#It’s okay guys don’t worry my brain was already broken one time before and it got better /hj

[ava-does-dumbassery]

POV: you are watching as 2020 Dracula and the Coppola movie slowly breaks my brain

[standfucker]

The Break

Characters: Kid, Killer

Reader: GN, they/them

Word Count: 7.5k

CW: Gore, graphic description of injury+pain+first aid, hurt/comfort, confessions, highly oblivious reader

Summary: You knew you were bad with feelings, but the fact that it took a severe injury for this to come to light was maybe a little concerning.

Ao3 Link

There had only been two moments in your entire career as a pirate where you didn’t live up to your “Slippery” epithet. The first time was when Eustass Kid had bested you in combat. Rather than killing you, he offered you a place on his crew, which you had accepted–partially in the hopes of becoming stronger, and maybe also because you kind of found him incredibly attractive. That was three years ago.

The second time was right now. The enemy’s weapons consist of giant, metal crab claws, one of which snaps shut around your forearm with the force of an industrial machine before you can shave away. You’re pretty sure the whole battlefield heard the snap. A few things run through your brain in quick succession:

One–that’s going to hurt really, really badly in a second. You only have a short amount of time to counterattack.

Two–this was karma for that conversation in the mess room a few weeks ago, where you taunted the others over your having never broken a bone.

“I grew up on a dairy farm. My bones are like iron. Don’t compare it to the shortbread you all have for a skeleton.”

“You just haven’t battled enough, Slip.”

“Wrong! It’s because no one can catch me. They call me ‘Slippery Y/n’ because I’m too fast.”

“Yeah, yeah. But not fast enough, since you’re with us now!”

“Fuck off!”

Not fast enough indeed. But at least, now, you’re within striking range of the enemy. He doesn’t block in time; your scimitar opens his throat like a cut purse and sends him to his knees, gurgling. Your arm is released and you collapse on the ground, but before you can get back up, the pain hits with an intensity that immediately rips an agonized scream from deep in your lungs.

It’s like your arm’s been doused in gasoline and set on fire. Burning and sharp, sharp, sharp, so overwhelming you’re nauseous. You make the mistake of looking at your arm, and the flash of white sticking through the skin nearly makes you vomit on the spot. Seeing it for what it is somehow makes the pain worse, leaving you breathlessly curling over yourself on instinct, unable to move. Somewhere next to you the body of your enemy thuds onto the ground, dead.

The battle against the opposing crew is almost over. Though it’s not much longer before the last enemy is slain and someone rushes to your side, it feels like an eternity.

“Slip, are you okay?” You hear Hip’s voice before you, high-pitched with concern. It drops once she notices your injury. “Are you–oh. Oh, fuck. Um, guys! Hey, you guys! Slip is really hurt!”

Footsteps, more voices. One by one, crewmates converge around you.

“Oh, ew.”

“Oh, shit, Slip!”

“Slip!”

“Get out of the way!” 

That last one would be Kid. You look up in time to see him push past a crewmate, face taught in what seems like anger but you’ve since learned to recognize is worry. Most of his deeper emotions are like that, sitting in the shadow of enmity but easily discernible if you knew him well enough.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks, unable to assess your full state with you hunched over. The gruesomeness of your injury doesn’t seem to bother him. You shake your head, and relief softens his expression. “Okay. I know it hurts, but you’re gonna live.”

“I can’t get up,” you gasp, breath coming out short.

“Then I’ll carry you to the ship. Doctor’s on standby.” Kid crouches down next to you, flesh hand resting on your good shoulder. “It’s gonna hurt. Sorry in advance, Y/n.”

He’s the only one who doesn’t call you by your nickname. It makes sense, as he’s the one who caught you in the first place–it doesn’t really apply to him.

“It already hurts,” you reply, stupidly inviting more karma. Kid must think the same thing, because he frowns at you.

“Oh, just wait,” he mutters, and scoops you up as carefully as he can. The movement tears fresh hell through your arm, and you shout before you can even think to hold it in.

At least he doesn’t say ‘I told you so.’ It would only be salt in the wound, and you’re already in so much pain you can barely think. The walk back to the ship is its own trial, every step jolting your arm again, even with Kid’s best efforts to move smoothly. You tell yourself to be tough for about three seconds before it goes out the window. Frankly, you don’t deal with it well at all–you’ve never had a strong pain tolerance, it’s partly why you learned to be quick–but you manage not to scream with every step, so that’s something.

It’s a terrible shame that you’ll only remember this as excruciating–under any other circumstance, you would have cherished being held by Kid like this.

You glimpse your injury again, a wave of queasiness rising in your stomach, and press your face into Kid’s shoulder so as not to look. “I’m gonna throw up,” you say weakly.

“Since when does gore bother you?” Kid says under his breath, but you hear it.

“Since it is coming from MY BODY!!” you snarl. For once, Kid pities you enough not to scold you for talking back.

You’re shaking by the time you get to the infirmary. Most of the crew has come out of the battle unscathed, or with only minor injuries. The ship’s doctor is only concerned with you, and getting your bleeding to stop. But to close the rip…

“I have to reset the bones, first,” he says.

That was obvious to anyone with eyes, but you didn’t really think about it until just then. Your guts turn to stone at the thought, heavy and sinking as your heart starts to race. The lightest movement to your body is already enough to make you want to quit life on the spot; you are not prepared, capable, nor willing to see what it would feel like when the bone itself is directly touched. 

“You can leave it as-is,” you say, not joking in the slightest, not caring if it sounds cowardly, not even caring that half the crew is surrounding the exam table to hear it.

Kid takes one look at the fear in your eyes and turns to the rest of the crew. “Get out,” he commands. Everyone complies without question, only Killer staying behind, the unspoken exception.

Once the last person closes the door behind them, Kid focuses on you. “Y/n–”

“I can’t do it,” you cut him off, eyes welling up with tears. “I–I don’t want to.”

“Tough,” Kid snaps. “This is what you get for getting caught.”

“Kid,” Killer says, a warning to go easy on you.

It’s not necessary. You can see right through Kid’s harsh exterior. He always gets upset when a crewmate is hurt badly. What he’s really saying is ‘this is what you get for making me worry.’

“No time for discussion,” says the doctor. “I’d like to get this done before any more blood is lost. Hold them down, would you?”

Before you can protest, Kid and Killer secure you in place: Kid’s metal hand presses down on your legs while his flesh one wraps tightly around your good arm, and Killer pins your torso to his from behind.

“Wait, wait, wait!” you cry out quickly, but you can’t budge against them both. 

Kid nods at the doctor. “Do it.”

The disinfectant comes first, stealing the breath from your lungs, like acid on your exposed flesh. The doctor gives you no time to process the first action before he moves onto the second–rationally, you know it’s to minimize the amount of time you’ll be in pain, but you are incapable of viewing his actions kindly at the moment. He immediately forces the bones back to where they should be in one firm, expert motion. 

The world goes white. Nothing exists anymore except for the pain in your arm, unimaginable and all-consuming. You don’t perceive anything else, blind and deaf to any stimuli that isn’t sheer agony. Later on, you’ll realize that you must have screamed, if the soreness when you speak is any indication, but you don’t remember it.

The intensity eventually wanes enough to restore your senses, though your head is still swimming from the assault. Your sight returns first. Instead of the cold infirmary, your vision is entirely filled by Kid, his face so close you’d be staring into his eyes if they were open. His forehead is pressed to yours, and he’s saying something, but you don’t process it until your hearing comes back a moment later.

“...did good, Y/n, you did good. You’re okay. Easy, you’re okay.”

Kid… you think dimly, followed by, huh. Have I seen him do this with anyone but Killer?

You don’t question it beyond that thought, hanging onto his every word. The closeness abates the hurt, even if just slightly, and you bask in it, taking any mercy you can get. Kid and ‘comfort’ aren’t things that generally go together, but to you–scared, in pain, and maybe just a little bit hopelessly in love with him–it’s everything.

Killer smooths your hair back. His solid chest against your back is grounding, helping you stay present through the haze of misery. You’re suddenly grateful he’s there, too, his presence equally as soothing as Kid’s, the degree to which triggering a new realization: It’s obvious in hindsight, but you’ve never been great at analyzing your own feelings, and as such, it only just dawns on you that you’re down just as bad for the first mate. The revelation would have been panic-inducing if it wasn’t for the pain currently demanding all of your attention.

“They still with us?” Killer asks behind you.

Kid’s eyes open, meeting yours. You’ve never seen them this close before. The irises are an orange-gold, reminding you of smoldering embers. Your breath leaves you once more, but you’re not sure pain is the cause this time. Though it must have left you delirious, because your mouth moves before your brain can catch up.

“You have pretty eyes,” you mumble.

Said pretty eyes widen, Kid pulling back in surprise. He glances at Killer. “...That answer your question?”

Killer hums, gently rubbing your good arm. You go limp, leaning your full weight back against him without shame, hurting too much to care right then. He doesn’t seem to mind, anyway.

There’s a faint tinge of pink on Kid’s face, and he smirks down at you. “Better be careful there, Y/n. You can’t blame what you say on a head injury.”

“Whatever,” you huff, knowing you can get away with being rude without repercussions for now. “I don’t–” your words break into a gasp as the pain in your arm spikes so intensely that spots dot your vision.

Kid’s smirk instantly falls. You try to look at your burning arm, but he turns your head back so you’re watching him instead.

“Don’t look. He’s stitching it now. Keep your eyes on me, okay?”

Another wave of pain has you fighting back a sob, barely able to keep it down. You instinctively go to look again, but Kid keeps your head from turning with a steady hand cupping the side of your face.

“Look at me, Y/n. There you go. Just hold on a bit longer.”

You try to do as he says, focusing on his eyes rather than the current torture, but it’s impossible. “Hurts so bad,” you whimper.

“I know,” Kid says softly. “We’re right here.”

The curved needle hooking through your skin isn’t the problem, nor is the nauseating sensation of the sutures sliding through the layers of flesh. Both, while admittedly sucking hard, are tolerable. The problem is that even as careful as he is, the doctor is still moving your arm with every stitch.

“Almost done,” Killer says, “almost done. You’re doing great.”

Am I really? you want to ask, but you’re currently unable to form anything more coherent than groans and curses.

The final trial is the splint, more unbearable movement to your arm that has you gripping the edge of the exam table so hard your knuckles turn white. Killer takes notice, peeling your hand from the table to hold in his, instead. Despite his hand being twice the size of yours, you’re pretty sure you crush it with the strength of your grip, but he doesn’t complain.

“I’ll apply a proper cast once the swelling goes down,” the doctor says once he’s finally, finally fucking done. “Rest in one of the patient beds and keep your arm above your heart as much as possible. You’re to sleep here until further notice.”

You’re helped into one of the beds, and once the doctor’s applied ice packs to your injury, Kid dismisses him. The three of you are left alone, Kid and Killer pulling up chairs next to the bed. Lying back, you stare blankly at the ceiling, catching your breath, humbled and terrified at the human body’s ability to feel such all-consuming anguish. Adrenaline still courses through your veins, making you jittery and hyper-aware, and you’re sweating, but at least the pain in your arm has simmered down to a dull, throbbing ache. While it still feels like the bones are screaming at you, you can endure it quietly, though it does make your eyes water. 

With the diminishing of the pain comes just enough clarity for you to feel utterly and totally disgraceful. You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone on the crew scream like you had, and plenty of them had endured their fair share of awful injuries. So why couldn’t you handle it better? How could you call yourself a pirate after such a display? All of that, and still visibly on the verge of tears now that it was over? You’d be more embarrassed about crying in front of them if you hadn’t just spent the enitre past fifteen minutes acting like a complete bitch.

Kid may have said you couldn’t blame your words on a head injury, but you think the pain alone is enough to make you loopy, because you find yourself laughing shortly at the thought. It’s more of a huff and a grin, really–anything more would jostle your arm.

“Y/n?” Kid asks, concerned.

“It’s just,” you glance at him, then back at the ceiling, smiling ruefully. “I wanted to be tough, if you can believe that. But I couldn’t manage it… Pitiful, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Kid scowls. “That pirate broke your arm and you still killed him.”

“Only because I didn’t feel it right away. It doesn’t count. When push came to shove, I couldn’t handle it at all. I’m a Kid Pirate–I should be tougher. And yet, I…” You blink, and the tears gathered at the corners of your eyes break free, running down your temples. “I didn’t have it in me.”

“Y/n…?”

You look between Kid and Killer. Kid’s worry is evident behind the tension in his face, and while Killer’s expression is hidden, there’s nothing in his body language to suggest he’s upset with you. Your smile wavers, chest getting tight. The next wave of tears has nothing to do with pain.

“Aren’t you ashamed of me?” Your voice cracks, as if you couldn’t be any more pathetic.

“Don’t,” Kid says stiffly. “Don’t do the self-pity thing now. It doesn’t suit you.”

“But I–”

“Look,” Killer says, “everyone’s different, with different tolerances for pain. You don’t need to be unfeeling to be a capable fighter.”

Easy for him to say–Killer had the highest pain tolerance in the crew. Still, you don’t miss the compliment, mentally clinging to it like it could redeem you.

“You think I’m a capable fighter?” you ask, voice small.

“I invited you onto my crew for a reason, okay?” Kid says. “I saw potential. I still see it. You’ve gotten stronger since we first met.” Kid looks away. “...I haven’t once regretted my decision.”

“Oh…” Self-doubt tells you that Kid’s just saying those things to make you feel better, but experience has you discarding the thought. You know him better than that. Kid has always meant what he said, he wouldn’t make such claims lightly. The words are real and sincere, threatening to make you cry harder, but you force it down. He’s never liked dealing with tears.

Kid won’t meet your eye. From your angle on the bed, you can see a blush spread across his cheeks, darker than before. Maybe that’s why he makes to leave, pushing his chair back and getting up, Killer following suit. Or maybe he just means to check on the crew. Regardless, a surge of objection rises in your chest, every bit as selfish and puerile as a child protesting their parents leaving them in daycare.

“You’re going?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

They pause, Kid turning back to you. “Do you want us to stay?”

You don’t look at him when you nod shallowly, ashamed. But you don’t want to hurt alone. Rationally, you know you’re going to be in pain for a long while, and they can’t be at your side the whole time. Still, if they’ll let you, then you’ll be self-centered for just a bit longer.

Kid and Killer sit back down.

“Thanks,” you say quietly. Then, even quieter, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize,” Kid grumbles. “I told you to knock that shit off.”

You swallow a lump in your throat. He could be so rough about it, but there was genuine care behind his refusing to let you wallow in self-pity.

Killer takes your hand. “Is this the first time you’ve been injured like this?” he asks.

You nod.

“Listen... Sometimes, when you’re hurt bad enough physically, it messes with your head, too,” Killer says. “You feel vulnerable and insecure. Helpless, even. So,” he squeezes your hand lightly, “it’s okay if you’re more sensitive than you normally would be. No one's going to hold it against you. You came out of the battle alive. That’s what matters.”

Damn him and his tenderness, you’re trying not to cry. You pull your hand away, lower lip wobbling, and take a shaky breath, holding it down. You glance at Kid. He’s staring hard at your broken arm. Suddenly his ire stops being transparent–just like when you first joined the crew, you’re completely unable to discern what he’s really thinking. All you see is the discontent, so close to disapproval that it makes you uncertain.

“Are you, um,” you say nervously, “are you mad at me?”

“No,” Kid says, but it comes out a bit stiff. “At least, not for the reason you think. I’m proud of you for taking out that pirate. He was twice your size and faster, but you still won.” He taps his nails against his metal hand. “Y/n… When Hip said you were really hurt, I feared the worst. I thought you’d been fatally injured.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” you joke.

“Shut the fuck up!” Kid snaps, glaring. He’s gritting his teeth, eyes hard and angry, but then there’s a break, a crack in his expression. It’s just a glimpse, but for the first time, you see fear behind the fury. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Got it? Or I’ll break your other arm.”

Despite the harsh words, emotion swells in your chest, fuzzy and light. You feel yourself tearing up again. “Yes, captain.”

“You’re a real pain in my ass, you know that?”

You smile slightly. “Yes, captain.”

Kid leans back in his chair, arms crossed, scowl etched deep. You watch as Killer touches Kid’s arm briefly, reassuring. With the worst of the pain behind you comes the presence of mind to start overthinking, and you dive right in: They have each other. It’s clear that they care about you, but it will never be in the way you want. 

The ache in your arm seems fitting, a backdrop of physical pain behind the emotional. Liking Kid is stressful enough, but now that you were aware of your feelings for Killer, it was compounded, growing like a chemical reaction into something huge and overwhelming. As a trusted crewmate, you pretty much have front row seats to the small intimacies those two exchange. How are you supposed to go on watching and not be eaten alive by jealousy? 

Maybe you should leave. Maybe this was your sign that the good times had run out, and it was time to strike it out solo again. You don’t want to go–crushes aside, you were fond of the crew, having come to see them as family–but could you handle living with Kid and Killer now? The unrequited desire was already burrowing under your skin like a grass seed, threatening to travel and lodge deep into your heart. Cutting ties now would spare you more hurt in the long run.

But first you had to heal from this injury, something better done with the security of a crew protecting you.

Then, unprompted, Killer reaches over to wipe the sweat from your forehead, and you start reconsidering even that notion. If they were going to be gentle the entire recovery period, you were really gonna lose it. The compassion was too close to intimacy, a taste of what you couldn’t have. 

"The next few months are gonna blow," you say, the true meaning of the statement masked.

"Just wait until it starts itching under the cast," Killer says lightly.

"Ugh. And I'll hardly be able to move." You grimace. "I'll need help even with basic tasks… You're right, Killer, it does feel helpless."

"It'll be fine," Kid says. "You have us and the crew." 

He's still frowning, but you can read him again. Not that you need to with the frankness of his words.

"At least there's a bright side," you smile impishly, "if you're gonna be soft this whole time."

"Watch it," Kid warns, but his lip curls up just a bit. "Don't get used to it."

Too bad for him, you fully intend to abuse your power. It’ll be interesting to see how much you can get away with, and you might as well have some kind of outlet for these awful feelings in the meantime.

“Nah, I’m gonna enjoy it while I can,” you say, “because it’s not gonna happen another time. I’m gonna get even stronger, so I’ll never go through that again.” You wipe away the gathered tears with the back of your hand. “I’m gonna surpass even the shave technique. I’ll be uncatchable.”

Kid and Killer exchange glances–an impressive feat considering Killer’s mask, but that’s just the kind of wavelength they’re on–and then they look at you, Kid wearing one of his rare serious expressions. “I know the last half hour was rough, Y/n. But you won’t get any better as a fighter if fear is your motivator.”

That makes you pout, mostly because you know he’s right. Arguing that it had worked out for this long was pointless, because it really hadn’t. You only survived the fight with Kid years ago because of his whims, and today’s battle had ended in agony. You wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon, but maybe that was better. Maybe a reminder that you weren’t invulnerable was what you needed. So long as you didn’t succumb to fear, like Kid said.

“I guess it wasn’t entirely miserable,” you muse, thinking back to how Kid carried you to the ship. That was a lie–you were hurting far too badly to enjoy the contact–but the thought that it happened still made you kind of happy, in a messed up way. Maybe you were more touch-starved than you thought. “I got to be held. Can’t remember the last time I was that close to someone.”

Kid looks surprised, and then his expression slowly morphs into something smug, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face. “If you wanted to be close to me, Y/n, you could have just asked.”

Your cheeks instantly flare hot, caught so off-guard all you can do is stare in dumb shock before you turn your head away. What the hell was he doing? Why would he say that? Now there was an ache in your chest as well as your arm.

“Is that what this was all about?” Kid continues gleefully. “Did you let yourself get hurt so your captain would come take care of you?”

No, no, no. Don’t do this to me. Regardless of what he meant by the teasing, it felt like a weight was sitting over your sternum. And really, he was such a fucking jerk, taking obvious pleasure in your flustered response. Honestly, why did you even like him?

“We’re right here.”

Your brain plays the memory back like a traitor, impressing the reason. Why did he have to be so damned nice to you? Why couldn’t he have been cold or stern or even harsh, like usual? This would have been so much easier if he just told you off for screaming, or called you a pussy or something, but no. He had to hold you and reassure you and now you didn’t know what to do.

“Stop it,” you say, but it comes out small and feeble. This was all too much, especially now. Killer had a point–you were in a delicate way mentally. The walls weren’t up, you couldn’t buffer any of these feelings. “Talk to me like that and I’ll leave.”

Kid pauses. “What do you mean, you’ll leave?”

“I’ll leave the crew.”

“What?!” Kid grabs the arms of his chair, leaning forward like he didn’t hear you right the first time.

“Slip?” Killer questions.

You avoid their eyes. “I can’t–I can’t do this. I can’t be around you if you’re going to be like… like that.”

“The hell are you talking about?” Kid demands.

“Slip, what’s wrong?” Killer asks. “Was it something we said?”

“No! I mean, yes!” you say, tugging at your hair with your good hand. “I mean… I…”

“Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?” Kid says hotly. “What the hell is your problem?” 

“I’m in love with you!” you shout. “That’s my fucking problem, Kid!”

Oops. Well. It was out now. Might as well go all-in. You cover your face as you add, “Killer, too. I love you both. I’m sorry.”

The shame settles like rot in your stomach, as nauseating as the physical pain was. There was no taking it back now. You expect shocked silence, or even Kid getting angry. 

What you don’t expect is Kid, as casually as if discussing the weather, responding, “Oh. Yeah, I know.”

It takes a minute to process what he said, mentally flipping the words over in an attempt to parse them. Your hand slowly drops from your face, and you fix him with a look that manages to be both pointed and baffled. “...What?”

“I already knew that,” Kid clarifies.

You stare a hole through him. “...What?”

“What exactly are you not getting? I’m telling you I already knew.”

“Fucking excuse me?!” It finally processes, crashing over you like a boiling wave, drenching and searing all at once. “Since when?!”

“Since we met, you idiot.”

Your jaw drops. He had known all this time? For three fucking years? He knew?

“You’re not a subtle person, Y/n,” Kid says, then grins. “You got really, really worked up when I caught you that one time. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“You knew?” You look between him and Killer, at a loss. “The entire time?”

“Y/n, the whole crew knows.”

“What?!” You sit up so quickly it jostles your injury, sending a hellish jolt of pain through your arm that makes you hiss.

“Easy,” Killer says, gently pushing your good shoulder to prompt you to lay back.

“Don’t tell me to take it easy!” you snap, but acquiesce, letting him push you back. “What the hell do you mean, you knew… The crew knows… Oh my god…”

“There, there,” Killer says, but you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Anyway,” Kid says nonchalantly, “you don’t have permission to leave.”

Ordinarily, you would say 'I wasn't aware I needed it,' but you're currently too stunned to reply. All this time. And the crew knows.

What are you to make of that? Kid doesn’t look upset. Killer doesn’t sound upset. They’re fine with your crush? Did such things really not bother them, or did they… No. There was no way. You can't wrap your head around the implications. There was no way. Right? Because if they liked you back, wouldn’t they have said something by now? 

You have to find out. Living on this ship with that hanging over you is beyond what you can handle. And with months of recovery ahead of you, now would be as good a time as any to shoot your shot.

But you only get out "Do you–" before your voice catches, the query dying in your throat. You can't say it, can't bring yourself to ask. Something in your head is as broken as your arm, refusing to form the words. 

Kid and Killer are listening, waiting for you to continue, but you shake your head. “Never mind.” 

The answer to that question would hurt, and you’ve had enough of that for a good, long while. But without it comes the uncertainty, which almost feels worse. Unable to reconcile how you feel and exhausted from the aftermath of the adrenaline, you find you just want to be close to them again. Maybe you’re too much of a coward to ask the crucial question. But you aren’t above taking advantage of your current state to seek out a bit of comfort.

