#okay minor spoilers past this tag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roseykat · 6 months

Text

TITLE: Play Bite

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader

SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right

TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.

“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand.

It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around.

An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room.

“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.

Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink.

Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him.

“Your turn bub,” he continued.

You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”

“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”

Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.

You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled.

He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”

You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”

He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself.

“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks.

“Lie down?”

“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely.

You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves.

His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung.

Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.

Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed.

It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground.

“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.”

He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”

“W-Which side?” You ask.

“My left which is-“

“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”

Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”

Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”

“I can set a timer,” you announce.

He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender.

“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”

You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further.

You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out.

After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement.

At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…

“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”

“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head.

“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”

“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise.

“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?”

“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung.

“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.”

“Three and a half,” Jisung answers.

“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.

“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”

“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”

Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!”

You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.”

He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.

From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.

The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it.

“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside.

He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”

Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”

“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs.

“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.

“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.”

Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.”

“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out.

“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.

The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body.

Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting.

“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you.

Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?”

“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it.

Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare.

“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking.

“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight.

Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”

“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying.

You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?”

Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour.

Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled.

“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl.

“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.”

Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity.

“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”

“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”

He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face.

Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late.

Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?”

Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off.

“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process.

After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.

Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin.

“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off.

He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?”

Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…

“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.”

Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”

He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”

“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-

“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.”

It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that.

“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.

“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate.

Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”

An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.”

The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.

Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees.

An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit.

Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants.

“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning.

“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge.

It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun.

With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you.

“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”

“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”

“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.”

Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.

Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself.

You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…”

“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?

Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.”

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches.

As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps.

“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear.

The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again.

In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.

He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

There was no way.

I strictly forbid and do not permit anyone or any user to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr to any other social media platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #Hyunjin x Jisung

3K notes · View notes

turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

Misty Eyes ~ Part 4

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI.

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 5041

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: This new life feels like a dream, and you're finding it hard to believe. How could you be here, how could you be safe? How could you be wanted?

Author's Note: Heeyy, so I swear there's smut in here, but our misty eyed reader has trauma, so a little patience is required.

Thank you so much @pinejayy for this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death (unnamed character), Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Hair-Pulling, Birth Control, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there!), Forced Pregnancy (Implied/Intended), Sterilization (Implied/Intended), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Soft Trafalgar D. Water Law, Other Additional Tags To Be Added

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

“You’re such a–”

Law kissed his laugh into your mouth, and you couldn’t hold onto your outrage.

Instead, you held onto him.

Law.

He was alive. He was with you. He was kissing you.

One of his hands teased into the hair at the back of your neck, his thumb tracing along your cheek. You didn’t know what to reach for, your fingers clawing into his shirt while you went to pieces.

His kiss was somehow desperate and gentle. Deep and slow, with needy sounds shared between you. Writhing under the weight of his body, your eyes went misty from overwhelm. You wanted to pull him inside your chest, keeping him in the hole he’d carved, so you could feel this way forever.

“Are you okay,” he breathed, his thumb smoothing away the grateful tears.

“So good,” you laughed, the sweet smile he gave pulling a happy sob from your throat.

Law kissed along your temple, your cheek, following your jaw down as you gasped, your breath shuddering through you. He breathed along your skin, tracing the tip of his nose, then his lips over the crook of your neck before leaving gentle kisses, a deep hum vibrating through him.

Your skin was electric, shivers running through you as you arched your back. Breathy whines escaped you, crying out when he rasped your name.

You tugged at his shirt, moaning as you yanked it up to feel his skin. He pulled back from your struggle, and your breath caught when he stared down at you. His golden eyes were dark as he pulled his shirt off, your eyes fluttering back at the sight of his tattooed skin. His body caged you in before he tasted your lips again.

He was still pinning you, your thighs trapped beneath his weight.

But that gave you more access to pull at the buttons of his jeans, whining when he stopped your frantic fingers.

“Can I take my time with you,” Law asked, his husky voice making you shake. He brought your knuckles to his lips before he looked around, brows creasing at the sight of hate papering the walls. “There’s a couch in my quarters next door, do you–”

Your breathless “yes,” interrupted him, and he kissed you again before helping you up. He laughed at your pout when he pulled his shirt back on, before leading you by the hand.

“Aren’t you the captain? Can’t you do what you want,” you whispered behind him while he looked back and forth down the hallway.

He ignored you, pulling you toward the next room when he saw the coast was clear. You couldn’t help the giggles that escaped, echoing down the corridor. Your laughs only grew when he huffed, pressing you against the closed door when he got you inside.

“Do you remember sneaking into the storeroom to steal weapons?”

His scolding glare faltered, his lips quirking as you watched the memory form in his mind.

“Yeah, you got us caught,” he taunted, tracing his fingers along your hair, his eyes seeming to eat up every detail of your face. Including the indignant furrowing of your brows.

“I did not! It wasn’t my fault, I only tripped because Cora dropped his…”

It was subtle, but the slight grimace on Law’s face made you want to never speak again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t… I don’t think I know what really happened with you and–”

“It’s fine. I don’t wanna talk about it,” Law straightened, pulling back from you before adding, “not right now.”

How do I fuck up literally everything?

“Come on,” he tugged at your fingers with a small smile. His quarters were large, and you bit your lip at the sight of his bed, his covers ruffled from last night’s sleep. He gestured for you to join him on the couch, but you skirted around him.

“Oh my gods, are you kidding me?”

A large set of shelves lined the wall behind the couch, and you misted out of his grabbing hands to get a closer look.

Turning back to him with a laugh, your eyes wide with gleeful shock, you pointed at the displays.

“I haven’t seen these in ages!”

You reached into the shelf, picking up one of the early Sora comics from its display stand.

“Hey, careful,” Law cautioned, throwing his long legs over the back of the couch to take the thin book from your grasp.

“Really,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as he returned the book with care. You looked over the rest of the shelves, leaning in to examine the rows of coins he’d displayed between the comics.

“You’re such a fucking dork.”

“Hobbies are important for maintaining mental health,” he said blandly, not meeting your eyes as he looked over his collection.

“Whatever you say, nerd,” you laughed, touching his waist to force him to look at you. “I think it’s cute.”

He scowled as you bounced on your toes, narrowing his eyes before giving in, pulling you into a kiss.

“Shut up.”

His soft command touched your lips, your laughter still humming through the kiss. Grinning, you curled your fingers into his black hair.

“Make me.”

Law huffed a laugh, your favorite smirk shining through before you squealed as he picked you up. He sat you on the back of the couch, legs scrambling around his waist. Your mind was empty of everything, but the need to feel more of him.

Until you slid backwards.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologized, gripping your arms before your back could hit the cushions with your head toward the floor. He helped you turn, moving your legs to the side so you laid across the long couch.

“Already trying to kill me?”

You couldn’t remember feeling this light, this free, as you did teasing him. As he crawled on top of you, the weight and scent of him making you sigh. The feel of his tongue trailing your neck before he nibbled at your ear, bringing another squeal while you shivered. The look in his eyes almost brought tears to your own.

I can’t believe he’s real.

“Not yet,” he purred, tracing his hand along your waist. He kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you until you couldn’t take it. You whined, fighting with his shirt until he grinned and pulled it off.

“Impatient–” he scolded, giving a surprised laugh when your hands reached the waistband of his jeans again. Law moved you gently so he could sit beside you, but you wasted no time in straddling him. You’d already tossed your shirt aside, fingers reaching for the clasp of your bra.

“Hey, hold on, Y/N,” he hummed, hugging you against him to slow you down. The sound of your heart somehow pounded in your head, even though it was trapped in the next room.

Law sat back, his warm hands stroking down your arms.

“You’re gorgeous,” he praised, eyes soft as he gazed at you. His head fell back, letting out a surprised moan when you rocked your body forward. The feel of his hard cock through all that fabric stunned you, and your body grinded onto his on instinct.

His whispered, “fuck,” was lost in a feverish kiss, and you managed to tear your bra off while his strong hands pulled your hips down further.

“Wait,” he muttered, voice almost pained. Pulling away, his eyes rolled back slightly at the sight of your bare chest. You had to bite your lip hard not to reach for him again.

“What is it?”

Worry had broken through your question, and you couldn’t fight the fears that crept in. Both of you panted for a few moments, lungs fighting for air after stealing it from each other’s lips.

He doesn’t want me. How could he want me after Doffy touched me?

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he checked in, smoothing the hair from your face. “We don’t need to rush anything.”

You knew his words should be comforting, but the hot pressure of tears built in your throat, your mind filling with the torment of words that you knew weren’t your own.

‘My disgusting little doll. So pretty. So sick. That’s the only thing you’re good for, huh? Such an empty little toy. Maybe one day you'll be worth more. Think you can carry the blood of kings in this weak body of yours?’

“Y/N? Y/N, you’re safe.”

Part of you heard his voice while your body stayed frozen, eyes stuck wide as your nails dug into his shoulders. Fighting to shake free, you mumbled what was meant to be an apology as your hands slumped onto your lap. The sticky weight of wet cement kept every thought and movement sluggish, and you barely reacted when Law pulled a thin blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping you up.

“Mmsrry,” you slurred, unsure how long you’d been frozen. He rubbed his hands lightly on your blanket covered arms, shaking his head.

“Don’t be. Just let me know what you need, okay? Can I get you some water?”

A jarring laugh fell from your lips, but you managed to nod. He sat you on the couch, fussing with the blanket to make sure you were comfortable and covered. Burning tears pricked your eyes as he went into an adjacent room. The sound of running water covered a strangled cry, but your eyes were dry when he returned with a glass.

Law sat on the coffee table, but stayed quiet, leaving your thoughts to berate you for putting him through this. Shame piled on you, until something in you cracked open, his gentle question opening the way.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You can do surgery,” you remembered, the words rough and empty.

“Yeah, I can,” he confirmed after a pause. Your body almost went slow again, but the urgency of terror pushed you, forcing you to reach for help.

“Can you, please… please, sterilize me?”

Your fragile voice strained high at the last words, and the rocking of your body sped up, your eyes clamping shut.

“Please, Law, I can’t–”

“I’m right here, Y/N. You can talk to me.”

Tears fell onto your thighs as you looked down. Nauseating guilt poured through you, a confession flooding from your lips like bile.

“I was selfish. I wasn’t ready. I’m too weak.”

Law argued softly, his hand on your shoulder doing nothing to stop the stream of ugly truths.

“I tricked… I made her help me,” you bawled, memories flowing in until you shook with shame. “Baby 5 still does everything. I took advantage of her. He would have hurt her, killed her! I’m disgusting, I’m sick. How could I–”

“Y/N, stop,” he commanded, shocking you into stillness. “You are not sick. You were a prisoner. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I–” you choked, blinking into his steady gaze, “Doffy said I’d finally prove myself if I… If I could carry a superior life in my body. If I could survive it tearing itself out of me.”

Your ragged breath caught in your lungs at the sight of Law’s towering rage, a barely contained snarl only dropping when he released the bruising grip he’d taken on your shoulder. You interrupted his apology, somehow feeling calmer after his display of anger.

“Baby 5’s compulsion has only gotten worse over the years,” you explained, detached from the story now as you followed Law’s orders. “I told her I needed her help, and she did it, even though she disagreed. Even though she would be punished if he found out.”

~🔪🔫🗡️~

“Shouldn’t you be asking the young master about this,” Baby 5 frowned, crossing her arms as she assessed you.

“Yes, but–”

“Are you keeping secrets from him,” she accused, one of her arms shifting into a sickle to hold against your throat, even though she knew it wouldn’t connect. “I knew you were weak, but I never thought you’d be a traitor.”

“Please, Baby 5,” you begged, hands misty as you held them toward her, “I need you. I need your help.”

“... You need me?”

~🔪🔫🗡️~

The gravity of what you’d done sank into you again, but his waiting gaze pushed you through, separating from the pain and shame behind your confession.

“I wasn’t ready. I never wanted to be ready. Especially for him. Even when I wanted to be his, I never wanted that. He promised I’d be rewarded, that I’d be worthy of the family. But I never wanted kids, and I knew that he… I knew I might not survive–”

Fear and bile caught up with you, leaning forward over your lap to hit your fists against your forehead.

“We’re safe here,” he reminded you, grabbing your wrists gently until you shuddered, sitting up again.

“I couldn’t go anywhere without him knowing. I wouldn’t be able to hide pills without someone finding them, and reporting me. Everyone…” you choked out, swallowing the humiliation that threatened to spill into the world, “everyone knew what I was. Everyone knew that the only thing I’m good for–”

“Stop saying that,” he seethed, his knuckles going white as his fists clenched in his lap. The rage in him relaxed your body, nodding before you went on.

“I made Baby 5 steal birth control shots for me, and she’d give them to me every three months. I put her life at risk, he would’ve… I’m so selfish.”

Your sins were revealed as the man before you shook beneath his skin. Watching the play of muscles flexing in his jaw was almost soothing.

“I have two months left of this shot,” you pleaded, head falling back against the couch. “Please do the surgery. Please.”

Law stared at you for too long. Your body went weak, slow tears dripping down your temples to your ears, and you were too spent to wipe them away.

I’ll never be safe. Doffy will find me. He’ll chain me up until I give him what he wants. I’ll birth another monster that will taste my blood on their lips before I’m free to die.

If Doffy doesn’t just torture and kill me as soon as he catches me.

“I can do it in a way that can be reversed,” he breathed, his words icing your veins, “but I don’t know another doctor that would know how to reverse it for you safely.”

“I don’t want it reversed,” you flew forward, clawing at his hands. “Just do it, please! If you can reverse it, you don’t have to believe me, but I swear it’s what I want.”

“... Can we think about it for a few days,” he coaxed.

Slow hit your system again.

Of course he wouldn’t do that. It’s all I’m good for.

“I’m not saying no.”

“Mhm,” you nodded, the embarrassment of this whole interaction making you want to sleep forever. “I’m sor–”

“Stop,” he rasped, his fingers in your hair as he cradled your face. “How can I help you feel better right now?”

Another manic laugh left your throat, and you cringed at yourself, fighting not to apologize again.

“Do you,” Law cleared his throat, a tentative smile tugging at his lips, “do you wanna read Sora with me?”

~🦩🦩🦩~

“Do you miss that little traitor?”

“N-no, Doffy, I just–”

He snatched the wanted poster from your grasp, sneering before ripping it in half, letting the pieces fall to the marble floor.

“It’s funny,” he huffed, pinching your cheeks between his long fingers, “you’ve been so loyal all these years, and that boy betrayed our family. But he’s the useful one.”

Holding in your cries at his punishing grip, you braced yourself for whatever came next.

It was a brutal kiss, and you fell into it, giving everything you were to your king.

Doffy pulled back, that wide grin beaming down at you, his fingers tracing your face, pressing into your mouth.

“Such a pretty doll.”

~🦩🦩🦩~

Small whimpers from your own lips shook you awake, and you stilled. The heat and pressure of Doffy’s body didn’t seem to be near.

And the sheets weren’t silk.

“Good morning,” Law rasped, his hair beautifully mussed as he looked up from a book. The couch looked cozy with his pillow and blanket, bringing a disgruntled whine from your throat as you stretched across his lonely bed.

“Are you up for work today?”

He chuckled at your second whine, and you felt his weight on the edge of the bed while you buried your face in the pillow.

“You don’t wanna disappoint Ikkaku,” he teased, shaking your shoulder gently. “Believe me, I know.”

More wordless complaints made him laugh, and that sound alone got you to shake your sleep away.

That, and the soft kisses he gave, the slow sharing of morning breath that kicked you both to the bathroom to brush teeth, fingers pinching at each other's ribs.

So fucking cute. Until you left his quarters, and he held up that stoic face in front of his crew, even though you could tell they saw through it.

The Surgeon of Death. That angry, smirking, dangerous kid that turned into a vicious Warlord of the Sea.

He was a sweetie pie.

I can’t wait to call him that.

You had a feeling that “Weps” would be your favorite position on the ship. There was something about the sonar that scratched a part of your brain, and Ikkaku was still the most relaxing person to be around. No need to fill the quiet with chatter, and no personal questions to skirt. Just instructions, a few jokes now and then, and the occasional “no slouching at sonar, slacker,” always followed with a wink.

“Ooh, I think you’re in trouble.”

Your head shot up at her whispered tease, only to find Law's grumpy face assessing you from the doorway.

Was I slouching?

“Our new recruit will join you for morning shifts for the rest of the week, and I expect a full report on her performance.”

“Yes, captain,” she nodded, her face matching his serious tone. You tried not to gulp.

“Come with me,” the captain ordered, and you found yourself slipping easily into obedience, low level anxiety wrapping comfortably around you.

“Am I in trouble,” you tried to joke, keeping your voice quiet in the halls.

“What? No,” he shook his head, gesturing to the now familiar door. “It’s lunchtime.”

Your soft, “oh,” was drowned out by the crew, although there weren’t many in the galley at the moment. Jean Bart’s greeting boomed from his massive form, the sound heavy enough for multiple pirates.

Anxiety stuck with you throughout the meal, up until Law brought you to the training room.

“I thought we were doing an interview today,” you asked, feet still planted in the hallway.

“Changed my mind. Unless you’re too scared to fight me,” he deadpanned, walking into the room without glancing to see if you’d follow. That feeling was back. That familiar, yet thrilling feeling of playful competition, and it pulled you out of your spiral.

“Jerk,” you huffed, chasing after him.

“Disrespecting your captain again,” he tutted as he pulled you onto the mats. He faced off with you with a smirk, looking you up and down while you moved into a fighting stance. “You’ve got the nerve to mouth off when you’re this out of shape?”

You were the first to strike this time, and it did not go your way.

“You know, you could be a little nicer,” you grumbled, nudging his book with your toes. After an embarrassing training session, annoyingly separate showers, and a dinner with too many energetic crewmates, you shoved your feet onto his lap while you stretched across his couch.

“Could I?”

The purr in his voice made your breath hitch, pressing your toes a little further into his lap until he tossed his book on the table.

He caught your feet, tattooed hands rubbing gently before he pushed them away. More guilt and fear that he didn’t want you started to creep in, until you felt his weight. Until he kissed those doubts away.

“How could I be nicer,” he rasped, his facial hair making you shiver as he breathed along your neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist, loving the quiet gasp he let out.

“Fuck me, Law.”

His body moved against yours, just a bit, and your back arched at the feel of his fingers digging into your hips.

“Please,” you begged, with your nails twisting through his hair, “I want you.”

He kissed you again, and his heavy-lidded eyes rolled back when you scraped his bottom lip between your teeth.

Your body mourned the loss of his heat as he sat back on his heels. The urge to grab him, to pull him toward you, to take him in, had you fighting yourself, but you couldn’t stop your body from writhing. Near-panicked fingers dragged over your own clothes, and you tried not to sob with need.

“Y/N,” he coaxed, his ragged breathing like another temptation you had to fight against, “I want you to feel safe. We can stop anytime, you can tell me–”

“Please, gods, fuck me, Law. I nee–”

Your desperate moan echoed into his mouth as he grinded against you. He helped you rip the shirt from his body, then pulled you up to sit as you tore the suffocating fabric from your own skin.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Law swooned, going to his knees on the floor for better access to trail his lips down your shoulders, your chest, your stomach. He let out a needy moan when you threw your bra to the side. You nodded as he glanced up at you, then arched your back when he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples.

He massaged your breast while he sucked and swirled his tongue, his free hand rubbing a thumb across your other nipple, balancing out the attention. You leaned back on your hands, gasping when he switched sides, when he moaned with your flesh in his mouth.

Then you pulled at his arms, needing to feel more of him. You agreed to his breathy, “bed,” and kissed your way across his shoulder and neck while he carried you across the room.

Your long lost friend crawled onto the bed on his knees to lay you down gently against the pillows, and you couldn’t take another second of waiting.

Finally, he let you tear at his jeans, falling forward to cage you in while you reached into the stiff fabric. Taking his cock in your hand for the first time, even still constrained in his tight pants, made your mind go blank with need. The veins pulsing beneath your fingers sent your body bucking beneath his.

“Wait,” you pleaded, pathetic noises leaving your throat as he moved away. But his movement just brought his lips down your skin again, until his darkened eyes looked up at you from between your legs, his fingers dancing at the waistband of your pants.

“Yes,” you ordered before he could ask.

Running your fingers along your inner thighs, you lost yourself in the way he looked at you. Law’s eyes devoured every bare inch of your skin, the wet aching center of you just waiting for him to take you.

“Please,” you begged again.

He let out a sound that might have been a growl, but it was lost when he plunged his face into your folds. You cried out his name, reaching for his fingers that had wrapped around your hips, then tugged at the strands of his hair again, clinging while he ate at you.

The sensations were overwhelming, his hungry tongue, his facial hair teasing at your skin, the whimpers and whines he sent vibrating into that sensitive piece of you. His little sounds got louder each time you pulled at his hair, as you tried to draw him up toward you.

Law drank you in like you were the last bit of water left on the planet. Kissing, and sucking, and plunging deep, his eyes burned hot while he watched you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he slurred, messy face coming up for air for just a second. He thrust against the mattress, his jeans undone, but still restricting him while he writhed.

Tugging at his hair wasn’t enough, now you were reaching further. You scratched at his shoulders, your fingers dragging across his skin as you fought to pull him up. He just moaned at the contact, bringing his own fingers to push inside you, curling gently while he sucked your clit.

Your back arched for him, but your breathing turned to chaos. The word, “please,” filled the air, but your voice was broken, almost panicked.

“I’m so sorry, are you alright,” he pulled away, wiping his face before he moved out from between your legs. He touched your cheek with his fingertips, sitting beside you as his soothing voice surrounded you.

“You’re safe, it’s okay. What do you need– whoa!”

His pants had to come off. You needed to make him feel good. The need was so intense, so vital, you didn’t think you could breathe until you felt his pleasure.

“Fuck me, please.”

“But you–”

You interrupted his counter, sitting up to kiss his still wet face.

