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oonajaeadira · 2 years

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Just wanted to tell you that I have been thinking about your PATS aaalllllll morning. 🥰🥵

I’m wondering how he would react if/when reader dates a new man? If her new boyfriend maybe doesn’t treat her as well as PATS thinks she should be treated? If after 3 dates she finally decides that her new man isn’t quite what she wants?

Oh, Claire. Welcome to my life. You're lucky you only think about him in the morning because this dude haunts me all the damn time.

Thank you for this ask, btw, because I wonder this too. It's uh... it's an interesting answer. Complicated. Lemme explain....

PATS's Reaction to a Less Than Desirable Match for You

FANDOM: Calls - Apple TV (PATS is a character from ep. 3. “Pedro Across the Street.” This is not RPF.)

Warnings: smut under the cut

He sits down at his dining table with a simple pasta dish in the early evening on Thursday, logging into the portal on his laptop to make a few notes on a departing client. He approves some payments, checks over a new recommendation from Shell—quickly denied, no underlying issues, too eager—when he notices there are two updates on your profile for review.

New STD test results, negative like usual.

Interesting. You weren’t due to upload one for another month yet.

But then he sees the other update notification.

Sexual partners since last appointment:

He lays down his fork. And stares at the number.

___

By the time you show up for your session he’s had his time to think, to assess, to walk his stomach back up to its rightful place.

That night he pulls sounds out of you that you didn’t even know you could make. He sets a new record for times he’s made your thighs tremble. When you walk out to your car, you’re practically lighting your own way.

___

Your profile doesn’t change that week. The number in that field stays.

It’s really none of his business.

___

On the following Thursday, he’s wrapped around you from behind, rolling your top down and off your arms, both of you shirtless, his skin burning against your own as he drags his nose along the ridge of your ear and asks, “Is there anything you want to take off the table tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

His hands hook over your hipbones, fingers sliding forward through your panties into a V. “Looks like you have a new partner. If that’s getting serious, we can pull back for a while.”

“No,” you breathe, “I don’t think so. He—“ you gasp as he digs in with his hands and slowly grinds himself against you from behind “—he's nice, but he doesn’t…do some things and—“ before hooking his thumbs in and running your panties down your legs, stopping to run a stubbled cheek over the back of a knee, making you shiver, “—and I just need…”

“Mmm,” he hums an acknowledgement then brings you to the table, laying you out and completely unhinging you, not wasting any time, hands going in and working out all the tension from the most obvious source first, making your whole body tense and then melt before casually digging into your muscles.

Once he’s finally working on your back and pulling unfettered moans out of you, he chuckles, praises, encourages you to keep being vocal. “Well, you’ve gotten pretty good at asking for what you want here. Do you do that with him?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Good.” Truly, fairly, if you’re doing that, using the tools with that guy you’ve sharpened here with him, then this might actually be worth it. Maybe he can get you to tell him about it. That could be fun. A very specific part of him is definitely starting to tell him this could be a lot of fun. “And what does he say when you ask for what you really want?”

“Uhh…” you breathe out. Take your time. Answer quietly. “Usually just, ‘I’m not interested in that.’ I mean, he's nice about it, but he's.... He's nice about it.”

It’s like a record scratch to his drive and he does his best to keep his hands moving over your body without interruption as the ire rises in his gut. With a practiced, steady voice he breathes, “Well. Let’s see if we can fill in some of those gaps, okay?”

You’ve hardly made yourself comfortable on the bed before he’s over you, crowding you, already hard against you, his voice in your ear. “Tell me what you want tonight. Anything you need, it’s yours. You deserve it.”

There's no hesitation here. You know you can ask him to put his mouth on you, and he does. To use his hands, and he does. You ask him to be rough, to bring you to the edge and back down, to take you with extreme gentleness, whatever you want he does. And he makes sure to do it well. You are the center of his world for one hour and by god, he makes you well aware.

While you sleep, does he do some digging? Take a look at social media? See if he can find anything out? Of course he does. Nothing that isn’t out there for the world to see. Maybe it's not the most professional move. But he still goes looking. This guy you’re seeing looks good on paper. Maybe he pulls down a good salary or plays bass in a really great band. Maybe he’s well-liked, lots of friends, supports good causes.

But he doesn’t fuck you right.

This is a problem.

For you. It’s a problem for you.

He scribbles on your form. “Ask for what you want. Demand what you need to feel good. Keep at it until you get what you deserve.”

___

Another Thursday, another bowl of pasta, he sits down to make assessments.

There’s another update on your file.

Sexual partners since last appointment:

He digs into his dinner. Best fucking pasta he’s ever had.

___

SERIES MASTERLIST

#pedro across the street #good things take time #calls fanfiction

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antarax · 3 years

Text

𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

It's late at night when Damian makes a stop by your house with the intention to confess his feelings for you.

Damian Wayne x Black!Reader, gender neutral.

Words: 2,105

AN: Happy Valentine’s to all the beautiful black people in the fandom!! I dedicate this one to all of us, who rarely get any works that include us or are actually vague enough to. Hope you enjoy it 💞

It was a quiet, cold night in Gotham. Neon city lights blurred into your room as the muffled sounds of the videogame on the old TV kept you company, the blue hue of the fluorescent lights washing over your bedroom even through half-pulled curtains.

The day had been a slow and uneventful one. For you, at least, after the hope of receiving someone's valentine had been completely blown off, the same energy manifesting itself in you as the night also dragged itself along.

You almost jumped out of your skin at the sound of your window opening, having had no expectations of anything more for the day –that, and the fact that it was well into the night already. You saw Damian standing outside with his hand on the window sill, a bag in the other, Robin uniform dirty and tattered as his cape fluttered violently with the breeze.

He seemed stuck in his place, as if he had been the one surprised, frowning like he hadn't expected you in your own room.

The slight semblance of a smile grew on your face, "Well, come in," you said, pausing the game.

It wasn't uncommon for Damian to stop by your building after a busy night, the moon shining beautifully in the sky and the clouds a beautiful swirl of the light as he came through your window expertly quiet. But, even then with the known comfortability and trust you two had managed to reach in your relationship, it also wasn't uncommon to feel like remnants of the younger, more insecure Damian still clung to him slightly.

Slightly as in heavily.

You watched him as he moved into the small space and set down the bag on the floor, taking off his gloves and mask with the rough delicacy you associated with him.

He stood as if he was tightly wound up, like perhaps he could breathe wrong, or whatever new, unspoken rule he'd created for himself plagued his mind now.

It was a little funny.

"I'm not going to eat you, you know?"

Damian rolled his eyes, "I'm aware."

"Doesn't look like it," You muttered, glancing down at the controller in your hands, "What's in the bag anyways?"

"I— Things."

You raised a brow.

"Food, sweets. Drinks."

"Really?"

"Yes," Damian replied, sitting down and sagging against the wall underneath the windowsill, chest rising and falling slowly as he exhaled deeply. Damian grabbed the bag again, putting it down next to you, "They're yours."

You set aside the controller and rummaged through the bag, the thoughts racing in your head. Damian knew you well and you him, your friendship spanning over a few years now. There had been a lot you'd trusted him with. Secrets, worries, embarrassing shit you'd done that still haunted you and Damian had been no different. He let you in on his bigger secret, how he carried the mantle of Robin every night. Some of his deepest remorses were ones that you had knowledge of; although never diving too deep in the murky waters of Damian’s life, you still valued the clear trust he had in you.

And along all these moments, every opportunity you've had to know each other, slowly and softly peeling aside the layers covering the people you were, a warm intimacy rooted itself in your growing friendship. A comfortable sort of intimacy.

Every once in a while you stopped by the manor on the quiet days where it was only Alfred and the animals. You helped Alfred in the kitchen whenever he was practicing for a new recipe or baking a dessert for the family later in the day. You spent hours with Damian in his room, where his cat Alfred would always curl up next to you on his bed as he worked on his art, walking around the manor or playing around with Titus and Batcow in the manor's backyard –which, really, was just an enormous open field that they were too humble to call so– and sometimes you'd even earn an invitation to dinner.

As for you, Damian tended to visit at night more so than day, but there were moments where he would show up on a sunny afternoon when everyone else wasn't home, slumping down on your couch for an hour or two before going back to his own things. Sometimes he'd drop by books he'd seen at the library, a small trinket he'd bought at the store and various other paraphernalia that, somehow, you always ended up loving.

Damian knew your taste well, and there was no doubt he'd spend countless amounts of time pondering over each of his gifts before they ever reached your hands. All things that while anyone else might have brushed over you appreciated immensely.

"You know," you began as you leaned back into the foot of your bed, ripping off pieces from a napkin you'd taken out of the bag, buying time. Hesitating, "I actually— sort of, was hoping for a valentine this year."

You gazed at Damian's eyes, your interest boring into them, digging as deep as you were allowed. They looked nervous, hilariously so. Almost like he'd been caught. But caught... doing what, exactly?

Perhaps caught in the middle of staring back at you as he'd tend to do; how he'd tend to do and assumed you didn't notice.

Or maybe caught when he would discreetly drop off something in your room or your locker after having seen it at the store or the cafeteria and knowing immediately you'd like it, always behind the guise of simple complacency. Caught, in his true intentions, what truly made him do all these otherwise insignificant things that were much too small even for somebody as detail-driven as Damian.

Olive-colored eyes still shifted uncomfortably in front of you as the sole giveaway of the true nervousness Damian was drowning in, refusing to show anything more of himself, even when it mattered.

Especially when it mattered. It was frustrating.

"You were?"

"Yeah," You shifted in your spot, "I was."

No one could ever, ever know something about Damian that he didn't share. It's just not something you could do. Not when it came to him. Anybody who knew anything at all about who Damian Wayne is, at his core in existence, knows it only because he's allowed them to.

And he'd allowed you to know this too, and yet now he was hesitating.

"You wished to have... a valentine. Anyone?"

"Anyone."

"You could have, easily, if you wanted it," Damian rolled his eyes.

"I could?" You smiled, and the twinkle in your eyes was nothing short of mischievous.

"Yes."

"Reeeally. How?"

Damian slouched against the wall, "Well, you'd simply have to ask," he said it as if it had been an obvious fact, "I'm sure anyone at the academy would've said yes."

Your smile widened as you raised your brows, "Oh?"

Damian frowned, "You are making fun of me."

"What do you mean? How."

Damian crossed his arms as you laughed.

"You think I'm making fun of you," you protested, "I'm not."

"TT."

"There's something you want to say, isn't there? Just spit it out, Damian."

Damian's eyes lingered all over the room. His hands had started to sweat a while ago and by then, his heart had sped up so much he was sure it was making some attempt at breaking through and out of his chest.

Originally, his plan had been to drop by and bring you a gift, but then he'd gotten nervous and internally malfunctioned, because he'd bought a double of everything so that you wouldn't assume it had been a gift and instead just him coming by to hang out like he always did.

He had planned to come by, tell you he'd... harbored a few unwanted feelings towards you and hoped you would have been tired enough that you wouldn't have realized it, but clearly, his plan had flipped over backwards and blown up in his face.

Damian took as deep a breath as possible with his collar putting him in a choke hold, as if trying to push out his words while simultaneously wanting to keep them buried the deepest he could.

"I— hm," He stared intently at the floor, for the first time in a while feeling like the small child who would trip over his own emotions again, but he was resolved to tell you, "I like you. I suppose."

It hadn't been surprising to Damian. More that it was hard to accept. He'd mulled over it for a long, long time. In fact, the reason he'd visited you tonight, made up his mind to tell you so, had been his ridiculously embarrassing performance.

Being surprised by petty thieves and thrown out of the loop by measly codes, none of which happen, ever, not to him at least. Damian was far above such childish mistakes, at least so he thought until he started taking a closer look at his own thoughts and realized your eyes had gone from brown to 'beautiful pools of honey', your skin a beautiful, shining shade of brown.

He was an artist, after all. He'd spent afternoons studying his environment, the shapes and colors, how everything fit in together; you were no stranger to his thoughts.

Which of course, you wouldn't know. If you had, you would have taken the jump much earlier. You would have never acted based off of assumption alone, but having the confirmation, well.

By now you had to contain your smile because surely, surely, your cheeks would be sore afterwards.

"Wow," you raised your brows in obvious mocking, "Really?"

Damian scrunched up his face in disgust, like he'd witnessed the most foul thing yet, crossing his arms tighter but refusing to meet your gaze as he turned to the wall.

"You know, Damian."

"Yes?"

"The valentine I was hoping for this year… was yours. You could've easily made a card and thrown some glitter over it and that would be the end of that."

"A card, with glitter?" Damian snapped his head at you, seeming almost bored as he spoke in a deadpan voice, "Is that how lowly you think of me?"

At this you did laugh, almost too loudly for one in the morning, that you had to push both your hands against your mouth.

Damian frowned, "Please do know that if I were to ever make something so miserable, it must be because I've been replaced. Which would not happen. Ever."

You stood, shuffling over to Damian and sitting down next to him.

He looked pretty underneath the moonlight coming through the window, the curls over his forehead looking soft and shiny.

Damian looked right into your eyes, for the first time that night not looking away, he was trapped now. Not truly, he could leave, but did he want to? Not at all.

Softly, Damian touched your hand, something perhaps akin to fear in his eyes as if he still expected rejection.

"Damian?"

"Hm?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

"Oh."

"Unless you don’t want me to."

"Please do. I mean—"

It was a shy and quick kiss, but so, so exciting as Damian's grip tightened around your hand and you leaned into him.

When you leaned away, it was with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Please do—"

Damian frowned again, clearly not amused. After a few seconds though, your laugh died out. Truth is, your stomach was churning. Because, while you were very much happy and excited, you were also incredibly nervous.

Both of you were stitching your thoughts back together, seconds of silence passing by. You were still holding Damian's hand.

He closed his eyes, frown deepening considerably and quickly before he spoke, vile spilling out of his mouth, "A card? With some glitter thrown over it?"

He looked downright furious, disgusted even.

"Seriously?"

"It's not that big of a deal," You chuckled, "Get over it."

"Hm."

Damian looked out the window, and you followed, the moon standing beautifully in the middle of the sky.

Damian sighed, "I have to go."

"Oh... okay."

He didn't move. Neither of you did.

Damian gave you a quick kiss again, looking absolutely scandalized when he pulled back. You stared at each other in complete disbelief before he stood up and started putting his gloves on again.

He pressed his hands onto the windowsill and took a deep breath.

Damian looked at you, tenderly, "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Damian." You smiled.

Damian gave you a small smile, "Hm."

You watched as he jumped off, grappling to the nearest building and laughed when you saw him standing still before disappearing into the night.

#DC #DC Comics #Batman #Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Wayne x Black!reader #escritos

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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years

Text

It’s Getting Hot in Here

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

Summary: Carlos is making dinner and T.K. is sure he can handle it. Carlos is sure he can't. Carlos is usually right. A teensy bit of a prequel for “Puzzles and Limes and Family Times.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Hey!” T.K. called as he walked in the front door and kicked off his shoes. “Wow! Oh my god, what smells so good?”

Carlos smiled from where he stood by the stove, stirring something in a skillet with a wooden spoon. “Dinner,” he said, pausing for a moment to give T.K. a kiss as he walked into the kitchen. “Camarones a la Diabla.”

T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Is that shrimp?”

“Shrimp with tomatoes, chiles, onions, and garlic.”

“Ooh sounds spicy.”

“It’s very spicy,” Carlos confirmed. “And delicious.”

“Kind of like someone else I know,” T.K. said, wrapping his arms around Carlos from behind and kissing his neck. Then he frowned. “Why do you have two skillets going?”

“I told you it’s spicy,” Carlos said. “I made yours with a little less heat.”

“Excuse me?” T.K. said, withdrawing his arms and stepping back. “You think I can’t handle some heat?”

“Oh,” Carlos chuckled. “I know you can’t.”

“Um, hello?” T.K. said, hands spread wide with incredulity. “I’m a born and bred New Yorker. My palate is very diverse.”

“Yeah, I know,” Carlos said. “But this is an entirely different level of hot. Trust me.”

T.K. leaned up against the counter mock hurt on his face. “I cannot believe you think I am too weak to eat your spicy shrimp.”

“Not weak,” Carlos assured him. “Just…not used to it. We need to build up your tolerance slowly.”

“Build up my…Carlos,” T.K. said, flashing him a charmingly sexy smile. “Come on. I think I know whether or not I can handle a little spice.”

“And I think you’re just a little bit too cocky for your own good,” Carlos said, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose and then dodging past him to open the refrigerator.

T.K. spluttered in offense as Carlos began to fix a salad. “Cocky? I am not cocky. I am…appropriately confident.”

“No I’m pretty sure you’re cocky,” Carlos said with a grin.

“What on earth makes you say that?” T.K. said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“T.K. you’re a firefighter—“

“Former firefighter!”

Carlos nodded in concession. “Former firefighter. You used to run into burning buildings. You have to be a little cocky to do that.”

“Okay, yes, but never once did that fail me. I survived unscathed,” he caught the look Carlos sent his way and amended his statement, “mostly unscathed for my entire firefighting career. And being shot barely counts because that wasn’t a fire call anyway. My dad is a firefighter, I was a firefighter, Carlos I was literally born to handle heat!”

Carlos put down the tongs he was using to toss the salad and took a step toward T.K. “You really think you can handle it?” His voice was low, eyes going heavy and dark.

“I don’t think, I know I can,” T.K. said, still annoyed.

