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doctorstethoscope · 3 years

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The Right Chapter Nine || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Hello and happy Tuesday besties! ICYMI, I posted a bit of smutty goodness for all of you 18+ folks here. If you’d like to be added to my general Hotch fic taglist please let me know!

Read previous chapters of this fic here!

contains: canon-typical discussion of violence, food mention, therapy, cuddling.

wc: 2k

When you woke up the next morning, there were flowers in a vase on your bedside table. You’re smiling before you’ve even wiped the sleep away from your eyes, grabbing the sticky note that was stuck to the vase.

“Would’ve sent these to your desk, but figured that wouldn’t go unnoticed by a team of behavior experts. Hope they made you smile anyways. -AH

An expert on behavior and he was only hoping that he could make you smile, you laughed to yourself, rolling out of bed and finding Aaron in the kitchen with a mug of coffee, packing Jack’s lunch.

“When did you find the time to do that, Hotchner? Don’t you ever sleep?” You asked, and he looked up at you, breaking out in a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugs, looking back down to his carrot slices as you cross the kitchen in pursuit of a cup of coffee. He places the knife down and tugs you closer to him by the palm of your hand so he can drop a kiss to the top of your head. It makes you feel warm all over. You hear the insistent smacking of small feet on hardwood and step away from Aaron in an instant, not wanting to be caught by Jack.

“Morning bud,” Aaron calls across the kitchen. Jack responds with a yawn, which makes you giggle. He smiles at you.

“Are you gonna have to go catch bad guys again?” He asks. “I missed you and dad.”

“Oh little man, we missed you too! We probably won’t get called away today but I can’t say for sure. If dad and I come home tonight, do you want to have a special movie night so we can all spend some time together?”

Jack nods ferociously, and practically starts buzzing with excitement. “Can we watch monsters inc?”

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites!”

“Dad?” Jack looked to his father for confirmation.

“Of course, bud. But you’d better eat all of these carrots I’m packing in your lunch if you want a treat.” Aaron smiled at Jack, who agreed easily. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the bus.” He said, ushering Jack out the door with a Danimals and an orange while you finished getting ready. You were struck for a moment by how easily you had slid into the Hotchner boys’ morning routines, and you realized that you would miss it once you found your own place. But it was for the best-- you hoped that you and Aaron would be serious enough to consider living together, but you didn’t want to force it too early in the relationship and cause problems.

When Aaron comes back, you’re dressed and ready to head off to work. He grabs his briefcase and suit jacket off of one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

“D’you eat?” He asked as he pulled his jacket over his arms.

“I had coffee. I’m not a big breakfast person.” You tell him, surprised that he hasn’t already noticed this about you.

“Grab a fruit.” He tells you.

“Did you eat?’ You ask him, and the tips of his ears turn pink. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, Hotchner. Why don’t you grab a fruit.” You teased, tossing him an orange from the bowl and tucking a banana into your purse as you stepped out the door, with Aaron locking up behind you. He wrapped his free arm around your waist as the two of you walked to the car.

“I have something to tell you, and you’re going to be mad at me.” Aaron confesses about halfway through your drive to work.

“Ah, so that’s what the flowers were about.” You said facetiously.

“No, the flowers were from your boyfriend, this news is from your boss.” He clarifies.

“Oh?” You asked, needing him to explain more.

“You’ve got a psych eval this morning.” He confesses and you groan.

“Ugh, Hotch, really?”

“Even if we could ignore what happened with Josh-- which, for the record, you shouldn’t-- you were held hostage by an unsub.”

“For like, twenty minutes!” You interrupted him.

“It’s bureau policy, dear. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“And you can’t just say that you gave me the psych eval and I passed?”

“No,” he tells you, sighing. “For us to be together, we need to keep everything above board. Hopefully no one starts on a warpath when we decide we’re ready to share this, but if they do, I don’t want to give them any reason to undermine your professional credibility by arguing I gave you special treatment.”

You’re a little bit stunned by Aaron’s use of “when” rather than “if.” It’s not in a bad way, of course-- it’s actually, really, really good, to hear that he’s just as in it as you are, even if you hadn’t expressed it very well yet. The idea that he’s already thinking about the future-- even if it is your professional future, not exactly a white-picket-fence kind of future-- gives you butterflies. You realize you’ve waited too long to respond when Aaron speaks up again.

“I understand if that’s a lot for you to take on, or if that makes you rethink things. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you decided this wasn’t worth the potential professional issues.” He adds nervously, clearing his throat. You reach over and put a hand on his thigh.

“I think you’re worth the risk,” you smile at him, and watch him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Thanks for coming in,” Laura, one of the FBI’s resident psychologists said as you settled into the couch in her office. You err on the side of politeness and decide not to point out that you didn’t really have a choice.

“Not a problem,” you smiled at her.

“So how are you feeling?” She asked.

“I’m good. I’m happy to be back at work, and to get my field clearance back. I’ve missed it.” You tell her.

“That’s right, you’d been removed from the field for a head injury.” She said, peering over your file. “Service related?”

“No, I fell down a flight of stairs,” you lied, hoping she couldn’t read you as easily as Aaron could.

“Hmm, so you travelled with the team even though you weren’t cleared for field work?” She asks, and you’re pretty sure you’re not imagining the judgement in her tone.

“I didn’t go into the field. I stayed at the police station, in compliance to orders from my doctor and from Chief Hotchner. Unfortunately, the field came to me,” you attempted to make a joke. She didn’t laugh.

“Was it not possible for your duties to be completed from Quantico?”

“No, it wasn’t. The behavioral analysis unit works as a team-- we’re able to determine profiles as successfully as we do because we collaborate. My efforts, and the work of my team, would have been severely hindered if I had stayed behind.” You answer mechanically, trying, and most likely failing, to not sound defensive. “I fail to see how that’s relevant to my experience with Alec Gordon.”

“I’m just trying to determine if you’re engaging in a pattern of self-endangering or careless behavior.” Laura answers honestly.

“I can assure you that my attitude regarding my work and the work of my team is anything but careless.” You bite back.

“You came back to work very quickly after your concussion.” She says, and it’s not a question, so you don’t take the bait. “Any particular reason for that?”

“I felt ready to return, and Chief Hotchner was willing to accommodate my need to work partial days until I was fully recovered, so on the advice of my physician I returned to work on a modified schedule.”

“Agent, I don’t need to tell you that withholding information in our session or on the forms you filled out prior to our appointment today, will only hurt you.”

“With all due respect, I haven’t withheld anything and I resent the implication.”

“Very well, agent. I will have a complete evaluation sent to your supervisor by the end of the business day.”

“Thank you for your time,” you smiled, trying to make it look real.

“The door is always open, agent.”

“So, you kind of beat me to the punch this morning,” Aaron tells you as you’re walking out of the office together.

“What are you talking about?” You asked.

“Well, the flowers were a part of my master plan to get you to agree to come to dinner with me tonight, but it seems you’ve made other arrangements with my son.” He smirks at you as you both climb into his SUV.

“I guess now you know where you stand in the ranking of Hotchner boys.” You tease him.

“It won’t get me ahead of Jack, I know, but will you let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night?”

“Aaron,” you laughed. “You don’t need to take me out to dinner.”

“Yes, I do.” He tells you.

“We already live together. You’re going to have dinner with me regardless of whether or not we eat it at a restaurant.” You tell him, gesturing to his place as he parked the car.

“Maybe so, but you’ve already decided that we won’t be living together much longer. I care about you, and I want to spend time with you, and I’d like to take you out to dinner.” He said, shifting to face you now that the car was stopped.

You rolled your eyes fondly, feeling yourself blush. “I’ll allow it.”

“God, it’s like pulling teeth,” Aaron muttered sarcastically, breaking out into a grin as you laughed.

You both got out of the car and headed inside, where Jess and Jack were working on a puzzle at the kitchen table.

“Dad!” Jack says, looking up to see his father and abandoning the puzzle, launching himself into his father’s arms.

“Hey, buddy. Did you have a good day?”

“Yes, and I ate all my carrots so that I could have a special treat while we watch Monsters Inc.”

“He’s been waiting to tell you that all afternoon,” Jess laughed, standing up from the table and crossing to you to give you a hug. When Haley died, you and Jess got a lot closer, through Jack. “It’s good to see you,” she says as she squeezes you.

“You too.” You smile. “I’ve got to go change into my special movie night clothes,” you smirked, leaving Jess, Jack and Aaron in the kitchen.

“Jack, why don’t you go put on your pajamas, and we’ll start the movie in a little bit?” Aaron suggested, and Jack scampered off towards his room.

“Do you plan on ever telling that girl how you feel about her, or are you just going to look at her like she hung the stars in the sky for the rest of your life?” Jess asks Aaron bluntly.

“I can’t possibly be that obvious.”

“Aren’t you literally a behavior expert?”

“It’s being handled, Jess.” He assures her with a quick grin as you emerge from your room in soft flannel pants and a tank top.

“Do you want to stay, Jess? We’re just gonna order a pizza and veg out.”

“I wish I could. But you kids have fun.” She said, looking between you and Aaron. Jack comes running out of his room to give his aunt a kiss goodbye and you all settle on the couch.

Jack inserts himself in the middle of you and Aaron on the couch, a slice of pizza on a paper plate in front of him with the promise of ice cream later on. Aaron’s arm rests across the back of the sofa and his hand plays gently with the hair at the nape of your neck. You tilt your head in his direction, pulling Jack into your lap so you can scoot closer as the movie plays on. Jack falls asleep before you can even get him his ice cream, and you take the opportunity to rest your head on Aaron’s shoulder, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and tracing comforting patterns into the skin of your upper arms until the credits roll.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x you

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Will you accept me? [Loki Laufeyson x Reader]

Title: Will you accept me? Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Avenger!Female!Reader Word count: 4.1k Published: 19 May 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: Firstly, this is my first ever Marvel fic, so go easy on me. Secondly, Infinity War and Endgame didn't happen in this house. I accept none of that. Summary: [x] In the past three years you’ve been trying refrain yourself from murdering the mischievous God, or so you have been telling yourself that. Your little game with Loki has been driving you crazy and if that wasn’t enough, you had to admit that a part of you enjoyed his company, regardless of how much you tried to hate him.

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Loki Laufeyson was nothing, but a mischievous little boy stuck in a man’s body. His mere presence lit a raging fire within you, wanting to remove that smug grin across his face. God of mischief they said countless times in the past three years, but you could only see a man who found enjoyment in dancing on your nerves.

The first time you met him, it became very clear to you that there would be no boring moments around the man, so when he left earth, you finally felt like you could breathe again as if all your frustration disappeared into thin air. You had nothing against Thor, but you wished he would just stay in one of his many realms and leave Earth forever. Of course, it had nothing to do with him per se, as far as you were concerned Thor could have stayed on Earth and it wouldn’t have bothered you. But Loki was brought along like an unwanted package, making your life miserable as though you were his little toy. So, each time Thor returned to Earth, you didn’t feel like welcoming the God of Thunder because his lap dog was attached to his hips.

As to why Tony Stark decided to give him a place to sleep in the compound, you didn’t understand, after all Loki had tried to wipe out your planet. Tony was one of those who hated Loki the most, but somewhere along the line, as though he had gone mad, he decided to give him a second chance. So, for the past 3 years you have been trying to refrain yourself from carving Loki’s eyes out, from trying to stab him in his sleep when he stayed longer than he should have. It took you a great deal of effort not to murder him in his sleep.

It doesn’t mean you haven’t tried. Oh, you did indeed. Although it took you two years to get to a point where you couldn’t handle him anymore.

One night, feeling brave or reckless, whichever is a more reasonable statement, you snuck into his room, rage building up inside you, wanting to end his miserable life. Oh, but you were naive. As you swung your dagger, stabbing it straight into his chest, it went straight through his bedding set, the astral projection of his body disappearing.

“My sly little vixen, did you really think I would make myself so vulnerable?” He asked as you looked over your shoulder, his dark form seated in the corner of his room. A proud smirk was plastered across his face, his smug smile lit by the lights towering over the large building on the outside, carefully finding their way through the blinds. “But regardless of your intent on taking my life, I’m rather pleased with your bravery,” he chuckled as he stood up and walked over to you, earning a loud groan from you as you held your dagger to his chest, this time feeling his flesh under the edge of the blade.

“I could kill you now,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He leaned closer, his mouth right beside your ear, his cold lips brushing against your earlobe. “I dare you to,” he whispered into your ear, his hushed voice sending electricity through your spine, making your breath hitch. “I’m waiting, my little vixen,” he smirked. Although you couldn’t see it, you didn’t need to, you could read his tone, his body language, the little games he was playing. He found enjoyment in riling you up and you fell victim to him. He leaned back to be able to look in your eyes, his signature smile still plastered across his face. “You see, I understand that rage within you, feeling exhausted from our little games, but that’s only the surface. If you dig just a little deeper, you will find that even if it’s only a tiny part of your fragile mortal body, but it craves that attention, it enjoys our games. You can deny, oh you have been doing that for the past two years, but a part of you, a part that’s honest and dares to accept the truth knows that I’m right.”

A part of you wanted to argue and push the dagger further into his chest, wishing to watch his gaze become glassy, his soul moving onto Hel or Valhalla, though the latter seemed unlikely. But even against all his manipulation and tactical little games, always steps ahead of you, it was clear even to you that he was right. A part of you, even if it was hard to accept, found your shared games somewhat amusing. But you couldn’t say it out loud, you couldn’t agree with him. It would have broken the spell, the core of your entertainment. It was fun only because you never accepted to enjoy it. If you ever voiced the truth, it would have ended it all.

“You wish,” you hissed through gritted teeth as you dropped your arm beside your body. “I will have many other chances and when you expect it the least, that’s when I will be giving you a chance to go back to wherever the hell you came from,” your lips formed a thin line, your gaze holding determination. Those were the words you said aloud, but nothing like the ones you thought of. “Watch your back, Loki,” you whispered into his ear, before you headed towards the door, ready to scold yourself for the night in hopes of regaining your sanity.

“Good night, darling,” he chuckled silently as you stepped out of his room, shutting the door behind you with a loud thud. You couldn’t care less about who could have heard it, as fun as your little games were, they were also playing with your mind, leaving you flustered and frustrated. Loki affected you in many ways from your body to your mind, physically and mentally. You hated it, but at the same time, a part of you enjoyed it.

You tried to shake off the memory, but some of your encounters often appeared in your mind at the most unwanted times, as though a part of you missed him already. It’s only been months since he has left with Thor again, but since then life seemed somewhat boring. Although it was refreshing to focus solely on your duties as an Avenger and work hard for your people, but at times it felt as though there was a lack of something in you, a tiny part of emptiness.

Leaning back against the sofa, you continued to clean your guns. It was a small task that you could have entrusted F.R.I.D.A.Y. with, but this little chore brought you a sense of familiarity, a calming sensation in the midst of your storming thoughts.

“My dearest, why do you look so upset?” You heard his voice, but you didn’t look up, knowing it wasn’t reality. Another little game that your mind started to play with you, making you feel as though you were going insane. “Have I made you mad?” He chuckled playfully. You lifted your head, eyes growing wide as realisation hit you. He was indeed there. He was standing right beside Thor, wearing a smug grin, your presence seemingly bringing enjoyment to him. A part of you wanted to smile, mirror his expression, but instead you chose to play his game and rolled your eyes.

“Yes, you have. The day you decided to appear on this goddamn planet,” you groaned, concentrating back on your gun, cleaning it with a dirty cloth. Those words that left your lips weren’t the ones you wished to say. But you were afraid, terrified of being honest. You knew as soon as you admitted enjoying his company, he would stomp all over you as though you were a mere bug on the ground. A useless piece of life that he had no gain in caring for. So, you bit your tongue and played along.

“Now, now, my dear, that’s not a nice way to welcome a guest,” he smirked, raising a brow quizzically, finding your tone amusing.

“You are no guest to me,” you huffed as you placed your gun back in one piece. “You are nothing but an itch on my back, a fly circling around me, an annoying presence that I can’t seem to get rid of,” you lifted your head, meeting his emerald-green irises, their colour even brighter than you remembered. His gaze felt as though it was burning you up from the inside, your unrhythmic breathing drying your lips, your heart taking on a dangerous pace.

“Why, thank you,” his smile didn’t falter if anything it grew. “I must be doing something right if you can’t get rid of me,” he chuckled with a playful glint in his eyes. “Tell me, do you think of me often? Do you find yourself remembering all those memories we had the pleasure of spending time together?” He leaned closer, placing his hand on the small of your back, his touch making you shiver, his cold lips brushing against your ear, just like on that particular night you could never forget. “Do you think of me before you go to bed, maybe whilst you are in the shower?” He leaned back with a smug grin still painted across his face. “Or perhaps as soon as you wake up, your first thoughts are occupied by your memories of me? If I’m that hard to get rid of, I’m terribly proud of myself,” he chuckled as he let go of you and stood up. “Well, unfortunately I have to leave, but as always it’s been a pleasure meeting you,” he watched you with an intense gaze as he licked across his bottom lip, before he turned away and joined his brother.

As soon as he was out the door, you had sunk deep into the soft couch, planning a way to clear your head, because you weren’t sure how long you could play Loki’s games before you were declared completely insane. A small part of you just wanted to be honest and tell him how you really felt that indeed you enjoyed his company, that there were more to your feelings than simple entertainment, but a larger part of you knew if that ever happened, Loki would be long gone before a surprised gasp could even escape your lips.

To avert your thoughts, you decided to head to the training room and beat some sense into yourself. Trying to get rid of your frustration meant your body needed to tire out, so for hours you kept hitting and kicking the punching bags, imagining one particular person in its place. You hated him, you despised him, or so you tried to tell yourself, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Your feelings were indeed strong, but not of hatred, rather some sort of an attraction that you couldn’t really explain because you convinced yourself that hating him would be the logical decision, regardless of your feelings not matching your thoughts.

Time flew by quickly and before you knew it, the sun had gone down, and darkness ruled over the sky. You headed back to your room, taking a hot shower to clear your mind before you decided to grab a bottle of wine from Tony’s collection and drown yourself in your toxic thoughts. There was no escape, you might as well just give in, at least that’s how you thought.

You leaned against the kitchen counter as you opened the bottle of wine. Ignoring formalities, you didn’t take out a glass to pour yourself from the liquid, you placed it straight to your lips and chugged as much as you could, hoping it would silence your thoughts.

“Darling, you seem to be troubled,” you heard his voice, a sharp exhale leaving your lungs as you turned in his direction. He was leaning against the doorframe, wearing a small smile that you haven’t seen much of. It was usually smug or playful, but in that moment, the expression across his face just seemed soft.

“I wasn’t until you arrived,” you rolled your eyes, taking another long sip of your alcohol, trying to numb your mind.

“Shall I help you relax?” His face changed into his usually smug grin as though he was planning something.

“I think I can manage. As a mischievous God you would just cause more trouble than you could possibly help,” you huffed, knowing he always had a plan a, b, c, the whole alphabet and beyond.

“I’m not a mischievous God, I’m the God of Mischief,” he corrected you with a momentary surprise before he regained his composure.

“Same difference,” you shrugged nonchalantly, earning a silent chuckle from the man.

“If that makes you feel any better, call me whatever you want,” he stepped closer to you, stopping right in front of you as you took another sip of your drink. You watched his green eyes staring at you shamelessly, studying your face as though he was trying to read you.

“Can you stop staring?” You asked with a questioningly raised brow, but it only earned a silent chuckle from the man.

“No, I don’t wish to,” he replied as he stepped closer and with a swift movement, he turned you around. Your head shot back around over your shoulder as you met his playful gaze. “I mean no harm,” he meant to relax you, but you didn’t trust him, nor did you trust yourself in his presence. His cold fingers caused goosebumps on your neck, making you slightly shiver as he brushed your hair to one side and placed his palms on your shoulders, slowly massaging the tense muscles. You gasped at the feeling, the idea of a god massaging you felt unearthly.

“What are you doing?” You asked cautiously, although the feeling of his fingers on your skin made you feel weak in your knees, his breath fanning your skin making your heartbeat speed up. A part of you just wanted to lean into his touch and enjoy the moment.

“I’m helping you relax,” he whispered in your ear as you realised you were completely devoured by his presence. You couldn’t even recall when he leaned so close to you, you could only focus on his cold touch burning your skin.

“Why would you do that?” You questioned his intentions, a silent gasp leaving your lips as he found a tender point.

“Do I always have to have an ulterior motive?” He asked, but you could hear the proud smile in his tone. You turned back around, a deadpan look across your face, his touch leaving your skin.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” You asked, squinting suspiciously.

“Fine, I’m often motivated by certain ideas, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be genuinely helpful,” he tried to convince you, but you shook your head.

“Loki, what do you want?” you tried to just finish the conversation to drown yourself in your bottle of wine.

“How long has it been?” He asked, earning a confused frown from you.

“What are you talking about?” You tried to take a step back, but the kitchen counter stopped your movements.

“How long have you been pretending to hate me when in fact you know it couldn’t be farther from the truth?” His face fell serious, his previously playful expression long gone.

“I haven’t been pretending. It’s not my fault that you think it’s a game. I hate you and I think I made myself very clear from the first time we met,” you attempted to convince him, but his smile returned even wider than before.

“Still adamant I see,” he scoffed as he stepped closer, his arms caging you against the furniture behind you, his face getting closer to yours, only leaving just enough space for you to be able to breath. “So, you mean to tell me that my presence doesn’t affect you in any other way, it only brings you hatred?” He asked as his gaze wandered down to your lips, watching them intensely as though he was an animal wanting to catch his prey. Your breath hitched as his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest, a silent gasp leaving your lips as you shivered in his cold touch, still your skin burned feverishly.

“That— that’s right,” you stumbled through your words, your own confidence leaving you vulnerable.

“For once, be honest with me, dear and accept that you enjoy my company,” he whispered against your lips, your mind feeling dizzy, incapable of forming a simple, coherent sentence.

“I— That’s not— I hate you,” you finally composed yourself and pushed him away from yourself.

“Why can’t you just accept it?” He asked, this time more serious than before. “Why is it so hard for you to be honest with yourself?”

“Says you, who can’t be trusted even when you ask a question? Oh, please, Loki, you should know better,” you huffed as you folded your arms in front of your chest. “You say I should accept that I like being around you, that I don’t hate you as much as I say so. But why would I do that?” You asked as you walked up to him this time, standing in front of him sternly. “Let’s say, hypothetically of course, that indeed I don’t hate you per se and a part of me might enjoy being around you from time to time. If that was true, why would it be beneficial for me to accept it? I know you Loki and if I was to agree and say you were right, you would walk all over me and disappear faster than I could take a breath,” you huffed as you shook your head.

“Well, my little vixen, hypothetically speaking,” he started in a humorous tone, “if you stopped acting like you have no feelings for me and finally accepted that your hatred might not even be hatred but something more, we could actually break down this wall between us that you so carefully built and we could enjoy being in each other’s company,” he explained as though it was the most natural thing.