“Please, Law. I’m telling you what I want,” you pleaded, your hands playing dangerously close along his stomach, but waiting for permission. “I want this. I want you.”

“Promise me you’ll tell me to stop if you–”

“I promise.”

He stared for a long moment, and you almost sobbed for him, aching for him now. When he crawled off the bed to strip, you forgot everything else. Those gorgeous tattoos added to the work of art that was his lean, sculpted body. The sight of his thick cock springing free from those tight pants, already so swollen and dripping for you, had you twisting in his sheets.

“Law, need you…”

“I need you too, Y/N,” he rasped, crawling up your body again. He scanned your face, bringing the hard length of him to slide along your core, arching your back while he drenched himself in you. “So wet…”

Another delicate kiss left the taste of both of you on your tongue before his eyes drank you in. A small, impatient whine started to form in your throat, but the slow stretch of his leaking cock took your breath away.

“You feel incredible,” he sighed while you pulled him closer. His lips traced down your jaw, under your ear, letting you hear his soft, eager moans as he filled you. You could feel every vein throbbing as his shaft dragged through you, until there was nowhere left to fill.

He stayed for a second too long, fully hilted within you, but your demanding body took over.

Law moaned, bracing himself on an arm to keep from falling onto you. Your hips were driving up to meet his, fucking onto him while you panted, starved for him.

“Gods, you’re perfect.”

His praise was joined by deep, rolling thrusts that sent your eyes fluttering white. Still writhing beneath him, you gasped when his lips found yours again, one of his hands stroking your hair.

“How does this feel, baby?”

He started to ask more, his voice rough as he checked in, but you couldn’t help but laugh. He started to slow, but you clawed at him.

“So good,” you grinned, fighting to hold in another giggle. “You feel so good, sweetie pie.”

Law’s face, heavy with a mix of heat and concern jerked a bit, his eyes narrowing on you as his lips twitched.

“What’s that now,” he dared, shoving into you just a bit faster while you choked on gasping laughs.

“You’re supposed to be,” you paused, overwhelmed by the feel of him, “so scary. But you’re just a sweetie–”

He shut you up with his tongue down your throat, his fingers fisting into your hair, but not hard enough. Breaking off the kiss, he flashed you that wicked smile, meeting your challenge to prove you wrong.

Your frenzied screams filled the room, but his blown out eyes never left your face, watching your every movement. Still so sweet while he hammered his cock into you. Emotion started to hit, and you didn’t want him to notice and stop. It just felt like a dream, being here with him. Any moment you would wake up to silk sheets, and invisible strings.

Gratitude flooded you, even as your body hit a plateau.

“I need you,” you begged, watching him start to lose that control he clings to. “Law, need to feel you come, plea–”

His thumb carved with the letter, “D,” found your clit, and you clenched your muscles while you screamed for him. You thrashed, letting your legs shake around his hips, and his thrusts stuttered, still so hard and deep as he moaned your name.

He kissed you while he came, and you melted, your body swallowing him in. You wanted him to fill you forever, the hot spill of his pleasure more precious than anything you’d ever held.

Your bodies stayed entwined, breathing into each other as you fought the pressure in your eyes. It felt like ages, yet still not long enough, when he threatened to pull away, leaving a beautiful whisper against your cheek before he moved.

“I missed you, Y/N.”

“Missed you too, sweetie pie,” you teased. You let your body drift into the air, a cloud of delicate water floating above the bed. Ethereal giggles left your form when Law grunted, the lower half of his body falling to the mattress without yours to rest inside.

“Oh, I’m gonna get you for that,” he growled, rolling onto his back to look up at your hovering mist.

“Not if I get you first,” you threatened with a kiss. You’d gone solid, straddling him, and giggling into his mouth when he dug fingers into your thighs. His low, dangerous chuckle made you shiver, gasping when he touched your face, rubbing his thumb across your lips.

“You already got me,” Law teased, his eyes still dark as they poured over you. “Now it’s my turn to make you come.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for reading! I felt bad for all the smutty stop and go's, but I hope you don't mind. Trauma takes time, and healing isn't a linear path, but that doesn't mean that pleasure is out of the question. Patience, and a caring partner can make all the difference. I hope that none of you relate, but if you do, you're not alone. 🖤

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass

Part 5

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

171 notes · View notes

mimsynims · 7 months

Text

Fool For Love

part 8

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

~~~

Author's Note: Sorry this took longer than usual, it was a stressful week at work and I didn't have time or energy to write as much as I wanted. There will be at least one more part, but I'm hoping I'll wrap things up next time (but honestly who knows with these two)

More act 2 spoilers this time!

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, non-explicit injuries, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only…now you do.

Up until now, you’ve not been handling it very well, but you make an effort to move past it. Past him.

~~~

You keep your promise to yourself fairly well in the following days. The Shadowlands, as expected, keep you busy with new mysteries and clues — and plenty of battles — and most of the time, you manage to remain focused on the task at hand.

Perhaps your heartbeat picks up a notch every time Astarion is near, but you ignore it. And maybe, just maybe, you stare at him a smidge too long when he’s not looking, but only when you know it doesn’t pull your attention away from something important.

You’ve caught him watching you too, but you keep your distance. No distractions, not even for a quick roll in the proverbial hay.

Everything is going relatively alright — until it doesn’t.

Thanks to the psionic detector, the Githyanki ambush doesn’t catch you off-guard, but you learn quickly that you have underestimated the danger they pose.

Perhaps you all got too cocky these last few days — too many easily-won battles that have boosted your confidence into thinking that this too will be readily handled.

In retrospect, you should’ve returned to stock up on scrolls and potions before taking them on. Too late now.

It’s a drawn-out battle, wearing you all out little by little, but if it’s anything you and your friends are, it’s tenacious — and after what feels like an eternity, you’re down to one foe. It’s their leader, but even with all of you severely injured, you should be able to take them out.

You grin as Karlach deals a critical hit with her halberd, finishing the Githyanki off with a savage roar.

“Gods, that was close.”

“Too close,” Astarion says as he sheaths his swords. Things aren’t exactly good between you, but it has been getting better. “Next time we contemplate doing something this stupid, how about we don’t?”

“You’re just cranky ‘cause you didn’t get to bite either of them.” Karlach nudges him with a grin. “Isn’t that right, Fangs?”

You’re still laughing when something behind the others steals your attention.

One of the other Githyanki. You saw them get felled by one of Shadowheart’s spells, but perhaps they only got knocked out.

You stop breathing when you realise that not only are they alive — but they have an arrow notched, ready to fire.

And it’s aimed at Astarion.

It’s too late to stop the arrow as they, at that moment, let it fly — so you do the only thing you can think of.

“Tav, what–”

You push him out of the way, but it’s not fast enough.

The pain of the arrow piercing you is blinding; you think you might be screaming.

“Tav!”

You sag to the ground, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking at you with a panicked expression. At least he’s okay, you think.

After that, everything fades to black.

“…Calm down, Astarion, Tav will be alright.”

“They don’t look alright! Why aren’t you doing more?”

“The only thing we can do now is wait. If you can’t behave, leave. We’ll find you when Tav wakes up.”

You’re vaguely aware of the voices, but you’re not quite capable of parsing what they’re saying.

“Hah! And leave them alone with you lot? I don’t think so.”

Why does everyone sound so upset? You can’t remember, and before your mind is clear enough to figure it out, you drift back into unconsciousness.

Your mind still feels like a blur when you come to next. You think someone might be holding your hand, but it’s difficult to be sure when you’re groggy with pain. And you’re not ready to open your eyes just yet.

“Why, oh, why, must you always play the hero? And for me, of all people?”

You recognise the low-pitched voice. Astarion. Why is he here?

“So stupid.” What feels like hair brushes against the back of your hand. “I’m not worth you losing your life.”

“Sure you are,” you press out, because it’s that simple. “I’d do anything for you.”

He inhales sharply. “Tav? Tav, darling, open your eyes for me.”

You reluctantly do as he asks, and it surprises you to find him looking uncharacteristically dishevelled.

“There you are. You had us worried, you know.”

“Astarion.”

“I’ll go and get the others.”

“Astarion.”

Before you can stop him, he leaves, and when he returns with the rest of your friends, he sticks to the background, letting the others dote on you.

You want him to come back, want him to hold your hand again. If the others weren't around, you might have asked him to. Instead, you see him sneak out of the tent when Karlach starts admonishing you for your brave yet careless stunt.

You love them all so much, but in that moment you’re this close to telling them all to leave. You would have, if you didn’t know that they probably need this to ease their own worries.

Still, you’re eternally grateful when Shadowheart ten minutes later shoo everyone out of your tent. She’s about to leave too when she turns to give you a secretive smile.

“You said his name, you know. More than once. When we carried you back to camp.”

With a bone-deep groan, you hide your face in your hands. “Please tell me he didn’t hear.”

“Oh, he most definitely did. But you know how he is, after the initial surprise, his expression turned blank. But his eyes never left you after that.” She huffs a laugh. “Not that he let you out of his sight before that. The only one allowed to carry you was Karlach.”

It sounds too good to be true. “Really?”

“I thought he was going to attack Halsin when he bent down to pick you up.”

“Why would he do that?” It truly makes no sense.

“Jealousy, of course.”

“Astarion? Jealous?”

Instead of answering, she just gives you a wink. “Seems like you two have that in common. Now make sure to rest, alright? I’ll come by with something to eat later.”

“Right.” Your head is spinning, and not only because you're recovering from an injury. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”

You want to process everything you just learned but your body is not having it; in mere minutes, you’re back under again.

No one is holding your hand when you hours later rouse from sleep. Strange that, how your mind seems to have expected it just because it happened last time. When Astarion was sitting by your side.

Astarion.

You have to find him.

It still hurts like hell, but the pain level is manageable. Perhaps a grunt or two slips out of you as you drag yourself up to standing, but no one’s there to give you grief about it so it’s fine. It’s nothing you can’t handle.

It’s dark outside, but you should’ve known better than to think that that would be enough to let you sneak away unnoticed.

“And just where do you think you’re going, soldier?”

Karlach.

“I need to see him.” She already knows, so you might as well get right to the point.

She sighs. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“No.”

“What if I go and find him for you?”

“Karlach.”

“Fiiiine. But only because I was already heading that way, anyway.”

“Dammon?”

Her besotted smile is a fetching look on her and you would hug her if you didn’t think it would hurt too much.

“Yeaaah. And last time I saw Astarion, he was heading in that direction.”

You don’t talk much on the walk over to the inn, your mind too busy going over and over what you want to say. What you want to ask him.

“You alright there, soldier?”

“Mmm, yeah. Maybe a bit nervous.” Because it’s truly dawning on you what you’re about to do. What if you’ve got it all wrong?

“Hah, trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Her gentle squeeze on your arm feels reassuring. At least a little bit. She glances over her shoulder at the smithy where a fire is still burning. “And this is where I leave you.”

“I’m happy for you, Karlach.”

“Thank you, Tav. I’d say good luck but I don’t think you’ll need it. Now go and shake some sense into the vampire of yours.”

“Will do,” you say, even though you’re not sure you mean it. Every plan you’ve made so far involving this man has gone sideways, so who’s to say it won’t this time?

Taking a deep breath, you find yourself remaining where you are. Stalling.

“Should you really be up and about, Tav?”

“Jaheira.” You are so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear her approach. Turning around to face her, you give her a small smile. “I have something important I need to do.”

“I see.” With a slight bow of her head, she acknowledges your wish for privacy. “It’s good that you’re here, I wanted to thank you for your help the other day. I’m not sure we would still be standing if it weren’t for you and your friends.”

“Trust me, I’m just as happy as you are about that. And you made quite the dent in enemy forces yourself, taking down several of those winged horrors.”

“Their deaths wouldn’t have mattered if you hadn’t dealt with Marcus.”

“Still.” Jaheira is a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it. “We could use someone of your calibre in our party.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m needed here.”

“I understand.” Something in her expression tells you that she’s tempted. “Consider it an open invitation. In case you change your mind.”

“I will, thank you.”

“You don’t happen to know if Astarion is here somewhere?” You decide you might as well save yourself some time and ask. “Karlach told me she had seen him head this way.”

“He came here a while ago, yes. I think he’s down by the water.” She nods in the direction between the inn and the barn.

