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#he’d do something stupid on a day i woke up with my tummy hurting and his head would be on a pike in a second
ivyithink · 2 years
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continuation of that “kids having the same expressions as the adults in their lives/relatives” post with aelfwynn
athelstan gets bonus meat portions with those “resigned with hints of melancholy and frustration” looks of his
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h2bakugou · 3 years
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Hello! Could I please get a soft shiggy x fem!reader? Basically the reader is like god dammit why aren’t u taking care of urself? And basically gives him a lil homemade spa day! I think it’d be really cute! It can be fluff or smut, whatever you prefer!
a/n: hii!! of course!! i kept this kinda fluffy, posting a day later but happy birthday shiggy baby
summary: the constant state that shigaraki stays in while running the league is certainly an interesting one, but you can’t bear watching him not take care of himself. so you arrange a day to do just that
key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk
warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of not eating, mentions of anxiety, a few mentions of nudity but nothing sexual
word count: 2.2k (okay pop awf-)
;cut for length;
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The prominent dark circles under Shigaraki’s eyes were a clear indication that he had been up all night again. Even while he sat in the bed beside you, playing a game on some handheld console, you could tell he hadn’t been to sleep at all in the past twenty-four hours.
Trying to ignore the soft sounds coming from his game, you cuddled up to him anyway, slinging an arm under on of his, resting your hand back up on his shoulder, your grasp resembling that of a backpack strap.
“What are you playing?” You mumbled quietly, your eyes just barely peeking over his arm, the screen illuminated a little too brightly for your comfort.
“Some weird RPG I downloaded from a forum. It’s stupid.” Shigaraki quickly turned the game console off and set it on the night stand, turning over to look at you.
“You look tired, did you not sleep good last night?” You ask, reaching a delicate hand up to caress his cheek, thumb carefully grazing over the top his cheek. You pull him in for a delicate kiss, just barely touching his lips.
You were still half-asleep, but you could tell Shigaraki wasn’t taking care of himself again. He had these spells, usually around the time when the League wasn’t doing much, plotting or just moving around, he wouldn’t sleep, he’d barely eat-his excuse would be he forgot, but you knew he was anxious.
Anxious for what was to come. He was a good leader, and he was strong, probably stronger than you were, but that didn’t matter. You were worried about him.
You couldn’t stand seeing those dark circles under his eyes, of hearing his tummy rumble when you lay next to him. It seemed the scratching on his neck would worsen as well, raw skin peeking through under the already cracked and dry skin he itched at for what felt like hours.
“Didn’t sleep.” He replied quietly. He knew you were about to scold him. He could read it all over your face as you pouted, pulling him into you.
“You could’ve woke me up, and we could’ve done something to help you fall asleep.” You sit up, ushering him to lay in your lap. As he does so, you take one look at his hair and inwardly cringe.
It’s a knotted mess, and no matter how much you wanted to run your fingers through it, you probably wouldn’t even get halfway before having to brush your fingers out of there with a hair brush. Or worse, cut them out.
“Didn’t wanna bug you.” Shigaraki seemed cold. His responses were dry. You heaved a sigh and pushed him up by his shoulders. Slinking out of the bed, you walked around to his side and tugged him out, pulling him over to the bathroom by his arms.
“How many times have I told you I don’t mind.” You sigh as you set him down on he toilet lid, watching as he just nods, hanging his head as you turn on the water for the bath.
Allowing it to warm up, you turn back to him and tug at his shirt.
“Arms up.” You speak softly, proceeding to take his shirt off as he lifts his arms up.
“When did you get this!?” You’re visibly and audibly worried as you spot a rather large bruise on his side. It looked like it hurt.
“Last fight.” Shigaraki sighed and glanced up at you.
“What are you doing?” His lips were fitted in a thin line, his eyelids were barely open, probably to heavy to even try.
“I’m going to help you relax. Look, your shoulders are so tense you can’t even relax them!” You went to touch his shoulders and just as you had stated, the muscles felt locked and telling by the hissing from Shigaraki, they were painful to move and touch.
“Alright alright! Just, am I taking a bath?” He questioned. You nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to undress the rest of the way before getting into the tub, his lips parting as he sat down, the warm water already making him feel slightly better.
Taking a cup you’d left in the bathroom from dumping out some soda, you rinsed it quickly under the sink, making sure it wasn’t sticky, and then brought it over to the tub where you scooped up some water and poured it over Shigaraki’s hair.
Once it was wet enough to lather some shampoo in, you allowed him to lean back as you worked your fingers through his locks. Unknotting his hair and washing it was a bit difficult, but taking your time, you made sure every strand of his hair was clean.
Your fingers worked their way back up to his scalp where you massaged for quite a few minutes, both to try and remove any built up dirt and dandruff and to give him a bit of a massage.
Shigaraki was almost purring in satisfaction as you finally dragged your hands away, reaching for the cup to rinse his hair. It didn’t take you long to rinse out all the suds before getting started on the conditioner.
“Thank you.” Shigaraki mumbled, holding his knees to his chest, his head dipped back so you could wash his hair easier.
“Of course. I know you haven’t been taking care of yourself again, I know you don’t mean too, but I can’t help but notice.” You sigh, running the pleasant-smelling conditioner through his white locks.
“You have these weird spells. I understand though, how you feel. It’s not easy being the leader, I can’t imagine the stress you feel, but you’ve got to take care of yourself. It’s important. You gotta be strong for the league, and for yourself.” You know Shigaraki, a little more than everyone else in the league does.
You’re dating him for peat’s sake. But Shigaraki became standoffish, grumpy, and even distant during these spells. There was nothing to do. Besides maybe make up a plan for a little something just to do something.
He was anxious about the little things. About how the league looked to the public. About how long they had stayed in one location. About how long it had been since their last big attack.
He needed to get back to league business, but there needed to be time, a good plan, an opening, the forces to attack, all of it needed to be planned with pinpoint accuracy, and those things took time.
“I love you, a whole bunch.” You lean over and kiss his cheek, smiling as his cheeks burn red.
You lather up a loofa with some nice scented soap and begin to wash his back and shoulders, down his arms and a little on his neck.
You’re extra careful around his neck and try not to get any of the scented soap on his raw skin. You know it hurts, and it’ll sting when water washes over it, but you’ll have to take extra good care of that spot later.
When you’re finished washing him, you drain the water and let him stand up, switching the bath to a shower and you begin to rinse him off.
It feels so domestic, these few minutes. The way you laugh and giggle when you tell him to lift his arms and spin and then call yourself some sort of car wash as you spray the warm water over him.
“You’re making a mess.” Shigaraki states at the various puddles of water on the bathroom floor. You sigh and finally help him rinse his conditioned hair out, asking him to hold the shower head for you while you run your fingers through his hair and ring out all the suds.
After the shower, you let him stand and air dry why you go and retrieve a towel. Upon walking in, he’s turned away from you, so you decide to pinch his butt, playfully of course.
Shigaraki just turns and glares at you, taking the towel from you as you giggle.
“I touched the butt.” You laugh as you leave the bathroom, letting him dry off. While he does so, you search around for a pair of boxers to hand him as well as a comfy t-shirt to put on after you give him a nice back massage.
Handing him his underwear, you look away and decide to make the bed quickly while he gets partially dressed.
“Where’s my shirt?” He questions. You turn and for a few seconds, you’re flustered. There’s Shigaraki, hair dripping wet and running down his toned chest, right down to the waist band of his black boxers. The towel you’d given him is lazily tossed over one shoulder, and he looks like some sort of actor out of a terrible romance movie.
Too entranced by his looks, you quickly shake your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You pat the freshly made bed.
“Back massage.” You blurt out kneeling on the bed, waiting for him to lay down.
“Flustered?” Shigaraki stands beside the bed, a finger under your chin as you look up at him. You lean up and kiss his lips, smiling as you pull away.
“Well when you look that good can you blame me?” You tease, waiting as he lays down on the bed like you had motioned for.
“I guess not.” He replies.
Laying his head over his folded arms, his chest is against the bed. You move to sit over his butt as you look at his back. Still a little damp from the shower, you take the towel that had been tossed on the bed and dry it off, running it through his wet locks a bit.
Tossing it down onto the floor, too unbothered about it leaving a wet-mark on the carpet, You squirt some lotion into your hand and delicately begin to rub it into his back, carefully drawing your fingers across his skin, massaging it up over his shoulders.
Your fingers work magic as you relieve his tension, working at his shoulders carefully and strategically, undoing any knots that had formed.
Shigaraki’s eyes are closed, and small hums of satisfaction spill from his mouth as you do so.
You spend minutes massaging his back, quietly and gently working lotion into his skin. And when you’re finished, you ask him to sit up and face you. He puts on a shirt and you ask for his hands.
He’s skeptical but allows you to see one. You carefully apply some lotion to your hand and begin to massage it in, working down each one of his fingers before gently massaging his palm.
He stares at you in admiration as you seem un-phased by his hands, or the fact that he could kill you with them if you messed up. You don’t even look anxious, or worried about them.
And when you switch to his other hand, you continue, even when his fingers twitch. You just smile and kiss the back of his hand when you’re done, complementing the way he looks.
Interlocking your hands with his, Shigaraki’s eyes go wide.
“Careful!” He speaks up, falling into you as you tug him back.
He’s laying on top of you as you lay under him, smiling up at him.
“I can handle myself, don’t worry. Now come here.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him like a sloth. You can’t help but giggle as he turns over, allowing you to be on top of him.
“You’re so stupid.” Shigaraki sighs, closing his eyes. You brush your nose against his, kissing the tip of his nose before burying your head into the crook of his neck.
“But you love me. And I love you too.” You kiss his neck gently, closing your eyes as you rest against him.
“I do love you.” Shigaraki’s arms are wrapped over your back, holding you down on top of him. He smiles and finally feels how tired he was.
“I’m gonna go make breakfast soon, so take a little nap okay?” You sit up and kiss his forehead.
“I can’t fall asleep without you.” Shigaraki mumbles, holding you tighter.
“This is a bad idea. I’m gonna fall back asleep too.” You mumble reaching for a blanket. Shigaraki helps cover the both of you.
“Guess we’re napping then.” Shigaraki kisses your cheek, nuzzling his head against yours.
“Guess so.” Your words are quiet as you slip back to sleep, peacefully dozing off as Shigaraki does the same.
It’s a bit of a long nap, a couple hours pass. And when you wake up, you make some food for the both of you, eating a big meal while watching a show on Netflix. The day is all about Shigaraki and so cuddles are a must when you’re finished eating.
You switch from basic cuddling to sitting in his lap, to even under his baggy t-shirt, your head poking through the head-hole, your back against his chest.
It’s a long day, but it’s spent with Shigaraki, taking care of him and showing him how much you truly adore him. And he loves it.
And at the end of the night, when you go to bed for real after gaming for an unreal amount of time, he holds you close and kisses the top of your head. You’re tuckered out completely sound asleep as he begins to doze off himself.
He loves you. He really does.
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muffindaddystyles · 4 years
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Okay but vamp!harry x reader where the reader goes for a late night walk alone because she’s feeling anxious (Harry tries to insist on coming with but she says no) but soon he can sense somethings wrong and goes to look for her and finds her in a dangerous situation! I need protective vampire Harry 🥺
Disclaimer: Reader with ADHD, Vampire!H x fem!reader, cock warming.
Harry's been doing humanly things. Moreso trying for his little human whom he doesn't want to dissapoint when she's making ećlairs or pop tarts for him and all he knows is to eat them despite of being a helping hand. His fingers are magical —--- they relax her in the most livid way while he's feeding from her. Honestly, it's all she wants. Her making sweets for him and him pleasuring her in the most bizarre way.
But. Sometimes she get's emotionally exhausted that the physical activities looks like breaking a mountain for her and all she does is snuggle under the snoozy layers of her childhood blankets cuddling her cat to calm her down.
Now her tranquility is Harry.
It's one of those days. She's been feeling like a failure. An utter dimwit for not getting what's happening in her sociology class, why her neighbours are always grumpy with her and why she isn't able to study anything. It's depressing her.
Harry never left her side. She's like a honey gooed all over him not even letting him bring the pizzas he ordered for them, "Don't!" She squeaks in a weak voice catching his wrists and he sits back cupping the nape of her neck looking straight in her eyes to assure her with his whole existence, "'ey baby . . my sweet girl 'm not goin' anywhere. Delivery boy's been waiting outside -- just a mo', yeah?" He sponges a gentle kiss at her temple stroking her cheek to calm her down.
They've rented a VR receiver and alot of silver movies watching them while eating pizza. She giggles and Harry smiles goofily when he had to hit the receiver twice to make it work, "c'mon you should know how all of this work old man." He strides towards her pulling her up with armpits into his embrace and tickling hard.
"Old man huh!? Ol' ma —" He pretends to eat her whole and she squeals between her laughs, "'m sorry you're my man!" Huffs smugly giving her a breather and pecks her not twice but thrice. If he could kiss her all day. He would. She's his human. It surprises him sometimes when he's alone with his thoughts. He loves her to fucking bits and pieces.
When she's like this everyone and everything feels outta her reach. As if they're miles away from her and she's standing in barren cold. In the amidst of sappy movie she shrinks closer to him stuffing her face into his ribs wounding her leg around his abdomen and he makes her feel warm wrapping his arms around her to push her up on his thigh. Snapping his gaze down at her when the lil sniffs of her reached his ears, "What's wrong kitten . . . hurts to see ya like this baby. Love you so much." He never fails to promise that he loves her to core.
"'M jus . . . thinking tha –-- that when I'll die you'll be still here 'n . . . 'n y'would get so lonely." She hiccups without a break, "Dunno. Can't stop crying 'm sorry." She gives out an ugly sob into his chest. It's breaking his already feeble heart. God he could scream the affection to the moon he have for this girl. In such a tragic moment all she is thinking is about him.
He cups squishes both her cheeks with his calloused palms telling her to breath with slow gestures then when she's way better speaks in his softest voice, "My baby listen to me hmm? We're never thinking of future don't wan'ye to wreck ye'r beautiful brain for stupid deaths --- secondly too bad miss Y/N 'm gonna cling to ye like leech of your nightmares." He wipes her tears away ever so caringly and gives her eskimo kisses while she giggles snorting at the end when Harry brought his big goldfish orbs in the middle to make her laugh.
"'M glad to have you." She whispers smudging her wet lips softly against his's into a heart melting blood warming kiss and Harry shushes her when she whines clutching the hem of his sweater, "bite me? She asks politely rather than being batty as for she was being within past days rilling him upto extreme to get her neck and skin sprinkled with hickeys that turns into bites.
"Don't wanna hurt ye', lovie." He pushes her hair away peering down at her with pleading worried eyes, "you wouldn't. promise." He nods flushing her against his chest positioning her head into the crook of his neck. Making her hug him like a koala bear.
Rubs her back. Pats her hair. Sways her along him rather than the seductive warnings he used to give her. He's afraid. She's too fragile at the moment. He'd never forgive himself if something will happen to her, "'m gonna bite. Stop me if ye' don't want it o' hurts." He runs his palms at her sides making her all squirmy.
He pushes her fangs ever so gently to her sweet spot. If she's made of glass making her moan and tight her grip around him warming up his cock in his trousers. It's not always about you dumber. He scolds himself. Suckling lightly and pulling back in a pinch of moment. It's the first time he has almost pretended to drink from her. She's all sleepy in his hold. He carries her to bed and when tries to untangle himself so he could turn the telly off she whines not letting him.
Despite of these much blankets she's still feeling cold. From inside. It feels empty and she isn't liking it at all. Writhes and squirms causing Harry to ask, "ye okay there lovie'?" When she shakes her head with glassy eyes and a pout he understands.
"Cold." Is all she had to say and he's guessing the next, "in ye'r tummy?" When she bobs her head confirming he sighs softly pulling the elastic of his trousers down to free his dick getting rid of the item woving his calves with her, thighs between thighs and places a firm hand on her back moving his thumb into circles non-stop.
"Oh me lil dovlin' c'mere . . want me cock to warm ye up baby? 'S okay s' okay darlin'." He murmurs against her lips tugging at his foreskin hissing when the head of his thick cock gets pushed between their bellys due to approximty. Precome oozes from his strokes and he takes her panties off swiping his crown over her hole to lubricate her. Wounds his arm around the nape of her neck to lap at her mouth swallowing her whines and cries while sliding inside her compact walls twisting his stomach awfully, "shhh. shhh baby love. I got ya. Gonna take care of ye ---- try to sleep. I'll be waiting fo' ye in the morning." Once, situating himself deep and snug inside her. He keeps on embracing her like a little baby.
Next morning though she woke up happy. Harry made her brekkie. Special smiley pancakes with heart shaped eyes from the little strawberry toppings. He really took advantage of his time while she was snoring her ass off. A peach smoothie and cashewnuts. Fed Meowsie. Gave her his morning lovin'. They had the meal together.
He helped her learn some of her course. Then in afternoon made lunch together egg fried rice and stirred vegetables Y/N went to give some of it to their neighbours. Lady Nat asked her if she's okay cause she has stopped stomping in her flat and it made her feel good, weirdly.
//
Maybe it's seasonal sadness that she couldn't get out of it. Harry's in the kitchen cleaning up shelves when he hears the rustle of carpet. He peeks from the wall to find her pooling into a big hoodie and slipping into her shoes. He frowns throwing the rag away to walk towards her immediately, "where ye' goin' lovie? Ye' okay what happened?" He runs his hands over her shoulders to her hair making her meet his eyes.
She nods squeezing his wrists, "don't worry just wanna . . . take a walk — clear my head." Hearing this he quickly moves to wear his jacket.
"'M goin' with you." He declares and she knows if that'll happen she wouldn't be able to, "No. Alone." She fumbles with the strings of her hoodie. He sighs not fond of the idea brows knighting together thumbing at her jaw with concern screaming in his eyes.
"Can I mark you then?" He asks knowing what hides in the shadows of outside; creatures evil than his entire existence. He doesn't want to make her feel like she owes him explanations for her each and every movement but gosh does it scare him to his bones. She's the only person who could make him weak into knees and a mesh of puddle at the thought of even the thorn pricking her, "okie." She cranes her neck and it still amuses him she's exactly how she was when he first met her. That gentle rose under the moon meant for Harry to care and water with love.
After adorning her with a crimson mark and little peck he tugs her closer hooking his nose to her hair taking a good sniff of her cocoa scent, "keep your phone in ye' hand and don't walk through the cherry street." There's nothing there but stray dogs that she's afraid of. It's better he advises her.
"Ai. Ai captain!" She salutes him stomping her feet and he chuckles kissing her cheek wet-ly, "Go before I change me mind."
//
He wanted it not to creep it to his mind but it's not helping AT ALL. He's been restless and it's been fifteen minutes since she has left. He's sitting sunk into sofa with Meowsie snuggled under his chin while he shakes his knees, cracks his knuckles, combs his hair and groans into his palms. In short throwing tantrum like a toddler missing her already and constantly worrying about her. Something doesn't feel right at all. That gut wrenching horror of losing her biting him alive.
He mutters a fuck it going to look for her and bring her back home. He was right. He has always been. Good at instincts. For fuck's sake. He's a vampire!
Y/N was walking along the path which's the lead way to a park when a dark vibe gloomed over her head. The next she knows is she's being pinned to a wall with demonic eyes snatching at her soul: it takes her breath away outta horror.
"No wonder why Harry kisses the earth you walk on." He chuckles darkly accent an old Scottish and she gulps eyes stinging with tears, "I would to . . if I get to drink such sweet ripe blood." Her eyes widens when his fangs pokes out from his gums glistening under the lamp light.
She tries to kick him in balls to get rid of his painful grip when an angry growl echoes towards them loudly and the person who had her trapped wooshes from her sight in a bolt to ground making her shriek.
"She's not a fuckin' feeder stay the fuck away from her!!" Harry grits spitting venom. Choking the person under him, "tol' ya she's my girl and I'll shred everyone alive if they'll even breath in her direction." She has never seen him this furious. Tone harsh and snappy she never heard coming from him it makes her cry.
He had warned his fellows when the news of him spread that he has bonded to human. But well they've thick skulls.
The man under him just smirks pushing him away and coughing into his elbow standing up. "Whatever thought sharing is caring, Styles." Harry glares him resentfully. Fisting a punch at his side but stables himself when a dainty hand wraps around his fingers clutching tight.
He turns ducking down to her level cupping her cheeks and tries to examine her for any kind of injury, "ye' okay? Did he hurt you? Tell me and — " she rubs her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie shaking her head vigorously.
"No. 'M fine sorry should've listened to you." He puffs out a breath of guilt letting his forehead fall against her's, "don't be sorry -- it's none of ye'r fault baby."
"Glad you're safe." He whispers hugging her with the sway of bodies, "I love you." She tells him honestly tip-toeing to kiss him and it unfortunately reaches his silky jaw only.
"And all the things you do for me." He grins down at her. He lives on praises. The cheeky bastard.
"How about eatin' ice-cream while taking swings in the park?" He intertwines their hands warmly kissing her knuckles and she quips excitedly, "sounds great!"
.
AN: idk why read more button isn't working sorry for the bug.
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yikesharringrove · 4 years
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I know it's dark and maybe you don't want to touch the subject and you've not been doing well lately but can I request one of the boys with an eating disorder? I can totally see Steve being restrictive or purging (anorexia or bulimia) or Billy with an obsession on being healthy (orthorexia)
So, I actually have another drabble request coming soon with orthorexic billy, so I’m gonna do one for our sweet boy stevie. Wanna wreck this babey
Trigger Warnings for: disordered eating (anorexia), hospitalization, and an ng feeding tube.
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Steve’s mother had a drawer full of diet pills.
She would take a few with her wine, and be much too full, no really she couldn’t dream of having another bite whenever dinner rolled around.
She would smile sadly at Steve and pinch at the softness of his belly, tell him darling, our looks are all we have.
And the diet pills were an easy solution.
Steve stole a few bottles. Not that she would even notice, began taking them to replace dinner. Then to replace breakfast and dinner.
Then he just, kinda stopped eating.
He would have something every few days, a few crackers or a spoonful of peanut butter, when the groans of his stomach were unbearable.
But then he learned to ignore it, to file it away and go days without food.
He kept the weight off.
Of course he did, he wasn’t putting anything in his body to balance it out.