"Back when I was a kid," you say, "and I had to go to the doctor, my guardian would take me to get a treat afterwards. Like ice cream or something."

"Yeah?" Kid says, grinning wide. "Is there something you want from me? What could it possibly be, I wonder?"

Suddenly you're tongue-tied. You didn’t expect him to cotton on so fast, but underestimating Kid was why you had lost to him in the first place three years ago.

When you don't respond, Kid rests his chin on his metal hand, having the gall to look even more smug. "You need to say it out loud, Y/n."

Fucking jerk. Fine. "Um…" you start, fresh heat warming your face, "well, uh… Can I have, uh… A hug…?"

Kid looks surprised at that for some reason, raising a brow. What was he expecting? Still, he rises from his seat, and you sit up in anticipation. This was enough for now. Just to be held, one more time. You could figure out the rest later.

“That’s really all you want?” Kid says, looking at you like he can’t figure you out. He leans over you, towering, your height difference exacerbated with you being seated. “A hug?”

“...Yeah?” you respond hesitantly, unsure of what he means by the question.

Kid regards you for a moment, searching your eyes. Then he smirks. “I’ll do you one better.”

Before you can register the meaning of his words, Kid tilts your chin up, leans in, and presses his lips to yours in a firm and intent kiss.

Suffice to say, your brain promptly short-circuits. For a moment, not a single neuron fires. Then there’s a storm of activity, a thousand different thoughts and feelings screaming all at once. At the same time, a soft sort of tingling spreads throughout your whole body, fluttering and warm, so pleasant that you could cry. And, for just a second, like something out of a fairy tale, you don’t feel any of the pain in your arm. (You can never, ever tell this to Kid–he will hold it over your head for the rest of your life.)

While you’re too shocked to reciprocate, once Kid pulls away, you find yourself leaning forward, chasing the contact. He notices, if his widening smirk is any indication.

“Better than a hug, right?” he says, self-satisfied.

“Um,” you respond cleverly, still bewildered by the action. “Uh… Kid? Do you… Do you like me?”

Kid pinches the bridge of his nose. “Y/n, I literally just kissed you. What the fuck do you think?”

“Wait, shut up. Hold on. Wait.” The fact that Kid doesn’t react to your telling him to shut up is a testament to his going easy on you, and you make a mental note of it for later. “If you liked me back, why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been flirting with you for years!”

Your eyes bug out at him. “You have?”

“For someone who thinks so quickly in battle, it’s amazing how slow you are on the uptake,” Kid says, exasperated. You frown, because rude, but he keeps going. “At first, when you didn’t respond, I thought you weren’t interested. But the way you acted around me and Killer proved otherwise. It was confusing as hell! Then, a few weeks ago, the crew was at a tavern, and you were approached by that bounty hunter–you remember?”

“Yeah… What about him?”

“He started flirting real heavy, and it all went right over your head. It was incredible to watch. I realized then that you weren’t sending me mixed signals on purpose, but that you were really just that fucking oblivious.”

You blink. “He was flirting with me?”

“He bought you a drink!” Kid shouts, throwing his arms out in frustration and nearly knocking over another bed with his metal one. Killer covers his mask over where his mouth would be, as if that would help him suppress a laugh.

“I thought he was trying to sucker me out of information.”

“He was trying to sucker you out of your clothes.”

“Oh… So that’s why you nearly killed him.”

You stare down at your lap as you try to process all the new information. Kid liked you back. Not only that, but he had been attempting to show it pretty much since the beginning. You knew you were bad with feelings, but the fact that it took a severe injury for this to come to light was maybe a little concerning. And what about Killer? He wasn’t nearly as open as Kid, so even if he had been showing similar signs, you would have never picked up on it.

“Does, uh,” you say, looking up at them, “does Killer also…?”

“Yeah,” Kid says, “Killer too, though he never flirted with you over it.”

“I kind of did,” Killer speaks up, “here and there, but I stopped when it seemed like you weren’t into it.”

You think back, trying to recall any times where that might have happened. While Killer seemed outwardly stoic, he was surprisingly affable toward crewmates, so you never thought twice about any lingering touches or supportive words coming from him.

“Um… Wow. I’m sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to be confusing. I guess I just never thought it was possible that anyone would like me that way.”

“Why would you think that?” Killer sounds genuinely confused, and you tense, the question dredging up a host of bad memories. That was one traumatic can of worms you didn’t need to open, so you just shrug it off. 

“Uh, no reason…”

“You’ve never been in a relationship?” Kid asks.

“Not really,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. All of this was new territory, the revelation that they were both interested leaving you stumped. “...What do I even do now?”

“Whatever you want.”

You stare at Kid, then glance away, cheeks growing warm in embarrassment before you even say it. “...I want you to kiss me again.”

“You really think you deserve it after all that you’ve put us through?” Kid grins, but despite what he says, he leans right back in to grant your wish.

The second kiss is softer, even tender. Your eyes close as you cup his cheek, and his hand covers yours. That fluttering sensation returns, prickling across your skin like you’ve sunk into a warm bath, enveloping and soothing.

When Kid breaks free this time, you can’t help but look at Killer afterwards, the longing in your expression making your thoughts evident.

“What, I’m not good enough for you?” Kid accuses, but you can tell he’s teasing.

“No,” you say brightly, safe in the knowledge that he won’t retaliate while you’re injured. Or so you thought–Kid pinches your cheek (with his flesh hand, at least,) harder and harder until you apologize. You rub your sore cheek, pouting. “I swear I’m not complaining or anything, but, uh… You don’t want to, Killer?”

Killer turns his head away, quiet for a moment. “...I will… Once you’ve recovered, and the cast comes off.” He looks your way again. “So you have the motivation to heal quickly.”

Later on, when you’ve gotten to know him more intimately, you’ll look back and realize that the ‘motivation’ line was complete bullshit, and that he was just covering up his shyness. But right then, you accept him at his word, though you’re a bit disappointed.

“Sure. Okay.” You lay back in the bed, a smile slowly stretching your lips. “I can live with that.”

Today was a one-two punch in staggering experiences. First you went through the worst physical pain you’d felt yet, then Kid revealed that he and Killer both liked you back. You were ecstatic, of course–but the fact that you never had to go through breaking your arm to learn of it made you more than a little mad at yourself.

“We can talk about all this later,” Kid says. “You need to rest.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kid looks at you sharply, and you get a funny feeling in your gut. Did… Did he like that? What a stuck-up asshole. God, you love him. Which is why you’re going to use that against him later.

“Try and get some sleep, if you can. The next island we’re stopping at has a pharmacy. Once we raid it and restock our medical supplies, you won’t be hurting so much, so just hang on until then. Okay?” Kid touches your cheek.

“Okay,” you reply, trying not to show how giddy the simple action makes you.

But given that he knew of your attraction all this time, he can probably tell anyway.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!” You glare at the crewmates sitting around your bed. The doctor will only let a few people in to see you at a time, so right now, it’s just Heat, Wire, and Quincy, the latter currently signing your cast. “Some nakama you are! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It would have interfered with the betting pool,” Wire says. 

“Betting pool?!”

“After a while,” Heat adds, “it just became kind of a social experiment.”

“Betting pool?!” you reiterate.

“Relax,” Quincy says, capping the marker. “If you get worked up, the doc will kick us out.”

“Fine.” You scowl, but relent, shoulders drooping.

“So how’d it go down?” Heat asks. “Did you tell Kid first, or did he tell you?”

“I said it first.”

“Damn,” Wire mutters, fishing a thick wad of cash out of his pocket and passing it to Heat.

Your eyes widen at the blatant exchange. “I will fucking strangle you both!”

“With one hand?” Wire asks, and the three of them burst into laughter.

You throw your medicine bottle at his head.

After months of waiting, you’re eager to finally have the cast off, but a part of you will miss looking at everyone’s signatures. Heat even drew the crew’s jolly roger on it.

“Some pain and stiffness afterwards is normal. Your range of motion will be limited. After months of being immobile, the muscles are weakened,” the doctor explains. “You are to wait one week before any exercise or heavy physical activity with that arm. Understand?”

The moment the cast is removed and the doctor releases you, you go find Killer on the ship.

“Hey, Killer!” You wave at him with your newly-healed arm, though you find the action is more difficult than you expected, just like the doctor said. “Cast is off, big guy. Time to pay up.”

When Killer doesn’t respond right away, you think maybe he’s forgotten what he said months ago. He looks around at the other crewmates on deck, then takes your hand and wordlessly leads you elsewhere.

“Killer?” you ask as you follow, but he remains silent.

Killer takes you all the way to the captain’s cabin, closing the door behind the both of you. Kid is currently there, sitting at his desk and looking over a map, head turning to you as soon as you enter.

“Everything okay?” Kid asks, then, noticing your cast is off, he smirks. “Oh, I see. Went for it first thing, huh, Y/n? You must have really been looking forward to it.”

“Shut up, Kid!” you say, face growing hot.

Kid rises from his seat, coming to stand behind you, and rests his flesh hand on your shoulder, squeezing in threat. “Careful, Y/n. You don’t have that injury to protect you anymore.”

Despite the warning, something about the way he says it, voice low and smooth, makes your stomach knot.

“Alright, alright, fine. Yes, I’ve been looking forward to it, okay? I’ve been thinking about it every day since,” you admit, swallowing. “But, Killer, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Killer is silent once more. You scan him anxiously, trying to get a read on his body language. He seems tense, so it takes you by surprise when he quietly says, “I want to.”

“Oh.”

Killer steps closer, right in front of you, so you’re sandwiched between the captain and first mate. Belatedly, you realize he’ll have to take off his mask, which you didn’t think about before. You’re not sure that even Heat or Wire have seen him without it, and you’re suddenly nervous that you’re violating some boundary by asking him to kiss you.

Then, Kid moves his hand from your shoulder to your face, covering your eyes from behind. You hear a faint noise like rustling hair that must be Killer removing his mask. Unable to see, you can only wait, heart pounding. It feels like forever before you feel his breath on your face, not making contact yet–he’s hesitating. And then, finally, after months of patience, he closes the gap, soft lips capturing your own.

Just like that, all your nerves melt away, fading behind the static that seems to spark through your body. You reach out for Killer blindly, hands landing in his hair before they slide down to hold his face, pulling as if you could draw him even closer. He sighs into your mouth in response, making your knees grow weak.

After far too short a time, Killer pulls away, and your grip on his face tightens in reluctance. 

“Wait, wait,” you mumble, “again. Please, I–”

Your protest is muffled by Killer’s mouth closing over yours again, swallowing your words and your sanity all at once. He’s firmer this time, indelicate and needy, large hands grabbing hold of your waist. The little whine that slips out of you is involuntary, and you hear Kid chuckle behind you.

Eventually, Killer breaks away, leaving the both of you stunned and flushed with endorphins.

“You have no idea, Y/n,” Kid whispers into your ear, raising goosebumps on the back of your neck. “How much he’s talked about this.”

“Like you haven’t been talking about them?” Killer says defensively. “The sheer amount of grievances I’ve had to listen to the last few years… Where do I even begin? First, there was–”

“Okay!” Kid cuts him off, uncharacteristically flustered. “I get it.”

You snicker, and Kid immediately wraps his metal hand around your hip, gripping just tightly enough so as not to be painful, but still securely enough so that you’re trapped in place. It’s huge in comparison to you, the pinky sinking into your thigh while the index presses into your stomach. You gasp, going rigid, the position intimately familiar–this was the exact way that Kid had caught you three years ago.

“You know, Y/n,” Kid says, his tone soft with warning, “you’ve been a real piece of work these last few months. Smart-mouthed. Insolent. Talking back to me. Thinking you were so safe because of your injury.” He’s speaking into your ear again, breath hot on your skin, and your heart starts to race. “I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted, Y/n, because I’ve been keeping track. Every comment, every cheeky little quip, I committed to memory, waiting for this moment. I think it’s time I paid it back. Wouldn’t you agree, Killer?”

“Definitely,” Killer responds without hesitation.

Heat courses through your body, collecting at the apex of your thighs. Still blinded by Kid, you can’t see Killer move, but you feel his rough fingers tracing your throat a moment later.

The third time around, you are perfectly okay with not having lived up to your epithet.

[americanwh0resstuff]

- Take me instead -

Blaine DeBeers

Blaine DeBeers x reader one shot

Can be seen as part of the same storyline as my last fic but can also be read separately

Best playlist:

Word count: 1,112

🗡️ angst with some slight fluff

⚠️TW⚠️

Hostage like situation, mention of guns, broken bones, injury detail, mentions of blood, zombie reader…

- Take me instead -

It was a regular day down at the scratching post, it wasn’t yet open so I was making my rounds of the place, checking that all the tables were clean and not rocky, Don E was working behind the bar, wiping some glasses before placing them strategically on the shelves.

Technically I didn’t work here, but since Blaine kept me locked up all day, there wasn’t much else to do.

The sound of a cellphone ringing snapped me out of my thoughts, Don E excused himself and hurriedly went out the back door, as there wasn’t much reception down here, so now I was alone, I took this time to go to the bathroom, just to check that my hair and makeup was alright for tonight.

I re entered the bar to see a man in a soldiers uniform, I recognised him quickly as Chase Graves, the current leader of Filmore Graves and thorn in Blaine’s side, I understood they had some sort of business agreement to do with importing brains to Seattle, and that Blaine’s been pretty stressed recently about struggling to get bodies past the wall.

“Can I help you?” I asked timidly, walking over to him slowly, he’d already sat himself down on one of the black leather barstools and was reaching over to grab himself a glass and a bottle of our finest whiskey.

“Well, who might you be? One of Blaine’s play-things I suppose?” I didn’t know how to react to that, my brows furrowing as he smirked at me.

“Be a dear and tell Blaine I gotta talk to him, would ya?” I rolled my eyes but did it anyways, I didn’t want to be left alone with this guy anyways, I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I walked away.

I banged on Blaine’s office door, the sound of his record player almost drowning me out, I was about to knock again when he opened the door.

“Hello gorgeous, missing me?” He taunted before pulling me into for a heated kiss. “You have company.”

“Well I suppose it would be rude not to invite them in!” He walked back to his desk chair and sat down as I turned around to get Graves.

I took one step back towards the bar before I felt a handgun press into my side, I instinctively yelped and put my hands up.

“(Y/n)? Everything okay?” Worry scattered in Blaine’s voice.

“Oh she’s just fine.” Chase stood by the office door, one of his hands pinning my arms behind my back, the other holding his gun to my head.

Blaine looked over, a mixture of shock and anger on his face. “Look man, the shipments are coming in, they’re just delayed…” He said while holding his hands up in front of his face, he didn’t dare to draw his own gun, too scared that he’d hurt me if he took any risk. “Don’t hurt her, take me instead, she has nothing to do with this”

“It’s a funny thing…” I felt his hand move to my left wrist. “You can’t really physically torture a zombie, they just heal anyways… but emotional torture…”

He suddenly pulled my arm, a growl escaping him as I heard a snap before doubling over in pain, screaming out.

Blaine’s eyes went red and he took a step forward.

“Don’t even think about it.” Chase said slowly, pulling me closer to him once again, gun still pointed at my head. “Blaine, stay calm, I’ll be okay” tears brimmed my eyes as I tried to deal with the pain, trying to keep myself from going into rage mode, he’d kill me with no hesitation if I dared move.

Blaine pulled himself out of it, steadying himself on his desk before looking up at me, eyes going back to their usual icy blue.

“I’ll get my crew on it immediately, you’ll have your brains by tomorrow, I swear.”

Chase chuckled. “I hope you mean it, but just to be sure…” He stomped his foot down on my left calf, another snap echoing through the office as he let go on me, allowing me to drop at his feet, groaning in pain.

“Tomorrow, you have till 6pm or I’ll be back, and I won’t be as nice to your little girlfriend.”

Blaines eyes once again going red as he gripped the edges of his desk, holding himself back while Graves turned and left, exiting the bar and grabbing the bottle of scotch once again.

I looked up to see Blaine kneeling before me, eyes once again back to normal.

“Are you okay? Sorry, stupid question…” I laughed softly and leaned forward into his chest, tears streaming down my face. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He wasn’t used to being affectionate or comforting, but now he didn’t have much choice, even though he wouldn’t admit it, he cared for me, why would he keep me around all the time? He wanted me all for himself.

His arms snaked around my waist, holding me tight and shushing my soft cries.

•••

The bar was back open and everything was running smoothly, Don E shouting out that he would buy everyone another round of drinks if they took part in the zombie human dance battle, the usual.

Except instead of being out in the crowd, socialising and boosting his ego by getting hit on by hot young zombies, Blaine sat by my side, wrapping up my arm and leg in a soft white bandage.

“Luckily zombies heal these things pretty quickly, give it a few hours and you’ll be good as new.” he smiled softly at me, stroking my hair before trailing his hand down to my knee. “Here, lay down, you should sleep it off.” He tapped the pillow next to me and helped me lay down without putting any weight on my arm.

“I’m sorry, I should have protected you, I never thought he’d hurt you.”

I watched him as he looked away, remorse written all over him.

“You didn’t know.” I said, only above a whisper, exhaustion taking over me as he stroked my hair.

“Can you stay a while? I know you got a bar to run but-“ he interrupted me. “Don E’s got it covered, I’m sure he can handle it.”

I smiled at him and he smirked back.

“Well… aren’t you gonna lie down?” We both giggled softly as he lay himself down next to me, keeping a small distance since he didn’t want to hurt me anymore than Chase already had, his hand landing softly on top of mine as he watched me closing my eyes and eventually falling asleep.

[yourimagines]

Please nate x reader he pranks her by breaking up with her and it escalates and thank you so much fluff

Tears

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Triggers: swearing, bit of angst and a lot of fluff

Nate POV

I was laughing at some video my friend Nick send me. ‘You should try this one out 😉’ was the text he texted me. The video was about a guy who pranks his girl about a breakup. ‘Should I really try this tho? Its not something to fuck with…’ I placed down my phone and thought about it. ‘I could do it, just not too far, it has to be funny.’

———

I was waiting for her to come back home from work. I already packed two suitcases for her. ‘There she is.’ I heard the lock clicking and the door open. She walked quiet into the house. “Hey..” she said quietly. She places her bag down and looks between me and the suitcases. “What’s going on in here?” I shrugged my shoulders. She walks over and tries to give me a kiss. I moved out of her way. “What’s wrong?” “We need to talk.” “Okay… about what.” “Us. I can’t do this anymore.” I moved a bit out of her way. “You breaking up with me?” I nodded. “It’s for the best.” She looked at me without any emotions. “Are you serious?” “Yeah.” I placed my hands in my pockets. “Great, okay and you packed my stuff already i see?” I nodded. She walks over the suitcases and grabbed them. “You want me to leave now?” “Its for the best.” She carefully nods. “Okay..” she whispered. My heart was already screaming for her, to kiss her and hug her, screaming to tell her its a joke. “Can I use the bathroom before I go?” “Yeah sure.” She nods and walks to the bathroom, locking herself in.

I followed her and secretly listened what she was doing in there. I heard some footsteps and sniffing. ‘Stop! She’s crying now!’ I carefully knocked. “You okay in there.” “Yeah, I’m fine.” I heard her voice crack. “Baby, I’m sorry open the door please.” I tried to open the door but it was locked. “Baby please open the door, I’m not really breaking up with you, it was a stupid prank.” I knocked on the door. ‘What if she hurt herself in there because of this.’ My brain started to come up with the most worst outcomes ever. I heard her unlocking the door. I pushed it open. She was crying big time. Tears flowing down her cheeks, hiccups and her breathing was unsteady. “Baby.” I wrapped my arms around her,as soon she lays her face against my chest, she breaks down. Her legs are wobbly and we both slide carefully down into the ground. “I’m sorry..” she held me tight by my biceps, her face pushed into my chest. I held her close, trying to calm her down.

A few minutes later and her crying was stopped. She was only sniffing a bit. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you like this baby.” “Its all to much…” I kissed her head. “I know I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “No you timed it so bad Nate…” “what do you mean baby.” “I just lost my job today…” she let out a tiny cry. My heart sank even further. “Baby…” she looks up. Her beautiful eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. Her lip quivers. I felt I started to cry because of the damage I caused to her. She wraps her arm around me neck and pulls me close to her. I tightened my grip on her waist as I cried into her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I did this to you baby, I never wanted to hurt you, to make you cry…” “I know, its okay Nate.”

Y/N POV

I was holding Nate as he cried into my shoulder. He was apologising over and over again that it broke my heart to see him like this. Totally broken. “Nate, please look at me.” He carefully lifted his head up. His eyes are red and tears still falling down his cheeks. “I love you.” He cracked out. “I love you.” I whispered it back at him, afraid I would cry again. He cupped my face and wiped away my tears with his thumb. “Don’t worry about that job, I’ll provide you, whatever you need I’ll help you.” I smiled at him. “I know but I don’t want to spend your money on me Nate.” He shook his head. “It’s yours too baby, everything I do I’ll do it for us.” I placed a kiss softly on his lips. He pulled me on top of him. “I’m the worst boyfriend ever.” He cracked a smile. “No you’re not, you’re just stupid sometimes.” He smiled as I wiped away his tears from his face. “Do you still love me? Even after I cried.” “Of course Nate, I love you, even after you just cried. Its normal to cry sometimes.” He nods as he grabs my hand. “I’m not good in expressing my feeling’s I know that but I hope you know that I love you.” I hugged him. “Nate, this was a stupid prank but I know you love me.” He returned the hug. My stomach began to rumble. He looked at me. “You hungry.” “A little bit.” “Lets order some food and cuddle on the sofa.” I jumped up. “I warm up the sofa.” He chuckled. “I’ll order the food then.” I run up to the sofa, grabbing a blanket and making myself comfortable. Nate was ordering some food and came back with some drinks. “Food will be here in 30 min.” He sat down next to me and I crawled over, throwing the blanket over us, ready to cuddle him for the whole evening.

[ak47stylegirl]

Public opinion

A must requested ‘I have wings, so why do I feel stuck to the ground like never before’ snippet. 

Hope you guys enjoy 😊

—

Gordon lay lazily on the couch, flicking through TV channels. It was a hot summer day on Tracy island, and the air con was broken…And Gordon was banned from swimming because of a broken arm and ribs…

Speaking of Air-Con, Virgil was halfway in the vents trying to fix the damn thing, while Scott ‘the smother hen’ hovered below him. Dad was conversing with brains in the corner, about something vaguely thunderbirds related. 

But if it wasn’t about thunderbird four, Gordon wasn’t interested. Watching Scott smother-hen was somewhat entertaining, an added bonus it wasn’t aimed at him, thank goodness! 

Scott’s worrying/overprotective self hasn’t been the same since Ala-

“Ugh, this is the worst!” Gordon groaned dramatically, throwing the remote down on the coffee table. Don’t think about Allie-Don’t go down that rabbit hole of pain Gordo… 

“I’m borrrreeeeed and there’s nothing on…”

Scott frowned at him. “Don’t-” 

“Hey, Virg?” Tilting his head up, Gordon grinned as he found his perfect distraction. “Is the air con-”

Virgil growled, head appearing out of the vent dishevelled, “If you say ‘is the air-con fixed yet?’ one more time! I swear I’m going to shove this wrench up your-”

“Virgil!” Jeff snapped, frowning at his middle child, “I would not finish that sentence, young man!” 

“Sorry, Dad…”

Gordon snickered at the cowed look on Virgil’s face.

“And Gordon?” Jeff sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “If you are so bored as you say, instead of provoking your brothers, why don’t you go help your grandmother and Omaha in the kitchen?” 

In the kitchen… in the kitchen?! With two alpha females?! With varying cooking skills?!

Oh Hell no!!

