#he looks so beautiful and yet he's still so young.... poor kid doesn't know what's coming for him.... sigh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fangirleaconmigo · 2 months

Text

Lambert and the Tribute

Ok. Hear me out. You know how there is the porny/smutty trope of the witcher who saves a family/town from a dangerous beast? And the towns folk are like, well, we don't have (or want to spend) money, so, here is our young sexy innocent but eager son/daughter as a tribute? *cue porn music*

So as usual last night, I was thinking about blorbos and shit instead of sleeping, and was like...how about we turn that trope around a bit? (not that there is anything wrong with it, I just like fiddling with tropes)

I present to you my concept, and I'm using Lambert for this because as I thought of it, I could hear his voice in my head.

...

So, Lambert comes back from the hunt, exhausted, out of breath, bruised, cut up, but triumphant.

He stands in front of the penniless farmer with the gnarly severed head of a beast. He has saved all of their lives. Because of him, life continues.

But the poor farmer is clearly distraught. He is a young man, early twenties, and is like...thank you so much Mr Witcher sir, we are mighty obliged. But sadly, tragically, we have no money. The harvest was lost, and we are hungry as it is.

The poor farmer tries to explain. Sir, I would gladly offer you my sexy and eager but wide eyed and innocent daughter as tribute, but tragically, my kids are too young to be sexy tributes. Mr. Witcher, they simply aren't reproductive age yet.

And the farmer is standing there, just anxious as hell about what the witcher will demand instead, like, will it be his young bride? His beautiful raven haired wife? They're basically newlyweds still and so very much in love. He can't abide the thought! He's racking his brain, is there anyone young and nubile and teen of aged in the next town???

And then he realizes fuck, WORST OF ALL, I hope this fucker doesn't want the law of surprise because that never ends well. Inside, this man is screaming, please do not take my kids in any capacity.

But isn't that what witchers ALWAYS want??? Children to make into MUTANTS????

So this poor (in every sense of the word) guy is stammering and angsting, but Lambert isn't paying any attention to him. He literally has not said a single word to him. He's not even looking at him. He's leaning a little to the right and looking past this guy, over his shoulder.

The farmer starts to get annoyed. Mr. Witcher, he thinks, I'm struggling here, help me out a little.

Lambert drops the nasty monster head with a thunk and turns back to the guy. Lamb is not particularly put out. He knew this family was poor. But still. This doesn't have to be for nothing.

He wipes the bloody sweat off his forehead with his arm and nods behind the man.

"What about him? He game?"

The farmer looks like his brain has just blanked out. He stares in silence. He slowly turns and looks behind him. Then he turns back to Lambert, waiting for him to laugh or to clarify. Lambert just stares at him expectantly.

"Well?" Lambert asks.

The penniless farmer is like.. "You---you want...m-...m-"

The young farmer doesn't wanna say it because that can't be right and he doesn't wanna embarrass himself. But Lambert is not helping him out at all. He's just looking at him like he's an utter dumbass, just waiting for him to get his shit together. "Spit it out, man."

Farmer tries again. "Mr. Witcher, sir. Are you saying that you want...my... FATHER?"

Lambert looks back at the object of his fascination. An older man is working, hauling bales of hay, loading them up in a wagon. And this man is like, mid-fifties, barrel chest covered with gray hair, full beard, inhospitable expression, overalls, dusty boots. He's thick, muscled and hard, he's covered in sweat, he's got calluses, he looks exactly like a man that's been busting his ass in the fields for more than a few decades.

As Lambert stares at the father, his expression starts to look a little hungry. "Is that your pops?"

"Uhhh yes?' The farmer's voice kind of screeches into a higher register.

Lambert shrugs. "Ok, well yea, your pops then. Ask 'im if he's game. Go ahead. I ain't got all day."

The young farmer just swivels, his eyes still in disbelief, still thinking he's going to humiliate himself. He wants the ground to open up and swallow him. He is starting to think maybe his youngest kid would make a good witcher after all. But Lambert is waiting and doesn't look perturbed. He doesn't look like he's kidding.

"Uh, dad?" The farmer is well, well into adulthood but his voice still cracks. But his dad hears.

The big older guy drops his bale and turns around. His eyes are sharp and hard. "Yep?"

The young farmer swallows. "Yes, um, father, the witcher here saved us."

"Obliged." The older man's voice is low, gravely, and he sounds like a man who does not suffer fools.

Lambert nods, an eager twinkle starting to gleam in his eyes. "Glad to help. It's what I do."

The young farmer continues, "And well, you know, we don't have any money to pay him. What with the bad harvest and all."

The dad nods, waiting. He's quiet too, not helping the young farmer out at all. So the younger farmer soldiers ahead. "So, father, he, the witcher that is, was wondering, um, if you would, um, want to be the uh..." he takes a breath and tries to say it fast, "tribute."

The young farmer almost faints from mortification. He's waiting for his dad to laugh at his idiocy. To shout at him. To kick his ass.

But what the Dad does is slowly raise his eyebrows. Then he turns purposefully towards Lambert. He switches his weight a little to one of his hips, and just quietly begins to look Lambert up and and down, assessing him with extreme interest. He is silently just raking his eyes from the top of Lambert's head down to his toes.

Lambert's grin gets wider, like it gleams, because at this point, he knows he's in. If the man is checking whether he is his type, then well, he's good with men. And Lambert just knows he'll be this man's type. Why wouldn't he be for fuck sake?

When the older man's gaze gets to his crotch, Lambert gives his prick a cocky little squeeze and licks his lips.

The older man grunts, and if the young farmer didn't know it was an interested noise, he certainly does when his father gives Lambert a wink. "Name's Abe, young buck."

The young farmer whispers several prayers for the gods to deliver him from this moment.

"Hi Abe," says Lambert, just eager and smug sounding as shit.

Abe takes his gloves off and hands them to his son as he passes him. He only says three words. "Don't wait up."

Lambert chuckles to himself, and there is a little hop in his step as they walk off together, since he is already anticipating the cock in his ass and could not be more overjoyed. Abe slides his hand down Lambert's trousers and squeezes his ass possessively.

The younger farmer just stands there with his jaw dropped. He had no idea whatsoever that his dad has this side to him. That man silently and stoically raised a family of seven children with his dearly departed mother, rest her soul. All his father ever did was work. You think you know a person. Honestly.

Lambert and Abe are long gone, and the son is still standing there in shock, when his beautiful young bride comes out of the house with a toddler on her hip. "Where did father go?"

The young farmer always likes that about his bride, she calls his dad father. "Yes. Heeee, um, went to pay the witcher for his services."

The young bride is surprised, she didn't know that father had money after the poor harvest they'd had, what with the locusts and all that. But oh isn't that a nice surprise, she thinks. "Well how generous of him. What a kind and giving man father is."

The young farmer puts his arm around his beautiful bride and pulls her in tight. "You know what my darling," he says, "it didn't seem like he minded in the least."

---the end

(and if any of you talented writers out there wants to write the sex scene, I would pledge my eternal friendship and love to you)

#the witcher #the witcher fanfic #lambert #this is for my lambert loving homies #you know who you are #descarada writes

189 notes · View notes

ladysophiebeckett · 3 months

Text

Some of you are being really weird about Aura Maria in regards to her treatment of Freddy and her overall character\personality traits. Overall, if you dislike a character its fine. It means nothing to me. But these posts about Aura Maria are getting a little misogynistic.

The facts are, that yes--she is immature, she does string Freddy along, she is very extroverted and charismatic and a lot of men like her.

You know who else is immature, strings someone around, is very extroverted and charismatic and a lot of women like them?

This guy right here.He's gonna string around his assistant for at least half a novela.

But there's already some excellent meta on Aura Maria and Freddy vs Betty and Armando and u can read them here and here. so I'm not gonna get into that.

Again, if you don't like Aura Maria thats fine. She's a flawed character in a show with other flawed characters. I don't like Patricia, for example. I think she's annoying, she's mean, her goal is to find a man to fix all her problems and she fails at it. She's immature. She's classist. She gets paid 3x more than the other secretaries bc she's a nepo hire and yet still can't make any payments bc she's terrible with money. I could go and on.

But a lot of you like her and sympathize with her and her problems and how nobody wants to help her.

Aura Maria is also sympathetic character. She became a teen mom. The guy that got her pregnant is not in the kid's life nor in hers. She's a receptionist at a company who's alternate slogan is 'women don't advance here'. Her parents kick her and her son out, yes it was a consequence of Aura Maria's party girl antics. But that's not a good enough reason to kick out your daughter and grandson. Knowing that she's a receptionist and doesn't make much money to begin with.

And then the Mario of it all. No, she shouldn't have gotten involved with him but he's the one in the position of power. He shouldn't have gotten involved with her, he shouldn't have encouraged it, nor should he have been seeing her and Patricia at the same time. Both women who work where HE works. And who does he want to fire when he gets caught? Aura Maria. She's the one who gets the low end of the stick.

Aura Maria and Patricia are looking for men with money to support them and don't do well in this endeavor bc the only man that looks like a prospect is using them in some way. That or the men they encounter don't take them seriously.

Freddy likes Aura Maria and yeah she does like him but she doesn't take him seriously as a prospect bc he's not rich and when you're a poor young single mom--bc REMINDER Aura Maria is in her early 20s forced to grow up quickly (she was a child having a child)--living in your friend's\co workers house--he doesn't completely fulfill her list of requirements of what she needs financially. She's not looking at the full picture. Much like Patricia, who doesn't look at the full picture when it comes to her transactional relationship with Nicolas.

So because Aura Maria mismanges her relationship with Freddy, I'm supposed to what? Have her burned at the stake? That because Freddy is kind to her, and does things out of his own free will over and over again, that Aura Maria needs to be devoted to him? Automatically? Because people think she owes him?

If you don't like Aura Maria, that's fine. But a lot of the posts I've seen in the general tag are past not liking a character bc the vibes are off--it's becoming about hating her bc she's not reciprocating to one guy bc you think he's earned it. Or it's about her not being a good mother bc she's not acting 'like a mother'. And want to see her punished for it as a result, as if getting sexually harassed by Gutierrez (ON TWO OCCASIONS) isn't punishment on it's own.

Because reminder (again)---that Mario AND Gutierrez have taken advantage of Aura Maria in some way bc of their position of power. Bc Aura Maria is young, beautiful, and poor. She can be easily be taken advantage of and tossed away. (Much like another character who gets utilized as a consequence of financial fraud)

But Freddy is the true victim in all of this bc Aura Maria sometimes take advantage of his kindness. Do you realize how dumb that sounds?

There is a double standard in how Aura Maria is being viewed bc she's not acting grateful or humble or self sacrificing enough to gain sympathy. She's being judged solely on how she's treating (1) man and not about all the other factors she's living in--some of them out of her control.

If one can feel bad for Patricia even tho it's primarily her fault that she's in the predicaments she's in, then I don't see why one can't extend that same grace to Aura Maria.

#ysblf #betty la fea

40 notes · View notes

eydi-andrius · 5 months

Text

ENDING GREEN

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE FIC SUNDAY MORNING COFFEE YET.

author's note: I guess you were my girlies who cannot accept that Nanami died....because SAME. I have blocked every spoiler but saved his beautiful photos walking and enjoying that beach in Malaysia.

Enjoy! And don't forget to let me know what you think! 💚

divider by @cafekitsune

💖

When Yuji was the one you saw at your parent’s front door, you almost lost it. You were breathing fast, panicking and dizzy from worry.

Yuji, who saw how your face turned pale instantly at the sight of him, panicked at first but then, he immediately tried to calm you down when he realized that his presence made you think of something you don't even want to mention.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I invited myself in.” He looked very sorry and even bowed in apology. You sipped the cold water he provided and closed your eyes to calm your racing heart. Thankfully, your parents went out temporarily or else, your breakdown will pass through them and poor Yuji will probably have a hard time taking care of everyone in the household.

“I’m fine. Why are you here, Yuji? Where is Nanami?” With a frown, you put the glass on the table and tried not to fidget in worry.

“Nanamin is fine. No, not totally fine. But alive and recovering.” He tried his best to explain but you noted how he looked away whenever your eyes met. Wait? What does he mean by recovering?

“Recovering?” You asked, and stood up in surprise. Your heart is racing back again in worry.

“He’s okay! I swear, he is okay! Shoko-sensei already healed him. He can’t just go to meet you yet. But he told me to tell you he is okay and cannot fulfill his promise of following you here.” He explained immediately and waved his hand to tell you to sit back down and relax, afraid that this time you will totally faint from shock.

“Healed from what?” You asked with a frown.

“I- I was told by Nanamin not to tell you. He said he will explain.” Yuji looked like someone who was caught red handed. A boy who was caught, like a deer in the headlights.

There is no point in worrying any further and pushing poor Yuji in the corner for more questions about Nanami when he was told not to mention anything from you. With a sigh of relief, from that dreadful week of waiting, especially, when you lost contact with him. You finally felt better, still worried, but better.

“Have you eaten yet? How about lunch?” You offered and laughed when Yuji’s stomach growled at the mention of food.

💚

The sterile smell of the white colored space made you nauseous. Although you were told he is well, you still do not know what he was recovering from. You have this fear on the way here that you tried so hard to swallow and hide on the back of your head.

Shoko was the first one to greet you by the door. She gave you a curt smile, but her eyes told you how tired she was. You cannot imagine the amount of sleepless nights she has to endure after that bloodbath. Even Yuji, who used to be so bubbly, was all quiet on your way here. Like an old person who is contemplating life. It breaks your heart to see him like that when he was just a child. He doesn't deserve to see and experience those things by himself. You understand clearly now how Nanami feels if he chooses to be a normal salary man, and leave these kids in the hands of those heartless elders. They will not care if they are exposed to danger and die. The same way they treated Nanami when he was young. With a nod, Shoko opened the door and you were greeted by a bed hidden by a white curtain.

“Just call me if you need anything.” Yuji, who was following you diligently up until that moment, had decided to give you space to meet Nanami alone. You nodded at him with thanks and he gave you a smile in return.

The walk towards the bed feels endless, the image you tried so hard to not think about keeps flashing in your brain. Each step is filled with a prayer that whatever injury he got is not as bad as you think it was. The more you move forward, the smell of antiseptic grows stronger, and the air tastes bitter, the smell is like an artificial soap. You stopped to take a deep breath before you took one last step and stood at the end of his bed. Mouth agape, you tried your best not to shed tears when you see how he looks. His head was covered with bandages, alongside his left face, all throughout his left arm. Some of his blood seeped out of the white cloth and stained the used to be pristine cover. The constant beeping of his life monitor is loud as it echoes to the quiet room and into your head. Your eyes continue to scan the damage he endured and left a silent gasp when you realized he is missing an arm.

Quietly, you move closer to him and plop down at the nearby metal chair beside his bed. With shaky hands, you took his remaining arm and clasped it like it was fragile. Your hand lost its strength from shock and you shook your head trying to decipher the pain Nanami must be in. You did your best not to shed tears, you truly do, but seeing the love of your life, half alive, pale and bloody is something you would never have thought you would see this sooner. You always thought that Nanami is the type of guy who will be able to leave the Jujutsu world with no injury, and healthy as a horse. You’ve guessed that you spoke sooner or maybe you were just naive.

His hand is just too cold and the fear you were trying so hard not to think about came crashing down like an avalanche. You did your best not to squeeze his hands too much as you whimpered and cried on his side. You prayed to all the gods and whatever creatures who can provide you a miracle that day. You begged them to give Nanami a chance. To bring him back to you.

You cannot remember how long you were in that position, but all you were interrupted by a hand squeezing your hand back weakly. You slowly looked up from where your head was placed on the bed, to silent your cries, and watched Nanami’s face for any sign movements. You did not know if you were just imagining that or not, however, your eyes were intensely trained on his face. Waiting for anything at that point. He did not open his eyes, but his mouth moved and you heard an inaudible sound coming from it.

Carefully, you move closer to his face and move your ears closer to his mouth. You waited for him to say whatever he had said again and when he did, your knees almost buckled from relief. You nodded in agreement and softly placed your forehead on his uninjured face. Thanking all the gods you had prayed for at that moment for granting you another chance with him.

“Yes, we will move to Malaysia once you recover. I will come with you and I will be yours forever.” And it was at that time you realized that at your lowest moment, a person who never knew faith, will only have faith to get through their toughest battle.

#eydi andrius #fic: sunday morning coffee #ending green

37 notes · View notes

ignoregnome · 1 year

Text

steve and eddie get married on the first day of august, 1990. and sure, the government doesn't agree, but steve and eddie have learned by now that the government doesn't really agree with anything they do. so they do it anyway.

on the monday before the wedding, the very end of july, steve is washing the dishes late at night after they come over for dinner. they've all turned nineteen by now, apart from little erica who's still fifteen. but she pulls her weight, and it seems that lucas and his friends respect her as an equal. but seeing the kids he used to babysit growing up is making steve feel a bit old, and he's starting to realise since he turned twenty-four back in april that oh no, he has to be an adult now. like, for real. so as he scrubs off a stubborn stain from one of the plates, he tips his head over his shoulder towards eddie, watching who-knows-what on steve's fancy television set, and says:

“Hey, Eds, you know what?”

eddie replies, “What?”

steve chuckles and turns his head back towards the sink. “We should get married. That would make me feel young again, y'know? Married at 24. It's weird to watch the kids grow up so fast, it makes me feel like a fossil,” he jokes, looking over at eddie again.

and eddie doesn't take his eyes off the tv screen, he just munches on his leftover chicken and mumbles through the food in his mouth, “When do you wanna do it?”

and oh shit, steve didn't think he would get this far. he should have anticipated it, really, with eddie's penchant for taking things literally. and now steve's realising that maybe his proposal wasn't that flippant after all. steve looks at this man spilling chicken crumbs all over his couch, and he thinks oh my god. i want to marry him. so he plays along. “Mmm, sometime soon. Next week okay for you?”

steve almost has a heart attack when eddie makes eye contact, smiles that beautiful smile of his, and says, “Yeah.”