And the thinner he got, the thinner he wanted to be.
He stopped working out.
Didn’t have much in the way of energy for it anyway.
And then his muscles were gone, and you could see his ribs through his skin.
Our looks are all we have.
He liked tracing his bones as he lay in bed at night, liked how delicate his collar bones felt, how sharp his hip bones were.
It didn’t matter that he’d wake up the next morning with a migraine and clumps of hair on the pillow.
His softness was gone, his cheeks weren’t pinch able anymore.
His parents came home to an empty fridge, and an empty drawer where diet pills used to be.
His father sneered at him, told him he looked like death warmed over.
His mother fussed with his clothes, tried to get them to fit right.
Nothing fit right.
But it didn’t matter.
Because he had his looks.
It doesn’t matter if his skin was waxy, or his hair was thinning.
Because his elegant bones stood out so beautifully.
“Jesus, Harrington.”
Billy was staring at him, staring at him like he wasn’t elegant. “You’re. Real skinny.” Steve tried to sit back up, tug on his shirt and kick Billy out of his house.
But he didn’t have enough energy to push Billy off him.
He couldn’t help getting angry, snapping at Billy.
“What about it, Hargrove?” Billy furrowed his brows, rolling off of Steve to sit next to him on the bed.
“Are you, like, are you anorexic?”
He watched Steve’s muscles shift under his skin as he sat up.
“You look-”
“I look how I want.”
“There’s no way you want this. Steve, you look like a fucking skeleton.” Steve pulled the blankets up of himself. Billy wouldn’t understand. “Why are you doing this?”
Because of a mother that always said our looks are all we have and Steven, must you eat like such a piglet? and a father that would say if you were a girl I’d tell you to marry well and people respect you if you’ve got money and looks. Don’t be an idiot and lose them.
“It’s what I want.”
“It’s killing you.” Billy’s eyes were wide. “Steve, you’ve gotta, like, go to the hospital or something. I don’t even know what to do.” He looked panicked, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.
“You don’t have to do anything.”
But then Steve stood up.
His vision always fuzzed at the edges these days, but sometimes it just went black.
He woke up some time later, a dull pain in his head.
He opened bleary eyes, found himself in a hospital bed.
He glared at Billy sitting next to him. Billy glared right back.
“Why am I here?” His voice was raspy, his throat hurt.
Billy rolled his eyes, scoffing at him.
“Isn’t it fucking obvious?” Steve went to wipe at his nose, found a tube taped to his face, shoved up his nostril. His eyes went wide. “Yeah. Feeding tube.”
“What the fuck?”
“Look, you fucking passed out and I wanted to make sure you weren’t concussed. Basically, you’re fine but severely malnourished, so, feeding tube.”
“Fuck you.” Steve slumped against the bed. He had half a mind to yank the thing right out of him.
“Yeah, whatever.” Billy mirrored him, slumping back in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “Just, a lot of shit made sense, I guess. Every time I suggest a dinner date, you get this weird look in your eye. And you never eat the popcorn when we go to the movies.”
Steve looked down at his hands.
“How long?” Billy’s voice was soft again.
“I don’t even know. I’ve always, I don’t think I’ve ever felt good about myself.” He was fidgeting with his fingers.
Since when were they like that? So pale and frigid. They looked like skeleton hands.
“Steve, you do realize you’re hurting yourself, right? Like I mean, you’re just slowly starving to death.”
“Maybe that was the idea. To die in the slowest, most painful way I could on the off chance that someone would actually notice. Would bother to care.”
“I did. I noticed. I care.” Steve gave him a look.
“Not for nothing, but we’ve gone on like, six dates, and were just about to fuck when you got weirded out by my body. Not exactly the best reaction I’ve had.”
“Yeah, but at least I reacted.” Billy’s jaw was tense. He checked his watch. “They called your mom. She consented to have you admitted. You’re keepin’ the feeding tube and doin’ all kindsa therapy and shit. Your mom gave a big ol’ performance. I could hear her screaming through the phone about my precious, beautiful baby!” Billy put on a high voice to imitate her.
“So, they’re institutionalizing me?”
“Nah. You just can’t be trusted right now, so they’re getting you help.”
“So, it’s more like prison.”
“If prison was nicer and you got food shot through your special nose tube and a therapist told you how worthwhile you are every day.” Steve cracked a little smile at that. Just a tiny one.
“Will you visit me?”
“Probably not. I think if I did, they’d lock me up too.” Billy grinned as Steve laughed lightly. “‘Course I’ll visit.”
“Did they say how long?”
“Tops, a month. But your mom was babblin’ about some rehab center in Ottowa that her friend’s sister’s cabana boy’s cousin’s wife’s daughter’s husband went to, or some shit like that.”
“Isn’t rehab like, drugs?”
“Not necessarily.” Billy huffed, his face going serious. “I want you to, like, try. Talk your shit out in therapy and try to work up to eating on your own. I want you to be healthy.”
“But what if, what if my healthy is, like, a little bigger?” Steve had always had a little tummy, some extra meat on his hips and thighs, a round ass.
“Then I’ll fucking welcome it. I don’t care what your healthy looks like. I just want it.”
“You won’t when you realize I’m fat.”
“Yeah? Why not?” Billy had a challenge in his voice, had a sharpness in his eye.
Steve just shook his head.
“Okay, I  seriously, don’t care if your body is big. If you’re happy, and you’re healthy, I don’t fucking care. There’s nothing bad about being fat.”
“Yeah? Tell that to my mother.” Steve scrunched his nose. The tube was uncomfortable, threaded through his nose and down his throat. The tape securing it to his face was itchy, and really, he just wanted to rip the damn thing out. “I don’t wanna hear what she’s gonna say.”
“I’ll stay here the whole time. Tell her to stuff it when she gets goin’.”
Steve smiled at him weakly.
“I just meant, like. If I start getting fat again.”
Billy narrowed his eyes. 
“I think you meant, when you start getting healthy. Because you will. And that will come with weight gain, but that’s not bad. Having fat, being fat isn’t bad, Steve. I know you really don’t believe me right now, but I hope you will. Because it sucks seeing you hurt yourself when I think you’re still absolutely amazing no matter how your body looks.”
Jesus, it was so goddamn sweet. Kinda made Steve melt a little bit inside.
“I, uh, thanks. Thank you, Billy.”
Billy reached forward to take one of Steve’s hands in his. One of his cold, thin, hands. It was shocking, the difference between his hand and Billy’s. It was so much paler, so much thinned despite his hand being overall bigger.
“I’m kinda. I’m kinda scared. Is that stupid?”
“No. Getting better is probably gonna be hard. But, it’s important. You’re, important.” A deep flush was creeping up Billy’s neck, but he was holding eye contact with Steve. “And I’ll be around for you. If you want.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I want you around.”
Billy brought their hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand.
“Then I’ll be there.”
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Text
turns out that I need you now (much more than you need me)
Summary: Spencer is suffering in silence and it's only made worse when the team messes up and makes him feel even more hurt and insecure. When Hotch goes to check on him, though, things start to look up.
Tags: hurt/comfort, hurt!spencer, getting together, depression, anxiety, happy ending
Pairings: Hotch x Reid
Word Count: 3.5k
Read on AO3
The crushing pit of loneliness deep inside Spencer’s tummy never really seems to leave, the kind that makes his breath snag and his heart rate speed up just a little. He’s surrounded by people who love him, he knows that, but it doesn’t stop the heartache from consuming him; sometimes it only exacerbates it. When he sees JJ and Emily share a private joke at the coffee machine or Derek and Hotch clap each other on the back with familiar smiles on their faces, it reminds him just how removed he is. The BAU would die for him, he knows that. He’s just not sure they’d live for him.
Sometimes he thinks they notice. When Rossi shoots him a concerned look when he’s a little too quiet on the jet or Alex sits with him for just a bit too long after a case, he thinks you’re so close. You’re nearly there. But then Rossi turns to look out the window and Alex is needed somewhere else, and he’s on the sidelines again.
It’s not like it’s new, either. He’s always been a messy melting pot of insecurities and deep feelings of sadness that never fully go away, but he can’t lie to himself. Ever since the meeting last Tuesday in the briefing room, it’s been all-consuming.
He knows they hadn’t meant to, and they’d probably be horrified if they knew how much it had affected him, but the entire interaction had felt like a knife slicing cold and slow under his skin. The case had intrigued him more than others had done recently and it had been a nice feeling, being excited about the work again, so he’d told them about a study one of his colleagues had conducted during his second Ph.D. and how he’d assisted, and Derek rolled his eyes. JJ and Emily stifled a mocking smile. Rossi had tried not to laugh at the girls while Penelope had looked mildly annoyed he’d derailed her briefing. Alex, to her credit, had looked much more pissed off at their reactions than his tangent, but it was Hotch who was the nail in the coffin.
“Reid, please,” he’d frowned disapprovingly, tone harsh as his words slammed into him. “You need to be quiet. Derailing these briefings with stupid and unhelpful tangents is unprofessional and they need to stop. Garcia.” He indicated for her to continue and she’d looked at him gratefully as they all turned their attention back to the screen.
Spencer’s life, really, was a lucky dip of humiliating moments that chipped away at his confidence and sense of self-worth, but this one felt like it took the cake. The feelings that had plagued him for almost a decade throughout his career alongside these people finally felt validated, and it wasn’t even as earth-shattering as he’d expected. There was no drama, no theatrics. Everyone simply turned away while the bottom of his stomach collapsed and his breathing snagged. Even Hotch, the man he’d loved since he joined the BAU, the man who had always been protective of him, looking out for his feelings, his well-being, everything. Even Hotch couldn’t stand him anymore.
He’d worked the case fine, of course. Despite what Hotch had told him, he knew he could be professional when it was needed and he wasn’t about to compromise that. So he offered his expertise when required and kept his tangents in check, making sure to never relax in case the real Spencer spilled out and he started rambling again. It had taken a long time for him to be comfortable enough to let that side of him reveal itself to the team, and it was excruciatingly painful to pack it back away, lock it up, and pretend to be the person he’d tried to be for the majority of his life.
The unsub was apprehended, which gave him a small jump of excitement and satisfaction for a moment before the reality of the situation set back in and he was brought back down to earth. Alex sat next to him on the jet, placing a reassuring hand on his forearm for a second before offering a smile and turning to her crossword. His arm burned with the need to throw himself at her for a much-needed hug, touch-starvation settling deeply into his bones. Restraint felt painful.
The case is over now, though. There’s no adrenaline rush to keep him going, no puzzle motivating him anymore. He’s trapped at his desk, sat next to Derek and Emily’s banter and it feels like highschool again, making himself as small as possible while he prayed for no one to notice him, listening to everyone having a good time. The paperwork occupies him for a little while, but it isn’t long before he’s pulling out files to consult remotely on cases and begging Hotch for a little extra to do.
If he keeps his brain busy, his broken heart won’t weigh him down so much, he rationalises, but even the trip to the coffee machine feels like dragging himself up a mountain. He feels completely oblivious to his surroundings; like he’s stuck in a sea of molasses and everyone around him is speaking in slow-motion, blurring in comparison to the weight of everything he’s feeling.
It only becomes a problem the Wednesday after the meeting, when he finds that he just cannot get out of bed. He’s been on autopilot for at least a week, probably a lot longer than that if he’s honest with himself, and it’s like that function’s just… stopped working. He can’t get up and grab a banana before jumping in the shower and shaving, shrugging on his suit and drinking his first coffee of the day, he can’t even find the willpower to roll over in bed.
Eventually, his alarm turns itself off and he closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.
“Reid? Reid, can you hear me?”
The world gently comes back into focus as he concentrates on the voice coming from behind him, and the first thing he notices is it’s dark outside; somehow the entire day managed to pass him by without him realising. The second thing he notices is how absolutely ravenous he is. Stirring slowly, he eventually rolls over, only to see Hotch crouching by his bed, still in his slightly rumpled suit, though he’s not wearing a tie.
“Hotch?” he questions, sounding as baffled as he feels. Seriously, what happened to make him sleep the day away only to wake up to his boss calling his name? He feels like he should sit up and make himself presentable, but he simply doesn’t have the energy and his bed is far too warm for him to have any desire to unfurl himself from the covers.
“How are you feeling, Spencer?” Hotch replies, voice soft and careful, and that gets his attention. Hotch rarely calls him Spencer and he’s using the voice he talks to Jack or frightened victims with, not him, never him. He meets Hotch’s eyes for the first time, and they’re filled with an emotion he hasn’t seen before, one Hotch has clearly been withholding from him, but all he wants to do is melt into it, sink into the warmth and gentleness he knows will welcome him.
Still, he can’t find the motivation to question anything that’s happening, instead burying deeper down under his duvet and sighing softly. “Tired,” he mumbles eventually, but he realises something else, too, and decides to admit it. What’s the worst that could happen at this point? “Sad.”
Hotch is quiet for a short moment before he replies. “Have you eaten anything today?”
“Don’t think so,” Spencer murmurs, letting his eyes droop closed again.
“I came because I was worried about you,” Hotch says soothingly, answering the question Spencer’s been too tired to ask. “You didn’t show up for work today but we were flat out with a local case all day so I couldn’t come and check on you until now. What’s going on, Spencer? Why didn’t you come in today, or at least call me?”
He has to wait a moment to muster the energy, but eventually, Spencer sits up slightly, leaning against the pillow and the headboard, and meets Hotch’s eyes again. Thinking about what he’s about to say -- what he’s about to admit to somebody else for the first time -- makes him tear up a little, the reminder of the pain he’s been in for years aching deep and raw. “The simple answer is I’m exhausted, Hotch,” he replies, voice thick and eyes droopy. “I’m mentally and physically exhausted and I’m sad, and lonely, and afraid and I feel like I’ll never be happy, I feel like an outsider, the odd one out, and I’m done, I just cannot keep going like this, it’s impossible. And this morning I woke up and I just couldn’t will my body to get out of bed. Not caring about the consequences, I turned my alarm off and fell back to sleep.”
He’d looked away during his confession, but when he looks back at Hotch, he sees that his own eyes aren’t the only ones watering. “Spencer,” he starts, but his voice catches and he has to take a moment to compose himself. “Why didn’t you say something? You could have told me, I-- I would have helped you.” Spencer’s seriously taken aback by the scene in front of him: Hotch is crouched on his bedroom floor, looking genuinely destroyed because of some stupid emotions he’s been feeling?
“No, no. This is my own battle, I don’t deserve your help,” Spencer refutes, defeated. He sinks lower into the comfort of his mattress. “You don’t really want to help me anyway, I’m just a member of the team and you know you can’t have me lacking. I’m an obligation.” He spits the last word out as he closes his eyes against the emotional pain twisting harshly in his stomach.
“Spencer, that’s not how it is at all,” Hotch replies gently. “First and foremost, you’re my friend, and I’d do anything for you, especially anything to help and protect you. That’s how the entire team sees you--”
“You don’t have to lie,” Spencer cuts him off. “I know I’m irritating and the only reason I haven’t been booted off yet is my ability to read quickly and remember important facts. Except that’s the reason you guys resent me: I’m annoying, I go off on tangents, and I’m too clever for my own good. Too socially awkward to fit in, I know it.”
“Spence, is this about what happened last week?” Hotch ventures carefully, and Spencer flinches. “I’ve been meaning to apologise for that all week but there was no good moment, and truthfully I was ashamed. It was an inexcusable way to treat you and handle the situation, I’m so very sorry. I know that it probably made you feel small and scolded, like an outcast, exacerbating those feelings, but that wasn’t my intention, you have to realise that. I was tired, I’d been up all night with Jack who had the stomach flu, and with how time-sensitive the case was combined with the pressure coming from above, I was stressed and on edge. It wasn’t your fault, I’m the one in the wrong here.”
That makes him look up, searching Hotch’s face for signs of insincerity. “You were right though,” he denies, but his voice is weaker, wavering. “Besides, it wasn’t just you, it was everybody.”
“I’m sure that they’d feel awful if they knew how they made you feel, but nobody on this team would ever want to make you sad or feel left out, and they certainly wouldn’t want you to feel ashamed of who you are, or your incredible talents,” Hotch responds, firm and insistent. He reaches out to take Spencer’s hand. “You are so deeply loved by all of us, Spence, I wish you’d believe that.”
He looks away at that, fiddling with the fabric of the duvet cover. “Really?” he asks, hopefully. He finds it hard to believe, but Hotch looks so sincere and his voice sounds truthful. Plus, Hotch doesn’t make a habit out of lying.
“Really,” he confirms, with that small, fond smile that only graces his face on rare occasions and makes Spencer’s insides fuzzy. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to fetch us some dinner and we’ll eat it together on the couch, and then tomorrow I’m going to make a doctors’ appointment for you, okay? I know that that incident last week might have triggered this, but clearly, there are some serious underlying concerns if it was able to impact you so severely and it would make me feel better to know that you’d seen a medical professional, alright?”
“Okay,” Spencer nods, smiling back at the warmth in Hotch’s eyes.
Hotch dashes out to pick up a sharing platter with an excessive amount of sides from a Lebanese restaurant Spencer had mentioned he loved ages ago and helps him out to the sofa in his cosy apartment when he gets back. He wraps him up in the fluffy blanket he keeps on the arm of the sofa and hands him a plate filled with delicious food. His actions are almost loving, Spencer thinks as Hotch flicks the TV on to the history channel, knowing that it’s the only thing he’ll really watch, but he quickly quells those thoughts. Hoping is pointless.
“Is that alright, Spencer?” he asks softly, as he sits on the opposite end of the sofa and begins to tuck into his similarly loaded plate of food.
“Perfect,” Spencer smiles, feeling safe and content for the first time in weeks. Having Hotch so close to him feels like a tether to the rest of the world, a grounding force stopping him from floating away.
“Good.”
They watch the TV quietly, appreciating each others’ presence in a soft, familiar kind of way. It’s halfway through the program they’re watching about industrialisation when their plates are empty and resting on the coffee table that Spencer speaks up. “Did you know that the progression of technology really isn’t as linear as we might expect? Ancient civilisations simply invented the technology they needed; they weren’t necessarily primitive just because they didn’t have something that we now deem as essential. The Inca, for example, did have wheels, but they used them for short distances, not for long-distance transportation because of their mountainous terrain. Instead, they had complex road systems that they navigated with pack animals and they built suspension bridges long before Europeans because it was the technology they required. Egyptians never even bothered with the wheel, because their terrain was full of sand; instead, they were excellent at building boats. Technology is invented, lost, invented again all over the world.”
He blushes a little when he finishes his explanation, and looks over at Hotch properly, surprised at the expression on his face. “You’re brilliant, you know that Spencer?” he says fondly, looking genuinely in awe of the man in front of him.
“No,” Spencer tries to dismiss him, “I’m really not, it’s just what I was bor--”
He’s abruptly cut off when Hotch surges forward, crossing the small amount of distance between them on the sofa quickly, capturing his surprised, parted lips with his own. Hotch brings his hand up to rest firmly on Spencer’s jaw, caressing his thumb gently across his cheekbone as he kisses Spencer with a fervent passion he’s never experienced anyone feel for him before.
Spencer’s wide eyes meet Hotch’s melting ones as they pull gently away. “I mean it,” Hotch says softly, running his thumb over Spencer’s bottom lip. “You’re incredible, and I can’t get enough of you.” He presses another chaste kiss to his lips as if to prove he means what he says.
“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, Hotch, you have no idea,” Spencer says breathily, staring up at him in awe as he tries to appear more put together than his mushy insides will allow.
“Me too,” he laughs softly, warming Spencer’s heart even more. “But if this is going to work, you’re going to have to stop calling me Hotch.”
“Deal,” Spencer giggles, pushing away his blanket in favour of straddling his legs and pressing another loving kiss to his lips. “Aaron.”
“God, I love the way my name sounds dripping from those lips,” he groans, gripping his waist gently, rubbing his thumbs over his stomach as he leans up to kiss Spencer again.
They kiss quietly on the sofa with the history channel playing in the background for a while, losing track of time as they melt into one another. Eventually, though, Spencer gets tired, shifting off Aaron’s lap to sit next to him, resting his head on his chest. Aaron gets the hint and wraps a protective arm around his waist, pulling him as close as possible. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough time, Spencer,” he whispers into his hair. “As long as you want me here, though, I promise I’ll do everything I can to prevent you from feeling like that again.”
“I know,” Spencer whispers back, drawing comfort from the musk of Aaron’s cologne and the subtle scent of sweat lingering behind it. “Just being like this makes me feel safe, though. Less alone.”
“I’m glad, sweetheart.”
Spencer nearly squeaks at that, face flushing dark red. “Sweetheart?” he asks, embarrassed.
“Do you not like it? I’m sorry Spencer, I don’t have to call you anything other than your name.”
“No, no,” he rushes to clarify. “I like it, I really do, you just surprised me, is all.”
“Good,” Aaron says, and Spencer can hear the fond smile in his voice.
“Will you,” Spencer starts shyly, before clearing his throat. “Will you stay tonight? I don’t want you to go, I want the company.”
“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you need,” he says comfortingly, rubbing his hand gently across the span of his tummy.
It’s the best Spencer’s slept in months probably, wrapped up safely in Aaron’s arms. The bed is warm and toasty and he feels genuinely Not Alone, like he has someone in his corner. A night of comfortable and unbroken sleep is exactly what he needs and it’s what Aaron’s comforting presence and protective embrace gives him.
Luckily the FBI’s health insurance gets him the therapy he needs and some anti-anxiety medication which together slowly starts to improve his self-esteem and perception of those around him. Aaron’s steady support doesn’t hurt either, always there to give him a cuddle and remind him of all the good in him and others, how loved he is and how he’ll never have to be alone again, not if he doesn’t want to be.
Gradually, Spencer realises that the looks JJ and Emily shoot one another are fond; they both love his little tangents and are fondly amused by them. Spencer had never noticed the smile on his face when Derek rolls his eyes, simply teasing him in the same way he does when he ruffles his hair and calls him ‘pretty boy’ on the way to the kitchen. His entire perception of how others saw him had been completely skewed by his mind, and he was slowly unlearning those immediate assumptions.
And if it ever did go too far, he had Aaron to glare at the offending party, and squeeze his hand comfortingly under the table, giving him a cuddle and holding him protectively as soon as they were in private.
