Tumgik
#no beta we die like man
amive2567 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Grand Masterlist
Izuku Midoriya x Gn!Reader (if I missed to corect the femalecoded things, please yell at me)
Contains: death, violence, blood and gore, swearing, fighting scene, Izuku gets a bit agressive, implied cheating (no one is actually cheating), Type of order: small hot chocolate (Fluff), Coffee (Angst), Cupcakes (Oneshot),
Rated: 15+
Word count: 7.120
A/N: This took ages, but it's finally finished. I am really proud with this one. Please enjoy :)
Song: Underground by Cody Fry
Tag: @quietlegends
Tumblr media
“I am so sorry. I wish I had more time for us.” He lowered his head and observed his shoes. “You know what? I am going to take you out on a date this evening,” Izuku admitted. A smile spread across your face. It's been months since you've spent time together away from work. “Oh, I like that. Where are we going, mister dating pro?” you mussed with a sly smirk on your face. “Mhm, I thought about the little restaurant down the street.” Your eyes began to sparkle and your mouth began to build up saliva. Just the thought of the most amazing restaurant in the whole of Musutafu made you hungry. They serve the most delicious Gyoza and Curry Katsu in the whole world. “Yeah, that’s great. Even the thought of their delicious Gyoza makes my mouth water.” you gushed. Izuku chuckled. He loved your passion for this place and its food. But he had to agree, the Katsudon they are serving is better than his mother's, and that has to say something.  
To be honest, it was quite funny how you found the small cozy restaurant. It was pouring heavily, and you were both looking for a comfortable location to sit until the rain stopped. Your laugh still rang in his ears, as he thought back. You teased him because he felt cold. “That’s what you get for getting an undercut and cutting your fluffy hair.” you laughed, but you still handed him your scarf. "But now you could get a cold." He admitted worryingly. You waved it off and smiled at him. "I don't care, and besides, you could nurse me back to health. With love and kisses."
You finally found shelter under the awning of a bistro. The lights were off, and it seemed to be closed. "Oh, come on, why does it have to be closed?" You were drenched by now, and besides that, you would kill for a portion of Ramen now. The cold crept up your bones, and you both began to shiver. "Maybe we should call Todoroki, so he can pick us up?" Suggested Izuku, but you shook your head. "We forgot our phones, silly. Besides that, he and Sero are on their honeymoon. I don't think both of them are going to be happy when we call them and disturb their time." You reminded him. "Maybe we should just wait until it clears up," he suggested. "Yeah, that's an idea." And so you waited, enjoying the company of each other in silence. It was peaceful until the sound of the door opening disturbed it.
"Oh no, you can't stay here outside in the cold. Come in, sweethearts. I am going to make you my special Gyoza and a comforting portion of Ramen." An old lady stepped out of the restaurant. She had tied her gray hair in a bun, and a blue apron decorated her small body. You couldn't even complain as she shoved you into her cozy restaurant.
The loud ringing of the alarm system forced Midoriya to snap out of his memories. "To all heroes at the mighty tower, we need to stop a villain at Kiyashi Ward Shopping Mall. An a-level villain tries to attack the mall, but he's not alone. A lot of people are in danger, give it your best. Plus ultra." During the announcement, you and Izuku dressed in your hero costume and stormed to the mall. Izuku carried you piggyback style and jumped around the city with one for all. In a matter of a few minutes, you reached your destination. Screams greeted you, and the smell of blood and debris lay heavily in the air. "Time to kick some ass." You said and smiled at your husband. He agreed with a nod and you started searching for the villain. 
People were running around, and other heroes tried to bring them to safety. A lady was crying and searching for her son. "My son is missing, please. I need to find him." She pleads. "We will try to find him, but now you have to save yourself. We will do everything we can to save your son." You handed her over to another hero. "Deku, the villain, is near the Deku merchandise shop. Cloudwood and Sprinkle are trying to get a hold of him." Said Glade. His quirk was lightning, which could blind villains. Unfortunately, it was not a suitable quirk for solo fights. "Thanks, Glade." Shouted Izuku. 
The further you went into the mall, the fewer people were to be seen. Rubble lay across the hallway, and dust swirled in the afternoon sun. It was quiet, way too quiet. You wanted to say something, but Deku stopped you with a hand sign. He shook his head, and after a while, you got why he did so. An invisible woman appeared in front of you. "Aww, you are no fun. I wanted to kill you slowly and unnoticed, but I guess you wanted to be a party popper." She whined, but a grin appeared across her bloody face. "Now I have to fight you, agh, so exhausting." She shook her head and threw the first punch. You transformed your hand into a bunch of snakes. They hissed and let themselves loose to attack the villain. "Haha, your little snakes aren't going to harm me in any way." She laughed, but you knew that your snakes were more capable than being just snakes. You controlled them and let them grow. The villain flinched, but she didn't let it show that she was scared. She probably had Ophidiophobia, which was good. It would be easier when she feared them. Your snakes could feel her fear and grow even bigger. She flinched and went invisible, but you snakes sensed her movement. She is probably a new villain, an easy target. You let your snakes snap, and they could land a hit on the Geko lady by her leg. She started screaming, and you knew the poison of your snakes started paralyzing her. "Nice job, honey." Cheered Izuku. "It wasn't that hard. She's a newbie." You argued humbly. He chuckles while admiring your humble personality at the same time. You never thought you were better than everyone just because you slayed a goddamn cruel villain. Although you really should appreciate yourself more often, he thought. “ We should move on,” you announced and rushed to the source of destruction. 
Even though you were a hero for a long time, and you even defeated AFO, you weren’t ready for this fight. 
More corpses and debris came your way as you moved deeper inside the building. Police personnel, citizens, or even heroes, like Cloudwood and Sprinkle, stared at you with their dead eyes. You suppressed the feeling of crying and vomiting, the mission has to be successful. After that, you could hide inside your bed for days. Izuku must have had the same thought as you because he moved faster, away from these horrible sights. Walking without difficulties got harder as the debris began to stack. “We’re getting closer,” you whispered. The both of you carefully stepped onward. On a mountain of loose bricks, you came to a hold. 
A look down revealed the true horror of this mission. There's blood everywhere, bodies everywhere, and heroes battling for their lives. In the middle of this whole chaos stood Mimic. The source of all evil. You were searching for him all over Musutafu, but now you had the chance to fight him. He floated in the middle of the area, surrounded by a violet mist. Doubles emerged out of it and landed on the floor. “Shit more of these assholes.” yelled one of the supporting heroes. Without thinking both of you, run down the hill of debris. You summoned your snakes and sent them off to fight the first clone of Mimic, but you knew that wouldn't be so easy. Your first encounter left more scars than every villain ever did. He ran once All Might entered his vision, but after All Might perished, he reappeared from the ground.
The dust was swirling around and you needed to cover your eyes, to see properly. More clones emerged from Mimic and you began to lose Izuku in the dusty and crowded area. Even though everyone fought it was oddly quiet. The area was just too small for this amount of people. You found yourself stumbling across the maze of corpses, debris, and dust. A scream, so loud your bones shook, got your attention. Without thinking you sprinted to the source of it. The dusty air filled your lungs and you coughed, but you never thought about staying still. Your heart pounded and you heard the blood rushing in your ears, stumbling across the area until you reached the source of the scream. Izuku lay in a puddle of his blood, writhing in pain. Above him towered your snakes, their red eyes gleaming in the evening sun. “You are such a monster. I can’t believe I fell in love with someone so crucial,” he whispered. “No, that can't be,” you screamed and ran to him. Not even being scared of your own snakes. If Izuku were to die they could gladly kill you too. “Don’t die, not now. I can fix this.” you were crying by now. “I will fix this…Us…I will fix us.” you tried to tend his wounds but to no avail. More blood poured out of his abdomen. “No, no. This. no” Ugly sobs shook your body and you hugged him tied. “Get off of me, you traitor. How could you be a villain.” “Izu, honey what?” You were confused, but you paid no mind to it. Your snakes could be poisonous if you want them to be. “I won’t leave you.” “I would be happier dying alone than with you by my side.” More tears swelled in your eyes. “Don’t say something like this.” He shrugged and with a short labored breath his eyes went blank. “Izu, no no god please no. Don’t leave me here.” You couldn’t stop the tears. They clouded your view and you screamed. So painful you bet Mimic would be crying. 
Your crying came to hold as someone smacked you across the face. The dusty view disappeared and you were more irritated than before. The tears still ran down your cheeks. “H/N, it was only a vision. Deku is still alive. He is fighting with Infra on the other side. One of the Clones has a Quirk that can control your vision, makes you imagine things and stuff.” explained Iron to you. A kind and well-mannered hero. His quirk can kick ass. “We need to catch him.” you sniffed. “We can't, he is invisible, only to be seen in the poisonous cloud of another clone's quirk. They are all connected, we can only take down MImic if we destroy them,” explained Iron. You wiped away your tears. “Alright, do you know more?” you heaved, as you avoided a boulder, which flew at you. Iron constructs a wall to protect you from the boulder. “Shit they are already attacking,” he swore. “Iron, how do you know so much about this dude?” “As we fought him last time with people from my agency, they all died. I did research and I want him dead. I am the one who’s going to kill him.” You were too stunned to say something. “I know this must be hard for you, but killing him won’t be able to heal your deep wounds. Besides, that death would be too kind, he should rot in Tartarus. You can turn him in after we beat him up.” you tried to comfort him, even though you were terrible at it. “Yeah, you're right, thanks.” 
The both of you moved forward to search for the poison guy. “He must be around somewhere. Here is where I got that vision and then I ran off.” Iron nodded and looked around. “The poison is in the same violet as the cloud around Mimic. Maybe they’re connected. He probably hides somewhere in the smoke.” Explained Iron. “Then we need to get in there.” you proposed and made your way to the violet cloud. “Wait, it's highly poisonous, you can’t go in there.” He yelled after you as you were about to enter the thick smoke. “Not a problem. My quirk lets me be immune to poison,” you answered, over your shoulder, leaving Iron behind as you finally stepped into the smoke.
You could barely see in this thick and hot smoke. It was so muggy you could barely breathe. While summoning a snake you checked your vicinity, but nothing special was recognizable in your sight. In addition, it was eerily quiet and only a kind of wafting and muffled fighting noises could be heard. The adrenaline was rushing through your body. This feeling was new and uncanny, which disturbed you. “Get your shit together, Y/N” You shook your head to get a clear sight again. The scales of your hero costume got hotter with every second you spent searching for this stupid dream clone.   
A creepy laugh caught your attention. Even though you looked around, you couldn't see anyone. "Poor naive hero. You walked right into your misery." Mocked the voice. "Where are you, villain?" The voice seemed to come from everywhere. "If I tell you, it would be boring, wouldn't it." It laughed. "Fuck off, we will get Mimic to stop, even if we let you off the hook." "Did I mention that you are naive? Because, Jesus, you are so naive. Poor little hero." The voice still laughed. Cold and heartless. “Show yourself, you, coward.” You began to shout. “I am not a mean guy so I will. Wait and see what powers I can hold.” 
“Who is this guy, we haven’t dealt any damage yet,” shouted Denki. Sweat was running over their temples. Deku and his team were fighting for almost half an hour now and nothing major had happened. The werewolf in front of them had gleaming red eyes, salvia was running down his hairy chin and he attacked constantly. He has a ton of energy, although the heroes did not. They dodged the attacks of the wild animal and tried to fight back, but to no avail. “Wait guys.” shouted a voice from far away. Everyone turned around and spotted Iron. He waved with his arms, so he would get noticed. To be honest, he looked like a crazy human bird. “We can’t wait for him, we need to attack,” shouted Infra, who was occupied with watching out for more clones. “Yes, baby girl. I am on it.” flirted Denki. “Don’t call me that you incompetent twat. Get to work,” she argued with red tainted cheeks. 
“There is still no sight of a new clone,” informed Infra. “Well, that’s great because electrifying this werewolf is harder than you think it is.” While some of them tried to get the wolf unconscious, the others decided to join Iron on his way. “Iron, what are you doing here? We thought you were fighting at the other front,” asked Sparks, the starlight heroine. “They have been blinded by this dream clone. Y/N also got blinded…” He couldn't continue speaking because Deku cut him off. “What’s with her now? Is she alright?” “She is currently trying to fight the poison clone. Before fighting this dream guy,” explained Iron. With his statements, he just confused his fellow heroes even more. “What happened exactly? I don’t get it?” asked Sparks. Iron took a deep breath and tried to explain everything as short as possible.
“Alright, we need to help her. She can’t just fight these horrible guys alone.” Sparks got worried and she already wanted to step into the violet mist, but Deku grabbed her arm and stopped her. “The mist is poisonous, besides Y/n is very capable, they can get those guys. We need to clear the outside parts and save the last few civilians. We can’t risk ourselves when we know one of us is capable of stopping all this. Y/n is selfless, they could never forgive themself if something happened to one of us because of them.” Even though his words seemed to be selfish, his eyes were overflowing with worry and fear for his love. Sparks didn’t agree with his point of view, but she still obeyed his orders. He was the number one hero so he should know what he's talking about.
A horrible-looking creature stepped out of the mist into your field of view. His face was deformed, bloody horns were sticking out of his skull and his bones were sticking out of his body. His appearance was so disturbing you wanted to vomit. You swallowed your puke and tried to put on a poker face. This villain has to be captured or else your team, the civilians, and your husband will die. “Now that I showed myself we should end this quickly.” The clone spoke and his voice sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. It wasn’t deep and distorted like before. You summoned your snakes without saying anything. Meanwhile, poison summoned a fresh cloud of venom. This time it’s as green as your husband's hair. The color always calmed you down, but now you were a bit scared. Even though you can endure an immense amount of poison you don’t know how much concentration he put into it. With the help of the green cloud, you tried to attack him from the back. To your misfortune he was pretty agile, a perk of his frail-looking form, so he dodged your attack. “Don’t underestimate me, little piece of trash.” he laughed as he tried to shoot another ray of poison in your face. Even though you felt you could withstand his onslaught, you avoided it. 
After some minutes of fighting him, you noticed his weaknesses. While he is summoning a cloud of poison he is stunned. That’s a short gap to attack him with your full force. Once you can get him down it will be an easy game. You had to hide your victorious smile. While you were preparing your snakes and yourself to attack, you avoided all his forays. “What’s up with you, low life, can’t even shoot a big wide poison cloud. Weakling,” you shouted at his face. His deformed face formed an ambitious grin. What a dumb villain. He closed his eyes and cast the poison. With one fast step, you and your snakes attacked him. The sharp teeth of your snakes pierced his thighs, while you were trying to hit him unconsciously. With your right fist, you landed a hit on his nose and with your left, you hit him in his stomach. He was fighting to get you off but the surprise attack did its best and he couldn't get rid of you. “Well, who is now the little piece of trash now?” Were your last words before your opponent drifted into unconsciousness. 
