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eveenstar · 2 years

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MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔪𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔲𝔰 || 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔵 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯||

𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑖𝑖: 𝑊𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐼 𝑅𝐸𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is Stephen's turn to search the library for spells to return to their universe, leaving (Y/N) alone with the Sinister Strange. They end up having a conversation about "old times."

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔰/𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Cursing

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: (Comment/Reblog/Use my inbox if you wish to be tagged!) @jimin-sii @ghost-lantern @dopeqff @dragonqueen89 @weirdhorrorenthusiast @justsomecreaturewandering @fadedeuphoria @yuugenmomo @slut-for-matt-murdock @sonnensplitter @isasv @catherinewind05 @thewestcoasts @sanctumsanctorumshenanigans @nancy-thompsons @kuboshu1 @mylovelyreblogs @uncle-eggy @sweet0pia-uwu @severuined @dishwasher666 @andrewswifes-blog

ɑ/ɳ: I must let you all know that I have been reading every single comment and I appreciate you guys SO MUCH!!! It's a wonderful feeling waking up in the morning to read the walls of comments under the chapters ❤ A huge thank you <3 P.S: I feel like this chapter is all over the place and I'm not proud of it, I'm very sorry!

"Alright Stephen," (Y/N) cracked her fingers and neck in an attempted to release the discomfort in her muscles. "You're up."

Doctor Strange was sitting in the couch meditating while Sinister Strange was by one of the windows, gazing outside - in (Y/N)'s mind they looked like two territorial cats on the edge of attacking each other. Stephen opened his eyes, first looking at the other Strange - as if to check if he was still there - and then back to her.

He quirked his eyebrow. "Are you sure?" The sorceress nodded, "Maybe you should search harder. "

Dumbfounded, (Y/N) stared at him in silence before crossing her arms. She knew the reason for his strange - no pun intended - behaviour, Stephen had made it clear he did not want her alone with his dark counter-part. But (Y/N) was a grown woman who had spent the rest of the day studying and she had more than enough with his paranoia.

"Stephen, I spent the last 7 hours in the library. You better move your ass from that couch before I kick it." The heroic sorcerer raised his eyebrows as if challenging her. Sinister Strange's shoulders shook lightly. "The only thing close enough were some books about time manipulation and time travel."

While the two sorcerers discussed it - more like Stephen trying to convince (Y/N) to keep searching, they missed Sinister Strange's slight head turn after the young sorcereress mentioned the books she found.

"Be careful, please." Their eyes met. It had been so long since Stephen's eyes carried vulnerable emotions in their reflection - once, (Y/N) used to drown herself in the warm waters of his gaze -, emotions that he had swore to hide away from the universe.

(Y/N) winked, a comforting smile spreading on her features. "You know me."

Stephen sighed and made his way to the library with great hesitance, "That's why I'm worried."

The atmosphere was lifted once the two sorcerers weren't in each other's presence. (Y/N) aspired loudly and dramatically fell onto the couch - the dust hovered in the air but that didn't matter, she was thankful she finally had a place to rest.

Once settled, (Y/N) let her mind wander. So much had changed in the last six years, ever since The Blip, and ever since she...was gone for five years. Still, of course, it felt like it happened yesterday - she remembered her disappointment in Stephen after he gave the stone to Thanos, and the disturbing peace she felt when she was 'dying' - at least she wouldn't be here to see the aftermath.

"Stephen?" The sorcerer turned around to look at (Y/N). In this reality, it was not him who was snapped, it was his companion-in-magic. "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry." He wished he could disappear as well, the haunted yet grave look on her face was enough to make his stomach twirl in regret. "There was no other way."

The sorceress hissed at the memory - She believed in putting the greater good above others lives, but in her mind, there was a limit not to crossed. Even if they got everyone back, tried to bring normality to the world, it had a cost. Of course, everything had a cost.

And that cost was heavy on her shoulders.

"Those books I found," Strange remained stoic by the window, "We don't have them back in our universe. Where did you get them?"

"In a library." Now, the sorcerer turned to her with a cryptic smirk playing on his lips. (Y/N) quirked her eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"Why are you studying about time manipulation and time travel...Strange?" A sting of fear made her second-guess her choice of conversation when the sinister sorcerer stood tall in front of her - she didn't even see him coming!

Sinister Strange slowly lifted her chin up to look at him - he had been so eager to feel her, to know that this wasn't another hallucination of his fractured mind. The sorcerer bored his gaze on hers, that trademark look that he has with his piercing blue eyes, and immediately followed by a crooked smile.

"It is not polite to interrogate the host, now is it?" (Y/N) could almost see the amusement behind his eyes, and his actions made her heart beat faster that she could feel it on her head - but defiant, she got up to level up with him as best as she could. This was not the time to let her feelings get in the way, he was still Stephen Strange after all.

"We're not your enemies."

Strange hummed and shook his head, "No, you are not." He cut her short before (Y/N) could reply, "My apologies." Strange took a step back, allowing her some space, "It has been a long time since I had...proper interactions with someone."

The sorceress could understand the feeling, somewhat, or at least she tried to. It had not been easy adjusting to normal life after being gone for five years. "I get it, I really do." She laughed to ease off the tension, "You try being gone for five years and adapt to life afterwards."

Now it was Sinister Strange's turn to feel confused - and of course, (Y/N) could tell by the curious yet surprised look on his (often emotionless) face that the Blip had not occurred here.

"What...What happened?" His voice, too, sounded softener. "Did you..." Strange couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. Did she die and her Stephen brought her back? Without any consequences? How?!

"Well, technically, yes, but then Bruce brought everyone back." A saddened look befell on her eyes, "But sadly that did not affect those who died during those five years."

There was silence, but a comforting one. It was like he was giving her time, and space, to feel her emotions and let them all out for him to see.

"Thanos used the Infinity Stones to kill half of the universe, all thanks to Stephen who gave him the last stone." (Y/N) sighed. "I'm sorry, you would've probably done the same thing."

"I would not." Strange narrowed his eyes as if he took offense to that.

Despite being the same person, having the same genes, Strange was proving himself to be...a different man than her Stephen was. (Y/N) did not know if she should be frightened or not.

She couldn't help but look outside.

"So is this what happened...?" It was more of a loud thought than a question, "You didn't give Thanos the time stone and...this was the result."

The sorceress did not expect an answer this time - Her theory was making perfect sense in her mind. The fog surrounding the distorted buildings in the distance gave her a sensation of deja vu, or maybe an impeding doom? She could no longer tell the difference.

Strange remained silent as he watched her.

"There is a..." Stumbling on his words, the sorcerer cleared his throat. "You can use your bedroom upstairs. You clearly need a shower and a change of clothes." (Y/N) stared back at him with widen eyes, "And try to get some sleep."

"Thank you," Gods, she could hug him right then if she didn't feel like it'd be evading his bubble, "Thank you so much!" Even if she couldn't hug him, she sure as hell could run upstairs like there was no tomorrow.

With her scene done, there came another character to the stage that was the Sanctum.

Hidden in the shadows, the heroic Doctor Strange was witness to his sinister counter-part interaction with his protégé - He was ready to defend them both if Sinister Strange attacked, but that was not the case, just yet - and once the protagonist was no longer in sight, all facade was put aside. The sinister doctor locked eyes with Stephen and unlike (Y/N), he saw a reflection of death and destruction behind his mirror.

#dark!doctor strange x reader #dark!doctor strange #sinister strange x reader #sinister strange #dark!marvel #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic series

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tootiredmotel · 3 years

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Electricity

Inspired by @ledzeppelinmixtape 's emoji prompt: ⛈

Read on ao3 or below / 2.3k words

It's 11pm and storming biblically when Dean and Cas's apartment goes dark.

"Great," Dean mutters under his breath. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

From somewhere else in the apartment, his roommate asks "did the power go out?"

"What do you think, sunshine?" Dean replies sarcastically.

He has a half-written essay in front of him, but he knows his old-ass computer won't last long unplugged, so he saves the document before shutting it off. He leans back in his chair, stretching for the first time in an hour and running a hand down his face. He actually needed a break from the screen, he realizes, feeling his eyes relax as he rubs them.

The steady rain and strong winds outside make an overwhelming white noise track, interrupted only by thunder that goes from faint and distant to deafening in volume. If Dean wasn't stressed out of his mind and completely exhausted right now, he might actually find this kind of nice.

"It's raining cats and mice out there," he hears Cas say, his voice now in the room.

Dean smiles, still rubbing his eyes with the backs of both his hands. "Cats and dogs, Cas."

"Right. Cats and dogs."

It’s really no use correcting him; the entire animal kingdom could be falling from the sky right now and there wouldn't be much of a difference. The winds are definitely knocking things over, and the streets will certainly be flooded come morning. Dean wonders for how long the university will cancel classes after this (if at all, the heartless bloodsuckers).

A particularly loud clap of thunder startles Dean. He drops his hands from his face and opens his eyes, expecting to see pitch black nothingness, but the room is faintly lit by the flashlight Cas is holding as he rummages through their kitchen drawers. He approaches a minute later and sets a candle down on the small table.

"Smart."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, sitting down opposite him. Dean smiles again, this time shaking his head.

If anyone ever asked him to mention one thing he likes about Cas, just one, he'd probably say how genuine Cas is, how he takes everything to heart and speaks from it as well. Dean said just one word, smart, a simple comment on the fact that it occurred to Cas to light a candle instead of wasting the battery of their one flashlight, and Cas genuinely thanked him for the compliment. He's just ridiculously cute in his earnestness.

Cas is trying to light the candle now, but their lighter is tricky. Despite living together in that apartment for a year and a half now Cas has never really gotten the hang of it.

"Here, let me."

Dean means to take the lighter from Cas and do it himself, he really does. That is 100% his intention as he reaches across the table. Except he sees an opportunity, and Dean Michael Winchester is nothing if not smooth.

He wraps his hand around Cas's, gently guiding his fingers until they’re placed just right, and the lighter clicks on with ease. Cas meets his eyes, smiling, and Dean can feel the slightest brush of Cas’s thumb against his hand. It’s a small gesture, but clearly deliberate, and it sends Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas leans away, puts the lighter aside, and starts leafing through a book he brought. Dean’s heart is still racing as he watches him.

Scratch that first thing. If anyone ever asked him what’s one thing he likes about Cas? His hands. God. Neat nails, slightly calloused palms, and overall larger hands than you’d expect. Cas is an environmental science major and he wants to get a Ph.D. in botany, so of course, there’s a small garden on their fire escape. He tends to those plants every day with more gentleness and care than Dean has ever seen, and Dean loves to watch him, even though he has no idea what Cas is doing with them half the time. He just knows that not a single one of their plants have died under Cas’s care. He names them too.

His attentiveness. That’s another thing Dean might say if anyone ever asked. Cas left to visit his sister Anna last winter break. He left Dean in charge of the plants, three of which died inside the week. (For Dean’s birthday a couple of months later, Cas got him a book. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean keeps it on his nightstand.) Dean went out and bought new ones, but he knew Cas would notice the difference, and he did. He wasn’t mad at Dean though, and he appreciated the effort, and as Dean apologized profusely over and over again, Cas looked at him in the eyes oh-so-softly and told him he was forgiven.

How could Dean possibly forget? If anyone ever asked, he’d say that Cas’s eyes are one of his favorite things about him. One of his favorite things, period. Dean is absolutely mesmerized whenever Cas looks him in the eye, and the guy loves making eye contact, which means that Dean lives in a perpetual smitten daze. He has never seen that shade of blue anywhere else on this earth. Or maybe he just hasn’t been looking, content to get his fill of that blue by staring into Cas’s eyes as much as he gets to on a daily basis.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean blinks himself back to reality. “Hm?”

“You seem… spaced.”

Dean is staring. He’s been staring this whole time. Shit. Crap.

“Yeah, um. Just tired.”

Mr. Smooth, everybody.

“Maybe you should go get some rest. I doubt the power will be back anytime soon.”

Castiel Milton, always looking out for you. It makes Dean melt.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wanna stay here with you, though, he thinks. Instead, because he’s pathetic, he asks “what’re you reading?”

Cas shows him the cover. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean breaks out in laughter.

“So you’re going into my room and stealing my shit now?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your Vonneguts.” Cas puts the book aside, an easy smile on his face. “Just wanted something light to pass the time.”

“You done with your homework?”

A soft yawn escapes Cas. “For now.”

“Dude, why not just go to sleep? You look exhausted.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Dean tries to deadpan him. He fails, because around Cas, it’s near impossible for him to not smile.

“Besides, I might be done but you weren’t.”

“And you wanted to keep me company.”

Cas shrugs as if to say I guess, but he does it with a knowing smile. The smile doesn’t falter as he meets Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t look away when silence settles between them, the only sound being the stormy white noise.

Dean is sure he could drown in that blue and die happy.

Before that train of thought gets away from him again, Dean tears his gaze away and stretches. “We should really go to bed though, I’m not getting any more done tonight,” he says as he stands.

“Of course,” Cas says, but he grabs the book again.

“You not going?”

“I want to finish this chapter.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Dean smile. Again.

“Well, g’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean thinks he detects a bit of shakiness in Cas’s voice but decides that he’s probably just tired.

He gets to his room and changes into something comfortable, the first t-shirt and sweatpants he finds as he rummages in the dark. He goes to set his phone on his nightstand and crawl into bed, but in place of the book he keeps there and puts his phone on top of– the book Cas has at the moment– he finds something else.

It’s paper. It’s folded into the form of a book, like one of those youtube craft tutorials with bad music, and it's no bigger than his own palm. The cover is handwritten, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Cas's. He smiles, expecting a prank or joke of some sort, Cas knows how stressed Dean can get with the start of the semester. However, his smile falters as he reads the cover:

How to tell your best friend you’re in love with him.

With a shaky hand, Dean opens the small book. The first page is the only one with any more writing on it, and it reads:

You leave him a note and hope it’s enough.

Dean is storming out of his bedroom (no pun intended) before he knows it. He barely even feels his feet moving, too focused on the pounding in his ears and the dryness in his mouth. He doesn’t go into the living room, not yet; his feet stop at the end of the short hallway and he braces himself against the wall. The room is spinning and he can barely breathe.

“Cas?” He chokes out.

Cas puts the book back down on the table in front of him and interlocks his fingers in front of him. He doesn’t look at Dean– Cas, who makes too much eye contact – and takes a deep breath before saying “yes?”

He’s nervous.

Dean takes a step forward, still keeping one hand on the wall just in case, and holds up the note. “What is this?” he asks, because his brain is just not there with him yet.

Cas stands, still not facing Dean. “Dean, do you know what day it is?”

He’s asking this now???

“September firs–”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Cas isn’t today the–”

“The night we met. Two years ago.”

Dean feels his brain catching up now as the memory starts coming back to him. Cas helps, starting to recount that night.

“Two years ago tonight, I was leaving my night course at the university, and it was raining. Not as bad as this,” –Cas looks out the window and lightning strikes, as if on cue– “but pretty badly, and I was an inexperienced freshman without an umbrella.”

Dean remembers. He was walking Charlie to her dorm when it started drizzling, and it was pouring by the time he made it back to his car. Dean had a night shift at the gas station and was about to head there.

“Two years ago tonight,” Cas continues, “you invited me into your car to shelter me from the rain.”

Dean saw this guy running in the direction of the men’s dorms, which were on the other side of campus. He felt bad, and he had a car, so he opened the passenger door and let him in.

Turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he’d ever laid eyes on. He was a bit awkward, but he had no filter, which made him weirdly funny. He asked about the music playing in the car and listened intently to Dean's rambling. He laughed at his jokes too.

At the end of the five-minute drive, he said his name was Castiel, and Dean asked for his number and saved it as Cas with a thunderstorm emoji. Because even if he didn’t know it yet, Dean was already whipped.

“Two years ago,” Cas says, finally looking up at Dean. His eyes are wide and vulnerable and he looks terrified and Dean can barely stand it. “Two years ago tonight, I started to fall in love with you.”

Dean can’t breathe. His ears are hot and he can’t stop fidgeting with the note in his hand and he can’t breathe.

But his feet start moving again, out of their own volition. They move toward Cas.

“If you don’t feel–” Cas starts, but Dean swallows his words.

Again, Dean’s brain isn’t all there yet, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already in it. He’s grabbing Cas’s face, digging his fingertips into the back of his hair, and the note is forgotten on the table, and thunder rumbles not that far away. He’s darting out his tongue, begging to explore Cas’s mouth as he’s wanted to do since forever, and Cas lets him. He tastes like toothpaste and coffee and honey and Dean never wants to taste anyone else ever again.

Cas is wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing his entire body against him. It’s making Dean weak in the knees but it’s okay because Cas is almost holding him upright at this point. There’s another clap of thunder, much closer this time, and the lightning probably illuminated the apartment, but it wasn’t enough to make them part. They’re moving and grasping and exploring frantically, and Dean is afraid Cas is going to disappear, or that he’s going to wake up and this will all have been another dream. But no, it’s real, and they’re playing catchup on two years worth of desire and longing and love.

They eventually pull away, breathless and giddy. The only sounds are the rain and the wind. Dean opens his eyes first, needing to see Cas and make sure this is completely, definitely, unequivocally real. Cas is smiling and taking deep breaths, and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders. He opens his eyes a second later, and even in the darkness, even with just the faint candlelight, the blue in them seems to shine. And even though there's no power, it feels as if there's electricity crackling in the air around them. It might be the storm.

No. It's the moment. This moment with Cas is what feels electric.

“Come to bed?” Dean asks, feeling brave and going out on a limb. The only way Cas responds is by interlocking his hand into Dean’s and kissing him again.

And after tonight, for the rest of his life, if anyone ever asks him “what’s one thing you love about Cas?” Dean won’t be able to narrow down an answer.

He’ll just say: “Everything.”

#gen.fics #spncreatorsdaily #creativecaviar #userjennmish #userdorksinlove #userstarry #tuserari #plantdadcas #offbeattraxx #slipper007 #thisisapaige #lyntracks #deancas #destiel #college au #fic #spn #gen creates

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sillydg · 3 years

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Unfulfilled Hunger: Tobias X MC

Book: Open heart, somewhere in book 3

Rating: 18+ (Adult content!)

Pairing: Tobias X MC ((Elisabeth Sarah Hughes (Liz))

Title: Unfulfilled Hunger

Rating: Explicit NSFW 18 + Only

Wordcount: 6500

Summary: Thank you so much for your request, @kachrisberry, to write what happens if they get back at Tobias’s apartment, after him carrying her out of the Laser tag game. A follow-up, for “Foul Play”.

Category: Explicit Smut

A/N: First of all, I find it important to say that both Liz and Tobias feel safe to protect their own boundaries and to speak up if something is not too their likings. They're both adults and both are completely comfortable and wanting to engage in each of these activities. A/N: This one ended up a bit longer than anticipated (Pun intended). But I got my hands on Tobias.. and maaaaaybe got a little bit carried away... But no, nah, not going to apologize for that 😉. Please let me know if you guys enjoyed the ride and please sent me an ask if you want to request something for OH or The royal romance, because I loved writing this and I'll hope you enjoy reading it.

Warnings: Foul language (sexy talk and swearing), Explicit adult seksual content. IF you read this FF, you confirm that you're 18 years or older.

Tobias and MC belong to Pixelberry.

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Unfulfilled Hunger

Tobias opens his door with one hand, pulling Liz through with the other. “It’s a goddamn miracle that we got home in one piece, Hughes." He slams the door and pushes her against it, crashing his lips against her...

Murmering he continuous; “You almost fucking killed me by touching yourself like that in the car." His hands drifting over her body. "For god's sake, you already came once and I almost caused an accident by just looking at you trembling like that in the frontseat.”

Liz grins as he moves his kisses to her neck. “I had to do something, since I was not allowed to touch you. Besides, I simply HAD to touch myself at the sight of you.” She kicks off her boots.

Tobias bites her neck with a groan. “Ohhh, you dirty, dirty girl.”

Grinning she pushes him away, making him bump into the wall across from her.

“Off with the shirt, Carrick.”

“So commanding.” He gives her a cheeky smile. Such a turn-on.

“For a woman who was first complaining about me getting my shirt off… you changed your mind pretty quickly.”

“Oh save it, Carrick.” She tugs at his shirt, trying to take it off herself.

He grabs her wrists, turning her around. "Oh. I don't think so, Liz." He pins her against the wall with her hands up in the air.

“Now, I believe I was enjoying myself.” His lips find her neck again.

“For god's sake, T. Stop torturing me. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you all week after that little stunt you pulled .

Standing bare chested in front of me, but holding my hands so there was no way of touching you. Brushing your delicious lips against mine, without giving me the slightest taste of your tongue. All I could think of was touching, tasting, savoring you. For god's sake, I know you've noticed me undressing you with my eyes.”

Tobias looks up, meeting her eyes with a twinkle. “Ooooh, was that what you were doing during our daily meetings. I already wondered what you were thinking about when you stared at me like that, biting on your pen. Licking your cherry red lips.”

“Ohh, You very well knew, T. Because you were walking around 24-7 with that goddam annoyingly sexy, self-conscious smirk on that way too handsome face of yours.

God. I had to touch myself every night, when I was lying in bed. Desperate attempt, after desperate attempt to satisfy the hunger you released in me. But it never seemed enough. I'm so fucking hungry for you, Carrick. ”

He leans back to meet her gaze, his eyes filled with longing and frustration. She feels her knees getting weak at the intensity of him staring at her, glad to be pinned against the wall. “Well, it serves you right, Liz.”

He breaks the gaze and unbuttons her short with one hand, letting it slide onto the ground. His hand moves into her red lacy panties, softly stroking her lips, teasing her inner thighs. He smiles at the feeling how wet she already is for him and he lowers his mouth to her ear, whispering; “Now you know how I felt over the past few months, Liz. It started when I first saw you in that deli, with your messy bun and yoga pants.

It became worse after the fire I saw in your eyes when we met at Bloom. You were so snarky at me, Liz. I wanted to bend you over the table, pull up that way to the tight dress of yours, and give you a good spank, just to let you know who’s the boss. And believe me... It sure isn’t Ethan.

But things got really messy from the moment I saw you in that short at the baseball field." He lowers his voice to what almost sounds like a deep growl; "You know why I missed every freaking ball that day, Liz?”

She groans as he moves his hand out of her string.

��Because every time you threw the ball, your shirt would come up ever so slightly and showed this little part of your belly and the fucking lacy edge of your little pink thong.” He moves his fingertip over her sensitive skin right above her panties and she lets out a soft moan.

His hand disappears again in search of her clit, moving softly and slowly. Taking his sweet, sweet time to find the right spot.

The roughness of his stubble, the tickling of his husky voice, and now him touching her at her most sensitive spot... She feels a warmth quickly spreading through her body.

“You ruined me that day, Hughes.” He gently moves two fingers inside her, still drawing slow, sweet circles over her clit with his thumb. Her breath enhances, and he feels her contracting around his fingers.

“I’ve been touching myself ever since at the thought of dropping the bat and taking you right there on the field. Not caring who sees me, trusting into you, making you mine.

So it serves you right.”

He leans back again to take look at her. Her eyes are closed, completely at his mercy. His lips find hers in a slow, deep kiss, and he feels how close she gets to release. He murmurs to her lips. “Not yet, Hughes.”

He abruptly lets go of her wrist, letting his hand slip out her briefs. Leaving her breathing hard as her arms fall, startled at the sudden movement.

He walks away towards the living room, and right before he disappears, he gives her a million-dollar smirk over his shoulder. And after just a second she sees his shirt flying into the hallway.

Trying to compose herself from almost getting pushed over the edge, she leans against the wall. After a few deep breaths, she kicks the short off her feet, following him into the living room. So, we're still playing dirty.

She finds Tobias casually leaning against the counter, a drink in his hand. She swallows as she takes him in. Her eyes drift over his toned brawnylicous abs, moving down to his pants which are hanging dangerously low on his hips, just enough to make her thoughts go wild, but not enough to reveal anything.

She smiles cheekily, trying to hide how taken she is with the sight of him. God, his ego might explode if he only knew. “So, where Is my drink?”

He gives her his signature smirk. “Well, I thought, since I’ve taken my shirt off, I’m going to enjoy a drink while I watch you take your shirt off.. and after that, we can talk about you having a drink.” He moves towards the large breakfast counter and jumps to sit on it, clearly expecting a show.

She turns around, smiling over her shoulder. "Careful what you are wishing for, Carrick. Sure you can handle me?" She starts to move her hips slowly from side to side.

Tobias bites his lip as he looks at her perfectly shaped ass, dressed ever so little by the red lace string she is wearing. As she lets her hands drift over her rounds, he follows her hands up as they grip onto her small tank top. And with one fluid pull, it falls on the ground, right where he likes it to be.

He glances at her as she turns around, showing off her matching set, with all the curves in the right places. He is surprised to see that her bra is practically one small piece of fabric, adoring the sight of her nipples shining and peaking through the red lace.

Smirking, he moves his hand over his chest. “You cheeky Minx. You planned this, didn’t you? Or are you always wearing these matching lingerie sets..”

She sways forward, smiling seductively. Tobias's eyes are completely fixated on her breasts, slowly moving down to her swaying hips and back up, not able to determine where to look.

“I think I’m going to let you find that out for yourself. It might surprise you how diverse my lingerie is… So I suggest you undress me every day from now on…”

He swallows; “God, where have you been hiding, Hughes?”

Shrugging casualy, she cocks up an eyebrow.

“Now about that drink, T.”

He gets ready to jump off the counter, but she stops him. “Oooh no Carrick... you stay... right there, like the good boy you are.” She moves to stand between his legs. “Now, let me take care of this for you.” She tucks on his jeans, pulling them off.

“My, my, what a treat.” She moves her hand over the big bulk in his boxers and smiles. "And you dare to ask, where I've been hiding, T?"