Coincidentally, it’s exactly that ritual that gets them figured out a few months later. A local police officer had been pretty awful to him when Spencer was simply trying to explain how they’d come to a certain conclusion about an aspect of an unsub’s profile. Aaron takes Spencer with him to grab some lunch for the team and as soon as they get out of the SUV and step into the parking lot of the local sandwich shop, he pulls him close and tells him how much he loves him.
They do not see Derek and Emily coming out of the shop with bags of food in their hands having had the same idea as them, mouths open until they pull away and it is much too late. Their sworn secrecy does not last long, not that they’d really expected it to, and soon the entire team is in a perpetual state of teasing. Spencer sort of loves it, though, and Aaron will put up with the type of intrusion into his private life that he usually resents if it makes Spencer smile as wide as it does when Derek or JJ make an off-handed comment about how gone for him Aaron is.
Slowly, Spencer feels that empty pit of loneliness fill back up, the aching sadness eases when he has so many hands willing to help him carry the burden. The happy ending he’d been craving for so long, the ending he’d written off as unattainable and stupid to wish for, he finally had in his hands, and he wasn’t about to let it go anytime soon.
Yes, Emily and Alex were never officially in a season together but shhh I’m writing I can do what I want.
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turtletimewriting · 4 years
Note
That’s chill! How about Janus x Virgil then?
AW HELLS YEAH! I can answer this! I was literally looking at fanart for anxceit earlier today!
1. Who has the cutest tickle laugh?
Janus does. But for a very specific reason. Janus ends up tickle attacking Virgil almost every single day without fail. At the very least. And he always acts so uppity and sassy over tickling the snot out of Virgil. So any revenge is incredible. After all those sarcastic quips and mocking evil cackles, hearing genuine desperate loud laughter is always special. There’s something magical about seeing that evil confident façade melt away to a little blushing lee squealing in tickles. 
2. Who is ticklish in unusual places and where would that be?
This is, again, very specific but Virgil has a quite ticklish scalp. They both discovered this when Virgil was trying to seem tough and just as evil as Janus so he answered the door with his spider on his head. Janus then starts talking about self care and how to manage anxiety, y’know genuinely important stuff. But Virgil spent the entire time biting down on gasps and wobbly giggles. It was weeks later when Virgil finally explained why he was weird during that conversation and Janus never let him live it down. 
3. Who gets cheer-up tickles?
Virgil does! Whenever he looks down and mopey. Whenever Janus knows he’s got a lot on his plate. Whenever Thomas is feeling really anxious. Whenever he looks completely neutral. Whenever Virgil is running away squealing that he doesn’t need tickles. Oh Virgil stopped smiling for a single second, that sounds like someone needs some emergency tickles. 
4. Who takes advantage of the other one getting their arms stuck while taking off their shirt?
Virgil absolutely takes advantage. Virgil cannot get up in the morning and he absolutely drags Janus down with him. Janus will wake up and see Virgil curled up in the stupid little ball on his chest like the dumb boyfriend he is who totally isn’t cute enough to get away with that. He grumbles and gets really close to shoving Virgil off him but then his dumb boyfriend will do something stupid like curl up closer or cling on to his pjs. Something stupid and dumb so Janus will end up falling asleep again. Surprisingly that means Janus is the one to wake up last. And for some reason Janus is practically still asleep if he sleeps in late and wakes up later than expected. Janus will actually get stuck in his shirt. He will stand there being tickled and he will only swing gently side to side in response. Of course Virgil is going to make the most of it. Also he is completely aware of this and sees this as a great plan to weaken his boyfriend. 
5. How did they discover each other’s ticklishness?
Oh my god, I feel like all of these are suuuuuper specific but hey! I’m on a roll! Janus discovered Virgil was ticklish through an argument they had actually. They were having a lover’s tiff, a really silly argument but they were both still somehow getting heated about it. Virgil, too frustrated to think straight, goes to crawl under their bed to stop having this conversation. But he is a fully grown man of course. He instantly gets stuck under the bed. Janus is also frustrated too but seeing Virgil’s butt poking out from the bed as his bare feet kick around the carpet as if that would help him is enough to erase all anger from the world. He jokingly tickles his feet while asking if Virgil would like some help. Virgil instantly yelps and starts thrashing faster but he is thoroughly stuck. Janus ends up having a delightful conversation about the argument to a Virgil who is totally able to respond and isn’t crying with tickly laughter. 
Janus’ ticklishness was discovered soon after the daily Virgil tickle attacks started. He woke up one morning to Virgil sitting on his hips with feather dusters, hair brushes, metal claws and baby lotion. He immediately tried to sit up only to notice his hands had been tied to the bed posts. “There is no way I’m just going to sit back and take all your stupid attacks!”
“... attacks? You can’t even say what kind of attacks? Can’t you say the word?”
“...sHUT UP!”
“Sure, this will doing the talking for me,” Janus taunts as he summons his other sets of arms and starts tickling the poop out of Virgil. It takes awhile but Janus’ ticklishness is eventually discovered once Virgil finally gets a hold of himself.
6. Who can’t take tickle bites?
Janus. It’s the one form of tickling that he just can’t handle when done right. To make it worse though, they eventually noticed that because it requires Virgil to literally bury his face into Janus then his eye shadow gets smudged wherever he gives some tickly bites. So they can always track exactly where Virgil tickled him. Afterwards, he’ll poke the trail of eye shadow and ask which tickle bite tickled more. Janus absolutely hates this game as much as he loves it.
7. Who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning?
Virgil, of course. He’s a SLEEPY boy! He’s gotta get all his snoozes. But Janus is just an absolute dick of a boyfriend and will torture him to get up in the morning. In those mornings when Virgil’s tries to be all cute curled up, Janus is not above drilling into his belly or even fluttering around his navel. His best technique to getting Virgil awake is using all his arms to pin him in that curled up ball on his chest while tickling him to pieces. Then after the morning wake up call, Janus will kiss his forehead and snuggle up to him tighter. Waking him up with tickles doesn’t always mean leaving the warm snuggly bed. 
8. Who gives up in a tickle fight?
Janus. He is so easily flustered that it’s ridiculous. After all the tickle attacks and self proclaimed tickle titles, he just can’t handle what he dishes out. The world’s most ticklish tickle monster. After a few teases and especially some gentle fluttering tickles around his scaley tummy and he’s fallen to the ground hissing some pathetic begs. And Virgil has never felt more power than when he deliberately starts a tickle fight, because he knows that no matter what he will win. Plus also maybe he also kinda enjoys seeing his boyfriend all giggly and blushing but whatever...
9. Who is in danger of getting hurt when attacking the other?
Neither I feel like. Virgil just kinda wiggles or pathetically curls into a protective ball that never ever protects him. Janus knows that if he gets too flaily then Virgil has too much self preservation and will let himself be pushed to the side. So neither, tickling is always just some good plain fun! Even when tickled attacked during his daily attacks, Virgil will at most lightly pat against Janus’ back. 
10. Who always provokes the other into tickling them and how?
Against how much he is the ultimate tickle monster, Janus is the one to get embarrassed over wanting tickles and will provoke rather than ask. He’d rather be struck with lightning than ask for something so stupid from his loving caring boyfriend who enjoys tickling people. But he provokes through being bratty. Constant quips and sarcasm and a few name calling all helps provoke Virgil. The downside is that he is so sarcastic that it’s hard to know when he’s being extra sarcastic. Thankfully, Virgil has figured out that Janus only ever calls him ‘doofus’ when he really wants tickles. Janus doesn’t normally say doofus. He’s too posh to ever consider such a stupid sounding word. But when he’s in a lee mood, his brain has melted away into nothing but ‘weee tickles go brrr’. So words like doofus and stupid nugget came out to play. Whenever Virgil hears these names too, he instantly freezes and turns towards Janus silently with a frozen look. And it completely freaks and flusters Janus out instantly. 
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therookieking412 · 4 years
Note
Do you still want writing prompts? If so, heres one - knights at the round table/ King Arthur
There was, of course, no question about it. 
She wanted to be a Knight, just like her father before her. 
He was strong, and brave and sat at King Author’s round table, and he promised her that he would take her when she was older. 
It was a promise she kept close to her heart. 
She remembered, the day he left, and kissed her mother good-bye, and the day the oxen came, with a flat cart where Sir Lohengrin laid, wrapped in burial cloth. 
It was bitterly cold, and she held her mother’s hand - her husband’s shield in the other - as King Siegfried himself told Lady Gardenia that she was welcome in his courts whenever she wished. 
Ahiru remembered pulling away from her mother’s grasp, and watching her reflection ripple on the unfrozen pond. It took all her heart not to give up hope, but she knew it was what her father wanted, for her to chase her dreams. 
She lived on the farm, feeding chickens and oxen, riding her horse and doing everything she could to train to one day be a knight, and take her father’s place at the round table. 
That was her plan, until Excalibur was stolen. 
Until he came. 
Ahiru wanted to go, to find the sword and return it to the king and she could finally prove herself, but her mother disapproved almost.
“No, Ahiru, you’ll stay here, where your safe.” Lady Gardenia touched her cheek, and smiled sadly, it was her way of telling Ahiru she couldn’t afford to lose another.
But then, Lord Drosselmeyer came and didn’t give her a choice. 
He came with magic and an army of rogues, he took her mother and she escaped, but not before she saw the monster. 
It appeared to be a giant black bird, descending from the sky. 
“Well, where is it? Where is my present?”
Even as Ahiru hid beneath the bridge they walked upon, she could see his curling grin, his eyes widening with glee.
She wondered if that’s how he looked when he murdered her father.
“I was attacked, Lord,” The bird said, his voice a low gravel, like the earth itself was speaking. “By a crow-”
“A crow?” She could see it too, the grin falling, but his teeth bared. 
“And I dropped the sword into the forbid forest.” No, not the earth, like a powerful wind blasting through skeletal leaves and bare branches.
“My magnificent creature was foiled by a pesky black bird.”
“A crow, my Lord, you must know of their intelligence-”
“This is something you will pay for.” Anger leeched into his voice, and she wondered if his eyebrows came down before his eyes. “Where is it?”
“It fell in the forbidden forest, lord.” The thick sound of a raspy voice, an old man on the verge of death was the monster’s voice. 
“Fool! How will- nevermind. Gather the men, if I can even call them that now, we shall make our way to the forbidden forest.”
Ahiru left her eyes widen, realizing for the first time that they would go after it. 
The whispered words of her mother filled her ear, go to Camelot, to King Siegfried and warn him! Go, Ahiru, now!
But she couldn’t, she had to get the sword before they did, or else. 
She stole her horse and galloped away, she heard them yelling and knew they weren’t far behind her as she lead her steed to the forbidden forest. 
She was thrown off, and while it hurt she couldn’t stop, not with two goons after her, she ran through the forest, her bright hair acting like a beacon, but she fell into a pond and there was a man there. 
With the help of a crow he beat the goons and walked away.
“Wait!” She called out, chasing after him. “Thank you, for saving me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh, well thanks anyways.”
He kept walking, but she chased after him, surely he knew his way around the forest, perhaps he had even seen Excalibur falling...
“My name’s Ahiru, what’s yours?”
“Fakir, now stop following me.”
He had to help! If he only knew what had happened...
“Why won’t you look at me when I’m talking to you? That’s very rude, don’t you know?”
“I’m blind.” Fakir said, walking along, the black crow sitting on his shoulder. 
“Well, Excalibur was stolen! We have to find it!”
“We?”
“Yes! I heard that it was dropped in the forest somewhere, and you must know it pretty well! So if we work together-” 
“I stand alone.”
“Okay, but-”
“If Excalibur if here, we’ll find it, right?” He shrugged one shoulder, and the crow cawed. 
“Well, I’ll go with you!” 
No matter what Fakir said, he couldn’t shake her, besides, how far could a blind man get? 
They moved through the forest, Fakir seemed to know where he was going, but Ahiru felt lost, and she was sure they were going the wrong way when they entered dragon country. 
The air was warmer, and sky was yellow and there was a smell in the air that wouldn’t leave her nose...
The oeace didn’t last long, and soon dragons were flying overhead, but not before he dragged her into a hiding place after the crow cawed. 
“We should be safe here.” He said. “Do you see any-”
“Dragons!” Ahiru shouted, pointing across them there were two, lurking behind a broken egg much in the same way they were.
“Dragons! Where!” One voice called, sharp and shrill. “Have they come to eat us at last! Oh No!”
“Can it, or they’ll find us!” Said the other, but suddenly Ahiru was face to face with a two headed dragon. 
“Don’t eat us! Please!” The shrill one cried, but the other rolled her eyes.
“It’s just two humans, and a stupid bird.”
The crow cawed.
“Humans?” 
It was a stout little dragon, with pale blue scales and green tummy, the shrill one had a long neck and two horns that curled out from the side of her head. “I’m Lillie.” And the other had a short neck, and one single horn protruding from the top. “And you can call me Pique.” 
“We should get going,” Fakir said, “We should stay here long-”
“There they are!”
Ahiru turned and suddenly, like a nightmare, there was Drosselmeyer and his band of marauders.
They started to run, but Pique and Lillie pulled them down a dark tunnel that let out in a cave, and as they walked towards the light they were released from dragon country. 
It was getting dark and they agreed to rest.
Except for Ahiru.
“No! We can’t! If my father were here, he’d-”
“He’d tell you to rest to.” Fakir said, who had suggested take a break, who was the one she had to fight with.
Lillie and Pique were trying to start a fire behind her with little success as all the twigs possessed the ability to get up and run away. 
“My father was a knight of the round table and he knew better than to just stop when-”
“Who was your father.”
“Hmm?” Ahiru looked at Fakir, he was facing the setting sun, and she wondered if he knew that, if he could feel it’s warmth on his face even if he couldn’t see it’s beauty. “Oh- my- my father was Sir Lohengrin.”
Fakir nodded, his hands resting on his staff. “He talked about you.”
She looked at him now, her heart quaked. He knew her father? 
“I was a stable boy, in Camelot, I took care of horses and the like, but one night there was a fire, I did my best to free the horses, but they were so frightened,” He paused and she looked into his cloudy eyes, seeing that at one point they could have possibly been green. “When I woke up, my eyesight was gone. I had given up on myself, but your father hadn’t. He trained me, even though I couldn’t see. He was my only chance of becoming a knight.”
“He was my only chance, too.”
“Come with me.”
Fakir lead her between the trees to a place where living plants grew ten feet tall, he prodded it until it unfurled. “You wait until the last possible moment, and then you strike.” The plant swayed before shooting out at it’s adversary, Fakir stayed until the crow cawed, and then he stepped to the side, and hit it. 
“Now you.”
He handed her his staff, she poked the bud, but she attacked to soon, the vine hit her stomach and sent her flying back into his arms.
“You moved to soon.” He smirked, but there wasn’t a trace of mockery or rudeness.    
There was something in his eyes, something she couldn’t see, but then he convinced her to rest. 
“We’re getting close.” Fakir said, although Ahiru wasn’t sure how he knew that. 
The crow cawed, however, as they moved closer to a forest of brambles as tall as oaks, her mouth fell up, her eyes on the tallest needle point, but she tripped and fell.
“Woah, be careful.” Fakir said, pulling her back up.
“A giant!” The two-headed dragon said, but while Lillie said it full of glee, Pique said it with a hint of exasperation. 
“A giant? Does a giant have it?” Ahiru asked, never once considering them to be real. Even as she talked to a two-headed dragon. 
“There’s only one way to find out.” Fakir forged ahead, entering the brambles, he crotched before a foot print, running the tips of his fingers over it.
 Ahiru spoke, they should hurry, they shouldn’t be wasted time, but Fakir hushed her, and she thought they were beyond point, but he hushed her again, begging her to be-
“There they are!” 
Something flew past her, but she could only watching as Drosselmeyer came running in, she heard Fakir groan, and then she realized that they were being attacked. 
But so did the brambles around them.
The creatures opened their eyes and attacked the intruders, allowing Ahiru to hoist Fakir up onto her shoulder and allowing them to escape.
They found a cave, and Ahiru couldn’t think or see as tears streamed down her face, but Fakir comforted her. 
His hand on her cheek, he asked her to describe the sky, to describe the stars, and he smiled at her. 
She leaned over him, holding his hand, the crow placed a purple leaf on his bleeding side and it healed in a blinding light. 
His hand was on the back of her neck. 
“I’m fine.”
“I’m so glad!” She smiled, and his thumb wiped away her tears.
They tried the giant again the next day, they entered his lair, and found him relaxing, he was using Excalibur like a toothpick. 
They waited until the giant fell asleep for a nap, and Ahiru was lowered down, her ankles in Fakir’s hands, and his own in the hands of Lillie and Pique.
“Hurry up!” Pique called. 
“Oh, if only we could fly! Then we could go down and get it ourselves!” Lillie bemoaned. 
“Shh!” Fakir called. 
But Ahiru grabbed it, they made a mad dash, but then she heard Drosselmeyer, like a never ending nightmare, he was across the ravine, shouting at his men to go after her, but he had woken the giant.
“We’ve got it! We’ve got it!” Ahiru shouted running as fast as she could, the sword and scabbard in her hands, she circled back to Fakir, and took his hand, “We can return it, together.”
He gave her a half-hearted smile. 
They walked to the very edge of the forest, and there it was. 
Camelot. 
And Fakir left her. 
Ahiru did her best not to cry, finally seeing a clear blue sky for the first time in days. He had made his choice, and he didn’t choose her. 
It didn’t mean anything. 
Perhaps she could go back, make him come! Make him see that-
but then, a hand was around her arm, and Excalibur was ripped from her grasp, she watched in horror as Drosselmeyer attached the sword to his hand. 
A permanent fixation that made her stomach flop. 
She was thrown in the back of a carriage with her mother. 
Drosselmeyer came and told them, Lady Gardenia would lead them into the city, and if she refused, Ahiru would die. 
Ahiru was gagged, her wrists bound, she wiggled and writhed, and listened as they opened the gates for Lady Gardenia, to alert the King. 
Ahiru found a rusty nail that stuck out of the wood, and with her hands behind her back, she started sawing at the ropes, and as soon as she was free she pulled the gag from her mouth and leapt out of the wagon. 
“IT’S A TRAP!”
The world was pandemonium as Drosselmeyer revealed himself and so did his band, surrounding those who walked through the courtyard. 
Ahiru lead her mother to safety, but she had to get inside and warn King Siegfried. 
What she didn’t expect was Fakir to suddenly appear, with Lillie and Pique flying at his side.
“You’re flying!” Ahiru said in disbelief. 
“Yes, we’re frequent fliers now!” Lillie said proudly. 
“Come on, I know a way inside.” Fakir took Ahiru’s hand.
He lead her to a secret passageway that ran under the castle, Sir Lohengrin had showed him, and they come out in a large room, the room that held the round table.
Ahiru gasped when she saw Drosselmeyer leering over King Siegfried, he was already injured, his arm in a sling, as he crawled away from Drosselmeyer and his own sword. 
The roof had been burst open, presumably from when the monstrous raven tried to steal Excalibur, and so wood tied to pully systems that would lift it up to where it needed to be placed laid all around her.
“Drosselmeyer!” She called, and he turned his crazed gaze on her, allowing Siegfried to get away. “I will not serve a false king!” 
She’s not sure how she did it, but she pushed off, holding onto the rope, and for a moment she was flying, soaring through the air, and she thought her father would be proud of her.
The plank hit Drosselmeyer’s chest and sent him soaring through the window, and Ahiru stumbled after him, falling to the grass and standing as quickly as she could, mist covered the sky and grew thicker.
He was taunting her, she knew that much, but she couldn’t think about that as she hid, playing cat and mouse, and she was waiting for him to spring the trap.
She ducked the sword, and landed in front of the stone. 
The stone that harbored the sword until the true king came. 
Fakir was behind her, defending her while she sat transfixed to the glowing stone. 
He pulled her to her feet and they moved until their backs hit the stone. 
“Wait for the last possible second.” Fakir whispered.
Ahiru nodded, Drosselmeyer couldn’t hear above the noise of his own prattle. 
He raised his sword, “Two for the price of one!” Ahiru watched the sword coming closer, she could see her breath fog the blade before Fakir pushed her to the floor and the sword sunk into the stone. 
She watched in horror as Drosselmeyer screamed, thinking he would be stuck for forever, but something worse happened. 
He turned to dust, and his spell was broken.
Ahiru wore the white dress her mother made her, her long hair out of it’s braid as she and Fakir were knighted with the sword they recovered. Her mother smiled, Lillie and Pique wept tears of joy, and Ahiru watched the crow on the King’s shoulder transform into a young woman in wizards robes, she smiled at Ahiru, too.  
Ahiru danced with Fakir the entire night, her eyes never left his face, and his hand never left her waist. 
“Isn’t this everything you ever wanted?” She asked him. 
“Not quite.” He said, and before she could pout and fight him, he kissed her. 
They left the place, seeking their next adventure, but finally, finally she was a knight of the round table. Just like her father. 
15 notes · View notes
inforapound · 5 years
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Emboîté Part 6
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A/N - This is the final chapter. It’s a bit of a ride. As @youbloodymadgenius doesn’t love angst, I softened it with sickly sweet suckie fluff. I do have an epilogue in mind which I may or may not write. We’ll see. 
Pairing – Ivar and Sarah     (Aethelswith)
Words – 3,900 approx
We fell in love, blinding love, totally consumed by the other. Dance was the single and only part of my life that prevented me from being swallowed entirely by Ivar’s passion. I was his obsession and I loved it. Within a month we spent every moment outside of rehearsals and weekend performances together and when the seasonal break came, I taught ballet and we were glued at the hip for the rest of the time. Exploring the city like visitors, going to movies, countless suppers out, being that couple who couldn't sit without tangling in each other’s arms on the same side of the table.
Mornings, evenings, stolen moments in the day were spent making love. Our bodies moving as if in some race to absorb the other. Within a few months, there wasn’t a part of me, not an inch, not a speck of flesh, he hadn’t claimed and worshipped. Not a single thing two bodies could possibly do, that we hadn’t. His hands on my skin, my face, my tummy, everywhere, felt as familiar as my own. Always, always the moment he pushed inside me, his words of devotion would flow, how beautiful I was, how perfect I felt around him, how much he needed me, how lucky he was to have me, that I was his baby, his woman, his princess. It was fiercely intense and dangerously addictive without a moment to catch my breath. His relentless lips inhaling me, tasting me, gulping up every whimper and cry of his name.
