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krizaland · 3 years

Note

Yandere Zim X Male Reader? There isn't many out there, and I sort of had a song in mind if you would like to listen: Rory by Foxing.

You got it, friend!

Be warned: There are themes of unrequited love, wasps and a graphic depiction of wasp stings ahead!

Here's the song that was used btw

From the moment he met you, Zim found himself captivated by you.

From your gentle eyes to your kind soul, Zim found you utterly fascinating.

You were nothing like any of the other humans! You weren’t ugly, and you didn’t even stink!

You may have been friends with Dib but that didn’t stop you from sticking up for him whenever Dib tried to expose him!

At first, Zim decided to use you as a good source of information as well as a way to keep up appearances without drawing too much attention to himself.

However, the more time he spent with you, Zim started to feel…strange to say the least.

His PAK would spark around you and his squeedilyspooch felt like it was tied up in knots!

“Computer! What are these HORRIBLE feelings inside of me?! What has that Y/N-human done to Zim?!” Zim demanded as he pointed to the ceiling.

“WELL….UM…”

“C’mon spit it out already!”

“WELL IT SEEMS THAT YOU HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE…”

Zim’s jaw hit the ground.

“WHAT?! ME?! IN LOVE?! WITH A HUMAN?! IMPOSSIBLE! Preform a full body bioscan!”

Zim’s computer sighed as a few mechanical tentacles wrapped around Zim.

“SCANNING…SCANNING….”

After a few minutes, the tentacles retracted,

“BIOSCAN COMPLETE. NO ILLNESSES DETECTED.”

“N-No! No! This can’t be! No invader can even experience love! Especially not for the enemy! What am I going to do?! ARGH! Computer! Create an antidote for my love illness!” Zim commanded as he tugged on his antennas.

“UM THERE REALLY ISN’T A CURE…”

“LIES!! Surely there has to be some way to get rid of these HORRIBLE FEELINGS!” Zim wailed dramatically.

“WELL…THERE IS ONE WAY TO GET RID OF THEM..”

“What are you waiting for! Tell me! Tell me the solution!!” Zim demanded as his voice quivered a bit.

“THE ONLY WAY YO GET RID OF YOUR FEELINGS IS TO ASK Y/N OUT..” The computer lied

“WHAT?! YOU WANT ZIM TO DATE THE ENEMY?! ARE YOU INSANE?!”

“Nyeh!”

Zim’s tirade was interrupted by Minimoose.

“Stay out of this, Minimoose! This doesn’t concern you!”

“Nyeh!”

“Aww! It’s sweet that you care about your master but don’t worry, Zim will be fine!”

“Nyeh!”

“Eh?! Ask Y/N out on a date to keep up appearances?! Never! didn’t I already make it clear that was a bad idea?! There’s no way I’d possibly show that kind of weakness to the enemy. But what if…”

Zim hummed for a moment as he stroked his chin.

“I’ve got it! I’ll ask Y/N out on a date to keep up appearances! Yes…I’ll simply use these feelings as a way to appear more normal so I can continue my mission!”

Minimoose was a bit annoyed but happily encouraged his master

“Nyeh!”

“I think you’re cool too, Minimoose! Now then, how to woo Y/N…Maybe one of those love note thingys.” Zim muttered to himself as he begin typing away at his keyboard.

After a few minutes of typing, Zim cracked a wicked smile.

“Excellent! With this loove note there’s no way Y/N could possibly resist my proposal!”

Zim burst into maniacal laughter as he printed the note.

“Now all thats left to do is deliver it!”

“OOOH!! OHHH!!! CAN I BRING THE NOTE TO RACECAR?!!” GIR squealed as he reached for the note.

“No GIR! I’m not going to risk this note getting damaged because of you!” Zim snapped as he snatched away the note.

GIR did like that answer.

He let out a loud shriek and threw himself to the ground.

He begun to kick and cry as loud as his voice chip would let him.

“ENOUGH! You may deliver the note to Y/N!” Zim grumbled as he held out the note.

“YAY!!!!!!!”

And with that, GIR grabbed the note with his mouth and flew off with it.

“Ugh, I better make sure GIR doesn’t ruin all of my hard work.” Zim huffed as he threw on his disguise and followed after GIR.

It wasn’t long before GIR managed to find you.

You were sitting on a bench in the park next to Dib, who seemed nervous about something.

“Dib? Are you ok? You’re acting kinda…twitchy”

“Twitchy? I’m not twitchy! Heh! It’s just um…the air! Yeah the air is really cold today!” Dib lied as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Dib it’s almost June. It’s like 88 degrees out here. What’s really going on?” You pressed as you gave Dib a sympathetic look.

Dib looked down at his feet and took in a deep breath.

“Ok, I’ll tell you but you have to promise you won’t be grossed out by me.”

“Dib, you’re my best friend! Not even hunting the most disgusting cryptid can make me grossed out by you!” You reassured with a chuckle.

Dib took in another deep breath as he turned to face you

“Y/N, I know we’ve been friends for like a really long time now and….well….”

“Well what?”

Dib swallowed thickly as he tugged at his shirt collar

“I think I might want to be more than friends!”

Dib’s words flew out a mile a minute before he clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Wait?! Are you serious?!” Your eyes lit up a bit.

“Gah! I knew this was a bad idea! Just forget I said anything!” Dib whimpered as he buried his face in his hands.

“No no! I’m actually really happy you told me that, Dib! Because…I want to be more than friends too!” You reassured as you put a hand on his shoulder.

Dib looked up at you and blinked in shock.

“Wait? Really?”

“Yes really! I’ve actually been wanting to ask you out for a while but I wasn’t sure if you felt the same.” You admitted sheepishly as you rubbed the back of your head.

“What?! You had feelings for me this whole time?! And you didn’t even- You know what? Who cares? All that matters is that we both feel the same about each other! Right?” Dib still seemed a bit skeptical.

“Exactly! That’s the spirit!” You cheered as you threw your arms in the air, smacking poor GIR out of the sky.

THUMP!

SPLOOSH!

GIR fell face first into a puddle, soaking Zim’s love note.

However it wouldn’t have mattered whether or not the love note was in tact. For Zim had witness the entire exchange between you and Dib and was devastated.

He let out a pained chuckle as he grabbed the soggy note from GIR’s mouth.

Zim was about to confront Dib when-

BONK!

THUMP!

Zim had walked right into s tree, causing a wasp nest to fall right on his head.

Zim let out a blood curdling scream as the wasps begun to attack him from all directions!

Soon he began to run amok, with more wasps trailing behind him!

It wasn’t long before Zim managed to make it back to his base.

Two robotic arms came down from the ceiling,

POP!

They pulled the wasp nest off of Zim’s head and chucked it out into the front yard.

Zim let out a pained groan as his grotesquely swollen face throbbed with wasp venom and glowing green pus.

The robotic arms carefully peeled off Zim’s disguise and another arm carried him down to his lab.

After a refreshing chemical shower, Zim’s face had returned to normal!

However, while his face had healed, his feelings were still in shambles.

He picked up the note and went back up to the kitchen.

Zim sunk to his knees as he shakily held the soggy note in his hands.

“I wrote you a letter, asked my robot to send it but it took to the sea before you could’ve read it…”

Zim’s grip tightened on the note as a few tears trickled down his cheeks.

“Retreated to snow capped waters of the unknown. Extracted my soul straight from my body! but glowing and red…And I swear that sweat would envelop your arms if you broke down and held it!”

“I swear I’m a good man-“ -Zim took in a heavy breath- “-I swear I’m a good man…”

Zim sniffled a bit,

“So why don’t you love me back?”

He looked down at the note in his hands.

“So why don’t you love me back?”

Zim let out a deep growl as he chucked the soggy note into the window.

“Instead of twisting up words you just say there in silence! In wind burnt homes sighing rays from a sunset!”

Zim rose to his feet and stormed towards the window.

As he peeled the soggy note off the window, he couldn’t help but notice that the wasp nest was still in the front yard.

“And all I could hear was the sound of the wasp nest, my head made a home for the hum of the insects!”

Zim took another glance down at the soggy note he had peeled off the window.

“But my hands shake and shudder at the mention of half written reasons we’ll only be friends!”

Zim’s fist curled around the note and punched the window.

“I swear I’m a good man…. I swear I’m a good man…”

Zim squeezed his eyes shut and let out a sob

“So why don’t you love me back?”

His hand slid down the window.

“So why don’t you love me back?!”

Zim threw the soggy note to the ground and stomped on it

“So why don’t you love me back?!”

He threw his head to the ceiling and shrieked

“So why don’t you love me back?!”

He clutched the sides of his head and wailed his plea once again,

“So why don’t you love me back?!”

Zim melted back down to his knees.

“So why don’t you love me back….”

A louder sob racked his body as Zim felt his world crash down around him.

How humiliating.

He was Irk’s finest invader! How could he be so wounded by one pitiful human?!

No, pitiful wasn’t the right word to describe you. In truth, Zim felt that handsome was a better fit.

Despite how devastated he was, Zim still couldn’t stop wanting you.

The need for your love sparked a fire deep within him.

The fire burned violently throughout Zim’s body! Pulling him out of his depression and making him more confident than ever!

Zim wanted you for some much more than appearances!

He wanted you to be his and his alone!

By taking you away from him, Dib had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Zim let out a thunderous maniacal laugh as he raised his hands to the ceiling!

He put his disguise back on, grabbed a blaster, and hopped into his Voot.

“Prepare yourself, foolish Dib-monkey! I am coming to reclaim what’s rightfully mine! You shall rue the day you took Y/N away from Zim!”

#invader zim #invader zim x male!reader #invader zim x reader #dib x reader

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godofsexdrugsandrocknroll · 3 years

Text

Soul: Power Trip

Yang: *Stretches arms above head, draws classmates attention* So...anybody know why tall, blonde and goofy looks so chill up there?

Pyrrha: *Crosses arms* I'm...uncertain. Jaune was quite instrumental in our takedown of the Grimm at initiation and I have no doubt he'll impress us here as well, but...well perhaps--

Weiss: *Scoffs* Well if he 'flirts' *sarcastic airquotes* as well as he does fight then at least we won't have to wait long for that Winchester oaf to end this.

Pyrrha: *Glares but says nothing*

Ruby: I-I don't really wanna agree with Weiss on this one, but she might be right. Jaune doesn't even carry a weapon.

*Weiss throws up her hands and scowls*

Pyrrha: *Trying to defend Jaune* Even still, Jaune showed a good grasp of group tactics. *Uncertain* Maybe he fights differently than us?

Yang: *Immediately bored* Oh yay. So he's gonna talk his way to a win.

Blake: *Eyes on the stage as Glynda explains* There is more than one way to win a battle, Yang. And to be fair, he doesn't look like he's even remotely worried. *Eyes narrow* He almost looks bored. *To Nora and Ren* Did you two see how he fought in initiation?

Nora: *Grins* Nope! Way too busy crushing Grimm into paste and flyin' around!

Weiss: *Looking really grouchy* Lovely. How interesting--

Ren: *Quietly* He's fast.

Weiss: *Snaps at him* What?

Ren: Jaune. He was fast. Not as fast as Ruby but when the Deathstalker tried to get him with its stinger, Jaune only saw it about two seconds before it would have killed him and he dodged it and directed Pyrrha towards the stinger. *Looks back at the stage* The reflexes, reaction time and speed to pull that off is a bit unnerving, even for a future Huntsman, but it also suggests Jaune knows how to fight.

*The two teams are now quiet, even Weiss who is now actually looking at Jaune*

Cardin: *Sneers* Don't worry too much, Jauney boy. I can't make this painless but it'll definitely be quick. *RDL laughs nearby*

Jaune: *Says nothing, just stands there in his jeans and his bunny hoodie with a long sleeved orange shirt beneath it and white surgical gloves covering his hands, a white surgical mask over his face*

Glynda: --with that said, are there any questions from our combatants?

Jaune: *When Cardin remains silent* Is this an assessment of our skill or a display?

Glynda: *A bit taken aback at the blunt tone* Excuse me?

Jaune: *Sighs tiredly, puts dull blue eyes on Glynda* This fight.

Glynda: *Perturbed* Both, Mr. Arc. But we do not expect to see the full scope of your capabilities as a Huntsman in just one fight, if that's what you're asking.

Jaune: *Just looks back at Cardin, removes his right glove and holds it it in his other hand*

Glynda: If that is all *steps back* then begin!

Cardin: *Shoots forward* Don't worry, bunny boy, I'm sure next fight you'll get to show off all that 'skill' of yours!

*Despite being only a foot away and about to bring his mace down, Cardin isn't fast enough*

Jaune: *Inside only a second or two, Jaune crouches down and moves forward in the same instant and places two fingers on Cardin's neck*

Cardin: The fuck was tha--GGGKKKKKKKKKK!!!!! *Trails off into a scream as his flesh seems to suddenly grow large goosebumps, which rapidly become large bubbles*

*Shocked screams from the audience*

Cardin: *Explodes into a massive shower of gore, his upper half missing and leaving only his legs*

Glynda: *So shocked that she just stares in horror as the students start panicking*

Random Student: Oh gods, h-he killed him!

Random Student #2: Somebody call the headmaster, no the police!

Jaune: *Deeply irritated* Calm down. *People gape and Jaune sighs, leans forward and touches Cardin's blood*

*Instead of frantic screams of terror, disgust and anger there is now dead silence as Cardin brutally reforms and gasps, pales and falls on his ass, crabwalking backwards and beginning to hyperventilate while staring at Jaune*

Jaune: *Melancholy* Still so disgusting. *Puts on glove, to Glynda* That's my win. *Walks off*

Cardin: *Scampers closer to Glynda who's staring at her scroll and then at Cardin, Cardin is suddenly almost polite* T-the hell was that, Arc?

Jaune: *Shoulders slumped* My semblance. It's matter manipulation. Anything I touch I can disassemble or reassemble into anything I want. If I want to destroy, I destroy. If I want to create, I create. If I want to reshape matter into something else, the sky's the limit. *Stops before a pale Pyrrha, a solemn looking Ren with widened eyes and a fidgeting, nervous Nora* Or if I want to revive the dead, I revive the dead. *Shrugs* Family was attacked when I was young. I was hurt. Mother unlocked my aura just in time for me to see some White Fang asshole pulp her skull with his mace. When you're 6 years old and just watched your mother die, the only thing your soul wants is to save her.

*Blake shifts uneasily, looking away while Yang has an arm around a stunned, terrified Ruby's shoulders with a complicated look on her face and Weiss can't stop staring at the boy she dismissed, a hand over her mouth since she was close to vomiting*

Jaune: *Sighs again* Do whatever you want with that information. It makes no difference to me. I'm used to Overhaul.

Weiss: *Shakily* O-Overhaul?

Jaune: *Slouches into a seat* My semblance. It's called Overhaul.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One final post for the day. I like the idea of different semblances and the impact they would have on a character. For those unaware, this is a quirk from My Hero Academia called Overhaul, used by a character of the same name.

I'm well aware it doesn't really work as a semblance since semblances don't really work the same way as quirks; but this is just for fun.

And in this case, I think if Jaune had Overhaul as his semblance, his behavior makes sense. This would be a Jaune who's seen his mother die at a young age, revived her and then since his semblance is tied to his soul and his emotions can effect that (Yang getting angry and activating Burn), he's probably accidentally killed a lot of people, possibly including his family (hence the gloves). So he's just kind of depressed, a bit done with everything, has never really faced any challenges and is a little bit adverse to the messes he makes (I can't imagine getting blood in your mouth being a pleasant experience).

He's no Overhaul, but he's not a fan of the germs. He's also flippant, cold and aloof not to mention big with the reflexes/RT/speed and would be hard to get along with, I think, even if he's the same lovable goof he is in canon beneath layers of trauma.

I could picture either either Nora or Ruby really being the one to help Jaune the most, although I think Yang could be a good enough of a friend after a time to do the same.

#rwby #jaune arc #team jnpr #team rwby #cardin winchester #glynda goodwitch #my hero academia #mha #overhaul #kai chisaki #au #this is what happens when you let a drunk type #what's crack-a-lackin'#shitpost

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seasonsofeverlark · 3 years

Text

$1 Smooches

Author: @alliswell21

Prompt: Everlark and a Kissing Booth [submitted by @mandelion82]

Rating: G

Author’s Note: Modern AU. ~1600 words _____________

“That game was rigged!” Katniss seethed.

“Lower your voice, Brainless! Do you want the carnies to curse you? I don’t, I’m standing right next to you!” Johanna hissed, slapping a hand over Katniss’ mouth.

“I’m sure carnival workers consider that a derogatory term,” Prim sighed, done with her companions silliness.

“Anything is offensive nowadays,” said Johanna, winded, after Katniss shoved her away.

Katniss scowled, giving another shove for good measure, “Cut it out, Johanna!”

Prim rolled her eyes. “You are aware, this is a charity event benefiting the hospital I work for, right? all booths are operated by volunteering hospital employees, which means the ring-the-bottle game wasn’t rigged,” Prim stared pointedly at her sister, “and nobody is getting cursed!” She glared at Johanna next, “Behave!”

There was nothing Katniss hated more than disappointing her baby sister. “I’m sorry, Prim, we’ll be better,” Katniss glared at her friend, “Right Jo?”

“Fine! But I demand a greasy, deep fried treat, and a big sugary drink to go with it!”

“Yay!” Primrose clapped, hooking her slender arms through her sister and friend’s elbows, “Lets have some fun!”

The trio came to a food booth, Prim piped in, “I’ll ordered us a funnel cake and two giant lemonades, you guys go find another game, I don’t mind waiting in line,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…and then we can go to the booth my department set up. My favorite nurse in the whole world is manning it!”

Katniss and Johanna walked past the inflatables and the bouncy castle, trying not to bump into families with rambunctious children, and then, they saw a ridiculously loud-excuse-of-an-eyesore-shack painted in pepto pink, decked to the gills with giant red and pink hearts sprouting from every corner of the stand, and a large, white sign crowning the top, announcing: “$1 Smooches”, spelled in blinking light bulbs, with a neon yellow arrow pointing downwards.

“A kissing booth?” Johanna arched her eyebrows, curiously.

The queue to the booth was very long and to Katniss’ surprise, composed mostly by female patrons.

“What. Is. that?!” Gasped Johanna, pointing to the booth while fanning herself with her free hand. Without further comment, Jo grabbed Katniss’ hand and marched straight for the kissing booth line.

“What—?”

“Come on Brainless, I have two singles in my wallet and a tube of chapstick ready for the hunk selling kisses!”

Katniss was momentarily confused, until she saw a muscular man with a boyish, lopsided smile, taking a crisp dollar bill from a very enthusiastic woman; a second later, the man puckered up his pink lips, and leaned forward, just outside the big window of the booth, forearms flexing deliciously against the sleeves of his polo shirt; a wayward curl of his ashy blonde hair fell over his forehead in just the right way.

“Oh!” Katniss gulped, falling into step with her best friend.

The line advanced impressively fast, for how long it was. In a matter of minutes, which was truly appreciated, since nobody particularly enjoyed being sandwiched between the baking sun and the suffocating blacktop of the lot. The girls were second to next line, but Johanna started sneezing uncontrollably, thanks to the cigarette smoke of a passerby.

“Ugh! This is a hospital’s parking lot! A no smoke zone!” Jo rasped angrily, “Here!” She shoved a balled up wad of cash into Katniss’ hands, and before her friend could stop her, she went after the smoking a-hole, to rip him a new one.

