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legendaryoikawa · 3 years

Text

while we’re young / suna rintarou

a valentines day collab hosted by @prettysetterbaby

synopsis: your self proclaimed unromantic boyfriend is eating you hard on his bed full of roses and jhene aiko blasting on his busted speakers.

this was made the last minute and i forgot to post this yesterday because i was asleep the whole valentines day lmao. also thank u to @godjo for helping me with my trashy writing skills HAHA ur the mvp bitch

minors dni (i dont want to go to jail istg 🦧)

"where are you bringing me this valentines?" you asked while struggling to carry out the huge heart plastic containers he gave filled with melted chocolates that looked ransacked.

"to my room," he replied shortly.

his back hunched as he glided down the school's marble hallway as if it's his own walkway.

"i'm sorry, what?” you exasperated.

you somewhat expected a fine dinner cuisine with him in a bow but his lack of preparedness as evidenced by the melted chocolates he managed to steal from the school's stalls and withered flowers that you immediately threw away)

you shouldn't be expecting so much. what you should so, is mediocrity.

he dragged his words as if he was talking to a toddler who's throwing a tantrum,

"i said... in my room.. do you not understand baby girl?" (

“excuse me suna? but in your bedroom... valentines?” you scoffed. disbelief painted on your face

“do you want me to spell it out for you, doll?”

suna gave you a benovelent smile imbued with smoldering intensity that makes your guts churn with both lust and chaos.

you rolled your eyes. sarcasm evident on your tongue as you said, "you are so romantic."

his lips drawled out stinging satire, “oh love, trust me. i am romantic even without trying.”

you roll your eyes, “aight, bet.”

he glanced behind his shoulder. his slitted eyes staring down on your orbs, deep and feline.

"but my dick is,” his words were dangling in the air leaving you there with an open mouth.

the students around you gave the same astonished look as yours but he gave no fuck at all.

smirking he turns around once again as he made sure his tone is higher than his usual.

“cum on brat.”

and that brat that is you chased him all the way down to his honda covic.

suna rintarou is not romantic. but he definitely made you cum in all possible position in his room. that valentines day.

NSFW AHEAD

you couldn’t contain yourself, especially when all he does was to tease you all the way down the corridor.

albeit harmless was his banters, but it definitely left you with oozing discharge and a sticky thigh— and sexual frustration if you could draw it out clearly.

“you know what?” you gritted in frustration when his fingers played with your clothed sex.

you found that gesture hot especially when his other arm was busy with yours and his other maneuvering the wheel with such suaveness

he looked at you smugly, “what?”

you moaned and laid your head on the headrest, eyes rolling back, “fuck you.”

“i will,” he said lackadaisically. his fingers elegantly made its way onto your damp clothed clit.

you widened up your legs in response and lifting up your hips to maximize the friction— you were growing too impatient and it send delight to suna rintarou.

“look at the brat who’s whimpering for my fingers?” he teased, playfully lifting his fingers only to jab it down to your clit again

“screw you and your dick suna,” you glared while trying to catch your breath from the supposed climax but he decides to pull his hands away to drive with two hands on the stirring wheel

“edging makes the dream work, brat.”

he parked his car haphazardly on his driveway. like a fucked parking and he didn’t even tried to fix it up

“you’re trying to get ticketed aren’t you?” you exhaled and looked at him with in hazy

he makes a contemplating face—one brow up, eyes boring into yours, lips pinned together then switched up into something like a snicker

“you’ll be paying for it.”

“excuse me?”

“happy valentines brat.”

you gasped in disbelief as he climbed out of his car and leaving you there alone, not even bothering to open up the door for you

he really is taking up feminism to a while new level and chivalry isn’t part of his vocabulary

you dragged yourself and closed his door with a bang.

only if you weren’t so needy and you would definitely leave suna’s ass without second doubt.

but priorities first and your pussy is throbbing at the moment and it makes you downright annoyed

glaring, you entered his apartment.

nothing usual— his psp laid there untouched with unorganized wires all around the console, an ashtray with few marlboro butts about one a nd a half inches, his sofa was not made, the pearl bracelet you gave him sat on the center table along with his other trinkets

you squinted when you felt the thin walls vibrate, he played a song with heavy bass and calm beat and soothing vocals

ah, you remembered how you mentioned jhene aiko to him one time.

you didn’t felt his looming presence from behind and his voice startled the soul out of you

“im not good at talking so go in the room,” he marches away and you weren’t able to see it through but he was completely shirtless.

you had to squint (due to his poor overhead lights) to see his trapezius bulging out whenever he flex his shoulders.

“fuck it come here, I don’t have all day,” he dragged you away and you were shocked to see the scene unfolding fast

it wasnt the ideal setting but the fact that he attempted to present you a bed of roses with candlelights standing in line on the headboard (you suppose were from his cupboard) instantly sent intense feeling bubbling in your chest cavity

he hates all of these but he pulled it off just as you liked

you turned to him, wrapping your arms on his neck

“i never thought you’d be this romance maniac?”

he raised a brow, “ive had enough of your bullshit,” he pushed your body on his bed, roses flying over your frame as he climbed over you, “let get down to the serious business.”

he started sloppily,

his hands were gropping you in all directions lazily, not that you mind much especially when a hotheaded cocky bastard is leading you on and keeps calling you a brat

his tongue teased your lower lip while his hand groped the curvature of your breasts

you let out a quiet whimper while trying to grind onto him as he was taking too much of his sweet time into tormeting you

he sighs after being content with your lips

he crawls down and lifted your skirt

oh.

“consider this as a consolation from the wrecked chocolates a while ago, atsumu was dumb for sitting on ‘em”

you couldn’t form any coherent words especially when he’s down there breathing onto your pulsing sex

he grins upon the sight of your face—mixture of frustration and needy

he burried his face onto yours, licking the same damp spot he was playing with in the car a while back

you threw your head back, burrying your face into his pillows upon the sensation you felt from his tongue

you tugged on the underware and it just made you nothing but slicker with desire

“why the rush brat?”

you replied with a shaky voice, “I thought you don’t have all day?”

“when did i start being so serious with my words?” he pulled the fabric down. “you should’ve known now that when it comes to your cunt, im always free.”

his mouth returned to your pussy but this time with raging intensity it made you moan out loud

his tongue swirled onto your clit, his nose brushing against your slick folds

he lifted one leg onto his shoulders and continued on with his business

his tongue licked circles, pushed into yours while his hands worked their way from behind, massaging your ass and thighs tenderly

he ate you out slowly with intensity it made you crazy

your vision became blurry as the growing sensation deep down your pit started to plummet

the shock from his tongue made you dizzy but nevertheless he continued on, smirking occasionally upon the sight of you gripping his sheets and squirming

“that was crazy,” you began as you recollected yourself from your high

suna pulled a gold foil from his back pockets

“yeah, and we were just getting started.”

happy late valentines yall!!

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retroellie · 3 years

Note

can u do an imagine/headcanon of nsfw jealous ellie being protective and stuff like that ;) thank you!! i love ur writing btw 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

summary: Ellie gets jealous

A/N: Thank you for the request<3 sorry this took so long and it’s very short, i’ve just been super busy. I need some ellie in my life rn. Thank you for enjoying my writing, i know it’s not the best but it makes me happy knowing some people enjoy it :)

Warnings: NSFW, use of strap on, Mommy kink

Word count: 771

-Jealous Ellie is so hot but such a pain in the ass

- She won’t ever tell you she’s jealous, she’ll just side eye you and get real quiet

-In her head she’s thinking about all the things she’s gonna do to you when you guys get home

-Maybe y’all are doing group rounds with another group, a set of guys let’s say

-One of the guys gets real close to you, making you laugh and touching your arm like he’s flirting with you

-Ellie just stays behind y’all, watching as you two get too close for her liking

-She knows you would never, I mean based on what she does to you in bed and how you react; she would say your never gonna leave her

-She just gets so jealous, especially around boys

-She knows your gay but she’s really insecure okay, she do be sensitive

- She won’t say anything to you while she’s jealous, she’ll just let out dry responses

-She uses this as a perfect time to tease you though

-She’ll roll up her sleeves showing her tattoo, her reach up to things so it’ll show off her stomach, or she’ll get herself all blooded

-She basically wants you to be drooling by the time you get back to Jackson

-you will attempt to get her alone with you but she just teased you more

-“Me and Ellie can take the bathrooms.”

-“No you and Jesse can. I can take the bedrooms.”

-When you get back to Jackson you guys are all over each other

-Shes angry and irritated but that doesn’t stop her from asking if your okay with it and even checking up on your every one in a while

-She quite literally fucks you into the mattress, like literally

-She definitely uses the strap when she’s jealous just to give you the most pleasure you can get

-Shes rough with you. She will throw you around, smack your ass roughly and even choke you harder than she usually would

-Because shes so rough she’ll have a safe word available for you to use, probably something like Guitar or Astronaut

-She will try to overstimulate you, fucking you till your worn down

-“Imagine what that boy would think if he saw you like this, if he knew how much of a slut you were for me.”

-I feel like jealous sex is how she finds out she had a mommy/daddy kink (which ever one your comfortable with<3 it doesn’t matter)

-“Fuck...mommy...”

-She gets so much power from that, Idc this woman has a mommy kink

-“Say it again baby, come on Don't get all shy now.”

- She will flop you over on your stomach and fuck you so roughly you really gotta hold on to the sheets for dear life

-She will dig her nails into your hips so hard it’ll leave scars and it only adds to the pleasure your feeling

-She knows when your about to cum, your legs start to shake and your moans get louder

-She will start kissing your neck and rubbing between your thighs, just to send you over the edge

-Your moans get so loud she has to cover your mouth, afraid joel might hear

-“Ellie... I’m cumming.” You say into her hand

-She thrust harder, fucking your until your basically a puddle in your arms

-Your orgasm hits you and it hits you hard, you scream into her hand

-By the end of it, your basically a rag doll. Your vision is blurry and your body it sore

-While coming down from your high you can heard ellie shuffle behind you

-You almost fall sleep until Ellie’s hands go around your waist and pull your underneath the blankets

-You cuddle underneath them, watching as she tries to clean up your mess

-Shes wearing a clean white shirt and some underwear, the indents from the strap on her flushed skin

-“Your jealous...”

-What? No I’m not.”

-“you so are! You fucked me because a boy talked to me.” You joked

-She bit her lip before jumping on top of you, attacking you with kisses

-“No! I just don’t like when boys get all flirty with you.”

-“Why!? You think I’m going to leave you.”

-She brushes some hair from out of your face, pecking your lips softly

-“Maybe... your hot, you know. You could have any person.”

-“Yeah, but don’t worry your winning. I have yet to find a person who fucks me better than you do.” You joke

-“Yeah, like any guy can fuck you like I do.”

(Credits to gif owner)

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us x reader #tlou ellie #the last of us fanfiction

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onlyfortheplot · 4 years

Text

But... He died!

this really happened irl.I just finished reading in another life a day ago and I am still sensitive whenever IAL flashes in my mind and idk why the other day while eating a banana i suddenly remember IAL and it made me tear up ; Z ; so can I request a hcs of bois (ur choice) suddenly comforting their s/o because out of the blue they started to sobs while eating somethin' and when asked they answered because they read a vv sad story and still affected by it? tHANK YOU SO MUCH IF U WILL NOTICE DIS- Anon

Pairing: Bokuto x Reader, Tsukishima x Reader

Warnings: Slight language, Assassination Classroom spoilers, The Fault in Our Stars spoilers

A/N: I feel like I’m bad at asks because I go off topic?? But, I loved writing this, anon, please marry me, it was SUCH AN AMAZING ask! LIKE HOW CAN I NOT NOTICE THIS!! Also I never actually ready In Another Life. I don’t plan to??? Like I’m scared of reading it! But, I can tell you the Bokuto x Reader part is from personal experience because I am 𝔀𝓮𝓪𝓴. Anyway I hope you Enjoy. Asks are OPEN.

You had been warned, way before you had decided to watch Assassination Classroom, that you were going to cry at one point, but you didn’t care what’s life without a broken heart?

So, during a long weekend, you built yourself a small fort, snuggling into the covers and started watching

You were emotionally wrecked by the end of it, especially in the last episode. Tears streamed down your face as you watched Koro Sensei turn into small, elegant lights

You stayed in your small bed fort, ignoring every call or text that was sent your way. How could he die. He was such an amazing character.

You thought, stupidly, you would be fine once school started again, too busy on homework and tests to remember the yellow octopus

Oh how wrong you were.

The first incident happened when someone brought up eating octopuses, during lunch, a tear dropped down your cheek as an image of Koro-Sensei flooded your mind.

The second incident happened when someone had mentioned the end of their favorite anime. You sobbed at the thought of not seeing any of the characters anymore.

The third, and final, incident happened in front of your own boyfriend, something you should have thought of twice before doing.

You had walked into the gym, after school. Searching for your boyfriend. Your eyes were red and puffy from the numerous amounts of breakdowns that had occurred.

Your lips wobbled at the thought. RIP Koro-Sensei

You kept your head down, as you walked into the gym, obviously sad.

It had taken a few minutes for Bokuto, and the rest of the team, to even realize that you had even arrived.