He lets out a deep moan as she keeps caressing him. He leans backward on his hands, giving in to the feeling. She gives him a cheeky smile, puts his legs together, her hands onto the counter, and straddles him after one effortless jump."

Caught off-guard he starts to stumble, looking at the woman suddenly at his eye-level. “What the..”

“Ohh Carrick, Carrick, Carrick” She kisses him softly, teasing his lips with her tongue. Holding herself steady with her hands on his chest, slowly grinding her pussy against his hard cock through his boxers. After a few minutes of exploring, she encourages him to lie on his back. Tongues still dancing and she feels him gasp, the moment he touches the cold marble with his bare skin.

While pulling back, she keeps the friction going, and not only for his pleasure. “I might have forgotten to tell you… But I love yoga, it’s not just the comfortable pants for me. And I might have done gymnastics for a big part of my life. So if you keep up the good work, Carrick, you might get the chance to find out how flexible I really am.”

“For god’s sake,” he murmurs under his breath. She keeps rubbing herself against his hard length, not quite enough to take him over the edge, but enough to let him balance on it...

“Now, I need you to move up, Carrick. I want this whole divine body of yours onto this counter.”

He smirks; "What makes you think that you're the one in control, Hughes? Remember what happened earlier when you tried to command me? Or do I need to refresh your memorie?"

A sly smile appears on her face; "It must be nice, living in that head of yours T. Still convinced you're the one in control? Let me give you a piece of reality, mister." She removes his boxer, throwing it through the living room.

She smirks as they lock eyes, anticipation noticeable on Tobias's face. Of course, the moment he saw her at the deli was the moment where she completely gained control over him. Haunting his dreams, fantasies, and even in bed with other women she regularly popped up in his head, making stuff a lot better. But that doesn't stop him from one last desperate attempt to keep the facade up.

She encircles him with her soft hands, slowly moving up and down, while teasing his tip with a few small, fast licks.

"Nnnghh."

"What was that, Carrick?"

"Oh for fuck sake."

She moves her hand down, following the line under his tip firmly with her tongue. It makes his muscles tense, and he moves his ass slightly up as a deep grunt escapes his throat. “Ohhhhh, Yes Liz.”

Smirking she looks down at the man beneath her. "Now, If you want me to keep doing that, you better move that delicious ass of yours right now, T!"

He starts moving while muttering some swear words under his breath, while she keeps teasing him with her hands and tongue.

Her eyes twinkle and she puts on a naughty smile;“God Carrick, I’m going to have so much fun with you now we have established who is the one in charge.”

She leans in, one hand on the counter and the other one exploring his neck, down to his chest. Licking his lips, inviting his tongue to meet hers. He opens his mouth and lets her in. His hands slipping under her bra, softly teasing her nipples, drawing small moans from her mouth.

Without him noticing she grabs his drink off the counter and she gently pulls back. Their blues meet and she bites her lip. “Now, about that drink.”

His breath stops as soon as the golden liquid hits his chest. She pours it, bit by bit, between the gap in his abbs, slowly moving down to his belly button, her eyes never leaving his.

“Hughes, you’re unbelievable.”

“You better know it, T.”

She puts the glass down, moving her attention to his chest as she softly let her fingers drift through the scotch. She moves her finger to cover his full lips, kissing him softly after.

“Mmh... That’s the good stuff, Carrick.”

She moves her tongue, licking the liquid of his chest, feeling his muscles flex under her touch wherever she goes.

He looks at her, hypnotized, his breath fastening as she slowly moves further and further down. Skin getting more sensitive with every lick, bite and suck as she savors the scotch off him. Oh my god.

His muscles tense as she arrives at his belly button, and when there is no drop left, she moves her focus to his lower abdomen. She looks up, as she hears him moan, smiling at the sight of his glistering abs and the pleasure showing on his face.

He groans; “Oh God, you really are enjoying my body, don't you Hughes?”

“Every fucking part of it..”

"Good, 'cause it's yours to use from now on. Whenever you want, I'll even get you your special beeper for emergencies."

"I'll hold you onto that. Now... ready for some fun, Carrick?"

He smirks contently as she moves her head further down and starts teasing the top of his hardness again.

But then he realizes that it probably would take nothing more than a few sucks to release, given how worked up he already is.

And nothing was further from the truth. Without warning, she stopped teasing, taking his full length in her mouth. After a few seconds of settlement, she starts deep throating him, and before he gets the chance to protest it turns black before his eyes, pushing his head back and he releases in her mouth.

She teases him with a few more sucks, making sure that every drop of him gets savored while enjoying the feeling of his body trembling under her mouth. For a minute he lies on the counter, breathing hard. "For fuck sake, Hughes."

She shrugs with a sly smile "Oops, got a little bit carried away there."

He slowly starts to get regain his senses and he looks up to a smirking Liz, sticking out cheekily the tip of her tongue.

“But, damn, that tasted even better than the scotch T.”

He hides his face behind his hands to hide a satisfied smile at her bold words.

After just a few more deep breaths, he manages to collect himself and jumps off the counter. “Glad that you enjoyed that, Liz, but now it’s my turn.” He scoops her up from the counter and throws her over his shoulder without any effort. Oh, I’m taking back control now.

After a few satisfying smacks on her butt, he sits down on the bed, letting her slide down on his lap. His lips find hers and he starts to unhook her bra, throwing it into a corner. He takes one of her nipples in his mouth while teasing the other with his hand. Her head falls back as she starts to grind once again in his lap. “Oh, God Tobias I already feel you grow again.” She reaches out to stroke him, but to avoid losing control once again he stands up, grabbing her at her thighs, and he throws her onto the soft bed.

“No more touching me, until I’m done with you, Liz. That means AFTER two orgasms, I’m going to fuck your brains out. But now. You’re completely at my Mercy." She nods, biting her lip. "Good girl. Now, grab the headboard, and don’t let go.”

Her eyes start to glister at the commanding tone in his voice and she completely surrenders. Obediently she grabs the headboard.

“And Liz... Don’t make a sound, until I tell you to.”

She swallows and a hot shiver runs through her body, by hearing those words, setting her body on fire. Such a turn-on.

He rips her panties off in one tuck, drawing her in for a deep kiss, while teasing her entrance with his erection. He starts to rubs his dick against her clit. Taken by the urge to feel him closer she starts to shift her hips up, urging him to enter her. Without thinking she sighs between kisses. “God Carrick, I... I need you inside me. I need to feel you deep inside me.”

He immediately stops. “What was that? I believe I heard some sounds coming out of that delicious mouth of yours. Yeah, you want me inside you?”

Realizing that she spoke, her eyes snap open, sucking in a breath while waiting for Tobias to react.

“Three orgasms, it is now.” And without further notice, his lips crash against hers again. His hands firmly exploring her body before they find the place where he started tonight.

He wastes no time, knowing how worked up she was before. His thumb finds her clit, and he sees her biting her arm as he enters her with three fingers, suppressing a moan. God, that’s sexy. He catches the encouragement and starts to moves his fingers faster and faster while sucking on her swollen nipple, caressing her other boob with a firm squeeze.

She trembles, more and more under his touch, finding it harder and harder to keep her moans in. God, she wants to scream his name so badly.

Then he softly bites her nipple and a flick of pain runs through her body, turning quickly into pleasure as she tumbles over the edge, biting even harder in her shoulder, only intensifying her orgasm.

He smirks at her, impressed, but also totally captivated by the look on her face as she comes, shutters and shakes, by his doing. Yeah, I’m never going to get enough of this.

He gives her a few seconds to catch her breath and damn she breaths hard, releasing her arm from her teeth, leaving bite marks.

He gently moves up to guide both of her arms down, which are still clenching to the headboard. He kisses her softly as she opens her eyes to meet his. “You okay?”

She smiles softly and nods. “Good. Ready for me to taste you?” She mouths “Ohh God Yes” without making a sound.

They keep staring into each other’s eyes as the mood shifts 180 degrees. Tobias frowns at her as she takes his face in her hands, knowing very well how much she actually adored this man.

His eyes turn soft and he smiles at her. "You're amazing, you know that, Liz?"

"Show me."

Tobias moves in for a tender and long kiss, cupping her cheeks in his hands. Liz feels her heartbeat rising, now by the soft touch of this man. He covers her body with hers completely as they start to lose themselves in each other. Her hands drift over the back of his head, enjoying the tickling of his soft short hairs, before letting her fingertips drift over his bareback. He slowly undoes her hair and drapes it over the mattress. Their hands meet and fingers entwining. The pillows and sheets are long found on the ground. He drops soft kisses on her neck, murmuring "God, youre beautiful."

He gently lets go of her hands and starts moving, teasing his stubble against her sensitive skin on his way down, breathing in her warm scent on the way. He looks at her glistening clit and gives it a few quick licks.

She directly moves her hips a bit up and he realizes how sensitive she is.

“I can’t wait for you to scream my name, Hughes.” She smiles at the permission to make sounds again.

“Then make me, Carrick.”

He moves his hands up to her hips, pulling her softly towards the edge of the bed as he gets on his knees, laying her legs over his shoulder. He starts licking her softly and slowly, savoring her smell and fluids.

“I need more, T.” She softly grabs his head urging him to come closer. He smiles cheekily and pushes his head back up; “I’m sorry? I believe I missed two magic words?”

“More, PLEASE Carrick, give me more.”

"That's what I'm talking about."

He starts licking and kissing again, but still moving his tong teasingly slow and soft while looking cheekily up to her.

She looks down to meets his eye, and he gives her the sexiest smirk she has ever laid eyes on. “For god's sake Carrick, if you’re going to smirk like that every time you taste me..” He suddenly moves up the pace of his tongue, forcing her to stop talking midsentence. "Nnnngh."

“Yes? Then?” He smiles against her clit, back to teasing her.

“Now you're the one who is unbelievable, T."

"Don't tell me things I'm already aware of. Now, finish that sentence, Hughes."

She sighs, longing for more tongue. "We are going to need a private conversation like this at least two times a day.”

He keeps his smirking up; “Then that's settled” He pushes his head down and lets his tong flick expertly, fast, and firm, letting his fingers assist by moving in and out of her.

“Nnnnhhhhgggg… T..” Her hands grab the sheets and he lets his finger slip out of her, to pull her even closer, steadying her hips. He picks up pase, encouraged by the deep moans. She trembles more and more, urging to move her hips, but his stern grip keeps her in place. You’re not getting away, Hughes.

She starts to move her hands, looking for something to grab as the sheets are not enough to hold onto. Her hands find his head again.

“Fuuuuuuck Carrrrrriccck.”

Yes, that’s it.

She pulls up her knees, body shocking and sweating, and he feels how she comes with his mouth still on her. Seeing her tremble like that...

God, I can’t wait any longer.

“You taste so good, you know that Hughes. Here. Taste.” He kisses her slowly, his hands encircling the back of her neck to draw her even more in, his dick rubbing against her still sensitive pussy, causing her to keep shuttering her body from time to time.

“Are you ready? You've been such a good girl, so I will fuck you towards you’re third orgasm, Liz, don’t you worry.”

Still with her eyes closed, she nods and lets out a satisfied sigh, letting him lead her up on the bed again.

As he completely covers her body with his again he places his dick before her entrance. Theirs eyes meet, both filled with longing to finally get close. She softly moves her hands behind his neck, teasing him with her nails. Maintaining eye contact he slowly starts to move inside her, until his eyes roll back at the feeling of how tight she is.

Her breath enhances, and she smiles, enjoying the visible pleasure on his face. He keeps slowly moving against her until he fills her completely.

Her eyelids start to flicker as he slowly starts thrusting into her.

“God, you’re big, Carrick.” She matches the movement of her hips to his rhythm, moving her legs around his waist to encourage him to go deeper. His lips find hers as he picks up the pace until he is not able to hold his upper body up, with the pleasures running through his body.

He lets out a deep, almost animalistic moan; "So tight Liz, you're so tight."

Leaving her lips and he hides his face in her neck, sucking at her sensitive flesh, leaving his mark.

Her nails slide from his shoulders to his back and smiles against his ear. “Fuck, this is so much better than in the dreams I had about you... T, you fill me up perfectly.”

She feels how he starts to lose control, picking up his pace, more firm with his thrusts as she speaks.

His voice sounds low and gruff. “Ahhh... You've dreamt about me, Hughes? So what did I do to you in these dreams?”

With him putting more power in his thrusts, she feels how he is hitting the right spot over and over again and she moans. “O god yes, Tobias… You... you fucked me in the middle of the diagnostics room on the round table, the next day in the supplies closet, NHHHGGG, on fucking Ethan’s desk, when the rest was out for lunch.”

“Ohhhhh Yes Hughes.” He moves his hands between them, as he keeps thrusting harder and harder, faster and faster while massaging her clit.

Liz is unable to talk as she feels how her body is taken over by the pleasure, quickly rising from her toes to her head, closing her eyes and she certainly was not able to think straight anymore... “Youuu... You… yyy… test nnnnhg lab”

“What are you saying, Hughes?” He smirks, leaning on one arm looking at the woman crumbling to pieces under him. He tries to stall his orgasm, but it gets harder and harder at the sight of her losing her mind, combined with the sexy talk rolling over her swollen lips.

He takes her breasts in his mouth, murmuring “Come on baby, let go once more. Show me that beautiful look on your face.”

His words were enough to push her over the edge, he notices, leaving her breast and again hiding his head in the crook of her neck. Biting, sucking as she encourages his thrusting, drawing blood with her nails on his back.

“Fuuuuuuck yeah, Carrick.”

He feels her pussy contracting around him and lets out a deep groan. He wants to savor the feeling, but the damn release was so close, it was unfightable.

“I need you to fill me up, T. Please... I need you to come.”

He keeps thrusting, barely managing to hold it together as she keeps stumbling each time he slams into her. "Nhhhhhhgggg, Liz, God Liz."

She grabs his head out of her neck, to make him look up, straight in her sparkly, wanting eyes and he keeps thrusting into her, while barely able to hold his own body up while leaning on his hands.

“Fulfill the hunger, Carrick… still my appetite. ”

Holy fuck.

That was it, he feels how he is not able to fight it anymore and he releases, A deep groan escapes, filling her up, like as she wanted it.

His eyes rolling backward “Gnnnnnggg Hughes, for fuck sake…” He sinks through his arms and after a few more thrusts he holds still, both breathing hard, clenching onto each other. After a few minutes, he gives her a bunch of soft kisses on her forehead, before rolling to the side.

“You’re something else, Liz.” He gently grabs her arm, to place soft kisses on the bite mark.

She smiles, still out of breath. “You know, I expected more oooh Lara and ooooh Miss Croft.”

He snorts and she looks at him in surprise.

“You know what Hughes…” He moves his fingertips over her bare body, encircling her nipples before ending at her lips. He smiles softly and just stares at her in awe.

“Seriously, you’re not going to finish that sentence?”

“I’m sorry I got distracted. You know what it is... I lied to you that night we were drunk. You were my fantasy, but I couldn't just say that right. You are my colleague and I've never had the idea I could be something more until I saw the look on your face when you looked at me last week with my shirt off."

She sighs; "Well, It's already hard to hide it with your shirt on Carrick, but it appears to be a real-life mission impossible when you're standing bare-chested in front of me. It does weird things to my brains and body you know."

"Soooo, me suggesting to Ethan that the new work outfits should be shirtless is not an option?"

She giggles; "Oh no, you do that, please. As long as I get to watch when you ask him. Imagine the look on his face."

Tobias bites his lip at the thought; "True, though, I cannot imagine him saying no to a shirtless you...Miss Croft." He winks and pulls her close to his chest, softly caressing her arm.

"O God, I made a total fool out of myself didn't I?"

"Not at all. Never apologize for looking that delicious. Besides, she was my fantasy until you knocked her off her throne, Hughes."

"Oof, so I've drawn some bad blood there, or what?"

"Nah, actually you might have teamed up a few times.”

She laughs; "Well I'm always open for suggestions Carrick, so if you bump into her...never hurts to ask."

His eyes start to glister at her words. "I never dreamt of you being this naughty, Hughes."

"Is that right, Carrick? So, how did I actually do compared to fantasy Liz?"

He smirks “You’ve proven from our first kiss that reality can beat fantasy by a long shot.” He turns to his side to give her a sweet kiss on the lips.

"I don't think I dared to dream that kissing you would feel this good Liz."

Her eyes start to flutter a bit, relaxing at his words. "So I guess there will be a next time, ha?"

"For me, absolutely. I can't wait to get caught with you day after day, making out in the supply closets until they just give us our own, with our names on it, to have a little fun in."

She smiles softly, barely able to keep her eyes open, murmuring; "I would love that, Tobias"

He removes his arm gently from under her neck to get up. He grabs the blankets, covering her and he lifts her head gently to lay it onto a pillow.

"Mmh, thank you T."

He smiles and plants a kiss on her forehead as she gets comfortable, shifting around, moving on her side.

He returns to bed, drawing her in to spoon.

“So about that whole yoga and gymnastics. Care to show me tomorrow in the shower?”

She smiles gently with her eyes closed. “Absolutely. And after that, you might want to show me around in your apartment... I might have missed everything except for 'naked you' and the breakfast counter.”

He laughs and looks at her in all his tenderness. He closes his eyes and moves hides his nose in her hair, breathing in her warm scent, focussing on the sound of her breathing.

Murmuring on the brink of falling asleep. “Deal, Miss Hughes. Besides you can have anything you want from me, anywhere. Because it's very clear that I was never the one in control, and hell, I love it."

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

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

Short Stack -- Part 2

Here we go

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x Pro Hero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, alcohol, swearing from obvious sources, biting kink, double penetration, anal, unprotected sex, the boys being great at aftercare

Word Count: 4.6k

Author’s Note: Still not great at smut, but fuck it (pun very much intended). Fight scenes are hard to write, but oh well, I’ll get better with practice. Love you guys ~

Part 1 - Part 3

Enjoy!

You didn’t think accepting Bakugou’s challenge would get you in such deep shit. You regret challenging him. He’s terrifying. But here you are, and there’s no getting out of it.

The three of you were in the agency’s separate training facilities, an arena with different training spaces, much like UA High’s USJ, only the spaces were designed to take on quirks of all kinds without taking much damage, the buildings were solid blocks of concrete with fake painted windows. You were standing in the middle of a clearing, facing off against Bakugou in an all-out spar using your quirks. Kirishima was standing a few dozen feet away, watching the unfortunate turn of events.

All of you were in your hero costumes. While Bakugou had his gauntlets to help him enhance the usage of his quirk, you and Kirishima couldn’t really use support items to help you, because your quirks just weren’t combat-oriented quirks. So your costume was relatively simple, allowing as much movement as possible for hand-to-hand combat. Black leggings, black halter tank top, black combat boots, and a black domino mask a lot like the one Bakugou wears, minus the extra spikes. On patrol when you weren’t fighting, you wore a black corset that had a cape flowing out from the bottom, and when you needed to jump into action you’d store it away with your quirk. Why? Because you’d been advised to make your costume more recognizeable and distinguishable from civilian clothing.

Now, you hadn’t even bothered putting on the corset, and were waiting to start facing off against pro hero Ground Zero. This almost definitely won’t end very well for you, but you can’t just let him win, so you drop into your stance and wait, staring at the towering figure a few yards away, ready to take whatever he throws at you. You need to keep as far away from his palms as possible, because if you get caught by that quirk it’s all over. So you just wait for him to move so he can’t read your movements as easily, and you know it’ll work, because Bakugou Katsuki is NOT a patient man.

Without warning he throws his hands behind him and fires off his quirk, propelling himself forward with impossible speed. But you’re still faster. You charge and duck under him as he throws a punch, immediately standing and sprinting away. He uses a blast from his palm to redirect his momentum with pinpoint accuracy, and propels after you. Thanks to his noisy quirk, you know how far and how fast he’s coming at you, and this time instead of ducking, you materialize a capture weapon much like the now retired Eraserhead used to use.

Quickly, you spin around and face Ground Zero, and as he swings you wrap his wrist with the material and dig your feet into the ground. Using his already insane momentum, you swing him around and slam him into the nearest building. He sets off a blast from his palms as he collides with the concrete, bracing himself and attempting to soften the impact. It worked. He was perfectly fine. Pissed off, but fine. Pro hero Ground Zero is absolutely terrifying.

The capture weapon vanished, and you braced for another round. There was no way he’d launch at you again. You’d already dodged him twice, managing to take advantage of his offensive tactics. This time, he charged without the use of his quirk, and you read his movements like the words on a book. When he planted his left foot to jump and flip over your head, you dropped to the floor on your knees, your back flattening on the ground and your feet just outside your hips. Just as he reached down to set off a blast at your face, you latched a quirk-cancelling cuff onto his wrist. As he tumbled, not prepared to lose his quirk, you materialized the capture weapon again, and wrapped up Ground Zero before he could regain his balance, completely immobilizing him.

After a few long seconds of silence and heavy breathing, Kirishima burst into laughter, “OH MY GOD IT’S JUST LIKE AIZAWA-SENSEI!! DO YOU REMEMBER BAKUGOU?!” At that, Bakugou snapped out of his shocked state and bellowed out a yell rivaling his quirk’s blasts. Kirishima just laughed harder. After a few minutes of Bakugou yelling and Kirishima dying of laughter, everything calmed. You unwrapped Bakugou and when you uncuffed him, he lifted his hand and popped off his quirk uncomfortably close to your face. It made you tense a little, but didn’t scare you like he probably intended to.

When you returned to sit with Kirishima, he asked how you learned to use the weapon the famed Eraserhead would use. “Actually, I learned from Aizawa-Sensei himself. Because of my quirk, I need to focus on close combat. I needed to learn as many different fighting styles and methods of restraining as possible. I actually approached a friend of mine that went to UA like you two, and he said he wouldn’t teach me because he was still learning, so we both learned from Eraserhead.”

“You know Shinsou?” Kirishima asked. “Yeah, I’ve known him since middle school.” His response was absolutely ridiculous. “Wow, he knew a cutie like you and didn’t tell anyone? How greedy.” You dropped your eyes to the ground and blushed hard at what just came out of the redhead’s mouth. “Anyway, we should get going. The sun’s gonna set soon and I think we’ve all gotta patrol tomorrow,” you quickly changed the subject. Bakugou agreed that it was time to pack up and go, so you went your separate ways.

The next few weeks passed pretty similarly. A few low-level villains popping up on patrol, hitting the gym whenever you could, running into either Kirishima or Bakugou en route, and occasionally going over to drink with the duo. There was shift change and the three of you all had Sundays off, and you’d go drink at their place on Saturdays, stay the night, and spend the day doing whatever the three of you felt like doing.

It was fun having people in your life. But soon enough you were spiraling again. You were just waiting for them to betray you and leave you lonely again. So when they began to get a little more physical with you, and you liked it, your paranoia screamed at you to run before they did. And there was another emotion swirling around inside you. Something that rivaled the paranoia and fear.

You really liked being around Bakugou and Kirishima. In fact, you were always sad to part ways with them. You ended up thinking about them way more often than you felt you should, and that scared you. You knew you were getting attached, but you didn’t know just how far you’d fallen until the day you were forced to either face your feelings and let them run free, or drown in your paranoid, lonely life.

It’s been a couple months now that you’ve got to know the duo that is Ground Zero and Red Riot. It’s Saturday, and the three of you were drinking and talking. Kirishima learned a while ago to drink a lot slower just to be able to talk more instead of passing out a couple hours in. The atmosphere in the apartment was strange, though, and it wasn’t just from the alcohol. After being around the two, it became obvious that they were a little more than just roommates, seeing as they’d kiss around you now. Well, it was more Kirishima kissing Bakugou’s cheek and the blonde getting flustered. It was quite cute.

But that wasn’t the reason for the weird tension in the air tonight. But you couldn’t quite place it. The two were being flirty. Like, really REALLY flirty. Ever since you met them Kirishima was flirty, and Bakugou eventually threw in compliments that your outfit wasn’t terrible that day. Tonight though, as you all sat on the carpeted floor, Kirishima was laying it on thick, saying how beautiful you were and he always looked forward to seeing you, and a buzzed Bakugou was playing with your hair. At least, you thought he was buzzed. You couldn’t really tell.

You didn’t entirely mind the attention, you were extremely touch starved after all. But you were still wary about their intentions, your trust issues and paranoia preventing you from enjoying much of anything. Of course, the alcohol in your system brought down your defenses a little, and the part of you that was afraid of being abandoned dwindled down and drifted to the back of your mind.

After Kirishima was done gushing over you, he spread out and rested his head in your lap, and Bakugou put his head on your shoulder, still playing with your hair as his other hand wrapped around your waist from behind. A comfortable silence fell, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the warmth from the two bodies. You opened your eyes and looked down, expecting Kirishima to have fallen asleep, but his ruby eyes were looking straight back up at you.

Suddenly a gruff voice rumbled in your ear. “We really like you (y/l/n). And that’s saying a lot. I don’t like anybody.” Kirishima nodded his head in your lap, agreeing wholeheartedly with the blonde. Your walls came right back up, the paranoia coming back to bite you in the ass, and you let out a nervous chuckle. “I...I don’t think-” you were cut off by Bakugou shifting behind you, moving so he pressed your back into his chest and wrapped both his strong arms around your waist. “I know how you feel about people getting close, (y/l/n),” the blonde growled softly in your ear, “And we don’t expect you to just accept us out of the blue like this. But know that we’re willing to wait until you trust us with your heart.”

Bakugou shifted again and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into your neck and whispering the confession. “We’ll wait, princess.” “We’ve been waiting, little pebble,” Kirishima chimed. You tilted your head in confusion, and Kirishima answered the silent question. “We’ve liked you since a little bit after we met you. At first we just liked hanging around you cause you were fun. But then…” he trailed off, knowing he didn’t have to say the rest.