**********************

they don't see each other until the wedding, because uhm... tradition, or something? steve ends up telling robin while he's over at her house and she's baking cinnamon rolls for erica's six-month anniversary with her boyfriend, and she freaks out so hard for so long (“Who proposed?!” “It's complicated.” “Have you written your vows yet?” “No—” “Can I help you??” “Of course, Robs, I—” “Oh my god, where is it happening?” “We haven't decided yet...”) that the rolls come out charred within an inch of their poor, sugary lives. robin lets out a scream that turns into a bit of a retch when she opens the oven and smells them. after disposing of the cinnamony corpses, she grabs steve by the wrist and drags him to her room. as she places steve on the bed with a pat on his shoulders and sitting down herself, she launches into one of her classic rambles:

“Okay, so, here's the plan. Double girls night, today and tomorrow, we write your vows in the morning, we bring over Max and Eleven and Erica and Nancy—”

“Don't you think it would be weird to have my ex at my buck's n—” steve interrupts.

“No. I fuck her better than you ever did.” steve blinks at this, but robin continues. “And besides, I think that you'll find that despite her many, many firearms, Nancy is the least threatening ex in the history of exes. Eddie has nothing to worry about! But hey — don't mention that I told you I think of her that way, okay? She'll get all sulky. Understood?” steve nods vigorously.

Robin claps her hands as she stands up off the bed, and smiles triumphantly. “Okay,” she announces, “let's get going!”

part 2 soon xx

#I have a fucking fever rn so im sincerely sorry if this is written weirdly #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #inari shrieks #fruity four #steddie ficlet #stranger things fic #the party #gratuitous use of italics #wedding au #robin buckley #ronance #just a teensy bit but there will be more in part 2 x

195 notes · View notes

silverynight · 7 months

Text

Underworld

<---Previous

Part XI

Mina knows she'll be fine, it's just another little visit to the mortal world; she's done that before and she can do it again.

However, she's still as careful as she can; the mortals sometimes are curious and she doesn't want her presence to be noticed, at least not yet.

She just wants to see Midoriya from afar.

The book feels heavy in her hands and she knows the little kids are wandering lost down there, but Mina needs to know, she must find out if there's hope for her explosive boss.

And then she sees him; Midoriya is taking care of his field, making things grow and work as they used to be, bringing life as he's supposed to do. The clothes he's wearing are different from what he was wearing in the Underworld, but they're also really pretty.

He's smiling and for a moment Mina hesitates, she wonders if this is the right thing to do. Perhaps Midoriya is happier and safer here; it's true that he helped a lot of people on the other side, but that doesn't mean he's destined to be there...

And yet Bakugo is very much in love with him and misses him to the point it physically hurts him.

She takes a step back, but it's too late: Midoriya has spotted her and now he's practically running towards her with a beautiful smile on his face.

Suddenly he pulls her into his arms and lifts her from the ground for a couple of seconds. Mina melts into the hug and realizes that even though she's worried about Bakugo, she also missed Midoriya herself.

They're friends.

"Tell me," Midoriya mumbles, cheeks turning slightly pink as he speaks: "How is he?"

Mina has to hold back a smile, because just at that moment she realizes that there's hope for the God of the dead after all.

"Well... He's grumpy, but when is he not?" She says and even though that makes Midoriya smile a little, the joy doesn't reach his pretty eyes. "He... misses you quite a lot and feels bad about what he did."

Midoriya looks away right before wiping a couple of tears off his eyes.

"I miss him too, I miss everyone," he whispers. "But I... Maybe this is where I'm supposed to be. I'm not dead yet after all."

It's so obvious that he wants to go back that Mina is tempted to encourage him... But, at the same time, she knows that he likes the mortal world as well; he helps a lot of people here.

"What about you and the others? What about Dynamight?"

Mina is hesitat to tell him the truth, but she also knows she can't hide anything from him either, because she did that once and he doesn't deserve that again.

She wants to do things the right way this time so she tells him the truth.

"Poor Dynamight!" Midoriya laments. "Oh please tell Kirishima and Kaminari to leave him in my... in that room if they can..."

Mina nods, knowing she'll have to talk with them in secret because... Bakugo will surely explode if he finds out.

"Okay... But I can't promise anything."

"What about the souls?"

Mina sighs, but shows him the three names in her book.

"Children?"

"Yes."

She can tell it hurts Midoriya and that he's tempted to go back, but he's struggling as well. It seems he's having an internal battle with himself because he shakes his head after a couple of seconds before making appear three beautiful flower crowns.

"Give them these and tell them they'll be fine," Midoriya whispers, wiping another couple of tears off his face.

Mina nods even though she doesn't know if it's going to work.

"I remember you."

The voice startles her, but fortunately she's already taken the crowns and hidden them before the god appeared.

Todoroki Shoto, the powerful and talented son of one of the most important gods. He immediately stands in between Midoriya and her as if he's trying to shield him.

Mina tries not to feel offended.

"You payed him a visit last time," Todoroki continues, glaring at her. "Right before he disappeared."

That young god is not only powerful but smart as well, which is very unfortunate for her.

"That doesn't make her responsible for what happened!" Midoriya protests, although he pouts, before taking one of Todoroki's hand in his.

"But maybe she knows..."

"Hey, Shoto," Midoriya cuts him off, but he's very sweet and gentle when he does, he even cradles the god's face in his hands and as Mina predicts, he melts right into the touch. "I told you that wasn't going to happen again, remember? I'm not going anywhere..."

Maybe Bakugo doesn't have that much hope after all...

Although Mina refuses to believe that.

"Besides, she has a lot of things to do..." Midoriya gives her a look and she understands immediately that it's better for her to go.

It's more than obvious that Midoriya hasn't told his friend, perhaps none of them, what happened, at least not all of it.

He pulls Todoroki into his arms and although the god returns his embrace softly, it looks like (for a moment) he'd do anything to keep hugging Midoriya forever.

Todoroki glares at her over Midoriya's freckled shoulder and Mina knows that he's making connections in his mind... He knows something and he is not going to let it go.

Which means she's in trouble.

***

Todoroki stays with him for a while, he seems to have relaxed a bit, especially after Izuku sits under a tree and allows his friend to lie down next to him and use his lap as a pillow.

He doesn't bring Ashido up again, but Izuku is still worried about what happened.

"Do you like this place, Izuku?" He asks suddenly, staring up at him as the green haired demigod runs his fingers through his mismatched hair.

"Of course I do!" Izuku chuckles as he points around him. "This is my field and I'm very proud of it!"

"No, I mean..." Todoroki takes his hand, surprising Izuku a bit and making him turn red when he presses a kiss to his palm. "I mean the mortal world."

For some reason the sentence makes him nervous, he feels like it's a trick or something like that. Part of him is tempted to tell him all about the underworld and the things he saw there that Izuku loved... But then he would have to tell him about what happened.

And it seems like Todoroki is not ready to hear that, at least not the whole story.

"Of course I like the mortal world!" Izuku says, which is entirely true.

"Is there no other place you'd rather be?" As he says this, Todoroki intertwines their fingers together, he's very gentle, but for a moment Izuku has the feeling that his friend is afraid to let go of him.

"No," he mumbles, but this time he lies.

"I'm glad," Todoroki smiles, before rising into to a sitting position again. He wraps his arms around Izuku and pulls him closer to his chest before kissing the other's cheek. "It's... I'm scared of losing you again."

"You won't. I told you I'm not going anywhere."

"I know."

Instead of keeping him company for a couple of hours, Todoroki stays the whole day with him in the field and even walks him home when it's dark again.

He kisses Izuku's forehead as a goodbye.

"I'll come back tomorrow," he says before shaking his head. "Well, I have something to take care of first, but I hope it doesn't take me long."

Even though his friend is smiling, Izuku suddenly has a bad feeling...

***

It's not the same without Midoriya around, but the flower crowns do cheer the little kids up a bit. Mina even finds herself chuckling when later that day Kirishima and Kaminari get excited about the messages Midoriya sent them.

And then Bakugo rushes inside the castle and steps right front of her like a desperate man or desperate god, if she wants to be more accurate about it...

"Is Izuku back? Is he here?"

Mina blinks a few times, confused, but then–

"I saw a couple of children with flower crowns... New ones."

"I'm sorry... I–I payed him a visit. He gave me the flowers for them."

Instead of getting angry, like he would years ago, Bakugo nods, almost devastated; his shoulders fall and it's obvious that he misses Midoriya more than anything.

"Is he alright?"

"Yes."

Mina can tell Bakugo is aching to ask more, to ask if Midoriya said something about him... If he misses him, but he shakes his head slightly and turns around to go back to work.

It's heartbreaking.

Which is why she decides not to worry him even more, although she has the feeling that she should mention about what happened with Todoroki, because it seems like it could be a problem.

She just hopes she's wrong.

***

Next--->

Patreon

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #bkdk #tddk #shoto todoroki #izuku midoriya

31 notes · View notes

belit0 · 9 months

Note

i think run by onerepublic suits shisui

YES, AND IT ACTUALLY SENT ME DOWN THE AKATSUKI! SHISUI ROAD 🛐💕

"When I was a young boy living in the village, all I did was run, run, run, run, run. Staring at the lights, they look so pretty," Shisui comments as he looks out over the landscape, unbuttoning his long black tunic just enough to reveal the mesh T-shirt he wears underneath. Red clouds drawn on the fabric shimmer in the sun, giving away a much more adorable image than what it really is, "My momma eventually said: son, you're gonna grow up, you're gonna get old, and all that glitter don't turn to gold, yet until then, just have your fun, boy, run."

Itachi listens attentively, knowing his best friend's whole life story but still letting him talk as if he had never heard the tale. Under his conical hat he takes shelter from the sun, glancing sideways at his cousin's face, appreciating the eye he wears covered.

If there's one thing Shisui enjoys, it's lecturing him as if they're not only 3 years apart, and Itachi won't prick his bubble. He loves to see his charismatic smile, and the dimples it forms on his cheeks.

"When I was a young kid living in the village, all I did was figth. And every single dime that good Lord gave me, I could make it last three, four, five days." In normal times, the Uchiha was always known as a money fighter, coming from the poor side of the family, and Itachi remembers as if it were yesterday how his father would give the poor boy a plate of hot food.

Only when the village recognized his worth did people begin to see him.

"Living it up but living down low, chasing that luck before I get old, and looking back, oh, we had some fun" The younger Uchiha would destroy all those who took advantage of Shisui's kindness, the filthy old village leaders who decided to use him for their own benefit, and listening to him talk about his misfortunes always brings bitter feelings to his throat.

Emotions he knows how to conceal very well.

"What did my father use to tell you back then?" he asks as if he doesn't know the answer, drowning in his own memories, always carrying with him the same anxiety he felt when he found Shisui about to jump into the river.

He had almost arrived too late.

"They would tell you that the sky might fall, they'll say that you might lose it all," The older Uchiha laughs aloud, throwing his head back and holding his stomach. Losing his eye had marked him with permanent instability, a condition only Itachi understands. The village took it upon itself to drain him of all his goodness, leaving a killer of questionable sanity in its wake "so, I run until I hit that wall! Yeah, I learned my lesson, count my blessings, look to the rising sun and run, run, run, run".

Itachi looks at him intently, and can't help but catch his laughter. If you look at him carelessly, Shisui seems to have forgotten everything that happened, perhaps even forgiven, but it's a facade he keeps up only for those who don't really know him. The rest of the Akatsuki don't need to learn his true feelings or intentions.

Shisui joined them for the sole purpose of wiping out the village completely.

"Didn't get everything that I wanted, you already know that, but I got what I need, yeah. Now I see that light in the morning, shining down on me, so, Tachi, take me up high, take me down low, where it all ends nobody knows!" The older Uchiha smiles as if he were twelve years old again and an innocent child knee-deep into issues that don't concern him, being used by the village left and right.

Itachi promised to help him achieve his goal after finishing off the whole family together, receiving Obito's support to flee and plan a concise strategy against Konoha. "Until then let's have some fun, yeah?" he asks tenderly, staring at him and appreciating the man's beauty in the sunlight.

Both of them, together, would avenge that Shisui who almost fell down the river's precipice, avenge the poor boy who was unjustly used because of his talent for nefarious purposes, evil and death.

"Yeah... In the end, I learned my lesson, count my blessings, look to the rising sun, and run." Shisui whispers to himself, his one available eye lost in the horizon and apprehending the sunset. Despite his carefree manner and cheerful personality, Itachi knows what he truly longs for.

They would both destroy all those who tried to harm him.

#uchiha shisui x uchiha itachi #shisui uchiha x itachi uchiha #shisui x itachi #itachi x shisui #itachi uchiha x shisui uchiha #uchiha itachi x uchiha shisui #shisuita #itashi #uchiha itachi #itachi uchiha #itachi #uchiha shisui #shisui uchiha #shisui #naruto shippuden #naruto imagines #naruto #uchiha clan

16 notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 2 years

Text

Byakuya Kuchiki x F! Reader ~ The Monarch Butterfly 🦋

a/n: initially a self insert story, but I thought maybe someone will like to enjoy it too so I wrote it in the x reader format! Though reader has orange hair (like i do) but besides that pretty much no other special traits. This work is the first part of a series that tell the story of my OC! Then again remember you can read it too as it's on a x reader format! 💖

tw: a little bit of angst regarding Byakuya and Hisana. completely sfw.

wc: 2.9k

I drew Byakuya with the butterfly myself for the banner, excuse my lack of artistic skills :P

Special thanks to @the-witch-of-one-piece for giving me the idea of visiting a botanic garden with him! I love you, babe! 💖

Is not that Byakuya doesn't know how the living world looked like, but he never really cared about his surroundings every time he went there.

The Senkaimon doors opened and after running through the Dangai, as the Kōtotsu happened to be cleaning the place, you two are finally in the world of the living. As always, the city of Karakura seems lively and nobody is aware of your existence until you wear your Gigai.

And the reason why you two are visiting the place is in fact because Urahara Kisuke has communicated you your new Gigai are ready to be picked and tried.

“Captain? Do you think it’s gonna look like the old one?” you ask him to at least have a conversation while you walk to Urahara’s shop. “I hope so, though you are the only one able to tell” he murmurs, fixing his sight straight towards the path you are taking. Byakuya doesn’t smile often and doesn’t waste his time to enjoy his surroundings. Yet, he is aware of everything that might represent a danger or a possible fight.

You, the third place in the sixth squad walk always right next to him ready to receive his orders, yet with eyes that scan the beauty of a lively different society. “Yeah… I think so…” you mumble in response to his short words. But how much you wish he would know your body just as you do.

Right around the corner is Kisuke’s store, but you two take your time to meet a little boy who apparently has lost his way towards Soul Society. Byakuya, as serious as possible takes Senbonzakura and without much explanation gets ready to perform the needed Konsō to the poor, scared kid.

“Captain! He is scared!” you stop him, because the blade of his cherry blossom Zanpakuto is about to make his way towards the forehead of the child. “So? He needs to transmute, (Name)”.

“Can I do it?” you ask him while wiping the tears off the kid’s cheeks. “Ok, I will go ahead and pick up the Gigai in the meantime”

As Byakuya walks his way towards his final destination, you crunch next to the little child. Dark hair and big grey eyes reminds you of a little version of your captain. “Hi, honey. Listen, this won’t hurt. You will be going to a better place, and I promise that we will meet there, ok?” you swear to him. “But before…What’s your name?”

“Hoshi” he mutters in between sniffles. The name Hoshi, meaning star reminds you even more of Byakuya… he is a midnight sun…

“Fine Hoshi, this won’t hurt. Just close your eyes and you will be soon somewhere else”

The kid has now turned into a beautiful black butterfly and his soul is safe traveling towards the Soul Society. You take a time to process the fact that a child so young has passed away and wonder if you will be able to find him once you are back home.

The bustling sounds of the city distract you enough not to see the person right in front of you. Your face buries on a black cloth covered chest. “DAMN!” you shout, scared because you, in your soul body, have bumped into another person.

“Officer?” he asks, grabbing your arms. And soon you realize is no other than your captain. “Oh… Captain! I’m sorry, I…” you stutter, inevitably blushing as your body was still pressed against his.

“I was looking for you, I’m already wearing my Gigai. Come on, people will think I’m crazy for speaking to the nothingness” he commands, and you take the last words as an unsettling speech.

Nothingness… nothingness my ass.

Kisuke Urahara and Yoruichi Shihoin salutes you as you enter the store. Byakuya waits outside as the relationship between he and Yoruichi has never made him comfortable, and you wonder if there was another reason besides the cat woman being a pain in his ass. But, in your case, Yoruichi is a dear friend… in fact, she was the one who gave you the red ribbon you always use to tie your hair.

After laughing and catching up with them you try your faux body on. As always, Kisuke has made a perfect replica and you are ready to become noticeable in the world of the living.

“Thank you, guys!” you bow and get out of the store where Byakuya waits for you leaning over the side of the store. He is watching in silent as Ururu plays with Jinta and his constant frown doesn’t abandon his face for nothing in this world. Byakuya has a deep sadness, and his heart closed, almost like a hollow.

Your captain acknowledges you with a nod and begins to walk. But Yoruichi, knowing him since he was a child wants to have fun -and maybe help you out-. “Byakuya-bo!” she appears in front of him using Shunpo just to piss him off. “ Yoruichi Shihoin… what do you want?” he asks, annoyed with a twitching eyelid.