They had quickly surrounded you, encasing you in a small circle as the looked at you. Their eyes widened as you looked up at them tears forming in your eyes.

“Y/N-chan?” Konoha asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, inquiring eyes pierced you as you looked away

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong” Bokuto asked, bending down slightly as he scooped you into a hug.

“Bokuto” your lips quivered as you clutched his back, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, the slight smell of sweat and mint lingered.

“Bokuto.” you sobbed, tears pooling in his neck, the team lept back in surprise as you had a whole breakdown in front of them

They scattered around, shouting to each other to help you.

“Get her some water.” “Oi, give her your jacket” “Do you want to buy some ice cream? ”

“Y/N, what’s wrong”Bokuto asked, voice slightly muffled,

“Koro-Sensei is dead” you shouted, as the entirety of the gym froze giving you an odd look.

“Who?” Bokuto leaned back from you tilting his head in confusion, “Koro-sensei.”

You let out another sob, giving a frantic nod.

“He’s dead!” you cried out, fingers digging into his back. Bokuto felt tears forming in his eyes as he watched you bawl.

“He’s dead!”he whispered, before turning around to his teammates, who gave them an odd look, “Guys, he’s dead!”

He brought you in, sobbing into your hair as you sobbed into his chest.

“He’s dead.” you simultaneously bawled

The team looked at you both, deadpan and slightly disappointed.

“Petition to get a new Captain.” The vote was unanimous.

He warned, quite a few times, to not read The Fault in our Stars. He told you, so many goddamn times, you would cry.

And cry you did. Reading the book, just to piss him off. Nobody gonna tell me what to do

Tears had formed, blurring your vision as you closed the book. You bit your lip to stop the heart-wrenching sob that threatened to come out.

You never expected that. Not that.

The only thoughts in your mind was the death of Augustus Waters. He was dead.

Your lips were forced apart, as the trembling increased, taking in a deep breath before you let out a sob.

It was loud and forceful, rasping your throat as more continued to come

Drops of tears fell, promptly on your book. You were sure Kei was going to kill you for even letting anything happen to his book, but you were too heart-broken to care.

You took a deep breath as you chucked the book onto your head, watching as it landed with a small plop

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. She didn’t know who she was mad at. But, you were mad. Mad at him for dying. Mad at yourself for reading it. And mad at Kei for letting you read it.

You gritted her teeth, tears falling loosely, as you swiped your phone from the near table, quickly unlocking it

A few text messages from friends and two from Kei. You scowled.

You went into his contacts and blocked him, proud of yourself for giving him some his own medicine.

You turned out the nights, closing your shutters, as you snuggled into bed, ignoring the very tiny rip in your heart from the book. You stupid person

He spammed you through friends, making them send his own stupid collection of reaction memes. Tell me this boy doesn’t have rude reacts on his phone You gritted your teeth, as you turned your notifications off, shoving your phone back in your pocket

“And he got sick” you whirled around, hearing part of a conversation. Your heart raced as you stared. They looked at you, weirded out. You blushed, mumbling a small apology as you walked away. Oh god what was that. That’s heartbreak. That’s the tweet.

You found yourself more attentive as you walked down the hallways of Karasuno High. For two reasons.

One to stay away from your boyfriend, who you caught waiting for you by your locker

And second, well, you felt yourself on the verge of tears, every second of the day.

To the point where you almost bawled in the middle of your science class.

“Class, today we’ll be talking about the mutation of cells.” You felt your breath hitch at that.

“Can anyone tell me the name—” A hand stretched out, as someone blurted the answer, “Cancer.” The teacher furrowed her eyebrows, mocking an angry look.

“Correct, but wait for me you pick on you first.” The class laughed, as the student eyed the teacher sheepishly. That student was not me. No wrong Mushroom.

But you. You couldn’t care less about that student. Your ears were blurry as you bent over your desk.

Cancer that’s what he died by. You choked on your sob as it caught in your throat. Earning her, some odd glances from the people around her.

Shit. Tears were so close to pouring out. It do be like that sometimes

You raised you hand, surprising the class and the teacher

“May I please use the restroom” you croaked out, standing up and motioning to leave the classroom before anyone could stop you.

You walked, almost running, away from the classroom, trying very hard to hide the sobs that you wanted to release.

“Y/N.” a gruff voice made you stop in your tracks as blonde hair peeked into your sight

“Tsukki?” you questioned, your voice cracked as you looked at him. He was panting, slightly, as he glared at you. But, you could see the anxiousness in his eyes.

“Y/N, what the—”

“Kei,” you sobbed, throwing your arms over his neck, “Kei.”

He backed away, surprised at first, but soon rested his hands on your waist pulling you towards him.

“I hate you.” you hissed, tears pouring down your cheeks as you looked up at him, “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate—”

He slammed a kiss onto your mouth, eager to shut you up I wanna be shut up now

“You read the book didn’t you.” he smirked, as you glared at him in all your anger

“I told you—”

“Shut up you useless excuse of a dinosaur.” you snapped, burrowing your face into his chest.

He smiled, stroking your hair as you sobbed into his chest, murmuring small phrases as you blabbered to him

“Ms. Y/N may I ask what you and Mr. Tsukishima are doing in the hallway?” Oh good Lord, you were screwed.

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hotdoghotdiggidydog · 2 years

Note

omg i’m so happy to hear that! i was wondering if u could write something where shield is sort of shady and they DO get yelena to do a mission where she needs to sleep with someone for info and they sort of emotionally guilt her into doing it by making her feel like it’s super important. and when she gets back she like throws up or something and steve is around and notices and then bucky or steve notices marks on her body and puts it together and yeah stuff happens

ik it’s super dark so if ur not comfy i totally understand ❤️

Foreign Safety pt.3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Warnings: Graphic SA description (take care of yourself pls ❤️)

Disclaimer: the Russian is translated form google translate. It’s most likely inaccurate, sorry :(

——————————————————————————

Yelena is woken up at 2:30am. Her mind still foggy from the nightmares she had. She opens her eyes and sees that Bucky and Steve are still sleeping beside her. She looks up at the door, in search of what woke her from her slumber.

“Yelena, can I meet with you?” Tony says from the door way. Yelena tenses up, knowing he’s most likely going to talk about the mission. She slowly nods her head and gets up from the bed. Slowly, so that she doesn’t wake either Bucky or Steve.

She hears her blood pumping as she walks out the room. Tony leads her to the common room, and sits down on one of the chairs. Yelena does the same, sitting across from him.

“Yelena, I know what they told you. They think you can’t do this mission. I know you can. Don’t you want to be like Natasha and be an asset to the team?”

“We’ll, yes but-” Yelena’s cut off.

“Perfect. The clothes we have set for you are in the quinjet. I have the preferences of the man in his file. That should tell you more about your job on the mission.”

Yelena nods her head, and makes her way outside and onto the quinjet. When she does, she sees the clothes Tony told her about. They were the usual short dress with lacy panties, tights, and of course, no bra. As she looks at herself in the mirror, she’s reminded of all the other times she was put in this situation.

Her hair is nice and messy, “just like he prefers.” She had read the file and to say she was scared was an understatement. She keeps telling herself that by doing this, she’s helping them gain I tell on Hydra and she’ll finally be helpful.

——————————————————————————

John Walters, 42, Male

Preferences

-Underage Girls -Asserting Domimance

-Blondes -Non-Consensual Play

-Small

-Non-Talkative Girls

——————————————————————————

Yelena takes a deep breath as the quinjet door open and she’s then led to a car. They spend only a couple minutes on the road, until they pull into a big house.

On shaking legs, Yelena feels unstable with the heels she’s wearing and the nerves she is feeling. When she knocks on the door, a tall older man opens the door. He dresses in a white tank top and his boxer shorts.

He grabs her hair, and pulls her into his house. She stumbles due to the aggressiveness. Her left heel breaks as she collided to the floor.

“Get up Bitch. Go to the room.” He kicks her on the side of her thigh. Yelena scurries into the open bedroom.

He throws her onto the bed and takes off his belt. He wraps it around her mouth and head, making it impossible to talk. He bounds her arms to the top of the head board. He wastes no time and ripped her tights at her center and upper thighs. He pushes the small piece of fabric she had covering her center and thrusts into her at once.

Yelena screams around the belt. She doesn’t remember it being this bad. She feels this burning she never felt before, and she feels her mind start to get cloudy. Her vision is blurry due to the tears that stream down her face.

Yelena doesn’t know how much time passes until he gets tired and inbounds her. He lays down onto his bed and goes to sleep. She lays frozen for a couple moments. Till finally, she undoes the belt around her head.

She makes her way out of the room and stops at what she believes to be his office. She quietly goes through the cabinets and finds hydra files. The ones they were looking for. She takes them and runs out the house. She runs 2 miles barefooted due to her heel being broken. Until finally, she sees the quinjet in the middle of a field. She runs to it as fast as she can.

As she gets aboard, the pilot says nothing at her distressed state. She’s taken back to the Avengers compound and enters at 6:40am.

As she opens the front doors, she sees Steve and Bucky waiting on the couch worried expressions. When they see her, their stomachs turn.

She has a pink welting mark around her mouth, her thoughts are ripped and there’s obvious blood trickling down her thighs. Her hair is a mess, and they notice that she’s barefoot. Another thing they notice are the hydra files in her hands.

She drops the files and runs to them. They hold her as she cries into their shirts.

“I’m so sorry kid.” She tightens her hold on Bucky in responds. Steve leaves a light kiss on her temple than gets up from the couch.

Yelena stays in Buckys arms as he tries to calm her down.

Steve walks down the halls angrily until he meets Tony’s door. He doesn’t even knock before going in. He sees a sleeping Tony in his bed, but he’s quickly awoken by Steve punching him against the wall rather harshly.

“What the hell Steve?!”

“I told you no! She’s a KID! You come downs stairs and you see what you let happen.” Steve grabs him by the shirt and drags him back to the living room.

As they enter, they see Yelena throwing up in a trash bucket as Bucky lightly hold her hair back. Tony’s heart sinks to his stomach when he sees the state she’s in. When she sees Tony standing in the room, she cowers back against one of the walls.

“No! Please! Don’t want to! Don’t want to! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please. Please.” She repeats as her hands hide her face. She’s hyperventilating at this point.

“Tony, go get Nat!” Tony runs though the halls to Natasha’s room.

When Natasha opens her door, she hears Yelena’s screams and instantly runs out. She’s furious when she sees Yelena. “Who the hell sent her on that mission?!” When she yells, Yelena winces. Her anger drops and all she feels is sadness for her little sister.

“vse v poryadke, malysh. ponyal tebya. ya ne pozvolyu nikomu prichinit' tebe bol' (it’s okay little one. I got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you).” She holds Yelena until she calms down.

“Who sent her on this mission?” She asks calmly, voice week.

Both Steve and Bucky look Tony and it all click in Natasha’s head. She nods her head. She has a couple tears fall from her eyes.

“Steve, can you carry her up to my room please?” She gets up, and lets Steve take hold of the young girl. They all leave Tony in the common room as they head into Natasha’s room.

Natasha heads into her bathroom and runs the bath. As she does that, Steve and Bucky look to Yelena and see that she has her eyes closed.

“Put her in the tub.” Natasha sits on the side of the tub with a cup in hand.

“With her clothes on?” Bucky asks.

“She’s not going to let anyone take her clothes off. Just out her in please.” Steve sets Yelena into the tub and Yelena just curled into a ball again, putting her face between her knees.

Natasha runs her hand from Yelena’s head to her back. She fills the cup with water and runs it over Yelena’s body.

“We’re gonna be on your bed. Let us know if you need anything.” Bucky says, but before he and Steve can leave true bathroom, Natasha speaks up.

“Wait. Can you sit in here with her? I have to go talk to Tony.” Both men look at each other, both thinking the same thing.

“Look, we would, but given what she’s been been though last night, are you sure you want us to be with her? We don’t want to overstep.” Steve asks.

“I’m okay with it if she is. Hold on.” She turns back to yelena, who hasn’t moved an inch. “ty v poryadke, yesli Baki i Stiv ostanutsya zdes' s toboy? (Are you okay if Bucky and Steve stay with you?)”

“da, oni ne prichinyayut mne bol', kak drugim muzhchinam. (Yeah, they don’t hurt me like other men).” Natasha smiles slightly at her words.

“ty prav. oni ne prichinyat tebe vreda. oni khoroshi. (You’re right. They won’t hurt you. They’re good).” She places a soft kiss on top of her head. “She’s okay with it. You guys have never given me a reason to not trust you.” She heads out of the bathroom and walks through the halls. Tony doesn’t know what he signed up for when he sent Yelena on that mission.

Steve slowly sits next to the bath tub. He reaches for a wash cloth and gets water on it. “Is it okay if I wash the blood of of your Lena?” She lifts her head and nods.

He starts first by washing her face off, careful around the welt. He washes her neck when he sees bruises and hickeys. He notices a hand mark stretched along it. He sighs and continues. He washes off her arms where he unfortunately sees more bruises.

While he washes her off, he hears Bucky speak to her in Russian. He tells her stories about when they were kids, and all the trouble they used to cause. His stories earn a couple smiles from the girl.