Within half a year our bodies new the other so intimately, our love making could stretch hours or just a minute if that’s all that time would allow. Never parting without him reminding me that he was mine and I was his and that we fit together. It was true, we did. Was it healthy? Probably not but I didn’t care. He was unlike anyone I could have dreamt of. Not an easy man but a remarkable one. A man of extremes and complexities with an immense ability to feel. His brilliance and passion as vast and powerful as his fear of being without me. There was a pain inside him, it had been there long before me but somehow, he felt it less when we were together.
His moods, oh my god. They were overwhelming with his immediate reaction always being hurt or rejection. Our fights at times were brutal. Arguments that would start the same way each time with my desire to return home for a night or two. Heading back into season, I wanted to rest and refocus, get used to waking up in my own space in anticipation of the opening season.
Without fail, it would catapult him into a tailspin of anger, even despair. He refused to understand my desire for space or time alone, particularly after the man had purchased me everything I could ever want to keep at his place. Pajamas, clothing, toiletries, goddamn matching sweatsuits to his.
In truth, I didn’t really want to be away from but I felt I should. Should as an exercise in maintaining some shred of independence.
Opening night at the theatre was just over a month away and we were already fighting about my upcoming rehearsal schedule.
On those nights when I would simply walk out, leaving him to sit alone in the dark and brood or smash something against his concrete floors, I still lay awake on my crummy pull out couch and ache for him. Sometimes even cry for him. My body feeling adrift without his arm over me or his chest against my back anchoring me down. I’d wake in the morning to sometimes a dozen texts, the last few always sounding defeated. Was I like a drug to him? Possibly.
When I would return, he’d just embrace me, not allowing me to sit anywhere but in his lap, the hurt immediately forgotten. Always making me laugh by being a dork, doing something stupid like shoving his head up my shirt, pretending he was lost or someone had turned out the lights.
Ivar Lothbrok was the love of my life. My partner and my very best friend and I couldn’t imagine life without him. And one day, in an instant, with a single phone call, everything changed.
----
“Hello.”
“Sarah!” Wynne’s urgent tone pulled me from the haze of sleep. Ivar’s heavy arm over my side.
“Wake up.”
“I’m awake.” Pushing down on the mattress, I forced myself up, leaning back against the headboard. Scooting toward me, Ivar again draped his arm across my outstretched legs. “What’s up?” I asked knowing by her rushed voice that this was not a call about scheduling.
“It’s Giovanna. She’s been tapped.”
“What?” my eyes shot wide. “Seriously?”
“Yes, Paris baby. And guess what else?”
“What?”
“You’re up girl. You’re in. You got lead. Board decided this morning. This is your official call.”
Mouth gaping, I couldn’t say a word.
“Sarah! You’re our new principal starting opening night. 4 weeks today.”
“Oh my god,” I replied in a whisper, looking down to Ivar’s face, half-buried in his soft pillow. As if feeling my eyes on him, his armed squeezed my legs.  
“Right!?”
“Wow.”
“Yep, get in here so we can talk about your contract. Practice for you starts, like now.”
“Yeah, okay. Oh my god. Ok. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Dropping my phone onto the duvet, I exhaled loudly, closing my eyes. The thoughts were entering my brains so quickly, I felt as if I couldn’t hold on to a single one of them. I needed to get to the theatre.  
“Ivar, I’m dancing lead.”
Looking up, he withdrew his arm, turning onto his side.
“I gathered, congratulations.”
“Giovanna…. she’s going. I learned so much from her. Now, I have to be her?”
“No, baby, be you. You’ve earned this. We should celebrate,” shifting closer, he lifted his head, extending his arms and yanked me by the waist down beside him.
“No,” I smiled, pushing meekly on his chest as he leaned in kissing the side of my face. “They are expecting me.”
“I’m expecting you,” he smirked rolling onto his back, heaving me over to straddle his waist.
“Come on. Let me just slip it in really quick before you go.”
“Ivar! Really romantic,” I laughed, looking down, pushing my legs further apart as his hands slid up my thighs, grabbing my hips and grinding up against me.
“I’ll make it the most romantic 3 minutes of your life.”
“Okay,” I laughed again, pulling off my camisole, bending down to get my morning kiss.  
----
The first week, I rehearsed full days often staying into the evening. Declining Ivar’s offers of picking me up or bringing me supper at the theatre. Hyper focussed, I did not want any interruption or distraction, not a single break in the pace I had set. At first, Ivar was understanding but within days, I could sense his hurt.
When I would arrive to his place late in the evening, he would go through the motions of being the supportive boyfriend, rubbing my feet, offering food, a hot bath but I could feel the resentment. His love making was needier, demanding, even pushy.  Or, perhaps, I was beginning to detach. My mind, previously filled with thoughts of him and us, was consumed with preparation and the expectations of the following day’s practice. That and my body needed sleep, terribly. Not two hours of sex when I was already facing a short night with an early morning start.
Around and around we went the first week, the more I withdrew, the more desperate he became for my affection. Constantly needing reassurance. By the second week, I just couldn’t return to his place after rehearsal. I walked into my apartment, looking around as if I had never lived there. Texting him that night, I lied. My first ever lie to him. To my best friend and the love of my life. Said there was a problem with the water lines and the building manager had called. Explained that since I was already there, I was just going to head to bed.
The following night, I again returned to my apartment, and the night after that, my excuses sounding weaker and weaker and his frustration only growing. I started leaving out the back door of the theatre like some woman in hiding avoiding her abuser who may or may not be waiting in an SUV out front. My Poor Ivar. His only crime was loving me fiercely, compulsively. But I just couldn’t deal with it.
He called and called and texted. I began hitting the DECLINE button as I had no idea what to say and no extra energy to diffuse his upset. I was exhausted and it was make or break time. Do or die. I didn’t want us to be over. Not at all. Hitting that red ignore button on my phone was me wanting a pause. A pause on us - our relationship until after opening night, after the first couple of weeks when I had proven myself worthy of replacing Giovanna and beating out Nicole the other second.  New steps, a new role, the pressure of representing the theatre, not to mention, the ticking clock counting down the dwindling timeline for my career. My life! Twenty-two years of ballet and in a matter of weeks, it would all be put to the test.
Ivar was an intelligent man, he loved me and wanted me to succeed but he had never known hunger. Couldn’t possibly understand what it was like to be a woman fighting in a world filled with talent for a chance. With no money, no family to fall back on. His circumstance and mine weren’t his fault but in the back of my mind, I worried his need for me overpowered his ability to support my success.
The truth was I loved him. I wanted to spend my life with him, but I couldn’t deal with him now. After two weeks of this cat and mouse game, a switch flipped, and I stopped all communication. No more excuses. Nothing.
Asleep one night on my pull-out couch in my studio apartment, a knock on my front door woke me at 2am. Like a cold-hearted coward, I froze, laying in my bed, pretending I wasn’t there. The knocking turned into banging and I literally pulled the covers up and cried. Cried because I needed him to leave me alone. The noise stopped and at some point, he left. When I opened the door in the morning, there was a bouquet of pink tulips thrown on the dirty carpet of the hallway. My poor Ivar. He was hurting and I kept shutting him out.
My phone blew up with texts for days and days, angry and demanding and I deserved it. Every word. How does a person cut another from their life like that? The last I read before turning off my phone was a plea for us to meet at Piccolo's to talk. I couldn’t. It would not be just supper. He would want more, everything, and I would give it to him. I needed to stay away. By the third week, his texts stopped. No more calls or long voicemails.
As much as I kept my mind on the steps, on the music, on my breath, my heart ached for him. Physically hurt as I sensed his rejection and pain. I was torturing him and at the same time, I had to dance like I was as free as a bird.
----
The black SUV should have stood out to me but it didn’t. My mind was on the morning ahead as I raced down the sidewalk at 7am with a paper cup of coffee and my gym bag slung over my shoulder. The door of the vehicle opened, and my steps slowed as I noticed the familiar sight of Ivar’s cane hitting the sidewalk and him stepping out from behind the door. Nearing dropping my coffee, my eyes widened, shocked at how broken he looked. Pained, angry, pale, his blue eyes watery as if he hadn’t seen sleep in days.
My reaction? I glanced at the door of the theatre to calculate whether I could make it inside before he could stop me. Who had I turned into? I wasn’t afraid of him so why was I doing this? Had I subconsciously, or even conscientiously decided that being with him would cost me my career? Like I had cost my mother’s when she was left pregnant.
“Sarah.”
Sounding like a ghost his voice pulled me out of my thoughts, my focus returning to his hardened face.
Sarah?” he repeated again, frustration flaring in his tone. “You can’t be bothered to pick up my calls or even make excuses anymore? I have to come here, and catch you off guard like an insane person? Baby,” he pleaded, his face contorting with emotion, “I, I can’t believe this. Any of this. That you can just drop us.”
“Ivar, I can’t do this right now.” My brows pulled together, and I knew I looked like I was begging.
“You are going to blow me off when I am right in front of you? Sarah! If I’m awake, I‘m missing you. Fuck! I can barely…” looking down, he shook his head, shuffling his cane and I could tell he was working hard at controlling himself.
“I will call you later. Tonight. Ok?”
“But you won't,” he shook his head again,” looking up.
Breaking from his intense glare, I dropped my eyes to the pavement, holding back the wisps of loose hair flying around my face. I didn’t know what to say. I just needed to get inside.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I whispered, stepping forward and heading for the front door.
“Wait,” he cried, and I felt a tug on my gym bag and shoulder. Snapping my head to look, his hand was gripping the side of my bag.
I must have looked panicked as when I pulled away, he quickly let go, sending me tumbling sideways, and down flat on the sidewalk
“Baby!” he yelled, shuffling over me, his hands grabbing trying to pull me up. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Fuck, are you alright? It was an accident. I’m so sorry,” he rushed, looking horrified.
Awkwardly he pulled me up onto my feet, spilled coffee all over the pavement. “Are you okay?” he reached forward and I stepped back, blocking his embrace.
As if I had kicked him in the groin, he gasped at my rejection.
“Baby, I didn’t mean for you to fall.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I know!” I shot back impatiently, straightening my clothes. “I know it was an accident.” Looking back up to his sad eyes. “I have to go.”
“Sarah, are you alright?” a man’s voice came from the theatre door. Turning I saw the guy who did our lighting, standing in the doorway, holding the glass door open.
“Is she alright?” Ivar’s head shot back. “I’m trying to talk to my girlfriend, thanks,”
“Doesn’t look like she wants to talk to you.” He yelled back, matching Ivar’s volume.
“It’s none of your goddamn business.” Ivar barked over my head.
“That’s enough,” I muttered, turning back to the theatre.
“Todd, it's okay. Thank you. It's fine. Really. I’m coming right in.”
Nodding, Todd flashed Ivar a poignant look before letting the door close.
“What kind of fucking name is Todd? Is he some teen lifeguard?”
“Ivar, please,” I kept my voice soft, turning to look at him, embarrassed by the seen we were creating. “Just go. I know it was an accident. Please,” my voice cracked, and tears began to fill my eyes. “I can’t do this right now. I’m….” shaking my head, I felt everything inside me shatter, all the pressure of opening night less than a week away. “I can’t do this Ivar,” I repeated, throwing my hands up frantically, my voice wavering.
Frowning his eyes bore into mine, “Can’t do what? Us?”
“Yeah.” I choked out the word feeling no relief. “I can’t do us…anymore.”
“Baby...” his eye narrowed, his mouth falling open in disbelief, “don’t do this. Please,” slowly he shook his head, uncertainty, fear, devastation in his startling blue eyes. His hands hung heavily at his sides, his fingers twitching like all he wanted was to reach for me and wrap me in his arms.
“I’m sorry Ivar,” I whispered, taking a step back. I had to put him out of this misery. “It’s over.”
His eyes flashed wide with the final blow and I turned toward the theatre, making my way through the front doors without looking back to the man I had felt was my forever.
----
It was time. Opening night. The steps ingrained in my mind as if I had choreographed the ballet myself. I could dance them without music, without cues, in the pitch black, prepared as anyone could be.
Sitting on my chair in a dressing room, I stared into the mirror. My eyes and brows heavily lined, the border of bright lights reflecting in my eyes and I felt...numb. No, not numb, I felt sad. Empty. There was a dull hum inside my head dampening any sense of nervousness or excitement. I glanced at the screen on my phone for the hundredth time in an hour but it was still black. No messages.
Leaning forward, toward the mirror, I inspected my make-up again, turning my head side to side, the harsh rouge on my cheeks stretching up to my temples. I felt ugly. Hideous. Like a monster who could eat her own young. Placing my arms across the table, I lowered my head, resting my forehead on the edge.
A knock on the door startled me and I lifted my head peering into the mirror at the reflection of the door behind.
Wynne poked her head in, “Knock, knock,” her black bob framing her round face. Opening the door wider, she stepped in holding a vase of pink tulips.
“We usually have to wait until the end of the show to get flowers,” I said. 
“Not you miss. Not when you have your own cheerleading section.”
“Hmm?” I squinted, the pressed powder on my face feeling as if it might crack.
“Ivar,” she lifted the vase slightly, frowning as if I should know what she was talking about.
“What?”
“You guys are still not talking? He's in the balcony with his family.”
“What!” I spun in the chair, turning to look at her. “How do you know?”
Entering, she kicked the door closed behind and walked over, placing the glass vase on my make-up table, quickly taking a seat at the next station.
“A group of gorgeous men, two of whom have women with them, and all have the last name Lothbrok.”
“Oh my god. I’ve never even met them.” My eyes shot wide. “Ivar never wanted to because of family tension...” shaking my head, “the oldest two are married. It must be…” my voice fell silent. Saying nothing, I looked down, fiddling with the sheer material of my costume. “Wynne,” I whimpered, “I’ve been so terrible to him.”
“Awe don’t worry. You have all season to make it better.”
“What do you mean?” lifting my chin, I looked back up to her.
“He’s reserved the balcony every Saturday until the new year.”
“What!” 
“Yes, he must be loaded.” She jerked her head toward the huge bouquet. “There’s a card there.”
Reaching for the vase, I spun it, grabbing the white envelope with gold trim tucked inside the rim.
“Shit, do you think I should read it before I go on.”
“Up to you but....yes. You are obviously thinking about him and he’s here so he’s obviously thinking about you.”
Blowing air out between my lips, I tore open the envelope, pulling out the card.
“Stay though, okay? While I read it?”
“Yep.”
Looking down I was hit with a surge of excitement as I saw that the card was completely filled with Ivar’s perfectly symmetrical writing.
Sarah,
I know that I acted horribly and was out of line the other day. I am not sure anyone will ever understand what having you in my life means to me. It’s no excuse though.
I am so proud of you and how hard you have worked to get here. You are such a strong person and I hope you are not upset that I had to come tonight and watch this incredible moment in your life.
I fell for you the second you got into my car that night at the auction. Hopelessly and completely and I acknowledge how smothering and controlling I’ve been since. I have never felt this way before and was terrified that if I loosened my grip, you’d slip away. It left you feeling divided and I know I put you in the position where you felt you couldn’t have it all. I should have been championing you toward your dreams from the start. You deserve everything.
I accept your decision to focus on your dancing and I will support you from afar. I wish I could have been there with you tonight, taking your photo, kissing you good luck before you went on but here we are.
My brother asked why I was so broken and why I was convinced I had to be with you. I know in my heart, in my bones, that it just won't ever be anyone else. What I’m saying is that I love you, Sarah. I love you. I know that I have never said those actual words. God, I should have. A thousand times. They just never felt big enough and I have seen what people do to each other who use them. But I love you.
Lastly, I’m sorry I didn’t know how to do this better.
Enjoy every second of tonight. You will be amazing.
Yours,
Ivar.
Pressing the card to my chest, I slouched against the back of the chair, closing my eyes, willing away the tears.
Emboîté, emboîté, the voice of my first ballet teacher rang through my head. Emboîté, she would call out to us little girls floundering like ducklings across the vast wooden floor.
Turning to Wynne, I smiled, sniffling through my tears. “Do you have a pen, and can you take something to Ivar? Right away?”
----
Dear Ivar,
There are things to talk about but most importantly, I am so incredibly sorry and I love you too. So much. I want us to be together, in fact, I want to move in. Formally move in, if you’ll still have me, of course.
No matter how crazy life gets, let us have the comfort of each other every night and together learn how to do this properly. I will see you after the show and I am so glad you are here. It would not be the same without you.
Yours always,
Sarah
----
When I landed and lifted my head listening to the eruption of applause, I took my bow and for the first time looked into the light. Tipping my face up, I focussed on the balcony and smiled with all my heart at Ivar who, up from his chair, stood staring down, pounding his hands together, clapping. The white envelope was tucked under his arm and his beautiful smile was lit with the brightness of our future.
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Like Father Like Son
This is really just a small, crappy drabble but I saw a lot of Alex Karev fathers day edits today for Alex and the twins and it hurts my heart because Alex deserves to be a father so much but we were robbed of Jolex babies and nothing will ever make it okay.
Jo tried to tiptoe around the room, silently praying Robin wasn't about to erupt into his usual early morning tears as she tried to wrestle him into his new baby grow. It was much harder in the dark but she didn't want to turn on the light in case it woke Alex or made Robin fuss a little more.
"Shhh...little man. Daddy's still sleeping." She whispered quietly as she quickly turned to check that Alex was still soundly asleep in the bed. Robin began gurgling, kicking his legs out in order to get his mother's attention. Two months old and a complete mother's boy. Smiling down at her son Jo finished dressing him tickling his tummy lightly as he blew spit bubbles at her.
"Hey, baby boy shall we go make Daddy some breakfast? Shall we?" Lifting him up she continued to babble away in that stupid baby voice she hated on other mother's. "Yeah, let's go do that."
"Do you know what today is?" Jo mumbles to her baby boy as she bounces down the stairs heading towards the kitchen. "Today my little man is Daddy's first Father's Day. Yes it is and I don't know much about dads but I'm pretty sure you've got the best one."
Robin made tiny gurgling noises while Jo continued to talk to him as if he understood, fussing as he left Jo's arms as she placed him in the new bouncer set up in the kitchen. "I'm sorry little man but Momma's no good in the kitchen with two hands never mind just one." Jo grinned, pulling out her phone to google how to make waffles and wondering how Alex had always made it look so damn easy.
Why didn't I buy ready-made waffles? She wonders ten minutes later running her hand under the tap after burning herself on the waffle iron. "Aw shit." Jo hissed as she knocked over the freshly poured orange juice, turning off the tap still sucking lightly on her burnt finger. Robin's screams filled the air as the glass shattered across the floor. "Oh no baby boy, I'm so sorry." Jo cried slowly manoeuvring her way over the broken glass, unclipping Robin from the bouncer. "I'm so sorry." She whispers, lifting him up peppering kisses over the screaming infant's face, bouncing him until his crying slowly ceased. "Momma is so sorry she scared you, hmmm she was just trying to make daddy's breakfast."
Sighing in defeat Jo looked around the kitchen at all the mess she'd made, the waffle batter that was spread across the kitchen counters, the spilt juice and the broken glass. "Yeah, cooking is not mommas best skill."
"Mhmm, you can say that again." Turning Jo found Alex leaning against the door frame, his signature smirk plastered on his face as he took in the sight in front of him. It annoyed Jo that he seemed to get better looking as time went on, he was standing there in boxers, his hair sticking up in every direction with pillow marks still pressed on his face. It's a wonder they only have one child.
Alex Karev had awoken to find himself alone in a cold bed, reaching out to the empty space where his wife usually lay; he frowned as his eyes adjusted in the dark, turning towards the bedside table Alex flipped on the light, his eyes wincing at the sudden brightness as he scanned the room. Not only was Jo's space vacant but the clip-on crib that was connected to her side of the bed was empty, he'd expect to find her in the rocking chair in the corner or that ensuite but there was no sight of his wife or son.
It wasn't until the faint smell of burning filled the air that he began to panic, jumping up trying to untangle himself from the sheets as he frantically went in search of his family. He almost tripped down the stairs but the panic soon ceased as he reached the bottom step, hearing Jo's voice filter through the air, the sickly baby voice that she'd seemed to have adopted the minute Robin was born and that Alex teased her mercilessly about. "Momma is so sorry she scared you, hmmm she was just trying to make daddy's breakfast."
Ahh so that's where his family had snuck off too, slowly padding down the hallway Alex couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face, Jo was facing away from him, holding Robin against her chest as she swayed slightly cradling his head. The last two months had felt like a lifetime, they were both more sleep-deprived then they had been during their internships. Alex actually thought being an intern might have been easier, it was a lot easier to do a full shift on no sleep during his intern year then it was these days at least now he had interns, residents and a full paediatrics department at his disposal.
Leaning against the doorframe Alex decided to take a few moments to appreciate the sight in front of him before the sun rose fully and the day began. You know how they say blink and you’ll miss it? well Alex finally knows that they mean, every day Robin grows and changes so quickly Alex spends most of his days terrified that he will miss something important.
Still unnoticed by Jo who's swaying Robin softly still chattering away, Alex takes the time to take in his wife's appearance. She looks tired, which is to be expected as a new mother, her hair hadn't been washed in a week and her natural dark curls are overflowing from the bun on top of her head. She was wearing one of Alex's old wrestling sweatshirts and some worn plaid shorts, she hadn't worn anything but comfy clothes since Robin was born, she'd even joked that it was all she could fit into now. Not that Alex cared, her body had changed of course it had; she'd housed their baby and let me tell you a Karev baby boy wasn't the most delicate baby but Alex thought any marks their baby left on her body made her all the more sexier. He'd taken great delight in changing her phone contact to MILF, he thought it was funny up until one of the scrub nurses had loudly called out that MILF was calling during one of his surgeries last week.
"Mhmm, you can say that again."
Jo looked up startled as she turned towards him in surprise, a frown instantly falling across her face. "No...no no you're meant to be asleep." She cried. Shaking his head at her disappointment Alex pushed off the wall heading towards her.
"Stop" Jo cried suddenly, holding one arm out, making Alex freeze on the spot. "There's glass." She looked down sheepishly as she gestured to the broken glass on the floor.
