#nor will it be enough to make them fall in love with life
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🤍🌷 @stevesbipanic and @the-winged-doe asked to see ugly unpolished unrefined words, soo—
cw & tags: past major character death, grief, attempted time-travel fix-it(s), eddie&robin besties || potential wip
Eddie takes a long drag of his cigarette, the biting hot smoke hitting the back of his throat and clawing its way into his lungs, going as deep as he allows and leaving a permanent mark that brings neither relief nor calmness tonight. His fingers shake where they’re pressed to his lips, but the rest of him is unmoving where he sits on the front porch of their new trailer.
It’s quiet out here. It’s always quiet in Hawkins these days, the city a fucking ghosttown.
And he knows it’s not because of the one they lost. He knows it’s not because of him. But still the emptiness is stark and the silence oppressivem more so than it ever has been.
Everyone still looks for him, months later. Dustin still begins to speak, cutting himself off mid-sentence, and Robin still stands with enough space to either side, like she expects him to just show up and invade her space like the home he made for himself in there.
And somewhere among all that is Eddie. With his very own history. Or, non-history, as it turns out. But history and non-history leave wounds alike, and the memories feel just as real. A small mercy, at the end of the day, for them to feel real when they’re all he has left anymore.
He takes another drag, not quite exhaling before he obliterates the cigarette and fishes for a new one before the butt even hits the ground.
Fumbling with the lighter in his pocket, he only gets as far as placing the butt between his lips before a hand snakes into his field of vision to snag it from his mouth.
“Hey,” he complains halfheartedly but makes no attempt at getting it back, watching instead as Robin comes up to sit beside him, grimacing at the stink of tobacco that must be heavy around him.
“You’re disgusting,” she says with no real heat behind her words.
Eddie shrugs, because yeah, sure. He’s been called worse things. Robin’s called him worse things. This is her being nice. Her complaininig about his incessant smoking is nothing new. What is new is what she does next, placing the cigarette between her own lips and reaching for the light he’s been holding in a loose grip since she arrived.
She starts coughing immediately, pulling a face at the disgusting feeling of smoke in her lungs and tobacco on her tongue. But she keeps going. Eddie can only watch in surprise and mild horror.
“These things’ll kill you,” he says then in an echo of her usual sentiment, aware that he sounds as bewildered as he feels.
“Well,” Robin says, aiming for casual, but quickly interrupted by a wheeze and a cough that’s almost adorable. “Let them try.”
Eddie huffs, a pale little smile lingering on his lips as he leans back against the stairs behind him, resting his weight on his forearm to watch her. There is something captivating about her. Eddie always wonders what it is, wants to study her forever.
Maybe it’s only the lingering traces of Everything Steve Harrington that clings to her every breath, her every move, her every fucking cell, with how much he was a part of her and she of him. Maybe it’s their shared grief that has made Eddie fall a bit in love with her and with the way the moonlight catches in her hair and in the smoke wafting from her cigarette.
But somehow he refuses to believe that all he loves about her is merely the memory of Steve.
Robin, in turn, is kind enough to let him stare. Kind enough to let him find out what it is between them. If this friendship is more than a misguided projection of grief and mourning and trauma; more than co-dependence and the obsessive will to keep this one person in your life. This one person who understands.
After a while of Robin just holding the cigarette between her fingers, becuase no matter how strong her will to self destruct, she never quite got it right with the smoking, Eddie snatches it back before it goes to waste completely. As if pulled in by a string attached to his hollowed out chest, Robin leans back and into him in one smooth motion. It’s too calculated, though, and Eddie can feel how much she sags once she doesn’t have to hold herself up anymore.
He’ll hold her. It’s fine. She gets to rest if she wants to. God knows she needs it.
The night is warm for mid-September, but still Robin shakes against him. Eddie holds her closer.
Silence settles over them, and it’s not an easy one. Silence is never easy anymore, especially with them. He feels so deeply hollow that even the silence echoes in there, creating an ever-present, uncomfortable thrumming of apprehension and anxiety within him. A certain sense of doom, one that can’t quite decide if it’s only an echo itself.
“I wanna stop time,” Robin says at last, the cigarette long dead between Eddie’s fingers, but he somehow can’t bring himself to flick it away. “I don’t want tomorrow.”
I don’t ever want a new day. I don’t ever want another tomorrow. I just want Steve.
They ring in his head still, another echo that only hollows him out further every time it reaches him — Robin, overcome with hysterical grief, screaming and crying, curled up on that hospital floor, her cries quieting down and making Eddie wish she would be loud again, because the quiet was what killed him. The quiet, the whispered words, the declarations that tomorrow could go fuck itself if it came without Steve made him wish, irrationally, desperately, that their roles were reversed. That he could have died and Steve could have lived, and Robin would never have to wish tomorrow never came.
He’s not entirely sure if she remembers the words, too. If she even said them in this world.
So he takes a deep breath, breathes away memories and non-histories, feels the heavy weight of his guitar pick hanging around his neck, resting on the scarred flesh of his chest, and tries not to think of the one string left on his acoustic guitar. Tries not to think of his one last attempt. One last try.
“I know,” he tells her. “Me neither.”
He peers over her head, lifting his left wrist to check his watch. Ten minutes until midnight. Ten minutes until Steve’s birthday.
“It’s not tomorrow yet,” he tries lamely, and Robin huffs — the sound wet and bitter and hopeless, making Eddie’s eyes sting.
“It’s always fucking tomorrow,” she rasps, her voice flat and wavering, and Eddie knows her well enough to know she’s about to cry. And she knows him well enough to do it.
“I know,” he says again, and reaches for his necklace through his shirt. One more attempt. One more try. One more chance. His eyes burn.
She turns to him after taking a moment to compose herself, peering up at him through her lashes.
“Tell me again?”
His heart falls, the tense apprehension vanishing from the air, bur quickly replaced by something a lot more heavy. Something that looks and smells and feels like grief.
They both know he’ll do anything she asks. He can’t really bear saying not to her. And not about this, anyway — she’s the only one who knows.
She’s the one who should have had the chance.
“Which part?” he asks, holding a new cigarette out for her to light it. She does, and the both follow the flame of the lighter Robin always keeps in her pocket these days.
She leans forward and takes a drag. Eddie lets her.
“All of them.“
Eddie sighs, pain welling up inside him, and he closes his eyes against the night sky. “Robbie,” he pleads, but he doesn’t finish his plea. He’ll do it. He’ll do anything she asks.
But before he starts recounting the tales of how he almost saved Steve Harrington, he finds himself saying something he never thought he’d tell her.
“There’s one more.” The words hang in the air, and Robin doesn’t react. Has no idea what’s coming; what he’s about to tell her. The guitar pick is heavy on the necklace around his throat. “There’s one more try. One more chance. I’m… I have one more—“
He can’t even finish the sentence. Can’t bring himself to say it, lest it all be jinxed forever. He doesn’t want to hope. Wants to carry this weight for all eternity and never think about all those times he failed to save someone he was never meant to save at all. People like Eddie, they’re not made to save anyone. Hell, they can’t even save themselves.
Steve was supposed to be the one doing the saving.
And he did. God, he fucking did. But he was never supposed to—
Cold fingers wrap around his own as Robin fits their hands together.
“I hate you a little bit for telling me.”
Eddie nods, trying to focus on the cold hand and the nicotine in his lungs, trying not to let panic and grief and guilt and the heavy weight of one more chance win. “I know.”
“Hey, Eddie?” Robin says after a while, the silence stretching on, and it’s almost midnight now. “Can you— Would you do something for me?”
He turns his head, flicking the butt of his cigarette out into the darkness beyond them. “What’s that?”
“Don’t— Don’t try to, to save him. Don’t— Just… Just maybe, could you celebrate his birthday with him? Make sure he knows he’s… God, make sure he knows he’s loved? Last year, no one really made time on his birthday and we just moved it backwards but God, could you— It’s almost midnight, and—“
“Robbie,” Eddie interrupts her, his voice hoarse and wavering, his eyes burning with tears as he tugs her close and holds her to his chest. “You should go. Don’t you wanna…”
But she’s shaking her head against him with a vehemence that can hardly be misunderstood.
“No,” she cries, and it’s more of a sob than anything. “I think if I ever saw him again, I’d… I don’t know what I’d do. Burn the whole fucking world to the ground for him or some shit, I can’t— I’d probably just cry all the time and that wouldn’t be helpful, really.” There’s a weak, wet laugh that bubbles out of both of them, and Eddie’s wiping at Robin’s face, drying the tears and making way for new ones to fall.
“I’d light a fire for you,” Eddie says, the same weak smile on his lips that Robin meets him with now. “Nineteen fucking fires, you hear me?”
She laughs again, then buries her face in his neck in a way that never quite fit. In a way that Eddie always knew was supposed to be someone else’s neck.
But he’s not here anymore. And Eddie can’t get him back. No matter how much he aches for it, no matter how much he learned over and over and over again how easy it is to love Steve Harrington and how hard, how fucking impossible it is to lose him. Over and over and over again.
And to live without him. This one fucking time they all get. It’s not fair.
And now Robin is asking him to go back one more time and make sure that Steve knows— That he knows.
Somehow the thought of that feels nobler than any attempt to save him, to bring him back; to rewrite history from a lonely boy’s perspective and hope that no one else is reading along.
It feels right, too. Fundamentally and suddenly, and with such an intensity that Eddie knows the decision has been made the second he started telling her.
Still he hesitates. Robin’s sobs have calmed down, and Eddie’s hand finds its way into her hair.
“Do you really mean it?”
She nods.
He nods, too, but slower. Like he’s trying to sway himself. Which way, he doesn’t know.
“Make him happy.”
“Okay,” he decides after a while, feeling hollow and desperate, but feeling purpose burning underneath his skin again. “One last time.”
He unwinds his arms from around her and heads inside to grab his acoustic guitar. The last remaining string, badly untuned because he never dared to touch it, stares back at him in both mockery and invitation. A dare. A chance. A promise.
Outside, Robin is waiting for him, looking anxious. Eddie wants to hug her. He doesn’t, only tightens his grip around the guitar’s neck.
“Listen, Eddie, if this is goodbye or something—“
“It’s a birthday party, Robsie,” he interrupts her, aiming for light, aiming for brave. “I’m coming back right here.”
“I know,” she rushes to say, taking a step toward him and wringing her hands. It’s endearing. It’s genuine. Eddie really is a little in love with her. “But, y’know, you don’t mess with time, and I don’t know what all you already changed before and I don’t wanna know but… If this is goodbye, if something happens, I just wanna tell you that I’m gonna miss you. And that I think you’re really cool. And that Steve’s— he’s really missing out, okay. Okay?”
Eddie breathes, taking in her words and letting them soak into his body, his every last fibre.
“Okay,” he smiles. “Thank you. You’re… I’m kind of in love with you, Robin Buckley. So there had better be no change in the universe, ‘cause that would really suck.”
They smile at each other, Eddie with his guitar and Robin with her lighter, and somehow this feels like a deja-vu. The antithesis to a moment forever burned into his memory.
Make him pay.
Make him happy.
Eddie tugs on his necklace and plays the string before he can think about it too hard; before he can decide otherwise.
Distantly, he hears the church bells announcing midnight as the world around him fades.
🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @cryptic-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 @devondespresso @bookworm0690 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)
#steddie#steddie fic#eddie & robin#eddie munson#robin buckley#robin and eddie are grieving besties now#me writing another story about death and the inability to grieve?? it’s more likely than you think#this one probably doesn’t make sense yet because they’re both refusing to think about what’s real or think about anything at all#so past present and future need time to develop above the damaged psyche of two entirely too young adults#so bear with me and give us time#anyway i’m posting this despite its unpolished ugliness bc this is as good as it gets#if i were anything like my self this would be a 7k study but as it turns out writing about grief is exhausting#(hi taglist gang i hope it was okay to tag you for entirely too raw a draft for anyone to lay eyes on lmao 🤍)
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Ethereal Embrace - Anakin Skywalker X Female Reader
Title: Ethereal Embrace
Anakin Skywalker X Female Reader
Additional Characters: Random Queen very briefly (Mentioned) and Obi-Wan (Mentioned)
WC: 1,619
Warnings: Mentions of the Jedi Code, slightly suggestive, forbidden love/romance, italics, slight angst, and fluff
The setting of the double sun's rays bathed the desert in golden light. The large pine-like trees rustled as a cold breeze blew through them. The air was filled with the lovely scent of sweet flowers. All around the desert, lush green vegetation had spread across the sand. This desert was no ordinary desert, though. It was a special place where life flourished and was protected by the people who lived there. Zithara was the exact definition of an oasis in a desert. In the middle of this paradise, stood the city known as Euphoril. You and Anakin had been sent on a mission to help protect the city from the Queen's evil uncle who wanted to steal the throne. Though, he was easily defeated.
Anakin shed his robes, folding it and placing it upon one of the chairs in the room. The sleeping quarters that the Queen of Zithara had given both you and Anakin were very spacious and luxurious. They even included a private bathing pool inside the rooms. However, neither you nor Anakin required two rooms.
Anakin first met you when you started your Jedi training. Being around the same age, he was often paired with you for training and missions. Though there were rules against attachments and relationships, that didn’t really stop Anakin from getting closer with you, and vice versa. And what started off as just a fun, goofy friendship, ended up turning into a - fun and passionate - secret relationship.
It was fun, in the beginning, sneaking around and sharing forbidden kisses in darkened hallways. It was a bit hard to really spend time together in the daytime - unless you were on missions - but at night, you always left your quarters unlocked. Anakin would spend the night almost every night, but there was always that danger of leaving your room in the morning without being noticed. You and Anakin only got caught once - via Anakin leaving your room - thankfully only by Obi-Wan, who was actually supportive of the relationship.
Hearing your melodic humming, Anakin raised his head, his eyes landing on you as you emerged from the bathing pool in the joined room. Dressed in a soft, silk blue robe, you brushed your fingers through your wet hair, stopping at the open balcony. The golden light from the sunsets illuminated you in an ethereal glow, making Anakin sigh deeply. A Goddess, that was what you were; he was sure. You turned to look at him and smiled. Anakin could feel himself falling deeper in love with you with each passing moment, more so with each enchanting smile you sent his way and every gentle touch you bestowed upon him.
To have you in his life - as his best friend and love of his life - what more could he ever want or need?
A warm smile slipped upon his lips as he silently made his way over to you on the balcony. His strong arms slipped around you, pulling you back against his bare chest, before dipping his nose into the side of your neck; inhaling the scent of roses that lingered on your soft skin. You giggled lightly at the ticklish sensation - music to his ears - your hands coming up to grasp his forearms. As he continued to hold you, Anakin closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of your fingertips against his skin. He could never get enough of being near you - touching you.
A small chuckle escaped from your throat as Anakin pressed featherlight kisses along your neck and jawline; his one hand leaving your waist to brush your hair away, allowing him more access to your neck. Only then, did he hear you speak, "You seem to be in a good mood." Your voice was laced with amusement.
Anakin paused his ministrations, nuzzling his nose into the space between your neck and shoulder. He paused, before his eyes opened, his gaze found the sunset; his chin moved to the top of your head. "I'm with you," He began, lightly tugging you impossibly closer into his chest, "Of course, I am in a good mood."
You hummed, the tips of your fingers brushing along the cool leather of his glove, "I would've thought it was because of how successful our mission was." You remarked before turning in his hold, your arms wrapping themselves around his waist; your fingers locking behind his back. "So successful, in fact, that we finished it early."
Anakin huffed, flickering his gaze away from ours briefly, "Don't remind me," He muttered, one hand brushing up and down your back soothingly, "I am glad that we finished the mission early, but I do not wish to leave this planet yet." The mere thought of flying back to Coruscant made his stomach twist; he wanted to spend as much alone time - away from the Jedi Masters - with you as possible.
"Really?" You murmured, glancing over at the last light before looking back up at him; your eyes searching his, "I thought you would've been overjoyed to leave this planet. Seeing as there is sand... Everywhere."
He hummed, gazing down at you - his hand coming up to brush your drying hair from your face before cupping your cheek, "Yes, there certainly is sand everywhere." Anakin breathed, his thumb moving gently across your flushed cheek, "But I am most happy, right here, with you."
Your smile softened, a short hum leaving you, "Me too, Ani," You leaned up to press a kiss to his waiting lip, but before Anakin could even think about deepening it, you suddenly slipped out of his arms; he followed your movements - amused and entranced - as you ran up to the large bed; an almost carefree laugh leaving you as you jumped and landed on it.
You sat up, propping yourself up onto your elbows, before flipping onto your side. Looking over at Anakin, you couldn't help but smile when you saw the content expression on his face as he gazed over at you. "Are you just going to stand there or join me?" You asked playfully, a coy grin stretching across your lips.
Anakin smirked in response, taking large strides over to the bed, and with a quick leap, he landed on the bed beside you; his arms instantly snaking around your body. For the next couple of minutes, everything was silent, except for the occasional breeze that fluttered through the air from the open glass doors of the balcony where you both once stood.
You were both side by side, Anakin's one arm lying underneath your head as an additional pillow, whilst his gloved hand brushed up and down your spine. You played with the ends of his golden, dark blonde hair with one hand, your free hand caressed the contours of his face tenderly; mapping out the constellations of his freckles. The pair of you gazed lovingly at one another, completely oblivious to the world around you. Lost in your own little world, your own little universe.
With a sigh, he turned his head slightly into your hand, his lips brushing against your fingertips in a butterfly-esque kiss. "I don't want to go back," Anakin whispered to you, his grip tightened around you slightly; pulling you closer.
"I know, my love," You replied, "I also do not wish to leave. This place... It's magical." You said quietly, continuing to trace his features with your finger; down his forehead, down the slope of his nose, before ending at his lips. "But we are here, and we have this moment together. Just you and me. No Jedi Code, no rules, no expectations..." You trailed off, letting your words drift out into the quiet night air, "Just us." You sighed out.
There was a slight pause, as Anakin let out a sigh of his own; it was almost too good to be true. "Just us,” He repeated, his words came out barely above a whisper, but you heard him nonetheless. "I wish we could stay like this forever." His gloved hand slipped from your figure, cupping your cheek once more, "I love you, Y/N." Anakin murmured, leaning in close to nuzzle your nose with his.
Taking the hand from your cheek, you carefully removed the leather, revealing the robotic hand that replaced the flesh one that he had lost. Anakin watched, feeling as if his soul was melting as you pressed a soft kiss to the palm of the metal. "And I love you, Anakin." You replied softly, looking up at him with such love and adoration in your sparkling eyes. He swore that there were galaxies trapped within those eyes of yours.
Sighing deeply, Anakin reached for your face and brought you closer to his, capturing your lips with his. Your lips fit perfectly against his. Kissing you felt like home. The passion and longing that surrounded you both made Anakin forget everything that plagued his mind; every dark thought, every fear; every worry; every doubt. He loved you unconditionally. With you by his side, nothing could ever go wrong.
Holding you in his arms, he let his eyes fall shut, hearing your steady breathing that matched his. Feeling the edges of sleep take over his senses, Anakin leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours.
Upon waking, Anakin was met with a dark room. This room was unlike the one on Zithara. There was no balcony, no fancy chairs, nor a large comfy bed he remembered lying upon. And beside him, you were gone. Confusion wrapped around him briefly before the sound of the sliding door opening drew his attention. At the door, the cloaked figure stood, and with a deep voice, he spoke, "Darth Vader, it's time to start your training."
---
Main Masterlist | Star Wars Masterlist
#cute#fluff#x reader#slight angst#fanfiction#fanfic#x female reader#x you#x y/n#star wars#star wars prequels#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x female reader#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker x y/n#star wars anakin#anakin x reader#anakin x you#anakin x female reader#anakin x y/n#hayden christensen
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I have this au that just kinda… drops off half way through, which is why I haven’t posted it before. But I can’t think of anything else for it, so you get what little there is!
SXY manages to survive the poison when giving birth. Maybe it wasn’t as strong, maybe she managed to cut it off early enough, maybe LBH’s demon blood helped. Who knows. The point is, she is now half dead instead of fully dead, in a lot of pain, and has a newborn baby because she just gave birth! She’s just thinking about doing her original plan- sending LBH down the river- when a nice washer woman comes along and finds her.
I’m going to call her Ms Luo for this, since she doesn’t have a name in canon. Ms Luo is a kind woman! She’s kind of enough to take in a baby she has found in the wilderness, and she’s kind enough to take in this dying, half feral cultivator and her newborn baby as well!
SXY doesn’t trust it- obviously. But she doesn’t get much of a say when she falls unconscious, does she, hmmm? And she stays in and out of unconsciousness for the next few days, at least. The poi didn’t kill her, but it did mess her up. I imagine for this au it would limit her lower mobility, if it was trying to kill the baby. Some bad nerve damage there.
But Ms Luo is here! She doesn’t have much, but she does care for the baby as SXY is unconscious. She tries to get medication for SXY as well, but isn’t successful. Just as well- normal medication wouldn’t do much for what’s wrong anyway.
And this is the new normal that SXY wakes up to- a week plus later, her cultivation (which also would have taken a hit) having done its best at repairing the damage, her lover and the father of her child either dead or sealed away out of reach, and at the mercy of this random washerwoman.
She’s not getting any better until she could see a sect doctor, preferably one of the best ones. But that’s never going to happen- she’s wanted now, surely! Demonic sympathizers were never treated well. (The cultivation world thinks she’s dead, tragically killed by TJL. But she doesn’t know this yet.)
So she does the only thing she can- hang around and help Ms Luo out. She can’t leave, not with her mobility issues, nor would she be able to provide for her baby. But she can stay here, under the kindness of this woman, and try and help her out.
She starts to help wash the clothes- don’t have to be standing for parts of that! To save on food, she focuses her limited cultivation so she doesn’t have to eat the limited supplies they have. She’s terrifying, and she’s uses that to her advantage when intimidating Ms Luo’s shitty boss.
Ms Luo repays her by not only letting her live there, but also helping with LBH, giving SXY a new name to hide with, and her friendship. (SXY will never admit it, but she never had a lot of friends. Having one in Ms Luo was… nice)
LBH, meanwhile, is absolutely loving being raised by two moms. He’s learning to cook from Ms Luo, and learning cultivating from SXY. What else would a young boy need?
And then LBH is ten, and Ms Luo gets sick. Like, really sick. Nothing SXY, in her limited medical knowledge, does helps her. The town doesn’t have a clinic, and the nearest one is a while away. Not only that, they don’t have the money to go. SXY can see only one way to help her friend- go to the one place that (probably) wouldn’t turn her away for being a criminal when there’s a life of the line. CQM.
Cue a travel montage of SXY (who has limited mobility), Ms Luo (who is deathly sick), and LBH (who is ten), trying to get to CQM before it is too late.
They do make it there- only to be stopped at the stairs. They aren’t stopped by an actual person! They are stopped by the actual stairs. SXY can’t walk them. Ms Luo can’t walk them.