“Ahhhh, a-actually I’m feeling really tired, with being injured and all…” Dialling poor sad squid-pup eyes up to eleven. “s-so I’m just going to rest here if that's okay with you?” 

Was Gordon’s life flashing before his eyes? Yes, yes it was.. Was he sweating/grinning in terror? Also yes. Did he want to wipe that smug smirk off Scott’s face?

Oh hell yes! 

Jeff hummed with a nod, “Very well, you do that, Son…”

(Translation: Behave or else) 

And to drag the point home, Scott decided that a light slap behind the head was in order. 

“Owwww!” Gordon pouted up at the frowning older man. “That hurt, I’m already injured you know…”

“You deserved it, squid…” Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes with a smirk, “anyway, as far as I was aware, it was your arm that was broken, not your head-” 

“Breaking News!”

All eyes snapped to the screen, each ready to deploy if needed. (Wasn’t the first time they learnt of a rescue by seeing it on tv) There were two poshly dressed news presenters, reporting about a violent protest in progress. 

“The Vigilante known as Phoenix was spotted trying to calm things down, but as this video taken an hour ago shows, he wasn’t very successful…”

The screen changed to a video recording. It was obviously taken by someone in the crowd as the camera kept shaking as it focused on the vigilante. Who looked overwhelmed; urgently talking into his comm. 

The crowd was getting more feral by the minute. Someone threw a rock at the hero, who caught it with ease; posture tense. The crowd went silent as piercing blue eyes stared at the rock, then into the crowd. 

A shiver ran down Scott’s and Gordon’s spines. (The crowd didn’t know what they were dealing with or provoking…) 

Then one of the braver (Read: stupid) protesters yelled a slur and the crowd followed. Shouts of ‘Freak! Go back to where you came from!’ ‘Fake hero! Fake victim! Murder!!’ ‘Get lost!’ and ‘mind control, my ass!’ echoed for miles. 

The police were now getting involved, as more projectiles were thrown. 

The video ended with Phoenix finally reaching his limit with a shout, (in another language Gordon noted, was that arabic?), powerful wings sending a shock wave into the crowd as he took off. 

Virgil couldn’t help but notice how distressed Phoenix had been as he fled; the big brother in him aching for the young teen. (His heart knew something he didn’t, and that confused him like hell…) 

The TV switched back to the newsroom,  “Well, that was something, wasn’t it, Mike?” The obviously fake blond mused, acting like she was talking about the weather, not…not whatever that shit had been. 

“It sure was, Karen…” Mike responded with an annoyed frown; like he had other places to be. “While I don’t support violent protests, I have to say I agree with these protesters, standing up to that vigilante…”

Something sour stirred in Gordon.

“How so, Mike? Isn’t Phoenix one of those ‘heroes’?” Karen put a weird emphasis on the word ‘hero’, clear disdain in her voice. “Isn’t he on the side of the police?”

Virgil’s brown eyes were staring holes into the tv, while Scott and Dad just watched with neutral frowns; Scott obviously more unsettled out of the two men. 

“Can we really call him a hero, Karen? Isn’t he an assassin?” Mike paused momentarily, a smug look appearing on his face, “-or excuse me, former assassin; As if that makes it any better…” 

Karen hummed softly, “They say that ‘apparently’ he was mind-controlled…”

“Very convenient excuse, don’t you think?” Mike spoke mockingly, before looking at the camera. “How can we trust those ‘heroes’ with our children, when they let Phoenix, who I remind you have killed hundreds of innocent people-”

The TV shut off with a deafening click.

[immortalecstasy-blog]

You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth 18+

Chapter 8/16 Pairing: Eddie Munson / Chrissy Cunningam Need to catch up? Click Here for Chapter 1

When Chrissy finally woke up, she was mute. People are sympathetic at first, but when she doesn’t magically get better, she slowly finds herself as one of the ‘freaks’. Lucky for her, there’s one freak in particular she really doesn’t mind finding herself beside. 

Warnings: Slow Burn, Angst, PTSD, Chrissy still got attacked by Vecna but didn't die, Eddie still got mauled by bats but didn't die, Hurt/Comfort, Abuse

Read on AO3 or...

Eddie didn’t see her the day after she’d visited Jason, and he’d convinced himself that she was already pulling away. He’d known after that first day, in the aftershock of his little episode after she’d helped him put Dustin’s room back together and collected all the pieces of his guitar and thrown them away for him, that Chrissy wasn’t going to be a shining star in his sky, she’d be a comet. A brilliant light that was blinding, electric, and then gone. Never to grace his sky again. He could survive it. The absence of her. But he wasn’t ready yet. He wanted more time. As much as he could get.

It scared him just how much, and he fucking hated feeling afraid. He hated that he didn’t deserve her anyway, that he’d fucking left her there in that trailer in the first place.

He’d spent the whole morning in his and Dustin’s room, music blaring through his headphones as he lamented the broken record player – even if he wouldn’t be able to use it at the only reasonable volume (max) with his uncle sleeping down the hall.

Dustin was out, making the most of the last week of summer.

His plans the following day were to have a repeat of the day before, but then she’d turned up.

“Urgh!” She’d said as she closed the door behind her. “Prisons are horrible.”

“Kinda the point, princess.” Eddie told her offhandedly, discarding his Walkman.

She frowned at his tone. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy.”

“Okay… did you still want to try going for a walk today?” She asked, sounding unsure.

Eddie scratched his head and sighed. “Um… I’m thinking not.”

“Alright. Do you want to read to me?” She asked, “I could read to you?” She offered when he didn’t say anything.

“Chris…” He started, and then stopped himself.

She sat awkwardly down in front of him, using his shoulder to balance herself, waiting patiently.

“I’m just… thinking about school.”

“I thought you weren’t worried?”

“No, not about graduating. About… um…”

Chrissy’s shoulders sagged. “Us?”

“Yeah.”

“And… have… your ‘thoughts’ come to a conclusion?” She asked carefully.

“None I like.”

She frowned, “What do you mean?”

He could feel his chest tightening with anger, at her. At himself. Her mom. All the fucking shit heads who walked the halls of Hawkins High School.

“It’s… look, this has been… I…”

Chrissy looked taken aback, “has?”

“Well, yeah, I mean…”

Her eyes widened and then face set in an unhappy scowl. Eddie’s brain whirred as he took her in and rewrote the assumptions he’d made in the last forty-eight hours.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to.” He admitted, staring at the downward curve of her lips.

“Want to what?”

“Be… like this. With me. At school.”

She looked hurt but not all together surprised. She reached out for his hand and pulled it into her lap, holding it with both hands, twisting his rings around and around.

“I’m not saying it’s not going to… be without its problems, or anything. Um, I don’t…” her throat started to close up and she took a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t think my mom would approve, she’d probably pull me out of school, actually. But, I do want this. Us.”

“You do?”

“Don’t you?” She asked haltingly, staring resolutely down at their hands, he turned his hand over so he could take her hand firmly in his.

“Is it that simple for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Chrissy. I don’t mean to, I don’t know, burst your bubble here or anything. But at school… I don’t… I’m the weird guy who can’t even graduate, and that was before all the Vecna shit. If people… if people saw us together at school you’d turn into one of the freaks, I don’t want that. You don’t deserve that.”

“Eddie, I’m already one of the freaks. They all think I was tortured by a psychopath. I can’t even speak. All my friends have already graduated, I’m not going to be able to be in the squad, I won’t even be able to be a sub. Walking’s tiring enough, never mind cheering.” She was about to add that she would also never be seen dead in a short skirt again but stopped herself. “And you said I was a freak before all that, remember?”

“None of that is going to put you in the same category.”

“Well then what do you want, Eddie?” She asked, irritated.

“I want you.” He told her honestly, squeezing her hand, “But I don’t… I don’t want you to have to… be with me?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” She snapped, her voice high, he glanced up to see her eyes were shiny with unshed tears and quickly took her face in his hands.

“Hey, no, it’s okay, Chrissy, don’t…”

She cut him off, pressing her lips against his. He kissed her back, tasting her tears as they spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” He told her, kissing her again. “I’m sorry.”

She pulled back to wipe the tears off of her cheeks. They’d never spoken about how she’d acted at the cinema with Lisa. She’d managed to justify it to herself and then ignored it. But she’d never explained it to Eddie, she realised. He thought…

“No, I’m sorry. Eddie, I don’t care what anyone at school thinks. I really don’t.”

He looked like he didn’t believe her but gave her a pass. “What about your mom?”

“I…”

“Do you think she wouldn’t find out? Parents, students, hell even the teachers. Someone would tell her.”

Chrissy’s bottom lip stuck out sullenly, and she looked so cute he couldn’t fight the smile that came to his lips.

“You look cute when you’re being grumpy.”

“I don’t want to break up.” She whispered.

Eddie almost laughed, “Oh so we’re a couple then?”

“No, I make out with all my friends.”

He did laugh then. Pulling her in for another kiss. “We won’t break up.” He told her.

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that your way of asking me out?”

“You just said—” he started, but she covered his mouth with her hand.

“Eddie Munson. I hereby dub you ‘Boyfriend of Chrissy’. No arguments. Okay?”

He nodded, and she slowly took her hand away. “But—”

The hand was back, and she gave him a warning glance. He laughed, pulling her hand away.

“I have a condition.” He explained, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “Before I accept this great honour.”

“What is it?” She asked wearily.

“It has to be a secret.”

“Why would we keep it a secret?”

Eddie levelled her with a look, and she glanced away, swallowing.

Eventually she nodded, turning back to face him.

“Okay. Who would I tell anyway, right?”

“Seen but not heard.” Eddie teased, “Isn’t that supposed to be the perfect woman?”

“You did not.”

“I think I did.”

“You’re so dead!” She threatened, wrapping his hair in her fist, and kissing him. “I just made us official, and that’s the thanks I get?!”

“You going to teach me some manners?” He asked lewdly, pulling her lip between his teeth.

“Hey, have you seen my – oh shit! Sorry!”

Eddie turned to the door just in time to see Dustin slam it shut again. He turned back to Chrissy, raising his eyebrows.

“So much for secret.”

Chrissy shrugged. “I don’t think Dustin counts. Or any of your friends, actually.”

“Excuse me, the secrecy is my rule – don’t you think I should set the parameters?”

“Nope.”

The last week of summer was sucked up in the blink of an eye.

“Are you sure I can’t just get a GED?” Eddie asked on the last day before school started, they were in Eddie and Dustin’s room. Dustin had been more than happy to be banished to the living room with the bribe of one of Eddie’s cool looking sets of dice he’d ordered from the back of ‘Dragon’ magazine years before. Eddie had expected to lose the dice to Dustin anyway, the kid was obsessed with the pearlescent finish. Hell, he’d have given them to him if he’d asked.

When Chrissy had left the evening Dustin had caught them kissing, Eddie had foregone all politeness and simply threatened to kill him if he told anyone. A grinning Dustin had sworn not to tell a soul, and then badgered him with questions until way past his bedtime, stopping only when Eddie threatened to shave his head in his sleep.

Chrissy had finally met his uncle the day before. The poor man had looked like he’d seen a ghost, and Eddie belatedly – shamefacedly – remembered that Wayne had been the one to find her, broken and twisted, presumed dead, on the floor of his living room after a ten-hour shift. He wondered if Chrissy knew and decided he’d rather she didn’t.

“You don’t need a GED.” Chrissy admonished him now. She was sat on Dustin’s bed, Eddie sat with his back to her, nestled between her legs so she could play with his hair.

He had explained to her (twice) that if he brushed it when it was dry, it would just turn into a giant frizz ball. He’d had to let her do it just to prove a point, and she was now trying to salvage the mess she’d made. He didn’t immediately tell her that once he’d washed it again it would spring back into its normal waves, letting her panic.

“No, but I can’t go back to school with my hair looking like this.”

“It’s not that bad!” Chrissy lied.

Eddie laughed, “I could go look in the mirror.”

“No don’t!” She said quickly, grabbing his shoulders.

“See?”

“I’ll fix it.”

He waved her hand away. “I’ll just shower later, don’t worry.”

“So no GED then.” Chrissy joked, still stroking his hair.

“Please?”

Chrissy laughed, “I don’t know what your problem is. You can talk and you have friends still there.”

“Yeah, but I made this really selfless decision to ignore my girlfriend in public, and I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together.”

“No?”

“Nope. Pretty sure I’m going to pin her up against a locker in front of everyone.”

Chrissy grinned, “Well. Keeping it secret was your idea, so if you change your mind…”

Eddie laughed. “Don’t tempt me.”

“You could kiss me right in front of the basketball team.”

Eddie licked his lips, considering it. “You’re evil.”

“You think so?” Chrissy asked, “I could’ve suggested feeling me up in the hall on parents evening.”

This was too ridiculous even for Eddie, and he couldn’t think of a single scenario that both beat that one and didn’t cross a line.

“No, no, talk about the lockers again.”

Chrissy giggled, pulling on his hair so his head tipped back and she could kiss him.

“You’re a pig.” She told him, running her thumbs down the contours of his face, ignoring the asymmetry caused by the scar near his mouth. Eddie oinked, making her laugh again as he reached up to cup the back of her head and pull her mouth back onto his.

She slipped from the bed into his lap, using cheerleader worthy gymnastics to twist her body so that they wouldn’t have to break the kiss.

She could feel the curve of his smirk on her lips. Her skin trembling at the firm touch of his hand on her waist, the confident way one hand snaked under her shirt to press against the bare skin of her back, his fingertips less than inch from the strap of her bra.

She hummed against his lips, melting into him. Her hips flexed without her permission, and Eddie pressed her tighter against him, bringing her hips in closer. She could feel his belt buckle press against the concave of her stomach.

She pushed his crazy hair out of his face, cupping the back of his head so that when she least backwards, he followed her. Covering her body with his.

She frowned as she made contact with the floor, adjusting herself awkwardly as something small bit into the centre of her back.

“You okay?”

“…yeah, there just… there’s something…” Chrissy released his hair, her hand disappearing  behind her back. She found the irritant and wrapped her fingers round it, removing it from underneath her. She made to toss it aside, but Eddie’s hand caught her wrist and she opened her palm so he could see whatever it was. He took it, and she put her hands on his shoulders, rising with him as he sat up.

The heat that had been building plummeted, like a snuffed out candle.

“Is that…?” Chrissy asked, moving back a little without relinquishing her hold on his shoulders.

Eddie licked his lips, “part of my guitar.” He finished for her with a sigh and a scowl. She could feel the tension in his arms as his hand left her waist and she took her hands from his shoulders, taking the tuning peg from him and retreating a few inches.

Eddie rubbed at his eyes with his palms, shame creeping up his spine like one of Vecna’s horrible spiders.

“It’s okay.” Chrissy told him, taking hold of his wrists so that she could pull his hands away from his face and meet his eye. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He scowled.

“I love you.” She said. Meeting his eye. “Not just the stuff you let everyone see. I love you. All of you.”

“Even the broken shit?” He asked, ever the pessimist, ever the doubter.

“Especially the ‘broken shit’.” She promised, kissing him again, moving his hands back to her waist - and for what was perhaps the very first time in his life, Eddie Munson was rendered speechless.

There was a welcome back assembly that first morning back at school. For some reason Chrissy didn’t think the events of spring break would come up, despite having sat through similar assemblies herself when Will ‘died’, and after the mall fire.

They mentioned her, by name, and she cast her eyes downward as everyone turned to stare at her. They mentioned the other victims, praying for Max, grieving for Fred. They made no mention of Jason or the accusations towards Eddie. Keeping everything focused on the positives and lamenting that Patrick would not be joining them to complete his academic career.

The one time Chrissy managed to drag her eyes up from a twist in her shoelace, she caught Eddie looking at her from the other side of the room, his eyebrows drawn in concern.

‘You okay?’ He mouthed, and she gave him a quick nod, but his expression didn’t change.

He wanted to go to her, but was bound by his own rule of secrecy. Everyone was already staring at her, it wasn’t going to help if Eddie “The Freak” Munson went to check in on her. She crossed his path when they were all filing out, and he resisted the urge to comfort her, instead stepping back so a few more people filled the space between them. Dustin shook his head at him, and Eddie did his best to ignore him.

Chrissy was lucky, despite most of her friends already graduating, the younger cheerleaders all rallied around her. It came as a bit of a surprise, as there had always been a fair bit on animosity between the senior cheerleaders and the younger up and comers. Perhaps now that the majority of them were seniors themselves they felt some of that superiority themselves.

She was grateful that Principal Higgins hadn’t mentioned anything about her inability to speak, though it may have been easier. The gossip mill had already started doing the legwork but it was uncomfortable to be constantly reminded how unusual her communication method was. Even if her mum was a total bitch about it, everyone else in her life had adapted quickly and without comment. Even the zit-covered teen who worked the late shift at the diner she, Eddie and Dustin often snuck out to was accustomed to reading her order off her board without batting an eyelid.

The staff all seemed to be in the know at least, so Chrissy was spared being questioned about it. She wanted to seek Eddie out at lunch, but the cheerleaders led her to their table like a school of fish. Eddie was already at the head of one of the lunch tables. Sat on the back of his chair so he towered over the rest of them. She wondered if anyone else had noticed that Eddie’s table was so crowded they’d had to steal chairs from other tables, elbows pushed together. For an ‘unpopular loser’ he didn’t seem to be doing so bad.

She picked at her lunch, smiling and nodding enthusiastically as and when required, putting so much effort into looking like she was paying attention to what the girls had got up to over the summer, that none of the words actually made it through.

Whenever she had a comment, by the time she was done writing the conversation had usually moved on, only one or two of them actually pausing for her like Eddie’s friends always did. They backtracked, trying to make an effort to include her, but that somehow just made her feel worse and she resigned herself to just sitting and listening, her ponytail bobbing wildly with each encouraging nod.

Towards the end of lunch, Mike disentangled himself from Eddie’s table, having to climb over his chair to do it. To Chrissy’s surprise, he seemed to be coming towards her and she quickly looked away, back to the smiling faces around her.

She knew the instant they noticed him too, casting each other glances with raised eyebrows and unkind smiles.

“Hey, um, Chrissy?” Mike said awkwardly from behind her,

Chrissy twisted around to look at him, smiling broadly (fuck them and their side-eyed glances)

“Nancy said she’ll pick you up after school, if.. if you want.”

Chrissy nodded, and Mike huffed out a breath before nodding back, clearly uncomfortable under the gaze of the rest of her table. She wanted to reassure him somehow but he was already walking away.

One of the basketball players at the next table made a nasty comment about him looking like a frog, and by association the conversation quickly turned to Lucas Sinclair. Who was at Eddie’s table instead of theirs, a traitor.

How had Chrissy ever thought she enjoyed high school?

“So you’re friends with Nancy Wheeler?” One of the girls asked, taking a mouthful of dry looking salad.

Chrissy nodded.

“Is she still with that weird loner guy? The one who took those creepy photos?”

Chrissy nodded again uncomfortably.

“What’s that like?”

‘He doesn’t seem so bad’ Chrissy wrote.

The response was either disbelief or a general murder of how Chrissy was so nice and trusting and how Jonathan Byers was a total weirdo.

“So’s his brother” one of them commented, and that started another round of giggly bullying which culminated in all of them staring at Will.

Eddie noticed in a heartbeat, either because he’d been glancing at their table or because he had a sixth sense for that kind of thing.

“Can I help you with something ladies?” He called out loudly.

Chrissy closed her eyes, sending out a silent prayer that no one retaliated. But life had already shown her time and time again that she wasn’t that lucky.

“Drop dead!” Someone shouted, and Chrissy had a mental image of Eddie falling back off his chair like he had when she had tried to buy drugs of him, it took all her willpower not to laugh to herself at the memory before panicking that he actually would and would injure himself on the hard floor of the cafeteria. She looked over, pleased to see he was still sat on top of his chair. He leant forwards and the panic returned, but he was just scooping sweetcorn from El’s tray to throw at Dustin.

She wondered what Dustin had said.

The afternoon dragged by, and Chrissy began to regret not taking classes in the summer. She had only chosen the extra semester to keep Eddie company, and she wasn’t even doing that. Banished to the other side of the cafeteria or ignoring him in the halls.

So hoped they would at least have some classes together but that didn’t happen at all that first day back.

Nancy was true to her word and was waiting for her when the school day was finally over.

“How’d it go?” Nancy asked as Chrissy tossed her bag into the footwell and climbed in. Chrissy tipped her head back and groaned.

“That bad, huh?”

She took Chrissy home and went inside with her. No one else seemed to be in, but Chrissy still led her upstairs. There were still some snacks leftover from her care package, and she put the carrier bag on the bed so that Nancy could help herself.

“So how bad was it, exactly?”

For the next hour, Chrissy wrote about her day, complaining about the assembly and the funny looks, whispers. Lamenting that all her closest friends had already graduated, about how unfair the basketball team were being to Lucas. How all the new freshmen looked like literal babies.

When her mom came home, she snatched up the carrier bag and hid it again, startling Nancy.

Chrissy just shook her head, not having time to write an explanation before her mom appeared in the doorway of her bedroom.

“Nancy, hello dear! How are you doing?”

“Oh! Um, great! Yeah!” Nancy rushed with a wide grin, before turning back to Chrissy, “I should... go?”

“You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

Nancy glanced at Chrissy, but her expression was unreadable.

“Oh, yeah, okay, that would be great Mrs Cunningham, could I just use your phone to tell my mom?”

“Of course.”

 Chrissy uncrossed her legs stiffly, and led Nancy downstairs to the phone.

“Do you want me to stay?” Nancy whispered, and Chrissy nodded.

Her moms need to show off to everyone else what a wonderful family they were always circumvented her issues with Chrissy’s eating habits, it had happened time and time again whenever Jason or Marie and the other girls had come over for dinner. To begin with, Chrissy had stuck to her normal portions, but her mom had brought it up as if she hadn’t been drilling body issues into her daughter from a young age.

That’s how the purging had first started.

But Chrissy had managed several normal sized meals in the last few weeks without purging, even if it hadn’t sat well afterwards. The numbers on the scale were still lower than they had been pre-Vecna, thanks to the long hospital stay and wired jaw.

Dinner wasn’t too tasking, as Nancy was a surprise guest there was nothing dripping with fats or bearing an excessive salt content, but Chrissy’s plate bore a lot more than usual, and she struggled to finish under the surreptitious glances as her mom played the graceful host.

Nancy had clearly sensed something even if she didn’t quite grasp what, circling Chrissy’s wrist when she said goodbye.

“Is everything okay?”

Chrissy nodded quickly, and Nancy frowned.

“You sure?”

She nodded again, and opened her mouth to speak, to reassure. Surprised when nothing came out.

Chrissy had only scraped in a B in wood shop all last year – it was one of her worst classes, and she knew Eddie has sworn off playing his guitar again, telling Dustin to throw it out. But she was determined to put it back together again.

She’d wrote a letter explaining herself before she sought out her wood shop teacher. Nervous of getting Miss Owen to wait while she wrote. She could be quite sour in their class, but Chrissy thought that was more about students not paying attention or unintentionally handling equipment dangerously – and against the very strict rules that were in place.

In the end, she’d waited until the end of the class – embarrassed about the idea of being turned down and having to sit through the rest of the lesson.

Miss Owen had taken the hand-written letter cautiously, and Chrissy stood with her hands clasped behind her back as she watched her read it.

“I’d need to take a look.” Miss Owen said finally, turning the letter around and writing her address on the back. “Could you bring it over to my house after school?”

Chrissy nodded, grinning as she took the letter back and hid it in her bag.

She asked her dad to take her there after she’d arrived home, the broken guitar nestled in a duffel bag Jason had used as a gym bag that had somehow ended up in her bedroom.