Katniss found herself at the front of line very suddenly, and the man beckoned her forward, lopsided grin, so inviting, she stepped up without consciously deciding to.

The man studied her quizzically for a moment, “Hello, there,” he greeted, “Are you an employee at Panem General, or are you a guest? You look familiar,” he said.

“Guest,” Katniss answered, a little too fast. She stepped backwards, rethinking her situation, the woman directly behind her, gave her a weak push forward, to keep her from stepping on her toes.

The man looked at the ball of cash in Katniss’ hands and smiled brightly. “Would you like to make a donation to Panem General’s pediatric wing? Every dollar counts,” he said softly.

Katniss nodded bashfully, not really understanding his words, too preoccupied with how velvety soft the man’s voice was. She handed him the whole wad, which apparently was $5 in crinkled $1 bills.

The guy took only one, and placed the rest of the money on the counter, next to Katniss’ hand, before leaning forward to brush his lips against Katniss’.

There was no telling how long the kiss lasted, but judging by the aggravated buzzing of complaints coming from behind Katniss, it had been long enough to warrant an annoyed calling out.

“Hey! Stop holding up the smooches!”

Katniss opened her eyes, shifting down to the ball of her feet. She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes and stretched on the tip of her toes during her kiss. She stared at the guy, who looked slightly dazed as he admired her back; his smile seemed even more crooked than before.

“Oh my gosh, you found our booth!” Prim cried out, startling Katniss. “Oh, and you met nurse Mellark!”

“What?!” The crowd behind Katniss grew restless and annoyed by the second. “I haven’t met any nurses—“

Katniss peered back at the booth suspiciously, expecting to see this nurse her sister spoke so much about, but the only person currently in the booth was the kissable blonde man, watching his sister with arched brows and surprise in his deep blue eyes.

“Hi, Peeta!” Prim waved, the guy in the booth waved back, but the next person in line stood in front of him, blocking his view.

“Wait…” Katniss pulled Prim further out, before the mob of angry women throttled them, “That man is nurse Mellark?” She asked, pointing back as discreetly as she could; the man was looking at them with badly veiled concern, while still trying to do his job, as host of the smooching booth. “You mean to tell me, the handsome man kissing half the fair is the nurse Mellark you’re always gushing about, with the home baked cookies and the cute little drawings for the oncology patients?” Her gray eyes x-rayed her sister.

“Uh, yeah,” Prim sounded a bit too nonchalant. “He’s amazing, let me tell you,” she sort of mumbled, studying her cuticles.

“Hey! What did I miss?” Johanna came back munching on a box of nachos, swimming in melted cheese. “Oooh! Elephant ear!” She said, snatching the funnel cake Prim was holding awkwardly.

“Primrose forgot to mention that her most favorite nurse in the whole world is a HE!” Katniss snapped.

“What?!”

“What’s so wrong about that? Men can be nurses,” Prim shrugged.

“But you didn’t tell me he was a man!”

“Well, you didn’t tell me you were a sexist pig, Katniss.”

“I am not!”

Johanna giggled, stuffing her face with fair food.

“Nurse Mellark is a great care provider who loves children and does his absolute best to bring joy during the worst time of our patients’ lives…What does it matter if he’s a guy? He’s great! What did you expect anyway?” Prim countered defensively, stubbornly.

“I don’t know! An elderly lady, with lots of motherly wisdom or something… I mean, every time you talked about nurse Mellark, you mentioned delicious homemade pastries, and finger paints, and sweet bedtime stories… I never pictured nurse Mellark to be so…”

“Manly,” Johanna finished, looking at the man in the booth, dreamily, finally having caught on. “He’s more of a tall tree trunk I’d like to climb like a koala bear in heat… now where’s my cash, brainless, my lips are ready for some smacking,”

“Johanna!” Katniss growled, but her friend waved her off. A thought occurred to her just then. “Prim…” Katniss whispered into her sister’s ear, “Are you…okay with this?” She said motioning to the 20 or so women in line. “Are you okay with all these people kissing nurse Mellark?”

Primrose’s lips twitched, “Why wouldn’t I be? This booth was sort of my idea… it was actually more about Doctor Odair selling the kisses, but nurse Mellark was very good sport, volunteering, ” She rolled her blue eyes.

“Mmm… I just thought, maybe you had a thing for him?”

“For Peeta?!” Prim said loudly, before laughing hysterically.

Katniss’ eyes shifted everywhere, and to her chagrin, the man in question— Peeta, apparently— looked up at his name.

“Not so loud!” Katniss hissed, but got interrupted by a booming voice.

“Ladies, it is time for me to take a break.” Announced nurse Mellark— Peeta— A chorus of disgruntled patrons filled the air, but the man raised his hands placatingly, “Not to worry everyone, my pinch hitter, Doctor Odair, is ready to take over!”

As if by magic, the most attractive man Katniss had ever seen in her life— besides the beautiful male nurse, of course— popped from beside nurse Mellark and a collective swooning sigh rapped over the small crowd.

Prim laughed. “Come on, I’ll introduce you guys properly. You’re going to love Peeta!”

“Hell no! I’m paying double for the new guy! You gals go ahead,” Johanna called, wolf whistling at the newcomer, waving two dollar bills in the air.

A moment later, Prim had dragged Katniss to meet her most favorite nurse, secretly crossing her fingers as she made introductions…she thought Peeta and Katniss were perfect for each other, and she wholeheartedly hoped they would kick it off right away, so when she was wrinkly and white haired, she could tell her grand nephews and nieces the story of how their grandma paid a dollar to kiss their grandpa for the very first time.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #winter 2021 #Valentine’s Day #alliswell21 #submission #prompt

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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

Note

Yay lasertag!!! Janus you should totally go visit Remus on the weekend and hang out! Also, maybe invite Remy too, if they wanna come. Then (specially if they don't show) you can plan with them both to maybe go on another hangout with Remus but to somewhere you like and let Remy tag along for the ride if they wanna while u're at it.

(Words: 3153 words)

Janus: "Ah yes! I will let you know that after hanging out with Remus I managed to use my incredible totally very good texting skills to ask the Rems if they wanted to go to an art museum and they both for some reaosn, maybe they are being blackmailed, said yes! I hope it will go g-"

He cut himself off as he saw the two Rems come towards him. He had been waiting outside the museum. (Honestly half the reason he had choosen it was because he knew Remus liked art)

Remus waved at him while grinning. He had on sweatpants, a way too large t-shirt and a necklace made out of animal bones. Remy had their arm swung around him. Even though they had sunglasses on their eyebags were still visible.

“Aight gamers! Are we ready to do an epic art heist!! I got my sunglasses ready!” Remus exclaimed. He didn’t, he was planning on stealing Remy’s sunglasses.

“Partner you’re forgetting that we must first observe the security measures of the museum before we can even start to plan the heist” Janus replied.

“Oh!!! That’s what we’re doing today isn’t it??”

“Correct partner!”

“Babes I dunno why you gotta steal art when I’m standing right here” Remy added while posing.

“Good point. Good point”

Janus had on a yellow bowtie he’d gotten from Logan, a loose purple shirt and black dress pants. People had to look fancy when they went to museums right? Remy had a skirt short enough to fool god and their boyfriend’s hoodie on (it looked oversized on them but with how skinny they were Everything looked oversized on them).

As soon as they got in Remus started to bounce up and down as he looked at the posters showing all the different exhibitions. There was a modern art one, classical and one smaller exhibition for specifically mosaic works.

“So whatcha you wanna look at Snakey?” Remus asked.

Janus was caught of guard “Why are you asking me?”

“Well you chose how we would hang out. C’mon you deserve to choose this too”

He looked over to Remy who shrugged “Uhm okay. Well. The classical paintings would proably give us the most money on the black market so lets look at those”

“Yay!”

Remus quickly took on his noise canceling headphones and a chew necklace before doing thumbs up. He firmly took Janus’ hand in his. He sent him a soft smile which made Jan’s heart spin before dashing of with him into the exhibition.

A few big paintings from the renaissance hung on the wall. Remy came a little later since with the cane they walked pretty slow. Remus eyed the paintings from a distance before squinting at them up close. He flapped the hand he was hoding Janus with around.

"Oh!!! This is so cool!!!! This is from the renaissance but it's not using the chiaro oscuro technique like everyone did 'cause Da Vinci would eat their newborn if they didnt!”

"Is that why it's looking flatter than me?" Remy asked.

“YEah!! Augh I love the renaissance!!! Mostly because they were dissecting bodies so much!! sometimes for the sole purpose of drawing anatomy better!! I wanna do that! Or watch someone do that! Getting to see one of those old classrooms where they dissected corpses would be so awesome!”

“Huh good way to get rid of bodies. Great time for serial killers” Janus commented.

He let out a dreamy sigh “It truly was. They’re doing serial killers dirty nowadays”

They went through some more rooms of renaissance paintings. Janus made sure to hold Remus back a bit so Remy could keep up with them. The duke kept rambling about different shading techniques.

They stepped into another room and the style changed. Remus continued to flap his hand nonetheless. Janus was definitely going to have pain in his wrist tomorrow. It was worth it if he could hold his hand though.

Remy leaned their elbow on top of Janus’ head “This is like the baroque time right?”

“YEah!” Remus’ eyes went huge “Bean you didn’t tell me you were into art history??! Do you know about Ruben too?? I like how he paints butts!”

“What? Nah. I just- I can like see it on the clothes in the paintings. Can’t you?”

“Do I look like a time traveling fashiong guru” Janus replied sarcastically “That is honestly impressive”

Remy sunk in on themself and a hint of red appeared on their cheeks “No. Nah. I’m like a total airhead! Completel idiot! hehe I’m like tots sure everyone knows this stuff. Y’all are just bad at fashion. I uh anyway Rem you were gonna rant?”

“I was?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh....Okay!!” He looked around the room before getting caught on a small painting in the corner. He dashed over to it “HANds!”

The painting depicted 2 bloody hands over a table. They were holding onto each other. the red stuck out against the dark background. It was hard to see if they were supposed to belong to two people who were fighting or in love.

Remus looked down at Janus’ hand while playing with his fingers “I think my favorite body part are hands” He mumbled “I mean they’re horseshit to draw but they can do so much”

Janus looked away from the painting as well. He let his crush do whatever he wanted with his hand as long as he kept holding it. the way he held him so lightly but kept rubbing his thumb up and down his skin made him melt.

“Yeah they can do a lot of fucked up shit” Remy butted in. Jan nearly jumped. He’d completely lost himself in adoring his crush.

“Well hands can also be used to give snakes small berries! And to make coffee!”

“Girl I wasn’t starting an argument. But you sure did won it!”

Remus was staring down into the floor as he said “When I become a cannibal I would wanna try eating human fingers first. I’m sure they would be tasty”

“Why was there a when in there?” Jan asked in a small amount of terror.

“Oh yeah babe totally. I will like actually eat a dick” Remy agreed.

“Why is there a will in there? What kind of time tenses are you people on?? Does english grammar mean nothing to you heathens!?”

Remy got a smug look on their face. They poked their finger right into Janus’ chest “C’mon say what you will eat when you become a cannibal”

“Yeah Snakey” Remus squished his cheeks “Say it! Say it! Say it!”

The two of them kept going on while Janus looked like a sour lemon until he finally caved in.

“Fine. I would either eat the stomach or....the buttocks since they would have the most fat and sustain me the longest”

The Rems looked at each other before bursting out into laughter. “He said butT!” Remus cackled out. The other Rem nodded along and pretended to wipe away a tear from laughter.

“Aight babe let’s put the guy out of his misery”

They motioned for Remus to go ahead. He happily skipped into the next room and grabbed Jan’s hand to take him with him. The snake couldn’t help but notice how Remy stayed behind for a monent.

“Oh cool!! We’re onto impressionism! The first real art style!” He sighed “From impressionism to cartoon furries. How magical the journey of art is”

(Jan who had a scaley phase in high school chose to not reply)

“I love the music as well. Crazy lads. My favorite lad?” Remus snickered “De bussy!!”

“That’s my porn name” Remy instantly replied, coming up behind them. “Hey that paint lady kinda like looks like Terra” They pointed at a painting.

“....Hey YEaH! I guess my art is timeless!”

Janus looked between them “who’s Terra?”

“Well girl” Remy playfully ruffled Remus’ hair “She’s just Rem’s tots cool like cartoon character. She’s like all over his sketchbook. Makes it look kinda straight if you ask me but she does have like a very cool design so I get it!”

“Oh......Yes...Sounds very....cool”

The group kept going around looking at art. While it felt like lead was filling Janus’ chest. He’d never heard about Terra. He’d never seen his sketchbook. Meaning they had spent time with each other without him.

He pierced his nails into his palms to stop the thoughts. He refused to be some jealous person who didn’t allow his friends to hang out without him.....Still he wish he could have seen the drawings as well....seen them smile together...heard their shared laughter....

Oh. Oh what if they thought he was annoying. What if they preferred being without him. What if he’d forced them to come here today. What if-

“Hey snakey wanna look at the modern art as well?” Remus interrupted.

“What?”

Without realizing they’d gone through all of the classic art. Now they were in the last room with not much more than a giant painting the size of one of the walls and a bench.

“That sounds horrid!”

“Yay!”

Remus quickly continued of into the next exhibition. Janus still had the taste of lead filling his throat as he went to follow. Until he realized Remy wasn’t there. He turned around and saw them sitting on the bench in front of the painting. They were leaning their arms on their cane.

“It would probably give us a lot on the black market” Jan said while sitting down beside them.

“Mhm. It’s pretty. I just like wanted to look at it some more” They lied.

“Understandable”

The painting was pretty much a big flower field with a summer sky shining down on it. Janus noticed how Remy forced deep breathes through their gritted teeth. Their brows were furrowed and their hands kept shaking.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course!”

“I have some painkillers with me. Would that help agains the pain you’re totally not in?”

They glanced over to him “Girl what you doing walking around with painkillers?”

He looked at them with the most deadpan expression “Remy I’m overweight. You can not phantom how often I get knee pain" He took out a pill and held it out to them "Here"

"There's really like no need! I can like handle it"

Even more deadpan "You shouldn’t have to ‘handle it’. It's 1 painkiller dear. I'm not exactly becoming a saint because of this"

They hesitantly took it "Thanks"

He did fingerguns "No problemo"

They stayed sitting for a bit so the pill could kick in. Jan shuly glanced over to admire them every now and then. Remy kept looking down into the floor while picking at their skin.

“I’m sorry” They said it in a much quieter voice than their usual high pitched one “I tried to do everything right so I wouldn’t ruin everything. I even went to bed early so I wouldn’t get tired....I...I really looked forward to getting to be with you two”

Janus heart beat faster. He pulled himself together to comfort them “You haven’t ruined a thing”

They hid their face in their hands “I’ve been tired and out of it all day. I keep like slowing you down. Don’t think I haven’t like noticed how much you have to hold Rem back from going faster! I’ve just been making this all much worse than it should have been”

“Well you’re here aren’t you? I for one appreciate you simply being here. You don’t have to do anything to make me appreciate you, don’t even have to talk. I hope you know that”

“....really?”

“Oh no darling I totally expect you to win the nobel prize while in a kind of pain I can’t even imagine being in on a daily basis”

Remy chuckled “Thanks”

“There’s really no need for that. I am at any and all times doing the absolute minimum to be counted as a decent human being”

“Sure snakey-babey” They had a soft smile on their face.

They moved to hug him. Their arms wrapped around his back and they muffled their head right between his man titties. Janus sat still for a few seconds, too flustered to think before moving his arms around them as well. A hand on the back of their head, another on their lower back. Their skin felt so cold against his.

Remy closed their eyes and let themself calm down. They could feel Janus’ breathing against their hair.

“I think my fav like human part is the chest” They mumbled out “‘Cause I can hear the heart beat. It reminds me I’m- we’re still like alive”

“Like a bloody biological seashell”

“Exactly” They pressed themself closer. “I like being with you” It was nothing more than a whisper, like it was a secret “When you’re here I feel a bit less like a rotting corpse”

Janus held onto them harder “Well I-I try my best”

“I know babe”

His heart was beating out of his chest. The people around them must think they were a couple. He closed his eyes and focused on Remy’s touch, on Picani’s words from their last session. He managed to push enough of the shame away and focus on the happy butterflies in his stomach instead.

Remy moved away. The moment broke.

“We should probs go find Rem before he starts like eating the art”

“haha yeah” Janus did thumbs up but kept sitting. He’d gone full idiot.

It wasn’t until he saw Remy straining to stand up even with the cane his brain kicked back in.

“Is there some way I could help?”

They didn’t answer. But they did lean their arm around his shoulder to let him carry some of their weight. They slowly but surely made their way to the modern art exhibition.

Remus was sitting crosslegged in front of a weird statue, he was doodling in his sketchbook but shone up into a smile when he saw them.

“There you are! I was starting to think that either the zombie apocalypse had started or you were making out somehwere”

“Oh yeah babe. Full tounge” Remy joked back. Jan let out an inhumane noise.

He closed his sketchbook “I think we’re done here. You’re looking tired beanie. We can come back some other day”

Remy held back the urge to lie that they were fine. Instead they weakly nodded.

The gang left the museum. Right beside it was an ice cream shop. Remus got 3 scoops of a worryingly weird mix of flavors. Janus got 1 scoop of lemon. Remy didn’t feel like eating.

They sat down on a couple of benches right outside. Remy laid down with their head leaned onto Remus’ thigh. He chewed his ice cream while calmly moving his hand up and down their back.

Soon enough they were deep asleep. Janus quickly laid his jacket over their legs. He didn’t want to accidentally see anything under their skirt without their consent.

Remus stared at him like a blood sucking eagle while smiling “Soooo now when beanie is in dream land.......Do” He stopped to giggle “Janny. Janny. Do. Do you like someooooonnneee??”

Janus just blinked at him for half a minute. This was too much. This whole day was too much. He was a wreck. His crush was asking him THis?! While his other crush was laying in his crush’s lap?!?

“Why- Why- What- Who are you working for?! The fucking FBI??? Are they after me?” He desperately tried to joke it away.

“No. No. But seriously JanJan!” He wiggled his shoulders around in a stimmy way “Do you happen to like anyone with a name that starts on R????”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Janus kept glancing between his two crushes while his blushing could be seen out into space. He wanted to lie but his mouth wouldn’t move.

Remus leaned closer and whispered “You’re into Remy right?”

He nodded. A breathe of relief went through him. At least Remus didn’t know he liked him.

“OH I KNEW IT!” Remus yelled out in excitement while flapping his hands.

“Shh! Shh!” Janus scrambled to cover his mouth as Remy stirred for a moment. “Shhhh!” They cuddled closer to their friend and fell back asleep.

“I knew it!” He giggled “Or I mean Remy knew. They told me they thought you were into them”

“WHAT?!”

Now it was Remus that covered his mouth. He was full on cackling “Yeah! They said it was really obvious! But good for you snakey! I’m sure if you murder their boyfriend you can get them in no time! Or you can become a fab homewrecker!! I can help you buy a nice sexy dress and all!!”

Janus paled in terror “How- In- What- In what way did they say it was obvious?”

“Oh y’know-”

The notif on his phone went off. He checked and his eyes went wide. He carefully moved Remy’s head onto the bench before standing up.