“Loki, you can’t possibly believe your own words,” you scoffed, earning a surprised expression from the man, your resistance catching him off guard.

“And why is that?” He asked curiously.

“The only reason you enjoy playing around with me is because I behave the way I do. In reality, nothing is black and white and so if I was to hypothetically enjoy your company, that means there would be disagreements, there would be fights, there would be emotions and Loki, let’s be honest, you find it even harder to trust people than I do and as soon as things would turn serious, you’d run,” you explained your worries. Even though the conversation was supposed to be theoretical, both of you spoke the truth, but the lack of trust hung high in the air.

“If that was my intention, I would have run a long time ago. I had the option to do so many times before, but I’m still here, am I not?” He asked as he brushed a piece of hair from your face behind your ears, his touch sending electricity through your body.

“I just feel like I can’t trust you,” you shook your head, letting your face fall forward, massaging the bridge of your nose, before you lifted your gaze again “I feel like if hypothetically speaking of course, I accept that there’s more to it than simple hatred, it will end in my feelings stomped on and my heart crushed into piece and I’m not naive enough to let that happen,” you tried to reason with him, but in reality you were trying to convince yourself why not to put your trust in him.

“I have to admit, I would have done so, years ago that is, but the one who I am now wants nothing more than to claim you mine,” he spoke in an endearing tone, his voice serious, but somewhat caring, unlike his usually cocky personality. Your eyes widened at the confession, his words ones you never thought you would ever hear from someone like him. “If it was someone else, I wouldn’t care what happens to them, I’m not a saint after all, but with you it’s different. You are my sly little vixen, my other half and nothing and no one can change that, only you if you wish to of course,” his voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, his words making you feel uncertain about what to do. Your mind and your heart battled against each other, confusing you further. “Will you accept me finally?” He asked with an expectant expression.

“I have been trying to stop myself from murdering you for the past three years, it’s not as simple,” you tried to argue, but the words leaving your lips were more to convince yourself.

“Well, that is very romantic,” he replied with a low chuckle as you mirrored his expression. “That’s a good start,” he pointed out the smile across your face. “I’m not saying it will be easy, nor do I see it will be perfect, but isn’t it worth a try?” As much as you wanted to argue, he was right. If you didn’t accept your feelings, it would forever be a ‘what if’ stuck in your head and deep down you knew you wanted to see where you two could go from there.

You stepped closer to him, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself, or so that was the plan, but as soon as you touched him, your hands went through his body, his astral body disappearing. “Loki!” You raised your voice in a warning tone, your deadly gaze looking for the man, his silent chuckle coming from behind you. You turned around in a swift motion, hitting him across the chest with gritted teeth both out of frustration and testing if it was his real self this time.

“I’m so sorry, love, I wasn’t sure how you would react, you can be rather unpredictable at times, so I had to have a backup plan,” he tried to explain himself, piling up excuses upon excuses. “But now that we are on the same page, we could get back to what you were trying to do. Did you want to kiss me? It looked like you were about to kiss me. Shall we try again?” He smirked proudly as he stepped closer and wrapped his strong arms around you. You tried to resist, attempting to push him away from your body, but his strength was unearthly, you didn’t stand much of a chance.

“Not happening. That was your one and only time to see a weaker side of mine. I don’t even believe what you ask anymore. I hate you, Loki!” You groaned, trying to get out of his hold.

“No, you don’t,” he replied with a smug grin across his face, dipping his head down to your level, but he didn’t move any closer. Your breath stuck in your lungs, your gaze fixed on his lips, however you tried to battle against your heart, your reasonable thoughts flew out the window as soon as Loki closed the gap between the two of you. His cold lips touched yours, sending a shiver across your spine, thousands of butterflies awakening in your stomach. Could you have resisted? Yes, if you really wanted to. But deep down you were craving for him and when his lips met yours, you melted into his arms and bathed in the physical pleasure his arms around you provided, the feel of his touch on your skin burning, a long-awaited connection bonding the two of you. As you finally parted, you gazed up into his green eyes, a loving look painted across his face.

“I still hate you though,” you added with a mischievous smile, as he mirrored yours.

“You really should watch that tongue of yours,” he warned you as his gaze fell on your lips.

“Why don’t you watch it for me?” You asked with an inviting tone and without a second thought Loki captured your lips again. It was hard to believe that he was holding you in his arms, but you chose to trust him and even though you knew there would be difficulties with the God of Mischief, a proud man being your other half, but not for a second did you think about taking a step back. It just felt right.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating and supporting me on Ko-fi. Of course, it’s completely your choice, I will continue updating for free anyway :) Thank you <3

Taglists are in reblog from now on. Send me a message if you would like to be added :)

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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years

Note

Hi! I'm wondering if you can make a list of fics where Erik's jewish heritage isn't ignored? I just came across the fact that a lot of authors don't explore this part of him for some reason and i found it kinda upsetting so i'm wondering if you have any recs! I liked "As They Kiss, Consume" and "Who Shall be King Hereafter" by sherwoodfox, in case anyone who's reading this ask is interested in the same topic.

Hi Anon. I'm sorry for taking so long with this list but your request sent me on a wide search for fics that fit with your request. I tried to find a variety of fics where Erik's Jewish heritage is addressed. Some of them aren't necessarily cherik, but most of them are. I hope you enjoy this list.

Mistletoe, Latkes, and Long-Term Revenge Strategies – pocky_slash

Summary: Charles knows that Erik hates working at a department store in the best of times. Being Jewish in a department store during the holiday season is far from the best of times. He does what he can to help.

A Nice Boy (the Family Matters Edition) – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

A Road Trip to Pennsylvania – Aainiouu

Summary: For a year Charles has nurtured the biggest and most embarrassing crush known to man towards Erik. They are friends and roommates and when Erik asks Charles to accompany him to home on Thanksgiving of course Charles goes.

In the Bleak Midwinter – keire_ke

Summary: It is not easy to find out, well into the second decade of the twenty-first century, that your mother arranged a marriage for you. It is even less easy to convince her that you have no interest in the very fertile Magda, she of the wide hips and lustrous auburn hair. Fortunately, with a good friend at his side over the holiday weekend, Erik is sure he will prevail.

Speech Making – phalangine

Summary: Modern Emma AU- Charles Xavier, accomplished matchmaker and headmaster of North America’s preeminent school for mutants, intends to add another notch to his belt: setting up his friend Moira. His oldest friend, Erik, has doubts about this plan.

Charles doesn’t share them.

This is life (and everything’s all right) – pocky_slash

Summary: Edie Lehnsherr came into Charles' life long before he ever heard Erik Lehnsherr's name, and her death left a gaping hole in the lives of everyone in Charles' family. As the first Purim without her approaches, he begins to get creative in his efforts to bring everyone out of their grief. Kitchen creativity, however, is not quite his strength....

Bashert – AvengingAngel

Summary: Erik and Charles meet and fall in love. I wanted to write a story where Erik had a huge family. Pretty fluffy (for me anyways). I suck at summaries.

Note: The summary doesn’t reveal much but if you’re looking for a fic where Erik is jewish and has a large family with a heavy dose of cherik fluff and angst then this one is for you.

Math Reasons – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: "Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

Ser

It’s kind of our whole things – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: After two years of best friendship, Charles and Erik thought they knew everything there was to know about each other. They're surprised, then, when their first summer as a couple reveals that they have a lot to learn about each other and themselves.

Sequel to Math Reasons

A Winter in New York – nextraordinaire

Summary: Charles and Erik have been childhood friends for as long as they can remember – Erik, living with his mother in Queens, and Charles in the big mansion in Westchester. For all, expect themselves, it was just natural progression that they'd end up together.

A series of ficlets from the same universe – can be read as separate and are out of chronological order.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside – heyjupiter

Summary: "It's just, this is my first Chanukah away from my parents. And it's--it's like 90 degrees out."

Erik Lehnsherr and Kitty Pryde celebrate a Genoshan Chanukah. It's a little different from the way it used to be in New York, but some unexpected visitors help them embrace the spirit of the holiday season.

Hold Back the Rain (front!strict mashup) – euphorbic

Summary: Charles Xavier: society darling, powerful political activist, well-known professor, and Dominant.

Erik Lehnsherr: anti-social, international motorcycle racer, and defiant submissive.

Erik is at Sepang in Malaysia for the fourteenth leg of the International World Championship. After doing poorly in qualifying, he's furious to find he has to take another VIP around the track instead of meeting Charles at the KL airport.

The Swan – waitfornight

Summary: In 1939 Erik and his sister Ruth are sent to Devonshire, England, during the Kindertransport refugee program to live with Kurt and Sharon Marko as foster children just before the start of World War II. Angry and wishing he could return home on the night of his seventeenth birthday, Erik meets a boy alone in the forest who is cursed to transform each day into a swan, only taking his true form by night.

Swan Lake AU.

The boy with the heart on his sleeve – euphorbic

Summary: Charles loses a high-stakes bet to Raven and is required to get a tattoo. However, when he makes a disparaging remark about the art form, Raven's acerbic mentor, Erik, steps in.

Or, the one where Erik and Raven are tattoo artists.

The Wurst Case Scenario – sareyen

Summary:If anyone asked why Charles, come rain, wind or shine, made the significant trek during his dismal lunch hour to dine at "Edie's Kosher Delicatessen", he would stubbornly say that it was because their pastrami on rye and potato knishes were absolutely to die for. He wasn't completely lying, because the deli's namesake, Edie Lehnsherr, made the best matzah ball soup Charles has ever had in his life. Still, Charles would rather shave his full head of hair off than admit that the real reason he would willingly walk through hail and fire to get to the corner deli was because of Erik, the insanely attractive man working the counter.

Sure, Erik has barely spoken two words to Charles other than "Hello, what can I get you?" or, after the third day in a row that Charles came to the deli, "Welcome back, what can I get you?", but Charles was more than happy to just ogle at the man from afar while devouring the juicy wurst Erik had put together with his (large and very capable) hands.

But, little does Charles know, Erik doesn't usually work the front counter. He only does it when he knows the cute blue-eyed man will be dining in.

This is life (and everything’s all right) – pocky_slash

c'est regarder ensemble dans la même direction – melonbutterfly

Summary: Since that day on the beach, Charles and Erik have learned to agree to disagree for the sake of living and working together. Then, for Christmas, and Charles gives Erik Hanukkah back a second time, and their relationship shifts a little further.

Terrible Hanukkah Sweaters and Other Life Challenges – professor

Summary: “Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Shrapnel – librata

Summary: It's late 1940, and tensions between the Axis and the Allies are tightening. Displaced and alone, 16-year-old German Jew Erik Lehnsherr finds himself employed as a servant by some snobby, terrible family in England whose house is far too big and whose money never seems to end. The worst part is, he isn't just mucking stables or cleaning plates–-he's tasked with tending to the whiny, disabled son named Charles, who might just drive Erik into absolute madness.

Or, the World War II fic in which Erik and Charles experience a changing world and a lot of teen angst.

Defying Expectations – Baamon5evr

Summary: Charles and Erik meet each other’s family. Neither of them gets what they expect.

table for three – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik should have known to call ahead to the Chinese restaurant--it's Christmas Eve and he lives in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood, after all. But before he can go home to mourn the loss of another one of his mother's yearly traditions, he's accosted by a teenage girl with a strange proposition--that he should stay and have dinner with her and her mother, instead.

different from all other nights – metonymy

Summary: "This year we are slaves; next year we will be free." Kitty and Erik host a seder for Passover at the Xavier School.

Libertad – ariadnes_string

Summary: Erik knew the look, had seen it his whole life, even before the war. ”You, with your height and blue eyes and straight nose, you can pass. You can be free of us. You are not marked with your difference.” If you only knew, he’d thought then. He thought the same thing now. And it was that thought, as much as anything, that made him move towards the gate.

Wash Away – sebastian2017

Summary: One quiet, lonely morning, before Yom Kippur, Erik makes his way to the sea in search of forgiveness.

After? There is No ‘After’ – Unrepentant_Marvelist

Summary: Erik knows what he is for. He has known his responsibilities as a survivor since the moment he woke under a scratchy, lice-infested blanket in the Red Army hospital. His world is painted in lucid blacks and whites (so often splashed in red) and there is no room for uncertainty or indecision... until a certain sunburned Englishman throws himself into his world.

The Children of an Idle Brain – Margo_Kim

Summary: Sometimes, when he’s lucky, Schmidt can’t hurt him. It’s like there’s a room inside of Erik’s head that’s he’s usually locked out of, that won’t open no matter if he beats himself bloody against it. On those days, he endures. But sometimes—and Erik doesn’t know why, whether it’s that the stars align or some higher power takes pity or Erik screams loud enough to earn his reward—the door opens. Erik can duck inside and slam it behind him and watches himself through the windows as Schmidt slowly, methodically tortures him to strength.

These days, this past week, there’s a boy in the room with him and he tells Erik, “That’s horrible,” like that means something.

Somehow, across the world, Erik's and Charles' minds touch when they need each other most. They can't be sure that the other boy is real. They suspect that he is not. But that doesn't mean they aren't each other's lifeline until they lose each other and then for a while longer.

Tehillim – kvikindi

Summary: Erik, in Israel, afterwards: another life he could have had. If.

I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) – childishinquiry

Summary: Erik has worn long sleeves his whole life, even before they had to wear yellow stars. Marching along his arm, in neat, black, English letters, are the words "My name's Charles Xavier."

Precious Few Years – sherwoodfox

Summary: Erik and Charles (known only to each other by the letters inscribed on their wrists) are meant to be together, soulmates, destined for the most powerful kind of love and connection a human being can experience.

But they are separated in almost every possible way- by distance, by circumstance, by language, by war. Their chances of success- of finding one another in the labyrinth of the world- are very slim. There is a reason why most people never find their soulmates.

But of course, Charles and Erik aren't ordinary children-

They have their gifts.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #Erik is Jewish #holocaust #asks #earnestly answers

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knuffled · 3 years

Text

Just Practice - Chapter 16

it’s here! i know i said this last chapter, but this is the most important one in the fic so far now. hope you enjoy it! if you could leave a comment and reblog, it would mean the world to me! thank you!

ao3 link here

The state cross country meet was held on a cold, gray April morning. Rainfall from the night before had left the ground muddy and slick, and clouds still lingered in the sky, obscuring the sun. Mist seeped out of the woods and crept across the ground, coating each blade of grass with dew. Annabeth toyed with her jacket’s zipper and watched her teammates file off the school bus. Coach had left her in charge of finding a spot for the team to warm up before the race, which meant a lot of standing around in the cold.

Annabeth chaperoned her team in search of an unoccupied spot, but it looked like they were late to arrive. Much of the grounds had already been camped by other schools. As they passed, Annabeth made mental note of the competition that had gathered. She recognized two girls from Northbrook who had placed higher than her at state the year before. There was the girl from Creston that beaten her to second place at the invitational. A few runners from Seneca Falls passed by from time to time, but Reyna herself was not among them.

Once they were settled, Annabeth led the group stretches in Coach Davis’s stead. The chill quickly sank into her bones and the wet grass drenched her yoga pants, only adding insult to injury. Annabeth could hear her teammates’s teeth chattering when the cold wind blew past. They were uncharacteristically solemn, even the younger ones. State tended to have that effect. The effort to stay focused was evident by the grimaces on their faces, but more than that a cloud of anxiety hung over them. Annabeth had hoped Coach Davis would have some words of encouragement for them but she was nowhere to be seen.

Strangely, this was perhaps the one meet that Annabeth did not share in their nervousness. She was so accustomed to being a bundle of nerves during meets that it seemed completely bizarre to feel otherwise. Today, however, it was like Annabeth was so focused she didn’t feel anything at all, but it wasn’t a strained focus. Instead, it was somehow relaxed and effortless. Percy had described the sensation to her before when she had asked him how he managed to stay so calm before swim meets, but she had never understood his explanations. Now, experiencing it firsthand, she couldn’t help thinking it was a good omen.

Coach Davis returned just as one of the meet officials announced the women’s five kilometer would begin shortly, and Annabeth approached her once she was done with her stretches.

“I think you should say something to them,” Annabeth muttered. “They look like they’re going to puke.”

Coach raised an eyebrow. “Me? You’re the captain. Rallying the troops is your job.”

Before Annabeth could protest, Coach stood in front of the team and cleared her throat. “Alright, listen up everyone! Your captain has a few words for you all before the race.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and balled her hands at her sides. She wasn’t one for speeches. Still, the tentative, expectant look on the faces of her teammates compelled her to say something.

“Um, congratulations to everyone that made it here,” Annabeth started. “For some of you, this is your first time competing at state. It’s normal to be nervous. I know I certainly was my first time here. But, I want you to know you’re here for a reason. Trust in all the hard work and dedication that brought you here, and make sure when you leave here today, you do so with no regrets!”

Looking at her teammates now, Annabeth couldn’t help feeling a lump form in her throat. “I, um, also just wanted to say that it has been an honor and a privilege to be your captain this year. I know I haven’t been that great at it, but I couldn’t be more proud of you all. Now, this is the last race of the season, so let’s go out there and make it count!”

The cheers of her teammates took Annabeth by surprise and embarrassed her. She shifted on her heels and felt her face heat up. Even she herself was taken aback by how well she had spoken. A few of her teammates thanked her or clapped her on the back when they passed by. Even Clarisse gave her a begrudging nod of respect before jostled past her on her way to the starting line. Annabeth hid a smile and shook her head before she turned back to Coach Davis.

Coach gave her a thumbs up and said, “I didn’t know you had it in you, kid. That was a killer speech.”

Annabeth breathed an incredulous laugh. “Don’t expect me to do it again. That was one hundred percent luck.”

Coach shrugged and said, “Who knows? Maybe today’s your lucky day.”

“I sure hope so.”

Coach Davis threw an arm around Annabeth’s shoulder. “I know so. Next time I see you, you’re gonna be holding a first place ribbon in your hand. You’re gonna kill it today, Chase.”

Annabeth ducked her chin to hide a smile. “Thanks, Coach. I’ll do my best.”

Coach gave her a final clap on the back and whispered, “Go get ‘em, kid.”

Annabeth nodded and jogged over to the starting line. Since she was late to arrive, Annabeth didn’t even bother jostling for a place closer to the head of the pack. It was nothing she couldn’t make up within the first few minutes of the race anyways.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her body felt lighter than normal. Her mind was clear. Around her, tension droned in the air like a buzzing bee, but she felt removed from it all. She couldn’t bring herself to feel nervous, even as the official raised his gun and squeezed the trigger.

This was it, Annabeth mused. Her last high school race.

And then, the gunshot shattered the silence and Annabeth took off into the misty woods.

The ground was so soft and slippery that it was difficult to maintain proper footing and weave between all the other runners during the initial scramble to find a place. It didn’t take long for mud to cake her shoes and shins, much to her chagrin. But, after a few minutes, Annabeth found herself a spot towards the head of the pack.

The pace Annabeth held for the first half of the race was faster than the one she had adopted at the invitational, and as such it wasn’t long before she pulled into tenth. Since the new year, she had focused almost exclusively on her stamina, training to her limits. One Reyna’s greatest strengths was that she could sustain a brutal pace for the majority of a race. That alone gave her enough of a cushion to make it practically impossible to make up the distance by the end of the race. Annabeth realized that it was essential to keep up with Reyna until that point if she wanted to stand any chance of beating her.

All of that effort finally showed results when Annabeth managed to push into third place twelve minutes into the race. The girl from Creston was ahead of her, but Annabeth could tell that she was faltering. Her pace hadn’t improved since the invitational but Annabeth’s had. Annabeth’s suspicions proved correct when she managed to pass her only a minute later and pull ahead into second place.

Now, there was only one last obstacle. Reyna was ahead of her, but her lead wasn’t so large that Annabeth wouldn’t be able to make up the distance. If she had to estimate, there were perhaps a hundred meters between them, and she had the better part of three minutes to close it.

Annabeth set her jaw in grim determination and picked up her pace. Deviating so early from her race pace was risky, but she couldn’t afford to play it safe if she wanted to beat Reyna. She was doing fine in terms of stamina, and there was enough adrenaline coursing through her to give her confidence that she wouldn’t burn out.

Over the next two minutes, Annabeth managed to shrink the distance from a hundred meters to twenty. Reyna even heard her coming and fixed her a steely look over her shoulder before facing forward again. Even in the heat of competition, Annabeth couldn’t help taking a moment to admire Reyna. Her form was still immaculate this late into the race. There was something beautiful about the sheer efficiency of it. The only sign she was even working hard was the sweat on her brow.

But with six hundred meters left to go, Annabeth was still unable to bridge the distance between them. The remaining distance made things tricky. It was too much for her to abandon her pace and launch into a sprint. Honestly, her legs were already having a difficult time maintaining her current punishing pace, but Annabeth couldn’t afford to go into the final two hundred meters of the race behind Reyna. With a headstart, Reyna would beat her ten out of ten times in a sprint.

So, Annabeth made a bold gamble and abandoned her pace early.

Sprinting for over a third of a mile was not possible. Annabeth knew that. At best, Annabeth guessed could manage a little under four hundred meters at close to a sprint. Ideally, she would pull far enough ahead during that time and Reyna would be unable to make up the distance during the final two hundred meters.

Annabeth dug deep into what little stamina she had left and pushed herself as hard as she could. She grit her teeth and ignored the way her lungs immediately burned in protest. Reyna gave her a look when Annabeth managed to pull alongside her, but then she subsequently increased her own pace.

Annabeth wanted to scream. Reyna had an even faster pace?

Before she could spiral into negativity, Annabeth forced herself to calm down and re-evaluate the situation. She had no way of knowing, but it was entirely possible that she was throwing Reyna off her pace. If Reyna hadn’t planned for that, it could deplete her stamina much faster than she would have anticipated. Which meant that it wasn’t impossible for Annabeth to win.

Of course, it was all complete conjecture. Maybe Reyna had practiced for this very situation, and Annabeth was doomed. But if there was even a remote possibility that Annabeth was throwing her off her game plan, she would take it. If she could force a war of attrition, Annabeth could actually see a world where she could win.

Don’t slow down. Just keep running.

The following two minutes were perhaps the most brutal in Annabeth’s entire running career. It felt like her lungs were tearing themselves in two, and her calves burned like they had been coated in acid. The simple act of breathing was painful. At some point, her mind blanked out, and she slipped into a kind of trance. Thinking was no longer a necessary function. All that mattered was putting one foot in front of the next. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

But then, for the first time in the race, Reyna began to falter. Her shoulders were hunched and her stride grew inconsistent. It was subtle but cracks were beginning to appear.

A rush of excitement swept through Annabeth.

She could win this. All she had to do was deliver the finishing blow.

Just one final push, and state was hers.

Annabeth reached into the last vestiges of her stamina and pushed forward, desperate to pass Reyna for the first time.

But then, she hit a patch of mud and slipped, hyper-extending her leg.

Her left knee made a popping sound.

