#but he’d probably know a little more about it than the rest of those dummies | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

etherrreal · 1 year

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“when they’re feeling insecure”

Pairing: atsumu x reader; kita x reader; suna x reader Genre: reverse comfort-fluff; drabbles & headcanons WC: 5.169 Warnings: N/A A/N: thanks for the request! this is actually the first piece we’ve worked on together so we’re excited for you all to see it! enjoy :) -Dawn & Luna

since you and Atsumu tended to be strapped on time to spend with each other—with you working full-time and him being a national volleyball player—you liked to meet up with him after practice sometimes so you can pick up some food and get some quality time together

he was always taking his sweet time to get showered and ready to go, so you got to bond with some of his teammates, his captain Meian especially

when you found out you both loved the same show, every week, the day after the show aired, you got to practice a bit earlier so you and him had time to talk about the newest episode

Atsumu watched every week as you barely gave him a wave when you entered the gym those days, bee-lining straight to Meian and launching into animated conversation about your show

he had tried many times to sit down to watch it with you, but each time, about 15 minutes into the show, he found himself disinterested and distracted by his phone

he knew that never bothered you—”we don’t have to have the same interests,” you would tell him—but, week by week, as he observed you light up those days you walked into the gym to talk with Meian, he began to feel like maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough to get into your interests like you do for him

and he’d be damned if big bicep Meian would make you laugh more than he did

It’s Friday, you’re absolutely exhausted from work, and you’re ready to wash the grime of the day away in the hottest shower imaginable. You’re a little thrown off when you walk in the house and hear the T.V. playing in the living room, familiar voices from your favorite show coming from the room. You don’t remember leaving it on before you left, so you creep into the room slowly, peering around the corner to see a mop of blond hair leaning against the back of the couch.

“What are you doing?”

Atsumu snorts himself awake at the sound of your voice, eyes bleary as he tries to gather himself, gaze darting between you and the screen.

“Oh, me? Just catching up on your show.” He’s back to lounging against the arm of the couch, remote in hand gesturing to the screen. “It’s the part where that one girl, uh, Ashley is talkin’ to her boyfriend right now about how they’re going to move in together soon.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not her name.” You set your bag down next to the couch, throwing yourself down onto the cushion next to him. “Second, that’s her mortal enemy, and I’m pretty sure they’re talking about how she hopes he bites the dust on their next mission.”

Atsumu stares at the screen, paying attention to the dialogue for probably the first time since turning it on. “Oh.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his cluelessness. “I’ve already told you, ‘Tsumu, you don’t have to like the same things that I do just because we’re dating. Just like I don’t like volleyball that much, you don’t have to like my show as much as I do.”

He gasps, scandalized. “You don’t like volleyball?!”

“Not as much as you do, dummy. That’s my point! We’re two separate people with separate interests, and that’s okay.”

“Yeah, but…” You don’t hear the rest of his statement as he mumbles it, shrinking into himself with arms crossed and chin buried into his chest.

“You gotta speak up, babe. I couldn’t catch that.”

He sighs heavily, arms still crossed, now with a comically deep frown on his face. “But you and Meian are always talkin’ and laughin’ together at practice when you should be doing that with me, your boyfriend!”

“Oooh, come here, my dear sweet Atsumu.” He doesn’t hesitate to accept your invitation, nearly knocking the wind out of you as he wraps his arms around your torso, smushing his cheek against your chest. “You know I love you dearly. But trying to talk to you about my show is like talking to a brick wall, and I say that with all the love in the world. Now I finally have someone that I can talk to about my show, so you don’t have to hear me drone on.”

He grumbles. “I guess. But can’t you find someone else less… beefy to talk to about it with?”

You pause, trying to sift through his lot of friends for someone who doesn’t fit that bill. “Babe. All of your friends are beefy, so it wouldn’t even matter if there was someone else there that I can talk to about it. Besides, his appearance doesn’t even matter. It’s nothing more than some friendly chatter, alright?”

“Alright.” You press a kiss to the top of his head before he whines, tilting his head all the way up to offer his lips to you so you can give him a proper kiss. “...Just wish you’d be less happy about it.”

you were invited to a night out at a bar with some old friends from high school, and decided to drag Kita along for the ride to introduce him to the ol’ gang

drinks were being served, shots were being had, and everyone was getting along swimmingly

Kita, who’d been nursing a bottle of water in preparation for work the next day, stayed by your side the whole night, smiling as you and your friends swapped stories and dutifully holding your things when they dragged you off to the dancefloor

he was at the bar getting you another drink when your friend Aina approached, leaning against the bar

“I like you for them,” she announced, words slurring. “They need someone plain like you to balance them out.”

he knew she didn’t mean it as an insult, but the word “plain” punched him right in the gut, insecurity washing over him as he realized it was absolutely true

you were the daring, adventurous type, always ready to jump right into things headfirst, while Kita preferred a steadier approach

normally this wasn’t a problem for the two of you, but suddenly Kita couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were getting bored with him

it didn’t help that you had to cut your night short because of Kita’s early job, which consumed him with guilt as he watched you hug everyone goodbye, telling them you’d meet again at some point

the ride home was quiet as Kita thought about the ways he could be the fun, spontaneous man you deserved

the next day, he showed up at your door and invited you on an impromptu picnic date in the park, which you were more than happy to agree to

he was so ready to give you an amazing date and prove to you that he was more than just your plain boyfriend, but it seemed that the universe had other plans, as what was supposed to be your perfect and fun day quickly transformed into a disaster

at first, everything started off pretty smoothly, until Kita realized he forgot to bring a blanket, and the two of you were forced to sit on the wet, muddy grass

then when he opened the basket, he realized all the drinks had spilled on the drive over, effectively ruining all of the food he packed

you took it all in stride, reassuring him it could’ve happened to anyone, and ended up grabbing some takoyaki from a nearby food stand

for a moment Kita thought things were finally looking up, until an unleashed dog bounded towards you and knocked the takoyaki straight out of your hand and onto the ground, leaving the two of you to share whatever was left of his

he was so sure that it couldn’t get any worse, and then it started to rain– and not just a little drizzle, either, but a huge downpour that sent the two of you and the rest of your fellow park-goers scrambling for cover

and just to add insult to injury, his car ended up getting a flat only five minutes into the drive home, leaving him with no choice but to pull over and call for help, a shitty ending to an even shittier day

Kita’s not usually the type to believe that the universe is working against him –he prefers leaving those kinds of dramatics to the likes of Atsumu– but after the day he’s had, he’s starting to wonder.

His plan to prove to both you and himself that he could be an exciting, spontaneous, and definitely not plain boyfriend had started off decently enough. He showed up at your place with a nervous heart and a picnic basket in hand, announcing only somewhat shakily that he’d be stealing you for the day, whisking you off on an impromptu picnic date.

You’d had no prior warning, hence the whole spontaneous thing, but you went along with it easily enough, more than willing to spend a little extra time with your boyfriend. You threw on the quickest presentable outfit you could find and then you were off, eager to see where the day –and Kita– would take you. You ended up driving out to a flower field in the park, and it was absolutely wonderful.

For the first five minutes, at least.

Then it all went to shit.

Now the two of you are sitting in his car, soaked to the bone as you wait for a tow truck, and Kita is trying his very best not to let on how utterly defeated and pathetic he feels. He thinks the only thing keeping him from sulking outright is the fact that you’re still holding his hand, and even then, he can’t stop the frown that forms on his face.

“I’m so sorry about today,” he starts lamely, breaking the silence, voice shakier than he’s used to. He knows it’s not nearly enough to make up for the complete and utter catastrophe that your date turned into, but he supposes it’s a good enough place to start. “I know it wasn’t what you were expectin’ when I told you I’d be takin’ you out for a romantic picnic in the park. Hell, it wasn’t what I was expectin’, either.”

“Well, it was definitely an adventure, that’s for sure,” you say, in that carefree and teasing way of yours. Then you bring his hand closer to you and press your lips to the back of his palm, a playful but genuine smile tugging at your lips. “Still, I’m glad I came. I had a really good time today, Shin.”

Kita blinks, eyes wide as he stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “You did?”

“Of course I did. I was with you. I always have a good time when I’m with you.” You say it casually, easily, like it’s just that simple, and when he continues to gape at you, you raise an eyebrow. “What? Why do you look so surprised?”

“That’s because I am surprised. Today was a disaster, darlin’. It was the opposite of everythin’ that I wanted it to be.”

“Well, what did you want it to be?”

“Somethin’ good and excitin’ that you could enjoy the way you deserve.” He looks away, unable to meet your eyes as his gaze drifts to your intertwined hands, voice soft and quiet, defeated. “Somethin’ to show you that I could be fun and spontaneous, and not just the borin’ and plain boyfriend you’ve been stuck with.”

“Woah, wait, boring and plain? Stuck with?” you repeat, incredulous, brows furrowing as your lips curve into a frown of their own. “What are you talking about, Shin? You’re sure as hell not just someone I’m stuck with– where’s all of this even coming from?”

Despite himself, he hesitates. The last thing he wants to do is weigh you down with his insecurities, but Kita has never lied to you before, and he certainly doesn’t plan on starting now.

That’s when he tells about everything that happened last night, about Aina’s off-handed comment and about all the doubts and insecurities that’d been unearthed as a result. He tells you about the plan he made, the one he wanted so badly to be enough to prove to you that he could be the man you want, the man you deserve.

“I’m so sorry that happened, Shin,” is the first thing you say when he’s finished speaking, genuine and apologetic as you give his hand a comforting squeeze. “I know she was drunk, but Aina had no right to say that to you, and I’ll be telling her as much first thing tomorrow.”

“S’alright. I know she didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” Kita says, squeezing your hand back. “Still, it got me thinkin’, y’know? About you and me, and the fact that we’re so different. I mean, you– you’re so bright and darin’ and fearless and I’m just– I’m not.”

“So? I like you for you, Shin. I always have. And I especially like how different we both are.”

“I know. I do, too, I just– sometimes I just can’t help but feel like I’m borin’ you. Like you’re settlin’ for me. And I’m not sayin’ that I think you don’t love me, ‘cuz I know you do, I just–” He gives a shaky exhale and runs his free hand through his hair, faltering a little, before forcing himself to continue, though he still can’t quite meet your eyes. “I guess it’s just hard for me to make sense of the thought of someone as amazin’ and full of life as you wantin’ to be with someone as simple as me.”

The confession is raw and vulnerable, the way Kita’s only ever allowed himself to be around you. It softens you, makes you release his hand in favor of cupping his face, a silent plea to get him to look at you. And though he still feels pretty pathetic about everything, he doesn’t deny you, lifting his gaze to meet yours and finding himself stunned by the open affection in your eyes, the undeniable love he’s not sure he’ll ever get enough of.

“Oh, Shinsuke, baby, you’re not simple.” Your words, like your hands on his face, are gentle but firm, and when he shoots you a doubtful look, you lean closer and insist, “You’re not. You’re hardworking and dedicated, not to mention generous and so, so kind. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you’re always there to listen to me and support me, no matter how stubborn I am or how crazy my ideas get. You’re everything I want, not to mention everything I need. You make me better, and I love you, just the way you are.”

It’s strange, Kita thinks, how quickly your words ease the uncertainty and doubt that’d been weighing on his chest, how effortlessly your touch soothes him. There’s so much he wants to say to you. He wants to tell you how grateful he is for you, how much your words mean to him. Mostly, he wants to tell you that he loves you.

But then you tug his face towards you, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips firmly against his, and he realizes he doesn’t have to, because you already know. You feel it in the way he wraps his arms around you to pull you closer, in the way one of his hands tangles in your hair. Still, he does his best to prove it to you, anyway, deepening the kiss with a drag of his tongue across your lips and a muffled groan that has you scraping your nails against his scalp.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, just enough so that you can lean your forehead against his, all gentle comfort and soft affection.

“So get the thought of you being the person I settled for out of your pretty little head,” you say firmly, lightly tugging on his hair for good measure, “because you’re not. You’re the person I chose, the one I plan to continue choosing for a long, long time. Have I made myself clear?”

And Kita can only smile at you, turning his face to place a gentle kiss to the inside of your palm, all of his previous anxieties and insecurities forgotten.

“Crystal, darlin’.”

you and Suna were at your cousin’s wedding, and you set off to grab some more drinks at the bar

Suna watched as you left—definitely checking out your ass—when he saw you get stopped by a guy, who put his hand hand on your arm and said something to you, and then suddenly, you were hugging

you were both so animated, so effortless, in your interactions, and Suna even saw you bust out laughing in a way you usually only do when he tells you the most god awful joke

Suna nudges your friend Aina who’s standing next to him, gesturing over to you both as he asks about who the guy is, thinking maybe he’s another cousin or something

“Oh, that’s her ex, Haru,” she explains, “They were friends all throughout childhood and even dated for a while in high school.”

this, of course, isn’t Suna’s first time hearing about your ex, seeing as the two of you have been dating long enough to have already swapped stories about previous breakups, but it is his first time seeing you and Haru interact in person

and while Suna already knows that the breakup was mutual and that you and Haru ended things pretty amicably, he’d be lying if he said seeing Haru act so familiar with you doesn’t bother him

still, Suna trusts you, and the last thing he’s going to do is make a scene at your cousin’s wedding, which is why he opts to ignore the interaction entirely, until one of the women standing nearby makes it impossible for him

the woman—maybe an aunt of yours—jumps in to add, “they were so cute, weren’t they? We were all so sure they were going to end up together. After all, they only broke up because they were heading off to different colleges.”

and if that doesn’t make him feel shitty enough, another woman, whom he quickly realizes is Haru’s mother, chimes in, “they would’ve been high school sweathearts, what’s more perfect than that! It’s too bad they had to break up.”

Aina freezes, panicked, as her gaze darts between him and the women nearby, like she’s debating whether or not she should say something, but Suna stops her with a shake of his head, brushing the whole thing off like it doesn’t bother him, even though it really does

Suna isn’t friends with any of his exes, so he doesn’t understand how two people who decided they couldn’t be together could act so natural and cheerful—and not deathly awkward—with one another years after the split

as much as he hates admitting it, you and Haru do look really good together, even if your interaction only ended up lasting a few minutes, and your family clearly still adores him, so much so that they invited him to your cousin’s wedding

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they prefer him over Suna, and while normally Suna wouldn’t give a damn about any of that, he can’t help but wonder if you feel the same way, if seeing Haru tonight made you regret breaking up with him in the first place

the two of you were high school sweethearts, after all; how can Suna hope to compare to that?

it puts him in a sour mood for the rest of the night, one that lasts throughout the rest of the reception and continues on your drive home

“Are you okay, Rin?”

Suna barely spares you a glance when you speak, keeping his eyes planted firmly on the road in front of him. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been acting weird since the reception.”

“It’s nothing.” That’s a lie, of course, and you both know it. He’s been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got in the car, the silence that’s settled between you nothing like the easy banter and teasing jokes you normally exchange on the way home. “I’m just tired.”

The rational part of him, the one he doesn’t always listen to, knows it isn’t fair for him to act this way. He’s being petty and immature, neither of which are reactions you deserve right now, but he can’t help it.

Being vulnerable has never been easy for Suna. It still isn’t, if he’s being honest, which is why, instead of talking to you about his feelings, he chooses to ignore them completely, burying them somewhere deep inside himself that even he can’t reach, despite the way his heart sinks and his hands tighten on the steering wheel the more he thinks about what your family said.

He doesn’t have to look at you to know that you’re frowning. You’ve always been able to see right through him, so of course you know that something’s bothering him, no matter how hard he tries to convince you otherwise.

He still hasn’t looked at you, but he imagines you sitting in the passenger seat with your arms crossed over your chest, furrowing your brows the way you always do when you can’t figure something out. “Did my family say something to you?”

He lets himself glance at you long enough to flash you a tight smile, a forced curving of his lips that doesn’t meet his eyes. “Nothing worth repeating.”

Your eyes narrow at his words, lips parting like you want to say something else, but then he’s pulling up in front of your apartment building and parking the car, and the moment is gone. The silence follows you into the lobby, up the elevator and all the way inside your shared apartment.

Suna quickly decides that he hates this kind of silence. He hates how bothered he still is about you and your stupid ex even more. Mostly, he hates the distance he feels between you now, even though he knows it’s one of his own creation.

He wants nothing more than to get rid of it, to lay his head in your lap and tell you exactly why he’s so upset while you stroke his hair and comfort him, but doing so would require him to be honest about his feelings, and you both already know how shitty he is at that. And the last thing Suna wants to do right now is start a fight, especially when he already feels like he’s not good enough for you.

You must sense his hesitance, because in the end, you’re the one that comes to him. You corner him while he’s sitting at the edge of your shared bed, approaching him with the same amount of care and delicateness you’d use with a stray cat.

You’re both still wearing your wedding clothes, but neither of you seems to care much about that right now. You push his jacket off his shoulders and he lets you, watching as you fold it with careful hands and set it neatly down on the bed next to him.

You move to stand in front of him, resting your hands on his shoulders. Suna finds himself shifting almost automatically to accommodate you, spreading his thighs so you can stand comfortably between his legs.

Then you’re running your fingers through his hair, nails scraping gently against his scalp in just the way he likes, and whatever ideas he had before about keeping his feelings to himself and suffering in silence immediately vanish from his brain. He’s nothing but putty in your hands right now, and all it took was one measly touch from you.

You’re good at that, Suna thinks. You’re good at softening him, at making him feel safe and loved, like he can tell you anything without being judged. It’s one of the things he loves the most about you.

It’s also why, despite his earlier hesitance, he allows himself to melt into your touch. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face against your stomach while you continue to run your fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head every now and then.

The two of you stay like that for a while, just holding each other and breathing in sync. Then you’re tugging gently at his scalp, coaxing him into looking up at you with your fingers in his hair. He goes willingly, always, for you.

“Are you ready to talk about it now?” you ask, soft and seeking, free of any judgment.

“You’re gonna think it’s stupid,” Suna mumbles, chin tucked securely against your body.

You press a soothing kiss to his forehead for good measure. “Try me.”

And though the thought of baring his feelings so openly still makes him kind of queasy, he does it anyway, relenting. “I didn’t know your ex was gonna be at the wedding.”

“Who, Haru? That’s who this is about?” You blink as genuine surprise laces your features, as if you’ve actually forgotten about your ex entirely, which pleases Suna more than he cares to admit. “He’s friends with my cousin. We all grew up together. I thought I told you that.”

“You did.” The smile he gives you is curt and tight-lipped. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “You just didn’t tell me how devastated your family was when the two of you broke up.”

“So they did say something to you, didn’t they?” You shake your head, understanding flashing in your eyes as your lips curve into a frown. “Who was it? Wait, don’t tell me– Aunt Eri?”

“The one and only,” Suna confirms, much to your chagrin. “She and Haru’s mom were convinced the two of you were meant to be, and that you were –get this– absolutely perfect for each other.”

The words taste sour in his mouth, a bitterness filling his voice that he only hopes you know isn’t directed towards you. Thankfully, you don’t seem to take any offense to it. If anything, you look upset for him, your jaw dropping and eyes widening in disbelief which quickly turns to anger at your own aunt’s audacity.

“Oh, no. Rin, baby, I’m so sorry,” you say, and he can tell from the look in your eyes how much you mean it. “They had no right to say any of that, least of all in front of you.” You lift a hand to cup his cheek and shake your head, eyes soft and apologetic. “I can only imagine how shitty it was to hear.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, frowning at the memory, “no kidding.” But he leans into your touch anyway, brushing his lips against your palm so you know he doesn’t blame you. “That’s not really the part that bothered me, anyway.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head curiously. “Then what did?”

Suna already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it from you, which is why he takes a deep breath and asks, “Why did you and Haru break up?”

“We were going to different colleges,” you reply, confirming what your aunt told him. “We agreed it was the best thing for the both of us.”

And though it’s exactly the answer he was expecting, that still doesn’t make hearing it hurt any less. He swallows the lump in his throat and looks away, voice quieting. “So if you never broke up with him back then, you’d probably still be with him right now.”

“And if I won the lottery when I was eighteen the way I hoped I would, then I’d probably be single and in Madrid right now,” you shoot back easily, without missing a beat. “What’s your point?”

Suna frowns, fixing you with a pointed look. “Your family likes him. I mean, they really, really like him. Way more than they like me.”

“Well, then,” you lean forward, lips curving up into a smile, “I guess it’s a good thing you’re dating me and not any of them, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, the frown on his face deepening even further. “You don’t get it. The only reason the two of you didn’t work out is because of bad timing, not because you didn’t love him anymore.”

“But that’s the thing. I don’t love him anymore, Rin. I love you and only you,” you insist. “I’m not the person I was when Haru and I were together. I grew up. I went to college, I moved out on my own, and then we met, and I fell in love with you.”

“That’s exactly my point,” he argues. “None of that would’ve ever happened if you hadn’t broken up with him. If he’d reached out to you while you were still in college, then you and I wouldn’t even be together right now.”

“But he didn’t, and he won’t. And even if he did now, it wouldn’t matter, because the only person I’m in love with is you.”

Your voice is steady, firm, leaving little room for argument. He tries anyway, opening his mouth to speak again, but you silence him with a finger pressed to his lips. And though Suna still isn’t completely convinced you’re what he deserves, he listens, quieting down long enough to hear you out properly.

“Rin, baby, if we sit here and argue about all the what if’s, we’ll always find some kind of excuse for why we couldn’t have been together,” you reason. “But we are, so why does it matter? We’re here together now, and I chose you– because I wanted you. I still want you.”

He watches, heart full and racing, as you settle yourself into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, knees on either side of his thighs. He doesn’t hesitate to welcome you, hands resting on your hips, the weight of you warm and familiar in his arms.

“Do you still want me?” you ask, as if you don’t already know, as if there was ever any doubt.

And that, he quickly realizes, is exactly the point you’re trying to make, because no matter what happened in the past, no matter who the two of you have been with before this, he’s the one you’re choosing now, just like you are for him.

“More than I know what to do with,” he answers, reaching a hand up to your face to brush his thumb across your cheek.

“Then it’s settled. Everything else is just background noise.” You kiss him, then, deep and wanting, and it’s all he can do to kiss you back, longing and eager. You smile when you pull away, a sweet, loving thing he feels like an idiot for ever even doubting in the first place. “Okay?”

And Suna smiles, relieved, resting his forehead against yours.

“Okay.”

Written by: Dawn & Luna

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meles-merrivale · 1 year

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April 5: Hate

Got a bit long, but there's always tomorrow!

written for @hinnymicrofic

It’s in the fucking walls. Not all the time. Well, not anymore, at least. But it’s still there, that fucking hissing. In the dim haze of empty hallways as she makes her way down to the pitch for early morning practice, slithering under the laughter in the great hall, stopping her dead when she takes a wrong turn on the second floor.

It’s in her head. He’s still in her head.

She wants to be someone who laughs with Katie on the walk to the Room of Requirement because she's funny and not to drown out the memory in the walls. A girl whose hexes are powered by skill and talent instead of rage. But she's not. She's inkstained and angry. She flings herself into hexes and curses, gives a flourishing bow when the others cheer as she blasts the room apart, and when they start to trickle out for the night she keeps going. When she leaves she'll have to stop fighting. When she leaves she’s the same small girl in the same hallways, and he’s still out there.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says, and a hand closes around her wrist. It’s warm, and familiar enough not to startle her. She’s not sure when Harry’s touch became familiar. “Might be time to give it a rest, no?”

No, the twisting thing inside her snarls. The thing that shares classes with friends she almost killed, that never wants to sleep or eat or rest until Tom Riddle is burning in hell.

She takes a deep breath. Waits for the dust to settle from her last curse.

“Probably,” she says, dropping her head back to grin up at Harry. He’d gotten a good bit taller than her over the summer. She’s decided it’s annoying and not a bit handsome.

“Good, cause it’s almost curfew,” he says, dropping her hand and heading towards the singed dummy she’d been mauling. It’s only now that she realizes the rest of the room’s already cleaned up. Maybe she had been going a little overboard.