“Sorry snakey! Ro needs super duper emergency help! Gotta go!! See you later! Don’t die!”

Remus left him just like that. Right after dropping THAT bomb on him. Janus sat unmoving. His mouth was slightly agape in shock. His thoughts were runnig around screaming nonstop.

He sat like that for over 20 minutes until Remy let out a yawn and slowly woke up. They took off their sunglasses to rub their eyes. Just seeing their vibrantly green eyes made Janus panic even more.

“Did Rem disintegrate?” Their voice was hoarse from sleepyness. Janus pinched himself to hold back the uhm feelings.

“He- he uh he went he went he sure did went yeah”

“....Cool!”

They stretched their joints, they all cracked. They looked to Janus and moved closer. He couldn’t breathe. They knew. They knew. They knew.

“Girl are you feeling okay?” They pressed their palm to his forehead “You’re like super hot. In both ways! Maybe you should like go home and rest. I gotta get home before my boyf gets home anyway”

“Y-yeah” Was all Janus could get out.

“Cool. OH! By the way! Girl!!! We haven’t like hung out just the two of us right?? We should tots do that! Just like tell me whatever you wanna do and we can do it!”

“Yeah”

“Awesome! Well I’ll see you on that hang out then”

They hugged him for just a few seconds but for those seconds Janus felt like he was in heaven.

They got up and left. Janus slumped over on the bench. His heart was going crazy. They knew. They knew and now they wanted to hang out alone with him. He turned to you. His eyes were wide and panicked.

Janus: “W-what am I supposed to do? I don’t know any good hang out plans! Do you know any??? I’m- this is all- how did they even know I like them! Oh I’m sounding like an overdramatic 13 year old.....This totally isn’t really overwhelming. I would hate getting Logan cuddles right now!”

#thanks for the ask!!#im sorry these keep getting longer #i really do try to cut them down #dukeceit #demus #janus sanders #remus sanders #remy sanders #mini fic #sanders sides #desleep #desleepmus #dukeceitsleep

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hopelesslyinlovewithanime · 3 years

Text

Bad boy Connie x reader

It was midnight and you were with Connie in your shared apartment. he decides to go out to the balcony for a smoke. While taking a few puffs of his cigarette he hears a click and he turns around and sees that you've locked the door he looks at you for a second and thought to himself "did this brat really lock the door".

Connie turns around and takes a few steps towards the door before stopping dropping the cigarette and stepping on it while he glares at you "what the hell are you doing?".

You look up at him with an innocent look and smirk "open it" he said . You smile at him and say"im not gonna! Until you stop smoking then I'll open it for you".

He only looked at you and laughed "your cute y/n" he proceeded to stick his middle finger at you flipping you off."fuck you.you got a push up bra on " you glare at him. With a smirk you unclip your bra and you both watch it drop to the floor Connie eyes me and sees that your bare breast were out.

You press your bare breast against the glass and say "what are you gonna do huh~?" You said seductively. Connie eyes glue to your round soft breast and glanced away from you telling himself "really y/n its n-not gonna work this time" you giggle at his flushed face.

You turn around and pull. Down your booty shorts revealing your skimpy (f/c) underwear as you press your ass against the glass causing him to look over at you with a lit up expression.

"Lower! Lower! Lower!"he said with puppy dog eyes along with a small pout as he pointed at your panties.

"Wow you have a pretty ass y/n" you giggle at his comment and began to continue teasing him but...

As you continue to tease him by pressing your ass against the glass and wiggling your hips lightly "you want to fuck me huh? Well maybe if you be a good boy you can" you giggle as Connie clenched his fist you turn to look at Connie and see that hes rock hard.

"ooooooh look at how big it got". Connie only gave me a sadistic smile as he points at you through the glass "I'm gonna kill you when I get in there". You mockingly laugh and you turned around to continue to mock him "I'm not gonna open it so you cant kill me".

But once you turned around he was gone and you began to panic "Connie? CONNIE!" you ran over to the balcony and began to tear up until you heard the Door knock at fist you didnt think much of it still woried about eren until you heard "OPEN THE DAM DOOR".

You ran towards the door to try to lock it only to be met with a hard large cock in front of your face. You squeak as you look up to see a panting and frustrated Connie.

"why is it so hard and it's way bigger than before" you questioned a small sense of fear in your voice. He only glared at you and said "wanna see how angry I can get".

he said in a low and stern voice as he took of his shirt and grabbed your wrist and turned you around as he took his shirt and began to tie you up with it. "I'll kick you" he only smirked.

"so your just gonna keep being a brat or are you gonna be a good girl and take this fat cock".

You were silent not even a whimper left you he smiled widely at you " I see your quiet not for long though" he slapped your ass up and shoved your head against the pillow as he slowly shoved his cock inside of you and started thrusting inside of you with a rough pace.

You begin to cry out "C-Connie p-please gentler slow down I-it hurts when you aaaaaah~". Connie continued his brutal pace and and moaned out "what I cant hear you baby might have to say it a bit louder".

"I-im gonna c-caaaaaaa~" Connie looked at you with shock at how fast you came "im gonna take it out okay" he said in a worried yet annoyed tone.

"N-no dont take it out it feels weiiiiiiiird" you let out moan and covered your face in embarresment. Connie then grabbed your wrist and began to spread your legs and putting them on his shoulders.

You look up at Connie with fear and annoyance in your eyes "hey what the hell i came already" Connie let out an animalistic growl.

WHAT ABOUT ME HUH I STILL NEED TO CUM WE ARENT FINISH YET" Connie said with an annoyance in his voice he grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulder then shoved his entire length inside of you .

You cry out and say " F-FINE I WONT I-I WONT TEASE YOU LIKE THAT A-AGAIN" you tear up at how big he was inside of you. Connie smirked and said "you sure" you nodded your head as drool began to fall on the side of your mouth.

"Then call me Daddy" you blush even harder at his words "I-i" Connie thrusts harder inside of you "Say it now". You whine "D-DADDY!" You scream in pleasure as you cum for the second time.

Connie smiled down at you as he cums right after letting out a relieved sigh as he collapse next to you. Then it hits you. You lost to Connie again.

You let out a whimper"hehe I'm tired" he only glances at you and gave you a annoyed glare "your tired I should be tired.

As connie was pulling out a cigarette from the lower draw you jump from behind him wrapping your arms around his torso "sorry I teased you daddy~"

He only sucked his teeth with a light blush on his cheeks "dont test me..." he says lighting his cigarette

You giggle but you realized you had one more trick up your sleeves.

You were getting ready for a girl's night out while connie sat on the couch with a cigarette watching tv.

"Yay my friend is back to town! I haven't seen her for so long" connie only looked at you and noticed something.

"You never put makeup when you're with me" he pouted whilst taking a puff of his cigarette.

"Whatever its different! And why should I wear makeup with you anyway your my boyfriend" you say with a hint of annoyance in your voice.

Connie sighed "whatever just go get ready so people won't get surprised by your fa-"

You glare at him and flick him on the forehead " shut up!" His eyes slowly followed you as you made your way to the closet to get some strap on heels.

You sit on Connie's lap and smirk at him " what do you think~" you say in a cheerful tone

Connie only blushed and nodded "it l-looks cute on you" he says as he puts a hand on your waist while holding his cigarette in the other.

You smile and look at your phone and see that your friend texted you" oop my friend texted me I gotta go bye ba-" connie grabbed your wrist Setting the cigarette aside.

You look back at him with a confused stare.

"Connie let go I gotta go" you say as he gets up and grabs his hoodie. " not without me, your not going out looking like that".

You huffed as you cross your arms waiting for him by the door.

SLAP

He smacked your ass while walking passed you " you coming or not."

You blush and grumble as you two make your way downstairs. As you two make it downstairs you see your taxi.

"Bye baby I lov-" connie grabs you by your face cuffing your face. " if you need anything call me. And if any guy stares at you. You tell me alright I'll take care of him..."

You giggle " I'll be fine baby I love you" you wrap your arms around his waist as he kisses your forehead.

You wave at him as you make your way to the taxi suprised he didn't leave yet.

Connie waved as he takes out another cigarette and made his way back to your shared apartment.

#connie smut #attack on titan connie #connie snk #connie x reader #connie springer

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

Spoopy! Spoopy! Spoopy!

OTP Challenge 10/01/2020

Pairing: daddy!Thor x Reader Word Count: 1,273

Warnings: fluff, lots of fluff, tooth rotting fluff

A/N: This is for @thefanficfaerie ‘s OTP Spooktacular Halloween Challenge. I’m gonna have so much fun coming back to this couple. They’re one of my favorites and I know some of you have asked for more of their day to day stuff so that’s what this will hopefully be. I’m going to seriously try and do this every day. Like Nanowrimo but for Halloween! Thanks for reading and if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Making decisions will be the death of you. Especially decisions this important.

Okay, maybe this isn’t vital in the grand scheme of things but for you, this is of the utmost importance because soon you’ll be sharing your very first Halloween with Thor.

Ben has not been able to stop talking about what he calls, spoopies.

A cute melding of spooky festivities that he created when you’d explained Halloween to him as he got bigger.

You want to make this year special. More special than it will already be with Thor here to celebrate with you.

“My love?” He calls you, voice deep and smooth like warm velvet.

Your heart stutters when your eyes find him, his hands wrapped around the handle of a bright red shopping cart laden with an array of spoopy decorations, as Ben would say.

He sits between Thor’s arms in the cart, swinging his little feet as he fidget with the smooth bleached plastic of a decorative skull. His brow furrowed as his five year old mind memorizes every dip and divot.

On his chest, harnessed to him so that she faces outward is your five-month-old little Roslyn. Heads and shoulders above her milestones, she sits confidently against Thor’s chest, her little legs kicking wildly as she spots you, her little lips puckered as she breathes in and out quickly. She’s hyperventilating it looks like with the excitement she feels at the sight of you.

She releases a fierce and high pitched battle cry to get your attention which she already mostly has save for the part of your brain that is highly focused on the irresistible image of Thor pushing a cart with your little girl strapped to his chest and your son relaxed between his protective hold.

Even though it looks normal, Thor is on alert. Always when the four of you are out and about. He’s been a wreck with worry since the two of you got married and the media got a hold of the photos.

Benny’s face had been plastered across every paper, magazine, and internet article along with your own and Thor had been livid.

It took the entirety of the Avengers to calm him and even then, Tony had Steve keep a pair of arc reactor powered handcuffs nearby. Just in case.

“Wanna borrow them later?” Tony had teased you, wiggling his eyebrows at you while Thor fumed at the other side of the common room in the compound.

Idiot.

So even if he’s learned to pretend that he’s relaxed in public, his defense is always up. His vigilance heightened. A feral daddy for his precious little ones who now everyone knows thanks to the nature of a media driven world.

“What’s that?” You frown, moving closer to him to reach for a spot on his shoulder. The strange shape of an oblong wet spot stains the soft fabric of his charcoal pea coat. Underneath, his white shirt stands bright in contrast.

“What?” He searches the spot you touch before sweeping his hand underneath yours to grab and pull to his lips where he presses a soft kiss to the base of your palm. “It’s a little bit of spittle.”

“That doesn’t look like drool, Thor.” You frown, looking to Rosie who grabs at your shirt now that you’re within reach.

“Rosie threw up a little. She’s alright.” He promises, pulling your hand up to his lips again.

There’s a flurry of gasps and murmurings from behind you and you make to pull your hand away to avoid getting caught on camera in a display of tooth-rotting affection but Thor holds on tighter, keeping his lips pressed to your hand.

With a sigh, you relent and let him do as he pleases, frowning at him instead because you know exactly what’s happening here.

“Thor, did you throw her up in the air again?”

Thor drops your hand and throws his arms out to the sides, a look of getting caught contorting his handsome features into the goof you’ve come to know and love.

“She likes it!” He explains.

With a growl you move back towards the shelf you’d been pondering.

“I won’t do it again.” Thor lies. “I promise.”

“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep Thor. Or I’ll start making you pay for them.” You threaten and you gasp as his head is beside you suddenly, lips close but not too close as he’s only slightly bent down towards you as he whispers.

“Punishment?” He whispers and the heat of his breath makes your skin pimple. “I like a good spanking.”

“Shut up!” You push his face away and he erupts into hearty chuckles as Rosie coos and giggles with her daddy.

“Why have you been standing here for hours on end?” Thor asks, his focus on Rosie however as she reaches towards the shelf to grab at a pair of cute light up pumpkins. Not exactly spooky but the color changes from yellow to green, purple, blue, red, orange, and back to yellow.

“I can’t decide what to get.” You confess, adjusting the baby bag on your shoulder.

Thor contemplates the decorations brow furrowed as he also blindly reaches for the bag on your shoulder, taking it from you to place on his own massive shoulders.

“Well, Rosie likes the pumpkins, get those.” He points at them, reaching with his other hand to take hold of Rosie’s little hand.

She wraps her fingers around his tightly, squeezing with surprising strength. Their Asgardian blood is strong and have clearly overtaken your own human genes.

“Daddy?” Ben’s voice interjects, thoughtful and low.

When the two of you turn to look at him, you find him pouting.

“Which ones shall we get, my son? Which would you prefer?” Thor wonders, looking down at his little boy.

“I wan’ the spoopy ones, daddy. Spoopy. Wike vampiewos o’ woofs, ‘o monstuss.” Ben explains, his speech still a little bit of a worry for you but Doctor Cho assures you he’s fine and will grow out of it.

“But then you’ll be up at night, sweet pea. I don’t want you to be scared.” You reach over to stroke his cheek and he shakes his head firmly.

“Nooo, mommy. I’m bwave!” He declares. “Get the spoopy ones.”

“Why not jus get both?” Thor suggest and reaches over you to grab a set of the light up pumpkins and adds them to the pile of other more homely decorations you’d picked out earlier. Pillows and throws with pumpkins and ghosts and witches. Garlands and lights, small mini pumpkins and brooms and candy buckets to put in your kitchen.

“Both?” You gasp, a little surprise but also because you didn’t think of it first.

“Yes.” Thor smiles amused by your shock but then grabs the set of scary faces in mirrors that disappear and reappear. “We can make both our children happy.”

“Yay!” Ben cheers, clapping his hands and abandoning the fake skull you’d picked out for the living room side table among the other decorations. “Spoopy! Spoopy! Spoopy!”

His chanting draws a chuckle from Thor, a fond caress from you, and giggles from the others watching from the end of the aisle made too scared by those videos of Thor threatening strangers who’d gotten too close to you or the babies to move closer.

The world loves Ben and Rosie, and though the exposure has made you wary of the possible threats that might come from being so out in the open about your lives together, you relish in the fact that they seem to love your sweet little peas just as much as you do.

#otp challenge #spooktacular halloween #thor x reader #to be seen #daddy!thor x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #thor odinson x reader #thor fluff #shreddedparchment #to be seen otp #pt.01

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shinsoups · 3 years

Text

Student No. 22 —

m a s t e r l i s t

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x f!reader x class1a

genre: 1tbsp of crack, 1 tsp of fluff, a sprinkle of angst and 1 cup of chaotic randomness

synopsis: y/n was certain she would never be a Hero. She had a different goal in her mind, and that is to be a great doctor someday. With a terrible past she wants to forget, she vows she would never use her Quirk and will never let the world know what it is. Not until she finds out that the invincible quirk she thought she has can also have a certain weakness.

random updates

a/n: canon Shinsou is joining hero class for their second year but I'm gonna make him part of Class 1A already yay!

OO4.1 : Hero vs Villain —

You can feel the tension wash over you when every student started to pile out the changing rooms and proceeded towards the training ground. The farther you drag your feet, the deeper your thoughts ran riot. Who was the person who just controlled you? How did that happen so fast and why did Aizawa never bothered stopping the fight? The secret you hold on to for so long was now out in the open for the whole class to see. The adrenaline rush you felt earlier started to subside, panic once again spreading on your nerves.

Was this their plan from the start? You stopped in your tracks upon realization, clenching your fists, knuckles turning white...are they trying to control and use you? Is the HSPC behind this? Are they going to make you into something like Hawks is? You shuddered with the thought.

A warm hand suddenly pulled you out of reverie. Asui, was it? The green haired girl stood in front of you with worried eyes. "y/n-chan?" she tilted her head sideways, "Is everything okay?"

It’s not the question that startled you, but the idea of someone worrying for you shook you to the core. Growing up in a household without any affection, the warmth of the hand comforting you somehow made you feel at ease. Your eyes soften until the tension on your shoulders loosens a bit “Asui-san, is there--”

"You can call me Tsuyu," she says.

“Uhmm Tsuyu-san, actually--” you started to fidget when more of your classmates started to hover beside you. Tsuyu and her friends were now circling you asking if you were all right. Midoriya carried on staring at you somehow urging you to confide to them. After some thought, you mentally sighed and told them.

"Earlier about what happened...I didn't mean to fight that guy. My body--"

You looked at them with hesitation on your eyes, "Someone was controlling me. I wasn't in control, but my body was moving on its own telling me to fight him. After that... everything suddenly turned blurry until I slapped myself. I swear I'm not..." you sighed, your eyes meeting Todoroki’s mismatched colored ones.

"-bad." the last word turned into a hush.

Were you trying to convince them? Or were you trying to tell that yourself? The idea of being controlled somehow made you twitch in disgust, but the thought of crushing someone else's dreams weighed you even down. This is why you don't want anyone to find out about it. People obsessing over Quirks, people limiting their selves cause of it...you don’t want any of that. You don’t want to hinder anyone, so why can’t the HPSC leave you all alone?

The four of them exchange knowing glances, Uraraka was the first to speak, "We know. It's because you replied back to him." She looked at Midoriya.

"Him?"

"Ahh...Shinsou-kun. The guy sitting next to you in class." Midoriya pressed a hand on the back of his neck, lost in thoughts.

Todoroki supplied, "His Quirk is Brainwashing.”

“I don't have any idea why he would suddenly use his Quirk against you since it is not allowed inside the classroom. But can I ask you a question y/n?" Midoriya continued.

Brainswashing...so that's why. You nodded, mentally listing reasons on why he would do so and how his Quirk passed through yours. The shocking realization made you want to know more about him and his power. How and why can he pass yours? Your invincible Quirk you once thought was impermeable now has a weakness...interesting.

The five of you started to walk again towards the exit, waiting for Midoriya to shoot his question. He awkwardly waved his hands, eyes not looking at yours, telling you that it's okay not to answer if you're uncomfortable with it.

"I-I've never seen any Quirk like yours. I thought that Aizawa-sensei erased Kacchan's quirk when he was fighting you, but the fire explosions kept coming. Yet your body somehow takes the blow and the fire disappears right after hitting you leaving no damage at all. You can nullify fire attacks? But you also have Stealth since you ran so fast. Do you have multiple Quirks?" he mumbled continuously lost in his own trail of thoughts.

He looked really interested, a look just like yours whenever you take notes about different Quirks and their weaknesses on your notes. You sighed a small smile lingers on the corner of your lips. They just saw what happened but why are they acting so interested and not disgusted by it? Why are they so excited to find out about it? You expected them to reject you just like all those kids who harmed you when you were young. The main reason why you were home-schooled and never let anyone know about you. Should you just go on and tell them? You debated but before you could reply, the class representative were calling all of you to hurry up.

-----------------

Class 1-A stood infront of the large gates of the training ground— ruins and buildings scattered behind just like a city damaged by a real battle.

