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#maybe you could even address my concerns and help me see with my stupid brain why these aren't issues... but you won't
medicinemane · 1 month
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The problem with people who are "right" because they insist they're right, and the only way to be right is to simply perfectly follow their every dictation on the subject unquestioningly is this...
Ok, let's just take it as a given that you're right... the problem here is that if that's what's right I'm afraid I have to dig my heels into being wrong. If you are as righteous and just as you insist you are then I've got no choice but to be the villain because I can't stand what you're saying I'd have to do to be good
Shockingly I even think it's wrong, which is odd because we've already defined it that you're inherently and unassailably right... yet here we are
Worst part is there's a lot of these things where I'm not even full stop against it, I actually might be on their side if they could stop and address a couple of issues I consider kind of important... but they won't, because they're morally right and don't have time for addressing nonexistent issues I'm clearly just dreaming up
Undoubtedly right they are, the defect must surely be my own... and yet here we are. Vile and wicked as it might make me, I still can't just go along with you
#mm tag so i can find things later#and whatever you think this is about and however you've already decided it agrees with you#I'll say this is about like... minimum 2 topics at very different points in the political spectrum... and probably like 20 easy#so like... it may well be talking about your own behavior on certain subjects#I'm talking about not even being willing to entertain good faith questions#and especially about labeling anyone who doesn't tow your exact party line a horrible person#...the amount of shit where it's like 'you know I actually agree with you... except for this one major sticking point'#'just tell me how we deal with this one pretty big thing and I'm fully on board' and... well actually you're terrible for that#or the amount of places where it's like I agree with your goals; but not your methods but... I don't think arguing would do a damn thing#you've already dug your heels in so deep and maybe you're even right to do it.. but I'll never go along with it no matter what that makes m#and the number of overall good people I know who this post is honestly about#they may well be far better than I am; I've never claimed to be good; quite the opposite#and yet I'm afraid I have to say that... to me you're wrong; wrong in concrete ways#maybe you could even address my concerns and help me see with my stupid brain why these aren't issues... but you won't#because you're right; and you know you're right; and so you'll never be wrong#and this isn't just some idle whataboutism... or maybe it is; I'll never say I'm the moral arbiter; again I could be wickedly wrong#and there's a variety of reasons someone believes what they believe; but... there's often blind dogma at the end#I may be stupid; but I can usually draw a line from my stance to something in the world#maybe it's a stupid nonsense line and I don't see my mental gymnastics... very well could be#but I can draw a line... it's not just circular logic; it's not just bouncing between two points#and I often can actually point to places I'm not happy with how things are or will be... we live in the real world and that sucks#example that... man it's more politically charged than I like getting; but ok#I really want this Ukrainian aid to pass even though I don't like the Israeli aid attached... but I get that's the only way it's passing#I want the Ukraine aid because I see residential houses getting stuck by missiles; but I don't want the Israeli aid for the same reason#and it comes down to that I think that the aid amount is sufficiently higher to Ukraine to make it enough of a net positive#I could be wrong... but you can at least see my work; I'm coming at it from a perspective of bombing civilians is wrong#I could be stupid; I could point to two people I know on here who would tell me I'm stupid for at least one part of this... probably all#yet there it is... and... it'll be hard to convince me otherwise
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ssplague · 3 years
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Chapter Two
A rough start we get off too
Series Masterlist
Katsuki B. X Reader
Rated M
⚠️Warnings: SMUT, improper use/depiction of certain kinks, abusive, manipulative, toxic behavior, unreal ideals of sex, use of daddy, ddlg themes, hard Dom, etc.
Let the SMUT commence
The way each pair of lips fit so perfectly together was absolutely enthralling: Passion was raw, ferocity was made so obviously evident from the growl he emitted at each attempt you made at sucking his tounge into your mouth. Only separating to take in a few large gulps of much needed oxygen, before diving back in to repeat the process over again.
“Please….P-Pleaseee…Kat..Suki…I-“ he presses a finger to your lips. That brief period of oxygen deprivation seemed to of induced a delirium of sorts. Assessing your thoughts has become similar to sifting through wet sand; Try as you might, you just can’t seem to comprehend what exactly you’d been attempting to beg him for in the first place. This look of empty headed confusion is also something Bakugou commits to memory, a first glimpse of his dumb little girl. He surveys you with bemused interest, looking as composed as ever.
“Down that bad for me hah? All I did was kiss ya a little and you’re already falling to pieces on me” the finger on your lips slides down to tilt your chin up, while he dips his head down to whisper in your ear. “Cant even imagine what kinda mess you’ll become once I finally split cha open with this big cock, such a stupid little girl”.
You suck in a deep shuddering breath as your legs suddenly give out beneath you, leaving you helplessly sliding down the wall. Bakugou laughs in such a condescending baritone as he effortlessly picks you up and deposits you on his bed. Picking his chair back up, he moves it beside the bed to take a seat in front of you.
“Listen real close to what I’m about to tell ya cause its important, open those fuckin’ ears princess cause if I end up havin’ to constantly keep repeatin’ myself…” he leaves the implicated threat hanging in the air between you two. Swallowing what remains of your now virtually non existent pride: You sit up straight and lean forward slightly, making sure to hold eye contact while he spoke. As the one sided conversation progresses and you inevitably begin to feel the need to either scoff or mouth off, you lightly bite your tounge. When the need to roll your eyes seems irresistible you make sure to blink a few times.
Bakugou and his ego always seem to have a way of destroying any sort of illusion that he is anything other than a self-righteous narcissist. Well, now he’s YOUR self-righteous narcissist…CORRECTION; You cant think like that anymore….from now on he’s….daddy.
The thought accompanies a brief pang in your metaphorical gut, is it regret? Maybe guilt? You aren’t sure.
“-Last ones, your still paying attention right princess?”.
Hearing his question has your eyes immediately snapping back into focus. You take in the handsome (but grumpy) face in front of you, nervously wondering when exactly he’d invaded your personal space.
“Y-Yes daddy, I’m listening to you” you stutter slightly, now noticing he’s actually kneeling on the mattress with you.
“So every day I expect you to do your absolute best” now with each statement he leans further into you, “You’re always going to remember how much daddy cares about you”. He presses a large hand against your chest, forcing your back down against the pillows behind you. “Realize that daddy always knows what’s best for you” both hands now rest on either side of you, effectively caging you in.
“You’ll always know that you can rely on daddy, and will trust him one hundred percent of the time”.
The intensity of his crimson stare has your face burning up, and heart rapidly pounding in your chest. It’s now taking a serious amount of conscious effort to keep your eyes locked with his. “Any questions? Comments?…..concerns?” he puts an emphasis on that last word, wolffish grin firmly in place.
Shaking your head apparently wasn’t a good enough answer because its followed with a stern; “Use your words princess, you either say: Yes daddy or No daddy….understood?”.
“I understand daddy….I’ll follow your rules daddy” you reply, embarrassment evident at having to repeat the unfamiliar word.
“You sure? It’s not like you to have absolutely nothing to say” he’s testing you, you’ll play into it this time.
“Well if you insist…..I do have a question, just one” at this his eyes instantly narrow and you could have sworn you’d seen a few stray sparks emit from his palms.
“Would it be too much to ask daddy if he wouldn’t mind kissing me again?”
🌆
Euphie checks her phone for the eigth time since she’d last texted you over forty-five minutes ago. Why weren’t you responding? Maybe she really had pushed you too far this time….A large hand comes to rest over her much smaller one, at this she finally sets her phone facedown on the table with a sigh.
“She wont stay angry with you forever, her and Bakubro might be having such a good time together that she’s forgotten all about her phone” Kirishima tries his best to reassure with his usual smile. The sudden wide eyed, dead pan stare he gets in return whipes that smile from his now reddening face. He’s realized far too late at what his words seem to of implied.
“I didn’t mean it like that! Really! I promise I didn’t! M’sorry”. Seeing the red head this flustered is so adorable, his companion cant help but giggle.
“I know Eji, dont worry about it”.
Entrusting your care to Bakugou was fine: He cares about you almost as much as she herself does. If she wasn’t certain how genuine the boy’s feelings toward you were, none of this would ever have happened.
Yeah, everything is going to be just fine….You’ll thank her one day.
💥
Bakugou’s crimson gaze is way too intense while roaming over the female laying down on his bed. Having her completely bare, and spread out before him is an accomplishment he shamelessly contragulates himself for. She’s getting self conscious now: Delicate hands come up to cover her chest, and plush thighs press together in an attempt to hide the drooling mess kept between them. It’s all or naught though as her legs are suddenly wrenched apart, and each wrist is now pinned above her head, held in just a single one of his hands.
“Nu-uh princess, no hiding….keep those legs open…wanna see all of you” condescending words only seem to widen his feral grin.
Seeing his cock now freed from its previously strained confinements as its looms above you, standing tall, has your leaky little hole twitching. The smooth inner walls inside repeatedly clenching in anticipation. Bakugou trails a finger from clit to slit as he hums in approval.
“What’s this hah? Such a fuckin’ mess your makin’ down here”
“S-Sorry daddy…I cant help it…Just want you so bad…dont wanna wait any longer…Please dont make me wait more” a soft roll of your hips accompanies your pleading whines. Your continuous begging for his cock has that monster stirring in him again, he has to forcibly push the dark thoughts away before addressing you again.
“If I dont prep you then-“ you interrupt him.
“It’s fine! I can take it, please just take me…” he notices your moment of hesitation before you lock eyes with him while adding “make it hurt”.
You’re just so fucking bold!
Trying to make demands, disguised as requests! Its so cute he cant help but caress your cheek before bestowing upon you the last gentle kiss you’ll get until he’s throughly DESTROYED you for anyone else.
“Dont ever fucking tell me what to do again” he growls before slamming his hips forward.
He’s buried balls deep inside you: Your initial gasp at the sudden intrusion, now morphs into a silent scream that has a you arching up off the mattress.
“Got that you greedy little slut? See what happens?” He taunts through gritted teeth.
Your cunt squeezing and spasming around his cock feels incredible, to the point he has to busy himself with sucking harshly on your neck to keep from releasing desperate whimpers of his own.
“I can take it…please move….m’sorry daddy…please don’ be mad a’me….”
“M’not mad at you baby….s’okay” He manages to reassure you through his clenched jaw. He finally starts to move inside of you, desperately trying so hard to take it easy on you. All precedent falls apart when your legs wrap around his waist, now he’s digging you out.
“Y’okay?” He rasps while continuously ravaging your tight cunt.
“M-mm-more than okay” you stutter.
“Taking my cock so well baby girl….Fucking hell!” His lewd compliment causing your insides to involuntarily clench.
“Deeper! Deeper!” You plead.
Katsuki thought you’d preferred his shallow thrusts, but if you really wanted your guts rearranged he’d be pleased to make it happen. He grabs one of your legs, placing it up on his broad shoulder, while the other remains curled around his hip. Straightening up he smirks down at you, before delivering a harsh slap to your clit. Now beginning to rapidly piston his hips while taunting you: “What did I tell you earlier hah? Answer me dammit!”.
His hot hand comes down on your inner thigh and you cry out: “N-Not supposed t-to tell y-you what to d-do!”. It shouldn’t be possible for you to be squeezing him even tighter, but somehow you do. That can mean only one thing… “Gonna cum aren’t you princess? I can feel ya choking the life outta my cock”.
A pathetic whine accompanies your vigorous head nods and he growls in response: “You.better.fucking.not” a thrust accompanying each word, “Y’dont fuckin’ listen, shouldn’t let ya cum at all with how you keep misbehavin’, better start fuckin’ beggin”.
Horrified at the thought, you fight through the fog permeating your brain and force movement out of your lolling tounge.
“P-please daddy, I’ll b-be good from now on if y-you’ll just let me c-cum! Y-you’re just making me feel so good daddy, no one’s ever made me feel this i-incredible before” your panting breaths making it too difficult to continue speaking. Even if he doesn’t believe it, your words are entirely true, this is the first time you can ever recall feeling like this during sex. A foreign sensation is making its way into your gut, your limbs are moving of their own accord, you cant think straight when you manage to speak next: “Its too much! Too big, Too deep, Too intense! I c-cant take anymore please make it stop!”.
“Stop? Oh fuck no princess, after all this lip you’ve been giving me, you think I’m gonna let you tap out like a little bitch? Think again” his thumb begins to rub harsh circles against your clit. “We’re not stopping until you cream all over my cock like a nasty girl like you is supposed to, then you’re gonna do it again when I blow my load inside this tight fucking cunt and you’ll scream my name while I fucking do it because this pussy is all mine! Got all that you fucking whore?”.
“Yes daddy” you whimper, face screwed up in tight concentration as he finally pushes you over the edge. Your eyes fly open as you blindly search for his hand, gripping it tightly in attempts to anchor yourself in reality as a sudden rush of dopamine floods your brain. White hot pleasure seemingly overwhelming every single nerve in your body, making your legs shiver as you faintly hear yourself calling out his name repeatedly. Katsuki is the only thing you know in this strange foreign place: This comforting warmth suddenly invades your tummy, continuously being pumped inside you while you moan at the newfound sensation.
A pair of strong arms wind themselves around you, pulling you closer, making you feel safe, at ease, loved?
“Come…back…..come back to me” he’s calling for you. Your soul had to of vacated your body; You feel Weightless, you’re floating, “Daddy?”. Suddenly you start sinking, and without warning your body jolts, “Katsuki?!”.
“M’right here princess, daddy’s got you….Disappeared on me for a lil while” his familiar voice is grounding. His fingers card gently through your hair, and for the very first time you’re seeing a “Soft” side to this so easily angered man. Sighing contentedly you snuggle into his chest, letting his caramel scented sweat overwhelm your senses.
“I really like this”
“Hah?! That’s all you have to say?!”
Ah there he goes, moment ruined, illusion shattered.
“I’m sorry. But I’m not entirely coherent just yet…you uh…you kinda did a number on me there” you mutter sheepishly, making an attempt to escape his embrace. Its immediately thwarted, and your pulled right back against his chest. “Ah fuck…knew I shoulda just made you wait and prepped you properly….Sorry about that, guess I just got caught up in everything”. Surely hell has frozen over: Katsuki Bakugou just not only admitted a possible wrong doing, but APOLGIZED for it as well!
“Ive wanted to do this with you for so long: Fuck you, hold you, be with you, and I fucked it up! Just like I always seem to fucking do, I-“
“Daddy” your voice effectively silences his self-depreciating rant. His hand begins to gently run up and down your back as he mumbles a “Yes princess?”.
You lean back slightly, tilting your head up so those cute doe eyes can stare up into his, the smile your wearing makes his chest tighten.
“M’not hurt, sore but not damaged….I wasn’t referring to my body, I meant you did a number on my mind…Besides I asked for it remember? I’ve wanted this for a long time too, so I got impatient…Please dont berate yourself, lets just enjoy this moment as the first of many now…Kay?”.
That’s right, you’re his now; Along with the opportunity to care for and make sure to correct you…he’ll be able to do this with you again. You had given yourself to him after all, so he can have you as many times as he wants, whenever he wants! He’s far too occupied with his lewd thoughts to care about the foreboding darkness thats begun to emerge from its confines within his skull.
You don’t remember falling asleep but Katsuki gently prods you awake: “Baby…wake up, Its dinner time…I made food for us…c’mon princess you need to eat”.
You whine, attempting to burrow further beneath the blankets, “Not hungryyyy...wanna sleep more!”.
“Dont make daddy ask you again, you wont like what happens”.
Not interested in ruining such a wonderful night, you begrudgingly sit up. Noticing he’s seated at his desk, with a large steaming bowl set infront of him. You slide out of bed, standing up and realizing you’re naked, but strangely not embarrassed by it.
“Here” he tosses you a shirt, “Now c’mere, hurry up before it gets cold!”. Pulling his shirt over your head as you pad over to him and take a seat on his lap. Noticing the single spoon and bowl has you looking at him with genuine curiosity. “Since you like actin like a damn baby so much, figured I’d continue treatin’ you like one” his words make you grin sheepishly again, and you hold out your hand expectantly waiting for him to hand you the spoon….he doesn’t.
Taking an impressive spoonful of the steaming food he then proceeds to blow on it before bringing it up to your lips.
“Say ahh, brat”.
“Wha-?”
Taking advantage of the opportunity, he shoves the spoon into your open mouth. Of course it tastes amazing, but he doesn’t plan on keeping this up right? WRONG!
Repeating the pattern of giving you a bite and then taking one himself.
“I can feed myself y’know…” you mutter growing increasingly flustered at the insulting action but more so the fact that its making you feel….excited?
“I dont think you can princess….I always hear Euphie bitchin at ya for skipping breakfast or to hurry up and come eat dinner” pausing to feed himself, then repositioning the now loaded spoon back infront of you before continuing.
“That shit ends today, gonna teach ya how important it is to take care of yourself, and if you wont? Then I guess daddy will have to do it for ya”.
You’re squirming in his lap by the time you accept the last bite,swallowing thickly before making an attempt at vaulting off his lap. Large hands immediately snag you around the middle before your feet even touch the ground.
“No, No, thats not how we do things around here, where the fuck are your manners?” he slips a hand between your clenched thighs to move them apart, and then brings a slap down to the inside of each. You dont even know why he’d done that and the shock is evident on your face. “You like when I baby ya, dont lie to me LITTLE girl”.
“No I-“
“What’s this then?” he quickly interupts while holding up the palm he’d previously slapped you with. Glimmering in the low light is your sticky arousal coating his palm.
“Sorry” your voice is barely audible as you hang your head in shame.
“Mhm sure you are…Here I am being a good care taker to you and what did you do? Sat there thinking all kinds of nasty things while I spoon feed you, you really are a fuckin depraved slut aren’t you princess?”
You bite your lip as your eyes start to water,still refusing to look up and far too embarrassed to respond. A finger beneath your chin forces your head up and his breath hitches when he notices tears getting ready to fall. A malicious smile now turns his lips upward as he cups your cheek, “Look at that…shes about to start crying and all because of what? Cuz you just exposed yourself for being the depraved little slut you are?”.
“NO! No im not I-“.
“You are” his grip tightens painfully on your jaw, pulling your face forward so its now just an inch away from his own, “And I fuckin’ love it”. Then he’s surging forward pressing his lips against yours; Forcing his tongue into your mouth, hand coming around to grip the back of your head. Your lungs are on fire while his hand slips under your shirt to harshly grope at your chest. Clawing his forearms is finally enough to get his attention and he reluctantly pulls away. You’ve just barely began catching your breath when he suddenly stands up, keeping a firm grip on your ass to carry you, before dropping you onto the bed.
“Take that off and-“
*knock knock knock*
The sudden knocking followed abruptly by Kirishima’s muffled shouting, startles both you and Katsuki, and the rattling door knob has you immediately springing into action.
“Hey we brought back desert to share with you guys! So just meet us at my room whenever you feel like it, Euphie’s changing her clothes and then she’ll be there too, we’re gonna watch a movie if you two wanna join us!”.
He must have heard Bakugou’s standard non-committal grunt in response, because you hear his retreating footsteps trail off down the hall.
Grabbing your skirt out from underneath the bed, you stand back up.
Just as you’d gotten to your feet your immediately pushed face first onto the mattress. A sweaty hand takes hold of your hip in a bruising grip, while the other delivers a sharp pinch to your ass cheek. Yelping in response to the sudden harsh yank of your hair that proceeds a whisper of:
“You didn’t really think I would let you off that easy did you? Your fuckin’ cake can wait brat, we’re done when I fuckin say we are, got it?”.
A/N: I hope this chapter was to everyone’s liking, I’m actually kind of nervous to post it but 🤷🏼‍♀️ Chapter 3 has a fair amount of smut in it as well so look forward to that. I’m hoping to get another one shot up for “A man of his word” this week, if you like extreme Yandere Bakugou check that out. I have one penned but it needs to be typed up.
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semisgroupie · 3 years
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Third Time's The Charm
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Club Member!Taichi x Fem. Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism (Oikawa watches), condom usage (i know, crazy right?), praise, many many check ins, safe word mention, characters are college aged (both seniors in college so 21/22)
A/N: this is my submission for the @hqintheclub Haikyuu University Sex Club collab! Read the rest of the works here! I am so thankful for this network and to contribute to the collab, I hope this does a good job in conveying safe sex practices. Also a huge huge thank you to @meiansmistress for beta-reading!!! Yes the safe word is a little tribute to what Taichi does in the timeskip.
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Once Shinsuke called the end of the meeting, Kawanishi stood up and made his way to the front of the room with his clipboard in hand.
“Alright my fellow club members, I’m just going to go over the statistics before the end of the month, who need to go for their STD tests and the notes I took from this meeting.” He adjusted his glasses and flipped through the papers. “Okay, so some recommendations from this meeting are, ‘buy scented toilet paper’ by Tooru. Yeah, not happening.”
A whine came from the back of the meeting room.
“Dude, why not? You know how girls have to pee after sex? They could have something that smells good while they do it!” Tooru’s eyes lit up offering his proposal, just like every other month, only to have it shut down again.
“Buy scented candles or something for your smelly bathroom.” Chuckles and snickers erupted in the room while Tooru sat back and pouted like a child. Kawanishi went through the rest of the recommendations and other areas of concern before moving onto the last topic.
“Okay, so for the fun part. Time to see who has had the most and least sex this month.” The room went dead silent as Kawanishi went over the log book. He did a onceover of the totals before looking at the group.
“So the lucky guy with the most amount of happy customers is… Osamu with eighteen.”
“Huh? ‘Samu? He isn’t even here! Not even a member.” Atsumu huffed and kept on ranting and raving about his brother until Kawanishi interrupted him.
“Actually, he’s an unofficial/official member who does not need to really attend meetings since we haven’t properly officiated his membership. But we definitely need to do that since he’s definitely bringing popularity to the club. Next is Mr. Chairperson Tooru and Mr. President Shinsuke both tying in with twelve happy ladies. Congratulations to the both of you. So, now the two least are—well you guys shouldn’t be surprised as these results have been consistent for a while now. But in good spirit, it’s me with two and Keiji with one.”
A shrug came from Keiji as the results were read. Kawanishi felt the same way, it got annoying every single time he had to read the results. They both knew they had to get laid but Kawanishi had his eye on a special someone.
The meeting was called to an end and Kawanishi made his way to his room to get ready for his chemistry lab. There was only one thing circling in his brain—he had to raise his number, but how? There was that one person he wanted but he wasn’t even sure if she even had plans to use the services the club provided, let alone choose him.
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You were Kawanishi’s cute little lab partner. Always looking at him with bright doe eyes and always greeting him with a huge smile. You were too cute, too innocent to use the sex club. Kawanishi was sure of that. You probably even had a boyfriend so any hope he had for you was gone.
That was until he overheard you talking to your friends.
You were huffing and complaining about your sex life as you stood in front of the lab room—well, lack of sex in your life. You had a cute pout on your face as you rambled on, completely unaware of Kawanishi eavesdropping on such a private conversation.
“My toys aren’t even as enjoyable anymore! I just give up halfway through because it's the same thing over and over, I’m tired of it! And there’s absolutely no way I’m going to find a random guy on Tinder because he could be a creep or just horrible at sex.”
You sighed and started scrolling through your phone while your friend started thinking about what you said. Kawanishi recognized her, he knew her name started with a J and she was with Osamu last week. He remembered her moaning—well, screams—of Osamu’s name. As Kawanishi shook the thought from his head, “J” spoke.
“Remember that hook up I told you about last week?” She waited for you to nod before she continued speaking, “Well, there’s a website I met him off of. I’ll give it to you now and check it out. I think I saw a picture of your lab partner on the site. But check it out and let me know who you pick. Enjoy your class!”
You gave her a quick thanks before walking into the lab room, getting your goggles and supplies as Kawanishi soon followed. You made small conversation but every time you snuck a glance at him, you couldn’t see him as the type to be a part of the university’s sex club. Jay probably got him confused with someone else but for some reason you couldn’t wait until you got back to your apartment.
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You just had to make sure. It was just curiosity. Well, that was what you kept telling yourself when you opened up your laptop and typed the web address in. You were met with the website, seeing the names of all the members and things that they specialized in. While you were scrolling through, your eyes widened and your heart dropped to your stomach.
Secretary: Taichi Kawanishi Specialty: Fingering
“Holy shit. It’s him.”
You read the name over and over again. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep finally getting to you or maybe it was because you unknowingly inhaled some drug that caused you to hallucinate and see his name. No matter how many times you refreshed the screen and rubbed your eyes, nothing changed. His name was still there and so was his specialty.
“Fingering? Well, he does have nice fingers. They are very long.”
You started thinking about his slim fingers, wondering how they would feel on your skin, grazing your most sensitive parts, but before you got too deep in thought you snapped yourself out of it. This was your lab partner! Not some pornstar or prostitute. Not some rando you met on a dating site. You would see him again if you decided to go through with it. How would that change how you two interacted with each other? Would it bring unnecessary tension?
You had this back and forth with yourself all night. You finally made your decision when you couldn’t get yourself off, the toy on your clit no longer bringing the same satisfaction it used to. With a huff you grabbed your laptop and went back to the website. Once the page loaded, you looked through all the guys and their specialties.
“Corsetry? What is that?”
You looked through the rest of the other specialties and you were equally intrigued and confused. You went back to Kawanishi and stared at his name. You didn’t want to ruin anything but you couldn’t stand this any longer—you needed a good fuck and you needed it badly.
“Fuck it.”
You scheduled an appointment with him, Saturday evening, a time where the site said he would be free. You put your laptop away and went to sleep.
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The next morning Kawanishi woke up to frantic knocking on his door. He rolled out of bed and opened the door to be welcomed by Tooru.
“Dude, what the fuck? Did someone die?”
“No but check your phone, someone has been scheduled for tomorrow evening.”
Kawanishi rolled his eyes and checked his phone, the notification woke him up.
“Y/N scheduled me for tomorrow evening?”
“Don’t worry my friend. I will get you condoms. But aren’t you glad I sent you for STD testing on Monday? You can thank me later.”