You took a deep sigh of relief and let go of him. The violet mist vanished and finally, the whole disaster was revealed. Rubble, shattered glass, body parts, and bodies were strewn everywhere. It was a view you would like to forget, but now you have to focus on the mission. Finding the dream guy had to be easy now that the poison guy was gone. You let your snakes vanish to conserve your power, otherwise, you'd be as comatose as the person you just battled. 
“I wonder where Iron went?” you wondered out loud and went on searching for Dream. You tried not to slip and fall as you walked across rubble and shattered glass. Your body was exhausted but you still kept going, for the sake of the mission and people's lives. Save to win and win to save, or whatever Izuku mumbled when he was fighting a villain. Quiet laughter was detected by your ears. “Who is here?” you shouted into the silence. Of course, there was no answer. “Damn you. I am aware of your ability now, dream. Come out now.” “Or what? Are you going to kill me, little saint.” spat a sarcastic voice behind a pile of stones. There he was the villain you were searching for. An evil smile spread across your face. Now it’s time to shine. “Maybe, but you need to come out little pussy.” you shouted. “Well then prepare to die.” He jumped out of his hiding and threw a knife at you. Well, his quirk was not suited for combat and it showed in his abilities. 
“That’s all you got.” you teased him while summoning your snakes. “Oh just wait.” A wide horrifying grin spread across his dirty face. Grime and blood decorated his face and his long white hair. You walked closer to him and tried to attack him with one of your snakes. It wasn’t as easy as you thought, because he dodged. In the next second, he vanished. Surprised you locked around. 
“What?” you locked around, you were standing in the hallway of Izukus and your holiday home. A moan could be heard from upstairs. Your stomach turned as if you knew what was going on. “Izuku, are you there?” you shouted through your flat. The moaning stopped and the shuffling of people could be heard. You slowly walked towards the master bedroom. The fear inside of you was intensifying with each step. With a fast move you opened the door, and there he was, naked. The love of your life nacked with another woman in your bed. “How could you? I thought you loved me. Izuku Midoriya, how could you do this ?” With each word, your voice grew louder. He looked at you with a smug grin. “You deserved it. You were a useless girlfriend. Not even good at one thing, so shagging another lad was good. We are over.” He said almost sounding bored. Tears were streaming across your cheeks. “I hate you.” you whimpered and broke down. Until the world started spinning and you sank to the floor.
You opened your eyes again and noticed the rubble under your knees. In front of you laid the unconscious Dream. The tears on your cheeks still kept running. “Hey, Y/n. He is gone, everything is alright now.” said a voice you knew too well, but now it felt unreal. His voice was so reassuring and kind not like seconds before. It was only a vision caused by this villain. “How did you find me?” you whispered, still shaken up. So he wasn’t cheating on you, what a relief. You wanted to take a deep breath but you were still in shock. He wrapped his muscular arms around you. “You can breathe it’s over. After the big poison mist vanished Iron told me the direction and I came looking for you. This guy was just in my way.” He explained calmingly. “I didn’t cheat on you, my dear, I never would. It’s alright. How could I ever betray someone as loving as you?” His hands were running up and down on your back. “Are you alright?” “Now I am, thank you Izu.” You took a deep shaky breath and stood up. “Let's help the others,” you said and both of you started to find your team. 
Izuku started to carry you on his back. He activated OFA and sprinted toward the place he came from. Denkis Elektro rays could already be seen in the distance. He intensified the speed in his legs. “We should hope that they captured the werewolf already,” shouted Izuku over his shoulder. You nodded, but the answer couldn’t leave your mouth because you gritted your teeth. This was way too fast. It felt like you could vomit at any time. As you reached the point of your destination, your team was still fighting against this huge hairy monster. Izuku came to a halt and you jumped off his back. “Dream is unconscious, so it should be easy to finish this guy,” reported Izuku. “Sets gret. He He.” babbled Denki, who was nearly at his limit. The beast was still stunned by Denkis's force.
The werewolf was now a mere puppy. He just whined and tried to escape the electric force of his opponent. “Please, let me go.” His voice was a mere whisper. “Maybe it’s too much, we should help him.” You said worriedly as you were about to summon your snakes. “No, his electric has reached a limit of 2000 Volt, you would be toast if you tried to save the villain.” reminded you Infra. She watched Denkis doing with crossed arms and a worried frown. Wasn’t she the girl Denki took as his date to the hero gala last week? You asked yourself but shook your head. That’s something to ponder about later. It merely took another few minutes until Dennis took his Volt power to its maximum of 2500 Volt. Your thoughts stopped abruptly when a new villain tried to attack you from behind. 
“Delaware Smash,” shouted Izuku as he protected you. The huge boulders exploded into a million little pieces. Your heart raced inside your chest. “Thank you.” you stammered. Izuku turned around, concern lingered in his eyes. “Did a pebble hurt you? Are you shocked? Are you alright?” He started rambling as he took your chin in his rough hand. He observed your face and wiped the blood from a small wound on your cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to let the stone hurt you,” he mumbled. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault, the villain did it.” You comforted him by holding him. “We need to stop him.” The shock wore off and you were ready to fight. Izuku and you released your hug and started sprinting toward the source of the boulders. Iron and Nifty Angel followed you. 
“Who even is this ?” Angel asked and Iron grumbled. “She is called Micro. With the help of the werewolf’s pheromones, she can produce Microparticles that can be transformed into bigger objects. She is an agile opponent and can produce her weapons fast, so please be careful.” Iron produced a shield for Nifty and himself, while Deku protected you with Air Force. 
An ear-piercing laugh echoed through the stony field. “You believe you can avoid my quirk? As if.” She laughed and shot another wave of stones in your direction. A small rock flew past you and scratched you. Warm blood was now running down your dirty cheek. Your body was filled with adrenaline, so you didn’t even notice, but Izuku did.
His eyes were filled with worry as he saw the blood. “I’m fine,” you muttered. He walked on, still concerned. His energy radiated with anger as he attacked Micro again. Her radiant laugh vibrated through your whole body. “Such a lovely couple. I guess we should pull an end to this disgusting romance.” With a wicked smile, she collected a bunch of rocks and let them transform into a huge hammer. She swung it around like a madman and tried to squash you all to pulk. Her giggles were accompanied by your shouting. You rolled over your shoulder to avoid her onslaught. Izuku was furious by now, his eyes grew darker and he pulled for a counterattack. “Distract her,” he whispered to you, as he moved on to get closer to his enemy. 
Micro went on with her maniacal giggle and went on with controlling her stony hammer. She locked around the small area, suspicion built up in her stomach as she wasn’t able to see the green-haired pro hero. “Where is…” Her muttering was interrupted by an angry growl. “St. Louis smash.” With a swift kick, Izuku kicked her from her stone pile. Micro screamed with agony as she landed on the hard ground. The stones ripped her costume apart and blood pooled from her legs. The bone of her thigh saw the light of day. It was a disgusting scene, to be honest. A shiver went down your spine. “Never target my partner again.” Izuku hissed. “Well too late. She is already down. Such a pity.” breathed the villainess in front of him. With a scary impression the hero turned around, but you were safe and sound. As he wanted to turn around he got hit with a stone against his head. The world started spinning and black dots were shimmering before his inner eye. Blood was dripping down his scalp. A growl escaped his lips as the stone hit him in his stomach. He stumbled back and tried to clear his sight, even though he failed miserably.
At the same time tried Chargebolt to get the furry unconscious. It didn’t take long until the werewolf lost his ability to move and Chargeally short-circuited. The yellow lightning vanished as both of the fighters fell unconscious on the dusty ground. “Finally.” exhaled Sparks as she captured the villain with her lariat. “Sparks go and help the others. I will get Chargebolt to safety,” yelled Infra as she carried the blond hero on her back.
 
Sparks was now running to her four colleagues to help them out. The dirty air rushed into her lungs. She just hoped that her asthma wasn’t acting up now. She thought through the shortness of breath. She was aware that her asthma may affect her as she approached the field of calamity. With a fast handle, she got her asthma inhaler. She pressed the button and her lungs immediately felt free. “Such shitty timing,” she mumbled and asked Angel for a management report. 
As Izuku tried to fight back. The stones around Micro disheveled into little fragments and her eyes widened with fear, now she was unable to protect herself. Izuku got the quirk-repelling cuffs out of his pockets and captured her. She would be able to move anyways. “Got her,” he shouted over the quiet field. “Finally. I thought I was gonna be crushed by this huge hammer.” Iron let out a relieved breath. “Where is Y/N?” Deku asked immediately. “She is helping Angel with her laceration. No need to worry, loverboy.” Iron winked. Both of the heroes joined their teammates. “Well we should move on to Mimic and finally take him down.” you mused. “Where are Chargebolt and Infra?” Iron asked. “Chargebolt short-circuited and Infra is bringing him to safety.” “Ah, yes, seems plausible.”   
Your team started running towards Mimic, still on the alert for possible enemies. “We need to be careful, there could be other clones.” pondered Iron. “Your right, we need to be on guard.” you agreed. With that knowledge, you walked slower, always watching out for new enemies. The air was quiet with screams of injured civilians, no fighting sounds, and no quirk-caused noises. It sends shivers down your spine. What a creepy atmosphere. Your heart was pounding and no one dared to utter a word. The quiet was immediately disturbed by a piercing scream. Your scream. The abrupt penetration of a knife through your shoulder blade drove you to face first to the earth. “Find this asshole.” Deku and the others had divided up to look for the knife thrower. 
“It hurts.” you cried, as Izuku pulled out the knife. He pulled out a bandage and tended your wound. “Are you alright? Should I get you to the ambulance?” he rambled and you smiled a bit. “No, I can still fight. We should move on.” Izuku landed you a hand and you both stood up. “Thank you.” you pecked his cheek. “Now we should find the others.” You took his hand and moved on as if nothing happened. Even though your right arm hurt like hell. 
In the meantime Iron, Angel and Spark fought against this villain who was covered in knives. Angel was still on guard, she believed that somehow there could be another clone in reach. The other two had the upper hand on this knife guy. So she left to look out for other clones or civilians who needed help. To her luck, her gut feeling didn’t betray her. There stood this guy with a bow and arrow. He was distracted by his target and Angel took the change and aimed her sword at him and threw it like a spear at him The sharp blade drew through both of his arms and with a loud growl her target fell to the ground. “There, there. Shooting on already traumatized civilians. Such a pity you missed.” snared Angel as she put the quirk-reducing handcuffs around his hands. She pulled the sword out of the arms of the sniper. “Well, then have a nice stay, the police will escort you to your zero-star hotel.” With that, she turned around and left the poor villain alone. “Easy, pff.” 
When she came back, Iron and Sparks had already captured the knife guy. “Good job guys.” she honored them. “Where were you?” snapped Iron. “I captured another clone, I guess we got all of them down now.” Irons's angry expression vanished and he just nodded. “Well done,” Sparks said, virtually impressed. The three of them fell into awkward silence. Which shortly got interrupted by Deku and you. 
“Is everything alright?” you asked, trying to hide the fact that you just got impaled by a knife. “You shouldn't be fighting. Your shoulder got hurt pretty bad.” Sparks eyes observed your shoulder. “It will be fine,” you reassured her. “If you say so,” muttered Sparks. “Alright, we need to keep going, if we want to stop this monster till tomorrow.” Iron said as he walked toward the middle of the stone field. The crew followed him, mentally preparing for the last battle.
 
Shortly you've reached the middle of the mall. Now there was no violet smoke and no clones. It was your way to get to this villain. But before you could reach him, Izuku held you back. "Please be careful, dear. If your shoulder is still hurt, don't exaggerate yourself, and always stay with someone. We will win this and then we will go on a date." His eyes couldn't hide the worry that simmered in him. "I will be careful, Izu. You don't need to worry, I am still capable of fighting. We will end him." Your hand wandered to caress his cheek. He leaned shortly against your touch. Izuku took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. "It will be alright, you will see," you whisper. "I know. I am just…" he got interrupted by Iron. "Lovebirds, we don't have all day. Now get going." You chuckled lightly. "I love you, we will talk later." You ended your conversation and got going. "I love you too." He shouted after you, unsatisfied with the interruption. He took a deep breath and followed you into misery. 
Angel, Sparks, Iron, and also Infra started to fight against Mimic. He avoided their attacks swiftly and laughed about their failing attempts to kill him. "And you say you are heroes?" Without another thought, you summon a bunch of snakes to help your group. “You think silly snakes would keep me from erasing all of you? What a naive little girl you are.” snorted Mimic overbearing. You didn’t answer. Why should you? He isn't worth any of your words. You send your snakes in intense speed toward him to land the first attack and to gain the upper hand. The snakes attacked his leg, and with their sharp teeth, they bit into it. A painful scream escaped his lips as he kicked them away. “You stupid heroes. You really believe you are saving the world with your stupid work. You are ruining my plan of eternal world peace. Maybe if you’d all die it would be better for all of us. So now perish under my power.” He stretched his arms to the side and screamed like he had been summoned by a demon. “See and die. Heroes.” he laughed as a huge wave of clones entered your way. “Shit.” You gritted your teeth as one of them hit you right on the ground. This time they didn't use any of their quirks. Iron and sparks tried to fight against two of them, but with each second passing by it felt like your team was too weak. But you were a hero you couldn’t be weak. Your hands balled into a fist and landed in the faceless Clone's stomach. It stumbled backward and hissed. The gray clone locked you dead in the eyes and lunged forward to grab you now by your throat. Your feet were now above ground, and you struggled to get out of its grip. By now you could already see the black dots getting more and more. The world started to spin around you. “Yn, can you hear me? Honey?" Someone screamed and shook your body, but you couldn't respond, the world was still a blur. It took a while until you finally snapped out of it, the battlefield, the blood, and the heavy smell of sweat and debris lay in the air. Izukus' green eyes laid worryingly on you. “It's alright. I can fight again,” you reassured him. “Alright, be careful dear. I don't want you to be hurt.” he almost pleaded. “I won't. I promise. Now go and help the others.” A smile forms on your face as he vanishes through the thick dust cloud. 
You tried to get back on your feet and tried to move forward, but no one was near you, and neither did you hear any sound of fighting. “Oooohhh, darling, have you lost your friends ?” the raspy voice of Mimic snorted. “They don't need you, you are just another worthless hero. Another piece of shit. Do you really believe your greeny pansy really loves you? Maybe he just acts like it to be more liked by the society of your so-called fans, that only live in a world full of imagination.” A sigh escaped your mouth. “Maybe your right. Maybe this whole hero thing is just a lie I told myself to become famous. I never knew who I wanted to be, but now I see you standing there in this radiant light of the afternoon sun. I think I know now, it was always my destiny to be the one who kills the heroes, to clear the world of its filthiness of it. I want to work by your side.” You walked closer to him, now smiling like a mad person. Mimics' stoic expression changed to a kind of loving one, he spread out his arms as you walked closer to him. “Now child, I am glad you finally found what you've been searching for. Together, my dear, we can change the world.” He embraced you in a tight hug. “ Yes my lord. I will always be yours.” 
