#since it was spring i was like 'oh its gonna be warm' and only packed tennis shoes and chanclas and no jacket | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kattramen · 1 year

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BEFORE READING, KNOW THIS IS FIC IS DISCONTINUED.

I started working on this WIP for valentines day, but, if you hadn't seen- valentines day was almost a month ago. I might pick this back up next year, but I dunno yet. It's a little messy, but it would just rot away with the rest of my wips if i didn't post this. Anyway, please enjoy what I do have! :^>

Thank you @here-2suffer for giving me the inspiration to write as much as I did. Sorry I didn't end up finishing before writers block swallowed me whole.

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February is that weird transitional month between the harsh winter weather and the wet and warm spring. Not quite cold enough to warrant your heavy winter coat but not warm enough to ditch the hoodie. The chilly morning air fills your lungs with a new vitality, a new day, a new week. Let's hope this one is more promising than the last, working in the pizzaplex is beginning to weigh heavily on your shoulders. So many faces to remember, so many noises, so many messes…

You sigh, punching your employee ID number into a kiosk to clock on.. glancing over the schedule plastered on the corkboard nearby you search endlessly through the list of faceless employees that keep the glorified mall running like clockwork. One of the downsides of being a float in the Plex is you never quite know where you're going to end up for the week.

"Let's see, Betsy, Romello, Sara, Leo, Pete, Macky, Jillian, Robert, Mike, Vlad, Ah! Y/N, there we go." You trace your finger down the paper, stopping when you reach your name.

"Now where did they stick me- Oh!" A soft smile creeps across your face, "Daycare huh? It looks like it's gonna be a good week after all." You walk towards your locker, taking a simple black hairband from your wrist you tie your formally loose hair up into a pony, taking the time to slip your fazco branded cap into place. Brushing off the invisible dust on your uniform you look towards a mirror to straighten yourself out, taking the time to readjust your fringe and checking the cleanliness of your teeth. You could probably use a mint.. maybe some gum.. a quick pat of your pockets serves as a gentle reminder that you haven't been to the convenience store yet this week. Oh well, gum has been banned from the daycare ever since the bubble-blowing incident anyway. It took months before Sun stopped smelling like Hubba bubba.

You chuckle fondly at the memory, shaking your head as you recall how long it took the daycare attendant to pick the rubbery pink substance from each crater in his faceplate. Sparing a quick glance at the clock you decide you've spent far too long stalling in the locker room. You turn, heading off through the endless underground tunnels toward the daycare.

As the mechanical door rises and you step out onto the ground level, the heavy bustle of service bots zipping around the building and settling everything into its rightful place reaches your ears. You can also hear the faint chiming of the arcade on the floor above you, more than grateful you wouldn't be on ticket desk duty this week. Some of those kids are ruthless, and the adults aren't much better.. sure Mr. Hippo isn't the most popular animatronic from the franchise, but that surely doesn't warrant hurling those heavy-ass magnets at poor unsuspecting service workers' heads.

As you approach the large wooden double doors, something becomes blatantly obvious... Neatly cut pink paper heart chains are hung carefully above the door. A peek at the exterior of the rest of the daycare reveals these aren't the only ones... Suddenly the reason for your 'peaceful' work week becomes all too clear. It's Valentine's week....fantastic. You contemplate turning back and locking yourself in one of the charging booths, but decide against it to save yourself from possible radiation poisoning.

Holidays in the daycare are always unbelievably hectic. Not only are the kids bouncing off the walls, but there's also a million and one things Sun likes to jam-pack into the week. The history of the holiday, crafts, sweets, face painting, themed games, stories, movies, and a dozen other activities he somehow manages to come up with. You're not sure if you wanna know just how long he plans these things out. But he's always so excited to enact said plans, and watching him find genuine enjoyment in his craft makes the next few weeks of pocket glitter worth the trouble.

You grab hold of the door, trying to prepare yourself for the mess of red, pink, and white covering every inch of the daycare. The door opens with an agonizingly slow creak, you make a mental note to tell maintenance that the hinges need to be greased. What lies beyond the doorway exceeds your expectations, they outdid themselves this year.. paper hearts of several varieties and baby angels are strung up all around the daycare, chains similar to those on the exterior also stretch along the interior walls, bunches of paper bouquets adorn the crafting tables along with what seems to be all the materials to make cards, the security desk has been covered in pink paper and decorated with a billion tiny hand drawn hearts, and heart balloons of varying colors are scattered about the floor.

In the center of it all, dressed in bright red overalls, a frilly white button-up, pair of angel wings, a halo, and what seems to be a bow and arrows. Is a rather ecstatic-looking Sun, he aims at you, sending an arrow hurtling at your head. It makes contact before you can even react. Too stunned to speak, you glance up at your forehead at what looks to be the aforementioned arrow suctioned in place.

"Haha!! I got you Sunbeam!! You've been shot by cupid! Looks like sooooomeone's fated to find love today!" Sun cheers as he jogs over, plucking the arrow from your forehead and tossing it back into his sling.

You stare blankly at him, still trying to process what just occurred. "I'm gonna what?"

"Find love! them's the rules after all!" He shakes an arrow at you, grinning cheekily as he taps his chin in thought. "Noooow, just who to set you up with.. hm… can't be any of the kids.. can't be second staff.. They have a boyfriend don't you know!" He strikes his palm, raising a finger up when the answer comes to him. "Ah-ha! That just leaves two eligible bachelors!!"

You quirk a brow, “And just who might those gentlemen be?” Your voice holds a certain level of perspicacity, an incredulous look plastered across your features. Sun’s grin only seems to widen, he leans against the security desk, arms folded.

“Well I can tell you now, they’re swell guys! Very sweet, charming, some might even call them handsome.” He nods as he speaks, “Very crafty too, you wouldn’t believe what they can do with some scrap paper and a glue stick! Being resourceful is an extremely desirable trait, especially in this day and age! That recession is quickly approaching after all!” He turns, beginning to pace in a circle as he babbles, hands animating each sentence. “There is a bit of a catch.. It’s a two-in-one package, can’t have one without the other, buuuut that just means double the hugs, and you simply can’t beat a deal like that!” he quits his pacing, stopping to gauge your expression, despite the friendly face his anxiety seeps through the cracks of his carefully crafted confidence. Fidgeting with his clothes, thrumming his fingers, refusing to look at you longer than a few seconds at a time, the intensified whirring of fans attempting to regulate internal temperatures. He’s nervous, thats apparent.

“Oh really? They sound like really great guys, but I sorta already had a valentine or two in mind. So you’ll have to let them down gently for me Sunny, I really didn’t take you for the matchmaker type. Do you set employees up regularly?” If he was going to be roundabout in asking, you were 100% going to play into it, and tease him a bit. It’s only fair, they take every opportunity to mess with you, might as well give them a taste of their own trickster ways.

Sun visibly deflates, rays despite their inflexibility almost seem to sag. You can’t help but compare him to a withering flower, his grin twitches ever so slightly. “I.. I see.. Seems like you get out more than we thought Starlight! We didn’t even think you left the house for anything other than work, never would have imagined our little Star would be so.. Popular! Popular! Popular! Ha..” He slips effortlessly back into his role, pushing away any lingering anxiety and melancholy, sweeping the emotions under the rug to be addressed at a much later time, until eventually the pressure causes a fuse to go out, or a gasket to be blown. Even so, his voice holds a certain tightness, and his movements come across as choppier and tenser than normal. “We don't normally take too much interest in coworkers' love lives! But seeing as it’s the season, and how bright and special our Star is to us, we thought you might need a little help celebrating this year! That's all!” he lets out a small disconcerting laugh before growing quiet and stagnant, you’ve come to realize that in these moments of silence is when he and Moon converse freely.

Which makes him an easy target.

You wave a hand in front of his face, testing his awareness, when you’re still met with clouded eyes and a dazed expression you turn to the desk. Grabbing a washable marker and popping the cap off, you once again approach Sun weapon in hand. You only have a few more seconds to work, so you simply choose to write an 8-letter word across the expanse of what would be considered his forehead “Gullible”. Snickering, you step back from the bot, admiring your work. The idea is to drop as many hints as humanly possible, after all, you would be asking them to be your valentines before your shift ends, might as well have a bit of fun with the build-up.

When Sun fronts he straightens, a new emotion hidden behind half-lidded eyes, envy. Whatever he and Moon discussed, you can already tell it's gonna get you into trouble. “So,” He starts, “Sunshine.” His voice is laced with an undertone of apathy, “Moon and I have discussed it, why don’t you bring your date here? We could make it a night to remember.” The sharpness in his voice definitely promises a memorable evening, just not in a way that would get you a second date, hell, probably not even a full first one. A thin smile is taut against his face as he speaks again, “What are their names? How long have you known them? Do you think it’s love? Are they your friends? Did they ask you first? How did they do it? Did they get you flowers? Are you dating? Do you want to date them? Do they have a stable income? Do they make you smile? Have they made you cry?” Sun’s eyes almost feel as if they’re burning holes into yours, pelting you with an onslaught of questions, questions you didn’t have answers to. It doesn’t help that as he continues to speak his words almost become covetous and condescending towards your imaginary dates.

You hold up a hand, prompting Sun to stop speaking. He quiets with a small huff, breaking eye contact to fiddle with the ribbons around his wrists while he waits for answers to questions he doesn’t really want to be answered. After all, the more he knows, the more this situation becomes real, and the more he has to accept that you really are as unobtainable as he and Moon originally believed you to be. You probably shouldn't find this amusing, but their blatant interrogation is oddly endearing. With a deep inhale, you stuff down the urge to poke fun, choosing instead to pull an answer or thirteen out your ass.

You chuckle, awkwardly scratching your cheek "Gonna be honest Sunny, I missed about half of those questions.." you make a face, scrunching it up as if you're trying to recall while you stall for a bit more time. "Their names are… Ray… and.. Mani.." You say less than smoothly, like you totally didn't just look at Sun's rays and pull some obscure name that means Moon out of no where. "I've known them.. funnily enough just about as long as I've been working here. I run into them on shift sometimes." Sun's eye twitches at that last bit, an invader, a thief, in his own home, how devastating.

You continue, "I'd say we're really close, they're probably both some of my best friends. They haven't asked yet.. but I can tell they want to, I'm actually gonna ask them today." Sun's expression is beginning to morph into a Glower as he readjusts his skirt frills for the umpteenth time. "We're not dating, but, I wouldn't mind having them as partners.. they.. both have jobs.. but they don't get paid.." you hesitate a bit, goosebumps ghosting over your arms as you feel the iciness of the animatronic's utter disapproval.

Oh boy, that was definitely not something Sun wanted to hear. How are they going to support you? How dare they make you the main breadwinner, you already work yourself too hard as it is. There's no way these two incompetent fools could ever treat you right.

"What kinda names are Ray and Mani anyway, they sound like losers." Moon's voice echoes through the headspace.

"EXACTLY! Losers, bet they wouldn't even remember Dewdrop's favorite color." Sun claps back.

"The nerve" the lunar AI grunts.

"We absolutely have to do something, it's our right." Says Sun.

"As their best friends" Moon responds.

"AS THEIR BEST FRIENDS." They agree.

And so, Operation: Prove that Ray and Mani are complete trash and get Starlight to fall madly in love with us. Was formed. How would they do so? Obviously they need to first convince you to take your dates here for valentines day, after a bit of passive-aggressive button pushing they'll get them to crack and show their true colors. Then, when they break your sweet, sweet, heart they'll be there to console you, effectively sweeping you off your feet and BANISHING the two from ever stepping foot in the daycare. It's the perfect plan, nothing, aside from the 62.81% chance of failure, could go wrong. But, Sun was never one for statistics, he preferred to believe that when something is meant to be, things will just work out swimmingly. So he wasn't worried. Moon on the other hand, was worried. Not enough to ditch the idea, but he could acknowledge that this isn't their brightest light bulb moment, and the odds aren't exactly in their favor.

Regardless they both cross their fingers, and hope somehow this all works out.

"Sun?"

I mean, how hard could it be to convince you? It's clear they would be a far better valentines day date than these.. these..

"Sun!"

Dirty stinkin' Starlight snatchers!!

"SUN!!"

The animatronic jumps, startled back into reality, he leans forward head tilted towards you.

"You good Sunshine?? Normally you respond quicker than that, you and Moon must be really getting into it in there. You're clutching the desk so hard the paper is ripping-" sure enough when Sun looks down at his hands the pink paper beneath his fingertips has been contorted.

"Ha… how.. Did that happen? Must've been a bug.. Moon will have to take a look later..." He smooths the bunches out, opening a small compartment in his shoulder to dispense several strips of tape to fix his mistake. "Anyway, Starlight, I think I may have gotten distracted with Moon for a moment or two." He finishes the repair, closing the compartment with a whack of his fist. "Now. Where were we? Ah yes, your dates. Please. Continue." His words come out with a taste of venom, whether it was intentionally placed or not. You pause for a moment, unsure if continuing this joke is a good idea. But you've come this far, there's no turning back, you have to double down.

"Well.. they make me smile.. even when they're not around, they're silly, clever, charismatic, understanding, loving.. I don't think I've ever been as happy as I am when they're near.. Mani has the most beautiful singing voice, and Ray is probably the most talented dancer I've ever had the pleasure of dancing with. They're both, just.. wow.. You should see them with kids, it's like a superpower, really." The fondness in your voice causes Sun to shiver, your face is so soft, eyes full of complete admiration.. He has to wonder, what it'd be like if you looked at him the same way.. With those pink cheeks and that shimmering gaze.. he watches as you bite your lip, pursing. He reaches out unconsciously, cupping your cheek like it were made of porcelain, stroking it gently with his thumb. "S-sun..?" You call, a bit redder than you were seconds ago.

"Oh!" He retracts his hand like your skin was hot to the touch, grasping it with his other as if he didn't entirely trust himself not to do it again. "I apologize Star.. I'm not sure where I went just now. I didn't hurt you did I?" Concern and what seems to be guilt is etched into his faceplate.

You frantically shake your head "No no! Not at all. I'm perfect, just peachy, see, all smiles.." to make a point you exaggerate a smile doing your best to convince. Sun simply nods, clenching his hand experimentally. "Are you sure you're alright Sun..? Did you forget to charge last night? Maybe you should go upstairs and rest before the daycare opens.." You do your best not to sound too concerned, was this your fault..? Did you upset them? Ugh, of course you'd manage to over complicate something that was supposed to be straightforward. The weight of Sun's hand against your shoulder is enough to pull you from your less than kind thoughts.

He smiles giving your shoulder a pat, "I'm alright Sunbeam, just a bit lost in thought. You'll have to forgive me for being so spacey this morning. Hehe~" Sun wiggles his brows, pleased with his crafty wordplay.

"You did not." You stare blankly back at the animatronic in question.

"Oh ho ho~ but I did." Sun grins smugly, there's an unspoken challenge behind that smirk.

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Annnnnd thats all I have down. If you read this far, thank you! I really appreciate it! ^w^

#moon fnaf #sun fnaf #fnaf daycare attendant #unfinished fic #valentines day wip #fanfiction #hoping no one actually reads this TvT #I never finish anything *sad airhorns*

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

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Toxic Taste

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] It's a perfect day for a picnic with your friends. Well, it seems like one until you suddenly fall very ill.

Warnings: very minor cursing

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: this was requested by @amintyworld! everyone just loves protective dream, don’t they? i had fun exploring this concept, and i hope you enjoy!

You hummed, fixing your hair in the mirror before giving yourself one last once over, nodding to yourself. Looks good. Just then, you heard the door swing open behind you, creaking with a quiet groan. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey, are you ready to go?”

Whirling around, your hand quickly grabbed the woven basket on the table beside you as you flashed Clay a bright grin, bounding over to his side with a skip in your step. “I am, now.”

Without having to say another word, he lifted his arm toward you, and you looped yours through his, your fingers tightening around the basket handle. The two of you stepped outside together, locking the door behind you before making your way down the oak path. Above you, only a few clouds dotted the cerulean blue sky, drifting along the gentle spring breeze.

It really was a perfect day for a picnic.

Turning, you cast a curious glance over at Clay. “Are you excited to see what everyone brought?”

He bobbed his head, his lips quirking up into a wicked grin. “Yeah—I can’t wait to make fun of whatever George made.”

You frowned, shooting him an unimpressed look. “George is a good chef in his own right,” you chided.

His smile widened, reaching over to gently tap your nose. “Yeah, but you’re the best.” He patted your basket cover, his viridian gaze swirling with mirth. “They’re gonna love your cookies.”

You rolled your eyes at him, snorting, but he didn’t miss the way your lips twitched. “You just say that because you’re my boyfriend.”

He hummed. “Just because I’m biased doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

You raised your brows at him. “Oh? So you admit that you’re biased?”

Leaning over, he brushed his lips against yours in a peck, pulling back with a dazzling grin. “Of course,” he murmured in that soft tone that made your cheeks grow hot, “without a doubt.”

You swallowed, trying to calm your frantically beating heart. “You’re so cheesy,” you said, adopting a passive tone, “no more dilly-dallying, now. We have a picnic to get to.”

He sent you a crooked smile. “Okay, okay.” His eyes flashed. “I’ll race you.”

“Huh, wh—?”

Before you could even process what was happening, he had suddenly bolted, his arm leaving yours. Almost immediately, your body yearned for the warmth of his pressed against yours, and you found yourself stumbling after him.

“Wait, Clay!” you called after him, your basket bouncing beside you as you watched him crest over the grassy hill. “That’s not fair! Get back here!”

He only turned to shoot you a goofy grin, laughter bubbling on his lips as he disappeared from view, his hoodie fading to nothing more than a tiny speck of green among the swaying blades of grass. You couldn’t stop the laughter from spilling from your lips, bursting from your chest like fireworks.

“You are so dead when I catch up to you!”

He called back over the horizon. “If you ever!”

Your grin only grew wider.

Oh, he was so dead.

“Your bread sucks.”

You gasped, lightly smacking Clay’s chest. “Clay!” Whipping around, you sent George an earnest grin. “George, I think your bread is wonderful.”

Beside you, Tommy made a face, setting his slice down on his plate with a disgusted glance. “Nah, I agree with Big D. This bread is pretty shit.”

Now, it was Wilbur’s turn to gasp. “Tommy!”

Tommy’s brows knit together as he scowled. “What? I’m just telling the truth.”

George let out a long groan, his glasses threatening to slide off the crown of his head as he hung his face in his hands. “I am never baking, again.”

In an instant, Niki was on her feet, flailing her arms. “No, no, no! Don’t say that—baking can be a lot of fun!” She paused for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “I can teach you a new sourdough recipe, if you’d like!”

George lifted his head, blinking at her with wide, hopeful eyes. “You would?”

She nodded, a bright smile tugging at her lips. “Of course!”

Sapnap snorted, taking another bite of steak. “I can’t believe you have to learn from someone else how to make good bread.”

George groaned again, glowering at his supposed best friend. “Why is everyone ganging up on me, today?”

Clay was quick to butt in. “Haven’t you heard? It’s National Be Mean to George Day.”

Tubbo blinked, confusion clouding his features. “That’s not a real holi—” He paused, then gasped. “Oh, wait.” He grinned. “Never mind.”

George’s glare only intensified, and he sighed. “Niki, forget it.”

While Niki practically shriveled into a puddle, Wilbur spoke up, offering him a reassuring smile. “Well, I think your bread is delicious, George. Genuinely.”

George flashed him a thankful grin, adjusting the glasses on his head. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

Letting out another laugh, you leaned back against Clay’s side, his arm firmly wrapped around your waist as you snuggled against him. Your friends were always up to weird antics, and while you didn’t necessarily agree with their actions, you were willing to indulge in them, if only to see what would happen next. In front of you, you gingerly picked up the half-eaten fish skewer from your plate, lifting it to your lips as you took another bite. It was sweet, and vaguely tasted like saltwater, but you liked it. It was unique, in its own weird way.

You watched as Clay reached across the patterned blanket for the plate of cookies you had brought, gingerly picking one up. Glancing up at him, you opened your mouth. “Do you actually think George’s bread is bad?” you asked softly. “Or are you just trying to rile him up?”

He paused, the cookie halfway to his mouth, then shrugged, biting in. “It’s a bit of both. It isn’t half-bad, I guess.” He shot you a cheeky wink. “Yours is still better, though.”

You groaned, feeling your face grow warm. “Stop that.”

He tilted his head at you, a cocky grin spreading across his face as he chewed. “Stop what?” he said, leaning in close to you. “Being honest?”

You did your best to send him a glare, but you knew it was half-hearted at best. “Yes.”

His grin widened, his eyes glimmering with affectionate arrogance. “Never.”

As his eyes locked onto yours, you felt your glare melt away. With a small hum, he dipped his head to yours, pressing his mouth to yours with a smile. His tongue lapped at your lips, and you grinned back. He tasted like chocolate chips and sunshine. You pulled back with a quiet gasp, your cheeks burned with heat as his emerald eyes bore into yours, crinkling at the corners.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered for you and you alone.

Your heart swelled. “I love you, too.”

He stared at you for a moment longer, then pressed his forehead against yours, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Also,” he added, “you taste like fish.”

You sent him a horrified look before smacking his arm again, your heart flipping as he wheezed at your reaction. “S-Shut up!”

He only wheezed harder in response, and despite your embarrassment, you felt a smile tugging on your lips. That was the thing about Clay that got you every time—as much as he would tease you and make your heart go wild in your chest, you knew he meant every single thing he told you. He was just so sincere like that, and it made you want to sink straight into him.

God, you were so, so in love.

Just then, a howl pulled you away from your attack on Clay. You turned to see Quackity, his mouth agape as he pointed at Niki, a bewildered look plastered to her face. “Niki!” he screamed. “You brought cake?”

She blinked, stunned for only a moment before she smiled, nodding. “Yeah! It’s homemade and has vanilla frosting.”

Quackity immediately sank down to one knee, one hand outstretched toward her as he said dramatically, “Marry me.”

Niki’s smile didn’t falter for even a second. “No thanks.”

Quackity’s arm dropped, and he let out a whine. “Damn, you didn’t have to say it so quickly.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he sat down with a pout. “You could have at least pretended to think about it.”

You all burst into laughter, giggling as Niki simply set her cake down on the blanket next to George’s bread. Wilbur had brought three watermelons—how he carted them over by himself, you had no idea—while Tommy brought pork chops. Tubbo had also caught fish for the occasion while Sapnap packed steak. Meanwhile, Quackity had carried a sack of apples over to the picnic, but you had a feeling he may or may not have stolen them, since he didn’t exactly own an apple orchard of his own.

You opened your mouth to ask for a slice of Niki’s cake when you suddenly froze, a bolt of what felt like lightning tingling up your spine. Your head spun, and you could have sworn your vision darkened at the edges. An uneasy pit grew in your stomach, and you frowned. Why do I feel so... strange?

Pushing yourself forward slightly, you tried to sit up straight, only to feel your arms wobble before you crashed back into Clay’s side once more. In a flash, his arms were around you, holding you steady as his green eyes peered down at yours.

“Hey,” he said, his tone growing serious, “are you okay?” He wrinkled his brow. “You look a little off.”

You blinked, feeling your stomach churn with uneasiness. “I’m, um—I feel kind of sick.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, Clay was on his feet, stretching his arm out to you. “Here, let me help you up.”

You slipped your hand into his, doing your best to hang on tight as he tugged you upward. You expected to simply stand on your own two feet just as you would in any other situation, but the moment you were up, you suddenly felt your knees buckle beneath you, your legs going numb. You gasped as your feet went flying out under you, your fingers digging onto Clay’s palm.

“Clay—!”

With a whirl, his arms held you to his chest, your sides shaking. A rush of anxiety rolled through you, and you looked down, desperately trying to move your foot, only to find that you couldn’t. It remained as still as a rock, and you wanted to cry.

“[Y/N],” Clay breathed, his hand on your face as he supported your weight with his other arm, “what’s wrong?” His eyes desperately searched yours for any clue as to what was happening, but all you could manage was a broken, choked whisper.

“Clay, I—” You swallowed, your hands trembling around his arm while something stung at the back of your eyes. “I can’t move my legs.”

He froze, his voice dropping to a deadly low whisper. “You what?”

You shook your head, hanging onto him for dear life. The spinning had gotten worse now, and you felt sicker and sicker by the second. “I-I don’t know, I don’t feel good and something’s wrong and—Clay,” you breathed, tears welling up in your eyes, “I’m scared.” Your heart pounded in your chest, but for all the wrong reasons. “Am I going to die?”

His gaze hardened, filling with determination as his hold around you tightened. “No,” he said without even an inkling of doubt, “you’re not.”

Before you could react, he suddenly swung one arm beneath your numb legs, easily hoisting you up so that you were carefully pressed against his chest. You gasped as your friends’ eyes landed on you, their faces full of worry as your head lolled against Clay’s shoulder.