Carlos stepped even closer, so the his hips bumped up against T.K.’s, effectively pinning him against the counter as he bent his head to speak quietly into his boyfriend’s ear. “You think you can handle my heat?”

T.K. grinned, pleased by the new direction of the conversation. “I think I handled it pretty well last night.”

Carlos bit his lip and nuzzled T.K.’s neck before abruptly pulling back. “You can’t handle this kind of heat.”

“Carlos!”

Their bickering persisted until dinner was on the table, Carlos still insisting on dishing them up from separate skillets as T.K. continued his protests.

“Just eat your gringo shrimp and be happy I made it for you,” Carlos said as he set their bowls on the table. “Oh shit, I forgot the salad.”

When he turned back he found T.K. leaning across the table, mouth already full of one bite, his fork digging into Carlos’ bowl of shrimp and rice to get a second. “See?” T.K. said, after he swallowed. “I told you I could handle it. Babe this is amazing!”

He took a second bite and grinned. Carlos sighed, set down the salad bowl, and went for the fridge.

“What are you doing?” T.K. asked as he snagged yet another shrimp.

“Pouring you a glass of milk for about ten seconds from now when you realize that I’m always right and you should have listened to me.”

“You just can’t admit that you were…” T.K. trailed off and gave a little cough.

Carlos crossed his arms and waited. “Wow, okay, yeah that is actually a little,” T.K. coughed again, “a little spicy.”

“Oh really?” Carlos asked with a roll of his eyes. “A little spicier than you’re used to?”

“I mean it’s fine.” T.K.’s face was starting to turn red. “I just…in a minute I’ll—“

He choked, hands slamming into the table as the full effect of the chiles really took hold. “Oh my god! Holy shit!” he gasped.

“I told you,” Carlos said him with a tone of long suffering as he uncapped the milk and poured it into a glass.

T.K. gagged, one hand going to his chest as the burning continued all the way down his esophagus and into his stomach. Carlos silently walked over and handed him the milk which he immediately began to chug, eyes bulging.

“Hey, hey, slowly,” Carlos said, grabbing his wrist. “You’re going to choke.”

T.K. continued to cough and splutter as he drained the glass. Carlos had the good grace not to say anything as his boyfriend suffered, instead rubbing his back and wincing in sympathy every time his breath hitched or he gagged.

It took ten minutes before T.K. regained enough control of himself to speak. “I think I burned all my tastebuds off,” he said hoarsely.

“You probably did,” Carlos said, patting his shoulder. “But I think you’ll live.”

T.K. swallowed hard one hand rubbing at his chest. “There is no way you can eat that.”

Carlos walked around to the other side of the table, making direct eye contact with T.K. as he dug his fork into his bowl and took a bite, chewing slowly and swallowing with no problem. He held up his hands and raised his eyebrows.

“You’re cheating,” T.K. accused, eyes still watering.

Carlos snorted as he sat down and took another bite. “Seriously? Face it my love, you’re just not on my level yet.”

“That is like hell in a bowl,” T.K. said. “You cannot possibly enjoy that.”

“It’s how my abuela always made it,” Carlos said. “Been eating it like this my whole life.”

“Well maybe your tastebuds are burned off and that’s why you can’t tell how hot it is,” T.K. grumbled, letting out another small burp.

Carlos gave him a tolerating look. “Sure. That’s probably it. Are you going to eat your dinner?”

“I can’t taste anything anymore,” T.K. complained but he took a bite anyway.

“Well maybe next time you’ll listen to me and we can enjoy our meal without having to almost take you to the emergency room,” Carlos said mildly.

T.K. glowered at him.

They finished dinner without further incident other than the occasional ominous rumble from T.K.’s stomach. They cleaned up quickly and then Carlos grabbed his book and went to sit on the couch in his usual spot. T.K. joined him, but rather than turning on the TV and beginning the typical nighttime routine he pulled the book from Carlos’ hands and pushed him down into the couch. “What are we doing?” Carlos asked, eyes full of amusement.

“I’m sorry that I spoiled dinner,” T.K. said, his face hovering inches from Carlos’.

“You didn’t spoil dinner.”

“Oh, so you don’t want me to make it up to you then?”

Carlos laughed. “How exactly are you planning to do that?”

T.K. grinned. “You had your chance to be spicy, now it’s my turn.” He paused for a second. “That sounded sexier in my head.”

“It was pretty terrible,” Carlos agreed with a smile. “But I like where this is going.”

“You aren’t worried it’s going to be too hot for you?” T.K. teased, leaning even closer.

“T.K.,” Carlos laughed.

“You might like to get spicy in the kitchen, but I prefer my spice in the bedroom.” T.K. nipped at Carlos’ earlobe as his boyfriend continued to laugh. “I hope you’re ready. Things are about to get muy caliente in this house.”

“Wow, that is…beyond terrible,” Carlos said, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

T.K. undid one of the buttons on Carlos’ shirt, grinning like a fool. “Let me show you just how spicy I can really be.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Carlos said, reaching up and pulling T.K. in for a deep kiss.

This was the type of heat they both could handle.

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #Carlos Reyes #T.K. Strand #Fluff and nonsense #It's ridiculous #It's Getting Hot in Here #Tarlos Fic

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silence-burns · 3 years

Text

Please Hate Me //part 51

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut

The TV buzzed quietly in the living room, repeating the same string of information all the news stations had been reporting since yesterday. It was amusing to see how many different words could be used to state the same thing without anyone noticing, especially if the only clip actually capturing the event that'd been on everyone's tongues for the past 24 hours lasted for less than 10 seconds and had been recorded on painfully cheap equipment.

Still, a suspicious and still unexplained cloud of what appeared to be dust, rising at the edge of the observable surface of the Moon, kept people plastered to the screens.

Peter kept an eye on the report just in case any actual news dropped, but so far, despite his ever growing curiosity, the world's experts were just as clueless as they had been yesterday, especially since investigating the site in person was not really an option.

A shiver ran down the boy's arms, urging him to keep moving. Even though the windows were wide open, the sour stench still hung in the air of his apartment. Fanning the air with an incredibly colorful and tacky fan aunt May had bought last summer, Peter had hoped to make the apartment a breathable place again before she was back.

"Don't look so smug," Peter gave Barbara the side eye. "It's your fault."

From the heights of the chandelier, the undead owl blinked slowly with all the smugness only an untouchable criminal was capable of mustering. In fact, the gagging odor only seemed to worsen.

Peter coughed, shuffling in even closer to the open window. They say that experience is the toughest, but also the best teacher, and Peter had no reason to disagree.

"...no wonder they didn't let you eat inside."

Peter checked the news again. He was dying to drown Loki and you under all the questions about what precisely had happened on the Moon. The boy had no doubts that your little visit there was directly connected to the incident, but he had no way of learning the truth just yet. The only two people knowing the facts were currently incapacitated and trying their best not to die on Peter's bed. Or at the very least not to let go of all the alcohol consumed.

Despite his best efforts, Peter was unable to wake them up. When he had offered to hide them from Thor for reasons they weren't the most open about, Peter had no idea it would be for such an extended period of time. Peter had only suggested his house because he knew aunt May was supposed to work till afternoon, but these few hours of peace and quiet were coming to a rather swift end with each moment Peter was incapable of waking and then moving out the two drunkards clinging onto his bed for dear life.

Peter had no idea how to explain them to aunt May. Or the undead owl poisoning the air from the heights of the chandelier.

With the door to his room firmly shut, Peter hoped his secret stash of people that definitely shouldn't be there would stay secret. He had a big chance of succeeding after all. If only he managed to fan out the stink in time and—

The keys rattled in the lock with the familiar jingle of all the little gadgets aunt May loved to keep attached despite their utter uselessness.

Peter looked at Barbara. Barbara looked at Peter. The boy could've sworn the owl recognized the thoughts rushing through his head at that moment, and decided to be even meaner than usual. Before Peter managed to put together a story explaining how an undead and rather unhygienic owl came into his possession, the owl took a swift exit through the open window and disappeared, leaving only the stench behind.

"Oh, come on…"

Increasing the speed of his fanning, Peter hoped it would be enough. The sounds coming from the door shattered his hope.

Aunt May coughed as she walked in, dropping the grocery bags on the table. "Peter, sweetheart, please tell me no one died in here while I was gone."

She took the fan from his hands and leaned out of the window, taking large gulps of the fresh air.

Outside, there was no sign of a stinky undead owl anywhere in sight. Not even one filthy feather to prove how close to guessing the truth aunt May was. Peter was unsure whether it was for better or for worse, but it surely left him with all the questions remaining to be answered.

"No, of course not!" he laughed the fakest laugh of his life. "It's not like any animals could get in and just...decompose, right?"

"Well, it would certainly be hard given what floor we live on, but you know New York, the rats can just get anywhere."

Peter watched in growing terror as his aunt looked around, set firmly on finding the source of the smell. The living room was a closed space, with only so many pieces of furniture to look under before the idea of marching into the boy's room popped into her head.

There was little to no doubt his own head would be torn from his neck if she beheld the sight of it.

"That's not rats, really! It's just… well, Ned made me swear not to tell a thing, but you know his stomach and I had told him the burrito we had after school didn't look very well, but he was insistent, so…"

Peter shrugged, trying his best not to show how fast his heart was drumming in his chest. He made a mental note to apologize to Ned later, or at least buy him a burrito next time they met. Not mentioning the reason for it would probably be the wisest, though.

Aunt May sighed with what could only be read as parental concern. As Peter's closest friend, Ned was a frequent guest to the apartment and many meals have gone by with May admiring his appetite. She knew well the capabilities of Ned's stomach and the inhuman amount of food it could make disappear.

"Poor thing, I really hope he recovers soon. Is he still there?" May whispered, nodding towards the bathroom.

"No, he just...left."

May raised her eyebrows. "In that state?"

"I mean, he said he was fine now and could make it home."

"You should call him," she gave up on her search and started unpacking the groceries she got on her way home. "I really hope he made it in one piece."

"That's a great idea, I'll do it right away."

Before May managed to say another thing, the boy was already gone, the door to his room firmly shut. She smiled to herself. Ned was a good boy and she was glad Peter still had a friend in him for so many years. If only his choices in food weren't a health hazard...

Peter locked the door behind him, pushing his back to it. He took a deep, if rather shaky breath.

"I'm glad you're finally awake, but what are you guys doing?"

You turned your head away from the open window, banging it into Loki's. He winced, but continued to assess the 10-story drop to the ground outside the building.

"We're sneaking out," you slurred. "The suits are coming."

"What su-"

Even through his closed door, Peter heard the doorbell ring. He froze. "Who's that?"

"I don't remember, but they want something from us."

Peter looked at the door. Then back to you. Loki was already missing.

The fire escape was an old and wiry thing, stubbornly fighting against the rust and corrosion throughout the years. It stood mostly unbroken, which was greatly appreciated by the two people currently about to use it. But the passage of time left its mark that could be well heard by all the residents of the building. The high-pitched, irritating sound of old metal creaking under every step was a steep price to pay for a way out.

Peter took a deep breath in his now-empty room. It did little to steady him. Behind the door, he could hear a conversation between aunt May and a voice he almost recognized. Maybe if he snuck out after them…

"Peter, come here for a moment!" May called him with a smile to her voice.

It couldn't be that bad if she was smiling, right?

Reluctantly, Peter returned to the living room, bracing himself to meet whoever the suits were.

"Hello, Peter," Agent Coulson nodded politely in his direction.

SHIELD was in his house and Peter had little to no doubt the agent wasn't there to try his aunt's home baked cookies.

"I'm sorry for the rush, Peter, but have you perhaps seen…," the agent looked at Peter's aunt, "your new coworkers? I can't contact them lately. We were working on a new project."

Peter watched his aunt link his apparent 'internship' at Stark Industries and Coulson's words. Even though she was growing giddy and engaged the agent in some small talk about the job, Peter knew the agent was still waiting for the answer.

There was only one way of getting out of this mess.

Playing dumb had always been his savior.

Peter was the image of innocence as he asked, "Who?"

But Coulson's features hardened almost imperceptibly. In one short moment, Peter knew he messed up.

Well, maybe playing dumb didn't work on certain people.

#please hate me #loki x reader #loki x you #loki series #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki #loki laufeyson #loki mcu #loki marvel #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson imagine

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drabsyo · 3 years

Note

What were some of your favorite fleurmione week fics? Any recommendations? (I didn't realize it was a thing until today and there are over forty stories.)

More Fleurmione fic recs here: Pt1 | Pt2 ✨💖💙📚

Dance Avec la Vie by Sosh_022 (Day 2: Dancing)

(Listen. Listen. Listen. This is on a whole other level. It gives you an intimate look to a ballerina's life except—and are you ready? It's through the eyes of Hermione Granger, herself. But listen, that isn't even the best part. The best part? She'll fall in love with Fleur Delacour, who is also a badass ballerina like her. If you can't already tell, I'm swooning.)

Summary: In 2016, New York City Ballet performed a total of 58 ballets. Not one was choreographed by a woman. | "Classical ballet is all about women and the female form, but it is controlled by men." | "As a dancer you see a lot of male duets but you don't see female duets very often. We can't lift each other above our heads but maybe we can partner each other a little bit more." | Or, two ballerinas dance together and spark a revolution.

Lights, Camera, Action! (Are We Canon Yet?) by Sosh_022 (Day 1: A Crush is Revealed)

(Cuteness overload. Couldn't stop grinning the entire time. And Fleur calling Hermione 'wifey'—hello??? Why isn't anyone talking about this???)

Summary: Fleur guest stars on a TV show that Hermione stars in.

Just Gals Being Pals by DisasterLesbean (Day 6: Babies)

(A well and truly delightful read. Fleur and Hermione just constantly skirting around each other, everyone knows we can never get enough of that. Bonus points if the brightest witch of her age is a little bit oblivious to that fact herself...)

Summary: “If you’ll sign here for guardianship.” The wizard gestures to a line. Fleur’s hand shakes as she lifts her wand to the line. “You as well, madam.” Hermione turns her empty gaze towards him. | “Me?” Hermione exclaims. | “They specifically listed the both of you as Josephine’s guardians." | The baby in question is chewing on the wizard’s hair.

I Only Have Eyes For You by lipeviez (Day 2: Dancing)

(Don't touch me. Don't look at me. Don't even breathe in my direction. This one HURTS. I love it.)

Summary: A dance introduces Hermione to possibilities she didn’t know existed, possibilities she didn’t know she wanted, but there’s nothing to be done when the source of those possibilities has just married someone else. | A prequel to You’ll Lose A Good Thing.

Mutually Assured Attraction by lipeviez (Day 1: A Crush is Revealed)

(Because you'll need something fluffy to combat the pain from the one before this. And nothing says fluff than teaching the person you want to date how to ride a motorcycle! Ya know... if Hermione manages to in the first place.)

Summary: Hermione Granger gets roped into giving motorcycle lessons to Fleur Delacour, and wants to ask her out, but very well may die before she gets to.

As You Wish by Kamaro0917 (Covers most prompts)

(Fleurmione As You Wish AU. Need I say more? This one is also a multi-chapter, completed story! Yay!)

Summary: There was a time when she dreamed of finding true love, being swept off her feet, and riding off into the sunset toward her happily ever after. She grew out of that mindset long ago. The idea of marrying for love was just a dream for fools to cling to, and Fleur Delacour was no fool. | Everything changed when the new farmhand showed up.

Neighbors by lipeviez (Day 3: Jealousy)

(The tension in this one is through the roof. No, not because they're neighbors—or wait, actually, you know what? Never mind. That's definitely it. Rated E!)

Summary: Hermione’s flat has windows that face the windows of a flat in the building next door. This wouldn’t be a problem except for the fact that Hermione can’t stop watching her neighbor. Oh, and her neighbor might just like her watching.

What We Are: Fleurmione Week Sneak Peeks by cationix, waxwing_Saint (Covers all prompts)

(THIS one is incredible. I smell a Fleurmione classic incoming. This is the BIG ONE.)

Summary: For Fleurmione Week March 2021, we're posting teasers from our Big Damn Project: | The Triwizard Tournament brought them together with a mysterious pull of attraction. Hermione wants answers but Fleur is willing to fight fate until it kills her. With a war going on--Fleur on the front lines and Hermione hunting for fragments of Voldemort’s soul--will they accept their destiny, or are they doomed to become a cautionary tale?

Once Upon a Time in New York City by drabbles (Day 6: Babies)

(Okay this one is just my measly attempt at writing a fanfiction for this fandom lmao because for some reason, Robert from the film reminds me so much of Hermione! Also, Disney Princess Fleur breathing whimsy into Hermione's colorless city life.)

Summary: When Hermione Granger and her six year old daughter moved to New York, she already had both their lives planned out. She would finally settle down with someone, give Rose the proper family life she deserved, and win as many cases as her law firm would allow. However, things take a whimsical turn when a strange Frenchwoman crashes into their lives, making Hermione question the true meaning of happiness and eventually, love. Or... the Fleurmione Enchanted AU.