She laughs and hands him two pieces of paper. “Here, take this poor girl to the Botanical Garden for once. You will have to get used to your gigai for a couple of hours before coming back to the Seireitei” she lies, well aware Byakuya is not an idiot but hoping his boyfriend would speak up for her to continue with the lie.

“Right, Kuchiki-san! I forgot to tell you! It’s really important for you to stay at least a couple of hours in the world of the living so your gigai get used to the use!” Kisuke also lies, but since he is a genius Byakuya trusts in him.

You narrowing your eyes remain silent and comply to their lie. Yoruichi, and probably Kisuke too, know about your crush with your captain and even if you had stated that he will never be with you she would always try to push some buttons to help you.

“Ok… (Name), do you wanna go here?” Byakuya asks showing the two tickets. A huge smile forms on your lips as you read the papers, “Botanical Garden: Sunset, Flowers and Butterflies Event”. You nod, like a child, excited for such fun proposal. And after saying goodbye to your cupids, you walk in silence with Byakuya towards the Botanical Garden of Karakura Chó.

Byakuya gives you the tickets as he walks and ignores the people’s stare. “Uh… captain, why did you choose a formal suit for your gigai?” you ask, because he looks like as if he was ready to attend the Oscars. His hair, untied flows with the wind and of course he is not wearing his Kenseikan nor his Ginpaku.

He stops and looks at you rather confused. One of his brows lifts, and his head tilts a little to the side. “Isn’t this what humans wear nowadays? I’m actually surprised about your outfit… is that… a dress?” he asks, maybe insinuating something about the length of your clothes.

“Uh… it’s ah- you look good captain” you decide it’s worthless to explain him about the differences between modern formal wear and casual, so you just opt for the compliment. Compliment that kinda make your cheeks turn on fire.

Byakuya nods and continues walking. “You look good, too”.

That’s it, your heart finally stops. Did he just… say I looked good? You shake your head a few times and follow him as he walks so nonchalantly through the streets of that highly spiritual city. His hair flows with the soft breeze of the autumn, and you can’t help but enjoy the beautiful work of art he is.

When you finally get there, there isn’t a huge line but no more than two sweet couples in love waiting to enter. Byakuya looks at them, but his stare soon looks away. You notice, it’s heart rending. It’s not that he is not open to love, it’s that not enough time can heal the pain of losing his lover, Hisana.

“Captain? Would you like to come back? I-“ you whisper, grazing his forearm feeling an oppressing need to cry in your chest.

You cried and smiled when you knew he was getting married, because he was your love, your forever love. You also cried, cried so much when Hisana died. The many days he wouldn’t come to the squad, when you were just the 9th place, and he was just a trainee. The way his eyes turned from brilliant stars in the night to sad, dull ones… he lose his heart, he said. And you kept it close forever…

“Urahara said we should spend some time here, why you wanna go back?” he asks, unaware you were able to read every expression of his countenance. More than a century looking at him from afar… more than a century learning about him. “Oh, uh… let’s stay then”

Byakuya looks at your hand resting over his arm but doesn’t say anything. You, as always, following his eyes realize he is in fact watching you touch him and quickly try to take your hand off him. But he stops you. Without any word, he grabs you tightly, and offers you his forearm. Like a true prince, dressed in formal wear, and like a princess wearing a short pink dress you walk with him to the entrance of the botanical garden.

“Tickets?” an old woman asks before you are allowed to go inside. “Y-yes. Here” you stutter, in heaven and excited because you are actually walking grabbing Byakuya’s arm.

The old lady checks the tickets and opens a little wooden door for you to pass. “Please enjoy! You make a beautiful couple” she says and asks Byakuya to stay there for a second. You keep walking, happy for the compliment but annoyed as you had to let go of him. The lady comes closer to him and as if she was telling him a secret, she whispers; “Sir, if you are planning something you can always tell us, and we will help you out… that suit could only mean one thing”

You can see the way his steel eyes with a hint of pink slowly narrow, he is either thinking or annoyed and you only pray for that lady not to ruin the moment. But he simply nods and thanks her and walks towards you. “Well, let’s see what’s this about” he simply says, offering you again his arm.

You smile like an idiot, and lovingly grab his forearm.

The grass underneath your feet feels cold and wet but it’s not uncomfortable, in fact it shows how perfect the gigai works. It makes you feel alive, really alive. As for your captain, he is for the first time looking at his surroundings. Byakuya is discovering the beautiful variety of plants and trees all around. He is used to cherry blossoms, but not to the rest.

All hues of green, pink, red, lilac, even blue flowers sprouting from beautiful paths of soil. “Oh… this…” he mumbles, pulling you out the awe of such perfect place. The sun is on its deathbed, and it slowly starts falling behind the horizon bathing the whole place in lilac and orangey tones.

Byakuya sometimes, even if he considers his surroundings are beautiful, fix his sight on you. You have let go of his arm and are admiring the tulips. The warming colour palette of the sunset tints you and it reflects on Byakuya’s foggy irises and fair skin.

You can suddenly sense a raise in his reiatsu, but he is not in danger. You turn around to catch him staring at you with a soft expression. The hair locks of his fringe play with the breeze and both of you look directly in the eyes. The people pass around you and for some seconds none of you move. The connection feels surreal, but it’s there and the dying sunrays of the afternoon are the only thing that gets in between your distance.

You blink and a little smile appears in the corner of your lips, the pink dress you are wearing is nothing compared to your cheeks. Byakuya does not smile, but he doesn’t take his eyes of you either. His lips remain semi open, and he looks like he was in trance, absolutely caught by your beauty.

You dare to take a single step forward, maybe he wants you to come closer? But it only helps to break the spell. He suddenly shakes his head and looks to the ground with desperate façade. It’s over… the dream is over… but he was looking at you, wasn’t he? And so, you giggle, his cute, embarrassed face makes you so happy.

You decide to turn around to keep looking at the flowers with the biggest smile ever. “Thank you Yoruichi…” you mouth and from your wrist you untie the red cord you always use to tie your hair up in a ponytail. If Byakuya knew who the real owner of that ribbon is…

With your hair up, and red string hanging from your ponytail, you are ready to keep enjoying the place until Byakuya decides to come closer to you. And in fact, he does a few minutes after when you are approaching the roses section.

“Uh… I thought roses were only red?” he asks, this time sincerely interested… or maybe he was just looking for an excuse to talk to you. You look at him with a smile, and then again to the flowers in front of you. “Here says that there are as many colours as the florist desires, they tint them with water and dye” you inform him, sensing how his reiatsu grows stronger once again. You can feel it on your skin, but it’s not uncomfortable, nor oppressing. It feels warming and as he was hugging you.

“Ah… I see” he mumbles, looking at the same flowers over and over again from over your shoulder. You take a quick glance at his lips, still barely touching. When Byakuya is serious and concentrated he keeps them seal tight, sometimes even squeezing them a little. But not now.

Something in the back catches your attention, a place called “Mariposas house”. Mariposas… oh! Butterflies!

“Captain! Let’s go, you will like this” you suddenly tell him, acting on an impulse and pulling for his hand. As you walk and Byakuya follows you completely confused, you can feel the softness of his skin disrupted by a little scar in the centre of his palm. You quickly remember his last fight against that Fullbringer and the way he grabbed some of Senbonzakura’s blade with his own hand… he is such a fighter.

Once you get to the door of a place that looks like a vivarium, you tell Byakuya to follow you in. Inside, besides many plants beautiful butterflies dance in the air with their colourful wings. You know them, of course you do. Not only the black ones, the Hell butterflies, but also the rest. Because every time you visit this world, they follow you everywhere you go.

Taking a look at Byakuya, you found him mesmerized. His lips are now open, and his eyes absorb the colours of their wings. He is not able to speak, and you would say he looks like a little child discovering something beautiful for the first time.

The prettiest Monarch butterfly, with bright orange wings poses on the tip of his nose. It’s orange like the sunset, orange like the juicy tangerines you like to eat after training with him, orange like your hair. But it’s delicate like his noble manners. Like the petals of his blade, like the way he speaks and like his graze when he lends you a hand to help you stand up after training.

“(Name)… this… this butterfly is… it looks like the brooch…” he chimes, in awe, even crossing his eyes just to take a better look at the insect resting over his nose. “It isn’t black, Captain! It’s a Monarch Butterfly! Like the flowers, their wings are different colours!” you tell him, ignoring the last part of his sentence and coming closer to inspect the funny butterfly, thinking he is completely absorbed by the fact there are another types of butterflies besides the Hell ones you are all used to.

Closer, closer you get to him. On tippy toes as he is taller than you. Your grab his arm, but you notice he is not able to speak now. His eyes get watery. There is no way Byakuya is afraid of a butterfly, it must be another reason…

“I- I can’t believe it… I thought…” he stutters, and you see a little tear falling from the corner of his eye to his cheek. “Captain…?” you whisper, tilting your head to see what’s going on.

The butterfly flies away and posses this time on the crown of your head. Byakuya follows it and finally lands his eyes on you. “Why are you crying, Byakuya-sama?” you ask, calling him for his name instead of captain. But Byakuya never answers, and instead he hugs you tightly.

The butterfly flies away, far, far away into the sky scaping from the little opening the glass ceiling has. “Thank you, Hisana…” he mumbles, and hugs you even harder. The warm embrace of his arms feels so caring and freeing, and soon you remember all butterflies bring messages from your loved ones…

“I promise I will take care of him, Hisana-sama…”

147 notes · View notes

thelazyecrivain · 1 year

Text

Fluffbruary - Day 21 (Young)

Day twenty-one of @fluffbruary, using the prompt "young"

Read on AO3

French Version

----

He had found him in an old abandoned house, slumped on a mattress and so drugged up that he mistook him for a woman. Yet he is a genius of observation, as he would later discover to his own cost.

He had carried him with difficulty to the police car, and listened with a distracted ear to what the young drug addict said all the way. Once settled and strapped into the back seat, he had sat facing the steering wheel and driven through the streets of London. The sun had long since set, with only the revellers and night owls out.

He had to take him back to the station, that was the law. He was only a new policeman, he had no right to make mistakes if he wanted to climb the ranks. But this poor kid just needed help, not to be locked up in a cell. He debated what to do for several minutes, glancing at the human wreck that the kid had become. He sighed with relief when he was called to a crime scene a few blocks away.

Not sure if he understood, he told the kid to wait in the car and joined his colleagues. What he didn't expect was to see his drugged-up kid get out of the car, which he had locked, and walk onto the scene of the crime, tangoing over the corpse as he spoke at a rapid rate of speech. Shocked by the boy's attitude, it took a while for the police to react and remove him from the building. Lestrade realised a few minutes later that the junkie had solved the case.

He managed to catch up with him, asking him how he knew, and impressed by his observational skills, he kept his number with a promise to call him back. He followed the youngster's directions and solved the case, earning praise from his superiors.

He calls the young man back and asks if he can work with him, but only if he goes into rehab. Sherlock Holmes has been sober ever since.

***

Lestrade was as surprised as everyone else when John Watson arrived at the crime scene with Sherlock. Greg sees Sherlock showing off to the doctor, and it works, as he compliments him every time the detective opens his mouth. He was still surprised when he saw the blond man later, still at Sherlock's side.

He befriended John, and with him he discovered a new side of Sherlock. It was several weeks and crime scenes later that he realised that Sherlock had fallen in love with the doctor. Just look at the looks he gives him, as if he were admiring a work of art in a museum: beautiful but untouchable.

Lestrade cares about Sherlock, so when he sees John's influence on the detective, he worries. The doctor can bring out the best in Sherlock, make him happy, or take him to the bottom of the pit. John doesn't even realise it and complains about Sherlock's mood swings on their night out at the pub.

One evening, with the offices of Scotland Yard half empty, Greg thinking about his bed while he's bent over an investigation, Sherlock comes into his office. He was surprised to see him so late, without John, his hands shaking, his hair completely dishevelled, and his eyes haggard. He sat down on one of the chairs and took his face in his hands.

"I don't know what to do anymore." His voice was weak and Greg had to lean over his desk to hear him. "I thought I could handle it." He looked up, planting his frightened gaze in Greg's. "It's too strong for me."

Greg handed him his coffee, and Sherlock drank it in one gulp with a grimace. "John's with his new girlfriend." Greg said. That's not a question.

Sherlock took a deep breath. "I'm in pain, Greg." He's not talking about physical pain.

Lestrade didn't point out that he knew his first name, this wasn't the time. He went to sit in the chair next to the dark-haired man and put a hand on his shoulder. "You have to tell him, this can't go on."

Sherlock sent him a dark look. "So he'd find me disgusting and shun me like the plague? Can you tell me how many times he says 'I'm not gay'? Because I can. And his girlfriend parade, bringing anything in a skirt to Baker Street. He's made it clear to me that he's more interested in breasts than penises."

"Shit, Sherlock. I didn't know it was that bad." Greg bows his head, dejected. What he'd give to have John in front of him and show him Sherlock in this state. If he knew how much his stories with these women were affecting his friend, maybe he'd cut the crap. "I'll get some coffee, you stay here." They're going to need it.

Sherlock nodded. Greg walked out and went to the coffee machine. While waiting for the two coffees to be ready, he sent a message to John.

1:38 am

Sherlock is with me, he's not well. You'd better get yourself over here before I go looking for you.

Greg thinks he's being polite. He brings the coffees back and finds Sherlock in the same position as before. He's never seen the detective so vulnerable.

He crouched down in front of him and handed him his cup of coffee. Sherlock thanked him and took a sip, probably hot from the look on his face. He put his hand on his forearm to get his attention.

"You need to talk to him about this. John cares about you, he'll never be disgusted because you're gay or because you love him." He sees Sherlock clench his jaw but Greg continues. "He'll be more careful with you and stop his uneventful relationships with his girlfriends. But this can't go on."

Sherlock shakes his head. "I know him, John will avoid me, but thinking to do the right thing and spare my feelings. He'll hurt me by meaning well."

"I can see why you two get along so well, you're awkward with feelings as much as each other." Greg hoped to lighten the mood but shouted in victory when Sherlock smiled, "Come here."

Greg pulled him to him and Sherlock relented, taking him in his arms. The angle is strange but neither of them say anything. Sherlock has his head resting on his shoulder, while Greg wraps his arms around him, rubbing his back. He feels Sherlock relax against him.

They stay like this for several minutes, when, without warning, John bursts into the office. They separate but Greg keeps a hand on his back. His cheeks are flushed, his breath short. He ran to get here.

Sherlock was shocked to see him here and gave Greg a betrayed look. He knows he won't forgive him for this, but he's tired of watching him suffer in silence while John, blind, continues his bullshit.

"I got your message, is everything okay?" He asks while sneaking glances at his hand still on Sherlock's back and their proximity.

Greg stands up with a stern look on his face, and military or not, he thought he saw John take a step back. "You're going to stay in here and not come out until you've talked seriously." And he walked out of the office.

Through the windows of his office, Greg can see what's going on inside. He sees John talking, probably asking what's going on and sees Sherlock deflecting his gaze while saying "nothing". But John doesn't give up and keeps asking. When he sees Sherlock form a complete sentence, Greg decides to leave them alone and goes into the break room.

Several dozen minutes pass before he hears Sherlock's deep voice and John's laughter. He walked out of the room to see the two roommates closer than usual to each other, a peaceful smile on Sherlock's face.

John thanked him profusely, saying that he had no idea and that he was just an idiot. Greg could only nod.

"If it happens again, it won't be a simple message you'll get." Greg threatens. He says it in a joking manner but John understands that there is a serious side to it.

Sherlock says nothing but smiles at him as John takes his hand to lead him out. Greg can only smile back.

(tell me if you wish to be tagged !) @topsyturvy-turtely @missdeliadili @mxster-jocale

#fluffbruary 2023 #fluffbruary #my fics #johnlock #father son relationship #bbc sherlock

9 notes · View notes

mwolf0epsilon · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Day 18: Let's Break the Ice

Prompt: "Just get it over with."

Summary: When it's the medic who needs assistance, then you're most definitely running out of options...

[Nothing quite like cauterizing someone else's wound to really bond with 'em! Ahsoka and Kix might not agree however.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

---

His wound was festering. That much everyone could tell even while visibility was so frustratingly limited. Mostly because they could hear the way that he was shuffling rather than marching evenly. Noticed how much he lagged behind in comparison to the others.

And then there was also the smell...

Infected flesh had a disgustingly distinctly putrid stench to it that was hard to ignore. Just like how one could easily identify the taste of blood in their mouth, the smell of a weepy oozy cut was not one you'd mistake for anything else.

He'd tried to keep it clean, but there was really not much Kix could do to keep the grime and filth of the cave system from getting to it. Especially not when they'd run out of medical supplies weeks prior.

The battles they'd lived through had been tough. Several brothers lost or wounded in the fray, the survivors tended to by the medics to the best of their abilities. But it had been a continuous cycle of death, wounds and supplies slowly draining away. Day after day after day after that.

Kix had gotten hurt not too long after using up the very last roll of bandages on a brother who'd gotten badly shot. Poor kid hadn't survived. Kix might not survive either. Not with how quickly he was deteriorating.

He either found a way to clear out the necrotic tissue or he'd risk death. Because there was no way he'd survive out here without a leg. And he wasn't the only one to understand this.

"There really isn't any way to clean it, is there?" Commander Tano sounded pained as she offered him her canteen, likely hoping that the cold splash of water would alleviate some of the agony of walking on his bad leg.

"I've tried... Went so far as to scrub it down..." It had burnt like hell. He doesn't tell her this. "Infection is spreading too quickly... I need to get rid of the diseased tissue."

"How?"