“Everyone,” he said, his voice booming across the field, “there’s something wrong with the food.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t eat it.”

He turned his head, dipping his head toward George as he said, “George, I need you to get me as many regeneration potions and golden apples as you can, ASAP.”

George was on his feet as fast as he could, already turning on his heel. “I’m on it,” he shouted as he took off, already booking it down the hill.

Finally, Tubbo spoke up, asking the one question that had been on everyone’s mind. “Dream, what’s going on?”

Clay’s eyes darkened, and you could just barely feel his hands tighten around you while your vision swam.

“[Y/N]’s been poisoned.”

Wilbur gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god.”

Sapnap whipped his head around, gazing at the once serene picnic blanket with sheer terror. “What the fu—”

Suddenly, your hand shot up to grip Clay’s collar, his eyes immediately darting to yours. You gasped, your head absolutely throbbing as your heart rammed against your rib cage all too quickly. You opened your mouth, your spit tasting like salt and ash.

“Clay, I—”

The words died in your mouth as the world went dark, enveloping you in cold darkness.

You awoke with a start, bolting upright as you gasped, the cool air flooding your aching lungs. Immediately, you felt your stomach churn in retaliation, and your skull practically screamed at you to lie back down again. Slamming a hand over your eye, you felt the spinning of your head slowly fade away. Disoriented and dizzy, the blurriness of your vision began to lift as you blinked, taking in the sight of the room around you.

You didn’t recognize the windowsill at your side or the mattress you were lying on. The closed door stared back at you as your gaze swept over it, almost as if it knew you were confused. Not even the sheets looked familiar.

Where... am I?

You swallowed, something sharp and uneasy prickling up your spine.

What happened?

Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you tried to recall the events that had led you up to this moment.

You remembered... cookies. And a picnic. Clay’s hand in yours. There was food, and laughter. Then suddenly, you were queasy. Sick. Something wasn’t right. Then... nothing.

You blanched. Did I pass out?

Just then, you heard the door click, the hinges swinging open with a creak. Your eyes flew open and your breath hitched in your throat, and you turned, your fingers curling tighter into the sheets. Your eyes went wide as Clay walked in, one hand on the handle and the other holding an apple. The moment his eyes met yours, he froze.

“Clay?” you whispered, your voice sounding hoarse.

The apple dropped to the ground.

In an instant, he was in front of you with his hands on your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. His emerald eyes bore straight into yours with an intensity that sent your heart reeling. The words flew from his mouth in a flurry, his gaze never leaving yours.

“How are you feeling? Can you hear me? Is everything feeling alrig—”

“Woah, woah,” you said, waving your hand to cue him to stop, “what happened?”

His fingers trembled against your cheeks, and you could have sworn his eyes flashed with something wet. “[Y/N], oh, I’m—” He swallowed, his neck bobbing as he sent you a grateful smile. “I’m just so glad that you’re here.”

His hands pulled away from your face as he stood upright once more, heading for the open door. “Here, I’ll be back in a second.”

You raised your hand toward him, opening your mouth to say something, but he was already gone, having disappeared down the hall in a flash. Blinking, you sat stunned and even more confused than before, left only to wait and hope for an explanation once he returned.

Hardly even two minutes passed before you heard the rumbling of footsteps racing toward the open door. You squeaked when a series of faces filled the room, their cheeks red and chests heaving as they caught their breath. Clay immediately shuffled back to your side, slipping into the space on the bed next to you before grabbing your hand, squeezing.

“[Y/N]!” Niki cried, her eyes filled with panic. “Are you okay?”

Beside her, Tubbo’s hands shook at his side. “We only just heard from Dream that you were awake.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, your mind still hazy with everything that had just happened. Struggling to come up with an answer, you found yourself blurting the first words that came to mind. “How long has it been?”

You saw George shoot Sapnap a look, shrugging his shoulders before glancing back at you. “Uh, like, half a day.”

You shot forward, gaping. “Half a day?!”

Tommy flashed you a bright grin, leaning against Tubbo’s shoulder with a teasing look. “Yeah, you should have seen Dream run around! He spoon fed you regeneration potions and probably even read three whole fuckin’ libraries’ worth of books on poison antidotes while you wer—”

A hand suddenly smacked into Tommy’s skull, and he yelped. Behind him, Wilbur scowled. “Tommy!” he scolded. There was a soft giggle, then Wilbur whirled, his eyes narrowing. “And Quackity.” The giggles stopped. “Don’t think I didn’t see you laughing. This is serious.”

There was a slight pause. “Okay, but it is funn—”

“[Y/N],” Clay suddenly said, cutting Tommy off as his hand squeezed yours.

You blinked, trying to ignore how low his voice sounded right about now. “Y-Yeah?”

He cocked his head at you, gesturing to the sheets covering your lower half. “Can you move your legs?”

“Um...” Lifting an arm, you flung the sheets off of you, carefully shifting your leg back and forth. “Y-Yeah. I’m still feeling kind of funny, though.” You wrinkled your nose. “I’m not sure if I can stand, yet.”

He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he ran a hand through his hair. “Damn. I had a feeling this would happen, but I still wished it wouldn’t.”

Quackity took a step forward, his hand outstretched toward you. “Here, [Y/N], try—”

A snarl ripped itself out of Clay’s throat, and his shout echoed off the walls. “Don’t touch them!”

A tense silence immediately fell over the room, and Quackity back-pedalled, pulling his hand back as if he had burned it on hot coal. You watched as a pang of guilt shot across Clay’s face before he sighed. “Sorry, I mean—” He shook his head, lowering his head. “Fuck.”

Sapnap sent him a small smile, sincere and reassuring. “Hey, man,” he said softly, “it’s alright. We get it. You’re stressed. I’d react the same way if I was in your position.”

Clay raised his chin a little, his lips quirking. “Thanks, Sap.”

Wilbur suddenly spoke up, his eyes trained on you. “Dream, I think we still have some questions we should ask.”

Clay blinked, then nodded. “Right, thanks, Wilbur.” Clearing his throat, he turned to face you head on.” Do you still remember the picnic?” When you nodded, he continued. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen?”

You paused, then shook your head. “Not that I can remember. I woke up, packed up a basket, walked over to the field with you, ate with everyone, then...” You gestured vaguely. “Well, y’know.”

His gaze hardened. “What did you eat?”

You thought for a moment. “Um, I ate an apple, and I had two slices of George’s bread.” You paused again, furrowing your brows. Then, your eyes lit up. “Oh, and I also ate some of the fish.”

Clay stared at you. “Fish?” he parroted.

You bobbed your head, humming. “Yeah. That’s about as much as I remember.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and you could practically see the gears turning in Clay’s head. “Did anyone else here eat the fish?” he finally said after a while.

Your friends cast curious looks at one another before George raised his hand, shaking his head. “No.” He jutted his head toward you. “[Y/N] was the first and only person to, I believe.”

Clay pursed his lips. “Tubbo.”

Tubbo jumped, looking panicked and shaky as he stammered out, “Y-Yes, Dream?”

Clay narrowed his eyes. “Who exactly brought the fish?”

Tubbo gulped. “Uh, it, um, ah—” He inhaled sharply at the look on Clay’s face, then sighed. “I did, Dream.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Then, Clay sighed, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Oh, it all makes sense now.”

Now, it was Tommy’s turn to speak, his expression clouded with confusion. “How the fuck does that make this make any more sense than it did before?”

Clay suddenly slipped his hand out of yours, your palm meeting nothing as he rose to his full height. You felt the air grow cold.

“Tubbo,” he said slowly, casually—almost too casually. A crooked, charming smile spread across his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “What kind of fish was it?”

Tubbo lowered his gaze to the ground. “Pufferfish,” he said in a tiny whisper.

Tommy stared. “Oh.” Understanding flickered across his face before being replaced by horror. “Oh.”

Clay took a step forward, the grin never leaving his face. “Tubbo—”

Your hand shot forward, grabbing onto his wrist before he could take another step. His arm was tense underneath your touch, but he stopped the moment your skin met his. “Clay,” you said quickly, your words rushed and hurried, “stop, please.”

He turned, looking back at you over his shoulder. You shook your head at him. “I’m sure it was an accident. Tubbo would never poison anyone deliberately, let alone me.”

You heard a soft hiccup, then Tubbo spoke. “I-I wouldn’t, I swear it! I just... I thought cooking pufferfish would make them less toxic for other people.”

Niki raised her hand, her face pleading as her eyes darted back and forth between Dream and Tubbo. “I can vouch for him, and not just because we’re friends. He might have built up his own tolerance for pufferfish poison, but I don’t think he realized just how bad it could turn out to be.”

Tubbo nodded frantically, looking smaller than ever as he finally lifted his head. “Seriously, Dream, I would never do it intentionally, I promise.” He turned to look at you, his sides shaking as your gaze met his.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N],” he whispered, honesty and desperation soaking into every syllable he spoke, “I really am.”

Your face softened immediately, and you could only hope he knew how sincere you were being. “I forgive you, Tubbo.” Your eyes flit to the man in front of you. “Do you, Clay?”

You couldn’t see his expression from where you were sitting, but the look of terror on Tubbo’s face said it all. “Yes,” he said, “but only because you do.”

Your grip around his wrist tightened. “Clay, I’m positive. Please, just let it be.” You tugged a little, and he turned, watching as you kicked your legs at him with a small smile. “I’m all better now, see?”

The coldness in his gaze finally seemed to melt, and he shook his head at you, his lips twitching. “Fine.” Walking back over to you, you tucked your legs back against you as he sat on the bed, levelling a glare at the crowd gathered in front of you. “Now everyone, get out.”

There was a whistle. “Jeez, aggressive mu—”

“Tommy,” Wilbur said again, already tugging at the blond’s collar as he tread toward the hall, “an angry Dream is not someone you want to mess with.”

Tommy glowered as everyone filed out of the room, his voice fading away as they disappeared outside. “Ugh, you are such a killjo—”

Sapnap sent you a friendly smile as his hand wrapped around the door handle. “I hope you feel better soon, [Y/N].”

You returned his grin with a grateful look. “Thanks, Sapnap.”

With one last wave, he pulled the door shut, leaving you alone with Clay. Shifting forward slightly, you swung your legs off the bed, nudging him with your side. “Clay?” you murmured, your eyes searching his face. It was at times like this he was easier to read.

With a sigh, he hung his head in his hands, the vein in his neck bulging out. “God, I know he means well, but I still kind of want to wring Tubbo’s neck, right now.”

You leaned against him, pressing your cheek to his bicep. “Clay, don’t say that.”

He lifted his head, growling. “I know, I know! It’s just—”

He bit his lip, then sighed again, his arm reaching up to pull you onto his lap. Shifting you around so that you were facing him, his leaned his forehead against yours, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“You don’t know how scared I was,” he whispered, sincere and true. “I never want to lose you. Ever.”

Heat crawled up your neck, and your head spun, but not for the same reasons as before. “C-Clay.”

His hand stroked along your back. “It’s the truth, y’know? I’d never lie to you, and I mean every word.” Leaning upward, he pressed his lips to your forehead as he spoke, the words shaking against your skin. “You mean more to me than you may ever know.”

You hummed, your heart blossoming in your chest. “Even if that’s the case,” you said, “you don’t need to be so upset, anymore.” You felt his lips leave your forehead, and you peered up at him through your lashes. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

You leaned back in his arms, reaching up to brush your fingertips over his freckles. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you watched him melt a little at the gesture. “Now,” you said, quiet yet firm, “promise me you won’t be mad at Tubbo the next time you see him.”

He blinked. “W-What?”

You pursed your lips. “Clay.”

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. I promise.” A sly grin slipped onto his face. “But only if...”

You raised a brow at him. “Only if...?”

You half-wanted to smack the stupid grin off his stupidly perfect face. “Only if you give me a kiss.”

You giggled, slipping your arms over his shoulder and around his neck. He always knew how to make you laugh, even at serious times like this. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his in a sweet kiss. He still tasted like freshly squeezed lemonade, gleaming in the light of the sweet summer sun. You felt him smile against you, and you pulled away mirroring his expression.

“There,” you whispered, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Does that seal the deal?”

He hummed, tilting his head at you while mischief danced in his eyes. “Maybe you should do it again just to make sure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t stop the giddy smile from spreading across your face.

Your picnic may have been a disaster, but you wouldn’t mind ending your days wrapped in Clay’s arms more often.

1K notes · View notes

master-sass-blast · 3 years

Text

Not Normal.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Not gonna lie, this whole fic is me projecting just how bad I want a massage.

Summary: “I’m not having you break my back if yours is already busted.”

The corner of her mouth curls up in a smirk, but only for a moment. “I’m not some fragile, old lady. I know my limits.”

You lift your chin and stare her down. “I’m not consenting.”

Lin scowls and lets out an irritated huff. “Then what the hell are you doing here?”

It stings, just a bit, but you shrug it off and turn to leave. “I’ll let you rest.” You make it halfway to the door, then stop when an idea occurs to you. “Actually...”

Lin looks up when you walk back into the sitting room. “What, change your mind?”

You roll your eyes. “No --but there might be something else I can do for you.”

AKA you get Lin to agree to some self-care, for once in her life.

Pairing(s): Lin Beifong x Reader.

Rating: T on account of my love of swear words.

Word count: 4.5k.

There’s a certain element of “razzle dazzle” that comes with “seeing” --or, perhaps more accurately, being fucked by--Lin Beifong.

You know that the Beifongs are an old money family; hell, everyone in the world practically knows it. The flying boar crest pops up in nearly every major Earth Kingdom enterprise, from mining, to textiles, to political halls.

Lin, despite her staunch pragmatism, is no exception. Her apartment is in the nicest complex in the city --one of the nicest in the world, even--where rent goes for several tens of thousands of yuan a month. She drives the latest model Satomobile (and even with her personal acquaintanceship with Asami Sato, it’s no small financial investment). The fixtures in her apartment --what of them there are, given Lin’s leanings toward minimalism--are all high end, from her furniture, to her bed sheets, to the toiletries that neatly line the built-in shelf in her shower.

And, if she has an occasion to stay somewhere other than her apartment, her tastes don’t waver in the slightest.

According to Lin --who’d given you a short, gruff answer when you’d asked the first time about why she’d invited you to the Four Elements and not her apartment--it’s because of the Spirit Vine entanglement that’s taken over a good chunk of the city. Whenever she has to work in the outer reaches of Republic City, she stays in a hotel suite until everything’s resolved since the drive back to her apartment has practically tripled.

(Personally, you’re not complaining. It’s not every day you get to sweat up the sheets in a bed of a five star hotel room.)

You stride up the steps to the entrance of the hotel, a spring in your step. Your mind’s already awhirl with countless options for the evening; all of them end with your ability to walk being severely impaired.

(It’s the small things in life.)

The front desk staff already knows you (a credit to how often Lin wrecks your back). A crisply dressed concierge member hands you a heavy metal key when you detour to the desk, then gives you a polite “Have a pleasant stay” as you head over to the elevator banks.

It’s a long, tortuous two minutes to the penthouse.

The penthouse comes with its own butler --something you know rankles Lin, but it’s hotel policy. They greet you when you step off the elevator and usher you into the sitting room.

Lin’s there, stretched out on a velvet upholstered sofa with a pillow propped under her head. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her mouth is set into a tight scowl.

You can already feel the bruises on your thighs; a shudder runs down your spine. “Rough day?”

Lin grunts, then tries to sit up --only to gasp in pain and stop halfway.

You frown, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Lin spits through gritted teeth. She winces as she forces herself to finish sitting up and settles against the couch gingerly. “It’s just my hip.”

You cross your arms over your chest and arch one eyebrow at her. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“I said I’m fine,” she snaps.

“I’m not having you break my back if yours is already busted.”

The corner of her mouth curls up in a smirk, but only for a moment. “I’m not some fragile, old lady. I know my limits.”

You lift your chin and stare her down. “I’m not consenting.”

Lin scowls and lets out an irritated huff. “Then what the hell are you doing here?”

It stings, just a bit, but you shrug it off and turn to leave. “I’ll let you rest.” You make it halfway to the door, then stop when an idea occurs to you. “Actually...”

Lin looks up when you walk back into the sitting room. “What, change your mind?”

You roll your eyes. “No --but there might be something else I can do for you.”

“Like what?”

“I do have a job aside from letting you fuck my brains out,” you quip, which gets a terse chuckle from the older woman. “I’m a healer. Massage therapy and chiropractic adjustment, with a specialty in dealing with injury and scar tissue rehabilitation.”

Lin stares blankly at you. “Oh.”

You do an internal victory dance; it’s not everyday you manage to surprise Lin Beifong. “I might be able to get you some pain relief.” You purse your lips when her expression sours and put your hands on her hips. “Pride isn’t worth pain, Lin.”

She opens her mouth to argue --then winces again and sighs. “Fine.”

You nod --after a moment to process your shock. “Okay. I’ll need to pick up a couple things from the office I work in.”

She waves one hand and tips her head back against the couch. “Fine.”

You stare at her for a beat, then turn on your heel and head to the door before she can change her mind.

***

It’s times like this that you’re grateful for the invention of the phone.

Thanks to the Spirit Vine blockages and rush hour traffic, it takes an hour to get to your office. You call Lin from there to let her know that’ll likely take you a while to get back --which she accepts with little more than a grunt--then pack up what you need.

Thank Spirits for the invention of the portable massage table, too.

By the time you get back to the Four Elements, the sun is setting (although, for late winter, that’s not surprising). Your foot taps against the floor of the elevator car as it whirs past the countless floors to the penthouse. As soon as the doors open, you exit --the butler lets you into the penthouse proper--and head straight for the sitting room.

Lin’s still there. She’s laying on the couch in the dark with one arm over her eyes.

“I need to turn the light on so I can set up.”

She grunts in response.

You turn on a table lamp, then start setting up your massage table. You keep glancing over at Lin, try to suss out what’s ailing her.

She’s tense --but, then, Lin’s almost always some sort of tense. Her jaw is clenched tight, and her hands are curled into fists. Her whole body looks keyed up, almost like relaxing hurts.

You realize she hasn’t taken her arm away from her eyes. “Light sensitive headache?”

Another grunt.

“Does talking hurt?” When she grunts again, you tut softly in sympathy. You secure the last leg of the massage table, then pick up your fur skein you use to hold water (it’s easier than toting around a bowl) and amble over to the couch. You crouch next to her, study her face and where she’s holding tension for a moment, then quietly ask, “Is it your scars?”

Lin tenses --likely on reflex, you’ve seen it in several trauma patients--but grits out, “Partially.”

“Alright.” You bend some water out of your skein. “I’m going to try to get you some relief so you can open your eyes and talk, okay?” When she nods, you continue. “I’ll need to work on your face, head, and neck. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Lin purses her lips, then takes her arm away from her eyes and nods.

You gently place your hands against her cheeks and use the water to feel along the tissue and muscle there. You can feel the scars --the angry, inflamed, knotted stripes of tissue that streak across her right cheek--and, sure enough, when you start massaging them gently, you can feel the pull of tension shooting into the surrounding muscles, up her forehead and scalp, and down into her neck.

“Yeah, that’s a gnarly one,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you try to find the root knot. You move one hand to Lin’s neck and start pressing your fingers against it. “Did you take a hit to the right side of your face recently?”

Lin’s lips curl into a tight smirk. “Got slugged in the face by a perp.”

“Ouch.” You suck a breath through your teeth. “Yeah, that would probably do it.”

“Should see the other guy.”

“Oh, I already knew they’re worse off.” You smile when she chuckles, then focus on feeling out the tension in her shoulders and neck. “Okay, I think I’ve got at least part of the root here. I’ll be able to get the rest of it once we get you over to the table.” You take a deep breath, then place your water-covered hands on her shoulders. “I’m gonna start down and work my way up so that the bigger muscles help the smaller ones release. You’re probably going to feel really warm from all the blood flow moving through the tissues again. If you need me to stop, tell me.”

Lin takes a deep breath to brace herself, then nods. “Just do what you need to do.”

You nod back --out of habit, her eyes are still closed--and start using the water to massage the muscles how you’ve been trained. You knead her shoulders with your waterbending, using the water in her muscle tissue to massage out the adhesions. “Come on,” you mutter as you work at a particularly stubborn knot. “I know you’re not happy; please let go for me…” You smile when you feel the muscle --finally--relax. “Thank you.”

From there, it’s like chasing after an unraveling rope. The release in the shoulder muscles triggers relaxation in Lin’s neck and face; all you have to do is follow along and catch any stragglers.

Lin lets out a gasp, then relaxes against the couch.

“That’s it,” you murmur with a smile as her body goes limp. You focus on the crown of her head, make sure the headache finishes dissipating properly, then bend the remaining water back into your jug once you’re done. “How’s that?”

Lin opens her eyes and blinks. “Feels like I got a full night’s sleep for once.” She pauses, then grimaces. “And like I’ve been out in the sun.”

You laugh quietly and nod. “That’s the blood saturating your muscles and soft tissue. It’ll settle in a bit --slowly!” you hiss, placing your hand against her back to help her sit up. “Don’t fucking undo all my hard work.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lin says, smirking. She lets you help her stand --though she glares at you a little for it--then winces as she straightens.

“Yeah, I figured there’d be more,” you mumble as you look her up and down. “Sit on the center of the table, arms down. Do you mind if I turn on another light so I can see better?”

“That’s fine.”

You turn on another lamp, then skirt around the table so you can better examine the set of Lin’s shoulders and her back. You press your fingers down the length of her spine, checking for resistance. “It’s your left hip that bothers you, right?”

“Yes.”

“That tracks with what I’m seeing,” you mutter as you check her ribs. “Can you turn your head to the left for me? And to the right?” You place your hands on her neck so you can feel the motion of the joints and muscles, then tap the left side of her neck. “You’ve got a lot of resistance here, likely caused by your body trying to correct your favoring your right side. I’m going to do some massage work first; the bones move easier if the muscles are already relaxed.” You step back and dig through the bag you’d brought with you. “Are you sensitive to scents?”

Lin grunts, displeased. “No fucking lavendar.”

You chuckle, then opt for the unscented massage oil, just to be safe. “Shirt and bra off, please, then lay flat on your stomach.”

Even though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, the sight of Lin Beifong topless is always enough to leave you breathless. The musculature in her back, shoulders, chest, abdomen, arms, even her hands, to say nothing of her tits…

You force yourself to close your mouth before you start drooling.

Lin lies down on her stomach, lets you reposition her arms and adjust the angle of her neck…

You sigh when you realize her hands have curled into fists. “Lin.”

“What?”

“I need you to relax.”

“I am.”

You arch one eyebrow at the back of her head. “For a cop, you’re not a very good liar.”

“Not supposed to be. That’s the attorneys’ job.”

You snort, then shake your head with a sigh. “Lin. Please. It’ll be harder for me if you don’t relax.”

She sighs --and then slowly, reluctantly, she lets her body go limp against the massage table.

You murmur your thanks --and tuck away the interesting fact that she conceded to make things easier for you--then pour some massage oil onto your hand and rub it between your palms. Once your hands are warm, you place them on Lin’s upper back and start working.

There’s a lot to work on. Between Lin’s sheer muscle mass and the stress-slash-physical wear and tear of her job, there’s knots and adhesions all over her back.

Lin grunts when something near her left scapula goes crunch. “What was that?”

“Gristle,” you reply with a smile. When she scoffs, you laugh. “I’m serious. The muscles around the shoulder blades get used a lot. The knots that form give the muscle tissue about the same consistency as gristle.” You dig your thumb into another line of knotted muscle and press it through. “Crunch, crunch, crunch. Do you do any yoga or regular stretching?”

“I do some stretching as part of my workout routine.”

“Good, good. I’d recommend adding some upper body stretches to your regimen; it’d help with all the tension you carry up here.”

Lin snorts, low and soft. “Whatever you say, kid.”

***

It’s slow work. There’s a lot of trauma and scarring on and in Lin’s body --no surprise there, given her line of work.

You switch back to waterbending-based healing when you get to her left hip. You grimace when you feel how inflamed the joint is, then start working on calming the irritated and overworked tendons. “You need to take it easier on the job.”

“I need to do my job properly,” Lin fires back, sucking in a breath when you adjust her hip further.

You switch to pain relief techniques. “You won’t be doing your job at all if you destroy the joint.”

Lin grumbles under her breath, but doesn’t argue further.

Once you’re done with the massage work, you let her get dressed before having her lie down on her back. “Have you had a chiropractic adjustment before?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, good. I’m going to work on your back first.” You put a padded board underneath her back, then have her cross her arms over her chest --one atop the other, hands on her shoulders so her arms make a ‘V’ shape. “Alright, curl your chin up.” You put one arm around her, supporting her back, then help her up so you can put your fist between Lin’s back and the board. “Okay, deep breath in… and let it out.”

Lin grunts when you roll her down over your hand and something in her back pops. “Shit.”

You freeze. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Keep going.”

You keep working up her back, then take the board out from under her back once you’re done. “How does that feel?”