Rolling his eyes Alex turned back towards the door grabbing the broom as he began to sweep a pathway. "What the hell is this early morning mess in aid of?"
Sighing Jo took a seat at the dining table, cradling Robin in her arms, she looked apologetic as she watched Alex clean away her mess. "It was meant to be a Father's Day breakfast." She mumbled quietly.
"Oh," Alex nodded, sweeping the glass into the bin along with the burnt waffles. "That's what this is?" He asked, prying another burnt waffle from the pan, staring at the charcoal brick wondering how it had got this bad while trying to hide his laughter and spare her feelings.
"Shut up," Jo growled, as Alex continued to laugh at her failed breakfast attempt. "It was gonna be a surprise."
"A good one?" He felt one of Robin's bibs hit him in the back trying to fight the smirk from his face. His first Father's Day, he couldn't believe it, the truth is he didn't need a perfect breakfast or an expensive gift being a father was more than enough. Alex Karev had grown up being told he wasn't good enough for anyone, that he wasn't the type of man that got the happy family with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids, and while he doesn't have a white picket fence or 2.5 kids (yet) he does a have a very happy sleep-deprived family.
"I wanted you to have the perfect Father's Day."
"By giving me food poisoning?" He grinned turning towards them both.
"Piss off," Jo growls again as Alex lifts Robin out of her arms.
Robin kicked his legs out happily, slapping his hands against Alex's face, excited to see his father. "You know his first word is gonna be cuss word if you keep that up."
"No, it won't." Jo grins, rising up to stand behind Alex, peering over his shoulder to watch Robin curl up against Alex chest "His first word is gonna be Da-da." She grinned leaning against Alex's back, nodding at Robin over his shoulder. "Da da"
"Jo he's two months old it's not physically possible for him to talk yet."
"Yes but he's very advanced." Jo chimed in with her baby voice, never taking her eyes off Robin. "Aren't you Robin...Say da-da."
Alex grinned as he craned his neck to watch Jo and Robin interact, laughing as Robin kicked his legs again, bouncing about in his arms, squealing in excitement at Jos' attempts to get him to speak.
"Ah" Jo stepped back, looking up at Alex. "Did you hear that? Sounded like a Da to me."
"Sounded like a burp to me." Alex shrugged, patting the baby's back, frowning at his wife's crazy behaviour.
"Don't be a spoilsport my baby is a genius aren't you?” Jo gushes, holding her finger out for Robin to grab onto. "Say dada."
"I'm sure he will be incredibly clever just like his mother, hey bud, you're not gonna talk for a while yet are you?" Alex aks, waving one of Robin's hands around as he spins slowly around the kitchen "No you're just thinking about mommy's boobs aren't ya?" He laughs, as Robin tries to pull his finger towards his mouth.
"Ha look at that he smiled" Alex exclaimed watching Robin's face light up.
"You just said that he is only two months and that is not physically possible blah blah" Jo recounted, whipping up the last remnants of juice.
"Yeah well you just said he's a genius which he is, isn't he? Mommy's boobs" Alex whispered again, watching Robin smile again at the mention of Jo's boobs.
"Alex" Jo scolded. Throwing the dishcloth in the sink moving over towards her boys.
"What?" Alex laughed "Look he's smiling." Alex exclaims excitedly as he lifts Robin up, turning him slightly so Jo can see the gummy smile gracing Robin's face.
"Not sure that makes him a genius" Jo mumbles "but he's definitely your son."
"Yeah, he is. Daddy smiles when he thinks about mommy's boobies too." Alex grins winking at Jo as he walks through to the living room away from the faint burnt smell left in the kitchen.
"Do you like his onesie?" Jo asks, plopping down next to Alex on the sofa resting her head against Alex's shoulder, while he sat Robin up on his lap facing the two of them. He was dressed in a simple white babygrow but there was something written across the front in bright blue writing.
My Daddy is a Superhero
"Yeah, it's cute I guess, not sure how true it is." Alex shrugs, trying to still the squirming baby with one hand as he leant back on the sofa wrapping his spare arm around Jo.
Frowning Jo snuggled closer, offering her hand for the little infant to grip on to. "What do you mean? You spend your life saving tiny humans, Captain America has nothing on you."
Alex gives Jo an appreciative smile, "You save lives too." He points out, bouncing Robin on his knee to keep the baby from fussing.
"Yes but today is all about you." Jo murmurs against Alex's neck, peppering kisses up his neck and along his jaw. "Sorry, it's off to a bumpy start."
"Hey I don't care about the waffles, I got the best gift right here and you aren't too bad either." Alex winks, turning to face Jo.
"Even if I haven't washed my hair in two weeks, and smell like a baby sick?"
"Oh especially then" Alex grins leaning in to press his lips against hers, it wasn't the most passionate kiss barely lasting a couple of seconds before Robin began to fuss and slap his hands against Alex's chest demanding attention from his parents.
Laughing quietly Jo and Alex grinned at their baby boy. "We will never have a moment alone again, will we?" Alex grumbled tickling Robin under his arms.
"No, probably not but I wouldn't have it any other way," Jo mumbled, laughing as Robin began to wriggle in Alex's arms, drooling as he tried to latch onto Alex's nipple.
"It might be fathers day but that is definitely mommas department." Alex laughs awkwardly passing Robin over to Jo as she shifts up in his arms, getting ready to feed their son. "Why don't I go make us some edible breakfast while you sort out this little guy's feeding?”
Sighing as she adjusted her sweatshirt to allow Robin to feed, Jo gives Alex a soft smile, she feels like she depends on him for way too much these days, she had just wanted this one day to be all about Alex. "Today is all about treating you though." Jo whines, quietly, stroking her finger across Robin's cheek as he feeds.
"Hey any day with you two and no idiot interns is a treat." Alex jokes, placing a soft kiss against Jo's temple as he pushes off the sofa heading towards the kitchen.
"Hey, Alex?" Jo calls, stopping him in his tracks.
Alex turns back, looking around the doorframe sending Jo a questioning look. "Yeah?"
"Happy Father's Day," Jo says sincerely, as she moves her gaze from Robin to Alex. "We're really lucky to have you."
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gma-crafts · 5 years
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The Purrposal
The biggest thanks to @iloveyou-3000 for beta-reading faster than I could say Boom! You’ve been such a big help! A big smooch to @robertdowneyjjr for being such a sweet co-parent to the feline trio - check out her fics about the catdad!ironhusbands linked below!
Word Count: 3,286 Warnings: just loads of fluff, “very soft and gay” - test readers Characters: James Rhodes, Tony Stark, and their cats Mochi, Susu and Jonathan Summary: Tony lost something. Rhodey offers his help. But sometimes you only know what you’ve been looking for when you find it.
*
“Honeeey?” “What?”  “Where’s my super suit?” “Whaaat??” 
“Where the hell did she go?” 
Rhodey drew his attention away from the movie he was watching. It’s not like he was able to actually concentrate on it anyway, ever since Tony slid into the room wearing his fuzzy socks  ten minutes ago, and started opening  drawers and doors, growing more and more frantic each time. Mochi, who had been sleeping on Rhodey’s lap, posing as a fluffy white bun, woke up from the ruckus and hopped off the couch to find a less noisy spot somewhere else in the house; and, honestly, Rhodey couldn’t blame her. 
“You good there, Tones?” He asked over his shoulder, though he doubted he’d get a proper answer. Ever since he and his boyfriend moved in together two years ago, those hectic outbursts with Tony forgetting about everything and everyone within a two-mile radius became one of the less pleasant parts of their everyday life. 
Don’t get him wrong, Rhodey loved waking up next to this beautiful disaster of a man, brushing back the mess of curls and watch those Bambi eyes flutter open. His military operations had him exposed to raw, untouched wilderness all over the planet, from desert sunrise to dusk setting over a snow-covered tundra. None of those ever had him stop and stare as when Tony’s soft, chocolatey gaze fell on him, spreading a warmth he almost felt physically. 
But while Rhodey was a romantic at heart, as well as hopelessly in love with his oldest friend, he also was a calm and rational man - you’d never see him run around like a headless chicken in search for anything. Whenever something would be misplaced (and Rhodey liked to make clear that he was in no way affiliated with losing it in the first place), he would track it down systematically. 
Tony, however, was different. He could hyper-fixate on a scientific concept for weeks, only to then revolutionize it in his basement workshop on a Friday afternoon. He kept track of  a multitude of important things with an ease Rhodey only could envy. But if Tony discovered his favourite hoodie, the Stark Tech drafts Pepper had been expecting for weeks or Jonathan’s catnip toy weren’t where he assumed they’d be, the genius was gone in no time. You could set a countdown from ninety seconds down and watch him turn from chill to hysteric once it hit zero. 
The time must’ve been up way before Tony dashed into their living room. Rhodey’s question went unheard and the bang of the highboard’s bottom drawer sounded particularly final. Rhodey hopped over the backrest with a small sigh - this goddamn hectic! - and squatted down next to one of the world’s richest people squirming on the ground, face pressed into the small gap between the expensive leather couch and the Italian oak floorboards , cooing and frolicking with a tremor in his voice that replaced Rhodey’s bewilderment with worry. 
“Care to tell me what you’re looking for?” 
“-t now, she’s gotta be here somewhere, f'god’s sake..”, came the muffled response. Rhodey gave his nose a small rub with his knuckle, more to gather himself than  to cure an itch; he then hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Tony’s cargo pants and tugged him closer, ignoring the small yelp of protest, and cupped his boyfriend’s face firmly. Rhodey would tear up over the pout Tony sported later, he had to remain serious now. 
“Babe. We talked about this. Stop making yourself all panicky and tell me what’s up.” Rhodey emphasized every sentence with planting a kiss on the absolute mess of curls, and with each, Tony’s grip on his wrists loosened a little. Finally he let some of his tension slip and leaned into Rhodey’s touch, still a bit out of breath from crawling all over the floor. His eyes were suspiciously bright when he finally answered.
“It’s Susu. I can’t find her! I looked for her all day, went through every room twice, I checked the laundry, all the drawers, I shook the treat box til I spilt half of them on the stairs, JARVIS went through the tapes for the last 48 hours, I checked all the beds and scratch trees. She. Is. Gone.” He huffed and slumped down against Rhodey’s chest, who immediately wound him into a hug. 
“I lost my baby, Platypus. Probably locked her out days ago without even noticing and now she got run over by a car or froze to death or the Chitauri abducted her to-” 
“Tony”, he cut off his boyfriend’s ramblings “First of all, nobody freezes to death in Malibu, especially not in June. Second of all, if she really had gotten lost outside, JARVIS wouldn’t have tracked her chip to still be inside this house. That was the very first thing you told him to do, remember?” 
Tony nodded, his hair tickling Rhodey’s cheek. “Remind me to enhance the accuracy down to the very inch she’s standing on”, he mumbled against his boyfriend’s shoulder, hands gripping tighter on the fabric of Rhodey’s henley, his cheek vibrating from the chuckle the taller man let out. 
“Anything, babe . But first let’s get you a snack and some water. Something’s telling me you haven’t eaten all day. And then we’ll find Susu together.” 
Tony frowned at that suggestion, and Rhodey would’ve laughed out loud ‘cause it made him look so much like that genius, stubborn teenage boy that burst into his dorm room years ago, throwing his world upside down. Instead, he just smiled into Tony’s disastrous bedhead one last time before urging him towards the pantry. 
Five minutes later, a granola-munching Tony followed Rhodey around as they searched for the smallest member of their feline bunch. It’s been almost a year since the two of them had adopted the pitch-black ball of fluff along with their oldest cat, Jonathan. Officially, they were brought into their little family to keep their first furbaby, Mochi, company; in reality, Rhodey had suggested taking in another cat after Mochi declared him his favourite person, and after Tony became less and less efficient in hiding that he was genuinely hurt by this decision. 
While Jonathan never missed the opportunity to strut all over Tony’s face with a satisfied purr every morning, Susu and him grew especially close. Of course, Tony turned down any attempt of Rhodey’s to point out how much alike they were - tiny, soft, energetic bundles of joy, always on the jump to their next adventure, experiencing the world around them with a mind so sharp and a curiosity so insatiable Rhodey gave up on trying to understand them long ago. And every time  he thought he finally had it sorted out, discovered the pattern, they’d turn around and surprise him with an entire new facette. But yeah, he was totally making all of that up. 
They decided to start with their bedroom, since this was where Susu was most likely to be found - if she wasn’t napping in one of the twelve cat beds scattered in Tony’s workshop. While both Jonathan and Mochi mastered the art of coincidentally wanting to take a nap in the room you were already in, Susu never made her affection for Tony a secret. Rhodey often caught her checking in on Tony between naps with her high-pitched meows, her soft purrs, sometimes shamelessly bumping her head into his arm until he caved in and gave her some much-needed  belly rubs. Those two chaotic goblins clinging to each other like conjoined twins made it even more suspicious that Susu hadn’t been seen for some hours now. 
Rhodey tried his best to hide that he began to worry about the kitten’s sudden disappearance. With Tony still padding along behind him, he entered the bedroom and decided to start his search counterclockwise. Rhodey made sure to include Tony as best as he could, make him feel useful and not spiral further down; he asked him to hold up the sheets while he tried to squeeze under the bed with soft coos, or made Tony get the treats while he went through the first third of their wardrobe. Tony did as he was told, way calmer now as if Rhodey’s presence alone helped him to not lose his marbles. 
He was in the middle of searching the top of their wardrobe as well as the upper compartments, when Rhodey heard a soft “Oh!” from across the room, where their dresser stood. He half jumped, half tumbled down the chair he was standing on and hurried over to where Tony hunched over the second to bottom drawer - the one with the old shirts Tony wore in his workshop. Rhodey sat down next to him, hand reaching to pull his boyfriend into a comforting hug, when he caught a glimpse of why Tony was on the verge of crying. 
Two very yellow, very sleepy-looking spots were blinking up to him from between two stacks of black shirts. He now realized that Tony wasn’t sobbing, but non-stop mumbling to the little black cat squeezed into the already crammed drawer; a wild mix of profanities and affectionate murmurs. Rhodey let out a sigh of relief and reached over Tony’s shoulder to scratch Susu’s ear, much to her delight. 
“-was so worried you stupid tiny fur noodle… checked this drawer like three times and you didn’t even wake up”, his boyfriend croaked and quickly wiped his face with his sleeve, before bending down and planting a big smooch on the kitten’s head. Susu responded with a friendly mewl and nuzzled her face against Tony’s cheek as if she hadn’t been M.I.A. for the past few hours, as if she was just checking in on him as usual, and yeah, now Tony cried. 
Carefully he wiggled his hands around Susu’s tummy, lifting her a bit before placing one hand underneath her hind legs for support. But Susu, who had been fast asleep not even two minutes ago, wasn’t so eager to leave her hideout yet, and when Tony pulled her closer to his chest, two of the shirts came along with the cat, attached to her claws only by a couple of threads. And with the shirts and a small thud, something else fell to the floor, and Rhodey’s heart jumped to his throat. 
“What’s that? You’ve been hoarding treasures in there, you stinky gremlin?”, Tony cooed, Susu pressed against him with one hand as he leaned down. Rhodey suppressed a small yelp; he had forgotten what he had put in that drawer until now. He tried to snatch it before Tony could see what it was, but both his hands had been too busy with running his boyfriend’s back up and down in soothing circles. A slim, calloused hand closed around the fine leather, and the soft words muttered into the kitten’s fur faded into silence. 
Rhodey waited for a reaction, any reaction, but Tony just sort of froze, staring at the box he held, dumbstruck. He had no doubt Tony recognized the logo embossed into the lid immediately, connected the dots, and the longer the only audible sound was Susu purring like a fuzzy Bentley, the more anxious he became.  
“Rhodey, is this what I think it is?” He didn’t look at the taller man, just slowly turned the box over and over in his hand, brows furrowed. Well, that wasn’t exactly a No, right? With gentle fingers Rhodey took the box from Tony’s grasp and flipped the lid open with his thumb, his eyes not leaving Tony’s face. 
The frown slipped off his boyfriend’s features like a heap of snow from a rooftop, his eyes glistening with emotion and a sob tugging on the corner of his mouth. Tony lifted Susu a bit higher, buried his face in her fur for a second before he gently sat her down on the dresser, and reached to touch the slim metal band sitting in a bed of dark velvet. 
“It’s made from our suits’ old chest plates. Y’know, that ‘piece of my heart’ thing. It’s sappy I know, but I liked it better than some fancy white gold or platinum,” Rhodey explained, more to calm his nerves than to actually share the info. Tony remained quiet, his thumb brushing over the anthracite metal, separated by a thin line of hot rod red and the tiny aquamarine sitting on top of it. Was that a smile? Yeah, but a sad one. Rhodey waited in anticipation for Tony to say something. 
“I, um… I guess you want to keep that now.” Rhodey’s heart death-dropped from his throat to the soles of his feet. What? 
“Tones, what are you talking about?” While he spoke, he set down the ring box on top of the dresser, where Susu gave it a curious sniff. 
“I spent way more time on coming up with the perfect moment to give it to you than I’m willing to admit. The only reason I haven’t asked to put it on your finger yet is ‘cause I’m having the hardest time finding words for just how much I love you, and how happy it’d make me to be at your side, as your husband.“ 
Tony still didn’t look at him, arms wrapped around himself tightly and, oh no, Rhodey knew what that meant. They were back to spiraling, but the different kind. Quickly he closed the gap between them, his hands squeezing into the space between Tony’s biceps and ribs, gently forcing his crossed arms apart. The smaller man giggled involuntarily, and shied away from getting wound into yet another hug, but Rhodey wasn’t having any of it; his hands remaining on Tony’s waist, he pushed slowly, but firmly, until his boyfriend had to give in to the pressure. 
Stumbling backwards until he hit the bed, Tony found himself harboured in by Rhodey’s arms on either side of his face, anchored down by the taller man hovering over him, so close he could feel Rhodey’s warm breath on his neck. It was hard letting your insecurities take the best of you, when the man you loved smiled down at you warm and tender like that. 
Tony had a history with pushing through hard times alone, no one there to offer him comfort, even if he had been able to ask for it. Rhodey knew that isolating himself became one of Tony’s default responses to emotional stress, and he tried his best to let him know, at least physically, that he didn’t need to endure everything alone. Little did he know that for Tony, every kiss and every hug felt like a heating pad on an aching muscle. 
"Tony. You’re the most brilliant yet most dense man I’ve ever met. Honestly, who looks at an engagement ring and goes ‘Oh, whoops! Must’ve been a mistake, that can’t possibly be for me’? I’ve spent years trying to figure out how that beautiful mind of yours works, and all it got me was a thinning hairline. So, Tones. Babe. Tell me what on earth makes you think I wouldn’t wanna marry you right here, right now?" 
Tony squirmed around beneath him, his eyes glistening again; Rhodey didn’t move an inch. They’d talk this out, and they’d do it now, before Tony fled into his workshop and had JARVIS lock him out for three days straight. 
"I- it’s just…”, Tony started, rather at a loss of words than reluctant to open up to his boyfriend; but eventually, the dam broke. 
“I don’t see how you could possibly wanna marry me after I spent all day going bonkers over a cat, after I roamed the entire house twice, like an idiot, cried about seven times and didn’t even think of asking you for help 'til you physically dragged me away from crawling underneath the couch and- and”, he caught a quick breath, before continuing twice as fast “And I’m clearly not fit to be a good and supportive husband to you when I can’t even keep my shit together over a trifle like this, and just bottle up instead of asking for help, when I disappointed you and Susu with acting like an actual five-year-old and I don’t even know wh-" 
The rest of the sentence was muffled by Rhodey’s lips on his, taking the breath for further rambling straight out of his lungs. The first sobs escaped Tony, and Rhodey switched to covering his face with pecks, kissing away the tear on his temple, brushing a thumb over the corner of his mouth until it lifted up into a tiny smile. Underneath him, Tony’s body was pliant now, and he just let Rhodey shield him from the world. 
“Sweetheart. Dearest idiot mechanic. You may have synthesized a new element, but being brilliant apparently made you forget that you threw no less than seven birthday parties for your bots. And that I attended all of them. Going feral over a missing cat is not what makes me love you less, it’s what made me fall for you in the first place. You care about things most people wouldn’t even notice. The only idiot here? Clearly me for waiting so long with proposing and finally make you mine, with all your quirks. If you want, that is,” he added quickly. 
And now Tony beamed, and he sobbed, and he hiccuped all at once, and goodness gracious how did he manage to look so disastrous yet so beautiful, Rhodey would never get used to this. Slender fingers tugged on his neck, pulling him into another kiss. 
“Of course I wanna marry my Platypus. ‘course I wanna be yours”, Tony muttered against his lips, the tears rolling down his face not only his now. Rhodey smiled into the kiss, hands finding their way into Tony’s hair, lips trailing down the arch of Tony’s neck like they did countless times before. And when he got a soft, delicate moan as an answer it really couldn’t get any better- Only that it could. 
“Hang in there for a sec”, Rhodey muttered and got up, scurrying over to where he left the ring on the dresser, with Susu guarding it like a fluffy loaf of bread. He reached for the box when a streak of muffled cusses erupted behind him. 
“G’dammit Jonathan! Off my face you fuzzy bastard I’m. Not. Catnip!” 
Rhodey turned around just in time to see the big grey tabby stretching out contentedly all over Tony’s head, as if he were his favourite toy. Tony’s efforts to get Jonathan off of him were sabotaged by Mochi, who had entered the room along with the older cat, and now took a seat on Tonys arm, making it useless in the man’s attempt to not suffocate. Rhodey grabbed both Susu and the box and hurried over to save his boyfriend - no! - his fiance. 
“Didn’t strike you as the one to wear fur, Tones”, he quipped as he lifted the tabby off of Tony. Jonathan shot him a disgraceful look, before he scattered off to see if he could find some more of the treats Tony spilt earlier; Mochi and Susu followed heel. While Tony sat up and wiped the cat hair off his face with his shirt, Rhodey smiled down on him, opening the box once more to finally place the ring where it belonged. The small ‘click’ made Tony look up; and when Rhodey reached for his hand, and the cool metal settled against his flesh, his smile didn’t falter for a second. 
“So, Babe,” Rhodey spoke after a minute of silence. He leaned forward until their lips met, softly pushing further, and Tony let himself sink back all too willingly. “Wanna pick up where we left off?”