She hoped that her enthusiasm for the class would trump her average grade, and she had no reservations about playing to her tragic backstory to get what she wanted. But it turned out there was no need.

“I think I can fix it. If you want me to.” Her teacher had said after examining it at length in her living room.

‘I want to. Need help’

“You want to fix it yourself?”

Chrissy nodded, and Miss Owen baulked a little, thinking of the projects Chrissy had completed in her class previously.

“It won’t be easy…”

‘Ok’

“Well okay. Then you better come out the back.”

Her teacher led her round the side of her house to the garage, which had all the equipment she had hesitantly used at school as well as several other machines that seemed totally beyond her.

“I suppose the first thing to establish is your budget.” She told her after examining the guitar a second time. “There’s a fair bit of damage. I’m not an expert on instruments, but you’ll definitely need a fund for materials.”

Chrissy thought of her small stash of birthday and Christmas money, bolstered by the money she used to receive for tutoring some of the younger kids on the block, and wrote down the full amount.

The teacher whistled, “This… probably isn’t worth that Chrissy. You could buy a new one.”

Chrissy shook her head, gesturing to the broken guitar.

The teacher looked weary, “Okay. If that’s what you want, I can certainly give it a go.”

Chrissy hesitated, and then wrote ‘Just need help.’ Followed by ‘Do it myself’

To her eternal gratitude, her teacher agreed.

She’d already explained in her letter that she wouldn’t be able to work on the project during school. She didn’t want Eddie to know about it, and so began her secret side-project.

[sadbean609]

Just the Way You Aren't : January — A Proposition

...We begin when a mysterious new groupchat adds our couple...

Hinata's POV

-

A very confused Hinata asks the comfort of her two followers on priv

-

Hinata smoothed down her dress with her hands, already feeling them clam up. Her heart was beating faster than normal, and she could feel it in the warmth of her cheeks. This is fine, she reassured herself. I’ll just pop in, see what the big deal is, then I’ll take off. Easy as that.

She raised her hand to knock, taking her time, when the door opened to reveal a very flushed, but smiling Ino. Looks like the booze already started long before she got there. “Am I late?” Hinata asked, eying her tall friend.

“No, you’re just in time!” Ino cackled, pulling her in the apartment. “Guys! Guess who’s here!” Ino pulled Hinata into the living room, and Hinata was immediately met with excited, scheming eyes. Hinata only met them very briefly and very quickly at a party she went to with Sakura. She knew the man was an Uchiha, and the woman beside him could be his girlfriend. She couldn’t remember their names though, and she wasn’t going to with how fast her brain was going.

“You made it!” Tenten called from the kitchen, poking her head out. “I was worried you’d bail on us, but it’s nice to see that you took my advice.”

“Uh, Tenten?” Hinata started, not liking the amount of eyes that were on her. “Do you want to explain what’s going on?”

“Take a seat first, Hinata,” Tenten reassured her, disappearing behind the wall to finish what she was doing. “Do you want a drink?” 

“Do you have any cider?” Ino asked for her.

“That we do.” 

The room fell into silence and Hinata pulled out her phone to busy her hands. She opened a group chat that hadn’t been active in a few weeks. Maybe they weren’t so busy now? 

-

We introduce some new characters

-

Hinata was pulled out of her concentration on her phone from a knock at the door. “I’ll get it!” the Uchiha called, standing up abruptly. He stole a weird glance at Hinata that made her stomach flip. Oh no. What could that imply?

“I’m surprised you’re almost on time,” she heard him say from the foyer. She tried not to pay too much attention to the mystery guest. She had no idea who it could be and the anticipation was causing her knee to bounce. 

“I’m more than an hour late,” she heard the mystery guest say. Okay so he was a guy. A guy with a voice so smooth she could spread it on toast. Her breath became short.

“I purposefully told you the wrong time, figuring you’d show up over an hour late. Your curiosity would get the better of you eventually.”

“You know, sometimes I don’t buy that whole weird ‘air head’ shit you pull. You scare me sometimes, dude.”

Both of them walked into the living room. Mystery Guest’s eyes landed on Hinata’s and for one brief, swift moment, Hinata forgot how to breathe. She choked on her cider, almost causing her to spit up on the couch that she was barely sitting on. Her heart thrummed in her palms, and her eyes were on everyone that just saw her do a spit take as the man simply looked at her.

“This might be more fun than I thought,” came Ino’s voice over Hinata’s coughs.

-

We introduce a few more characters

Genma's POV

-

Installment 1 will have to be broken up into two parts, I've reached the image limit

-

Masterpost | Meet the Cast | Next ->

[teddy06writes]

You Didn't Need Us Then, We Don't Need You Now

Requested by this anon: "Okay I thought of this idea during Fundy's stream. Quackity and reader were engaged to Karl and Sapnap, but they left because of Karl losing his memory and Sapnap paying more attention to him. Quackity and reader then created Las Navadas to try and cope with everything that's happened to them. They created a little wedding area where they planned to get married with Sap and Karl. Flash forward to a year or two later, Karl and Sap stumble across Las Navadas and their two former fiancees. And they see everything they've done, including the little wedding area. which is perfectly designed as to how they wanted their wedding together. That's is as far as I got to the imagine in my head. If you could make a fic out of it that would be cool. If not at least you have this cute imagine in your head! 😊"

{Okay, so- so man feels, so many ideas. I haven't seen all of the Los Nevadas streams yet because I've got a lot of school stuff going on, but, I think I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. [also Slime from The Ground my beloved]}

Quackity x reader; Past: Sapnap x Karl x Quackity x reader

trigger warnings: maybe some swearing, slight descriptions of a panic attack, slight drinking

premise: After L'manburg was destroyed, two of your fiancées seemed to disappear. With just Sapnap left, you had been scared, but he assured you that the right thing to do was split up to try and find Quackity and Karl. And, well, you found Quackity, but when He found Karl.... something else had taken over, and suddenly Kinoko Kingdom was more important than finding you and quackity again. But thats fine. You and Quackity had been together in the begining, so what did you need from the other two? Las Nevadas could fill the void they left,,, and it did, until they happened to come knocking, right as you were finally moving on.

{Also, parental unit for everyone in Las Nevadas, I love it, brain is going brr so hard}

{also also, purpled is the forgotten eldest child of the server and no the ufo does not get blown up}

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

"It's gone, (y/n) it's all gone," You said with disbelief, staring over the barren, ashy place that had once been L'manburg and El Rapids, "We couldn't stop him."

Sapnap took in a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "We were never could have. Even if the supplies weren't destroyed."

The remaining people had already cleared out, but you had only now come to see the damage, having been forced away from the battle by your fiancées.

"I could have helped." You fell to your knees, still staring at the wreckage.

Sapnap could only sigh at the broken look on your face. You had lost the only home you'd ever known, but what had he lost? Well, for one thing, Karl.

Karl was still no where to be found, and now it seemed that Quackity had disappeared.

He fiddled with the purple band that circled one of his fingers, "Look- we- we need to find Quackity and Karl. Q looked pretty bad the last time I saw him, and Karl-"

Resolutely you nodded, dragging yourself to stand, "Karl is Karl. He'll be happy that his statue missed being blown up. I think its Q we should be worried about. This place- El Rapids- that was everything to him."

"Well- how about you go find Quackity, and I go find Karl. We're bound to find them eventually if we split up." He offered.

You studied the look on his face, "You're covering for him. What's going on?"

Sapnap only shook his head.

Crossing your arms you turned toward the hill, and what was left of the prime path, "Quackity has the deed to some land. North of Spawn. Meet us there once you kind K, alright?"

"Okay." He said softly, leaning over to press a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Be safe." You advised, already starting away.

~~

It didn't take you very long to track down your Fiancé, in all the time you'd known him (much longer than you'd known the others), he hadn't changed too much.

So, when you made your way through the twisted paths near Pogtopia, he was up on the ridge, sitting on the rock that had for so long, doubled as a bench.

"It's good to see you're safe." You hugged your arms to your body, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

As soon as you were sitting next to him, he was leaning on you, "He destroyed everything- all that work- El Rapids-"

"I know." You wrapped your arms around him, finally letting your own tears fall, "I know."

"What are we gonna do? I just wanted a place for us- I just- I wanted to make a place for us- all we asked for was recognition- and now the only place that saw was recognizing us is gone."

It had taken a while for Quackity to stop talking about everything that had been destroyed. Even then he kept asking, "But- Just wanted to make a place for you guys, how are we gonna do that now?"

"We can still make a place," You assured him, even as you yourself were unsure, "We'll make our own little country. So far out where no one will be able to blow it up."

He seemed to take to the idea quickly, and that night, as the two of you sat together in the camp that had been made within the caverns of Pogtopia, he talked feverently of the country you two would make.

He talked of buildings, of businesses, and of wedding venues. The plans he made up that night, they were almost enough to make you forget about what had happened to your home.

"What about that land north of spawn?" You suggested, letting your head rest back on his shoulder.

Quackity thought about it for a moment, "I mean- its just some desert, but I think we could make it work."

"Good, I told Sap to meet us there once he found Karl."

He nodded, "We'll head up there, and start getting everything ready, and then when they're ready they can come up."

~~ This was how three months came to pass, with the busyness of planning the new city, the beginning of construction, the meetings with Sam to plan for the new economic system that the new country would spread through the lands.

Yet you still felt off. It had been that long and Karl and Sapnap had never returned, something must have gone horribly, horribly wrong. It nagged at you, constantly, Drove you sick with anxiety somedays.

"(y/n)."

You looked up from the designs for the next casino you had been going over, "Sam! I didn't know you were visiting today! What can I do for you?"

"Uhhh, I wasn't planning on it, you better come out here- it's Quackity, we had been discussing- some things. I don't know what happened but when he passed back through-" The creeper hybrid trailed off.

You quickly stood, rushing passed him and through the hall to the courtyard where Sam had left him, gasping for breath and tugging at his hair.

In an instant you were kneeling beside him, "Breath baby, breath."

"They- he- George- Kinoko- Sap- left- on purpose-" He blubbered.

"Hey, Q," You took his hands as gently as you could, "look at me. Breath, breath with me. Come on, breath."

Slowly, he began to calm down, and by the time Sam was long gone he slowly began to explain what happened.

"I was heading back from talking with Sam, I saw George outside the prison. He kept talking about something- about- Kinoko Kingdom..." He sighed.

"Kinoko- what?" You asked, confused.

He let his head drop into his hands, "Karl and Sapnap.... started another country- called Kinoko Kingdom... they didn't even wait for us."

You felt your heart drop, if you hadn't been holding his hands yours would've been shaking, "What-"

Quackity could only nod shakily as he pulled you into his arms.

"I told him to come back here- I told- why didn't they-" You muttered absently.

The only noise in the courtyard was from the fountains, and the small sniffles from the two of you.

You were still in a state of semi-shock and sadness when you felt his arms tighten around you.

"We don't need them anyway. Las Nevada's can prosper without them."

~~ "Purpled? You want to get him in on this?" Quackity frowned.

You shrugged, "He's a mercenary, he could be of some help around here."

Your fiancé studied your face for a moment, "No, that's not it. Why do you really want him here?"

"Look, he's-" You sighed, "The kids been through a lot. He doesn't really have anything anymore, he needs somewhere, someone at least. We owe that too him at least."

After a moment, he nodded, "I haven't spoken to him since I paid him for his help with that egg mess. He- didn't seem to like me being around."

"I'll try to find him, he'd talk to me, I'm sure of it." You stood up from your seat at the table.

"You're going now?" He asked, following you across to the coat room.

You nodded, tugging on your boots, "If I want to make it through to the Greater SMP before it gets dark. I'll see if Eret will let me stay the night, then I'll head out again."

"Be careful." Quackity advised once you were ready.

You pecked at his lips, "I always am."

The journey to the Greater SMP went quickly, and after a nights stay in Eret's castle, you had made your way to the UFO, disappointed to find it seemingly abandoned.

"How the hell am I supposed to find him if the one place he ever seems to be is empty." You muttered, glancing around the base of the UFO.

You shrugged off your knapsack, dropping it to the side, followed by the sword that had been at your hip, and then you began to climb.

Even the inside of the UFO was completely empty, devoid of any chests, crafting tables, or furnaces.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

You jumped, turning to find Purpled, in full netherite, sword gripped tight in his hand.

"I- We've been looking for you." You fumbled for an explanation, holding up your hands in a sort of surrender.

He scoffed, "I already did a job for you people, I'm busy now."

"Not for a job Purpled!" You couldn't help but exclaim, "Some people actually try to find you for more than just that."

"Then what do you want?" He snapped.

"Did Q tell you about Nevadas?"

Purpled frowned, "Yeah, he mentioned it."

"Well, I think you should join. Come in on the project."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

You sighed, "Look, Purpled, you- everyone here, in this smp, they don't care, they don't bother to know you. You- you don't really have a place here-"

"You think I don't know that?" Purpled's grip on his sword tightened.

"So, If you come with us, join Las Nevadas, you can have a place- have people who care. You need people, Purpled."

"I don't Need anyone." He insisted.

You sighed, "Someday your going to have to see that that's not true. Please consider joining Las Nevadas, no one here cares, but we do."

"That's not true," He said bitterly, "You just need me to do another god damned job."

With a shake of your head you turned, preparing for the climb back down, "Purpled, this smp isn't kind to children, but I think it's been the most unfair to you. Out here your being forgotten, but you might not be if you join us."

~~

At the base of the UFO you were surprised to find a strange, slimly looking boy digging through your bag.

"Hey!" You yelled, "Don't touch that! It's not yours!"

He looked up and froze, realizing he'd been caught.

You snatched your things away from him, quickly unsheathing your sword, "Who are you?"

"Uhhhh, I'm a meat person- same as you!" He offered.

"You- you're- uh-" You sputtered for a moment confused, "Why were you touching my things?"

"Uhhhhh, Dap me up!" He said avoiding the question.

You stared at him for a moment, "I don't have time for this."

As you started back toward the prime path you heard him call, "Nice to meet you (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

"How do you know my name?" You demanded, whirling around.

"Oh, I know a lot of things." He laughed, "I see lots 'a stuff."

You frowned, "Uh huh. I'm gonna- walk away now."

~~ A week had passed, and there was still no signs of Purpled, nor Fundy or Foolish, (both of whom Quackity had gone to speak to whilst you were away), coming to Las Nevadas.

You were sure that Purpled would come around eventually, but had no faith that anyone else would join Las Nevadas, until you had heard a strange noise in the night.

It had been a cross between a clang and a yell, and then almost like something being dragged.

You had been going over some of the contracts you had been preparing for if anyone ever did show up when you'd heard it, and your fiancé seem to be gone from his own office, and your bedroom even, so quickly you armed yourself with your sword before hurrying out after the noise.

The streets of Las Nevadas were still partially lit by street lamps as you hurried along, it didn't take you long to find your fiancé, just outside of city limits, pacing In front of a strange looking hole.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hissed.

"Hey! It's (y/n) from Las Nevadas!"

You jumped at the voice, turning to see that no, the hole wasn't green, that the same slime boy from before was sitting in it.

"You! What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed.

"Quackity from Las Nevadas put me in this hole!" He said cheerfully.

Quackity grabbed your shoulder, turning you away from Slime and the hole, "You know him?"

"He was trying to look through my stuff after I talked to Purpled," You explained, glancing back over at the hole, "Said he sees just about everything, uhh, as far as I can tell, he's like the hybrids- but- weirder."

"Nope! I'm just a totally goopless guy! I'm bones and stuff!" He called from the hole.

"Oh god we have crazy people here." Quackity muttered scrubbing a hand over his face.

You moved to crouch next to the hole, "What- uh- What are you doing here buddy?"

"Oh I'm just oozing around. Dap me up!"

Confused, you complied, nervously laughing as he grinned at the handshake.

"I found him spying in the restaurant." Quackity sighed.

"What's spying?" The boy in the hole asked, "I just listen."

"Yeah well tell me exactly what you heard or I'll ill you right now!" Quackity threatened, pulling out his sword.

He hummed, "Well, I saw you, and I saw (y/n) from Las Nevadas. And there was a green guy, and a purple guy. I know of a Red guy, dead guy but he's not dead anymore-"

Your breath hitched, "Dead guy?"

"Yeah, looked real ashy- maybe even ...sooty?..." He confirmed.

Quackity glanced back at you, "And he's not dead anymore?"

"No. He's weird now. Got gray hair instead of grey skin. Used to run a country- got blown up though."

"How much have you seen man?" You asked, incredulous.

He shrugged, "I mean, I move slow but I've seen a lot. Lately a lot of conversations about taking advantage of the ever so fragile human psyche through gambling."

"Holy shit." you muttered.

Quackity glared up into the night sky, almost looking for an answer.

Shifting closer too look at the boy you frowned, "What's all that green stuff?"

"Oh- those are just- my totally normal- human parts! I'm a person!" He grinned.

You sighed, "Uhh, look, what's your name? Like how I'm (y/n) from Las Nevadas, who are you?"

"Oh, I'm goop from the ground!" He smiled for a moment before realizing his mistake, "I mean- I'm a meat person!"

Quackity still seemed to be praying to the sky, not paying any attention.

"Goop from the ground," You muttered, slowly connecting the dots, "Well, uhh, goop, how bout I give you a regular person name?"

"A person name? Oh boy!" He laughed.

You thought for a moment longer, "How about- Charlie?"

Charlie grinned, somehow even wider than before, "Woah! I have a real human name! Like any other regular human meat person!"

"Yep, you do." You chuckled.

"And, to be clear, I definitely am one of those, and not a piece of goop, that's slowly come to the surface, hiding as a person!"

As you continued to talk with Charlie, Quackity seemed to come to a realization, "He's like an accidental spy!"

And, when you helped him out of the hole Quackity was quick to say, "Well, this- this- was- was uh a formal greeting! Yeah that's what we call them!"

"Wow!" Charlie mused.

The walk back to Las Nevadas was quiet, until Charlie turned to you, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas, if I'm Charlie- where- where?"

You smiled, "Do you want to be Charlie from Las Nevadas?"

~~

By the end of the same week, after having gotten Charlie fully on board, and slight agreement from Foolish, word finally came from Purpled.

You'd been working on the next phase of the whole Nevadas Project when Charlie rushed in, "(y/n) from Las Nevadas! There's someone here!"

You frowned, "Who?"

"Purpled from UFO!" He practically yelled.

Standing, you tucked your papers away, "That's perfect Charlie, thank you. Do you want to come with to help show him around?"

He nodded, following you out of your office.

Outside, you found Purpled, along with his dog, looking up at the casino in awe.

"Purpled! You came!" You called cheerfully.

The boy turned, a strange expression you couldn't read on his face, "What? No 'I told you so'? No 'I knew you'd come around eventually'?"

You shrugged, "I'm just glad you finally came."

He sighed, "It's not like they needed me anywhere else."

You put a hand on his shoulder, "That's alright, We need you here."

"They- I went to tell Ponk I was leaving," Purpled sounded too broken, too tired, "He said he was too busy to talk to me."

Before you could say anything, he continued, "I had a house, near L'Manhole. I- I uh blew it up, to see what would happen," His shoulders began to shake, ever so slightly, as he finished in a whisper, "No one even noticed."

In one quick move you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into a hug, "It's okay Kid, it'll be okay now."

That was how your fiancé found you, standing outside the main casino, a teen all but sobbing into your shirt, Charlie looking on confused.

~~

And so, the time passed, Las Nevadas grew, and you and your new little family did along with it.

Quackity found it funny, really, your ability to bring people onto your side be connecting with them emotionally, and as he put it, all but adopting them.

Charlie still took up a room in the apartments you and Quackity staid in above the offices. Purpled would come over when things around the country weren't so busy, and you'd talk for hours, Foolish joining in some of the time.

Fundy, on his first night in the city, had broken down to you, the same as Purpled, but you'd helped him put himself together. Though Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo didn't have official places in Las Nevadas, it seemed a chunk of their time was spent there.

Yep, that was your new strange family. You, Your fiancé and the kids but not really young enough to still be kids you accidently adopted.

Now, you reflected on this quietly, from the top of the needle.

"You okay?" Quackity asked softly, looking over at you.

You chuckled softly, "Can you believe that it's been two years?"

"No, can you?"

You shook your head, "You know, I've been thinking. A long time ago, you told me we were better off with out Karl and Sapnap."

He watched silently, as you pulled the other two rings that you had kept, holding them up by the chain they were strung on.

"Maybe- you were right- and maybe it's finally time to get married. Just us. We didn't need them to get here, we won't need them for anything else."

A small smile slipped onto Quackity's lips, "Would you marry me?"

"You already know the answer to that." You chuckled.

"So it's a yes?"

"Obviously." You scoffed.

"When should we have the ceremony then?" He asked.

"Right now," You mused, "We opened that wedding hall for a reason, right? We could get married proper, right now. It's already decorated the way Tubbo originally planed."

He laughed, "Let's do it tomorrow that way we have time to get like, notices out and shit."

You smiled, "Of course."

The sun had begun to set during this discussion, and you looked out over the peaceful landscape with a soft sigh, yes, this, this was home.

And even as you heard Charlie tripping and crashing his way up the stairs, the thought still filled your head.

"Quackity and (y/n) from Las Nevadas!" He exclaimed, "Purpled from Las Nevadas found some people by the border!"

In an instant, both you and Quackity were standing, "What were they doing?"

"Looking around, real weird like. Fundy From Las Nevadas said they might be here to attack us! I hope they aren't."

You followed Quackity past him and back down from the tower, drawing your sword as Charlie called out where he had left Purpled and the mystery people.

What you found was not what you expected.

Purpled stood, sword drawn and pointed at the men you least expected to see now.

Karl looked scared, tucked back behind Sapnap who was moving to draw his own sword.

Not another move!" You barked, moving to stand in line with Purpled.

Karl's face light up upon seeing you, "(y/n)! Quackity! I missed you!"

"Did you?" Quackity spit.

"Sapnap drop your sword." You commanded, not paying attention to the strange look on their faces, no one, and I mean no, pulled a sword on your family.

He frowned, "Wh- (y/n) don't be like that. I get it- but- why..."

"What are your intentions? Why have you come here?" You asked.

"We wanted to find you!" Karl said, "We missed you (y/n)."

"Uhh, that's (y/n) from Las Nevadas to you." Charlie said.

Quackity sighed, grabbing Charlie by the collar and pulling him back, "Sorry- he's been learning sass and sarcasm lately."

"Still, what are you doing here?" You pushed.

"We wanted to find you! You've been gone so long, we thought we'd go looking." Sapnap explained.

"We've been gone?" You scoffed, "You were the ones who disappeared."

Karl moved forward, grabbing your left hand, and Quackity's right, "We just wanted to come back, to finally get married."

You pulled away, slowly sheathing your sword, "You can't be serious?"

"What do you mean?" Karl asked, the smile just beginning to drip off his face.

"You fucking left us- We were just trying to make a place for the four of us to be safe and you left us! And now you want back? Out of the blue?" Your voice steadily grew louder, "You cannot show up here after abandoning us like that!"

Quackity gently took your hand, murmuring, "(y/n)..."

"No. They don't get to do this!" You turned to him, watching his face change upon seeing the mix of anger and sadness in your eyes.

"W- We'll talk about this tomorrow, away from the kids," He asserted, for once not earning any protest about age from Purpled or Fundy, "Charlie, you think you can take these guys on a tour of the place?"

He nodded eagerly, "This way this way!"

As Sapnap, Karl, Purpled and FUndy began to trudge after him, Quackity turned to you, "(y/n)?"

You just shook your head, pulling your hand out of his and starting away.

~~ Purpled had followed the tour party quietly, taking a page from Charlie's book and watching, observing everything.

He had seen the pain in your face at the suggestion of marriage, and the anger in Quackity's just upon seeing them.