The rest of the day went by normally, then Kawanishi remembered one of the main rules.
“New members and members who fuck the least need to fuck in front of an official club member.”
Kawanishi went to some of the other guys first, but Keiji and Koutarou both said they couldn’t. Shinsuke had to visit his grandmother and some of the other club members were occupied. That left  only one person.
“Tooru, are you busy tomorrow evening?”
Tooru thought for a few seconds then shook his head. He furrowed his eyebrows in a silent question as to why he would be needed tomorrow evening.
“You forgot the rule, didn’t you?” Tooru kept a confused look and shrugged his shoulders.
Kawanishi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed before continuing. Only if anyone else was free. He would take anyone at this moment over Tooru.
“People who fuck the least in the club need to fuck in front of an official member, and everyone one else is busy so I’m asking you.”
A smile grew on Tooru’s face as he got up and wrapped his arm around Kawanishi’s shoulder.
“Oh my friend, don’t make me seem like I’m the last choice—“
“—you are.”
“Ouch, anyways I’ll be glad to watch. Do you need any tips? All the girls have left with a smile on their face after a night with me. You know I would’ve never thought I’d say this but you should’ve gone to Seijoh or maybe I should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa… I would have gotten you laid all the time, or at least done a better job than stupid Ushiwaka, you wouldn’t have had this little dry spout you’re having now—hey!”
Kawanishi removed Tooru’s arm and walked out of his room.
“Thanks for doing it, I don’t need your help though. If you try coaching me, I don’t care what I’m doing, I will throw you out of the room myself.”
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Kawanishi spent the rest of the night and most of the day Saturday organizing his room, making it neat and stuffing his mini fridge with drinks and snacks. When it was time for you to come over, he waited for you in front of the club house.
As he waited, his nerves were getting the best of him. He hadn’t felt this nervous since he lost his virginity. Before he could really start worrying, he saw you approaching, giving him a small wave before you could greet him with a hug.
“Hey, well first off, thank you for choosing me for this. I should explain that we will have someone watch us, so if that makes you uncomfortable I completely understand. It’s just a rule we have for the club and I can show you the rule book if you need me to once we get to my room.”
“It’s okay. If you don’t mind me asking, who will it be?”
Before Kawanishi could answer your question the man in question wrapped his arms around the both of you.
“Hello you two! I shouldn’t need to introduce myself but I’m Tooru and—oh! I recognize you, Y/N right? I think we had biology together last year. You saved my ass so many times with your notes. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Kawanishi here treats you right—ow!”
Kawanishi pinched Tooru’s side and gave him a mean side eye.
“Tooru, remember what I told you yesterday.”
Tooru raised his hands in surrender at Kawanishi’s warning and you couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction. The sound of your laughter helped calm Kawanishi down a bit. He just had to get it through his mind that you were just a regular person with needs just like him, and he was going to help you satisfy those needs.
Light conversation was shared between the three of you as you all walked to his room. Once you crossed the threshold of his bedroom, Kawanishi took your hand as he led you to the bed and sat next to you. You rested your hand on top of his and offered him a shy smile, leaning in slowly.
“C-can I kiss you Kawanishi?”
He cupped your cheek and closed the distance between the both of you. Your lips felt so soft against his and he couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss. His hand moved to squeeze the fat of your thigh that was exposed by the skirt you were wearing. He broke away from the kiss to sit against his headboard, patting his thighs.
“Come on, come sit on my lap, pretty girl and we can get started. If you feel uncomfortable, your safe word is mojito. Once you say it, I will stop whatever I’m doing and we can just cuddle or do whatever you want, okay?”
You settled yourself on his lap with a meek “yes” before leaning back in to kiss him. Tooru was sitting on the spare chair in the room, scrolling on his phone. It was adorable to see you get so shy. You were always so confident and so outspoken, but once Kawanishi got you inside his room you crawled into a little shell.
He pulled you down to kiss you this time as his hands wandered over your body. His hands moved over your clothed breasts, squeezing them softly, making whimpers leave your lips. He moved his hands lower to your ass, squishing the flesh, and when you bucked your hips into his he gave it a light smack, swallowing the moan that left you. He pulled away to look at you.
“Can I touch you some more? I just want you to feel really good for me.”
“P-please touch me, w-want more.”
He smirked at your stuttering—it made this even more enjoyable. He leaned in and trailed kisses from your lips to your jaw and neck, your hips bucking more. You were so sensitive he couldn’t wait to see how you would react to his fingers. His hand trailed up your thigh and his thumb grazed against your panties. You bit down on your lip, trying to hide your moans.
It was embarrassing to you how quickly you were falling apart; he hadn’t even touched your skin for more than a few seconds and you already felt like once his fingers touched your bare pussy, you would cum.
Kawanishi licked your neck as he slid your panties to the side.
“Are you ready? I’ll go nice and slow for you.” He spoke into the skin of your neck as his fingers rubbed your slick folds.
“Yes, please.”
Your head dropped to his shoulder once he slid his middle finger inside you, moving slowly. He hissed at the way your cunt swallowed his finger, thinking about how it would feel once his cock was buried inside you. He sped up his thrusts, your muffled moans and whimpers encouraging his actions further. He slipped another finger in, leaning back to see your expressions as you quickly lifted your head from his shoulder.
Your jaw went slack as moans kept falling from your mouth, your hips bucking into his hand as you got lost in the pleasure, chasing your orgasm. His fingers were so long and hit so deep. They felt so good, better than any toy you had used in the past month or so. You were embarrassingly close to your orgasm after only a short time.
“Ka-Kawanishi, ‘m close!”
“I know, just cum for me, okay? Cum all over my fingers, let me know how good I’m making you feel.”
He thrusted his fingers faster, using his thumb to rub your clit. He rubbed your back with his free hand while watching all your expressions. Your hands made their way to his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists as you came undone on his fingers with a moan of his name. He slowed his fingers down to help you relax, making sure he wasn’t overstimulating you.
“You did such a good job for me. You look so beautiful when you cum. So good for me. Are you okay?”
“Yes I’m fine,” you reply breathlessly.
“We can stop here. All I care about is you cumming. I could continue fingering you until my fingers turn pruney if you want or I could get you some snacks and water and just talk.”
You shook your head; you couldn’t leave him hard. You wanted to fuck him, and the snacks and drinks could always come later.
“I-I want to fuck you. I want you to feel good too.”
“Don’t worry about me, this is all about you and your pleasure. I’m here for you, okay?”
You nodded as he reached over for a condom on his nightstand. You lifted yourself off his lap slightly to remove your panties and skirt as he pulled off his sweatpants and boxers, revealing how hard he was.
“Okay, so how do you want to do this? I want you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself.”
“I want to ride you.”
You sat yourself on his thigh as he opened the foil package and rolled the condom onto his cock, pinching the tip of it. Once it was on, he placed his hands on your hips to help you guide you down on his cock. His grip tightened, feeling your warmth envelop his cock and fighting the urge to just thrust up into you. He moved you down slowly until you bottomed out.
“You did amazing, now take your time. I’ll help guide your hips so you don’t go too fast.”
You placed your hands on his shoulders as you slowly bounced yourself on his cock, the tip brushing against your g-spot over and over again. Praises kept falling from Kawanishi’s lips as moans kept coming out from yours. Tooru couldn’t help but start palming himself over his sweatpants at the sight of you and Kawanishi, your sweet moans and cries filling the room. Your hands went under your shirt, freeing your breasts from the confines of your bra. You played with and teased your nipples, adding extra stimulation to the pleasure you were already feeling.
The closer you got to your orgasm, the more your legs shook, making him take more control. He bounced you up and down on his cock, thrusting his hips up to meet yours. You felt so good around him and the sight of you playing with your nipples turned him on even more. If he thought you looked beautiful when you were fucking yourself on his fingers, you looked like a goddess now. Your pussy clenched his cock tighter and tighter with each thrust, signalling to him that your orgasm was approaching.
“Cum for me Y/N, cum for me. I know you’re close, I feel you clenching me so tightly. Come on and cum for me.”
Once the soft commands were spoken, you came around his cock, your eyes clenched shut as your jaw went slack letting out a silent moan. As you were riding out your orgasm Kawanishi couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Small beads of sweat rolled down your neck and you finally opened your eyes to make eye contact with him. You leaned down and connected your lips with his once more.
Kawanishi kept thrusting until he filled up the condom with his cum. Once he felt you relax around him, he lifted you up slowly and laid you down on the bed, covering you with a blanket. He pulled the condom off, tying a knot and throwing it out in the trash can in his room. He nodded at Tooru, giving him the signal to leave, and so he did with a wink and a wave.
Kawanishi reached out for your hand and helped you get up as he walked you to the bathroom.
“I just need you to go to the bathroom and then we could watch something.”
You did your business and left the bathroom with a small smile on your face.
“Is there any way we could have this happen again? I don’t know if you guys can have regulars or if it's against the rules.”
Kawanishi chuckled and walked you back to his bed.
“We have no rules about regulars and I’d love to do this with you again.”
He kissed you on the forehead and handed you a water bottle to drink from before laying down next to you.
As he laid down next to you, talking about a random topic you brought up, he finally understood when people said the third time's the charm. He couldn’t have asked for a better person to raise his total to three.
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symphony (arthur morgan x reader)
this story involves smut!! please do not read this if you are not over 18 years old
a/n: not entirely back to writing yet, but i did this and i sorta like it so lemme know what you think. also this is my first time ever writing smut that wasn’t for a roleplay so im super nervous about it. but anyway have a story with my favourite boy 
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It felt like your gut had been ripped open, like there were pins where your heart was before it cracked and shattered into thousands of fragments that would never be found. It was like someone had put a bullet in your skull and it was rattling around, hitting against every nerve and causing as much damage as it went along. 
Your blood turned to ice in your veins at the sight of him. Never had you seen him look so weak. So helpless. How in his voice he seemed okay despite the state of his body – at least two open wounds, his shirt stained multiple shades of red that weaved in with brown from what had already dried. Hot tears stung in your eyes when they studied him. Despite the warped vision, it was obvious to anyone that he was in pain. How his face contorted and twisted whilst Miss Grimshaw washed over his wounds to get a better look. The grunts and curses that left his dried lips were unbearable to listen to. 
Once you tore your eyes away from him, you assessed the others in the scene. Dutch stood at the foot of the table, his arms crossed over his chest and his hands balled into fists so tight that his knuckles whitened and cracked. Every now and again he mumbled words of encouragement or instructions to tell Miss Grimshaw what to do, despite her knowing much more about how to patch someone up. 
Miss Grimshaw had taken charge immediately, as soon as he had been brought into camp by the others on the job. She removed his shirt swiftly, washing his wounds with a cloth and water. Her expert hands cauterised his wounds and though she winced at every sound of discomfort, she knew that she was helping, and so she continued.
Tilly was around helping Miss Grimshaw, running to get things that she needed presently or that she would need, or that she might need just in case. She fed him alcohol for the pain and listened close when she was asked to do something to help.
You? You simply stood there, frozen. Miss Grimshaw had asked you for something, but you neither moved nor even heard her request for your brain was travelling at a speed that caused you physical pain. The noises he made left an awful taste in your mouth, knowing that you couldn’t help despite wanting to more than anything in the world. 
It was about then that Hosea took your hands in his and gently pulled you away with a “Come on, sweet girl.” And though you protested, you let him take you, because you couldn’t do anything else. You couldn’t just stand and watch him as he was an inch away from death. It hurt. Hosea took you far enough away that you couldn’t hear the sounds of pain that each felt like a bullet to the chest.
He held you to him, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Hosea.” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth once you had remembered how to use your voice. The man smiled a fatherly smile.
“Nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.” He assured, though you couldn’t seem to meet his eye. Gently, he squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance. Though, reassurance for what, you couldn’t be entirely sure. “I know you wanted to help. It’s difficult when the people we love get hurt.”
You scoffed. “I… I don’t even know what bein’ in love feels like. But, I guess, maybe…” Trailing off, your mind began to wander just as the thoughts pulled a sigh from your lips. 
“Hosea, I don’t—”
“Do you think I don’t see the way you look at him?” Hosea asked with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused that you had tried to deny his claims. 
“Sweetheart, you look at him like you’re starving and he’s a hot meal.”
“I do?” Your voice sounded so small against the deafening silence. As much as you wanted to deny it, Hosea was right, and he knew it. It was terrifying. “I—I’ve never been in love before.” Startling thoughts began cascading down you. You and Arthur were close, real close. You told each other everything. You could be vulnerable around each other. You were there for each other. Was all of that about to be ruined because you were stupid enough to catch feelings?
“What do I do?” 
Hosea chuckled at that. “Get some rest, sweetheart. Try not worry about him, he’ll be fine. He always is.” While you appreciated his attempt of reassurance, you honestly didn’t feel much better at all. Instead, your brain was flooding with the thought of being in love with Arthur on top of the question of whether he was actually going to survive his injuries. 
You stayed just out of camp for a while longer, until you could hear the noise inside start to die down until it was obvious that everyone was asleep. You crept back in, being sure to not make too much noise, you didn’t want to wake anyone. No, not that, you didn’t want anyone to know that you were visiting him. Grabbing a chair, you pulled it up beside where Arthur’s was body was lay and took a seat. You looked over him, humming lightly, Miss Grimshaw really did a good job of patching him up. Your hands wrapped themselves around one of his, and you simply sat at his side until morning, being sure to move away at least two hours before everyone else woke up.
~~~
A few weeks later 
~~~
Chores. Although you helped out on jobs sometimes, since Arthur and Hosea taught you how to shoot properly, you enjoyed helping out around camp, too. It was the least you could do to help out Miss Grimshaw, considering she saved the man that you loved. Besides, most members of the camp were out either on jobs or shopping, or at saloon, so, you were spending your time washing clothes to help out.
Arthur, luckily, survived his injuries and although he was still recovering, he was back up and out on jobs again. Dutch did make sure not to put him on any dangerous (by his standard) jobs, despite Arthur protesting because he’s fine, it was just a couple of scratches and—Goddamn it, Dutch I don’t need supervision, I’m alright and—
“Careful you don’t rub a hole in that shirt.” A deep chuckle came from beside you. Your head snapped up immediately at the sound.
“Arthur!” You only then noticed how hard you had been squeezing the shirt in your hands and how hard you were scrubbing it against the washboard. Loosening your grip, you smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I—Wait a minute, what the hell are you doing up and around? Dutch told you that you rest today.” A laugh left Arthur’s lips as he held his hands up in surrender. “You should be resting.” With that, you stood, ushering him back to his tent where he could lay down. He took a seat on his bed, looking up at her with a strange expression. Was he… Nervous?
He reached out for your hand, gently tugging you over to take a seat beside him. Instead of letting go of your hand, he held it, his gaze fixed on it. He delicately traced over the veins that peeked through your skin, too delicate, like if he held you any firmer that you would shatter before him. His eyebrows drew together, and you hummed slightly, searching his eyes.
“Arthur? Y’alright?” You asked softly, your eyes furrowing in concern. 
“I’m alright, darlin’, I just…” He took a deep breath. “Going through all that and, not knowing whether I was gonna die, it, uh, it made me realise a couple things. Shit, uh…” 
“It’s okay. Take your time.” You assured, a smile crossing your face. Arthur looked up at you, a troubled look in his eyes that gave you an awful feeling in your stomach. You breathed out through parted lips, ready to take in the bad news that he was about to tell you. His eyes flickered slightly, quickly looking down your lips before he swallowed thickly, looking back up at your eyes.
“It made me realise that, I’m terrified of losing you. And—And I think that I… Shit. I’m in love with you.” Arthur’s face burnt up entirely as he confessed, flushing red from head to toe. When you didn’t respond, only blinking blankly at him, he pulled his hands away from yours, looking away as he rubbed the nape of his neck anxiously. Your hand reached out to cup his cheek, tilting his face back to you where you planted a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. You could feel how his breath was pulled from his lungs as you did so and his eyes lit up, though his face still looked worried.
“I love you, Arthur Morgan. More than anything in the world.” And with that, his lips captured yours in such a way that had your own breath hitching at the sensation. Your lips danced against each other’s rhythmically, and your chests moved up and down in sync. 
You had always loved Arthur. From the moment that he had saved your life in the woods when you first met. This big, scary outlaw meant everything to you. This gang was the closest thing you had to family. No, it was your family. Things had always been different with Arthur, though. Things you had never given a second thought about until now. Longing glances from across camp, touches that were a little too long to simply be considered friendly. Putting his arm around you at the campfire so that you wouldn’t be cold, bringing each other stew so that the other wouldn’t starve. The way he spoke to you; how his voice changed to be much softer when he addressed you. The urgency in his voice when he thought that you were in danger. The way that he always worried about you, just how you worried about him. The way that he looked at you, just how you looked at him.
It all made sense now.
The kiss was incapsulating. In this moment where nothing else mattered, merely you and him. You each opened your mouths, delving your tongues in to dance with the other as your tastes swirled together. He tasted like honey and cigarette smoke, you tasted like wild berries and rum. His hand hovered over the curve of your waist for a few seconds, before he hesitantly placed it down, pulling you close to his chest. Your arms snaked up his chest and wound around his neck. Arthur hooked an arm around your waist, gently lifting and shifting you over to sit in his lap.
You broke the kiss, breathing heavier than usual as you looked at him. A sweet shade of rose covered the cheeks that you gently pecked before stroking with your thumbs whilst you cupped his face. 
“We don’t have to go any farther.” Arthur declared; his voice low despite there being no one around. You breathed for a moment, scared of all the new feelings that erupted throughout your body. Though, the fireworks in your stomach couldn’t be denied. So, you smiled.
“You—Your wounds…” You mentioned, and he chuckled softly.
“Darlin’, I’m fine. But we can stop if you ain’t comfortable.”
“I don’t want to stop.” 
A smile spread over Arthur’s lips at your words and he hummed in response. “Tell me if you wanna stop, okay?” He asked, cupping your cheek, to which you nodded before leaning in to kiss his lips once again. You couldn’t get enough of him. He tasted so good. Whilst your lips worked against his, his practised hands ran over your body and his fingers began to work at the buttons on your shirt, threading them back through the hole before pushing it off of your shoulders. His hands moved up to knead softly at your breasts, rolling your nipples between his calloused fingers which earned a mewl from your throat. 
He pulled away from your lips, jaw falling slack when his eyes fell over your now bare top half. He hummed as his excitement grew, moving your head to the side with his thumb before burying his face in your neck which he peppered with open mouthed kisses and gentle nips that began to purple the flushed skin, branding you to him. With your noises of approval and your fingers unthreading the buttons of his blue shirt egging him on, he began to suck the skin at your clavicle to which a breathy moan was pulled from your throat. 
Shrugging his shirt from his shoulders, you moved your legs on either side of his hips, straddling him. Your fingers gently caressed each of his scars that you felt. He was beautiful. As he continued to leave his mark on you, your hands reached up to tangle in his locks, tugging ever so slightly, but a growl left him, nevertheless.
“Do it again.” Arthur pleaded, his lips brushing against your skin to cause goose bumps. A low groan fell out of his kiss swollen lips when you repeated the action. His large hands cupped your ass, pulling you closer against him, his arousal rubbing against you through layers of fabric that separated you from feeling all of him. You needed to feel all of him. You moaned at the contact, fumbling messily with his jeans while you kissed him, but he pulled away. 
He picked you up, laying you down before he shed himself of the remainder of his clothing. While his back was turned, you did the same. When Arthur turned around, he bit his lip at the sight of you, flushed, sprawled out for him on his bed. He licked his lips hungrily, cock twitching before he lay above you, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips which you held while his hand dug lower. His fingers spread you open, teasing by gently brushing against your clit. He smirked at your wetness.
“Arthur—” You whined. “Please.” He took your endorsement, groaning in delight at the sounds you made when he quickened his pace, curling his fingers inside you. The hot coil began to grow in your stomach, and he watched as you writhed beneath him, moaning deliciously at how good he was making you feel. His cock was painfully hard and ached for release, but he wouldn’t stop until he had brought you over the edge at least once before he fucked you. 
“This for me?” Your hips bucked up in a silent plea for more friction and he chuckled slightly into your mouth before pushing a digit inside you. With a sharp inhale beforehand, you moaned in approval, causing him to add a second finger, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace. 
“So good for me, darlin’.” Arthur’s voice was husky when he spoke, his words wrapped in lust and desire, eyes dark with adoration. His free hand reached up to toy with your nipples, pinching gently, teasingly to bring you closer to your release. 
It wasn’t until your hips bucked uncontrollably and a strangled cry left your plump lips that Arthur pulled his fingers out of you, the hot coil snapping in such a wonderful way that left you aching for more. His mouth opened and closed around his fingers, coated with your juices. When the taste hit his mouth, a low groan rumbled in his chest, and the mushroom head of his member leaked with arousal. 
Arthur didn’t touch himself once until he had brought you over the edge one more time with his tongue alone, and when that hot coil broke in your stomach once again, he lapped up the remainder of your juices, making sure to not waste a single drop by licking along the insides of your thighs for any excess. His cock throbbed painfully from the influx of lust, his hand stroking himself up and down a couple of times before he pushed himself into you. The sound you made from him entering you alone nearly made Arthur cum there and then, but he was determined to make you feel good. After pushing in about halfway, he pulled back out completely, groaning at the sight of your slick on his cock. You whined at the lack of contact, reaching to touch him but he swatted your hand away.
“I don’t think so.” He said with a chuckle before pushing into you entirely. You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulders, loving how he stretched you. “Mm—” Arthur’s hips thrusted against yours once as he moaned at how you clenched around him. “Such a good girl for me.” He set a fast pace, each thrust increasing in power and might, and soon enough an animalistic desire consumed him, his hips clashing against yours. Your names left each other’s lips among curses and beautiful sounds of pure pleasure. Series’ of moans spilled out from your reddened lips.
Arthur kissed you, hard. You could feel the swelling of your lips. The bristles of his unkempt stubble tickled your skin. When your tongues met, you groaned at the taste, your taste. Your nails sunk further into his skin and he groaned at the sensation, his spare hand reached down to focus your sensitive bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb. His cock throbbed against your walls as the familiar feeling began to grow in your stomach once again. He pounded into you with a near primal hunger, your plea for him and your beautiful sounds being the only thing to fill his ears. Arthur made his own share of delicious noises, both of your voices ruined with pleasure though it sounded like the most stunning symphony.
You felt your third climax nearing, the white-hot coil repeating but so much stronger than before. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on you, he made you feel wanted. He made you feel loved. It was nearing closer, and closer and you covered your face to which Arthur removed your hands from your face, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other returned to its spot at your clit.
“Nuh-uh, darlin’. Hafta see you.”
Soon enough, your release washed over you like a wave of pleasure. A ravishing sound forced itself from you, your legs trembled, your body shaking violently from the pleasure. Arthur felt your climax all over him, his body entirely racked with pleasure. As you clenched around him, he pushed in once more and pulled out, releasing with a husky shout that you would dream of for weeks on end. His juices lay atop the bedsheets and he sighed happily, pulling you in for a soft, loving kiss.
Arthur reached over into his pile of clothes to find a dark piece of cloth, his bandana. He soaked in some water from a bucket outside his tent and gently dragged it over you skin, revelling in how incessantly beautiful you were. At first, when he reached your folds, you whined from the overstimulation, but soon relaxed at the feeling.
Once you were cleaned up, he lay beside you, cradling you in his strong arms. You pecked his lips before resting your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Your eyes fluttered closed and Arthur hummed contently. “I love you, darlin’.”
lmk if you want to be added to any of my taglists!!<3
“I love you too, Arthur.”
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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years
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Angel’s Touch (Modern!Ivar x reader)
A/N: This is my long overdue contribution to @rosepetals-flyingbirds‘ challenge. I’m sorry it took me so long, babe 💖 I’ve been going through a lot lately (including the loss of a loved one) and I wasn’t in the mood to write 😔
The prompt, as usual, is in bold.
Thanks to the lovely @geekandbooknerd for beta reading this for me 🌺
Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊
The gif belongs to @therealcalicali 💐
Summary: Ivar's always been very secretive when it comes to his legs. How is he going to react when you tell him you want to know all of him?
Warnings: angst; fluff at the end; Ivar’s insecurities; soft and vulnerable Ivar.
Words: 4600
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"I'm coming!" you shout enthusiastically, wrapping a soft towel around your body before closing the bathroom door behind you. 
 Wincing at your words, Ivar hastily hides his legs under the comforter. "That was a close one…", he mumbles while breathing a sigh of relief. Deep down, he knows he's not doing the right thing. Avoiding the problem will not make it go away.
 He can't help himself, though. He still has nightmares about that awful night with Margrethe. It was years ago, yet memories of her disgusted look as well as her eyes full of pity still haunt his nights, vivid and humiliating. 
He doesn't want to go through that again. It would be unbearable and painful, much worse than the dull ache he's used to enduring every day. No, he definitely can't relive it. Shuddering at this thought, Ivar squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists tight. 
 He won't allow it. He can't. Because he's not sure he can get over it again. After Margrethe, he had been broken – more broken than his broken bones – for so long. It had taken him years of therapy to stop being disgusted by himself, to stop hating himself for what he was. A freak. It had taken him years to endure looking at himself in a mirror. And it had taken him years to imagine sharing a bed with a woman again. 
 Oh, of course, he had fucked every so often. He needed it after the complete fiasco with Margrethe. He had to prove himself that he could… But it had always been in a hurry, and with random, uninteresting women. Till you…
 You. You're not random, and definitely not uninteresting. You're beautiful and smart, patient and funny, warmhearted and caring but never overbearing. You're… perfect, he thinks, and it scares him as much as it makes him shiver with excitement. On top of that, so far you don't seem bothered by his legs and he wants to keep it that way. 
 His legs. His fucking legs. The averted elephant in the room. Well, averted… more or less. Because if you've never seen them, you know the braces, the crutches, the uneven gait and he's pretty sure you've figured out his pain. But you two never talk about them. He knows that you understood from the beginning that they were, they are a major issue for him. You're smart enough for that. 