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shikkearu · 4 years
Text
Part 23 : Best day of the year
She felt warm lips on her cheek and she woke up to the darkness and her husband caressing her side. - "Happy birthday, Perona." He whispered and littered her with soft kisses. She tried wrapping her arms around him, but he chuckled and got out of her grasp. -"Just a moment," he smiled and left the bed before coming back and softly putting Zoro on top off her chest. "I think he wants to congratulate you too." - "My precious little prince? Thank you Zoro." She started to unbutton her shirt. - "As usual leave everything to me. And I mean everything. No nappies or stupid things like that. Just the best he can offer for you. Today I'll bake you a cake and Moria said he would be over. You know for the-" - "I know." She smiled. "For the best day of the year."
Perona sighed.
Even if she had promised in her mind to start fully living, somehow she wasn't really feeling like starting it just yet. Making arrangements for the anniversary party was making her feel gloomy. She wasn't really feeling it even if everyone she had invited were encouraging of it.
Hancock and her family was invited too. Dragon had offered to barbecue there and Shanks had promised Mihawk he would film the thing. Shanks had a lot of memories of Mihawks son even if the two of them weren't that close. Perona felt bad she had not known earlier, she would have invited him at the wedding and the funeral, had she known, though Mihawk did say that Shanks didn't feel bad about it, but she would apologize anyway the next time she'd see him.
A year was closing in of her husbands death, but there was one thing even closer: Her own birthday.
Any other year she would have advertised it and kept noise, but not this time. She didn't want to have it at all. It just meant she was ageing while he was frozen in time. She was older than him already and now...
She felt sick just thinking about her birthday. Last year they had excitedly just spend the whole day together and celebrated as usual. She hadn't even gotten a present from him, since they had decided to save money, just in case there was going to be a rainy day. Now most of what they had saved had gone into the funeral and bills. Her balance right now would be near zero had not Mihawk stepped into the picture.
She owned him so much.
Not money, that he had made sure for her to understand, but still she felt indebted to him. He had helped her financially, provided food and shelter, been there as emotional support. Yet through it all he didn't ask for anything back. Even to be supported back, he didn't ask for, but he definitely needed it. She wanted to somehow pay him back, but it felt impossible. Even though they had celebrated his and Zoros birthdays, she wasn't giving him the same opportunity. She felt bad about that too, but no amount of feeling bad would make her want to celebrate so she kept silent.
To avoid it, she tried keeping herself busy and the birthday might just fly past. No problem at all. Maybe Mihawk might ask later if they missed it, but she hoped he wouldn't notice. Right now today was just another day of hanging around the house with Zoro, tending to his needs, doing the chores, getting a little bit of time for herself, which she honestly didn't need as she would have just thought about her past birthdays and the happiness she had had. Why had she been so big on them in the past? Big parties, lots of advertising, OH WHY!? Just the memories were making it so hard this year.
- "Mommy." Zoro snapped her out of her thoughts. - "So what's the best you can offer for me today?" She kneeled beside him as he was on his potty waiting for her to whipe. -"Poopie." He said as he lifted his bottom a bit to let her do her job. - "It smells like one, doesn't it? Smells like eww." - "Eww."
His playful mimicking made her smile as she pulled some new diapers on him and then went to clean the potty as he look from the side sucking his thumb a little. She picked him up and put him on a stool by the sink. He held his hands out while she washed them for him.
- "Humgry." He announced as she dried their hands. - "Pappa will be home soon. Is it a big hunger?"
Zoro nodded leaning out his tummy slightly moving from side to side.
-"Biiig hunger." - "You want cookies?" - "Yes." Zoro nodded and patted his tummy. - "Cookies it is."
They made their way into the kitchen and Perona gave Zoro a cookie on his plate before lifting him on his chair. From the fridge she took out a carton of milk and poured some for him in his sippy cup. She watched as Zoro ate and sipped his milk while waving his chubby legs in the air.
She felt content with this day being mundane. Even if everything else would turn badly, she would still have Zoro and she would do her best to keep him with her. He was keeping her happy and busy. She wouldn't need anyone else than him to live a joyous and fulfilling life. A lie she told herself, slowly making it reality.
She sighed a little. She wanted to see Moria at that moment, but at the same time didn't. He was always there for her birthdays, but this year she wished he wouldn't be. She dreaded the idea of Moria coming over, when she was feeling so weak. She had kept her mouth shut, hoping he'd forget in his rush. So many needed him and she played that fact to her benefit.
Today just couldn't feel like a birthday, no matter what. She wouldn't be able to deal with the guilt that joy would bring.
- "More!" Zoro demanded. - "Aren't you being a little glutton?" she laughed and went to get him another.
Normal quiet day was enough.
-----
- "I'm home." Came Mihawks calm, but strong voice. - "Welcome home." Perona greeted back.
She was in the living room with Zoro just watching him play as he would make angry noises if she tried to take part or if she didn't watch. So she kept on watching kind of getting lost to her thoughts at the process so having Mihawk back home was a welcome change. He was another welcome distraction. Trying to pass her birthday quietly was getting to her.
- "Hello!" Zoro waved before continuing playing. - "How was work?" She hummed.
There was a strange bit of silence, so she turned to look at him. She could have sworn there was a bitter sorrowful look to him. Like he was regretting something.
- "That bad?" she asked and Mihawk nodded. - "Hughf!! Mommy!" Zoro tapped Peronas lap. - "Yes, yes. I'm looking." She laughed and turned back at him.
She could hear Mihawk slump upstairs. She wondered what had happened.
Maybe... maybe he knew about her birthday?
Perona shooked her head. - "Brrrrr a doggy!" Zoro laughed and shook his head. - "Just like a doggy." she smiled feeling bit less uneasy. - "Pat pat. Pat dog." Zoro stood up and patted her head. - "Wof wof" she barked.
- "So will it be dog food for todays meal?" Mihawk was back down to ask.
Perona kept barking feeling her heart a little cold. No, today she should have... Just no.
- "Hmmm?" He cocked his head and walked up to them. "Zoro, what do you want?" He patted Peronas head. - "Cookie. Big hunger." Zoro said gleeful. - "Thats snack, not real food." Mihawk hummed. "Guess I'll just think something myself."
He was just about to go when the doorbell rang, so instead he headed for the door. Perona knew who it was and braced herself, while praying to herself that it wasn't Moria.
- "Oh Moria? What are you doing here?" Mihawk looked at the giant of a man.
Perona wanted to crawl under the sofa.
- "What am I doing here? Kishishi, you must jest." Moria snickered, but after getting a blank stare back he frowned. "It's Peronas birthday, of course I'm here."
Mihawks eyes grew wide for a second and he turned to the livingroom and walked straight up to Perona and Zoro. He stared at her and Moria got in a bit awkwardly. They didn't need to say anything, just Mihawks burning gaze to the back of her head was enough to break her.
- "I don't want to celebrate." She said meekly and hugged herself. "Not when he... I just don't."
This was enough for Mihawk to understand so he sighed and looked over at Moria.
- "I see. Then I'm just visiting my grandchild." - "Right on time, I was just asking what to make for dinner." - "Hmm, how about spaghetti?" Moria signed towards the kitchen. - "Sounds good..." Mihawk looked a little confused but nodded.
He gave Peronas head a pat and Moria picked up Zoro while they all went to the kitchen. Perona stood up and went for her room. She laid on the bed and covered her face.
It felt awful.
Why were they so understanding, when she had denied them the right to celebrate her birthday? She would have been pissed off beyond belief any other year, but right now she just felt hurt. She was hurt because they both just gave up so quick, but also thankful they did.
- "I'm an idiot." she groaned. "Stupid idiot."
She sulked there and listened to a cheerful explanation from Moria, but it got covered with Zoro going buck wild. It was not everyday dear Boo was over. Perona sighed and got up. Like Moria had said, he was just there to see his grandson, nothing more. So there was no reason to sulk like this. She walked to the kitchen and gasped feeling tears rise to her eyes. Moria was making bagels while, Zoro and Mihawk looked from the side.
- "You've got an interesting birthday tradition." Mihawk smiled to her. - "You shouldn't have-" she started to grumble, but Moria cut her short. - "Of course I did! I've done you your birthday bagel every year and I'm not going to miss it this year." He stated.
Perona just broke into tears and went to hug Moria.
- "I'm sorry, dad." she rubbed her face against him. - "It's fine. We understand why you wouldn't want to celebrate, but do you think he would have wanted you to stop, when he knows how much you love birthdays?" - "No, he wouldn't, but this year... It hurts." - "We'll just keep it small." Moria rubbed her back. "Is that ok?" - "Yeah, thank you." she looked up and smiled. - "Happy birthday, Perona."
They got to the table to give the bagels a taste. Perona cried as they tasted just as good a they had the first time she had ever eaten one.
-----
The people around Perona were beaming. The weird doctor was happy too as he was explaining things. The purple onion man was the happiest.
-"You're getting out today, isn't it grand? I got you new clothes, but we'll keep the old ones too." Onion gave her a shiny toothy grin.
She tugged her gown with pastel coloured bears on it. She looked up at him and smiled.
- "Ah not that one. The ones from before, ah never mind. You'll remember them eventually. Do you like this one?"
Onion held up a bright red dress with white collar and she jumped and squealed. Yes, she loved it. With a little help from him she was in the red gown. She jumped up and down happily. She was very happy. She grabbed onto onions out stretched hand and they started walking. Walking out of the pale room with coulourful pictures and her bed. She could see the other kids wave and she waved back. But when they were at the door, she grabbed onto it's frame and wouldn't budge. Onion looked worried.
- "Did you forget something?" - "Scary." - "Oh there's not going to be any tests today. You're getting out, remember." Onion smiled and knelt down. - "No tests?" - "No tests. We're going to walk down this aisle all the way to the doors and then we'll go outside. Outside might be scary but you've been there before so there's nothing to worry about."
Onion patted her head, and let her hold his hand again. She was happy to go. Tests were scary even if the ladies were nice. Onion was the best. Onion was safe.
- "Oh Perona, are you getting out today?" A nurse walked towards them. She nodded and the lady looked happy. - "Good, I thought I might have missed you going. Hold still, I've get you a gift."
She knelt down and slowly combed Peronas hair with her fingers. She reached into her pocket and took two red ribbons. She tied them onto her hair. Perona shook her head and laughed as two big tails swung and bounced.
They were getting nearer to the exit with every step. She had a vague idea on what to expect, but remembering things was hard. The doors slid aside and they stepped outside. It was bright and loud, overwhelming really. She grabbed onto onions leg and he laughed. Onion started taking big steps with her clutched onto his foot and she too started laughing. They made it to the car and she bounced excited as she got front seat. It was her first time inside a car.
They stopped at the yard of an old creaky house. She looked up and down excited but anxious. Together they stepped inside. She explored the house with onion and eventually they were together in the kitchen. He was making something that smelled so mouth watering. She had never ever smelled anything so good had she?
-"Here's for you, a hot bagel."
He put it in front of her and she wasted no time as she devoured it. He chuckled amused.
- "Was it good?" He asked. -"Thank you, Onion." She nodded profusely. - "Ah, no no, It's Moria remember. Not onion, Moria."
Perona laughed as he tried to make her understand. Onion was funny.
----
- "I hope you're not angry." Perona said to Mihawk as they were sitting in his study. Moria was on his way home and Zoro was sleeping downstairs.
- "I'm not." he answered and looked at his collection of wine bottles. - "You should be. We celebrated yours and Zoros, but I would have just let mine go by quietly." She said depressed. Mihawk sighed deeply and took a bottle. - "I'm not angry if you don't want to do something painful. If anything I'm only a little annoyed I couldn't get you a present." he opened it and poured some into his glass. - "Having Moria over was enough of a present." - "I think so too." he offered it to her. - "I don't want that." Perona gave him a pout. - "Amuse me." he hummed. "I want an honest opinion on the taste." - "Ugh, fine."
She took the glass and gave it a sniff before taking a good sip. She crunched up her nose.
- "I don't hate wine but this is undrinkable." she groaned. "Don't tell me you like this." - "No, I had it as a present from a person who I knew loathed me. Its been years now." - "And you haven't tasted it yet?" - "Because I knew it would taste awful." He gave her a mischievous smirk. - "Ah! I didn't deserve that you baboon." She looked at him absolutely betrayed.
Mihawk just laughed at that and left to clean the glass.
- "Hey! Aren't you going to say you're sorry!?" She followed. - "No." His answer was curt and amused.
He was happy, that her gloom hadn't gotten the better of her.
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h2bakugou · 4 years
Note
breakfast in bed with bakugo and shouto? them surprising their s/o in them morning. headcanons are alright i dont rlly mind anything. this has just been a thought inside my mind for a while lol
a/n: omg yes this is so wholesome, i decided to do a pro hero au cuz i think it would be super sweet <3 
pro hero au!! all characters are aged up 18+ !!
headcanon: them surprising their s/o with breakfast in bed
key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk
warnings: fluff, swearing
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katsuki bakugou
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We all know how much this boy loves to cook, and just by guessing, his food has got to be hella good so- you’re in for a treat
It’s a surprise for sure.
You’re used to the missing heat from beside you in the mornings, it’s usually him leaving to go patrol or head into the agency. But he didn’t tell you about today
Today he had the day off, and he wanted to spend it with you. Sure maybe a day off for himself wasn’t so bad, he could relax, take a nice long bath and not worry about having to put on all his heavy gear and let his body really rest for a day.
But what he wanted more than that, yes really more than his own selfish needs, was you.
Was to see that warm smile that you wore when you were just barely awake and kissing him goodbye the few mornings you woke up when he did, even more so, he wanted to see your beautiful face full of surprise when he handed you a tray full of a yummy breakfast he’d cooked up just for you.
And he might’ve slept in just a little bit, more than usual, but he still woke up fairly early to start cooking. You missed his body heat severely and clung to the body pillow you had laying on the opposite side of where Bakugou would lay.
Tucked cutely under the blankets, Bakugou took a few seconds to admire you as you peacefully slept, taking in all your features.
Your (h/c) was strung about, a little messy from sleeping on it, but it was a cute messy, the kind of messy that proved sleep was good.
Or the way your lips were pursed ever so slightly, a leg strewn over the body pillow you wished was Bakugou.
Getting to work, he fixed something grand, a hearty breakfast of all your favorite foods, a little bit of everything just for with your favorite breakfast drink, and even something a little sweet.
And when it was all finished, he began to set up the tray he would bring to you. Slipping your favorite flower into a vase that he’d purchased for you on his way home last night, the tray was complete and he began to bring it to your shared room.
Setting the tray down on your dresser, he then leaned down onto the bed and began to nudge you awake.
“Hey...wake up.” Bakugou kissed behind your ear sweetly, startling you. You rubbed your eyes and turned to see him clad in his sleepwear, a pair of loose sweats, and a tank top.
“’Suki- I thought you had-”
“I had today off, so I wanted to surprise you.” Bakugou trailed over to the dressed and presented you with the breakfast. You could feel your face heat up as you tried to wake yourself up more.
Sitting up, you allowed Bakugou to place the tray down over your lap.
“Katsu’, thank you.” You gushed, smiling at him as he sat down beside you, a small smile on his lips. 
“Eat it before I do.” Katsuki smirked, reaching for a piece of toast. You laughed and dug in, relishing in the flavor that everything had.
Feeding Bakugou a few bites here and there, you were amazed and still feeling warm and fuzzy from just being blessed with breakfast in bed.
When the tray had been cleared and all that sat on it were dirty dishes alongside the vase, you sat full and happy.
“Thank you, it was delicious.” You thanked Katsuki for the meal again and ushered your arms for a hug.
Bakugou leaned in and began to head right for your lips. You quickly covered your mouth and yelped.
“Morning breath no! You can’t kiss me!” You pushed him back playfully.
“I cook a delicious meal for you and I can’t even kiss you after?” Bakugou pouts, rolling his eyes as he moves the tray to rest on the floor beside your bed.
“I don’t care about stupid morning breath, kiss me, you idiot.” Bakugou pulls you down on top of him, smashing his lips to yours.
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shoto todoroki
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Todoroki had told you that he had the day off, and you were excited. Being able to snuggle up with your boyfriend while the cool air outside tried to sneak in under your warm covers was such a pleasant feeling.
That being said, Todoroki enjoyed being able to sleep in and hold you in his arms for much longer than he usually got to do on days when he did work.
But he wanted to spoil you, really surprise you. He wanted to spend the day with you, perhaps watch a movie, maybe sneak out and go have a nice dinner later, but he was going to start the day off by making you a nice breakfast.
Slinking away, you were sound asleep and didn’t notice. He’d carefully heated his side of the bed to keep you preoccupied so you wouldn’t notice his absence.
Admiring your sleeping form for a few minutes while he pulled on a shirt over his naked chest, he smiled to himself as your soft snores provided evidence you were still sound asleep.
You were snuggling his pillow like you did most nights, your only excuse being that it smelled like him. You wore one of his shirts and it hung loosely over your frame as your arms laid outside of the blanket, clinging around his pillow.
Your lashes rested on the tops of your cheeks, your chest rising and falling with every breath.
You looked peaceful and innocent, sleeping soundly in your shared bed. Fighting the urge to place a gentle kiss on your cheek, he left the room and headed toward the kitchen to make you breakfast.
He whipped up all your favorite breakfast foods, having made a mental note of all of the foods you enjoyed. It seemed like a bit much, but he snuck a few bites of all the finished products. Plating it all up nicely and adding a few fresh flowers from your shared garden,  a hobby the two of you picked up and worked together on, he placed the beautiful flowers in a vase and set everything neatly on the tray.
Carrying it to your room, he sat down on the bed and held onto the tray carefully as he nudged you awake.
“Rise and shine, beautiful.” Shoto’s voice was soft and kind, his palm cupping your cheek, his thumb rubbing your face delicately as your eyes fluttered open.
“Mmm smells good.” You comment, sitting up, your hair a bit of a mess. Shoto chuckles and kisses your forehead, brushing a few strands away as he paces the tray over your lap.
“You didn’t have to do all this on your day off.” You smile at him, your heart beating faster, feeling like you were back at U.A. when he had asked you out for the first. Your tummy was filled with butterflies at the kind and thoughtful gesture.
“Today is meant for the both of us, eat up, love.” Shoto sat beside you, making small talk while you ate, offering him small bites here and there.
He brushed up on some plans he had for the day, even mentioning possibly going to a couple’s massage.
Clearing the tray of all its contents, leaving only the vase and your dirty dishes which you promised to wash later, Todoroki carried it off to the kitchen and returned to give you a kiss.
“I have morning breath, spare yourself!” You covered your mouth and laughed.
“It’s alright, one kiss won’t hurt.” Todoroki sunk down onto the bed and pulled you into a soft kiss, smiling at the start of his much needed day off.
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masterlist
261 notes · View notes
worryinglyinnocent · 5 years
Text
Fic: Pure (13/14)
Summary: Belle wanted to wait until marriage before she had sex for the first time. It was the one thing that still stuck in her mind after leaving her small town upbringing steeped in religious doctrine and abstinence culture. When her wedding night comes, however, the purity ideals of Storybrooke’s sex education are hard to shake off, and making the transition from virgin to sexually active is more difficult than she anticipated. With the help of a patient husband, Belle begins an intimate journey into understanding her body, her desires, and her identity as a woman.
Rated: E
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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [AO3]
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Pure
Thirteen
It felt good having Aiden back in bed with her. Belle had missed him terribly during the week that he had slept in the spare room, even though he had migrated back to their shared bed a couple of times when she had been crying in the night at the stupidity and unfairness of her brain, and he had come to comfort her like he always would.
Now he’d been back in her arms where he belonged for two months, and she smiled, nuzzling in closer to his side. She had missed this platonic closeness even more than she had missed making love with him, and sometimes she never wanted to let him go. People had always said that she was a hugger, touchy-feely, and she was even more so with Aiden. He’d not been so tactile when they had first met, in fact, her exuberance when it came to hugs and kisses had put him off his guard and he’d been rather wary of her.
But, just as he had eased her into deeper intimacy, so she had eased him into more casual touches and embraces. Strange that she should have been the one to teach him first, when she always thought of him as the more experienced one. It just went to show that there was still a lot that they could learn from each other. Their sessions with Dr Hopper were proving that too.
Aiden’s hand slid down her back, coming to rest on her hip, the tip of his thumb slipping under the waistband of her pyjama pants. Their intimacy had returned in little baby steps over the course of the therapy sessions, much as they had worked in small steps when they had first been exploring each other on their honeymoon. This time though, there was much less nervousness and fumbling. They were much more familiar with each other’s bodies, their likes, and their dislikes; falling back into the rhythms that they had already begun to establish was easier than Belle had thought it was going to be.
She still overthought things sometimes, but now she had strategies in place for when her mind began to turn against her and the snide voice in her head would attempt to get her down. Now she could argue with it rationally.
There was nothing sinful in what she was doing. There was nothing shameful in wanting to be intimate with her husband. She deserved to be loved. She deserved to have this pleasure, and no one had the right to judge her for it.
It was a mental pep talk that she had been giving herself regularly since starting with Dr Hopper, and so far it seemed to be working for her. With every step that she and Aiden took back towards each other, it got a little easier to win against the snide voice, to tell it that it had no place in her sex life. Sex with Aiden was not a moral or immoral act; it was simply a pleasurable one, and she had every reason to enjoy it to the full.
She slipped her hand up under his t-shirt, stroking over his belly and feeling him twitch, his muscles tensing as he readied himself for an onslaught of tickling. Belle smiled to herself in the darkness. She wouldn’t do that to him. Not tonight, at least. Tonight, she wanted something more, and she was not going to let any intrusive thoughts get in the way.
She leaned over to kiss him, and he returned it wholeheartedly, his hand coming up to cup her face beneath the curtain of her hair. It was not a fierce or hungry kiss; it was still sweet and soft, but there was so much deep passion in it, so much need and longing and hope for reunion that Belle had to pull away to get her breath back before going back for another.
“I want you,” she whispered once she released him again. “I love you and I want you.”
“Are you sure?” Aiden didn’t sound like he was trying to put her off, not when his thumb was stroking over her cheek and running along her lips. His asking was more than just a formality, but it was clear that he wanted it just as much as she did. He just wanted to be sure that this want on her part was coming from a place of genuine desire, not a sense of misguided obligation.