“Thank you.”

~~~

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #bg3 tav #fic wip

370 notes · View notes

could-it-be-a-dream · 2 years

Text

desperate times

pairing(s): peter ballard x fem!orderly!reader

summary: peter’s been frustrated lately. you take notice and decide to help out.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI! slight dom!reader, oral (m receiving), face fucking, pet names, praise kink, minor st4 spoilers (sort of)

words: ~1.1k

a/n: on my KNEES for this man istg🛐🛐 sorry if this seems rushed, i wrote it within like two hours (there may or may not be a second part coming, though😏) also, please note that there are MAJOR st4 spoilers in the tags!!! enjoy!

(i do not give permission to translate or post any of my work anywhere else!)

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the repeated tapping of a lab-issued dress shoe striking the floor is the only sound, save for the quiet ticking of the wall-mounted clock, that can be heard in the hawkins lab break room. for the most part, the room is usually cleared out this time of day. you glance up from the book you’ve probably read thousands of times, your eyes finding the source of the noise.

seated at a table across the room from you, you find peter ballard, your coworker and fellow orderly. despite seeing one another every day, the two of you never interacted much past the polite greetings when you pass each other in the halls or the catching one other’s eyes during lunch breaks and staff meetings. although, you’ve found that you enjoy watching him, studying his habits, his movements. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him.

which is why you can’t help but admire him as he sits almost silently at the other end of the room; the way his eyebrows are drawn together as if being pulled by a string, forming creases in his forehead. the way he lightly chews on his lip as he stares at the table in front of him. the way he readjusts in his seat to try to hide the very noticeable tent in his pants.

you swallow at that last thought, plenty of other thoughts flooding your brain in response to the observation. you notice him looking up at you, but when your eyes return to his face to meet his gaze, he looks away again.

you frown and, after a moment of contemplation, rise from your seat, the shrill cry of the chair legs scraping against the floor breaking the silence. peter looks up again, this time not looking away as he follows your movements with his eyes. you grin, eager to mess with him.

“looks like you’ve got a bit of a problem there, peter.” you comment, eyebrows raised as you briefly cast your eyes down to his lap.

“i-“ the corners of your lips quirk up as he fumbles for something to say, his face turning a beautiful shade of pink.

you reach out and grab his chin lightly, pressing your thumb onto his bottom lip. you drag it downwards before releasing it, watching it fall back into place.

“you want some help with that?”

“what?” his voice comes out as little more than a surprised squeak as he looks up at you, face burning at the suggestion.

you opt not to say anything, instead dropping to your knees in front of him. his breath hitches when you place your hands on the insides of his thighs, spreading his legs apart. you slowly massage your way up his thighs, barely grazing his bulge through his pants before retreating and resting your hands on his upper thighs. he lets out a shaky exhale at the brief contact.

you look up at him through your eyelashes. “is this okay?”

peter swallows, nodding quickly.

“use your words, pretty boy.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you hum in appreciation, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his clothed dick as your hands resume their previous action, touching and stroking him through his pristine white pants. his head falls back and he groans as you reach for his belt, undoing it quickly.

“look at me, peter.” as soon as he pulls his head up, you lean up and connect your lips to his. he hums appreciatively, and you manage to get his pants undone, pulling his cock free from his boxers. from what you can feel, it’s not overly thick, but what it lacks in girth is more than made up for by the length. as you begin to stroke it, using the bead of precum at the tip as lubrication, peter moans into your mouth, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue in.

peter’s hips buck up into your hand, and you chuckle into the kiss. pulling away, you sink back to your previous position, shooting him a coy glance before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his weeping tip. you lick a broad stripe up the vein on the underside of his cock, and peter whimpers.

you’re suddenly thankful that you’re kneeling, otherwise you’re pretty sure the sound would’ve made your knees give out.

you moan before wrapping your lips around him and taking him into your mouth. you hear peter mutter a string of expletives above you as his hand comes up to tangle in your hair.

“oh god, y/n. feels so good.”

his words make you moan around his cock. ignoring the gathering wetness in your panties and taking him further, you gag slightly, but his hand tightening in your hair combined with the noises he’s making spur you on.

you grip the outside of his thigh to stable yourself as you quickly bob up and down, your free hand stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth. peter whines, his head falling back as you pull back and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock.

“shit, y/n, i’m so close. god- don’t stop.”

with the hand he has in your hair, he forces you down further on his dick, bucking his hips up into your mouth. you cough around him as he cries out, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth to muffle his moans. within seconds, you feel him fill your throat and loosen his grip on your hair. you pull off of his cock with a pop and swallow the saltiness. leaning in, you give him a soft kiss on the lips, both of you panting into it.

“you did so well, baby. so good for me.” he smiles dazedly at the praise, but it’s soon replaced with a frown.

“what about you?” he asks, gently holding your waist.

you smile. “don’t worry about me, pretty boy. this was about you.”

you fall silent for a moment as he reluctantly stands and begins tidying up his appearance. after a moment of thought, you speak up again.

“if you really wanna make it up to me,” you smile coyly, bringing a hand up to his chin and angling his head to face you, “meet me in storage room b after dinner tonight.”

his pupils dilate as you let your arm trail down his chest. you turn around and walk out, leaving him with a half-hard dick and a fun night to look forward to.

#peter ballard x reader #peter ballard imagine #peter ballard smut #henry creel x reader #henry creel smut #henry creel #001 x reader #001 smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #vecna x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie campbell bower smut #spencer writes

3K notes · View notes

ch3rrywrites · 6 months

Text

like broken pieces of glass (lyney, lynette, & freminet x y/n)

masterlist┆next post featuring them

══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════

❛❛ angst with the fontaine siblings. ❜❜

𓆩♡𓆪 warnings: fontaine archon quest act 1 & 2 spoilers, reader is gn, hurt no comfort, lyney's part has implied cheating, reader is dead in lynette's part, argument in freminet's part

𓆩♡𓆪 category: angst/hurt

𓆩♡𓆪 wc: ~200 per character

𓆩♡𓆪 a/n: freminet and lynette's were a little out of character but i'm new.. and i'm not writing too much for angst not sure if freminet was revealed as fatui during the trial... but let's say he was

taglist: (pleasee please lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════

Lyney

"You never were going to tell me, were you?"

That was the last thing you had said before turning away.

But what you dreaded was how he didn't run after you. How he didn't reply. How he just... watched you disappear into the sunset... probably-

Never to return.

What about the banquet that night, where you’d entered a party full of princesses and princes, beautiful chandeliors, and tiles that decorated the floor in a flurry of gold?

It seemed like heaven.

Only… if this was “heaven,” then it would be your “hell” too.

Lyney had excused himself to the restroom, and you were strolling around the party, taking note of the different antiques and flower vases.

Some had diamonds patterns, some had animals, and some had wings. Looking past a flower vase, you saw a person in a top hat kissing someone else...

Wait, kissing?

"...Lyney?"

Darkness would engulf the room, followed by screams behind you as you raced out of the very place you'd call "heaven." Then, the sounds of that magician’s footsteps would chase after you, pleading for a chance to talk, anything.

Your world had shattered, and Lyney was desperately trying to pick up the pieces. But, the broken glass would only cut his skin, everytime he tried.

Minor cuts, but permanent scars.

But alas, when Lyney looked up at where you previously stood, all he saw was dust. Dust.

It's time to go home.

══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════

Lynette

All she saw was you-

You, who drunk tea with her everyday. You, who sat with her in silence at dawn. You, who helped her with her makeup before a performance.

She should've never entered these ruins with you, should've ignored them when there were signs of Primordial Water inside.

And yet, you'd urged her on... all for what? To finish a task the traveler had asked her to? To show her the gift you'd promised?

What gift would there be if you're... not even alive? What mora would be worth this? What future would you have together? "It's okay." She had reassured her worried brother, "It's just for a little while."

If only she knew this would happen...

And here you are, falling into the monstrous abyss that which is the Primordial Sea.

You had accepted your fate. You didn't fight back against the waves, call out her name, or reach for her hand.

"Farewell, Lynette."

Your teary eyes met her gaze one last time.

When Lyney had arrived at the scene, he desperately tried to pull her away from the water. But she wouldn't budge, just staring at the darkness pooling under her.

"I'm... f-fine, Lyney."

"But, it's dangerous here... and where's Y/N?"

She didn't reply.

══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════

Freminet

"No! I won't have it!" Freminet flinched at the tone of your voice.

"I thought you were..." You sighed, "-nice. Not someone who's part of a scandalous organization."

He didn't respond.

All you saw was his figure leaving the house, footsteps clinking away.

You stared at the spot where he previously stood, as if trying to break the floor apart with your intense gaze. But alas, you knew that would not help.

That day during the trial...

"Tell me, aren't you and your siblings from the House of the Hearth?" Focalors' voice echoed through the stadium.

You'd expected Freminet to object, to protest against her statement, or just... something. But alas, he never spoke up.

Never.

"Freminet?"

And now, as well as detaching yourself from your beloved, you'd detached yourself from your home. Your one and only... true home.

Perhaps it's time to move on.

══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══════

masterlist┆next post featuring them

#lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #lyney x you #lynette x reader #lynette x y/n #lynette x you #freminet x reader #freminet x y/n #freminet x you #genshin angst #genshin scenarios #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #fontaine x reader #angst #genshin impact #fontaine

173 notes · View notes

a11eya · 10 months

Text

jess 💖 30 💖 she/her, they/them

hi friends! if you’re reading this, it means you’ve managed to stumble upon my little writing tumblr, so welcome!

please bear with me, as i desperately need to update this pinned post and make a proper masterlist... in the meantime, i hope you enjoy my silliness ✨ feel free to chat with me!! ✨💞

blog info

multi-fandom

minors dni, 18+ blog

you might see me interact (asks, likes, etc.) using my main, a11eya-chats

i don't do any tags/tag lists 🥺 see this ask for why

please do not repost or translate my work, and please do not feed it into AI

frequently used tags

____ spoilers ➝ fandom tag + spoilers (ex - bnha spoilers) - like the label, i'll tag any spoilers

cw ____ ➝ content warning (ex - cw violence) - i'll do my best to tag potentially triggering content!

jess scribbles ➝ my general writing tag

jess replies ➝ answers to asks

jess reblogs ➝ posts i reblog

jess talks ➝ sometimes i’ll give fic updates or just talk in general about writing or characters! 😊

lights will guide you home (bakugou katsuki x reader)

Soul-lights aren’t as common in this day and age as they were in the past, before quirks, but they’re common enough that people do still find their soulmates.

At thirteen, you meet Bakugou Katsuki, and he lights up for you in orange and gold. You tell him he's your soulmate. He sneers and tells you that you aren't his. He makes your adolescence miserable until you part ways.

You meet again as adults, late at night, in a grocery store, over a pile of bok choy. He apologizes for how he treated you when you were children.

(In which you have a choice—to reject Bakugou's apology, reject him, or to let him show you the man he's become, to learn with him what it means to love and forgive.)

Series Masterlist 1/27/2024 Update: Chapter Ten

do you still think about me? (bakugou katsuki x reader)

Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

Series Masterlist 5/26/2024 Update (Completed): Chapter Three

oneshots

unfiltered (bakugou katsuki x reader)

in one kiss, you'll know all i haven't said (kirishima eijirou x reader)

snippet & scribbles

bakugou works out listening to your voice (bakugou katsuki x reader)

bakugou's grumpy and possessive at the beach (bakugou katsuki x reader)

izuku's your soulmate, and it hurts (midoriya izuku x reader)

bakugou sleeps shirtless at night (bakugou katsuki x reader)

you're a big fan of pro hero dynamight (bakugou katsuki x reader)

roommate bakugou is an absolute menace once he catches you checking him out (bakugou katsuki x reader)

cupping his face in your hand (bakugou/kirishima/midoriya x reader)

katsuki's so into you (bakugou katsuki x reader)

a dragon's treasure (bakugou katsuki x reader)

kiri doesn't get jealous (kirishima eijirou x reader)

kiri always thinks you're beautiful (kirishima eijirou x reader)

kiri untitled wip 1 2 (kirishima eijirou x reader)

fanfic trope mashup game

#updated 5-26-2024 #about me #navigation #masterlist

248 notes · View notes

bloopitynoot · 9 months

Text

3 Shadowgast fics that made me ugly cry

Okay so I read a LOT of shadowgast fanfics and I wanted to share some of the ones that made me absolutely weep. (I was going to wait until tomorrow but I got too excited to share).

All of these have some intense emotional distress, but I promise you all they may be angsty but they absolutely have happy endings.

They are all set in very different AU's, are hefty completed fics, and have similar feels!

1. the breathe before the phrase

(171513 words) by @kmackatie Chapters: 20/20 Rating: Explicit Summary: The ringing note of a concert A is played by the oboe, echoing on its own in the space. It’s picked up by the wind section, followed rapidly by the brass, and the familiar feeling of an orchestra calibrating takes over Caleb. The tonal adjustments as each person brings their instrument into alignment sinks into him and something inside Caleb shifts in recognition as Essek leads the strings into their own tuning. It’s like something is waking up, like something unfurling and firing across long-unused paths of memory. His hands shake slightly, as he raises his bow and joins them, fingers fumbling against the pegs and fine tuners that give him control over his instrument. ---- Essek Thelyss is a leading violinist, his spot as Shadowhand of the Rosohna Philharmonic Orchestra has been uncontested for over a decade. Caleb Widogast is a recent arrival to the city, convinced by his friends to audition for one of the vacant violinist positions. After starting off on the wrong foot, Caleb and Essek get to slowly know each other, discover what brings them joy, create while defying expectations, and find out that what they can produce together may just be better than anything they can do separately.

Why I cried: The amount of pressure put on Essek made my heart absolutely shatter. That plus the pinning between Caleb and Essek had me weeping. The hurt/comfort energy. The bad parent Dierta and of course past Caleb Ickythong trauma healing. Other than the story itself Katie has put so much energy into explaining the music, the playlist is stunning, and the inspiration for the played pieces in the fic are grounded in actual compositions. No spoilers, but the ending is gorgeous <3

2.Till Human Voices Wake us

(66080 words) by @ariadne-mouse Chapters: 23/23 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Merman!Caleb, no Mighty Nein but otherwise canon setting/events, Neutral evil Essek, Essek-typical anxiety and fatalism, Loneliness, Hurt/Comfort, spooky gothic vibes, some horror and disturbing imagery, the ocean as a threat/love language, Illustrations, drowning themes Summary: Essek Thelyss, lonely and ambitious prodigy, comes to Nicodranas to make a risky gamble with the Assembly. At the water’s edge, he finds himself swept up in another dangerous entanglement he can't seem to escape — and as time goes on, he's less and less sure he wants to. Will his treasonous alliance or the sea itself devour him first? (Or, the one where Caleb is a merman.)

Why I cried: okay so look, this story was so fucking sad I can't even begin to describe it. The love and longing between the two, the tragic backstory for Caleb. Treason = death for Essek (it's a happy ending though so do not worry, but I definitely worried so you don't have to LOL). It also has some stunning art in it!!!

3. what luminous worlds await

what luminous worlds await (178674 words) by @essektheylyss Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Champion of the Luxon AU, Alternate Universe - Future, Space Opera, Religious Conflict, religious trauma, Violence, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Dreams vs. Reality, Demisexual Essek Thelyss, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Fictional Religion & Theology, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mention of Using Sex as Self-Harm, several immortals grapple with loss while trying to save the world, so so many liberties taken with consecution, this wouldn't be a problem if you'd EXPLAIN matthew mercer, and/or if a certain drow would give literally any straight answers, (I mean he can't give straight answers when he's not straight), Background Fjorester (Past), Post-Canon, …very post-canon Summary: “You seek my nature. It is a lonely endeavor. Would you like to join me on this path?” “Yes.” — After a thousand years, a divine champion awakes in a lightless cave above Port Damali with little memory to speak of and a beacon in his hands. Even as he struggles to piece the past together and process what he has lost while he slept, the future demands he answer for the crimes of his elders. It offers little in return, but perhaps there are fragments of possibility awaiting him.

Why I cried: Omg oh boy, this one made me BIG cry- honestly one of my favourite fics I have read so far. A true space opera, a story of love, in many forms, over time, space, and multiple lives. I sobbed from chapter one literally until the end. Though I think you will need an A03 account to read this one, but it is worth the wait to set one up. My partner watched me cry so much while I read this. I totally did download and save this fic to send to pals so they can cry with me. It is worth the agony for this happy ending. I might still be crying LOL

#for the shadowgast shippers #shadowgast #shadowgast recs #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #cr m9 #mighty nein #critical role #honestly some of them I sobbed while explaining the premise to my partner because I have a lot of feelings #these are all worth the length

211 notes · View notes

paracosmic-murdock · 11 months

Text

i loved the present and i love you ;; matt murdock x fem!reader

pairing: matt murdock x afab!reader

summary: your birthday isn't your favorite holiday. damn, you don't even celebrate it properly and you weren't precisely looking forward to it. however, this year you have Matt and he won't let it go unnoticed. at least you will notice.

disclaimer: this is a os from a fanfiction with multiple chapters. there's no need to read the entire fic (i wouldn't complain if you do;)), but there's a couple things you should know (no spoilers / minor spoilers):

▪︎ matt and reader met in columbia, this is a (past) academic rivals to lovers fic. ▪︎ reader is peter parker's adopted sister ▪︎ reader doesn't know about matt being daredevil (yet)

warnings/tags: shameless smut (minors dni), oral sex (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, established relationship, mention of past injuries, sad origin story (r), mention of ben parker's death, hating birthdays, but not so much anymore

word count: 2.5K

from: your forever is all that i need on ao3 - discontinued

✰ mila's paracosm (main masterlist)

The last time you happily celebrated your birthday was before your and Peter's parents died.

Your first birthday after that was spent crying in your bedroom while May and Ben tried to make you leave your room. They tried so hard, and you knew it, but there was no ounce of strength in you that could help you cross that door.

Eventually, everyone stopped trying.

You felt guilty. Ungrateful. Like the worst human on Earth. But birthdays celebrate life and you felt like you didn't have a pinch of it inside you.

However, you let Ben talk to you in this fatherly way you had missed. You would know about it because you'd had two fathers by then, and even though Ben never had children of his own, you felt like you had had three.

Ben said it was okay if you didn't want to celebrate your birthday. He said it was okay to mourn however wanted. He said it was okay to miss everyone you had lost. And he meant it, you knew.

So, for years, you and May used to bake birthday cake from the box, Ben and Peter would buy balloons and candies and it was just the four of you. That, until Ben passed away.

That's when you stopped celebrating your birthday for good, and every person who got into your life and stuck long enough to get to your birthday knew you didn't like it.

You got birthday gifts, though, and didn't really hate the thought of someone caring about you enough that would get you a present.

Still, here we are.

"Is it Y/N's birthday today?"

Peter looked at Matt. "What? Nope."

"When is it, then?" Matt frowned, catching Peter's heart jumping suddenly.

"When our parents adopted her it didn't say." he lied, expecting Matt to let it go. "Why the question?"

"I overheard her talking on the phone with someone. Said someone sent her a basket full of all her favorite candies, a gorgeous necklace, and wished her a happy birthday. She said thank you." Matt explained. "I was thinking about it and realized that we never threw her a birthday party at college, and she was great friends with the guy that hosted the best parties."

Peter shook his head. "Fine. It is her birthday, but don't talk about it. Pretend today is any normal day and we'll all be just fine."

"Why? I would really like to take her out for dinner and get her something nice." he questioned. Peter sighed.

"She was big on birthdays when she was little, but after everything that happened, she started hating them. The last of her birthdays we celebrated was before Uncle Ben died." Peter replied. "May and I always give her cute presents, she says thank you and the day goes on as if nothing had happened."

"So now I will just know it's her birthday and do nothing about it?"

"Exactly." Peter nodded. "It's for the best if you don't wanna upset her."

"But someone already gave her something and she didn't seem that mad."

"It was probably Louis or Donna. At the office, the inner circle knows. The first time they threw her a big party and she got sick right there. Y/N then told them the truth. From that moment on, they send her a gift saying nothing else, she calls them to thank them, and if she brings it up or it feels fine, they wish her a happy birthday," he told Matt. "There's only one other person who knows about it, but nothing to worry about."

Matt clicked his tongue. "It was another person."

"Please, don't do anything. She probably doesn't want to deal with that today." Peter pleaded after a long silence.

"It's fine, I won't." Matt agreed. "Are the two of you doing something today for her?"

"Nope," Peter replied. "I'm going to put on the suit and May has reading club at Mrs. Irwin's place."

"She is going to be home alone on her birthday?"

"Not really, she'll eat a bunch of candies and watch rom-coms." Peter sighed. "That's how she likes to spend her birthdays, there's really nothing wrong about it. Don't feel like you have to do something."

"Hi, sweetheart."

"Hey, there." You smiled, not that Matt could find out from the other line or anything. "How are you?"

"I'm great now that I hear your voice," Matt replied. "Miss you. You should come over."

You hummed. "We had lunch together."

"Still miss you."

"Now?" you questioned, feeling lazy because you were watching 13 going on 30 and eating chocolates and were comfortable in Matt's t-shirt you stole and pajama shorts.

"Nope, is it fine in 5 minutes?"

"How about if you come? You can join me in bed and we can cuddle, but no sex because I showered early and I don't wanna shower again."

Matt chuckled. "I don't mind if you haven't showered."

"I love it that you miss me and everything, but is something else happening?" you asked, having your own theory in mind but not wanting to test your luck. "Like, what's the occasion?"

"Well, you came over two days ago unannounced with no occasion… I thought that missing you would be enough."

"I had an occasion, I wanted sex."

"You don't want sex now?"

"I won't complain at all, but I don't wanna leave home."

Matt laughed. "But we'd have privacy here."

"Peter is staying over at Ned's and May is out on a date with someone she hasn't told me and Peter about. Don't tell Peter, though. He thinks she's at her reading club at our neighbor's."

"Okay… See you in an hour."

"See you."

"Why won't May tell you and Peter about her date?"

You snorted. "Because we were teasing her too much about it the last time. In our defense, it was Happy."

"What was happy?"

"Happy is a human male. He works for Stark. He's his driver but they're like best friends of some sort."

"His name is Happy?"

"I don't know, that's what we call him."

"And why would you annoy May because of Happy?"

"It was so weird, I'm telling you." You widened your eyes. "They're like oil and water… But he's nice."

Matt laughed. "If you say so."

You snuggled onto him and smiled. "Thanks for coming."

"You don't have anything to thank me for."

Nowadays, seeing Matt in anything other than his work suits was rare to say the least, so having him by your side in just a t-shirt and sweats as if he was going to work out was a miracle.

Your fingers started softly tracing the silhouette of his body, the tip of your fingers wandering delicately, causing goosebumps on his skin. You chuckled. "You like that?"

"What?" he asked, playing pretend. "Don't know what you mean."

You scoffed as your fingers went to his face. "You don't know? Let's see."

Then you went to his torso, going lower until you reached the hem of his t-shirt. You lifted it slightly, making him lightly whimper.

"Oh…" you muttered as your index finger ran into a prominent scar. Its length was about three quarters the one of your finger and its relief was higher than any scar you had seen before. "Is this…?"