"Cauterization is an option... Without anesthetic it'll hurt, but losing the leg would be ten times worse in these conditions." It was a grim prospect. "I'd need to heat up a knife..."

"....I have something a little better than a knife... But I've never used it like that before..."

This should have never been something he should ask of their Jetii. Not their general and certainly not their commander. He was the medic. He'd gone through extensive training to be ready for something like this. Commander Tano was still only a youngling.

And yet... And yet...

The pitch black darkness is lit up by a singular plasma green blade. This procedure is a sensitive one. He has the strap of his pack between his teeth and he prepares for the pain.

The others don't spare a glance. They know better than to comment on this. Know how desperate things are if the medic needs to be tended to in such a terribly unorthodox manner.

Ahsoka hesitates. Kix spits out the strap and looks at her pleadingly.

"Just get it over with." He doesn't give her the option to back off. They can't afford to anymore. The strap goes back between his teeth.

His screams are muffled, but the green light illuminates the young Togruta's tears in such a way that it's almost tragically beautiful.

What a cruel galaxy they live in.

#Eps Writes #star wars #the clone wars #whumptober2022 #clone medic kix #ahsoka tano #improvised medical procedure

12 notes · View notes

therealityhelix · 7 months

Text

Shards of the Nexus: A Wet Kitten

Nash was the last one they found, but the first one I wrote about. Go figure. Poor kid really doesn't know what's going on.

Warning for some unpleasant language.

Song: Brother-Kodaline

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

So this was how he died.

Under the fists and boots of a bunch of punks in an alley, after a failed attempt at a mugging.

Well, it was better than an eventual death at home, at the hands of a drunkard father. At least these bastards only wanted to punch him.

He almost didn't feel pain anymore, the first few thudding blows had rung his bell so hard that his vision blurred and his brain rattled. He didn't fight back, he simply didn't have the energy. He hadn't eaten anything today or the day before; that was the reason he'd tried robbing a man in the first place. He hadn't known the man had friends nearby, hadn't known that his reaction to a knife and a riddle would be anger rather than fear. All he could do was curl up into a protective ball and seek a chance at escape.

He heard voices.

“-architecture is very different, but all the street names are the same. Definitely Gotham.”

“Spent a lot of time in the slums, did you?”

“When required.”

“It's not much like mine. So run down.”

“Trust me, my dear boys. This is where we're supposed to be~”

“I am not a chil-”

He screamed. The shrill sound vibrated off the grungy bricks.

“What-?”

“What was that?”

“Down here-is that a child??? Stand away from him, you rowdies!”

He couldn't see clearly, but the voice was a rich, melodic, androgynous song, that rang out in command.

“Back off, bitch.” one of the men threatened. “This doesn't concern you.”

“Well, that was the incorrect answer.” a second voice, deeper, acerbic. “There are penalties for those. Narci, sic 'em.”

A blur of green and a heavy thud. One of the men was gone. The others began shouting, silenced when that same green blur-a young man!-grabbed one of them by the head, smashing his face against the bricks, and the other made a break for the street.

He heard a loud crack, and his assailants were silent.

The man-boy? He seemed not much older than himself-who had saved him, wiped his hands on his sweatpants and crouched next to him.

“Hey, are you hurt?” He asked, his voice soft and airy.

His vision was beginning to clear; he could make out the pale blue eyes, the tight black curls, the green unitard under the cropped tank top. He was beautiful, and frightening in his apparent sincerity.

“I...think I might be. But I don't think anything is broken.”

“Here.” The young man-Narci?-fitted himself gently under his arm, and helped him out of the alley.

“How is he? Do we have a hospital visit on our hands?” The deeper voice, its owner another beautiful young man, though older than the first. He was also all in green, green eyed and dark haired. But his words lanced past the daze.

“No! No hospitals. Please.”

The most ethereal, elfin being he'd ever seen, owner of the first voice stepped in and cupped his chin, looking deeply into his face. He went completely still, mesmerized by piercing peridot eyes, perfect vermilion hair: he could not tell if this person was a man or a woman. Their dress was something he'd seen on the ladies in rich neighborhoods he wasn't welcome in, but their body was more like his. Yet their face was indeterminable.

“Hm. Doesn't appear to be concussed.”

“He says no broken bones.” Narci offered.

“Look at him.” the dark haired one murmured quietly.

All three regarded him with appraising stares, eyes flicking between each other in silent communication.

“Would you be willing to come with us for a little while?” the redhead asked. “You do not have to, but we would look over your wounds in a more secure location. And perhaps speak about something important. You will not be harmed. You have my word on it.”

And somehow, he believed them. He rarely trusted anyone anymore, but there was something so genuine in their tone, that he found himself nodding.

“Then let us be off.”

Dazed by the blows to the head, by the stress and adrenaline, dazzled by the beauty and kindness of strangers, fogged by hunger and confusion, he lost his grip on caution.

“Hey, are you a tranny?”

The redhead stopped walking. He heard a soft 'tch' from the brunette.

“Ah.” the redhead said. “Is that your word? Or is that your father's word?”

Oh no. Oh no, he'd fucked up. Would they now finish what those alley punks had started?

“Sorry!” he amended quickly. This wasn't something he had put study into; if his father caught even a whiff of his curiosity turning in that direction, he'd be dead. His vocabulary was limited to what he'd heard from his father and classmates. “Sorry. I mean cross dresser.”

“Oh dear. Well, let's call this a teaching moment.”

As they continued on, he learned several new things, about 'trans people', and 'gender non-conforming', about 'they' and 'them', and especially about 'genderfluidity'. This person, the Detective, was not man or woman and not neither-'agender', another useful word-but could be one or the other on a sliding scale of constant movement.

It was a fascinating concept; he hadn't ever though that there were so many ways of being. It was something to look into, in secret.

Perhaps that was why Detective was so beautiful. They were all beautiful. He'd never really thought about men like that, or women for that matter, but they really were.

Except...

As the awe and adrenaline ebbed and the pain began making itself known, suspicion seeped in. Why had they bothered helping him? Why had they been passing by at just that moment? This wasn't a very safe part of Gotham to be in, especially not for someone like the Detective. Where were they taking him? What did they want from him?

Why were they dressed like that?

He had a problem, and it was the color green.

Narci wore dark green sweatpants and a cropped black tank top, but underneath was a lime green unitard, decorated with question marks. They looked hand painted. Had he made that? Why?

The brunette, Puzzles, was in jeans, but over his crisp white button down and eye-watering purple tie, he wore a kelly green suit jacket, with a very subtle jacquard pattern that only showed when the light hit right. More question marks.

Even Detective, in their elegant green dress, had question marks; their earrings held a pearl in the golden curl of the mark, and another, dangling pearl as the dot.

And then there was himself, in secondhand thriftstore finds; tan slacks that were too short, shabby sneakers and a dingy shirt. A cheap hat and a badly fitted olive green blazer-remnants of Sunday suits from children long since grown out of them. He had a question mark hatpin which had once belonged to the grumpy old librarian at school, but that didn't matter. It was his now. Part of the new identity he had been toying with.

But he'd kept all that secret. So why did he fit with these people like the bootleg version of a matched set?

“Um...where are we going?” he asked, almost afraid. What if they were trafficking him? What if they were taking him somewhere nice, but decided not to because he asked too many questions? What if they'd been sent by one of his enemies to make him disappear?

He was sure he had enemies. It seemed like everyone he knew hated him at least a little.

“To a good friend.” Detective answered. “He has room, and is very good at keeping secrets.”

If that was meant to be reassuring, it wasn't. That meant they could kidnap him and hold him hostage, and no one would ever know where to find him.

Who was he kidding? He didn't know anyone who would even bother to look.

Should he run? Could he outrun them?

Probably not Narci, who had been keeping a concerned eye on him.

“You look like you're gonna curl up like a leaf and blow away.” Narci whispered. “Don't worry. We'll get you patched up and figure a few things out. Then you can do whatever.”

“What kind of whatever?”

“You know...whatever, whatever.”

“I can leave?”

“Of course, why wouldn't you-ohhhh.” Narci said with a knowing look. “I get it. No, we don't mess with kids. You're fine. We're better than that.” he finished, nose proudly in the air.

Which meant he wasn't, because he really wanted to mess with his classmates, who were technically kids, he supposed. Maybe Narci was older than he looked, and didn't have to deal with vapid, brain dead, bullying, judgmental, clout-chasing, influencer wannabe teenagers five days a week. It was enough to drive anyone with a brain utterly mad. But he'd take care of them all eventually. And the wrung-out, failure adults that neglected or enabled them.

As long as he didn't get killed in an alley, or kidnapped by the Green Patrol.

Like a line of ducklings, they followed the Detective, through a long set of arbitrarily complicated directions, to a section of the old industrial district, partially renovated to cater to Gotham City's night life. Specifically to a refurbished warehouse, freshly painted, with a bright, brand new facade. He stared at the question mark that outlined the door.

This wasn't supposed to be here.

Detective might have thought that taking him along such a complex path would make him get lost, but this was his part of town, and he knew it by heart. And this warehouse didn't exist.

It wasn't a warehouse inside, it was some kind of disco, complete with mirror balls and light up floors, but nothing was turned on at that moment. It was too early in the day for a place like this to be open to the public, and he wouldn't have been allowed in if it was.

There was a row of doors along the far wall of the dance floor, and one opened, three giggling people spilling out. They were all a bit rumpled, groping at each other, and his face went a little warm. It was really obvious what they'd been doing.

The man in the center, unbuttoned and half zipped, noticed them with a start.

“Oops.” he withdrew his arms from around the other twos shoulders, and started trying to tidy himself up. “Hey you two. Looks like we gotta cut this a bit short. I'll be here tomorrow though, if you will.”

They whined a bit, but left anyway, Puzzles sneering at their backs in disgust. The new man wiped lipstick from his face, pausing when his eyes landed on him.

“Well fuck me.” the man said.

“I think you've had enough.” Puzzles said disdainfully.

“No such thing, you smaragdine prude. Now sit down and show me what'cha brought me.”

Detective ushered them all to a cluster of tables while the new man-Swag-got himself in order. He found the name pretty silly in comparison to the rest, but when the man came back all freshened up, he could kinda see it.

He could see other things too. Beyond the artfully messy hairstyle, beyond the glittery vape pen and pirate's treasure worth of earrings, beyond the obnoxious hipster soul patch that screamed 'I am the kind of person you hate!', was the green.

The green, pinstriped vest over a violet dress shirt, and an eye catching pendant dangling front and center. A golden question mark.

Again with the green and the question marks, and they all looked so much better than his poorly fitted blazer and marker-dyed, department store Trilby. What was going on? Who were these people?

'Swag' handed over some simple medical supplies, and sat back while Detective started taking care of his bruises and cuts.

“So, what've we got? Another Eddie Nigma to add to the collection?”

“Nashton.” he muttered.

“What's that?”

“I'm Eddie Nashton. Not Nigma.”

Swag took a pull from his vape.

“A'ight. Nashton it is then. So, been at this long? I sure hope not.”

“No.” he said, sullen. “This was the first time I tried to rob a guy in real life.”

A flicker of gazes, silent communications.

“Not quite what I meant.”

“What comes to mind when I mention the word 'riddle'?” Detective asked.

“We inform without telling,

lead without pulling.

We reveal truth and lies,

information is the prize.”

He rattled it off without even thinking about it. Swag flinched, but Puzzles just cleared his throat.

“Questions. Not too bad, but could use some tightening up, I feel.” Puzzles said. He whirled to face him.

“Wh-! I made that up myself! How?” he demanded.

Puzzles shrugged.

“It's because I'm the Riddler.” Puzzles declared.

The blood drained from his heart and bewilderment flowed in.

“N-no you're not.” he stammered. “You're not. I am.”

“Yes, and I am too.” Puzzles reiterated. “So are they. Sort of. And I suppose he counts as well.”

He gestured dismissively at Swag who shrugged, taking another drag from his pen.

“No. You're not.” Nashton insisted. “No. I made this up. It's mine. None of you can take it from me!”

He was on his feet again, pocket knife in his hand.

“Who sent you? Somebody paid you to fuck with me, right?” he accused. “Who was it?”

“Woah, woah, woah little man...” Swag said gently, hands up in front of him. “You can put that down. Ain't nobody here gonna hurt you.”

“I'm not gonna take it!” he insisted. “Tell me who it was, and I'll just leave. No trouble. But you better tell me!”

“Tell you who hired us?” Puzzles repeated. “You think we're actors?”

“I know you are.”

“Why?” Narci asked, bewilderment on his beautiful face.

“To hurt me! To lure me into a false sense of security and then destroy my plans!”

“All right everyone, let's sit down and think about this logically.” the Detective entreated, calm and composed. “ I assure you, young man, the blade will be unnecessary. Sit, and parlay with us.”

He didn't want to fight. Not really. He was tired, bruised, hungry, scared. He just wanted answers. But he couldn't really trust them, could he?

It felt weird to be the only one standing though. He took a seat.

“Now, let us be rational about this. Mister Nashton, How old are you?”

“...Fifteen.” he grumbled.

Swag let out a low whistle, and stowed his vape in a pocket.

“Hey, I'm not the youngest anymore!” Narci said happily.

“Oh, shut up.” Puzzles snapped. “This is serious.”

“Now, now.” Detective chided them. “Be gentlemen, you two. We are speaking with Mister Nashton now. So. Fifteen. And you are in school, I am assuming?”

“Yeah. Freshman this year. But you guys already know that don't you?”

“I wish to be certain of my information. And you have chosen for yourself, the moniker 'Riddler'.”

“Yes. The only one.” he said firmly.

“And you believe someone has paid us to do you some kind of...mental harm?”

“Yes!”

“All right. So, now that I have all that straight, might I ask why actors would step in to a physical fight to help you?”

“...B-because those thugs were paid too, I bet! You were all in on it!”

“Ah. All right then. So who do you know who would go to such lengths?”

“Anyone!” he exclaimed. “I have enemies. Everyone is my enemy. They all hate me, I already know it.”

Again, that flickering of glances, communications that he couldn't hear. He bristled, almost leaping out of his seat again.

“Cut that out! If you've got something to say, then just say it!”

Puzzled opened his mouth. Detective laid a hand on his shoulder. Puzzles shut his mouth and flicked their hand away.

“So you feel there are many who might do something so extreme. All right, let's narrow things down then. Who do you know that might be able to afford seven actors, three of whom would take on the task of physically assaulting you? A face like mine does not come cheap, I assure you.”

“Nor a body like mine!” Narci said proudly.

“Yes. So, do you know anyone with that kind of money?”

He faltered. That...that was tricky. He knew his neighborhood was a slum. He knew everyone there was poor, as well as all of his classmates and teachers, and everyone he knew really.

But if they pooled their resources...

“How many people do you think can keep a secret at one time? Especially from someone like you?” Detective asked, miles ahead of him.

That was a deadly question. His classmates were idiotic blabbermouths and braggarts. They couldn't keep quiet about anything. No, it couldn't have been any of them. The teachers, perhaps?

But they already had the power to humiliate him. They used it all the time.

His father?

No.

His father was too stupid to come up with this.

“I can see you are working through this quite swiftly.” Detective said. “I would expect nothing less from someone who called themselves the Riddler. Does anyone else know that name?”

“They aren't supposed to.” he admitted. “I haven't really done anything with it yet. It's my other self.”

“So there would be no way for any of us to know. Unless of course, something bigger was going on.”

“What do you mean?”

Detective gestured around them.

“Do you know this place? Is it familiar?”

“No.” Nash said. “It's gotta be brand new. I've never seen it before and I live around here, so I would kno-”

He clamped his mouth shut. He shouldn't tell them where he lived!

Detective leaned forward, and he saw slyness in those elegant eyes.

“How would you like to know something that no one else in this world knows~” Detective asked, their voice a lilting temptation.

He shouldn't. He should not. There was no one he could trust.

But if that was true...

Then what did he have to lose?

#shards of the nexus #riddler family #swag!riddler #detective!riddler #puzzles!riddler #nash!riddler #narci!riddler

4 notes · View notes

blushing-starker · 3 years

Text

Hard to get, easy to keep

for the amazing @starkerfestivals kinktober prompts. I did lingerie, candy kink and just the tip. nsfw starker, dirty talk, pete's nineteen here but he enthusiastically consents, praise kink, slight feminization, blow jobs, referenced fingering and handjobs. you know, just a normal day writing porn with feels as one does ;)

p.s i might make this a series, but that depends on the feedback and work

-----

He's not even sure how it happens. Or, you know, what it is that happens. It was supposed to be simple; young reporter for The Daily Bugle wanted an interview. Ok, yeah, that's normal. Tony has ten reporters that circle him like vultures whenever he steps out of his mansion. The difference was the kid they sent him, because, by the way, he's a kid. Nineteen years old. Still in high school. Happy nearly had a heart attack when he first saw the kid. Anyway, difference is that this kid is beautiful.

Now, before you get your pitchforks out, Tony knows it's objectively wrong to do a double take in the middle of a party he's hosting because of a child. He also knows he's a Stark and when has a Stark not tempted fate? Or the police? Exactly, so he figured, fine, let the kid have his fifteen minutes of Tony Stark and he can have fifteen minutes of internally debating the pros and cons of fucking someone that's not even twenty years old yet.

But then Rhodey proposes to Pepper and what is he going to do, coax a kid into his bed while his best friends get engaged? No. Obviously. Unfortunately. So he tells Happy to plan a rain check. Poor kid went to Miami when he lives in Queens; he deserves a rain check and a flight in Tony's jet for when he gets back. Great, they schedule a meeting in Miami in two weeks.

Obadiah Stane attempts to form a coup, steal the company and ruin Rhodey's and Pepper's engagement party on the same day. Alrighty, an online meeting, then.