 Yet, you never bring them up and he couldn't be more grateful. He's very aware that he can't keep going like this for long. But he doesn't know how to address what is, to him, a huge matter of concern. He's afraid you'll go away as soon as you realize how damaged his legs are, how crippled he really is. He doesn't want to lose you. He can't. That would be insufferable. And he knows exactly why. It's not just that he likes you, that sex is great, and that you're fun to be around, no… He's helplessly falling in love with you. It may be terrifying, but it's no less true.
 That's why he does what he does. That's why he's always hurrying up, hiding, avoiding. It doesn't matter if it leads sometimes to awkward situations. It doesn't matter if you're not fooled. All that matters is that you don't see his legs; not for a long time anyway; and most preferably never.
 Inhaling deeply, Ivar slips his hands under the comforter, rubs his scrawny, bony, twisted thighs, feeling their scarred skin and grunting in disgust. He knows he's wrong, he knows he's not going anywhere, but he can't help. He can't risk losing you. 
 ***
 More sad than irritated, you hardly stifle a sigh as you enter the room. Once again, Ivar is unsurprisingly already in bed, his fluffy comforter keeping his legs out of sight. 
 His legs… A fucking huge elephant in the room… It's amazing – not in a good way – how something that's never addressed can take up so much space.  
 The truth is, you know a lot about them. Being a son of Ragnar, the man who rules Scandinavia – at least economically but surely politically too, with friends in the right places and enough money to corrupt them – didn't allow Ivar to grow up in the shadow. Ivar's life therefore has always been on display, making headlines more often than not. So you know about his disease and its inherent struggles, about the surgeries and about the pain – well, now you even witness it sometimes, and the way he always tries to hide it is heartwrenching. 
 You know more than you'd like to since you even know about his supposed failing sex life, that bitch whose name you've long forgotten having told her story to everyone around. It doesn't matter though, as you can testify that Ivar's cock is far from dysfunctional. 
 Anyway, if you know a lot – truths or lies – about his condition and about his legs, you don't know them. And you're aware it has to change. You just don't know how. You can't be too straightforward or Ivar will close up on you. Yet you can't let things go on like this for too long, because it's unhealthy. And an unhealthy relationship with Ivar is the last thing you want, both for his and your sake. 
 Somehow always in your mind, his legs make things awkward. Sex is great, but could even be better, for they prevent you from being spontaneous. The last thing you want is to make Ivar, the man you're falling in love with, uncomfortable. So, you don't speak about them because you can feel he doesn't want to speak about them. You don't look at them because his tight jaw is unmistakable each time your eyes wander to his lower body. You do your best never to touch them, which isn't easy when you share his bed. In short, most of the time you act as if they don't exist. And this has got to stop. 
 You can't let this unspoken thing continue to grow between the two of you or it will end up becoming a problem that will eat you up, you do know it with utmost certainty. You won't allow it. You can't. Ivar is important to you, to say the least, and you're pretty sure he reciprocates your feelings. You see it in his huge blue eyes that sparkle each time he looks at you; you hear it in the softness of his tone each time he talks to you. 
 So yeah, the whole situation annoys you. It doesn't mean that his legs annoy you. They don't. You won't lie, you're a little nervous about them. How could you not, given how sensitive a subject they are? Will you say the right thing? Do the right thing? Will you hurt Ivar unwillingly? Just thinking about it, about them, makes you feel like you're walking on eggshells. Ivar is being very touchy when it comes to them, to those-legs-we-mustn't-talk-about, it seems to you that the slightest word could ruin everything. And you don't want that. Gods, you don't. Yet, you're not sure how to handle well something that important.
  That's the point. His legs are that important. They shouldn't be. They shouldn't matter. They don't matter. Of course, you're not stupid. Ivar has a disability, there's no denying it. But it doesn't define him, right? What defines him is his outstanding intelligence, his sharp mind, and his deadpan, ironic humour. And well, if you're being honest, his ridiculous handsomeness too… It might sound shallow, but… who cares?  
 Anyway, enough is enough. Things must change and you're sure Ivar won't be the one initiating the change. It leaves you no choice, you know it. Your heart hammering in your chest, you rub your sweaty palms together before inhaling deeply. That's it. Let it be done. The sooner the better.  
 ***
 "Are you not coming?" Ivar's blue eyes are scrutinizing you from under furrowed brows as you scrabble around in your small overnight bag, as an idea has just popped into your head.
 Glancing at him over your shoulder, you barely nod while swallowing the lump in your throat. "Of course I am, give me a minute." You reply after a while, sounding more confident than you feel. But you know it's a good idea. It could be the first step. It could work. It has to work. 
 Your hands are shaking but your heart is filled with hope when you eventually find what you were looking for. "Here it is.", you mutter, a tentative smile playing on your lips as you turn towards your lover, who looks at the silk scarf in your hand with a mischievous grin. 
 "What is it on your naughty mind?" He asks playfully, tilting his head in his very own way, the one that melts your heart each and every time. "You want to blindfold me, Y/N?" His low, deep voice sends shivers down your spine. "Or maybe you'd rather be blindfolded? It's up to you, I'm totally on board with either one." He swallows heavily, and when he licks his upper lip and then the lower in a slow-moving and sensual motion, a familiar warmth spreads in your lower belly. 
  Of course, he had to misread the situation. And you, you're so easily, pathetically flustered! Closing your eyes to push away any distracting thoughts, you inhale deeply while just shaking your head no as you don't trust yourself to speak right now. 
 Raising a brow, Ivar gives you a questioning look. "So, what is it about, then?" His tone is more serious now, you can almost feel a hint of uneasiness in his voice as if a part of his brain already suspects what's in your mind. 
 "Actually, I want to be blindfolded, but not to do what you're thinking about." You explain, shyly lowering your gaze. "I'd like to try something." You speak in a whisper but with honesty, fidgeting with the little silver Mjölnir – a gift from Ivar – you wear around your neck. "If it's okay with you." You add, your shaky voice giving away your nervousness. 
 Confused, Ivar looks at you with knitted brows. Since you don't want to explain further – because you're sure that if you told him of your plan, he would deny you – you just climb on the bed, kneel next to him and bring the scarf to your face, wrapping it around your head and over your eyes before tying it in the back with a tight knot. 
 Being blinded like that, even if it's of your own volition, is quite unsettling, you must say. You feel weirdly exposed, vulnerable, in your tiny shorts and a tank top and you have to inhale and exhale slowly several times in order to calm your nerves. 
 Uncertain, Ivar keeps quiet, his breathing just a little bit shorter than usual. "Y/N?" His hesitant voice startles you and you swallow, biting your inner cheek. 
 You know you have to take action, the sooner the better. So you fumble blindly on the bed and as you find Ivar's hand, you bring it to your mouth, kissing each knuckle one after the other while your free hand slips under the comforter. 
 His breath hitches, yet Ivar doesn't react, doesn't stop you, as you slowly lift the comforter, pulling it away. But when your fingers graze what you think is his thigh, he grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it. 
 "What…" Ivar stutters, his grip tight enough to bruise your delicate skin, "… What are you doing, Y/N?" His voice, barely audible, is nothing more than a shaky whisper that wrings your heart. 
 Yet, you won't back down. "Let me, Ivar, please…" You beg softly, but to no avail. Ivar rushes his words, panic coursing through his veins. "Stop Y/N! Don't, please don't, I… They are… They are ugly. I… I can't." That's it. He can't. Just thinking of you exposing his disgusting legs, he feels like throwing up. He can't. 
 Hearing your lover so upset, and maybe even close to tears, is heartbreaking. Raising your free hand, you find his arm, then his shoulder, his neck, and finally his face, which you cup tenderly. 
 "You do know I won't see them, don't you?" You ask carefully, peppering light kisses along his jaw while trying to slow down the frantic pace of your own heart. 
 Ivar doesn't miss a beat, pushing you away gently but very firmly. "You don't need your sight to feel how hideous they are." Almost convinced to give up by his broken voice, you struggle to keep in mind that postponing the problem can't be a solution. 
 "That's what you think about them, how you see them, Ivar, that's not what they are." Your tone soft and soothing, you're trying to convey how much you care. "And it's certainly not how I'm going to see or to feel them."
 "How would you know?" You can tell that he shifts in the bed to sit upright, his back against the headboard. His fingers still around your wrist, you have to stifle a hiss of pain when he changes position. 
 "Because they are a part of you. Nothing from you, or about you, can be ugly." You wince, realizing that you've just opened up to him more than you would have liked. But well, speaking your mind isn't a bad thing, right? 
 As Ivar, dumbstruck, keeps quiet, you decide to strike the iron while it's hot. Once again finding his cheek, your thumb lightly strokes it while you speak. "Let me touch them, Ivar…"
 You know him well enough to be sure that right now, a storm is clouding his features. But as his breathing starts to quicken and as his grip on your wrist loosens, you understand that he's more frightened than angry. "Please…" You plead, aiming blindly a reassuring smile in his direction. 
 "But… Wh… Why?" He's never felt so scared, not even with Margrethe. Even if the rational part of him knows you're right, he won't give up yet, not without fighting. "Why… Why does it have to be? You don't need to touch those fucking…", swallowing, he closes his eyes briefly, "… you don't need to touch my legs, Y/N. You don't. We could just go on like this, as we have done up to now. Believe me, it will be better like that."
 "No, it won't." You sigh, shaking your head. Ivar's distress may break your heart, yet you're more and more convinced that this is the right thing to do. "Let me touch them, Ivar, please…" You simply repeat, your free hand still on his cheek.
 "Why… Why is it so important to you?" As soon as the words escape his lips, he regrets them, wishes he could take them back. He should have said no. Why didn't he say no? Slapping himself internally, he rolls his eyes, annoyed as much by his own stupidity as by your stubbornness. 
 You answer in a sweet whisper, placing your hand on his chest. He's sure you can feel the crazy thumping of his heart under your palm. "Because your legs are a part of you, and I want to know everything about you. Will you let me, Ivar?"
 Ivar, deeply moved by your words, is eager to believe them. But on the other hand, it's so… frightening; unsettling. Not used to being so vulnerable in front of someone, he feels like he's being ripped apart, and gods, he hates it! "I… I don't know… I'm… not sure…" He eventually stammers almost unwillingly, more or less denying you once more, yet his resolution starts to falter, and he knows you can hear it. 
 Even more surprising, it's as if his body betrayed him, his fingers finally releasing your wrist. As you gasp, astonished and pleased, he ponders for a few moments before deciding – if deciding something against what seems to be your own will is even a thing – he won't stop you. He knows he could, but he also knows you're right. So, conflicted and petrified with fear, he just waves his hand, wiggling his fingers, and mumbles under his breath a faint "go ahead" that you almost miss.
 "Is that a 'yes', Ivar?" Full of hope and with what you're sure is a beaming smile on your lips, you intertwine your fidgeting fingers and put your hands on your lap, anxiously awaiting his reply. 
 His jaw clenched, Ivar just nods. At first, he doesn't realize that you can't see him. As the silence drags on, he furrows his brows, confused, before breathing a hesitant answer. "Yeahhh…" Digging his fingernails into his palms, he waits for your next move, almost like someone awaiting a death sentence.
 Sensing his anxiousness, you raise your hands and then move them very slowly, willing to give Ivar time to stop you if he needs to. Since he doesn't utter a word nor grab your wrists, you keep going, your fingers grazing what surely is his lower belly before finding the hem of his cotton boxer shorts. 
 Intensely aware of the importance of the moment, you can't help but swallow loudly, your stomach tied in knots. You started all this, and even if you're still not sure if it's the right time – will there ever be a right time for this? – you have to keep going. But you're scared. What if it'll push Ivar over the edge? What if it is too much for him? What if you won't handle this as well as you think you will? You don't want to lose him. Your mind suddenly filled with doubts, you do the only thing you can think of, and send a silent prayer to the gods, hoping they can help the two of you. 
 Holding his breath, Ivar looks at your hands as if he was hypnotized. His eyes wide open, he can't move, can't speak, utterly terrified of what is to come. He knows he should trust you. Maybe he does. But he doesn't trust himself. No, that's not true. Most of the time, Ivar doesn't lack self-confidence. He knows his worth. He's aware of the strength of his intelligence, his cunning. He knows about his good looks – even if they're quite useless; or about his highly appreciated caustic humour. And as he's no fool, he knows that being a Ragnarsson – name, wealth, all the stuff – is a major asset. Yet, when it comes to his legs, he's nothing more than a frightened little boy, so anxious that he's ready to fall apart. Feeling ashamed, self-conscious, and helpless, he's wondering how much tenser he can become until he physically shatters. Conflicted, he wants you to stop as well as he wants you to keep going. This has to be done. This should never be done. He's in love with you. You will never love him. You won't hurt him. He'll be hurt once again. Hectic, opposing thoughts are constantly fighting in his mind, leaving him frozen in fear and panicked. So, since he can't think straight, he does the only thing he can think of and sends a silent prayer to the gods. May they help him; help you. 
 Uselessly closing your eyes behind the blindfold, you gather your strength. Ivar didn't stop you. That's good. That means he wants you to do it, right? Inhaling deeply, you try to stop the shaking in your hands, and then, slightly leaning forward, you let your fingertips run over his thighs, barely touching them. You forget how to breathe and Ivar is so still, so quiet, you think he's not breathing either. 
 As you become bolder, you place the flat of your hands on his legs, careful not to apply any pressure. Under your palms, you can feel every bump, every scar, every broken bone. Your movements intentionally agonizingly slow, your hands move down to his protruding knee caps before finding his atrophied calves, their wasted muscles evident to the touch. You can't think how painful walking, or even just standing up, must be. The thought spreads a dull ache in your chest, but you keep your face emotionless, aware that if you can't see him, Ivar can see you. Rather than dwelling on it, you continue exploring, and when your fingers brush against the sole of one of his misshaped, scrawny feet, Ivar flinches. "Sorry," you mumble, "I didn't know you were ticklish." Since Ivar doesn't react, you're not sure he heard you and decide to slowly move your hands up his legs, placing them back on his bony thighs. 
 Keeping his eyes on you the whole time, Ivar struggles to breathe, his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage. He's surprised, he must say. He expected to see disgust or pity on your face, but there's none of that. Of course, he can't see your eyes, but a small smile never leaves your lips. Could it be that you're not disgusted? In any case, you don't seem troubled by what you're feeling. Maybe you're hiding it, but if so, you're hiding it well. He's also surprised because he expected to hate every moment of the process. Himself, he's all the time trying to avoid touching his legs. He hates PT sessions and doctor's appointments with a passion for a reason. But your touch is… enjoyable if he can push away all his doubts and his awful thoughts. It strikes him all of a sudden: it's probably the first time someone touches his legs for no reason at all. They were regularly massaged, checked for injuries, examined, palpated; of course, they were. But there was always a medical reason. Even when his mother touched them, it was to ease the pain. But you… you decided to touch his ugly limbs just because you wanted to. And just now, he realizes how much he missed that. Can he really miss something he's never known? He's not sure, but here he is, enjoying your featherlike touch, craving it, not wanting it to stop. Yes, he likes it; needs it. But what if, after tonight, you don't want to touch them again? He wouldn't blame you, who would want to touch such repulsive things? The thought brings bile to his throat and he knows it won't stop plaguing his mind. So he has to know, whatever it takes. Moving for the first time, he runs a trembling hand through his hair and summons all his courage.
 "You… you didn't say a word." His quivering voice startles you, making your heart swell with sadness. You don't need your eyes to know that Ivar is filled with dread. The need to reassure him compels you to blindly fumble on the bed until you find his hand, which you grasp between yours. "What do you want me to say?" You ask cautiously, your thumb lightly stroking his knuckles. 
 You can feel Ivar stiffening, his fingernails probably bruising your palms as he lets out a shuddering breath. "I…" He stops to swallow. "The… truth, Y/N. Go ahead, speak your mind. You… you touched…" He stutters, and you're willing to bet his eyes are tightly shut, his tone giving away his level of anxiety. "… you touched them. My legs, I mean. I know… I know how they feel, ugly and disgusting… no need to sugarcoat your thoughts… I… I can handle the truth…" His voice cracks at the end, contradicting his words.
 Releasing his hand, you graze his right thigh with gentle fingers. "No, Ivar", you speak softly yet firmly, "that's not how they feel, at least not to me." You know you have to be honest, you can't just say nonsensical, lovey-dovey things, he won't buy it. "I won't tell you they feel beautiful. They don't." Choosing your words carefully, you let your pointer finger follow a massive scar from his mid-thigh to his knee. "They feel different, and yes, you can feel the scars. It must have been painful, it's probably still is. But I promise you, they're not disgusting. They're your legs. They say a lot, Ivar. They're telling a story, your story. That's why I wanted to know them because as I said earlier, I want to know all about you. And they are part of you. I do think they finally deserve to be cared about, to be loved. Let me love them…" You whisper the last words, feeling vulnerable. 'Let me love you…' is what you want to add, but you know you can't, not yet, so instead you lean forward, your lips brushing and then kissing his thigh.
 Something between a whine and a choked sob escapes his lips and you can hear his breath hitch as his hand gets up close to your neck. "Did I hurt you?" You ask with concern, frowning behind the blindfold. 
 Ivar can't help but smile, even if you can't see it. "No!" he replies quickly, his hand now on the back of your head. "I wasn't expecting that, the kiss I mean, but I… liked it." He explains shyly, surprised by his own words. "Actually, I loved it." He's not lying. He loved the kiss, he loved your words; it's as if a tremendous weight had just been lifted off of him. Part of him tells him not to believe everything you said, but he decides not to. He didn't hear any malice or mischief in your voice. He knows you were being genuine. That's why, choosing to chase the disbelief away, he decides to trust you completely. And that's why, suddenly, without warning, he pulls off the blindfold.
 "What are you doing, Ivar?" You squeak, immediately closing your eyes and picking up the comforter. But as you intend to cover his legs, Ivar grabs your wrists with both hands. "Just leave it where it is." He retorts before letting out a heavy sigh. "And open your eyes."
 You do as you're told, but keep your eyes on his face. There are tears in his eyes and a whirlwind of emotions. "Just look at them, Y/N." He almost commands you, but you know that's a way to hide his true feelings behind bravado. 
 Blinking a few times and scrunching your face, you tilt your head to the side, scrutinizing him. "Are you sure?"
 Your lover just shrugs, biting his lower lip. "Will I ever be?" Taking a deep breath, he adds in a murmur. "But I trust you."
 ***
 Later that night, as you're sound asleep, your head on his chest and his arm around your waist, Ivar can't get sleep, amazed that you didn't run away. He keeps replaying what you did when you saw his legs. You had just smiled. And kissed them one more time. And then thanked him for trusting you, for allowing you to love them. Moved and overwhelmed, he could see the matching tears in your eyes, but no sadness on your face. What he saw instead was relief, and care, and… love? 
 Kissing your head, he mumbles. "It is I who should be thanking you. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you, but whatever it was, I'm glad. If angels are real, you're mine. I won't let you go, Y/N, never ever." 
 "I love you…" He finally whispers, taking advantage of your slumber. Well, little does he know you're awake but staying perfectly still. You know you weren't meant to hear those three words, not yet. And it doesn't matter. You can wait. You and Ivar have a lifetime to love each other. 
 All of him. All of you. 
🛡⚔️🛡
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parkersharthook · 3 years
Text
We’ve Only Just Begun
Peter Parker x reader
Warnings: bad words, crack fluff
2.5k+ words
Reference TikToks: kiss my best friend challenge & rich best friend check
series masterlist
~.~
“Peter I’m bored.”
“Hi bored, I’m Peter.” Peter looked to you with a small smirk
“I know, I did just address you. Also, never say that joke to me every again if you wanna keep dating.”
“ooh, harsh crowd.” Peter laughed.
“babyyyy I’m bored. It’s summer vacation, I should not be this bored.”
“y/n, you’re distracting my intern.” Your dad snipped quickly, elbows deep into some kind of machinery. You weren’t really sure what they were working, having gotten very uninterested once they started. “He’s helping me right now; do you want me to lose an arm?”
You rolled your eyes and spun around in the chair, “dad you always take him.”
“hey, you get him every day during the school year. Summer is my time.”
Peter looked between the father and daughter with a brow raised, “are you two seriously fighting over me right now?”
“well I wouldn’t have to fight over my boyfriend with my dad if Harley was here right now. That selfish idiot left and now you’re the only wonder boy to entertain my dad.”
Tony scoffed and held out his hand, wordlessly asking Peter for some tool. Peter handed it over immediately before turning his head back, “where did Harley go?”
“I don’t know, he just said he was leaving and walked out.”
“maybe he’s got a hot date.”
You huffed and slouched in the seat, narrowing your eyes at Peter. “makes one of us.”
Tony laughed and twisted slightly to give you a wink, “sorry honey but that was the deal. I let your boyfriend stay here if he helps me out.”
You rolled your eyes so hard Peter was concerned you’d see your brain, “oh puh-lease, you wanted Peter here just as much as I did. Either for Spidey stuff or normal nerd stuff, you’re just using this as an excuse.”
“fine but at least I’m not complaining about him sneaking into your room every night.” Peter sputtered, his face going instantly red and almost dropping whatever mechanic was in his hand.
“oh Mr. stark, i- we don’t- it’s not-“
“relax kid, if I was going to crucify you I’d have already done it.” Tony spun to face you, “now can you please go bother someone else. If you really want to spend time with Peter you’ll let us finish this.”
You huffed and left the lab as Peter blew you a quick kiss causing you flip him off jokingly. This is not what you wanted when you wished for your boyfriend to get along with your dad.
--
It had been a few hours and you were still bored. You had promptly gone to your room after leaving the lab and gone on tiktok, you’re absolute favorite way to waste time but now you were bored again. And you missed Peter, especially after a stupid trend kept popping up on your fyp of people kissing their “best friends” making you realize you weren’t kissing your very kissable boyfriend right now.
As if he could read your thoughts, Peter waltzed into your bedroom and immediately shucked his shirt off to wipe his face and hands.
“well hello to you too stud.” You said, biting your lip and very obviously ogling his toned body.
Peter laughed as he threw his oil stained shirt into the hamper and went to grab another from the dresser. You pouted, “why are you putting a new one on? You look fine without it.”
“because it’s the middle of the day and anyone could come looking for us and I am not about to be killed by any of the avengers because I’m corrupting their ‘little princess’”. Peter said as he put the new shirt on and flopped next to you, his chin now resting on his hand as he looked up at you.
“ugh they need to get over themselves and realize that we’re adults who’ve been dating for three years and basically already live together.”
Peter shrugged, his empty hand rubbing against your bare leg casually. “you’re always going to be the little girl they watched grow up.” He laughed at your pout and squeezed your thigh, “what have you been up to? Cured your boredom?”
“No.” you huffed, “just been scrolling on tiktok. Kinda want to start making them, could be fun.”
“what would you make?”
You shrugged, immediately struck with a great idea. “I don’t know whatever the trends on. I’m gonna put the tv on, don’t move.”
You shimmied out of bed, setting your phone up as discreetly as possible and turning on your tv. You started the video and moved back to the bed. You knew the trend was to kiss a best friend but you thought it would still be fun with Peter, plus you are best friends… you’re just also already dating. So not cheating, just a loophole.
Peter was still on his stomach, hand supporting his face, as he scrolled aimlessly through Instagram. And with you sitting against your headboard, it looked friendly enough. You waited for the right time before sliding down so you were laying next to him, practically under him. He looked up at you and smiled and for a second you were worried that he was gonna go ahead and kiss you but luckily he waited just long enough where you could initiate it in time with the song. You surged forward, hand immediately coming to weave into his curls to pull him closer.
Peter was obviously not expecting you to kiss him so aggressively so he fell slightly before catching himself on one arm that was now positioned next to your head, the other going to hold your hip. Now you really were under him.
You got lost in kissing him for a few moments when you realized the video was probably done and detached your lips. You giggled as Peter chased your lips, eyes still mostly closed. You slid out from beneath him and walked over to your phone.
“wha- where are you going?” Peter pouted, running his hands through his messy curls. You bit your thumb nail slightly as you rewatched the video, it was cute. “did you take a video of that?”
You nodded and showed him, watching a goofy smile stretch onto his face as he looked up at you, “so when you said you were gonna start filming TikToks you meant immediately.”
You shrugged and sat next to him, “no but the opportunity presented itself.”
You quickly captioned the video ‘sooo I kissed my bsf’ and tagged Peter’s account before posting it and throwing your phone to the side.
Peter kissed your bare shoulder, “is this gonna become a regular thing?”
You giggled and shrugged, “I don’t know. Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Peter groaned, grabbing you around the middle and falling back onto the bed, pulling you down with him.
--
It was a few days later when you opened tiktok again, surprised to see your video had racked up 600 thousand likes and over 5 million views. You were surprised to see that it had gone semi-viral and yet no one recognized you. Not that you had your legal name in your username and you definitely weren’t as famous as your dad and family, but you weren’t hidden away either. Honestly though, this was kinda nice to just be another twenty-one year old on tiktok, posting stupid videos for fun.
You went to the comments immediately to see what people were saying and laughed at some of the funnier ones. You noticed that even MJ had commented.
Usera: aw so cute *blocked*
Userb: ms girl… he’s been waiting for this
Userc: no way best friends kiss like that
everythingbagel: “bsf” yeah fucking right y/n
⇲ begginstrips: hehe love you mj
You went back to your fyp and scrolled through a bit before you ran into stassie baby’s video of her showing off Kylie’s car collection with the audio saying, ‘rich best friend check’. You quickly sent the video to Peter, who was currently at lunch with Harry and Ned.
y/n: wanna do this when you get back?
Peter: lol sure seems funny
it was a few more hours before Peter got back to the compound, him easily finding you curled into the couch watching How To Train Your Dragons. You smiled as he dropped a kiss to your forehead, “this movie again?”
“it’s one of the best movies ever made,” you sassed back, “so yes, this movie again.”