Lin shifts experimentally. “Better.”

“Good, good.” You move to stand at the head of the massage table and start palpating her shoulders and neck. “Alright, let me take the weight of your head in my hands.” You gently turn her head to the left, feeling for any resistance. “Just let your body relax… okay…” You get her neck in position, feeling out where the tension rests. “Tilt your chin up for me, please.” You adjust your grip on her head. “Alright, deep breath in, then out…” You wait for her to exhale, then jerk her head to the left.

Lin groans when her neck cracks. “That felt good.”

“I bet.” You repeat the process for the right side, then have Lin roll on her sides so you can adjust her lower back. “Lay back down, I want to check your knees and ankles.”

Lin arches one eyebrow at you. “Is that… normal?”

“They can be safely adjusted, if that’s what you mean.” You flash her a teasing grin as you walk down the side of the massage table. “Besides, call it a hunch.”

“What ‘hunch?’”

By way of response, you start feeling around her knees and ankles. You nod, then laugh. “Yep. Definitely an earthbender.”

Lin smirks up at the ceiling. “Your first hint was?”

“You lot are rough on your ankles and knees. All that stomping around. I can tell just by how jammed up everything is in here.” You adjust her knees, then move to her ankles --and frown. “What the hell kind of shoes are you wearing, day to day?��

“My uniform boots.”

You squint at her from the base of the massage table. “The metal ones? With the retractable soles so you can use your seismic sense when needed?”

“...Yes.” Lin lifts her head, then chuckles when she sees the stink eye you’re giving her. “They’re practical.”

“They have no support for your joints,” you fire back. You smack her shin --albeit not harshly--when she lets out a huff of laughter, then set about adjusting her ankles. “Stubborn old fart.”

Lin snorts. “Pigheaded kid.”

You smile and shake your head.

***

By the time you finish, it’s nearly ten. The sky is dark, save for the few visible stars --thanks, light pollution--and the sounds of the city have wound down to a gentle roar.

Lin stands, stretches, then lets out a sigh of relief when there’s no pain or resistance. “Thanks.”

You wave your hand as you go about packing up your supplies. “No problem. I wasn’t about to let you suffer.”

Lin nods after a moment, then pads over to a nearby desk. “How much do you charge for your services?”

You gape. “I-- Lin, no--”

“I can always pick a number at random.”

Your mouth snaps shut. You sigh, but acquiesce (mostly because you’re certain she’ll pick an absurdly high amount just to get a rise out of you). You rattle off a price --an expensive price, maybe worth two or three day’s work in total--then accept the check Lin hands you moments later. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You huff a little --it still feels weird, taking a friend-but-not-friend’s money--as you tuck the check in your bag --and then your stomach decides to imitate a dying whale.

“I’m guessing you didn’t have dinner,” Lin surmises.

You shrug. “Kind of hard to give a massage and eat at the same time.”

The corner of Lin’s mouth quirks up. She nods to a nearby phone. “Kang’s is still open, if you want to put in an order.”

“...Okay.”

This entire night is a break in your usual routine. Massage and chiropractic work aside, normally you’re either headed home or in the middle of being fucked into the nearest solid surface by now. There’s no casual hanging out --and, sure, Lin’s ordered take out for the two of you on occasion, when you were both hungry, but all this still feels… different.

(You’re not sure what’s scarier, the change or the fact that part of you likes it.)

You put in the order --fortunately, Lin’s ordered from Kang’s before, so you know what she likes--then put down the phone just as the clock strikes ten. “Oh! Murder Mystery Theater is on!”

Lin looks over at you. “What?”

“It’s a crime-drama radio show. They run a new show every week.” You gesture to the radio. “Do you mind?” You take Lin’s hand wave as the permission it is, and turn on the radio before tuning it to the right station.

The sound of slightly muffled string instruments floats out the speaker.

“This week! On Murder Mystery Theater…”

You make yourself comfortable in an armchair that matches the velvet upholstered sofa. The new shows air at nine, so this one’s a rerun, but you recognize it as one of your favorites --a dramatic game of cat and mouse between the intrepid detectives and a serial killer hiding in plain sight.

Five minutes in, and you realize that Lin’s listening along, even as she reads from a newspaper. You catch her looking over at the radio or staring off into space while she processes the story unfolding before her.

Eventually, she flips to the next page of the paper and says, “The doctor did it. He gets off on killing his patients.”

You raise your eyebrows as you look over at her. You already know she’s wrong --it’s the mortician’s assistant, who so happens to be the doctor’s son. A smile stretches across your lips as an idea forms in your brain. “Wanna bet?”

Lin looks up from the paper and smirks at you. “What’s your wager?”

You mull it over, then grin wickedly. “If you’re wrong, I get to use the cuffs on you at some point.”

Lin scoffs and sets the paper down on the coffee table in front of the sofa with a thwap. “And what could you possibly offer to make that a balanced wager?”

“If you’re right… I’ll behave for a night. Whatever you want, no complaining, no fighting.”

Lin’s eyes light up. She smirks, then extends a hand out to you.

You grin and shake her hand.

***

Dinner arrives halfway through the show. You and Lin eat in the sitting room, listening to the show while eating (spicy possum chicken with steamed vegetables and rice for her, braised hippo beef with spring rolls for you).

“--but Jang said she was with her husband at an evening show until eleven.”

“...Which means he can’t have been playing cards with his friends at ten.”

“Not unless he’s a Spirit. Come on, I’ll drive. Let’s go see if Lee remembers this ‘show’ he went to with the missus.”

“This isn’t half bad,” Lin comments around half a mouthful of possum chicken.

“I thought you liked Kang’s,” you fire back, even though you caught her meaning the first time.

She rolls her eyes, swallows, then continues. “I meant the show. Its description of police procedure is actually on point.”

“The creator shadowed police departments in the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation for over a year before writing the first episode,” you explain before biting into a spring roll. You chew, swallow, then add, “He used to work as a PR rep for law enforcement when they had to work difficult cases.”

Lin nods, impressed. “It’s definitely better than all the crime family and love triangle shit that gets put out there.”

“Well… that stuff happens, doesn’t it?”

“Not the way the media likes to write it.”

You concede with a shrug --then perk up when you realize the script is heading towards the twist reveal. You shove the rest of your spring roll into your mouth to keep from tipping off Lin to your “insider information.”

“Lee Jang is a servant to this city. He’s been my coworker for three years! I think I’d know if he was a psychopath murderer.”

Lin’s brows knit together. She sets down her container of chicken and glares at the radio. “The mortician’s assistant?”

You shrug and take another bite of your entree to keep from grinning like an idiot. “Eh, there’s still time for things to shake out different. Each show always has a twist.”

Except it doesn’t “shake out different.” The mortician’s assistant is arrested, there’s a few brief trial scenes, and then it ends with an allocution when it’s apparent that the case isn’t going in the defendant’s favor.

Lin tosses her chopsticks against the coffee table and slumps back against the couch with a disgusted scowl. “Fucking dammit.”

“I guess that makes me the winner.” You tidy up your take out trash, pretending to pay Lin no mind as she glares holes into the side of your skull.

There’s no hiding your smug sense of victory --especially from a seasoned detective such as Lin Beifong.

She narrows her eyes. “You knew how the story would end.”

You lift your gaze to meet hers and smile, smug and unrepentant. “New shows air at nine. Reruns air at ten.”

Lin rolls her eyes. “So you cheated.”

“The odds are always in the house’s favor.” Your smile slips when you take in her obvious discomfort and displeasure. “We don’t have to hold the deal if you’re that upset about it.”

Her gaze cuts over to you. She studies you for a minute, then relaxes minutely and shakes her head. “It’s fine. A deal’s a deal.”

You’d argue, but something in her eyes --a familiar glint you’re accustomed to seeing before starts undressing you, or spanking you, or bending you over the nearest flat surface--makes you stop. Your cunt throbs, and you push through it by crossing your legs. “Alright, then. I’ll let you know when I want to collect.”

Lin rolls her eyes --but she’s smiling, just a hint. “Brat.”

“Funny, I thought that was why you liked me.”

Lin merely rolls her eyes again (but you swear you see her smile get bigger, just a bit).

You stand, stretch, then turn off the radio when it switches to a commercial. You eye the clock, then groan when you realize it’s almost eleven. “Dammit. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

It’s too late for a cab --again--or the hotel’s car service. Lin could drive you, but it’d be forever to get to your apartment building from here (thank you Spirit Vines and bureaucracy for impeding the city infrastructure).

Lin glances at the clock, then stands and starts clearing her share of the take out trash. “Stay here. Use the second bedroom.”

You nod, grateful (it’s not the first time you’ve stayed over with her at the hotel, given that the Spirit Vine roadblocks aren’t exactly new). “Thanks.”

Lin nods--

And then the two of you just stare at each other.

(Because, while this isn’t the first time you spent the night in her hotel suite, normally she fucks you in your bed, then heads to her own bedroom once you’re sated and on the verge of passing out.

But, if it wasn’t clear, this isn’t exactly “normal procedure.”)

Lin moves first. She nods again --awkward and jerky--then carries her trash over the bin in the kitchen before striding off to the room she usually uses. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

“Good night,” you reply, soft enough that you’re not sure she hears you. You blink when the door to her bedroom thumps shut, then sigh and force yourself to clean up and head for bed as well.

(Despite the luxurious mattress and bedding, sleep is a long time coming.)

#sass writes #lin beifong x reader #in a shocking move from me this one has no smut!#instead it's *caring*#dare i say *bonding*#perhaps even some notes of *fluff*#also i want a fucking massage so bad so i'm living vicariously through this fic #legend of korra #the hands that heal

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valeskakingdom · 3 years

Note

since we were talking about candy in the groupchat, what about jerome and reader being at the circus or a festival and reader insisting on trying every candies and snacks? or maybe that would be jerome? haha (of course, ignore if you want to! :))

No it's alright! I think I do it before Jerome became crazy tho. Still I think I mention the abusive relationship and the big hatred Jerome feels for her. Get ready for a little surprise ahaha!

This time it's a very short one tho (my opinion)

Credit: @daily-joker

Jerome x Reader

Warnings: short mention of violence and abuse, otherwise none

Word count: 2139

It was 4ish in the afternoon.

You were excited - finally you see your lover again: the ginger circus boy Jerome Valeska. He meant everything to you, you couldn't without him. In your opinion you and him had almost the perfect relationship. You've never argued, you supported each other, helped each other... It was magical. Both of you, Jeromeor you, could never think it. You and arguing? About what? There was nothing to argue about. You know he would never cheat on you, nor would you. Your feelings for each other were way to strong.

But yes, as you've heard - your relationship was almost perfect.

The crux of the matter were your habits. You lived in a small apartment near the Narrows with a non exciting view to the outside - you just saw damaged houses, trash filled the streets, and just a few people walked outside.

And Jerome - he lived at the circus. Always travelling, always far away from you. Just at the beginning of spring you were able to see him, otherwise you were required to send letters - and you did it, day by day until you both knew everything about each other. You knew, he didn't like the circus - mainly because of his mother Lila Valeska, the snake dancer. In your opinion, she was a whore who abused his own flesh and blood. She was beating Jerome, yelling and punishing him for nothing. It made you cry, thinking your love of your life was living in such horrible conditions. Several times you offered him to live with him but he always declined. He said if he left his mum would find him and kill him. Then you offered him to move to the circus but even that he declined. He said he couldn't forgive himself if his mother laid a finger on you - kind of understandable.

***

You made your way quick to the circus. You didn't want to waste your time, you couldn't wait any longer to see you. You wanted to hug him, kiss the shit outta him, wanted to smell on his cologne that smelled like a mix of candies and the classy men perfume. It satisfied all your senses, you were literally addicted to it.

After you quickly parked in front of the circus, you made your way fast to enter it. You didn't even need to buy a ticket, every artist knew you as Jerome pretty little doll. That was the nickname he usually gave you when he was non stop talking about you.

On the entrance, you saw the Ringmaster seemingly looking for something. His head permanently moved from one side to another and he had a questioning look on his face. It changed though as he saw you. A little smile went over his face and waved at you, he had some empathy for you which was not natural.

"Great to see you (Y/n)."

"Thank you," you gave him a warm smile "Was just looking for Jerome."

"Might be in his trailer. Probably arguing with his mother again. I heard them yelling." He shrugged clueless.

You just sighed in response, you knew what that meant. You'd find Jerome being beaten up in his room, his pretty face was covered in bruises and he'd try to overplay everything although he'd love to cry into your shoulder.

Immediately, you made your way to his trailer, almost running. You hoped he was fine and nothing that bad has happened yet.

Your feeling was wrong.

You saw him sitting in front of the trailer. He was crawled into himself like a little girl that was scared of getting punched but one of its parents again - what a cliche.

You couldn't see whether he was crying yet or not - you just hoped he didn't.

You hope was all gone as you came nearer, you heard him sobbing and sniffing. Fuck, you thought. Your felt sorry for him, you couldn't stand him being so sad. It made you sad, you just wanted to cry. You couldn't see him like that. Your heart felt heavy, breathing became a burden, pins and needles were all over your skin, tears were built up in your eyes at you were trying to hold back.

"Jerome-" Your breathe hitched as he looked up at you - his eyes were puffy and red from crying and his face...oh lord. He had a black eye, a red swollen lip with a bloody cut You almost didn't date to ask. You knew he didn't like taking about it "Wha-what has happened?"

"Had a little argument with my mum and her one off bozo." He shrugged sniffing and looked at the ground.

You couldn't understand Lila, you couldn't understand anybody who ever abused someone like that. Did they have fun destroying someone's life?! Did she love seeing her son hurt?

Saying nothing you took a seat next to him. You took his hand tangling your fingers in your and rubbed circles with your thumb slowly as you rested your head on his shoulder. You tried to calm him down with that. You knew words were useless. You could start this typical encouragement like everything's gonna be better bla bla. You and he knew it was not true and making him falso hope wouldn't help at all.

You both said nothing for a while. You gave him time to clear his head that he could calm down. You didn't want to annoy him with any stupid words or thoughts as well.

"I wanna kill her." Jerome said all of a sudden "She should feel the pain she causes me."

You gulped in surprise. You've never heard him saying like this before, he sounded so serious about it what kinda scared you. Was he serious about it? No he wasn't, right? Jerome was too adorable to be a criminal. He was surely just upset about the stuff his mother does to him and he doesn't know what he's sayinh.

"I just can offer you to stay with me, Jerome. You'd be save, no mother, no violent bozos. There'd be just you and me."

"Soon I will. I promise." He wiped his tears from his cheeks.

"Just say a word and I help you packing." You just kissed his cheek give him a little smile. It was the first time he said this. Now you were assured he really wanted to do all these things you've planned once: Living together, a wedding, kids.

Jerome looked at you now. His gaze met yours, a small smile was built up in his actually face. He was relieved. He was thankful you offered him a place to say although the he permanently denied it. He was thankful to have you by his side. You were his only supporter, and the most intense one.

"I love you," Jerome grabbed your cheeks softly and pulled you into a deep kiss. You couldn't help but smile as your lips touched softly.

"I love you, too." You said against his lips with a smile making him smile, too. You were thinking now. What could you do to make him feel better? Sex was no option for you - well, not right now. You wanted to give him the feeling of freedom, that he could do what he wanted or that he could be a normal teenager like you. You wanted to do something stupid with him. Something like buying tons of food like trying to win the biggest soft animal or taking silly photos of each other. You just wanted to see him happy again.

Then you had an idea.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him after you while you both stood up. Probably that was gonna be one of your most stupid ideas but it was fun. It was childish. Maybe he would even call you dumb but you didn't care. You just wanted to make him love and letting him forget all his problems.

"What are you doing?" Jerome frowned as he wiped the last few tears out of his face.

"I wanna cheer you up, silly." You giggled and kept walking "Have you ever eaten every sort of candies here Or every snack you can buy here?"

"What?"

"Yes or no?"

"Uhm...no? What are you-..."

"Time for changes." You smirked "We now go buy every single candy and every kind of fast food they offer here. Then we go out anywhere and eat them all up and vote what's the best and the worst one."

"Are you serious?" Jerome asked on disbelief.

"I'm anything but joking." You stopped walking giving him a stern look "So you're in?"

"I don't know," Jerome shrugged with a sigh "I'm just not in the mood for anything."

Instead of saying something, you pulled him into a tight hug and buried your face into the crook of his neck. At first, he didn't hug you back, just stood there; sad, unmotivated, pissed. You didn't mind about it. You could understand how he felt. Being beaten up and insulted almost every day had to be horrible. It was a living hell.

After a few minutes though, you felt Jerome slowly wrapping his arms around. His head was leaned against yours, one of his hands was placed on the back of your head and his fingers were tangled in your hair. You felt how he pulled you more against him. He needed you, more than before - more than anything right now.

"I hate seeing you like that, Jerome." You mumbled "I just want you to be happy or at least forget all these bad things for a moment. I know it's hard, but I just wanna help you, okay?"

"I know...thank you for that." Jerome kissed your head, then looked at you giving you a little smile making you smile, too.

"Anytime for you," You pecked his lips "So...does that mean you're in?"

"Do we really have to eat all candies?"

"Yes! That's the fun on it," You chuckled "How about we rate the candies? Criteria are taste and consistence. C'mon that'll be fun!"

"Fineee." He rolled his eyes with a slight laughter. You were glad. You were glad seeing him smiling, hearing him laughing a little. His eyes weren't full of tears anymore, he didn't look sad not like he was about to have a nervous break down. He looked like the funny and happy Jerome you got to know.

***

"What about Twinkies?" You ask as you and Jerome took a bite in it as you both sat n the back seats of your car. You really did it. You bought every candy that existed at the circus. Pop tarts, Nerds, Sour Patch, Twizzlers...everything.

In your eyes it was a good idea doing that. Not because you were obsessed with candies, you just wanted to distract Jerome - and it worked. He was laughing more, he was making jokes, making you smile. Exactly how you wanted it.

"I would say...hm...taste is 7 out of 10, consistence 8." Jerome said thinking "Makes 7.5"

"I agree," You said giving him the cotton candy "Now let's try this." You both took a bite in it.

"Taste is 8 out of 10, consistence is...6."

"Really? Just a 6? It's an 8 as a minimum." You frowned in disbelief. He can't be serious, can he?

"It's too fibrous."

"Well, that's the sense of cotton candy." You rolled your eyes "You aren't a cotton candy type, are you?"

"I just don't like this one. Its just made bad," He grabbed the pop tarts opening them "Now let's try these." And again you both took a bite in it.

"Fight me but 10 out of 10! Both criteria!" You insisted instantly.

"Agreed." Jerome nodded "I think they are my favorites."

"Hm," You pursed your lips thinking "I can't decide between Twizzlers and Pop Tarts." You really couldn't. You loved the frosted chocolate in Pop Tarts, and oh the cookie! The cookie was amazing. But Twizzlers... You loved the strawberry flavor. It was perfect! Not too sour, not too sweet, not bitter. Both were your favorite flavors.

"Let's try them again." Jerome eagerly grabbed the Twizzlers pack and ate some "Definitely Pop Tarts."

"Are you sure? They are both so... delicious and-..."

"I'm more than sure," Jerome interrupted me with a slight chuckle "Trust me, Pop Tarts are the best."

"Okay fine, Pop Tarts are the winner." You smirked eating up the rest of Pop Tarts. You admitted, he was right. Pop Tarts ARE the best.

"By the way," Jerome started scratching his head "Thank you."

"Anytime." you smiled kissing his soft and red lips. You accomplished what you wanted - he was happy again because of your silly idea "And next time we rate fast food."

"I'm in."

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lost-inthedream · 3 years

Text

Tea and warm compress

Pairing: Husband!Youngbin x female reader

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

Warnings: mentions of sex

Words count: 1.4k

Summary: Moving to a new apartment can be quite exhaustive. There are still so many belongings to be organized... But they definitely can wait! The reader gives Youngbin some extra care because he has a backache.

Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes that you might find.

It was starting to get late, more two cups and you would be emptied that cardboard box also. The new apartment had a bunch of cupboards fixed on its walls, which allowed you to organize your kitchen tools pretty well. Youngbin sorted the dishes on the shelf right over the cups. You were both close enough to touch one another while picking items out of the boxes and putting them in their new places.

"Don't you think that's enough for today, Binnie?" you asked as you noticed him placing the last dish on the top of a small pile.

"I dunno, love. We still have a few boxes to clear out" he answered with a subtle grimace and combing his bangs back, only to have them covering his forehead again once he lowers his hand.

You glanced at the intact cardboard boxes on the corner, but by the look on your face, he knew that they didn't bother you at all.

"We have time to work on them tomorrow." You lifted one eyebrow as if it were the smarter declaration ever. "I'm sure they won't escape this apartment if we don't grab them right now."

You closed the cupboard door in front of your husband to seal your decision, drawing some words from him.

"Oh! That's my girl" he freed a weary giggle and quickly pulled you to him so he could peck anywhere on your face. A playful smooch clicked on your forehead and then he let his hand go of your back.

You stepped just a millimeter backward without breaking eye contact with him and positioned your hands on your own waist and tilting your head. Youngbin contemplated your cocky loose smile. But you somehow killed the mood when a tired sigh came out of your lips.

Moving has really drained your energy. The process of packing everything you had took so much time in the previous days, then the two of you helped at placing everything inside a truck and finally at carrying all the stuff to the apartment where you would live from now on.

He suddenly noticed the favorite mugs of yours laying on the sink countertop. The items were decorated with matching motifs that suited both of you, quite cheesy.

"What about those mugs?" he pointed with his chin.

"Ah! We're gonna use them right now. I've already found the tea." You winked.

...

"I couldn't wait to sit like this on our couch." Youngbin sighed allowing his face to express exhaustion for the first time.

He leaned backward, his head rested on the couch cushion, which was out of place just a couple of hours before. He still held the mug between his hands, laid on his lap. In any case, having his eyes closed for a while seemed to be a priority.

"Why haven't you said that you were this tired?"

"I guess I have barely noticed it" he replied in a low tone and you could say that he had just figured it out.

His body had been already screaming it to him a bit earlier but he was so absorbed in other tasks that he couldn't hear anything. It was not his fault though, he was excited. The idea of transforming the new place into your actual home was his only thought and so was yours. Even now there was a soft smile making his lips prettier than they already were.

You moved carefully towards your husband, motioning him to accept your body on his lap without pouring the hot liquid on yourselves. That was as if you did some sort of acrobatics, but you succeed together without spilling a drop and now you were close and cozy.

He took a sip and tried to shift his position a bit but the movement made him whimper in pain.

"What's this?" you immediately asked.

"It's just my back" he tried to dismiss your worry but there was an alert signal already resonating inside of you.

Youngbin took the cup to his mouth again, the warmth fulfilling his insides. The gesture was repeated a few times as you observed him closely also drinking from your own mug.

"You're gonna pierce me with your pretty eyes or what?" he joked after a few sips in silence.

You grabbed the empty mug from his hand and equilibrated it on the arm of the couch beside him, along with yours. The patterns on them facing each other, exactly the way you and your loved one did now. You leaned to touch the tip of his nose with your lips causing a snap sound. His chin raised so he could make your mouths meet. It felt sweet and wholesome, the flavor of the two herbs you mixed together slow danced with Youngbin's natural taste. You separated your lips before you were not able to do it anymore.

"It's time to take care of your back, baby". You attempted to stand up.

"I'm alright, y/n. Don't worry, just stay here with me"

He was so exhausted that his arms wrapped loosely around your frame, though it was enough to stop you from letting go of him. He was pouty, a clear sign that he needed to be taken care of. It was true that you were also worn out, but still in better conditions than Youngbin.

"I'm so sorry to have to do more than just staying here but you need a relaxing shower. I'm gonna make you a warm compress as well."

He gave you his familiar side smile as feedback.

...

You had to look for your heat pack in the boxes you had not opened yet. Fortunately, you found it quite easily, which made you sigh in relief.

Youngbin took a long shower and you managed to have the compress ready by the time he left the bathroom. He walked into your shared room barefoot. The floor still fairly cold in the spring "I have no idea of where my slippers are" he complained.

"Same, but you know what? I don't care!"

He hummed in a good mood and carefully put his lazy body on the bed, lying on his stomach and turning his face to the right side, so his cheek got squished against the mattress. You comforted him with a delicate caress on the shoulder that got his eyes to close, like those smart flowers that shut for the nighttime.

"It hurts on your low back, right?"

He grunted positively, eyelids fluttering.

The compress was too hot to touch his skin directly so you used the soft cotton of his t-shirt as a barrier. Since it was now settled down on his back, his movements were restricted and you both did not have much to do other than talk. You did not do more than staying comfortably sitting at his right.

"Aren't you hurting too, love?" he asked reopening his eyes. His sleepy yet charming gaze inviting you to trace his facial features.

"Just from seeing you in pain," you replied seductively. "I didn't carry any heavy box because you're such a gentleman."