Holding a box, Aizawa’s tired eyes settles on everyone in front of him. “I’ll draw your names out.” His voiced drawled out in exhaustion. “7 teams in total. A group will consist of 2 heroes and one villain to act out. The only way to win is when you capture your enemies with this tape or if you get this badge pinned on your enemies. Once taped or the pin is stolen from you, you’re not allowed to fight anymore.” Aizawa held up a little button pin with a red x mark.

Iida realizing that there are now twenty two of them stuck out his hand, “Sensei!”

But before he could ask his question Aizawa already supplied an answer, “This class exercise will help you in situations were in heroes who never worked together before will get to partner up and adapt to the situation to defeat the villain. Since there are 22 of you now, one group will have 2 villains. The first two I’ll call will be the heroes and the last one would be the villain. Just group yourselves once called and proceed to the waiting room after I’ve finished.”

Aizawa started calling out names. And maybe the gods of misfortune are on your side after hearing your own name called out in the first group. Belatedly realizing that you’ll be facing the same two people who you fought minutes after you introduced yourself in class.

Whispers soon started to rise when your name was called after Bakugou and Shinsou. A look of excitement soon spread across the blonde one. Shinsou on the other hand, had his shoulders slumped, stealing some glances on your way. Midoriya must have read the panic on your face, because he waved his hands mumbling once again and good naturedly tried to comfort you.

“y/n,” Aizawa’s voice drowned out the whispers as everyone’s attention were now on you. “Think of this as a first step in our agreement. Maybe you’ll soon find an answer once this exercise is finished. You can go all out.” He then pets your head, another unfamiliar gesture that shocked you. “This class will treat you as a hopeful hero just like them. You already showed you’re more than capable. If you accept yourself that you have that potential, maybe you’ll realize the answer for yourself.”

With that Aizawa proceeded to leave. The other students started to follow, leaving you Bakugou and Shinsou on the training ground. But before Midoriya could leave, you run towards him asking something you forgot earlier.

“Midoriya-kun, about his Quirk,” you whispered. “How does his Brainwashing works?”

Bakugou noticed Deku talking to the new student. Feeling someone’s gaze were on you locked eyes wthi the guy Midoriya kept calling Kacchan. He grunted with a smirk on his face “I’ll let you know who’s the strongest. Hey you--” he called out to Shinsou. “Don’t get in my way.” With that he walked towards the front of the gates leaving you three behind.

“Remember what I told you?” Midoriya asked once again. You nodded, thanking him for some information about your assigned enemies.

Shinsou looked at you when you walked towards them as you all waited for the gates to open. Sill feeling guilty about what happened, the apology left unsaid was still hanging on his mouth.

You breathe, trying to smooth the wrinkle on your shirt. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” he asked confused, tilting his head to look at you eye to eye.

“Don’t apologize, Shinsou-kun,” his name rolling out of your mouth made him unable to spit out the apology.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “I have a feeling they used you to get what they want. I won’t let them control me. I won’t let them get their way. I’ll do this my way.” You stared back at his dark purple irises, determined to let them know that your power is nothing important nor interesting. That the HPSC are just obsessed over your late parents’ Quirk experiments, looking for another set of talents for them to hone and use for their own good. You refused to be like them, to be like him.

“I can be a Hero in my own way. But if what they want is to let them see me use my Quirk, I’ll show it to them.” You grit your teeth accepting your fate. “Besides,”

A siren blasts signaling that the exercise is now starting. As soon as the gates opened Bakugou sprinted towards the designated Hero base, leaving you two behind.

“Besides, I need to know how you got me earlier.” You looked at him once again. “I won’t let you do that again to me.” With that being said, you ran towards your designated spot with a new found determination.

Shinsou places his detachable mask over his mouth, a small smile placed on his lips. “Like I said I worked my way to be able to sit where I am. I always dreamed of being a Hero. I’ll fight my way again to reach for that.” He races behind you, realizing that there’s a part of you similar to him.

“You’re not a villain just cause of your power, silly girl. So don’t hold back. Cause I sure hell won’t.” He shouted as he fall behind you.

You were tempted to answer, but recalling what Midoriya had told you, you bit your tongue to stop yourself. So instead you mouthed the words, “I WON’T.” Leaving Shinsou dazed once again as you ran in full speed leaving him on the empty streets of the training ground.

“Ahhh I should really work on my stamina,” he murmurs to himself as he catches his breath, running to where his hot-headed partner would be.

taglist: @sugarandsoft @roesaurus @moonlightbae14 @therealwalmartjesus @redperson58 @i-bitch-you-bitch @allie-munoz

🍥 general taglist: @b0ku4ka @skusamiya @chibishae34

i got a taglist im soft ~ want to join? just leave a comment or send an ask my dudes ✨

likes, comments and reblogs is highly appreciated 🐣 ✨

#shinsou hitoshi #bnha #bnha x reader #hitoshi shinsou #class 1a #shinou hitoshi x reader #class 1a x reader #bnha fic #shinsou hitoshi x y/n #shinsou hitoshi x f!reader #sey writes #🔖: student no. 22

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kanene-yaaay · 4 years

Text

Uh-Oh ~

Kanene’s note: Heya! YellowHeart!Anon talking here!!! xDDD Oh gosh, sorrey, I was nervous when I sent you the ask @oliviaischillin1204 (for absolutely no reason at all, you’re the sweetest, dear <3) and Your Precious AU that owns my heart. (first link the AU itself and second her t-fic of it).

Also, that fanfic was inspired in this scene of that manga.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belong to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders and his series Sanders Sides! And the AU belong to Olivia!

* This is a SFW Tickle-Fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* Oneshot. Something around 1.200 words. ( This fic is litol but it’s honest work. XD). Lee!Patton (and a bit of lee!Logan) and Ler!Janus (and a bit of Ler!Patton, as well) in Human AU. Romantic Moceit.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! I didn’t proofreaded this fic AT ALL ohmygosh I’m sorrey asdfghjklkjsdfgh. We die like a men. >:D

* I will probably make a second part for this? Maybe xDD. Poderá ser traduzida num futuro próximo. Só preciso de tempo aaa. Thankys so much for reading, my lollipops!! Have a wonderful and tickly day! Yay!!

[~*~]

Patton hummed lazily, his left-hand careless combing Logan’s hair while his free hand held his phone, watching the new episode of his favorite show with subtitles on, since, by the way the his son’s soft snores filled the air and a pressure laid on his chest, Logan fell asleep in the middle of their afternoon reading.

The parental figure lowered his gaze to his baby – he could almost hear Logan saying, a determined frown on his face, that ‘I’m not a baby, I’m seven!– resting a caring kiss on his forehead, his heart feeling like he could explode from all the love and cuteness. How was he so lucky to be the father of three wonderful, precious, amazing, smart, incredible and cute beings just like Logan, Remus and Roman? He had no idea.

The sound of steps pulled him from the sea of memories which began to flow. Patton directed his gaze to his husband, who just got in the room, stretching and yawning, probably he just had gotten up after putting the twins to sleep in one of the great amounts of naps and very much likely taking some minutes to snuggle with them and rest a bit as well.

“Pictureeee!!” Patton mouthed when their eyes met, his gaze flickering between Janus and Logan, a gigantic smile splitting his face in half, using every drop of self-control to not start to bounce.

Janus snorted and rolled his eyes fondly, however doing as asked. Patton turned to kiss Logan’s forehead again, this time for posing purposes.

Then a sensation shocked all his body, a yelp almost flying from his mouth and a squirm being held in the very last second. His head shouted to Janus’ direction.

Only to see the aforementioned toothless smiling and blinking in a mix of a smug, innocent face. Patton followed slowly the length of his arm, his heart beating quickly, as if he was in a horror movie, finally resting his fingers hovering inches away from his calf, wiggling, wiggling, wiggling.

“Janus!” Patton whispered, his voice failing when the other started to mindless poke and pinch the ticklish spot, the tingles running up his body nonstop, waking up his butterflies and muffled his bubbly giggles. “N-no!”

“Shhh, honey. You don’t want to wake Logan up, right?”

Patton widened his eyes, gaze quickly changing to Logan, who contently adjusted his sleepy form on his chest, nuzzling closer. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

“Uh-oh… Looks like someone is stuck. ~”

“Janus don’t-!” His sentence was quickly cut by snort, consequently making Patton slap his hand on his mouth, pressing it as heat took over his cheeks. Janus’ grin only expanded even more, now concentrating his attack on both calves.

One hand following an unbearable pattern consisted on drawing shapes from his ankle, fast spidering all his way up - taking full advantage on the opportunity to deliver some tickly scribbling on his way – across the length of his calf until research that spot just below the back of his knee, resting there with some great scratches, feeling the barely controlled kicks resulted of his new discovering.

“Ohoho myihi. S-s-stop!!” The other hand ceased his light squeezes in order to lift his index finger before his husband’s lips, the universal sign to ‘shhhh’ just worsening the state of the thousands of bouncy giggles already protesting for freedom on his throat. However, Janus was fast to lowering his fingers, clawing closer and closer and even closer, to his immensely sensitive skin.

“You’re doing so well, dear.” The so sweet, so teasy whispered tune leaded to the red on his face crawl to his neck, some titters escaping between his firmly pressed lips and closed fingers, tingles and goosebumps racing in every single other ticklish spot left untouched. Every single nerve pleading to be able to squirm and fight the tickles off. But no! Patton determined decided! Above his ticklishness he was a father! A dad! The peaceful nap of his loved kiddo would not be interrupted! He is going to be strong! “What if we play a game?”

He was going to die.

Patton shook his head and free hand, trying to get rid of the excited built energy, while not trusting in the slightest in his voice. Janus sticks resolute even under the glare of his so powerful Puppy Eyes, a dangerous gleam on his expression.

“It’s very, very easy, you see. Actually, I’m absolutely sure you will be…” He lightly tased his husband’s left calf, calmly resting his hand on the other. “Shocked at how much easy it is to win this game.”

The teasing, the tickles, the pun… Patton controlled the sea of squeals, using every piece of will to not break, silent snorts slipping from his cracks. Janus just leaned closer, being sure his breath tickled any and every inch of the so poor, so sad ticklish ears.

“The game is called: How much time can Pattycake endure before becoming a blushed mess of laughter?”

Patton felt his fingers prepare themselves, slightly folding as pressured multiple spots on both of his calves. “No, no! Not this, Janus!” He desperately pleaded, already giggling, already feeling Janus get ready to attack. “Love, love! You know I can’t stand-” His breath hitched, full laughter filling the room.

But it wasn’t his.

“Daddy is so red!!”

Everything stopped.

Patton traveled his watery glare, all the bubbly, squeaky giggled he had trapped now taking the opportunity to run away, between his son and husband. Logan and Janus, again, again, back and forth, back and forth.

The only adult up quick recomposed himself, the fate he would have if not controlled the situation making a wobbly piece of smile took over his features. He stared his partner dead on his eyes.

“I’ll help you to get Logan back. You know how adorably squeaky he gets when we both tickle his neck.”

“No!!” Logan jolted upright, betrayal painting his words. Big eyes looking at Patton – and his evil grin – when the other fixed his gaze on him. “It was Papa’s idea!!!”

The adult with glasses askew turned towards Janus.

“Logan’s. Giggles.”

“He was the one tickling you! He was being so mean!”

“I will make your favorite spaghetti for dinner.”

“I will learn how to cook! I can get your phone and see some videos and follow them you know I’m good at following insti-tituctions and you will only need to turn on the oven for me because you said fire is dangerous and-and then I can get a chair to climb on it and use the balcony I know I’m not the best at climbing trees and I almost fell but I won’t fall this time ‘cause I am good at climbing chairs and then I will make the best spaghetti ever and I can make it every every day just like you also cook food for me every day and I will also clean the dis-ches and eat everything on my plate even the greenies and-No!! Daddy!!” Logan knew he lost when his dad’s arms began to hug him from behind, not being bothered for how much he squirmed as his back was gently pressed on Patton’s chest, fingers worming their way under his shirt. “No, daddy! No! Not fair! Nohohohot fahaha!! Pahahahapa!!”

Janus was quick to follow, sitting on the couch and delivering a noisy raspberry on the boy’s neck, happily hearing his laughter get louder in a mix of crackles and squeals. Patton added to his attack butterfly kisses behind his ticklish ears, each one accompanied by an exaggerated ‘Mwua!’

“Mwua! Mwua!!” He nibbled a bit the tickle spot, conquering belly laughter from his sweet revenge, managing to whisper quietly enough so only his baby heard their future plan. “We will get Papa right before the dinner, okay Logie-bear? Mwua! Mwua!”

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

Text

Love Isn’t Always On Part Thirty Nine

Previous Part| Next Part | Masterlist Notes: Not Beta-Read. Just a quick note! I’m starting school this week (aaaahhhhhhhh) so going forward I’m going to try and keep my posts as consistent as possible, but yeah. Just a heads up. I hope everyone’s doing well :) Warnings: None Summary: “... Your mom’s name was Sarah... You used to wear newspapers in your shoes... And you...”

The throbbing in my head had moved from between my temples to the base of my skull. It felt like it was pounding so hard my teeth were chattering with it. I heard ringing in my ears, then the buzzing of helicopters overhead. I groaned quietly as I opened my eyes, looking around the dingy warehouse I found myself in.

“Hey-- Hey, careful,” Steve was kneeling by my side in seconds, speaking softly, cupping my chin to keep my head from tilting, “Don’t move too fast.”

“Where are we?” I asked softly.

"We’re laying low for the time being.” “Sam alright?”

“He’s fine--”

“And you--”

“I’m in one piece, sweetheart, just hold still--”

“Where’s Bucky?” I asked, glancing around.

“He’s... In there. We’ve got his arm in a vice until we know what we’re dealing with.” The unease in Steve’s face told me he didn’t like telling me that as much as I hated hearing it, but I understood. I nodded a little bit, sighing.

“Help me up,” I said, holding a hand out to Steve. “You sure?” Steve frowned, straightening, “You don’t have to--”

“I’m not made of porcelain, Rogers, just gimme a hand.”

Steve did as I requested, pulling me off of the floor. I rested a hand on his chest to steady myself, wincing as I rolled my shoulders.

“Don’t push it,” Steve mumbled. I glanced up at him, a warning in my look, and he shook his head.

“Don’t,” He repeated more softly, “You scared the hell out of me.” I sighed, giving his hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. Steve nodded, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my head.

“Cap!” We turned as Sam’s voice rang out across the empty garage. I followed Steve deeper inside, slowing when I saw Bucky hunched and restrained in the middle of the room.

“... Steve,” Bucky greeted.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?”

Bucky took a moment to reflect on that, but there was no bitterness there, no rage. Just calm resignation.

“... Your mom’s name was Sarah... You used to wear newspapers in your shoes... And you...” His lips had turned up into a smile as he looked from Steve to me; I was taken aback, almost. I needed a moment to reconcile this smile and ease with the man that had come after me with such ruthlessness. “You worked at Harper, Cheswick, and Lowe... Steve sketched you the first time you came over for dinner. I made ma’s sauce.” I nodded, swallowing thickly. “That’s right, Buck,” I murmured. “Can’t read that in a museum,” Steve smiled.

“Just like that we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam asked, eyes darting between us. “What did I do?” Bucky asked, fear edging into his voice. “Enough,” Steve passed it off. If we went into it all now, Bucky would do nothing but beat himself up about it. “Oh, God, I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words,” Bucky mumbled. “Who was he?” I asked. “I don’t know,” Bucky said honestly. “People are dead,” Steve stressed. “Steve--” I hissed as Bucky’s head fell forward in shame; Steve pressed on: “The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know’.” Bucky was quiet for a few moments before he lifted his head again, brow furrowed. “...He -- He wanted to know about Siberia... Where I was kept... He wanted to know exactly where.” “Why would he need to know that?” I asked. The look Bucky fixed us with was almost cruel in its regret. “Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier.” It took us all a moment to let that soak in. “Look, we know it’s him, can we just,” I waved in the direction of the vice, “Can we get him out of that thing, please?” Sam shot Steve a look before they both stepped forward. The mechanism was unlocked with a few hydraulic whirs that brought the ringing in my ears back. I winced a little, turning my head away. I almost wanted to hear the helicopters again. Once Bucky was out of the vice, Steve and Sam both stepped back, giving him some space. “I looked through those files,” I started, drawing us back to the matter at hand, “there was nothing about multiple Winter Soldiers anywhere.” “There wouldn’t be,” Bucky shook his head. “Who were they?” Steve asked. "Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum.” “They all turn out like you?” Sam asked, not even bothering to hide the slight sarcasm that seeped into his voice. "Worse,” Was Bucky’s flat answer. "The doctor, could he control them?” Steve frowned. “Enough,” Bucky conceded. "Said he wanted to see an empire fall,” Steve added.

“With these guys he could do it. They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize, They can take a whole country down in one night. You'd never see them coming,” Bucky admitted.

Sam gripped my arm, steering me closer to Steve and turning me away from Bucky. “This would have been a lot easier a week ago,” He murmured. “If we call Tony...,” Steve offered, but Sam waved it off. “No, he won’t believe us.” “Even if he did,” I offered. Sam nodded. “Who knows if the Accords would let him help.” “We’re on our own,” Steve surmised. Sam considered this for a few seconds. “Maybe not. I know a guy.” -- As Sam left to make his call, I edged closer to Bucky. I sat on the floor in front of him, smiling a bit as he met my eyes. “How are you here?” He asked softly. “The answer to that question has a lot of moving parts,” I laughed a little, ignoring the amplified throbbing in my head as I did, “Ones that we don’t have time to go into right now.” Bucky hesitated before he reached out with his human hand, running his finger along my cheek. I leaned into the light touch, then turned my head, brushing my lips over the pad of his fingertip. Bucky smiled a little bit, and I felt my own smile widened. Even after all this time, that look had butterflies swirling around in my stomach. My eyes drifted down his face, over his neck where I spied a chain peaking from the under his shirt. I reached up, keeping my eyes on his the entire time. When he didn’t stop me, I slipped a finger under the chain, lifting it from under his shirt and smoothing over the engraving. “What’s that?” Steve asked, drifting closer. “It’s your ma’s locket,” I said, keeping my eyes on Bucky, “I gave it to ‘im when he brought you to the riverbank.” Bucky looked from me to Steve, eyes soft and imploring. “Steve...What happened back there--” “That wasn’t you,” Steve shook his head. Bucky looked set to argue, but he pressed his lips together instead, lowering his eyes to his lap instead. I let go of the locket, resting my hand on his knee. “We’re going to get out of this,” I promised, “And when we do, we’re going to find a way to undo what HYDRA programmed.” “What if it can’t be undone?” Bucky’s voice was small, tired. I took his metal hand into mine, intertwining our fingers. “We’ll find a way, Buck. We always do.” Tag list: @gloryevans @redryderdesigns @winter-scolder @aactuaaltraash @secretagentben @staplerrrr @elliee1497 @adayinmymeadow @allonszassbutt @mannls @witch-of-letters @niallssweetheart22 @uneniffler @rinthehufflepuff @panic-angel3314 @firstangeldragonranch @kaetastic @mcuwillbethedeathofme @skeletoresinthebasement @i-dont-know-what-im-doing-yay @kkaos15 @iamnotoverlyfondofwhatfollows @bassclarinety @tomshelbystits @rvgrsbrns @marvelmenarebeautiful @tenaciousperfectionunknown @intricate-melody @stuffandstuff-stuff @fanfuckingtastic04 @messybunnyartist @anescapefromtheworld @shesa-riott @bihoeofmanyfandoms

#stucky #stucky x reader #stucky x you #Steve Rogers #steve x bucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes Imagine #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers Imagine #Love Isn't Always on Time

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innocentbi-stander · 4 years

Note

just stumbled across your blog in my conquest to consume all feral and bamf Jaskier content within 24 hours, and i read your headcanons for necromancer Jaskier and was wondering if you had anymore, or if you had a small ficlet involving some sort of necromancer Jaskier?? (i also saw your demigod Jaskier, where he was a son of Hades, and LOVED IT) if you don't, or aren't into that trope, that's okay. i absolutely love what you've already written. god-tier writing, truly

Hi there! I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my writing! I do have a small little ficlet that I wrote that I posted on ao3 featuring necromancer Jaskier, I’ll link it below! However I’m also never above writing more necromancer Jaskier content, so here you are:

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25272997

______________

Sometimes Jaskier cursed the day Death had made a pact with his unborn soul, tying him to the immortal life of a necromancer and all of the bizarre powers that came with it.