He wipes off her legs, not going past her mid thigh. He’ll let Nat do that part. Now that she’s mostly washes off, Bucky takes Steve’s place and grabs the cup. They get her hair wet and get some of Nat’s shampoo. The scent calms Yelena even more, making her feel safer that ever.

Bucky washes her hair. They get her a towel and some of Nat’s pajamas and leave the bathroom to give her privacy.

When she’s done getting dressed, she opens the door and grabs a brush and a pony tail. She sits in front of Bucky on the bed and hands him the brush. He’s confused, but goes along with it.

He brushes out all the tangles and put her hair into a simple braid. They take over Natashas bed and watch cartoons they thought Yelena would like. Soon, she falls asleep. When Natasha comes in, they’re surprised to see her knuckles not filled with blood. However, you could see the tear stains along her cheeks.

“Come here Nat.” Bucky opens his arms and Natasha lays next to him and Yelena. Steve on the other side of the small girl. The beds big enough to accommodate them, especially since both girls slept basically deeply across both men.

Maybe this dynamic would work. Natasha remember feeling safe around them when she first met them. She’s glad her sister feels the same way.

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pluckyredhead · 4 years

Text

wip amnesty: super sons fake dating (but different)

So while I was working on It Wouldn’t Be Make Believe (If You Believed In Me), my brain abruptly gave me a completely different Super Sons fake dating scenario, insisted that I write two scenes, and then abandoned me entirely. There is like a 1% chance that I will ever finish this so instead I offer it up to you, my very patient friends. (Don’t worry, I have different Jon/Damian fics planned!)

Also, this completely ignores the Bendis run, because...well, you know why. SIGH.

Damian cast a weary eye over the guests assembled at the gala, the latest tribute of the Gotham elite to their own wealth and frivolity. He wasn’t even sure what this one was ostensibly raising money for, but he had a feeling most of that money had gone into the refreshments and entertainment rather than the intended charitable recipients.

He hated these things, but Father was in space with the Justice League, Richard was undercover, Drake was on Earth-3, and Todd was just generally unsuitable for public consumption. Once again it fell to Damian, as the heir to the Wayne name, to carry the entire family on his shoulders. He usually didn’t mind, except when it took the form of wearing a tuxedo and making small talk with empty-headed socialites.

Maybe the Riddler or someone would show up and try to steal everyone’s jewelry. That would be a pleasing diversion.

He saw Gracie Van Nuyck, daughter of one of the few Gotham families older than the Waynes, making her way over to him and quickly took out his phone. He was meant to be the latest irresponsible Wayne playboy; he could be rude and spend a whole party texting and not talking to anyone as long as he kept a stupid expression on his face.

He already had a few texts from Jon, he saw when he unlocked his phone.

giant kraken attacking honolulu

titans & i r teleporting over

u in?

Damian clicked his tongue.

I know you’re overriding your autocorrected capitalization to irritate me.

And I can’t. I have to attend this gala.

sucks 2 b u 🐟 🐠 🐬

“Damian Wayne.” Gracie had not been put off by his texting - in fact, she had her own phone in her hand. Damian dimly remembered that she’d once told him she was an “influencer.” She had influenced him pretty strongly to get as far away from her as possible, so he supposed she was good at what she did. “Look at you, all dressed up and looking like a snack.”

“Gracie,” he said. “Nice to see you.” He did not attempt to make it convincing, or glance up from his phone more than briefly.

Trust me, I’m aware. Everyone here is an imbecile and none of the hors d'oeuvres are vegetarian.

“Do you like my dress?” Gracie asked, giving a little twirl.

“Lovely.” Damian did not have Richard’s ability to give genuine compliments, or even Father’s ability to fake them well. It didn’t deter Gracie in the slightest.

“I have a proposition for you, you beautiful boy,” she said.

“I’m the same age as you.”

that blows. what about the orderbs?

Damian fought a smile. I also know you know how hors d’oeuvres is pronounced.

😂 😂 😉

“What’s that smile for?” Gracie asked.

Damian forced his facial expression back to neutral. “What’s your proposition?”

She held up her hands like she was illuminating a marquee. “Gotham’s new dream couple: Dacie. Or we could be Gramian, I guess, but that sounds horrible.”

“Excuse me?”

“You and me, joining forces,” she said. “Me and my millions and my beautiful body, you and your millions and your beautiful body...we’d be the toast of the glitterati.”

“You want to date me,” Damian said, flatly, disbelievingly. This was what Father and Richard’s inability to resist a pretty face had brought him to: being literally propositioned at parties by socialites who thought every Wayne was an easy mark.

“I want to date you,” she agreed. “It must be your lucky day. Well, night.”

Damian stared at her for a long moment, just enough to let it become uncomfortable. “No,” he said finally, and turned back to his phone.

once weve kicked this things ass i bet i can bring u some shave ice before it melts

Bring the kraken instead. It can eat everyone here.

“No?” Gracie repeated.

“No, thank you,” Damian said, as a sop to good manners.

He glanced up. She looked bewildered. It might be the first time she’d ever been told no in her life. “Why not?”

“I’m seeing someone,” he said. Totally untrue, but a reason she couldn’t argue with.

Not that she didn’t try. “Oh? Who’s the lucky girl?” she asked, her expression calculating.

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Not sure why you would assume pronouns,” he said, more to wrong foot her than anything else, though it was true that gender didn’t make much difference to him. He disliked most people equally.

Her eyes widened before she recovered herself. “My apologies,” she said. “Do I know...uh, them?”

Damian’s phone buzzed in his hand. It was a selfie of Jon, with Billy and Lian pulling faces behind him and a tentacle snaking through the air above their heads. Idiots. He fought another smile.

Stop taking selfies before you get drowned.

“It’s a long distance relationship,” he said. The last thing he needed was Gracie tracking down Colin or Maya or someone and pestering them.

no its cool we made friends with it

i gave it ur shave ice

sorry

“Oh?” Gracie asked. “Where do they live?”

Out of the corner of his eye Damian could see that she seemed to be on her phone too, so he felt even less bad about ignoring her. “Metropolis,” he said, because it was the first city he thought of. You traitor, he texted Jon.

“Innnteresting,” she said. “Well, it was worth a shot. See you around, hot stuff.” She brushed a kiss in the air near his cheek and sauntered off.

Damian blinked. That had been...relatively painless. Maybe the whole night would go by so quickly and easily.

He checked the time. Three and a half hours to go.

Tt.

Jon had heard the noise before he stepped outside, but he hadn’t really processed it. Metropolis was a noisy city, and if there were no gunshots or cries for help, he had gotten pretty good at tuning it out.

Which was why he was so surprised when he walked out of his apartment building to be confronted with a sea of reporters flashing cameras at him.

“Jon!”

“Jon Kent!”

“Jon, over here!”

His heart stopped. Had they somehow found out he was Superboy? Which meant they knew about Dad, and Mom was probably in danger, and all of his friends, and…

“Jon, long have you and Damian Wayne been dating?”

What?

“Back off, you vultures! Leave him alone!” Uncle Jimmy emerged from the crowd, red-faced and disheveled. He put one hand in front of Jon’s face and the other on his shoulder. “No comment! He has no comment! Come on, Jon, back inside.”

Thoroughly baffled, Jon allowed Uncle Jimmy to steer him back into the building.

“Hey, Frank, don’t let any of them in unless Mr. or Mrs. Lane-Kent says it’s cool, okay?” Uncle Jimmy said to the doorman.

Frank, who Jon had known since they moved here when he was ten, put his imposing frame in front of the door. “Absolutely not,” he said.

“Thanks, Frank,” Jon managed, and waited until he and Jimmy were in the elevator and out of sight of the reporters. “What the heck is going on?”

“You’re a social media sensation, kiddo,” Uncle Jimmy said, and held up his phone to display a picture of Damian wearing a tuxedo and looking elegantly bored. “Apparently Bruce Wayne’s kid told someone called ‘GraceFace’ that he was dating a boy who lived in Metropolis, and she told her three million Instagram followers. A bunch of them found this photo.” He swiped to show a slightly blurry picture of Jon and Damian in Centennial Park, clearly taken on a cell phone by someone moving quickly. Jon remembered that day but hadn’t realized anyone had recognized Damian, though it did happen. “And someone figured out your name.”

“And assumed I’m the boy Damian is dating in Metropolis,” Jon said, putting it together. “Wait. Is he dating someone in Metropolis? Did he mean me? Why would he say we were dating?”

Uncle Jimmy held up a finger. “No, first question before that: how the hell do you know Damian Wayne?”

“Uh.” Jon paused. Uncle Jimmy knew all about him and Dad, since he was basically Dad’s best friend, but not any Gotham secret identities, and Jon was pretty sure both Damian and Mr. Wayne wanted to keep it that way.

Uncle Jimmy’s eyes flicked to the counter that showed what floor they were on. “And before we get to your apartment...any chance you want to give me the exclusive on this saga of young love?”

Jon’s mouth dropped open. “Uncle Jimmy!”

“What? I’m a reporter, it’s in my blood!”

“I’m telling my mom you asked me that.”

“No, please, tell your dad. He can only heat vision me or throw me out the window. Either way it’ll be quick.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m telling Mom.”

#super sons #damian wayne #robin #jon kent #superboy #i write things #i love gracie and she should be canon

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haikyuu-sickies · 4 years

Text

ship : tsukkiyama. | tsukishima x yamaguchi |

genre : fluff.

warning : none.

—

From the moment Tsukishima’s eyes peeled open, he knew that his day was going to be a bad one. From the way his head pounded, to the way his muscles ached - and not to mention how gloomy today was. It was dark, foggy, and he could hear small drops of rain splashing against the road. There were no cars, signifying that it was probably very early in the morning.

Groggily, he sat up in his bed ; hastily searching for his glasses. He finally found them, grabbing and putting them on. A small scoff escaped his lips, forcing him into a coughing fit that rendered him breathless. Soon after he finished, he found his chest feeling tight, and his breaths rigid. He felt so hot... A small whimper escaped his lips, he felt so horrible. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so sick. His nose was stuffed, so he couldn’t even breathe through his nose. But he didn’t have time for a break. He didn’t have time for this.

Checking the time, he soon realised why there were no cars. It was 5 in the morning. He figured that it’d take him some time to get ready, considering how shitty he felt. So it was only for the best. At least he wouldn’t run late. His boyfriend, Yamaguchi, always told him to look on the positive side of things. So that’s what he tried to do. It took him a while to get out of bed, and to walk to the bathroom too. Probably over 10 minutes. With a small cough, he cringed at the way he looked in the mirror. His skin was all clammy, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he was visibly sweating, it wasn’t a good look on him.

Quickly taking off his glasses, he began to wash his face. The ice cold water splashing against his face sent a shiver throughout his entire body. He didn’t like this feeling. It made him want to genuinely cry. He didn’t even know how he was supposed to go to practice, or hide it from his far too observant boyfriend. He supposed he’d have to pass it off as a cold, and not sleeping well. Not that he thought it’d work. He got dressed, tried fixing himself up so he wouldn’t look as crappy, which - much to his dismay, didn’t do much. By the time he was finished, he received a text from his lovely boyfriend.

From : yams 💖

Time : 7:00 am

Hey, Tsukki! R u coming? You’re running a little late. Is everything okay? 😅

To : yams 💖

Time : 7:01 am

Mhm. Woke up late. Didn’t sleep good. Sorry.

From : yams 💖

Time : 7:01 am

Aww, that’s okay! Take ur time. Well, not too much bc we’re gonna be late. Y’know what I mean!! <33

To : yams 💖

Time : 7:03 am

Mk. See you soon.

He felt bad for making him wait, and for lying, but he felt so sickly. And he didn’t want to make him deal with it. Sighing, and sniffling a bit - he put on his shoes, and tried his best to get there on time. Thankfully, he managed to get to Yamaguchi just in time. With a small nod of his head as a greeting, they began to walk to school. As he anticipated ; Yamaguchi immediately noticed how clammy his skin was. He could already feel his worried gaze lingering on him, watching every slow, shaky step he took. Every small sway his body made, signalling that no, he wasn’t doing all that great. Not in the slightest.

But he didn’t say anything, since Tsukishima had told him that he hadn’t slept well. But eventually, as in, after a few seconds, he just couldn’t help but worry. He couldn’t help but ask him if he was okay. Tsukishima obviously didn’t look okay, and his boyfriend, Yamaguchi - or as Tsukishima tended to call him, Yams, was too worried for his own good. Too worrisome for his lover, that he couldn’t help but ask him a simple question, that he already thought he knew the answer too. But Tsukishima was smart, despite the way he felt, the way he felt knives stabbing into his head, the way his muscles ached, the way he felt so weak, as though he’d collapse at any second - and not to mention how hot he was, how stuffed his nose was, he just - wasn’t okay. But he’d simply downplay it, instead of denying he was sick at all.

“Tsukki? I’m sorry but- are you okay?”

Tsukishima knew that question would come up. He stifled a small cough into his fist, nodding, despite the fact that he was swaying on his feet, which were visibly trembling. On one side, admitting that he was sick could go against him. But as long as he managed to downplay it enough, just as one of those nasty colds that went away in about 2 days, then he figured that Yamaguchi wouldn’t worry as much. At least, that was the reaction he was hoping for. Hopefully it’d work in his favour.