He did not know how to respond so he sweetly voiced an "I love you" while your warm hand caressed him on the face.

You shifted to lean down and whisper the same close to his ear, then you could not resist the urge to sniff on his neck. The fresh scent of his soap enchanted you, making you down your eyelids to the friction your nose made on him.

"You shouldn't provoke a man in my condition"

"Is this a complaint or a warning?" you asked playfully letting your lips brush on his earlobe on purpose.

"This is only a complaint tonight. I'm good at waiting."

You dragged one finger down his spine. A sloppy invisible line, coming to an end when it reached the compress.

"I can't wait" you signed.

"Can you move it a bit, baby?. It's like burning my skin" he politely asked interrupting the way your talk was growing steamy.

You took the pack from his low back and placed your hand flat instead, stroking the area tenderly for a few seconds.

"I'm probably waking up better tomorrow and I'm treating you right then. Like the queen you are."

"Don't worry, my king" you said low feeling funny with those words. you calmly unfolded a towel that laid next to you in order to make a new layer between Youngbin's skin and the hot pack. "We have a lot of time to make love in our new apartment. Or should I call it a kingdom?"

He giggled.

"Just home is fine" you decided.

#sf9 scenarios #sf9 imagines #sf9 writings #kpop writings #sf9 fanfic #sf9 fluff #sf9 smut #youngbin scenario #youngbin imagine #youngbin fluff #youngbin smut

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the-lady-writes-what · 3 years

Text

30. Katsuki Bakugou

Theme: Werewolf

Kinks: Hunter/prey play, rough outdoor sex, biting, oral (receiving), one spank, doggie style, cream pie, commando

All canonically underage characters are aged up. Katsuki Bakugo is 18+.

Masterlist

The wind howled through the trees. Or was it the wolf chasing you? You smiled either way at the chase. The wind in your face, the damp earth beneath your pounding feet, the blood rush surging through you. A full moon cast a silver glow on everything before your eyes. You smelled the air full of fir, pine, and unsoiled earth. It was the perfect night for a hunt, and you were the willing prey.

When Katsuki suggested it, he turned red in the face and on the tips of his ears, though he was eager to deny it. The full moon was a dangerous night for him, not knowing if he could control his urges. A werewolf-human couple could be deadly, even. You'd gotten used to the scratches, bites, and the strength he used to pin you down to the bed. Tonight was different. It was going to be different and unique in ways that you only began to imagine. Tonight wasn't just a full moon. It was a Blue Moon. It didn't happen very often, and nobody could remember when it last occurred auspiciously in October on Halloween night. While everyone else you knew was partying or getting drunk, you were being hunted down by your boyfriend.

You didn't want Katsuki to lose. The thrill of the chase was enough for you. That didn't stop you from making it harder for him to catch you. You wore a new perfume and washed your hair and body in heavily-fragranced shampoo and body wash. With the smell of the damp earth and evergreens swirling around you, you might have made it too tricky for Katsuki to catch a whiff of you.

However, Katsuki was a lot smarter than that. He wasn't going to pass up a Blue Moon and be tricked by such girly smells. If anything, covering yourself in perfume and fragrances most likely helped him sniff you out. That was why he was hot on your tail. Katsuki was so close you could hear him panting for breath.

Twigs snapped underfoot, leaving a trail for Katsuki to follow. You ducked behind a tree and used it swing your body in another direction. You laughed into the wind as you ran against it. Katsuki's heavy feet pounded the earth, not very far behind you.

"Just wait 'til I get my hands on you, Y/N! You're not gonna walk for a week afterward!"

"You have to catch me first!" You shouted back.

You jumped over a fallen tree and over thorny bushes. Outstretched branches snagged your clothes, leaving tears and rips that left your skin exposed to the night air. Katsuki sprinted closer. Once he got a little closer, you pushed your legs and ran ahead of him. You chuckled at his frustrated snarl. He almost had you in his grasp, but you weren't about to let the game end so soon. Not when you were both having so much fun.

Shouts and cries echoed on the wind. Friends and members of Katsuki's pack having their own fun. You bit your lip as you slid around yet another tree. Katsuki was once more catching up to you. Your heart and lungs couldn't take much more of it. Despite your desire to keep it up, your body was getting close to its breaking point. You whirled around a tree to stop and catch your breath. Katsuki seemed to have lost you in the bramble because you couldn't hear his footsteps chasing after you anymore.

Sweat beaded down your face. The night wasn't cold, but you almost wished you had a sweater. Your skin felt clammy to the touch, and if you didn't get somewhere warm soon, you were in for an uncomfortable night. You clenched your toes to ease some of the aches you felt. Once your heart slowed to a steady rate, you leaned off of the tree and sprang back into the woods.

You didn't get very far. Katsuki had been waiting behind another tree. His patience rewards him with you practically springing into his arms. He grabbed your forearms with a firm but not a brutish grasp.

"Caught you," Katsuki snickered, offering you a devilish smirk. "What are you going to do now?"

"Beg for mercy?" You jokingly replied.

Your response was enough to make your boyfriend tilt his head back and laugh. Katsuki gently pushed you against a nearby tree. Slivers of moonlight heightened the ash-blonde tufts of hair on his newly sprouted wolf ears. His eyes were a darker shade of crimson, and they stared right into you. Claws carefully caressed your skin and tugged at your ruined clothes. You both were splattered with dirt and a little bit of blood.

"Kiss me," said Katsuki. Only it wasn't a request. It was an order.

You obliged and wrapped your hands behind his neck. You pressed your cool, moist lips against his warm ones. Tongues fought for dominance, a battle Katsuki always won. He shoved you against the tree while running his hands up and down and over your body. One hand found purchase on your hips with the other preoccupied knotting his hand in your hair. Katsuki gave your hair a soft tug and exposed your neck to him. He wasted no time leaning down and gracing your neck with feather-soft kisses. Fangs nibbled on your sensitive skin. You arched your back to press your body close to his.

"Are you hungry for me, Y/N?" Katsuki thumbed the button of your jeans.

"Always," you answered with a needy whisper.

"What do you think I should do about it, hm?" Katsuki bit into your shoulder, causing you to moan.

He suckled your skin and nibbled on your flesh. Katsuki quickly switched sides and gave the other side of your neck the same treatment. Claws tore at your clothes. Katsuki pulled at your torn and muddied t-shirt like it was tissue paper. When the night air hit your chest, the nipples on your breasts became taut before Katsuki even touched them. Goosebumps crossed your skin like a fever.

"No bra?" Katsuki flicked open the button to your pants and delved his hand down your crotch. His sharp brow rose. "No panties either?"

"I was expecting you to catch me." You smirked.

"Were you now?" Katsuki pulled the zipper down and coaxed the hem of your jeans down your hips.

"I expected nothing less from the great Katsuki Bakugo," you said.

"Tch," Katsuki feigned annoyance. "As if you had a chance. Smellin' like a fucking garden. It's like you wanted to get caught." He was careful with his claws as he rubbed your clit. You moaned at the touch of his warm hand against your bundle of nerves.

"Maybe…AH! That was…the idea. Oh, my god. Right there!"

"Slick for me already? We haven't even started yet!"

Katsuki was right; you were absolutely soaked. The thrill of the chase and the anticipation Katsuki had been building up all week (not to mention the abstinence forced upon you to make the Blue Moon extra special) left you an excitable mess. You knew before Katsuki even touched you that you soaked through your jeans. Katsuki had to be careful not to cut you as he massaged your clit with just the pads of his fingers.

"I need to know what my meal tastes like tonight," Katsuki growled. Katsuki hefted you over his shoulder like a potato sack. He shimmied your pants down to your ankles and shucked them off. He threw them unto the ground before laying down on a pile of fallen leaves next to them. Grabbing your hands, Katsuki set them behind your knees and pushed your legs apart. Even in the shadows, you saw his tail wag.

"Don't fucking let go until I make you come, got it?" Katsuki ordered. Hazy with lust, you nodded.

"Good."

Katsuki bent his head towards your weeping cunt. His rough tongue lapped at your wet folds before diving in between them. You dug your nails into your legs as you clung unto them for dear life. Katsuki slurped with lewd eagerness. He drove his tongue in and out, stimulating your walls into quivering around him.

"Does it feel good, baby? Do you like being eaten alive?" "Y-Yeah," you moaned.

"Then, there's more where that came from!" Katsuki sat up long enough to rip his shirt off. He returned to the spot between your thighs.

His lips and mouth worked your pussy into a fit and slurped at the wet mess your body was making. Your juices spilled all over the ground underneath you. Your legs trembled with the effort of his tongue against your clit.

"K-Katsuki!"

"Feel like you're gonna come?" Katsuki murmured against your cunt. He devoured it like a starving man.

"I'm so close!

"Then I better finish you off. Gotta get you prepared for my fat cock, don't I?"

Katsuki wasted no more time with words. He drove his tongue like a surrogate cock between your folds. You struggled to keep your legs up and open for him, but it was so hard to concentrate while he lapped at your juices. He dragged his thumb across your clit while digging his tongue into your pussy. With a few flicks, you spiraled quickly. When Katsuki finally raised his head, his mouth was covered in your essence, dripping in it. You panted for breath as you came down from your high, interrupted only by Katsuki pulling down his fly and pushed his jeans down to his hips. You weren't the only one who chose to go commando. His proud member was fisted in his hand. Pre-cum oozed out of the tiny slit on the blunt head. Katsuki leered at the hazy eyes you were making at his cock.

"It's going all the way in, Y/N. You're going to fucking enjoy this," said Katsuki.

He swatted your hands away from your legs and rolled you unto your stomach. You grasped at fallen leaves as you felt your hips being shifted off the ground. Katsuki lined up his cock then slowly impaled you on it. Your cunt was wet and warm and more than ready for him. You dug your nails into the dampened earth to compensate for the sheer pleasure shooting up your spine. Katsuki was fully seated and buried inside you.

"That's my girl. You're so tight for me." Katsuki gave your ass a playful smack. "You're gonna howl for me, won't you?"

"Fuck, yes." You groaned into the first thrust of his hips.

Indeed, Katsuki had you howling. There was no place for you to muffle the sounds you were making since you'd rather not have dead leaves in your mouth. Skin slammed against skin as Katsuki rammed himself deep inside your body. He was stretching you open while pounding you into the dirt. Over, over, and over again, he was buried in your cunt and sealed it up. That didn't stop the fluid gushing out of you; the more he attacked your cock. While fucking you, Katsuki had very little to say, at least in human speech. In this form, half-beast, and half-man, more of the animal side of him came out to play. Claws dug into the flesh of your hips while his teeth nibbled on your shoulders. You heard the brushing of his tail as it swung behind him. He was incredibly strong.

Katsuki grunted like an animal while beating your insides. He plunged his cock as far as it would go. You met him thrust for thrust and howl for howl. The pair of you were little better than dogs in heat. You panted and stuck your tongue out like one. Katsuki snapped his hips harder into you and pulled you close.

"Fuck, fuck," Katsuki canted. "I'm coming."

His pace became erratic. The thick cock inside you found your G-spot, which sent you over the edge again. You cried out his name as you gushed around him. Your body twitched from the impact of coming so hard. Katsuki fell right behind you, burying himself deep so that the ribbons of come shooting inside your walls had nowhere else to go. You remained stuck like this for what seemed like forever. He pulled out eventually against your wishes. You loved the feeling of him buried there and felt empty with him gone. Katsuki helped you back into your jeans and shoved his t-shirt over your head.

"Like hell any extra is gonna get a good look at your tits. These bad girls are for my eyes only, got it?" Katsuki came up from behind, wrapped his arms around you, and gave you a hug, which was really an excuse to grope your chest.

"Whatever you say, Katsuki," you chuckled.

#my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha smut #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #bnha smut #reader fic #kinktober #kinktober week #kinktober my hero academia edition #katsuki #bakugo #katsuki bakugo #Bakugou x reader #Werewolf!Katsuki #AU #minors dni #Minors begone

415 notes · View notes

thatslikely · 3 years

Text

Fireball - F.W.

Fireball- Fred Weasley x fem!reader (unspecified house)

Warnings: food and allusions to sex

Word Count: 3k

A/N: did I go overboard? yes. do I want to go to an amusement park with Freddie? yes.

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name and Y/L/N is Your Last Name

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @probably-peeves @anchoeritic @theweasleytwinsgirl @horrorxweasley

if you wanted to be added, send me a dm or ask!

“Sweetheart, have you got everything all packed up? I hope you didn’t accidentally pack any Canary Creams this time!” Fred jested from the room across the hall of the Burrow as you eagerly stuffed various waterproof jackets, sticky bottles of sunscreen that smelled pungently of hot summer afternoons spent loitering by the lake, and stacks of Muggle ‘cash’ into a small backpack.

“I think so. And do you really have to bring up that one time every time I’m in charge of snacks?” Zipping up the pockets of the sack, you gave it a satisfactory pat.

“Don’t worry, I thought you still looked cute, even as a bright yellow birdie.” You were helpless to stop your eyes from rolling in your skull with a sarcastic grumble.

As Fred sauntered over to you, arms extended and ready to give you a bear hug, you extolled, “are you excited? Your first time at an amusement park!” His muscular arms tightly wrapped around yours’; so tightly, in fact, that you lifted off the ground, still wrapped his playful yet loving embrace like a familiar blanket of comfort. The shirt handsomely draped over his figure smelled like home; of the common room after the crackling fireplace ceased, the deserted aisles of a fluorescent convenient store at midnight, burnt popcorn kernels smoking from the microwave.

“Of course I’m excited, Y/N. You’ve only blabbered about this place since the beginning of time. It better live up to the stories you’ve told!” he said cheerfully into your ear, his warm breath fanning your face, causing electric shocks of thrill to pang every one of your nerves.

“Today’s gonna be so much fun!” Your chest fluttered as Fred gently set you down like a prized china doll, throwing the stuffed backpack over his broad shoulders.

“I hope the fun carries over into tonight, too.” Fred painted a devilishly handsome suggestive smirk on his features, barely fighting off the urge to buckle your knees with his signature wink.

“Oh shove off, Freddie!” you giggled as you friskily swatted your boyfriend’s bicep. “Let’s just focus on the park for now, we can worry about that later.”

His intoxicating lips pressed a small peck to your forehead before he asked, “You ready to go have the best day ever with your impossibly amazing, handsome, clever, boyfriend?”

“Yes, Fred,” you smiled as he unsheathed his spiky-handled wand, “yes!”

With a quick, pickle-jar-lid pop! you and Fred were instantly engrossed in the eye of a large crowd of joyous Muggle families scurrying around in circles reminiscent of the windy spirals of a cyclone. Most grinning adults had a tiny, chubby hand gripped in their palm, and most of the bubbly kids had a drippy strawberry popsicle in theirs’.

The familiar plaza surrounding you flooded your heart with comfort and security. Wheeled food stands with bright, enthusiastic neon signs formed street-like pathways; the distant screams from speedy roller coaster riders melded with the thematic music echoing from speakers.

“We’re here!” you squealed, running over to a stand to grab a neatly labeled map of the park, despite knowing its layout like the back of your hand. Fred had been prone to getting lost before, especially in non-magical places, such as malls or airports (We have a lost boy named Fred Weasley, lost at gate thirty-six, and he’s looking for his, er- significant other, Y/N Y/L/N. He’s sixteen years old, quite tall, and has bright red hair, impossible to miss. Please come pick him up at the travel counter, thank you). You were tempted to tease him as you handed him the map, but considering the high possibility he had some sort of prank secretly stashed on his person, you wouldn’t dare risk it.

Fred uttered a “whoa,” as he took in his surroundings with enchanted, curious umber eyes, “this place is absolutely wicked.” His gaze then downturned, scanning the map, intently awaiting the vibrant, printed graphics to spring to life like pamphlets in the Wizarding World do.

“The map’s not going to start moving, if that’s what you’re waiting for, silly,” you teased, pointing to your location on the detailed unfolded brochure.

“Pfft, I knew that.” His insincere arrogance didn’t help to conceal the slight pink tone that heated his cheeks at all. Pure-blood wizards were truly an enigma.

You ignored his unsuccessful cover-up with an expression that screamed, ‘yeah, right’, as you explained to him (a bit condescendingly) like a schoolchild, “we’re right here, at the entrance. There’s a list of the rides, bathrooms, shops, and places to eat off to the side.”

The blazing sun overhead coated your surroundings with tepid, dandelion-hued light, and the relaxed summer breeze softly ruffled your flowy strands of hair, as well as Fred’s. He quickly combed through his fiery mane with his fingers, a smirk quirking his lips at the promise of so many exciting things to do and see.

“We’re gonna start off with my favorite ride ever: The Fireball.”

Fred dropped his jaw to respond, but you wasted no time maneuvering to the beloved orange scream-producer. You hastily snatched his large hand before weaving him through the cluster of people, scuttling towards a looming bright, tiger-orange arc towering above everything in the distance: the peak of the Fireball. The Fireball was the single best roller coaster ever constructed: its seats were comfortable and secure, its extensive track was fluid and fast, and the excellently paired loops and corkscrews were enough to spark terror in even the bravest riders.

You had been savoring the thrill of the beloved flame-colored coaster for as long as your crown had finally surpassed the minimum-height indicating green line on the sign before its intimidating crimson gates so many years ago.

Tears streamed horizontally across your face, a painful, open-mouthed smile etched onto your features. Screamed giggles echoed from your toothy mouth as you firmly gripped the bar in front of you, letting the rapid twists and turns of the coaster envelop you wholly. By the time the track had slowed and looped back to the station, your head was spinning, allowing you to barely think, let alone walk. Your hair was fluffed out like a bird’s nest but you couldn’t care less. All you knew was, you had to ride Fireball again.

No other coaster could even dream to compete with the beast of an attraction; it drew you in like a magnet, and hadn’t let you go since. Every other ride just felt inexplicably off in a way that even the most eloquent weren’t capable of articulating. And you finally got to share your favorite coaster with the person you undoubtedly love the most: Fred.

“Freddie, are you ready to go on the best roller coaster of all time? It’ll blow your mind!” you excitedly asked, pulling him towards the coaster’s spaghetti-twisted track. The look of pure bliss that exuded from your body was so, so difficult to say no to. There was something so child-like about your pupil’s vivacious glow; it reminded him of the days so long ago when his biggest stressor was whether he should pull a prank on an unsuspecting Ron or Percy next.

But an equally childish emotion struck his heart: fear. Fred Weasley feared nothing. A furious Umbridge, maniacal Dark Wizards, and even speedy rogue Bludgers wouldn’t even make him flinch. A roller coaster however, was different. Whether it was the sketchy-looking track held together by metal bolts, the loopty-loop that he would surely fall out of, or the fact that it was made by hands, not magic, inexplicable waves of nervousness flooded his body, causing his heart to boom faster and louder in his chest and his palms to condensate with sweat.

“Hey, uh, angel, it’s actually getting pretty hot, don’t ya think? Why don’t we go have some ice cream first, my treat?” Fred nervously asked, an unshakable stutter in his words. He delved into his pocket, revealing fistfull of bills and coins, eagerly looking for an ice cream stand. “I hope you know where the ice cream is?”

“‘Course I do, Freddie. The best cones are this way, follow me.” You giddily guided the lanky ginger through twists and turns, passing a multitude of fun (and tamer) rides Fred had never seen before. At long last, the two of you reached a small, dark and light blue-striped stand with a snowman holding a cone of strawberry deliciousness hung out front. The best ice cream in the whole park.

While the prospect of romantically sharing a cone of ice cream with Fred sounded tooth-rottingly sweet, the both of you were a tad too stubborn to be willing to share a single frozen treat. He did generously give you a lick of his drippy strawberry cone, however, and you relented to his pitiful puppy-dog eyes and quivering lip, letting him have a bite of yours’.

The ice cream almost instantaneously sent Fred back to summers at the Burrow when he was still equally adorable, but a far cry from who he was now. He was short, only an inch or two taller than Ron, his grin was crooked, and the bridge of his nose was dotted with bright orange freckles. Every cherished summer afternoon was spent slashing in the creek, throwing mud pies at Percy, digging up worms in the dirt, and daring Ron to bite into a cattail to see what it tasted like (that didn’t end well).

Once the delicious cream safely resided in your stomachs, you eagerly asked if the vermillion-haired boy across from you was ready to go on the ride of his life. When he responded with an inscrutable expression, the trips of his ears pricking with nervousness, you added persuasively, “c’mon Freddie, the line’s gonna get long if we wait much longer. The park’s filling up fast.”

“Hey! I have an idea. Instead of waiting in a boring line that’ll take forever,” -he exaggerated each syllable- “I could try to win you a prize at one of those booths over there. How does a giant teddy sound?” The grin on his face was impossible to renounce.

“Only if I get to play too. We’ll see whether you’re gonna be the one lugging around a huge stuffed bear!”

Fred yanked you to the nearest carnival game like an eager golden retriever, which evidently was a vibrant water gun race. The object of the game was to position your water gun to hit the target perfectly, and whoever held the jet until the quota was filled won.

Fred slapped a few bills onto the counter proudly, and the Muggle worker eyed him confusedly, before handing back a stack of greens to Fred. “It’s only five to play, sir.”

Fred took the vacant stool to the right to you, eyes glued on the prize: a large, bubble-gum pink teddy bear. Before he could even learn how to play, the bell rang, and water spewed out of the guns in front of you. Easily, you lined up the stream to the orange target before you, causing varicolored lights to flash and spiral., clashing the darkening sky above. Fred, however, wasn’t so lucky; he accidentally drenched the less-than-happy carny’s clownish uniform. The dripping employee sharply handed you the teddy before grumbling for the both of you to leave, preferably immediately.

“Ha! I won!” you boasted, rubbing the plushie in Fred’s amused face as you walked hand-in-hand past coasters and rides. He chucked before grabbing it from your hands, offering, “I’ll hold your prize for you, Miss Champion-water-gunner.”

“Okay, let’s go ride a coaster! I’m sure you know which one I wanna ride by now.” However, Fred was still nervous as ever. He’d never admit it, so naturally, he came up with every possible excuse.

“I- erm, why don’t we go ride that spinny one over there?”

“The carousel? That’s a toddler’s ride!”

“If I want to ride a horse-y, I will ride a horse-y!” Fred swooped you up in his arms, carrying you to the roped-off queue bridal-style while you flailed your arms, your face reddening with embarrassment.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself seated on a jewel-embellished caramel horse, one of your hands gripped onto the golden pole lifting your pony up and down in a galloping motion. Your other hand was intertwined with Fred’s, who was perched on a mahogany horse draped in orange and green carpets and tassels beside you. Astonishment swam in his cocoa pools; his toe tapped in the stirrup to the old-fashioned circus music playing, he fiddled with the plastic emeralds of the horse’s bit, and he gave you the most innocent, heart-melting grin you’ve ever seen.

Once the bejeweled horses’ hopping halted, and the melodic recording of the march slowly faded, the sun crept below the horizon, granting the prussian blue air a chilly nip; it looked as if a Monet painting were suspended above the millions of flashing cabochon bulbs.

“Freddie, it's getting dark. We have time for probably one more ride,” you said, not failing to note the lively glow drain from Fred’s rosy cheeks and faint saffron freckles.“What’s wrong?”

“I uhh… I didn’t want to tell you this before, but…” -he scratched the nape of his neck with furrowed brows- “I’m scared of roller coasters.” Fred cracked a nervous side-mouthed smile. “Something about it just… I feel like I’m gonna fall out!”

“Oh, Freddie, I had no idea,” you said apologetically, resting your hand on his flanneled shoulder. The coruscating glow of the kaleidoscopic lights highlighted the fearful darting of his pupils.

“I wanna ride Fireball, it looks sick, but I’m more scared than I’d care to admit.”

“Here it’s okay, we can go on a smaller coaster if you want. Rocket’s always a classic, too,” you suggested, gesturing towards a short, blue and silver arch suffused in colorful carnival irradiance.

“No, I need to face my fear! Let’s go ride Fireball, darling. No buts!” Fred ushered you towards the Fireball, despite not having a clue about where it’s spaghetti bowl of track was grounded.

“It’s just like riding a broom! More safe, actually.” Fred lifted the chains of the queue for the both of you to mischievously slip under; you were pleasantly surprised to see the line was relatively short.

“Oh by the way, you better not tell anyone that I, Fred Weasley, star Quidditch player and most popular student, actually can get scared, or expect a foul prank in your future.” Fred embraced you with a hug from behind, not shy of showing some more risque displays of affection to the other teenaged riders to cement the unwavering fact that you were his, and only his.

“Well someone doesn’t seem so nervous anymore,” you teased, poking his chiseled chest playfully.

“What can I say? You’re too distracting.”

You gave him a sarcastic simper as you pulled him by the collar closer and closer to the loading station which was packed with workers and thrill-seekers alike. Fred continued to stay tricksy, a permanent smug smirk upturning his lips as his hands stayed glued to your body, in one place or another.