A bolt of pain unlike anything she had ever felt before shot up her leg.

Annabeth released a cry of pain and fell into the mud. Her mind was still blank, so it took her a moment to register what had happened. Once she came to, Annabeth desperately scrambled to her feet, but her left leg gave out on her the moment she put any weight on it.

She tried again only to fall face first into the mud. Annabeth blinked in disbelief and looked up. Reyna was getting further away. This couldn’t be happening. She was going to lose.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!

Annabeth pounded the ground with her fist, hard enough to bruise her knuckles. She laid there in the mud, lacking the energy and the will to sit up. Anger wracked through her like venom.

She had finally been about to beat Reyna. Just a little more, and she would have done it.

But now, she had no shot.

It was all over for her.

At this point, she wouldn’t even finish the race.

Mud crept into her mouth, forcing her to finally sit up. Annabeth spit it out, but the taste of defeat lingered on her tongue. She brushed away the tears pricking her eyes and blearily took in her surroundings.

It was so quiet. Her knee throbbed in agony. Reyna had stopped. Mist curled around Annabeth’s waist. The ground trembled ever so slightly, heralding the onrush of runners.

Wait, Reyna had stopped?

What was she doing? Why was she just standing there? The other runners were going to catch up to her.

She watched in disbelief as Reyna walked over to her and dropped to a crouch, a strained look in her eyes. “Can you stand?”

Annabeth blinked blearily. “What?”

“Can you stand on your own?” Reyna repeated. “Or do you need help?”

Annabeth screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I- I don’t understand-”

Before she could react, Reyna tugged her onto her feet and threw Annabeth’s arm over her own shoulder. Reyna held her hip and pulled her into her side to support Annabeth’s weight before her knees buckled from under her.

The girl in third place sped past them without so much as a look.

Annabeth stared at Reyna with wide eyes and hoarsely asked, “W-What are you doing?”

When Reyna didn’t answer, Annabeth squirmed in her grasp. “Let me go.”

“Shut up.”

Three more girls passed them in rapid succession.

“Let me go,” Annabeth pleaded, her voice cracking. “You’re throwing the fucking race! Let me go!”

Reyna refused to look at her. “I said shut up.”

A lump formed in Annabeth’s throat, and she found herself fighting back tears. She didn’t think it was possible, but this was somehow worse than injuring her knee.

“Wha- Why?” Annabeth stammered. “Why are you going so far for me?”

“Because we’re friends,” Reyna said simply. “Now, let’s get going. We’ve got a race to finish.”

Annabeth barely registered the journey to the finish line. Her knee throbbed in pain the entire time, and her heart felt like it was tearing itself in two. It was already bad enough that she had completely fucked up the race, but the fact that she had stolen Reyna’s victory too was more than she could bear. At the rate she was going, Reyna would have broken the state record and placed nationally if it hadn’t been for her. Annabeth could already tell that she would never forgive herself for this.

The next thing she knew, they had stopped. Annabeth blinked and looked around, trying to figure out where she was, only to find herself standing right in front of Percy and the rest of her friends. Her throat seized up, and her heart squeezed in her chest.

The look on his face made her want to die.

Reyna helped Annabeth into Percy’s arms, a wordless understanding passing between them. He immediately supported her against his chest, and Annabeth melted into him. Usually, his scent was enough to calm her down, but not today. Today, it just made her sad. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and clutched at the fabric of his shirt, her lip quivering.

“P-Percy,” Annabeth whispered, voice cracking.

He held her tightly against him and ran his hands down her back. It was hard to say why, but that gesture was what broke the levy and allowed her to finally cry. Annabeth sobbed in his arms and held onto him like a lifeline.

“Get her to a hospital,” Reyna muttered.

Annabeth could hear Percy speak through his chest. “What happened?”

“She fell. Badly,” Reyna said tersely. “I did my best to get her here, but she’s yours now, alright? Take care of her for me.”

Percy’s grip on her tightened. “I will. I promise.”

There was a pause before Reyna nodded and turned to leave. But before she could get too far away, Percy called out to her.

“Reyna?”

She looked over her shoulder and met his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Reyna paused for a moment and nodded one last time. And then she was gone.

:::

The sky had begun to darken before the hospital staff allowed Percy and her friends in to see her. She had spent nearly two and a half hours in triage with the doctor and nurses. They asked her a lot of questions and ran some preliminary tests on her, mainly to measure her mobility, before they decided she would need to stay overnight. They didn’t know what the issue was for certain until they ran some imaging tests, but their tentative diagnosis only affirmed Annabeth’s worst fears.

After that, she was allowed to take a bath and changed into a hospital gown. Her knee was put in an elevated brace to keep her from putting any weight on it. The position was remarkably uncomfortable, but she had no other options than to bear it.

It was only after that that her friends were allowed inside to see her. They rushed inside and crowded around the bed, except for Percy who lingered by the doorframe. Annabeth fleetingly met his eyes and quickly looked away.

“Oh, Annabeth, we were so worried about you,” Rachel cried, taking her hand.

Frank nodded and quietly said, “They made us wait for so long that we thought something might have happened.”

Annabeth mustered a wan smile. “You mean apart from my knee getting completely fucked?”

Her friends looked at each other before Jason stepped forward and said, “We were afraid they had pulled you into surgery or something.”

“They still need to run a few tests before that,” Annabeth said.

“Do they know what’s wrong yet?” Piper asked, furrowing her brow.

Annabeth did her best to shrug. “They don’t have any leads just yet,” she lied.

There was an awkward silence before Hazel cleared her throat and said, “Well, let us know if there is anything we can do for you.”

“I think I’ll need a change of clothes and some toiletries probably,” Annabeth said.

Piper nodded to herself and made some notes on her phone. “Got it.”

“Anything else?” Rachel asked.

“Nothing for now,” Annabeth said, trying to smile. “Just some bed rest.”

“Alright,” Rachel said, nodding. “Let us know if that changes or if anything comes up.”

Annabeth nodded. “Sure, I will.”

They lingered for a short while longer before a nurse popped into the room to yell at them for having too many people in the room.

Jason sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I guess that’s our cue to leave. We’ll see you later, ABC. And remember: anything you need, we’re here for you.”

Annabeth nodded and waved feebly while they filed out of the room. Only Percy stayed behind, but she had suspected as much. She had been dreading talking to him most of all. When he got worried like this, he wouldn’t let her get away with weaseling her way out of talking.

Percy stood by the base of her bed and offered her a soft smile. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.”

“I tried calling your dad, but he wouldn’t pick up,” Percy said. “Sorry.”

Annabeth nodded. “I figured as much.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Alright, I guess,” Annabeth said. “My knee sure hurts like a bitch though.”

“What happened?” Percy asked. “Reyna said you fell.”

“I mean, yeah, pretty much,” Annabeth said, sighing. “I was about to pass her, but then I slipped on some mud and hyper-extended my leg or something. Next thing I know, my knee is completely fucked and I can barely stand.”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Annabeth said, trying for a shrug.

“How are you feeling?”

Annabeth looked at him. “You already asked me that.”

“You told me how your leg was doing, not how you were doing,” Percy said.

“Don’t have the decency to let me wallow in my own misery, huh?” Annabeth joked half-heartedly.

“Afraid not,” Percy said lightly.

Annabeth sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t really know, honestly. Hasn’t really sunk in yet. Just can’t help thinking the universe sure has a sick sense of comedic timing that’s all.”

Percy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I was so close, Percy, so fucking close,” Annabeth said. “Just a little more and I had Reyna beat. But, when the time came, I fucked up like I always do.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Percy said. “You were just insanely unlucky.”

“I know,” Annabeth said, smiling sardonically. “That’s what makes it so funny. I’ve spent the last six years of my life training my fucking ass off, and all it took was one moment to make it all completely meaningless. Isn’t that just fucking hilarious?”

Percy shifted uneasily and said, “Annabeth-”

“And you know the worst part is that I dragged Reyna into it too,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. “She was going to win and place nationally, and I stole that from her.”

“She made that choice herself,” Percy said gently. “Besides, we don’t know if she would have won for sure.”

“Yeah?” Annabeth laughed humorlessly. “Well, here’s something I do know: it would have been better for everyone if she’d left me there in the mud.”

Percy inhaled sharply and said, “Oh, Annabeth. There’s absolutely no way that’s true. And all your hard work wasn’t for nothing either. You still have all of your college career ahead of you.”

Annabeth stared down at her lap, a lump forming in her throat. “But what if I didn’t?”

Percy furrowed his brow and said, “What do you mean?”

Annabeth wrung her wrists. “T-They’re saying that I probably tore my ACL.”

“But you said before-”

“I was lying,” Annabeth interrupted. “I just didn’t want to bring it up in front of everyone.”

There was a slight pause before Percy held a hand to his forehead and muttered, “Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.”

They both knew a torn ACL had spelled the end to many an athlete’s career. It wasn’t a death sentence, but there was a good chance Annabeth would never come back stronger than before her injury.

Percy’s hands tightened around her bedframe. “It’ll be alright. I’m sure that some surgery and rehab will do the trick.”

“Wish I shared in your optimism,” Annabeth said, half-smiling.

“Look, I know it seems hopeless right now, but you’ll make it out. You always do.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “And there’s also a good chance I’ll never be as fast again.”

“Well, I believe in you,” Percy said. “I know how strong you are.”

Annabeth offered him a weak smile. “But what if I don’t believe in me?”

“Then I’ll do enough for the both of us and make up for it,” Percy said gently.

His words should have made her feel better, but instead they lit a spark of anger in her. “Just because you believe in something, doesn’t make it true, Percy.”

Percy must have sensed the shift in her mood and carefully said, “I’m aware of that.”

“No, you clearly aren’t,” Annabeth snorted. “This isn’t something you can just self-help, positive thinking bullshit your way out of.”

“I never said it was,” Percy said quietly.

“But it’s what you meant,” Annabeth insisted.

Percy pursed his lips and looked at her. “What would be more helpful for me to say instead?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you can start by acknowledging what’s really going on,” Annabeth said caustically.

“And what’s that?”

Annabeth sat up straight and crossed her arms over her chest. “How about you admit I might never be able to run competitively again? Or how about admitting I’m responsible for sabotaging Reyna’s victory at state? Admit that my best isn’t good enough, that it’ll never be good enough.”

“And that will help you feel better?” Percy asked slowly.

“Compared to the garbage you were saying before? Yeah, it would.”

Hurt flickered in Percy’s eyes before he took a deep breath and shook his head. “I’m not going to say that.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?” Annabeth demanded.

“It’ll only make you feel worse,” Percy said quietly.

Annabeth ground her teeth and glared at him. “You know, I really hate when you do that.”

Percy furrowed his brow. “What?”

“When you pretend to know how I think or feel,” Annabeth fumed. “Or when you act like you know what’s good for me. It’s so fucking arrogant.”

“I didn’t mean for it to come across-”

“Then stop fucking pretending this isn’t real!” Annabeth snapped. “Do you really not understand how completely fucked I am right now?”

“Annabeth, I get how you feel. Trust me, I do,” Percy said. “But with the right treatment-”

“Percy, I could lose my scholarship over this,” Annabeth interrupted, fighting back tears. “I-I can’t afford to go to Berkeley without one, and I sure as hell can’t ask my fucking parents for money. They couldn’t even be bothered to see me here!”

He paused and processed the information quietly for a few moments before he said, “If we find a good surgeon and a physical therapist, they’ll figure out a way to cure you.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?” Annabeth asked desperately. “What if I never fully recover?”

Percy walked around the side of her bed and took her hand. “Then we’ll figure that out together too.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Annabeth laughed bitterly. “This isn’t your fucking problem. You still have your scholarship. Even if you didn’t, your mom would help pay your tuition. You still have people who give a shit about you. I don’t have anyone like that.”

There was a hint of tragic desperation in Percy’s voice when he said, “But you have me.”

Annabeth looked up at him with a strained smile. “Do I? Do I really?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Percy asked, narrowing his eyes.

“You have been hiding things from me,” Annabeth said quietly. “You’ve been hiding things from me, who knows for how long.”

“Annabeth, what are you talking-”

“Kara Mayfield,” Annabeth said tiredly.

Percy stiffened like he had been slapped across the face, and that was the final nail in the coffin.

“Where you ever going to tell me about her, about what happened to you two?” Annabeth asked softly.

When Percy was silent, Annabeth breathed an incredulous laugh and shook her head. “So never then, apparently.”

“I never meant to hide anything from you,” Percy said. “It’s just-”

“I don’t want your excuses, Percy,” Annabeth said. “Either you don’t trust me enough, or you think I’m too fragile to handle it, like I’m some kindergartner that needs protecting because I don’t know what’s good for me.”

“I’ve always only ever had complete trust in you, Annabeth,” Percy said tersely.

“Well, it sure doesn’t feel like it,” Annabeth fumed. “I have never kept anything from you. I’ve always told you absolutely everything about myself. I guess it just hurts because I assumed that you did the same.”

Annabeth paused and stared down at her lap, digging her fingernails into her palms. “Honestly, it’s fine if there are things you can’t tell me. Like, it hurts but I can live with it. But then what was the point of the fucking ocean of subtext that you’ve been forcing me to swim through since the start of the school year? I just don’t understand why the fuck you’ve been leading me by the nose on this wild goose chase if you’re so unwilling to open up to me. At least have the decency to make up your fucking mind.”

When Percy still continued to remain silent, Annabeth just felt suddenly exhausted, like all the events of the day had caught up with her all at once.

“I’m just so tired of this, Percy,” she muttered. “I’m tired of having to lie awake at night trying to analyze why you said this or did that. I’m just so fucking tired of it, and I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“You don’t think I would’ve said something if I could have?” Percy said tightly. “You think that I’ve liked keeping things from you? It kills me-”

“Then just tell me then!” Annabeth said. “This is your chance: right here! Just fucking say what’s on your mind for once.”

“I can’t!” Percy said, voice cracking. “I- I just can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

Percy was silent for a moment before he whispered, “I don’t know.”

Annabeth bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering. “You’re breaking my fucking heart, Percy Jackson. I really hope you know that.”

Percy took a step closer to her, looking shattered, but Annabeth pointedly looked away at the opposite wall and cleared her throat.

“If you don’t have anything to say, I think you should just leave.”

A suffocating silence draped over them like a blanket, so palpable that Annabeth could almost feel the weight of it smothering them both. She held her breath, hoping against hope, that Percy would finally come out with everything he was holding back, but he didn’t say anything.

She didn’t know how long he simply stood there before he opened the door to her hospital room. He paused between the doorframe for a few moments, and her heart jack-hammered inside her chest.

This was it, Annabeth realized. This was finally how he left her.

Before he could close the door behind him, Annabeth frantically turned to him and yelled, “I’m in love with you!”

Percy froze and looked at her with a searching gaze. Blood pounded in Annabeth’s ears. Maybe now he wouldn’t leave. Anything to make him stay.

It felt like an eternity before Percy withered in front of her. His smile was achingly kind and familiar, but Annabeth was too struck by the hurt in his eyes. She had never seen him in so much pain before. Was that all her doing?

“It’s alright, Annabeth,” Percy smiled. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

His words hit her like a sledgehammer to the face. The door closed and shut behind him before she could react, and then she was alone.

And then she was alone.

#percabeth angst #percabeth #percabeth fake dating au #percabeth fluff #percabeth fic #just practice #knuffled fic

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veliseraptor · 3 years

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got tagged for two fic writer memes yesterday! the one from @ameliarating first:

How many works do you have on AO3?

509.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

3,432,24. dang! that’s a lot of words

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

I have written for...counting the MCU as one fandom, on AO3 I have written for 32 fandoms, including at least one work in:

MCU, The Sillmarillion, Caliban Leandros, both DC and Marvel Comics, the book Barebacked by Kit Whitfield, Doctrine of Labyrinths, Doctor Who, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Star Wars, Black Jewels, Dragon Age, Lucifer, Dexter, Temeraire, Gentleman Bastard Sequence, Supernatural, A Song of Ice and Fire, Greek Mythology, Lymond Chronicles, Merlin BBC, Code Geass, Good Omens, Death Note, and White Collar.

this is not a comprehensive list of every fandom I’ve ever written for, because it is not including ones that live only on FFN or Livejournal.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Life In Reverse tops the list (11066), aka my 200k Loki-centric post-Thor AU fic that I wrote between 2012 and 2018 and with which I have a decidedly complex relationship at this point. I love it but also I no longer think it’s my best work but also I credit it with teaching me a fuck of a lot about writing and writing longer projects in general.

With Absolute Splendor is rapidly catching up, to my astonishment (6559), despite having been posted for less than half as long. Aka the wedding planning fic that’s really just me mucking about in my Jiang Cheng and my Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian feelings, at length.

some good mistakes (4618) was my first foray into the Untamed version of “characters who hate each other going on resentful roadtrips together, feat. Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng.” I have gone on to write others and will continue to write more.

Unraveling (3069) is a little bit of a surprise but also not - it was originally just sort of WWP stuff for my ‘what if people remembered that blunt force trauma is a really bad thing actually’ problem that pops up sometimes, re: Loki at the end of The Avengers, and then it kind of turned into a whole thing. I personally think it’s the weakest of the installments of the series it belongs to, but it is the first one and also the one that gets least into the broader family dysfunction and depression stuff that probably is less everyone’s thing (but is what came out this fic that mattered more to me, personally).

I am a little surprised to see Steve Rogers’ Halfway House for Notorious Supervillains (3068) here too! I was expecting one of the more...idk, mainstream concepts from the MCU to win out? But I also wasn’t expecting two Untamed fics to make it here, either. But I am stupid proud of this fic even if it is very extraordinarily unfinished. This is one of those unfinished fics that will nag at me unless and until I finish it, at least a little, because the concept - if I do say so myself - is so goddamn good and I think I was executing it pretty well, too.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Pretty much never. I was never very good at it and now I’d feel like I had to go back and reply to all of them and I just. I can’t do that. and when I do try to just start at the beginning I get overwhelmed very fast and start avoiding it.

Basically I decided that if it’s a decision between wrestling with myself to reply to comments versus actually doing more writing I’m going to end up landing on the latter as feeling both more doable and more productive.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

probably it’s The Worlds Forgotten, the Words Forbidden for sheer level of “so then what was the point” of it all. but like. I’ve definitely written a few extraordinarily miserable fics, and by “a few” I kind of mean “a lot.” Other nominees I’d put down might be nor autumn falter (for currently personally making me suffer most), once there was a way to get back home (for I think having the ouchiest summary), and Waiting for the Summer Rain (which remains one of my personal favorite Supernatural fics I wrote).

but like. there are 43 fics I have marked with Major Character Death warnings and every single one of those, pretty much, has a downer ending.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I have written several though not in a long time! My craziest probably remains the Morgoth/Cthulhu short I wrote that actually got sporked because someone took it seriously (???) enough to do that. But the craziest that actually has any merit, (I’d argue) is probably the Maeglin/Viserys one.

not linking to either, if you want to go find them I don’t think it’ll be that hard.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yeah, a few times on a few different things. More if you count “people who seem to like the fic but love telling you how much they hate the female characters you’re writing about in it” as ‘hate’ which I would but isn’t, you know, quite as straightforward. If I had a nickel for every time someone bitched about Jane in Life in Reverse, though...lots of nickels.

Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Sure do! But what does ‘what kind’ mean, I don’t know how to answer that question. I feel tempted to just put in my “Mike’s Hard Kinks” image edit in this space.

I guess usually I tend to write smut that at least involves a little bit of a kink? I don’t think I’d feel comfortable writing entirely kinkless smut. I think I’d feel weird about it, the same way I do when I write really nice fic, generally.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I think I did back when but I don’t remember anything about it. I feel like it was one of those mass data scraping things where my fic happened to be among those caught up in it.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! several actually, mostly into Russian and Chinese. every time it happens I’m immensely flattered that someone wants to put in that kind of work on something I wrote.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I think I’d be very, very bad at it.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Depends on when you ask me! I could probably give you a top five but then I’d remember six that I forgot to mention five minutes later. I guess if I were to think about ships that feel like they hold very special particular places in my heart... Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen, Steve Rogers/Loki, and Min/Rand come to mind.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

oh god do you want the whole list cause honestly I could just like. screencap the entirety of my “in progress” folder with a crying emoji watermarked over it. and that’s not getting into the fics that are like...half formed babies in my consciousness but not anywhere on paper.

and also I just hate to admit that I might not finish something.

you know what? the Lucifer/Good Omens crossover I started would’ve been a lot of fun. I’m probably never going to finish it, but it would’ve been great if I had. I know other people did it too but my contribution could’ve been amazing.

I can say this very boldly with the near certainty that I’m not going to finish the fic so no one will be able to disagree.

(...also the Last Herald-Mage fix it. that was going to be a good fic too, and also will probably languish unfinished forever.)

What are your writing strengths?

I’m pretty sure dialogue is my strongest point. Dialogue and emotions, which is why I always end up just wanting to write about characters talking and having feelings at each other.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing action sequences throws me into conniptions every time I have to do it and I will take drastic actions sometimes to avoid doing it at all, which probably weakens the work as a whole.

Also, I don’t plan ahead and this means I write myself into corners kind of a lot. If I wasn’t writing long, dense fic it wouldn’t be a problem but here we are.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I tend to avoid it unless it’s in the context of, as in CQL/MDZS fic, leaving certain terminology untranslated. I’m pretty sure I almost never write full exchanges of dialogue in a different language than I’m using for the narration within a fic, and generally speaking my reaction to other people doing it is at least mildly negative.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter was technically the first fandom I wrote for, but it was a crack fic I wrote to make my friends laugh more than anything; I tend to count Wheel of Time as my first actual fandom for which I wrote my first actual fic.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

some days the answer is “all of them” and some day the answer is “I don’t like anything I’ve written in my entire life” and I never like giving this a definitive answer. yesterday I reread efforts in a common cause (the bound copy!! thanks @spockandawe) and you know what, that was a good fic and I’m proud of it, so I’m going with that one, for this meme, today.

tagging: @mostfacinorous, @jaggedcliffs, @silvysartfulness, @mikkeneko, @kasasagi-eye, @curiosity-killed, how many people am I supposed to tag for this one anyway

#lise memes #confessions of a frustrated writer

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fragileizywriting · 3 years

Text

locker talk (chapter three) is out now!

pairing: Luka / Marinette (Viperion / Multimouse) word count: 9,846 / 26,058 (in total) chapter: 3/3 rating: E summary: Her fingers are in his hair again, somehow, and she grips him tenderly to not hurt and pull at him— but, gooseberries— it’s so much— she’s not even sure how long it takes for her to come back to reality and blink away the stars from her eyes. He kisses the inside of her thigh. “How are you feeling, Mousey?” “I’m—” Her eyes don’t want to focus. She doesn’t even know what she wants to look at. The ceiling? The blanket? Him? “I’m feeling fucked-out.” That gets a laugh out of him. “Cursing twice in one night? I must be doing something right.”