“Mm. Cold. It’s a cold. I took medicine. It should kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“What about volleyball? Do you think you can make it to practice?”

“Of course. I told you, it’s just a cold. I’ll make it. N I’ll nap when I get home.”

“Tsukki, your voice- it’s so... Rough. It sounds painful. Sure the medicine is going to kick in?”

“Yeah. ‘M sure.”

He didn’t want to speak too much. He wasn’t that much of a talker in general, but his throat hurt so much - he could hardly swallow. But of course, he kept up his stone walls, and said that he was perfectly fine. Which was completely normal to him, of course. Yamaguchi avoided asking anymore questions, and just went with it, despite not being completely sure that he was fine.

But during classes, Yamaguchi had noticed that Tsukishima was getting progressively worse and worse. He noticed the way he struggled to stifle coughing fits, the way he wiped sweat off his forehead, the way he shivered, the way he clutched his heaving chest after every coughing fit he stifled. Not to mention that he missed a few questions from the teacher, who kindly excused him, and told him not to worry, that it was fine out of her own place of worry, and kindness.

And then practice rolled around. Tsukishima was exhausted. He could barely walk without swaying, his legs trembled so much he felt as though he’d collapse at any minute. He could hardly properly walk down the stairs. His ears were slightly ringing, his head was pounding in his ears ; only adding onto the ringing, he felt like he was about to faint any second. So he freshened up in the boys bathroom, got changed in there to avoid the others, and went to practice. He wasn’t swaying as much, but he was leaning on any wall he could find for support.

“Tsukishima, we’re going to have a small practice match, would you like to join us? You don’t seem like you’re doing too good, you can sit out if you want?”

Daichi suggested, he shook his head ; as if to reject sitting out of the match. He silently walked onto one side of the court, not paying any attention as to who, what and why they were even doing this. Everything felt hot, blurry. He was trying so hard to focus, he didn’t even move once the ball was in the air. He felt like he was overheating. Everything was going in slow motion, yet he couldn’t make a single movement. He could feel all eyes on him, whilst a small, strained cough escaping his lips. And suddenly, everything went completely black.

After a few hours, he felt his heavy eyelids opening - only to be greeted with the face of his loving, and very worried boyfriend, along with a few other heads staring at down at him. He could hear a few voices, but he hadn’t fully gained consciousness - so he couldn’t hear exactly what it was that they were saying. Once his blurry vision cleared out, and he was visibly looking around. Only to figure out that him and Yamaguchi were on a bench, him laying down on Yamaguchi’s lap. He let out a groan, attempting to sit up.

“Easy, Tsukki...”

Yamaguchi spoke, hand on his back - helping him sit up. He tried to speak, but found that his voice was now gone. He felt so much weaker than before, and much more groggy - considering that he’d just woken up after collapsing. The others eyed him worriedly, Sugawara placing a hand on his shoulder, and giving him a reassuring smile. It did make him feel a bit more reassured - it didn’t take away of the embarrassment.

“I’ll take him home.”

“Come on, Tsukki - careful. Think you can stand?”

He gave a nod, leaning onto Yamaguchi, who helped him stand up. Saying a quick goodbye to everyone, Yamaguchi helped Tsukishima all the way home. Akiteru was still at work, considering that practice hand ended, so Yamaguchi would have to take care of Tsukishima by himself. Which, he didn’t really mind doing. This was his boyfriend, after all. He wasn’t afraid of him throwing up or anything. And he’d taken care of him a few times before, but, those times - it was just a simple cold. And this was pretty different than your average cold.

Once they came back to Tsukishima’s place, Yamaguhi helped Tsukishima into his room, he suggested to help him with his clothes - but he, of course, stubborn as he is, said he’d get changed by himself. In the meantime, he went in the kitchen to make him some tea. Knowing Tsukishima, he most likely would refuse to eat anything. So he decided to put it off until a little later, he hoped that Tsukishima would gain an appetite a little later. Which usually, was the case. At least in the past times he’d taken care of Tsukishima.

Once he came back, he was greeted with the sight of Tsukishima in his dinosaur onesie, cuddled up in his blankets, visibly drifting off. It brought a smile to his face. He walked up to his bed, sitting down next to him, and placing a small hand on his back - gently shaking him awake. He tried his best not to be too forceful. Tsukishima carefully sat up, stifling a few coughs into his arm. Yamaguchi giving him a sympathetic smile, and handing the teacup to him. He placed a small kiss on his forehead, beginning to play with his hair, to give him a sense of comfort whilst he drank his tea.

As soon as he finished, he placed it down on the bedside table. Laying down almost immediately, gently pulling down on Yamaguchi’s sleeve - as if to ask him to cuddle. Which, naturally, was very rare for Tsukishima. He had taken off his shoes and everything, but his clothes weren’t the cleanest. He was about to speak, only to be pulled into laying down. Yamaguchi let out a small giggle, wrapping his arms around Tsukishima - and for the first time, he was the ‘big spoon’.

“Thanks...”

Tsukishima muttered, eyes closed. Yamaguchi, in turn, placed a kiss another kiss on his cheek. Tsukishima was so cute when he was sick, and even though it pained Yamaguchi to see his precious boyfriend so sick - he was so adorable. Well, he always was. But at least now, he didn’t deny it as much as he usually did. He was glad to have Tsukishima, and so was he.

“Tsukki, you don’t have to thank me. I’ll always take care of you, I won’t leave your side until you’re better!”

| the render used in the edit above is not mine! If anyone knows who created it, please let me know and I’ll credit them right away. |

#tsukishima #yamaguchi #tsukkiyama #sickfic #sick #Haikyuu #haikyuu sickfics #haikyuu tsukkiyama #haikyuu sick #hq #idk

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stewyonmolly · 4 years

Note

hi! idk if ur taking prompts or anything but can you write something abt peter being (selectively) mute? it can come from him being autistic or as a coping mechanism or however! even better if tony can help overcome it. thank u sm❣️

lemme just preface with the fact that my experiences are not universal and that i didn’t even understand that i’m literally selectively mute until less than a week ago. nevertheless, i hope this fulfills what you wanted <3

---

Peter doesn’t mean to be doing it.

It’s just that he’s been laying flat atop his sheets for almost two hours now, letting the idle spin of the white ceiling fan raise chills on his legs where they jab out of his too-loose boxers.

He’s got an incessant humming at the back of his neck though the rest of him is cavernous and cool. His eyes hurt. He can’t sleep.

He’s snapping one of MJ’s hair ties against the inside of his wrist. It’s supposed to make him come back into his body. It isn’t working. It feels like he’s up there bobbing on the breeze from the fan. Like suspension as a concept is tenuous and there is no webbing and Peter has been freefalling for ages and he still can’t see the ground.

He’d rather splat. He’d rather hit the ground, guts and grime and all, than keep hovering.

Johnny is off doing alien shit. MJ has an internship. May is on a shift. Ned hasn’t answered his texts.

There’s nothing holding him here.

It’s all too easy to let go.

Peter’s vision slips out of focus.

Time moves like ribbon curls and spilled honey; like sanded wood planks and fingerprints smudged on window panes; like the starchy water left after boiling potatoes and wet ink bleeding across the page.

It is all angles and pains and endless fields of undulating wheat, and then it isn’t.

Focus is painfully sharp. He immediately wants to retreat back into himself.

There’s a warm hand on his wrist. Peter fumbles the hair tie. It snaps onto fingers that are not his, rather than the thin skin over his palm.

“Stop that,” says Tony’s gruff voice, “quit it, kid, stop.”

Peter blinks. He turns towards Tony. He doesn’t know why Tony is in his apartment.

“School called,” Tony says, as if he reads minds. “You didn’t show up. They called May, and she called me to come and check on you since her shift isn’t up until twelve.”

Peter looks idly at Tony.

Tony’s hand skims over Peter’s forehead so lightly that Peter isn’t sure it happened. Peter thinks Tony’s palm is shaking. Peter thinks Tony’s eyes look heavy.

“One of those days?” Tony says.

Peter breathes. Somewhere inside his chest the answer is pulsating—it’s grabbing onto his ribs and rattling them like prison bars—but nothing. Nothing rises to his mouth.

Something, some great and primordial It, stoppers his throat, makes him stupid. Helpless. He fucking hates being helpless. All he does is try not to be.

He closes his eyes when his lower lip trembles. His throat is painfully tight. He hates feeling like this. He doesn’t get it. Nothing happened. Why does he feel like he’s sunk a foot into the foam of his mattress.

“Alright,” Tony says. “Hey, okay, I’m here now. We can fix this. I know we can. You know the first step? Because I do and I’m willing to share my answer with the class. Here it is: sit up. That’s the first thing. That’s always the first step. Come on, up, let’s sit up.”

Tony’s hand squeezes Peter’s shoulder three times, fast. Peter pushes himself up. He must. Because he’s sitting. His elbows feel strange. Too big. Too bendy.

“Hey, look at that,” says Tony. “You nailed it. Olympic gold worthy. I’ll contact the YMCA. You need a minute? Let’s take a minute. Step one, done. You earned a minute, I’m—here, scoot. Move that leg, I’m coming in hot like a mofo. Do the kids say that? I think I heard it on a TV show once and, frankly, it baffled me.”

Tony wedges himself onto Peter’s mattress and leans back against the headboard.

Peter looks at him, all decked in a massive hoodie and ratty sweatpants. His face is strange and blurry. Warped like he’s watching the bottom of a swimming pool writhe. Peter feels like he doesn’t recognize Tony. Peter feels like he would recognize Tony blind and backwards and upside down. He does not understand this feeling. It’s infuriating. He wants to reach down his throat and into his chest and pull it out like those clown napkins neatly tied in brightly-colored knots.

Tony sighs, settling against Peter’s pillows.

He gives a good show. As if this is normal. Any of this at all.

Tony turns his head towards Peter, then pats Peter’s cold kneecap.

He turns away again.

Peter thinks that if some magic spell could summon from his chest the sound that has been pushed so deep it would never otherwise be heard, it would be a guttural, fractured scream.

His finger loops around the hair tie.

Before he can snap it, Tony’s hand stops him. Cuffs around Peter’s wrist, all calluses and divots and swirled prints.

Peter can feel every rise and fall against his skin.

“How are we doing during our little interlude?” Tony says. “More interlude? Less interlude? Terminated interlude? All of the above are fine. Just keep me updated. A memo on my desk will suffice.”

Peter clenches his jaw.

“Oh, he’s mad. Okay. I can give you time. How about the next step for today is a shower? You look like you’re fucking freezing. Go take a warm shower. I’ll do that fancy thoughtful thing where I throw a towel in the dryer for you so it’s all toasty when you get out. Remember to wash behind your ears and everything.”

Tony slides off the mattress and stands beside it. He stares at Peter, open, patient.

Peter pushes himself off the mattress. The floor beneath his feet feels like a memory.

Tony says, “Hey, look at you! Nice. We’re making shit happen, folks. Into the bathroom with you, young one. Throw your towel out the door. I’ll go fix it up nice.”

Peter follows the instructions at half-pace.

In the shower, he finds himself sitting under the stream. He does not remember why he sat. He doesn’t feel lightheaded. Or nauseous. Or anything else at all.

He finds his footing. Stands. Soaps himself.

The garbled sound of the water calms him, even if he feels matted eight layers deep.

When he gets out, the towel is waiting beside a stack of his clothes. All of them are warmed.

He gets dressed and pads out of the bathroom.

Tony is standing at the stove. He’s cooking something. Peter cannot tell what it is.

Tony snorts. “You tuck your sweatpants into your socks? God, I shouldn’t be surprised. You do seem like the sock-tucking type. I bet you single-cuff your jeans or something. Fold your underwear in thirds. Hang your sweaters.”

The worst thing is that Peter has the comeback ready. Like a normal person? he wants to say. Like a normal person? sits on the back of his tongue. He can’t say the words. Neurotypical who? Not him.

God, even joking in his own freaking head sounds discordant.

Peter pushes himself up onto the counter and sits, legs dangling.

Tony continues to cook. Every once in a while, Tony will start to hum, then stop. He’ll get halfway into a verse and then quit as if he forgets the words.

Peter cannot pick up a single melody.

Tony is rather suddenly before him, plate in hand. It’s laden with eggs and turkey sausage. Two slices of toast. A peeled orange.

Tony peeled an orange without Peter noticing. Without smelling, even.

Peter takes the plate. It wavers in his hands but he rights it.

Tony does not begin to clean the cookware until Peter has stabbed a sausage with his fork and begun to chew it.

His mouth feels like it’s full of glue. His whole existence is a cotton ball. Fucking Christ. He’s so tired of feeling like this.

The next time Tony taps him, it’s on the elbow.

Peter starts.

Tony catches his plate before it can slip off his lap.

Tony taps Peter’s temple twice. “You’ve been—out there for a while. That place I can’t follow you. Food is getting cold. I expect it all to be finished. I know I’m the cool parent but I will not budge on this one.”

Peter stares.

“I know,” Tony says, voice breaking. “God, I know, Pete. It’s okay. Just some breakfast. It’s fine. You can do that, I know you can.”