At long last, the mechanical locking of lap bars and revving of coaster-cars stiffened the slightly cocky Weasley (his nervous form reminded you oddly enough of a breadstick). You gave him more compassionate touches of affection, combing your fingers through his messy hair and tracing small circles on his back, humming.

When the menacing silver gates opened, allowing the two of you to climb inside the fire-truck red carts, Fred looked as if he would explode at any given moment. You grabbed his large, defined hand, your thumb soothingly rubbing vertical strokes on his metacarpal. Fred’s knees were nearly level with your chest once he was securely seated; the lap bar was generous with your wiggle room, but you didn’t mind, as long as Fred felt safe.

Fred’s hand’s grip was tight on yours’; you could feel his heart pump through each of his branchy veins rapidly. He asked seconds before the train was off to slowly climb the first daunting hill, “promise me you won’t let go?”

“I’ll never let you go, promise.”

The next approximately two minutes of ride time were a fantastic blur, just as magical as anything the Wizarding World had to offer. Streaks of golden lights shone around snippets of swirling orange tracks that subjected your body to addicting G force. Your weightless figure flew up and down serpent-esque hills and valleys, you were firmly pressed into your seat, hair hanging down in a flame shape on loopty-loops, and on corkscrews you swear your insides were rearranged.

As promised, you didn’t let go of Fred, in fact the opposite. On the first steep drop, he mustered the courage to hold your intertwined fingers above his head as he emitted a bellowing scream of raw pleasure. He submitted to the following expertly engineered twists and turns, letting his lanky body swish and fly at the mercy of the ride. It felt like a fierce match of Quidditch to him, except for the fact that his eyes were scrunched closed with joy, not open and alert for Bludgers.

Once Fireball came to an impossibly speedy ending, reality smacked you like a bus. As you got up from your seat to exit the dock, your legs wobbled and shook due to the copious amounts of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You concernedly surveyed Fred, who graciously supported you out of the station.

You peeled your awe tingling lips open to ask how he felt, and almost physically, he uttered a single, “wicked!”

“How could I have been ever scared of that? I feel like my bones are shaking inside of me!” he managed to exuberantly smile. He swished his arms back and forth pure joy flooding through him, prickling at his every nerve.

“I’m so glad you had fun, Freddie.”

“Thanks for helping me, y’know, have fun, let loose. I feel alive in a way I never have before, it’s insane!”

“I think we may be able to squeeze in one more ride. Wanna go for round 2?”

Fred pressed a rough, passionate kiss to your unsuspecting lips, his electric taste overwhelming you, coating every inch of yourself with red-hot desire, a new and welcome sensation that would linger for weeks.

“You know it.”

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beifongsss · 4 years

Text

playing with fire pt. 5 [sokka]

Pairing: Sokka x reader

Summary: You’re a Fire Nation citizen who saves Sokka and Katara from some angry villagers. Aang “convinces” you to come along with them, finding your knowledge of the nation useful. Not everything is smooth sailing though as both Water Tribe siblings have their doubts about you.

this will be a series :D this takes place during The Chase!

w.c.~5.1k

prologue. one. two. three. four.

.masterlist.

Toph was a breath of fresh air. She was unapologetically herself, and you loved it.

However for Katara, it was a little stressful.

“Hey you guys picked a great campsite!” Toph exclaimed, digging her toes into what she thought was grass. “The grass is so soft!”

You snickered at Sokka’s displeased expression as he looked down at the ground before turning to face Toph. “Sorry shortcake, that’s not grass you’re standing on. Appa’s shedding.”

“Oh gross!” Katara exclaimed, raising her foot as she examined the fur.

“That’s not gross!” Aang chirped. “It’s just a part of spring! You know, rebirth, flowers blooming, and Appa gets a new coat!”

“Ah, the beauty of spring,” Katara replied sarcastically, earning a muffled laugh from you. Aang gave you a betrayed look and you simply shrugged, trying to keep the smile off of your face.

“She’s right,” you said, looking at the Air Nomad apologetically. “It’s a little disgusting.”

Appa chose that moment to sneeze, sending up plumes of fur all around you. You coughed lightly, feeling some of the fur land on your tongue.

“Stop! Appa, stop! Ugh!” Katara cried out, trying to brush off the fur that now clung to her clothes.

“It’s not that bad Katara,” Sokka said, his back facing Katara as he bent over. He turned around proudly, meeting Katara’s unsettled face. “It makes a great wig!”

Katara looked at you expectantly, a disgusted look on her face. Her expression dropped when she saw you laughing and egging her brother on before bending down and creating a mustache out of fur.

“Look! It also makes a great mustache!” you exclaimed, causing Aang to laugh along with you. Sokka looked at you dreamily, happy that the two of you shared a sense of humor.

“And a great beard!” Aang added, stroking the beard he had created. Katara looked at all of you with disappointment before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“I’m just glad we have another girl in the group, because you three are disgusting,” Katara said, brushing off the last of the fur from her clothes.

“Excuse me, does anyone have a razor?” Toph asked innocently, walking up behind you. “Because I’ve got some hairy pits!”

The three of you cackled loudly as Toph raised her arms, revealing the fur she had stuffed into her sleeves. Katara shook her head as she watched the four of you, a smile tugging at her lips. Aang chose that exact moment to sneeze, flying back into Appa’s side and sending up another cloud of fur. This just caused you all to laugh even harder, Sokka patting your back when you breathed in some fur. Even Katara chuckled lowly, and eventually you began to set up camp.

Sokka was out looking for firewood as you and Aang set up the tent. Katara sat a few yards away from you, getting started on dinner. Toph was lounging on the ground a few feet away from Katara, lazily chewing on a piece of wheat.

“So, you and Sokka?” Aang asked, drawing your attention to him. Sokka entered the clearing as if on cue, walking over to the weak flame near Katara and setting the firewood down next to her. He straightened and shot you and Aang a confused look, noticing your glances. You looked away immediately, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered in response, rolling your eyes when Aang giggled.

“We can all tell that you like each other,” Aang said, unfolding the tarp. “He even got you that necklace to show you how he feels!”

You absentmindedly reached for the pendant that hung delicately from your neck, running your fingertips over it as you smiled at Sokka. The Water Tribe boy noticed and shot you a dazzling smile in return before turning to watch over the pot Katara had left unattended.

“And we can all tell that you like him back,” Aang said casually, smiling when you opened your mouth to reply but shut it, knowing he was right. “I think you should go for it. It’s not like he’s gonna say no.”

The conversation stopped before you could reply as a loud rumbling reached your ears. You turned to see Toph laying under an earth tent, Katara fuming as she walked away. You exchanged a worried look with Aang before continuing to set the tarp up in silence, occasionally shooting a glance at Katara who seemed to be trying to control her temper.

There was a tense atmosphere surrounding the campsite for the rest of the afternoon and all of you tiptoed around Katara as you tried to not set her off. Things only got worse when Katara attempted to apologize and Toph made a comment about how tired she seemed. Katara’s eyes twitched for the next few minutes. Night fell soon enough and you found yourself drifting off to sleep, only to be awoken by Toph’s voice.

“There’s something coming towards us!”

“What are you talking about, shortcake,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes as you sat up. Toph gave you an irritated look.

“What is it?” Aang asked.

“It feels like an avalanche, but not an avalanche,” Toph replied, pressing her hand against the ground.

“Your powers of perception are frightening,” Sokka said sarcastically, smiling down at you when you hit him softly.

“Should we leave?” Katara asked worriedly.

“Better safe than sorry,” Aang replied, already packing up his stuff. The rest of you followed his lead, climbing onto Appa and taking off. You sat next to Sokka, digging your face into the crook of his neck as you tried to relax. Sokka could feel his heartbeat speed up as he looked down at you, blushing when he noticed Aang’s knowing gaze.

“What is that thing?” Katara asked, gazing at something in the distance. Sokka followed her gaze, being careful not to disturb your position. Down below, a tank-like machine was making its way through the land. No one answered Katara and soon enough, they landed.

Toph was the first one to hop down from Appa, sighing in relief as her “sight” returned to her. “Ah, sweet land! See you guys in the morning!”

“Actually, can you help us unload?” Katara asked as you all made your way down to the ground.

“Really?” Toph asked in disbelief. “You need me to unload Sokka’s funky-smelling sleeping bag?”

You let out a laugh at Toph’s words, biting your lip when Sokka looked at you in mock-anger.

“Well, yeah,” Katara said lightly. “That and everything else. You’re a part of our team now and-”

“Look! I didn’t ask you to help unload my stuff,” Toph interrupted Katara. “I’m carrying my own weight!”

“That’s not the point!” Katara cried angrily, taking a step towards Toph. “Ever since you’ve joined us, you’ve been nothing but selfish and unhelpful!”

“What?” Toph screeched. “Look here, sugar queen. I gave up everything I had so that I could teach Aang earthbending. So don’t you talk to me about being selfish!”

“Should we stop them?” you asked sleepily, leaning against Sokka’s side. Sokka looked down at you, smiling as you yawned before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. Aang and Sokka flinched as Toph raised another earth tent around herself, blocking Katara out.

“Maybe we should do something,” Aang said nervously.

Sokka looked at his sister before glancing as you, your arms now wrapped tightly around him as well as you rested your head on his chest. “Nah, I’m fine just watching the show.”

Aang smiled at the sight in front of him before walking away, ready to try and calm Katara down. Sokka gently led you over to the sleeping bags, gently setting you down before turning to walk away. Your hand shot out, grasping the sleeve of his shirt and bringing him to a stop.

“Stay,” you mumbled, your words slurred by sleep. “You’re warm.”

Sokka looked around hesitantly before letting himself be dragged down by you. He settled into the space next to you and you automatically drifted closer to him, burying your face into his chest once again. His arms wrapped around you, bringing you close and causing you to sigh softly as you felt his warmth envelope you.

Of course, good things never last long and as soon as Sokka found himself drifting off to sleep, the ground began to shake.

“Hey!” he called out, sitting up and looking at Toph. “How’s a guy supposed to sleep with all this earthquaking going on?”

“The thing is back!” Toph cried, letting her tent fall.

“Well how far is it?” Sokka mumbled, laying back down and holding you close. “Maybe we can close our eyes for just a few more minutes.”

“I don’t think so Sokka,” Aang replied sadly, noticing the smoke cloud that seemed to be getting closer.

You whimpered softly as Sokka untangled himself from you, earning yourself a soft look from the Water Tribe boy. “Sorry (Y/N/N), we have to go.”

You all boarded Appa, eyes drooping as you flew over the mountainous terrain. You leaned against Sokka yet again, curling up on the saddle with your head in his lap. His hands ran through your hair, lulling you into a hazy, half-asleep state.

“Seriously, what is that thing?” Katara asked.

“And how does it keep finding us?” Toph added.

“I don’t know,” Aang said, the bags under his eyes more prominent. “But this time, I’m going to make sure we lose it.”

Appa flew a great distance before landing. Sokka immediately climbed off of the sky bison, spreading a blanket and laying down with you as the two of you ignored the arguing. Aang was playing mediator again, trying to calm the two girls down while asking the right questions.

“Come on guys, there's something after us and we don't even know what or who it is.”

“It could be Zuko,” Katara mumbled. “We haven’t seen him since the North Pole.”

“Who’s Zuko?” Toph asked, her interest piqued.

“Just some angry freak with a ponytail who’s tracked us all over the world,” Sokka muttered in response, rolling on to his back when you sat up.

“What’s wrong with ponytails, ponytail?” Katara asked teasingly. You bit back a smile.

“This,” Sokka said, pointing at his hair. “Is a warrior’s wolf tail!”

“Well it certainly tells the other warriors you’re fun and perky!” Katara joked. You couldn’t hold your laugh back this time.

“Zuko is the prince of the Fire Nation,” you explained to Toph. “He was banished by his father, the Fire Lord, and sent on a quest to capture the Avatar.”

“How do you know that, princess?” Toph asked.

“Gossip travels quickly in the colonies, shortcake,” you replied, laying back down and curling into Sokka’s side. The peace and quiet didn’t last long and soon enough, you found yourselves standing on the edge of the cliff. Aang wanted to see who was in the tank-like machine, and so you found yourselves staring unamusedly as three komodo-rhinos emerged from the machine.

“It’s Azula,” you whispered, suddenly wide awake. “And Mai and Ty Lee.”

“We can take them,” Toph said, suddenly determined. “Four on three.”

“Actually Toph, there’s five of us,” Sokka said, annoyed.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t count you,” Toph replied, not sounding sorry at all. “You know, no bending and all.”

“(Y/N) can’t bend either!” Sokka proclaimed, ignoring Top’s questioning gaze. “And I can still fight.”

“Okay, four on three, plus Sokka,” Toph said, a smirk on her face.

Sokka’s groan was ignored as Toph tried to slow down the girls to give everyone enough time to reach Appa. The sky bison flew away immediately, missing a plume of blue fire from Azula. You stayed in the air for a while, all of you wincing when the sun began to rise. The tiredness was getting to you and you leaned against the saddle, closing your eyes for just a minute.

The next time you opened your eyes you were falling.

“Aang!” you yelled loudly, waking Toph.

“What’s going on?” Toph asked frantically.

“Appa fell asleep!” Aang yelled back, a panicked look on his face. He did his best to wake the sky bison up as the rest of you clung onto the saddle. You reached for Toph, pulling her close as she tried to not panic. Appa leveled out for a few seconds as Aang managed to wake him up. He flew closer and closer to the ground, the exhaustion getting to him before he crashed into the ground.

You landed on the ground roughly, toppling off of the saddle. You were still clutching Toph in your arms, letting her go as she scrambled to her feet.

“You okay, shortcake?” you asked warily, knowing that being in the air was daunting for Toph.

“Just peachy, princess,” she grumbled back. “Thanks.”

You didn’t reply, instead focusing on Katara who was now back to yelling. “Of course we could’ve gotten some sleep earlier, if Toph didn’t have such issues.”

The earthbender went red with anger before stomping over to Katara. “What?!”

Sokka sidled up to you as the argument grew. “What should we do?”

“I don’t know anymore,” you groaned, flopping onto the ground. You listened lazily as Toph insulted Appa, blaming his shedding as the reason Azula kept finding you. You couldn’t help but agree with her; Appa was losing a lot of fur.

“That’s it!” Toph suddenly yelled. “I’m out of here!”

You shot up straight, running to stop the girl. “Toph, wait. Don’t do this.”

“No!” Toph said, pushing you to the side. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

She stomped away, sending a wall of rock up behind her to prevent anyone from going after her. You turned to Aang, a disbelieving expression on your face. “Aang! Why?”

Aang sat on the ground, upset. “What did I just do? I can’t believe I just yelled at my earthbending teacher! Now she’s gone.”

“I know,” Katara said sorrowfully. “We’re all just trying to get used to each other. And I was so mean to her.”

“Yeah, you two were pretty much jerks,” Sokka said, coming up beside you and throwing his arm over your shoulder.

Katara gave him a dull look. “Thanks Sokka.”

“No problem!”

“We need to find Toph and apologize,” you said, meeting Aang’s sad gaze.

“Okay, but what are we going to do about the tank full of dangerous ladies chasing us?” Sokka asked.

Aang bent down and picked up a handful of fur before letting the wind blow it away. “I have a plan.”

The plan consisted of you giving Appa a bath.

The sky bison grunted happily as you and Sokka brushed him, Aang and Katara bending water to douse the bison. Momo was lounging around on your head, occasionally flying away when the water got too close to him. Appa was napping happily as he sat in the river, letting the four of you do your thing. Once you were done, the four of you lounged on the riverbank, watching as Appa dried himself off.

“Toph was right,” Aang said, breaking the silence. “The fur was leaving a trail right to us. But now that he’s clean, no more trail!”

“Are you sure he’s okay to fly?” Katara asked quietly. You all turned to look at the sky bison, his eyes drooping with exhaustion.

“He'll be fine as long as we leave his saddle and all our stuff here,” Aang said. “I'm going to use Appa's fur to make a fake trail to lead the tank off-course. (Y/N) will come with me and you two will lead them away!”

The four of you separated as you readied yourselves, with you walking down to the river to splash water on your face to wake yourself up. You stiffened as you felt someone stand next to you, relaxing when you realized it was Sokka.

“Stay safe out there, okay?” Sokka stated, his eyes peering intensely into yours. You nodded silently.

“You too,” you finally replied, trying to calm your heart as you noticed Sokka step closer. “We can’t have either of you getting hurt because we still have to find Toph.”

Sokka nodded before cupping your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. You let out a strangled gasp, your breath hitching in your throat as you realized what was happening. You kissed back urgently, your heart racing incredibly fast. Sokka smiled into the kiss at your reaction before pulling away. “Be careful.”

You opened your mouth to reply before being cut off by Aang, who was standing a few feet away and had witnessed the whole thing. “Hey! Are you two ready to go?”

Katara stood next to the Air Nomad, a small smirk on her face as she took in her brother’s blushing face. She couldn’t deny that she wasn’t too fond of the Fire Nation, but you had proven yourself to them various times. If you made her brother happy, who was she to argue.

You swallowed harshly, nodding softly before walking over to Aang. The four of you said your goodbyes before the Water Tribe siblings climbed onto Appa, holding on tightly as they set off without the saddle. You stood there with Aang, watching them disappear before you turned and set off down the other path.

“So,” Aang said a while later, dropping a clump of Appa’s hair onto the ground before repeating the same words from a few days ago. “You and Sokka huh?”

Aang’s laugh rang out loudly as he was met with a groan from you.

After a while, you and Aang found yourselves sitting in the middle of a road in an abandoned town. Neither one of you spoke, both of you way too exhausted and anxious for the fight you knew was about to come. The sun was setting, covering the both of you in a subtle glow as you awaited the arrival of the Fire Nation Princess. In the distance, you could see something moving and you straightened, nudging Aang with your elbow in the process.

A mongoose lizard became visible as it neared, a cloud of dust surrounding the animal as it hurried. The princess dismounted, her feet landing on the dusty ground, a clump of fur being crushed under her foot. Aang looked at her tiredly, glancing at you to see a hard glare on your face.

“Alright, you’ve caught up to us, Azula,” he said calmly. “What now?”

“You know who I am?” Azula asked, mildly surprised. She glanced at you, cocking an eyebrow before turning her attention back to Aang. “Of course you do. (Y/N) always did ruin the surprises.”

You stayed quiet, your gaze never leaving Azula.

“Now? Now, it's over. You're tired and you have no place to go,” Azula continued. “You can run, but I'll catch you.”

“I’m not running,” Aang stated, determined to make his stand. Azula nodded in satisfaction, her eyes drifting over to you before she tilted her head in a silent question.

“Neither am I,” you said, standing up. Azula smirked, brushing her bangs to the side as she noticed the way you gripped your sword.

“Do you really want to fight me?” Azula asked, taking a step towards you.

“Yes I do!”

“Zuko!” you and Aang yelled at the same time, eyes widening as they landed on the young prince. His ponytail was gone, his hair shorter than it had been in a long time.

“I was wondering when you’d show up, Zuzu,” Azula remarked.

“Zuzu?” Aang asked, trying to stifle his laughter. You let your laugh out, drawing Zuko’s attention to you.

“(Y/N)!” he called out, taking a step forward before being blocked by the princess. “Back off, Azula. He’s mine!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, getting ready to fight. There was tense silence for a minute, the four of you looking at each other as you waited for someone to strike. You noticed Azula’s arm twitch and you lunged forwards, using the flat side of your sword to move her arm as she fired off a blue blast at Zuko.

You landed in front of Zuko, blocking him from Azula as you held your sword out. Azula’s shocked expression easily melted away, being replaced by one of annoyance. She raised her hand to strike once more, turning away from you when she realized Aang was attempting to fly away.

“Not so fast,” she growled, sending a stream of fire towards the young boy. You were too late to block her, watching worriedly as Aang went down. You were knocked down as Azula ran after Aang, Zuko following closely behind her. You stuck your leg out, managing to trip Zuko and laughing as he fell face first.

The two of you sprung to your feet quickly, watching each other with wary eyes. You glanced behind Zuko worriedly, noticing that Aang and Azula had disappeared. Shaking your head, you brought your gaze back to Zuko. At least you could hold back one of the troublesome Fire Nation siblings.

“Why are you doing this?” Zuko asked, breaking the silence as he lunged at you. You ducked uner his arm, hitting his back with the flat of your sword and sending him sprawling onto the ground.

“You know why, Zuko,” you replied. “Aang is the only one who can end this war! Why are you doing this?”

“I need to regain my honor,” Zuko stated simply, brushing himself off before throwing himself at you again. The fight went on for a while, the two of you too well-versed with each other’s fighting styles for either one of you to get the upper hand. It was just like when you were children, the two of you dancing around each other as you tried to find each other’s weak spots. The fight ended when Zuko sent a blast of fire at you, hitting the ground before you and sending you flying.

A loud ‘oof’ left your lips as you crashed into the side of a building, debris falling all around you and trapping you. You caught sight of Zuko’s apologetic glance before he ran away, shaking his head as he left. You didn’t know how long you were stuck there, hearing the blasts and explosions that were most likely a result of the two siblings.

“Katara!” Aang’s voice cried out faintly. Your struggle lessened slightly, knowing that Aang now had help. You kept trying to push the debris off of you, gasping lightly when it was all suddenly thrown off of you.

“Need a hand, princess?”

You looked up to see a smirking Toph, sighing in relief when you realized you were free. Thanks, shortcake.”

Toph’s smirk turned into a scow and she turned away from you, ready to join the battle. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now let’s go kick some butt!”

You followed the small girl to the heart of the town, noticing Katara and Sokka fighting alongside Aang. They were trying to gang up on Azula, a plan you knew would fail. The princess sent an arc of fire out, throwing them all backwards. Without hesitation, you threw yourself at Azula, ignoring the shocked yells from your friends. You tackled the princess, the two of you rolling as you each tried to get the upper hand. You stood up first, noticing that you were a few yards away from your friends. Azula stood up quickly, smiling maniacally as she met your eyes before composing herself.

“Well (Y/N/N), that’s no way to greet me is it?” Azula taunted, fire dancing among her fingertips. She angled her body away from you, ready to head back to the group. She was stopped when you smacked her calf with your sword.

“Leave them alone Zula,” you said. She turned to you, her eyebrow raised. “Just me and you. Maybe this time you can finally prove you’re better than me.”

Your words caused her eye to twitch and you smiled, relieved that you had gotten her attention. She turned to face you completely, her fire growing as she took a menacing step towards you.

“(Y/N)! What are you doing?” Katara shouted. You glanced at the group, noticing all of them (except Toph) looking at you worriedly. “You’re gonna get hurt!”

You ignored Katara’s words, deciding to strike first. Your sword came down towards Azula quickly, causing the younger girl to dodge and roll away. She snarled as she realized you had cut off a few locks of hair, looking at you with disdain. She rushed at you, aiming a blast at your chest. You stood your ground, ignoring your friends’ panicked shouts. You sidestepped slightly, once again bringing up the flat of your blade to move her arm off course like you had earlier.

The fight continued like that, with Azula getting more and more angry as you kept blocking her hits. She got the upper hand when you jumped up, landing badly on your ankle and stumbling. Azula’s blast grazed your arm, causing you to collapse to the ground before you rolled over and leapt back up to your feet.

“C’mon!” Azula screamed, stalking closer to you. “Bend at me! Do it! Prove that you’re the best.”

Your eyes widened at her words, backing away as her fire began to spark. Your friends exchanged confused looks at Azula’s words. You weren’t a bender, you had proven that already. They watched as Azula’s attacks became fiercer, turning into lightning as she got closer to you.

“Bend at me!” Azula shouted again. “You can’t prove you’re the best without your fire. I refuse to be bested by you if you’re not giving it your all!”

She lunged at you and you brought your leg up, kicking her in the chest. She tumbled back, yelling in frustration at your actions. She ran at you again, this time being tossed to the side by a fire blast as Zuko ran in. He turned to face you and the two of you stood silently, watching each other with sad eyes. He crouched down, flames engulfing his hand as he prepared to fight you as well.

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh’s voice rang out. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Zuko answered brashly. “I’ll show her how much my bending has improved. We’re finally on the same level.”

The fight was over before it began as Azula stood back up. Everyone crowded around, much more focused on the girl than the fight that was about to take place. She looked at all of you, her eyes lingering on the burn she had left on your arm. She smirked, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Well look at this,” Azula said, her gaze drifting from person to person. “Enemies and traitors working together. I’m done. I know when I’m beaten. You got me. A princess surrenders with honor, isn’t that right (Y/N/N)?”

You froze, watching her carefully as you tried to catch the double meaning in her words. You felt Iroh’s eyes on you, carefully watching as you stared down Azula. Everyone was tense, looking at Azula even though she was only staring at you. You heard Toph let out a tiny gasp, knowing that you were right.