“What’s this? The legendary Harry Potter, afraid of a little rule breaking?”

“Absolutely terrified.”

That gets a laugh out of her and a bit more gentle banter before they subside into companionable silence, packing away the last of the D.A. supplies. Quiet isn’t Ginny’s natural state, but she’s been surprised to find with Harry it’s rather nice. Safe harbor is the term that comes to mind, but that seems a bit melodramatic to think about a boy who, at the end of the day, is just her brother’s best friend.

They’re set to start the long slog back up to Gryffindor Tower when Harry pauses, one hand on the Room door. “Listen, Ginny…”

“Hm?” she prompts when nothing follows.

“Look, you don’t need to say anything. But, um, are you okay? Cause you’ve seemed…tense. Tonight, and in general.”

She opens her mouth to say I’m fine on reflex, then bites her tongue to give herself a second. When was the last time someone really asked if she was okay? Not this year. Probably not last, either.

Looking into those bright green eyes, his brow furrowed slightly like she’s a particularly difficult star chart he’s trying to uncode, she’s pretty sure Harry is really asking.

“Not really,” she says.

She’s not expecting it, the way it feels like exhaling. Like a rubber band she didn’t know she’d been stretching all year has finally eased.

Harry doesn’t ask any follow up, just lets the air resettle around them. When it does, she finds it’s left space for more words to fill it.

“I just…You-Know-Who’s back. And I’m so fucking angry. I hate him. I hate him, and he deserves it, but…” she takes a deep breath. “But I don’t think I like who hating makes me.” Harry's been a bit of a prat too, lately. She wonders if he'll get what she means.

He blinks once, and there’s a flicker of what might be surprise in his eyes. But no confusion, or disappointment, or disgust. So that’s fine. She doesn’t mind surprising him.

Harry sags slightly against the door, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Fucking sucks, right?”

Ginny snorts. It might be a bit on the wet, gross side of acceptable, but this doesn’t seem like the time or place to care. “That’s all you’ve got to offer?”

“That’s all I’ve got.” he says with a rueful smile. Which, she’s not sure what she really should’ve expected from a fifteen year old boy. But it is kind of nice, actually. Knowing this is all hard for someone else, too.

Harry leans closer, sliding sideways across the polished wood of the door until his shoulder presses against hers. “Listen, Gin. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, or what it’s like living with, you know, everything. But, from where I’m standing, you’ve turned out pretty great.”

That’s not quite right. Because he’s probably the one person who does get, you know, everything. Of course, that’s why she doesn’t have to say it.

“You’re pretty alright, too.”

#hinny #fifth year #my fic

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

closer | gojo satoru x reader

a/n: aaah my first ask and it’s a request! thanks so much this is so kind and sweet of you 🥺 and here it is! I’m not sure if it’s exactly what you wanted but I hope you like it anyway!

summary: in which Gojo has the need to be closer to you after a long day of hard work

pairings: jealous! Gojo x reader

warnings: none, other than this isn’t proofread! (This is just a fluffy domestic short fic!)

masterlist !

The best part about being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer isn’t the power (although Gojo basks in that too) but rather the fact that he allows himself to completely tear his walls down and be putty in your hands once he comes home from work.

Gojo would never say it out loud that the best part of his days is waking up next to you, pressing kisses in your still sleepy face and you whining for five more minutes, then watching as you wobble like a penguin to the shower so you can start your day. Although he doesn’t really ask much from you, his heart still swells every time you make him a sandwich, kiss it and claim that it’s “made with love” before he proudly shows off his ‘breakfast’ of the day to his students.

Even in work, he still thinks of you. It’s quite impossible for this man to stop thinking of you; you and him never left that honeymoon phase even after two years of marriage and a much longer time of dating.

He could be exorcising a curse then get distracted afterwards after seeing an Italian restaurant that he just knows you’ll love. Next thing you know, Gojo flicks his wrist and exorcises the curse in a flash before hopping into that restaurant to look at the menu. Loving is knowing; Gojo takes the time to see if the restaurant would be respectful of your allergies every time before booking reservations.

It’s no secret that this man is completely enamoured with you, if his sappy good morning kisses accompanied with light, teasing touches down your legs is not an indication already. Gojo is confident and feels safe in your relationship and he’s never the type to get jealous because Gojo is Gojo – who else would be better than him for you?

Or at least that’s what he used to believe, until he comes home with a bag of pumpkin spice bread for you, arms wide open and a “Darling~” about to leave his lips when he sees your current predicament.

Nanami is leaning against one of the chairs in your cafe downstairs from your home, the usual stoic man’s lips and cheekbones slightly raised in laughter as you tell him something about your day. Gojo can’t exactly understand the worse falling from your lips because he’s too focused on the way you’re leaning forward, eyes absolutely crinkled into half-moons while you share a strawberry tart with him. Gojo sees the cups of tea have already been emptied, meaning Nanami has been here for a much longer time than he is welcomed.

Gojo clenches his jaw. He’s told you many times you should get a bell so you’d know when a customer comes in, but now he’s thankful you’re stubborn and refused to have one because he can hide in one of the propped up tables and chairs hidden in the darkness.

He can’t help the sigh he releases. He’s late – like he always is.

You’re a regular human who isn’t able to see curses. You’ve only ever known about their existence ever since you started dating Gojo, but other than that, you’re completely unaware of how these things work. It doesn’t bother Gojo. In fact, he quite likes that he can be just a regular man around you, and he basks in the comfort of not having to worry about your safety if ever you were also like him.

He met you when you were just still a barista who helped your boss bake from time to time. Gojo was only a student then who hopped from one cafe to another in search of the best delicacy, but he got more than what he bargained from when he met the fresh-faced and bubbly young woman standing behind the counter whose smile was sweeter than the most sugary dessert you’ve ever made.

As the two of you grew older, Gojo supported you in building your own cafe since you’re so passionate about it and it’s been your dream since childhood.

He still remembers how you’d spend hours in the kitchen trying out new ingredients, so much so that you forget to eat on most days. Gojo is left with the task of literally hauling your ass up upstairs and force you to shower with him. You lie that you’re not really tired, but the moment his skilled hands roll the tension out of your shoulders, a contented and grateful sigh paints those lips he loves to kiss.

One of the things Gojo loves doing with you is taste-testing. He’s not around the house most of the time when you work since he’s a busy man himself, but on the days he actively chooses to annoy Principal Yaga and go AWOL, he’d sit obediently on the counter and let you use him as your own taste experimenting dummy.

When night falls and you’re just about ready to head to bed; satisfied and proud of another day of hard work, Gojo comes home early to help you clean up the cafe and prop the furniture so you don’t overstrain your muscles.

Or at least, he wants to come home early to help you. It’s just that he often gets carried away on his missions and stays behind a lot longer than he’d like because the world of curses is extremely demanding. After seeing that you probably already lifted all these heavy chairs and cleaned up everything by yourself even when you’re tired, and you still have the ability to smile and laugh like that in Nanami’s presence when he should be the one on the receiving end, Gojo is unable to fight back the twisting feeling that pools in his stomach.

Forcing a huge grin on his face, Gojo loudly smacks the paper bag in the table between you and Nanami, his hands resting on the blond’s shoulder who only groans at his presence. “Yo!” He greets, winking when your eyes gleam brighter now that your husband is home.

There’s no trace or hint of anything that could indicate you’re upset with him because he didn’t come home early. Instead, you bow and excuse yourself while picking up your cups and the small plate where remnants of your signature tart had been, and Gojo watches with longing eyes as you disappear in the back room.

Now that you’re gone, Gojo drops in your seat, takes off his blindfold, and glares at Nanami. “Nanamin,” he drawls out. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here – getting chummy with my wife, no less.”

Gojo knows he’s being petty and childish. Of course he is. This is Nanamin we’re talking about; the man is as frigid and stone and he’s as interested in romantic relationships as much as he respects Gojo Satoru. Plus, it’s you, and you have eyes for Gojo and Gojo only, but it’s also Gojo Satoru who’s mixed in the formula, and he’s not the least bit ashamed that he’s being immature right now.

Of course he’s jealous. Of course he’s possessive.

You’re his sweet, little wife – of course he doesn’t like it.

As if reading his mind but couldn’t be bothered to deal with him, Nanami slides an envelope across the table. “Ijichi took a sick leave so he couldn’t give this to you. I was tasked to hand it over to you instead so I came around. It’s not my fault you come home late and your wife insisted I have a short meal before I came home,” Gojo opens his to retort something stupid when you emerge from the back, pretty face tired yet still patient as ever.

“Leaving already, Nanami?” You smile up at him, hand slipping through Gojo’s bigger and rough ones. He doesn’t know why the gesture leaves him stunned, especially when you step close enough that he feels your heat on this sudden cold night. He’s so entranced by everything about you he doesn’t even notice the blond bidding his farewell.

Gojo watches as you turn to face him, smaller hands reaching up to caress his face. Now that his blindfold is gone, his hair falls down to forehead, your dainty fingers brushing them away from his eyes so you could marvel in its beauty.

Like a little kid, he melts into a puddle when you do that exact eye-smile he’s seen you do with Nanami, only this time, it’s reserved, private, and intimate.

Gojo shuts his eyes in the process, nearly stumbling forward, which he doesn’t really let happen with anyone because he’s the Gojo Satoru; strongest jujutsu sorcerer. But you don’t mind, you never do, and if anything it only makes you laugh when he pretends to be deadweight by collapsing into the crook of your neck.

“What a big baby,” you tease with your hand rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion, all the tiredness and exhaustion from his day disappearing into thin air.

“Yes,” he concedes as he follows you up the stairs where you both change into your pyjamas and settle in for the night. “But I’m your big baby.”

The nickname makes you laugh, head thrown back as giggles erupted in your chest. You’ve already removed your makeup, hair down from your work hairnet and flowing in loose waves. Gojo stifles a gasp then, because you’re in his arms, in his bed, smelling like him, and you’re so soft, so free, so vulnerable and the way you lean into his shoulders while he rubs his cheek on the crown of your head makes him feel like he’s falling in love all over again.

He’ll never get tired of this – of you.

The mere thought of seeing you with someone else that isn’t him doesn’t sit well with Gojo. Now he understands why he’s so jealous and immature – it’s because he hasn’t wanted anyone or anything as much as he loves you.

He can’t imagine a life where he’ll wake up to his mornings without your limbs sprawled across his longer ones, or how he may never hear your sleep talks about birds and butterflies; which is utterly ridiculous, but because it’s you, he finds it adorable. Sometimes Gojo wonders how he ever even lived before meeting, but of course, those were days filled with nothing but him doing weird stupid shit.

Not that he’s stopped doing that, but now at least he’s doing those weird stupid with you.

And he only ever wants to share those with you, so he doesn’t and will never allow anyone else to take what’s rightfully his. You’re his wife, the love of his life, the sunshine in his mornings and the sunset of his beautiful dusk.

He doesn’t care if he’s petty – he’s got every right to be jealous because Gojo Satoru never shares what’s his.

When his mind races back to the way you smile for Nanami again, his hold on you grows tighter. You don’t complain when Gojo suddenly presses his lips into yours, a breathy moan blessing his ears once he finally moves on top of you. Gojo runs his hand under your – his – shirt, letting those talented hands of his roam upon the expanse of his skin like an artwork he’ll never get tired of looking at.

“Missed you,” he mumbles in between the lip-locking, leaning closer when your nails start to scratch his scalp as a way to soothe him from the night. Nothing about the kiss is hurried or fervent; rather, it’s calm and steady, slow and passionate, much like how everything he feels for you is similar to a calm, rainy day where he’ll stay in with a hot cup of chocolate.

You’re home – warmth and comfort – and you know you’re his just as he knows he’s yours, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing you like he wants you to never forget that.

You shiver when Gojo’s fingers tickle your ribcage, that spot always having been sensitive. Your husband swipes his tongue over your lips that still tastes like strawberries from your lipbalm, and he groans, falling forward when you allow him access into your sweet, sweet mouth. Meanwhile, you travel down from his hair into those broad, strong shoulders that always seemed like a fortress to you.

Gojo was so big and strong compared to you. There’s no denying he could easily break you if he wanted to, but he’s nothing but gentle – perhaps a little eager – when he holds you like this.

There’s no memory of how you end up on top of his lap that night with the covers barely strewn across your bodies, Gojo’s back pressing into the bed frame that’s witnessed endless nights of passion. His hands then run over your hips, squeezing it a little too hard until you rut against his hips.

“Hmm,” you moan into his mouth at the friction, while Gojo only smirks at your reaction. Even after years, you’re still so sweet, sensitive, and responsive – he just can’t get enough of it. “Satoru,” the way you say his name is so breathy, almost as if it’s a secret only the two of you should know, so he listens intently at your next words. “You’re a little needy tonight. Did something happen?”

“No,” he lies, smiling to himself once he sees your lips are red and bruised. He’s sure he looks the same, but your eyes are glossed over with love that he can’t resist you pulling you to him as if the space offends him. He trails his lips down to your neck to leave red patches of marks that claims you as his – not that the gold wedding band on your fingers wasn’t doing the job already.

Like the good girl you are, you tilt your head and allow him to do as he pleases. He sucks, licks, kisses and nips at the skin, all the while careful to not hurt you or push you over to the edge since both of you are too tired for the day to ever do anything.

Your head drops to the crook of his neck then, arms wrapped around his shoulders loosely as if you trusted him to catch you whenever you fall – and you know he will. He always will.

Later on, you grow sleepy at the way he starts to pepper kisses into your skin that addictingly smells like cinnamon and vanilla all at the same time. Gojo chuckles to himself at how peaceful you look in that moment, draped over him like a tiny puppy who lives in a world too big for themselves, but that’s not true.

You’re bigger than the universe itself, larger than the vast galaxies he held beneath those eyes, and Gojo finally stops being jealous.

There’s no need to be, after all, not when he’s the one you trust wholeheartedly to tuck you in bed while your soft breathing lulls him into slumber as well. Gojo flicks the lamp off with his finger, not wasting another second before he scoots closer, closer, closer until there’s no more recollection of where you begin and where he ends.

He stands corrected in his statement.

He’ll never get tired of this, of you, for you’re bigger than the universe itself and there’s still a lot of space between the two of you that he can’t wait to cross until your worlds crash and burn.

“Next time,” he promises before kissing your eyelids, “I’ll come home earlier.”

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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years

Note

Idk if you already made this but Hanako, Kou and mitsuba jealous Hcs with their girlfriend that is quite popular among the students pls? thank u!!

hanako x f!reader, kou minamoto x f!reader, mitsuba sousuke x f!reader

a/n: sure thing!! No worries, I haven’t made it yet :D you’re so very welcome, and thank you so much for requesting!! I love jealousy headcanons tho I don’t think I’ve ever written them? I hope these turn out alright, and I’m so sorry for the time this took!

warnings: jealousy?

word count: 1,936

Hanako <3

Oh boy- can I do anything but wish you luck?

Hanako is already a fairly clingy and jealous guy, that’s practically canon. He’ll stand between you when you’re talking to anyone, and I mean aaaaanyone. He just can’t risk losing you!

(It’s got a whole lot to do with his insecurities, of course- while he wouldn’t admit it, not wanting to drop his “ah? I’m just an innocent little boy, free of issues and perverted thoughts <3” attitude, he does struggle a lot. He’s a ghost, a murderer, and imperfect in more ways than those. You’re popular for a reason. You’re so pretty, so kind, so lovable- you’re alive, and probably have morals. What are you doing with a dead murderer?)

Wow, ANYWAY- we’re here for jealousy, not Hanako’s issues, though they will probably resurface shortly.

Seeing everyone around you… always wanting your attention, always complimenting you…

You deserved it! He thought all of those positive things and more-! But… at this point, so many people admiring you, why were you still with him?

Even if you explain to him constantly that you love him dearly, and wouldn’t leave him for anyone else, he still gets somewhat possessive. Eventually putting the “but why does (Y/N) still love me,,” aside, he just wants others to keep their hands off you :((

It’s no fault of yours, and he acknowledges that! But it’s the fault of others getting so close to you >:((

Though they can’t see him, when people go up to you, talking joyfully- he’s standing there, arms wrapped around you, head on your shoulder as he glares daggers into their souls.

BRO IF SOMEONE FLIRTS WITH YOU OR TOUCHES YOU??

You’ve never seen him super angry, much less murderous. He doesn’t want you to see him that angry normally- but holy moley is he about ready to beat someone.

Yet, he’s still just a ghost- plus if he did something Teru would exorcise him, booooo. So, he settles for continuing to glare, standing between the two of you, hitting their arm if it’s resting on your shoulder. Once again, they’re completely unaware of it, but you aren’t!

“Hanako, you know I won’t leave you for them. They’re a classmate, I barely know them, really.”

“But they want to know you. And I don’t want them to know you… they’re gonna try and take you from me, (Y/N)!”

“I won’t let them take me, you big dummy. So, if you could please let go of me so I can get back to class?”

“No :((“

Not only does he cling to you, of course- though he hugs you bunches and squishes your face just because you’re cute- you can also expect a lot of kisses. Ranging from quick “hey, I’m here, and please don’t choose someone else over me”, “hey, my kisses are better than theirs!! Here’s proof!”, “you’re my girlfriend, not theirs, and if they keep treating you like you aren’t taking I’m going to stabby stabby (but I can’t stab cos Teru’s here, but I would if it wasn’t upsetting)”, etc, etc. It’s… almost strange how easy it is to understand what he means from the way he kisses you- but, I digress!

Overall, he gets jealous fairly easily, and gets very clingy when jealous. He’s not amazing with words, so he wants to show you that he loves you with actions!! However, those actions, more often than not, end up just being… clinging to you, and glaring at people who try to get too close to you.

(RIP Akane, Kou, and Nene for bearing witness to you walking around the school with a visibly angry Hanako. Though the worst the others get is the feeling that someone is staring at them, they get to witness his jealousy from off to the side.)

Kou Minamoto <3

He’s nearly completely opposite from Hanako, actually! He doesn’t get jealous very often, trusting you to actually tell him if something were wrong in the relationship. And, when he does get jealous, he does his best to not show it.

He’s not fond of being jealous. It makes him feel like he’s betraying you…? Like him being jealous is the same as him saying that he doesn’t trust you. But, similarly to Hanako, he trusts you. He just doesn’t trust others quite as much. Not with his very cute and very pretty and very sweet girlfriend :((

While it takes a lot to get him jealous, two things that really can make his temper cut short are (similarly to Hanako) when someone outright flirts or touches you. Especially if they touch you and the two of you aren’t at least friends-

If someone flirts, he’s going to casually slip into the conversation, if he wasn’t there already. A quick “hey, (Y/N)! Wait, sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking-“, then he’ll stand next to you, grabbing your hand lightly. One thing about Kou is, he does his best to be gentle all the time! Even when he’s jealous, he’d never ever hurt you intentionally-!!

If someone’s touching you, he’ll hop into the conversation as he does when someone flirts, adding a “I need your help with something, when you can.” This time, or any time really, if you’re uncomfortable you can use it as an excuse to get away!! Kou’s got your back!!!

If it’s been a day where people just constantly seem to be needing your attention, he’ll start to let his jealousy get to him a bit. It’s not even that some people like your attention- heck, he gets it! He likes having your attention as well. It’s more that… they constantly need your attention. Someone always needing something, even when he just wanted to have a conversation with you :((

In that case, he’ll be slightly clingy, and slightly pouty. Almost like a young child. His lips will be pouted slightly, eyes looking a bit lower to the ground than usual. His hand will be secured in yours, and your shoulder will be lightly pressed against his.

“Kouuu, tell me what’s wrong~,” You spoke, poking his cheek with your index finger. When he was like this, it was easy to tell he was embarrassed about whatever he was pouting over, and not upset over something too serious. It was the perfect time to mess with him.

His face would flush as it usually did- and he’d look away, pouting a bit harder as his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “It’s nothing, (Y/N), really.”

“You’re pouting. Come on, now, you really can tell me. I promise I won’t think of you any less!”

“…it’s just… well- well, seeing all those people around you all day, and I couldn’t really… even get to talk to you. You even had to leave early during lunch-! I’m not angry or anything- it’s dumb, it’s dumb, really-“

“Awwwwh, Kou! Don’t be jealous, sweetheart! It’s not dumb, I actually find it sweet. You know I’d choose you over any of those people. I’d much rather spend time with you than them, but it’s not exactly easy to say no… but, if it makes you feel bad, I’ll make sure they know that, at least, lunch is off-limits.”

“Y-you don’t have to, but… that’s up to you.” (AKA “I want you to, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to do something just for my sake.”)

Overall! Kou’s going to be a sweetheart, even when (not very often) jealous. He doesn’t want you to think he’s silly or not trusting of you when he does get jealous- so he does his best to hide it? Still, he fails, since he can’t help but want to be at least a little closer to you!! Plus the way he pouts- he’s easily read in most situations, and that type is no different.

Mitsuba Sousuke <3

Ahh, where to begin… I suppose the same way I’ve been beginning the other two-

Mitsuba is… a complicated jealous boy? He gets jealous rather easily- and… doesn’t admit it, but makes it painfully obvious. He thinks he isn’t being obvious, but it’s practically plain as daylight.

As he does all things, he masks his jealousy in insults at first! Making his way into whatever conversation or interaction your having, offering an ‘uninterested’ “what’re you doing?” After that, he criticizes every little thing the other person does- his levels of mercy depending on how much the person deserves it.

A quick question? Minimum amount of insults. Maybe one, two if they drag it out.

Just having a normal conversation? More than a short question, but not an excessive amount. If they drag it out too long, the insults go up.

Flirting? Lays the insults on THICK. Plus, after a moment, an annoyed and rather cocky sounding: “why haven’t you gotten lost already? Can’t you see I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend? You idiot. Moron. Pervert. Who talks to a taken girl like that??”

Touches you? Doesn’t even happen. They reach for you, and he’s smacking their hand away. “Idiot. What right do you have to touch my girlfriend?? That’s invasive. Gross. You’re so weird, trying to put your sticky little hands on her.”

But! If it’s a situation he can’t interfere with, be it because he’s dead and the other person’s alive, or in which the people needing your attention goes on for too long- he enters Sulky Mitsuba Mode.

Don’t get me wrong, Sulky Mitsuba is still full of insults, just… sad. In those times, as a ghost, he can’t help but wonder if you’re content in the relationship. Look at you… popular with other students- other students who could leave the school, buy you things, and such. He was a cute ghost, but he was a ghost. He wasn’t even really Mitsuba- he wasn’t the classmate you once knew. How hard was it for you? Yet, you gave it your best to get to know him again-

Luckily, Mitsuba has the ability to tell himself “if (Y/N) did that much for me, she must at least care.” However, it won’t get rid of all his doubts- and he’ll still sulk once you finally catch up with him.

“Hey, Mitsuba! Sorry, I’ve been busy!”

“Mh? Have you? I’ve barely even noticed you were gone.”

Terrible acting skills, Mitsuba. He looks annoyed, his voice sounds uninterested, but… it’s still somehow easy to see through his little act. He’s jealous, and you’re bound to be aware of it.

Take a seat next to him, and he’ll scoot away. Be patient- when he’s jealous, it’s like approaching a stray cat. No sudden movements or you’ll scare him away!

“I’m sorry, Mitsuba. I know I’ve been caught up today, and I’m really sad that I haven’t seen you much until now. Did you have anything you wanted to do? I’m all yours now!”

“Tch, whatever. I don’t have anything I want to do, so just leave it be.”

Ah… do I even have to mention that he’s stubborn. Apologize a bit, he’ll dismissively forgive you, and go from there. Lighthearted conversation, asking him about his day, talking about yours- slowly move closer to him, and! Next thing you know, his heads on your shoulder as he rants about something that happened.

Overall, Mitsuba does get jealous rather easily! He’s stubborn as always, partnered with his insults constantly ready to be fired- it’s interesting when he gets jealous. He never outright admits that he trusts you, and doesn’t consider much more than “I’m feeling a bit jealous since this person keeps taking (Y/N)’s attention, but he’d never put the blame on you. Just… like I said, be patient, and don’t get too offended.

