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natewriteslol · 3 years

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Hey! Could i request the dorm leaders with an esper MC? Kinda like Mob psycho or Saiki k :) and maybe they don't really use this ability of theirs that much since in their world they're literally a teen who's trying to live a normal life(like Mob basically), so nobody knew about their psychic powers except Grim since the mirror said that he couldnt sense any magic in them(i'm pretty sure that psychic powers don't really count as magic but idk lol).

Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna write it! :)

A/N: Ooh this was a fun one! I haven't watched Mob Psycho (I know about that fine ass blonde man-) but I have watched Saiki k and I loved it, still need to finish it tho jlafljhdas

Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Azul Ashengrotto, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

P.S: I’m so sorry this is so long omg but I guess this is a strong comeback-

Warnings: none except for language

Riddle:

-You wanted to stay as far away as possible from him

-Riddle was part of the trio of people you wanted to stay away from: Riddle, Vil, and Azul

-Riddle paid so much attention to fine details that if something was up, he'd definitely notice it

-But unfortunately you were best friends with the two goobers of Heartslabyul: Ace and Deuce

-And Riddle had started to pay attention to you and your habits, and something was off with you

-It's almost as though you tried too hard to be normal, like Jamil

-And he could never let something like that happen again, so yes he was watching you

-One day you accidently slipped up and was irresponsible with your powers

-Grim was bothering you since he got into a deal with Azul for tuna and they were standing outside with the twins, since Grim lost

-You told him to fend for himself and teleported, however you didn’t plan where you would go

-And you teleported into the Heartslabyul dorm

-What sucks is that your teleportation power was literally flashy with a bright ass green light every time you popped in somewhere

-Just when you thought you were lucky since the whole dorm was uninhabited...except for Riddle who watched the whole thing

-He was completely shocked, he didn’t know what to say other than “What did you just do?!”

-You explained to him, and that just pieced everything together

-How you solved overblots with such ease, and that one day you had a “strength potion to test for Azul” was such bs!

-Riddle ends up keeping your secret, since he values your privacy but if you do something major and mess up then he will tell!

-”I understand but please be more careful with your powers. I need to institute discipline and you are no exception, Y/N.”

-He really does care about you and doesn’t want you to be found out

-Goes the extra mile to cover for you often, and in exchange you help him out with things :)

Leona:

-He didn't really care about you at first but as you started to hang Jack and Ruggie, Leona started to get more suspicious

-Your scent had proven that you had some trace of magic, but Leona just couldn't put his finger on it

-So he sent Ruggie after you for a couple of days

-If you were a threat to Savanaclaw, Leona would crush you

-But Ruggie had only reported back that everything with you was perfectly normal

-"Just give it up Leona, they're just an ordinary human. The scent is probably weird because they're from a completely different world."

-But Leona still had that feeling, so he was keeping an eye on you

-You had made a deal with Crowley to keep your powers secret to solve problems on campus (it did cut repair costs and handymen costs in half so-)

-Your new quest was to rid the forest of the Angolo fungus that was manifesting into living fungus blobs

-The one thing that gave you away was Grim, as you both had to stop by the Greenhouse to read some info about the fungus

-The cat beast was being far too loud, not understanding why he had to go and mess around with the icky fungus

-You simply replied “It’ll be quick, I’ll just use Hydrokinesis and dry out the fungus since they’re mainly filled with water. They become fertilizer once dried so we can just leave them there.”

-And there Leona was, ears perked up once he heard your voice

-Hydrokinesis? What are you talking about?

-So he set off, following you to the forest

-You started to fly, turning the once green and lively fungus to brown dust while Grim napped against a tree

-Leona for the first time in the while, was left speechless

-Once you noticed him, you realized you had to talk to him

-Confronting him later on, luckily Leona didn’t spill to anyone

-He promised to never tell anyone about what he saw, and had no clapbacks for what you had to say

- Leona doesn’t even benefit from this secret...besides mayyybee one day asking for your help if his pride lets him

-By the Great Seven why does everything have to not be in his favor-

Azul:

-Another one who you have got to be careful around, since he’s incredibly observant

-More observant than Riddle

-Azul noticed that you’re an incredibly average person, and were incredibly relaxed even during the most stressful situations

-And almost every single time whenever you were in a tight spot, it works in your favor

-Just how is that possible? Solving overblots left and right? Every single time you disappeared the infestation of magical beasts are gone?

-One day, you were getting picked on by a three guys, their stature far above yours and incredibly strong. How could you possibly win?

-Just as he was about to scoop in a save you, you slammed one of the men into the concrete, taking on the other two by electrocuting them, the blue lightning buzzing in your palms

-They were completely knocked out, dusting off your palms and picking up your things only to face Azul’s eyes

-After giving an explanation of what that was, he was still speechless

-Azul at first was incredibly shocked and then since Azul is Azul... later on realized this had benefits

-He could just blackmail you to be his new bodyguard!

-Oh how he always manages to bend life to his will-!

-So you could just wipe his memory... or turn him into stone...nvm

-You’re now Azul’s arch nemesis since you end up saving people from his scamming and you’re basically untouchable and there’s nothing he can do about it

-But he does find your great strength admirable (and a lil hot, I mean what can u say seeing someone floating in the air with electricity flowing through them is a nice look okay Nate shut up)

Kalim:

-Oh Kalim my beloved

-He just thinks that you’re incredibly talented and a little mysterious

-You have your little quirks and he has his! Who is he to judge?

-Until one day you wanted to make the load lighter on Jamil, since the berries that Kalim had requested for were only in season in one country

-You decided to just teleport and then come back with the berries so Kalim wouldn’t be pouty

-You were outside the door ready to teleport when last minute you felt a hand on your shoulder

- “Oh Y/N you forgot-!”

-And there both you and Kalim were, in a berry field thousands of miles away from the Scarabia dorm

-Kalim screams, falling to the lush green of the field

-What happened?! Where are we?! How did you do that?!

-You quickly gathered all the berries at light speed, making sure that you got back before Jamil realized that you were gone

-Kalim wasn’t scared of you, rather impressed that you were able to keep a secret for that long, he could never!

-You’re already super cool, and on top of this you have otherwordly powers!

- “It must’ve been stressful living your life like this! But don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret!”

-Yes he sometimes asks you to perform some of your powers for him, sorry Y/N-

Vil:

-While you were his friend, he was incredibly suspicious of you

-Even though you wiped everyone’s memory, he still had the faint memory of when he was in overblot mode of you blasting him with a beam of light

-Vil was incredibly upset as one of his assistants had mixed up his items, and left one of his vital skincare items on the set of where they were filming a new commercial

-It was being shipped and would take 3 days to reach NRC

-His mood was horrible and you had to do something about it to give grace to the Pomefiore dorm

-So you went to the second story of the Pomefiore dorm, ready to use Apport (the power to pull anything before you)

-However, Vil felt incredibly guilty

-He was acting like a child and he shouldn’t have taken it out on the people who he loves and values

- “Y/N, how I was acting was incredibly inappropriate and- is that my moisturizer? How did you get it?”

-Starts freaking out as this was impossible as it was on it’s way from being shipped from another country

-This was the last straw for him ther was no justification for this that wasn't done by some form of magic

-He takes you to his room to make you sit down and give him an explanation for this

-Once you finished, Vil understood but was still freaked out

-He cares alot about keeping your powers a secret and will cover for you

-"So my aport powers need to exchange something of equal value so... I exchanged it with that Scucci purse over there-

-"MY LIMITED EDITION SCUCCI PURSE?!"

-He loves you, but you're dead to him, Y/N dear

Idia:

-Before he knew you, he didn't really notice anything off with you

-A little quiet sure but he minded his own business, he had bigger things to focus on

-Until you hung around Ignihyde more often for a project, fixing a huge generator by yourself for one of your partners for a project

-They took a break only after you told them that they could and apprehensive went to go get food and water

-Anyone with eyes could see that there's an overbearing amount of energy flowing through the fairly large sized cube

-Wait, you were wearing no gloves, you could get electrocuted! Why would have your bare hands on something like that?!

-Just as he was able to yell, it was too late, your whole body was flowing with the bright blue energy... and then you let go

-You were walking completely fine, you went and held a random wire on the ground, placing the electricity inside

-The static from your hair was gone, and you looked completely normal. . .

-Just what the hell are you?

-He did hours of research trying to figure you out, even sending Ortho to monitor you

-Yet there was nothing, you were just a “regular teen”

-Was ready to get S.T.Y.X.S on your ass- (is that too soon to joke abt my bad overblot boys-)

-Until one day he caught you again bending electricity to your will

-Is incredibly impressed with your power (lowkey wanting to experiment on you)

-After he realizes that you can read minds Idia is so damn frightened

- “O-Okay I promise not to say anything, just don’t tell anyone what I’m thinking a-alright?!”

Malleus:

-You were one of the only people who he trusted

-Malleus had always detected some form of magical aura that was otherworldly from you and it never seemed to fade

-And it wasn’t often, but it was almost like you knew what he was thinking

-Whenever he was deeply upset he felt a twinge of energy from you, and then you would insist and help him out with his problems

-And he flat out says “Are you reading my mind, Y/N?”

-You had never been directly outed like this before, you felt horrible

-You never read people’s minds unless it was very necessary

-whenever Malleus felt deeply gloomy you felt like it was important to just read his mind and help him with the problem

-You explained it to him and apologized, but he wasn’t upset

-In fact, he was smiling?

- “It seems like we have alot of things that we’re hiding from each other. But... you always had the best intentions whenever you used your abilities”

-He let out a sigh and reluctantly admitted, “And, I know that I’m quite stubborn with revealing my feelings.”

- “I will keep your secret as long as you keep mine, Child of Man,” the dragon fae said, you both shaking on it

- “I always had a feeling that you were special, but I never thought it would be something of this caliber...”

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sugar-petals · 3 years

Text

sub!Yuzu | nsfw alphabet

🌹 NOTE ⇢ content for our fave figure skater, the legend himself. mr. yuzuru hanyu is 1000% dom candy and i’m here to honor it at length ⛸

— WORDS. 5k

tags + warnings. dom/sub dynamics, femdom!reader, role reversal hc, smut, kinks, cum play, spanking, sex toys, very freaky yuzu, kitten play, mdlb, crying kink, food play, prostate orgasms, bondage, some deeper stuff & angsty bits, asthma mention, aftercare

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Once the cat ears come off, who is Yuzuru Hanyu not to remain in character for a while. For the shits and giggles, and because it’s cozy. Once a catboy, always a catboy, it’s the law of the land. Curling up, kneading at you for the head pats and massages, you know the programme.

Also: Yuzu is famously soft-spoken and always finds the right thing to say. So, stimulating conversation for the cooldown. This is literally so nice. He’s unafraid to reflect everything in detail, say what he preferred, what you could change up together, what he wants to try next. The afterglow is not just physical, as in you give him something to drink, it’s 70% verbal which is very important to him as a consistent habit.

Of course, not to forget: Always gotta have a Winnie Pooh plushie ready. He embraces it readily and, as we know him, does some roleplay right then and there. Yuzu, professional cutiepie he is, is the kinda sub who treats all plush and pillow stuff as alive and breathing. You as his domme are in on the play and also treat his things as holy as they are to him. That Yuzu lets you into that world is the biggest compliment you can possibly get.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Yuzu’s godly ass and thighs. Or the staggering waist and beautiful black hair that makes him a total bombshell in his classic comb-back styles. His face is soft and expressive and so damn unique, his legs muscular and long, his back and tummy chiseled, the list goes on and on. Jesus, he has so many great features. All body parts a masterpiece. That are all capable of god-tier contortionism on top of that, gotta mention it in passing. Just so you know if you haven’t seen him bend his every limb into directions you wouldn’t believe are humanly possible.

Interestingly though. If he chooses, Yuzu picks his feet: They are his most important instrument and weak spot. His ankles are where the magic happens. So, you taking care of them a little would mean the world to him, imagine a candle light massage. Not to worry, no-gross-alert. Yuzu has perfect and cute feet. That’s gonna be a Victorian moment, oh my god I saw his ankles. For his partner, short and simple: He likes a shoulder to lean on. He loves being touchy in general, all body parts are amazing to him. Being in a profession that’s all about the physics, Yuzuru knows about the wonders of the body.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Certified king of cumsluts, doesn’t even hesitate. The more, the merrier. If he’s not covered in sticky stuff, Yuzu would be underchallenged. It’s less about the taste, texture or any degradation, for him it’s the playing around with his tongue. Somebody wants his mouth preoccupied. Give the cat his milk. Feed him his own cum mixed with yours. He’s gonna lap at it and swallow.

Since Yuzu’s dream is a mommy domme baking him something, he just loves the smell of dough and hazelnuts and cinnamon and everything — you know what’s coming: Imagine the food play. Nuts indeed. Anything that even remotely looks like a creampie is something he wants to get his lips on. And Yuzu is not the type to be a foodie at all, let that sink in. Sexual-looking food is just too big a temptation, though. And you spoiling him that way... oh my. Surefire way to end up in bed right after.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a butt plug collection. Once almost went on the ice with one in. The more you know. Also— this guy is the kinda type fantasizing to get absolutely railed on a bed of plushies. He has troubles suggesting it to you because he doesn’t want them to get actually dirty. But the idea gets the two of you kind of horny. Sometimes, a thought is better as a fantasy than actually executing it. You can use it for riling up’s sake, whispering it to him during dirty talk. How you’ll bounce on him and ruin him and milk him while he’s splayed out so innocently on your bed. I smell corruption kink.

Another secret Yuzu keeps is just how much he changed his mind about wanting his partner to control everything in bed. He grew up with a pre-defined ideal type of a cute, nice skater girl who’d let the reins very loosely around him, who he can speak Japanese to because he had problems with English, who is small and someone he will protect. It wasn’t something based on experience and trying things out: It was simply expected of him. People wanted the domineering Yuzuru on ice to be that way in private, and make use of his power, be a man, savior, boss.

The reality being: He never felt truly as tough on the ice, nor was he gender-conforming in person. In fact, that is what he became famous for, and it reassured Yuzuru very often how people would accept and actually celebrate this side of him. Which is so refreshing, and a sight to see. The side that was dorky, clingy, childish, gorgeous, and cute has always been there, but now he embraces it more as his comfort place. He has to know what he’s doing in his skating programme and show competitive spirit to achieve his dreams, but that’s where it stops.

His former ideals are something people wanted to hear, it was an adaptation of the environment rather than thinking it through on his own. So, years later — oh boy have things changed. Yuzuru no longer defines his ideal type that way, saying whoever he likes is someone he’d be with. What was a fantasy template and filter is now gone and adapted to his newfound, own preferences. Yuzu is comfortably open-minded rather than being a copy to mainstream. He found fun in speaking English, opened up to the world at large, had more girls around him who he could befriend, grew more confident in his stature, and is well aware — turns out he’s the cute one. Who needs to be taken under a wing. He likes strong-minded girls and says if he had a wife, she’d dominate him. Yuzuru secretly wants her to be in charge entirely, she owns his body and soul. Not in daily life where things are just normal and everyone goes about their business. Sexually, where he surrenders instead, and is taken care of.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The tale of an introvert. What he knows — he hides it well. Has eyefucked a whole lot of people and is the type to lust like mad from a far distance, and nobody will ever know. Crushes harder than peppercorns in a mill. If he loves someone, it lingers in his mind every split second of the day, may god have mercy on him. And if you know him: Yuzu aims too high to keep it light and easy and clumsy. He hates being an amateur, he’s terrified of starting out something. He dreads not knowing what to do, how exactly to behave, talk, touch, breathe, respond, negotiate, prepare. That’s a hundred percent like hell to him.

Ironically, he has a natural feeling for it and he’s literally amazing in bed, has a sense for social interaction is all the way cute with something valuable to say. But what he believes is something way different. Yuzuru is a diehard, nervous perfectionist. He can only think of it as a rated performance since his mind usually has to work that way to skate well. His esteem is on a knife edge depending on how well he thinks he does. So, the inevitable: He will shy away from sex altogether. He draws immense skating passion from staying celibate, in fact it’s his success secret, but it still eats him up from the inside and makes him frustrated beyond measure. Not even for the pleasure, since he’s so ambitious that’s almost forgotten about, but for being told he did well.

That’s how much he believes sex is a drill and capability test. And it’s sad that he thinks it’s like his skating career, racking up points for the impossible things judges want and being in a deadlock when it comes to showing his artistic side. He feels thrown into cold water if he doesn’t know everything beforehand. If he ever works up the courage, which probably won’t happen, he will pay an expert to learn from rather than let something all over the place happen with a random person or even someone he might like.

Yes, you heard that right. He’d rather see a sex worker than ‘mess up’ his first time according to his sky-high standards. So, Yuzu’s experience remains limited since he’s so 100% do or die, and so anxious, and so torn about social interaction, he doesn’t get how his peers can be playboys and get married and flirt with someone they like and all that. He sort of has an easier time with guys, but girls... he can’t approach. To top it off, he also feels like he’d burden his first time one somebody or embarrasses himself, so he will reject and avoid suitors. Those are usually not the people he crushes so hard on to begin with. It’s bound to be one-sided and he knows, so he will abstain and focus on career and use the cheers of his fans as a substitute.

Truth is, he feels helpless and distant from sex sometimes, especially with his practice-heavy lifestyle and hyper-smart mind, Yuzuru has an intelligence that exceeds what most people can grasp. He’s alone on the ice and Brian as a coach is often the only reference person who truly gets him, and leads him well without being controlling. But that’s professional life. Sexually, Yuzuru is metaphorically: coachless. He surely observed it well when Javier (the #1 ladies man, his opposite) was still active and a social butterfly helping him fit in, but Yuzu would always be worried about his extreme fame and spotless image when introduced to someone fangirling over him. He’d rather prefer someone who comes across as a mentor and solid, loyal-to-death person to look up to. So he would do anything to have someone benevolent like that. Most girls would expect him to be the sex god and expert, but he knows that’s only half of the story and based on his characters on the ice. Yuzu crafts these to counterbalance how he really is — withdrawn and indirect.

Yuzu is extremely calculating and selective, he scans suitors well, protects his reputation, and is mortified of failure. So, he’d rather learn it by the book and from someone he’s not emotionally attached to. In a one-night stand that might also be the case, but he doesn’t know what to expect, and he’s absolutely terrified of sudden sexual vulnerability. He himself often says he values his own struggle between feeling so weak and being strong again

Besides: He’d have problems squeezing hookups into his schedule and lifestyle, he’d have to cut down on things and create a double life. Plus, Yuzu is famously inept with social interaction up close, he flees the noise and unpredictability. So, it’s better to have a long-term partner. If he doesn’t know something yet, he has it down in one day like the single axel. Definitely counts on his partner teaching him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

We know Yuzu’s signature move is the lean-back Ina Bauer. So, whatever position allows for an arch is the real deal (cough, taking the strap — oh my god his ass is made for it). But anyway, he can pull off anything with that stellar flexibility and core strength.

If I think about it. Yuzu might like sitting on your lap very much. I know it’s not a sex position, I mean it can be once his inner lapdancer awakens or you use a strap-on, I rather mean... just for some sweet moments and making out. But yeah: Fathom Yuzu gyrating on your like that. Not in an outright lascivious manner or Chippendales style. The Hanyu way, with embellishments and all the grace. This is gonna be a huge turn-on and perfect foreplay position.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not much to elaborate here: Yep, Yuzu is true goofball indeed. Really flustered and clumsy when eye-to-eye in missionary, and yet: He’s ultra serious towards the end, there’s gonna be an aggressive staredown before cumming. The feeling gets pretty intense, his duality between silly and ‘yeah, give it to me’ is no joke.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Would probably die from inflammation if he shaved clean under those tight suits and did all these chafe-heavy skating routines. Doesn’t have a lot of body hair to begin with, but for pits and pubes, it’s alive, wild, and decently long. Out of all people, Yuzu cares particularly about aesthetics, but in this case pragmatism will prevail. He doesn’t care too much about it either as long as it doesn’t get in the way of something. Having sex with Yuzu tends to be well um well all about a hundred types of friction so any stubble would be a bad idea.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You haven’t seen a guy in love like that. It’s a figure skater thing for sure. Since he works to portray these sentiments on the ice daily, hardly anybody can play up feelings so delicately and palpably like Yuzuru. Emotion is what his entire career is built on. He knows how to express himself directly, appropriately, intimately. Couldn’t be any more romantic. Yuzu can’t go without it.

Very passionate, ‘for your eyes only’ kind of atmosphere. Yes, he shows off on the ice, it’s his job (although of course, that word doesn’t really sum up what skating means to him). But private Yuzu is someone you can claim as yours. He will make it clear, he wants to belong to you, he’s yours, dedicated, devotion is the entire point. Less with a slant of what some subs like, very hands-on ownership of a mistress. It’s more emotional. He’s really attached and all smitten. Your private little haven is everything to him.

Talking about little: Yuzu can be quite a pillow prince sometimes. At least when the initiative doesn’t go back and forth as it frequently does, you often alternate with suggestions and ways of tweaking an ongoing play session. You blindfold him or tie his wrists, He might be standard tired from practice or just fascinated to watch you work your magic on him.

He also likes music to set the tone for intimacy, who’s surprised. Prepare: Yuzu likes dramatic classical music all the way. He’s probably one of the few people who can make it more than ‘classy’ and definitely more than cringe. He selects pieces very well. This is gonna be a practice template to cum together when the music reaches its peak. Makes the whole thing full of adrenaline.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lots of fun to him. Would beat it 24/7 if the ice wasn’t calling him. Drowns himself in lube. This guy’s me-time is so rated R, Cardi B would be inspired to remix WAP to wet ass penis as an anthem just for him. A dry dick is a ruined day for Yuzuru, as is a session without teasing his prostate in whatever way he currently fancies. Once he tried it, he never went back. The intensity knocking him out is something that Yuzu thinks about all the time. Strokes like a pro, does all these little moans, can do it forever, loves the feeling, chases the high. Adrenaline junkie on the ice? No different with his hand around his cock.

Will masturbate everywhere in the house and has to really get his head in the game to make sure he won’t ruin any carpets. So, he always has at least two towels with him. In the kitchen, in front of the TV, in the shower, the bed. Watches his fair share of eclectic porn, he gets really desperate. Especially before you started dating, Yuzu would shut himself in until the lotion ran out. Can jack off to something romantic (he starts crying) or something extreme (he loves shocking himself and ).

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Very curious about sadomasochism. Googles a lot of things that make him hard during the day. Often jawdropped by his research, but once he tries things out with you, nothing can really shock him anymore. Absolutely wants to be collared, it’s his biggest fantasy. Another little secret he has, Yuzu is decked out in skating gloves, right. He wishes he could feel you wearing them, or he keeps them on for sex himself, the lacey transparent ones. Looks especially pretty when his wrists are tied so, major photograpy material. Oh yes, Yuzu likes the camera, he can work it. The guy is photogenic in any position and can strike any angle you want. Your phone background is a new Yuzu snapshot every week already, imagine your gallery, 5800 kinky pictures.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I’m gonna say it. The frozen lake out of town, late at night, condoms and lube with you. A quickie that will leave your genitals frozen. Yuzu might get stuck inside you because it’s -15 Celsius. Call that fantasy on ice. Jokes aside: Come on, Yuzu is the biggest ever hermit homebody. The couch will have a bunch of indents after your week-long fucking sessions after he comes home training. Also, at his desk while he does work for university. You ride him, Yuzu studies. Double the ambition. His dick is completely sore. The lake out of town thing might go down, but without sex. Just skating together under the stars, Yuzu doing amazing spins and spirals around you, very very romantic.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yuzu is a crazed Sagittarius. Have you seen these men? They just want it all. Must be the influence of Jupiter. Zeus was definitely vibing that way. And yes, Yuzu has borderline unhealthy gold medal thinking in bed. He wants to be not just good but damn good with pleasing you. If you don’t have a good time and head home without an orgasm, he’ll consider himself a failure. Yuzu won’t cut himself any slack there. You’d have a hard time changing his ways into something more chill and moderate. Instead, you will see the benefits of rolling with it once you see how improvement fuels him and does make sex really mindblowing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Couldn’t do things like slapping you, spanking. Yuzu makes for a terrible daddy dom, it’d not suit him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Cum-dripping oral mess, Yuzu is the brave kind. Totally into it, and can’t resist a good blowjob. Will act different afterwards, there’s a lot of erotic tension. “This evening again?” is what those eyes are saying.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Outstanding kinesthetic intelligence. Every inch of his body follows his intent, and yours if you have him take on certain ways of kneeling. Yuzu can do it all, whatever you want. Tantalizing, moderato, overwhelmingly fast. He can take it, he can portray it. And knows the value of a pause like a true connoisseur. Not just when he wants to prevent cumming early, also just because the moment is right. That’s why cockwarming is a staple, as well as you having him wait patiently for kisses. To top it off: If you give him a blowjob, building up the tension by doing nothing is damn effective. The ruined orgasms you’re gonna give him... delicious.

Everything’s gonna have nice transitions as well, no awkward climbing and rolling and tangling limbs. If he gets something from another room that you need, no slouching. The university course as good as the extracurricular activities. Being inconsistent with any subsidiary details? Not in the Hanyu household, he’s keeping it classy. Yuzu feels like if he makes the bridges to new positions even remotely messy, the feeling is killed and it’s as if he’d break character mid-skate. Although he’ll have to practice and refine and test a lot of things because he’s not super experienced and adapting to your own movements is an individualized thing to do, he’s a masterclass of quality, period.

Even when things get fast and heated, nothing feels off. Having that kind of body smartness also means: Yuzu learns by touch, whatever you do. He knows by the way you pull his hair what comes next. How much saliva drips off your tongue when you suck at his neck, he knows how hard you’ll to ravage him in five minutes. This guy observes things you aren’t even conscious of because his physical understanding is just so fine-tuned.

The sense of rhythm, and every skating programme of him will showcase that, unbeatable. Unless his mood is really impacted by something severe, your guy feels it in every bone. He’s an artist, after all, he listens to music all the time. Dissecting rhythms to turn them into movement is what his line of work is all about. The pace will always fit the mood. Everything is precise, but never crude. Instead, the way he moves is dictated by an inherent flow. With little accents that match right with any thrust, like putting his hands on your sides when you’re on top of him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hit it Shakira: Whenever, wherever! He seemingly carries an entire condom factory with him. Or, to be more exact: At least three of them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

This one’s a complicated case. Yuzu being reckless on the ice may or may not mirror in your private life. He might need some downtime, so bring out the soft domme stuff. No trial and error stuff, just going through a routine of things you love the most. On the other hand, he always gives it all. This guy’s endurance at your hands is amazing. Advanced kinds of BDSM he will not feel deterred from at all. Rough toys, anal hooks, sounding, whips, why not is Yuzu’s motto. But then again. He has such a confusing mix of innocence and feeling like he’s completely hardcore. You might end up experimenting a lot, but also not daring the leap sometimes because the mood is different. And then rather go for softer hours, where Yuzu will be all shy shy and more bursting with excitement than ever. A good, interesting mix is what I’m saying.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Yuzuru, once he gets a bit of practice to gauge the situation... Viagra on two legs, absolute unexpected powerhouse. You might end up pondering to work out a little and go for a run because this guy is in a consistently outstanding shape to say the least. Olympic athletes are literally hard to fuck with. And since Yuzu is starfishing sometimes (which is very adorable), or he’s in bondage for some time, that presents a further problem: For a second round, he’s full of energy, while you already spent energy. So, you alternate with who’s active, and the other leans back entirely. He has to remind himself since his body is programmed for it: This is no contest — the point is feeling good.

You might ride him reverse cowgirl all the way while you watch TV, and after the overstimulation fades he will eat you out ad nauseam, full course slobbering, sweeping the whole menu. That way, it’s less about keeping up with him, which would be hard for most people not doing sports at his galactic level. He understands, Yuzu knows he’s not normal in that regard, you don’t have to worry. Some exercise still doesn’t hurt, just to further increase the quality of sex anyway.

Then again: Why go jogging and do some laps wasting valuable together time when Yuzu’s lap is the best workout? And running doesn’t guarantee your stamina in bed is perfect even if it does help. You rather wanna manage how to draw out the arousal. It’s a self-control thing, with the goal of having you match up in every aspect as good as you can. In which case, you can count on him to pull it off: Have you seen Yuzu doing jumps side by side with a bunch of female skaters? Copy paste. This guy knows how to synchronize with the ladies.

