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lifeandlies-of-regulusblack · 7 months

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"Happy Father's Day, you idiot." - A black brother's au

Sirius is a good older brother. Regulus lets him know. || Black Brothers fluff with a serving of angst to elevate, said fluff. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER YOUR HONOR. — feat. a basic ass Father's Day mug. As reg would like to say, it's symbolic.

@rizzulusarcturizz babe, this fic was written for u. I know this is a very short piece but i was working on it every day little by little and i was thinking if i couldn't get this finished during your birthday week, then this had to be done before November. I love you 🫶.

The day of, Regulus gifts Sirius a Father's Day mug. He's laughing before he knows it because what a Grade-A dig on their father; he was proud absentee parent on good days and an enabler during the worst ones. Count on Reggie to be a petty motherfucker. Sirius takes the mug from Regulus and thumbs over the printed words, 'to the best dad always, a yearly reminder: I love you'.

Huh. Bit odd. Words a little too warm. But he gets the vision!

He tells his brother, next time, he'll get the two of them Mother's Day mugs and drink good wine with it — to celebrate their lives lived blissfully, away from her royal wretchedness.

Although at this, Regulus gives him a look of frustration and says, no.

His laugh peters out a little but the mirth doesn't leave his face. "Okay. Then what's this for, all of a sudden?" he asks playfully. Quite a weird jig Regulus is trying to pull but he waits for the punchline.

His brother looks at him, eye twitching, obviously willing him to understand what Sirius, frankly, has no chance of understanding. Coming to terms with having to provide an explanation instead of his expectant glares,

Regulus crosses his arms and turns his head away, sniffing haughtily. He says he'll only tell Sirius this, this one time and if he ever brings it up again, he'll find himself brotherless and 'now what good will that be?' he tells him all business like.

"You practically raised me, Sirius."

Oh.

He blinks once. He blinks twice. There's a Regulus-blot in front of him, right in line with an oh-so familiar prickling sensation, of his eyes welling up with tears. Truthfully, he wants to punt his brother across the room. But he's only able to grip the edge of his kitchen island, mind a mess, scrambling to come up with a response.

Who said he was emotionally ready to hear this from Regulus?

He's still holding the mug on his other hand with a white-knuckled grip. Sirius isn't sure he can look at the words printed on it after Regulus' confession, not without dropping down on the floor and having a good cry in his kitchen. With the strange floaty way he feels and the soft ringing in his ears — he considers the possibility that maybe he's shot right out of his body.

He's a Black, loathe as he is to admit it. He's not made for emotional heart-to-hearts with his brother. Those stay during the night, as they cling to each other, chasing away memories of the past. For when they wake each other up from their own nightmares. They stay behind closed doors, whispered to each other when one of them's barely coherent, too busy blinking the horrors away from behind their eyelids. These emotional confrontations were for when Sirius was 19 and Regulus was 17, knocking on his apartment door — when reassurances spilled from his lips, letting his brother know that it didn't matter how long it took him to come home. That they both waited. That Regulus finally came and Sirius was there. Like they promised.

And they always continued as normal.

They don't do this. This— this whole, thing, that Regulus is doing right now... during the day. When the sun is up and they can see both their faces clearly. When the situation doesn't call for it!

Sirius feels like a thousand moments have passed and barely any at all.

He's barefoot in his own kitchen, halfway through his lunch. He can just about hear the neighborhood dogs barking from right across the street. There's food saved for his brother in the fridge and— and— Sirius Black, simply wasn't expecting this from Regulus, fresh off a date with his mate.

They were supposed to get gifts for Monty.

"I don't think I ever told you," Regulus says.

And this snaps him right back, attention singularly focused on his brother. Despite his panic, Sirius, smugly he observes that his brother looks like he's willing the gods to smite him down. But the little fucker, despite the both of them having physical reactions to what he's doing, plows on.

"Some part of me wants to scream knowing you say the harshest things to yourself when you think you aren't doing right by me." Regulus looks at him just as he softly says, "I hate what you do to yourself because of me."

Sirius wants to tell him it's because his one true fear is fucking this up. Hurting him. Not being there for him. Because he's his little brother. He's all his. He's all he has. He can't fuck it up. His mouth remains stubbornly shut but he's shaking his head, already refuting his brother.

"No, Sirius— you can't keep doing this to yourself," Regulus sharply exhales, "You're not allowed to do this especially when it comes to me. You aren't perfect, neither am I to you, but you're the best I've got. You always were even when we were kids. You still are, right now. And I think you always will be.

"Brother, mother, and father. That's you, Sirius. All my love came from you."

All my love came from you.

Sirius feels incredibly full.

"You were the one telling me to eat my greens. You were the one putting on my shirts for me—holding my hands and guiding them, one by one, through the shirt holes—when I was too young to put them on myself. You were the one who came when I had nightmares. When I was sick, it was you rubbing my back and brushing my hair away from my face."

How could he not? Sirius loved Regulus before he was ever born. Can't quite prove it yet, just as Reg likes to point out when he tells him, but it's true. Regulus has always been his.

His little brother shifts to look down at the floor. At the space between them. He's wearing Sirius' new shoes he's been hiding spitefully from him. Of course his rat brother sniffed them out, he thinks — sickly fond. Regulus isn't fast enough for Sirius not to see the way his eyes struggle to hold tears that Sirius' has long failed at doing so.

"Reg," he says helplessly.

"Thank you for being my entire family. I was never unloved. I was always cared for. And you gave me a place to run."

All at once, it's unbearable, the way he's standing where he is, and Regulus is standing over there. He decides that he hates it with a passion and throws himself onto his brother, hugging him like they're at threat of being separated. He loves Regulus so much.

"If you break the mug, I'm punching you in the face," Regulus tells him. With a shaky laugh, Sirius pulls back and sets the mug down with an awkward reverence. As soon as it's settled he grabs for Regulus again.

"I love you so much, you terrible git." He tells his brother, meaning every single word.

Regulus huffs, then proceeds to wrap his arms around his brother. Relishing in the safety and security of Sirius' embrace. At the surety of his affection.

"I only did what they did for me," he tells Regulus. "I wasn't in my right mind the day I left, you know." And his brother nods.

Sirius knows this. Knows how he treated Regulus leading up to his departure. Up 'til the very last moment of their shared experience in hell. That week, Sirius had already made up his mind to leave: he was going to or die trying. He just didn't know how to say goodbye to his brother and more terrifyingly, he didn't know how to ask Regulus to come with him.

So, he got mad. Mad that Regulus didn't know what he wanted. Angry and derisive towards his brother — the brother he raised alongside himself (he was just a kid too) —and in defense, just as Narcissa taught him, Regulus fought word for word. With venom and daggers. All the while alarm and hurt flashing across his face as if to ask, 'why are you doing this?'

But it's been 8 years since then. Sirius has made it a point to talk about the things he has said and done to Regulus. Apologized profusely, not for himself, but for his brother who more than deserved to hear it from him. He knows how big a part he played in the decline of their relationship, he was the one who kept starting them. He still says sorry from time to time. And Reg apologized too, for making Sirius feel like he was wrong about their parents. For blaming him for the split lip he had to keep hiding from his friends. For being dismissive because he thought it would make him stay. And Sirius tells him he was antagonistic because he wanted Regulus to come with him.

What a pair they make. They're the most dangerous apart, even to each other.

"That's why I sent you that letter," he explains, "I wanted you to know that I hadn't left you behind. It took me so long to understand why you didn't come with me that night but trust Effie to sort me right out!"

He places his cheek on top of his brother's head, "More than anything, it was the fact that I could see myself somewhere safe that made me run. It took me so long to realize." Sirius admits.

"I know," his brother says. They've had this conversation a thousand times already.

"When I did, before I could even say sorry for the things I've done — I needed you to know you could come to me," he feels Regulus do the seemingly impossible by wrapping himself tighter around him, "I needed you to know you had an out. That I was waiting, no matter how long."

Regulus pulls away, eyes puffy and tells him, "That's why you're not allowed to rake yourself over the coals, Sirius. Not about me. Not about raising me or being enough." And almost pleadingly he says, "I'm sorry mum and dad always made you feel like you were lesser than. But you have to know. To me? You're everything, Sirius."

And what can he possibly say to that? At this whole afternoon, really, where he feels like he's been caught in a centaur stampede, knowing that at the same time, his chest feels like a garden growing with warmth and hope. With dandelions planted by his brother. Nothing, Sirius concurs.

He can only smile at Regulus, tears falling down as his eyes crinkle.

Regulus scoffs at his barren display of emotion, blushing at the outward sincerity of it. A weepy little git one moment and a snooty bastard the next. Like he wasn't the one giving Father's Day gifts and starting all this mess, Sirius muses. He manages quite an exemplary eye roll as if to put himself above his brother's lowly display of vulnerability.

Regulus does give him a small smile and says,"Happy Father's Day, you idiot."

Sirius really doesn't think he could be any happier.

**wow, i can't seem to stop writing about the black brothers. here, have some more.

If you have the spoons for it, please consider giving this a reblog. It's a great source of motivation and the only effective way for other people to see the things i write :)

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x-chubby-reader · 3 years

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Oh MY GOD what about Bakugou, kirishima, and sero who get hit by a quirk who turns them into a lil toddler or whatever and they’ve got the biggest crush on their chubby/plus size classmate 🥺🥺

A/N - I literally love this idea so much, thanks to @fandom-fander for helping out with this headcannon.

Not Prof Read

Lowercase Intentional

Cursing

Toddler!Bakugo, Kirishima, and Sero x Plus size reader

Bakugo

aizawa sure as hell didn't feel like dealing with the angry pomeranian in minature form

he decided to leave the boy with the class and let them decide among themselves on who should watch the little firecracker for the day

extra credit anyone?

everyone immediately pinned the responsibility on you

kirishima, he didn't feel like getting screeched at by a small bakugo and needed to apparently go study

he also knew that bakugo had a fondness for you in his teenage form, so why not see if he still has it

fr little bakugo pretends to hate your guts

somehow this little toddler has the most hurtful insults

“you can't even get a boyfriend? that's pretty sad.”

suddenly choking out a child is okay

do it… no one has to know how it happened

even though he had pretended to hate you, he still kept trying to show off to you

you decided to take him out on a little bike/tricycle ride? homeboy flipped it trying to show off how fast he could go and then proceeded to complain about scraping his knee

hey at least he got your attention

he is a literal leash kid fight me oh my god

bakugo will simply run away

you expected him to listen? oh you're in for a surprise

the only option that you give him is to either wear the embarrassing monkey pack or to hold your hand

he immediately grabs your hand and is literally so giddy and its adorable my lord-

smiles for days my heart i can’t-

he may seem all happy and nice, but that can flip in a minute

he’s the biggest brat sometimes and you are literally this close to punting him across the room

you don't get him something that he wants? little pomeranian boy will turn into a velociraptor child in an instant

the decimals that that kids voice can reach up to is kind of impressive not going to lie

“no bakugo, you can't have that right now maybe later-”

screech

thankfully he tires himself out quick enough to set him down for a nap

but nothing is ever simple, is it?

he wont go to sleep without you though, claiming that there are monsters and he needs to know where you are so he can protect you

no matter how many times you had explained to him that there weren't any monsters around, you slowly succumbed to his pleas

almost feeling bad for him, he just looked so serious about how you could get hurt that it made you feel bad

you didn't notice how much taking care of a kid took out of you until now

you had made a mental note to apologize to your mom for having to deal with you when you were younger later

As soon as you settled down on the couch with the toddler laying on top of you, you almost instantaneously passed out

oh boy were you in for a surprise when you woke up to a teen bakugo, still curled into your torso

he looked up to you after feeling you stir, he almost had a smirk on his face before burying his head back into you

mostly to hide the redness spreading over his face, he wasn’t going to admit that he was blushing

no way in hell

he just mumbled a “later” before his breaths softened into a steady pace

yeah, you may be stuck here for a bit

Kirishima

you were there for the whole thing

red-top had pushed you out of the way of an incoming quirk blast and suffered the consequences

he became young again, almost too young

you felt bad

and who wouldn’t

so of course you took it upon yourself to watch him until the effects wore off

the thing you learned about him was that he was an even touchy-er child

homeboy just wanted to be held all the time

just climbing up and latching himself onto your calf

it was adorable but hard to walk with

If you pick him up, you’ve basically sworn an oath with the devil himself

you cannot put him down

ever

he gives the most pitiful looks when you do and drags his feet when you walk

he also wont leave you alone

so curious in whatever your doing at that exact moment

and he is impressed by everything you do

“what are you doing?”

“reading”

“wow so cool!”

a bug came in through the window and he screamed

you walked in all nonchalant, grabbed your shoe, and smacked that some of a bitch into a next dimension

he lit up omfg

“wow y/n, that was so manly!”

you brought him in to class since it had been a school day and were too afraid to tell aizawa about the incident

the girls were literally all over him

i mean, who wouldn’t be all over an adorable and friendly (looking at you bakugo) kid?

and the pebble boy was lapping up the attention like a thirsty dog on a hot day

you never expected him to act like this

shy maybe, but then again he was pretty outgoing in his teenage form

he was grinning from ear to ear

literally posing like a mini body builder and making little huffing noises

even you couldn’t help it, letting a little aww out like most of the other girls

this had been causing a slight disturbance to the class

so the whole going to school thing was pointless as aizawa sent the two of you home anyways

he is already a tired dad, he dosen’t need to be dealing with a toddler right now

putting the little strongman on your back you began to walk

you had been hoping that the effects would wear off in a few more hours

but nothing ever goes to plan dose it?

while you had been walking, you noticed a significant weight increase, but just decided to ignore it

hey you were more sturdy and thicc, you wern’t no pussy, why stop all of a sudden because of the extra weight?

the only single thing that had alerted you to kiri being fully back was the whisper in your ear

instead of a sqeaky and mousy voice, you heart a more smooth and even comment

“hey stranger”

girl you dropped him and ran, him having to catch up to you

he has the audacity to give you a heart attack, he better suck it up

Sero

this was the same situation as bakugo, aizawa just didn’t want to deal with the kid

and especially a kid who kept mixing up two languages

he really was just so one

aizawa gave him the option to go to anyone

of course he ran straight to you, clinging onto your calf, as that was as high as he could reach

hey you looked the most inviting and least scary

he was literally terrified of bakugo and almost started to bawl is eyes out when he went near him

though he calm down slightly when he went down to get to a similar height as him.

why wouldn’t you take the opportunity to watch a cute little kid and skip class

hey, aizawa said whoever watched him got extra credit

but there soon was a slight problem that you noticed

well not really a problem, but more of a hurdle

with sero being raised in a household that spoke both english and spanish, he started to mix the two, not knowing any better

he would be asking for “leche” and you would just stand there trying to understand with your limited vocab

just the loading circle above your head whenever he started to talk

but you managed with google translate and going off of the vast amount of spanish soap operas you watched at 3 am once a week

surprisingly, he was a very artistic kid

at least every ten minutes he would walk over to you and hand you a squiggly picture of a flower, you, or him and you holding hands

and he would just giggle before running away to make another

bro heart go melt

being pre occupied with some papers that the father teacher had sent home with you, sero couldn’t get your attention

he might of forgotten your name and got stuck in a predicament

then the most rational thing popped into his head

well his dad called his mom “mi amor” and you and his mom were both pretty ladies

it made total sense to him so he went with it

“hey...”

nothing

“hey...”

nothing again

“hey... mi amor~”

your head shot up immediately

since he noticed that the name had gotten your attention, he just started using it

when he had shifted to being a teen again, the two of you never mentioned the name again

until a few days later when he was back to normal in class

homeboy was trying to get your attention and the multiple taps on the shoulder weren't cutting it

he got an idea

“hey... mi amor~”

yep that got you immediately

and he still uses that nickname for you

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drabbles-of-writing · 3 years

Text

You Call That Advice?

AO3

second owl fight attack! This one’s prompt was “Hunter and King helping Luz ask Amity out”

Summary: Hunter and King, upon learning that Luz had yet to have an 'official' date with Amity, decide it's now their job to help Luz ask her out, as all good brothers should. It goes about as well as one would expect.

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“Why do you guys look like you’re scheming, and will I regret it if I get involved?”

Luz looked up from her scroll, which Hunter was willing to bet they’d just found in the trash and pieced together to try and work, since her phone didn’t pair with any other scrolls, laying on her back and looking like a dejected puppy.

King, meanwhile, was laying across one of Luz’s abundance of pillows, with a handful of messy papers sprawled out before him. He only looked up for a moment before going back to writing down gibberish.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping Lilith cleaning up the old Castle?” Luz raised a brow, allowing her woeful expression to slip for just a moment.

“I annoyed her enough to let me leave early. I got nothing in my old room worth keeping, anyway.” He shrugged, wandering in. “Everything I liked got burnt to a crisp.”

“That’s kinda sad.” Luz grimaced. “I should beat up the person who did that.”

“We established this long before Belos threw you face-first into the dirt, but thanks for the effort.”

“Hey, I won!”

Hunter kicked out his foot, rolling Luz off of her back and onto her front, face squished into the wooden floor. She grumbled as he chuckled, shaking his head.

“But, seriously, what are you two doing?”

“I’m helping Luz text Amity.” King said simply, not even looking up.

“Do you not know how to use a scroll?” Hunter snorted, sitting down on crossed legs.

“Course I do!” Luz huffed, giving him a glare before rolling onto her side and lifting her scroll, giving it such a pathetically sad look. “I’m just trying to ask her on a date, that's all.”

“You never went on a date until now?” Hunter scrunched up his face. “I would’ve thought you’d have the whole disgusting bouquet of roses with candlelight's by, like, day three."

“There was a lot going on!” Luz dropped her scroll on the floor beside her and waved her hands in the air. “Does running a rebellion and toppling a tyrannical government count as a date?” She asked, looking towards Hunter.

“They do not.” He said matter-of-factly, and Luz let out a pained groan.

“Not to worry, I’ve got it covered!” King said, raising one of the sheets of paper he was working on with pride.

Hunter took it before Luz could, reading it over for a moment before giving the demon a deadpan stare. He held it for a moment before looking down at Luz, with an expression of disappointment, but certainly not surprised.

“Are you seriously this worked up over asking her on a date? She's your girlfriend."

“It's a very reasonable anxiety!” Luz protested.

“You don’t even know where the date would be!”

“You do better, then!” Luz scoffed, sitting upright and snatching the paper out of Hunter’s hands. She peered at it for a moment before grimacing and setting it aside. “Yeah, I think that’s a little too aggressive.”

“Everyone likes an assertive partner.” King insisted before Hunter lightly shoved him over.

“At least figure out where the date would be, first. If you ask and she says yes, you’re going to start panicking because you have to think up a place last-minute.” He said.

“Oh!” Luz snapped her fingers. “The Grom tree! It’s still off by the cliff, really pretty place.”

“Going to pretend I know what you’re talking about, but sure, let’s go with that.” Hunter shrugged. “There, now you can stress for the next five hours on sending a text.”

“Like you would know how stressful this is,” Luz huffed, raising her scroll again and frowning at it. “I know for a fact you’ve never been on a date before.”

“You don’t know what my life was like before you.”

“I know it was really, really depressing.”

Hunter felt around for a moment before he found one of Luz’s pillows strewn about and whacked her in the face with it. She squawked and fell back, attempting to yank the pillow from his grasp.

“Hello? This is serious business!” King huffed, waving his little claws around and somehow managing to get the two to stop. “We gotta figure out how to ask the right way, this is a delicate process.”

“Luz could insult Amity to her face and she’d still go on a date with her.” Hunter snorted, ignoring Luz’s outcry of “I would never!” beside him. “And how come you asked for his help?” He added, gesturing towards King. “He’s, like, five.”

“I am almost nine!”

“Close enough.”

“He insisted on helping, and I was not gonna go to Eda for this, I’d never hear the end of it.” Luz grumbled. “And Raine would use their dates with Eda as reference and then it’ll just turn into a whole scene of them reminiscing and me asking a million questions.”

“Love the self-awareness,” Hunter teased, reaching for her scroll. “Here, lemme see.”

“I would rather die,” Luz hissed, kicking at his chest to fend him off.

“That can still be arranged.”

“Just tell her,” King said, ignoring their bickering as he pulled himself up onto Luz’s other knee. “That you’re gonna have a date by the Grom tree. Ooo, maybe make it a picnic!”

“It’s asking for a date, not telling her to a date.” Hunter huffed, giving up on snatching the phone from Luz. “Do something flashy." He said, waving a hand around as he spoke. "Say something like; if you, by chance, are interested, I would be delighted to take you out for a meal by the Grom tree at, like, seven. I don’t know when your bedtimes are.” He shrugged.

“We don’t have bedtimes,” King scoffed. “And now you just sound like you’re overcompensating.”

“Wow, that’s a big word for you.” Hunter grinned. “Has someone been looking at a thesaurus recently?”

King squeaked angrily and launched himself at Hunter, beginning to scurry up his shirt until Hunter managed to grab him by the tail and yank him off, holding him at arms length as he dangled in the air.

“Maybe I should just send a bunch of emojis.” Luz said thoughtfully, ignoring the fighting going on beside her.

“What the hell is an emoji?” Hunter raised a brow until King managed to wiggle upright and promptly bit his hand.

Hunter yelped and dropped the demon on his head, clutching at his hand, which wasn’t even bleeding, as he glared at King attempting to get back to his feet.

“Oh you little bi--”

“Do not swear at King!” Luz warned, pointing an accusatory finger.

“He bit me!” Hunter complained.

“And you deserved it!” King shot back, scuttling behind Luz and sticking his tongue out.

“Both of you are useless.” Luz groaned, flopping back onto her pillows, barely managing to not squish King.

“Wait, wait! Send her a text that just says to meet at the Grom tree, six o’clock, sharp.” King said, shaking her. “She’ll like a mystery.”

“That makes it sound like she’s gonna murder her.” Hunter rolled his eyes. “That girl’s a romantic if I’ve ever seen one, which suits this dork perfectly, as painful as that is for me to say.” He fake-gagged as he pushed at Luz’s knee, who gave a weak kick in response. “Make it something from a trashy novel. Like; ‘I would be overjoyed to have the opportunity to be allowed to take you on an outing, of which--”

“Now who’s been reading a thesaurus?” King said, smug as Hunter cut off and glowered at him.

“I’m going to punt you through a window.” He threatened, pointing a finger. “I’m going to roll you up into a tiny ball and kick you so hard that there’s going to be a permanent indent in your body.”

“My dad could beat you up for that.”

“Guys,” Luz whined.

“Why are we even considering advice from him?” King pointed at Hunter. “Doesn’t he hate Amity?”