Going to Dr Hopper had definitely been the right choice.
“Absolutely.” Belle kissed him again. “I’ve missed you, and I’ve very much enjoyed becoming reacquainted with your beautiful body over the last few days. I’m hoping to get even more reacquainted with it tonight.”
“Then that is what will happen, my darling Belle.” Aiden gently pushed her back against the pillows, and she slipped her arms around his neck, giving a little sigh of happiness as he began to kiss his way down her neck and across her collar, taking the strap of her camisole in his teeth and pulling it down to expose her breast. He was meticulous in his ministrations, leaving no inch of skin untouched as he worked his way down over her breast, sucking her nipple between his lips and swirling his tongue around the sensitive little bud until she felt it pebble and harden. She felt him smile against her skin, and then he was moving across to the other side, repeating the treatment. Belle bucked her hips up against him, arching her back to push her breasts up, closer into his wonderful touch.
She could already feel the wet heat beginning to gather at her entrance, and for the first time in too long a time, she felt no shame in it. This was the way that she was supposed to be feeling. This was not wrong. This was so very, very right.
Aiden paused in his delicate kisses, sitting up a little to help her out of her camisole and to pull off his own t-shirt, but she did not have time to miss his touch, as he continued down over her stomach, darting his tongue into her navel and making her whole body writhe with pleasure at the sensation. It felt like it was going straight down to her clit, and he smirked up at her before doing it again. Belle couldn’t help the little shriek that escaped her, and she immediately clamped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment.
“No, no, be loud, my darling,” Aiden crooned, reaching up to move her hand away. “Be as loud as you like. I like knowing what makes you feel good.”
He reached the waistband of her pyjama pants and began to push them down, pressing kisses to the inside of her thighs and her mound. Belle kicked the pants off, unable to stop her hips from pushing up again, needing his touch right in her centre.
Aiden was happy to oblige, and he lapped along her folds, fingers coaxing out her swollen pearl as his tongue pushed gently at her entrance. Belle could only moan, wriggling and rolling her hips at the wonderful sensation. His tongue really felt so criminally good down there, and she wondered where he had learned his technique. She sent up some silent thanks to whoever had taught him, because she knew that she would not be enjoying this anywhere near as much in other circumstances. This was purely for her pleasure; this was never going to get her pregnant. It should have been bad, but it felt so very, very good that there could be no moral judgement attached to it. They weren’t hurting anyone by doing this.
In fact, it was very much the opposite.
Aiden shifted, his tongue now probing around her clit, drawing little circles, and a finger was pressing up inside her and stroking insistently at her inner walls. So much pleasure, so many touches in so many places… It didn’t surprise Belle at all when she came with a cry, the dam breaking and pleasure flooding through her veins.
“That’s it,” Aiden crooned, pressing little butterfly kisses to her quivering tummy as she came down from the high, pulling his finger out of her slowly and licking her juices off it. He looked so debauched like that, her arousal glistening on his chin and his hair at all angles. It made her heart turn a somersault and sent a fresh wave of heat down between her legs. “I like it when you make a bit of noise. Let it out. Let it go.”
“That was wonderful.” Belle groaned, spread-eagling her limbs on the bed as Aiden began to kiss his way back up her body with just as much eager tenderness as he had made the reverse journey. “Oh Aiden, I missed this so much. I missed your mouth, and your hands, and I just missed you.”
“I’m here now,” he said, reaching her mouth and capturing her lips again. “We’re going to be ok.”
Belle nodded, carding her fingers into his hair to pull him down for another kiss. She could taste herself on his lips, and whilst she wasn’t sure that she liked the taste, she could feel her heart beating faster at the inherent eroticism of it.
She could feel his cock, hot and hard against her thigh, and she brought a hand down between them, cupping him through his pyjama pants.
“Seems I’m not the only one who missed this,” she purred, and immediately felt the blush beginning to rise in her cheeks, because of everything that she had overcome, talking sexy was still something that kicked a natural response. She didn’t feel too embarrassed by it, though. She was still on a learning curve, after all, and they did say that the best way to learn was by constant practice.
Belle was looking forward to all the practice that she could get. Sure, there were still going to be moments when her mind got the better of her, but for now, those moments had been put to bed, and there was nothing stopping her from enjoying the here and now. If she woke up filled with regret, then she had the techniques that Dr Hopper had taught her for working through those feelings, and she had Aiden to talk everything over with.
“Oh Belle, you have no idea.” He helped her pull his pants down and off, and they joined her nightwear on the floor beside the bed. Belle’s hand closed over his as he lined them up, and then he was pushing into her, filling her up and stretching her in the best way possible, moving so slowly and carefully to let her get used to the feeling. Belle curled one of her legs around his, bringing him a little closer. She wanted him close, as close as possible, the sweat mingling on their skin as she held him tightly.
This was what they meant when they talked about two becoming one. Even when they’d been making love before the crisis, Belle didn’t think she’d ever felt as close to Aiden as she did now, having come through all they had together. She could feel the tears beginning to prick the back of her eyes, and she screwed them tight shut, not wanting to cry and ruin the moment. Aiden would worry, even though she knew that these tears were coming from a place of such utter joy and happiness.
Aiden shifted his weight on his forearms and began to move in her, long and slow thrusts of his hips, and Belle moved her own to meet him. His coarse pubic hair was tickling against her sensitive folds making her wriggle and arousing her anew, but it was just not quite enough to get her back to that glorious peak.
“Touch yourself,” Aiden whispered, his voice breathy and strained as his pace began to quicken, losing finesse along the way. “I can feel that you’re close, my lovely. Let’s see if we can’t get you there again.”
Belle let go of him, shakily reaching down between their bodies to press a finger against her clit. She did so without thinking, motivated only by the need for another orgasm that was building but not quite there. She’d always been somewhat wary of touching herself before, but Aiden had always been encouraging. He was being encouraging now. He wanted her to do it; he was asking her to do it.
So, she did, and as the second climax chased down the afterglow of the first, she definitely did not regret it. Nor did she regret the sob of Aiden’s name that escaped her.
“Oh, Belle, Belle!”
She felt the spurt of warmth inside her and his movement stilled, forehead resting against hers.
“Oh Belle,” he breathed. “I’ve missed this.”
“Me too.”
He slipped out of her as he began to shrink and soften, rolling off her and but pulling her in close to his side. His brow furrowed as he shifted his hold on her, and he reached out to touch her cheek. Belle realised that she was crying after all.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’m perfect. Honestly. I don’t even know why I’m crying; I’m so happy.”
Aiden kissed her. “As long as they’re happy tears.”
“God, Aiden, they are. They really are.”
In that moment, Belle didn’t think that she had ever been happier. It was not the first time they’d made love. It was not the first time she’d had an orgasm. It was not the first time they’d been intimate since the Storybrooke debacle; they’d been building up to this for a while. But somehow, it felt like this time meant something very important to the both of them, like they needed to take this step to properly reconnect and get back on the same page of her intimate education.
There was still a way to go, a lot to learn, a lot to unpack with Dr Hopper, but this moment, right now, gave Belle so much hope that it was almost overwhelming.
She loved Aiden, and he loved her, and there was nothing wrong with them expressing that love physically. Whatever happened, they would make it work.
Belle drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.
X
“Oh.”
Gold looked up on hearing Belle’s exclamation. She had been going through the mail whilst he’d been making breakfast, and he hadn’t been paying all that much attention to her, his mind still firmly reliving the previous night. He felt like it was a turning point in their relationship somehow. He didn’t know why, it wasn’t exactly the first time they’d made love, but there had been something different about it. Something more intense.
He was glad of Dr Hopper’s advice. Belle’s tears after the fact had given him pause for a moment, but he had trusted her when she had said that they were happy tears, and when he had woken this morning, she was still curled up tight by his side with a satisfied smile on her face. There was no hint of regret, and he was pleased that he was not overthinking the situation.
As he brought the omelettes over to the table, he saw what had captured Belle’s attention. She was holding a stiff square of cream card with fancy golden edging to it, and Gold guessed that it was a formal invite to something.
“What’s up?”
“It’s Rory. You remember, my friend from the hospital back in Storybrooke.”
“Yes, I remember.” He had a lot to thank Rory for, really, as the only person in the town who seemed to care about Belle as a person and not a hymen. “What about her?”
“She’s getting married. In April. I mean, I sort of vaguely knew that she was dating Philip, but I hadn’t realised that they were so committed.”
“Well, you can give her my congratulations. I take it that’s the invitation to the wedding.”
Belle nodded. “It’s in Storybrooke at the church, and then the town hall function room afterwards.” She sighed. “Storybrooke.”
They had not made any plans to go back to Storybrooke ever since that disastrous last visit, not even to visit Moe, whom Belle had begun to cut out of her life completely, realising that his worldview was toxic and had made her own life toxic as well. If they went to the wedding, then it would probably be the first time that they would be going back there after all the problems that it had caused.
“We don’t have to go,” he said.
Belle shook her head. “No, I want to go. Rory was one of my best friends in high school and she’s the only real friend from before Boston that I’ve even vaguely kept in touch with. I think I can handle going back for a wedding. Going back for just a visit with no real purpose, perhaps not, but hopefully at a wedding everyone will be more interested in the actual wedding bit than in me and what I’m doing.”
“Well, I’m sure that you don’t have to RSVP right away, there’s time to think it over.” Although he didn’t want to put her off going to her friend’s wedding, Gold really wanted to pre-empt any setbacks in her therapy that the trip might cause. Of course, it was over six months away so it might be a moot point by then, but at the same time, with Belle’s mental state so fragile at the moment, it paid to be cautious.
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s not really going back to Storybrooke that’s making me pause. I just keep thinking about our wedding. That was a Storybrooke wedding and we all know what happened after it. I was so incredibly lucky to have married you, because you were from outside and you understood and took care of me in such a wonderful way; you could offer an outside perspective on all my worries and show me that they were ultimately groundless. But Rory doesn’t have that. She and Philip both grew up in the town and never left; they don’t have the same kind of experience that I do, and I really don’t want her to go through the same horrible chain of thoughts that I did. I want her to have someone who can tell her that it’s all going to be all right, that it’s not going to hurt – well, that it shouldn’t hurt – and that she should absolutely enjoy it, and anyone who tells her otherwise is an idiot. I kind of want to protect her from her upbringing sabotaging her happiness in the same way that you protected me.”
Gold thought about this for a long time, wondering how he could help, but Belle seemed to be on a roll with her thoughts, musing as she ate her omelette. It was good to see that the prospect of going back to Storybrooke did not worry her as much as it might have done before she started therapy, although he didn’t know if she was so focussed on making sure that Rory was going to be all right because she was trying to shy away from her own feelings of fear.
Ultimately, Belle’s feelings were her own, and he could trust her to share them with him if the occasion called for it. He would forever be inordinately grateful to their joint sessions with Dr Hopper for opening up the channels of communication between them and helping to rebuild that trust that had been broken through no fault of their own.
God, the Mother Superior at Storybrooke hospital had a hell of a lot to answer for. If she was at the wedding then Gold didn’t know that he could be trusted not to do her some kind of injury.
“What do you think?”
Gold looked up from his breakfast guiltily, so caught up in thoughts of threatening nuns that he hadn’t been listening to what Belle had been saying.
“Sorry, miles away.”
“I guessed. You were looking very ferocious and I didn’t think that it could be because of the omelette. I swear this is the best one you’ve ever made.”
“Thank you, and no, I was not angry at the omelette. So, what were you saying that I missed?”
“I wanted to write Rory something. Put down all of the fears and things that I had when I started having sex and work through them so that she doesn’t have to feel the same things. These last few months have been such a roller coaster of ups and downs, and whilst the ups have been absolutely wonderful, I wouldn’t wish the downs on my worst enemy, let alone my friend.”
Gold nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.” Maybe putting it all down on paper would help Belle work through it herself, and she could find her own peace by helping Rory to find hers.
The subject was put to the side until they had finished eating and the dishes were in the sink, but Gold could tell that it was still on Belle’s mind, especially when she spoke again.
“Would you… Would you be willing to help me?” Belle was biting her lip again, her cheeks pink. Talking about sex still did not come naturally to her, but she was getting better at opening up every day.
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
“Well, I’d like to use your car analogy for a start.” Belle smiled. “Considering that you just thought it up on the spot that first morning, it really helped me, and since Philip used to work in the garage, I think it might be useful for him as well as for Rory.”
Gold laughed. “You’re welcome to use any of my analogies that you like. And if, at any point, you feel like you need some more practical experience of the things that you’re describing…” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Belle batted his arm playfully before giving a little sigh – not quite content, but not quite worried either.
“I hope that Rory and Philip end up with a marriage like ours,” she said.
“I’m sure that with your help, they will.” Gold leaned over to peck a kiss to her cheek, and Belle leaned into his touch.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, that’s my goal. Although…”
“Yes?”
“Well, you did mention getting a bit more practical experience… Maybe I’m not fully qualified to write anything down just yet.”
Gold just kissed her, her tongue finding his enthusiastically. He could foresee them having quite a lot of fun whilst seeking to help and educate Rory and Philip.
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sicklilspidey · 5 years
Text
I Love You 3000 (appendicitis)
It's currently Saturday afternoon and Peter had nothing better to do than sit on the couch and watch movies with his sister Morgan. Peter absolutely loved days like this, between his patrolling and training with his dad, he felt like he didn't spend as much time as he would like with his little sister. Peter started thinking about when he was her age and how different his life was back then. Don't get him wrong, he loves his life now with the Stark's but sometimes he missed his real parents. He also missed his aunt May but knew she had his best interests in mind when she gave Tony full parental rights over him.
“ Look bubba, he touched the butt” morgan said laughing, which snapped peter out of his thoughts. They were watching finding nemo for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. Peter couldn't help but giggle at how enthusiastic Morgan was. Suddenly he got a sharp pain in his stomach which caused him to hiss. It caught morgans attention.
“Are you okay bubba” she asked sympathetically. “Yeah, bug im fine, dont worry about me” he responded trying to reassure her. 
“I'm not a bug, you are” she giggled. “ no silly, it was just a nickname, but you're not technically wrong” he laughed, even though he was still in pain.
“ I think im gonna go get some food, do you want anything” he asked. “ POPCORN” morgan yelled. Peter had never heard here say something that excitedly and he couldn't help but smile. While he was in the kitchen, he searched through the cabinets looking for something to soothe the throbbing in his gut.
“Can I help you find something” the voice made peter jump. 
“Woah kid, i didn't mean to startle you” tony said through his laughter.
 “Dad, you know not to sneak up on me” peter said, face red with embarrassment.
"Your spidey senses off or something” tony asked while ruffling his son's hair.
 “Stooooop, and i don't know, maybe they're just being slow because im tired” peter whined. 
“How could you be tired, all you've done today is watch nemo a thousand times” tony replied.
 “Hey, in my defense it's a good movie” Peter said as they both laughed.
 "Back to my original question since we got off topic. What were you looking for" Tony asked. Peter hesitated. He didnt want his dad worrying about him because he had a stupid stomach ache.
 “Just looking for some tums, all the popcorn we've been eating is giving me indigestion” peter replied. ‘Really Peter, indigestion. That's the stupidest lie ever’ he thought to himself. Appearently it wasnt too stupid because Tony seemed to have bought it. 
“Okay, well if that's the case i'd say lay off on the popcorn then” tony said as he walked out of the kitchen.peter knew he couldn't risk getting caught, he had too much going on this coming up week and he couldn't afford a sick day. He made his way back to the living room and plopped onto the couch. 
“ Hey! Wheres my popcorn” he hear morgan say from the floor.
 “Shit, i'm sorry. I totally spaced it” he replied
“Language “ she giggled. Peter dozed off soon after that.  When he woke up it was dark and he noticed morgan wasn't in the room anymore. He also noticed a blanket on himself. 'mom must have put it on me when she got Morgan' he thought. He went to sit help and realized the pain in his stomach was still there and it had worsened. He decided it would be best to sleep it off. 'Maybe if i get a good night's rest in my own bed it will help' he thought. Little did he know, he couldn't have been more wrong. 
When peter woke up to say he was in agony was an understatement. He was in so much pain he didn't want to move, but he knew he had to. He had a show to put on for people so no one knew that he was sick. He decided he'd skip on his morning patrol, which was unusual for him, he just knew not much would happen in the morning. He made his way done to the kitchen and the smell of bacon hit him like a ton of red bricks. 
"Hope your hungry. I've been cooking for two hours to make sure I had enough for tony, Morgan, you, and that monster you call a metabolism" peper laughed as she saw Peter walked through the doorway. Tony and morgan were already at their usual spot at the table.
"Hey, Albert Einstein called and said he wants his hair back" tony said making fun of his son's bed head.
"Good one daddy" morgan laughed.
"Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week" tony said while bowing. Pepper laughed from the kitchen.
When breakfast finally made it to the table, peter couldn't stand to look at it, but he knew he had it eat it. He slowly forced himself to take bite after bite until he was sure no one would ask him any questions. When he was done he went back up to his room to shower, then he crawled back into bed.
The next few days were relatively the same. Peter would wake up wanting to scream because of how bad his stomach was hurting, he'd force himself to eat, throw up after words and repeat the cycle over and over again.
When he woke up on Wednesday morning something was different. The pain in gis stomach moved. It wasn't all over but now it made itself at home on his lower right abdomen. Peter moaned when he got up and did the routine he'd been doing since Sunday morning. He was about to climb in bed after puking his guts out when tony walked in.
"Hey kiddo, steve and Natasha are here and they want to spar. Get your workout gear on and meet me upstairs" he said before leaving again
Peter sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was spar, but he knew he had to keep the act up. So he got up, changed and made his way to the sparring facility upstairs.
"Hey spiderling, glad you could join us" Natasha said, shooting peter a smile. He nodded in response and went to sit next to his dad on the bench.
"Okay, listen up. Natasha, you're with Tony, and kid, you're with me" steve said walking into the facility. Peter wanted to bolt. He knew there was no way this would end well and he was right.
Peter's spidey sense was on the fritz and he was having a hard time concentrating. He knew he got a few hits in but that's all he could recall before Steve hits his right side at full force. Peter was done, he couldn't hide it any longer. He doubled over and started coughing.
"Woah kid, sorry didn't mean to knock the wind outta ya" steve said making his way to peter. When he made it to peter he froze.
"What's going on over there" natasha asked. When she didn't get a response she decided to go see what was happening herself. "Holy shit, tony you better come help your kid. Im calling bruce down here. I'll have him bring a gurney." natasha yelled while running toward the door. So many things were running through Tony's mind but he knew he had to get to his kid. When he made it to Peter, he wasn't expecting such a horrific site. Peter was now on the ground cradling his stomach and next to him was a small puddle of blood. Tony didn't know what to say he just knew he had to leap into action. 
" Friday, call pepper and tell her we need her up here ASAP" tony yelled.
"Already done sir, Ms. Romanoff and Dr. Banner are coming down the hall also sir" friday responded.
Tony picked peter up and rushed him to the door.
"Tony im so sorry i-" steve started but tony cut him off.
"Not now Steve, I have to save my son" he said with tears in his eyes.
Tony met bruce and natasha at the door and laid peters limp body on the gurney. 
"What is going on, friday said you needed m-" pepper stopped talking when she saw peter.
"What happened?" she asked, tearing up.
"I'm not one hundred percent sure yet but my best bet is appendicitis" bruce said before rushing peter to the medbay.
"Mommy what's wrong with him" morgan cried. " its okay sweetie, he's just got an ouchy in his tummy, uncle bruce and daddy are taking him to the medbay, and they'll make peter all better" pepper told her distraught daughter. "Y-you promise" morgan stuttered. " I promise" pepper replied.
Pepper couldn't help but think how she didnt notice something was off with her son.
"I didn't know, i'm so sor-" steve began to say to pepper.
"Save it steve, i've got to get to peter" and with that she picked up morgan and ran to the medbay.
When she got there she saw four doctors hooking peter up to different machines.
" bruce confirmed its his appendix, they're getting him ready for surgery" tony told his wife. " how could we not have noticed. I honestly feel like i've failed as a father" Tony added while starting to tear up again.
"Don't say that! How could we have known. He was keeping it a secret and he did one hell of a job keeping it" pepper said.
The doctors wheeled peter out of the room and into the OR.
"Mommy, where are they taking him" Morgan asked.
"They're gonna go fix your brothers ouchy and make him all better just like I told you" pepper said.
Time began to pass and both Tony and Pepper were becoming impatient. They just wanted to know their son was okay. Just then Bruce walked into the room.
"Is he okay? Did everything go well? Did save my kid?" Tony started spitting out questions left and right.
"Yes, peter is just fine he's in recovery right now and should wake up in about half an hour. If you come with me i'll take you to him." bruce said.
Before they went anywhere, morgan walked up to bruce and said " Thank you for fixing my bubba's ouchy, uncle Bruce". Bruce couldn't help but smile at the five year old.
When they made it to peter, tony was taken back. He's seen the kid in a hospital bed multiple times because of being injured on the job, but this time it was different. Peter looked so small and fragile, like the smallest gust of wind could shatter him into a million pieces.
Soon peter began stirring and he opened his eyes.
"Hey my little spiderling, how are you feeling" pepper asked.
"I've been better" peter mumbled
" ill say, why didn't you tell us you weren't feeling well. I wouldn't have asked you to spar with us." tony said.
"Tony chill out, he's only been awake for a few minutes. The lecturing can wait. Let's be grateful our son is still here" pepper said.
"You're right, im sorry. I'm really happy you're okay" he told peter. Peter nodded in acknowledgement
"Mommy, can i get up there with him" morgan asked. Pepper looked at Peter, who nodded.
"Yes baby, but you have to be careful" she said picking her daughter up. She set her on the bed. Margan careful made her way up to peters face. 
"Don't ever scare me like that again, mister" she said shaking her finger in his face. Peter smiled.
"Im sorry bug, i didn't mean to scare you. I love you" he said to her.
Morgan grabbed Peter's face and smushed hers against it. "I love you 3000" she responded.
"Wait hey, that's our thing" tony said pretending to be shocked. 
Everyone laughed.
It took a few days but peter healed up quick and was back out patrolling and kicking his dad's ass in training.