You’d always prided yourself on your ability to read people. But now you were cursing your ability. Because you could read these two from the beginning, and you knew they’d never lie or deceive anyone. You knew from the second Bakugou judged your tiny figure aloud and Kirishima rolled over laughing at his partner’s defeat that they were good people. People you wanted in your life. People you could be safe with. You knew you could let your walls down around them, and they wouldn’t dream of hurting you. You knew, from the start, you’d fall madly in love with them.

And they fell for you too.

And you were terrified.

Unrealistic and idiotic thoughts swirled in your head. What if they stop liking me later? What if I actually read them wrong? What if I end up hurting them? What-

Your thoughts were cut short. You had started to spiral, and you’d already zoned out and didn’t notice the two move around you. But now you were all on the couch, you were straddling Bakugou’s lap, face in his chest, and Kirishima was behind you, his arms hooked around both you and the blonde. What snapped you from your thoughts wasn’t the movement, but the lips that took purchase on either side of your neck.

The two men were peppering soft, gentle, comforting kisses along your neck and shoulders. Bakugou’s voice rumbled in your left ear, “It’s okay, princess. We’d never hurt you,” Kirishima’s voice in your right, “It’ll be okay little pebble, we can keep you safe.” You melted in their arms, and the fear you felt began to ebb away with each touch from the males. They made you feel so safe. Secure. Loved. You really could let your walls fall around them. They’d take your broken and abandoned brick house and build it into a castle. And for the first time in a long time, you let people in.

You nodded against Bakugou’s chest, beginning to tear up at the thought of finally getting close to someone and knowing you wouldn’t regret it. “I...I like you too. Both of you.” Suddenly their movements stopped. Bakugou sat up and looked at you, and Kirishima leaned around to look at you, both of them wide-eyed and frozen, like deer in headlights. “Are you serious little pebble? You really like us?” You nodded quickly at the redhead, who beamed with a wide smile, and Bakugou just dove back into your neck, placing quick pecks on every inch of skin he could find. You giggled at the sensation. “Bakugou it tickles!” He froze, and slowly rose from your neck with a devious and mischievous smirk on his lips. Your eyes grew wide, “Don’t even think about it!” Too late. Kirishima jumped backward and pulled you down on the couch, pinning your arms next to your head, your legs trapped under your thighs so you couldn’t kick.

Bakugou immediately attacked your belly with his fingers, making you squeal and squirm. After relentless torture, he paused his attack, and you breathed a little bit, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you struggled to get oxygen back into your lungs. The peace didn’t last, though. Bakugou pulled up your shirt, exposing your belly, leaned down, and blew raspberries into your stomach, making you erupt in giggles and squeals all over again.

When you finally had enough and desperately needed to breathe, you materialized your wallet above Bakugou’s head and it dropped, making him jump and freeze. In between giggles you said, “That was me. I need to breathe. Give me a minute.” The two ceased their attack and let you go so you could get comfortable and breathe. Bakugou kept looking at you in confusion, and Kirishima asked the question that was probably on his mind. “How’d you drop your wallet on his head? Your hands were pinned! I had them pinned!” You giggled a little, realizing that they thought you could only materialize things into your hands. “I can materialize anything that I store anywhere I look. It doesn’t need to be in my hand,” you say with a small smile.

“But at the bar, you had your hand out.” Kirishima pointed out. “Yes, I did. Just to get your attention in the right place. Cause who would notice another set of keys suddenly appearing in the middle of the table if nobody was looking?” Kirishima nodded at your explanation. Then his eyes went wide, “So can you look at something and store it?” Again, you giggled, but this time it was from his slightly surprised, slightly excited expression.

You turned your head to the coffee table, two pairs of red eyes following your gaze. A coaster vanished from the table, and you looked above Bakugou’s head. Again their eyes followed, but as Bakugou looked up, it materialized and sat flat on his forehead. Before he could react, it vanished again, and appeared in your hand, before vanishing again and reappearing back on the coffee table.

“I try to keep from using it too much, because if it ever becomes useful in battle I’d like to keep it from being figured out. That, and I used to get accused a lot for stealing, so I just kinda stopped using it like that.” Kirishima had the biggest grin on his face. “That’s so freaking cool! Right Bakugou?” The blonde only shrugged with a small ‘eh’. Which, you learned, meant he agreed. After a couple minutes of talking about how you could use your quirk, you leaned back on the couch, took a deep breath, and glanced at the clock. It was currently 2am. That was fine, though, since you were all off and you could sleep in.

As you closed your eyes and relaxed, a nice silence filled the air. Though that silence was soon filled by the sound of fabric shifting and the couch dipping. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know that the two were now sitting much closer to you. You could feel their body heat at your sides. So it didn’t scare you and you didn’t jump when you felt two large hands come down on each of your thighs. It did, however, surprise you when you felt their weight shift again and felt their mouths on the sides of your neck again, this time their tongues lapping at your skin.

It made you gasp as your eyes shot open, your body reacting instantly to the feeling. Your chest heaved as they sucked marks onto your neck, your legs squeezing together involuntarily. The two pulled away from you, their pupils blown wide with lust taking in your pleasured expression. You were thankful to whatever deity was looking out for you, because you knew exactly what they wanted, and you wanted it just as bad. You had rid yourself of your clothing so fast the two men were confused for a second before they realized you’d used your quirk.

Without another second, you’d taken off both their shirts and jeans and dropped them in the corner of the room with your quirk, and this time they just raked their eyes down your body, taking in every bit of exposed skin. It didn’t take long for them to reposition. Now you were straddling Kirishima, and Bakugou was behind you, returning to the task of leaving marks on your body. Bakugou was moving down your back, sucking bruises down your spine and Kirishima was nipping at the plush skin on your chest, just under your collarbone.

Soon you were a whimpering mess, gasping and mewling with every kiss they placed against your skin. When Kirishima got more intense with the bites, you only got louder, and he took notice. He latched his mouth onto your shoulder and bit down, slowly increasing the pressure, making you let out a soft moan. His eyes widened a little when you told him to bite harder. He obliged and bit down, just barely breaking the skin on your shoulder, and you moaned out loud. Bakugou stopped behind you and came up to whisper in your ear.

“You like biting princess?” he growled and nipped the shell of your ear. You nodded, desperate to feel the pain again. You brought your hand up and tapped the junction between your neck and shoulder, right at the top of your back where you could feel a muscle twitch. “Right here. Please,” you whined, knowing that was the most sensitive spot on your neck. Kirishima leaned over and licked where you tapped, “Here pebble?” You nodded furiously, and before you could open your mouth to beg again, his sharp teeth sank into your neck. You nearly screamed out a moan, your voice mixed with pain and pleasure as you felt drops of blood glide down your back.

As quickly as he was there, Kirishima let go and licked at the wound he’d inflicted, soothing it gently. You didn’t notice Bakugou’s absence until he came back and wiped the blood away with a damp cloth and kissed the skin around the bite. You were delirious with pleasure, just from that one bite, and you could feel your arousal soaking your panties. Bakugou took no time at all to make that discovery, trailing his thick fingers over your clothed pussy. “Fuck, Ei, she’s soaked. So wet for us already little princess.”

You couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening as you were carried to a bed. You didn’t register whose bed, but that didn’t really matter. You were put down on your back, two undeniably stunning men looking at you like you were the last meal on the planet. You were so out of it you didn’t quite realize they’d already stripped you of your bra and panties, and Bakugou was flat on his stomach, blowing hot breaths onto your exposed folds. The sensation made you jolt, and you whined wanting more. Kirishima kneaded your breasts, pulling a pert nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue over it before releasing it with a ‘pop’ and moving to repeat with the other, occasionally moving to your collarbone and leaving bites along your shoulders.

Bakugou lapped at your entrance, groaning from your sweet taste. He slipped the pink muscle into you, making you squirm at the feeling as he moved it around. He moved up, placing kitten licks over your clit as he slipped a thick finger into your heated core. You let out a soft moan as he slipped a second finger into you, curling them up to strike at the spongy spot inside you. It made you gasp sharply, and he smirked, knowing he’d just found what he was looking for.

He moved his fingers faster inside you, plunging them deeper and curling them up harder and faster, making you clench around him. A coil built up in your belly, tightening the more Bakugou moved his fingers. “I can feel you gripping me, princess. Cum for me,” he said, and attached his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bundle. That was all you needed for that coil to snap, and your back arched off the bed, your legs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

Bakugou kept his ministrations, letting you ride out your high. Once you were panting back down on the bed, the two shifted positions once again. Bakugou behind you, holding you up against his solid chest, and Kirishima in front of you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lined up his cock with your entrance. You didn’t even know when they’d gotten naked themselves. But as you got a good look at his cock, your eyes widened and your breath hitched. He was huge. Thick and long, a prominent vein running underneath from the base all the way up to his head, already dripping precum.

“Like what you see pebble? Don’t worry I’ll go slow, I know I’m not small. You ready?” he asked gently, and you nodded. He slid into you, hissing at how your walls clenched around him. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight,” he said as he slowly sheathed his cock, inching his way all the way inside you. You were mewling and moaning, loving the way he’s stretching you, your hands reaching up and looping around Bakugou’s neck behind you to keep you anchored. When Kirishima finally bottomed out, you were both panting hard, and he leaned down and kissed your forehead. “You’re doing so well baby. I’m gonna start moving okay?” You nodded, unable to form coherent words.

As he pulled out, you let out a high pitched moan, and he began to pump in and out of your dripping pussy. It felt amazing, but you desperately needed more. “Ki-Kiri- please, I n-need -- hah~” “It’s Eijiro, baby. Call me Eijiro,” he smiled softly before setting a brutal pace, making you moan out his name. A familiar coil tugged inside you, and you wanted so bad to be sent over the edge. Sensing your need, Bakugou traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You open your mouth, sucking and licking at his fingers. He pulls them out and reaches down to rub tight, precise circles on your clit. The tension in your belly snaps and you’re falling apart on Eijiro’s cock, mewling out his name while he keeps slamming into you.

As you’re coming down from your second orgasm, he slows and stills inside you, and pulls you off Bakugou into his chest. You feel the bed dip as the blonde repositions behind you. You turn your head to watch as he brings his fingers into his mouth, lubricating them with his saliva, and reaches down to prod at your puckered hole. His gruff voice reaches your ear in a whisper, “Relax for me princess.” He pushes one thick finger past the tight ring of muscle, and you mewl at the weird feeling, and as he pushes another in, you’re hissing at the sting.

He’s scissoring and curling his fingers in your ass, stretching you out to prepare you for his own cock. It takes a minute for the sting to subside. When he feels you relax, he spits on his cock and strokes with his other hand, making sure to slick his entire length. He removes his fingers and pushes the head of his cock into you, and you let out a whine from both the pain and the need for him to fill you up. Slowly, he’s sinking further into you with shallow thrusts, inching his way in until he bottoms out inside you. Eijiro moves inside you again and you’re gasping and clawing at his back.

As Eijiro slides his cock back into your pussy, Bakugou pulls out, and they’re moving back and forth in sync at a steady pace. You throw your head back against the blonde’s shoulder and let your moans and mewls slip out of you incoherently. “KATSUKI!!” you scream out when he suddenly snaps his hips up, slamming his cock into you. Eijiro follows suit, and the two set a bruising pace, rutting their hips up into you. You don’t even notice the pressure building in your abdomen until you’re spraying clear liquid over both of them, your body shaking from your third orgasm and overstimulation, and their hips begin to sputter, their pace becoming more erratic.

Eijiro is grunting into your ear, “I need to cum baby, where do you want me?”. You lace your fingers into each man’s hair, pulling them so you’re sure both can hear you. “Fill me up, fill me with your cum! Please fill me up!” At that, both men clamp their teeth down on your shoulders, pounding into you, and you’re screaming their names as they pump you full, painting your insides white.

All three of you are panting hard, trying to catch your breaths. Their cocks are still inside you, softening slowly, their seed dripping out of your holes. Katsuki is the first to move. He grabs the wet cloth from earlier as Eijiro puts you down on the bed. The blonde begins to clean your aching body, wiping down your legs and shoulders, cleaning off the cum and any blood that spilled from the bites they gave you. Katsuki finishes, tossing the cloth to the corner of the room, and Eijiro returns with a glass of water. He pulls you up to sit and sip from the glass as he holds it up to your mouth.

They take sips of the water themselves, and Katsuki leaves the room. Eijiro pulls you and tells you to sit up, and he lays down on his stomach next to you, laying his head on your lap. The position gives you a good look at his back, and your eyes widened at the sight. His upper back was marred with welts, little droplets of blood just barely seeping out, and you realized you did that, though you didn’t think you’d been scratching him all that hard. Soon Katsuki came back and cleaned up Eijiro’s back and spread ointment on both his scratches and your bites.

Once he was done, he put the ointment on the bedside table and the three of you curled up in bed with you squished between them once again. Your eyelids feel heavy, and as you feel sleep tugging at your mind, you let out a small chuckle, “If I can’t walk when I wake up, I’m gonna kill both of you,” and you drift into a deep sleep.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou bnha #kiribaku x reader

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years

Text

Training Secession

Summary:

You finally get your boyfriend Shouta Aizawa all to yourself. What else were you supposed to do today besides teasing him relentlessly?

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhed x Reader

Contents: teasing, finger fucking, slight BDSM, restraint without handcuffs/rope, spanking. Mild fluff

It wasn’t often that you got Shouta all to yourself. Between teaching and working as a pro-hero, you saw little of your boyfriend. It didn’t help matters that you also worked as a pro from time to time, but your quirk wasn’t nearly useful or impressive. Shouta never pointed out the noticeable difference in your power levels. You admitted that he took things too seriously sometimes, and you wished he’d lighten up, even just a little. Still, waking up next to him was the best thing in the world as far as you were concerned. It was pure bliss to be able to wake up next to him.

You glanced at the clock. It wasn’t early in the morning. However, you wondered if you should let him sleep a bit more. When you peeled your eyes open, you saw his hair tousled around his pillow.

You sat up a little to get a better view. Shouta slept like a rock, unable to hear giggling at his snoring. You took a lock of his hair and twirled it around your finger. Surprisingly, and despite rumors, he took care of it. Of course, you insisted that he use your conditioner and it worked wonders. It was much nicer to run your fingers through while you two were fooling around in bed.

You checked to make sure he was still sleeping. Shouta snored like a fat cat. His hair slipped through your fingers as you laid down again. You were rarely the big spoon, so you liked being able to hug him, even if your arms weren’t nearly big enough to wrap around him properly. You gave him a good squeeze. Shouta shifted, and you stilled your movements. But then, you had a naughty idea.

You brought your hands to his shoulders. You kneaded his shoulder blades with your palms until you heard him groan.

“What time is it?” He asked.

“About nine,” you answered.

You continued to knead the muscles in his back and shoulders. You stopped for a minute just to see what he would do. You smiled cheekily when he turned with that grumpy look on his face.

“Did I tell you to stop?”

“Okay, Mister Grumpy Gills. But you’re going to have to get on your stomach.”

Shouta rolled over at your request. You straddled his hips and sat on his lower back while you massaged his shoulders. There were kinks galore that the man never bothered to get rubbed out. He worked himself to death and didn’t think about himself. On the one hand, it was a quality you could admire. On the other hand, it made the relationship much harder for you since your boyfriend didn’t like to take of himself. Which meant you could spoil him whenever you wanted.

“Goddammit, Shouta. You’ve got kinks in your kinks. What the hell are you doing all day?”

He only groaned into the pillow. You continued working at the knots the best you could. Truth be told, you had no idea what you’re doing. Let’s be honest, you did it mostly because you wanted to feel up those muscles. The first time you saw Shouta undressed, your jaw dropped to the floor. Beneath his dark hero’s costume and capture weapon, you had no idea about the heat your man was packing underneath all that. Every time you could get him to take off his shirt was extra time to get your hands on him and his muscles.

Whether or not he knew about your fascination with his well-built form, Shouta didn’t shame you for it. Hey, if he got a free massage out of it too, you could put your hands on him any time you wanted.

“Those kids are going to kill you one of these days, right? Maybe not in a villain attack, but just stressing you out.”

“You have no idea.”

Shouta let you go on for a few more minutes. He rolled over much to your disappointment. With you still straddling him, Shouta lifted the both of you off the bed. He secured your legs around his waist and made sure that your arms were wrapped firmly around his neck. He kissed you. For a second, you thought he was going to toss you back into bed or slam you into the nearest wall. You were mildly disappointed that he took you into the kitchen. Putting you down, your hands lingered on him as you ran your hands down his arms.

“Ah, Shouta,” you whined. You pouted.

Shouta put an end to that real quick with a kiss and pushed you against the fridge. His tongue distracted you long enough for his teeth to catch your bottom lip. Shouta gave a little tug, not much, and never to hurt you. When you left you against the fridge, you were panting. Shouta turned on the oven and started heating some eggs. He gave you a sideways glance that said more than words could ever hope to. If you pressed your luck, you’d find yourself bent over the kitchen counter again.

You didn’t pout as you helped him with breakfast. Mornings with Shouta were rare but full of moments that showed him the side you often see in him while you were out in public. He was still reserved and no-sense, but when it was just the two of you together, he could be sweeter. If his class ever saw him in the matching couple’s pajamas you bought for each other last Christmas, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. As much as you wanted him, being able to make breakfast and sit at the same table was the perfect way to start today.

However, it was hard for you to keep your hands to yourself. Shouta knew about your slight kink for feeling up his muscles or his body in general. You were one of the few people who got to see it. You felt privileged. So when your hand wandered down his back and took up position on his ass, you couldn’t help but give a little squeeze. Naturally, he did the same thing to you. His hand was much bigger than yours, and even his hands were stronger. When he grabbed something of yours, he made sure you’d feel it hours after his hands left you. He firmly grasped your cheek with twice as much power as you’d done to him.

“I can give as good I get, little lady. Don’t tempt me,” said Shouta next to your ear.

You grew red in the face, but you liked it. If you heard anyone calling your Shouta a submissive, you could show them the bruises on your ass to confirm the contrary.

Even on vacation days, Shouta didn’t rest for a minute. He hung around you until after lunch before he excused himself. He was going to work out for a while. You huffed at the man’s persistence on working even while on holiday. You didn’t feel like walking to the other side of the house where you knew Shouta would be working out. Despite your more powerful instinct to follow and watch him build up a sweat that glistened on his skin, you prowled through your small library of books on the shelf. Guests could tell which books belonged to whom. Shouta owned a few works of fiction, but he was mostly interested in more practical knowledge. Your shelves were dedicated to romance and some cleverly hidden erotica. What? You were an adult, and so was Shouta and all your friends. You had nothing to be ashamed about. Out of boredom, you picked a random novel and took it with you back to the couch. You vaguely remember the plot, so you skip ahead to the sexy bits.

About a couple chapters in and you were rubbing your thighs together. It grew harder for you to finish reading even a passage knowing that Shouta was somewhere down the hall working out.

"'His lips caressed her moistened lips. He nestled between her legs and kissed each thigh before returning to her core. She trembled as he kissed her there, lashing his tongue against her swollen clit. Her back arched upwards. She felt his bruising hands grasp her hips to keep her from moving away. His greedy mouth tasted the dew and suckled at its source. His tongue laved the outside of her walls, testing her waters, so to speak.

“M-Milord…” The serving maid blushed like a rose. Her petals began to weep as she felt his tongue dive into the most secret part of her.'"

You toss the book aside. Quite literally. You don’t see where it lands as you’re preoccupied with the heat between your legs. You leave the living room and go off to find Shouta. Sure enough, you saw him in the midst of his push-ups. You didn’t dare disturb his counting but stood in the doorway. You licked your lips and gnawed a bit at them. You watched the sweat trickle over his skin, still unaware of your presence. For now.

He looked good with his hair pulled back. You didn’t know why, and you didn’t ask questions. Shouta eventually caught onto your peeping Tom behavior, though he said nothing. You couldn’t tell for sure, but you’d swear up and down that a smirk tugged at his lips. You had to take a seat on the floor before you dripped.

At one point, Shouta stopped to look at you. He almost sneered at the playful look on your face. He probably suspected that you had something dastardly planned. You pretended not to have an evil thought in your brain, all the while wanting nothing more than to tackle him and ride his cock till kingdom come. Pun very much intended.

“Come here. If you’re going to stare, you might as well do something useful with your day.”

The scenario played out in your head. You’d get him riled up to the point where Shouta would have no other choice than to pin you on the mat and have his way with you. It was unfortunate that wasn’t the game he was playing today. Shouta never gave you the chance to tease him. He was much more interested in kicking your ass in a few sparring rounds. Being built stronger and having more experience than you in the field, it was all but natural that he had you panting for breath for all the wrong reasons. You figured this out too late when he had you smooshed against the mat, face first, and your arms pinned against your back. Other than his hands on your wrists, he wasn’t touching you in the way you wanted him to. Now you were horny and cranky.

“Is that all you got?”

You couldn’t stand that smug look on his face right now. You immediately kicked up your legs and threw yourself back. Shouta didn’t plan for you to be so reckless and fell with you. You climbed on top of him, pinning his wrists above his head.

“How you like it, huh?” You mimicked his smirk.

Shouta had you pinned on your back in no time at all. His hair came loose from the elastic band holding it together, blocking your view of anything else but him. Being stronger than you, moving your hands out of his grasp was easier said than done. Before you could kick him, Shouta shoved his knee between your legs. At this point, you were sensitive enough that his knee against your core was enough to make you moan.

“You’ve been needy all day,” said Shouta.

“Maybe I am? So what? What ‘cha gonna do about it?”

You teased him with a kitten lick on his nose of all places. In your defense, that was the only place you could reach.

Shouta tensed for a moment. He took his time deciding what to do with you. The moment he did, you knew you were in for it. Shouta released your hands, but not for long. He stood up and admired you briefly as he stood over you. You wore sweatpants and a tank top, no bra. Your top was thin enough to see your nipples peeking through. You couldn’t stop the shudder rolling through you as you watched him lick his lips. You tried to get up on your own only for Shouta’s hands to find your waist, throw you unto his shoulder, and carry you like that. His hand held you tight.

“S-Shouta!” You laughed and playfully kicked him in the ribs. Only playful, you didn’t mean any harm.

All your play-fighting did was rouse him more. His free hand swatted you on the back of your thighs, stopping you from further fake protesting. He dragged you back the bedroom like a caveman—minus the hairpulling cliché—and you loved every second of it. The world spun for a second after he dumped you on the bed. He let you sit up long enough to get rid of your useless top. Once it was gone, you were on your back and lifting your hips so he could take off your pants too. You smirked when he found your little surprise. Shouta’s eyes widened.

“You…didn’t put on underwear today?”

“What of it?” Your smugness vanished when he crammed two fingers at once inside you.

“Is that you’ve been teasing me all morning? You wanted to show me how much you wanted it?”

His fingers plunged inside you fast and hard. His other hand gathered both your wrists and pinned them above your head on the pillow. Shouta was a through man; you could count on him to get the job done. You should have known better than to tempt him, yet you couldn’t help yourself. Only you got to see the kind of face he was making while finger fucking you.

“S-Shouta!” You shivered around his fingers. Shifting your weight didn’t help either. He just caged your legs so you couldn’t move.

“Mmm?” He hummed. “I thought you wanted to be teased. I told you earlier, I give as good as I get.”

“Please,” you whined.

“Please, what? Give me a good reason to let you come.”

“I’ll. I’ll do anything, please! I need you…I need you so bad right now.”

He curled his fingers inside you and sped up. You thrashed around, but the moment your eyes found Shouta’s, you became very, very still. His face hovered above yours as he watched your every move. Your juices sloshed around as he pumped wildly. Your backed arched off the bed as you came around him. Once you came down from your high, Shouta wiped your forehead. However, if you thought you were done, you couldn’t get more wrong. His hands tangled in your hair and pulled your head back.

“Open,” he said, upholding the fingers that just finished you.

You obediently opened your mouth and suckled on him, tasting yourself. Shouta pumped his fingers deep inside until he reached your gag reflex. He pulled them out quickly, leaving behind a string of your saliva in their wake. His tongue tentatively lapped at his fingers.

“Do you want more?” His gaze never broke away from yours.

You glanced at his hand, which thumbed the hem of his sweatpants. Looking back up at your boyfriend, you nodded.

“Greedy girl.” Shouta took off his tank top that had his sweat running down the front by this point. He tossed it over his shoulder and chucked off his sweatpants.

You hadn’t been able to notice before because your view had otherwise been blocked. Shouta sported a monster of an erection, and it was all for you. You were still seeping wet when you plugged you up. Shouta pulled you onto your side. He wrapped your legs around his hip and trapped your hands above your head once more.

“Would…you…say you’ve been…a good girl today?” Shouta asked while drilling you.

You didn’t have a thought in your brain. This angle made you dizzy, too dizzy to think of anything other than Shouta’s cock. You couldn’t form syllables if you tried.

“I think …you’ve been rotten. Do you think…a bad girl like you…deserves my cock?”

Shouta was nestled deep inside you. This was your favorite position for a reason, and he was using it against you.

“P-please, Shouta! Don’t stop!”

“And why shouldn’t I?” He pulled almost all the way out. “You’ve been a fucking tease since we woke up this morning. Didn’t think I’d noticed how you kept getting your hands all over me?”

Shouta thrust a few more times, then stopped again. “Have you anything to say? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself right now?” He went back to pounding you. “All you…had to do…was beg for it. Instead, you tease me…walking around without panties. Trying to…get my attention like the fucking cock-hungry, needy girl…you are.”

He flipped you onto your stomach. Your hands were against your back. Unable to resist him, your legs were shoved open wider for him to inspect your sopping cunt. You screamed into the mattress when you felt the first swat of his hand on your ass. You were stone-cold sober after four more. Tears bubbled in your eyes.

“Shouta!”