The world he created around you slowly vanished. You were now back on the field and a devilish smile spread across your face. “Ready to cure the world from its poison.” “Of course.” And with that said your snakes bit into the kneck of him. Blood splattered from it and he began to choke on his own blood. “You are the poison of this world, and I am going to erase you. You had no right to kill the innocent or the heroes. You're just an average psychopath. I hope you land in hell. And for the record Izuku is the most loving husband, he would never do something like that for fame.” His legs gave out and he landed on the dirty ground, surrounded by his own blood pool. 
You turned around but no one was there. The fighting noises haven't stopped. You killed him, so why were they still fighting? You ran across the field trying to find your teammates. “Where are you guys?” you screamed at the top of your lung, but nobody answered. The fighting sounds grew louder with each step you took, and now you were running. You saw Iron in the distance. “Guys I killed him.” You screamed happily, but that happiness immediately vanished as you saw the blood bath in front of you. Infra and Sparks lay right in front of you with emotionless eyes, both drenched in their own blood. “Well he isn't dead dumbass, now fight,” shouted Iron hastily. He shot another iron bar at the huge creature in front of him. “What in the actual fuck?” You whispered as you ran into the fight. You let your snakes appear and tried to help fight Mimic. “Why did you think he was dead?” asked Iron while he was producing more weapons for himself. “Well I kinda tricked him earlier and killed him, but I guess that was just a clone of himself. If I hadn't fallen for his trick maybe Infra and Sparks would still fight with us.” The realization hit you harder than you thought. “You can't change the past, what's important now is that you found us and fight with us at this moment. It's not your fault they died, even if you were here you couldn't have helped them. They were dead before Deku and I arrived.” The guilty feeling didn't vanish but you could put on a brave face. “Where is Deku?” “He is fighting him in the air we support him from the ground. Now give me one of your snakes and we will send MImic a message.” With that, he pulled out a metal spear and you put one of your snakes on it. “Now let the magic happen.” With a loud surring, the spear flew through the air. With a loud bang, it hit. And Mimic fell down on the ground. The cracking of his bones filled the now quiet air. You were surprised it was easier than you thought. “Did we do it?” You asked in disbelief. “Yes, we did it” cheered Iron and hugged you tightly.
Izuku landed now on the ground and you nearly tackled him over. “Slow down my dear.” he coughed. “We did it Izu. We did it!” You kissed him deeply not caring about the blood on his lips, coming from a scratch. “Now we need to clean up and then we can finally go home or somewhere else. I just want to forget this horrible day.” You sighed as tears of sadness and relief rolled down your cheeks. With his ripped gloves, Izuku caused your cheeks and got rid of your tears. “You didn't hurt yourself?” “No I am totally fine.” you smiled. 
And even though you lost your friend, colleagues, and a lot of citizens you were relieved that this maniac could finally be stopped and Musutafu could be a little bit safer.  
36 notes · View notes
Text
Ex-soldier!reader who nannies Ghosts kidd while he's away on missions. Who notice people who have never been on theirhis street before out and about. Who gets his kid out of the house just before it blows up. Who goes on the run with the kid while Ghosts enemies hunt them down. Who is injured and solely focused on keeping the kid alive. Who makes it to the safe house Ghost gave them "just in case". Who pistol-whips Soap when he shows up. Who almsot cries when the kid screams daddy as Ghost walks in behind Soap. Who resists the urge to run unto his arms just like his kid did. Who end up in them anyways when they collapse from exhaustion and stress.
Who finally gets a kiss when they wake up in the medbay.
651 notes · View notes
bullshxtvixen · 3 months
Text
Imagine saying to Zoro you aren’t scared of anything so he decides to put that to the test in the bedroom and pulls out Enma when he’s got you naked on his sheets.
He’ll gently drag the blade down your body, the sharp tip ghosting over your skin in a deadly caress.
Your stiff posture and hitched breaths when he runs the tip of the blade over your throat and down across your nipple make him think you’re ready to admit that maybe you are scared of something.
But you say nothing as you continue to lock eyes with him, almost daring him to do more.
“Tch, stubborn woman.”
Of course he’s also one of the most stubborn men you’ve ever met so he’s not just going to give in that easily.
Keeping his eyes on you, he oh so carefully runs blunt edge through your folds.
You should be terrified. You should be running for the hills, but when Zoro pulls the blade back and finds it dripping in your essence, you can’t keep the smirk off your face.
You do, however, nearly come on the spot when he brings the blade to his lips and licks it clean.
Tumblr media
397 notes · View notes
starker-raving-mads · 3 months
Text
For You: Part I
This is for @spiderlinging who decided this level of angst needed to exist.
Have thoughts on a follow up, unsure if I'll do it.
Edit: decided to make this multi-parted.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX
›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹
It had been a week since the last battle with Thanos. A week since the Blipped had returned everyone, a week since Peter awoke to Dr. Strange leading him through a portal straight into battle.
A week since Tony died.
It's all Peter can think about. The only thing he can think about. Not how traumatizing two battles back to back was, not the chaos and insanity of war, not even of how happy he should be that May and Ned and MJ are actually okay.
Instead, it's Tony, Tony, Tony. His thoughts had revolved around the older man for years now, so it wasn't new. But normally it was excitement, arousal, anticipation, joy. Now, though, it's hugging him as he felt like he was being ripped apart by the Blip. The joy of finding him and being dragged to him in a fierce hug, mid-battle, the billionaire's hands running through his hair. His voice, soft and full of this sort of grieving happiness.
"Peter," he'd said, "oh god, Peter."
And finally it was Mr. Stark's face as he sat dazed against a piece of wreckage amidst the chaos. How blank his eyes were, how little of the man was left, barely hanging on.
That face haunted his dreams, the emptiness filling up his nightmares.
And now here he was, at a lake house he could've never seen Tony living in, with people around him crying and mournful. Like they'd lost a friend when Peter felt like he'd lost a limb. Like his whole heart was being shoved out onto that lake with the last part of Tony Stark he'd ever get to see. Behind him, Happy was talking quietly to Morgan, Tony's kid - Peter's goddaughter, apparently.
He never knew you could make a dead person a godparent before, but there's a lot of things Peter never knew.
Like the thing is - Peter thought he knew grief, knew loss. His parents when he was a kid, Uncle Ben just after he'd gotten his powers. These were huge, space-taking people in his soul but losing Tony? Losing Tony was worse than anything he'd ever experienced before. He felt bad about it, sometimes. Because shouldn't his family have been the ones that meant the most, hurt the most? But then again, Tony had been everything. He'd always sort of thought he loved Tony in the way someone might love an idol, like his feelings were somehow offset by hero worship and being a teenager but it was so much more than that.
It might've started off that way, but after years of knowing him, being his friend through tough times and glad ones - it morphed along the way without him really noticing it. Got deeper, got more meaningful with every lab session and every time Tony said, "Just stay the night kid, you know where your room is. Aunt Hottie doesn't need to be woken up at 3AM with you coming home anyway."
The teen thought he'd cried every ounce of pain from him in the week since the battle, but as his eyes misted up again, he turned and headed around the back of the cabin. It was empty of people on this side and he slid down in the corner where the porch extruded out of the building. Hands covering his face, barely aware of the rotting, damp leaves under him. He just needed a minute to get it together. Just one minute and he'd -
A sound of footsteps approaching, light ones, made him stand back up again and wipe his face free of tears. He knew from experience that his eyes would be a horrible red against how pale his skin was, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Around the corner came Pepper in her funeral clothes, looking at him blankly. It was clear she'd been looking for him but he couldn't figure out why. They just stared at each other for a second, neither moving, and as the moments ticked on he got increasingly uncomfortable and awkward around this powerhouse of a woman he'd never really spent time with.
"Sorry, I just needed to step away for a - "
"He did it because of you, you know," she said, voice as neutral as her face. He blinked at her.
"I'm sorry, what - ?"
"He did it for you." And there was the anger. Her face transformed with it, skin flushing a red that clashed with her hair in a way that was still, somehow, beautiful. It was easy to see why Tony picked her out of everyone. Before he could say anything, she continued. "He told me," she said, tears clouding her voice, nose stuffing up with emotion, "that he'd figured it out. Figured out how to save everyone."
She laughed and it was the most hateful sound he'd ever heard. Shaking her head, smiling in a way that said 'fed up', she said, "But I knew. I knew he didn't do it to be the savior of humanity. His ego was always big, and he was always willing to sacrifice if he thought the price was worth it." She stopped again and stared at him, face contorting.
"He saved a lot of people," Peter agreed, spidey-sense screaming at him and he didn't know why. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he felt like he was being bombarded. It was nauseating.
"He didn't save people, Peter," she screeched, stomping toward him, hand fisted around a cloth handkerchief, finger pointing at his face. "Tony's ego was always enough to think he could save the world," she continued, voice as mad as a wolf's growl, "but he didn't do it for them. He did it for you." She hissed out, "He kept your picture in the kitchen and just stared at it - all the time! Stared at it like you were some missing part of him and if he just looked long enough you'd reappear." She laughed again, rolling her eyes.
Behind her, a crowd was appearing. Sam and Bucky first, eyes scoping out the situation like the heroes they were. Then Happy, peaking around. The other teenager - Harley, Peter remembered - was further back, near the trees, watching with a ducked face, riveted.
"Tony saved the universe," she agreed, voice even more watery. "But he didn't do it for them - he did it for you." She had moved forward enough now to jab her finger into his chest. "He could've killed everyone with his stupid time travel bullshit," she spat, jabbing harder. "He could've undone reality with it, he could've made it to where Morgan never existed." She sobbed and the anger started to drain from her, head bending. "But it didn't matter as long as he got you back." She sobbed again and as much as his heart was rending itself atom by atom by what she was saying, he couldn't fault her anger, her rage, her sadness.
He stepped forward and she dropped onto him, letting him hold her weight up as she continued to sob.
"He did it for you."
And Peter had never heard anything worse in his entire, fucked up existence.
How was he ever going to live with himself now, knowing this.
How?
98 notes · View notes
aurae-rori · 2 months
Text
CSM AVENTIO AU short snippet
"Doctor," Aventurine says, as they stand there on their apartment balcony together. "What is your opinions on humans?"
"Where is this coming from?" Ratio scoffs, leaning on the railings. His irises widen, almost like a cat's, adjusting to the dark. His horns peak slightly out of his hair. He yawns, and with the light that Aventurine's lighter casts on their balcony, he can catch the way Ratio's fangs glint.
"Curiosity," Aventurine replies, and pulls out his next cigarette, placing it in front of the awaiting flame. It comes to life immediately, and he inhales it, then exhales, watching the smoke from his cigarette fade away into the dying night's sky.
"If you wish to know what I have already stated multiple times," Ratio says, "I think most humans are mediocre. They do not think for themselves. Their critical thinking skills.. gone." He glances at Aventurine's cigarettes. "Stop smoking. It'll kill you, eventually."
"Ah-ah-ah," Aventurine laughs, tilting his head back when he does. He then takes another drag. "That's the point, Doc."
"You are destroying yourself," Ratio observes, his gaze analytical.
The devil hunter grins.
The fiend stares back.
"Of course I'm destroying myself," he says. "It's a key human trait."
"I take back my observation from earlier," Ratio says instead, perfectly impassive, and yet, Aventurine can see the way his teeth grind together in the dim lighting. "Most humans are mediocre, but you are a self-sacrificial idiot."
"You've got me all figured out, don't you?" Aventurine asks with a wide, wide smile. It feels fake. It's like molten plastic on his face.
"No," Ratio replies. "I will figure you out, though."
"Good luck, fiend." It feels like a challenge. This is Aventurine's bet. He is a man of good luck - his contract to the Devil of Fortune deems it so, after all. He's been doomed since he was born, a lucky, lucky child despite the fact that Misfortune was brought to everyone around him.
Ratio will be the next to fall.
He doesn't seem bothered, though.
He grins back, all sharp teeth and inhuman eyes.
"In the pursuit of knowledge," the fiend of knowledge says, "I thank you for your luck. I won't need it."
Aventurine had known that this fiend - the fiend of knoweldge, the representation of human's fear of knowledge - would be interesting. In the way that he seemed to 'propagate' his own fear by teaching others, from the way that he enjoyed giving his knowledge to others, studying things - he was much more different then what Aventurine had in mind when it had been announced that the fiend of knowledge wanted to work with Public Safety.
However, for some reason, he was also... the perfect embodiment of knowledge. He knew too much. Inspired fear with the way he stared at people.
But not Aventurine.
Aventurine was never afraid of knowledge.
It seems that Dr. Ratio isn't afraid of misfortune, either. Maybe he believes that his knowledge will allow him to navigate the situation.
However the dice rolls..
It will be interesting.
"Here's to our new partnership," the gambler says, instead, holding up another cigarette for the fiend.
Doctor Ratio rolls his eyes, and pushes Aventurine's cigarette back towards him. His hands are warm. Almost... human.
"Keep your cigarette, gambler," he says. "I'm not intent on destroying myself in my own pursuit for knowledge, or the future. I also won't bet everything when I'm trying to achieve my goals." And then, without another word, he leaves the balcony, door sliding shut behind him as he pads back into the apartment.
Aventurine stands out there, in the cold, smoke tumbling from his lit cigarette, and the unlit one still in his other hand.
This will be interesting.
78 notes · View notes
ihopeinevergetsoberr · 8 months
Text
do you fancy a quickie? word count: 2,5k cw: shameless smut, viktor is a tease (everybody act surprised), no use of y/n, reader is reffered to as spouse. what else? ah yes. semi-public sex.
Tumblr media
art cr: @arcanescribbles. saw her viktor in formal wear and instanly knew i had to write something mentioning it. *standard 'english is not my first language please don't be mean to me' bullshit*
It felt immaculate. The languid wince of bright eyes, the smirk you were wearing — chiselled just perfectly precisely for a moment like this, as if you were an inborn heartthrob rejecting unfortunate suitors left and right — a natural, if you will. 
“I appreciate the compliment,” you started from a far, making sure — patently by total accident — to casually snake a dextrous hand up your chest, resting it right above your cleavage — just where that fool’s eyes were devouring you. “But I am simply not interested. I’m married.”
You’re savoring the drop of his face when he notices the ring. You just wiped a grin off a man’s face with class — surely, that must’ve felt spectacular, and you rejoiced when he hummed — suddenly all clumsy and simply pitiful — and, with a rather impolite mumble of a sharp ‘excuse me’, walked away, leaving you all proud and unapproachable. Yeah, that’s right. Don’t ask me for a hand in a dance, gentlemen — because someone has already put a ring on it. 