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our-smooty · 5 years
Text
Flowerbeds and Fertile Soil: Chapter 5
Fandom: Good Omens
Rating: Explicit
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens, )Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer
Tags:  Kidfic, Mpreg kind of, they can choose to present however so idk, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), OCs Galor, parenting, using your snake form to avoid confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, if I missed a tag lemme know
Summary: They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know. Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza –something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them.
Ao3 Link
My Ko-Fi
3 days later, they finally wore each other out. By the end of the last day Crowley was practically incapable of speaking and Aziraphale was a jittering mass of sensation. They stopped when the mutual shaking of their bodies made it nearly impossible to continue. Shortly thereafter, they both fell asleep after a very half-hearted miracle from the demon to clean things up. Crowley couldn’t have cared less himself but knew the angel would be very uncomfortable and upset when the woke up if they didn’t get clean. It was the least he could do, after innumerable orgasms. 
Crowley’s sleep was deep and dreamless which was rare for him. Even all those times when he napped away months and decades there had been frequent strange--sometimes upsetting--dreams that forced him awake. It was probably one of the reasons those naps lasted so long; it was hard to feel rested if you can’t actually rest. But this time Crowley was out like one of Aziraphale’s Heavenly lights for just two days, practically a catnap, and when he woke he felt hazy, but rejuvenated. 
With a satisfied sigh and a great big stretch, Crowley burrowed under to covers, a stupid smile on his face. He felt fantastic, especially since his sleep had let him skip any muscle soreness. All that was left was the pleasant buzzing of a very satisfied libido. Again he reached down to touch his lower belly, something akin to giddy nervousness. Would he know right away? Or would he have to wait like any old human? It wasn’t like there was a president. 
In the end he didn’t spend too much time luxuriating in their bed. Mostly because he could hear Aziraphale downstairs and the idea of getting some morning snuggles--even if it was nearly noon--appealed to him greatly. The getting up and getting dressed part was only a little tricky; even after three days his legs still felt a little wobbly, but in the end he managed it without using a miracle. Comfy clothes in place Crowley made a quick pit stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth, then meandered down the stairs into the living room where he knew Aziraphale would be curled up with a book and a cuppa. 
“Hello dearest,” Aziraphale greeted, setting his book aside to pat the couch beside him. Crowley folded himself into the space and over the angel’s lap. “Did you have a good rest?”
Crowley nodded making a grabbing gesture for Aziraphale’s cup of tea, which he was passed very without complaint. Contrary to his taste in coffee, Crowley liked his tea very sweet and milky, which luckily lined up with his lover’s tastes exactly. He handed the cup back to Aziraphale and nuzzled further into the angel’s shoulder. “Lunch?”
Aziraphale wiggled happily, setting the tea aside with his book and drawing Crowley in closer. “I heard that the pub in town has been getting very fresh produce this summer and have been using it to make the most delicious tea sandwiches.”
“Sounds good angel, they have that cider too, yeah? The kind with ginger in it?” The sandwiches he could take or leave, and usually he’d give his portion to Aziraphale just to watch him enjoy them. Alcohol though was always something he enjoyed. 
“Yes, but I think we should be avoiding that now, shouldn't we?” Crowley frowned in confusion for a few seconds before he groaned. 
“Aziraphale… We don’t even know if its--If I’m--” He was really going to have to get over this inability to talk about it. 
“Still, it’s good to get into the habit, and I’m sure they have some lovely non-alcoholic drinks we can enjoy.”
“We? S’not like you can’t drink,” he groused, fiddling with the buttons on Aziraphale’s waistcoat, thoroughly prepared to throw himself into an epic sulk. 
Aziraphale made a considering noise. “It wouldn’t be fair though, would it? I don’t think I’d feel right, indulging while you can’t.” That made him feel… something. Grateful maybe? Or embarrassed. Either way it calmed him down enough to avert a really moody disaster. Curse Aziraphale for being so attentive and sweet and not giving Crowley any reason to have a really good brood. 
“Fine. But I’m ordering the most expensive, most complicated drink they have. And I might even send it back,” Crowley grumped. Aziraphale giggled and pressed a kiss to the demon’s sleep-mussed hair, which was entirely too pleasant for the simple gesture it was. It made Crowley want to turn into a snake and curl up in the angel’s lap and forget about going for lunch. 
“I wouldn’t expect anything else, my dear. Shall we get ready to go? I’m sure you don’t want to go out in your loungewear.” It was Crowley’s turn to laugh and plant a kiss on the angel’s cheek with an exasperated eye-roll.
“They’re trackies angel, not loungewear. You’re such an old man.” He still didn’t get off the sofa though. “No idea why I want to have your k-kid, to be honest.”
“Love probably has something to do with it,” Aziraphale teased lightly. Crowley grumbled but didn’t deny anything. Not like he could have, with how badly he was blushing. Damn these human corporations and their vascular systems. 
“Shut up,” he groused, snuggling further into the warmth and softness of his lover’s well-worn jacket. “When do you want to leave?” Crowley knew it was best to let the angel set the pace, lest Aziraphale get himself into a tizzy.
Aziraphale considered briefly before nodding decisively. “I think I’d like to remain here for a little while, if that’s alright. I’m enjoying just sitting here with you.”
“Mmm, fine with me. You’re warm.” His snakey nature shone through in moments like this, and Crowley had the secret suspicion that Aziraphale had been gradually increasing his natural body temperature since they had begun living together to cater to his reptilian side. He couldn’t find the will to complain about it. 
“Splendid. We’ll head out in a little bit.” Aziraphale used the hand not around Crowley’s shoulders to reclaim his tea and they took turns sipping. If the tea lasted longer than it really should have between them, Crowley was willing to let it slide because it gave him more time to cuddle up to his angel. Miraculously, the pub would have a large number of tea sandwiches still ready and fresh when they got there, despite the fact they regularly sold out. 
The next 2 months were a flurry of sex, cuddling, and preparation for Pulcifer-Device child number three. They were eventually forced to stop their near-constant state of being in bed or recovering from being in bed to watch Lottie and Annabella while Anathema and Newt made final preparations--and got as much sleep as possible before--their newest addition. Luckily their South Downs cottage was already equipped with a room specially made for the girls and they were both more than prepared to watch them for at least a week at a time. Though they still paniced occasionally becuause raising the Anti-Christ was one thing, especially since they really hadn’t been raising him so much as influence. Taking care of and watching over two little girls who they were invested in was entirely another. 
In the final week before Anathema was due Aziraphale had offered to have Lottie and Bella stay over at the cottage until the baby arrived. Anathema had readily agreed--probably desperate to get some rest before the big day--and Newt had brought them and all of their supplies over. As far as they knew, this was just another fun trip to spend some time with their uncles, and not a brief respite for their parents. Crowley did not envy Anathema and Newt having to deal with two children under 5 all the time.
“Crowley, why are the girls eating ice cream for breakfast?” Aziraphale asked as he strolled into the kitchen on the second day. Both Annabella and Charlotte had heaping servings of chocolate ice cream in front of them, and on them, and on the table. It was an impressive mess. Crowley glanced up from where he’d been scrolling through his phone and shrugged. 
“They asked for it. Figured after the tummy aches set in they’ll never ask again, or this’ll be one of those “fantastic childhood memories” humans like so much.” Aziraphale tutted and snapped, changing the bowls of ice cream to whole wheat pancakes and fruit. Lottie sighed dramatically but didn’t complain too much because the angel had made sure to stack her plate high with strawberries, which were her favourite. Bella on the other hand was only three and did not appreciate her sugary feast being replaced. Crowley saw the subtle chin wobble and furrowing of her tiny brow and immediately glared at Aziraphale. 
“Big mistake angel,” he drawled just as she took in a  deep breath. Aziraphale gave him a confused look before the situation seemed to strike him all at once. It was too late though, because in the next second she let out an ear-piercing screech that could have rivalled Beezlebub on a bad day. “At least the ice cream was keeping them quiet.”
“You can't give children pure sugar for breakfast, Crowley! It’s not good for them and I would expect you to know better!” Aziraphale near-shouted, wringing his hands this way and that as he hovered around his youngest god-daughter. Lottie was still calmly eating her strawberries and making a mess out the pancakes by squishing them up and pushing them off the plate. It was a far cry from the peace Crowley had created with the ice cream.
“You think I didn’t miracle away most of the sugar and other gunk before giving it to them? I’m not an amateur Aziraphale.” Crowley rolled his eyes and stood, procuring a can of whipped cream from thin air and dolloping a fair-sized amount on each girl's portion. Almost immediately Bella began to quiet, but Crowley wasn’t finished. “Use your words, Bella. What do you say to Uncle Aziraphale and your sister?”
She squirmed and pouted before relenting. “Sorry for yelling.”
“Good, now finish your breakfast and then we can go to the park yeah?” She nodded happily and began to dig into her food. “And Charlotte for Somebody's sake stop making a mess and just eat your food. You aren’t a baby and you don’t need to mush it up, do you?”
Aziraphale watched with wide eyes as Crowley completely diffuse the situation he had created. The demon could feel his nervous, unsure energy from across the room. He vanished the whipped cream--because he knew his god-daughters well enough not to trust them around it without close supervision--and gave the angel a pat on the shoulder. “S’not good to spring stuff on them like that angel. Besides, it’s gonna be confusing enough for them when the baby shows up, might as well let them have some fun.”
“I didn’t think--I’m sorry dear.” Aziraphale physically deflated. “I’m rubbish with children, aren’t I?”
Crowley sighed and pulled Aziraphale into his side, not trapping him in a hug just in case Bella’s screaming earlier had been too overwhelming. “You just need some practise angel. We can work on it.”
“No more sugary stuff for breakfast though, alright dear? Even if you do make it healthier, I don’t want them going back homing and demanding sweets.” Crowley supposed that was fair, though he might still sneak the girls a little something when Aziraphale wasn’t looking. It was only right, especially with how busy Anathema and Newt would be with the new baby over the next few months. 
“Sure. Are you coming to the park with us?” Crowley asked, nuzzling into Aziraphale’s jawline and taking in a big whiff of that familiar sunlight and book glue smell. Normally Crowley could do this for hours, basking in the fact that he was allowed to do something as absurd as sniff his angel now, but this time there was something wrong. Aziraphale smelled off and bad and Crowley jerked back, automatically throwing a hand over his mouth while sprinting to the sink. 
“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, voice dripping with concern. “Crowley, what’s wrong?”
At the table, Charlotte and Annabella looked up from their breakfasts with wide eyes. “Uncle Azi is Uncle Crowley alrigh--ahh!” Bella screamed as Crowley heaved over the kitchen sink and threw up the coffee he’d had for breakfast. And then the remnants of the chips he’d stolen from Aziraphale’s plate the night before. And then, when there was nothing left, he kept retching and retching until he could taste the bitter-poison taste of bile coat his tongue.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale said again, rushing over and holding back the demon’s hair to prevent any more sick getting stuck in it. “Oh goodness, what happened? Are you ill; can demons even get sick? Tell me what to do!”
“Ngk--shhhh” Crowley hissed, spitting the last of the sick in his mouth out into the sink and gagging at the smell. “M’fine, need water.” Immediately there was a glass of ice cold water being thrust into his hand and fluttering hands combing through his hair. The water helped with the bad taste and with the strange, unexpected nausea, but I didn't do anything for the sudden dizziness he felt. “Think I’m… I’m gonna pass out..”
The edges of his vision began to fade out as his ears began to ring. Faintly he could hear Bella and Lottie’s upset little voices talking over Aziraphale’s equally panicked one, followed by a firm grip keeping him mostly upright and the shattering of glass. Angel’s could be strong, when they needed to be. Crowley sagged into Aziraphale’s arms bonelessly and completely out of it. He wasn’t sure if seconds or minutes had passed but eventually things began to calm down and right themselves. His vision came back--when everything had gone fully black and reddish he wasn’t sure--and he could distinctly hear the sound of Aziraphale asking Lottie to get him Crowley’s cell phone from the table. It sounded like the angel was about to call someone, but who? 999 wasn’t exactly equipped to deal with occult beings passing out in their kitchens. 
“Zzzzira?” he slurred, wondering when they had gotten on the floor. “Wha’happened?”
“I’m not sure dear,” Aziraphale’s voice was shaking, clearly terrified. “You were throwing up and then you just… you just fainted. How are you feeling now?”
It was still difficult to string thoughts together, but Crowley knew he needed to for Aziraphale and the girls. “Hot, kinda sick. You smelled… wrong. Who’re you calling?”
“I-I’m not sure. I thought maybe one of our friends, Madame Tracy is a bit of a Jack of All Trades, she might know what to do…”
“Absolutely not. She’ll bring Shadwell and I don’t think I can deal with him right now,” he groaned, wiggling into a sitting position. “I’m already feeling better angel, I’m OK.”
“Uncle Crowley?” a tiny voice to his left called out. Both girls stood back a few feet, clutching at each other and looking entirely too worried. If Crowley thought worrying Aziraphale was bad, he was entirely unprepared for the way those scared faces made him feel. 
“Come’ere,” he said, opening his arms so they could each bury themselves in one of his shoulders. Aziraphale leaned in too, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s waist and pulling him close to his chest. “I’m alright, sorry I scared you.”
“You threw up and passed out Crowley, I wouldn’t call that alright in any sense of the word,” Aziraphale murmured into his hair. “Can you tell me what happened, at least?”
Crowley thought for a bit, idly twisting and playing with the girls’ hair. “I was OK and then I smelled you and it made me feel sick, and then I was on the floor,” he explained, starting a more complicated braid in Lottie’s hair. “You didn’t smell any different than normal but it was just… not good.”
Behind him Aziraphale hummed. “I still think we should call someone.” Crowley grunted and refused to respond, hoping that if he didn’t acknowledge it that Aziraphale would drop the idea. Besides, he felt fine now, maybe a little weak, but in general ok. In front of him Bella squirmed out of his grip, wrinkling her nose at the smell from the sink. 
“It’s like mummy,” she said, pinching her nose. Both Crowley and Aziraphale’s head snapped towards her. 
“What do you mean, sweety?” 
Bella made a face and stuck her tongue out in disgust. “Mummy got sick, when the baby was starting to grow in her tummy.” Suddenly, everything clicked into place and Crowley’s stomach dropped and fluttered at the same time. Aziraphale went inhumanly still at his back; no breathing, no heartbeat.
“Morning sickness…” Crowley wheezed, the plait he was working on slipping from his fingers. “Makes sense, the sensitivity to smells, the sick, the dizziness.”
“Does it?” Aziraphale squeaked. Crowley laughed a little, surprised at how out-of-depth the angel sounded. 
“Didn’t you watch over Eve in the Garden?”
“Yes but--!” Aziraphale blustered. “I didn’t ask about those things Crowley, that would have been rude!”
“Oh of course,” Crowley intoned. The only reason he didn’t roll his eyes was because he was worried it might make him dizzy again. “Wouldn’t want to ask anything inappropriate.”
“Quite.” They fell silent again outside of Bella’s continued complaints about the smell. “Wait does this mean you’re--?”
“Yup,” Crowley answered his voice wobbling up and down in a distinctly freaked-out way. “Also, I need you to get a bucket, cause I’m pretty sure I’m about to get sick everywhere again in about 10 seconds.”
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the-fiction-witch · 5 years
Text
Adventure
REAL LIFE:
COUPLE: TBS X READER
RATING: ADORABLE!!!
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I woke, to the sounds of the birds tweeting outside my window likely grabbing little seeds from the bird feeder outside my bedroom window or in there little nests in the back garden tree. the gentle almost unnoticeable sound of the electronics on standby slightly humming in the quiet. I could hear the clinking of the tap dripping in the bathroom, as well as the ticking or the clock on the bedside table.
I felt the warm duvet Hugging me close the soft fresh cotton still slightly smelling of the lavender and Lilly laundry detergent and softener it was washed on yesterday, my little cotton shorts and shirt hugging me close to keep me warm as autumn was on its way and the nights where getting chilly.
My hair was in my eyes a little with the gentle scent of apple from my shampoo last night.
I opened my eyes them feeling stiff and heavy looking to the bedside table.
The light oak wood with swirls and knots looking so pretty, my little pink hymilayan salt lamp slightly glowing where light from my window was hitting it perfect thought a gap In The curtains, my little pink tinted glass having a small amount of water left from last night it sitting on a coaster that said something I don't really remember, I smiled a little seeing my phone I checked it no messages nothing important but my lock screen looking so sweet when I'm barely awake.
The picture of me and Thomas cuddles up by the Southend beach in the summer sun a few weeks ago.
I put my phone down and glanced around the white and grey room seeing the curtains on the window not pulled properly, our little cat Luke sat on the radiation warming his fluffy tummy his tail moving back and forth as he nuzzled close to it, the bedroom door slightly open for the cats and the bathroom door open where somebody naming no names went in the night and triped over trying to get back to bed in the darkness.
I was suddenly forced from my dreamy state by a very loud
'bleeep! Bleeep! BLEEEP!' getting louder and louder from the other half of the bed
I yawned stretching my arms above my head one hitting the headboard so I turned over and smiled
Thomas laid fast asleep, the loud alarm meaning nothing to him to deep on his sleep to even hear it. He laid mostly on his back but turned slightly to cuddle his pillow, his head nuzzled close to the red pillow case his long hair a mess where he had tossed and turned in his sleep his light grey shirt hugged him snuggly his faded blue boxer shorts where fairly lose as they where fairly old now and the elastic was starting to go his morning wood sitting peacefully up towards his stomach slightly on his right not bothering him as he wasn't awake yet, his hands gripped his pillow tightly he must have had a nightmare in the night unfortunately becoming quite common these days, his face blank and expressionless lost in his dreams is eyes still peacefully closed his gentle breaths making a slight wheezing sound slightly moving his skinny chest with his breaths his facial hair fairly long now as he hadn't shaved now in weeks longer now then even when he was away for godless, I originally hated it but I had gotten use to it And I do think it looks nice, plus he's happy.
I sat up a little in bed moving my hair from my eyes seeing his bedside table,
The same oak wood as mine, his phone on charge on the corner fairly far from him, his little lamp still illuminated it looks like a moon and the light makes it look like a full moon in the sky he's left it on alot when he sleeps these days not sure why, his little slightly see thought green lighter on the table humm I'll keep an eye on that, he promised he'd stop smoking in bed I'm pretty sure his rolling tobacco was on the window sill as I was fine with him doing it by the window just not in bed I'm scared he'll ash and set the bed on fire or something, I spotted a little purple wrapper on his table ripped open the used condom from the packet stuffed back inside the torn wrapper slightly leaking what I hoped was the packets lube onto the table, his little clock shaped like a motorcycle with the clock in one wheel and the temperature and humidity of the room in the other still loudly bleeping so I shut it up, hu? It's fourteen degrees, not to cold I suppose, just as his phone lit up jack Sent him a message about something I don't know bike stuff probably and I smiled seeing his lock screen not something I often see as Thomas doesn't use his phone very much, even less since we moved in together it was us a little while ago I don't remember when exactly or where we where the picture didn't show any of it just me smiling widely with him kissing my cheek it was Candid for sure I don't even remember it, perhaps it's an old one from when we hadn't been dating long I moved and laid down in bed again watching him still faster asleep.
I shuffled forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips I slightly giggled still not used to kissing him when it's any more then stubble, he shifted in bed lightly kissing back till I pulled away
"Good morning Thomas" I smiled he kept shifting a little clearly already noticed his own morning wood his nose scrunching up in that cute little way he always does
"Uugghhmmm..." He groans unhappily turning over away from me pulling the duvet up to be over his shoulder and tucked under his chin and I giggled giving him a cuddle slightly spooning him
"Come on Thomas it's waking up time" I smiled
"Ughmmm no..." He groans sleepily "let me sleep y/n"
"No, come on you promised you'd start waking up with your alarm" I smiled
"Five more minutes" he pleads
"Okay" I sighed "I will go make you a coffee, you have till I get back to be sat up and awake Mr" I warn giving his cheek a kiss and getting up wrapping my silky nightie around my body and walking down the stairs using the last banister to turn me to the kitchen having to avoid all thomas' shirts and jackets just hung on the stairs going into the kitchen the cold floor hurting my feet as I walked to the coffee machine putting thomas' star wars death star mug under the machine as it made his coffee I made myself some tea and as soon as it was done I walked up stairs pushing our door open with my foot where it had closed on itself and Thomas was sat up rubbing his face looking like he sat up when he heard me coming up the stairs he saw me and outstretched his arms doing grabby hands towards his mug like a baby for its bottle I handed it to him getting back in my side of our bed tucking the duvet around me tightly as I sipped my tea
"Ohh that's good, thank you darling" he smiled waking up now he had had some coffee
"Your welcome sleepy head" I smiled resting my head on his shoulder as I had some more tea "how did you sleep?" I ask
"Alright" he shrugs "I was only up...four times tonight"
"That's better" I smiled giving his cheek a kiss "it will be okay soon as these nightmares pass"
"I know, atleast your here to keep me safe" he smiled kissing my head
"So what do you wanna do today?" I ask him as I put my empty mug down
"Can we maybe... Just go for a drive?" He suggests
"To where?" I ask
"Anywhere" he shrugs "just drive and see where we end up"
"Like a little adventure" I smiled
"Yes darling, an adventure" he smiled putting his empty mug down and hugging me close "I love you so very much"
"Aww I love you too Thomas"I laughed Hugging him tightly too.
Once we where all sorted out we went and got in thomas' car he drove of course as he never lets anyone else drive his car, we started up and went off down the busy London streets, after a while I tried to hold his hand but he moved away
"I would darling, but this is rush hour London traffic, I need to concentrate" he explained
"Okay" I said sadly
"As soon as we are out of town darling I will, I need both hands to drive especially when there are stupid people everywhere, I'm going up and down the gears like a bloody jack rabbit" he sighed "hey, I would hold your hand if I could darling" he smiled
"I know" I smiled blowing him a little kiss he blushed a little and did back to me as he drove, until atlast we got out the busy bits of London and he smiled taking my hand interwining our fingers his thumb rubbing on the back if my hand he moved my hand a little so our hands sat on his thigh as he drove so he was close to the wheel and gears I'd be had to do anything suddenly "I love you darling" he smiled
"I love you too Thomas" i smiled giving his hand a kiss and he gave mine one too
"Come on let's get adventuring" he smiled resting our hands back in his thigh as we drove off somewhere else for a while.
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