He was inside you again. His pounding was more furious than before. Your ears were filled with the sound of wet skin slapping against skin and his grunting. His hands left your wrists in favor of groping your breasts. His sweat drenched your back, and you felt his hot breath in your ear. Shouta ground his hips into yours.

“Fucking tease. Tell me…tell me when you want to be fucked, so I don’t have to punish you. Unless you like this shit?” He tweaked your nipples.

You screamed. You could no longer tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

“Such a needy girl,” said Shouta. He straightened up.

He let your arms fall where they may. Your hands tightened around the sheets, clenching and unclenching, depending on how hard Shouta gave it to you. His grip moved back to your hips, where you were firmly rutted against him.

“Don’t you dare cum before I do. That’s your punishment.” He growled before smacking your thigh.

He was asking something almost impossible for you. You wracked your brain for anything to keep your mind off of orgasming right then and there. Shouta never moved with reckless abandon; he loved to be lost in you. His movements were always precise, calculated, and sure to drive you up the wall. His cock was reaching deep within you to the point where you lost all sense. You could feel nothing but him moving inside you, driving in and out.

“Stop clenching if you don’t want to come before I do.” He smacked your ass this time. “Next time, I’ll slap your needy cunt since you enjoy punishment that much.”

You took his threat seriously. You tried to think of anything to break you out of the moment, for now, to stave off coming. Frog legs. Midnight’s cooking. Paperwork….

Suddenly, a warmth washed over you. Shouta’s hands flexed on your hips. He grunted as he unleashed himself. You screamed and clenched around him. His cum filled you deep inside. You couldn’t stop crying as he filled you up. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You two remained in that position for some time. When Shouta finally pulled out, you groaned aloud. The absence of him left you wanting more, and you felt hollow inside. Shouta tried not to smother you with his weight. He moved onto his side and did the same to you so that he could look you in the eye. You had your eyes closed so you could only feel his hands moving your hair out of your sweaty face.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

You meekly nodded your head. Shouta didn’t mention the fact that you technically disobeyed him by finishing at the same time. He kissed your forehead nevertheless.

“I’m going to draw us a bath. You sit tight, okay?”

Again, you nodded. Shouta left you in that blissed-out state. From across the hall, you could hear the water running. You smiled to yourself; you should wear panties less often.

If you’d like to see more content like this, please consider going to my AO3 here

#my hero academia #mha #mha fanfiction #mha smut #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa #reader fic #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #Aizawa/Eraserhead #Eraserhead x Reader #minors begone

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colorseeingchick · 4 years

Text

Oh Baby! A Series (Tsukishima x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You and Tsukishima have been together for years- and pranking each other the whole way through. But what happens when one prank on Tsukki turns out to be a prank on you?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy, fluff

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: This is my first fic! I hope you guys like it :)

“This was the best you could do? Really?” You watch in horror as Tsukishima Kei, your husband of 5 years, holds the positive pregnancy test in his hand, a smug expression plastered across his face.

Fuck.

“Babe, this is like the oldest trick in the book. I’m pretty offended that you thought that this would fool me, of all things.” He shakes his head slowly and puts the test back in the bathroom drawer where you (thought you) had hidden it away from his sight.

You stand there, processing the scenario as it had just played out before you. But that clearly wasn’t enough to sort out how genuinely screwed (ha pun intended) you were.

How exactly did you end up here again?

Tsukki had been pranking and roasting you for 12 years now- 1 year as your classmate, 1 year as your friend, 5 years as your boyfriend, and 5 as your husband. Yeah, your high school sweetheart was this sarcastic four-eyes. You were simple to read and gave theatrical reactions which perpetually egged him on to keep messing with you, and eventually led to him developing feelings for you. Despite how annoyed you were by him at first as well, you soon found yourself loving his quick wit and taunting personality. Though the roasts were intense, the pranks were always light. Tsukki made an effort to never push serious or sensitive topics, and he would NEVER try to pull anything when you were in a bad mood. The pranks went both ways as well- and you never felt more accomplished than when you managed to catch your clever boyfriend off guard. Teasing was a staple of your relationship and both of you loved it. But the jokes sometimes had you both a bit too on guard. When Tsukki proposed to you, you thought he was just pulling a more elaborate prank than usual (which led to you initially rejecting him AND causing a hell of a lot of confusion/fear/panic for Tsukishima...until the jokes were clearly set aside. At that point you JOYOUSLY accepted the ring from him, but that’s a story for another day). Looking back on it, you always loved lecturing him on how it was his fault for always playing tricks on you, and that he can’t blame you for not believing him right away.

But OH! How the tables have turned.

5 years into your marriage, and the pranks haven’t gone anywhere. However, Tsukki made a “New Years Resolution” to make fun of you more than he had in previous years [Read: Tsukki thinks New Years Resolutions are FAKE NEWS and has made a dumb one to mock the concept]. But considering it was meant to be a parody, he was pretty doing a damn good job of teasing you more than you had ever experienced. Your favorite mug *magically* ended up in the highest cabinet possible on a frequent basis, pieces of your strawberry shortcake would disappear soon after being frosted, and there were plenty of jump scares (which Tsukki went through the effort of recording every time). By the time March rolled around, you were VERY riled up (mind you, at no point had you ever actually attempted to tell Tsukki to stop) and promised Tsukki that you were going to pull the GREATEST prank in the history of your relationship as your grand move of revenge. You made an effort to remind him on a daily basis after that point, and both of your competitive natures came out.

It was about three weeks after your initial declaration of revenge that you realized your period was quite overdue and morning sickness was setting in. You logically decided to take a pregnancy test. Low and behold, the test came back positive!

You had known that Tsukishima was ready for children for quite some time now, honestly. He had mentioned it a few times, but you hadn’t felt ready or prepared to be a mom just yet. The man could read you like a book, so seeing distress or discomfort come up when he mentioned it- he would never want to make you feel pressured to have a baby. But after seeing the test, thinking about it (for a good while), and reflecting on your relationship and where you were in life, you felt like you were properly ready to be a mom. All that was left was for you to tell the dad-to-be. But seeing as you two were in a pranking WAR, you figured the timing wasn’t quite ideal just yet. Which is why you decided to hide the test and tell him after April 1st, as to prevent him from assuming you were pulling your grand prank with the pregnancy test.

Never did you expect him to FIND the test on April Fools itself. If he had found it the days before, it would have been better than him finding it today. The one event you were trying to avoid was the only event to occur. As of right now, the world is playing a big prank on you. Though you definitely weren’t laughing.

And I was ACTUALLY going to do the prank today, too! Ughh. You slide down your bathroom wall, contemplating where to even go with this. You could go through with your real prank, but at this point it felt excessively stupid in comparison to everything else going on. Right now, the priority was telling Tsukki the truth. You get up and rush downstairs, to where Tsukki was sitting on the couch, book in hand.

“Kei, we need to talk.” You plop down next to him, casually placing one of your legs on top of his lap.

He closes the book and tosses you one of his classic smirks, side eye and all. “Yes, Y/N?”

“Kei... I’m…” You grab his hand, “I’m actually pregnant.”

He stares into your eyes, expression neutral. Meanwhile, your eyes dig daggers into him, as to say “I’m being DEAD serious you have to believe me or else.”

He blinks a couple of times, smiles, and then raises the hand you put on top of his, sweetly kissing right below your knuckles.

“I commend you for trying to rescue your prank, but you’re not gonna fool me like that.” He squeezes your hand before getting up and walking away to the kitchen, leaving you in absolute shock on the couch. He doesn’t believe me. Not even a little bit.

Fuck.

As the day goes on, you get more and more desperate to try and convince him of how you actually were now carrying his baby. And the more you try, the more he rejects the idea. Your last ditch effort is during dinner, when you make pancakes (breakfast for dinner was a Saturday specialty for you two) and you spell out “I have your CHILD” with chocolate chips on top of his stack.

“You realize how out of context, this could be read a VERY different way, right?” He would have been fed up with how persistent you were being, if it wasn’t for how creative you were being about it. So instead, he was just thoroughly amused.

You, on the other hand, are far from amused. Desperate, hopeless, and VERY irritated at the blond beanpole you called your husband, you aggressively stab your pancakes and eat in silence.

I definitely set myself up for this, I’m not gonna lie.

But there is only one way out, and that’s with fresh evidence. Right after finishing dinner, you leave the house and head to your local shop without saying a word to Tsukki.

...She’s really sticking to it huh. Does she know that this isn’t as funny as she thinks it is? He thinks to himself as he sips on some warm milk while listening to some music and reading on the couch.

[Trust me Tsukki. She doesn’t think this is funny at all.]

Though you weren’t at the store for all that long, your husband managed to pass out on the couch (the milk made him sleepy). You sigh, shaking him into slight consciousness and dragging him up the stairs to your bedroom. As you push him onto the bed, he grabs your waist and tries to pull you onto him. He manages to get you close to his chest, and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, mostly asleep and searching for cuddles. For how irritating, snarky, and teasing your husband was, he was awfully affectionate and overwhelmingly sweet in moments like these.

“Not yet, baby,” you whisper to his unconscious head, pulling his glasses off his face. “I have to prove how much of an idiot you are for not believing me. Then you get cuddles.” You wriggle yourself out of his grasp and head to the bathroom, taking another test to confirm what you already knew to be true.

Sighing upon the sight of the two lines, you place this test in the drawer with the other one. “I’ll show him tomorrow when he’s awake and ready to face my wrath.” You smile mischievously while shutting the drawer.

You take care of some unfinished business in your house as it slowly hits 1 am. Exhausted, you eventually find yourself crawling into bed and under Tsukki’s arms, nuzzling into his chest as his arms instinctively encase you, your face tucking into the crook of his neck.

How badly you wanted to stay upset at him. But it felt virtually impossible when he showered you with so much love. Being wrapped up in the warmth of his arms quickly helped you drift off to sleep.

---

You stirred back into consciousness at around 7 am,when the warmth that had wrapped around your body had disappeared, your husband not in sight. He usually woke up early on weekends to go run, so his absence wasn't surprising. Too groggy to worry or think straight, you instinctively get out of bed to go use the restroom as nausea shifts your stomach. However, when you approach the door frame of your master bathroom, you see Tsukki staring into the drawer, looking stiff as a statue. His face hidden, you could tell he’s deeply lost in thought.

“Kei?” You ask softly, “ Love, is everything alri-”

He twists his body to face you, an unreadable expression adorning his strong and normally smug features. It scared you a little.

“...Kei?”

He reveals the two tests in his hands as he strides towards you, holding them directly in front of your line of sight.

“Y/N, all jokes aside. Okay?”

You had a strong indication as to where this was going. “Okay.”

“Are you really pregnant?”

You paused for a second. Although the answer to the question was easy, there was a sudden fear that rose in your stomach upon hearing his tone. What if he was in denial because he didn’t want the baby? Would he be angry if he found out you were serious? But you were almost certain he would be as excited as you for the baby.

Your pause of insecurity was accompanied by a blank expression that had Tsukki’s anticipation skyrocketing. He really wasn’t one to overthink. Thinking just the right amount was his specialty. He’s a rational guy. But you always managed to push that a little, and became the exception.

“Y/N??” His hands grab your shoulders with a slight squeeze.

You jump back into reality as he calls your name. No matter what his reaction was, he would need to know the truth. You could do damage control after.

“Yes. I really am pregnant, Kei. But if you don’t think we’re rea-”

“Is it mine?”

At this, you got pissed real fast.

“The hell? Of course it’s yours, who else’s kid would it be what the hell do you thi-”

He engulfs you in a tight, crushing hug, pulling you against him entirely with his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He lets out a shaky breath as he sways you side to side in his embrace.

“Oh my gosh, I’m gonna be a dad.” Relief radiates off of him, and you could feel a genuine and innocent smile pressed against your skin.

Now you felt like an idiot for even worrying about telling him the truth.

You gently pull away from his body to look him in the eyes, his arms still draped around you. “Kei, why didn’t you believe me when I told you yesterday?”

He looked away from you, eyes on the ground. “Whenever I tried to bring it up in the past, you seemed uncomfortable, and you’ve told me before that you aren’t sure if you were ready to be a mom… I thought that I was the only one who wanted a baby... So when you promised a grand prank for days on end, and I found a positive pregnancy test... I just assumed it was an intense prank and didn’t wanna get my hopes up.” Despite everything, Tsukki had never been the best at direct confrontation. You both were advocates of clear communication and drawing lines, yes, but sometimes, for your sake, he tried to accommodate. It warmed your heart and broke it at the same time to see him all soft and vulnerable, compared to his usual tough guy act.

“Baka.” You pulled his face down to yours so your foreheads touched, his eyes having no option but to lock with yours. “I would never lie about something like this. We’ve always been good about keeping serious stuff serious, yeah?”

He murmured in agreement as he slowly closed his eyes.

You giggle. “You know me too well, though. For a long time I didn’t think I was ready. Even when I took the first test I had doubt in myself. But I thought about everything and… I think I’m ready to have this baby. If it's with you then, yeah. I’m ready.”

He opens his eyes again just to stare at you for a long moment before saying, “You’re gonna be as weird a mom as you are a wife.”

You smack his arm and scowl at him. He breaks out and laughs, “Don’t worry, our baby will probably be as weird as you, so it will be great.” Your scowl deepened. It’s his turn to grab your face and kiss your nose, staring at you with all the love in the world. “It's because you’re so weird that I love you so much. Who else would be able to throw back what I dish out AND amuse me at the same time?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

You sigh, effectively flustered by his wacky compliment. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” His infamous smirk makes a reappearance and damn, are you a sucker for that smirk.

“But-” you continue, “we really have set some ground rules from here on out. I thought your proposal would be the greatest mix-up in our relationship, but this is too close of a second.”

“Agreed.”

“And throughout this pregnancy you sure as hell better lay off on the teasing and pranks because I swear I will-”

“I promise. I’ll be nice to you while you’re carrying our baby. I know- how absolutely uncharacteristic of me.”

You roll your eyes, a smile sneaking onto your face. “Be careful, I might get used to it.”

He rolls his eyes back, smiling as well. “So, truce?”

“Truce.”

He finally pulls away from you and walks as to exit your bedroom. “We’ll talk more about this later, I’m gonna go on my run for now. Do you know where my water bottle is by the way?”

You lean against the door frame once again. “It should be in the office.”

“Alright, I’ll let you know when I get back.”

You smiled to yourself, your stomach bubbling from nausea, yes, but also from happiness. How did you get so lucky with such a snarky beanpole? You had yet to figure it out.

“OI Y/N!” You broke out of your thoughts again as Tsukki sprints up the stairs and essentially throws himself into your bedroom.

“Yes?”

His face is completely awestruck, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief.

“You wanna tell me why there are dinosaur stickers covering literally everything in my office?”

A mischievous grin slowly crawls across your face.

His desk, chair, lamp, laptop, printer, and walls were plastered with dinosaur stickers. A flag with a dinosaur was hung behind his desk as well. (The visit to the shop the night before was the last of 5 trips you had made- you had gone to all sorts of stores to find jumbo stickers over the course of the past few weeks, because Tsukki would have seen packages if you ordered stickers online).

“You couldn’t even spare my water bottle?” He lifts it, as to express his exasperation.

The water bottle looked excessively stupid, as its usual blue service was covered with green baby dinos.

“What happened to the truce?” He asks, still shocked.

“I told you I would get my revenge.” The sass and pride was tangible in your voice.

“Happy belated April Fool’s, Kei.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyu oneshot #haikyu fluff #tsukishima kei #tsukki #tsukishima x reader #haikyu imagines #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima oneshot #tsukishima kei x reader #Oh baby! A series #Colorseeingchick writes

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rabid-heart · 3 years

Text

The Knowledge Argument

For @sefikuraweek Day 4 - Prompt: Free Day

Cloud buys Sephiroth dessert and Sephiroth, being Sephiroth, has a minor philosophical quandary over it.

Note: This is an Atropos-verse side-story, as it takes place in the same universe. It would be during Chapter 4 of A Shift in the Winds, but you probably don’t need to read it in order to understand what is going on here (but if you want to, I won’t stop you!)

Here’s the relevant background info: Cloud passed the SOLDIER exam and is now a Third Class. Shortly after he joined, Cloud had caught Sephiroth’s attention and Sephiroth has been tutoring him in sword technique (seriously, no pun intended) ever since.

This is just a snippet of some of their time together.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Notes/Warnings: Some implied human experimentation/child soldier issues, due to discussion of Sephiroth’s past.

Read on Ao3.

See previous day’s post.

---

Cloud was late. He was very, very late. But it was not completely his fault: his mission had run overtime because of some idiotic misstep on the part of one of the Thirds he was working with. When Cloud’s team finally returned to the tower to hand in their reports, it was already eight-fifteen – nearly an hour past the time that Cloud was supposed to meet Sephiroth for another training session.

Which was why the blond now found himself nervously shifting from one foot to the other on the elevator ride to the SOLDIER VR training rooms. The ghosts of his childhood claustrophobia and motion sickness, though mostly silenced due to his new enhancements, threatened to compound Cloud’s anxiety. He kept thinking about whether Sephiroth would still be waiting for him, frustrated at wasting time over an inconsiderate subordinate. He wondered if Sephiroth would be upset or angry or irritated, and if it would lead to the end of these sessions completely.

That thought hurt more than Cloud was willing to admit. Over the course of his first four months in SOLDIER, the time spent with Sephiroth had become by far his favorite part of the day. He could not help but treasure the quiet moments they shared in between their spars, their conversations a welcome respite from the chaos of the Third Class training and mission schedule. It turned out that Sephiroth’s patience with teaching also extended to his listening: no matter what Cloud talked about, whether it was how the SOLDIER food was so much better than the fare they served the infantry, how his mother was excited to finally be able to buy a new stove with the money he sent over, or how Zack had narrowly managed to escape the wrath of two Turks he had played a prank on, Sephiroth would listen. The man always gave his full attention to Cloud, recalling details from his past stories, nodding politely and understandingly at the right intervals. Cloud could name the number of people that actually paid him any mind at all on one hand, and the fact that Sephiroth, the great General, was one of them, never failed to bring a sense of warmth to his heart.

What also made the everyday exchanges even more precious was the fact that they were not completely one-sided. Though Sephiroth was not very talkative, he had begun to share a few details about himself, things that fleshed out the outline of the man that Cloud had been so intrigued by since his own childhood. For instance, Cloud learned that Sephiroth spent much of his life after being promoted to General buried in paperwork instead of fighting on the battlefield. He discovered that Sephiroth did not partake in alcohol, that he would only eat red meat on rare occasions, that he enjoyed reading in his downtime and that he had a photographic memory.

That last fact Cloud was so surprised by that he tried testing Sephiroth’s ability by asking him to recite the first few lines from the popular children’s book, The Adventures of Spot. But it turned out that the man had not read it, spent his early years instead reading strategy and materia theory books under the supervision of various tutors and experts. Following that confession, Cloud had so many more questions, but the tight line of the General’s lips made it clear that Sephiroth was no longer comfortable speaking, and the subject was dropped very quickly after that.

That was just one of those things about Sephiroth that Cloud learned to become attuned to: there were certain subjects, namely his past and his childhood, that the man had carefully and irrevocably built walls around. Zack had mentioned (warned, really) that Sephiroth, despite his worldwide fame, was an intensely private individual. That inclination toward privacy unfortunately rendered itself easy fodder to an already obtrusive Shinra rumor mill, and amongst the many stories about the General’s history, it was hard for Cloud to sift fact from fiction. Still, the signs that Sephiroth’s past was far from idyllic or pleasant were clear – after all, the man had just been teenager when first sent to war. If Sephiroth had built those walls to protect himself, then Cloud would not push to break them down for the sake of sating his own curiosity.

Yet, Cloud couldn’t help the part of himself that wanted to be closer to Sephiroth. It was no longer uninformed hero worship that motivated him, but a growing sense of care for the man as a living and breathing person. That sense had evolved enough that Cloud could feel a silent anger and injustice growing in his chest whenever another SOLDIER in the Third Class lounge repeated some rumor about the General, or a wayward Shinra employee spoke about Sephiroth as if he were some artificial, unfeeling object.

Because Sephiroth was far from unfeeling. He was more subtle about emotions than most, but they were there, dancing behind his eyes. Amusement at Cloud’s attempt at jokes, disbelief tinged with affection at Zack’s antics, care over Cloud’s wellbeing and progress in SOLDIER, annoyance at Heidegger or other Shinra executives, sadness over his mysterious past – all things he expressed in his own quiet manner. As he had been studying sword technique under Sephiroth’s tutelage, Cloud had also found that he was examining the man himself just as closely. And somehow, over the course of the four months, Sephiroth had become more than just the inscrutable and enigmatic General, but someone who Cloud was now well on his way to considering a close friend.

And that made Cloud even more guilty over his current situation. When the elevator doors finally pinged open, the blond sprinted through the sliding metal doors and down the hallway to the First Class Training Room. With trembling fingers, he fumbled about in his pocket for his keycard and, finally, swiped his way into the space.

“I’m so sorry, I—” Cloud began, but stopped immediately when he noticed the empty floor. It then occurred to Cloud that Sephiroth had probably returned to his office, because the General certainly had better things to do than sit around and wait for an errant Third Class SOLDIER. He turned around to leave, but then was immediately startled by the sight of Sephiroth himself, leaning against the wall by the door that Cloud had just barreled through.

“Cloud,” Sephiroth said, his brow quirked slightly. “How are you?”

“Fine, I’m – wait, what?”

“You’ve just returned from a mission in the slums, have you not?”

The casualness of the line of questioning jammed the overworked gears in Cloud’s head. He had been expecting frustration, even anger, but not thoughtfulness. “Yes, I did. It ran late. I’m sorry, I should have planned better. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Sephiroth tilted his head, as if a little confused by Cloud’s flustered and apologetic state. “You did not,” he replied, pulling out his PHS from his coat pocket. “I had checked the mission roster earlier and was going to call you to cancel but realized that I did not have your number. Zack was kind enough to provide it, but you had not responded. I decided to return here after the system logged your mission report, as I did not want you to wait for me.”

“Oh,” Cloud said. It was typical protocol for SOLDIERs to silence their PHS’s on missions unless required to communicate with other squad members, but it happened to be one of those rules that no one paid any mind, except him. He must have forgotten to check it again when he returned to the Tower. Cloud reached into his pocket for the device, watching it flick to life when he flipped it open. There was a text from Zack and, sure enough, two missed calls from an unknown number that had to have been Sephiroth’s.

“I will say as your superior officer that I admire your adherence to company policy,” Sephiroth said, a tiny smile on his face.

Cloud stared up at man now, his own face flushed from a mixture of embarrassment over his blunder and from the fact that Sephiroth had actually cracked a sly joke over the matter. He had seen tiny bits of the man’s sarcastic sense of humor over the course of their conversations, but this was the first time it had outwardly revealed itself. He couldn’t help the upward tug on his lips in return. “I should get bonus points, then,” he teased back, finally feeling the waves of anxiety begin to calm inside him. “Still, I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

Sephiroth shook his head. “You do not need to apologize, Cloud. But you must be tired. We can resume training tomorrow. Please get some rest.” He began to shift toward the door.

Even after all this time, the thought that Sephiroth had an inch of care for his wellbeing still surprised Cloud. But it was clear – from the way the man wanted to wait for him, to the way he insisted Cloud get his proper rest. And although Sephiroth did not seem to blame him for the scheduling mishap, Cloud could not help the small speck of guilt gnawing inside. He had to make up for it, somehow. Not just this for this, but also for the wonder of the last few months of training with the man, an honor that he knew he could never fully repay. But Cloud would be damned if he did not try.

He could feel his heart thumping, in anticipation, in nervousness, in excitement. There was some part of him, the insecure teenager who was told he would never measure up, that kept ringing alarms in his head, singing that this was ridiculous, this was stupid, that he should just take the out the General had given him and leave it be before he embarrassed himself further. But he resolutely pushed those thoughts aside.

“Sephiroth, wait!” the blond called.

The General stopped just before he stepped out into the hallway, turning around to face Cloud now, a look of confusion creasing that aristocratic brow. “Yes, Cloud?”

Cloud stared up at those green eyes. Steeling himself with a hopeful smile, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

The soft surprise on Sephiroth’s face was worth it.

---

And that was the story of how Cloud had ended up in General Sephiroth’s office, mouth full of meat-sauced pasta delivered from one of the restaurants down the street. Cloud was a country boy at heart and most of the meals he grew up with tended toward the hearty-side, full of potatoes and beefs and dairies, the kind that hit just the right spot after a long day of chopping firewood or chasing the chickens back into their coop. But watching Sephiroth pick at his food – some vegetarian mix with tomatoes and spinach and asparagus – he could see that the man had grown up with a much different experience. It was as if Sephiroth ate not for pleasure, but out of simple physical necessity.

Yet another detail that curled hooks in Cloud’s heart. Despite the pleasant nature of their dinner conversation (they talked about Cloud’s mission, his response to the latest round of mako injections, about Sephiroth’s recent trip to Junon over the weekend), Cloud felt just a little sad. He could not say it was pity, for that would be cruel and condescending and simply wrong. But he felt something and had been feeling it for a while now, since he started to peel through the many hidden layers that Sephiroth presented to the world.

The picture that had started surfacing was this: things that normally brought people joy, like recalling a fond children’s book or eating a delicious meal after a long day, Sephiroth treated as foreign concepts. It seemed all the General knew and understood was contained either in the cogs of Shinra’s bureaucracy or in the training grounds or out on the battlefield. It all lent credence to the popular rumor that Sephiroth had been manufactured by Shinra simply to become the greatest SOLDIER the world ever knew.

And if that happened to be remotely true, then Cloud’s heart would ache just a little more.