Something that has to be mentioned beside that, though. Yuzu has asthma since 2 years old, and it’s often a mind thing to him still these days. He doesn’t let it stop him from sleeping with you because as always, he’s not letting anything get in his way. He has learned to live and thrive with it. But you both have to mind the possibility of an attack, he prevents it with inhalers, and the mood plays a crucial role. Yuzu being comfortable and confident is so important to his breathing, and keeping a good rhythm rather than being chaotic in bed. So, you will plan most of your sexual activities rather than improvising.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Would stuff an entire sex shop into his every available orifice. Yuzu is a toy freak, he wants to try everything. Motto: a new one every day. Well, almost. But he can afford it. Buys stuff he uses solely on himself, things you use on him, things he uses solo and you use on him, and as the cherry on top, every possible high end vibrator on the market for you. Any size, too. This bitch will browse through the latest innovations, prepare to get off. He’s obsessed with seeing you use it on yourself. Yuzu owns a separate phone just for videos of you buzzing your clit, and him fingering you for minutes and minutes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Extremely so. Loves to be a total brat only to get put into his place. He does it so you’ll pull the chin grab on him. He likes getting choked out as a punishment as well. Yuzu also tends to be very around the corner if you will when it comes to soft subbing, he lays over expecting cuddles but doesn’t say so. Buds his head against your chest, nuzzles, and so on. Lighter forms of teasing come to him very easily. Loves to prompt. Roughhousing, banter, favorite thing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Moderately loud because his voice is very very light, but unsurprisingly — he’s just beautiful. What a nice tone. Gorgeous whimpering sounds. And when you go hard on him, voice cracks! And really heavy breathing. What’s gonna be the most striking though is his expressiveness. We know it from the ice and interviews, and he can really amp it up even further. No need for screaming, that face will speak the volumes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You’ll be blessed with him if you have a huge crying kink. Yuzu definitely opens the waterworks every other week in bed. Happy tears, horny tears, relief tears, aftercare tears, orgasm tears, masochist tears, romantic tears, subspace tears, he has it all. He also begs for the type of pain that makes it stream down his face for minutes. He’s touchy-feely all the way and feels like he can really connect with you that way.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His ass twitching is kind of a spectacle, but I don’t have to tell you, do I. Yuzu has muscles for the gods in there. So voluptuous, you can’t call it any other way. Big booty boyfriend, Jesus you can show him off, he loves it. Around the house, he will flaunt them big ole athlete buns in particular, acting like it’s unintended. Um, Yuzu, those are joggings. Smack it, he is sure to moan.

And may I respectfully mention as well — this guy has some major big ass balls figuratively and literally. How else would someone be motivated to jump a triple axel like it’s nothing. Not kidding, they’re big and round and ugh. His love for tight pants doesn’t help. He knows what your eyes like and dresses just to flex the goods. Screams for more spanking and pinching if you ask me. Yuzu is definitely serving it. Well-endowed, you lucky girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mega horny, ready when you are. On a scale from zero to hundred? Breaching into the 90 percent right there. Yuzu’s hormones are literally insane. On paper he’s 26, but his dick wants the 18th birthday party. Jesus is he gonna be clingy when he’s in the mood. All wrapped around you in a backhug in the kitchen or when you iron a costume of his, and that’s sexy of him. He’s not gonna hide what’s filling out those sweatpants. He’ll desperately grind up against you like it’s Christmas.

Paired with his puppy eyes and little “Do you have some time... I’ll iron this tomorrow” — instant pounce. He’s admittedly a bit hard to keep up with sometimes, though. The reason: With that level of exercise, he has major pent-up energy. That machine is definitely running. Heavy sports changes your hormones, nervous system, and especially blood flow. Now take that to the scale of his performances and regimens? That equals a firework of horny. No wonder he masturbates all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Takes some time. He cools down, sweats it out, chugs water. However, don’t underestimate how tired Yuzu can already be. His daily routines and competitions have a toll on him. Ironically, he’s not a deep sleeper, however. Yuzu might toss and turn and have sudden energy bursts, or ideas, or gets hungry. So, he needs his plushies, he needs a weighted blanket, warm pajamas, a hot cup of his favorite warm drink, a light snack, and you by his side. Spooning him excessively and sometimes even humming to him. Yuzu looks like a certified angel on his pillow, his well-deserved rest from everything is so important, too.

NOTE - hope i could indulge you, thank you for reading!

#yuzuru hanyu #figure skating #yuzuru hanyu smut #yuzuru hanyu smut alphabet #yuzuru hanyu x reader #sub!yuzuru hanyu #sub!yuzu #dom!reader #fs #smut alphabet #smut abc #smut a-z

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qitwrites · 3 years

Text

breaking ground

Fandom: boku no hero academia

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / Bakugou Katsuki

(AO3)

The thing about your best friend/roommate/long-time crush/probably the love of your life being in a coma is that it sucks. Like, a lot.

‘Kats, if you don’t wake up, I will hide a dirty sock somewhere in your room. Somewhere you’ll never find it. And you’ll just have to live with that.’

The machines beep in the back, like a ghastly metronome.

‘I will move your desk 3 inches to the left.’

The soft rise and fall of the blonde’s chest is uniform, lungs contracting and expanding and contracting over and over.

‘I will literally stop watering the orchid Kats, I swear to god.’

Bakugou’s hands are by his side, nails longer than he’d ever keep. Kirishima makes a mental note to trim and file them later.

‘Ok, that’s going too far. I’d never kill Lucy, at least not on purpose.’

Bakugou continues to breathe with the help of a machine too complicated for Kirishima to understand, and the redhead just wants his best friend back. Because it’s been 16 days of Bakugou being fed and kept alive by a machine, it’s been 16 days since he heard his voice, saw his feral smile, looked into his bright, bright, bright eyes. And Kirishima is so ready for this nightmare to be over.

‘Come on Kats,’ Kirishima mumbles, laying his head down on the hospital bed and gently lacing his fingers with Bakugou’s, ‘you gotta wake up man. Our kitchen misses you. Our plants miss you. The neighbour’s cat misses you. Your mom misses you. I- fuck, I miss you.’

The machines continue to beep, his chest rises and falls uniformly, and Kirishima really just wants his best friend back.

The Bakusquad (the official immortalized name of the gang) lets Kirishima stay in the hospital in 3 days bursts, following which they bodily throw him out. For fresh air and some sunlight, they say, like he’s a dying plant.

‘You need to shower in your own home,’ Kaminari grumbles, stuffing his dirty clothes in a bag.

Sero pulls a beanie over his head. ‘And also water the plants in the balcony.’

Ashido stuffs his wallet into his pant pocket and slips his phone into his hand. ‘Also, don’t forget to dust the bookshelves! And leave some fresh water for Queens.’ She pulls him down for a soft kiss on the cheek.

Jirou pulls the phone from his hand, fiddles with it for a moment before slipping it back into his palm. She places a pair of wireless Beats headphones over his beanie, and he hears the first notes of a piano piece, calm and really lovely.

‘Playlist is on there,’ Jirou says, pointing at his hand.

And so Kirishima goes home, the home he shares with Bakugou, and he waters their plants, and dusts the bookshelves, and does some laundry and cooks easy fried rice the blonde had drilled into his brain.

He doesn’t look at Bakugou’s room door, doesn’t venture inside, doesn’t touch his space. He sticks to the common areas and his own room, and he keeps it clean and tidy, the way Bakugou likes it.

He’ll get to the blonde’s room eventually, just not yet.

Red Riot and Ground Zero are a hero pair. What this means is that they work individually when they want, and they pair up for bigger, more difficult missions.

And what a pair they make.

Riot is a wall, a shield, an unbreakable defence, always the last man standing. And Ground Zero is an explosion, a burst of light, an offence so quick and forceful the villains never stand a chance. They’re one of the best pairs out there, and they’ve done some amazing work.

It's almost stupidly ironic that Bakugou gets hurt during one of their paired missions.

The case involved several strong villains that attacked schools, and between rescue and evacuation and dealing with villains, Red Riot and Ground Zero had their hands full. Riot was mostly with the civilians and Ground Zero was keeping the damage to a minimum, but before Kirishima could go to Bakugou’s side and assist him, the damage had been done.

Because the last villain Bakugou had to deal with had decided to implode, killing himself and taking Bakugou out with him.

The damage had been immense.

Several concussions and broken ribs, bruises and internal bleeding that could only be controlled with a mix of surgeries and healing quirks. And finally, a waiting game. Bakugou had to wake up, his body had to heal itself and decide when and if he was going to wake up again.

And so Kirishima waits with him, silently supporting him from the side, ever patient, brimming with love.

25 days after the attack, Kirishima finally walks into Bakugou’s room.

The air smells faintly like sugar, like his quirk. The walls are bare but for the few polaroids Kirishima tacks on the wall above his desk. The laptop and file folders are sitting atop his table, a thin layer of dust coating them, and the only messy thing is his unmade bed.

Kirishima crawls under his sheets, breaths in his scent, and for the first time since Bakugou had decided to be an ass and slip into a coma, the redhead cries. Giant sobs that seem to come from his core, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, snot dripping out his nose.

Kirishima cries with the force of a thousand suns, and falls asleep right there, twisted in Bakugou’s sheets, in his unmade bed, in the middle of a room covered in a thin, fine layer of dust, smelling only slightly like burnt, warm sugar.

A month after the attack, Kirishima finally cleans Bakugou’s room.

Mina had made a good point. ‘If you don’t clean his room, it’s like you’re saying he’s not coming back so there’s no point. So, clean his room Eijirou.’

He appreciates that they don’t offer to do it. It’s usually impossible to keep them out of their apartment, impossible to keep them from getting belligerently drunk and playing monopoly on the living room floor while blasting 2000’s hits and throwing pieces of pepperoni at each other. Impossible to not love them.

But right now, the apartment is off-limits, and they seem to understand this. And respect it. And they understand that he needs a push here, a nudge there, and a gentle shove here to get his ass moving, to do the things he’s scared of doing, the things that just need to be done anyway

Kirishima loves them, so so much.

And so, he cleans. He dusts everything, puts Bakugou’s sheets in the wash and hangs his comforter out to dry. He fluffs up the All Might plushie and makes the bed, vacuums the floor, and puts his folded laundry back where it belongs in the closet.

He finds the box when he’s reorganizing Bakugou’s hero gear drawer. It’s a black box, smooth to the touch, no bigger than Kirishima’s palm, with just 2 words printed on top.

Death Box.

Its existence isn’t shocking to Kirishima. After all, he has one of his own, tucked neatly under his hanging jackets, pushed to the very back.

A Death Box is a pro-hero thing. It’s no secret that the life of a hero is riddled with danger and that one bad day could be the end. Every pro knows this. And most pro-heroes have a Death Box.

The contents of the box vary from person to person. Some leave behind letters addressed to friends and family. Others leave wills and assets and final testaments. Some leave behind cryptic messages or dramatic last words.

Kirishima never wondered about Bakugou’s box, and Bakugou had never asked about his own. But today, 31 days after the attack, 31 days of no Bakugou, 31 days of waking up with an ache in his chest because Kirishima’s heart is literally breaking, he finds himself gently pulling the box out and sitting on Bakugou’s bed, turning it over in his hands.

It’s really simple- no patterns or designs or anything. It's black as midnight, the lettering orange. Kirishima gently pops the box open and inside lays a single pen-drive. Nothing else.

Kirishima stares at it for a long, long time. He almost puts the box back in the drawer with the pen drive safely nestled inside, he almost forgets what he ever saw, he almost acts like he’s fine.

But he’s not fine. He’s so far from fine he can’t even spell the word. And he misses his friend with a pain so sharp he feels it in his bones. So Kirishima picks the pen drive up and takes it to the laptop. He switches the system on, plugs the drive in and waits for the program to load up.

Surprisingly, it isn’t password protected. He skims over the contents briefly. There’s a folder named Will and Final Testaments that he ignores completely. There’s another folder named Personal Project that he also leaves alone. The third folder is titled for everyone, and Kirishima clicks on that.

The folder is filled with video files of varying lengths. Each video is named after a specific person, and Kirishima smiles when he sees one for Bakugou’s mom, his dad, each of the Bakusquad, one for All Might, and one for Midoriya. The Deku video is easily bigger than all the others, all except one.

Because the one titled Shitty Hair is close to 45 minutes long.

Kirishima inhales shakily, and for once, he hesitates. Because once he watches this, he knows Bakugou will well and truly kill him. These videos, this content, it’s meant to be consumed after he dies. Not when he’s in a coma, not when he’s alive and fighting for his life. Not when he’s doing his best to come back.

But here’s the thing- Kirishima isn’t watching this because he thinks Bakugou’s as good as gone. He doesn’t believe that one bit. No, Kirishima is watching this because he misses Bakugou so much, so much that his insides feel like they're shredding up into little bits and pieces, and Kirishima just wants to hear him bark out his ugly laugh, he wants to see his eyes dance with mirth, he wants to watch Bakugou dump too much chilli into the curry and wrap himself into a blanket burrito on their couch in the dead of winter, cursing the weather viciously. He never thought he’d miss the way someone said fuck so much in his life, yet here he is.

So Kirishima inhales shakily, breathes out in a whoosh and hits play.

2 years ago

Bakugou had put off recording Kirishima’s message for years.

The one to his parents was simple enough. Dad, thank you for being some kinda balance in the house, and for loving me ridiculously unconditionally. Hag, ma, we’ve always had our own issues and we love so violently, but I do love you. I always have. Thank you for making me the devil spawn I am, couldn’t have been so great if it weren’t for you.

The Bakusquad (ugh, what a dumb name) had a video each. They weren’t super long, but he loved them all, more than they’d ever know when he’s alive, and he thought they deserved to know if he ever died before getting around to drunkenly confessing it or something.

Sero, your stupid fucking jokes have made some shitty days so much better.

Jirou, you’re insanely strong and you’ve had my back on more occasions than I can count.

Mina, my girl, you’re the OG. Thank you for never giving up on me, for always pushing me to be part of the gang, for becoming my friend.

Kaminari, you’re always gonna be hella fucking stupid, but you’re my stupid friend, one of my closest buddies, and it was a pleasure knowing you.

He might actually die if they find this when he's alive, but that’s the whole point of Death Box- it's to say the things you can't when you're alive or to remind people of the things you felt after you’re gone.

Midoriya’s had been hard. Midoriya’s had been really hard.

Unpacking so many emotions, talking about the past, UA, the present; it made his blood boil but also made him immeasurably sad. After their first year, Midoriya and he had grown close. They still found it difficult to communicate like normal human beings, but they always had each other’s backs, no matter where or what. And even as pro-heroes, they worked together wonderfully, competed for #1 fiercely, pushed each other to incredible heights, and picked each other up after terrible missions.

Deku, I know so much of our past is water under the bridge for you, and that’s been great for us because it lets us have a sort of friendship. But I haven’t forgotten. I will never forgive myself and all I could do is be better.

For all the fucked up shit that we’ve been through, for how much I still get angry when I see you and how much I want to be better than you all the time, you are the brother I never had, the comrade that never left, the friend that I’ve never deserved.

Izuku, thank you. I’m sorry.

Admitting to most of these things isn’t difficultly because it’s all true. And honesty has always come easily to Bakugou. As an adult hero, he’s learned things about himself, his own feelings, his own version of love for the people around him. And he can’t bring himself to say those exact words to Izuku, but he hopes his actions (Bentos pressed into Midoriya’s hands after long patrols, sharing beers on rooftops, patching each other up after shitty missions) are message enough.

But Kirishima? How is he supposed to find the words to tell Kirishima how he feels? How much the redhead means to him? Where does he even begin?

Bakugou huffs and slaps himself on both cheeks. Kirishima is out for the day, taking Mina shopping at the mall and catching a movie with the gang, a plan Bakugou had gotten himself out of just so he could sit here, in the apartment he shares with the only person he has ever had the good fortune of being in love with, to record a final message. What a happy thought.

Bakugou thinks Fuck it, takes a seat in front of the camera, ruffles his hair, and hits record.

‘Hey Shitty Hair.’

Hey Shitty Hair.

There are handprints on Bakugou’s face. His hair is a ruffled mess, his bed is unmade behind him, and his face looks almost nervous.

Kirishima doesn’t think about any of that.

Because seeing Bakugou on-screen with his red eyes boring into Kirishima, and hearing his voice, rough and loud and well-worn feels like the first breath of fresh air the redhead has gulped down in a month. It feels like a well-placed punch to the gut, and Kirishima almost bowls over, overwhelmed beyond comprehension.

He misses him so much.

Fuck, making this video is fucking hard, I’m not even sure where to start. Also, you better not be crying like a baby Ei, I sweat to God, I might be dead, but you still need to go out there and kick ass cause someone needs to take care of all those shitty villains.

Kirishima makes an aborted sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, because this is his best friend in the entire universe, the man he knows better than he knows himself. This is his person.

Anyway, I made a bunch of other videos for all the other losers, but yours has been the biggest pain in my ass. I guess the closer you are to someone, the harder it is right?

First off, I need to say thank you. For like, so much shit. Thank you for taking those first few steps in our friendship. For constantly pestering me and inserting yourself into my life. For training with me, including me in all kinds of stupid activities, and getting me into the gang. My time at UA would never have been so fun, so memorable, so amazing without you. You made it great, despite all the shit that went wrong.

The blonde sucks in a deep breath and his eyes pierce straight through Kirishima, peering right into his soul.

We don’t talk about Kamino because there’s never been the words. Ei, I was so scared. Fuck, I was so scared I couldn’t stop shaking. And then there you were, flying above me, hand outstretched and yelling at the top of your goddamn lungs ‘Come!’ And that’s it. I knew I’d be ok. I knew I’d be just fine.

And yeah, I mean, the pros were there and maybe we could’ve figured something else out and maybe things would’ve worked out a different way. But you guys coming for me, YOU reaching out to me? It was the first time I felt like I had friends. I had comrades. I had people. Of course, my emotionally stunted ass refused to accept these feelings, but they took root then. And continued to grow.

Bakugou sighs deeply and sits back in his chair. He looks at the ceiling and continues.

I’m not sure I know what love is. As a feeling, I don’t know how to categorize when I’m feeling love and when I’m not. At least, I didn’t for the longest time.

Bakugou looks back at the camera, and Kirishima’s vision is starting to blur dangerously.

I know I love my parents, but it feels different than the love I feel for the idiot brigade. It’s different from what I feel for Izuku. And it sure as hell feels different from the love I feel for you.

Bakugou sighs again, and his face breaks into the softest smile Kirishima has ever seen and everything hurts.

A few years ago, I think weeks after we’d moved into this place, we were making breakfast and you looked me dead in the eye and said ‘I think the morning glories are trying to kill me.’ And I laughed out loud and you looked so proud of yourself and I thought, ‘Shit, Ei is such an idiot.’ That’s when it hit me.

Bakugou’s smile grows fonder.

I don’t call people by their names even in my head Ei. You were Shitty Hair for most of our first year at UA. Then you became Kirishima, and then somehow it became Kiri, and then Eijirou and then Ei. Nobody, and I mean absolutely nobody else, is the same. Not a single fucking person.

The first time I called you Ei in my head, that’s when I realized I was in love with you.

Kirishima hits pause immediately. He closes the window, safely ejects the pen drive, puts it back in the box and returns it to its spot. He shuts the laptop down, walks out of Bakugou’s room and sits on the couch in the living area, the same one they’ve passed out on countless times, the same one they bought together with their first paychecks, the same one that’s stained with coffee rings and spaghetti sauce and pepperoni grease.

He picks his phone up on autopilot and dials a familiar number.

‘Kiri?’ Mina sounds like a hot cup of coffee on a chilly Tuesday morning.

‘Please come home.’

He hears some rustling and yelling in the background before Mina says, ‘Stay right there, we’ll be over as soon as Midoriya gets here ok?’

Kirishima hums out an affirmative and hangs up. It’s time they come home.

67 days after the fight, Kirishima gets a call.

‘He’s awake.’

Red Riot is back on the streets, patrolling during the day, staying with Bakugou in the hospital at night and barely keeping his shit together. But it’s ok, it kinda works. Works well enough that he can do his job and do it well, and his friends are always there, picking up his pieces, keeping him sane.

Before Kirishima can say anything, Midoriya continues, ‘Chargebolt is almost at your location to relieve you, so go.’

He takes off running. His lungs burn and he can barely see where he’s going but he’s made this walk so many times he can do it in his sleep. He runs as fast as his legs can take him and makes them go faster.

Kirishima bursts into the hospital and takes the stairs 3 at a time. He finally gets to Bakugou’s floor and sprints to the door, and he can barely pull in enough air. He’s lightheaded, his heart is palpitating, and his vision is blurry but he slides the door open anyway.

Carmine eyes snap over to his and time just comes to a complete standstill. There are no doctors, no nurses. There’s no Bakugou Mitsuki, no beeping machines that breathe for him, no beeping machines that feed him, no white sterile walls and ugly hospital gowns. There is only Bakugou Katsuki, his bright, bright, bright eyes and a hand outstretched at Kirishima.

‘Ei-‘

And that’s it. One moment he’s standing in the doorway, the next he has Bakugou gathered in his arms, and he’s so warm and alive and it’s absolutely everything.

‘Kats,’ Kirishima mumbles. ‘Kats.’

‘Ei, if you start crying, I will smack the shit out of you.’

Kirishima’s laugh is watery. He pulls away and cups Bakugou’s face, smooshing his cheeks a little.

‘Kats, for once, shut the fuck up and let me feel my feelings. Do you have any idea how much the plants missed you?’

Bakugou’s mouth twists in a grimace but his eyes soften till they’re just liquid ruby and Kirishima falls a little more in love.

‘Just the plants?’

‘Shut the fuck up Kats.’ And Kirishima hugs him again, presses Bakugou’s face firmly into the crook of his neck. The blonde’s arms tighten around his middle, and the world feels whole again.

A week after they return from the hospital, Bakugou finds a white envelope in the morning glories, the very same ones that Kirishima had insisted were trying to kill him.

To Kats it says in Kirishima’s untidy scrawl. Bakugou puts the watering can down and picks the letter up gently, opening it with trembling hands.

Dear Katsuki,

My Death Box has a bunch of letters in them. I wrote one for mom, one for mama, one for all our friends, I wrote letters to all of them.

Yours was the hardest because even after writing and rewriting it 5 times, it was always the same- all I can write to you is a love letter.

Bakugou doesn’t read the rest, just snaps his head up and looks around wildly.

‘EIJIROU, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YO-‘

‘I love you Kats.’ Kirishima is right there, standing by the balcony door, eyes wide and hopeful. He’s wearing sweatpants low on his hips, and in each hand, he holds a mug of steaming hot chocolate spiked with chilli. Mexican cocoa. Bakugou’s favourite.

He puts the mugs down on the balcony ledge. ‘I’ve loved you for so long, I don’t remember what it’s like to not be in love with you.’

‘Eijirou-‘

‘I love you.’ Kirishima steps forward and frames Bakugou’s face with his warm, calloused hands, and smiles big. ‘What about you?’

Bakugou scoffs. ‘What do you think, Shitty Hair?’

‘Gotta hear you say it, Kats.’

‘You’re a pain in my ass.’

‘I know.’

‘You’re so annoying.’

‘I agree.’

‘Your hair still sucks.’

‘Your nose twitches when you lie.’

‘And I love you so much anyway.’ Bakugou finishes and places his hands over Kirishima’s and squeezes.

‘Don’t start crying Ei.’

‘Let me feel my feelings, Kats.’

‘I’m not kissing you if you’re covered in fucking snot.’

Kirishima laughs at that, pulling Bakugou close. ‘Your nose still twitches when you lie.’

Bakugou doesn’t deign that with a response, just smirks his trademark smirk, looks at Kirishima with those bright, bright, bright eyes and kisses him stupid.

‘Again,’ Kirishima mumbles.

Bakugou does just that.

#boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha #my hero fanfic #kiribaku #bakushima #bnha kirishima #bakugou katsuki #bakusquad #ashido mina #sero hanta #kaminari denki #THANKS TO MY BEST FRIEND FOR NAMING THE FIC AND READING IT ONE BILLION TIMES #so this story is hurt/comfort and so much fluff #I LOVE KIRIBAKU SO MUCH ITS ABSURD #hope you enjoy :D

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lmaoeraserhead · 3 years

Text

pairing : stripper!Ushijima x reader

wc: 2.5k

a/n : this is based off of a random thought i had a couple of days ago. It’s so past my bed time right now, this is completely unedited and its most likely awful, but please please please enjoy!

warnings: SMUT 18+, pet names, one (1) pussy slap, mean Ushi, sex work??? idk lemme know if i missed anything please

You hear the opening of Old Town Road from the booth you and some of your closest friends rented for the night. Never in a million years had you imagined you’d be spending your night in a sketchy ass club, and you definitely hadn’t expected the country (if you could even call it that) song from the booming speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome our star performer, Ace, to the stage.” The clear voice rings loud enough to push through your hazy thoughts. Despite having tons of fun with your friends (and one too many drinks), you were tired and just about ready to call it a night.

The lights suddenly took a dive, and you were left in the dark with your vodka cranberry. Excited squeals can be heard from other people around you. The song started slowly, definitely edited, the bass making the ice cubes in your drink dance with the beat. You could feel the vibration deep in your bones, and it sent a pleasant shiver up your spine.

As slowly as the lights had plunged dark, they sure took their damn time brightening back up. Squinting from your seat, you could hardly see anything on stage through the red haze of the lights and fog machine. You didn’t know why, but the anticipation had your toes curling in your platforms. The achingly slow buildup pushed you forward in your seat and sent your legs moving to get closer to the main stage. You weaved your way through the packed crowd alone, ducking under and around stray limbs that got in your way.

The guitar of Old Town Road picks up, and it strikes you odd how sensual the usually goofy song sounds. Of course, you’re in a strip club and you should have at least expected some unconventional set lists. Your friends call out your name from the dark corner they’re sitting in, but you’re mesmerized by someone you can’t even see yet, so you don’t even turn to acknowledge their calls.

Taking a big gulp from your drink and stealing one of the few empty chairs left lining the stage, the hair on the back of your neck raises when the spotlight finally focuses on the figure that is in the center of your vision. His routine hasn’t even started, and he already has the whole club enthralled. Ace was his stage name, but you wonder what his real name could be. Although, Ace seemed to fit him well enough. He’s built like an executioner, ready to deliver the last blow.

He’s huge, well over 6 feet tall. His rippling muscle that’s somehow already sweaty and glistening, bulges with every one of his subtle movements. You can’t see his face, which is tilted down underneath a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, but you can only imagine how attractive he is from his build alone. He’s shirtless, wearing jeans, a huge rodeo buckle, and boots with spurs.

His left hand comes up to lift the brim of his white wicker hat, slowly revealing his smoldering hooded eyes. He is the center of attention, and he’s enjoying it. The hundreds of chattering mouths fall quiet as the beat picks up, along with his very anticipated dancing. His hips move with practiced ease, back and forth, stretching the taut muscles of his stomach. Your eyes find the thatch of hair below his bellybutton, and follow it’s trail, huffing under your breath with dissapointment when you end up at the heavy-looking belt buckle he’s wearing.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry, you lick your lips and take a sip of your slightly watered-down drink. Your teeth catch your bottom lip when you look back up from your lukewarm vodka to find warm chocolate eyes level with yours, among other things. Sucking in a deep breath, you watch as his body, now perpendicular to the worn wooden stage, as it grinds to the beat.

His eyes never leave yours as he dances to what is now becoming one of your favorite songs. His fist meets the ground, simultaneously paired with a thrust of his hips. He turns his head to the side, giving you a glimpse of the strong column of his neck. One particularly smooth move of his has your thighs clenching together.

Not once in your whole life had you ever thought you’d be jealous of a floor, but the way Ace was practically fucking himself against it had you squirming in your seat. The clank of his belt buckle against the hardwood had you imagining his sweaty body above yours, you could practically feel the strong build of his shoulders underneath your fingernails. You could feel the way he’d thrust into you, leaving you a whimpering mess.

Ace makes his way uprights again, slowly, teasingly. He smirks at you, and only you. His gaze is heavy and his expression sends a swooping feeling through your stomach. The song finally comes to an end, with Ace kneeling down in front of you. His thick index finger is under your jaw, closing your mouth and tilting your head up. You’re both breathless, for two completely different reasons. He places his hat on your head, bends down, and whispers in your ear, “Find me backstage.”

Before he backs away, he pulls your earlobe in between his teeth and growls lowly. Your wide eyes and stunned expression make a chuckle rumble from his bare chest. You nod slowly, because what else were you supposed to do?