Matt flinched as he noticed the direction you were going. "It's- uhm… really old."

Thanks to the darkness of your room and the only lightning that allowed you to barely see were the moon and the streetlights, you didn't notice that the scar was still pinkish and that he was lying. "How did you get it?"

"I was…" Matt sighed. A made up story he had built in case anyone ever saw the scars and he couldn't explain the truth to them came to his mind. He knew you deserved better than that. "lightly stabbed."

You gasped. "What?"

"Yeah, I… was trying to be the hero and got stabbed. You wouldn't want to see the other guy, though." he replied, making you laugh because you were convinced he was joking. "I didn't either but from what I heard it wasn't that cool for him."

"I wanna keep that version in my mind, so I'm allowing it."

Matt smiled and gave you a kiss. His hands touched the bare skin of your arms in a seductive kinda way. "How about we leave this one on and make this night a good one for my pretty girl, huh?"

Now you have goosebumps.

He lifted your t-shirt, drawing tender circles on your skin and delighting himself with how perfect it felt. His fingers met with your bralette, the lace fabric making him think that maybe you weren't really discarding the possibility of sex. He was completely right, and he would not fuck that up because now he had you right there for him. And he wanted you.

As a result of this growing desire, Matt slipped into the bra, stumbling with your sideboob and tracing its outline until he reached the valley between your breasts. Then, he went to your hardening nipple and circled it.

You gasped almost mutely. "I haven't showered since early in the morning, so maybe you should stop doing this to me? You know, because it-"

Matt shook his head, kissing your temple. "I don't care, sweetheart… If you don't want to, I'll stop, but don't think for a moment that I could-"

"Find me dirty? Because I am."

"You smell like you. This perfume of yours I love, although fading a little… You washed your hair this morning, so you smell like the same shampoo you've used since college. Your fingers smell like chocolate and your lips taste like chocolate and I'm certain you've eaten more in the past hour than what a human being should ingest in a week. Always the biggest sweet tooth I know. I'm not gonna lie, you've sweat today, as have I. As has everyone else on Earth. I don't care. You're perfect."

That motherfucker is going to be the death of you… Fucking man, how much you love him.

And that argument of his? Feeling that cherished, plus his caresses, plus his subtle kisses on your cheek and neck, plus everything that he makes you feel? It was a major turn on.

"Oh, there it is…" he noted in a loud moan. Matt's hand left your breasts and went south, feeling the matching lace fabric interrupt his path to your sex. "You smell so good, and you taste even better… Can- can I? Can I, sweetheart?"

You nodded impatiently, and he was even less.

As soon as he felt the motion beside him, the air shifting, he went full in.

You flinched at the sudden contact with his cold fingers, and he groaned at the sensation of your arousal meeting his eager digits… The mere reminder of how long your scent lasts on him was enough to make him hard.

Matt used his other hand to manhandle you until your back was against his front.

His fingers worked you up until you were wet enough for his finger to slide into you with such ease. "You're perfect," he muttered, his fingers following a steady rhythm of ins and outs you eagerly matched as his hips grinded urgently against your ass. "My perfect girl…, you feel so good."

"So do you," you said, your arms holding onto his strong biceps. "God, yes… Just like that, yes…"

Matt's middle finger left you empty, but then did his comeback along with his ring finger as the palm of his hand gave you that intermittent friction your clit begged for.

With endless moans escaping from your parted lips and the most desperate breathing leaving your exploited lungs indicating Matt you needed a release, as the loyal devotee of you that Matt is, he obeyed your body's wishes as if it was a command. For him it was.

And he never stopped grinding, and he came.

And you followed.

As soon as he made sure you were done, his hand abandoned your aching core and went right to his mouth, where he licked it clean.

"So good…" he whispered in bliss. Then, Matt undressed you. You let him. "My pretty girl's taste is perfect."

His mouth didn't waste any time and searched your cunt. Matt drank every residue of your arousal on its surroundings and then buried his tongue inside you.

His tongue went up and down your slit trying to collect every drop he could get, and then he swirled it on your sensitive, needy clit with the purpose of creating more and more. He was eating you out faster than you could register and it felt so goddamn good.

As if he was just told that this would be his last meal in a long time and he is only trying to eat as much as he can so the fullness lasts longer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled him closer. "It- it feels so good."

"Does it?" Matt moaned into you. "I'm glad… You taste way better."

A desperate gasp escaped from your lips as your orgasm felt closer and closer. "Please, don't stop."

You could swear you felt his smile down there. "I won't…"

So he didn't. His tongue only focused more on what he had learned you liked.

Your thighs held him in place and he felt lightheaded, but didn't care. Matt's hands gripped your hips and held on for dear life so you wouldn't move too far from his sinfully skilled mouth.

With distressed moans and more urgent movements and a coat of sweat and curled toes and arched back and his name on your lips like a spell, you announced how close you were.

And then that filthy explosion of sensations took over you ever so harshly that it took you a while to stop the loud whines that made sure to let many of your neighbors know that the man that entered your home a few hours ago gave you quite the session.

Everyone knows that his name is Matt and that he made you feel so good.

Neither one of you was ashamed of it, especially not Matt. He would gladly do it all night long so no one forgets who you belong to and who satisfies you that well.

He kissed you and as many times before, you tasted yourself in him.

"I gotta tell you something about today."

Matt nodded. "Peter told me."

"You aren't mad because I didn't tell you?"

"Do you think I would've done that if I were mad?" he questioned, and he could feel your incredulous glance. "Yeah, I have… Forget about that one," Matt smiled. "I'm not mad, I don't have any right to be… Peter explained everything and I understand that. Maybe someday you'll want to celebrate it and I'll be right here, alright? Meanwhile I can give you a gift like this one every year."

You snorted. "You'll just use any excuse to do that at this point."

"Oh, if it isn't the pot calling the kettle black." he mused. "Happy birthday, sweetheart. Love you."

"Thanks. I loved the present and I love you."

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x fem!reader #charlie cox #matt murdock smut

240 notes · View notes

arvandus · 11 months

Text

Touch Pt. 14 - Forgiveness

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

**18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI**

OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: Soft!Dabi, F!Reader with a fictional backstory, fanon version of past events (I started this before the canon stuff dropped), manga spoilers, canon deviation, drug abuse/withdrawal (with inaccuracies since it’s outside of my experience and relies on research and imagination), violence, heavy angst, past trauma/abuse, anxiety/panic attacks, PTSD, hurt/comfort, pining, slow burn, eventual emotionally charged SMUT, all characters will be written with complexity (i.e., no one-dimensional/hateful representations). *please pay attention to specific warning tags within each chapter!*

CHAPTER WARNINGS: The usual drug warnings (withdrawal, pain management, etc.); 18+ hints but nothing explicit

Chapter Song: Twenty Twelve by Matt Maeson

Part 1 Part 13

Artwork credit to @hellowon31 on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hellowon31)

Chapter 14: Forgiveness

You were waiting for him in his room, medical bag ready, dry clothes set out at the end of his bed. Dabi came through the portal, soaked to the bone. His black hair was plastered to his face, his clothes dripping puddles on the hard floor. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, and you were torn between smacking him or hugging him. But then his eyes met yours. His usual walls were gone, and for the first time since that one night, you saw him. You saw his pain, dark and endless, eyelids tired and heavy. He wore his suffering plainly on his face, his trademark half-grin gone, leaving behind a man clearly broken.

You rushed to him, closing the gap between you in three short strides, your arms wrapping around him in a tight hug. You buried your face in his hoodie, letting the soaked fabric hide the tears in your eyes as you inhaled the scent of him, a smokey dark odor laced with touches of petrichor from the rain. Dabi grunted in pain at the force of your greeting, and you quickly released him.

“Sorry...” you muttered, your voice wavering slightly.

“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

You stared at him for a moment, your hands cupping his cheeks. They were unusually cold to the touch, as if the fire within him had been tempered, dulled beneath the weight of something heavy. You let your quirk trickle in, and the darkness lifted slightly.

“You idiot,” you whispered as you stared into his blue eyes. Then you wrapped your arms around him again, much more gently than the first time.

Dabi’s body stiffened at first, but he didn’t push you away. After a few heartbeats, his arms began to come up to reciprocate, but they faltered, frozen in mid-air as if he were afraid to touch you.

“I swear to God,” you muttered into his wet hoodie, “if you don’t hug me back, then I might have to punch you.”

A dry, half-hearted scoff pushed past his lips. “You’re getting all wet.”

“I don’t care.”

You felt his chest expand with an inhaled breath. Then he closed the small distance between his arms and your body. His hands wrapped around the curve of you, fingers splayed wide to cage you in his hold, as if he feared you’d slip away. The wet cold hit your body instantly, but you didn’t care. His arms felt hard, strong. It reinforced his presence, helped the fear in your chest flake and fall away.

I just need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you’re really here and that you’re safe.

The words danced on your tongue, but your lips refused to open and let loose the confession. So, you swallowed them instead, pulling away after a moment.

Dabi was right, of course... your shirt and pants now had a dark imprint of water on the front of them. It would take time for it to dry, but you suspected you had plenty of time ahead of you. There was a lot to do, and even more to say.

“You must be freezing,” you commented. You grabbed the pile of dry clothes and handed it to him. “Go. Change. Now.”

Dabi stared at you for a long moment. The pain he’d first entered the room with was now dulled, replaced by an almost unreadable neutrality that only he could master. Without a word, he took the items, went into his bathroom and closed the door.

As soon as you heard the click of the latch, you let out a long, heavy breath, your cheeks puffed. Your hands were shaking, and you fidgeted with yourself as you waited, a ball of nervous energy ping-ponging inside you with nowhere to go. So, you settled on busying yourself with preparing the medical supplies to change Dabi’s bandages. You were scared to see what it looked like... did he use his flames today and reopen his wounds? Did he kill someone?

A thousand conflicting emotions rattled within you. Relief, gratitude, anger, hurt... It made it feel as if your world was spinning, a sickening tilt-a-whirl and you didn’t know where it was going to land by the time Dabi stepped out of that bathroom. Would you yell at him? Cry?

.... Leave?

You wanted to do all of those things and none of them. Yes, he’d left you, ran off to pursue only God knows what, but you assumed it had something to do with his drugs. He ignored your calls and messages all day, with no explanation. The hot and cold you seemed to be continually dealing with was giving you whiplash, and you could feel yourself finally reaching your limit of tolerance. And you were a very tolerant person.

But he did eventually answer. And he was honest. He didn’t try to lie or conceal. He knew what he’d done, and while he hadn’t apologized for it (yet), you had a feeling that regret and guilt were at least a couple of the emotions you’d seen in his eyes earlier before he’d found the mental strength to protect himself from your perceptive gaze.

Dabi came out of the bathroom topless, the white shirt in his hand, which was just as well. You didn’t have to tell him to sit; he already knew the routine. You went into the bathroom quickly to wash your hands, your eyes taking note of the wet clothes on the floor. He hadn’t bothered to hang them up, and you knew at some point they would start to mildew.

You ignored it, the quiet anger still present in your veins. You weren’t here to baby him. He could deal with that himself when he was feeling up for it.

You came back out, hands clean, and you stared at him for a moment from across the room. He sat quietly on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped forward, his elbows on his knees. He hadn’t even bothered to towel-dry his hair, and it stuck to his face and neck, the occasional curl poking out as it began to slowly air dry. You idly wondered if he could dry his own hair by increasing his body temperature on his scalp...

His back was bare, the bandage gone. The healing wound was exposed, the flesh pink and shining.

“What happened to the bandages?” You asked as you crawled onto the bed behind him.

“It came off in the bathroom,” he replied.

You once again reviewed your supplies next to you before starting. “How’s it feeling?”

“Itchy.”

It was better than hurting, but you still didn’t want him trying to scratch at it. You placed your hands on his back.

Dabi pulled away instantly, shifting forward. “Don’t.”

You sat there, dumbfounded. “...What?”

His head hung low. “Don’t use your quirk.”

You stared at the downward curve of his neck. “Why not?”

“It’s not that bad. I can deal with it.”

Your jaw stiffened but you acquiesced. You began to clean and dress the wound. His body flinched once when you cleaned an infected section of tissue, but it was brief, and he once again settled into stillness.

“So...” you began. “You know I’m going to ask. What happened? Why did you leave this morning?”

The silence stretched for so long, you weren’t entirely sure if he would answer. But you weren’t going to let this go.

“Dabi...” you started, your tone tired.

“A connection of mine hooked me up with a dealer.”

The words weren’t a surprise, but they cut deeper than you’d expected.

“And?”

This silence stretched even longer, and you wondered what he was thinking. Was he figuring out how to tell you the truth? Or was he figuring out how to lie?

You prayed he would give you the truth. And if he wasn’t able to give that to you in his next answer, then you weren’t sure if there would be a friendship left to salvage, regardless of how you felt about him.

“I was only able to get a few pills,” he finally confessed bitterly. His disappointment was so palpable, that you couldn’t help but believe him.

The stone in your chest lifted and you let out the breath you’d been holding.

“How many?”

“Five.”

“That’s it?”

“The guy was an extortionist.”

“Did you take any?”

Another drawn-out pause, like a child wanting to hide the truth to avoid punishment.

“Two.” He finally answered, his voice barely above a whisper, the deep tone almost drowned out by the pounding rain outside.

You held back the sigh you wanted to unleash, knowing he would hear it as judgment. He didn’t need judgment right now. He was being honest with you, which was exactly what you wanted. He was trusting you, which meant there was effort. And effort meant there was hope.

“Were they the same ones you had before?”

“Yeah. But half as strong.”

You remembered how much the original pills were, the way your eyes had bulged. You were eternally grateful he wasn’t able to get access to those again.

“Are they still in your system?”

“No.” There was a small tinge of bitterness in his answer, and you could tell by the way he was sitting, muscles tensed and leg bobbing, that he was once again telling the truth.

“Where are the rest?”

That question seemed to really trigger something. Dabi’s entire body tightened like a rod, and he fell silent.

You waited. And waited. Finally, you got tired of waiting.

“Dabi, I need to know if you have any more on you. I’m not giving you anything until I know that you don’t have them stashed away somewhere.”

His ribcage expanded as he inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. “They’re gone.”

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean they’re gone. I don’t have them anymore.”

You finished his bandage and moved from your spot behind him to begin putting your things away in your bag. Was he lying now? Trying to hide them from you? Is that why he was so tense? It wasn’t like he lost them. Drug addicts didn’t lose drugs. Your heart began to sink again.

“Where did they go?” You probed.

More silence.

“Dabi, please...”

“I-threw-them-in-the-harbor.” Dabi’s words were fast, pushed out much too quickly on a shallow breath.

You halted in your administrations and looked up at him in disbelief. You could see his profile now, see the way his eyes were burning holes into the floorboards. That was when you noticed it – his knuckles were raw and scraped, splinters buried deep into pale skin crusted with blood. His fingers were interlocked, tensing and releasing.

You closed the distance between you and knelt in front of him, prying one of his hands free. Your fingers traced along the edges of his knuckles, careful not to touch the damaged skin.

“And this?” you asked. “How does this fit in?”

Dabi stared at your slowly moving thumb but didn’t pull away.

“I punched a post.” Then as an afterthought he added, “A lot.”

A half smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Did you win?”

Dabi’s eyes finally glanced up and met yours and he couldn’t suppress the short dry laugh that escaped his half-smirked lips. “No.”

You looked back down at his knuckles. “Does it hurt?”

“Fuck yeah it does.”

His humor was cut short by a sudden pain that made him clench his jaw shut and put his hand on the back of his neck as he doubled over. Your fingers were unintentionally crushed in his suddenly too-tight grip, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from pulling away as you waited with him for it to pass. A half a minute later, and his breaths steadied, and he seemed a little weaker, a little... smaller.

“When did you take the last pill?” you asked.

“I dunno. Late afternoon when the sun was still out.”

That was hours ago. And judging by how Dabi was obviously feeling right now, there really wasn’t much left in his system if at all.

So, your pills should be safe now.

You pulled out a small little ziplock bag from your pants pocket, and Dabi’s eyes locked on it instantly.

“Are those...?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied. “I knew I’d probably need to give you some tonight, so I set these aside so I don’t have to go dig through my hiding spot again.” You halted though, pulling the small bag against your chest. “But Dabi... I need you to swear to me. Swear that you don’t have any more pills on you.”

Dabi stared at you. “I swear.”

You stared back at him, long and hard.

Dabi gave a tired sigh. “If I was gonna hide ‘em,, I wouldn’t have told you about them in the first place. You can check all my pockets if it’ll make you feel better.”

Well, he certainly had a point there. And if he really wanted to hide them, he would have taken them and hidden them somewhere in the bathroom while he had changed. Sifting through his pockets wouldn’t make any difference.

But based on his words and the obvious pain he was in, you were satisfied. You pulled out a water bottle. “You have to drink this first.”

There was no complaint, no snarky comment. Dabi took the water bottle and downed it, squeezing the plastic until it was empty.

“...and you know I’m going to make you eat something too.”

That much Dabi did protest.

“I ate earlier.”

“Oh?” you tested. “How much earlier?”

He didn’t answer, and his jaw jutted out stubbornly in a small pout.

“That’s what I thought,” you teased. “Do you want crackers or sweet bread?”

Dabi swallowed as if testing his throat for what he could handle. “Bread.”

You smiled. That was the better choice anyway. You pulled out the prepackaged snack from your bag and handed it to him. He opened it and begrudgingly bit off a chunk and chewed. Once at least half of it was gone, you handed him the pills. He swallowed them gratefully, and then continued to eat the bread.

“Okay, do you want to start with your knuckles or your scars?” you asked.

Dabi finished his bread and set the wrapper aside. “Just my hands. Leave the scars.”

This time it was your turn to be confused. You stared at him in incredulity.

“What? Why?”

He was avoiding your eyes again and it annoyed you. “I don’t want you using your quirk on me.”

This again?? You’d already been through this with him before; why was it coming up now?

You huffed. “That’s ridiculous. We both know the pills aren’t enough. I have to use my quirk.”

Dabi’s hands clenched, fingers digging into the sheets. “No, you don’t.”

You stared at him again, and you could feel the anger bubbling like a geyser. The thinnest of willpower kept it from erupting. He was pushing you away. Again. And this time, you almost wanted to let him. It was three steps forward, two steps back and you were tired of dancing to this tired song.

But you were stubborn too. And you didn’t like the emptiness you felt at the thought of letting him win, of letting him break whatever this was that you had built.

“Why not?” your voice raised slightly, and your throat tightened to keep yourself from truly shouting at him.

But Dabi must have been fighting a similar battle within himself, and he lost it before you did, his blue eyes igniting briefly. “BECAUSE IT’S NOT WORTH HURTING YOURSELF OVER.”

Every fiber in your body froze, your hot words dying instantly on your tongue.

Dabi scowled and averted his eyes. “Because I’m not worth hurting yourself over.”

And just like that, the tension you’d been feeling evaporated. You finally understood.

“This is about last night...” you breathed, “about me over-using my quirk.”

You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to take that on himself, to hold himself responsible for what happened. You’d assumed he’d helped you as a way to return the favor of you helping him before. But it had never occurred to you that seeing you like that had bothered him to this degree.

“If you hadn’t treated me first,” Dabi continued, “you wouldn’t have pushed yourself over the edge for Compress.”

Your expression smoothed. “You don’t know that,” you replied. “Compress was severely injured. It probably would have drained me regardless. That level of pain is... well, it’s beyond what I’m capable of.”

Dabi’s jaw clenched as if he wanted to say more, counter arguments piling behind his teeth, eager to be let loose. Instead, he swallowed them in favor of something different.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “I don’t want it.”

You knew it was a lie. You saw how he melted beneath your hands every time, his body becoming loose and relaxed, his breaths deep and steady. Not like now, where it was bound like a rusted coil ready to break.

Silence stretched long and thick between you as you thought about his words, his actions. The pieces connected into another question.

“Was that why you left this morning?” you asked. “To try to make it so you won’t need my quirk anymore?”

Dabi’s eyes locked with yours and widened slightly as he suddenly fell silent. He hadn’t wanted you to know that, you realized. But you’d pieced it together on your own, and now he was caught. Your gaze on him suddenly felt invasive, seeing more than he had wanted. That combined with realizing how important you were to him made heat flood your skin. You averted your eyes to busy yourself with taking out rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, tweezers, and gauze.

“You know this is temporary, right? “ you said. “It won’t be like this forever. I’m just waiting to hear back from my friend. Once he lets me know your pills are ready, we’ll get them and I won’t have to use my quirk anymore.”

Stubborn silence was his only response and it left you unsatisfied. How could you possibly convince him to let this go? To let you continue to help him? You continued talking, pleading your case as you began cleaning the wounds on Dabi’s hands.

“Here’s what will happen tonight if you don’t let me help. I won’t use my quirk, so I won’t have to deal with my sensory overload. That’s true. But you, on the other hand, will be suffering through the ins and outs of your nerve pain, my pills never quite working the way you need them to. You won’t be able to sleep. You won’t want to eat. And when my pills start to wear off, you’re going to start to feel the withdrawal twice as hard when my quirk isn’t there to soften the blow. The body aches, the headaches, the stomach pains. And that’s just the physical stuff.”

You let your last sentence hang for a moment, the unspoken implication of his inner battles heavy in the air. You prepped the cotton ball with rubbing alcohol and began dabbing at the dried blood and torn skin of Dabi’s knuckles. His hand twitched, but he was silent.

“You’re going to be craving a quick fix all night,” you continued. “And you’re either going to be tempted to come get me in the wee hours of the night, or you’re going to be tempted to go back out there and find it yourself. And maybe you will, and you’ll fix your problem yourself. Or maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll find something worse and end up hurting yourself. Or you’ll get caught.”

You began plucking the splinters out of Dabi’s hand. He was still as a statue now as you worked, not even the slightest flinch as you yanked out splinter after splinter. His lips were sealed shut into a thin line as he listened in silence.

“And all I’ll be doing the entire time is wondering if you’re okay. I won’t be able to sleep. I’ll be sitting up all night, waiting to hear your footsteps walk by my room or hear your knock on my door. And if you leave again, like you did today without coming to me first, and you don’t answer your phone when I call – because you know I will - I’m going to worry all over again, wondering if you’re ever coming back. Wondering if you’ve ODed somewhere, or got caught by heroes, or who knows what else.”

‘Wondering if you broke your promise.’

That last part you kept to yourself, but your eyes began to burn with tears at the thought. You tried your best to blink them away, but they stuck to your lashes like dew drops. You kept your gaze trained on his knuckles.

“Or,” you continued, “you can let me treat you tonight. I’ll be a little sensitive and go bury myself under the covers after I’m done. Sure, there’s the risk that someone else might need my help, but it’s not guaranteed. And if I did end up having to overexert myself again, I know you’d be able to be there for me to help me through it, just like you did last night.

“You won’t have to suffer through your pain anymore, and you won’t have to risk your safety going out there again looking for something that may or may not give you what you need. And,” – your annoyance began to seep into your voice – “most importantly, both of us can finally get some semblance of a fucking proper night’s sleep.”