Peter knows he can too. He knows he can, and he’s pissed because he feels like the crater punched into the earth’s crust that wiped out the dinosaurs, all smoking and empty and awful. He can finish a plate of fucking eggs. Toast. He loves oranges. He can do this.

It feels like he can’t. It feels like an undertaking. The epic sort.

He grits his teeth, stabs a chunk of egg, and does it. It’s like pulling himself along by the ends of his nails, but on the inside.

When he’s finished, he feels sick rather than bolstered.

But Tony takes his plate, grinning, and washes it for him. Whistling from between his teeth, now.

Peter’s finger hooks the hair tie. He knows that if he snaps it hard enough he’ll come back.

He does it once, twice. Nothing. He hears the slap against his skin. It feels like nothing more than a pinch.

“Hey, stop that,” Tony says, hands wet and sudsy as he takes the tie off Peter’s wrist.

Peter blinks at his skin. It’s mottled red, lightly bruised. He hadn’t realized.

It was supposed to fix him.

“I’m keeping this. I’ll personally give it back to Michelle. This isn’t May’s. It’s not May’s, right? She only uses scrunchies. She’s a child of the flowers, bless her hippie heart. Okay. Pocketing it. Let me finish the dishes. I need May to love me. Okay. Be right back.”

Tony pats Peter’s knee before he goes.

Peter watches the wet spot from Tony’s hand grow on the fabric of his sweats.

Tony brings him to the couch. The couch is not big. It is deep and too soft and sometimes, if you sit wrong, you get a butthole piercing from the springs.

Tony wraps him in a blanket. And then another. One is a quilt Ben made. The other is a blanket so enormous and thick that Peter is faintly sure it will smother him.

But he lets Tony wrap him up. Because he has no other choice. And because a little part of him—one tenacious bit who hasn’t lost hope—deeply wants Tony to fix this for him, and trusts that Tony knows what he’s doing.

Tony settles onto the couch next to Peter, tossing an arm across the back. His fingertips scratch Peter’s neck, along the knots of his spine.

“We could watch something,” Tony suggests. “I tend to think watching something after eating aids the digestive process. Gets the systems moving. Sound good? Let’s watch something fun. Let’s watch Ferris Bueller. God, that poor bastard. What mother would name their child Ferris? And he’s such a successful kid too. That’s overcoming adversity right there.”

Tony fumbles with the remote. He pulls up the movie. Peter sits in his blanket nest.

The film starts with the iconic monologue sequence.

Something in Peter settles seeing it. It’s so familiar to him, he could recite the whole script end-to-end.

Not now, probably. But usually.

It itches in his chest.

Tony hums rather than laughs during movies. A soft noise with his lips pressed together. A light smile.

He seems so calm. At ease. Peter doesn’t get it. Tony is always freaking out, especially when there’s absolutely nothing wrong, but not now.

Peter can’t make himself speak and Tony isn’t freaking out. That’s weird.

But maybe it’s good. Maybe. Because Tony acting normal might make Peter’s subconscious feel normal and then everything will click back into place and Peter can stop being so helpless and pissed and nonexistent.

It doesn’t reboot his subconscious. What it does is make him sleepy. The brush of Tony’s fingers, the familiar cadence of the movie—Peter drifts, and this time, he sleeps.

He’s shaken awake what feels like hours later.

He opens a bleary eye. Everything is moving.

A great mane of braided hair whacks him across the face.

He sputters.

“Oh, shit. Sorry. Sorry, baby, just me, joining in on the cuddle sesh. Don’t worry, I changed out of my scrubs first. I know how much you hate being near my dirty work scrubs. Which astounds me, considering Ben saw you sneak a pizza crust out of the trash once when you were a kid.”

She settles next to him on the far side, where a snoring Tony isn’t.

She wraps her arm around Peter’s waist, strong and lithe and familiar, and Peter feels it.

It makes his eyes ache.

He swallows and swallows. He turns to May. He presses a firm kiss to her cheek.

“I love you too, honey,” she says, poking her nose into his neck. They’ve never needed words to communicate anyway.

He closes his eyes, warm enough to bake, surrounded on every side with stifling love.

He sleeps, chasing the sun across the sky, and when he wakes again, he wakes.

#my writing #fic request #irondad #irondad fic #hurt and comfort #peter parker #tony stark #spider-man #iron man #may parker #ironfam #irondad angst

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chemicalcindercat · 3 years

Link

Frisk freed the monsters from the underground, completing a true-pacifist run. She was living happily on the surface with her monster family. Everything was perfect. Until it wasn't. When Frisk gets hit by a car on her way over to Sans house, everything changes. Not only does Frisk forget herself, her friends, and all of her adventures in the Underground, but something else has changed. Frisk glitches the Multiverse.

Chapter Summary: Frisk gets to go through the awful experience of sleeping in past your alarm and rushing to get ready. What could go wrong?

Chapters (8/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Fandom: Undertale

Rating: T (For violence and hints of adult themes)

Relationships: Sans x Frisk, Underfell Sans x Frisk, Underswap Papyrus x Chara, Slight Underswap Sans x Frisk

Additional Tags: Amnesia, Lost memories, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, ...Have I mentioned there is Hurt/Comfort?, Hurt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Goat Mom is best mom (Undertale), King Fluffy-Buns - Freeform, Sad Asgore (Undertale), Female Frisk (Undertale), Aged up Frisk (Undertale), Like duh she’s an adult i’m not a pedo, gross, Verbal Frisk, Frisk has a voice in her head, Sans is a depressed bean, Papyrus is so innocent, Frisk glitched the multiverse, oh whoops, spoiler alert, more tags will be added as we progress

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Frisk slowly opened her eyes to the awful beeping of her phone alarm. She just wanted five more minutes, but she knew she had to get up for the day. The newest season of Mew Mew: Kissy Cutie was airing next week, and Frisk had stayed up way too late the night before, finishing rewatching it. Slowly, Frisk reached her hand over and hit the button on her phone, turning off the alarm. I'll just sleep for five more minutes, Frisk thought. I'll have plenty of time to get ready.

Buzz.

Buzz. Buzz.

Frisk threw her pillow over her head and groaned. Who was texting her this early? And why were they being so annoying? Frisk was usually the nicest person anyone had ever met, but she was not a morning person. She needed her beauty sleep, and she just happened not to get it. Now, whoever was texting her at 7am was going to pay. She slowly reached over and picked up her phone.

Twenty new messages.

Frisk quickly put in her password, opening the messages app to see who in their right mind would text her 20 times this early.

funnybone: hey

funnybone: whats up?

funnybone: u good?

funnybone: frisk

funnybone: friiisssskkkkkkk

funnybone: answer me

funnybone: come on

funnybone: r u evn up?

funnybone: dude

funnybone: frisk

funnybone: wake up

funnybone: where r u?

funnybone: ur late

funnybone: come on

funnybone: frissskkkkkkyyyyyy

funnybone: frisk

She had to hand it to him, Sans was nothing if not persistent. Wow, she was even making puns to herself now, without him even around to hear them. Whether that was something to be proud of, or kinda terrifying, she was too tired to tell. The more important thing was why Sans was messaging her at 7am, when she wasn't even supposed to be at their house until 8:00! Frisk's heart dropped in her chest when her eyes drifted to the top left corner of her phone screen, where the time was displayed.

8:24

Oh my Dad, I'm late! She thought, using the expression she had invented when she was a little girl, and had just saved the monsters on this run. When Frisk was younger, she had reset the timelines a lot. In fact, (besides this time) the longest a true pacifist run had lasted after saving the monsters was only 3 months, before Frisk had gotten bored and restarted it all over again. This time, however, Frisk made a promise, and she wasn't going to break it. She immediately started texting Sans, explaining why she was so late.

DeterminedChild: I am so sorry guys!! I swear, I didn't forget or anything, I just slept through my alarm! I'm on my way right now.

funnybone: kk

CoolSkeleton95: DON'T WORRY, WE FORGIVE YOU

CoolSkeleton95: SANS GET UP OFF YOUR LAZY BUTT AND CLEAN WHILE WE WAIT FOR THE HUMAN TO GET HERE

funnybone: kk

Frisk laughed. Of course Papyrus would just say it in the group chat instead of only typing Sans. Frisk hurriedly got dressed, throwing on a random hoodie she had laying in her closet, jeans, and some socks. She ran down to the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time, and almost tripped on the last step. Luckily, she was able to avoid falling on her face, but the socks caused her to slip on the hardwood, and she ran into the wall across from the stairs.

"Wow, Frisk, running a little late?"

Frisk opened her eyes and rubbed her face in pain. "Good morning, Flowey." She said, without even looking over at him. She stood up, brushed herself off, and then went into the kitchen to grab a granola bar. Toriel was sitting at the table drinking some coffee.

"Good morning, Frisk, I trust you slept well?"

She asked, offering Frisk some coffee.

"Yeah, Mom, a little too well. I slept through my alarm, and I'm late to go over to the boys' house." Frisk replied, taking the coffee. She got some creamer to put in it.

"Oh, well, knowing them, it won't be that big of a problem." Toriel said.

"Yeah, that's true, but I still feel bad." Said Frisk, as she grabbed a granola bar from a cabinet. "Well, I gotta go. I'll see you later, Mom."

"Have fun, Frisk." Toriel said, as Frisk kissed her forehead. "Don't stay out too late, though, I'm making meatloaf for dinner tonight."

"Okay, Mom. Bye, Flowey!" Frisk waved to the flower, who in turn waved a leaf back as she closed the door carefully, avoiding spilling coffee on herself. Then, she started down the street. The skelebros didn't live too far away, so Frisk usually just walked over. It was only a 10 minute walk, and by speed walking she could make it in 5. She quickly ate her granola bar while she walked. It was the peanut butter kind, her favorite. Then, she chugged the coffee.

Finally, Frisk could see their house. She just needed to cross the street and she would be there. Forgetting to look both ways, Frisk started to cross the street while quickly finishing off her coffee.

Suddenly, something slammed into Frisk, and then she was flying. Or at least, it felt like it. She hit the ground with a painful hit to the head. Her vision went blurry, and the last thing she saw was Sans running over to her.

