#ignore them & finish whatever I'm doing at my own pace & pull away when I'm done

[saphirered]

Heyo! Saw you wanted some individual character requests! I'm a sucker for Grog, and there isn't enough out there for him, so I was wondering if you could do a Grog x Sorceress!reader where the reader doesn't think grog would have a reason to like her since she isn't a melee fighter. Thank you so much!

P.s. Your writing is amazing, and I always love reading your works! ❤️

Thank you for the request! I'm glad you like my writing and hope you enjoy this one! Turned out a bit longer than I intended but that means more content. Anyway, Enjoy! 😘

Seated on the stone balustrade feet dangling over the edge looking over the city in front of you you twiddle your thumbs. You needed a moment away from everyone to sort your mind on your own. There’s a solitude in the dark clouds looming above and the first drops of rain signalling an oncoming storm and it’s never failed you before. Even while there’s no one around, you can confide in such storms knowing your words will be heard but carried away upon the wind and drowned out by the rain and thunder. A good storm won’t judge or hold a grudge. It will simply accept and listen. So here you’ll stay speaking your worries into the abyss and hope for some clarity or ease of mind and heart.

Back inside Grog sits on one side of the table, Scanlan at the other. They hold their respective tankards at the ready as the gnome counts down. By the end of the countdown they swing back their drinks finishing them as fast as they can being cheered on by the rest of Vox Machina and other witnesses to this drinking game. Grog’s determined to win this. While he’s pretty sure his tankard is actually a bucket with a handle, it’s more to scale compared to the gnome’s. Ale spills over the sides of Scanlan’s drink but Grog keeps it neat. No wasting ale after all.

With one last big chug Grog finishes the drink, slams it down on the table roaring in victory as the table shakes beneath his hit. Scanlan puts the remainder of his drink down on the table wiping his face disappointed. Grog looks around the crowd. Some are happy celebrating with him, others pass over money to the happy people for paying up on whatever amount they lost in their bets. How could they even consider Scanlan would win. He’s the best of the best after all and no one can out drink the all mighty Grog. He doesn’t spot you among the crowd and the victory doesn’t feel as sweet anymore. He really hoped you could have seen this one. Where had you gone?

Before Grog can get up and go find you he’s given a refill and the next challenger approaches. New bets are placed, Vex massages his shoulders giving him a pep talk and noting how he’s been making her a lot of money so better keep it up. He doesn’t want to disappoint his friends. One more game. Then he’ll go find you wherever you went.

The next game comes along, and another, and another but he’s done. No more games. When another challenger approaches and the game starts he doesn’t pick up the tankard and pushes away from the table. People ask him what the hell he’s doing but he ignores them. They’ve kept him long enough so he just up and walks before they can stop him. Grog leaves the room but Pike follows behind him worried for her buddy. He never refuses a good ale or a challenge, let alone the two combined.

“Grog? Grog, wait up!” Pike rushes after him leaving the banquet hall behind. Determined Grog still keeps walking but slows down his pace enough to let Pike catch up with him.

“Where are you going? There’s still plenty of ale to be drunk!” Pike reaches for the goliath’s hand to pull him to a stop. He does and turns to face Pike.

“I think I’ve had enough.” Grog says and Pike gasps. Never, never does Grog think he’s had enough to drink. Something must be wrong with him. Is he ill? Does he have a fever? Did someone poison her buddy’s drink? She might go on a war path if someone did and ruined his fun! But Grog seems okay. Physically that is. He’s fine.

“Do you know where she went?” Grog asks, maybe Pike can help him find you and maybe she can talk to you why you left. He doesn’t think you’d want to talk to him about that kind of stuff and while he’d consider himself a good listener, if something’s really up Pike always knows what to do. She can help.

“Who?”

“The pretty sorceress.” Grog states as a matter of fact and it is. Anyone who dares say otherwise clearly need some of those glass thingies Percy keeps on his nose and make him look smart.

“Oh, I don’t know Grog. She left to go get some fresh air.” Pike searches her mind to see where you might have gone. There’s a few places that come to mind but it’s all narrowed down to just the one when thunder rumbles through the sky. She knows exactly where you went and by the looks of it so does Grog.

Grog knows there’s only one place you really love to watch a storm unfold. You’ve told him before and you’ve even watched some storms together there. He shares a look with Pike and picks up his step going where he knows you’ll be, still dragging pike behind. When she doesn’t move fast enough he swings her up on his shoulders, running up the steps as far as they’ll take him, dodging a torch and pushing aside a guard here and there.

Then around the corner he sees you. Feet dangling over the edge, a single push away from what could possibly be a death drop, hand outstretched catching the rain with a sad smile on your face. You’re absolutely gorgeous. More alluring than anyone ever could. If he could paint, Grog would make sure this moment would be captured for eternity just so he would never forget. Maybe he can get some money from Vex to hire a painter? If Scanlan did it, why shouldn’t he?

You’re seated alone at the top of the tower. Lightning flashes through the clouds, sometimes branching down to strike the ground be it mountain or forest, you’re in a valley of safety surrounded by the storm. The drops of rain hit your outstretched arm extended beyond the cover of the overhanging. Cold as they are to the touch you watch them glide around your arm with movement until they too, continue their descend.

“…Sometimes I wish I would just have the courage but I don’t.” You speak into the skies. A burst of lightning strikes in the mountains, the sound echoing and even this high up you can feel the slight tremor of the ground. You know a storm is no sentient being but you read it like a reply no less and continue.

“I’m not a fighter. I don’t know how to wield a sword or an axe. I can barely lift one. We have such vastly different lives. Grog’s got no reason to like me in any way.” Thunder strikes again you smile briefly. You’ve come to terms you’ll always like Grog and your feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. The only reason you’re even spending time together in the first place is because you’re both involved with Vox Machina in one way or another. You’ve got hardly anything in common so if you hadn’t met through them Grog probably wouldn’t even have thought about you twice.

That may sound sad and you’re thankful for getting to know him but Grog has his own life and interests so why should he bother indulging you in yours. He’s already not a big fan of magic and you won’t bother attempting to teach him. It’s not like it’s any interesting stuff and he’d probably be bored out of his mind the entire time. Then again, the theoretics of magic might just not be your strong suit either. It’s more of a natural born gift.

Grog gets this weird feeling in his chest as if he’s been hit by something and it’s being twisted. Kind of like when he got shot by an arrow and Pike had to remove it. It’s not a good feeling. Checking for injury just to make sure he’s fine. It’s clear to him he feels this on the inside; his heart bleeds a little for you. You shouldn’t think that way. He likes you. He likes you a lot actually so you couldn’t be more wrong. Pike nudges him to set her down. He does as they remain around the corner, leaving you unaware of their presence.

“Go talk to her.” Pike whispers and Grog panics for a brief second. How is he even supposed to do this? What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t know how this psychology stuff works. That’s what Pike’s for. If people feel sad they often come to her, talk about their worries and problems and then they feel better. How’s he supposed to do that? He’s not Pike.

“She needs you, Grog. I know you like her and she needs you. Go talk to her.” Pike nudges him on into your direction. The goliath isn’t physically moved by her effort but he does move. If Pike says you need him, if you really need him then he’ll be there. Looking over his shoulder one last time to ask Pike for some advise she’s already half way down the stairs leaving you with him. Grog thinks hard for a moment but thinking isn’t his strong suit either so he’ll do what he always does; face the problem head on.

A throat clears behind you and you almost slip from the fright it gave you. A heavy step rushes forward and an arm wraps around your waist pulling you back before you can fall. You’d have spells to save you in case you did fall but you’d rather not and are grateful for your valiant saviour. The bare arm wrapped around your waist is covered in tattoos, markings and scars and engulfs the majority of your middle. It doesn’t take a fool to know this arm belongs to Grog Strongjaw himself.

Flustered you allow the goliath to pull you back onto solid ground and off the balustrade entirely before he lets go of you, making sure you’re right on your feet. How much of your conversation with the skies did he hear? Did he hear anything at all? Grog steps back and stares at his boots. He doesn’t only appear to be more embarrassed than you feel but also apologetic.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please don’t fall again and please don’t be angry at me.” Grog closes his eyes tightly afraid you might be mad at him as he was the cause of you almost experiencing a death drop. You’re basically gods but if we’ve learned anything from Keyleth; that doesn’t save you from a splat.

You step forward grab one of his hands in yours drawing his attention. With your index finger you tilt his chin up just enough so he’s looking at you and not over you. These gestures are enough for Grog to open his eyes. When there’s no look of anger on your face the tension in his body falls away just slightly. There’s still some rigidness from nerves but he’s closer to usual Grog.

“Chin up, big guy. You saved me too. I’m not mad.” You smile and the smile is returned. The air is still somewhat awkward so you decided you best get this over with and clear it up.

“How much did you hear?” You ask. The blush rushing to Grog’s cheeks and frantic glancing around to make sure no one else is here to witness it tells you he heard enough.

With a deep sigh you step back to the balustrade sitting down upon it once more but now to face Grog instead of the sky, your hair blowing lightly in the breeze, the rain and occasional illuminated sky behind you leave him staring yet again forgetting your question. He’s just captivated but you calling his name snaps him out of it. Saved it. Still got it. As long as he doesn’t turn to ‘drunk Keyleth’ levels he’ll consider it a win.

“I-uhhhh…. Why don’t you think I like you?” Grog twiddles his thumbs rocking back and forth from his tiptoes to his heels in anticipation of your answer. He knows he heard you tell the sky but he wants to be sure because if he gave you any reason to believe he didn’t like you, he did do something wrong. He’ll pick you over any of those other fools down stairs. He might just even pick you over the best ale. He’d already picked you over the ale he’d been offered. If that isn’t testament to his fondness of you, then what is?

“Ah, so you did hear that. I just- I think-. Ugh, why is this so hard?” You try to express your reasons but words are difficult and feelings even more so to describe yet still you try. Grog waits patiently either way.

“Do you think we would have been friends were it not for our lives being tied together as they are now?” You ask the dreaded question. You don’t even know if you really want the answer afraid that it may break any semblance of hope you had somewhere in your mind. Grog’s brow furrows, deep in thought but mostly confusion.

“Of course we would be. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Because I’m not like you. I’m not a fighter. I stay back with my spells and incantations while you run in axe swinging taking down anyone in your path. I read while you train. I sit around in my tower watching the skies while you go out and drink the town dry looking for a fight to enjoy. I could never do what you do and I do not dare to assume you’d have any interest in doing what I do.” The thoughts and feelings find words. A tension lifts from your chest like a breath you didn’t know you were holding just by speaking your mind to the goliath in question.

Grog knows damn well you’re not a fighter in the traditional sense. No steel or arrows for you but that does not mean you’re not a fighter in your own right. If he’s learned anything a fighter comes in many shapes and forms and you fit the description perfectly. You’ve shown determination and strength, courage against all odds and immense skill. You are a fighter.

“When I run into danger kicking ass who’s had my back every time?” Grog asks. There’s a harshness and authority in his voice indicating he’s leading somewhere and you better answer.

“We all have-“ Grog cuts you off.

“No. You have had my back every time.” He corrects. “Who comes watch me train, throwing spells to keep me on my toes? Who does it while reading her books completing not one but two tasks at the same time?”

“I do.” You admit.

“And who helps me kick ass in bar fights? Who cheers me on or joins me in any gamble or drinking game? Who is the best drinking buddy? You are. Now, who spends time with you watching storms whenever they occur up here in the tower or anywhere else?”

“You… do…” Grog’s right.

“I like to spend time with you because I like you. I don’t care you don’t swing an axe. That firestorm you do works just the same and looks way more badass. I’m not the smartest but I know two of the same are not always useful and can be too much. What are you going to do with two when you only need one. You need difference so they compitry- complitarity- colmpli-“ Grog struggles with that word. He’s heard Percy use it in a similar context but why is it such a difficult word to recall. He still tries and just hopes you’ll get what he’s trying to say.