Today was not one of those days.

Because when you’ve been locked in a cage in the depths of some decrepit castle after being ambushed on the road with your witcher boyfriend and badass witch friend, those powers really come in handy.

The bard pulled himself up into a sitting position on the cold stone floor, taking a look at his surroundings.

He was clearly in the dungeon of a long forgotten keep, by the look of the worn stone walls and rusted bars. The room was dark, and shadows flickered in the light of the few torches along the wall.

Jaskier cursed to himself as he felt the ache of his head, where he had been knocked unconscious during the attack.

The attack. The attack on the path that he had most certainly not been alone for.

A look around the cells confirmed the location of Geralt and Yennefer, each located in their own cells across the room. Clearly their attackers had deemed them the more worthy threat, as Geralt was weighed down in chains and Yennefer sported her own pair of silver cuffs decorated in runes. Magic suppressants.

Jaskier scoffed. They hadn’t even bothered to use rope to bind his arms, too confident that the supposedly human bard would be little more than a nuisance. It was their mistake.

The pounding of his head moved into the background of his thoughts, and Jaskier became increasingly aware of a pain in his stomach. His fingers that caressed the area came away covered in blood. Shit.

Flashes of memory reminded him of the man who had run him through with his sword when one hit to the skull hadn’t stopped him from fighting back. On any other human this wound would have been fatal. For Jaskier, it meant a bothersome hole through his torso for a few days, and a very fussy witcher poking at his bandages and offering bowl and bowl of soup.

Yay necromancy powers.

The bard lazily scanned the inside of his cell, looking for anything that might aid them in their mistake. Not that he necessarily needed any assistance, but Jaskier wasn’t fond of revealing the true depths of his powers to anyone, much less some low budget crew of hired bandits. He preferred to keep his abilities known to the few, better to be underestimated than overtaken.

He spared a glance over to the corner where Geralt and Yennefer lay. Jaskier sighed, a long and bothersome sound. For such a great witcher and even mightier witch couldn’t they wake up a little bit faster? He’d prefer being able to break them out when they could walk on their own, Jaskier didn’t think he could haul either of them back to their campsite.

As if on cue a small moan sounded from the other side of the dungeon.

Jaskier glanced up to meet violet eyes blinking at him.

“Ah, Yennefer, welcome to the land of the living! Or should I say ‘land of the living, also occupied by me’?”

“Jaskier?” Yennefer’s brow furrowed, “What happened?”

“It appears as if we were attacked by bandits on the way back to the campsite, and not even clever ones at that. Hired men. Probably from that lordling Geralt and I pissed off a contract back. He seemed like the type for stupid baseless vengence.” Yennefer sat up, pulling herself to her feet to pace her cell. She jangled the cuffs on her wrists.

“Magic resistant cuffs. They must have been fairly well informed.” Jaskier laughed.

“Not well informed enough it seems. They haven’t bound me at all.” He flashed his unbound arms at her along with a smirk. A stupid mistake really, he had forgotten the blood that streaked his hands and forearms from his middle. Maybe Yen wouldn’t see.

Yennefer, clever witch that she is, noticed immediately. She crossed to the front of her cell, narrowing her eyes at him through the darkness.

“Jaskier, are you hurt?”

“......no.”

The look on Yennefer’s face had killed better men than he.

“We’ve talked about not covering up injuries to look braver. That includes you too.” Jaskier had a will as strong as a limp noodle when it came to his witcher and his witcher. So he fessed up immediately.

“One of the men may have poked me a little with his sword when they nabbed us on the road.”

“Jaskier”

“Fine, he ran me through like he was intending to make the most musically inclined shish kebob known to mankind. Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Are you still bleeding?”

Jaskier sucked in a breath as he peeled up his blood-soaked shirt. Even though he wasn’t technically dying, that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He winced at the blood running down his stomach in little rivulets.

“Yeah, it’s still bleeding a little.” Yennefer cursed.

“Fuck. We need to get out of here as soon as possible or you’re going to have to end up taking one of my blood replenishing potions again.”

Jaskier resolved to leave immediately. Those potions were fucking disgusting. Luckily, Geralt seemed to sense the urgency and chose that moment to reawaken.

“The fuck?” Geralt threw himself to his feet at the ready as quick as one wrapped in chains possibly could. Yennefer clapped her hands together, drawing his attention to her.

“Fantastic Geralt, you’re finally up. It appears we’ve been kidnapped, you’re covered in chains, I’ve got magic suppressing cuffs, and Jaskier’s been run through with another man’s steel.”

Nothing got Geralt furious quicker than hearing of harm done to his bard.

“Jaskier?” The witcher pressed himself against the bars of his cell, eyes searching to meet Jaskier’s own. He raised his arm in an awkward wave, trying not to flinch at the steadily increasing pain.

“Hello Geralt. Lovely day to get stabbed, isn’t it?” Geralt wasn’t amused.

“Are you okay?’

“I’ll be better as soon as we get the fuck out of this awful, disgusting dungeon. I feel like I’m going to catch a disease just from brushing up the wall in here. Now how about I get us the hell out of here?”

The look on Geralt and Yennefer’s faces was one of intense worry as they watched Jaskier heave himself to his feet, almost gagging at the pain that flared throughout his stomach. Geralt barely stopped himself from reaching out to assist him, realizing that he’d never be able to help through the iron bars between them.

“You don’t have to Jaskier. You’re hurt, you need the energy to heal, not drain it summoning the undead. We can find another way.” Jaskier laughed.

“Another way? You’re covered in chains and Yen’s locked off from her magic. I can get us out of here, and then take a nice long nap.”

He met Geralt and Yennefer’s eyes, waiting for each of them to nod their assent before his next actions.

The bard held out a hand in front of him, closing his eyes and letting his subconscious drag down into the earth below. He could feel his power begin to condense in his fingertips, creating a soft blue glow. His power sent a call out to the underworld, and a smile crossed his face when he felt something answer.

Jaskier opened his eyes to see a skeleton pulling itself from the earth in front of his cell. As soon as it stood in front of him, it swept into a low bow and hissed words in a language foreign to all living beings except those with a connection to Death.

Masterrrrrrrrr……..

Jaskier grinned.

“Hello there! As you can see, we’re in a little bit of a predicament, if you wouldn’t mind it would be great if you could release us?”

The skeleton spared no second thought before enacting Jaskier’s wishes, ripping open the bars of his cell like they were made of paper, and proceeding to do the same for Yen and Geralt and their bonds.

Just as the skeleton was finishing up with Geralt’s chains, a troop of bandits swarmed into the dungeon, a man dressed in red at the head.

He was no doubt the leader of the crew, and was understandably shocked to see all of his prisoners standing free.

“I hate to interrupt the part of this whole ordeal where you’ve undoubtedly come down here to tell us all about your evil plan of capturing us, who hired you, and what’s going to become of us, but I’m afraid we simply must go. Places to be, and all that. Luckily you won’t have to go explaining to the lordling who hired you why we’ve gone missing, because you’ll be a little preoccupied dealing with some of my dear friends!” Jaskier performed a lazy wave of his hand, his fingertips resuming the familiar glowing blue hue. The bandit seemed to be having trouble processing what exactly was going on.

“What-how,” he sputtered, but was interrupted by the screams of his men in the halls behind him. The clickity clack of bone on the stone floors brought a smile to Jaskier’s face, and the tears of flesh and ligaments being torn away filled the dungeon. The men spun around, attention taken by the new imminent threat, swords raising in shaking hands. Too easy.

Jaskier felt a hand tug on his shoulder, and was pulled through a door into a forgotten corridor after Yen and Geralt. They traipsed down hallway after hallway, collecting Jaskier’s lute and Geralt’s confiscated swords.

After a few minutes Jaskier’s steps became less steady, and his knees began to feel more like jelly. The third time the bard had to grab the wall for support Geralt lifted him into his arms seamlessly, making sure he was comfortable before ambling on.

It wasn’t long until they reached sunlight, but by then the world had already begun to go hazy for Jaskier. He had used up too much of his energy summoning the undead and he had lost too much blood.

Jaskier allowed the gentle rocking of Geralt’s pace to lull him to sleep, his eyelids drifting shut against the midday sun. He knew that when he woke he would be safe and the campsite, protected in his lover’s arms and soon to be met with his overbearing fussing. There would be a warm bowl of stew, a roaring fire, and plenty of blankets. There would be laughter as Yennefer told the tale of the most recent fool who had dared to cross her, and Geralt would bury his face in Jaskier’s hair to disguise his amused smile. It would be home.

Jaskier closed his eyes, and allowed himself to dream.

___________

Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to send more prompts!

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

Necessary Calibrations

Inspired by art on Twitter that can be found HERE

Summary: Pathfinder asks Ramya to make him a special little mod, and well, how can she refuse such a cute bot? On one condition, of course. She gets to be the one who gives him a test spin. Or!!!! In which Ramya rides the life out of Pathfinder and effectively makes him glitch out into a mess.

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog but makes my day :D

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Pathfinder/Rampart

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, mutual pining, uhhhh pretty tame except for overstimulation and wire play?

Words: 2.7k

_________

Modding was her thing.

And Pathfinder was her mate.

Put the two together with a lovely, tall robot shyly asking for a certain modification and how could Ramya refuse? Truthfully, she would have done it without the sweetness of him offering to buy her pizza. Or of the screen on his chest lighting up with a pink emoji with hearts and two index fingers pressed together. But it certainly did ease the small bit of nerves she had about pausing her current project.

He wanted something to get off? Sure, she’d give him something to get off. “But on one condition,” She had told him, flipping up her face shield and wiping at grease on her cheek as she leans back on her desk, gesturing at him with her shut off welding torch. “I get to take you for your first ride. What better way than to see if I’ve got it all calibrated?”

~Rest under the cut~

The joy on his screen had been rather heartwarming. His legs had bounced from one to the other, his hands clapping and the screen flashing yellow with bright joy. “Of course, friend! I wouldn’t think of anyone else I’d like to be ‘taken for a spin’ by!” And like the good boy he was, he’d leaned down, allowing Ramya to pat his ‘cheek’ fondly before shooing him on his way with a reminder he owed her pizza.

Perhaps calling out to his retreating form ‘With extra sausage!’ went right over his head, but it made her laugh so that’s what really counted.

Simulacrums had a line of attachable toys that had fancy little names for them. Ramya would disagree that saying ‘phallus module’ or ‘Vaginal attachment’ was anything horny sounding- she preferred ‘Homewrecker module’ and ‘Finger blaster 9000’ but okay. She wasn’t the one coming up with the brand names, just hunting for any of use ones. Turns out the compound had a few, and she couldn’t help but wonder who could have ordered these.

So, the murder bot was getting it on, ey? Probably with his own left hand and fat tears. Poor sod.

Modifying either to be able to be wired for a MRVN unit isn’t difficult- well, as long as your name is Ramya Parekh, she humbly thinks to herself. The wiring for Pathfinder’s unit isn’t on any blueprints, so she has to call him in during it to do a fitting. Mostly with the poor bot lying on his back and legs spread while she unhooked the paneling at his front. Whoever made him wanted to make sure he could have these attachments, the wiring was dead similar to a simulacrum’s, just needed a bit more adjustments.

It takes maybe three days to complete it, and each day Pathfinder comes trotting in with a pizza in hand and a bounce in his step with excitement written all over his little screen. Normally, Ramya doesn’t get the pleasure of seeing someone come in to check out the work, let alone stay with her. The entire time he expresses his excitement, bouncing around her and well...Ramya can’t say she hates the company.

When the project is complete, Pathfinder is lain out on the ground on a blanket she has folded for him. Damned bot was too tall to put up on a table. Ramya is sat between his legs, carefully clicking the module into place and checking by his hip where a hidden panel was to ensure everything was in place. “Alright, Path, you should see somethin’ about connection establishment. Hit that green button for me, will ya?”

“Can do!” He responds as chipper as ever, hands folded politely at his waist with his screen going from its classic emoji to a bright green screen showing ‘Download’ on the front. Ramya pats his leg affectionately, sitting back between his thighs as she tosses her shirt and sports bra clean over her head as casual as ever.

What? Could you blame a girl for being excited to hitch a ride on a heavily sensitive bot? Not to mention she made that cock gorgeous, if she does say so herself. The cock itself was a deep blue to match his paintjob, ribbed and made of a heavy silicone to feel every bit like a hard cock. The head was smoothed into the shape of it, all the same girth and about a good seven inches long with a girth thick enough she couldn’t quite circle her fingers around it. It was to die for, really, even if it was beautiful in its simplicity.

A slit at the head area would allow his lubrication reserves to act as cum as well. She’d opted to give him options, flavored lubricants to more natural ones. Pathfinder had gleefully picked up the white lubricant, excited it looked like ‘real cum!’ all in that cheery little tone of his as Ramya had fit it within that panel for him.

“Oh!” Pathfinder exclaims suddenly, drawing Ramya’s attention to him as she kicks herself out of her overalls. Little LED nodes on the side of the cock light up a soft pink, some ‘pre-cum’ leaking out of the tip and letting her know he’s all good to go with the bright ‘100%!’ on his screen.

“Alright, mate, before we get you all sorted out, how about you get me all sorted out? Would hate to make you bust too soon.” Ramya teases, patting his thigh and moving to take his spot as Pathfinder moves with her. She doesn’t expect Pathfinder to be so enthusiastic about foreplay, but damn if he doesn’t go ‘Woohoo!’ as he sits up to take his spot between her thighs.

His hands are cooler as they press at her strong thighs, pressing them apart to expose the dark hair between her thighs and undoubtedly how wet she is, or how her large clit peeks from her lower lips. Ramya wasn’t embarrassed at what she had, she knew she was hot. All her piercings exposed across her body including the one on her clit. Pathfinder seems enamored with them, tracing the dermals on her hips, up to the one on her navel then up to her breasts where he cups them and smooths his thumbs across them. A sigh falls from her lips, tossing her head back with a smile lingering on her lips. “You’ve done this before, mate?”

“Yes!” He practically vibrates with joy with his voice module reflecting the tone. His screen is hot pink with a heart emoji on the front drooling with a dazed expression. Flattering... “I just have not had the right attachment to do anything besides touch- but! I don’t mind. Especially when they’re as pretty as you!” It’s a coy flirt, one that makes Ramya laugh with her head throwing back to hide a flush on her cheeks. Falling into a soft gasp when he pinches both her nipples, rolling the buds until her hips press upwards into nothing.

“Less talking more stretching, yeah?” It’s probably the last full sentence she’ll get out for the rest of foreplay. Pathfinder’s letting out that little laugh he does, happily grabbing one of the set aside lubricant bottles to coat his fingers.

Ramya learns rather quickly he wasn’t in the slightest bit kidding about having done this before, not when she’s got two fingers curling inside of her and pounding into her with his other hand pressing on her mound. Using his index and middle to lightly jerk off her clit and massage it, making her cum multiple times all whilst she arches off the blanket and swears the entire time.

Again, and again, he wrings out her orgasms. Twisting his fingers inwards and letting her hump up against his palm with her fingers twisting into the blankets when three fingers now spread inside her. All while the bastard hums a happy little tone to himself, clearly leaking his own lubricant reserves onto himself in arousal.

A third orgasm hits her with Ramya’s own hips humping against his hand and practically riding his fingers shamelessly with her back arched and her legs trembling. Her head falls back with a loud cry as Pathfinder keeps slamming into that same spot, until she’s twitching and grabbing his wrist with a shaky, almost whiny sound. “Uncle-- okay, uncle, uncle —P-Path!”

His name catches his attention, his hand pausing and sliding out of her. ”Oh! Are you alright, friend?” His screen is blue, the emoji yellow and looking alarmed up until Ramya waves a loose hand at him, panting heavily as her other hand grabs her own hair to keep herself grounded.

“Yes, yes, yes- don't look at me like that, I’m fine. Just need a minute. Supposed to be calibrating you, mate, not having you rail my brains out.” Ramya laughs out breathily, wiping sweat from her brow as she sits up shakily on one arm. Helped up by Pathfinder gently resting a hand on her lower back and making tingles run up her spine. Hm. Feelings. Gross. Didn’t need those.

Ever so softly Pathfinder gently winds his arms around her, bringing her head to his screen and pulling her ponytail free. Ramya’s about to complain, but when his fingers are running through her hair and soothing where her hair had been tugged at, well, can’t really complain. Instead, Ramya sighs hard, pressing her cheek to his screen and winding her arms back around his waist to lean into his side. “Alright ya big softie, you win your cuddling this time.”

“Yay! Go me!”

Ramya snorts, patting the plating of his thigh fondly and hearing the soft hum of static under her ear to signal his screen changing. She can only imagine his own little imagery on the screen with the flashing ‘go me’ across it. Silly bot.

She can’t help the soft sigh from her lips when his hand tucks strands behind her pierced ear, cursing herself mentally for the fluttering in her chest. Instead, she presses at him, urging Pathfinder to lie down on the blanket in her stead just so she can get a good look at him to stop these damn fluttering feelings in her chest. Perhaps not the best course of action when she’s biting her bottom lip and trying not to smile.

Pathfinder looked a mess without even being touched yet. His screen is hot pink now, a pastel pink emoji on the front with star eyes and his hands folded politely just under his screen. His legs bounce from one to the other as if he would when standing and excited, his cock standing to attention and drooling the white lubricant onto his own waist plating.

A quick run of two of her fingers along its ribbed texture and his hips jerking upwards immediately gives her a hint already of how well it was attached. Ramya can’t help herself, wrapping her fingers around and giving two quick strokes from base to tip. Immediately, Pathfinder lets out this high whining sound littered with static in his vocal module, his head turning to the side and an arm going over his optic as if embarrassed. “O-oh! That feels great!”

“Don’t need the confidence boost, mate, just lookin’ to see if it’s working is all. Of course it is, though, I modified it after all.”

“A-and it’s always great if it has ‘Rampart’ on it!” He agrees in that ever so chipper tone, even if it does waver and shake when her thumb slides over the slit of his ribbed cock. Her grin is lopsided, soft and holding back the fondness in her heart.

“Ya damn right it is. Now,” She pauses then, moving on top of him to straddle his waist. Letting her weight settle there, fingers wrapped around his cock to keep him sat upright. “Shall we give you a proper go?”