“First of all, it’s a mutual hatred.” Hunter said matter-of-factly. “Second of all, just because I don’t like Amity doesn’t mean I’m not going to offer assistance to Luz. This is the most fun I’ve had all day.”

“Do you even like girls?” Luz puffed, raising her head to squint at him.

“Please tell me I never gave you the impression that I did."

“See? My point exactly.” King said proudly, crossing his little arms.

“It wasn’t,” Hunter sighed, ears flicking back.

“I’m going for it.” Luz said, lifting her scroll and beginning to type.

“Wh-wait, what are you typing?” Hunter jerked around, trying to peek over as King scrambled up Luz’s back. “Is it one of my ideas? It’s gotta be one of mine.”

“It is not!” King snapped, attempting a swing that Hunter shrugged off, King almost swinging too hard and falling off.

“I really just want you two to stop talking,” Luz sighed, showing Hunter what she had said as King craned his neck to see.

You up for a picnic by the Grom tree?

Luz had only just sent it, but they could already see that Amity was beginning to type a response.

“You didn’t even tell her it was a date.” King pointed out, and Luz hurriedly began typing again as Hunter snorted at her.

As, like, a date.

“Smooth,” Hunter drawled, getting an elbow to the side for his troubles.

Barely a few moments after Luz sent her second message, the icon showing that Amity was typing vanished.

They waited for a few moments, seeing no icon pop up again. Luz lowered it to her lap and stared off at the wall with a horrified expression.

“I ruined it,” She whispered.

“Oh hush, you’re fine.” Hunter pushed at her head, almost sending her to the floor as King hopped off.

“Should’ve gone with my idea,” King tsked as Hunter peeled the scroll from Luz’s hands, who didn’t have enough time to react as he scanned over their messages.

“Is Amity’s contact seriously just a bunch of hearts?” Hunter scoffed, giving Luz a dry look.

“You don’t get to judge, you don’t even know what emojis are.” Luz muttered, weakly reaching for her scroll back.

“Yeah? These are emotes.” Hunter raised a brow, eyes squinting.

“Hunter, lo juro por Dios--”

There was a chiming ding from Luz’s scroll, and Hunter immediately held out a hand and pressed it to Luz’s face to keep her from snatching the scroll back as he read over the newest message. King climbed onto his shoulder to get a look, too.

“Don’t you dare respond for me, Hunter I will end you--”

“Relax, lovergirl. She said yes.” Hunter chuffed, handing her the scroll that she all but ripped out of his grip.

Luz read the text, then read it a few more times for good measure. It was a simple Yes! What time? and the other two thought that alone might cause Luz to crash.

“Hey, Luz,” King said as Hunter snapped in her face. “Are you still with us?”

“The time, Luz. You need to set a time.” Hunter stressed.

“Time! Right, yes! A time!” Luz jerked, blushing as she quickly began typing again. “The afternoon is a good time for a picnic, right?”

“You went in this on your own, you're leaving it on your own.” Hunter raised his hands, palms up.

“Some help you are.” Luz muttered.

“You didn’t even use my ideas! And they were great!” King whined, slumping dramatically until he ended up slipping right off Hunter’s shoulder and clunking onto the floor.

“My entertainment here is done.” Hunter said, giving a mock salute as he pushed himself upright. “Thank you for giving me a reason to be ignoring any and all calls.”

“I thought you said you annoyed Lilith into letting you leave?” King looked up from the floor, eyes narrowed.

“I mean, technically, she just told me to leave her alone.” He said, giving a shrug as he put his hands in his pockets. “She didn’t say how.”

“She’s going to actually kill you one day, you know that?” Luz spared looking up from her phone, giving him an unamused stare.

“And it’ll be my greatest accomplishment.” Hunter grinned back.

King and Luz squinted at him for a moment, sharing a quick glance with each other.

“Do you need to call your--”

“No, I do not need to call my therapist, thank you.” Hunter grumbled, ears pressing back in embarrassment as stormed towards the door. “Good luck with the date, or whatever.”

“I appreciate the support!” Luz called, already going back to typing on her scroll.

King looked over at her scroll, head resting on her shoulder as he watched what she was saying. Hunter paused in the doorway for just a moment, one ear pricked.

“What does ‘mi corazón’ mean--?”

“Nothing, stop looking!” Luz squeaked, yanking the scroll out of King’s view, face immediately flushing.

Hunter cackled loudly, one hand braced on the doorframe. He got a pillow thrown full-force at his head, but it was worth it.

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griavian · 3 years

Text

the 36 questions that lead to love

x <- read on ao3

dream finds a list of questions that can supposedly lead to two people falling in love, so him and george try it out on stream. turns out, they don't really need all 36.

“Come on, George. It’s just a couple of questions.” Dream pleaded into the call, making George roll his eyes. He’s been trying to end stream for the past 15 minutes, but Dream always convinces him to go “just a little longer!”.

“36 questions is not just a couple of questions, Dream.” George glances at his second monitor to make sure his green screen was still black and to check a few discord messages. He had no intention to fall into Dream’s trap for another hour of streaming.

“But it says it’ll lead to love!” Dream says, exasperated. He googled ‘questions to ask your friend’ earlier and found a list of them that apparently lead to falling in love. To George, it was bullshit.

“That’s such bullshit.” He expresses.

“You’re no fun.” Dream’s voice lowered, and George can feel the pout Dream has plastered on his face. He can already predict what the next 12 hours would be like with Dream: silent treatment and being a general dickhead. George was used to it when they lived an ocean apart, and even found it amusing, but it was a totally different experience living with him. Dream would mope around, go into George’s room randomly just to not talk to him, and go as far as to blast sad music from his own room across the hall while George was trying to finish up some editing. Sure, it was all light-hearted jokes, and Dream would stop his act in a heartbeat if George was truly annoyed by it, but George still dreaded it.

“Fine.”

Dream immediately cheers up and starts typing on his keyboard while George watches his chat fly by, seeing a lot of emotes and positive messages.

“Okay, um- first question. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom,” Dream mocks the formality, “would you want as a dinner guest?”

George’s nose crinkles. “How is that gonna make me fall in love with you?”

“Just answer the question.”

“I don’t know! The queen?”

“That’s a stupid answer.”

“What!” George screeches and Dream barks out a laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

“You gotta give me a better answer than that, or else we won’t fall in love with each other.”

George rolls his eyes, but decides to think about his answer. Truthfully, he wouldn’t want anyone special as a dinner guest. “Um. My mum.”

George eyes his chat as it’s filled with “aw”s. He almost scoffs.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” George wants to punt Dream into another universe.

“Alright, who would you want as a guest?”

“Tom Brady.”

“That’s the stupidest answer ever!” George yells, his eyes wide, perhaps offended that Dream picked Tom Brady out of anyone else in the world.

“Question two!” Dream ignores, “This one is kinda dumb, but would you like to be famous and if you do, what for?”

George hums. “Probably don’t want to be famous-famous. Maybe being well-known for being the first person to invent IRL-VR. I want my body to be submerged in the Minecraft universe.”

“That’s sick. I dunno what I’d want-”

“You’re already famous.”

“Shut up. I don’t even- I don’t even want to be famous, really. I just want to make whoever knows me smile.”

“Aww, isn’t that sweet, Dream.” George teases and he knows Dream waved him off. George has his habits practically memorized.

“Whatever. How about you ask some questions?” Dream sends a link on discord and George reads through them.

“There’s no way these can make people fall in love. What even is this question? Before making a telephone call, do you rehearse what you’re going to say and why?”

“Trust the process. I mean, I do that. I don’t want my brain all jumbled up, I guess. Words are hard.” Dream answers.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that. I wing it.”

“That’s very you. Next question.” Something about Dream saying that made George smile the tiniest bit, made the serotonin flow through his brain.

“What’s a ‘perfect day’ for you?” George reads. It’s quiet for a moment.

“Hanging out with you,” his voice is sincere, “You and Sapnap. Recording, streaming, anything like that. What about you?”

“Hm. Me too.”

George isn’t one to show his feelings often. He remembers being asked if he did, and he answered with “not ones that matter”. It still rings true to this day. His walls are still built up and that’s okay to George. Mushy feelings aren’t important, but he’d be damned if he didn’t say his heartstrings were playing a beautiful melody during this moment.

The questions and answers fall easily after that. George knows it’s around 1 am, and he should go to sleep, but answering the questions was kind of addicting.

“Do you have a hunch on how you’ll die?” Dream reads the question with a chuckle. “That’s such a weird question to ask someone you wanna fall in love with.”

George tries not to read in between the lines.

“Heart failure. For both of us.”

“You know how I’ll die?”

“We’re Minecraft streamers, Dream. We’ll probably die at 40.” They share jokes and giggles of scenarios where they die and what they’d do, and something about it feels a bit too honest.

“I’ll die the day you die, George. Emotionally and physically.” Dream says, dramatic as ever. George only huffs, and they leave it there.

“Name three things you and your partner have in common. Dream, do you have a secret girlfriend?” They start to bicker back and forth, because of course they do.

“It doesn’t mean romantic partner, you dumbass. Like- it’s like a science partner,” Dream sighs, “Well, we do have a lot in common. We have the same job, we care about the same things, and we love each other! Easy.” Dream answers.

“Who said I loved you?”

“You literally did last night.” George had closed chat a while ago, already prepared for what was to come. He can only imagine what they’re saying.

“They’ll never believe you.” George says with a sadistic grin.

“Ugh. Okay, what are you grateful for in life? You have to answer this.” George can hear Dream get a little closer to his mic, almost anticipating George’s answer. Dream knows how much he doesn’t like to express any feelings, and probably expects him to skip the question overall. George prevails.

“You. Obviously,” and before Dream can get out an aww, George says, “You made my career, dummy, and I’m grateful for that. And my friends, family, all the normal things. Chat! I’m even grateful for chat.”

“Well, I’m incredibly grateful for you especially.” Dream’s voice is soft, almost loving. George rolls his eyes. He could’ve guessed Dream’s answer, but it weirdly hurts him when it was spoken aloud. He doesn’t know whether it hurts because it might be a fun little joke or if it’s because someone might care about him that much. George decides to stop thinking.

They answer more questions, from taking four minutes to tell each other their life stories (“There was no reason to add that detail; you’re so gross, Dream.”) to what significant quality they would want to wake up and suddenly have (“You’re already good at code shit, George. That’s the saddest answer ever.”). They move onto section two of the list, which are deeper questions.

“Is there something you’ve dreamed of doing but haven’t yet, and why haven’t you?” George asks. He knows about Dream’s unfinished projects. There’s probably a million answers to the question, and George would listen to every single one.

“Uh, well. You know I was writing a book, yeah? I was halfway done with it, and I can’t make myself finish it. It’s probably writer’s block, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do it.” George frowned.

“You can’t finish it with that attitude, silly. You’re annoyingly amazing at everything.” George says with a snort, “I don’t have an answer to this. What did you say that one time? Your future is my future? Well, your dreams are my dreams, then.”

George cringes a little at what he said. He doesn’t know his viewer count, but knows that at least a million people will watch that clip out of context. Dream doesn’t say anything back and moves on to the next question.

“What is your most treasured memory?” Dream asks, and George immediately laughs.

“I definitely know your’s.”

“Do tell, George.”

“Our first Christmas together. Sapnap insisted on getting a real Christmas tree, and when we started decorating the stupid thing, Sapnap sees a spider and screeches. Then, our neighbors come knocking on the front door and you had to explain to them that nobody was being murdered, it was just your roommate being a big baby. And as if it could get any worse, I got tree-sap all on my fingers and clothes and you couldn’t help me because you were laughing too hard.”

“Pretty sure I almost choked on my own spit.” Dream adds, and George scoffs. “But no, that’s not my treasured memory.”

George sputters. “What? You’re telling me I told that to thousands of people for nothing?”

“To be fair, you were all soft on Christmas morning, so our first Christmas might be your treasured memory. Anyways, remember the first time you helped me with a code?” George stays silent, giving Dream the answer. “Well, that was the first time we had a real conversation. I made you laugh, then I started to laugh because you laughed, and we didn’t get the code done. It sounds dumb, but I always smile whenever I think about it.”

George’s face falters a bit. God, he just wants to hug Dream; he wants to make a beeline for his room and attack him with affection and make sure he knows that George loves him, platonically or romantically, George wants him to know.

He just can’t express it with words.

“That… sweet.” George’s eyes travel down the following questions and panics, seeing how personal the questions are. He fakes a yawn. “As mushy and stupid this thing is, I’m really tired.”

Dream doesn’t say anything. It almost scares George, but he deafens on Discord and bids farewell to his viewers, who were completely freaking out. George doesn’t blame them. He’s abruptly leaving after a sweet moment? That’s a recipe for disaster, and George knows better. Yet, he clicks the end stream button.

The door to his office swings open instantly and startles George. It was Sapnap, someone he didn’t particularly want to see.

��What the fuck was that?” His roommate whisper-yells.

George groans and slides deeper into his chair, covering his face. “I don’t know,” he muffles.

“Are you even trying to hide your feelings at this point?” He can hear Sapnap close the door and flop on his office’s couch. “You might as well buy a billboard that says ‘I’m in love with my best friend! His name is Clay!’ with a big ass picture of your dumb face beside it.”

“I know,” George whines. “Do you think he knows?”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about knowing. I’ve told you a million goddamn times that he’s too whipped to notice. I’m worried about the fans. They’re gonna go fucking bonkers because of this stream. Clips are gonna be shared. People are gonna speculate.”

George uncovers his face and narrows his eyes at his friend. “Thanks for the reassurance,” he deadpans.

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “I’m being serious, dude. I know you’re very deeply in love with him in the gayest of ways, but you gotta be careful in front of the fans.”

“Oh my God. I know, Sapnap! I know. I forgot we were even streaming. It felt like it was just the two of us, and I got too comfortable. And it was so nice. I can’t even do anything about it now, so it doesn’t even matter.”

Sapnap sighs and pulls himself from the couch. “You need to talk to him before this gets out of hand. You know I love ya, and that I’m here for you.” George cringes out of habit, but nods. It reads as ‘I love you too, I guess’.

Sapnap leaves without another word, and George is left alone with his thoughts. It’s not long before he sluggishly makes his way back to his bedroom. He opens the closed door, enters, and shuts it. He turns around, only to be greeted by a familiar person in his bed, and yelps.

Dream laughs. He’s wearing blue pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His hair looks messed with, and his cheeks seem to have more color to them. George can’t help but stare.

“Well? Aren’t we gonna finish it?”

George cocks an eyebrow.

“Finish what?”

“The questions, dummy. You don’t… you don’t have to. I mean, it’s kinda stupid that I want to do it in the first place, but…” Dream trails off. George hops on his bed and grins lightly.

“Go for it.”

They answer questions they skipped, like what is your most terrible memory (“My, uh, grandma. She died when I was about 14. It was… hard on me.” “Oh, George…”).

The overhead light was off at this point, the only light coming from a lamp on his desk and the stars shining through the window. The two are on their sides, Dream on the right of the bed and George on the left, facing each other, occasionally looking at their phones to ask the questions.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” Dream asks, his voice softer than ever. George can almost not answer. He doesn’t know.

“I’ve never been a super affectionate person, so I don’t know. I’ll give you guys quick hugs of course, but with really close relationships, I don’t know what to do.”

Dream looks as if he’s searching for something in George’s face, and George can’t tell what he’s looking for. His movements are hesitant, George sees.

“Do- um. You wanna maybe,” Dream pauses, closes his eyes,and scrunches up his face. “Try?”

“Try what?”

“Affection.” Dream lets out a breath and opens his eyes. “Affection is my strong suit, afterall.” His mouth forms into a teasing smirk despite his eyes showing nervousness.

“Um. Take the lead.”

It’s slow. So, very slow. Dream’s hand raises up and lands itself on the dip of George’s waist. He’s whispering instructions, and George listens. His hands are hung around Dream’s neck, and their legs are starting to tangle together. They laugh when they realize how far apart they are, and Dream pulls him closer. George can feel his heart beating out of his chest as he lays his head where Dream’s right shoulder meets his neck.

“Do you want me to ask the rest of the questions, sweetheart?” It sounded like a coo, and George is surprised at how effortless the pet name comes out of Dream’s mouth.

“Was that okay?” Dream whispers after a moment of George going still. He perks up.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Okay.” Dream pulls George closer and rests his left hand on his back. He starts rubbing up and down in slow motions.

George simply melts.

The questions and answers go by slower, and their voices become gentler. Dream announces that they’re on section three now, and to state three true “we” statements. Dream goes first.

“We… are cuddling?”

“Obviously, idiot.” George chuckles. “We are really tired?” Dream hums.

“We meant everything we’ve said tonight.”

“We are going to mean everything we say tonight.”

“You can’t just steal my answer.”

“Just do your third one.”

“We will be ‘Dream and George’ forever.”

Forever is a long, long time. And yet, Dream’s statement is still true.

“We don’t know what is going to happen tomorrow.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Very vague.”

“Next question, Dream.”

“Alright, alright. Complete this sentence: ‘I wish I had someone whom I could share…’”

Without a second thought, George replies, “My emotions with. Your turn.”

George swears he felt Dream squeeze him.

“My everything with. Every single little thing. Physical, metaphorical, emotional.”

“Even Patches?”

A laugh.

“Yes. Even Patches.”

“Next question.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them and be very honest.”

“Your voice. It’s like… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“Does it get you going, George?”

“Shut up. I definitely don’t like your smart-assery.” George can feel Dream lean down into George’s shoulder and smile. “I like how you act around people. It’s always different depending on the person. Different with me.”

“I like how you act around people too. You’re almost always bubbly, even though you like to say you aren’t. And, God, your laugh. It’s so overwhelming, but in the best way possible. You have no idea how many times I’ve said the stupidest shit just to hear your little laugh.” George digs his head deeper into Dream’s shoulder. “I also… really like it when you say my name. My real name.”

George raises slightly, gaining the tiniest bit of confidence. “Clay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that.”

“Clay,” George whispers.

“George.” Dream sounds weak. So, very weak. George gets closer to his ear.

“Clay.”

George can’t tell if he’s joking.

“You’re gonna kill me, George.”

George’s lips brush against the outer of Dream’s ear, and his friend shivers. He decides this isn’t a joke anymore. He thinks the invisible line they had drawn in the sand many years ago has been kicked and stomped on to the point where neither of them remembers the line being there. George goes further.

“Clay, Clay, Clay,” George is still whispering, slowly brushing his lips across Dream’s jaw, and the hands around his waist get the littlest bit tighter.

George finally raises his head to meet Dream, who was a mess. His cheeks are glowing and his eyes are almost bloodshot. His breath is labored and his hands are shaky.

“Calm down, love.” George whispers and raises his right hand to meet Dream’s cheek, who leans into the touch.

“Kiss me.” Dream begs quietly, as if saying anything louder would shatter the moment in little pieces.

An adrenaline rush fills George’s veins. “Anything you want,” he says, and closes the gap.

The kiss is soft. Dream is maneuvering their bodies to be more comfortable, meaning George is pulled on top of Dream. Their lips didn’t part once.

They move together in harmony, both in the kiss and their bodies, putting everything they got into it. It was unsaid feelings and years and years of thoughts, and George felt every single one of them. George is straddling Dream’s middle and Dream is leaning up to meet George’s touch. His hands are rubbing up and down and squeezing George’s hips and George’s hands find their way into Dream’s hair. It’s perfect and imperfect and everything George has been waiting for, yearning for.

They part, and Dream pushes their foreheads together. George assumes they look dumb, but how could he care in this moment?

“Beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Dream says, his breath tickling George’s mouth. He lets out a breath and breaks out into a smile. His hands start brushing through Dream’s hair and George backs away to get a good look. Dream is staring back.

George lunges forward and wraps his arms around Dream’s neck, sending him flat on the bed with an “oof”.

“Jesus Christ, George. A warning would be nice.”

“I love you. I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-I-love-you-” George couldn’t get enough of saying it. George’s dam cracked when Dream held him and fucking exploded when they kissed. He doesn’t have to hold back anymore, so he doesn’t.

“Slow down, baby.” Dream says through a chuckle. He makes George lean up with tans hands on pale cheeks and a lot of eye contact. “I love you, too.”

George’s breathing slows down to a normal, less-adrenaline-filled pace, and Dream kisses him again. George forces his head back up.

“What does this mean for us?”

“Isn’t it a little obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Boyfriends, George. We’re dating now.”

“How do you know I wanted to even be your boyfriend.” George narrows his eyebrows in faux-suspicion.

Dream’s stare is blank. “I mean. You’re- well- you know, um-”

George dismisses this shortly and confirms, “I want to be your boyfriend.”

Dream sighs in relief. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” George slides off Dream’s waist and lays facing him. Dream turns as well. “Was that question the last question?”

“No, actually. There were a few left.” Dream blinks, then muses, “Guess we didn’t need 36 questions after all.”

“That was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said and I hate you for it.”

“You wound me, George. You wound me.”

George makes up for it by letting himself be engulfed in Dream’s embrace, and feels tiny kisses on the top of his head. George nuzzles closer.

Yeah, everything was going to be fine.

#idk how to tag this but um anyways u should read this #I SPEEDRAN THIS SHIT IN 3-4 HOURS #dnf fic #dreamnotfound #dnf #dreamnotfound fic #dnf fic rec #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 11

CLICK HERE IF YOU ARE A FIRST TIME READER

TW for this chapter: more mild smut. more memes. more hijinks and shenanigans. coffee make the brain go skrrrt. bruce fluff & thor being a good bro™. some1 is catching ✨feelings✨. Previous chapters in the link above the cover pic.

Beta reader is @miscmarvelwritings so don't be shy, give her a read. She's the PB to my jelly.

"I don't know about you..." Taylor Swift softly sang from the speakers.

"Bitch, I hope the fuck you do!" I shouted, tumbling into the kitchen with the grace of a giraffe on acid. The smell of coffee and fresh omelettes was mouthwatering.

"You look… Good," Peter stared at me, his coffee mug frozen halfway to his mouth. The tone of his voice bore very little understanding of the situation he found himself in.

I didn't sleep that night, instead pursuing a scientific quest right after being finger-fucked by Tony Stark. I blame the suits - he had one partially disassembled not ten feet from the puddle my juices had made on the floor - and well, I never said I had a great attention span. One terrible, inappropriate joke had led us to smirking to each other from both sides of the suit as we brainstormed how to best modify it for impromptu bondage sessions. If Peter could have heard us go at it, he'd never set foot in Tony's lab ever again.

On my mighty quest to quench the thirst for knowledge, I completely neglected basic hygiene, so the me that rolled into the kitchen that morning still had yesterday's outfit consisting of fishnets and Tony's hoodie, possibly stained with cum and pussy juice. As a bonus feature, infamous raccoon eyes had made an appearance, courtesy of me rubbing my face multiple times throughout the night.