“Complimentary?” You ask. You fear Grog might get himself a migraine if he tries any harder. You still don’t think that’s the correct use of the word but you get it. He’s trying to lift your spirits and it’s working.

“That one. Yes. Complimentary. I don’t just like you, I love you for who you are. You’re special and being different makes you special.” Grog admits he tries to fight the heat rising to his cheeks from admitting what he did but when he sees your smile grow, that’s enough to push his pride aside and let it be. Maybe he can do this thing Pike usually does after all? Maybe not unless it’s you. When he tells you he loves you he means it. When he has to say it to the likes of Vax he’d rather eat his own boots for lunch.

You gesture with your hand and beckon the goliath over to come closer. You rise to stand on the edge of the balustrade and wrap your arms around Grog’s neck holding him close. You feel his arms wrap around you in turn and pull you closer to where your feet barely touch the stone.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” You pull back to look Grog in the eyes as he still holds onto you and take his cheeks between your hands giving him a quick kiss. Grog’s eyes light up and lifts you up higher offering you a kiss of his own. Sweet and short and filled with glee. He sets you back down on your feet but doesn’t let go of you yet.

“Do you want to go back downstairs? Last I checked there was a drinking game going on? Should we show them what we’re made off?” You grin and the proud look on Grog’s face tells you enough to know exactly what you’re talking about.

“Let me tell you the tale of my grand victories-“ Grog starts as he begins leading you back down the stairs, arm wrapped around your shoulders pulling you into his side as you walk.

[lovinkiri]

If The Roles Were Reversed || One

UA!Dabi x Reader

UA!Shigaraki x Reader

UA!Toga x Reader

UA!Twice x Reader

UA!Compress x Reader

Author's Thoughts: Okay so I was just thinking, what if the LOV were seniors in UA, and emotionally stable enough to not be villains, and ekvekbd

Warning: Swearing, Scratching, etc.

EVERYONE IS 18+

Touya Todoroki (Dabi)

People couldn't help but stare at the two of you. You knew it was because of your boyfriend though, who was used to the stares by now.

"What happened to him?"

"They really let guys like that in the hero course? Look at the scarred face."

"The whole course looks like a group of villians, I'm not surprised."

You went to speak out. I mean, it wasn't his fault his quirk was self destructive. Though he was taking courses in Quirk Control, the scars he'd gotten before enrolling in UA stuck.

But before you could utter a word, Dabi sighed and wrapped an arm around you, giving the gossips a look that could scare a pro.

"Don't worry about it, babe. It's alright. I just wish they'd say it to my ugly scarred face." He spoke loudly and sarcastically, raising his voice even more towards the end.

You huff and glare at the already scared freshmen. "I just wish they'd take a look in the mirror themselves."

And now they were scared and offended.

You look back to Dabi and sigh. "You know you're sexy, right Touya?" You raise an eyebrow, Dabi snickering at how serious the question was asked.

"Can't look that bad if I've got such a cute little thing on my arm." He smirked, watching as you immediately got flustered.

"Y-Yeah, c'mon." You pull him to class, Dabi chuckling.

Upon entering the classroom, he immediately looked to Shigaraki. "Hey, Crusty."

Shigaraki glared at the Dabi. "Morning, Crispy."

With Shigaraki, you let it slide. You knew this was their way of being friendly to each other. Then Toga came bounding over, hugging you from behind.

"Hi, Touya! Morning, Y/n!" She grinned. Dabi scoffed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It's Dabi."

"You let Y/n call you Touya!"

"Are you Y/n?"

"No.."

"Okay then, Crazy."

"Crazy?!"

You laugh and smile. It was never boring, being with Dabi.

Tomura Shigaraki

"Tomura!"

He sighed and looked at you, drowning out the rest of the hero course. You walked over with your lunch and plopped down next to him, slapping his hand away from his neck. "You're scratching again. I know it's a bad habit but-"

Tomura rose an eyebrow, wondering what caused your silence. Then he followed your gaze to his hands.

Before he could speak, you broke out into a grin. "You got your new gloves! Now we can hold hands!"

Sighing once more, he shrugged. "I don't get why its such a big deal. You were more excited than I was."

He was lying. He was secretly just as excited. The thought of holding your hands, running his fingers through your hair, holding you without having to be careful of his fingers. He couldn't wait.

You kissed his cheek and laid your head against his shoulder. "Can we hold hands later?" You asked looking up at him with irresistible eyes.

"You don't have to ask, you know." He grumbled as he wrapped an arm around you. The rest of the hero course let out either genuine or sarcastic awww's.

"Its not fair. How did Shigaraki start dating before any of us?" Toga asked with a pout. Dabi snorted in laughter. "They like 'em crusty and flaky."

Tomura glared at him. "Better crusty than charred and burnt." He retaliated.

Dabi gave a lazy grin. "Oi, I'm not burnt. I'm crispy."

The entire table, not including Tomura, devolved into laughter. Tomura rolled his eyes, laying his cheek against the top of your head. "Idiots. They're all idiots."

You smiled. "Please. You love 'em."

"Tch. Whatever." He huffed.

Himiko Toga

You waited by the school gates patiently for Himiko. You knew she was probably getting some new upgrades to her hero costume, so you didn't mind.

"Y/n, Y/n!"

You turned and Himiko jumped into your arms. Thankfully, you were able to wrap your arms around her and steady yourself. This wasn't the first time so you had practice.

Grinning, she wrapped her arms around your neck. "Hey, your reflexes are getting better!" She pointed out.

You smiled and chuckled in at the remark. "Thank to you. You seem more excited than usual."

"Oh yeah! I got this awesome new upgrade." She said proudly. Pulling away from the embrace and instead holding your hand, she started to pull you along.

"Yeah? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head. Himiko proceeded to go into a detailed ramble about her upgrade, her free hand making exaggerated motions.

You couldn't help but admire how her eyes seemed got so much brighter. It was obvious she was excited to test it out.

Others who weren't used to seeing you guys around stared, but minded their business as you glared at them. You weren't gonna let anyone bring her down. Knowing people already whispered about how odd she seemed in the school hallways, you'd decided she didn't need to hear that outside of school too.

"And so it'll be easier to shift between forms!" She finished, looking at you, looking for your approval.

Kissing her cheek, you chuckled. "That sounds amazing. And it was your idea?" You grinned as she enthusiastically nodded. "Yeah! Of course, you inspired me! Remember last week when you said it'd been cool if I could switch between forms more freely?"

Your expression morphed into confusion. "Huh? That was a month ago."

She shrugged. "A week, a month, a year! It's all the same!"

Laughing softly, you nodded. "Sure, Himiko."

Jin Bubaigawara (Twice)

Jin smiled as you pulled his mask on, trying to nuzzle into your hands.

"Jin- I can't get it on when you do that." You chuckled, a smile tugging at your own lips. "I don't see why you couldn't put your own mask you."

"Because I like it when you're near me! Stop asking questions." He responded, pulling you closer by your lower back.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you quickly pecked his lips before fully getting the mask on. "You a sweetheart, you know that?"

He nodded. "I know!" Then quickly shook his head. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Right. Well, be careful at training today. I think they're gonna make you fight Dabi." You warned. You knew Jin was strong but Dabi was something else. Losing usually made him fight harder. And sometimes, he lost himself.

"Oh please, that's nothing. Nothing but a death wish! He's still pissed at me for spilling juice on him at lunch today!" Your boyfriend began pacing, holding his head dramatically.

His head whipped to you as you started laughing. "Why are you laughing? Last time we sparred, I had to sleep with an ice pack on my ass! For a week! And he was sleepy!" He pressed, mocking betrayal once your laughter continued.

"I-I'm sorry, Jin! I'm just remembering that pillow you had yo sit on in class. You know, as to know irritate the burns on your butt." You covered your mouth to stifle anymore sounds of amusement.

Jin whined at the memory, placing his hand on his ass. "It's not funny, babe!"

You grinned and cleared your throat, taking a breathe. "Alright, alright. But you were just distracted that day. And the voices are a lot easier to ignore when your mask comes off in combat now, aren't they?"

Walking over, you gently placed your hand on his cheek. He immediately leaned into your touch, almost cat like. "It's so much easier to focus now. But it can be kinda difficult with you lookin so damn good while watching me!"

Jin leaned down, attempting to kiss you from under his a mask. You laughed and tried pulling away, hands on his chest. "J-Jin!"

"Oi, are you done yet? It's our turn Jin!"

Gulping nervously, Jin lifted his mask a bit to give you an actual kiss. You returned it, humming softly then pulled away. He shrugged. "In case I die."

Then there was an burst of heat. "Get over here, Jin!"

Atsuhiro Sako (Mr. Compress)

Atsuhiro smirked at the villian before him, twirling his cane ever so casually. "Tsk, tsk. You've got a flashy quirk, but there's no flare."

What was supposed to be a training retreat turned into a surprise attack. These villians never knew when to give up.

He quickly dodged another attack and gave a mocking hum, as if he were thinking. "Oh I know!" He hit his fist against his palm. "You're missing the element of surprise! You're completely predictable!"

Laughing as the villian the got angry, he shrugged. "Unlike me!" He dodged once more before shooting out a marble that you'd been compressed in for a while.

Once free, you launched an attack to the villiain. "Surprise!" You grinned as you foot connected into the villian's back, the impact sending him tumbling into a tree.

Atsuhiro caught you in his arms and you spread yours out. "I see, you haven't met my lovely assistant, have you?" Sitting youdown, the two of you prepared for another attack.

"Delaware Smash!" The villain cried out, running to the both of you, dodging Atsuhiro's efforts at compressing him.

You managed to dodge, but Atsuhiro wasn't so lucky, taking blow after blow before colliding into a tree.

"Hiro!" You yelled out, running towards him. It was when you held a hand out that you halted. "Now, now, Dear, worry not. It is not who's in trouble."

The villain's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That's when you noticed a marble rolling from compresses hand. It would seem the villain noticed to but it was too late.

Before anyone could react, Spinner was there dishing out attacks. Atsuhiro stood, leaning against the tree. Running over, you helped him to balance himself.

"You had Spinner this whole time?" You asked in surprise, eyes wide. He chuckled softly and gave a small bow. "As I said, the element of surprise is very important."

"Boss! The heroes are here!"

The villain glared at us, dodging Spinner and jumping from place to place. "This isn't over." He mumbled before bounding off.

Spinner went to go after him, but Atsuhiro had his cane in front of him in a second. "Let them be."

Spinner opened his mouth to protest but sighed and nodded.

You guys soon grouped up with the rest of the class, only to see Toga on the verge of tears.

"Himiko, what's wrong?" Spinner asked, you guys rushing over. Holding back a sob, she looked up.

"They kidnapped Shigaraki!"

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 14

18 + only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Warnings: 18+only for explicit sexual content: depictions of sub/dom lifestyle and m/m sexual relationship. If it’s not your thing please keep scrolling. Thank you!

Authors notes: Have I mentioned how confused I was when I first discovered WinterBaron, not because of some boring silly ideas that these men aren't in love, because of course they are. But because everyone apparently thought felt Bucky would be the dominant one? I mean of course to each their own, if that's what gets you there, no shame! But have you ever looked into Helmut Zemo's eyes? Half way through episode three of FATWS (strut to the helicopter anyone?) and I was all "yes daddy" That man is not to be taken lightly. Bucky however is soft and sweet and wants to be held; after you teach him a lesson of course... All that aside I promise I'm working on the conclusion to this story with --shocker-- yet another chapter already brewing. I swear I thought this was over but it looks like I've gotten a taste of their love and I'm not letting go any time soon. I've grown very attached to this trio and I won't be saying goodbye quite yet, segue into saying hi to my new followers! Love you and thanks for taking the time to read! I really do appreciate it. Now, like I said, don't read this trash in public, it ain't proper *wink*

Sorry that I had to edit so much for tumblr reasons lol

~

At first you hadn’t been sure it was going to be this way again. Zemo seemed so gentle and different which you didn’t mind, but the second he looked at you from the water, you knew and you were so glad for it. You would be his no matter what, but you did so love it when he made you beg.