That leaves LBH, ten and scruffy and probably looking too thin, to be the one to climb the giant staircase, up to the sect in the heavens.
The last thought I have of this au is the funny image of whoever happens to be at the top of the stairs that morning, being greeted by what looks to be a street urchin tell you that his mother is the long thought dead SXY and that she’s down the stairs, along with his other mother (by the way, he has two), and both are dying. Would you believe him?
(I have nothing after this. Please, tell me in reblogs and replies about how you would continue this)
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Chapter 1
Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)
Word count: 3.3 k
Minors DNI - medieval fantasy au, ladyhawke inspired au, animal shifting (of a sort), angst and romance, YEARNING, swordfighting
Summary: For five years, Captain Jonathan Price has been traveling, banished to live his days under the sun alone, away from the woman he loves. He is on a quest for vengeance against Lord Shepherd for cursing him and his beloved to a life where they are always together, forever apart.
A self-indulgent Ladyhawke AU for my ship of John Price/Rory Sinclair (oc) and told from Price and Gaz's swapping POVs.
[Can also be read on AO3]
Five years.
Five long years.
Five long years. Alone.
Each day getting that much harder to watch pass. The break of day is a cruel mistress for him as the spark of burning sun that rises each morning means he is once again left to wander.
Jonathan Price knew no home any longer, held no loyalty except to one person, and as he travels each rocky road and dirt path between villages the sights have all become a blur, blending into one bland doldrum of gray. He can’t even appreciate the stars in the sky, nor the cool silver glow of the moon. There was just the sun, but with it came no light, not anymore. Days were one long expanse of reflecting on his memories of a better time, of the things he no longer got to have. Things so close, yet so far away. Just out of reach, like a figment in the corner of one’s vision, a mirage of an oasis he took for granted when he had it at his fingertips.
Pulling on the reins of his trusted Karachay, Nikolai, the horse’s dark mane blowing in the mid-morning breeze, Price takes long strides through the woodland green as his loyal companion follows, whinnying when the small lamb trotting along with them falls behind. It's wool coiled soft and white, eyes large and innocent, bleats its discontent as he moves quicker than little legs can carry.
Pausing his march, he turns to look over his shoulder and grumbles quietly to himself before calling out to the animal, “Now, now, my girl. None o’ that. I carried you for the last five miles.”
The shrill little cry of the miniscule creature back at him in opposition to his chiding was enough to make him smirk. “Is that so?” He lifts a brow and looks down at the hooved creature announcing its displeasure, a low chuckle coming from him. “Well, whatever the lady wants, eh?”
Scooping up the lamb into his arms, he places it in the saddle bag on the horse's back. It's little head pushing back the leather lid as it peers out at him, bleating once more, pink tongue flailing with its call. “You're gonna be trouble for me today, aren't you?” He teases, grasping the lamb’s slender black hoof in his hand before brushing his fingers gently through the wool on its head. “Just like you to be, darlin’.”
As easy as this moment seems to be, he finds himself overcome by a look of longing that furrows his brow and tightens his jaw. Carrying a loss with him that for so long he has tried his best to ignore, pretending as though it doesn’t weigh heavily on his heart with each passing moment.
“You just rest those li’l legs of yours, my girl.” His voice a husky whisper as he looks into the dark eyes of the innocent prey animal in his charge. “We'll stop for a meal soon enough.”
The journey seems to last forever, one heavy footstep placed in front of the other, and he can’t even blame it on his tiny escortee slowing their pace. Finally coming over a crest, he can see the sight of yet another village, worn down and left to obscurity as intended – his Lordship having resigned himself to letting all the villages outlying his city walls to fester, though that certainly didn't stop him from taxing them into sheer poverty.
Price grumbles to himself once more, a growl deep from within his throat. “Bloody Shepherd,” he husks, “Goddamn bastard.”
Nikolai bristles in response, shaking his large head with a huff and blowing hot air from his nostrils, braying as Price shifts his dark cloak, the heat of the sun beginning to warm him. He scratches at the whiskers on his jaw, shifting the belt that holds his sword, and carries on towards the village walls.
In the center of the village lies a small marketplace, hardly bustling anymore. Farmers sell their goods – what little they can share. Butchers, bakers and candlestick makers all plying their trade. It’s a sad state of affairs as people barely scrape by with what meager existence they can find, but that still doesn’t stop the selfish from trying to take more for themselves. Thieves guilds and bandits circle these sorts of places like buzzards, picking clean the carcass of a dying community until there’s nothing left to steal.
It turns Price’s stomach. He was raised with duty and honour, setting out with noble intentions when he took over his father’s place as the Captain of the city guard, wanting to prove himself to be the same kind of man – good and righteous – but, like Icarus, aiming for great heights… oh, how he fell. Failing to complete his most important task, failing her.
Nikolai’s hooves clomp through the muddy ground leading into the village square before Price ties him up to the nearest hitching post and stops to tuck the leather lid of the saddlebag over the lamb’s head once more. “You stay right there, be a good girl. Keep outta sight. Promise I’ll be right back for ya.” Patting the animal’s head with a gentleness that belies the gruff exterior of him, he closes the lid and strokes Nikolai’s mane. “Keep an eye out for her, Nik.”
Feeling like a bloody madman as he talks to his animals, but alas, they’re all the companionship Price has these days. He wishes things were different, dreaming of another time when he had his friends, his brothers-in-arms, his beloved. But those were the old days, and these were the new, those were times he was never going to get back – he had learned to accept that fate, however begrudgingly.
With what money he had, he headed to the market to get what provisions he could. Having learned to ration, to make it last, filling in with what he foraged and hunted in the forests along the way. He had always wanted the simple life, to provide for himself and a wife - this felt like a cruel perversion of that aspiration.
As he finishes paying at one of the stalls, yelling draws his attention, along with the rest of those who mingle about, the few city guardsmen stationed there doing little to halt the ruckus. Price grunts, a low rumble in his throat, as he watches a man stalk off carrying a bag of coin. Steely eyes narrow at the sight, his hand coming to rest on the hilt of his longsword. Old instincts die hard. He can’t help himself, can’t leave well enough alone, even if it will draw attention. He’s never been one to let a threat get away with something if he can stop it.
Well, in most cases…
Leaving his sack of goods at the stall, chasing after the thief, his cloak flutters around him and he feels like it's the good ol’ days again as the wind whips past his face. Muscular legs carrying him as fast as they will take him, the smoker’s lungs not doing him any favours (but a man has a right to enjoy his pipe). Ducking through doorways, darting past civilians, the heft of his mass keeps him barreling forward like the boulder hurled from a trebuchet.
Price is quick to find that the man is not alone in his endeavours to steal and claim what he has no lawful right to. There’s a pack of them. Wolves snarling, they claw and tear, preying upon those they deem to be weak. A glint sparks in his blue eyes, a breath of life that he hasn’t felt in years, an ember of the old fire that burns in him as he draws his sword from its sheath with a whisper of metal against leather. Tossing back his cloak, revealing dark leather armour with a coat of arms no one has seen in years, he fights through the men – striking with his pommel, slashing with his blade, chopping with the strength of a woodsman. An expert swordsman, his body and skills as honed and crafted as his weapon. The sweat that drips down his brow, and runs down the bridge of his nose, a testament to how hard he is willing to fight. Eight on one seemingly nothing to the man as he powers through them.
A crowd of onlookers form, citizens drawing a circle around the fight. Women and men, their eyes cast upon the first act of bravery they’ve seen in seemingly forever. Five years felt like a lifetime for everyone under the gilded foot of Lord Shepherd. Never had been much for spectacle, Price thinks. It was always just about getting the job done by whatever means necessary. There was only ever one pair of eyes he wanted on him, and he knew he’d never find them in this crowd, he’d never see those inviting hazel depths again.
Shouts of encouragement carry across the breeze, the citizenry reveling in the sight of bullies getting their just desserts – and then the city guard set upon him like a pack of wild dogs. They won’t act when it’s a criminal, but when it’s him? Well, he’s come to expect them to make more trouble. Orders from on high, soldiers just doing as they’re told… same as it ever was. He gruffs, mustache twitching as his lip curls in anger, his nose scrunching and nostrils flaring. Not planning to kill them unless they strike first, opting instead for a good defense rather than an offense. Muscles burning deep from the last fight, a fiery ache gnaws at his tendons, licking at the ligaments, but that won’t stop him taking on another.
As they strike at him as a horde, it’s easy to tell that the focus on footwork, on perfecting their craft as swordsmen has gone by the wayside since his time in the guard. The conditioning and practice pushed aside for stronger, more powerful weapons, but in the hands of those without polish they would never serve any real use. They are clumsy, easily taken off balance with a shove here, or a block there. It’s easier work than he had expected in the long run, Shepherd’s new Captain was clearly more focused on style over substance. A damn shame, he thinks to himself.
He lunges, jutting his weapon forward, knocking the sword out of one guardsman’s hand, before thrusting the pommel backwards into a man looking to attack him from behind. Tossing grown men aside as if they weigh nothing more than bags of grain, Price cleaves his way through the guards’ numbers.
Striking.
Slashing.
Beating them back.
The whistle of his sword through the air gives way to screams of pain as wounds are slit through to the soft flesh below. The wounded crawling away from an enemy they have no business dueling. They didn’t stand a chance.
However, one guardsman stands out from the pack. Price’s battle-hardened glare following each precise placement of the younger man’s feet. It’s harder to telegraph his motions compared to the others he’s fought. A worthy opponent.
Their swords clash, metal upon metal ringing out as they cross. While the younger guardsmen may be fleet of foot, Price has size and experience on his side. Able to overcome and overwhelm by sheer force, he charges at the guardsman, but he is abruptly parried.
“Wait!”
The clangour of steel reverberates through both swords with a rattle, and Price’s cold blue eyes pierce sharper than the blade ever could as he glares over the edge of his weapon at the younger man. Warm brown eyes meeting him on the other side, their arms both shaking with the force of their match.
His brow furrows as he leans in using his bulk against the younger guard’s lean muscle. “What am I waitin’ for exactly?” Price’s voice is a dangerous rasp, his mettle being tested in the arena of battle.
“Your armour…” The younger soldier’s eyes widen at the sight of the coat of arms on Price’s chest.
Jaw clenching, his teeth grit together as he shoves the younger soldier backwards with enough force to have him landing on the ground.
“You’re old guard,” the younger man whispers as if he’s meeting a personal hero and Price flinches at the prospect. “The law says we’re supposed to strike you down on sight.” Laying his sword down on the ground, he submits. “But I won’t.”
Grunting, Price holds his sword out against the young man in case he gets any ideas. “Law’s funny that way..”
“I’m not going to stop you, but you need to go, the others won’t back down, especially since you’ve drawn blood.”
Price studies the younger man for a moment, appraising his trustworthiness, and then slips his sword back into its sheath before retreating away towards the marketplace for his goods and then the hitching post where Nikolai is tied and waiting.
He’s quick to loosen the reins, freeing his horse before drawing his sword once more and holding it out towards the footsteps he hears crunching up behind him. The tip of the blade points at the throat of the younger guardsman who stands there, his hands lifted in surrender.
“Thought you were lettin’ me go?” Price rumbles.
“I am, but most folk don’t go around wearing old guard uniforms, especially not out in the open like that. You tryin’ to get yourself killed?”
“I’m not a coward. I’m not takin’ off my armour just because the Lord’s gone and made his own rules up.”
The young man’s eyes lock on the old crest, his brow furrowing, mouth drawn in a straight line. “You know, things used to be good here, people prospered. And then, a few years back, all of it went to hell. The rise of the new Lord, rules changed, the guard stopped fighting for what was right. There used to be a time where there was law and order, where we protected people. Now…” the younger soldier’s words trail off. “Now we’re bloody useless.”
“And?” Price says curtly.
“That’s the Captain’s patch on your leather –”
“That was a long time ago.”
“What happened?”
Price tips his head to the side. “Times change, don’t they?” His lip curls into a sneer. “New powers that be. People who were once allies become enemies, or they disappear.”
“Sgt. Garrick, sir,” the young man says, giving him a polite bow of the head as if Price still had any power at all. “If you’re who I think you are, then it's about damn time things go back to what they once were.”
Nodding, Price replaces his sword back into its sheath before jumping up onto the stirrup throwing his leg over the back of his horse, Nikolai ready to run at a moment’s notice. “That’s the plan.”
“You’ll need assistance then.”
His brow lifts as he looks Garrick up and down appraisingly once more. “S’pose I will. You ride?”
“Horses are in the stables, don’t have time to get one.”
“Fine. Hop on,” he says gruffly, “Mind the bags.”
Garrick climbs onto the back of Nikolai, his leg bumping the saddle bag, and the little lamb’s head pokes out, bleating once more. He looks down at the sheep and cocks a brow. “You keep some odd company, Captain.”
Price smirks and knocks his heels into the horse's sides, cracking the reins and the group ride off.
Dusk begins to settle, the sun fading through the shivering oak leaves that rustle in the wind. Striations of coral and tangerine blend like watercolors in the sky, dripping into one another as the trees darken into silhouette in the foreground. The last calls of the birds are a witness to the coming night and Price’s hackles begin to rise. He’s on edge, a common occurrence the closer the moon comes to rising. He needs a place to settle, to rest. Travel can wait once more for the harsh light of the sun.
“We’ll make camp,” he says off-handedly, over his shoulder to his newest companion, the first one who can actually answer back in years.
Pulling on the reins, he slows Nikolai’s gallop to a saunter as they look for a clearing, and through a thicket of trees, an old serfdom farm comes into view. In the falling darkness it’s hard to tell whether the farm is in a worthwhile state or whether it's worn to nothing but rotted wood. There’s little else around for shelter and the prickle of his nerves down his spine and his clenching knuckles tell Price there’s no point in looking further, time won’t wait any longer for him.
The closer they get it's easy to see that the roofs of every structure have caved inwards from the deluge of rain received in the winter, shingles crumbling, walls splintered and bowing under the pressure of standing stable without any upkeep. They’ll make do for one night, carrying on in the morning.
Tying Nikolai to the nearest sturdy oak tree, Price unloads the pan and pot for cooking, ordering Garrick to go collect the firewood.
Alone at camp, he unloads the final saddle bag, pulling the tiny lamb from inside it and cradling it in his strong arms. A calloused finger caresses the underside of the animal’s chin as large eyes stare up at him. Heart squeezing in his chest, his brow furrows as he looks down at the little being in his arms, so totally reliant on him. He wishes he was deserving of the trust she gives him – he knows he’s not.
Carrying his most prized possession over to the barn, Price places the wooly creature down on the cloak he has draped on the hay for her. A large hand that covers nearly the entire head of the lamb strokes softly, his thumb drifting upwards along the snout against the soft wool between dark mirror-like eyes.
“Rest well, my girl,” he whispers in a husk.
His armour sits tight on him as muscles begin to expand and shift with the coming night. As the first stars begin to twinkle, his chest swells and his back wants to hunch. He hates this in-between stage, where he can feel himself slipping away, losing himself to an instinct that isn’t even his own. Everything that makes the man falls by the wayside as the silver light of moonglow threatens to overwhelm the dying sun. Stripping himself of his last vestiges of clothing, folding them neatly, handling them with the pride and respect they deserved, he packs them away. Left bare, the chill of the night settling into the scars on his skin and the patches of hair that start to sprout from him, he looks over at the little lamb resting curled up. He sighs, knowing the time will come where once more he’ll have only a fleeting moment with her. A sight for sore eyes that lasts for a fraction of a second before they are once more separated. It never gets any easier, a constant burden that follows him – Always together, forever apart.
The sun finally dips down, darkness blanketing the world, crickets beginning to chirp as the quiet of night takes the helm. Before him, as he reaches out his hand, watching it transform into a massive paw with black sickle-like claws, stands the woman he’s been aching for every day for the last five years. Unable to touch her, his heart pounds in his chest and he could nearly weep at the sight of her beauty. It’s his fault they’re trapped like this, he’s done this to her, and he could scream at the curse that hangs over their head like the executioner’s axe. She’s his whole reason for living and this is what they’ve been reduced to: a yearning that can never be ended, a lifetime of heartbreak, a loss worse than death.
But the pain relieves itself, because in the blink of an eye, he is no longer a man.
cod taglist [opt in/out]: @imagoddamnonionmason @writeforfandoms @efingart @alypink @harmonyowl
@g0dspeeed @confidentandgood @loverofeverything41438 @simplegenius042 @voidika
@quantum-lover @strangefable @kyberinfinitygems @rc-dragons @direwombat
@peachiicherries @la-grosse-patate @josephseedismyfather @statichvm @clicheantagonist
@tommyarashikage @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @raresvtm @cloudofbutterflies92
@justasmolbard @finding-comfort-in-rain @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @imogenkol
@theelderhazelnut
#call of duty modern warfare#medieval fantasy au#ladyhawke au#john price#kyle gaz garrick#oc: rory sinclair#call of duty oc#john price x oc#john price pov#cod fanfic#fic: penumbra#skelly writes
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i know that i've already said that my main verse here will be the more general one for the sake of crossovers, but i'm thinking about serpent's canon route and ending in the original game and honestly ? while i do understand the kind of message that it wants to convey ( to serpent, especially ) i think that it does not serve a healthy purpose in the slightest. telling serpent that she can and will be happy one day in spite of everything that she has gone through is indeed valid, but telling her that in order to be happy then she must learn to love others + learn how to be loved by others is not what she needs, in my opinion. even in the canon dialogue during her ending, we see the chief asking others to tell serpent that they like / care about her just so she will stop causing problems to others.
THIS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT WHAT SERPENT NEEDS. as someone who is prone to obsessing over things ( it was her obsession with the abstract concept of happiness that has caused all of this mess in the first place, after all ) , telling her that she can finally be happy if others love her is just going to further twist and distort the way she looks at things + the way she perceives herself + the way she approaches others when it comes to interpersonal relationships. of course, serpent can experience true happiness through another's person love BUT NOT LIKE THIS, not with others just telling her what she wants to hear so she won't cause problems to them.
i believe that in order to be truly happy, serpent must heal first. her obsession with ambrosia and with "forgetting all the bad memories" directly stems from the fact that her life has been nothing more than a long string of horrors, one interwoven with the other, and she wishes she could forget about those too even if she never outwardly says so. this is why she offers the drug to others, not because she wants to just wound them or earn money through it, but because she empathizes in a twisted way with other people's agonies and traumas [ ... ] because even if the ambrosia had no effect on her, then maybe it will have effect on someone else.
serpent does not need second - hand affection to be happy. serpent needs to heal, because only once she's capable of looking at the world through her own eyes and no longer through the grotesque lenses of her traumas, she will finally be able to find not only her little place in the world but also someone to share that place ( and thus her newfound happiness ) with.
#• ⸺ ﹙ `♡´ ﹚ › out of character .#this was just#getting very long#so i had to concentrate my thoughts but#i do not vibe with this :)#i do not vibe with this AT ALL :)#someone's traumas are not erased like this#chu chu love will not heal someone who is broken#nor will it be enough to make them fall in love with life#or in serpent's case ... it will not make her happy#i hated reading through this dialogue#so i will only refer to this#to criticize it :D#because it's shitty and lazy writing#for the sake of some ' haha ' moment and i'm not here for that#serpent needs to heal#serpent needs to be supported#serpent needs to know that she's no longer alone#she does not need fake affection
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something out of my dreams | luke castellan
pairing : luke castellan x dionysus!reader
request: could you possibly write a luke x daughter of dionysus please? maybe she’s like super nice and when percy gets to camp she becomes like an older sister and luke is super whipped for her? @elz-zalarrr
IN WHICH — all he knows is that you were something out of his dreams.
"trust him like a brother, yeah, you know i did one thing right.
starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night" - t.s.
w.c. 1.8k
warning(s) : cheesiness ゜✭・.
✩ ‧₊˚ author's note okay i've begun to realize that low-key i feel like i write in cursive if that makes sense? if a feeling could describe it i'd say its like using poetry to write? that's likely not any better lol :)
there was but one person that everyone could agree they adored at camp half blood.
it didn't matter what grudge who had with whom or what ancient rivalries transcended the ideals of reality, everyone loved you. not the typical type of brittle love that crumbled at the slightest of touches, but pure adoration that endured the sands of time.
you with the gentle soul, who healed others with each laugh and smile. when new half-godlings were brought to camp, you made sure to comfort them and make them understand that they belonged here and would find a home whether they wanted to or not. you made sure that no birthday was forgotten, no deed undone.
children of minor gods or elders, of Ares or Aphrodite, you became an older sister to all who needed you. you, the daughter of fertility and chaos, the god dionysius.
there was no debate that at camp half blood there was only a before you and an after you. you were like that high right before the free fall–invincibility and smoke and curiosity wrapped into the form of a demi-god. you were the gentle breeze during summer nights when the heat became too much. and none ached more to feel it than luke castellan, who had been burning for as long as he knew.
your relationship in itself was tentative, you danced around your feelings–scared one wrong touch or word would break the shaky, fine line that lay between you two. but you could not hide the way you loved the other to yourselves nor the children of the beings of divine blood.
luke castellan loved you like the stars would fall out of the sky with one harsh touch, free and incandescently self-destructive. like you were a wild, wonderful thing out of a fantasy.
you loved him like there was no hell or heaven but the cosmos that lay in his eyes and the worlds that lay in his soul. something so sacred and rare. a love so true and mortal it put all the greek tragedies to shame.
you knew that whatever you and him were made of, in every lifetime or the next you two were made for each other.
loving luke castellan would be both your redemption and destruction in the making, your elysium for whatever good thing you had done in your previous life.
✩ ‧₊˚
you first met percy jackson when he came to camp, he was a scared little thing who had just lost his mother when the veil between reality and deception flickered. everything he’d known came crumbling as quickly as the truth was uncovered: gods and monsters were real and played games of hell and heaven on earth. some thing about him called out to the vulnerability you once knew when you first came to camp so you made it your mission to be the sister he never had.
you met him at the front of the steps of the main office, “my name is y/n, percy jackson. welcome to camp halfblood.”
“do you just somehow know everyones name,” he raised his eyebrows at you.
“yes.” no, but you supposed it’d be fun to let him think that.
“of course you do.”
“come along, i’ll show the ins and outs here. if you're nice enough, i might let you in on the cook's secret stash of blue ice cream,” you laughed out.
he contemplated his choices before grabbing your outstretched hand and shaking it, “deal.”
you showed him who to avoid and the best people to befriend. the history between your kind and why the gods were as they were. the truth behind his bloodline and the legacy that he was now responsible for. the tribulations and the pain that was cursed to follow the children of the gods.
“and this is chris. the best person to ask if you need to know what plants are poisonous,” you say, introducing him to a guy with black hair and soft eyes.
percy looks at chris before looking around to see where the hermes boy is, “we’ve met. he was with luke when he was showing me around”
you’re cheeks heated at the mention of his name; looking around to see if you can spot the familiar tan skin and soft eyes that belong to your luke.