I haven't been able to read everyone's contributions yet, but please I hope you take the time to read everyone's stories. Everyone's worked so hard during Fleurmione week, we're all just so lucky to have many talented writers for our rare pair 💖📚💙

And as always, I hope you enjoy reading! Please feel free to leave more fic recs on my ask box in case I missed any of your favorites, which I probably have! 🥺🥺💖

#fleurmione #fleur delacour #hermione granger #hermione x fleur #fleurmione fic rec #hp wlw #hp fanfic #fleurmione week #fleurmione week 2021 #drabstuff #I NEED TO GET MORE READING DONE JSLFSLFHG #sending my love to the fanfic writers!!!!#thank you thank you thank you sooo much to every single one who contributed #and no the colors of the titles don't mean anything i just like to add color to everything #i just think it's neat

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ikleesfiction · 3 years

Text

I'm a fucking alcoholic (with a sweet tooth)

Fandom : Chicago PD TV Word count : 1,623 words Pairing : Jay Halstead x reader Author's note : This is the third one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary. Warning : It's fluff. I hope it doesn't end up too cringy?

Disclaimer

◢◤

It is a cold Friday in Chicago. You would say it is super cold since you worked in the warm weather of Los Angeles last week. Jay is coming over to your place after work. Now both of you are snuggling on the couch, watching movies on TV.

"I cannot watch this part," You hide your face in Jay's chest, preparing for the frightening scene. The darkness in the room increases the tension.

"What are you talking about? This is not even a horror movie," Jay looks down at you, bemused.

"Say you! Watching Tom Cruise blowing up a Gallardo distressed me. My soul is crying. It is a nightmare!"

You move out from Jay's embrace to point out the screen where Maggie Q said it is such a nice car. "Yes, it is! Don't do it, Zhen," yell you at the TV.

However, The Lamborghini on screen still went kaboom and was engulfed in fire. "Oh, no!" You put your hand on your heart, feeling devastated.

Jay grins at your silliness, "I'm sorry for your loss," He rubs your back, offering his condolences. However, his smile turns flirty. "If there's anything I can do to ease your pain..."

You play along with his idea. "Hmm, is that so?" Your hands wrap around Jay, pulling him closer. Your nose is tracing his neck, up to his jaw, his cheek. Your lips softly grace his skin, make their way closer to his. Jay wasted no time to kiss you and keep kissing you.

You don't know how long it goes, and you don't care to know. Until Jay moves back abruptly, tilting his head away from you, "Your pho..."

Your lips cut his words as you get on his lap. Jay puts his hands on your waist to stop you, halfheartedly, "Babe, your phone is ringing,"

Your hands curl behind his neck. "Let it ring." You whisper to his ear. Jay shudders when he feels your breath on his neck. Your mouth soon follows to make a mark on the same point. Jay tries to hold himself back from reciprocating the gesture.

Unlike Jay and his work, you got no obligation to pick up your phone. No life or death depends on you tonight. But the phone keeps shrieking. It started to annoy you because Jay stops participating in this make-out session.

"Might be important," This is one of the rare times you want to curse Jay's occupation.

"I assure you it won't be," You try to get Jay back in the game.

"Well, at least you can tell them to call you back later," Jay lands a soft kiss on your forehead. With a loud sigh, you move away from Jay's lap to pick up your phone.

Seeing the caller ID frustrates you even further. "You are interrupting our date night," is the first thing you say to your best friend, Alex, when you receive the call and put it on speaker.

"Hi, Jay!" Alex chirps his greeting, ignoring your complaint.

Jay greets back with a chuckle, "Hey, man. Nice to hear from you," He takes the remote to pause the movie, where Tom Cruise is gunning a Mercedes CLK down the road.

"No, it's not." You grumble under your breath. "What's up? Did you just come up with a song idea that would make Bruno Mars wished he wrote it?"

As a fellow songwriter/producer, you understand that song inspiration could come anytime. But it would still piss you off if Alex insists on working for it tonight.

"Not yet. But we do have a potential project for you,"

"Couldn't it wait until next week?" You moan your refusal. "Jay and I got plans for the weekend,"

"Of course. As long as you promise to pick up your phone when Angelique calls. I know you have been dodging her." Alex chides you.

Huffing your aversion, you lay your head on Jay's lap. In reflex, he plays with your hair. "Who's Angelique? A new talent?" Jay never heard that name before. He is pretty sure that he knows everybody at Pyramid, Alex's record label in Amsterdam where you work for.

Alex starts to explain, "She is a singer. Been around for a while,"

"Country singer, turned bubblegum pop singer, and now I guess she wants to try dance music as well?" You elaborate to Jay and asking Alex at the same time. You have written and produced songs from various genres, but your notable works so far are mostly EDM.

"Maybe," Alex answers casually.

"Angelique..." Jay ponders for a moment before lighting up, "Oh! Is she the one whose songs you keep skipping whenever they pop up, babe?"

Your best friend lets out a big laugh from the other side of the phone. "Angelique wants Y/N to produce her next album, but all of a sudden Y/N here cannot find the receive button on her phone," Alex emphasizes his sarcasm.

"I took yours, didn't I?"

However, Alex begins his interrogation. "Why are you avoiding her calls anyway?"

"I don't wanna work with her," You know you sound petulant.

"Come on, Y/N, it would be great! Angelique's third album sold triple more than her second. Her last single went neck to neck with Taylor Swift's song. Now, she is gonna let you work on her fourth album! Other producers would kill for this opportunity," Alex tries to reason.

Jay whistles, being impressed by the story.

"Well, my boyfriend here is a cop. I don't wanna get involved in any criminal activity," You are intentionally being obtuse. "If it were so great, why don't you do it? You're the one who still works on stage."

"You know people talked about how you could be the next Max Martin, right? Made sense that she asked for you," Alex states. "Angelique doesn't need another artist to perform with her. She needs someone who writes and produces good stuff."

"Every producer could be the next Max Martin if they work hard," You shrug the notion.

Jay looks confused with all these new names. "And Max Martin is...?"

"We are never ever ever getting back together?" Alex starts singing a couple bars to show Jay some examples of Max Martin's works.

"Uh..." Jay doesn't show any recognition.

"ou make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream?" Alex sings another song. Your best friend is nothing but persistent.

"Uhm.." And yet, Jay is still clueless.

"Jay is not keeping up with pop music for the last decade, Lex," You joke to your best friend. "Try some songs from the Backstreet Boys,"

"Hey!" Jay protests. "I know your songs," He smirks at you in full smug. "Especially the ones that were written about me."

You laugh at his adorable and sexy smirk. Sitting up from Jay's lap, you kiss the smug out of him.

"Guys, I'm still here." The flat tone of Alex on the phone stops Jay from taking the kiss further.

You peck a corner of Jay's lips one more time. "Your own fault. Who told you to call during our date night anyway?"

"Since I'm not there to poke and pinch you, I hope Jay could help me convince you to take this project." Your best friend is shameless.

"Is Angelique not a good person or something?" Jay tries to understand the situation. He knows you are a hard worker. It is rare for you to run off from a big project like this. "She ought to be a good singer, right? With all of that achievements,"

You cross your arms and glare at your boyfriend, "It is a prerogative to hate your best friend's exes, no?"

Jay frowns, "Wait, Angelique is Alex's ex?"

"Oh, come on!" groans Alex. "It was years ago!"

"You know how the saying goes. Quote-unquote, "You are my friend. She is your ex. You get to forgive and move on. I get to hold a grudge until I die”

"That was kinda harsh," Jay comments.

"Your best friend still hates me until now, Jay." You roll your eyes at your boyfriend.

"Mouse doesn't hate you. I even haven't got a chance to tell him about you since he's been deployed," Jay raises his eyebrows.

"She meant your work partner," Alex answers Jay for you.

Jay frowns deeper, "Hailey doesn't hate you."

"Wanna bet on that?" You challenge him.

Alex prevents the couple from bickering further, "Guys, listen! Angelique and I broke up amicably. There were no hard feelings between us now,"

"Excuse you!" You exclaim. "I still remember those dark days. You cried over so many Tequila bottles. And those boxes of chocolate!! Why did we have to consume that much chocolate over a breakup?? My waistline did not come back to its original measurement for three months!!"

Jay lets out an amused snort.

"Oh, you don't get to talk, man!" Alex hits the couple back. "Your temporary breakup also forced me to replenish my Jenever stocks! I got bakeries phone numbers on speed dial for chocolate cake emergencies!"

Jay puts his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. You guys continue to discuss business," He stands up from the couch. "I'm gonna go warm up some pie," Jay gestures to the kitchen area. "Alex, it's nice to catch up with you. Hope the next time we talk, it would be more social and less about business,"

"And you, love, try to listen to what Alex offers first before you cut him off," Jay bends down to kiss your lips teasingly. "Please don't pull out any bottles with more than 40% alcohol content. I need you sober for our plans tonight." He winks at you before moving to the kitchen, leaving you to deal with your pushy best friend alone.

+x Taglist +x

@lorenakaspersen @life-treatments @itsdesiree86

Foot Note: - Tom Cruise and Maggie Q blew up a Lamborghini Gallardo in Mission: Impossible III (2006). All of the MI movies are classics in my household. - Max Martin is a Swedish record producer, songwriter. You might not know his name, but I'm sure you know his songs. In reference to this fic, he co-wrote and co-produced Taylor Swift's "We are never ever ever getting back together", co-wrote Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream", co-wrote and co-produced some of Backstreet Boys' biggest hits. - "You are my friend. She is your ex. You get to forgive and move on. I get to hold a grudge until I die" line is taken from Henrietta Wilson on 9-1-1 TV Series S02E04 "Stuck". I thought it was hilarious. The line became the reason for this particular fic's existence.

I'm sorry for the long note. Thank you for reading this fic and the note. You are so welcome to reply, ask or tag me. We can talk about music, series or Jesse Lee Soffer's abs. :p

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead fic #one Chicago fic #chicago pd fic #chicago pd tv #jay halstead #reader #original character #fanfiction #one shot #original work #wyftiiffy

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reachgirl · 3 years

Text

So..

Maddie had to basically raise and care for her brother when she was pretty young (from what we can gather), she was in an abusive relationship where her husband cut her off from family and friends, then when she finally managed to leave him he came back to stalk and kidnap her and stab her boyfriend, and she had to kill him. Then she was held hostage at the call center.

Buck had a difficult childhood (I think we’re safe to assume this much), then his sister left and it was obviously a big deal to him - and when she found him again she was almost killed by her abusive ex, he almost drowned and almost lost his friend’s son in a tsunami, had his leg crushed by a fire truck, had a pulmonary embolism, lost his job and his friends, his girlfriend left him because she couldn’t deal with the job, his other ex girlfriend used him as an emotional support crutch and then abandoned him without even giving him a clean break, his psychologist used her position of trust so she could sleep with him. Oh and his best friend / guy he’s clearly in love with was almost buried alive and.. it was never addressed again.

Athena’s fiancé was killed, she was almost killed by a serial killer, and her daughter almost killed herself, then she was kidnapped and almost killed again.

Bobby’s wife and children died tragically in a fire that he blames himself for.

Chim had an abusive dad, a mom who died when he was a teenager, he was bullied, his best friend sacrificed himself on a call and Chim was there to see it all, then he had a traumatic brain injury after a near-fatal car accident and his girlfriend left him right after, oh and he was catfished and stabbed by his girlfriend’s abusive ex-husband who then kidnapped her, and then she was kidnapped again at her place of work!

Eddie’s helicopter was shot down and his friend died, his son had to have multiple operations while he was away, his parents tried to take his son away from him, then his wife left him, twice, and then died in his arms. Then he was almost buried alive.

Hen was bullied, her relationship with her ex put her child’s safety in jeopardy, and she inadvertently caused a young girl’s death, oh and she almost died in the earthquake.

And most of the issues I listed don’t even include the stuff that happens to them on a day-to-day basis. Or any of the stuff that happened to Michael, Josh, Karen, Chris, May or Harry.

Now obviously, you could do a show that actually dives into the trauma of emergency responders, but that would be a very different tone. There’s always the question of how realistic can these shows really be in 45 minutes and still give us these crazy rescue scenarios (Tsunami?? Mudslide? Plane Crash? Check) AND emotional development each episode. Realistically, the 118 wouldn’t be the ones - or at least not the only ones - called in to save people on a failed water landing / plane crash in the ocean. Their area of operation wouldn’t span from the coastline doing abseiling rescues to trying to run down a hot air balloon to bank robberies to train crashes in the middle of nowhere.

So we also can’t expect them to be completely faithful to actual trauma psychology, because that would most probably make for boring TV, but even if it didn’t, it just COULDN’T be the show we love so much. They do give it some space, like showing Christopher dealing with nightmares, acknowledging the slower pacing of Madney’s relationship because of her past experiences, Bobby’s unwillingness to forgive himself, Eddie’s anger management issues and poor coping skills in general, Buck not giving himself time to heal properly because of his need to be defined by helping people so he can feel ‘worthy’, and some characters even get to go and see a psychologist - with mixed results, that also aren’t properly followed up on, and when Eddie says he didn’t click with the psychologist that’s seemingly also the end of him dealing with his anger issues. A lot of the time, the show acknowledges mental wellbeing once, and then drops it completely - like Buck’s abandonment issues being dealt with only as a set up for Abby to come back. Lone Star does a little better with Judd’s trauma from his entire team dying in front of him, and his survivor’s guilt, and how that affects his relationship.

BUT season 3 of 911 actually laid some good ground work with Eddie Begins, with Athena unsure of whether she will get back to work, with Hen considering changing careers, and Maddie and Chim’s relationship playing out the way it did. I really hope that a lot of the events in season 4 - the baby and the anxiety that comes with that (especially if you have shitty parents), May starting work as a 9-1-1 operator, Eddie and Buck going to Texas, Buck Begins, will circle back to some of these traumatic experiences and give them more room to breathe along with the new stuff that will inevitably come up. I mean we already know there’s going to be a freaking mudslide and LAVA and wildfires, so.

Maybe one of the reasons we love fanfiction is because it gives you room to explore a facet of the characters or their lives that isn’t given much room in the canon, maybe because it doesn’t fit the tone of the show or the writers are focusing somewhere else. I think it’s also the reason why buddie is so popular while actual canon ships are less so - it’s the same in a lot of fandoms. You’ll always have more fanfiction about the stuff you don’t get to explore on screen - the other relationships you already get to see played out, so it doesn’t feel as necessary to write about. So in fanfiction, we can give the characters space to breathe and deal with everything, and we can be realistic in how a new emergency doesn’t erase the trauma of past experiences, and how LONG it would actually take to deal with some of these issues in real life. There are SO many fanfiction out there in the 9-1-1 AO3 tag that do this so well, and that have a really good handle on how these characters would or could still be affected by this stuff, whether it’s panic attacks or nightmares or unhealthy coping mechanisms or emotional hang ups like guilt and feelings of inadequacy.(I think this is the reason why I tend to not like fanfiction that puts a heavy emphasis on headcanon for more trauma like kidnappings or abuse or childood trauma. There’s already so much stuff we have seen in the show, and in the hints we get about Buck’s childhood for example, I don’t need insult added to injury so to speak. But to each their own, obviously.) And I think that’s really cool and something we should talk about and seek out and write about, because it’s a huge reason why we care about these characters so much. And we should also continue to hold the show to a standard of not erasing the trauma, and give it space even when we’re realistic about how much space it can have in the kind of show 9-1-1 is.

So I guess that’s a long way of saying I’m excited it seems that season 4 will focus a lot more in depth on character and dealing with all the stuff I listed above. And I can’t wait to see where Buck’s abandonment issues come from, or how Eddie and Buck could bond over having shitty parents.

#911 #911 on fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #maddie buckley #buckley siblings #chimney han #hen wilson #athena grant #bobby nash #911 season 4 #911 season 3 #911 season 2 #911 season 1 #9-1-1 #buddie

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anamelessfacelessnerd · 3 years

Text

Not me rewriting the ending to Mizumono only to have a much better idea halfway through so as soon as I finished the first one I started on the second

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Hannibal (TV)

Relationship: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter

Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Abigail Hobbs

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Mild Blood, Rough Sex, Coming Untouched, Not Beta Read, Dark Will Graham

Language: English

Summary: “I need him to know.” Will looked into Hannibal’s eyes then, searching for the desperation he could hear in his words. “If I confessed to Jack Crawford now, you think he would forgive me?”

“I would forgive you.” It’s clear that Hannibal’s not talking about the murder, but the betrayal. He would still forgive Will for conspiring against him. “If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, Will, would you accept his forgiveness?” The double meaning is apparent. Hannibal was asking Will if he would go with him knowing that Hannibal would forgive him. It’s an invitation. One that Will wasn’t sure he wanted to decline.

“Jack isn't offering forgiveness.” Hannibal wanted to say “I am”, but he didn't. “He wants justice. He wants to see you. See who you are. See who I've become. Know the truth.” Will takes another sip of his wine and Hannibal accepts his defeat. He really hadn’t wanted to hurt Will, but it seemed that it would be the only option.

“Still, I suppose we don’t owe Jack that do we?” Will spoke again.

Notes: Okay, I know I rewrote the ending of Mizumono yesterday, but I had this idea while I wrote it and I couldn't help myself.

“Do you know what an imago is, Will?” Hannibal asked.

“It's a flying insect,” Will replied.

“It's the final stage of a transformation. Maturity.”

“When you become who you will be,” Will said, catching on to the point Hannibal was making.

“It's also a term from the dead religion of psychoanalysis. An imago is an image of a loved one buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.”

“An ideal.”

“The concept of an ideal always searching for an objective reality to match. I have a concept of you just as you have a concept of me.”

“Neither of us are ideal,” Will says after taking a long drink of his wine. Hannibal considered what Will had just said for a moment. He had nearly trusted an ideal. He thought that Will would leave with him until he smelled Freddie Lounds on him. Perhaps Will was right, neither of them were ideal.