Peter has finals on the day they set out and can't be excused. Yet another painful reminder that he's lusting after a school boy still in puberty.

Tony Stark says fuck it like Tony Stark usually does and goes to New York.

Drops by the kid's apartment, woos the aunt and bam. Peter's luggage is ready by the time the kid comes stumbling home, arms bravely trying to carry what looks like a million magazines, journals, newspapers and printed articles. All about him. When they lock eyes, every single sheet of paper gets dumped on the living room couch.

"Hey, kiddo. Figured I'd bring myself to Queens for our interview, meet the famous aunt and wait for you here. But then May tells me you've had a rough week, so you and I are going on a road trip. My family has a cabin up north, just a couple hours from here. We can do your interview and discuss an internship at the company on the way there. Stark Industries is always looking for young talent and May and I agree: you've got talent, Pete."

May basically throws her nephew out of the apartment after making him promise to take this opportunity and have fun. They're on the highway five minutes later.

-----

Still feel like he only wants to fuck the kid? Well, he does want to fuck the kid, but Tony Stark doesn't sleep with stupid people. He's read all of Peter's articles from the Bugle, his essays from the high school newspaper and some of his work for his classes. It wasn't that hard to break into Midtown; Jarvis actually scoffed when Tony asked him to get into such a simple system.

The kid is clever, sarcastic, sharp and undeniably talented. A little rough around the edges, but who isn't at that age? If the kid doesn't want what he's offering, that's ok. If he only wants the internship, done deal. Tony's morals may be a bit sketchy, but he's not so sketchy he's going to force himself onto a kid.

And you know what? Sleeping with Peter is in the back of his mind during the first half of the ride. His questions aren't offensive or blunt, but they sure as hell don't beat around the bush. Tony actually has to pause and consider some of them a bit more deeply before answering. The whiskey helps with the unexpected case of nerves (him, nervous about flirting? His dad would keel over if he were alive.) and soon enough they're done with the prompt questions and improvising.

"At the party, the one in Miami, I saw Miss Potts getting engaged with Mr Rhodes. That must be very exciting, something to look forward to after everything that's happened. Do you think it'll help with morale, planning a wedding? If the company is getting involved."

Tony narrows his eyes at the kid, can't quite figure out his line of questioning. He takes a sip of his drink and reclines back in his seat.

"Honestly, we haven't discussed the idea of the company officially getting involved with the wedding. Pep, as you know, is a very serious CEO and I doubt she'd want to make that move. She's the type of person that would think of it as taking advantage of her job and the company's resources. Obviously, I'm going to go behind their backs and plan a few surprises. With my family money, though. Everyone loves Pep, but she'd feel uncomfortable if I intervened with the company name. I can respect that. There's no way in hell I'm letting them honeymoon in the United States, though. I will forcibly put them on a plane to Europe for that, if I have to."

Peter laughs and Jesus, that sound shouldn't be so pleasing to hear. " I look forward to taking those pictures, Mr Stark. I'm sure they'll be hilarious."

"Taking the pictures?"

"Oh, yeah! I got promoted to a photo journalist. The interview with you was scheduled before the change, though, so you don't have to worry about that."

And look at that, thoughtful, too. Tony hates paparazzi. "I appreciate that, Peter. Just for that, I'll give you the pictures for free."

He will. He's a Stark; the Bugle couldn't buy them even if they had the same budget as the Times.

Peter fidgets, toys with his glasses. Tony has the sudden urge to paint them white, watch as Peter blinks up at him from the floor and asks him, ever so nicely, if he could please remove them so he could lick Tony's dick clean without having them in the way. Tony downs his drink in one go and tries to remember how a Holy Mary prayer goes.

"You know, I was a bit surprised when I saw the engagement. I thought you were, um, involved with them. I mean, one of them, not the two of them together. That would be, not bad, obviously. Just unexpected, I guess? I hadn't thought of them as that type of couple in that ... context."

The words are out of his mouth before he can properly process them and he's never been more grateful to Pepper for suggesting he get a sound proof backseat.

"So you've thought of me, in that context?" Peter goes pink. Hello Kitty pink. Like, as pink as the goddamn Pink store. Strawberry ice cream pink. Peter wearing pink lingerie and drenched in strawberry ice cream, lollipop between pretty pink cupid bow's lips and Sweethearts littered over a flushed body.

Yes, he has a fucking candy kink; blame Jarvis 1.0 for not letting him steal sweets from his mom's hidden jar in the kitchen.

Still, that was bad, Tony. Bad, bad, possibly expensive sexual harassment lawsuit bad.

"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate-"

"No, I shouldn't have asked like that-"

"That wasn't even in the top ten worst questions reporters have asked me-"

"That doesn't mean I can ask something private like that-"

"It's fine, really, Pete-"

"I mean, if I did ask something private, it'd be only fair you ask me something, too-"

"Uh, not really, since you're a teenage reporter-"

"I'm nineteen-"

"That's not exactly a great card to throw, kid-"

"It's true, though! I'm an adult-"

"I shouldn't have asked that either way, Peter-"

"But it's true. I have. Thought of you. In that context. Often."

Great. Now Tony's going pink.

"I'm going to ask you something, Peter. You can not answer and we'll pretend this latter half of the ride never happened; your internship intact and your job done for the paper."

Peter bites his lip, peers up at him tentatively. Tony needs a bottle of whiskey right about now. "Or?"

"Or you answer truthfully. Your choice. I'm good either way, ok? I need to know you understand that one or the other, you have a choice in this, alright."

"I understand."

"You do? Say it back to me."

The kid's breathing hitches. Like something out of the romance novels Jarvis' wife used to read in the living room while Tony tinkered with DUM-E. Like Peter enjoys Tony telling him what to do. The same way Tony enjoys telling him what to do.

The hole is just getting bigger and bigger and he hasn't stopped digging, huh?

"I can not answer and there won't be any repercussions."

"Good. Nice use of vocabulary. Keep going."

"My internship will be ok and I'll have enough material for the Bugle. Or I can answer honestly. I have a choice in both."

"Fantastic job, Peter," he shivers, actually shivers, Jesus Christ on a bike, "now the question. When you were in Miami, were you already thinking of me in that context?"

He's expecting a punch. Maybe a slap, the kid looks more like a damsel in distress type and no, no, absolutely not going down the road of a roleplay starring shy, virginal princess Peter and rogue bard Tony desperately seeking to discover what's under long gowns.

(Peter in a pink cheerleading outfit, blushing wildly and gently licking him like a kitten, a bit awkward but determined to distract his boyfriend during a pregame ritual.)

(Peter wrapped in pretty bows and sheer lace, rose petals in his hair and hickies all over. Soft handcuffs pining his hands to the headboard, but legs free to scramble over silk sheets as the big bad wolf eats him up. His cute dick, who is he kidding, of course the kid has a cute cock, trapped in a metal cage and the key tucked away in Tony's garage. Laid down like a feast for Tony to devour.)

(Peter with maple syrup running down a pale chest, whiskey pooling in the dips of his hips, cotton candy melting over toned thighs and caramel drizzled over such beautiful lips.)

(PeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeterPeter)

Tony snaps out of it and steals two bottles of water from the mini-fridge, gives one to Peter.

They chug them down, both of them flustered and looking away. "I was. I was actually planning on doing something about it, but with the engagement and then my finals. I figured I lost my chance."

"And the extremely high age gap doesn't bother you?"

Peter shrugs, pushes his glasses up his nose. "I'm an adult. I'm still in high school because we moved to New York and the school decided I had to repeat a grade. I have my own income, I'm already getting scholarship offers from a few colleges. Yeah, somethings are bound to be different, but that doesn't really change my feelings. Honestly? I thought, if I'm going to have my first one night stand-"

"Might as well be with Tony Stark?"

"No, might as well be with someone who's not going to talk about it to the entire school and who takes it seriously. I've had friends who've dated a classmate and it never ends well."

"So, you want sex. With me."

"I'd, I'd like to try having more than sex with you. But, I mean, if it's just sex on the table, then yeah, definitely. Absolutely, Mr Stark."

"Ok."

"Ok? That's it?"

"Kid, if I think about it too hard, I'm going to stop the car and then ask Happy to hit me with the bat we keep in the trunk. Do you consent to sex and will you stop me if anything is uncomfortable?"

"I do."

"Great. I'm thinking sex first and then we give dating a try, how's that sound?"

"Um, yeah. I'm not really sure this isn't a dream."

"Oh, me neither. I stopped believing this is happening when you asked me about Pep and Rhodes."

-----

"Now that my timeline is clear and my conscience feels less like a train wreck, when are we going to stop this hard to get dance, Parker?"

Tony delights in the way the kid's eyes widen, how he visibly flushes when they literally just finished talking about this five minutes ago.

(They took a break. Stopped the car, stretched. Tony screamed into Happy's shoulder. Peter laid down and stared at the sky. Happy sighed and called Pepper to let her know they'd need to keep away the nosy reporters for a while. They all collectively decided to ignore each other while trudging back inside the car. It's fine, Peter's fine, he's fine. It's fine.)

"How about now?" It's the most tentative question Tony has been asked and a little girl once asked him if he was going to become her new daddy the morning after he broke her mom's bed.

"Yeah, you know what? I completely agree."

Tony takes off his sunglasses, makes sure the carpet on the car floor isn't too dirty. These are tailored pants, after all.

"You know you can always say no, right?"

"I do, Mr Stark." Tony smiles, can't believe this kid landed on his lap.

"Unless it's a thing for you, you can call me Tony, Pete."

That cute blush again. God, that's going on his spank bank for the rest of his life. "I, um, I think it's a thing. If that's ok with you?"

"I can definitely get used to it. Now do me a favor, Pete," the kid looks at him, eyes big and body leaning forward like he's desperate to follow orders," spread your legs for me, honey." Peter's legs nearly reach the doors at their sides and Tony thanks whatever god made it so that his new lover is flexible as an acrobat.

"I was a gymnast when I was small."

The smirk on Tony's face could raise the dead, "Of course you were, Peter." He carefully unzips black jeans, lowers them down hips he wants to bite and freezes.

"Peter, are you wearing boxer-briefs with my name on them?" They say STARK in bold letters, gold stitching bright against the black, tight fitting fabric. It, uh, does something to him, he won't lie.

"Oh, I forgot I had them on today. To be fair, you make really comfy underwear. My best friends got them for me as a birthday gift."

"Uh huh, sure. Can you lift your shirt up, please?"

"..."

"Peter?"

"I swear I didn't plan this."

"Right. Thing is, I know this particular set. The bottoms aren't that different from what you can get at Target, or Walmart. They're normal, really. The only difference is the quality of fabric and the stitching. The top, though. The top, if I'm not mistaken, which I'm not," Tony slides his hands below Peter's shirt and drags blunt nails up a warm chest until they catch on something, grins like he just won the lottery, "is a lace halter top bralette. I know because I helped make lace this sturdy and soft.

"Peter Parker, are you wearing Stark lingerie?" It is possible that the kid's glasses fog up. It is possible that it gets him hard.

"Maybe."

"Kid, I'm gonna eat you up."

Leaving behind the top half, Tony focuses on rolling down black underwear. He moans. Actually moans when he sees Peter's dick.

It's long and thin, just like the kid. As rosy as his cheeks, too. "Such a pretty pink cock and it's all for me. Do you think you'd taste like candy if I gave some Sweethearts or ice cream? Don't answer that, I'm sure you taste sweet anyway."

Peter jolts and precum dribbles from his cock. Huh. Add dirty talk to the list then.

"Mr Stark, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He hasn't even touched the kid and already his voice is cracked and shaky.

It's a very big turn on.

"Think you can last enough for me to get a good taste of this pretty thing?" Another jolt, another drop of pearly cum spills. Oh, he's going to have so much fun with Peter.

"No."

"Hmm. What if I just lick and don't actually suck? Mind you, there isn't a limit, kid. If you wanna spill inside my mouth and then come again, I don't know, between my thighs or, " Peter whines, hips flexing erratically and lip bitten red like a cherry, "I am absolutely down for that."

"I usually get, um, you know."

"Pete, I don't know."

The kid drops his head, squirms in his seat. "I get really wet and sometimes I come a lot. Many times. In one go." He winces, probably thinks Tony is going to throw him out of the car.

"Parker, look at me. None of what you just said is a bad thing. I am even more determined to get my mouth on that gorgeous dick of yours. Would you like that?"

A nod.

"Use your words, baby."

Pink again. "Yes, Mr Stark."

Shit, now he's going to have to ask Pep to call him something else. "Good boy." Peter wraps a tight hand around himself and groans, body curling over Tony's head.

"Please, please, Mr Stark. I won't last long."

"Excellent." Tony leans down and finds out that Peter Parker does, in fact, taste like candy.

---------

When they arrive at the cabin, Tony has to pry Peter away from the sticky seat. Happy opens the door to the place, does not look at either of them, does not breathe while they're close and then sits down on the front steps, taking out his first cigarette of the month.

Tony hums as Peter wakes up, happy to carry him all the way to the master bathroom.

"How long was I out for?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"And where are we going now?"

"I am drawing you a bath so we can rinse you off and get you clean."

Peter blushes and hides his face in the crook of Tony's neck. It's fucking adorable.

"I don't need a shower; I didn't come that much."

His leather seats beg to differ. The entire car is gonna have to be washed just to get the smell out. "You came three times."

"No, I didn't it."

"Right. So you didn't come in my mouth; glorious experience, by the way. You taste like sugar. You didn't come with just the tip of my fingers in your ass-"

"I asked you to-"

"To fuck you in the back of a moving car with my sizable dick. No way I was gonna do that, especially when I didn't know how much you could handle."

"I said just the tip."

"See, I wanna know why you're pouting because that same pretty jaw of yours dropped when it was just my fingers. Oh, and then you didn't come thanks to my amazing hands."

"I never said they were amazing."

"No, you said 'oh my god, let's do that again.' And I said not until you have a shower and some food. Now, are you going to be a good boy and be easy to hold during the bath?"

Peter blinks at him, hesitatingly shrugs. "What, you don't think I'm joining you?" The smile that gets him is enough to convince Tony that yeah, Peter's going to be easy to hold onto in and out of the bath.

#starkerfestival #starkerfestivalsevents #starker nff #starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker #tony x peter #reporter!peter #no powers!au #no iron man either #my gifs #my writing #starker dirty talk #tagging like that so tumblr doesnt delete it #starker lingerie #starker blowjobs

427 notes · View notes

kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎.

thank you so much to @daisy-bakugo for letting me participate in her vice city collab! i had a blast writing this piece, and i’m terribly sorry this is so long that was a mistake (and congrats on 2k!!) also, the phattest of thank you’s to @eijishimas for brainstorming/beta-ing :) you saved me ☺🤲🏼

katsuki bakugou and eijirou kirishima | f!reader, time travel sex, guns, prostitute/stripper idrk!reader, tw!blood (non-descriptive), dacryphilia, squirting, spit roasting, d-penn, shower sex, multiple rounds. minors dni!

— 5k words (yikes)

"Say, Sweetheart. You wanna get outta here?"

Las Vegas, Nevada. April 15th, Year 3036.

"You ready?"

Mina shoots you a look through the golden-lit mirror, wiggling her eyebrows. You roll your eyes and finish dusting the powder off your cheeks before rising to your feet and tugging at the belt of your silk robe. "My answer's the same every night."

Vice City. A strip club and casino in Las Vegas, Nevada, where opposites collide—the poor and the rich, the beautiful and the ugly, the smart and the stupid. There's no judgment because here, they're all degenerates looking for a good time, and you're just a pretty face with a good body.

As your silk robe hits the floor, it's kicked to the side with a heel, and you saunter through the beaded entrance to your private room and into the vibrating club. Giving your bodyguard a solid pat on the shoulder as you watch the sea of bodies shake, you complete the ritual.

"No creeps?" You demand more than request. He nods curtly.

"No creeps."

You give him a cute little smile and let your hand linger for a little longer than necessary before stepping into the neon red chaos of the strip club. Because what do the rich and the poor have in common?

They're all addicts.

Surprisingly, humanity doesn’t kill the planet.

Mother Nature's still standing strong—though the sun is a bit swollen—and space exploration solved that overpopulation issue. Bill Gates taught us all how to avoid a climate disaster and Tesla put Ford out of business. Humanity is much bigger than earth now; we're no longer people of the planet, but an intergalactic species that still eat Costco pizza rolls for dinner but killed Cable along with cars with wheels. Costco still exists—Starbucks doesn't.

Still no aliens, though.

"See something you like, Cutie?"

In your defense, he's been standing over here with his friends for ages—almost like they're casing the damn place—but those ruby red eyes kept floating your way regardless, and you'd rather bag it with someone your age before you're requested by another seventy-year-old. The redhead blinks like he's shocked you came over here in the first place—like he didn't watch you sashay yourself to the other side of the club just for him. You suppose the name fits. Cutie.

He looks at you with a strangely giddy look on his face before he's licking his lips and swallowing, eyes flickering to the blondie to his right.

"I'll be back in like, twenty minutes, man."

The blond gives him an exasperated look and groans—his other two friends don't notice. "Eiji—"

"Twenty minutes!" The redhead yells over the music as you not-so-subtly pull him away. Your regular GILF looks your way, and you suppress the queasy feeling in knowing that at least you'll be able to fuck someone from your decade.

"You got a wallet, Cutie?" You purr as you two approach the back room. The redhead winks, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the fattest black leather wallet you've seen in a long time.

"Don't go anywhere without it," he says, but falters when your bodyguard holds his hand out with a request for fifty bucks. "I—whoa dude, why am I paying you?"