It happened in a second. Azula stepped forwards and aimed a bolt of lightning at Iroh. You had already predicted her move and threw yourself into the lightning’s way, ready to take the hit. Your plan failed however, when you were pulled back by someone.

“N-No!” you yelled struggling against the person’s hold. A large blast went off as everyone else attacked Azula, dust going everywhere.

“Stop struggling (Y/N/N),” Zuko whispered into your ear, holding you tightly as you watched Iroh twitch as the lightning ran through his body.

Everyone went silent when they realized Azula had disappeared, turning to see Iroh on the ground and you sobbing into Zuko’s chest as he held you tightly.

“Let me go!” you cried, weakly punching Zuko. “Zu, please. He’s i-injured.”

“Take her and leave,” Zuko said, pushing you away from him and towards Sokka. Tears were beginning to stream down his face as he knelt down besides Iroh and hugged him.

“Zuko, I can help,” Katara said softly, stepping closer. She was stopped when he sent out an arc of fire, sending them all stumbling back.

“Leave!” Zuko shouted gruffly. They complied, walking away as you struggled against Sokka’s fold.

“Zu! Please, Zu!” you yelled out. “Let them help Iroh. Please.”

No one listened to you, instead choosing to pull you away from the injured general and the prince. By the time you had reached Appa, your sobs had lessened. The short flight was silent, the only sound being your occasional hiccups. You landed on a mountain, far away from anyone else. It was quiet; almost peaceful. However that didn’t last long and soon enough, you found yourself being pinned to the rocks behind you by Katara.

“What was that?” she hissed. Her hold wasn’t strong and she looked more worried than upset. Aang’s eyes were wide as he stared at the two of you.

“Katara! What are you doing?” Sokka squawked, coming up to his sister and trying to pull her off of you. She dug her forearm into your throat just a little bit harder.

“Don’t defend her, Sokka!” Katara yelled out, her eyes still sad. “You heard what they said. She’s a bender.”

“No I’m not” you said, trying to push Katara’s eyes away. “I’ve already told you guys everything!”

“She’s lying,” Toph’s voice rang out. Everyone turned to look at her in confusion. She sighed before elaborating. “When someone lies, their heart speeds up. I can hear it with my feet.”

Everyone’s attention turned back to you, Katara’s stare hard this time. “So you’ve been lying. I knew we couldn’t trust anyone from the Fire Nation. I bet (Y/N) isn’t even your real name!”

“It is,” you whispered softly. You slipped out of Katara’s hold, handing her your sword before sitting down. “Look, I may have lied about who I am but I promise you that I was honest about my intentions. I really do want to help Aang defeat the Fire Lord.”

They all looked at Toph, who simply nodded softly. You weren’t lying. Katara crossed her arms, standing in front of you and taking a deep breath. “Tell us everything. Now.”

“Look, I told you my name. I didn’t tell you my title,” you said. You could feel everyone’s curious stares on you. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself for what you were about to say before looking up.

“My name is (Y/N), Crown Princess of the Fire Nation.”

taglist!

atla: @musicalkeys, @mywigglybaby, @aangsupremacy, @iguessthefloorislava, @dekahg, @boxofteenageideas, @bottledcostcowater, @butterflycore, @coldlilheart, @the-firebender-girl, @ajediherowitchrunner, @lammello, @astroninaaa, @samsmultifandomblogs, @sadskater25, @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak, @eternallyvenus, @emberislandplayers, @sunflowerazula, @moonnei, @stilllivindue2spite, @knaite-solo, @riespage, @wastelandbbyg

pwf: @ilovespideyyy, @binaryssunsets, @a—-rag, @existing-but-nonexistent, @milk-n-cheese, @itsthatsadbitch, @nin-tendou, @honey-ruel, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @teenbiology, @davnwillcome, @fandomarchiveilyd, @minninugget, @sukifans, @nugget-barnes, @vintageroses1014516, @donteatmycookiesplease, @fanficdepot, @birdlovinghyena, @cipheress-to-k-pop, @my--shitty--art, @woohoney, @castalette, @lozzybowe, @spacelesbianfanclub, @macymafia, @deadsunflower01

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impulsive-astrophile · 3 years

Text

Words hung above

For @ms-starlight71, who asked if I could write a fic based on the tags I left on this post. The fic ended up a little off-base, I think, but got pretty close! I hope you enjoy!

~1.7k words.

Post-Redux II angst and hurt/comfort.

You can read it on ao3, or below the cut!

(tagging @today-in-fic)

Scully’s gonna be okay.

That’s all Mulder can think; all he’s been able to think since they got the word that she was officially in remission a week ago.

He’s been trying to tamp down on the relief, a bitter part of his mind reminding him people lie and her cancer could come back. But hope snook up on him, rebellious, and burrowed into his bones.

He’s delirious with the relief of it. It bleeds into the places that had gone numb from grief and fear, the sudden influx of feelings making him dizzy and unsteady.

Mulder fumbles with his keys, hands almost shaking too much to keep a good grip on them as he finally slots the key in the lock.

Scully had sent him home. He’d spent nearly the whole week refusing to leave her side after they’d gotten the news, afraid that if he left, he’d wake up and find out it was all a dream. But Scully had rightfully insisted he go home and get some rest so he’d be capable of driving her home tomorrow.

He stumbles into his apartment, fully prepared to take a shower and maybe sit on the couch for a few hours before heading back tonight like they both knew he would.

It’s not until he trips and hits his head on a box that he remembers.

The smoking man had offered him a cure - another chip for Scully. One that would supposedly cure her. But she’d had it implanted and had seen no sign of remission, and Mulder spiraled.

He’d gone to her, needing to feel the warmth of her presence - scant that it may have been as her body failed her and grew cold even in life. Knelt by her bed and sobbed his heart out, silently, so as not to wake her. The same way he’d learned to do as a kid when any reminder that he might be hurting was met with castigation, indifference, or worse - matching tears from his mother, evidence of her own grief.

Mulder had woken at her bedside as the first hint of the sun filtered into her room, knees stiff and eyes crusted shut. In a haze, he’d uncurled himself from around Scully’s hand, pressed a kiss to it, and stumbled out of the hospital.

He still doesn’t remember driving back to his apartment that day, or asking the neighbor next door who’d just moved in if he could borrow boxes from them. He doesn’t even really remember packing his life away, neatly, into the boxes piled around him now, labeling them so they’d be easy to sort through.

He does remember despair dripping like acid into the few places hope had remained inside him that even he hadn’t been aware of. It melted everything in its path until the last of his tears had been wrung out, and he and his despair had congealed into numbness.

But he also remembers that numbness clearing as soon as he heard the word “remission” come out of Scully’s mouth. The relief brought him to his knees in front of her family.

It’s that relief that brings him to sit up, get an icepack and a bandaid - from the first aid kit he started keeping under his sink after Scully got sick - for his head, and begin to unpack the boxes and put his life right again.

It’s that relief, too, that brings him to his knees again when a sweater of Scully’s falls out of one of his.

He picks it up, tears pricking at his eyes. It’s so small.

It’s smaller than his, of course, but even smaller than she used to buy. Cancer had stolen her appetite and eaten away at her until it seemed she was little more than skin and bones, and she’d had to buy almost an entirely new wardrobe.

A reminder of just how close he’d come to losing her.

With trembling hands, he brings it to his nose, breathing in the unmistakable scent of her.

The dam breaks.

Mulder brings the sweater with him to the couch, collapsing on it, and just cries.

“Mulder?” Scully knocks on his door again, louder. “Mulder, it’s me. Are you in there?”

With no response, Scully feels her heart rate pick up.

She’d sent him home yesterday to get some rest, fully expecting him to be back later that night anyway. Barring that, she’d expected at least an anxious, middle-of-the-night call from him to make sure she hadn’t disappeared while she was out of his sight.

But neither had come, and when 24 hours had gone by with no word from him, she got worried.

She pulls out her keys, unlocking his door with practiced ease.

The sight of half-packed boxes on nearly every surface fills her with dread. “Mulder?” She calls out again.

A muffled, “‘cully?” comes from the couch, followed by Mulder scrambling to get up so fast he falls off it. Blinking up at her from the floor, Mulder frowns in confusion. “Scully? What are you doing here?”

Scully navigates around the boxes on the floor, coming to Mulder’s side to check him over. “When you didn’t show to pick me up this morning, I thought something might’ve happened. I had my mother pick me up instead and bring me here.”

Mulder frowns again. “Aw, shit, Scully, I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d sleep for so long.” He shakes his head angrily. “I should’ve been there to pick you up.”

“Mulder, it’s fine. She wanted to pick me up anyway.” Scully sighs, frowning when she brushes his hair back and notices the bruise on his forehead. “What happened?”

Mulder gestures to the boxes, looking chagrined. “I tripped.”

“I can see why,” Scully notes absently. She gestures for him to move onto the couch, then sits beside him. Doesn’t ask him about the boxes, even though she desperately wants to.

For his part, Mulder can’t tear his eyes off her. If last night he’d felt closer to her by clinging to her sweater, it’s nothing like her actually being here. It’s taking every last ounce of his willpower not to reach out and pull her into his arms.

His traitorous eyes start to fill with tears again, and he angrily wipes them away before Scully can see them. So much for being done crying, he thinks bitterly.

The movement catches Scully’s attention, though, and she tears her focus off of the boxes to look at him. Her brow furrows, and she reaches out to cup his face, only to abort the movement halfway through. “Mulder? What’s wrong?”

“Scully, I-” his voice breaks, and he looks away.

This time Scully does touch his face, bringing his gaze back to her. “What is it?”

The tenderness in her voice combined with her touch sends him over the edge. He leans forward and pulls her to him, crying a little harder at how small she feels in his arms.

“Mulder-” she tries to pull back, but Mulder clings tighter. “Okay, it’s okay.” Frowning into his shoulder, she wraps her arms around his back, rubbing soothing circles there as he shakes. The last time she’d seen him cry like this, his mother had been in the hospital.

When the tears slow, Scully shifts, running one of her hands through his hair. “Mulder, did something happen? Is your mother okay?”

“No, she’s fine.” Mulder sniffles, burying his face so far into the crook of her neck she can barely make out the following words - but when she does, her heart breaks a little. “Scully, I was so scared.”

He whispers it, like she used to whisper her confessions to her priest as a kid. Like a shameful secret.

“Oh, Mulder.”

She hadn’t wanted to worry him - that was part of why she kept the extent of her condition to herself - but she had known he was worried anyway.

Maybe she had purposefully blinded herself to just how scared he was, though. Near the end, she had been so scared herself that it had been especially hard to acknowledge how anyone else was feeling.

She hugs him tighter, tears springing to her own eyes. “I was scared too,” she confesses, her own voice a whisper now too. “But I’m okay now.”

Mulder nods into her, still not pulling back. “I know. But what if-” he cuts himself off.

“What if the other shoe drops?” She finishes.

He nods again.

“Then we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,” Scully says. “But for now, I’m getting better, and I can’t live my life in fear that the cancer will come back. And neither can you.” She punctuates the last part with a squeeze.

“I-” he starts, but seems to think better of it. “Okay.”

They both know that’s not the end of it; a small part of each of them is going to be waiting for the other shoe for years to come. But Scully’s right; that’s no way to live their lives.

They sit like that until Scully yawns.

Mulder pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says fondly.

“What bed?” She teases, recalling his being buried under a mountain of junk.

“I was thinking yours,” he says, gesturing to his keys on the table.

Scully thinks about this for a minute, then pushes him back until he’s flat against the couch. She stretches out all of her sore joints, then drapes herself carefully over him, snuggling close. “Actually, I think I’m good here. I’ve got my own personal space heater.”

Mulder gapes for a minute, unable to believe what’s happening.

“Mulder, shut your mouth. You’re going to attract flies.” Mulder shuts it, wondering how she knew it was open when her eyes are closed. “And pull that blanket off the back of the couch. It’s cold in here.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says absently, doing as she asked without question.

Blanket draped over them, fuzzy and warm, Scully falls asleep quickly. Mulder starts to drift off soon after. He wasn’t sure he could sleep more, but he thinks maybe he can do anything with Scully in his arms.

#sorry this took me so long!#I hope y'all enjoy!#hurt/comfort #redux #post-ep #my writing #msr #The X-Files #it took physical restraint but I managed to write a fic where Scully didn't call Mulder baby #felt like it didn't quite fit #also it took me two days to write this so if it's incoherent that's probably why ksdjhaldihalkdj

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blissfulparker · 4 years

Text

Seasick pt.3→peter Parker

Parings→peter Parker x reader

AU: best friends to lovers! Fake dating!

Summary→ when you lie to your mom about having a boyfriend before vactation peter steps in to help. But being in a fake relationship isnt as easy as you thought. especially not easy when you two have feelings for one another.

Warnings→rude comments, mostly fluff, still slowburn, and sadly I’m a slut for the one bed trope so yeah😔

A/n→ this is a little late I know! It’s also pretty long, a lot longer than I thought. I hope you enjoy! I’m going to try and do weekly updates but I’m now in school so I’m not sure how much I can update. Masterlist is coming for this soon so if you wanna be on the taglist send me an ASK!(I also lost the original seasick Taglist I’m so sorry!!)

Soft blue Hawaiian shirt, grey khakis is what Peter wore. You told him to dress casual, and even after he told may he didn't need any help packing, he was still hoping she slipped in some good outfits. He looked out the small window getting a glimpse of the waves crashing outside, it didn't help his fear, it only fed it. But he needed something to distract his mind before tonight. He was already scared of his decision even though technically it hadn't been one full day on the cruise.

“So..uh..” he turns and sits on the bed. “How long has it been since you've seen your family?” He starts a conversation.

“My mom and dad? Christmas. My sisters? Thanksgiving. And my aunts...gah i don't even know how long but...um...i talk to my aunt laya a lot so she will be the most excited.” you tell him as you slide the hoop earring through your ear. After this trip, Peter might know the most about you more than anyone in the group, that scared you a little bit.

But christmas, thanksgiving? Those were all so far away. He knew you, MJ, and Betty took a road trip for spring break so he did not question the lack of seeing your family then. The idea of not seeing your parents since christmas shocked him because he saw May almost every weekend when he wasn't busy and called her every other day. He couldn't really imagine ever not wanting to see her, he's sure that when he gets settled down one day he'll move into the neighborhood he grew up in with May nearby.

“Wow.” he mumbles to himself before his phone rings.

Two missed messages from May, a text from ned, and a notification from an app. He goes to May first. Hers simply just tell him to have fun and not stress out, call him if anything happens. Ned on the other hand is more playful.

Ned: Having fun loverboy?

Ned: You two kiss yet?

His teasing words make Peter roll his eyes and shove his phone back into his pocket.

“Who was that?” you come out of the bathroom all dressed up. The dress is long and down to your ankles but a slit going up the thigh. The soft blush that tickles your cheeks and the gloss that brings up your lips. It was almost like aphrodite crafted you herself. Your skin looked so soft and golden. At this moment, you looked so golden.

“U-Um just May.” he clears his throat and presses his lips together. You walk up to him and hold his shoulders. You stand close and lean in, he wants to press his eyes shut for this feels so much like a dream, your touch, your scent, spending a whole week on a cruise with you, all of it feels so much like a dream.

“Im taller than you.” you groan as you let go of him. He wakes up, he wakes up from his daydream and looks at you with confused eyes.

“W-What?” he stutters and you sit on the bed taking off the wedges you had just strapped on. You are already hating the dinner and you didn't even show up yet. You slip on some sandals, something easy to kick off after the night ends.

“To save you, I'm just gonna wear flats.” you tell him standing again and this time you're now eye level and face to face with him. He doesn't really understand why you can't be taller than him but you're far more stressed out about this dinner than he is.

“You look really pretty by the way.” he tells you. For your understanding hes saying this as fake peter, the fake boyfriend peter. But to him, deep down, he means it with his whole heart.

“Thanks.” you look down and then look back up at him looking at his shirt. You come up and unbutton one button so it doesn't look like he tried so hard. “You look really pretty too.” you smile and then look over to the door.

“Are you ready?” and just like that you two were off to one of the most confusing dinners of each other lives.

When you two arrived at the restaurant he immediately noticed how nice it was, all the families, couples, friends were dressed well for a night under the ocean's stars. He swallowed hard before you took him by surprise, grabbing his hand you held it tight.

“Hey,” you looked at him. “Don't be nervous okay? I'll take most of the lead, just follow me.” you told him and he nodded.

“I think it's normal for me to be nervous about meeting my fake girlfriend's family for the first time.” he laughs it off a little just thinking back to the pep talk Ned gave him before he left. Don't be scared peter, it's just (y/n). He reminds himself as he takes a deep breath.

As you two approach the table he can start figuring out whos who. He knows your mom and your dad already, he can see two women who look to be in their mid twenties who look like you, your sisters. Then he sees what seems to be your aunts at the table as well.

“Oh, (y/n) its been so long.” your sister kisses your cheek and you hum into the kiss. Her eyes then pan to peter, your biggest stressor.

“And you must be perry?” her voice is already annoyed and you groan as you're not ready for the things she's about to say to both you and peter.

“Peter, actually.” he reaches his hand out for her to take and she does with a wimp grasp. She shakes it almost as if he was sick and just wiped his nose. She looks at him with a more disgusted look, her bright red lips in more of a scrunch and she takes her hand back quickly when shes done.

“Right.” she nodded and then looked at you. “He's so…cute.” she scrunched her face before sitting back down. Ouch. Peter thought.

“Oh and the fun begins.” you whisper in his ear as you two sit next to each other. At first the two of you were stiff but then realized that would make it too obvious. He pretended to get an eyelash so it looked like you two were comfortable. His hand also rested on your shoulder as the conversion began.

“So…” your other sister who had not had a proper introduction leaned in to pay attention to you and peter. “When did you two lovebirds meet.” just by her words, she had gotten attention from half the table.

“Oh i can tell this story angel.” he rubbed your thigh for everyone to notice. He was good, better than you thought. You never took peter as a leader, especially for someone as a kid who would almost every time cry after having to present something--which he of course stopped after he got into highschool.

“We grew up together basically, I met her through our mutual friend. I'm sure you all know MJ.” he pauses and you catch your sister already rolling her eyes as she brings her wine glass to her lips. Your other sister was still amused but it was only to be polite to peter. “We spent highschool together and then we had a europe trip going into our senior year and that's where we found out we had mutual feelings but we sorta put them to rest after we--” and he goes on a little, you're more fascinated after the story with how far he told it. His hand rests on your thigh and suddenly you're relaxed with your lie.

“Wow, that's so sweet.” your youngest eldest sister, maya, hums as she takes a sip of her drink. “Like little soulmates.” she scrunches her face and once again you were annoyed. Yanked out of your paradise just like that.

“And now they go to Columbia, of course.” your older sister hums under her breath and Peter furrows his brows a little but ignores it.

“Peter majors in computer science and is minoring in physics.” you wrap your warm around his shoulders and get close. “He had all A’s last semester and is top of the class, he also works at the stark tower, he maintained an internship there every summer in highschool.” you kiss his cheek.

“And he went for you?” your sister asks in the most petty way possible.

Peter didn't have any siblings, his closest thing to a brother was Ned, his closest thing to a sister was probably betty. He knew families could argue, have feuds, but he never thought a sister would be this rude to another. Especially not an older sister to a younger one.

“Yeah he did-” you start but your mother glares you a look. Peter's hand rests a little more harshly on your thigh to remind you he was here.

“You should be giving (Y/N) a reason to stay then, she talked about transferring to NYU at thanksgiving. (Y/N) are still planning on transferring?” Peter's eyes went straight to yours after your mother's words. Did MJ know? Did Betty know? Did Ned know? Were you going to transfer without telling anyone? He even notices how your face goes from smiling to scared and shocked after your little secret is revealed.

“I-uh,” you look over at peter. Your sister smirks almost like she was glad. “I'm still thinking.” you chuckle off and look down at your dress, you look down at peters hand.

“All of us transferred mom, it's only natural she’ll do the same.” your sister says with a sigh, a more evil one and peter knew that too.

The table started on something else again. taking the focus away from you two as they started talking about your sister and her life. You were just glad that things didn't go too far.

You and Peter eat in silence. This was probably some of the best food in his life but it was hard to enjoy because of all the things happening.

“(y/n) you should try a juice cleanse,” your sister chipped in. “i heard it helps lose weight and with stress.” she gives a smile and even through your sisters pretty eyes, soft hair, coconut scent, and beautiful summer dress, she was still the worst.

Peter starts to open his mouth but you quickly push him back a little as a smile rises to your own lips.

“No, I don't think I will.” you tell her before going back to eating the same pasta you've been ordering on this cruise since you were 16.

How could sisters be so mean to each other, especially at such an old age. Peter was shocked by the comments about him to you. Maybe the reason you never brought them up was to save yourself, to spare yourself the pity.

He watches as your dad pays the bill, he watches as the family gets up and you do too. Your mom pulls you in for a kiss and hug before she sends you off for the night, the sister who did the least teasing gave you a hug but peter a most lasting one with a kiss to his check which made you roll your eyes. Your eldest sister gave you a quick hug before giving Peter a fake smile, and your aunt who barely spoke the whole night pulled Peter into a hug first.

“Take care of her kiddo, she deserves it.” she whispers into his ear and he gives him a soft nod and smile.

“I will.” was probably some of the truest words to come out of his mouth the entire night.

The hotel door slams shut and you once again make your way to the bathroom. Leaving peter in the middle of the room he turns on the T.V. and starts to unbutton his shirt. At this point he doesn’t know how things will go, he thought it was just going to be a family who was excited to see him, not ones who will tear each other down.

As a kid, Peter dreamed of siblings. Having a brother and a sister, playing airplanes with them and maybe getting into fights over toys but nothing like this. That’s why he’s always dreamt of his own family one day too, he wants one but is always conflicted with his secondary job as the cities hero.

He takes off his shirt and throws it into the suitcase, he picks up an old AC/DC one from years ago but still was comforted by it.

“Hey pete I’m out of the—woah—“ you cover your eyes as you just saw him half naked. He immediately covers himself up with the shirt, a look of shock takes over his face as he burns red and his mouth drops open.

“S-Sorry! I didn’t know that you would come out—“ he stuttered and then slid on his shirt.

“I’m just gonna…take the couch…” you grab a pillow and he stops you.

“Why?” He asks as he crawls into the left side of the bed.

“Because it’s one bed, and besides I dragged you into this mess the least I can do is give you the bed.” You tell him and he shakes his head.

“You said the bed is big enough for the both of us remember? So it’s fine we won’t touch each other.” He shrugs and you give him a look of defeat. “After everything tonight I think you deserve it.” He told you and you sighed climbing into the bed. The sheets feel just as soft as last summers, the cotton plump around your body and the bed memory foam. Makes you think your dorm bed is a rock. Makes peter almost fall asleep instantly as he’s never felt anything like this before expect the times he sleeps at the stark tower.

“Sorry about tonight.” You fumble with the sheets. He bites down on his lip before answering.

“You never told me about any sisters, you never told anyone about any sisters.” He says and you take a deep breath.

“Can you blame me?” You chuckle and his eyes filled with pain for you, he sees how much the friend group really means to you now, how you use them as an escape from your normal life. But a luxury life like this couldn’t be so awful all the time could it?

“I mean sisters fight don’t they?” He tries to help but you rub your face in response.

“Yeah, over toys and makeup, hair straighteners and shampoos, maybe school and boys but you’ve only seen the surface of them peter. if you thought that was bad come back on Friday and tell me what you think.” You roll to the other side. Peter wants to reach out and touch you, he wants to touch the hair that fell loose, he wants to comfort you so you don’t hurt the whole time.

“What did my aunt Layla say anyways?” You asked from the other side and his heart begs to tell the truth but he can’t blow the cover, can’t make things awkward.

“Just..she was happy. Tis’ all.” He told you and you seemed to believe it.

“Thank you for everything by the way.” You turn back to him and look at him fully. You never noticed how he has a scar on his eyebrow, or all the freckles that paint his face, or even the colors of his eyes are different on the outside. You never noticed anything until now. “You’re really, really good at this.” You told him with a soft chuckle.

“You too.” He nods, swallowing hard he watches you turn back to your side and leave him be. Soon enough he can hear your snores and drifts off himself.

Day one down and he knew this would be the longest week of his life.

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#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker fic #peter parker fan fic #peter parker x you #peter parker angst #peter parker au #fake dating!peter #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader

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5-jorjas-in-the-fence · 3 years

Text

Oh yeah I did a thing.

Ivy: a lyrical breakdown

How’s one to know

I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bone

In a faith forgotten land?

Spirit meeting the bone is a reference to a body, where the body itself is completely separate from the soul which it inhabits. A faith forgotten land alludes to a place of hope, where good things can happen, yet the world has given up on that- everyone has forgotten their faith.