"I'm feeling my oats," I declared proudly, sitting down next to Peter, making grabby hands at the coffee machine.

"I'm tempted to ask..." Clint handed me the steaming hot dish full of holy bean juice. "But I think I'd rather not." Pointedly, he moved away from me, just enough to make it known he was wary.

"What just happened?" Stephen Strange blinked owlishly.

Boy was he a sight for sore eyes. The wizard wasn't Tony, of course, but his plain white tee left very little to imagination, pulled tight across his toned chest and lean arms. The grey sweats? Illegal. That's a bonk and a ticket to the horny jail for me.

"You didn't get to sleep? Again?" Peter asked, exasperated.

"Sleep who?" I chirped, feeling way too energetic for someone running on some illegal drugs and a single orgasm. It was easy to shrug off the concerned stares I kept getting from the adults and Pete since my already wacky attention span decided to quit it's job without notice.

"Guys, have you seen… oh, there she is!" Tony scrambled into the kitchen, holding his head. That manic look did nothing for his complexion, but then again, I'd take him even filthy and crippled. "Don't just disappear like that!" He snatched the half-empty coffee cup, downing it's remnants in one go and immediately going for a refill. "We didn't finish programming in the shibari function..." He mumbled, absentmindedly running a hand through his messy, greasy hair.

"I..." Peter was still frozen. "I'm not sure I, uh, follow."

"So, me and Tones had this absolutely BRILLIANT idea ..." I started, leaning back in my chair. "But the execution, as usual, needs more work."

"Yes, I can see you've been having ideas," Pete's sass was ignored by both me and Tony. The man was kind enough to clumsily plop a coffee cup in front of me as he was beelining for the fridge. "What are you trying to install? Shib-what?"

"You don't want to know, Pete, trust me," Clint made big eyes at me from across the room. "I'm scared of you," He added, pointing an accusative finger in my direction.

I gave him my best manic stare, probably overdid it by a wide margin. Barton shrunk back, slinking subtly behind Stephen who cleared his throat.

"So I've heard you had an incident yesterday," The doctor was looking at me with concern and pity. "Do you need to visit the medbay?"

About a dozen unsaid and very inappropriate responses later, I simply shook my head negative. My mouth was not to be trusted whilst I was so distracted. Plus, he was hot. I kind of tended to think with my vagina instead of my brain around hot people.

"Good morning," Wanda entered the room, stopping briefly at my side to give me a hug. "Ugh, finally," She muttered the words, looking first at me, then at Tony.

I raised my eyebrow in a silent question and she just smiled, reaching for her own coffee cup.

Tony mercilessly towed me back to his lab once I polished off two omelettes and another cup of coffee - what would've been my fourth was snatched out by an amused Stephen, all stern and firm and magical, meaning he simply whooshed it out of existence as I was raising it to my mouth. He didn't appreciate my choice of expletives, either, none too fondly rolling his eyes and beginning a lecture on heart attacks. Whatever, Tony was my knight in shining armour and we left the kitchen quietly plotting our mechanical plots right over the annoying doctor's mumbling.

There was quite a lot of delicate soldering involved in the gauntlets of the new suit. Having to construct and fix everything on the go proved to be harder than building a robot; even for Tony, the genius engineer himself. We had burned ourselves and nearly dislocated our wrists too many times to count. Thankfully Friday ran the calculations in the background, so we just did the manual labor part.

And coding. The pounding in my skull, the acid in my loins. My God, I hated coding during a hangover. Tony didn't fare any better and that was the best consolation, really. Despite the consumed caffeine, he passed out somewhere during the initial stage. I held out not much longer, barely catching myself as I was reclining against him on the very floor we were building on, scattered cups and tools and glowing holo-screens keeping us company.

My sleep was deep but not deep enough to miss a pair of deep male voices contemplating how to best move mine and Tony's sleeping bodies somewhere more comfortable. The engineer was a cuddler, it turns out, and refused to unwind himself from my prone body, going as far as to kick one of the men - I later learned it was Thor who got a swift punt in the shins from Tony when the Asgardian and Banner attempted to untangle our combined limbs. In the end, they settled awkwardly piling me on top of Tony and Thor single-handedly carried us all the way to Tony's penthouse, depositing us in the absolutely magnificent fluffy, enormous bed.

The bed? I wanted one as soon as I landed on it.

The fishnets? They were beginning to cut into the soft parts of my body, causing an uncomfortable stinging and itching sensation whenever I moved.

"Bwucie," I slurred with my eyes shut, feeling the man rustling around with a blanket, tucking us in. He was just the sweetest scientist.

"Sorry, we tried not to wake you up. Go back to sleep, Princess," He whispered, leaning closer to my face. His breath tickled my hair.

"M'kay, jus' wanna get these off," I weakly pulled at the offending piece of clothing.

The man chuckled. "That looks uncomfortable," Before softly sliding his hands up my legs, hooking his fingers under the stretchy waistband and pulling them down. His hands were hot and soft; my moan was softer but he heard it nonetheless, hand briefly stilling on my thigh.

I snuggled deeper into Tony, rolling onto my side and unashamedly throwing a leg over his hips, happy to find his jeans were off, too.

It appeared that Tony's teammates had already developed some sort of care protocol for their resident mad scientists. Bruce's and Thor's actions had been executed with a practiced care and gentleness. The warm fuzzy feeling in my chest blossomed fully as Bruce once more tucked the blanket around me, tenderly patting me on the back and Tony on the shoulder.

"You'nThor, y'the best," I managed to wiggle out the words out of my muddled, uncooperative brain before returning back to the dreamland.

It felt like another ten minute nap when I woke up again. The lights in the room were off, the NYC skyline providing the illumination instead. Tony was still in bed with me, his breathing even and the quiet hum of the arc reactor steady under my ear. It was the first time I'd been close enough to him to hear the sound of it.

Sleep slowly seeped out of my body, lead disappearing from my limbs. It seemed like I hadn't moved at all. Once my head cleared up, the confusion seeped in. I'd gone to second base with Tony and we did science and never spoke of it again. He didn't kiss me, didn't touch me more than usual - but didn't resist a good ole sleepy cuddle.

What now? I never thought I'd actually get this far. Some part of me - probably the same part that sent me on a romantic novel reading spree a couple of years ago - thought he'd wake up, confess his secret love and attraction for me and we'd seal it with a kiss. Yeah, no, that sounded disgustingly unrealistic even to my own ears. There was no way I would be kissing someone with this swamp I had going on in my mouth.

I wasn't actually that naïve. Why would a man like him pursue something serious with a girl like me? I was a child in his eyes. In fact, all of the Avengers minus Wanda and Bucky treated me like a child. I knew why and I still hated it. I've been taking care of myself in all the ways but financial for years, surely, they had to have noticed that. Teachers in school certainly did. Bruce did, to some extent, I had to admit begrudgingly. Even if his behaviour was really peculiar sometimes.

"Do I make a comfortable pillow, Princess?" A chuckle startled me out of my musings. Tony sounded relaxed and warm and cosy.

"Yeah," I answered honestly, tilting to see his face. He was giving me that lopsided smirk, the one he previously saved for science and Peter and Clint's baking ventures. Something within me stirred, painfully tightening my chest, and I fought against it to preserve this memory like this - happy, carefree.

His thumb found it's way around me, tracing the line of my jaw with surprising tenderness. He was looking at me like I was made of glass. Like I was the most beautiful sculpture he'd ever seen.

I scrunched my nose when his finger found my lips. "I need a shower and a toothbrush," I declared, not knowing what else to do. All of this - the atmosphere, the shared comfort, the looks - it felt too intimate somehow. Having to be on full display of his intelligent, deep brown eyes was terrifying: I felt like crying one moment and laughing the next.

"I was having a moment here," Tony snorted indignantly but relented nonetheless, slowly pushing himself up in a sitting position.

I admired his broad shoulders and the dips and valleys of his arms as he stretched; he caught me staring and winked, of course. I retaliated with skimming my fingertips under the hem of his tee, lightly scratching my nails over his defined abs, delighted with his shiver.

"Behave," He sternly mouthed, following with a smile.

"Never," I smiled back, slipping into banter with comfortable familiarity.

He then led me to the huge walk-in shower, unashamedly stripping off his shirt and socks on the way. Boxers were the last, flying somewhere over my head. My hormones were a raging inferno, or, at least that's what I would have said if someone asked me why the 'loading' icon was hanging over my head as I stared at Tony's round, firm ass. I had to touch it. I absolutely had to touch it, at least once in my life.

My dignity was saved by my own yawn. Tony's hands used the opportunity to slide his hoodie (RIP) over my head, exposing me to the cold air. I shivered in my lacy bra and panties until they were gone, too. My flaws stared back at me from the wall-length mirror and with the way Tony's hands gently settled over my stomach, another hand copping a feel of my breast, I couldn't bring myself to care.

"Beautiful, Princess," He simply said, having noticed the frown on my face.

"No, you," I automatically replied, smirking.

"Me? Nah," He shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing to his arc reactor. "Sexy, however... I'm definitely fucking hot," He leered, pressing his hips into mine with a knowing smirk.

I wiggled my butt, taking my time to turn around and face him. I saw right through the defenses he'd put up. The team didn't start calling me "girl version of Tony" without a reason - I knew we were quite similar in the less desirable character trait category. Impulsive, selfish. Defensive.

Angry red lines spanned across his chest, some faded, some raised. In the middle of it all, the arc reactor shone like a blue little sun in its metal framing. I traced around it, feeling the uneven skin, bumps and dips of it. "It keeps you alive. That's more than enough. For me," I placed a chaste kiss right in the middle of it.

I wished he didn't have to have the thing. I wished he'd never had to go through what he went though in Afghanistan - for me, the press release I'd read was enough to get a grasp on the fact he was tortured and hurt and fucked up in there.

Stepping into the shower, I retreated from him, retreated from my feelings getting in the way and ruining the fun. The least I wanted to do was humiliate myself by crying out of... Out of what, pity? Lovesickness?

"I'm starting to see why everybody else thinks we might be related," Tony's chuckle sounded tired and slightly forced.

"I hope not," A moment to figure out what knob to turn and hot water rained down my body. Almost instantly, the tension in me melted away. "I'm not really into incest and shit."

"Ew," He walked under the stream, sighing agreeably. "But you're into bondage, so you've got that going on for you."

"Yep. Bondage and hot old dudes," I shrugged, reaching for the shampoo.

"I definitely qualify for all three," Tony promptly snatched the bottle out of my hands, standing behind me to do the tedious task of washing me. I allowed, guiltlessly enjoying the treatment. His dexterous fingers massaged my scalp, caressed my body.

A moan slipped out of me at the glide of his hand across my nether regions.

"Tut-tut, Birdbrain is going to pitch a fit if we're late for dinner!"

"Fuck the Chicken," I announced petulantly, attempting to follow the motion of his hand with my hips. He held me firmly by my stomach, only succeeding in adding fuel to the fire within me. "Tony-y-y..."

"Nu-uh," He replied, but the smile hidden in my shoulder and the boner poking me in the hip gave him away.

"Sir?" I tried, getting a low groan in response. "Master? Owner? Daddy?"

His breath stuttered at the last syllable, teeth closing none-too-gently around a patch of my skin. I felt a bruise bloom under his mouth, the delicious pull of it making me realize I'd be marked by Tony for days. A full-body shudder erupted from me at the thought.

"You're trouble," He growled, grinding his own arousal into my ass. "Filthy, spoiled brat," Tony punctuated his words with another claiming bite on my shoulder blade.

"I'm your trouble now," I smirked, relishing in all the attention my body was getting. The fingers that granted me sweet ecstasy at night a fresh memory in my mind, I relented my own urgent need in favour of repaying the man of my dreams for his troubles.

One smirk and my knees rested comfortably on the strangely soft floor of the shower. I came face to face with Tony's hard cock. It stood proudly, the flushed tip of it dripping - with water or pre-come, I didn't know, but was eager to find out.

"Fuck," Tony gasped, gazing down at me in astonishment as I tongued the slit of his cockhead. "You dirty little thing," He seemed to gather his wits quickly enough, bracing himself against the wall with one hand.

He was just about to find out how dirty, I decided. There was something satisfying on a purely primal level, seeing a powerful man absolutely losing it with his dick in my mouth. Rapidly, I swallowed as much of him as I could. His girth throbbed.

"Ruin me?" I popped off, resting my cheek against the hardness of it, tugging on his free hand to place it in my hair. My own arousal flared in response to his bewildered hunger.

Tony wasted no time in fisting a hand in my hair, carefully but firmly putting my mouth onto his cock. Inch after inch disappeared within my mouth; I was breathing through my nose as he slowly began fucking my mouth.

"Fuck, Jesus Christ, Princess, fuck," The mantra fell from his lips, echoing in the large room, mixing in with the water still pouring onto our bodies from above. The heat of it had nothing on the smouldering fire in my belly where it coiled tight and low. Tony's musk on my tongue, the firm hold on my hair. He truly held me, in body and in mind. There was nowhere else I'd rather be than on my knees for him.

I moaned around him causing a stutter in the moderate tempo. Our eyes met: his, wide and gleaming captured my own and I couldn't look away. With a wanton moan, Tony increased the pace, it quickly became brutal and punishing. I held onto his thighs for dear life, wordlessly pleading him to use my mouth for his own pleasure.

And he took it, shamelessly, emptying himself into my mouth with a groan that nearly made me come untouched. It was beautiful and I swallowed every drop of him, refusing to let the evidence of his bliss go to waste.

"Fuck," His voice was ragged.

I rested my cheek against his thick thigh, catching my breath. "Good?" Just to quickly be pulled to my feet, trapped between his hot, wet body and the chilly tiles of the nearest wall. The shiver that ran through me was only partially caused by the sudden change in temperature.

"You did so good, you're my good girl," He mumbled against my lips, sliding his tongue into my mouth without any restraint. His other hand slid between my legs, immediately toying with my clit. That and the hastily spoken praise coupled with the feverish way he was licking himself out of my mouth sent me over the edge, until I was falling, stumbling head-first into an ecstatic abyss.

"Mmm... Tony," Dreamily, I savoured the moment.

"Oh, we're back to first name basis?" He snarked, finally turning off the water.

Pliant as ever, I followed him out of the shower and into his walk-in closet where he pointed at a row of t-shirts and hoodies. I grinned mischievously as I took my pick. "Daddy?"

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @softie-socks @sleep-i-ness @gigglyfox01 @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn

#tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark smut #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #bun writes #party favours

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firemblem-fics · 4 years

Text

SFW alphabet. | felix

-> Pairing: Felix x GN!Reader

-> Warnings: None

-> Genre: Fluff, Headcanons

-> A/N: i felt bad for spamming y’all with all kinds of asks and apparently drama or whatever the hell happened earlier so i decided to try my hand at the sfw alphabet, for felix since y’all go batshit feral for him. if all goes well, i may open up requests for them for my 1.2k special. but i def wouldn’t do the entire alfabit for one character this took me so long. also i’m at 1145 tho y’all so don’t request anything please-

warning, long post.

A -> Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they give affection?)

felix really isn’t that affectionate, even after being in a relationship for a long time. he prefers to show his love through acts of service like me but the occasional hug and kiss is never unwanted

if felix does give affection, it’s small and subtle. holding your pinky as you walk through the monastery halls, resting his hand on your thigh underneath the dining table, those kinds of things. even if you’re cuddling at night, it’s the small circles he rubs into your back and the gentle kisses he peppers on your forehead.

B -> Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

you would 100% be the person to start it. felix would quite literally never do it. he wasn’t even sure that what he was feeling was romantic until you confessed to him and his heart leaped ten feet in the air

it starts slowly- you’re felix’s first relationship. he’s afraid to mess things up, so he’s going to test the waters and move at a pace that both you and he are comfortable with

C -> Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

like the affection hc, felix isn’t a big cuddler. it’s rare for him to initiate, and he only will after a long day. at night, while he’s asleep, he may unconsciously wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer, but often times cuddling just involves an arm around you as the two of you sit in the knights hall

D -> Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning?)

felix never really considered his future before he met you. he wants to settle down with you, trust me, but it’s not really the biggest thing on his mind at the moment. after the war and after the dust has settled and life is back in order, he’ll consider it

felix does his fair share of housework. he believes that in relationships, you do equal amounts and he will always do his part. even if it takes him a while to learn how to cook

E -> Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

unfortunately, felix would be extremely cold to you. chances are, he broke things off because he feels like he’s a danger to you or is afraid of not being able to protect you, so he breaks things off to avoid getting attached

he won’t look at you at all afterwards. he won’t talk to you, be in the same room as you, or anything. he’s all nonchalant on the outside, but is definitely hurting as much as you are on the inside

F -> Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Would they get married?)

you actually asked him this

felix is good with staying committed to you. he’s very very good at it. he only has eyes for you and it’s easy to keep trust in him because you’re honestly really surprised he agreed to even be in a relationship in the first place. not that you’re complaining ofc

marriage is a yes. he’s going to propose to you, but not now or in the near future. there’s a war to win

G -> Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

felix is afraid of hurting you. physically and emotionally. he knows that he gets angry often and it’s one of his biggest goals to never snap at you the way he does others. it’s hard to do- containing his snarky comments- but he’ll work on it for you

H -> Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

his hugs are pure safety. every embrace is a silent promise that felix will always be there to protect you. the hugs strong and solid and so full of love, especially when he squeezes you a little tighter before having to let go. even he enjoys them because he gets to have you close

because he doesn’t show affection often, felix’s hugs are extra special. they happen whenever you’re reunited after a fight, or if either of you have an injury and give the other a scare. they’re a reassurance to him that you’re still there, alive and loving him

I -> I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

just like the confession, you’ve gotta say it first. felix will internally panic about messing it up or saying it at the wrong time or you not reciprocating, so he won’t say it first.

felix isn’t one for words of affirmation or affection. he’s not going to say it unless it’s in the heat of the moment

J -> Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

felix doesn’t get jealous easily. except around dimitri, but that’s another story. he trusts you to stay loyal and everyone knows that your his anyways, so he doesn’t worry. if they try anything, he’ll kill them

often, it’s just throwing insults at dimitri. he just doesn’t think that a Boar should be talking to such a perfect being such as you, but also because he’s quite aware of dimitri’s attractiveness and sometimes feels a little intimidated in the looks department. but he’ll never tell you that.

K -> Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

passionate. loving. full of emotion. every time felix kisses you, there’s just this flowing warmth in your chest and you can never stop the grin from etching itself on your face. felix isn’t as stingy with kisses as he is hugs and such, giving small pecks to you as greetings and goodbyes, or just little rewards throughout the day for a good day training or something

felix likes to kiss you on your forehead. he does it every time he’s got you wrapped up in an embrace, as if placing a little promise on your head that he will always love you.

he’s a traditional man, though. he wants to be kissed on the lips. he’ll never ever ever get tired of the feeling of your lips against his, sending sparks through his body every time.

L -> Little Ones (How are they around children?)

felix is so incredibly awkward. children love him to death, often flocking around him to hear tales of fights or just to watch him train, their little mouths slackjawed in awe as they aspired to be like him when they grew up

he never knows what to do when one clings themselves to his leg in a hello hug. the angel on his shoulder says to allow it, but the devil on the other side says to punt the kid across the courtyard. luckily he’s got enough self control to not.

M -> Mornings (How are mornings spent with them?)

felix is an early bird, much to your dismay. he wakes up at the crack of dawn to train before breakfast, but he always gives you a kiss goodbye and makes sure that you’re comfy and happy before leaving

on the mornings that you convince him to stay in for a while, which is rare, he doesn’t fall back asleep. instead, he just watches you as you doze off again, holding you close to him. he’s much softer when you’re not awake enough to tease him

N -> Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

felix lays on his back and you curl into his side, laying your head against his bare chest. silently, you trace your fingers against the scars on his torso and he writes sweet nothings on the skin of your arm, lulling you into a blissful sleep.

O -> Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

felix would never fully open himself up really. it’s just you being able to remember things that he did tell you and piecing them together. it’s not that he doesn’t trust you enough to tell you, it’s just that he’s not one to talk about things. you respect that, of course.

P -> Patience (How easily angered are they?)

as we all know, felix is quick to anger. he still is with others, but he’s really working on it when it comes to you. sometimes, he just gets worried about your well-being and his anxiety shows itself through anger, so small arguments often happen when you’re reckless or not taking care of yourself

he’s trying super hard to work on his communication skills so that he never upsets you with his outbursts again. he has his slip ups, but now that he’s able to verbally apologize, things get solved quicker.

Q -> Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

felix remembers everything, even if he doesn’t show it. he may seem extremely uninterested in the necklace you pointed out at the market after you dragged him shopping, but he’s making a mental note to come back later that day and buy it for you

R -> Remember (What’s their favorite moment in your relationship?)

felix’s favorite moment was when you first met his father. as rude as he is to his dad, he genuinely cares about him and his opinions. his father absolutely adored you and immediately told felix that you were the one. he agreed.

S -> Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

it’s felix. hes protective. there’s a line to be crossed between protective and possessive and he just barely tip toes that line. he’d destroy anyone who bothered you if you asked

on the other hand, felix doesn’t like to actually be protected. it makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so he’d prefer it if you weren’t too overbearing with it. he does think it’s hot if you get protective over him when it comes to some girl flirting with him though

T -> Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, etc?)

it depends on what your preferences are. if you’re okay with laid back dates and casual things, then he would be too. if you liked more grandeur, he’d try his hardest to make it perfect. goddess forbid anyone see him doing it, though

U -> Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

closing himself off. felix isn’t used to being vulnerable or open with people. hes been through copious amounts of trauma that he can’t just get over in a day, so there are still bad days where he’s not going to want to talk about his feelings or talk to anyone at all. it’s best to just let him train that day and bring him his meals. he’ll eat them, and will be super grateful that you’re still there for him, even if it’s just for a second to bring food.

V -> Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

felix does not care about this at all. he’s usually an advocate of the “fuck what other people think” mentality, even if he’s not too good at following it himself, and that’s going to carry into your relationship. he loves you for yourself, no matter what

W -> Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

felix would tell himself that he’d be fine with or without an s/o, but he does feel a little empty when you’re not around. the days that you two may have to spend apart due to busy schedules mean that those nights are a little more tender than usual

X -> Xtra (A random headcanon of them.)

felix’s ideal date isn’t training, like people say it would be. yeah, it’s nice to train with you, but if you don’t want that to be a date then it won’t be. he’d much rather just a chill day where the two of you are curled up on a couch or in the bed, talking and eating snacks or reading in silence

Y -> Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, in general or with a partner?)

felix wouldn’t like someone who’s nosy or pushy. he’s got a lot of boundaries and it’s a big deal to him when they’re crossed. he wants to be able to talk and be comfortable on his own time, not someone else’s. please be patient with him.