So, he followed the men warily, watching the way Karl exclaimed about how he had built an Effile tower just like the one in the city in Manberg, and the way that Sapnap mentioned fondly how the décor at the wedding hall matched the ones you two had always spoken about.

Hearing it nearly drove him mad. Did they not realize that it had all been for them? That dreams of them arriving were the only thing that had ruled Your and Quackity's minds?

When Charlie had directed the group, which by now included some of the other tourists, past one of the bars, he stopped.

Inside, Quackity was slumped at the bar, a bottle of whiskey in hand.

"Drinking away your problems won't solve them." Purpled sighed, pulling the bottle away from him.

"We were doing so good without them. You know that Purp. But here they are, back and ready to fuck things up again. That's how it's always been." He muttered.

The boy shook his head, "They don't realize how destructive they are? Do they?"

"Never have." He sighed.

"Lets get you back home."

Quackity allowed himself to be manhandled into standing, and then led out of the bar, back toward the offices, and toward the apartment.

"(y/n) will figure it out. They always do." Purpled assured him, pulling open the apartment door and ushering him in.

"But they shouldn't have too," He sighed, running a hand through his hair, not bothered by the way his beanie fell to the floor, "They've dealt with so much without help. Yet they're always the ones to help us."

~~

Once he had wrangled Quackity into the bedroom, Purpled headed back out, finding Fundy at the base of the Needle, "They up there?"

"Yeah," The hybrid sighed, "Quackity?"

"Got drunk. He's- painfully coherent though." He winced.

Fundy ran a hand through his hair, "It's hard to believe one of the nicest people around is the one to fuck them up like this."

"Makes perfect sense to me," Purpled said as they began to make their way toward the stairs, "My first night here- I was having a hard time, because- the whole server acted like I didn't exist. (y/n) told me about how Sapnap and Karl had abandoned them."

"Did it seem this bad though?" Fundy asked.

"No- but that was before they turned up again talking about marriage."

By now they had reached the top of the tower, and Purpled could see where you sat by the ledge, feet dangling over. Quietly, they both sat down on either side of you.

"How's Q?" You asked quietly after a moment.

"Drunk, but back at your apartment, well supplied with water." Purpled reported.

You nodded, "And K and- Karl and Sapnap?"

"Waaay to blissfully ignorant." Fundy said.

Quiet held you three in silence for a moment, until at last Purpled sighed, asking, almost bitterly, "So- are you gonna marry them? You were going to once."

"Even if I did it wouldn't change anything here." You mumbled.

"Sapnap was talking about how cool it would be to come back and visit from Kinoko after the honeymoon." Fundy admitted.

Before you could say anything Purpled drew one of his knees to his chest, "I- don't- it feels like they'd be taking you away from us- I like it the way it is. Things are nice, and they're just fucking it up."

Fundy nodded, "As much as I hate to say it, he's right. If you people all get married nothing will be the same. I kind of liked having parental figures, I don't want them messing that up."

"They won't." You promised softly.

By god, if you hadn't already made up your mind, their words would've swayed you.

~~ After a while, you stood, "Let's go home."

They followed you tiredly, Charlie joining the mini procession at one intersection, telling you that Sapnap and Karl had gone to get a hotel room.

At the apartment, Quackity was sitting on the couch, already seeming more sober than Purpled had told you. When you sat next to him, his arms were quick to wrap around you, holding you like a lifeline.

Charlie took his place on the other side of the couch, Purpled curled up in the armchair, and Fundy dug around until he found one of the old projectors he'd left there, queuing up a movie.

"Hey, just like on Nightmare's days!" Charlie laughed, referring to the infamous 16th, where, just about every month it seemed you, Fundy, Quackity and sometime Purpled would have nightmares of the Manburg Pogtopia war, and everyone would congregate in the living room to watch one of Fundy's movies.

"Sure as hell feels like one." Quackity muttered.

And so you watched the movie, though your thoughts drifted, thinking of how you would deal with your reappearing ex-fiancés.

As you thought, you created a mini script in your head. Exactly what you would say came you.

"You didn't need us then, and we don't need you now."

Yes, you thought, leaning more into Quackity's side, thats what you'd say, after you talked about your new family.

(and the next day, you did just that)

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Stitches // 17

Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

Summary: Frank fears he'll become the person he used to be at the end of it all.

Warnings: angst, cursing, mention of blood and broken bones, knife violence

Raise your hand if you're worried about how this is all going to play out 😬🙋🏽‍♀️

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 BONUS

MASTERLIST

—

Y/N’s POV

This can’t be happening

“Is she going to be alright?” Frank squeezed my shoulder as we looked at her through the glass door of the ICU room she’s in. My sweet Amy is hooked up to so many machines, I could barely recognize her.

“She suffered a lot of trauma to her chest cavity and skull. She has two broken ribs and there is minor swelling in her brain from the impact, we’re monitoring that closely for any changes at all. The trauma she experienced to her head has her in a coma and even though we are hopeful that she’d wake up, there is the possibility that she might not.” hot tears flowed from my eyes as I broke down in Frank’s arms; this wasn’t supposed to happen. How could this happen?

“Are we allowed to go in at least?”

“You can.”

“Thank you doc.” Frank tried his best to comfort me, rubbing his hand up and down the length of my back. I could barely breathe from the intensity of my sobs into his chest.

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be alright shhhh, forget what he said, Amy’s strong she’s going to wake up sooner or later.” he kissed my forehead, holding onto me tighter in the process. I heard the familiar sound of Matt’s cane tapping the ground and turned my head in the direction it’s coming from; Matt, Foggy and Karen followed Brett over to us.

“Y/N- Oh God.” Karen gasped and looked away from the room.

“Where is that son of a bitch, Mahoney?” we know Amy was with Jacob and they found her in his car, we have yet to get any word about how he’s doing or if he survived at all. I could feel Frank’s anger radiating off of him, we both need answers as to what went down tonight and he has them.

“We should talk in the room.” pulling away I sucked in a deep breath and waddled into the room with Brett and Frank trailing behind. I pulled the chair closer to her and sat down, gently taking her hand in mine.

“The department got a call from one of the residents in the nearby complex about the car crash and by the time the first responders arrived on the scene they only found Amy pinned in the front seat, the driver was long gone.”

—

Frank’s POV

“You’re telling me that bastard left her there and didn’t bother to call for help.”

I am livid, Jacob better hope that I don’t find him because he’ll wish that he had died behind that wheel when I get my hands on him. She could have died out there tonight and he walks away, fuck that.

“We don’t even know who the driver is-”

“Jacob Whitman, nineteen, about six foot tall, grey eyes, lean built. That’s the asshole that did this to her.” my hands gripped onto the foot of the bed in a death grip, my knuckles turning white as the image of the guy flashed before my eyes.

“Well damn, you wouldn’t happen to know his address also?” reaching forward I held onto her ankle and gently rubbed it; stay strong for me kid.

“No.”

Lie, I knew all there is to know about that prick, his birthday, favourite place to eat, places he frequents, his ailing mother warded at Metro Gen, all of it. Mahoney doesn’t need to know that though at least not until after I have a little chat with him.

“Okay, well at least I have something to start with.” he turned to leave but paused in his tracks.

“I’m sorry this happened, you guys have been through a lot already and I know how much the kid means to you both, especially you Frank. She’ll pull through this.” I nodded silently thanking him and he left. Not two seconds later the trio came in and I straightened up.

“Can you guys stay with Y/N while I go look for this asshole?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Frank..” Y/N called out to me, I know that tone very well. She’s warning me not to go kill the bastard but I'm really not up for taking orders from anyone. Amy’s in a hospital bed with a tube down her throat while that bastard is roaming freely.

“Don’t, sweetheart. You told me to ignore my suspicions and I did, maybe if I had told her not to go with him we wouldn’t be here. You told me to trust her judgement and this is what happened, she’s hooked up to so many damn wires with a machine keeping her alive.” I don’t have it in me to get into an argument with Y/N over this, it’s not her fault that any of this happened.

“You’re blaming me for this?”

“I’m not blaming you, I’m blaming myself.” without another word I stepped out into the hallway with Red hot on my trail.

“Now’s not the time, Red.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are.”

“Look, I know you and I have our differences but I know how much Amy means to you both so if I can help, I’ll help.” I gave him a once over and patted him on his shoulder in the process.

“You can help me by staying here with Y/N and the kid.”

—

People really shouldn’t leave their windows unlocked, especially the ones that lead to their fire escapes, you never know who or what can get in.

The sound of running water from the bathroom is the only sound filling this crappy ass apartment that Jacob is holed up in. I quietly manoeuvred further into his place, careful not to knock anything over in doing so.

I could handle this two ways, I can make myself comfortable and wait for him to finish his shower or I can bust in there and beat the shit out of him. Fuck that.

Option two it is.

I kicked the door in and crossed the room to the shower, his eyes looked like they were going to fall out his head, hell I just might knock them out myself.

“No-” my clenched fist connected with his temple, successfully knocking him out with one blow. Before he could drop to the floor I grabbed and dragged him out to his living room, dropping him down onto one of his chairs.

Taking the zip ties I brought with me out of my pocket I secured him to the chair, fighting the urge to gut him right here. I can’t kill him yet, I need to know what really went down in that car tonight; he has the answers and I am more than willing to beat them out of him if I have to.

There’s a gash on his leg, cuts and bruises scattered on his face and chest as well. He’s banged up pretty good, it should’ve been him in the hospital fighting to stay alive instead of her. Soon enough he’s going to wake up and wish that he hadn’t taken her out on that date.

—

Y/N’s POV

“We were doing so good, neither one of us getting into any kind of trouble as we moved forward with being a family. Christ, we’re about to have a little boy of our own and now Amy’s…she’s, God, why?”

I want to scream all my frustrations out and don’t stop until my lungs give out. I brushed my thumb on the back of her hand, forced to listen as the machine breathed for her. Although he said that he blamed himself for her being in this position, I know that there’s also a part of him that blamed me as well. I blame myself for completely letting my guard down, believing that Jacob was nothing more than just a regular guy that liked Amy.

“I’m the one at fault here, I should’ve listened to him in the beginning. If I had-”

“Aye, don’t do that. You couldn’t have known, this is not your fault at all.”

“It sure feels like it.”

—

Frank’s POV

Jacob groaned in pain, slowly waking up from the blow to the head. Dropping the magazine next to the knife on the table I kept my eyes trained on him as he took in his surroundings before landing his gaze on me.

“Morning sunshine, we need to talk.”

“How di-”

“What happened in that car, Jacob?” the muscles in my jaw ticked the longer I looked at the naked son of a bitch who chose to stay quiet. Lightly nodding I picked up the knife and stabbed the tip into the wooden table, twisting it, creating a dent in the tabletop.

“Don’t make me ask the same question twice, it won't end well for you.” he gulped as he looked at the weapon in my grasp.

“None of that was supposed to happen, I swear.” his lips quivered in fear as I rose to my feet.

“I was taking her to the waterfront to see the city lights, Amy was the one that swerved the car.” that made absolutely no sense to me, why would she crash the car if he was innocently taking her there? There’s more to that story.

“Amy wouldn’t have crashed the car unless she had a pretty damned good reason. Why’d she do it?” again, silence.

“Ahhhh!” Jacob’s screams filled the space as I pushed the blade deep into his thigh until it reached the handle, definitely doing some damage to his nerve, I couldn’t care less.

“You’re crazy!”

“Trust me, you don’t want to see how crazy I can be.” winding my hand in the mass of hair that sat on his head I yanked him backwards, forcing him to look up at me.

“You listen to me very carefully, you put my kid in the hospital and I’m ready to send you to the morgue for that but I need to know what happened tonight before I do.” he screamed again as I twisted the knife further.

“A man! That’s what I was taking her there for!”

Now we’re getting somewhere.

“I don’t know who he is or his name, he’s somewhat of a regular at the diner, he always requested that Amy serve him every time he came in. I never questioned why because he tipped her good and we could use all the tips we could get.”

“Description.”

“Caucasion, my height, brown hair, he always wears a suit, mid to late forties.”

Fisk probably has this man on his payroll, wouldn't put it past the bastard to send his men after her.

“During my third week working there he asked me if I wanted to make some extra money on the side and I blindly said yes without knowing what I was getting myself into.” The more he spoke the less I wanted to choke the life out of him. He’s just a kid that got caught up with the wrong people. Releasing him, I sat down in my seat again.

“What’d he offer you?”

“He said he’d pay me to get closer to her and get to know her better and report to him whatever information I got. That was our initial deal, then he called three days ago and said he’d pay me a large sum of money if I brought her to the waterfront this morning at one.”

“How much was my little girl worth asshole?”

“One million and before you say anything know that I couldn’t pass that kind of cash up. I have to take care of my mom and pay for college at the same time.”

Don't kill him Frank, there's a different way to deal with this.

“She told me to take her home and I refused, that’s when she grabbed the wheel and we crashed into a building.”

“And you left her there to die, you didn’t bother to try to get her out of there.”

“She was out cold and trapped. I’m such an idiot, I shouldn’t have gotten into this. I should’ve told him no-” his cries got drowned out by the blaring of his phone ringing on the table, unknown caller ID.

“You’re going to talk and forget that I’m even here. You say anything out of the ordinary I will not hesitate to snap your neck.”

“Okay..” I swiped to answer it and put it on speaker, Jacob swallowed before speaking.

“Hello.”

“What happened, Jacob?” a gruff voice came through the phone, I have never met this person before, his voice is foreign to me.

“There was an accident, she knew something was off.”

“Why didn’t you sedate her like I instructed?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Well now she’s in the hospital fighting to stay alive because of your stupid mistake. You better pray she survives or else I’ll pay dear old mom a visit before I kill you myself.” The call ended and I tossed the phone back on the table, Jacob hyperventilating at the mystery man’s threat.

Threatening the kid is one thing but bringing his sick mother into this only increases my desire to find this asshole.

“Listen kid, that bastard is not going to do anything to your mother alright.”

“You don’t know that Mr. Castiglione.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, kid. I’ll help you out of this mess but you have to promise me something.” he nodded frantically with his bloodshot eyes glued to my every move.

“I let you live and you walk away from this, all of it. I’ll get to the bottom of this mess and after that I don’t want to see you around, you’re going to leave Amy behind, forget about her completely. I don’t suppose I have to make that any more clearer to you.”

“N-no sir.”

“Good and another thing-” I balled my fist and punched him square in the face, I’m obviously still pissed off at the asshole.

“The next time a lady tells you to take her home, you take her home.” he groaned in pain and I left him there, using his front door this time.

Fucking asshole.

—

By the time I made it back to the hospital, the sun began to make its way into the sky, waking the city in its rise. Y/N fell asleep with her head on Amy’s hospital bed, still holding on to the kid’s hand.

How am I going to tell her someone’s after the kid?

We finally got to a good place, our son could be here any day now and with this, I fear I might slip back into old habits. I can’t do that to my family, I can’t afford to be that person again but I also can’t sit back and wait until Mahoney solves this.

I worked so hard on being a better man for my family and now this shit happens. No matter how many times I try to escape this part of me it always finds a way to rare its ugly head and I fear that it'll end up consuming me in the end.

Christ.

I wanted to kill Jacob, I wanted to watch the life drain out of his eyes as I drove the knife repeatedly into his body but in that moment all I heard was Amy's voice telling me not too. That piece of scum better take my advice and leave or else I'll really kill him for playing with her heart.

“Hey sweetheart.” my lips ghosted her cheek as I gently woke her up, she needs to lie down on a proper bed to sleep otherwise she’s going to have severe back pain later on.

“Frank?” rubbing her eyes, she sat up and released a heavy sigh.

“I should take you home to get some rest, we can come back later to check up on her.” she shook her head no and leaned back into her seat.

“Sweetheart.”

“Did you find him?” her hands rested on her bump as she spoke, averting her eyes from Amy’s unconscious body.

I can either lie and spare her the extra stress or tell the truth and have to restrain her from going out there to find this man herself. Come on Castle, make a decision.

“Frank?”

“No, he was long gone by the time I got to his place."

I feel bad for lying to her but it's for her own good, at least that's what I'm telling myself.

----

MARVEL Taglist:

@dorks2022 @n3ssm0nique @chrisfucksblog @sophiaedits @peakascum @anonymoustip217 @iiddaaa @mintphoenix @hardcoppizzasludge @panaitbeatrice @tanyaherondale @creatingjana @calimoi @rootcrop @louisianalady @thummbelina @vicmc624 @leyannrae @janaev4ns @queenofkings1212 @believinghurts @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @stumbleonmywords @inas-thing @blackcat420 @badasseddy @spiderlaufeyson @yesimwriting @blondekel77 @4-everm-0-re @sketch-and-write-lover @farfromjustordinary @haoluvver @garbinge @emmamooney @chanaaaannel @moonofheroin @glitch-bitch777 @overly-obsessed-with-you @marvel-swagger @bernthalbabe @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @youarethereasonimsmiling @bookloverfilmoholic @kobababy @mshannah @eliwinchester-barnes @punkdalek @myguiltypleasures21 @louloudeug99 @meowmeowyoongles @stitchattacks @bakingpotatoes21 @lemonlime09 @andrewgarfieldsbae @stitchattacks @inpraizeof @nightmonkeyparker @trinkets01

[hotwings0203]

fighter Bakugo is so mean!!…..write more of him plz 🤲 (ALSO I LOVE UR STORIES SO MUCHH❤️)

OOOUUUU TYSMMM I’m glad you’re enjoying him hehe

Alright let’s see here…

Tw:noncon, implied death, assault, gaslighting

He forces you to come to every one of his matches, after he has his way with you.

It doesn’t matter how brutal the fight is, it didn’t matter if you’re flinching every time his fists make contact with the poor schmuck’s face, knowing damn well that any day it could be yours. It doesn’t matter if he’s shaking off pieces of broken teeth from his hair while you’re clutching your stomach and puffing your cheeks, and it sure as hell doesn’t matter when others clamor around you asking if you were okay, if you needed a doctor.

None of that mattered, because in the end all those scenarios ended the same way: with one of his feet planted on the unconscious body below him, a fist in the air and a mean smile straight at you.

You weren’t allowed to excuse yourself to the restroom or close your eyes when the men around him scream and need at him to either stop the match or to keep going Bakugo, knock the bastard out.

And when he won the match-which was every time-he would make a beeline straight towards your cowering, backing-away form and yank you by your wrist into the office to let out his excess adrenaline.

Your cries could be heard from the entire basement.

On one particular day however, you stop your compliance. It’s when you catch a glimpse of Katsuki’s opponent for the next day.

He’s a young man, no more older than you were.

He’s a meek guy, his smile is oh-so reminiscent of the man you used to like before Bakugo put him in the morgue.

You can’t have a repeat of last time. He doesn’t stand a chance.

“What’s got you all quiet today,” he gruffly asks you as he wraps a hand with tape.

You bite your lip and look at your feet. What’s the best way to go about this?

“You, um…y’know that guy that you’re supposed to fight today?”

“Yeah, what about it?” He raises an eyebrow in warning.

But you continue nonetheless. It’s not like your destiny was flock to change, hed still fuck you up regardless of what you do.

“He just seemed kind of…young.” You stammer and avoid eye contact.

It’s hard not to flinch when he stops wrapping his hand and walks over towards you. He crouches to your sitting position on the bed and lowers his head to look at your gaze on the ground.

“‘That remind you of someone?”

Crap. He’s not as stupid as you hoped for.

This time, you do look up at him, eyebrows scrunched together in a pleading way, and he laughs in your face at your pathetic state.

“Lemme guess, you don’t want me to fight him?”

You nod your head.

“Well, what do I get out of it in return?”

Your eyes widen as you comprehend what he’s saying. Was there actually a chance he’d listen to you?

“Hello? Answer me dumbass.”

Oh, right.

“Um, what-what would you like?” Fingers cross behind your back as you pray to anyone listening that he won’t ask for anything derogatory.

It’s almost laughable that you don’t know him well enough by now.

Bakugo walks around the bed and settles himself against the headboard, legs spread and arms crossed over behind his head. He smirks at you and nudges you with his toe.

“Dance for me.”

“D-dance? What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he sits up and leans towards you, his smile all teeth and cutthroat undertones, “I want you to shake your ass on my dick and give me a lap dance.”

Fire rushes to your face at his crude choice of words. You open your mouth to argue but stop when his unwrapped hand flexes, bones popping in place as he inspects it casually.

He doesn’t need to say anymore to get his point across. But if you had any doubts as to who was the one who wanted a chance in the first place, he reminds you with a curt “You can always say no. I’ll let you walk out this door and you can just watch me beat the living daylights out of him,” he shrugs and says it so easily, so casually that you’d think he was informing you of the weather.

You swallow hard and shakily rise to your feet.

Katsuki already locked the door, so you don’t need to worry about anyone coming in. You look at him and take a deep breath.

“How do I, like, y’know.”

He stares at you for a moment and bursts out howling , the bellowing sound echoing across the small room and making your head ring.

You look at him warily as he lessens his laughter, and tries to address you.

“I knew it. You really are a brain-dead, numb cunt,” he says as he wipes his eyes from tears. “Just fucking- I don’t know, sway your hips back and forth and put it in reverse on me I guess. Arent whores supposed to be good at these things?” He leans back down comfortably and leers at you while you grimace and then back around, ass facing him.

You’ve only messed around on your own time in your room before, shaking it to slow R&B songs or fast pop ones. How do you go about this with no music?

But within a minute you gather yourself and toss your dignity away. You start imagining a beat in your head and do exactly as he instructed, swaying your sides left and right while moving your shoulders with whatever rhythm you deemed easy.

He stifles a snicker behind you, and you dig your nails into your palm. It was obvious he was trying to be completely silent just to amplify the awkwardness and humiliation tenfold, but dammit if this is what he wants then might as well get it over with.

You begin leaning forward and sticking your rear out more towards him, simultaneously rubbing your hands up and down your sides and flicking your hair with ease in his line of sight. You roll your head and roll your ass in a circle, praying it wasn’t too jerky.

Katsuki wasn’t laughing anymore.

Your confidence starts to grow again as you hear him softly inhale when you crawl backwards slowly onto the bed. You drop your hips low and arch your back, rolling your spine and lifting your ass back up into the air, shaking it in his face as best as you could.

You stay like that, letting it bounce slowly and then faster while you hear his breathing lick up. The sheets around you pull slightly towards him, and from the corner of your eye you can see his fists balling tbe covers, shaking slightly.

Looks like this was having more of an effect on him than you thought.

Just to sell it home, you lower your pelvis back and against his crotch as you begin grinding on him.

His shirts are silky and thin, and as you drag your mound up and down his imprint you can’t help but moan. The way your puffy clit catches on the elevations and ridges of his clothed dick, the feeling of his length swelling beneath your moist panties makes your head spin and all precautions are thrown out the window.

Your ass lightly claps together on his slightly thrusting hips as his breaths become pants. You feel his hands slide up your ass and onto your hips as he growls, “Teasing slut. And here you had me thinking you didn’t know what you were doing. Strip.”

Your body stills and you blanch. Your head clears a bit as his own body stops moving against yours, and you realize what position you’re about to be in.

Your head turns slightly to face him. “Kats-“

But he yanks your hair from the ends back until you’re scrambling for solid ground against his toned chest. Your fingers grab your torn strands and try to yank them out of his unrelenting grip. Your eyes well with tears of pain as he gets more aggressive with your subtle hesitation.

“I said, strip, now.” He shakes your head for good measure and you yelp when you feel more hairs ripped out of your aching skull.

“Okay! Okay, I’ll strip.” You blubber, snapping your head forward when he finally lets go.

You look back at him tearfully, hunching over into yourself as his hands guide your shirt up over your stomach and begin massaging your tits.