In from the cold

Your touch bought forward an incandescent glow

Tarnished but so grand

Our narrator (for the sake of this we’re going to assume it’s Taylor, or some character) is sneaking around to meet someone in secret, hidden by the night. ‘Incandescent’ means to give off heat as a result of light, like a fire. This can be taken literally or metaphorically, as the person she’s meeting (spicy lover 👀) warms her up. She feels warm. However this gets contrasted with ‘tarnished but so grand’ as it means that it’s loosing its value and becoming less special the more it happens. Maybe this affair is just a thrill, and emotions aren’t too involved??

And the old widow goes to the stone everyday

But I don’t I just sit here and wait

Grieving for the living

We can assume that she has lost someone... and my hot take? She’s murdered them. Yeah that’s right. So she’s killed her last husband, and she’s not too happy with everything, so instead she grieves for everyone who is expected to be marrying and living their obnoxious lives. What is she waiting for? Actual love.

OoOoOhHhh goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine

But it’s been promised to another

😏 oh it’s getting dramatic. Perhaps this is a switch of point if view, as it references ‘freezing hand’ and in verse one (1) it mentioned that she’s come in from the cold... this completely changes the songs meaning as we suddenly are dealing with two perspectives.

Oh I can’t!

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone

Your Ivy grows

And now I’m covered in you

They know that they need to get away from this affair and relationship HOWEVER this person is growing on them... literally. They’re completely consumed in this affair, and if this chorus is indeed from another’s perspective; it’s another feeling, as they are only growing stronger feelings compared to the other person who described them as ‘tarnished’

I wish to know

The fatal flaw which makes you long to be

Magnificently cursed

Basically our narrator is like ‘bro calm TF down stop being so mysterious...’ like chill.

He’s in the room

Your opal eyes are all I wish to see

He wants what’s only yours

Ooooo ok so, we assume our narrator is already married or in a relationship... even though she killed her last one. Her husband is waiting for her and her love, however it’s reserved for another person; her ✨secret lover✨

[repeat of the chorus]

Clover blooms in the field

Spring breaks loose, the time is near

What would he do if he found us out?

The ✨drama✨. Clover blooms represent luck, they’re holding onto some sort of hope and know that winter break is almost over. However from the vibes we assume they’re not in school. Therefore, spring indicates growth. They might be planning on running away or even confronting this man... probably wouldn’t go so well.

Crescent moon, coast is clear

Springs breaks loose, but so does fear

He’s gonna burn this house to the ground

Oof ok so they’re still sneaking around at night cause that’s when it’s most safe. They’re absolutely packing it because they have to somehow tell him... or they don’t tell him and uhhhhhh... kill him.

How’s one to know?

I’d live and die for moments that we stole

On begged and borrowed time

So the time was never really theirs, it was always more like one of them begging for attention or asking last minute for their time.

So tell me to run

Or dare to sit and what what we’ll become

And drink my husbands wine

... does she run from this psycho husband??? OR... do they wait and kill the husband and have a celebratory wine together 👁👄👁 cause now they can be together... and don’t have to worry about sneaking around anymore 👀

[Chorus again]

So yeah, it’s a fire

It’s a goddamn blaze in the dark

And you started it

Oof ok so... maybe he did start a fire and they didn’t kill him... OR does this fire represent the glow that was discussed earlier???? In her dark times she found a lover who bought them light. The ‘you started it’ sounds childish and playful, maybe they feel young again???

So yeah, it’s a war

It’s the goddamn fight of my life

And you started it

Ok so they’re confronting their husband trying to fight their RiGhT tO LoVe and it’s not going too well. The playful ‘you started it’ is no longer playful and a bit more accusing. This relationship isn’t that steady incase you can’t tell, but it’s better than a toxic possessive marriage.

[chorus final]

However this last chorus has like a heavy breathing vibe for some reason? It sounds more desperate and wild. Since I live for a dramatic story... they still killed the husband. The final ‘you’ is so free and calm, it’s over. She finally has love... or will this lover be her next victim until she gets bored and moves on again? Let me know your thoughts :)

#this was way too fun #Ivy Taylor swift #Taylor swift #swiftie #swifties #lyrical breakdown #Taylor swift lyrics #music #songs #Easter eggs #murder mystery #tw murder #tw death

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galaxysgal · 3 years

Text

Songbird c2: Honey Hi || Frankie Morales

Pairing: Frankie Morales × gn!reader

Summary: A couple weeks after first meeting the kind bartender with the warm brown eyes, you begin to get to know him better.

Warnings: none ??

A/N: I can't believe im already losting chapter 2 what the hell its only been a week since this idea came to me

Wordcount: 2k

Series Masterlist

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

You stood back, looking at the loose outline of a song you had just scrawled across the chalkboard wall in your room. You had a good feeling about this one. All you needed was one good afternoon to sit down and put it to music before it would be ready for the citizens of Boston. You had picked up a couple of regulars after eight months of busking, they enjoyed your original songs and had even bought the shitty CDs you'd made with a mixture of covers and original material. Speaking of busking...

You looked out your window to make sure the bright, cloudless sky hadn't changed since sunrise, then grabbed your acoustic guitar and headed out.

The sun shined on you as you made your way through the streets of Boston, past restaurants and studios, across crosswalks and through the crowds. As you passed the Sunrise Theater, your thoughts fell warmly on the fond memories you had already made there. It had been a few weeks since Rumors in the Night started weekly gigs there. The money was doing you well, but you still took to the streets two or three times a week. It wasn't even really for the money, although a couple extra dollars from passerby was a bonus. What you really loved was the performance, sharing a part of yourself with an indifferent world. If you could bring a smile to the face of just one lonely passerby, you felt you had done good.

You set up in the shadow of a bank, in a small alcove where the walls would push your voice outwards. You sat your donation jar at your feet and unzipped your guitar case, pulling it out and beginning tuning. When everything was set, you began to sing.

"Honey, honey, honey / Who could be sweeter than you / Honey, honey, honey / Bitter sweet, but what can I do."

You were completely carefree, singing on the streets of Boston. This city was beginning to feel a bit like home, although you knew you wouldn't be here for long. Your eyes were still fixed on LA, on the lights of Hollywood. You longed to see your name in lights, headlining at the Hollywood Palladium.

"Lord it's been good to talk to you / Even sweeter than wine / Don't take the love light away / Cause I'm far away from home / Daddy, all I'm trying to tell you / Lord, I really love you, love you, love you."

This was a good song to warm up with, medium paced and not too vocally challenging. It sounded better with a full band, though. You would have to ask Fatima if you could put it on the setlist for your gig in the park this weekend.

"Honey, honey, honey, hi / honey, honey, honey hi / honey, honey, honey hi."

You watched a child come up and drop a few coins into your jar and you smiled, leading straight into your next song. You ran through Have You Ever Seen The Rain by Creedence Clearwater Revival, Waiting on the World to Change by John Mayer, Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac and a couple others you had in your repertoire. You liked to finish up with Thank You for the Music by ABBA, it was a favorite of yours but it took a while to warm up for.

"Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing / Thanks for all the joy they're bringing / Who can live without it, I ask in all honesty / What would life be? / Without a song or a dance what are we? / So I say thank you for the music / For giving it to me."

There was no one around, but you didn't care. This song meant something to you, and you were going to sing it for the world to hear.

"So I say / Thank you for the music, for giving it to me."

As you finished the song, a familiar face appeared in front of you.

"You take requests?" Frankie asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled, grabbing our water bottle and taking a quick sip. "Yeah, if I know 'em. I was just about to pack up for lunch but one more song won't hurt. For a friend, of course."

"A friend?" he asked, a gleam in his eye.

"An acquaintance. Someone I know. But anyway, hit me."

"Landslide," he said, and you rolled your eyes. "What!? It's my favorite."

"You could pick something a little more original," you teased as you tucked your pick into your pocket and started to pluck the opening of the song. Frankie backed up against the lamp post to your right, settling his arms across his chest.

"I took my love, I took it down / I climbed a mountain and I turned around / and I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills / 'til the landslide brought me down."

The song was well known, and it brought you a small crowd almost immediately.

"Oh mirror in the sky, what is love / can the child within my heart rise above / can I sail through the changing ocean tides / can I handle the seasons of my life," you smiled softly, looking at the faces around you as they stopped to watch.

"Well I've been afraid of changing cause I built my life around you / but time makes you bolder even / even children get older / and I'm getting older too."

You closed your eyes, letting the music take you over. You lost yourself in the song until it was over and the five or so people around you were clapping quietly and nodding in appreciation.

"Thank you, thank you," you stooped to place your guitar in its case, watching from the corner of your eye as the onlookers drop a dollar or two into your jar. You looked up when you saw a twenty flutter into the jar, your eyes meeting Frankie's kind gaze.

"No, no I can't-"

"Nonsense," he said, "I liked your music, and you deserve it."

You zipped up your guitar case, taking the bill from the jar and pressing it back into Frankie's hand. "I can't take your money, Frankie."

He chuckled at your persistence. "Alright, alright. You said you were headed to lunch?"

You shrugged, "I was gonna go home, maybe make myself some ramen…"

"On a day like this?" Frankie shook his head, then jerked it to the side, asking for you to follow him. "C'mon, we're getting you some real food."

You huffed out a breathless laugh as you slung your guitar case across your back. "Maybe that's a good idea. I've been living here for nine months and the only restaurant i've ever really been to is the Thai place over on Matthews."

"You can't be serious," his voice was thick with disbelief as he looked back at you. You nodded, confirming your statement was true and he hadn't heard you wrong. "What about the others, Ezra and them… Are they the same?"

"Ezra's a native Bostonian, but he's not big on restaurants. Julian and Cade both moved here around a year ago and me and Fatima have been here for nine months, we moved together. So we're all pretty new here, except for Ezra." You watched with curious eyes as Frankie waved to a man across the street selling snow cones. He was just so personable, no wonder it felt like you'd known him forever even though it had only been a couple of weeks since you met. He adjusted his gait for a second so you'd fall into place beside him, and for a moment you felt your heart flutter.

"I'm from Eastern North Carolina, originally-"

"I can hear it, you've got a bit of an accent," there was a twang to some of the words he spoke, something that gave him a bit of a southern gentleman flair. And he was a gentleman, as far as you could tell.

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement. "Folks here say that too. I moved her when I was eighteen but I guess it never really left me."

"You can take the man out of the south-"

"But you can't take the south from the man," Frankie finished. His cheeks were tinted a little pink, a smile falling into place on his lips.

Momentarily, you paused to admire him. "Do you miss home?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, I miss it sometimes. I go back once a year over the summer, to visit my family. My sister and my nephews are still down there, and my mom and dad. But this is my home now, I don't think I'll ever leave."

You found yourself in front of a corner hotdog shop, and Frankie opened the door for you. The place looked like it was straight out of the 60's, checkered tile and all. "This is real food?"

Frankie looked offended as he sat down in one of the booths. "And here I thought you'd appreciate this," he pulled one of the menus out and handed one to you as you slid in across from him.

You looked over the menu, looking for something that would catch your eye. "What do you suggest," you asked Frankie, laying your menu flat and tucking your feet up under the booth so you wouldn't kick him.

"This." He pointed out a burger, and you had to admit it looked good. "Best burger I've ever had, I swear on everything holy you'll love it."

The waiter came and took your orders, you got the burger Frankie had suggested and a strawberry milkshake to go with it. Afterwards, you found yourself staring off at the Jukebox by the counter. You wondered what they had in there, and if it was automated or authentic.

As if reading your thoughts, Frankie tossed you a quarter. You barely caught it, watching in confusion as he stood. "It's old school, just like everything else in here." You followed him over to the jukebox, and laughed when he pulled out a pair of reading glasses to see the small print of the track listing.

"What are you, fifty?" you teased.

"Watch it," he returned with a playful glare. "I'm paying for your lunch."

"Frankie you don't have to-" you started, but he shook his head.

"I'm paying, end of story. Can't have you thinking I'm not a gentleman." Your eyes fell on the gentle crinkles by his eyes that showed up when he smiled, and you wondered how anyone could mistake him for anything other than a gentleman. But you kept your mouth closed. "Now c'mon, pick a song, Songbird."

* * * * * * * * * * *

That night you found yourself sitting with Fatima, eating ice cream and watching a baking marathon on the food network. But your thoughts weren't on the contestants' lemon meringue pies. You were staring at the wall, your lunch with Frankie running through your head. Your lunch… date? No, that wasn't a date. That was just a lunch between acquaintances. Between friends.

You began to turn to Fatima, but as always she was ahead of you. She had turned down the TV and was already turned towards you, waiting. "He likes you."

You weren't even surprised, Fatima knew you better than anyone else. Of course she knew what you were thinking. "You think so?" you asked, and Fatima glared at you.

"Yes, I know so."

You tucked your knees against your chest, pulling your spoon out of your tub of Ben and Jerry's and chewing on it a little. Frankie was a kind man, you didn't want to read too much into his actions. But still, he had taken you out to lunch. And payed for your meal. And given you a nickname. "He called me songbird," you mused.

"Thats… That's adorable oh my god." Fatima sighed wistfully, eating a spoonful of her ice cream. "You should invite him to the show on Saturday!"

"I did. Well, I really just told him about it. But he said he'd be there. Is Landslide on the setlist?" you asked, and Fatima nodded. "Good. It's his favorite."

"What would you say if he asked you out?"

"I think…" you paused, but there was no need to. "I think I'd say yes."

End.

Permanent Taglist: @poestardust @tinyphantomsalad @thelazyhero-ttums @poe-djarin @djarinsidebitch

Pedro Taglist: @blackmarketmummy @coldlilheart @agentshortstacc

Frankie Taglist: @remmysbounty

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #francisco 'catfish' morales x you #francisco 'catfish' morales x reader #francisco 'catfish' morales #triple frontier

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Sweet, Like Daisies

Pairing: Usagiyama Rumi (Miruko) x Gender Neutral Reader

Story Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff / Humor

Story Warnings: Some cursing and flirting, but mostly just cuteness that could rot your teeth.

a/n: This is my art of the bnharem Discord server SFW collab, with the theme of Flowers! I decided to base my part around Daisies, which represent innocence. Rumi can be a cute and fluffy bunny just as much as she can be super fierce and I love her to death. This story also marks my beginning of writing for characters other than Bakugou! I will be posting them on this blog. If there’s anything you’d like to see, lmk! (♡´౪`♡)

Thank you so much to everyone in the server for this wonderful experience! I had so much fun and I can’t wait for the next one!

*｡Collab Masterlist *｡

--Full art piece--

“Let’s go, let’s go! Don’t tell me you’re all tuckered out already!”

“Rumi, you gotta- oh damn, my legs are on fire! What is with this hill?!”

Coming to a stop as you pulled yourself up onto a boulder jetting out of the hillside, you flopped to sit onto your butt, rubbing your burning thigh vigorously. It was a miracle that you had even made it this far, your body not exactly used to these physically challenging hikes that your girlfriend just loved to drag you on. They were easy for her, considering that she was not only one of the top pro heroes in the country, but her quirk gave her incredibly strong legs and just overall physical strength. Her bunny legs allowed her to hop over any difficult obstacle, but you? All you could do was drag yourself along, barely keeping up with her by the skin of your teeth.

“Don’t be a wimp! You’re almost there!” Squatting down at the edge of her current perch, Rumi had that typical wicked and expectant grin on her face, a few loose strands of her white hair falling around her forehead and cheeks. “You got this, Carrot!”

“Carrot… Out of all nicknames, why did you have to pick that one.” With a huff, you pulled yourself up to your feet, using the roots and rocks to help you up the steep incline.

“Oh, because I could just eat you up, of course!” Rumi gave a teasing scrunch of her nose, one of her long rabbit ears giving a twitch in satisfaction of her response. You, however, immediately grew embarrassed, losing your footing. Scrambling to catch yourself, you got secure again before turning your glare up towards her, your face burning fiercely as she laughed at your reaction. She had a talent for making you so embarrassed you could barely stand it, but really, who could blame you?

Rumi was witty and intelligent. Confident and strong. Beautiful and caring. There wasn’t an ounce of timidness in her, which is not what people would expect when they hear the word ‘rabbit’. They would think quiet, reserved, innocent, fearful, and adorable. She was adorable, to be sure, but none of those other qualities showed themselves. Actually, they showed themselves in you.

Before you had met Rumi, you were very shy, easily overwhelmed and lacking in confidence. And still, somehow, this bright and extravagant woman had taken great interest in you, building you up higher and higher until you were finally beginning to see the sun for the first time in so many years. She pushed you to better yourself, to grow stronger and happier in your own skin, and although what she encouraged was hard, it was worth every moment and struggle.

Even if she could make you so flustered you’d want to go hide under a rock sometimes.

“Rumi! Stop that, don’t try to embarrass me while I’m climbing, I could fall!”

“You dumbass, ya think I’d let you fall? Never!” When you finally got close, Rumi reached down and took hold of your forearm, waiting until you got your own grip on hers before she helped to hoist you up. Her effortless strength astounded you as always, but you didn’t have much time to admire it, as she began to move down the past the instant you were steady on your feet. “C’mon, Carrot, move that tush!”

Sighing heavily in exhaustion, you forced your burning legs to walk forward, wiping your dirt stained hands on your similarly dirtied khaki shorts. “We’re almost to a resting point, right?”

“Yes. There’s a nice little clearing here, we can take a break!” Rumi lifted her arms up over her head, giving a drawn out and satisfied groan as she stretched. Nestled at her lower back, her white fluffy tail puffed out and shook in the same moment, bringing a smile to your lips. She was just so incredibly perfect, and you couldn’t help but feel so lucky.

After walking for a while in silence to enjoy the sounds of nature, Rumi came to a stop, starting to maneuver her way through the trees and brush. “We have to go off the path a bit. Watch out for spiders ‘n shit. And stinging nettle. I’m not gonna rub that ointment all over your body if you fall in it again!”

Remembering the painful experience of falling face first into a batch of stinging nettle the last time you went hiking, you were sure to observe your surroundings thoroughly before following her. The brush and twigs scratched and poked your legs uncomfortably, but your thick hiking boots helped you to trudge through it without much problem. When you finally breached the edge of the forest into the clearing, you had to squint a bit from the brightness of the morning sun, bringing a hand up to shield your eyes.

When your eyes finally adjusted, you found yourself standing at the edge of a large field of wildflowers and tall grass, which swayed with the cool spring breeze. It felt so heavenly against your hot and sweaty skin, and the brilliant view of the hills and trees in the distance brought a smile to your lips. Being out in the wilderness wasn’t exactly your favorite thing, but you could admit that it truly was beautiful.

“How’s this for a resting spot, eh?” Rumi quite literally knocked you back into reality with a rough, playful nudge to your side, grinning up at you. “Will this do, your highness?”

“Hey, don’t patronize me like that! I get tired, I don’t have thighs of steel like you do.” You took her hand tenderly in yours as she grabbed it, your fingers lacing instinctively.

“Excuses! C’mon, let’s sit under that tree, it has shade.” Leading you forward as always, Rumi nearly had a skip in her step, her white hair bobbing in its high, messy ponytail. The tree that was chosen was a lonely one, growing out in the field alone. With all the extra room, the roots were large and snaked in and out of the ground like tentacles, and lush green leaves were at full bloom. It was comfortable and beautiful.

Shrugging off your pack, you rested it up against the tree trunk next to Rumi’s, pulling your water bottle out of the side pocket to take a healthy swig. “This really is a nice area, Rumi. How’d you find it?” Sitting down in the grass beside her, you offered her the water bottle, which she took.

“I’ve been hikin’ this trail awhile. It’s challenging, so not a lot of losers try to take it, only those that are strong enough.” After taking a sip of water, Rumi leaned her head back, squeezing the bottle so water trickled lightly onto her face and top of her head. “It is warm today, though! Especially for being spring.”

“Ah, well I can relate to those losers, I shouldn’t be on this hill either-- ACK, hey!” Suddenly, you were sprayed in the face with water, perpetrated by a very annoyed bunny.

“Don’t belittle yourself like that! Be proud, you killed that fucking hill!”

Grumbling from defeat, you ran your hand down your face to wipe the water away, glowering at your lover as she glared right back up at you with a pout that boarded on adorable. Calming down, you smiled, nodding in agreement. “Ah, sorry, sorry. You’re right. I should be proud of myself.”

“You should! My baby isn’t a loser.” Leaning up, Rumi placed a rough kiss against your cheek, her hand pressing against your other to make sure you couldn’t flee. You’d never want to, of course, so you let her punish you with the kiss, which was followed by a much more tender one before she set you free.

Smiling, you turned your attention to the grass around your legs, which was peppered with daisies and dandelions. You felt so calm and at peace in the silence of nature, and with your lover by your side, you were feeling quite… soft. That’s the only way you could describe your current emotions, so you soaked in it for a while, leaning back and supporting yourself with your hands.

After a while of peace, you leaned forward again to give your arms a rest, turning your attention back to the flowers around you. Carefully, you began to pluck the daisies out of the ground, making sure to keep their stem long. As if in a trance, you slowly began working on winding the stems of the flowers together, growing too focused on your work and the rustling of the wind to notice that you were being watched closely. In fact, you were so startled by Rumi’s voice that you jumped, nearly crushing your delicate flower arrangement in surprise.

“What’cha makin’ there, Carrot?”

“Erm… uh, a flower crown. I guess?” You brought both ends of the strip of flowers together to check the size, finding that it still wasn’t quite long enough to fit an adult head. “I used to make them as a kid. It’s been a while since I’ve been near so many daisies.”

With another sly smile, Rumi leaned against your side, resting her head on your shoulder. “Oooh, how grossly cute and sweet! Should I start calling you Baby Carrot?”

“W-what?! No, no, don’t do that, you’re gonna make me want to puke. Why don’t you call me something normal like… babe or hun.”

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy!” After giving you a playful nudge to the arm, Rumi turned her attention to the flowers around you both, plucking a daisy from its stem and bringing it up to her nose. “Y’know, for such a cute little flower, they have an awful smell. But damn, they’re tasty.” To your horror, Rumi chomped the entire bloomed flower head off the stem, making you yelp in disgust and cover your mouth.

“Rumi! That’s a wildflower! You can’t just eat it!”

“Hm?” Rumi looked up at you curiously, batting her long lashes in confusion. “I eat flowers all the time. I love their taste! They aren’t bitter to me at all. Restaurants sell them!”

“Y-yeah, but baby, they wash them first at least…” You felt your stomach churn as she picked up another flower, dousing it with water from your bottle. “Rumi! Don’t be a smart ass!”

“What, this one’s not for me!” Smirking, she held the now soggy and dripping flower up to your lips, making you cringe backwards with a sour expression. “Open up!”

“No way!” You covered your mouth with your hand, knowing that she would shove it in at the first opportunity. “There’s no way I’m eating a flower! At least not one that hadn’t been cleaned or anything properly! You have the stomach of a rabbit, you can handle it, I can’t!”

“What, you scared of getting worms?!” She poked you on the nose with the flower, leaning more against you. “You won’t get anything that’ll kill you!”

“I would, I just know it!” With a final wave of your hand, Rumi took the flower away, tossing it over her shoulder and back into the grass. “You wasted it?”

“Putting water on it made it soggy, I ain’t gonna eat that! Hey, show me how to make one of these!” Scooting around to face you, Rumi gazed down curiously at the still unfinished crown in your lap. “This shit is stupid; it has to be easy!”

“Well, it’s kind of hard, you have to be pretty gentle with the flowers. Here,” You plucked four daisies with a long stem, handing them to her before you plucked two more of your own. With detailed instruction, you showed her exactly how to twist and wind the stems, but you could see that she was already struggling with the delicate procedure. The frustrated pout was permanently plastered on her fair face, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowed. Still, she was trying and as focused as she could be.

“How the hell are you doing that so perfectly?!” Rumi eventually snapped, leaning over you a bit to really see your almost finished crown up close. “Look at that! It almost looks fake!”

Laughing softly, you finished off by connecting the two ends of the crown together, holding it up a bit to look at it clearly in the sun. “I told you, I’ve done this before. It’s not that big of a deal, babe. Here,” Turning to face her, you plopped the flower crown onto her the top of her head between her ears, making them flatten out backwards in immediate embarrassment and the tickling of the flowers against the sensitive skin.

Cheeks flushing dark, Rumi scoffed, glaring up at you as she resisted the urge to reach up and rip it off. “Get this thing off of me, I’m not some damn fairy!”

“Aw, but you look so adorable with it on.” You couldn’t resist the wide smile on your lips, especially as Rumi only grew more flustered, her ears snapping up in agitation and making the flower crown bend a bit, though it didn’t fall from her head. “It just makes you look so cute and innocent!”

“I’m not!” Rumi scooted herself closer so that she was sitting right up against your crossed legs, letting hers rest on either side of your hips. “Call me cute and innocent again and I’ll make you regret it!” As if it were a punishment, Rumi reached up and plopped her sloppy excuse for a flower crown onto the top of your head. The instant it landed, it broke apart, showering you with crumpled daisies. Unable to help it, you began to laugh, which only grew harder as Rumi began to rage and stutter. “Dammit! Fucking flowers! This is why I just eat the damn things! Stop laughing at me, Carrot!”