Z -> Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

felix is a kicker. you don’t know if it’s just his insanely acute battle instincts trying to get someone out of his bed or what, but you once woke up with a huge bruise on your calf from his heel. you didn’t tell him that he kicked you, though, because then he’d feel bad

this doesn’t really change at first, but the longer the two of you sleep together the less severe the kicks become. other than the occasional horse kick that nearly knocks you off the bed.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem three houses x reader #x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #headcanons #felix #felix x reader #felix fraldarius #felix hugo fraldarius x reader #felix hugo fraldarius #felix fraldarius x reader #felix fraldarius imagines #lay writes #sfw alphabet

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sokkisky · 3 years

Text

~baby bird part five~

Want to make a request?: https://forms.gle/NyZgUcqkCPzHRvVn6

Ghost School RP Discord: https://discord.gg/5mschvebTn

Rating: SFW (Angst, Fluff)

Pairings: Keigo Takami (Hawks) x Y/N

Warnings: Kidnapping, Pain/Torture (Not to the child, no toucha da child), Violence, Blood

A/N: OMG THIS IS INSANE! This is seriously a PART FIVE. This is such a cute little series. Part Five is a bit of a prequel though, it takes place BEFORE THE CHILD CAN USE THE WINGS. They’re not even there yet. So that’s a little important. Once again if any of the warnings trigger you, please do not read. And in the immortal words of Aphmau “No toucha da child”. No harm will come to the baby, nobody will be punting any children around here. But yeah! It’s crazy because this is how this whole series started. A kidnapping. Full circle. I’m planning on keeping this going if it continues to be requested, it’s so adorable and yeah, here are the requests. Yes with an S.

I think I request something where hawks x reader where there baby gets kidnapped something like that just in case I didn’t there we go angst to fluff <3

Sorry sorry me again LMAO I love your writing ❤️ Hawks x reader I think I requested this just in case though where the baby gets kidnapped so does the reader the reader gets tortured to save her baby but LUCKILY hawks brought endeavor and the rest of the hero commission and saves her but the baby is safe though ( no pain on the baby ) angst to fluff

Baby x reader gets kidnapped hawks series!!!!

READER AND THEIR CHILD GET KIDNAPPEDDDDDD and HAWKS has to SAVE THEM!

As you can see, this is a highly requested topic. Thank you @wafflesareniceandfluffy and anons. I’m vv excited and everything. While the second request is slightly different, i think I’m going to stick to the whole Hawks’ saves them. Also I’ve been asked a few questions

Your name? - Sokki <3

2. Can we have links to the rest of the series? - Yes <3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Now let’s get started! Remember to take care of yourselves, be kind to yourself and you ARE WORTH THE WORLD! Please don’t ever forget that. I hope you guys enjoy!

Keigo slammed his hand on the desk. His wings fluttered sporadically with fury.

Again, he let it happen again.

You were gone. His precious baby was gone. He lost the two most important things to him.

Again

~~~

“Fro yo!” your two year old excited said pointing to the frozen yogurt stall up the street. You smiled and looked over to Keigo. “She’s been good today, I’ll go get the fro yo, what do you want?” you asked him, holding your daughter in your arms as she wiggled trying to get to the frozen yogurt stand. Keigo smiled and kissed your forehead, “I’m fine, I just have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back okay?” he said. You nodded as he walked off and you headed towards the fro yo stand with your daughter.

Keigo walked out, his wings relaxed as he looked around. He saw the frozen yogurt cart, but you weren’t there. No biggie he’d thought you’d ordered by now. He looked around the plaza, trying to see you or his kid. He opened his phone and called you.

No answer.

He texted you, not panicking yet. This was a public place, surely if something happened someone would see,

Right?

He checked his phone again, still no answer. He called you again, and again, and again.

No answer.

Now he began to panic. He went up to the frozen yogurt stall but the worker said he hadn’t served anyone that matched your description. Nor anyone with a kid. Keigo hoisted himself in the air, flying above the people looking for you. He called out your name to no answer. He desperately flew around the plaza searching for you.

It was clear however, that you were gone.

~~~

His eyes were clouded with tears as he screamed out. Crying in a mix of fury and sadness. It had been two days now and there were no traces of you or his daughter, like the two of you never existed. He clutched your family photo in his hands tightly as he leaned over on his knees, crying out. His tears dripped to the floor as his body shook. He dropped his forehead to the ground, the tears never stopping. He sobbed loudly unlike he’d ever cried before. His body hurt, his chest felt as if it was going to cave in and collapse on itself. His heart stung.

He failed you.

He lost you.

His mind raced with all the horrible things that could be happening. He remembered how he found you last time, but now they had his daughter. He wanted to throw up thinking about all of the horrible things they would do to his daughter, to you, his only family.

He sat on the ground, upright now, his hands trembling as he stared at the photo. You were there in his arms as he flew above the ground. Your baby in your arms. You both smiled brightly and your daughter was laughing.

Her laugh. Keigo’s pain was sent back in waves as the realization hit that he might never hear her laughs again. He’d never hear her excited giggles or her tiny laughter when they played hide and seek. He’d never again tickle her or fly up into the air with her.

He wanted to go out, to search again. Just one more time to go and see if he could find any clues. He hadn’t slept peacefully in so long his mind filled with nightmares about what you may be enduring.

What if you were dead?

He got up, outstretching his wings and took off towards the city again, looking around each corner, into every alleyway, moving everything around that might be a hidden door. He searched the city sector by sector, up down and all around. He watched the people, watched their movements. Listened for any words that may be clues. He felt his hope begin to drain.

That was until he heard a faint and distant scream.

~~~

“No! No!” you heard your daughter shout. Her screams were so loud. Your body was bruised and battered. Neither of you had eaten or drank in the past two days. You stayed as alert as you could, shielding your daughter from the hurt that was happening to you. You tried to keep her happy, but it was hard when you were so beaten, your body in constant pain and ache.

You always kept on a brave smile for her.

~~~

“Stop it! My daddy is gonna get you!” your daughter screamed from the cage they’d put her in.

“Close your eyes!” you shouted back at her sternly as the first guy pulled out a large whip. “Welcome to our encore sweet heart, enjoy the show!” he shouted, the whip coming down hard on your chained up body.

~~~

You looked to the doorway, watching as the first guys chased after your daughter. “Run baby run!” you shouted, praying she’d make it to the door on time. You watched as your daughter made it out of your sight but you could still hear her.

Your hands were chained to the walls, your arms out. You heard her banging on the steel entrance before another loud scream erupted from the hallway. You scream out your daughter’s name, the guy must’ve caught up to her.

Tears flowed down your eyes as you heard a loud thud, like a skull hitting the hard cement wall.

Your daughter was silent.

You cried, calling her her name, begging for an answer. There was no response.

You broke down, sobbing, your precious daughter,

until a little red feather landed at your feet.

You looked up with tearful eyes to see an angry Keigo in the doorway, your daughter safely in his arms. He stalked into the room, his anger practically radiating off of him, creating a dark aura in the room. The guy who was watching you nearly stumbled before blowing a whistle. Dozens of men ran out of the back room, armed with clubs and knives.

You relaxed, your daughter was safe.

A storm of red filled the room, each feather flying with precise accuracy. Keigo pulled his daughter to his chest, covering her ears and singing close to them, drawing out the sound of the screaming and pained men. Drowning out the voices begging for mercy.

He didn’t want her to know those sounds right now.

Once his feathers finally settled the room was nothing but a lost battlefield. Bodies laid limp across the floor. A mix of blood, shredded clothing and tears scattered around. A feather moved to your chains and undoing them before a group of them hoisted you up carrying you to Hawks.

Some feathers moved to lift your daughter, holding her to face the ceiling so she wouldn’t see the carnage her father had made. He held you in his arms bridal style before using his feathers to set your daughter in your arms. Her face was buried in Keigo’s chest as he instructed.

Keigo walked out holding the two of you, tears running down his cheeks.

~~~

Keigo flew the two of you to a summer home away from the city and far from your old home. He put his daughter to bed, holding her extremely close for a long time, even after she’d fallen asleep, before joining you in the living room to help you heal and take care of your wounds. You stood in the middle of the living room, wrapping gauze around your slit and cut torso, the marks not stinging as much now.

Keigo walked in and saw you. He pulled you into his arms. His head fell to your shoulder and he cried.

“I’m so sorry songbird. I shouldn’t have ever let this happen. I’m supposed to protect you!” he cried out, his hands clutching your cropped shirt. You held him back, tears daring to drop from your eyes as you watched him break down into a pit of guilt.

He sank to his knees in front of you, his head buried in your tummy as he cried, his arms wrapped around your waist.

“I don’t deserve you if I can’t keep you safe, can’t keep the two of you safe.”

You squatted down, your head resting on his as he held you, you ran your fingers through his hair. His body shook as he cried, holding onto you tighter than he’d held before.

You planted a kiss on his forehead prompting him to look up at you, his eyes red and puffy, soaked in tears.

“Thank you Keigo.”

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trashyswitch · 3 years

Text

Jeremy Meets Helpy

Chapter 1

Jeremy has been trying to make the best of his life after his nightmare in Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. But his loneliness is about to be changed for the better from a source he least expected...

For @kanene-yaaay

This was just a fun idea I had. I just kept imagining what would happen if Jeremy met Helpy. And this was my answer! I hope you enjoy!

Jeremy was sitting in his house, reading a book. He was growing bored out of his mind from having almost nothing to do. He already got home from work, so he didn’t have anything to look forward to besides sleep. Sometimes, even sleep wasn’t fun...The painful memories of getting bitten while working would sometimes come back to him. He would feel his scar, drag his finger around the scar and would either cry or try to distract himself.

Sometimes distractions like TV, his phone or other things will help. But...sometimes it didn’t. And he would end up crying anyway. Truth be told, he was trying to make the most of his life. But...there were only a few good memories he could really think of.

Suddenly, a crash could be heard from the kitchen. Jeremy widened his eyes, got himself up and grabbed a nearby weapon. It was his garbage lid, and it was the only thing closest to him at that moment. Jeremy held onto it for dear life just like a shield, and quietly walked himself to the kitchen. When he looked in the kitchen, it looked like there was no one visibly in there. But his eyes fell upon a rattling colored box near the phone. It usually had binders, folders and his resume in there. But the stuff was being thrown and scattered all over.

Jeremy slowly brought himself to the box, picking up his folders and binders. He looked inside the box and…

It was purple...and shiny. Unsure of what else to do, Jeremy dropped the binders and folders into the box. The items hit the purple thing and let out a small noise:

“Ouch!”

It was weirdly high-pitched. It sounded like a weird, high-pitched robot voice that you’d give a fake hamster. Like those zhu zhu pets! Some of them had high-pitched voices!

Jeremy removed the binders & folders, and picked up the purple thing like a toddler. “Huh? Uhoh!” The thing reacted. Its back was facing Jeremy, allowing it to look around the room. It had ears! And arms, and legs! It also had a big middle.

The purple thing wiggled around a little and tried to turn its head around. Jeremy awkwardly looked at its back side and widened his eyes as a logo across the waist stuck out to him:

[Fazbear Entertainment]

FAZBEAR WHAT?!

Jeremy shrieked and dropped the thing, causing it to hit the ground and bounce. “Ouch! Oof! Ow!” The purple thing reacted as it bounced. It lifted its head up. “Where am I?” it asked next, looking around. Finally, the purple thing turned itself around and revealed its face and front body to him. “Oh! Hi!” The little thing said happily, waving.

It was a bear! A purple, plastic-looking bear!

Jeremy was shaking, growing super nervous. He knew the thing was tiny. He knew the thing could probably be punted 8 feet away. But it still scared him. Anything from Fazbear Entertainment scared him. He sensed that even the tiniest little thing like this, could find a way to hurt him too.

“Wow! Big!” It reacted, reaching its arms up.

Jeremy’s eyes shrunk a bit as he tried carefully poking it with his foot. The little bear, looking confused, tried to push his foot away. Jeremy raised an eyebrow and tried pushing the bear away with his arch against his forehead. The little bear let out a yelp of some sort, and tried to push the foot away again, or run towards it to force the foot in front. The look of the tiny purple bear, waving its arms around while his foot was against its forehead, was...kinda funny and cute.

Jeremy tilted his head and smiled a bit.

“Get off! Get off me, foot!” the bear yelled. The yelling did nothing, other than make Jeremy reconsider how scary this bear was. The bear removed the foot from his forehead and held onto it. Then, the bear started to smile. It placed its fingers onto his foot and started wiggling. “Tickle tickle!”

Jeremy yelped and pulled his foot away, causing the bear to fly up too. “Weeee!”

Jeremy hummed and widened his eyes when he realized the bear was holding onto his foot still. He was currently a couple feet in the air! Not sure what else to do, Jeremy awkwardly picked it up, and held it.

The bear giggled and looked at him with the biggest, cutest eyes. “Again!”

Jeremy smiled a little more. “Maybe in a bit.” He replied.

The bear hummed, and tilted his head. “Oh! Look!” The bear looked up at his ears, and started wiggling them in and out, in and out.

Jeremy couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Wow!” he replied enthusiastically. The bear let out its own giggle and covered its mouth. “Now: How did you get here?” Jeremy asked.

The bear pointed to the open window at the sink. Jeremy hung his head and sighed. He always forgets to close that window...

“So...You’re part of Freddy Fazbear’s?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy nodded his head. “Pizza!” The bear replied excitedly, throwing its hands into the air.

Feeling extra excited, the bear then pulled an air horn out of its purple belly and honked it in Jeremy’s face. Jeremy shrieked and dropped the bear, covering his ears in annoyance. The bear fell onto the ground with a crash…

A cracking sound could be heard for a moment as well…

Jeremy widened his eyes and uncovered his ears. “Oh shit...Are you okay?!” Jeremy asked.

The bear jumped right up onto its feet again with a giggle. Only...its little neck was not looking too good. The head was rotated a little too much to the side. That must’ve been what cracked. Next, the bear turned its neck back in front, emitting another loud crack sound.

Jeremy cringed and let out a little yip sound. Did- Did this bear just crack its neck and snap it back into place?! Jeremy had dropped his jaw in horror. What in the world was this thing?!

“D-Do you...have a name?” Jeremy asked.

The bear ran up and hugged Jeremy’s left leg. “Helpy loves you!” it replied while snuggling its face into his lower leg.

Helpy...This little bear’s name is Helpy. Jeremy smiled wider. “Helpy…” Jeremy said out loud. “He or her?” Jeremy asked.

The bear thought for a moment as it went back in its memories. A few seconds later, it finally answered. “Helpy a boy!” Jeremy giggled at the childish grammer.

Wanting to learn about Jeremy, Helpy looked up at him with curious eyes and pointed at Jeremy. Jeremy cleared his throat. “I’m Jeremy. I’m a boy too.” Jeremy replied.

Helpy gave Jeremy a big smile and let go of his leg. “Jeh...Jeeewwwa...eeemy- Jemy!” Helpy quickly declared, before breaking out in somewhat stop-motioned happy dancing. Jeremy giggled at the little bear’s cute little dance moves and watched him jump around and shake its booty. How in the world did such a shady cooperation manage to make such a cute little being?!

Jeremy couldn’t help but dance a little with him too. Helpy gasped at this and grabbed onto his leg while Jeremy danced. Jeremy stopped dancing and crossed his arms. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” He asked. Helpy replied by snuggling his face into his leg again and attempted to kiss his leg. It was more like a mouth clunk than an actual kiss though. Jeremy giggled at this more and picked him up. “Come here little Helpy.” He said.

Helpy squealed and threw his arms up excitedly as he was picked up. “Airplane! Airplane Helpy!” The little bear declared.

Jeremy brought Helpy closer and gave Helpy a big hug and a pat on the back. Helpy squealed happily and hugged him back. He also started giving Jeremy ‘kisses’, or cold head clunks, on his jawline and cheek.

Jeremy giggled and snickered at the weirdly ticklish kisses. Though they were meant to be loving, they were more awkward and tickly than anything. “Thahat tickles, Helpy.” He told the bear.

Helpy narrowed its eyes at him and opened his mouth to show off his buck-toothed smile. Jeremy widened his eyes and quickly realized he may have made a mistake with his words. Helpy brought his hands over and with no hesitation, it started skittering its fingers on his neck. Jeremy squeaked and giggled a little more. “Hehehelpy dohohohon’t!” Jeremy warned.

“Tickle tickle!” Helpy teased, wiggling its ears as he tickled him. Jeremy quickly brought Helpy away from his chest and neck and held him outwards in front of him.

Helpy went dazed for a moment or two. Confused, Helpy tapped his finger on his chin as he looked at Jeremy’s hands. Also wanting another hug, Helpy reached his arms out and looked at him with big, sad eyes.

“Are you gonna tickle me again?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy let out an auto tuned whimper and tilted his head as he reached for Jeremy.

“Listen to me:” Jeremy ordered softly. “Are you going to tickle me when I hug you?”

Helpy shook his head and made a humming sound to go with it. Then, he went back to reaching his arms out and waving his fingers. Jeremy sighed with defeat. He just couldn’t say no to this guy. It was impossible. So, he brought him into another hug.

Much like Jeremy kind of suspected, Helpy was clearly lying about the ‘not tickling you’ thing. Helpy went right back to tickling his neck the moment he made contact with Jeremy’s shoulders. This time though, Jeremy didn’t force him away. He decided to remain in the hug and just giggled away while Helpy tickled his neck. “Hehehehehe! Ihihi knehehew ihit, ya lihittle lihihihihier.” Jeremy said to him.

“Tickle tickle!” Helpy said, tickling under his chin too.

Jeremy moved his chin away and tittered with giggles mixed in. “Ohokahay, little Helpy. Should we find out where you came from?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy widened his eyes and frantically shook his head. He liked Jeremy! And he didn’t wanna leave him! Especially not now! Helpy wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s neck and refused to let go of him. Jeremy chuckled and let him hold on desperately to the back of his neck. He was surprisingly light for something made of plastic and metal parts.

“Do I have to find out if you’re ticklish too?” Jeremy asked.

Helpy widened his eyes and smiled a little more at that. Just for the sake of it, he refused to let go.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Jeremy started skittering his fingers on Helpy’s sides and lower ‘rib’ area.

Helpy let out a little squeal and quickly started kicking his tiny feet. “Aahaha! Jemy! hehehe Jehemy! I’m gonna fall!” Helpy giggled.

Jeremy widened his eyes in shock. It WORKED?! He did NOT expect that to work! He smiled almost right away. “Now how in the world-” He grabbed Helpy, laid him down onto his inner arm like a baby and started tickling his belly. “How did Fazbear Entertainment manage this?!” He asked, referring to the programming that made him ticklish.

“Jehehemy! Tihihickles! Ihit tickles! Hehehehe!” Helpy giggled, covering his mouth with both his hands.

Jeremy took in a breath and blew a little raspberry on his belly. Helpy let out an auto tuned squeal of surprise and kicked his feetsies as he giggled a lot more higher-pitched into his hands.

“Awwww!” Jeremy teased. “You’re not a threat. You’re barely even scary! You’re just a rare gem. A tiny one at that.” Jeremy told him, poking his shirt buttons.

Helpy giggled and pushed his finger away with one of his hands while he covered his bashfulness with his other. “Jehehemy ehembarrassihihing mehehehe!” Helpy whined through his giggles.

“Oh no! What a tragedy! Is the poor Helpy gonna die from embarrassment if I forget to stop?” Jeremy asked dramatically.

Despite clearly being a robot, Helpy nodded his head. “Yeheheeees!” Helpy whined with a smile. Jeremy stopped and watched as Helpy’s giggles dropped. His happy face quickly turned pouty. “No no no!” Helpy grabbed Jeremy’s hand and pushed it up to his purple belly. “Happy embarrassed! Ihihi’m hahappy ehembarrassed!” Helpy explained.

Jeremy gasped at this and resumed tickling his belly. “Happy embarrassed? Is that a good thing?” Jeremy asked. He started poking the belly with a big smirk. “I think that’s a good thing!”

Helpy squealed and twisted himself around onto his belly to hide his blush inside Jeremy’s arm. Helpy was way too embarrassed to even look at Jeremy! And Jeremy himself found this so cute and hilarious!

“Awww! Teasy bear! Teasy Helpy the teddy!” Jeremy teased. His confidence quickly fell however, as he felt a few fingers in his armpit. Jeremy shrieked and curled in. “OOOHOHO NOHO! HEHEHELPYHYHY!” Jeremy laughed. “THAHAHAT’S CHEHEHEATIHIHING!”

Helpy smiled and quickly started digging into his armpit more. “Tickle tickle! Jemy tickly too!” Helpy teased back.

Jeremy fell down to his knees and continued leaning to the side being tickled. “YOHOHOHOU GOHOHOHOT YOHOUR AHAHATTAHACK! IHIHIT WAS MYHYHY TUHUHURN!” Jeremy protested.

“My turn! My turn!” Helpy declared proudly. “Helpy love tickly Jemy!”

Jeremy hung his head as he mentally realized that his fate was sealed. He was gonna end up with a little robot teddy bear that’s surprisingly really good at tickling. Though maybe that was a good thing. He could have a companion in this lonely small house. Maybe Helpy was the one thing that he needed!

Jeremy laid onto his back and let Helpy tickle him for a little longer. Happy to be given such a fun opportunity, Helpy pulled his hand out of Jeremy’s armpit and ran to his belly. “Buttons!” He declared and felt around for any buttons on his belly that resembled his own metal black buttons. Helpy lifted up his shirt and gasped at the circular dip on his torso. “...Button?”

Jeremy looked up. “Wha- NOHOHAHAHAHA!” He declared.

“Tickle Button!” Helpy declared as he added more pokes.

Jeremy squeaked and snorted, kicking his feet and rocking his belly left and right. “NOHOHO BEHEHELLYHYHYHYHYHYHY BUHUHUTTOHOHON! *snort* COHOHOHOME OHOHOHON!” Jeremy pleaded.

“Tickle tickle button! Tickle button, tickle button!” Helpy repeated.

Jeremy snorted again. “THIHIHIS IHIHIS CUHUHUTE, BUHUHUT SOHOHOHO TIHIHIHICKLIHIHISH!” Jeremy yelled at him.

Helpy gasped and looked up at him with big, wide, happy eyes. “Cute?” Helpy asked. He stopped tickling and crawled up to Jeremy’s shoulder. “Helpy cute?” He asked.