You hurry to take your pants off before he can wound you any more in his childlike impatience, and he grunts in approval when you’re down to your panties and no bra.

“Bend over.”

This time, you don’t argue when you go on all fours and his rough hand shoves your upper back down until you’re in an arch that’s satisfactory enough for him. He lets his fingers dance over your spine and linger when they get lower down your back.

Your upper body shakes with anticipation as all goes silent, save for his soft inhales. You can feel his digits run over the crack of your ass and lift the top of your panty line up, your labia and clit being pulled up as well.

Katsuki smirks as you weakly moan beneath him, and he tugs harder upwards just to see your ass follow in pursuit. He rubs his knuckles over the damp spot over your clothed hole and pushes in ever so slightly, just enough to make you keen and whimper.

Then, he retreats his touch.

The air is still for a moment or two as the cold absence of his touch fades.

You have no idea what he’s doing or thinking. For the second time, you try to turn your head towards him.

“Wha-“

Crack.

You scream so loud you’re sure your eardrums pop, but your focus isn’t on your poor ears, no, it’s on the raging hot burn across your right asscheek as his reddened hand swivels in its socket in a warm-up stretch. You’re experiencing for the first time what the hands of a fighter can do.

“That’s what whiny bitches like you get. And don’t you dare turn back around, otherwise I’ll whip you within an inch of your life.”

Your body freezes at those terrifying words, and you’re caught off guard when the next slap hits the same cheek. You yowl in pain and grip the sheets tighter before you, knowing that writhing away would mean so much worse.

Years of cute and open wounds and cells revealing just to open again and regrow have caused his hands to hold a similar texture to hard leather. There is no mercy, there is no soft reprieve they hold on their grasps, and you take each lashing with the reminder that he deals these kinds of blows to less fortunate men, men who don’t get a hold-back from Katsuki Bakugo.

“The next time you-crack- bitch about who I’m fighting-crack, crack- I’ll make sure to fuck you in the ring and let everyone- crack- have a turn with you- fuck, stop fucking screaming!”

He covers your wailing mouth with one hand and grips your throat in the other, bringing your head back to his seething lips.

“You wanted this, didn’t you? What’s wrong, why’re you crying so fucking much baby? Didnt you want to spare one more spineless bastard?” He croons in your ear and strokes your cheek with one finger.

You shake in his chokehold, terrified and in pain. You squeeze the tears out from your eyes and try to steady your breathing. He shushes your sobs and cooes when you hiccup against his palm.

“Hmm, Y/N? Whaddaya say, you wanna spare one more dickless wonder? Or are you gonna chicken out and save yourself?”

He chuckles darkly when you shake your head. He doesn’t need you to speak to already know your answer.

“Alright then, whatever you want. But just letting you know, I have the next match with him, so I’ll have to make this fast.”

And as he fucks you to oblivion, and fucks over his promise, you laugh to yourself for ever trusting him.

Because Katsuki Bakugo is not a lover, but rather, a fighter.

[baroquebucky]

one and only

a/n: hi guys !! this one shot is inspired by this song by cuco ! I hope u all enjoy,, I went overboard again,, pls tell me what u think :] lyrics are in bold !

in which bucky slowly but surely falls for you

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

I hope that you wanna get to know me

Bucky smiled at you from across the coffee shop, both of you stealing glances at each other for the past hour. Finally mustering up some courage and walking to your booth.

"hi" he had breathed out, a smile on his face as you looked at him with wide eyes, a smile quickly breaking across your face.

"hi" you smiled, extending your hand out for him to shake, "y/n."

Bucky shook your hand quickly, pink dusting his cheeks, "I'm bucky."

"do you wanna sit? I can move some stuff so you have some room" you spoke quickly, fumbling as you moved all your homework and notebooks to the side, stacking them on top of each other.

Bucky slid into the booth with a soft smile, quickly striking up a conversation, flirting with you the whole time.

"I have to go soon" you frowned, putting all your stuff away as bucky got up from the booth. He held a hand out, helping you up and paying for both of your drinks and snacks.

"I had a really nice time" bucky flashed you a smile, your ears heating up.

"I- uh yeah I did too" you replied, looking at your feet as the two of you walked out of the coffee shop.

The two of you exchanged numbers, a bashful grin on both of your faces as you parted ways.

"text me when you get home" you had told him out of habit, blushing when you realized you had only met him today.

"I mean you don't have to" you added, fumbling with the string on your backpack.

"only if you do the same" he replied, a smirk on his face as your mouth formed an 'o' shape.

Bucky had texted you first, making your heart flutter. exchanging a few texts that night, bucky decided to get real brave.

I hope we can hang out again soon :)

And sure enough you did, meeting up at his favorite coffee shop only three days later. Getting to know each others interests.

As time passed you and bucky became closer, getting lunch together, texting each other often, having late phone calls almost everyday.

baby hit me up if you get lonely

You and bucky never really opened up to each other, even after one month of your little coffee and lunch dates. And so there you were, staring at your bedroom ceiling with an empty heart, dried tears on your face.

Your phone vibrated next to you, lighting up the room. You let it ring, not having enough energy to pick it up.

Bucky grew worried, you never just left him hanging like that, you always replied with why you didnt pick up within minutes. It had been an hour already.

everything okay ?

your phone buzzed and you looked over, seeing his missed call and texts. Sighing you replied, not wanting to bother him.

yea, just tired

Bucky frowned, his stomach twisting as he read your reply. Thinking for a moment before he texted you once again.

im here if you need me or need anything

Your bottom lip quivered, fresh tears streaming down your face.

do you think you can come over

your heart was heavy, you were stressed, tired and you wanted someone to tell you it was gonna be okay, instead you were alone in the dark, in an empty apartment with only the sounds of the city keeping you company.

on my way

Bucky was sweet. Bucky was caring and he was everything good in the world. Listening to you as you cried, dumping all your worries out into the air, rubbing your back and handing you tissues, getting you water.

He listened, he reassured you and he helped you through it, never being pushy and always reminding you that you were strong enough to get through it.

"and if im not?" you had whispered, looking at the floor with teary eyes.

"then im here to fight for you."

I know im not confused, my feelings here are true

Bucky opened up to you a few nights later, after ignoring your texts all day you showed up at his apartment, snacks in one hand and coffee in the other.

You listened to him vent, letting out all he had bottled up, all his guilt, his regret, his pain, everything.

You didnt judge him, you just got up, sat closer to him and hugged him, holding him tightly. Bucky relaxed in your arms, burying his face in your shoulder and letting himself cry, allowing himself to be vulnerable for once.

You woke up in each others arms the next morning, blushing when you both realized.

Bucky was red, you were about to start sweating, telling him you were gonna head home and would text him when you arrived.

After that he found himself more nervous around you, butterflies when he saw you. For the first time in decades he found himself styling his hair more and putting effort into his outfits.

on gloomy days like these wishing you were next to me

You sat on your couch alone, rain hitting your window steadily. You sent a text to bucky, asking him when he would be back from a mission he got dragged along. He replied quicker than you expected, your heart beating a little faster.

just a couple more days :)

okay hurry back safe I miss u :/

Bucky choked on his own spit at your text, Sam looking at him as if he was insane. Bucky ignored him, replying to your message

I miss you too dollface

You read the text over, squealing and jumping around at the pet name, face hot and stomach fluttering.

when im feeling puzzled, you put me back together

Bucky frowned, barely listening to you explaining a documentary you watched the other day.

"buck?" you asked, setting down your phone and looking at the super soldier, worry in your eyes.

"sorry I- what about the jungle?" he questioned, trying to push away his thoughts.

"talk to me James" you pleaded, hands moving to hold his own.

A few moments passed, quiet as bucky gathered his thoughts, tears welling in his eyes before he blinked them away and began talking.

"what if a part of him is still there? what if im not who Steve thought I was? what if im not what people want me to be?" bucky looked at you, teary eyed and broken.

"you're free bucky" you told him, scooting closer to him and he nodded.

"Steve would be proud of you, I mean look at you, you have a furnished apartment, you have friends, you're working with sam, you're building your life" you spoke, smiling at him.

"you shouldn't care what others want you to be, be who you want to be. Be who you are now" you squeezed his hands, letting him gather his thought as you stopped talking.

"am I good?" he mumbled, a small frown on his face.

"you are" you replied without hesitation.

"you like me as who I am now?" you nodded.

"me too" he smiled, leaning his head on your shoulder, your fingers brushing through his hair.

I wanna be your one and only

Bucky finally introduced you to sam, you were excited, having heard so much about him.

"what if he hates me" you worried, stopping in your tracks as you paced buckys living room.

"he'll love you doll" bucky reassured you, a knock at the door making your heart thump in your ribcage as you waited for bucky to open it.

And love you Sam did, talking your ear off and chatting with you all night. You struggled to catch your breath between his jokes, stomach hurting as he continued.

bucky hated it. only he had made you laugh that hard, the crinkles by your eyes were reserved for him and his bad jokes. bucky got up quietly and went to grab a cup of water, sam quickly excusing himself and following him into his kitchen.

"you are down bad" sam laughed and bucky rolled his eyes at him, gulping down his water, setting the cup down, eyes softening as he saw you on his couch, replying to some texts.

"you should ask her out soon, or else I will" sam teased, knowing it would push the super soldiers button.

"sam is actually leaving right now!" bucky smiled, sam rolled his eyes before playing along.

"aw, it was just getting good" you smiled, getting up and going to give sam a hug, wishing him a good night before he left.

You and bucky sat on the couch, the sounds from the movie filling the room.

"green isn't your color" you smirked, bucks eyes went wide.

"what?" he questioned, heart racing.

"cmon im not stupid, you were cranky the whole time sam was cracking jokes" you shrugged your shoulders, eyeing bucky.

Bucky was quiet, Sams words ringing in his ears.

"I like you y/n and I've liked you for a while and I-" he stopped himself, not wanting to say something he would regret. You let him think, heartbeat ringing in your ears as his confession rattled around in your brain.

"I want to be the one making you laugh, I want to spend rainy days with you and I want to go to the park with you on sunny days" bucky spoke, looking at you.

"I wanna be your one and only" bucky ended, eyes searching your face as he finished, worried about what you were thinking.

You had the biggest smile on your face, fidgeting with your fingers. Looking up your eyes met his blue ones, stomach in knots and heart skipping a beat.

"ask me then" you stated, never breaking eye contact.

"will you be mine y/n?" he spoke, voice trembling, he fidgeted with his fingers.

"of course" you replied, crashing your lips onto his, smiling into the kiss, breaking out into giggles when he pulled away and peppered kisses all over your face.

and if never is forever, then lets always be together

Sam pat bucky on the back, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Steve would be so happy for you" he whispered to him, a smile breaking onto his face, nodding to sam and looking up.

The whole team was there, sam standing behind him as his best man, your family with bright faces as the music began and everyone looked back.

The doors opened and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. His mouth fell open at the sight of you. His cheeks hurt from smiling so hard but he didn't care, tears falling from his face as you smiled brightly at him.

You spent the whole ceremony the same way you had met. Stealing glances at each other and blushing deeply when you caught each other, holding back giggles and brushing it off as clearing your throat.

You were marrying the light of your life, the person who was there for you when you couldn't see the light, the one who always supported you and fought for you when you couldn't. Helping you grow into the person you wanted to become.

He was marrying the light of his life, the person who was his sun during his worst times, shining brightly for him and picking him up when he was upset. Helping him become the person he was meant to be.

[tteokdoroki]

awake with you | s.todoroki

♡ pairing: shoto todoroki x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 1.7K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: ua student!au, angst, comfort, fluff.

♡ summary: during the night, bad things happen but your boyfriend is always there to keep them away. by your side always, shoto todorki makes it his mission to fight your demons and make sure you know that you’re loved.

♡ warning(s): please read ! character death, mentions of car accidents, nightmares, guilt, lack of sleep, but a lot of fluff and the best boyfriend in the whole world :(

♡ author’s note(s): guys! it’s shoto’s birthday, so here i am postiing this shoto request from anon a while back, i hope you all enoy and have celebrating the beautiful boy’s bday <3

♡ masterlist | requests

it was hard for you to sleep.

harder, when shoto wasn’t around.

sometimes it was your thoughts that kept you up; late at night— dark thoughts that swirled around in your head and slowly poisoned your brain with heavy black venom. it was hard to sleep when your mind was heavy with fear, but ever since dating shoto todoroki; those nights became easier and sleep wasn’t so hard to come by.

you weren’t so sure what it was about your boyfriend that made it easier for you to get some shut eye; it’s not like he really knew either. todoroki just didn’t like seeing you in pain, the way your face twisted with discomfort or the way sleepy tears would wet your cheeks under the moonlight— but you had somewhat of an idea, that his fresh peppermint smell and warm arms are what often helped you.

shoto would so lovingly sneak into your room, no matter the time, dusk or dawn— he would hold you tight under the sheets until you drifted off to dream land. even if it meant being teased by the others for stumbling out of your room in the morning, his pretty hair a wild mess creating the image that’d you’d both been up to no good, he’d face it all for you, over and over again.

but tonight, your loving, caring and doting boyfriend was nowhere to be seen— everyone’s second internships had begun and todoroki had chosen to work with his father along with izuku and katsuki, so it was no doubt that they wouldn’t be home until late. what with endeavour being the number one and all.

your friends knew about your struggles to sleep, of course, todoroki bluntly mentioning how you ‘like to sleep together’ to soothe your nightmares ( iida had lectured you about it after, saying it was inappropriate while deku and ochako turned as red as your boyfriend’s hair ) so offered to stay up with you— but you needed rest, today’s training sessions  having taken a toll on your body, and wave them off with a smile laced with tiredness.

you could call him, he wouldn’t mind and you know it— but he’s with his father and that takes enough out of him as it is.

you decide, instead, to trudge to the dual quirked boy’s bedroom, instantly calmed by his sweet peppermint scent embedded into every inch of his dorm. you swipe one of his clean sweaters straight from the closet before hitting the lights and snuggling into his bed.

tonight would be fine, todoroki would come home, wrap you in his arms and with the aid of his scent surrounding you— you would sleep safe and soundly.

is what you hoped as you drifted off to the land of dreams.

when you were younger, you watched your older brother, haru, get hit by a car.

the scene haunts you to this very day, crawling up on you while you rest at night— choking you out in your dreams. you see it now, feet glued to the ground as you’re forced to watch the younger version of you, mess with your older brother using your new found quirk. your parents had called it scenery, back then your powerful quirk had been their pride and joy, giving you the ability to create a mirage in a certain targets mind— make them see things that weren’t really there.

back then it was fun to play tricks on your sibling— you made haru see all of his worst nightmares, everything but the road.

everything but the oncoming car.

everything but his untimely death.

you want to scream at little you— tell her to stop and that it’s not funny anymore as she forces your brother back into the road— he’s giggling, he doesn’t know it yet and neither do you. but the words you want to say die down deep in your throat, suffocating you from the inside although they burn at your lungs to burst through.

why cant you speak? why cant you stop her?

adrenaline trickles into your blood stream as you will yourself to run out into the street and protect haru from the oncoming traffic just as he slips off of the sidewalk. your senses are blown out of the water, static noise filling your ears and intertwining with childish screams and the sound of a not so distant honking horn.

you claw harshly at your throat. speak. save him. for god’s sake; do something.

“you’ll kill him! stop! you’re going to kill him!”

the flickering of artificial, yellow light behind your closed eyes has you jolting awake, sweat forming at your brow and hands clenched tightly around your boyfriend’s plain bedsheets. your gaze darts across the room while your heart thumps loudly in your ribcage from the fear that struck you in your dream and finally, your stare settles on a shirtless, bewildered shoto todoroki. his face is a little scratched up no doubt from being on his father’s patrol and he looks exhausted but that doesn’t stop the concern he has for you taking over his expression. “yn—?”

“s-sho,” you hate how your voice caves so easily, the single syllable of your nickname for him falling wetly from chapped lips. todoroki is by your side in an instant, not caring that he’s only half dressed and half awake. he’ll deal with that later.

with tender hands shoto cups the back of your head, letting you sink into the warmth of his flesh. you reach out for your boyfriend and he’s there, taking your free hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze to help ground you. “love, what happened? why didn’t you call? you know i don’t mind—” his timbre voice fills your ears like warm honey, calming your rapid breathing but all you can do is shake your head.

“nightmare ‘n you were working,” you pant, cutting him off while the death grip on your lover’s hand begins increasing. you feel so far from the ground, the scene of haru’s death dancing across your mind. “i killed him, again—“

shoto watches your body twitch with fear and your usually glimmering eyes gloss over in away that makes him feel sick. you’re not here with him yet, still tangled up in the black string of your bad dreams. the world around the dual eyed boy begins to change and it seems you’ve activated your quirk by accident— showing him scenes of the day your brother died.

you screw your eyes shut as flashes of his body tangle with reality to the point where you don’t know what’s real and what’s not. you’re losing control of yourself so easily, fresh sets of tears stinging their way down your streaked cheeks. trapped. you feel trapped like a bird in a cage even while you’re awake and the sounds of cars and screaming burn at your ears once more.

make it stop, please.

“yn... come back to me love, i’m right here,” todoroki’s calm voice cuts through the suffocating song of death, dragging you back to reality while the effects of your quirk drift away. his fingers, although contrasting temperatures, now cup your cheeks to tilt your face towards him so that your eyes lock with his under the crescent moon. “you didn’t kill him. that wasn’t you. it wasn’t your fault.”

you blink away more tears like a helpless child, chest heaving but todoroki doesn’t give up. “but—“

“no.” your boyfriend says softly, yet sternly, leaning down to place an eskimo kiss to your nose. your eyes flutter shut at his simple gesture, although it raises saftey and warmth across your body— black radiates behind your closed eyelids, no longer plagued broken bones and blood. it’s easy to keep breathing from there, focusing on that as todoroki pulls you into his lap and the sheets fall away from your body.

“no,” you repeat back to him while shoto’s arms settle on your waist and his familiar scent of fresh peppermint fills your senses. “not my fault.”

it wasn’t your fault, that day the car had come speeding down a usually safe road in a residential area. the accident was a hit and run, but being a child made you feel every ounce of the blame. shaking the thought away you curl into your lover’s chest, listening for sounds of his heartbeat while he toys with a lose string on his sweater— the one you wear.

“that’s right, good girl...not your fault, here with me yet, love?”

when you glance up, todoroki is looking right back down at you— brows creased with worry but there’s love in his stare, overwhelming amounts that make you hum into his bare chest, grounded by the feeling of his skin against yours. “present and accounted for,” his chest rumbles with relieved laughter, soothing you even more. “thank you, sho. i’m sorry for making you do this so late at night.”

this time, shoto shakes his head— sending locks of red and white flying. “don’t thank me and don’t apologise,” his words are feather light in the dark while he manoeuvres you both onto his back to settle into bed. you’re about to mention that he’s still half in his suit, but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care, already closing his eyes. “i’m yours, your boyfriend and i’m going to support you no matter what. i’ve got you, okay? you’re always here for me so i’ll do my best to do the same for you. what kind of man would i be if i wasn’t?”

“a very unmanly man,” you tease with a kitten like yawn, already feeling the confines of a more comfortable sleep, taking over.

todoroki rolls his eyes but pulls you closer to him anyways. “you’ve been spending too much time with kirishima.”

“at least i don’t spend everyday working with bakugou, now that’s true nightmare.” you counter, narrowly missing a pinch to the side from your boyfriend.

the pair of you sleep soundly that night, wrapped in each other’s arms. you feel safe, knowing that nothing could ever harm you, as long as you were with him. shoto todoroki would give anything for to you to have a goodnight’s rest. no matter what. even if it meant staying awake with you and being late to patrol with endeavour the next day.

not like he cared, he hated his dad anyway.

[dreamerstreamer]

Lucky Catch

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: Being lucky has never been your forte, but a chance encounter with a stranger starts making you think otherwise.

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: mentions of being followed/creep behaviour (stay safe!)

A/N: inspired by a scary incident i had a while back (but i’m a-okay) that i thought i could spin into something happier!! i hope you guys like this little tid-bit :)

I must be the unluckiest person in the world, you thought to yourself as you turned another corner on the block.

Above you, the sky had only just begun to turn a pale shade of pretty pink, lavender seeping into the shadows of the clouds. The sun was slowly dipping closer and closer toward the horizon, and with each passing second, the footsteps following you grew a fraction louder—drew a fraction closer. Your heart tightened uncomfortably in your chest, your blood rushing through your ears.

Of all the people who could have been followed by some inevitable creep, you just had to be one of them.

The city was still as loud as ever around you, the streets full of bustling cars driven by tired people making their way home after rush hour just like you. At first, you didn’t believe someone was following you—after all, it wasn’t like you were the only person walking down the street. But the farther you walked, the closer the steps drew, and each time you snuck a glance over your shoulder, you caught the same face peeking back at you through the crowd.

You felt sick.

Your head spun with a million hazy thoughts, your brain just barely managing to piece together a plan with your pounding chest. Should I run home? You chewed on your lip. No, I don’t want them finding out where I live. What would my roommate do? I have my keys on me, but I don’t know if I could throw someone off me. I can try to disappear into the crowd.

You could feel a bead of sweat form on the back of your neck as you picked up the pace, the footsteps behind you following suit. Anxiety lapped at the pit of your stomach, fear crawling up the hollow of your throat and squeezing like a vice.

What do I do?

Up ahead of you, you could see the people filling the sidewalk start to die down a little, and your heart sank. Well, there went that plan.

But just then, a tall figure stepped out into the path a few feet ahead of you, and you felt a pair of eyes lock onto yours. Emerald green bore straight into you, and you blinked.

The man standing in front of you was tall, almost overwhelmingly so, his dirty blond hair gently tousled by the warm, summer breeze. Donning a simple lime hoodie, you watched with rapt attention as his gaze darted behind you, his eyes flashing before meeting yours once more. Although he didn’t utter a single word, it almost felt like he read your mind.

Do you need help?

Swallowing thickly, you nodded your head as subtly as you could, praying that the desperation was clear enough on your face for him to read.

Please.

In an instant, his pursed lips melted into an easygoing smile, and he opened his arms up in front of you. Recognition clicked in your head, and you suddenly began sprinting towards him. Sucking in a deep breath, you felt your heart do a nervous flip as you leapt toward him, your arms outstretched.

In one fell swoop, his arms were wrapped around your torso, catching you in a swift hold before pressing you close to his chest. You sank into his warmth, letting your shoulders go slack. The soft smell of pine filled your senses as you felt him spin your around once, a chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“Hey, there,” he said, and you were shocked by just how kind his voice sounded, “did you miss me?”

Leaning back, you gazed up at him with a look of wonder. God, he really was pretty up close, and you did your best to plaster a smile to your face and nod. “Did I keep you waiting for long?” you managed to warble, playing along the best you could.

The stranger shook his head at you, ducking down to press his lips to your forehead. Heat flooded your chest at the feeling, and your heart swelled.

“Not at all,” he murmured against your skin.

When he pulled back, you watched as his eyes flickered over your shoulder, his fingers still protectively curled around your waist. A moment passed with his hands still pressed against you, and then he let out a breath, his grip loosening.

“They’re gone,” he said simply, and you let yourself practically crumple with relief.

“Oh, thank god,” you breathed, stepping back with a grateful grin. You already felt the weight lifted off your shoulders, but an apologetic smile danced on your lips. “I am so sorry about this. I don’t know when they started following me, and I just didn’t know what to do—“

He sent you a crooked grin, and you felt your stomach churn with butterflies. “Don’t worry about it, really.” His eyes narrowed almost dangerously. “I saw them trailing after you, and I couldn’t just let them follow you home like that.”

Your entire front felt like it was on fire. Even though you were just a stranger to him, he was so kind, and the very thought made your gut erupt with butterflies.