Your eyes lifted and met his in challenge. “So, I’m going to ask you one more time. Will you let me treat you?”

Dabi stared at you, his blue eyes sharper, more pensive. After a moment, his head tilted slightly, and a single eyebrow arched up slowly beneath his curling bangs.

“Wow,” he finally commented as a slow grin graced his lips. “You said the f-word.”

You stared at him for a moment, stunned. Really??

You realized he was trying to lighten the mood, tease you a little to take some of the pressure off him, but you weren’t having it. You mercilessly yanked hard on an especially deep splinter, and Dabi flinched, his face wincing slightly.

“Don’t avoid my question,” you scolded.

“I’m not avoiding it. I’m thinking.”

“Well think faster.”

Dabi pursed his lips. “You’re angry.” Yank. “Ow.”

“Don’t be a baby. And I’m not angry.”

“You sure about that, doll?”

You stared him down and wrenched out another large splinter.

“Ow! Okay, that one actually fucking hurt.”

Dabi started to pull his hand away, but you yanked it back towards you.

“Suck it up, Buttercup. You’re the one that won’t let me use my quirk. Besides, it’ll hurt worse if it gets infected.”

“You know I could probably just incinerate these outta me, right?”

“And deprive me of this joyful experience?” you replied as you continued plucking. “Don’t even think about it. This is like popping bubble wrap with the added benefit of making you suffer the consequences of your actions.”

A slow grin spread across Dabi’s haggard face . “I think that’s the evilest thing I’ve ever heard you say. And you say you’re not angry...”

“I’m a lot of things, Dabi. I’m relieved, I’m tired, and yeah... maybe I am a little angry. But most importantly, I’m hurt.”

Dabi’s dry humor slipped away into a solemn silence.

“I know,” he said finally.

You sighed heavily and paused in your task to sit back on your heels. “I just... I wish you had trusted me, instead of pushing me away again. I would have understood, you know.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Dabi replied with an annoyed scoff as he leaned back onto the bed with his hands. “You would have tried to stop me, and you know it.”

“I said I would have understood. I didn’t say I wouldn’t try to stop you. Of course, I’d try to stop you, Dabi. Because that’s what friends do, right?” You rubbed at the space between your eyes with your thumb and forefinger. “Or at the very least, I would have gone with you, just to make sure the pills were real and to help you manage them.”

Something flashed in Dabi’s eyes, and he bristled. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Why not??”

“Because it wouldn’t help.”

“You don’t know that-”

“Like hell I don’t. You don’t know the first thing about drug dealing. This isn’t some special friend you get to bat your pretty lashes at and then get everything you want. You’d just be in the way.”

“Excuse me? I do not bat my lashes, thank you very much. Those supplies are bought and paid for.”

“Yeah, with Shigaraki’s allowance. You’re not sitting there negotiating with the stolen bills in your pocket, wondering if your ‘friend’ is trying to swindle you.”

You pursed your lips; he had a point. Still... you were stubborn.

“Well,” you pressed, “I wouldn’t have to do the dealing part, I’d just —"

“No.”

“But Dabi-“

“Stop.”

“If you’d just-“

“Don’t you get it??” Dabi growled, his blue eyes like daggers. Heat began to roll off him, curls of steam lifting from his damp hair. “I didn’t fucking want you there.”

The words were harsh and blunt, and struck you with quick precision. You stared at him, stunned into silence as your heart pounded heavy in your chest. It was the harshest he’d ever been with you, and you could already feel the tears stinging the corners of your eyes as his words implied more than they said.

I didn’t fucking want you there.

....

I didn’t fucking want you.

....

I don’t want you.

His words and his tone had been so jagged that they stuck in your throat like a stone that you couldn’t swallow, and each time you tried, your eyes seemed to brim more and more. You tried to blink them away, to avert your gaze to neutralize your hurt feelings, but it didn’t work. A single tear escaped down your cheek, and you quickly swiped at it as if it’d keep Dabi from seeing it.

But of course, he did. How could he not, when you were inches away from him?

His eyes widened slightly, and the heat in the air vanished instantly. “Shit...” he muttered as he ran his fingers through his hair.

It was not the reaction you were hoping for. Shame and embarrassment filled you, wrapped in a hot blanket of anger.

You took a breath to steady yourself. “Wow...” you muttered.

You began to move away from him, to give yourself space for your wounded ego, but Dabi’s hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist, keeping you close.

“Wait,” he started. “Don’t go.”

Something in his voice made your body halt, the touch of his hand on your skin drawing you back to where you had been crouched in front of him. Once he was certain you wouldn’t abandon him, he relinquished your wrist.

“I didn’t mean....” Dabi’s words died on his tongue as he stared at you, searching for your eyes to meet his. But you didn’t look at him. You couldn’t. You were too angry, your feelings too raw.

It bothered him. Dabi said your name, beckoning you. “...look at me.”.

You shook your head as you stared a small burn spot on his bedding.

Dabi let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair again. “Look. I didn’t mean that. At least not the way it sounded.”

“It sounded like you were being an asshole,” you replied.

Dabi clamped his jaw shut, the muscle twitching slightly.

“Yeah,” he finally replied. “I know. I do that sometimes. I just...”

Dabi fell silent for a long moment, as if gathering his words carefully. You wondered how often he had to do that. You guessed not very much, since he always said what was on his mind without much thought.

After a moment he continued, his words stilted and slow.

“What I meant... is that... you could get caught in the middle... if something went wrong.”

His words were clumsy, but you listened anyway, allowing their meaning to sink in past your guarded heart.

He didn’t want you caught in the middle.

He didn’t want you to get hurt.

He wanted to keep you safe.

Of course. That’s what he’d been saying all along. It was why he left this morning in the first place, and it was why he didn’t want you to use your quirk.

The tension in your body melted away, leaving behind a warmth in your chest that you were afraid to touch. You finally looked up at Dabi, your eyes connecting with his. Once he was satisfied with what he found there, he looked away.

Another long silence passed as you waited for Dabi to gather his thoughts and organize them into words. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter.

“This isn’t easy,” he confessed. “I feel like I’m constantly treading water, on the verge of drowning. And I can’t-”

His word were cut short by a flinch and a grimace as a flash of nerve pain forced him into silence. You held his hand on instinct, and he squeezed your fingers in his palm. Eventually, the pain dissipated, and you waited quietly for him to continue, your hands still connected.

Dabi’s next words were barely above a whisper, but the weight of them made them feel loud. “I... I don’t want to pull you under with me.”

His eyes wouldn’t look at you. They never did when he was sharing something he deemed personal. It was as if the confessions he spilled to the floor were meant to be forgotten instead being held safely in someone else’s hands. Safer to abandon rather than trust another person to cherish.

You wondered how many times he’d said important things when he was young only to have them dropped and abandoned by those he loved.

Your fingers reached out and tightened around his. “I promise you won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“This is my choice, Dabi. I can stop whenever I want. I know my limits.”

His brow furrowed in frustration. “Do you? Like you knew your limits last night?”

You froze. He had you there.

“I... I didn’t have a choice.”

“Maybe not last night with Compress. But you do have a choice with me.”

Another silent pause. You opened your mouth to speak, but you were interrupted by a knock at the door. Both you and Dabi turned to look at it.

“I wonder who that is,” you mused. “Should I answer it?”

Dabi shrugged, glad to have the topic temporarily dropped. “I guess.”

You went to the door and opened it to see Toga on the other side. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her skirt.

“Hi sis,” she said. “I was wondering... do you have...?”

Your eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Yeah, hang on let me get it for you.”

Toga stayed at the doorway and poked her head in briefly. “Hey Dabi!” she waved.

Dabi grunted in response. You raised an amused eyebrow at him; he was so different around everyone else compared to you....

You rummaged through your medical bag before finding what you were looking for. The packaging and circular shape caught Dabi’s eye instantly, piquing his interest.

You handed the birth control to Toga and she took it, hiding it in her crossed arms. “Thanks,” she said.

You closed the door as she left and turned to find Dabi giving you the strangest of looks.

“Was that what I think it was?” Dabi asked.

“It was,” you replied as you walked back to where he sat.

Dabi scrunched up his nose. “Seriously? She’s having sex? Gross.”

You gave Dabi a light shove. “No, doofus. She uses them for protection.”

“From having a baby. So, she’s having sex. God, she’s like, what... fifteen?”

“Seventeen, actually. Will be eighteen in August,” you corrected. You cocked your head at him, your brow furrowed. “You really don’t know...?”

“What?”

You sat back down and returned to pulling the last remaining splinters from his knuckles, your administrations much gentler this time.

“Well,” you continued, “I mean... she’s a young pretty girl, living in the underground, surrounded by, well... villains.”

Realization rose like the morning sun in his bright blue eyes.

“You’re talking about rape.” Dabi stated bluntly.

You stared him dead in the eye. “I am. And all the consequences that could come with that. She’s not exactly someone who could walk into a clinic, is she?”

Dabi looked away. “I guess not.”

“I guess that’s not something you guys usually have to worry about, is it?”

“Getting pregnant? No. Not really.” A heavy silence filled the space before Dabi spoke again, his eyes downcast on his shorts, scarred knees poking out the bottoms. His fingers found a rogue bead of lint and he rolled it between his fingers. “Are you on them too?”

Now it was your turn to look surprised, and your skin felt suddenly hot even though it shouldn’t. “Of course, I am. I probably need to be on it more than Toga, to be honest. At least she can defend herself.”

Dabi’s eyes darkened slightly and the piece of lint smoked briefly between his fingers. When he opened them all that was left was a small spot of ash.

“You never should have joined the League,” he said quietly.

You gave a soft smile. “You worried about me, Dabi?”

His eyes met yours. “....What if I was?” he replied.

Your heart skipped, and you busied yourself by wrapping his hand in gauze. “Well, I’d say that I’m safer here with the League than I ever would be out there on my own. Besides,” you teased, “I have you to protect me.”

You had expected Dabi to smirk and give a flirty retort, or joke about his injury. But instead, for the first time, you saw color rise to his cheeks. He averted his eyes quickly, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, as you tied off the gauze.

Dabi’s hand went up to rub at the nape of his neck. “Why aren’t you still angry with me?”

You raised your eyebrow. “Who said I’m not?”

“You know what I mean.”

You thought quietly before answering. “Well... let’s be honest. You’re a drug addict. And you did what a lot of drug addicts do. You relapsed.”

Dabi’s jaw clenched. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“Really? Are you sure about that?” You tilted your head as you wrapped up the other hand. “It seems pretty important to me...”

“At some point I’m going to run out of second chances.”

“If you were trying to lie and conceal, then I might agree with you,” you replied as you tied the bandage off. “But so far, you’ve been honest with me, and, for whatever reason, you got rid of your pills.”

Dabi visibly stiffened again, and you put your hand up to halt his defenses.

“Look, I’m not going to ask why,” you continued. “ I hope one day you’ll tell me when you’re ready. But for now, it’s enough for me to know that you’re making an effort. I just....” you hesitated before continuing. “I just don’t want to be the reason you relapse, Dabi. It’s not worth it.”

“It wasn’t just for you,” he confessed. “I went because I wanted them.” You could hear the longing in his voice. “Fuck, I still do.”

You placed a hand on his knee and waited, keeping your silence. You suspected there was more he needed to say; you could see it in the way he licked his lips, as if it would help the next words come out easier, in the way his eyes stayed low.

“I’m tired, doll. I’m tired of this room, and I’m tired of this body. I feel like I’m gonna go insane if I have to stay in here another day.”

Dabi rubbed his face with a downward swipe his hand, and you could see the pull of exhaustion in every inch of him. You could feel it mirrored in your own body, in the dull, throbbing ache of your neck and shoulders, the tiredness that never left.

“Just because you want it doesn’t make you a bad person, Dabi.”

Dabi gave a sardonic laugh as his eyes remained downcast. “Maybe not. But it does make me weak.”

You frowned and cupped Dabi’s cheek until he was looking you dead in the eyes. “Dabi, you relapsed. You. Relapsed. That’s not a failure of your character, you understand me? That’s addiction. That’s your brain and body hurting and wanting to fix it the easiest way possible.”

He gave another dry laugh and took your hand from his cheek. “I know, doll. I’ve been through this before.”

“Yeah, but before you were doing it all on your own. At least now you have me.”

Dabi smirked. “You gonna save me, doll?”

“That’s a bit much,” you teased. “I’m just trying to keep you alive for now.”

Dabi laughed. “I guess I did set the bar pretty low, didn’t I?”

You laughed in return.

Your shared lighthearted moment was interrupted by another flash of pain through Dabi’s body. He cradled his arm and doubled over with a low, tired moan. After a moment it subsided and he sat up again, his face once again strained.

“Are the pills helping?” you asked.

“A little,” he replied. “Better than earlier.”

You pursed your lips as you watched how he continued to cradle his arm.

“You know….” You started. “I was thinking…”

Dabi stared at you suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Well, for your nerve pain... is it everywhere? Or are there specific parts that hurt more than others?”

“Hm.” Dabi thought. “It... changes, I guess. But there are some spots that keep coming back.”

“I thought so...” you muttered. “Not all of your damaged nerves are going to hurt. I’m sure most of them don’t feel anything at all. It’s the ones that tried to heal and grew back wrong that make you feel pain the way you do.”

You took his hand in yours, turning it over back and forth as if expecting to find care instructions there.

“I wonder if I can isolate where the damaged nerves are. That way I won’t have to use my quirk as much when I treat you, and you won’t have to worry about me pushing myself too far.” You grinned. “Consider it a compromise.”

Dabi hesitated, his resolve fracturing. It did sound enticing. Especially as another zing of pain laced itself across his back.

“...Fine,” he replied. You reached your hand towards him but he caught it in his grip. “But if it starts to be too much, you stop.”

Your eyes were already scoping over him, assessing. “Yeah, yeah...” you said offhandedly.

He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze , enough to regain your attention, your eyes locking with his. “I mean it.”

You held your gaze with him. “I promise.”

“No lying?”

You couldn’t help but smile as you remembered that familiar phrase you both shared. “No lying,” you replied.

You returned to scanning the map of scars across his skin, your fingers lightly brushing across the staples.

“Where do you usually feel the pain?” you asked.

“In my right leg. The back of the thigh.”

You placed your hands there and let your quirk trickle forth.

“And... my back. Between my shoulder blades.”

You stood and leaned over him to place your hands on his shoulder blades, your quirk seeping from each hand until it connected in the middle along his spine and up into the base of his neck. His body responded instantly, shoulders drooping in relaxation.

“Where else?” you asked.

There was a pause before he responded. “My left arm.”

Inch by inch, you healed all of the places he could remember the needles of pain originating before spreading like wildfire across his skin. And once he’d named every spot from memory, you waited with him silently, until he grunted and buckled against a new wave of pain, a forgotten set of nerves, before naming its location.

“You’re interesting...” you commented as you worked, the low hum of the environment around you sharpening.

“Yeah, I know.”

You lightly flicked Dabi’s forehead. “Smart ass.”

“So abusive today. Don’t hurt me, I’m fragile.”

You rolled your eyes. “What I mean, is that in most cases for burn victims, having nerve pain for third degree burns is rare. Like, really rare. Most of the time, the nerve receptors are completely burned away and the person feels nothing.”

“They weren’t always like this.” Dabi replied as he looked over the scars on his arm.

“I’m guessing that you’ve been damaging yourself slowly over the years, and each time your body tries to heal. Do that enough times over and over, and...” you gestured at him.

“So, what you’re saying is use more fire so that I can completely burn these fuckers away and finally not feel anything. Way ahead of ya, sweetheart...”

“Yeah, except for the whole killing yourself part...”

“Another way to make sure I don’t feel anymore,” he joked.

You pursed your lips into a pout. “Nope, not allowed. Vetoed.”

“You the boss of me now?”

“Remember, the goal is to keep you alive. Low bar, Dabi. Really low bar.”

“But I’m really good at limbo. Flexible. Lots of training.”

“The bar is laying on the floor.”

Dabi humphed. “Cheater…”

You couldn’t help but laugh and Dabi’s grinned. But your laugh was short-lived, lacking its usual luster. You normally didn’t mind dark humor, but this time it was hitting a little too close to home. You hated the idea of Dabi dying and you refused to engage in the thought.

Your eyes got that familiar burning feeling again, and you forced yourself to focus on his skin once again. Once you’d treated all he could identify, you traced your fingers across all of his scars that you could reach, asking if he could feel your touch on them. As you expected, a majority of the nerves were entirely dead from his quirk abuse. It was a select few, five or six hot spots, that had been the cause of all of his troubles.

After you’d checked every visible inch, you sat back on your heels and looked him over. “I think that covers it. What do you think? I mean, I guess we won’t really know until a good twenty to thirty minutes pass...”

Dabi stretched his limbs and moved his head side to side. “Seems fine,” he replied. Then he looked you over, his gaze scrutinizing. “How about you?”

You paused and reflected on yourself. “A little sensitive, but not as bad as before.”

Dabi held out his hand and snapped his fingers at you. The sound reverberated in your skull, like a knock that was too loud, but it didn’t make you cower. Instead, you batted his hands away.

“Knock it off!” you chided.

“Just checking,” he grinned.

Your face brightened with a glowing smile. “I think... I think it worked!”

“Yeah, yeah no need to gloat, smart-ass,” he replied.

“Oh, it’s definitely time to gloat. I win. I win, I win, I win,” you teased. You danced in front of him, your hips swinging side to side and your arms pumping in a silly dance. Dabi grinned at you making a fool of yourself.

One moment you were teasing him, and the next, his arm was around you, and your back was down against the mattress, as air left your lungs in a high-pitched squeak.

“Ah! Dabi!” you yelped.

He had you pinned beneath him, your wrists held in his hands on either side of your head. His hold on you was firm yet gentle, and your sensitive nerves hummed beneath his touch.

“Now I win.” He grinned down at you. “Not so cocky now, are ya?”

All your usual quips dried up on your tongue as your heart pounded in your chest. You were frozen, suddenly painfully aware of how Dabi’s leg was positioned between your own legs, his knee inches from your groin where you instantly felt heat begin to pool.

Dabi froze as well, his grin slowly fading from his lips as his eyes traced over your features. You watched as his pupils dilated and his lips parted slightly. Slowly, his hands moved from your wrists to your palms, his fingers intertwining with yours, making the skin of your palms sing.

You instinctively curled your fingers as shameless hope blossomed in your chest that he might do something – anything. The longing hurt too much, and the way he was looking at you, the way he was touching you...

Your voice was a soft plea. “Dabi...”

The loud, muffled trill of your ring tone erupted from your back pocket, and you jumped, nearly colliding your forehead into Dabi’s nose. Fortunately, Dabi’s reflexes were faster, and he backed off of you swiftly, his hands abandoning yours as if they’d never been there in the first place.

“Shit!” you cursed. You took your phone out of your pocket, your fingers fumbling. You were going to put it on silent, to ignore the call and send it to voicemail. But your eyes widened when you saw the name. “I have to answer this.”

Dabi was already off the bed, pulling his white tee on over his head. You hit the green button, your eyes following him as he retreated briefly to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” replied a familiar voice.

“Yatsumoto,” you whispered. “Why are you calling me so late?”

“You know those pills that I told you would take another week?”

Your heart somersaulted. “Yeah?”

“Well, you got lucky. Really lucky. I made some new connections, and it turns out they’ll be here tomorrow.”

“What?? How?”

“I’m just that good,” he teased.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

Dabi came out of the bathroom and grabbed his bottle of liquor that still sat on his desk, pouring himself a glass. You smacked his arm with the back of your hand and then waved your palm outward in a classic ‘what are you doing?’ gesture. Dabi imitated it back at you with both hands, in a very obvious ‘what??’. You rolled your eyes at him and turned your back on him.

“So, what time can I head over?” you continued.

“I’ll be picking them up in the morning, so come in the afternoon after 2pm and you should be safe.” Yatsumoto replied.

“Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Will your friend be there again? The big guy?”

Obviously not; Toga had no more of that guy’s blood left. You turned and looked at Dabi. Maybe...

“No,” you replied.

You turned around just in time to see Dabi down his glass and refill it half an inch. You walked over and snatched the bottle from his hand. He stared you dead in the eye and drank what was in the glass, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I’ll be coming with someone new,” you continued as you stared Dabi down, your eyes glaring daggers at him.

Dabi raised an eyebrow at you.

“Okay, sounds good. Make sure whoever it is looks less suspicious than the last guy. The concierge was asking questions after your last visit.”

Your skin prickled at that. “Should I be worried?”

There was a loaded pause, then Yatsumoto replied, “No. It’s been handled.”

It sent a chill down your spine. Yatsumoto was a good friend of yours; but he also had a lucrative illegal business to protect.

“Okay. Two o’ clock,” you confirmed. “I’ll see you then.”

“See ya.”

Once you hung up, you took a quick swig of the bottle, wincing as the liquid burned on its way down.

Dabi laughed. “If you wanted some, you coulda just asked.”

“This is mine now,” you scolded, “since you don’t seem to have a modicum of self-control. And that swig was a gift to me for having to put up with your ridiculous behavior.”

Dabi grinned in amusement. “It’s just a couple drinks, doll. To help me sleep. Besides, I can just grab more from the bar downstairs.”

“Do it and you won’t get to come with me tomorrow.”

“Oh? And where are we going?”

“To pick up your pills. They’re ready.”

Dabi’s grin vanished. “That’s not fucking funny.”

“I’m not joking, Dabi. You know I’d never do that.” you replied as you put the cap back onto the bottle. “That’s what that call was about.”

“You said they wouldn’t be ready for at least another week.”

There was almost a bitterness to Dabi’s words, a note of betrayal, and you realized why. If he’d known that this would happen, he never would have left this morning.

You wondered how different things would have been had he stayed.

“That’s what I was told,” you replied, “but apparently he was able to pull some strings.”

Dabi was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his words tinged with hope. “Can we get them now?”

You looked at him in sympathy. “He doesn’t have them yet. He’ll be getting them tomorrow. We’ll go get them in the afternoon. Besides, you’ve already taken my pills. Even if we could get them tonight, you know you wouldn’t be able to take any.”

Dabi’s brow furrowed in frustration and he looked away from you, his palms on his desk. You walked over to him, and the space around him felt hot, electric. You weren’t sure if you were sensing the heat of his quirk, or something else, something that only existed when the two of you were close together...

You recalled how he’d pinned you down earlier, how he’d held your hands... whatever it was, the moment had passed; you knew it wouldn’t be revisited tonight. Even so, the memory of it flavored the air, an undercurrent that you both continued to breathe in without explicitly acknowledging.

You placed your hand on Dabi’s shoulder, and his eyes glanced downward in your direction.

“Get some rest, Dabi. Your body needs it, and it’ll make the time pass quicker.”

He finally lifted his head just enough to look at you, his eyes meeting yours through dark bangs that had now dried from the rain. It was hard to breathe when he looked at you like that; it was as if his eyes somehow inhaled all of the oxygen in the room, leaving you breathless. It was a gaze filled with questions, and dark, secret things that had yet to be unearthed. You could feel yourself being swallowed by it, and for a moment it terrified you.

Dabi opened his mouth to speak, but panic raced up your spine and you stepped back, your hand leaving his arm as your eyes left his, breaking your connection. Every inch of your body felt hot and your heart was pounding, ready to flee.

“Good night, Dabi,” you said softly.

You gathered your things and left the room. As you closed the door behind you, you thought you heard the faintest whisper of a ‘good night’, but you weren’t entirely sure if it was real or your wishful thinking.