“We are both too curious about too many things for any ideals.” Hannibal paused a moment, feeling a twinge of hesitation for what he was about to ask. It was completely out of character for Hannibal to grovel, but in recent weeks he had grown accustomed to the idea of running away with Will, and he wasn’t quite ready to give the fantasy up. “Is it ideal that Jack die?”

Will matched Hannibal’s pause. Most would not even notice the hesitation, but Hannibal did.

“It's necessary. What happens to Jack has been preordained.” Will’s voice was cold, free from any emotion. In any other circumstance Hannibal would be proud of how well he schooled his expression, but now it just frustrated him.

“We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs. Leave a note for Dr. Bloom, never see her or Jack Crawford again. Almost polite,” Hannibal was nearly begging now and Will knew it. Their eyes locked and at once Will understood. Hannibal knew and he was willing to forgive.

“That'd make this our last supper,” Will said, considering Hannibal’s offer. Now, just days away from the sting that he and Jack had planned, Will still wasn’t sure whose side he was really on. Part of him wanted to be good, he wanted to atone for his sins and clear his name for good, because even though he had been acquitted, there were still those who believed he had actually killed all those people.

The other part of him wanted to become what everyone thought him to be. Though he hated to admit it, he had felt a thrill as he killed and mutilated Randall Tier. Even worse was that now thinking about that feeling didn’t make him feel guilty or sick, only enhanced the adrenaline.

If he was being completely honest, half of the thrill was seeing how Hannibal looked at him when he knew what Will had done. The subtle adoration and pride that he was no doubt allowing Will to see. Hannibal’s gaze made Will feel things, things that he had never felt with anyone before, and he wanted to chase that feeling.

“Of this life. I am serving lamb.”

“Sacrificial? Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” Will snorted.

“I freely claim my sin. I don't need a sacrifice. Do you?”

“I need him to know.” Will looked into Hannibal’s eyes then, searching for the desperation he could hear in his words. “If I confessed to Jack Crawford now, you think he would forgive me?”

“I would forgive you.” It’s clear that Hannibal’s not talking about the murder, but the betrayal. He would still forgive Will for conspiring against him. “If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, Will, would you accept his forgiveness?” The double meaning was apparent. Hannibal was asking Will if he would go with him knowing that Hannibal would forgive him. It’s an invitation. One that Will wasn’t sure he wanted to decline.

“Still, I suppose we don’t owe Jack that do we?” Will spoke again. Hannibal perked up almost imperceptibly.

“Perhaps a note will be sufficient. I didn’t want to leave the dogs alone, but they’ll be fine for a while. Knowing Jack he’ll send a cruiser to my place within an hour after I don’t show up in the morning.”

“Let us prepare then. I would like to be out of the country before Jack realizes that you are no longer his man on the inside.” Hannibal stood and began gathering plates to bring to the kitchen because of course he would want to leave the house spotless. Will helped him with the dishes and wiping everything down. They caught eyes several times, both revving with the anticipation of what was to come. Will considered apologizing for his conspiracy, but when he looked into Hannibal’s eyes he knew he was already forgiven.

It was a little intoxicating to know that he had this kind of control over hannibal. To know that he made Hannibal beg. He wondered how else he could compel him to beg. That was, once they stopped dancing around the physical aspect of their relationship and finally just fucked like they both wanted to.

Once they were finished they retired to the study to write a note. Hannibal wandered around, collecting particular books and knick knacks that he wanted to bring while Will drafted a note. After much thinking and many balled up pieces of paper, Will finally got it right. When he finished, he handed it to Hannibal to read.

“This will do nicely,” Hannibal said. He slipped the letter into an envelope and sealed it with blood red wax and a stamp that bore his initials.

Will watched as the wax dripped. The flow of the thick liquid was giving him all sorts of dirty thoughts. Thoughts of Hannibal pouring that warm liquid all over his body. Thoughts of being covered in other kinds of red liquid. Will had to take a deep breath to steady himself and bring some blood back up to his head.

When the wax had dried, Hannibal handed the letter to Will, fingers brushing against Will’s skin tenderly.

“I have a surprise for you,” Hannibal said, hand coming to grip Will’s wrist.

“Oh?” Will replied.

“Come with me.” Hannibal led Will upstairs, never letting go of his wrist. Will had only been to the upper floor of Hannibal’s house a few times, and never in the dark, so he didn’t really know where they were going. He had two ideas, one much more enticing than the other, but both equally likely.

As it turned out, neither of his assumptions were correct. Hannibal led him to a closed door at the end of the hallway and knocked.

“May we come in?” He asked. Will didn’t even have time to question who was in there before the door was being opened from the inside. Standing in the doorway was none other than Abigail Hobbs.

“Hi Will,” She said, a small smile playing on her chapped lips.

“Abigail?” Will asked, voice barely audible. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Had Hannibal drugged him? Was he hallucinating?

“How are you here? You’re dead,” Will said.

“Not dead, just misplaced,” Hannibal replied, “they never found a body, well, not a whole body at least. It was merely a charade.”

Abigail tucked her hair back to show Will the flesh where her ear had been. It was healed over by now, but it still brought a wave of bile up in Will’s throat.

“You’ve been here this whole time?” Will asked, choking down the anger that was building in him. There was no sense getting angry now, especially when he was teetering on the edge of a new beginning.

“I’m sorry,” Abigail said, tears welling in her eyes.

“I forgive you,” Will said. Abigail took two big steps forward and wrapped her arms around Will’s middle, burying her tears in his shirt. He brought a hand to her hair and stroked, both soothing her and assuring himself that she was really there and really alive.

“Thank you,” Will whispered to Hannibal. He wasn’t sure what he was thanking him for. Maybe for keeping Abigail alive, maybe for bringing him to her, maybe just because he didn’t know what else to say.

Hannibal’s hand came to rest between Will’s shoulder blades, fingertips shooting electricity down his spine.

“I do not wish to rush you two, but we must be going,” Hannibal said, “there is still much for us to do and little time to do it.”

Abigail pulled back from Will and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, sniffling a few times.

“Will, would you care to help me pack?” Hannibal asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Will cast one last glance at Abigail before following Hannibal to his bedroom.

“Everything in that top drawer must come,” Hannibal said as he set a large suitcase on the bed. Will began transferring the carefully folded garments from the dresser to the suitcase while Hannibal sorted through his suits to find the ones he liked best.

Will and Hannibal's hands brushed for what felt like the 500th time that night as they both attempted to place clothing in the suitcase at the same time. Their eyes met and there was a moment of contemplation before they pounced.

Will dragged Hannibal to the floor and straddled him, hands balling up around fistfulls of Hannibal’s jacket as he pressed their lips together. Hannibal kissed back with equal fervour, hands sliding back to cup Will’s ass. Will moaned into the kiss and rutted his hips against Hannibals. Hannibal bit Will’s lip, not stopping until he drew blood.

They broke away, panting and breathing each other in. Hannibal brought one hand to Will’s cheek and stroked, the pad of his thumb brushing over Will’s parted lips. Will sucked the digit into his mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive skin.

Will ground his hips down, ass rubbing against Hannibal’s rapidly hardening cock. The older man stared up at him in wonder, lips parted and eyes blown wide. He withdrew his hand, swiping his thumb along the bleeding cut on Will’s lip until the skin was stained red. Then he brought it to his own mouth, his eyes rolling back as he savored the metallic taste of his lover’s blood.

“You taste divine Will,” Hannibal said, deep voice sending tremors through Will’s body. That was it, that was the breaking point for Will.

“Take your fucking clothes off,” He demanded as he scrambled off of Hannibal to remove his own clothes.

“Such crass language,” Hannibal scolded, clicking his tongue disapprovingly, “whatever should I do about that?”

Hannibal was trying his best to regain some of the power he had lost in this exchange. Will would let him believe that he did, if only to sate his ego, but Will knew deep down that he was in control. He had known since before Hannibal had pleaded with him that he was in control here. Hannibal had several layers to his persona. The first was the polite, yet slightly eccentric doctor who loved good food and opera, behind that was the calculating psychopath cold, and emotionless. His true personality was hidden deep within himself, but Will was able to see it, after all, he had not yet met a person he couldn’t read.

The person that Hannibal truly was was driven by his emotions. Anger and hurt bubbled under his skin, suppressed by years of burying everything akin to a feeling deep below the surface. He was intensely narcissistic and hedonistic. Everything he did was to fulfill his desires. He ate to satiate his hunger, he killed to assuage a compulsion. He acted solely in his own self interests, and right now Will was his interest. That gave Will ultimate power over Hannibal. He wanted Will in every sense of the word, and would do nearly everything to have him.

Perhaps what solidified Will’s control was the fact that he was aware of this while Hannibal wasn’t. Hannibal had spent so much effort repressing feelings that he genuinely believed that they were never there in the first place. Will knew about Hannibal’s nature, not from the beginning, no he was fooled like everyone else at first, but certainly longer than he let on. He only raised the issue with Jack when he was in danger.

Will put on the facade of being overly emotional, of being unstable, but deep down he was something different entirely. That’s why he was so good at “faking” the coldness he showed with Hannibal, it was never fake, the emotions were fake, and Hannibal was none the wiser. This was Will’s game and Hannibal was barely aware he was playing.

“Will?” Hannibal asked, pulling Will from his thoughts. He kneeled in front of him, now fully nude, his erection jutting out proudly from a bed of well trimmed blonde curls.

“Fuck me,” Will insisted, trying to pass his momentary spacyness off as fascination with the admittedly impressive cock that hung between Hannibal’s legs.

“As you wish.” Yes, as Will wishes. Hannibal will do exactly as Will wishes.

Will doesn’t wait for any more negotiations. He turns around and sinks to his elbows, thighs spread wide to accommodate Hannibal. He heard the older man’s breath catch as Will displayed himself.

“Oh Will, you truly are exquisite. Beauty incarnate.” Hannibal mused. Will watched between his legs as Hannibal reached into the bedside table for a bottle of lube. Hannibal poured the lube onto his fingers, then pressed them to Will’s hole, tracing the rim to get it nice and wet.

Will buried his face in his crossed arms to stifle a moan. The last thing he needed was for Hannibal to know exactly how sensitive he actually was and to exploit that fact. They didn’t have much time and Will was really just looking to be fucked.

Finally, one finger breached Will. It slid in with little resistance and Hannibal added a second. His thumb came to press against Will’s perineum as he scissored his fingers. Will let out a choked sob when Hannibal’s other hand tangled in his hair and pulled his head up sharply.

“I want to hear you Will. I want to hear exactly how much you like this.”

“God, just fuck me already Hannibal,” Will begged, “I’m ready, just get in me.”

Hannibal withdrew his fingers at once. Will didn’t even have a chance to get a word out before Hannibal was pressing his cock inside.

“There you go sweet boy, taking my cock so well, like you were made for it. Like you were born to take me.”

Will had never heard Hannibal speak so lewdly before, but he liked it more than he would ever care to admit. Not that he even could right now with Hannibal thrusting into him with punishing force, hitting his prostate every time.

Hannibal still had one hand in Will’s hair. The other was gripping his hip so tight he would undoubtedly have finger shaped bruises in the morning. He brought his lips down to Will’s shoulder, placing a few gentle kisses there, and that would simply not do. Will needed him to be rough, he needed to be fucked hard.

“Harder,” Will grunted, “come on Hannibal, you can do better than that. Do it like I know you want to. Hurt me.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Hannibal panted.

“Fuck yes, give it to be Hannibal, fucking ruin me.”

Hannibal complied immediately, using all of the force he could to pound into Will like he was trying to split him clean in half. He bit down hard on Will’s shoulder, just short of drawing blood.

Will rocked back to meet every thrust, letting out a litany of pathetic noises that he probably should have been embarrassed about. Hannibal was groaning now too, grunting like a beast in Will’s ear as he shoved in impossibly deeper.

Will’s orgasm was so sudden, he didn’t even feel it coming. In an instant his body went rigid as white hot pleasure coiled in his abdomen and he came completely untouched.

After coming for what felt like hours, he dropped to the floor, thighs shaking too hard to support himself any longer.

Once he had caught his breath, Will rolled over onto his back and spread his legs.

“Keep going,” he told Hannibal, “I want you to use me to make yourself come.”

Hannibal didn’t need to be told twice before sliding back into Will. He hoisted the younger man’s knees up over his shoulders to get a better angle as he slammed in over and over again.

At last, Hannibal gave a final hard thrust and spilled inside Will, coating his insides with his seed. He pulled out and laid on the floor next to him, breathing hard and trembling.

“I would have run away with you a long time ago if I had known that was in store for me,” Will panted, struggling to sit up.

“If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time,” Hannibal said, reaching over to brush a lock of curly hair behind his ear.

Will smiled and kissed Hannibal again. It was softer this time, full of much more affection, especially on Hannibal’s behalf.

“I would sit here with you for eternity Will, but I fear that we must leave soon. We would not want to keep Abigail waiting.” Hannibal said when they pulled away.

“Of course, but first will you promise me something?”

“What is it that you desire?”

“Do that again as soon as we get to wherever we’re going.” Hannibal grinned and cupped Will’s cheek.

“I would gladly have you every day, my dear Will.”

Notes: Listen, we all know who's actually in control and this relationship and it's not Hannibal "Simp" Lecter.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #abigail hobbs #smut #fanfic #ao3 #hannigram fic #hannibal fanfiction #mizumono #2.13

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

Text

We’ll make it work; Wanda x Vision x child reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well it’s been a LOOONG time since I posted something OUTSIDE of the Bohemian Rhapsody/Queen fandom. So I hope that my marvel readers enjoy this cute little fic that had been on my wattpad inbox since like last Sept. And I PROMISE to those anons who have sent me requests from Doctor Who and a couple more marvel stuff, I WILL GET TO YOUR REQUESTS ASAP. So I’ll stop here for now and let you all enjoy this cute little fic :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@queensdivas

@platawnic

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

_______________________________________________________

They said it couldn’t be done. Hell everyone would say it was downright unnatural but yet it was finally happening. After the whole battle with Thanos and managing to bring everyone back, Wanda and Vision settled down together in a quiet suburban home in upstate New York.

They built their house from the ground up using their own two hands and decided that now with the white picket fence home, they could now start thinking about having a family together. Now of course Vision being a machine he can’t physically reproduce but as luck would have it, there was an orphanage just 30 minutes from where they lived.

Wanda submitted an application to the orphanage introducing themselves and what their preference for adopting was. They had agreed on wanting to adopt a little girl, preferably around 4-6 years old. With some interviews, home visits, and looking through the files, Wanda and Vision finally came to an agreement on their dream child, young (Y/n) (l/n).

An orphan that was brought to the orphanage after her mom gave birth to her in prison.

Her parents were would-be-robbers who mostly robbed homes or cabins but then they got cocky hoping to rob a bank. Unfortunately they were caught right before they got even a foot away from the bank. It was there her mom found out she was pregnant and gave birth in prison before the foster system brought her to the orphanage.

After reading her backstory, Wanda and Vision knew immediately they wanted to have her. So she called the orphanage and set up a meet and greet and in one week they would get to meet their future daughter.

When the day arrived, Wanda and Vision (in his human disguise) drove up to the orphanage where they met the Head organizer Ms. Eliza Soo. She asked them some questions that weren’t on the application like what their current jobs were, and since they were publicly named heroes, that they had their powers under control for the sake of their future daughter.

The two heroes assured Ms. Soo that they had full control of their powers and do not intend on showing their powers before young (Y/n) unless she asks them to. After about 15 minutes of chatting away, Ms. Soo told them.

“Alright. Now unlike most meet and greets that other orphanages do, we personally would like to see how the potential parents interact with our children. Instead of trying to force the child to talk in a room with 2 strangers, we ask that the potential adopters meet the child in the Playroom. Are you two up for that?”

“Yes of course. I personally understand what it feels like. For most of my childhood it was only my brother and I for years before he…...” Wanda said. At the mention of her brother, tears flickered in her eyes but Vision took her hand in both of his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“My wife lost her brother just shortly after we met. They were both orphaned when they were 10 years old back in her old home of Sokovia.”

“Oh I’m so sorry Ms. Maximoff, my condolences on your loss. I lost my brother around that age too. Gunshot by a rival gang member.” She took a deep breath in before exhaling out. “Now then, (Y/n) should already be heading towards the playroom if not already there by now. Allow me to escort you there so that you three may get acquainted with each other.” The three of them stood up and Ms. Soo guided them out of her office and down the hall.

They soon reached a room that was labeled at the top of the door PLAYROOM. Decorated all over the door were various art projects that the kids have done and at the bottom there were their names and ages.

“Now we’ll just observe you guys from the double-sided mirrors and see how you guys interact with her. If we see that there’s a connection, then we can proceed with the legal adoption.”

“Thank you Ms. Soo.” Vision said. She nodded and walked off leaving the couple alone by the door. The two of them looked at each other and Wanda asked her husband and partner.

“You ready?”

“If you are, then so am I.” Vision responded. Wanda then reached for the doorknob and turned it on its side to open it up.

When they stepped into the room, it was completely filled with every kid of children’s toys imaginable from toy cars and trucks, dolls and action figures, even a small TV with a videogame console. There was also drawings hung up along the wall just like there were on the door.

Soon their eyes came to young 4 year old (Y/n) (L/n). She was at a small circular table with some paper and crayons surrounding her. Happily humming to herself as she continued to draw on the paper. When she saw Wanda and Vision, her head tilted to the side like an intrigued puppy.