After drying off and tossing on his cream button down, not bothering with said buttons thank the stars, Zemo started to lead the way through the lounge towards the dinner table but stopped and turned to look at you both with a little smile hinting at his dark intentions.

“What is it?” Bucky asked. He’d taken his wet things off and was in nothing but a towel waiting on Oeznik to bring up dry clothes. Both you and Zemo kept looking him over.

“I was gone for a year James. I’m well aware of how it was between you two.” Zemo says with a dismissive snicker.

Bucky steps back squaring his shoulders ready to defend himself. No one is hiding anything, but of course there is always the worry that feelings have changed now that Zemo is out.

The Baron holds up a hand laughing a little as he shakes his head. “No, I’m not mad, I’m happy you had one another, it is— exactly what I wanted.” Zemo assures you both and Bucky exhales. Zemo looks at you. “I would assume it was different from what we had?”

“Yes, sometimes similar but never the exact same” You answer honestly.

He nods glancing at Bucky sizing him up.

He knows this man could never stand dominating you the way he does, he’s not the sort. Bucky is a physical force of nature, but that’s just it. He's the sort who takes commands not gives them. Still it seems Zemo wants to be sure so he looks at you again. “If this is more to your liking, or if your wants have changed, please. You know I will never force you to do anything. People’s taste change and maybe yours have as well. This life can lose its appeal over time.”

You stop him by stepping forward and take his hand while looking into his eyes and smile sweetly. Slowly, so that he may see just how much you want this, you go down onto your knees, lift his hand, part your lips and suck his thumb into your mouth. The familiar way his fingers cradle your chin make you moan a little as you think about having another part of him. You look up knowing how you must look from this position and Zemo’s jaw muscles flex as he comes closer gazing down on you. His fingers press into your face and when you swirl your tongue around his thumb he shuts his eyes for just a few seconds with a deep sigh at the feel of being reunited with you in this way.

The weight of his other hand on your head tells you to stop and he pulls his thumb free, the wet finger stroking your cheek as he stares down at you, so pleased and relieved to know that you’re still committed to be being his so completely.

“You will need new rules” He says faintly. His voice is tight and you know he wants you here and now, though you can’t see his face anymore because your head is bowed to the man you belong to. The man you obey.

“Yes Baron.” You say, your wide smile hidden from both of them.

“James?” He says stepping away from you, his fingers lingering just a second longer. “I know you enjoyed our times together with her, but…”

“I have to say yes or else it can’t happen.” Bucky finishes for him.

“Exactly.”

“Do I have to get on my knees right now?”

Zemo laughs. “No, not right now. But you will have to learn to listen if this is what you want.”

You want to look so badly. Bucky is going to struggle with it at first. “Yeah well, it’s not like you have’t told me what to do before.” His snark is playful but you know Zemo won’t like it.

“James.”

“I’m kidding.”

“And I’m serious.”

“I know,” He says letting the jokes fade. “And I actually appreciate it. I’m just. Well, it’s new. Maybe I’m a little nervous.” He admits quietly and its so cute you smile wanting to hug him, but Zemo has it covered.

You hear his smile as he speaks and imagine the way he must be standing close, brown eyes gazing into blue. “That's perfectly natural. But you don’t need to fear me, just obey me and everything will be fine.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You’ll find out.”

“What if it’s too much.”

“You already know, I will never go beyond what you can handle. That’s why I need to know now James. Yes— or no.”

Their voices are so low, they are just above a whisper. When you glance up you feel your heart flutter at the sight of Bucky in his arms just as you’d imagined, Zemo waiting patiently, Bucky already looking so soft under his gaze.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes” He says with confidence. You look back down and hear the muffled sound of their colliding kiss.

*

Now what is it they always say? Rules are meant to be broken? You certainly had fun testing the limits at the start of your relationship with Zemo. Well, the Baron must really love a challenge because it seems you and Bucky are cut from the same cloth. Two little shit starters who like to push the limits.

No sooner had Zemo laid out the rules and quite clearly over a lovely plate of hors d’oeuvres and a newly opened bottle of vintage red at the dinner table did Bucky get himself in trouble.

Maybe it's because you only have two rules aboard the ship, but you thought they were fairly simple to follow to be honest.

Never say no to the Baron —safe word, colors and song being the only exception and, don’t fuck James without Helmut’s permission. Simple, somewhat annoying, but that was part of the fun.

And for Bucky;

Rule one; Never question what I do to her.

Rule two; Never say no to me— safe words, colors and song being the only exception

Rule three; Do not fuck her unless I say that you may.

Rule four: Do not come without my permission

He’d said them while pacing calmly behind Bucky who was sitting at the table acting a little too nonchalant about it all.

Zemo could sense his nervous bravado and leaned over Bucky sliding his hand into that thick head of hair, slowly pulling the soldier’s head back. “Shall we see how good you are at following the rules?” He’d hissed in his ear.

You’d watched feeling your own body tense. Please dear god Bucky break at least one you thought hiding your grin.

Of course he broken a rule. How could he not, it was all too tempting. The sad thing is you’re not sure if he really meant to.

It was over dinner— desert actually.

Chocolate mousse, your favorite which the Baron knew. He loves to toy with you, and always has, making you do little things before you’re allowed to indulge. Not out of any need to deny you food, it wasn’t the food, it was the control and your lack of it. He’ll probably do the same with the tv or books whatever it is you want you’ll have to earn it playing his little games.

Tonight to ease back into the life you’d both been forced to set aside, he’d made you sit on your hands like a shamed school girl until he and Bucky had finished their desert first.

Bucky however thought this was a little unnecessarily sexist and cruel and said as much which broke rule number one. Never question what I do to her.

“Oh come on, don’t be an ass” He’d grumbled spooning another bite into his mouth while you sat peeking up though your head stayed down. He will pay for that, you thought feeling the warm breeze stir as the yacht pressed on towards the setting sun.

Helmut said nothing. In fact, he sat in silence just waiting, letting Bucky finish. When he was all done, Zemo smiled. “Good?” He asks.

Finally you think. Let it start.

“The mousse?”

He nods.

“Yeah, great actually.”

“Good. Why don’t you go and feed it to her.” He says “Since you're so concerned.”

Bucky glances at you sitting there waiting patiently, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “All right?”

He gets up, rounds the table and grabs a chair.

“No. On your knees.” Comes the voice of authority.

Bucky pauses, but he does in fact let go of the chair, turns yours around with you in it and gets down in front of you. You glance up at him and he gives you a quick smile.

Opening your mouth you let him spoon the first bite in and it tastes even better than you’d expected.

“Open your legs.” Helmut tells you. Of course you do. “Pull the suit away and look at her.” He says to Bucky.

You see Bucky hesitate, but he does and the air brushes your exposed skin. You take a deep breath in knowing they both see the way you pulse under their lustful gaze. “Do you see how wet this makes her?” Helmut asks, his voice is low.

Bucky’s pupils dilate, his fingers grip your thigh. “Yes.”

“Look at her and remember that this is what she likes, what she wants, what she has been waiting to have. Stop trying to save a woman who doesn’t want to be saved James.”

You watch his eyes and see him wrestling with the truth of that lovely slick and sticky sweetness that you know he wants to touch. This had been exclusively his for a year. He knows exactly what it feels like to dip his fingers in; what it tastes like, what it smells like and how it feels when he bottoms out inside of you and you say his name, not his silly nickname. His real name. Now he knows that he will have to wait until another man tells him when he can have that again-- and that you like it.

When he exhales slowly, daring to run his thumb across your now throbbing clit, you know that he likes it too.

“Finish.”

Bucky glances up at you one last time and sees how you’re trying not to make a sound. He lets go and the bathing suit covers you again. You relax and slowly open your mouth, hoping he does truly understand. You still love him. You’re still his as much as you are Zemo’s but you were Zemo’s first. You will always be Zemo's and you will always play by his rules.

Bucky tips the cool spoon into your mouth and you pull the chocolate from the silver.

“Did you like it?” Helmut asks.

You open your eyes and nod.

“Answer me.”

“Yes Barron.” You say around the bite.

He comes up behind Bucky and smooths his hand over the mans head, and down along the back of his neck gripping. He holds him as leans down to speak in his ear. “I know it’s your first time, so I will make allowances tonight, and tonight only. But I can not have you pushing back, thinking you can break rules when we’ve not even started, yes?”

You’re practically on the edge of your seat wondering what he’ll say. He’s still looking at you and for a second you think it might be too much for him.

“Yes.” He says quietly.

“Yes, what?” Helmut asks moving around to his side.

Bucky looks up, and you see it, the moment he looks into Helmut’s soft brown eyes which are no more than a lure to draw his willing victims in and says, “Yes Baron.”

“Good.” He knows now and so do you. Bucky is truly his. Helmut savors this as much as you did that spoon fed chocolate. You can see the hairs on his arms rise with a chill and his eyelids lower as he stares at this man you’re sure he’s spent as much time thinking of as he has you, possibly more. “Go downstairs to our bedroom.” He tells Bucky who seems surprisingly meek when Helmut hold his face this way; clutched tight in his grasp like an angry headmaster “Strip down to your underwear, place your hands behind your back, and wait in the center of the room.”

Zemo’s eyes scan the striking face of the soldier he once controlled against his will, so happy to know that this time he’s given himself to the Baron of his own volition.

*

You don’t look at him when you are led into the room, you keep your head down and let Zemo guide you straight to the bed where he sits you down and turns his attention to the man waiting.

Only then do you dare to peek over at Bucky still standing like a silent guard. He’s got his hands behind his back and has undressed, just as he was told to do. You can see that his cock is as hard as stone beneath his black boxer briefs; and with him unable to do anything about it.

All you can do is smile. After Zemo is done with him you’re sure he’ll learn his lesson, or exactly how to break the rules again and again.

Looking from one pet to the other, Zemo gives a little sigh. It’s the sound of man spoiled by too many toys. “Come here.” He says.

Obediently, Bucky walks over, the look on his face somewhat serious but it’s clear his defenses are all but forgotten.

“Have you decided how this will play out yet?” Zemo asks once he’s standing in front of you both. Bucky looks Zemo over and for a split second you remember that he could easily overpower the Baron and you worry, but when he lowers his head and drops his shoulders, nodding just a little you smile remembering that he did not come here for that. You saw the way his heart broke when they took Zemo off to prison. You saw the way he smiled when he didn’t know you where looking as he held his phone and stared down at that text, it was the same way he looked at Zemo when he first showed his face this morning and you saw that beautiful kiss between them. He’s all in. He wants to belong to the Baron just as you do.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly and Zemo smiles.

“Thank you for the apology. But you broke a rule James. That can not go unpunished.”

Bucky glances up looking slightly worried.

“There is a way to go about this so that you will learn.” Zemo says smiling down at the high peak of Bucky’s underwear. “Your impatient cock will have to wait. Blame your eager mouth,” He shrugs causally “You see, if you insist on opening it, you will learn to do so for a good reason instead of breaking my rules,” He says and quickly grabs Bucky's throat surpassing him as he leans in just an inch. “Tonight James, you will learn your lesson on your knees, beneath me where you belong. Kneel.”

*

“What is your safe word?” Zemo asks looking down into Bucky’s wide blue eyes.

“Streusel.”

Zemo nods and takes Bucky’s face in hand holding his chin, their eyes fixed on one another. “And what are the colors?”

“Green is go, yellow is slow down and red is stop.”

“And if you can’t speak?”

“I— hum Penny’s from heaven.” He says it feeling silly but knows he might need it tonight.

Stroking his face with the side of his index finger while loosening his shorts with the other, the Baron sighs. “You know that I care for you very much?” He asks slipping his hand beneath the waistband.

“I do.” Bucky says and the way he looks at the Baron shows that he feels the same.

“You know that I care for you both. That is why this works. That is the only way that any of this works. Without it and without the trust this ends.”

“I understand.” Bucky answers softly and turns his face just a little to let his lips brush Zemo’s palm with a kiss.