You got back to chugging on your champagne, lips tightly closed around the rim of that ridiculously fancy glass, although it matched the ridiculously fancy gown you were impressing the so-called select society with tonight. And it actually worked (or so it seems),  since you managed to strike the fancy of the mentioned earlier tipsy sir, who were now pouting his lips like an offended child, turning his subtle drunkenness into a full-blown intoxication; squinting, and ranting, and swallowing yet another drink as he kept whining about your flawless rejection to a bunch of sympathetic peers. 
But you couldn’t care less — not when you were just minutes away from leaving this bougie ballroom behind, with all its curious glances and endless mingling; so many faces, when you only wanted to stare into the sharpness of one — with two moles piercing the pale canvas of skin and cheekbones hollow enough to stroke a soft finger over the lines of them, demanding a kiss. You sigh — almost dreamily in the way your head wearily leans its weight onto the back of your palm. So cliché, but who are they to blame you? Not when your husband is such a sight, and certainly not when your husband is such a sound — raspy, low, and, frankly – simply hot, and you giggle at the thought, sinking two front teeth into the pad of your thumb. 
You barely understand a word when Viktor tells the inquisitive Upsiders about the Hexclaw glove, yet still absorb each moment of his speech with tender thoroughness, because listening to him talk — about anything, really — is a privilege, one you cherished dearly and with genuine care. You were an admirer, watching him — all intelligent and so pensive, in that suit, with that raw passion in the depth of copper eyes, on that stage. And comprehension is not necessary — not when you see how talking about his inventions lights him up; so bright, that he could easily outshine the golden boy. In your loving eyes, at the very least. 
He notices when you join the round of enthusiastic applause, quietly thanking his audience for the attention — pensive and polite, so uniquely pretty in his demureness. It feels like showing him off, and that grin stretches even further across your face when he goes down the stage to walk up in your direction. 
You’re not subtle with that kiss. Pulling on his tie, shamelessly pushing your tongue into his mouth, knowing that they stare, and when Viktor — all wide-eyed and smitten — reciprocates, humming into the heat of your lips, you’re gone. He’s breathless when it’s over, arches a thick eyebrow in a curious manner, sinking your proud expression in. 
“What was that for?” he chuckles, feeling the damage done to his bottom lip with your teeth. 
“Can’t I kiss my husband simply because I felt like it?” you purr in response, greedily eyeing him. 
He laughs. You stroke a hand over the rise of his chest, and he clutches his cane — the pretty one for special occasions, with elegant carving and gilding. 
A thin arm wrapped around your waist coaxes you to jump off the stool, allowing him to steal an embrace. Can’t resist Viktor in a suit. In his other attire too, of course, but god does he look spectacular all dressed up. It’s almost like he was made for all the blazers, vests, and ironed shirts — an inborn gentleman, sickeningly handsome.  
His gaze travels down, to the oh so taunting cut of the silky dress: a peek of garter holding the elegant stocking, and you notice just how he relentlessly fails not to drool over you too shamelessly.
“How was my, er, speech?” he asks, practically forcing himself to rip those eyes off your hip. “I suppose it went rather well — very laconically, if I do say so myself. However, I’m afraid that Jayce is much more natural when it comes to keeping the audience entertained.”
“I was too busy listening to you to pay much attention to the golden boy,” you confess, straightening his vest for him — another excuse to touch him, but Viktor decides to touch you instead.
“That is rather disrespectful,” he scoffs, gently capturing your wrist into the warmth of his hand, and before you can react — presses a chaste kiss to the back of your palm. Damn him and his gentlemanly tricks. 
“Perhaps,” you shrug, giggling when his breath tickles your knuckles. “But you did amazing. Truly.”
“I am flattered,” he acknowledges, letting go of your wrist. His touch lingers there — warm and domestic, a wordless way of returning the courtesy. “I hope that my brief absence didn’t bore you too much?”
“Not in the slightest,” you assured him with a wry smile, and he met your words with another inquisitive hum. “Some very persistent gentleman kept trying to convince me that I need an interlocutor.”
“Is that so?” the inventor asked, evidently amused by your revelation. “And just how did that go for him, may I ask?”
“He was heartbroken to hear that I was married, you see,” you sigh, and your lips protrude into a pout — one of fake, rather comical sympathy.
“What a pity,” Viktor retorted, blessing your ears with that low, raspy laugh of his. “I hope the news didn’t crush him.” 
“Ah, don’t even bother. You hope they did.”
“What an accusation,” he exclaims, and your hands ache to strangle him with that pretty tie. “Though not an entirely unreasonable one, I must admit.”
“My point exactly,” you bite back, and your arms rush to be wrapped around the bastard's neck, chest pressed flush to his, heartbeats mingling into a mess of thuds. 
Sinewy fingers don’t hesitate to slip into the cut of your dress. They also don’t falter to cautiously crawl into the band of your stocking, almost forcing you to whimper his name into the crook of his neck — an indirect plea to proceed in private. 
“Such a mouthy thing,” Viktor whispers, and you’re done with him, almost ready to demand he bends you over in front of those very Topsiders. “Just what shall I do with you, hm?” 
He’s hard against your thigh, even a hint of friction has him jolting, hissing a quiet curse into your mouth when he occupies it with a kiss again — one too lewd to be appropriate for public eyes. 
“You should steal me away,” you suggest, staring into the madness of heavy eyes piercing yours. “For some fresh air, of course.”
“Fresh air?” he mocks, shaking his head in fake disapproval. “Is that the only reason? Not that I’m reluctant to be alone with you — quite the opposite, actually. I simply doubt that it’s the real, eh… purpose of the encounter you’re suggesting.”
Fuck’s sake. He’s utterly incorrigible. Thanks Janna you love this man. 
You sigh, struggling to suppress the urge to slap him. 
“Do you fancy a quickie?” you finally surrender, knowing damn well that to out-smartass Viktor is simply impossible. Besides — the way his lips stretch into a thin handsome line feels greater than any meaningless pleasure a well-aimed smart comment could ever bring.
It feels even better when his mouth hovers above your ear, purring out a sweet, “I most certainly do.”
***
You squeak when he presses you against the cool bathroom wall, and a cautious hand cradles the back of your head, preventing it from repeating the dreary fate of his cane, which had just hit the floor with a loud thud. You, on the other hand — no pun intended, of course — are not that careful with your limbs, fingers already tangled into his hair, messing up its unusually neat style. He’s kissing you with desperation: rush didn’t leave him any time for hesitation, but you’ll gladly take him like this — all frantic, cock an aching swell inside his finest dress pants. 
“Darling,” he keens, licking at the fresh proof of his lust after you, as if trying to soothe the pain from his teeth needling into the softness of your neck. 
“Yes?” you breathe out, thoughts a mush of smutty images, but the limited privacy of this bathroom is not enough for a full-course debauchery. They call it a quickie for a reason. 
His hand slips under your gown, shamelessly kneading the plumpness of ass, ready to free you of the lace underwear. 
“No,” you pull away, shaking your head with a sharp inhale. “We don’t have time for this.” Your outfit is too impractical to allow him the pleasure of undressing you even partially, even though you’d love to let him have his way with you.
“But, beloved, isn’t that what we’re here for?” he protests, but you shut him up with another kiss, and, while he suffocates against your mouth, smoothly turn him around, firmly capturing between the wall and your softly pushed between his legs knee.
“I had other plans,” you reply, kissing down his jugular — some brief foreplay before abruptly sinking down.
“Oh,” he lets out a shaky laugh, leaning that bright head against the wall, but his eyes never leave yours — they attentively follow your every motion, carnal need thickly seeping out of them. “You’ll get on your knees for me? In that dress? My, I might’ve done something good in my past life.” 
“Will you please shut up?” you snarl, fighting with the buttons of his pants, and he nods, figuratively zipping his mouth with one dextrous move of a hand, informing you that his lips are sealed. Viktor knows better than to talk back to a person who’s about to suck him off. Teeth are a rather dangerous weapon.
He tenses up when you tease the head of his cock — slightly swollen flesh a pretty shade of pink, so sensitive, that it twitches against the warmth of your fingers when you wrap them around the hilt.
He goes quiet, but not purely for the sake of not getting caught. He watches you in fascination: mouth forms a silent ‘ah’ the second you dip your tongue into the slit, and precum coats its tip, all sticky and bitterish. You both know he won’t last long — your next ministration proves it, relentlessly riding him of his wits. 
You kiss at his shaft with tenderness, to the point when it becomes barely palpable, so he squirms, demanding the resumption, and you can’t help but smile against the velvety skin of his tip. Pearly liquid clings to your bottom lip, forming a translucent trail — a mixture of him mingled with your saliva; just enough lubrication to slip lower, licking at the sensitive frenulum. Viktor lets out an illegible sound — you recognise a keen of your name in it, and it earns him one languid stroke — just the tiniest mercy. 
“Don’t you just love to torture me?” he sighs, looking down — all vulnerable and pretty, weak knees threatening to start trembling any second. 
“I’m only using your weapons against you,” a sweet reproach rolls of the very tongue you’re tormenting him with, and he swallows the most delicious whimper when you swirl it around the tip — once, twice, but thrice is what finally has him slapping a palm over his open mouth to muffle a dirty moan. 
He abstains from grabbing a handful of your hair, reluctant to ruin its whimsical style — because at least one of the spouses has to be an actually considerate lover. His long legs are struggling to keep in place, relentlessly spreading apart with each bob of your head — but he’s leaned against the wall securely enough not to fall. 
You swallow around him in a rather messy rhythm, but it still manages to reduce Viktor to a mush of babbles and incoherent praises. You have him by the balls — quite literally, because your free from squeezing his width hand is cruel enough to knead them, dragging more throaty sounds of pleasure out the thrusting into your mouth man. 
You’re fucking him with skill, painfully aware of just what goes through his head in this exact moment: that orgasm will be intense enough to hurt, making him wish you’d rather proceeded with those teasing licks and fleeting kisses. His hips jerk when you suppress the gag, taking him whole, not a single inch left without your thorough attention. Even the hand shoving those moans back into his lungs doesn’t stop him from letting out the most embarrassingly high-pitched keen — it breaks free when he coats your tongue in warm spurts of thick cum. You stick it out, allowing him a pornographic view of exactly what he’d just done to you, and he almost sobs, completely forgetting about his initial intentions of keeping quiet. 
“Gods a-above,” he stutters, suffocating like he’s the one whose mouth was just frantically fucked, wiping his release of your lips with his trembling thumb — a gesture of gratitude, tender in comparison to the curses he was panting just seconds ago. 
The air is thick with the smell of sex, raunchy enough for anyone who decides to walk into this bathroom to meticulously define what the two of you’d just committed in it. Even getting off your knees and tucking him back into his pants wouldn’t help your condition — the pure way Viktor looks at you right now makes it all appallingly obvious. One doesn’t need to become a witness of the intercourse itself to confidently state “They’ve just fucked, Your Honor.” It’s written on both of your faces, on the mess of his hair, and, of course — on the burning under the thin material of stockings redness of your knees. 
You accept his touch, swallowing the remnants of his climax still covering your tired tongue, and he sighs, engraving the sight into his mind — probably to get off to the thought of it someday. But you decide not to tease him about it. You’re not that evil after all. 
You’ve never stormed out of the bathroom so fast before, all trembling limbs and nasty giggles —  the afterglow of your shared secret, dirty enough to banish Viktor from the Academy. 
He’ll recall it later, most definitely the next Progress Day, when you’ll wrap those impatient arms around his neck, whispering the famous “Do you fancy a quickie?” into his ear again. 
Except for this time your outfit will be easily removable. 
285 notes · View notes
whisperinggbreeze · 5 months
Text
"Has anyone here heard of a god known as the Crown Prince of Xianle?"
Silence.
"Where did you hear that name?" A voice asked sharply. It belonged to General Xuan Zhen.
"I read it in a scroll, and I was curious why I'd never heard of such an interesting figure," Hua Cheng replied smoothly. "It seems like everyone is in the know except me."
General Xuan Zhen scoffed. "If by 'interesting figure,' you mean 'pain in the ass,' then sure. Be glad you've never heard of him. Don't mention him again."
110 notes · View notes
thebookbutterfly · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
🦋 Chocolate Chips — John Wick x Reader
Summary: Every year you and John celebrate Helen’s birthday. This year would have been her 40th, so you decide to do something special.
Tags: #so much domestic fluff, #a teensy bit of angst, #sometimes babygirl is a 50 year old hit man, #he may kill people for a living but he is SOFT and I will not be taking any arguments about this, #slightly self indulgent
Warnings: Gender Neutral, but reader is suggested to have long hair, no use of Y/N, mentions of death obviously, no beta and no ‘ragrets’
- — - • - — - • - — - • - — - • - — - • - — - • - — -
John’s occupation put a lot of things in life into perspective. Getting into silly fights was simply not worth it. Not when every time he walked out the door the stakes were so high. That’s not to say that you never had disagreements. Just that neither of you were willing to partake in petty lack of communication.
You had known about Helen from the very day you and John had begun dating. It was hard not to. The man loved her so much it was written on every piece of him. Strangely though you didn’t mind. How could you? When that wonderful woman had brought him through so much shit and out to the the other side. To you.
Simply to say that Helen was a part of what made the love of your life himself. And so you didn’t mind his love for her at all. Especially now that his love for you was written all over him too.
It was Helen’s birthday today. You saved the date and had been sneakily preparing everything for weeks now. It would have been her 40th birthday, so you wanted to make it extra special this year. John had been out on a contract all day yesterday and so you weren’t too worried about him waking up as you crept downstairs and into the kitchen.
You removed the cake you had baked from the fridge where you had hidden it and placed it on the counter. Chocolate caramel. Her favourite flavour. The big silver four and zero candles were perfect. Along side the cake you placed a large vase full of daisies. It was perfect. All that was left to do was breakfast.
You set to work, cutting up fruit and frying bacon and eggs. You knew John would be starving when he woke up, he always was after a hit. You supposed hunting someone down burned a serious amount of calories. Lastly, you set to work on the pancakes. You knew they were Johns favourite and you were more than happy to indulge him, especially today. He always asked for heaps of chocolate chips in his. You rolled your eyes affectionately at the thought. He was a chocolate fiend but when he stared at you with those big brown eyes. Ugh. Who were you to say no to such a gentle, beautiful man?
You were just plating up the last of the pancakes when you heard soft footsteps padding down the stairs, followed by the excited skitter of Boy as he raced his dad down to the kitchen. John was silent as death so you knew the fact that you could hear him approach was deliberate and more for you than anything else.
Boy entered the room a minute before John did; tail wagging like crazy. You laughed at his enthusiasm and leaned down to ruffle his ears affectionately. John’s sleepy form shuffled in just as Boy managed to land a lick to your cheek. He smiled at the sight of his little family. Boy: seemingly very proud of himself and you: wiping the drool off your face as you stood to greet him.