“Are you my new mommy and daddy?”

“We—we hope to be.” Answered Wanda. A wide smile soon spread across her face and she raced right up to them and immediately embraced Wanda. Once she felt that little girl embrace her, a warm sensation fell over her and she already felt that maternal instinct take over. Wanda knelt down and embraced young (Y/n) and she said. “So what is it you were drawing?”

“Come look. I’ve been working really hard on it!” like every excited child that wanted to show off their accomplishments, she dragged them both to the table and they all sat down around it and she began to show them all the drawings she’s done.

Some of them were drawings of herself out in a flower field, with her favorite animals, but one picture struck out to the two of them.

“What is this picture of (Y/n)?” Vision said as he held up a picture of (Y/n) standing between two adult figures. But they had no hair or facial features drawn yet.

“That’s a picture of me with my new family. I…..I didn’t want to finish it till I knew it was for real. Are you guys really gonna be my new parents?” Wanda smiled and gently placed her hand on top of (Y/n)’s head and stroked down it.

“If Ms. Soo thinks we’re good with you, then yes. We will be.”

“I know one way that can help you, follow me!” she then stood up and raced over to the toy chest and opened it up. Inside were dozens of costumes ranging from feather boas, to every kind of hat imaginable. Donated Halloween costumes, and even some props. “Since you guys are real life heroes, do you think we could play superheroes?”

Both Vision and Wanda were a little hesitant but after seeing the hopeful look in (Y/n)’s face, they agreed. So they want up to her and they dug through the costume chest to see what all they could find.

With the wide imagination (Y/n)’s had, her and Wanda would be the heroes while Vision was to play the giant fire breathing dinosaur. They stacked up some blocks for the town and places the toy cars to make it feel like an actual city.

Watching them through the double-shift mirror, Ms. Soo along with some of the other workers watched the two former heroes interact with (Y/n).

“Seems (Y/n) has finally found the family she’s always wanted.” Said one of the female workers.

“I agree.” Said a male worker. Ms. Soo who had been watching with interest, began to realize that maybe her employers were right.

After about 10min. of playtime and just getting to know her a bit more, that’s when Ms. Soo stepped into the room. Her face was stoic as she looked at the three of them.

Wanda and Vision stood up and Vision asked.

“Ms. Soo, is there something wrong?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I’ve seen all that I’ve wanted to see. And……you guys have proven to me that you’re meant to be her future parents.”

“Really Ms. Soo?! Wanda and Vision are gonna be my new mommy and daddy?” (Y/n) asked excitedly.

“Indeed they are. We’ll have the legal forms printed out and have you both sign them. Then in a couple of weeks you can officially move in with them to your new home.” Ecstatic about the news, (Y/n) jumped up and down happily cheering at the fact she now had a new mom and dad, not only that but her new parents were Scarlet Witch and Vision.

“Thank you Ms. Soo. Thank you.” Wanda said happily.

“No need to thank me. You’re truly shown me that you both are the perfect couple to take her in.”

So for the next couple of weeks, Wanda and Vision signed any legal papers that the orphanage would send to them, get (Y/n)’s room ready for her and buy her some new toys, clothes and get her bed all made up.

Vision was currently outside building the playground that they wanted (Y/n) to play in the backyard. It wasn’t anything grand just the basic swing set and jointed mini-clubhouse. But as he was reading the instructions for how to hook the swings up that’s when he heard the gossiping voices of one of the neighbors next door, Karen and Felicia.

“Have you heard about the couple next door adopting a kid?” asked Felicia.

“Yes. That poor kid, having to be adopted by a bunch of freaks.” Karen mouthed out.

“I mean Wanda’s an okay girl, but I just worry about that boyfriend of hers.”

“Like he’s a freakin machine! You’ve seen all those robot shows. What if he goes all Terminator on that poor little girl?”

“I’d feel safer if her and Wanda bailed when that robot isn’t looking.”

“Amen to that sister. Oh! Did you see the recent Housewives of Orange County….” At this point Vision stopped working and went back inside.

He phased through the wall before levitating himself up towards the master bedroom and just stood there with an array of emotions buzzing about his head. Anger, fear, hurt, heartbroken, but most of all doubt.

Was he really able to take care of a child….scratch that a human being? He was an android after all. What hope could he possibly have of taking care of a human child? He couldn’t taste properly so there’s no way he’d be able to cook for his new daughter. There are some human emotions that he still has trouble deciphering, so how would he know what his daughter was feeling, especially once she reached her teenage years?

“Vis?” Wanda’s voice called out to him. He looked up and saw Wanda kneeling in front of him. Vision soon took notice that he was now on the floor, his knees curled up close to his chest, his back up against the wall. “Are you okay?”

“Wanda I—”

“Shhh, calm down. Breathe for me.” She placed her hand to the side of his head, her fingers gently brushing against his temple and he closed his eyes taking in a few deep breaths. “You okay now?”

“Yes. Forgive me I—don’t know what came over me.”

“You were having an anxiety attack.”

“How—how is that possible?” Vision asked. He was an android how could he have an anxiety attack?

“I don’t know.”

“Well we’ll—we’ll worry about how that’s possible later. Do you want to tell me what it was all about?” Vision looked down with regret and he whispered softly.

“I was a fool to think I could do this.”

“What? What are you saying?”

“Me. Being a—a father. To a human child.”

“What? Vision why—why would you say something like that?”

“I’m not fully human Wanda. I mean yes I can pull the disguise but—when it all comes down to it I’m a machine. After all I was originally supposed to be Ultron’s Vision.”

“But you’re not…….”

“There could be another threat. A threat that—puts you and our……I’m sorry Wanda. I shouldn’t have even spoken up about this.”

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me. Look at me Vision.” She cupped the side of his face. Her eyes filled with concern as her brow furrowed to match the concern in her eyes. “There is nothing wrong with speaking up about something like this. I’m scared too.”

“But you’re at least human. What if I—what if I hurt her?”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I feel you. Just you. And when we played with (Y/n) just two weeks ago, I could feel just how happy you were. You will not hurt her.”

“But what if…..”

“Stop.” She held out her hand as she spoke softly. She then moved her hand and gently with her powers, showed Vision a memory of when they first met (Y/n).

Specifically the memory of when both him and (Y/n) were playing together. It was when she (as the superhero) had slain the reptile creature and he allowed her to climb on top of him and do a victory pose with her fake sword and shield. After awhile that’s when he suddenly came back alive and he began to playfully tickle her.

After seeing that memory, Vision turned to Wanda and she said with a warm smile.

“That’s how I know you won’t hurt her. After just knowing her for that short 10min. of playtime. You were just like how my father was with me. Kind, caring, and a heart full of love.”

“You do realize I don’t actually have a heart right?” she arched her brow at Vision annoyed. “Right, sorry.”

“You know what I mean. What I’m trying to tell you Vis is that it doesn’t matter whether your human or machine, (Y/n) loves you for who you are, who you’re going to be to her. You’re the only father she’ll never know. And as long as you care and love her, it doesn’t matter what you look like.” Vision nodded and said to his love, tears flickering in his eyes.

“Thank you Wanda. Thank you.”

“I love you Vis. So does (Y/n). I won’t deny that we’ll probably make a million mistakes but so long as we both love her together, I know we’re doing something right.” The two of them shared a soft but loving kiss before embracing each other.

In a few days (Y/n) was soon moved into her new home and just like Wanda told him, they both loved and gave her the care she was denied from her birth parents.

Of course there were the skeptical neighbors but Vision hardly paid them any mind now, because as long as he was loved by his new daughter, that’s all that mattered to him.

Also I won’t confirm or deny that when Wanda finally found out just who was responsible for putting doubt into Vision’s head in the first place, she may or might not have given Karen visions of her worst memories and fears, while making Felicia think she had a poltergeist in her house.

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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

Text

Coffee, crushes and complications

This was prompted by a lovely anon! I hope you like it, I sure did!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: pre-Reed900 [Prequel] [Part2] [Part3] [Part4]

‘Reed? In my office!‘ Gavin couldn’t think of what he had done wrong, but considering how many times he had heard this sentence before, the anxiety settled in immediately. Still, he stood up, downed the last sip of coffee and walked over to his boss’ office. ‘Yes? What’s wrong?’, he asked, sitting down in the chair in front of the table. ‘What’s wrong?’ The man in front of him laughed heartily and Gavin nervously laughed, too. God, had he phcked up that badly with his last job? ‘Reed, nothing’s wrong, quite the opposite! How you handled this rich asshole was… I would say impressive, but that doesn’t do the thing justice. God, how they could ever throw you out of the police force, I can’t understand. You didn’t let him off the hook until he answered your questions and gave him nothing to work with! That is investigative journalism at it’s finest and damnit, Reed, no one else deserves it more!’ ‘What?’, Gavin asked relieved, but also proud. ‘A raise! I would promote you, but I need you where you are now. I hope you understand that?’ ‘Hey, sure. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than in the field.’ ‘Alright. Then I’ll just sign the papers and send them to you. Really, Reed, you out-did yourself with this one!’

When Gavin came home that day, the first thing he did was jump and cheer in triumph, then pick up his unsuspecting cat and hurl her around. ‘Oh, Bready, today is the day!’ He kissed her on her shoulder, before she finally decided she had enough with an angry growl. Immediately Gavin let her fall to the ground and hurried to the kitchen, grabbing the phone along the way. The number he searched for was only two clicks away and he let it ring while pouring out some kibble for Bready and heating up yesterday’s leftovers. ‘Hey, Eli!’, he excitedly called into the phone. ‘How are you? You won’t believe what happened today!’ He let his brother guess a few times until the microwave pinged and he let himself and his food fall on the couch. ‘Urgh, Eli you are boring and have too much creativity at your hands. No, I got a raise! Honestly, getting fired might have been the best thing to ever happen to me. I get raises for being a nosy asshole! My new boss phcking loves me and my colleagues actually seem to like me. Oh, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. We need to celebrate that! When are you free?’

He took a breath and began eating while listening to his brother complain about new work politics. Gavin actually felt with him for once. His view on androids had changed quite a bit. He got to know quite a few androids during his work and the day one of his colleagues had come in in tears saying they would have to resign because of some anti-android assholes, Gavin had changed. It had only been a few months since he started his new life, but for the first time he felt like he had his life under control. And like he enjoyed it. Being fired from the only job he thought to be ever good in had been hard. But after being stuck in that low for weeks he had realised that if he wanted to be happy, he had to work for it. And he did. And it had become better. Seeking professional help, reconciling with his brother and finally finding a new job he actually liked had been the end of a long journey that was far from over. But he was happy. And he was confident it would go up only from now on.

Their conversation dropped into casual talk, a few jokes and teasing. It was already late when Gavin decided to end it for today. He was tired and he wanted to at least watch another episode of this new show he enjoyed so much. ‘Okay, so when do you actually have time? Tomorrow? Nah, can’t do, I’m meeting Tina at this new coffee shop. Maybe on the weekend? Yes? Oh, that would be awesome. Okay, bye! Love you too!’

He smiled as he wanted to stand up to bring the phone back, but Bready had already made herself at home in his lap, so he just laid it to the side and switched on the TV.

‘Hey Tina!’, Gavin greeted the woman already standing in line. She turned around and her face lit up. Shortly after, Gavin was encased in strong arms and had to chuckle. ‘Hey, hey, let me down, alright?’ ‘God, I haven’t seen you in ages!’ ‘You saw me last month’, Gavin reminded her. ‘I see you dipshit every week on TV! That’s not the same. I miss you.’ ‘Wait you watch it?’ ‘Of course I watch it!’, Tina said and punched his shoulder. ‘What do you think of me? Also, it’s funny seeing you be a dick to people that obviously hide one or two bodies under a rug somewhere.’ Gavin shrugged. ‘Well, whatever floats your boat.’ ‘It’s good to see you like it’, Tina then said seriously. ‘I worried about you after you left.’ ‘I know’, Gavin groaned. ‘But I’m fine, okay? Really, I feel better than ever. Now shut your mouth for a while, I have to think what I want to order for a moment…’

They got their coffee and tea as well as two slices of cake soon enough and sat down in a corner of the room. ‘So, how’s work on your end?’, Gavin asked. ‘Hmm, nothing interesting at the moment. We had a suspected serial killer last week, but it turned out the cases weren’t connected after all and thankfully nothing more than the two murders happened before we got them. Otherwise… Nah, nothing interesting you want to talk about.’ So only stuff regarding the new guy. Gavin had said upfront he didn’t want to know anything about the person that had replaced him. It wouldn’t be any use after all. Tina thankfully respected his decision.

‘I did get to know someone’, she then smirked as silence threatened to stretch. ‘A beautiful, funny android lady. She also likes cats!’ ‘Oh that’s cool, tell me more!’, Gavin demanded and smiled, listening to Tina ramble on, cake and tea completely forgotten. Gavin had been determined to listen intently to her, but his attention was drawn from her as someone entered the coffee shop. Someone very familiar. ‘You got to be kidding me’, he hissed, and Tina caught on to him, turning around. There at the counter stood Hank and Connor, looking at the board. Wait. Was that another Connor? ‘Hey, T, who’s the other Connor?’, he whispered. ‘Can’t tell you without breaking a promise’, she admitted, ducking her head. ‘No phcking way a damn Connor replaced me!’

Maybe he had been louder than expected, maybe Connor just had picked up his name, but the RK800 turned around to him, eyes going wide and tapping Hank on the shoulder pointing over. Hank looked in his direction and apparently wanted to bolt immediately, but the friendly barista behind the counter had already placed their drinks on it. In that moment, the other Connor following them had spotted him too. The next thing he did was march over with large steps.

‘Oh hell no, I’m not doing this! I-‘ ‘Hello. My name is Richard. I’m sorry to have replaced you.’ ‘Oh, get phcked!’ Gavin was not having it. He had wanted to drink his coffee and talk to his best friend. He had no interest in talking to this machine. ‘I have waited very long for this moment, my colleagues having tried their best to make this meeting impossible. So, no, I won’t “get phcked”. Not before I you didn’t accept my apology.’ ‘Yeah, whatever. It’s fine. I was an asshole. Deserved getting fired. Now shoo!’ ‘I still don’t deserve getting a job when a human needs them to survive. It wasn’t fair. I heard you… did not fare well after being fired.’ Gavin took a deep breath, before standing up, the sound of the chair scratching on the ground like a precursor of a fight. ‘Listen here, Richard’, he said, pointing his finger at his chest. ‘My personal history doesn’t concern you in the slightest, okay? It’s true, I wasn’t stable in my old job. I was easily angered, I overworked myself on a regular basis without even realising it in the end. I had no friends. I am depressed. My life was one giant, gaping shithole. When I was fired it was for a good reason, but it send me spiralling even deeper down. But you know what? One day I hit rock bottom and knew it couldn’t get any worse than this, might as well try to make it better. And I worked hard for it. I worked my ass off trying to rebuild bridges I’ve burned and seek help. Get over my own walls and live. Be happy. Find a job. And you know what, you goddamn tin-can? I did it. I am a different man and I am happy. So don’t-‘ He took another breath to steady himself. ‘Don’t you dare giving me pity. I am no sorry broken soul you can comfort so you feel better! So you have completed your good deed a day! I am fine. I am better than fine. So thanks, but no thanks. Don’t need it. Phck off.’

That actually worked. The android blinked at him, obviously processing, before apologising and heading over to where Connor and Hank had sat down. Gavin got back on his seat, too and took a large gulp of his coffee. As he sat the mug down, he stared into a grinning face. ‘What?’ ‘So aggressive’, Tina laughed. ‘Dude, the guy just wanted to be nice.’ ‘Oh, did he?’, Gavin grumbled and tried to get an inconspicuous look at the android. Of course, he had chosen the same moment Richard had looked over at him, so he quickly turned back around. ‘Yes’, Tina chuckled. ‘You don’t know how annoying he can be. Replacing you being unfair is the one topic he can’t shut up about.’ ‘Perfect’, Gavin sighed, but couldn’t keep his thoughts in check. Had this android really tried to advocate for someone he didn’t even know? ‘Yeah, always said how after going through your open cases and notes, he couldn’t believe someone fired you. He thinks you are some kind of genius I think.’ ‘Oh, wow, an android has a work-crush on me’, Gavin over-exaggerated and rolled his eyes. ‘Hey, you wouldn’t be that far from the truth there’, Tina shrugged. ‘”Gavin Reed would not have” is like every second sentence of his. It’s cute actually. And ever since you put him in his place just now, he is staring at you, that fancy mood-light turning yellow.’ ‘It’s what-‘ Gavin turned around, cursing when he stared in his eyes again: ‘Shit! What’s his problem? Anyways, you wanted to tell me more about Steph. Please. I beg you. Ramble about your soon to be girlfriend, I want to think about anything but this android.’

Richard on the other hand knew exactly what his problem was. He had exactly 335 software instabilities and errors to keep track of while he couldn’t keep his eyes off this human. He had known the man to be remarkable. But after that reaction? Oh, he definitely had to get to know him better. So, long after the human had left the shop and even after he had driven home, Richard was still planning how to see the man again. Maybe Tina had been right. Maybe he truly had a crush.