Once you’d gotten back safely to your room, you changed into your pajamas and crawled beneath the covers, your mind racing. You weren’t entirely sure why you ran away like that... You’d always thought that you’d be over the moon if Dabi ever reciprocated even a hint of interest in you, and now, after tonight’s events, you had no doubt in your mind that he was interested. But the possibility of it becoming a reality suddenly brought up new fears you hadn’t anticipated. What if the darkness in his eyes, that deep hungry need, stopped only at desire? Or what if everything changed once he got back on his pills? What would happen when he no longer needed you? Maybe he was confusing the ache of loneliness for something else, something you’d told yourself he’d never feel for you. After all, you were two very different people, walking very different paths. You’d always accepted the possibility that your time together would be temporary, regardless of what promises were made in the dark on cold bathroom floors.

Perhaps it was better to wait, to let the impending tides of change happen and see how the sediments of your relationship settle. After all, you’d gotten comfortable with how things were between you, even with the ebb and flow of togetherness and separation that seemed to be a hallmark of being a part of Dabi’s life. And that made the possibility of change, in any capacity, terrifying.

In the darkness, you stared at the open palm of your hand, tracing its lines with your fingers, recalling the feel of Dabi’s skin against them. And when you closed your eyes in the darkness, it was his burning gaze that looked back at you, speaking the single word that you hadn’t let him say out loud.

Stay. ----------------------------------- Chapter 15

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

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC OR ANY OTHER WRITINGS, PLEASE GO HERE TO FILL OUT THE GOOGLE FORM. 18+ ONLY ALLOWED. TAGLIST: @babayaga67 @ladroone @samemec @georgettesand @horsetechie @ajaviary @thegratefulbread25 @lovingandenjoying @jammakesjam @christalcake @moth-baybee @kdadss @stealingyourturts @purplesweethart @reapersbarge @ren-z @dabi-lover @ohh-takuuu @darkovergrownforestnymph @silverrings-n-prettythings @kirisbeltbuckle @wynnsmelody @sleepyfairyxo @noonasaryn @alittlemoth @prettylambs @n0san1tyl3ft @afuturefailure @sleepycrybby @piratequeen-impact @n3cr0p0l1s @ladyinfini @forrest-of-the-fae @here2vibe @dabislittleprincess @dabislittlemouse @zephoncocaine @kowalsqq @lovingandenjoying

#dabi x reader #touya x reader #soft!dabi #dabi #touya todoroki #slow burn #pining #tw:alcohol #tw:drug addiction #tw:drug withdrawal #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #Touch #Touch chapter 14

198 notes · View notes

bippot · 6 months

Note

Pretty please write a Mike Schmidt for me, my sweet dear friend that has made it very clear to me that she's back in her Josh Hutcherson phase? I know that you want to! I'll love you more than I already do ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

I love the Josh Hutcherson renaissance! I've been seeing more Future Man love and content out there and that's great! It's one of my favourite shows. And there something about the FNAF movie that just has crack in it or something cause I've watched it 3 times in the past week.

Summary: Mike and Abby move into a new apartment with a new neighbour, but Mike's old mundane responsibilities still persist. That's okay, his neighbour and her dog are prepared to entertain Abby for as long as he needs.

Additional Tags: Moving, Babysitting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Caretaking, Minor Spoilers, Mike Schmidt Needs a Hug (Five Nights at Freddy's)

Full Masterlist - here

The Schmidt siblings returned to their home after the events at pizzeria and Mike immediately knew that they had to move. The sight of his aunt's dead body on the floor was something that would stick in his brain for a hot minute, and truthfully, he'd seen far too many corpses in the span of 24 hrs than he ever thought was possible.

Vanessa's stabbing and Aunt Jane's murder was reported to the police by the Schmidt's as being done by the same killer - because it kinda was, but also not, but it was thanks to his murderous influence so yeah - although the killer in question hadn't been found when the cops did a sweep of the pizzeria.

So, Mike found a small apartment not that far from Abby's school and they began the process of settling in there. He assumed they'd live in their childhood home until Abby was grown up and wanted to go away to college or get a place of her own, but that wasn't the case.

This new home was smaller and cheaper than the old Schmidt residence, plus it didn't come with a lifetime of memories attached to it. It was an improvement, Mike had to keep reminding himself of that fact as he hauled what few belongings he had left into the back of his car.

All the stuff that wouldn't fit had been sold off and Mike was sad to see a lot of his parents stuff go but it helped him acquire some well needed pocket cash for gas or whatever school supplies Abby needed. Whatever was left was transferred into room 34 of the Greystone apartments.

It was a long process, mostly because Abby was at school and the only other person who'd Mike would ask to help was still recovering. That meant that he had to lift every single box up three flights of stairs since the elevator was currently broken. Or, at least that was what he thought.

After making three trips, door 32 opened and a sweet voice asked, "Would you like some help?" Mike nearly dropped the two boxes he'd stacked precariously in his arms as he spun around to put a face to the voice.

Just his luck! His neighbour was a total babe. To anyone else that would've been excellent news, but to Mike, this ensured that he'd be nervous as hell when entering and exiting his own apartment because his mind would have to be alert in case she wanted to talk to him and get a response that was more than incoherent mumbling.

Look, he wasn't a socially awkward guy. Socially avoidant was the term he preferred. He could hold a conversation with a person, with a woman. With a woman he found attractive on the other hand? Well, he hadn't done that in a while. He was more than a little rusty.

Thankfully, this neighbour didn't seem to notice how weirdly out of his depth he felt. Instead, she nodded towards the boxes he'd been piling outside his front door. "Need a hand with those?" she inquired, voice smooth and melodious like an angel.

He swallowed hard, feeling stupid, but somehow answered anyway, "If you don't mind, yeah, please." It came out sounding like he was choking on his words which, given that he had formed coherent sentences in her presence, was the best he was going to get for now.

"Do you have a U-haul truck full?"

"I, uh, folded the seats down of my Accord and shoved, yeah, shoved e-everything in the back."

"Oh. Smart." She closed her door and gestured for them to start walking towards the exit, and he was happy to oblige. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"Mike."

Mike wanted to say something, to strike up some really interesting conversation that would have her hanging onto each word he said with rapt attention - but his words died before he could utter them. There were just... no words, no topic of choice, nothing. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. If he tried to speak, he might choke and die.

That would be bad. Really bad.

Y/N didn't seem to mind. She could talk for the both of them, it seemed. Honestly, he wasn't sure what she was saying. He wasn't focused on that. No, he was focused on everything else about her, every movement, every breath, the way her hair fell in her eyes, the way her lips curled into a half smile whenever she made a joke and how it curled even farther up when she laughed. He couldn't stop staring.

Sometimes, he felt like he was a bit of a weirdo. It was a conscious effort of his to notice as much as he possibly could about someone he's meeting for the first time and doesn't understand yet, but there were times - far too many times - when he zeroed in on details that didn't need that much scrutiny. Like, why did she have a very faint scar on the inside of her right bicep? Or pen on her left wrist? Or why was she looking at him like she had asked a question and was waiting for him to respond?

Oh. Because she had asked a question and was waiting for him to respond.

That'll do it.

"Sorry, I totally spaced out. What, umm... what did you say?"

"I asked which car was yours."

It was obvious. It was the Honda they were standing in front of that was filled with cardboard boxes.

"Yeah, this is it. Here we are. This is my car."

"You don't say."

Before Mike could stop himself, he rolled his eyes. It was a good natured, amused roll, but a roll nonetheless. He smiled to himself as he opened the boot and began taking out all the boxes he deemed worthy of carrying to his apartment on this trip.

Together, they got everything from the car into his apartment without too much fuss. It took a while so there had been a few awkward silences, but Mike was slowly progressing in his effort to talk to her without tripping over his feet and ending up flat on his ass. He managed to get his words out without making a complete idiot of himself. It was slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

By the time his belongings were safely in his apartment, it was time to pick Abby up from school.

"To say, to say thank you, would you - you can say no, obviously, - Abby and I are going to order pizza for dinner as a celebration of this place. And because we don't have any groceries yet. If you'd like to, yeah, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you wanted to join us?" he blurted out in one large breath as they stood in their opposite doorways, half in half out of their living rooms.

"I'd love to, but I'm busy...doing things. Doing stuff."

"Oh. Yeah, of course. Maybe, yeah, maybe another time, then?"

"Uh... Sure, sounds good."

They both looked awkward, and neither of them moved for a beat too long until Mike realised that if he didn't leave soon, he was going to be late for pick up. He gave her one final shy wave before rushing to the stairwell.

Abby wasn't told about the nice, pretty girl from next door that he'd been an idiot in front of so when they'd returned from grocery shopping the very next day and Mike was talking to some lady in the newly fixed elevator, she was a little confused. Because she knew her brother. Her brother didn't get people he'd never spoken to before to smile at him like that.

"Hi Mike," Y/N greeted softly as they approached, giving the dachshund at her feet a gentle tug so he'd give the siblings more space to stand. "I'm guessing you went grocery shopping."

Correct. The hand that wasn't holding Abby's had three heavy grocery bags in it.

"Y/N, hey!" Her brother grinned in a way Abby had never seen before. His cheeks flushed slightly and he cleared his throat, his grin turning shy. "This is Abby. This is my sister Abby."

Something akin to relief flashed across Y/N's face. "Nice to meet you, Abby. Mike mentioned you yesterday, but he didn't tell me how cool your shoes are." She crouched down to pretend to get a better look. "Cupcakes are cool."

Abby giggled at the compliment and pushed her nose into Mike's side. She wrapped her fingers around the edge of her brother's bicep and at the fabric there so he'd lean down for her to whisper in his ear. "She asks, can she pet your dog please? Pretty please?" he repeated. "Why she couldn't ask you, I don't know."

"Tater here would love to be petted."

On cue, Tater barked excitedly and wagged his tail at the prospect of being fussed over. Abby cooed loudly and reached out her hand to pet his head. As soon as her fingertips touched his fur, he leaned into her touch and licked her hand enthusiastically. Abby shrieked in delight at the attention, her small hands flailing wildly for a second before reaching out to stroke Tater's ears. Mike could see the joy in the kid's bright eyes and it sent warmth pooling in his chest.

With Abby occupied, Y/N felt the need to clarify, "I was under the impression yesterday that Abby was your girlfriend."

"Ew, gross."

"That's why I was weird about the pizza. I didn't want to third wheel, you know? Sorry I jumped to a completely wrong conclusion."

At that, the corners of Mike's lips twisted upwards. His shoulders relaxed a fraction as he breathed a quiet sigh. Thank God he didn't weird her out with his odd behaviour.

"No, no, I get it. I'm a guy and I mentioned a girl. It...it makes, well, it makes sense to jump to conclusions, actually." A spark of boldness appeared all of a sudden and forced him to inquire, "Would you have stayed if I had made it very clear that Abby is ten years old and my sister?"

"I would've." Y/N replied instantly. Not missing a beat, she added, "I love free pizza," with a smirk.

Ding. They reached their floor and went their separate ways for now. Abby had to be told quite a few times to stop stroking Tater and come inside, but she was reluctant to. That dog had charmed her to the core, it seemed. Eventually, Abby reluctantly complied and followed her older brother into their apartment.

No more than ten minutes later, Y/N heard someone knocking on her door and opened it to find little Abby on the other side all by herself. "Hey Abby, you okay?" Y/N asked with a warm smile.

"Can I play with Tater some more please?" The little girl put on the most cutesy, pleading smile she could muster and batted her eyelashes in order to make it all the more convincing.

"Did you ask your brother?"

"He's in the shower."

So that's a no. Y/N pursed her lips as she thought of a response. Obviously, Mike would freak out if the child in his care was at a stranger's place without his permission. She had no idea about Abby's temperament either. Would she scream and shout if she wasn't given what she wanted? Would she beg? Or would she just be content and go back to whatever she had been doing in her own home?

"Let me just get a lead." Y/N disappeared from view for a minute and Abby was fully prepared for disappointment so she opened the door to her apartment, just listening for the sound of Y/N's door locking. Yet, she was soon reappearing with the weiner dog on a leash.

The pair sat in their opened doorways and fussed over Tater with enthusiasm only children possessed, ignoring the occasional looks from their neighbours who had to step over the situation to get to their homes. The corridor was filled with girly giggles and the occasional happy yap from the puppy as it happily accepted each scratch and pat Abby gave him.

Mike came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and was fully expecting to walk into his room to get changed directly afterwards. That didn't happen straight away. He noticed the opened door before the chatter and rushed to check that his sister was safe and still in the confines of their new home.

Maybe she was talking to those dead kids again. That was not something he needed right now.

"Abby?" he called out tentatively, but upon hearing no response other than more giggles, Mike stepped closer to the door and was rather confused as to why his sister was sitting in the doorway.

Y/N's eyes widened the moment sexy, dripping wet Mike appeared in view. She gulped nervously and took in his attire for a split second, trying her best not to stare too openly at his body. It was a struggle at best and she had to take a deep breath.

"Look Mike, Tater can do tricks!" Abby cheered happily when she noticed her brother coming closer. "Tater, play dead."

The dog did exactly as the girl said and rolled onto its back, exposing his belly in a way that was just asking for rubs. And Abby was overjoyed to give them to him. Mike couldn't help chuckling at the sight of his sister, who he was pretty sure had instigated all of this, laughing like crazy as she scratched Tater behind the ear, his tongue hanging out of his mouth while he let out pleased barks.

"You're such a good boy," she praised, patting his head gently and causing the dog to roll over again. "Can we get a dog?"

"Well, uh-" He paused, "Can we have this conversation when I have clothes on?" The girl frowned but nodded her head nonetheless. "Great. I will do that then. I'll get some, uh huh, I will stop being so naked now. I promise."

Subtly, Y/N hid her laugh behind her hand as she watched the scene before her unfold. It was adorable watching him struggle to find words.

Sitting together and playing around with Tater in their doorways became a daily occurrence for the girls. Abby would get home from school and count down the minutes till Y/N came back from work, only to turn to look at her brother expectantly. "Can I?" she'd ask every time, and he'd say yes every time. It became a routine between them, one that gave Mike free time to look for a new job.

And eventually, he did find one. It wasn't exactly ideal. The hours were long and overlapped with after school time, but it was in the day, and it ensured that they'd get 20% off their groceries. The supermarket in town was looking for shelf stockers. The pay wasn't spectacular, but it was liveable. There wasn't much customer interaction. His main focus was to refill the shelves and that was it, nothing beyond that.

No animatronics. No ghost kids. No serial murderers - as far as he knew. And definitely no Balloon Boy.

Originally, he wasn't going to take the job. But, he happened to mention it to Y/N one day and she immediately tried to squash his worries. "I can pick Abby up from school on my way home from work and she can hang out here until your shift is over. No biggie," she reasoned, placing her hand reassuringly against his bicep and flashing a smile at him. Mike was hesitant, at first.

On the other hand, Abby was not. She loved being in Y/N's apartment. It looked nicer than their apartment because Y/N had decorations and nicknacks to look at, and a sofa that was far more comfortable than the old, busted one they had, and Tater was there with all his toys and treats. And Y/N had cable too so that meant they could watch Malcolm in the Middle when it was on.

Abby was planning to grab onto this opportunity with both hands as soon as it presented itself.

Y/N arrived at Abby's school and was greeted by the child running towards her excitedly. Her backpack thumped along on her back loudly and her curls jumped as she bounced up and down, clearly very excited to spend her evening with Y/N (primarily Y/N's dog, but hey).

"Hi Y/N!"

"Hi Abs, you ready to go?"

She nodded frantically, a huge grin forming on her cheeks as she handed Y/N a piece of paper. "I drew this for you!" she informed proudly, pointing to a cute little drawing of a very familiar looking puppy curled up in his doggy bed.

Looking at the drawing, Y/N's eyes softened. "Wow! Thank you! It's really, really really good," she praised with genuine happiness as she ruffled the top of Abby's head. "Do you think Tater will like it? Shall we show him?"

That question was all it took to convince the girl to be well behaved and not complain about traffic they had to sit through to get home. She just bobbed her head along to the radio softly, tapping her feet along to the beat on the ground. By the end of the journey, she even began humming to the tunes, making sure to keep her voice quiet enough that she thought Y/N wouldn't be able to hear her singing. Y/N could.

"I missed you!" Abby squealed as soon as she saw the dog lying on his side asleep by the living room couch. She quickly hopped on the floor next to him and started stroking his soft fur. "Tater, wake up so we can play," she whispered, petting him under his chin and hoping he might at least stir awake. After a few more seconds, he finally stirred awake, his little tail swinging from side to side the moment he realised who was stroking him.

Tater attacked Abby with wet, sloppy dog kisses, causing her to giggle uncontrollably at every lick. Y/N stood beside the couch and laughed at the scene before her. The little girl was a picture of pure joy as Tater licked and slobbered all over her face, causing her to fall backwards onto the carpeted floor and cry out in delight.

If anyone deserved to be spoiled rotten, it was Abby. In fact, both of the remaining Schmidts deserved to be fussed over and Y/N was prepared to do just that to them for as long as they allowed her to.

Mike arrived home from his shift at the grocery store tired and sore. Most of his day had been spent lifting boxes from the storage room out onto the floor with only a single person helping him. And it hadn't helped that his coworker was an older lady - she was kind to him but there was no way she was carrying half of this shit - so he literally did all of the heavy lifting. His back ached badly, which didn't help his mood in the slightest.

However, as he entered Y/N's apartment - they no longer knocked and just walked in these days - and was faced the sight of Abby grating cheese at the kitchen counter as Y/N warned, "Careful of your fingies, don't wanna accidentally cut yourself. Take it slow, honey."

A sweet smile stretched across his lips as he closed the door behind him and made his way towards the two women. Neither of them seemed to notice, clearly too engrossed in preparing their dinner to see as he silently leant against the kitchen door frame and watched them carefully.

At some point, Y/N had braided Abby's hair and obviously Abby wanted to return the favour but wasn't all that good at it as the end of Y/N's locks were all bushy and tangled, the ends curling up into knots and sticking out from underneath the bobble. He chuckled to himself quietly, thus gaining the attention of the both of them instantly.

"How long have you been there, creeper?" Abby asked, giving her brother a dirty glare and earning her a chuckle from him once more.

"Long enough," he replied and shrugged his shoulders. "What are we cooking?"

"Y/N's teaching me how to make Cowboy Pie."

His eyebrow raised in amusement. "Is that so?" he hummed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do you never want to help when I cook, huh?"

"You don't cook. You just heat stuff up."

"Oh yeah? I see how it is," he snickered, but was quick to ask, "Well, you two need any help?" and turned his gaze to Y/N, who simply shook her head.

"Go relax. We've got this," she said dismissively, waving him away with the wooden spoon still in her hand. "Don't we, Abs?" She poked the nodding girl in the cheek affectionately. "See? Everything is alright. Go sit with Tater."

She gave him a gentle push with her hip, prompting him to move into the living room without another word. He sat on the couch and placed his bag by his feet, letting out a huge sigh as his ass hit the soft cushion. He rested his elbows on his knees, placed his chin on his palms and leaned forward so he could see into the kitchen.

Watching the duo cook together was mesmerising. A warm feeling filled his chest and spread throughout his entire body - like fire but not uncomfortable, more comforting, like home. Y/N had such a loving smile on her face while Abby looked content and beamed whenever she was allowed to stir the pot or throw in the ingredients. They were like peas in a pod, Y/N taking care of everything and doing all the things that included knives while Abby tried to follow instructions.

He was completely lost in the scene in front of him until something small and furry pressed itself against his leg. He glanced down and smiled upon seeing the dachshund's black nose pressing up against the side of his pant legs. The dog wagged his tail and then looked up at him, staring with his wide brown eyes, almost pleading for attention. Mike couldn't say no to Tater so he bent down to scratch gently behind his floppy ears.

"Hiya, boy," he murmured happily. "Us guys have got to stick together, right? Can't let the girls boss us around now, can we?" Tater barked and wagged his whole body as if to agree with him.

That meal had to be the best he'd ever had, or at least remembered having. It was mainly potato, sausage, beans and cheese, but somehow, they'd managed to make it taste extra good. Tater was given a sausage or two, so he was beyond happy and fell asleep directly after dinner.

Abby was in a similar state. She'd cleaned her plate then asked for more, which was fine because there was leftovers for her to get through. Her belly was full and she was exhausted, so that meant she could probably sleep through the night. She even fell asleep against Mike's shoulder half way through the episode of Family Feud.

Honestly, Mike was close to dozing off too but kept himself awake long enough to pick his sister up and carry her to her bed. "She's out like a light, how did you do that?" he asked Y/N curiously, his arms wrapped around Abby so she didn't fall out of his grip and slump to the corridor floor.

"It was all Tater," she joked, gesturing towards the passed out puppy lying on his back between the gap between the two couch cushions. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah please."

"Goodnight Mike," Y/N smiled, moving in to peck his cheek before disappearing behind her door.

Once she was gone, Mike released a large exhale through his nose, his eyes now wide open and fixed on the crooked 32 number plate on the wood. He wiggled one hand free and straightened it up, then brought his fingertip to where her lips had just been on his skin and smiled faintly.

"Goodnight Y/N."

Every day was similar to that one - obviously there were slight variations where Abby didn't eat as much, or Tater decided to be yappy that day, or Y/N didn't feel like cooking and ordered something in, or Mike was grumpier - but they were all better than before. Their lives weren't exactly perfect, but this was close enough, really.

For now.

"My boss offered me some more hours, just in time for the holidays - and it's a big upgrade in pay -"

"That sounds great, Mike. What's the 'but'?" Y/N frowned as she placed some freshly cooked lasagna on a plate and placed it in front of Mike.

"It's night shifts and a weekend or two." He shoved a fork full into his mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing and continuing, "You've done so much already and asking you to look after Abby for the entire night... it's too much, you shouldn't have to-"

"Mike-"

"I'll pay you. I promise. Abby told me she wants that Robotic Puppy thing for her present and that's $40 and I said I get that for her to make up for the fact I won't let her get a real dog. Factor in groceries. And bills. And..." he began mumbling to himself, working out all the math in his head. He'd never been all that good at maths.

There was a beat of silence before Y/N let out a small chuckle. "Mike," she sighed again, placing her hand gently on top of his, "It's okay. Really, it is. This isn't a big deal at all. I love spending time with Abby and she loves sleepovers."

Recently, there had been a development in Abby's social life; one that involved more hanging out with her friend outside of school. The new friend had been a late addition to the class and was rather shy, so when she spent her time reading right next to where Abby was drawing, they began their quiet friendship.

"And the weekends?"

"Well, I get Sundays off and Saturdays she can come to work with me. There's always a bunch of kids her age in the library on Saturdays. Yeah, it's all the nerd kids," Y/N explained with a laugh whilst pouring two glasses of wine and handing one to Mike. "Relax, Mikey."

With a final deep breath, he nodded his head, his expression changing as he took a sip of wine. "Okay," he breathed and smiled softly. "Thank you. For today. And last week too. And all the times before that."

"Yeah, no problem," she shrugged casually and sipped from her glass as well, trying her hardest to keep the flush off her face.

Working nights again was not something Mike thought he'd ever do again, yet this time, the scenery was far less alive. No, instead it was just dark and cold. And this time, he actually had job responsibilities and couldn't fall asleep at a desk. He had to lift and sort and clean and sweep and tidy and organise and price check and restock. It was boring, mind numbing and absolutely exhausting and he just wanted to go home to sleep and forget about it all.

What was waiting for him when he got home was something else. Something different, something better.