Helmut’s eyes flit shut with the delicate display of intimacy. His fingers massage Bucky’s temple inching up into his hair and for a moment he just lets the affection between them be enough.

“Good.” He finally answers, his voice low and bends to kiss Bucky’s forehead. When he stands again, the warmth has drained from his touch and his eyes. “Now, open your mouth."

*

Bucky’s shoulder is hot beneath your ear as you lean against him. You can’t reach wide enough to hold him in your arms but you try. The sound of him choking makes you shut you eyes focusing on the shared experience of knowing what it’s like to try and swallow the relentless thrusting of that damned cock and you moan softly in harmony with him. You lift your gaze, thrilled by the sight of his shining black hand veined in gold, braced against Zemo’s flexed thigh.

The pumping into his mouth slows letting him breathe some and you watch wanting to see the way his cheeks hollow when he slides his mouth back and forth.

His closed eyes open, looking up, wanting approval. Helmut gives it by closing his own hands to fists in Bucky’s hair. He shoves in slowly, going as deep as Bucky will take him in, fucking his throat until you hear the faint sound of gagging and a strangled attempt to hum his song. The notes are ragged and you worry Zemo won’t hear. You lay your hand on the Baron’s stomach tapping.

Ever the trustful dominant, Zemo stops and pulls his shining, solid member free, breathing hard, a little sad that he has to, but never one to cross that line.

Bucky drops his head gasping for air, his hands on his thighs as he shakes his head like he thought he knew what he was in for and is realizing how mistaken he was. You look up rubbing the small of his back.

Zemo is assessing as he always does with you. Checking to make sure he hasn’t gone too far because he longs to go farther. But he knows this is the first time his soldier has ever been used so relentlessly. And then you see a smile twitch at the corner of Zemo’s lips and the look of concern melts away.

Bucky has recovered and seems more than willing to take the rest of his “punishment.” He drags the back of his hand across his mouth tilts his head and opens up letting his tongue hang out to make way for the large occupant; the sight is so pretty you think if you had a cock you’d probably shove it in there too which makes you giggle quietly.

Zemo sighs and grabs him, guiding himself into the waiting mouth of the man so eager and ready to satisfy that you think it will not be long now. You know the Baron well and while he’s a master of restraint, this is too much for anyone.

You go up onto your knees kissing Bucky’s face as he sucks, stroking his hair, moaning softly into his ear, biting, licking, teasing him to give him some pleasure too. But you don’t dare touch his stone hard erection though for fear he’ll come and you will be in a world of trouble for breaking Zemo’s rules; so instead you rub your hand up the solid muscle of his thigh smiling when he makes the sweet sounds of someone overwhelmed and loving every second of it.

Zemo’s pace quickens and you back away a little watching, awed and damn near dripping wet. You wince for Bucky and wonder how you’ve ever managed to do this. It looks so intense when you’re on the outside looking in. Still, your hand slips down between your legs. Watching Helmut have his way with a man as strong as this one has you unable to resist, and you aren't the one unable to come when you want.

Zemo notices how you've got your hand under your suit and his moan is loud enough to get your attention. He suddenly grabs Bucky’s head holding him steady, making him give a muffled shout and you go back up onto your knees forgetting about your own pleasure, laying your hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound under your palm, your lips grazing the warmth of his skin as he tries to pull way from the Baron just once in some reflexive attempt to escape this inevitable moment, but it’s too late and he digs the fingers of his natural hand into Helmut’s thigh with a sound, something like a shout of surprise but he can not move.

The absent stroking of Bucky’s hair is some half hearted attempt to quiet him but it actually helps and he relaxes, moaning long and low as Zemo draws in a ragged breath between his teeth and holds it in as every muscle in his body flexes.

Bucky starts to swallow and you watch the way he accepts every warm shot so willingly now, all fight in him gone, even the way he holds onto the Baron has changed. He seems to be urging him to —go on —give me more.

You feel the fluttering in your stomach in this quiet moment even though your heart is pounding and your hand quickly slips back down. You won’t be able to finish but it still feels incredible.

They both tense with the last of it, Bucky grabbing Zemo’s ass holding him close now that it’s over and the Baron relaxes with a light laugh as he slowly pulls himself free.“Well done James,” He exhales closing his eyes. “That was— perfect.” He smiles opening them and steps back catching his breath “On your feet” He finally says.

Bucky pushes up to standing.

“You too,” He tells you.

Bucky holds out his hand which you take and he pulls you up easily. You stand in silence together.

“Continue like this, and perhaps I’ll let you come tomorrow.” Zemo says to Bucky.

He kisses your cheek, smiles at you both, knowing that he’s left his new sub confused and sexually frustrated, turns and finds his drink on the table and his robe hanging on the master bath door before going off to take a shower.

*

“Did you think I’d forgotten about you?” He asks, his breath warm in your ear.

You shake your head no even though it’s hard with his hand so tight around your neck.

“No, never, I will always satisfy you.” He says and kisses you deeply.

“Are you going to come?” Helmut asks looking down to see his hand at work rubbing your pussy. Your knees part and your hips raise in response to the light smacks he gives your hot divide.

Bucky sighs, lost in his own agony of only being allowed to watch.

You’re a moaning, whimpering mess gasping and crying out the second Helmut thumbs your clit again. He smacks and your legs close reflexively “Open” He says and you do. He gives two more and your thighs are shaking as the pressure mounts.

“That’s it, come, come for me, and for him. Come for him because he can’t” Helmut says smiling cruelly at Bucky.

You’re too close to feel sympathy, you feel only your Baron’s skilled hand and the way he circles your hard clit with his middle finger with the perfect amount of pressure until the dam gives way and you come with a scream and deep pulsing burst wetting his fingers and the sheet, your entire body flexing in rhythm with the orgasm until you shiver and sink down still gasping.

Helmut kisses you lightly smiling. “I have missed doing that to you.”

You give a breathy smile with your eyes closed feeling your breast shake as you do with the residual quakes of pleasure. You can not remember the last time you've come that hard.

“A reminder of what satisfaction tastes like” Helmut says and you open your eyes to find him reaching towards Bucky.

You don’t think he’ll do it, but he is learning submission from you. He opens his mouth and sucks Zemo’s middle finger, his moan soft but slightly pained.

“Soon James.” Helmut says, his expression alternating between arousal and empathy. “Soon.”

*

Late in the night well after the three of you have cleaned up and gone to bed, you wake up between them feeling so thirsty you have to go up for a bottle of water from the small fridge and come back to find the bed you share empty.

Confused at first, you hear their voices out on the balcony and quietly make your way over.

“I won’t ever hurt you more than you want me to.” You hear Zemo say with the sleepy smile in his voice.

“I know.” Bucky says sounding relaxed. It’s the same way he sounds with you, and you are relieved that there seem to be no true hard feelings after his first taste of submission tonight.

“I am happy you decided to come, you know that, right? There were times I didn’t think you would.” Zemo says.

“There were times that I didn’t know what I would do if you got out. I think it came down to those last few seconds.”

“Are you sure about that?” Zemo asks, clearly not believing him.

There is a long pause and you smile at the door. He knew he was going to come the second he turned you over, You think standing in the shadows.

Helmut is laying back on the low, wide sofa, one arm resting on the back, the other across Bucky’s chest, one leg bent at the knee, the other over the edge. You like the way he sort of absently strokes the vibranium shoulder. You do the same thing, You both know Bucky can’t feel it but you both like the way the cool metal calms you, and Bucky… he’s so relaxed. His back to Zemo’s chest, that powerful limb wrapped around the Barons leg, the other resting across his own stomach. They look so peaceful that you hate they’ve spotted you before you can sneak back into bed.

Bucky calls for you to join them which you do now that they both insist so you come out. You hop onto the sofa with all the enthusiasm of a joining a sleepover.

Bucky’s chest offers a solid, familiar warmth and you sigh happily as he strokes your hair while you watch the stars slowly floating by.

They shift the conversation now and start talking about the mechanics of ships of all things and you think how lovely it is that they have one another to be boring with, and how lucky you are to have two men with such beautifully relaxing voices.

Sleep takes you easily, and when you wake again you’re being carried into the room by one metal arm and one flesh and laid down in the bed— the comfort of their bodies surrounding you with safety and love.

To be continued...

[miss--aura]

Saw your requests were open! I too love Fatgum so maybe an +18 plus scenario with some angst? Like maybe you were good friends but now both are stuck in limbo after sleeping with each other one night. Confused about what they are. Sorry if I'm not making sense.

Stuck In between

Pairing: Taishiro Toyomitsu x Reader

Warnings: angst, bad smut because I had a headache while writing the ending, idk what to put for warnings, banana milk sucks

Requested by: ness-is-a-vanillabean

On a serious note I decided I don't know how to wrote angst or if this counts as angst lmao.

It was a spur of the moment decision, at least that's what you kept telling yourself. You were drunk, and let your lust get the better of you and now you didn't know what to do.

You shouldn't have let Midnight convince you to go, you shouldn't have taken the wine glass offered to you. It was all just some big mistake that you made, and it landed you where you are now.

You haven't left your house in a week and you certainly havent been checking any messages on your phone. Luckily you could work from home, but you couldnt hide forever.

"God, I'm so stupid!" Slamming your head on your desk with a groan, tears forming in your eyes as you choke out a sob.

No matter how hard you tried it kept replaying in your head. The way his eyes seemed to drink you up, his hands caressing every inch of your body, the way he filled you up hitting the spots that made you forget your name.

Part of you didn't regret it at all, getting out all of the lust filled emotions was such a nice release to something you've been holding onto for god knows how long.

Yet, you couldnt look back on the memory in a fond light. Because in the end, you said I love you. You said I love you to your bestfriend, and now you couldn't even talk to him.

He'd called you at least 15 times a day since then, over 200 messages being left unread. You just had to go and be selfish, didn't you? Ruin the one good thing you had in your life.

You wondered how he was doing, not that you'd ask. But at the same time, you were his bestfriend and you confessed your love to him in a drunken haze and haven't spoken to him since.

All the ways you could've confessed, you had to go and do it when you were drunk out of your mind and being pounded into a mattress. Going back to work at the agency would be a nightmare now.

One week left until you actually had to go back to the agency. Meaning one week to figure out how to avoid Taishiro for the rest of your life. Did you want to avoid him? No, but you'd rather avoid him than own up to your own emotions.

Picking your head up off the desk you decide to actually do something productive for once. You needed groceries anyways and right now was the perfect time to do so, considering Taishiro would be patrolling the other side of town.

You quickly freshen up and head out the door, the grocery store being only a few blocks away so you could manage walking there and back.

It was a short walk, being about 15 minutes give or take a few. Now that you were scanning shelves you realized how long it had really been since you've seen, well, another human.

It almost made you laugh, how seeing really people made you feel better about the situation your in. Sucking in your cheeks you put a small case of banana milk into your cart.

Taishiro didn't really care for it, but it was almost a comfort item for you. He always said it just tasted like a banana, and it'd cost less to buy regular bananas instead. Though you'd disagree everytime he brought it up.

Sure, it tasted like bananas, but it is banana milk so whatever. Plus it came in cute boxes with a straw and who were you to deny something that looked so cute.

Making it to checkout, you place your items on the counter. Allowing the cashier to do their job while you let your eyes wander around the store.

It wasn't big, but it had a comforting feel. Maybe it was because you'd been feeling down, or maybe it was the way you'd been here so many times that the familiarity was comforting to you.

Never the less you give a small smile to the cashier, finishing the rest of your items as you pay. Fishing the bags into your arms as you start the short journey back to your home.

"Need help carrying those bags?" The voice made you freeze in place. There was no way this was happening, he wasn't supposed to be here. He was on duty, right?

"Listen we need to talk, you can't keep ignoring me."

"I don't wanna talk right now, aren't you on duty anyway? I have to go put these away." You start walking off, hurrying to get away.

"I'm a hero, I help people in need. You aren't feeling like yourself which means it's my place to help. Is it not?"

"I said I don't want to talk, I said something I didn't mean, and I have to face the consequences for that. Okay?"