[>next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #Gavin Reed #Tina Chen #RK900 #Okay but honestly investigative journalist!Gavin would be something I would love to read more about #but I'd guess AO3 doesn't have anything on that #let's see #Also soft!Nines hell yes

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 3 years

Text

Winter Whumperland Day 8: Lucky

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 8. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 7 'Delirium'. There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout, Toothless, Ryker, Viggo

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 464

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Obsessive whumper”

Whumpee: Hiccup (and Toothless in a way)

Author’s Notes: This was supposed to be up already, but I got very distracted by Attack on Titan. I finished my rewatch and I had 3 episodes of season 4 that I needed to catch up on and then I got very distracted by the reactors I follow that I know watch this show, too.

Constructive criticism is appreciated! Including on the tags!

Enjoy!

Ao3

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There was the chance meeting in that coffee shop, but it is one late evening in early June that Hiccup's life takes a sudden turn for the worse.

It's late when he returns home from work. He's completely drained after being on his feet all day and when he steps in through the front door, what he longs for most is to kick off his shoes and prosthetic and crash onto the couch.

Someone has other ideas, as he can tell by the stomping footsteps coming up from behind him as he closes the front door.

They halt, one slipper tapping impatiently on the carpeted floor, and Hiccup knows he's in trouble. He slowly turns to see one furious Astrid Hofferson.

She'd come the second she heard the door open and she'd jumped off the couch to catch him and block his way to the living room. Her blonde hair is undone and lays comfortably on her shoulder.

"Uh, good evening? Milady?" He greets her hesitantly, deciding that a polite approach is probably a better idea than a sassy one.

"What took you so long? You were supposed to clock out two hours ago!" Astrid crosses her arms, a hip out, and awaits a good excuse. He hasn't even called her to let her know that he would be later or anything!

Hiccup puffs out a nervous breath as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unsure what to tell her. Upon seeing this, Astrid lets out an agitated sigh, reeling with her boyfriend's thoughtless decision-making.

"Viggo again?" She asks with a hard tone and he knows there is no denying it. Besides, she'd know if he was lying. So he nods honestly instead and she's already throwing her hands up.

"He came by at the coffee shop for a game of chess and I thought I'd entertain him for a little while!" Hiccup hurriedly replies, already imagining Astrid's disappointment in him.

"For two whole hours?!" Her voice raises, she's not too impressed.

"Ugh, yeah..."

"Hiccup, I can't believe you!" She expresses her disbelief before turning on her heels to return to the living room.

"He's obviously a lonely man, Astrid! He just wants some company and a listening ear once in a while!" He tries to reason with her as he follows her to the other room, where Snotlout is sitting on the couch.

Viggo just comes across as a lonely man to him. No partner, no kids, no friends outside of business, and a brother he rarely sees eye to eye with. It makes him want to take at least a few minutes out of his time to spend on him.

"Once in a while, he comes by almost every day, Hiccup! Today, he swallowed up two hours of your time! And after work, too!" Halting before the television, Astrid spins on her heels again to face Hiccup. "Hiccup Haddock, I know you're not a pushover, but somehow this guy gets you to let him walk all over you."

Snotlout should be annoyed that he can no longer watch the tv, the bickering couple interrupting his watch, but that matters little to him

"Heh, Viggo again, Hiccup?" He asks, finding amusement in that fact.

"You know, Hiccup, if you'd rather spend time with some lonely middle-aged dude then your own girlfriend, maybe you should go hook up with him. We'll question your kinks and tastes, though." He adds with a chuckle.

"Not funny, Snot." The couple tells him and Hiccup sighs afterward, awkwardly moving from one foot to another once more. He's tired and his leg hurts and he doesn't like fighting with Astrid. And to make matters worse, he has some news, too. It's not bad news, but he wonders if it'll be received well after Astrid's reaction.

She stands there, fuming, and she probably has plenty of reason to be. His not calling her to let her know where he's at, spending his after work hours with someone who is a virtual stranger to her, who is a creep in her eyes, pushing his own needs aside for someone who clearly has no eye out for his, ... Yup, plenty of reasons. And he might just be about to make it worse.

"Also... I won't be able to sleep here tonight." But it's better to just come out and sat it, so he tells her, his arms crossing.

"And why is that?" Astrid asks, not too pleased. It's Friday evening, she'd hoped to spend at least a little bit of time with him. You know, the time Viggo hasn't selfishly taken for himself yet.

"Well, Toothless came to find me again. I saw him sitting on the rooftop when I got back and... Well, see for yourself." Hiccup gestures towards a rather large window on one side of the room and Snotlout and Astrid look over to find the Night Fury there, watching them through the glass. He's sitting on the fire escape and looks very much like a cat expecting to be let in.

Finally seen, he yowls, wondering what's taking them so long. Hiccup has known all along that he's there, why is he making him wait?

"Oh, the neighbors are going to love this." Astrid groans, cringing at the sound. Snotlout covers his ears.

"Oh, I'm sure they will, which is why I'm dropping off my uniform and going back downstairs to meet him. I'll fly him back to the sanctuary and spent the night at my mom's because I'm-"

"Dead tired from all the work you've done? With a prosthetic?" Astrid cuts him off as she finishes his sentence for him. It's not like she thinks he can't do the same work someone else can, but Hiccup's reality is that standing on his feet all day will make him more exhausted than it would make an abled person. Astrid is aware of this, she just wishes Hiccup would be a little more self-aware from time to time.

Mouth still open, Hiccup stares at her for a moment.

"Uh, yeah, that. But anyway, I'll let you know in the morning if I'll be back tomorrow or Sunday evening." He lets her and Snotlout know before heading over to the bedroom he shares with Astrid.

He's been holding the uniform in his hands. It consists of a dark brown apron and a little hat that feels like paper, though they're all pretty sure it's not made out of paper. He hangs them both up on the coatrack hanging from their bedroom door.

When he comes back into the living room, Astrid is standing before him again.

"Okay, but I doubt he brought a saddle, so will you at least be careful?" She asks of him, still exasperated, but him spending time with Toothless is far better than the alternative, which is the middle-aged man seemingly clinging to a young adult. A young adult who isn't quite 20 yet, no less.

"Of course, Milady, when am I not?" Hiccup asks her with a smile, feeling like they are on slightly better terms now. He'll make it up to her somehow, he doesn't want her feeling like she comes second to some guy he's only known for a few weeks.

Sighing deeply, Astrid comes over and plants her lips on his for a kiss. They don't have any space in their home for a dragon as big as a Night Fury. So, unfortunately, she has no other choice but to let him go. Hiccup returns it wholeheartedly, heart skipping a beat in joy. When does she not make him happy?

When they pull away, Astrid pulls on his hoodie, straightening it out.

"Are you sure that's warm enough for the trip?" She asks him, knowing he gets cold easily. He's about the only person she knows who can still wear long sleeves in the summer. The amount of layers this man needs to get through the colder months is insane.

"I think I'll manage."

"That's not a good answer, Haddock, and you know that."

Snotlout groans in the background at seeing the affection, head rolling back, but they mostly ignore him. So he groans louder on purpose.

"How can I stand living with you two?" He questions when they look over, neither too happy with his interruption.

Toothless yowls again outside and someone shouts at "the big cat" to be quiet.

"Geez, impatient much?" Hiccup mutters under his breath and gestures to his dragon to get down from the fire escape. He should get going before Toothless gets them all kicked out of here.

"Again, be careful. And oh, don't forget to call when you arrive and tell your mom we said "hi"." Astrid quickly says as Hiccup heads for the door.

"I will! I'll see you guys later, Snotlout, Milady." At that last one, he shoots Astrid a quick smile.

Snotlout lets his head roll back again and-

"If you groan one more time, it's off to bed with you."

It takes a quick ride on the elevator down, but Hiccup is outside soon enough. It's summer and that means the air is cooler then it is during the day, but not quite cool enough. Even so, Hiccup pulls on his hoodie to cover as much of his collarbone and neck as it can before he looks up towards the top of the building.

"Bud?!" He calls out excitedly, expecting to be tackled by a dragon much bigger and much heavier than him in the next few seconds. He's bracing himself, it could come from any direction...

But instead, there is no response.

Strange.

"Bud!" Hiccup calls out again, didn't he hear him the first time? Dragons of his kind usually have a good hearing. Or he ignoring his calls? Making him wait because it's been so long since he's come by for a visit? He hates admitting it, but work has been kicking his ass. It's hard to do anything on most days and even during most weekends he finds himself in need of the mere two days of rest he can get.

"It's because you haven't worked a day in your life, son, you'll get used to it." Hiccup can hear his father say in his head and he can still feel the need to roll his eyes. He's worked! At the sanctuary and only what he was allowed to do, but he's done stuff before!

"Toothless?!" Moving from the sidewalk to between two parked cars to hopefully get a better view of the roof, Hiccup tries again, but gets no answer this time either. He was hoping to at least see some earfins pop up by now.

"Really, Toothless? Is this the time to play hide and seek?" Hiccup mutters to himself. He knows his dragon misses him terribly when they're not together, he misses him, too, but now's not the time. He's tired and he would like to fly back to the sanctuary already.

Checking the road behind him and finding the street empty for the moment, Hiccup cautiously takes another step or two back. In this part of the city, people usually don't drive as fast as they can in the busier parts. And at this hour, not too many cars come by either.

"Toothless, seriously?!" He calls up again, keeping a careful eye and ear out on either side of him. Don't tell him he's stuck on the fire escape again.

"Are you stuck?! Do I need to come get you?!" Hiccup asks, never losing sight of the street he's on. It's still quiet so far, no approaching lights, no roaring engines.

Finally, Toothless calls back to him and the call sounds far, so he must still be in the fire escape after all. Sighing, Hiccup figures he may as well look.

It's at that moment, probably by pure dumb luck, that a dark car with no plates and tinted windows comes speeding from around the corner.

Driving at speeds way, way above the limit, the car can't possibly be avoided. Hiccup sees it coming, has only seconds to stare into the blinding headlights as they come too fast, and there's nothing he can do but get hit.

The front of the vehicle hits his right side with full force first and he ends up on the hood for a brief moment. It all happens so fast, before long he rolls onto the pavement and is left to lie there on the ground. The collision broke some of his ribs, hurt his hip, dislocated his bad knee, bruised his wrists, scraped him all over, and he'll be a lucky man if that is all a hit from such speeds leaves him with.

Body hurting and unable to move, all Hiccup can do is groan. He can't get up like this. Who and why would just run him over like this? His head hurts, he must've knocked it on the ground.

After the hit, the car screeches to a halt and a man steps out. When he comes over, Hiccup can't see who it is, can barely turn his head to the approaching footsteps. When he tries, another pained groan leaves him. He can taste the metallic tang of blood on his tongue.

Everything is too much for his aching head, too much to process. He's on the verge of passing out, it's becoming black before his eyes.

The man who mowed him down stands over him. Hiccup can't see his face, but if he could, he'd see the satisfied look of another job well done. He's grabbed by his arms and pulled towards the car. Hiccup cringes at the unnecessary additional abuse his body must endure.

"W-wait... What're you... Why?" He can't struggle against him, can't keep the man from dragging him towards the car, it's taking him everything not to pass out.

When they reach the car, the trunk is opened and Hiccup is picked up and unceremoniously dropped inside. His body is in agony and he would've shouted if his ribs allowed it, but his apparent kidnapper doesn't seem to care much. If anything, he huffs and the trunk closes, bathing Hiccup in darkness.

What just happened to him? For whatever reason, whether it be the shock or the pain, he still can't move.

While this is happening, Toothless is, indeed, stuck. A fire escape isn't meant for dragons, let alone a dragon his size, nothing in a city is. This is a place for humans, which is why he thought to drag Hiccup back home himself. He wasn't coming of his own volition, so Toothless had to come and see what was taking him so long. But when he gets up to meet with his friend, he finds his tail to be stuck in the railing.

It's a hindrance and it's more annoying than a real problem. He can solve this without needing Hiccup's help, he just needs to be careful not to damage the replacement tailfin he so carefully crafted for him.

Murring impatiently as he tries to find the right angle to do this from, Astrid and Snotlout are watching him from the window, both concerned. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Astrid mouth something and she's gesturing in a way that's supposed to be helping him, but he doesn't quite get it. He's only half-looking, too.

On the other side of the building, Hiccup is calling for him and Toothless calls back once to tell him he's still coming. He just needs to be a little more patient and then he'll be there.

But then he hears a screeching that sounds like a noise one of those large metal contraptions the humans ride on would make. It's an awful sound to his ears, but not as alarming as the noise of a heavy thing hitting something not even a quarter of that thing's weight. And all of that is followed by a noise of pain Toothless is all too familiar with.

Was that Hiccup? Is someone hurting him?

Toothless knows that he needs to see what's happening and he all but tears himself free, the carefully refined leather hooking onto something metal sticking out and ripping. He hurries up the rest of the fire escape up on the roof, climbing the outside expertly like only a cat of his size and strength can, he'll be able to see more from there.

A disability has only affected his speed and agility so much, Hiccup can largely be thanked for that. As someone who is missing a leg, he knows a thing or two about loss. He reaches the roof quickly and he thinks to check the front of the building first, where the noises came from. What he sees confuses him, however.

There's a human male taking his friend and putting him in the back of that metal deathtrap.

His knowledge of humans and their strange behaviors only goes so far and he doesn't know what the intention here is, just that he doesn't like it. This screams "bad" to him and he growls in anger, claws scraping on the bricked walls. Someone is taking his rider away.

The male then gets into the "car", as they're called, and he can hear it revving to life. That's when Toothless knows it's now or never.

He's a Night Fury, leaping off tall things isn't anything new to him, so he takes a chance. He doesn't yet realize that his prosthetic tailfin is torn and that it will hinder him greatly in his pursuit. He wants to land on the vehicle itself, scare the driver, rip him out, and then get Hiccup out. His mate and that small friend of his are in their communal den. If he's loud enough, he can get them to come down and see. In the meantime, he can make sure the bigger male can't touch the car again and that he's too incapacitated to get away, too.

That's the plan, thought up in a matter of a second or two and he commits to it, he takes the leap. Except with a rip in his tailfin and the car moving away at the same time, all Toothless manages to do is scratch up the back and take the rear bumper right off.

Inside the trunk, Hiccup is almost startled to full alertness with his dragon's claws scraping above him and taking a part of the vehicle with him. There's a man's muffled cursing and what a mouth he has on him.

It takes Toothless a second too long to realize that he's holding just a piece of the car instead of the whole thing.

Did he just fail? A Night Fury isn't supposed to fail, if anything, they're supposed to be the pride of dragons! And he just failed his human?

He looks behind him, sees the tear in the cloth Hiccup made for him. He's lost his advantage and now he can't fly after the car either! He wished he'd jumped on time instead of too late, wished he'd thought to jump in front of it, too! If he'd just aimed right, he would've landed on the car instead of just snatching the rear bumper.

All that's left for him now is to chase. He's still plenty fast on the ground, he can leap, he'll find some other way to stop the damn thing. A plasma blast will land him in serious trouble, but that's not even high on the number of things he's willing to do to get Hiccup back.

They're not far, he can still see them.

But then another car comes from around the corner. They aren't driving particularly fast, but finding a dragon in your path is a startling thing and Toothless is startled in return. They almost block his path, nearly driving into the car parked nearby. Then a second comes and a third and they all screech to a halt, honking and yelling in surprise. They do nothing but hinder him in a city that's already too loud and unwelcoming and chaotic for a dragon.

Toothless has to evade them, doing whatever he can to just not get accidentally hit as he chases after his friend. He jumps onto a parked car, trying to spot the one that took Hiccup.

It's nowhere to be found.

Hiccup can hear it as he slips away, the miserable cries of a dragon in distress with cars honking in the distance, both deafeningly loud.

"I'm here, Bud, I'm... I'm here..." His words of reassurance fade as he falls unconscious, losing the fight to stay awake.

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Pain. That's what Hiccup wakes up to hours later. An immeasurable amount of pain and the inability to breathe properly as his ribs are keeping him from it.

He groans miserably, feeling awful after someone came speeding down a relatively calm street to run him over. His head is a little slow in catching up on the events that landed him in this situation, but his body has a great memory. He hurts so much, there isn't a part of him that isn't in agony.

There are voices and an unfamiliar hand lays itself on his forehead. Is he in the hospital? Is there are a doctor or a nurse checking up on him? Oh, can they please give him something for the pain? He woke up only moments ago and he wants so desperately for it to end.

"You wanted him, now here he is." One of the voices breaks through the haze in his mind, the first words he's managing to register so far. Why does his head pound? Why is everything pounding?

He remembers headlights.

"And you felt like you had to run him over, did you?" Run over who? Can either of these two give him something to kill the pain? Or an explanation would be nice, too.

He groans louder, hoping to ask for help, but no coherent words leave him. That hand is in his hair now. Care is nice and all, but it would be much nicer if they could pick up on what he's trying to beg for here.

"You could've killed him on the spot! He might even still succumb to his injuries." No wait, that voice is familiar to him. The other one he doesn't recognize, but this one rings a vague bell. Hiccup has to open his eyes and take a look.

"Don't get my hopes up."

There are two men that he can see through a blurred vision and a dim light that's still a nightmare on his headache. He can't recognize one of them.

The other one, however...

"V...Vi... ggo?" Hiccup asks, voice hoarse. It's the first word that he manages to croak out. What's he doing in the hospital with him? Now that he thinks of it, where is Astrid? Snotlout? He can't remember if Fishlegs and the twins were home.

An image of Toothless flashes before his mind. He was there, wasn't he? Where is he now?

"you're awake, good, I was starting to worry," Viggo tells him, looking down at him with a look that isn't quite as caring as those words would suggest.

Hiccup blinks slowly in surprise.