It was unfair, you thought, for the boogeyman to be someone as cute as him. John was wearing a soft long sleeve shirt and his favourite pair of flannel pyjama pants. As usual he had stolen one of your scrunchies to pull back his long hair— a green one with ducks on it, this time.
You had offered to buy him some of his own. Cool ones to fit his bad-boy assassin image; you had teased. But he had somewhat sheepishly declared that he liked yours better. You didn’t mind. After all you stole a fair share of his clothes too. So you had compromised and bought a few extra for yourself, that way he could be a thief and you wouldn’t run out.
Johns eyes drifted to the cake and the vase of flowers on the counter, and he froze. You watched as the memories hit him one after the other. Boy, sensing his dad’s distress, waddled over to his side and plopped himself down on John’s foot. The contact jolted him back to reality and he lifted his watery eyes to yours. “You did all this?” he finally choked out.
You stepped over boy and slipped your arms around his waist.
“It would be her 40th. I wanted to do something special for her this year,” you replied before a bit of hesitancy creeped into your voice. “Is it okay?”
John wrapped his arms around you, tugging you right against his chest. It took him a minute to reply and your heart thundered as you waited for him to say something. He buried his head into your neck and you cradled him there with the palm of your hand on his nape. Keeping him safe— holding him together as he answered with tears in his voice.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
You breathed a sigh of relief. Reaching with your unoccupied hand you began to trace constellations on his back. It was a habit you had gotten from him, actually, but it had stuck with you. He had spent years with nothing but violence for company, so you relished touching him gently.
Slowly, you pulled him to face you. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and swiped away his tears with your thumbs.
“I love you,” you said softly. You held him firmly willing him to really hear it.
“I love you too, so much.”
You stood there for a second, just holding his face in your hands. Enjoying the warmth of his skin. Boy sensed the shift in mood and slowly his tail began to thump against your legs.
“You had a long night last night,” you broke the silence. “Let’s get some food in you. Then after that we can light the candles and you can tell me about some of your favourite memories of Helen. Yeah?”
John nodded, straightening, but kept his grip on your waist as he surveyed all the food you had made.
“I’d love that. Do you mind if we have a look at the photos too?” He asked softly.
“I already put the photo albums out on the coffee table,” you replied with a cheeky grin.
His chest rumbled as he laughed, “Am I that predictable?”
You beamed at the sound, poking him in the ribs as he snuck Boy a piece of bacon. Big softie.
“I think I just happen to know you quite well. You’re much less mysterious than you think,” you teased him and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear.
“Alright, I’ll accept that,” he said with one last peck on your lips. “Now, let’s eat before this goes cold.”
103 notes · View notes
iguessigotta · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
y'all know the rules with BTD stuff: 18+ ONLY, no exceptions Strade x transmale reader (nothing specific tho) we getting self indulgent tonight gonna fuck the greasy man fuck yeah here we goooooo
first off this man is GROSS. NASTY. HORRIBLE.
don't expect him to smell nice you'll just be disappointed lmao
he drinks so much beer you're sure his mouth permanently tastes like the stuff
as horrified as you are by the idea, you think you might be becoming addicted to it
Strade is ROUGH in bed
i'm talking wrenching your arms backwards while his other hand presses into the back of your neck, leaning his weight onto you and forcing your face into the bed, leaving you to struggle for tiny breaths through one nostril
he will straight up fold your ass in half (you didn't even know your body could do that)
and one time he fucking threw you across the room-
no one can deny that Strade loves marking you up - just look at what he's done to Ren!
bruises, hickeys, perfect imprints of his teeth, scabbed over and sure to leave a scar
and the toys he brings into the bedroom?
ropes, handcuffs, gags, knives, lighters, duct tape and a plastic bag over your head, suffocating you and keeping you trapped on the verge of passing out as Strade ruts into you like a feral beast
the lewd groan he lets out when you clench around him nearly makes you cum right then and there
half the time Strade isn't fucking you, not really
he's simply using your body to get off. like some kind of living fucktoy
what's worse is he tends to fall asleep afterwards with alarming speed
sometimes right there on top of you, leaving you to rut desperately against him, crushed under his weight and still fully impaled on his slowly softening dick
sometimes you wake up to him fucking himself into you - seemingly still asleep himself
you're too delirious in your own half-asleep state to stop yourself from rolling your hips against his, whining softly when he presses himself in deeper. your eyes roll back as you spread your legs, allowing Strade's sleeping body to chase its own pleasure within yours. greedily you clench again, spurring his body to fuck a bit harder into you. you use his sleeping body just as he's used yours. and as you fall asleep, Strade's body still awkwardly moving against yours, seeking the friction you'd cruelly stopped giving him, you can't help the small smile that creeps its way onto your face
and this isn't even mentioning when Strade decides to include Ren, who's face makes a great seat
193 notes · View notes
leeeeeeef · 1 year
Text
still thinking about the similarities and differences between miles edgeworth and trucy wright's upbringings,,, like i get that its no big secret that miles and trucy both lost their biological fathers in the courtroom in incidents regarding forged evidence and wrongful convictions and that their adoptive guardians were somehow involved in gregory/zak's disappearance and that miles and trucy both may or may not have played some role in their disappearances as well (whether it's perceived or unintentional)
but also i think its kind of interesting how trucy didn't become a defense attorney like phoenix did, but rather stuck with being a magician like her bio parents and grandfather. and phoenix supports her in all of her endeavors!!! phoenix loves trucy regardless of her occupation, and it's such a stark contrast to how manfred completely shapes miles's career, personality, etc. miles ended up not following in gregory's footsteps, and it's completely different to how trucy was allowed and even encouraged to continue her family's business.
also i love how phoenix brings trucy and apollo closer together even before they find out that they're half-siblings. and even more, trucy and pearl are almost like sisters to each other (capcom please give us more trucy/pearl interactions pleaseplease please) and since phoenix was a friend of the fey clan long before he met trucy, there's no doubt he had a hand in their friendship. anyways what i'm trying to say is that phoenix puts effort into making sure his daughter has a vivid social life - an extensive support system that she can rely on.
on the other hand, miles and franziska's siblinghood is entirely different. as much as i love their dynamic, it's pretty clear to see that a big part of that dynamic is their rivalry. franziska doesn't want to fall behind miles; she becomes a prosecutor at around the same time that miles does, even if she's seven years younger than him; her entire motive is to beat phoenix in court as a way to surpass miles; and in aai1 fran and miles are competitive with each other (albeit in a sibling way but still). and i get that this is pretty much completely speculative but i cant help but think that maybe manfred had some hand in that?? perhaps pitting them against each other as a way to isolate miles from any sort of familial connection,, i like to think that fran and miles seeing each other as siblings shows how they free themselves of manfred's polarizing influence. 
and i haven't watched the anime but i heard that manfred makes miles study in europe for a while?? in a country where he can't understand anyone else (at least until he learns the language),,, and compared to trucy's upbringing, miles had been so isolated from everyone, from his sister, from his childhood friends, and that isolation was in no small part due to manfred's influence.
(another note: i feel like trucy's and miles's differing social skills show this disparity even more; miles is a lot more socially awkward and standoffish due to how isolated he is while trucy is very comfortable and friendly with others, possibly due to how trucy has had a lot more opportunities for socialization. i can see why someone might chalk it down to trucy working as an entertainer but miles's profession also requires a level of social adequacy in the form of persuasion, so it's probably more than just their jobs)
i think it ultimately comes down to how manfred and phoenix perceive miles and trucy. im pretty sure manfred says at one point (im too lazy to find the screenshot to cite it..) that his treatment of miles served as a sort of revenge against gregory, corrupting him from a young age to completely purge gregory's influence. he sees miles as a vessel of his hatred towards gregory, almost like an extension of gregory himself. meanwhile phoenix sees trucy as,, well... a person - his daughter, with all of the wants, personality traits, and idiosyncrasies that make her /her/. and even though zak has done so much to hurt phoenix, phoenix doesn't let that get in the way of his love for trucy. hell, it's even reflected through their surnames; miles keeps his father's first name, showing that manfred doesn't really see miles as an adoptive child, while trucy changes her last name, showing that she and phoenix truly are father and daughter.
also. like. im sorry for tying this back to wrightworth but it's kind of poetic that miles ends up holding phoenix in such high regard. it's as if phoenix represents a life that miles might have had a long time ago; a symbol of security and warmth and unconditional love that was robbed from him at such a young age. it's especially apparent since phoenix and miles are childhood friends, like phoenix is a literal remnant of miles's past.
but there's one monumental similarity between miles and trucy that i've neglected to mention, and it's how they both learn to use the influence of their predecessors for good. although manfred had made miles a prosecutor as a way to get back at gregory, it's clear that miles still holds the values and morals that gregory had instilled in him close to his heart. and with phoenix's help, miles eventually learns how he can help others as a prosecutor. miles remains a prosecutor, just like manfred, and even retains many of the same mannerisms and fashion choices. however, his motives and morals, as well as the impact that he leaves on others, are undoubtedly his own, with the compassion and conviction that he had held since he was a child.
and it's no secret that troupe gramarye has their own history of scandals. but the heartless, manipulative way that magnifi, zak, valant, and even mr. reus treat both members and outsiders of the troupe,, it's nothing like trucy's brand of magic. her magic is so much kinder (yes, even the knife dances and catching bullets between her teeth) and she has so much more respect for the other magicians she works with. even when she inherits the troupe, her shows are traced with cheerfulness and wonder. she performs magic simply to put smiles on faces, even after the death of (as far as she knows) her only remaining biological family, even after being held hostage, even after being accused of murdering someone she had so much respect for. and that's probably more than anyone else in the troupe has done.
168 notes · View notes
aangelichaos · 1 year
Text
Heating Pad
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: Joel helps you feel better while you're on your period
Rating: G
Word count: 0.6K
Warnings: Age gap (Reader is in her early 40s, Joel is in his early 50s), sorta hurt/comfort
A/N: I’m on my period rn and I’ve been ✨suffering✨ and it’s also my bday so I’m writing this little drabble because I deserve it. I just KNOW Joel knows how to deal with this stuff, given he was a single dad raising a girl and then basically became Ellie’s dad. Also I accidentally posted this on my alt initially so it's there too ig. Oops lol
Tumblr media
You can’t remember the last time you’ve been in so much pain.
Period cramps usually aren’t this bad for you. Obviously they still hurt, but it’s never anything that some medicine can’t fix. This, though? This is an entirely new level of pain. Nothing has been able to help so far- not painkillers, not your heating pad, not the tea Ellie so helpfully made for you. You groan, holding your waist and curling further into yourself, hoping that it will somehow ease the pain.
“…Sweetheart?”
You look up to see Joel standing in the doorway. You give him a weak, pained smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “Hey, Joel.”
He walks toward you, sitting on the edge of your bed and running his hand along your back. “That time of the month, huh?”
You nod. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about it.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, a wave of pain washes over you. You wince, sucking in a breath, and look up at Joel. He looks completely unconvinced, worry evident on his face. “Really, Joel. I’ll be fine. It’s just cramps.”
“Honey, I don’t care if it’s just cramps, I’m not leaving your side until you feel better, okay?” he says, laying down next to you. “Do you honestly think I’m just going to leave you here while you’re clearly in pain? Come on, you know better than that.” He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You laugh a bit at that, burying your head in his shoulder. “I know.. I just don’t want to make you worry when you don’t need to.”
He kisses your forehead. “I know, baby. But you gotta understand that I want to be there for you when you’re hurtin’. I just wanna help you feel better.” He brings your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to it. “How can I help?”
You sigh. “I don’t fucking know, Joel. I’ve tried everything I could think of, but they won’t go away.” You pull him closer, holding him against you in hopes that maybe his warmth will help with the pain.
“Oh, honey…” he whispers as he rubs your back soothingly. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” He pauses for a moment, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Has anything at least been able to help? Make the pain a bit more bearable?”
“The heating pad, I guess?” You shrug. “Didn’t do much, but it worked better than anything else I tried.” You grimace as pain overcomes you again.
“Well, where is it? Even if it doesn’t do much, you should at least have it with you.” You gesture vaguely to the floor, and he spots it next to the bed. “Here, doll.” He hands it to you. “Lay back, don’t curl up like that. I know you want to, but it won’t help.” He plugs in the heating pad. “Where’s it hurt, your waist?”
You nod. “Joel, you don’t gotta do all this.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Gotta take care of my favorite lady.” He puts his hand over the heating pad, adding slight pressure. “Oh, you poor thing, can’t imagine how much it hurts.” He leans in and kisses you softly. “Anything else I can do for you, angel?”
You shake your head. “You’ve done more than enough, sweetheart.” You cup his cheek with your hand. “You’re too good to me.”
He smiles, putting his hand over yours. “Just givin’ you what you deserve.”
You pull him towards you, hugging him tightly. “Thank you…”
He hugs you back, squeezing you against him. “No problem, hun.”
Even though cramps are still wracking your body, you’ve never felt so at peace as you lay wrapped in Joel’s arms.
116 notes · View notes
fishbrain-glubglub · 1 month
Text
She's Not Here
If anyone were to ask the BAU who the epitome of masculinity was, they would all immediately point towards their Unit Chief: SSA Aaron Hotchner.
The man effortlessly oozed masculinity. His solid 6’2” stature framed perfectly in his tailored suits made many mouths water at the sight, daydreaming about the body that lay in waiting underneath. Not a day went by where at least one person hadn't drooled over his stubble-peppered jawline, claiming it was sharp enough to effortlessly cut glass. His signature stoic aura only emphasized his classic alpha male status to any passersby familiar or not to the man. There was no doubt to anyone's mind that Aaron Hotchner was what every man dreamed to be.
But standing in only his boxer briefs in front of his bedroom mirror, all Aaron could see was everything he deemed wasn't manly. His hips were too wide despite being surrounded by well-toned muscle after decades of running and UnSub chasing. His jawline, while covered in stubble not yet shaven, wasn't as sharp as many of his admirers claimed it was. His shoulders, while looking wide and commanding in a sharp suit, felt narrow and small bared for his room to see. His chest bulged in all the wrong ways despite the faint twin scars bordering the bottom of each toned pectoral. Despite the decades of time Aaron had worked to achieve his current form, he could still see her poking through every insecurity he kept hidden, taunting him with the same dark chocolate eyes that sent even the most hardened UnSubs cowering.
A scowl glared back at him in the mirror as he crossed his arms defensively across his chest. The phantom ache of utter wrongness seeping from every inch of his skin began to rapidly bubble to the surface. No matter how hard he tried to quell her from resurfacing, she always managed to seep through the cracks, blasting a neon sign to reveal all of his obvious flaws to the world and to himself. He couldn't seem to shake the ghost of her presence no matter how hard he tried. It was days like this that he wondered why he even tried so hard to be himself, to be comfortable in his own skin.