“Thank you so much. You really saved me there…”

You trailed off when you realized you didn’t even know his name. How could it feel so natural to be in the arms of someone whose name you didn’t even know?

“Clay,” he suddenly said, his eyes snapping back to yours. Your soul burned with want. “The name’s Clay.”

You nodded your head, half-feeling like a broken bobblehead. “Thank you, Clay.” You reached your hand out toward him with a lopsided smile. “I definitely did this in the wrong order, but I’m [Y/N].”

The laugh that tumbled from Clay’s lips sounded like straight music to your ears. I could listen to him laugh forever, you thought distantly. Reaching over, he gripped your hand in his, shaking it warmly with a smile. Your fingers wanted to stay wrapped around his forever.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N], and I’m glad I was able to help you out.” His eyes darted down to the watch on his wrist, and he raised a brow at you. “Did you possibly have somewhere you needed to be, by the way? I’d hate to keep you here.”

Your eyes shot wide open. “Oh gosh, my roommate is probably worried sick about me. I promised them I’d be back by now.”

His fingers twitched around yours for a moment, almost like he didn’t want to let go. But then, his hand was dropping away from yours as he sent you a fond, melancholic look. “Try to stay safe on your way back, yeah?”

You nodded, giving him another appreciative look. “I’ll do my best.” Rushing ahead of him, you waved over your shoulder. “Thanks so much, again!”

Clay waved back at you as you darted down the street toward your apartment, but as you tore you eyes away from him, you couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. You had only just opened the front door to your apartment when another realization struck you.

Crap—I should have asked for his number.

Even as your roommate shook you by the shoulders back and forth, concern etched onto her features as she began to interrogate you, all you could think about was the warmth of Clay’s arms circled around you and the tinkling sound of his laughter.

You really were the unluckiest person in the world.

“[Y/N], don’t lose me!”

You can only barely make out the sound of your roommate’s voice as you squeeze your way through the crowd. Why you agreed to come with her to such a busy event, you still don’t know. You hardly even knew what it was the event was about. Something about meeting a popular YouTuber? You could hardly remember, now.

“This is, like, the biggest event in the history of YouTube, ever!” she had yelled at you. “You have to come with me.”

And like the good roommate you were, you had agreed, but mostly just because she told you that there would be free food.

But now, a day and a half later, and there was no food to be seen—especially not the free kind. Instead, all you could see was an ocean of people, and you were absolutely positive you were drowning in them.

I’m hungry, you internally whined. Your stomach growled, and you rubbed your hand over your frontside with a muffled moan. This was a mistake.

Even as your stomach growled, you tried to focus your attention on the situation at hand. Biting back a groan, your fingers squeezed at your stomach—being hungry wasn’t the important part, now. What was important was that you had somehow managed to get pushed ahead of your roommate from within the throng of people packed into the massive atrium.

“At least try to stay with me, will you?” you grunted over the horde of people around you. You narrowly dodged an elbow being pressed into your face, blindly reaching your hand behind you toward where your roommate had been just a moment prior. “I don’t want to have to go looking for you later.”

As soon as your fingertips brushed against warm skin, you quickly latched your hand into the one you had just brushed up against, holding on as tightly as you could manage before tugging. “Follow me—I’m getting us out of here.”

There was no resistance behind you as you began walking forward, pushing your way through the crowd toward what you could only hope was the edge of the room. Why was everybody pushing towards the stage, anyways? Was there supposed to be someone important up there?

With a few more tugs forward and the occasional apology spilling from your lips, you found yourself bursting out from the crowd and into an open space, your shoulders sinking with relief at the lack of people pressing in against you. You grinned as you straightened, squeezing your roommate’s hand in yours. Was her hand always this big and warm?

“We made it,” you breathed, turning. “Can we get something to eat, no—”

The words died in your mouth as you looked up into the emerald green eyes gazing back at you.

Oh no. This wasn’t your roommate.

“Um, hi,” he said, offering you a lopsided smile. “Fancy meeting you here, [Y/N].”

Your eyes felt like they were about to bulge out of your head.

“Clay?” you blurted.

His grin only grew wider. “That’s me.”

Your gaze darted down to your connected hands, his fingers wrapped around yours warmly. Immediately, you stumbled back, looking and feeling like an absolute blubbering mess.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I was here with my roommate, and I thought you were her.” You sheepishly peeled your eyes away from him, your face growing hot with embarrassment. “I swear I don’t do this kind of thing on the regular.”

He barked out a laugh, and your insides felt fuzzy. You didn’t want to admit how much you missed hearing that laugh.

“I was gonna say,” he said, cocking a teasing brow at you, “both of our meetings have been pretty forward of you.”

You buried your face in your hands, letting out an embarrassed whine. “Do not remind me. I can’t believe I got you roped into my shenanigans, again.”

You felt a hand gently pat your shoulder, and you peeked out from between your fingers to see him smiling kindly at you. “It’s no biggie, really. I wouldn’t mind meeting you like this more often, or just in general.”

Your jaw dropped. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.” Slipping his hand into his pocket, you watched in awe as he fished out his phone and held it out to you. “Here, give me your number. I’d love to take you out sometime.” He glanced up at you, looking almost shy. “Maybe we can even grab a bite to eat after this?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was he for real? Was someone this handsome and this sweet really asking you out?

It looked like your luck had turned around, for once.

Gingerly taking his phone from his hands, you nodded. “That sounds nice.”

As you began entering your contact information, you felt Clay fidget next to you. “You said you came here with your roommate?” he prompted after a moment.

Your lips quirked. “Yeah—she begged me to come with her today. I kind of forgot who she wanted to see, though.” Your brows knitted together. “I think she said something about a face reveal?”

Next to you, Clay had gone oddly still for a moment, but as soon as you were handing his phone back to him, he brightened, a smile tugging on his lips. “Ah, so she’s a fan and you’re here to accompany her?”

You nodded. “Yep! But I don’t regret coming, since I…” You gulped, your face growing warm once more. “Since I got to see you.”

You could have sworn you caught a dust of pink colouring Clay’s cheeks when all of a sudden, a familiar face popped out from the crowd.

“[Y/N]! There you are!”

Before you could even blink, your roommate was barrelling into your side, her arms clutching tightly onto you. “Where did you go?” she whined into your hair. “I thought I had lost you.”

In front of you, you watched as Clay tried to stifle a laugh, and you gently pried her off your arm as you let out an awkward laugh. “This is what you get for bringing me to such a busy place and not even trying to stick with me.”

She sent you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I just got so caught up in the rush.” Glancing over to her side, she blinked in surprise. “Oh, was I interrupting something?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Clay spoke first. “Ah, no. I actually have to get going in a second.”

Your face wilted. He had to go?

His eyes met yours once more, and he must have sensed your sadness, because not even a second later, he was gently smiling at you.

“But I promise I’ll text you right after.”

Just like that, and you had brightened again. Waving at you, he slipped toward the side of the stage, opening a door that presumably led somewhere backstage. Oh, you thought, maybe he’s working here for the event.

You were pulled away from your staring by your roommate’s tugging at your arm. “[Y/N], who was that? He‘s cute.”

You felt your stomach twist again, but this time, not out of hunger. “You remember the guy I told you saved me from that creep?”

Her eyes widened. “That was him? You didn’t tell me he was so good-looking!” You laughed at the way her grip on your arm tightened. “Did you give him your number? What’s his name?”

“Yes, actually,” you hummed, puffing your chest up in pride, “and his name’s Clay.” Your head spun with dizzy, pink affection. “He’s really sweet.”

Your roommate fell quiet beside you, her fingers suddenly going slack against you. At her silence, you turned to shoot her a confused look. “Did I say something wrong?”

Her face was pale, her eyes as wide as saucers as she blinked blankly. “Y-You said his name was Clay?” she croaked, sounding like she was forcing the words out.

You raised a brow at her. “Uh, yes? Are you oka—”

You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence when the lights in the atrium suddenly grew dim and the room erupted into screams. A single spotlight shone on the front stage, and you watched a brunet man stepped out from behind the crimson red curtains.

“Thank you for your patience, everyone!” he called into his mic, his British accent echoing loudly through the speakers scattered across the room. “It’s been years in the making, but are you all finally ready to meet the world’s most popular Minecraft content creator face-to-face—to finally see the one and only Dream in the flesh?”

The crowd’s screams grew even louder, and you furrowed your brows. Dream? You felt like you recognized that name, but from where, you didn’t have a clue.

You peeked over at your roommate, who was still as pale as a sheet. You were surprised that she wasn’t screaming her own head off. “Aren’t you excited?” you whispered. “Isn’t this the guy you wanted to see?”

She stood stock still, her eyes still trained on the stage with frozen, unwavering attention.

“I already have,” she whispered, sounding absolutely star-struck.

What?

The man on stage smiled at just how loud the audience had grown, and he stepped to the side. “You all certainly sound excited.” Gesturing to the curtains, he dipped into a dramatic bow. “Then, without further ado, here he is!”

In a flash, the spotlight almost seemed to glow even brighter, and the curtains flew to the side. Out stepped a tall, blond man with the most dazzling grin you’d ever seen.

A grin you’d seen twice, now.

All of a sudden, all the pieces suddenly fell into place as Clay took a step forward, waving at the masses. The screams of the crowd had grown to become absolutely deafening, and despite their overwhelming volume, it felt almost like you could hardly hear them at all.

Oh, you thought, the realization sinking deep into your bones. Oh.

So that was why your roommate was absolutely losing her mind, gaping at the stage with nothing short of pure amazement. That was why Clay had seemed so surprised when you told him you didn’t know who this event was even about.

On the stage, Clay’s emerald eyes swept across the audience before landing on you. He must have caught the surprised look on your face, because a split second later, he was sending you a knowing wink from across the room. Someone in the audience screamed at the sight, and you couldn’t stop yourself from winking back, your heart doing a somersault between your lungs.

Maybe you really were luckier than you thought.

[missblissy]

Hi!! I want some pain so the Hurt/comfort post, about Alastor x reader with 1, 2, 4, 12??

((Of course Nonny!! Sorry for such a wait!! I've got a lot of these to work on lol. REMEMBER!! REQUEST ARE CLOSED RIGHT NOW, EVERYONE!! IF YOU SEND ONE IN I WILL NOT DO IT! I've had a few other people send some in and I'm sorry to say I have to delete them. I do not have any more room to take any more prompt requests. Thank you everyone for understanding! NOW.... Enjoy the Modern!AU Angst >:D))

1: “We need to stop the bleeding – now!” 2: “I hate to see you hurt like this.” 4: “I want to help you, so please let me.” 12: “You’re normally the tough guy. Today, let me be tough for the both of us.”

Something about today had felt off. Ever since you woke up, it just felt... not right. As if your mind already knew what was going to happen before it actually did. But no one can really know that for sure. That's why it's called a gut feeling. And that feeling told you that today... You might just die.

You've tasted blood before. But for some reason this time it tasted sweet, rather than bitter, and full of iron. There wasn't much for you to focus on other than the lights from the ceiling flickering over your head. You faintly heard a doctor screaming, "We need to stop the bleeding! BP is dropping- Let's go! Now!"

How did you end up here again, violently broken and bleeding out? Oh, that's right... You were driving home after work. It was another late shift during the dead hours of the night. Drunk drivers were often out during these hours of the night. One just so happened to hit you, and now you're here in a hospital.

You just wanted to go home and sleep. You wanted to lay beside your husband and not have to worry about anything. That was not your case, however. And instead, you tried your best to speak. A nurse who was pushing you along the gurney said, "It's alright, we'll help you, you're safe now." But all you wanted to do was ask about your husband. For someone to tell him what was going on. You were sure he was at home, sleeping soundly and without a clue what had happened.

And Alastor wouldn't find out until the next morning. He'd wake up to several missed calls from dozens of people and some he didn't even know. This man didn't even get dressed. He ran out of the house still in his pajamas and floored it to the hospital. Along the way there, Alastor would throw a massive fit. He'd smash his hands on the steering wheel, beating himself up over not getting there sooner.

He'd curse and swear and honestly drive like a maniac. Every red light he got caught at only made him angrier with the world. His tires would spin and shoot smoke the second the light flickered green and off he rushed again.

Luckily, you were out of surgery long before Alastor got to the hospital. A nurse walked him to your room, and he found himself staring at a sight he'd never imagine. You were broken beyond belief. The nurse gave Alastor a sorry look, "Everything's stable, for now," The nurse said, "But...." She shook her head, "It was one of the worse car accidents we've ever seen. We did everything we could-"

"Coma..." Alastor said the single word, "Induced or?" The nurse shook her head.

"Brain damage, though there is still plenty of brain activity," That was good to hear. It meant you weren't brain dead... yet. The nurse gave him a sorry look, then with a nod of her head, she left him there. Alastor slowly walked into your room and closed the door behind him. He even turned all the blinds so no one could see in the little windows from the hallways. Everything felt wrong.

He stood at your bedside. Taking in everything. The tubes, the machines, the wires. Almost immediately he felt his eyes burn with the threat of tears. And when he placed a hand on your cheek he couldn't stop the waves of them rushing down his face.

The sheer pain of the situation made Alastor sob like a child for the first time in his adult life. He sat down beside you and grabbed your hand, "Dammit..." He squeezed tightly, "Dammit!" He let out a little shout and brought your hand to his cheek, "I hate this-" He let out a small cry, "I hate to see you like this, my poor dear-"

He couldn't stop the waves of tears sobbing from his eyes. He'd never let himself cry like this before, but he felt like if he didn't cry, he wouldn't have the chance to later. With anger, he ran a hand over his face, aggressively wiping his tears. He threw his glasses off his face and they clinked to the floor. Alastor's fingers ringed into his hair as he let out another sob and pushed his bangs out of his face. He had completely lost all of his composure. Every part of him was breaking down.

Alastor sat down in the chair by your bedside and buried his head in one of his hands. With his other hand, he still held firm to yours. His fingers dug into your skin as let out another sob, "Please-" He hiccuped, "Please...!" He looked up at your unconscious face with watery dark eyes, "Please be okay," He whispered the words out quickly as he brought your hand to his lips, "Please let me help you-" He spoke the words against your skin, "I want to help you- Please let me... Just!" He paused for another quick sob, "Please just give me a sign your still in there..."

He was never a man to pray to any kind of god. He didn't believe there was one, to begin with. But Alastor found himself praying, hoping that anything would happen. He couldn't lose you, and certainly not like this. You never sign any DNR papers or made it clear to your doctors that you didn't want to be resuscitated. But you did tell Alastor if there ever came a day that you needed machines to keep you alive, you had asked him to pull the plug.

With the weight of what was once just a silly conversation that had now come true, Alastor found himself drowning in misery. He rested his head on the back of your hand as sat in his chair. He looked at his glasses on the ground as tears splattered around them, "I don't want to kill you," He whispered with a cry, "I don't want to unplug you if there is a chance you'll come out of this."

The stone-cold silence lasted only a second between the beats of your heart monitor. A beep, then silence. Another beep, then silence again. Alastor found himself swelling with rage and anger, but mostly sadness. He shook his head slowly as he stared at the ground. This can't be happening... He thought This has to be a dream... This-

Something sounded off. The beeps were getting... faster? Alastor looked up and stared at the monitors. He didn't understand any of them, there were so many, but something was happening. He watched numbers flicker and change when suddenly he felt a tug at his hand.

You didn't make a sound or hardly move but you're squeezed his hand. Alastor had never been so hopeful for something so small. He shot out of his chair with enough force to tip it over behind him.

"Darling!?" Alastor firmly gripped your hand and leaned over you. He let his free hand brush your hair out of your face as he asked, "Darling, please, for the love of god- Can you hear me?"

He waited, and waited some more. Suddenly her felt your hand squeeze him again while he searched your face for any signs, "oh my god-" He whispered to himself as he watched your face twitch with pain before your eyes flickered open. With lightning speed Alastor ran to the door of your room and swung it open, "Someone get a nurse!" He shouted into the hallway, "Please!" He ignored most of the odd stares he was getting.

It wasn't a second later that a small team of nurses rushed in to check on you. You had certainly woken up and the tubes down your throat were not comfortable at all. The intubation tubes were removed, along with the feeding tubes, while others updated your stats. Alastor waited nervously in the corner of the room as he watched a team of people work over you. He felt so helpless that he couldn't watch for long. He'd leave the room and wait in the hallway, trying his best to ignore the painful coughs and groans as tubes were pulled out of your throat.

When the nurses left, Alastor quickly went back into the room and to your side. You had only just started breathing on your own again. It was much harder to breathe than ever before, but you still managed. You were still groggy, swore, and very much in pain. Despite this, you still let the smallest and weakest smile crawl along your lips, "Hey..." Was the first thing you said to your husband.

You watched as Alastor's eyes flickered all over your form. From the casts, the pins, the cuts, and bruises. He searched your face for serval minutes than began a weak laugh that sounded similar to a cry, "H-hey..." He said with a long sigh, he even tried to wear a smile that just didn't sit right on his face.

"Al..." You raised a weak and tired hand to his face. He immediately pressed his cheek into the palm of your hand and shook his head, "I'm sorry," You said. But you had nothing to be sorry for, you didn't cause this or intend for it to happen.

He couldn't say anything, Alastor was too caught up with his feelings. You watched him break down all over again as if he was still living with the fear that you might die, "Hey- hey," You raised your hand slightly and made him look at you, "I'm alright," It was hard to see him so broken down like this, "I'm okay, I'm here." You reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere."

Alastor shook his head quickly as if he didn't want to bother you with his feelings. He sucked in a quick gasp for air then sobbed out, "I'm not strong enough to deal with something like this- Ever-.... I can't lose you." He said quickly.

You couldn't really scoot over but thankfully the bed was rather large. You gave Alastor's arm a tug and he quickly climb in and curled up beside you. He was careful to stay clear of any broken bones as he made himself comfortable.

You stared at the ceiling while Alastor shut his eyes and buried himself into the crook of your neck, you used your free hand to comb his hair despite the pain it caused you to move, "That's alright," You finally told him, "No one is strong enough to deal with something like this. You're normally so tough and good at hiding your emotions. But you don't have to do that. I'm alive, I lived, I can be tough enough for the both of us, even if it's just for today."

Alastor curled himself as close as he could beside you. He wanted nothing more than to hide and forget about this day, he knew how impossible that was but he still wanted it. You could feel his tears running from his face and onto your skin. He couldn't stop crying when normally he never cried. He didn't even cry at his mother's funeral. Even though you were the one in the car accident, somehow you felt that Alastor was in the most pain.

"Please don't ever leave me," His voice was raspy and broken as he spoke against the skin of your neck.

With a sad and sorry look on your face, you did your best to pull him closer and wrap your arm around him. You pressed your forehead against his and you felt a set of tears drop from your eyes. You did your best to smile as you spoke, "I won't," You promised, "I'll never leave you, I'll always be here."

[fruitcoops]

I absolutely love your fics!!! Thank you for sharing your talent with the world. If you're interested, do you think you could write a fic where Finn gets injured in a game against Tampa? O'Hara brothers ftw ♥️♥️♥️

Ohohohoho yes. It's 'missing your big brother so you write siblings' hours, and all of you are trapped in here with me. Combined with prompts for cubs hurt comfort/ poly love (@hi-im-phoenix) and distraction hurt/ comfort for AJ. Sorry about your manager <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for bone inJuries

The crowd was roaring. Finn couldn’t catch his breath. His arm was on fire.

Something like a sob broke free in his chest, but he could do little more than hiccup in pain and fear from his place laying flat on his back atop the unforgiving ice. He couldn’t move his fingers. His elbow throbbed. Everything in between just hurt.

“—fuck is wrong with you?” an angry voice shouted, followed by a flash of blue and white shoving at the man whose late hit had left him suspended in shock. Finn didn’t know if it had been on purpose, but he didn’t really care anymore as a tear tracked down to his ear. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the bright lights overhead.

A hand cradled one side of his jaw, warm and clammy on his cold skin. “Talk to me, mon amour, what’s wrong?”

“Lo,” he croaked, swallowing hard. “I’m okay. ‘m okay, promise. I’m okay.”

“Out of my way!” The blue and white blob pushed closer before kneeling next to him. A helmet hit the ice, followed by a glove; heavy hands settled on his shoulders, and the one on his face disappeared. “Finn? Finn, look at me.”

Finn’s chest hitched once, twice, hard. His head was pounding, and everything hurt. He may have been able to reassure Logan, but he had never been able to hide from his brother. “Alex.”

“Hey, buddy,” he soothed as Finn finally regained enough breath to gasp around his tears. “No, no, shhh. You’re gonna be just fine, yeah? Can you tell me what happened?”

“Hurts,” he choked out, squeezing his eyes shut. The pain had reached his shoulder and every movement was agony. “It hurts, it hurts—Alex, it hurts.”

“What hurts?”

He could hear people calling for medics. His friends, his family. But Alex stayed right there next to him, holding his good hand and brushing his tears away. “My arm,” Finn said, feeling as pathetic as he ever had. “Alex, it hurts so bad.”

“Can you wiggle your fingers for me?” Finn sobbed again as he shook his head and saw the encouraging smile slide of Alex’s face. “That’s alright, buddy, just take some deep breaths.”

“I don’t wanna be out,” Finn blubbered. “I gotta play.”

Alex gave his hand a light squeeze. “It’s not that bad, Fish. Deep breaths.”

He managed a handful—and admittedly felt a little better—but the alarms in his head were still blaring when Remus arrived with the medic, all but carrying him across the ice to get to Finn. He had a smudge of a bruise beneath his eye, but the worry creasing his brow overtook anything else. “I’m good, Loops,” Finn panted as the medic sat next to him. “Totally cool.”

“28, I’m going to need you to make some room,” the medic ordered. Fear spiked in Finn’s heart when he met Alex’s gaze, but he found only determination looking back.

“I’m not leaving,” Alex said simply.

The medic glanced down. “Can you stand?”

“I think so?” Finn said hesitantly, trying to get cool air back into his lungs. “It’s—I think I broke my arm. Everything else is okay.”

“What’s your pain level?”

“Eight. And a half,” he added. Alex frowned.

“Let’s get you off this ice, yeah?” The medic patted him gently on the shoulder. “O’Hara, can you get him up?”

“Keep that one close,” Alex murmured, sliding his arm under Finn’s shoulders. He clenched his teeth around a cry of pain as his bad arm was jostled, but Alex was strong and steady, and within a few seconds he was on his feet. “Easy does it, bud. I’ve got you.”

“Fucking shit,” Finn wheezed as he tried to close his hand. The fear and adrenaline had faded, but involuntary tears sprang to his eyes anyway. Alex held him upright without faltering despite his wobbly legs; they made it to the bench in a blur of movement that made Finn dizzy.

“We can take him from here,” the medic said to Alex.

“I’ll be fine,” Finn said, cutting him off just as he opened his mouth. “Go play. Your boys need you.”

Alex pressed his lips together in obvious frustration, but tapped their helmets together and skated back to his own bench. Finn let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “O’Hara?”

“I’m good,” he assured the medic.

“If you feel like you need to throw up, let me know.”

“No. No, I’m good. Just hurts.”

He caught a glimpse of the clock as they headed down the tunnel—ten minutes left in the period. Finn steeled himself for a long stretch of being alone in a medical room and tried to focus on something over than the unbearable heat and throbbing in his arm.

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

Leo traced the edge of the splint with a deep-set frown, but said nothing. His other thumb ran in gentle lines up and down Finn’s waist, kept there by Logan’s side pressing close. “You’re sure you’re alright?” Logan asked softly as he placed a kiss on the corner of Finn’s mouth.