'That's weird, he never runs...' She thought, before everything went black.

~~~

The girl struggled to open her eyes through the pain, greeted by dimmed lights and plain white walls. The desk beside her had a golden flower in a pot, and a TV was mounted on the wall in front of her. This room felt familiar, she knew what it was, but she couldn't remember the name of it. 'What's it called again?' She thought. "Oh, right, a hospital room. I'm in a hospital room. Wait... why am I in a hospital room? What happened to me?' The girl clenched her forehead, trying to fight off the headache, and more importantly, trying to remember who she was.

On the desk beside her, the golden flower in the pot turned around to face her, revealing a face. It's eyes were wide with exasperation. "Oh good, Frisk, you finally woke up. Well, it took you long enough!" It said in a strange voice.

Frisk screamed.

#Amnesia #frisk #Undertale #undertale frisk #sans #sans is a text dork #but we all already knew that hahaha #frans #possible trigger warning- car accident #i guess #probably not though #i’m not THAT good at writing #let the games begin #this is gonna be a pretty wild ride

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jtrbluv · 5 years

Text

need(y) | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst/fluff

word count: 3.6k

warnings: swearing

request: Hello!! Could I get a jungkook angst/fluff imagine where you guys are becoming distant and you leave for some space and he doesn’t know and thinks that you left him?? Sorry if it’s confusing, thank youuuu :)

a/n: sheesh! this was not supposed to be this long HAHA. sorry this took so long to write school just started and it’s fr kicking my ass. i’ve already gotten so much hw for the first week grrrr. i rushes the ending a bit so i’m not quite satisfied and i didn’t edit it either so um sorry about it LOL. anyways thanks for requesting this anon!! in honor of his bday too ig haha, hope u enjoy it :)

☏ ☏ ☏

Missed Calls:

y/n <3 (11)

6:45- lmk when ur coming home i can’t wait to see you <33

8:30- u must be busy at the studio it’s okay i’ll wait

9:47- hey it’s okay if ur coming late but could u just give me a heads up

11:02- jungkook?

12:17- happy belated anniversary to you too ig

1:56- i needa stop getting my hopes up huh

Being in a relationship with a worldwide famous idol is never easy. Learning to understand and appreciate the value of the relationship regardless of its limited-time came easy to you. That’s one of the reasons why he became interested in you in the first place. You never came off as overbearing and clingy and you always understood why things had to be different. And that added to the list of things he already absolutely adored about you.

It had been a year since Jungkook had confessed to you backstage that night, asking you to be his lover and promising that he would cherish you like no one ever will. And you can confidently say he very much did at the beginning, commonly known as the honeymoon stage. Things only started to fizzle out and go downhill a few months ago. His group was scheduled for a new comeback. He was promoting and traveling around the world while you were on the sidelines and comfort of your home, cheering him and his group on. Daily texts and calls kept both of you grounded and steady, but as time passed by, those texts and calls ceased to exist. You had been constantly ignored and you didn’t think much of it at first, after all, he was a busy man with a busy schedule. The tour had finally been coming to an end and he’d have the opportunity to come home to you, just in time for your one year anniversary. He had flown in 2 weeks precedent to your anniversary, and fuck, you were so happy to be with him again.

He had made a promise to you that you two would get to spend a lot more time together as he was coming back. You two had finally been living together again after what seemed like years as his group had gotten a break after such a hectic year. He would go to his company need to work on future projects and such and it didn’t bother you at first. He would typically come back home late while you were sleeping and leave early in the morning before you would wake up. As it occurred more frequently, you started to become more concerned. He was finally home for once and he wasn’t even making time to see you. You didn’t want to seem annoying and clingy so you decided to push these thoughts to the back of your head and keep them to yourself.

You had agreed to have a celebration at home, figuring all the restaurants in the vicinity would be closed by the time he’d get home. You patiently waited in the living room, coffee table filled with his favorite foods and snacks you were able to pick up at the local convenience store. He had told you the night before he’d be coming home at 9, a little later than you liked, but you let it slide nonetheless. You essentially cherished all the time you had with him anyway, whether it be a minute, an hour, or a month.

You mindlessly sat in the living room, not paying attention to whatever was playing on the TV. Your ears were constantly alert and peeled, waiting for a familiar car to pull up to your driveway. Your eyes constantly shifted back to your front window, scanning the neighborhood to see if he was back yet or not.

Time ticked by like molasses, your patience and tolerance wavering as it went on. There were no signs of him and he wasn’t answering any of your calls and texts. You were in complete disbelief at the fact that he didn’t have the decency to spend time with you on your first anniversary. Everything you had been holding in was starting to seep out of you, anger and sadness fuming from your system as you ask yourself the same question: Why do you constantly put yourself in this situation? Being hopeful for something just to let it get torn down again. Is that what your relationship has turned into? An insurmountable lost hope?

For the first time, you realized all you’ve been doing his abiding by him, waiting for his cues, going off of his beck and call. You were being walked all over, and you didn’t realize until that moment. For the first time, you were fed up.

You groan in frustration as you snatch your phone from the coffee table. It was 2:34 AM. You furrow your brows as you see how late it is, and how many hours it’s been since he was supposed to come home. Your emotions took control of you as you hastily shut off the TV, charging into your room as you recklessly grab one of your backpacks and stuff random clothes into it. You grab the nearest hoodie you could find and slipped it on as you grabbed your wallet, keys, and phone. You abruptly halt at the doorway, deciding to write a small note for him before you left. What were the chances he would see it anyway?

I need some time alone to think. Please do not contact me during this time. -Y/N

You stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut behind you. You quickly started your car and pulled out of your driveway and into the streets. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just didn’t want to stay in that house any longer. The streets were empty and the sky was dull and overcast. You let the streets guide you, taking whatever twist and turn you happened to encounter. Your hands were gripped tightly along the steering wheel as tears slipped out of your eyes. You quickly wipe them away as you recalibrate your focus on the road ahead of you. You decided it’d be best to stay at a hotel for now, until you could think of a better solution to all of this. You were able to find a hotel that had lower rates since you literally bought it on the spot.

You checked into the hotel and quickly escaped to your room. You throw your backpack to the floor as you lower yourself into the cold, unfamiliar sheets of the bed. You contemplate your options. As much as you didn’t want to admit, all your actions leading up to that moment had been caused by pent up rage and frustration in the heat of the moment. In spite of that, you didn’t regret what you had done. It felt as if time had frozen and it would only continue once Jungkook became aware of what you had done. So you were going to wait.

Jungkook stumbled into the home, hair disheveled and vision blurry from his near sleepless night. While working at the studio he had unknowingly fallen asleep while working on a track. All of his members had already gone back home so there was no one to wake him up or remind him of his girlfriend that was waiting patiently back home for him, ready to celebrate a long-awaited and special day.

All traces of the anniversary had slipped his mind as soon as he slid into a deep slumber back at the studio. He trudges around the house and his eyes land on the organized display of snacks on the coffee table. His eyes shift to the blanket and pillow that you two tended to share was all crumpled on the couch. The lightbulb immediately lit in his mind as he put the pieces together and his eyes widen in absolute horror. He had forgotten your anniversary.

“Oh my god, I’m so fucking stupid!” he exclaims, the tone of disbelief in his voice increasing as he realizes his mistake.

“Y/N!” he cries out to you as he runs around the house, searching in all the rooms to see if you were there. He almost forgets the phone that laid in his back pocket until he takes it out, hoping to call you in hopes that you would respond. His phone lights up only to show how indecently late he was, 5:43 a.m, and the amount of missed calls and texts from you, the disappointment and dejection he sensed from you increasing as he read each text you sent to him. His jaw dropping incredulously as he shuts his eyes and takes a deep exhale.

“Fuck, what have I done?” he huffs out, his voice small and full of somber. The fact that he had forgotten a day as important as this was already encompassing his mind but more so, he couldn’t find you and it deeply startled him, he didn’t know where you were and where you could be at this hour. He walks back into the living room where he assumes you had been waiting and his focus shifts to the kitchen where he notices a small notepad and pen along with a torn piece of paper that seemed to have something inscribed on it. He squints as he walks towards the kitchen. He took the paper in his hands as he immediately recognizes your handwriting and his breath hitches as he reads your name. His feet stay rooted to the wooden tile of the kitchen as he freezes there with the paper in his hands. Dumbfounded was an understatement to whatever Jungkook had felt at that moment in time. A tear had involuntarily slid down his cheek. Was this it? Was this the end? Were you going to leave him and never come back? These were only a few out of the heap of questions that were running through his head. All he knew was that he needed to find you. And he needed to fix the mess he had just made.

Similar to you he had bolted out of the house and drove off, unaware of where you actually were but he figured if he had searched for long enough, he would be able to find you.

You had slept deep into the day, finally getting up only because you started to notice the consistent vibrations that came from your bedside table. Naturally, you figured it was Jungkook, you didn’t tell anyone else of your whereabouts since it was so sporadic and you certainly didn’t feel like conversing or informing anyone of your situation. Out of curiosity and the annoying blare of your phone, you decide to see who it is anyway. Much to your surprise, your best friend Seulgi’s beaming smile flashed on your phone screen as you pick up.

“Seulgi, hi,” your voice manages to croak out as you adjust to the sunlight peeking out of your window.

“Y/N, where the hell are you?” she immediately asks, you can basically hear the frown lines etched into her forehead.

You groan into the mic of your phone as you speak back, “Seulgi, I can explain-”

“Jungkook’s been looking for you all night and asking everyone where you are,” she cuts you off.

“Seulgi,” you exhale, trying to suppress your anger, “he forgot our anniversary.”

“Oh my god.” she gasps, “you’re joking.”

“Did he not tell anyone?!” you shriek into the phone.

“No! He just said you left and he was looking for you and he was really scared and he even sounded like he was on the verge of tears and once I said I didn’t know where you were he just hung up!” she rambles on and on.

“Okay, yeah, he forgot and I got mad and I left,” you reveal, voice barely over a whisper.

“Y/N, I don’t blame you,” she reassures you, voice softening, “but, I think you should confront him about this.”

“Yeah, I know. I just needed some time to cool off and think.”

“Well, do you plan on breaking up with him?” she speaks timidly.

“I- I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to. I want to hear what he has to say.” you stutter, your mind in a complete frenzy.

“Hasn’t he been paying less attention to you these last couple of months?” she asks, “I rarely see you two go out anymore.”

“Yeah cuz we really don’t,” you confirm. “He’s been so focused on his career which I understand but, sometimes it just feels like he doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that he has a girlfriend.”

“Then why haven’t you told him that.”

“I don’t want to seem like the type of girlfriend to hold him back from doing what he loves. He’s invested so much time into his career.”

“Y/N, obviously not telling him how you feel has resulted in this mess. And okay, before you attack me, if he doesn’t have the decency to spend time with his girlfriend every once in a while then he doesn’t deserve your time and energy in the first place,” she advises you.

“I know that Seulgi, that’s all I’ve been thinking about all night.”

“Then talk to him Y/N,” she softly mutters, “for the sake of your relationship with him.”

You hum in agreement but as you’re about to hang up she interjects, “Okay, but just remember, I’ll support whatever decision you make next. I know you’re wise enough to know what you deserve and what’s best for the two of you. Always here for you Y/N.”

“I don’t know where I’d be without you Seulgi. I’ll update you. I’ll head out now.” you smile into the phone.

“You got this Y/N!” she cheers as you hang up.

You had clear intentions on your mind but you couldn’t help but feel anxious and uncertain about what was to happen between you and Jungkook.

jungkook, i’m in sunset central hotel. if you want to talk, come here as soon as you can. Thanks.

Jungkook’s eyes widen to the size of saucers as soon as he saw your name flash onto his screen. He redirects his GPS to the hotel you were at, a 45-minute drive. He didn’t care, he just needed to find you.

You waited at the foot of your bed, feeling extremely uneasy about the whole confrontation. Your foot was constantly tapping on the wooden floors, as you played with your hands and glance back at your phone to check the time.

Jungkook finally reaches his destination as he surges through the front doors of the hotel, asking the front desk if you were still staying over. The front desk had called you and informed you that someone had come to see you and if it was okay for them to come over. You hesitantly obliged, cowering every time you heard Jungkook answering whatever questions he was required to answer.

It never really registered through Jungkook’s mind that he was supposed to talk to you. He just planned on spilling his heart out and hoping it would be enough for your forgiveness and just being able to hold you in his arms again.

He takes his time getting to your room. His movements are lethargic and hesitant, taking the time to gather his thoughts. He reaches the floor your room is on as he steps out of the elevator and scans the area to find where your room would be. He slowly walks as he sees your room number, he knocks softly at the door, staring at his shoes.

Your head snaps to the sound of his knocks, you take a deep breath as you stand up and slowly creak open the door. You don’t even bother to try to share any eye contact as you widen the door and motion him to come in.

“Y/N,” he begins, eyes still focused on the floor, “I’m,” he exhales, “I’m so sorry.” He slowly tilts his head up, analyzing your body language. Your hands were clasped in front of you as your eyes shifted back and forth to everything but Jungkook. You could feel his stare burning into you but dismissed it.

“Is that-,” you mutter, “is that all you came here to say to me?

“No!” he interrupts, causing you to flinch. His face softens at your reaction, “I- I fell asleep while working on a song and lost track of time.”

Your jaw clenches at his statement as you take a moment to let what he had told you sink in, “And that makes it all okay?”

“No, of course, it doesn’t-”

“Jungkook, we were supposed to spend this time together with each other. You’re on an actual break for once and you’d still rather dedicate all your time to it instead of spending time with me. All your other members have been going on trips, seeing family, hanging out with friends,” you huff out, glaring at him as he looks at his shoes, “do I not matter to you anymore?”