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

“You liked the show, huh?” Before you could respond, you were pulled against Ace’s sweaty chest. Backstage was a mess of show runners, other performers, and wires. But somehow Ace had managed to get his own private dressing room, fully equipped with a couch, closet, and functioning shower. And you had managed to find him with the help of his hat on top of your frizzy hair.

The alcohol you had consumed earlier helped you melt into his sturdy lap, and lean into him, “I enjoyed it very much, Ace.” You contemplated for a bit, tilting your head, “Interesting song choice, though.” You couldn’t help but squirm on his jean-clad thighs as his hands trailed up and down your sides, catching on the hem of your dress.

“My name isn’t Ace, little one,” he smiled and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “It’s Ushijima.” He took his hat off of your head with little ceremony and pushed one of his thumbs past your lips. “And from the state of your sloppy pussy you’re trying so hard to grind on me, I’d say you didn’t mind the song too much,”

You suck on his thumb like a good little girl and nod frantically. Now that you think about it, you had been subconciously rubbing yourself against the hardening bulge in his pants. “M’can’t help it, i-it hurts so bad.” You slur around his thick digit, and drool drops onto your chin. His performance had turned your silk panties see-through, and you were staring to leave a dark spot on the crotch of Ushijima’s jeans.

“You’re such a messy little thing, aren’t you.” He pulls his thumb away and smears your spit into your cheek, “I bet you’d do anything to ride my cock, hmmm?” He presses your body even closer to him, his body heat deliciously warm. Being this close to him makes you realize just how enormous he actually is, another thought that leaves your thighs clenching.

Ushijima’s harsh breaths are mingling with yours, you don’t have space to think, but your body is answering every question he shoots your way, tenfold. He kisses you with the ferocity of a starved man. It’s messy, and when he pulls back, a string of saliva connects you both. His pupils are blown so wide that the hazel of his eyes can hardly be seen.

You nod your head, “Please.” Looking up through your lashes you see him hesitate for just a moment. “Please! Please Ushijima, fuck me.” You’re whining at this point, you know, but you’re so desperate.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath and swipes his sweaty hair from his forehead, “get up, little one. I want you to take off this fucking dress.” He lifts you from his lap with ease and turns you around in front of him. “You’ve been teasing me with this outfit all night. Squeezing those soft thighs together in front of everyone, like a whore.” You whimper, suddenly feeling very exposed, “What? You think I didn’t notice?” He taunts you mercilessly. You’re so wet at this point, you can feel it dripping down the inside of your thighs.

You lift the hem of your dress over your head and drop it next to you on the floor. You’ve never been extremely shy but the man in front of you makes it nearly impossible not to want to run away from his sharp gaze. The black underwear you had decided to wear for the night were nothing special, and your reluctance to wear a bra had come back to bite you in the ass. You were practically naked in front of Ushijima.

“Your panties too, little one. I can’t fuck you with those in the way, can I?” A small moan gets caught in the back of your throat as he slips his hands underneath the soft silk covering you. “And here I thought you were gonna be my good little slut.” He tsks and shakes his head disapprovingly. The muscles in his jaw work as he slips a finger through your slippery folds. “You’re… so wet.” He admonishes, still circling your cunt but never where you need him the most.

“No shit.” You roll your eyes and grip his forearm, trying and failing to get his fingers on your clit. He pulls his hand away and before you realize what’s happening, he slaps you through your underwear. The shock is enough to send you back into his lap, mewling. “F-fuck! What was that for?” You thread your fingers together behind his neck and press your bare chest against his, feeling very impatient.

Ushijima is finally at his limit, apparently, because he reaches in between your sweat-covered bodies and takes off his belt. You gulp and fumble to help him, but again, you’re stopped by his strong grasp on your wrists. “No,” he’s practically growling, “bad little sluts don’t get to touch as they please. Put your hands back where they were and don’t move.” You do as he says immediately, feeling like you’ve already tested your limits for the night. The button and zipper of his pants come undone with a quiet ‘pop’, and he licks his slightly chapped lips fighting the urge to teach you a lesson right then and there. “You better hold on, little one. I’m gonna have to fuck some manners into you.”

His cock slaps his stomach when he finally gets his pants down and Ushijima breathes a sigh of relief. You choke on the thick air of his dressing room when your eyes finally catch a glimpse of what you had been grinding on earlier. His dick is enormous, very befitting of its owner, but you were regretting your loud-ass mouth right about now. The tip is red and angry, leaking precum against his impressive abs. Ushijima’s hand can barely wrap itself around his impressive member when he strokes himself a few times before hissing out another sigh through his teeth.

“Don’t worry, baby it’ll fit.” His words did little to reassure you as he lined himself up with your slick entrance. Your position gave you some small amount of control, although you knew Ushijima had his large hands on your waist for a reason. “Take what you can, for now.” His soft eyes met yours for a moment as he rubbed circles into your back, his harsh words gone for a moment.

You lowered yourself onto his length slowly, using his shoulders as leverage. Ushijima filled you like no one had ever managed before, and when you thought you had seated yourself completely, there always seemed to be another inch. Mouth open and eyes wide, you were babbling incoherently, the delicious stretch of his cock left you drooling and dumb.

To help you, Ushijima finally gave your neglected bud the attention you had been seeking all night. The small amount of friction he allows sends you spasming around his length. Between moans and whines, Ushijima could hear curses and little cries of ‘thank you, Ushi’, he smiles, thinking it’s completely precious how quickly you managed to fuck yourself stupid.

“That’s it little one, just like that. That’s a good fucking girl. Take what you need from my cock,” He smirks and brings your face close to his own, gripping your cheeks tight, “Before I ruin every other man for you.” He kisses you on the forehead, almost condescendingly, before grappling your hips again and thrusting up into your messy cunt.

His thrusts are brutal, his sweet demeanor gone now that he’s chasing his own release, using you as nothing but his own personal fucktoy. His grunts get louder and the muscles in his defined stomach grow taught the closer he gets to his orgasm. Ushijima’s strength is impressive, it has to be with the way you’ve gone limp in his lap, shaking from the over stimulation.

“P-please cum Ushijima.” You hiccup around the syllables of his name and scratch at his upper-back. You’re jostled with every powerful thrust he gives you, too tired to meet them. All you can do is take the pleasure he gives you.

Moaning a long string of curses, Ushijima’s movements become more erratic and his cock swells impossibly further, “Where do you want my cum little one?” His teeth catch his bottom lip and he continues to hump into you frantically.

You whimper as you feel the heat in your belly starting to spread, “I-inside! Want you t-to fill me up Ushi.” The pleasure building up inside you finally snaps when you feel Ushijima’s warm cum coat your insides. He keeps thrusting into you shallowly, almost unconsciously, as you both ride out your orgasms.

After a few beats of heavy breathing and muffled club music, Ushijima clears his throat, “Hey, uh, are you alright?” His hands are rubbing soothing circles into your thighs, which are shaking horribly.

You lift your head up from his neck and blink dazedly a few times before smiling, “Never been better, big guy.” You truly are dick drunk, “But I could use some help getting to the bathroom.” You brush a few stray hairs from Ushijima’s forehead and laugh when he picks you up bridal style, carrying you like you asked.

“I can do that, little one.” He smiles back at you, “If you don’t mind can I, uh. Fuck this sounds awful.” He laughs awkwardly, “Can I get your name, maybe?”

You blink back at the man holding you naked against his chest. “It’s Y/n.” You tell him with a small smile.

#case writes ;)#haikyuu #hq ushijima #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader #hq smut #haikyuu smut #ushijima wakatoshi #please this drained me physically emotionally and sexually #SHES FINALLY HERE

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hobiwonder · 4 years

Text

Bloom | 01

Genre: Hybrid!Namkook. fluorescence by @jincherie AU

Pairing: foxhybrid!Namjoon x Reader x bunnyhybrid!Jungkook ;(

Warnings: language. mention of hybrid trafficing/being sold into sex trafficing, fluff holy shit, angst, Smut (future), very cuddly and shy jungkook, stuttery shy BOYS. I really just wrote this for me.

Words: 5k+

Summary: In a world where humanity is increasingly motivated by how much cash can be made off of... well anything, you’re a human and hybrid rights lawyer. You will do anything to save the ones that never had a choice right from the date of their conception. Even if that means, adopting two hybrids that you absolutely did not mean to.

a/n: hello hello im back from the dead iuhbIUHBUYBGUY okay so, yes this isnt baby baby but i am a bit behind on that so i really hope posting this instead can satiate my sluts for a few more days until i have that done. I have a lot of this written so I will post this on a semi-regular schedule. rest of the schedule i posted will stay the same. it’s just baby baby that’s kicking my BUTT!!!! Lastly, I started writing this before Goo Hara passed away. Opening this document made me a little sad and also happy when i remember Hara and her love for eco-friendly fashion. I guess, this is kind of a tribute to her? anyhow, I hope you guys like it. please please please, validate me. :>)

"Y/n they're going to be sold to this man who works for a black market. What do I do? Oh god. I-I didn't know our company was into that business."

Your best friend is nearing the point of tears and you can understand her frustration. "Listen, Hara, take a deep breath and tell me when exactly this is happening."

A deep breath is taken as you'd suggested, before you hear Hara's voice again through the phone. "Okay... Okay. I was just told by Minseok that there is an auction for the remaining two from the past failed batches. Apparently two others have been adopted and the rest have been pawned off somewhere. I'm not sure. From our division of the company, these two are the ones that have not gone for further testing to be open to the regular public. A-And so now there is a super secret auction happening tonight. It's not open to the regular public as you already know but staff members are able to attend. What do I do y/n? I can't afford them. I have my own to deal with. These poor boys will go to some horrible owner who will use them f-for god knows what."

Now Hara was crying. Openly and brokenly for the possible fate of these 'failed' hybrids that her company had produced. This was a sticky situation and even you, a Human and hybrid rights lawyer, had limited ideas as to what could be done on such a short notice. But you were not about to give up.

"Hara, don't. They will not be bought by some hybrid trafficker okay? I won't let it happen. I will... I will at least try. It's my job, remember?"

Your optimism is convincing enough. And you wholeheartedly believed that something would give. These big corporations had their toes in everywhere and you didn’t yet know if they had already had a designated buyer on the black market they pawned their hybrids off to. Where there was money to be made - no company had morals rigid enough to stop themselves from the temptation. You already lived in an age where human trafficking was no longer a cause for activism or big debates. Not when more species - man made or not - had been created to take advantage of.

“Okay yeah. You’re a badass lawyer, you must have something up your sleeve right?” Her voice is shaky but you confirm with an enthusiastic nod she can’t see.

“Of course! I’ll kick their asses. Surely this can’t be legal? No blackmarket is. Let me have a look at what can be done. I’m assuming you can bring a plus one tonight?”

“Yeah I-I was given a ticket. You’ll be coming with me right?”

“That’s why I asked, silly.” Her relieved chuckle brings a smile to your own lips.

“I’ll see you there. Don’t give up hope until I do, alright?”

“Okay... You’re right.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Fuck this. Fuck my life.” The curses escaped your mouth left and right as you looked over the dozens and dozens of papers splayed out on your oak desk.

Even your comfortable office chair couldn’t stop the knot building up between your shoulder blades. This was bad. Really bad. Corporate law allowed unfit materials to be sold to third parties. What these third parties did with those materials - the company of origin was no longer liable for. In short: These hybrids were going to be bought by someone sketchy with a crystal clear profile and no paper trail unless someone bid higher and bought them.

None of these bastards were rookies. They had solid paperwork where necessary and it would be near impossible to prove their illegal activities when all of them took place on the dark web. A place that opened up more threats and risks than solutions. No legislation covered hybrid rights that weren’t even registered yet. Whoever bought them would have to register them and then the hybrids would be able to receive the minimum protection they had a right to.But you can bet your father’s company that whoever bought them will never register them. Essentially these hybrids will be wiped out from the system.

Fingertips tapping against the wood, each passing minute was precious time lost. it was already 5pm. You had to leave for the dreaded auction in less than an hour and hour and yet here you sat in your chair. Hands itching to do something other than pick up the phone and tell Hara that you were at a loss. What could you do? Who would take them? You didn’t know anyone that was ready to add not one but two hybrids to their household. And ones that were not fully approved to be released. You couldn’t just lie and pawn them off to just anyone. Then you would not be any better than the company trying to get rid of them.

Sighing, you pack up the papers and documents you had initially thought would help. They were of no use anymore. All you could do was go and offer support to Hara. Or Maybe you were going because you still had hope that there would be someone who would save those hybrids. Hope was a dangerous thing for a woman like you but you had it. This was no time to wallow. So you smooth your skirt, touch up your makeup and put on your heels that had men double take.

Maybe you could scare and/or seduce these people in changing their mind?

You laugh at your absurdity, glancing in the mirror one last time before you leave with stacks of files in your hands. You could at least stall them.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Y/n! Thank god you’re here.” I’m not so sure about that. Though you opt for a gentle smile and meet her embrace enthusiastically.

You can hear the sniffles coming from Hara who has her head buried in your shoulder. “Hey, no crying okay? No matter what happens.” The comment has her pulling back just as quickly.

“What do you mean? You have a plan for tonight r-right? Y/n..”

How could you do this? Lie to her? This was not fair on her. On anyone really. It wasn’t your fault and neither hers for whatever would happen tonight. She needed to know what to expect. As much as your heart clenched and ached to say the words you were about to; it was important to mentally prepare for the worst.

“Hara... I couldn’t find anything.” Your frown is apologetic. Trying to convey how really truly sorry you were but it doesn’t stop the tears from brewing up in her eyes.

“Oh.. I thought- thought they had a chance y/n.” You reach out for her hand, wanting to alleviate her hurt as soon as possible.

“I will at least try to see who will buy them okay? Don’t worry. We can keep an eye out on who gets them. They will be alive at least, right?” Your attempt at finding a silver lining doesn’t make her look any more reassured than you felt.

Glancing at your watch, you motion towards the building. “Come on. Let’s go before they try and kick us out.”

Hara nods, numbly leading the way towards an auditorium where several people had already taken their seats. You’re not sure how many people you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t... this. There were at best 10 people here. All ten seemingly looked like they knew each other. This could only mean one thing. That this sale was to some degree, arranged. As in, multiple buyers were from the same company posing as separate customers to maximise their chances of acquiring the hybrids.

“Hara, have you seen any of these people before?” Your whisper has her craning her neck to have a good look at all of the men sitting in the front few rows.

“No, I don’t think so.” Her furrowed brows turn to you instead, “Do you recognise any of them?”

Shaking your head, you follow her down the stairs to sit in the row behind the last pair of buyers who were sitting.

“Whoever they are... they don’t look like they are all strangers.” Hara is gripping on to your arm when she hears you, visibly nervous once again. “I’m just speculating, okay?”

Your attempt to ease her, once again, is not enough. But you don’t try again since you don’t even believe your own words. The auctioneer however, stops you from thinking further about the impending events of the night. The man stands in a lab coat, glancing at his watch before he brings his mouth closer to the mic on the dice.

“Let’s begin gentleman... and ladies.” He seems to be surprised to see you and Hara sitting at the back. And before he begins further, he motions someone. Another man approaches the auctioneer and listens carefully as the other whispers. A few seconds later, his eyes fall back to where you sat with your best friend.

Hara’s grasp on your arm tightens once again when the man heads to your general direction. On instinct, your back straightens, posture more solid than before so as to not give anyone the wrong impression that they can mess with you unwarrantedly.

“Excuse me Miss.?”

“Yes?” Your curt reply surprises him but he recovers fast, glancing towards Hara before talking to you again.

“Are you a guest of Ms. Hara?”

“Obviously.” Your unwavering gaze visibly unnerves him. It was obvious to anyone there but you had an idea this was some sort of test.

“May I see your ticket please?” His bogus smile annoys you more than it should. Nonetheless, Hara is fishing out the ticket from her purse and showing the man. He inspects it longer than he should and finally walks back to the auctioneer to let him know you had the right to be here.

“Who would do that if they weren’t running a hoax?” You ask Hara before you can stop yourself.

“Alright. Apologies for the delay. We will now begin. As you are all aware, we are auctioning two of our very elite hybrids from a rare batch. They have not progressed to the next stage of screenings and tests due to some technical difficulties. Thus, we are here to give them a chance at a new home rather than a painful end.” He looks in the audience for effect. Euthanasia is what he meant.

“These hybrids are fully functional however lack a few abilities they were initially designed for. Due to these technical issues deeming them failed to proceed, they are available for purchase at a much lower cost than what they are sold for on the market.” The auctioneer looks so smug the urge to smack his across the face is almost irresistible.

“Right, bring them out Wonho.” Everyone is watching carefully, waiting for the ‘failed’ hybrids and you don’t know what you were expecting.

Not what you see though. Definitely not. Because the two - tall - hybrids entering the stage are not what you expect. Peach and silver tones greet your eyes as well as incredibly sculpted faces. The peach haired hybrid seems to cling to the silver haired one. The man leading the two hybrids seems to be frustrated with their slow pace, giving the peach haired hybrid a little shove and there is only so much you can do to not yell at the top of your lungs for him to get his hands off of them.

The man sighs, letting the two hybrids to just stand in the middle when the peach haired one does not stand apart from the other hybrid. While the shorter of the two hybrids - and much, much shyer - looks around anxiously at the people in the auditorium, the silver haired one has his features set in stone. His eyes don’t look alarmed, they don’t seem scared. He just looks numb. He stares ahead at the people sitting in front of him while the peach haired boy visibly shakes, breathing fast and eyes flitting across every surface. He takes a step back, hiding part of his body behind his silver haired companion for comfort.

“There you have them. The peach haired specimen is a Oryctolagus cuniculus or - a bunny in more simplistic terms. The silver haired specimen is an arctic fox, Vulpes lagopus. Both hybrids are off a rare species and very sought after on the market. Due to technical issues, once again, unfortunately, we are only able to sell them in a pair. They are useless on their own.”

The candid way the auctioneer speaks of them has your blood boiling. But what gets you more is the laughter that sounds in the auditorium. Did these assholes think they were funny? The hybrids - entirely human or not - were present in the room with them. Did they not have any ounce of respect for them? Hara was not faring any better. Watching with a frown as chatter continued among the buyers. The bunny looked even more disturbed, looking around at every man in the front few rows - before his eyes landed on you.

The gasp that leaves you is abrupt. His pained expression holds your gaze, eyes wide and chest heaving. The bunny jumps when the auctioneer speaks again.

“We will now start the bid at $1000. $1200 anyone?” Several hands go up before the auctioneer raises the price to $1400.

Bald, greasy men exchanging glances and crude remarks as they talk amongst themselves. Your heart is thumping, your blood thinning. With each passing second, your throat seems to be closing up. There was nothing you could do to save them, was there? The further the price went up, the more panicked and distraught the bunny looked, gripping his fox companion harder, hiding behind him even more. The silver haired fox looked much like what you had stopped Hara from looking only this morning. Hopeless. His mouth was set in a thin line - just taking in the scenario in front of him. It was obvious he saw his fate before his very eyes and instead of futilely hoping that someone would save them - he stares his aggressors in the eyes.

“Brilliant! We’re at $3000 for the gentleman in the first row. Anyone for $3500?” The said man looked positively smug, sitting with his legs spread lewdly. Most likely sure that no one would contest that price.

Definitely not you.

“$4000.” Your voice yelling above everyone else is even foreign to your own ears. An outer body experience as you watch yourself look the auctioneer straight in his eyes, daring anyone in the room to go higher up on the price. But most of all, you watch the silver haired hybrid’s gaze waver for the first time - looking at you in such surprise like it was the first time he was noticing you.

“Ah... Anyone for $4500?” Only one other hand goes up. The man that had been the prospective buyer before. His face is ballooning with the amount of blood that’s rushing to it.

“Y/n? What are you doin?!” Hara’s frantic whispering flies over your head as you call out once more.

“$6000. Final offer.” You look at the other men in the seats beneath you, challenging them to dispute your offer.

The atmosphere is tense, thick with the tension brewing inside the auditorium and yet you don’t shy away from the angry glares being shot your way. A minute passes. No more offers.

“Sold to Miss?”

“Y/n.”

“-Miss Y/n. Thank you all for participating.” The loud chatter is instantaneous as the auctioneer motions the other lab rat to, assumably, gather the hybrids and their things.

“Y/N! Oh my god.” Hara has all but engulfed you in a tight hug once more. Shaking you slightly out of your own shock. This was not what you had planned but it was done.

She finally pulls back, checking you over like you were ill. “A-Are you sure about this? Oh god, okay we need to head up to the podium.”

Just like she doesn’t wait for your answer, you had not waited for your own either. You hadn’t even asked yourself the question before you had so blindly bid on the two hybrids. You’d been waiting for someone to save them. Someone to come barging in and take them away from these cruel people. Never in a millenia had you thought that someone might be you.

“Here you are Miss. You can deposit a check right now or eftpos the payment. Up to you.”

Benumbed, you take out your phone to open the phone banking application. When you’ve made sure there are sufficient funds transferred from your savings account, you wave your card in front of the auctioneer wordlessly. From the corner of your eyes, you can feel the two hybrids watching you. You wished they had at least let them wait in some sort of waiting room and not witness the jarring experience of several people bidding over them.

“Excellent! The transaction has been approved and a receipt will be emailed to you if you can fill out this form here.” Glancing at the hybrids standing a few feet away from you, clutching a duffle bag each, you try and put down your details as fast as you can.

They had already looked like they wanted to be as farther away from this place as possible and the feeling was mutual. Hara was beside you the whole time, waiting for any cue from you to provide some sort of support or whatever you needed her to do. And if your tongue worked - you would thank her as you filled out the space on the form asking you of your email address. It was sickening how easy it was for you to just... buy them! Would they not do a security or police check on you? Make sure that these hybrids are going to at least a safe home?

You were aware of the long process of hybrids that were ordered from the company. The company had a thorough process of making sure their clients were reputable and trust-worthy. That they wouldn’t do bodily harm to the hybrids but that was a facade so these companies wouldn’t have to spend money in compensation if a client had abused their hybrid in any way and had not been satisfied with what they had ordered. It was a guise. These people didn’t give two shits if the hybrids were not of expectation and couldn’t make them money.

“Am I done here?” Your tone was curt and the auctioneer could sense it.

The fact that you’d fished out more than enough cash for some ‘failed’ hybrids - he was interested in you as a potential future client. You were aware that hybrids of their breed went for $5000 - maximum. The previous greasy bald man had been close to closing a deal for $3000 until you had butted in. So obviously, they were going to kiss your ass.

“Yes Ma’am. That’s all we needed. The hybrids are good to go. Their bags have their guidebooks with them. Thank you for shopping with us.” his bright smile makes you want to hit him with your designer bag.

But even this leather was too good to be wasted on these assholes. “Y/N? Please look a little more friendly. You’ll scare the bunny away.” Hara is speed walking besides you, trying to convince you to soften your stance when you stop right before the bench they had been sitting on.

“Follow me, boys.” You’re not rude. You don’t sound mean either. But you don’t particularly sound like you wanted them. And as much as that was the truth to some degree, you didn’t not want them.

The silver haired hybrid hesitates - watching you with wide, curious eyes. Not the harsh way his eyes had scanned the room before but not exactly friendly and enthusiastic like the bunny. The bunny that was currently tugging on the silver fox’s sleeve wordlessly. His doe eyes silently ask his friend to follow you. But when his feet stay rooted to the same spot, you can’t help but sigh.

“Is there a problem?” A moment’s silence. Then finally the silver haired boy shakes his head, grasping the bunny’s hand and follows you out of the building.

Hara is gripping your hand, relieved tears in her eyes and you can’t keep looking. Because you couldn’t promise her that you would take good care of them. “Thank you Y/n. You didn’t have to do that but... but you did. You’re a good person and these boys are lucky to have you.”

Her eyes are earnest. You know she means every word and she can sense your inner turmoil at your own ability to take care of them. The boys can’t hear you both talking since they are standing near your car, obediently waiting for you. Taking a look at them huddled in the back seat, you turn back to Hara.

“Thanks Har. I will try my best. They deserve a shot at a normal and secure life. I won’t let you down.”

“And you,” she cups your face, making you look back at her. “You deserve love too. I have seen the bunny hybrid in the lab. He will heal all your wounds too. Please be happy and patient with them, okay?”

You nod, a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but genuine nonetheless. “I’ll see you later. Love you.”

You just wave her goodbye, standing until her car pulls away. Looking back at the two boys waiting patiently in the car - you take a moment to gather yourself.

“Fuck... fuck. Fuck!” You don’t scream out loud. not really. But anyone walking by would be able to see you were stalling something. That something is going to your car and then going home.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to bite the bullet and face the reality. Getting in the driver’s seat, you look back at the two hybrids watching you from your rearview mirror. Giving them a small smile, you notice the bunny hybrid’s shoulders relax a little.

“Let’s go home.” Your voice is light and airy. Hoping to put them at ease. They were yours now.

You were their saviour.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Home sweet home.” Letting them pass you, entering the condo, you let them take in their surroundings.

The bunny is still latched on to the taller hybrid’s flannel, hiding behind him when the fox hybrid comes to stand beside a couch. Both of them look at you - as if waiting for you to allow them to sit. The silver haired fox is holding on to the bunny’s hand, watching you with a dour look.

“Go on.” You head motions towards the comfortable three seater couch. “Have a seat. No need to be shy.”

Of course, you want to palm yourself after your remark. Of course they were shy. Well, the bunny mostly. The fox looked to be very suspicious and not exactly friendly. Though you could understand his apprehension. He was about to be sold to some very nefarious people. He seemed to be a bit older than the bunny and had a look of ambiance that only came with experiencing harsh times. Your heart felt for him.

The bunny doesn’t wait too long, sitting on the couch - well plopping is more like it - whereas the fox takes his time, battling with himself if he should or not. When you keep watching him, waiting for him to sit, he thankfully gives in and sits besides his friend.

Once you can tell that they are comfortable - as comfortable as they can be, you ask your first question. “So, what are your names?”

You smile at them gently, letting them know you are their friend. At least hoping that they can conclude that from the fact that you told them about their new home on the car ride over.

The bunny’s eyes are wide, face heating up as if you asked him a rather scandalous question and not just his name. Your heart skips a beat when the lovely blush blossoms across his face that’s hiding in the fox’s shoulder.

“Well? Can you tell me, bun? What’s your name?” Your question being directed to the bunny only makes the blush more visible. You could see his face reddening further in embarrassment and the colour being rather more visible on his neck too.

The smile doesn’t diminish from your face. Not even after seeing the way the fox is almost glaring at you but you were positive that the bunny wasn’t hiding because he was afraid of you.

“J-Jungkook. ‘m J-Jungk-kook” The answer proves to be too much for him to mumble, lips catching his plumper bottom lip as he peeks at you through one eye that isn’t hidden in the fox’s shoulder.

“Jungkook. That’s a lovely name, bun.” Your smile widens when you see the corners of his mouth stirring up a little at your compliment.

Your heart was so full. Never did you think you would feel these dizzying emotions at a pretty boy merely muttering his name. His name. If this was your reaction at finding out one of their names, you were not going to survive getting to know them before you went full mother-hen mode on anyone that tried to harm them.

“What about you, hm?” Your smile is a lingering effect of just looking at Jungkook’s adorable blushing face and you don’t let it falter even if the fox hybrid is visibly more aloof.

‘Be patient with them y/n.’ You remind yourself of Hara’s words over and over.

“Namjoon.” The smile halts briefly at the deep timbre of his tone. You had not been expecting him to sound like molten chocolate and sweeter than honey. You realise you wanted to hear him more. Hear him speak about mundane topics over and over because that’s how good he sounded to you.

“Namjoon.” the name rolls off your tongue smoothly, just like his voice. You’re still watching his face, waiting for any sort of reaction even if it’s not as endearing as Jungkook’s. Just something. But his face remains passive. A slight twitch of his lips but that’s it. The pessimistic part of your brain convinces you that it could have been a frown and not a smile that he’s fought away.

But you needed to remain positive.

“T-That’s… a very nice name too.” He doesn’t look convinced at your reply though. Namjoon continues to watch you and now you’re the one blushing from the heat of his stare.

Jungkook is watching Namjoon just as cautiously as you. Like he expected him to be like that. Austere and unwilling to be forthcoming with information about himself. Telling yourself that he’ll adjust with time, you opt for a smile that’s sent Jungkook’s way - making the bunny hide behind Namjoon again. Almost like when a child is cautious and shys away from a stranger they meet. That’s what it was. A childlike innocence to Jungkook which awoke every instinct in you to protect him. Maybe that’s why his eyes had convinced you that you needed to take them home with you.