With how well Pathfinder had stretched her out, sliding down onto him is like a dream. Ramya is a bit overstimulated from earlier still, a small quiver and tightness to her thighs. Pathfinder lets out this surprised ‘oh!’ as she slides onto his girth, his hands finding purchase on her thighs and squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. His screen flashes hot pink, a wave of glitches shooting across it in a wave as the emoji flickers back and forth from drooling with hearts to having its eyes rolling back and tongue lolling out.

“Atta boy. Feelin ’ alright?” Ramya practically croons out, rolling her hips against his just to watch his screen glitch again and his voice module shake with a moan in reply full of static. ”I’ll take that as an enthusiastic yes!”

One hand rests lightly on his screen to keep her balance, splaying her fingers to make sure to monitor it if his ‘expression’ went sour. As soon as her hips start bouncing, Pathfinder’s voice module comes out with mostly static and glitching of his moans, his head turning to the side and his hands shaking on her thighs. Small sounds leave Ramya’s own lips, watching how well behaved he is under her and just how sensitive this poor bot was. Sheesh, remind her to help him turn that down--

Or well...maybe he could leave it up that high for now. She’d love to be able to do a bit more calibrations on him later.

“R-Ra— aaaa -mm-y- ya- ” His poor voice glitches and shakes, practically jittering when she starts bouncing her hips on him. She mimics the sound with a low moan, using her hand not balancing on his screen to reach up towards his neck, finding the exposed wiring at where his shoulder meets neck and quirking her fingers inside and lightly tugging.

Pathfinder immediately starts shaking, his legs kicking underneath himself until he can gain purchase and trying to hold Ramya still. She can’t help the grin spreading across her face, slamming her hips down harder and focusing more on him. His screen is a glitched mess of rainbows, flashing an emoji with its eyes rolled back and tongue lolled out and doing two peace signs. She’d ask later where he got that one and for what purpose.

“R-Ramya! My systems a-are overloading!” Poor sod sounds like he could cry if he had the tear ducts to. Pathfinder’s hands slide up along her waist, squeezing as a laugh falls from Ramya’s lips breathlessly.

“Dope. Ya gonna cum for me, baby boy? Let’s see it." She sighs out, resting both hands on his glitching screen as his voice dissolves into static when her hips pick up the pace. Pathfinder is cumming not long after, hands shaking on her waist, screen a glitching mess and the only sounds she can make out from him sounding like cut off, distant audio of him crying and whining out. His lubricant reserves feel like cum inside of her, thick and warm and bring Ramya to her own fourth orgasm. Weak and quieter than the others but still making her sigh out in satisfaction.

By the time her hips settle, he’s still shaking and overheating. Concerned, Ramya’s brows knit, stroking a hand over his optic’s cheek and yelping in surprise when suddenly his grapple comes shooting out to the side, hooking into her work bench and grounding him.

Loud laughter flies from her lips as Ramya rests on his cock, one hand covering over her mouth to muffle the snorts falling from her lips as Pathfinder’s screen starts to settle. His overload seems to reboot his systems, his screen flashing pastel blue with a yellow emoji blushing and looking surprised. “Oh dear! I did not mean to do that.”

“Ey, no sweat, Path. Got a laugh outta me. Let’s get you cleaned up and check out the data we collected, yeah?” Ramya laughs faintly throughout speaking, going to move off his lap but quickly stopped by his hands on her waist. Much gentler as he makes a soft, sad sound.

“Boo! Do you think we could cuddle a little before you get up?”

“You want MORE cuddling?! Didn’t I give you cuddles not fifteen minutes ago? You’re gonna get spoiled at this rate, mate.”

Immediately, his screen flashes to a puppy dog eye emoji with begging hands. Ramya groans, rolling her eyes dramatically as she flops down on top of him instead. Instantly hearing the ‘yay!!!’ erupting from him as his arms wrap around her and her cheek lies on his warm screen.

Damn bot was going to be the death of her.

Seems like her weak spot would always be machines, hm?

#Rampfinder #Pathfinder x Rampart #Rampart #Pathfinder #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #princess writing

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Long Way From Home: Chapter 6

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott, Tracy Family

There’s a lot in this chapter - more compare and contrast, yay! - but the bit I want to mention specifically is one of the major society differences between TOS and TAG, which stems entirely from the 50 years between writing - sexism. I’ve noticed that a lot of TOS-based fics tend to shift away from or gloss over that, because that’s just how it was in the 60s when TOS was written and there’s no need to honour it (past the Alan/Tin-Tin spats) in modern fanfic.

Normally, I’d agree, but as already mentioned, I’m playing compare and contrast, and quite frankly the sexism was too tempting to pass up. Now, that does not mean we’ll have City of Fire-esque “crazy woman driver” in the fic because that was writer-sexism, not in-universe, and I’m not about that. Perceptions of women as delicate flowers who are supposed to be seen and not heard by the male [TOS] cast, though? We are definitely playing with that, so consider this a warning. I could go into an entire essay on this, but you’re not here for that, you’re here to see it all through TAG!Scott’s eyes, so let’s let him tell the tale, shall we?

<<<Chapter 5

Scott was on the slippery slope towards a fourth loss – with no wins – when the house trembled slightly. The unmistakable roar of a jet engine in close proximity told him what the cause of it was, and he didn’t need Other-Gordon to confirm it as Thunderbird One. She might not be his Thunderbird One, and her engine might make a different noise, no doubt due to different technology, but Scott had always had an ear for plane engines. Having already heard it once, the cry of this universe’s Thunderbird One was instantly recognisable.

“Do you want to finish up first or call it here?” Other-Gordon asked, either correctly assuming that Scott had every intention of seeing his counterpart now he was back, or simply wanting to attend the debrief himself.

“How long do post-flight checks take here?” he replied, eyeing the board with a brain only half concentrating on the game now and trying to work out if he could do anything other than be defeated before Other-Scott finished said checks and emerged from the hangar.

“Scott’ll be out in five minutes, assuming nothing went wrong on the mission,” Other-Gordon told him, glancing down at his watch. “They weren’t gone long, so it probably all went smoothly.”

“Well I’m not going to get this turned around in five minutes,” he sighed, gesturing at the board, “so we might as well call it.” Other-Gordon laughed.

“You’re right about that,” he agreed. “You’re only two moves away from defeat anyway.” Scott could see that, and knocked his King over to save himself the bother. Other-Gordon laughed again, and swept the pieces up, packing them away before standing. “Let’s see what my brothers had to deal with this time,” he commented, with barely a hint of bitterness to betray the fact he’d have liked to be on it rather than stuck at home waiting. Scott pulled himself up out of the comfortable chair he’d got used to sitting in for the past couple of hours.

“Lead the way.”

They got as far as the door before Other-Gordon stopped, looking up at him with a serious expression he hadn’t seen on his face since before they started playing chess.

“Before we do,” he started; Scott instinctively straightened at the tone. “Knowing you – well, Scott, and assuming it’s something else you two share – you’re no doubt going to be analysing and second-guessing everything the fellas did out on the rescue. Do me a favour and keep it to yourself.”

Scott blinked. “What?”

Other-Gordon didn’t budge, arms crossed. “Your universe and ours have different technology; we’ve all realised that. It’s likely that means you’d make different calls to us, based on what you’d have at your disposal if you were with your own International Rescue. John and Brains, hell maybe Scott and Virgil, too, will be curious at the differences, but save it until you’re asked. The debrief isn’t a place for hypotheticals based on other-universe technology and I doubt you’d appreciate it if roles were reversed and it was our Scott butting in on your debriefs.”

Scott sighed. “You have a point,” he admitted. Keeping his mouth shut when he had an opinion was not something he was particularly well-practiced in, but Other-Gordon was right. He’d be fuming if someone who knew nothing about International Rescue’s capabilities interrupted his own debriefs. The idea that he didn’t know International Rescue’s capabilities rankled, but he remembered Other-John’s rundown of the situation earlier and how many terms had been unfamiliar to him. Hell, they even had different names for something as fundamental as Thunderbird Two’s modules. He sighed again, running a hand down his face, to a raised eyebrow from Other-Gordon.

“Everything alright?” the other man asked, and he shrugged.

“You do realise I’m not used to not being in charge?” he asked rhetorically, prompting a laugh from the ginger.

“I had noticed,” he commented dryly. “Dad’s still going to have a fit if you walk in looking like that, and Scott’s going to want to know what you think you’re doing with his shirt.”

“I’m wearing it,” Scott shrugged.

“Badly,” Other-Gordon retorted, turning away and opening the door, leading the way back towards the lounge – and Not-Dad. Scott tried not to think about the fact he’d soon be in the older man’s presence again.

“It’s more comfortable this way,” he bit back instead, determined to get the last word.

“It looks sloppy.” Other-Gordon clearly didn’t feel like letting him have it.

“Maybe I don’t like looking like a pampered son of a billionaire.” Two could play at that game.

“That’s what you are, so own it.”

“Actually, I’m the billionaire,” Scott pointed out, the one result of Dad’s crash he’d finally found himself comfortable with, if only through necessity and the fact that it was how International Rescue could still operate. “I can look how I want.”

Other-Gordon froze for a fraction of a second before continuing the walk through the villa, a barely-there stumble that told Scott he hadn’t realised that aspect.

“Touché,” he conceded after a moment. “But I don’t think that’ll wash with either of them.” Scott shrugged.

“I stopped caring what other people thought a long time ago,” he pointed out. It was only half a lie – he cared about the opinions of his brothers and closest friends. He didn’t care about the rest of the world’s opinions.

Or another universe’s.

Other-Gordon chuckled again, jogging up the stairs with Scott hot on his heels before heading for the lounge. Scott paused as they crossed the threshold, seeing Tin-Tin already there, but he refused to baulk. Not-Dad was sat behind the desk, looking every inch the man in charge, and he dragged his feet into the room, finding a seat on the edge of the depressed circle and sprawling out on it as though he was at home.

As it happened, his entrance was timed perfectly. Just as Not-Dad caught sight of him, face drawing into a look of disapproval and mouth opening to dish it out in what would no doubt be a tongue lashing, the section of wall housing the two lamps swung around, revealing Other-Scott.

“I’m back, Dad,” he greeted, a split second before he, too, caught sight of Scott and his new attire. “Hey, what are you wearing?”

“Unless you’re in the habit of keeping anyone else’s clothes in your closet, your clothes,” Scott shrugged, eyeing what the other man was wearing. Blue rollneck, checkered blue cardigan and dark brown slacks.

Fashion was definitely different in this universe.

“You look disgraceful,” Not-Dad cut in, but he didn’t look over at him. Their voices were different, so as long as he didn’t look at him, the scolding didn’t hurt so much. “Do up that shirt properly.” Scott ignored him, and Other-Gordon’s sing-song I told you so.

Other-Scott was less ignorable, striding up to him and yanking sharply on the sleeve cuffs to unroll them.

“Don’t wreck my clothes,” he complained. “You’ll stretch the sleeves doing that.” Scott rolled his eyes and tugged his arms back. “Dad, someone needs to get him some new clothes; he can’t keep wearing mine.”

“Or the same underpants because he refuses to wear yours,” Other-Gordon cut in.

“Gordon, Tin-Tin’s present!” Not-Dad snapped, although the young woman was tittering quietly and didn’t seem at all mortified. “We’ll deal with the clothing situation once debrief is over. In the meantime, wear my son’s clothes properly, young man.”

Scott tugged at the sleeves, smoothing them out again at Other-Scott’s request but not doing up any buttons.

“Are you always this insolent?” Not-Dad demanded when he realised Scott wasn’t obeying him. “What does it take to get some respect in my own house?”

Hiding his reluctance, Scott turned his head to meet his eyes. Not-Dad’s eyes were still a hard steely grey; both Other-John and Other-Gordon had mentioned that the two of them clashing was inevitable, and Scott could tell that they were right. He should defer to the other man – it was his home, and he was the one in charge of the people that could get him home – but even considering doing so made his heart rebel violently.

He hadn’t protected his family and his father’s legacy for the past eight years by backing down, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“I respect people who earn it,” he said pointedly. “You don’t get a free pass just because you’re rich and powerful; I’ve rescued too many rich and powerful people from their own stupidity for that.” Francois Lemaire came to mind. The reasoning behind birthday parties in the Mariana Trench and flying into a comet’s coma still boggled him.

Not-Dad looked taken aback, as though the idea of earning respect was foreign to him. Or maybe it was the fact that he admittedly looked just like the man’s eldest son, so maybe hearing that from him was a shock to the system.

“What about International Rescue?” the man asked, and Scott shrugged.

“What about it?”

“Does that not get your respect?”

“I can respect what an organisation does without respecting the man behind it,” he pointed out, coolly. “The fact that you’re International Rescue tells me that you’ll do everything you can to get me home, and I respect that.”

“So you don’t respect us,” Not-Dad said flatly, a hint of anger in his tone, and Scott shrugged.

“I don’t know you,” he reminded the room at large. “You’re an alternate universe version of my family, and I’m still working out what that means. I trust you to help me, but respect? I don’t know you well enough for that.”

“He’s got a point, Dad,” Other-Scott said, perching on the arm of the neighbouring chair. The support was unexpected, but welcome. “Just because he looks like me doesn’t mean he is me.”

“You’re pretty similar,” Other-Gordon piped up, and Scott rolled his eyes.

“That’s not what you said earlier,” he reminded him. Other-Gordon simply shrugged.

“I’m working with more information now.”

“What information?” Not-Dad demanded, and Scott sent the ginger a glare, realising too late that the younger man had never agreed not to share their conversation in the hangar. Other-Gordon was too sharp for his liking. Was his Gordon going to end up that difficult to wrangle in four years, or was it just because despite appearances he wasn’t Other-Gordon’s brother?

“I spent the last three hours playing chess against him,” Other-Gordon informed the room. To his surprise, Other-Scott laughed.

“You couldn’t beat him either? Gordon’s a demon when it comes to chess.”

“I can’t say I expected to win,” Scott admitted. “That’s a fact in both universes.” Other-Gordon preened, and Not-Dad sat back in his desk chair, clearly deciding to let them talk without his intervention.

That act felt a little bit more like Dad, and Scott looked away, the never-healed hole in his heart throbbing painfully. Other-Gordon sent him a sharp look, but said nothing. Other-Scott watched the silent exchange with confusion; Scott didn’t plan on enlightening him, even if he was probably drawing his own conclusions.

Scott looked around as Other-Gordon carried the conversation, talking a mile a minute about chess with – or rather, at – his eldest brother, who slumped off of the arm of the chair he was perching on to sit in it properly. Scott could relate to the post-mission exhaustion, and felt a stab of jealousy that as soon as debrief was over, Other-Scott didn’t have to worry about it anymore. Not-Dad would take it all from there.

No wonder he wasn’t going grey yet.

The photos on the wall had changed. Gone were the five relaxing young men, lounging around in their civvies. Instead, there were photos of the same five young men all wearing IR blue and coloured sashes, posed just like their own portraits at home. He couldn’t believe they still wore those damn hats, then again, that was something he’d scrapped after Dad’s crash. Not-Dad clearly liked the things enough to still keep them, although he wondered if they really wore them all the time.

Their baldrics, although they looked more like sashes than baldrics, matched the colours Other-Scott had rattled off earlier – lilac for Other-John, yellow for Other-Virgil, orange for Other-Gordon and white for Other-Alan. Other-Scott himself had blue, and Scott wondered how much of a say they’d had in their colours. At home, they matched their Thunderbirds, but Thunderbird One here was still the same colour scheme.

“Operation Cover-Up was in effect last time you were in here,” Other-Gordon commented. “If you’re wondering why the pictures are different.” He turned back to look at him and discovered the room was staring at him. Of course they were.

“Operation Cover-Up?” he asked, frowning. “What’s that?”

Other-Scott narrowed his eyes, but it was Not-Dad that replied, frowning back at him in return.

“Surely you have one of your own?” he inquired. “The identity of International Rescue must be kept secret, after all.”

Scott had almost forgotten about that; the first one of Dad’s rules to fly out of the window, not that he’d been able to do anything about it.

“I wish,” he muttered. While having their identities was useful at times, being dogged and recognised at a glance whenever they were out in public – and unable to let visitors onto the island without extensive background checks because otherwise they’d go snooping – was beyond tiring. Even their location wasn’t as hidden as he’d like, especially not now the GDF knew it – Colonel Casey promised it was a high level clearance secret, but that didn’t change the fact there were people in the GDF that knew.

“Are you saying it’s not a secret in your universe?” Not-Dad demanded, and Scott shrugged.

“The world’s not stupid.” He slumped back in his chair, hyper aware that everyone in the room was watching him with varying levels of interest and disbelief. “Billionaire ex-Astronaut Jeff Tracy goes missing the exact same time the Commander of IR does. Two and two makes four. Not even John and Lady P could cover that up.” Especially not with the Hood leaking the information left, right and centre before going underground, as though killing his Dad wasn’t enough damage. “Best we’ve got is that most of the world don’t know where we live.”

“How are you still operating?” Other-Scott asked, beating his father to it by barely a second, judging by Not-Dad’s opened mouth. “Aren’t people trying to steal the technology?”

Scott groaned. “All the damn time. Island’s on permanent lockdown – no-one’s allowed on or off without our security’s approval. The GDF-” Other-John hadn’t known what that was “-the world military suffers us because we’re better at saving people than them and they know it. Our godmother being a Colonel helps a lot.�� He ran a hand over his face again, feeling drained just thinking about the mess he had to deal with daily to keep IR running.

How would they manage without him? Would the GDF force them to shut down, or would John or Virgil step up? How far did Colonel Casey’s reach go; could she still keep them out of trouble with the GDF?

“Scott?” It was Other-Gordon that spoke, but when he pulled his hand away from his face it was Not-Dad he looked at.

“It’s possible to operate when the world knows who you are, but it’s a damn headache.”

“Language!” the man barked. “There are women present.” Scott rolled his eyes, under no illusions that Tin-Tin and Mrs Tracy hadn’t heard worse.

“Gee, so that’s why you’re going grey,” Other-Gordon chipped in, and Scott glowered at him half-heartedly. “And here I was thinking I was going to need to see if Scott was hiding some dye somewhere.”

“Gordon,” Other-Scott growled. The ginger put his hands up.

“Just saying; it seemed suspicious that he’s going grey and you’re not.”

“Why would I be going grey already?” Other-Scott demanded. “I’m thirty.”

“And he’s twenty-seven, so that argument doesn’t hold any water, old chap,” Other-Gordon retorted.

“Wait, what?” All eyes fell on Scott again, and he sent another withering glance Other-Gordon’s way. The ginger wasn’t saying anything he’d explicitly wanted not said, but he was definitely skirting around dangerously close to the edge. “It’s not twenty-sixty-five where you’re from?” Other-Scott continued, and Scott froze.

“Twenty-what?” he asked. That… didn’t make sense. That didn’t make sense at all. He’d be thirty-two in 2065, not thirty. Then again, the age gaps between Virgil, Gordon and Alan were also different between the two universes, so maybe he shouldn’t be surprised.

“I take it that’s a no?” Other-Scott replied, and he shrugged.

“Twenty-sixty.”

“That’s weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Scott groaned. “I need to tell your Brains this stuff but apparently I’m not allowed to disturb him.”

“What ‘stuff’?” Tin-Tin asked, inserting herself in the conversation. “Have you worked anything out?”