"So you don't love me?" You swear you could hear the hurt in his voice, but you told yourself you were hearing things. You can't ruin this anymore than you already have.

You can't bring yourself to respond, quickening your pace as your eyes fill with tears. Trying to blink them away only causing them to slide down your face. Not that you bother to wipe them because you know Taishiro is still watching you walk away.

He doesn't like you like that, he's a pro hero, you're just an office lady. That's what you have to remember. Whatever you thought you had, was just you trying to convince yourself that something could happen.

It didn't matter if you wanted to run into his arms, nothing would change. You'd be the hopeless romantic who had feelings for a hero who didn't have time to waste on a relationship.

"Y/n wait! Stop walking so fast I can't keep up!" Taishiro's voiced filled through your ears, your heart melting at the sound. But for once, your head was in control. Head over heart, that's what your mom always said.

"Go away 'shiro." It came out more broken than you wanted it to and you knew he could see right through you as much as you wanted to hide away from your feelings your feet plant themselves no longer letting you move further.

Two arms wrapping around your waist in the tightest hug you've ever experienced. Stealing the air from your lungs as a small whine of pain escapes your lips.

"Y/n, listen to me. You can't keep avoiding me. I've been worried sick about you, can't you tell? I thought I was dreaming when you told me you loved me but just as soon as that happened you dissapeared. Please Y/n talk to me."

You shook your head more tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to speak without sounding like you were dying. Though it felt like you were.

"You don't love me 'shiro, I gotta get over you but whenever you're near me it makes it so hard. No matter how hard I try I keep falling harder."

"Who said I don't love you? Angelcake, you never asked me if I loved you. Look at you, what is there not to love about you? When you said you loved me I'd never been more happy in my entire life. So please, stop running away from me, I hate not being with you."

"'shiro..."

"Shh, let's get you home, I wanna show you how much I love you."

Arriving at your house, you force the key into the door as quick as you can manage. Taishiro taking notice to how desperate you were to enter.

Pushing the door open you realize how messy your house was, an awkward smile spreading across your face as you let him in. "Please excuse the mess, it's not usually like this I've just been having a hard time recently."

"As if it's any worse than mine, besides I'm not here to judge you." He grins placing his hand in yours and leading you to your bedroom. Seeing as he'd been here enough to know the lay out of your house.

Just as soon as you were in your room, he was all over you. Kissing you with so much passion you thought you were dreaming by the way he seemed to be bleeding out lust.

Taishiro opted to use his normal form in moments like this, his fat body not working when it came to the more intimate moments. Not that you loved him any less in any form.

You whine into the kiss, your body on fire from the arousal building up within you. Clawing at your close to get them off, desperate to have Taishiro's hands be on your bare skin.

"Someones needy, aren't they?"

"'shiro, please I want you. I've been waiting for this."

He hums, giving you a small nod as his hands sneak up your shirt. Helping you strip out of your clothes before falling suite with his own.

His hands grope your breasts squeezing lightly to get a reaction out of you. Which you give through a small moan. The noise is just enough to get him going though.

Spreading your legs and holding them open with his knees he slides his fingers over your folds, getting a grasp for how wet you were for him.

The more he teased the more you squirmed under him, small begs passing through your lips. Begging for him to hurry up.

"Taishiro, please stop teasing me I cant wait anymore~"

He only smiles in response, placing his cock at your entrance. Having done this just a week ago he was more than ready to plunge into the depth. Slowly thrusting into you allowing you to adjust.

You whine out his name, back slightly arching off the bed in ecstasy. Clenching around him your eyes clouded with list at the sensual yet familiar feeling of him filling you up.

He thrusts harder, finding a sweet rhythmatic pace that made the both of you feel good. Not too fast, but not too slow either. The perfect momentum between the two of you.

Leaning down to kiss you, he finds himself smiling like a little kid, happier than ever to be with you in this moment.

"'m close baby, where do you want my cum?"

"Anywhere, I dont care."

Satisfied with that response he thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and letting his cum cover your lower abdomen.

"I told you I loved you babe, is that enough to prove it?"

"More than I could have ever asked for."

[angelsfalling16]

From that quote-prompt list...

Have you done "I'm not leaving you here"?

Been needing some angst. XD

💜

Thanks for the prompt! <3 Sorry it took me so long to complete it; I wanted to make it a little bit longer and make it part of my 20fk series. I hope you like it! Also, I just saw that it was your birthday yesterday, so happy belated birthday!! :)

You can also read this on ao3

---

Baz

Simon gets called out at the beginning of class to go on a secret mission for the Mage, and even though it has happened before, it seems to irritate me more today. Why does Simon keep allowing the Mage to use him as his pawn?

He is more than a bomb that the Mage can point at one of his many enemies and allow to go off. He’s a person, a boy, and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like this, like he’s expendable. I don’t understand how I am the only one who sees this. Surely, even Penny would be wary of this. But I guess no one is willing to go up against the Mage like that. (Except maybe Fiona.)

One of these days, he is going to get himself killed, and I will not sit idly by and watch that happen. I have to make Simon see that he’s being used, that he doesn’t have to keep doing this. As soon as this class lets out, I take off in search of Simon. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll be able to catch up with him before he gets too far away.

He isn’t in our room, but his scent is strong here, which means he was here not long ago. I rush over to the window and look out of it over the grounds to see if I can see him walking away, but he isn’t there. I’ll have to cast a spell then.

It works instantly, and I can feel Simon. He’s close. The spell starts to pull me towards him, and I take off out of our room, practically flying down the steps. I’m not sure my feet even touch the ground, but I don’t have time to stop and think about that because I have to reach Simon before it’s too late.

The spell is leading me towards the gates. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to get through with one of the Mage’s gates standing guard, but I will do whatever it takes, including spelling the idiot out of my way if I have to.

I don’t have to worry about that, though, because there’s no one there.

That’s strange, I think. There has been someone standing there every day since eighth year began, so something must have happened if the station has been abandoned.

I slow as I reach the gates to open them, and I take a moment to recast the spell to strengthen. It feels like I’m close to him, but it doesn’t feel like Simon has moved any farther away since I initially cast the spell. If there was a threat this close to the school, you would think that the Mage would have raised some kind of alarm, but he doesn’t even have anyone at the gate. It just goes to show how terrible he is at his job.

I continue to follow the pull of the spell, and it brings me to the road, then across it, then to the woods on the other side.

I can hear some sort of commotion now, and I pick up my pace. I have to help Simon. He probably won’t want it, but that’s too bad. I would die a thousand times over in order to protect him. I will not let him die if there is any way that I can prevent it.

When I reach Simon, there is no sign of the Mage of any of his men. It appears like they abandoned him here to handle this threat on his own. It’s unbelievable.

Simon is being surrounded by dozens of goblins, all of whom are vying for his head. He is doing his best to fight them off with his sword, but it isn’t enough. He’s fighting a losing battle.

One of the goblins has managed to get behind him and has a knife raised over him, ready to attack. Before I even have time to think about it, I have summoned a ball of fire in my hand, and I send it soaring in the goblin’s direction. It makes a contact, and with nothing more than a shriek, the goblin catches fire then disintegrates into ash.

Simon spins around to see what happened, and he’s understandably shocked to see me. “Baz?”

“Watch out!” I shout, rushing forward to cast a spell at a goblin that lunged at Simon as soon as he turned his back.

I keep casting spells and sending fire at the remaining goblins, and once Simon recovers from his shock, he turns to fight with me, swinging his sword wildly about, beheading one gobbling after another. He’s brilliant at it, and I almost wish I could stop and watch him in action.

We fight side by side, killing goblin after goblin, but our efforts seem futile because the goblins just keep coming at us, spilling through the trees on all sides, forcing Simon and I to stand back to back. It doesn’t look like we’re going to make it out of here alive, but we can’t give up.

One of the goblins manages to knock my wand from my hand, and I curse under my breath. I can summon my fire without it, but as the goblins close in on us and I start to grow tired from so much use of magic, I’m not sure how longer I can keep doing it.

The goblins manage to get a few good hits and cuts on us, and the smell of Simon’s blood forces my fangs to push through my gums. I could bite them, but goblins are foul and bitter tasting beings. Plus, it would leave me open to attacks from the others if I got distracted by one of them.

“You should go,” I hear Simon say behind me.

“What?”

“You’re stronger than I am. You’ll be able to make it out of here alive. Just go!”

“I’m not leaving you here! You will never be able to defeat them all on your own.”

He’s quite for a moment, and I hear a demon cry out as Simon stabs at the same time that I shoot some more fire at the ones in front of me. It’s getting harder to summon it; my magic is starting to run low. But I won’t run. I won’t leave Simon behind. I could never live with myself if I left him here to die.

“We just have to keep fighting. Someone will come help us eventually.” I don’t even believe it as I say it.

“Who? No one even knows we’re here.”

“What?! I thought the Mage sent you here.”

“He did, but he said that he had a more pressing matter to attend to. There were only a few goblins at the time, and this is my responsibility. It’s me they’re after. Which is why you should go. It’s not you they want. They’ll probably just let you leave.”

If I make it out of this alive, I am going to murder the Mage.

“I’m not leaving you!” I repeat. I look around for my wand, but I don’t see it. The next flame I summon is barely more than an ember, and it only injures the goblin in front of me, rather than killing it.

“I’m sorry, Baz!” Simon shouts, and the tone in his voice worries me.

“Why are you sorry?” I shout back, whirling around to see what he’s about to do.

That’s when everything goes black.

***

When I come to, all I see is trees.

With a groan, I force myself to sit up. There is a pounding in my head, but most of my other injuries have already started to heal. I look around and am relieved to find that Simon is lying beside,

“What happened?” I asked. “The last thing I remember is you apologizing.”

“I went off,” he says, grimacing like he hates to admit it. “I tried not to because I was worried that you would get hurt. That wouldn’t have been a problem if you had run like I told you.”

“I couldn’t leave you there!” I say, angry because he actually believes that I could just abandon him like that.

“Why not?”

“Because I--.” I cut myself off before I can finish that sentence.

“You…what?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t want you to die, alright?” I look away, but then a thought occurs to me. “Why did you care whether or not you hurt me?”

“If you died because of me, I would have a lot worse problems than a horde of goblins attacking me,” he says, but the blush on his face tells a different story.

He’s right, though. If I had died, Simon would have instantly moved to the top of Fiona’s list, right above the Mage, who is coincidentally now at the top of my own list.

“Look,” Simon says, “none of this matters. We made it out alive. Now, we can go back to trying to kill each other instead of nearly getting killed by other things.”

“I don’t want to kill you,” I mutter under my breath as I push myself to my feet, but somehow, Simon hears me.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” I start to walk away from him, back in the direction of Watford, but Simon stops me by grabbing my arm and pulling me around to face him.

“Baz…. Why did you come out here? Why did you try to help me fight the goblins when you could have let them kill me and been rid of me for good?”

“Because I don’t want you to die,” I hiss. “I actually care about whether you live or not. Unlike the Mage.”

He makes a face at that last remark but apparently decides to ignore it for now.

We’re standing barely a foot apart, and his hand is still on my arm. I could turn and run from him, but instead, I allow him to pull me closer. Because I’m weak.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to die either.”

My breath catches, and my heart skips a beat. I know that it doesn’t necessarily mean that he likes me, but it’s progress. It’s better than him hating me.

He gives my arm another tug, and we’re so close now that I have to tilt my head down to look at him. He brings a hand up to rest gently on my cheek, and I can’t help the sigh that escapes me at his touch. I lean down until our noses brush but stop there, meeting his eyes. The world seems to have disappeared around us, and it’s just him and me.

Whatever happens next could change things forever. I just wish I knew what he was thinking.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, and then I know exactly what he’s thinking.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Then he kisses me.

It’s soft yet passionate, fast but gentle. His lips part around mine in a sigh, and it is the best thing that I have felt. I feel like I’m flying for the second time today, and I wonder at how Simon can make me feel like this. Like nothing else in the world matters, which feels so true.