“oh! luke! yeah, he’s around here somewhere. he’s sly like that, wandering and then popping up the next second.”
a voice pipes up behind you suddenly, “y/n, already telling percy everything about me?”
you whirl around and there he stands in all his glory with the curls you love and the sun in his eyes. your golden boy.
“just telling him the truth, castellan. you’re hard to get a hold of sometimes.”
a hue of pink covers his cheeks, “i’m never far from you.”
both of you oblivious to percy and chris who seem to be conversing about you both and the tip-toe dance you play.
percy just wonders what’s happening here: firstly, luke is looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars and that’s saying something because he has shit observation skills–his analysis essays can attest to that. secondly, he swears he can see hearts in his eyes from where he’s standing and is that…is that a blush?
he turns to chris, who is just staring at the two like it's not out of the normal for what’s happening, “what’s happening here? is he blushing?”
chris just nods, “yeah. luke’s kinda–very obviously to everyone–in love with y/n. if i didn’t know better i’d say she’s gotten him insane in love. very likely as her dad’s the god of insanity.”
he turns back to the two who are laughing and standing closer than before, “like super, super in love. if there was a word for love, luke’s found it”
“huh.”
chris says it like it’s common knowledge like how the best food is blue jelly beans, “i mean i ship it, y/n’s the sweetest person around here–the type of person people write songs about. she’s like a sister to us older ones and a mother to the younger ones. the whole camp is waiting for him to just man up and ask y/n. they make each other happy, you know?”
“yeah, i think i do.”
percy thinks it’s something the poets would write about.
✩ ‧₊˚
fridays are capture the flag days.
you’re not the type of person to engage in these types of games all that often but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. someone’s got to show the percy boy how it’s played.
“okay, percy. remember, keep your senses open and make sure that no one gets close enough to engage. once they engage, it’s hard to fight them off.”
all around you two, people have begun to don their armor and raise arms. the sun has just reached its height and you’re huddled together discussing your gameplan. even though your cabin house is pretty small, you’ve joined athena and hermes for this game.
percy’s voice rises a little high as he tries swinging his sword around only to drop it, “yeah, okay. i’ll just try not to die, i guess. that’s not like hard or anything.”
“just follow my lead and if i’m not here find luke.”
you're not exactly excited about percy’s odds. the kid is lanky as is and his sassiness doesn’t help him out much when others target him for it.
that’s exactly why you’re gone to his rescue when he nearly gets hit in the face by a spear after he insulted one of the boys from house ares.
your heel nearly buckles under a sharp hit after you block the attack that’s directed to percy. you manage to reset your heel and push the sword off before you drop down into a crouch and sweep the legs of the warrior in front of you.
unfortunately you're slightly too focused on what’s in front of you and protecting percy you don’t realize that someones charging toward you from the side.
fortunately, a block from a familiar sword stops any attack that might meet you head on. no sooner do you hear the block that luke’s got the other guy on the floor and surrendering.
you grin at him, “i had that handled.”
giving you that grin that makes you feel like your future's right in front of you, he replies: “i’m sure you did. but why let you deal with him when i can save you the trouble.”
“why don’t you go and help annabeth win the games, romeo.”
he gives you a wink, throwing a quick ‘yes ma’am’ before he’s already running off again.
no sooner than later, a quick gong resounds throughout the camp, concluding the games. you’re standing slightly battered while percy walks behind you pointing out all the flowers he’s found. you definitely need to teach him how to defend himself.
the players are just trickling in for the woods they’ve been fighting in to reband together and in the distance you see a figure running toward you.
holding onto the flag, he continues to look at you like you’re everything he’s ever needed to breathe. he’s taken his helmet off and you can finally see him fully: brown eyes and all dimples.
“see you’ve found the flag.”
he takes a couple of steps closer to you until only two steps separate him and you, “yeah, someone told me to go win the game so I did just that for her”.
“really now?”
he whispers, “yeah.”
his eyes twinkle and you’ve never wanted anything more than to continue to stare at them.
you hope he’ll make the next move but luke castellan, the boy you’ve fallen for in every lifetime, is always content to admire you.
so, you take those two next steps, grab him by his neck, and press your lips to his.
he stands shocked for a minute, wondering if what’s happening is really happening. but no sooner, he’s dropped the flag on the grass and holds you like your the greatest treasure he’s ever had.
there’s a certain type of tragedy that your golden boy tastes like, fire and freedom all in this moment. it’s the price of redemption and damnation that you’re willing to pay.
to him, it’s the stars aligning like you’d will them to–the power you held and every thing he’s ever needed. your his past, future, and present: the threads in his life giving him the one thing he’s ever wanted. something he’s only ever dreamed of.
he pulls back slightly before murmuring, “in every lifetime or the next, i am yours. i don’t know what i did to deserve you. you’re something only out of my dreams, y/n.”
"you sap"
you just kiss him again, ignoring all the campers and those still trickling in.
✩ ‧₊˚
“definitely a child of dionysius. she’s reduced him to insanity,” pipes up percy as he tears off the petals of the flower he holds in his hand.
chris just grabs a flower and continues to rip the petals off like the boy beside him.
“damn straight!” shouts luke toward the two.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo fandom#pjo series#luke x reader#percy jackson show#percy jackson x reader#luke pjo#pjo x reader#pjo x you#pjo#ignore the cringe
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Sex on the Beach
Wanda Maximoff x F!R (College AU)
Natasha x F!R x Yelena (found family)
Warnings: Alcohol | Possessive / Jealous Wanda | Mutual Pining | Shy / Awkward R | Natasha is a little shit 💕
Smut: Awkward/Sweet 1st time (Dialogue Breaks) | Mommy (W) | Thigh-Riding / Strap / Oral (R) | Marking | Oral (W)
With Natasha’s lover deployed for the holiday’s she takes an interest in her best friend’s pathetic love life. | WC: 8,676
Request
"Natasha, I swear to god I will never forgive you," you whined, hands clutching desperately onto your best friend's crossed arms, but she wasn't phased one bit.
That much was clear as she slowly rolled her eyes, "There are eight rooms, and eleven of us Y/N, there's no way around it. Val and Carol are sharing, I'm the one grouped up with Lena, so suck it up buttercup."
"I can bunk with Bucky!" Natasha laughed, "Yeah, and then when Steve sneaks in what will you do? Pretend to be asleep while they fuck like it's the closet, again?"
You quite frankly didn't mind such vile behavior. Anything seemed better to you than the alternative.
——
"Love is love," you used the mantra as a plead and the redhead nearly keeled over. "Nice..." You grinned then, with a doomed sense of glee. "Still not happening."
"Then why don't you make them bunk together?"
"Because they'd know we know, and it is rude to force people out of their clear glass closets Y/N/N." You simply huffed in reply, and pushed her slightly as you released your former death grip on her. Natasha smiled softly this time, but she refused to change her mind. It was her job as your best friend to push you in the right direction, even if you couldn't see the bigger picture just yet. "Hey! At least Wanda doesn't snore."
You knew from experience Natasha was making the biggest sacrifice of all with Yelena, but quite frankly you didn't care. Right now you are feeling spiteful.
Natasha cackled at the middle finger you threw her way, but it was more so because you tripped as you spun to get away from her. You never hit the ground though as two dainty, albeit mighty hands caught you.
Wanda's eyes had lit up, her nose scrunched as her lips raised joyfully. Natasha could see the hearts circling. So, the redhead took her cue to go, and that made the brunette even more pleased to have you all to herself.
"Falling for me so soon, kitten?" Wanda teased, her lips curled up into an obnoxiously hot smile as your uncrossing eyes peered up at her, you were paralyzed; unsure if you wanted to kiss her grin away or slap it out of existence. The way she never failed to leave you in a hazy state of mind infuriated you, like yes, she was a gorgeous woman, but did she have to crumble you?!
The answer was also yes, all you offered the girl was a weak thanks for saving you from scraped palms, then you quickly scurried off to the room she'd be in soon.
Just like every time, you didn't look up nor back at her, ensuring you missed her sad eyes and pouty lips. If you wanted her plenty, she wanted you even more. Nobody else interested her quite like you did. Wanda had seen you at a few frat parties before she then forged her way into your friend group through Carol and Valkyrie.
They were all on the same volleyball team, and they hit it off so well that they brought her to a game night. You weren't known for your silence, but when she entered that apartment you suddenly became mute. Natasha teased you for a week about your pathetic gay panic, she even tried to tell you it was a mutual crush, but you refused to believe her; she who would never lie to you, yet you questioned her loyalty, lost in a haze of fear.
Natasha was honestly offended; more so determined.
Which is why she had to resort to begging Tony not to book the bigger place for the winter break kick back you were having. None of you had family, at least not the kind worth visiting, so you celebrated together.
For a change of pace from snow and gloom, the lot of you saved up enough for getting passports and Tony refused to let any of you worry about the rest. Howard was not a good father, or man quite frankly, but his well of guilt money was something Tony appreciated.
The Fijian resort he booked was gorgeous, and resided on a private part of the oceanfront, but was still within walking distance of the communal areas. It might be winter vacation, but you were in a sunny paradise across the world, the palm trees swayed as the brisk breeze brought on by the ocean blew right on by.
It was warm and humid, just as you'd expect in a tropical paradise such as this one. After the awkward moment spent embarrassing yourself with your crush you made sure to not be there when she got to the room. Fortunately for you she was stopped by the long term lovers, Care and Val, so you had just enough time to drop your belongings off before exploring the island.
The island was beautiful and the people were friendly enough to even give you a tour of the not so common spots. It was peaceful talking to strangers, and unlike in the states you didn't feel like you were a bother.
After they'd been so generous with their time you thanked them with lunch before heading back to where your friends were all lazing about indoors. To avoid further embarrassment you settled down in the sand and before you realized it you'd spent hours out there.
Perched under a cluster of trees, lost in a nsfw book, honestly you could've stayed there until the sun had set but your friends never really could let you know peace.
"I'm not going," you immediately denied whomever it was that was sent to collect you. Fearful to see the brunette of your dreams after finally calming down.
"Y/N, you need to stop being such a party pooper!"
You sighed softly, knowing that of course Natasha would send the only other person who doesn't back down when it comes to your antics; a lifetime of friendship tends to come with these pesky advantages.
After a moment of anxious thoughts you sighed again, slid a bookmark between the nearly finished pages then held your hand out for the impatient blonde. Yelena grumbled, "took you long enough, I was getting tired of the pity partying," as she hoisted you up with a force that nearly put you right back on the ground.
"It's not a pity party," you weakly defended in offense but the blonde only cackled as she began to walk off, "Y/N, you are all alone reading a book about sex with longing eyes and a pout, totally unnecessary too since you have someone patiently waiting to rail you..."
"Oh my god, Yelena!" The blonde took off before you could berate her like her mom would, but not without shouting back that Natasha had picked your outfit out for you with express instructions on not deviating.
For a split second you considered dropping back into the you shaped hole in the sand, but you knew Yelena was only a warning. If Natasha came to collect you it would be more embarrassing and it was only day one of the trip, there were still nine left to go so you caved.
Once you got to your room you found it to be empty of the woman you feared being around, but her elegant scent lingered and left you in a state of contemplation.
Would it really be so bad to see if Natasha is right?
Could you really be oversimplifying her kindness?
The more you consider it, the more you see her point. Wanda never missed a chance to talk to you, even in the hallways of the massive university she said hello. You usually nodded your head or squeaked out a hi, which you now hope she didn't take offensively. The last thing you'd ever want would be to offend her.
Then there was the glaring proof of today, when she playfully insinuated you'd fall for her... Either she is just a full time tease or you are an oblivious idiot. Truthfully, it was likely a combination of the two.
Your thoughts of consideration died when you looked down to see clothes that were not from your luggage. Natasha had apparently gone shopping for, not with, you and laid out a swim suit and two overlay options.
There was a strapless, one piece swimsuit, which you were grateful for, but the fabric over the hips was cut out and only barely passed the test of your boundaries. After you slipped into it you were left with a dilemma, wear the sheer swim slip or the form fitting dress.
"Good choice," a raspy voice called, you didn't even flinch, part of you expecting the woman to be keeping an eye on you just in case you tried to bail. Natasha chuckled, "at least this time you aren't falling," as you'd flipped the redhead off once more, this time without turning to face her as you were getting dressed.
"Or was that on purpose?" Natasha teased, "Letting Wanda save you—the pretty damsel in distress."
"I hate you," you grumbled as you turned to glare at her. Natasha negated your phrase as her hands moved to pat down the fly away hairs ruined by the fabric sliding over your head, then she smiled proudly. "You sure clean up well when you are properly supervised."
"Now, now... None of that," Natasha scolded as you flopped back onto your mattress in a defiant manner, huffing angrily in Russian to get the point across. "You are getting better, the lessons with mama are working."
"Da," you smiled fondly thinking of Melina, who was one of the only of your friend's parents you liked. The woman presents outwardly as cold, but it's not true. You knew what cold was, you'd grown up with it and so the Russian's house was like a home away from hell.
When Melina said, "How's my baby girl been?" last year while moving to hug you first instead of Nat or Lena you nearly sobbed all over the woman's blouse. But with a petty quip from Lena, "what are we then? Just her daughters?" followed by a jab to her ribs from Natasha who smiled at you, the urge to break down was gone and you kept it together to celebrate.
This year their mom had gone back home, they were going to go along but she was adamant they focused on their friendships and hopefully partners soon. Yelena wasn't as hopeless as you, but Kate unfortunately was.
Nat had Maria—who was deployed for the holidays, and it was then that you realized her focusing on your love life was for her distraction and her mom's joy.
"Stop having googly eyes for my mom," she gagged, "Save them for Wanda." You stood up and pulled your friend's face into your hands, expression far too serious for the redhead to believe you were in distress. "We didn't want to tell you girls yet, but Melina and I are..."
"Don't you finish that sentence you disgusting freak!"
Natasha ripped her face from your hands so she could escape the torture that was your devilish humor. Just as she reached the door she turned to you with a fixed glare as you were wiping away humored tears. "What?"
"Stop standing there like an idiot and follow me Y/N."
You followed the redhead silently, but with a scowl so that she knew you didn't align with her view of you. The walk to the private cabana was silent, but soon the booming voices of your friends surrounded you as they practically cheered. "You two are behind on shots!"
Tony wasted no time after alerting you to the 'dilemma' before he was handing you two full to the brim with what you knew to be the most expensive vodka. The drops lost down your chin probably worth more than the beat up Camry that you drove around back home.
After the burn in your throat faded you stepped into the circle and clashed a third shot into your friends before the lot of you tossed them back with glee. You could feel your mind and body loosening up, it was a relief honestly but then you caught sight of the deep, vivacious green eyes that were raking over your body.
In turn, you followed suit and were not disappointed. Natasha dressed you more provocatively but Wanda looked like she was interested in a casual evening. The brunette didn't need the skimpy dress or makeup to attract the attention of others, at least not with you.
Currently, she was wearing a nude bikini, the top noticeable behind the lengthy patterned cover up. Yet it still turned your mind to mush without the flair and left you to ponder if you were ready to make a move.
Your eyes continued to shamelessly wander her body, a side effect of the strong booze you supposed. There was a thin gold chain that worked like a choker around her neck, with another chain that dangled down the front and drew your attention to the valley of her chest as it only stopped just above her navel. It took everything in you not to gawk at her breasts, so you trailed your eyes back up to find her staring at you, eyes full of tease.
You definitely knew then you weren't ready, the closest you came was to send her an easy smile and Wanda sent back a more enthusiastic one because to her that was still progress. If she played her cards right this trip and thanked the godsend that is Natasha for forcing proximity she might just leave Fiji with you on her hip.
Natasha sent you a soft glare when you excused yourself to the ladies room, where after using the restroom you decided you'd build your courage up a bit more before you would even try to start a conversation.
That's how you found yourself patiently waiting your turn at the bar, sitting sideways on the stool as you fondly watched your friends from afar with a smile.
"Sex on the beach!" Yes, most definitely you thought while giving Wanda another look over. Then you were brought back to reality when the bartender tapped your shoulder. Your body shook with fright, but you regained your composure as you shifted. Kelani, the bartender, smirked as you cocked your head to the side in question. "Courtesy of the lady at the end of the bar." You gulped, clearing your throat to thank the woman then turned to see Natasha in a cloak. The redhead winked, then slinked away to the restroom.
It seemed the persistent woman had a death wish, because if you didn't get to her first, Wanda might.
Unfortunately, you were whisked away before you could reach your shit head of a best friend, who you figured was planning something all day long. Shit head was beginning to seem like an understatement when you felt a body pressing yours into the side of a door.
How the hell did you get inside so quickly?
Wanda was fuming, she was no stranger to a one night stand, and there was no way in hell she'd let you follow the dead woman walking there. It actually hurt her to see you making your way through the crowd to do so.
Was the smile you sent her in vain? Were you merely trying your hand at letting the woman down easy?
There was no part of Wanda willing to accept that, even if you were free to mingle with whomever. She couldn't let you try before you gave her a chance, so she pulled you away from the public, prying eyes of the locals so that she could try her luck one final time.
A light flickered on and you saw your belongings, then you saw a tumultuous sea of green staring down at you, she looked hurt and that made your heart ache and mind nervous. "Wh-what was that W-wanda?"
"What were you doing following that woman Y/N?" She decided to answer your question with one of her own instead, and slowly tilted her head to the side. It felt like you were in trouble, so you remained quiet and it nearly infuriated her but then she saw your gaze.
It was soft, inquisitive in nature, but moreover dilated.
Something deeper than lust swirled; annoyance, and that's when she got the answer. Wanda already had her suspicion of who it was, and she silently thanked her before readjusting her position as well as her words.
"You don't have to be so shy around me, you know?" You did know, but the bashfulness wasn't something you controlled around the goddess, much like your mouth when tipsy, "I know, but like—I can't help but to be turned on by the sight of you."
Well, so much for remaining bashful, Wanda's cheeks warmed before your very eyes, but you missed it as you closed them due to embarrassment. It was taking all of her willpower not to give you what you were both in need of. You were far too special for a quickie, she fully intended to take her time with you, "You know, how about a little fun before we go to bed?"
"F-fun?" Wanda's eyes fell to catch the trepidation of your throat, it bobbed out, almost unnaturally. You both knew there was no going back as her knee slid between your thighs to press into your wet swimsuit.
An airy chuckle left her as you whined, the woman knew for damn sure you'd barely made it to the bar so there was no way you'd taken a dive in the water first.
"Yes honey," she purred as she leaned in closer, "fun," her nose nuzzled against yours and her hot breaths mixed with your own. "Seems you're more than ready, so unless you want to object I'm going to kiss you.
"I-I," your voice trembled as your eyes watered and she lessened the pressure of her knee against your core, a sense of fear in her soul that she'd been too forward.
Wanda softly pressed, "What is it sweetheart?"
"I don't do one night stands," you squeaked out rather pitifully before finding some confidence. "I don't find anything wrong with the notion but it's not for me."
Wanda internally beamed, not only would you not have left that bar with a stranger tonight, but you were able to set a clear boundary; she not only respected it but she agreed with you. Wherever the night takes you two it would never be a once off for the brunette, who unbeknownst to you, was a total hopeless romantic.
Wanda responded softly, her tone free of pressure, "We don't have to sleep together Y/N, we can just lay down and get to know each other better if you aren't ready."
Her nose firmly pressed into yours as she continued, not leaving you a chance to reply before she laid it all out on the table. "I need you to know that as much as I crave you honey, it's not just your body, contrarily what I want most is for your heart to be mine."
With a confidence Wanda had yet to detect you gently pushed her back, initially her heart quivered at the thought of your incoming rejection, but it never came. Instead, you smiled a bit more bravely and pulled the outer layer you'd worn off to reveal just the one-piece.
"If you are being genuine, Wanda, then all I ask is that you take it slow please. I'm not the best at all of this..."
Wanda grinned, her hands quickly found purchase on your waist, unexpectedly rough thumbs ran over the bare skin and caused goosebumps to lay in their wake. Reminding you of the punk band she plays in with her brother and Clint on the weeknights at local bars. A small smile adorned your face, you began to get lost in the memory of the one time you watched them live.
Wanda tilted her head. "What did I lose you to, hm?"
You chuckled softly, "A memory of you performing."
"Oh," she sounded genuinely surprised, and that was because she never knew you'd gone to a show. A part of her was honestly embarrassed, but she covered it up with a tease, "If you were there, then why did I never see you amongst the groupies..." You rolled your eyes and she giggled, the follow up look in your blown out eyes told her she was taking too long to fuck you.
So the woman simply took a second to breathe in the moment, her head leaned back as she smiled broadly up at the ceiling from merely feeling you. "Wanda..."
Her soft, warm lips brushed over yours, cutting off your expected pleading, but she refrained from kissing you just yet. "Want mommy to take control detka?"
A deep, sensual chuckle sounded off the walls as you whimpered and pressed yourself into her. "Please."
The brunette slid her hands up, caressing your sides as her lips gently pecked your cheek, then they crossed over one another as she wrapped you in her embrace. Both of you stood there in silence, breaths mixing but neither of you moved to rid your life of the gap. Time stood still alongside you both until Wanda got her own nerves under control so that she could perform well.
"Is sex before a first date alright with you," she teased with inflection, but her eyes were genuinely inquisitive.
The silence paired with your adorable pout urged her to go on. With a heavy sigh, she did just that. "I ask, again, because once I kiss you Y/N, I don't know how quickly I will be able to stop myself. You just, you make me feel out of control detka, so just please be sure."
The look in her eyes was palpable, lust swirled and you felt a pulse of need between your thighs. You whined, "Mommy please," body too desperate for her attention for you to worry about the embarrassment anymore.
Wanda simply hummed, her thumbs gently dug into your skin and you obediently met her gentle gaze. You could see she wanted to, the way she gripped your hips even tighter a clear sign, but you could see that she needed more reassurance. "I trust you Wanda."
Wanda nods, smile soft as she finally broke the distance, her lips pressed to yours with an earnest need all while her hands returned to your hips so that she could aide you in getting off on her bare thigh. A part of your hazy mind still wondered when she had even removed her swimsuit cover, but the pleasure you felt from her choices left your mind incapable of thought.
The kiss was initially messy and awkward as the two of you got used to the shared affection, but once a rhythm had been set with her hands on your hips you were able to melt more easily into the lip lock. Your mind began to slip away, and the bubbling anxiety followed.
Eventually though, the pleasure became too much as Wanda swiftly slid your swimsuit to the side, the both of you groaned at the much more intimate feeling. It was suddenly tense, the brunette's lips had moved to kiss all over the skin you'd left exposed all the while her hands never stopped building you to your peak.