"Because that's how it goes. The young lady gets her share," your bodyguard clarifies. The redhead looks at you for what seems to be for confirmation. You nod.

"Alright," he resigns with a shrug, stuffing a fifty into your bodyguard's sweaty hand. The man grunts but clears some of the beads guarding the entrance to your private room anyways, giving you two enough space to go inside.

"No door? That seems a little...exposing," the redhead snorts to himself before he's holding his hand out, despite the fact that you’re already nestling comfortably in his lap. "Eijirou, by the way."

You take his hand apprehensively, and he snorts at your confused frown. Eijirou's big—painfully so, and you feel small sat upon his thick thighs because you are in comparison—and he has to curve his back a bit so you're at eye-level. "What? No one's introduced themselves to you before?"

You shake your head, "Usually they just throw me onto the bed and get right to it."

Eijirou rolls his eyes at that, and you don't realize he's guiding your hips into a smooth roll until the harsh fabric of his jeans brushes against you in the best way. He moves you in time with the music vibrating the walls, "I guess that makes me more of a gentleman, then."

His lips hover over yours and yet he never advances, doesn't move to kiss you on the lips, nothing—it nearly has you buzzing. So does the hand he pins you to his lap with. "Are you going to kiss me or what?"

"What's your name, Sweetheart," he asks lowly. You give it to him, and he grins.

"Y/N,” Eijirou tries on his lips before he confirms it with a nod. "A pretty name for a pretty girl."

"Aren't you the flatterer," you purr, coiling your arms around your neck. His hand finds your ass and you're almost positive he's going to close the gap between you two until he says:

"Who were you runnin' from, Y/N?”

Years in the business help build a mask and you wear yours well, with that cute little smile as you cock your head to the side and ask, "I'm afraid I'm not following."

"Oh, I think you are," he says, looking you dead in the eyes. The gravity in his face doesn't falter. "Who was it."

As he stares into your soul, your own eyes avert to the sheets. "What's it to you?"

"It's nothing to me, really," he shrugs off his jacket and places it on the bed next to him before returning to his initial position—or perhaps, closer. "But I happen to find you real cute, and cute things deserve to feel safe, no?"

"In case you haven't checked, this isn't a very safe place," you scoff, removing your arms from his neck to cross them over your chest. "And I don't appreciate idiots like you trying to save someone like me just 'cause you wanna get your dick wet more than once."

Eijirou raises an eyebrow but he never stalls, "Oh? This happens often then?"

"I—" you falter, "...No."

"C'mon, Sweetheart," Eijirou tugs you by the waist and you have to press your hands to his chest to keep him from falling forwards. "You don't wanna stay in this place, do you?"

"It's my job," you defend with a huff. The redhead shrugs.

"Sure, but don't you want a little adventure? A little excitement in your life?"

"Like there isn't enough excitement right here?" You snort. Eijirou teeters his head back and forth, though the daring look never fades.

"But something tells me you're bored," he says with a near sarcastic face, clicking his tongue. "Something tells me you find the idea of something new exciting."

You open your mouth to respond but he keeps you from doing so, finally pressing his lips to yours. You nearly squeal in surprise but somehow, you find yourself kissing back with a passion you've never kissed another client with before—and maybe, just maybe, the idea of something new doesn't sound too bad.

Eijirou pulls away with a cocky grin like he knew you'd like it. Like he knew that'd be the catalyst for your response to what he says next, and maybe, he's not as much of an idiot as you thought.

And maybe you’re more of an idiot than you thought.

"Say, Sweetheart. You wanna get outta here?"

"Yes," you breathe, like an idiot, because you were wholly and utterly unprepared for what happens next.

Eijirou gives you the cutest smile, before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a gun.

He sees your expression change and lifts both hands, pointing the black pistol towards the ceiling, "I—hey wait, you're gonna be fine, okay? I won't shoot you."

You cower and he pouts. Apparently, this wasn't the reaction he was expecting at all.

"I swear! I'm mentally stable, see?" He flips it sideways with a grin, "the safety's on."

You hate it that his comment makes you trust him. Slightly.

"C'mon," Eijirou smiles, reaching his gunless hand out for you to take. You do, albeit reluctantly. "I won't do anything too stupid. Just...shake things up a bit."

Shake things up a bit, Eijirou says, and yet the first thing he does is when you two exit the room is press the pistol to your bodyguard’s head.

"Eijirou," you hiss. Luckily no one in the club has noticed, yet, but you doubt their ignorance will last for long.

"I'm gonna need my fifty back, buddy," Eijirou pats the man on the back, and it's strange—you've always thought your bodyguard to be a big guy, but he looks rather petite next to the redhead. Your bodyguard reaches for his walkie-talkie, but Eijirou tuts, tapping his hand away with the tip of his gun.

"Hey dude, I'm not gonna shoot you. See? The safety's on," He repeats, flashing the barrel. Your bodyguard's eyes widen, and so do yours.

The safety isn't on.

"So, that fifty," Eijirou purrs, and your bodyguard stuffs the bill into his chest with a grumble. Eijirou hums, satisfied, and gives the crumpled bill to you without a second glance, too busy nodding to his friend on the other side of the strip club. A noirette from across the way nods back.

Pop-pop!

It's fucking chaos, as anyone would expect when blindly firing into a crowded club. Eijirou keeps a tight hold on your hand as he and his other three boys storm towards the pit bosses working the casinos with guns a-blazing, demanding they fill their pillowcases like a bunch of C-class thugs.

What the fuck did you get yourself into.

"This is not what I meant by excitement," you hiss through grit teeth as a terrified pit boss fills Eijirou's bag like he's a greedy kid with an attitude on Halloween, while your co-workers cower under the bar and pool tables. Eijirou sticks his tongue your way.

"This isn't the exciting part, Little Miss Excitement."

It's the steady sound of sirens that has your eyes widening, and the fact that you're positive they're getting louder. You catch sight of your bodyguard on his walkie-talkie, big body cowering behind the smallest trashcan, and turn back just in time to see Eijirou squint as he aims and shoots bullseye.

"That is."

The police have lost sight of two vehicles carrying the four armed men who robbed Vice City Casino and Club tonight at roughly 2:53 am. Witnesses say they came in a group of four but left with an exotic dancer named—

The moment the blondie from the club sees you walk through the door, he’s tossing the stack of bills in his hand with a sigh.

"Katsuki, Y/N. Y/N, Katsuki."

Katsuki looks nothing but happy, and refuses to acknowledge your presence as he crosses his arms.

"Ei. What the hell did we say about witnesses."

"Um," the redhead rubs his lips together before wearily looking at you, and you hike his jacket further up your shoulder. At least he was decent enough to give you that. She's an exception?"

"Not a fuckin' thing," the blond grunts, turning to you to flash a tight smile. "Goodbye."

"I—wait," Eijirou skates until he's stood over the ash-blond, with a hand on his shoulder and the other braced against the table. Speaking in a quieter voice, he says, "C'mon man. The poor thing was practically begging to get outta there."

The ash-blond does nothing but sigh before shoving a palm into a pile of money to push himself into the kitchen—and subsequently further away from you.

"She's gonna call the cops," Katsuki grunts wearily from the island, eyes narrowed. Eijirou follows.

"She's not gonna call the cops, dude," the redhead scoffs at the outlandish idea. "You heard the radio! At this point, she's as deep in it as we are."

As they continue to go back and forth over the island, you let your eyes wander. It’s a penthouse, and rather homely, with near egg yolk lighting, high walls, and big windows. You can't help but think about how you're in a strangely expensive part of the city before remembering this evening's events. No wonder they can afford such a nice place.

You find yourself smiling at a particular corner with a frustrating amount of photos stuffed on a little glass table, one that contains a selfie of the two housemates in high school uniforms. There's a ring sat in front of it, one that glints gold when you hold it up to your face, and if you squint you can see little flecks of green in the red of the ruby. It looks scarily close to an engagement ring.

"Hey, what's this?"

Both of their eyes rocket from the conversation to see you slip the delicate thing onto your ring finger.

"Don't touch it!" Eijirou tenses before realizing it's much too late for that. "Er—at least don't twist the top."

"The...top?" You ask, lifting your hand until it's at eye level.

"Yeah like, the jewel thingy," the redhead gestures to the ruby—and you can't stop thinking about how it's almost the same color as his hair. Waddling into the kitchen with your eye still trained on the thing, you ask:

"What is it?"

"A time-travel device," the ash-blond grunts. Eyes still full of suspicion, he watches you and the redhead interact over the island with arms crossed over his chest and reclining against the sink. You frown.

"Aren't those usually...bigger?" Because even though it's 3036, time-travel is still fairly new (space exploration took a long time, okay) and all the machines you've seen are at least the size of a shower. And yet, this one can sit on your pinky.

"Kats has been working on some stuff," Eijirou beams and it edges on proud; you notice the ash-blond near blushes with a huff as you hop to sit on the marble counter.

"'S nothin'."

You stare at the thing in faint amazement, and Katsuki kicks off the sink to near the island. Lifting an eyebrow, you say, "You know you could get rich off something like this? Instead of robbing strip clubs for a living.”

The ash-blond scoffs, and you wonder if someone else has told him that before. "If I gave that to the public, I have no fuckin' clue what they'd do with that shit."

And you shrug, supposing he's right—time-travel devices are hard to get your hands on, and that's for a reason. If everyone starts jumping around in the time-space continuum, fucking with shit, the world will promptly and utterly collapse. Sounds fun, doesn't it?

"It doesn't work with a big time range," Katsuki defends with a shrug, sliding his forearms on the counter. "The most it can do is a few hours"

"Not that it makes this any less cool," Eijirou says with a slight bounce. "I personally think it's really fun to play with."

Katsuki rolls his eyes. "That's 'cause you use it to fuck."

You nearly choke.

"I—what?"

"W-Well, okay," Eijirou chuckles sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "But also other stuff! Like when I'm really hungry, I might go to the future and take some of my fries. Future me's fries, that is."

"Or you'll try to take future-me’s goddamn burger," Katsuki growls. You flip the ring over like there's anything left to see.

"How often do you use it?"

"Nightly," Katsuki answers for him. Your eyebrows lift. Oh wow.

"It—it's not nightly," Eijirou defends weakly, huffing and puffing. "Weekly maybe, but—"

"Almost every night," Katsuki sums for him, giving you a little grin. You snort back before your eyes drop to the ring again.

"Uh oh," the redhead almost gasps, fingers thrumming on the island on either side of your being, "She's thinkin' about it."

"I'm not thinking about it," you huff, though your eyes never leave the ring. It's an...interesting prospect.

"Oh, you're totally thinking about it," Katsuki grunts, and you struggle to find where his enthusiasm came from. What happened to goodbye?

"C'mon," Eijirou tempts with a casual toss of the head. He touches your shoulder—Katsuki touches the other. "See what happens."

"What if—" you stare at the ring with pursed lips, fingers grabbing the ruby. "What if it's random? Or if we're not where we expect to be in a few hours or something."

Eijirou shrugs. "It's always a gamble, but that's where the fun is, no?"

You look down at the thing with a sigh. You suppose.

In one quick move, you twist the gem and screw your eyes shut. At first, you feel nothing, but then there's a sudden head rush, and you can easily see how someone can get addicted to this.

You hear a faint sound, one that could be excused as a rush of wind past your ears, before you feel your knees against a hard surface and your body in a different position.

"Oh, I like this much better."

You open to your eyes to a much different sight than you closed them to.

Katsuki and Eijirou look gargantuan when you’re on your knees, your back flush against the refrigerator and eyes watering due to the cock nestled halfway down your throat. You choke in surprise from the sensation, hands rushing to keep Katsuki from cutting your oxygen supply off for good as Eijirou stands impatient, cock hard in his hand and drooling for attention.

"F-Fuck," the ash-blond wheezes, seemingly just as taken aback from the position as you are. "Your mouth is fuckin' heaven."

"C'mon Sweetheart, don't ignore me now," EIjirou purrs, chuckling as the head of his cock hits your cheek with a wet slap. "At least give me a little something."

You grab his cock harder than you would've out of slight indignance, grinning around the other when it makes him hiss; Eijirou joins Katsuki in resting a hand on the fridge door for purchase.

You weren't the best at Vice City for nothing, after all.

"Shit, loosen that grip a little, will ya?" Eijirou wheezes—you don't listen, and his chest shudders when you seem to only move faster.

"'M too fuckin' close, where's that ring," Katsuki blabbers more than he grunts, and you lift your hand just in time for him to twist the jewel again, sending you three rocketing into the past.

You cough and splutter atop the kitchen island, chest heaving as you finally get the air Katsuki's cock allows. The head rush definitely doesn't help, and you find yourself getting dizzy enough to grab for someone's hand.

"Breathe, Princess," Katsuki says, and Eijirou lifts your hand to his chest so yours can rise and fall with his.

"So that's," you wheeze once you're able to get some semblance of a breath back. "That's time travel sex, huh?"

"Yeah," Eijirou says, a little breathless himself. "Addictive, right?"

"A little," you giggle, and find yourself looking for the ring again. Katsuki snorts.

"What, you wanna go back or somethin'?"

You flush red, eyes darting to the walls guilty, "A little bi—wah!"

There's a rush and the room morphs again. You would’ve fallen headfirst into a set of white sheets if it weren’t for the fact that you’re sat on Eijirou’s face.

"Hello beautiful~" the redhead singsongs from below, and you can't help but notice your bra is MIA as Katsuki takes a seat behind

you to run his hands up your sides to put the underside of your breasts.

"Pervert," you snort, though you figure you’re just as bad as he is with two of Eijirou's fingers deep in your pussy and Katsuki's hand on your clit. The redhead's leaving hickey after hickey on your inner thighs and you just try your damnest to not fall.

"Only for you," Eijirou winks cheekily, scissoring his fingers, and your hips stutter against his face when he slides his tongue in between.

"Fuckin' love the sounds you make," Katsuki grunts, before his other hand finds your neck and tightens. "And fuck you're so goddamn wet—you love this, don't you?"

You keen with a nod (and suppress the urge to say no shit, Sherlock), and Katsuki's pinching your clit between his two fingers, licking a fat stripe up your neck and chuckling when you shiver.

"What, your clients don't make you feel this good, Sweetheart?" Eijirou practically moans into your cunt, eyebrows folding when you thread your fingers through his hair and yank. "Bet that fifty was worth it, wasn't it?"

"Y-Yeah I—" you whimper, unable to get a sentence past your shuddering chest. "Guys, I'm gonna—"

The bedroom melts back into the kitchen, you're back in Eijirou’s jacket and not sat on his face. Your thighs and neck are hickey-less and yet, you're still so fucking horny.

"I hate you," you seethe, almost immediately, and Eijirou's grin is so wide it bends his eyes.

"Awe, you love me," he giggles and your frown only deepens as you reach for the ring—Katsuki snatches it out of arms way with a tut.

"Ah ah Princess, don't be greedy now," he purrs, but you couldn't give a shit about being greedy, and it shows in the way you quickly grab for it again. Katsuki passes the ring to Eijirou and it easily becomes a game of monkey in the middle.

"Give it—"

"I don't think so, Sweetheart," Eijirou says, pressing a big hand to your face to keep you from going any further. With a smirk, the redhead twists the ring, and suddenly you're full of him on the kitchen counter.

"Fuck baby, you're so tight," he curses behind grit teeth, sweat practically dripping off his shoulders in rivulets as he pushes your face into the kitchen island so hard it's numb. So are your knees. "You're so pretty like this—shit—"

You barely have the room to whimper, let alone answer, and you find Katsuki perched on the opposite counter, weeping cock in hand. The redhead chuckles as you struggle to take all of him, hips squirming as he aims for places you've never been able to hit on your own. "I'd stick your tongue back in your mouth if I were you, Sweetheart. The money’s a little dirty, don't you think?"

And that's when you realize your knees are elevated upon two stacks of green, possibly some of what Katsuki had been counting earlier, and a twenty swims in a pool of drool under your cheek.

"Oh, but I don't think you care," Eijirou grunts, shoving your face deeper into the marble countertop as his hips speed up. "Dirty fuckin' girl. Bet you'd do anything for a fifty."

"I wanna fuck her," Katsuki rushes as if his mouth moves before he can speak. Eijirou wheezes a laugh.

"What, I can't enjoy this?"

"No,” the ash-blond grunts.

"Hmm..." Eijirou debates, though his hips never stop as he gives Katsuki a look and goes, "How about no?"

Katsuki growls at that, and you find your fingers clumsily twisting the ruby on the ring that sits on Eijirou's finger, sending the three of you flinging further into the future.

"Fuck!"

"This isn't the future I was referring to, but I'm not complainin'," Katsuki grunts with a feral grin. You nearly slip due to all the water in the shower and you're positive that you see the sunrise through the window paint Eijirou's skin gold.

"I gotcha, Sweetheart," Eijirou soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your arms while your nails dig into his shoulders, the red lines jagged from how roughly Katsuki fucks you from behind. "Fuck—you're doing so good for us, taking him so well."

You whimper and Katsuki lands a heavy slap on your ass—heavy to the point where you nearly knocks both you and the redhead into the tile behind him. Eijirou's calloused hands find your clit fairly easily, and that's enough to almost send you over the edge, pussy fluttering around Katsuki's cock.

"She's gonna cum," Katsuki grunts. "Can fuckin' feel it."

"Uh oh," the redhead singsongs, turning to you with a grin. "Were you trying to be slick, Sweetheart?”

Though it's difficult, you lift your head, eyes swimming in unshed tears as you choke, "I—n-no, it's jus—"

You're in the bedroom again—this time your back comes in contact with a dresser, metal rattling from the weight Eijirou slams you into it with. The redhead supports you both with two feet planted into the floor and a hand around your waist, grunting into your ear with an exhaustion that implies you've got to be at this for hours.