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esamastation · 3 years

Text

Roy doesn't know exactly when the new alchemist joins them on the field.

It's a bad time - they're establishing a new camp in the town and the area is under constant assault, it seems. Small strikes on all sides, seemingly from nowhere, taking out a man there, another there, crippling a truck, taking out a road… The Ishvalans are using some sort of network of tunnels, the brass thinks, and it's Roy's job to smoke them out. So that's what he's been doing, seemingly all week… smoking out the supposed tunnels.

There are no tunnels, though. The Ishvalans are just getting desperate and in their desperation they're figuring out new methods. They have home field advantage and new tricks of camouflaging themselves in the rubble that used to be their home. Ruins of a people, blending in the ruins the Amestrians had made of their houses. They're learning to live with it, to work with it, because it's all they have - and they're getting good because they have little choice in the matter.

No one is listening to Roy when he points it out, though. There's a dismissiveness to the higher ups, when it comes to the evolution of Ishvalan tactics. "What are they doing now, praying for better guns?" As though this war, hasn't already gone on three times as long as originally projected.

Roy is thinking about it, staring at a crooked, unlit cigarette someone had put into his shaking hands, when he's introduced to the new alchemist.

"Good news, Mustang," Hughes says, with absolutely no joy in his cheerful smile, and less so in his cheerful voice. It sounds like he's chewing charcoal. "You're getting partner."

Roy looks up, his mind still in the meeting room, thinking about numbers on a map, how they didn't quite capture the reality of charred skeletons. It takes a moment for what he sees in front of him to sink in.

Another blue uniform, still pressed sharp and bright new under the beige overcoat that's supposed to protect it and it's wearer from the dust and heat of Ishval. What stands before him isn't a soldier though - it's barely a man. It's a short blond boy, no older than sixteen at most, with heavy non-regulation boots and silver watch chain at his hip.

The horror and disgust that wells up it's barely a blip before it's smothered under, oh, of course, and shit, are we here already? Then Roy stands up, puts the unlit cigarette away and holds out his right hand.

"Major Roy Mustang - the Flame Alchemist."

The blond boy smiles, crooked and sharp and just as mirthless as Hughes beside him. "Nick Flamel - the Fullmetal Alchemist." His grip is tight and brief, his hand gloved.

He'd be the newest youngest State Alchemist then. Roy had heard his record had been beaten, though he hadn't really paid attention to who or how.

Hughes looks between them and for a moment his eyes show a certain desperation. Then he covers it up and pats Flamel's shoulder. "Fullmetal here is stationed under you until he gets a hang of things - you'll show him the ropes, teach him what's what."

Keep him alive, is what Hughes' eyes say, and no wonder. Being as young as he is, the kid can't have much in the way of training. Alchemists don't need to go through basic, after all - they're not there to march or shoot guns or stand in lines. Flamel had probably just gotten his watch, his uniform, and a one way ticket to Ishval. To one of the worst, most contested zones at that. Shit.

Did the brass send the kid here to die?

"What's your specialty - metallurgical transmutation?" Roy asks.

"I don't have a speciality, really," Flamel says and pushes his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. It doesn't quite fit him right - too wide across shoulders, a bit too long. They'd either left some growing room, or they just didn't have a uniform small enough. "But I'm damn good at environmental alchemy, which I figure is what I'll be doing the most around here."

Roy blinks. "Environmental alchemy," he repeats.

"I can make the battleground my bitch," Flamel says, his crooked smile sharpening.

And abruptly Roy is already exhausted with the kid. He's one of those, then, a cocky little sumbitch, top of his class and talk of the town, so used to being the top dog of his little bubble that he has no concept of what the real world is like outside that little bubble. Guys like him come swaggering in all the time, all big talk and smug grins, so sure they're going to be carrying their little superiority complexes spotlessly over the finish line that they walk into the first fucking landmine that comes across.

Roy sees himself holding the kid's hand after he gets gunned down, still thinking himself invulnerable, and it's exhausting.

"What?" Flamel asks, suspicious at his silence.

Hughes, giving the kid the exact same look Roy must be, clears his throat. "How about you show us?" he suggests. "So we'll have an idea what we're working with here."

Flamel arches a brow at that and then looks around, light brown - or are they burnished gold? - eyes narrowing in thought.

Their camp is still a mess from the last attack - they're fixing the fences and filling the holes in the road that got busted in the smattering of mortar fire from two days ago. The perimeter is more secure now, for a given value of secure. They'd chosen the highest spot in the town, the temple mount, to give them a high vantage point - better than being penned into a valley. It leaves them pretty damn open though.

Flamel looks over the houses they'd taken over, the tents pitched in the streets and the flag of Amestris hung over the prayer hall, and clicks his tongue. Then he claps his hands together, and crouches down.

For a split of a second, barely a blink, it looks like he's praying.

Then he slaps his hands on the street beneath their feet - and in a crackle of alchemical energy and rumble of displaced earth, the street reforms. The dirt flattens, grows perfect paving stones, shifts to form neat walkways on the sides, even forming gutters. Between one breath and the next, they have a perfect Amestrian city street, formed from the dust of Ishval, surrounded by Ishvalan buildings.

While the soldiers on the newly reformed street let out shouts of shock, Roy just stares, his mind trying to jump hoops figuring out how the kid just did that. Circles in his skin, under his sleeves, inside his gloves…?

Hughes whistles, hiding his wild eyes in a squint. "Nice. You know, it doesn't rain much around here," he comments.

"So?" Flamel asks.

"The gutters aren't really necessary."

Flamel looks at the street he'd made, hands resting on his hips, and shrugs. "Eh, can't hurt," he says and motions at the street. "Anyway, imagine that, but spikes instead of paving stones."

Roy swallows and looks at the kid, who's just standing there, seemingly in no way bothered. Fullmetal doesn't look smug or proud of what he'd done, only grinning a little bit at the way the soldiers throw away their shovels, no longer needed. If this isn't something for the him to even brag about, then…

Roy has in his head an image of the kid doing a field of spikes under a charging assault force, eviscerating people by the dozens, and it's clearly not Flamel's only trick. It's probably not even in his top five.

Fuck, the kid would end up with a three digit death toll by his first engagement.

"Right," Roy says. He isn't sure what his face is doing but going Hughes' expression, it's probably not good. "You can make gutters. How about trenches?"

Flamel grins, his eyes like molten metal. "Try me."

By the end of the week - no, by the end of the day their camp is hugely improved by Flamel. The fence is turned into a solid stone wall, constructed within minutes from the remains of bombed out houses. Another pile of rubble is turned into a watch tower. They have trenches, they have pits, Flamel even adds a moat and spikes around the camp, like they're in an ancient fortress or something. Hell, there's even gargoyles in the corners of the wall.

They go from one of the least secure camps to one of the most heavily fortified seemingly overnight. It's a huge boost to troop morale - not so for Roy's sanity. Flamel doesn't even look winded by the end of his improvements.

"How are you doing the circles?" Roy asks finally - bit of a social Faux Pas among alchemists, especially military alchemists, but he has to ask. Flamel made entire buildings, and he hadn't stopped to draw a single sigil.

"In my head," Flamel says, shrugging. Like that makes any sense.

Roy looks at him and then at the changes he's made, and can't say it's impossible - he can see the results with his own eyes. And they're more than impressive, they're…

Flamel isn't going to be here long, he realises. Whether the brass send the kid here to get rid of him or not, the moment word about Flamel's real abilities spread, he'd be snagged by the first general with any fucking sense. The kid's a powerhouse. Roy is too, of course, that's why he's here - but Fullmetal is a different kind of powerhouse. Just by himself, he would be able to establish a secure foothold in the middle of enemy territory and that's not someone you just let sit idle.

Roy looks at the kid and feels torn between feeling sorry, jealous and a little bit bitter. If only he was a bit higher in rank, he could keep Flamel and make a full use his abilities - and maybe keep him from becoming a mass murderer in the process.

"What was your exam like?" Roy asks. There's no way the kid showed even a fraction of these abilities, he wouldn't be here at all if he had. "How'd you end up with a name like Fullmetal?" From what he'd seen something like Earth Moving or Groundbreaking would've been more apt.

"I made a spear in my exam," Flamel says, not looking at him. "And pointed it at Bradley."

"... And they didn't arrest you?"

Flamel smirks a little and looks at him. "What did you do?" he asks. "I bet you scorched something."

Roy had. He'd been welcomed in on the spot. "Training dummies," he agrees, giving him a pointed look. "Because I don't have a death wish."

Flamel shrugs. "It got me what I wanted," he says and stretches his arms. "So, what comes next?"

Roy looks at their newly secure camp. "Depends on the Colonel, but I bet you'll be doing more road work. We need a clear path in and out of the town."

Even though the town is officially theirs, that doesn't stop the guerilla attacks - but now, with a secure camp, all they needed was a clear path for troops to move in and then it'd be only a matter of time. If the two of them weren't already reassigned by then, they'd be after the supply line was secure. Alchemists weren't wasted in safe stations.

"But that's tomorrow's problem," Roy decides. "Come in, kid - let's get something to eat."

- - -

Nostalgia is doing rounds in my brain.

#Fanfiction #Fma #fullmetal alchemist #roy mustang #edward elric #time travel #Ishval war

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Note

Hi can I request the boys reactions to coming back and seeing that MC has snucked into their beds

The Brothers Find the MC Asleep in Their Bed

This is that other bed request. Back to my fluffy content! Huzzah!! I was a fidgeting mess on that last one… If it wasn't in second person I probably would have never gotten through it… 🤦‍♀️😅 Amazing how distancing the pronoun "you" can be when you're writing: "Oh no, this ain't happening to me, it's gonna happen to you. I dunno what to tell ya." 🤷‍♀️ I give my props for this to one to my favorite jazz singers, Nicki Parrot, and her rendition of I Won't Last a Day Without You.

Intro:

If you're missing someone and, presumably, you have a fairly intimate relationship then something you can do is stay in their bed. Sure, your loved one’s body may not be next to yours but the familiarity can help soothe that aching heart… So when the brothers were away from the House for a few days, it wasn't totally unreasonable for the MC to sneak a night or two in their favorite demon's bed.

If only they had known said demon would come home early…

Lucifer

It was a looong trip for him. Lucifer only goes up to the human world for business reasons and usually he has to bring Mammon to keep an eye on him, which he also swears ages him by a century each time he does…

When he retired to his room that night he wasn't really looking to talk or interact with anyone, not his brothers and not even the MC. He just wanted to go to sleep…

He wasn't expecting to find his human curled up under his sheets, though. And without him there no less.

Had it been another day, he might have just woken them up and sent them away or slept somewhere else but that night, after the trip he had, he felt so… loved all of sudden...

His brothers never miss him when he leaves. They give him the usual welcoming rigmarole when he gets back, "Good to see you, how was the trip?" that kind of thing, but he can tell they're all disappointed that he's back to discipline them again…

But here was the MC, apparently wanting him back so much that they'd risk breaking into his room just to feel close to him again… It's honestly good he was the only conscious soul in the room because if anyone else had seen the look on his face, he'd have to start erasing some memories again.

He changed clothes quietly before getting into the bed himself, careful not to jostle them too much. Only once he was settled in, did he give them a tender kiss to their forehead and finally got a good night's sleep...

Mammon

Look, he never asks to be dragged along with Lucifer on his business trips! It's a pain in the ass for everyone involved so he was more than happy to be home...

So happy in fact, that he didn't think to check his bed before he went sailing into it face first…

When he didn't feel the cushion of his mattress below him, but what felt like muscle and bone, he screamed. Which caused the MC to shoot up from under his covers and scream right back at him.

The two dummies screamed at each other for about five seconds straight before it clicked that neither even knew what they were screaming about… 🙄

"MC?!? The hell are ya doin'?! This is my bed, ya know??"

Oh was he tickled pink when they told him they came there just 'cause they missed him so much… Of course they'd miss the Great Mammon! Anybody who got to spend that much time in his presence would eventually! And he had been missing them so much he could hardly see straight anyway...

"Geez, is that all? Well fine! You can stay the night, but only for tonight! … I mean, unless ya want to stay longer or somethin' crazy like that….. You want to, doncha?"

And that's how the MC ended up spending the next week in the arms of their first man… and getting a pretty good bruise on their shoulder too from Mammon's thick skull slamming into it.

Leviathan

He was coming back from a three-day convention and boy was he tired… There's only so much excitement an introvert can withstand for that long without shutting down completely...

His first clue that something was a little off was his door. It was unlocked. Since he was positive he locked it before he left, he was already on edge... Mammon was in there stealing his stuff again, wasn’t he??

He had his demon form already out when he threw the door open, expecting to have to chase out a thief, but instead he found the MC's arm sticking out of his bathtub-bed.

Cue an incredibly flustered Levi. Did the MC really want to sleep with him? A yucky otaku?? Did they miss him that much?? For a brief moment, he hit cloud nine and beyond.

Levi was frozen in his doorway for a good five minutes, too afraid to walk in and possibly disturb them, before he finally tiptoed to have a look in the tub.

…. He may or may not have snapped a picture when he saw them snuggled against his Ruri-chan body pillow… So what if that's a little creepy??? You're creepy!!

There wasn't really a good way for him to squeeze in with them so he settled for pulling his computer chair over and taking their outstretched hand in his own...

He stayed like that all night until the MC woke up to find him passed out next to them, head rolled back in the chair but still holding their hand with laced fingers...

Satan

He hates going to the human world with Lucifer, even though he acknowledges that he's better behaved than the others for it. That doesn't change the fact that he'd much rather be back in his room with a good book...

He just wasn't expecting the MC to share his sentiments so… identically?

After his trip to Paris with Lucifer, Satan dragged his bags back into his room and expected to at least get another hour of reading in before his mind finally caught up with his body… But to his surprise, his bed was already occupied.

The MC was half-under his covers with their head wedged into the corner of the wall above his pillows, sound asleep… A stray book sat by their hand, one of his favorites too judging by the cover.

He felt the warmth of a chuckle escape his chest… How many times had he woken up in that exact same position? It was almost like they missed him so badly they tried to be him for a while... It was all too cute for words…

He put aside getting some sleep just long enough to take care of his MC, gently moving their body back under the covers and setting the book onto one of the endless stacks that surrounded his bed.

Only once he had them placed into a more comfortable position did he change his clothes and take the spot in the bed next to them…

The MC woke up very much not how they fell asleep… but trading out a good book in their hand for a warm bookworm against their body wasn't a bad deal now, was it?

Asmodeus

He was on one of those long self-care retreats and though, yes, it was a good time he really needed a good nap after such a long trip… He was even considering shortening his nightly routine for once.

When he came into his room, he was ready to just faceplant into his pillows until he spied MC's head poking out from under his covers…

He squealed, but not out of anger or fright. No, no. He felt nothing but Pure. Joy. His heart was soaring and he could have sang, he was just that happy!

His human missed him so much that they just needed to wrap themselves up under his covers?? Well, of course they would wouldn't they? There's no good substitute for Asmo and he knows it.

His literal shriek made the MC shoot out of his bed and try to apologize but he just tackled them back down, wrapping his arms around them in a vice grip of adoration. He was not letting them back down now. It was cuddle time!

In truth, their sudden appearance shocked Asmo awake for about another hour, which he spent snuggled up to his MC and babbling about his trip. He did eventually lose steam though, falling asleep soundly with his head snuggled into the crook of their neck.

The lovey mood was dampened slightly when he woke up and realized he hadn't done any of his routine the night before, but since the MC was still resting in his arms he decided that, just this once, he didn't need to rush it...

Beelzebub

Beel's team had just come back from a long tournament trip and, for the first time ever, he could say that he was more tired than he was hungry…

Belphie was really happy to have his twin back, but this time he was kind of ignoring his brother's excitement as his mind zoned in on his bed… He almost didn't notice the MC was even in there until he pulled back the covers to climb in himself.

His poor sleep-deprived mind had to take a minute to catch up… This was his bed wasn't it...? 😰

"Beel? Is that MC?" "... I think so?" "Why are they in your bed?" "I don't know… Maybe they just wanted to sleep here?" "... Uh-huh. Hey, Beel, I know you're tired. How about you just take my bed instead since it's free? I'll take yours tonight."

Since he was so exhausted, Beel almost considered the offer until he noticed the resentful pout on Belphie's face... Oh. Right. The MC probably wanted to sleep with him. That meant they must have missed him… That thought alone gave Beel a warm, fuzzy feeling like he'd just taken a giant gulp of hot cocoa and he just couldn't help his groggy smile.

"No… This is fine." "But-" "I don't mind, Belphie. Goodnight."

He didn't give his jealous twin any more room to argue before he climbed into bed next to the MC, nestling them close to his chest as if he was welcoming them home instead. And in his last moments of consciousness, Beel promised himself that they'd wake up just like this too…

Belphegor

Belphie tends to hate trips about as much as Levi, especially ones where Beel or the MC can't come along... Too much hassle and all his brothers make so much noise…

When he finally got back from the trip Lucifer dragged him into, he only had one thing on his mind. Sleep. His bed was calling to him, that's where he needed to be… and the MC too, apparently?

He was honestly a little caught off guard to find the MC in his bed... The attic bed? Sure. That was their cuddle space and it was practically sacred ground at that point. But the bed in the room he shared with Beel...? They didn't stay there very often…

Which meant they weren't in his bed just because they wanted to sleep. They wanted him… Had they been awake he might have had something smug to say, but without any audience to save face to he just felt somewhat honored…

There wasn't a day that went by where Belphie didn't regret the things he'd done to them, even during the quiet moments where they assured him that they'd forgiven him for it... Seeing them there in his actual bed proved something, they chose him. No one else.

He didn't think twice about crawling under there next to them, he even got into his usual position by their side on instinct. But this time, for a minute or two, he just watched their sleeping form peacefully and counted himself lucky to even be there…

When the MC woke up to Belphegor wrapped around them, an adoring smile nuzzled into their neck, and they just had to wonder if the mere act of sleeping alone was all they’d ever need to summon their demon home...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Routines

Tim and Marinette lived busy lives.

It was by choice, of course.

They were both prominent figures in their fields that could pick and choose the assignments they wished to take, had more money than they could ever dream of using thanks to the hefty trust fund that being even tangentially related to Bruce Wayne provided, and no one would blame them if they were to lessen or give up their vigilantism. If they wished, there was nothing stopping them from taking a smaller workload, from using up all of their sick days, from taking vacations, from quitting their jobs entirely...

That being said, they likely never would.

And the tabloids loved to speculate on their relationship because of it. How could they spend much time together if Tim was always at work, developing new technology for Wayne Enterprises? Marinette was cheating, how could she not when so much of her job as a designer involved getting up close and personal with models? Not to mention all of the business trips. Surely, the relationship had some kind of monetary motivation, or maybe it was just to more seamlessly merge their companies, or it had only happened for PR reasons.

They let them speculate. They simply didn’t know better.

The tabloids didn’t get to see how they acted behind closed doors, after all.

There would be days where neither of them went in to work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.

They took breaks. Technically. If you squint.

There would be days where neither of them went into work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.

They would turn on the coffee machine and then make their way over to the sofa. Marinette would nestle herself into his side and smile as he wrapped his arm around her. He would pull her as close as he possibly could so he could still use both arms to type.

He usually took video calls like this. It was always so much easier to maintain a pleasant smile, even when people often looked down on him for his age, because whenever he felt it start to waver he could simply look down at his girlfriend and suddenly he would find that it would be back in full force.

She would prop her sketchbook on her legs and start on some new designs. The designs she did like this were always, inexplicably, more lively than the other ones -- full of vibrant colors and swooping curves in a way that some of her other works lacked. If asked, Marinette would joke that the secret ingredient was love.

And, sure, this wasn’t technically taking a break from work. They were still productive, still did tasks...

But they counted it. They always came back to work the next day with the same euphoric feelings in their chests, the same springs in their steps. How could they not? They’d spent the entire day doing what they loved with the person that they loved. Who could ever want a break from that?

Every time one of them came back from a business trip, they made sure to spend the night together.

Tim would lay back in bed, Marinette on top of him. Her head would come to rest on his chest, clutching the back of his shirt tightly. His fingers would find their way to her hair and she would huff a little, knowing that her hair was about to get hopelessly tangled as he fidgeted with the silky strands, but she would nuzzle into his chest all the same.

They would watch a TV show. It didn’t matter whether it was good or bad. As long as there were people and some semblance of a plot, they would gladly stay wrapped up in each other’s arms to watch it.

Tim would rattle off whatever theories he had developed as they came to mind. Some of them were absolutely insane, he knew, and would never happen… but it was worth making a fool of himself if it got Marinette’s face to light up or if he earned one of those little giggles that escaped her when he was instantly proven wrong.

Marinette would, at least, pause the show whenever she wanted to talk, though it wasn’t out of an understanding of how time works. No, it was so she could sit up a little in his lap and point at whichever character had offended her this time. She would go on long rants about how makeup was just as important as outfits in costuming, but it was often overlooked in favor of making the actors look pretty. And, maybe she had already said all of this before, but it’s important, Tim! And he would just nod his agreement. Because it was important -- a TV night certainly wouldn’t feel like a TV night without at least one rant.

And then the screen would go black, the most recent episode done.

Tim would draw back a little and then pretend to be shocked when his hands were stuck in her hair.

“Oh noooooo,” he’d say. “I guess I can’t let go yet.”

“How unfortunate,” she would deadpan.

He’d smile cheekily at her.

“Shut up.”

“But I didn’t even say anything!” He’d argue with overexaggerated offense.

She would smile, shaking her head as much as she could with the fingers in her hair. “You didn’t have to. You have a presence about you.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he’d say.

And, sometimes, she’d bring her hands up to cup his face. “Not sure if it was a compliment, but I definitely wouldn’t have it any other way,” she’d whisper before pulling him closer for a kiss.

… but, most of the time she would just laugh and say: “It wasn’t one.”

Once a month, Marinette tried to teach Tim to cook. Of course, they both knew it was a hopeless endeavor. He’d failed to make mac n’ cheese once, and Marinette -- who had lived the first eighteen years of her life in a Parisian bakery -- wasn’t good at discerning which meals were ‘easy to do’.

But that didn’t stop her from trying.

She would come up with a new recipe, would claim that this one was truly dummy proof…

And then Tim, dummy that he was, would manage to mess it up. Without fail, he would find some way to do something wrong. He would leave the milk on the stove and then be surprised when said milk on the stove decided to revolt against the system. He would raise the temperature on the thing they were baking so it would go faster and then be shocked when the cake didn’t rise at all. He would put too much in the mixer and then not understand why the contents had exploded over the two of them.

Worst thing was, she was pretty sure he was actually trying. He just… couldn’t seem to do it.

So, she would just kiss the disappointed frown off of his face and promise that they would do better next time.

And, every time without fail, he would light up.

“There will be a next time?” He would ask.

“Yeah. You’re lucky you’re cute, I can’t say I love being covered in ingredients.”

Tim would kiss her cheek, and then draw back and lick his lips. “I don’t know, I kind of like it. Something about my girlfriend being covered in tasty food really does something for me.”

“Like I said: you’re lucky you’re cute.”

And, even though she would say that, there was no mistaking the amusement dancing in her eyes.

They weren’t particularly religious, it was hard to be when Marinette had a god living in her earrings that obeyed her every command…

Which meant celebrations for the two of them were few and far between.

But, at least, they celebrated their anniversary.

They would sit on the rooftop, the blankets doing nothing to keep the hard tiles of the roof from digging into them and they did even less against the chilly Gotham air.

She’d stare up at the sky with him.

And, since it was Gotham, there were very few stars to be seen through the dark red and black haze of clouds that hung over the city.

But they didn’t mind.

Marinette smiled. “It’s our colors.”

He didn’t look over, watching the colors swirl above them. “Even the sky thinks we’re a good couple.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. The sky god really does have a thing for love.”

He gave a short puff of laughter and finally tore his eyes away from the sky. “Really?”

She shrugged, grinning at him. “No clue. There might not even be a sky god.”