"Cum for mommy whenever you like," she purred, almost teasingly as she somehow knew you were close. Part of you wanted to feel embarrassed but you were too deep in pleasure to care that you looked desperate.
You came seconds after she left a mark on your neck, in the little juncture where it met with your shoulder. Wanda bit down harshly as she felt your delightful arousal ooze down her thigh, her own need now rising.
Wanda suddenly pulled away to catch the look of bliss on your face, internally cursing herself for nearly missing it; no way she'd waited all this time to see it just to miss it. Fortunately, she was just in time to watch your mouth fall open, and fuck if you weren't the most alluring beauty the woman had ever seen; a mess
The top of your suit had shifted down some as every time Wanda had roughly moved your body back the oak door would shift the elastic red fabric. A peak at your areoles had her mind positively spinning with the endless possibilities for the ways to have you.
The thoughts overwhelmed her while you slowly returned to a state of calm, your once tightly shut eyes fluttered open to catch sight of Wanda with her lip caught between her teeth as her eyes trailed over you.
You leaned in to kiss her slowly, it almost felt like a thank you and that made Wanda's heart swoon further. It lasted for a few seconds until you felt your lungs beg for the break they needed after your intense climax. In the moment of rest you decided to take a page from her book, and the first thing you did now that her body was nearly bare was to gawk at her perky breasts.
They sat so prettily in the cups of her bikini top and you just wanted to bury yourself in the shallow gap that lay between them. Wanda knowingly smirked, finding the look of awe on your face adorable; she was absolutely certain you'd be drooling on her in no time.
"You can touch me detka," she whispered, lips turned up as she met your eyes, "mommy doesn't mind..."
With a shaky hand you reached behind her, fingers gently laid against the clasp of her bra while your eyes searched hers once more for any hesitation. "Do it."
Her nude bra hit the floor, exposing her breasts to you, and just as you'd dreamed before they were perfect. It had always been your thought that all breasts were, no matter if they were lopsided, or small, nothing ever deterred your adoration for the warm, malleable tissue.
Wanda watched the way your tongue slowly licked over your bruised lips, you were hyper fixated on ogling her, but as her hand slid around your neck you realized she was just as desperate as you were to be touched. The worry you once felt melted away as you nuzzled your face against her breasts, lips grazing over the skin in a way that almost felt like teasing. But the woman knew you were just trying to admire the swell of her chest.
A soft sigh left her when you became more firm as your lips pressed into her heated skin. The brunette allowed you to blindly walk her backwards until she fell onto the bed, pulling your body right down with hers. You were lost somewhere in a haze as you suckled on her breasts, leaving behind marks without a thought to if she'd want that, but her moans quelled that rising fear.
Her back arched as soon as your tongue softly flicked over her pert nipple, there was hardly any hesitation as you swirled your tongue around her areola just before you pulled her nipple between your teeth and tugged. The way you suckled on her bud was almost feverish, a gentle laugh left her over a moan as she found your sudden wave of confidence to be a bit unexpected.
Unfortunately, that made you pull away with a crease between your raised brows. "Um, I-I'm sorry if I..."
Wanda replied by wordlessly pulling you back down, your face now hovering her other nipple, it had yet to receive the marvelous treatment and she desperately wanted you to touch her. "Detka, please continue..."
The woman found herself melting as you complied, her back slowly met with the mattress again as she fell into the comfort of your ministrations. Slowly, her hands began to glide over your bare sides, scratching at the skin as you built her arousal up to something painful.
The need to have you overweighed her desire for you to continue satisfying her. Cold hands soon slid beneath the elastic fabric overlaying your body, her nails slowly trailed faint lines over your skin until she finally cupped your breasts as you continued to suck on hers.
On instinct you ground your pelvis down into hers, a moan left you and reverberated around her nipple as you felt something hard rub against you. Again, you hadn't a clue when she had put a strap on, but in the lust of it all you didn't actually care much. Wanda smirked up at the ceiling at your shock, something you caught as you peered up at her from her chest.
"You know," she sighed rather amusedly, "I've dreamt of this moment for a while now and never once did you end up on the top of mommy like this kitten." You released her breast, ready to beg her to let you stay but instead you gasped as her hands groped your tits with precision, using the grip to flip you onto your back.
In a matter of seconds you regained your bearings and saw the consideration in her eyes as she played with the straps of your swimsuit. Wanda watched you gulp down your anxiety before giving her the go ahead, she wasted no time pushing her hands up and out of the top so that she could pull the offensive piece down.
"Holy shit," she chuckled, clearly a bit shocked as she found not only were your nipples pierced but so was your belly button. "My sweet girl is a secret deviant?"
"I was a rebellious teen," you quietly admitted.
"Nothing to be ashamed about kitten," she reassured you within an instant, she saw you internally prepared to shy away though so she shared her own experience with rebellion. "Actually, believe it or not but mommy was too; used to have her lips and nose pierced."
You believed it easily, she was in a punk band...
"I would've loved to see that," you dream aloud and the gorgeous brunette chuckled as she kissed her way up your body until her lips found a home against yours. "I'm sure Pietro will grace you with the evidence."
You cried out at the realization, "Oh god, Natasha..."
Wanda grimaced, pulling back to glare softly as her head tilted naturally. "No more screaming others names... Actually, how about no more talking at all." You were seconds away from combusting, an apology on the tip of your stuttering tongue. "I-I'm s—oh fuck."
Wanda had quickly shushed your apologies as her svelte fingers slid through your lips, collecting the slick warmth from within as she parted them. Her emeralds shone with pure accomplishment and joy as your eyes closed. "Mhm, mommy prefers those sweet moans."
"Tell me honey," Wanda broke her rule again as her wet fingers lifted up to her moving lips. Her thoughts effectively paused as she tasted you for the first time. Wanda moaned around her digits and sucked them clean before she found herself hovering over you. "Do you think you're wet enough for my cock baby? Or do you need mommy's fingers to stretch you out first?"
The crude question made your heart beat out of time, you felt ready for her strap but the idea of her fingers inside of you sounded so appealing. It was actually your attraction to her hands that told Wanda her crush was far from unrequited. You weren't slick with the way you stared at her during your ceramics elective.
Your mind had faltered too, so your thoughts faded. Her eyes dilated at the sound of your pathetic mewl as the tip of her thick strap nudged at your tight hole. Her fingers pressed the crimson cock to the side so that her fingers could enter you instead. The spit that remained helped to ease her in alongside your decadent slick.
Wanda had already decided for you, and it just so happened that she too had fantasized about just how good you'd feel around her fingers. However, in your mind it would have been at a faster pace, Wanda wanted to take her time and really get to feel you.
Her fingers kept a steady pace until your moans had calmed into occasional mewls, then she slid back in and scissored your walls further apart, a third finger entered you as her thumb began to circle your clit. You had gasped against her face and Wanda felt powerful.
"M-more please," you whimpered hoarsely into her ear, her fingers entered back inside you just as you pleaded further, "Mommy please, let me cum!!" Wanda curled her fingers into your greatest depths and you came with a loud cry as she grunted hotly in your ear.
Her fingers continued to sensually stroke and prod at that rough, yet tender spot within your greatest depths just so she could continue to hear your sweet gasps of a drawn out pleasure. The throb between her own legs was only intensified as you begged for her to stop but also keep going in the same breath as your hips canted.
Wanda whispered something in Sokovian, you'd never know but she was cursing you for being so hypnotizing. No one had ever made her this needy for a release, her hips followed yours so she ripped her fingers from your core. A satisfied hum garbled by her fingers sounded off above as she once again licked her fingers clean.
"I can't wait to taste you from the source kitten," she practically squealed and you found her giddiness to be so intimate with you endearing. Her lips pressed into yours and her velvet smooth tongue slid over yours without so much as a bit of resistance. You sloppily kissed the woman until her strap slid into you halfway.
There was a noticeable burn at the rapid stretch but you whined in disappointment when she pulled out.
To fuck you into the mattress was a dream, sure, but Wanda had other dreams for tonight's fun. "Mommy needs you to ride my cock, pretty girl..." Your eyes had widened but Wanda faced the fear for you by kissing you distracted as her hands flipped your positions.
You landed on top of her with a hmph, and a soft glare as the woman peered down with a smug grin. "I can take it Y/N, you aren't going to hurt me, so hop on."
A shuddered breath left you as you faced the concern head on, lifting your body to hover her raised strap. Wanda nodded and held onto your hip with her free hand as you slowly sunk down. Your walls clenched hard, preventing you from sliding down further so she lifted her now free hand up to stroke your lip on the way up to play with your throbbing bundle. The burn faded into white hot pleasure and soon you bounced; vigorously moving your hips and stealing the air from the woman beneath you's lungs as her clit felt the pleasure every time your bounces provided pressure.
A particular press of the hilt into her clit drew a moan you knew she'd tried to keep buried within her chest. It was so vulnerable and incredibly attractive, so much so that your walls fluttered rapidly around her strap.
"You're close," the brunette grunted with certainty as she began to rock her hips in time to meet your drops, desperate not only for her own release but to see you fall apart above her. "So am I baby, I just—fuck, play with your tits for mommy, please, we'll cum together."
"There you go," she encouraged with a sultry glint in her eyes as her hips unconsciously sped up, her eyes raptly focused in on the way you squished 'em together before moving to pinch your pierced, sensitive nubs.
A guttural moan left the woman when your work paid off, her orgasm sent tingles of pleasure down her spine in a perfect curve. The wave directly ended with the rise of her hips and the subsequent fall of yours. Your pleasure gushed on out of you and drenched Wanda as your upper body lurched forward and her face wound up buried between your breasts that heaved wildly.
There was a sense of satisfaction that charged the air on both of your ends, but it also felt unfinished as you laid on your back, with Wanda's smiling face gazing up at you from between your breasts, a parallel to your earlier, swapped position. "What's on your mind?"
"Am I that obvious," she teased, knowing damn well that her eyes were still desperate for you. Her lips kissed the sides of your breasts as she began her descent, "you know what's coming, so brace yourself."
Even with the clear warning you couldn't help but to moan like a whore and bury your fingers into her hair. Your puffy, overused lips were already so sensitive that the use of her mouth was never needed but she would be damned if she didn't use her tongue to please you.
Wanda preferred to live life on an even keel so she didn't stop when your essence coated her throat, nor when it dripped down her chin or when you pushed her head, desperate for reprieve. No, the carnal need to keep you cumming was enough to keep her munching until you came for the sixth time and yanked her away.
There was no remorse on her glistening face as she peered up at you with a scrunched nose and smiled. "Sorry sweetheart, but you are just so delectable." As expected, you did not reply as you were lost inside your scrambled mind. Wanda perched herself up on her knees and admired your body as it continually jolted. Her hands felt the way that the muscles in your thighs quivered beneath her fingertips from the overexertion.
You'd been fucked into a state near comatose so for now the brunette decided it best to lay beside one another as you recomposed. With an arm slid beneath your waist and her fingers tenderly walking down your body, starting from your face and ending on your hip where she'd swirl her finger into a few shapes before she traced her fingers all the way back to your face.
"Welcome back," she giggled when your eyes cleared as her fingers lightly tapped over your temple. Your eyes narrowed and you huffed softly as you burrowed close. Wanda chuckled as you loudly yawned against the side of her neck then kissed the skin as your lips met. You nudged her until she was flat on her back and suckled, you were tired but also determined to show her a good time. "Honey, we need to clean up and get some rest."
"Please mommy," you croaked sadly, "I want to taste you, just one lick then we can get cleaned up, please."
Fuck. Wanda realized that she couldn't say no to you when you looked so beautiful, eyes glistening under the bright lights of the room with a post orgasmic glow. At the sight of her nod you kissed down her body happily, making sure to bite down on the bruising skin. Her grip on the base of your neck grew reciprocal as you chose to use pain to arouse her further. You already knew her body so well, it was the best feeling ever.
With a loophole in your mind you kiss her lips, soft enough to not collect much slick to constitute a taste but more than enough to make her cry out weakly. Wanda had about half a mind to rip you away for playing her so well but then your tongue stroked up and down her walls, you had found another cheat.
To you, a lick logically only ended when the stroke faltered but much to her shock it hadn't, not even once. Though tired you powered through, plunging your muscle in and out of her without the intention to stop. Once her thighs slammed shut you moved your lips up to her clit and rejoiced as she drenched your chin.
"I'd say you very well know what you're doing," she huffed amusedly as she caught your gaze on her face.
"I'm not even sorry," you giggled as you trailed her slick all over her sweaty torso on your way to her lips. Wanda chuckled hoarsely, "Neither am I kitten."
After the both of you took a second to breathe you stared deeply into the others eyes, Wanda cupped your cheek and scrunched her nose as she, in true sapphic fashion, spoke her premature desires into the world. "Y/N, you are the most beautiful human I've ever had the fortune of knowing. I know we haven't spoken much but I want you to know I feel in my heart that you are the person I'm meant to fall in love with."
You gulped, "like soulmates? You think we are?"
Wanda nodded with a grin. "Most definitely, you are the only one who has ever been allowed to taste me."
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull and she laughed boisterously at your shock; you were so cute.
"Are you serious?" Wanda nodded with a much more nervous smile. "So, when you hesitated, it was—."
"I really did want you to rest," she interrupted, "but then I saw the dark look in your eyes. They were so droopy and yet you wanted to please me in return."
"Has no one ever tried?" Wanda bit her lip at the question, it felt intrusive but she knew you meant well so she didn't deflect. "Not really. Just once but it felt wrong. I didn't want them to have the access to me."
You beamed with a sweet shine in your eyes, then you kissed her lips with a tenderness that made her smile. "Thank you for trusting me, and taking such good—."
Wanda cut your praise off with a deeper kiss, you lazily swirled your tongue with hers until she was satisfied.
"Don't ever thank me for doing anything for you," she commanded gently, "you deserve to be worshipped."
"I think we're soulmates too," you finally affirmed her prior notion and she looked at you shocked. She had never intended for you to share a response so soon after her aggressively-launched inquiry. But you did, and it was obviously heartwarming. "You're safe."
Wanda tightened her arms around you and just basked in the after glow of her dream come true for a bit. Then, when she felt you were about to drift off she sprung into action while she left you to take a cat nap.
When she returned to the room she lightly stroked your face until your eyes fluttered open. "I know you're tired love but we need to get cleaned up, come on." In a sleepy haze you accepted her hand and let her do it all. There was no visual recollection but you felt her every light touch and heard the sweet nothings as she took her time cleaning you both up to let your muscles soak.
Eventually you two made it back to bed after sharing a water bottle and a container of fruit and nuts that Wanda had snuck to the kitchen to steal for you both. Now you two were perfectly wrapped up together.
Neither of you were too familiar with love, the both of you having spent most of your adult life single, but it's something you felt budding as you melted into her. The brunette was far too content to sleep, with you on her chest her wildest dream had come true, so she was afraid if her eyes took the risk that you'd be gone. Then she felt your soft breaths, and her own exhaustion rise, her extensive exertion caught up to her quickly. Eyes of green trailed over your form once more before closing.
"Oh god," Yelena's voice cracked as she spoke through the door. "I can smell the nefarious things you did."
Wanda rolled her eyes, there was nothing cruel about the way she just made love to your body, but of course the blonde would make your encounter devilish. For a moment Wanda just ignored her presence, pretending to be asleep but Yelena was just too damn intuitive.
"Wanda Maximoff," she sang tauntingly, "We know you are definitely not sleeping. You are probably too busy staring at Y/N with love-sick puppy dog eyes."
Wanda threw the alarm clock that neither of you would use at the door and groaned when all the blonde did was laugh maniacally "Exactly, you are so whipped."
Her voice was strained, "What do you want Belova?"
"Natasha said she doesn't care if you are mid-fuck, the both of you better get dressed and join the bonfire."
At just the mention of Natasha your head popped up, you glared intensely out the window, Wanda giggled.
"Does someone want revenge?" You groaned and put your face back in the safety of Wanda's neck. The way you grumbled incoherently against her skin only made her laugh harder, the sensation having tickled her.
Then the pressure changed, you were no longer talking but instead you were suckling on her skin, returning the favor of visibly marking her until she moaned.
"Okay," Yelena chuckled nervously, "I do not want to have to hear the sinning, take this visit as a warning."
You rolled your eyes this time, knowing the truth to her words which made you pull away. Wanda could see the reluctance in your expression and it made her melt. To see you were eager for a round two focused on her was enough to make her want to ignore Natasha's threats.
It was never up to her though as you got up, Russian curses directed at redhead nothing short of amusing. Even though you presented as grumpy, the woman knew deep down that the meddling Russian sisters were the closest thing to family that you had. So, you rushing to get dressed wasn't in fear of the redheads daunting arrival, but more so you wanting to see her.
To thank her for the push, which you did moments later after the both of you arrived. You led Wanda to a chair big enough for two and left the brunette with a timid kiss, aware that all your friends were there. Tony went to tease you but was stopped by Wanda's glare.
"I'd rather watch this anyway," he chuckled as he turned away from your terrifying girlfriend. Wanda followed his gaze and couldn't help but to laugh, you were chasing Nat around the rough sand on wobbly legs, which only spurred her taunting on tenfold.
Once you caught up to her you tackled the redhead, nobody could hear you two anymore, but they could see you were mercilessly tickling the woman. After a torturous minute she called uncle and you both stood, her hand shook yours in a truce that relaxed you, but then she smirked and leaned in closer to taunt you.
"You're welcome for the fun," her eyes were swirling with mischief as they fell to the side of your neck. "Who knew the group's favorite nun in training had it in her."
"Bite me," you shot back and her eyes sparkled at the ease of her next tease, "Looks like Wanda already did."
Natasha cackled the whole way back to the group as she jogged to her seat to escape your next attack. It wasn't going to deter you though, sand flew from beneath your feet as you neared the group in a rush.
Two seconds before you could reach her though you felt your body being yanked down by what you believed to be gravity, but then you felt softness beneath you.
Wanda had shamelessly pulled you into her lap, she was sat with her legs crossed, and her eyes bore a playfulness to them alongside a bit of sternness. The entire group watched the way you settled, no words needed to be exchanged as you cuddled into her side. The brunette kissed your forehead, then followed it up with a peck to your nose and a languid one to your lips.
"Wow! The beast has been tamed," Tony cheered, the group of your friends giggled loudly and you frowned.
"Careful how you speak of my girl Tony," Wanda said with a tone that dripped with a warning, her eyes not even moving away from yours as she defended you. The sexual energy that oozed off the the two of you was always there, but the visible marks had never been.
Tony sighed at the direct confirmation, "I vote we remove them from the bet," drawing the both of your attention back to your friends who were anxiously sat.
Your tone was clearly confused, "The bet?"
"Catch up kid," the billionaire shot at you, you were just about to remind him you were older but he just continued on being a douchebag, "It was no secret you and the practicing witch would bone this trip. So, as opportunists we all bet on what night it might happen."
You looked to your family with a glare, "Nat? Lena?"
The sisters shrugged while their outstretched hands were collecting the hundreds. "It was an inevitability Y/N Y/L/N, so we obviously made it profitable."
You flipped the blonde off, then the redhead next. The bulk of your friends chuckled when they saw you try to shy away from their gaze by burrowing into Wanda. Everyone was more than thrilled to see you smile like that, all soft and obviously lovestruck for the woman and the brunette adored that you found comfort in her.
"It's okay detka," Wanda coo'd lovingly into your ear, with one hand on your back to soothe you while the other reached out to accept her cut of the bet money. "I'm sure our friends here will pay for our date..."
Tony gasped, but his rebuttal died on his tongue as your smirking girlfriend tilted her head a fraction to the right, her fingers wiggled and the man would swear for years to come he saw a flash of red spark at the tips.
Wanda smirked at the man before her lips fell into something softer as she regarded your sleeping form. Her gaze slowly drifted up to the pair of sisters to her right who stared at her intently. Natasha smiled at her, and in that moment they came to a silent agreement. All your sister by claim wanted was for you to be happy and taken care of, something Wanda promised with a nod. Natasha easily fell back into conversation after.
Yelena however had a much different approach as she glared at the brunette with all the contempt she had within. "Prichini yey bol', i ty umresh', muchitel'no."
(Hurt her and you die, painfully.)
This time, Natasha didn't jab her sister in the hip and Wanda didn't test her chances, she merely nodded.
——
The following morning came with disorientation on your end as you woke up to the sound of a muted buzz. Your mind was still lightyears behind your ears though so you subconsciously thought it was the yardmen on your campus as per usual. Then you felt a body pressed into your sore one and you remembered. You were halfway across the world, entangled with your crush.
It wasn't a fever dream but a glorious reality...
Your eyes slowly fluttered open to see Wanda asleep, with her lips pursed and nose pressed into your chest, the noise from before now had an official source. You wanted to giggle at her, but you merely rolled your eyes and softly cursed your best friend. "Chertov lzhets."
(Fucking liar...)
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff au#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#natasha romanoff#yelena belova
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Telling Felix Catton you’re pregnant <333
Felix Catton (Saltburn) x fem! Reader headcanons xo
AN: hiiii these are some headcanons I made :p im too lazy to proofread Dx if you enjoy lmk if you want part 2! Blink twice and you’ll miss the smut xx
- first of all, your relationship started out as a one night stand situation because for the love of God Felix cannot keep a woman or anyone around for more than a few months—weeks even.
- You, however, were a different situation. He saw other people, you saw other people, but the two of you always kept each other locked in the back of both of your heads. Wether you needed him as a very exciting stress reliever or he needed you to release any ounce of frustration he had, the two of you were just a simple phone call away. And not just drunk booty calls.
- The feeling of his broad shoulders pressed against your frame as he would effortlessly lift you up and pin you to the wall, whispering sweet melodies into your ears as he thrusted with all of his might to make you feel good—no, more than good. He’d never admit it, but for a girl like you, he’d give you everything, even if meant he’d have nothing. “Such a good girl,” he’d purr, feeling you melt under the sound—and for a better word, control of his asserting voice
- The two of you lovebirds were loud, extremely noisy and often torturous for the other students near your dorm, who were either trying to cram for exams or focus on non-sexual activities. You would moan without a care in the world and especially when you felt him release his seed in you for the first time, which you could only assume wasn’t planned nor talked about between the two of you. It felt too sweet, and so pure with how he breathlessly smiled at your sweaty, blushing face after the deed was done. Said smile being enough to make you fall into his little trap and roll back over into another intense round of sex
- With Felix, it was like walking on a dream that never seemed to end. You could be careless, indiscreet and whatever the hell you wanted to be. he provided you with a sense of being free from the real world and wholeheartedly invited you deep into the unrealistic life of Felix Catton.
- That dream, the very one that appeared to be endless, came crashing down. What ruined it? Two little pink lines.
- With an eyebrow piercing that adults despised, a stunning model-like body, and a reputation for tossing girls around like they were paper planes; Felix was fuck buddy material, not father material.