He leaned down over the back of the couch smiling into your face before giving you another quick succession of kisses. “wanna film that tiktok?”
You checked the time before nodded, languidly stretching your body and standing up. “where should we start it?”
And that’s how Wanda found you and Peter at 3 am, videoing rando fancy stuff around the compound, you strutting and swaying your hips dramatically. Wanda followed Peter around, who was filming, laughing at your antics and giving you tips on what to include. The three of you got so loud, that Tony eventually woke up to investigate what the three of you were up to… as it was usually not great.
“are you sure we can film this? I don’t reveal any state secrets.” Peter whispered not so well.
“what state secrets are we revealing?” you whirled around to see your father, one brow raised and a hip cocked to the side.
“good entrance, very dramatic dad.” You said with a laugh, “and there aren’t any state secrets being revealed.”
“what are you filming?”
“A tiktok.”
Tony rolled his eyes, “I’m not even gonna pretend to know what that is. Anyways go to bed, you guys are being loud.”
“yeah, yeah. We’re just finishing up.” You watched your dad walked away before turning back to Peter and Wanda, “let’s go film in front of one of his suits.”
--
Peter had posted the photo to his account and captioned it: “@begginstrips is my sugar momma ;)” before promptly throwing his phone to the floor and passing out next to you in bed.
It was 10 in the morning – which was far too early as you and Peter had only fallen asleep at 4 am – when MJ started calling you and didn’t stop until you literally rolled out of bed onto the floor to pick up.
“what the fuck m? it is too fucking early.”
“you’re all over the news.”
You paled, “what?” Everything you ever did wrong very quickly flashed through your eyes, your mind scrambling to remember what was caught on camera.
“yeah your tiktok went viral. People are freaking out.” You sagged in relief.
“Jesus mj you can’t just say that shit for it to be tiktok.” A pause, “wait which tiktok?”
“the one Peter posted of his ‘rich best friend’ and you walking around the compound.”
You let out a quick laugh, “oh ok. That’s not that bad.”
“also can we talk about this whole best friend schtick you and Peter have going on tiktok? What the fuck?”
You chuckled slightly before crawling back into bed, your heart now beating at a normal pace. “the first one was just a trend so I lied to follow it and then it was just the sound. Also he is my best friend, he’s just also my boyfriend.”
MJ scoffed, “rude. I’m your best friend.”
“right, right. Sorry.” Peter grumbled slightly as he buried his head into your hip. You gently carded your fingers through his curls, “do you know why it’s all over the news?”
“apparently people didn’t know you existed? I don’t know, just thought that you might want a warning in case your dad got angry.”
“well I appreciate it, regardless of the fact that you basically gave me a heart attack and woke me up at butt fuck.”
“it’s 10 am, get over yourself and have a cup of coffee. Anyways, lunch tomorrow?”
You yawned, “sure sounds good. Wanna invite betty?”
“she’s still in Hawaii with her family, they’re coming back this weekend.”
“right, ok. Let me know what time you wanna go.”
“will do. Love you bitch.”
You smiled into the phone and yawned again, “love you bitch.” You hung up and tossed your phone to the floor, rubbing your eyes harshly.
Peter barely opened his eyes as he looked up at you, “what was that about?”
“apparently we’re famous.” You replied as you reached over his body to grab his phone.
Peter snuggled deeper into your body, wrapping his arms around your leg and laying his head in your lap. You rested against the headboard, one hand still playing with his curls and one now scrolling to Peter’s tiktok.
You blanched as you saw the video had gotten over 6 million likes and 45 million views overnight. And according to the comments, people were very confused.
User1: ummm is that the avengers compound or am I tripping?
User2: so we’re all just finding out tony stark has a child rn?
User3: mmmm something don’t add up here?
You sighed as turned the phone off, rubbing your eyes again. A headache was quickly setting in. You leaned down to press a chaste kiss to Peter’s cheek before slowly working your way out of his grasp.
He whined, “baby where are you going? It’s early.”
“I have to go talk to my dad about this but you keep sleeping babe.”
He rolled over to face you as you walked towards your closet. “are you sure? I can come with you.”
“no, it’s ok baby. I really don’t think it’ll be a big deal.”
--
It was slightly a bigger deal than you realized. Pepper was now talking you through ‘making sure SI had a good image on social media’ while your dad smirked in a corner.
Pepper stroked your arm, “this isn’t bad press or anything. You’ll just have to be careful going into the future. And you know that with being a Stark, you’re gonna have a lot of eyes on you and probably a lot of criticism.” She sighed, “we’ve done a good job shielding you from the press for this long but it might be a lot.”
You smiled at her softly. Pepper really had always been like a mom to you and now that her and your dad were officially married, it was even more true. “Yeah I know. I’m honestly not too worried.” You turned to your dad, “did you know people didn’t know I existed?”
Tony shrugged, “Doesn’t surprise me. I have almost every record of you sealed from the public for your safety and you never were one for the spotlight.” He walked over and dropped a kiss onto your forehead, “never show my suits on your clock app again.”
You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him, “for someone who owns a company based on new and cutting edge technology, you sure are out of touch.”
He gasped, a hand pressed to his heart. “how dare you, my own daughter.”
Pepper laughed softly, “she’s not wrong. Anyways, post whatever you want to your personal account. You’re an adult, so we trust you just be careful. I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”
You kissed her cheek before standing and stretching out your back. “don’t worry, I already have a plan for my next video.”
“god help us.” Tony muttered.
188 notes · View notes
amesstm · 3 years
Text
The Suspended Cousin
WC: 1332
A/N: Have I hit a writer’s block? Maybe. Also, I’ll be creating a masterlist for this series so keep your eye out for that! I’ll probably edit this to the other parts.
P.S. If you guys want me to start making these longer as compared to short ones on a certain ‘schedule’, tell me!
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A soft knock came from your door. Yuki opened it to show Ushijima, who was slightly sweaty from his run. You had seen him run around the campus before school, only if you woke up early enough though. The only reason you’d willingly get out of bed that early was if you couldn’t sleep or you were really craving some street food as breakfast.  
Maybe once your concussion heals, you should join him. Actually, his long legs would leave you in the dust. Unless you were going to miraculously grow a few inches, keeping up with him wasn’t going to be easy. Given that you were the libero for a reason, growing probably wasn’t going to happen.
Ushijima waited in your doorway, taking up the majority of its frame. Something about his chest heaving and hair clinging to his forehead from his sweat made your heart accelerate. You managed not to stutter, “Ah, good morning Ushijima.” 
Yuki turned to you and winked. No doubt she was going to ask you about this later. You blushed and waved her off, to which she chuckled aloud. “See you two later.” Yuki sang.
You groaned internally, envisioning how you’d smack her later. For now, you put on your sunglasses and walked towards Ushijima. He walked a bit behind you before taking his place by your side. “Do you want me to carry you?”
You chuckled nervously, “No, no, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”
Upon nearing the stairs, nausea overwhelmed you. You always had a hard time with drastic changes in height if you were driving up or down a mountain. Perhaps it was the depth perception? You wouldn’t know, you’re not a doctor.  
To your side, you felt a nudge on your hand. You looked up to see Ushijima, who was sheepishly reaching for your hand. “Yes Ushijima?”
“I thought you’d want to hold hands like yesterday.” He stated, simply blinking at you.
Was he being shy? How cute. You smiled reassuringly, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
After having your consent, his hand clutched yours gently. Of course, his hands were calloused but something about that made his secure hold more comforting. For such a big man that plays rough on the court, he was surprisingly gentle with everything else. No one would’ve thought that the stone-faced ace would be such a big teddy bear.  
“Y/N, you’re red. Do you have a fever?” Ushijima asked, about to touch your forehead with his other hand.
“Nope!” You squeaked, “I’m fine!”
He didn’t ask any more questions – thank goodness. Until he did, “Do I know your cousin?”
You chuckled nervously, “I hope you don’t for your sake. He’s suspended right now.”
Ushijima looked at you with slightly widened eyes, no doubt thinking the worst of your cousin. You immediately went to your cousin’s defense. “N-no! It wasn’t for anything too serious. He just did something stupid to make his principal upset.”
Ushijima nodded, but didn’t look too convinced. “Is he as short as you?”
“Ehhhh?” You whined. “I’m not short! You’re just very tall.”
“That’s a fact,” Ushijima allowed. “But it’s also a fact that you’re short.”
You didn’t reply to that, knowing it was useless by now. But you did say, “Well, my cousin is very short now that I think about it. I am a bit taller than him, though!”
You realized you said the last part too confidently, but Ushijima displayed a small smile. His silence wasn’t awkward. On the contrary, it was comforting.  
“Oh, I guess we’re at class now, aren’t we?” You chuckled. “Thank you, Ushijima. You don’t need to do anything for me the rest of the day.”
“I’ll still do something,” he deadpanned.  
“I don’t doubt that Ushijima,” you said before waving goodbye. Of course, you’d still see him in some of your classes but you weren’t sure you could casually speak to him yet. Then again, Ushijima seemed to do whatever he wanted without much worry. So, there wasn’t much use in arguing with him either.
~
“Tendo, what do I do for Y/N?” Ushijima asked as his red-headed friend joined him for lunch. Despite asking such an out-of-character question, he casually ate his rice without any concern. But for everyone else, it might as well have been the first moon-landing.
“Are you finally making a move?” Semi asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting a small smile.
Ushijima nodded. As Tendo sat down, he drew a thoughtful expression. “I know that she really likes Pocky. If you get her the Cookies & Cream flavor, she’ll definitely fall in love with you.”
Against Ushijima's will, his cheeks blushed profusely. “She’ll love me?”
“Can our ace not understand sarcasm?” Goshiki mockingly asked.  
Imaginary characters floated around Shirabu’s head, as if warning the first-year to tread carefully. The characters seemed to get the message across: Oh, you think you’re so good at picking up social cues? What makes you think you can even compare?
Effectively, Goshiki was silenced by his upperclassman. “A-anyways, how did you finally talk to Y/N-san? All you’ve ever done is stare at her.”
“I gave her a concussion when we practiced together,” Ushijima replied casually. He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the same guilt from the day before.  
So, I need to get a pretty girlfriend by giving her a concussion, too?! Goshiki internally screamed to himself. The poor first-year wheezed out, an imaginary ghost leaving his body.
Shirabu only blinked at the bowl-cut boy before returning his attention to Ushijima. “And now you’re her servant?”
“It’s not like that,” Ushijima defended, but didn’t portray any anger.  
“I think it’s ‘cause he likes that,” Tendo said with a dirty smirk. Semi and Shirabu groaned, with Goshiki dying once more.
~
“Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you to the café?” Ushijima asked as he walked you to the school gate.  
You nodded with a smile on your face, “I’m sure. Have fun at practice, Ushijima!”
Before he could say anything else, you ran off. He knew you were just meeting up with your cousin, but he wished that he could have some more time with you. Ushijima frowned, clutching the pocky he had bought for you.
Oblivious to the boy you left behind, you journeyed to the café that your cousin said you’d meet at. You entered the restaurant and searched, looking for that familiar spiky hair. Huffing, you didn’t see that he was there yet. You sat down and decided to look at the menu.  
Then, he arrived.  
“Y/N!” You heard your cousin scream.
Although you cringed, you still smiled. The small boy wrapped you in a hug, making you giggle. “How are you, Yu-chan?”
Letting you go, your cousin grinned, with that classic Nishinoya grin from his side of the family. Although you smiled, your brain still throbbed. Perhaps you should’ve moved this to a different day. “Please don’t be so loud.”
“Wait a minute – do you have a concussion?” He asked, frowning with concern. “How’d you get it?”
“I was practicing with...” how should you address Ushijima? “Uhhh, someone.”
Yu sneered and started to make fists and throw jabs, “Well that someone is gonna get beat when I see them.”
Never in a thousand years would you want your family to fight with your crush. However, imagining Yu trying to fit someone literally twice his size made you giggle. “For your sake, don’t.”
“Do I need to remind you that I’m the best libero ever?”
You pursed your lips, not wanting to ensue another rant about his superiority. “No. But, just don’t please.”
He rolled his eyes, “Okay, fine. But I’ll get help from this guy I know if you want.”
Yu might’ve been just talking about some friend he had. Or, in the short time he’s been suspended, he had joined a yakuza. Either way, you knew that this simp would probably create a gang to protect you. If only you knew how that friend group would impact your relationship.
A/N: For clarification, you and Nishinoya are related through your mothers’ side so you can keep your last name lol. Plus, it won’t be too confusing if I need to use both of their last names later on :p
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the-evil-authoress · 3 years
Text
GX Month Day 7: “Ojama Delta Thunder!!”
That’s right! You know what today is! Today we celebrate The Chazz, the one and only Manjoume Thunder! Give sparky boi a hug!
WE STAN SUPPORTIVE WORKPLACES IN THIS HOUSE. Also, tiny bit of Egoshipping at the end.
This monster is just over nine pages. What am I doing with my life?
“So you wanted to talk Pro stuff?”
It takes Chazz’s brain an extra minute to process the words, still reeling from the bombshell Jaden decided to drop on them tonight. Then he latches onto the chance to think about literally anything other than the fact that Jaden literally fused himself with the monster that tried to kill him! How stupid do you get?! “Yes, please, I’m desperate.”
“Alright, no need to grovel.” Aster holds a hand out to preemptively stop any further begging that admittedly would have happened. “Like I said, I’d be glad for the company.”
It’s still surreal to watch Aster be both honest and vulnerable even though Chazz has seen it a few times now thanks to these group talks Jim started. Chazz has actually seen most of his friends break down in tears at this point. This year has been a fucking trip. “Okay, what’s the catch?”
“You’ll be my assistant.”
“Sorry, what?” Chazz must not have heard that right.
“You’ll have the chance to see how the Pros work up close and personal, and I get an extra pair of hands on deck.” Aster shrug. “Win-win.”
That is absolutely not a win-win! “I’m not gonna be your lackey!”
Aster levels him a look that would be insulting enough even without the younger boy’s obvious lack of fear in the face of Chazz’s anger. “So you don’t want my help then.”
Oh this son of a- Deep breath in. Hold it. Exhale. Don’t scream bloody murder at the literal one person related to the Pro Dueling business giving Chazz the time of day. “Fine. What exactly am I expected to do?”
*
“You’ll be managing Aster’s schedule,” the woman says as she escorts Chazz up the elevator because Aster couldn’t be bothered to meet Chazz himself. Esmerelda, she introduced herself as, an employee of the Senrigan Group assigned to look after Aster. Purple curls spill over her shoulder and she’d be pretty if her smile wasn’t so...unnerving. Sharp green eyes bore down at him and Chazz wants to fidget in this stupid, uncomfortable suit. “Take this.” Esmerelda holds out a simple flip phone and Chazz accepts it with minimal confusion. “It’s a company phone and will be your primary method of communication.”
This gig sounds simple enough at least.
At the top floor of the company-owned skyscraper, the doors open to reveal a spacious and luxurious pad. Reminds him of home, honestly, and Chazz has to swallow down the confusing mix of emotions that brings. “I’ll be living here? Not bad.”
“Certainly not.” Esmeralda chuckles and gives Chazz a smile that - in one word - he would describe as plastic. Leading him through the entryway-living room space, she opens a door to a room that looks like a typical office space.
“That’s a lot of phones.” He stares incredulously at the appliances that line the desks.
“Of course,” Esmerelda says and Chazz finds it more than a little unnerving that she doesn’t deem it necessary to address why there are so many phones in this room. “This is your desk.” She taps a spot on the table top with an immaculate nail. “Make sure you arrive before seven.” Chazz nods and the woman leads him back out of the room to a set of narrow double doors that open onto a balcony. “You will be sleeping there.” She points down at a comparatively tiny, rustic looking building squeezed between the back of the skyscraper and the road. Is that a warehouse?
*
It’s a warehouse. There’s a couch and table on the landing near the door and a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The power is out and a cloud of dust rises from the couch when Chazz sets his briefcase on the cushions. Sadly, this isn’t much worse than the Slifer Dorms. He’ll make it work.
*
“You put him where?” Aster looks up over his cup of chamomile tea, something Sartorius recommended after noticing his trouble sleeping and, like most of Sartorius’ suggestions, works fairly well. Setting the cup down, he presses his finger tips to his temple and doesn’t wait for an answer. “Esmerelda, you are evil.”
“With all due respect, sir, this boy is a Manjoume.” Esmerelda frowns, posture stiff where she sits on the other end of the couch and brows furrowed in an expression that speaks exactly how she feels about this situation. “The Manjoume Group is our biggest rival. He could be here to steal company secrets.”
“I highly doubt that,” Aster mumbles and picks his tea up again.
“To my knowledge, Chazz has an estranged relationship with his family,” Sartorius says from the armchair across the table, pencil tapping lightly against the clipboard on his lap. That paper is either Aster’s schedule or a crossword; Aster doesn’t care enough to squint. “Besides, he is a personal friend.”
Aster scoffs. “Chazz and I are not friends.”
“Friendly acquaintances then.”
“Acquaintances,” Aster corrects. “We’re just acquaintances.”
“Of course,” Sartorius agrees in that voice that implies he knows something he isn’t willing to share yet. Aster narrows his eyes at him over the cup but doesn’t press the issue. He’ll find out soon enough; Sartorius isn't that good at keeping secrets.
“Exactly,” Esmerelda presses. “Why are you sticking your neck out for him?”
Sighing, Aster sets his cup down to massage his temple once more. He knows Esmerelda means well, but she’s been watching him like a hawk even since he got back from the other dimension and Aster misses that small bit of freedom. “I don’t know. Maybe because I felt bad for him? Maybe because I wanted someone to talk about-” He lets the sentence hang and shelves the bulk of his bitterness and frustration before continuing; he doesn’t need to take it out on them. “-who actually understands.”
Esmerelda presses her lips. Sartorius stares at him with those damnably soulful eyes. Even if he could have predicted that whole fiasco, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to stop it. Aster doubts nothing short of the sun imploding could have stopped Jaden from chasing Jesse across dimensions; Aster had just been the idiot who got too close.
“It’s late.” Aster exhales wearily. “You should go home.”
Nodding, Esmerelda stands and bids him a good night. Only after the elevator has closed behind her does Aster allow himself to slump against the couch. Sartorius sets the clipboard on the table - it’s a crossword - and holds out his hand. “Shall we retire?”
“Yeah.”
It’s easy to be vulnerable around Sartorius, probably because of how long they’ve known each other, and Sartorius is still the only person Aster can completely relax around. He lets Sartorius pull him up off the couch and they head down the hallway to the bedrooms at the back of the suite.
“I’m in the next room if you need me,” Sartorius promises with his usual nightly greeting, and Aster has the distinct feeling he’ll be taking him up on that later. Today’s been stressful.
*
Chazz arrives at the office room at 6:55 sharp and freezes at the sight of the person already sitting there. “Good morning, Chazz,” Sartorius greets like they’re old buddies or something and not the guy who brainwashed him less than a year ago. “I trust Esmerelda already briefed you on the daily necessities.”
“No?” Chazz croaks. He’s going to be working with Sartorius? What happened to Esmerelda?
Sartorius’ expression falls into one of surprise and concern, but one of the multiple phones rings before he can respond and his attention immediately swerves. “Good morning, this is Sartorius speaking,” the man says with an uncanny level of grace and authority. Whatever is said on the other end of the line prompts him to pull up some kind of spreadsheet on the computer in front of him. Another phone rings as the conversation continues and Sartorius wordlessly directs Chazz to answer it with his hand.
“This is Weekly Duelist,” a voice chirps in his ear, a bit loud and on the edge of demanding. “Next week, could we have Aster...”
A third phone rings. Sartorius pushes a pen and paper at Chazz as he sets the first phone down and reaches for the next. “Write it down.” He’s on the next call before Chazz can ask for elaboration.
And so the morning goes. Chazz scribbles down the names of different dueling events and talk shows and gods-know-what-else that want Aster’s attention while Sartorius alternates between his own conversations and calling back the interested parties on Chazz’s list to fit them onto the spreadsheet.
Esmerelda shows up during a lull in phone calls as Sartorius walks Chazz through using the digital schedule, and Chazz’s brain is too fried from the last 2 hours of his life - has it only been 2 hours?? - to even care about the guy being in his personal space. “The first few hours of the morning are always the busiest. If you can’t confirm at the time of the call, write down the request and call back later. You must also always consider location and travel time- Oh.” Sartorius looks up abruptly. “Excuse us a moment.”
Standing, Sartorius pulls Esmerelda back out the room with him, and Chazz takes the opportunity to just sit and do nothing. A few names remain on the callback list. Should he get started on that or wait for Sartorius to return?
“You sent him in here with no instruction.” The conversation floats in from beyond the door.
“I told him to arrive before seven.”
“Before seven does not imply ‘in time to receive instruction’, Esmeralda. If you weren’t going to show him anything last night, he should have been here at least half an hour before hand.”
So that woman set him up for failure? Whatever, nothing Chazz isn’t used to. Reaching for the phone, he calls back the next event on his list. He’s got two more events scheduled before Sartorius and Esmerelda return and sits back in the chair smugly as he ends the call. Sartorius’ eyebrows rise as he glances over the schedule on his own screen.
“Well done! I’m glad to see you taking initiative.” The praise sends an odd thrill through Chazz like a half forgotten memory and he decides not to dwell on it. Sartorius turns back to Esmerelda with an almost smug grin. “And you worried.”
The woman presses her red lips together with a dismissive hum; Chazz prefers it to the plastic smile.
A tea and snack break later, Chazz finds himself fetching Aster’s clothing and duel disk - why the hell does someone need that many of the exact same thing?! - for a photo shoot, then hauling books from a truck to the table of a signing event - he didn’t know Aster wrote a book about duel philosophy. Admittedly, he’s curious - all while occasionally answering phone calls and penning new events onto his paper copy of the schedule.
The sun has set by the time he finds himself slumping back in his desk chair, Aster’s schedule neat and tidy on the spreadsheet before him. The phones have finally gone silent.
“Good work today.” Sartorius enters with a tray of soup and breadsticks and sets it on the desk adjacent to Chazz.
Chazz blinks at it. “You cook?”
Sartorius smiles. “Yes. Mizuchi and I lived alone for most of our lives, so we had to learn how to take care of ourselves.”
“Oh.” Chazz doesn’t know what to say to that so he doesn’t say anything as he reaches for the soup and spoons some of it into his mouth. It’s surprisingly good, mild, not too salty like most of the canned stuff.
“There’s an extra room up here for you,” Sartorius says and Chazz looks up sharply.
“I don’t have to stay in the warehouse?”
“Goodness, no.” Shaking his head, Sartorius presses his lips and continues at length, “I suppose Esmerelda wanted to test your resolve.” Chazz snorts. “I assure you, Aster and I did not approve.”
Didn’t stop them from letting him sleep there last night. Chazz can’t even muster the energy to glare at the man, only managing what must be a fish eyed stare. He dips the breadstick in the soup before taking a bit; oo, now that’s a good combination of flavors.
“How was your first day?” It’s still unnerving how calm and even Sartorius speaks even without the malicious undertones from the Light of Destruction.
“Exhausting,” Chazz answers without hesitation.
Sartorius chuckles. “I’ve put on some tea if you’d like to join us.”
Chazz considers this and shakes his head. “Nah, I’m gonna go get my stuff.” Still too weird, and honestly he wants nothing more than to crash in a real bed and stop existing for a few hours.
Nodding, Sartorius stands. “The room is at the far end of the hall. Mine is the second on the left if you need anything.”
Chazz really shouldn’t be surprised these two live together.
*
The following week is more of the same. Chazz follows Aster to all manner of events from meet-and-greets to fancy parties, always doing the heavy lifting and always answering the phone. During the precious few moments he has to breathe, Sartorius talks his ear off. The man is a surprisingly witty conversation partner and the complete opposite of Chazz’s sparse memories from the Society of Light.
“Of course I’m different.” Sartorius laughs good naturedly as Chazz curses his slip of the tongue. “That wasn’t really me, Chazz.”
No, Chazz supposes it wasn’t.
“He’s so good with people,” he mumbles, leaning on the balcony railing where they watch Aster mingle in the party below.
“Of course.” Sartorius sounds fond. “That’s what it takes to succeed. I believe you can learn a lot from watching him.”
Yeah, if Chazz can manage to find the time between everything else.
*
“You want me to what?”
“Organize the cards in here,” Aster repeats and Chazz baulks at the sheer number of stacks that line the shelves. “The power’s back on so that won’t be a problem. No specific deadline, just work on it when you have spare time.”
“What spare time?!”
Aster only raises his eyebrows with that unimpressed expression he’s so fond of giving, and Chazz clenches his teeth.
“Can I least get some gloves and a mask and a duster?” It’s filthy in here and Chazz doesn’t fancy breathing in whatever dust cloud he’s found to kick up.
“There should be cleaning supplies in the closet.” Aster waves a hand vaguely before turning to take his leave. “Good luck.”
*
A number of people make house calls with Aster; Chazz doesn’t pay much attention to them because he’s usually neck deep in phone calls and keeping Aster’s schedule straight - he does not need another double booking fiasco, thank god Sartorius had the charm to sort it out peacefully. One guy in particular, however, Chazz does get used to seeing; Mike something-or-other, a TV producer hell bent on getting Aster in on his comedy acts. Aster throws him out more than once.
“Why don’t you just cut ties with him?” Chazz asks after another such altercation. “You clearly don’t like him.”
“He’s good at what he does.” Aster frowns, annoyed if not outright angered. So are Slade and Jagger and that didn’t stop Chazz from telling them to fly a kite. Picking up his cup, Aster winces as his hand shakes and quickly sets the cup down before the tea can spill. Chazz zeros in on the movement.
“Hand,” he says, scooting over to sit by Aster on the couch without a second thought.
“What?”
Chazz doesn’t wait as he takes Aster’s hand and smooths out the joints between his own fingers before pressing gently and rubbing circles with his thumbs.
“You know massage??”