His eyes flickered to the one unopened container still left in the paper bag placed at the foot of Sephiroth’s desk. Cloud had ordered the slice of cake on a whim, saw it on the takeout menu that he had pulled up on his own PHS after insisting on paying for dinner. It reminded him of his mother, and how she often tried to have a piece of cake waiting for him after supper on the days he braved the town’s stares to run errands for her at the market. Dessert was not a usual occurrence at the Strife household, as sweets were sometimes hard to come by. But whenever his mother would pull a slice of cake out of the warm oven, a happy tranquility would settle between the two of them. The simple act of sharing the dessert was a fortunate reminder that Cloud had someone out there, in the cold and harsh town he lived in, that cared for and was grateful for him.

He could only hope Sephiroth would feel a fraction of the same way.

Cloud turned back to the man now, who had put down his fork and was now taking a sip of his water. They had settled into somewhat companionable silence to finish their meals. The clock was now itching closer to nine-thirty, which was a little late for Cloud to still be at the Tower, but apparently early for the General, who seemed to always be hounded with work of some kind. But Sephiroth appeared more relaxed tonight than usual, his shoulders less tense, his eyes missing that extra edge. The tiny signs were encouraging.

Sephiroth, being who he was, noticed the slight increase in Cloud’s scrutiny, and after putting down his glass, he turned his full attention to the blond. “Thank you for dinner,” he said, that soft and subtle smile gracing his lips. That little change was the last push that Cloud needed to fuel his courage.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Cloud responded. He reached down for the takeout box, placed it on the table and unfurled the plastic cover, revealing a slice of chocolate cake with a strawberry on top He figured that the tiny bit of fruit would be the compromise – strawberry was healthy, after all. “We still haven’t had dessert.”

Sephiroth’s brows raised a little, which Cloud now understood indicated his amusement and his disbelief (it was also the man’s default expression around Zack). “Dessert?” he asked, looking down at the cake curiously, like a cat that had discovered a questionable new object in its space.

“My mom – she’d always leave me a slice of cake after dinner as a thank you, whenever I finished my chores. And, well, I figured I had yet to properly thank you, not just for your patience today, but for everything else, too.”

Cloud had seen Sephiroth surprised, in his usual understated fashion, but this was different – an amazement, an astonishment, a relief, and a gratefulness. Sephiroth’s mouth had fallen open slightly, his face and eyes now soft and open and vulnerable in manner that Cloud had never seen before and had a feeling few people ever had the privilege of experiencing. And that was what it was – a privilege. Because Cloud was now hard-pressed to find a sight ever so heartwarming as that.

“You did not have too.” Sephiroth began.

“I know. I just felt like it.” Cloud dug around the takeout bag for another fork and handed it to the other man. “You get first bite. I hope you like it.”

Sephiroth took the proffered utensil with careful hesitance. It was as if he was unsure how to proceed. Which, it turned out, might have been the truth, because the man then said softly, almost as if he didn’t mean to voice the thought aloud, “I’ve never truly had dessert before.”

Cloud blinked, felt his mind literally pause. “What?”

They met eyes, and Cloud could see it in the green: those walls that Sephiroth cautiously constructed, and he was coming up dangerously close to one. But there was something else in the look, different from the ones before that always seemed more warning, more halting, more dangerous. Those looks all said, no, stay away. This one instead said, please. How could he say no to that?

“You can tell me,” Cloud said, leaning forward in his seat. “I’ll listen.”

Sephiroth paused, holding the fork in his hand like a pencil, his thumb almost nervously sliding along the plastic handle. “I have been instructed to stay in top physical condition, which means maintaining an optimal diet.”

Cloud was going to ask instructed by who, but Sephiroth continued, and he wasn’t about to interrupt the man when he was already sharing more pieces of himself than he was likely comfortable with. “I would have the occasional bite of something at a Shinra function. But it would never be like this – sharing with another person. This is…different.”

“How so?”

Sephiroth put the fork down on the table, looked at Cloud carefully, like he did whenever he wanted to instruct Cloud on a new skill and was trying to determine the best method of communicating his thinking. Finally, he asked, “Have you ever heard of the knowledge argument?”

The blond shook his head in response.

“It’s a philosophical thought experiment. The premise is that there is a girl, who has lived in a box of black and white all her life. But she has read about color, understands the science behind how light reflects to create color. As far as she is concerned, knowing all the physical properties means there is no further knowledge to obtain. But one day, something changes – and she sees an apple, not in black and white, but fully red.”

“What happens next?”

“Well, that is the question of the experiment. Does something happen at all? Was Mary correct in believing that even though she’s never seen color, she knew all there was about it? Or did the experience of the red change things for her?”

Cloud was no philosopher, but he did not have to be one to see the parallels. An intelligent being, trapped in a limited box, with the ability and knowledge to understand the facts of the world. And yet, despite all the books and tutors and experts on all manner of subjects, having experienced little else but fighting and war and death, the vast knowledge such a being would have possessed would be always be terribly and tragically incomplete.

Cloud’s eyes flickered to the cake now, the strawberry red a startling contrast to the dark chocolate. There was more than just the pleasant taste of the thing, more than just the sweetness. He thought of his mother, the happiness, the comfort, the feeling of safety and warmth. There was gratitude and love and care and an understanding that one belonged and one was important to someone in this wild and unyielding world.

He took the fork from the table and snatched a piece of the cake in its points.

“Well, here’s your red apple.” Cloud said, turning the handle toward Sephiroth.

Sephiroth gave another tiny smile, taking the fork in his always remarkably gentle hands. He took a bite, slowly, and Cloud scanned his face for the miniscule nuances that he had now made a habit of studying so carefully. There was surprise and there was joy. That was all that Cloud needed to see. But he wanted to hear, too.

“Well? You learn anything new?”

The green eyes that fixed on him now were gentle and grateful.

“I think I am beginning to.”

And that was all Cloud needed to know.

#sefikuraweek #sefikura #sephiroth x cloud #sephiroth #cloud strife #prompt: free day #final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii remake #Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core

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grandmother-goblin · 3 years

Text

Hangman’s Mercy

Chapter 1

Summary: After the war, Levi remembers how he fell in love with the executioner.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Canon-typical Violence, Decapitation, Suggestive Themes, Language, Period-typical Sexism.

On a summer morning, outside an oceanfront cafe, Levi longed for the executioner's embrace. Seagulls cawed on the distant beach and the gentle ocean breeze blew salty air over his steaming cup of tea. Chamomile; the executioner's favorite. Especially with a little honey after a stressful day. They spent countless nights together, sitting across a candlelit table when neither of them could sleep or in each other’s arms, with a hot pot of chamomile tea between them. God, he missed those days.

The chamomile tea at the Marelean cafe did not taste as sweet, even with honey. Maybe that was just because of the company. Not that Levi minded the overzealous journalist scribbling in his journal across from him. After all, he paid well, and it wasn’t like Levi had much to do after the war. Despite the massive loss of life, humanity trudged towards a new sense of normalcy only weeks later. Businesses had to continue, people needed a new sense of purpose or just a moment of peace, and society was never one to stay still. Levi still had to make a living in a world without titans, so when a fast-talking kid with a fire in his eyes offered to pay him for interviews he took the opportunity.

The young man, Marty Chase, tapped his pen against a pile of notes with a nervous energy. Levi took a few days to get to know Marty’s work before he agreed to a biography, and the kid checked out. Marty co-authored three bestsellers before the age of thirty, all biographies of Marelean warriors. Levi did not know any of the subjects, but he felt like he did after a few chapters into his works. How he wove together someone’s life with just interviews and notes, Levi did not know. Some sort of creative witchcraft he would never understand.

Marty flipped to a fresh page in his notebook and clicked his pen. “When I was listening back to our last session, you mentioned an executioner a couple of times. Tell me about that.”

“What about her?”

“Her?” Marty made a note and underlined the fact the executioner was a woman several times. He flipped back through his notes, finding some highlighted passages in the ink. “How did you know her?”

Steam rose from his teacup, and Levi watched as it disappeared into the wind. He hadn’t realized he mentioned the executioner enough during his interviews for Marty to take notice. In fact, he tried to leave the executioner out of it as much as he could. Those who read his biography wouldn’t give a damn about that. Why would they? They wanted to know about his military experience, his title of Humanity’s Strongest, about Eren Jaeger, the military coup, what he saw, and what he experienced. They wanted to know what his comrades could no longer share. Without bringing her into it, they could know all of that. Would she even want them to know?

Levi tasted the chamomile on his tongue and closed his eyes, wishing it was as sweet as he remembered on her lips. He could not ask her permission to share her part of the story. It was impossible. Levi turned the warm teacup in his hands and sighed.

“I almost asked her to marry me.”

The incessant pen clicking stopped. Marty stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape like a fish out of water. Marty dove into the fat briefcase he lugged around and retrieved that stupid little recording device. It was slightly bigger than a deck of cards with black casing and a roll of tape inside. “And you thought you could just leave out that teensy-weensy, tiny, detail?”

Levi shrugged. “Didn’t think you’d care about that.”

Marty rolled his eyes, as if Levi said something ridiculous, like cats could be herded or the moon didn’t exist. “This stuff is the heart of a good story, no pun intended,” he said. “You’re pretty extraordinary, Mr. Ackerman, no two ways about that. But, people like you seem so far out of reach to an average guy like me. What we need is something to reel you back in. Something to tell our audience, ‘hey, this guy is as human as he is amazing’, and what’s more human than romantic love?”

“Taking a shit?”

Marty set his pen on the table and eyed him like a disappointed teacher looking at the class clown. “If you really don’t think she’s important, you don’t have to tell me about her.”

“Don’t give me the guilt trip shit, Marty.” Levi finished his tea and set the empty cup at the edge of the iron bistro table. “You have plans today?”

“Not if you have a story to tell me.”

“Then get me another cup of tea. Lavender and bergamot, no sweetener.”

Marty beamed like Levi had offered a pot of gold instead of a day's worth of work. Though to Marty, those two were likely one and the same. His book about Reiner’s time in Paradis sold out in some of the biggest shops Marley offered. Well, Levi hoped the paycheck would be worth both of their time.

After Marty returned with the tea and a heart-attack inducing amount of coffee, he pressed the little red button on the side of his recording device. He leaned in close to the speaker and rattled off his typical prelude to the recording. “Levi Ackerman. Tape thirty-two. Who is the executioner?”

Levi sipped his fresh cup of tea, thankful for the bit of caffeine because he knew he’d be needing it. “Don’t turn my biography into a romance novel.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Ackerman,” Marty answered without missing a beat. He clicked his pen and tapped it against the first line in his notebook. “Now, tell me how you first met the executioner.”

Levi held his cup of tea just above the table, not sure if he was going to set it down or take another sip. He guessed he had nothing to lose by sharing their story. “Twenty-five years ago, I saw my first beheading. I was still just a kid scraping by in the Underground…”

Levi, a tiny, twelve-year-old piece of garbage, had only been on his own for a few weeks. Kenny taught him just enough to take care of himself and drop-kicked him from the relative safety of the nest to the dogs. With Kenny, awful as he was, Levi at least felt a sense of safety with an adult around. Once that was ripped from under him, it took him a while to regain his bearings.

The Sunday market was the perfect place to pick pockets and swipe valuables, whether they were from a vendor or a customer. The place was so crowded, a small kid like him could disappear in an instant. He just needed to find the right target. Ideally, someone who looked like they didn’t belong Underground. Someone who would be unused to the dim lighting, the stale air thick with the smell of smoke, and the echoing chatter of thousands of people crammed into one place. Few people from above ground went to the Sunday market, but there were enough to make them easy pickings.

On the outskirts of the market, right outside a general store where Kenny used to buy his liquor, sat a young girl atop some supply crates. One look at her, and Levi knew she was the perfect target. Clean clothes? Check. Shiny hair? Check. Dirt-free face? Check? Alone? Also check. The pretty, sun-kissed face was also a dead giveaway. The brown leather satchel on her lap, scratch-free with shiny copper buckles, would be a great steal. He just had to get a hold of it.

Levi smoothed his ratty, moth-bitten coat and checked his hair in a dusty shop window. Well, he did not look so bad that the girl would run away from him screaming. At least he hoped he didn’t. Not that he cared. Normally, he would go for a more covert approach, one where his target would never know he was there, but there was no way he could take the bag right off of her lap. He’d have to get her to put it down.

With his heart beating faster than a bat's wings, he approached the girl. When she smiled at him, his breath caught in his throat. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea. He focused on the bag. Even if there was nothing good in there, the bag itself would be worth something, whether it be money or for his own use.

Unable to keep eye contact, he swallowed and looked at his shoes, restless fingers pulling at a loose thread in his pocket. “Hey,” he said, his voice breaking in a way that it hadn’t before. He cleared his throat and willed the heat from his face. What was wrong with him?

The girl leaned on her bag. “Hi,” she said with a pretty, white smile. “I like your haircut.”

His eyes widened at the unexpected compliment and the blush he swallowed before heat rushed right back to his face. Thank the walls the Underground was dark, because he was certain she would have laughed if she saw the color on his face. “Thanks, uhh—” he toyed with the thread in his pocket. “I, uh, like your face.” Stupid. Idiot. Maybe if he ran away right now, she would forget about the whole thing.

She covered her mouth when she giggled. It was the cutest thing he had ever heard. What the hell? Was this what Kenny meant when told Levi that girls would stop being gross one day? What a joke. A terrible, awful joke.

He needed to act fast. Plan A: get the girl to stand. Maybe she would put the bag down for a second, long enough for him to grab it and run. He scratched the back of his neck and eyed the crate she was sitting on. “I need to get to that box.”

“Oh.” The girl straightened, one hand still on her bag. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get in the way,” she said and pushed herself off the crates, her long green skirt billowing behind her. Unfortunately, she looped the handle around her forearm, keeping it close.

Well, that did not work. Time for Plan B. Levi looked over the crate and found a serial number. He pretended to examine it for a second before he turned back to the girl. “Can you help me move this?” he asked. “I think I need the one below it.”

Still smiling, the girl set her bag down and dusted her hands off on her skirt. “Sure. What should I do?”

Perfect. “Grab that side.” He pointed to the side of the crate furthest away from her bag. Without question, she tucked her fingers under one side of the crate while Levi lifted the other. Sure, he could have just snatched the bag while she had her back turned, but that was too risky. He wanted a little more of a head start before she followed him.

Levi lifted the top crate well off of the bottom one, and the little girl followed, shuffling her feet against the cobblestone. Her skinny arms strained and her cheeks colored with exertion. There was his chance.

His fingers released, and Levi’s end of the crate crashed into the ground. The girl faltered and Levi acted before the girl could even let go of her half of the crate. His deft hands swiped the bag as he darted past. Too easy. Way too easy. Levi couldn’t help but smile to himself as he swung the bag over his shoulder and the girl shouted after him. Levi circled around the edge of the market to put some distance between him and the girl before he ducked into the thick of the crowd.

In the bustling marketplace, Levi swung the bag onto his shoulder and blended in among the other patrons. No one gave him a second look, like he was just there for a bit of shopping, like everyone else. Easy, he thought to himself. Even if the bag had little in it, the bag itself was nice. Sturdy, with lots of pockets and a comfortable strap. Maybe he’d even keep it for himself instead of pawning it off.

When Levi ducked through a small crowd near a pastry stand, he felt a sudden tug at the back of his jacket. His collar caught his throat as he was yanked back, and a hand the size of his head gripped his shoulder like a vice.

“Say, my daughter has a bag just like that,” said a deep, gravelly voice as the grip on his shoulder tightened.

Levi felt like his heart had stopped. No. What were the fucking chances. The surrounding people started to take notice of the altercation and backed away. People in the Underground knew Levi through reputation alone, and he had taken on men twice his size more times than he could count. Too late not to cause a scene.

Levi grasped his knife and struck behind him, the blade making contact with the man’s flesh. The man groaned and Levi felt another hand on him as he was spun around. Levi’s heart jumped to his throat. This man wasn’t twice his size, he was even bigger. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought a titan had made it Underground.

Under a bushy red beard that surrounded his face like a lion’s mane, he smiled, a gold tooth front and center of his grin. Levi briefly wondered how much the tooth was worth before he felt his knife plucked from his hand.

“Get him, Ivor!” yelled someone in the crowd.

Another man shouted. “Teach that shit a lesson, hangman!”

The hangman. The fucking hangman. Levi felt his blood run cold as he stared up at the monstrous man. So he was the man Kenny would talk about when he got drunk. The one man that Kenny actually seemed to fear. Not because he thought Ivor would hunt him down, but because Ivor would be the one to carry out his sentence if he was ever tried for his crimes. Remembering the way Kenny described how the hangman would torture his victims before the execution made Levi’s stomach turn.

“I’m not going to fight a child,” Ivor called back to the crowd. “Piss off. You’re not getting a damn show, you buzzards.”

The crowd did not disperse as more insults and jeers were thrown the hangman’s way.

Ivor ignored the taunts. Instead, the hangman focused his pale blue eyes into Levi’s gray ones. “I made that bag for my daughter,” he said. “All it has in it is tea and bad handwritten poetry. I’d tell you to see for yourself, but she’d kill me if I let a stranger read her poems,” he added with a light chuckle.

“Let go of me.”

One hand tightened its grip while the other let go, giving Levi what was supposed to be a friendly pat. “Aye, can’t do that until I get that bag back, son.”

Levi tossed the bag on the ground. Whatever. He knew when to cut his losses. “Take it.”

Still not letting go of him, Ivor placed a boot on the bag strap, keeping it secure. “Thank you, my boy,” he boomed and ruffled Levi’s hair. Ivor knelt as close to Levi’s level as he could, his trench coat made of thick hide bunching up at his feet. He smelled of bergamot and lemon, like he had doused himself in perfumes. Something about Ivor contradicted all of Levi’s expectations: respected and ridiculed, fearsome and jovial, a killer with kind eyes. Despite the iron grip on his shoulder, the hangman seemed… almost nice? Much more tolerant than most of the folks Levi came across, and definitely more so than the ones who felt they were wronged. Blood soaked through Ivor’s pant leg where Levi had slashed his knife, but Ivor did not acknowledge it.

“Take this, boy,” he said in a rough voice barely above a whisper. Ivor reached into his pocket and pressed a small, yet heavy, bag of coins into Levi’s hands, doing his best to shield the transaction from the crowd. “Stay out of trouble. If you don’t, you’ll be seeing me again, boy. And next time, I won’t be so nice.”

Ivor picked up his daughter’s bag and finally released his hold on Levi, patting him on his certainly bruised shoulder. Levi stumbled back, reaching for the knife that was no longer there. Right. The hangman had tossed it aside. Levi pocketed the coins and stood his ground, waiting for an opening to grab his knife again.

Around them, the crowd booed. They hurled words not even Kenny would have used the hangman’s way, and he stood tall and proud, stoic as a statue. When a piece of rotten vegetable pelted Ivor’s coat, he brushed off with a laugh as people in the crowd continued to taunt and jeer. The hangman turned to look at Levi once more, before giving a subtle nod towards a break in the crowd. Levi swore he saw the man mouth the word ‘go’ from behind his massive beard.

“Thought you were going to give us a show, hangman!” a shrill woman shouted.

Ivor tossed the bag over his shoulder. “You’ll be getting a show tomorrow.” He spread his arms with all the showmanship of a magician. “Now stop gawking and do something with your miserable lives, you scabs!”

With a slight limp, Ivor turned into the crowd. Not really thinking, Levi picked his knife off the ground and ran the opposite direction. He did not know where he was going, just that he needed to get out of the marketplace and away from anyone who saw Ivor give him money. Maybe that was the man’s true intention: to put a target on Levi’s back with the cash rather than true altruism. Why else would he give a kid who just stabbed him a satchel full of coins?

The woman’s voice rang in his head. Give us a show, hangman! He was the fucking hangman, and Levi had robbed the hangman’s kid. Levi never felt so stupid in his life. The human embodiment of Death had Levi in his grip, at his mercy, and let him live.

With that gift, Levi ran and did not stop until he reached his lodgings. Levi locked the door behind him and slid to the floor to catch his breath.

When his breathing settled, he pulled the bag of coins out and counted them. More than he expected. A lot more. Enough to get him food for an entire month, or even longer if he planned right. Levi closed his eyes and let his head rest against the wooden door behind him. What the hell kind of person gave a piece of shit like him such a gift? Maybe Ivor had something wrong with him.

Despite how Levi never wanted to see the executioner again, Levi found himself drawn to the town square the following afternoon. He never watched an execution before, but he knew where they took place. The crowd made for good pickings, as those who came to watch were distracted by the morbid spectacle and alcohol. Levi always took his pickings and left before the cart with the condemned even made it to the podium.

There were no gallows for hanging, just a raised platform with a block of wood at the center. People gathered a healthy distance away from the platform. Out of the splash zone, as one man said. Levi did not want to think about how that distance was determined, and stood behind two larger men as a human shield. He could see the podium well enough between them, so long as they stood relatively still. It would have been so easy to swipe something right out of their pockets, but he resisted. It was a day for observation, and observation only. He didn’t know why, but he needed to see the executioner in action. He needed to know it was, in fact, the same man he met the day before.

Nothing he knew of the man, the little he did know, made any sense. Obviously respected, yet despised. A brute who didn’t flinch at a knife slicing his thigh and laughed off a jeering crowd. A man who made bags for his daughter, gave coins to a kid who stabbed him, and went off to kill a person the next day.

One man in front of him, with a stocky build and a mustache that looked like a push broom, puffed at his cigarette. “Any idea what this one did?”

His friend, a taller man with a ponytail, replied, “I heard she killed a few of her customers from the whore house. Poor bastards. Thought they were paying for a good time, then they’d get home and drop dead. Took them ages to find out why.”

“How many did she get?”

“At least twelve, from what I’ve heard.”

“Shit.” The mustached man tossed his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boots. “Executioner will let us know.”

The man with a ponytail cocked his chin towards the main road. “Speak of the devil and he will come,” he said.

Far down the end of the main road, a draft horse pulled a rickety wagon fixed with a rusty iron cage. The giant, red-haired hangman sat at the front of the cart, his boxy gloved hands gripping the reins as he shouted at people to get out of the way. Beside him was the little girl from yesterday, hugging her precious bag.

“Can’t believe he’s training her,” Mustache Man muttered.

Ponytail shrugged. “Not like she has many other prospects,” he said. “Being the hangman’s kid, it’s not like men will be lining up for her. Hell, I don’t know if a whore house would take her.”

Mustache Man hummed thoughtfully and lit up another cigarette. “Poor kid.”

The wagon reached the podium and Ivor hauled himself down from the rider seat, the wagon creaking with the sudden loss of weight. Levi would not have been surprised if the ground shook when those massive boots hit the pavement like a fallen powder keg. Ivor turned back to the cart and gingerly lifted his daughter and set her down beside him. Without a word, the girl dug into her bag and passed a vial to her father before she went to the edge of the podium.

A man in a Military Police uniform lingered nearby. Probably acting as some sort of bailiff, Levi figured, judging by the official-looking documents clutched between his fingers. He ascended to the podium and shouted something to Ivor, who went to the back of the wagon.

A desperate wail echoed over the crowd when Ivor swung open the metal bars. A frail woman with her hands tied behind her back scrambled to the back of the wagon, sobbing and pleading. Her hair had been cut short, but Levi recognized her from the brothel as a woman his mother would sometimes talk to. Her name was Ada, if he remembered correctly, and she was almost unrecognizable between the haphazardly chopped hair and tear-stained face. Kicking at his meaty hands, squirming away from his vice-like grip, Ivor pulled her from the cart despite her best efforts.

Turning her away from the crowd, Ivor pinched her jaw and dumped the vial down her throat. He held her mouth shut until she swallowed as he whispered something in her ear. Sobbing, tears leaving salty streaks on her face and snot dripping from her nose, she stopped fighting him. Her shoulders slumped and her head hung like a rag doll, as if she had finally accepted what was coming to her. Guiding her by the back of the neck, Ivor led Ada up four wooden steps to the chopping block, his blocky hand grasping her arm when she tripped.

The crowd booed and jeered as Ivor pushed Ada to her knees in front of the block. She stared ahead, her eyes already dead and her body slumping to the side. Ivor righted her long enough to tie a blindfold over her eyes before she slumped over again. The man from the Military Police rang a bell to quiet the crowd. When the chatter and yelling subsided, he read the charges brought before Ada. Like the gentlemen in front of him had said, she had confessed to poisoning at least a dozen men, all of whom were prior customers of the brothel.

Once the charges had been read, Ivor pushed the woman down. With one massive hand on the back of her skull, he guided her neck, so it rested across the chopping block. The moment he let go, her head lolled to the side.

Releasing Ada to pick up the ax, Ivor watched as she slipped off the block completely. Her body curled up into itself like a frightened child, wetness seeping through her blindfold. He set the ax down on its head, holding it upright with one hand and motioning for his daughter with the other. The crowd grew quiet as the little girl joined him on the podium.

“Shit,” Ponytail drawled with more pity than Levi ever thought could fit into a curse word.

“Yeah,” Mustache Man agreed, forgetting the cigarette that burned between his finger tips.

Levi could not hear what Ivor said, but the girl nodded and knelt in front of Ada. Her small hands lifted Ada from beneath her jaw and pulled her back onto the chopping block. With Ada’s neck in place, the girl walked back on her knees as far away from the block as she could manage without letting go of Ada’s hair.

Ivor wrapped his bulking hands around the long handle of the ax and poised himself beside the block, waiting.

When the man from the Military Police gave the signal, Ivor hoisted the ax into the air and brought it down. Once, then once again, each strike accompanied by the thud of metal against flesh, wet plops of blood, and gasps of horror and cheers from the crowd. At least two people vomited at the sight and one man in the front row fainted.

Pale in the face and speckled with blood, the little girl detangled her fingers from Ada’s hair. Ada’s head rolled a few inches from where the girl had dropped it, blood staining the wooden podium in its path. The girl did not move until Ivor yanked her to her feet. Deaf to the audience, the little girl walked back to the cart as though she were drawn by a string and not of her own accord.