After putting Abby to bed, Y/N had fallen asleep on the living room sofa, a blanket draped around her and a book about to slip from her fingers. Mike knelt beside the couch and grabbed the book and placed it on the coffee table before giving in to the temptation to brush her hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips linger on her cheek.

"Mike?" Y/N murmured, her eyelids fluttering slightly as her eyes met his own, causing him to bolt away and stand up straight.

"Oh! Sorry," he stuttered, clearing his throat. and scratching at his cheek with a little too much force. "Um, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

Y/N yawned and stretched, leaning on her elbow and resting her head on her hands as she regarded him. "How was work? Anything interesting happen?" she asked quietly, her voice still sounding sleepy. She ran a hand through her messy hair, messing it up even more and looking adorably groggy, and he had to admit it was kinda hot.

"Not really. The same as usual just at night, I guess."

A hum left her throat and she closed her eyes briefly. When they opened again, they were glimmering with sleepy tears, making them sparkle beautifully. His heart swelled with so much emotion, he couldn't help but stare at them and sigh.

"Abby is -" She yawned again. "Abby's is in my bed. You can leave her there if you want," she murmured, her voice fading to barely a whisper. "You tired? You look it."

"Yeah."

Thanks to the darkness of the room and the bagginess of his clothes, he had the same general shape of a teddy bear - all soft and curly with big brown eyes. That paired with Y/N sleepy kind of not fully woken up state meant that she whispered, "Come here," and held her arms open invitingly. He hesitated for a moment, before finally deciding that he couldn't turn this opportunity down. He crawled onto the sofa and lay down next to her, putting as much distance in between their bodies as he could, which wasn't a lot.

It would've felt awkward to anyone else, but for the two of them it was natural; comfortable and intimate. Y/N snuggled up next to Mike until her head rested comfortably on his chest and he put an arm around her, pulling her as close as possible.

"Y/N?"

"Hmmm...?" she hummed sleepily, her hands coming up under her chin on his chest, looking up at him through her lashes. He looked at her, mesmerised by the gentle glow of the light emanating from the tv screen behind him, before gazing down at her lips, feeling a blush creep up on his neck. He licked his lips nervously and swallowed thickly before he could think twice about what he was going to say next.

"I like you," he admitted bluntly without any preamble, and his eyes widened slightly as soon as the words were uttered. They flew past the tip of his tongue, begging to leave him, and the truth was out there now. In the open and therefore there was no backing out. "Jesus, that made me sound like a middle schooler."

Y/N blinked several times, processing what he said, before smiling warmly and reaching up and stroking his cheek gently. Mike's eyes fluttered shut at her touch, and he leaned into her hand with a contented sigh. "I like you too," she whispered, her smile growing wider and her thumb brushing along his cheek bone tenderly.

"So, um, should we maybe..." he started awkwardly, unsure where he wanted things to go from there.

"In the morning?"

"Good idea."

They fell asleep almost immediately after saying goodnight, holding each other tightly as they slept in a dreamless slumber. A slumber that was cut short when Abby woke them up with a very loud gasp, waking the both of them up. They rubbed at their eyes with the heels of their palms and looked over at Abby who stared at them with wide eyes.

Cheeks flushing red under his sister's scrutiny, Mike burrowed his face in Y/N's shoulder, who just chuckled and curled her hand into his curly hair.

"What's the time, Abs?"

"7:23" came the reply as she pointed at the digital clock on the wall above the TV.

Mike let out a groan of annoyance and pushed his nose further into Y/N. It seemed that once he got some affection, he didn't want to let go. She didn't seem to mind though and laughed softly, shifting a bit to accommodate him.

Or was it to accommodate Abby?

Because Y/N offered, "Well, it's Sunday and there's enough space for three so wanna join, honey?" and Abby was jumping at the chance, clambering on the couch until the girl was lying entirely on top of her brother like a weighted blanket that got slightly heavier as Tater joined in too and curled up between his knees. He grunted at the unexpected cuddle pile but got used to it quickly.

"What do you want for breakfast when we get up?" Y/N asked Abby, stroking her hair away from her face as the child yawned.

"Pop Tarts?"

"I second that," Mike mumbled.

"Pop Tarts it is then," Y/N agreed with a small nod

Somehow, life had got even better.

#mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader #five nights at freddy's

84 notes · View notes

fuckitwebhaal · 6 months

Text

I, like @mightymizora , will take a brief moment tooooo plug my own fanfics!

missing the mark (bg3)

Halcyon, the Dark Urge, is a very busy man as the High Primaster of Bhaal's church. Being on time for a meeting with his new ally, Enver Gortash, is a difficult task when everyone seems to be intent on stopping him from doing so. When he finally arrives, he wants to make a reverent display out of his associate.

(8.1k words, nsfw, DD;DNE)

“I haven’t even read it yet but I need you to know I read the tag “fingering the stigmatussy” and Literally Screamed Aloud.”

memento mori (bg3)

Enver Gortash interrupts Adin'hrae--The Dark Urge--during a busy evening to make a request of him. Smut ensues, but it is not loving or warm.

(2k words, nsfw)

“I told you this but I LOVE their fucked up weird little dynamic. I want them to kill each other, I want them to FUCK, I want Gortash to see Adin'hrae in his post-tadpole era and SCREAM at the fact that Adin'hrae forGOT HIM???”

i betray you like a man (bg3)

The Dark Urge -- a tiefling named Gabriel with no memory beyond a bruised ego and a honed instinct to kill.

The Morningstar -- an aasimar named Bedivere whom has been locked away in a monastery for nigh on twenty years.

Bound by inscrutable fate and the deeds of men who play at being gods, they are brought together after a fateful nautiloid crash upon the Sword Coast. From there, it is a race against the clock to uncover the cure for tadpoles that plague their company, and the truth of the bloody past that Gabriel has left trailing behind him. Whispers from dark urges plague his mind, while the earnest pleas of Lathander guide Bedivere's steps. Time and fate are both poised against them.

(8.7k words, ongoing, slowburn)

“You know how I feel about your writing already, but I'm going to say it here too, it's delicious. Your characters, the atmosphere, the immediate feeling of place and person - on top of that handling of the gods? Lathander a familiar mortal shape but not at all mortal. Vere and Gabriel stitched firmly into the tapestry of a far wider plan and suffering for it (as I am, I am hurting). You know I've got my eyes peeled for more, I always do 😌”

say yes to me (bg3)

Minor spoilers for Gale's Act 1 Romance scene. Piety decides that he wants to return the favor, and they decide the best way to do so is to show Gale his feytouched magic.

(1.8k words, fluff, yearning)

“okay it was cute. catch me giggling a little. i think they should probably kiss. stat.”

born again in blood (da:o)

'He looked down at the chalice in his hands; blood, tainted. He looked up at the statue of Andraste that peered down upon them all. He thought of her when she died a martyr. He thought of his mother, lifesblood, the breath she gave for him at birth. He thought of himself, a child, blood-red and slick from between his thighs. He parted his lips and drank deeply.'

A mostly canon-compliant take on the events of Dragon Age: Origins that follows the path of my Tabris warden; how he deals with the weight of responsibility while trying to figure out his own identity in the midst of a crisis. Picks up post-City Elf Origin.

(32.9k words, ongoing, angst)

“The insight into Mahanon’s will to live despite everything - and because of everything - is so engaging and adds so much depth to the story!!”

#teehee #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur’s gate 3 #dragon age #dao #dragon age origins #fanfic #fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #dragon age fanfiction

34 notes · View notes

haruhar-u · 4 months

Text

Nothings New

C/W: Link Click season 2 spoilers, Minor gore, gun violence, angst

Tagging my link click moots: @the-banana-0verlord @keii-starz @averagetoyakinnie

A/N: This my first time writing for Link Click so I apologize for any ooc. As well as tag it’s my firs time in a while writing third person. I cried writing this fic. Also this fic can be interpreted as platonic or romantic

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*

Lu Guang lost count of the amount of dives he’s been through. Dive after dive the result was always the same, nothing’s new. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s broken his own rule. Leave the past and future be. Like he could. He didn’t want to try to live without Cheng Xiaoshi. Lu Guang couldn’t let him be buried 6 feet under, cold, alone and in the dark.

Laying on the top bunk with the gentle woosh of the fan and the occasional grumble from Cheng Xiaoshi snoring below him, Lu Guang closed his eyes.

As he drifted off into sleep, he suddenly heard a loud bang like a gunshot. He was dreaming he ought to be. He opened his eyes to be only cradling Cheng Xiaoshi in his arms. Lu Guang’s heart felt as if it’s going to beat out of his chest while Cheng Xiaoshi’s was doing the opposite. The colour slowly drained from Cheng Xiaoshi’s face as the uncanny warmth of crimson blood seeped through his varsity jacket. Frantically, Lu Guang applied pressure to the wound as a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding.

“Why do you attempt to save him, only to fuck up the timeline. Let him go ” The voice came from Cheng Xiaoshi’s mouth, his body. However, this voice. It was chillingly cold. It wasn’t Cheng Xiaoshi’s.

Before Lu Guang could even process what the voice had told him, he jolted awake, sitting up with a cold sweat running down his forehead. Cheng Xiaoshi was half up the ladder, only the upper half of his torso being seen. He smiled gently as he saw Lu Guang wake up. Or at least that’s what Lu Guang thought he saw through the darkness of their bedroom.

“I was trying to wake you for like 10 minutes. You kept muttering things. I couldn't make out what.” Cheng Xiaoshi told him.

“I thought you died…” Lu Guang muttered just loud enough for Cheng Xiaoshi to hear him. Still in a panic from his nightmare.

“Died?” Cheng Xiaoshi cocked his head at Lu Guang before reaching out to grab Lu Guang’s hand and put it up to the left side of his chest. Lu Guang could feel a heartbeat, probably a normal pace yet strong as it should be. “See? It’s still beating and won’t stop! You don’t have to worry about me!”

Cheng Xiaoshi was right. It won’t stop beating. Lu Guang will make sure of it, no matter how many dives it takes, no matter if it takes a hundred years to him. Cheng Xiaoshi’s heart will continue to beat.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*

Please do not re upload (reblogs are okay and appreciated)

please do not put any of my work into AI

#Link click #link click season 2 #time agents #shiguang daili ren #cheng xiaoshi #lu guang #link click Lu guang #link click cheng xiaoshi #link click angst #link click season 2 spoilers #Cheng xiaoshi and Lu guang #cheng xiaoshi x lu guang

27 notes · View notes

aftgficrec · 2 hours

Note

Favorite Neil/Jean or Neil&Jean fics?

In the aftermath of the publication of The Sunshine Court the relationship between Neil and Jean has been put under the spotlight a little more (no spoilers here though!), but there have always been authors who have shown this combo the attention it deserves. In addition, many fics under our raven!neil tag feature friendships or relationships between Neil and Jean. - S

Previously recommended:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

close friends Neil & Jean here

BFFs Jean & Neil here

Neil/Jean tumblr fics and headcanons here

‘Afterthoughts Chapter 68’, ‘Jean, Neil, and Kevin hanging out’ here (plus some more Neil & Jean under previous recs)

‘not very good at this’ here

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Neil/Jean fics here (you can also find a link to our Neil/Jean tag here)

More Jean/Neil fics here

‘we’ll survive, you and i’, ‘Heart on Your Sleeve, Eyes on the Street (the Heart-Eyes Remix)’, and ‘Doves & Ravens’ here

Some of our favourites from previous posts:

Your humble and silky life by moonix [Rated G, 3582 words, complete, 2019, locked]

Jean’s life these days is quiet, uneventful. His best friend has a hopeless crush on the unattainable Minyard, Jean’s colleague at the botanical garden. Jean has a standing appointment every week with the most beautiful woman in the world, who is happily married to someone else—but that’s okay. There’s still Jeremy the waiter, whose smile is the highlight of Jean’s week.

tw: animal death

Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner by nekojita [Rated E, 644156 words, complete, 2018]

When Wymack, Kevin and Andrew came to recruit Neil Josten in Millport, Neil decided to say 'no' instead of 'yes' to joining the Foxes and does what he does best, which is run. Unfortunately, that brings him to the attention of the Moriyamas, who return him to his 'rightful' place. Now Neil has to learn how to survive at the Nest with his only ally another 'asset' long kept under Riko's heel.

tw: violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: dubcon, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks, tw: drug use, tw: alcohol, tw: minor character death, tw: homophobia, tw: involuntary outing

Apart from Your World (A Part of Mine) by ApprenticedMagician [Rated T, 17647 words, complete, Aftg Big Bang 2018, locked]

David is shipping him off to the Isle of Anglesey and, frankly, Neil could use the time and distance away from an ugly break-up that still hasn't smoothed over. The problem is, if he isn't being reminded of his ex (courtesy of working alongside his identical twin brother), then he's being reminded of the mother who abandoned him (courtesy of their assigned patient who suffers the same affliction she once did). All around, it's shaping up to be anything but the trip he signed up for.

tw: references to past abuse

NB: find art for this fic by @llheji here

So Keep Your Heart On Your Sleeve (And Keep Your Eyes On The Streets) by CasTheButler [Rated T, 4162 words, complete, Aftg Winter Exchange 2018]

Cause it's a God damn long drive fall, Back to normality. Jean starts at a new school on a new soccer team, makes some friends, and spends the whole time falling in love with a punk. Written for the 2018 AFTG Winter Exchange.

tw: panic attacks

And here are some fics we haven’t rec’ed yet:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

Je crois en la chance de rejoindre la mer by Elyant [Rated T, 2007 words, complete, 2021, locked]

Part 4 of The Devil Makes Three

Jean has chosen the café whose tables were closest to the large windows overlooking the tarmac. After spending so many years underground and under the harsh fluorescent light of the Nest, he doesn't think he will ever have enough of the natural warmth of the sun. A duffle bag of clothes that are too new to feel like his, the tin of home-baked cookies Renee thrusted into his hands before he left, and a small package wrapped in kraft paper are his only baggage. He's waiting for a plane from London to land because of a phone call he received a few nights before. He is therefore purposefully two hours too early for the flight that will take him to South California, to meet the team in crimson and gold that will become his family, even if he doesn't know it yet.

tw: implied/referenced abuse

from rain by ratbandaid [Rated T, 62807 words, complete, 2023]

Over time, Jean grew unsure as to why he'd been so intent on running from the mafia. He barely took care of himself and could hardly call whatever he was doing living. After all, he knew that one day, he'll be caught and dragged back, kicking and screaming, to be killed or worse: put back in the hands of Riko Moriyama. But when a snot-nosed, cocky brat, Neil, stumbles into his life, Jean slowly realizes what he's running for.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: violence, tw: nightmares

based on this art by @estavs

NB: This one contains slight spoilers for The Sunshine Court:

epic understatement by LadyTimelessness [Rated T, 335 words, complete, 2024]

he's pissed off that jean had to go through this. they're basically nothing to each other, but damn it, neil wants to crack grayson's skull open that second. faith in the world finally burns out in the fire of disillusionment.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced murder

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Skip the Last Dance For Me (the Trojan Horse remix) by justadreamfox [Rated T, 3572 words, complete, Aftg Remix 2020]

Neil and Jean are free of the Nest, and wearing the Trojan red and gold, but they've still got "normal" life to navigate and friendships (past and present) to juggle. Really, sometimes you just want to be alone with your boyfriend. Ft. Exy, pizza, and Steven Spielberg.

Nothing Mattered Until You by Lostintheuniverseslies [Rated M, 22497 words, complete, 2023]

On the docks in Marseille, Neil fell in love. But his mother ripped him away and for years he never dared hope to see Jean again. He believed that he would die before ever getting the chance. But when recuperating with his uncle after his father is killed, Neil's chance comes. Unfortunately, he isn't the only one who went through some horrible things over the years. Despite their horrible pasts, they decide to try for a future together. Going to college and even making some friends along the way. But Riko has other plans and wants back what he considers his.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced domestic violence, tw: stalking, tw: harassment, tw: dissociation

It's Friday, I'm in love by Greenfallleaves [Rated T, 5834 words, complete, 2023, locked]

The day Neil had found himself pushed into the strong chest of their school’s new student Jean Moreau had been one of his luckiest in hindsight.

Hold my breath in your hands by Greenfallleaves [Rated G, 2154 words, complete, 2023, locked]

Adapting to the world outside the nest hadn’t been easy for either Jean or Neil but now that they had had a few years to get used to it, they got to complain about (i.e. enjoy) spending quality time with their friends.

sleep notes by nanatsuyu [Rated T, 2928 words, complete, 2024, locked]

Neil smokes a joint and discusses the possibility that Kevin is an honest to God vampire.

tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse

A kiss while someone watches by @stabbyfoxandrew [tumblr, 2024]

Nathaniel never really saw the point of kissing until he was brought to the nest. Or rather, until the first time Jean Moreau backed him up against the wall of their shared dorm during an argument.

Art

Jean & Neil by @ziegenkind094

Raven!neil au - napping by @dawnatlas

Raven!neil au - partners by @dawnatlas

‘Stitch by stitch, tape and gauze…’ by @dawnatlas

two by @02511213942

Neil and Jean find an empty pool at night by @aminiyard

i believe in jean moreau supremacy by @caraleadraws

secret santa gift for @nekojitachan by @aminiyard

Hello sunshine court by @estavs

18 notes · View notes

thotpuppy · 6 months

Text

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

tagged by the love @dear-massacre uwu

Words and Fics

According to AO3: 295,177 words posted, however, I did a lot of art for events this year, so this number isn't wholly accurate.

I actually wrote and posted 122,354 which is actually WAY more than I thought I did?

1 fandom represented: Teen Wolf (but I'm a multi-shipper, so many ships hehe)

Most Recent Drop: TECHNICALLY mu submissions to @sterekreversechallenges's past participant server event, 1000 Cakes, but the work featured is still anonymous, so I can't count it here.

Most Recent Drop (readable): 'My Whole Life is a Reference to the 1995 Hit Movie Clueless and I Still Don't Know the Plot' by Fall Out Boy (Stackson, T, 2k)

Longest Fic according to my stats page: Yoda Said It Best by @okdeannawrites (Sterek, E, 99k+) (I did the illustrations)

Longest Fic I actually wrote: Under My Skin (Stackson, E, 59k+)

Top Fics by Kudos (I'm including 6 because 1 of my top 5 isn't mine lol)

Grandma, What a Big Dick You Have! (the better to fuck you with my dear) (Sterek, E, 5k+)

Yoda Said It Best (Not my fic) (Sterek, E, 99k+)

Higher Education (you can confess when you're stone-cold sober) (Sciles, E, 6k+)

Under My Skin (Stackson, E, 59k+)

Daisies and Daffodils (You Make Me Smile) (Sterek, T, 3k+)

Thirsty (Stiles/Scott/Derek, M, <2k)

My fandom fic events in 2023

I THRIVE on events. They've been absolutely integral to my ability to write fic this year, and I'm really proud of what I've done. That said - I absolutely participated in WAY too many. There are a number of fics that I was involved with that don't show up in my ao3 stats and that's okay! I'ma just... list them out akdjhgk

7 fics (or 13,394 words) this year were posted for the Stiles Shipping Server's monthly ficlet exchange.

2 fics and 4ish art pieces were done for the @stacksonreversebang

1 fic was written for the Sterek VDay Exchange, but my participation was revoked.

1 art was posted for @stetervalentines2023

3 arts and 1 podfic were posted for the @steter-bang

1 fic was posted for the @teenwolfminibang

1 art was posted for the @teenwolfminibang

1 item was posted for the @sterekreversechallenges 1000 cakes event

2 Major arts and uh at least 4 minors arts were posted for the @wipbigbang

1 fic (and my longest solo fic ever) was written for the @wipbigbang

1 art which is not currently posted but will be revealed by the end of the year is for the @stereksecretsanta

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

The first thing that's going to be 'posted' is the Sterek Reverse Challenges 1000 Cakes anonymous work, which will be revealed Jan 6th.

Events:

Stiles Shipping Server monthly ficlet exchange - many more months will be participated in again

@sterekposevents - probably gonna write smth for this next year (stares forlornly at my unfinished summer wip)

If the Stackson Reverse Bang runs again, I will absolutely participate in that, but i will definitely not commit to 4 projects!!!!

Absolutely the next go around for Sterek Reverse Challenges!!! I love reverse bangs (and bang in general)

If I do the Steter bang again I will not sign up for as many projects because I did too much all at once and it was stressful.

I will likely participate in at least 1 vday event and at least 1 santa event. (:

There is one event I will definitely be participating in but the event itself has not been announced yet so I won't talk about it... publicly. If you're into Sterek and Events you can DM me for Spoilers though~ ;*

Projects:

Addabge Dmaddiage - Sterek MedFantasy Omegaverse Arranged Married Dark-ish fic. Currently Writing

Higher Education 2: Electric Boogaloo - I already have over 2k written, I just need to finish it.

Vampire!Stiles Sterek fic, which I will hopefully be doing for one of the events

Stackson MedFantasy Bastard Prince x Freedom Fighter AU

New! Sex for Work - Sterek office sex AU: Next chapter and/or Rewrite and/or Finish (low priority)

Sciles in Ancient Greece - this is possibly more of a long form poem than fic? We'll see how it goes ? low priority

Rules, Tags & Rambling below the cut!

I technically have a massive list of WIPs and Prompts I am constantly working from. I pick the ideas when they feel happy in my brain for "free time" writing - I actually meant to work on the office sex AU for the month of december but got whacked upside the head with Addabge Dmaddiage. UMS was my FIRST "long fic" ever so I am... feeling really, really invigorated.

in 2021 I climbed out of my writing hole where I hadn't written seriously in over a decade. That year, I wrote and shared 22,418 words by myself, and wrote half of a 69,599 (incomplete, part 1) role-play fic with a friend. At the start of 2022, I watched teen wolf for the first time because @sinnabon-cosplay is a menace and can't be stopped. It lit an absolute FIRE beneath me and I lost all control of my life. I started writing and drawing with a wholly renewed fury. I started doing way more events and wrote and posted 40,247 words. At the end of the year, I thought to myself - wow, wouldn't it be cool if i doubled my word count again? 80k? haha, that probably won't happen though. I'll be excited if I write and post 60k.

YALL. I wrote and posted 60k in ONE FIC. I wrote and posted over 120k?????? that's INSANE to me. I haven't had that much drive to create since I was in high school.

Teen Wolf is like... fixing my brain chemistry. I feel so invigorated.

Despite some setbacks with some REALLY unfortunate Sterek fans at the start of my experience here nearly tanking my creative drive, I've managed to stay on track without totally losing my love for the ship because of some rotten eggs. Shoutout to all my homies keeping the space worth hanging around in. I appreciate yall so much <3

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Tags: No pressure ANY time from me, i love you I appreciate you I like sharing with you. Don't wanna play, don't worry about it <3 @clotpolesonly @lucky-bishop @adrianfridge @sinnabon-cosplay @okdeannawrites @foofsterwolf (Sorry i panicked and couldn't remember if u posted FIC on ur main or just original so i tagged ur TW even tho this doesnt have to be TW related) @just-another-busy-fangirl-writes @lavender-lotion

#my writing #sterek #teen wolf fanfiction #tag meme /#tag game /#long post /

22 notes · View notes

averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years

Text

Living Up To The Legacy P.6 ✈️ | Top Gun Maverick Series

Contains major spoilers for TGM

Catch up on the series -> Series Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Lt. Barbara ‘Legacy’ Mitchell!OC (past/eventual romance), Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x daughter!OC (platonic). Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace (platonic/best friend), every other character in this is a platonic pairing

Content Warnings: profanity, smoking, light angst, fluff, allusions to smut and suggestive content— Minors DNI!! | Female OC (She/her) | wc: 5k+

Premise: The day has come for the special detachment to embark on their mission of blowing up a uranium plant before it is operational. After weeks of denying re-emerging feelings, Barbara and Bradley have found their way back into each other’s arms and have to come to terms with the reality they face moving forward. And their future isn’t the only one at stake on this mission for Barbara may lose the chance to reignite the bond between her and her once estranged father, Pete Mitchell.

Note: this is shorter than the previous chapters and probably will be the shortest of all (except maybe the epilogue). I’m debating on making the last 30 min of the movie one long ass chapter or splitting it up please. I originally had this story as 6 chapters, but then decided on 7 and may do 8 unless you guys are okay with waiting for the last chapter. I am a grad student and currently have a lot of important assignments this month that may put this story on the back burner. I’ll still work on it a little day by day, but may not be able to pump out three thousand words a day like I normally have. I’ll keep you guys updated and I hope you enjoy this chapter ♥️

———————————————

“Talk to me, Goose.”