He scoffed and untangled his hand from its blanket prison to give her a tiny shove. She could have dodged the attempt with ease, but she allowed the hand to make contact.

To her surprise, he grabbed ahold of her shoulder and pulled her into him. She gave an undignified little squeak and, if it weren’t for the fact that he was right there, she would have probably faceplanted onto the tile.

But, instead, her face came crashing into his soft, pillowy shoulder.

She looked up at the crooked grin that she had come to love over the years and huffed, pulling her own arms free so she could shove him. For real.

He flopped back, the hand he’d managed to get out coming to rest over his chest as if he were hurt.

“How could you? Roofs hurt, you know.”

“Well, yeah, if you throw yourself down on tiles it’s not going to feel too great.”

He cracked a grin, though he quickly tamped it down to keep up the act: “Victim blaming at its finest.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned over him. One of her hands cradled his cheek, her thumb tracing the tiny scar on his cheekbone.

He looked up at her. And she thought, somewhere, that maybe the reason the pollution in the city was just some kind of coverup so no one would know that they all resided in Tim’s eyes.

And then she cursed herself mentally for thinking something so cheesy.

She had to make up for it somehow:

“You’re the worst, I hope you know that.”

“I am. But you love me anyway.”

Dang it. How was she supposed to feign being annoyed when he looked at her like that? With that soft smile and thick lashes and hair that framed his face just so.

She decided it wasn’t worth trying to pretend.

Marinette let herself match his smile.

“I do.”

“Save those words for our wedding,” he joked softly.

She rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even proposed yet.”

“I could be doing that right now. Who knows, this could all be my plan.”

“It’d be a good plan,” she said. “I’d probably say yes.”

He narrowed his eyes just slightly. “Isn’t that essentially you proposing to me?”

She tipped her head to the side, considering, then she laughed a little. “I guess it kind of is. So, Tim, will you marry me?”

His eyes widened to an almost comical degree.

And then his face lit up with a smile that made her heart flutter.

“I hope you know I want a ring.”

She giggled. “Just say yes, you idiot. We can always get the ring tomorrow.”

His smile only stretched further. “Yes. I’d love to marry you.”

“I love you,” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips brushed against his.

“I love you, too,” he breathed.

Marinette didn’t hesitate any longer, tilting her head to give him a proper kiss. He freed himself of the blanket and she gasped a little against his lips as he wrapped her up in it as well, drawing her close.

She pulled away just a little, her forehead coming to rest against his. She couldn’t seem to get the dopey smile off of her face, but she wasn't completely sure she even wanted it gone.

“I proposed first, so I won,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

He smiled. “No, I did.”

#i did the impossible and got 100 subs on ao3 #so i figured id attempt the impossible again #its all fluff #not a single swear #AND its a oneshot #i did it i did the impossible we can all go home now #(please dont leave lol)#maribat #routines #shutterbug #timari #timmari #timinette #red robin #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Under the Floorboards (Pt. VI)

(Technoblade X Reader) Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V, Pt. VI, Pt. VII

You had barely gotten any sleep that night, it was a shitty time to not sleep but you couldn’t control insomnia. Most nights it was Techno who was the insomniac, he would spend hours laying awake just staring at you waiting for the voices to quiet down for the night. He was in awe of your beauty and grace, and the nighttime moonlight only ever enhanced those features. You couldn’t help but understand what he was talking about as you stared at his features in the moonlight darkness of your room. His hair was out of its typical braid and framed his head like a pink halo, you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you tucked his hair behind his ear. The tension in his brow released feeling your touch brush against his skin and you smiled adoringly at the sight. His nose nuzzles up against your neck and your smile split into a wide grin, god he was so soft. You felt his fingers spread out against the small of your back and pull you flush against him, his breathing changed and you frowned.

You didn’t expect anything less than the blood god to be a light sleeper. He always needed to be on his feet, ready for any attack.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” your voice was barely above a whisper and he made a tired noise of confirmation.

“It’s okay,” He yawned and it echoed across the walls of the house like a lion’s roar. “It’s rare when you can’t sleep, what’s on your mind?” Technoblade shifted a little so he could get a good look at you in his arms, he could never get over how small you were in comparison to him. You flipped on your back much to his displeasure and dragged your hands down your face; a sigh came from your nose before you answered,

“Thinking about tomorrow is all. Just nervous, typical stuff I think, I don’t trust Dream fully. He gives me bad vibes.” You said honestly, your (e/c) eyes staring up at the ceiling even from the angle Techno was looking at you he could tell they were sad. God, he wasn’t good at comforting people things like this made him feel like such a shitty person.

“I don’t trust him either. But, we have mutual goals and a mutual understanding both of which are hard to come by.” He explained briefly looking thoughtful, “the bottom line is this needs to happen. I don’t want you to worry because Phil and I will have your back no matter what, we look out for each other.” You flopped on top of him and he let out a grunt of displeasure,

“I’m worried about you dummy.”

“Technoblade never dies baby what are you on about?” He let out a laugh as you rested your elbows on his chest, his hands found themselves on your back holding you close. He watched you roll your eyes dramatically and pinch at his ears, he clicked his tongue at you. “Keep pinching my ears like that and we’re gonna have to fight it out,” his lips twitched into a fond smile as you sat upon his hips holding up your fists.

“Then let’s fight cause I’m not gonna stop. They’re just too pinchable big guy. Your little piglin features are precious and I’m gonna dote over them.” His face burned red and he groaned loudly, his head landing against the pillows with a thump.

“It’s just the ears, teeth, and the height. You’re being gross.”

“Fuck you I’m being romantic.”

“Which is gross and cringe if you didn’t know.”

“Fine then I guess you won’t be getting any kisses from me for a long while.”

“Now hold on a minute let's talk about this like adults,” You laughed loudly and smirked at Techno’s attempts to keep cool about the situation. You leaned down and peppered his face with light kisses, he hummed pleasantly at the sensation.

“I’ll let it slide this time but watch your words.” Techno gave a sleepy nod of his head, and you smiled tenderly at the man. You shuffled around and curled up against his side, he adjusted himself to hold you close, “I love you Techno.”

“Love you too princess.” He pecked your forehead before he closed his eyes and fell back into a light sleep. You took a deep breath and buried your face in his chest listening to the rhythmic beating of his heart, this time however you weren’t far behind him.

~~~

Technoblade was up as soon as the sun rose over the hills and spilled into your bedroom. He made sure to maneuver around you so that he wouldn’t wake you as soon as he sat up in bed. He stretched his arms behind his back until he heard the satisfying pop of his bones, he scratched at his head and tousled his pink hair. Techno wanted an early start, make sure everything they needed for the day was prepared and ready to go, he needed to brew a shit ton of potions. He also needed to make sure you had an appropriate set of armor, that’s not even mentioning the Withers he needed to gather. A lot to do and so little time to get it all done, he wanted to let you sleep as much as possible considering you didn’t sleep last night. He slid out of bed and grabbed his hairbrush, one thing he could attribute to meeting you was his hygiene habits. Techno always used to keep his hair in a braid and never touch it, it wasn’t until you had first run your hands through his hair that he realized how much of a problem that was. You were very nice about it but he could tell you were trying not to gag when he told you he couldn’t remember the last time it was unbraided. You assured him that was going to change and helped him nurse his hair back to life, whatever you did it was magical. His hair was just as soft as yours, healthy and shiny he couldn’t let you down by not taking care of it. However, since he was going into battle he threw his hair into a quick braid letting it fall over his shoulder before he majestically sat his crown on top of his head.

Technoblade stared at himself in the mirror and traced his rough hands over the scars on his face and neck, he had no idea what the fuck you saw in him. Honestly, who cares though because by some miracle you love him for him and that’s all that matters. Technoblade continued to get dressed for the day and only stopped when you began to stir under the covers. He watched you sit up and give the cutest yawn he’s ever heard in his life his eyes softened considerably seeing you look around hazily for him. Spotting him you opened your arms and made grabby hands, he let out a deep chuckle and wrapped his arms around you.

‘Simp. Stop spamming simp. He is a simp though, look at him melt. Shut up.’

“Chat shut it...Morning Princess,” He kissed your lips softly and he felt you lazily kiss him back, still sluggish from sleep.

“Morning Bubs. Why didn’t you wake me up?” You complained from his arms only pulling away to look him in the eyes. He always thought you had the most gorgeous eyes, why was he feeling so lovey-dovey today?

‘Cause, you could lose her today. Her lives are unknown. What if she only has one like Phil and has no idea and she dies? E.’

Those thoughts and ideas chilled him to the bone he swallowed thickly, “You sure I can’t change your mind about today?” He watched your brow furrow and you kissed your teeth,

“No way. Till the end of the line remember?”

“Oh, I remember. In that case,” Technoblade pulled you to your feet much to your surprise, “You come back to me uninjured, we get married.” He watched your jaw drop and your eyes widen to insane sizes. “If you want obviously, no pressure.”

‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU. AWWWWW SO ROMANTIC! SIMP. SHE’S GOING TO SAY NO. LOSER. CRINGE. GUYS STOP HE’S BEING SWEET!’

He felt panic surge through him when you didn’t respond to him for a good few minutes, oh he fucked up. Technoblade never dies, more like Technoblade’s about to throw himself into lava three fucking times.

“Yes! Holy shit yes you idiot! Damn now that’s some motivation!” You laughed in disbelief and you bounced on your toes. Technoblade let out a breath of relief, he took a risk and it paid off, he was Technoblade after all so of course, it did. He wasn’t worried at all. You grabbed the fluff of his cape and pulled him down to kiss him passionately, his hands grabbed your hips and lifted you into the air. He knew it wasn’t official yet, as he said you had to come back okay, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate at least a little bit early. He kissed down your face and listened as you giggled, he could tell your face was turning red by its heat, “Okay goober we gotta get ready. There are crimes we gotta commit and I still need to shower.”

“Nonsense you smell like lavender and’ all that other girly stuff.” Technoblade scoffed but pulled away as you requested. A smile fell across your face and he felt you poke his nose fondly, “I’ll be gathering potion materials, if you need me just holler.” On that note, he headed down the ladder to gather what he needed for the day. Phil would probably be joining momentarily and he’d put him on potion making duty and also give him a totem of undying. His stomach churned a little as he placed water bottles inside the brewing stands, his singular totem of undying.

He had already decided he’d give it to Phil, if he didn’t he felt like it would be a betrayal of all the man had done for him in the past.

Technoblade turned towards the window and saw Phil approaching his home from the sky, he opened the window and gave him a little wave. Phil smiled back at him and climbed the stairs to get inside the house, “Hello. Are you both ready for today?” Phil looked around seemingly trying to spot you, Technoblade pointed upstairs and he nodded in understanding.

“I wouldn’t say we’re ready exactly.” He let out a huff, “I’m trying to make triple the potions before Dream gets here, plus I wanna make sure (Y/N)’s weapons and armor are enchanted properly.” Phil hummed thoughtfully opening up some of Technoblade’s chests, only mentally gagging at the disorganization.

“I got your back brewing the potions, go double-check everything’s ready for (Y/N), I know you worry ‘bout her mate.” Techno had to turn away because he felt heat flare in his face, he heard Phil begin to snicker and he glowered.

“Imagine thinking I care about others, cringe.”

“Oh really? I’ll just go tell (Y/N) that then-”

“Eh? No need to do that. I don’t appreciate being framed. Anyway, potions Phil, potions you need to focus on what’s important here.” Another laugh came from Phil as he rolled his eyes fondly at his friend.

“On it Techno.”

Both men got to work brewing potions and double-checking weaponry, not just for you but for all of them. Well, all of you minus Dream the homeless man can fend for himself. In the meantime, Technoblade gave Phil his totem of undying just in case today went fucking wrong.

“Alright boys, what do you need me to do?” You announced climbing down the ladder, you had made sure your hair was out of the way so it wouldn’t be a distraction. Technoblade smiled as he watched the emerald he gave you those months ago bounce against your neck.

“Go make sure you have enough ender pearls and exp bottles for your armor. Is all your armor enchanted properly?”

“Obviously,” You rolled your eyes dramatically “as if you’d ever let me get away with subpar armor.” Technoblade held up his hands in defensively,

“Just making sure. You can’t blame me for wanting you protected.”

“Daw.”

“Shut up Phil.” Technoblade watched a smile form across your face as you covered your mouth with your hand. He was just happy you were laughing, “grab your weapons lemme check them.” You nodded your head and kissed his cheek tenderly, he normally wasn’t one for PDA but Phil was a different story. You handed over your weapons to him and he looked over them, he started with your sword that was aptly titled The Wanderer’s Trade all the enchantments seemed to line up properly, he also double-checked your ax to see it lined up too. “Remember their shields go up you use your ax.” He watched as you nodded in response, you weren’t dumb he knew that but he couldn’t help but want to double-check strategies with you.

“I know you trained me well,” You hummed fondly, as he handed you back your ax. He watched as you twirled it in your hands, “Good ole’ Foster Mom won’t let me down.” Both Phil and Techno chuckled at your response, Technoblade gave you a loving pat on the head before sending you off to gather some more glowstone. The three of you spent the rest of the morning gathering supplies, and as the afternoon rolled around Technoblade felt himself grow more and more frantic as the time ticked closer to doomsday. He began to ramble a bit about needing to prepare things especially after Dream showed up early and announced they were going early into L’manberg. Dream explained that he was going to need about twenty minutes to prepare the TNT for the cannons, which meant (Y/N), Phil, and Technoblade himself needed to stall for that amount of time.

That meant the Withers needed to be in play.

Technoblade distributed Wither skulls and the soul sand between the three of you.

He watched as you stared at the skull in your hands gently cradling it before putting it into your inventory. He hoped you were being honest and were okay with what was about to happen.

“Now we really have to go.” Dream tried to urge your little group to speed up and get this show on the road. Techno nodded his head and clicked his tongue against his teeth,

“Alright, first things first let we need to get the hound army.” He watched your entire face come alight,

“Hound army? You didn’t tell me we had puppies!” He felt you grip his arm with the enthusiasm of a child, he winced a little bit at your eagerness. Techno glanced at Dream who was just as unreadable as always with his mask but Techno could sense his patience with you running thin.

“I didn’t wanna tell you cause there’s a good chance we lose like all of them today.” He watched you deflate but nod in understanding, “so don’t get attached okay?”

“I won’t!”

“Let’s go. Time’s ticking.” Dream commanded tapping his boots on the floor, “Let’s get those dogs and get to L’manberg.” The four of you grabbed your weapons and headed down the steps of Technoblade’s house, hopefully, you all will come back to see it again.

---

Phil walked by your side as Technoblade led all of you through the sewers, Dream was close to your boyfriend’s side almost like he was trying to memorize the proper twists and turns. However, something told you he already knew this place like the back of his hand.

“What’s on your mind?” Phil asked you to keep his voice low to not draw attention to yourselves. Smiling over at him you gave a thoughtful hum,

“Just the typical worries I suppose. Hoping we win and no one who we care about dies, like the kids you know. I know I can’t control you, Techno, or Dream but if it came down to it I won’t be able to hurt them.” The look you gave him was nothing less than vulnerable and it touched his heart with a soft sigh he responded to you,

“I know it’s not specifically in Techno or my agenda to slaughter Tommy and Tubbo. We just want to take down the corrupt government that’s poisoning its citizens. As long as it stands those kids can never be happy.”

“I’m with you there. Hell, I don’t think Techno and I could date if we didn’t share those ideologies. They made a child president for Pete’s sake I mean no wonder it’s falling apart.” You took a deep breath and nudged the old man beside you. “Even so my priorities are with you and Technoblade. We’re all fucking coming home if I have any say in the matter,” Phil gave a laugh and smiled at you.

“That’s a fucking relief to hear. Wasn’t aware you could control death.”

“Says the man with a totem of undying.”

“Guys we’re here,” Technoblade called standing beside a wall, he looked at all of you and opened the stone with his pickaxe. “Meet the hounds,” He mused leading you inside, you were trying desperately to keep your excitement at bay.

“Holy shit is it loud.” Dream commented with a disbelieving laugh hearing all the dogs bark in excitement upon seeing their master. Technoblade scratched a few of them behind the ears before commanding all of them to stand, it was insane.

“That’s so many dogs they’re gonna be so confused.” You commented,

“You know what you should do?” Dream mused, turning to look at you, “splash them with invisibility.”

“Already ahead of you,” Technoblade mused as Philza began to splash a good chunk of them. “They’re gonna be so confused it’s gonna be so funny. When they get hit by nothing, it’ll be like I have a forcefield.”

“Let's get to L’manberg and surprise them first.” Dream motioned for all of you to follow, and you did without hesitation. Technoblade took your hand and squeezed it tightly, he watched as Phil and Dream went on ahead and he turned to give you a soft kiss.

“Don’t die on me, okay princess? You get into trouble protecting yourself, run if you have to. I don’t give a shit I just want you alive.” Technoblade commanded you, even wagged a finger in front of your face. A finger you grabbed and pressed a soft kiss to,

“Same to you. I’ll see you on the other side.” Technoblade smiled adoringly at you and you both moved to catch up with Dream and Phil. You pulled out The Wanderer’s Trade and made sure Foster Mom, your ax, and the materials to craft your Withers were at the ready.

“(Y/N), Phil when I shoot fireworks into the sky start spawning the Withers. I’m going straight in with the hounds.” He watched both of you nod, Dream let out a hum of acknowledgment.

“Sounds good to me. Remember I shouldn’t need more than twenty minutes, I’ll send Technoblade the signal.”

“Yes sir.” You gave a teasing salute and no one else seemed amused by that except for the green man himself.

“I could get used to that.”

“Get the fuck out of here you homeless Teletubby.” Techno almost snarled at the man, while the man in question flipped your boyfriend off. Even Phil could tell he had a sickening smirk spread across his face, whether he meant it or not if it bothered the three of you he was gonna continue with it.

“Phil, I’ll sneak over to the houses, you gonna stay in this general vicinity?” You quickly changed the subject, the man nodded in response.

“I’ll probably stay on top of the bee sanctuary, I figure two people in the air and one on the ground will be a good call.” You nodded taking one last glance at Technoblade before sneaking off to prepare the high ground.

---

Technoblade sprinted right into the battle once everyone realized you all were there early. He felt the pressure begin to build in his head, as the voices began to buzz with excitement, they all demanded blood and vengeance. He wasn’t losing any lives today but that didn’t mean anyone else was, it was hilarious the moment he hit anyone his dogs would be at their heels tearing them apart. He stayed on top of everyone, he made sure to keep an eye on his hearts while slicing through his opponents. As they got distracted by his dogs he would come up behind them and drive his sword into their chest. His laughter echoed in the air as the names of the dead appeared in his head, he heard their pleading for a cease-fire and decided he didn’t give a single shit. Technoblade couldn’t find the energy to care for their pleas, even as his dogs began to thin rapidly. There was blood and there was pandemonium and he was living for it, sure there were a few close calls. Not that he would ever admit it, but Sapnap got him good in the shoulder and the back of the leg, almost leaving an opening for him to land a finishing blow. However, he recovered with no problem, he always did, obviously.

Technoblade booked it away from the fighting and sent the firework rocket into the sky. Almost as soon as he did, he set up his own Wither. The entire battlefield glowed red, white, and blue and he watched people’s faces morph into absolute terror. He heard what sounded like Tommy let out a terrified scream, he had no idea what he was in for if he was afraid of one Wither. Then again, Tommy was the only one who knew about the vault so realistically he shouldn’t have been surprised.

It was up to Phil and (Y/N) now.

“Is that Phil? What the hell?! He’s spawning a Wither!” Someone shouted and Technoblade’s face lit up in delight. He watched Phil send out his Withers before flying away as to not immediately get targeted by them. Technoblade turned his head towards the houses and saw you place your Withers down as well. He thought you looked gorgeous spawning in the Withers, it pulled him out of his blood lust just for a moment, the wicked smile on your face was stunning. He watched as you laughed tossing your hair back, the way it framed your face was remarkable, he thought you looked like Eris.

An arrow that whizzed by his face and it snapped him out of his ogling, he turned back to rubble only to come face to face with Tommy and Tubbo.

“Technoblade! Stop this!” Tommy began to plead as they stood on the opposite end of the battlefield, he did pause to stare at the children.

“Please!” Tubbo begged from his side and Technoblade grit his teeth in frustration, after all this time they still didn’t understand his ideals or why he was so mad in the first place.

“You betrayed us Technoblade! You betrayed me! Just fucking stop this! Help us kill the Withers and stop Dream. All you’ve ever done is betray us, since we met you that’s all you’ve done. It all started with you killing Tubbo at the festival! Just stop this!-” He felt his blood turn to ice and he turned to face Tommy pointing his crossbow at the two boys. He watched Tubbo flinch and grab onto Tommy’s arm, clearly traumatized from the last time the weapon was pointed at him. Technoblade bared his teeth and felt his face begin to morph into that of a full pig, something that only happened when he was pissed to hell and losing control of himself.

“Remember when I was sitting there, alone, against the whole government -- and you and Wilbur just sat there on the sidelines and watched? Did you step in? Did you step in? Were you guys the ones that stepped in and said, "Don't worry, Technoblade, we know you're in a high-pressure situation, but we'd fight the world for you, Technoblade''? No! You guys watched. You know what I did, yesterday when you were surrounded by thirty people? When the whole world was against you? I walked in. I was willing to fight all of them for you, Tommy. I would've been there. That is the difference between us." The man roared his voice carrying over the battleground, catching the attention of a few others who were still trying to kill the Withers nearby. For a brief moment Tommy looked broken up by Technoblade’s words but he pushed it aside with a shake of his head. He was about to argue back when the faintest of hissing sounds came from above. Everyone turned towards the sky, a flash of lightning illuminated the scene above them, Dream was standing on top of the obsidian grid. Technoblade made sure to take a few steps away so he wasn’t right underneath the first bit of dropping TNT,

“No,” Tubbo’s voice wobbled “What’s he doing, he can't-”

Almost like Tubbo predicted the outcome TNT began to rain down in the dead center of New L’manberg, the panicked shouts from the citizens only increased tenfold. The falling explosives spread out in the grid-like pattern Dream had created, making sure to hit every square inch of the once great country.

“Tubbo RUN!” Tommy grabbed his arm and pulled this best friends away just in time to not get injured by the first round of explosions that went off in the middle of town. Technoblade made quick work of dodging the falling pieces of TNT as he flew up onto the obsidian grid his Trident in hand. He watched gleefully as L’manberg was sent up in smoke, everything from the houses to whatever the fuck the L’mantree Dream mentioned was, was blown to shreds. Personally, Technoblade didn’t want Dream to stop until he saw bedrock at the bottom of the pit. He looked over and saw Phil smiling widely at him, the man gave him a clear thumbs-up spreading his wings wide. He could tell Phil was proud of him, he was proud of himself.

“Where’s (Y/N) mate?” He called out to him and the bliss he was feeling suddenly crumbled into pieces around him. Technooblade whipped around towards the last place he spotted his girlfriend, on top of the houses that were now blown to smithereens. He turned back towards Phil, panic in his eyes, Phil’s smile was immediately wiped off his face and he hopped down off the grid and into the rubble. Technoblade wasn’t far behind in his panicked searching, there was no sign of her anywhere and he was starting to lose his composure. Even as the TNT stopped falling around them and everyone began to head home (if they had one left to return to) he still couldn’t find her. That was until an unfamiliar voice called out to him,

“Mr. Technoblade!” The boy was half enderman and bordering on seven feet tall, he turned to face him and he swallowed thickly, “Miss (Y/N), she needs help!” Technoblade didn’t even respond he just let the Enderboy lead him to where she was, god please don’t be dead, please. The boy stood over her, wringing his hands nervously, a jacket was laid over her body and she was dragged far away from the wreckage. Technoblade froze as he watched the boy kneel and pull the jacket away, bandages were haphazardly tied around her waist and her breathing seems shallow. The half enderman looked up at him and swallowed thickly, “I found her under the rubble of my house.”

“I can handle it from here. Get out of here kid.” His voice was a low grumble and Ranboo hesitated for a moment before nodding, he knelt, picked up his other belongings, and headed off in the direction of the forest. Technoblade knelt beside you, his hands hovering over your injury, he felt his palms clam up as he opened and closed them. “You better not die on me princess, you promised,” he opened up the bandages on your waist, all things considered, the boy didn’t do that bad of a job patching you up. There weren't a lot of medical supplies on the battlefield so he did what he could with what he had, she must’ve gotten cut by a stray piece of metal as she fell, that’s what it looked like to him at least. Other than the jagged cut across her waist her ankle was twisted in a way that certainly wasn’t normal, his princess was beaten to hell. He swallowed thickly and began to rewrap her wound a bit more tightly so she didn’t bleed out, he felt a gust of wind beside him and he knew Phil was by his side.

“Fuck.” He murmured kneeling to set her ankle properly, the old man licked his lips before setting her ankle with a harsh tug. (Y’N)’s eyes shot open and she let out a shriek. “Sorry kid, sorry,” Her breathing went from shallow to heavy and frantic. Technoblade reached forward and grabbed your hand tight.

“Hey princess stay with me okay?”

“Bubs.” You whined painfully, “I guess I fucked up huh?”

“Only a lot,” Technoblade stated bluntly and watched as you let out a wheezing laugh that devolved into a cough. He frowned and took his other hand to card it through your hair, “Just take a deep breath we’ll get you home and all patched up.”

“Guess we aren’t getting married huh.”

“Fucking what-” Phil choked his eyes blowing wide, jaw-dropping Techno’s face flushed red in response.

“Half dead and you still find a way to torture me.” You laughed again as Phil only shook his head in disbelief,

“That is so scuffed. Go take her home, she’s gonna need stitches and a splint for her leg. Make sure she gets home safe.” Phil placed his hand on Technoblade’s shoulder and squeezed it before kissing your forehead softly, “You’re gonna be fine.”

“Obviously. Mr. Minecraft, would you expect anything less from me?”

“Nothing less,” He smiled fondly as Technoblade cradled you in his arms before hurrying away down the path. Phil stood up tall a frown evident on his features, he turned around to catch Raboo peaking out from behind the treeline. “Hey, Ranboo how’re you doing?”

“Um. I’m alright. Fine, I’m fine, is (Y/N) going to be alright?” He stepped out from behind the tree patting his hands on his pants a bit nervously. Phil eyed the kid up and down for a moment and he cleared his throat, “I found her she was really, really bad.”

“She’s going to be just fine, Techno’s looking after her.”

“Good, good.” He nodded the tall mans shoulders seemed to relax and Phil couldn’t help but look at him with pity.

“Ranboo, do you have a place to stay?”

“Ugh...you know what no I don’t actually.” Phil smiled over at the boy and held out his hand, his multicolored eyes widened a little as he interlocked his hands with the father beside him.

: )

~~~

Thanks for reading guys! I think this is the longest chapter yet, let me know your thoughts, feelings and opinions! : )

#technoblade x reader #technoblade #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #dreamsmp x reader #dream smp #dreamsmp x you #Blood for the Blood God #rp #x reader #x you #minecraft x reader #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x you #fanfiction #fanfic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Life Goes On

This if for @buckybarnesplumwhore

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; grieving, funeral, breeding, handcuffs, warnings are not exhaustive so read at your own discretion.