“Okay boys. I’ll show you to your rooms.” Furrowing your brows at the way Jungkook clutches Namjoon harder with panicked eyes, you turn around to look at them again.

“You don’t need to stay in separate rooms if you don’t want to, okay?” Namjoon regards you with a look before nodding - eyes cast down once again.

“Good. You both are very quiet but that’s okay - I can talk enough for the three of us.” The wink that you send Jungkook’s way only has him sputtering with embarrassment as the lovely rose tints his full round cheeks.

“But you do have to tell me when you are not okay with something, alright? I can’t read your pretty little heads.” As you say the last few words, your hand reaches out to shuffle the bunny’s peach hair.

What you don’t expect, is him flinching away so violently that even you are startled, taking a step back. Jungkook is hiding behind Namjoon completely now, shaking and you want to reach out. Say sorry and take it all back.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“Hey, kook, it’s alright. It’s okay.” Namjoon’s voice reverberates through the quiet hallway, soothing the bunny’s shaking frame, whispering gentle assurances and you’re about to choke up.

What happened to him? Who did this to him. For him to be this scared. Watching Namjoon hug the shaking bunny tightly, sniffling away in his chest, only makes you feel more guilty at your brash treatment. Were you coming on too strong? God you were so out of your depth.

“I didn’t mean to scare you Jungkook. Honey..” You’re trying your best to reach out to him but the way Namjoon stands between you and him like a wall - it’s obvious he was waiting for something like this to happen. He was cautious of you and now his beliefs have been reinforced to not trust you or whatever nonsense he’s thinking.

You couldn’t blame him though. You really couldn’t.

“Please be careful, miss. He’s not a toy.” Namjoon’s voice trembles. Just the way - you now notice - his bottom lip does. He’s holding back tears and you really don’t know what to do. Except try your best to take their pain away.

“I’m.. I’m really sorry Namjoon. I didn’t mean to upset him.” You open the door to the room quickly, making sure there are blankets and pillows on the bed before coming out to tell them.

“Take him inside Namjoon. I’ll… I’ll leave you two alone, for now. Let me know if you need anything?” Namjoon merely nods, not being able to look you in the eyes but the bite of his lip tells you he’s trying to hold it together.

Jungkook’s hiccups catch your attention and you pull yourself out of your self-pity session. Only wanting to make sure that both of the hybrids are comfortable and just not feeling the way they are right now. Gesturing your head forward again, you nod at Namjoon when he looks at you one last time before heading into the room. The bunny holds onto Namjoon tightly, letting him walk into the room and when they are fully in - you close the door behind them. Giving them their privacy and also because you had a feeling they needed to be by themselves to really understand their current situation. That you were their new owner and this was their home.

A permanent home.

#bts smut #bangtan smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #btsghostie #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook fluff #namjoon fluff #ok hopefully this works #pls provide feedback i am hongry

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insomniamamma · 3 years

Text

Liminal: Ezra and Cee

A/N: Contemporary AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's caretaker after an automobile accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Same AU as "Ferris wheels are for old people." No reader insert character, just Ezra and Cee on the road. Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog ‘s Writer’s Wednesday.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma/injury. Drug references in a song. Some language. I tried to research body powered transhumeral prosthetics to get some idea of how Ezra's prosthetic arm might work, but then I fell into an overthinking morass, any inaccuracies are mine.

"Willin'" is written by Lowell George. The version referenced in the story is recorded by Linda Ronstadt.

lim·i·nal /ˈlimənl/

adjective: liminal

1.relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process. 2.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

--"Willin'"--

"’... been warped by the rain, driven by the snow,’" Cee sings along with the music rattling through the truck's speakers, "I'm drunk and dirty, don't you know. But I'm still willin'..."

The road stretches long and straight in front of them, harsh, rust-colored land dotted with scrub under the arc of an impossibly blue sky. Ezra asked Cee to compile the playlist. You are my co-pilot for this mission, he'd told her, and as such your duties include, but are not limited to, navigator, snack supervisor and DJ. DJ? Really? Make us a playlist, Little Bird, every adventure needs some good road music. And she had really delivered. "’...Out on the road late last night, I'd see my pretty Alice in every headlight, Alice, Dallas Alice...’" Ezra'd expected hours of auto-tuned pop or loud screamy music where he couldn't understand the words, and while there was some of that, Cee had taken her duties as DJ very seriously, creating a huge genre-bending list that all worked together.

He knew a lot of it. When he was still weird Uncle Ezra and not Legal Guardian Ezra, Cee made a habit of pawing through his vinyl collection when she and Damon would visit, picking a record to play and then peppering him with questions about it. Still, some of the tracks she picked surprised him, like this one, Linda Ronstadt's version of "Willin'" a road trip anthem if there ever was one, but something he didn't expect Cee to be familiar with. On their first go through the playlist, he'd asked her, where'd you hear this one, Birdie? You remember that movie, The Abyss? It's in that movie, the director's cut though, not the theatrical cut, the theatrical cut is bullshit--and he'd just listened to her go off about all the things wrong with the theatrical cut, the movie itself he barely remembered, something about divers finding aliens underwater, he'd listened and grinned, Cee could go so quiet sometimes. It was always a relief to hear her sound alive and interested, especially after-- "’And I've been from Tucson to Tucumcari," Cee sings and Ezra joins her, "Tehachapi to Tonopah...’" Cee's voice is sweet. Ezra's voice is not, but that's never stopped him. They've got the windows down. The AC started smelling funny a couple days ago, and, in this part of the world, a breeze to evaporate the sweat is just as good as AC. Cee's hair makes a flyaway halo as they sing-- "’Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made, Driven the backroads so I wouldn't get weighed. And if you give me...’" Ezra and Cee smile at each other, suck in deep breaths for the big chorus, "’...Weed, whites and wine, and you show me a sign...And I'll be willin' to be movin'"

--Petroglyph--

The rust colored forms on pale stone walls peer out at them. Some loom large in the foreground, others recede into the background as if the weathered rock is a portal a window into some other place that lives just below the skin of the world. The back of Ezra's neck prickles. Sometimes the world is thin. Sometimes he feels as if there is a larger world moving and shifting beneath the surface of this one. Sometimes he feels like things are happening out of order, reality stripping and skipping like a loose bicycle chain-- Cee's warm hand creeps into his, "They're a little scary, aren't they?" She says. "Indeed they are," says Ezra, "One has to wonder what they were thinking. What they were trying to say. Are these gods in these pictures? Or just regular men?" "Does it matter?" Asks Cee, and he jerks his head to look at her. She is utterly entranced by the red figures and sigils. "Of course it does," he says, "You don't think so?" "I mean, it matters, I guess, but what matters more is that people made these," she says, "People like us. People with hands. Not that Ancient Aliens bullshit." Ezra laughs. Cee squeezes his hand. "C'mon," she says, "let's see more."

--Rest Stop--

"Hey MOM!," a child's voice snaps Ezra out of his reverie. Cee is in the truck stop, using the restroom and restocking their snack supply. At these stops he fuels up and then gives her some cash and sets her loose inside. And then they stretch their legs and sit outside for a spell. Ezra sits at a picnic bench letting the sun hit his closed eyelids, "MOM! That guy's got a ROBOT ARM! Like WINTER SOLDIER!" Ezra opens his eyes to a little boy, maybe four with a bunch of curly hair and big eyes, pointing at him. "Daniel!" His mother hisses, and pinches at his arm, "That's rude. I'm so sorry. Danny, what did I tell you about staring--" "Ma'am? It's quite alright, Ma'am," says Ezra, and hunkers down so he's eye level with the little boy. "Hi there," he says, "Daniel, is it? I'm Ezra." He offers his right arm, the double hook at the end open, titanium alloy padded with silicone. Daniel solemnly grips the hooks and shakes. "You've got stickers!" Says Daniel, and for a second Ezra is confused, and then he grins, looking down at the bedecked black plastic of his prosthesis. He stands. "My girl decided that I must have a sticker for every state we stop in," says Ezra, he stands and smiles at Daniel's mom, "Like an old steamer trunk. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name--" Cee steps out of the air-conditioned cavern of the truck stop, slits her eyes against the brightness of midday sun glittering up from the concrete, plastic bags full of crap-snacks and energy drinks threaded over her arms. Ezra handed her a couple twenties and told her to go nuts. Re-supply runs have turned into their own sort of game. She always grabs the usual stuff, chips and Snickers bars and Paydays (Ezra has an absolute weakness for Paydays. They don't taste like they used to, he'd griped, but that didn't stop him from eating them), but somewhere along the line, Cee decided to turn this into a battle of the wills. Her unspoken mission is to find something so utterly weird at one of these stops that Ezra won't eat it. So far, she has been unsuccessful. The closest thing was an aloe juice and cucumber drink that smelled amazing, but felt like swallowing cold snot. That one was a draw. She has high hopes for the dill pickle-sriracha gummy worms nestled in the bottom of the bag. The packaging looked like Christmas in hell. More important than the snacks is the plain, flat paper bag she holds. Ezra's near the picnic benches chattering at some lady with a kid. Menace, she thinks, but smiles. Ezra was always the extrovert before, and it's good to him smiling so big and open in the sunshine, making friends with random people at a truck stop. She sees an echo of her and him before, when she and Dad would visit when she was small and he'd tell her some outrageous tale and she'd say Uncle Ezra, you're so weird, and he'd scoop her up and swing her around, planting a prickly kiss on her cheek and saying oh, little bird, you have no idea, and this always made Dad laugh.

"Oh, Ez-ra," Cee calls, and when he turns, he sees her devilish grin, holding a small brown paper bag up beside her face like it's contraband, "Look what I found." "So I get to witness the sacred stickering?" Asks Ezra's new friend. "Indeed you do," says Ezra, "This is Cee. Cee, meet Jody, and that little man playing in the dirt there is Daniel." "Nice to meet you," says Cee, "Stick your arm out, old man." "Don't you want to document this momentous occasion?" "Oh, right," Cee pulls out her phone, "Hey, uh, miss Jody? Can you take some video? I got it all set up." "Cee is documenting our adventures for posterity," says Ezra. He extends his prosthetic, already covered in overlapping ovoids, enough that they are starting to resemble dragon scales, "What do you think?" Cee and Daniel circle round. "How bout here?" asks Daniel, tapping just above the articulated elbow. "That's a good spot," says Cee and peels the sticker from it's backing with a flourish. She smiles up at her phone recording in a stranger's hand, "We have now infiltrated the state of Nevada," she grins, "Evil-doers beware." "Yeah!" Says the little boy, pudgy hands planted on his hips for the benefit of the camera, "Or Winter Soldier will KICK YOUR ASS!" "Daniel!"

--Stars--

Cee wakes in the dead of night, disoriented, a darkness so thick that for a moment she's not sure where she is, and then she hears Ezra's rhythmic snoring off to her side, reaches out and brushes fabric of the tent and lays back, puzzled, muscles pleasantly sore from a day spent scrabbling up and down eroded granite boulders that looked like they belonged on Mars or Tatooine, walking trails and marveling at the strange ecology of the high-desert, so unlike back home. Bad dream? She wonders, probably. She feels her eyes getting heavy, feels herself lulled by Ezra's sleep sounds, snores punctuated by mumbles. Sometimes full sentences, his side of whatever dream-conversation he's having. Probably has no idea he does it-- Cee sits bolt upright, hands clutched in fists against her chest, a high-pitched wail cuts the cold night, a sound like a woman screaming, and another wail threads through the first, so loud it could be right outside the tent, and then a sound like gruesome laughter. The back of her neck prickles and her heart pounds in her throat. She tells herself that it's just some wild animal making noise, some desert bird maybe, but wasn't the California desert the last known home of the Manson family? Maybe not this desert, but still-- "Ezra," she hisses, and he mumbles something incoherent, "Ezra, wake up!" She reaches and pokes him hard, "Ezra!" "Whazzit birdie?" "Listen!" The screams rise and fall again like something from a horror movie. "s'just coyotes," says Ezra, "probly next county over. They don't hurt people, they're just loud." "You sure?" "Go back to sleep, Cee."

"Ezra," He's dreaming, some place with Joshua trees the size of skyscrapers, spiked limbs under a red sky. Cee's with him somewhere in the bloodlight but he can't see her, just hears her calling-- "Ezra!" He blinks awake, the red sky receding. Cee is shaking him. "Yuh. M'awake birdie," "I gotta pee," she says. "You know where the outhouses are, just right down the trail," "I'm not going by myself! Not with those things out there!" Ezra pushes himself up and shakes his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He can just make out Cee's form against the faint light of the sky leaking through the tent. "Alright, just gimme a second," he says. "I'll get the light," "We don't need it," he says. "Ez-" "We got night eyes now," he says, "No light pollution out here. You'll see."

Ezra stands transfixed in the chill dark, head cocked upward. The more he looks, the more he can see. More stars than he's ever seen in his life spread across the vast inverted bowl of the sky, no summer haze out here, no light-wash from streetlights. He is dizzy with it, the vast sweep of the sky, and as he stares and his eyes adjust further, he can see the arm of the Milky Way angled across the black, can actually see the dark band of dust threaded through the silver-blue light. He doesn't hear the outhouse door shutting, doesn't notice Cee beside him until she folds his hand into hers. "Look up, Little Bird," he breathes and it feels like a prayer, his heart suddenly full, squeezing in his chest, Cee small and warm next to him. "Oh, wow," she says, barely a whisper, "That's the Milky Way isn't it?" Tears blur the stars and fall hot against his cheeks. "It is." He looks at her, her face upturned, cheeks and hair frosted in star shine, limning her eyes, her smile. They've lost so much, him and Cee, but they've gained each other, and that's not nothing is it? "We're so small," says Cee, "Us. People. This whole planet. All of us. We're just a little dot." Ezra smiles in the dark, even as tears dry in his lashes. He squeezes her fingers in his. "C'mon, let's get back in the tent before we freeze."

--Hoodoo--

Cee sleeps in the passenger's seat. She'd helped break camp and pack everything up even though it was early for her. They had spent an extra night in Joshua Tree and now had to make up the difference. It's time to go home. There are things he wants to do before Cee goes back to school, things they need to take care of. So he woke them early, promising Cee that she could sleep in the car as long as she needed. She'd helped him get ready, half-peeling a couple candy bars and putting them were he could easily reach. "You want the playlist?" She asked, "I can get it going." "Not right now. I want some quiet." “'Kay," and Cee was asleep before they were to the next mile marker.

Hoodoos rise on either side of the highway, striated red cliffs against the slowly lightening sky, cut into improbable formations by long gone rivers, thin spires topped with boulders, first glints of sun hitting the higher cliffs while everything else still exists in that liminal space between day and night. Ezra glances over at Cee, hair in a messy halo, face slack in sleep, cheeks sun-reddened and newly freckled, closed eyes moving, dreaming. Ezra thinks of those first days, wracked with pain and trying to navigate the new, dark-shrowded territory of her and him, each of them crippled by loss, each willing to lash out at the other. Ezra thinks of how far they've come since then, uncurling like relaxing fists and learning to be with each other. They drive into the dawn and the first bit of light touches her hair, turning it to fire. She shifts in her sleep, turning away from that first hint of sun. He doesn't know if she's awake or not. "I love you, Cee." "Love you to, Ez," she murmurs and settles back into sleep. Ezra looks out over hoodoo country spread red tinged and stark against the rising light, the miles of road ahead. We're gonna be ok, he thinks and means it.

#writer wednesday #ezra prospect #cee prospect #contemporary AU #ezra and cee

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Maniac [Prologue]

Monologue

ーー I could not get the concept of a livestock’s pride,

out of my head.

Since I became one of them, some time had passed.

Compared to the other kids my age, I had a large frame,

and my battle skills weren’t all too shabby either,

so whenever a fight broke out,

I more often than not found myself by Boss’ side.

That day, I ended up finding out

about Boss’ secret.

Opposite to the fear I experienced at that time,

afraid of getting kicked out of the group,

Boss actually began to pay even more attention to me.

No, it was something slightly different.

Unlike before, it seemed as if Boss,

was seeking support from me.

While chowing down on the food he acquired through his secret activities,

we would talk about the most trivial things.

It was such a simple thing,

yet I came to realize that only during those times,

a pressure seemed to be lifted off Boss’ heart.

That is when I first found out.

That even Boss had a hard time,

burdening everything by himself.

It is so obvious when you think about it.

No matter how reliant or amazing of a guy he may have been,

in the end, he was still a young boy.

Boss was not much older than me,

he was still just a child after all.

However, even when I thought of him that way,

my respect for him did not falter.

If anything, knowing he still lived strong despite that,

I admired him.

ー The scene starts with a flashback in the city

*THUD*

Gang member A: Ugah...!

Bear: Ahーahー ...Can you guys not even read a calendar? Ah? I thought we decided we’d settle the score in three days?

See? As you can tell, this message was delivered from you guys’ boss to ours. He was even kind enough to attach a knife with it.

So why are you two here to try and strike while I least expect it? (1) What’s the meaning behind that, huh? You wanted to meet me that badly?

Gang member B: ...Because we have a bone to pick with you! We wanted to at least get one good hit off on you before you all get wiped out!

*Swoosh*

Bear: Wiped out, you say!?

*THUD*

Gang member B: Uguh!

Bear: You really think our whole squad would get wiped out by you little punks? Just how highly do you think of yourself?

Gang member B: ...Heh, hahaha!

Bear: Disgusting. Whatcha laughing for?

Gang member B: Nobody expects it. And that’s exactly why we aimed for those three days.

Bear: Ah...?

Gang member A: Oi, don’t say any more! Let’s go!

Gang member B: Che, guess we’ve got no other choice...!

*Rustle*

Bear: ...Hold it!

ー The other gang members run away

Bear: ...What do they mean...?

*TIMESKIP*

Lucks: ーー The day has finally come.

Once the morning dawns, we’ll go settle the score with those guys. Anyone under the age of ten remains here. You’ll be in charge of protecting the hideout until we return.

Everyone coming with me is all ready to go, right?

Comrade A: Yeah!

Comrade B: More than ever, Boss! We’ve set everything up perfectly for today.

Lucks: Don’t overdo it. Lately the military has been patrolling the city as well. They’re not the kind of guys you want to get involved with.

Bear: ...

Lucks: Oi, Bear? Are you listening?

Bear: Eh? Ah, yeah. What?

Lucks: What’s wrong with you? You look so gloomy. With you looking like that, it’ll affect the spirit of our team!

Bear: My bad...Say, Boss. Shouldn’t we think this over one more time?

Lucks: You’re still saying that? Are you that worried about what they said?

They all talk big like that, no? It’s basically a greeting at this point.

Bear: That’s true but...I have a bad feeling about this. For some reason, I feel restless...

Lucks: Hehe...Bear, you might excel in terms of your built and physique, but you’re more of a coward than I thought.

Bear: Boss! I am seriouslyーー!

*Rustle*

Lucks: Don’t worry. Nothing bad will happen.

We’ve been in plenty of fights up till now, right? However, we always came out victorious.

And if we defeat those guys today, we will finally stand at the very top of this city.

In short, we’ll have conquered the very bottom layer of this country. Do you understand what that means? It’s the first step towards our ‘dream’.

We’re not out to kill each other or anything. Well, I’m sure some blood will be spilt regardless.

We might call each other the enemy, but we’re actually also comrades living in the same place. The real threat are the rich, not them.

Despite everything, I like the kids living here. They’re headstrong, genuine and strong.

Which is why I won’t let them fight ever again once I reach the top. I’ll start by changing my own surroundings like that.

Bear: ...

Lucks: Besides, I’m here for you guys. And so are you all for me. How could we possibly lose?

Bear: ...Yeah, you’re right.

( He’s right. I’m sure this is all just my imagination. ...But you know, Boss. )

( I still have a bad feeling about this. I know that there’s just no possible way we lose, but there’s this uneasy feeling in my chest... )

( ...Please let it just be my imagination. )

Monologue

...Back then,

if only I had stopped Boss even by force,

would he have...would everyone have,

possibly survived?

In those filthy quarters, wearing dirty clothes,

but eating the same food,

as we all became adults together...

...I wonder if Boss,

would have been able to fulfill his dreams...?

ー The scene shifts to another flashback in the city

Comrade A: ...What...on earth is that...?

Comrade B: A tank...!? From the army...!?

Bear: ( ...Those bastards! They really planned to set us up after allーー!! )

Military member: An armed gang has been spotted. We can assume they are a rebellious group as stated in the information we received. Commence suppression!

Lucks: ! You guys, ruーー...!!

*BANG BANG*

Monologue

ーー We were children.

Despite calling this a fight,

somewhere inside our hearts,

we believed it to be impossible to lose our lives in just a kids’ quarrel.

I’m sure that the thought of their comrades dying, their Boss dying,

or even themselves dying,

did not even cross their minds.

Before the overwhelming force in front of us,

we were utterly powerless.

Bear: ...

...Boss...Hey...Open your eyes...

Aren’t you the one who said...I’d have to watch you till the bitter end...?

But you never told me it would be like this...! ...Damnit...!

Military member: ーー A survivor has been spotted. Kill him.

*BANG*

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the kitchen

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Ah, Yuma-kun! Geez, you’re searching the fridge again...Dinner will be served soon, you know?

Yuma: I’m hungry right now. Actin’ all high and mighty tryin’ to lecture me, huh, Sow?

Besides, it’s ‘cause ya always take forever makin’ our meals.

Yui: ( I started on it as soon as I got back from school, so rushing me any more would be... )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( Ahーah... Today he’s going for a whole package of sausages... )

Yuma: ...

...Oi.

Yui: Yes?

Yuma: Who’s that dude from the other day?

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: That NEET on the staircase.

Yui: Staircase...Aah, you mean Shuu-san? He’s the eldest son of the Sakamaki family. Sakamaki Shuu-san.

Yuma: ...Do ya think I’m dumb? (2) I obviously know that much!

Yui: T-Then why did you ask?

Yuma: This prey really doesn’t get a hint...Is yer head completely empty or somethin’, aahn!?

I’m askin’ what kinda dude the eldest son of those Sakamaki bastards is!

Yui: What kind...?

( He basically wants to know Shuu-san’s personality? Hm... )

A listless...person, I guess? To put it simply.

Yuma: Haah? That isn’t ‘simple’ at all.

Yui: But if I had to put it some other way...He always seems exhausted, for example...?

I’m pretty sure his only interests are music and sucking blood. Also napping.

Yuma: Haah...He’s an actual NEET. (3) Anyway, and that guy’s the eldest son? It pisses me off how those on top are always too lazy to do anythin’.

...No, I guess that’s exactly why he’s like that. He can get his ass on the throne just by sleepin’ after all. Whatever. What else?

Yui: There’s also...Don’t ask me about the details, but I heard he went through quite a lot in the past...

Yuma: ...The fuck? Did he almost get himself killed or somethin’?

Yui: Like I said, I’m not quite sure eithーー

*THUD*

Yui: Kyah...!

Yuma: You do know, don’t you? Ya had them wrapped ‘round yer lil’ finger with that body of yers, didn’t ya? Ah?

So don’t tell me ya don’t know their secrets.

Yui: I’ve told you before, I never...

*THUD*

Yui: ...!

Yuma: Oi...I don’t think you’re that stupid but, you’re not tryin’ to cover for those bastards, are ya?

Yui: Cover...?

Yuma: Aren’t ya hidin’ all and any information which could put them at a disadvantage from us? Aahn?

Okay...Listen up!

Right now, you are our livestock and my toy. In short, we are yer owners.

If ya dare betray us ーー I will kill ya. I’d mess ya up real good, we could actually feed ya to the pigs and cows once I’m done with ya. (4)

Yui: ...Uu...

Yuma: ...Heh. You’re just gonna stand there quietly, shiverin’ in fear again? Ya really are so borin’.

Just don’t betray us then? As long as ya can do that, I can look past minor slip-ups.

‘Course, I have a limit. If ya make too much of a fuss...

ー Yuma grabs hold of her

Yui: ...! What are you doing...!?

Yuma: I’ll teach ya while I’m at it. What kind of punishment would be waitin’ you, that is.

Well? I’m pretty sure yer body is already used to this, whether ya like it or not.

ー He bites her

Yui: ...!

Yuma: Nn...Phew...

Yui: ...Nn...!

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Ah...! )

Yuma-kun...! The pot! The stove is still on...

Yuma: Aahn? Who cares ‘bout that crap? Just keep still!

Yui: No! If it boils for too long, the noodles will become overcooked and it won’t be good...

Yuma: ...Che, pasta out of all things? I can think of at least one person who will throw a tantrum if that happens.

Yui: If you understand, let me go...!

Yuma: Won’t do. If ya want me to stop that badly, then try and stop me yerself.

Yui: No way...!

( How should I do that when he’s holding onto me with his full strength...!? )

Nn...Nn...!

Yuma: Hehe...Do ya really think ya can slip free like that? You’re basically just shiverin’.

Don’t overestimate yerself too much, ‘kay?

‘Cause you’re the one who will end up regrettin’ it in the end...

Yui: ...!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the dining room

Kou: ...What’s this...? I don’t want to eat this mushy mess!

Yui: I-I’m sorry, Kou-kun. I was going to boil a new batch, but we ran out of pasta...

( I got yelled at as to be expected... )

Kou: Then please give me a reward instead.

Let’s see...Fufu, I’ll forgive you if you let me suck your blood, okay? Say, what do you think?

Yui: W-What I think...?

*Thud*

Yuma: If ya continue spoutin’ that bullshit, you’ll be takin’ one hefty blow ‘gainst that face you’re so damn proud of!

Ruki: Yuma. We’re in the middle of our meal.

Azusa: Don’t worry, the pasta is safe...Hey, Yuma...You can hit me instead if you’d like?

Yuma: Ya stupid!?

Kou: Geez~ What are you getting so upset for? I was just messing around a little. Joking is what we idols do! (6)

Yuma: Do you see me laughin’!? As her caretaker, I’m obviously the one who has to blame her whenever she messes up! Don’t try and take my job!

Yui: ( Actually, it’s Yuma-kun’s fault the pasta overcooked in the first place... )

( Speaking of which, I wonder why Yuma-kun asked about Shuu-san earlier? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Yuma uses the word 寝込み or ‘nekomi’ which literally implies that they tried to attack him ‘in his sleep’. However, I think this is meant to be taken less literal in this case, but refers to the fact that they were expecting an attack in 3 days, so they could have been caught off guard.

(2) Literally he says ‘are you looking down on me/are you underestimating me?’ but ‘do you think I’m dumb’ sounded better in this context.

(3) A NEET stands for a person who isn’t in education or training, implying that they don’t work but aren’t currently in school either. They have a very bad reputation for being ‘lazy’, simply wasting their life away at home, sitting at the computer, watching TV, etc.

(4) Yuma says he would mess her up so badly, she could actually become ‘food for livestock’ by the end of it.

(5) In Japanese, the expression for overcooking noodles in Japanese is ‘麺が伸びる’ or ‘men ga nobiru’ which literally means ‘the noodles will stretch’, referring to them being too plump/soft because they cooked for too long.

(6) Kou calls it an アイドルジョーク or ‘Idol joke’ which isn’t a term I’m actually familiar with. I do know that idols in Japan appear on TV quite often and a lot of those programs are geared towards comedy, so I assume having a decent sense of humor is a must if you want to be a Japanese idol. xD

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<- [ Dark Epilogue ] [ Maniac 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbyumamaniacprolog

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tosikoarts · 4 years

Text

SFW Alphabet | Tsukishima Hajime

Here he comes, my favorite boy. You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Showing affection is something Tsukishima forgot how to do. It is almost foreign to him after what happened with Igogusa, after years of war and service under the leadership of Tsurumi. He knows exactly how easily happiness can be acquired and how easily it can be taken away, by unknown forces and by someone close to him.

An obvious sign of interest would be gratuitous help that Tsukishima offers to the person. When everything falls out of hand, he is right there to catch. Tsukishima does little errands in between taking care of Koito’s whims and bigger ones he saves for later to look at them closer. He genuinely enjoys helping them and seeing how grateful smile lights up their face.

Another one would be small gestures like walking them home after dark or bringing unpretentious little thingies that made Tsukishima think of them. If he goes to the market and notices their favorite candy, he will surely buy it. At times, it gets more serious. For example, if they wanted nice new shoes, Tsukishima will save money up from his sergeant's salary to afford the best pair in the shop.