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | Chapter Two Link | You Are Here!

Thank you everyone for being so patient! And thank you for all the love you've given me and this fic! You're the best!

She’s never tasted the bitterness of come before.

Okay— she’s read about it. Extensively. She knows that it makes people’s faces pinch, sometimes, when they taste it for the first time because it’s an acquired taste— that for lots of people, the first time tasting it, it’s… strange. Some people don’t mind the taste, she knows— some people love it. She’s spent countless hours scrolling on the internet reading about it on her laptop that somehow has its fans on full-blast at all times, curious as to what it’s like— curious as to what people think about it and how they describe it and if they enjoy it or not— countless of hours of watching videos of people giving blow jobs and moaning afterwards as come spills out the sides of their lips.

Everyone has a different opinion about it.

She’s seen it all— or at least, she’s tried to, being self-conscious about a noisy computer never helps when it’s late at night and she feels like the walls are paper-thin— practicing her techniques on her silicone toy she wipes furiously clean afterwards, hoping that she doesn’t come off as naive when the time comes to actually go down on someone. She’s read, reread, and overread everything she could get her hands on— trying to prepare herself for this ever-elusive fluid that every single person on Earth seems to have an opinion about.

Because that’s what she does, isn’t it? She reads— makes plans— lives in her head making strategies and plans and overprepares. In every single point in her life, Marinette wants to be ready and impress those around her— desperate to live up to expectations. She wants to be prepared. She doesn’t want to be left behind or considered naive for not knowing something.

Multimouse is never unprepared. Multimouse always has a plan. She always has a trick ready up her sleeve— she always has an objective that she squeaks out in Viperion’s general direction when it’s time to defeat Akumas— she always can keep ahead of the curve and be ready.

So she reads. And researches. And learns.

She hasn’t done nearly as much research for something she already has— so even though she’s looked up tutorials on how to give blow jobs, and what it’s like— she hasn’t technically gone out of her way to properly learn how to give oral to what she has between her legs. Obviously she knows how to please herself— and can use that knowledge on whoever, should they be interested— but no one’s really shown up.

She kind of… fell in love with Luka before anything else.

How could she not?

Still, though, she’d poured over all the magazines she could find about the art of pleasing someone— she’s had crushes on all different types of people, even if Luka always came first. She wants to be prepared— she doesn’t enjoy being completely blind when she tries something for the first time in front of other people. She’s not sure if it’s because of her reluctance to show weakness— maybe it’s a mouse thing, who knows— or maybe it’s a form of perfectionism.

Whatever it is— whatever it was— its accompanied her for many curious and many long hours during the nights where she’d take out her toy and please herself and find out every single pleasure point she enjoys. She’s gotten used to the solo action in her life— she’s gotten used to the signs that her body makes when she’s on the verge of orgasming— or when her body craves more.

She wants to be attentive to everything for her partner. She wants to be knowledgeable, so she doesn’t flounder— the last thing she needs is to freak out or go into something blind— she wants to be attentive and helpful and ready and educated before doing it.

Which is why all of it is a surprise to her when there’s come in her mouth because she forgot to pay attention to Luka’s signs that he was ready to come.

“Holy shit,” His lashes flutter as she relaxes her jaw again to let him slip out of her mouth safely without getting her teeth on him. He’s thicker than her toy— warmer, too— but definitely more forgiving with the back of her throat than hard silicone when she relaxed her gag reflex. It’s good to know that he’s sensitive to the way she presses softly at his thigh and his balls with her fingertips— it’s good to hear that bit of a sharp inhale he gives when she makes eye contact with him while she licks him clean at his reddened head.

She’s so happy that she was able to make him come— she almost grins at him, and then remembers that there’s come in her mouth and it’ll spill. There’s a string of it that bridges the side of her lip to the tip of his cock— she breaks it with another swipe of her tongue, still not breaking eye contact with him, giving the base of his dick a soft squeeze.

“Holy fuck.” His eyebrows start to pinch, almost like he can’t make up his mind on what to say to her. He breathes heavily regardless, peeks of his chest rising and falling underneath that wide shirt of his. “Mousey— that was good. Are you— and you’re sure you’ve never done this before?”

His praise feels like fire all over her body— she gives a little nod, looking up at him through her lashes, trying not to catch flame from how feverish she feels.

“Come on, let’s get you to spit that out in the bathroom—”

She swallows when he reaches for her wrists.

Oh.

So that’s what it tastes like.

She understands now— oh, yes— she wants so much more.

Luka’s eyes widen when all she does is blink up at him with her quaint little smile. Time seems to stop for the two of them— and while she can make so many jokes about it and how although Luka never manages to get caught off guard, given his miraculous is about intuition— he looks completely stunned, reaching for her chin and gently wedging a thumb in her mouth to peer inside. “Marinette— did you—?”

“Uhm, yeah— sorry.” She lets him pet at her tongue, even if it tickles— she’s completely pliable between his fingers. “Did you— did you not want that? Or?”

Something flickers on his face— a combination of humor— of shock— of whatever else that she can’t exactly read. “What?”

“I meant—” She can barely squeak— her voice sounds so fucked— she hides her embarrassment by pulling away from his fingers and pressing kisses up and down his shaft. He doesn’t soften in her hands like she imagined he would— she’s not sure if that’s because of stamina or just arousal, but he’s still thick in her palm. She mouths against his skin when he groans. “Did you not want me to do that?”

“Not what I meant— I just— I didn’t think you would—” He sighs, sitting back into the pouf, and— wow, isn’t that hesitation in his voice so good? He’s weak to the way she cups his balls with her palm— she feels how his muscular thighs twitch under her forearms— how addicting. All of this is so addicting. She tucks him back in his underwear with a smile and a bite of her lip when he makes an effort to still her hands with a soft grip on her wrist. “Are you going to make it a habit of keeping me on my toes?”

She tilts her head just barely to the side, trying her best not to pinch her brows together and bite her lip. “Oh. You don’t like that?”

“I love it.” He’s breathless when he laughs, filling her with excitement again. “Every time I think I’ve got ahold of your true personality, you just keep showing me up. Come here— you’ve got some left on you.”

He kisses her.

She wasn’t sure that he’d be into kissing her after he’s come in her mouth— she’s certain that she hasn’t swallowed all of it— but all he does is groan. The hand at the back of her neck is gentle— but firm— keeping her there as he licks languidly into her mouth. She fists his shirt— her other hand against his necklaces and fisting them, too— sighing when he lets her go and nips at her jaw.

“Sit on my bed, I want to take a better look at your clothes and what’s underneath.”

“But you already know what’s underneath,” But she does anyway. She bounces a bit on his mattress once she settles down, smoothing out a little wrinkle on the well-loved blanket underneath her thighs. She feels a tiny bit bashful when he slips his fingers under the hem of her kitty section tee— and tries her best not to giggle or laugh when he tickles her sides.

“You only gave me a peak,” It’s the closest thing to a frown she’ll ever see on his face, but her world is suddenly turned upside down in the literal sense when he flattens his palm right at her diaphragm and eases her onto her back. She does her best not to kick a leg when he kisses her thigh— nips at the inside of her knee— and she helps him pull up her shirt to reveal her bra that matches with her panties. She’s soaking wet from her previous orgasm, it’s true— but the way he looks at her almost makes her come on the spot again. “Oh, so you were planning this, weren’t you?”

Okay.

So it’s not the most expensive outfit out there.

She didn’t go out of her way to buy the most alluring outfit— when she’d gone to the store, she’d fought tooth and nail against Alya’s pulling hands that tried to lead her to the more sensual of outfits. Instead, she’d spent time in the more colorful section of the store— the ones with soft pinks, dark purples, even pretty reds that are just a shade too bright to be considered sexy but just fun instead.

She’d found what she’d wanted after much internal debate with herself— a matching set stamped with pretty little blue flowers. She’s not sure what flowers they are— maybe lilacs, but she’s not sure lilacs come in a blue color— she’ll honestly put down money for them being lilies, in all honesty— but either way, they’re benign and small enough to almost look like dots on the bra unless she actively pays attention to the design.

There’s a little bow in the middle, too— and it seems like his brain is starting to short circuit the more and more he looks at it, smoothing one of his hands up her side along the ribs so he can pet at the ribbon with his black fingernails.

“Is that what you were trying to check for?” She giggles.

“Intuition,” He winks. She really tries her best not to kick out when he presses his flat teeth against her stomach. His necklaces jingle as they hit against each other— and then pool onto her hip— she squirms against the cold metal resting against her skin. Oh, oh— it’s enough to make her eyes roll to the back of her head— she lets a mewl escape from her parted lips. “I just wanted to see if I was right.”

She’s not sure she has total motor control of her lips or tongue at the moment. “What if I just wanted to match?”

“Little mouse, I’ve lived my entire life with two women on this boat. Three, if you count Rose, who’s practically made her house here other than you.” He sits back up, folding her legs over his thin hips. She can feel that sculpted adonis belt underneath her thighs— such wonderful, loving muscles that she wants to hook her legs around for the rest of her life. The brow that disappears behind his bangs makes it all the more obvious that she’s been caught in the lie. “They may be Couffaines, sure— and Rose has certainly adopted the last name for herself— but I’m sure they have some things in common with other women, right?”

She purses her lips, trying not to blush, and definitely trying not to giggle when she hears him mutter the words ‘please tell me I’m right’. “But what does—”

“Rose made me sit down and told me all about it a couple of years ago.” There’s exasperation on his face, as if he’s still overwhelmed by it after all these years. “She made it very clear that people do not match their underwear, and other things, unless they’re trying to impress.”

All she can offer is a very weak ah noise, trying not to blush down to her toes.

Caught her, he had.

One of the many reasons why she hadn’t picked to go full-blown seduction— other than the fact that, in case he’d rejected her, she wouldn’t feel ashamed to look at herself in the mirror when she went back home and detransformed. She’d pulled and pulled at her hair while trying to come up with a solution, even if Mullo kept telling her that nothing would go wrong.

Playful and cute had been her choice to wear— she’s thankful she wore it.

It makes her look soft, she’s sure— instead of trying too hard. The last thing she wants is to give the impression that she’s spent days and days thinking about something obsessively, even if that’s the actual truth. Mullo was going to go crazy if she had to watch Marinette chew through her nails again.

“You��ve never shown up at my house so late before, either— you’ve stayed for a long time during the night during movies, sure— but never showed up this late. Horny little mouse, aren’t you? Showing up in the prettiest outfit I’ve fucking seen.” It should be criminal to look at her that way while slipping his fingers under the band of her panties to tease at her skin. “Poor Mousinette— all drenched with no one to take care of you like you need it. It’s a good thing you came to me, isn’t it? I’ll treat this cunt of yours so well.”

“Vai, don’t be crass—” It’s just instinctual for her to say the phrase at this point, and it makes him smile wider at the wrong nickname. Her scolding dissolves in her mouth when he presses his cock against her thigh— tilting his head to the side just enough to make it obvious he’s challenging her to make him stop while getting distracted.

The hickies on his neck glare purple and blue, almost blending into his hair as it slips partially over his face— it’s shaggy, and long, but curling just the slightest bit now that it’s air drying— so some of the hickies practically disappear. “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

She hides her steaming cheeks behind her hands as pressure continues to build and build and build right between her legs at the thought of her putting them there. His neck is littered with them— she was the one to cause it. “Oh— sugarcubes—”

“Is the night turning out the way you expected it to?”

Her breath freezes when two dexterous fingers rub against her clit— a gasp escapes her open mouth. “Vai—”

“Come on,” He teases, “I want you to answer my questions for me.”

“Yes— yes—”

He hums low, a noise of approval that makes her body feel like it’s starting to cook. “Oh, good. What did you plan on doing when you got here?”

“Plan?”

“You always have a plan,” There’s something in his eyes when she meets them again. “And I’m sure you had one when you got here, didn’t you? What did you want to happen tonight?”

She gapes, trying her best to focus while he rolls her clit between his fingers. She takes a pause just long enough that she has to wait a bit to remember what the question even is, and she punches out her words out of her mouth before all she can do is whine and cry. “Oh— I— uhm— I came here to— to tell you the truth, Luka.”

“Did you?”

“And— and other things,” She tacks on when his teasing gaze refuses to leave hers. Is he actually going to interrogate her while doing this? Oh— the thought alone makes her feet twitch. “Maybe kiss you—”

His eyes look almost liquid from how blue they are, looking at her with a soft kind of amusement, like he knows she’s not entirely telling the whole truth. “Just kiss?”

“Uhm— I—” She bites her lip. “M-maybe more.”

“More?” He tilts his head when she doesn’t answer, too busy steaming and blushing red. Something in his gaze darkens as he licks at one of his canines. “You can tell me, little mouse, can’t you? Just like you did before you sucked my dick like you were born for it?”

She’s prey.

He’s toying with her like she’s prey.

The thought makes her suck in a breath so quickly that it hurts— trying her best not to mewl in excitement and jitters.

Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes.

“I wanted more than just to kiss. Much— much more. I wanted to continue— with you? I wanted to continue what we’d done in the closet— uhm— just like we promised.”

His face softens, like he’s realized what he’s doing— like he’s afraid to continue treating her like that. Such a boyish look on his face as she looks up at him from beneath her eyelashes— god— she doesn’t know which version of Luka she likes the most. “Good. How long did it take you to cave?”

“Cave? I don’t understand—”

His voice feels like a fever on her skin from how it buffs and soothes her with its rumbliness— he kisses the inside of her knee and it makes her shiver all over. “How long did it take for you to want to come back to me?”

Oh, this man just wants to hear everything, doesn’t he? He needs such wordy reassurances— it’s as if he doesn’t believe her unless she says it out loud— is that why he never understood just how desperate her crush was until she’d actually said it with all of her words in the closet?

“The moment we left the closet,” She confesses easily. He rewards her with a firm press of his thumb pad down, swirling in circles for a good moment— just enough to make the familiar coil of heat stir heavy— bringing her to the edge, but not enough to get her over it. She stiffens at the sensation— grits her teeth to stop herself from crying out from how delirious it feels when he slows back down. “Vai— please, I— I need—”

“‘The moment we left the closet’, huh? Thank fucking god I’m not the only one— I was about to start an Akuma myself on the Liberty if I didn’t see you again soon.” The smile that pulls at his lips is enough to remind him that he has the ability to mouth and teeth at her skin— so he drops his head back down, and nips at all of the skin available to him. She gasps at the pain that starts to blossom on her stomach— her ribs— her diaphragm. “Pull you into my room and ignore anything Hawkmoth attempted to throw at me, just to keep that perfect little ass of yours to myself.”

“Oh—” She gasps, sucking in a breath. “Oh my—”

“That’s it. Keep making those perfect little noises and you’ll get your first treat.”

She pinches her eyes shut enough to see white stars behind her eyelids.

“Take off your bra for me.”

“What?” She snaps open her eyes, sounding a little breathless.

“Please?” He smiles slowly at her. “I want you to undress yourself for me.”

She scrambles to hook her hands behind her back. The clasp is simple to take off— but she can’t do much of actually taking it off because she still has her shirt on— and her miraculous is in the way, too— god damn it— so he pulls back enough so that she has enough space to slip her arms out of her bra straps and pull her band shirt off with a shimmy and a squirm. He braces a hand next to her head when she lays back down— the snake tattoo glittering blue and gold and she’s certain it’s moving against his skin. “Uhm— w-where do you want me to—”

“Leave it there.” He’s completely distracted, definitely not meeting her eyes— and soon enough, she is, too— her hands grip his damp hair as he makes quick work of the new skin presented to him. His tongue feels hot against her chest— swirling around her nipple and she cries out— he introduces his teeth, too, and it’s enough for her to actually kick out one of her legs and her eyesight to go a little crooked.

“Luka— please— oh sugarcubes—”

“You promised me you’ll get to four,” He reminds her when he pulls his lips off of her enough to respond. Her skin pebbles at the cold trail he’s left behind— chilly as he exhales against her skin. “You’ve already done one, so you have three left— is that enough for you?”

“Yes— yes— it’s enough— more than enough— please, Luka—”

“All of the pleasure you want, little mouse— whenever you want, just breathe and let go. I know you can do it— you’re so good at listening, right?”

“But I can’t—” She squirms, sucking in another breath at his reminder. “Not— not just like this— I— I need— I need more—”

It’s never enough to just have a finger there on her clit— she knows this— because she’s the one who’s spent the last six years learning every single pause and flicker of her body. She knows that it isn’t enough— and yet— and yet— she gasps when he presses down firmly again.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Are you positive that’s true?” There’s a challenge in his voice, she recognizes it instantly— but can barely hear anything else when he moves his thumb at her clit again enough to make her entire core squeeze. He swirls and swirls and swirls— and the stars behind her eyelids are starting to warp and haze into nothing. “Such little faith in yourself. Go on, Mousey. I want you to come.”

“But—”

“Right now,” He nods, as if that was the question she was asking. “I want you to come right now.”

It’s almost a shock to her when she starts coming even before he’s finished talking.

“Oh— my—” She grips his hair harder, trying to keep herself still— trying desperately to listen to the praises that spill out of his mouth and onto her skin as he continues to suck and bite and make good work of her pallid skin and her other nipple. He uses the sides of his teeth to bite on sensitive skin, emulating his fangs when he’s suited up, and oh— it feels so good to have his teeth on her, just like she’s always imagined.

Not even fingered— but she’s so aroused by this man that she’ll do anything his man requires of her if it means he’ll continue— gasping and crying the whole way.

She keeps her voice as soft as she can, knowing that Sass and Mullo are close by and she doesn’t want to disturb them. Sass is a sweet kwami, he truly is— and she doesn’t want to upset the little snake with her noises.

But it’s hard— so difficult for her to keep her voice down when Luka seems to take that as a challenge too, nipping her hard enough for her to yelp and gasp and make noises she never knew she was capable of.

“Good job. Good job.” His voice is low and decadent when she’s done twitching and batting at his thumb to stop. He uses his clean hand to smooth her bangs back, and pet behind her ear— she’s filled with a type of ecstasy that she can’t exactly shake off. Every drag of those necklaces against her chest when he pulls on her legs for her to get closer— every single drag— makes her lashes flutter, her thighs flex, and her walls seize on empty air. “I told you that you could do it.”

She doesn’t exactly have the strength to respond, but forces herself to speak anyway, her chest heaving from her world being turned sideways. “T-two more?”

Oh, isn’t that grin of his arousing?

“Two more.”

She kisses him almost uselessly, her body feeling more liquid than ever— her tongue slow and gentle against his when he slips open his mouth. She helps him take off her panties at mach speed but also infinitely slowly— she’s not sure which direction he slings it off to, but she blinks and it’s gone from his hands— and there are fingertips ghosting against her slit, gathering as much moisture as possible, giving her some brevity on being stimulated on the clit.

A finger slips inside of her.

And it doesn’t take much for a second one to join.

There’s a bit of a squelching noise when he does it— and she steams red to the point where she can almost see it reach her toes— but she throws her head back to appreciate the view of his ceiling instead of dawdling on it too much. She feels the curve of his fingers— insistent and firm, curling to find the place that makes her sing.

Her chest heaves.

“You’re so perfect,” He groans, like he’s the one getting dragged into another building orgasm— like he’s the one experiencing an entire rewrite of everything he’s ever known about his own body. He watches her with those wide blue eyes of his, as if he can’t believe that she’s underneath him— as if he’s completely taken aback that she’s in his bed at all. “That’s it, Mousey. Fuck my fingers real good.”

This body isn’t hers— it can’t be— she isn’t this fast with going again and again. It takes her at minimum twenty minutes to get another orgasm out of herself, and she’s never gone to three before on her own, always so exhausted to keep her fingers between her legs— but Luka’s never been one to stop himself from trying over and over.

Curse of the snake miraculous, isn’t it?

She’s completely at a loss as to why it’s so easy for her to shift her hips and grind down onto his palm— something she would never do if she were in her right mind— but she can’t help it. She can’t stop herself from wanting more and more— sighing softly to the point it’s almost mute in her mouth, letting him coerce her into a third orgasm for the night.

He follows her neck with his mouth— skims her collarbones with his teeth— ribs— stomach— hips— he’s charting something with that smile of his. She’s completely liquid�� a certain kind of magma underneath her skin— one that heats to the point of hurting and overflowing when his lips find the center between her legs.

The world tilts for her when she’s licked for the first time.

Oh.

Oh, no— how could she have waited for so long for this? All the articles she’s read about this had tried to explain just how wonderful the feeling is, but, honestly— nothing ever written down would’ve ever prepared her for this.

She wants more. So so so much more.

She jerks at the sensation of his tongue against her cunt, eyes wide and mouth in a perfect circle, her hair spilling down her collarbones. She can’t make up her mind on where to put her hands— but she ends up hiding her mouth behind one of her palms, the other uselessly pawing at the blanket underneath her, hopeful that she doesn’t tear something so very much loved and old. He moves one of her knees over his shoulder, meeting her eyes for the final time before forcing her to pay attention to his tongue and fingers instead.

And she does.

“Oh—” She curls in more— feeling her hard-earned stomach muscles strain in an attempt to keep her up and not flat on the bed. It almost delirious that he manages to push her back with just his palm at her collarbones— like even with her core strength she’s nothing compared to the strength in his left arm— and it burns to know that. This man could fold her— easily keep her pinned wherever he wants her— snatch her and keep her— and the thought makes her body start to prickle.

Because Luka’s strong, isn’t he?

Even with almost ten years of constant dedication to keeping Paris safe with him, Marinette’s not as strong. She’s fit and lean, sure. Loyal to her craft, making sure that she’s always prepared for the next fight. She knows self-defense— she’s gone to classes for it, has certificates and colored belts that prove that even if her miraculous powers are stripped from her, she can still defend herself.

She can easily move out of his grasp if she wants to— even with his strength, with his size, she’s mastered the art of weaseling out of people’s grasps and using their weight against them in order to getaway.

But… but it’s good to lay back and let him push her back down onto the bed with barely any use of his actual strength. It feels wonderful to have him move her and maneuver her in the way he wants like she’s completely caged in by him. Squeezing and hypnotizing her and constricting her just to eat her whole.

“Luka— please, please— oh—”

He’s everywhere, it feels like, licking hot stripes over and over and over— boxing and caging her in like she’s nothing but a tiny animal. She’s polite enough not to squirm as much as she wants to— staying as still as possible to enjoy his tongue and his mouth and his teeth and him, but the desperation is almost too much to handle. His free hand is overloading her body with touch, his palm huge against the small of her waist, or curling up to pinch at her nipple— even soothing her with a gentle pet to the ear and combing through her hair when she cries out.

There’s something a smidge feral in the way he moves his tongue against her, like he’s just as desperate as she is— he’s not gentle with her as he closes his lips around her clit and makes her moan, he’s not gentle with her as he flattens his tongue against her and she can do nothing but exhale, and he’s definitely not gentle with her when he spears his tongue into her, joining his fingers inside of her.