This is dark! Andy Barber x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You volunteer at the local youth center but when one of the kids meets an unfortunate end, you cross paths with his father. No stranger to grief, you try to help him cope but find it a bigger than task that you expected.

Note: When I started writing, I had no plan. When I kept writing, there was still no plan. And then it just all kinda happened.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

It was too sunny for a funeral. A funeral come too soon.

The service was held out in the sun, rows of wooden chairs and a sombre old priest. You never knew if the Barbers were religious but it was easy to find a holy man in Massachusetts, as easy as those early years of settlement found in textbooks.

There were no flowers, only two oblong caskets shrouded in black cloth, the name of each of the dead on silver placards, no pictures, no souvenir of who they were.

It was like Andy was already trying to forget them. He was at the front, the grieving widower and father. You were lost somewhere in the middle with his co-workers, there out of propriety more than empathy, and distant relatives who attended out of courtesy, some passing acquaintances who followed the story in the papers more than out of compassion. It was a spectacle and Andy had done his best from feeding the leering onlookers.

You knew Jacob more than his parents. He was younger than you, almost ten years apart. You knew him from the youth group you volunteered for, the same one you'd been in at his age. He was out of place there, he was from a better neighbourhood than the other kids, they called him the rich brat, and he resented himself more for it than he did them.

His attendance kept his mother happy. He didn't like the individual counseling, he didn't talk, so she put him in the group and he talked there. Sometimes. The kids never went on philosophical monologues but they understood each other and shared what they needed to.

Laurie was always late to pick him up. So he stayed to help stack the chairs and you ended up waiting with him, making sure he wasn't alone in the dark. He hated that at first too, until he realised you weren't on the stoop to council or judge. You were just two people, chatting to pass the time.

Sometimes Andy picked him up. He was friendlier than Laurie. Jacob's mother was always in a rush, even on her way home where there was no deadline. She said thanks, maybe, and drove off as she began to lecture Jacob about how he wore his hat. Andy offered you a ride, every time, as if he had some compulsion to be the good guy, the saviour. You always said no, the bus was a five minute ride to your building, fifteen minutes if you walked.

Now Jacob was dead, his mother too. Another tragedy inflicted upon those least likely. Even death didn't stop the whispers, even that venue, the priest's collar, the Biblical dirges, the grim family man in black did not silence them. It sickened you as the service ended and the people rose in a hushed murmur.

Andy left without talking to anyone. The procession of cars would drive through the streets with flags to mark the grieving on their way to the interment. It was as if Andy was doing what was expected more than what he felt he owed the deceased. He was ever the lawyer, formal and curt.

You followed the grey parade. Not out of obligation but out of genuine regret. Jacob seemed like a lost kid, even in death. The rumours, the accusations, the suspicion, followed him. The people didn't watch the dirt fall from the shovel to see him at peace, they watched it as some grand finale to the great show of the Barbers.

When the metal no longer cut and scattered the soil, the crowd thinned out. You stayed as the diggers packed up. You were sad for Jacob, for Laurie. Andy hadn't been there to see the burial. You couldn't blame him but you were surprised. He just disappeared after the service, apparently done with his part in the play.

You went closer and stared at the new stone that stretched above both plots. Laurie Barber… and her son, Jacob Barber. May they rest. It was as short, as minimal as anything else about the affair. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. You didn't know if Jacob was a bad seed, it wasn't your job to make that call, but he had just been a kid and all that potential was now six feet down.

"Didn't think anyone would stick around," the dark figure stepped up beside you, his steps muted by the grass, "least of all, you."

"I'm sorry, I…" you looked at Andy and then the dirt, "I'll go."

"Wait," he said before you could move, "I thought-- I thought I wanted to be alone for this…" he shoved his hand in his pocket, "but I've been alone since it happened and I'm realising, I'm gonna be alone from here on out."

You didn't say a word. You didn't know what you could say. He'd heard a hundred apologies, a hundred condolences.

"I'm happy someone stayed, that someone cared," he cleared his throat, "thank you."

You nodded and played with the buttons on your cardigan.

"He was too. Happy, you know, that someone cared. I think back now and I realise that you probably saw him more than me. He was always excited to go to the centre but he got in that car and he just… deflated." He shook his head, "maybe this is better. One way or the other, he wanted to get away from me but he never could get away from Laurie. She wouldn't let him go."

He chuckled sardonically but it quickly fizzled in his throat.

"Sorry, I'm rambling…"

"You're processing," you said, "a lot of the kids down at the centre, they lost parents, one way or the other, orphans, fosters… I always told them that they didn't have to make sense because grief never really does."

"Now that makes a lot of sense," he said, "but you shouldn't have to listen to me."

"I shouldn't or you don't think you should say any of it?"

"Hmmm," he hummed, "yeah, maybe."

"I don't get paid to listen to those kids, I just get a time and a place to do so. This isn't different. It's just talking and a lot of that is just figuring things out. Listening is easy, you're doing the hard part."

"Jeez, you come up with this stuff on your own or is there some sort of how-to book?"

You lifted your chin and sucked in your lip. You could tell where Jacob got the bite from.

"Sorry, that was… mean," he said after the silence settled with the dirt, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you said.

"You got somewhere to be?"

"No…" you answered cautiously.

"Do you think you might wanna listen to me a little more? I'll buy you a coffee for the trouble."

"You wanna talk? To me?"

"Better than anyone I do know," he snorted, "they all just give me that dumb look. They pity me, judge me. You don't have to say yes but I started now, if I stop, I'll...stop."

"Coffee?" You glanced over at him, "I'd rather tea."

"I'm sure they got that too," he fiddled with the trim of his pocket, "anytime you wanna bail, let me know."

"If I can handle teen angst, I think I can handle you."

🖤

That afternoon wasted away in the corner of a café. It felt like any other day but for Andy, you knew, it was likely the worst day of his life. Likely a day he wouldn’t forget. You sat patiently until the last of your tea was cold. He didn’t finish his coffee, he hardly even touched it. When you checked the time, he looked down embarrassed.

“It’s late,” he said, “I… I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”

“I didn’t have anything to do. I doubt you did either,” you swept up the paper cup and your purse.

“No, really, I mean, you don’t know me. You knew Jacob and I just sat here and talked your ear off for hours. I--” he looked out the window, “I know that when I go home, the house will still be empty. That’s why I’m here.”

You looked past him as he turned back. You chewed your lip, “Andy, have you looked into counseling yet?”

“It feels… too early for that.”

“Too early?”

“I don’t want to let it go. Don’t want to let them go,” he sucked his hands in his pockets, “if I go, that’s what they’ll tell me to do.”

“No, they’d help you live with it, not forget it,” you said, “but I know, it’s scary. Have you done anything? Read anything?”

“Read?”

“Self-help isn’t for everyone and those dummy books aren’t great I admit, but sometimes a start is better than nothing. What about… a routine? Do you have one?”

“I work, I come home, I sleep, and try not to notice they’re gone,” he shrugged, “and repeat. Lot of overtime.”

“You’re still working?” you went to the door and he followed.

“Well, I talked to you. That’s what I’m going to do about it.”

You stepped out into the evening din and spun to look at him. You crossed your arms and stood across from him on the pavement.

“Well, unfortunately there’s an age limit down at the centre,” you said, “but I could give you a number for an adult group.”

“No, I don’t wanna talk to a group of sad parents and widowers. Just remind me how pathetic I really am,” he scoffed.

“Do you think that what you’re doing right now is better?”

“Do you have a degree in this?” he wondered, “what are you doing down at that youth centre talking to degenerates?”

“I have a certificate that says I’m good at listening, but no, I couldn’t afford a degree,” you dropped your arms, “but, will you come down? Sit in on a session. Just listen… for Jacob? It helped him, I think, after a while?”

“With the kids?”

“Yeah, with the kids,” you said, “maybe it will help you decide.”

“Decide what?”

“If you’re going to keep doing what you're doing; nothing, or if you’re going to try. Trust me, after a while, just sitting there, ignoring it, it gets old and it won’t get better.”

He looked down and stared at his leather shoe as he ground his toe into the pavement, “is that allowed? Am I allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not. I have parents sit in all the time.”

“But I’m not-- not anymore,” he gulped.

“You are,” you patted his arm gently, “you always will be.”

“What time?” he raised his head.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays at four-thirty. We do accept late arrivals. Kids come in and out. Usually hang out til seven before I let them go.”

“I think I can make that work,” he exhaled deeply, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For putting up with me.”

You nodded and gave a bittersweet smile, “I miss Jacob too. I might be little more than a glorified babysitter but it means something to me. The kids… they feel like they’re mine sometimes. At least on those two nights a week.”

“Well…” he peered down the street, “you need a ride?”

You chuckled quietly, “you now, I think this time, I do.”

🖤

Andy was early. He took a chair near the wall as the kids flopped on the low sofas and into the colourful armchairs. A government grant had seen an upgrade in the lounge, although the kitchen needed some work as the cooking classes were still short on supplies. Dark circles darkened his eyes and the hairline wrinkles around them added to the hollow effect. He wasn’t sleeping.

You waited for the room to quiet. You greeted the kids and went through the usual ice breaker; one bad thing, one good thing, and one way they could improve the bad. Many of them were reluctant at first, they resisted what they thought were cheesy and inane exercises but they all came around. They were able to voice things that otherwise would be kept to themselves and they were afforded a respectful and often rapt audience.

When you finished, you kept from naming your own three. You looked at Andy.

“I’m sorry, everyone, I’m so forgetful. This is Andy,” you gestured to him, “he’s sitting in with us today. Andy, why don’t you tell us your bad thing, your good thing, and one thing you can do to improve the bad.”

He looked startled but he stood and cleared his throat. He glanced around at the kids and the shadow left his face. “Well, I lost a file, there were free bagels at work, and… I guess I could try to look again tomorrow.”

“Very good,” you smiled, “alright, my turn at last. My bad thing is I spilled tea on my shirt, my good thing is it’s a dark shirt, and my thing to improve is… wear a bib.” You laughed as you audience stay stone faced, “alright, alright, I’ll just be more careful and not run with hot liquids.”

You sat and started with Danica. She was always the most talkative, that encouraged the other kids. Today was no exception and you had to remind her to save some time for everyone else. Erik was next, then Andre, and Shamea. You almost didn’t notice Andy as he stood and sidled against the wall. Not until he was at the door, he looked back darkly and you saw his chest fall heavily. His nostrils flared and he was gone.

You tried not to show your disappointment, tried not to let the kids notice. They were all caught up in the circle and breaking it was never good. Shamea passed the stuffed bunny to Naima and you focused on her. Maybe it was too soon for Andy, you understood that, but you hoped too that he might have found a piece of Jacob there.

Before the kids left, you handed out the coloured markers and they each scribbled down a few words before a high-five. They passed through the open door in pairs and singles, and you bent to add your own note. You tucked the card into your bag and locked up. Jacob was usually the only one to hang around. Not anymore.

You headed out the front door with a wave to Martha at the front desk and took a gulp of the fresh evening air. There was someone sat on the flat stone at the bottom of the broad rail of the stairs. You recognised Andy as you neared, much too big to be a teen.

“I’m sorry,” he dabbed his nose with his sleeve, “I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay in that room.”

“But you’re still here,” you said.

“I didn’t wanna just leave you hanging but… they all remind me of him,” he stood, “I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies,” you opened your purse and searched, “I had the kids put this together. Actually, it was Milo’s idea. He didn’t know it was you but he wanted to send it in the mail--”

“What?” he took the card and opened it. He turned so he could read it in the yellow light of the street lamp, “oh my god.”

“Is it too much?”

“No, no,” he ran his thumb over the ink, “it’s…” he closed it and tucked it into his jacket, “the only other thing I’ve got is the bill for the caskets. It’s… amazing. Thank you.”

“Not at all. They always surprise me,” you said, “most of the time, in good ways.”

“You need a ride?” he checked his watch.

“I don’t live far,” you waved him off, “but I always appreciate the offer.”

He nodded and frowned, “and if… if I didn’t want to be alone? Would you grab a burger with me? Have you eaten?”

“Not since lunch, I, uh… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you said.

“You gotta be up early?”

“Nah, not too early.”

“What do you do? I mean, outside of this?” he turned and directed you to his car.

“Data entry,” you sighed, “it’s not very exciting but I work remotely and the pay is decent and I still have time for the kids.”

“It’s a living,” he said as the door locks clicked and you grabbed the handle, “no judgment. Trust me, being a lawyer, it’s really not as glamourous as it seems.”

🖤

Andy’s routine changed. He came around every Thursday and listened. After a few weeks, the kids figured out who he was. They didn’t treat him any differently and even invited him to join in on the teambuilding games you arranged. He wasn’t bad help as you welcomed a few new members from the group home.

That night, you weren’t feeling great. Even the kids hadn’t helped much. You were exhausted and nauseous. You blamed it on the late night shawarma. You said goodbye to the kids and packed up. Andy stacked the chairs without you asking, even when you told him not to.

You leaned heavily on the table and checked your phone before slipping it into your bag. You wiped your forehead and shivered. Some gravol, ginger ale, and sleep would be your indulgence that night.

“You okay?” Andy asked.

“Stomach thing,” you rubbed your middle, “nothing major.”

“You don’t look great,” he said, “well, I don’t mean it like-- are you sure--”

“Oh, gee,” you slid past him and out the door.

You ran to the restroom across the hall and into a stall. You wretched and the acid seared your throat. The bile bubbled in the toilet water and you shuddered. You heaved a few more times and rinsed your mouth in the sink.

Andy was waiting for you in the hall, “let me drive you tonight,” he insisted, “even if it’s just a block away.”

“I can’t even say no,” you grumbled as he handed you your purse.

“What’s wrong? You eat something?”

“I think,” you groaned as he held the door open and the cool air outside chilled the sweat on your neck, “urgh, I hope it’s only that.”

You got to his car and fell heavily into the seat. You slumped against the console as he started the car. He paused as the engine idled and felt your forehead. He nudged you back against the seat and turned his hand to press the back of his fingers to your cheek.

“You got a fever,” he said, “I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”

“Oh, those kids carry bugs like rats,” you muttered, “just take me home, I’ll get over it.”

He pulled out of his spot and you closed your eyes. You leaned against the window, frigid against your forehead and hugged yourself. You dozed off before he even turned out of the lot, the belt keeping you from folding over entirely.

🖤

You woke up between fresh linen. The sunlight was soft in its early hues. It wasn't your bed. You rolled onto your side and your stomach ached from how empty it was. You pushed back the thick duvet, you were sweating. You didn't remember more than the car ride and a few fuzzy glimpses of the bottom of a bucket.

You were cold again and pulled the blanket back. The door was open and Andy filled it as if he'd heard your grumbles. He stood at the bottom of the bed in a pair of plaid pants and a blue tee.

"Why am I here?" You asked.

"You fell asleep. You're sick. I couldn't just leave you outside your building," he said, "how are you feeling?"

"Bad," you replied curtly, "I can go," you sat up, "stop by the pharmacy, go hide in my own bed."

"You should stay here," he insisted, "just until the fever breaks."

"Really… ugh," you moaned as your belly clenched, "Andy, I should--"

"Lay down?" He came around and caught your shoulder, "I used to call in sometimes when Jacob was home sick. When he was a lot younger and… I stir up a man cup of noodles."

"You don't have to--"

"It's completely selfish," he interrupted, "it's been a long time since I had someone to take care of or at least it feels like it."

You were light-headed as you tried to stand but he kept you from getting to your feet, "I guess I can stay a little longer."

"Don't act like I don't owe you," he tutted, "now relax. I'll get you some soup. You need something in your system. I got some anti-nausea pills in the cupboard, too."

"Thanks but you don't owe me anything. I'm gonna owe you big."

"Why don't we just call it even then," he backed up, "seeing as that's my bed and my couch, it's really not made for sleeping." He stretched his arms and his shoulders cracked, "especially at my age."

🖤

You stayed another night. You tried to convince Andy to let you take the couch instead but he was a lawyer and rarely lost an argument. It was easier to eat by the evening but you were still dizzy and you couldn't stop yawning. You'd never been so tired.

Despite your uneasiness at overstaying your welcome, you slept more heavily than before. Your guilt didn't keep you awake for long as you sank into a deep sleep and you woke slowly, a murmur escaping your lips as grogginess weighed you down. You were still so very tired but it was already morning.

You stretched and your wrist caught. You winced and tugged at your arm. You sat up in horror as you stared at the metal cuff attached to the hoop drilled into the headboard. You tugged until your arm hurt and your hand throbbed. What the fuck.

"Andy! Andy! What--"

"Shhhhh," Andy hushed you as he entered, "it's okay, you're okay."

"No, I'm not. What did you do?" You pulled again and the metal pinched your skin.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he said calmly.

"Unlock it. Let me go," you struggled as you kicked off the blankets, "Andy, what the fuck?"

"Hey, don't talk like that. It's...nasty."

"I don't understand," you began to pant, "why are you doing this?"

The panic crawled like tendrils up your neck and back. You twisted and pulled but the metal cuff didn't budge. You felt the bed shift and Andy grabbed your shoulder. He forced you down, pinning your other hand beside your head.

"I'm taking care of you," he said, "don't be so ungrateful."

"I can take care of myself. Let me go, please."

"No, you need me," he snarled, "like I need you."

"Andy, you're wrong--"

"Stop!" He covered your mouth, "stop! You don't know what you need. Now be still. Be quiet." He squeezed until your jaw hurt, "don't make this difficult."

He slowly lifted his hand and you didn’t move. You stared at his hand then looked at his face. There was a desperate anger in the depths of his oceanic eyes. He sat back and his jaw clenched as he watched you.

"I'm going to make breakfast. Be good. You need to eat." He backed off the bed and went to the door, "I mean it."

He left you and you listened until pans clinked and clanged in the kitchen below. You folded your thumb against your palm and tried to wiggle free of the cuff. It was too tight. There was only one other way out and you couldn't do it alone.

"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE!" You screamed, "someone help me!"

The footsteps hammered up the stairs and Andy stormed in. He grabbed you and clamped his hand over your mouth again.

"Listen, no one can hear you, you got that? Windows are soundproof, but I really don't want to hear it so it's up to you if I gag you."

You blinked and your lip trembled against his hand. Your eyes rounded and you nodded stiffly. He tore his hand away and sighed as he clapped his hands on his legs in frustration.

"Good," he said quietly, "now, let's just hope," he stood and strode to the door, "that the bacon didn't burn."

🖤

You fell asleep again shortly after eating, even with the adrenaline and panic surging through your veins. You woke again in the afternoon. Your limbs were heavy but the fever was gone and your stomach felt better but you were still terribly tired.

Andy was there. He had a leather file in his lap as he looked over papers and scratched his beard. He sensed your movement and looked over at you.

"Hungry?" He asked, "you slept through lunch."

"No," you smelled your sweat on the duvet, "but… can I have a shower? I haven't...since I got here."

"A shower?" He closed the folder and stood. He set it down and pursed his lips as he thought. "Fifteen minutes," he said as he dug around in his pocket, "I'll be here."

He unlocked the cuff and you rubbed your wrist as you sat up. He stayed close as you rose and stayed between you and the bedroom door as he pointed you to the bathroom.

"I don't have much for you to wear yet but you can take another one of my shirts," he said.

You nodded and closed the door between you. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself to the wind. How was this the same man that you spoke to that day at the cemetery?

🖤

He slept beside you that night. You were on your side, your arm bound again by the cuff with the pillow between it and your head. You were uncomfortable, more so with him against your back. He wore only a pair of boxers. You shied away when he undressed and never looked at him again.

You dozed despite your nerves. You couldn't shake the drowsiness. You just felt more and more tired. When you opened your eyes, his arm was around you. He ran his fingers over your stomach, fingers crawling beneath the baggy tee shirt. You shivered and he nuzzled the back of your neck.

"I was thinking… well, I've been thinking for a while now, how happy we could be," he said, "I'm still young enough to try again, do it right and you… you're young, ready." His hand brushed up to your chest and he cupped your tit, "you're kind, you're caring, you're...beautiful. You’re my second chance."

“Andy,” your voice was brittle as your pulse beat furiously, “what you’re doing, it’s not right. You need to let me go.”

He went rigid and his hand stopped. He unsnaked his arm from around you and the springs coiled as he fell heavily onto his back. In the silence, you could only hear his steady breaths and a low growl.

“No, I’m helping you,” he said, “like you’ve helped me.”

“Andy, please,” you eased onto your back and looked over at him, “this isn’t how you fix this.”

“How do I?” he snarled, “huh? How? You don’t know!” he sat up and glared down at you, “you can’t know.”

“You think hurting me is helping me? That’s what you’re doing.”

“No, no, no,” he bent his legs as he grasped his head and gripped it as if it would crack, “No! I haven’t hurt you. I feed you, I keep you clean, I… I take care of you!”