Letters. So many letters. A soldier's life presents a gift in the form of partings, and in order to somehow compensate frequent goodbyes and innumerable kilometers between them, Tsukishima puts his heart and soul into letters. They may not be that frequent, and he keeps crossing out words that seem too sweet, but it is the very intimate way to maintain the precious bond.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Local mom-friend that takes care of you when you are suffering the worst hangover and saves your ass from last night’s consequences. Tsukishima puts all the effort to shield his best friend from problems, and if they are inevitable, he has a clear plan of actions how to fix unfixable and repair unrepairable.

Responsibility is another of his distinctive features. When it comes to school or work, he is second to none: Tsukishima is up to help with difficult tasks or take on the role of mentor. He is amazingly good teacher, albeit strict at times, that has the ability to explain the most confusing concepts better than that Indian guy on YouTube.

Is it worth mentioning that he is a devoted friend? It doesn’t matter what happened between him and his friend in the past, Tsukishima always comes back to them. No distance, no time, no other people are able to make him turn around and leave a friend to the mercy of fate.

Probably the friend you think you know well but suddenly it turns out he has more dark secrets than the most deranged madlad from your fried group. Also, you can’t judge him. Only accept. You know if Tsukishima had to do somthing, he had his reasons you are not allowed to question.

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

Yeah, of course, but he hasn’t cuddled anyone in years (young whining Koito that craves reassurance and family warmth doesn’t count) so it may be awkward. It is very likely that he will simply move over, apologize, and wait for the next time when he is more comfortable with all of love dumped on him. Tsukishima doesn’t care about positions and will adapt to the partner’s desires whether they want to spoon him or be kept on his lap. Cuddles are combined with back rubs, massages, head pats, even hair brushing and braiding if they are not afraid of tangles.

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

Both wants to and is afraid of settling down by himself, left alone with his loved one. Over the years spent in the army, he lost the sense of life’s fullness, and now Tsukishima drifts freely without a specific direction. Military is where he belongs to, it gives him purpose and reason to exist, and as time passed, he forgot how to live outside the barracks. Gentle persuasion would be the best option to assure Tsukishima in his ability of living normal life. Maybe, owning a small house overlooking rocky shore and sparkling ocean isn’t a bad idea, he just isn’t ready to accept it. Both great in cooking and cleaning, prefers to do the latter.

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

He is visibly uncomfortable when confronted about working late and postponing previously such long-awaited dates. Tsukishima is lost for words since he can find none that could describe how sorry he is. Inner guilt forced him to defer this moment until the last minute: breaking-up right before another trip (the further the better) will make it impossible to crawl back to them when loneliness overtakes him again. Overthinks a lot. Nevertheless, Tsukishima finally speaks out in an even calm voice, as if he is reporting to his superiors, apologizes, and bows low. So low that chances of meeting their surprised gaze drop to zero. He quickly retreats without giving them the opportunity to say anything in return. Drinks more than usual during the trip, makes Koito nervous with unfriendly passive-aggressive aura he carries for weeks.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

This is the part where Rick Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up starts playing because this is the man who fits all of the chorus lines perfectly. Tsukishima grows attached to the loved one fast and after this he is physically unable to think romantically of anyone else. Igogusa’s memory is another proof of his deep, borderline painful commitment. One year or year and a half is enough time for Tsukishima to start looking at municipal government office with certain interest. He takes marriage very seriously though, he dates for it, not for entertainment.

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

He is what a soldier is trained to be (so not so gentle in physical plane) but you don’t have to dig deep to see Tsukishima’s hidden soft core. In everyday life, he's an absolute sweetheart. All he really wants in a relationship is to love and be loved, that’s all. Tsukishima doesn't even have a lurking desire, intrusive thoughts of messing with the feelings unlike some individuals. Soft, soft, soft, and he doesn’t deny it.

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

It feels like a child’s hug: tight and unhesitant, with his hands wrapped around person’s waist and face buried in their neck. Light blush covers Tsukishima’s cheeks and he can’t stop smiling. If his partner is smaller than he is, Tsukishima will pick them up, and if they are taller he will try to hug them as if to almost hide in their arms. Picking him up will result in embarrassed exclamations but Tsukishima actually enjoys their attention.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

One year is the limit. Less time than 6 months feels a little bit rushed to him and more than one year seems like an unnecessary delay. Tsukishima is expectedly sincere in his confession; he doesn’t hold back and wriggle because of how confident he is in his feelings. It is not a long rehearsed monologue but a stream of consciousness, full of confessions how he likes their shining eyes, how their clumsiness makes his day a little brighter, how their whole character amazes him from day to day. The only thing that can possibly overwhelm Tsukishima is the overthinking of their possible negative reaction. One of his biggest fears is to appear too persistent with the confession and scare them away so he puts a lot of thought in choosing the right time and the right place.

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

Obviously expects his partner to reject any cheeky suitor since he understands that their natural beauty is hard to resist. If they choose to accept stranger’s attentions, Tsukishima feels insulted and betrayed. Trust is a key factor in the relationship so such irresponsible attitude towards the loyalty huts him deeply and rises suspicion of oncoming break-up. Also, being in limbo and asking himself whether they want to be with him or not takes a toll on Tsukishima’s psyche. He becomes more withdrawn and taciturn and spends more time busy at work with trying to distract himself from intrusive thoughts.

If his partner decides to go around and flirt, Tsukishima will be overtaken with anger. He is furious. The glass in his hand sonorously cracks under the pressure while he watches them ungodly teasing unsuspecting men. He doesn’t start a fight or scream at his loved one and keeps everything inside. It is enough for him to witness such behavior two times to leave them without long explanations and quarrels.

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

A bit inept and greedy. Tsukishima tends to defer the kiss until his partner is ready to nicely ask him for one but after that he is completely in for a ride. The last time he kissed anyone is unknown-how-many-years-ago so it is natural for Tsukishima to be a little bit sloppy and eager. Lip kisses are golden classic and fits his character perfectly. It takes a good push to shift things in more intimate direction though. The most efficient way to do it is to play on Tsukishima's weaknesses: the back of his neck as well as earlobes and straight line down the spine. A few gentle touches and hardened composed soldier melts down like an ice on the sun.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

If you want to calm down a crying baby just give it to Tsukishima. It seems like kids feel sympathy when looking at his tired face and try to cause little trouble so as not to disappoint him even more. Smart children clearly amuse him, and Tsukishima strongly encourages their desire for knowledge, their curiosity and ambitions. Every now and then sudden thoughts about starting his own family pop up in his head but Tsukishima is kind of indecisive. Right now he is not ready to take on such responsibility, but in the future, dream of starting a big family could become a reality.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It is impossible to catch Tsukishima in the morning during work week and it still isn’t that easy on the weekend. Insomnia keeps him up at nights so his day can start a long before his partner opens their eyes. On such nights, he goes for a lonely walk around the block and, on his return, prepares a light breakfast for two. There are also rare moments when Tsukishima falls asleep right before first sunbeam reaches earth. Those are the days when he sleeps in and refuses to get up from the bed, trapping his loved one in tight cuddle. Nuzzling into their neck, Tsukishima mutters that he needs five more minutes and he will definitely let go but five minutes turn into half of hour, then hour, and he never fulfills the promise.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

A great lover of a quiet pastime he is, Tsukishima likes to spend evenings playing intellectual games like shogi and reading whatever comes to hand. One of his favorite activities is resting his head on the partner’s knees and listening to them reading aloud haikus or other classic Japanese works. On warm summer nights, Tsukishima likes to go to the river or lake for skinny dipping since most onsens are separated by gender. Even if there is one that is not, he would still prefer more secluded place where there is no reason to worry about onlookers. If his partner wants to something more active and social, they will have to choose something not too overwhelming. Small friend gatherings are okay but huge parties drain the rest of the life from him.

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?)

Here is the thing: to pull personal information out of Tsukishima you have to know what to ask. You can’t say “Tell me how you got into army” and expect a little frank story, no. It would take a whole “It seems you and Lieutenant Tsurumi share some story” or something even more shifty to make him open up about this topic. It doesn’t mean that he is trying to hide something on purpose, but it definitely means he never had anyone to trust. Any claims that he is too secretive offend Tsukishima too.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Utter unshakable calmness in the middle of 7th Division craziness, either way because he has seen too much shit already or because he has no active neurons to react to it (insomnia, your know?). As a person who puts up with brain-juice leaking leader, spoiled naive brat in the dawn of youthful maximalism, mentally unstable fan boy, and mutilated lack-all on the verge of breakdown, he won’t even pay attention to small inconveniences. In quarrels, Tsukishima always appeals to rationality and perfectly avoids any escalation of the conflict. You have to ruin his life for him to snap, and when he does, someone’s neck will snap too.

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?)

Pays attention to them whenever around but forgets most of the stuff easily. Tsukishima only remembers one or two specific details that he can use practically in the future, like what their allergies are or what they want for the birthday. For the rest he has a small personal page in the notebook where he writes down little things that definitely will not stay in his memory for a long time. His writing comes in the code of abbreviations and numbers to make sure nobody pries into his personal life.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Used to be the one responsible in the group, he would probably remember moments where he was the one that had to be cared for. For once Tsukishima came down with a high fever and unbearable weakness, and it was a moment when his loved one jumped into merciless care-mode. He was put into bed with three pillows, teacup waiting for him on the nightstand, and even the most determined statements that he needed to finish some things have been met with indisputable refusal. They spun around him bringing medicine, food, and water whole day so Tsukishima couldn’t stop blaming himself for the helplessness. At the same time, his feelings of gratitude and love intensified with every thoughtful gesture so by the end of unfortunate leave Tsukishima almost regretted returning to his usual hectic life.

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

Previous experiences with both romantic relationship and role of sergeant-nanny taught Tsukishima one thing: danger is always there, even if it is not visible to the naked eye. A passerby can hide a loaded gun under his clothes, so there is not point to talk about hired killers, invisible diseases, natural disasters etc. Based on the above it is natural for Tsukishima be on the alert. He wants to know where his partner is going and with whom, warns them about his gut feeling if he has one, and, of course, intervenes at the sight of real danger without any second thought. Like this man would give up his life for a person who deserves it. Not at any point in time, Tsukishima expects his partner to protect him but if it happens, he will be extremely mad at them and himself too.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tsukishima has a low social battery for the most of the time so he has to manage energy according to importance of the affairs. There is always a little bit more saved for his loved one, but you can’t really tell that he puts all of the effort into relationship. If work affairs did not suck the remnants of happiness from him, Tsukishima may stop and get a nice box of sweets or fruits. For special dates like their Birthday or anniversary, he saves money for a worthwhile present: for a female lover he would probably go for a beautiful silk tenga obi with celebratory motives or handmade jewelry box, and for male lover he would choose chopsticks with personalized engraving or exquisite lacquerware. Performs household chores well, although sometimes he has to be reminded about their existence.

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

Although Tsukishima is a stronghold of common sense, - he always keeps everything to himself, puts on a poker face, - once person gets on his nerves, they will see the worst side of him. Thanks to the famous reliability, Tsukishima learns where person’s weak spots are fast and he can easily hit them where it hurts with bold spiteful words.

Puts work over relationships. Setting to serve the homeland faithfully and unquestioningly rooted deep in his mind and now it is impossible to re-educate this shabby sergeant. Even in serious relationship, Tsukishima remembers about his duty as a soldier and as a son of Japan so he takes a lot of additional paperwork home.

As someone who used to be ordered around, Tsukishima still needs a guidance in the relationship. It takes a lot of thinking and weighing the pros and cons for him to make a decision but the partner’s opinion will be crucial nevertheless. In critical situations, he is perfectly oriented, but in a steady life? Not so much.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Cares enough to wash, dry, and iron his own uniform and brush up muddy toecaps of own boots. Tsukishima tries to blend in with surrounding, not to pop up, so he keeps his style in muted neutral colors (that applies to both clothes and shoes) and prefers strict uniform to anything else. In his view, moderation is the sister of style so the only thing that can make him pull off fancy apparel would be direct order from the First Lieutenant Tsurumi. Indifferent to how people perceive his physical appearance as well.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If his partner decides it is a time to part the ways, he acts maturely, thanks them for the great moments that they shared and everything they achieved together. Even though Tsukishima is hurting, he keeps bitter reproaches to himself, knowing that lashing out won’t do anything good. It is not his style anyway. Few weeks need to pass by before the hurricane of emotions settles down and their image ceases to be associated with a romantic relationship. Instead, Tsukishima faces them again with a proposal to start everything from scratch. Leave everything behind and become friends. Just friends. No hard feelings. Honestly, being close to them is everything he asks for. If they decline, Tsukishima won’t bother them again, but if they agree, he won’t ever leave their side.

Their death is a punch to the gut. It is like Igogusa’s disappearing all over again, but more painful, more deliberate, more distinct. To say that he is heartbroken is to say nothing at all: division soldiers notice how gloomy their sergeant has become, they feel uneasy under his sharp look. It feels like one wrong word and he will snap. Now Tsukishima’s nihilism turns into total indifference to existence: he puts himself in danger just to see how long he can last.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Another one who has a great singing voice. He never ever sings in barracks or anywhere near his comrades but Tsukishima’s voice is charming: he has a sweet soothing bass-baritone that sounds the best in lullabies or ballads. Even though his partner may never hear a proper serenade, they may catch him quietly singing to their child instead of reading old fairytales.

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

Tsukishima can tolerate A LOT and turns blind eye to person’s bad habits for the sake of avoiding unnecessary stress. Therefore, there isn’t much that irritates him and even less that can drive him on the walls.

Grubbiness is one of the habits that Tsukishima cannot ignore. Clothes scattered around the room, unwashed dishes, and heaps of unnecessary junk get on his nerves but he keeps composure and never complains.

Loud noises, including chewing, smacking, munching, are annoying too but Koito’s constant monkey screeching desensitized him to the degree when Tsukishima takes a deep breath, prays to gods not to go apeshit, and goes on with his day.

Oh, he also hates summer. Hot temperatures force Tsukishima to soak in the bath three times more often than in winter or any other season.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Those bags under his eyes are Gucci Yoshida. Well, okay, Yoshida was established a little bit later but this is not so important. Tsukishima suffers from insomnia for who knows how long, and no doctor can help him. On sleepless nights, he just sits by the window and reads in the faint candlelight, still cherishing the hope of falling asleep in the morning. After moving in with his loved one, nothing really changed beside Tsukishima changing his habitual reading spot from armchair by the window to a more secluded place in another room. He doesn’t want to wake them up by accident.

In general, Tsukishima sleeps around 3-5 hours per day with occasional awakenings during the night. His sleep is shallow and filled with disturbing dreams in which shapeless shadows haunt him, driving him south of Mukden, where many of the Japanese brethren found eternal peace.

#golden kamuy #golden kamuy headcanon #golden kamuy imagine #hajime tsukishima #tsukishima hajime #tosikowrites

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

Text

Klaine Advent Drabble 2020 - “Wanky” (NC17)

Summary: An unfortunate find in a secret drawer leads poor Tracy to believe that she's getting a dog for Christmas, and leaves Kurt stuck between a rock and a hard place: does he stick to his guns, or does he traumatize his sweet, innocent daughter for life? (1918 words)

Notes: Written for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'learn'.

Read on AO3.

“Hey, guys!" Kurt sings from the front door, brushing snow off the shoulders of his coat before he crosses the threshold. "We’re back!”

"Sorry we took so long," Blaine says, "but we had a heck of a time finding ..."

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” Tracy squeals, leaping into Blaine’s arms the second he comes to a stop in their living room. "Both of you! Thank you so much!"

“Thank us?” He wraps his daughter in a bear hug, confused as all get out but in no way stupid enough to turn down a hug. “Thank us for what? Kurt?”

Kurt shrugs, making a don’t know noise as he sheds his coat and hangs it, returning quickly for a turn in the hug rotation. "Brittany? Santana?" He looks expectantly at the ladies who have been watching their daughter all afternoon. "Do you know what's going on?"

Brittany, hands behind her back, shifts her weight anxiously from foot to foot, while Santana, arms crossed over her chest, looks nearly gleeful. It’s Santana's glee more than Brittany’s anxiety that makes Kurt’s back start to sweat.

“It seems Tracy here was poking around in your naughty bits and found herself a little treat.”

Kurt and Blaine shoot her confused looks, though Kurt’s leans more towards annoyed.

“Can you be any less vague?” Kurt asks.

Santana grins. “No.”

Brittany carefully enters the conversation. “Tracy may have accidentally figured out what you guys are getting her for Christmas.”

"And what are we getting her for Christmas?" Blaine asks.

Brittany swallows hard. "A ... a dog."

Tracy dislodges herself from Blaine's torso and latches on to Kurt’s.

"What?" Kurt says, dumbfounded.

“Didn’t we specifically say no to a dog?” Blaine whispers.

Kurt hugs his daughter tight, stealthily covering her ears with his hand. “We did."

"So how did she come to that conclusion?”

“She found this.” A guilty smile flickers across Brittany’s lips as she brings a hand out from behind her back and shows Kurt something that makes his face turn paper white. He doesn't have to look at his husband to know that Blaine is wearing the same dropped-jaw, mushroom pale expression of horror that he is.

Brittany is handing him a black leather collar with a row of rhinestones across the front.

When Kurt comes to his senses, he reaches for the collar, eager to tuck it out of sight.

Mortifyingly, Tracy intercepts it.

She eyes it reverently. But then she sighs, her expression slipping from overjoyed smile to apologetic frown.

“I’m sorry I snooped in your special drawer.”

“Didn’t we make it perfectly clear that drawer is off-limits?” Blaine asks, crouching to talk to her.

“You did.” Tracy hugs the collar to her chest, afraid the dog she has wanted for so long might be slipping away from her.

“Then why did you look in there?”

“It seems a little birdie told her it’s only off-limits because that's where you hide her presents,” Santana explains, maneuvering her shrinking wife behind the protection of her body. “Poor, impatient Tracy couldn’t resist.”

Kurt glares over Santana’s shoulder at Brittany, who completely disappears behind her wife.

Blaine stands, ruffles his daughter’s hair, then takes his husband by the elbow and gives him a tug in the direction of the kitchen. “Excuse us, Peanut. I need to talk to your Papa alone for a minute.”

“Ok, Daddy.” Tracy releases Kurt and walks glumly towards Santana, sighing significantly as she slips into her arms, still hugging that collar to her chest.

That’s the scene that kills Kurt.

Tracy hugging that collar.

The collar he wears on his and Blaine’s "special" nights out.

The kind where they pretend they don’t know one another, and they flirt in a bar like strangers. Blaine picks him up with a proposition, money exchanges hands, and they spend all night in a room at a no-tell motel with Blaine riding him, pulling his hair hard, calling him his "good little bitch".

Yup. His nine-year-old daughter is hugging that collar.

“Oh my God!” Blaine says the second they're behind closed doors, a hint of amusement in his tone that gives Kurt an urge to flick him on the forehead. “What do we do? What do we do?”

“I hope we’re agreed that she doesn’t deserve a thing if she’s invading our privacy!”

“Yeah … well … hmmm …” Blaine waffles.

Kurt’s eyes go wide. “Blaine!”

“To be honest, Kurt, I don’t know what you have against the family having a dog. Tracy has wanted one forever. It would be a good companion for her. Besides …” He looks down at his hands, twiddles his thumbs “… I … kinda … want one.”

“That’s great!” Kurt snaps, frustrated since he thought they were a unified front on this issue. “But tell me this - who’s going to take care of it? Huh? Who's going to feed it and walk it and clean up after it when it vomits on the floor at three in the morning? I’ll tell you exactly who’s going to do all of that! I will!”

“We can teach her to be responsible! She’s at that age!”

“This isn’t the way things like this are supposed to work! If she wants a dog, she needs to earn it! Not commit a misdemeanor! That proves she’s not mature enough! And if we give in, we'll be perpetuating that behavior!”

“Technically, it’s not her fault. You heard what Santana said.”

“Yeah, well, that only proves someone else is culpable. It doesn’t change the fact that Tracy broke the rules. In fact, if she thought her Christmas presents were in that drawer, that makes things worse!”

“This one indiscretion aside, she deserves a dog! She’s a straight-A student. She keeps her room clean without being told. She helps out with dinner, the laundry, the dusting. And let’s face it, between your trophies, my trophies, and all the other knick-knacks in this house, she deserves a dog for that alone!”

“I am not going to make this decision on the spur of the moment! We need to talk about boundaries, hash out rules!”

“Fair enough."

“Which we will do after the holidays!”

“And what do we do until then?” Blaine asks, his eyes brimming with the same disappointment Tracy’s had. He'd started getting excited when he thought Kurt might cave. Now Kurt's pulling a "we'll see". “She already found the collar. How are you going to explain owning that if we aren’t getting her a dog for Christmas? Which is in about a week, by the way.”

“We’ll be honest with her,” Kurt decides. “We’ll explain, in age-appropriate terms, why we have that collar.”

Blaine jerks back, the fringes of a chuckle tickling his throat. “So … she’s mature enough to know about your collar kink, but not old enough to own a dog?”

“I’ll … cross that bridge when I get to it, all right?” Kurt mumbles, his face turning bright red. "But for now, that's my final decision! End of discussion! Take it or leave it!"

Kurt turns on his heel and heads for the living room. He will not be manipulated into giving in, even if this whole thing did start with a misunderstanding.

He opens the door and spots Tracy rocking in Blaine’s recliner, looking at pictures on Brittany’s phone, while Brittany and Santana sit beside her, making encouraging comments.

Tracy, still hugging that Godforsaken collar, looks like she’s been crying.

Brittany looks positively devastated, as if she didn’t just ruin Tracy’s chance for happiness, but helped her get the dog of her dreams, then ran it over with her car.

Santana leads the conversation, which Kurt assumes is about clothes - one of Tracy’s favorite things to window shop. But as Kurt walks closer, he catches a peek at the screen, and his heart deflates. During his and Blaine’s conversation, Tracy had started a Pinterest board titled ‘My Favorite Dogs in the World’. Brittany and Santana are helping her add to it – teacup poodles, Pomeranians, Chihuahuas, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel ...

'That one's cute,' Kurt thinks when he spots the silky thing. 'That fur would be fun to style. We could do it together! A bright pink bow, maybe a sparkly barrette ...'

The sparkly barrette brings his mind back to his collar, and he gives himself a hard, mental shake.

'No. Don't waver. Stay the course.'

He approaches his daughter slowly, preparing himself for the worst conversation of his life so far.

Kurt swallows hard. “Tracy?”

Tracy looks up at him with watery eyes. “Yes, Papa?”

Her bottom lip wobbles.

Ugh! This is going to be impossible!

“There’s something I need to explain to you … about that collar.”

“Yes?”

Kurt crouches down in front of Tracy, meeting her eye to eye. “You see, sometimes when you buy a collar, it’s for a dog.”

“A-ha …” Tracy says, hopeful ... and mildly confused.

“And sometimes, two people … two grown adults who don’t own a dog ... might buy a collar to …”

Brittany and Santana both gasp when they realize what he’s doing.

Brittany stares like a deer in headlights.

Santana, on the verge of a laughing fit, gets up and leaves the room.

“Yes, Papa?”

“Well, they might buy a collar because …”

“Because …”

"Because ..." Kurt looks at Tracy, silently wishing she'd catch on without him having to say another word. Not catch on to what they use the collar for, but catch on to the fact that no, they will not be getting a dog right now. He looks into her huge, brown eyes, so much like Blaine’s, her hopeful expression dimming with every second of this asinine explanation.

Is he really going to do this?

Is he really going to tell his beloved daughter that she's not getting a dog because that collar she found is one of her fathers’ favorite sex toys? That the last time they used it, Kurt was wearing it, and Blaine was riding him like a bronco, growling obscenities and smacking his ass?

No! He can’t do that!

What responsible parent would!?

When Kurt first found out he was going to be a father, his own father gave him some valuable life advice.

“When you become a parent, you sort of fool yourself into believing that you’re in charge. You're the teacher," his dad had said. "But in reality, parenting will put you on your ass over and over until you realize you know nothing. But you learn. And one of the most important lessons you’ll ever learn is to pick your battles. Because situations will come up that you’ll never dream of, things that you hope to never handle. But, in the end, when you’re debating right and wrong, you have to decide – are you doing what’s best for your child? Or what’s best for you? Because, surprisingly, the two aren’t always the same.”

In short, Kurt has to choose between psychological trauma, pet dog, or sticking to a rule that's rigid simply because bending it would hurt his ego.

When he thinks of it in those terms, the answer is simple.

His father, as always, is right - mostly.

The most important lesson Kurt will learn from this particular situation is that he needs to get a lock on that damned drawer!

Because watching their new pet tromp through the house wearing that collar is going to burn his eyes every day of his life until he dies.

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: learn #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #klaine

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spidercakes · 5 years

Note

Teacher tony and student peter. Peter’s flirting not so subtly and tony ignores it until peter shows up in a short skirt and he can’t take it anymore.

Yes!

All the warnings that are applicable to this are sort of implied by the prompt itself though no actual smut happens, its just implied. I may or may not write a part two with the actual smut!

Peter fucking Parker. Its not that Tony doesn’t like the kid, or that he’s not bright, or that he’s not stupid attractive considering he’s supposed to be an awkward teenager, its that Tony is his teacher and this kid has been making it increasingly difficult to ignore him. And its not like its Peter’s fault, so he’s got a crush on his teacher. He’s not the first but its Tony’s responsibility to not make a move. Not that he doesn’t want to, god he wants to with the kid sitting there in that fucking stupid short skirt of his that can’t possibly fit the school dress code.

He’s got his legs crossed and with one leg tucked over the other even more of his god damn leg is exposed and he’s insisted on putting his hand on his thigh, lightly running his fingers along it. Fuck, he’d like to run his fingers up Peter’s soft looking thighs, pushing that skirt up just a little further as Peter rides him, hands curled around his neck as he whimpers into Tony’s ear. He’d fuck him soft and slow, testing Peter’s patience as he gets more desperate and his fingers curl tighter into Tony’s hair while fucking begs for it in Tony’s ear.

He shakes his head a little, banishing the thoughts because Peter is his student and even if he wasn’t he’s still seventeen. Almost eighteen, Tony’s mind supplies him like reaching that age will somehow magically make him less off limits. Like he’ll suddenly grow an amount of maturity in the next two months that will make their relationship even remotely okay. It wouldn’t and he shouldn’t think of Peter this way at all. Or any other teen, not that he’s ever had this problem before. Sure kids these days are weirdly smart and politically aware with the side of the usual teenage dumbassery but attraction to them is something Tony has never had an issue with.

Then Peter fucking Parker came along and he has to look like that. Especially in that god damn skirt of his. And its red too, the shade Tony likes best and he figures Peter probably figured out that his favorite color is red. Not exactly hard when its one of the only colors he wears. Peter tends to prefer that soft shade of pink so Tony is sure this is on purpose. He’s never even seen Peter wear red before.

He turns resolutely away from him to look over the tests from the last class and he swears to fucking god the first one he picks up has got to be from the dumbest student in the class. He loves science, always has, and he gets that none of the students will be as good at it as him but fuck, on a multiple choice question he doesn’t expect the students to pick the only answer that’s obviously wrong either. He sighs and continues through the test, sure that the student picked the answer because he thought it was funny or something but it becomes clear pretty fast that the poor bastard took ‘if you don’t know go with c’ a little too close to heart.

The students in this class slowly trickle out, leaving their tests with him and he hopes they aren’t as fucking dumb as his last class. He should have taught art and history like Rogers, no chance of watching what he loves get butchered and art is impossible to fail. If people can paint a single black dot on a big ass canvas and call it art its not possible to fail the damn class. Science? You’re pretty much either right or wrong. He should have taught university level, at least he could trust that they’d know the basics well enough that he could be angry that they’re so dumb. In high school the problem is his teaching, apparently. Except the football players, they’re fucking hopeless regardless of the teacher.

It surprises him when Peter ends up there for the whole time period because he’s smart, far smarter than his peers and Tony knows he dumbs himself down in class. He knows too much about the concepts in ways that aren’t applicable to high school learning to not be dumbing himself down, so it usually results in him being done any and all tests first. So when he comes up to him with his test looking a little sheepish Tony knows something is up. Peter bites his lip and Tony’s attempts to have gotten the damn kid out of his head get thrown out the window instantly. Should have chosen something harder to focus on than science, that’s more than easy to him. Should have tried to figure out what the fuck the english department is doing.

“Um... I didn’t get the test done. Can I come back after school to finish it?” he asks.