A tiny flash of silver caught his eye in the mirror before two familiar lanky arms enveloped him from behind, pulling Aaron out from his mental spiral. A calming warmth spread against his backside before the caress of soft lips peppered his shoulders.
“Keep glaring at the mirror like that and it might just confess.”
A soft huff of laughter escaped from Aaron's lips as his gaze left his own and settled on bright amber hues eyeing him lovingly from behind. His arms never left their tight embrace over his chest, but his stance softened significantly. He let his shoulders sag and gently leaned back into the comforting embrace of his husband.
Spencer gave Aaron's torso a soft squeeze, beginning a gentle sway of their body's to a tune unheard by Aaron but calming nonetheless.
They stayed tangled in front of the mirror until Aaron's arm finally fell from their tense state across his chest, turning his back to the mirror and nuzzling his face into the crook of his partner's neck. His hands settled on Spencer's hips as Spencer snaked his hands up his husband's torso before settling around Aaron's neck. They continued to sway to an unknown tune in the comfort of their room hidden safely away from the rest of the world. Aaron was so lost in Spencer's embrace that he hadn't realized he had begun to tremble until he heard his husband begin to gently soothe him.
“Shh, sweetheart. It's okay. I'm right here.” Aaron felt one of Spencer's hands begin to caress the hairs on his neck, causing his already shaky resolve to fracture further. His arms tightened around his husband briefly, desperately trying to cling to any semblance of his hardened stoic mask as he could.
“Aaron.” Spencer's hand left his hair to cup his face, pulling Aaron from the safety of his partner's neck. He kept his gaze down and away from the growing concern in his husband's eyes and tried desperately to reign in his emotions.
Spencer was having none of it. “Aaron,” he repeated, rubbing gentle circles on his husband's trembling cheek. “Honey, please. Talk to me.”
Aaron instinctively shook his head, not wanting to voice his thoughts. If he said them out loud, it meant admitting they were true. He desperately clung to the silence, wanting to cling to his masculinity as long as he could.
Aaron felt his husband sigh. He closed his eyes, mentally preparing for the worst: Spencer telling him he couldn't be with someone so unmanly as Aaron. Spencer withdrawing and leaving him to deal with his internal turmoil on his own. Spencer telling him to suck it up and deal with it like a real man. 
Deep down, Aaron knew these scenarios would never happen. Spencer had seen Aaron at his lowest many times over, had known his deepest secret longer than the rest of the team - save for Rossi who had known since Aaron had originally joined the FBI. They wouldn't have gotten married if Spencer hadn't been confident in their commitment to each other for the rest of their lives.
That still didn't stop Aaron's mind from jumping to the worst at every moment it could.
A gentle hand under his chin snapped Aaron's gaze to his husband's, finding nothing but concern and worry in the comforting amber eyes. Spencer's frown pulled his brow down in a way Aaron wanted to kiss away, instantly hating himself for putting that look on his face.
“Why don't you finish getting ready, okay?” Spencer's hand returned to his cheek, rubbing soothing patterns against the peaking stubble. “I'll be right here when you're ready.”
With a small nod, they untangled themselves from each other before Aaron walked over to his dresser, ignoring the mirror as much as he could. It only took a moment for him to slip on the thin shirt before turning back to their bed.
Spencer had already settled on his side of the bed, watching his partner with caring eyes. Aaron crossed the room quickly, turning off his bedside lamp before slipping under the covers and settling against his husband, holding him as close as he could without suffocating the man.
Aaron was grateful for the few moments Spencer allowed them to stay tightly embraced. He knew he would have to talk about it soon, but for a moment, he could lose himself in the embrace of the man he trusted everything to. He siphoned as much love and comfort he could before Spencer shifted, squirming his way out of Aaron's close embrace and forced their eyes to meet.
No words were spoken at first. Spencer had resumed the comforting patterns on Aaron’s cheek, providing a grounding presence to his inner turmoil. After a few more silent moments, Aaron closed his eyes and braced himself.
“She won’t leave me alone.”
Arms immediately wrapped around his shoulders, pulling Aaron close to the warmth of his husband’s chest. Tears he wasn’t previously aware of began to stream down his face as he took in a ragged breath, all of his pent up emotions flooding to the surface. It was as if the dam holding back all of his frustration broke at the contact. Silent sobs wracked his body as he felt the soothing hum of Spencer’s voice against the man’s chest.
“Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Spencer resumed carding gentle fingers through Aaron’s short locks. “She’s not here anymore, remember? She hasn’t been here in a long time. All I see is my amazing, strong, handsome, sexy husband.” A weak wet laugh cut through the quiet sobs. “I’m serious!” Spencer added with a smile in his voice. “Do you know how many men and women I catch eyeing you at the office? Hell, the amount of times I’ve caught Morgan eyeing you out of jealousy in the past two weeks and three days alone should be enough proof. That’s not even mentioning how many whispered conversations I overhear in the bullpen from JJ and Emily on what you look like underneath your suit on a weekly basis. JJ, who is perfectly happy in her marriage to Will, and Emily, who hungrily stares at every woman in a short skirt who walks past her desk. Rossi might seem like a neutral party, but anyone can see the smirk he hides in his morning cup of coffee when you open the door for a poor intern as they practically trip over themselves to follow. Garcia doesn’t even need an explanation. And don’t even get me started on the amount of LEOs I’ve caught eyeing you in your vest. It should be downright sinful to look as rugged as you do with your sleeves rolled up, gun in hand, commanding the scene with only a glare.” Spencer chuckled softly, scratching Aaron’s scalp. “That’s not even touching the amount of glazed over faces I spot when you talk. I’m sure you could get almost an entire room of highly decorated officers to do whatever you wanted with a single command. Any deity knows I would comply to your sultry voice in an instant.”
Laughter had rapidly replaced the sobs shaking Aaron’s body. He hid himself against his husband’s chest, covering his blushing cheeks from Spencer’s generous observations. “Spence,” he whined.
“I swear, Aaron, it’s a good thing you're married. Otherwise, you’d have people throwing themselves left and right at you. You’re the perfect male specimen. Hell, even I’m jealous of you, and I’m the one that married you!”
Aaron couldn’t hold back the eyeroll as he peaked out from his hiding spot. He felt his face split into a wide grin before replaying Spencer’s words in his head, his smile faltering. He glanced away, muttering softly under his breath, feeling himself tense all over again.
“Hey, hey. Don’t do that.” Spencer cupped his face with one hand and forced their eyes to meet. “What’s wrong, love?”
A sigh escaped Aaron’s lips before he whispered, “I’m not the perfect male specimen.”
Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
Aaron let out a dejected huff. “I’m not the perfect male specimen,” he repeated a little louder. “I can’t even-” His voice cracked. “I don’t have… I couldn’t…” Tears blurred his vision. “Haley had to… Jack isn't even-”
“I’m going to stop you right there, Aaron.” Spencer propped himself up on one elbow, still cradling Aaron’s tear-stricken face with the other. “Whatever you’re thinking about stops right now. You, Aaron Thomas Hotchner-Reid, are that boy’s father. No amount of DNA tests or medical insemination procedures with sperm donors can tell you otherwise. You have raised Jack from the very beginning, and you have done it wonderfully. He is growing into such a bright and confident young man because you are showing him how. You are an amazing father, and I know for a fact that Jack wants to grow up to be just like you.”
Whatever argument Aaron had to counter died on his tongue as Spencer leaned down for a soft kiss. There was no heat or alternative motive behind the gesture. It stayed soft and gentle, soothing Aaron���s inner turmoil. Reaching up, he wrapped Spencer in his arms and pulled the man down to his chest, soaking in the love and care from the contact. They laid together, wrapped in each other’s arms and sharing gentle kisses until the last bit of tension left Aaron’s body. After one more press of their lips, Spencer scooted down his body, snuggling into his chest and resting his ear right over Aaron’s now calm heart.
“Now sleep,” Spencer muttered, already half asleep. “You need your energy to ward off all your admirers at the office and to take your husband on an extra long lunch break tomorrow.”
Aaron frowned. “What are we doing that requires a long lunch break?”
He felt Spencer’s sleepy mischievous smile against his chest “You’re going to prove to me just how manly you are.”
“Oh really?” Aaron couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “And how am I going to do that?”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with a few ideas.”
As Aaron kissed the top of his husband’s head and settled in for the night, he couldn’t help but think of all the ways he would prove Spencer right.
20 notes · View notes
golden-rats · 1 year
Text
Fall of a sinner
Tumblr media
Aaaaahh finally got around to finish this. I am not entirely satisfied but my brain can't sit on this any longer. So take what you get my heathens.
Secondo having a little degradation kink.
Pairing: Secondo x GN!Reader
Words: 2.7k
Rating: Mature, so MDNI
Tags: Praise and degradation, handjob, teasing
You can also read it on AO3 here
Secondo only trusted you with this secret. Never really saying it out loud.
But you know.
You know by the way he slithers into your room at the dead of night.
You know by the way his gaze gets sheepish if it lingers on you for too long.
How he lets you touch him, caress his cheeks while your mouth spills words that make his legs tremble.
His cheeks under the paint burning red from the heat rising from the pit of his stomach. He's an open book to you. Spreading his pages just like his legs.
You're the only person to know and it's clear he'd raise hell if that ever got out. The punishment you place on him would be a walk in the park to how he'd shred you and your life to pieces.
But that's the exciting part, no?
"...I was good today."
Looking up from the book you were reading before bed, you saw a tall, dark figure looming in the doorway. Closing the door quietly behind him. His pace fast, coming over with long steps.
"And who are you to decide that?" You didn't sound very impressed with his claim. Turning your page. It was all part of the game. Part of something dangerous.
"How can I convince you then, amore?"
With a sigh you closed your book. Crossing your legs as you eyed the moody scary Papa. He didn't look so scary anymore. Not with the way he stood there, weight shifting from one foot to the other. Embarrassment written on his face.
"You really need my help for everything? Asking instead of trying. And what happens when I tell you? Will you follow order, be a good boy with it and expect a reward?" You could hear his breath hitch. Before getting shallow. Stepping closer to the armchair you've been sitting in.
"Or will you use it to tease and make a scene as bratty bottom just to get a reaction? Proving all you are is a sub who needs some manners taught? Enjoying it. The attention. The thrill. Chasing these fun little meetings." Lifting one hand, you signaled Secondo to close the distance between you. Which he willingly did. He came to a halt right in front of you.
Grabbing the fabric of his robe. Getting your grasp on his collar as he bent down. Staring into his mismatched eyes, mercilessly.
"Mhm getting excited, are we? Bet your mind is running with all sorts of things I could ask of you to prove how good of a boy you are…" One thumb trailing over his lips, smearing the paint slightly. You leaned your head to the side, giving him some time and the opportunity to answer. He swallowed. Eyes closed. It still wasn't easy for him to let go like that.
"Do you get aroused? Nervous? I'd really like to know what it is you'd expect from me. And how willing you'd be to fulfill. With how much resistance. Debating which side of yourself you want to show now." Your tone got quiet, alluring. Placing your hand on his chest. That's when he looked back at you. Getting hungry.
"The brat that thinks they could really dom one day? For the right person? Be fully in charge and have someone on their knees obeying your every command? Hungry for attention, not necessarily affection. Just knowing you see them." And with those words you pushed him. He stumbled as you got up. Falling backwards, landing right at your feet.
You stepped over him. Feet placed left and right from his waist on the ground. Looking down on your Papa. In more than one way. His robe was thin, showing the outlines of a bulge beginning to form. Soon you'd have him right where you wanted.
"Or will you fall back into the you that thoroughly enjoys it all. Having the status as toy. Still earning respect and getting adored. Being so fun to play with. To care for." He tried to push himself up on his elbows and forearms. Getting a better look at you. Awaiting your next action. And it followed almost immediately.
With a swift kick you shoved his arm away, making him fall back once more. Sinking down you hovered over him. Crouching. Seeing his chest rise and fall rapidly, shallow. You licked your lips.
"Let me know how I can provide for your needs. I'll be good and gentle. Unless you want me not to, which will suit me much, much better…" Running both your hands over his body. Feeling the delicate embroidery on silk fabric. The combination of green and black always suited him. It was your favorite look on Secondo. Too bad part of it will be ruined shortly. Or so you hoped, if he really was that perfect boy.
He let out a shaking breath before talking. His voice low and raspy. "Use me."
Even if you wanted to, you just couldn't stop the grin on your lips beginning to spread. The air was filled with an electric energy. "Just how I like it. And it doesn't take much effort to play by the rules, right? You sometimes play smug and hard to get. Trying to be witty. But you're not as good at this game as you might think you are, Papa~"
You're chuckling as he bucks his hips. Brushing against your butt. He's getting impatient. And big. Growling under his breath. His eyes searching your face, gazing down your body.
"While it is true you're entertaining…" Your hands that wandered over his chest now came to a hold near his throat.
"You're also just giving me right what I want. In the end it all comes down to the same result. Whichever way you see it, pleasure is what awaits… You just earn it differently."
Bending down you pecked a kiss on his lips. Whispering against them.
"Sometimes I even see you as reward. What it does to my ego to know you sit there, staring at my lips and waiting to hear these words. To know you're waiting for me to give you more. To know I'm someone who can rile you up. This is my high I'm chasing right now."
Leaning in, hesitantly at first, your lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. The taste of whiskey still lingered on his lips. You felt his arms rising to wrap around your waist. Fingers trailing along your spine. Goosebumps rolling over your whole body.
Being so near, his scent fills your senses. The leather from his gloves, it got stronger the more he wandered up your back. He wore cologne. You were sure it was expensive and well picked out. He took his time so it would match his preferences. It was strong but not uncomfortable. It mixed well with the faint scent of incense his robe carried. Sandalwood. It was very pleasing.
Almost addicting. You came back from your thoughts and broke the kiss. Straightening your posture and now kneeling completely. Sitting on his lap. Which greeted you with a hard on.
"Mhm I see~ What more do you want? I want to hear it from you. Speak up. You know how to talk, right? What do you want me to do. Lay out your thoughts for me. Let me poison your mind."
All the while you were speaking, your hips started to circle. You knew exactly what you were doing. Feeling two strong hands on your hips. Gripping them. A low moan hanging in the air.
"Tell me how much you like the way I treat you. The things I make you do. Make you think about."
The silk rustled between your bodies. You felt his cock twitch beneath you.
"I want it. I want all of it. I love it. How you treat me, how you can make me obey so easily. Probably more than I should. I even like that you remind me of the shameful things I've done. How flustered I get."
Secondo tried to move his hips on his own, grinding against you. But a hand around his throat signaled him it was a bad idea. He didn't have the right to act upon his wishes. Not now.
"What do you feel shame for? It's not like your existence isn't already shameful enough. There's nothing I wouldn't expect of you. You're desperate. A whore. Doing anything for just some attention. You have no right to feel ashamed. You have nothing to be ashamed of because you are nothing. The things I make you do are for my pleasure."