“Andy,” you reached over shakily and touched his bare shoulder, “this isn’t what I want and I know you don’t want it either. You want someone who really loves you--”

“You love me!” he turned so quickly you yelped. He gripped your jaw tightly as he held himself against you, “you love me,” he pressed his lips to yours and you murmured in surprise, “you love me,” it was a maddened chant as he pulled back, “...love me.”

“And--”

His hand flew up to smother you and he lifted himself over you. His knees pressed to your legs until they parted and his other hand explored your curves through the rumpled cotton. You squeaked and tensed against his touch, your wrist chafing from the cuff.

“Shhh,” he hushed as he pushed the shirt up.

He kept his hand on your mouth as he slid down your body and left a trail of kisses along your torso as he unveiled it. He bunched the tee above your chest and bent to dote on your tits. You shuddered and pushed on his head as you mumbled into his palm.

His fingers tickled along your side and hooked into the side of the drawstring shorts he gave you. He tugged until the string snapped and edged them down as he continued to tend to your chest. You kicked around him and felt his bulge as he leaned into you.

He ripped his hand away and sat up. He grabbed the waist of the shorts and wrenched them down your legs, quickly taking his between them again. You wriggled and batted out at his chest as his thumbs pressed against your hip bones and his hands crept down to knead your thighs.

“I can start again,” he brushed his fingers down your vee and you trembled as they danced along your cunt.

“No, Andy, please, you can still stop--”

“Shhhh, honey,” he pushed between your folds and you gasped, “it’s okay. I’ll still take care of you,” he glided over your cunt and made you twitch, “and the baby.”

He poked along your entrance and you whined helplessly as you reached to the cuff and pulled with both arms. Every muscles in your strained as you tried to break free of the headboard. He pushed a finger inside of you and you cried out.

“Andy, stop, please, no--”

He added another finger and slipped them in and out of you as he purred. You looked at his face and it sent a chill through you. His eyes were dark and clung to the movement of his hand, his brow set and his jaw squared with his intent. He wasn’t the grieving widower, he wasn’t the man lost and lonely, he was a monster.

“That’s it,” he turned his hand and flicked your clit with his thumb, “you want me. I feel it.”

You looked away as your wetness spread to his knuckles and along your folds. He kept his thumb moved as he curled his fingers inside of you and the pressure built as the tip of his touch. You gritted your teeth and shook your head helplessly.

“No,” you whispered, “no, no, no…”

He took his hand away suddenly and you felt empty. He lifted himself on his knees and rolled down his boxers. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t, you only saw the silhouette of his nudity.

He pushed your thighs apart and spread himself over you, his elbow just beside you as he felt around between your bodies. His hot breath grazed your cheek and he kissed it firmly as he angled his tip between your folds. Your thighs clenched around him in a futile act of resistance as he found your entrance.

He pushed inside slowly and brought his other arm up beside you. He forced your head straight and you squeezed your eyes shut. He cradled your head between his hands and his lips brushed yours as he spoke, “open your eyes. Look at me.”

“Andy,” you murmured as he slowly got deeper, “please--”

“Look at me,” he demanded, “look at me!”

Your eyes snapped open and met his stormy blue ones. He bucked his hips and impaled you completely. You exclaimed and grasped his thick bicep in shock, your other hand balled above the cuff. Your legs bent around his thick thighs as you tried to stop him.

“God, you feel so good,” he purred as he began to rock, “don’t I feel good too?”

Your lashes fluttered away the rising tears and you sucked your lip in to keep from making a sound. You could look away as he held your head straight, his hand clamping around your jaw as he other arm bent beneath yours.

The room echoed with the noise of his flesh slapping yours as he sped up, his grunts and groans interlaced with the sickening symphony. You quivered as his pelvis rubbed against yours and stoked the heat in your core. You could not hold back the illicit response of your body as he ravaged it.

Your breath grew heavier and he gulped it down as he kissed you again, forcing his tongue between your lips as he devoured you. The whole bed moved in time with your body and the headboard knocked against the wall as his thrusts came closer and closer together and he buried himself as deep as he could with each tilt of his hips.

He drew his mouth away and pressed his cheek to yours as his muscles tensed and he puffed into the pillow, “this is it, honey. It all starts here.”

“Ah, please…” your voice fizzled and smothered your moan against his shoulder as your body spasmed. Your legs bent around him firmly as you orgasmed and your body arched beneath his desperately.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s it. You take me so well. See… it was meant to… be.”

His breaths grew more rampant with his rhythm. His hand slipped down to cradle your cheek and his thumb stroked your flesh tenderly as he dipped into you over and over. His deep groans grew louder around you. He jerked into you sharply and his motion stuttered. He gripped your hip and held you down as he sheathed himself in your walls.

He quaked as his hips slowed and he flooded you. He exhaled and as his lungs emptied, the strength left him entirely and he lowered himself over you weakly. His body pressed yours into the mattress, your sweat and his turned sticky as the air settled over you.

He stayed like that for what felt like forever. He moved slowly to lift himself up and he sat back, watching his dick slide out of you. Your thighs shook as your legs splayed around him. You felt his cum leak from you and he dragged his fingers along your cunt and scooped it back into you, coating his fingers in as he pushed them past your entrance once more. He smiled at the wet sounds of your cunt.

“That felt like the one,” he said, “but we can try again...”

He pulled his fingers out of you and admired the slickness that glistened over them. He reached down and gripped his dick, half-soft and spent. He winced as he began to stroke himself and let out stifled moans between his teeth.

“Maybe this time,” he purred as he angled himself inside of you again and lifted your legs against his torso. He bit his lips as he trembled, his cock oversensitive and overworked, “as many times as it takes, honey.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #one shot #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob

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narutogwriting · 3 years

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hii, could you do a naruto x reader fic the day/evening before naruto becomes hokage n he and the reader are discussing their future , if they want kids, if they will get married and reminiscing about the past ( maybe about how they met or significant moments ) and he confides in her that maybe he’s a lil nervous n it’s just cavity inducing fluff ,,, sorry if that was a little long but thank you! <3

Hey did you take this prompt straight out of my heart?<3 This may need a part 2...

Long Live

Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Reader

CW: fluff

Length: 2.9k+

Inspired by “Long Live” by Taylor Swift because that song always makes me think of Naruto 🥺

Why is he so pretty

His whole life had led up to this. He’d spent years alone and isolated and hurting. Years being left in the background, unseen, forgotten. All Naruto had ever wanted in life was to gain the acknowledgment of his village.

And now he had it.

In just a few hours, by this time tomorrow, Naruto would officially become Hokage. Everything he’d ever worked for was finally coming to fruition.

Naruto was sitting on the Hokage heads, the same stones that he’d spent years vandalizing as a child, just wanting someone to notice him. Specifically, he was sitting on the formation of his father’s head, a small smile on his face. He’d always said that he was going to become better than the fourth hokage… He wasn’t sure if he could ever surpass his dad. But at the very least, he would do his best to make him proud.

The Sun was beginning to set over the leaf village, casting a brilliant orange glow over the town he loved so much. It was a powerful, flawed village that had done a fantastic amount of good and created imaginable pain. It’d taken Naruto years to understand it, that nothing was black and white, that things can be good and bad, and that you can love something, but still want to change and improve it.

The Leaf Village had simultaneously been a place that had broken him and the place where he had become healed. Now that Naruto was a little older, a little wiser, he understood that things had to change, and that’s what Naruto would do.

He would become the change, lead the village into a new era. One of healing and restoration. Not only would Konoha change its way, Naruto was going to do his damndest to right all of its wrongs.

Finally, just before dark, Naruto got up and decided to head back home. He couldn’t imagine that he would be getting much sleep tonight; he was too excited, too nervous. Of course he’d always believed that he would become Hokage, but now that it was happening… It was almost too much for him to handle.

He expected you to maybe already be in bed by the time he got home. It wasn’t super late, but you were just getting back from a mission that day, so he was sure you’d be exhausted.

He opened the front door slowly, quietly, not wanting to wake you.

He was surprised to find you not only awake, but waiting for him with a big smile. You looked so beautiful, he thought, in the tight red dress you were wearing. The lights were dim, the living room and kitchen only lit by candle light.

Blinking in confusion, Naruto looked at you as you came to give him a big hug. “Hi, I missed you…” Naruto said, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into him. He placed a kiss on your head, getting a whiff of his favorite perfume that you had.

Just over your head, he could see the table set with a pretty red table cloth, flowers, romantic candles, and the unmistakable aroma of your homemade ramen.

“I missed you so much,” You told him, pulling away just enough to press up on your tiptoes and give him a kiss. “I’ve been waiting for you. Were you at Hokage Rock?” You questioned. You knew him way too well.

He gave you a sheepish grin. “I was,” He told you. “Just taking it all in, ya know? Before…” He trailed off. He couldn’t even speak the words; it would make it all too real and then he was sure he’d implode.

Instead, he nodded to the set up in the kitchen before pulling away from the hug. He took your hand, pulling back so he could check you out properly, giving you a little twirl as you giggled. “What’s the occasion?” He asked you, causing you to stare up at him with a dumbfounded expression.

“What do you think, dummy!?” You asked him, playfully smacking his arm and making him laugh.

“I thought we were gonna celebrate tomorrow night?”

You shook your head, exasperated. “Yes, but that’s with our friends, Naruto. “Tonight, I wanted to celebrate, just you and me.” You explained to him, smiling up at him fondly. You reached up to touch his cheek gently. “I’m just so proud of you, you know? I wanted to do something special. I always knew you could do it.”

Naruto eyes began to tear up instantly as he grinned happily. He ran the back of his hand across his eyes. “Geez, you really know how to make a guy all choked up…”

You giggled. You were well accustomed to Naruto’s happy tears by this point. It never failed to make your heart well up, knowing that you could fill Naruto with such joy that he would cry tears of happiness.

His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you to him as he pressed his lips against yours softly. “I love you so much, you know? Believe it!”

“I do believe it,” You teased, kissing him one more time before taking his hand. “Cmon, before your food gets cold.” You told him, pulling him to the kitchen. “I made your favorite.”

The two of you made small talk while you ate your food. He asked about your mission, and you gave him the exciting details. He slurpped down the ramen hungrily; somehow you made it just as good as Ichiraku ramen, maybe even better. It was just one of the many things he loved about you.

When the two of you finished eating, you cleared the table, leaving the dishes in the sink.

“Cmon,” you said, leading Naruto to the living room.

You had more candles set up on the side tables, and in the middle of the floor, a blanket with lots of pillows for the two of you to lounge on, chocolate covered strawberries, two glasses of wine, and a present just for Naruto.

“How did I get so lucky?” Naruto asked quietly, staring down at you with love filled eyes. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, dipping his head down to place light, open mouth kisses against your neck. You tilted your head slightly, placing your hands over his arms.

“Sweet, thoughtful, a good cook.. Not to mention so gorgeous.” His hands began to trail over your body, starting at your waist and slipping slowly down your hips and thighs before moving back up.

You felt your stomach clenching in desire, always so responsive to his touch.

“Naruto,” you moaned softly. It took all of your willpower to pull away from him. “I have a nice night planned; stop trying to seduce me!” You scolded.

Naruto just gave you a cheeky smile. “I can’t help myself. Look at you…” He muttered.

You bit your lip, blushing as he followed you to sit down on the blanket. Naruto pulled you between his legs to rest your back against his chest as he peppered your cheeks with kisses, making you giggle and squirm in his arms.

Picking up a chocolate strawberry, you placed it in front of his lips. He took the fruit in his mouth, the juices spilling over his lips before you pulled you in for another sweet kiss.

It would have been easy to let that become the rest of your night with Naruto, getting lost in his arms, letting his lips trace over every part of your body, spending the night in ecstacy. And you wanted that. You really wanted that.

But tomorrow was going to be the best day of Naruto’s life. Honestly, it was probably going to be the best day of yours, too. You were giddy with pride and adoration; you could only imagine the way you would feel tomorrow, watching Naruto stand in front of the whole village, all eyes on him as that hokage cloak was finally, finally*, placed over his shoulders. The way the people were going to scream his name, look at him with reverence and admiration. It made you start to tear up just thinking about it. Naruto was going to be hokage. His life long dream would be his reality. You always knew it would be. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving to become the leader of the village.

“I got you something,” you told him, your head a little dizzy with the champagne you two had been drinking in between your kisses and giggles. You were so in love with this man.

“I thought I was going to unwrap you,” Naruto flirted, but you batted his hands away, pushing to your feet. You grabbed the present bag, specially chosen for the little foxes that littered the wrapping.

Walking back over, you sat cross legged in front of him, holding the bag in your lap.

“Naruto,” you said, giving him a silly smile. “Ever since the day I first met you, I’ve been in awe of you.” You told him. It was hard not to blush at the way that Naruto was gazing at you, those beautiful blue eyes glistening and intense. “From the way you carried yourself, to how hard you worked, to the way you changed people. Your heart is bigger than anyone I know. I wish so much that I would have met you sooner, so I could have been there for you, so you never would have had to be alone…”

You wiped at your eyes. The more you spoke, the wetter they became. “Whenever you tell me about the things you experienced when you were little, the way you grew up… It breaks my heart. I never want for you to feel sad or alone or abandoned like that… Never.” Scooting closer to him, you took his hands.

“I wish I would have known the little boy you were before you became the ninja I love. I wish I could hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay… Could you imagine if he could see you now?” You’re smiling and crying and Naruto is smiling and crying and you’re both such an emotional mess. Everything he’d gone through, all the pain he experienced, he’d do it all again if it meant he could be here.

Naruto kissed your knuckles as you worked to compose yourself. You never knew it was possible to feel so deeply before Naruto. He’d taught you to love the way he did, and you couldn’t thank him enough for that.

“It’s been the best thing of my life, watching you take on the world.” You told Naruto in earnest. “The greatest honor. I just… I love you so much, and I want you to know how proud I am of you… And I never want you to forget how far you’ve come so… here.”

You passed him the present, and he took it with shaking hands. How? How was this his life? How had he gone from being four years old, wandering the streets of Konoha without a friend in the world to becoming the leader of the village, with the most beautiful, caring, magnificent woman he could have imagined by his side?

He opened the gift slowly, so contrary to the way he may normally rip into a present with excitement and vigor. This, right now, this entire night, this moment. He wanted to savor it, remember it forever. He wished it never had to end.

Eventually, he pulled the gift from the bag slowly, he’s mouth dropping in awe at what it was.

It was his goggles, the one he used to wear on his forehead to pretend he was a ninja before he got his headband, framed.

In your pretty little script, you’d written:

Long live the mountains you moved,

I’ve had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.

Long live the look on your face,

And bring on all the pretenders.

One day, you will be remembered.

xoxo

Naruto was speechless; the gesture was so thoughtful it blew his mind. You believed in him. You really did. He thought about what you said, wished he could go back in time and tell himself that is was all going to be worth it. That one day, he’d never be alone, never feel that pain again. He would be happy beyond his wildest dreams. “This is… This is…” He looked up at you through blurry eyes. “I don’t know what to say… I thought I lost these.” He told you.

“I found them when we moved,” you explained to Naruto. “You hadn’t mentioned them, so I decided to save them to frame. For this moment.”

Naruto stared down at the goggles in his hands. “This is the best gift ever… Really. You don’t know how much this means to me. I’m going to put it in my office, look at it everyday…” His gaze trailed up to meet yours. “Until we have our first kid. Then I’m gonna give it to them.”

Your heart began to flutter, your lips trembling. “O-our first kid?” Naruto nodded, grinning at you.

“I think it’ll be a boy. And he can wear them just like I did, until he graduates the academy. He’ll make it the first time, unlike me. And even if he doesn’t, it’ll be okay. I’ll practice with him until he’s confident and strong enough to pass.”

Placing the frame aside, he pulled you to him, lifting you so you were straddling his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist as he rested his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in as he quivered just barely.

“What about after that?” You asked Naruto, wrapping your arms around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. “I want three boys, all mini yous. The older two will be crazy like you, loud and hyper and determined…”

“And the third will be like you,” Naruto finished. “He’ll be kind, gentle but fierce. And a kick ass ninja. And they’ll all get the goggles, so we have to space them out just enough. It’ll be a tradition!” You could see by the excitement in his eyes that he meant it. The two of you had talked about a future together before, of course. But not like this. This felt different. It was there now, just ahead of the two of you.

“We could start now…” Naruto teased, his hands once again trailing over your body as he grinded himself against you.

Feigning shocked, you gasped. “And have a child out of wedlock? How scandalous, Hokage-sama…” You joked, as if you could care less about doing things “traditionally.” You didn’t need traditional. It was you and Naruto forever; there was no doubt in your mind about it.

“Of course! Our first little guy is gonna be our ring bearer.” Naruto told you as if it was obvious. “Maybe even help me when I finally put the ring on your finger…” Naruto took your hand, lacing your fingers together as he examined the ring finger. “Gonna get you the biggest rock in the village. You’re gonna need sunglasses when you look at it, it’ll be so bright.”

He was ridiculous, this man you loved so much. “You know I don’t need that. Only you.”

Naruto smiled. “I know.”

You loved this, talking about your future. It was unfolding before you so vividly. “Tell me more,” you insisted, still playing with his hair. “How are you going to propose?”

Naruto laughed, shaking his head. “Nice try,” He teased. “That’s a surprise. But if you really want, I’ll tell you about our wedding…”

You, of course, nodded in earnest. “Tell me,” You practically begged, making him laugh and kiss you.

“It’s gonna be the biggest party of the year. Everyone’s gonna be there. We’ll pull out all the stops… Kakashi can officiate. Our little guy will carry the rings down the aisle… I’m gonna say vows that will make you cry…” You laughed, shaking your head.

“MY vows will make YOU cry,” you countered, and he just shushed you because he knew you were right.

“Anyways,” he laughed. “After the ceremony, we’ll have a huge reception. Music, food, dancing, games. Ninja games, and I’m gonna win them all, obviously, because I’m the hokage…” He grinned at you. “Everyone’s gonna be having the best time… But, when it’s in the full swing of things, everyone’s drunk and distracted, I’m gonna pull you away…”

To emphasize his point, he pulled you closer into him. A hand gripped in your hair as he pulled you into a deep kiss. “Cause I’m so in love. And somehow, that night, I’m gonna find even more* love for you, even though I can’t imagine my heart being able to handle all that…” He murmured against your lips.

“I’m gonna pull you away to have you all to myself. To admire you. To kiss you. To make love to you. It’s gonna be official. You’ll be all mine forever…”

And honestly? When Naruto said forever, it didn’t sound too bad. It sounded like an adventure, a never ending story. It would be a wild ride you never wanted to get off of.

Tomorrow, Naruto would become Hokage. He would achieve his dreams, and you would be right there by his side for it all.

But right now, there was just the two of you. Together, in love. Supporting each other through it all.

That much would never change.

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

Note

I loved your fic about witchers being afraid of moths so much. I suffer mottophobia as well and the thought that witchers feel the same is nice. So thank you!!!

Nonnie, I'm so pleased you liked that story! Phobias of any kind can be so stressful, I hope moths don't bother you all that often. While I don't have another phobia story for you, I have something a little different that I hope you enjoy.

CW: Panic attacks

It had taken Aiden several years before he broached the idea of wintering together. He knew Lambert went to Kaer Morhen each season and didn't want to be rude by inviting himself to the Wolves' den. But he also didn't want to make Lambert have to choose between seeing his family for the season and accompanying Aiden to the Caravan. Really, he need not have feared because as soon as he brought up the topic of winter, Lambert was jumping at the chance.

"Want to go to the Caravan?"

Just like that, they spent three years wintering with Cats. Lambert fit right in, helping with life on the road without a hitch, messing around, teaching tricks and learning new ones in equal measure. He cooked, did repairs and was as accepted into the Caravan as a stranger could be. It made Aiden wonder whether he missed the pack feel of his own family of Wolves.

"This year-" he said with some hesitance late one summer, "-why don't we go north? Kaer Morhen has probably missed its youngest Wolf."

If Lambert's expression was anything to go by, he didn't agree. "Does the Caravan not want me this year?"

"What?" Aiden scoffed at the notion. "No! I thought you knew they all dote on you. I just thought you might want to spend a season with your family. You met mine..." Not that he'd ever say it out loud but Aiden wanted to meet Lambert's family too, he didn't want to be a shameful secret.

The terse "fine" sounded anything but fine. However, Lambert refused to discuss it any further and, come winter, he led them north. By the time they got to the bottom of the mountain Lambert was tense, quiet and anything he said was cutting. It wasn't the Lambert Aiden knew at all. But he reasoned that maybe Lambert was nervous about bringing a Cat home. The higher up they got, the faster Lambert's heart beat. Perhaps it was the excitement of coming home after so long, at least that was what Aiden told himself. He figured once they were done with the dangerous path up to Kaer Morhen then Lambert would relax. He was wrong.

They made it into the warmth of the halls and what followed was the most uncomfortable introduction Aiden had ever endured. Lambert stopped, arms crossed over his chest as he regarded the other three.

"This is Aiden. You break him, I break your necks." With that, Lambert stomped out, bristling and grumbling under his breath. Hastily, Aiden followed after a quick wave that the three Witchers looking suitably non-plussed by it all.

What was strange was that Lambert didn't settle. He was a fountain of bitter remarks, sarcastic quips and brash aggression. Aiden couldn't make heads or tails of it. The others didn't react, didn't seem like they even wanted to try and calm the situation. In the end Aiden couldn't stand by anymore and cornered Eskel, demanding answers.

"What do you mean?" The thing was, Eskel genuinely seemed confused. "That's just Lambert for you. You've known him for years now, surely you're used to it."

But Aiden wasn't. He hadn't seen Lambert like that before, so on edge. "No," he replied in the end. "This isn't how I know him. His heart rate's high, he's callous, spikey, lashing out. That's not the Lambert I know."

The look Eskel gave him was one of strange reproach. "The mutagens didn't fully take with him, his heart's always been faster than a normal Witcher's. As for the rest, I don't know what swamp water you drink to block it out but that's Lambert in a nutshell."

It wasn't. Aiden knew Lambert, spent years listening to his steady heartbeat, relishing when they fell in sync most nights. He'd seen the kindness and patience Lambert had out on the Path and at the Caravan. There was no mocking for getting footwork wrong, no calling the other person an idiot with a scoff. Nor had Aiden ever seen Lambert pace before, a restless tracing of a path between window and door of the bedroom. The growled "don't touch me" sounded full of threat, so much like a dog trying to prove he could really hurt an opponent in an effort to stave off an actual fight. Seeing Lambert like that hurt and Aiden didn't know what had provoked the change.

Things got worse when they were making repairs to Kaer Morhen, trying to undo all the damage the sacking had done. With the parts they inhabited secure and warm, Vesemir directed their work to the dungeons, salvaging what they could. Smoke stained books and scrolls along with bottles that contained the dregs of potions were pulled from partially collapsed rooms. Lambert was exceptionally acerbic, sniping at everyone including Aiden. It was all ignored until he snapped at Vesemir, "so what's the plan here, old man? Going to open up the torture chambers again to get your rocks off?"

"Another word from you and you'll be running the Killer twice before each meal," Vesemir growled, grabbing another thick book covered in ash and rock debris.

Throwing his hands up, Lambert stormed off, muttering about how he'd rather run the Killer night and day than suffer this idiocy. Nobody seemed to care that his breath had hitched and heartrate was rocketing higher. Well, Aiden cared. Seeing as none of the others looked interested in following Lambert, he took it upon himself.

"Best to leave him," Eskel called after him. "He'll probably destroy a few training dummies in a fit of rage and then calm. Ignoring him leads to the fewest injuries for all."

Not that Aiden cared. He followed the sour scent that Lambert had been coated in all winter, maybe even before that. True to Eskel's prediction, he was in the training yard but he wasn't decimating dummies. Instead, Lambert was staring blankly off into the distance, muscles locked into a tense hunch.

"Lamb?"