I love Simon. He is the most important thing in my life, and I will never let anything bad happen to him for as long as I can help it. I will keep loving him and protecting him until the day I die.

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | FIVE

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 4,111

warnings: mostly fluff, some angst toward the end, mentions of injury

18+!!! minors stay away!

You didn't get much work done with Peter during the weekend. Following your emotional outburst over the argument between the pair of you, Peter stayed at your house surprisingly late into the night. You both seemed to agree the project could wait for a different day, and instead of working you spent the evening talking. While you didn't have much to talk about, Peter had a seemingly endless supply of subject matter to keep you both entertained.

Already you could tell that you were growing attached to him, probably far too much and far too soon, but there was no stopping it any longer. He made you feel good things and gave you a sense of normalcy you'd been craving for so long; there was no way you were giving that up any time soon. If he hurt you in the end, you'd deal with the pain because at least you got a bit of relief in the present.

That Friday evening had been one of the best nights of your life, regardless of how mundane or even boring it probably would have seemed to your younger self. You learned a lot about Peter, more than he'd already forced you to know in the weeks leading up to that night, and you answered all his random and silly questions about yourself. You learned that his favorite colors were red and blue, totally un-ironically, and that he'd gotten his abilities the summer between the eighth and ninth grades.

You also learned that Peter was just as stubborn and competitive as you used to be, and something about that knowledge sparked some of the old flame back into you. So, chasing after the fire that used to warm you, you made a deal with him. If he could prove to you that the Avengers were not as bad as you thought they were, then you would willingly do your speech in favor of the superheroes.

"You--you what?" Peter sputtered, laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach with both hands and gasp for air, "You really cut the hair off of all of your sister's dolls because she beat you at checkers?"

You snorted, a harsh sound that made your nose ache as you laughed along with him, "Yes! She knew how competitive I was, and she took that risk by challenging me. I never lost a game of checkers again after that."

He slipped into another torrent of giggles much to your amusement, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a beautiful smile that made your own chuckling soften as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of it. Peter Parker was certainly a very breathtaking spectacle to behold, and you had to wonder why he wasn't so much more popular in school. You knew why, everyone could see the relentless torment that Flash Thompson unleashed on him, but it still made no sense to you.

What was there to dislike about Peter? Just days ago you'd been beyond annoyed by him, and weeks before that you'd been entirely uncaring of his existence, but already that all seemed completely nonsensical to you. Now that you'd let him in, given him a chance, it seemed impossible to ever not like him again.

Wheezing breathlessly, Peter chortled, "I can't even judge you. One time, when Ned and I were thirteen, he bet that he could finish a LEGO set before me. He was going to beat me, and I may have accidentally knocked it off the table so he had to start over."

"So," you finally gasped as you stopped laughing, "so, what you're saying is, you're just as stubborn as I am and we're definitely never going to agree on this project?"

His chuckles slowly died out as he nodded, "I guess so."

You knew what he meant to say, and that was the fact that he didn't feel he was being needlessly stubborn in this situation. This wasn't about competition to him. No, this was about him not seeing himself or his colleagues in a negative light; he couldn't fathom the distaste you had for them.

As much as you disagreed, you could understand that. You could understand how he would see the people he worked alongside as good people. It made sense that he would have a different perspective when he was the one out saving civilians from big and small horrors alike, rather than being the one to suffer the consequences of the destruction that happened as a result.

Along with your understanding, you also didn't think that Peter was a bad person. You couldn't possibly imagine him causing harm, intentionally or not, and maybe that was why you said what you did next. Maybe that was why you proposed, "I'll make you a deal. If you can prove to me that the Avengers are not who I think they are, then I'll take your stance for the speech. Give me a reason to speak positively of them, and I will."

Even now, as you made your way toward your locker at school on Monday, you weren't entirely sure what had made you decide to propose such a thing. You were pretty certain that you were setting Peter up for failure. In your eyes, there wasn't much of anything that Peter could say, do, or show you that would change your mind. Nothing would make what had happened to your sister okay or forgivable.

Yet, he clearly did not feel the same way. Peter looked as if he was walking on sunshine that morning as he pranced along beside you, a triumphant grin on his face as he whispered, "I have a plan."

"A plan?"

He grinned wider as you looked at him curiously, "Yes, a plan. To change your mind."

Quirking an eyebrow expectantly, you waited for him to elaborate as you gathered your things from your locker for class. He never did, only continuing to practically vibrate with excitement beside you in silence. "Are you going to tell me what this plan of yours is?" you prodded.

"No." When you looked at him in confusion he continued, "If I tell you what it is, you're not going to have an open mind. You're going to think of all the reasons it won't change your mind, and then it won't."

Suddenly, you were the one chasing after Peter instead of the other way around. All day you found yourself glancing to him suspiciously and following him around much like he had you in all the weeks leading up to your budding friendship, and it was a big change of pace for you. You felt a little pathetic following him like a lost puppy, but you were nosy and wanted to know what his plan was.

No matter how much you pried, though, he didn't budge. In Calculus he ignored your staring and whispers with a far too smug smirk on his face, though you secretly liked the way it looked on him. Who would have guessed that Peter Parker could be arrogant?

In Gym class he teasingly ran faster than you could keep up the moment you asked again, only slowing down once you begrudgingly promised to leave the subject alone. Though he did tell you he wouldn't run faster than you anyways because people would probably get suspicious if he suddenly turned into a track star. He had to play the roll of the un-athletic nerd regardless.

At lunch he didn't sit with you for the first time since he'd started joining you. He'd waved at you from where he sat with his friends, Ned and MJ, but you found yourself leaving the cafeteria rather than joining him. You weren't ready to take that next step yet; being open with Peter was hard enough, and you weren't ready to have to talk to two more people. Still, you tried to pretend it didn't bother you despite the little sinking feeling you felt in your stomach.

He still sat with you in Speech class, which you were relieved by. Ms. Lovell left everyone to work with their partners on their project, warning the class sternly, "You may have until the end of the semester, but don't slack off now. I'm only giving you two other class periods after now to work on this."

Peter quietly joked, "I bet she just forgot to grade our homework from last week."

When the woman sat down at her desk and pulled over a stack of papers, uncapping her favorite red-glitter pen that she always graded with, you both fell into a fit of giggles that you had to work very hard to keep quiet. It only took one glare from the teacher to have you ducking behind your book to hide how red your face turned, both from embarrassment and repressed laughter. You did, however, notice to fleeting expression of shock on her face to see it was you giggling in her class.

Not much work was done during that class, though for you and Peter the work couldn't be started yet. You still hadn't decided on a stance, and until Peter either succeeded with his plan or failed as you expected, a decision wouldn't be made. Instead, you both whispered to each other about whatever random thoughts seemed to pop into your heads in the moment.

"People are staring at me," you acknowledged, glancing around the class timidly at the sight of many students giving you curious stares, "is there something on my face?"

Peter laughed, though he quickly disguised it as a cough, and responded, "No, they're just confused."

Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the boy with the warm brown eyes who was grinning at you proudly. "Why?" you asked, shifting uncomfortably. You were used to people giving you strange looks, but these were different. They weren't looking at you as if they were pitying you, or as if they were waiting for you to finally break down and go crazy. No, now they were looking to you with wonder and interest.

He bit the inside of his cheek, a pensive expression blossoming over his face as he thought of how to say whatever he planned to tell you. For a moment you admired the way his ruffled eyebrows furrowed, his lips pouting slightly as he pursed them in concentration. Only when the strange, old fluttering in your heart and your stomach started to erupt did you look away and wrinkle your nose.

You didn't want to admit it, but you knew exactly what that feeling was. It was a feeling you hadn't encountered since before the incident, and it was a feeling you didn't want to experience now. So, you told yourself it was just nerves over having a friend again, and squashed the stupid butterflies down as hard and as fast as you could.

"Well," Peter finally started, eyes wide and a little nervous as if he expected you to potentially be offended by his words, "you haven't exactly... talked to anyone in awhile."

Suddenly, it clicked. People were staring because you weren't the reclusive, closed-off, depressed girl you had been for the past thirteen months. They were staring because you seemed... happy. "Oh." you nodded, the sound feeble and slightly broken, "I guess that makes sense."

People were staring at you because you were the girl with the dead sister who they'd been waiting to witness implode, and suddenly you were talking, and laughing, and smiling. You were talking, laughing, and smiling with Peter Parker, no less. They were looking at you because you seemed fine.

Were you fine? Peter shot you a few concerned glances as you seemed to slip back into the repression you'd been living in for so long, but you gave him a small smile as if to say, "I'm okay." You were okay.

For the first time since she died, now that you really thought about it, you truly felt okay. You felt good. You felt happy. Sure, you were terrified of the little flutters you felt whenever you stared a little too long at Peter's face, and you still felt all the bad things you'd been feeling, but now you had good things to balance them out.

It would have been so easy to slip back into that cycle of beating yourself up again. That little voice in the back of your head was still there, the one that sounded like your sister but so different at the same time, that told you that you didn't deserve to have friends. You didn't deserve to make new friends, or feel those butterflies that meant something more, not when she couldn't do those things ever again.

It would have been easy, but you didn't want that for yourself anymore. If you did that, if you pushed Peter away because of her, then you would be left with all the bad feelings and more of them. You didn't deserve that. So, you took a deep breath, and gave a more genuine smile, and met the stares head on. She would have wanted you to be happy, and you deserved to be happy.

After school, Peter left you with a swimming mind and a million thoughts of what his plan could be. He didn't mention anything, and you wondered how long you would have to wait for whatever it was to come to fruition. What could it be?

You spent the afternoon in the family room, an action that seemed to startle and befuddle your parents who watched you like hawks. Though they didn't say anything, only greeting you casually as if everything were totally normal, you could practically hear the gears turning in their heads. You could imagine their thoughts of, "Who is this alien that looks like our child?"

As confused as they were, eventually the decided to just go with it. Your mom curled up on the sofa with you, and your father fell into his recliner just like old times, and the three of you watched a movie in a comfortable silence. Well, mostly comfortable. Nobody dared to look at or acknowledge the empty middle cushion on the sofa where she'd always sat, or your mother's empty lap that she mindlessly kept brushing her hands over as if waiting for your sister's head to be laying there waiting for her hair to be played with.

Nobody dared, until you did. You weren't entirely sure what compelled you to do it. It seemed as if you were urged to do lots of things you thought you never would these days. But, after half an hour of watching your mother's twitching hands, you laid your head on her lap and closed your eyes to avoid seeing her face.

After a moment, her fingers brushed through your wind-tangled hair and you felt peace. She had always been the one to do this. She had always been the one to burrow her way into your mother's lap, begging to have her scalp massaged or her back traced delicately, and now you understood why. It was comforting for more than one reason.

On one hand, it was just physically relaxing. But, on a more complex level, it gave you a sense of closeness you hadn't realized you'd been longing for. You felt closer with your mother who worked through the tangles in your hair with her fingers, gently scratching your scalp with her manicured fingernails. You felt closer with your sister, too. It felt as if you had a small piece of her to hold onto in that moment, and it was comforting.

By the time the movie ended, you were nearly asleep and the sun had set some time ago. Your mother was the first to break the silence, softly rousing you, "(Y/N), honey, do you want dinner?"

You did, but before you could answer, your phone rang loudly. Glancing at the screen and seeing it was Peter, you nibbled your lip to hide a smile and stated, "Yeah, I'll be down in a minute." They didn't protest as you raced up to your bedroom to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"(Y/N)! Hey!" Peter practically shouted, though his voice cut out with what sounded like a windstorm. "Can you hear me?"

For a moment the audio cut out and you wondered if the call dropped, but then the crackling wind returned and you questioned, "What are you doing?"

Abruptly the sound ended, and he was breathing a little heavily as he responded, "Sorry, I was swinging--"

"Peter! Are you really on your phone while doing that?"

He laughed, "Calm down! My suit, well, Karen, the AI in my suit, is connected to my phone. Completely hands free--I promise."