He’s enjoying this as much as she is, no doubt.

But. But but but.

She’s the one that ends up crying behind her hands when he scrapes the side of his teeth against her swollen clit.

She’s the one that squeaks and breaks her promise to keep quiet when there’s a particular curl to his fingers inside of her that find that spot as he pistons his fingers down to the knuckle— that type of curl that makes her breath leave her body with a gasp that is just a touch too loud to be comfortable.

She’s the one who instinctively squeezes her thighs together— putting up a genuine good fight with the strength of his arm to close all the way to his ears. He smiles, of course, nipping the inside of her thigh as punishment when she feels the strength in her legs starts to disappear and fizzle out, letting him win— hiding her face behind her hands.

She comes on his tongue.

She comes on his tongue while crying out his name.

There are tears in her eyes as she registers the fluttering of her walls, as she registers his hums of appreciation, as her body finally lets go of the coil of heat that had been desperate to rebuild and crest like the previous two orgasms hadn’t happened. Her fingers are in his hair again, somehow, and she grips him tenderly to not hurt and pull at him— but, gooseberries— it’s so much— she’s not even sure how long it takes for her to come back to reality and blink away the stars from her eyes.

He kisses the inside of her thigh. “How are you feeling, Mousey?”

“I’m—” Her eyes don’t want to focus. She doesn’t even know what she wants to look at. The ceiling? The blanket? Him? “I’m feeling fucked-out.”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Cursing twice in one night? I must be doing something right.”

He leans over her again, massive— huge— still petting at her face with an expression she can’t exactly read, given that she can barely keep her eyes open. She melts into his hand that pets at her cheek— desperate for more contact— desperate for the way he uses his thumb to massage at a pressure point at her neck. She feels floaty— not exactly there— but grounded with the way he pets at her side and collarbones and shoulder.

“That feels wonderful,” She finds herself saying, letting out a sigh.

“Breathe, Marinette,” There’s that boyish smile of his again. “Come back to me, won’t you? You’re drifting off— I don’t mind it, but, I want you here with me for just a little longer.”

If only meditation felt this good. She takes deep, hopeful breaths, trying to wrangle her brain back from the sated paradise she feels herself casting away to.

She pulls him down by the front of his shirt just when he lowers his guard.

He flattens his hips against her thighs with a muted noise, staring down at her curiously. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She wipes his lips clean with his shirt, fighting back a flushed smile, but failing miserably.

It’s a little difficult because of his necklaces— there’s a bit of a struggle— but he just watches her silently as she pouts to herself, wiping his face clean. Parts of his jaw are slick with her from when he moved his head to bite at her thigh, and she cleans that, too. His necklaces clink together softly as she moves them around so she can wipe him dry, but she’s determined to make him look more presentable.

“You promised me four,” She whispers when she’s done, cupping his cheek.

He takes a good, long look at her, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on in her head. If only he knew that there’s nothing but him. Has been for a long, long time— just him him him. “You’re not overwhelmed?”

She tilts her head enough to the side to make it apparent she’s confused. “Do you want me to be overwhelmed?”

“No, no. You’re just looking the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you, Mousey.”

“You’re always so good at doing that to me,” She murmurs, her eyes batting slowly from how lethargic she feels. “You always make me feel so calm. And wanted.”

“I’ve always wanted you. Ever since we first met.” He moves his lips in a way that indicates he’s thinking about it. “I feel like I’m going to end up breaking you if we keep going.”

A whine rips out of her throat when he shifts, trying to pull away from her and settle down next to her instead. “No— no— stay, Luka— come on— I still want more— please stay—”

“I’m not leaving you, you cuddly little mouse,” He laughs into her neck when she pulls him down more with all the strength available to her. It’s hard for her, because she feels like she has no bones left in her body— and Luka still is so massive, and much stronger than her if he really wanted to fight off her grasp, but in the end, she’s able to keep him exactly where she wants him. His erection is stiff against her thigh as she wraps her legs and arms around him, smushing her face into his shoulder, hugging him like she’s trying to cling to him like a full-body pillow. “It’s okay. I’m just trying to not crush you. Are you always this cute?”

“I— I have no idea. I’ve never had someone to hold after coming— pillows, sure, but it’s a little depressing after thinking about nothing except you or Vai or both when doing it.” She mumbles into his shirt when he finally settles back down and she wins the proverbial wrestling match to keep him right where he is.

He makes a noise that makes it obvious he’s interested. “Vai? Both?”

“Make fun of me, I dare you— I now know that you love the mouse suit, and I will use that against you the next time there’s an Akuma.” She attempts a frown, but it comes out more of a sigh, and she just sinks with it, nuzzling into him when all he does is laugh and laugh at her weak threat. “Mmmm. I never knew I could get so handsy and grabby—”

“And cuddly.”

“And cuddly during sex,” She smiles, giggling into his collarbone. “I hope it doesn’t bother you.”

“Are you kidding? Absolutely not.” He kisses her face to prove his point. Cheeks, the closest ear, her temples— her forehead under her bangs, too— he kisses everything. “Nothing you could ever do would bother me. You’re the love of my life, Mousinette— you have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted to cuddle up into you like this. And, god— Marinette— not to even mention how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

She blushes when he cups her face with his giant hands on either cheek. “Oh— don’t say that after you’ve been between my legs, Luka— I don’t want to go shy again just as soon as I’ve started being brave.”

He pulls back just enough to look at her, but not enough to pull away and make her whine again. He looks cute with all those stars in his eyes. “Hm? What do you mean?”

“That last orgasm knocked a few self-conscious thoughts out of my head,” She giggles. “I’m feeling very brave now.”

There’s a challenge glinting in his eyes again. “Are you?”

She demonstrates by pulling up his shirt to take it off of him. He follows easily, his eyes greedy as he watches her pull by the hem. She’s quick to duck when they almost bump their foreheads together— him caging her in, matching her by only having his necklaces hanging off his chest. “Your pants, too. Take them off?”

“I like this bossy version of you,” He nips at her wrist when she curls a finger through his damp hair. He doesn’t want to get up, it seems, because he shimmies around, pulling down his sweatpants and trying to kick them off along with his underwear and socks. She attaches herself to his shoulders when he’s done wrestling himself out of the fabric, also completely naked.

She’s thankful that the porthole’s curtains are closed. But it’s too far in the back of her mind as she feels his sturdy weight on her. They’re skin-to-skin, shoulder-to-shoulder, and chest-to-chest. Wonderful and smooth and comforting— his weight feels absolutely perfect against her.

“Am I crushing you?”

“Do you have your weight on your arms?”

“I might,” He kisses her face. She feels the way his thighs clench in order to stop himself from humping her side— she can’t help the way she sighs into his ear and traces his back with her nails. “The last thing I need is to snap your ribs in because of my weight.”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Luka.” She sighs contently, watching him drop his clothes onto the floor with one of his arms. “I’m capable of not dying, thank you very much.”

“I know that— it’s just— I really did take it the wrong way, Mousey. I really didn’t think you liked me at all as Viperion.” He hums. There’s a certain kind of sweetness to his face. “I know that it isn’t true anymore.”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He repeats. “But I don’t want to give you the impression that I’m scary.”

“I am most definitely not scared of you.” She shifts enough for him to hiss and groan. Oh, this poor man— if she wrapped her hand around him, how many times would it take for her to pump him before he’s spilling once more?

“Okay, okay— hold on, hold it. I need to get a condom right now or else I’m going to jizz— if I reach over to get it, will you let me go or will you make more cute noises again?” Something about his eyes gets a little clearer when he watches her open her mouth to stop him. “Holy shit.”

“Well,” She begins, but has to pause because she ducks her head, a bit embarrassed.

“How— what in the— oh, fucking hell, Mousey.” He laughs. “How long have you been planning on fucking me?”

“You’re cursing again,” She manages to pout.

“Marinette,” He’s exasperated. “You can’t expect me to— at least let me curse one more time— you’re not pulling any punches tonight. Let me react earnestly.”

She taps her chin in thought. “Hmm.”

“Unscripted, at least.” He combs his fingers through his hair— once again, Luka looks completely stunned. It’s hard to see Luka completely out of his element— he always has an air of humility that always translates to him feeling calm and collected in front of other people.

Except right now, of course.

“Fine, fine. One more.” She lifts up a finger as she giggles. “Any more than that and I’m biting you.”

“Okay. What in the absolute fuck.” He laughs hard enough to shake his shoulders. “What other tricks do you have up your sleeves?”

“I do not have any sleeves on, so I do not have any more tricks,” She grins.

“You better not. I don’t think my heart would be able to handle it— knowing that the girl of my dreams is just one-upping me in everything. I should’ve known better than to fall in love with a girl who plays mental chess for fun— is this why you have perfect grades?”

She scrunches her nose at him. “You are so mean, Vai!”

“Little nerd,” He teases, pausing enough to smile adoringly at her. “I love hearing you call me Vai.”

“It sounds like you’re making me say it on purpose,” She grumbles, pursing her lips into a little pout.

“Okay. Answer this question: how long have you been wanting to fu— uh— I mean—” He watches her arm fall back onto her chest as she narrows her eyes at him, uncurling her hands from the flick she was going to give him to his arm if he finished cursing. “How long have you been on birth control?”

“I’ve been wanting to get on it for a long time as a precaution— but I’ve only had my implant for two years, so…” She’s feeling a little bit bolder when he just shakes his head, muttering to himself about how she’s always three steps ahead of him. She’s full of laughter and charm when he kisses her cheekbone. “You don’t need a condom, if you don’t want to.”

“You’d let me have that choice?”

She nods her head hard enough for it to hurt. “Whatever you want to do, Luka.”

He looks at her.

Really looks at her.

She has no idea what’s going on in that head of his, whatever he’s thinking or planning— all he does is continue to blink at her slowly, like he’s trying to give her a chance to chicken out. She continues staring back, looking just as confident, smoothing her palms down his biceps that have her trapped on either side of the bed.

He kisses her again.

It’s not a deep one— just a kiss that’s cheeky enough that she complains when he pulls away so quickly— and it’s enough to get his body to start working, apparently, because he slips his hands under his bed for a shoebox that stores what looks like to be a bunch of condoms, and smiles at her in a way that makes her heart stutter.

“Flip over,” He says, having made his decision.

She somehow manages to almost trip over her legs as she flips over, trying to face the other way— even though she’s not even standing— and Luka snickers when her ankles make a clicking noise when they hit each other and she groans from the pain.

She hears the wrapping of the condom slide open. “Don’t hurt yourself, Mousey, as much as I want to just stare at that ass of yours—”

She glares back at him with a warning. “Luka, you promised!”

“Ass doesn’t count as a curse word, I’m calling it now— don’t— don’t kick me. I’m not as tough-skinned as you think— I will cry. You have thighs for days, and I have seen it with my own eyes how you have kickboxed your way out of Akumas trying to grab you.” He laughs. “Besides, like I was saying: give me a second, you horny little mouse— and try not to hurt yourself while I’m busy putting this on.”

“I’m not trying to hurt myself,” She sighs, letting her hair fall over her shoulders and coat the sides of her vision like a curtain when she looks back to the headboard with a little humming noise. She wants to watch him— but she also wants to feel it like a surprise— she’s on the fence of what she wants to pick. “I think I’m a little too excited.”

“I am, too.” He kisses her shoulder.

It’s so easy for him to start slipping his way into her.

She’s never had sex before, it’s true, but it’s easy for him to slide in from how wet she is. She’s soaking— her inner thighs are sticky from how humid she is and how strands of her come bridge between her soft thighs— and she’s always had the help and use of a toy to keep her company when the yearning got too difficult to bear, so it’s not like she doesn’t know how to adjust.

“Good?”

There’s barely any need for him to pause and let her relax, because she’s perfectly fine and content— her walls stretching with barely any pain when he slowly fills her to the brim.

So she shifts her hips and pushes back into him, all the way down to the base, much to his worry. It’s a tight fit, even with how wet she is— but that makes it all the more enjoyable as her core squeezes and squeezes, stinging from how stretched she feels.

He moans.

“Oh, gooseberries— this feels good—” She makes a noise when he presses the heel of his palm onto the center of her spine, curling it for her and raising her hips up to meet with his. The angle feels weird, now— his cock pressing up against her in a certain way that she’s never done before with a toy— she feels fuller. Much, much fuller— now this has some pain to it. “Oh! Oh! What in the— how did—”

“You look hotter with your ass up and curled spine, Mousey— I mean, that’s just my preference. That’s better, too, isn’t it?” He groans, keeping one hand at the small of her waist to keep him anchored as he snaps his hips against her.

“Yes, yes— much better. Holy sugarcubes.”

It’s hard to keep her sighs of appreciation in when all he does is continuously snap his hips over and over into hers, making it feel like she’s punching out her breaths with every lineup with their hips. She feels like a whirlwind— completely flexible and totally boneless as he fills her again and again, hitting the back of her thighs with the front of his. It’s an easy position for them to fall into a simple rhythm— and the two of them being partners for so long in their lives, it’s not hard for the two of them to figure out how to get each other off and how to take it.

She’s in love with the way he moves his hips.

But…

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” She manages to gasp out when he just barely meets her ass with his hips.

“Yes I do.”

“Vai,” She groans. “Stop being scared and fuck me like you want to— I promise I won’t break. Get as aggressive as you want. Please.”

The next snap of his hips has a bit of actual strength behind it.

Their skin meets with a hard slap that is so lewd— so obviously disgustingly hot that she would’ve burst into flames at the noise— but instead all she does is sink further into the blanket underneath her. Her knees ache from this position— being forced to stay the way she is as Luka uses his weight against her, but she can’t flatten herself on the bed because she’s busy snaking a hand around her front and rubbing herself with her fingers.

She manages to cup one of her breasts, teasing and plucking at herself to the point where she finds herself curling her toes. She sounds desperate, because she is— threading her fingers with his hand that supports him as he fucks and fucks.

It’s delicious.

Oh, it’s so delicious.

“You are going to be the death of me,” He groans against her shoulder.

“That’s not part of the plan,” She breathes out, and she’s happy that it pulls out a breathless laugh from him.

The hand at her hip travels to her clit and starts to roll it between the pad of his fingers. She makes a need, filthy noise, nearly losing all of her strength at her knees right there and almost folding herself in— instead, she lets go of her breast to fist at the blanket underneath her as she’s taken to the edge for the final time tonight.

She’s so close.

She’s so, so close.

“Luka—”

“I don’t— I don’t want to come— before you do,” He answers the question she wasn’t asking. “But I’m still a lot closer than I should be.”

“You can come whenever you want—” She can’t finish her sentence because he flattens her shoulders against the bed with his chest.

“Not a chance.”

“Vai—”

“Not happening,” He laughs. The proceeding slap of skin is enough for her to start seeing stars. “I’m going to— retain some upper hand against you— you little minx.”

He slows down— and she’s close enough that it almost makes her growl at the back of her throat, feeling her inch so closely to the edge and not get anywhere close to it. Instead she groans, desperate, feeling unsatisfied even as he continues to swirl his fingertips against her. “Please, please— stop teasing me— I’m so close, Luka—”

“I want you to come like this.”

“What?” No— no— not this again— she’s not prepared to come like this— “Luka—”

“You can do it, can’t you?” He kisses her shoulder. “Come. Right now, Mousey. You can do it.”

And she just— she just— oh, gooseberries— the coil in her snaps.

Of course he goes back to his brutal pace when she’s finally coming.

She’s exhausted, him still pounding away— him still worrying her skin between his flat teeth, sucking in blacks and blues all over her shoulder without a care in the world— him still somehow swirling his pointer finger over and over and over against her clit.

She’s fried.

She’s completely and totally gone, her body flooding over and over with heat and pleasure, feeling like she’s finished an Akuma battle— her walls squeeze to the point it must be pleasurable for him, because Luka loses the tempo he’s kept in his head.

“That’s it. Good— good.” He groans against her skin when she cups his giant hand with hers, trying to pull his hand away from such sensitive flesh. “Thank fucking god.”

She has enough energy left in her to jokingly nip him on the wrist, scolding him for cursing like she’d promised she would— but squeaks when his hips stutter and he makes a noise that’ll keep her awake for the rest of her life, and he’s— oh. He’s coming.

He groans low and hard enough to make her eyelids flutter— she can feel him twitch, and pulse, and she’s a tiny little bit upset at not being able to feel him leaking between her legs, but the kisses and teeth against her neck and his weight against her back are relieving enough.

Maybe the next time she’ll be brave enough to ask him— but until then— all she does is flatten her hips down on the bed while he tosses the condom away and groans into the blanket when he comes back to wipe her clean of residue and stickiness, and latches onto him for cuddles the moment he has his guard down, not letting him resurface from his burrow of a bed for the rest of the night.

He’s so thankful that he manhandled her octopus-like cuddling body under the covers with him last night.

She’s sound asleep, curled into his shoulder, completely gone and completely useless against him in bed. He feels floaty, and wistful— fuck— three orgasms in one night isn’t something he’s done in a long time. Had he known that Marinette was going to show up the night before, he wouldn’t have wasted his time masturbating in the shower.

Had he known that she’d come over, he would’ve at least gotten his bedroom ready. There are no laundry piles in his room, thank god— but he’s not sure when the last time he’d washed his blanket. Or sheets. At least pushed the amps against the wall instead of the middle of the room like he has it— well. It’s too late now.

There’s a poem just nagging at him to be written down, so he’s slapped his hand around next to the box he uses as a nightstand for one of his journals and a spare pen, scribbling away against the lined sheets of paper as he looks at her while she sleeps.

He hides his face into his notebook when he pauses for more than a second to think about last night.

God. Jesus.

He’s a complete and total sap of a person.

An entire sap.

But nothing that he’s writing down in his notebook even remotely fits his vision of what he wants the song to look like— he’s simultaneously frustrated and full of ideas. Every word that he writes down is from the heart, but nothing he writes is anything good enough whenever he looks back down to Marinette sleeping.

The rhythm of the poem isn’t right— and it’s bothering him that he can’t get it down. He thinks about it for a couple of minutes, letting sunlight filter in through his closed curtains, listening to how quiet the Liberty is for the few moments longer before Juleka, Rose, and his mother come back.

He’s so thankful Marinette is under the blankets with him.

She’s covered up— he’s begrudgingly put a shirt on the both of them— given her underwear back even though, honestly, if she wanted to be naked with just a shirt on, he’d beg for it for the rest of his time— including all of the second chances he would have to keep doing for the rest of his life during Akumas.

This is all just in case Rose was to burst through the door, which is a strong possibility.

The plus side is that it’s one of his shirts, and it’s so large on her that the necklines nearly falls over one of her shoulders if she doesn’t adjust it every so often. He can see all of the hickeys he’s given her against her neck and shoulder every time the shirt slips— she’s an entire canvas of it. The downside is that he wishes he could keep her naked for as long as she wants to be— but knowing his household, the answer is a firm no.

Unless she’s willing to deal with his mom barging in on them both with no regard for privacy.

Unless she’s willing to deal with Rose barging in on them both with no regard for boundaries.

Juleka’s fine. But she’d have to open the door if she wanted to communicate with him, so long as it isn’t through text message— but at least it isn’t because of lack of boundaries.

Still though. He’s so thankful that there’s a lock in the bathroom. His mother is a riot. And doesn’t seem to understand that teenage boys— and now young adult men— have urges.

He has no idea where she went last night— somehow his sister had genuinely been able to convince her to disappear from the Liberty. He owes Juleka about a quarter-million favors, now, and it worries him on how she’ll cash it in— but looking back down at Marinette and how she fists his necklaces on his chest in her palm as she sleeps— he’s so sappy he feels like the smile on his face won’t ever come off.

He watches her doze a little longer, and shifts the bangs out of her eyes. Marinette is a cuddler— and latched onto him for warmth and snuggles throughout the entire night. His heart feels swollen in his chest the more and more he thinks about her desperation for heat and warmth and him— to the point where he’s apprehensive to even keep the notebook and pen in his hands in favor of going back to sleep with her.

She’s so cuddly.

And cute.

In the end, he loses against Marinette, even if she has no idea she’d been trying to convince him in the first place. He drops the notebook off onto the pouf next to him, and makes sure to tuck his shoebox of condoms back far underneath his bed before his mother bursts in on the two of them and makes him— not to mention Marinette— feel scandalized. He hides under the covers with her, shimmying back down and making sure that she doesn’t accidentally choke him with such a powerful grip on the silver cords he has around his neck— and tucks her head under his chin.

He tries not to groan when he hears his mother yell out his name and tell him and ‘ the lassie’ to wake up before she pulls the covers off of the two of them because she needs help moving stuff out of the deck.

AO3 | Chapter One Link | Chapter Two Link | You Are Here!

#vipermouse #pro lukanette #pro lukamari #lukanette endgame #viperion #multimouse #fragileizyfic #fragileizyoneshot #fragileizywrites #fragileizylukanette

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peaches-writes · 4 years

Text

not-so-secret santa

skz of christmas day 7: exchange gift with minho

member: minho wc: 1.7k genre: fluff, childhood friends to lovers au, college au, a side of established relationship au warning: explicit language, threatening (?) note: this is me channeling all of my younger self’s christmas frustrations into a short fic lmao

christmas 2006

“Minho, who did you pick?” Your Homeroom teacher at the time, Ms. Yang, asked your classmate next to keep the Secret Santa chain going. The previous exchange was from Chan to Mina but since Mina already received her gift from Bam Bam, your teacher naturally picked Minho who was sitting right next to Chan.

Next to you, said boy then handed you the red and green-wrapped rectangle in his hands. “Merry Christmas, Y/N!” He greeted you as per Mrs. Yang’s instructions when someone will give their Secret Santa present, a mischievous smile on his face. “Enjoy!”

Your excited smile immediately fell into an angry frown as the hard rectangle is then placed on your lap. “All this time...” You pouted at Minho then, carefully picking up the gift in your hands. “You even bought this with me and you didn’t even bother making an effort!”

The entire class looked at you inquisitively but, in the moment, you didn’t really care. You already knew that the empty picture frame Minho thought was a genius idea to gift for the Secret Santa as a prank was inside the wrapping you held, you’d know because your respective moms took you on the same shopping trip where he got it.

Minho was not yet your best friend at the time but you were so childishly angry at that point that you didn’t hesitate on hitting him with the picture frame. “Ugh, Lee Minho, I hate you!”

Minho’s mom ended up buying you lunch after.

christmas 2011

“Ooh, I can’t wait to see who Minho picked for the Secret Santa.” Chan excitedly rubbed his palms together next to you, earning him a glare from you at hearing his tone of voice.

“I can’t wait to laugh if it’s you.” You deadpanned, making him chuckle.

“Ya, what’s with the death glare? I wasn’t teasing you!” He then held his hands up in defense but your glare is unwavering. “Well, not directly, at least.”

You only scoffed in response, turning your attention back to this class Christmas party’s MC, Seungkwan, who’s now, as if on cue, called onto your best friend to give away his Secret Santa gift.