His name seemed to jerk Lambert out of whatever thoughts he'd gotten lost in. Whirling, he rounded on Aiden with a snarl. Not rising to it, Aiden held a arm open and stepped closer, inviting Lambert into a cuddle. His heart broke a little when Lambert reared away, spitting with rage. "Don't touch me!"

Truthfully, Aiden didn't have to, he could see the solid lines of muscles, coiled tight. Everything about Lambert screamed to be left alone but he couldn't, not when there was something so underlyingly wrong. If Aiden didn't know any better, he'd have said that anyone else behaving like Lambert was having a silent panic attack. Maybe Aiden didn't know any better. He'd rarely heard Lambert speak of Kaer Morhen or the others, and when it did it wasn't with fondness. Around them was destruction, every stone imbued with memories of a hard life. Aiden knew that the instructors were harsh, often punishing Lambert with a cane or deprivation as he grew up. Vesemir had been one of those men and Lambert had to face his tormentor on a daily basis. They'd been digging up the dungeon where the trials had been administered, pulling what they could on how to recreate the them. Each crumbling wall was another layer of memories of the sacking, of a life Lambert hated but had no idea how to leave behind. When the misery was the only thing he knew, the only steady thing in his life, it was easier to cling to it rather than embrace the terror of the unknow.

Keeping his distance, Aiden nodded. "It's okay." It wasn't but he had no idea what else to say. They were going to have to get through winter, it was too late to head down the mountain. But as soon as it was safe, Aiden was whisking Lambert away from it. He wasn't letting him face the traumas of his past again and again. It wasn't healthy to rip open those wounds, to come face to face with living memories each time he saw Vesemir and Kaer Morhen.

When Aiden stepped in again, Lambert didn't scuttle away. Instead, he was stiff as a board in Aiden's arms, quivering with pent up emotions. Slowly, Aiden rubbed his back, tried to urge him to relax into his hold. Ever so gradually Lambert did, letting Aiden take a fair chunk of his weight as the shaking got more pronounced. Without a word, Aiden held him, gave him the quiet and the space to finally fall apart. It made him wonder whether, in years gone by, Lambert would allow himself to break apart each night in the privacy of his room. Now, with Aiden there, had he been trying to hold it all together, no space safe enough to let his emotions out? Shuddering at the thought, Aiden held Lambert tighter. Come next year, they were going to spend winter with the Caravan again. Never again was Lambert going to have to face the haunting wraiths of his past. Not if Aiden could help it.

#lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert #aiden #the witcher #cw: panic attacks #tldr: lambert has silent panic attacks at kaer morhen

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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

Text

restaurant owner!osamu + taking care of his pregnant wife

oh boy this is going to be a whole series now hahaahha. i didn’t think y’all would like my pregnancy hc’s this much but i’m glad you keep requesting for it and i hope you enjoy this osamu version !

let’s start this one off again with how you guys met because it’s all very cute and uwu

you were a college student also working as a waitress to pay off your bills and after being interviewed by bosses who wanted you to have 5+ years of experience, you landed a job at the new Onigiri Miya restaurant

osamu hired you in the spot and you were like ‘oh, but,,, why?’ and he’s like ‘,,,,cause nobody else signed up’

Onigiri Miya actually started out with a few people on their staff so must of the time it would be you and osamu just there hanging out and also serving customers

osamu found you quite fun to talk to and you worked really well. since he also knew you were a Struggling College Student, he wouldn’t hesitate to give you a raise

sometimes he’d even pack you some onigiri for dinner with the leftover rice

after a while, the two of you started to have feelings for each other. i don’t see osamu as the type to hesitate with this so he straight-up asked you out on a date

he actually invites you to his house and cooks a really nice meal for you and puts on a movie. dates with osamu are generally quite chill but once in a while the two of you like to plan for something more exciting

your favorite date so far was when you decided to randomly go on a road trip and pack convenience store snacks and sleep in a motel

but then in the motel tHeRE wAs ONlY OnE BeD and y’all know what happens there’s only one bed

a few weeks after that, you noticed that your period was late and you were desperately hoping it wasn’t what you thought it was going to be so you took a pregnancy test and there it was

you had no idea what to do. you were still in university and didn’t really have a solid job other than being a waitress at Onigiri Miya but part of you also wanted to have the baby

you were also scared of telling osamu because you were afraid he might leave you if he knew

osamu noticed that you were acting different around him and was genuinely bothered by it so he sat you down and asked what was up and you had no choice but to tell him

you were almost crying as you told him that you were pregnant but to your surprise, osamu just held your hand and said ‘i’m with you no matter what you choose. even if you decide to keep it’

now here’s a man who knows how to take some responsibility

you knew right then and there that you were going to marry him someday

but FIRST: baby

so you two decide to go through with the pregnancy and because he knew you were going to need all the help you could get, osamu invited you to move in with him

it was tough for you having to juggle your studies and being pregnant so you ended up quitting your job at Onigiri Miya (not that osamu minded cause at this point the restaurant was really taking off)

you’re constantly tired because of this and more than once, osamu would come home to you with you passed out on top of your textbooks but he’s more than happy to carry you to bed

sometimes he’ll even pick you up after your class to carry your stuff because you usually have to go down several flights of stairs

after getting pregnant, you’d get some Looks from your classmates and professors so it made you a bit insecure but when they saw WHO helped out with the babymaking they kind of shut up now

yeah you got yourself a Hunk Who Can Cook

i feel like osamu would really make an effort to cook something nutritious for you because diet is everything so he’ll be genuinely disappointed to come home to you having eaten two cans of pringles

osamu: there’s no nutritional value in that

you: but i wANT

he eventually relents after you explain the concept of pregnancy cravings

also did i mention that osamu probably didn’t tell atsumu about this so one day his twin brother comes over to find you, a pregnant woman living there

you didn’t know he had a twin either so you guys are kind of like pointing at each other in shock

osamu has a whole lot of explaining to do

atsumu is surprisingly thrilled by the idea of becoming an uncle and before you know it, he’s already sending you and osamu gifts for the baby

you and osamu are young so you’re both quite clueless when it comes to holding a baby shower or even setting up a nursery

osamu was probably just like ‘can’t the baby sleep on a bed?’ and you have to explain why cribs are a Thing

he probably picks up more than a couple of those ‘how to be a parent for dummies and you’ll find him intently reading them in bed

sometimes you wonder though if osamu really wants to have this baby or if he just feels obligated to because he doesn’t outwardly show his enthusiasm all the time

that is, when you are in the doctor’s office for your scheduled ultrasound and you’re able to get a picture of how your baby will look like

you watch osamu looking at the picture with something shining in his eyes and the softest of smiles on his face and he just looks at you and goes ‘i hope they have your eyes’

you start crying right there because EMOTIONS and wow, you’re so lucky that osamu is going to be the father

your due date was actually dangerously close to your college graduation and while you were happy to receive your diploma and walk onstage with osamu cheering for you, you were also praying that you wouldn’t go into labor right then and there

thankfully, you didn’t

you took the time to rest at home after your graduation. most of the time you’d be working on the new nursery in your house or visiting the restaurant (even though osamu tells you to go home and rest)

osamu does love coming home to you and lying down beside you on the couch with his hand rubbing your belly. sometimes he’ll try to do knock-knock jokes with your baby because he’s like that

he was probs in the middle of a knock-knock joke when you felt your first contraction. you gripped his buff arm tight and looked at him and shock and osamu just flew out of the couch to grab your stuff

when the two of you entered the hospital osamu was a bit panicked so he was just yelling ‘HELLO MY WIFE IS PREGNANT PLEASE HELP’

you: WAIT YOU CALLED ME ‘WIFE’

osamu: aren’t you basically my wife at this point?

just when you are about to cry again a nurse appears to take you to the emergency room

and osamu just yells ‘I’LL ASK YOU TO MARRY ME AFTER, OKAY?’

legit, while you’re in labor he goes out to buy a ring because osamu’s just the kind of guy who goes through with everything he says

it doesn’t seem like it but he’s very nervous for you and the baby. he’ll probably be reading a magazine to calm down and when the nurse calls him he accidentally rips in two

thankfully, you’re okay and osamu just wants to see you immediately

when he sees you asleep on the hospital bed, all tired out from your labor, he just smiles and presses a kiss on your forehead

osamu will wait for you to wake up before seeing your child because he wants to experience it as a couple

a smile just breaks across his face when the nurse brings your baby in. he actually asks to hold them first and you’re surprised but you smile and let him

osamu doing baby talk and looking super excited and proud when he sees your new baby that is awwwwww right there

he’ll hand you your baby and then bring the ring he bought (yeah, you’re also pretty surprised) and officially propose to you

osamu is so proud of his own little family and he can’t wait to start a new part of his life with you two

***********************************************

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love @tpwkatsumu @waitforitillwritemywayout @kattykurr

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

the end is where we start from

What we call the beginning is often the end / And to make an end is to make a beginning / The end is where we start from. ~ T.S. Elliot, Little Giddings

Danny was running, he didn’t know where to all he knew was who he was running from. He didn’t know if his parents were even coming after him, guns blazing and mouths sneering but he didn’t dare turn around to look. Maybe they weren’t even going to bother chasing him, maybe they were just happy the ghostly scum was out of their house.

He saw the entrance to Amity’s deepest woods and he darted for it. It was dark and thick and easy to lose yourself in so people usually thought twice before they entered. But people like Danny had little else to lose. The sting of branches swiping at him before he could turn intangible, giant, gnarling roots tripping him up before he could float over him. But he didn’t dare slow down because that would mean acknowledging what had happened.

Another missed curfew, another argument where he and his parents talked about but around each other. Another ghost showing up just as he got dressed for bed, another transformation to take care of it before he could get some sleep. Only the same old script flipped on itself when Mom opened the door, bringing in some tea as an apology for her harsh words just into time to see her son become a ghost. Her gun was drawn before the cup hit the floor and shattered, along with Danny’s heart.

Deep in the thicket of the woods, his human lungs burned and his living muscles ached but he couldn’t turn into Phantom now. Not when it was the stupid ghost’s fault he wasn’t welcome in his own home anymore.

‘What are you doing with my son, ghost?’

‘Mom, please it’s Danny I can explain, please would you just listen?’

‘You can’t be alive and dead at the same time! It’s impossible!’ Oh god my baby died and I didn’t even notice’

‘Mom, Dad, listen to Danny, he’s telling the truth. This is why he never-’

‘Jasmine, you’ve been deceived that’s what ghosts do! That’s what Phantom in particular is known for!’

“Jazzy, Danno, I want to believe you, but it’s a lot to take in. Let us run some tests to make sure.’

‘Danny! Danny wait! Come back!’

Eventually his human body ran out of steam, adrenaline and desperation can only take a person so far. His speeding gait slowed to a lopping jog before settling into a quiet, miserable walk. He squeezed his eyes shut and dared to look over his shoulder but, of course, no one was there. It was just him, the darkness and his own woes.

“What am I going to do now?” He asked quietly, weakly as he fought back panicked tears. All he could see was his mother’s angry, grieving face. His father’s confusion as he tried to make sense of it all while trying to keep the peace. Jazz’s frustration and futile attempts to shield Danny from the worst of the shouting.

He had nothing on his person, why would he? He’d been about ready to go to bed when his whole world came crashing down. His worn Star Wars t-shirt and sweatpants offered little protection from the gloomy October weather but Danny’s ice core more than protected him from the chill. He welcomed it if anything, it matched the ice growing in his heart. No money to escape with, no phone to call for help, no tools to contain any ghosts he battled. He hadn’t even had dinner last night, too busy fighting ghosts. For the first time, Danny was well and truly on his own. Not even dying had seemed so scary.

“I can handle this,” Danny said with false calm. It was pitch dark around him but a little ectoplasmic light brightened the area up. “I’ll just stay here for the night and then I’ll check in tomorrow. If things are still bad, I’ll grab my gear and go.” Where he’d go was a whole other question but that wasn’t important right now. He was still too raw to think about what he’d do if he actually had to abandon his human life. All he could focus on right now was the hurt pulsing through him.

He wandered around in the dark for a little while longer, looking for a suitable place to set up camp for the night. Eventually, he came upon a set of twisting trees that was perfect for his purposes. Lightening his weight, he climbed up halfway and made a little ice tent in the branches. It was lightweight but thick, covering him up and serving as a shield between him and the rest of the world. In his own little ice palace, no one else could hurt him.

“There we go, home sweet home,” Danny mumbled as he crawled inside with a dull thump. He’d left a little skylight open, so he could look up at the stars. If he didn’t think too hard about it, he could imagine he was out camping with his dad or stargazing with his friends. “No, stop it. You’re only making it worse,” he said quietly to himself as the annoying flush of sadness washed over him. He didn’t like to cry; it made him feel stupid and childish and exhausted. Jazz had lectured him about the cleansing release of neurochemicals and other junk but really he usually felt worse after crying.

“This is fine, everything is fine,” Danny sniffled, shuddering as he curled in on himself. The only cold that could hurt him was his own. It really wasn’t a great idea to use his that much of his ice in his human form, it chilled his body too much to be healthy. That, combined with his light clothes, the chilly night and that fact that he was laying on a solid block of ice, didn’t help matters. If Sam and Tucker could see him, they’d be shoving him in the shower to warm him up and plying him with food and blankets. Jazz and her dozen kind of herbal teas that help with mood or digestion or whatever would shove one or two into his hands and hover until he drank some. Their nagging was annoying but it was helpful and made him feel so loved. Love he wasn’t feeling out in the woods all by himself in the middle of the night.

“This is fine,” he repeated, more choked up this time and gave into his desire to cry. His chest hurt from the force of his sobs and eyes burned from the salty tears. He was flushed and cold and miserable but eventually, after wiping snot away from his nose and hiccupping quietly, he was ready to sleep. He was so worn out from all the hurting and the crying that he slipped from wakefulness as easy as going ghost.

“Child, what are you doing?” Danny groaned at the vaguely familiar voice. His ghost sense went off, reminding him once more how cold he was. He barely had it in him to shiver right now. “Ghost child, awaken and explain yourself.” Cold metal poked repeatedly into his side until Danny shoved the hand away, sitting up with a miserable glare.

“Go away, I’m not in the mood,” Danny grumbled, turning away from Skulker to try and go back to sleep. “I already feel bad enough, I don’t need you making it worse.”

“That does not explain why you are in a tree in the woods,” Skulker said slowly, still hung on stupid details. “The last I checked, the human Lair you stayed in was still standing. I stopped there to show you my latest weapon but you weren’t there, I traced your signature here.”

“Congrats, pass go and collect $200,” Danny sniped back quietly, not putting any heat into it. He didn’t have much to spare.

“Why are you out here, all alone?” Skulker frowned, “humans are susceptible to the elements, I presume you’re no exception given your current state. Just this once, I will stay the hunt to return you to your human Lair and we shall resume at a later-”

“No, I can’t go back,” Danny gasped fearfully, he curled in deeper on himself. “My parents, they know about me, about my powers. They didn’t take it well, I can’t- I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“But those human children-”

“I’m not getting them involved in this, they’re already in too deep. Tucker’s still grounded from that incident with Desiree and if Sam’s parents caught me in her room at night I’d lose the other half of my miserable life,” Danny grumbled. “Just leave me alone or kill me and take my pelt. Either one, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I see,” Skulker hummed, “stay here, Child, I will return.” Skulker said before flying off.

“Great, can’t wait,” Danny murmured as he rearranged himself on his ice block. He still felt unbearably cold but it probably wasn’t enough to actually kill him. Probably. “Stupid ghosts, stupid powers, if I hadn’t walked into that stupid portal, I’d be be safe and warm in bed right now and only have to worry about passing pre-calc.” It felt like he’d barely fallen back asleep when he was forcibly awaken by something soft and heavy dropping on him.

He phased out of the tangle only to find a bunch of blankets and heavy winter coat that looked 2 sizes too big for him. “What the-”

“Wow you weren’t kidding, babe, he looks like a trainwreck,” he heard Ember’s gruff voice say. “Hey dummy, put on the stupid coat. I ain’t had nerve endings in a while but I’m getting cold just looking atcha.”

“You bring your girlfriend to harass me in the middle of the night with,” Danny eyed the pile with price tags still on them, “stolen merchandise.”

“Shut up, we’re crashing your pathetic little pity party so you don’t die before I can off you myself,” the rock star huffed. “If that coat isn’t on you in five seconds, I’m manhandling your skinny arms into it.”

“Jeez you’re worse than my sister,” Danny grumbled even as he pulled the coat on. It was big but fluffy, the extra layer instantly made him feel a bit better. “Happy?”

“Getting there. Techy, you brought the food or what?” Danny yelped as a large amount of food dropped in through his skylight. It was an interesting mix, a jumbo bag of peanuts, dijon mustard, a jar of pickled eggs, a couple bags of chips and a box of uncooked macaroni noodles. “Here, eat some human food.”

“What?” Danny questioned as Technus poked his head into the icy tree house.

“Oh nice place you got here child but it needs more lights and a flat screen and, oh, I can set you up with a killer stereo system over eek!” the technology ghost yelped as he was pulled back and Poindexter replaced him.

“Hey Danny, heard you were in a bit of a bind. Thanks to you, my Lair’s school is a better place now, bully free. You can cool your jets with me if you need to fly the coop.” Danny didn’t answer and instead opened one of the bags of chips, barbeque and ranch sweet.

“You can also stay on my island for however long you need to recover,” Skulker grumbled, like it pained him to say. “It’s no fun to hunt you when you’re so weak. I want to defeat you at your prime not at your lowest.”

“No, no, come to my lair! Everything is beeping and flashing all the time and I have a Minecraft room!” Technus interjected.

“I guess you could come to mine if you have to,” Ember huffed. “But aren’t you also buddy buddy with the Yetis bein’ an ice core and all? Or Queen Dora? Pretty much anyone will open their lairs to you with your stupid, beaten puppy dog eyes.”

“You guys, I don’t know what to say,” Danny said softly, taken aback by the show of kindness. He took in the blankets, the coat, the food, their offers. They didn’t understand, not really, but they were trying. It meant a lot, coming from his enemies. “Thank you.”

“Well, yeah, us nerds got to stick together,” Poindexter grinned.

“You’re human and an annoyance but your existence has given my afterlife quite a thrill. I’m not ready for the hunt to end quite yet,” Skulker announced.

“You’re our favorite nemesis,” Technus exclaimed, trying to squeeze his face back through the packed skylight. “We fight, we banter but we also support each other when we’re down! Whenever I’m feeling down, I come into the human world and our battles have me back up and running in no time!”

“Huh,” Danny said, looking down with a small smile. If his enemies could put aside their grudges and help him when he needed it then maybe... “Thanks again really but uh, I think I should go home, check in with my folks. Probably shouldn’t have run off like that but um, if it goes bad...”

“You’re part ghost,” Skulker said with a sharp nod. “The Zone is as much your home as it is ours. Really should get around to making a Lair one of these days. Only weak ghosts and parasites leech off of others.”

“You know the way back from here?” Ember asked. “Need an entourage?”

“Yeah I got it,” Danny answered, triggering his transformation. Poindexter squealed with delight as he phased out of his sad little ice cave. It looked cold and lonely which wasn’t what he needed right now. “And I’ll- it’ll be fine. I don’t think bringing a bunch of ghosts home with me will help my case.”

“Farewell, Child. May your spirits be higher on our next meeting. Having the support of ghost hunters will certainly add to the challenge of the hunt,” Skulker grinned. “I look forward to it.” He flew off and the others followed. Danny smiled, watching them go for a moment before flying in the opposite direction towards his house.

He was halfway home when the Fenton Assault Vehicle careened around a corner at an unsafe speed. Danny jumped as it went past, startled out of invisibility. He made eye contact with his parents before the RV skidded to a screeching halt and then hastily backed up. The window rolled down and he met the wide, teary eyes of his mom and dad.

“Uh funny running into you in a place like this,” he said shyly, looking down.

“Oh thank heavens, Danny where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!” His mother cried, jumping out of the RV and pulling him down into her arms. His father was on the phone, he heard Jazz’s name being mentioned, along with Sam and Tucker. “Baby, you’re freezing! Is this,” she paused, pulling back and delicately touching his wisp like hair. “Is that normal?”

“Sort of,” he said, leaning back into her touch. “It’s all kind of a long story. I shouldn’t have run off like that, I’m sorry.”

“No, you shouldn’t have but I don’t blame you,” Dad said, stepping out of the car and wrapping them both in a hug. “But Fenton men always make up for their goof ups. You were headed back home, right?”

“Yeah, home,” Danny sighed.

“Danny, I still don’t understand but I, we, love you and I’m sorry if we made you doubt that. We’ll work it out, sweetie, I promise. That’s what family does,” Mom said before ushering him and Dad into the car. “Now in you get, it’s too cold and too late for this and I do not want the neighbors complaining to the HOA again.”

Danny changed back in front of his parents for the second time that evening, this time intentionally. Their curiosity and happiness at seeing him overrode their earlier fear and confusion. He settled more comfortably into the backseat, warm and happy for the first time all evening.

“Danno, where’s you get the jacket?” Dad asked.

“My other family, don’t worry, I’ll explain it all tomorrow.”

#I'm sad and angry so have some sad and angry danno #the hurt helped with my bad feeling but the comfort soothed them #this was very theraputeic #danny phantom #hurt/comfort #*clapping hands* let danny be frenemies with the ghosts #also ive had the idea of danny running off and making a lil tree ice fort in my head for a while #seems like a good idea until you freeze your human butt off #jack and maddie are good peeps in my mind #they might not react well at first but they'll always come around for their kids #anyway here's wonderwall

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

Text

Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Note

can you write a canon rowaelin oneshot where aelin’s pregnant and it’s nighttime so while she’s sleeping, rowan talks to the baby through her stomach and sings a lullaby? and maybe add a scene where aelin’s water breaks and rowan freaks out or something?

It was about two minutes before Aelin’s favorite part of the day.

She could hardly wait, but she had to remember to stay calm and still and everything else someone who was asleep would be.

Luckily, she knew she didn’t snore, so all she had to do was stay quiet and keep her eyes shut.

A small task that became so much harder when--two minutes later, at exactly 10:30 like always--she felt her husband slip into bed next to her.

It’d been getting harder and harder to actually stay awake this late as her pregnancy developed, but she still found herself fighting the fall of her eyelids every night, despite knowing she should sleep.

Cool air kissed her skin briefly as he settled next to her and kissed her cheek. Like she’d done even before getting pregnant, she turned on her side so he could snuggle her from behind and wrap his arms around her.

This was home to her, here in his arms.

Rowan’s head tucked into her neck, and she sighed sleepily, something she didn’t even have to fake.

After a few moments, her husband’s hands began to rub over her stomach lightly.

She was wearing one of his t-shirts, one that barely fit over her anymore, and hadn’t bothered to wash her hair that day, but she’d never felt more beautiful than when he smiled against her neck and started to talk to the child they’d created together.

He silently slipped further down the bed, resting his head on the curve of her hip, but kept himself wrapped around her so she could continue stealing his warmth.

Aelin’s ears strained to hear as he started whispering, but she resisted the temptation to move closer, knowing it would give her away.

“Mommy’s sleeping right now, so we have to be quiet,” he murmured, big hands cradling her even bigger belly. “But soon, we’ll be able to do this in person. You’ll be here by the end of the week, from what they tell us.”

Tears burned in her eyes at the excitement in his voice as he said, “I can’t wait to meet you, Firefly.”

They’d found out they were having a girl two weeks ago, and he’d been ridiculous ever since, buying pink onesies, hanging matching twinkly lights in the nursery, reading a how-to book about raising girls.

But the one thing they hadn’t prepared for was what they were going to name her. They’d argued about it, and then one day he just started referring to their unborn child as Firefly.

It was a nickname that stemmed from him calling her Fireheart, and it made her almost cry every time he said it.

“Your mother’s the most important woman in my life, but you... you’re my baby girl.” She could hear his smile. “You’re going to be just like her. You’ll be strong, and beautiful, and will drive me absolutely crazy.”

Silent tears escaped, even as she remained perfectly still.