"Where... What are you doing here? Where am I? Toothless is... What happened?" The questions are slow to leave him, but he's starting to catch up a little. He's not quite as awake as he needs to be yet. Why is this room so dim? Aren't hospital lights usually so annoyingly bright?

He wants to sit up or readjust somehow, feeling too uncomfortable with everything his body is going through. But though he tries, he only ends up worsening the pain in his right side tremendously. Whatever little progress he may have made is undone when he's forced to lie down again. His left knee hurts, did he dislocate it again?

This bed is so uncomfortable and lumpy, is this mattress even from this century anymore?

But the pain wakes him up at least and he can grasp the sort of troubling situation he's suddenly in a little more now.

This isn't the hospital.

He doesn't know what room he's in, but he can see that the little light bulb on the ceiling is bare and the only light source in this place, that the walls are brick, and the floor is made of concrete. If it weren't for the lack of storage space, he'd think that this is a basement, but that couldn't be it, right? He can't just be in someone's basement! He notices there's a ridiculously tiny bathroom off to the side, which at least looks clean.

What Hiccup's lying on is, indeed, a bed and his painful wrists are cuffed to the sides. If he wants to pull at them, he can try once or twice, but after that, they won't allow any more attempts.

Realization comes and panic sets in.

He's been kidnapped.

"Wh-what... What?!" He can't comprehend it, his thoughts and heart racing and struggling to keep up. Hyperventilating and very quickly unable to breathe at all, the rapid pace cannot mix with his broken ribs.

Did Viggo do this to him? Why would he do something like this?! Why would he hit him with a car and take him from his home?!

"Hiccup, calm yourself!" Viggo takes his shoulders and, honestly, how can he expect Hiccup not to freak out when he's been kidnapped?!

Oh Gods, Astrid was right. She was right, Viggo was bad from the start. And he's the idiot who walked right into another trap. Why does he keep getting himself into trouble like this?

Oh no, and what of his Bud? He definitely remembers his dragon being there when he was taken, what happened to him? What could've possibly happened to him?

"No... No! T-Tooth... Tooth?!" He doesn't have the air to ask, his lungs and his ribs in a fierce battle for whose needs need to be met first. They both burn.

"Hiccup, I implore you to calm!" Despite Viggo's best attempts, Hiccup doesn't listen to him, too much in a panic. If this goes on, he'll lose him before he can even start molding him to his perfect partner.

"That's never going to work, Viggo. You know there's only one solution to this." The other man, the stranger, states as he pushes him aside. A soaked cloth is pressed to Hiccup's nose and mouth, the sedative wetting it is breathed in immediately with his fast breathing and it takes its hold just as fast.

A different kind of haze settles in his mind, he's feeling woozy. It works quicker than he can realize he's being knocked out. He's going under, his breathing evening out, and his last thoughts wonders about his friends.

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massivelycreepypineapple · 4 years

Text

A Wee Bit Of Domestic

Request: I hope everything is going okay for you, and you're staying safe during quarantine. I don't know if your requests are still open, but I would like to request the 11 Doctor x Reader. Just a bunch of fluff, they both have crushes on each other. And the reader gets hurt and the Doctor goes into full protective/helping mode. Then ends up admitting his feelings. Maybe even some cuddles and sweet kissing. A/N: Thank you @fandoms-ruined-my-life for this lovely request! I hope you enjoy it. I’m sorry if it sucks though. I also apologise it took a while, I had some trouble with my stupid laptop. Y/N’s POV

“No no no no! You’re not doing that. Bad human!” Said the Doctor and he walked into the kitchen and saw Y/N leaning on the counter trying to get something from the top shelf with a broken ankle. The last hunt was a real humdinger. Just when they thought they could, for once, end the day without getting hurt or someone (*Cough* the Doctor *cough*) accidentally insulting someone, both happened almost at the same time. The Doctor managed to insult an entire species and while escaping, Y/N, the clutz that she was, tripped and broke her ankle. Lucky for her, it was only an hairline fracture that can be fixed with bed rest and care. Unlucky for her, the Doctor went all mother hen. Which meant that she wasn’t allowed to do anything on her own. He even brought her back to her home and parked the Tardis in her backyard, much to her protest.

“Doctor, I’m hungry and frustrated and I just want to make myself a sandwich. Stop being so overprotective!” She said with a glare.

“Overprotective?! You have a broken ankle! You’re supposed to take rest!” He said picking her up and placing her on a chair by the dining table. He then proceeded to make her a sandwich while she sat there with a grumpy look on her face.

“I’m not an invalid, ya know.” She mumbled.

“Right, but you kinda are.”, He simply replied, only for her to roll her eyes at him.

Y/N watched him work around the kitchen thinking just how domestic this whole situation was. Sure it was hilarious watching the dork fumbling about trying not to break stuff, but Who would’ve thought that the Doctor, the big man child, would ever be found in a normal everyday kitchen, making a sandwich. The whole thing screamed dull. But it was something she wished she could have with the Doctor, and not just because she hurt herself. She’d been harbouring a huge crush on him for a while now and it was getting harder to not just grab his stupid face and snog him senseless, especially when he starts rambling about the next cool planet or something. But sadly, she stopped herself. He was the Doctor, what business did he have crushing on her like a schoolgirl when he’s the man who saves the day? Her thoughts were interrupted as he placed the plate in front of her.

“Now eat up and the next time you want something, ask me.” He said, sitting on the chair next to her.

“Thank you” Y/N smiled up at him.

“How bad is the pain?” He asked, watching her intently.

“Not bad, I’ll live”

“Y/N…”

“What?” She replied mouthful, “It’s a stupid hairline fracture, you said so yourself! I’m fine.”

There were times when they’d look at each other a little longer or fleeting touches would last longer than necessary and she’d wonder if he felt the same. They looked at each other and there was something in his eyes that she couldn’t put her hands on. But she shook herself before she got her hopes up and went back to eating. Once she finished, Y/N was about to stand up so she could put the plate in the sink, but the Doctor grabbed her arm instead.

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?” He asked

“Umm… putting my plate in the sink? Wash my hands? That’s what people do after they eat.”

“You’re supposed to let me take care of you, Y/N” He said taking her plate to the sink. “You humans are so fragile and yet so stubborn” He mumbled to himself.

“Hey! It wasn’t me who decided to insult the leader of the planet! Not my fault you don’t have a brain to mouth filter, Doctor” Y/N smirked at him.

“They had it coming! They - Where do you think you’re going?” He said wide eyed rushing to her so he could help support her.

Y/N groaned at him “You won’t let me do anything! I’m going to go sulk on my couch while watching TV!” She walked away looking to get her mind off the pain and her feelings for the Doctor.

The Doctor’s POV

The Doctor just stared after her. He knew it was only a small fracture, but it could’ve just as easily been worse. And it was his fault that she was in this mess in the first place. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about her that made him want to protect her no matter what. He hated that she was in pain of any kind. He wanted to show her the whole universe. He knew she was special. Believe it or not, spending time taking care of Y/N had been the best time he’s had in a long time. She was funny, she kept him on his toes, she rivalled his thirst for adventure, and the best part? She loves fish fingers and custard. It then hit him, he had to tell her how he felt. He didn’t want to waste more time. So he went back to the Tardis to figure out a way to tell her. He wanted it to be special.

He didn’t realise how long he spent in the Tardis. He suddenly remembered that he had left Y/N alone for too long. So he rushed back into the house and he that’s when he heard a scream that nearly stopped both his hearts. He ran towards her bedroom to see her on the ground, tears welling in her eyes.

“Y/N! What happened?!” He said, extremely worried. He picked her up and put her on the bed.

“I slipped! I went to the toilet, I didn’t notice the wet floor and slipped. Doctor! It hurts!” She cried.

“Shh love, you need to breathe ok? Can you do that for me?” He whispered to her as he checked her ankle.

Y/N took deep breaths trying to calm herself down. “Doctor…” She whimpered.

“It’s okay. You just jostled it when you fell. The swelling is worse but you’ll be fine otherwise.” He said looking at her with worried, but soft eyes.

“Can you please stay with me and watch TV?” She asked hesitantly.

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You let me take care of you now.”

“Deal.” Y/N replied smiling at him.

He picked her up once more and took her to the couch. He brought her some painkillers and a blanket and settled in next to her. Y/N shifted until she was close to the Doctor, resting her head on his shoulders while her feet rested on the coffee table in front of them. He blushed a little at this new position and hesitantly wrapped his arm around her shoulder. But quickly got comfortable.

The Doctor kept making snide comments at the TV, making Y/N giggle at him. She turned her head to look up at him and at the same time he looked at her. Their faces were so close they could feel each other’s breath. Y/N closed the gap between them and kissed him on the lip. The doctor froze for a second before kissing back and they both broke apart for air.

“We just kissed” He whispered staring into her eyes.

“Way to state the obvious.” Y/N giggled

The Doctor kissed her harder again, taking her breath away. When they pulled apart once more he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I’ve liked you for a while now, Doctor. I didn’t think you’d ever like me back”

The doctor cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her forehead before saying, “Oh L/N, I’ve been driving myself crazy for the past couple hours on how to tell you I like you.”

Y/N smiled at him and kissed him once more. “Thank you for taking care of me”

“Anything for you, Y/N “

That’s how they spent the rest of her recovery. Watching crap television, making out and loads of cuddling. And for once the Doctor was willing to put aside adventure for a wee bit of domestic. Anything for Y/N.

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #fluff #reader insert #female reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor x reader #eleventh doctor imagine #doctor x you #y/n #11th doctor x you #doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #eleventh doctor fanfic

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fmdtaeyong · 3 years

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like a rockstar : taeyong marketing breakdown

a headcanon & playlist on how titan’s taeyong is marketed as a product and brand.

headcanon

word count: 491 words, not counting the tvtropes quote.

a successful celebrity can’t exist without marketing. some celebrities are all marketing. ash, for one, wouldn’t be where he is today without bc entertainment’s well-oiled marketing machine painting him in a desirable light and smoothing out his rough edges into something shiny.

the image the name taeyong provokes now isn’t quite the one it would have provoked a few years ago. the role of maknae burdened ash’s image for years. a sense of brightness is expected of any idol, but the youngest of a group is expected to show it, even in a group like titan that has never been about bright concepts. whether that means being babied by the older members or having a certain underlying innocence to him.

when he went solo was when his image gravitated further away from being dictated by his place within a group. as he earned recognition for his own name (or rather, his own stage name) and got attention from a new crowd, he was able to pave a path that painted with the brush of an artist, a little less bound by preconceived notions about his role in titan. when the scandals stamped to his name went from fumbling over formalities and dating a well-loved actress to controversies less easily painted as endearing that came at the same time he began to present himself differently visually, bc had to bank on the leeway of an artist tinge to his image saving him.

ash has never been marketed as an ideal boyfriend. titan has that covered in the group already and an outed relationship before he’d begun to make a name for himself individually prevented that from being a rational path. some fans still fall into the trap of babying him, but overall, taeyong is now known as the more serious and reserved type. satisfactory fanservice is a non-starter, so they make their own fantasies out of his mystery and “edginess” and a brooding stage persona. bc has done damage control where they’ve had to and let his music and fan projections paint the rest.

out of all of the classic boy band member tropes, ash would solidly be considered a purveyor of the bad boy / rebel trope within titan and out of it for that matter. to quote tvtropes:

“the one with a rougher edge to him. he's the one wearing the black shirt and jeans or leather jacket in those videos where they're not all wearing matching clothes. if he's really edgy, he may also have a tattoo. put in to cater to those girls who want bad boys.”

bc read the first two paragraphs of the tv tropes page for all girls want bad boys and said ‘yeah, this should work’. the bad boy / rebel angle tends to get played up within fandom a lot more than among more casual listeners to his music, who get a heavier dose of the ~artist~ part of his image since that’s meant to appeal to them more anyway.

ash has very purposefully been trying to lean more into the artist aspect of his image lately because he isn’t a fan of being painted as some kind of bad boy fantasy when he doesn’t consider that an accurate representation of him at all.

playlist

this playlist gives a semi-chronological cataloging of the image associated with taeyong since around 2016/2017. some parts of his image have remained consistent, while others have changed either by purposeful marketing, unavoidable consequences of media discussion around him, or simply altered fan narratives for him. some parts of this are less about how he’s marketed and more about very one-dimensional fan narratives crafted around him, but overall it gives an idea of the feeling associated with him as a product and brand. (some of these songs were used in image playlists on ash’s previous blog, but i made sure at least seven of these are new. i wanted to include ones i’d used before as well for a comprehensive look on his new blog since some aspects of his image have changed.)

this honestly also doubles as a list of the songs you’d find the most results for if you looked up taeyong fan edits.

i. death of a bachelor | i’m cutting my mind off, feels like my heart is going to burst / alone at a table for two, and i just wanna be served / and when you think of me, am i the best you've ever had?

ii. daydreamer | a jaw dropper / looks good when he walks / is the subject of their talk / he would be hard to chase / but good to catch / and he could change the world / with his hands behind his back, oh

iii. wildest dreams | he's so tall and handsome as hell / he's so bad, but he does it so well / i can see the end as it begins

iv. style | cause you got that james dean daydream look in your eye / and i got that red lip classic thing that you like / and when we go crashing down, we come back every time / cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style / you got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt / and i got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt

v. crazy beautiful | and he picks you up / and he sets you down / and that's the way / he thinks and he walks and he plays around downtown / but the truth is, he's still got a scar / as plain as others / to get his way to a scarlet heart

vi. ready for it...? | knew he was a killer first time that I saw him / wondered how many girls he had loved and left haunted / [...] / some boys are tryin' too hard, he don't try at all though / younger than my exes, but he act like such a man, so

vii. radio | now my life is sweet like cinnamon / like a fuckin' dream i'm livin' in / baby, love me 'cause i'm playing on the radio / how do you like me now?

viii. like i would | he, won't touch you like i do / he, won't love you like i would / he don't know your body / he don't do you right / he won't love you like i would / love you like i would, like i would

ix. i wanna be yours | secrets i have held in my heart / are harder to hide than i thought / maybe i just wanna be yours / i wanna be yours

x. strange love | they think i'm insane, they think my lover is strange / but i don't have to fucking tell them anything, anything / and i'm gonna write it all down, and i'm gonna sing it on stage / but i don't have to fucking tell you anything, anything

xi. my oh my | yeah, a little bit older, a black leather jacket / a bad reputation, insatiable habits / he was onto me, one look and i couldn't breathe, yeah / i said, if he kissed me, i might let it happen

xii. bad reputation | i don't give a damn 'bout my reputation / never been afraid of any deviation / and i don't really care if you think i'm strange / i ain't gonna change

xiii. starboy | i'm tryna put you in the worst mood, ah / p1 cleaner than your church shoes, ah / milli point two just to hurt you, ah / all red lamb' just to tease you, ah / none of these toys on lease too, ah / made your whole year in a week too, yah / main bitch out of your league too, ah / side bitch out of your league too, ah / [...] / look what you’ve done / i’m a motherfuckin' starboy

xiv. into it | i'm just fucking lucky i was born with it / a hundred million people couldn't deal with this

xv. like a rockstar | put me in designer then put me in the dirt / keep my legacy alive like a rockstar / lifestyle, on the edge, can be unforgiving / see i worship the dead, they worship the living, yeah

#* | character development.#* | queued.

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

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Well This is Strange and Unexpected [Toshinori x Reader] [Part 1 of ?]

Part 2 ->

I tried to resist completely weebing out over My Hero Academia, but Toshinori’s siren call pulled me in. It’s weird writing for a fandom with more than 5 people in it, but oh well… I AM HERE!

Summary: Female reader with a healing-ish quirk rescues a sickly stranger, and impulsively asks him out. Toshi is touched that someone would be attracted to him in his weak form, but weirder still… you don’t like All Might?!

3,990 words | SFW

A couple of guys were harassing him. One of them had him by the cuff of his shirt (which hung loosely on him, accentuating his shriveled size), snapping shark-like teeth, while the other one stood back and threateningly produced sparks from his fingertips. This wasn’t what you expected when you walked into the corner store, but not really surprising—this isn’t the best neighborhood.

They didn’t seem like real villains, at least. They were being careful not to actually use their quirks to do anything beyond intimidate, or else heroes might get involved.

Just assholes bullying an easy target.

The guy they were picking on didn’t seem too worried either, despite being the most fragile-looking man you’ve ever seen. Gaunt cheeks and deeply sunken eyes—everything about him, in fact, giving the impression of a zombie—with a mop of blond hair that was just as oversized as his clothes. He looked more annoyed at his current situation than anything, glancing over his shoulder and scowling like he’d left the oven on at home.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attitude.

Shark-face and sparky weren’t as charmed. “Hey! Are we boring you, grandpa? Learn a little respect!” They shove him forward and back between each other until he doubles over in pain, wheezing and coughing blood. That can’t be from anything they did. Come to think of it, they’re in the medicine aisle. Wow, they decided to pick on a sick guy. They push him to the floor while he’s still hacking and convulsing, struggling to breathe. Your fists clench at your sides.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” the zombie growls, wiping the blood from his lips like a boxer who just took a punch and is ready to deal it back. Except they barely had to touch him. He could be in trouble if this turns into a serious fight.

His ice-colored eyes dart around the room, looking for something, anything he can turn to his advantage, like a desperate, wounded animal. A news report of some big drawn-out fight with All Might earlier today plays on a TV above the register. The cashier doesn’t look up. Other customers are in the store, but nobody is paying any attention—nobody wants to get involved.