The words that stuck with him even thirty years after he was gone. Maverick stood alone on the carrier below the deck as the breeze from the ocean before him kissed his face. The memory of him throwing Goose’s tags into the sea as a final send off. Gone, but never forgotten.

“Captain Mitchell,” her voice called to him seconds later, and Maverick slowly turned to see Barbara standing in her flight suit free of gear with tears in her eyes. “Dad,” she corrected, which sent a wave of emotion through him. “You’re where you belong.”

Mav was holding his own tears which he was sure spilled once Barbara approached and launched into his arms. They held each other tightly, Barbara pushing her face against Mav’s chest as his one hand cradled the back of her head. “Make us proud,” she whimpered out, letting the emotion overtake as she tightened the hold around his waist. “And come home. Please.”

A tear dropped from his eye, “I promise.” At that moment the overhead tarmac dropped down and together the two Mitchell’s walked onto it with Mavericks arm around Barbara’s shoulder while hers rested on his waist. As it brought them onto the deck Barbara thought back to the past 48 hours leading to that moment.

When Rooster shamelessly admitted he already had his stuff packed in his Bronco following a much needed second round, he cleared her up and brought her into his arms for some much needed sleep. It was just before midnight when they knocked out—neither wanting to discuss the future—and awoke just after 4 am. To save time they showered together with both having to face away from each other for fear it would lead to something more.

They didn’t have time for that and Barbara would rather sit naked on a hot grill than explain why both she and Rooster were late to the docks.

Her plan was to have him leave before her to avoid suspicion from the others, but Bradley just shook his head and said, “Are you seriously going to ride your bike when you have a backpack and duffle? Just throw it in the Bronco, we’ll go together.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea….”

“What, are you worried about what they may think?” He scoffed, snapping his belt and making sure it was lined with the seam of his uniform. When Barbara went to start a pot of coffee before their shower he had gone to get his stuff. “Hate to break it to you, baby, but they already know.”

“And how exactly do they know?” Barbara questioned with suspicion, lightly coating her eyelashes with mascara before moving to grab her blow dryer. Now she was definitely not looking forward to being on the carrier.

Rooster just smirked at her through the mirror, adjusting his collar. “Wasn’t really hiding my intentions when I asked Phoenix for your address, Barb.”

“Oh,” she hummed, taking her wet brush and running it through the wet strands of hair. “Your intentions were to seduce your ex-wife back into bed. I see.” A gasp escapes her mouth when Rooster’s arms suddenly go around her waist and pull her back to his chest. She nearly drops the brush when he leans down to nip her earlobe.

“My intentions were to win back the woman I love who I made the mistake of walking away from. The sex was a plus.” He pressed a kiss to her jaw, meeting her eye in the mirror. The flush of her face brought Rooster satisfaction, lips curling up as he pressed into her. “Let’s not forget, you’re the one who wanted to dance for me.”

Fuck he got her there. Barbara did initiate round two because to be fucking honest their sex life was never just one and done. Neither were satisfied until at least three orgasms unless they were exhausted from the day. And as a switch, Barbara loved dancing on Rooster to the point he was a babbling mess for her.

His kisses along her jaw and neck brought her out of the lustful thoughts, Barbara gently breaking away with a playful expression. “Now, now, Bardshaw. You know the rules when in uniform. Best to not disrespect it any further.” He groaned, adjusting his pants before checking his watch to see it was already pushing 4:30. Thank God Barbara lived just down the street from the docks.

“Like we haven't done worse,” he snickers when she yelps as he lands a light slap to her ass before walking out of the bathroom to move their bags to the Bronco. While he’s out Barbara quickly dries her (thankfully) short hair in record time and straightens it lightly to give it a cropped effect. With a ‘Hmm’ she realizes she could easily pull off a Mia Wallace look for Halloween.

Putting on some simple studs and giving one last look over to make sure her uniform was polished, Barbara takes her phone, cigarette tin, and any last minute items she forgot before leaving her room. She doesn’t bother making the bed after much debate….the sheets would have to be washed when she returned. Dumping out any leftover coffee and hand washing it, Barbara locks up her home and meets Rooster outside in the already running Bronco. It was still dark out, the horizon just barely starting to light up in the distance.

The second she’s closing the door his lips are on her before she could even buckle up. “What was that for?” She asks with an exhale, surprised by the gesture. Rooster just smiles and replies, “I doubt being on the carrier we’ll be able to be together much. Just in case that was the last time I got to kiss you, I wanted it to be where it felt like home.”

Water lined her eyes, Barbara sniffing as emotion coursed through her. Without warning her hand goes to the back of his neck and pulls him to her again. The kiss is much like the one they shared at the tarmac the day before. Slow and full of love. It would have gone on longer if her phone alarm hadn’t scared the shit out of them.

“Fuck—sorry,” she hits the dismiss, reading the time at 4:40. She mentally patted herself on the back at the fact she managed to shower, dress, do her hair and get out of the house in an impressive amount of time. All with her…ex? Boyfriend? Undecided partnership? They’ll figure it out after the mission.

The golden rule of being in the military: if you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late.

The docks were only a short drive down the street and a left turn into the parking lot, but they couldn’t risk being late. “We should get going.”

“Yeah,” Rooster agreed, kissing her blushing cheek and leaning back into his seat. Barbara buckled in as he reversed in the driveway before starting down the road out of her small neighborhood which consisted mostly of beach houses. The entire drive Rooster held Barbara's hand, bringing it to rest on his right thigh. The music was at a low volume, Barbara had her window down to let the cool breeze from the ocean saunter in.

When they arrived at the docks, most of the team had already arrived. It looked like most had the same idea of carpooling. Harvard and Yale were with Omaha. Phoenix, and Halo caught a ride with Bob while Fanboy hitched one with Payback. Lastly Hangman was pulling in at the same time as them with Coyote.

“You ready?” Rooster softly asked as he shut off the engine and unlocked the doors. The answer didn’t come in words but a simple nod, Barbara giving him a small smile as he grabbed her hand again to gently squeeze it.

As they got out of the Bronco and moved to the back to retrieve their bags. Neither turned to face their fellow aviators who were all pretty much gawking at the sight before them—which they expected. Phoenix was the only one with a genuine smile, happy and relieved to see the two together. Hangman and Coyote expressions were more of, ‘well I’ll be damn.’ The others were a mix of both though they couldn’t help but be surprised at the timing.

Thanking Rooster as he handed her the backpack and duffle, Barbara pulled it around her shoulders and slung the duffle strap onto one. Once Rooster was ready and the car was locked, they walked side by side to meet with Phoenix and Bob who were kind enough to wait on them. There was no mistaking the knowing look Phoenix was sending the two, brows raised to silently say, ‘Lovers quarrel has been settled?’

“Phoenix, Bob,” Barbara nods, removing the cigarette from behind her ear to place it between her lips.

“Morning you two,” Nat smiles, watching Barbara light the tobacco as she comes to her side. Bob and Bradley share a bro handshake, but not before the latter sends a look of disapproval to Barbara.

“This is my last one for a while, okay Bradshaw? Get off my ass.”

Rooster clicks his tongue, trying to stop the smirk from forming, “Wasn’t gonna say anything, but glad to hear it.” Barbara rolls her eyes, walking ahead of the men with Phoenix and leans in to whisper, “He secretly finds it hot, but won’t admit it.”

With a laugh Phoenix nudges her fellow aviator while wiggling her eyebrows, “I take it you two made up?” A huff is her reply, but make no mistake the expression gives Barbara away.

“We’re working on it.”

“I’m happy for you. Really, you two are like Yin and Yang.”

Barbara lets her gaze flicker to the ground briefly after blowing the smoke in the opposite direction, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Phee. We’ve got more pressing matters to focus on.” That has the Lieutenant tilt her head, remembering a certain topic of discussion she’d been dying to ask Barbara about.

“You think Cyclone will really fall through? I mean court-martialing when all you did was prove he was wrong about changing—.”

“I stole a multi million dollar jet, Phee. I quite literally broke the law,” Barbara was aware the two men were more than likely listening to their conversation for their own had fallen silent. She could feel Rooster’s eyes on her. “He can’t go after Maverick just yet, but he can punish me right now. Trust me, the worst thing that could come out of it is a dishonorable discharge.” In the corner of her eye she saw Phoenix draw in a sharp breath. “But maybe the judge or whoever decides my fate will see it was necessary and demote me or hell I don’t know. All I know is I made my bed, now it’s time for me to lay in it.”

“Still I don’t think it’s fair,” Phoenix comments, watching Barbara finish the bud before discarding it in the ashtray on the trash can. “With what Cyclone was planning, none of us would have a chance. It would have put us in harm's way. I mean, yeah we knew the risks and accepted them by doing this job, but still I don’t think anyone is truly ready to lay down their life. And when their superior sees it like that it drops their confidence.”

“I know,” Barbara mutters, pinning a glance to her friend with solemn eyes. “That’s why Mav and I did what we did. He wouldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to you guys out there.” Pain filled her heart at the thought of Maverick losing his wingman. The man has seen more death than the average human and though he acts like it doesn't bother him, Barbara can see the toll it takes on him daily.

Once on the carrier they were issued their rooms with Barbara bunking with Phoenix and Halo. She and Rooster exchanged one last glance before they were separated. Mav had yet to be seen, and Barbara assumed it was because he was doing last minute briefings with Cyclone and Warlock.

Throwing her duffle on the bottom bunk to claim it, much to the annoyance of Phoenix who Barbara just sent a cheeky look to since Halo had already claimed the second bottom bunk, Barbara unpacked her portable memory foam cushion, pillow and thick blanket to lay on the bed. “God, I’m always reminded why I hate being offshore with these damn back breaking mattresses.” The two women make sounds of agreement.

“Hey,” Phoenix sticks her head over from the top bunk, “I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page. We—,” she waves a finger between her and Cali, “won’t have to deal with the possibility of walking in on something between you and Rooster—.”

“Trace, do not finish that sentence!”

“I just want to make sure I don’t see anything I’m not supposed to, C.”

“For God's sake, I am not that shallow. You know the rules.”

“Oh, now you care about rules. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard those words come out of your mouth.” Barbara flipped her off, making the brunette giggle.

“Gotta keep on my P’s and Q’s if I wanna keep my job,” she mumbles under her breath. Last thing she needed was Cyclone adding more shit to his case against her.

“So you two are back together?” Halo wonders with a smile. Barbara groans, putting a hand to her face while the other flips off Phoenix again. Her laughter has the woman tilt her head back with closed eyes like she was praying to a higher power to give her the strength.

She could only imagine what Rooster was dealing with.

Barbara brings her hands together with a deep exhale, “It’s complicated. He came over last night. We…..talked—.”

“Yeah right,” Phoenix snorted. “I saw the look in that man’s eyes last night when he asked for your address. He was on a mission.”

“Natasha…”

“Look, you two are grown ups—once married—and the past week has been filled with suffocating sexual tension.” At Barbara’s mortified look, Phoenix chuckles and goes back to sorting her stuff. “You don’t have to hide the fact y’all hooked up. I mean, we can all put it together since you carpooled.”

Halo agrees, “Yeah, C. Everyone knows—no need to be shy about it. Plus when was the last time you got laid?” Barbara refuses to answer the question, a light blush coating her cheeks. It was embarrassing for the woman to admit the previous night was the first in over two years. Even Rooster had commented how tight she was which made her more flustered. The truth was she tried to have casual hookups a year after the divorce, but the poor guys could not satisfy her. There was no one like Rooster and it was obvious he ruined her for any other man.

They all had poor stamina, couldn’t make her finish, or just overall were bad. It wasn’t like she had a lot of partners—quite frankly it was only three. And she wasn’t going to ask Rooster if he had been with anyone at that time. It wouldn’t be surprising and she had no right to judge. Humans have needs—sexual attraction is part of nature.

Once the three finished up they reported to the mess hall for breakfast. A glare was sent to Rooster when he sat his happy ass down beside Barbara, aware the others were staring at them with mixed expressions. Most of them were amused. “Seriously?” She hissed, stabbing the eggs with a fork.

“What?” He shrugged like he didn’t know what she was talking about. But she knew him better than that.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing, Bradshaw.” The fork waved in his face to emphasize her point. All he did was smirk in return, turning his head away as he brought his coffee to his lips. Phoenix was loving it much to Barbara’s annoyance. So was Payback who was seated next to Rooster.

Breakfast went by fast and soon they were ushered into a room to be debriefed on the day's plans. It would be at least another 24 hours before they were close to the desired location. The time went fast before they knew it. As the hours passed nerves surfaced from everyone on board the carrier. The Dagger Squad were often called away for private briefings and Barbara managed to run into her father at one point which led to the man finding out what happened between her and Rooster.

“I didn’t see your bike or car in the parking lot,” he casually said, noticing the way her body stiffened. “Did you catch a ride with someone?”

“Yeah,” she coughed, hand coming up to block it when really she was trying to hide the blush forming on her cheeks. Without looking at Mav, she admitted, “Bradley and I actually rode together.”

“Oh,” His voice went low, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. Though he was tempted to question the details, the awkward shuffle from his daughter plus the avoidance of looking him in the eye was enough to at least imply something happened. A red color appeared on his own cheeks and Maverick looked away to clear his throat. He decided not to say a word in the end and instead give a curt nod.

Talk about awkward.

Something else that could have had that same feeling came when Barbara was walking to her room late that night and was suddenly pulled from the side into a storage closet. “What the fuck—!” A hand clamped over her mouth as she was brought to a hard chest. The light was off with little light emitting from the window on the door, but the musky scent of familiar cologne had the pilot push away the hand and playfully smack his chest. “Jesus Christ, Bradshaw. Are you out of your mind?”

Rooster lifted her up, securing her legs around his waist with his hands resting on her ass to hold her up. “Sorry, baby.” The apology was flat because in all honesty he wasn’t sorry. Barely could she make out the smug expression on his face.

Barbara tightened her arms that hung around his neck, “What are we teenagers? You can get demoted if we’re caught.” A shudder coursed through her when Rooster started to leave a trail of kisses from her ear to her jaw. “Dammit, Bradshaw, now is not the time to be reckless like me,” she groaned, biting her lip to stop the smile peeking out.

“I missed you,” he whined against her skin, walking a bit so they were pressed against the wall and away from the door. Pleasure filled him when he felt Barbara run her fingers through his hair, aiming for the curls that rested on the nape of his neck.

“You’re a menace,” her lips brushed over his, feeling his smile against her own. “You’ve seen me all day—except for maybe three hours when you were called for a meeting.”

“Still, I missed being close to you,” he presses into her more, “Been waiting all day to get you alone.”

“Oh so you just so happened to know I would be coming down the hallway at that given moment and waited for your chance?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged like it was the most obvious answer. “Baby, now that I have you back in my arms I don’t ever wanna let you go. I’ll take whatever time I can get to be touching and kissing you even if it means sneaking like kids and fooling around in a closet.” With that he leaned in and sealed their lips together. After the sweet kiss that morning, Rooster was counting down the minutes until he could taste Barbara again.

It was like a spark had reignited between the two. While the stance of their relationship was sorta on the fence with no official title, there was no doubt in question they loved each other. Longing looks and light touches as they passed became a habit throughout the day. Unfortunately the addiction Rooster had for Barbara and vice versa was difficult in their situation. Neither had rooms to themselves where they could sneak off to and the carrier had their friends, Maverick, and the Admirals. If they were to get caught in a frisky position word would spread like wildfire.

“You better calm that boner I feel against me, Lieutenant. There’s no way I’m letting you fuck me against this wall when anyone could pass by at any given second.” His groan made her chuckle, pressing a kiss to his pouty lips. “I’m in enough hot water as it is. I’m not gonna let you be in the same boat when you’ve got something big in less than a day.”

“Can we at least make out for a bit?” The question was so expected of Rooster and the tone in which he said it had Barbara slapping a hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter. Rooster giggled with her, adjusting her in his arms when she slid a bit. One calm, Barbara put her hand to his cheek, “Sure, pretty boy. You’ve got fifteen minutes—better make it worthwhile.”

That was a day ago. Now Barbara was walking across the runway of the carrier with Maverick. Cyclone had called a meeting with everyone on board to go over the plan of action one last time just before she found him alone muttering the words, “Talk to me, Goose.”

The jets were lined up, pre-flight checks in order as the pilots arrived. Barbara and Mav walked together with his arm over her shoulder. Several glances were sent their way but Barbara kept her eyes forward as they approached his F-18. Squeezing his hand, Barbara said, “I’ll be right back,” and left for Phoenix and Bob. Jogging over just before they could climb in, Barbara pulled the dark-haired woman into a hug. “You better kick ass out there, Phee.” This mission was personal to Barbara on so many levels.

It has the lives of her father, lover, and friends on the line.

“When have I ever not, C?” She teased back, tightening the hug before releasing so Barbara could do the same to Bob.

“When you get back we’re going dancing like old times.” Back when she and Rooster were married, they had been stationed together with Nat and the two women made it a tradition to have a girls night whenever one returned from an assignment. When Pheonix agreed with a ‘hell yeah’, Barb patted Bob's arm, “Bob here can even join in.”

“Uhh-I-I uh don’t really dance.”

“We’ll teach you,” the wink she sent caused a blush to his cheeks. It reminded her of when they first met just a few short weeks ago. With one last good luck, Barbara departed and went to Fanboy and Payback. She made it quick with a hug and threatening to kick their ass if they didn’t come back in one piece. Spinning on her heel, she made her way back to Mav while looking around for Bradley. When she caught sight of him he wasn’t alone.

Hangman was with him.

It appeared that no words were exchanged with the two men just staring at each other. Then as Barbara got closer she faintly heard over the noise Jake shouting, “you give em’ hell!” Rooster looked stunned, not expecting the words from his rival. As Hangman passed him he remained still, head slightly turning but gaze on the ground. He hadn’t noticed Baraba approaching from the side, who gave a nod to Jake when they caught eyes, but soon lifted his head to find her staring back at him with a nervous expression.

The tension in his posture disappeared, legs moving at a fast rate to close the distance between them. Rooster didn’t care they were out in the open, in uniform, and should be climbing into his jet at that very second. No, he stormed right up to Barbara, free hand not holding his helmet cupping her jaw and bending down to bring her into a searing kiss. The gasp she emitted has his tongue sliding past her lips, deepening the kiss for all eyes to see.

Which all eyes did see. Maverick was trying not to intrude but there was a small smile on his lips. It brought him great joy the two were together again in each other’s arms despite the inner conflict at what they were about to face. On the opposite side the foxtrot teams were exchanging knowing looks, happy while also worried. Hell even Hangman was reacting the same, not ruining the moment with some snide comment.

“I love you,” Barbara stood on her tippy toes, thumb tracing over the scars on Roosters face as tears watered her eyes. “I love you so much, Bradley.”

“I love you too, baby,” he kissed all over her face, holding back his own emotion to not worry her further. God how much he missed hearing those words.

“You got this. As much as I believe in you, you have to believe in yourself more than anything. Trust your instincts. You better—,” she sniffed, pushing a hand against his chest where his heart lay, “—You better fucking come back to me. Or I swear to God, Bradley, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll kick your ass in the afterlife if I have to.” She feels him press his lips to her forehead, lingering there for a second while her eyes close.

“I have to come back, so I can take you to the chapel and wife you up again.”

All the air leaves Barbara, eyes snapping wide open to stare at him in disbelief, “W-what? Are you serious right now?” Did she really hear that right or was she daydreaming? It had to have been a joke.

But it wasn’t a joke.

His face was serious, the sweat bedding along his hairline slowly dripping down as he stared into her soul. “Marry me, Barbara Mitchell. Be my wife again, please. I know I fucked up once—my biggest regret that will haunt me forever—and I will spend the rest of my life making it up if you have me again.” His lips curl up a bit at her look of bewilderment, “Hell we can even get the Chaplin on board to officiate right now—.”

“O-oh my God, no—,” she stuttered out with a watery laugh, her heart literally pounding out of her chest. Leave it to Rooster to want to elope minutes before he’s about to embark on a life or death mission. “We are not shotgunning this again like last time.”

“So is that a yes then?” He smiles at her, eyes full of love and adoration which she mirrors.

Instead of answering yes or no, Barbara simply kisses him and says, “Come back to me and you’ll get your answer.” He kisses her back passionately, knowing damn well it was a yes. Her previous sentence had sealed the deal for him. But, because of the situation Barbara couldn’t bring herself to say the word. There was still that fear something could go wrong.

Together hand in hand they approach his plane but instead of Bradley climbing in they move toward Maverick. “Sir.” Maverick turns around to see the two, Rooster addressing him. Barbara squeezes his hand before letting go and stepping back to give the two space. “I…I just wanna say—,” the sound of the flight crew announcing orders interrupts the pilot. Several crew members run past them, the clock ticking down till go time.

“We’ll talk,” Mav tells him with a nod, “when we get back.” It was a promise. One that sent a wave of anxiety through Barbara as she took in Roosters distressed expression. There was something about the way Maverick said the words that, although assuring, felt worrisome.

A moment passes, then Bradley gives the Captain a nod before spinning around. Placing one last kiss to Barbara’s lips, the two holding each other’s gaze to convey the unspoken words they wished to say, Rooster moves to his jet while she watches on.

“B-Bradley!” Maverick suddenly shouts, causing Rooster to halt his movements. “You got this.” The simple phrase had Barbara’s tears resurface. It was all Rooster wanted to hear from Maverick. Yeah she told him the same thing just moments ago, but it was impactful to hear it from the person he’s trained his entire career to prove himself to.

Barbara could tell the words cut deeply into Rooster, the man releasing a shaky breath as he nodded. When he meets her eye Barbara mouths, ‘I love you,’ which he returns before saluting, shaking the hand of the crew member, and climbing into the F-18. It’s then that Barbara goes to Maverick, arms already open to embrace him. It was no doubt her eyes were rimmed with red after crying so much in the span of just twenty minutes. Her reputation of being an ice cold, nearly emotionless aviator was about to tarnish.

But who could really blame Barbara Mitchell? They’d probably be in the same shoes.

And for Pete Mitchell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d hug his daughter so much. Their strained relationship and her avoidance of his physical touch as a teen and young adult made him realize how precious moments like this were. How he missed out on so much by putting his career first.

He missed her first steps. Her first words. Her first birthday. The first day of school. Her first recital. The first time she broke a bone playing soccer. Her first heartbreak. Her high school prom.

Her college graduation.

Her commission.

Her wedding day.

Pete Maverick Mitchell hardly had regrets for he believed the path one takes was meant to be walked. But in that moment, if he could turn back time and choose a new one, without hesitation he’d choose the one that would have him be the father Barbara deserved, even if it meant giving up the piece of his life he was devoted to. To be a better man for her. For Barbara Caroline ‘Legacy’ Mitchell is who he should have been devoted to from the very beginning the second she was brought into the world. His legacy.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, my darling girl.”

…………………………….

Tag List: @multiple-fandoms-girl, @maverick-wingman, @sgt-huntersupremacy, @the-winter-marvel33, @calicokel, @justanothermagicalsara, @lydia-demarek, @alanadetigy, @shrimping-for-all, @chaoticassidy, @nemtodd-barnes1923, @bradleysgirl, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @mak-32

202 notes · View notes