“Scott and I were playing spot the difference earlier,” Other-Gordon chipped in. “Seems there’s a few more differences than we thought.”

“Like different dates of birth,” Other-Scott noted. “I was twenty-five in twenty-sixty, not twenty-seven. Is your birthday April fourth?”

Scott nodded, relieved that at least one thing was the same.

“Different age gaps, too,” Other-Gordon pointed out.

“Your brothers are closer in age?” Not-Dad asked. “It can’t be the opposite, or you’d be too young to operate.” Scott winced; the topic was getting too close to areas he didn’t want it, and unlike Other-Gordon, Not-Dad and probably Other-Scott wouldn’t let the matter of Alan’s age drop. “They’re not?” Not-Dad sounded startled, and he realised the wince had given him away. “But-”

He stood up suddenly.

“Let me know when you’re debriefing,” he said, and walked out. Dammit all; he’d said he wouldn’t run away, and he knew he couldn’t keep Alan’s age from Not-Dad and Other-Scott forever, but he wasn’t ready to see the disapproval on Not-Dad’s face. Not when it was so like Dad’s.

“Scott!” It was a woman’s voice – Tin-Tin’s, to be precise, and he reluctantly turned to see the younger woman following him hurriedly. With the topic of ages on his mind, he realised she was probably a similar age to Kayo, not older like the Tracy family seemed to be. Something else that made no sense.

“What is it?” he asked her as she came to a stop in front of her. No-one else emerged from the lounge; whether they were talking about him, or had decided to entrust him to Tin-Tin, he didn’t know.

“I want to hear about these differences,” she said firmly. “Brains is busy with the data he already has, but I’m not.” She put a hand on his arm and directed him towards the stairs.

“What do you mean?” he asked, following her with the reminder that she was this universe’s Kayo stuck in his mind. Just because she didn’t look as dangerous, didn’t mean she wasn’t.

“You recognised my father’s name, but not mine,” she observed. “Let’s start at the beginning; good day, it’s very nice to meet you. My name is Tin-Tin Kyrano and my primary role on the island is as Brains’ assistant.”

That was different, but the words ‘Brains’ assistant’ stuck out like a lifeline. He smiled at her and stuck out his hand. “Good day, and it’s very nice to meet you. The name’s Scott Tracy and in my universe I’m the commander of International Rescue.” She looked at his hand for a moment before grasping it. Her grip was light but firm and he knew his initial impressions had been correct – she was not a woman to be crossed.

If she could help get him home, he had no intentions of crossing her.

“Well, now that we’re introduced,” she smiled, guiding him back towards the infirmary but stopping in front of a different door, pushing it open to reveal a homely sitting area, “perhaps we should talk about those differences Brains needs to know about. Come in; we still have fifteen minutes before Thunderbird Two gets back, and the boys won’t be ready for debrief for another fifteen after that.”

It was only after he entered that he saw the king-sized bed, surrounded with drapes, in an alcove of the room and realised it must be her bedroom.

“Take a seat,” she invited, gesturing to a plush loveseat. “Would you like something to drink?”

“If you have coffee that would be amazing,” he admitted, and she laughed.

“I think the American men on this island would all stop functioning if we didn’t have coffee,” she smiled, heading for a coffee press in the corner of the room. Scott wondered why that was there when the kitchen was just down the hall. “How do you take it?”

“However I can get it,” Scott admitted. “But ideally a splash of milk and a sugar.”

“Just like our Scott,” she commented. “How you men live off so much caffeine, I will never understand. Your blood must be more coffee than blood at this rate.”

Scott smiled dryly. “Something like that.”

“I must confess I’m curious – what am I like in your universe?” she asked as she set the water to boil. “You don’t look at me like you do the boys.”

“Kayo – Tanusha, but we call her Kayo after she put me down in a sparring session – is… different to you,” Scott admitted. “She’s a tomboy, our head of security after Kyrano… left. Grew up with us as a sister, jumps into a fight first chance she gets. I have to hold her back more than all of my brothers combined.”

Kayo would be going ballistic that he vanished right under her nose, even though she hadn’t been on the island at the time. He hoped she wouldn’t follow in Kyrano’s footsteps and vanish after ‘failing’ him. His brothers still needed her, whatever else happened.

Tin-Tin made a noise of surprise. “I assumed she must have been different, but that is very different,” she observed. The kettle whistled, steam pouring out of it, and she decanted the contents into the coffee press. “She gets into fights? Whatever do people think of that?”

“Kayo doesn’t care,” Scott shrugged. “She usually wins them, anyway.”

“That’s not particularly ladylike,” Tin-Tin observed, although she didn’t sound particularly scandalised about it. “Is that common in your universe? You mentioned your godmother’s a Colonel in the military..?”

Scott thought to how Not-Dad had been so strict on language in front of her, and frowned.

“Are women generally treated like they’re made of glass here, or is that just him?” he asked. “Grandma, Kayo and Lady P would have all had something to say if someone specifically cleaned up their language in front of them because they’re female.”

“As a general rule they think we’re delicate flowers, yes,” Tin-Tin confirmed, carrying a tray with two cups on it over to the table. One was clearly his coffee, while the other looked like another herbal tea. “Your attitude is quite refreshing, although when Mr Tracy isn’t around the boys lose the gentlemanly airs a little.”

“When you live with a sister who can kick your ass seven ways to Sunday and a Grandma with a sharp tongue you learn women aren’t made of glass pretty damn quick,” Scott shrugged.

“I suppose you would,” she agreed, pulling out a notebook and pencil. “That seems like quite the incentive, but while you’re here, at least try to pretend you think we’re made of glass.” She winked. “It somewhat ruins the deception if a man sees through it.”

That was a very Lady Penelope response, and Scott made a mental note of that.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he agreed, before looking pointedly at the notebook. “You had questions?”

“Those differences Gordon alluded to,” she confirmed. “I’ll write them down and give them to Brains to look at once he’s finished with the information he currently has.” Scott nodded his head and began to talk about the differences he and Other-Gordon had realised earlier.

The different age gaps – Tin-Tin let out a small gasp when she found out Alan was only fifteen, but didn’t comment, much to his relief – and the different years of birth had already been somewhat covered in the lounge, but he also mentioned the differences in appearance, describing them as best he could and failing utterly at anything past “John’s hair is ginger, Virgil’s is black, Gordon’s is blond, and they’re all kinda younger-looking”. His observation of different fashions, their earlier discussion on perception of women, and even an attempt into the technological differences also made their way into Tin-Tin’s rapidly filling notebook. At some point they heard the sound of a rumbling engine, deeper than Thunderbird One’s, and he recognised it as this universe’s Thunderbird Two. Tin-Tin barely reacted, only mentioning off-handedly that they had about fifteen minutes left before continuing their conversation.

She steered clear of asking any questions about what had happened to his Dad, which he appreciated. That wound had been rubbed raw more than enough for one day, what with his initial outburst, Other-John’s quiet probing and Other-Gordon’s outright interrogation. She did, however, manage to steer the conversation towards his grandmother, and almost fell out of her chair when she discovered Sally Tracy couldn’t cook.

“However do you boys keep yourselves fed?” she demanded. “If it’s not Mrs Tracy, my father, or Kayo?”

Scott shrugged. “Take-out or snatching time to cook between missions,” he admitted. “One good thing about the world knowing we’re IR is that if I use Thunderbird One, take-out’s still hot by the time I get it back.” She laughed at that for a moment before turning serious again.

“But you boys must have a balanced diet,” she worried. “There’s no way you can keep up with the physical demands of International Rescue without one.”

“We manage,” he assured her. “When John’s home we lock him in the kitchen; he’s by far the best cook out of the five of us.” That elicited another laugh, although she looked halfway cross with herself for it. “We can all cook at least enough to survive.” She didn’t look entirely convinced, but with an entire universe between them, there wasn’t much she could do about it and the topic reluctantly got dropped.

“This is a lot of differences,” she said instead, looking down at her pages and pages of small, scrawling handwriting. Scott could barely read it, but it had also been a long time since he’d had to read anything handwritten that wasn’t his own writing – and even that was unusual. Why handwrite when you had computers to do that for you? “Most of them are small enough to work around while you’re here, but the differing years suggest your universe is five years younger than ours, and I’m not sure if there’s any significance about the different years of birth. That’s something Brains or John might understand better.”

He nodded his understanding, his chest feeling lighter now he felt like they were getting somewhere. Baby steps to be sure, and Other-John’s gentle reminder that it could take years still rang in his ears, but progress was progress.

“Now, it’s about time for the debrief to start,” she said, checking her own watch. Scott did the same, but the analogue dial taunted him, reminding him that he needed to learn to read it sooner rather than later – although that meant finding someone to teach him. “Alan and Virgil should be all cleaned up by now.”

Scott drained the remains of his coffee and stood up, empty cup in hand.

“Oh, leave the cup on the table,” Tin-Tin told him. “I’ll clean it up later.”

“If you’re sure,” he said dubiously – Grandma would have his hide for leaving dirty crockery anywhere that wasn’t the kitchen, and even then it was expected to be cleaned immediately. Rescues were the only permissible excuse to do otherwise.

“Perfectly,” she assured him, hand once again on his arm. “Come on, let’s go hear about what the boys did today.” With one last glance at the cup, and noticing that Tin-Tin had picked up her notebook, he let the young woman nudge him out of the room and headed for the stairs up to the lounge again.

Chapter 7>>>

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #long way from home #gordon tracy #jeff tracy #tin-tin kyrano

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Sugar, Sugar (Chapter Six)

In which Tony sings an inappropriate song, the boys invite Tony for a sleepover, and then Stucky meets Rhodey in what’s probably the worst conversation in the world. Just shenanigans guys, I still have barely managed a plot for this thing. It’s just baking themed bullshit.

MASTERLIST HERE

**************

“I’ll take you to the candy shop.” The music was low and thumping in Sweet Peach Bakery, something grinding and maybe even a little filthy, and Bucky walked right into the glass door when he caught sight of Tony shaking that ridiculous booty right along to the beat. “Let you lick the lollipop.”

“OW! Damn it!” Bucky grabbed at his nose and wrenched the door back opening, socking Steve right in the shoulder. “You couldn’a held the door open for me? Damn it!”

“Uh, yep.” Steve wasn’t listening in the slightest, but Bucky didn’t really blame him. Tony was be-bopping along to the sort of shockingly inappropriate lyrics, wriggling his butt and decorating cupcakes as he mouthed the words, glitter on his lips and some on the tip of his nose and the ever present powdered sugar dusting at his curls and nope Bucky didn’t blame Steve for not listening.

The devious little baker looked up and sent them a wink and sang, “Go ‘head boy don’t you stop. Keep going till you hit the spot, whoa.”

“I dunno what the hell this music is, but I approve of what Tony’s doin’ with that peach of his.” Bucky decided. “Move Stevie, lemme get at that. C’mere Tony, gonna kiss that glitter right off your mouth.”

“Oooh yay.” Tony puckered up immediately, far too adorable for the noise he made when their mouths met. “Isn’t the glitter fun? It’s edible. I poured at least a pound of it into this strawberry frosting, it’s for a five year olds birthday party and--”

“How are you still talking when I’ve got my tongue in your mouth?” Bucky complained and Tony giggled himself half to death before finally shutting up and letting the big brunette kiss him proper.

“Yeah that’s better.” Bucky bumped their noses gently. “How are ya, sweet thing?”

“And also, what the hell are you singing?” Steve cut in, budging close for his own kiss. “This feels like a reach from your usual music choices.”

“What, you boys never dry humped someone on the dance floor to Candy Shop by 50 cent?” Tony waggled his eyebrows. “What were you even doing in the early 2000s? This song is incredible.”

“It’s literally terrible.” Bucky said flatly and Steve echoed, “Seriously terrible. Change it immediately.”

“If you two weren’t so hot I’d kick you out for being no fun.” Tony grumbled, but the music changed to something less dry humping and more classic rock. “Better?”

“C’mere again.” Steve came back for another kiss, pushing the cake stand out o the way and winding his fingers into Tony’s hair to draw him in close. “You taste real good with glitter on, baby. This is all edible, huh?”

“Sure is.” Tony couldn’t hold on to Steve without smearing cake paraphernalia all over the button up shirt, so he settled for bracing himself on the counter and leaning in to turn the moment long. “Why? Does that give you ideas? Wanna lick it off me?”

“Wanna lick it off you somewhere.” the blond agreed and Tony laughed softly. “How much more work do you have tonight? Can we help clean up?”

“I’m never gonna say no to hot men wielding mops.” Tony decided and in the background, Bucky snorted in agreement. “But first come here and taste this frosting. Open up and say ahhhhh.”

“Another line from one of your sketchy songs?” Steve asked suspiciously and Bucky jabbed him in the side and ordered, “Open up and say ahhh Stevie, you know damn well you can do that real good. Go on.”

“You’re so romantic.” Steve said dryly, but he still opened wide and let Tony squeeze a whole glob of strawberry glittered frosting onto his tongue. “Oh this is--mmph!”

He startled when Tony tossed the frosting bag away and crushed their mouths back together, shoving his tongue past Steve’s parted lips to taste the sweetness.

“Mmm, come here.” It probably wasn’t super sexy to talk around a full mouth of glitter but that didn’t stop Steve from moaning out loud and swapping frosting filled kisses with their favorite baker, smearing it over their lips and licking it off the corner of Tony’s mouth, nipping at each other’s tongue and laughing quietly.

It probably wasn’t super sexy and good Lord was it messy, but Bucky watched it all with a grin anyway, his pants uncomfortably tight when Tony broke away only long enough to add more frosting and Steve stood there and sucked slow and wet at Tony’s tongue to get every single bit of sugar.

“Fuckin’ hell you two are sexy with glitter all over you like that.” he swore, and while Tony blushed soft sweet pink, Steve only glanced up with blue eyes sharp and knowing and heated. “Wanna get you guys home and watch you together. What d’ya think about that?”

“You want to watch us?” Tony made a hilariously wounded sort of noise when they parted even though he was the one who leaned away to talk. “That’s a little-- I mean-- why?”

“Cos you’re both gorgeous.” Bucky said bluntly. “Not anythin’ weird about it, just wanna watch the two prettiest guys in the fuckin’ world get nekkid together. That alright?”

“Just seems like if I’m hooking up with both of you, I ought to be hooking up with both of you.” Tony said slowly, hesitantly. “Leaving one of you out is--”

“Trust me, Bucky won’t be left out of anything.” Steve stole one more kiss. “There’s plenty of stuff the three of us can do together, yeah. But if you think it won’t be hot as hell to watch Bucky get off to watching us get off?” Tony blushed again and Steve grinned, “You’ll see sweetheart. It’ll be fine. I’m gonna go wash my hands and then I’ll be back, alright?”

Never one to miss a chance to ogle a behind, Bucky kept his eyes trained on Steve’s apple until he disappeared into the back, then turned to Tony and crooked his fingers, opened his mouth obediently and asked, “Maybe something without all the glitter, huh sugar?”

“Try this one. Coconut.”

Their kiss was less messy than the one Steve and Tony had shared, but Bucky was breathing hard by the end anyway, and Tony was biting at his lip and squirming a little, running his hand down the front of yet another ridiculously printed apron and squeezing at himself. “Good Christ Bucky. How the hell do you kiss like that?”

“Lots of practice. So you gonna come over tonight, or what?” Bucky eased away from Tony’s mouth, licking his own lips to chase the last bit of the sugar sweet frosting they’d shared. “We’ll make ya dinner and you can bring some’a this coconutty stuff and we’ll just eat it off each other.”

“Ooooh.” Tony wiped the last bit of chocolate from the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “Eating things off you and Steve sounds delicious, but we could do that here, no reason to thoroughly ruin your carpet by getting sloppy and experimental with a ganache blowjob.”

Steve reappeared from the back and made an interested noise, followed quickly with a, “I dunno what ganache is, but it seems like something that should happen soon.”

“Ganache is chocolate.” Tony laughed at the blonds excited expression and leaned in to kiss him one more time. “And it’s best played with over easy to clean floors. Let’s just order pizza and stay here.”

“Ain’t gonna fuck ya outside a proper bed, sweet thing.” Bucky said bluntly and Tony’s dark eyes flew open wide. “And I know you wanna take me for a ride, so quit stallin’ and let’s make it a date. Our house. Later tonight. What d’ya say?”

“…. I do want to take you for a ride.” the little baker said slowly. “But you know how I feel about dating a couple.”

“One date isn’t dating.” Steve argued, much more tactful than Bucky had been. “One date is like…hooking up. That’s it.”

“Then what’s the point of calling it a date?”

“Fine.” Bucky lifted his chin in a clear challenge. “You come over for a hook up then. No dinner, just drinks, the three of us will try and break th’bed and we’ll save me watching for another time. Not a date, just sex.”

“I feel like I’m missing why its such a big deal to have proper sex in a proper bed.” Tony was stalling and not bothering to hide it. “Steve did me so dirty the other night my couch is still blushing. What’s with you and needing a bed?”

“Okay first of all, Steve is a ho who once tried to get me naked in an alley because he had too many cosmopolitans and turned into two hundred and forty pounds of horny at like, three in the afternoon.” Bucky scoffed and Steve’s eyes went wide and horrified while Tony tried and failed to quiet a hysterical snort of laughter. “Stevie would fuck ya anywhere at any time and not care a single shit who saw his lily white ass out there in public.”

“OhmygodBuckychillthefuckout.” Steve mumbled and Tony did another one of those snort laughs.

“We need a bed cos I only want you th’good sorta sore tomorrow.” the brunette pointed out. “Not sore cos we dented a counter or sore cos I backed ya into a wall. Good sorta sore only. Plus you can take a shower after and we can cook you food and just--” he spread his hands and shrugged. “--just take care of you. Sex. In a real bed. It’s important.”

Tony shot Steve a look, and he explained, “Weirdly enough, Bucky gets real romantic and sort of old fashioned about this. The first time we slept together he got a hotel room because a regular bed wasn’t proper enough. King size bed, Tony. Curtains drawn so no one might see us, room service left outside the door so our privacy wasn’t ruined. It’s important to him.”

“Okay but that was sex for a relationship.” Tony pointed out. “Not a hook up. Where it all happens in a hook up isn’t as important even though--” and this time his glance at Steve was insanely judgmental. “-- I’ve never gotten day wasted on cosmos and tried to get naked in an alley, either.”

“You really gonna judge me for that?” Steve asked defensively and Bucky cut in, “Baby doll, the entire world judges you for that. Who gets day wasted on cosmos? You’re a literal giant, drink real alcohol.”

And then back to Tony, “C’mon sugar. We’ll do this right the first time and then we can go back to whole heartedly ruining your couches and doing health code violation things against your counters and with various frosting... tips.”

Tony hesitated, because it felt like this was still a date and it felt like maybe this was still becoming something like a relationship and it felt like he was still no where near ready for anything half that scary--

“We’ll pull a Cinderella and mess around until midnight, then put your peachy ass right into a cab and send you home.” Steve finally said, and Bucky sent him a quick, grateful smile. “How’s that?”

Tony hesitated and hesitated and hesitated, but Bucky was hard to resist and Steve was blinking those big blue eyes at him—

—and against his better judgment, “Okay. Tonight.”

**************

It took Tony until ten thirty that night to work up the courage to actually get in a cab and head over to Steve and Bucky’s, and it took another almost fifteen minutes standing outside the apartment building before he headed up in the elevator.