“Y/N!” Minho then called for you, making yours and Chan’s eyes widen from across your large class circle. He held up the red package in his hand, the one he made you wrap yourself the night before as punishment for losing in a sleepover game, then exclaimed, “Catch!”

You weren’t given much time to process his words before the package is flung at you, landing just in front of the accumulating stack of gifts right in front of you from your other friends.

The entire class gasped before falling silent, collectively having a flashback of your 2nd grade fight with Minho over the same thing. Everyone (Chan mostly), just hoped that Minho got you something better than the empty picture frame.

But by the way your ears started to fume and you immediately stood up to tackle Minho said otherwise.

“Lee Minho, have you ever had a white T-shirt shoved in your mouth?!” You threatened as you approached him with the ‘gift’ he prepared for your Secret Santa.

Luckily, Chan was strong enough by then to hold you back.

Minho ended up (reluctantly) buying you dinner to 'compensate.’

christmas 2016

“What number did you get?” Minho asked you, resting his chin on your shoulder to peer at the folded piece of paper in your hands after. “Oh, number 10! Awesome, that’s from me!”

It’s the one year you didn’t get to go Christmas shopping with him because you caught a fever and the class Secret Santa’s been experimentally switched out for the White Elephant game and you still somehow ended up with his present. You groaned and pulled yourself away from Minho, turning around to face him. “What is it this time, Minho?”

“It’s something useful this time, I promise!” He swore with a hand raised on his side, going over his chest to form a cross after.

And Minho really thought he was doing something buying a mug for you with his face printed on it.

“See?” The boy pointed out after the gifts have been distributed. You didn’t pounce on him immediately this time since the mug could easily break. Instead, you waited until his mom picked the two of you up until you punched his arm. “It even changes to another face when you pour hot water on it!”

To prove it to you, he barged into your home on Christmas Day and made you hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. The photo of him with a heart eyes filter on the mug changed into him with a Godzilla filter.

christmas 2020

“Put your seatbelt on, brat.” You instruct your boyfriend as you expertly twist the ignition on your right, bringing the SUV’s engine to life. Next to you, Minho chuckles as he puts his seatbelt on, leaning back on the red-covered seats leisurely. “I don’t want you dying before we get to the Christmas Sale.”

“It’s not like the flea market is on the other side of the country.” He scoffs playfully, laughing even more when you hit him on the shoulder as you place your hand on his headrest while backing the car out of your house’s garage.

“It will be when I throw you across the city if you show me something weird for the exchange gift.” You glare. “This is our first Christmas as a couple and you’re already on thin ice.”

“Oh, boo, I’m so scared.” He rolls his eyes. Opening the car’s glove compartment, he takes out the picture frame he got you from the 2nd grade. It’s supposed to fit the shallow dip on the dashboard but you broke its back support some time ago. “And I don’t give weird gifts for the Secret Santa. Look, you still have a photo of us on the picture frame.”

You glance over his side, sighing in exasperation. “Because my mom said I should at least use it, doesn’t mean I actually like it.”

“You’re wearing the white shirt too.” He points out next. “Basics are in these days, I was ahead of my time back in high school.”

“If you’ll get me a face towel this year—Secret Santa or not—I will actually murder you in front of all our friends this time.”

“That’s hot, babe, I’d like to see you try.”

Minho happily links his free arm with yours as you navigate your way through the tight crowd of last-minute shoppers, his other hand carrying half of your eco bags. Throughout this two-hour trip, he’s shown you countless of weird things on sale as gifts for his friends—from plastic cereal cups that he’ll give to Felix to an actual set of face towels he plans on giving Jisung—but he’s yet to show you what he’s planning to gift you.

Or maybe he already has and just showed it to you under the bluff that he’ll give it to someone else like he did in all those times before.

“Min, we’ve been walking for ten minutes,” You protest as you begrudgingly drag your feet to wherever he’s taking you. Your own arms are about to fall off with your own share of eco bags and the fact that your wallet’s currently a mess with the amount of fast transactions you needed to make is starting to bother you. “Where are we going?”

“We’re almost there, promise!” He assures you with a grin, tugging you closer to his side before you could bump into an old lady walking from the opposite direction. “We’re getting your gift now so be a little patient!”

“Or maybe you’re fucking with me again.” You grumble, making him laugh and shake his head.

“Nope, this one’s only for you.” He assures, pulling you to the right when you reach an intersection. “You’ll see why.”

You only stop walking five minutes later, when Minho drags you to a stall selling pre-order snow globes. The stall owner, a buff middle-aged man, greets Minho and hands him the biggest snow globe on sale in exchange for the money he’s set aside.

“Ah, and this is the person with you on the picture?” The man then asks him once he’s finished paying, turning to you with a polite smile. “You two are adorable! How long now?”

“W-What?!” You stare back incredulously, processing way too slow for the situation.

Clearly, it hasn’t been long since you and Minho started dating, by the way you’re immediately flustered.

“Just a little over six months!” Minho proudly beams, on the other hand, the man laughs wholeheartedly at this.

“Aah, young love.” The stall owner chuckles. Turning to you, he then gestures to the snow glob and adds, “Your boy’s very sweet!”

Only then do you glance down on the snow globe in front of Minho. It has two dolls resembling the two of you surrounded by cats patterned to Minho’s pets and little buildings resembling your most frequented places: the school you went to until high school, the universities you’re currently attending, the library where you spend most of your all-nighters, the hotel you stayed at on your first trip, and this particular flea market you always shop Christmas gifts at.

There’s also the new movie house on the side but, from what you can remember, you haven’t been there yet.

“Is this good enough for you? For a first Christmas at least?” Minho asks with a coy smile, nudging your side and effectively taking you out of your thoughts. He then holds up the snow globe to you, shaking it gently before placing it on your much freer hand. “If you check one side of the globe, there’s the movie house you wanted to visit. I was thinking we could watch a movie right after the Christmas party but, you know, just us.”

You gush at the snow globe, squinting your eyes when you have to glance up at Minho again. “And you’re sure this is mine?”

“It has your name engraved on the bottom, dumbass.” He points out for you, making your eyes widen momentarily. “And it has my name on it too. Put two and two together now.”

“We’re sharing?”

“No, babe, I’m trying to ask you out on a date!”

december 23 (bang chan)

skz of christmas (masterlist)

m.list

@skzwriternet

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themockingcrows · 3 years

Text

Faint

Chronic invisible illness sucks. Sometimes we stay quiet. Sometimes we cope by giving our favorite characters our condition to get some comfort. This fic is the latter case, wherein Rose Lalonde has Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome and Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and deals with everything that brings in order to spread a bit of awareness.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31556225

She’d thought it was normal, till she brought it up to the others. The chest pain, the exhaustion, the dizziness. The sense of running on an internal timer so precise that if she overstepped its bounds it would be time to collapse into the void itself. The darkness at the edges of her vision when she’d been upright too long, when she was stressed, when she was running, dancing.

She’d thought it was normal, that everyone just had more stamina than she did before they had the same symptoms occur.

“That’s not normal. You should maybe see a doctor!” they’d unanimously said. John had been concerned, Dave had been flippant with jokes but the worry was easy to detect, and Jade was forceful with her reasoning.

Rose had finally told her mother something was wrong, to spur a visit to the doctor. It was hard to explain at first, but when her guardian further questioned how she felt, how long she’d felt that way, it had nearly turned into a shouting match.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? What if something is really wrong, Rosie! This isn’t something to just keep quiet!”

If she’d known it was abnormal, perhaps she would have mentioned it sooner. If she’d known. If she’d had a reason, she might have even been able to keep up with ballet instead of having to quit, feigning disinterest when it still made her heart sing. Violin was hard enough to deal with, with her arms raised the entire time. But ballet was just a no go anymore.

To the doctor, then, after a few weeks of edge of seat waiting. The family physician, who they’d known for years. Who didn’t believe her. Not at first, at least.

He’d checked her weight first thing, and finding her normal range, asked about her habits. While he spoke, he checked her joints and how stretchy she was, keeping her moving while talking till she was reeling on her feet before he let her lay down. Stupid old man. Her problem felt like it was in her chest or her head, not her joints! She’d always been plenty bendy, able to pull off poses ahead of her ballet class with minimal effort, the stretches never quite feeling like enough to really pull in her body in a satisfying way.

Head swimming till she lay flat on the exam table, arms crossed over her stomach absently, Rose continued to answer questions.

She was doing okay in school. She was just more tired than usual.

Yes, this had been happening for quite some time.

No, she’d fainted before, but only once. And only because she’d been up too long dancing. She didn’t miss the curious look the doctor gave her mother, the raised brow. He checked her abdomen, he checked her glands, looking for distension or rigidity, looking for clues. Nothing. Nothing that she could see, at least. Nothing that felt any different from normal. He continued to talk, keeping her lying down for a while, and checked her blood pressure while she rested, the pulse oximeter being placed on her opposite finger.

75bpm, 120/80. Everything normal, everything fine. He left the devices in place, however, and then did something strange.

“Could you stand up for me, Rose? Nice and straight, right here by the table.”

There were no questions this time to keep her occupied. Just two sets of eyes staring at her in the small room, watching as she felt the cold sweat start up on her forehead, the shake beginning in her limbs. It was stronger when she stood still, when she couldn’t prowl around. She felt nauseated as the sweat turned to a hot flash and started to soak into the fabric of her shirt, and with it came the panic as she saw the darkness at the corners of her vision.

“Can I sit down please.”

“Not yet, try to hold out a little longer,” the doctor coaxed, inflating the blood pressure cuff once more. She focused on the discomfort on her arm instead of the pounding in her chest and head, the increased breaths. Nausea rose in her throat, bile, bitter, salt from excess saliva.

“Can I sit down. Please,” she said again, not caring that it sounded like begging.

“Nearly there, just a moment longer.”

She didn’t have a moment. She felt her knees quaking, felt the floor rushing up to meet her, but gratefully felt her mother’s hands hurrying to catch her waist and balance her till the doctor finished his data gathering.

80/50. 145bpm.

The monster had a name now. Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. There were hopes she’d just grow out of it, but there was a chance it might be long lasting. In her case it seemed to be at least partly linked to how bendy she was, how loose her skin felt, how stretchy it was, how easily she bruised. That, too, had a name. Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.

What had been a slow appointment was suddenly moving very fast. Referrals were being made, appointments with different doctors at the big hospital in town, and paperwork was being handed to her mother in a thick stack. Informative pages, recommendations for diet, for exercises, safety precautions, warnings, risks. A whole new world was opening up below her and swallowing her whole, and Rose didn’t know how to feel about it.

One thing was certain, however.

She didn’t plan on telling her friends. Or anyone, for that matter.

It would be her little secret.

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

“...Is it going to hurt?” was Rose’s only question. She felt very small, much smaller than she’d felt at the clinic with her mother. The room here was bigger and more sterile, with strange looking machinery and electronics. She’d asked the same when she had her first EKG earlier, and had been relieved that the most painful part was having the gummy electrodes pulled back off after the painless test was performed. Something about being in a hospital gown and swinging her legs on a different looking exam table just made her feel even more fragile than the long walk through the building had. At least her mom was there with her.

“No, not at all. It might be a little uncomfortable, or a little cold, but there’s no pain,” promised a technician with a smile. She smiled back a little uncertainly, unconvinced. “All we’re going to do is get some pictures of your heart. I promise, an echocardiogram doesn’t hurt. It’s just a paddle with cold jelly, you’ll hold your breath when I tell you to and stay very still, and we’ll see how things look from different angles.”

“And you’ll tell me if I’m going to die or not.”

“No,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll be telling you if you have any issues with your heart valves or not.”

“Same difference.”

“You underestimate just how much the human body can handle before needing intervention,” he chuckled. “C’mon, legs up on the table and get laid back. I’m sorry for having to keep the shirt open, I know it’s embarrassing. Mom, you can see everything, yes?”

“Yes. Rosie if you need to hold my hand, I ca-”

“I’m fine, Mother. Thank you.”

“Well. If you change your mind, I’m right here.”

“Can you see the screen?” he asked Rose. She nodded, then went very still to watch the technician lift a bottle of gel and squeeze a splurt onto the paddle's end instead. “Right. Sorry this will be chilly, just try to bear with it. And-”

“Stay very still,” Rose finished for him as he opened the front of the gown and pressed the paddle to her chest. She hadn’t been watching the screen at first, but when it lit up with a fluttering white and gray form it was hard to ignore. She knew what it was, of course, though not what the technician was looking for. Seeing your own heart pushing blood around, flaring and calming as it cycled pulses, was kind of amazing. There it was, the only thing keeping her alive, and they were checking to see if any potential defects inside of its valves from the EDS were making her sick.

The procedure was quick enough. A roll here or there, a drop down section of the table for him to do further measurements underneath of her as she lay on her side, and soon enough she was done.

“What’s the verdict, am I dying,” Rose said, voice carefully calm and face deadpan. The papers from the physician had said this was a non-deadly condition, that neither of them would kill her, but the concept of damage to a heart valve of all things being real had brought out the morbid part of her brain.

“There’s a bit of a leak,” he admitted. “But your measurements are just fine and within normal ranges. I wouldn’t be too worried about it, but if you start feeling worse or new symptoms we might recheck within the next few years.”

Rose wiped off the gel with the offered cloth and covered back up while the technician spoke with her mother, the words flowing quick and easy as she asked questions and they discussed the findings. Rose herself stared at the blank screen for a moment before setting her hand over her heart, feeling the pulse, remembering how it had looked.

She was fine then.

All the more reason not to make anyone she knew worry.

She informed her friends that it had been a vitamin issue and that she was going to be just fine before changing the subject, getting swept up in conversations about games and comics and music all over again. Same as ever.

Same as always.

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

Treatment wasn’t much. Increased water consumption, and a stupid amount of salt. Compression stockings, when that alone wasn’t enough. Rose drank gatorade till she could smell it in her dreams, ate pickles and pretzels till salty foods lost their amusement and her mother had to get creative in the kitchen and with the ordering in catalog. Everything was salt and fluids, compression stockings just tight enough they gave her the will to live back. Thankfully they came in black and she could just pretend they were normal stockings, and for anyone just looking in passing, they would be just another part of her wardrobe.

Yet none of it was enough. The weakness persisted, the fatigue, and through it all that awful, stupid racing heart. If the sound of a beating heart could drive a man mad from beneath floorboards then, surely, the persistent throbbing in her ears and the pain in her chest from her own rushing tempo would be enough to drive her mad. Going to the grocery store made her sweat through her clothes, made her vision blur even as she clung to the cart for balance. More than once, she had to go find a deserted aisle to sit down on the floor in, legs stretched out in front of her, waiting for the worst of it to pass as she debated just how much she might regret laying down flat to hurry it along.

Rose assumed this was just how life was going to be. Stockings, salt, water, constantly living on an internal timer to get things done. Annoying, but not much of a burden. She could imagine living her life like this, one way or another. Others did it every day.

Then had come SBurb.

Fire from the sky and the end of the world, rushing, hurrying, breaking the bottle. She hadn’t been wearing her stockings for the day, but was grateful for the opportunities to sit, few and far between as they were. There was plenty reason for her heart to be beating out of her chest then; plenty of scary, inexplicably stressful things were happening. She had entered the medium with grim determination, and set about the task of destroying imps with a bit of glee.

She had to be quick in dispatching them, there was no alternative. Fainting around these things was unthinkable, and she had plenty of stress to get out with her knitting needles. Rose combined aggression with ballet and her own trained limberness for maneuvers that, in a normal situation, she’d never have reason to use.

It was thrilling.

It was-

Gasping and out of breath, Rose settled on her knees and held her chest after her latest kill, needing time to recover. To rest. It was like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t open her lungs enough. Like she was drowning on dry land. She gagged, saliva thick and sticky from exertion and, somehow, early dehydration. Slowly, she flopped onto her back and threw her legs up against the wall, feeling the ache and throb as the pooled blood rushed back towards her torso and brain.

Maybe she should get her stockings before continuing, given she had no idea what to expect going forward…

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

The game up through getting to the meteor had been quite the experience. She’d been able to pace herself somewhat, exerting herself in bouts that she could control better once she’d gotten some thoroughly upgraded weaponry in hand. Now, godtiered and being able to fly, she found she was able to handle being upright longer than usual.

Well.

Mostly.

She still had an affinity for walking normally. Maybe it was because it let her track her internal timer better, a long ingrained pattern she was comfortable with. Maybe it was the fear of falling from height, knowing it wouldn’t kill her but that it would still hurt unless someone caught her. There was also the setback of getting enough fluids and salt.

Gatorade was too much to hope for, but water was doable at least. Salt as a base was also available, but drinking straight salt water would have been anything but subtle.

...Maybe it was time to be honest. Rose was fairly certain that Dave already had an idea something was up, having been around her for some time by then. He always seemed to be watching her carefully, and after a few conversations with Kanaya she’d walked in on, even Kanaya had begun to have a more cautious air in their interactions.

Would that just get worse, if she told everyone?

How would Vriska react to such a thing? Such a weakness? The Seer of Light, waylaid by darkness brought on by standing for too long, she could hear it now. Brought on by sitting upright too long, sometimes. It had progressed in ways that she was frustrated about, spending time reading and trying to figure out how to make compression stockings of the right elasticity out of her god tier outfit in her down time. A dress? Sure! Simple! A garment that would help her out without cutting off all circulation to her legs or being useless? Bit more difficult.

At least Kanaya was content to let her recline whenever she wanted. She never asked, never brought it up. Instead she welcomed the blonde head to her lap, the subtle tug on her hand that meant she was going to slide to sit on the ground against the wall for a time to watch the vast space they were traveling through.

Maybe she would just keep it quiet forever. Or, at least, till after their final battles were done. When there was time to rest, when there were doctors again, Gatorade or something similar, she could get this under control and go back to her plans of dealing with it like she had imagined on Earth. Whatever lay ahead of them could be handled.

She’d keep it quiet. It would be her little secret.

Till she’d fainted in front of everyone, at least.

Another argument had broken out between Karkat and Vriska, Terezi egging on from the side and Dave adding the occasional beatbox for effect much to everyone’s annoyance and amusement in equal measure. Rose and Kanaya were observing and commenting for the most part, following them all up the stairs, but the growing intensity of the clog meant that the foot traffic had come to a stop.

Moments ticked by, then minutes.

Rose felt the shake in her knees, the cold sweat on her brow starting up.

“Dear, are you quite alright? You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” she promised with a smile, looking ahead at the group who took up the stairwell. Surely they’d move any moment. Any time now. Any second. They couldn’t argue forever, not even Karkat and Vriska on a bad day, it would end any time. She just needed to hold on, and then she’d be back upstairs with her book on the sofa, feet up, recovering stealthily yet again.

The argument dragged on, and the pain in her chest started up. Vision blurring, Rose turned her head to glance down the stairs, half turning. Maybe she could go back downstairs and use the restroom or something instead, buy time for them to move while having an excuse on hand so nobody would be suspicious.

“I’m-” she started to say.

Her legs buckled beneath her, and she knew no more.

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

“See, if you’d just moved your ass instead of backing up into the wall like a cornered meowbeast, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s not like I pushed her! I don’t know who pushed her!”

“Nobody pushed her, she just collapsed, I was right there. We’ve been over this.”

“Well, why did she collapse then!”

“Has she been drinking or something?”

“No, not that I’m aware. She ate earlier, too.”

“Sleeping?”

“Plenty.”

Rose slowly opened her eyes and stared up quietly at the ceiling, the view from the floor at the bottom of the staircase. The argument had a new source now, the squabble more contained than before, but still lively. Kanaya was watching Terezi pull Karkat and Vriska physically apart like she wanted to jump in and do it herself, but she kept her cool hands on Rose’s arm instead, immobilized. Dave had a notebook he was using like a fan over her face, cooling her off, drying the remaining sweat on her brow. He stopped when he realized she was awake, setting it aside and pushing his shades up the bridge of his nose.

She knew that look. Worry. Suspicion. It made her stomach ache a bit with guilt.

“You good now?”

“...Yeah. I fell?”

“Swan dived face first for the concrete, more like.”

Kanaya’s head jerked her direction and she smiled broader, leaning down to hug Rose tight around the shoulders.

“I was so worried! You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No,” she admitted, surprised. “How-”

“I’m quick,” Dave shrugged, glancing to the side. Kanaya pressed a kiss to her cheek before carefully helping her to sit upright. “Hey, yo, shut the fuck up, she’s awake now. Everyone can stop the blame game, new topic after a quick five.”

“Lalonde, what was that about!” Vriska said immediately. “Did you just trip over your own feet?”

“Kanaya said she collapsed,” Terezi sighed. “Not tripped.”

Karkat glowered, but crossed his arms and was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Thanks for not painting the floor with your thinkpan, we’ve got enough problems around here witho- UGH” he grunted, Terezi’s elbow making swift contact with his side, halting his contribution to the subject.

“Are you sick or something?” Terezi asked.

Rose furrowed her brow, looking around at everyone. Looking back to Dave, looking to Kanaya, both of whom briefly exchanged knowing glances. It appeared the jig was up. Now to just let the cat out of the bag properly so it would stop suffocating.

“I fainted,” Rose said.

“No fucking shit,” came Karkat’s helpful response.

“It’s. ...I’ve done it before,” Rose said, trying to measure her words, trying to figure out how to explain quickly not only to Dave but to members of an entirely different species. “On Earth I was sick. I’m still sick.”

“So we just need to get you medicine or something, right?” Dave said.

She shook her head.

“I’m already taking my medicine best I can.”

“Man, if you know how to make meds can you whip up some pepto or somethin’, because I think I’m gonna die if I don’t get hold of some before the next time we eat makeshift Alternian shit,” Dave said. Rose shook her head again.

“Water and salt.”

“What about it?” said Kanaya, rubbing Rose’s upper back when she still looked a bit woozy. Rose accepted the invitation and leaned into her shoulder, hugging her with one arm to give herself a bit more courage.

“That’s the medicine.”

“...I don’t follow.”

Rose groaned and dropped her head against Kanaya’s neck for a moment before sighing and straightening once more.

“I’ve got a condition called POTS.”

“Like-”

“No, not like fucking weed. It’s Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome.”

“What the fuck does all that mean? Are you contagious?” Karkat asked, getting another sharp elbow from Terezi, hard enough he slapped at her arm afterwards a few times in annoyance. “Will you knock that the fuck off?!”

“Don’t you think she would’ve mentioned something if she was?”

“SHE’S A FUCKING ALIEN! How do we know if it’s not contagious to US?” he argued, taking a quick step back to avoid yet another elbow coming his direction. Vriska caught him around the neck and scrubbed her knuckles deep against his scalp till he cringed.

“Preeeeeeeetty sure she would’ve said something that important before no- YOW!”

More than a little annoyed, Terezi yanked a section of Vriska’s hair till she released the thrashing Karkat, then quickly slapped a hand Karkat’s direction to keep him at bay.

“What’s it mean,” she said simply.