You don’t want to get involved either, but…

The shark-tooth guy lands a kick to his ribs, shooting more blood out of the thin man’s mouth, while his accomplice cackles wildly. “That’ll wipe that smug look off your face!” He goes in to kick him again—

“STOP IT!” you shout, rushing forward to insert yourself between the bleeding man on the floor and his assailants. Adrenaline pulses in your veins. Your muscles shake. Thanks to your quirk, you’re not too scared of getting hurt, but you have no idea how to fight, or what to do next.

“What’s this?” the shark menaces, with a harsh laugh. “You his little girlfriend or something?”

Your cheeks flame, but before you can deny it, you think—they probably think a guy like that couldn’t get a girlfriend. They’re already bullying him for being weak. So you announce defiantly, “Yeah, maybe I am!”

“Really? This loser?” His jaw drops.

“All the more reason to break his face in,” the fire-starter snarls. “Then you can date a real man.” He steps in to your space, uncomfortably close, and runs his tongue over his lip. Your skin crawls. Ugh, why did I go and provoke him?

“M-miss, please don’t get involved.” Shaking, the pale blond struggles to his feet behind you. “It’s fine—” The other criminal shuts him up with a hand around his throat. His cold eyes narrow fiercely at the assailant, but his struggling does nothing to loosen his grip.

“Sure, I’ll go out with a real man. Know any?” you spit.

“Bitch!” he growls, and winds up to strike you, his fist suddenly engulfed in flame. Smoke (or is it steam?) begins to fill the room.

You drop to the floor before he ever touches you.

Then you start screaming.

“AAAHHHH, HELP!!!! WAAAHHH!” you cry in your most pathetic, high-pitched wail. “NOOOO, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!! HELP!!! POLICE! POLICE!!!”

The blond guy has stopped kicking against his attacker’s grip, and the attacker has lost his zest for choking. They’re both just staring at you. So is everyone else in the store. Other customers are peeking over the tops of the aisles, or rushing over to help. Somebody asks, “Are they beating up a girl?”

“AAIIIIEEE!!! OW, OUCH!” you sob, clutching the imaginary wound on the side of your face.

The two troublemakers glance at each other. Then at the growing audience.

They drop the stranger and run.

Everyone is a little surprised when you’re suddenly all better, but they turn and go back to their shopping. “That was disgraceful,” says a stern voice above you. His ego was clearly hurt being rescued that way, but his eyes are warm as he offers you his hand and helps you up.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a cheeky grin, brushing off your clothes.

“You didn’t have to get involved, you know. What was your plan if they didn’t run away? That was a risky gamble.”

“Nah. I know their type. They were counting on not drawing too much attention, that’s why they were going after a weak target… uh…”

The guy is pouting with a tragic look on his face. “Weak,” he repeats in a long, extended squeak. His shoulders fall, “It’s true.”

“Are you alright, anyway?”

“Me?” he perks up, giving a big smile to show he’s OK, and pointing a thumb at himself. “Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine. Thank you for hel—”

Blood gushes from his mouth, and he falls to the floor, unconscious.

****

Dammit, why’d I have to get jumped when I’m already way past my limit? I hate this weak body. Pathetic. I can’t protect anyone. Not even myself.

Everything is dark. Everything is quiet except for the steady pulse of his heart. Then he hears your voice, distant and small, calling to him. Slowly, the voice gets closer. The darkness fades. Yagi Toshinori feels himself coming back to life.

As his eyes open and his vision clears, he sees you, hovering over him. His lungs aren’t filled with blood anymore. In fact, he hasn’t felt this good since the last time Recovery Girl healed him. He looks up at you smiling back at him.

“Thank goodness,” you whisper. You cough, and blood runs down your chin.

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

“I don’t have a healing quirk. Not really,” you explain, wiping blood from your face. “I can’t make injuries go away, but I can transfer them between people. The neat part is, it isn’t all-or-nothing: I can absorb, say, 10 percent of a wound, and share the burden so we can both recover. But if I wanted to heal somebody all the way, I’d end up just as hurt. So, my quirk is honestly pretty useless.”

“That doesn’t sound useless at all. You helped me, didn’t you?” The stranger’s bright eyes are piercingly kind as they gaze up at you from their dark sockets. Even on the floor of the medicine aisle of a convenience store, with drying blood speckling his white shirt, he has an inspiring aura that makes you want to believe his compliments instead of brush them off.

“How are you feeling? I couldn’t heal you anywhere near all the way. Your body is… pretty messed up. UHHHH, sorry for using my quirk on you without permission! I… kind of know some private medical information about you now. Sorry.”

With great strain, he sits up on his elbows, and struggles to get to his feet, but is caught off balance by a fresh fit of coughing, and slumps back down. You offer him a hand. As soon as you’ve pulled him up, you are wracked by a bloody cough, and he quickly grabs your shoulder to keep you from stumbling.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice, lanky bangs falling in front of his face. “You’re suffering now because of me.”

“It’s nothing, really. I only took a little; you’re the one who’s been suffering. Can I help you get home? Do you have anywhere close you can rest?”

He shakes his head. “You’ve already done too much for me, don’t worry. I’ll get a taxi.”

“In your condition?! No way. Why don’t you come home with me—my apartment is right across the street.” Your pulse starts racing. Did you just ask a stranger home? “Just to rest for awhile! Until you’re sure you won’t black out in the back seat of a cab.”

His razor-sharp cheeks flush with a tinge of pink. “That’s very kind, but… Really, this is normal for me.” He gives a carefree grin which is actually extremely tense.

“Then…” you ball your fists in determination, “will you go on a date with me?”

He stops cold. All he manages to make is a short, nonsensical string of vowels. You’re in shock at yourself, too. Your heart is pounding like crazy, but you’ve already gone this far.

“I mean, you said I’ve done too much for you, right? So, you can pay me back with a date!”

“Wha—” His entire face turns bright scarlet and his nonexistent eyebrows fly off his forehead. “Wha… but… uhhh. I. Um. What kind of date? (Is it really OK to ask for that kind of payment??)”

“I’ve got the latest Space Adventure movie and a bowl of microwave popcorn back at my apartment. I was going to watch it alone, but it would be more fun with company.”

His brow tents upward, and he gives a defeated whine, “You’re kind of devious, you know, miss!”

“What do you think about curry for dinner?”

His mop of hair falls over his face, and his shoulders begin to jerk. You can hear him laughing beneath it. Finally, he tosses his head back smiling—as his twin bangs fly upward, for a moment it reminds you of a certain hero. “OK, OK, I surrender!” he puts his hands up. “I’m clearly outmatched here. I’m Toshinori, by the way.”

****

After checking out of the store, you slowly limp your way home, practically carrying each other down the block. You offer him your arm for support. He insists on supporting you instead. You counter-insist. In the end, you wind up leaning against each other like a pair of drunks staggering home from the bar.

“So, you said you can ‘transfer injuries between people,’ not that you can transfer them to yourself. Does that mean you can transfer them back?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then you should give it back to me right away!” he clenches his fist, and announces it with so much passion that passers-by stop to see if someone is being robbed. He softens his voice to a low rumble, and leans closer. “You shouldn’t be hurt on my account.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’d pass out again. You’re pretty thin but I still don’t wanna carry you.”

He mopes silently for a moment. You had him there. He bounces back from the sulk with academic curiosity. “Can you use your ability to transfer injuries to a third party, as an attack?”

“Yes, but…” You drop your gaze to the sidewalk. “I don’t ever want to use it that way.”

“Why not? It sounds like it would be a strong power for a hero.” Imagine how useful a quirk like that would be to pair with young Midoriya, healing him when he uses One For All at full strength, and simultaneously dealing out more damage to the bad guys.

“Are you kidding? Sucking wounds out of allies to use against an enemy? Their bones spontaneously snapping and shattering with a single touch? Their organs failing from an attack that never even hit them? Deciding who lives and who dies? It’s horrific.”

“Battle is always horrific, no matter how it’s done. But I understand what you mean.” He smiles. “It’s good that you don’t want to hurt people.”

“Besides, it only works through touch; I’d have a hard time grabbing onto a villain with my body broken.”

“That’s not the only way you could use it. If you honed your reflexes, you could reflect back the damage from a punch instantly. It would be like your opponent was punching themselves!” He excitedly throws a jab at the air with his free hand. “I’ve never heard of anyone with a quirk like that. You’re pretty special,” he adds with a smile.

A warmth blossoms in your chest. You’ve never been proud of your weird quirk, but the way he talked about it made you feel like maybe it was special. You never even thought about using it that way, and he came up with it in thirty seconds!

“Yeah, we could call you Mirror Girl, or Stop-Hitting-Yourself.”

“Well, I’m a little old to go after a hero license now, and naming things is clearly not your forte,” you stick out your tongue. “But thank you. What about you? Quirkless, right?”

“Something like that,” he answers nervously.

****

Your apartment is a small-but-cozy, slightly messy space at the top of a flight of stairs you would have described as “short” before having blood in your lungs. As soon as the door is open, Toshinori spots the couch and gratefully slumps onto it without hesitation, letting out a long sigh of relief. Remembering manners, he turns to you.

“Thank you… for everything, really. It was embarrassing to have to be rescued like that, but you were very brave, helping me even though you didn’t have to. You even thought of a way to get me to stop being so stubborn,” he laughs. “You were joking about the date, right? I promise I’ll take it easy and rest, you don’t have to pretend to be interested.”

Your skin grows hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything your face is doing. On the walk over you’d gotten comfortable leaning on him, and kind of forgot you asked out a random guy you just met like some kind of psycho! But…

“I wasn’t kidding. Unless you don’t want to—I mean—not to pressure you, th-that is… I was kidding about the ‘you owe me’ part! I was just trying to get you to not run off on your own in this condition.” Maybe you can just dig a hole in your living room floor and hide in it? “But… I would like to go on a date with you.”

He’s completely taken aback. “You really want to go out with someone like me? Who can’t even protect himself?”

“Sure. You’re kinda my type, actually.”

“Are you serious?!”

You laugh a little at how shocked he’s acting. “Come on, it’s like you’ve never been asked out before.”

“Not like this I haven’t!” He blurts, then claps a hand over his mouth like he spilled a secret.

“Like… this?”

He grumbles and drops his shoulders. “You must have sensed it when you were using your quirk on me anyway, so there’s no point hiding it. I wasn’t always this weak.” He pulls up his shirt and reveals a grizzly web of scars and inflamed tissue taking up half of his left side. “An accident damaged a lot of my organs and completely destroyed my stomach. I’m barely patched together with everything medicine and healing quirks can do. There was a time those guys wouldn’t have been a problem for me.”

“Oh, wow.” Without thinking, you’re beside him on the couch, and your hands are on his mangled flesh, studying it with fascination. He draws in a sharp breath between his teeth.

You quickly take your hands off him. “Does it hurt?”

“N-no, just…” His eyes dart away.

Gasping, your hands fly to your mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! That was completely inappropriate, I should have asked! You must think I’m some kind of—I’m so sorry!”

“It’s OK, you just surprised me. You can go ahead, if you really want to…”

You bite your lip. Having to consciously decide to touch his bare skin makes it so much more embarrassing. It’s way too forward, right? Then again, you both agreed it was a date…

Slowly, you examine his wounds with your fingertips. You could tell something was off about his internal organs when you were hunting for damage to absorb from him, but this is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Ridges of scars and sutures extend from his chest to his lower abdomen, and unlike an old wound that has properly healed, the tangled flesh is red and angry. There are a few fresh bruises blooming on his ribs from the kicks he took, which you have a matching set of, and some other recent injuries of mysterious origin. The most surprising thing is how muscular he is, considering his emaciated frame. He probably could have taken those guys in a fight, if not for the internal bleeding.

His breathing becomes rapid and shallow as you explore his body. Goosebumps raise on his skin everywhere that isn’t scar tissue. He swallows, hard.

“Aren’t you disgusted? I don’t usually show this off on the first date.”

“Not at all. I think it’s cool! Ah, I mean—ugh—sorry. It must be really painful for you, of course it’s not ‘cool,’ I just mean…” You hide your face in your hand with a groan. “I’m really messing this up, aren’t I?”

He chuckles softly at you. “I’m just glad you’re not freaked out. Most people react… differently.”

“Heh, well, honestly…” you peek out from between your fingers. “Frankenstein is my favorite book, so this look is actually really appealing.”

“Are you comparing me to the monster? That’s not a compliment!” he scolds theatrically, with a playful light in his eyes—before blood erupts from his mouth.

“Sorryyyyy!!!!” you laugh—before blood erupts from your mouth.

Tentatively, he reaches out, and rubs your back as you recover from coughing. His face was built to frown, and the deflated expression of regret etched deep into its sharp lines effortlessly slips back into place over the brief moment of levity.

“Did you absorb my respiratory damage? Those injuries are permanent, they’ll never heal— you have to give them back, right now.”

“Stop worrying so much. Chronic injuries are different; I’m not even sure if I can transfer them. Pretty sure it’s just inflammation that got aggravated from exerting yourself.”

His frown deepens. “You should still give it back.”

“I told you, don’t worry. It’s already feeling better. Anyway, if I did that, I’d be hurting you, and you know it’s illegal to hurt another person with a quirk.”

“…in that case, it was illegal to use your quirk in public in the first place…” he grumbles.

Quickly changing the subject, you point at the TV. “About that movie!”

****

Because of his total gastrectomy, Toshinori can’t eat anything too sweet, spicy, fibrous, or fatty, among a host of other things to avoid. Moreover, he can’t eat very much at once, so he has to be snacking constantly through the day.

Luckily, popcorn fits the bill, so you both sit on the couch with a big bowl of it between you, while laser weapons flash through space on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, he yawns sleepily, stretching his lanky arms over his head. As they come down, one of them lands awkwardly on the back of couch just behind your shoulder. Your head swivels. Your mouth hangs open. You stare at him, aghast.

“DID YOU JUST DO THE YAWN TRICK?”

“Uhh…” He stares stiffly forward at the TV screen, arm discreetly inching back up from whence it came.

“Seriously, this is a date. If you wanna cuddle, just go for it.” You move the popcorn bowl to the side, and snuggle into him under the offending arm. It is the world’s tensest cuddle, as you both question whether this is way too fast. But soon he relaxes, lowering his arm around you.

By the time the end credits roll, he’s laying with his head in your lap, half asleep, while you stroke his messy hair. “C-captain Wan…” you sniffle, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. Toshinori stirs.

“I don’t get it. What were those snake things about?”

“What?! Haven’t you seen any of the Star Adventure series?”

“It’s a series?”

You sit, sputtering, opening and closing your mouth again. He sits up as you explain that this is the latest movie in a really famous franchise that has been out for decades, spanning television and the big screen—you thought he knew that!

“Ohh. I’m not really into nerd stuff.”

Before you can vibrate into an antimatter weapon and explode with enough force to tear open the space-time continuum, he laughs “kidding, kidding!” and tells you he still had fun. Charming bastard. Good thing he’s cute.

Next time, you promise to show him the first movie. Or make it up to him with something he’s more interested in. And you’ll be sure to have more snack options on hand!

“Next time, huh?”

What does he mean by that? He was smiling but his eyes looked kinda stern, like he was teasing? It means he’s looking forward to it, right? Or is he saying it’s absurd? You did totally shanghai him into this and he didn’t even like the movie. “That is,” you start sweating nervously, “If you wanted a second date.”

He stares into the distance, squinting in thought. Not immediately reassuring.

“I should warn you, most days I don’t have any free time,” he says in a low, serious voice. “Today I got so far past my limit, I had no choice but to rest awhile… but I wouldn’t be able to see you very often. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Slow down there, Yugioh! I’m asking for a second date, not your hand in marriage,” you quip, flicking one of his floppy bangs. Your shoulders fall. “Oh. Wait. Unless you’re just being polite. You can be straight with me, I don’t pick up on hints very well.”

“No, I meant it!” He takes your hand and draws it close, interlacing his bony fingers with yours. You think he’s about to kiss it, but he just holds it to his chest like a precious possession. “This has been interesting. To know someone could still want me like this…” He rubs circles over the back of your hand with his thumb. The sensation sends shivers radiating through your arm, making your heart flutter and ache for more. “I just don’t want to make promises to you I can’t keep. My schedule doesn’t leave much downtime, but… the hospital is in this neighborhood, so I could visit you whenever I’m nearby. It isn’t as much as you deserve, but…”

“Second date. Not marriage. I just want to see you again sometime, and keep getting to know you.”

Maybe it’s just that you love his angular, skeletal figure, and his grim but friendly eyes. Maybe you just love taking care of wounded birds. But maybe it’s something deeper. There’s a fire within him that draws you in, and you just want to see where this goes.

A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE!

The moment is abruptly interrupted as Toshinori drops your hand to hastily pull out his phone, and fumbles to silence the ring. He’s so mortified he spits blood.

“Is that All Might’s voice?” you ask, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What? No, it’s just a novelty ringtone!”

“That is totally All Might! Oh my god, you’re…”—he winces—“a fanboy!”

He lets out a held breath, visibly relieved, then laughs boisterously. “You caught me, I love that pillar of justice!”

“Ugh, no!” you groan, head sinking into your hands. “I can’t believe you’re into that obnoxious meathead!”

“Haha… Wait, what?”

#Toshinori Yagi #toshinori x reader #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero x reader #all might x reader #my writing #yes I find a way to bring frankenstein into it

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