- Sure, he has enough money to knock you up ten times and make sure every child would be provided for, but you were you. Yes, you came from wealth but not the type of catton wealth that would probably leave a child with a ridiculously expensive live-in nanny as if it was nothing. Knowing how your parents felt, there was no way in hell they would be supportive and even just the simple thought of them meeting Felix made you cringe to the point of triggering your morning sickness again.
- You would avoid Felix like the plague you read about in your boring history textbooks and on the rare occurrence you ran into him heading out on his bike or going for a well deserved drink, you would bolt as if you had to run for your life. Facing him was just the beginning of your problems
- So when you finally mustered the courage to tell him and unfortunately for you, it had to be at the university’s sleazy lounge pub, Felix was there in all his glory and sat in his usual spot. Farleigh seemed more interested in drinking than caring about what was being said, a group of girls were scattered around the boys and obnoxiously fake laughed at whatever Felix said, and there was that new guy whose name you couldn’t remember to save your life. Oliver? You thought it was, but that clearly didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was you and Felix.
- Felix nearly chokes on his drink seeing you walk towards him, your head down and your tail between your legs. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
- You ask him to talk immediately, ignoring how content he looks. How his solemn eyes instantly sparked with life again and his bored expression turned into a relish of happiness. He was thrilled.
- “I’m pregnant.”
- He stares blankly at you, seeing you tear up as if you just admitted something horrible
- A baby? And a baby with you? Nothing about that was horrible. In fact, he often pictured a future with you, even if it seemed insane.
- i he’s not angry. In fact his thick brows soften and somehow in the midst of all the chaos of noise surrounding the two of you, his words are very clear.
- “I’m glad it’s with you.”
#jacob elordi#saltburn#felix catton smut#felix catton#felix catton x reader#felix catton x y/n#felix catton x you#saltburn 2023
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summary: vil falling in love with you
type of post: short fic
characters: vil schoenheit
additional info: romantic, FLUFF, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, takes place during/after book 6
author's note: vilyuu is such a good and underrated dynamic I'm never not obsessed with it. always thinking about him. holding them like dolls making them kiss mwah mwah
One might be bold enough to assume that actor and model Vil Schoenheit had been a victim of Eros before.
With the world under his thumb and millions of adoring fans at his beck and call, it was easy to fantasize about the image of a shining star that had left a string of broken hearts behind him. His persona of perfection gave off such a dazzling impression that any other truth is simply unimaginable. Beautiful, talented, devoted...
...Untouchable to such a degree that the very truth of the matter was that Vil Schoenheit had never been in love. He had no use, let alone time, to indulge himself in something that he found distracting at best and frustrating at worst. For most of his life, romance was nothing but another part to play, a frustrating rumor to dispel, a disaster to witness, something that nagged at him from the outside yet never made itself a home within him.
This idea of the confident heartbreaker Vil Schoenheit was nothing but a reflection of the image he put out, shone back at him by tabloids and fan accounts. It was a hollow interpretation, fueled by fantasies of a Vil that didn't exist in flesh and blood. And so, every time an invasive interviewer or pesky reporter inquired about the state of his personal affairs, he answered truthfully: Vil Schoenheit could easily go throughout life focusing solely on his career, on improving himself, and not miss out on anything at all.
There have been very, very few things that Vil has called himself an idiot over. That answer was one of them.
Because the very second he saw you again after being separated by Styx, the want to smack you for being so reckless in coming after him was only secondary to his want to hold you and cry until his water-proof mascara was running.
Love is such a strange emotion. Vil could never understand why Rook was so obsessed with it, how the vice housewarden fell in love with every beautiful person he saw. For his whole life Vil thought it to be painful, to be distracting, to be finite and often times nothing but a shallow reflection of all of one's ugliest traits.
And now, it made him feel weak and messy. He hated feeling messy.
...And yet, what he wouldn't do to have his lipstick smeared over your mouths. To have you see him with his hair undone and eyes bleary with sleep, and to see you in that state as well. It was not the time, nor the place, but he wanted to cradle you in his arms until this terrible, sickly feeling of longing you'd left him with went away.
For the first time in his life, Vil was suddenly terrified of being alone.
No, not alone- he was terrified of being without you.
To never see your smile again would be a fate worse than death, worse than growing old and haggard. How terrible to think that just one simple person could so easily undo everything about him, and yet, he wanted more of that very feeling. He would unwrap himself layer by layer for you if you asked, taking off all of the years of discipline and poise, and lay vulnerable before you so that you could be soft and simple together. Vil had always regarded romance as difficult, but falling in love with you was surprisingly easy.
He did not have to save Grim from the Underworld, despite what he claimed. Such a risky move cost him everything he loved, everything beautiful about him, everything except for you. And as much as he mourned for himself, he knew he would do it again and again if it meant saving the smile on your face.
And perhaps he was too wishful with his thinking, but he could have sworn he saw that same familiar glimmer of affection and admiration in your eyes when you met his gaze. As if you couldn't even see the pasty, wrinkled mess he'd turned into, and were peering at something behind it.
It made him feel utterly exposed and offered him no comfort, but the thought that you were looking at something not even he could see lingered in the back of his mind, even after his magical energy was rejuvenated.
He had become so familiar with everyone around him being a mirror, reflecting his carefully crafted image right back at him, showering him with two-dimensional praises, that being seen as an object of flesh and blood and tears was a strange notion. To behold his presence and see a person with wants and needs and flaws rather than a flat surface, a decorative magazine atop a coffee table, left him with a strange feeling in his chest. The thought both bothered and warmed him.
Vil Schoenheit was so hopelessly in love with you, and it didn't hurt. It wasn't difficult or ugly or forced, it took not even the least bit of effort. He sunk into the feeling like a warm bath which never grew colder, and he let that be his new reality. It felt strange to imagine that there was a time where he didn't love you, where he didn't look at you as if you were the moon itself, where you weren't such a part of his being that he couldn't imagine life without you.
And he never expressed these feelings in words. They existed inside of him, running through his veins like the very blood that kept him alive and warm, and they weren't distracting, just another part of him that he kept tucked away to occupy his thoughts on rainy days.
...But the best part of it was that he didn't need words. Because when you looked at him, when you saw the Vil the not even he could see, you could already tell they were there. The mirror, the pane of glass that had always existed between himself and others, was non-existent for you.
Vil thought that someday he might be able to see himself through that glass the way you did, but he was perfectly content with simply looking at you instead for the time being.
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Izuku doesn't have many vices, mostly because he doesn't allow himself to indulge in any. Thinking them more as nasty habits or stains on his perfect PR record than anything else. Like headaches he'd rather avoid or didn't seem worth the bashing he'd receive from fans and haters online.
But that didn't mean he never indulged.
Especially with the weight of being the number one hero pressing down onto his broad shoulders, pushing him further into his sulking as he drapes himself over the smooth bar top. Half finished handle of liquor under his scarred palm, swirling the last dredges of the clear liquid inside as he thinks about ordering another.
Izuku was only here at this tiny lively bar in the small forgotten prefecture of Tokyo because Kaminari dragged him here. The electric blonde wasn't sure if Izuku had a girlfriend or not, he knew his occasional hero partner to be secretive about his love life which was the opposite of Kaminari who often advertised just how single he was. Denki dragged the hulking hero because Izuku needed to “live a little” and it was “cuffing season.”
Izuku didn't know what that meant.
Googling it is how he finds himself on the brink of a spiral with his perfectly white teeth sinking into the inside of his lip before his tongue laps at the metallic tang that floods his mouth.
It doesn't stop his teeth from sinking into tender flesh, it doesn't stop him from swallowing down more burning booze or sighing loudly.
He just can't stomach the thought of having to face his mother without a date during the holidays again this year. Don't mistake this concern for self pity nor vanity. Izuku is not the type of man who thinks he deserves to have people fawning at his feet, hell the man often grappled with feeling deserving of his given quirk on a daily basis more often than not.
But the way his mother looks when she opens the door, how her big smile drops the slightest when Izuku shows up and no one is there under his arm or holding his hand. Or awkwardly smiling as they meet his mom and Yagi-san for the first time even though they'd been dating for a good long while.
Izuku is just too busy, he doesn't mean to be, tried to board his PTO to take a long hiatus or two from work so he could dote on his partner.
But nothing was ever good enough.
He couldn't face that look of worry or concern from his mother, not again.
It wasn't for lack of trying on Izuku's part either, blind dates arranged by his mother or friends, even the agency! Dating app after dating app leading to dead ends or lack of intimacy leaving Izuku to feel hollow, desperate, enough to seek out other lonely heroes that wanted nothing more than sex.
Still he took everything seriously, maybe too seriously, and things just never worked out.
Yet the hopeless romantic in him never wavered and he thought he had one last shot at love when the hero agency set up an arrangement for a PR girlfriend to keep his ratings high. Izuku did everything in his power to make it work, to try to fall genuinely and deeply in love with the pretty woman who he shared his apartment with. Taking her on dates to places like the movies or to see the Sakura. Fucking her on his couch, in his car, over his dining room table after pushing away the dinner she made.
But each action only made him feel empty, more so than before. There was no spark between them, at least not on his end and Izuku couldn't stomach the idea of leading her on. Especially not when Izuku saw hearts forming in her eyes from more than just sex.
It ended in a mess when she confessed she loved him while straddling his lap and he went soft inside her. Fat tears threatening to fall that he blinks away before she gets up to slap him, he doesn't feel anything.
She breaks her fingers.
Breeching her contract that Izuku buys out when the agency threatens to sue her, the only time the commission head ever saw Izuku's bright emerald eyes narrow and darken.
He doesn't understand why he can't keep anyone around, he begins to think he is the problem.
That maybe his expectations were too high? Maybe he didn't devote enough time? Or maybe he really truly didn't feel anything when he was with any of the men and women he dated in the past save for one.
He expected love to be like the movies and of course Kaachan called him a dumb ass for it. That romantic sappy shit, movies that Izuku and Katsuki had watched curled together on Izuku's couch, “weren't fucking real.”
Only for the blonde traitor to move in with a woman he knew for less than six months when Katsuki kept telling Izuku it was too soon to move in with him despite them secretly fucking for a year and knowing each other all their lives.
Izuku finished the second half of his bottle.
His phone demands attention, chirping from the pocket of his jeans as Kamianri’s laugh echoes over the confined space. Izuku reads the banner on the illuminated glass, the text is from his mother.
Is it just you this year, honey?
Before a second one comes through.
Yagi is asking so we know to put the leaf in. We don't mind when you bring extra company. Kaachan and his girlfriend were a pleasant surprise last year.
But I'll be more than happy to just see my son.
Guilt floods his system, heavy in his chest that it forces a groan from his throat. Idle hand coming to clampe and squeeze harshly at the nape of his neck. Finger shaped bruises forming under thick digits in the hairline of his undercut, his emerald curls doing little to hide it. As the pain ebbs pleasantly down his spine he thinks to pat down his jeans seeking out the familiar rectangular outline before he slides off of the wobbling stool.
Pushing open the heavy door to the secluded alley with ease, mind sharp and feet steady as he looks around. Alcohol never had much effect on him due to his large stature and even larger metabolism leaving him to drink an obscene amount of booze before he felt a pleasant buzz. Tonight he hadn't had nearly enough to ease his shattered heart.
Jagged emerald eyes cut through the alley before he lets the tension in his shoulders release but not enough he'd be off guard. He remembers Stain and his legacy, he knows society still remembers the hero killer too. Knows that most heroes don't necessarily die in action but when they're most vulnerable. Throats slit while they were asleep, fucking, or stepping out into a dark alley in the middle of the night for a smoke.
The thought does little to soothe the aching need in his throat, to feel the burn that could dissolve the lump that sits uncomfortably behind his Adam's apple. Pulling out the half crushed pack of cigarettes and placing one between his lips. Dark orange lighter flickering to life as he rolls over the steel and flint before he takes a deep breath.
Only to instantly regret it.
Stale smoke clots his lungs and coats his tongue, still the acrid taste doesn't stop him from pulling another drag. Mind wandering far beyond where he stood, willing the smoke to smother his hopeless heart.
“Didn't you have a campaign ad against those?” You purr, watching the bulky man tense as his head snaps up to face you.
Izuku hadn't seen anything and his danger sense didn't go off when he surveyed the alley but it does now. A tingling in the soles of his feet as he looks up at you shrouded in the shadow of the neighboring building on the fire escape a foot or so next to his head. You jump down with ease and lean against the rough brick wall next to him. Close enough your elbows touch.
Watching the giant of a man fumble over the stick in his mouth making a cruel smile form on your own.
“Number one hero smoking, tsk tsk, what if I'm an impressionable young lady?” You giggle and it clings to Izuku's skin more than the stale smoke, he scoffs.
“You act as if you don't have a vice.” He glances down at you from the corner of his eye before tilting his head up to blow the smoke away from you.
“Everyone has a vice Mr Deku.” Brandishing your cherry tootsie pop you seemingly pull from thin air. Making a grand show of pocketing the bright red wrapper before popping it past glossy lips, eyes glued to the hero hiding outside the alley of the no name bar.
You imagined he'd be in uptown places, where the silverware was gold plated and a shot of patron was twenty dollars. Not here with the ripped leather seats held together with faded duct tape and cloudy glasses.
But here he stands in black jeans, a gray graphic tee with black sleeves from an undershirt rolled up past his thick forearms, smoking no less. The only expensive thing on him is his watch, it makes your fingers twitch.
You roll the sucker around in your mouth, letting it clink your teeth as you watch him, a harsh line for a mouth that smiled so brightly on the news this morning.
Did all heroes do this? Look pathetic in dark alleyways smoking overly stale cigarettes hoping no one sees them? He looks down at you with a calculated, cold gaze, if you were any other woman it would send a shiver down your spine. Especially from how it contrasts to his normally bright gemstone eyes now they looked clouded, jaded with unspoken emotion.
You think it serves him right, yet still your clawed hands bring out a pack of unopened cigarettes from the pocket of your oversized jacket tilting them towards the hero.
“Take these. Those have gotta be at least a year old. They don't make the packaging with the small warnings anymore.” You crinkle your nose at him, his normally doe like eyes narrow as they rove over you harshly before he quirks his brow.
It's kinda cute how bitchy he looks. You swat away the thought and he thinks he's bothering you with his smoke.
“I thought you didn't smoke.” He moves the stick further away from you.
“I don't. I lifted them off the electric blonde you came with. He's a terrible flirt you know.” Cat smile forming around the lollipop sick in your mouth, watching Izuku's eyes flash in warning, it makes you giggle, “Gonna arrest me?”
“Stealing is wrong.” He stubs out his half smoked cigarette, it disintegrates against the brick from its age and not the pressure he applies.
“So’s lyin.” A smiling retort as you shake the fresh pack at him, “I'll even pick your lucky.”
He looks down at his old ragged emergency pack with only the lucky looking back up at him. Bent and half broken from the argument he had with Katsuki almost a year ago about how Izuku couldn't stomach just sex anymore.
Looking up at you but before he can accept the offer you're already gently patting the pack against your palm, pulling the golden plastic that acts as a guide to take off the wrap from the box. Picking his lucky at random and flipping it upside down before you pass the pack to him. He sighs and takes the box, looks down at the fresh pack and looks back up at you. Sees your smug smile.
“Thanks. Going to black mail me now?” He decides he should have another since his first one was so awful. Pulling the dark orange lighter from his pocket to start a good ember.
“No, I think I've got enough collateral.” Flaunting his expensive, classy watch on your wrist. Well about mid forearm for you, “Secrets safe with me.”
Instinctually his broad palms slaps his wrist where his watch should be, as if he doesn't believe his eyes. Glancing back up at you again wholly expecting you to be already at the mouth of the alley but you stay close to him. Well within arms reach and step closer to him still.
He blows the smoke up into the sky again, keeps the cigarette on the opposite side of you.
“I've got more expensive ones in my apartment.” He comments it almost comes off flirty until you see how sad his emerald eyes look. Izuku wants to ‘be a man', wants to take you home and fuck the brains out of your pretty head but his heart swells in agony, he sighs out more smoke.
“Is this you trying to take me home? Ooo so heroes do have one night stands!” A teasing nudge to his ribs, he doesn't even budge, just moves the burning stick up higher so the smoke won't stick to you.
“I don't do one night stands.”
“Then why invite me to see your expensive watch collection hmm? Tryin to get me to steal your heart instead?”
“Maybe I am.” His gaze flickers to you again, holding your eyes as his lids are at half mast.
Did anyone even know the number one hero could give fuck me eyes?
“Steal my heart, be my girlfriend.” He looks down at you, sees what he registers as panic, “Just through the holidays.”
You blink up at him for a moment as he studies you. Drinks in how those black skinny jeans cling to your thick legs, how the fishnets do little to keep his thoughts pure and that little lingerie you wore as a top had his dick twitching. Left fist clenching when his eyes look over a man's leather jacket on your broad shoulders.
He thought about all the jackets he owned so he could replace the well worn garment on your shoulders with his own.
��I'll pay you.” Taking a long drag, feeling desperation claw up his throat competing with the burn of nicotine, “Pay you a lot more than what that watch is worth.”
The idea of it makes you laugh loudly, the pretty sound echoing around the alley as you grip onto his forearm for stability. He had to be fucking drunk, there was no way he was asking a theif to be his fake girlfriend, what was this a shojo manga?
But when you look up at him and see his freckled cheeks flush with embarrassment you swallow down the rest of your mirth.
“Oh you're serious.” Pulling the cherry sucker from your mouth, letting your lips pop around it lewdly, Izuku watches with close emerald eyes his mind wandering down places it shouldn't, especially not with a woman he's just met. Still thick digits twitch as he tries not to palm himself roughly.
“What the number one hero can't get a girlfriend?” You deadpan and this time it's his turn to laugh except there isn't any joy in it.
“Ha. No. Haven't you heard? I'm too much of a ‘fucking nerd.’ Guess Kaachan was right.” He stubs out his cigarette before pocketing the butt since there was no tray in the back alley.
His admission gives you pause, pressing the cherry confection back on your tongue roughly before you pull it into your mouth taking it from manicured nails. Pushing the sucker to poke out your cheek making Izuku's long lashes flutter.
“Kaachan?’ You giggle, looking up as you move the sucker from one side of your mouth to the other with your tongue. Hard candy clacking against your teeth, “You mean Katsuki? That's Dynamight’s given name right?”
Shit shit shit! He hadn't meant to call him that! How did you figure it out so quickly!
“Oh! Oh please don't say anything!” He looks mortified and you watch his cheeks turn as red as your tongue.
“Don't worry Zuzu. Your secret is safe with me.” Crunching down on the last thin layer before the taste of chocolate coats your tongue swallowing the Tootsie roll and Izuku watches your Adam's apple bob while his mind swirls with dirty thoughts.
Thoughts so dirty he almost misses you add,
“Gonna need bigger pay to keep quiet.” Nails tapping his watch, “Sides can't say I'll be a good girlfriend. I hate everything after Halloween. My birthday included.”
“What? Everyone loves the holidays!” He's shocked you've said that and you shake your head.
“No, everyone with good or whole families love the holidays.” You correct and he looks down at you with a frown. Already you pick up on a habit of his, teeth worrying the inside of his lip as he thinks, “I currently have neither.”
“Oh I'm-”
“Don't. I don't need the mighty hero’s pity.” You scoff, sounding a little jaded before you fix your face, turning to a joke as another smile pulls at your pretty lips, “Not when I can take his money instead.”
“Cute.” He scoffs sarcastically, still he can't deny the flutter in his stomach.
“You're kinda bitchy ya know that?” You smile, “The media makes you out to be Prince Charming.”
“I don't look like Prince Charming?” He gestures to himself and you laugh loudly again. He can't help the heat that creeps up his throat.
“Bet you fuck like Prince Charming too. All vanilla and boring.” Struggling to stifle yet another giggle.
“If you accept the offer to be my girlfriend you can find out if that's true or not.” Quickly his demeanor changes, emerald eyes darkening as they slowly drag up and down your body with a sinful gaze. The sight of him looking down his nose at you makes your stomach clench. You shouldn't be considering his offer now from one intense gaze. A hero and a morally gray person never worked out and it was only a matter of time before your thievery caught up with. You really shouldn't but you know what they say.
Curiosity killed the cat
“Fine. I'll be your little girlfriend til new years. When do we start?”
“Tonight.” He leans close letting his large hand slide down your forearm to your wrist til his fingers are lacing with yours, “It's so late, I really should get you home, shouldn't I baby?”
Emerald eyes sparkling with promise that he planned to devour you whole the second the two of you stepped foot into his penthouse apartment.
“Yes, you should. It is so very late."
“Oh my god IZUKUUUUU fuck fuck fuck!” You scream as you grind onto his handsome face, cumming on his skilled tongue for the umpteenth time in the half an hour you've been in his apartment. Mauve nails around his throat as you choke him slightly, shamelessly riding his face to prolong your high, not that he would dare interrupt it. Groaning loudly under you as he slowly yanks at his fat long cock that leaks with pre. Hungry eyes watching him as you let out another breathy moan.
“Fuck and you've never had a girlfriend before?” he laughs in your cunt at your question. Strong hands coming to lift you off his face with ease so you can hear him better.
“I know I said I was a nerd but I never said I was a virgin.” Before he roughly adjusts you back on his cute freckled face, slurping your clit roughly as mock punishment for interrupting him. Your eyes cross and your thighs squeeze his head.
“Fuck.” You whine and he's rewarded with more of your slick as you cum again, Izuku already decided that he loves how you whine curses for him. Feels you start to slump from the pleasure as your body melts, offering you his hand to support you better as you grind into his face before you can't anymore.
Before this insatiable man lifts you with ease, flipping you onto your back when the needle of the record player hits the center of the vinyl. Pressing you into the dark couch with his pelvis as he wets his cock by grinding into your sticky folds, making you gasp out like he wants before he's gently cradling your throat, slipping his tongue into your open mouth as he groans.
“We taste so good together.” He growls, the sound makes you see stars, especially as his fat cock head nudges against your abused clit. Catching your fluttering entrance and it makes you both shudder before he angles himself properly. Slowly sinking in and watching your face for any signs of pain or displeasure. Watching your eyes roll with each passing moment before he rested against you. Giving slow, rough thrusts that grind down into your clit that have your hands shaking at his back as claws struggle to find purchase in his skin.
“And you're telling me these girls didn't stay for the dick either? Fuck Izuku!!!!” Arching your back, if you weren't careful you'd become addicted to him, your question makes him hide his face into your throat.
“Guess sex isn't enough.” He mumbles against your tacky skin.
“That or you're not telling me something.” You gasp at the end, when he keeps hitting that spot and makes you cum each time. Makes a deep tension in you dissipate until you feel as if you're floating, you wouldn't be able to speak much longer.
He thinks you'll pull away but instead you thread your fingers into his sweaty curls to bring his face to yours. To look deep into his eyes even if you struggle before you seal your lips with his. Letting your tongue slide over his until you moan his name into his mouth.