Covering your mouth, you gave a defeated shake of your head, holding your other hand up in defense. “I’m sorry, Rumi, it was just too funny! And so cute!”

Before you could even find the time to react, you were tackled down into the grass, immediately smothered by the feral animal before you. Latching onto her instinctively, you were at her mercy as she gripped your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips to pucker, even as your laughter continued.

“I told you! You call me cute, you’re gonna die! I-” Suddenly, the flower crown slipped off the top of her head and onto your face, framing it perfectly. The shock silenced you immediately, staring up at Rumi in surprise. She was just as perturbed as you were, but after a moment her wonder broke into a grin, chuckling as she released your cheeks. “Look who’s all cute and innocent now! Ya dork.”

Not bothering to remove the crown, you smiled softly, reaching up to caress Rumi’s cheeks tenderly. “No one in this entire world is cuter than you, baby.”

“Says the person with a flower crown on their face and daisies stuck in their hair. Hey!”

Rumi’s ears parted again as you took the crown off your face, placing it carefully on her head again to where it wouldn’t fall. This time, instead of getting angry, Rumi’s cheeks flushed again, and a cheeky smile stretched across her lips. “You aren’t gonna give up, are ya?”

“Never. Besides, innocence is a great look for you. Just please don’t eat anymore daisies.”

“Nah, flowers aren’t all that appetizing. I think I’m in the mood for some Carrot, instead.”

#bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #rumi #usagiyama rumi #miruko #mirko #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #miruko x reader #rumi x reader #personal #collab

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stubbedbakutoes · 4 years

Text

Nervous Wreck

Shoto overwhelms (y/n) with his loving words on a ride to visit his family.

pairing: Todoroki x fem reader

word count: 1k+

genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff

masterlist

Waking up on a weekend, you’d expect a calm and collected (y/n) silently making her own tea and enjoying the beautifully intricate fullness of the morning silence with her back against her boyfriend Shoto’s front, unbothered by all the negativity of the outside world – not today.

Because this particular Saturday may end up being low-key uplifting or deadass the worst day of her life. She’ll be paying a quick visit at Shoto’s family home for the first time; hence her getting herself so worked out to the point where she’s tugging at her hair in a matter that’s got to genuinely hurt. She doesn’t let her boyfriend see though; she reckons her nervousness will subside on its own, until twenty minutes later when they’re on the road and Todoroki’s driving.

“I can do this.” She exclaims out of the blue. She doesn’t realize she had said it out loud until she hears her boyfriend’s giggle beside her. “Love, stop worrying!”

“Sorry, baby. I just really want to make a good impression, you feel me?”

“Okay, first of all; you have nothing to worry about, my mum loves everyone.” He clarifies, placing a gentle hand on her thigh. “And second; my parents have always said they don’t care who I date- as long as I believe that she’s truly it for me.”

“You do, don’t you?”

“Without a doubt, (y/n), so cut yourself some slack. You’re doing better than you think.”

They fall into a comfortable, calm silence again and Todoroki speculates she’s finally assured that his loved ones don’t bite until her panicked voice fills his ears. “But what if they think I’m only here for the money and the fame?”

He leans toward her and smooths his thumb over her forehead, pressing out the lines that have set in there when the car came to a halt because of the traffic. “’S gonna be fine. They’re gonna love you, everything about you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do, too. Look, I would always go for someone who could get on with my parents. It’s important to me that my family likes you too, maybe not immediately, but then I know they’ll really get to like you because your personality is so attractive.”

(y/n)’s stunned at how easily just a few touches and some words from him can put her mind at ease. “Yeah?”

He laughs, taking his eyes off the road for a brief second to look at her. “You’re too good to resist.”

(y/n) can’t help smiling. She kind of knows in the back of her mind that there’s no such thing as a smooth ride and that she’d feel absolutely gutted the second she steps foot in Shoto’s family home, but she has a feeling that she’d be okay – as long as he would hold her hand under the table

“Should I do a no make-up look or go for something cakey? Would she --” Rei cuts herself off with a gasp when some thought hits her. “Oh no — I forgot to shave my legs!”

Todoroki’s mother Rei has been up for hours, since long before her morning alarm went off, doing some housework around the house; wiping, dusting, mopping, vacuuming – you name it. When her daughter Fuyumi made plans to have Shoto and (y/n) over for lunch, her heart leaped in her chest, just as it had every time the thought of today would slip into her mind since the two confirmed their relationship three weeks ago.

“Okaasann, stop getting yourself so worked up.” Fuyumi props up on the edge of the counter near the box of beauty products Rei’s leafing through. “How long have you been up?”

“Just couldn’t bear inviting guests over in a messy home.”

“Something tells me it isn’t just the house you’re stressing over. You’ve spent the whole morning primping in front of the mirror.” Fuyumi utters when she notices her mother pull out a pearl perfecting mask and set it down next to a charcoal nose strip pack.

“Well, this is how I unwind after basically spring-cleaning.”

“Whatever you say, Okaasann.” Fuyumi taunts when her mother pulls out a hair mask, both knowing full well that she could barely stand sitting still for 10 minutes, much less thirty. “But hear me out on this, from the texts (y/n) and I exchanged yesterday, I’m sure she isn’t breaking out in a cold sweat, so why should you?”

Meanwhile, (y/n) extends her hand up to the doorbell and quickly brings it back to her side before she could actually ring it. She’s about to go off on a spiel about every worry running through her head right now when Shoto slides his lips gently over hers in a kiss that she can sense in every nerve, relieving her with all of the poise he has. (y/n) lets out a deep breath before bringing her hand up to the doorbell again and rings it before taking a step back.

The sound echoes around the house deafeningly, making Rei double over and away from her mother’s grasp as she looks at her still bare face in the mirror. “It’s a no make-up look, then.”

“See? Even Fuyumi says so!”

“Oneesama, you’ve only read the first chapter!” Shoto whines with a smile playing on his lips. “Maybe the first few pages were garbage, but overall, it’s an awesome book.”

“It was horrible way up to the end, no one can change my mind.”

“(y/n)’s right Shoto, sorry.”

Rei chuckles on her arrival to a heated discussion in the living room as she works on clipping her earrings in. “It was the worst, yeah.”

“Todoroki-san!” (y/n) instinctively says on the first time seeing her. “Hi, how’s your day going?”

“It’s been wonderful.” (y/n) smiles at this and leans forward to peck Rei’s cheeks as a friendly greeting. Shoto follows, mumbling an “Okaasann, I'm home!” before wrapping his long and toned arms around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.

“Alright Shoto, enough of this sappy stuff, I wanna show my future sister-in-law books on my shelves that are actually good.”

“I like the sound of that.”

She nudges her elbow with (y/n)’s who is surprised at how comfortable this feels. She expected to be on edge the whole time instead feels as if Rei’s known her longer than she’s been Shoto's mother. (a/n: i like over exaggerating things lmao.) The same goes with Fuyumi who gave her a very warm and enthusiastic welcome.

Definitely would be hella honored to have them as in-laws.

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tonystarkissist · 4 years

Note

I don't know if you're taking requests (don't have to do it if you don't want to) but Peter's on a mission with the Avengers and gets hurt he tried to tell the other Avengers (he doesn't want to to worry Tony) they think it's just small thing and cap tells him to walk it off. After Tony finds him he asks why didn't you tell anyone "I did and cap told me to walk it off" Tony is angry and gives cap a good talking to. Bonus: After this Tony and peter cuddle on the couch while watching a movie.

Alright here we go! Sorry for the kinda long wait anon. It’s been a while since I’ve written a one shot.

WARNING: Mild Description of a Panic Attack

“Alright Peter, you got this. You got this, Peter,” Peter whispered to himself under his breath. “You got this.”

He flipped his way through the chaos, shooting webs from every angle he was able. He saw Falcon zoom by him, taking out whatever androids he had missed on his way by and Peter couldn’t help but grin. It was like he was actually a part of the team and he couldn’t help his fanboy heart from swelling so big it warmed his chest.

Tony would be so totally pissed once he found out… but still, this was totally epic.

“Kid, pack of 10 with Nat at your 4 o’clock.” Falcon’s voice crackled in his ear through the comm system Captain America himself had FRIDAY transfer through Karen when he’d jumped in and joined the fray.

“Got’em thanks!” He chirps, maneuvering midair to throw himself towards the group of evil bots attacking Black Widow… The Black Widow. Oh boy he was gonna fanboy so hard when this was all over. No doubt.

He helped her take them out no problem and she winked at him. Like… actually winked.

“Don’t know why Stark’s kept you under wraps so long, kid.” Peter grins through the mask at her backhanded compliment and then she was running away, flipping off the hood of a totaled car to kick a droid in what Peter assumed to be its face. Then she was talking again, but it was through the comms and Peter may or may not have started hyperventilating. “The kid’s got skill, Steve. You might be able to use him against the big guy over there.”

“Alright, catch that kid?” Steve Rogers' voice crackles through his earpiece. “Meet us up here on 15th. Be careful though, this guy’s got a mean swing.”

Peter couldn’t believe it… he was actually going to fight alongside Captain America. He wasn’t going to just be on the outskirts of the real battle helping to catch the stragglers and evacuate citizens. He was going to do something important.

Oh god Tony was so gonna kill him.

But that didn’t deter him at all as he swung his way to join Captain America and Co.

It was going fairly well until it wasn’t.

He’d gotten back handed by the huge robot several times already and, okay, maybe his insides felt like they’d been shattered multiple times, but he was fine! He was totally fine. The adrenaline was keeping most of the pain at bay, so he was fine.

Then he was thrown through a wall, rolling across the hard cement floor of some building before he came skidding to a halt at the center of the large open expanse… It looked like a parking garage.

He groaned then hissed in pain, rolling onto his other side as he hugged his chest. His head was throbbing and he’s pretty sure every rib in his body had been fractured. No. Every bone.

God that hurts.

“Peter. Several injuries have been detected. Shall I alert Mr. Stark?”

Hell no, Peter couldn’t help but think. There was no way he was going to interrupt Mr. Stark in DC when the man had given him explicit instructions to lay low and be safe while he was gone. Besides… if Mr. Stark found out, he’d make Steve take him out of the fight and Peter can’t let that happen. He’s gotta help or else a lot of people would get hurt and it’d be his fault.

So, he scrambles to his feet and winces when he felt a slight throb in his right ankle. Yeah… not good. “No, Karen,” he winced, “I’m fine. Don’t tell Mr. Stark.”

Then there was a loud rumble and the ground beneath him shook. He stared down at the space between where his feet were awkwardly planted and his eyes widened when he heard several small pieces of gravel from the ceiling over head splatter on the ground. Peter swears he hears a distinct crack too and-- oh god the building’s gonna fall.

It was going to fall. He had to get out of there! It was going to fall and he was going to be trapped! And he was going to be all alone and nobody would ever be able to find him!

“Spiderman!” Captain America shouts through the comms with a pained grunt. “Where are you?! Get out here we need you! Hurry it up!”

Peter whimpers. He hugs his chest tighter, head whipping around to find his quickest exit because he had to get out of here before it fell on top of him and trapped him forever. The building was going to fall. It was going to fall right on top of him and he’d never be able to get out.

There’s another rumble and a harsh shake, followed by even more crumbling pieces of cement along with several chunks of rock raining from above as well. Peter cries out in a panic, arms flying up to cover his head as he cowers away from the falling debris. He’s frozen to the spot, eyes blown wide as he focuses his energy on controlling his breathing so he could actually force himself to MOVE goddammit! Oh god, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He needs to get out of here!

“Spiderman!” Steve calls again over the comms with frustration lining his tone. Peter winces at the noise, but he answers despite his discomfort.

“Here sir,” Peter whispers, cowering away from the sound of his own voice. It was too loud. Too loud.

Ok… so maybe this is worse than he thought. Panic attack… not good.

“Get out here then, kid.” That was… that was Falcon's voice this time.

Peter gulps and he forces his foot forward, then the other. He watches the ceiling carefully as he makes his way through the half full parking garage, watching to make sure it wouldn’t catch him by surprise. He runs through the instructions Mr. Stark taught him for when he was having trouble breathing in situations such as this… he imagined the man’s voice coaching him through his breathing.

“Um-um sir…” Peter swallowed thickly once he caught his breath… Maybe Steve could help him. Maybe he could help like Mr. Stark helps him. “The-the building is going to fall.” Or maybe he’d realize that he’s not doing so well and sit him out just like Mr. Stark would do.

“What building?” The Captain at least had the decency to sound concerned.

“The building I’m in. The Parking Garage.” Peter answered, stepping closer and closer towards an open space he could escape from.

“Are there any civilians?”

“No.” Peter answered, sounding ashamed and childish.

“Then get out of there and get out here!”

Peter swallowed. He knows he shouldn’t… his whole body is screaming and now that he’s stopped fighting he can feel every cut on his body, and every step he took felt like his entire body was screaming. And god, he can’t breathe again… oh god. The building’s gonna fall and the only person that cares enough to actually get him out is a whole state away.

Maybe he does need Mr. Stark after all.

“Um-um sir… I got um… I’ve gotten pretty banged up. I don’t think Mr. Stark would want me to--”

“Just walk it off, Spiderman. If you can still walk, you can still fight. We need your help.”

So Peter gulps down his panic and takes a running leap out of the building, landing in a deserted alleyway just outside. His breathing is still labored, his chest is still burning, and he’s pretty sure his ankle had officially snapped from the landing… but he’s out. Oh goodness he’s out. He got out. The building didn’t fall.

He falls to the ground, gloved hands covering his masked face as he leans against the alley wall and brings his knees to his chest. He’s out. He’s safe.

Then he cries… he knows it’s stupid. He knows. He should just walk it off like Captain America told him too, because that’s what a real hero would do. But, instead, he cries. Maybe it’s from relief or from the influx of input attacking his senses or maybe it’s the adrenaline completely wearing off and allowing him to finally feel the fatigue and the pain encompassing him, controlling him, and screaming at him. His muscles tightened as he fought off the urge to scream and he just-- he couldn’t move.

The commotion going on in the battle around him was so loud the vibrations reverberating on the ground beneath him shook him to the core which only heightened the throbbing pain in his head. He wanted to get out of here. He needed to get away but he couldn’t move. It was too loud! He needed to get away… but he couldn’t tell Captain America… he has to be better than this. He-he can’t be knocked down by a few bruises, a stupid trauma, and some loud noises. He was Spiderman for god’s sake.

“Just walk it off, Spiderman. Just walk it off.” He repeats it like a mantra until his teeth are gritting with such strength he’s sure he’d have broken his jaw by now if he were a normal human.

He needed to get out of here…

“Peter, you are in severe distress. Contacting Mr. Stark.”

And he doesn’t protest this time.

***

Tony had gotten the call from Steve that New York was under attack… again. So he had politely dismissed himself from his meeting with the President and began the uneventful flight back to the city, knowing good and well the fight would probably be over by the time he got there anyways.

He hadn’t felt the impending panic to rush until a half hour later when he received an alert on his HUD transmitted from Peter’s suit. He tensed, a cold sweat springing forth, then commanded FRIDAY to patch him through to Peter with a worried waver in his voice.

The line clicks and Tony doesn’t hesitate.

“Peter?! Peter! Peter do you hear me?”

Nothing.

“FRIDAY, is he unconscious?” He’s panicking. What if the kid was hurt from the attack? Had he tried joining in to help?

“No sir,” FRIDAY answered. So Tony tried again.

“Peter, buddy. Peter, answer me pal. C’mon. You got me worried here.”

There was a small whine of acknowledgement and nothing else. At least the kid was alive. He was almost to the city… he was almost there, but he pushed the suit even harder. “FRIDAY, track his suit and get me on the team’s comm.”

“On it, Boss.”

He was met with a pained huff from none other than Captain Rogers himself. “You almost on site Iron Man?”

Tony doesn’t bother with pleasantries, but he does his best to tap down on his panic and remain calm.

“What the actual F*CK, ROGERS?!”

Ok, maybe not so calm.

“Wha-- Tony. I’m sorry to interrupt your important meeting but I believe this constitutes as an emergency.” Tony hates that he taught the man sarcasm, but at least he sounds peeved at his rudeness. Good.

“Where’s the kid?” Tony spit, coming up on the outskirts of the city, dipping lower and beginning to weave his way through the skyscrapers to reach the location of the blinking dot on his HUD. He was going a bit faster than he probably should, but he needed to get to Peter.

“What kid?”

“You know DAMN WELL what kid! Where’s Spiderman?!”

“He was fighting with us just fine Tony. Calm down. We haven’t seen him for a few minutes, but I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Well he’s not,” Tony spat. “I gave you one order--”

“You don’t make the orders Tony,” Steve interrupted, sounding just a little more pissed off at his attitude, but Tony was not having it right now.

“No!” He snaps, “This is where you shut it! The only reason you’re in charge is because I’m too goddamn busy keeping the world intact to micromanage and babysit all you idiots all hours of the day. You understand?! You put my kid in danger when I explicitly told you to stay the hell away!” And with that, he zooms right past the pitiful “threat” Steve, Bucky, and Sam were duking it out with, straight towards an alleyway behind an unstable looking parking garage.

“Tony! We need your help. The kid will be fine for a few minutes. You need to--”

FRIDAY thankfully cut off communications before he could lose it on Steve and say something he wouldn’t regret. He landed with a harsh thud and he stumbled out of his suit, rushing towards Peter’s form huddled in the corner of the alley.

“Hey, kiddo,” He whispers softly, grabbing for the edges of the kid’s mask to pull it over his head so he might be able to breathe properly. He sees the trail of tears falling along his cheeks and the redness around his eyes as his chest heaves up and down with each struggled breath.

“Hey,” he tries again, this time grabbing the kid’s shoulders and pulling him close. “Calm down, Buddy. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

And then he sees the blood.... And the mangled foot... Okay, maybe he’s not so okay.

“FRIDAY. Scan him for injuries,” he instructs his AI under his breath. “Kiddo,” he then addresses Peter, “can you tell me what hurts?”

He’s met with a quiet keen as the boy slowly lifts his hands to clamp over his ears. “Loud,” he whines, curling further into himself as a loud crash erupts near the battle site.

Tony instantly knows what’s wrong and he begins rummaging through his pants pockets as he scans the list of injuries FRIDAY displayed on his watch. Broken ribs, broken leg, dislocated shoulder, lots of abrasion and gashes, lots of bruises, and a possible concussion… what the HELL was Rogers thinking?

He tamps down on his anger and is able to fish out the special earbuds he always carried around for instances just like this. He moves forward to pull Peter’s hands away from his ears so he could insert the devices gently, being careful to not jostle him or touch his skin too much. The kid may not say anything about it, but Tony isn’t ignorant to the pain and discomfort that comes with touching when Peter’s senses are going haywire with hypersensitivity.

Once both are fitted in either ear, Peter’s body visibly sags with relief and Tony pulls him close, combing hair out of his face with a soft brush of his fingers. He’s careful of the cuts and bruises dressing the boy’s face and he swallows past a lump of fury as he slowly turns his comms back on.

Steve was already shouting at him, but he was quick to interrupt him with a quiet fury. He’s sure Peter could feel the rumble of his deep growl vibrate through his chest.

“Tell me what happened,” Tony interrupted with a huff.

Steve paused, obviously not a fan of being bossed around, but he gives in anyway. “This guy showed up in a powered suit which we think is supposed to be a knockoff of the Iron Monger--”

“I don’t give a shit about that lousy fight. Tell me what happened with my kid.”

“Stark,” Steve scolds, a sharp bite to his tone, “you seriously need to get your head on right. Get your priorities in check. The kid is fine. He can take care of himself.”

“I swear to GOD Rogers. If you don’t tell me what the hell happened this instant, the world’s gonna have a jolly ol’ time figuring why Iron Man blasted Captain America’s head into Timbuktu. You copy?” He moves away from Peter to allow the suit to surround him, then he picks him up carefully. One of the kid’s knees were busted and ribs on both sides were fractured so he tucked the kid close to his armor and tried not to jostle him, chest to chest and Peter instinctively wrapped his limbs around the armor.

Then Steve was explaining with helpful details pitched in here and there from the others.

“The kid was freaking out about the building falling and not feeling all that great or something and Cap told him to get on outta there and to walk it off so he can get back to helping--”

“He did what?!” Tony shouts, boots already igniting as he slowly ascends. He’s heard Steve say that too many times to count and it never bothered him all that much before… but he said it to Peter? That was NOT okay. “You told my kid to walk it off when he told you he was hurt and scared? Do you have any idea how long it took for me to drill that self-preservation into him?! Do you have any idea how much pain this kid can withstand without complaining?! He is a child and he was HURT!”

“I didn’t think he was that hurt Tony!” Steve immediately defended. “I thought he was just being--”

“What? Dramatic? You thought a fifteen year old kid who was just thrown through 2 feet of concrete after being tossed around like a limp rag doll was being dramatic?”

“Ok, but--”

“Uh-uh, no buts.” Tony snapped. He turns his suit to face the “threat” the team was oh so struggling against. “I’m done discussing this with you.” He lifts the arm not supporting Peter and aims. “I want you all back at the Tower in an hour for a special meeting since none of you seemed to get this explicit stipulation the first time around.”

“You can’t be serious,” Natasha argued, “this thing is still terrorizing the… city…” Just as she finishes off her sentence, Tony’s newly designed missile hit it’s mark and the hunk of metal fell to the ground without so much as an explosion, along with its fleet of lousy robots.

“One hour,” Tony growls. “If you’re late, then you can find somewhere else to sleep and mooch off of from now on.”

Then with that, he hugged his kid closer and took off towards the Tower, already contacting Helen and instructing her to get the medbay ready.

**Bonus**

Tony locked himself and Peter away in the penthouse after Helen finished treating the last of his injuries. He’d kept himself busy after she kicked him out while she was operating by telling each of his teammates off for putting his kid in danger and ignoring his small plea for help. Thankfully, they all kept silent during his harsh lashing, even Steve… he supposed it might be because he seemed a little unhinged, and, well, they’d never really seen him emote any type of emotion except for maybe a little irritation here and there. So he supposed their stunned silence was excusable.

But, he’s sure he was able to get the point across this time around. They’d never dare do anything like that again unless they wanted to find themselves facing some serious consequences. Hell he has all the power in the world to make their lives miserable. They depend too much on him to dare risk going against him.

So, now, here he was with his kid huddled close to him as they watched movies long into the night as his team licked their wounds a few floors below.

“Tony,” Peter whispered, voice hoarse from disuse. Tony turned down to look at him. “I’m sorry.” The kid sniffed and maybe it was Tony’s imagination, but the kid’s arms seemed to squeeze around his waist just a little tighter.

He sighed and leafed his hand through Peter’s shower damp hair. “Don’t be sorry… just… next time, listen to me, yeah?”

Peter nods.

“I just… I wanted to-- I couldn’t just not help.”

Tony humms, nose pressed firmly against his crown. “I see your predicament… you did good by the way. Just… I don’t want you getting involved with things like that without me there to back you up, alright?”

Peter pulled away far enough so he could look up at him with a frown. “You’re not always gonna be there to protect me Tony,” he argued, “I can do things myself. You said you trusted me.”

“I do trust you,” Tony agreed, “it’s just all the other bastards in the world I have trouble trusting.” He pushed back the kid’s hair, the backs of his fingers brushing against his forehead. “I just need to know you stay safe, and I know I won’t always be there… but I can try to be.”

“How will I ever grow if you never let me do things on my own?” Peter continued arguing petulantly, and Tony could sense the boy’s irritation rising.

“Peter,” he replied sternly, “whether you like it or not, you’re my top priority. I don’t care if you’re fifteen or fifty, I will always do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe. You understand?”

Peter’s lip stuck out and he nodded his head pitifully, body falling against him once more. “Yes’sir.”

“Good. So, maybe next time, instead of deliberately disobeying me, give me a call or something if I’m out of town so I can at least be your voice of reason as I’m commuting. That way I may be able to keep you from flying head first into something you shouldn’t. Or maybe wait till I’m there and can properly assess the situation.”

“Fine,” Peter grumbled.

Tony smiled, and FRIDAY cued up their next movie.

Half an hour in and Peter was yawning nonstop, eyes blinking lethargically until they eventually slipped closed. Just when Tony was sure the boy had fallen asleep, the kid surprised him again.

“You totally told off Captain America.”

“Sure did,” Tony chuckled.

He could feel Peter’s grin spread across his face as he whispered once more before finally slipping off to sleep.

“So badass.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Hit me up with any other fic requests. Can’t guarantee they’ll be done in a timely matter, but I try XP

#irondad #tony stark #peter parker #not steve rogers friendly #protective tony stark #hurt peter parker #irondad fic request #panic attack #for some reason the keep reading Th ing is glitching and i dont know how to fix it so... sorry

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