Your last statement almost made him meltdown right there on the spot. The fact that he had made you believe that he didn’t care about you at all was already bad enough as it is.

He takes a step towards you and looks you straight in the eye, “No, Y/N,” he sighs in exasperation, trying to piece together what he was going to say, “we’ve just been getting so much publicity and gaining so much popularity and fame, I feel like they expect so much from us. And from me. I’m the Golden Maknae, I have to be good at everything and be able to do anything, but in reality, nothing’s working out and I’ve just been stressed as hell and wanting to see you.”

“I’ve never left Jungkook until yesterday, I’ve always been there waiting,” you reveal slowly, “and I really always want to be here for you. Ever since the tour, you stopped contacting me and I just thought you were busy but in the back of my mind, I started thinking that you just didn’t care anymore.”

“But I do, I always did.” he says, taking a step towards you.

“You haven’t proven otherwise, and I don’t want to reach this breaking point just so we can be happy and go through this all over again.” your voice cracks.

“I know, I don’t want that either, but, if this was bothering you for so long, why couldn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Do I really have to remind my own boyfriend to spend time with me?” you scoff as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean that, I mean we’ve never had any problems in our relationship up until now, and now that I’m thinking about it, you could’ve told me off and broke up with me a long time ago, but you never told me when you had any problems with me. Yes, I know the things I did were stupid as fuck but Y/N, being in a relationship while balancing my career is still new to me. I’m absolutely clueless and stupid and I need you to guide me so I can be there for you.”

“I-,” you sighed heavily, “I didn’t want to intrude. You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

“Hey, I’m always willing to give up time for you.” his responds as his eyes soften, “I know it sure as hell may not seem like it, but you shouldn’t prioritize my needs or whatever you think my needs are over yours. Now I’ve just been taking advantage of your leniency. How did I not notice? Fuck, I’m such a dumbass.”

You honestly didn’t know how to respond to that, you knew what you were doing was selfless and you were extremely patient about it all, “I just figured that was the last thing you wanted you know, another thing to worry about on top of your career.”

“I thought about that at first too,” he agreed, biting his lip, “I realized later on that it really shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. I care about you too much to let that happen and the more I got to know you, I realized that, well, you were worth it.”

You could feel his intense glare without even sparing him a glance, “Am I still worth it to you?”

You feel his hand envelop your own as steps towards you once again, “You always will be.”

“You’re making it really hard for me to keep being mad at you,” you huff, tightening your grip around his hand.

He noticed the fact that you were still avoiding eye contact and you remained distant. He tugs on your hand and pulls you close to him, breaking your personal barrier. He pulls you into a warm hug, something you both had craved for so long. The longing and acceptance for one another was mutual, but where were you two supposed to do from there on out?

He loosens his hold on you and pulls away slightly, “Are we okay?”

For the first time that day your eyes met his as you replied, “Yeah, we’re okay.”

Only time would tell.

MASTERLIST

634 notes · View notes

strvwberryblcnde · 4 years

Note

👫 lana & dom

send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons i have about our muses’ relationship.

lana buys lots of things on random whims n i feel like smthn she wld have bought the summer her n dom started properly seeing each other is a polaroid camera. probably one of those fujifilm mini ones in pink w stickers on of holographic mermaids n butterflies. n all her friends wld be subject to hving their photos taken on this at 447294734 parties but fr the most part like 50% of the film wld be spent on dom esp considering how often they’d see each other. i cn imagine her being annoying abt it e.g. bursting in unannounced when he ws showering n flinging the curtain bk n shrieking in delight as she tkes a pic of him in there. penis NOT in shot (lana ws very disappointed when she realised altho inevitably dom ws relieved). it ws probably rly blurry too from her springing out of nowhere n running away after she’d dazed him w the flash bt lana wld never dream of throwing it away she’s probably like ugh cole sprouse WISHES he ws me tht stupid i’m weird i’m a weirdo bitch i’m taking his photographer crown n i’m loving it..... another time if she ws wearing his tshirt or smthn jst to laze around in she wld have tried to convince dom to wear her cropped bowie t-shirt she usually lounges in she’d b like OUTFIT SWAP!!!! like it ws a reality show segment. she’d do his hair w her strawberry clips n everything n wna take a polaroid of tht as well. a majority of these polaroids wld b taken w her sat on top of him in bed peeping thru the viewfinder n grinning sickeningly wide after. she’s bad at organisation bt she wld keep very close track of these polaroids n treasure them a lot bc they’d document a summer where she was rly rly happy. probably took them with her to la too she jst has them hidden somewhere.... idk if she’d ever b able to bring herself to throw them away to b honest

i jst had this vision of lana n dom taking franklin to the park n i already told u abt how she’d tell franklin tht she gives the flowers all their own names n say he shld come up w his own names fr them too bc it’s more fun tht way bt. i cn imagine if they saw two bees trying to pollinate the same flower n like buzzing close to each other if franklin pointed it out lana wld gasp n be like OMG they’re in love. they’re married bees. u can tell frm how bright their stripes r they’re extra yellow n glowing like the sun tht’s what happens. tht means they’re in love franklin. n idk if franklin wld say this or not bt if he asked what loves like lana wld b like hmMMM well. love’s kind of like being first in the queue fr the best rollercoaster. or licking the sugar off ur fingers when they’re all sticky frm candy floss. going to the zoo n getting to see all ur favourite animals on a day tht’s sunny but not TOO hot. enough to give ur nose freckles bt not burn ur shoulders. make u feel toasty like ur inside a cocoon. n love’s like........ she’d pause here. she’s crouched dwn on his lvl as she says this mayb dom hs walked off to get them ice creams n she briefly lks at him in the distance as he’s paying before lking bk at franklin. scrunching her nose playfully as she tries to stall. when she hesitantly continues she’s like. n love’s like getting home after tht perfect day at the zoo n finally getting into bed w fresh sheets when ur sleepy n ur eyes r all droopy n heavy. the pillows r fluffy n it’s safe n warm n all of the gd in the world at once. i think love’s like tht. it’s jst.... nice n stuff. n she’d jst be like :) afterwards realising she’d rambled on n change the subject like hey lk at that BUTTERFLY franklin............. bt i jst think this is. particularly heartwarming to me bc not only wld she have been basing tht on hw she feels abt dom bt. in the past love ws always a thing w barbs tht hurt her whenever she tried to hold it n.... he jst rly transformed her idea of being loved by someone into smthn safe n reliable n consistent......... smthn she cld actually make a home out of instead of constantly hving an eye on the door in case they leave / she needs an escape route..... a relationship isn’t a scary concept w him

lana n dom r like. opposites when it comes to social media esp instagram...... dom jst nt even knowing hw to use it n lana posting so regularly hving a small following fr her fashion n whtever.......... i feel like lana wld try to teach him how to use it bt it wld consist of a lot of her being like no that’s--.... dom that’s--.... that’s not ri--.... n jst throwing her head bk n cackling so much she wld b rly endeared by him being clueless abt it she’d be like ommmmmmmmmg it’s ok i’ll b steve jobs n u can be my sexy assistant tht just has to strut besides me like a car dealership model whenever i go on stage to debut the nxt technological advancement. dom wld have to be like... isn’t he dead? lana wld gasp so suddenly n be like omfggggggggg tht explains why me calling this tech nerd wearing a turtleneck steve jobs lst week bombed so hard mayb he thought i ws telling him to die..... dom’s probably like... i doubt he thought tht lana..... she wld laugh at the thought of this anyway n change topics jst the worst attention span already over it. ALSO this is instagram related bt.... bev.kingston wld rly centralise her hate crusade onto dom when it became clear they were dating / things gt mre official n serious. mostly lana wld b like this is so funny n dumb bt.... i think she wld dm bev.kingston one time being like. ok all jokes aside can u cool it a little on the dom hate not to b gross bt he makes me rly happy n i dnt want him to b sad if he ever advances beyond a technological grandpa n sees all this stuff. bev.kingston wld literally screenshot this n post it on her insta like LANA AND I HAVE BEEN IN CLOSE CONTACT I HAVE DECIDED EVANS BOY IS ON TRIAL BASIS EVEN IF I HATE IN MY HEART AND KNOW FREYA IS ONE FOR HER n she’d update her page like 21/08/2020 LANA DM’D ME ABOUT EVANS BOY (or whtever the date ws) n it’d be sm. lana wld b embarrassed she’d try to get her to delete it she’d b like fk my fking life ur sick bev ur lit rally sick.....

lana treats halloween as a week long celebration she goes to sm parties tht she literally hs to have like..... 482759872 costumes planned each yr. n fr one of them. she’d b like let’s go as each other :) n she’d dress as an angel n he’d dress as a devil. she’d put on red lipstick before they went purely to “help w his costume” n it’d jst consist of her leaving lipstick prints on his cheek n neck n hip even if. his hip wsnt visible w the top he ws wearing she’d b like dom listen.... listen. it’s literally part of the vision n it’s necessary......... it doesn’t matter if ppl can’t see it we’ll both kno it’s there n it’ll elevate the look so mch...... w that attention to detail u cld even b in the running fr winning a prize...... then she wld take the lipstick off like it wldnt even be part of her outfit she only put it on to do this specifically. she’d insist on them getting a photo tgether n it’d b a bit gross it’d b a whole thing she jst.... wld b very proud to b seen w him she’d show him off a lot.... if anyone complimented her outfit she’d b like ya n have u seen dom he’s a devil we match :) n if there ws another pair tht had worn the same which i mean there probably might it isn’t a hugely original concept bt lana wld be like......... ummmmm tht guy is the most pathetic devil i hv literally ever seen..... if she ws drunk she might even b like ummm.... hw does it feel fr dom to be a sexier devil than u............... does it sting? jealous i bet....... n dom wld have to b like lana please.... im sry abt her.... u lk gd haha...... cushioning the blow. taking her hand n leading her away. n lana is jst tittering n murmurs in his ear like. he knew it ws true u cld see it in his eyes. he knew u lkd better than him.

#lana jameson | dominic evans #meme #this is so beefy too god.... dabs forehead #hallcween

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superfreakerz · 5 years

Note

Congrats on ur followers! I’m thinking of Lucy almost risking her life to save Natsu from something and he got mad at Lucy cause she risked her life and she could’ve died,, then Lucy recalled how many times he saved her life and wanted to do something for him. Sorry if u don’t understand this, I just mainly need angst lmao

Thank you for the request, I hope you like it! :D

“What Were You Thinking?”

Rated T.

Summary: After putting herself in harm’s way to save Natsu, Lucy wakes up to an earful from the irate dragon slayer.

What Were You Thinking?

Lucy clutched her arm, watching as Natsu fought a group of bandits on his own. Even though they weren’t as strong as him, their sheer numbers alone were giving him trouble. It didn’t help that the enemy was smart enough to send their troops in waves so that one group would always follow another after being defeated.

She gnawed on her lower lip. At this rate, he was going to run out of energy. There wasn’t any fire around for him to consume, and it wasn’t like she could make any herself. With his devastating flames that could lay waste to anything it came in contact with, she was surprised that the enemies kept challenging him. They should’ve been running with their tails between their legs!

Staggering to her feet, Lucy wobbled towards Natsu in an attempt to help. She had already run out of magical power, barely even able to walk. Still, she couldn’t just sit back and watch as Natsu carried the burden on his shoulders. She couldn’t stand to see him get hurt.

Just as she was approaching Natsu, she saw one of the bandits brandish a dagger. He used his magic to camouflage into the background, allowing him to sneak towards Natsu. The dragon slayer could’ve easily been able to smell him coming, but while dealing with everyone coming at him all at once, there was no way he was going to be able to dodge.

Mustering whatever energy Lucy had left, she made a mad dash towards the bandit, throwing herself in harm’s way. She jumped between him and Natsu, wincing as the blade pierced her side. A pained cry slipped past her lips as the attacker withdrew his blade, crimson blood splattering against the pavement. Falling, the girl pressed her hand over the wound to stop the bleeding. Tears pricked her eyes as it stung.

“Lucy!” Natsu’s voice called out.

With blurry vision, she looked up to find Natsu’s body engulfed in flames. He fought with more tenacity, bringing the villains to their knees. As her eyes began to droop closed, she heard Gray and Erza shouting as they ran up to them.

Then she lost consciousness.

As sunlight filtered through the cracks of her curtains, Lucy’s eyes finally fluttered open. Groaning, she pressed a hand to her throbbing head. She moved to sit up, only to hiss in pain as she had reopened her wound.

“Lay down,” a low voice demanded. She could recognize that voice anywhere.

Looking to her bedside, Lucy found Natsu sitting in one of the kitchen chairs he pulled up to the bed. Happy was dozing away in his lap.

“Natsu!” the girl exclaimed, a bright grin bubbling up to her lips. “You’re safe! Thank goodness!”

“Yeah, I’m safe alright,” Natsu replied, his brows furrowing as the corners of his lips tugged downwards into a disapproving frown. “What the hell were you thinking, Lucy?”

“Huh?”

“Why the hell did you take the hit?”

Lucy tilted her head to the side, confused. Was he really mad at her? “I did it to save you!”

“I didn’t ask you to do that!” Natsu sneered, his voice sharp enough to startle Happy awake.

Happy glanced between the two. Their brows were slanted in anger, and after having to hear Natsu complain for the past day, he knew just what they were arguing about. It was going to get ugly. Without saying a word, the exceed flew straight out the window before he could get caught in the crossfire.

Now that Happy was gone, Lucy turned her attention back to Natsu.

“I know that you didn’t ask me to, but it doesn’t change the fact that I had to do it,” Lucy said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What makes you think you had to do that?” Natsu asked, bewildered by her answer.

“Because you were too busy fighting! You wouldn’t have noticed! If I didn’t step in, he would’ve stabbed you, probably in a worse spot than he stabbed me!”

Natsu shot up from his seat, knocking the chair back. “None of that matters, Lucy!”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter!? You could have died!”

“You could have died!” Natsu shouted, loud enough to make Lucy flinch. His face was etched with fury as he continued, “What if you miscalculated your jump and he ended up stabbing one of your vital organs? Did you even calculate your jump? What if he stabbed you in the heart, Lucy? You’d be dead!”

Natsu panted, blinking back tears as he stared at the blonde in front of him. Her head hung low as she fisted the blankets.

“I just wanted to save you for once,” she mumbled, hot tears sliding down her cheeks.

“What?”

She whirled a tearful gaze onto him. “I wanted to save you, okay? Do you know how many times you’ve saved me? You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? Anytime there’s something dangerous, you’re always putting yourself in front of me! Or when someone is trying to hurt me, you fight them and get hurt instead!”

“Lucy-!”

“No, don’t! Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don’t want to see you get hurt? You’re my partner, my best friend, and so much more. You’re everything to me, Natsu, and that’s why I jumped in the way and that’s why I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I needed to!”