"Tesoro…" The next thing he felt was the lack of air. You squeezed his neck just ever so slightly. Enough for him to notice. To whimper.
"You say it's shameful? You say I should feel shame for the things I enjoy? Watching you, hearing you talk about the filthy tasks you do. That's my pleasure. And nothing you should feel shame for!" Release. A gasp. His nails digging into your skin, through your clothes.
It was almost amusing how he searched for words. Trying to phrase them right. Was it to earn pleasure or punishment? You were never too sure regarding your Papa.
"Shame for being so desperate. I don’t even think in the moment. I just do whatever I do, without even looking further. Because you ask me to. It reminds me of how low I am. But I like the feeling. Am I even allowed to like it?"
He keeps crawling back to you. It's delightful. You saw him on his hands and knees. You saw him in a collar. You watched as he filled his own desires. Jerking off as you observed. Knowing how low he'd dive for you. No, not necessarily you. Just this… situation. Whatever it was that you had going on.
"I allow you to…" Sometimes it was hard to deny what you really saw in him. And how much you needed him as he needed you.
The kiss that followed next was passionate, almost feverish, as if you had been waiting for this moment for a long time. As you kissed, both hands moved in a slow dance, exploring each other's bodies and discovering new sensations. His moans and gasps filled the room, echoing off the walls.
He started grinding against you even more. You had to put a stop to this before it got out of hand, it wasn't time for his reward yet. And you couldn't let him have the upper hand.
"Now now, what's the rush? Calm down and tell me what you want… And be a little more quiet, someone might hear you~ We don't want that, right?"
His movements came instantly to a halt. Averting his gaze for just a few seconds. Mumbling as he tried to steady his voice. Sounding serious all of a sudden.
"You're the only one that gets to see this side of me. And you very well know that. I would never purposefully attract any attention from outsiders."
"The only one? Then I'll make sure it stays that way. That those wishes and wants that come straight out your whore mouth will be for me only. I want to drag you to lows and places you didn't dream of before. Make you explore and realize how rewarding a life on your knees will be. I'll kiss you with soft feathers while the impact of my whip like words is yet to come. You'll ask and beg, whether it be for more or to finally give you release. You're at my hands mercy. Choking out your desires. Utilizing them for your benefit... Or mine."
Your words were accompanied by hungry hands. Releasing his throat you wandered down. Over his chest. His broad build, not exactly muscular. Secondo had curves and something to dig your fingers into. You've seen his bare skin before. Decorated with fine dark hair, just like his arms. You could feel the tension beneath your touch. The movement between his legs.
"I'm yours to please, cuore mio. Make me forget who I am for just a while. I am no Papa under you. I am no more than a dog. That's how low I'd sink for you." The rasp in his voice increasingly turned you on. The needy undertone.
"Mhm I get the thrill my little fucktoy. Maybe you do need a collar. A nice and tight one. With some functions I could control. Wouldn't that be nice? I'd love to see you writhe and whimper being with your brothers, at a ceremony, with the ghouls. Feeling soft pricks of electricity or vibrations sinking into your skin. I'd have my name engraved on one side and dog on the other. Since you clearly don't even deserve a name."
You smiled, he didn't. His eyes widening. Curiosity, excitement sparking in them. The possibility of getting caught. Of someone to find out.
"You're going to ruin me. I curse at how much I enjoy that thought. You truly must have put a spell on me- A-Ahh.." Throwing back his head he couldn't stifle a moan as you shifted your weight and sat right on top of his boner. It must be leaking at this point.
"My spit on the ground has more worth than you'll ever get to experience, slut. You can be happy I agreed to this." Squeezing his tits you drew more lovely sounds from his lips.
Pathetic. The way he presented himself. Needy. Desperate. So out of character for the stoic old man. But then again, it was all a facade. Of course he needed to unwind in some way or another.
Secondo behaved, you had to give him credit for that. Adding more attention to his bottom half, rolling your hips.
"My my, you're so close already and I barely touched you. Did you try and get off by yourself earlier? Is that why you came to me?"
His lips parted but no words began to form. Applying pressure to his cock he moaned once more. Sharply inhaling.
"Touch yourself."
"What?"
Swatting his hands from your body you got up. Stepping over him and back to your chair. Sinking into it and staying silent for a few heartbeats.
"You started this alone so you will end this alone. Come on now, I want to see you pant and writhe under your own touch. Can you do that for me?"
All you got was a nod. Again he steadied himself, remaining on the floor, leaning on one arm while his other trailed to his hot core. The bulge was undeniable at this point. A small wet spot already formed.
"Leave your clothes on. I won't risk getting your disgusting cum over my floor. You will get nice and clean later."
The thought of him sneaking around the abbey in dirty underwear was rewarding.
Secondo stroked his dick, trying to somehow wrap his hand around, pumping it. His eyes drifting towards yours, holding the stare. Panting. And you? You did nothing but sit and watch. He wasn't worthy of your effort.
"Hah… You're so good to me.. Look at what you make nhhng me do.."
It didn't take long for him to fasten his pace. Getting erratic. Breath quickening together with his pulse.
"Can I-"
"Yes you can come. You asked so nicely~"
In a disappointingly short amount of time he finished. Sloppy last thrusts into his hand. Growling as he hunted for just a bit more friction. Your room filled with his cries, as if he had forgotten other people lived near.
His mismatched eyes fluttered close. Concentrating on catching his breath. To come down from his high. The ecstasy your meetings brought him. But no, you didn't give him the time he needed. He had to collect himself and get out.
"What a perfect little toy you are. You're so good for me. Look at you all spent and filthy."
Your Papa sat up properly. For the last time this night you walked back over to him. Patting his cheek and placing a kiss on his forehead. He deserved affection.
He was your good boy after all.
Huge thanks to @applesauceandpeanutbutter for giving me inspiration to start this 💚
132 notes · View notes
starker-raving-mads · 3 months
Text
For You: Part II
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX
›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹›‹
It had been two weeks since Tony Stark's disaster of a funeral.
Peter thought he'd gotten maybe 12 hours of sleep in that time, mind still haunted with the last images of Mr. Stark he'd ever have - but also now haunted with Ms. Potts's words.
He did it for you.
The rest of the sleep he'd gotten was mostly from passing out from sheer exhaustion. The city was in ruins and more than ever, Queens needed their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. It was humbling the first time a grandmother started sobbing after seeing him, clutching him to her chest. Kids of all ages came up to him in ferocious hugs and clinging to his arms and legs. Many of them had heard tell of Spider-Man but were too young to have known him, and many more had missed his suited face around the streets, protecting them and keeping peace.
Peter's heart ached knowing that they'd been without him for so long, and through something so awful. The Blip was an instant for him, done and undone with only the vaguest sense of time loss in between. But for them? Half a decade of time, gone, lost in the deep expanse of tragedy. The teenager could hardly begin to understand it.
When he'd told May - who wasn't Blipped, who'd lost him for five long and miserable years, who had gray hair at her roots and frown lines where the laugh lines had been - that he couldn't leave Queens, couldn't leave his people, even for something like college, she grabbed him fiercely around his shoulders and they both cried.
"You're so incredibly strong, baby," she whispered into his hair, voice husky from holding onto her tears. "I'm so fucking proud of you."
So yeah. Queens needed him.
But that wasn't what was on his mind, not now, not with 12 hours of sleep and too much coffee in his system and a overwhelming, polished stone building looming over him. He tapped his fingers restlessly against the worn thigh of his jeans. Taylor & Taylor, the sign said. Attorneys at Law.
He was here for Mr. Starks will reading. Apparently, per the couriered letter to his and May's apartment last week, he was part of the will and was required to be in attendance. Baffled, all he'd even remotely begun to believe Mr. Stark would leave him with was the Spider-Man suit, or maybe a patent for it, to keep his identity safe? He really wasn't sure.
The caffeine in his system was causing his anxiety to ratchet up as he entered the building, greeted the receptionist, and was ushered to a conference room with a long, shiny table. At the other end of the table sat Pepper and Peter flatlined his lips together and gave her a nod, ignoring her well-hidden wince.
She hadn't said anything to him after the barrage at the funeral, Happy having pulled her off of him and led her away, still sobbing. He imagined, for all that she was probably still mad at him, that someone as put together as Pepper Potts felt uneasy with her emotional break, understandable as it was.
He sat down in the furthest seat from her anyway.
2 silent, tense minutes later, Happy entered the room. He gave Peter a quiet clap on the shoulder before going to Pepper's end of the table and sat down next to her, holding a whispered conversation. He could've easily heard them but was trying to mentally tune them out for their own privacy. Not long after more people entered the room - Rhodey, Sam Wilson, Steve Rodgers, and Bucky Barnes all ushered in a line, looking like they'd come together.
It was an odd mix of people, Peter supposed, but then again Mr. Stark always valued the unseen in those he cared about. The hardest one to figure was probably Bucky, whom Tony had given Peter the breakdown on. The man had gone, in his words, feral after learning Bucky was the one to take out Howard and Maria Stark and Peter could hear the stale anger and sadness in those few moments Mr. Stark talked to him about it, explained why he'd come back from Germany beaten, how the rift in the Avengers came to be.
Looking across the table, though, Peter couldn't see the ruthless killer he'd once been. His metal arm had been removed, the shirt sleeve carefully tucked around his shoulder, and he was quiet and contemplative, glancing around the table much like Peter was. In fact, it was less glancing at the other occupants and much more at Peter himself.
Actually, most of the table had looked at Peter more than once and it took him a good, long moment to realize it was because they didn't know who the hell he was. Pepper and Happy were the only two not looking his way, still whispering quietly between themselves. It struck him that despite his mask having been torn away in battle, no one had seen him, no one here but Pepper and Happy knew he was Spider-Man.
No wonder they're staring at me, he thought. Why would a teenage boy be at Tony Stark's will reading -
What little blood his body could spare rushed to his cheeks and the back of his neck and he stared resolutely down at the table. Despite many, many fantasies, he and Mr. Stark didn't have that kind of relationship. But oh how Peter had wished they had - how his heart and soul belonged to Tony Stark even if it was never given in return.
His long unrequited yearnings were interrupted by the lawyers finally coming in. It was two of them and what looked to be a junior associate, hands loaded with files. "We apologize for the delay," the more sleek looking 50-something woman said. "We had been confirming the last of the details."
"It's all right," Pepper said, brusque and business-like despite the emotion the teen could read in every line of her face. "Let's get started."
The lawyers sat themselves at the long table, at the head near Peter and across from Pepper. "This is the final reading of the last Will and Testament of Anthony Edward Stark," the male lawyer said, reading from his portfolio. He glanced up. "Much of this actually comes in the form of videos that Mr. Stark created himself," he said, and Peter could tell he wasn't the only one who'd barely withheld a pained gasp. "We have some to read and at the end, we'll set the video to play and he asked that only those called for his Will be allowed to remain to view it."
That figured, Peter thought. If there were a handful of powerful people in this room, superheroes and not, it made sense Mr. Stark wanted everything as on the downlow as possible.
"Firstly, to Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes," he said as a junior associate quietly and quickly handed Rhodey a file folder. "He leaves all patents and holdings and architecture belonging to the tool 'War Machine' to you. Specifically with the addendum - try not to give this one away to the government, Platypus." The lawyer looked uncomfortable but Rhodey chuckled, smile full of love and pain both.
"Next, to Captain Sam Wilson," the junior slid a similar folder in front of Sam. "He leaves all patents and holdings and architecture belonging to the drone 'Redwing' to you." The man cleared his throat. "Per Mr. Stark's instructions - 5 years is a long time to fiddle with something without ever knowing if the owner is coming back. If what we're about to do works, enjoy the little sucker."
Sam's lip quiver slightly before he tightened his jaw, nodding once. Peter wasn't the only one seemingly effected by the genius's generosity, not by a long shot.
"To Captain Steve Rodgers, he leaves all intellectual property rights to the design of his vibranium shield." The lawyer cleared his throat. "And the entirety of his liquor collection. Per instructions, 'So you have something to test that alcohol tolerance with, boy scout." Steve let out a low chuckle, nodding in thanks to the associate who handed him his folder.
"Finally," the female lawyer said, standing up as her colleagues exited the room. "We have the rest of his Will on video. We have not, and will not view this video, but have specifics mentioned within documented. These are vague," she clarified when Pepper looked like she was about to ask, "and only enough to allow the contents within the video to be legally sanctified." She gestured to a remote at Pepper's end of the table. "Simply press play and the recording will begin."
The room was quiet for a moment after the last lawyer left and Pepper cleared her throat before gesturing to Happy to hit play. An instant later, on the large screen at the end of the room, Tony Stark appeared.
His face was lined with the extra years Peter didn't get to have with him, hair graying and so fucking handsome it hurt. The frown lines around his mouth were more distinct than ever and there was a sort of settled sadness to his eyes that Peter had never seen before. He didn't move with the restless fidgeting that Peter himself often exhibited, the sign of a mind that wouldn't cease moving. If the teen had to guess, it was because of too much having happened. He knew that after the Blip, Tony had spent months withering away on a space ship and then years secluding himself at the cabin where his funeral was held. He retreated into himself more and more, letting the rest of the world figure itself out without his interference. If the pain in his face was anything to go by, Peter understood and his heart broke for that version of Tony he'd never gotten to know.
"Testing, testing," the Tony on the screen joked, letting a put upon smirk flit across his face. "Just joking, we all know my technology wouldn't fail me like that." The wink was devastating to Peter's psychology and it was already clear that this whole video would be his downfall.
"But seriously," the older man continued, more collected now. "If you're seeing this video, we either failed and died trying or I died after having succeeded." He shrugged. "The chances of everyone coming out alive were," he wiggled one hand in a so-so fashion, "basically zero. At least if it's only me, then hopefully no one else got hurt." He winced. "Sorry, Pep, but if it's me or half the universe - I'm so sorry, honey," he was so sincere it hurt Peter's teeth. He could hear the hitch in Ms. Potts's breathing from here. "If it's me or half the universe, you know which one I'm gonna pick." He looked genuinely regretful, as if he didn't realize that he was worth more than just one man. As if he didn't realize he was the center of more than one person's whole world.
Much as Pepper might hate him, she and Peter had that much in common.
"Soo," Tony continued, dragging out the note. "Now is the time to give you guys my last Will I guess. Honeybear, Sam, and Capcicle, you should've all gotten your patents and whatnots," he gestured to nothing again. "The lawyers insisted on that bit. But the real important stuff is in this video, right now." He cleared his throat.
"First, Bucky," the super soldier's head snapped to attention, looking like he didn't know why he was being called on even though being in this room was enough to know something was coming his way, words or otherwise. "Man, I went ballistic on you when we first met," Tony frowned. "It took me a long time, and a smart guy to tell me that sometimes people aren't the culmination of their actions, especially when they weren't in control of themselves."