“Yeah.” Chazz still doesn’t get why everyone makes a big deal of it. This is something he’s always been able to do; used to find it weird that other people couldn’t because it felt so easy to him. A natural skill or whatever. “Jesus fuck,” the English expletive slips past his lips as he feels the knots and strained muscles in Aster’s hand. “I’m cancelling meet-and-greets and signing events for a while.”
“Excuse me?”
“So your hand can heal,” Chazz cuts Aster off before the other can work himself into righteous indignation. “You can’t duel without your draw hand. Two weeks of minimal activity and you should be fine. But we should tape this. Do you have a first aid-”
A white kit with a red cross hovers in the peripheral of Chazz’s vision. He stares dumbly up at Sartorius as Aster huffs with amusement. Cautiously, Chazz takes it. “Can you still see the future or something?”
“Predict,” Sartorius corrects as he takes his usual seat in the arm chair. “And not all predictions are accurate.”
“Riiiight.” Just gonna ignore that piece of information for now then. Chazz pulls the ace wrap out of the kit and turns back to Aster’s hand. “Tell me if it’s too tight.”
Maybe he’s imagining it, but there might be a sliver more respect in Aster’s eyes when Chazz finishes wrapping his hand and a tiny, genuine smile on his face.
*
This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening!
Aster’s going to lose his entire career just because one lousy card went missing?!
Chazz paces back and forth across the warehouse floor, gnawing on his fingernails. The cards have all been organized - monster, trap, spell, then by type, archetype, and alphabetical. Chazz could point exactly to which box a single card is in, but the one card apparently more important that Aster’s fucking career disappears from right under his nose!
They even know who took it! They have photos from the security camera! But they can’t prove shit because the bastard was smart enough to keep his face covered and away from the camera! If they can’t prove it, they can’t get the card back! And then Aster-
“Boss, breathe!” Ojama Yellow squeals. “I think you're having an angry attack!”
“Anxiety attack!” Chazz screams, suddenly aware of just how rapid and shallow his breath has gotten. Geez, he sounds like Jaden after-
JADEN!
Chazz dives for his school-issued PDA, yanks up the contacts, and rapidly taps his foot against the floor as he waits for the other end of the line to pick up. He dials twice before getting an answer.
“What?”
“Jaden, I need your help!”
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” The other boy sounds groggy and disheveled.
No, Chazz has absolutely no idea what time it is in Japan, he is on the side of the globe and that’s not important right now! “Listen! I need you and your freaky powers for help with something!”
Silence. The line clicks dead.
“DID YOU JUST HANG UP ON ME?” Chazz screams into the empty warehouse. It takes three more tries to get Jaden back on the line.
“And why should I help you?”
“SERIOUSLY? Wait.” Something about Jaden’s voice sounds off. The cadence? “Yubel? This is Yubel isn’t it? Put Jaden on the line! I don’t want you!”
“Jaden is asleep as I was before you so rudely interrupted me and will be returning to now,” Yubel snips.
“WAIT!��� Chazz screeches before she can hang up again. He doesn’t need to waste any more time on callbacks. “Never mind! I just need help! Aster needs help!”
The silence on the other end stretches long enough that Chazz fears the monster already hung up. “I’m listening.”
*
Chazz doesn’t even question it when Jaden tumbles out of the shadows onto the warehouse floor, grumbling about fudged landings and never being at locations before, just snaps at him to hide the wings and drags him up to Aster’s apartment. “I brought help!” he announces as they barge in.
Aster’s head snaps up and Chazz watches the scathing remark die on his tongue as his eyes fall on Jaden. “Oh. That’s an idea.”
“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Jaden walks fearlessly up to the trio. “Cuz I got the basics from Yubel, but details would be nice.”
“Yubel?” Esmerelda asks with a weary glance between Jaden and Chazz.
Jaden blanks at her then turns away dismissively. “Not important.”
Aster tosses the security photos onto the table between them. “This is the guy who took the card. Mike, a TV producer who’s been trying to get me to go along with his comedy gimmick for weeks now. We know it’s him but these photos won’t hold up in court.”
Picking the photos up, Jaden holds his chin thoughtfully. “So you just need me to get this card back?”
“And maybe some proof that this guy stole it,” Chazz adds quickly, trying not to cringe as Aster’s eyes flicker over to him, but the pro silently nods his agreement.
“Alright. I’ll see what I can do.” Setting the photos back on the table, Jaden glances at the elevator, makes a face, and walks straight for the balcony. They all watch in confused silence until Jaden leaps off the balcony railing.
Esmerelda screams. “Is he insane?!”
Even Chazz charges toward the balcony, leaning over the edge in terror, only to find Jaden standing calmly on the sidewalk below like he didn’t just jump off the top floor of a fucking skyscraper!
“How?!” Esmerelda gapes, gripping the railing with white knuckles.
“I’m not even gonna question it.” Aster waves a hand as he returns indoors. Sartorius chuckles quietly, the only person who hadn’t made a mad dash after the reckless idiot.
Chazz sinks to the balcony floor, waiting for his heart to finally get the memo that they don’t need to be freaking out anymore. Gods above help them all...
*
Jaden gets the card back and manages to publicly humiliate Mike in the process. Win-win.
At the end of Chazz’s ‘employment’, Aster challenges him to an official PR duel. It’s the first time Chazz has gotten to seriously break out his deck in a while and he fears he’ll be rusty, but the plays come to him easier than they ever had. Oh, he gets it now. When he organized all the cards in the warehouse, he read each one’s effect; he thought about how to play them and combo them with each other. Aster’s deck is easy to read and Chazz pulls off a spectacular win.
Amidst the cheers, Aster holds out his hand. “Nice work. Guess you did learn a thing or two.”
Riding the adrenaline high, Chazz pulls him straight into a hug. Aster grunts, going rigid before awkwardly patting his back.
“Maybe not in front of the cameras.”
Chazz immediately backpedals. “Right! Sorry!” There’s an odd expression in Aster’s eyes as they shake hands properly this time.
*
“Sartorius. I have another problem.”
Sartorius sniggers as Aster predictably sinks into the seat next to him, flipping over the cards in his game of solitaire. “Oh, I don’t think this one is a problem,” he says with confidence, this morning’s card reading still fresh in his mind. “You should ask him out.”
It takes a second. “SARTORIUS!” Aster pushes away from the table, looking positively scandalized. “I don’t have time for a social life let alone a romantic one!”
Humming, Sartorius places a card on its designated stack. “I’m sure you can make the time. After all, you’ve been making time to visit Duel Academy quite frequently of late.”
“For my mental health!” Aster goes on the defensive, but there’s no denying the hint of flush on his cheeks. “And that's not the point! I don’t care if you read it in cards, I’m not just randomly asking him out!”
Sadly, Sartorius knows half of Aster’s reluctance to the idea is because the media would have a field day with any celebrity’s love life, let alone one with...less conventional preferences. That will not, however, prevent Sartorius from teasing his best friend. “How would you prefer to ask him out then?”
With a frustrated whine, Aster glares at Sartorius. “Not at all.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Shut up.”
25 notes · View notes
redhoodssweetheart · 3 years
Text
Blackbird | Two
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader slowly turning into a Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.8K
Requested: No
Warnings: Sexual Assault attempt, Swearing, angst, some fluff, talk of having a dark soul and not being a good person, death mention, shot with a gun
Description: You were once a member of the BatFam known by the moniker Blackbird.   You and Dick Grayson were close, but when a tragic accident left many members of the team thinking you were dead you went into hiding and tried to build a new life for yourself. But now Dick is back and he’s about to find out your secret.
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Dick’s eyes scanned the buildings surrounding him searching for any signs of movement.  He was waiting for the new vigilante to show themselves.  He had been in Preston City for almost three days now and there was still no sign of the mysterious stranger.  He wondered if they had gotten injured or if maybe they didn’t go on patrol every night.
From the looks of the police reports though that wasn’t the case.  Whoever this person was, they were very active and they left no stone unturned.  They reminded Dick of someone he had once known in how thorough they were.
On the rooftop opposite from Dick, she had appeared.  She was watching him, the only thing standing out about him was the blue bird on his suit.  It had been so long since she had seen her friend that it made her ache.  He was so close that she could call out to him and get his attention, but she clamped her mouth shut tightly.
Quickly she dropped down from the roof of the building and pulled her hood up.  Tonight she was in her civilian clothes.  She had known Dick was in town thanks to the call from Bruce, and she had been avoiding going out as much as possible in case she ran into him.
She merged with the foot traffic and glanced around to make sure she was safe.  There was no sign of anyone else she had once known.  It was only her and the strangers she blended seamlessly in with.
She glanced up once and saw Dick looking down at the crowd, his eyes scanning for something.  Hiding her face again she ducked down an alley to head back to her apartment.  She prayed that she would make it without further trouble.
“Hey pretty lady, you lookin’ for some fun?”  The voice made her skin crawl and her eyes narrowed.
“Leave me alone, buddy.  I’m not looking for anything,” she responded.  She hoped he was one of the ones that was all bark and no bite.  She didn’t have time to deal with this.
A hand clamped down on her shoulder and made her stop.  Well wasn’t this just peachy.  “I wasn’t exactly asking.”
She turned to face her would be assailant and sneered at him, “And I’m not getting involved with you shit for brains.”
That didn’t please him.  “What did you just say to me, you little bitch?”
She grabbed his arm and twisted it so that he whimpered in pain.  “I called you a moron and now I’m going to break your arm and if you ever touch me or another woman without our consent just know I’ll hunt you down and do much worse than a broken bone.”
He had the good sense to look frightened by the woman in front of him.  “I’m sorry,” he whimpered.  “It won’t happen again.  Please don’t hurt me.”
She twisted his arm further so that he was on his knees in front of her.  “No, you need to be taught a lesson.  Your actions have consequences and this is one of them.”  There was a snap and the man howled in pain.  She dropped his arm and took a step back.  “I’d run along and get to a hospital, that sounded pretty painful.”
He cradled his broken arm and rushed off, not once glancing back at the woman he had just tried to assault.  When she turned around to continue on her way to her apartment she froze when she saw that Dick was now standing in front of her.
He had heard the commotion in the alley below and was going to jump in and stop the man from hurting the woman, but then he had seen her grab his arm and twist it.  He had dropped down into the alley as quietly as he could, neither the man nor the woman seemed to notice him.  He heard the man’s arm snap and saw him go running off.
Then the woman had turned, her face still obscured by her hood.  Her mouth opened slightly and her hand went to clutch her chest as if he had surprised her, which he guessed he had.  There was something familiar about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.  “I was going to see if you needed help, but it seems like you had that situation under control.”  He gave her a lopsided grin to let her know he wasn’t going to hurt her.
“I’m fine,” she said curtly.  She didn’t want to say too many things and blow her cover.  “Thanks for the assist.”
“Do I know you?”  He asked as he took a step closer.
She took a step back, “I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?  You just… you remind me of someone I once knew.”  There was a hint of sadness in his tone.  He wished he could see her face.  It was stupid, but he could have sworn it was her even if she was dead.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” she quickly pushed past him and disappeared around a corner.
Her perfume lingered in the air and Dick felt his heart stop.  It couldn’t be….
He stared at the photo in his hands, his eyes glued to her face.  It couldn’t be possible.  It shouldn’t have been possible.  But here she was right before his eyes.  The camera had caught her at one of the traffic lights.  She was walking down the sidewalk, to where he wasn’t sure, and she was glancing over her shoulder as if she felt like she were being watched.
The photo was a few days old, right before he had gotten into town.  Did she think someone from the League was going to find her?  How had she managed to stay hidden for so long?
He pulled out his phone and dialed Bruce’s number.  “Did you know she was still alive?”  He asked before Bruce could get a word in.
“I did,” there was no point in lying to him now.  If Dick knew the truth then there was nothing he could do to keep her secret any longer.  “She asked the League to keep her status a secret from everyone.  She wanted to just live in peace.  A year ago she came to me and told me she wanted to get back out in the field, she hated the nights where she wasn’t doing anything except staring at a TV screen.  I told her you would come looking into it.  She thought it was worth the risk.”
“Where is she in the city? What building?”  Dick had to see her, he had to see her with his own eyes.
Bruce knew that that was going to be his response, “Come home, Dick.  She doesn’t want to see you or anyone.  Respect that.”
“I can’t!”  Dick shouted into his phone.  “You saw how long I mourned for her.  You knew what she meant to me.  Now I find out that she’s still alive and we’re in the same city and you want me to act as if this bomb wasn’t just dropped on me?  No, Bruce.  Tell me where she is or so help me God I will go door to door until I find her.”
Dick’s threat wasn’t to be taken lightly and Bruce knew he would go door to door to try and find her.  “She’s not going to be happy.”
“I don’t care,” Dick hissed.
“I’ll text you her address, just… don’t overwhelm her.  If she saw you tonight she’ll want to run.  Don’t let your emotions get the better of you.”  With that he hung up his phone and texted her address to Dick.  He prayed that all went well.  
Her hands shook as she began to throw clothes into a bag and anything else that she may need in the quick escape that she was planning.  Dick wasn’t an idiot, he would have figured it out by now that she wasn’t dead.  He would more than likely have called Bruce and Bruce would cave and give him her address.  She just couldn’t see him.
She made sure she had everything she needed before she headed for her front door, hopefully she had enough of a head start that by the time Dick showed up she would be long gone.
As she wrenched the door open she froze in her tracks.  Dick was standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, “Y/N.”
She slammed the door, but his foot caught it at the last second.  She was already darting through her apartment toward her bedroom where she could make her escape down the fire escape.  “You wore him down quicker than I thought,” she called over her shoulder.  He was right on her heels.
“I threatened to knock on every door in the city ‘til I found you,” he responded.  She threw open her window but a hand clamped down on her shoulder.  “Stop running from me.”
She turned and looked into his blue eyes, so full of concern and heartbreak, “You should have left well enough alone, Dick.  I was fine the way things were.”
He pulled her closer, “Were you?”  He looked around her bedroom, there wasn’t much adorning her walls unlike her bedroom back at Wayne Manor.  “It seems like you were just surviving, not living,” his eyes went back to her.
“Sometimes surviving is better, less likely you’ll get hurt that way,” she wrenched her shoulder free and sat down on her bed.  There would be no escaping from Dick tonight or ever.  He would still look for her no matter what.  “Ask your questions.”
“Why?”  That’s all he wanted to know.  Why had she kept her survival a secret from him?
“I actually did die,” she responded.  “They managed to bring me back, but I didn’t want to fight anymore.  I didn’t want to be a part of the League or a part of the BatFam.  I just wanted to be left alone, no reminders, no one trying to pull me back in.  I didn’t want you to know because if you knew then you would be constantly showing up at my doorstep, a reminder of what I had lost.”
“Lost?  Y/N, what could you have possibly lost?”
“I’m not the same girl I was when Joker shot me.”  She bent her head, “They took me to a Lazarus Pit, I lost my sanity for a bit, and when I came back I decided I was done with it all.  I lost a piece of my soul that day and I didn’t want you to look at the person I’d become.”
Dick knelt in front of her, “No matter what you’ve done or how you’ve changed I will always love you.”
“Don’t say things that you may change your mind about,” she said.  “You’re in love with a memory of the person I once was.  Just go back to Gotham or Bludhaven, or wherever you call home now.  Leave me to my peace and quiet here.”
“I’m not leaving you, not again,” he grasped her hands.  He wasn’t going to let her go.  “I love you, I love you so much.  Nothing could make me ever stop.”
Tears were rolling down her face, “You can’t know that.”
“Then let me prove it,” he challenged.
101 notes · View notes
diaco1968 · 4 years
Text
Of Proud Fragile Hearts
Bakugou x reader
Angst, Blood is mentioned, Hanahaki disease
Under the cut cause it got too long :')
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"What is your problem, Katsuki?"
You whisper yelled at Bakugou after everyone else had already left the conference room, closing the door and locking it as you turned to face the boy, leaning back in his chair, arms tightly crossed over his broad chest, scowling.
In the past few months that you two have been secretly hooking up, he had gone through not caring about your daily life, to trying to make you listen to his healthy tips, to fleeting episodes of jealousy and then some. Yet when you pointed it out to him he would deny it. Usually either by changing the subject and leading it to your usual ordeal of a hook up or if he was still feeling possesive by moving straight to pinning you down and shutting you up by some steamy make out session. Either way, the hook up is what would happen and then you'd both go away on your separate daily lives.
You had grown fund of him enough not to mind getting together with him if he was the one who'd step up first. Hell you would love to. He was hot, he knew how to spoil you, he remembered little things and despite his fiery temper he knew how to treat you properly like a woman. To sum it up, he was boyfriend material. Except he was emotionally unavailable. And you were fine with that. But recently as you started making friends with Kaminari, Bakugou also started acting up. You two acted like mere acquaintances in public and in the agency it was lonely. Then there was Kaminari, the Pikachu. He was easy to be around, easy to talk to and easy to listen to. So you befriended him. It was really nothing at all. You'd hang out with him when you couldn't hang out with Bakugou. Much to Bakugou's dismay, those times would be right in front of his eyes, earning you dirty looks and some sulking episodes every time.
And now only minutes ago during the briefing, he had been sitting across from you and Kaminari, and when Kaminari said anything he would mock and humiliate him. It was hard to even watch so you stood up for him and Bakugou shot you a nasty look before he stopped participating all together. Honestly you were glad he didn't start mocking you instead. But this behaviour towards the poor guy was unacceptable. He didn't even know why he was being targeted by Bakugou's wrath.
His eyes shot up to yours not believing what he was hearing. "What is my problem?! What the fuck is your problem!" He shot back, earning a 'Shhh!'  from you. "You had no business picking on Denki like that." You scolded and he sneered "Denki?" You rolled your eyes glaring at him as he went on "you had no business sitting with Denki the whole day long. You had no business snickering and chatting and flirting with him during the conference like that. You had no fucking business standing up to me for him!" He leaned forward in his chair, placing his arms on his knees.
"We were not flirting! Everyone knows about his crush on that recruit from the IT for fuck's sake. And Denki is my friend, Bakugou! Who are you? Should I have been sitting by you? Chatting you up?" You said harshly, sarcasm dripping off of your last few words. To his sheer surprise, he felt his chest tighten from the way you addressed him with his last name right after you called Kaminari by his first name. He knew you had a point. He knew he was the one setting things up the way they were, for his work always came first and in his path to success there was no place for a full time partner or dealing with the rumours of one even existing. He knew he had no right to complain about this now. Yet, he couldn't help the pang of jealousy that rose deep in his heart whenever he saw you hanging out with that dunceface so freely.
Your keen eyes seemed to have caught him slightly off guard and your own pent up hurt and rejection clawed at your logic before you could stop yourself and you went in for another low blow "even if I am flirting with anyone, it is none of your business unless it gets physical. That was the deal. Take it or leave it."
His jaw visibly clenched, nostrils flaring as he inhaled sharply before snorting "so that's the problem. You already have some one else for back up to warm your bed just in case, huh?" there was no way to take it back now, and he was too angry to try. You watched him in silence, disbelief and hurt written all over your face. At first he felt triumphant for rendering you speechless with his snarky remark but seeing the hurt in your eyes and your pursed lips he regretted opening his mouth at all. He wished you would just yell at him, punch him even. But you did nothing as a few minutes of torturous silence passed on between the two of you, your eyes searching his face for a sign that the man you loved and cared for didn't actually come to know you as such a person he just described. You had thought you were at least friends. He opened his mouth when he saw your eyes started to glisten but before he could say anything, you exploded.
"You know what Bakugou! Fuck you! You and your whole bullshit!" You threw the first thing you could grab at him which happened to be an empty glass, that missed his head when he docked shattering on the wall behind him. "You're so emotionally unstable, you don't even know what the fuck you want yourself! Let alone get to know anyone else you arrogant piece of shit!"
His brief sadness from making you upset faded from his mind as rage took it's place filling him up to the brim and spilling out as he shot up in his place, his chair scraping on the floor and falling back. He slammed his hands on the table in front of him, saying words he had come to feel anxious even thinking about hearing "oh fuck it all to hell. You wanna know what I want, fuckwipe? You're a waste of time, I want this over and done with. We're through!" He headed for the door walking right past you.
His insult really dealt some heavy damage on your pride as angry tears filled up your eyes and you gathered all you had not to let them spill "fine with me Fuckboy! Go be a nuisance to someone else!"
He had his hand on the doorknob, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping it with anger, he pulled it once and found it locked. Not bothering to unlock it, he exploded the whole thing open loudly, the door turning on it's hinges and slamming on the opposite wall, him stepping out and leaving amidst the dust barking at the peering colleagues who scattered away immediately "what?! Get back to work extras!"
You left the room after you made sure he was gone, hoping you could hold your emotional breakdown in the whole way home, having to raise your hand up to your mouth to suppress the multiple coughs as you inhaled the dust from the explosion.
He kicked his boots off, threw his jacket to the side and plopped down on the couch covering his face with his hands and releasing a heavy groan "ugh what the actual fuck did I say... stupid fucking dumbass..." his hands were cold and fingers shaky from the after effects of the rage leaving his body but he was too stubborn to let remorse invade his mind yet. Not fully at least. You were at fault too! "She shouldn't have provoked me like that! Annoying brat!" He spat as he lay down on the couch, but In the back of his mind, your hurt glistening eyes and shocked expresseion was creeping in the darker abyss of his brain, haunting him slowly. Then his mind wandered to the argument, your words resonating in his now mostly dark and empty mind.
'Who are you Bakugou?'
'Take it or leave it'
The way you said that so nonchalantly... did you not care at all if he left you?... after all you've been through? He wouldn't ever say it, but he had opened up to you more than anyone, you knew that. He knew you did.
'Fuckboy'
'Nuisance'
His throat constricted violently and he had to sit up and cough harshly to clear it. "Tsk fuck it. I don't give a shit." Rising from his seat he went to the fridge to get something to eat and grabbed his phone to call Eijiro to see what he was up to tonight.
~
"You've been sick for a while now, maybe you should see a doctor? It doesn't look like a simple cold..."
Bakugou waved his hand nonchalantly, dismissing Kirishima's concerns as he coughed into the palm of his other hand, shutting his eyes and trying to concentrate on controlling his breathing through his nose. Even though he feigned indifference he was worried himself too. It's been 2 weeks since the coughing started and it wasn't just coughing either. He would occasionally find himself out of breath and unable to get enough oxygen in his lungs without opening his mouth and taking in a sharp gulp of air. As if he was losing his lung capacity. '(Y/n) would know how to get rid of this...' he groaned in annoyance as he caught himself thinking about you again. You had made your choice. It was obvious. He even texted you to meet up, but you've been ignoring him ever since the argument half a month ago... felt like years...
His heart clenched, along with his jaw as he felt another epiode of coughs coming. He rose to his feet and headed for the bathroom "be back in a sec." He replied to Kirishima's questioning look with a hoarse voice. The noise cancelling bar bathroom was starting to become too familiar for his liking, as he had frequented it quite often in the past 2 weeks. Not alcoholic often, but the free time he usually spent with you was now spent working over time or with Eijiro at his favorite place...
He burst out into another coughing fit, gripping the sink as he bent over it. He could feel a hard lump move in his throat as he heaved his lungs out, finally managing to spit out what was stuck in his airways. And to his utmost horror he was not relieved at all by the sight and the sound.
What spilled out of his mouth and scattered inside the sink with soft 'thud' sound, was a fist full worth of what looked to be... seeds?!
His hand shot out and grabbed a few bringing them close to his eyes and squeeshing them between his fingers to make sure. "What the fuck...?!" He whispered mind wandering to each and everyone of his recent quarells with the villains trying to recall anyone at all with a floral quirk. Was this what caused the coughing?
It took him quite a while to get over the initial shock but when he was sure he wasn't coughing anymore he headed back to his table with Kirishima, plopping down tiredly in his seat. "You look pale bro, what's up? You weren't a light weight last time I checked." Eijiro teased, making him smirk tauntingly in reply "I can drink 5 times as much as it takes to knock you off your feet and still be barely tipsy, dumbass. Don't test me." They both laughed and Bakugou forgot about his problems for a little while, hoping spitting out those seeds was the end of it.
And it seemed to be. He hadn't coughed for a while now. At least not until the breaking news popped up over the screen right across from where he was sitting.
"The notorious spider villain escaped the law once again but hero (your hero name) managed to save all the victims, with the help of none other than hero Deku, who just landed a few hours ago for his vacation-..."
The words flashed in his mind and the voice of the reporter faded as he watched the screen showing the scene after the rescue, where you were talking to that bastard Deku, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck with a grin, like you used to do when Bakugou made you shy and you never had any idea how cute it made you look, and he was smiling down at you.
Violent coughs errupted out of his chest and he covered his mouth just in time to stop the content from spilling out as he shot up from his seat and made his way outside for some fresh air. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gasped for air lightly, leaning on his shoulder on the wall outside, opening his palm to see the same few seeds and a bunch of delicate red and white petals. He stared at his palm with wide eyes for a few more seconds before crumbling them in his fist as he felt someone's presence behind him. "I really really think you should see a doctor." Kirishima put a hand on his shoulder.
"I will. Right fucking now actually. This shit is so annoying."
~
"I said when I cough flowers come out- ugh! Hey! I know I sound crazy! Don't stare at me like that!" He let out a frustrated groan as he sat there on the bed for his check up, answering the confused doctor. "We have not encountered this before mr Bakugou, you don't sound crazy. I would have to check the database again for quirks with this kind of side effect. Meanwhile if you could... provide a sample would be really useful."
"Sure, I'll just cough my lungs out for buried seeds till you get back..." Bakugou clicked his tongue and gestured for the doctor to show it was okay to go do whatever he needed to do.
And again he sat there alone and annoyed, watching the rest of the hospital, from the little space he was provided by the door that the doctor forgot to close properly.
You always refused to close the door too...
He had forgotten how lonely a hospital felt before he had you to fuss over him as he sat there grumbling that he was fine.
He heaved a careful sigh zoning out so when he saw your face, he thought he had imagined it at first.