Tony should say no, he would to any other student who asked. He goes to tell him no but that’s not what comes out. “Sure, Peter,” he says, ignoring the awkward pause between his words because his first instinct is to call Peter ‘baby’ and that’s fucking ridiculous. And wildly inappropriate.

Peter looks enthused as he drops his test on Tony’s desk. “Thanks, Mr. Stark!” he says happily, flouncing off towards the door.

“Can I do that?” someone else asks and Tony looks the kid over.

“No.”

“The fuck, how come Parker gets to come back?” he asks and Tony rolls his eyes.

“Because ‘Parker’ doesn’t regularly skip my class to go get high. Don’t look so surprised, absolutely none of you are good at covering up the smell and even less of you are smart enough to avoid walking past the giant ass windows that are right there,” he says, gesturing to the wall of windows to his right. “Seriously, at least be smart enough to avoid the windows of the class you’re supposed to be in.”

Peter snickers by the door looking amused and he knows he should tell Peter not to laugh but he can’t bring himself to do it. “You let Parker get away with everything,” the kid mumbles and Tony shrugs.

“Well, he’s got a ninety eight in this class and you know what your grade is,” he mumbles, causing Peter to snort and start laughing again. He gets a dirty look for it and Tony is gracious enough to let the mumbled swear words pass unnoticed mostly because he doesn’t really care. Instead he focuses on the way Peter looks at him as he slips out the door, smile on his face. God damn he needs to get over himself.

Peter’s behind his desk, legs spread a little and he can’t really see anything really but Tony’s got a pretty wild imagination and he’s happy he’s sitting behind a desk. Peter chews on his pen quietly, occasionally shooting Tony a look accompanied by a small smile before turning back to his test. He’s sure, positive, that Peter is doing this on purpose. Or he’s imagining the whole thing to suit his wants so he shakes his head a little, trying to focus on the tests he needs to mark and not the way Peter’s hand slips down and trails his fingers up the inside of his thigh. God, he can’t be that ignorant to his actions, right?

Either way Tony does his best to avoid looking at Peter for too long and Peter makes that a fucking hardship looking like that. But eventually, mercifully, Peter gets up, looking over his test answers for a moment before letting out a soft ‘oh’ and turning around to fix whatever it is he’s noticed. And instead of sitting back down like a normal fucking person he bends over, ass facing Tony and in that short little skirt of his Tony can see the red lace and that’s it, he fucking loses it, getting out of his seat and walking towards Peter before he can even form a conscious thought about it.

When Peter turns around Tony is right there already, pushing him onto the desk behind him. He runs one hand up Peter’s thigh, it feels as soft as it looks, and curls the other around his neck, bringing him in for a kiss. It occurs to him maybe too late to ask but Peter gives him an enthusiastic, if silent, yes in the form of wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck and curling his legs around his waist. Peter’s back arches into him and he lets out a soft moan into Tony’s mouth as Tony toys with the edge of his skirt.

Peter’s fingers make their way into his hair and Tony can’t help the small noise of pleasure he lets out because he’s imagined this a million times, the way Peter would curl his fingers into his hair and pull at it a little bit as he gets desperate, moans growing increasingly louder as Tony teases him. Not that he needs the fantasies now, Peter is clearly more than willing to make those late night fantasies a reality with the way he’s clinging to Tony’s body. But he has to pull away a little. Peter immediately lets out a whine at the loss, making Tony laugh softly before leaning back in and giving him a soft, slow kiss that has Peter all but melting in his grasp. Fuck he’s hot.

Doesn’t change the fact that they’re in a classroom though and Peter pouts at him when he pulls back again. “Mr. Stark,” he all but whines at him.

Tony pets Peter’s thighs lightly. “Baby, we’re in a classroom,” he points out.

“So?” Peter says, petulant.

He gestures to the big ass wall of windows that thankfully don’t face the street. The problem is self evident but it doesn’t seem to phase Peter any. ��Your point?” he says and Tony really has no idea where he gets this stuff.

“My point is that I’m not looking to lose my job over witnesses, tempting as you are,” he murmurs, hands dropping down to Peter’s narrow waist. His skirt is hiked up even further and that mostly just tempts him more.

“Fine then,” Peter says, “I’m sure we can find somewhere in here with no windows.”

Yeah, a fucking janitor’s closet and that’s so not what he has in mind for this. “Baby, we can do better than a desk in a school,” he points out.

Peter still pouts at him though, “aw, I had a few fantasies about yours,” he says, leg around Tony’s waist hitching a bit higher. God damn Tony does too but it doesn’t change the window situation.

He leans in and kisses Peter again, “you know where I live, hmm?” he murmurs into his mouth. Benefit of the suburbs, he figures, is knowing your neighbors. Actually he fucking hates that, misses the anonymity of New York city, but right now it works in his favor because Peter nods. “Good. You’re gunna go home, tell your aunt you’re staying at Ned’s, and then you’re going to come over to my place and I’m going to show you what happens when you fucking tease me for months. Fucking chewing on the end of your pen all the damn time, always touching your damn thighs, your damn skirt, those panties,” Tony shakes his head as he looks Peter over. “Wanted to bend you over my desk so many god damn times.”

Peter slips off the desk, making use of what little space was between them as he presses up flush against Tony’s body. “M’so not stopping you from doing that, Mr. Stark,” he says, fingers toying with his hair. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

Tony snorts, “baby, I’ve wanted you since the beginning of the year when you walked in wearing those thigh highs,” he says honestly. Tony had walked straight into a fucking door after witnessing that and he spilt hot coffee all down his shirt. Pretty good punishment for eyeing up a teenager, he’d figured.

Peter leans up and kisses him, guiding one of Tony’s hands to his ass and that’s so hot. If there’s anything Tony likes in a partner its that they know what they like and they aren’t afraid to ask for it with or without words. He squeezes Peter’s ass a little, delighting in the soft moan Peter lets out as he presses himself harder into Tony’s body. “How do I know you won’t back out on me, hmm? You’ve been so good all year. Too good,” Peter says, pouting.

“Already kissed you, baby, can’t come back from that. And god I have to have more of you.” He can’t just leave it like this, walk away from Peter like nothing ever happened when he knows it did, knows Peter wants more. Fuck, that’s way too good to pass up.

This seems to satisfy Peter enough because he grins. “I could probably get May to let me spend the whole weekend at Ned’s,” he says and damn if that’s not what Tony wants to hear.

“I’ll take you for as long as I can get you, baby. And bring those thigh highs too,” he adds.

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction #student/teacher

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gliese710 · 4 years

Text

Love - The Punishment: Part 1

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Y/N

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Summary: Y/N is a low ranked devil who finds her joy in the smallest of mischiefs. If only a certain angel could mind his own business.

Warnings: Swearings I guess?

Masterpost

Note: This is my first story. I'm still not sure if it's readable at all or if posting was a good idea. Still if you're reading this feel free to make suggestions ^^

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

"Smash the TV, it's tit for tat," you whisper in the enraged boy's ear. His mother just broke his gaming console. As, of course, you were successful in provoking him to play all day long despite his finals knocking on the door. And when his mother hid the console maybe you also convinced him to steal it. Teenagers should have fun, you thought.

You watch as the boy picks up his baseball bat and storms through the door. A small smirk plays on your lips as you spread your wings to follow him, not wanting to miss the show.

Goal. You step in the living room excitedly. But-

What the fuck is he doing? A frown takes place on your brows upon seeing the boy hesitant to execute the action.

Once again you reach out to him, "Come on, do it. You'll feel much better if you take your anger out. She deserves it anyway, never letting you do anything you want. This is your life, you are the one to decide how you want to spend it. She has no right to dictate you."

Still, the boy doesn't budge from his position. You watch as guilt flashes in his eyes and he slowly starts retreating to his room, leaving the TV intact.

Realization hits you like a truck after a moment. Angel.

You move your head left and right to confirm your suspicion. And there he is, sitting on top of the dining table, legs hanging below, white wings tucked behind his back with all his grace, glaring at you with big bright eyes.

You huff out in annoyance. There's no point being here anymore. Shooting back a death glare at him, you fly out of the house.

Fucking snob. He just had to ruin your day. Now you need to find another prey. Not that it's hard, the world is full of shits anyway.

You find your target pretty soon, a small kid with his mother in a convenience store. And it's winter so-

"You want ice cream," you command, lips twitching upwards as the boy obeys you. And surely his mother denies.

So you proceed to the next step, "Chocolate ice cream tastes so good. She'll have to buy you one if you get on the floor and cry."

You were so ready to enjoy a little drama, and yet...yet the kid nods in obedience. Forget throwing a fit, he doesn't even argue.

Impossible. A small kid just resisted your advances.

You stand baffled for a second before narrowing your eyes on the source of your disruption. Of course he won't leave you that easily.

The saucer-eyed angel from before is staring at you from outside the store, with the blankest expression of all time and you get a sudden urge to claw those eyes out.

That jobless piece of shit, why the fuck is he following you?

You decide to ask him the right way, the violent way. He bought this upon himself.

However, as you were just about to stop throwing daggers at him through your eyes and move outside so that you could maybe punch some sense into him, he flies away.

You hurriedly run outside the store but he's already gone.

Sneaky bastard.

You decide to call it a day. He just sucked up all your energy.

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

Fucking unbelievable. You had been in a great mood lately, having spent a good productive week. And here the ass of an angel had to ruin that by destroying your sweetest treat.

You spent so much time provoking that girl with the princess syndrome to bully the other girl who's wearing a wristwatch probably from the Joseon era. Seriously though, why would she even wear a model this old?

And finally, when the bully was about to break the watch he had to interrupt.

Now you are beyond mad. What is he even doing here, again?

You're not going to let him get away without settling the scores this time. He'll have to pay for your loss.

You were expecting to see him flee like before. So you get a little surprised when he doesn't even move from his position seeing you approaching.

"It's her mother's. She is wearing it because it's her death anniversary and she feels lonely, " the creep says, eyes fixed on the girl, not even sparing you a glance.

You furrow your brows in confusion. Why is he telling you all these? Is he trying to get you more worked up, by rubbing the fact in your face that you missed a good chance at witnessing a catfight when triggered enough?

He turns to look at your confused form glaring murderously at him and sighs heavily, before getting ready to run away again.

Huh. Like he could.

You too take flight after him. "Hey, dickhead! Mind telling me why the hell are you following me?" you ask, tailing behind him.

"It was a coincidence, I'm not following you," he retorts with a cold emotionless voice, looking straight ahead.

"Yeah, right," you scoff.

He keeps flying, still refusing to look at you.

"Where are you going?" you continue chasing him.

Silence.

"Do you stalk other devils too?"

Silence.

"I'm sure you were a stalker while alive, old habits die hard you know. You were accidentally put in the heaven, righ-"

He finally stops.

"I told you I wasn't following you," he speaks with a slight rise in his voice. "Stop with your tactics and please leave me alone."

"Oh! How can I leave my perfect source of entertainment alone when he willingly walked into my den?"

He glowers at you and you raise your brows, giving him a mischievous upturn of your lips.

After that day, the angel had never been left alone. You clung onto him like a leech. He tried hard to get rid of you, giving you fierce glares or sometimes trying to sweet talk you into leaving him. Nothing worked, so he gave up eventually, resorting to acting like you were invisible to him.

You're enjoying the time of your life though. Annoying him is so much fun.

"I bet that tastes nasty. What do you think?" you say, sitting beside him on the couch, watching as the newlywed husband tries hard to swallow the food his wife cooked for him. He smiles afterward, telling her this is the best food he has ever eaten.

You snort at this.

"Such cheesy lines! Aren't angels supposed to be against lying?"

He doesn't pay you any attention, instead keeps his gaze glued on the couple. The girl is now laughing hard at some joke her lovesick puppy of a husband has told.

You're itching to ruin this moment. A few days from now, they're going to be at each other's neck anyway. Why pretending now!

But your power is too limited to do anything in the presence of your companion. So pestering him would have to do for now.

"What's your name?" you ask him for the n-th time, also to get completely ignored for the n-th time.

You sigh dramatically, " It's rude you know. I've given you my name and you still refuse to tell me yours. Angels aren't supposed to be rude like this."

You get his attention this time.

"Will you leave me alone if I give you my name?" he slowly turns to look at you.

"But why would I do that?" you chuckle, "I'm not leaving you alone and that's the reason you should tell me your name," you continue, batting your eyes innocently, "We're going to spend a lifetime together."

He rolls his eyes and looks away again.

"Come on. I'm not that bad as a company and it's not like you have any friends anyway. I'm doing you a favor by keeping you entertained, " you say, now hovering over his face so that he has no choice but to look at you.

"I have friends..." he scowls, "and you just keep my headaches incessant."

You smirk and he stands up, pushing you aside to leave the house. His job here is done.

You follow, humming and swaying like a child behind him, leaving the giggling couple alone.

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

Kyungsoo can't believe his eyes. He has spent the last hour practically begging her not to do this, telling her over and over again that this shall pass, that everything will be fine again, that this is not her fault so she shouldn't be the one to commit to eternal suffering. He barely has any energy left. So, when she jumps off the cliff despite all that, he feels devastated, worthless even.

Grief covers his heart. He stares blankly at the hollow space in front of him, standing completely still.

"See..." you yawn, "Told you it's a lost case. It would be more fun to see her rip that cheater boyfriend's head off, but at least the world is ridden of a coward now. Why did she even have to love him so blindly, it always ends up the same. She had it coming anyway, being so fooli-"

"Shut up!" he snarls.

You visibly flinch. He looks outrageous. You shudder a little under his blazing gaze.

"You did this! If only I could concentrate more...but no! A useless piece of filth had to be even more of a burden," he scoffs, "Why do you even exist? The world would definitely be a better place without you!"

You stand dumbstruck. Partly because you have never imagined him to be anything other than the epitome of patience, but mostly because of how you are feeling right now. You should feel angry or happy even that you triggered him, an angel! But strangely those feelings are nowhere to be found, instead you feel...sad?

"The next time I see you I'll make sure the world gets ridden of atleast one piece of it's burdens," he growls and with that flies off to somewhere, leaving you too stunned to move.

You stand there, unable to move your eyes from the spot he stood a moment ago, utterly shaken.

Your chest feels heavy for some unknown reason. Snapping out of it after a while, you too fly, though this time not after a certain someone.

You feel lost, not knowing where to go or what to do. You curse under your breath when you realize that a few days of entertainment has done more harm to yourself than good.

You've never been so directionless before.

#exo #exo scenario #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo series #angel exo #exo fluff #exo angst #devil au exo #kyungsoo #kyungsoo scenario #kyungsoo fanfic #angel kyungsoo #kyungsoo fluff #kyungsoo angst

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sinner-as-saint · 5 years

Text

Call An Avenger (Sequel)

Run-through: After y/n thinks that fooling around with two gorgeous cast mates was a one-time thing only, things take a turn. For the better?

Themes: smut, language, fluff (a little bit), just a wee bit of angst.

You thought it was a one-time thing, right? Well, you were sort of wrong. After the two had you whimpering their names on repeat, squirming under their touches as you came multiple times around their fingers and mouths, you thought you were done.

You didn’t think that you would get addicted to their touch after the first time itself.

Later that day, given that you still had a couple more interviews left, you had to cover up the hickeys and love marks they left on your body with concealer and you had to wear a turtle neck sweater just to be sure.

Fortunately enough, you didn’t have any more interviews along with the two, because honestly, your body was still shaking and your head was still a little cloudy and you weren’t sure you would act normally around them.

“Y/n, are you okay? You look, different,” Linda noticed, and this was best-friend-Linda speaking, not bossy-assistant-Linda.

Yeah, Linda, I’m fine I just came too hard earlier I suppose.

“Yeah, I’m good, don’t worry. Are we done here for today?” you asked, feeling a subtle, sweet pain in between your hips with every step you took. Oh, damn them.

“Yeah, we can go home,” she said and you rushed to your car.

The ride home consisted of you daydreaming about two very muscular, handsome men with breathtaking smiles, who fucked you into oblivion earlier.

Your driver dropped you off at the hotel you were currently staying at, and you rushed up to your room – in desperate need of a bath.

While in the warm, sweet smelling bath, your mind forced you to recall your past actions.

flashback :

You could feel Sebastian’s tongue making its way in between your folds, his fingers equally busy slipping in and out of your entrance, while Chris had his lips attached to your neck, his teeth teasing the skin until it was bright red. His beard scratched your skin and it burned a little bit but you liked it. He kept whispering his unholy thoughts in your ear as Seb’s tongue worked its magic on you until your thighs were shaking around his head.

“You’re gonna cum for us, huh, doll?” Chris asked, as his fingers slowly rubbed your clit, applying just the slightest of pressure – enough to make you go crazy but not enough to make you cum yet.

“Yes, yes I will… just please-,” you trailed off moaning.

“Be quiet baby, there are quite a lot of people around outside this changing room,” Seb whispered against your heat, looking up at you.

You had once imagined what he would look like in between your legs, with his tongue taking in whatever you had, but the thought was nowhere as filthy as the real sight in front of you. He looked unreal, his face flushed, his five o’clock shadow glistening due to how he lapped up every drop of your desire as it flowed out of you. His slightly long hair messy due to your fingers being tangled in them. He looked godly.

His lifted his wet mouth off of your heat for a moment, fastening the pace at which his fingers moved in and out of you.

And soon, you couldn’t hold the delicious pressure anymore, so you came undone around both their fingers.

It took you a few seconds to come down from your euphoric state – moaning and whimpering.

“That’s a good girl,” Seb commented, pulling you into his arms as he kissed the living shit out of you. You felt his tongue exploring your mouth and it drove you crazy.

Your hands tugged at his hair again as you felt a body pressed against your back. And you hummed in bliss.

Chris kissed your shoulder and your neck from behind as his fingers started toying with your folds again. You were bare, trapped between both of them and their entire attention was on you. You also felt both their hard on.

And soon, they made you cum again. And again.

But despite how much you wanted to return the favor and make them feel good as well, you all had limited time on your hands. And it wasn’t long until Linda called you, asking you to hurry up.

End of flashback.

You sighed, still feeling hot everywhere their skin made contact with yours. You smiled, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. The water in the tub was getting a bit colder and you knew you had to shower quickly and get out, but you also didn’t want to wash away their touch and their kisses. You didn’t want to get rid of their presence on your skin.

This wasn’t love, but it was a fiery feeling which was more than just a crush.

After your shower, you decided that since you had the evening off, maybe it might be the right time to just wind down, have some tea and curl up on one of the comfy couches and read a book.

You didn’t bother putting clothes on so you were just roaming around the spacious room in a satin bathrobe. You made some Earl Grey tea and went back to the living area. As soon as you curled up on the black couch, your phone buzzed.

Picking it up, you saw that it was a couple of emails from your manager, a few messages from people which you would definitely reply to if you weren’t so worn out, and you saw that Linda sent you a link to a YouTube video.

Check this out: (link)

You tapped on the link, thinking it will be another one of those funny skits she sends you all the time. But this one was different. It was a video title: ‘Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans shamelessly flirting with Y/N Y/L/N for 4 minutes straight’.

Oh, so people noticed.

You watched the whole thing and shook your head at how funny and sassy your fans could be. You typed a quick reply to Linda and placed your phone down beside you, and then got to thinking.

What if, you and the two men really were a thing? Would people slut shame you? Would it be a big deal?

You had an open mind and you didn’t think that there was anything bad with polyamory. But since you lived in the public eye, would people judge you?

Of course they would, they always did. What were you doing? The two were probably not even thinking of you right now. Come on, you thought, they’re both good looking, genuinely nice gentlemen who were well-off. It won’t take them much to find women who were way better than you.

Fuck, there you did it again. You ruined everything just by over thinking.

“Are you okay there, doll?” a voice asked, causing you to look up in surprise. It was Sebastian, and behind him was Chris.

“What – I, what are you doing here? I mean, how did you get in?” you asked, trying your best not to look stressed out.

“Well, you left the door unlocked, and we thought since we’re staying at the same hotel, you know, maybe we could, uh, hang out. If you want, that is,” Chris explained and you nodded.

“Yeah… I mean, we’re friends and I-,”

“Friends? Is that what we are? Tell me, do friends think about fucking each other all the time?” Sebastian asked, taking a seat next to you, running his hand up and down your exposed leg.

Chris sat on the other side of you, and said nothing.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, Seb. It’s just that, it’s not – I mean, it’s impossible for us to be more than that because of our jobs and I know it sounds rushed but when I’m with you, with both of you it feels like, like, I don’t know, like-,”

“Like something fits?” Chris finished your sentence, smiling gently at you as his hands tucked the hair which fell out of your messy bun behind your ear.

The action was so sweet and heartfelt that it made you want to ride him till the sun came up the next morning.

“Yeah, like something fits,” you replied, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“Well, we feel the same, babe,” Sebastian spoke, grabbing your face and turning it towards him gently so he could look at you in the eyes.

“And we don’t know what that means or what it would entail, but there’s one thing for sure, we’d keep you safe,” Chris said. And you smiled at him.

You sighed and stood up, only to sit down on the coffee table facing both of them.

“And what about you two? Are you, you know, into each other as well?” you asked, smirking.

They looked at each other and smirked back at you.

“Well, we’ve, uh, experimented together,” Chris’ reply got you all hot and bothered.

“And?” you asked further.

“And this piece of ass is shy to tell you that he likes being fucked in the ass,” Sebastian replied, leaning back into the couch.

You giggled.

“So, you’re a bottom, huh Chris? Oh the things I’d do just to see that,” you whispered, biting your lips at they both had your eyes fixed on you.

“That can be arranged, babygirl. Just say it,” Sebastian whispered huskily, leaning towards you and holding you jaw gently, his lips only millimeters away.

Your eyes flicked between him and Chris, who just sat there with an obvious hard on. His lips parted as he let out ragged breaths. Now he was all hot and bothered too.

Sebastian’s breath fanned your face as a mischievous thought formed in your head.

“Actually, maybe another time. Can we watch a movie instead? And cuddle maybe?” you asked, innocently, placing your hand on the center of Sebastian’s chest and pushing him back into the couch.

He sighed loudly. And Chris did the same. But they agreed nonetheless.

So you chose a movie, grabbed a blanket and settled yourself in between the two built men.

Yet, you knew it won’t be long until all three of you were going at it with each other like wild animals.

And eventually you did.

Midway through the movie, Chris groaned.

“What, this is the best part, Chris! This is where-,” you got cut off by a pair of lips smashing onto yours.

Chris grabbed your face and pressed his body against yours, slowly guiding one of your hands over his very visible and prominent hard on. You smiled into the kiss.

“Got you all worked up, did I?” you asked, briefly breaking the kiss. He sighed.

“Well your ass was literally on top of my crotch, baby,” he answered and tugged on your bottom lip. You giggled.

Meanwhile behind you, Sebastian undid the knot on the side of your robe and pulled it down your shoulders in no time. He kissed his way from your exposed shoulder to your neck and soon found your sweet spot – which he nibbled on mercilessly, making you whimper in pleasure.

“You smell so good, babe,” he commented against you cheek, kissing your jaw. His hands started moving down to your core but Chris stopped him, making you let out a little whine.

“I think our girl said she wanted something earlier, why not give her that first?” he suggested, and Sebastian smirked at him, then down at you.

He stood up, pulling you up along with him and he sat you down on the coffee table once again. He took off his clothes, slowly as your eyes trailed up and down his perfectly built body. God took his time on this one, you thought.

Sebastian stripped down completely, his length fully erected as he bent down and looked deep into your e/c orbs with his dreamy, blue ones.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and watch as I take him from behind baby, yeah?” he whispered against your lips, and you nodded, clenching your thighs together tightly in order to help you out of your misery because you knew by his demeanor that he was not gonna let you cum so easily.

He caressed you cheekbone and left you to focus on Chris, who was also out of everything he was wearing earlier. And he held a tube in his hand.

“I got the lube,” he announced, and Seb took it from his grasp, opened it and coated his hard on completely, all while maintaining eye contact with Chris. You could have sworn you saw him shudder under his gaze only.

Chris got on his knees on the couch and faced Sebastian as the latter kissed him mercilessly, their tongue teasing each other and hands all over each other as you felt a warmth take over your body as you watched them.

You bit you lip as your hand slowly traveled down to your heat, and you realized that you were dripping already. You moved your fingers against your folds gently as Seb positioned himself behind Chris and teased him with his tip while his hand stroked Chris’ length. He moaned out loud and you almost did too as your palm rubbed against your little bundle of nerves.

“Desperate, aren’t you?” Seb asked Chris as he kept stroking his length and he slipped his own into the latter.

Chris moaned again, letting out a ragged breath as he wrapped his own hand around Seb’s and urged him to stroke him faster.

“Fuck, just move already,” Chris whined and Seb obliged.

He started out slowly but then increased his pace at moving in and out of Chris’ tight hole. Curse words floated around the room as Seb caught you touching yourself with your head thrown back, trying your best to hold in your moans.

“Look at me babygirl,” Seb ordered, and since you weren’t too far away, he grabbed your jaw harshly and forced you to look up at him.

You did, and whimpered loudly at the sight on front of you. Sebastian was relentlessly moving in and out of Chris – pumping him with one hand, while the other hand held your face. Chris’ moans caused another drop of your lust to flow out of you and the sounds of their skin slapping didn’t not help at all, yet, all you could do was to slip two fingers in between your folds in order to try and alleviate the delicious pressure which formed at your heat.

Soon, the two of them were sweaty, moaning messes as they both came undone – panting loudly.

“Fuck!” Chris moaned out loud and Sebastian slipped out of him gently.

By now, you were dripping and you were sure that they could see the droplets of desire which flowed out of you and onto the mahogany coffee table. The sight of it made you blush, but not for long.

Chris sat directly in front of you, his eyes closed as he came down from his high. His chest glistened with a thin layer of sweat and his lips plump and pink due to Seb’s ferocious kiss earlier. Just watching him like that was hot enough to get you off.

“You’re literally dripping, baby,” Sebastian cooed at your ear. You didn’t even notice that he had inched closer to you by now.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap back on the couch. You settled your heat on his toned thigh and he almost moaned when he saw how wet you actually were.

His hands grabbed your ass and pushed your body further into his, as his lips sucked on your neck once again. You moaned as your hands tangled into his dark hair.

“Seb, please, I need you in me. Now,” you said, breaking the kiss and he smirked at you.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he said and pushed you down onto your back on the couch. Chris stood up and went behind Sebastian, lining himself behind him.

And that’s how the three of you fucked the living shit out of each other. Chris slipped his length into Seb, while the latter was buried deep in you. You soon caught a rhythm and the three of you moved perfectly against one another.

The smell of sex filled the air, as did your moans and the wet sounds of your actions.

Chris’ eyebrows furrowed as his felt his orgasm building quickly. Seb frowned in pleasure as he felt himself being filled from behind while your tight walls milked him just like he wanted them to.

You felt your orgasm build up pretty quickly too, and the moans coming from the both of them didn’t help at all.

You were desperate for a release and you were sure that they were too.

“Fuck, you both feel so damn good!” Seb moaned as he felt Chris’ thrust becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second, signaling that he came. He felt the warm load leak out of him as Chris pulled out slowly, panting and groaning as he saw how perfectly your tits were bouncing due to the pace at which Sebastian moved in and out of you.

Seb fastened his pace and soon, you felt you walls clench around him, pumping him until he came as well, biting down at you shoulder to keep himself from moaning too loudly.

You came with a loud moan, feeling Seb’s load hitting your walls inside. He slowly pulled out and let his body fall on the couch, his head falling on Chris’ broad shoulder.

You lifted you trembling body up and settled yourself in between his legs, panting still as you came down from your high.

“Well, that was something I could get used to,” Chris said, reaching out and holding your hand tightly in his, as if reassuring you that he would take care of you from now on.

“Oh, I agree,” Seb said, kissing the side of your head as it laid on top of his chest.

“Me too,” you said, lifting your head to look at both of them, lacing your fingers with Chris’ as you kissed Seb’s warm chest and then laid your face against it, your ear right where his heart was. Hearing his heartbeat was soothing. And it helped you to calm down.

You didn’t care what anyone thought of you, you were happy with these two.

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sithqet · 4 years

Text

KOTOR Era

AWell, there’s the Exile and Revan, so might as well introduce them first but then I go off on a tangent.

Xerie Kolb/Revan

I’m going with the Memoryless!Revan image because, uh, they wear a mask most of the time anyways when they know who they are. Yeah, that’s the explanation I’m going with. This is Xerie, an :3 gremlin motherfucker, and so is Revan. The chaos in this form of this is more benevolent but they’re still. A Lot. A theatrical, chaotic, over-the-top presence.