"Ei-Eiji—"

"I know, Sweetheart," the redhead coos breathlessly, licking up the sweat that runs down your neck. "Just a few more times, okay? Hold on for just a little longer."

You sob, head thunking against the wall as you realize you have no idea where Katsuki is. Though it's only a fleeting thought because before you know it, Eijirou's dropping you to your feet, bending you in half, and railing you into the wall.

"Goddamn," he grunts, sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip, "this is—this is the best lay I've had in a fat second."

You pant a laugh, hands pressing into the wall to steady yourself, "Good—good to know the fifty bucks was worth it."

"Oh baby, it was more than worth it," Eijirou hikes your leg up as high as it'll go for a deeper angle and he gets it, his growl melting into a semi-chuckle as you squeal, thighs jumping.

"Fuck Ei!" You scream, and he's tugging your hair to straighten your back out.

"You like it rough, Sweetheart?" He pants into your ear, grabbing your neck for a better grip. You nod as much as you can.

"Y-Yeah—I—" Eijirou drops you until you're stood at a perfect 90-degree angle, "I need—need'ta cum, p-please—"

"Twist the ring, Sweetheart," He pants, resting his hand on the wall next to yours. It still glints gold on his fourth finger in the moonlight, "Get us there together, yeah?"

You don't have to be told twice.

"Mph!"

"Fuck!”

Your knees dig into a mattress again as Katsuki fills your mouth. With his cock down your throat and Eijirou's buried deep in your cunt, there isn't much you can do but take both of them at the same time—though you're positive that's what they intended.

"Shit, me too." Eijirou wheezes a chuckle as his hips piston into you, his sweaty chest sticking to your back while he reaches between your thighs to rub your clit. That’s enough to send you flailing over the edge, moan muffled by Katsuki’s slowly softening cock. Then, with a devilish grin (and before the redhead can cum) Katsuki reaches for the ring on Eijirou’s finger and twists it.

“You asshole,” Eijirou groans, and suddenly you three are back in the shower, with Katsuki’s hips battering into yours as the redhead supports your weight from below. Katsuki chuckles before his grip tightens and he’s filling you with another load.

“C’mon Princess,” Katsuki grunts, reaching for your clit. “Come for us again.”

You choke again before you’re digging your head into Eijirou’s muscled chest with a moan, shaking from the aftershocks Katsuki continues to fuck you through them.

Until the room morphs, and you’re face down on the kitchen counter.

“Fucking finally,” Eijirou wheezes with a bitter chuckle, casually flipping Katsuki the middle finger as he's sat on the opposing counter. “Fuck, you're shaking baby, you gonna cum with me? Yeah?“

Eijirou batters into your cervix and that's the catalyst for your third orgasm. You squeeze so tight you think you may have knocked the wind out of the redhead when his chest crashes into your back, and you open your eyes just in time to see the kitchen melt into the bedroom again—in a time you all have yet to visit.

Your legs are thrown over Katsuki’s shoulders as he pushes your back deeper into Eijirou’s chest, both of their cocks filling you so much and so well it brings tears to your eyes. As your thighs quiver with an impending orgasm, Katsuki’s the first to fall off the edge, eyebrows furrowing as his nails dig into the meat of your thighs.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, voice fucked hoarse and lips bit pink. Eijirou nibbles into your shoulder with a gasp as his sweaty hand finds your clit again, neither of their hips ever stopping.

“Cum for us one more time, Sweetheart,” he pants into your neck before adding another hickey to the collection. Your chest shudders.

“I—I can’t—“

“Oh yes you fuckin’ can,” Katsuki growls, and you squeal as he tweaks a nipple. “I know you got one more in there. Give it.”

Your legs kick against his chest with a curse as you orgasm for the final time—this one much wetter than the last.

“Holy shit,” Eijirou nearly laughs, looking at where the three of you are connected. “Did you just squirt?”

“I—“ your face blends red when you see the absolute and utter mess that sits in Katsuki’s lap, before looking away with a determination to never see it again. “...Maybe.”

“Clean up?” Eijirou asks, eyes flickering to the ash-blond. Katsuki shrugs.

“Nah.”

A rush of wind and you’re sat on the kitchen counter. Eijirou’s jacket protects you from getting goosebumps due to a drop in temperature and though you do shiver, you find your body much more unscathed than it was.

“Hi,” Eijirou chuckles a little breathlessly.

“Hi,” you giggle back, a little nervous but in the best way. “So um...we do all of that tonight?”

“I guess so,” the redhead says a bit cheekily, raising an eyebrow. And then, with a wink, “Probably more.”

You stare at the ring on his hand in awe. Whoa.

"I fuck—fine, we can keep her, Shitty Hair," Katsuki grumbles from his spot near the kitchen sink, and despite the sour look on his face, you can't find a hint of it in his voice. Figures.

"Told you he'd say yes," Eijirou beams with a thumbs up.

"Can we...go do that stuff now?" You ask, albeit a bit hesitantly because...well, usually people are asking to have sex with you. Is this how they feel?

"Of course we can, Sweetheart," the redhead beams, before taking the ring off to place it onto the counter. "It was all a part of the future, after all."

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔 #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou smut #kirishima smut #tw.blood #tw.guns

668 notes · View notes

spideyspeaches · 3 years

Text

The Prince and the Archer ↬ t.h

EDIT: LOOK AT THIS AMAZING MOODBOARD @mischiefmanaged011 MADE!!!!!!

A/N: So @blissfulparker and I wrote a fic on this prompt I sent to her. She already posted hers AND GO READ IT IT’S AMAZING OKAY?! ANYWAYS-

WC: 2.3k (EXACT HOLY SHIT)

Pairing: Prince!Tom Holland x Archer!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Thomas had been nineteen years old when he first saw You.

He had been coming back from the stable with his mentor after a session of horse riding, exhaustion evident in the young Prince’s face. It had been a tough ride, his horse- Jakie- had not been very compliant that day, and Harry had been poking fun at him all day. He loved his brother, but he could be annoying sometimes (most of the time.)

Walking towards the castle, his eyes fell around the sports fields, his vision zeroing onto the Archery range. He had always found the sport interesting. How a single shot from an arrow and a bow could do so much as slice a fruit or pierce an organ, he would never understand. It never ceased to amaze him though.

“You look a little lost there mate.” Harry smirked, eyes following his brother's. He startled when Harry laughed, punching his biceps playfully.

He didn’t understand what Harry was talking about, until he saw You standing in the field, hands stretched out and legs apart, a perfect stance for a fight. A bow was held tight in your hands, stretching the arrow. He hadn’t even noticed that he had been staring at you, your hair flowing with the wind, a serious expression with your lips pursed as if you were ready for combat, the half of your face glowing with the sun.

The snap of Harry ’s fingers got him back, a blush raising his cheeks at being caught.

"She's pretty isn't she? She's the cook's daughter." He said.

“Mr. (L/N)?” He asked absentmindedly.

Tom saw as the arrow went sailing in a perfect trajectory, hitting the centre of the eye. He watched in a sort of trance as arrows after arrows hit the various targets, your hands not wavering once even.

“Uh- you, you go ahead. Tell mother I’ll be back in a minute.” He stuttered.

“Okay. Her name’s Y/N, by the way.” Harry retreated, patting his back and giving him a smile that he knew all too well.

He gestured at his mentor to make his way back to the Castle, walking towards the field where you were practicing.

You noticed him coming towards him, immediately bowing your head as he approached you.

"It's alright darling, you don't need to do that." He smiled at You as you nodded feverently. He smiled at you, cooing at the way you shied and hid your face from him.

“You’re Y/N right?” He asked slowly as you fiddled with your bow, nodding but not looking up for a long time.

“That's me, your majesty, to what do I owe you the pleasure of you visiting the archery range?” You finally said, looking up and stopped fiddling.

Your heart sped up when you looked at the young prince, hair slicked back in a short mullet, horse riding clothes donned on.

You had seen him quite a few times while practicing, and even admired him from afar like any other girl your age, but never had the guts to speak. You didn’t know how you would talk to the royalty without the intrusive thoughts of what he would possibly think of a poor girl talking to him. You felt giddy now that he was actually here, talking to you.

"Oh no no! The pleasure's all mine sweetheart. I, uh, you're good at it."He said, clearing his throat when you raised an eyebrow, “Could you show me? Uhm, how to work a bow and an arrow? I’m actually really bad at it.” He chuckled as you smiled, eyes lighting up when he mentioned the sport.

“Only if you teach me how to ride a horse.” You said back. You couldn't hold back the grin that appeared on your face, neither did he, when you agreed.

You couldn’t help but do an internal victory dance when he smiled, his soft brown eyes shining in the sunny day sending your mind into a frenzy.

"I could do that. So do we meet here tomorrow? Same time?" He asked, too giddy to notice anything around him. His heart was beating like crazy, feeling a pang of excitement in his tummy as you nodded shyly.

"Uh yes. That would be great, Mister Holland." You nodded, packing your bow and arrows. Shuffling your feet, you stared at him before he moved out of your way, chuckling when you saw his cheeks flame in a blush.

"Just Tom is fine!" He said, waving at you with a goofy expression on his young face. He chuckled, shaking his head as he felt an unearthed excitement at the thought of seeing you again.

The feeling felt foreign to the young prince. He had been offered services with other princess' before, danced with them in balls and even had fancy dinners with them, but the thought of spending time with you in the fields felt different, yet the excitement felt the same.

Skipping over to the main halls with a smile on his face that rivaled the brightness of the sun, Tom sighed. His heart was still fluttering from your previous encounter, stomach churning with an unknown feeling.

It was a few days later, during dinner, that the others started noticing his absences and random visits to the royal grounds with his horse (or how he suddenly was interested in learning archery of all sports).

"What's got you so excited?" His mum smiled, snapping him from his stupor as he looked up from his plate. The steak from his fork nearly fell, the laughter of his brothers making him blush.

"Is it the girl?" Harry smirked, eating his dinner innocently as he could.

"What girl?" Sam piped in. Everyone's eyes were on him now. Shuffling in his seat, he smiled, remembering your smile when he offered to learn archery from you in exchange of teaching you to horse ride.

"The girl in the archery fields. She's really beautiful. And her aim is impeccable. She's perfect, mum! I've never met a lady like her before." Tom said, looking at his mom with large eyes, anticipation making him sweat. He saw his mother nod, giving him a small smile.

"An archer you say? Is she by any chance, our cook's daughter?" She asked, resting her fork on her plate.

"I- I don't know, maybe? How does it matter though?"

"Tom, you know the rules. There are so many other princesses waiting for you in a like, you can't go for a normal low-life girl." She said, eyes betraying the sadness missing in her stern expression.

"Just because she's not as wealthy as us doesn't make her a bad person mum!"

"Tom honey, it's not about that, you have to understand we have certain rules and regulations to follow. For all you know she's a gold digger!"

Tom was used to the burden of being royalty, and he often felt guilty for feeling burdened with having all the wealth of London, when there were so many poor kids in the streets begging for food and a shelter.

Sometimes he felt like he would break under all the pressure and rules.

"How can you say that? You don't even know her! You know what? I don't care. I- You have to understand mum. She's different! She's not like those other snobby princesses who only want to marry me for my name! She's so much more better than those fucking pompous brats okay?-"

"Mind your language Thomas!"

"You can't stop me!" He said, pushing away his chair angrily before storming away, walking towards the ballroom and ignoring the servants running behind him with apologies.

Stomping his way to the ballroom, he opened the huge doors, slamming them as fast as he could with his strength. Locking them from the inside, he switched on the lights, sliding down the doors.

Holding his head, his shoulders shook with silent sobs, tears falling free as he felt himself break. He felt weak, for having such variations of emotions over some girl he saw not long ago.

Sniffing, he stood up, fixing himself as much as he could in his state, before looking at the small door behind one of the curtains. It was only noticeable if you were looking for it. He smiled, walking towards it. Touching the small latch, he opened the door, sneaking into a garden, the garden only he and his father knew about.

Pushing aside the shrubbery growing around it, he finally found the rusted gates, slowly removing the rusty chains with his hands.

He smiled fondly, remembering the day his dad had brought him here. He had been sad that day for whatever reasons he didn't remember, sitting on the small swing set as his father pushed him higher and higher until his tummy hurt because of giggling so much.

Sitting on the swing that was slightly too small for him, he idly pushed his feet back and forth, lost in his thoughts.

"It's beautiful here isn't it? I didn't think anyone would know about this place, much less the Prince of England."

His eyes widened, jaw dropping when he heard your voice.

"How do you know about this place?" He asked.

"My grandfather built this place before you and I were even born. My father told me about this. Now, answer my question." You shrugged, picking the leaves of the bush you were leaning against.

"That's nice. My father used to bring me here when I was a child. He doesn't do that anymore. I just, I wish he would spend more time with me." He said, biting his lips.

“You come here often then?” You asked.

“Yes, whenever I feel like being left alone. I come here.” He bit his lip, nervous of the sudden silence.

"I'm sorry." You said, cutting off his wandering thoughts.

"What are you sorry for?"

"Good childhood memories are sometimes more painful than the bad ones. At least you can deflect the bad ones, but the good ones are just a reminder of what you had and what you can't now." You said.

"That's not entirely true, good memories can still be made you know? With the person you love." He said, getting up from the swing set.

Walking towards You, he held his hand up, pushing a strand of your hair from your face as you ducked, shying away from his touch.

Your breath hitched, your hands clenched behind you as he came closer. You were standing head to head now. You could feel his breath on You, your lips nearly touching.

In the moment of courage, you leapt forward, capturing his lips in yours.

You loved fairy tales, small stories that described kisses as magical that made sparks fly. You always thought they were exaggerations, but at this moment, when you were kissing the most beautiful boy, the Prince of England and the boy you had been crushing on since forever, you felt like you were a part of those fantasies.

The kiss was indeed magical, albeit a little wet. You giggled when you broke apart, short of breath as you laid your hands on his chest, feeling the expensive fabric under your palm.

"What will the others think?" You whispered. Your hair flew in whisps, the air around you whispering it's reassurance as you stood in front of him.

"Let them think what they want to, darling. I've been the prey before, I'm ready to do it again." He smirked, pulling you by your waist for another kiss.

"You're cheesy." You chuckled.

"Yes, I'm melted cheese for you."

"That was a terrible joke Holland."

***

"Okay so you need to hold your stance, stiff but not too stiff. You will feel pressure in your shoulders the first day-"

"- darling can't we just make out please?"

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as if his yapping was giving you a headache.

You had gotten comfortable around him since your first encounter, and you felt special, seeing the goofy and happy side of the Prince. Didn't mean he didn't manage to make your heart stutter with his devilishly handsome grin (that made you want to pinch his cheeks and suck his dick).

"Thomas no."

"Thomas yes! I don't know how you manage to do this, this bow is so heavy!" He whined, keeping down the bow and folding his hands on his chest. He looked adorable with his pout.

Smiling, you shook your head, heaving a sigh, "the bow isn't heavy, Tom. Here, how about this, I'll hold your elbow while you aim alright?" You offer.

"That would be great, princess." You blushed at the nickname, not quite used to being called that.

"Alright drama queen, don't need to butter me." You muttered, moving closer so your chest touched his back, one hand on his elbow and the other on the string of the bow.

He could feel your breath on his neck, shuddering as you leaned in, your hair tickling him, your rough but nimble hands featherlight on his skin.

"Now aim." You said, moving your hair from your face.

He stuttered a response, holding himself straighter. You pushed his elbow up, right as he unleashed it, the arrow hitting the bullseye with a thud.

"We did it! Oh god Y/N did you see that? We did it ! It hit the centre!" He laughed, turning around, the bow laying on the ground as he lifted you up.

You shrieked as he spun you in circles, laughter bubbling in your chest as you rested your head against his.

"We did, your majesty." You smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

You weren't afraid of being caught, you were way past that point. And you felt that you could live like that, if it meant living with the loveliest Prince of England.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #prince!tom holland #prince!tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader fluff #peter parker smut #spideygirl writes

472 notes · View notes

thespiritoflife · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Raymond Smith x reader

Summary: Your father finds himself in troubles with the dreaded Mickey and you pay for it.

Warnings: violence, nudity, swearing, mention of character's death, long story, grammatical errors

I don't know if I'll make a series of this. But you know, feedback is always appreciated!

Bloody rose 🥀

"You're doing great, Y / N!" my friend Tracy said.

I smirked. I did a Cartwheel for the last time and then I stopped.

"Thank you, hon," I shouted at her.

She handed me a towel. "Take it. Then we have to go," she muttered.

"Where?" I was in no hurry. Oh, I loved Fridays.

"At that party, you fool," she said.

I sighed. "Tracy, no. I'm not going to that party."

"Buut ... at least for me." she threw dog eyes at me.

"No. I don't understand why you want me there, at all. I'm not a party woman. I hate parties. And you'll have a bunch of buddies there. And your boyfriend."

"God, there's no fun with you. Fine. I'll go there alone. But how do you spend Friday night? Staring at the ceiling?"

We started walking to the parking lot. I laughed. "No, Tracy. I'll relax. I'll go to the bathtub. I'll open my wine ... relax. I deserve it."

She didn't say anything. She just turned her head inconspicuously in some direction. I turned and rolled my eyes.

Josh was there. My .. what? Classmate. And he kept flirting with me, even though I told him a thousand times that I am not interested.

"You should give him a chance, Y / N."

Sweet Tracy.

Don't get me wrong, Josh is a great guy. He's nice too. Funny. Athlete.

But he didn't attract me.