"Ms. (Y/h/n)! You did amazing today! The room you're looking for is just at the end of this corridor to the left. You actually did a good job finding it." The excited nurse chuckled and Bakugou snapped out of his daze hearing your muffled voice thanking her.
'Always so bad with directions...' he thought bitterly swallowing the lump that was raising in his throat in favour of getting up and following you quietly. He just wanted to know why you were in the hospital, is all. Just making sure your clumsy ass didn't hurt yourself.
He stopped outside the door you disappeared into on the other side of the corridor, blended in by the moving patients and busy staff, scoffing sarcastically as you didn't bother closing the door.
His little smile was soon gone however when he saw who you were visiting.
Sat there on the hospital bed was none other than Deku, who had his forearm wrapped in some light bandage. Probably from the rescue they showed on TV earlier. Where you were too. It was normal. You checking up on him after. Totally normal. He reminded himself. 'I could do that at home shitty nerd, no need for a hospital.'
Normal was not where it ended though and what happened next as you got up to leave had Bakugou wishing he had ripped his eyes off you and walked away the moment he had figured you were alright.
"Guess I'll be seeing you around then. Oh and Midoriya," you chuckled mischievously leaning close to whisper in the boy's ear. "I wish you luck with Ochako." Just as you expected, heat rose to his face and he flushed red to the tips of his ears as he started stuttering embarassed and his hand moved up to rub his bandaged arm "ouch!.. I mean!... thank you!"
You both jumped as you heard something metal clattering to the ground in the hallway and you peeked out to see what was going on. Much to your surprise and concern you saw a familiar spiky blonde hair a little further down the corridor. 'Katsuki?' You leaned out of the room more to see better. He looked like he had a terrible time trying to breathe, his shoulders shaking as he heaved cough after cough, bent down with his arms keeping himself up on his slightly bent knees. Your heart clenched at the sight. He looked in pain. The nurse Bakugou had supposedly crashed into, causing him to drop his metal platter to the ground put a hand on his back to try and calm him down. But Bakugou just swatted his hand away "...don't... touch..." he managed to rasp out with an unusually hoarse voice as he gained enough composure to push past the nurse and walk away, still coughing but much less violently.
"What was it?" Deku asked from inside the room.
"Nothing, just a nurse dropping a bunch of stuff..." you said quietly concealing the worry in your voice as you stared after Bakugou down the corridor even after he was already gone.
Blood. Blood and petals. And the occasional flower bloom falling out of his mouth as he coughed. He had been wiping blood off his mouth since he had gotten home from the hospital. The feeling of constantly having one of those petals sticking to the back of his trachea. It was disgusting. The sickening sweet scent filling his nose and mouth made him want to gag. They had suggested hospitalization when they couldn't find anything on his condition and he had refused. But now as the pain in his throat grew ever more intolerable, he was trying his last hope for an answer as he looked for the contact in his phone, playing with the little flower in between his fingers with his free hand absentmindedly.
'Amaryllis...'
He had looked up the shape of the flower as soon as he had seen it, washing the blood off the petals. None of this made any sense to him. How does one cough out flowers? How was this even real?
He dialed the number immediately when he saw the contact name.
"Aizawa sensei"
~
Despite your efforts to completely ignore Bakugou's existence after your 'break up', you've had Baugou back on your mind ever since a few days ago in the hospital and it wasn't in the best of ways either. His tense shaky shoulders, his harsh hoarse voice, his pained dry heaves. It all sounded and looked so serious but you had no idea what he was down with and it was killing you. You were constantly distracted and it was proving to be such a hassle. Oh how you wished you were not alone in this very moment. Alone in the middle of a crowded square full of civilians.
"What's wrong girly? Can't beat me now without that green lettuce, huh?"
Alone against this dude known as the spider villain. Who was back to take his revenge on the humiliation you and Deku gave him last encounter.
"Oh fuck off bug. Those are your last words before being sprayed back to the sewers?"
You growled getting in your fighting stance and ushering him to come at you.
Bakugou was walking down the street towards the hospital, crumbling the piece of paper with the surgeon's address and name in his fist, deep in his pocket thinking on his meeting with his former teacher a few days ago.
'Amaryllis?' Aizawa had said the moment he saw the bloom in Bakugou's hand, much to his surprise. He never took the old man as a flower person. 'I've only ever seen this once with my own eyes when I was a student myself... wouldn't believe it if I hadn't.' He had pulled out a bunch of old books handing half the stack to Bakugou, probably deliberately chosen ones as there was one on the meaning behind flowers in Bakugou's stack. As he sat down in front of the boy turning pages rapidly scanning the words, Bakugou reluctantly read the book.
'Amaryllis is the only genus in the subtribe Amaryllidinae. It is a small genus of flowering bulbs, with two species. It symbolizes pride.'
He stared at the lines, reading them over and over again with a blank face. Until Aizawa's voice broke him out of his trance.
'Hanahaki Disease is a disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated...'
He paused making Bakugou wonder if it was for adding more dramatic effects as his eyes moved up to lock with Bakugou's
'...until the victim dies unless the feelings of genuine love are returned or the plants are surgically removed but this excision also has the effect of removing the patient's capacity for romantic love. It may also erase the patient’s feelings for and memories of the enamoured.'
It was obvious what Bakugou chose. There was no place in his life for such a hassle as love. It would just get in his way anyway. What a nuisance...
'Nuisance'
'Fuckboy'
His heart clenched making a surge of pain go throught his whole body remembering your words and your tone.
"Reciprocating feelings of genuine love my ass..."
He scoffed pushing his fists deeper in his pockets to keep his shoulders from shaking as a series of coughs ripped out of his throat, staining the black mask in front of his face, with blood.
He bumped shoulders with a guy in front of a TV store who looked distraught enough not to recognize Ground Zero as he apologised and turned back to the TVs on the display in the windows.
Feeling insulted, Bakugou turned to look at what this man was watching that got him so stupid to stand in his way. The moment his eyes met the screen he felt as if his heart stopped. Hands freezing cold and eyes going wide with terror as he watched the live report of none other than you being picked up and thrown a distance away aginst a wall by some villain.
Lying there in the rubble of the building you gasped to catch your breath that flew out of you when your back hit the wall. Before you could wholly come to your senses he was above you again, grabbing you by the neck and picking you back up. Your hands shot up to grab his arm to try and relieve the pressure around your neck, your feet dangling in the air as you tried to kick him off of you but he was smart, keeping you away from himself.
"Just as I thought. I should've found the broccoli. You are a waste of time."
Bakugou's face and a bunch of memories flooded your mind and your eyes stung with unshed tears, feeling it ironic to have to hear this again in what appeared to be the final moments of your life.
The corners of your vision were blurring out as you couldn't breathe in anymore air and you were sure you imagined his voice in your head.
"Get off you fucking bastard!"
The loud growl accompanied by the sound of a loud explosion and the hand around your neck disappearing, the pressure gone. You dropped to the floor on your hands and knees gasping in and looking up to see Bakugou launching himself at the guy who was framed in the opposite wall due to the initial explosion. His bare fist met the bug man's face with a sickening 'crack' and only then did you realise he wasn't even in his hero costume.
"Bakugou... I'm fine..."
You tried calling him but your voice was too strangled. He was delivering punch after curse after punch and the guy seemed to be knocked out long ago.
"Bakugou! Stop..."
You said louder as you got to your feet making your way towards him, hesitating momentarily before grabbing his shoulder and ripping him off of the bloodied beat up guy.
"KATSUKI!"
His whole heavy sweating panting body whirled around and crashed into your arms, making you trip backwards on your feet and fall on your butt still holding him.
Very unlikely for him to be so ungraceful and fall with you like that, he would usually catch you and scold you for being clumsy. Out of habit you braced yourself for his scolding but it never came.
He started wheezing and gasping in your arms, unable to breathe, whatever air he had left in his lungs being forced out by the violent coughs that wracked through his whole body, his hands moving up to grasp at his throat squeezing his eyes shut tightly.
"F-fuck... h-hurts..." he wheezed out twisting in your lap as you watched him in terror.
"W-what's wrong? Holy shit! Katsu you're turning blue!"
You didn't know what took over you as your hands moved on their own accord, grabbing his jaw, forcing his mouth open and plunging your fingers down his throat. What you pulled out would haunt your nightmares for the rest of your life.
Bakugou started gasping in big gulps of air when you removed your hands from his face, but you couldn't see him anymore. You were staring at the thing that was previously clogging his airways. A whole, leaf, stem and flower petals between your fingers, dripping with fresh blood and saliva; mouth falling open and paling even more, if possible, at the sight.
Bakugou looked up once he could breathe again and couldn't help but whimper quietly at the thing you just pulled out of his own throat. The sound making your eyes snap back on him even more concerned than when he was choking. "What the fuck is this?!" You asked showing him the flower, as if either of you could ever forget about it, instinctively cupping his cheek and stroking it with your thumb. He looked surprised and you immediately realised your mistake pulling your hand away "sorry force of habit... but... answer me!"
Your touch was soothing to the ache in his damaged throat and he was so in pain already that he didn't care if he was going to sound pathetic or needy or clingy... or... sorry. He opened his mouth to tell you to put your hand back on him but instead of words he had to cough, fresh blood mixed with the sickly sweet scent of the flower spraying over both your clothes, making you panic again.
"I'll tell you later... just... give me a sec...please..." He whispered embarassed and grabbed your hand placing it back on his cheek, lowering himself down on his shaky arms and laying over your legs exhausted. His voice sounded so tired and broken that despite yourself, you chose to just let him have a moment for now without making him talk.
~
You stroked the back of his hand absent mindedly careful not to touch the busted knuckles, watching his sleeping face as he lay in the hospital bed. He looked terrible. Pale skin, bags under his eyes. You could swear he had also lost some weight. How long has he been coughing for? How much blood?His face twisted in pain and you jumped as he stirred with a cough, opening his eyes and staring at you blankly.
His eyes moved over your features in silence with a soft expression on his own face, watching your glistening bright eyes, wide with concern. The way your hair framed your face, your eye lashes making your eyes look even more beautiful, your lips pursed with worry. Then moving as you talked...? He was so concentrated he barely heard your voice.
"...- yeah?"
"Yeah..." he replied softly.
"Yeah?!"
His mind started to clear up more as he raised an eyebrow uncertainly "uh... no?"
You laughed at his weird behaviour and he smiled. He had missed it. Missed seeing it. Hearing you laugh.
"You weren't listening to me, were you?"
He offered an apologetic look "yeah...sorry."
You shook your head softly "nah it's fine, wasn't important."
He suddenly looked very serious "No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said those things. I didn't mean any of them."
You stared at him blinking in confusion before realising what he meant. Bakugou was apologizing! You opened your mouth and closed it again, speechles. Clearing your throat you tried again.
"Yeah those really hurt..."
He could feel his heart drop as he looked at you wondering if it was actually over.
"I forgive you, stupid. Stop looking so pathetic." You rolled your eyes and grinned pinching his cheek.
"God I fucking love you so much... be mine again?"
You couldn't help blushing as you nod your head "you're such an asshole... but I can't help loving you either."
His eyes lit up, relief washing over him as he raised his hand cupping your cheek and bringing your head close, leaning in to kiss you.
"Wait! What was the deal with that flower-!"
"Shhh I'll tell you later...just..."
He looked down at your lips as he trailed off, licking his lips and pressing them against yours firmly.
And to this day, you still think he wanted to give you the flower and he chose the creepiest weirdest way to do it.
Nah just kidding.
He said he fell down and swallowed it by accident...
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silverdecepticon93 · 3 years
Note
Okay, weirdly specific, I know. But I have a BTAS oneshot idea, if you want to write it? Poison Ivy is doing her usual thing with pheromones (It's a collaboration plot with the other villains), and Batman and co have to stop her. Anyone hit with the pheromones is super lovey dovey, even some villains caught in the crossfire. Next thing, Riddler is confessing his love to reader, who's a HERO. After it's over, everyone assumes it was just the pheromones. Except, the pheromones never got Riddler...
💜Dolly’s Note: Had no idea what to title this but I really wanted to write this! Thank you for your request anon!
      Ever since you teamed up and joined Batman, you’ve found yourself in many crazy situations. You wrested Killer Croc more times than you can count, you’ve gotten sprayed by fear gas so many times it was more annoying than it was terrifying (it was actually STILL terrifying), and you don’t even want to think about all the stress Joker’s put you through. Still, despite it all, you liked being a hero. It was rewarding, it made you feel like you were doing some good, and there might’ve been another reason.
      “Well, well. If it isn’t my lovely (Y/n)!” A familiar voice shouted happily.
     You took a break from trying to break into the warehouse where Batman had contacted you, where the source of all this love crazy madness was happening, and stood up to look back at one of Batman’s greatest villains.
      “Riddler!” You beamed before crossing your arms over your chest, “Never thought you’d help out Ivy and her little plan.”
       “Well, it does get me closer to what I want.” He shrugged, walking over to you.
      You raised an eyebrow at his strange choice of words before tilting your head to the side quizzically.
       “And what is that?” You asked him.
       He...he looked a bit flustered by your question and started fidgeting with his tie, confusing you and making you rather a bit uneasy.
       “Well, you, of course!” He said, you hadn’t noticed that he was walking over to you until he finally held your hands in his.
       “W-what?” You stammered, becoming discomposed by his words and the fact he was holding onto your hands.
       You’d be lying if you didn’t say that you didn’t find him attractive, after all, he was a very charming individual (even if he was a bit narcissistic at times) and not to mention that you two had a bit of a flirt thing going on. However, that’s all you thought it was! 
     Just a bit of a flirtation between a hero and a villain, right?
     Well, you were just about to find out how wrong you were.
     “I said, you! You see, I’ve been...ah, well, it seems as though I developed feelings for you. You’re just so intelligent and kind, so charming and...well, I can go on forever about you honestly. You’re just so amazing and...and,” He tightened his grip on your hands ever so gently before using one to caress the side of your face gently.
        “I love you, (Y/n).” He beamed.
        Your eyes widened upon his confession and you could feel your face starting to heat up at his words. Your heart stopped in your chest and your eyes couldn’t look away from his beautiful green ones, ones filled with love and admiration.
       However, you then started to remember something, something that Bats had told you before you arrived at the warehouse where Ivy was controlling everything from. That her new love toxin just made people become so infatuated with one another.
      Maybe Edward was affected before you arrived.
      “Eddie,” You began softly as you moved your face closer to him.
      Edward could feel a blush creeping up on his face, as well as his lips curling into a big wide grin.
      “Yes?” He continued eagerly.
      “I’m sorry but I’ve got a job to do.” You grinned cheekily.
     It had happened so fast that Ed couldn’t see it coming, all he saw was that adorable and mischievous smile on your face and next thing he knew, he was on the ground tied up and gagged.
      “Still, it was a very sweet confession,” You complimented as you dusted your hands off and ran over to the door that separated you from where the real action was happening.
       “If only it were real.” You thought to yourself.
---------------------------------------
        Batman tied up Poison Ivy as Robin, Nightwing, and Batgirl also were restraining the other criminals along with her. They didn’t worry too much about the others that were affected by the love toxin, after all, they just laid on the floor as they babbled mindless lovey-dovey nonsense about whoever they were thinking about.
       “Aw, did I miss all the fun?” Your voice caused them all to look back.
      “Where were you?” Bruce frowned, narrowing his eyes at you.
     “Jeez, no need to get so mad! By the time I managed to pass The Riddler, I had to deal with Bane and Killer Croc by myself! Good thing they weren’t affected by the toxin, well, Bane and Crocky at least.” You explained, remembering your rather... delay with The Riddler.
       “You’re saying The Riddler got infected?” Dick mused, “I bet that was interesting.”
      “Yeah, it sure was.” You chuckled nervously, suddenly remembering the feeling of his glove caressing your face and the way he looked at you.
       All that love and admiration.
       “That can’t be possible.” Bruce chimed in.
       Both you and Dick looked at him, before sending quizzical looks to each other before looking back at him again.
      “Why not? You should’ve seen him! He was all I love you, (Y/n) and you’re so amazing! Why else would he have been acting like that because if it wasn’t the love toxin?” You asked, but deep down, you knew the answer already.
       “Poison Ivy told us herself that she gave the look-outs special injections so they wouldn’t be affected so if The Riddler was acting strangely. It wasn’t because of the toxin.” Batman added on.
       You stood there in silence for a bit, feeling your heart drop and shock overcome your brain.
       If it wasn’t the love toxin then...then he was being serious?
       “Well, that’s kinda a stupid way to confess to someone, isn’t it?” Tim joked, “tell them you love them as there’s this love toxin in the air, right?”
        You didn’t respond, you were so caught up in your thoughts that you become oddly quiet. Worrying your fellow heroes.
       “(Y/n)?” Barbara called out in concern, “You okay?”
       Her voice managed to snap you out of your trance-like state and you shook your head a bit as if it’d help you regain your thoughts.
        “I’ve, uh, I’ve gotta check something out.” You said quickly as you dashed out of the main room of the warehouse and down the way you came from.
        If what Batman was being said was true, then you really messed up, but maybe if you acted quickly, you could still find a way to fix things. To make it up to Edward.
         By the time you got to the place you started at, Edward was already gone as the strong rope you used to bind him was now laying on the floor, limp and broken. However, among it was a crimson red rose with a white note next to it.
        You furrowed your brows in confusion before you walked over to it and bent down, picking it up and turning it over.
         Dear (Y/n), 
          You seemed to have misunderstood me when I told you I loved you. However, this is no problem on my behalf at all. If you’re interested in me as I am you, then please meet-up with me at the following address and time.
        Sincerely,
        E. Nygma
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tinyboxxtink · 3 years
Text
Build Me Up Buttercup *Part 5*
WARNING: This chapter contains mention of sexual assault, please read at your own discretion. Also, I’m sorry these last two chapters have been kind of dark but next chapter will be super fluff I promise!
If you need to catch up:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 6
Tag List: @wanniiieeee
....And you just ran out?”
Your roommate’s judgement came through loud and clear, even through the phone.
“Yes! What the hell was I supposed to do?!” You tried defending your actions. You called them to feel better, not worse.
“Well, first of all you shouldn’t have LIED,” They kept their snarky tone.
“I didn’t LIE….per say,” You paced back and forth, twirling your hair in your fingers nervously. The silence after your statement was like you could SEE their faces just giving you “that” look.
“Oh okay what was I supposed to say? ‘Oh hey yeah you’re right Fin, I was an absolute party wreck until I couldn’t be anymore’?”
“I mean I don’t--” You heard footsteps coming up behind you, so you swung your phone to your side, cutting off their sentence.
You turned to see Rafael standing there, that permanent concerned look for you pasted on his face.
“Hey...are you ok?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just needed some air,” You tried your best to stay calm and nonchalant.
“Are you sure? Because you--” He started to say something but you quickly interjected.
“Actually you know what Barba I’m kind of on the phone right now, can I meet you back inside?” You motioned with your phone, kicking yourself for being cold to him right now but you couldn’t deal with anything else at the moment.
“I...uh...yeah, sure,” He shook his head with an awkward smile, and walked back inside. Relieved, you put the phone back up to your ear.
“Aww, how cute. Barba cares!” your BFF’s voice cooed through the speaker.
“Yeah, in like a ‘dad caring’ kind of way,” you rolled your eyes.
“Oooof, I wouldn’t start throwing that term around, we might have to start talking about ‘daddy issues’, Y/N,” they giggled.
“SERIOUSLY?” You practically screeched into the phone, thanking every god you could think of that Rafael had gone inside before that comment.
“I’m just sayin! I’m ALSO saying that you need to go back in there and tell your squad the truth,” they returned to a very serious tone.
“Yeah I guess…” You sighed, knowing they were right.
“And I’m sorry I can’t be there with you holding your hand while you do it babe. But…”
“But what?”
“But maybe Rafael can?”
“Jesus, can you please be serious right now?”
“I am being serious! You just told me he helped you calm down earlier, and that wasn’t even half traumatic as this is gonna be,” They insisted.
“I don’t….how…?” Your face scrunched up trying to think of NON creepy ways you'd ask for someone's hand.
“Whatever, do what you want; But I do suggest telling them. Clearly you're not going to be able to keep this under wraps, and I doubt you want to keep freaking out on your co-workers. Trust them, trust RAFAEL,”
You sighed again, you knew they were right. Olivia said it herself, it was important to have a squad you trusted.
“Alright I’ll call you later,”
“You better!”
You took a deep breath and walked back into the bar, your hands shaking as you reached your booth. The group all started to speak, but you put your hand up.
“No just-- Let me talk. Fin, I am so sorry,” You addressed Fin, who shook his head in a “don't worry about it” manner.
“No, I really am. I’m sorry I freaked out on you and I’m sorry...I lied. Kind of,” the squad again looked at you in total confusion.
“God….okay, how do I….? Um….”
You started trying to form sentences in your head, words jumbled around in your brain. You started to panic again, when you felt a hand grip yours under the table. You snapped your eyes open and looked next to you where Rafael had taken your hand. He gave a small, supportive smile making you suddenly feel at ease.
“Okay. So, like I said I was pretty much a ‘caged’ child. I was homeschooled, I didn’t have any friends, just academics. Being born a ‘prodigy’ sounds good on paper, but I just always felt like a show pony. Or an alien experiment. People were always coming by to check out the ‘genius 5 year old’ play Mozart, or ‘the brilliant 10 year old finish calculus problems in under 30 seconds’.”
You took a deep breath, watching their listening faces. Too much detail hon, get there faster.
“Um, anyway. I graduated ‘high school’ at fifteen years old. I had barely made it through puberty, and I was already done with my academic childhood. Obviously, I wanted to immediately enroll in college, if for no other reason than to get away from my insanely controlling parents. But big surprise, they had a problem with it. It took me a minute to convince them that it was the right next step, full ride scholarships to literally any school in the country helped. And I mean, ANY school. All the Ivy leagues sent out their top recruiters to speak with my parents about having the ‘prodigy’ attending their establishment.
So with that, I was able to convince my parents that I knew what was best for me. I told them I was smarter than them, so clearly I could parent myself better. And God help them, they believed me,” You had to pause again, tears catching your throat. Rafael gently started rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.
“So, I started at NYU that fall, just after my sixteenth birthday. Sixteen years old, the only child in a university full of adults,”
“I don’t like where this is going,” Sonny whispered to Amanda who nodded in agreement.
“So I got paired with this room mate Layla, who was the polar opposite of myself. She was gorgeous, totally socially gifted, but dumb as a rock. Her daddy had paid her way into the school,” you rolled your eyes just thinking about her.
“And truth be told I loved her at first, because she was the sweetest girl. My first ever real friend. She took me under her wing and gave me a complete makeover; socially and physically. I had NEVER had guys look at me the way they did after she helped me. It was....intoxicating.” You paused in shame, picking at your jacket.
“So, naturally, I wanted to hang out with my friend. My ONLY friend. And hanging out with her meant going to all the coolest parties, frats and sororities. I was SIXTEEN, I didn’t….I didn’t think,”  You bit your lip and stared at the floor for a moment before continuing.
“I lost my virginity at those parties,” you muttered quietly, and to your surprise the team started reacting.
“Wha-- Wait wait wait, guys that’s….that’s not even the bad part yet,” you gulped. Jesus the judgement was quickly getting real.
“Anyway I...was pretty much a huge party girl slut,” you shrugged. “I’d go and party, and hook up with random guys, and never thought twice about it because I thought ‘that’s what college girls do’,” You scoffed at your younger self for even having that notion. How could you be that smart and that stupid at the same time? It was baffling.
“And one night, it bit me in the ass,” You sighed, here comes the hard part.
“I don’t...I usually got so wasted that I didn’t CARE who I was having sex with and most of the time never remembered WHO it was anyway but-- but I’m pretty sure that night I didn’t want to,” You breathed out and looked up, willing the tears on the rims of your eyes to go back in where they came from. Rafael’s hand gripped yours tighter, making you feel safe.
“But it is what it is, this guy did what he did and left me on the floor in a frat house,” You scoffed again, this time tears dripping down your face. You couldn’t believe there was a time that you had been that pathetic, to just be left laying on the floor like a blow up doll.
“I guess Layla found me and took me home, because I woke up in my own bed. But I had bruises and hickeys ALL over my body, and just….brutal stuff,” You trailed off while you picked at your food, not wanting to go into any more detail.
Suddenly, as if turning on a light switch, your entire demeanor snapped back into ‘normal mode’, you wiped the stray tears away and cleared your throat. You were
“AHEM So...anyway, after….that, I told Layla that I couldn’t hang out with her anymore if that’s all we were going to do, and she understood. She didn’t like it, but she understood. The next semester I got a new roommate who was pretty much like myself, boring and socially inept, so I went back to the thing I knew best-- academics. I changed my major from biochemical engineering to law, because I didn’t want anyone else to go through what I went through without a voice. And after that, and a WHOLE lotta therapy, I just pushed that whole semester I lost deep, DEEP down, you know like a totally healthy person,” You tried playing it off with a laugh, but they weren’t amused.
“But...just thinking about Mary Fahey,” you sighed. “That girl had everything going for her, she was probably really smart and had a whole life ahead of her. She made the bad decision ONCE, to go to a frat party and she’s DEAD. Meanwhile, I was a stupid slut for a whole semester and the worst I got was bruised up and a pregnancy scare.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying,” Amanda gave you a look.
“What? That I should have been killed? Well why not? Why HER?” You protested, sipping your hurricane. It was unsettling to the squad how little you seemed to care about yourself.
“....I knew there was more to it in the bathroom,” you heard Rafael’s soft voice beside you.
“I’m sorry...I didn’t know how to tell you,” You looked at him with apologetic eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I was...trashy,”
“Ok now hold up” Fin interrupted.
“First of all, you need to stop throwing words like ‘slut’ and ‘trash’ around, especially about yourself, Y/N,” he took your hand.
“You said it yourself, people make mistakes. Hell if I worried about the amount of dumb shit I did when I was a kid I wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning,”
You had to break into a small sad smile after he said that, nodding your head in an understanding manner.