“But I can’t wait to see what traits of mine you have, too.” He pressed his lips to her stomach in a feather-light kiss, then whispered, “I love you so much, little Firefly. Now go to sleep.”

Rowan resumed his big-spoon position and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her to cradle both her and their child.

“That goes for you, too, Fireheart.”

Aelin grinned and snuggled further into him, murmuring, “I love you, Ro.”

He kissed her cheek. “I love you, too.”

“Are you serious?”

She nodded.

“You want lemon gelato for lunch?”

Rowan’s brow furrowed, prompting her to ask, “Why not?”

He looked at her like she had two heads. “You hate lemon, babe.”

Aelin groaned, rubbing a hand over her stomach. She’d forgotten about that. “Take it up with her. She’s the one demanding it. Little brat.”

He scowled. “She isn’t a brat. And she can have as much lemon gelato as she wants just as soon as she’s born.”

Her stomach reminded her once again how empty it was.

“Rowan, I swear I’m going to stab you if you don’t go get me something to eat.”

Her husband just smiled. “It’s moments like these when I’m reminded why I agreed to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“A very short life, if you don’t-”

A container of gelato landed on the counter in front of her, along with a spoon.

With narrowed eyes, she checked the label, then demanded, “How did you know?”

He laughed. “You talk in your sleep.”

“Eavesdropper,” she mumbled, ripping into the container and taking a huge mouthful.

See, this is why pregnancy was strange to Aelin. Nine months ago she’d hated lemon, and now this stupid container of gelato was the best thing she’d ever eaten.

“I love you,” she said around a mouthful, grinning when he came to press a kiss to her cheek.

“And now she’s sweet,” he teased, brushing her hair off her forehead.

Then he went tense, and every bone in his body seemed to still as he said seriously, “Aelin. Look down.”

“I can’t see past my belly, dummy. Just pick up whatever I dropped.”

His mouth opened and closed for a few seconds before he spit out, “You... your water broke.”

She leaned over slightly to look at the floor, seeing that there was in fact a wet spot beneath her. “Huh.”

She took another bite of gelato.

“Huh?” he asked incredulously, leaving the kitchen and starting to run around the house. He threw things in the bag he’d affectionately deemed The Baby Bag, yelling at her to get ready.

She rolled her eyes and continued eating, only pausing when Rowan burst into the room and demanded breathlessly, “What are you doing?”

“Eating. Can you hand me the pizza from last night?”

Because who was she to question her daughter’s cravings?

“Aelin, we have to go! You’re in labor.”

Reaching the bottom of the container, she sighed. Why did they make pints so small these days? “I’m aware.”

“So then get in the car!”

Her always calm and collected husband looked about ten seconds away from ripping his own hair out, which made her smile. “Labor lasts hours, Rowan. I assure you, I have time to eat a slice of pizza.”

“I’ll order you a whole, brand new, hot pizza at the hospital.”

She considered this, tapping her chin. “Fine.”

Then she turned and waddled down the hallway to their room.

“Wait!” he called out, coming after her. “What are you doing? The door is the other way.”

“I’m not going to the hospital in a wet dress, Rowan. It’s called standards.” Ignoring his angry little growl, she changed into a clean dress. “Zip me up, please.”

He zipped the dress in a flash, almost ripping it, then grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the door.

“Wait, I need shoes!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, green eyes bright with panic. “Babies don’t care if you wear shoes when you birth them.”

“If you think I’m walking across a hospital floor with no shoes on... grab those, will you?” She pointed to a pair of sandals, not feeling like bending down to get them herself.

Rowan roughly put her feet in them, making her frown. “I’m not really appreciating this attitude, you know. You don’t need to manhandle me.”

His jaw was tight from where he was grinding it, but he still sounded perfectly civil as he said back, “I just want to get to the hospital.”

Aelin sighed, patting his shoulder. “It’s been five minutes. We have time.”

He looked a little relieved... until she said casually, “Plus, worst comes to worst, you deliver her in the tub. All doctors really do is stand there and catch the kid.”

His mouth fell open, and the attitude came swooping back in. “I am not birthing this child in our bathtub, woman. Now, you can walk to the car yourself, or I will carry you, but either way we are leaving right the fuck now.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned and slowly made her way to the door, pausing when she came back into the kitchen. “You know, cold pizza actually sounds better-”

Rowan swooped her up, the ten pound bowling ball in her stomach seeming to be no issue, and walked toward the front door.

“Rowan! Put me down, you buzzard!”

He set her in the passenger seat, gripped her chin, and set a serious kiss to her lips. “You’re so sweet.”

Her hands fisted in the hem of her dress. “I don’t want to go yet.”

“You’re going.”

“No!” she exploded, pushing him away and trying to get out of the car. “No, no, no. I can’t go yet, I need more time, I-”

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he slipped a hand over her mouth to shut her up. “You can do this, Fireheart.”

She was crying, although she wasn’t sure when that had even started.

She shook her head.

“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You can do this. You’re going to be a great mom. I may be freaking out about actually getting to the hospital, but I’m not scared about what follows.”

Aelin gave him disbelieving eyes.

"If I wasn’t sure, one hundred percent positive, that you could do this, then yeah, I’d be scared. But you’re going to do great. I know that, and so do you.”

He took his hand off her mouth, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sweetheart, you’re great at everything. This won’t be any different.”

That made her smile, even as she rolled her eyes.

“I am pretty amazing,” she agreed softly.

“Yes, you are. But I’d really like to do this in a hospital room instead of our driveway, and you’re probably half-way dilated by now, so-”

It was Aelin’s turn to cover his mouth with her hand. “Let’s go meet Firefly.”

She didn’t even know the name of her child or how the hell they were going to pull this off, but under the steady weight of his gaze, Aelin knew that no matter what, they’d figure it out together.

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Ch. 5

18 + MINORS DNI

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: smut, blow jobs, vaginal sex, degradation, anal fingering, nipple play, face fucking, deep throating, nonconsensual photos, Shigaraki's big dick, rough sex, vaginal fingering, reference to exhibitionism, dirty talk, possessive Shigaraki, kinda unhealthy relationships, sort of loss of virginity for Shigs, creampie, brief reference to drug use, light cockwarming, praise and feels

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which Tomura bears all of his nasty soul and you get off on it.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @narcolepticroses (ask if you want to be tagged)

“I don’t—”

He couldn't finish the sentence, not when you were grinding down on him like that. How the hell did you even know how to move your hips in those little circles? Was there some "Being a Massive Slut for Dummies" book he was missing out on or?

“C’mon, Tomura, we’ve been through this,” you sighed and leaned down to suck a trail of sloppy kisses from his jaw to his ear, biting down on the soft flesh, “I know you’ve been thinking so much nasty shit about me, the least you can do is let me hear it.”

Those hands on his chest were moving again, curling into the hem of his t-shirt and tugging until it was over his head and tossed aside to the floor. On an embarrassing instinct, Tomura’s hands shot up to cover himself, only stopping when you leaned onto your haunches and tugged off your own.

“Shit,” Tomura whispered.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath.

He drank in the sight of those cute fucking tits he’d only ever caught glimpses of through those low cut tops you always wore. You grinned down at him, both hands coming up to play with your chest, fingers pinching and rolling the pretty buds. Tomura felt drool slip from the corner of his mouth.

“Is that all you got?” you challenged.

He wasn’t completely in control of his body as it catapulted off the bed to smash his face between your squished up tits, but neither of you were complaining judging by the sounds that followed.

You hummed happily as he pressed his cheeks to the warm, soft flesh and his lips closed around your nipple, sucking and laving his tongue over the pebbled skin.

“You really wanted everyone to see these, huh?” he meant the words to have more bite but it was hard to get the right edge with your fucking boob in his mouth.

And he wasn’t looking to stop suckling at you anytime soon so….

“They’re nice tits, what can I say,” you shot back and he couldn't wait to have you fucked so stupid all those witty one-liners would die on your tongue.

You fucking tasted so good. He hadn’t ever thought that tits would have a taste at all but the odd combination of skin and spit was addictive.

“Got a whole fucking eye full that first time you talked to me in class,” he growled, sinking his teeth in hard enough to leave a mark around your nipple. “Fucking parading them around every time you leaned over. Thought you were so fucking desperate for attention.”

If you really wanted to know all the vile, gross shit he thought on the daily then who was he to deny you that pleasure.

Cause you were definitely feeling some type of way about it based on the way your fingers threaded through his hair and held him to your chest as he tongued and bit at the skin.

“Think I’m just a stupid attention whore, is that it?” you moaned when he switched breasts, palm kneading at the one he’d abandoned.

“I think you’re a useless slut who’ll do anything to get a guy to fucking look your way,” Tomura gasped and sunk his teeth in again.

A shiver ran through him at the whine leaving your lips.

He did that.

He needed to do more of that immediately.

“You like it when I call you a fucking slut?”

Tomura didn’t know what came over him in that moment—what weird spirit of horny confidence possessed his body—but suddenly, with a surge of motion, his hand left your chest and latched onto the smooth column of your throat. The move had actually been quite graceful until he tried to flip your positions and got his legs tangled with yours, resulting in more of a...sexy pile than the smooth transition of power he was going for.

You didn’t seem to mind though.

You never did.

Tomura guessed if he was going to admit something nice about you, then it would be that at least you were consistent.

“I do like it when you call me that,” you breathed into his ear, hands under his arms to haul him back over top of you and replace the hand at your throat with a smirk, “and you love that it’s true.”

Fuck.

He really did, now that he thought about it. All those message boards always talked about finding virgins who you could mold to your dick just like they were meant to be, but…he was so fucking anxious at the best of times, having your eyes that pissed him off and knew it made this so much more fun.

There was probably a more eloquent wording than that, and you would probably more than willing to supply it, but the goal was to shut you up and he wasn’t gonna be okay with just coasting this time.

“God, you need to learn how to shut the fuck up,” he spat and subsequently yelped as you leaned forward, licking a wet trail up his chest before latching onto one of his nipples.

The flushed, pink skin disappeared into the heat of your mouth, leaving his dick twitching violently in his pants that had grown too tight and damp for comfort. The languid motion of your tongue over the rapidly pebbling flesh and the goldilocks perfect way in which you nipped at him was enough to corroborate all your claims of experience.

With the constant, electric spark pleasure running from his chest to his pants, Tomura found formulating sentences a little challenging, so he just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Why don’t we give you something even better to with that fucking whore mouth, hm?”

It was cliche as hell, stolen straight from one of the admittedly plentiful pornos he’d watched in his day, but you just grinned and popped off his nipple, nodded frantically at the innuendo.

Those clever little fingers that seemed to type without ever stopping dropped to the waistband of his sweats and tugged them down his thighs. He kicked a bit awkwardly to get them off his ankles but you were already yanking the elastic of his boxers. You smiled up at him through your lashes as you tucked the fabric just under his balls and let your eyes wander slowly from his splotchy red chest to the patch of hair just at the base of his dick.

If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought you were drooling.

Tomura felt a bit more in his element here, having had some actual frame of reference—as his asshole roommate was so generous to provide—so he didn’t waste any time. Falling onto his back, he squirmed up the sheets until his head was resting on a pillow and you were crawling between his thighs. God and you had your ass up too, wiggling it back and forth like you were wagging your tail at just the thought of getting his cock in your mouth.

Well, since you were so eager, Tomura decided to jump right in. You seemed to like things a bit rough anyway, so he reached out, burying a hand harshly in your hair and plunging past your lips.

The cute and kinda disgusting, choking gasp you let out was delectable.

And now he fucking knew Dabi was lying about his dick being small, cause you had a big fucking mouth to talk all that shit and it was absolutely stuffed full.

Your lips were stretched obscenely not even halfway down his shaft and your eyes were already pricked with tears at the edges. The fucking feel of your mouth was like how he imagined silk might feel, if it was soaked and scorching. Your throat constricted around him as you gagged and oh it was fucking cock sucking heaven he was in.

Tomura was almost tempted to grab his phone and snap a—

Actually, that was a fucking great idea.

His free hand fumbled for his pants, closing around his phone and unlocking it while you hummed and pulled back, bobbing your head twice before sinking back down, Your eyes flew open when the camera flash lit up the dark corner of his room. He could feel you trying to move away, to snap at him for taking his little keepsake, but he quickly fisted your hair and bucked his hips up to keep you firmly on his dick.

“Oh no, you were so excited to suck me off, you’re gonna finish the fucking job before you breathe again,” he panted, holding the sides of your face and fucking your mouth in earnest.

He’d found it easy to simply follow the instinctive rhythm of his hips, constantly seeking out the wet heat source. Your eyes rolled back in your goddamn head as his length slid past your lips over and over again

Holy shit it felt so good.

And it felt even better when he could see how much you loved it.

How much you loved his filthy fucking mostly virgin cock shoved down your throat and he finally felt the vulgar dam in his mind break once again.

“I think about you all the time,” he gasped, keening high when you ran your tongue over his slit on ever upstroke, just how he liked it. “I lay here at night and fuck my hand and think about sinking into your tight fucking cunt. I wanna fill you up so bad, it’s the only thing on my mind whenever I talk to you.”

The only thing stopping him from cumming straight down your throat in that moment was sheer horny force of will.

“When you mouth off in class, all I hear is you just begging for someone to bend you over and fuck that cocky fucking attitude right out of you,” below him, you reached a hand up, pinching hard at his nipple and humming at the squeal that slipped from him. “Fuck, and I want eat your pussy while you’re up there presenting this shit, so I can watch you try and keep it together. Such a fucking slut just for me.”

Something was washing over him.

Some weird, intense revelation of something that perhaps he’d always known but just needed the motivation of a fucking earth shattering blowjob to work out of him—that he wanted you. Really wanted you. Felt entitled to you. He’d spent so much mental energy obsessing over it: that really, no one else fucking deserved to touch you but him.

No one else would want you this much.

No one else would want him this much.

Your hands had found their way to his thighs and they were rubbing sweet little circles into the soft skin.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you?” his voice was wrecked, even more than usual from the near constant string of high pitched whining. “You’d love to have me fucking ruin you, make you cum all over my tongue in front of everyone. Let them fucking know who does this shit to you.”

You managed a nod, even with his cock buried deepdeepdeep in your throat. And Tomura was fucking twitching at the thought. The muscles in his legs jumped under your touch. A slimy mix of spit and precum was gushing down his length, slipping over his balls and slicking his ass. It was sloppy and the room was so full of the wet slap of his hips against your mouth.

It was so much, too much, oh shit, shit he didn’t want to finish like this—

“Wait, wait!” he cried, back arching with the agony of leaving the plush paradise between your lips. “Please—I wanna cum in you.”

You looked up at him, head hanging from his grip in your hair, with your jaw slack, dripping and nodded. He felt as though his ribs were filled with magnets instead of marrow that pulled him into your outstretched arms, kneeling as he pressed his mouth frantically to yours, uncaring of the mess or the faint taste of bitter precum.

There was something frantic in the air, like a switch had been flipped. The need to feel you, to be connected at every point—to get just a little bit more of what he’d earned—grew stronger with every passing second.

His lips were rough and raw and stung when you licked them but that only made it sweeter. You tongued at his teeth and sucked him into your mouth like he was warm food after months without. It was needy. Needy and ragged because you needed him.

You needed him.

What a fucking thought that was.

Your pants were quickly discarded along with his boxers, and for the first time in his life, Tomura didn’t care about all the exposed skin. He didn’t think about all the unsightly patches of irritation or scaring, because you never had. Not once had you ever stared or commented and you weren’t starting now. Your hands smoothed over every inch of him, just as desperate as he always knew you would be.

Because you were so—

Perfect.

Fucking disgusting.

Tomura let you fall back onto the mattress and whimpered at the feeling of your thighs hitched around his waist. He made the mistake of letting his eyes leave your mouth to glance down and oh, oh he was enraptured.

Dabi was right, he’d never actually seen a pussy in real life and holy shit.

His fingers gravitated immediately to your lips, fucking soaked, soaked in arousal that had smeared on your thighs.

“You get this fucking hot just from my cock in your mouth?” he asked, grinning as he collected some of the slick on his fingers and brought them curiously to his mouth.

Delicious.

“Yes—fuck—yes!” you whined and pulled him closer with your thighs.

“You want me to fuck you that bad?” his fingers ghosted over where he thought your clit might be and was rewarded when you moaned low as he brushed over a raised bud. “Does this nasty little slut want me that fucking bad?”

“Please Tomura…” his name on your tongue was better than any crazy ass party drug Dabi ever brought home, “you have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting you so fucking deep in me—”

Your words cut off with a sob as he ran his fingers down, searching for your entrance and sinking in hard when he found it. And it was so nice in there.

So fucking hot.

“What are you?” he asked, thrusting his fingers in and out, trying to remember how Dabi did it to him and what felt good, couldn’t be that much different.

He plunged them deep and curled up towards your belly and you sobbed, “A fucking slut!”

God he was so glad no one else was around to hear that.

This was just for him.

“And who’s fucking slut are you?”

He really could help himself, he just wanted you to say it so fucking bad.

“Yours,” you whined and rolled your hips down so his thumb caught on your clit. “I’m your fucking slut!”

“Shit,” he rasped and ripped his fingers from you.

He wasn’t entirely conscious of his movements. There was just one, very loud voice, screaming in his head to bury his cock in that perfect fucking heat and suddenly his was gripping himself and pushing in and—

“Ahh, fucking god,” Tomura whimpered, body going limp as his tip was sheathed fully inside you.

His forehead dropped down to rest against yours, arms like half cooked pasta on either side of your head, failing to hold him up. You moved your hands, sliding fingers through his hair and down his back as your ankles locked right above his ass to urge him forward.

Tomura’s cock sunk in inch by inch until he bottomed out with a groan. His mouth moved even when the rest of him couldn’t

“So tight…” he mumbled, head slipping into the crook of your neck and sucking lightly at the skin, feeling the comfort of it in his mouth. “Ngh...didn’t think it’d be this tight.”

“Are you trying to insult me or were you just a virgin?” you huffed out, but there was a laugh bubbling just behind the words.

He weakly held up two fingers to indicate the second, dropping them immediately to clutch at the sheets when you clamped down on his cock, nestled sweetly against your cervix.

“Wait really?” you asked, hands skimming up his back to grip his cheeks.

Tomura tried to hide himself in your shoulder, because the fucking dopey ass smile on his face would surely feed your ego and he didn’t need you knowing that your pussy had him fucking higher than a goddamn kite.

If only his bones hadn’t suddenly taken on all the physical properties of jello.

“I’ve fucked around before,” he said, which was technically true, “just never in a...uh, like this.”

He didn’t even need to move—which was really a lie cause he was burning with the urge to drive himself frantically into your dripping cunt—but he was so blissed out from just the soft, warm, tight hug of your walls around his cock which pulsed precum with every clench, that simply being inside you at all was enough.

What he wouldn’t give to have this all the time. Have you constantly sitting on his dick, keeping him warm and hard and cumming inside you.

Cumming.

Right.

At the reminder of why exactly he’d set out to do this, his body regained a bit of it’s former solidity.

“Oh,” you began, voice strained and hips shaking with the effort of not rocking back on his dick and making him blow his load too soon. “Well, you feel fucking amazing—”

Tomura cut you off with an experimental thrust. He pulled all the way back, watching as his tip just nearly popped out of your cute fucking hole and then snapped in again. You were a mess above him instantly, gripping at the pillows and then at his arms, dragging red scratches down the pale, fragile skin there.

It only spurred him on.

“You like that? Like my huge fucking cock in you?” he growled, flopping down fully so he could feel your nipples brush against his while he railed into you.

As much as you apparently enjoyed hearing all the filth that spewed from him, he really liked having a receptacle for it all to an even greater degree. It had been hidden inside him for so long, the release was only made sweeter with the addition of your slutty fucking pussy clamping on his length at every word.

“So fucking big, Tomura—”

You rocked up to slip your tongue into his mouth again, sucking softly at his rough lower lip and drinking down all the less than dominant cries that poured from him as his release grew again. He wasn’t really sure how to get you off, but you seemed to understand the intentions behind his hand wandering to nudge at the space he was driving his cock into.

Those soft fingers held his and guided them up to that nub he’d found before and moved his hand in little, rhythmic circles that had you fucking sobbing into his mouth.

Real tears streaked down your face as you moaned into him, “Oh fuck, yes Tomura, baby, just like that…!”

And for once, he had absolutely no qualms with doing exactly what you said. He wanted—needed—to know what it would feel like for you to cream all over his dick. Wanted to see the stupid fucking face you would make as he ripped you apart on his definitively massive length.

You were pushing back into each thrust, drinking in the sound of slapping skin, mouth permanently attached to his—tongues locked together.

The taste of fruit gum mixed with salty cum and the smell of sweat and sex and cleanlaundryshampoo was fucking everywhere. It was intoxicating and heady and all he had ever needed.

Really, you weren’t so bad when you were crying on his cock.

And you were fucking crying, screaming for him—his name, calling him ‘baby’ in a way that had his heart stuttering uncomfortably in his throat and babbling about how good, how fucking perfect he felt inside.

“C’mon,” he grunted, “c’mon, I wanna see my fucking slut cum for me, all over my cock.”

And for once, you actually followed an order.

His fingers on your clit never let up and he could fucking feel the orgasm wash over you. Your cunt spasmed and clenched hard like a vice, tighter than anything he ever could have imagined. And you choked out his name, so desperate:

“Tomura, fuck yes baby!”

God your face was so good, all scrunched up and then relaxing into a blissful, panting, open-mouth grin.

It was sort of beautiful.

But he wasn’t gonna fucking say that.

“Good fucking slut,” he whispered instead, arching his chest into yours so he could feel the swell of your pretty tits against his nipples.

And he almost fucking lost it right there but he needed more, needed to feel full too. The tightness of your pussy was so unmatched by any sensation, but he guessed Dabi always called him a greedy whore for a reason.

His hand grabbed at yours—hips only letting up when he couldn’t actively get his dick out of you as you came—and brought it roughly to his lips. Tomura was still slick, covered in spit and sweat but he sucked two of your fingers into his mouth anyway. His tongue delved between them as you watched with wide eyes as he spat onto your palm and whined.

“I need—oh shit—inside, inside...fuck…”

He could fucking get his tongue to make the words but he dragged your hand to his ass and prayed you’d get the hint. Prayed you’d fill him up too.

And you certainly delivered.

His hips started up their unforgiving rhythm again now that you’d rode out your release, slipping even more easily into your pussy with all the slick spilling out of you. God that would be his cum soon—his cum dripping out onto your thighs. Your feet dropped to the bed and Tomura grabbed your waist for leverage.

Your clever little finger circled his hole, wrist bent from the awkward angle below him but working nonetheless. His spit and precum made less than ideal lube but he welcomed the burn of you entering him. A second one joined behind the first and it was rough going for a moment until he was able to rock back fully, finding a certain bend of the knee and half thrust that had him simultaneously grinding into you and fucking himself on your fingers.

And then you managed to get deep enough to brush against that fucking spot, that magic fucking spot that had him seeing stars and screaming your name—not slut, not bitch, not some other fucking cruelty—your name and spilling rope after rope of hot cum against those searing hot walls.

Your eyes did that thing where they rolled halfway up and crossed like this was some fucking hentai and you weren’t knuckles deep in your creepy group project partner's ass while he came inside you.

Tomura went completely limp then, boneless like a cheap chicken wing and collapsed onto your chest, whimpering when your fingers left him empty but comforted by the rhythmic clenching of your cunt, warming his cock and keeping his cum safe inside.

“So good,” you whispered into his hair, soft palms smoothing over his back in slow circles. “Felt so good, Tomura. You were so good.”

He shivered in your arms, lulled by the feeling of your breasts under him and breathing in the mixture of soap and sex that radiated from your skin. Everything about it was strange, but in that wonderful kind of way that new games sometimes were. A tingling at the prospect of a new adventure, a new world, and a new journey to embark on.

You pressed your lips to his sweat slicked forehead and didn’t turn away in disgust.

No, instead you just held him on his cum soaked sheets and slept.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #shigaraki x you #tomura shigaraki x you #bnha fanfiction #bee.writes

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