“It means my body is stupid and my brain doesn’t get enough blood to it when I’m upright. It all goes to my legs and can’t get back up to my head fast enough,” she said. “My heart races very badly and I feel like I’m dying and I get very weak. I get tired. I get sick. And if I’m not careful, I faint.”

“So it wasn’t a vitamin problem,” Dave mumbled. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

Kanaya frowned a bit, lifting a hand up to stroke a section of Rose’s bangs away from her face, to stroke down the side of her cheek with her thumb. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We could have watched out for you.”

“I didn’t want to hold anyone back,” Rose shrugged. “I thought I could handle it. And I didn’t want-”

“UGH great! Now we’ve got a whole person who’s useless to cope with!” Vriska shouted, rubbing her eyes with one hand.

“That,” Rose said flatly, more than a little annoyed.

“She’s not useless, she’s sick,” Dave said.

“SAME DIFFERENCE! It’s a weakness! A BIG weakness! We’re heading towards a huge fight and we can’t count on you at all now!”

Rose set her jaw. “I can handle myself. I just have to be quick an-”

“You can’t handle yourself, you just fell down the stairs from standing still! What if you collapse during battle, huh? What then? I’m sure as shit not sweeping in to save you, and we need all the god tier powers we can get to be FUNCTIONAL during a fight!” Vriska continued, yanking her hair free from Terezi’s hand to stalk closer, staring down where Rose sat, arms crossed. “What can you do? Ranged attacks while sitting down?”

Releasing Kanaya, Rose stood up quickly, immediately regretting it when her vision swam again. She braced herself and bent her knees before locking them in a wider stance for balance. It was a weak spot. A point of pride was that she’d come this far just fine as it was, and now that the cat was out of the bag her worst fears were coming true.

“Hey, easy, don’t go down again,” Dave said from behind her.

“Shut up, I’m fine!” Rose insisted. “What do you want me say, Vriska! That I promise I won’t collapse? You don’t know what I’m capable of in a fight! You don’t know what options I have on hand! Don’t discredit me just because I have this bullshit to deal with. If I can work around it, so can you. If you can’t then which of us is weaker in the end, me or you?”

It was spoken as a challenge, pure and simple. Tension was thick in the air as they stared each other down, Rose with her hands balled into fists, Vriska with crossed arms. Everyone was waiting for something to give, for the other shoe to drop.

“...Whatever,” Vriska muttered, the first to break position. She turned around and lifted her arms behind her head to stretch as she went up the stairs. “Humans are so fragile and booooooooring! Terezi, come help with dinner, I don’t know what to aim for this time.”

A collective breath was released. Terezi smirked a bit.

“That was pretty good, Lalonde. Normally she’d have kept going, but I think you got her in a corner now.”

“TEREZI, COME ON, I’M HUNGRY!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, keep your rumble spheres tethered!” she shouted, before turning with a laugh like broken glass to run up the stairs after her friend.

Karkat, alone with the trio, watched Terezi run off before looking back towards Rose. She shuddered, then quickly sat back down on the ground and flopped onto her back with a heavy sigh.

“I’m fine!” she was quick to say. “Just. Need to be down for a second. Just a second. Holy shit.”

“What, think you were gonna get into a catfight?” Dave asked, picking up the notebook again to sway over her face a few times just in case it was useful again.

“Yes!”

“Would’ve been funny,” he admitted.

“Would’ve been hilarious if this is what finally got us at each other’s throats,” she said sarcastically.

“How do you feel now that everyone knows what has been wrong?” Kanaya asked, stretching her legs out before scooting closer to Rose’s side and laying back as well. “Relieved?”

“Yes. ...Though. What if she’s right…?”

“First time for everything,” Dave shrugged. “Here, lift your heads up,” he instructed as he dropped the notebook and instead lifted his cape, scooting it in a wad beneath their heads. He settled opposite Rose and stretched out as well, one knee bent up so he could tap his foot occasionally, arms splayed out.

Karkat waited for a moment before Dave patted the open space in the circle, then came closer and flopped down as well, hands on his stomach.

“...So you’re SURE you’re not contagious.”

“Dude, with how often she swaps spit with Kanaya I’m pretty sure you’re safe just breathin’ the same air if she’s unaffected,” Dave pointed out.

“Well, good. ...Sorry for asking earlier,” he muttered. “I just didn’t know what to think! Lalonde being sick out of nowhere is-”

“It was rather obvious, if you watched her closely. Something was wrong even if I didn’t know what,” Kanaya said. Dave nodded as well, making Rose groan and cover her face with her hands.

“How obvious was I?”

“Real obvious,” Dave snorted. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got your back now, and we’ll have your back durin’ a fight. You know that.”

“I’ll slice anything that comes for you if you go down,” Karkat said helpfully. Given how much work he’d done hoping to be a threshcutioner before,

Kanaya reached for Rose’s hand as it came away from her face and gave it a squeeze. “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Rose sighed. “Yeah. I know. You’re right.”

She had backup now. And a while to think of how to explain everything to the others when they met up with them.

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

It felt like years ago, that final battle. Maybe because it had been years by then. It was kind of hard to keep track sometimes, really. She’d held her own, had backup, and they had all come out on top. They’d made a new world, populated it, let it grow and come back to live amongst everyone. She’d been hopeful that after all that, after all the advancements, there would be progress in her own disorders. Treatment options beyond salt and water, beyond stockings.

The fact there wasn’t, that it was still a chronic illness, that there was no magical cure in a special pill to take even after all of that, felt a bit like a slap in the face. Somehow, despite everything, having that bit of hope crushed had been enough to send her into a depression deep enough that it took months for friends and family to help pull her out of it.

There was no ‘better’. There was just coping. And she had to be okay with that.

She had options at least, thankfully. She could fly to get places faster than walking, even if she was on a harsher timer than before. She could drive. Her home was comfortable and easily accommodated a wheelchair that she could use outside of the home as well, half the time pushing herself along and the other half of the time being pushed by Kanaya when she got too tired. Life was good in many ways, even if there was no miracle to be had.

She was alive, married to the love of her life. She had friends and family surrounding her. She had aspirations for a long future, and hobbies that kept her plenty busy. It was enough for her.

When Kanaya leaned down behind her to kiss the side of her neck, sharp fangs barely there on her skin, Rose pulled the brakes on her chair and reached back to stroke Kanaya’s hair fondly. Her wife sat down beside her on the dock, overlooking the vast lake, and squinted out over the shimmering surface to make out where their friends were. A boat was heading this way and that trailing a water skier behind on a tow line, while two people flew above it keeping an eye on whoever was below kicking up wake behind them.

“Are you sure you didn’t want to participate?” Kanaya asked, amused when the skier went down into the water and was pulled up by the two flying lifeguards. “They said they had an innertube as well. You could sit and be towed.”

“Mmm. I’m fine,” Rose said with a smile. “Maybe next time, I don’t much feel like getting wet today. What about you? It looks plenty safe. Roxy and John wouldn’t let anyone drown.”

“I’d rather be near you,” she shrugged. “Perhaps we can have a turn in the boat instead later. We could take a tour around the lake without getting wet.”

“I love how your mind works,” Rose chuckled. She stretched a bit, then pushed the legs of her chair straight out, propping her legs straight out in front of her with a grateful sigh, pooled blood circulating somewhat easier again.

The skier was, apparently, Karkat. At least that’s what the shouting and cursing indicated as he struggled in the air with the duo holding him up safely. He dropped back into the lake with a splash, only to be carefully fished out again and deposited on the boat. Rose snorted a laugh before giggling at just how silly the situation looked from a distance, knowing she’d hear all about the details of it later from everyone involved. Kanaya looked at her with a soft smile before leaning against the side of the chair, nudging Rose’s leg till she stroked at her head and horns as one would pet a cat.

“I’m so glad to hear that sound…”

“Laughter? I’ve laughed a lot recently, haven’t I?” Rose asked, a little confused.

“Yes. You’ve been in such a good mood lately, compared to before. Every time I hear you laugh or see you smile it’s like sunshine.”

Rose leaned forward to press a kiss between Kanaya’s horns, making her wife hum softly, blissfully.

“You know just what to say to make an already good day better.”

Somehow, Rose felt, every day was just more proof that everything was going to be okay now.

((If you would like to learn more about POTS please visit this website for information!

http://www.dysautonomiainternational.org/page.php?ID=30))

#Homestuck #Rose Lalonde #chronic illness #pots #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #EDS #my fic

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onlythegentle-survive · 4 years

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if i kept hiding - chapter two

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x F!Reader Rating: M (nothing too explicit) Warnings: More angst and yearning, miscommunication, a brief argument, kissing (so much kissing), implicit sexual references (I told you I’d make up for all the pain in the first half of this fic!) Word count: 5.0k words Notes: The second half of this fic! Thanks so much to everyone that’s liked, reblogged, or left comments. I also want to give a huge thank you to Iris @goldafterglow for giving feedback and screaming about this fic and Ezra with me while I wrote it in two and a half sittings yesterday. No one quite understands my love for this rogue space cowboy quite like Iris does.

Taglist: @goldafterglow @frannyzooey @absurdthirst @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @hopelikethesun @forever-rogue @f0rever15elf @thewaythisis @marvel-and-mischief @seasonschange-butpeopledont @lose-eels @ezrasarm @din-damn-djarin @opheliaelysia @pajamasecrets @mandohatesdroids @poenariuniverse @fioccodineveautunnale @fleetwoodmactshirts @auty-ren @profkenobi @storiesofthefandomlovers @ithinkwehitametaphor @yespolkadotkitty @cinewhore @wille-zarr @tangledlove27

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To your surprise, sleep did eventually end up finding you. It was a restless, interrupted sleep, but it was sleep nevertheless.

The events of the previous night followed you around like a stray storm cloud the next day. Ezra didn’t say anything about it. You didn’t say anything about it. But it was there, screaming to be spoken about. Whenever Ezra did open his mouth to speak, it was about something inconsequential.

This is why you needed to leave. This was exactly what you feared - that your feelings would become an elephant in the room that neither of you acknowledged. You remembered vaguely that Ezra had wanted to go into the village to get more supplies in a few days time. That was a perfect opportunity for you to slip out unnoticed.

Your heart stung at the thought of Ezra’s potential reactions. Would he be upset? Relieved? Indifferent?

As you went through the motions that day, Ezra’s voice was a constant stream beside you, your mind wandered. It had been bizarre, at the beginning. Not needing to wear a helmet or space suit on this planet. You were grateful for it. It made work significantly easier. It meant that you sweat more, but you weren’t weighed down by the bulk of the suit.

Ezra hardly seemed to notice you today. Chatty as usual, he seemed distant, hardly paying attention to you as the two of you worked in tandem. You were equal parts relieved and let down that he was giving you your space today. Sure, you could have made an effort, hell, you wanted to make an effort, but there was nothing adequate that came to mind.

Finished for the day, Ezra let you take the first shower. Looking into the mirror, you looked a mess. You had purple bags under your eyes, which were puffy and red from lack of sleep. They had a glazed look to them as well, a look that you only had when you were sick or exhausted. As you stepped into the warm spray of the shower, you hoped that a shower would wash away most of it.

* * *

She looked awful. Ezra knew that something was eating at her, but he still could not put a finger on it. His best guess was that she was starting to glean on to the fact that he loved her and she didn’t reciprocate, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

When he had come out of the bathroom last night, he was going to tell her how he felt, too tired of keeping it bottled in. But she had already been asleep. Though it was dark, he could see that her expression, usually soft and relaxed in sleep, was sad and pained. Ezra hated to see her this anguished. He hadn’t been thinking when he reached out to touch her face outside the bathroom, it had just happened. But the way she sighed and leaned into the touch for a moment told him that on some level, she returned his feelings.

Ezra gave her some space that day; she was clearly going through something, though what, he still had yet to decipher. Even in her melancholia, she was still lovely to be around. Always making sure he had enough, or that he wasn’t working himself too hard.

As Ezra showered, he thought, why not tell her how I feel at the market? We always have such fun there.

He had to come up with a contingency plan, in case she did not reciprocate his feelings. What to do if she turned him down? She would have to stay, of course. Ezra was not so cruel to kick someone out just because they did not share his feelings. The only time he had done that was in a moment of no other choice many years ago.

Assured in his plan, Ezra smiled to himself. This would work. But he would also try and see what was troubling her today. Maybe he could help.

“Little bird,” he said in between bites of soup. She glanced up from her own bowl of soup to meet his look. “I don’t mean to pry … but are you sure everythin’ is all right? You seem to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

She blinked. “I’m fine, Ezra. Just didn’t sleep well last night, that’s all.”

Ezra knew he was teetering on the edge of prying, but still he pressed on. “You’re absolutely sure, birdie? There’s nothing eating away at you? If there’s anything you need me to do…”

Her face softened, and for a minute it seemed to Ezra that she was on the brink of tears. She smiled, radiant and lovely even when it was strained. “I promise, Ezra. Everything’s fine.”

A strand of her hair fell into her face. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Ezra reached out without thinking, to tuck it behind her ear, stroking her hair with his hand as he dropped it to her cheek. Then she did something that surprised him as much as it surprised her. She took his wrist in her hand and held his hand to her face, her thumb stroking his wrist softly. All Ezra could do was stare, dumbfounded.

Did she …?

And then, as quickly as it had started, she dropped his hand and slid her chair back, a flustered expression on her face as she finished the last spoonfuls of her soup.

Just as Ezra was finished untangling his thoughts, she stood abruptly. Giving him a wan smile, she collected their dishes and meandered to the kitchen sink to get started on clean-up.

* * *

You knew that you had overstepped when Ezra had reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear. The flummoxed expression on his face as you had held his hand in place told you all that you needed to know. You didn’t give him the opportunity to talk to you about it.

Ezra spoke quietly from behind you. “So, birdie, I was thinkin’,” he started. Your heart started a gallop, waiting for him to continue. “And I reckon we should go into town tomorrow. I noticed today that we’re at the end of our stone cleaner.”

Oh. Of course. He probably just didn’t want to embarrass you.

“Oh! Um … sure, that sounds great,” you said, attempting to keep your voice light, ignoring that you would be leaving tomorrow while he was at the market.

Ezra fixed you with a look that, like usual, you couldn’t read. Was he always so difficult to read?

As Ezra’s soft snores filled the pod, you formulated a plan in your head on how you would leave tomorrow. You hated that it had to end like this, you really did. But you couldn’t go on like this anymore. You weren’t sure what to do when you reached civilization - ask for a ride with a travelling merchant perhaps? You’d take the spare speeder bike as far as the market, that much you knew. Beyond that, it was anyone’s guess. You just hoped that Ezra wouldn’t be too lonely without you.

That’s why you had stayed as long as you had, you supposed. The thought of Ezra being lonely was too much for you to bear. Thick tears brushed against your eyelashes. It was selfish, you supposed, leaving like this, like a thief in the night. No. It had gone on long enough. Him not wanting you. You could never blame him for it; you didn’t have it in you to blame him. It was no fault of his own that he didn’t share your feelings. You just didn’t want things to become uncomfortable with him. As you closed your eyes for sleep, you hoped that, one day, he could forgive you.

* * *

Ezra woke you early the next morning. The sun had barely made its way over the horizon when you heard his voice. “Little bird, it’s time to wake up.” You blinked blearily at him. Here’s hoping your acting abilities are up to snuff.

“Ezra … I’m so sorry. I can’t go,” you said, pressing a hand to your forehead for effect. “I’ve got a splitting migraine this morning.”

Ezra looked concerned. “Well, this simply will not do, birdie. We shall simply have to postpone our trip.”

You had counted on that. “No, Ezra. You go on ahead without me. We need those supplies.”

Ezra frowned. “Well, so long as you’re sure, little bird. I’ll be back before dark.” You nodded, slipping your eyes shut. “And when I get back … there’s somethin’ that I’ve been meanin’ to talk to you about.” You froze for half a second.

“O-okay. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you when you get back.” The lie felt heavy on your tongue, guilt coursing through your veins. When you opened your eyes to see him standing above you, the guilt increased tenfold. His kind warm brown eyes were filled with concern as he looked down at you. You noticed faintly that the sun was giving his hair a golden glow to it. He quickly leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead before stepping back. His stubble tickled your skin.

“Back in a tick, little bird!” Ezra said over his shoulder as he stepped out the door. The clunk of the pod door behind him indicated that you were alone.

* * *

Ezra knew that something was awry with her. She had been acting fishy for a while, now. And the migraine was just too convenient. He never wanted to doubt her word, but he had his suspicions that she wasn’t being entirely truthful with him.

He’d seen the way she had tensed earlier that morning when he said he had something he wanted to discuss with her. But he had also seen the way she had welcomed his kiss with open arms, practically sinking into the bed. She was a puzzler, that was for certain.

He had reached the halfway point signpost for the market square in the village. But he never made it to the village. He’d turned around just after passing the signpost.

To hell with waiting. Kevva himself would not wait this long.

* * *

You did one more scan of the pod, making sure you had everything. Toothbrush, spare clothing and work clothes, sleep pants, your music console. You remembered when Ezra had found it in your pack the fourth day after you had joined him. Somehow he’d rigged it so it played over the speakers while he dressed your wound. That seemed like another lifetime ago, now. Even then, he had been so tender, so caring. You knew by that point that he was a space pirate, a rogue streak as prominent as the blonde swatch in his hair. But he was never a rake with you. Not once.

Focus, you told yourself. Your suit was folded up beneath your helmet, both packed snugly in the speeder bike’s basket outside. You forced yourself not to cry as you took the photo Ezra had taken of the two of you on a dig about two months ago from the cooler. You stuffed it in a spare notepad you had. You forgot why you had that notepad; you’d never used it before. Had someone given it to you?

Shaking your head, you pushed your wildly out-of-place thoughts from your mind. It was just before midday, which gave you ample time to slip out undetected from Ezra.

Should you leave a note? Your fingers hesitated as you looked down at the notepad still in your hand. What would you even say, though? Dear Ezra, sorry to split like this, but I’m in love with you and I can’t handle it? No. You couldn’t write a note. There was too much to say but no words to properly convey in a note. You could write a whole damn novel about your love for him and how it pains you to love him when he does not feel the same.

You’d never felt this way about anyone before. Sure, you’d been in love before, but never like this. This made everything before pale in comparison. As you left your spare key to the pod on the table, you paused for a moment, thinking you heard the speeder bike in the distance.

It couldn’t be, you thought as you hoisted your pack over your shoulders. It was probably the large willow tree, the branches gently swaying in the early fall breeze. It would be a long journey to the market. Ezra had taken the good speeder, but even so, he had said it would be around dark when he got back. You had just rounded the corner to the back of the pod where the speeder bikes were kept when you heard it.

Ezra’s voice.

* * *

“Little bird?” Ezra said, “are you … going somewhere?” His voice was incredulous.

“What are you doing here? You said you would be back after dark. You weren’t supposed to -” Your voice was panicked, frantic as Ezra took you in, understanding beginning to crawl slowly across his face.

“Supposed to what, sweetheart?” he asked, taking a step towards you.

“You weren’t supposed to know that I was … Well, that I was leaving,” you said. It could have been said better, you knew that. Kevva help me, you thought as you saw Ezra’s expression change from understanding to confusion and hurt.

“Little bird, have I done something to vex you? Is this why you’ve been so off recently? If there’s somethin’ I’ve done, tell me, and I’ll do what I can to repair it.” You couldn’t bear to hear the sound of confusion in Ezra’s voice as he spoke.

“No, Ezra. Kevva, no! You didn’t do anything wrong! It’s me,” you said. Ezra’s brows raised. This is exactly what you didn’t want to have happen. You dropped your pack to the ground and walked towards the tree. You could hear Ezra right behind you, very clearly not finished with this discussion. You turned around to face him, seeing his brown eyes, usually so kind and soft, storming with confusion and a hint of anger.

“Oh, really?” he snapped. “And what, pray tell, is it that has you in a hurry? If it’s not me, as you so insist, then what is it that has you so hell-bent on leavin’? I think as your friend and partner of almost seven months, I have a right to know what’s got you runnin’ like a thief in the night. Do you dislike me that much?”

Something inside you snapped. “No, Ezra! I don’t dislike you. I don’t dislike you at all. How could I? When you -” You broke off. He gestured impatiently at you to go on. “When you are the best person I could have possibly ever met. I love you! Is that what you wanna hear, Ezra? I love you. And I know you don’t love me, back. That’s why I’m leaving. I understand, Kevva knows I do, but I can’t do this. Not to myself. Not to you. It wouldn’t be fai-”

The rest of your speech was cut off. A low growl made its way through Ezra's throat as he clutched the front of your shirt with his hands, yanking you to him, and crashed his lips to yours, swallowing your gasp of surprise with his mouth. Your hands found purchase at his hips, pulling him closer. It was not a gentle kiss. Not by a long shot. It was greedy, hungry. Filled with unspoken things. You broke the kiss for air, resting your forehead against his as he chased your lips with his, not wanting to be parted from you for even the briefest of moments.

“You,” said Ezra in between a kiss, “are like the very air I breathe, dear girl.” He kissed you again. “Do you not know that I would hang the very stars for you, little bird?” Another kiss, your strangled sound of surprise morphed into a moan as his lips roamed yours, his tongue poking at your lips, begging for entrance into your mouth. “Kevva himself.” Kiss. “Could not.” Kiss. “Fathom such beauty, such grace, such goodness. I love you, my dear girl.”

He pulled back for a moment, a familiar look on his face. The look that had haunted you for months. Suddenly everything clicked into place as he pulled his kiss-swollen lips back from your own puffy, swollen lips. The look he was always giving you. It wasn’t one of confusion. It was one of awe. Adoration. Love.

“I love you, Ezra.” You cupped his face with your hands, a laugh escaping your lips as you pressed them against his again. He was gentler this time, though no less passionate. You wrapped your arms around his body, needing him close to you. His lips broke from yours, roaming your cheek and jaw. You bent your head upwards, allowing him access to your neck. His scruff tickled in the best way as he moved his lips across your skin.

One of Ezra’s hands moved to your leg, pulling it around his hip. A look crossed his eye. “Do you -? Can we-?” you asked in between frantic kisses anywhere your lips could land.

“Yes, my dear thing. Yes. I mean to have you.”

With great ease and care, Ezra lowered the two of you to the ground, caging your body with his. Nothing else seemed to matter. The fact that you had attempted to leave not ten minutes ago was a thing of the ancient past. That you had thought, foolishly, that Ezra had not reciprocated your feelings - when that couldn’t be further from the truth - was a thing of distant memory. None of that mattered anymore, you thought absently, your lips never far away from Ezra’s skin, nor his from yours. The only thing that mattered right here, right now, was you and him. Together. There, in the white sunshine, beneath the tree, the two of you loved each other to the point of exhaustion.

* * *

“Ezra,” you whispered, hours later. You were covered by his long jacket, resting your head on his chest, his arm wrapped around you. The rest of your clothes lay haphazardly across the ground. Ezra’s eyes were shut, but you knew he was still awake. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He looked peaceful. Tranquil.