“And whether or not it was a one time thing or a ‘phase’, no one ever deserves to be assaulted for overdoing it at a party, or anywhere else,” Olivia chimed in. “EVER.”
“Exactly what the Sarge said. Assault is NEVER ok, in ANY circumstance. Even when you think you were ‘slutty’ by sleeping around, those guys are accountable too.” Sonny added. “Taking advantage of an inebriated woman is not okay,”
“AND it was statutory!” Rafael finally spoke up, his fists clenched. It was as if it had taken this entire time for him to fully process your story, and now that he did he was PISSED.
“Okay, Rafa, calm down,” Olivia placed a hand over his.
“No Liv, these guys should all be in prison for having sex with an incapacitated SIXTEEN YEAR OLD”
“Will you knock it off, counselor?” You hit his arm. “I didn’t tell you that story so you would go after a bunch of random idiots for something that happened over 10 years ago!”
“Well they should pay!” Rafael yelled again, but after you softly stroked his shoulder, he seemed to calm down.
“I appreciate the sentiment, Rafa,” you warily threw out the pet name, happy when he responded with a small smile. “But I’m over it. Mostly. On days that aren’t like this,” you added with a joking laugh, trying to ease the tension.
“Well, I really appreciate you telling us the truth, N/A,” Olivia nodded at you, the others followed suit. 
You gave the first genuine smile since you came back in, looking at Rafael. He took your hand once again under the table, giving it three small squeezes. Before you knew what you were doing, your head was dropping onto his shoulder and you were scooting closer into him.
“Get a squad you can trust, right?”
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deepdonutkid · 3 years
Text
Nonsense
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A/N:
This took me way too long! I’m sorry, I was stuck on the Polly part for a while after Helen’s death.
Even though there is a part in the middle, which I’m not really satisfied with, I’m still glad, I finished that chapter. I hope you like it. It’s a little sad for a story, that will later focus on... other stuff.
Tbh... I forgot, if Martha died from a disease or something else. That’s why this part is a little vague. But he will talk more about his dead wife much later in the story.
English is not my first language and this is not beta-read, just a small part of it! Thanks to @retromafia​ for helping me out on this chapter! You’re so lovely!
John as mental health issues, but it’s very different to those of his brothers!
tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl​ @theshelbyclan​ @justalonelyslytherin​
Masterlist Do you wanna touch
____________________
All fucking week he had thought about this date and her. John was distracted at work, at home and at the Garrison. His head was somewhere else, preferably with her, the beautiful Russian girl he had met a couple of days ago. He tried to keep this to himself even though he worried others would start to notice his weird behavior. Well, it was pretty hard to shut up about it, when he sat drunk next to his friends in the pub, but John wasn’t really ready to talk about this. It still felt so surreal like this encounter had never happened and it was all in his head. In addition to that, others- mainly his family- would gladly ruin this for him, before it had even begun, which was why he was so reluctant to talk about it.
They would ask him all sorts of stupid questions, which he couldn’t answer at all. He frowned and closed the book. Later he would meet the mysterious woman again and this was his only chance, since he didn’t know her full name or her address or another way to contact her. So he had to go there or he would go crazy thinking about what might have been. But there was a problem with that.
Of course there was a problem as nothing in his life could be easy. Not even once. However he refused to call his kids a problem. His dad called him like this more than once. And if John wasn’t a problem, his name was either accident or brat. Needless to say John was way nicer to his children than his father was to him. John loved all four of them. He really did, but… somebody had to look after them, while he wasn’t at home. So he had to ask either Polly or Ada and he didn’t know what would be worse.
His sister would spread the word of him having a girlfriend faster around than a disease. Maybe she would even spice up the story a little and add some drama just for the fun of it. Then he wasn’t out for a date, but to meet the woman he had impregnated or what else. And Polly, well she was the main reason he was scared to even mention his rendezvous. His aunt had the great talent to investigate his private life like fucking copper. Once she had sniffed something, she wouldn’t let go of it and kept bothering him.
Anyways he had to talk to one of them and the chat wouldn’t be a nice one. A choice between the foul and the evil. Ugh, he was in the mood to flip a coin. There were some on his desk. So why not? He looked around, if anybody was watching him, but he was alone in his office. Then he took a coin from the daily bets and tossed it. Once it was up in the air, he had made up his mind. The coin just proofed it. He should go to Polly and it would fit in his schedule as now was his lunch break and he would eat with the others anyway. If he would go now, he could still catch her alone in the kitchen. A grunt left his lips while he stood up from his chair. His pace was steady, but fast as he made his way through the betting shop. Luckily nobody noticed that he left his table a little too early.
He had never opened or closed a door as quietly as in this exact moment. “Polly?”, he had asked in a careful tone into the empty room. John heard movements from the kitchen. Suddenly her head peaked around the corner. “Yes, John?” She had emphasized every syllable as if he was stupid. Maybe he was just not ready to have this talk. On the other hand he had no chance. This was a now or never situation and he preferred now over never.
John gathered all his courage to approach her: “Would you do me a little favor?” All the sudden his hands were sweaty and no matter how many times he had rubbed them on his pants, it wouldn’t get any less smeary. Usually he wasn’t so nice and polite to his relatives. It was more like he had earned the title arrogant brat rightfully. He scratched his neck and gave her his best puppy eyes. And just to top it off his angelic smile, which had saved him many times before. Most of the times, he could avoid the consequences of his own actions with his charming smirk.
But today it didn’t help. Polly just shook her head. “What is it this time?”
“Just a little thing”, he began, then paused to take a deep breath and gain courage to exclaim his wish: “Can you watch the kids this evening? It’s really important.”
His aunt froze mid movement and starred at him. After a while she started blinking. Her glare was concerning. “Why this time? The last time was just a week ago. Another task from Tommy? He didn’t talked to me about this.”
John pressed his teeth again and shook his head. He looked at the roof and searched for the right words to explain his situation. Why was this so difficult? It was just a date. Yet it felt like so much more.
The Shelby sighed, while his hand was fumbling with his lighter in the pocket of his pants. “I’m meeting someone” was his short answer to a complex problem.
“Did Tommy ask you to?”, she asked once again. No matter if it was business or his private life, Polly liked to be up to date.
Again he shook his head. “No, not Tommy, but it’s still important. So would you please help me?”
Polly clucked her tongue and hurried back to the kitchen. John followed her and leaned against the door frame, waiting for his answer.
“Well, I got a meeting too, so you better change the appointment with said woman, because I don’t want to change my plans for you”, she replied, while stirring a pot. Afterwards she tapped the wooden spoon against the pot and turned around. “Lunch is ready. Better get your brothers, so we can eat.”
Apparently the conversation was over, because it really started, but John wouldn’t give up right away. “But I can’t”, he protested: “That’s the only night she is available and I don’t know how to reach her.”
Without looking at him, she walked right back into the living room and started putting dished on the table. “Ahh, see? I was right about the woman part… But why do you want to meet somebody you barely know?” Her question was reasonable.
John was so lost in his thought about her and yet he had no answer. No good ones. So he just said the next best thing: “I won a bet and I want to see her.”
Right when he said that his brother came in. Arthur widened his eyes and scratched his chin. “Want to see who?”, he asked. It was horrible how nosy his family was.
There was no peaceful day at the Shelby household. Never ever.
“He has a new girl, but he doesn’t know anything about her”, Polly retorted, before John even had the chance to answer himself.
Arthur chuckled and added: “Oh, Our John was never a man for talking. Right, John boy?”
They had to be fucking kidding him. It felt like he was sixteen again and started to meeting Martha. This was so embarrassing. John nodded slowly and gave his brother a false laugh.
“Well, we had other things to do”, John objected and it wasn’t quite the truth, but close enough. There was just no explanation why he was drawn to this woman, who was a stranger to him, but oh, those kisses really worked some crazy magic on him.
His brother burst out in laughter and slapped his hand on John’s back. “Oh, I know! I fucking know what you mean”, he exclaimed: “Why talk, when you can have fun with a woman?”
And right now, John couldn’t agree less. He wanted to talk with the mysterious woman, but she rushed off into the night before he could even say goodbye to her. Damn, he wished he knew more about her, maybe then he wouldn’t be so nervous right now. The Shelby didn’t feel like his usual cheeky, charming self, more like fucking train wreck.
His face got gleaming red, but he tried to act like was completely cool with it. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to sleep with her. Gosh, what wouldn’t he give to spend the night with her?
“Pol, you see John’s face. He is red like a crayfish”, Arthur joked and pulled his little brother into a headlock.
Their aunt walked around them, very carefully as she was carrying the big steam pot. She sounded like she was mentally everywhere else, when she murmured: “Yes, Arthur, I see it- shameful red- but now it’s time for lunch, so release your brother and come sit.” Somehow Polly managed to phrase it exactly like their mom used to say it, even though she was only three years older than Arthur, but he’d still respect her.
So he did what she asked him to do and let John go again to take a seat at the table.
It was the perfect timing to beg Polly once again, because he didn’t want to have the same conversation with his sister. “Polly, Please”, he insisted: “I wouldn’t ask you, if it wasn’t really important to me.”
“What is so important about one woman, that you have the great urge to meet her?”
That was the question he was asking himself all week, but okay. Now he needed to come up with an answer or otherwise he would have to get comfortable with the thought he would never see her again.
He licked his lips as he assembled the words in his brain to a convincing answer. “She has…”, he began, but then he got lost again.
“Huge cans?”, Arthur purposed with a big smile on his face.
But John shook his head: “Not that, her tits are average, there is something else about her and I can’t say what yet, that’s why I need to find out…. Or I go crazy.”
He turned to Polly and put on his puppy eyes again. “Do you want me to go crazy, Polly?”
Pol pouted and sighed. “Fine, you get your will again, but that’s the last time and don’t ever bother me with this again.”
His eyes shined bright in the lights of success and more importantly… winning an argument with his aunt. “Thank you and I’ll never bother you again.”
The matriarch went her way around her reign and said to herself: “We’ll see about that.”
Now this problem found its solution, the next question popped up in his head. Where were his kids? Because he was so caught up with his date, he had forgotten to pick them up from school. It wasn’t a serious issue. Three of them could walk home on their own, but the youngest was a different thing.
In his memory of this day, he had left Katie here, but she wasn’t running around like usually. “Pol, where are the kids?”
“The kids?”, she observed: “Oh, the kids you want to get rid of? You mean… those kids? They are upstairs.”
John grunted. That was far from reality and his aunt should know that. “That’s bullshit. I don’t want to get rid of them.”
“Then act like you care for them once instead of fucking around and I might believe you”, Polly chided and gave him the mean side eye, while she filled the plates with stew.
And she acted like a real bitch lately, John wanted to add, but bid his lip to stop himself from saying something he would regret deeply. It was so annoying how she tried to make him feel guilty for having a night off. He was so sick of this. Either he was working or he was with his kids and he had little or no time for himself. Just the few hours when they were asleep and he could go to the Garrison for a beer or two.
“It’s just one date!”, he yelled, but then clenched his fists and swallowed his anger and repeated quietly: “It’s just one date.”
The room was quiet now. Nobody said or did anything for a while.
Then Polly started moving again and explained: “You should focus on getting a wife and not play around with some floosy girl… but you’re an adult now, John, so do whatever you want… just don’t drag me into your mess.”
John nodded and went upstairs to get his kids. Yes, he was still bitter about the things Polly said to him, but he wouldn’t let this ruin his day. After all he had plans. Maybe he gripped the banister a little too tight, well, at least he didn’t bellowed at his children, when he found them making a mess in his old room.
All four were sitting here and around them were all the toys they had. Most of them were his old toys or some from his brothers.
“Lunch is ready”, he grunted and waited for them to get up, so they would follow him. They just stared at him with wide eyes.
His oldest daughter was the first to talk: “We heard you yell at Aunt Polly…”
He didn’t answer instead he just moaned and leaned against the wall.
“You’re away tonight”, she added and tilted her head. There was curiosity in her eyes. It didn’t bother him, but something else did. She had the same eyes as her mother. Like a dagger it pierced his heart, whenever she gave him this look. Martha used to do this as well.
Slowly he nodded. He couldn’t lie to his kids at all. “Yes, but you’ll be staying here and Polly will bring you home, when it’s bed time.”
Breanna thought about this for a second and then like this whole conversation had never happened, she stood up and helped her little sister to get on her feet as well. “Well, it’s time for lunch now”, she declared and look at her twin brother: “C’mon, James, we still got homework to do.”
Now that she was standing, John could see how small she was actually. Sometimes he forgot, she was still a child, but the way she acted was different. His oldest daughter had picked up a lot from Polly and her mother, while he was in France. However he tried to not treat her like an adult. She wasn’t and her childhood shouldn’t be ripped from her. Breanna didn’t need to protect her siblings from anything and yet she still thought it was her job.
James on the other hand was quite the opposite. Loud, angry, such a brat, he picked up fight, whenever he could, much like his father at that age.
Luckily his older brother Colin was also a voice of reason and not as chaotic as James. Colin was the oldest and he didn’t actually talk much, but on somedays and with certain persons he wouldn’t shut up. Most of the time Colin did good in school, read a lot, unlike his uncle Finn who was just five years older than him. And more importantly… Colin did everything his father asked him to.
And then here was Katie, the youngest. Just three years old and a sweet girl, but she was of fragile condition. She was born prematurely and was also the reason why Martha died. John tried to ignore the fact, because even though she was the reason, it wasn’t her fault. How could she? She didn’t pick her time to be born. However from time to time, Katie managed to make him cry. After the war, he rarely shed tears, but every time she was sick and he had to go with her to the hospital, he lost his nerves. She was still his little baby and the thought of losing her too wrecked him.
They were all on their way downstairs and John followed them back. He held Katie’s hands while walking down the stairs.
The lunch was very silent. There was still tension left in the room, but John didn’t cared. Katie was sitting on his lap and they both ate from the same plate, like they always did. But it wasn’t a cute ritual, more like a space problem, with all the family members around the table, it was a little cramped. Too cramped for Katie to have her own stool. Another reason, why he needed a wife. So he and his family could eat in his kitchen and they would all have enough space again.
A part of John was worried Polly or Arthur mentioned his date to Tommy, who would gladly take the opportunity to ruin his day. His older brother would pick all the question, John had been asking all week and then make him look stupid in front of the whole family. But apparently Polly was too pissed about the fight to say anything that day and John thanked god for this.
Somehow Katie spilled the stew all over his pants, but he had no time to go back home and change his pants. He still needed to finish the books and after that, he could get dressed for his date.
So John sat in his office in a damp suit and tried to fix what he did wrong before lunch.
Maybe the luck was on his side today after all, because he managed to get everything done early. Somethings didn’t went as smooth as he had wished for, but at least it worked out so well, that he could go to the date and it was still a win for him.
As fast as possible without running he walked home and sprinted up the stairs to the master bedroom. Now he could change his cloths and he was indeed very happy about it. The stew had dried on his leg, which made his skin itchy. Basically he ripped his clothes off the second he arrived in his room.
“Fuck.” A curse left his lips, because he got stuck in his pants and almost hit the floor. Last second he got his balance back and then threw his pants in the opposite direction. He could care about this later.
First he had to clean the stains from his body. So he rushed to the kitchen, just in his underwear and rubbed his leg with a wet cloth. This had to be enough. With the time he had left, he couldn’t take a bath.
Back in his room again, he stood in front of the cabinet and picked the first suit he had in his hand. There was no discussion about this. Suits were suits and he had plenty of them, all of them looked good on him and she wouldn’t even mind, would she?
While he button up his shirt, he stopped all the sudden. What if she would mind? Slowly he walked backwards to the cabinet. Should he wear his Sunday suit? Thought and thoughts came rushing in. She seemed like a fine lady, but yet she agreed to meet with him. Maybe she wouldn’t, if it wasn’t for the bet.
He got headache since his argument with Polly and it got worse. Maybe he would go to the spot, where they should meet and she wasn’t there. The possibility, that she tricked him, hadn’t occurred in his mind until now.
Honestly, John felt so stupid, when he realized how weird the coincidence was. What were his chances to be so lucky? To meet a beautiful, wealthy and unmarried woman, who was also funny and charming and mysterious and he could find a ton more of adjectives to describe her? And then win the round and the bet, he had made with her? What were his chances for that? So either he was one of the luckiest men in this world or a goddamn idiot.
Or maybe… his mind tricked him. He was pretty drunk after all and in his twisted mind the details of this scene got lost. Maybe he didn’t win the round, but because he wished so bad for it, he had changed his memory of that said night. Maybe he was so lonely he made up this perfect woman, because he couldn’t bare his poor existence anymore.
And did he think about his stupid suit so much?
Yes, he was nervous, but this was no explanation for this nonsense.
Right now, John was freaking out about a woman he barely knew. It reminded him of a time, where he did the same thing… but with Martha, a girl he had known all his life. Back then and today he was well aware of why he was so nervous around his first wife. He loved her and he was afraid of saying or doing something very stupid.
But he didn’t loved that Russian woman. He couldn’t, not after only one kiss. It was impossible and yet the kiss felt so real. The memory of her lips was burned into his mind and it drove him crazy.
And he didn’t know, why he had this feeling, which wasn’t love and he didn’t even know what it was, and suddenly he had more questions in his head than he ever had in his whole life.
Usually, he didn’t think that much about anything. He wasn’t the guy who put much thought into every little thing that happened around him.
Everything he wanted to do now was to yell. He couldn’t even put his frustration into words anymore.  His head was full of white noise.
Barefooted he stood on the wooden floor of his bedroom, which he used to share with the love of his life. John took a few deep breaths and looked around. Everything was still the same. After the war he had no energy to change something in here, even though it was just fueling his mental health issues. There was still her cabinet with her dresses and her stuff and sometimes when he was particularly lonely, he felt the fabric and imagined her soft body under it. It didn’t smell like Martha anymore, but sometimes he wished.
It felt like suffocating. He couldn’t breathe nor cry, even though tears filled his eyes.
He walked over to his nightstand and looked at the photograph of her. “You don’t get to fucking judge me”, he whispered: “Like you always did. You died and I’m still here and I love you and I always will, but don’t ruin this for me.”
“You put all these questions in my head, so I’ll fuck up and ruin everything”, he argued… with his dead wife like she was there. And he could imagine her so well, standing next to him with her arms crossed in front of her chest and that piercing look in her eyes.
Even before she died, he talked a lot to her and about her and sometimes just to himself, but it just got worse, when he came home from France. He can’t handle the silence in the room nor the void his head. Suddenly he said with a soft voice: “I know, what I promised you back then and when I made that promise, I believed every word of it, but you can’t be the only woman I’ll ever love now. You are dead.”
He wasn’t there when she died and the worst part was… he hadn’t even known until he got home. Polly said, she was about to write a letter, but then she couldn’t, because she didn’t want to bother him, while he was in the trenches. Of course, he had worries, when he didn’t get a letter from his wife in months. John just thought she was mad at him, because she was pregnant again while he was away. And then he came home and his house was empty. No Martha and no kids. So he walked back to Polly’s Place and then she told him. His wife was dead and he was surrounded by his family, but he had never felt so lonely in the world.
To this very day, this memory haunted him in the worst way.
And yet, he refused to crumble right away. Not before it had even started. Life was going on and he refused to just stand there, while the time passed. He would walk, run away from this memory if he had to.
“Let me try it at least”, he bargained: “You don’t know her and neither do I. She could be a beast, a real bitch and maybe, just maybe I don’t want to see her again. And maybe I’ll do, but that’s not your decision. I make my own decisions now, because that’s how things work for the living people, Martha.”
It hurt to say her name, but he had to. The word had so much power over him and he took this power back, by saying it. Then he flipped the photograph over and walked back to the cabinet.
Without a second doubt he picked his finest suit and just like that Martha was gone. She would come back eventually, but right now he had other things to do. Like do his hair and drink a little sip of whiskey for confidence.
With a toothpick in his mouth, he left the house and walked the road. All alone.
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cheeriecherry · 4 years
Text
Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [2/9]
EraserMic x Reader
Part 2/8
Warnings: depictions of PTSD, one (1) mention of vomiting (nothing graphic), very brief mention of violence (also nothing graphic), your friends being concerned about you, hugs
You wake up the next morning with a very sore, very stiff neck. You appreciate your friends putting you up for a while, but between the two of them they had terrible taste in furniture. In fact, you’re pretty certain their couch is the same couch you three shared when you first got your own place together…
You sit up on the lumpy cushions, wincing when your spine crackles. When you move to stand you find that you can’t, held in place by previously unnoticed twin weights on your blanketed legs. Your heart rate speeds up for a moment, before you realize it’s just a pair of cats sleeping on you.
You carefully finagle your way out from under them, taking extra care not to rouse or wake them. One of them chirps and stretches, and you pause, but she quickly falls back to sleep, tucked up against her companion.
Once you’re free, you wander towards the kitchen to find something to eat. Hizashi had offered to order takeout last night, but you were nearly dead on your feet by the time you walked into the house. You’d gone straight to bed, and now you had to deal with the stomach cramps.
You search around in the pantry and fridge for a while, finding few things more than rice, bread, condiments, and a couple canned goods. It made sense, considering how busy your friends were, but it was also a little ridiculous.
“You’d think two grown men could handle some grocery shopping,” you mumble, and settle on some rice, eggs, and toast. Not your ideal breakfast, but it was better than nothing.
You prepare the rice and set a pan on the stove in a haze, still muddled with sleep. Once both are sufficiently rinsed and warming, you set the rice off to cook and plop down at the kitchen table, where you notice a folded paper sitting. With your name on it.
Curious, you flip it open, instantly recognizing Hizashi’s messy writing.
‘Sho and I had to head out early, but we didn’t want to wake you. You were tossing a lot in your sleep.’
You think briefly back to the dreams you’d had, if you’d even had any. You usually had nightmares, but oftentimes you didn’t remember them, only waking with a hollow and sinking feeling in your chest.
‘You’ve got free run of the place, so use and eat what you want. Be warned, there’s not a lot in the fridge…we don’t really eat at home much. If you need the internet, Sho’s laptop is in the office across from the bedroom. See you tonight around ten!
-H’
You smile at the note, the signature consisting of a single letter, with a poor rendition of a cockatiel and a cat beside it.
You’re glad they have each other, you decide, and glad they’ve gotten together. It shouldn’t have been so much of a surprise to you, Hizashi was always more interested in Shouta than he was you. Sure, he doted on you when you were kids, but when Shouta came into the picture his attention shifted. You admit you had been a little jealous in the beginning, but now…
Maybe you’d just supposed it would always be the three of you together. You’d never bothered with dating or relationships, aside from the feelings you harboured for your best friends. You never saw the point, always content and happy to be with the two of them, even if it wasn’t romantic. They had been your rocks, your safe place, in years past.
You hadn’t comprehended that your interests could be so drastically different.
“C’mon, shake it off, stupid. They’re happy together, don’t ruin it with your feelings.” You run your hands down your face, sighing deeply. The rice would be ready soon, so you might as well get started on the eggs.
You butter a piece of bread and cut a hole out of the center, dropping it in the frying pan and cracking an egg into it. 
Egg In A Hole, one of the first things you’d ever learned to cook. You were seven when you’d first tried it, and Hizashi had been there as well. You’d been at your house after school and he’d claimed to be hungry, and you -ever wanting to impress him- had set a stool in front of the stove and made him the fanciest meal you could think of.
Looking back, you’re amazed you didn’t burn or undercook anything. He had claimed it was the most amazing thing he’d ever tasted, and for years it was a staple whenever you hung out… he’d hopped off that train by the time you were twelve, but every so often you’d still made him Eggs In A Hole.
Now it’s more of a comfort, more of you holding on to a time long passed. Things were different now, you were different, your friends were different-
“Shit!” you hiss, as the toast starts to burn in one corner, smoking up the kitchen. You turn the fan on and flip it over to cook the other side, sighing in relief when the egg doesn’t splatter everywhere.
You’re glad you weren’t sent undercover as a cook on your mission. Your skills in the kitchen are sub par at best, and where you’d been, nothing less than perfection was accepted. Anything burnt or under-seasoned would have been air for punishment; fingernails ripped off, palms cut up, thumbs broken. Anything that would further hinder work…and result in more punishment.
That was just the kind of person your target was. A rich american woman with a taste for torture, and a quirk that allowed her to feast on and destroy the hope in others. She had ‘hired’ you as a silent killer, despite the fact that she could easily kill people herself…or make them kill themselves.
You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, willing the thoughts away. You weren’t there anymore. You were here, with Hizashi, with Shouta. Safe. Safe.
You scoop the eggs and toast onto a plate, but your stomach has already turned. Memories didn’t pair well with breakfast, it seemed.
Once the rice is finished cooking, you wrap everything up and set it in the fridge for later, and continue going about your day.
—-
Ten PM rolls around before you know it, and your friends walk through the front door. You’ve stolen Shouta’s laptop from the office and moved it to the couch, where you now sit staring intensely at the screen.
The two of them watch you for a moment. If your stillness, posture, and bloodshot eyes are anything to go by, you’ve been like that for a while.
“You’re gonna hurt your back sitting like that,” Shouta says, kicking his boots off and wandering further into the house.
“In a second,” you reply, waving him off.
Hizashi sighs dramatically, crossing his arms. “She’s not even paying attention, Sho. We could be making out right now, and she wouldn’t even notice. Hey, watch this-”
“Hizashi,” you threaten, not looking away from the screen, “if you pull your pants down, I’ll shave your head while you sleep.”
“No fun.” But he removes his hands from his jeans anyways.
Shouta meanders up behind you, leaning over the back of the couch to see what you’re so intent on. “What’s got you so focused?” he asks, scanning the page you’re reading, “You were never like this in school.”
You remain stoic, missing the joke completely. “Conviction trials,” you explain, “I want to make sure every single one of those rich pricks I outed gets put behind bars. I’ve been scrounging news outlets since five.”
“And?”