I was not interested in the relationship. I was attracted to guys, yes, but ... I haven't dated anyone yet. And that was strange, according to other people.

"Y / N! Are you going from gymnastics, aren't you? You look like a goddess. Let's go for coffee!"

I moved to my car, which he was leaning on.

I smiled falsely. "Josh .. I am.... Not. Interested..."

He waved his hand. "You're just saying that today."

I told him this every day, but okay.

"But you can change your mind tomorrow, can't she, Tracy?" he winked at her.

Tracy nodded. "As Y / N's best friend, I promise Y / N will be only yours for coffee tomorrow."

"Tracy!" I hissed.

She just shrugged innocently.

"That's great. See you tomorrow, then!" Josh hugged me and walked away.

"You're great. Not to hold my side, no." I told her angrily.

"Come on. You need fun. You can't just ... give him a chance at least once. Go on a date with him. Poor boy, he's been trying for you for years."

Her cell phone rang. I knew immediately who was calling her. I wanted to roll my eyes. Really?

"Love!! Yeah! Come after me, we'll meet ... yes, there. Don't wait. What? I love you too. Have a nice day, I'm sending kisses." Tracy's voice changed completely as she spoke to her boyfriend. But completely.

"I'll say goodbye to you now, Y / N. Goodbye, at school! And enjoy your date." she, too, walked away and waved cheerfully at me.

I got angry in the car and sighed in defeat.

I stood in front of a huge luxury villa. Yes, I live here.

I opened the door and a cat stopped at my feet immediately. I leaned over. "Mickey! You're hungry, aren't you?"

He whimpered in agreement. I gave him granules and stroked him. He was the only one in this house who kept me company.

I lived with my father. He stopped here that very rarely. He was really rich, he had his own business and he had some company.

I had a good relationship with him, but ... I missed him. I didn't want to be alone. I didn't have siblings and my mom ..

I looked at the painted picture. My father had her painted while she was still alive.

Yes, she died. She died in a car accident when I was very young. I don't remember her at all.

But she looked like me. She had my hair and my eyes.

Okay, I'm going to relax. I deserve it.

I was lying in the bathtub with my eyes closed. I have dreamed.

"You're so beautiful, Y / N .." someone whispered to me.

"I love you," I said, holding someone's hand.

"I can't believe I finally married you." someone said.

"Life is unpredictable .."

The smell of a candle hit my nose. That wouldn't be weird, I lit the candle myself. But what was strange was that ..

That I smelled a men's perfume.

I opened my eyes immediately.

An unknown man stood beside the bathtub, looking at me. If it weren't for the bizarre situation, I would have thought he was attractive. He had wide shoulders, an overgrown face, blond hair, blue eyes framed by stylish glasses.

I screamed in an instant.

What. The. Fuck. Is. This!

He immediately ran to me and stuffed my mouth. "Be quiet, sweetheart. Please," he said in a rather pleasant voice.

I shook my head. I didn't like it! An unknown man was at my house! And he probably wanted to kidnap me.

Suddenly male voices came from the hall. I thought I heard my father.

My father is here. Everything will be explained.

I calmed down.

The man noticed it too. "I'll let go of my hand now, but you can't scream, do you promise?"

I nodded.

He released his hand, but at that moment I got up (yes, I got up naked from the bathtub) and left and put my feet on the floor. I quickly took the only weapon I had and that was a hairdryer.

The man tried not to stare at my naked body, but he looked furious. "What the fuck are you doing, girl?"

"If you don't tell me what's going on in a moment, I'll throw the hairdryer in the bathtub!" I screamed.

"You're crazy."

I approached the bathtub.

"Would you like to kill yourself?"

"I have nothing else left! Tell!" I shouted.

He shook his head. "You'll find out at the right time ... well! Just don't get any closer to that fucking water!" he shouted.

"Your father cheated on us and he has to pay for it. He's talking to my boss Mickey now."

"You're fucking kidding!"

"I don't, girl. And now, if you were so kind ..." he approached me.

He carefully took my hairdryer and I stared into space. What?

I stomped on his leg, he screamed in pain and I wanted to run away from this bathroom, but he managed to grab me in his arms.

I swung in his arms like a furious puppy, and somehow he couldn't keep his balance and we both ended up in the bathtub again.

He was with me.

"Get off me! Immediately!" I demanded. I didn't like it, to hang out with a naked guy like that.

He took my hands. I couldn't run away from him. "If you try anything else, you'll just make trouble, young lady. Do you understand?"

I was silent.

"You understand?" he repeated the question.

I nodded angrily. What was I supposed to do?

He released me carefully and came out of the bathtub angrily.

He mumbled something under his nose, but I didn't listen to him.

I pressed my knees together. I tried not to cry. It's over with me.

"Do you have any clothes here?" he asked me.

"I don't know," I said.

"Come on. Don't lie," he demanded an answer.

I gave it up. "My father has something in that locker," I pointed to the locker.

The man walked over to her and opened it. He started rummaging in it, but I didn't listen to him, I didn't notice.

It will be over with me.

I will die.

The man had changed in the meantime, but I wasn't looking at him.

I pressed my knees together and stared at the ceiling.

He walked over to me and looked at me regretfully.

"Put this on, please." he held my clothes in his hand.

I had no desire to object.

I wanted to get up and fulfill his wish, but he stopped me. "I'll leave your privacy. I'll be at the door."

I piled up and got dressed. He was a gentleman.. who wants to kidnap me or something.

He locked the door and left.

HE ALREADY SAW ME NAKED but ok.

Dressed, I carefully opened the door. He was there, leaning. He offered me his shoulder, but I refused.

I walked into that fucking living room, where male voices came from.

I saw a few men. Everyone in tuxedos and on the couch was sitting with my father. He looked startled.

"Y / N!" he shouted.

"What's going on, Dad? Will you kindly explain it to me?"

"I'd hear that, too," a man shrugged.

I ignored him and looked at my father. "So?"

"Y / N, honey .. I didn't mean .."

"What did you do? Tell me straight." I asked him.

"I ... I ... I had some business with them. I was late paying and ..."

"And?"

My father must have had something on his tongue, he didn't want to answer.

The guy answered me. "He killed our man."

I felt sick. "You're making fun of me, aren't you? My father wouldn't kill in his life ..."

"Confess to her."

"I'm sorry ..." my father looked at me.

I fell to my knees. "Father, what did you do? You threw us in danger! We will die for you! You should not have gotten involved with any mafia!"

"I am sorry.."

"I don't want to hear anything from you anymore." I wanted to cry, but I was silent. I screamed inside.

The cat also broke into the living room.

"Mickey," I whispered and took him in my arms. He has always been my support.

The man, apparently the boss of it all, was intrigued. "What did you call him?"

"Mickey," I said.

The man who was in the bathtub with me laughed.

The boss frowned at him. "What happened to you, Raymond? You're in a different outfit."

How could they be so callous?

"That's a long story," he said, looking at me.

I kept clutching Mickey, even though he was starting to get uncomfortable.

"Hey, let go of that cat, we need to talk." the boss spoke to me.

"About what? Kill me right now," I shrugged.

The man laughed. "No, it won't work that way. I have no plans to kill you. You're just a daughter ... of an evil father. You'll pay differently."

Sweat ran down my forehead. "What are you going to do with my father?"

"It's none of your business anymore," he replied.

"Leave him alone. You better kill me." I declared and finally released the cat. He was running away from here.

He didn't want to be here. Like me.

"Y / N!" my father shouted, but I ignored him.

The boss scratched his chin. "I call it ... child's love. Too bad your father doesn't love you that much. He offered your life to save his life."

For the second time, I felt like throwing up.

"What? That ... really?" I looked at him. I had tears in my eyes. Finally, some tears.

It hurt. Like hell. My father wanted to say something, but I didn't listen to him.

My father betrayed me.

"But we won't grant his wish, will we, Ray?"

The man in the bathroom with me, apparently Raymond, nodded.

"Take the girl away, Ray." the boss stood up.

Raymond came up to me. I did not understand.

He took me. "Come with me.."

"What, no!" I shouted.

Raymond looked at me. "Trust me, you don't want to see this. Come on."

"What..."

And then it went awry. Raymond lost his temper with me, grabbed me hard, and took me away. I didn't understand why.

And then I understood.

One of the boss's men aimed his gun at my father. But my father did something weird. He picked his gun by himself and shot himself in the forehead.

And suddenly I heard it. The sound of a gun.

"No no!!!" I screamed.

"Let me go!" I shouted. I already cried. My father fell to the ground dead with a hole in the middle of his forehead.

"It's after him. It's his fault, sweetheart... he's decided that way ..."

He said something else to me, but I didn't notice him because I cried a lot.

I only heard snippets of sentences.

"... take her with you ...."

"... why me? I have nothing to do with her, Mickey ..."

"Don't ask me why, just do it until we decide what to do with her. She looks awful, put her to bed."

"Of course she looks awful. She lost her father ... I'll do as you say, boss ..."

Some days seem so boring. Also, ordinary. Immutable. Nothing is happening.

And then there are such days. When something happens that will change your life forever.

#the gentlemen #raymond smith #raymond #raymond smith x reader #raymond smith x you #raymond smith x y/n #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam x you #raymond smith imagine

121 notes · View notes

jaycewrites-192000 · 3 years

Text

The Rest Of Our Lives

Levi Ackerman x Reader

It had all finally came to an end, the world could finally try its best to heal from years upon years of death.

Speaking of healing, he had gone through the worst of it over the years. And finally, he has the rest of his life to heal.

But he can't do it alone...

(Spoiler Warning!!! This story contains spoilers for the end of the Attack on Titan manga!!!)

It had been three years since that fateful battle. So many lives had been lost that day, good and bad, friend and enemy. Even the majority of the human population, eighty percent to be specific, had been wiped out just for the slim chance of peace, and even then, it wasn't completely guaranteed. But for now, all was calm. That day, was the battle between titan and human, heaven and earth. The day the dreaded rumbling had began, and soon ended. It resulted in many deaths and plenty of injuries, the worst landed upon Levi Ackerman. Humanity's strongest soldier was nearly killed, but he wasn't given that title for nothing. He was still living today, though missing a few fingers, a working eye, and finally his permanently damaged leg. It wasn't too much of a problem, as there were no longer any titans to fight. Though, it was somewhat, shameful in his eyes. That after everything, a busted leg is what holds him down. He wasn't even elderly, and yet he needed constant help. He grateful for the help however, though he wished he didn't have to burden people with his problem so much.

But, it wasn't a burden or a problem to her.

She was there by his side for as long as he can remember. She fought by his side during expeditions, comforted him during his low points, and even risked her life over and over to keep him safe and alive. He can't say he's never done the same for her. Maybe it was her constant attention and care, that made him fall in love with her. At the time, it was horrible. He fell in love with someone he could so easily loose, but now in a world free of titans, he could love her as much as he wanted. And the same goes for her. They both confessed their love for each other shortly before the rumbling began, then he proposed to her after everything settled.

And so, here they were, in their own little cabin next to a beautiful lake, surrounded by tall pine trees. They both were outside today, rested on the bench that sat right before the lake. Hand in hand, her head leaning on his shoulder. Their gentle breaths in sync with one another. The calmness of the quiet air, aided to their ease. For once in their lives, they felt no need for worry or panic, or when the next attack from the titans would be. And they would never need for such worries again.

Her eyes slowly opened, she smiled as the first thing she saw, was her soon to be husband. Even with the scars, he was still as handsome as ever. Though, his eyes were distant and somewhat empty. Why? "Levi?" She spoke softly. "Are you ok?" Levi finally blinked, sighing softly he looked down at you. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?" She sits up to meet his gaze. "You seem, a little distant. Are you tired?" Levi shakes his head before placing his hand on his scar. "Just thinking." He muttered. Was that what this was about? This would happen every now and then, Levi would just stare at himself in the mirror. Well, less himself and more at his blinded eye, the two long scars that covered it. It started from the top of his eye down to his lip. He considered himself lucky, that explosion Zeke Yeager caused could have just killed him all together. But it only costed him an eye and a few fingers.

Still she wondered, did he hate how he looked now? He never commented on it before, so she just assumed he didn't care. But the way his overall expression would falter anytime he saw it, or tried to lifted his hand, or even when he tried to stand. "Levi? You know I didn't think less of you because of those scars." She placed her hand on top of his damaged one. "Or your hand. Or your leg. I still love you. I always have and I always will. This doesn't change a thing." Y/n say softly, trying to reassure him. "I...I know that Y/n. But....it's not that...not this time." Levi looks up at the sky. It was a soft orange, signifying the end of the day. "Every time I wake up, I wonder when it will happen." Y/n blinks a few times, not really understanding. "When what will happen?" She asks. "When they will come back. The titans. Before, at any moment, we could die at the hands of those giant bastards." Y/n would be lying if she said she hadn't felt the same at sometimes.

"But Levi, that was before. They're gone now. There are no more titans, we're safe." She explains to him.

"For how long?"

The panic in his voice was clear. Y/n took both of his hands and held them in her own. Her eyes full of sincerity as she spoke. "Levi, I know how you're feeling. But, you were there that day. We both were, the titans are gone. They died along with Eren." It still pained you to say it. Though in the end Eren was acting rash and out of hand, you still remembered him as the same young boy with hope in his heart that one day, the world would be a one without titans. It was a shame that he let it go to his head, and because of that, he was responsible for nearly exterminating all of humanity. Therefore, he had to face the consequences of his actions and pay the ultimate price. Poor kid...

"There are no trace of titans left. We're safe. You're safe. And you will never have to worry about stuff like that ever again." You bring his hands up and kiss them gently. Making sure he felt your love, even through his missing fingers. "And I won't ever leave your side. I'll always be here for you Levi. To care for you, to love you, for the rest of our lives."

A sudden wetness on your hands made you flinch. You look up to expecting to see rain, but instead, you saw Levi, crying. He sniffles a few times before leaning closer to you, until his head rested on your shoulder. You smiles and rub his back in a soothing manor. Through his sobs, you could make out a feint "thank you" from Levi.

You meant every word. You will always be there for him. And he in return would always be there for you. You two will always have each other, for the rest of your lives.

Another year has come to pass, Levi and Y/n had finally married, and proud to call themselves Mr and Mrs Ackerman. And Mrs Ackerman was expecting and due to deliver soon. There were congratulations given all around. From Armin, Jean, Connie, Annie, Reiner, even Falco and Gabi. Even Mikasa. It was a bit surprised that she came to visit. Mikasa had became distant ever since Eren died, she was the one that killed him after all. She had been by Eren side for many many years, and in the end, she was the one that put him to rest. It took quite a toll on her. But she was recovering, slowly but surely.

Y/n wished so desperately that Hanji and Erwin could have been here today. Though, she bet that Hanji would have been pretty sad without having anymore titans to experiment on. But deep down she knew, that they were still here, even if she couldn't see them. Levi knew it as well. They would both regularly visit their graves to pay respects and generally just talk about what's going on in their lives. Hanji would have been so thrilled to know that Levi and Y/n settled down to start a family. From the very beginning, Hanji had always hoped you two would get together. She even went as far as teasing her and Levi, which would normally result in a kick to the back from Levi. Not too hard though, he didn't want to break her spine. And Erwin, he would just be happy to see Levi happy with someone. And of course Levi's former squad would be happy that he was at peace with himself. They all would be so proud of him.

When it came time for Y/n to deliver, it was one of the most stressful and wonderful days of Levi's life. Fortunately, Y/n was just fine afterwards and gave birth to a healthy and beautiful little girl. She resembled Levi the most, with her black hair and her grey-blue eyes. She had some of Y/n's features as well, like her skin tone and her facial features.

"What should we name her?" Y/n spoke softly as she held her baby close. "We haven't came up with a name for her yet?" Levi mutters. They were spending more time preparing themselves for a new addition to their small family, that they hardly had time to think of one. Levi gently stroked his daughter's cheek, she gave a tiny smile in return before her face returned to a more sleepy one. It made Levi's heart race. This was his daughter, he made that! Well, really Y/n did, but it meant just as much to him. Never in his wildest dreams would he ever think that he would have children. Then again, he never thought he would meet someone like Y/n either. Levi's stone expression dropped, a smile of his own made it onto his face.

"Levi, I've actually had one in mind for a while. But, I wasn't sure if...you would be ok with it." Y/n spoke hesitantly. Levi held her hand, such a small gesture, made sure she knew she didn't have to keep anything from him. "I know how close you were to Farlan and Isabell." Levi's breathing halted for a second. "More specifically, how much Isabell looked up to you. I know she saw you as a brother, but...what I'm trying to say is, what if we named her, Isabell?" Y/n looked down at her baby, who was sleeping peacefully in her arms. It was true, Farlan and Isabell were like family to Levi, it was devastating the way they died. He wasn't there to help them, if he was, maybe they would be here today. He missed them dearly...

When Levi didn't respond, Y/n became worried. "I-I mean, we don't have to. I was just-"

"It's perfect." Levi cut her off. "Our little Isabell." He says with another warm smile. Y/n returned the smile before kissing her daughter's head. "Welcome to the world, Isabell." She whispers.

With this, Levi knew he was living for so much more. He had a woman who loved him with all her heart, despite how he looks now. And now, he had a child. Though this world was without titans, it doesn't mean there won't be another danger that was out there, just waiting to snatch his happiness away from him. But Levi wouldn't let it. Levi swore this very day, to protect his wife and daughter with everything he had. Despite injury, despite age, he would never let anything or anyone harm his family. Because for now on, it will be only them, together.

For the rest of their lives.

THE END

(This was not stolen! This story was reposted from my Wattpad account!)

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot 139 #snk 139 #aot spoilers #snk spoilers #spoilers #manga spoilers #anime spoilers

114 notes · View notes