Your mind flashed back to that night on the roof, the night he'd stopped you, and you remembered how he'd asked a woman named Karen what he was supposed to do. Now it all made sense. You'd been a little curious about who Karen was ever since that night, and now that you knew it was some sort of artificial intelligence that Peter had given such a human name to, you had to laugh.

"Why are you calling me, Spiderman?" you joked.

There was some quiet rustling, as if he were moving around, and he spoke quieter, "I'm on patrol. I just--maybe this is stupid, but I just thought if maybe I could show you the good things I do you'd see that we don't just destroy stuff."

It went silent for a moment before he continued, "I can't exactly take you with me, because that would be stupid, but you could listen."

You hesitated in responding. A part of you wanted to tell him that it was a stupid idea, for multiple reasons, but you decided against it. How would he ever prove anything to you if you didn't give him the chance?

So, you swallowed your protests, and said, "Okay."

"I'll warn you now it's usually pretty boring. A lot of nights I just swing around for awhile and go home without seeing anyone or anything."

That was strangely relieving. You hoped that tonight would be one of those nights; not because you didn't want him to have the chance to really enact his plan, but because you worried for him. What if having you metaphorically there with him distracted him? What if you distracted him and caused him to get hurt?

For awhile, it was a boring night. You and Peter went back and forth, taking turns telling stupid jokes to see who would crack and laugh first, and inevitably he won. He had an endless supply of disgustingly cheesy science puns that left you in stitches every time, even if you'd already seen the joke before on one of his many t-shirts.

You got him to laugh too, though, with all of the dead-pan anti-jokes you may have been secretly googling as you told them. Sometimes the wind would return, alerting you that he was swinging around the city, and every now and then he'd almost forget you were listening as he gave little exclamations of exhilaration in the moment. It was cute, even if the shouts nearly blew out your ear drum every time.

It was a boring night, until it wasn't. One moment the wind was making your phone speaker cut out, and the next it was eerily quiet and you had to pull your phone away to see if the call had dropped. Putting the device on speaker phone, you questioned quietly, "Peter?"

"I'm still here," he whispered, "I see something. Be quiet for a minute."

You listened and waited with baited breathe, probably panicking more than enough for the both of you, as Peter started speaking to Karen. He asked her to start something he called enhanced reconnaissance mode, and you were bursting with suspense and curiosity. What did he see? What was happening?

It felt like an eternity before he acknowledged you again, "Okay, I see a woman cornered by some guys. I think they're trying to... to attack her."

He didn't have to say the word for you to know what he meant, and you felt your stomach explode with anxiety and fear for a woman you couldn't even see. "What are you going to do?" you asked.

"I'm gonna web 'em up, and wait for the police with her." he stated, "I won't be able to talk for a bit, okay?"

And then, everything changed. One moment the wind was back as he swung down to the scene, and suddenly Peter was in full Spiderman mode and almost unrecognizable to you. He was sassier, playful even, despite how serious you knew he really was as he antagonized the bad guys.

The banter didn't last long. You heard the woman scream in terror as a loud ruckus rang through your phone, and Peter groaned. Was he hurt? Did he get hit? There were more thuds and dull smacking sounds, Peter and the men alike grunting and shouting out loudly as she continued to break the atmosphere with her screaming.

You wanted to call out for him, to make sure he was okay, but you were paralyzed in fear. What if you called his name and it distracted him, causing him to really get hurt? But, what if he already was hurt and forgot you were there to potentially call for help?

The fight lasted awhile, before finally the woman's screaming ceased as Peter told her, "Hey, hey! I got them, I got you. It's okay. Everything's okay."

"Peter?" you whispered.

"Everything's okay. It's going to be alright."

He was speaking to you, though he had to phrase it in a way that it sounded as if he were just speaking to her. You didn't believe him that everything was fine, though. It was easy to hear just how winded he was in the way his voice was strained, weaker than before.

Peter was hurt, and you were terrified. His plan was just as stupid as you'd thought it to be. Not because he didn't prove anything to you, because you were happy he'd saved the woman and he had shown you a good thing he did, but because he'd forced you to witness his pain and suffering yet again. You'd had to witness him actually get hurt this time, and the woman's screams still echoed in your ears.

It brought you back to that day. Her screams reminded you of the chaos following the building's collapse, reminded you of how hoarse and sore your throat had been from screaming just like that. Screams of pure horror and panic.

Only after the police finally left, thanking Spiderman for his help, did Peter drop the faux strength and softly whimper, "Shit, that really hurt."

"My window is open."

With that, you hung up and left him to decide what to do by himself.

Your mother quietly knocked at your door, opening it slowly as she poked her head into your room, "Dinner is done if you still want to eat."

Forcing the best smile you could manage, you muttered, "I'm actually not feeling very good. I think I'll just go to bed." You wished you could say you hadn't seen the disappointment written all over her face, clearly let down by you pulling away again, but she nodded nonetheless and shut the door as she trudged away again.

You laid in bed for hours unable to fall asleep, listening to every noise outside with hitched breathe. Was that little knock Peter? Was he at your window? By the time your phone told you it was nearing sunrise, you gave up. He wasn't coming, and you tried to ignore all the horrible thoughts that consumed you.

What if he was so injured he couldn't make it to you? What if he was out on the street somewhere, hurt badly and in need of help? You cursed yourself for hanging up, but you couldn't bring yourself to call him back. It was a strange battle of worry and anger, with anger winning out in the end and stopping you from reaching out.

You were angry at Peter for his stupid plan, causing you to think of all the awful things he seemed to keep at bay during the daytime. You were angry at those men for hurting him. Mostly, you were angry at yourself for being so stubborn. Why were you being prideful and letting the anger stop you from making sure he was alright?

You: are you alive

Peter Parker: yes

Peter Parker: go to sleep

Peter Parker: see you tomorrow?

You: yes. good night.

SERIES TAGLIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton @zendayasfwb @sweet-symphony

[no-goddamn-cilantro]

I got a bug, so I decided to write this ridiculous nonsense.

Adventures in Babysitting

The ship hummed softly as the power-down sequence began, and Rocket was quick to hop out of the pilot's chair and make his way back to the makeshift child seat Gamora insisted he use. Something-something safety, something-something, blah-blah-blah, whatever.* Groot's safety is and always will be number one, but it's insulting that she thinks a glorified bucket with a seat harness is going to do shit. Rolling his eyes to himself, he lifts the "baby carrier" by the handle and disembarks, wincing in the bright sunlight on Peter's home world.

He probably should have told Peter he was going to come, see if the guy had any family to visit. Ah well. Too late now, time to meet his old pal to drop off the kid before getting down to business.

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

Dyn Jarren was, to put it mildly, exhausted. After Sporog, there had been nine other planets, either too hostile or where they were too easily found. Nine.* So he'd decided to... Branch out a bit. Hit the next Galaxy over- he had contacts there, a Mandalorian covert hiding away on the moon of some backwater planet called Terra where the locals had barely managed to intrude on the dead rock, let alone notice the comings and goings of the refugees on their own moon. One of these Terrans had even gained that most precious of commodities years ago, the Mandalorian's trust.

There were three shootouts, a target's gills getting infected with fishrot, and said Terran actually convincing the target to be encased in Carbonite willingly. It was a wild four days, but the man was trustworthy, never having breathed a word of what happened during his "spirituality retreat."

Landing in a tucked away copse of trees near his contact's current location, he hefts The Child into his arms, turning his head to shush him gently.

"None of that. It's faster if I carry you."

Without another word he disembarked down the gangplank and set off at a brisk pace, following the coordinates in his helmet's display.

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

Keanu was sitting in the sunny Northern California early afternoon, dozing off if he were to tell the truth, at the rather larger home than he really needed that had been rented for the next week. He wanted plenty of room for Rocket and his young ward to explore and relax though, so this was his best option. It was secluded, no neighbors for miles, with a dense forest to the back and miles of vineyards in lieu of the missing neighbors.

A coo only a few feet from him caused him to jerk fully awake suddenly, eyes opening to see a man he'd never expected to see again and- was that a child?

Standing, he greeted the unexpected guest from outer space with a pleased smile.

"Mando! Man, wow, it's been like- six years? How are you? And who's this little guy??" As he approached his face broke into a more intimate grin as he made eye contact with the tiny green child, delight lighting up his face as The Child gifted him with another coo.

The Mandalorian, for his part, gives a neutral hum that borders on pleased. "This is The Child. We're currently hiding from parties that want him dead- or worse. I was hoping we could lay low here for a while- is that alright with you?"

Keanu, for his part, is astounded at that story, but the only question that passes through his lips is, "Mando, have you not... Named your kid?"

Despite being able to see exactly none of the Mandalorian's face, he can practically feel* the other man's blush. "... It hasn't been important so far."

"Mando!"

"Keanu." Unexpected, deadpan snark from his friend, but he rolls with it. Abruptly, he remembers his manners and invites them hurriedly, offering food and beverages. Dyn declines both for himself, but soup for The Child if he has it. Keanu does and quickly begins heating some on the stove. While that's working, he tries to figure out how to tell the bounty hunter about his other, expected visitor.

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

As it turns out, the Mandalorian wasn't terribly fussed about his having other guests, so long as they didn't try to harm either the man or the* child, though the Terran man was subjected to a hard stare he couldn't see but could definitely feel when he mentioned his other guests were "a little unusual-looking."

Rocket, true to form, didn't bother with knocking, though Keanu was openly relieved he used a door at all for entering the abode. The bipedal raccoon, on the other hand, was distinctly and obviously uncomfortable. With a blatantly false smile across his snout and speaking through his teeth, Rocket jerks his head a few times back towards the living room from the doorway of the kitchen where he'd abruptly halted.

"Hey, Neo, need to talk to you real quick. In here. Away from the bounty hunter."

The implacable stare of the helmet followed them out of the room and until they turned the corner, Rocket leading his friend halfway up the stairs leading to the bedrooms. Before Keanu can speak, Rocket is standing- somehow- on the railing and gripping the collar of his jacket, pulling him close to mutter threateningly in his face. "I don't know what that guy has told you, but I don't have any more bounties on my head. I went straight, we all went straight, we're doing good now. I won't let some Mandalorian asshole with out of date information skin me for credits, you got it?"

"I'm not here on a bounty."

Both man and raccoon in the stairwell jump, looking down at the Mandalorian standing with crossed arms. He continues, unperturbed by the blatant hostility of the raccoon that scampers down the stairs to stand eye to... Well, hip, until he takes advantage of the banister again. "I'm just laying low for a while. Needed a place to hide. Keanu mentioned you were coming." At the last sentence Rocket glares back at the man, before Mando dryly adds, "We were unexpected. You weren't."

Keanu decides that he needs a strong mug of tea.

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

So once helmet-head and his little goblin child are settled in the dining area, Rocket goes to collect Groot and his- bucket, no, carrier- from where he'd left him napping in the sun. He is completely unsurprised that his own little monster child has managed to escape the prison of the child seat and is frolicking in the yard after a butterfly or some shit. Rocket allows himself the barest moment of tender enjoyment of watching Groot just be happy, before he knuckles up and shouts across the open lawn.

"Hey Groot, come meet your babysitter! I don't got all day, hurry it up!" The tree person- is he a shrub right now? He's small enough to be a shrub- comes scampering across the yard, stopping in front of Rocket, crossing his arms, and indignantly huffing.

"I am Groot."

"Yes, you do. I can't leave you on the ship by yourself for a couple of days."

"I am Groot!"

"Because I'm the adult and you're not right now."

"I am Groot?"

"Keanu. Don't give me that look, that's his real name."

"I am Groot."

"Look who's talkin'! You think either of us have room to be critical of someone else's name?"

"... I am Groot..."

"That's what I thought. Now c'mon, he's waiting inside and he made you food, so be grateful."

He takes his ward's hand, leading him inside. More to himself than anything, he mutters, "But Keanu is a weird fuckin' name..."