“Oh fuck Izuku, you have to cum in me now. Fuck fuck you're throbbing.” Your cunt clamps down on him at the thought of his warm seed spilling into your milking cunt. He pants over you, still keeping that steady slow roll of his hips but how you squeeze him makes him insane. Makes his hips finally speed up before his pace turns sloppy.
His moans turning into loud grunts as he fucks you with enough vigor the legs of the couch scrape against the expensive hardwoods until he's cupping your throat again but never squeezes. Looking down at you and you don't dare look away as you watch his long lashes flutter, the sight makes the coil in your stomach snap again. Feel him paint your cunt in pearly strings of white before he slowly lowers himself on shaking arms, giving your throat a tender squeeze before he rests his head in the crook of your throat, he hadn't intended for the two of you to fuck already. Hell he didn't even mean to rip off your jeans and set you on his face so he could show you that he really wasn't boring.
And he sure as fuck didn't meant to fill up your pretty cunt with his spend.
“What are you doing to me?” He pants playfully, kissing at your thudding pulse point.
“Stealing your heart, remember?” A breathless giggle as the two of you lie like that until his cock begins to soften. He sighs, slowly gets to his feet before he's lifting you into his arms, it makes your cheeks warm, especially when you look down at the soaked fabric of the sofa.
“I think we ruined your couch.” He laughs at your joke.
“Ts fine, the covers are machine washable.” He nudges his nose into your cheek and you giggle before he's setting you on the edge of the tub as he starts the shower for you.
“Here's how to adjust the water temp if you need it hotter. Most women love it scalding.” He takes a step back, moving to grab for a fresh towel for you. You try not to let your heart sink when you realize he isn't going to join you.
“Oh a real casanova huh?” He rolls his eyes at your playful jab before he steps into his bedroom to give you privacy for the time being. Fishing out a T-shirt and clean boxers for both himself and you to sleep in. Laying yours out on the bed as he smells his body wash float from under the snowy glass door. It makes him smile as he thinks of how you'll smell like him until he takes you to gather your things from your place tomorrow, that or he'll buy you whatever you want or need.
For now he'll relish the idea that you, his fake girlfriend, gets to smell like him, your fake boyfriend.
After awhile you come into the room, clean and pristine, movement catching Izuku's eye of course. When you meet his eyes you smile, give a little twirl.
“It's Chanel.” Letting your fingers adjust the hem of the regular cotton towel and Izuku laughs.
“Is it? Lemme see.” He rises, holds your hand to twirl you again as he looks down at you with a smile, “Perfect fit.”
“Thank you.” You giggle again, feeling shy for the first time under his heavy gaze. Watching the corner of his lips tilt upward before he points out the clothes he left out for you and slips into the bathroom. Surprisingly you don't hear the lock click to the door, Izuku was either far too trusting or he truly did not see you as a threat to his life.
Quick to change into the oversized, old shirt and boxers before you take this opportunity to explore his penthouse now that the six foot four man wasn't pressing himself up against you.
Tiptoeing out of his room even if you knew you didn't need to, whetting your curiosity first with the living room that was adorned with ceiling to floor windows to the left when you first came in. Your breath fogging the window as you look over the cityscape. A snaking inky black cuts through the bright lights, the wide river bed reflecting the lights back in swirling currents giving the scene the stars the sky lacks.
Even this late at night the prefecture is teaming with life, you wonder if it's exhausting for him. To sonder over the lives that carry out beneath his feet. If he wonders if he can save them all.
If he knows he can't.
The needle of the record player bumps against the middle of the vinyl again pulling you from your thoughts.
“Oh.” You squeak, tiptoeing to the old thing and gently lifting the arm. Finding the album cover and slipping the vinyl in with ease before shutting off the player. Eyes quick to find the empty spot on the wall to where the album goes.
Not on the shelves under the player, no those were jam-packed with composition notebooks unlabeled making your curious fingers twitch. The album belongs up on the wall with the rest of them that he organized beautifully. Each piece placed perfectly to compliment each piece of art so that it could be viewed individually or if you stood back you could see it as something whole.
Standing on tiptoes to return its album art facing forward. Taking a step or two back to appreciate it before the notebooks whisper to you.
Slipping one from the shelves, it's filled margin to margin with text about the albums. The notations were meticulously detailed reminding you of placards at museums or art exhibits. Finding the corresponding piece, staring up at the art before your eyes flicker down to the notes.
…when the music swells it squeezes my heart, the lyrics were chosen carefully bringing tears to my eyes. It's haunting how relatable it is to wonder if I'll get a perfect love and if I do that I'm deserving….
You swallow thickly, know you'll get swallowed up by this notebook that you didn't have the time to dissect, especially not with the limited amount of time you had. It felt akin to a diary, something you shouldn't be reading. Normally that wouldn't discourage you, wouldn't have your fingers slowly shutting the book. Normally you'd devour as much as you could with an excuse on why you weren't where you were supposed to be on the tip of your tongue.
For now you return it to the shelf.
Feet carrying you across the cool hardwood to the open concept kitchen that over looks the living room with the album art, expensive couch and the TV. The large waterfall island made of marble, clean and smooth save for a few scattered pieces of Izuku's life he hadn't yet tidied away like the rest of the apartment.
Another notebook, a theme it seems, lying open. A sketch of a hero on the left with text surrounding them before paragraphs of text and few bullet points to the page on the right again in Izuku's slightly messy handwriting. As if his hand cannot keep up with his brain.
Snow Fall - similar to Shouto’s ice quirk…
“Beloved?” Izuku's voice calls gently from down the hall, you tear your eyes away from the notebook and quickly open a few cabinets before you find a glass and fill it from the tap.
“M coming! Just needed water.” Heading back to huge bedroom, smiling devilishly when you find Izuku.
Seeing his body better in the light of the bedroom. Scarred, thick with muscle and soft freckles kissing almost every inch of his skin. The tan spots giving extra attention to his Adonis belt that leads to his fat cock. It makes your cunt throb.
You set the AllMight collectable glass down onto the bedside table, not noticing the fanboy item until you see his flushed cheeks, following his eyes to the PLUS ULTRA cup. The source of his embarrassment makes you giggle again.
“It's cute.” You reassure, jumping on top of the deep viridian duvet, cocking your hand on your hip and pulling your shirt up to show a little skin.
“When's the last time you fucked on this great big bed?” He doesn't answer you right away, basil eyes looking at you before they begin to look through you.
A burning ember gaze sears his memory, he closes his eyes as if that would stop the images from demanding every last shred of his attention..
“Been awhile.” He finally admits, dropping his towel unashamed as he steps into his black boxer briefs. They cup his sac and softened cock nicely, clinging to his thick thighs that have you salivating. The way he ate pussy and fucked was almost good enough to replace the cold hard cash he promised to pay, almost.
That distant look in his eyes made you wonder if there was someone else that held him back from his romantic endeavors.
“Shall we christen this great big bed too then?” A playful tease as you pull up the fabric of his shirt to expose your breasts. He loved the sight, loved how you looked in his clothes, in his bed, underneath him as his emerald pendant swings in your face.
His cock twitches, a tick in his jaw before he's clasping his hands in restraint. Wringing his fingers as he thinks of the last time he fucked in that bed.
He feels the ghost of sharp canines at the nape of his neck, his hand automatically moves to brush over the area. His curls fall over his eyes and he sighs deeply.
“No. I think you should sleep.” He smiles softly, it doesn't reach his eyes and you don't push, “We've got a big day tomorrow. Got to get your stuff and -”
“I don't have a lot of stuff. My outfit was the most of it.”
“You don't have any other clothes?”
“Maybe another pair of pants, some underwear for sure but this is mostly it. So we have time.” You purr, crawling down the bed before you flop onto your stomach. Arching your back purposefully, out stretching your fingers to play with his.
“Then it will be even longer. We'll have to get you an outfit for the party.” He threads his fingers with yours before you let go when his words register. Sitting straight up.
“Party?”
“Yes, baby doll, party. We've got several to go to. Maybe a gala too. Then there's the agency Christmas party oh and…” He bites at his lip as he rest his chin on scarred digits beginning to go off on a tangent as he thinks of all the invitations stuffed in the top desk drawer of his office.
“A gala?!” Oh fuck oh fuck this was a bad idea. When he said girlfriend through the holidays you thought fucking and a private date or two. Not being surrounded by pro heroes you ran from on the daily, identity concealed with a mask.
Not only would you be in the literal lion’s den but you really weren't the most classy type of bitch. You've never really been invited to any big event let alone one that was fucking televised. At least not events you didn't crash to slide priceless paintings off the walls or expensive jewelry off the wrists of the one percent. At least then you'd have your mask to hide behind, the ability to blend into the crowd but now you'd be hanging off the arm of the number one hero.
You'd have to act like a proper lady who definitely didn't crash in vacation homes or half lived in apartments of the rich and the famous while they stayed in their main mansions until they got tired of the same old four walls.
Each gig you promised that this would be your last and each time you found yourself with a new piece of jewelry made from dazzling gems of deconstructed designer pieces hungry for the next heist.
Art and jewelry weren't the only things you've stolen, information and secrets often sold for a lot more but Izuku, pro hero Deku, didn't need to know you had a stash house, more like stash attic, in some rundown home in Kamakura you'd gotten for a steal.
His thighs bump up against the edge of the bed, cupping your cheeks for a moment, “You look…worried.”
“I am worried. Some of these events are televised. Are you sure you want me? I'm not exactly Yaoyorozu or Kendo."
“I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't.” He comes down to press his lips to your forehead. It makes your stomach flutter, it shouldn't, “Besides those will be the easiest ones. The hard ones are the more personal settings.”
He leans back, takes his hands from your face as he heads towards the lights, “I won't let anything happen to you.”
He flicks off the lights, stands by the door for a moment before he goes to shut it.
“You're really going to sleep on the couch? I thought we had to make this realistic.” A final attempt to get him to at least come and enjoy his luxury bed. It was big enough that you doubted the two of you would even touch by accident in the middle of the night. If he was so afraid of intimacy, which was odd, he seemed more the time to fall in love if he fucked. Especially when he did romantic shit like fuck you to music and whisper some of the lyrics in your ear.
You pat his side with sharp clawed fingers, “Come on boyfriend.”
He can't remember the last time he slept in his bed, changing and washing the sheets more out of habit than necessity and as he tries to recall he thinks it's been over a year.
He looks at you for a long, long time, you curled up in his expensive sheets and comforter as you pat the spot beside you patiently but he sighs.
“Maybe another time. Good night sugar.”
“Good night Zuzu bear.”
#izuku x reader#izuku midoryia x reader#midoryia izuku x reader#deku x reader#bnha x reader#kitten writes izuku 🖤🐈⬛ 🖋️
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hi girlies :)). i've got another breeding blurby to share, thank ms. bubbles @harrysonlylover.
wc: 1.6k
cw: talk of menstrual and ovulation cycle, smut, minors dni, 17+, breeding kink, and more. not proofread.
Some people might say that the extent of his knowledge and control over Y/N’s life is not healthy. They might even suggest that his possessive behavior is a red flag, too. The constant messaging, always knowing her location, who she’s with, when she’s with them, why, how…
They didn’t tend to think of it that way. Love comes in all forms and theirs is… different.
Y/N likes being controlled. She wants him to know everything about her. She fucking craves the comfort of being taken care of for the price of absolutely nothing.
Well, maybe a few things.
Her obedience, for one, was expected (required). Her honesty, and loyalty. Her submission, too (although, sometimes, he liked to submit to her).
They’d found a simple way of living on some inherit, basic principles.
One, Y/N loved to be taken care of.
Two, he loved to take care of her.
So that was that. He was controlling, and she reveled in the power imbalance, and they didn’t care if others didn’t understand it, or like it, or even respect it. It was theirs, and it was enough.
It was fucking perfect.
One of the many ways he kept a tight leash on Y/N’s life was by tracking her menstrual cycle. He liked being ahead of the game—warm bath with waterlily scented suds ready for when she arrived home after her courses, her favorite sweet treats scattered across the kitchen island, Gilmore Girls queued up on his laptop, candles lit and heating pad at attention. Keeping track of her period meant knowing other things, intuitively, too. Like knowing that her cramps were worst on the first few days ( they were horrendous the last days too, though), that she’s more cuddly and soft than irritable or grumpy, that if she was too— no, severely stressed, overworking herself mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d more likely than not work herself into a dreadful tizzy and end up intensifying (or even sometimes missing) her cycle.
Like now.
The poor thing, she was curled up in a frail little ball by end of the night every day this past week, deadlines looming over her head like a dark, rainy cloud as midterms approach. And, stubborn angel girl she is, she doesn’t bleat and moan about it to him. She doesn’t weep into his chest about how difficult this time is the way he encourages her to. She holds her chin high until the sun falls from the sky, her perseverance going with it, the stars and moon left to keep her and her misery company. And him, of course.
So, before the height of her period—when the red devil actually rears her ugly little head instead of inspiring trepidation of the inevitable with sore tits, an achy spine, and mental anguish—he thinks he’ll treat her a bit. And perhaps himself, as well (what? periods meant ovulating, and ovulating meant a lot of things).
———
Y/N’s head is quiet for the first time in days, and it’s all because of him.
As if anyone else could do what he does for her.
“Pretty girl,” he whispers in the place he’s nuzzled into her neck, littered with love bites and bruises. His cock is stuffed in her drippy pussy, stretching her deliciously over his thick, lengthy girth; his strong, beefy arms trapping her body to his like a vice.
Cowgirl usually makes Y/N’s thighs sore, but he’d taken the liberty of doing all the work tonight. He was in no mood for teasing, nor mocking or degrading. She wasn’t his whore tonight, just his girl. His soft, gorgeous, sensitive girl that deserved a sweet fucking after all the tears she’d choked down this week.
She needed a good cry.
“My little pillow princess, Yeah?” He mumbles, peaking up at her sluggish form. She’s slumped into him, head lain on his shoulder uselessly, hands gripping the tight Henley he’d neglected to rid himself of in the rush of their lustrous dance. She manages a nod, however, lazy and slow, but, somehow, still urgent. Frantic. In the glow of her eye, he can see, she adores that idea. “Yeah,” He nods, gripping the soft curve of her jaw to move her head with him, “My girl.”
She whimpers, but doesn’t speak. Too exhausted, too sedated. His cum is addicting, and if it were a drug, she’d inject it right into her veins (up her cunt).
Her arms wind around his neck, fingers spreading through the curly, sweaty tendrils of hair at the nape. Her nails tickle him, in the best way, only adding to the allure of her being. Of her mere presence.
Her hips swivel, rocking against his to create a mind-numbing sensation that has them both mewling. His cock stretches her out and fills her up completely, felt in the deepness of her tummy. Her lashes flutter when she feels him twitch inside of her, a sign that he’s close (she’d realize that she’s much closer if she had the brain capacity to think of anything other than him).
The thought—of his cum filling her to the point of spilling around their joined parts, a filthy mess between their legs—makes her dizzy. Eager. She’d been good, so good, this week, hadn’t she?
Fed herself, cleaned herself, went to class on time, even though school made her unpleasantly weak in the knees. She studied every day for at least three hours at the library, before trudging home with bleary eyes and a foggy head, only to do more studying.
She deserved a treat, right? A reward for staying in line, for not being bratty or whiny when he was busy and all she wanted was for her brain to shut off.
Now, with the opportunity before her (to go totally brain-dead, that is), she refuses to not seize the moment.
“Come,” she says suddenly, catching him mildly off guard.
Oh? She wanted to order him around?
“Please.”
Oh. Guess not.
“Please, please, come, Sir, I want it, so fucking bad,” she whines, mouthing at the chain sitting delicately across his neck. It’s nearly out of place; something so frail and pretty looks almost comical gracing his large, stocky figure. Perhaps that’s how those judgy people saw them, out of place.
She didn’t care though, she thought it looked nice on him. He made it look nice. Made it better, just like he makes everything better.
“Wan’ me t’a stuff you up, Babydoll?” he grunts, thankful that she’d somehow picked up on his primitive, feral need. Or maybe she just wanted it just as bad. “Fill you with my come and make you m’messy girl?”
“Yes, please,” she cries faintly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, hiding her face in his neck as the tears finally start to flow.
How precious.
“Okay,” he sighs, his hands trailing from her hips to the plush, full of her ass. “I’ll fill y’up, Sugar.” He lifts her up, letting his cock slip from her fluttering hole to the tip— less than the tip. He smears himself onto her clit, making her jolt, and spanks her in reprimand. “Stay still for Daddy,” he scolds softly. “Lemme do my job.”
She cries pitifully when her thrusts back inside, hard. And he doesn’t lighten up. Not in the slightest. He pounds his cock into her small pussy, chasing his orgasm, trying to claim hers, bullying his way through her tight snatch to find them.
“Play with your pouty clit, Doll,” he offers. “Wan’ y’to come with me; cream my fat cock, Baby.”
Y/N does not need to be told twice.
One hand drops from the back of his head to toy with her swollen button, and it takes three weak twirls of her delicate fingers to get her there. He’s not far behind, nuzzling into her neck once more, mirroring her own position on top of him, groaning out profanities as his orgasm washes over him, from his head to the tips of his toes. He continues to drill his cock into her until his legs give out, trembling beneath her own.
They pant heavily, in unison, into each others necks as they start to come down.
He feels good, accomplished. He can feel that satisfaction rolling off of his girl in waves—felt it throughout their soft session—and it was more than enough to keep him happy. His orgasm was just a much appreciated bonus.
And Y/N… she feels great. Cunt clenching over his half-hard cock, full of him, literally, in every way she could be. Thoughts silenced and replaced with rose hued daydreams, floaty, fuzzy sensations that tingle through her entire body and make her slightly sluggish, slow. She feels fucking amazing.
“Hope it takes…” she admits softly, absently. The phrase slips off of her tongue without thought (we’ve established that their are none left in that subby head of hers), and her tone suggests she’s not expecting a reaction.
He gives her one, anyway.
“Say that again,” he demands, grip on her ass tightening, his voice grumbly, deep, shooting a shiver up her spine.
“Huh?”
“Tell Daddy what the fuck you just said, Babydoll.”
Her eyes round out even more, if possible, lips parted, gazing owlishly. Stupidly.
“Said, ‘I hope it takes,’ Daddy,” She whimpers quietly, squeezing around his, once again, stiff prick.
“Shit,” he hisses, eyes fluttering.
It’s like she wanted to stay locked on his cock all night.
…Oh well.
So be it.
“It’ll take, Sugar,” he says after a few moments of tense silence, shifting her up gently, manhandling her with a softness that makes her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, sweet. Contradictory.
“Daddy’ll make it take.”
#evelyn speaks#i hope this cheers u up bubbles :(((#sending love kithes and hugs <33#harry styles x reader#jon bernthal x reader#sebastian stan x reader#dylan o'brien x reader#drew starkey x reader#rudy pankow x reader#chris evans x reader#ross lynch x reader#aaron taylor johnson x reader#jermey allen white x reader#carlos sainz x reader#cillian murphy x reader#tom hardy x reader#hayden christensen x reader#andrew garfield x reader#smut#smutty fic#writing#fanfic#fanfiction
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CW: A literal Serial Killer, obv gore description.
Yan! Serial Killer who didn't expect to fall head over heels for you, his supposed next victim. Don't get him wrong, he still wishes he could just yank those eyeballs out of your eye sockets and dip them into his cup of tea but he will refrain from doing so, just yet.
Yan! Serial Killer who loves to hide under your bed and waits for you to either fall asleep, stay up like a bat, or do your business. He's savoring every little noise you make like a fine wine.
Yan! Serial Killer who will actually stay in your home like he lives in it. Won't hesitate to make himself a dinner if you are a heavy sleeper (can always just knock you out with sleeping pills). That said he will also shower in your home, savoring the scent of the products you are using
Yan! Serial Killer who actually helps you in one way or another! Oh goodie, you ran out of soap! Here, let him refill it for you. Wait, you got a stain on your shirt. tsk tsk tsk, this will do justice. Hm? Are we running out of eggs? A visit to the market will solve the problem!
Yan! Serial Killer who loves to collect the eyeballs of anyone who dares to look at you for more than 5 seconds adoringly. He's lucid enough to differentiate which one to be spared and which one is not.
Yan! Serial Killer who almost squeals happily when you acknowledge him indirectly. "Perhaps my fairy godmother has finally come to help me," you quoted.
Yan! Serial Killer who can't help but stroke one out on your sleeping figure, his hand lifting your pajama up to reveal your chest. He will go as far as to rub his cock against your sex then whoops, plunge it into your hole <3
Yan! Serial Killer who contemplates whether he should cum inside you or not. One thing leads to another, and he chooses not to (It's rather troublesome to wash you up so he just came inside your mouth <3
!! Gore Warning !! (You don't have to read it if you are not a fan of it, nb: Cannibalism and Necrophilia + Backstory)
Yan! Serial Killer who somehow adores the idea of gutting you and feeling your innards, tasting how your heart beats against his tongue, or playing with guts as though he is making dough.
Yan! Serial Killer who adores you so much that he won't stop rutting against you, fucking you despite your state, cold and unmoving. Dead. He might even treat himself by burying himself deep in your guts huh?
Yan! Serial Killer who will not let death separate you two. Didn't you know that the reason he fell for you? Ah, you didn't know why he is branded as a serial killer too right?
Erickson is a man of wonder, due to his upbringing as the first heir of an infamous dukedom, he has been spoiled rotten with everything he has always wanted.
Nonetheless, he feels like he has never even once been given what he truly wanted because the supposed first heir is supposed to be his twin brother, Noel, who came out first.
In the mansion where his family resided, there was a servant who caught his twin brother's heart. A girl, or a boy? He pondered. It appeared that you were an orphan that his mother took in out of pity for your state.
It was not love nor fascination. It was the urge to take and destroy what Noel possessed and adored. And this kept going even until the three of you grew up as adults.
He would do anything to tarnish his brother's life, his position, his honor, and his beloved. That would also include you, his unrequited lover whom he accidentally met during his killing spree.
It was boredom that killed him and killing people kept him away from boredom. But you? You surely would not fail to ease his boredom for you were whom his brother longed for.
And what Noel longed for would be what Erickson longed for as well, alas loving you in his stead.
#Erickson the Chosen#CatboX#Yandere x Reader#Yandere Smut#Yandere Headcanons#Yandere Imagines#Yandere scenarios
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Since you're starting JJK, can you do the sleeping with a yandere ask for Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nanami, Gojo and characters of your choice?
I’ll be going on a vacation during my holidays so expect little to no updates from me then. Those sleeping habits that are what I imagine those characters to be like, by the way.
Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationship, toxic relationship, obsession, possessive behavior, delusion, clinginess, abduction
Sleeping with a Yandere
Itadori Yuji
🩷Yuji is a walking cuddle bear already if you two aren't sleeping in the same bed because he just can't get enough of his sweetheart. An abduction is never something that Yuji sees himself doing nor do you really so with the so unexpected abduction your relationship falls apart and it breaks Yuji's heart. Maybe some part of his brain can understand why you're as upset as you are right now but considering that he only resorts to an abduction in extreme situations, another part of him is just as stubborn to believe that he has done only something to be able to protect you. It isn't like he plans to imprison you forever after all. His delusions have even made him hope that you'd want to share a bed with him yet he resigns himself to your rejection and prepares a futon for you in another room.
🩷One of the most obvious problems with Yuji isn't even something that is his own fault. Sukuna has to make some comments from time to time to try to annoy and anger the boy which might happen whilst both of you try to sleep as well. He always slaps the mouth of Sukuna that suddenly appears and apologizes to you slightly embarrassed about the inconvenience. Otherwise Yuji sleeps well, really well. Maybe sometimes a bit too well as you can't help but wonder how you can get him to wake up when you awake in the middle of the night and feel the urgent need to go to the bathroom. It always takes you a minute or two of shaking, light slapping and whispering his name until he wakes up and lets you out of his arms because his grip is too strong for you to free yourself alone. He snores slightly but that isn't the worst, you'd much rather make a fuss about the fact that he tends to drool on you in his sleep.
Fushiguro Megumi
💙As Megumi's darling you'd do the both of you a favor by being a reassuring individual since the Jujutsu Sorcerer tends to be very easily paranoid. He's had a case of being stressed around people before yet now with your addition to his life, this all becomes just multiple times worse. Ultimately it is this paranoia that drives him to the act of an abduction and similar to Yuji, he partially knows why it would scare you. Yet he has never had problems with justifying questionable actions with his love for you in mind so this won't be any different in this scenario. Why don't you understand that this was all done for your safety?? A strong negative response from your side leads to avoidance as he gives you time, gives himself partially time too to calm himself. Both of you sleep in different rooms during that time, although you know that he still keeps an eye on you.
💙He doesn't want to show a very strong response when both of you start sharing a bed, it isn't his style. He would be lying though if he would say that he isn't looking forward to it. It's one of the highlights of his entire day where he has to exhaust himself with the antics of his fellow Jujutsu Sorcerers and pressure from the Zenin clan so spending the hours of the night with your warmth close to his body always reminds him that there's still something good left for him, a person who makes all the drama durable. I see him as someone who needs hours to fall asleep simply because there's so much going on in his mind and often it happens that Megumi goes through interactions you had with people that day and start overthinking certain gestures and words you exchanged with them. He isn't someone with a deep sleep either and worst of all is that he tends to wake up a lot at night, his gaze always searching for you every time that happens and if he doesn't see you, he tends to freak out a bit.
Zenin Maki
💚If her darling is acting like a crybaby after their abduction, there might be signs of very mild annoyance from Maki's side but otherwise she is very patient. She fully understand why you're upset and mad at her, she's aware of what she has done. The aspect of protection dulls potential guilt though as she will always value your safety and life over your own feelings if there is no other way around it. She's so tough and strict but oddly fair at the same time because her cold facade doesn't mean that she just doesn't care at all. She's willing to give you some space and time for yourself as she's sure that you need it and as long as you don't try to escape or are seriously rude, she won't force you into anything. You get your own room with your own bed to sleep in and won't hear much from her for the next few days, although you know that she's still checking on you.
💚She is looking forward to it but don't expect her to openly admit that. She isn't one to ask you first about this and if you're the one to suggest it first, she will never spot teasing you subtly about it for the rest of your life. She does her best though to suppress the smug grin that wants to appear on her face during the first few nights. She isn't actively cuddling you but you definitely have a problem at hand when she decides to swing an arm around your waist because subconsciously she tightens her grip once she falls asleep and since she has a very superior strength to the average human, you won't get up anytime soon unless you wake her up. She normally is able to sleep quite well but when she's stressed she experiences troubles falling asleep or tends to wake up multiple times at night. Normally she acts all tough and rarely talks to you about her own worries but if you ever witness her having an erratic sleep at night, you always know that there's something that is stressing her out.
Ryomen Sukuna
🗾His darling is screwed no matter how you might look at it, especially if they're only a human. Because this man has made it very apparent that he doesn't care for anyone or anything and even you won't be an exception for this. Sukuna has always been a man who takes what he wants and that applies for you just as much. You're an object of his affection and greedy desire, by all means he sees you as his valued possession more than he sees you as a person with feelings and rights. So you can't expect any sympathy from him after your abduction and you'd do your best to not get on his nerves because he can hurt you and he will do so if he feels like it. Sukuna only does what he wants and the only thing you can really do is take it silently in hopes of not angering him but he'd find it cute if you would always show a little bit of fear around him.
🗾I'm not even sure if he needs any sleep anymore since his times as a human are long over although he has kept his memories from that time so he still remembers that humans need sleep. Although what you need doesn't have to mean by a long shot that he'll just give it to you freely. In fact I totally see him terrorizing your sleep sometimes for the shallow reason of his own sadistic amusement. Other times he only allows you to fall asleep if you let him join you in bed and he'll keep you otherwise awake nights on end until you're too tired to care anymore. You're incredibly dumb for letting him so close to you in your most vulnerable state and the times that he has considered abusing that vulnerability are numerous. Honestly, he's being the ultimate creep by just watching you sleep the entire time, hands roaming over your body to feel what is his but if he's feeling rather relaxed and mellow, he sometimes just buries his face in your neck, closes his eyes and enjoys your scent, your warmth, your heartbeat.
Gojo Satoru
🩵Best of luck with Gojo after an abduction, better say goodbye to your privacy and personal boundaries because Gojo? He just doesn't give a single fuck about any of those. No, somehow he grows even more overbearing after you're permanently stuck in the probably biggest house that you've ever been in. Partially just because he feels like he has now his dream of living a peaceful and domestic life with his sweet lover without any stress from higher-ups or anyone objecting to this relationship. Now he can just love you and keep you for himself. It's a very strange and questionable way of fulfilling his dream but he is at a point in his life where he has given up to feel guilty and doesn't care anymore. He's always been the strongest to satisfy his own clan and the higher-ups of the sorcerer world so he deserves someone for himself. Someone for him and him only.
🩵He's a clingy monster and you should already know this as he has barely kept his hands to himself during the entire time since you've known him and that has only grown worse the stronger his obsession got. There is no question, you are going to sleep with him in one bed from the moment you are imprisoned in your new home with him. He isn't even listening to your protests and complains and you'd better not provoke him unless you want to see him dropping his light-hearted facade. Seeing him asleep disturbs you but not because of his clingy behavior and tight hug he always gives you nor his surprisingly deep sleep but because he looks so terribly vulnerable. White hair covering his eyes, soft breaths escaping his lips and no teasing expression adorning his face. It's even worse when he initially wakes up and blue and sleepy eyes stare at you as he whispers, no, pleads you to never leave him. It breaks your heart a little.
Geto Suguru
🗻Suguru has broken your trust severely when you realize what he has been doing all along, abusing your trust and ignorance to his own advantage until you made him your most trusted person and told him all of your thoughts. Now you're here, imprisoned and surrounded by jujutsu sorcerers who share his views. You're a lesser being in here for being a non-sorcerer and you know that secretly most of the people here look down on you but only show some level of respect because you're Geto's precious love or whatever he's feeling for you. No one tells you what's really going on but you are smart enough to understand that those people possess very special powers and that something is always watching you even when you're all by yourself. So you never misbehave, aware what would happen otherwise.
🗻He isn't over the fact that he's fallen in love with what he hates the most even after an abduction so you are sleeping elsewhere. A tiny room with a futon as if to rub your lesser position in your face but truth be told, he's doing this mainly because he secretly wants your warmth next to him at night. He's just trying to reject his desires as he doesn't want to fall too deeply into his infatuation but it's already too late to turn back and perhaps you're more surprised than anyone when one day he tells you you'll share a bed with him from now on. You even vocalize your confusion but shut up when he throws you a sharp glare, silencing you as he himself doesn't want to answer your question. Vocalizing his needs would only make it harder to brush off as something less after all. Geto doesn't want to show too much affection but subconsciously he always fails as his half-awake form always pulls you closer to his body, always desires to feel your warm body safely held against his own as his long hair tickles your neck and face.
Nanami Kento
💛Here we have a man who is trying to be his most respectful to you after an abduction that he has been planning for a longer time now after a triggering accident, most likely something regarding his very protective feelings. He isn't scolding you for being scared and even lets you insult him all you want with a frightening calm expression on his face, only really stopping you if you try to escape, hurt him or yourself in which case you see his face flashing in anger and slight frustration as you realize how scary he can be if he chooses to be. He gives you space as much as he can but even then his presence is felt throughout your entire new life as you realize that Nanami apparently enjoys taking care of you to the point where he's being controlling with it. There's a certain schedule to your life now, one that he has prepared specifically for you.
💛This even includes your bedtime as you have to be at a certain hour in bed and get enough sleep and have to get up at a certain time in the morning. Nanami isn't forcing you to share a bed with him though as he graciously prepares another room for you to stay and sleep in. So it's a decision based on consens after your abduction to sleep with him and he's another case of showing his emotions in a very controlled way whilst being deep down just relieved that the worst phrase of the abduction seems to be over now. His sleeping schedule is just as meticulous though so both of you go to the bed at the same time and stand up in the morning at the same time. Nanami is also another candidate who needs a bit longer until he falls asleep because he's also thinking a lot when he lies in bed and only silence surrounds him. He has always an arm wrapped around you but the grip isn't too tight for you to not be able to free yourself if you should ever feel the need to visit the toilet. He is a bit more of a sensitive sleeper though so try to be quiet if you don't want to wake him up.
#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#yandere itadori#yandere itadori yuji#yandere megumi#yandere fushiguro megumi#yandere maki#yandere zenin maki#yandere sukuna#yandere ryomen sukuna#yandere gojo#yandere gojo satoru#yandere geto#yandere geto suguru#yandere nanami#yandere nanami kento
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hai omg can you do alastor reacting to the person he's courting giving him flowers instead of the other way around
Alastor reacting to you giving him flowers.
warnings: gn!reader. romantic scenario. might be ooc. sorry about that.
A/N: I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IDEA. At first, I wanted to write something like him just getting flattered by it? but I think he would be more upset and disappointed that he wasn't the one who was giving you flowers. after all, "he's a gentleman and should spoil his beloved with that kind of gifts every time he got the chance to." (that's what he thinks, at least). Hope you can enjoy it anon! ;; thanks for your request. ♡
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. feel free to correct me as long as you're polite about it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝅭ㅤ𝅭ㅤ⎯⎯ㅤㅤִㅤㅤ୨ ♡ ୧ㅤㅤִ ⎯⎯ ㅤ𝅭ㅤ𝅭
February 14th. a date everyone knew the meaning of. a date where everyone did their best to show off to their loved ones, to spoil them or even fall into the deepest of the lustful desires.
however, for the radio demon it was a pretty irrelevant date. he didn't really saw the meaning of it, and therefore, he didn't get as excited as other people did, and it wasn't exactly because he didn't got gifts or attention during it, in fact he did get lots of gift, specially from people of the cannibal town (who seemed to like him quite a lot). however, all those gift were meaningless to him, and he even hate most of them, since they're usually some kind of sweets, and he isn't really a fan of them, so they ended up in the trash or someone else's hands. he just didn't cared about it, nor the people who gave it to him.
nevertheless, this time it was a little different. he had someone in mind he wanted to give a gift to, and since a few weeks ago that thought has been running around his mind. but being quite unused to being on the giving end on this dates, he was conflicted on what to get to his special someone. flowers? he already got them flowers before, a lot of times and a lot of different types and colors. chocolates? he couldn't even stand the sweet smell of them. other kind of desserts had the same effect. and just like that, he keep discarding ideas that wasn't good enough for him. he wanted to blow you mind, he couldn't just do the simplest things!
soon enough, he asked for advice to the best person: Rosie, who, after giving some other ideas that were also discarded, ended up suggesting that he invited you to have dinner together, but instead of going out to a fancy restaurant, both of you just stayed at the hotel and HE cooked the most mind blowing meal himself. that way not only was he able to show off his cooking skills, but he also was able to make sure that everything was perfect. to the decoration, to the lighting, to the ambience music, to the flavors. he was simply in control of everything. he agreed to this, he thought it was a perfect idea!
so the next day, he went to ask Charlie for help at having a space for you and him alone. she agreed excitedly, of course, and promised him that absolutely no one was going to interrupt their perfect date. so, with her help, he got the kitchen, dining room, and a balcony all for himself.
when the day itself arrived, he immediately started decorating the dining room and balcony, with just a little magic it was a quick process. the table had a pretty dark red tablecloth, in the middle of it were some light up candles. it was just what you expect to see at a table on a romantic dinner really, kind of the cliché stuff. the balcony, however, had some lights wrapped around the railing, you could find some flower petals from the table leading the way to the entrance of the balcony. he wanted it to be the most unforgivable night of your life! that way, even if you ever (tried to because hes not letting thay happen) leave him, you would remember him whenever this date came around.
he also cooked some fancy dishes, some simpler meals that he knew you liked, and Rosie got him some sweets (against his will) that she knew you would love. everything was made for you to love.
soon enough, the time for the date came around, and you showed up. as you were standing before him, he tilted his head, confused as to why you kept you arms behind your back.
— Darling, are you perhaps hiding something from me?
he asked as you giggled. then, you pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind you back and extended it to him, holding it with both hands as you said "happy valentine's day!" excitedly. he looked at you in shock. you got him flowers. and he didn't. you prepared such a beautiful bouquet for him, and he didn't? he felt disappointed in himself for not getting you something as basic as a bouquet of flowers. how could he not get something like that for you? how could he even think of not getting such a beautiful gift to you? he could have made it the best and biggest bouquet ever and he didn't! how could he-
— Hey, Al? Are you ok?
he came back to his senses when you spoke to him. he looked at your worried expression and just chuckled.
— You just took me by surprise, my dear! I wasn't expecting to get such a beautiful and heartfelt gift from you. I am truly flattered by such a cute gesture!
— You're sure? You seem a little... down.
— Well, I am a bit disappointed in myself. After all, such a beautiful person gave me such beautiful flowers, but I didn't get them flowers! How could a gentlemen forget to bring flowers to his date? For shame.
he replied in a joking tone, making you laugh. your laugh was absolutely worth everything to him, he adored it and he loved seeing you so happy.
— Don't worry silly! you already planned all this, didn't you? that's more than enough for me.
after you were done talking he extended his hand to you, taking the bouquet in his other hand as he lead your way to the table. he wanted that night to be something that you wouldn't forget, but he didn't planned for it to be a night that he also wouldn't forget because of a little surprise. not that he was complaining though.
#🩻✦🍎˖ ،،̲ request...#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x oc#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x oc#alastor x y/n
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A Study of Silence
Summary: Your life of married bliss is failing. A moment of heated arguing finally reveals the reason Natasha is pulling away from you, so you offer her the choice: stay or leave?
Word Count: 862
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Warning: Angst
A/N: I wrote this at 1am when my flatmates set the fire alarm off, so forgive any mistakes lol. It's loosely based on 'Fluorescent Adolescent' by the Arctic Monkeys.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Silence. Then the occasional turning of a page. In your mind, there are three types of silences: a comfortable silence, a suspenseful silence, and an awkward silence.
This fell firmly into the third category, but you made no move to change it - wondering instead how and when such an activity – sitting silently in your wife's presence – had turned from comfortable to awkward.
It hadn't happened just in this session: that was doomed to awkwardness from its start - but a month ago? a year ago? It was hard to recall a single moment of comfortable bliss outside of the early days of your relationship.
Everything had seemed so bright: an Avenger falling for a simple mechanic, a match made only in your dreams… though sometimes you wondered if it should ever have gone beyond that. She'd promised to quit her job for you, retire herself to deskwork upon marriage. "I want to do it," she had promised, "my love for you overshadows any job I do, and if this means I'm not spending months away from you and you're not spending months worrying, then it's an easy decision."
You swore your life to her then, showed her your love and your devotion. That love never faded. But where did it go wrong?
"My love?" you said. The redhead didn't look up from her book; you tried to see what it was, but she maintained her senses enough to shield that from your sights. With a sigh, you continued into the silence, "I was thinking maybe we could cook together tonight?"
She looked up now, fingers sightlessly marking the page. "Again? Didn't we do that..." she trailed off, searching for a memory, a recent excuse.
You finish her sentence for her: "last month? Yeah. I thought we could maybe do some bonding this month too, but nevermind."
"Y/N, we can-"
"You're clearly not interested, Nat, I'm not going to force you, so go hang out with your old Avengers buddies again and I'll make dinner alone."
There was a bite to your words that you knew you'd later regret, but in the moment you couldn't bring yourself to care. Fighting had become the only sure fire way to end the stagnant silences, and these days, neither you nor Natasha were afraid to use the method.
"You always do this," Natasha seethed, "they're my friends. I used to spend my every moment with them, living together, working together, everything! And I gave that up for you! You want me to give up even seeing them too? Would that finally be enough?!"
The silence fell again. A fourth type: one of contemplating, one of heated feelings and unwitting confessions and, finally, understanding. You understood. In her anger, Natasha had revealed the secret to it all, where it had all gone wrong.
You softened your voice, speaking quietly as if your wife were an injured animal, easy to startle. "I didn't make you give that up. I don't want you to give up more and I don't want you to blame me for your choices."
She stayed silent, though her jaw tightened and her eyes focused on a point behind you. You didn't have to turn to remember which picture lies there.
"I love you, Natasha," you confessed again, knowing it could be a last confession. "I love you and I want only the best for you. And if you miss the superhero days, the risk, the team, everything... if leaving that and marrying me is the mistake that's making you miserable, then I'm giving you the chance to undo that mistake. I don't want to be the reason you live your life in nostalgia and regret."
You didn't wait for her to respond, what was the point? Her gaze was still fixed on the picture behind you: the team in its heyday, when they were still young and wild and disorganised. She clang to until she got sentimental, forgetting that you had been the one to take the photo, right before Natasha became the first of the group to settle down.
Her response would come soon enough, you knew, so you went to your room and waited. You hoped for the eventual knock on the door, the long awaited conversation, then either the forgiveness or the conclusion. You hoped all through the evening, even as you cooked by yourself, ate by yourself, and slept by yourself.
A night with the Avengers might have been what she needed to make her decision.
Natasha Romanoff came into your life with a burning passion and a humanity to her that few people could ever achieve. You expected it to last forever, but come morning you realised the truth: Natasha Romanoff was a spy born and raised, and no amount of humanity can ever erase that from her.
Her ring was on your bedside table in the morning, the house left in a state of suspended silence. Natasha herself was nowhere to be found, disappearing like a spy, with no words spoken on the matter.
She had made her choice, just as you had made yours.
You loved Natasha too much to keep her; she loved you too little to stay.
»»————- ★ ————-««
taglist: @canvascoloredin
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#reader insert#fanfiction#self insert fanfiction#ikan writes
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Cheating Dilf Izuku END
Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
Warning: Angst
[PART 3] [Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist]
You hated hospitals.
You sat in the waiting room, your own minor injuries attended to long ago as you sat beside Momo. Horikoshi Hero Hospital had seen enough of you and you doubted this would be the last time you saw it. You could barely keep it together as you prayed and prayed. You were shaking like a leaf in fear.
Toshinori, you and Kane had just made it out when the building collapsed. It was terrifying because you had no idea what had happened to Izuku but you had to get the kids to safety and to a healer as quickly as possible. Reinforcements and first responders arrived quickly on the scene and luckily with a healing quirk, getting Kane’s concussion healed was easy but Toshinori had to be taken to the hospital. Once you had the boys safely in the arms of paramedics, you had run back with cuts and bruises from the collapse, to where you last saw Izuku.
You couldn’t watch the TV as your legs bounced up and down. A video of you pulling at rubble trying to find your husband under it all played. With your direction, they had managed to find him alive thankfully but you were forced into an ambulance to get checked out.
With Jigsaw found and pronounced dead on the scene, your husband was claimed a hero.
However, he was fighting for his life in theatre.
Tenya sat with you, Momo and Shoto. Mina and Hanta were looking after the boys along with your mother-in-law, allowing you to wait here till your husband woke up. Toshinori was asleep in the paediatric wing, his arm being in a cast and he would be allowed to go home tomorrow. You felt like you could barely breathe as you sat there waiting. It had been longer than ten hours and you were just hoping that maybe, maybe by some miracle, Izuku was still alive.
You hated what he did to you, you hated that he cheated and he didn’t talk to you. But you were far more afraid of losing the one man who had loved you more than himself, more than anything. You needed him a lot more than you cared to admit and the thought of losing him made you sick to your stomach.
You loved Midoriya Izuku and if he died, you were going to kill him.
“Mrs Midoriya.” At the sound of your name, you looked up as the leading surgeon of the hospital walked over to you.
You stood up from where you sat, looking to him for answers and so did your friends. You looked to him as you held your hands to your chest. “Is… Is he…” You couldn’t get it out, in fear that your hope would be false placed.
He nodded his head. “He’s alive, Mrs Midoriya.”
You let out a relieved sigh as you nearly stumbled back. Shoto and Tenya held you up right, making sure you wouldn’t fall. A tear left your eye as you nodded your head, indicating that you were fine, as you lifted up your head to look back up at the doctor. You motioned for him to continue which he did.
“Your husband’s a fight Mrs Midoriya. He was very lucky that there was little internal bleeding and most internal organs were not injured nor punctured in the collapse. However…” He hesitated as he looked to your friends.
You instantly could tell that this might be a sensitive matter so you looked to Tenya. He nodded his head as you stepped away from them to walk a bit of a distance with the doctor. “Yes?” You asked softly.
He looked at you sympathetically as he led you towards your husband’s hospital room. “When the first responders had found him in the area you had indicated, they had found that a considerate amount of rubble had fallen on his legs. We tried our best and although we managed to save them we later found out a spinal injury that, well…” He hesitated and you knew what that meant. Your face fell at the implications. “Unfortunately, Mrs Midoriya, your husband is paralysed from the waist down.”
You were speechless at what was said to you.
Paralysed? As in-
“So he’ll never…” You found this hard to say too.
The doctor nodded his head. “He won’t ever walk again.” He confirmed your suspicions, making you still. “The hero commission has offered that we do stem cell treatments to try and rectify what has happened. It would take a while but previous treatments and trials have a sixty percent success rate in succeeding and giving him a chance at walking again.” You swallowed down hard as you followed the doctor, knowing that that would be the best course of action, however you knew how much being a hero meant to Izuku. “The technology and science of it all is still new and it does not work on everyone but the hero commission has high hopes it will work for him. We just need the go ahead from you and we can start. The sooner the better.” Finally, you both stopped in front of a door. You hesitated and motioned to it. He nodded his head. “You can sit with him. The anaesthesia should be wearing off but it’s still not sure whether or whether not he would wake up.”