Alexin Siladi/The Jedi Exile

Also known as Lex the Ex. She is also a :3 motherfucker but to a lesser extent because I actually think it’s impossible to match Revan’s chaos levels. Lex is the love of my life, the stars to my sky, my everything <3. She has a lot of issues she’s working through, as the Jedi Exile (you know how it is), aaaand she’s not. sure how to feel about Revan atm. She’ll get back to you on that. She is trying to be a kinder person tho so I’ll give her that <3

~And now for MY bastards~

Darth Eitqet/Keth Balgri

There’s an icon of them without the mask too but uh you’re not getting it. It’s not what they’d want. Eitqet is a Jedi-Turned-Sith near the end of the Mandalorian wars, but not for that reason (cough cough). They just. Were going through some stuff and ended up being taken advantage of by a manipulative motherfucker who was like “yeah, teenage angst. can use that to make a good sith.” and then he did and Eitqet has a lot of trauma from it tbh. They had a boyfriend named Isifel Balgri who was a soldier who worked for them and, uh, fucking died. But he had a little sister, Teelyn, who Eitqet secretly sent money to because Force forbid anyone know they care about someone. After they step away from the Sith, and their Sith persona, they take the name Keth Balgri because they’re trans and didn’t want their deadname or any association with it so just picked a name they thought was cool and got Teelyn’s permission to have her dead brother’s last name.

Also I call Keth redeemed!Eitqet a lot but they’re not lightside. Well, they are but they aren’t. They kinda swing back and forth depending on the day and who’s supervising. They are trying though lmao.

OH RIGHT PLOT they are looking for pieces of an ancient artifact called “The Puzzle” but Ceres has the map to the pieces and so they reluctantly travel with her. Ceres lets them travel with her because she can’t get through the Sith temples without a Dark Side Force user.

Ceres Beatrix

A Jedi who’s trying to find pieces of an ancient artifact called “The Puzzle” for... hm, reasons ;-) (I know them but it’s spoilers lmao) while trying to keep her chaotic crew of two children and a Sith Lord under control. She is a very sweet and kind healer who happens to be a sarcastic bastard who swears like a trucker. She’s also dogshit at fighting, unfortunately for her.

Mihya Endan

Baby Nautolan padawan c:. She’s Ceres’, like, 13 year old padawan who is just adorable tbh. When she was, like, 9, before she became Ceres’ padawan, she rescued Ceres from underwater assassins after having a Force Vision of them attacking her and Ceres was like “Hmm...”

She’s autistic (all of my characters are autistic coded tbh, and everyone in this era is especially autistic coded because GDI I want representation) and her special interest is animals? Like, you could go to any planet, point at any animal, and go “Hey, Mihya, what’s that?” and as long as it had been discovered before she could and would tell you all about it. This is also very helpful because she wants to make friends with any animal she sees, and does. Like, don’t get me wrong, it’s because she’s Force sensitive but there are very few animals she can’t get along with.

Also there’s a running gag of not being allowed to curse. She really wants to curse and Ceres is a fucking hypocrite.

Oh, she’s also the, like, great great aunt of my Hero of Tython Umeka Endan.

Teelyn Balgri

Another baby. She is Isifel’s 13 year old little sister who is barely scraping by in an apartment on Nar Shaddaa because Eitqet’s “hey i’m sorry your brother died under my command also i was in love with him :/” checks just cover the rent, basically. This gal has a lot of burden on her. Anyways, one day, when Eitqet & co. are on Nar Shaddaa, she ends up pissing off the Exchange who were going to hurt and/or kill her and Eitqet saved her ass but since they killed some Exchange folks it wasn’t, uh, safe for her to stay there, so this extremely normal teen girl just ends up being brought along for a Space Wizard Adventure. Also, she is the only one who can tell Eitqet what to do (and they voluntarily listen).

Isifel Balgri

Teelyn’s older brother, and Eitqet’s lover. He was a soldier who worked for Eitqet aaaand he died. Whoops. He was the only person Eitqet trusted. Shit sucks, man.

Darth Nos

Eitqet’s Sith Master. A manipulative prick who thinks he’s the shit. He’s not actually that cool but he did invent a Force technique and then used it on Eitqet, which still causes them issues to this day. Eitqet killed him for that, though. And because they thought he was going to kill him but that’s beside the point. Anyways, he’s bastard and very bad.

Segai Oake

The ancestor of Barsen’thor Tharril Oake :-)

Eitqet’s Jedi master. Eventually, like 10 years after Eitqet left the Jedi, Oake found them and confronted them and it, uh, didn’t go well for her. There was a big fight: Ceres and Oake vs Eitqet but Ceres was never good at fighting and Oake was unprepared and.... she, uh, died. Eitqet killed her. Yeah. Their worst moment, tbh.

Aria

Aria’s existence is a huuuuge spoiler for the end of the story. Aria is a talented Sith sorceress, but she has always been unable to limit her power. Because of this, when she was 6 years old, she accidentally orphaned herself. She spent the rest of her childhood and early teens trying and failing to learn to control her power, but when she got older, some Sith lords discovered the power she held and used her as a weapon of mass destruction. It quickly became apparent that abuse of Aria's powers led to her deteriorating health, which already had never been great, and that if she pushed herself too far she could put herself in serious danger. Her Sith masters didn't care, though, only caring about exploiting her power, only barely stopping short of killing her each time and eventually Aria had had enough, turning her power on them instead. She continued to work for the Sith Empire, and work to the same limits, but she always knew when she felt safe to stop and allowed herself rest in between bouts of exertion. Eventually, she was granted the title of Sith Lord and works to further the Empire's interests.

Doesn't seem to take anything seriously (she does, but she does not show it), likes to make jokes, tease people, and generally stir up trouble between people. She can be very annoying, and if she finds someone whose presence she enjoys she will cling to them.

She's very sadistic and enjoys hurting people, especially people who have hurt her.

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haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 5 years

Text

anonymous asked: I'm so happy the request are open! Please can I request Kuroo and his girlfriend are both medical students and one day when they're particularly alone in one of the college labs or classrooms he somehow convince her that it's okay to have a quickie here even though she was scared that someone may find out or caught them at it? Thx

Warning: nsfw

where am i, who am i, except constantly in kuroo smut hell (which honestly isn’t the worst) i don’t know if this can even be considered a ‘quickie’ but we’ll just go with yes. hope you enjoy !! because...i...did..

Trying his best not to groan, Kuroo leaned back in his chair; rubbing his burning eyes and then running a hand through his hair. The sun set hours ago, and the fluorescent lights were beginning to give him a headache. He glanced at you, back to him, writing something on the whiteboard at the front of the room; drawing a line through the body diagram you’d sketched. He knew you were saying something to him, trying to teach, since he asked for clarification about some circulation pathway he kept getting mixed up.

But really all he could focus on was the way your body moved, hands motioning wildly as you spoke; crossing to the other side of the whiteboard to point something out. Fuck—you were so goddamn smart; he’d been absolutely powerless against you those first weeks of medical school. A total goner when he overhead you just go off on another male student who claimed females inherently weren’t cut out for the medical profession; utterly destroying the kid with your knowledge and passion. He thought he wasn’t going to be able to handle it when you’d ended up in the same lab group as him, but by some miracle, you hadn’t thought he was a total imbecile and agreed to go on a date with him. And now here you were at the end of the year, dating since then.

That was how you found him when you turned around, dazed in his chair; looking like his mind was on anything but the circulatory system. “Were you even listening?” You demanded, getting his attention by striding in front of his table and waving a hand in front of his face.

He blinked and then grinned sheepishly. “I don’t know how much more information I can stuff up here tonight,” he motioned to his temple.

You frowned. “We still have the muscular system to do.”

He leaned his head back letting out a groan. You and he have been in the anatomy lab for hours studying for your final in a few days and he was convinced his brain was going to explode. He couldn’t fathom how you could muster the willpower to continue.

“I think my eyeballs are going to shrivel up and die,” he claimed, watching you move to his side of the table to stand before him and offer a hand.

Pulling him up out of his chair, you rolled your eyes. “I don’t think that’s possible.” Leading him to join you at the whiteboard, you started explaining what was on it again but damn him—he let his mind wander again, his attention focusing on your lips. God how long has it been since he last kissed you beyond anything but a tender peck? How long since his hands had free range over every dip and curve of your body; soft pleas of his name in the cadence of your voice filling the air?

Oh, he was really screwed now if that’s the direction his thoughts were taking.

Carefully, he sidled closer allowing his hand to drift down the expanse of your back before settling on your ass. Words dying in your throat, your gaze slid over to him suspiciously. “Kuroo…” you said in a low voice. “What…are you…doing?”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “I’ve thought of a much more interactive way of studying.”

You lifted a brow, asking, “Oh, have you?”

He plucked the whiteboard marker from you with his free hand, setting it onto the ledge while turning you to face his chest. Pulling you flush against him, he moved his hand to firmly cup both of your cheeks and lowering his head to nuzzle into your neck. He trailed kisses from beneath your ear towards your collarbone, between them saying, “I have. What muscle is this?”

Attempting to maintain your composure, your pressed your hands to his chest trying to push away from him. “I don’t think this is very conducive to our learning.”

He held firm, murmuring, “Humor me.” His warm breath sending goosebumps along your skin.

“Someone could walk in at any moment,” you hissed, pushing against him a bit harder; cursing your dumb heart for beating wildly against your chest at his suggestion. On any given day it was impossible to resist him but since you couldn’t even remember the last time he touched you like this, it would be a near herculean task to keep him at bay.

He nipped gently at your ear, hands drifting underneath your shirt to skim along the sensitive skin of your back, hoping to persuade you. “We haven’t seen a soul all day.”

You paused. Oh—what the hell. Now, instead of pushing him away, your fingers curled into his shirt; thoughts clouding as to what exactly he had in mind.

“The sternocleidomastoid.”

You felt him grin against your neck. “I love it when you talk smart to me,” he whispered silkily, earning a scoff from you. “Tell me again.”

“You fucking weirdo—”

“Just do it,” he said, pressing himself a little harder against you; you were so close to caving he just had to nudge you a bit farther.

An eyeroll from you, but you complied. You didn’t think with that pressure against your leg there was a point to you resisting him much longer anyways. Rising to your toes to reach his ear, you wrapped your arms around him lacing your fingers through his hair at the back of his neck eliciting a low groan from him. “The sternocleidomastoid.”

“Fuck.” He moaned, gripping the backs of your thighs to lift you off the ground and wrap your legs around him, he carried you to the nearest table. His mouth moved from your neck, up your jaw to your lips; wasting no time to start trailing kisses down your sternum, pushing your shirt up to gain access to your stomach. A choked breath escaped you as his hand delved under your sweatpants to palm you through your underwear; he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth effectively making you melt beneath him.

He found great pleasure in the small sound he got from you as he lazily dragged one finger up through your folds, a groan emitting from him at the slickness already gathered there. “So wet,” he whispered, forehead pressed against yours.

“We have to be qui—" He stopped just below your clit to drag his finger back down, your sentence cut off to plead, “Ah—Kuroo…please.” Teasing you further he avoided the part of you that was aching to be touched, enjoying you squirming impatiently underneath him. “This is no time for your endless teasing.”

He smirked. “Why don’t you tell me what you want then?”

“Oh jesus fuck—” You whimpered, thighs trembling at his unhurried pace. “I—” a huff, “I—oh—please Tetsu just touch me already.” It had been weeks since he last touched you and you were burning up, desperate for any sort of friction.

Now you were playing unfair, throwing out his nickname like that; he was unable to quell the low growl that emanated from his throat. He finally granted your request, dragging a calloused finger up against the hardened bud of your clit; drinking in the sight of your entire body reacting to his touch—back arching with your head pressed against the table exposing the glorious expanse of your throat for him to latch onto.

Fingers scrabbling at his back for any sort of purchase to push your hips against his hand, trying to urge him to pick up any pace faster than the agonizingly slow one he was currently torturing you with. He deeply enjoyed your desperation as he made a mark at the juncture of your throat and shoulder that you would surely scold him for later. Not particularly caring, he grazed his teeth gently along the column of your throat to make steady work on another one.

Abruptly, you tangled your fingers into his dark mass of hair to tug his gaze up to meet yours; he had to bite back his groan at the state of you. Chest heaving, cheeks flushed, and eyes wild with the thrill of what you two were doing—you would be the gods-damned end of him.

“What do I have to do to get you to go any faster,” you rasped breathily, although seemingly annoyed he knew you were loving every second of this.

His eyes glinted. “Nothing—absolutely nothing,” he said, sinking two fingers knuckle deep in you. He thought he was going to lose it at the most beautiful moan that he provoked from you. But he somehow maintained his lazy pace, much to your despair. Though his fingers were certainly granting you the stimulation you were begging for, especially when he’d curl them ever so slightly; forcing you to grip his back to find any sort of sanity left in you—it wasn’t enough.

“Ah—please,” a sigh, “Kuroo—I need,” a broken moan, “Tetsu—please.”

There was a limit to his teasing, and it normally broke right around the time he successfully made you into an incoherent mess. So, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants, he swiftly tugged them off you to reveal some simple panties leaving him a bit breathless—god you were gorgeous, and you were his. “You know,” he drawled, pulling them slowly down, “I’ve wanted to ruin you on one of these tables since the day I met you.”

He watched color bloom along your neck, using your hands to cover your face in embarrassment. “Oh, stuff it,” you scoffed.

That wouldn’t do. Prying your hands apart, he forced you to look at him. “I mean it,” he said, rising from being hunched over you and striding over to his backpack. “I’ll prove it.” You lifted yourself to your elbows to watch him rifle through his backpack before extracting a small rectangular package. “This definitely hasn’t been in my backpack since the first week of school.”

A smile rose to your features. “Please tell me you’ve at least replaced it since then.”

“Of course, I have,” he said, leaning over you once again; his warm breath fanning your face. “I’m not an idiot.”

Now a laugh bubbled up from your chest and fucking hell—it struck him that he was the luckiest man alive to have this stunning, smartass, genius person in his life. “Well?” You prompted, trailing a hand down his chest towards his groin. “Are you finished teasing me?”

He settled his hands at your waist, thumbing the hem of your underwear. “Me? A tease? Never,” he said planting a kiss to your neck.

“You’re insufferable.”

He just grinned devilishly before swiftly removing his own clothing, finally letting his painfully hard cock free from the confines of his pants. He let you nimbly roll the condom on, taking an extreme amount of mental fortitude not to shudder at your touch; before practically ripping your underwear off. He didn’t bother with easing into it, the two of you already fairly comfortable with each other, and judging by the deep moan filling the room—you wouldn’t have been too pleased with anything less than him sinking his entire length into you.

Bracing his forearms on the table on either side of you, he moved his hips; breath coming out in short bursts as he tried to grasp at his last thread of control. “Tetsu,” you purred— causing his grip on that control to slip. “Fuck me.”

A growl ripped from him, any inkling of control dissipating with it. He slammed into you, his thighs trembling from how exquisitely tight you were around him; your nails raking down his spine and head thrown back in pure ecstasy. If someone walked in on the two of you, he didn’t think either of you would notice or care. He picked up on your body language; toes curling, grip tightening momentarily on him, and breath shortening; he didn’t let up.

Continuing to pound into you, deeper with each thrust, hitting you just right—your eyes rolled back into your head before completely shattering in his arms. Limbs twitching as waves of pleasure wracked through you; you could barely hang on to him with the force of your orgasm coursing through you. He just took your face into his hands, kissing you; stealing your breath—the motion of his hips showing no signs of slowing. Until he abruptly stilled, legs shaking, panting against your neck; his cock twitching inside you.

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then lifted his head to meet your gaze, and you both start chuckling at the situation you’d put yourselves in. Both of you panting between laughs, he finally said, “I can’t believe I convinced you to do that.”

You shoved his shoulder as he pulled out, a sheepish grin on your face. “Shut up.” Wincing at the twinge of soreness in your thighs from having them wrapped around him, you stood, and in a flurry of skin and clothes, you straightened yourself motioning for him to do the same. You shoved his backpack into his arms, ignoring his amused expression; slung yours over a shoulder and then dragged him from the lab—intent on studying the rest of his anatomy for the remainder of the night.

#kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou imagine #kuroo tetsurou scenario #kuroo imagine #kuroo scenario #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine

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intothestarkerverse · 5 years

Text

Time Of Our Lives (Final Part)

Based on a prompt from @geekymarvel

Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time. Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990’s, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter’s attempts to deny his advances a challenge. Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won’t take no for an answer, Peter’s task has become much more difficult….

(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Read on AO3

It wasn’t what he was expecting. But, then again, Tony had only a lifetime of Science Fiction from which to pull any frame of reference for an alien civilization. He had been busy picturing Doctor Who, Star Trek, Star Wars…none of them really prepared him for the real deal.

The Old Man, on the other hand, had seen plenty of aliens, at least from what Tony could see of his memories, glimpsed in stolen flashes as he took in their surroundings. Judging from Peter’s body language, he was just as awestruck and terrified as Tony was…and he’d been to space! There was nothing Tony wanted to do more in that moment than reach out for Peter’s hand, give it a little squeeze of reassurance and remind him that they’d already done the hard part…getting the Nullifier to even work. This was going to be a piece of cake compared to that.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t because the Old Man was the pilot and he was the passenger.

The Heart of the Universe was beautiful: an impossibly large orb of light, the golden glow of which seemed to shift and shimmer and dance in a ceaseless movement. It spun and twirled, hovering several feet above the floor perfectly in the center of the cavernous room in which they found themselves by the whims of the Stones. One moment they had been in Tony’s bedroom, and the next…they were standing in an alien space station light years from earth staring at the origin of the Big Bang and the very universe itself.

Even without being in control of his own body, Tony could feel the anger radiating off of Peter. He’d never seen the boy’s beautiful features set in a look of such pure fury before. The fact that it was all for him, well, that made it all the more gratifying. The Old Man, though, he didn’t find it gratifying. There was a calm resignation there, something Tony had difficulty understanding. The Old Man had been expecting it, the fury, had prepared himself for Peter’s anger and was trying to convince himself that it was all for the greater good.

‘Maybe you’re greater good, Old Man, but not ours.’

“Shut up.” It was spoken aloud but softly, directed at Tony’s inner turmoil and not at Peter. If Peter heard, he didn’t react.

No, Peter was transfixed by the Heart of the Universe and Tony was transfixed by Peter. He could see the Heart reflected in the boy’shoney brown eyes. Old or Young, there was no distinction between the past or present version of the billionaire as they stood united in appreciation of just how beautiful the boy looked in the aura of creation itself. If Tony had ever doubted that the Old Man had been secretly harboring feelings for Peter all this time, he had his answer now. The Old Man loved him almost as much as Tony did. Almost.

It was a strange sensation, giving up control of his body to someone else. Tony could see, hear, and sense everything happening around him…but at the same time, every experience seemed to be coming to him dampened, as if he was coming off of a long night of drugs and alcohol…only just beginning to sober up. The Old Man’s thoughts echoed at the fringes of his consciousness, glimpses of memories rippling over him in waves and secondhand emotions washing over him like a warm spring rain.

There was an anger and a desperation to Tony, now, even more than there had been before. The prospect of losing not only Peter but his memories of their time together was a fate too terrible to contemplate. He had to do something, to find something, but his time was so very limited. It was stranger still to feel something tugging at the edges of his thoughts, an urgency that was not Tony’s but had to come from the Old Man’s mind. An urgency and something else.

Igor Novikov.

The name bounced through Tony’s thoughts again, unbidden, as it had a dozen times since the Old Man’s encounter with Peter…whispered on the subconscious of the parasite controlling Tony’s physical form.

Igor Novikov?

He was a physicist.

Tony recalled reading a paper by the man at some point in the wunderkind’s time at MIT. But what was it about, and why was it so damned important now?

Igor Novikov?

Tony’s thoughts were interrupted by a blaring noise overhead. An alarm.

Peter’s eyes widened as he looked over his shoulder at Tony and the Old Man. “I guess they know we’re here.”

“Guess so.” The Old Man dropped to one knee, resting the Nullifer on the ground in front of him. “Cover me while I get this started. We have to protect the Nullifer until all six stones have been reconstituted. They’ll disappear as they reform to locations I’ve already designated and enact the final protocols when the last Stone is safe. We have to make sure nothing interrupts this process, and we have to make sure that the Celestial Order doesn’t get the Stones.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t want anyone getting the Stones, Peter. Not ever again.”

Peter just nodded, head swinging towards the sound as the doors to the chamber opened.

‘Holy fuck.’

Tony wanted his body back.

He wanted it back.

Needed it back.

He couldn’t let Peter go up against those things alone.

“He’s not alone, he has me, and I’m a hell of a lot better at this than you are.” The Old Man’s voice had bite, but he also had a point. Tony really only had a rudimentary idea of how this armor worked. Not that he wasn’t already probing the Old Man’s memories for more information about it, not that he wasn’t prepared to fight with nothing but fists and sarcasm if that’s what it took to save Peter…but as much as he hated to admit it, the Old Man was better equipped to keep Peter safe.

“Just relax, Baby Stark, I’ve got this…and you have other things you need to be doing right now. Igor Novikov, kid. Igor Novikov.”

What the fuck did he care about a quantum physicist when the love of his life was about fight those things?

They were huge.

Fifteen feet tall at least. Thick limbed and colorless as if they were absorbing the entire spectrum of light making their forms so dark to the eye that it actually hurt to look at them. Their movements were strange, every swing of an arm or movement of a leg followed by a shadowed trail that dissipated slowly behind them.

Tony could hear Peter audibly gulp into the coms. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Stark, keep them busy while you make the Stones. Okay. Got it.”

Tony wanted to watch Peter, but his eyes were trained on the Nullifer and there was nothing he could do to make the Old Man turn away. He heard the boy whoop softly, the sound of something moving by them very quickly, and then a few seconds later a resounding crash from somewhere to the right. Tony cursed internally as he watched the Old Man inputting the data and waited for the machine to whir to life and begin slowly printing the energy it was gathering into a small green gem. Only then did the Old Man look up and afford Tony his first glimpse at the fighting going on around them.

Peter was swinging around the room at a breakneck speed, barely missing a swinging arm, flipping over one of the monster’s heads, sliding gracefully between their legs and then bounding across the room. There were three of those creatures in the room now, and somehow Peter was managing to keep all of their attention trained on him. Anytime one of them would begin to look in Tony’s direction, the kid let out another whooping call and a piece of the room went sailing by the creature’s head. Several pieces of the room’s paneling were already missing and Peter had tugged another piece free in order to chuck it at one of the creatures as it tried to lumber in their direction.

This time as Peter made a dive for the creature, it managed a land a hard blow, knocking Peter backward. He flew through the air, crashing into the invisible barrier around the Heart of the Universe with a popping, burning sound that caused sparks of energy to cascade from his suit in a frightening rain before he collapsed to the ground with a groan.

They had to help him! Why wasn’t the Old Man helping him?

Tony cursed as his gaze left the boy to return to the Nullifer. It shut off, a shimmering gem sitting in the cradle of the machine. It remained there for a moment before it blinked away and the Old Man typed in a new set of algorithms.

‘Fuck the Stones, help Peter.’

“What do you think I’m trying to do, Baby Stark? This has only ever been about Peter. There were other ways to get this done, but only one where Peter got what he deserved…now get your head out of you ass, Kid, and get to work.”

Peter must have picked himself up off the ground, because Tony could hear the kid fighting again, though somewhat less animatedly as before if the sounds of battle were any indication.

It was only when a piece of the space station’s paneling struck the ground several inches to their left that the Old Man jumped and turned to look over his shoulder.

Peter wasn’t keeping them all occupied anymore. He was trying. Valiantly. But it wasn’t working and they were now lobbing discarded pieces of ship at Peter and Tony. They had Three Stones done now, the machine was working on the fourth. They had to hold them at bay a little longer but Tony greatly doubted that Peter was going to be able to keep this up much longer.

“I know.” The faceplate came down, obstructing Tony’s view for a moment before the computerized displays took over.

“What can you tell me about these guys, Friday?”

“Boss, initial readings suggest that they’re composed of densely packed energy contained around a biological nucleus with an electromagnetic epidermis.”

‘What the fuck?’

“Aliens.” The Old Man grunted, “Just when you think you’ve seen it all…” He shook his head, firing up the Repulsors in his gauntlets.

‘Woah, Old Man, wait…’

Before Tony could even finish thinking his warning, the Old Man had fired a shot at the approaching behemoth. It struck but seemed to have no ill effect. Instead, the alien appeared to absorb the energy and midst the flow of surging darkness, a single strip of familiar white light spun through it’s body before it collected in the creature’s hand and shot back at them.

‘Yeah, don’t shoot energy at energy monsters. I’m not an alien expert, but even I know that.’

What was worse, perhaps, was the swirling white energy that began to take shape on the skin of all three monsters. Apparently, it only took a taste for them to duplicate the energy signature of the Arc Reactor and the Repulsors which…was really unfortunate for Peter and Tony.

Fourth gem complete.

Cursing all the while, the Old Man was forced to drop again, diving out of the way of a shot with the Nullifer cradled in his arms as he typed in the algorithm for gem number five.

All around them, energy beams were raining down on them. Peter was barely keeping up a rushed succession of tumbling passes and swings around the room, still valiantly trying to draw their fire. In a desperate effort to keep them away from Tony, Peter had worked his way close to the Heart of the Universe and had experimentally tried to lob a few shots of web fluid at it. The webbing hit the shield and disintegrated with a popping, hissing, burning…but his actions succeeded in drawing the creatures away. At least for a moment.

Fifth gem complete.

One left. Just one. They were in the home stretch…

And the creatures seemed to sense it. They turned again in the direction of Tony and the Nullifer, focusing their attentions and their energy blasts not at Iron Man, but at the Nullifer. Spider-man was only just able to fire off a strand of webbing and pull the machine out of the way of a blast that would have no doubt fried the circuitry and left them well and truly shit out of luck.

Peter paused, Nullifer now in hand, mask vanishing away as he regarded Tony. “Keep ‘em busy for a second.”

“Peter, what are you…”

The kid was wrapping the Nullifer in a layer of webbing.

“What is he…”

‘Farraday cage. He’s making a Farraday cage.’

The Old Man drew up short, watching as the kid exhausted his webbing supply making alternating layers of plastic and conductive webbing a cocoon around the Nullifer. It was genius really, and Tony was offended that the Old Man was surprised by Peter’s ingenuity. The Farraday Cage would protect the Nullifer from the creature’s energy blasts long enough to finish that sixth and final gem…

“That’s going to leave him defenseless.”

‘No shit. We’ve gotta finish this. Fast.’

“One gem left. That’s all we need. One gem…and Igor Novikov.”

What the fuck was up with the Old Man and Igor…Igor Novikov! He remembered now!

Self Consistency Principle. It was a theory in quantum physics that postulated that any form of time travel that resulted in a temporal paradox was impossible. He had suggested that the laws of physics would prevent a time traveler from altering the past in the same way that the laws of physics prevented the average human being from walking through walls. It was similar in vein to the Grandfather Paradox, suggesting that time travel was unlikely because it would be impossible to go back and kill one’s grandfather because then the grandson would not be born and the grandfather would not be killed which would result in the grandson being born and going back in time to murder the grandfather.

Was the Old Man trying to convince him that resistance was futile, that physics itself was going to force Tony to forget Peter…or was he missing the bigger picture here?

Unless…If those theories held any water, than it would suggest that Peter had always come back to 1992. There was never a time when Peter was not an active participant in everything that had transpired since the gala. He had always had this encounter with Tony, and then what?…Tony had forgotten it? Every time? To prevent paradox? At the behest of the Stones. Stones that he had wielded, Stones that were wielding him. Surely, then, Tony had recovered his memories of Peter upon his death…? And yet…as Tony tried to probe the other man’s subconscious, the earliest memories of Peter he could find were of an encounter in the boy’s apartment before the trip to Germany. Nothing in 1992. Very little in 1992 at all, actually. It suggested the drugged out haze that the Old Man had been threatening to use to replace his memories. Could the Stones make him forget Peter so completely that even with a re-introduction to the Stones…the memories were lost? Wouldn’t the Old Man have used the Stones to get those memories back before sending Peter to 1992? Unless they weren’t his memories at all…but how? If he’d never met Peter in 1992 and Peter had always been present in 1992…

Oh.

The equation clicked. He’d solved for X. It all made sense now. He understood. He understood what had happened and what needed to happen. Self Consistency Principle. The solution that physics itself promised.

“Good job, Baby Stark, I knew you had it in you.”