Natsu’s fists trembled at his sides. “I don’t want you doin’ that for me, Lucy!”

“And why the hell not?” she shot back, eyes shining with defiance.

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt again!” he shouted. His shoulders rose each time he panted. The dam that kept his tears at bay finally broke. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the tears cascading down his cheeks.

Lucy’s brows shot up. “Again? What do you mean?”

Natsu’s voice shook as he answered, “Th-That time when we were in Crocus, and Rogue tried to kill you. He did kill you.”

Her lips immediately curled into a frown. That was a day she’d never forget. “Natsu, he didn’t-!”

“I tried to catch the knife or at least jump in the way, but I… I wasn’t fast enough, Lucy. Next thing I saw was your blood. I lost you right in front of my eyes because your future-self jumped in front of the way. I never wanted to see anything like that again, but here we are… And this time it’s my fault.”

Lucy choked back a sob as she shook her head. “That’s not true, Natsu. It isn’t your fault at all.” Patting the bed, she gestured for him to take a seat beside her. Once he did, she took his hands in her own, squeezing them tightly. “Let’s recount all of the times you saved me, shall we?”

“Lucy-”

“No, come on. Let’s do it. There was that time when we first met, and you saved me from Bora. Then there was that time on Galuna Island when Sherry dropped acid over the village. There was the time with Phantom Lord. Oh, and we can’t forget all of the times on Tenrou, the battle with Tartarus, the war against Alvarez, and every other moment in between. You may not have been able to save my future-self, but you’ve saved me countless of times.”

Natsu wiped his sleeve over his eyes. “It’s not good enough. I should’ve saved you back then, too.”

“You did. By defeating Rogue, you gave me my future back. Because of you, I’ve been able to share so many memories with you, Happy, and everyone else.” She squeezed his hands, giving him a wet smile. “I will always be grateful for that, which is why I really wanted to return the favor and save you for once.”

Natsu playfully scoffed. “For once? Luce, you’re savin’ our asses all the time. Too many times to even count. Seriously, you’re strong as hell.”

Warmth crept up to the girl’s cheeks, her smile deepening. “So, are we okay now?”

He slung an arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, we’re okay. Sorry about yellin’ at you.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for reminding you of what happened back at Crocus. Though, I can’t say that I won’t jump in the way to save you again. I’ll always try to save you, and I’m sure you’ll do the same for me.”

“‘Course I will. Now, c'mon. We should probably let Happy know we didn’t kill each other.”

Lucy blinked once, then twice. “Umm, in case you’ve forgotten, I can’t exactly leave bed.”

Natsu chuckled. “Oh, right. I forgot. Ehh, he’ll come back to check on us eventually. In the meantime, you wanna play some games? I can bring them to the bed.”

“Sure. But first…” Lucy leaned forward, pressing her lips against his in a chaste kiss. Pulling away, she smiled at him. “I love you, Natsu.”

He mirrored her expression. “I love you too, Luce. Now c'mon. It’s time I finally kick your ass at this game.”

#fairy tail #nalu #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #ftfanficton #nalu fanfiction #wwyt #requests #super writes

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vegetalass · 5 years

Text

Everything Electric

Inspired by the mess that was the spoilers nsfw discord chat and the conversation abt argent ripping out one of ur eyes… It unlocked the fact that i used to like gore…. SMH

TFW lady argent rips out one of ur eyes and then u go to dr. mortum and say thenks mather for my life

FORGIVE ME if this is shit it wasnt beta read

Villain name: Ophelia

Warning: contains Fallen Hero: Retribution spoilers, and heavy blood and gore!!! RATED R BRO!

FH:R belongs to @fallenhero-rebirth

Lady Argent/gn!Reader/f!Dr. Mortum - 2371 words

Blood.

So much blood is leaking out of your mouth as the pressure on your windpipe keeps increasing.

“Argent…” you gurgle, trying to spit but ending up drooling a messy concoction of blood and spittle all over your villain suit instead.

Her claws are extended, this time longer than you’ve ever seen them, and while one hand presses into your windpipe hard enough to make you dizzy, the other is dangled in front of your nose like a toy in front of a child.

And you are not a child.

“Stop,” you plead, stuttering, even though your throat burns and eyes water in pain. But Lady Argent does not, and looking into her face lets you know that she doesn’t plan to, either. From the empty look in her eyes, you can tell that she’s lost herself in another world — one where the both of you never formed an alliance, and one where you deserve Hell and she’s the chosen one who’s going to give it to you.

Suddenly, though, as you should’ve been expecting this, she screeches something unintelligible and plunges her fingernails deep into your eye socket. Though at first you feel nothing more than an annoying pinching sensation, as the pain begins to register and become too much, you hardly notice as the pressure in your head releases in a pop so intense that the rest of your vision goes dark.

You try to scream, but end up making some kind of choked whine instead, as Argent hasn’t moved a muscle since and continues her heavy assault on your throat.

“What is it, Ophelia?” she grins, her teeth gleaming in the light of the moon, before laughing at her own stupid inside joke. “Is something wrong?”

As her fingers continue to root around inside your head, claws doing irreversible damage to your nerves, you try to use her distracted and giddy state to pull her other hand loose from around your neck. While trying to find enough space between her hands and your throat to breathe, Argent’s body shakes again in her mad state, and you are able to tear yourself away from her grasp in the hopes of collapsing on the floor and somehow getting away.

But it’s too late, as she is not so kind as to spare you, and continues holding onto the warm flesh hidden inside your eye socket. What a pitiful state you must be in, howling and moaning, as she succeeds in coming away victorious, and you are left seeing and tasting red from sudden lack of an eyeball.

Breathe, dry heave, rinse, and repeat. You don’t even register the pain when you press your dirty palms against what’s now a hole in your head and try not to hyperventilate.

You look up at her, missing eye covered, good eye blurry, and see her victory pose, smiling above you and holding the bloodied piece of you-meat like a trophy. Though instantly at your recognition, she throws the slimy meatball over her shoulder and uses her fist to slug you in the jaw.

“You didn’t even need that,” she says while laughing, before gazing into what’s left of your eyes and deciding to walk away.

Blood is still leaking from your mouth… and Argent doesn’t look back as she leaves you to sob on the concrete.

ii.

You look nothing like the weeping animal she left in the alley. And you look nothing like the weeping human she was expecting to see at your next meeting, either. Your face is not sunken in, bruised, or malformed. You’re not in an eyepatch or mask, and your face seems to look almost brand new.

A new face, almost… a new eye.

The realization hits her like a train, and she snarls, upset at the smug smile you pointedly send her way when you realize that she has it all figured out.

A replacement. The beautiful, black aperture Dr. Mortum installed in place of an eye.

And Lady Argent can see every wire, every miniscrew, and every bit of fiberglass that was used to create a weapon more fluid and powerful than any of the tech she’s seen installed in any of the Rangers.

And it makes her mad, fingers flexing and claws cutting into her palms as she makes plans to take a swipe at your face at the next chance she gets just to peel back your skin.

You smile at her, the angry thoughts like water off a duck’s back.

“So, you noticed,” you say, full of pride and a sense of smug satisfaction, “how do I look?”

Argent snarls, though she does pause to admire the lovely handiwork that was done to your face as you wait for a reply.

While your skin might look the same on the surface to any normal passerby, there’s no hiding the internal metal plating that’s been fused to your skull permanently, or the black sclera that whirs softly unlike normal white flesh. One has to wonder what kind of twisted procedure you put yourself through just to get better, because it was only an eye that she managed to take and now you’re practically a cyborg.

But saying you were completely healed would be unfair, as you haven’t fully gotten used to the implant yet. The way that things blur in high definition and in a spectrum brighter than anything you could ever image.

Chrome. Thermal. Electromagnetic. Something you can’t even name.

Like Lady Argent’s eyesight, from what you remember of possessing her, though you can’t see any wires or pipes through walls or anything. But this isn’t so bad, you think, not that you’d ever want lose an eye again. You’re just thankful her claws didn’t manage to clip into your brain.

Before the operation, the Good Doctor did require you to keep your remaining organic eye, and all the leftover tissue that was still in the damaged socket, but as expected, her technology was flawless. You find it’s often quite easy to forget you even have anything fake implanted in your head at all as the gradient technology she installed first was the easiest thing to get used to.

High tech and lightweight Medi-Polymer in place of a real cornea and iris, fitted with a sleepless microcomputer and accurate analytics, all grafted to your optic nerve in a painful surgery that had you out of commision for weeks.

Despite the lasting, striped scars that Dr. Mortum couldn’t be bothered to fix, she did let you choose the flashing colors it displays to the world, even if so far you have left the bandages on in public. It does help hide your face, though, and that’s always a bonus.

So, you’d say it was worth it, despite being forced to tell Ortega when he wouldn’t stop fretting at the sight of your head wrapped in tape and gauze that it was some unexplainable and permanent head trauma. You left the part where Lady Argent mauled you out, as it’s a secret that’s to be left between the two of you (and Dr. Mortum, of course).

It was the one thing you could be sure of, Lady Argent wanting to spare herself from the news by not getting reported by another Ranger.

Though still lost in thought, it’s easy to detect the waves on rage that now pour from Lady Argent’s mind into yours at your silence, as suddenly, she breaks your reminiscing by lunging at you. Her fingers quickly extended into sharp-pointed knives as she reaches for your face, but instead of simply waiting to be scratched, you catch her wrist in your hand easily, and twist her body away from yours to slam it against the waiting brick wall behind the two of you.

It’s like you didn’t even need to see her move.

“What?” you ask, feigning confusion at her shocked face, as she is now on her knees below you with some kind of crooked neck.

You don’t start to choke her. You don’t even mention her eyes. And even if she hates you, you can still read the recognition in her mind of the fact that you didn’t kick her down just to get revenge.

Because for once, she feels helpless and knows that you know it.

“Call me sometime, okay?” you taunt, laughing in her face the way she did at the eyeless and crying you, before leaning down to wipe her bleeding nose with your cape. She knows the gesture is not meant to be kind, and as her mind replays the swift way you were able to knock her off her feet, she is suddenly aware of how much powerful you really have gotten.

All because of an eye. The one that she took.

You straighten up, still looking down at her with your teeth bared in a smile. One eye cruel, and the other a mean, unblinking blue and orange. Both intense and focused.

iii.

You moan in pain as she peels back the bandages, blood vessels in your closed eye socket pounding against the heat of what you can only assume to be your brain overheated with the nasty fever you’ve been sporting since the incident itself. You grit your teeth as the dirty cloth is removed, now damp and warm from sweat, and the fact that you haven’t changed it in a few days. “Now, what did you do this time, Ophelia?” Dr. Mortum’s voice is neutral, though you know from your game of charades that she only starts to wonder aloud when she’s getting really curious and the probability of you actually responding is close to zero.

“Lady Argent,” you mutter, trying to be amused by Mortum’s long ‘ah’ at the confession. You’re not doing a great job at resisting the urge you have to reach up and press your knuckles into your head and relieve some of the pressure.

“I’m flattered that you chose to trust me, though it’s not recommended for any clients of mine,” Mortum continues, having wandered off after taking one good look at your ruined eye socket and deciding to search for one of her many stored medical kits, “but your assistant, I presume, is so sweet.”

You know who she’s referring to, but you’re just glad that everything worked out.

It took all of your remaining energy just to enter your puppet’s head one last time to give her a call. Begging her to come pick up your aching body and drive you away in the back of her car to replace the half of your face that Lady Argent destroyed, as this was something you couldn’t do yourself.

It took a couple days for her to find you, but she did, and it was a relief to see her, even if you were neither in your puppet or pretending. It’s funny how things work out.

All those self-stitched scars. For nothing.

“I assume we’re going with a full replacement?” she voices, having returned and seated herself at your side to begin the cleaning, soaking and opening process.

You cannot help the eager nod that escapes you, even though the saline solution Dr. Mortum starts applying to your face has you leaking red tears instantly.

“It will take a few weeks, and then more to recover…” she hesitates, exhaling, and you can tell she’s scanning you for any signs of danger, “but you can stay here.”

You know what she’s thinking, that even in your weak state you could be a danger to her practice. But from the way you look in the image of you in her head, you can tell there’s not much danger to even be had. You look so frail, sick, and destroyed. Not the mention, from the way she glances up and down your form, it’s almost as if you weren’t someone she was expecting to be the Ophelia.

But you are never what people expect.

And with that, she decides that due to your sickly state, you are not a liability. You are not about to jump up and destroy her or her lab. If you tried, you know it would be quite easy to stun you into submission and take out your remaining eye as punishment, too. She doesn’t have to think it to know it.

Because she pulled a gun on you once before.

But her thoughts have changed directions, almost easily, naturally, and you can tell now that what she’s thinking is kind. Suddenly, her thoughts of you are as an ally. No, a friend, and for all intents and purposes, you are dying of a high fever she know that in the hands of anyone else, could leave you as a pitiful, sightless corpse.

But Dr. Mortum isn’t cruel. She never has been, and you are glad when she responds to you in kind at the thought of the mutual understanding and benefits you could share if she does decide to help you. You do your best to push the thought her way instead of speaking.

She smiles finally, then, at least you hope that’s what she’s doing, and runs her cool knuckles across your bloody and sweat-stained forehead in a form of soothing reassurance that makes you feel like a child.

And you are not a child.

Though, you are glad that you’ve always been quite generous to her, and that it’s easy to look human in your sticky, skin tight pajamas.

Not there’s much you could really say if (or rather, when) she were to find out the truth, because existing can’t get much worse than this.

And if you were that someone else, anyone else, you’d love to respond to her contact. Her sweetness. Her power.

But you’re not, and it’s always been your puppet who she’s preferred, anyways.

But right now, you let yourself be sick. You let her touch you and welcome you into her waiting arms. Because she might not welcome you again.

“You’re lucky I’m a doctor, Mon Cherie,” she whispers finally, voice kind, body warm. And as you sink yourself into her and try to smile with closed eyes, you hope that it doesn’t look like an ugly, toothy grimace.

Because you know you are really, very lucky.

#fallen hero rebirth #fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero #fallen hero: retribution #fallen hero spoilers #Im groggy i hope this is okay #sorry for the weird roman numerals i needed them for mobile readers

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