The man from the Military Police pronounced Ada dead as Ivor held up the still dripping head to the crowd. Levi’s stomach turned. For a moment, he thought he might join the people who lost their lunch at the sight, but he swallowed thickly and turned away. If he never saw either of them again, it would be too soon.

Twenty-five years later, and he still remembered that afternoon more clearly than he would have liked. It was not the most brutal death Levi had witnessed. Titans were plenty worse. Something else stood out about that one in particular, but Levi did not really know what. Even as he recounted the story to Marty, he could not say why the memory stuck with him so strongly.

Marty poured creamer into his coffee and paused the recording device. Quietly, he wrote a few notes while Levi finished his cup of tea. Even though Marty had listened to the very worst of Levi’s stories, it seemed the story about a little girl holding a severed head and struck him differently. The change in disposition only lasted long enough for Marty to finish writing his notes, the gears in his brain seemed to turn as he did so. Marty checked his recording device and looked up at Levi, intrigue written across his face.

Levi picked up one of the cranberry scones Marty ordered almost twenty minutes ago. “You’ve got questions.”

Marty tapped his pen. “I do,” he said. “But first, I want to hear what happened next.”

#attack on titan #aot #levi #levi ackerman #aot fanfiction

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kbstories · 4 years

Text

Deconstruction

de·con·struc·tion (n.) The act of breaking something down into its separate parts in order to understand its meaning.

To Trafalgar Law, trust has never come easy.

(Or: Luffy does his thing and Law recovers.)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Trafalgar Law Needs A Hug, Recovery, Nakamaship, Luffy Being Luffy, Minor Canon Divergence

Set between Dressrosa and Zou but Sanji is there because the author mixed up the canon timeline woops. Content warning for references to suicidal ideation (in the context of Law’s plan).

***

The coffee is good, Trafalgar Law thinks as he follows the wood grain pattern of the Sunny’s dining table with zero interest. His eyes itch like there’s a sandstorm raging between cornea and lid; Law is certain they’re swollen something fierce too, and can’t bring himself to care. Fuck, his head hurts.

Another sip, and Law’s lips twitch into a frown. Scratch that, the coffee is fantastic, and isn’t that another entry on the ridiculously long list of things-to-resent-Luffy-for. Admittedly, this particular dose was administered by Strawhat’s cook. Luffy-by-proxy, then.

Never let it be said that Trafalgar D. Water Law can’t be both a master strategist and a petty asshole.

Cigarette ever-present between his lips, Sanji regards him with something-like-sympathy. The look doesn’t stick around, there and gone while he prepares enough food to be considered a light lunch on the Thousand Sunny, and a veritable feast anywhere else.

Sour mood or not, Law can appreciate the space he’s given. Unlike a certain someone, most Strawhats know to leave him the fuck alone when Law asks for it.

With a porcelain click, a plate is placed next to his half-empty cup of coffee: It carries a colorful assortment of cut fruits and two onigiri, perfectly shaped. The portion is small enough not to challenge the loveless marriage Law has with his appetite, and the glass of water that follows is served sans the usual snide commentary.

So much for that.

Law glowers at Sanji but the cook has already moved on to the dozen other dishes in varying stages of preparation, and to have a staring contest with Sanji’s back would be, well, childish. And unproductive.

The past few weeks – and yes, it’s weeks and not years or decades as his overtaxed nerves will have him believe – have taught Law a great many things. How much he appreciates wonderful concepts like privacy and personal bubbles, for example, and that the Sunny is a parallel universe where those things simply do not exist.

Oh, and also that food is not to be wasted, or else.

Thus, Law doesn't. He eats, and a quiet breath makes it out of his mouth that is only partially the annoyed sigh he intended. Because the food’s fucking delicious, and his stomach decides to stop hating him because it’s his favorite, and the headache that’s been shadowing his every step since he woke up eases just like that. Suddenly, the mother of all emotional hangovers dims and for the first time in hours, Law can think.

Sanji smiles like he knows it, too, the bastard.

Weeks of this bullshit and he’s at his limit, defenses shot, walls badly patched up and crumbling regardless. Law blinks and groans, presses tattooed fingers to closed lids in a desperate bid for the moisture building there to fuck off already.

And he’d thought he’d cried himself into a desert just yesterday. A naïve assumption to make, on a ship populated by sentimental idiots.

“Luffy finally got to you, huh?”

Oh, Law does not want to talk about it. The crux of the problem is that he wasn’t raised among thieves – at least, not entirely – and with the empty plate in front of him and the pleasant tingle of caffeine in his system, politeness dictates some form of reciprocation. Bepo would be oh-so-proud of him, if…

Well. That thought is added to the pile of others he pushes far down to be able to function.

So Law mumbles, “That’s one way to put it”, a fleeting glance over the rim of his cup ensuring that yup, that damnable glint of kindness is back in Sanji's eye and this time it's going nowhere. Law’s shoulders draw up so tight they might as well be made of granite, as rigid and unyielding as he wants to be. Strawhat made quick work of that illusion, too.

“Listen, cook–”

“You really think you’re the only one?” Sanji interrupts him calmly, a statement-turned-question for Law’s sake, and Law shuts up and watches the other smoke for a few, tense seconds.

Tense for him, at least. Sanji looks like he does this every fucking day, leaning against the counter with his back straight and his legs crossed at the ankles and his words piercing past all pretense like he’s the one known to wield swords, not the other way around.

Law just gives him a look. Sanji chuckles and turns his head to blow out the smoke away from him; in return, the doctor spares him the comment about deadly habits that he’s probably heard from Chopper a thousand times anyways.

“Well, you’re not. Luffy pulled that shit with every single other person he’s decided to befriend, so we’re all – pardon the pun – on the same boat here.”

“…Everyone?”

Even Zoro? is the real question here, because Law can imagine pretty much every Strawhat losing it eventually (they’re an overly emotional bunch even on a good day) but somehow his mind blanks at their first mate. And Nico Robin, while he’s at it.

There’s a particular sort of glee in Sanji’s gaze, then. “Everyone. Captain’s a charming little shit, and he hates seeing someone being sad on his ship. With that fucker Mingo gone and”, he gestures casually at Law’s… everything, and Law glares, “it was only a matter of time, really.”

“I see”, Law says but he doesn't, not really. Even after sailing with him, fighting with him, bleeding with him, Luffy remains an enigma and ultimately unpredictable. Law taps a rhythm against the edge of the table, catches himself doing it, stops.

“I don’t know how you stand it.”

What he means is the incessant laughter, the constant interruptions, the Hi Traffy! and What are you doing, Traffy? and Traffy, play with us! and You’re funny, Traffy! – yet all he thinks of are intense brown eyes and a starburst scar and Luffy’s voice, quiet with sudden sincerity:

Don't you know? You deserve to be happy, Law.

Law misses the flippantly dismissive tone he was aiming for by a nautical mile and then some. He winces, looks away with a huff; there’s no way Sanji can miss the rough honesty in Law’s voice, obvious and crimson-red like a target sign, pointing to the parts of his soul left aching and raw.

All Sanji does is shrug as if to say, you get used to it, and he extinguishes his cigarette and picks up the plate and leaves the cup with a pointed look. The cook returns to his craft and just like that, Law is off the hook again.

Oh.

His coffee is cold by now but he finishes it anyway, downing the rest like a shot of liquor. Carefully, Law returns the cup to the counter next to Sanji’s elbow, and his murmur of thanks is accepted with an easy-going smile.

Law’s motivation to step outside and face the day is fractured and hazardously taped together at best. There is no reason to delay it any further: It’s a miracle the galley hasn’t been invaded already, especially with the smell of grilling meat wafting all over deck at this point. Law will take whatever his pitiful sense of luck will grant him.

That is, until he taps his hat in parting, opens the door and promptly stumbles over Monkey D. Luffy, captain of the Strawhat Pirates and recently-assigned commander of an extensive fleet, as he loses balance and rolls into the room with a dumbfounded look of surprise on his face. Law stares as it is swiftly replaced by a delighted smile.

“Oh, hey Tra–!”

With a flash of blue and the dull flop of a book on wood, Law disappears.

The sun is dipping towards the horizon and painting everything in vibrant reds and gold when Law decides to stop avoiding Luffy.

It’s a bizarre amalgamation of factors that leads up to it: Nico Robin’s look of mild curiosity as he appears in the library without warning; the fact Law has already dug up and read every book that is even tangentially related to any of his interests (and those that aren’t, too); a rare sense of yearning to feel the wind on his face and to watch the sea as she tosses and turns playfully against the Sunny’s hull–

The sea is out there, however, and so is Luffy, and were his self-control to slip any further, Law would shudder with the nervous energy that tingles in his veins at the thought.

The truth is that Luffy is brilliant. Perhaps not book smart like Law or as mechanically gifted as his shipwright or his sniper – people and emotions, that’s what Strawhat Luffy knows better than anyone, and it’s fucking terrifying. By his own design, Law is more lies and deceit and meticulous strategy than he is a person; it’s what carried him from being a child-beyond-death all the way to Dressrosa, the island-that-would-be-his-grave. It’s the one element that didn’t change in a plan he revised and adapted a million times over the years.

And then Law shambled Luffy out of the air and Luffy smiled at him and they set sail again and there, with all escape routes barricated by endless blue, the man dedicated a whole week of his life to go look for what’s left of Trafalgar Law in the aftermath and just... No.

A real shame that the ally he chose turned out to be allergic to plans. And common sense, and doing things in reasonable amounts, and– He sighs, a tired little noise that is lost to the uncaring backs of countless books.

Yeah, this is getting ridiculous.

Thousand Sunny can rarely be described as quiet by any definition. Stepping out on the quarterdeck, Law is met with the idle cries of sea gulls high above and the fluttering of the gaff sail as it turns to catch a lazy breeze. The sight of a napping swordsman, a sun-bathing model, and a skeleton delicately partaking in afternoon tea with a reindeer really shouldn’t register as anything other than bat-shit insane. He finds himself immediately losing parts of the habitual scowl he keeps on his face, and once again he has to wonder what kind of forbidden magic the Strawhats wield to simply do that.

No matter. With steady hands, Law tucks the tips of his hair under his hat – it’s gotten rather long, without Penguin around to cut it – and makes his way across deck, side-stepping Zoro’s comfortable sprawl with an ease born of practice.

The same ease with which he ignores the mumbled comment of “Fucking finally”, as much as it makes his stomach churn. The notion that everyone on the ship knows is not a comforting one.

Your crew is waiting for you! Are you gonna give up on them, too?!

You don’t know shit about my crew, Strawhat!

Then again, a screaming match between two captains in the small hours of the night can hardly be categorized as ‘stealthy’.

Framed by the sun, Luffy is a proud silhouette atop the figurehead of his ship. His legs are crossed, hands hooked under his shins as if to limit the amount of excited twitching to be done; boundless energy slips through the cracks like the glow of a firefly held between two hands. Law huffs a breath, shakes his head. A botched attempt at holding back but an attempt nonetheless. He can respect that, at least.

The unwritten agreement among the Strawhats is that this spot, it’s Luffy’s and Luffy’s alone. The man claims no other luxury on his own ship – which contains a captain’s cabin, Law checked with the cyborg on that, it’s just that it’s used for storage because Luffy-bro doesn’t like sleeping alone, you know? – and there hasn’t yet been a situation which required contesting that.

Thus, Law hesitates just outside the invisible circle drawn around the Sunny’s wooden mane. And, while there’s little doubt the other can track his approach, he knows he owes him for the tactical retreat earlier in the day.

“Luffy.”

Law’s tone is neutral, expression marginally softened by the clear relief in Luffy’s reply of “Traffy!” that comes with a glance over his shoulder. The grin that follows may be the only predictable thing about the guy, and Law can’t find it in himself to begrudge him for that.

“Come up, come up! I wanna show you something.”

For once, he walks instead of using Room. There’s nothing to replace himself with up there except for Luffy’s hat, and (the expected outcome of his big plan aside) Law doesn’t actually have a death wish. Step by step, Sunny’s head reveals a breathtaking view that only a handful of people have seen: From end to end, the line between sky and ocean disappears in the purple-pink swirls of twilight and a world that stretches on to infinity below their feet. Up here, a universe of possibility is within reach for those courageous enough to try.

No wonder Luffy adores it so much.

Law sits next to him with as much grace as he can muster, one knee pulled close to his chest and disregarding the painful twinge from his side where the nerves of his arm have yet to fully reconnect. His gaze remains on the horizon for a while longer, soaking up the sight befitting of a king.

“So that’s why you’re always up here.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah! It’s cool, right?” Luffy snickers, patting the polished wood under them like one would a well-behaved dog. Or lion, in this case. “Sunny’s the best. But that’s not it. Look!”

Law throws him a measured glance to see what he means and gets stuck on the scrap of paper cradled in Luffy’s hand with care, inching straight ahead. “Nami says we’re getting close”, Luffy tells him, voice radiating warmth and giddy anticipation in equal shares. “I can't wait to see them all again!”

Bepo (Bear), it says in Law’s own writing, with a miniscule scribble of the Heart Pirates symbol next to it.

“That’s...”

His train of thought is derailed by the sudden longing wrapping around his heart, there and impossible to push aside. Law misses his crew, misses Bepo’s stupid apologies and Ikkaku’s stern reprimands and the hopeless blush Penguin and Shachi share when a woman merely acknowledges their presence. In hindsight, the months without them seem unbearably lonely, bleak and shadowed without the cozy togetherness of his family and the comforting hum of the Polar Tang all around him.

To Law, giving that Vivre Card to the Strawhats was the last bit of reassurance he needed to make his plan a reality – a wordless promise for them to find his crew and tell them it worked, perhaps some final words, if he got lucky enough to utter them. Now, after, it takes all his resolve not to snatch the precious paper away and never let it out of sight ever again.

He snaps himself out of it in time to stay exactly where he is, opening his mouth without the faintest idea where to begin putting it all into words, but by that point Luffy is already showing him his palm, offering Law everything he holds dear without asking anything in return or even a shred of hesitation.

A captain without a crew is sad and lost. Don’t you know? You deserve to be happy, Law.

In that moment, it doesn’t matter how vulnerable and exposed he felt the night before or that Luffy saw– Law takes the Vivre Card back and holds it up to his eyes, barely blinking as the paper wriggles impatiently between his thumb and index, surrounded by the tender colors of dusk.

“I... When? Tomorrow? The day after?”

“Tomorrow”, Luffy nods and it’s the tone he makes promises with, filled with determination and the courage to dream. He leans back on his hands, says, “Told ya we’ll take you home”, the smile on Luffy’s lips now soft with fondness.

It's an unfamiliar comfort, to watch the sun disappear knowing dawn carries with it a brighter future. For the first time in years, excitement bubbles warmly in Law's chest. Humming, he quietly admits, “Yeah, you did.”

Then Law laughs, rusty and a little awkward, and feels freer than he ever has.

#one piece #trafalgar d. law #monkey d. luffy #fanfiction #lawlu #one piece fanfiction #i just want law to be happy.......#this fic is also on AO3!#my stuff

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empathy-lynx · 4 years

Text

The Last Olympian Timeline (SPOILERS) -Made by Yours Truly-

2009 (Year 4 in Riordanverse)

January

• 28th - Nico turns 12 (not stated in book)

July

• 12th - Annabeth turns 16 (not stated in book)

August [TLO BEGINS]

• 12th - sunset = Percy and Rachel on the beach; Beckedorf interrupts; Rachel kisses Percy [>.<] before they leave; night = Percy and Beckendorf sneak on the Princess Andromeda; Percy distracts monsters (one being giant crab) while Beckendorf sets explosives; Percy gets caught and tries to fight Kronos and finds out their mission was a trap; Beckendorf gets caught, then detonates the explosives and Percy jumps in water to escape explosion and blacks out (Beckendorf doesn’t make it off the boat [cries]); Percy has dream of Mount Tam and Nico saying he needs to make a decision soon

• 13th - Tyson wakes Percy up underwater and tells him about the boat, Beckendorf, and that he’s at Poseidon’s palace; Percy meets Poseidon’s wife and son, then talks with Poseidon and he says to tell Chiron it’s time to hear the full prophecy; afternoon = Percy returns to camp and brings the bittersweet news of the explosion; Percy and Annabeth go to the attic to get the prophecy [Percy states that he didn’t realize it then, but that would be the last time he ever visited the attic]; at the head counselor meeting, Percy reads the prophecy to everyone, most of them (Percy included) hearing it for the first time; Percy learns of Typhon’s escape; night = percy has dream of Rachel and her painting past & future events

• 14th - Percy and Annebeth do cabin inspections; they have burial ceremony for Beckendorf [cries again]; Percy tries and fails to convince Clarisse to fight in the upcoming battle; Percy talks to Juniper and Leneus about Grover missing, then to Nico about the plan to give Percy a fighting chance against Kronos; night = Nico and Percy take Mrs. O’Leary to go visit May Castellan; after their visit they talk with Hestia and then she transports them to Percy’s apartment (Mrs. O’Leary included); Nico and Percy talk with Sally and Paul and get Sally’s blessing for their plan; Percy, Nico, and Mrs. O’Leary shadow travel to Central Park to get to smaller Underworld entrance; they find Grover and tell him he’s been missing for two months; he then opens up the gate to the Underworld

• 15th - early morning = Percy gets tricked by Nico and they talk with Hades; Percy gets locked in the Underworld dungeon; Percy has dream of Rachel on vacation and the gods fighting Typhon; Nico helps Percy escape; Percy bathes in the River Styx; fights Hades’ army and the god himself, but when Percy pins Hades to the ground he fades into nothingness; late afternoon = Percy meets other campers (40 including him, Ares cabin excluded) at the Empire State building; they all go up to Olympus; Hestia greets them, then shows Percy a flashback of when Thalia and Luke met Annabeth, then of them coming up on Luke’s house, then the vision stops; Hermes shows up, and Percy & Annabeth talk to him while everyone else scouts for anyone left on Olympus; they realize that Morpheus has put all of Manhattan to sleep and that the invasion has begun; while they’re planning tunnel blockades, 30 Hunters join the fight; night = Percy makes a deal with the East and Hudson rivers to help them defend the city; on Williamsburg bridge, Percy joins the Apollo cabin and fights the Minotaur and the rest of the army it was leading across

• 16th - early morning = they push them back, but then Kronos joins the fight; Percy and Annabeth fight shoulder to shoulder, then she gets stabbed by Ethan Nakamura protecting Percy’s soft spot; Blackjack gets Annabeth out of there; Percy fights Kronos and destroys the bridge, killing monsters and pushing the army back (Michael Yew didn’t make it of the bridge) [cries yet again]; Percy and Will Solace go to the hotel where they made a base to treat Annabeth’s wound; Jake Mason tells Percy the enemy army retreated at sunrise; Silena leaves to try to convince Clarisse and Ares cabin to join the fight; Percy and Annabeth talk, Percy shows her his Achilles spot, and she tells him about Luke visiting her house the previous year before BOTL; Grover tells Percy he’s rallied most of the nature spirits in the city; Percy, Grover, Thalia, and Jake talk about the spy; Percy goes to rest, and has a dream about Nico learning about his past before the Lotus Casino [totally forgot that Hades had Alecto the Fury wipe their memories in the Lethe before taking them to the Lotus Hotel] and about the curse Hades put on the Oracle; then Percy’s dream changed to show Rachel on the shore and she wrote something in ancient Greek in the sand but Percy only saw his name (Perseus) before it got washed away, and Rachel convincing her father they had to get back to New York immediately in order to get a message to Percy; late afternoon = Thalia wakes Percy up; they go outside to meet Prometheus (a titan), a hyperborean (Morrain), Ethan Nakamura, and an empousa; Prometheus tries to talk Percy into surrendering, then shows him the rest of Luke’s past, continuing from what Hestia showed him; then Prometheus gives Percy Pandora’s Box; when they get back to the hotel, Percy and Thalia talk briefly, then Percy sleeps some more; he has a dream of Tyson and Cyclopes fighting in battle at Poseidon’s palace; dream switched to Ethan and Kronos talking about Annabeth getting stabbed and protecting Percy, then Ethan asks if Luke is still fighting Kronos; dream changed one more time to reveal all that happened to May Castellan when Luke was a baby; evening/night = battle in Central Park; Percy fights Hyperion and creates personal hurricane; they defeat Hyperion, but then Kronos unleashes his surprise: the Clazmonian Sow (giant flying sow); Percy activates lion statues to defeat giant pig; Percy helps Annabeth kill a Hyperborean; late night = they fought and fought until they were backed up a block from the Empire State Building from every direction; they’re about to retreat to the doors when the Party Ponies join the fight

• 17th - very early morning (still dark) - they push back the Titan army, then regroup; Chiron fills Percy and Annabeth in on Typhon’s progress, how Mr. D is missing and Hephaestus is too injured to rejoin; morning = Percy and Annabeth talk for a bit; Percy looks around at all the injured, then is suddenly transported to a “dingy bar”; Percy talks with Mr. D and he warns that if the gods are defeated the entirety of Western Civilization will come undone; then he admits that the Olympians need heroes; Mr. D warns that Kronos’ current form is temporary, and by the next day he will burn away his host (Luke) and his very presence will incinerate anyone who's near him and he will make the other titans more powerful; Mr. D returns Percy (it’s as though he never left) and he sees his mom and Paul asleep in their car; Rachel shows up in a helicopter and Annabeth saves her from crashing after the pilot falls asleep; Percy and Rachel talk about what’s been happening with her (visions and such), and she tells him the message in the sand was “Perseus, you are not the hero”; Rachel and Chiron go and talk while Percy takes a nap; he has a dream about Nico trying to convince Hades (in the presence of Persephone and Demeter) to join and fight in the war; the dream changed to Kronos talking with Ethan and Prometheus and telling them to unleash the drakon immediately; afternoon = Percy wakes up and warns them and they try their best to prepare (down to 16 campers, 15 hunters, and 6 satyrs in fighting shape, and a lot of drunk Party Ponies); Percy and Mrs. O’Leary charge the drakon, and Percy stabs one of its eyes; 30 Ares campers join the fight, with “Clarisse” leading them; the real Clarisse shows up after the fake gets sprayed with poison, then Clarisse defeats the drakon single-handedly; the fake Clarisse is revealed to be Selena Beauregard, and she confesses to being the spy, then dies from her injuries [cries one more time but definitely not the last time]; Clarisse then fights and drives back the enemy with the blessing of Ares; they regroup in Empire State building and Percy sends Mrs. O’Leary on an errand; Percy, Annabeth, and Grover go up to Olympus and into the throne room; Grover and Annabeth leave Percy and Rachel to talk with Hestia; Percy gives Pandora’s Jar and Hope to Hestia; Percy sits on Poseidon’s throne, gets his attention, and convinces Poseidon to come help defend Olympus; evening/night = Thalia comes in and says that the enemy is advancing with Kronos leading them; when they get down there, Chiron and Kronos are having a stare-down, then the two of them fight; Chiron gets thrown into a wall and buried under rubble; as Kronos is about to attack again, Mrs. O’Leary and Nico join the fight, along with an entire undead army, Persephone, Demeter, and Hades himself; Kronos seals himself, the demigods, and the Empire State Building off, collapsing the magic around the rest of Manhattan; all Hades breaks loose [pun intended]; Paul and Sally join the fight; late night = Percy, Annabeth, Thalia, and Grover head into the building and up towards Olympus, following Kronos; Annabeth almost falls to her death (MoA parallel); Thalia gets pinned under Hera statue; Percy fights Kronos and Annabeth and Grover fight Ethan Nakamura; Annabeth gets knocked aside, Percy tries to reason with Ethan, then Ethan attacks Kronos, but he gets injured then falls through a hole in the ground made by Kronos and dies; Percy and Kronos fight more, then Kronos freezes time and shows Percy images of the fight going on and of Typhon approaching; Poseidon and his army join the fight against Typhon and they defeat him

• 18th - Percy turns 16; early morning (probably still dark out) = Annabeth gets through to Luke, Percy gives Luke Annabeth’s dagger, then Luke stabs himself, defeating Kronos; after some final words, Luke dies, shortly after the gods come in and Percy says they need a burial shroud for a son of Hermes; next few hours: the gods repair the throne room, Zeus lights up the Empire State Building blue for Sally, Percy greets those who survived, Nico and Hades were welcomed on Olympus as heroes, Percy talks briefly with Mr. D and Grover, Poseidon’s army comes into the throne room and Tyson tackle Percy; Poseidon congratulates Percy and gives him a hug; Olympian council takes place; they call up Thalia, then Tyson who’s appointed general, Grover who becomes a member of the Council of Cloven Elders, Annabeth who is assigned with redesigning and rebuilding Olympus; then Percy is called up and offered immortality, but he turns it down, requesting instead that: the gods claim *all* their children by age 13, Calypso and other peaceful titan-kind b e pardoned, and that the Big Three oath be undone; Percy talks with Hermes; as he’s leaving, Athena talks briefly with Percy; afternoon = when him and Annaebth reach the lobby, they’re greeted by Sally and Paul, then Nico runs in and says that Rachel took Blackjack to CHB; Annabeth, Percy, and Nico get to camp as Rachel becomes the new Oracle; then Rachel spouts the Prophecy of Seven [Apollo says it may not even be in Percy’s lifetime… HA, how wrong he was, as it takes place not even a full year after]; the rest of the day: campers came back from Manhattan, the dead were given proper funeral rights at the campfire, and dinner was lowkey; night/dark = after dinner and the crowd had lessened, Annabeth sat next to Percy at the Poseidon table and gave him a cupcake (made by herself and Tyson) and wished him happy birthday, and he realized that he hadn’t realized that it had been his birthday; they talk, she kisses him, then they get thrown in the lake and kiss some more

• next two weeks (camp went two weeks longer, leading right up to the school year) - new demigods popped up all over the place, all were claimed and brought to CHB with help of satyrs; new cabins for Hades and minor gods being built

September

• 1st [exactly 2 weeks after Percy’s birthday, but it’s in the middle of the week, so this exact date is unknown] - last day of camp; late afternoon = Percy talks with Poseidon [dude, Poseidon jokes about claiming all his other kids and sending Percy some siblings then he gave Percy one of his inside joke winks and Percy still wasn’t sure if he was serious or not. I know that Rick probably won’t make another Poseidon kid, but you never know]; evening = last night at camp and bead ceremony, the bead having a picture of the Empire State Building and all the names of the fallen campers in Greek

• 2nd [?] - Percy, Annabeth, and Rachel stand at the top of Half-Blood Hill; Rachel says goodbye; Percy and Annabeth talk briefly before racing each other to the road; “And for once, I didn’t look back.”