Jeremy looked over with a big smile on his face and petted his little bear ears. “Of course you are! You are very cute, Helpy.” Jeremy told him. Helpy covered his mouth and giggled while waving his ears up and down. It looked like Jeremy had found another tickle spot of his.

Jeremy giggled at this and started tickling his inner ear. This actually caused Helpy to break out into a toddler-like tantrum! But he was giggling and laughing with his eyes squeezed shut! His ears were waving up and down to try and get Jeremy’s fingers away, and he was rocking left and right as well, while throwing his limbs around everywhere! It was like a happy spaz attack!

Misinterpreting it from first glance, Jeremy quickly stopped and looked at him with a worried expression. “Are you okay?”

Helpy went completely limp in a star-shaped position and continued giggling in a lazy daze. Jeremy booped his snoot playfully, and bursted out laughing when the nose actually squeaked! Helpy giggled more at that. “Jemy boop!” Helpy declared. Jeremy giggled at that.

Helpy brought himself closer to Jeremy and cuddled against him. Jeremy, happy to cuddle him, wrapped his arms around him and started rubbing his belly. Helpy smiled and shoved his fuschia pink cheek into Jeremy’s shoulder.

Before they knew it, Jeremy had fallen asleep as he cuddled Helpy on the ground. He managed to sleep for a total of 2 hours before he woke up again. Jeremy smiled as he woke up from his sleepy daze and looked over to where Helpy was laying. But...Helpy wasn’t there. Huh? Where did he go? Jeremy got himself up and started looking around the house for Helpy. But he was nowhere to be found. Did he leave?

Jeremy sat down on the bed, trying to process what might’ve happened. Maybe Helpy had to leave and didn’t wanna wake him. Or maybe...he wasn’t there in the first place. Maybe Helpy was just a creature from his dreams. But it felt so real! It couldn’t have been a dream!

Could it?

Jeremy felt tears fill his eyes as he realized how much he’d lost in what felt like 5 minutes. He realized just how lonely and sad he was. Helpy filled a gaping hole he had lived with for half of his life. And now...It was empty again.

Jeremy put his hands in his pockets as he sunk down and hung his head. But his hand grazed across something. It felt like a piece of paper. It was too big and thick to be a receipt. And it felt folded in multiple spots. Jeremy pulled out the paper and read the front word that looked like it was typed out in bubble letters on a computer:

[Jemy!]

Jeremy widened his eyes. That was Helpy’s nickname for him! He WAS real! Jeremy opened the paper and read the bubble-lettered words written inside:

[Hi Jemy! Helpy had to go. I’m sorry. Mr. Emily wants me to help a work man. Helpy can come back soon! Pinky promise! Helpy loves you! ~Helpy]

Jeremy smiled through his tears. The mystery was solved. His questions were answered. Helpy is real alright, and he’ll come back for more cuddles and bonding moments when he’s done his job.

#before #fnaf pizzeria simulator #helpy fnaf #helpy the bear #helpy being cute #jeremy fitzgerald #jeremy fitzgerald being cute #ticklefic #switch!jeremy #switch!helpy #Jeremy Meets:

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aizawaskittenwhore · 3 years

Text

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

pairing: cartel!shota aizawa x fem!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, this will be a cartel!au, so mentions of c*ke and distribution...yeah lol, suggestive content towards the end of the chapter (vague description of a bj), angst, cheating, aizawa just ain’t shit in this story LMFAOOO

a/n: this is the third fucking time i’ve tried to post this so if it doesn’t work i’m gonna cry. but I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE and i can’t wait for you all to see what i’ve got planned. so uh...strap yourselves in it’s about to get crazy. sorry ms joke </3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐚’ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

The salty, warm breeze from the ocean whipped its way through Shota’s onyx locks, tossing them around with a gentle force. Miami was gorgeous from the water, skyscrapers alight with the buzzing energy of the city, streets crawling with good food and even better looking women. Gorgeous full lips wrapped around martini glasses, criminally short dresses clinging to any skin it was given. He didn’t care much for the nightlife, opting to observe the partygoers from a distance.

He wasn’t here to socialize.

He was here to work.

His wrists draped over the edge of the rail that separated him and the water, a small portion of his weight against the cool metal. When Hizashi suggested that he get a yacht he nearly spat out his whiskey, face contorted in an expression of annoyance and disdain. Shota didn’t understand why someone would need such a flashy boat, it was merely a watercraft meant for travel and or fishing. This wasn’t the 1400’s where one’s worth was tied to the size of a man’s ship. Just another glorified pissing contest for rich people with too much money, and not enough couple’s therapy in the world that could keep them home for days at a time.

It’s not as if he was in any position to judge though, his pinky coming to rest just below the silver band that rarely inhabited his ring finger these days. He doesn’t entirely know what possessed him to wear it, whether it be the ever-crushing guilt from lying to his wife, or the text he’d received from Emi this morning that read:

“Make sure to bring me back a mojito! Don’t work yourself too hard, and remember how much I love you!💕”

If only she knew that these tri-monthly “Inter-Departmental Hero Conferences” were just fronts for selling a literal boat-load of cocaine.

Turns out, yachts were really good for that.

In the span of just five years, superhuman society was nearing it’s peak. Upon the graduation of all the students in the 1-A Hero Course, and Izuku Midoriya’s induction as the new Symbol of Peace; the world began to see an astronomical shift. Crime rates were the lowest they’d ever been, with Japan and the States sitting at 2 and 4.5 percent, respectively. Newly minted Pro Heroes roamed the streets, bringing security to those who needed it and striking fear into the hearts of those who were on the wrong side of the law.

But this utopia came at a price. With the sudden influx of fresh and talented pros, crime decreased exponentially, leaving little villain-based work for Heroes to get paid for. Hostage situations and evacuation efforts took backseat to helping older women across the street and assisting young children with their schoolwork. Soon enough, peace became a burden for those whose careers surrounded chaos.

Aizawa was no exception to this dilemma. Once Midoriya and his classmates graduated and obtained their Hero Licenses, he’d ended his tenure as an instructor at UA. He felt that he’d done his civic duty as a teacher and a Pro, and produced some of the finest Heroes the world would come to see. So he began to settle down. Surprisingly, he’d begun to tolerate Joke’s incessant laughter and boisterous personality, and soon fell in love with the eccentric woman. Between patrols and giving advice to aspiring Heroes at the community center, he and Emi explored all the the world had to offer; swapping out steel-toed combat boots for soft plush flip flops against hot sand. After three years he’d proposed, much to Emi’s delight (and Ashido’s upon hearing that Mr. Aizawa could actually tolerate another human being). The ceremony was small, and intimate. Shinsou serving as the ring bearer, and Eri as the flower girl. Mic even shed a few tears during the toast, though he’ll deny it if Kayama ever brings it up.

For a while, things were good. Life was good. Emi was glowing with the energy of a new life blossoming inside her, and Shota fantasized about meeting his little girl, counting all of her dainty fingers and toes, and doting on her for all to see.

Or at least it was, before agencies began to close. Paychecks got smaller and smaller. Heroes were struggling to find work and their pockets began to struggle along with them. With Emi on maternity leave, and Hero society coming to a standstill, things were looking grim. He needed to provide for his family, his wife, his children.

He needed a plan, and fast.

Luckily, Hizashi always did have good standing with everyone’s favorite Bird Boy. So he called in a few favors.

“Just for a couple months man! We stir up a little bit of noise, make a couple ripples and bam! Crime rate’s back up, and we get back to makin’ money. It’s temporary. Nobody will ever know, I’ll make sure of it. I got you.” Hizashi pleaded, an arm slung across Aizawa’s shoulders as he pensively gazed into his glass of amber liquid. He’d done some vigilante work here and there in his twenties but this....this was outright criminal. But what choice did he have?

Just a few months, he’d said. If only it’d worked out that way.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t show, Eraser!” Zhu thundered, hands clapping joyously at the other man’s timeliness. “That’s some boat you got there, let me guess...the wife’s idea?” He queried, eyebrows waggling emphatically as Aizawa descended from the metal ladder and onto the wooden pier; eyes rolling into the back of his head at Zhu’s...excitable personality. The two had known each other for about two years or so, having gotten acquainted over the course of Shota’s many trips between Japan and the States, and sometimes South America. Zhu Kanaka was a man of the lower ranks, opting to use his easygoing disposition to negotiate deals for Takami “Lord of The Skies” Keigo, better known as Hawks. Standing at a solid 6 foot 4, with thick black locks that spiked into a point reminiscent of an onion, thick bushy brows and a set jaw, you’d think he wouldn’t hesitate to punt anyone like a football.

At least until he opened his mouth.

“As it turns out, Emi hates the damn thing. Makes her seasick. Hizashi talked me into getting the fuckin’ eyesore.” He intoned. His left hand palmed his slacks for the emergency pack of cigarettes he kept in his back pocket for when he was stressed during a deal, although he never really needed them anymore after Eri said she wanted him to quit. He still held on to them though, just in case. “The hell you waiting for? You know the deal man. Let’s see it.” He muttered, silently willing for Zhu to get on with it so he could get in a bed. Three and a half hours on a goddamned boat (that you didn’t even want to begin with) will do that to you.

“Someone looks like he needs a nap. Alright, I got ya. Count it, make sure it’s all there. I had Thing 1 and Thing 2 back there pack it, so you might wanna double check.” Zhu quipped, jerking a thumb towards the two young men currently engaged in a heated game of Rock, Paper, Scissors; the pair of them flushing upon receiving one of Aizawa’s infamous stares. Two thick black duffles were handed to his two bodyguards, the men immediately unzipping and checking the stacks, a mental tally steadily climbing higher and higher as they sifted through the cash.

“He’s good. Four hundred thousand in each bag. It’s all there, Eraser.” Sato affirmed, Toru nodding alongside the man. “Good. Go ahead and call Jamie, tell him to bring the car around. Zhu, I’ll send Sato and Toru to help your men unload our shipment. It’s a hefty one, so you’ll need the assistance.” Shota offered, shoulders visibly relaxing at the thought of getting some alone time in an empty hotel room.

“Yeah that’d be great, thanks! How long you in town for?”

“Until about 3pm tomorrow. I’ll be on my flight back to Kyushu then.” He states, right arm extending to clasp the other man’s hand in a firm grip. “You’re goin to that meeting the Big Man’s holding in a few days right?” Zhu queries. “Unfortunately, yes. Gonna miss my little girl’s first doctor’s appointment for this shit.”

“No way! She had the baby?!?!? Congratulations man! How’s it feel?” Zhu exclaims, eyes alight with joy for his friend’s new addition to the family. “Feels good. She had a smooth pregnancy, everything worked out fine. Hana’s beautiful, and healthy. I couldn’t be more proud.” Shota brags slightly, heart swelling at the thought of his little girl and how proud he was to know he’d helped in making someone so...ethereal. “Wow. Raising another kid, you flying out all the damn time, along with whatever else you got goin on?? No wonder you look like shit.”

Red eyes and floating hair caused Zhu to immediately retract his former statement.

“Aw I’m just joshin’ Eraser! But I hear ya. It’s a lotta’ sacrifices that go into this, but they’re who we do it for. All of it. Ya know?” Zhu amends, eyes shimmering with the reflection of the city lights off of the water.

Did he even know who... or what he was doing this for anymore?

Shota found himself asking that question more and more often as of late.

“...Right.”

“Anyway, you’re probably spent, so I’ll leave you to it. It was good seeing you man, send Emi my love!” Zhu shouted as he slowly walked towards the men unloading his boat. “Likewise. Tell Macie and the kids I said hello.” Aizawa responded dryly, body screaming for some kind of relief from this exhaustion.

“Will do! Oh, by the way! You might wanna bring some cooler clothes and sunscreen with your pale ass, I hear Guadalajara’s pretty sunny around this time of year! See you in a few days man!” The male laughed, throwing him a wave as he slowly disappeared into the darkness of the port. Massaging the bridge of his nose in irritation, Aizawa nodded in acknowledgement as Jamie pulled up alongside him; his hand reaching for the handle and dragging his siphoned body into the backseat.

Jamie could sense his employer’s weary expression, and didn’t make any attempts at conversation, merely opting to start making his way to the hotel while smooth jazz floated through the car. Forehead against the door of the towncar, Shota typed out a quick message to his wife:

“Alcohol is the last thing you need sweetheart, and I love you too. Got another meeting in a few days, mandatory. I’ll in be in Mexico, so I’ll miss Hana’s appointment. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to the two of you.”

Sent.

The message sat for a few seconds before Emi read and typed out a response:

“Aw, bummer! </3 Dont worry, work is much more important right now. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures!”

“You don’t have to make it up to us, you caring is enough. Get some sleep old man, me and the girls love you. xoxo, Wifey 😘 ”

He didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve any of them.

This he knew. And yet, it didn’t stop him from responding to the unknown number that texted his phone every time he happened to be in town.

“Same time and place? Desperately in the mood to play....My toys just aren’t as good as yours, Eraser. ;)”

His heart sank. A beat passes. Then two.

Calloused thumbs move fluidly across the screen. He’s done this far too many times.

“Be there in 10. You know the routine.”

And in retrospect...he would’ve been way better off just blowing off Guadalajara and going to Hana’s appointment.

Because while he wrapped her slick ponytail around his hand, as a head that wasn’t his wife’s dipped between his legs, he didn’t think this would be his last moment of peace. Shoved down the throat of a woman who’s name he had long forgotten, settling for calling her whatever pet name he felt like adorning her with, her hands clawing at the soft and sleek cotton of his trousers.

Aizawa never anticipated that this would be the last time he would be in a room without immediate reinforcements, and be content.

The last time someone he didn’t trust with his life knew his location, and he wasn’t terrified.

The last moments of peace in his world before it all went to hell.

Temecula, California;

1:36am

The office floor was barren. Dark, coffee stained carpet congealed with the bacteria of old and new; giving it a sad beige color from the creamy foam-like white it was when the building was built. Cubicles cluttered with miscellaneous paperwork from separate departments, all of it raining down from desk to desk like a fresh layer of snow on the first day of winter. Tired, weary hands typed at a computer with precision and accuracy, the warm glow from the screen illuminating the buttons on her blouse as she plowed through each document. Her body raged for a moment of rest, but she couldn’t give in. Not when so much was at stake, not when so much needed to be done in so little time.

After a few minutes, and approximately twelve sips of bittersweet lukewarm coffee, the fingers came to a halt. A sigh of relief was freed from her body as she pushed the enter button on the dusty, tan keyboard and began to pack up for the night. Since the computers were set on an activity timer, there was no need for her to physically shut it down. After 30 seconds of no visible movement, the screen flashed a message declaring that the activity would be suspended within the next 2 minutes if no motion was detected. Content with her work, she slung her work bag over her shoulder, and trudged towards the elevator, mentally clocking out for the night.

As the elevator slowly carried its passenger down, the computer continued its countdown before discontinuing its power, leaving the following words for nobody but its future recipient to read:

Drug Enforcement Agency Operative Travel Request:

Agent: L/N, F/N

Current Operation: Potential formation of a rising cartel under the leadership and or affiliation of Pro Heroes Hawks, Endeavor, and Eraserhead. Agent has been undercover for eight months and twenty-seven days.

Investigation Status: Active

Location of Travel: Guadalajara, Mexico

Reason for Request: Possible gathering of multiple Hero-Run plazas to discuss further movement. Will gather more intel and gain trust of suspects involved/acquire more resources for investigation.

Travel Request Status: Accepted.

#shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x female reader #aizawa x you #mha x reader #aizawa x reader #nyafterhours

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isshuns · 3 years

Text

the progression of things - discarded scenes

this is a dump post for scenes that were in the original draft, but never made it to final version of the fic. they bear no connection to the final version of "the progression of things”, but i liked them enough that i couldn’t bear just deleting these scenes (TPOT underwent a lot of editing and rewrites) ;_; they were part of the original premise where I wrote Miyano as ace/demisexual, but in the end it didn’t work out ;_;

click on the “read more” link if you’d like to read them, but take note, they’re were part of the rough draft, hence are extremely unpolished.

Miyano remembers being fifteen, his school bag heavy on his shoulders, but his heart heavier in his chest. Every day he looks at the mirror in his bathroom and wonders why he was cursed with such feminine features, a smaller build than the rest of the boys in his school; everything on his face seemed wrong as though nature forgot to switch its genetic code back to “MASCULINE, MALE” when constructing his face.

He couldn’t blame his parents, they never had any say in what he’d look like when he was born, and his mother would be heartbroken to hear that her son, bearing such resemblance to her looks, actually hated his own.

But as slightly estranged as he was from his middle school classmates when his looks came up as a topic of conversation, Miyano still heard Things whispered amongst his peers, seen Things even, when his classmates included him in their weekly get-together to ogle at printed materials meant for a demographic way beyond their age.

In the flush of youth, where the boys in his class pondered over their body anatomy, fascinated with nature, and looked to adult magazines (stolen from their older sibling’s stash) for enjoyment, Miyano pondered over the harsh reality of his feminine features, upset but resigned with nature, and looked to fashion magazines (taken with permission from his mother’s collection) for pointers on how Not to appear even more like a girl.

(His father’s copies of Business Weekly helped a little too, even if only to remind Miyano how top businessmen in the country dressed for a business photoshoot with the press – suit, tie and expensive watch peeking from the cuffs.)

When the passage of time came and went and Miyano entered high school, he discovered the world of Boys Love manga and dedicated his free time to understanding the intricacies of this fascinating genre. Being a minor, the type of print he could obtain were fairly sweet and innocent, nothing too explicit save for some scenes that took place on a bed, the protagonists’ modesty preserved with a flimsily drawn blanket over their nude bodies.

Occasionally, a book or two with explicit content would make their way to his collection. The internet was also a place full of wonders and possibility, and once or twice Miyano would (secretly) look up the famous series promised with rave reviews, but somehow, Porn Without Plot never really stuck to his repertoire.

Even after becoming of age, Miyano still finds himself gravitating towards the safety that comes with the PG-13 books. There is a strange sort of comfort in consuming fiction that depicts love as something simple and uncomplicated, straightforward and representation that love– intimacy did not necessarily come hand in hand with sexual acts. Intimacy could exist with or without sexual acts and vice versa, whatever floats your boat, really.

For Miyano, it was always the build up leading to that ultimate confession scene (at the rooftop, under the cherry blossom tree by the school yard, the back of the school gym, endless options) that grabbed him by the feels and punted him into the sun. That’s where the highlight is!! He once told Sasaki, unable to hold back on his excitement that twinkled in his eyes.

And identifying all the event flags leading up to that very moment of their first kiss? Unparalleled. Truly the best of all scenes there is. Peak romance. The bedroom scenes (few and rare in his possession) are really just a bonus.

So, while his peers continued to chat about going through the motions in bed, the closest miyano could ever try to relate to during those conversations was the intimacy that came along with the idea of sexual intercourse.

-------------------------------------

The moment Miyano is done with the last of his midterms and bids his notes goodbye (for now), Sasaki magically appears beside him and whisks him away to the nearby izakaya for a celebratory dinner.

“For getting through the first midterm week of your life~” His giant baby boyfriend coos, ever so sweet like the cakes he bakes.

Miyano pretends to be exasperated, shoulders dramatically slumping over the sticky izakaya table, but his heart knows better. It’s been one month since he’s started college (the one Sasaki also so happens to attend, not a coincidence at all), and the privilege of having more time to spend with one another makes Miyano giddy with happiness.

Gone are the days Miyano can only meet his favourite senpai for a handful of hours after club activities until the reality of their courseload slaps them in the face; gone are the days they have to rely on telephone calls and text messages, where the minutes and seconds flashing across the screen serve as an unforgiving reminder of the time they have left before they have to part ways.

It’s all gone now. Sasaki sits before him, in the flesh, and Miyano has always felt that seeing Sasaki’s smile in person would always be different from seeing it on screen. The grainy pixels on his phone can never do those handsome features justice, nor can it the warmth blooming behind his breastbone whenever Sasaki threads their fingers together and walks him all the way back to his dorm.

The freshmen all share a common dormitory block separate from the rest of the college students, something about building connections and getting to know each other better, so Sasaki insists on walking Miyano back to his room before he makes the trek all the way back to his own. The night is young, the dorms are peacefully quiet, and everyone is probably still out in town having a good time.

---------------------------

Loathe as he is to do so, Miyano makes the executive decision to drop by the bookstore one afternoon to try and consult a few adult BL manga. It’s the worst idea he could ever come up with, he hates comparing his own relationship to silly BL manga tropes, but nothing short of an apocalypse would push him to ask the people around him whether it’s normal to… not think about sex in a romantic relationship. While the internet is a wondrous place full of answers and possibilities, Miyano figures it probably wouldn’t hurt to take a peek at how society tackles his questions through the lens of BL manga.

Hurriedly, just before his date with Sasaki, he randomly picks up one of the highly rated R-18 series, heads over to the payment counter quickly, and bolts out of the store the moment the cashier bags his purchases. He makes sure to stuff the damned volumes deep beneath his bag, out of sight, before he heads over to the café to meet Sasaki for lunch.

And when he’s finally back in his own dorm later that night, his roommate blissfully unaware and asleep, Miyano retrieves the book from his bag, cautiously peels away the plastic wrap before he settles down for the night to take notes.

His efforts are all for naught. Halfway through the series – one Junjou Romantica –, it takes Miyano all but 3 volumes before he calls it quits and and promptly closes the book. Guess there’s no way he can redeem his money now, unless Sasaki is into dubcon…? Well, that’s a thought for future Miyano to ponder on. Current Miyano just wants to sleep and wash the images out of his mind with bleach.

-------------------------------

he has no care for sex, but nothing compares to the tender happiness that comes along with partaking in something sasaki enjoys and yearns for. sasaki’s language of love has always been touch and spending time partaking in activities of common interest.

today, sasaki has picked a soothing lo-fi playlist as their background music. they’re seated on the bed, warmly nestled against each other as they browse through their respective manga

his eyes may be on inked pages, but his heart is long gone. he discreetly observes his boyfriend, the curve of his jaw, long lashes almost curling against the high of his cheekbones as his honey-gold eyes flit across pages and pages of content.

the fingers flipping through each page is steady, long, and miyano suddenly wonders how it would feel to have them splayed across his body, touching him in places his own hands have never ventured before.

“what’s wrong, myaa-chan?” sasaki smiles at him, eyes impossibly fond and kind.

well, fuck it, there’s no going back now.

“senpai, what do you think… about… BL with explicit content?”

sasaki blinks. miyano tampers down the urge to kiss those parted lips.

“you mean books with sex scenes in them?”

“yeah.”