He was nervous, sick to his stomach maybe and he cursed himself, the two people who shall not be named, the last several years of his life and Italy over and over because how the fuck had he gotten to the point of freaking out over a hook up just because the hook up was happening at someone’s house instead of somewhere semi public and most likely highly inappropriate.

This was ridiculous and he was so tired of being scared all the time and by the time Tony knocked on Steve and Bucky’s door, his chin was up and eyes flashing in determination and damn it he would get through this night without being that one crazy person who can’t even do normal bedroom things without getting lost in his head.

He could do this, it was just Steve and Bucky, they were wonderful and gorgeous and hilarious and pretty much perfect boyfriend material and--

---and oh oh oh shit there he went down that rabbit hole again and absolutely not, he would absolutely not--

“Tony!” The door swung open and Bucky was --gulp-- shirtless for some beautiful reason and everything stupid Tony had been thinking disappeared the second he was hauled up against absolutely ridiculous Bucky-tiddies and smothered in a kiss.

“Tony!” Steve had to yell three different times from the kitchen because Bucky didn’t let Tony go until the little baker’s knees were quite literally giving out and Tony was clinging to Bucky’s shoulders for dear life while making a thoroughly embarrassing noise. “Bucky! Damn it, let Tony go so I can say hi too!”

“The hell I will! Be a good housewife and make me some goddamn snacks.” Bucky yelled back and kicked the door shut before pulling Tony right back into another soul searing kiss. “M’real glad you’re here, baby doll. Was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”

“I’ll be real honest, if I would’a known your nipples would have been on full display I would have been here sooner.” Tony said decisively, and Bucky just laughed against his lips. “You taste good, what have you been eating?”

“Whiskey.” Bucky grabbed at Tony’s hand and shoved it down to the waist of his sweats. “And Steve’s making homemade pretzels and beer cheese or something? I dunno but he’s real proud of it. You want a drink? Or-- or a pretzel?”

“I’d like some of this.” Tony brushed his knuckles over the line of Bucky’s cock, smirking when he felt it already half hard and twitching beneath his fingers. “Where’s that bed?”

“STEVE!” Bucky started pulling Tony towards the bedroom. “M’gonna get my tongue real deep in this peach, you bring us snacks!”

“WHAT!?” There was a clatter in the kitchen and Steve came sliding around the corner wearing only socks and a full body apron. “No no no, first we eat and then we peach and then we--”

Tony burst out laughing and happily took a kiss from a thoroughly whiskey tasting blond. “Is this what we’re doing? Drinking and kissing and peaching?”

“We will be doing the peaching, sweetheart.” Steve assured him. “You’re gonna drink and get giggly and maybe show us some of those awesome dance moves and then Bucky’s gonna rail you and if you kiss me real sweet, I’ll let you rail me and--”

“Wait wait wait.” Tony held up his hands. “Steve-- you would bottom for me? Seriously?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Steve went back to stirring cheese sauce. “I bottom for Bucky.”

“Everybody bottoms for Bucky.” Bucky handed Tony a shot, then swiped his finger through the cheese and made an agreeable noise. “I think what Tony means is ‘why would beefcake bottom for babydoll’?”

“That’s exactly what I meant.”

“But c’mon Tony.” Bucky tugged Steve in for a slow, gorgeous kiss. “No one who gets on his knees as fast as Stevie does is a top.”

“Okay that’s fair.” Tony reached in to taste the cheese too. “But for the record, no one who makes noises like I do is a top either sooooo....”

“Here.” Steve handed Tony a bottle of ibuprofen and another shot of whiskey. “Get loose and easy for us, babe. Gonna be a good night.”

"Gonna be a good night.” Tony downed the shot and pretended he didn’t see the open affection in Bucky’s pale eyes or the way Steve’s smile softened at the edges as he came closer to hold Tony close. “Let’s get naked, boys.”

*****************

Bucky woke up first the next morning and promptly reached across the bed to kiss Tony and then Steve good morning, but Tony was gone and Steve blinked sleepy eyes open in confusion when Bucky groaned out loud.

“Babe?”

“Tony’s gone.” Bucky gestured around the room. “Dunno what time we fell asleep but he must’ve gone right after. I know we talked about Cinderella but I didn’t expect that peach to turn into a pumpkin at midnight for real.”

“Tell me about it.” Steve scrubbed at his face wearily, and asked, “So um, are you gonna say it or am I gonna say it?”

“I’ll say it.” Bucky flopped back into the pillows and pulled Steve over into his arms, smooshing a kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead. “We. Are. Fucked.”

“So fucked. Head over heels and just outright fucked.”

“We are fucked, Stevie. Last night was amazing and now I dunno what the hell to do.”

“We invite Tony back for any reason possible.” Steve decided. “Move nights. Baking lessons. Literally anything that’s gonna get that sweet peach back through this door.”

“You pretty much love him right?”

“Bucky, the way he looked when he came last night--”

“Yep. We’re fucked.” Bucky felt around for his phone. “Gonna call the bakery and see if he’s in yet cos we gotta talk to him about all this not dating bullshit. This isn’t gonna-- oh ho holy shit, Tony put his number into my phone.”

“What!” Steve jerked upright. “His actual number? He’s gonna let us talk to him?”

“I’m calling him.” Bucky put the phone on speaker and kissed Steve real quick. “We’re gonna call him and tell him to get his ass back here so we can have a legit conversation and then I’m gonna tear that ass--”

“Hello?”

“Hey babydoll!” Steve said loudly, and Bucky grinned, “Get back here and let us double team your peach pit again! You walking funny yet, cos you will be here pretty soon!”

There was absolute silence on the other end of the phone, then the sound of a throat being cleared and the scariest voice either boys had ever heard--

“Son, this is Colonel James Rupert Rhodes of the United States Air Force, liason between the Department of Acquisitions and Stark Industries and Tony’s very best friend. Who. The Fuck. Is This.”

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh my god.”

“Sir we are so sorry--”

“We thought this was Tony’s number--”

“Oh my god, Colonel Rhodes I swear--”

“Seriously we never would have--”

“Boys, I in no way approve of you calling Tony and spouting this sort of filth.” If possible, the voice got deeper and scarier. “But I’ll let it go just this once because this is neither the first time Tony fake numbered some horny asshole and directed them to my phone, nor will it be the last time. Consider this your warning.”

“...uhhhhh yes sir?”

“Also, the next time you see Tony he will be in the hospital because I’m going TO BEAT HIS ASS FOR PULLING THIS CRAP AGAIN--!”

“RHODEY!” In the background somewhere Tony shrieked with laughter. “NO NO NO THIS WAS A FUNNY ONE! RHODEY NO! NOT THE MAPLE SYRUP!”

“I’M GONNA SYRUP THE HELL OUTTA YOU AND BURY YOU IN THE WOODS YOU FAKE NUMBERING PIECE OF SHIT STOP GIVING OUT MY NUMBER TO YOUR BOOTY CALLS I SWEAR TO GOD--!”

“Hello?” A new voice, cultured and smooth and sounding entirely exasperated. “Is this Bucky and Steve?”

“...yes?” They shared confused looks. “Who’s this?”

“This is Pepper Potts.” came the explanation. “Tony’s other best friend and Rhodey’s fiancee, we saw each other briefly across the room at the Sweet Peach happy hour. Now then, I’m sure you two shared a great night with Tony, he’s giggling and stupid and walking with a limp and that-- oh god, I hate that I know that means Tony had a great night. But don’t take any offense to the fake number, you just stumbled into an age old joke between my two favorite idiots. Would you like Tony’s real number?”

“...yes?”

“Alright then.” Pepper hesitated while there was a crash from somewhere behind her. “Welcome to the shenanigans, gentlemen. You’re in for a ride.”

“That’s alright.” Bucky finally found his voice, and elbowed Steve playfully. “You wanna know why they call me the Bronco, Ms. Potts?”

“Not even a little bit. I’ll text you Tony’s real number. Good bye.”

The phone clicked off and Steve covered his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh at loud. “Holy shit, we are fucked aren’t we?”

“I love him.” Bucky tossed his phone away and wrestled Steve back into the blankets. “We are fucked.”

***************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

***************

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @lookuplaughing @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @water-colouredmemories @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii

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#ncts fics #stuckony #stucky #tony stark #steve rogers #bucky barnes #james rhodey rhodes #pepper potts

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ultra-gari · 4 years

Text

Scarred. | Kaminari Denki x Reader

I’m not even sure what this is, lol. But my boy Kami needs more love. So here’s some h/c with him.

tw: scars (not from self-harm)

Kaminari moaned when your hips rolled against his and it took all his will power not to go any further than this heavy make-out session. Your hands pulled harder at his hair from the sound he made and with half-lidded eyes, you breathed his name. Feeling his blood rushing through his veins at that, his grip on your waist got stronger. He couldn’t help but crane his neck to kiss you once more. Your fingers left his hair and wandered down, cupping his face for a second before they found hold on his shoulders as your hips moved again.

A sight left both of your lips, yours leaving to trail down kisses along his jawline while he closed his eyes. The feeling of your kisses on his neck send shivers down his spine and the way your fingers touched him was intoxicating. They roamed his shoulders, taking in the warm skin of his arms before they explored his lean muscles on his chest. He quietly moaned again when you draw a slow circle over his crotch and your digits left patters on his stomach and with his name falling from your lips again before they sucked at his neck, it felt so good that he almost missed how your fingers played with the hem of his shirt, leisurely finding their way under it. His eyes flew open and you nearly fell from his lap when he pushed himself up to grab your wrists.

“Stop”, he said, his voice was pressed and full of panic.

Leaning back on your heels you asked, “Are you okay?” Your hands moved away from his shirt and he let go of them. Instead, he intertwined one of them with yours and gave it a gently squeeze.

“Yes, baby, it’s all good. I’m just not in the mood, y’know?” The lie left his lips in an instant, given that it was not the first time he had told you that.

“’kay…” You didn’t buy his answer. Hell, how could you after you felt his arousal just mere moments ago.

But as much as Kaminari wanted to tell you, he couldn’t do it yet. He knew that with the direction you two were going, he had to at one point, but because of his own selfishness, he wanted to delay that as far as possible. When he had literally run into you in that cute little ramen shop close to his work a few weeks ago, he had been immediately smitten by you. Fortunately, you had been interested as well, giving him your number and he had taken you out for some coffee the next day. On your second date a couple of days after, he had kissed you.

Ever since then, he had met you regularly, either eating dinner somewhere, cooking together at your place or playing video games at his, but always ending up with locked lips and roaming hands. And every time he had to end it. Along the way of all this, Kaminari had developed feelings for you which only made it harder for him. He was certain that you would react like all the other women and after the last few weeks, he wasn’t ready for you to leave yet. So he was being a dick, telling you lies why he stopped you when your hands found their way under his shirt, because he wanted to have more moments with you, even though the guilt made his stomach turn.

The feeling was even worse today, seeing you chewing your bottom lip and knitting your eyebrows together.

You turned your head to the side. “You know, you can tell me if you don’t find me attractive enough.”

“W-What? No, that’s not it!”

“I won’t throw a tantrum or be mad at you, just tell me.” Your voice was quiet.

He squeezed your hand. “Hey, cupcake, look at me”, he gently demanded. When you did, he added, “I swear, this has nothing to do with you and everything with me.”

His heart fluttered a bit as you chuckled. “That’s such a cliché, Kami.”

“It’s true though. I wasn’t lying when I said you took my breath away the first time you smiled at me, sweet cheeks.” Kaminari tried to give you one of his cheeky smirks, but it felt weak and shaky.

“But you’re lying every time I try to initiate something.”

It was his turn to look away. “I know.”

“Why?”, you asked as you kept looking at him. There wasn’t any anger in your voice.

Pressure formed in his chest, making his heartbeat faster as he realized that this was the moment he had tried to run away from. Of course he despised lying to you. But leaving you with the feeling his behaviour was your fault? He’d rather got beaten up by Bakugou. Despite thinking about it a lot beforehand, he didn’t know what to say and the first thing was, “You’re not gonna like me anymore after you’ve seen it.”

He sounded like a whiny teenage-boy, making the pressure worse. He felt like he was choking on the air.

You leaned closer to kiss his cheek and oh god, this would be the last time you would do this, he knew it. “Kami, I’m sure that’s not possible. It is about your body, isn’t it? I know that everyone has some parts that they don’t like about themselves, but from what I’ve could feel and see so far, there is nothing wrong with yours. Nobody is fla-”

The bubble in his chest exploded like a balloon being picked by a needle and he blurted out, “I’m scarred!” Warmth crept up his cheeks and the need to hide was almost unbearable. That was definitely not the way he had wanted to tell you.

You quirked and eyebrow up. “You are a hero, of course you would have some scars.”

He licked his lips, his eyes searching the room for something they could focus on. “It’s worse than that.”

Placing another kiss on his cheek, you mumbled, “Sunshine, why don’t you just show me and then we can argue how bad it is?”

His gaze wandered back to you and your relaxed complexion. Maybe it won’t be so bad this time, a tiny voice in his head said and suddenly he nodded. Sensing that nothing would come out if he tried to speak, he waved his hand to gesture that you should get off him. Letting go of his other fingers, you sat next to him on the couch. Kaminari took a last glance at your face before he turned away, his back facing you. Taking a deep breath in a weak attempt to calm himself, he resisted the urge to just run, grabbing his shirt with trembling hands at his neck and pulling it off. Once he was out of it, he let his head hung low.

Your shocked gasp filled the room for a second and Kaminari closed his eyes. He memorised the picture that you saw a long time ago.

Dozens over dozens over dozens of scars littered his whole back. They were small, each only less than an inch long, but there were so many that it didn’t mattered anyway. Some of them were straight, some cracked ironically like a lightning bolt and the white colour and shiny surface only added to that even more. It was the worst around his spine. They gathered along it, covering almost every part of skin of it before they spread out. In two years or so, his sides, shoulders and neck would be coated with them as well. And after that, his front and his arms would be next, maybe even his legs. At least they didn’t hurt or made his skin tight.

“How?”

“Every time I short-circuit myself.”

It had started to happen at the training camp during their first summer break. While he had changed in front of his friends, Sero had spotted them. On that day, Kaminari hadn’t bothered, thinking that they might be scars from his childhood since they weren’t that many. It only had occurred to him that they could be quirk related when Kirishima had pointed out more of them the next day. When they had been back at school after the incident, he had overused his quirk on purpose, confirming his theory. There had been nothing Recovery Girl could have done to remove or undo them and he also hadn’t minded, assuming that he would solve the problem of going into his yay-mode quite fast.

But he had forgotten that he had been at UA, so they had pushed and pushed and pushed him, always going plus ultra. The self-awareness had kicked in when all of the boys had started to send hidden glances at his back and as the cherry on top of it all, Bakugou had stopped calling him stupid and dunce face.

Now, a few years later, they didn’t increased as frequently as back then, since he actually managed to raise the limits of his quirk ridiculously high. The damage had been done anyway, especially on his confidence, masking his insecurities by being even more awkwardly flirtatious. When there hadn’t been that many, he could still explore intimacy with girls, but even that had changed after the scars had covered all of his lower back, making him feel the need to either warn them beforehand or not anticipating anything at all. He bad become used to the different reactions, so much that he could foreshadow them based on the personality most of the time and slowly finding peace in never finding a significant other.

But then you came, knocking him straight out of his Pikachu socks and he wanted nothing more for you than to stay. And now he was sitting in front of you. He felt naked in a way that had nothing to do with clothes. It was as if you could look right through him, like his soul with all his insecurities he developed over the years laid directly in front of you, ready to get stumped on again. At any moment now, you would get up and tell him that you couldn’t to this and that it’s dis-

“Can I touch them?”

“What?” His head whipped around and he saw your face out of the corners of his eyes. Your hand was already hovering in the air, mere inches away from his skin. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint your emotions; there was sadness, maybe a hint of anger – but he felt that it wasn’t towards him – and something softer, calmer, something he had seen before in your eyes when you looked at him. Your question threw him off guard, obviously. No one ever wanted to touch them willingly, but before he could think about it further, he nodded and turned his head back, missing the reassuring smile you gave him.

His heart was beating a mile per minute and a shiver ran through him as your fingertips tenderly touched a scar on his right shoulder blade. It wasn’t bad per se, but a completely new feeling. He experienced sensory overload as the pads of your fingers followed the thin lines. The silence buzzed violently in his ears and the clock was ticking so loudly, leaving him suddenly wishing he had put some music on before you came over and your breath fanned his neck, making him feeling hot there while the rest of his body was cold from his anxiety.

And then you kissed one of them and his heart missed a beat at the feeling. It was gently and warm and loving. His vision blurred.

“That”, you started lowly, pressing your lips on another scarred patch between the words, “doesn’t change a damn thing.” Your arms came around his waist, pulling him closer. Embracing him with all his flaws and he barely could hold a sniffle in. “And you know why?” Another kiss, this time closer to his neck. “Because you’re still beautiful.”

He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, forcing the tears back with a mess of white dazzling dots behind his eyelids, pleading, “Please, stop.”

But you would have none of that. “And that has nothing to do with your looks. I fell for you, because you’re funny and smart and adventurous and so unbelievable lovable.”

There were more kisses and it got too much. The last word ripped a sob through him. One of your hands were on his chest, pushing him down with you while the other was waving through his hair as he let himself fall. The tears were streaming freely now and Kaminari couldn’t tell if it was because the anxiety had deflated the second you had hugged him or because your words had awoken an emotion deep within him. Either way, he didn’t hold back, couldn’t bring himself to do so anymore and you didn’t seem to mind as you cooed at him.

God, how long had he been longing to hear these words? Not the ‘you can still be a hero, bro’, the ‘it just means you’re pretty strong’, the ‘don’t worry, with your face and chest you’re still sexy’, but the simple confirmation that he was enough. That he wasn’t his scars. That he was more than that.

At some point, you turned him around and pulled him even closer and he pressed his face into your neck, babbling incoherent words about all the pitiful looks with the reassuring pads on his shoulder afterwards and the countless rejections he had gotten over the years, because yes, he was nice, but that’s not what they were looking for.

Eventually, the sobs stop wrecking through his body, turning into sniffles and after a while they were gone too. Your hand drew small circles on his back and just the sheer thought of such a tender affection on something he despised for so long had him almost bawling his eyes out again.

He closed his eyes, whispering, “You meant that?”

“All of it”, you answered, giving him a kiss on top of his head.

Thinking what to say next to express his feelings, he sat up. His back was turned to you again, this time however, he felt comfortable. It was still weird, of course, but he had nothing to hide anymore. You’ve seen everything, you’ve seen him – and you were still here.

“I’ll go and get you some water”, you said quietly and stood up. You were right, he really needed that. The headache grew with every passing second and he probably looked like shit with blood-shot eyes and reddened cheeks and god knows whatnot, but he grabbed your wrist, looking up to you. Your gaze and smile were warm and there wasn’t any need to ask, but, “So you’re going to stay?”

You leaned down to him again, faces mere inches from each other. “Yes, Denki, I’m staying. Takes more than that to scare me away.”

He ignored the wet patch on your shirt – you could wear one of his shirts soon, he definitely wouldn’t mind - and the fact that he absolutely needed to wash his wash as he cupped your face to press his lips onto yours. He hummed into it, smiling. He really liked the sound of you saying his name.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #kaminari denki x Reader #Kaminari denki #he needs more love #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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