[TLO ENDS]

• within the next week - Percy starts 10th grade

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TLO / PJO Prophecy

A half-blood of the eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen against all odds,

And see the world in endless sleep,

The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap

A single choice shall end his days

Olympus to preserve or raze

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Lightning Thief Timeline

The Sea of Monsters Timeline

The Titan’s Curse Timeline

The Battle of the Labyrinth Timeline

PJ & the Sword of Hades (Short Story) Timeline/Summary

PJ & the Bronze Dragon (Short Story) Timeline/Summary

HOO Timelines (leads to TLH)

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chimbbles · 5 years

Text

anybody ever thinks about doctor!hendery? because that’s the first thing that popped into my mind the second I saw him

T/W: mentions of blood, and I'm sorry I keep bringing up tetanus I don't mean to mock it or anything

it wasn’t a big deal, but the constant ringing in your head was getting harder to differentiate between a migraine and your incessant worries building up

days ago you were fixing up a shelf from ikea, your roommate having suggested you guys get a proper apparatus to house your various clutters

both of you went at it for the whole night, after coming home from a long day’s worth of work and neither of you denied the tiny spark of regret for getting something you can’t really handle at 1am in the morning

at last, the cheap metal frame is up, a job well done rewarded by crashing into the couch and dozing off right there

morning came and the shelf was thoroughly forgotten, even with its huge size propped right in front you

the effect of the iconic, “I’m late for work”

throwing yourself off the couch you ignored your hard work and skidded past absentmindedly, until it reminded you with a nasty gash in the shower

if your pinky toe was stinging in the water, it felt way worse when soap ran down your body

you had to stop and check, clenching your teeth at the act of rinsing off the soap to get a good look, and voila

a fresh cut just below your cuticle, long and crimson till it reaches the joint

you definitely don’t have time for this

so you slap on some antibacterial cream, stick on a band-aid and call it class one first aid with 5 minutes till work starts

the day was: bad

not only you had to run, your shoes covered your wounded toe and you honestly doubt it does more to protect rather than harm it

your boss was obviously not impressed, and you’re stuck with a self appointed adult detention with a foul, cold sandwich titled gruesome lunch; at the set venue of your cubicle

having been reminded by the constant ache on your toe, you made it a point to text your roommate, informing them you two had built a death machine

they, however, took the joke a little too literally, and from the moment after lunch, they kept texting you to get it checked out

“what if it’s tetanus?”

“you could die from an infection!”

“are you sure the cream isn’t expired?”

“did you apply it properly”

“get it checked out you might be at risk”

and that’s why you’re here man no pun intended

where once again, things weren’t this serious, and were blew out of proportion

your self appointed detention unfortunately lasted for days, long as your boss was happy, and your punishment was a huge project with a short deadline

you pulled overtime for a straight 3 days now, and the projects almost there, just one day left

the all-nighter you suffered through proved efficient when you finished the project at near 5am in the morning, rumours of company ghosts no longer scare you when you roam amongst them as a comrad

your zombified limbs pack up by themselves, brain too damaged from the cups of coffee chugged down your throat at the ungodly hours

your roommate’s nagging makes its appearance again, buzzing through your brain like a broken record

“you could have tetanus, it’s metal!”

you remember there’s a hospital on the route back home, so why not? staying up longer it doesn’t quite matter at this point

the reception desk threw a fit when they heard you connect the words ‘tetanus’ and ‘a few days ago’

that’s how you end up in line at the ER, instead of the intended clinic visit

it’s eerily chilly, with the bland white walls staring back at you

without you knowing it; the whirring of the busy machines and clinking of metal appliances lulls your tired figure to sleep, head leaning back and mouth open in a silent snore

“oh my goodness they blacked out”

“we need help here!”

within seconds your body was hauled onto a stretcher and pulled away in a whim, straight into a private room with an unsuspecting doctor

“came in saying they might have tetanus and the wound’s a few days old. ER’s full from a car crash and they just blacked out in the hall,”

“temperature’s rising, I think the fever started to set in, if you could take a look first dr.wong-”

“sure, sure”

‘dr.wong’ rounds the edge of his table to plant himself beside you, and you think the only regret you don’t have for the night is seeing his handsome face

he reads the thermometer before plucking the pen lodged at the opening of his white coat,

“okay, I need you to focus on this pen, follow it with your eyes, alright?”

of course he doesn’t wait for your agreement before waving the pen in front of you, and your slow brain can’t receive stimuli that well while it’s raving on caffeine

“I’m getting slow response, fetch the vaccine now,”

one of the nurses hurriedly leaves the room, leaving one to stay and help the doctor,

he picks up the stethoscope from his desk and plugs the two ends into his ears, “alright, I need you to breathe for me,”

“and check the wound, please”

the nurse nods and springs into action, and your brain-- finally-- comes back to life

your grab the hand that’s holding the metal plate with both of yours, surprising him and making him go wide-eyed

but what do you say???

it could be tetanus but you don’t feel unwell at all, and you really, really don’t want a pissed off nurse to glare at you for the false alarm

also, you don’t want anyone to look at your ugly toes

“are you okay? does it hurt?”

the nurse stops taking off your shoe at the mention of pain, and waits for further instructions from the doctor

you bite down the embarrassment for your lame excuse, and gesture roughly to your throat, “....water”

they both share a concerned look, before the nurse moves and heads towards the door with a “I’ll be right back doctor”

now that you’re left with him alone, you feel less anxious about the whole situation, and sit up properly to talk to him

“I don’t have tetanus,”

you can see him processing your words before he lets out a hearty chuckle, “having tetanus isn’t illegal or contagious, we won’t throw you in quarantine,”

“no, no, I told them I don’t think it’s tetanus, it’s merely a cut from metal-- yes, but it’s not infected or anything, I just came here for a confirmation,”

he pauses to mull over your words, before taking off your shoe and tugging at your socks,

“I’m fine, really, I think this was a mistake-”

your socks successfully comes off, and he’s tentatively ripping your band-aid off, trying not to provoke the wound any further

when the wrapping comes off, he’s not too impressed by his present, which you think he fully expects a nasty, nasty wound, with yellow mucus oozing out from the opening and rotten flesh scent-- instead of a clean, clear, thread sized cut

“and I didn’t black out, I’m just very tired and the coffee’s not helping,”

he looks up from your foot and seems so confused, so you do him a favour to explain at the best your brain allows you to

by the time the nurse is back, you two had ran through a quick summary of your activities for the past few days, and her cup of water is the perfect solution to a real, dry throat

“patient does not have tetanus, a false alarm, but they’re still gonna require a shot, just in case,”

he gestures to your foot and she looks fairly annoyed, but says nothing at the presence of a doctor

she excuses herself to help out outside, and dr.wong sits back at his desk to wait for the vaccine, while you lay your head down to rest

“I think she hates me,”

he laughs, “nah, we just haven’t had a tetanus case in a while, I think she got too worked up,”

the other nurse comes back with your vaccine, and helps clean up your arm for the injection, “you’re not scared of needles, are you?”

you can taste the amusement in the air, tension lifted and light in the air thanks to his teasing, “patient does not have an infection, but is taking a shot for proper measures, and the high body temp is caused from lack of sleep for days, and a slightly inflamed liver, does not require further care, but a follow up is needed in a month’s time,”

the nurse scribbles your prescription while he stabs your arm with the long needle, and you try your best not to panic

after the nurse leaves the room, you two are left alone once again, and the ambiguous question hangs in the air, “am I allowed to leave now?”

he peers up from his book, “yes, but it’s 5:37am now, and my shift ends at 6; if you could stay a bit longer,” he trails off,

he senses your confusion and hurriedly explains himself, “I’m trying to avoid having breakfast with someone, and I’m no longer needed for emergency cases, it would be nice to have some peace and quiet,”

“you could take a nap-- I’ll wake you at 6,”

“can you put in a good word for me with the nurses?”

“deal.”

“can we eat breakfast too?” words kind of jumbled up from your fatigue

he takes a bit longer to respond, and by the time he does, you don’t hear it-- having already fallen asleep on the white stretcher,

“sure, that’ll be nice.”

114 notes · View notes

rogertaylors-lipgloss · 5 years

Text

College AU! John Deacon x Reader: Roommates to Lovers Req. Pt. 1/?

A/N: obviously the timeline in this story does not quite match-up with reality, but this is a work of fiction.

Original Request

@supersugarytea asked:

“Hey I was wondering if you could do a fanfiction where the reader lives with John Deacon and the reader meets Roger Taylor starts falling for him but when she confesses to him he turns her down. When you get home John senses there is something wrong with the reader and comforts her Roger goes to see her the next day only to find her sleeping with John and gets jealous.”

I am so so so so so so so sorry for how long this took me, please forgive me! BUT, I do finally have something for you, so I really hope you like it. I did tweak the prompt just a bit to where Reader already knows Rog but it follows essentially the same premise, I hope that’s okay! I also made this an AU where reader and the rest of Queen all go to the same school. I am in love with John Richard Deacon and since this will be my first fic with him, I really wanted it to be perfect and I liked this prompt so much that I’m turning it into a multi-shot (again, I hope that’s okay).

Warnings: Angst and Fluff. Smut to come (pun intended).

Word Count: 3, 017 (Hence, why I made it a multi-shot).

As always, I hope you guys like this and please please please reblog! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this fic or my permanent taglist and send me an ask if you have a request!

Masterlist

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

*beep*beep*beep*

You rolled over and slapped the top of your alarm clock, silencing the menace. If I skip washing my hair, I can sleep another 30 minutes, you thought, and closed your eyes. But before you could drift back off, the door to your bedroom flew open and you felt the bed drop behind you under the weight of your roommate, John.

“No, no, no.” You buried your face into your pillow.

“Oh, yes, yes, yes, Y/N.” His fingers brushed your hair out of your face while his other hand rubbed circles on your back. “You told me, and I quote, ‘Deacy, don’t let my lazy ass oversleep on the first day of classes.’”

You groaned. He was right. You sat up and threw your legs over the side of the bed. John laughed at your hideous bedhead, and you shot him a glare. It was so hard for you to be mad at him, though. Looking him up and down, you could tell that he had clearly be awake long enough to get dressed. His long, curly brown hair freshly blow-dried and brushed, hanging neatly past his shoulders. He was dressed in a long-sleeved, dark Navy button-up shirt tucked into brown corduroy bells, white clogs adorning his feet. Handsome as ever, you thought to yourself.

“I showered last night so that you would have plenty of hot water. Go get ready and I’ll fix breakfast.” By breakfast, he meant cheese on toast for himself and just coffee for you.

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite?” He laughed, giving your shoulder a squeeze before leaving your room.

You relished the feeling of the hot water pouring over your skin. The scalding liquid left your skin red, but that was just how you liked it. John knew that. Only he could be so considerate. You had randomly picked up a roommate flyer on campus when you’d first moved to start at Imperial College and somehow ended up with the best friend you’d ever had in John. The two of you had hit it off immediately and you moved into his apartment the next day.

Once dressed, you met John in the kitchen, where he handed you a steaming mug. “Thanks, love.” You gave him a peck on the cheek and turned grab your backpack. John’s heart swelled, but he quickly suppressed the emotion. He’d come to the decision a long time ago to never act on his feelings for you. He would much rather pine from afar than risk losing you forever.

You felt the same way. Every small act of kindness John threw your way set your heart on fire. Sure that you were reading too much into it, you kept your true feelings under lock and key. Your life was better with him than without, and you worried that any confession on your part would send him running in the opposite direction.

Pulling himself out of his own thoughts, John cleared his throat and looked to you. “Are you ready?” Nodding, you grabbed the keys to John’s car and tossed them to him. You followed close behind as he led the two of you out the front door.

Your morning rides to campus were some of your favorite moments with John, as they were some of his with you. No talking, just singing along to whatever music you’d settled on that particular day. You pulled a cassette tape out of the glovebox and pushed it into the radio dash. A smile played on the corners of John’s lips as the sounds of Elton John’s most recent album, Honky Chateau flooded the speakers. You fast-forwarded the tape to play “Rocketman,” which was no surprise to John. He knew it had been stuck in your head for a while, having heard it seeping through the wall your two bedrooms shared. He learned early on that you fell asleep listening to music, and if it had been anyone else he would have complained. He often found himself humming along to whatever tune you’d selected for the evening, sometimes even drifting off himself. If he couldn’t share your bed, this was the next best thing, he thought. It made him feel connected to you.

You sang out every word. John loved how raw your voice was, like honey. His heart sank when he saw campus come into view, knowing he’d have to wait until later to hear it again. You looked over at John as he maneuvered the car into a parking place, his long, brown hair creeping over his eyes. Without thinking, you reached over and tucked it behind his ears. Your touch made him blush and he turned his head so you couldn’t see.

“See you at home?” You asked, unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for your bag that you’d tossed in the back.

“Are you not riding back with me?” John looked at you, confused.

You shook your head. “I’ve got lab today, so Rog is going to give me a ride home.”

You’d moved in with John before he joined the group now known as Queen, so the boys considered you to be as much a part of the band as he was. You’d made fast friends with Brian, Freddie, and Roger, and it was Roger who’d convinced you to take biology this semester. You were absolute shit at science of any kind, but he hadn’t wanted to take the class alone and swore up and down that he wouldn’t let you fail. You had begrudgingly agreed, much to the chagrin of John. He had nothing against Roger, they were close friends, but he knew the affect the blonde drummer had on women.

“Right. Forgot about that,” he mumbled, turning the car off and fumbling with his own seatbelt.

You slid your arms through the straps of your backpack and waved at John as you headed in the opposite direction of his first class. “Later, Deacs!”

It had already been a long day by the time you trudged into the science building. The professor for your first class had greeted you with a pop quiz to “see what you remembered” from the previous semester (which was nothing), and the professor in the class after that had decided that the first day of class was the perfect time to assign your first essay of the semester. Lunch was your only reprieve. The caf had been serving pizza, the only thing it could make that didn’t taste like it’d been soaking in dirty grease for a week beforehand. You managed to find your class with Roger just in time for the professor to call roll.

You quickly slid into the seat Roger had saved for you, and he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Cutting it a bit close, eh? I can only help you pass if you actually show up.” You elbowed him in the ribs and turned to deliver a snappy comeback when the professor cleared his throat.

“Something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” The older man peered over the rim of his glasses at you and Roger, waiting for either of you to dare to make a move. The two of you went pale and shook your heads. “Didn’t think so.” As the professor moved on with roll, you pulled out your notebook and started doodling. Next to you, Roger bounced his leg.

The professor eventually finished going over the syllabus and instructed the class to get out their textbooks. “Um, Y/N?” Roger tapped on your shoulder and when you turned his blue eyes were looking up at you widely. “I haven’t gotten the book yet, think we could share?”

You smiled and scooted your chair a little closer to his, positioning the large biology textbook between you on the table. Your legs brushed against each other, and he winked as he leaned forward to scan the pages. Something was off. You watched Roger as he stared blankly at the page in front of him and you had the inkling that he wasn’t actually taking in any of the information.

Feeling your gaze on him, Roger squeezed his eyes shut before they fluttered open again, as if that would somehow suddenly restore his shitty vision to full-functionality. His eyesight had been steadily worsening over the past year despite his desperate pleas to whatever higher power he could think of. He hadn’t told Fred, Deacy, or Brian yet. Glasses weren’t exactly a part of the rock n’ roll image Queen was going for. Roger silently prayed that you would just let it go, but he knew you too well and the way you were looking at him indicated that you had figured it out. He sighed heavily as the professor dismissed the class, but you stayed glued to your seat, eyes still fixed on him. Roger waited for the room to clear out before finally turning to meet your stare. Your features softened as you took in the pained expression on his face.

“Rog,” you started, and he started to turn away but you reached out and took hold of his elbow, stopping him before he could escape. He spun to look at you, a look of distress hiding in his eyes. “Roger, are you okay?”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a sigh. Regaining himself, he flashed you one of his dazzling, toothy smiles that you’d seen him use on countless groupies. “Course, Y/N. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Are you having trouble with your vision?”

His gaze shifted to the floor, head dropping in defeat. He nodded.

“Loads of people have to wear glasses, it’s not the end of the world.”

Roger’s head shot up. “It would be for me. Queen is just getting started, we haven’t even recorded an album yet. Record labels are looking for a certain image and glasses don’t really scream ‘I am a drummer in a rock n’ roll band.’”

It surprised you how seriously he took this. “Have you tried going to the optometrist? At the very least, you need to know if this is something that could get worse. I’ll even drive you, if you like.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You would really do that for me?”

You nodded and he responded by wrapping you up into a bear hug. After releasing you, he said, “Thank you, Y/N. Uh, please don’t tell anyone else about this. I know it sounds silly, but I don’t want the guys making fun of me.” You nodded. “I guess I better take you home now, yeah?”

“That would be great, but I think I’d feel a little better if you let me drive.” You both laughed at that and he tossed you the keys as the two of you made your way out of the classroom and towards the parking lot.

-------

John was sitting in the windowsill of his bedroom, staring out the window and practicing on his bass as he waited for you to come home. His heart skipped a beat when Roger’s car finally pulled up to the curb, but then sank when he saw you get out of the driver’s side of the car. His brow furrowed in confusion. Roger never let anyone drive his car, that is unless… he was trying to impress a girl. John’s blood pressure increased as Roger climbed out of the passenger side and walked over to you, his arms pulling you into a tight hug before waving goodbye. John was furious. He had confided in Roger about his feelings for you a while back, how could he do something like this?

He didn’t have long to dwell on the supposed betrayal as he heard your keys jangling in the front door lock. John picked up his bass and moved to the bed so it wouldn’t look like he’d been waiting for you.

When your keys finally clicked in the lock, you opened the door and shrugged your backpack off, leaving it on the floor as you searched for your roommate. Following the soft strums of his bass guitar, you found him perched upon his bed. He was certainly a sight for sore eyes.

He pretended not to have heard you come in, only looking up from his guitar to acknowledge your presence when he felt you belly-flop onto the mattress.

You sat up to sit next to him, leaning your head against his shoulder as he continued to pick at the bass strings. Looking down at you, he knew he couldn’t stay mad, at least not at you. He set the guitar to the side and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders before bending down to press a kiss to the top of your hair. Just friends, you had to remind yourself again. “Long first day?” he asked, and you nodded against his shoulder. “Me too.”

He sighed and rested his chin on top of your head. John wanted to ask you about Roger, but he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the moment. The two of you sat like that for a few more moments when you disentangled yourself from his embrace and stood in front of him. Locking your eyes with his hazel ones, you smiled. “Cheese toast?” Your question brought a smile to his face as he nodded, getting up to follow you into the kitchen.

Just as you’d finished the toast and were about to sit down next to John on the couch, the phone rang. You started to stand, but John beat you to the phone. “Hullo?”

John immediately recognized the voice on the other end as Roger’s. “Uh, hey Deacs, is uh Y/N there?”

John scowled. “Yes, why?”

“I need to talk to her about, uh, biology stuff. Yeah, biology stuff.”

You noticed the curious look on John’s face and called out to him. “Is everything alright, love?”

John resisted the urge to lie and say it was a telemarketer, instead opting to hold out the phone for you. “S’for you. It’s Roger.”

Strange, you thought. Why would Deacy be upset about Roger calling for me? But you didn’t have time to decipher his strange behavior at the moment and walked across the living room and into the kitchen to take the phone from him. John returned to the couch and pretended to be channel surfing while he attempted to listen in on your conversation.

You sidled up to the wall and pressed the plastic phone to your ear, finger twisting the chord. “Rog?”

“Y/N! Hey, so I was able to make an appointment for tomorrow afternoon around 4:30. You don’t have any classes then, do you? Shit I probably should have asked first.”

You laughed. “I get out of class at 3:30. Meet me in the library at 4?”

John went rigid on the couch. Based only on what he could hear from you, it sounded as if you and Roger were planning a date.

“Sounds good, Y/N. See you tomorrow, and thanks again.”

The line went dead and you replaced the phone on the hook. John frowned, but quickly settled on a channel to avoid suspicion as you made your way back over to the couch.

As you sat down, John attempted nonchalance, casually glancing at you as he said, “So, what did he want?”

Your cheeks flushed a light pink color as you scrambled to think of an excuse. “Oh, uh, he just had a couple of study questions. Y’know, for biology.”

One of John’s eyebrows shot up. “Studying already? Today was only the first day back.”

You gulped and stared at the television, desperate to avoid eye contact. All you could muster up was a quiet “yep.” He knew you better than anyone and could always tell when you were lying because you’d always grit your teeth, just like you were doing right now. He decided not to press the matter any further, just nodding slightly before settling deeper into the back of the couch.

Why didn’t you want him to know you were dating Roger? It doesn’t make any sense, he thought. You’d told him when some guy in one of your classes felt you up in the bathroom at the local pub. John’s jealousy had flared when you had, but he kept it to himself as usual (if only he’d known that the only reason you’d let Greg Leyland touch you because if you blurred your eyes he looked-vaguely-like John). What if you’d found out about his feelings for you? What if you weren’t telling him about Roger because you felt bad for him? John started to feel angry, he didn’t want to be pitied.

Trying to move past the conversation, you picked up the remote that sat between you and John on the couch and turned the volume up on the TV. You set it back down on the other side of you and scooched closer to John, laying your head on his shoulder. He tensed up underneath you and you wished you could just tell him; you didn’t even understand why Roger was so worried. Freddie and Brian might make a few jokes at first, but they weren’t total arseholes. You hated lying to John. Even if he wasn’t your boyfriend, he was still your best friend.

John tried desperately to harden his resolve seeing your head on his shoulder made him melt all over again, however begrudgingly. Sighing, he wrapped his arm around you and let your head fall to rest on his chest. God, how you wished you had the courage to just reach up and pull his lips down to yours.

John longed to pull you tight against his chest and kiss you but restrained himself. Surely if you had reciprocated his feelings, you would have said so by now? In not saying anything, he thought, perhaps you were sending a silent message to let him down gently. The two of you just sat there both lost in thoughts of the other, unbeknownst to either party, silently watching the telly until you both fell asleep.

------

Fic Taglist: @supersugarytea

Permanent Taglist: @chocolatealmondmilkshake @disasterdeacy

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noir-porker-parker-holland · 5 years

Text

Lullaby

Peter Parker x stark!reader & baby!stark

When my mom got pregnant with me, she hid from Tony till I was 9. Then she was diagnosed with a disease that wasn't curable at the time. She passed 4 months after she was diagnosed.

My mom's sister, my aunt decided it was best to give me the best shot, so she gave me to my father. Tony Mother-fucking Stark. Pun intended.

I knocked on the door while my aunt watched me from the seat of her car. Tears streamed down my face, as the door open.

My aunt ran out of her car and came to stand next to me. The man with blonde hair came out, “yes?” He said. “Down her sir,” I said. “Are you lost sweetie?” Auntie Charlie came running towards us yelling for us to wait. “Sir, this is my niece y/n, her mother just passed away and her dad is Tony Stark. According to her mom, she-uh slept with him and well then found out she was pregnant with her,”She explained. This blonde man looked surprised. “Miss,” he started but Charlie cut him off. “Sir please, do a test and you will see she his. Just look at his face.” He looked down and sighed. “I'll try.” She handed him her card and other information about me and her. “This all of her information, including my phone number.”

She got down on my level, and looked at me tears stinging her eyes. “Baby,” she started as I sniffled. I felt the man behind me stare at our encounter. “I'll be back as soon as as we know ok?” “Charlie don't leave me here,” I sobbed. “i'll be I promise.” She hugged me. “I'll be back here as soon as possible ok?” I nodded. I watched her walk to her car wiping her tears. She drove off and the man behind me tapped my shoulder. “Y/n why don't we get you inside?” He said softly. I sobbed but grabbed his extended hand nonetheless.

He left me in the living room and by that point I had stopped crying but I was sniffling. I could hear two men talking in the kitchen behind me but could only make it some words. “Tony, take the papers she might be yours.” “Steve, I slept with lots of girls who knows if she's mine.” “Then take the damn test!” I heard footsteps come close, and I felt somebody sit next to me. “Y/n, I’m Steve, will you come with me?” Steve asked outstretching his hand. I grabbed it and let him lead me somewhere. A man with dark hair stood in front of us. “Tony,” he started. “This is y/n. Her mom passed away recently and well her aunt dropped her off here. So take the paternity test now and settle this,”Steve said. “Sir, with all due respect I heard what he said, so please take me back to Auntie Charlie. So please, take me back,” I pleaded. Sure I was 9 but I was pretty smart for a nine year old. The stood there dumbfounded as I walked back into the living room.

I sat there, waiting but nothing. “Y/n spit into the bottle till this black line please,” Steve said. I gave him the bottle and waited again.