“oh.” sasaki turns away, the hand that’s not rested on miyano’s shoulder has found a place on top of sasaki’s mouth. he’s embarrassed, miyano realizes, and somehow that makes him feel ten times more endearing than usual.

sensing that this was a topic his boyfriend wasn’t going to let go any time soon, sasaki clears his throat and returns miyano’s gaze head on.

“i’m fine with it. why do you ask?”

“i… well.” while miyano struggles for words, sasaki hand starts moving up and down his arm, soothing him.

“are you starting to read rated manga? it’s normal, at least, ogasawara’s girlfriend says so. so there’s no need to be shy, myaa-chan! if you want to recommend any, you know I’ll read anything you lend me. no judgment here.”

it should have been reassuring, but the thought that ogasawara’s girlfriend discussed with sasaki about explicit BL manga like it’s the fucking weather has miyano choking on his spit. what the actual fuck.

do people actually talk about these things? is miyano the abnormal one instead for never entertaining the thought of doing things with his significant other?! has he been missing out on some code of relationship couples ought to follow?! the BL mangas he read never said so!

“myaa-chan? are you okay?”

“you- you talk with ogasawara senpai about these things?”

sasaki’s cheeks colour a lovely shade of red. from his looks, he’s starting to catch up with where miyano wants the conversation to go. that’s a relief, because miyano honestly doesn’t know how to tactfully broach the topic without sounding like a dumb dumb about these things.

“yeah, i do.” sasaki admits, “but only once or twice, because ogasawara needed to vent about things. sorry, does that weird you out? i can stop. i don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“no, no, it’s fine. totally fine, senpai.” it must be a common boys topic that somehow eluded miyano and friends during high school. at this point, miyano’s face must be burning with the hot flames of embarrassment and shame, he’s pretty sure sasaki’s fingers can feel the heat all the way from where they are, stroking his cheek absently.

“what brought this on, if you don’t mind me asking?” sasaki asks a moment later, when the weight of silence in the room gets a little too much to bear.

“just… some friends talking about it the other day.”

“friends.”

“yeah… fine, classmates.”

“are you… thinking about it?”

at miyano’s surprised expression, sasaki backtracks immediately.

“forget i asked.”

“to be honest, i don’t know what to feel about it.”

“it’s okay, we don’t have to do what you don’t want to do.”

it’s so painfully awkward yet endearing at the same time.

“do you think about it, senpai? about us… doing those things?”

sasaki’s lack of an answer is extremely telling. the shade of red coloring his cheeks is probably bright enough to rival miyano’s own face.

“does it matter? i am happy with doing whatever myaa-chan wants to do.” sasaki finally says, but his eyes have shied away from miyano’s gaze, and something within miyano snaps.

“of course it matters. it’s you, sasaki-senpai. i want you to be happy too. i want to do things that you want to do too.”

something akin to hope blooms across sasaki’s eyes (surprisingly moist).

“thank you, myaa-chan. that thought alone makes me happy enough. let’s leave it here for now and let things progress as they naturally would, how about that? we don’t need to rush into anything. i’m really happy with where we are now.”

he knows that sasaki has caught on to his sexual orientation, no doubt. it’s been a year since he became of age, and yet the BL manga he still buys have never ventured into the explicit genre. briefly, he wonders if sasaki actually keeps his own stash of porn somewhere below his bed, like normal boys would do.

they aren’t in high school anymore. it’s been years, and yet until this point, the thought of doing something more than kissing and cuddling has never crossed miyano’s mind. he wants to cry at how respectful his boyfriend has been all this while.

“myaa-chan? myaa-chan? oh no, yoshikazu, don’t cry. i’m sorry if i said something wrong-”

oh fuck.

miyano has always been uncomfortable with displays of affection and attention, preferring to bask in the comforting arms of his daydreams and fantasies, but his love for sasaki burns greater and he will do anything he can to ensure that sasaki receives equal, if not more, affection and care than the amount his boyfriend showers him in.

scene ends with sasaki hugging miyano tightly, reassuring him and planting a kiss at the side of miyano’s temple. but it does nothing to seep away the frustration gnawing at his bones.

END

#ssmy #my fic #the progression of things: discarded scenes

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bubblesuga · 4 years

Text

Oblivious To Adoration - Prologue

A/N: Hi all! So this is a Prologue (written after the story, oops) that can work as a standalone but I highly suggest also checking out the rest of the story as well!

W/C: 3,757

Warnings: smut, alcohol consumption, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, cum swallowing (if that should be a warning... idk lol), masturbation

Part 1

Exam season is finally over.

You throw your pencils into your bag and slip it over your shoulder. Despite having studied for ages on each test, you still couldn’t shake the fact that you may have failed. Thousands of dollars down the drain simply because you didn’t absorb the information enough. Jungkook tells you that you’re too smart to worry about things like that but it just wouldn’t leave your head.

You step out of the lecture hall and spot Jungkook leaning against the wall and talking to a girl. She seems to be flirting by the way she leaned next to him and batted her eyelashes. He seems uncomfortable, his eyes seeming to stare passed her. You roll your eyes, it’s not the first time that Jungkook had been hit on by a woman he was clearly not interested in.

The moment he sees you, his expression changes and his face is lighting up. He seemingly forgets completely about the girl and pushes himself off the wall and fights his way through the crowd.

“How did it go?” Jungkook questions, immediately leading you away.

“I’m not sure yet.” You shrug, sighing in frustration.

Jungkook gives you a look of sympathy, deciding not to press the matter while you head towards the exit of the building.

“Get outta the way bitches, (Y/N) just finished her last exam!” Jungkook yelled, his hand on the small of your back while he pushes fellow students out of your path. You roll your eyes at the attention now brought on you, attempting to hide your smile.

“Kookie you can’t call people bitches.” You groan as he pushes the door open. Jungkook abruptly slips his backpack off his shoulders and punts it down the long stairs. You gasp as it slips right in between a couple of students and Jungkook cringes in apology while he runs down the stairs to go pick it up.

You let out a laugh, skipping down the stairs yourself and returning in your place beside Jungkook. Instinctively, he wraps his arm around your shoulder while he leads you towards his car.

“Okay. Everyone has been waiting for today so we can officially celebrate the end of the year. Yoongi and Jin’s apartment at 8 tonight, alright?” Jungkook speaks as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Is Namjoon gonna be there?” You ask, picking at your finger nails. Jungkook tilts his head towards you, “Of course.”

You crinkle your nose jokingly, knowing that Jungkook didn’t like the fact that you and Namjoon teased each other quite a bit. Truthfully it made Jungkook feel jealous, as far as he was concerned you were his best friend and Namjoon had a way of sliding his comments into conversation so effortlessly that had you both laughing and hitting his shoulder.

Jungkook pulls into your apartment complex a few moments later. You lean over the center console and wrap your arms around his shoulder, “I’ll see you tonight.”

As you turn to get out, Jungkook grabs your wrist, “We’re going to get wasted tonight, by the way.”

“Mm,” you nod, humor evident on your face, “can’t wait, Kookie.”

~*~*~

You already hear music playing lightly through the door of Yoongi and Seokjin’s apartment. You don’t have the chance to knock because Hoseok swings open the door, “Get in here, girl.”

Hoseok grabs your wrist and pulls you in, your hands gripping the bottle of tequila tighter.

Suddenly you felt over dressed, spotting your group of friends gathered in the living room as Seokjin and Taehyung yell about some fighting game on the television. Hoseok takes the bottle of tequila from your hands and grabs three shot glasses.

“Jungkook! (Y/N) is here!” Hoseok calls out to the living room, causing Jungkook to whip his head around. He hops over the couch and immediately reaches for one of the shot glasses.

“Ah, to possibly making or breaking our future careers!” Jungkook doesn’t wait to tap his shot glass on yours, downing the shot in seconds and reaching to pour another.

Okay, clearly you had some catching up to do. You could smell the remnants of beers on Jungkook’s breath, and you mentally cursed yourself for running a little late. You follow his lead, pouring yourself a couple more shots and downing them while Jungkook watches you with shiny eyes.

Hoseok seems to sense your discomfort of sobriety, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a beer of your own. You silently thank him and pop it open on the edge of the counter, chugging it down.

Jungkook leads you to the living room and the two of you sit in the corner of the sectional. Already you could feel the heat of the alcohol coursing through your veins, and for once in your life you were grateful for being a lightweight.

“Ah,” Namjoon spots you, “who invited you?”

“Awh, don’t be so sad, Joonie. I know you’re secretly really happy I’m here.” You grin, seeing humor alight in Namjoon’s eyes as he turns his attention back to the screen.

Jungkook notices the exchange between you and Namjoon and can’t help but burn holes into the side of your head. Not that he could do anything about it though, it’s not like he could stop you if you and Namjoon had decided dating or something. Though he cringes at the thought.

The only thing that steadies his mind the the feeling of your head hitting his shoulder while you giggle at Jimin beating Seokjin at the game and cheering in victory.

Jungkook relaxes against you, his hand picking up a piece of hair at the back of your head and twirling it softly between his fingers. It takes every bone in his body to prevent him from leaning down and pulling you in for a kiss but he just couldn’t. Even if you wore such a short dress and pranced around in front of him more times than he’d like to admit, or when he can’t help but stare when you bend down to grab something only for Jimin nudge him out of his trance.

You didn’t like him like that, it just wouldn’t work out.

The night is going by as every night that you found yourself in one of the boys’ apartments with liquor running through your system. Jungkook and you have been fed drinks constantly and you could officially say that you were drunk, but that was the whole point of this night anyway.

Yoongi and Hoseok were in the middle of doing awful karaoke, singing some song from a movie that you had never heard of.

You were practically on top of Jungkook’s lap at this point, the two of you giggling as Hoseok’s voice cracks on a particularly high note.

“Oh come on you’re better than that Hobi!” You shout over the music and laughter, your eyes glossed over. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you close, your hand flying to his chest and your fingers dancing across his hands.

“Shut up!” Hoseok shouts back, his voice echoing from the reverb of the mic. Yoongi laughs in the middle of his verse and you realize that these guys truly made you happy, you couldn’t have asked for a better group of friends.

Especially the man beneath you, who’s strong arms made you feel safe from the beginning of your friendship onward. He always made sure to protect you, but was also well aware that you didn’t need the protection. You allowed him to protect you because you loved the way he could send a boy away from you with a simple look and his arm snaking around your waist.

You were suddenly hyper aware of how close you were to him, but you didn’t care. You like how he smells too much to stop cuddling him.

In fact, the feeling of his abs tensing beneath your body caused heat to wrack your lower half. You see him shirtless often, so you didn’t have a problem imagining what he would look like holding himself above you. You tried to push the feeling down, but the alcohol was winning this fight. You needed to have him and you needed to have him now.

“Jungkook?” You ask him quietly, turning his head towards yours.

“Yes?” He responds, his forehead shining from the heat of your body on his but he didn’t want to push you away.

“Do you want to come to another room with me?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “Uh, sure?”

You stand abruptly, but everyone else seemed too enthralled in the performance in front of them to notice. You quickly tug Jungkook with you, a giggle leaving your lips when you notice how he struggles to keep up with you.

You open the first door you see, spotting a keyboard and guitar in the corner of the room. Jungkook immediately sits on the bed, laying back and groaning. The way his shirt rode up his abdomen ever so slightly and revealed the ‘v’ dipping into his jeans caused you to swallow.

“So what’s up? Get a little overwhelmed?” Jungkook asks, rubbing his eyes then keeping his gaze trained on the ceiling.

Now that you had him in the room you were unsure of how to handle the situation. So, you decided to let your instincts guide you.

You shakily press a step forward, then another, until your knees bump against Jungkook’s. He tears his gaze away from the ceiling and eyes you curiously, causing your face to go red. He smiles comfortingly, “What’s on your mind?”

Without responding, you climb onto his lap and rest a knee on either side of his thighs. Immediately Jungkook tenses at the movement and sits up, your hands landing on his shoulders. This is different from your usual drunk touchy habits, your heat was a mere 3 layers from his, and the thought alone causes his mouth to water.

“What are you-”

Jungkook doesn’t get the chance to finish his question because you slam your lips on his.

Jungkook freezes entirely, every fiber of his being telling him to kiss you back but the shock of the situation causes him to shrivel in a puddle of confidence-lacking ooze. He had wanted to kiss you for so long - years at this point - and now that you were suddenly kissing him he had no clue what to do.

Instead of pulling away and accepting defeat, you poke your tongue between your lips and swipe it across Jungkook’s bottom lip and instantly he opens his mouth.

You smile in victory, your tongue entering his mouth and exploring. The taste of tequila and lemonade laced his tongue, and in a surprising turn of events Jungkook wraps his lips around your tongue and sucks softly.

He pulls away, meeting your eyes, “How far do you want this to go, (Y/N)?”

“Need you,” you whine, your fingers wracking over his clothed torso, “need all of you.”

“Fuck.” Jungkook groans, leading your hands beneath his shirt and allowing you to feel his hot tanned skin directly. He falls back onto the bed while you push his shirt over his head and toss it behind you, hearing the twang of a guitar string. You glance back to make sure the guitar is okay before hearing Jungkook giggle softly.

He leans his hand up, reveling in the feeling of your soft skin against his, and pushes your hair behind your ear, “You’re so pretty.”

You press your lips against his again, “Tell me I’m pretty when I’m covered in your cum.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and you can nearly see the switch in his eyes from Kookie to Jungkook. His fingers fumble with his belt and he quick to unbuckle it, tapping your hip to tell you to lift your body so he can slide his pants down.

His semi doesn’t take long to harden completely once he feels your hot breath through the thin fabric of his briefs. You bite your lip, looking up at him as you loop your fingers through the hem.

“No, baby. You’re wearing far too much clothing right now.” Jungkook says, his thumb running over his swollen lips.

You raise an eyebrow, standing up staring down at Jungkook’s mostly naked body. You smile, your cheeks flushing while you slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders. Jungkook watches your every move, his eyes following your hands while you slide the black material down your body and step out of it.

Your underwear is by no means flashy, you didn’t expect anyone to see them tonight and you’re about to apologize to Jungkook for the plain pink matching bra and panties but his eyes tell you that you do need to.

“Off.” He demands, gesturing his hand to you. He wasn’t one for strip teases but he could watch you undress every night and never get tired of it. You reach behind you, unclasping each clasp slowly until the band of your bra falls loose. You’re quick to catch the cups before the slip off, walking closer to him.

You allow the bra to fall in has lap, your nipples hard with anticipation. This was the first time that Jungkook has seen you so exposed, and he was enjoying the sight. He leans forward and clasps his teeth around one of your nipples and you let out a moan at the feeling.

You liked this side of him, dominance radiating from him and causing you to drip.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby.” He groans, and in seconds your tossed onto the bed beside him. His lips attack your neck, sucking and biting in places you didn’t know could be so pleasurable. Or maybe it was just that fact that Jungkook was the one doing it. Either way, you writhed beneath his lips as he trailed kisses down your body. Reaching your hips, he presses a kiss to each of your hip bones. Looking up at you hesitantly, you see him loop his fingers around each side of your panties.

“Well what are you waiting for?” You tease, biting your bottom lip.

Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, “Just making sure I’m not dreaming.”

With that, he drags your panties down your legs almost painfully slow. His eyes don’t leave yours, and you wonder if he’s second guessing his decision. He must have noticed the doubt in your eyes, so he presses a kiss softly just above your mound, right on your pelvic bone.

You relax instantly, his eyes large and filled with lust when he finally tears them away from yours. Jungkook holds both of your ankles in one hand as he finally slides off your panties the rest of the way. You exhale a shaky breath, Jungkook’s position just in front of the bottom of your thighs caused your mind to wander. There were so many ways you wanted him to take you, and your feet on either side of his head was the first way.

Jungkook lets go of your ankles and you keep your legs raised, slowly opening your thighs where Jungkook finally turns his gaze.

Your stomach flutters while Jungkook lays on his stomach in front of you, and swipes his ring finger up your slit. Instantly, a loud moan falls from your lips and Jungkook chuckles confidently.

“Who knew you’d be so wet for your best friend, huh?” He doesn’t allow you to respond, as his tongue darts out of his mouth and swipes a long stripe from the bottom of your heat to your clit.

You lurch forward, your hands lacing through his hair.

“Oh god, that feels so good.” You moan, arching your back as Jungkook begins to press two fingers into your cunt. He wasn’t hiding how much he was enjoying this, either, because he moans loudly against your cunt as you tug at the roots of his hair.

You watch him carefully, biting your bottom lip and your face contorted in pleasure. Jungkook’s eyes were closed, all his energy going into pleasing you.

He begins to rut his hips against the duvet, whining against you for some sort of release but he doesn’t stop until your coming undone beneath him. “Oh fuck me,” you moan, “Jungkook!”

You feel his smile against you as you ride out your high against his tongue, your hand gripping his hair harshly.

“Wow,” he pulls away, his thumb collecting the moisture of your release around his lips and then slipping it into his mouth, “you taste even better than I imagined.”

Your mouth falls agape, “You imagined what I taste like?”

“Oh baby,” Jungkook stands for a moment, slipping his boxers down his muscular thighs, “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”

Your eyes drop to the apex of his thighs, his cock springing upward and hitting his abdomen. He’s huge, you thought, he’s going to tear me in half.

And you couldn’t wait.

You gesture for him to get back on the bed, and in seconds your spreading your thighs. Jungkook strokes his cock for a moment, his eyes washing over your body and he silently pleasures himself at the sight of you. You could come just from watching him, but you were so enthralled with the way his large hands stroked himself that you forgot what you were doing in the first place. It’s not until he’s about to thrust inside of you do you snap back, “Condom?”

“Ah,” Jungkook blushes, “sorry, one second.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. The tiny silver foil was a welcoming sight, and you grin.

Jungkook spots your salacious smile and can’t help but mirror it, walking over to the side of the bed. He stands tall above you, and he hands you the foil packet.

“Put it on me.”

You don’t hesitate, your teeth tearing open the condom and placing the bubble at the top in your mouth. Jungkook hisses when your hand grips the base of his cock and strokes him a few times before you lower your mouth onto him, rolling the condom down his shaft with your tongue running underneath.

As you reach the base of his cock, you hold yourself there. Jungkook feels your throat contract around him and thrusts in softly, “If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna need to stop sucking me off.”

You fall back easily, spreading your legs once again and reaching your fingers down to rub your clit in a few circles.

Jungkook places himself between your thighs again, and presses his cock into your heat slowly.

You watch the way his thumb shakes as he falls in, his body crashing above you as he catches himself. He can’t help but capture your lips in his as he finally feels you pulse around him like he wanted you to for so fucking long.

Jungkook has never had so much trouble trying not to cum, but you just felt so good. Your warmth was enticing, and kissing you was distracting him enough not to release.

“Move, please.” You whisper against his lips, grinding your hips against his.

Jungkook pulls away until just the tip of his cock is inside, then he slams back in. Still, his lips stay steady on yours and you cry out his name while he thrusts into relentlessly.

“You take me so well, baby,” Jungkook’s voice was throaty and thick, much different than what you were used to, “squeeze around me so good.”

He doesn’t leave your lips, breathing heavily through his nose as he continues to thrust harshly. You reach up and drag his bottom lip through your teeth, trying to quiet your moans as you suddenly remember the 6 other people in the apartment.

Then again, maybe you didn’t care if they heard you. Maybe you liked the thought of the boys hearing Jungkook make you scream.

So, with Jungkook thrusting particularly harshly, you let out a scream of his name and toss your head back, electricity sparking in your tummy. He reaches deep and slows his thrusts once he feels that your close, long strokes replacing them.

The fact that Jungkook lay so close to you as he thrusts, the scent of him overwhelming in your nostrils, played a huge factor in pushing you closer and closer to the edge. As you finally feel the twist building in your stomach uncoil in flashing heat, your jaw drops open, “I’m coming!”

“That’s good,” Jungkook kisses your jaw, “you’re doing so well.”

He stops his movements and you moan,falling back and trying to catch your breath.

You open your eyes and meet Jungkook’s, grinning and reaching up to move his fringe away from his forehead, “Did you cum?”

He shakes his head, “You said you wanted to be covered in my cum, right?”

You nod hastily, and Jungkook slowly pulls out of you. You groan at the emptiness, but quickly recover when you see Jungkook slip the condom off of his member.

Again, he stands proudly above you, “What? You think I’m gonna do this myself?”

You giggle, reaching forward and beginning to stroke him. You’re much faster this time, and Jungkook is thrusting his hips in your hand. He’s gripping your wrist but following the movement of your hand with his eyes screwed shut and his head tossed back.

Then you hear him suck in an air of breath and you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue and feeling the saltiness of his release paint your tongue. He looks down quickly, as if not wanting to miss the way his cum rests on your tongue. He grips your jaw in his hand, “Swallow.”

You eye him mischievously, sliding your tongue in your mouth and swallowing, then opening again to show him.

“Good girl.” He whispers, his eyes still black with lust.

He places another kiss to your lips, and you pull him down onto the bed with you.

You both lay, catching your breath and watching each other. Jungkook’s grin is just as wide as ever, and you realize exactly what you had just done.

You just hooked up with your best friend. Your first friend on campus, the person who’s there for you whenever you’re going through anything. You may have just completely ruined your friendship with him because you let alcohol take over your thoughts.

Well, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It definitely wasn’t the fact that you had been suppressing your attraction to him for years. Nope.

Definitely wasn’t that.

#i know I said i was gonna write an epilogue #but like #ya girl gotta work and sometimes my brain doesn't like to write what i want it to write #yanno?#no? just me? fuck #anyway #hope y'all liked it #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader fluff #jungkook friends to lovers au #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios

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alce20 · 4 years

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A/N: i hope you all enjoy this!! iwa literally makes me 🥺🥺🤤😍😫🥵

pairing: Hajime Iwaizumi x f!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: cursing, insinuated sex

word Count: 655

synopsis: Iwa comes to watch you (his gorgeous s/o) dance and runs into some problems.

You looked so beautiful up on that stage dancing your heart out Iwaizumi almost wished he was the only one who could see this. You were graceful and oh so sexy, he felt like each swing of your hips went straight to his dick. It definitely was not good manners to get a hardon in a public setting but it was a little too late for that.

“Fuck me she’s so hot” a voice broke him out of his trance and he tuned in on the conversation taking place next to him. “Bruh, I know. And if she fucks anything like she dances then...” the man’s voice trailed off and he and his friend snickered. Iwa’s fists clenched and he ground his teeth together, he wanted to punch them or to break their kneecaps or something. Anything to make them think twice about speaking about a woman like that, speaking about you like that. He was just turning his body to make a scene and fuck shit up when he remembered how much this performance meant to you.