Those were the words Peter had said to Mr. Stark during one of their lab binges - but about Mr. Stark himself, when he was too in his head about his past as a weapon salesman. He nearly started crying thinking that the man had heard him so profoundly that he'd applied to knowledge to others. Fuck, this hurt.
"So," Tony cleared his throat. "You don't need my forgiveness because you did nothing wrong. But I'm giving it to you anyway because if you're anything like me - and I have a suspicion you might just be - then you need to hear it. I forgive you, Bucky. And, not only that - in case that wasn't enough," he said, voice taking on its cocky tone that, again, Peter could tell was put upon, "I have a secondary prize for you. I figure you probably don't like that arm the Russians gave you, so I made you a new one. Arc reactor powered, and it shouldn't be as painful. Plus, I integrated some of the nanites from my suit to help with the whole sensation thing. I, uh," he cleared his throat, ducking his head before looking back up. "I kind of just thought about what Dad would want for his oldest friends and figured I could at least do that, especially since you really have had just the most shit time the last 70 years. So. I hope you take it, and I hope it works, and just like live the rest of your life the way you want, okay?"
The gaze that Bucky had on the screen was like someone frozen, unable to express anything or feel anything. Like a statue too overwhelmed by movement to do anything but sit there. Next to him, Steve wrapped an arm around him, hand sliding up to grip the back of Bucky's neck. It seemed to wake the man up and he took a deep breath, nodding to whatever the super soldier had whispered into his ear.
"Next," Tony continued. "Happy. I'd make you chief security officer but we both know you'd pull your hair out." Both men chuckled. "Instead, I bequeath my classic car collection. You already have funds sitting in your bank account so don't worry about not being able to take care of them, buddy."
"Thanks, boss," Happy said and it was sweet and sorrowful.
"Pep," the genius took a second to smile sadly into the camera. "I'm so sorry, Pepper, that I couldn't give you what you deserved. But we all know that you are, and have always been, bigger and better than me." Silent tears gathered in the corners of the CEO's eyes and she dabbed at them, elegant and perfect and everything Peter knew he wasn't. "I leave you the lake house and that brownstone you love in Manhattan, all the money in the prenup account, and 20% of my shares at SI. You've always been an amazing CEO and mother, and I know you'll be even better without my shenanigans haunting you every waking moment."
At that, everyone at the table chuckled. Grief, dark humor, and Tony Stark went together like nothing else. Peter's mind, though, was turning over. Mr. Stark only left those things to Ms. Potts? Wouldn't it have made more sense to leave her for last and say 'everything else is yours, babe.'
"Finally," Tony sighed and it was the most straightforward he looked all video. "Pete." Peter's heart clenched and he felt more than saw everyone start eyeing him. He was too focused on the screen to look anywhere but Mr. Stark's face. "You put so much trust in me, kid, and I gotta say it wasn't warranted. I have fucked up almost every single part of my life and until Thanos, you were the only thing I never ruined." The teen swallowed past the lump in his throat, tears gathering in his own eyes and wanting to scream you didn't ruin anything. "If you're seeing this, then that foolhardy plan of mine worked. And you gotta know, kid," the sincerity in the older man's eyes was sharp with pain, now, instead of dull with grief. "You gotta know I did it for you." He cleared his throat. "You're the best of us, and I wasn't going to leave you behind."
The sounds of crying hit Peter's ears and he realized that both he and Ms. Potts were starting to cry in unison. Their pain so similar and shared but so very far apart.
"I couldn't leave things the way they were knowing you had been lost because of that big purple smurf," Tony continued. "The first year you were gone I don't think I left my lab more than 5 times," he laughed softly and it made Peter's heart clench. "I drank more than my liver could probably take, considering everything, and I tried, tried, tried to figure it out, Underoos, I really did. I'm sorry it took this long."
He took a deep breath and the inhabitants of the room did the same. Peter could feel their curious stares boring into his neck but his eyes didn't stray from the screen.
"You have to trust me once more okay, Pete?" Tony asked and Peter would give him anything. He nodded even though the man obviously couldn't see him. "Firstly, to everyone else." The everyone else in question sat straighter up in their chairs. "This," he gestured and somehow it lined up with Peter's chair, "is Peter Parker. To all of you but Happy, Pete was my intern at SI. Believe me when I say this kid has the brightest mind of his generation, but that's not the only reason he's here."
He took another breath. "See the thing is, Peter Parker also happens to be Spider-Man. Yes," he said, sensing that half the room was going to interrupt with questions despite him being a recording - he knew them well. "Yes, the same guy that fought with us in Germany. Yes the same one who's spent the last few years - pre-Blip - defending the streets of Queens."
Voice becoming more intimate, he continued, "Pete is the best of us. He's got your bravery, Rhodey, and he's got your need to stick up for what's right, Steve. The kid is pure good and too smart to not do anything with it. He's gonna be better than you or me combined."
Peter flushed. It wasn't that Mr. Stark hadn't said things in that vein to him before, but to other people? He wanted to protest so, so badly and the fact that he couldn't was strangling him alive.
"And he's gonna need your help. I did what I could, before everything, and I failed over and over again." His mouth was set into a thin line. "He needs people on his side, now more than ever, now after everything, and even more than you might think because," he took a deep breath, "I'm leaving him the company."
"What the fuck," Rhodey whispered.
"What the fuck!" Pepper screeched.
"What the fuck?" Peter gasped.
Their weird sort of chorus ended after that as the room went up in cacophony. On screen, Tony was quiet because yeah, he knew most of the people in that room well enough to know they needed a minute.
"He can't do that," Pepper kept saying as Happy tried to calm her down.
"Pepper," Tony started talking again and it shocked all of them enough to calm down and shut up. "I know you're mad and I know you think I can't but - you're amazing, okay? You are so fucking good at being CEO it's like you were born for it. But Stark Industries has always, and will always, need someone there to be the mad scientist. First it was dad, and then it was me, and now it's gonna be Pete - if he accepts." He sighed. "I had really hoped to last a few more years to get you prepped for his, kid," he shrugged, chagrined smile on his face again. "But death waits for no one, me especially." That sobered them all up.
"I really hope you take this, Petey," he continued, "but if you don't, I won't be disappointed. It's a lot, I know, and if you say no, then everything goes to Pepper and that's fine. But all the weapons I've made for the Avengers and co over the years, all the Iron Man designs, all the Spider-Man things - I'm sorry, but I'd have to trash it. Friday already has the program depending on your answer, but don't let that stop you. Even if you say no to this, you're still gonna be set for life, okay?" His voice, for the first time the entire video, took on a pleading tone. "Please, please don't do this just because I'm asking. Do it because it feels right for you and if it doesn't that's okay. I set aside money for you and May to live easy for the rest of your life if you need it, college, all of it. Just, please consider it."
As if Peter could do anything else. As if Peter would let the last of Tony die with this one request. Say yes and get everything, say no and Tony dies again.
"Pepper," Tony goes on. "If Peter does accept, then I need you there to support him. I know it's hard, and I know you're probably fucking furious at me," he smiled and for just a moment his eyes twinkled in the most devastating way. "But trust me this last time that this is what's best. You know I was never the business guy, not really. But you also know that I love this company and would never leave it to someone who wouldn't do it justice."
He shifted in his seat on screen. "And for Rhodey, Steve, Bucky, and Sam - the kid's gonna need you guys to help him out with the superhero gig. I wasn't really the best with, you know, ground level stuff and that happens to be his specialty. Get him what he needs, help him where you can, and just be there for him, okay?"
"We will, Tones," Rhodey agreed, swearing on their behalf.
For his part, Peter was overwhelmed. It didn't matter what everyone else was saying right now. He heard it, but it was cotton in his brain, the lightning fast jump of thought to realization to devastation of this whole hour more than he could keep up with.
"And with that," Tony sighed. "I'm sorry, but I've got to hopefully go save the world. Or end it," he shrugged, chuckling, "who knows."
The video cut out and the screen turned off. Silence reigned until -
"You cannot take it," hissed Pepper.
"Pep - " Happy started.
"No!" Pepper yelled, standing and slamming her hands onto the table loud enough to make Peter's sensitive hearing ring. "He already took Tony he's not taking my company!"
"My company," Peter said, quietly, resolutely.
Her bright red hair whipped as she faced him, glaring. "No."
"I'm really sorry, Ms. Potts," he said quietly, firmly. "But Mr. Stark was right. Stark Industries needs someone to lead the innovation side and I'm not saying I'm the best - "
"You aren't," she hissed. Across the table from Peter, Rhodey frowned at her.
" - but I'm the one Mr. Stark chose," the teen finished. He stood, facing her, and it felt weirdly powerful to be the only other person standing in this room of powerful people, facing off against Pepper Potts against something that was by all rights his.
What the fuck was his life.
"It's not the first time Tony's thought with his dick before his brain," she spat, "but for fucks sake to give the leading shares of SI to a fucking teenage twink."
"Pepper that's enough," Rhodey said. Beside her, Happy was trying to get her to calm down, one hand reaching up to her shoulder. She shrugged it off, shaking her head.
"You can hate me all you want," Peter said, shrugging. "But Mr. Stark spent the last 20 years trying to fix the world in the best way he knew how and if a bunch of board members who are too greedy to care about that get a hold of his patents or turn the tide against the CEO and spin SI back to the weapons manufacturers that you used to be," he shook his head. "There is no greater way to disrespect Mr. Stark's legacy than that and I'm not gonna let it happen."
"You think you know about how business works," she laughed cruelly. "You think you know Tony - well you don't, Peter. No matter how many promises he made you or how much he lied to everyone else, Tony Stark was always one thing at his core: selfish."
Peter's face crumpled in perplexed sadness. "You can be as mad at me as you want, ma'am," he said, shaking his head. "But I know you don't believe that."
"I didn't," she said, voice quiet but still full of venom. "I haven't for 20 years. But him killing himself to bring you back to life, only to give the leading shares and intellectual rights to you after the fact?" She rolled her eyes. "God, you must have been some fuck."
"Virginia," Happy hissed, standing up next to her finally.
Her eyes darted over to him, then to the rest of the faces staring at her from around the table, like she'd forgotten they were there. Her face blanched slightly but her expression didn't change. She glared at him, gathering her things, and walked toward the door.
As she left, she shouted over her shoulder, "You'll be hearing from my lawyer."
67 notes · View notes
cowboyskeletons · 6 months
Text
and sparrow's son loves the world so much and loves everyone around him and how can sparrow tell him that the world is cruel? how can he tell him that love will be punished and that cruelty is the only way to survive? normal's love scares him, he loves his son so much but that love scares him. he would do and has done anything for his son but he knows that it has led to his own ruin. and he loves his son but too much love has only ever harmed him and maybe he can take a model from his own dad and multitask.
maybe he can love his son but he hates him too, hates that normal can love and hates that normal can be loved and hates that normal can be so oblivious to the cruelty around him in a way that he himself lost when the world ended. he wants his son to have everything but loathes that fact that normal'll never try. that he just accepts life as it is. the way his dad did, when sparrow saluted henry and went along with the world's end and turned a blind eye to his wife's infidelity.
he sees himself in normal, maybe. maybe he hates that. because he lost himself, that day he lost his father's care and his mother's respect, and he can't bear to see himself lost again. normal needs to be cruel because otherwise he will be crushed and sparrow can't do that again. can't let himself be crushed again.
25 notes · View notes
ihopeinevergetsoberr · 7 months
Note
Congrats on 100 followers!!!! and since ur taking requests to celebrate, maybe something with a sub!viktor x afab!reader? u usually write him more dom coded so i'd love to see your take on that!!
bless you for requesting this. i had the nicest little writing session working on it. i should write more sub!viktor for sure. cw: viktor is finally getting punished for being a fucking tease. unbeliavable. word count: 600~
He sharply exhales into the curve of your neck, eyes two sad watercolor spots devouring you from under their half-lidded cover. The angle is rather inconvenient for one small pleasure you still didn’t rid him of — for the past few days Viktor has been surviving purely on staring, and by now he’d become absolutely miserable — you turned the man into a shamefully perverted suitor, stealing glances at your cleavage whenever it appeared in his visual field. He’s rarely that touchy at work — which means that a once-sweet gentleman is now at the peak of his desperation; arms wrapped around your waist, lips a warm tender pout against your shoulder, kisses hot enough to be palpable through the fabric of your blouse. Has you gasping, hands gripping the edge of his desk for support. 
“Are you feeling merciful today, by any chance?” he quietly inquires into your ear, eager to deliver a sloppy stroke on that one spot with his nimble tongue. Poor thing hasn’t been taken care of in days — cock a painful swell in his unbearably tight pants. He tries not to act too invasive, but it presses into your hip nonetheless — heavy, hot, and asking for your touch.
“That depends,” you huff out a laugh, effortlessly escaping the cage of his embrace. He swallows a groan of frustration, fingers squeeze the cane so hard he might as well just bend its sturdy handle. 
“Why must you persecute me with those vague answers?” he sighs, bright head pleadingly tilted to the side. It’s a refreshing turnover — once a tease and a smartmouth now pitifully obedient. Oh just what a few cruel sexless days do to charming brats. 
“Plainly because you haven’t earned a clear one yet,” you’re all but laughing into his face, but he doesn’t protest your mockery — oh the things he’d sacrifice to sprawl you out on his desk, tongue an agile little swirl inside your cunt — use me, fuck me, let me please you. But he prefers to address this in his own way. 
He responds by setting his cane aside, limping leg a trembling unstable thing without its support. You arch a confused eyebrow, but he doesn’t let you stay puzzled for much longer, blessing you with a pleasure of watching him sink down to his knees — a little clumsy and rather uncoordinated, yet still beautiful, and you gawk at the devotion of copper eyes looking into yours with promising yielding. 
“Viktor, what are you doing?” you hiss, evidently worried about the not exactly private setting of his workshop. But it doesn’t bother him in the slightest — the possibility of getting caught with his face buried under your skirt is certainly not something he’s fearful of. Cold hand directs the back of your palm closer to his lips, and he lingers there — mouth hovered about your knuckles before a kiss.
“I’ve grown so desperate for you,” he whispers — oh the mouthy bastard — and a chaste peck caresses your hand, forcing your breath to hitch. 
“I understand, but-“
“I’m begging you to reconsider the punishment,” he utters, meaning every word — and you’d gladly ride his face until he’s a breathless mess for the pure way he’s staring up, seeking your pity. “The lines I’d cross for your touch — if only you would have me. Please.”
He doesn’t dare to snake his other hand up your legs — he’s waiting for permission, and it might just be the death of you — your sweet, sweet man, who is definitely going to deservedly cum tonight. 
But that's your entertainment for later. 
Your fingers caress the line of his chin, and he leans into your little clemency with a thankful whimper. 
“And you promise not to get us caught?”
“Consider this whim fulfilled. As well as whatever other whims you might have in store for me.” 
111 notes · View notes