“What's for dinner?” A woman's voice boomed through the living room. “Uh guys there is a little girl in the living.” I turned around to see a bundle of people just looking at me. Steve came out of the kitchen, “oh that's y/n, her aunt dropped her off because her mom passed and she might be Tony's child,” he explained. The red headed woman came over to me, “Hi honey, I'm Natasha,” she said shaking my hand. “Hi,”I said. “Why don't you join us for dinner,” She said taking me to the table.

Dinner was awkward because everybody felt as though they needed to treat me with kiddy gloves. “Y/n we have a extra room if you want to go to sleep,” Steve said. I looked at the clock on the wall 8:47. I shrugged but followed him to room nonetheless. I put my backpack on the bed and sat down next to it. “I live in the room across the hall and Natasha lives right next to you, so if you need us that's where we'll be.” He left the room and I was left alone in the big room.

“Steve, I need to talk to you,” Tony said as he took him to the lab. “Is she yours?” He asked. “Bruce and I have looked at it all night, and yeah she's mine.” “Thank God, that little girl is in need to a dad right now.” Steve started to leave to go tell her but Tony grabbed his arm. “Cap, I appreciate what you're doing but if I'm her father- because I'm her father I need to do this myself.”

The door opened and I had to tear my eyes from the book I was reading. “Where's Steve?” I asked quietly. “He's in his room but before you talk to him I need to tell you something. Uh- we ran the tests and well it was a match. You are my daughter,” he said trying to gauge my reaction as his words left his lips. I sat with a straight face. “Ok, can I call my auntie Charlie?” “I'm sorry but how are you feeling with all of this?” “Fine.” He looked confused as though he expected a big reaction from a nine year old. “Are you going to be ok y/n?” He asked and I nodded. He finally left the room and I waited a bit before knocking on the door right across from mine. “hey y/n, what's up?” Steve asked. “Can I call auntie Charlie?” He nodded and let me inside he neatly kept room. I waited for her to answer but she never did, I hung up the phone and ran to my room. The person I cherished the most won't even answer my calls.

---

8 Years later.

I had just gotten home from a run, and I was rummaging through the fridge for anything to eat. All of a sudden I hear 2 voices echoing through the long hall. I turned to see who it was and it was my father and a boy. I looked at my dad confused. “Oh Peter this is my daughter y/n,” he introduced. I stretched out my hand to shake his and his were clamming up. “Hey I’m pe-peter parker,” he said instantly regretting it. “nice to meet you Peter. I'm going to go shower. See you ‘round Parker.”

-Later-

“Y/n, Peter is coming over to work on some designs with you,” Tony said interrupting my conversation with Steve and Bucky. “What designs?” I asked turning to him. “His gadget designs for his suits.” I nodded. Sure, Peter and I have hung out on various occasions but it's always awkward for me because I have a tiny (major) crush on him. Little did I know he had a major crush on me.

“Hey y/n,” Peter said coming over to me. “Hey Parker,” “ready to work on the designs?” He cringed as to how he said that. “Sure. Bye guys.” We walked to my room and we were left in an awkward silence.

“Alright so I think we should add a pressure to the electric webs so that when you shoot it, they go flying but it electrocutes the people around them,” I explained as Peter watched me, entranced by my lips moving and my voice speaking. “Huh- oh yeah yeah,” he agreed. When my dad told me that Peter was coming over I convinced myself to finally tell Peter how I feel, no matter if my feelings are unrequited. He wrote some equations in his notebook as I chewed on my lip. “Peter?” “Hmm?” “I need to tell you something,” I said. “ok,” he elongated. “This may come to you as a surprise but I really like you, more than a friend sort of way.” He sat there surprised and didn't say anything which didn't ease my nerves. “You know what Peter just forget I ever said anything, but going back to these equations-,” he cut me off by grabbing my chin and pulling me towards his lips. “If you didn't realized I like you too but what were you saying about the equations?” He asked. “The equations can wait,” I muttered before pulling him towards my lips.

---

3 years later

“Y/n, pepper and I have to tell you something,” Tony said as I watched a movie with Peter in my room. Pepper followed Tony and she giggled like a school girl out of nowhere. “What's up?” I asked furrowing my brows. “Pepper and I have been married for a while and well-” he got interrupted by pepper. “We're pregnant!!” She said. I sprung up from my seat next to Peter and squealed like a girl telling her friends she got her first kiss. “Oh my God, going to have a little brother or sister!!”I squealed.

The rest of the bunch ears me and came out of their rooms to ask was all the commotion was about. “I'm going to have a brother or sister!” I told them. They gathered around Pepper and Tony and congratulated them on their unborn child. They hugged the pair and I thought about my unborn sibling and got the chills.

---

Now

Pepper and Tony had Morgan about 5 years ago and I love her so much. She latched onto me when she was younger and did not let go. Both metaphorically and literally. In 5 years things changed a lot. Pepper and Tony had Morgan, Bucky and Nat decided to give a relationship a try, Peter and I got married as well as pregnant. For 25 year olds we were far along. Married and having an unborn child.

But of course being pregnant comes with pros and cons and I was living through the cons right now. I flipped all around in bed trying to find that perfect position but I could never find it. As I twisted one more time, the door opened and a little girl came into the room. “Morgan, what are you doing awake?” I said quietly trying not to wake Peter, who was sleeping soundly, up. “I couldn't sleep. Can you help?” She asked and I nodded

I got out of bed and picked up Morgan to take her to the living room where I could lull her without anybody listening to me or me waking anybody up. On my way out I looked at the clock and realized it was 2 in the morning. Whilst in the living room, I gave her some warm milk and cradles her like a baby. I started to hum a lullaby and I could visibly see her eyes get heavy. I waited a couple minutes before I took her to her room just to make sure she was asleep. Little did I know, Peter had woken up and was actually watching my movements with Morgan, but before I turned around he had left before I saw or heard something. I walked to Morgan's room to put her gently down onto her bed before giving her a kiss and covering her with her blankets. I walked out of the room without a sound then walked to my room to see Peter awake waiting for me. “Why are you awake babe?” I asked. “you weren't here so I left to find you,” he said. “And while looking for you, I saw you taking care of Morgan like she was your child.” “Oh yeah, she couldn't sleep so u helped her out,” I said. “y/n you are going to be a great mom. You are already practicing on Morgan,” he chuckled.

He got up to give me soft kiss on the kiss, “I love you y/n,” he started. He got on his knees to pull up my shirt to give a kiss to my growing belly. “And I love you baby.” He got back on his normal level before I kissed him, “i love you, Peter Parker.”

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a/n; Hoped you liked it!

#peter parker #peter parker one shots #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker blurbs #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shots #tom holland imagines #tom holland x you

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womanoflettersinthebunker · 5 years

Text

He’d already checked over the library and the texts, he also had checked Sam’s laptop files and a bunch of the other scrolls that she had found when they first discovered the bunker.

Where else could he check? What else was there? There was that damned, pun intended, book of the damned that Rowena kept trying to get her hands on. There were countless other spellbooks in the bunker that he couldn’t even dream of deciphering. He’d need a witch, a strong and smart witch, to be able to read it.

The fact that he was minutes away from calling Rowena and giving her access to all those spellbooks in the hope that she’d find a way to bring Sam back was just another excuse to show how much he was at the end of his rope.

He heard the kid timidly come into the room he was in, stopping a few feet from him. Dean ignored him and instead moved one of the texts on the table.

“Dean, I want to talk to you.” the kid said, it was obvious he was trying to be brave and confident but his slightly wavering voice gave him away.

“No.” Dean said curtly, not bothering to look up.

It took a moment but the kid spoke again. “I really want to talk to you.” he tried again. “I would really appreciate it.”

Dean snorted and still didn’t look at him. “I said no, leave.”

He could almost hear the kid swallowing in nervousness. “...mom would want-”

“You killed her, you don’t get to talk about her, think about her, or even consider her.” Dean snarled, whirling to face him. “You killed her-”

“I didn’t want to!” the kid suddenly shouted, despair clear in his voice. “I tried to hold onto her! I tried to keep her with me! I couldn’t and suddenly she was gone!”

Dean fell silent, just staring at the kid who was breathing heavily, tears in his eyes. “I don’t care.” he said simply, and it was the stone cold truth. “You killed my sister. I don’t give a damn what you wanted or what you tried. Your birth killed her.”

The kids eyes blinked faster, he rubbed at them, trying to fight back the tears as best as he could but despite his efforts, a few tears escaped. “She was my mother.” he whispered.

“No. She was my sister.” Dean told him. “She was forced to bear you. She was forced to give birth to you. She wasn’t your mother.”

The kid rubbed at his eyes once more, taking a deep breath and straightening up. “I heard her.” he whispered. “When she was carrying me. She spoke to me, said that you’d take...that she would trust you with me and that you’d-”

“That I’d what?” Dean snapped at him. “That’s I’d take care of you? That I’d watch over you? Cut the crusts off your sandwiches and tuck you into bed? No. If you were anyone else, my nephew? I’d be more than happy to. I’d love to raise you with Sam and watch you grow and be your uncle.” his hands were shaking and he curled them into fists to try to get them to stop.

“But you’re not my nephew. You are Lucifer's kids, not Sam’s. You are the son of the devil and that’s all you’ll ever be.” Dean told him. “You were born to be evil, you were born to be the son of the devil, you were born to kill my sister. And you’ve already accomplished all of that.”

“She told me that no matter how my coming into being happened, I am not him, I am not Lucifer.” the kid said, his voice wavering. “I...I’m me. I can choose who I want to be.”

“And who do you want to be?” Dean asked, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Who?”

“I want to be Sam’s son.” the kid told him. “I want to be your nephew. I want...I want my...a family.” he took a deep breath and wiped his hand over his face to wipe away the rest of the tears. “I know that...my birth did...a lot of bad things. But I didn’t want those bad things to happen.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want.” Dean told him. “It's what happens that counts, its what has and will happen.” he took a step forward towards the kid and felt a slight feeling of guilt when the kid automatically took a step back away from him. “It doesn’t mean jack squat what you want, what matters is actions.”

Dean pulled back away from him, watching the kid shake. “I look at you…and all I can see is him. All I know is that he raped her, he forced her to carry you, and finally...it killed her to birth you.”

He turned away, shaking his head. “Something I’ve always looked forward to is if Sam would have kids. I always promised that I’d be the best uncle to them. I’d be there for them, I’d help them, and I just be everything they needed me to be.”

“But you’re your father’s son. You can’t erase that and you can’t change that, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” Dean said, turning to leave the room.

“You’re wrong.” he heard the kid whisper. “You’re wrong. I’m not him. I’m not.”

Dean snorted, without turning around, he said, “Prove it.”. He didn’t bother to wait for an answer, there was none that the kid could give him. He left the room, not even sure where he was going to go in the bunker.

The kid slumped against the closest wall, his legs giving out and he slid down to the ground, laying there crumpled. Tears were falling down his face freely now and he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

After what felt like an eternity he raised his head, eyes closed, and let it lightly hit the wall behind him, breathing in deeply before letting it out. He repeated the motion a few times, trying to stop the tears. He took one more deep breath and held it in for a moment before he let it out.

He opened his eyes and felt a golden glow surrounded his vision, feeling something throbbing inside of him like a heartbeat.

“Mom.” he whispered, the word feeling slightly reverent on his tongue.

#supernatural #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #365 #210/365 #365 Days Of Writing #365 day challenge #dean winchester #Jack Kline #pregnant!fem!sam

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braveskyered · 5 years

Text

Knights (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

The guilt remains, and Arthur knows that even though he's married now, he cannot bring himself to go back to introduce his side of the family. So he hides them, instead. Just what did the Mystery Skulls do...?

Part 3: So Long Since I’ve Wrote About It

The next day came by, and Arthur woke up in his warm soft bed, happy that he didn't have a nightmare this time. He looked to his left, and didn't see Elaine beside him. He isn't surprised, considering the circumstances.

Arthur got off from bed and attached his arm, which received many upgrades compared to the model he had back when he left Tempo. Now, his left arm received a skin covering that left it nearly indistinguishable from a real arm unless one examined it up close, which helped make him feel less self-conscious about it. Ever since Arthur left his old life behind, he never liked being outside that much with his old prosthetic, fearing that someone would stare and eventually recognize him. He even went so far as to avoid wearing orange vests like he used to, instead opting for ones with darker colors such as brown or black. He dressed in a white shirt like he usually does with dark burgundy pants, before donning the vest in question. He stared at the mirror hanging on the wall and nodded to himself.

You are okay, Arthur. You will be fine. You live for them now.

He didn't want to go back. Not now, not ever. Not when he has a wife to be with...

“Arthur, could you tend to Percy real quick? I have my hands full with Gwen. He's already been fed and changed, so I think he just wants to be held by you.”

...and two babies to take care of. He went to the other side of the room and gently lifted the three-month-old baby boy from the crib. He saw Elaine's figure poke out from the bathroom door and take a box of wet wipes from the dresser nearby before going back in. With the tiny babe safe in the crook of his arms, Arthur left the bedroom, went to his work desk down the hall, and sat down on the chair. He then grabbed a small book that held the logo of a horse's head behind a shield with a sword from the stack and opened it, then slowly went through the pages of his diary entries, casually reading through some of them.

I don't know why, but Elaine gave me this diary for my birthday. She said that if I write down the things that trouble me, I can be less stressed about it or something like that? Honestly, if I wrote all my troubles down, I'd probably fill this book twice or more by now.

He flipped a page.

I've had this for a few months now. I guess it's helping. Writing out my thoughts and then processing them has helped me plan out on how to deal with this. It helped sort out the dreams, too.

He skipped past a few pages.

I'm worried they'll find me, I left without them knowing. I don't want to go back. Lewis hates me and I'll just be in the way. Vivi wouldn't give up until she found me. I don't want Mystery to track-

He skipped many pages to avoid that entry, suppressing the fear while trying to stop his hand from shaking.

He looked at an entry that held handwriting that wasn't his.

I love you, my star. ★

What is Elaine doing writing in this? I guess I shouldn't complain, though. It's really sweet of her. I guess she's serious about us being together? I mean, it's most likely that. I DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE WITH HER.

I got separated from Elaine while we were at the show. I could've sworn I saw Lew-

...before quickly skipping all the entries past it until he reached a blank page for his next entry, and started to write the words.

It's hard to believe that Gwen and Percy are over three months old now. Other parents weren't kidding when they say that kids grow up quickly. They still like hearing me hum the chorus of Lewis's song. I wonder if he'll forgive me for using it as a lullaby. I doubt it, but I can't recall any other song that will work for them besides the noise from the dryer. So far, the New Year is off to a good start.

Arthur set the pen down. He first used the diary to write down things that trouble him, but over time, he came to write down things that also made him happy, the events he had with the family he married into that made him slowly fall for his wife, even though there were some bumps and secrets to show between the two of them. Then came the children, and Arthur would write down multiple child care tips he learned from doctors or parents that were already experienced with handling them.

For Arthur, a part of him still has a hard time believing that he is a father to three-month-old twins. If someone were to tell his twenty-two year old self that he would be married with children at twenty-five, he wouldn't have believed it for even a second.

When Arthur first met Elaine, it wasn't love at first sight, but he did have an admiration for her spirit. Recalling the memory from three years ago somewhat fondly, Arthur held his son gently, holding out a finger from his left hand for the baby to wrap his fingers around.

“Holy...! Either the mechanic at that dealership is an idiot or they actually sabotaged the thing! What the hell?!”

Arthur stood back with Elaine beside him as the two watched another of the latter's relatives, an older woman with short black hair, examine the van's engine in more detail. It took less than a minute for Arthur to find the woman intimidating, and it wasn't even directed at him! He stepped back slightly to remain behind Elaine, the woman's niece.

“Look at this!” she gestured at the engine, “It's just as the kid says, there's so much crap in these pipes that it'll take hours to get it all out! I'm surprised the engine didn't overheat and break apart when our regular brought it in! Ugh! The idiots at that used dealership used the wrong kind of silicon sealant...!”

“Still, this is a problem, Aunt Morgan,” Elaine shook her head with her arms crossed with concern, “His son is pretty tall, and they've spent at least three months looking for a vehicle like this after their last one got totaled before then. I mean, we can clean it out, but wouldn't that be somewhere around the thousand dollar range if we did that? We don't have a spare engine to replace it either, and that would cost around the same even if we did. And last I checked, our regular doesn't have that kind of money.”

Morgan sighed irritably, “I'll think of something. I'll go talk to your mother and see if there's anything we can do about it. At the very least I'll have to see if I can convince our regular to file a claim or even a police report against the dealership for attempting to sell a tampered car. I don't trust them to clean it, but I do want them to pay for it since it's their goof up.”

Elaine glanced at Arthur for a moment, then back to her aunt, “Might be a good idea to keep Uncle Miles on speed dial if it somehow goes to court by them.”

“Oh, trust me, I intend to do that from the get go,” Morgan shook her head, wrote down some notes, and turned to Arthur, “As much as I disapprove of having strangers coming in here, I must thank you for finding this issue for me. I would've eventually found it, but you did save us some good time.”

Arthur gripped his left wrist, not trusting himself to say anything, so he nodded. Elaine turned to him in concern, glancing at his arms and then at his face.

“A man of few words, huh? You're an interesting one, I'll give you that,” Morgan let out a sound of her being a little annoyed, then started to leave, “I'm going to go submit the report in my office. Elaine, go talk to Mom and see how we can repay this guy for his help, she wanted to talk to him, anyway.”

“Yes, Aunt Morgan,” Elaine nodded as she and Arthur watched Morgan go to a door leading to another room, “Sorry about her, she can be a bit hot-headed at times. Mama Vivienne should still be in her office, so... why not come with me and we can talk? I'd like to get to know you more, it's not often we get a man who's great with machines around these parts, if you pardon the pun. Well, that, and there's something she wanted to ask you.”

Arthur glanced at Galahad's cage and his bag, considering it. Looking out at the sky, the sun is just about to set, and it will be night time within the hour. If he doesn't find a motel soon, it'll be too dark to safely walk outside.

Elaine seemed to have picked up on this somewhat, “If you need to take your hamster and bag with you, you're welcome to. Or we could leave them in the office for Aunt Morgan to watch over. She won't mind if it's only for a little while. If worse comes to worse, I can also ask my father to drive you home if you like.”

Arthur flinched slightly when Elaine said the last part, causing the latter to furrow her brow. He recognized that kind of reaction, since Vivi was always great at finding minor tells that say otherwise. If she's perceptive like Vivi is...

“I'll be fine,” Arthur shook his head, “You don't need to do anything.”

Elaine's look of concern did not leave as she slowly held out a hand and smiled, “Then at least come talk to Mama Vivienne? It's not good for a king's man to keep a lady knight's time without seeing her.”

Arthur stared at her incredulously. Did... did she just... make a pun out of their names?! It caught him off guard, and he couldn't help but laugh. He took her hand, the smile still on his face.

The motel can wait.

A gurgle interrupted his reminiscence, so he looked down and saw Percy looking up at him with his pale blue eyes, wrapping his small hand around Arthur's finger. Arthur carefully caressed the little boy's blond hair, musing at how much the child resembles him, while having his mother's pale blue eyes and a white lock of hair like she did. In contrast, his daughter Gwen resembled Elaine, having completely black hair with no white locks. Other than inheriting his gold-colored eyes, Gwen didn't resemble her father at all.

Regardless, Arthur loved them both equally and smiled ruefully. He knew that he didn't deserve having his newfound family. He remembered being so scared when he first learned that he was going to be a father, but after Gwen and Percy were born, most of that fear went away as love for his children bloomed.

...Uncle Lance would have loved them.

Arthur shook the thought out from his head. Although he missed Lance, he knew that as soon as Lance caught wind of his location, so would Vivi, Mystery, and... Lewis. Arthur did not want to expose his children to them. Not with them being so young. Or ever if he can help it.

The only form of communication Arthur gave Lance were one sided letters. He would write a letter, saying that he is fine, say that he is sorry for leaving, and request Lance to not look for him, even though he knew very well that his uncle – or anyone for that matter – would ignore that part. He would travel to another city during his occasional trips around the country to investigate or hunt ghosts with Elaine and her family, and drop off the letter with the address to Kingsmen Mechanics in a public mailbox with the appropriate postage and without a return address. Elaine always made Arthur stay at home on the more dangerous jobs, so every now and then, she would drop off the letters he wrote in his place.

Arthur will never get a reply because of this, but he felt it was for the best. He made sure to never send a letter while in Cantabile or in a neighboring city, nor send them from the same place twice in a row. Sometimes he would wait for as long as four weeks before sending another letter during one of the trips. He didn't bother sending letters to the Yukino family or the Peppers, there was no point, even though he's pretty sure they would wonder how he is. He wonders if they missed him at all.

He let out a sound through a wry smile. As if they would want him back. He knew that he is no longer wanted by them, not after what happened.

Arthur thought about telling Lance about his marriage or the birth of the twins, but decided against it. The less chance about anyone from Tempo knowing about them, the better. Granted, it wasn't because he thought they would be endangered by either Mystery or Lewis if the kitsune and wraith did know, far from it. However, he did fear that it could cause a fight that would result in death on either side, and even though he is hated by them now, he did still care about their well being.

Percy started to fuss a little, snapping Arthur out of the gloom. He didn't smell anything, and Percy's clothes felt dry. Elaine said said that he's recently fed, and she never fails to tend to him after to make sure he doesn't have gas. Maybe he's too warm or cold? Arthur got up from his desk to pick up one of the spare blankets he kept nearby and swaddled his son in it in the manner his mother-in-law taught him.

The baby boy quieted down, but not completely, so Arthur held his son to his chest and started to slowly hum the lullaby he used when soothing the twins to sleep. He never actually sang the lyrics he barely recalled in the haunted mansion that Lewis's singing ghosts used when he first encountered them, but the chorus the Deadbeats sang remained deeply ingrained into his mind, into his deeply wounded heart.

This time I might just disappear...

Whoa-o-o-oh

This time I might just dis-

Oh mo mo mo mo

Oh mo mo mo mo (Oh yeah)

Oh mo mo mo mo oh

This time I might just disappear...

Whoa-o-o-oh

This time I might just dis-

Oh mo mo mo mo

Oh mo mo mo mo (Oh yeah)

Oh mo mo mo mo oh

Percy stopped whimpering, much to Arthur's relief.

“I still find it amazing that you can get him and Gwen to calm down with that,” Arthur looked up and saw Elaine with their daughter Gwen in her arms, “Every time I try to sing them a lullaby, it's like a roulette. Sometimes they sleep, most of the time they just cry. Am I so bad,” she chuckled, her last words more being a statement of fact than a question.

“I'm... sure they'll take to it when they're older,” he grinned nervously.

Elaine rolled her eyes playfully, shaking her head, “What say we get the day going? Another day, another car to repair for you, and another monster hunt for me.”

Arthur nodded. While this isn't exactly like the times with the Mystery Skulls years ago, Arthur would be lying if he said that he preferred staying out of the paranormal entirely. He remembered being so afraid of everything around him, and he remembered Vivi and Lewis usually dismissing his fears, while convincing him that everything will be fine... until the cave that is.

For the Knights family, it's their duty to protect their home from any malicious beings that tend to emerge in Cantabile, so unlike the Mystery Skulls, they actually have active experience in dealing with things from monsters to ghosts and from dark creatures to demons. Because of this, during the times some of the family members (primarily Elaine and her aunt and cousin, Morgan and Eleanor respectively, who usually go off on their own) were required to travel and Arthur came along with Elaine to help with maintaining her equipment, Arthur actually felt... safe. The protective wards that Elaine kept in her van worked wonders, and he was never possessed by spirits or kidnapped by crazy cult members since then.

Well, he was kidnapped once when the two went on a date before Elaine was to start another job, but...

That also happened to be the day that he learned the secret the Knights keep to themselves.

Despite the inhuman screech, the knife didn't come down to his heart. He heard people scream in fear and in pain until it suddenly went silent.

Arthur slowly opened his eyes, and saw that he is still alive, still in his body, and still injured. The chains binding his arms, legs, and neck had broken off, allowing him to crawl out of the ritual circle with a bloody pentagram drawn on it alongside many other runes he didn't have time to identify. He tried to examine his surroundings, and through the dim candle light, saw the bodies of the cult members crumpled to the ground. Were they knocked unconscious or–

His heart skipped a beat when he felt something sticky on the ground when he crawled past a downed cult member.

– or dead? He then noticed that something is looming over him, the sound of something rattling and ringing, and went white with fear.

The giant skeleton spirit towered him from behind by several meters, being visible from the floor waist up. A purple light is shining in its left eye, a color that Arthur is all too familiar with. If Lewis truly became a demon, then...!

Was that thing summoned by the circle? Arthur looked down and saw that the monster was outside of it. Thankfully, it seemed to ignore him at first, growling at the cultists. One thing's for sure, Arthur didn't want to find out what exactly that monster is. He needs to find Elaine and get out of the cave while they still can. He wasn't ready to die yet, not when he still has sins to atone for.

Arthur had been dating Elaine for six months now, and had only just started having the confidence to take part in paranormal investigations again. The first few went okay, and when the two went to investigate this, they weren't expecting for there to be a secret cult trying to summon forth a demon made from the spirit of many dead soldiers that never received their last rites. If that giant skeleton monster happens to be the demon in question... Shaking off some of the pain, he struggled to stand up.

“Arthur...”

He looked behind him and saw the giant skeleton hold a hand out to him, looking desperate. It had to be a trick. There's no way this monster is friendly, and Arthur didn't want to risk staying to find out. If he doesn't run now...

“My knight, please!”

Notes: Arthur has become so fearful of the Mystery Skulls that he cannot return home. How does Elaine feel about this?

And the Knights are more than just a family of mechanics, it seems.

To pull off the lullaby yourself, you simply hum the chorus of Ghost, just slower than the usual beat. It's quite soothing, to be honest...?!

Knights Part 4

#msa knights #msa arthur #msa fanfic #arthur kingsmen #mystery skulls animated #fanfic

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