“I promise.” They had barely traded ten words—both had shown up the second the game ended, stripping off their pads and skates in the entrance to the medical room before sandwiching Finn between them. Leo had been unusually quiet. They had won the game; from what Finn saw on the television in the corner of the room, Alex had reamed out the guy that hit Finn with a vengeance. Tampa had been disjointed, and the Lions swept in as a cohesive pack, out for blood.

“I was worried about you,” Leo said at last, resting his temple on Finn’s shoulder. He sighed, then shifted impossibly closer. “Couldn’t get through the crowd.”

“I thought Talker and Loops were gonna kill that guy after he hit you,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “Looks like Alex did it for him.”

“What, you didn’t get into your shining armor for me?” Finn teased, nuzzling his nose against Logan’s cheek to draw even a slight smile from him.

“Maybe next time.”

“No,” Leo mumbled, linking his fingers with Finn’s purple ones and lifting them to his lips for a brief kiss. It was a clean break, but would still take weeks to heal. Big blue eyes landed on him, melting his heart like they always did. “No ‘next times’, okay?”

“Aw, Knutty,” Finn said, barely above a whisper. He wrapped one arm around each of them and held them tight, soaking in the feeling of having both crushed against him. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

Logan tucked his face into Finn’s neck. “Nothing to be sorry for, mon rouge. We’re just glad you’re alright.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice said from the door. Alex shifted his weight back and forth, twisting his baseball cap in his hands like he always did when he was nervous. Finn didn’t hesitate before extracting himself from the cuddle pile and crossing the room; Alex met him halfway and engulfed him in a hug. A shudder ran through him under Finn’s palms. “Jesus, Finn, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” Finn mumbled into his hoodie, letting himself be cocooned by distilled safety. Even out of his skates, Alex had a good two inches on him, and he had always been the broader of the two—Finn suddenly felt about six years old, as if he had just skinned his knee on the sidewalk.

“What’s the diagnosis?”

“Closed break, clean fracture. I’ll be out for a month or two.” He stepped back and swiped a hand under his nose, then tilted his head toward Leo and Logan with a wry smile. “But I’ve got these two to look after me.”

Alex scanned his face for a moment; his mouth dipped on one side. “I called mom and dad, told ‘em you’re okay. You should tell them yourself, though. They were freaking out.”

“I will,” Finn promised.

The worry creasing his brow didn’t diminish as he wrapped Finn in his arms again, holding him tight. “Keep me updated, yeah? If I don’t hear from you, I’ll get the captain on your ass, and he won’t be as nice about it as I will.”

“Deal.”

“Knutty, Lo, drive safe. If he tries to pull some stupid shit, I’m counting on your survival skills to stop it.”

“Survival skills?” Leo half-laughed.

Alex pulled away and raised his eyebrows. “They don’t call me Hurricane O’Hara for nothing.”

His eyes flickered back to Finn, who was horrified to see slight redness around the rims despite the teasing in his voice. “Alex,” he said softly. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“I know.” His voice was gruff, but it poorly hid a sniffle as he bumped their foreheads together. “But I’m your brother. It’s my job to worry about you. I hate that one of my guys was at fault here.”

Finn tried for a smile, socking him on the arm. “Six weeks, and I’ll be good as new.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” With a final survey of his face and a kiss to the top of his head, Alex headed back out into the hall with his shoulders up near his ears. Finn sighed; he hated it when Alex was upset, and even more when there was nothing he could do to fix it except wait. He didn’t know what he’d do if one of his teammates broke his brother.

“Fish?” Leo was smiling when he turned around. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What kind?”

“The kind where I pull out all the sob story pity points on Cap’s soft heart and get us babysitting privileges for his incredibly fluffy dog after three months of constant begging.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“Make sure you look extra sad when we leave,” Logan advised. “We can’t lose this opportunity because you were too perky about a broken arm.”

“Quick, someone make me cry.”

Leo’s grin turned to horror. “What?”

“No!” Logan said at the same time.

“You guys are killing me here,” Finn groaned. “Just, like, hit me in the arm or something.”

“No!” they shouted in unison.

“You said I need to look sad!”

“I meant pout and sigh!” Logan pulled him over by the hem of his shirt in clear distress. “You’ve already cried too much tonight. No more.”

“Alright,” Finn agreed, already wracking his brain for any smidgen of drama skills he might have acquired over the years. Younger siblings were always the best actors, of course—he had given some Oscar-worthy performances to his mom when Alex got on his nerves as a kid—but Sirius was tough to fool. Maybe if he stayed quiet and didn’t risk opening his mouth they would get away with it.

Leo let out a slow exhale against his chest and snuggled closer before standing. “Come on, darlin,” he said with a kiss to Finn’s forehead. “Let’s get you settled. We’ll take a shower, have some dinner, and then we can put a movie on.”

“Mighty Ducks?” Finn asked hopefully.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

[madamedevien]

Infernal Heat

Hey! It’s been a while - I really miss you guys.  Anyway, I know that a lot of you were keeping up to date with my Mammon x GN! Reader fic...while I’m updating it regularly on my AO3, I thought that I’d post the chapters that I’ve got here as well. I’m planning for it to be a 4 chapter fic, but let’s see how that goes! Warnings in tags (both here and AO3) - monster fucking comes into play much more come Chapter 3 and 4. The biggest thanks to @mawwart for their inspiration and @popcherrypop for reading over what I had all those months ago and actually helping me find direction. I’ve got a bigger/cheesier spiel on AO3, but anyway. Fingers crossed that the ‘Keep Reading’ line shows up here...

Chapter 1: Embers

The Great Mammon had woken up in a mood. He'd felt this creeping up for days now and he wished that it would just come and go already. It was hella distracting to have a constant tug of warmth and want in your gut, y'know? And it was annoying to feel the incessant need to primp and to add to the nest of pillows, blankets, sentimental and decorative items that now overtook most of his bed. But he was due a heat cycle. Annoyingly, he felt that it was probably going to settle in properly on that particular day and he'd been wrangled into going shopping by you. And for whatever reason he'd agreed. Not because he had a crush on you or anything. Damn, he couldn't even remember what you two were meant to be shopping for, that's how addled his mind was. Mammon really just wanted to stay put and perfect his nest. Maybe show it off to you. Although he wasn't sure if you'd appreciate the fact that he'd stolen a few items of yours while on laundry duty to tuck into said nest. Or that he wanted to maybe do something kind of nasty to a piece of your clothing. If not you. 

But would you want to? To see his nest? To lay in it, lay with him, to mate with him? He wanted you to. So very, very badly. He didn’t feel like he deserved you but, oh, to say that he wanted you was a vast understatement. Fuck. 

He groaned and threw one of his tanned arms over his eyes. The silveret realised that he was going to have to partially dislodge his beautiful nest to pull out Goldie (he couldn't go shopping without her - the very thought was offensive!) and that he was going to have to get rid of his raging boner before he faced you. 

So into a cold shower he trudged, loudly cursing the whole time.

---

Longest shopping trip in fucking history. 

It seemed like you were in need of freakin' everything imaginable. He wasn't to know that you were actually just taking your time because it'd been a while since the two of you had some time to yourselves. The demon had been acting strangely around you the past few days, although he was completely oblivious to just how weird it’d been for you.

And today, the Avatar of Greed just wasn't engaging. Questions went unanswered, as if he hadn't heard even when clearly looking at you, no boasting or sulking occurred, no bets or harebrained schemes hatched...he didn't even take you up on your offer of Hell Sauce Noodles! The demon was completely disinterested in all of this - the only thing he was interested in was you. He was also trying very very hard not to let his thoughts slip into anything inappropriate. Which was probably the single most difficult thing he’d had to do in all of his many years. Mammon wanted to take your hand and lace your fingers together; to shamelessly nuzzle your cheek in front of everyone on Silent Avenue. The thought made his heart swell. Better yet, if you were mated, he could kiss you in front of the whole crowd before publicly mounting you and-

Damn, it was hard to keep lewd thoughts at bay. He could feel his cheeks burning and looked away when your concerned expression turned to him. 

On the trek home (finally!), he fell into a lazy pace behind you and Mammon couldn’t help it as you walked together. His cerulean gaze raked over the beautiful curve in your neck - the space was perfect. In his mind, he could see how perfectly his head would fit and how the mark he could leave there would only accentuate the beauty of your skin. It’d be a gorgeous brand that would loudly proclaim to all, ‘I am mated to THE Great Mammon, the Avatar of Greed and Second of the Seven; don’t you dare even think to touch me’. The very notion only caused the flush of heat over his skin to worsen and his breath to hitch; he wanted to tear into his flesh to relieve himself of the insufferable and fiery itch.

The same thoughts washed over his brain again and again like some cruel tide, even once you'd passed through the doors of the House of Lamentation.

It took only a scant moment. He didn’t even think. The silver haired demon was aware that he was losing his mind due to his damned biology, but he didn’t realise that he was so far gone that he would do something so stupid. It was only your screech that alerted him to the fact that he had pulled you tight to his chest, that he was actually in the process of sinking sharp fangs into your supple skin. The sudden realisation made him tear off of you in surprise. 

Beel had been the first to burst through a doorway and into the corridor. The redhead stopped dead in his tracks and stared wide-eyed at the two of you; you with your hand clamped over the section of your neck that had been bitten, and Mammon an arm’s length away from with a look of abject horror painted over his handsome features. Stupid Mammon, indeed. The next to burst in was Lucifer, who looked ready for a proper melee. The sound that had come from you had genuinely startled the older brother, not that he’d admit that if asked. As his garnet gaze took in the scene before him, his mouth twisted unpleasantly. “Mammon…” Lucifer’s voice was dangerously low. Mammon shook his head urgently in response, “Nonono, Luci, it didn’t - I mean, yeah, it is what it looks like an’ I didn’t mean ta, but it...it’s not deep enough. Y’know?” The second brother sounded desperate. Mammon anxiously twisted his rings around his tanned fingers and had to fight back the tears that threatened the edges of his vision. He could have hurt you. “Oh, I think you’ll find that it’s more than deep enough.” Lucifer stalked toward you and put his hand on top of the one you were using to cover your wound. “Let me see how much damage the fool inflicted on you”. Mammon could see the frown that pulled at your mouth as you revealed the bite mark to his brother. No proper damage - the indents might linger, but no blood had been drawn; no skin had been broken. 

“It was more from the surprise than pain, Lucifer. I just wasn’t expecting someone to bite me, you know? That’s the kind of thing that I’d expect more from a very hungry Beel.” Your attempt to lighten the mood only made the Avatar of Pride’s expression sour further - but Beel muttered a small, “Fair”. Lucifer sounded positively glacial when he spoke again. “Beelzebub, please take our brother to his room." The Avatar of Gluttony nodded solemnly, gently taking the second eldest’s shoulder. Mammon stared miserably at the floor, guilt clearly written on his flushed face although he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn’t trust himself to. Not after such a stupid stunt. As the other two made their way up the stairs, Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. 

This wouldn’t be pleasant.

--

It was no surprise to Mammon that Lucifer texted him shortly after the whole ordeal. He was just thankful that Lucifer hadn’t decided to come up to his room and literally tear into him after biting you. Of all the people to bite in the entire Devildom, it just had to be you didn’t it? Lucifer: Mammon. I have strictly instructed the household that you are not to be disturbed until I have given the all clear. You will stay in your room and I will bring you provisions at regular intervals. If you need anything, you will let me know. Are we clear? Mammon: Yes. Lucifer: Good. He waited, hopeful that Lucifer would provide an update on you. After an eon of waiting (which was actually all of seven minutes) he decided to ask. Mammon: Are they okay?

Lucifer: They are. And they will continue to be so long as you stay in your room and do not venture out. Ensure that you lock your door and remember to take your pheromone blockers as well or the whole house will reek of your mating scent. What were brothers for, if not a good motivational speech? --- Chapter 2: Flames Even with Lucifer’s reminder, Mammon had forgotten to take the pheromone blockers and to lock the door. He’d been far too distracted; worrying about your state of health, whether he’d damaged your relationship beyond repair, still trying to keep the lewd thoughts at bay, his instincts fretting over the piece of nest that had been dismantled earlier… It was a lot to be preoccupied with, okay? Without the pheromone blockers, the corridor outside of Mammon’s room was thick with the sweet perfume of a demonic male in heat. It was rich and cloying, the kind of scent that would cling to one’s clothes much to the annoyance of the other residents (Asmodeus excluded).  Mammon, however, didn’t care. He was too busy now attempting to cool the heat in the pit of his stomach and to regain some clarity of mind. An attempt at sleep had been made once his nest had been repaired and Goldie tucked into her rightful place, the lights turned down low and his clothes discarded to some far corner so that he could crawl into the nest in a comfortable state...but how could he sleep when obscene images of you kept popping into his head?  At first, he had tried to keep some semblance of his mind. The demon didn’t like to lose control during his heats. If he could keep his mind, he would keep to his more humanoid forms - and that was what he wanted. Because if you did, by chance, happen upon him...well. He didn’t want to scare you. Before he allowed himself to spiral into the anxiety of your imagined reaction, he reached for his ridiculously large bottle of lube. If he was going to dwell on the thought of anything, it was going to be how good he knew you’d feel… --- Mammon wouldn’t have been able to say how much time had passed. He had brought himself to orgasm more times than he could count - but it only seemed to just take off the edge. A demon’s heat was never an easy thing, but why was this time around so damn difficult?  Satan would have been able to answer that with ease, the smug bastard; if a demon chooses a mate they will, naturally, be most inclined to couple with said mate for optimal breeding. To not couple with a chosen mate could make a heat worse - but to withhold coupling at all? Well, it would be a foolish endeavour.  The Avatar of Greed hadn’t realised just how he was slipping ; wings and horns had appeared without him even registering and his fangs had dropped to a predatory length (which he only noticed when he had apparently attempted to put a mating mark on a pillow covered in one of your stolen shirts that he’d been desperately rutting against, much to his embarrassment).  His breathing was rough. Mammon was equal parts exhausted and invigorated. He wanted nothing more than to let his knees fall out from under him so that sleep would hopefully take him - he wanted to stalk down the hall and into your room and fuck you senseless. And if Lucifer found out? Well, Mammon would love to see him try to pry you from his arms.  The very thought made him snarl, his grip on his cock tightening. It was enraging to even think that his brother would dare, a thought that had him so preoccupied that he didn’t hear the door click open.  His blue eyes slipped over to you and the wet sound of him furiously fucking his fist stopped abruptly. It was impossible to tell which one of you was redder. This was not what he had been expecting. “Uh-” A rasp of your name interrupted you. “Didn’t Lucifer tell you not to come?” He watched as you nodded dumbly, “Yes”. Heavy breath was the only noise to pass between you several beats. The demon in front of you was wondering whether this was fate; you weren’t running, you looked interested and, fuck, you smelled so good. You smelled aroused and it made him growl; “C’mere then”. The way that you slammed the door and scampered toward him practically had him preening in pleasure. Just as eager, Mammon scrambled over to meet you, flustered yet excited, and hauled you up close to him. He bumped your foreheads together. From here it was easy to see how incredibly blown his pupils were, to feel how desperately ragged his breathing was. You were dangerously close. “Now, see here, I'm gonna give ya one chance to go. ‘Cause if I kiss ya, I’m not gonna be able to stop. I won’t be able to let ya go. You’ll be stuck with me for the whole fuckin’ ride, ya hear?” Holy shit, his voice was so strained. “Then kiss me, you dummy.” No repeat was necessary. Mammon threaded his fingers into your hair, hesitating for only the briefest moment before pressing his lips to yours. When you responded in kind his fervour, his deep rooted greed, quickly followed. He’d wanted to kiss you from day one and not a moment had gone by since  without him imagining it. This felt so incredibly right. But he couldn’t ignore the heat curling in his gut. He needed you, wanted you. And as far as he could tell, despite the dark whispers in the back of his mind saying otherwise, you seemed to feel the same.The way that you returned his greedy kisses, how your fingers had twisted sharply in his hair, how you didn’t seem to mind the messy clicking of his elongated fangs against your blunt teeth as he tried to figure out how best to navigate your mouth in this form - how could he deny that he was wanted?  Mammon's only regret when looking back on this evening with you would be not savouring your body laid bare for him for the first time. His mind was too heat-addled to appreciate it; he was unable to slowly peel off your layers and to have the sentiment returned in kind as he had previously fantasised about. In his mind’s eye, he had a whole big romantic gesture planned if you had decided to sleep with him. Previously, he had imagined how he would make love to you and treasure every moment of it...but alas… Your clothes were quickly stripped from you, sharp fangs nipping at new skin as it was exposed. There was no delicate treatment here and he paid no heed to the sound of torn material. When he next plundered your mouth, it was far smoother than the first time - he was a fast learner, after all.  The only complaint that he had about kissing you was that it muffled those beautiful noises of yours. When he broke the seal of your mouths it was to gently toss you back toward the top of the bed, deeper into his nest and into the comfort of a ridiculous amount of pillows - to properly secure you into his nest. To see you like that felt...good. It felt right. It was clear that was exactly where you belonged. The very image had him growling in satisfaction as he took the opportunity to crawl over your body, his fingers gripping at the meat of your thighs and hips as if ensuring that you were truly there with him. Thankfully, his nails had not yet turned into talons or they would have pierced through you with ease at the way that he handled your flesh.  Mammon had to take a deep breath when he looked at you this time. He needed to make sure that he didn’t hurt you while doing this - it was the last thing in the world that he wanted. It was unusual for the Avatar of Greed to put the needs of others before his own...but you weren’t just some ‘other’. You were you. His very own treasure, his very own mate. Reluctantly, a hand left your body to fish for something buried within the nest. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” He coated his fingers generously in lube, desperate to ensure that he would cause as little pain as possible, “Just fuckin’ perfect”. Two fingers slipped into you as Mammon spoke, his tone low and hoarse. Never had he imagined just how difficult it would be to hold himself back like this, nor could he have been prepared for just how much desire he felt in that moment. The sensation of your hot core wrapped around his fingers had him shamelessly rutting against your thigh, a poor attempt at taking the edge off of his lust.  A human really had no business wrecking him like this. His heat cycles were normally pretty boring - desperate rutting for a day or two and then back to normal life. You had no right to set his skin aflame like this, no right to have him feel like he could cum just from the noise you made once he had three fingers fucking into your heat. The way his blood was rushing in his ears was deafening...and he wanted more. It didn’t take too long for it all to get too much. Even all of the dark hickies that he had furiously littered your neck, chest and shoulders with weren’t enough to distract him from the wet sound of his fingers preparing you or the stunning sounds he managed to pull from you when he got the angle of his hand just right.  Mammon would never admit it, but he kind of missed his target. The point of removing his hand from you had been to slip himself right in. Instead, as he kissed you he rolled his slick cock against your sex...which, to be fair, had felt better than your thigh. And if the sound that you’d made in response was anything to go by, you thought so too.  He liked that noise. A lot. So he rolled his hips against you again, groaning in response to you. Ever eager to please, the greedy demon found a rhythm that you both seemed to enjoy in the interim. “Ya like that, huh?” Mammon wasn’t sure where the cockiness in his tone was coming from when internally he felt so nervous. It was those very nerves that quickly had his hand moving to guide his cock to your entrance and thrusting into you before you could retort. Mammon didn’t realise it would silence both of you.  By no means was he a virgin. The Great Mammon would have it known that he was a proper Casanova type, thank you very much. He just didn’t realise how different it would feel coupling with someone that he truly and deeply loved. The heat causing that deep need to breed the closest thing with a pulse didn’t help things, of course.  It was...incredible, for lack of a better word. Divine. Mammon choked on an Infernal curse once seated completely in you and had to literally bite his tongue to keep an anchor on his self-control.  All of that hard earned control was thrown out the window when his name passed your lips.  There was no hesitation in how his hips pistoned, fucking into you relentlessly. His hands manoeuvred to cradle the back of your knees and he pushed your legs back to allow him more access to your body, his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. The noises that left him were snaps and snarls of Infernal praise, not that he realised. The only thought on Mammon’s mind was his primal objective of breeding you until neither of you could move ; it didn’t matter whether you could actually fall pregnant or not. No logic or worry clouded his mind with these thoughts. All he could focus on was filling you with his seed until he couldn’t any more, the thought of your stomach tender and round because of his affections toward his mate... Mammon’s first orgasm came with an embarrassing quickness. When he spilled inside of you, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your chest, he was quickly filled with a relief and warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. For the first time since his heat had set in, there was true clarity in his mind. While his natural instincts weren’t completely quelled, it was enough for him to actually think with something other than his adamantly pulsing dick. His relief quickly fell to mortification, the shadows of which were clear on his features when he pulled back to look at you. His cheeks were tinted red both from exertion and embarrassment ; he hadn’t paid enough attention to get you to climax. He was quick to stutter out your name, mouth tripping on the words that were trying to get out of his mouth as his sluggishly content brain tried to supply words just beyond reach. “What, isn’t The Great Mammon going to make me cum?” Your sass fanned the flames in his loins. A playful snarl was made in response, “Oh sweetheart. I’m going to make you cum so fuckin’ hard you black out. You won’t be able to feel your legs by the time I’m done with you”. And so The Great Mammon set to work. --- Mammon hummed contentedly as you lazily played with the hair at the nape of his neck hours later. This was perfection. Strong fingers stroked your thighs as he enjoyed the sensation of you wrapped around his hips, the pleasure of you sat on his lap while cuddled up together in your nest. The demon toyed with the thought of pushing his hips up just to make you gasp from the overstimulation, but decided against it. Although he was loath to admit it, you needed rest - because Mammon had been good to his word, ensuring that you both had more than your fair share of orgasms.  But this was good. The fire in his gut had died down to crackling embers, although he knew it would flare up again soon - but you would be there to help ease him through it. And you even seemed to like helping him out. What was the phrase… ‘mutually beneficial’? Somethin’ like that. His eyes fluttered open when he heard your chuckle. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew how freakin’ stunning you were when you smiled like that. “What?” When your eyes met his, he was pouting frowning. The laugh that you let out only made his brow furrow more, “I said what. What’s got ya laughin’ like that, huh? You should be out like a freakin’ light by now”. It wasn’t until you replied that he realised how obvious it was, “I didn’t know that demons could purr”. Mammon squawked loudly and attempted to divert your attention - he sounded like a damn motor! It wasn’t fair! He wasn’t even able to control the way he was going off… It was embarrassing. “Well, yeah, y’know, sometimes. We’re incredible ‘n mysterious creatures us demons, y’know! Demons are capable of things that your human mind couldn’t even comprehend! Anyway, ’s not like ’s all the time or anythin’ like that…” He tried to occupy himself and forget about the heat radiating from his face by playing with your hair - but he could feel you smiling against the crook of his neck. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” The incredible and mysterious demon sounded more like a petulant child (well, a purring and petulant child). “So, when do you normally purr?” “I dunno. When we’re happy, I guess?” “Does that mean I haven’t made you happy before?” The way that he spluttered was definitely worth teasing him. “Who said that ya haven’t made me happy?! ‘N besides, this is different!” Even Mammon couldn’t deny that he was now pouting, but he tried to focus on the feeling of your fingers running along his shoulders. It was nice; soothing, even. Until he felt a sharp tug on the back of his neck.  “Ouch! You gotta be more gentle than that!” The look of surprise on your face made him want to curl in on himself. “Mammon - are those feathers?” “Phffft,” The greedy demon rolled his eyes and tried to deflect your query, “Shaddap. You dunno what you’re talking ‘bout”.  When your mouth opened again, he did take the opportunity to thrust sharply into you. At the gasp, he lurched forward with a passionate kiss. Simply to shut you up, of course. No hidden agenda. His pleased purring melted into a deep rumbling, the fire in his belly stoking itself back to life. It was impossible for him not to roll you over to allow him to bask in more of your shared passion. The laughter that ensued, laughter that he was sure was aimed at him, only made his heart swell as much as his cock.