He reminded himself of when you had told him that you were dancing in the fundraising event for children with cancer your eyes had lit up in a way that he never wanted anyone to dim. You were so passionate about everything you did, especially dance, and you were studying to be a pediatric nurse. He couldn’t ruin his girl’s special moment, what kind of man would he be if he did?

Taking some deep breaths he leaned over to the two men next to him. “She’s sexy, right.” the two guys next to him blanched, they hadn’t expected anyone to overhear. “Yeah man. Do you know her? Cause I’d really like to know her.”the one who had made the insinuation about your fucking and dancing spoke hesitantly and his friend nodded. Iwaizumi almost growled, he wanted nothing more than to beat their asses and be done with it but he would never do that to you. “Her name is Y/N, Y/N L/N.” he said and just as both men started to thank him, he cut them off. “And you’ll never know her. You’ll never speak to her and you’ll never know if she fucks like she dances because she’s mine. Her moans are like music and her body is perfect even on the days she hates herself. But what’s even better is her mind and how she throws herself into everything she does. She’s going to be my wife one day. You’re lucky that you even get to know her name, or to see her dance. since y’all don’t know how to fucking act I recommend you leave because the second my baby is off that stage I’ll fucking punt you across this room.” Iwaizumi really hoped they wouldn’t leave because he needed to hit something so bad, he wished Shittykawa hadn’t been busy today. Clearly fearing for their safety the two guys got up and muttered a short “Bruh chill.” Before quietly making their way out of the auditorium.

Angry, but satisfied they were gone, Iwa turned his attention to the rest of your performance. when you finished you received a standing ovation, he made sure to shout the loudest and smiled when your eyes found his and you made your way from the stage toward him. “Great job pretty girl.” He wrapped you in a tight bear hug, wishing he never had to let go. “Babe, let me go, I'm hungry” you whined and Iwa held you tighter “Just a little bit longer then we can get (insert favorite food here).” He felt you soften against him at the promise of your favorite food and had to admit: this was better than punching those douchebags. He’d trade everything in the world just to watch you dance, just to see you smile. It was then that Iwaizumi realized he loved you.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #aoba josai x reader #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi imagine #i wrote this instead of sleeping

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supernovadragoncat · 4 years

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Thunderstruck Outtake: Sally Cancels the THOT in Sandor’s Dressing Room (What happened after Chapter 14)

Dedicated to @jennusdemenus who asked for a glimpse into what happened directly after Chapter 14 (aka what happened to that THOT in Sandor’s dressing room, you know the one!)

Read on below the cut to find out!

You can catch Thunderstruck here on AO3 and here on FF.net! Only two chapters left!

Back to the door, Sally watched the venue thin out. This bit was always the same. The city or the venue didn’t matter. Groupies and drunks, they were always the last to go. The drunks would plant themselves in an empty floor and wail for another encore well after the band left the stage and the crew started clearing off the gear. The groupies would flock to the door Sally had planted himself in front of and wield their feminine wiles in hopes of sneaking past.

As it stood, neither the groupies nor the drunks got too far, and Sally occupied himself with self-indulgent daydreams. He was usually hungry right about now. Having scrambled for scraps earlier, tonight was no exception. While Cannibal Star was likely on the prowl for booze and women, Sally had one thing on his mind.

Soft and sweet. Heaven on his lips. He’d savor every moment.

I shouldn’t.

He’d already had two cupcakes, but then also that beer and he wasn’t a twenty-something anymore, metabolism burning through every bit of bullshit he put in his body. His gut could prove it; the wobbly bits that hadn’t been there two years ago and showed no signs of slowing down now.

What’s a third cupcake when you’ve already had two? Sally reasoned with himself.

Catering got the kind he liked; the icing wasn’t too sweet and melted like butter on a hot July day in his mouth. Not that he ever let it be known. This shit wasn’t about him and he was just grateful no one had told him to pound sand yet. If anything, Cannibal Star had become some of his closest friends, the crew like family. They took care of their own and catering got the cupcakes he liked. That must count for something.

A flurry of activity snapped Sally out of his daydream. The crew all appeared absolutely addled as a roadie hurried across the stage, hollering about something or another that beckoned the others to gape in saucer-eyed wonder. The roadie jumped down to the floor and rushed to Sally.

“Shit’s going down. Sandor and his girl,” the kid panted and nudged his way past Sally and through the door that led to the hall.

“Oh my God!” Sally damn near punted the roadie out of his way and bolted down the corridor. He caught of glimpse of fiery red hair blazing towards the back door and Sandor looking like the world was crumbling around him.

Sandor turned to Sally, at a loss and out of words, any stray bits of explanation he could manage. That all fled the man now and he tore into his dressing room like a tornado, fury quick on the heels of emotional ruin and it was a wonder the flimsy door wasn’t ripped off the hinges.

“Trouble with the little lady?”

Sally hovered outside the dressing room and recognized the voice emanating from the other side. Mona the Monster’s ludicrous attempt at sultry banter was embarrassing even in the best of times and now solidified her place squarely on the blacklist of shame.

The men of Cannibal Star didn’t spook easy and certainly put up with their fair share of crazy if it meant getting laid at the end of it. It took a lot to get added to the blacklist.

“Get the fuck out!” Sandor’s shouts exploded into the hall and he bounded towards the doorway, wrangling Mona by her upper arm as he went.

“If you think I’ll tell you twice, you’re stupider than I’ve always known you to be.”

The woman’s feet barely had the opportunity to the meet the floor before her mostly naked ass was being tossed into the hall for Cannibal Star, the crew, and all of God’s green creation to see.

Ankles buckling, she stumbled and barely caught herself when her arms shot to the cinderblock wall.

“I’m actually very intelligent—” she fired back, equal parts furious and haughty even now, mostly naked and looking haggard in the harsh fluorescent lights beaming up above.

Anger like Sally had never seen consumed Sandor. Wide-eyed fury, fists curled, chest heaving, and face burning red—if Sally didn’t know any better, Sandor was teetering on the precipice of quite literally exploding.

“You’re trash! That’s all you’ve ever been,” he seethed in a commendable show of restraint, so much so the man was shaking. He pointed a trembling finger at Mona the Monster.

A crowd had gathered in the corridor, the message having spread like wildfire. By Sally’s estimate, the entire production now lined the hall to watch this holy terror finally get taken to task. Mona the Monster had a reputation all her own—an ungodly abomination of self-righteous entitlement and paper-thin self-esteem.

Sandor shifted towards her in a quiet step and a faint smirk Sally knew to be the calm in the storm. The fury roiled beneath the surface but next came the exacting cruelty that Sandor wielded better than anyone Sally knew.

Mona seemed to know what was coming too. Her eyes scanned the hall of faces all watching in twisted delight at her impending downfall. Her arms crossed over her chest in a laughable attempt at modesty.

“In all these years you’ve been around, spreading your legs for anything with a guitar and a pulse, I’ve never gone for you,” Sandor began, voice a deep rumble, but his eyes still flashed with rage. “I haven’t even looked at you twice. I find a girl who’s leaps and bounds better than you in every conceivable way, the first girl I’ve ever loved, and that’s when you think I’m going to hit it? Tell me again how intelligent you are. You’re nothing. You’re old, your tits are saggy, you reek of cigarettes and booze. Even at your youngest, all you could ever offer anyone was a lousy lay and now you’ve defined new levels of disgusting and that’s the only distinction you’re worthy of.”

Snickering and quiet encouragement rolled over the crowd. Mona’s eyes darted up and down the hall, desperate to find a sympathetic gaze to latch onto. For some absurd reason, her eyes landed on Sally.

“Don’t look at me!” Sally barked. “You’ve done it now, you nasty bitch.”

“Like you’ve ever amounted to anything,” Mona snapped. “You’re a nobody!”

All at once, the members of Cannibal Star hurled themselves from their perches throughout the hall, peeling away with congruent fervor to be done with Mona the Monster.

“Done! You’re done!” Sandor bellowed and lurched towards her, settling in next to Sally’s side. “If I ever see you at one of our shows or practices, you even breathe the name ‘Cannibal Star’ in this city, you’re getting a Stratocaster shoved so far up your ass, you’ll be choking on the strings for the rest of your shit-filled life.” Sandor leveled irate eyes at Sally. “Take out the trash.”

Sandor turned on his heel without another glance and disappeared in his dressing room. Silence blanketed the hall.

After all these years, the shame finally caught up to Mona and, when it came, it came like an avalanche. For the rest of them, justice came just as mighty and sugary sweet. Tears rolled down Mona’s cheeks in a river of jet-black mascara. In one last ditch effort, she reached for Thoros, tits now exposed for all to see.

“A bridge too far. Get the fuck out,” he grumbled and eyed her in a way no groupie ever wanted to be regarded. Sandor had the right of it—disgust. This woman was worthy of nothing more than that.

Mona stumbled towards Harwin, probably seeking out the softest of the bunch, the one most likely to toss her stray bits of sympathy. Sally held his breath and said a little prayer that the kid would keep his wits about him.

“You heard the man,” Harwin sniped with usual iciness. “You’re done. Get out.”

In a few more faltering steps and gasping cries, Mona eased down the hall towards Bronn. Sally fell in after her, blocking her path should she try to flee the other way. Mona blubbered a plea and Bronn crossed his arms tight over his chest.

“This was a long time coming, sweetheart. We all stand behind his decision. Get gone.” Bronn motioned to the door at the end of the hall leading to the parking lot.

Sally remembered now that’s where that sweet little Sansa had disappeared, and he hoped like hell that girl still wasn’t out there. Or maybe it was better if she was—she could witness Mona’s fall from grace, though she probably wouldn’t enjoy it as much as the crew was now.

A wave of applause rolled down the hall, growing louder as Mona continued towards the doors with Sally close behind. At the end of the line, no rope left to cling to, Mona turned to Sally.

“Can I at least get my clothes?” she pleaded on a quivering breath.

In only heels and a thong, Mona tried in earnest to cover herself. Sally reached around her and pushed open the door. A blast of chilly air swept through.

“No, should’ve thought about that when you took them off in his dressing room.” Sally shoved Mona through to the other side and followed after. She shivered against the night air. “I mean, he came here with her. How fucking stupid are you? What exactly did you expect?”

Mona lifted her eyes from the ground and glared at Sally but must’ve thought the better of mouthing off. As it stood, she was the one humiliated for all to see and standing outside naked. Sally scanned the parking lot for Sansa and thanked the man upstairs that she wasn’t here. Hopefully, she was safe and okay.

Sally spotted a flattened cardboard box perched against the fence on the other side of the lot. He motioned his head towards it. “You can cover yourself with that.”

She had the audacity to scoff. The offended breath escaped her thin, ugly lips that snarled at him. Sally prodded her shoulder with his finger and stepped to her, forcing Mona to shuffle backwards.

“Now you listen here, and you listen well, you tramp—Sansa is beautiful, and kind and she loves him. You’re not even in the same Universe as her. You have nothing to offer him. And if you think she’s some lovesick hanger-on, I’ve known that man far longer than you have, and I’ve never seen him like this. He loves her too.

“Nothing’s coming between them. Not a tour, not distance, not time. Nothing. Mark my words, they’re it for each other and they’ll figure this out. And you’ll still be a dried-up, bitter hag.

“Like he said. You’re done. I’m putting the crew on notice. If anyone catches a whiff of your skanky ass, you’ll leave here missing more than just your clothes next time.”

“Bye now!” he taunted with a wave before pulling the door shut.

On the other side, the hall had cleared out, both shows of the night now over. Sally retreated to the catering room and poked his head inside. The stars aligned in a rare formation and by some celestial miracle one lone cupcake sat pristine and unaccounted for on the table. Sally plucked it from the spot on the plate and admired the swirl of white icing on the top.

Back down the hall, he cradled the cupcake in his hands but the little flush of joy he felt was short lived as he passed Sandor’s dressing room door, wide open now. Inside, Sandor dwarfed the chair he sat in, elbows to knees and his forehead cradled in the palm of his hand.

Sally hovered beneath the doorframe, almost certain Sandor was aware that a presence had joined him. His shoulders tensed and his breathing shallowed, but the man remained resolute in his abject misery that kept him rooted where he was.

“Anything I can do?” Sally ventured.

Face still obscured, Sandor didn’t move other than the faint shake of his head. It was a wasted courtesy anyhow. What exactly could he do? Anything he could think to offer would be like tossing fistfuls of dirt into a gaping chasm that’d been created in Sandor’s life. The futility was absurd, and the man was so clearly already suffering the loss.

Sally’s gaze drifted to the cupcake in his hand—the last one, but he’d already had two, so the right choice was glaringly obvious. He paced into the room in shuffled steps and stopped in front of Sandor.

“Here. Take this.” He held out the cupcake and Sandor finally lifted his head from his hand. Sally saw clear enough what he’d been trying to hide. Sandor’s eyes glistened with tears.

“Those are your favorite.” Sandor shook his head and settled back in the seat. “Why do you think we tell catering to get them?”

“Always assumed it was a coincidence,” Sally shrugged. “Then it sounds like there will be plenty of cupcakes in my future. Take it.”

He jabbed the cupcake towards Sandor who took it from Sally and set it on the table next to him.

“Thank you,” Sandor murmured on a voice almost as deflated as he looked.

A cumbersome silence fell between them and Sally took it as his cue to leave. He retreated to the door but stopped beneath the frame.

“If you’re curious, after handing her ass to her, I told her touring, distance, time, a tramp in your dressing room—I don’t honestly believe any of that is going to come between you and Sansa.”

“How do you know that?” Sandor countered and a deep crease of contemplation settled between his brows.

Sally could’ve laughed. It was obvious. Everyone that met Sansa tonight commented on it in one way or another and it all distilled down to the same damn thing—something shifted in Sandor with her around. She quieted him in a way, the stillness of peace for a man so accustomed to a life uprooted and unsettled; one who prided himself on being grounded and Sansa rooted him in a different reality—one where he was worthy of love and she was more than willing to give it.

Sandor had no family, nothing much to call his own, except now her and it scared the poor bastard in a way that meant he understood the gravity of what he’d been given. In some ways, Sally couldn’t blame him; the guy had been given the keys to the kingdom and bore the responsibility of not fucking it up.

“Just a feeling,” Sally said because how the fuck was he supposed to explain all this? The man would figure it out one way or another. “When you know, you know. You know?”

Sandor expelled a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I do know,” he said, shouldering the tremendous weight of regret. Sally had been there. The lessons of age came with more than just a few extra pounds and some things were heavier and harder to carry.

“Was she out there?” he asked and, when his eyes drifted from the floor to Sally, Sandor looked caught in a tangle between devastating sadness and foolhardy hopefulness.

“No, man. She’s left.”

Once more, Sally glimpsed the way Sandor’s eyes glistened when his gaze returned to the floor. Sandor bit his bottom lip hard and nodded.

Sally offered what paltry advice he could, and it wasn’t about placating the man. He and Sandor had an honest understanding, one that meant they could speak freely with one another and Sally took that liberty where he could and right now Sandor needed it.

“She may have left, but that doesn’t mean she’s gone,” Sally offered. “And you may not be able to get her back tonight but, one of these nights, you will. You just wait and see.”

It was a call to faith and Sally didn’t know much about what Sandor believed in and in some ways it didn’t matter. Certain things superseded the superficial constructs of belief and love was one of them. And if there were ever two people desperately, stupidly in love with one another, it was Sansa and Sandor and sooner or later they’d figure it out.

#Thunderstruck #Sansan #Sansa Stark #Sandor Clegane #An Outtake #Sally ships SanSan #and he means business!

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 4 years

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Having Kittens Fanfic

Title: Having Kittens

Summary: Apathy really should be worried about the kitten that spontaneously appeared in his bedroom. But then again, Apathy doesn’t worry. It’s not really his thing. If he does nothing surely the kitten will go away on its own, right?

Word-Count: 2058

Warnings: Food Mention, feeding animals junk food (psa dont be like apathy), Slight body horror (by that I mean the kitten is basically a Flerken), remus & deceit mention, please lmk if there’s anything else!

This is for @fanartfunart! Apathy is their Sander Sides OC that I love very much and you should too! Find out more about him here :)

For some inexplicable reason, there was a kitten in Apathy’s room. A round, chubby thing. Its fur all bright red with green tabby stripes. If Apathy cared enough, he might’ve found that disconcerting. Cats weren’t supposed to be that color, were they? But then again, he didn’t care that the kitten was in the room in the first place.

Apathy didn’t care about a lot of things. Caring took time and energy--things Apathy lacked in large quantities. He had to ration them out, investing care in very little things. For example, he cared deeply about sleep. He found it’s siren call alluring. Sleep was always better than being awake. Nothing mattered when you were asleep.

Case in point, the kitten. It’d been on top of his dresser when he first awoke. Now somehow it teleported halfway across the room. It clawed at his pants leg, squeaking.

A tiny “Why?” almost escaped his lips, but he shut his mouth. Words were also a scarcity to Apathy. He couldn’t waste them needlessly. Especially to a non-sentient creature. Instead he let out an inaudible sigh and turned his back to the kitten.

A small thing like that wasn’t a threat to him. Therefore, it was needless to do anything about it. So he ignored it. Taking the path of least resistance was Apathy’s middle name.

The kitten, unfortunately, didn’t ignore him. Apparently, it decided Apathy made for a great jungle gym. It’s little paws scampered across his back, tiny claws clinching the fabric of his shirt. It tumbled off of him as it reached the other side of him. Still Apathy did not move. He actually took the effort to lay in his bed today. Getting rid of the kitten involved at least sitting up and he did not have the energy for that.

He opened his eyes just barely to see the kitten approaching his face. Still squeaking, like a rusty shopping cart. The kitten pressed up against his face, its whiskers tickling Apathy. He closed his eyes, resigned to his fate.

The kitten didn’t attack him. Its claws didn’t leave a crescent scar on his cheek. Instead the kitten made a new noise. It reminded Apathy of the storm noisemaker Patton got him for his birthday. A soft, low grumble. It curled up in the crook of his head and shoulder. Apathy laid still, body tense. He did not move, not even to breathe.

That was normal. Apathy often didn’t bother moving, let alone breathing. Too much work for a personified jumbled set of emotions and thoughts. It had nothing to do with not wanting to scare the poor kitten away.

Hours went by. How many, Apathy wasn’t sure. He wasn’t fond of keeping track of time. It was utterly meaningless to him, like everything else. He blinked, and a few scathingly short seconds went by. He blinked again and a whole week passed without his knowing.

The others constantly worried about time. They squabbled about it, arguing for what they thought was Thomas’ best usage of it. Apathy sat on the sidelines baffled by it. Couldn’t they see that the best option was to not care about anything? To just lay in bed and pretend to be a mummy like Thomas did as a kid?

Regardless, Apathy did not comprehend time well. But he did have enough awareness to know that time had passed. A significant amount. For the sky outside had darkened signaling nighttime in the mindscape. The sides typically did not think very hard on their existence. Apathy couldn’t stop ever thinking about it.

It was on his mind constantly, the same way it was for Remus and intrusive thoughts. It drove the very core of himself; Apathy. The sides were imaginary, and it could be argued that perhaps so was Thomas. If that was true then nothing mattered. Good or bad, it just didn’t matter in the end. Which was why Apathy woke up on his bedroom floor, and not his bed.

He vaguely remembered tumbling off at some point in his slumber. He thought about getting up. As even he couldn’t deny how soft and nice it was compared to the floor. Yet the floor was where he fell back asleep like he’d done many times past. It wasn’t unusual to be woken up from one of the others tripping on him. A mere annoyance in Apathy’s book, a scuffed up floor-burn in their account. Yet he hadn’t been woken up by a curse from one of the others.

Rather, a high-pitched wail. A noise not even Apathy could ignore in preference of sleep.

“Shuuut.” Apathy mumbled, pressing his face further into the floor.

Apathy laid there, hoping whatever it was would stop on its own accord. Yet the wailing continued. Apathy almost felt indignant by that. Something small squirmed, tugging at his (inside out and backwards as always) shirt. It took Apathy’s foggy, hazy mind longer than most to realize it was the kitten.

Apathy groaned, propping up his face just enough to stare at the kitten. It stared back, big mismatched green-and-red eyes.

“What?” He asked, not caring that the kitten couldn’t comprehend him. Apathy pitched a fit at whoever dared interrupt his sleep, kitten or not. Of course, Apathy didn’t exactly get angry. He just grew more stubborn and obstinate if anything.

The kitten wailed again, little claws tugging at his shirt sleeve once more. Apathy winced, drawing back a little. This distressed the kitten more, as it tried clamping its mouth against the t-shirt fabric. It quickly spat it out, coughing a bit.

“Oh.” Apathy breathed out, “You hungry?”

A wail rose up in response.

He didn’t have to be Logic to take that as a yes. He sat up, eyebrows furrowing a bit. Apathy wanted to sleep. He couldn’t sleep until the kitten stopped crying. It wouldn’t stop crying unless it was fed. He could feed it. Or he could punt the thing out of his room, leaving it to fend for itself. He was Apathy after all. Who was he to worry about a dumb little imaginary kitten?

The second option sounded nicer. It was the easiest option. Feeding the kitten meant stumbling downwards, kitten-in-hand and scouring the pantry until he found something. Then he’d have to go all the way back upstairs and to his room. Whereas punting the kitten involved picking it up, opening his door and throwing it outside. Simple.

Or so he thought. Because as he picked up the kitten, he pictured Patton’s face. Namely, a sad, pouty Patton face. Patton loved cats. Patton would be devastated if Apathy abandoned the kitten. Not that Apathy cared. He didn’t care about Patton’s feelings.

That was the whole point of his existence. Apathy: the absence of feeling, interest or concern. It was his job to make Thomas didn’t care. Because it was safer to not care than to care and get hurt.

He stared a long time at the wiggling kitten in his grasp, contemplating. He almost forgot why until his own stomach growled. Great, he was also hungry. He’d been out of his snack stash for almost a week now. Not that it mattered. Apathy was good at forgetting things like not eating in his conquest to not do anything ever. He’d forget again within a few minutes.

The kitten squeaked again, as if determined not to be forgotten about. Its’ little teeth hooked onto his finger, biting down on it. Apathy didn’t react to the small yet sharp tendrils of pain. The kitten spat it out moments later, crying out louder.

“Okay, okay.” Apathy grumbled, rising to his feet at last. Little black spots scattered across his vision but he ignored them for the sake of stepping forward. He cradled the kitten close to his chest with one arm as he opened the door.

This was it. Here was his chance to get rid of the pest that somehow infiltrated his bedroom. Except he didn’t. He held onto the kitten as he trudged all the way downstairs. It had nothing to do with upsetting Patton or his own remorse. He didn’t care about those things. He cared about three things: sleep, hunger and doing absolutely nothing. His hunger was the only thing driving him downstairs.