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

The second meeting with the children present goes much smoother than the first. They sit and share a meal- with the exception of Dyn Jarren, who answers endless questions about Mandalorians, his helmet, his weapons, and anything else Rocket can think of to annoy him with, with a remarkable amount of patience- if not without more of the snark Keanu witnessed earlier. The fathers then send their children to play, with stern warnings about not leaving the yard that are, the Terran is sure, going to be completely ignored. He has to grip Mando's sleeve to get him to sit and stay after some noises of play begin and the man slightly panics.

Rocket, for his part, decides to refuse to be this much of a worrywart over Groot upon observing the bounty hunter's near-palpable anxiety over his foundling.

Keanu decides to get into the practicalities of the next few days, asking what each child likes to eat, when they're supposed to sleep, and what discipline they're used to, ready to take notes.

Both Mandalorian and raccoon stare at him blankly after the first question. He tries again, starting with what he thought was the easiest question.

"what time do they generally go to sleep?"

"Uhhh, Groot just sorta passes out when he's tired. Usually about... 9ish? I guess?"

"Does he nap during the day?"

"How'm I supposed to know, I'm workin'! He just sleeps when he's tired."

"Mando?"

The bounty hunter's shoulders drop slightly in what might be classed as defeat. "He sleeps all the time in about two hour chunks, then he's up for about five." When the Terran blinks at him in what looks a lot like confusion, he sighs. "I've tried getting him to sleep longer, but unless he ends up using his abilities, it's just not happening."

Keanu nods in what appears to be deliberate lack of judgement, making notes on either side of his page. Rocket snatches the paper almost as soon as he's done with his bedtime notes, barking a laugh at the name given for The Child.

"Mando Jr.? Really, bounty hunter? You couldn't come up with anything better?"

"... I didn't come up with it."

"So what's his real name?"

"... It's not important. That'll do for now."

And so the conversation went, discipline being a similarly baffling subject for both of them. When it came to food though, they found surprising common ground.

""Frogs.""

Keanu made a continue gesture after they both looked at each other in surprise, before Rocket jocularly punched Dyn on the shoulder. Dyn, for his part, just seemed exhausted. Keanu could relate.

"Soup. Small bits of meat... Mushrooms. Insects if he can catch them."

"Groot'll eat anything, kid's a trash compactor. We done here?"

Keanu is more than happy to finish out the conversation there, releasing them to go check in on their kids before headed out. Sometime in the last few hours, Rocket had decided a Mandalorian was pretty good backup for what he was doing and asked if Dyn would like to come along. The bounty hunter had sighed heavily before nodding his agreement.

Which brought them back around to the sitter conversation that now had Keanu reaching for the tea kettle again.

It was going to be a long three days.

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

Keanu, for his part, was pleased to discover Groot had no problems retreating to his and Rocket's room at 9pm for bed. The Yiddling, as was the name that seemed to stick for the sitter, was another story.

He whined, he grizzled, he even squealed a time or two. The Terran just kept calmly holding the kid and bouncing gently, singing half-remembered lullabies to the child as it slowly, eventually, tired itself out. Keanu very gently lowered the child into the crib he'd acquired from the bounty hunter's ship before they left, taking the three steps back to his bed to collapse backwards into the sheets and blissfully drop off after hours of soothing a fussy toddler who could move things with his mind.

For two hours. Then the crying began again.

It was a long night for everybody, and the sitter was more than happy to go start the coffee pot just as the first fingers of sunlight began to creep over the treetops behind the house. By the time he had breakfast prepared for the two children under his care, the kitchen was bathed in golden morning sunlight. The two ate well, then his little tree-like charge turned to him with a stubborn tilt to his head.

"I am Groot."

"A nature walk? Why?"

"I am Groot!"

"I somehow really doubt the forests of Earth are your ancestral home."

"I am Groot!"

"... You know what, an excellent point. You two can find all the frogs you like and I won't have to attempt to catch any for you. We'll go in a little bit, okay? I need to pack you both lunches in case we're out for a while, and I need to put together that thing."

"That thing" was, in fact, a jogging stroller for doubles. A quick overnight delivery after the arrival of not one, but two children in his care necessitated it, and it had arrived promptly at 8am. He cleaned up after his little charges, helped them both wash their hands in the sink, and then sent them to play for a while as he carefully read the instructions for assembly.

One hour, two bandages, and a hurried, "don't repeat that!" tossed in a nosey Groot's direction after some overheard profanity, and the babysitter had the stroller ready. He packed two quick lunches based on the Yiddling's preferences- as his was the more specified, and Groot really would eat anything, including the plate- and got them all out the door, a bag of essentials that he resolutely would not call a diaper bag tucked into the very-convenient compartment beneath the seats of the stroller and took them down the path that had a trail head right there in the backyard. Keanu decided Groot really did have an excellent idea with this.

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

Two hours later Keanu was smugly pleased with both the nature walk and the double stroller. Both kids were passed out asleep in their stroller seats, snoring gently with the remains of their lunches clasped gently in sticky fingers- twigs? Claws? Fingers was just easier for Keanu's exhausted but triumphant brain- and resting lightly in their laps. He was now taking a leisurely stroll back to the house, enjoying the peace as much as communing with nature.

And so that's how the three spent the next several sleep-deprived days. Breakfast, stroller, wander through nature (one extremely disturbing frog-hunting hour around a pond that he's never mentioning to another living soul except for maybe their parents) lunch and afternoon naps, playing tag and other such games in the yard, dinner, and then a fraught bedtime with the little Yiddling.

When their parents returned, Rocket was nearly bowled over by an excited Groot, being squeezed happily by suddenly very long toddler tree arms. The Mandalorian was passed The Child by a tired but very happy Keanu, who reported to both parents that they were good kids and behaved. Mando was surprised in equal measure by both the Yiddling- he was keeping that name for him, thank-you Keanu- falling asleep in his arms immediately, and the sitter in question's flabbergasted stare that soon melted into a soft, gentle smile.

As they each departed for their ships after what was decidedly a warmer and noisier splash than The Mandalorian had wanted to make on this planet, they were both secretly pleased at just how comfortable their children had been with the Terran, and at how well they'd been able to work together.

Perhaps they'd have to do this again sometime.

[artificialqueens]

I'm From Azusa (Biadore) - doctor bitchcraftt

There’s only one place Adore can think of to go after an argument with her mom.

A/N: The argument described is purely hypothetical, but based on Adore calling out “fans” for spreading rumors / bothering her mom online.

Contains cuddling and Bianca’s much softer side. Xoxoxoxo.  -bitchcraftt

********

Adore is aware of the driver eyeing her every time he glances in the rear view mirror, but she couldn’t care less.  She knows she looks a complete mess - red eyes and flushed face, wearing a hoodie too light for the unusual Southern California chill with her phone clutched tight to her chest.  Thankfully, he keeps his mouth shut, and silently passes back a box of Kleenex.

She ought to have stayed and stayed calm, but it was too much tonight.  After the shouting and denials and running out of the house, all she could think to do was order an Uber and give them the address of the one place she knew she was always welcome, no questions asked.

********

A large book on fashion history open in her lap, Bianca contemplates the remainder of her evening.  There’s no less than four messages from friends on her phone, inviting her out to dance or late dinner.  She’s got some time off between legs of her tour, and spending the night at home with the dogs and a new book feels like the right thing to do.  

Half an hour later, Bianca is at her worktable sketching out a sleeve design inspired by her reading when she hears her phone going off on the coffee table.  She finishes the shapes with a few quick pencil lines before heading back into the living room.  The phone stops buzzing just before she reaches it.

There’s a missed call from Adore, which is rather surprising.  She’s supposed to be spending a few days with her mom, and Bianca hadn’t expected to hear anything from her until tomorrow morning at the earliest.  

Smiling, Bianca settles back on the couch and hits redial.  It connects on the first ring, but the fond greeting dies on her lips.

“B…?"  Her voice is shaky, and road noise fills the background.

"Adore."  She sits straight up. "Queen, what’s wrong?”

Adore’s breathing keeps hitching like she’s trying to hold back tears.  “Can I come over?”

Bianca is already moving to the front door, flicking on the porch light.  “Of course, but I thought you were in Azusa until Monday?"      

Silence, broken only by the sound of sniffling.

”…okay, we’ll talk when you get here.  How long?“

Adore’s voice murmurs the question away from the phone, and Bianca can hear the sound of someone else talking but not the words.  

"Twenty minutes.”

********

She’s abandoned the book on the table and regretfully closed Dede and Sammy in their play area, out of the way of her pacing.  Bianca thinks about texting Bonnie to find out if she knows what’s going on, but decides to wait.  The last thing Adore might need tonight was questions from her mother and Bianca both.  

The sound of a car outside and footsteps catch her attention, and she’s at the door in seconds, catching Adore in a hug.  Stepping backwards, she pulls her into the house and waits for the front door to close before speaking.

“What do you need?  Water?” She can feel the negative headshake, and tries again.  “Need me to call your mom?”

Adore stiffens, and she leans back in alarm.  She wasn’t kidding on season six when she described her mother as her best friend…Bianca feels a tight knot of fear in her stomach.

“Adore, did something happen to Bonnie?”

Bianca isn’t expecting the bitter laugh in response.  “No, she’s fine, I guess.  We fought.  I didn’t know where to go, but here.”

She doesn’t point out the fact that Adore’s own apartment is less than ten minutes away.  “Of course, but I could have come out there if you needed me.”

Another headshake.  They’ve made it to the couch, Adore pressing herself into the corner.

“Can you tell me what happened?"  Bianca still isn’t sure that she shouldn’t call Bonnie to figure this out, but that can wait.  She uses her sleeve to dry some of the tears dripping off Adore’s chin.

"Remember that Insta live I did last week after we went out?  Where I was super drunk?”

“Which time?” Bianca teases gently.  There’s been a few occasions recently, but none stand out in her memory as something that could cause this.

That brings the ghost of a smile.  “Someone found mom in Facebook and messaged her.”

Bianca frowns.  Bonnie knows Adore is living the party girl fantasy, can’t imagine why she would be bothered by her drinking.

“They told her I was messed up on crack or meth or whatever.  She flipped out when I got home tonight.  Said I’d end up like…"  Like my dad, hangs unspoken in the air between them.  

"What the fuck?"  Bianca knows she’s being too loud, but, "You don’t do that shit, she should have told whoever it was to fuck off.”

Adore turns her eyes up towards the ceiling, blinking rapidly.  “Yeah, you’d think.  I told her, but we fought.  And I left.”

That’s something Adore and Bonnie are going to have to figure out; there’s not much Bianca can do to fix that, much as she wishes otherwise.  The storm of tears seems to have passed at least, and she sags against her shoulder.  Adore is half in her lap and Bianca starts to shift her back towards the cushions, stopping at the wordless noise of distress.

“Queen, I’ll be right back.  Just going to get some water.”

A headshake.  “ ’M okay.”

She sighs.  “All right.  Going to be dehydrated later though.”

“Don’t care.”

“You’ll care later,” Bianca tries one more time, feeling Adore’s arms tighten around her waist, face pressed against her chest.  “Okay.”

They sit in silence, broken only by concerned whines from the dogs and Adore’s occasional hiccups.  When she can feel Adore starting to slouch, Bianca shakes her gently.  

“Let’s get you to bed.”

“Stay."  Adore sounds sleepy but determined.  "Don’t wanna be alone.”

Bianca rolls her eyes.  “I wasn’t going to make you sleep by yourself.  Come on, you can even have all of the pillows."  For a purported mermaid, Adore is surprisingly solid and doesn’t budge.  Leaning to the side, she ignores the whine of protest.

"I’m grabbing a blanket, some of us get cold,” she murmurs and Adore loosens her grip just enough that she can reach the throw behind her.  Settling back, she covers them both and briefly considers trying to get up long enough to turn off the lights but rapidly dismisses the idea.  Her leg is going to sleep and she’s fairly sure her back is going to be cramped in the morning, but if Adore wants them to stay there, then that’s a done deal.

She runs her fingers though the messy hair, waiting until Adore’s breathing evens out in exhausted sleep.  Bianca picks up her phone again, and starts clearing her backlog of email.  They’ll figure it out in the morning.