You nodded as you put your hand on the door handle and walked in, closing the door behind you. The room was dark despite the dim lights as you walked in. The beeping of the machines unnerved you as you walked closer towards him. You had gotten used to it and you hated that fact. It always reminded you of those moments where Izuku would have some close calls but he always tried to minimise those ever since you started your family.
You finally got to the side of his bed where he was. Izuku lay there sleeping, most cuts and bruises healed by a healing quirk and for the most part he looked fine, besides a bandaged arm, the IVs connected to him and the oxygen mask. However, as your eyes went down you had to bite back a sob. Of course, you couldn’t see the scars over the blanket but just knowing that he would most likely never move his legs again, made you have to cover your mouth.
You shakily sat down at his side, the seat beside him that was positioned just for you. You were glad that the Horikoshi Hero Hospital was the only hospital in Japan that allowed twenty-four hour visitation for family, which meant you didn’t have to leave his side.
You were scared to take his scarred hand.
He had taken this sacrifice for you. He had done this for you and your boys, so that you wouldn’t have to live in fear of Jigsaw escaping again or for another sacrifice to be made. He had basically sent himself as a martyr to die for you, when he knew you hated him for what he did. When he knew that you would barely even let him touch you in private, let alone acknowledge anything he did.
You bit back your sobs as your head fell. He was trying so hard with the boys. He tried so hard. He took time off and stayed all day with Koda and took the boys to school and picked them up. He gave you time to breathe. He would gift you flowers every day, do the laundry, take the boys out for ice-cream after school. He was trying so hard, and you shut him down at every turn.
You were just… you were so angry with him. You loved him so much but you were so disappointed and he knew that.
Yet he didn’t stop.
He respected everything you said and did. He blocked Ochaco’s number and went to a therapist every week. He slept on a futon in your bedroom instead of on the bed because you weren’t comfortable with him there. He always tried to speak to you about things that were insignificant despite you shutting down every conversation that wasn’t about the boys or the house.
He was trying.
And you hated that you loved him.
And now you hated that you hated him despite loving him all the same.
“Izuku…” You let out quietly as you kept your head down as you grasped his hand in yours. “You’re so fucking stupid.” You let out tightening your hold on him in anger. “How could you sacrifice yourself like that? And leave me all alone? I can’t-” You felt yourself choke up. “I can’t raise the boys without you. I could never do that. I’m not as strong as you think I am. Did you think I would be alright because you thought I hated you?” You asked gently.
You felt a sob vibrate out of you as you rested your head on the bed. You sniffed as you tried to pull yourself together but you couldn’t. You cried. You sobbed and you shook your head. You brought his hand to your face. He always loved to hold your face, to hold your head, to touch your neck. To feel you. You wanted Izuku to feel you. You wanted him to hold you.
You wanted your husband.
“I don’t!” You confessed. “I don’t hate you! I was so disappointed that I wasn’t enough for you! But I couldn’t bring myself to leave you. I love you. Just… just please…” You sobbed as you held onto his hand as the quiet beeping of his heart rate monitor went off in the room.
…
“Am I in heaven?” The voice took you by surprise as you stiffened and looked up from where you were sitting. Izuku was looking at you with a tired expression, his green eyes were gentle and soft as he looked up at you. “Or is there an angel sitting next to me?” He asked with a smile.
You paused as you took in what he had just said. You couldn’t help but laugh as you dropped your head shaking it. “That was horrible.” You laughed.
“Too much, my love?” He asked tiredly. It took him only a second before he realised. “Shit- sorry I mean-”
“No, It’s okay.” You tightened your hold on his hand as you smiled at him. “It isn’t too much.” You hesitated to ask. “Did you hear everything?”
He hesitated. He shook his head. “No, not at all.” He denied, clearly lying to you.
You closed your eyes in embarrassment. “You heard everything didn’t you?”
“Every word. To be fair, you aren’t a very quiet crier.” He confessed making you groan. He chuckled as he lay looking at you, his eyes never leaving your face. You felt him move his fingers over your knuckles. “I’m glad you’re here.” He spoke softly. “I didn’t think…” He let out a soft scoff. “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d live to see you again, nevertheless to you sitting by my side.”
You fought a smile to your face as you shrugged. You wanted to say so much to him but with him looking at you, you found it hard to do so. “We still need to go to Okinawa, remember?” You spoke softly.
You watched as his eyes widened with a light in them. A grateful and relieved smile on his face. “Really?” He asked with a whisper. “Do… do you mean it?” He asked.
You nodded with a chuckle. “Yes.”
He leaned back against his pillow closing his eyes with a smile on his handsome face. “I’m so glad.” He whispered. He lay there for a moment before turning back to you. “So hit me with it, what bones did I break this time?” He asked with a humerous smile.
You did not smile.
Instantly he noticed that you weren’t smiling. You hesitated as you looked down away from him. You weren’t sure how you were going to tell him this nor what you were going to say. You looked to him with a broken expression. You carefully stood up and adjusted his hospital bed so that it could incline so he could sit up a bit.
Izuku gave you a weird look. “Y/N, what’s this about?” He asked with a chuckle. “I’ve heard it all, okay. You don’t have to-” He stopped talking for a moment. He let out a soft scoff before looking down again. “I… Why can’t I feel my legs?” He asked as he looked to you. You didn’t say anything as you just stared at him. Izuku froze for a second before looking back down at his legs. “Y/N… Y/N I’m serious. I- I can’t-”
“You injured your spinal cord.” You whispered, finally answering him. However, that was all he needed to know the severity of his injury.
It was deathly silent for that moment despite the sound of the machines.
Suddenly you noticed that his hand was shaking. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. His eyes wide as he looked at you but then he looked back down at his legs. Suddenly you noticed the rapid sounds of his heart rate monitor and breathing rate.
“Izuku, Izuku you have to calm down.” You told him as you held his hand tighter and moved to hug him.
However, his heartrate didn’t calm down and only started to climb.
He shook his head as tears started to fall from his eyes. He bit back cries as he held onto you with hands, gripping onto hard as he tried not to fall into shock.
“Is everything alright!?” Running in were two nurses.
“He’s awake!” You shouted at them. “Call the doctor.” Immediately one of them ran out while the other one ran off somewhere. “Izuku, breathe for me. Just breathe.” You told him as you held him, putting a hand to his face. “I’m here. I’m right here, my love. Just breathe.”
The other nurse came back and stuck a needle in a bottle he brought. He took a quick measurement before moving to your husband’s IV and sticking the needle in. “Give him a minute, he’ll calm down in a bit. It’s okay Mr Midoriya, everything is going to be fine.” The nurse said as he placed down the needle and moved to grab another blanket.
It did indeed only take a minute before you noticed his heartrate start to gradually start to subside. His grip on you eased as he lay back but you held onto him. You saw the tears that left his eyes but never heard a cry. He looked at you with a broken expression.
Your shoulders sagged. “Izuku, I’m so sorry. You won’t be able to still be a he-”
“I won’t be able to dance with you.” You looked down at him confused as to why he said that. Izuku looked at you with a sad expression. He blinked as more tears fell. “How… how can I play outside with the boys? Or train Toshinori?”
You just looked at your husband confused. Why was he thinking about you and the boys when his career that he had spent close to three decades cultivating, would be over.
“Don’t worry Mr Midoriya.” You turned around to see the doctor who had just entered your husband’s hospital room. “With enough physical therapy, you’ll be able to walk and move no problem. We just need your consent on something…”
After explaining everything that had happened, his injury in the T12 area of his spine and certain adjustments needed to his life, Izuku seemed pretty quiet but he understood and thanked the doctor for everything he had done to ensuring he lived. It was a tough first few hours. Izuku had nerve pains as well as discomfort and whenever he did manage to fall asleep he’d wake up in a panic due to not being able to feel his legs anymore.
Unfortunately, they had to give him sedatives so that he could sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. In that time you managed to go home and get a shower as well as pack some of Izuku’s comfortable clothes and items before going to see the boys, picking them up to come to the hospital. You had left them in the waiting room for a moment with Inko, making sure Izuku was alright with seeing them right now before letting them in.
“So dad will need a wheelchair? THAT’S SO COOL!” Hero let out loudly as he looked up at his father.
Asahi adjusted his glasses with a disappointed sigh. “Not really. Dad’s still normal, he just can’t use his legs right now.”
“So… he can’t climb the stairs anymore?” Hero blinked before his green eyes widened as he looked at his father excitedly. “DAD! Can we get an elevator in our house?”
Izuku leaned back with a chuckle against a pillow as he looked down at his boys that surrounded him. He was glad that the boys seemed to be taking this well, surely better than he did. “If mom says yes.” He stated optimistically.
You let out a chuckle as you shook your head. “If we did, then only dad can use it. Not you.”
“Aww. What?”
Asahi turned to his younger brother offended on his father’s behalf. “Dad’s the one who’s paralysed not you!” He reminded his younger brother.
Koda sat next to him on the bed, holding the little bunny teddy bear, staying cosied up to his dad with a frown. He looked up at him. “You okay, daddy?” He asked softly.
Izuku let out a soft laugh and ruffled his green hair. “I’m fine buddy. I’ll be alright.” You could tell that he was forcing out everything he was saying to make the kids feel better. “I just need some practice walking again and I’ll be back in shape in no time.” He gave one of his ProHero smiles that made others feel at ease.
Inko looked to her son with a sympathetic expression but nodded her head. “Alright boys, we should let your father get some rest. He needs it.”
“Aww.” Hero frowned with a pout as he was herded out the room. “But he’s spent the whole day asleep.”
“No. He was in surgery.” Asahi reminded him.
“Same thing.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. But surprising you was the door being thrown open not even a minute after they left as your eldest son, Toshinori was at the door. His good arm opened the door as he stood there in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his arm still in its cast.
His eyes were wide as they locked onto his father. “Dad…” He let out quietly. Seeing his father awake and alive had his breath choking in his throat. Before a stuttered breath came out of his throat and soft sobs as his eyes filled with fat Midoriya tears. “DAD!” Toshinori practically flew into his father’s arms as he wrapped his arm around him. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop him! I thought you were dead a-and I- I can’t be as strong and as brave as you! I thought- I thought-!” He let out half angry but half sad.
Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise, but his expression softened. He put a hand on top of Toshinori’s head of curly green hair with a chuckle. “Toshinori…” At the sound of his name, your eldest son looked up at Izuku who for the first time since getting told the news, held a genuine smile on his face. “My perfect sprout, I’m proud of you.” You watched Toshinori’s pupils shrink before expanding as he bit down on his lip trying to stop himself from crying. “You did your best and you held your own for as long as you could. You’re stronger than me, when I was your age I couldn’t even control One for All, let alone make sure I didn’t break my entire body using it. You are so much more braver and stronger than you think. I’m so proud to call you my son.”
You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Toshinori sob in his father’s arms, his arms around Izuku as he took in everything his father said. You couldn’t help but notice the tears in Izuku’s eyes at the interaction. You knew that somewhere deep inside this helped Izuku’s inner boy too.
It took a month before Izuku was released from hospital, but in that time your husband had been pretty… quiet to say the least. He barely spoke to you and according to the nurses and his new physiotherapist, he barely spoke at all to them either. But after so many tests and therapy sessions were done, the doctors finally cleared him to go home and had told you of all the physiotherapy appointments and everything that would be a new adjustment in his life.
The first thing Izuku noticed when you had wheeled him into your home was the few changes as he went by. His eyes widened at the sight of the biggest change so far. “You… got…”
“AN ELEVATOR!” Hero cheered as he motioned to the glass elevator that went up to the second floor of your home. “Mom said yes.”
Izuku turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged. “It seemed like a good choice.” You told him honestly. You turned to Toshinori and gave him a slight look.
Toshinori instantly understood the look and gave a curt nod, his arm fully healed from the healing quirks and after resting it from the surgery. “Hey guys, lets go play Just Dance!”
“OH YAH!”
“That would be fun!”
Toshinori carefully took Koda by the hand and led the four year old away from you and his father so that you could both talk. You turned forward but Izuku was already pushing himself into the elevator. You stepped inside with him, allowing the both of you inside. It was silent amongst the both of you. Neither one of you saying anything.
Finally the elevator door opened allowing Izuku to adjust himself in the wheelchair but allowed you to push him out onto the second floor. He didn’t object to where you were taking him. You took him to your bedroom, allowing him to see all the adjustments you had made. You let go of the handles of his wheel chair allowing him to venture on by himself. He pushed forward as he looked around. For one thing, he noticed that the bed was lower to the ground. He also noticed something on the wall.
He wheeled himself closer to it. His eyebrows furrowed. He motioned towards it. “What’s this?” He asked softly.
“It’s an intercom.” You stated as you walked over to it. You motioned to all the buttons. “There’s one that leads to every boys room as well as to downstairs. Just in case. It’s easier than shouting if we need them or if they need us. I’m hoping I won’t regret this decision.” You stated with a nod of your head.
Izuku let out a soft scoff but wheeled himself away from the wall and headed straight towards the bathroom. He noticed all the new additions that made your bathroom wheelchair accessible. He looked around at it all.
“What do you think?” You asked as you stood in the middle of the room.
Izuku was silent as he looked around the room before turning to look at you. He turned to face you. “Y/N…” He looked around, speechless for a moment before his eyes settled back on you. He seemed a bit uncomfortable but he forced a smile to his face. “I think this is a bit too much. You didn’t have to do this, really.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “But I did.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Izuku-”
“I appreciate this, I really do.” He told you, closing his eyes briefly. “But I don’t deserve this. Really, just… you didn’t have to change your room like this.”
“Our room.”
He shook his head with a chuckle. “No, your room.”
You let out a sigh as you closed your eyes for a moment before opening it. “Izuku, I am not going to watch you sleep in another room or on the floor.”
“Y/N you shouldn’t be doing this. This!” He motioned down to his legs with an angry expression. “This doesn’t change anything! You shouldn’t be doing this, any of this!” He motioned around the room with a wide gesture of his hands. “The last thing I want to do, is subject you to this too!”
You let out a scoff. “Subject me to what, Izuku!”
“To a life like this!”
“Like what!”
“Y/N!”
“Izuku, this is exactly what separated us last time.” You took a step closer to him, your eyebrows furrowed as you frowned down at him. “I need you to communicate with me, to talk to me! What is so bad about this!”
“Y/N, I won’t have you spend the rest of your life like this! You deserve better!” He shouted back at you, eyes torn in agony as he stared up at you. “I broke my vows.” He put his hand to his chest, his left hand gleaming with the wedding ring you had gotten him. “I broke my vow to you to respect you and stay loyal to you! I promised you, when we got married, that I would be a man worthy of your love and devotion! Of your respect and submission. I promised you that and I broke it!” You froze were you stood as you saw tears well up in his beautiful green eyes, his eyes filled with so much pain. “I promised myself that I’d spend the rest of my life trying to rectify that, just to earn a sliver of your love and trust again, but look at me!” He let out with a pathetic laugh as he motioned to himself. “I’m half a man!”
You shook your head as you took a step closer to him. “Izuku…” You let out quietly.
“Y/N, I can’t-” His voice cracked as he looked away from you, his face pink as he tried to control his emotions. “I can’t even stand by myself let alone do anything! I will not ruin your life any more than I already have. The last nine months have been an agony for me. I lost you, I lost the boys, I lost my legs, I lost my career, I lost our son…” He hung his head in front of you, his hands gripping the railing of the wheels as he looked down away from you. You could see him shiver with so much pent-up emotion within him. “I will not let you turn yourself into a caregiver and ruin the beautiful life I was supposed to give you, more than I already have.” He whispered.
You were silent as you looked down at Izuku. You couldn’t help but feel the tears burn at your eyes. You crouched down in front of Izuku, taking his hands from his side and into your own. You looked up at the beautiful man in front of you. You gave him a weak but genuine smile as you looked up at his face, fat Midoriya tears streaming out of his eyes.
You rubbed your thumbs over his scarred knuckles. “Izuku…” You started out softly. “You are the same man right now than you have ever been, if not more so.” You told him honestly. “I do not see you any less of a man just because you’re paralysed or need help. I made a vow to you on our wedding day to stand by you in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, in life and in death and I meant that. I have yet to break it and I don’t ever plan on doing so. I don’t care if I have to help you shower for the rest of our lives, Izuku.” You let out with a soft laugh and a bright smile. “I don’t care if you aren’t the Number One hero anymore. You sacrificed yourself for me and for our son. That is the strongest thing a man could ever do.”
Izuku closed his eyes, tears falling down his face as he bit down sobs, wielding himself to try and not break down in front of you. He didn’t deserve your words and yet he was getting them. He just wanted to disappear.
“Izuku, I am your wife… and you are my husband.” He opened his eyes to look at you. You reached up to cup the side of his face with a gentle smile. “You’ve gotta do a whole lot more if you want to get rid of me.” You joked. He let out a soft scoff as he put a hand to cover your own as he buried his face in your hands. His grip on you turned harsh as he cried and you reached up and hugged him. You held him as you tapped his back soothingly. “We’re going to do this together, Zuzu. Even if we got to take baby steps first. We’ll get there.”
“Announcing, his excellency, the Number One ProHero of Japan, ProHero Deku and his wife Mrs Midoriya.”
You pushed Izuku’s wheelchair onto stage, the both of you stepping into the limelight. You were dressed in your family’s colours of white, gold and green. Izuku was dressed in a matching coloured suit as you took him to the centre of the stage. There were claps given but honestly, both of you couldn’t hear it. You were sure Izuku couldn’t.
This would be the last time he would address people as the Number One ProHero of Japan, and as an actively serving hero. You parked his wheelchair before putting a hand to his shoulder. He looked up at you, a cleanly shaven face but age still present in the grey hairs and small wrinkles. You nodded your head. He smiled as he put a hand over your own briefly before accepting the microphone as you took a step back. You always did that when he had to make an address.
It would always be the Number One hero and his wife standing at his side.
Izuku drew in a stuttered breath as he already felt tears in his eyes. “Twenty years ago, I became the Number One Hero of this country, it has been a rank that I have carried with honour and one I do not take for granted. I never thought this would be how I retired, I was hoping to have a few more years on me before I would let my eldest son take over my agency. However, life doesn’t always go as planned. So it is with a heavy heart that I officially announce my immediate retirement from on duty hero work. I would like to thank Japan for allowing me the honour of being at your service. If I could stand and bow, I would. Thank you, deeply.” He bowed his head and at the waist, far more than he should have and you did the same.
However, you saw the applause he received and knew that everything he had ever done was worth it, even now.
After that, you stirred Izuku down onto the floor where he received a lot of best wishes and gratitude. All that he was worth. You could tell by the smile he adorned on his face, he was keeping everything together until he could go home. He was still finding it rough to be in a wheelchair but he had made great progress. He was hoping to stand for his speech but that just wasn’t a reality right now. But he was getting there, deservingly so.
“You know Izuku,” Kirishima started as he stood beside his wife, her stomach still swollen with the baby girl she was carrying. He kept a hand on her hip, as he kept a hand in his pocket as he talked to your husband. “If you ever considerate, you could definitely go and teach at UA. After retiring myself, I quite enjoy it for a bit before I joined the Hero Council.” Your eyebrows raised forgetting that option. Kirishima had been one of the first of you all to retire from active duty work. Being a hero wasn’t a long job, most retiring by the age of thirty five and at most fourty-five.
You looked down at Izuku who’s eyebrows raised in surprise as well. “Well, I never thought of it.” He let out as he raised a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “But the commission did offer to put me on the council. It seems like a big decision to make.”
“Indeed.” You turned at the sound of a voice. Approaching the four of you was Katsuki, dressed in an all black suit with orange elements but on his arm was Ochaco. Your husband was the first to scowl but you kept your kind diplomatic smile out of duty. Katsuki smirked down at your husband. “Enjoy your retirement Deku. You deserve it after all the long years of service.” It almost sounded harmless, if you didn’t know Katsuki as well as you did.
Izuku forced a smile to his face as he leaned back with a breath. “Enjoy being Number One Kacchan, took you so long to get there.” He acknowledged, nodding his head. “Only took me injuring my back for you to surpass me.”
“Well, our prayers are answered differently.” You had to do a double take at Katsuki and what he had just said before he continued to speak. “Y/N, I have to thank you.” You finally saw something genuine on Katsuki and that was a smile. “For saving Kane’s life. It means the world to me that you saved my only child.”
You saw Eijiro stiffen at that mention, keeping his mouth shut at that. His wife kept a hand on him, trying to keep him calm. You could imagine, after the both of them had been married for over a decade and had both Kane and Satomi, it must have been hard for Eijiro to hear that. Satomi wasn’t Katsuki’s biologically but they still got their kids together.
You smiled with a nod. “It’s the least I can do. I love Kane and I would do it again.”
“I know you would. It’s what makes you the perfect mother.” He stated softly, almost with a reminiscent look.
Suddenly there was a flash of light and Katsuki had doubled over with a grunt as he cupped his groin. “Oh my goodness, Kacchan are you okay?” You heard your husband say with a surprised face as he looked up at the blond. “I am so sorry, I didn’t see your pathetic excuse of a manhood there.” You and Eijiro’s new wife looked at each other in shock as your daw dropped. Izuku looked up at Katsuki sympathetically. “I was trying to call a waiter but you were in the way.”
Katsuki let out a low growl as he glared at Izuku, trying to stand up straight. “Why you son of a-”
“Are you cussing me out because I’m disabled and I made a mistake?” Izuku asked putting a hand to his chest with a faux shocked expression. “How horrible, honestly I-”
“Izuku.” Ochaco let out sickeningly sweet as she smiled down at your husband. Izuku’s eyes flicked to her before he let out a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. She stood in a black dress but wore emerald green earings on her ears. Shameless. “That was a great speech, you gave. I know you are technically on retirement but I still need help on that case and-”
“I’m sorry, Uravity but I can’t get past your earrings.” Izuku stated as he looked up at her with a frown. “They do not suit you at all. Did I gift them?”
She looked taken a back and shocked at his words. “Uh… no, but-”
“Good. Now can you all excuse me,” Izuku made a look to you and you smiled. “I still need to do my rounds before I leave. It is a school night.” He stated as he pushed himself back. You took the handles of Izuku’s wheelchair as you stirred him away, the both of you heading away from Katsuki and Ochaco, waving to Eijiro and his wife. Izuku shook his head with a tsk. “Thank goodness I can’t stand because if I could, I would have punched him straight through a pillar.” You couldn’t help but giggle. “Hey, Y/N.”
“Yes Izu?”
He looked up at you for a moment, pupils round as he did so. “You look divine.”
You couldn’t help but soften at the compliment. You felt heat brush up your neck. “Thank you.”
Although you were both still at baby steps…
It was a start you were willing to take.
THE END
-Glitch1d
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