As he reached the kitchen, he placed the kitten onto the countertops. The kitten set off to exploring at last, mewling all the way. Apathy ignored it, opening the fridge door to stare into its contents. Staring into the bright, white interior of the fridge was one of his favorite pastimes. He often managed to encourage Thomas into doing it, even when he wasn’t hungry.

There wasn’t any lunchables or microwavable meals there today so he shut it. He threw open the cupboards and pulled out a popcorn bag. He was almost tempted to eat it, bag and all, right there. Apathy had little patience when it came to meal prep. But he held back, remembering how disgusting it tasted. He threw it into the microwave and waited.

The kitten crawled towards him, its eyes glowing in the dim light. It didn’t seem able to find food on its own. Which, great, more work for him. He didn’t even know what cats ate. Eh, Popcorn had to be fine, right? Food was food.

The microwave beeped as the last few kernels popped, like the dying refrains of a fierce battle. He took the popcorn bag and opened it. The sweet buttery smell wafted in the midnight air. He then offered it towards the kitten.

“Here.”

The kitten squeaked, tail flicking in interest. It took one sniff and then green-and-red tentacles burst forth from its mouth. It snatched the bag out of Apathy’s hands and swallowed it whole. Something that should’ve been unrealistically possible given its’ size. Then as quickly as it happened, the tentacles were gone. The kitten sat there, rumbling, as if that nothing abnormal took place.

Most people would probably shriek in terror or grab a kitchen knife in reaction. Not Apathy. He just sighed, rubbing at his eyes with both hands.

“Seriously?” He mumbled, glaring at the kitten, “Not cool.”

Not cool in that now he had to make another bag for himself. The kitten just licked its paw, unbothered. As if it didn’t care about the inconvenience it caused. A small huff escaped Apathy. He could respect that.

Apathy grabbed another popcorn bag and placed it into the microwave. When it finished, he kept a careful eye on the kitten.

“Not yours.” He said, as the kitten mewled petulantly. He opened the bag and shoved a handful into his mouth. The kitten’s big eyes mournfully watched him. Apathy paid no attention as he tore through the popcorn bag. He never really understood the point of savoring a meal. He ate food as fast as possible.

The kitten still sat there, waiting. It already ate a whole bag, the greedy little thing. Apathy rolled his eyes, holding a handful of popcorn to the kitten.

“Glutton.” Apathy said as the kitten engulfed the popcorn kernels with its’ tentacles. He scowled as he wiped his now-slimy hand against his shirt. Gross.

Apathy finished off the rest of the bag. He didn’t even bother to throw it away, instead letting it drop to the floor. With his stomach full, exhaustion hit him full force. He stumbled his way towards the stairway, vision blurry. He made it about halfway before collapsing onto the living room couch. It was just for a moment before continuing his trek upstairs. It was a lie that Deceit could smell from miles away. Even Apathy knew it was one.

He heard a high-pitched noise, looking to see the kitten had followed him. It tried jumping onto the couch but it was too high. It’s claws snagged on the edge as it slowly started falling backwards. Ears flattened, it squeaked loudly in alarm. Apathy sighed before saving it from it’s descent. The kitten made a tiny thunderous noise before lying beside him. It’s soft fur tickled his face once more. Then it fell asleep, faster than even Apathy.

This didn’t perturb him. Instead he closed his eyes, body relaxed. His lips twitched upwards. Apathy didn’t care about a lot of things, cats normally included. But this kitten? Deep down inside, he might actually care a lot.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #apathy OC sanders #kat writes

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chrysalispen · 4 years

Text

xxvi. like a friend, with whom their love is done;

AO3 link is HERE

fic under the cut

== The return to the village was a quiet one, Hugh sulking as he was all but dragged along with Aurelia’s hand braced against his shoulder in such a way that he knew escape was impossible. To be a twelve-year-old again, she thought distantly, with naught to bring care for summer days except whether or not one was allowed in a swimming-hole.

The Millers’ small home was just as she’d left it not two bells past, now with a small army of chickens clucking and milling about the pathway to the front porch. They squawked and flapped as she and Keveh’to shooed them away, and swarmed the small yard for more feed as Hugh opened the door to let the three of them inside.

“Mum!” he called. “I’ve brought Miss Aurelia and the Sergeant!”

“Come in, everyone,” Frieda called cheerfully, and Aurelia let out an internal sigh; she was sure her orders had been quite disregarded the moment Vahne arrived on the woman’s doorstep. “Our new little friend is in here with me. Come have tea with us.”

Sure enough, when they entered the big room of the house, Aurelia saw Vahne sitting in a small chair with her hands clasped anxiously in her lap, looking visibly pale and distraught. Her oak-brown tail slapped the leg of the low table, skinny body tense, and her large ears flickering wildly at every stray sound. The lady of the house was not only not in her bed, she was waddling her way over to the fireplace to retrieve a tea kettle filled with boiling water.

Aurelia scowled at her. “For heaven's sake, Frieda! We just talked about this-”

“Oh, enough of your clucking, you great mother hen! I’ll not have a child sitting in here unattended while I lay about doing nothing. A spare few minutes to make some tea won’t harm me nor the babe.”

The Garlean’s eyes narrowed.

“You do not get to be on your feet unless it’s an emergency, and tea does not constitute an emergency,” she said. “Hugh is well old enough to pour some tea without your assistance.”

“Aurelia-”

“It isn’t a request. Hugh, pray take the pot from your mother so she can rest.”

With a great and melodramatic sigh, the ginger-haired Midlander all but threw herself onto the couch next to her two youngest sons, Bran and Geoffrey. The two boys, six and four summers respectively, took almost no notice of their mother’s foul mood. They were wholly preoccupied with their strange visitor, and in watching every movement she made with open and wide-eyed curiosity- that in itself was hardly a surprise, Aurelia thought, as Miqo’te were few and far between outside the city. Meeting children close to their own ages was likely something of a novelty.

Their gaping had been soundly rebuffed, however. Vahne was either making a valiant attempt to ignore them or - like a cat - simply had not deigned to notice their interest.

“Mama,” Bran piped up hopefully, not taking his eyes off her, “since there’s a guest, might we have biscuits?”

“This isn’t afternoon tea, Bran,” Hugh began, but Frieda only smiled at the boy.

“Of course, love. There’s still that jar of gingersnaps in the cabinet. Why don’t you go help your brother find them? I’ll stay here while Mistress Laskaris and Sergeant Epocan have a chat with our friend.”

“No,” Vahne said hoarsely. “No, I-I only want to speak to Miss Aurelia.”

“Sweetling, there’s no need to worry. You’re as safe as can be here.”

“By myself, ma’am.” Her hands shook where her fingers lay knotted at her waist; it was obvious she was terrified and only barely hanging onto the merest threads of her composure. “I have to speak with her alone. It’s important.”

“Surely a bit of tea-”

Firmly, she shook her head. “Thank you, ma’am, but I’m not hungry.”

“Biscuits can come later.” Aurelia took the Miqo’te girl by the elbow and gently urged her to stand. “Let’s talk outside first, shall we? By the chicken coop around the corner.”

Her concern for the girl was enough that she barely took note of the stifling afternoon heat when the pair set foot back outside. She nudged aside Frieda’s hens with one foot and guided Vahne around the corner to find a patch of shade beneath the overhanging eaves of the coop before turning to her and offering a small smile.

“Goody Miller’s a very sweet lady and her offer was genuine, just so you know. But we’re alone now,” she said, keeping her words as quiet and gentle as she could manage. “What’s happened to bring you back so soon? Have you been hurt?”

Sniffling piteously, Vahne scrubbed at her eyes with her bared forearm and shook her head. The childish bravado of yesterday was quite gone; now she looked small and forlorn and frightened, and every ilm the Miqitten she was in truth. Not knowing what else to do for the moment, Aurelia opened her arms in the way L’haiya used to do when she was distressed. She was quite uncertain that the gesture would be accepted, and was more than a little surprised when a pair of wiry arms wound themselves around her waist and squeezed tight.

The girl stammered, “I-I-I’m not here for me. I-”

“It’s all right,” Aurelia carefully smoothed her fluffy curls away from her wet eyes, “you can talk to me. Tell me what’s happened.”

“...She doesn’t know I’m here!” Vahne cried. “I’m- she’s going to be so angry, I broke all of the rules and she’s going to- I’m so scared! But I-I couldn’t- he needs help, I couldn’t just let him-”

“Deep breaths,” she said. “Count to ten.”

“I-”

“I’ll count with you if you like.”

“N-no, I’m-” The small body pressed against hers trembled from head to toe for long minutes before the arms around her waist relaxed, and Aurelia let her go. Vahne took a slow, deep breath, then stared down at her feet. “I’m not supposed to be here. There’ll be the seven hells to pay once she finds out I’ve come to fetch you. But… there’s-”

At her hesitation, Aurelia said, “There’s been an emergency?”

“I’m…. I’m not supposed to tell anyone. Not even our friends know. But-”

“But?”

“I had to go find help. He’s like to die,” Vahne burst out. “I can’t talk about it here, but- he’s so ill and nothing she’s done is working! Not the potions or the conjury, none of it!”

“Vahne-”

“Please, I need you to come with me, you have to come back and help him if he doesn’t have help he’ll die- ”

“Vahne, love. Take a breath.” She braced her hands upon those thin shoulders. “You don’t need to explain any further. I’ll go.”

“Oh thank you, thank-”

“First things first.” Her hands squeezed those thin shoulders. “There are some things I need to get from my house, and I need to let my partner - the Keeper man you met - know about this.”

Those eyes went huge with alarm. “You can’t tell him about us! People aren’t supposed to-”

“He won’t give away your secret. I promise. But he needs to know where I’m going so that the other healers don’t worry. Even if he just tells them I’m helping someone who’s sick outside the village.”

“B-but-”

“I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

“I…. I can try.”

“I want you to stay here with the little ones for a bit while I talk with my partner. I’ll need to fetch my medicine bag from my house, and once that’s done you and I can go together. All right?”

Vahne’s expression was still skeptical, but after a moment she nodded.

“Good. Let’s get out of this awful heat. I’m sure Goody Miller will be happy to let you wash up.”

Frieda, predictably, was more than grateful for the distraction (and at least as curious as her youngest sons), and while Vahne took her seat once more Aurelia went into the parlor where Keveh’to was helping the boys retrieve the jar of gingersnaps on the high shelf of their mother’s cupboard.

“Sergeant,” she said. “We need to talk.”

He didn’t bat an eye. “Take those to your mum,” he directed Bran, passing the opened earthenware to the boy. “Be careful not to drop it.”

“Are you and Miss Aurelia coming?”

“In a moment.”

Once he had judged the children to be out of earshot, he turned to her with a frown, his voice dropping near to a whisper.

“So. What’s got your new little friend upset?”

“There is someone in dire need of medical aid. I wasn’t able to get much out of her beyond that, but she was being secretive enough about his identity that I suspect her guardian would be in a great deal of trouble if it was widely known.” Aurelia shook her head. “I’m sorry, but whatever’s happened with your dead man, you’ll either need to continue your investigation alone or wait until I return.”

“Return? What do you mean-” The furrow in his brow deepened visibly. “...Where are you going?”

The Garlean stared at him as if he’d gone entirely daft. “Well, with the girl. Back to her home, of course. What did you think I meant?”

“What- you absolutely will not.”

“Keveh’to, I must. I’m a chirurgeon. This is my profession. No matter how much you mislike the decision, I cannot simply-”

“You would risk your standing with the Hearer- with the Elder Seedseer - for a girl you met by chance yesterday. A girl whose family is possibly harboring an outlaw?”

“We don’t know what he is, only that she won't discuss him. ...Although I shall own that is most likely to be the case.”

“Ewain’s going to be furious with you.”

“Ewain has yet to approve of aught I do. ‘Twould be a terrible pity to disappoint his abysmal expectations, especially if it means healing someone of whom he might not approve."

“You know very well what I mean! Trevantioux’s not in charge but he’s still Ewain’s assistant for now, and he’s of half a mind to have you punted back to Gridania as it is. If you go so far as to simply take off on your own like this, the Hearer might actually listen to him.”

“It falls to you to make sure that doesn’t happen, then, doesn’t it? Make excuses for me if you must, but I am going.”

His frustration was writ large across his face, and although Aurelia couldn’t help a sense of passing amusement at the sight - apparently even the good sergeant had his prejudices - her concern for Vahne’s predicament left her with little patience nor time to coax him into an agreement.

“Very well,” he sighed. “When? Tonight?”

“As soon as I’ve gathered my things.” When he opened his mouth to object, Aurelia raised one of her hands. “I know, but I really don’t think it would be wise to wait on Ewain’s approval- Frieda!”

“Aurelia-”

“Yes, love?” came the response from the hallway. Aurelia ignored Keveh’to’s quiet string of exasperated oaths.

“Can you watch her for about a quarter bell? I’m running back to the house for some things and then our friend and I will be on our way!”

“Aurelia, we should talk about-” She pushed her way past him and opened the front door, Keveh’to trailing behind. “Damn it, wait for me!”

Trevantioux must have chosen to linger on his way home; the house was still empty when she threw the latch and slipped through the door. She hurried past the small partition that made up her room, reached into the plain cabinet by her cot, and retrieved the heavy standard-issue medicus’ field kit from its resting place for the first time in moons.

From his spot in the doorway, she could hear Keveh’to tapping his toe impatiently. She reached into her leather satchel to search for her journal and her gathering bag, then shouldered her burdens and made her way into the main area. “Surely you don’t plan to walk with all of that,” he said.

“Why, Sergeant Epocan! If one didn’t know better, one might suspect you were concerned for my welfare.”

“Someone should worry about you. For a lass as quick-witted as you are, you are downright bleeding pigheaded sometimes, do you know that, Mistress Laskaris?”

“So I am,” she said, without skipping a beat. “Obstinate as a gigas, my governess used to say. ‘Tis the Garlean in me, you understand. As a race, we’re rather a stubborn lot.”

The scowl he wore trembled, the tiniest bit, into a smirk. She grinned.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” she said, “but I will be back.”

“That isn’t what I’d call reassuring.”

“Keveh’to, I have had any number of opportunities since our arrival here to attempt an escape. Please. I’m asking you the same thing I just asked Vahne.”

“Vahne?”

“The girl. I’m asking you to trust me.”

He folded his arms over his chest, ears flat and tail flickering unhappily.

“I do,” he admitted, gruffly.

“And pray make my excuses to the Hearer. I know you’ll think of something believable.”

Frustration gave way at last to resignation. It was the same sort of look Sazha used to give her when she’d successfully talked him into some childish scheme or harmless prank, and she felt a sharp and unexpected pang in her breast, one that she shoved down immediately as she brushed past him to open the door.

She needed to go back for Vahne so they could be quickly along her way. Remorse could wait.

~*~

Vahne seemed both surprised and relieved to see her - though rather less pleased about carrying two of Aurelia’s satchels - and they were off as soon as their waterskins were refilled and Frieda had pressed extra biscuits upon them (never minding Vahne’s embarrassed insistence that she wasn’t hungry). The stiffness and tension flowed out of the girl’s shoulders once they entered the tree line on the opposite embankment of the creek bed. She had lost none of her anxiety; it lingered still in her furrowed brow, but she had stopped crying and even made a brief attempt at conversation as the two made their way through the forest.

“So how did you meet him?”

“Who?”

“You know who.” Vahne’s brow lifted beneath her fringe. “No one out here just makes friends with a Keeper.”

“And why shouldn't I? Keveh'to is an adventurer like myself. He fought the Empire as part of the Twin Adder. I met him when I first arrived in Gridania.” It was the truth, Aurelia thought, for all that it was rather broad and quite sparing of some few selective details.

“All right, so what’s he doing out here, then?”

“He was assigned out here and so was I, so we traveled to Willowsbend together.”

Vahne squinted at her for a long beat in silence, adjusting the strap of Aurelia’s herb satchel from one shoulder to the other before she spoke again.

“I think you’re lying, miss.”

“And I think you’re being impertinent.”

Her young companion huffed, lower lip protruding outward with her sullen and sidewise glare. “Adults always say that when they don’t want to answer my questions.”

“I wonder why that would be.”

Vahne’s glare deepened into a fitful scowl and that was the end of the discussion.

The afternoon wore on beneath the quiet crunch of leaves and the occasional snap of twigs, and they walked in a silence that continued unbroken with the exception of the occasional bird call in the distance. Aurelia stopped their trek long enough to rest and take some water and a light snack, and she could sense the fear and impatience coming off the girl in waves even to pause for such a basic necessity. As the pair made their way into the depths of the Shroud, the sun sank lower in the trees until the light grew dim in what little of the sky was visible beyond the canopy.

Aurelia was loath to admit to it, but exhaustion was beginning to run its treacly fingers up her legs, dragging her footsteps. They seemed to sink deeper into leaves and loam with each passing step. She’d long since fallen out of the routine of daily hard exercise that castrum life had imposed, and this was a longer trip than she had expected. Even half-emptied the field kit dug painfully into her shoulder, but there was little for it save to continue on and hope there was respite in sight.

As if on cue she felt a tug at the corner of her dalmatica.

“Up ahead.” Vahne adjusted the strap on her shoulder and pointed. “There it is, that’s my Aunt Rhaya’s cabin.”

She would have missed it if she weren’t looking for it. The small homestead all but blended into the background of birch and sycamore, a thread of peat smoke twining in a vague ribbon from what appeared to be a thatched roof half-covered in pine needles.

Despite what must surely have been the welcome sight of her home, the Miqitten at Aurelia’s side did not move. She stood transfixed upon the path towards the clearing and stared in the direction of the cabin’s front door, her luminous grey eyes glassy and bright with newly formed tears.

“Vahne? What’s wrong?”

“My aunt, she…” Those thin shoulders slumped forward. “...Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s- she’s going to be mad at me,” she whispered. Her voice was small and tremulous. “Really, really mad. I don’t know… she might not let you inside.”

Aurelia tried to offer as reassuring a smile as she could muster. “Well, let’s not invite trouble before it appears, shall we? We can cross that bridge when it arises. I can take my bags back if they’re too heavy for you.”

“No… no, it’s all right. They’re not any trouble, really.” Vahne’s mouth arched downwards in a trembling bow. “It wouldn’t help, anyroad.”

A lantern light flickered fitfully in one of the windows, and as dusk descended upon the forest it became a beacon for them both, healer and huntress in training. Aurelia nearly startled when Vahne slipped one thin hand around hers and squeezed, tightly- but knew almost as soon as it happened that Vahne would be embarrassed should she remark upon it. She liked the girl and wanted to spare her feelings, so she only returned the gesture with a brief squeeze of her own as they drew near.

Something instinctive drew its fingers up her spine all of a sudden and Aurelia stopped, grabbed her young companion’s hand, and pulled her to a halt as the door was flung unceremoniously open. A handsome Miqo’te woman who looked very much like Vahne all but threw herself across the threshold, bow and arrow nocked and ready to fire. The expression on her pretty face, what Aurelia could see of it in the growing darkness, was grim and tight-lipped.

Vahne quailed at her side, half-concealed behind a nearby stack of lumber. The woman, who Aurelia assumed must be her aunt, did not seem to notice.

“Stay where you are! Don’t come any closer!” she snarled. The creak of wood was audible as her slender fingers pulled the bowstring taut, and Aurelia doubted she would hesitate if her bluff was called. “Get yourself back to the road, stranger, or I’ll see you buried in the forest.”

“Madam, please,” Aurelia began, “I’m-”

“You get one more warning before I let my bow speak for me. Your choice.”

That face could have been hewn from the white stone of Amdapor for all the softness in it- and in the next heartbeat, Vahne stepped forward and pushed her back behind the lumber pile, shielding Aurelia with her body before she could protest.

The woman’s eyes flared wide with surprise, and her grip on the bow relaxed.

“Vahne? What are you-”

“I won’t let you hurt her, Auntie,” Vahne burst out, flinging her skinny arms outward. “You’ll have to shoot me first!”

Vahne’s aunt was quick to recover, the angry set of her jaw returning in full force.

“...Who is this person?”

“This is Miss Aurelia,” she replied, and after a rather more hesitant beat, added: “She’s a conjurer. She’s the lady who saved me in the ruins-”

“Where you were not supposed to be.” Those steely grey eyes, a shade or two darker than the girl’s, narrowed to slits. “...Vahne, so help me, if you went into Quarrymill to fetch her-”

The girl’s face had gone pale.

“No! Aunt Rhaya, she… it’s just a little village, on the far side of the creek. I wasn’t- I-I was careful to make sure that-”

“You know what we discussed! No one was to know about him, Vahne! No one!”

It was quite clear this impasse wasn’t going to be solved any time soon without her intervention. Aurelia cleared her throat and nudged the girl to one side, neatly sidestepping her extended arms, and both Miqo’te stared at her.

“Good evening, madam,” she said, as politely as she could manage. “I hate to interrupt, but- I assume you must be Rhaya? Vahne has spoken of you before.”

Vahne winced, visibly, at the hostile glare the other woman gave her before turning her suspicious glare upon the newcomer- but her aunt nodded, slowly.

“Aye, I’m Rhaya Wolndara. And who’re you?”

“My name is Aurelia. As your niece says, I’m a conjurer and chirurgeon, and a member of the guild in Gridania. Now, I’m given to understand that someone in your household is in need of a healer. Is this true?”

“We don’t need help from the likes of you,” Rhaya said flatly. “I don’t know what Vahne told you, but no Gridanian is about to set foot-”

“Aunt Rhaya, please! He’s going to die if we don’t do something!” Vahne blurted. She stamped one foot in the dirt and the tears in her eyes overflowed, trickled down her cheeks, dripped onto her kurta. “I told you about her yesterday when I met her and you said it was fine and we don’t need her but it’s not fine, he’s dying!”

“Vahne-”

“She wants to help! Can’t you at least let her try?”

Aurelia looked between Rhaya and Vahne, whose tears were clearly borne of anger and frustration, and opened her hands in a conciliatory gesture.

“Vahne has given me no details save that there was an emergency,” she said. “If you like I can come in, make an examination, and tell you what needs to be done and a decision can be made from there. But this is a private matter and I see no need to involve the Guild nor anyone else.”

“....You won’t tell anyone you were here,” Rhaya said, after a long and deliberate pause. “I have your word?”

“You have my word.”

The flickering candlelight from the lantern haloed the huntress’ lithe form in such a way that made her expression difficult to see, but after a pause, Rhaya lowered her bow and gestured towards the door with a jerk of her chin.

“Shoes at the door. Follow me.”

#chapter 26 #reborn by fire #chrysalispen writes #aurelia laskaris #garlean warrior of light

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