Tony’s thoughts ground to a screeching halt as his voice echoed through the vague tunnel of his perception.

The Old Man.

Fuck.

He did a damn fine impression of Howard Stark when he wanted to.

“Why thanks, Kid. If there’s one person I know how to motivate…it’s myself.”

‘It was all an act? But why?’

“The Stones have to be reconstituted to save the universe, but giving the Stones physical form again also makes the universe vulnerable to their powers. The Stones are sentient. They want to be used. They don’t want to be locked away on places like Vormir. They are always going to find their way back into the hands of those who would wield them…whether for good intentions or bad. That can’t be allowed to happen. Something…someone…has to both heal them and stop them simultaneously.”

Damn, did the Old Man always have to be the hero?

“Even in death, Baby Stark.”

‘Fuck.’

That was going to be a lot to live up to.

“You have it in you, Kid, believe me. You have it in you. Besides, I can’t do this alone. The Stones won’t let me do what needs to be done to make sure the universe is safe.”

The Old Man’s gaze turned pointedly to the Heart of the Universe.

Tony stared, barely comprehending. What did the Heart of the…

Oh.

Oh shit.

He’d known all along that Tony was going to ask for an override. After all, who knew Tony better than the Old Man himself? He knew Tony would ask for an override and he knew that Tony wouldn’t waste it. Because they were going to need it.

Now.

‘All right, Old Man. All right.’

Tony took a deep breath, through his own volition this time as the Old Man was pushed back and Tony was allowed to take control of his own body once more. It felt strange, like being hungover, but he pushed through the headache and the nausea and the discomfort. His gaze sought out Peter who had fallen to his hands and knees on the ground beside his Farraday cage. He looked up, somehow recognizing that Tony was once more in control through nothing but that single look. His gaze was so tired, so hopeful, so sad. He held out his hand to Tony but all Tony could do was shake his head. There was no time for that. The creatures were descending on them now and the last gem was almost complete. There was no time.

It took a monumental effort, but Tony turned away and used what rudimentary knowledge he had of the armor that he’d gleaned from the Old Man’s memories to fire it up and maneuver it clumsily towards the Heart of the Universe. He didn’t worry that the containment field would stop him. He knew better.

It had taken thousands of years for the Celestial Order to realize they couldn’t access the Heart of the Universe. It had taken Tony Stark only thirty seconds to understand why.

The last thing he heard before he dived head first into the wellspring of creation was Peter screaming his name…

* * * *

The sound of the Imperial March jarred Peter and he sat up straight in his bed, looking around his room in confusion as he realized that he was home. Home in 2023. Home where Tony was dead and he’d lost five years and now he’d lost the love of his life, too. It hadn’t been a dream, either. There could be no doubt. So the machine was done, the Stones were safe, the universe would keep on existing all because of the sacrifices he and Tony had made, and no one was ever going to know. No one was ever going to know, and all Peter had to show for it was a broken heart.

Tony was gone.

Mr. Stark was gone.

He’d lost everything…

Even though Peter was angry at May for making him go to school despite the way she’d found him that morning, buried under blankets on his bed, crying and unable to even begin to explain why, he couldn’t really blame her. For all she knew, he was still upset about the Old Man dying. She had no way of knowing about Peter’s Tony, about 1992, about everything he’d experienced and everything he’d lost and he wasn’t sure he was ever going to have the ability to tell anyone else about it. Ever.

“You look like someone kicked your puppy, Parker.” Peter flinched visibly, not even bothering to look up at Michelle as she unceremoniously took the seat beside him on the school stairs. Classes weren’t going to start for another fifteen minutes and as was typical, the student body was taking whatever free moments they had outside of class to socialize. Peter had taken a seat on the steps with his backpack leaning against his legs and had been struggling to keep his composure in the midst of all the normalcy taking place around him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to break things. He’d given up everything to save this existence and no one was ever going to know or care. He was alone in a way he’d never been alone before, worse even than when no one had known that he was Spider-man. “What’s the matter, Parker? You and TJ stop being pukingly adorable long enough to have some kind of lover’s spat?”

Now Peter was looking up at her like she had three heads. “TJ?” Who the fuck was TJ?

“Yeah TJ.” Michelle pulled a face, reaching out to smack Peter’s forehead with the butt of her palm a couple times. “You remember TJ? Your boyfriend. You never shut up about him and pretty much the only time I don’t see the two of you together being so sweet and adorable that you give me relationship diabetes is when we’re at school. That TJ. You okay, Parker? You get a head injury during that ‘internship’ of yours, last night?”

There was a cold knot of dread settling in his stomach. Maybe despite the Stones’ efforts to keep the future intact, they had managed to miss something…because Peter had most definitely not had a boyfriend when he’d gone to sleep the night before in 2023. Or ever, actually. Not in the present anyway. A part of him wanted to pull out his phone, to check the photos in his camera roll and social media. Whoever this TJ was, if they were as serious as Michelle seemed to think they were, than he’d be able to find some photographic evidence and put a face to the name. At the same time, though, even the idea of having a boyfriend so soon after losing Tony felt like a betrayal. He didn’t remember the guy. He certainly didn’t feel anything at the mention of his name, and he couldn’t bring himself to look the guy up, either. Not yet. Peter had turned off his phone blindly that morning as his alarm sounded and hadn’t bothered to turn it on again since.

TJ was apparently not a student at Midtown, so he could wallow in his grief over losing Tony during the school day and deal with this mysterious boyfriend later. He just didn’t have the energy to do it now. It was taking everything he had just to keep himself together.

If only Ned and Michelle would get the memo.

They brought up TJ several more times over lunch and between classes. Apparently, Ned was just as concerned that something had happened between them as Michelle was, since apparently that could be the only explanation for Peter’s long face and depressive demeanor. Peter just let them believe what they wanted to believe. It was easier than trying to come up with a different excuse.

Ned had declared that they were going to go back to his place after school and work on his latest Lego venture to get Peter’s mind off of ‘the fight’. It was the kind of wonderful thing that Ned always did for Peter. It was why they were best friends. But today…today Peter didn’t want to get his mind off of anything. He wanted to go home and be alone in his room where he could find out if the Baby Monitor Protocol had retained any recordings from his trip to 1992. He wanted to see his Tony’s face. Hear his voice. Something.

Unfortunately, the world itself seemed determined to piss on him today.

May had Happy over. Just the thought of seeing them together made Peter shudder. So, instead of hiding in his room, he was forced to take to the rooftops in his suit. He still had no intention of patrolling. He wanted to find some nice, quiet rooftop somewhere and wallow in his own despair.

“Peter, you have an incoming communication from…”

“Karen,” Peter didn’t even care who was trying to flag him down on the radio. He wasn’t in the mood for Avengers business. Not today. “I already met my quota for saving the universe this week. Just…ignore all incoming calls, okay?”

“I think you might want to take this one, Peter.”

“I said, no.” He fell back against the roof with finality, staring up at the sky. “Karen, just…enter silent mode, okay?”

“Okay, Peter.”

Was it possible for an AI to sound sad and rejected, because Karen did. Peter almost felt bad about it. Almost.

He had no idea how long he laid there, crying and replaying every second of the time he’d spent with Tony in his head. He’d put on a playlist of sad songs from Spotify that were currently echoing loudly beneath his mask. It wasn’t as if he needed to worry. If anyone or anything bad was going to bother him, he’d know and the Manhattan skyscraper on which he had taken refuge was high enough to afford him some semblance of privacy.

All Peter wanted to do was relive every kiss, every laugh, everything. He’d lost five years with the modern world, but he’d gained six months in 1992 that were beyond priceless. The happiest time in his young life. Nothing else was ever going to compare…he wanted to be sad and wallow in his grief and take comfort in sad songs and memories and forget that the rest of the world even existed…

Something shook Peter’s shoulder, hard, and he let out a strangled cry of surprise as his eyes snapped open. So much for Spidey Sense!

He let out a much louder scream when he saw what was hovering over him.

Was he officially crazy? Had he made a break with reality?

No.

It was probably just one of the Iron Legion. Pepper must not have turned them offline.

Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. was using them now. Yeah, yeah. That made sense.

Peter’s scream had been accompanied by his reflexive spring to action. He was now crouched several feet away from the armor while his heart pounded so loudly in his ears that he thought there was a helicopter overhead for a split second. But, no. No. He turned off the music filtering into his mask and slowly rose to his feet.

“Who sent you?”

“Nobody had to send me, Pete. You’re a hard guy to get a hold of, you know that? You had your phone off all day. I was worried about you. Seems like the only way we were going to talk was face to face…” The armor spread it’s hands in front of it in a displaying gesture. “So here I am.”

“Muh…Mr. Stark?”

Was he not dead? Had the future changed that much? Maybe the Stones had really failed and…

The Iron Man mask retreated to reveal a very stern expression. “You did not just Mr. Stark me again!”

Peter let out a strangled cry, half stumbling-half falling across the rooftop with arms extended. His hands found purchase on Tony’s face and he whimpered. “Tony? Are you real? Really real?”

“Course. Sweetheart, I told you I was going to fight for you. You’ve been back all of what, twelve hours? You really gave up on me that damn fast? I’m offended, Pete, really I am.”

“I thought you were dead…”

“Nope, very much alive.”

“I thought you forgot me…”

“I could never forget you, Baby. You’re the only thing in my life worth remem…” His words were cut off by Peter’s lips as he attempted to devour Tony. Hands still braced on the sides of the billionaire’s face, Peter’s mask had dematerialized a moment before he descended on the man. His grip shifted, fingers finding purchase in thick black hair as his tongue licked desperately at Tony’s mouth. The billionaire let out a hungry moan, dragging Peter in as close to him as he could, separating from him only enough to suck in a breath and begin an assault of his own.

“We need to go…I need you…” Peter had never needed anything so much. He hadn’t known it was possible to desire someone with so much intensity. After thinking that he’d lost him, after convincing himself that the man was dead and gone forever…to have him in his arms again was more than Peter had ever thought possible. He was desperate to reclaim Tony both body and soul, to prove to himself that the man was real, flesh and blood, and that he was all Peter’s.

“Your place?” Tony asked breathlessly with a devilish smirk.

“Nope. May’s there…”

“Mine then. Hold on, Hot stuff, I’m not too good at this yet.”

Peter squealed in surprise as the Iron Man suit took off. It dipped dangerously as Peter almost shot a strand of webbing at another skyscraper to prevent a fall to their deaths. Holding onto to Tony for dear life, the teenager could only watch with wide eyes from behind his reconstituted mask as he was flown back to Tony’s place… “Wait, I thought you sold…”

“He did. I bought it back. Can’t have someone else in Stark Tower, that’s…sacrilege.”

“Avengers Tower actually…”

“Yeah, we’ll see…”

Peter giggled, holding his breath as they landed on the Helipad and the Iron Man armor melted away. Peter was quick to shed his suit as well. The moment both armors were gone, Tony had dragged him into another kiss and was leading him back towards the rooftop entry and the Penthouse below.

Clothes were shed in a trail from the door to the bed with pants and underwear being the last to fall somewhere to the side of the Alaskan King. Neither man seemed willing to part from the other for long. Some part of them was in a constant state of contact as kisses and caresses gave way to more purposeful stroking and exploring. After nearly losing each other, both men were anxious to find physical comfort in their reunion.

Fingernails raked over skin.

Teeth nipped at throats and thighs.

Hands curled in and around the most intimate areas of their bodies as passionate cries resounded off the bedroom walls and echoed back to their own hungry ears.

Both men collapsed sometime later after testing the physical limits of their own young endurance. Peter was curled into Tony, holding onto him as if he feared that the man might vanish again the moment he let go.

There was silence for a time, the only sound that of their labored breathing. And then… Peter sat up looking absolutely stricken.

“I…Tony, I have to tell you something…I don’t know how but something we did back there had to have changed something here. I don’t know what or why but I guess…I have a boyfriend now?” Peter was flushed and breathless and embarrassed and hoping that Tony wasn’t going to be angry at this revelation.

“Oh?”

Peter didn’t know if that single word response was a good or a bad sign. Tony was rarely a man of few words, so the teenager was inclined to think it was bad. Very bad.

“I’m going to break up with him.” Peter was quick to add that tidbit, as if he thought that might make it all okay. “Now. I’m going to break up with him now. I just…I have to find his number and I’ll call him and I’ll end it…it’s not really my fault anyway, is it? I wasn’t dating TJ before 1992. I would never choose him over you, ever. I don’t even know what he looks like or who he is…or why I started dating him in the first place but it’s definitely over as soon as I get his number…”

Tony was unnaturally quiet as Peter dangled over the side of the bed to retrieve his jeans and fish the cell out of the pocket. His anxious wait for the phone to boot was rewarded by an unexpected lockscreen. “Oh.” It was an adorable picture of the two of them, Tony and Peter. A selfie in which Tony was kissing Peter’s cheek and Peter was caught in the act of blushing and laughing into the camera. “When did we…how did this even get on here?” Peter tilted the phone for Tony to see, but the billionaire merely shrugged.

“Oh geez.” His notifications were a horror show. “He called me like…God, 72 times since this morning? And 49 texts. Psycho much?”

“He was probably worried about you.”

“Uh, yeah, no. 72 calls and 49 texts in a single day is stalkery, thank you very much. He’s clearly a creep. I’ll just…I’ll go do this in there.” Peter gestured to the bathroom and left the bed, dragging a sheet with him which he tied around his body like a toga and escaped into the bathroom, shutting the tail end of the sheet in the door.

Tony waited patiently, staring at the bathroom door until he heard his phone ringing on the bedside table. He picked it up, thumbed it open, and held it up to his ear as he cleared his throat. “One stalkery, creep, psycho boyfriend at your service, Beautiful.”

There was a garbled sound on the end of the phone and then it went dead and Peter’s head poked out of the bathroom door. “You?”

“Me.”

“You’re…”

“It was the Old Man’s idea of a joke. He knew I’d hate it, the whole TJ thing. Gonna take me years to break people of that habit. I suppose I should have seen it coming…”

Peter crawled back up onto the bed, his phone still clutched tightly in one hand. “I don’t understand.” Now he was looking down, scrolling through his missed messages, staring at photographs on his phone that he didn’t remember taking. So many pictures of the two of them being every bit as adorable as Michelle had suggested. “How?”

“You gonna let me explain how I got here now, Sweetheart?”

Peter nodded, dumbfounded.

For once, the kid didn’t even interrupt as Tony began to explain what it was like to share his body with the Old Man. He explained about Igor Novikov and the struggle he’d had to find the significance, about his own last minute revelation.

“I still don’t get it.” Tony paused and Peter felt stupid even admitting it, but “How could I have always been in 1992? How could Mr. Stark have never known me if I was? How does you being here have anything to do with Igor Novikov?”

Tony smirked, “I’m getting to that, Sweetheart, be patient. Now…you remember what we learned about the Heart of the Universe?”

“That it’s where the Big Bang happened, where the Stones were first made and if they ended up back in it than the universe was going to end.”

“And what did the Celestial Order want to do with it?”

“End war and chaos and make the universe peaceful.”

“How were they going to do that?”

“With the Heart of the Universe.”

“But how?”

Peter paused, cocking his head and considering the question. “I don’t know. I guess…I guess the Heart must be powerful, too. I mean. Well. It was where the Big Bang happened. It was the origin of the singularities so…Maybe it can do things like the Infinity Stones can?”

“It can. I speak from experience.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh! I thought I saw you flying into it…”

“Yeah, turns out the Celestial Order was missing something really important to breach that containment field. I realized that if there was danger in the Stones reuniting with the Heart, than the Stones must be able to break that barrier and enter the Heart. I couldn’t use the Stones, but I had the Old Man with me. He’d used them, was used by them, there must have been enough residual energy to breach the containment field…and that was apparently all I needed.”

“What…what did you do with the Heart of the Universe, Tony?”

The billionaire chuckled. “Created a copy of myself. Perfect clone. All the same memories and experiences, everything down to the most minute atom of my existence except that he had no memory of ever meeting you.”

Peter stared at him blankly for several minutes before things began to click. “Igor Novikov! The Stones didn’t have to erase his memory because I was never in it to begin with…I was always in 1992, I was always with you, but I was never with him…the other you…” Peter gasped softly. “With Mr. Stark.”

“Oh, the Stones erased his memory anyway along with Fury and Happy and about a dozen other people. Protocols and all. It’s just…there was nothing to erase in the Old Man’s memory, really. Anyway. He stayed there. 1992. Lived that whole life you told me about. Became the Old Man. Sacrificed his life to save the universe, yadda yadda yadda. Future unchanged. Paradoxes eliminated. Self Consistency Principle proved. And that freed me to come here.”

“But…how?”

“You paying attention, Pete? I was inside the Heart of the Universe…making a magical copy of myself was easy. Making a place for me in the future was even easier.”

“But…using the Stones killed Mr. Stark, how did you not die?”

“Hard to explain. I think…I think it might have ended badly…probably. When you’re there, in the Heart…it’s not like you’re using power. You are the power…one with the universe. You just…think things and they happen. It’s a religious experience. I’m sure if I’d tried to leave on my own that I would have had a hard time of it, but I had the Old Man’s help and the Old Man had already had so much contact with the Stones by this point…I think he had a bit more resistance than the average human…at least now.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he looked away from Tony, worrying the phone in his lap as he sucked in a few deep breaths. “Mr. Stark helped you? To…be here?”

Tony reached out to gently tilt Peter’s chin up and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “That was his plan all along, Baby. From night one in your dreams and the Gala and…yeah. He helped. Turns out he knows us both pretty damn well and we were pretty easy to manipulate. He was always a dozen steps ahead of us.”

Peter looked positively stricken. “I owe him an apology, Tony. I said terrible things to him. I was so angry…and he was helping us all along. Now I can’t tell him…”

“Believe me, Sweetheart, he knows. I had to leave him behind in the Heart of the Universe so he could make sure that no one like Thanos ever had the chance to use those Stones or the Heart ever again, so he could send me out of it, send me here. He’s one with powers of the universe now…”

Peter’s mouth fell open in shock, gaze flicking around the bedroom as if he expected to see some evidence of the Old Man’s omnipresence. “So…Mr. Stark became a god?”

“I mean…are you really that shocked? Is it that unbelievable to throw a god complex onto my laundry list of psychological issues, Peter? I mean, really?”

“So he’s not…he’s not Earth’s Greatest Defender anymore…”

“He’s the Universe’s. Yeah.” Tony chuckled.

“Okay. That explains…it explains how you got here and all but…but…why is everybody calling you TJ?”

Tony’s laughter died down as he grimaced. “Oh yeah. That. We both, the Old Man and I, agreed that the truth might be…too much for people. We had to think about the kid…Morgan? His wife…er widow. There would be a lot of explaining, a lot of people questioning the ethics and just…it wouldn’t be good. People would have a hard time understanding where he ended and I began, that we weren’t the same person…I want to be free to be with you without dealing with a bunch of bullshit, and I don’t want everyone to treat me like I’m the second coming of the Old Man, because despite our obvious similarities…we’re two totally different people. So, the Old Man and I concocted a backstory and…ceded it through people’s memories, electronic databases, paperwork where necessary to make everything seem legit…”

“Backstory?”

“Yeah. Backstory. So, I guess I’m now Anthony Edward Stark, II…”

Peter covered his mouth to hold back a laugh. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! TJ is Tony Junior!”

“The second.”

“Junior.”

“Do you want to hear this story or not?”

Peter was still giggling, but he waved a hand for Tony to continue. “No no no, yeah, no, I totally want to hear it. I’m sorry…Junior.”

“You’re already making me regret this time travel thing, Peter.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I really do want to hear it, go on. Please.”

“Yeah, okay. So, Anthony Edward Stark, II was born from one of those one and done quickie Vegas weddings that happen after a night of hard core drug use. Annulled within days. The Old Man wasn’t exactly dad material in those days, obviously, so the kid was raised by his mother and wasn’t too big on dear old dad. Cause you know, they say lies based on truth are easier to sell. Howard was never my biggest fan and my relationship with him was always fucked. So, makes sense to make sure my psychological issues are well founded, right? Anyway, so, the kid and the Old Man were never close. But he did give him boarding school and paid for MIT and all that jazz. I mean, he tried to make amends and step up there towards the teen years, but the kid wasn’t having it.”

Peter grimaced. “Wow, that’s grim. So, what, was I some surrogate son to make up for you being a little brat?”

Tony shrugged. “Probably what people think, but who can say, really since this is all a work of fiction?”

“Anyway, we met at a Stark Industries thing…hit it off…started dating…”

“You realize I have no memory of any of this?”

Tony laughed, “Kid, our meet cute is still the same. Or…as similar as we could swing it. Stark Industries Gala, me trying to seduce you, you doing the Spidey thing, fighting the bad guys, impressing the fuck out of me with your skills and your beauty…”

Peter felt himself blushing, “Well, I mean, I guess that makes sense…”

“Yeah. Well. We started dating and then Thanos happened and you were dusted…”

“You weren’t?” Peter looked a little confused.

“Nope.”

“But if you weren’t dusted…in this backstory of yours, you were sixteen when we started dating…and I came back to you like…five years older and we just…picked up where we left off?”

“Pretty much. I mean, I got to have a little bit of say in this backstory, Peter. The Old Man could stick me with a terrible nickname, more than one actually, but I at least get to seem like an amazing boyfriend who literally waited and pined for you for five fucking years until you came back…”

Peter rolled his eyes, “As if anyone is ever going to believe that.”

“Documented proof, baby. Check the internet. Check the tabloids. TJ Stark was off the market for a full five years because he was waiting for his baby to come back.”

“Michelle is right, we’re disgusting.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

“Oh no, I do. I definitely do, but it’s just…it’s wonderfully gross…I’d be gagging if it was anyone else’s love story.”

“Good thing it’s ours then.”

“Uh huh, good thing.” Peter was back to looking at the photos on his phone again. “One problem with this, though…where does this leave Morgan in the will?”

“Peter…come on. You know that at the time of his death, the Old Man was worth well over 40 billion dollars not including non-liquid assets like stock shares and real estate. You can split 40 billion dollars two ways and still have an obscene amount of wealth. So, Morgan really isn’t losing that much. I mean, she is, but she won’t miss it. Besides, she gains a big brother who will fucking murder anyone who displaces a hair on her adorable little head…”

“Two big brothers. Two of them.” Peter pointed at himself and then Tony. “I want in on revenge killings in Morgan’s name.”

“Done.”

Peter smirked, “What about Ms. Potts, though?”

“She can stay CEO of SI for all I care. That was one job I never wanted and she’s done a pretty fucking incredible job from what I’ve been able to tell. So, yeah, Pep runs the company. I’ll just take over the Old Man’s place in R&D because that’s always where I’ve enjoyed working best anyway. When Morgan grows up she can do whatever she wants. Join me. Join Pep. Take over for Pep. Become a SCUBA diving instructor…follow her bliss. No one to stop her.”

“I suppose that doesn’t seem too bad…”

“Nah, I don’t want to ruin the kid’s life. She’s sweet. I like her…just not interested in parenting her, you know? I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. Yet. Oh! and of course your Internship with SI is safe. You’ll even still be working with the head of R&D…”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I was really worried you weren’t going to want me around…”

“Well, you do have a cause for concern, Beautiful. You’re sexy as fuck but you can be a little distracting…”

“Wait. Wait. Wait. I’m distracting? Me. Who is the one who usually does the distracting? Is it me?”

“About half the time, yes.”

Peter pursed his lips, considering this before nodding. “I mean, half seems accurate.”

“Mhm.”

A pause. “And um…R&D at SI is all you’re going to be taking over for Mr. Stark?”

“You mean am I going to be taking over as Iron Man?”

“Yeah…”

Tony held his hand out for Peter’s phone, opening an app and typing in a quick search before he spun it around. “The Old Man is a fucking bastard…”

“Oh. My. God. They’re not calling you…”

“Ironlad. Yeah. As if TJ and Junior were not degrading enough.”

“Oh my god, this is the greatest day of my life!” Peter flopped onto his side, holding his stomach as he laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. “Ironlad! Oh my gosh!”

“It’s not funny. You know how long it’s going to take me to get people to drop the lad in favor of something that doesn’t sound prepubescent?”

“Could be worse. He coulda told you he didn’t want you in the Iron Man armor…”

“Nah, he doesn’t want to leave you or the world without proper back up. He even gave me a few final instructions before we went our separate ways. You want to hear ‘em?”

Peter nodded eagerly, sitting up and leaning forward in anticipation of whatever his mentor’s final pieces of sage advice might entail.

“It’s gonna be hard to move on without Nat and Cap and the Old Man, but we gotta. The world has martyrs now. Heroes who died to save us all. And the world loves a martyr. If the population is ever going to let go of their cynicism towards superheroes and drop things like the Sakovia Accords, it’ll be now. Time to make the world listen to us. Men like Ross don’t want to, but we have to make them hear us. No more blaming the ones who are willing to die to protect this rock of ours. No more pretending that these battles are black and white. No more. They need us, Thanos proved that, and when the shit hits the fan…really hits the fan…we don’t have time to sit around while politicians fight about something they don’t understand. We’re taking the gift that the old guard gave us, and we’re running with it. We don’t have to do this alone. We’ve got Dr. Banner and Barton and Thor. And we have the Old Man…cause if things get bad, really bad, he’ll steer us in the right direction. He’s basically a god now, I have no doubt he’ll find his way back if and when we need him…”

“Yeah, he’s good at that…”

“Listen, Pete, you wanted to be an Avenger…it’s not the team you thought you were joining…but it’s a team that needs you. You want to help me assemble this tribute band, Beautiful? I could use a goody-two shoes with a heart of gold to keep me honest. The Old Man said that was a necessity. Iron Man is always gonna need a boy scout to keep him on the straight and narrow…as long as you don’t have any one-armed skeletons in your closet…”

Peter burst out laughing, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Spiders don’t have skeletons at all actually…”

“Ugh, that was bad, even for you…”

“Oh, hush, Junior, you liked it.”

“Don’t call me that…”

“Call you what, Ironlad?”

“You’re going to send me running back to 1992…”

“You’d never be able to leave me, don’t think you scare me.”

“Oh, I don’t want to scare you, Beautiful. We got a little while before May misses you, right? Because there are so many other things I want to do to you right now besides scare you…”

Light years away within the ever swirling expanse of the Heart of the Universe, Tony Stark allowed himself to revel in his victory over the Infinity Stones and the knowledge that everyone he loved was, in fact, going to be okay.

Everyone was safe.

Everyone was cared for.

Happy endings were assured.

Everything was as it should be.

At least, for now…

Author’s Note:

First of all, I would like to thank you all for taking this journey with me. Your kind words and encouragement have been a tremendous delight to me through the creation process! Everyone’s theories and observations helped me to make this story more well rounded and complete and for that I owe you all a great debt of gratitude!

I fell in love with these characters and this story through the course of writing it and admit that I am loathe to give them up already. So, if you would be interested in following me into a sequel adventure…I can be very easily persuaded to continue these adventures through at least one more story. (Maybe more, who knows!) If this is something that would interest you, please let me know!

I always love to receive prompts (though, as GeekyMarvel can now attest, sometimes I get very carried away with them…..) And heck, if you have ideas for something involving this incarnation of these two crazy kids and this little corner of the Starkerverse…than fuck yeah, lay ‘em on me!

And finally, for all of you who actually cared enough to read my Author’s Note, a very special treat…

!!!! After the Author’s Note Scene !!!!

“Still nothing?”

A grunt escaped the man’s throat as he leaned back in his chair and brushed a hand through his salt and pepper waves. “It’s always nothing, Mary.”

“Until it’s something.”

The man eyed his wife dubiously but managed a half smile. “You’re right. We keep sending out the distress call and eventually, someday, someone is going to hear it.”

Mary gave his shoulders a squeeze. “We never give up, Richard Parker. Not now, not ever. Nothing is ever impossible…”

“Until we accept that it is.” Richard finished the statement, pulling his wife into an embrace. “Too bad we’ll never see that boyfriend of Stark’s again. I’m sure he’d love to know his words of advice have become your own personal mantra, Mary.”

“So much so that we named our son after him…”

Richard’s expression darkened.

“We’re going to see him again, Richard. Peter. We’re going to see him again.”

“He’s practically an adult now, Mary…We missed so much…”

Mary blinked back her own tears. “I know, Sweetheart, but he’s still got a lot of life ahead of him and so do we. There’s a way out of this, I promise you. There has to be…we just have to have faith, and we have to find it.”

“Yeah, and outsmart an evil, billionaire, playboy despot while we’re at it…”

#starker

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