“Nothing.” You sit up straighter, stretching your back and rubbing at your eyes. “I gave the commission enough information to put these people in prison for life! Why haven’t they been brought in yet!”
“You’ve only been out for a little while. These things take time.” His tone is gentle and concerned, but to your addled brain it feels more patronizing.
You fist your hair in your hands and tug. “I gave them hideouts, names, faces, addresses, bank numbers, concrete evidence against these people! A few days should be enough time to find them! They’re top priority criminals! They should be caught by now!”
A warm hand rests on your shoulder, jarring you violently out of your thoughts. You tense beneath the touch, electricity prickling down your arm, and you look up at him with wide eyes.
“Breathe,” he says.
You breathe.
He squeezes your shoulder slightly, comfortingly. “It’ll happen. Give the media time to catch up.”
You look away from him, finding a spot on the floor to stare at, and slump forward in defeat. “If it gets out that I was the snitch, too…”
The room is quiet for a couple beats as your words register, and the hand on your shoulder rubs soft circles into your skin. “Your partner…they were killed, weren’t they.” It’s not a question, merely an observation.
You nod.
“I can’t let them find me, Shouta. The way these people kill their targets-”
“You’re safe here, Y/N. Always. The chances of these criminals getting into the country undetected is between slim and none. Their faces will be plastered on every single no-fly list, every district wanted list.”
“They can do whatever they want, as long as they have the money.” You turn back to the laptop, continuing to scroll around various news outlets. “Even once they’re in prison, they’ll have outside connections. If they find out it was me who outed their whole operation, I’ll have a target on my back for the rest of my life.”
Shouta lets go of your shoulder, and walks around the couch to take a seat beside you, knees bumping against yours.
“There are…resources,” he begins, choosing his words carefully, “for heroes who’ve been undercover. To help them readjust to everyday life-”
“I don’t need a therapist,” you hiss, scowling. “I need…I need-”
A pair of hands scoops the laptop out of your grip, flipping it closed and setting it aside. But before you can complain, your now-warmed-up plate of food from that morning is set in your lap, and Hizashi takes a seat on your other side.
“If you don’t want a therapist, then at least take care of yourself, okay? Eat.”
Your scowl persists as you chew.
—-
You jolt awake on the couch at an unbeknownst hour of the morning, covered head to toe in a thin sheen of sweat. Your head is spinning and your ears are ringing, and you barely make it to the bathroom before you’re dry heaving into the sink. Nothing comes up, save for bitter bile, but you’re exhausted once the short wave of nausea passes.
You rinse your mouth and the sink out, and splash some water on your face. With any luck, you won’t have woken anyone, but when you exit the bathroom you nearly walk face first into Shouta, who’s leaning beside the door.
“It sounded like you were getting sick.” His tone isn’t accusing, but his posture puts your guard up.
“Nothing came out, so it’s fine.”
You wander back to the living room, hoping to leave the conversation, but he only follows.
“Why were you getting sick in the first place?”
“I dunno,” you grumble tensely, “adrenaline reaction maybe? Who’s to say why people puke.”
He’s quiet for several moments, observing you, your fidgeting, your agitation. You feel like you’re under a microscope, with the way he’s looking at you.
“What happened to you out there?” he asks.
“Stuff,” you mutter.
I got people killed.
“Stuff that gives you nightmares every time you sleep?”
“I don’t need a therapist.”
I don’t deserve to come back from this.
“Your sleep-yelling woke me up. You’re lucky Hizashi wears earplugs.”
You turn away from him and grab your water bottle off the coffee table, plopping grumpily onto the couch. Shouta hesitates for a moment before finding a seat beside you again. Warmth radiates off his body, which is pressed comfortingly against your side. You can feel the tension easing out of your shoulders in his presence.
“What’s so bad about therapists, anyways?” he asks, genuinely curious. “Lots of people need them. Hizashi and I have both seen a couple over the years.”
“I don’t need someone to tell me there’s something wrong with me.”
Shouta sighs. “That’s not what they do, and you know it. What’s the real reason?”
You silently curse his ability to read you like a book, to always somehow know when you’re lying. But…you’re not sure you could tell him the truth.
“I just…don’t like the idea, okay? Leave it at that.”
He watches you silently, searching in your averted gaze for any willingness to open up, but he finds only sadness…and shame. “I should head back to bed, then. Early morning, and whatnot. Try and get some more sleep.”
He rises off the couch, and without thinking you follow suit, and quickly envelope him in a hug.
“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest. He’s surprised for a moment, but is quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you tight while you tremble against him. 
He pats small circles into you back, keeping you close until your breathing begins to even out. “Just…don’t let this go on for too long, okay?” It’s the closest you’ve ever heard him to begging, “I don’t know what happened to you out there, but you’re obviously suffering.”
You pull away slightly, tired and defeated, and nod. “I’ll look into it. Those resources you mentioned. Okay?”
You release each other fully, and he gives you one last pat to the head.
“Okay. Now, really, try and get some more sleep.”
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barbershop-fourtet · 4 years
Text
So the weekly prompt on the discord was “Shake It Up” and this fic fits that in a few ways. I’ve had it sitting unfinished for a few months, so I finally decided to finish it as a LW, which was something that I didn’t have much experience in (it would have been my first, but a conversation in the creators’ lounge led to me getting super excited over another idea and LWing that one the day before I finished this one). Also, I mostly write angst, so I wanted to focus on one of my fluff pieces this week. I didn’t edit it as much as I would have liked, but I’m still pretty satisfied with the results.
Anyway, enjoy a Four sickfic with a side of dad!Time.
~~~
“Hey Four, are you feeling okay?”
Hyrule’s concerned statement caught Time’s attention. Turning toward the back of the group, he caught a glimpse of Four’s slightly startled expression. “I’m… fine, why do you ask?”
“You’ve been lagging behind a bit, are you tired? I’m sure we can rest if you need.”
Four waved him off. “I’ve just got a slight headache and I’m a bit dizzy, there’s not much you can do about that and it’ll probably be fine soon enough anyway.”
Hyrule didn’t look convinced, but relented, opting instead to walk alongside the smithy. “Alright, but if you need anything, I’m sure we’d all be willing to stop.”
“He’s right,” Time called back from the front of the group. “We’d rather you be feeling alright than have you burn yourself out.”
“I know, but it’s not worth stopping for. Really, I’m fine, we can keep going.”
Time didn’t miss the slight hesitation in his voice, but let it slide, and the group continued on. Every so often, he could hear Hyrule checking up on Four, but his exact response was lost over the din of the group. He trusted that the traveler could keep a close eye on Four and gauge whether he was able to continue or not.
Sure enough, after only a couple hours Hyrule called up to Time at the front of the group. “We need to stop for the night, Four needs to rest.”
“What, I’m fine, what are you talking about…”
“Four…” Sky whispered, gentle concern in his voice, “I know you want to keep going, but... you’re really not.”
Time only had to take one look at Four to see what they were referencing. He was incredibly pale, and even from this distance Time could tell he was shivering, despite how warm it was outside. Despite his insisting words, he was leaning almost entirely onto Hyrule, unable to stand on his own. 
Despite this, he persisted. “No, it’s fine, we’re not too far, I can make it.” But even as he said this, he pressed himself further into Hyrule, the other boy wrapping his arm around the shivering smithy.
The group had stopped walking at this point, all of them looking at him with concern. Time made his way toward Four, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I know you don’t want to slow us down, but we’d rather stop and let you rest before trying to continue. Are you willing to stop for now?”
The teen was silent for a few moments, and Time thought he would continue to fight, but he eventually muttered a small “alright, if… if you insist.”
Time nodded, then turned to address the rest of the group. “We’ll stop here for now. Let’s make camp and settle in for the night. I know it’s early, but the sooner we let Four rest, the sooner he’ll be better.”
They all nodded, grabbing their gear from Epona and setting up for the evening. As Hyrule walked by, Time grabbed his sleeve. “Would you mind staying with Four and looking after him tonight? I’d feel best if he wasn’t left to do his own thing.”
He nodded. “I can’t stay up all night with him, but I’ll keep an eye on him until night falls.”
“That’s fine, whoever is on watch can check on him occasionally, but I want someone making sure he doesn’t try anything stupid until he falls asleep. He’s smart, but he’s also just as stubborn as the rest of us, and probably doesn’t like the fact that we had to stop for him. He needs to rest, otherwise he won’t be ready to keep moving.”
Hyrule nodded, then made his way over to Wild, who was digging through his bag beside Epona. A few whispered words were exchanged, then Wild pressed a piece of flint and some firewood into Hyrule’s arms. He took a few steps away toward a clear piece of earth, and within moments a small blaze was crackling gently.
Returning to Four, he gently grasped the smaller boy’s arm and led him over to the fire, sitting him down closeby. Despite his earlier words, Four didn’t protest, only curling in on himself and leaning closer to the warmth.
Sky walked past, shrugging off his sailcloth and wrapping it around the smithy, earning him a grateful look. Twilight did similarly with his pelt, then Warriors with his scarf and Wild with his cloak, until Four was buried under a pile of warmth.
The evening proceeded mostly as normal, the notable exception being Hyrule’s insistence that he help Four eat. Four probably would have rolled his eyes and turned down the help, except for that fact that he was both too weak to lift his bowl, and that his hands were still trapped under all the fabric.
As the sun started to set, his head began to bob as he started nodding off by the fire.
Hyrule was quick to notice this. “Come on, it’s late and you need rest. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Wait.” They both turned at Legend’s voice, watching him dig through his bag. “I’ve got just the thing in here that should help- aha!” Pulling out a small bottle, he tossed it to Hyrule. “This won’t get rid of whatever he’s dealing with, but it should help it pass quicker.”
Hyrule nodded, letting Four down the potion before helping him take off his tunic and settle into the pile of blankets the others had set up for him.
The others, taking this as the cue that the day was over, began settling into their own bedrolls, Hyrule placing himself by the fire to keep the first watch.
~~~
When Warriors had woken him up, he'd said that his watch was uneventful, and a few hours later, Time was finding his own to be similar. Good. It would be best to have an easy night, Four definitely needed rest.
And speaking of Four…
Time leaned over and shook Sky gently, waiting a few moments for him to wake up.
“My turn?”
“Yup.”
He nodded, reaching for his gear and beginning to slip it on. “Alright. How’s Four doing?”
“I was about to check on him. Keep an eye on things, would ya?”
“Of course.”
With that, Time stood, walking over to his blankets and stripping off his armor. Dropping it beside the rest of his gear, he carefully picked his way through the tangle of bodies until he could kneel down at the smithy’s side.
The boy was restless, tossing and turning every few seconds. His shivering had stopped hours prior, but where his skin was once pale, it was now flushed a deep red. His breathing was slightly strained, and when Time put his palm against his forehead, he almost flinched at how hot it burned.
Legend’s potion seemed to be working though. Already a thin sheen of sweat beaded his skin, indicating that his fever had broken. If it continued at this pace, he’d probably be well by morning.
Time was almost too caught up in his thoughts to see Four’s eyes flutter open, glazed over as he glanced at the older man. He started slightly as Four shifted under his hand, moaning slightly as he turned his neck to face Time.
“Hey kid, how are you feeling?”
He mumbled something incoherent, but before Time could ask for clarification, he began to sit up, whining softly as his body protested the movement.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there, it’s been a rough day for you.”
“...”
“Pardon?”
“I have to get up.”
“No you don’t, you need to keep resting, besides it’s late.”
“I can’t, you always complain when I sleep in late and you have to start up the forge without me.”
...now Time was confused. Was Four delirious? Did he think he was talking to someone else?
As quick as he could, Time racked his brain. Four had mentioned the forge, which meant there was someone he worked with as a blacksmith. The only other blacksmith Four had ever mentioned had been-
Oh Hylia, Four had mistaken Time for his grandfather.
“Wait, Four, I’m not-”
Time paused. Four always spoke of his grandfather so affectionately, but also with a tinge of sadness. Despite his experience being away from home, it was clear that the long separation from his only family member was difficult for him.
He certainly wasn’t any less capable or mature than the others but… he was still a kid, far from home and missing his family. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to fib a little this one time. Besides, he wasn’t likely to remember it anyway.
Lowering himself fully to the ground, Time grasped Four’s hand in his own. “Don’t worry about it, Link. I can manage on my own, you go back to sleep so you get better.”
Four looked conflicted. “Are you sure? I may not be at my best, but I can still help out a bit. I’m probably gonna have trouble falling asleep again anyway.”
“It’s fine. Lay back down, and I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep again.”
“No, it’s fine! You can go get things started for t-”
“Link. It’s fine, I want to help you.”
Four hesitated, and Time thought he would keep fighting, but after a few moments, he relented. “O-okay then, I guess if you don’t mind.”
Time nodded, expecting him to lay back down as he had been before.
But Four apparently had other plans, and decided to turn and curl up right next to the older man, slinging one arm around his waist as he settled beside him.
Time stiffened, but Four’s tension quickly began to disappear as he relaxed into Time’s side. He was about to say something, or subtly move Four off of him, but then-
“Thanks grandpa.”
-and Time’s heart melted a little, and there was no chance that he could move away now. Wrapping an arm around Four, he gently lowered them both onto the ground, him laying flat and Four’s body resting on his own, blankets strewn around them. Four hummed softly, pressing his ear to Time’s chest, letting his echoing heartbeat soothe him, and Time couldn’t help but imagine that this was what it was like to have a child, to be a father. To have a child. He and Malon hadn’t had that opportunity yet, but since he’d met them, these boys were his sons.
He couldn’t deny it- that was what they were to him. As mature and capable as they all were, they would always have that place in his heart.
Time was silent, trying to comprehend the wave of emotion that was crashing over him, when Four hoarsely spoke up.
“...I don’t feel great.”
He chuckled softly, conscious of how Four bounced with the movement of his chest and not wanting to disturb him. “You had a pretty bad fever, you need to rest and you’ll feel better in the morning.”
“...I can’t wait to get better so I can introduce you to my friends, they’re really nice people.”
Oh, this will be interesting. “I can’t wait to meet them, they sound wonderful.”
Four nodded, curling further into Time’s side. “They are. We’re always looking out for each other, and despite everything they’ve been through, they’re some of the sweetest, softest people you'll ever meet.” He paused. “Being with the other guys… it’s kinda like when I was four… being in a group is nice, ‘cause I don’t have to be alone.”
Time wasn’t sure what had happened when the boy was four years old, but it was probably good, given how fondly he was speaking of it.
“They’re really crazy and wild, and some of ‘em are pretty hotheaded, but they all care about each other… and me.” Time couldn’t see his face, but he could hear the smile in Four’s voice. “Especially Time, he’s really great. He acts all stoic and serious but…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t remember dad much, but… I imagine that he was something like Time, always so loving and caring, always looking out for us. We’re not blood related, but he’s… he’s like our dad, you know?” His head drooped as he began to nod off again, not noticing the emotion he was causing in Time. “He’s a really good dad, too…”
Time was not crying. He was not.
“Anyway, I can’t wait for you to see them. I think you’ll love them too.” He yawned, the last of the tension leaving his body. “...g’night grandpa. I love you.”
...okay maybe he was crying. “...goodnight Link. I love you too.”
~~~
Time woke to the feeling of Four stirring beside him. Lifting his head, he cracked his eye open to see the smithy blinking at him, eyes still bleary with sleep. “T-Time?” he croaked out. He coughed a bit, voice hoarse from sickness and disuse. “What- where…?”
“You were sick, remember? We stopped to let you rest.” Leaning over, he rested his hand on Four’s temple, noting with pleasure how much it had cooled overnight, with only a bit of sweat still covering his skin.
He blinked, squinting as he tried to recall the previous night. “...oh.” He glanced at Time, a tense look on his face as he reached for his gear. “Uh, I didn’t say or do anything weird, did I? I have a tendency to get pretty delirious when I have a fever.”
“...you were a bit… affectionate, but that’s it about it.”
“Oh.” He relaxed a little, fingering the stitching of his tunic before pulling it over his head. “That’s good, because I tend to ramble about weird things when I’m sick, so I didn’t want to confuse any of you or something.”
Time nodded, glancing to where Wild was dishing up food from a cooking pot over the fire. “It looks like breakfast is ready, do you want me to grab you some?”
“No, I can get it, I’m-” Four stood, only to wobble and fall back onto his knees. “...okay maybe that would help.”
Time chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Four’s hair. “Stay here and get yourself a bit more awake, I’ll bring you something.”
He stood, but was distracted by a small noise from Four. He turned, noting the contemplative look on the smith’s face, and kneeled down beside him.
“Are you alright?”
“Huh?” He glanced up, realizing that Time was still watching. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine, just thinking about something.” He paused, hands clenched in his blanket. “Last night, I- did you… I had this dream that…” His gaze dropped to his lap, watching his fingers twist his blanket into knots. “...nevermind, it’s probably nothing.” He smiled gently as he glanced back up. “Thanks for all your help.”
Time nodded, rising off the ground to check what Wild was cooking.
As he was walking away, he heard Four mumble something behind him.
He glanced back over his shoulder, noting the way Four’s cheeks were red and he was refusing to meet Time’s eye. “Pardon?”
His blush deepened before he met Time’s gaze with a soft look in his eyes. His response was a soft whisper, but Time heard it clear as day.
“Thanks, dad.”
~Bonus~
They emerged from the portal, looking around to see if any of them recognized the area.
All of them except Four, who immediately let out a surprised cheer.
“This is the Minish Woods! We’re not too far from my house, we can head there to rest up.”
Time nodded. “Lead on then, the sooner we’re there, the sooner we can plan our next move.”
Four grinned, grabbing the closest hand- Wild’s- and dragging it down the path between the trees.
“We landed right by the entrance of the woods, and it’s only a short walk from there, hurry up!”
They hurried after him, amused by his excitement, until they reached the door of a lone house.
Four didn’t hesitate, opting to throw it open and yell “Grandpa, I’m home!”
...no response came.
Four frowned, eyes searching the room, before walking into a side room, calling out for his grandfather again.
He returned to the main room, a concerned look on his face. “I don’t understand, he’s normally here, working in the forge, I don’t know why-”
“Of course it’s when I decide to leave for just a few minutes that my grandson comes home.”
Four’s face split into the biggest grin imaginable as he raced forward and tackled the man in the doorway.
“Good to see you again kid, but where have you been, young man?”
Four giggled, pulling back slightly and wiping a few tears off his cheeks. “The same old hero-ing, you know how it is.”
“Of course I do, it took you away from home for long enough when you were young. Well-” he glanced at the others, who were watching the reunion from a respectful distance. “Younger, at least. Younger than these boys, by any means. I’m assuming these are the ones you’ve been writing me so many letters about?”
Four nodded eagerly, stepping back and gesturing for the others to come closer. “Yeah! These are my friends that I’ve wanted you to meet.”
The introductions went smoothly, with a few rolled eyes (Legend when Four called him a hoarder) and shy looks (Wild when Four referred to him as a pyro).
And then Four got around to introducing Time.
“This is…” Four blushed, his gaze dropping to his shuffling feet. “This is… well, he’s the responsible one of the group, kinda like… the dad. He’s the one doing his best to keep us from doing something stupid.”
Smith- as he’d asked them to call him- laughed, extending a hand toward Time. “Well, it’s nice to see that there’s someone keeping an eye out for my boy.”
Time smiled, clasping his outstretched arm and shaking firmly. “He does that well enough on his own, actually. If anything, he helps me keep the other wild ones in line.”
“Well, you’ve only seen what’s happened when he’s alone. If there were four just like him, well, that’d be-”
“Aaaaaand that’s enough of that story! I’m sure we can have time for stuff like that later,” Four cut in, cheeks red. “They, uh, don’t need to know that kind of stuff, grandpa.”
“Oh, you’ve been pretty mature around them, haven’t you? They haven’t seen your… colorful side, have they?”
Four pouted. “No, they haven’t seen it yet, and I don’t feel like changing that right now.”
Smith chuckled, wrapping his arm around Four’s shoulder. “Well, that’s too bad. All the same, I missed you, kid.”
Four sighed, leaning into his grandfather’s embrace, a content smile on his face. “I missed you too, grandpa.”
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batcathuntress · 4 years
Text
an unfortunate obsession
set in: season 10 
pairing: aaron hotchner x daughter!reader 
summary: you have a creepy stalker, reader is 17
tw: mention of dead people, stalker and that’s about it 
__________ 
you wanted to be a profiler when you grew up, not at all surprising considering your dad’s one and when he told you he was so excited because well you are basically a little him and that’s why the team mostly refer to you as baby Hotchner and Aaron would have stopped them if he didn’t secretly think it was adorable but with being a profiler comes the daily violence and endless pile of bodies from the people they couldn’t save and knowing what it’s done to him and the team he secretly at times wished that you would change your mind, that you could stay innocent from the horrors forever but life never seemed to favour Aaron so when you entered this horrific side of his life earlier than expected he found himself having a hard time handling it lord knows it made your life harder too
you rushed out of the elevator of the BAU on an already gloomy Monday afternoon and shakily dropped the box you were carrying onto the closest desk which happened to be Kate Callahan’s the bang got the attention of the rest of the team
“y/n, sweetie what’s wrong?” you heard JJ ask and you pointed at the box trying to get the words out but every time you opened your mouth you felt like you were going to be sick, Morgan walked around you and carefully opened the box before slightly jumping back when he saw what was inside, everyone gathered around and covered their noses because the smell of dead flesh was starting to surround the area. you’d been sent a heart in a box made out of someones skin and now you needed the teams help to find out who sent it before they came for you
you all sat in the briefing room as your dad walked back and fourth reading the letter you got over and over, “so this was in your locker?” Kate asked
“yep and the letter as attached to it”
“well i have some news, the little box is made out of Cynthia Brogans she was a teacher at y/n’s school and she was reported missing last night by her husband, the um heart is not human though i’m guessing maybe a deer but i’m still waiting on the official report” Penelope said rushing in drawing everyone’s attention 
“i knew ms Brogans she was a science teacher, i was never in her classes though”
“so what’s the link between you two or did the unsub just grab her out of convenience” JJ said looking around 
“well whatever this is we have the case right?” Derek said looking at Penelope 
“ugh, yeah i just got off the phone with local law enforcement they actually want us on the case” 
_______________
you currently sat in the police precinct whilst your dad talked to some of the officers about the case, he didn’t want to leave you alone and since you are the key to this case you were forced to stay with him and Kate whilst the rest of the team went to your school to interview the staff 
“how are you holding up?” you looked up to see agent Callahan looking at you concerned, she’d only recently joined the team but you liked her, she had a sweet motherly vibe to her 
“um, i’m okay i guess, can’t say the same for the poor woman who was killed because of me.”
“don’t do that to yourself, her death wasn’t your fault”
“sure feels like it” you said sniffling as she put her hand on your shoulder 
“you can’t ever blame yourself for what other people do, you’re a victim too”
“we think the unsub may be a teenager is there anyone in school who has expressed extreme interest in you recently?” your dad said joining you and Kate 
“uh, i guess there’s a few but none stick out, the box in my locker and the heart seems like his way of asking me out, i wouldn’t be surprised if i haven’t even spoken to this person” 
“i think she’s right, this unsub doesn’t know how to express himself in a normal way he’s most likely too shy to approach her”
“agents, a body’s been found close to the school” the lead detective said reaching your group 
“the teacher?” Kate asked 
“no, this ones male.” 
________________
when the team was giving the profile something clicked in your brain and you remembered a kid named Matt in your year that sounded a lot like who they were describing 
“dad, i think i know who it is” you said walking into the briefing room “there’s this guy i have a few classes with him but we never talk because he’s super creepy, oh and his name is Matt”
“did you get that Garcia” your dad asked 
“yes sir i did and i am currently searching for all the Matt’s in y/n’s year, i’ll hit you up when i find something” she said before hanging up 
“i’m so stupid, i should have figured this out before and maybe coach would still be alive, or if i just talked to him ms Brogans wouldn’t have been killed” you said sitting down at the table 
“kid, you can’t seriously be blaming yourself right now” Morgan said 
“what happened isn’t your fault y/n/n and chances are if you talked to him he would have hurt you” your dad said with hurt in his eyes and you smiled sadly at the two of them still feeling guilty 
_______________
“okay so our unsub is one Matthew Jacobs and grab your tissues because this is a sad one, when he was 8 years old his parents died like murder suicide style the dad killed the mom and then himself and poor Matt was locked in the house with their bodies for 3 days before a neighbour came around to check on them, he then moved in with his grandparents, granpa died when he was 13 and get this he was sent to the er for a broken arm but it was written off as a biking accident but i highly doubt it considering the granpa was a known drunk by the neighbourhood, he was then raised by his grandma until she died last week” 
“that must have been the stressor” JJ said 
“Garcia how did the grandfather die?” Moragn asked
“oh he drank himself to death, wife called it in but he died in the hospital the same night”
“send me an address Garcia” your dad said standing up
“already done sir” she said hanging up 
______________
“we have a full confession sweetie, don’t worry he is going away for a long time” Kate said sitting next to you 
“why did he kill those people?”
“in his mind they got in the way of your love” you looked at her confused 
“how?” 
“well they found images of you in his locker and threatened to call the police which he saw as a threat so he killed them”
“what kind of images?”
“pictures of you around school, but like i said he can’t get to you anymore” she offered you a war smile which you then returned 
_____________
“everyone head home it’s been a long day.” you heard your dad say and saw the relief wash over everyone’s faces when they realise they can have a relaxing evening tonight, on their way out they said bye to you and the girls hung back to make sure you were okay before you reassured them that you would be fine and that they should head home and get some rest.
“Jack is with Jess for the night” you turned to see your dad 
“cool, again i’m so sorry for today”
“when will you stop apologising for this, baby none of this was your fault” he said cupping your face “since Jack’s away do you want to eat out, we could get Chinese i know that’s your favourite” he said trying to cheer you up 
“yes please” you said hugging him, which he returned gently rubbing your arm 
it all seemed to end happily but you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt for those people that died because of you
______________________________________
send in requests please, especially hotch x daughter!reader because they’re a fun dynamic to write about 
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