“Mmm,” he mumbled, wrapping his other arm around you, pulling you on top of him again, his hands landing at your back. He kissed you soundly. “Hi, sweet thing,” he mumbled against your lips. You pecked his lips quickly once. Twice. Just to do so. He smiled languidly against your lips.

“Hi yourself,” you replied, nestling your face in the crook of his neck, where you had left a mark earlier. “We should probably go inside. It’s getting cold.”

Ezra pressed his lips to your temple, his words sending a different chill down your spine. “Don’t worry, little bird. I’ll warm you up.”

You stifled a grin, gasping as he scooped you up in his arms. “Ezra, I can walk just fine,” you protested as he carried you to the pod.

Ezra shot you a look. “Then I didn’t do my job correctly. Come on, sweet thing. We still have lost time to make up for.”

* * *

Your eyes fluttered open slowly. You were thoroughly spent. The narrow space beside you in the cot was empty, but the sheets were still warm. Ezra hadn’t been gone long. “Ezra,” you said. Scraping and grunting was the response you got. You rolled over to your other side to see Ezra pushing his own cot towards the one you were in. “What are you doing?” you asked as he gave the cot another shove.

“I’m movin’ this over there,” Ezra replied, giving the cot another shove. “Little bird, I would share your bed anywhere, anytime. But it needs to be big enough for us both.” With one final shove, the two cots were connected. You reached a hand up lazily to stroke his cheek.

“Come back to bed, Ezra. It’s late,” you said. Sitting up, you helped him with the blankets and sheets, making it more comfortable for the two of you.

Ezra slipped beneath the sheets once again, pulling you close to him. “That’s better, birdie,” he said. You hummed in agreement. The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces. If only you had told him of your feelings sooner. At this thought, unexpected tears started to spring in your eyes.

At your sniffle, Ezra pulled your head back from his chest, holding it in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “My sweet darling. What troubles you?” he asked, brushing a tear away with his thumb.

“I just…” you start, trying to find your words. “We could have had this a lot sooner, Ezra. If only I had … If only… I’m sorry,” you said.

“Hey. None of that, now. You hear? We were both a couple of lovesick fools who couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Do you hold it against me?” Ezra asked softly. You shook your head. How could you hold it against him? Ezra pressed his lips against your forehead before continuing. “And I could never hold it against you, my darling girl. Never. Do you hear me? I love you. I have loved you since the moment I first laid eyes upon you properly.” He kissed you once, twice.

“I love you,” you whispered back to him, settling against him. Sleep began to tug you closer as Ezra stroked your back soothingly. You slept, like that.

* * *

The next morning, you woke before Ezra. Sunlight streamed in through the open blinds. In your haste the evening before, you had forgotten to close the blinds. You had shifted sometime in the night, your face buried into his chest when you woke, lying on your side. You smiled sleepily as you gazed up at him. So calm in sleep. The weight of the world lifted from his shoulders in sleep. You leaned up and pressed your lips to the scruff of his beard. “Ezra,” you whispered, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear. He moaned, stirring from sleep, his hold on you tightening slightly. You pressed another kiss to his jaw. Ezra inhaled slightly.

“Are you trying to send me to Kevva early, darling girl?” Ezra asked, his voice rough from sleep.

You smiled against his neck, easing up on your kisses to say, “no.” The smile was evident in your voice as you returned your lips to his jaw. Finally, your lips slotted against his for a long moment.

“Good morning,” Ezra said, his mouth inches away from yours. You met them softly with your own, your hand winding into his hair gently.

“Hi,” you said breathlessly. He pulled you close. “What’s going on, Ezra?” you asked, carding your fingers in his hair.

“I just want to hold you for a while, little bird. Just like this,” he whispered against your cheek. His voice was thick with emotion. You held him tighter, your face returning to the crook of his neck as he held you. The two of you sat there like that for a long while. “I love you,” he said hoarsely.

You kissed his cheek. “I love you, Ezra.” You didn’t think you would ever get tired of saying that. Before he could say anything more, your stomach grumbled loudly. It had been quite some time since you had last eaten anything. Ezra had fixed you a plate of food to share last night, but that had been many, many hours ago.

You smiled an embarrassed smile. Ezra quirked a brow at you. “Have our activites worked up your appetite, little bird?” he asked. You sighed against his face. While you were happy to stay like this with him, you knew that you needed to get up.

* * *

Wrapped in a sheet, you watched from the table as Ezra cooked the two of you a simple breakfast, wearing nothing but his sleep pants. He had refused your offer to help outright, urging you to sit while he cooked. It was nice. Domestic. Something that you could easily get used to, you thought. His fingers twined through yours as you ate your breakfast.

Suddenly you remembered something. “Our clothes,” you said. “They’re still outside.” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Too right you are, little bird. It seems that in our eagerness, we forgot,” said Ezra, an easy grin forming on his own face. You stroked his thumb with your own.

It was easy, sitting there with him like that. Now that the haze of confusion had been lifted, you felt completely at ease with both him and yourself.

The sheet you were wrapped in slipped slightly as Ezra stood to clear the dishes. “You have stains all down your back, dear thing,” he pointed out, laughter tinging his voice, remembering the events of yesterday. What had caused you to get those stains, or rather who.

“Yes, I figured as much. Someone had their way with me beneath the tree yesterday,” you said drily, a smirk crossing your face as Ezra choked slightly on his coffee at your words. You turned to face him. “I figure a shower would do us both some good,” you continued. You offered for him to go shower first while you tidied up the kitchen. You knew that if you offered to go together, it would turn into something else entirely before too long.

“Don’t take too long in there, sweet thing. I’m not finished with you yet,” Ezra said as he emerged from the bathroom in almost record speed.

* * *

Much, much later, the two of you lay entwined together in your merged beds. You rested on his chest, Ezra’s arm draped across your back. His hand stroked soothing patterns against the skin of your back, almost lulling you back to sleep.

“Little bird?” he said suddenly, his chest rumbling against your ear.

“Yes?” you said dreamily.

“Don’t go anywhere. Not without me. I don’t think my old heart could take it,” Ezra said quietly, self-consciously. He almost sounded afraid of what your answer would be. You propped yourself up on your elbow so that you could look him directly in his eyes.

“Ezra, I’m not going anywhere. Not without you. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” You pressed your lips to his to further confirm this. “I love you,” you said as you settled back down against him, letting him cage your body against his.

It had been an … interesting few days to say the least. You realized now that you should have just spoken your feelings to Ezra sooner. But you couldn’t change that, not now. Not that it mattered. You didn’t care that it had taken the two of you this long to get here. What mattered was that you were here, now, with him. Everything else was just detail.

As Ezra shifted slightly, on the precipice of sleep, you snuggled against him. You let him rest. When he woke, you would continue on your day, doing nothing in particular with him. For right now, you were happy to rest with him. If you were lucky, you would doze off as well. Ezra muttered your name in his sleep as you brushed his blonde streak out of his eyes gently. He needed a haircut soon, you thought. You pushed the tasks you knew the two of you needed to complete out of your mind. They would keep.

#ezra x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra x you #ezra (prospect) x you #ezra prospect #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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kiame-sama · 5 years

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Forever~ Yandere!Midoriya x Reader Lemon~

Hello again my lovies~! I have returned with a lemon for proper consumption~

This of course is a yandere fic, so fair warning dearies! And! Izuku has been aged up, so no worries about that my dears!

Warnings; lemons, yandere, non-con, manipulation, kidnapping, Obsessive Yandere, creepy themes

~~~~~~

The slow steady sound of dripping water drew you from your sleep, your mind hazy and your head heavy. You couldn’t see too far ahead of you through the inky darkness and your entire body ached as if you had just gone head-to-head with a pro-hero.

As you began to slowly move, you noticed several things simultaneously; one, you were laying on a plush bed. Two, you were in a loose sleep-gown that barely came to your knees with no underclothes. Three, there was an unusual weight around your ankle. Four, there was someone cuddled close to your body.

You froze, not wanting to wake whoever it was that curled up so happily next to you. You strained your eyes to see who or what was next to you on the unfamiliar bed, but you could hardly make out shapes, let alone colors. So you did the only thing you could think of; you shoved the person off of the bed. There was a short yelp and a heavy thud from your right, as you heard the intruder slowly get up from the ground.

“(Y/n), what was that for?”

A familiar whining voice met your ears and it didn’t take you long to remember the name attached to the voice.

“Izuku?”

A light next to you clicked on, making your eyes hurt from the sudden adjusting of your pupils. He sat on his knees on the floor, his bright green eyes shining warmly in the light as he nervously smiled at you. His hair was the usual mess that it had been and you could faintly make out his freckles in the yellow light of the lamp. He had clearly been asleep as he yawned shortly after, wearing a tank-top and loose sweatpants.

Your attention was drawn from Izuku by the clinking of metal, coming from further down the bed. you quickly pulled the blankets off of your legs and noticed the bright silver quirk-canceling cuff that wrapped around your ankle. Your heart-rate jumped as the chain attached to the cuff refused to give when you tugged on it.

“Izuku... what- what is this? Why am I chained?”

The greenet smiled at you, his eyebrows pulling together in what seemed to be nerves as he twiddled with his fingers, refusing to look at you.

“Well... it’s to keep you safe, of course.”

“Safe from what?”

“From the outside world. I always worry so much about you when you’re out and about. Anything could happen! There could be a villain, a stray animal could attack you, you could injure yourself... So, if you stay here, you won’t get hurt!”

You felt as if you were talking to a child, or someone who was not the most stable mentally. But you didn’t care if you were talking to an adult who is sane or not, you wanted your questions answered and you wanted to be let out of whatever room he was keeping you in.

“What the hell are you talking about? Let me out! I can take care of myself! I don’t need your protection!”

His eyes filled with a look that was almost like he had been completely crushed by your words, but then his warm smile and a light blush returned to his face.

“Oh, (y/n), you don’t have to be scared anymore! I figured out what you were trying to tell me when you were out shopping, so I’m going to make sure you stay safe!”

“What do you mean? What I was trying to tell you? What do you think I was saying?”

“Well, you don’t usually get bananas unless you are stressed, and you put them in your basket upside-down, which upside-down flags are a call for help, so you needed help with your stress! Don’t worry! I’m here for you! I have all the things you like and could need so you don’t ever have to go out again! I’ll make sure to keep you safe and protected!”

You could hardly believe what you were hearing. Did he honestly think you were asking for help because you were craving bananas?

“What the hell are you talking about? Were you watching me or something?”

“Of course! I’ve been watching over you for a while. Like your own guardian angel! But now we can be together! I love you so much! I’ve already figured out what our kids should be named and what kind of pet we can get!”

He hopped up excitedly, grabbing several stacks of journals. You knew Izuku was fond of writing down information about heroes and people he thought were interesting. But you were almost freaked out by the fact that he had been watching you too.

He set down the books on the bed and opened a few of them, everything you could see on the pages were facts about you. What you liked, what you didn’t like, what your quirk was, how strong you were. Everything. As you stared in horror at the several journals that seemed to be filled exclusively with information about you, Izuku picked up a journal and flipped to a page, holding it out for you.

“See? This is the wedding dress that you will wear! We can have a pretty wedding, and I have even narrowed down where we should go for the honey-moon! But I thought it would be better to let you choose that one from the list I made! We can have your favorite kind of cake, and we can-”

His voice seemed to fade from your hearing as you stared at the open pages before you. There were detailed drawings of you with all of the information that were written on the pages. One drew your attention and made your blood run cold. It was of you in a rather... compromising... position. Your legs were lifted up and you were laying back against a pile of pillows, nothing other than thigh-high stockings covering you. The drawing was surprisingly detailed and even included small marks on your body that no one knew about.

It made you wonder just how many times he had seen you nude and how many times he had watched you when you were alone. Your blood was rushing in your ears with a deafening sound, your breathing had become faster, and your body shook with terror.

“-and if we start trying in January, we could have a kid around August!”

You couldn’t force yourself to look at him, listening to him telling you every little part of your life that he had planned out for you. He looked over at you and his smile fell, seeing your wide-eyed expression as you stared down at everything he had planned out.

“(Y/n)? Are you okay?”

You couldn’t force yourself to respond as tears began to gather in your eyes, now realizing that if you don’t get away from him, your entire life and your future had been taken from you, planned out for you. The moment Izuku saw your tears, he was quickly wiping them away and trying to pull you close in an effort to comfort you.

“Do you not like the dress? We can always change it. You don’t have to wear that one.”

You pulled away from his touch and backed up to the headboard, trying to get as much distance between the two of you as possible. As the blankets fell off of your form, you could see more clearly what you were currently wearing. A small baby-doll sleep-gown hugged your figure, lined with black lace and thigh-high black stockings. You couldn’t remember how you wound up in this place or even what had happened the previous day.

"Stay away from me!"

"But... (Y/n), why would I do that? Are you not feeling well? Do you need anything?"

"No, I want you to leave me alone!"

"It's okay, I understand if you're scared. We can take the marriage slowly! Don't worry, Sweety, I'll make sure to take care of you no matter what!"

He followed you up the bed and smiled, kissing the back of your hand. He was smiling warmly at you, seeming completely unaware of your fear towards him, trapped in his own little fantasy.

"Don't worry about the chain, either. That's just to make sure you stay safe when I'm out! It is a dangerous world out there, (Y/n), and someone could try to hurt you."

It seemed he had no honest idea that you were unhappy, afraid, and not interested in him. When he held your wrists and started kissing your neck was when you panicked. You tried with all of your might to kick, punch, scratch, anything to get away from him, but nothing worked. All you managed to do was exhaust yourself and likely bruise your legs and arms with your struggling.

"Don't be upset, please, Sweety? I know you want to wait and take the wedding slow, but I can't stand it anymore... You are just so beautiful right now... I promise I'll be gentle and you'll like it too!"

You were horrified, knowing exactly what he was implying and it was clear he was not at all going to listen to you. He was lost in some realm of reality where you were a willing participant in his little game. He has clearly been stalking you for a while and has come to some sort of delusion that you have been communicating with him in some kind of code.

None of it made sense and you wanting nothing more than to get out of this fantasy world he had put you in.

"No! I don't want to!"

"Don't worry! It's okay, I promise! It's okay to be afraid, I'll show you that there's nothing to be scared of."

His lips were persistent against your neck and you couldn't fight back against the delusional man's grip as he searched over your exposed skin. Despite yourself and your discomfort, a gasp escaped your lips when he brushed over a sensitive spot. You could feel the smile against your neck as he focused on that spot, causing you to shiver and whimper.

Your soft noises spurred him on, making him rub his hardening length against your thigh, practically fucking himself into you. His moans and gasps were almost too innocent sounding for his vulgar actions, feeling a heat pool in your stomach regardless of your fear. It was as if you were fighting for control of your body, and you were losing terribly.

Your body didn't want to listen to you. No. It wanted to listen to Izuku. After all, he was the one giving it what it wanted most.

He was quick to pull off his shirt, working on having as much contact with you as he could. Your loose gown was sliding up your legs more and more as Izuku continued to rut his hips, his hands rubbing over every little inch of skin he could reach. He was blushing a deep red as his hands shakily slid the straps of your dress down your arms. You were powerless to stop him as you had no control over your traitorous body anymore.

Your perked breasts were the first things Izuku noticed as he slid the gown down your body, seeing his tongue dart out to wet his lips. His gaze was steady and locked on one place alone. You knew you couldn't fight back or break free, but lord, you were gonna try.

You twisted your body under him to keep him from being able to touch you, ignoring his continued words of how everything would be alright. He gripped your hips, pulling you close with your legs on either side of his waist, forcing you to splay out on your back. His eyes were becoming slightly glazed as he stared at you in pure lust, trailing kisses down your neck to your chest where he easily caught one of your nipples in his mouth.

You had to bite back the moan that tried to escape you, whimpering softly and gripping his hair. No matter how much you tugged and yanked on it, he continued doing what he wanted to your soft body. You barely even noticed when he ripped off his pants, too lost in the haze of pleasure that was taking over your mind.

A sharp, agonizing pain ripped through you as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you. He was so fucking thick. He filled you completely to the point you were afraid you would break. The sudden intrusion forced a sob from your lips as your body desperately attempted to adjust to his length.

Your words had done nothing to get through to Izuku, but the choked back sob that whimpered from you had his full attention. His eyes were wide and focused on you as he quickly began rubbing your hips, tears welling up quickly.

"I-I'm so sorry, Sweety! I didn't mean to! I didn't know it would hurt you! I thought you would be wet enough so it wouldn't hurt! I'm sorry!"

He rubbed your hips in quick, panicked motions, whimpering louder than you were as his tears ran down his soft cheeks. He was more upset by your pain than you expected or even than you were, despite your situation. It seemed like he truly had no idea that burying himself inside of you would hurt you as much as it did.

"Forgive me... Forgive me... Forgive me..."

He muttered and whimpered lowly in your ear as he lay his body over yours, careful not to move his hips. He continued to chant those two words like a mantra as he stay rigid above you, eyes tightly closed. While he was lost in whatever despair had taken over him, you tried to push him off. Maybe you could get him off of you long enough to free yourself from his insane clutches.

As you shoved at his chest, it caused him to move inside of you, shooting a new wave of pain into your body. The movement seemed to have a different effect on Izuku however as a desperate moan squeaked from his lips. His tears quickly dried as he panted against your neck, that small movement seeming to overwhelm whatever sorrow he had.

"(Y/n)... I'm so-sorry but I- but I can't..!"

His voice was strangled and hoarse, practically ripping from his throat. He quickly began to lightly buck his hips, ignoring when your nails dug into his shoulders as he became lost in the feeling. The pain that had consumed your mind melted away like ice in an inferno, being replaced by a burning pleasure.

Even with the new feeling of bliss, you tried your hardest to keep your noises in, not wanting to encourage Izuku in any way. He didn't seem to need any encouragement anyway, his slight bucking hips turning into a rough pounding rhythm that shook the bed beneath you.

Even with his increased pace, the pain didn't return. Your bliss only heightening as he angled his thrusts, his rock-hard length brushing up against a bundle of nerves that made you see stars. It was clear his grip was going to leave behind bruises if not break your pelvis from how tightly he held onto you.

"So good! I can't- can't stop! Feels so damn-damn good! So tight!"

He was panting like a bitch in heat as he aggressively drilled into you, gasping and mewling every time you tightened around him. You could barely form a coherent thought beyond digging your nails into his shoulders, no longer caring if he heard your sweet whimpers and moans. You felt so damn full. Like you never went too long before you were being stretched out by his heavy length.

Your legs spasmed with every thrust, resting over his hips. Any time you managed to suck a breath into your lungs, it was being forced out by his endless pounding.

"Perfect! You're so perfect! Amazing..! Amazing!"

His voice changed in pitch as your voice reached new volumes, your throat burning with every harsh scream ripping through your vocal-chords. It felt like a frustrating pressure was pumping up your stomach, and you desperately needed it to break.

"Inside..! I'm gonna- gonna cum inside!"

You couldn't be bothered to register his words, moving your hips in random spasms, your entire body winding up and tensing. As it felt like you couldn't take any more, your vision went white with a flood of pleasure, your body burning with bliss. You couldn't hear your screams over the mind-numbing wave of euphoria flowing through you.

That bliss was only extended by the feeling of something hot pulsing into you and hitting that bundle of nerves with unbelievable force. When the blinding pleasure came to a plateau and faded away, you could do little more than lay on the bed, panting and gasping for air.

When your breathing leveled and your heart-beat resumed a calm rhythm, you were instantly aware of a thick liquid running down from you heat, which Izuku was still firmly planted in. You wanted to gag from the sensation and from the full, splashing feeling deep within you.

Izuku lay with his face pressed into your breasts, arms pinned by your sides and legs still suspended around his hips. His eyes were closed and small beads of sweat dappled his brow as he breathed deeply. You were horrified when reality came crashing down around you, fully taking in the reality of the situation.

You let out a soft cry, which went unheard by Izuku who lay sleeping against your spent and exhausted body. He wasn't going to let you go. That much was clear now.

You were his,

Forever.

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secretpeachtea · 4 years

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Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 5

Title: the graduation celebration

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 5.9k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: IM BACK. this literally took me a whole month to write and i hope there aren’t too many mistakes. if there are mistakes, feel free to point them out to me! other than that, hope you enjoy!

Previous///Next

Your back was aching from standing at the register for such a long time, so you decided to take a seat on one of the two chairs set up behind the counter for times like this. There was only a little over an hour left before closing, and there weren’t any customers at the moment, so taking a quick break wouldn’t hurt. It seems like Osamu was thinking the same thing as he plopped himself next to you languidly.

Your boss rests an arm on the back of your chair. “You tired?”

“A little bit, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you reply back with a sigh. “How about you?”

Osamu takes off his cap and runs a hand through his hair before placing it back on his head. “Nah, I’m good. Just feeling a bit dazed. It’s been a pretty slow week, so I guess I’m just lacking some energy boost.”

“Yeah, I guess. We haven’t had any interesting customers come in for a while, huh.” You think back to the time when you had to babysit a certain volleyball team and when you interacted with a specific gamer during work. “Although, I can’t really tell whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

Your conversation was interrupted when you both heard the entrance slide open indicating the arrival of a customer. Or, rather, customers. A group of young men walked into the shop while also engaged in their own chatter.

“We meet up after such a long time and you decide to come here?” A man with light brown, uneven bangs shoved his hands into his coat while sporting a blank expression. “Although, I can’t really say I’m surprised, Goshiki.”

The one addressed as Goshiki scowled in slight frustration. “I don’t trust any of the other options you all pitched in! I didn’t want to eat spicy ramen from the convenience store when we haven’t met up all together like this in so long! I won rock paper scissors too so it’s my choice, Shirabu-san!”

Another man with a crimson-tinted buzzcut chipped in with a lighthearted tone, “Are you sure you didn’t want to just come here ‘cause you heard about the cute register girl?”

“N-no! That’s not true, Tendou-san!” (yes)

“You’re so easy to read, Tsutomu! Isn’t that right, Wakatoshi-kun?”

Broad shoulders on a tall figure turned towards the redhead. “I suppose it is easy to understand Goshiki as if I were reading the gardening section of the newspaper.”

The fourth person of the group had a guitar strapped to his back with an...interesting outfit that you would not normally see someone wear voluntarily. “You guys sure haven’t changed at all. I can’t really say I expected to come here either.”

The last two people to enter the shop chuckled as they listened to their peers. One had a spiky undercut and slanted eyebrows, while the other had large, defined lips and tan skin. The latter spoke up, “Well, it’s not too bad, Semi. Plus, we’re here to celebrate Shirabu’s graduation and acceptance into medical school.”

You and Osamu are now standing behind the counter but the group of seven had yet to notice you both. You do a double take when you glance at the one who just spoke. Covering your mouth with one hand, you whisper to your boss, “Okay. I see what you meant by Benkei.”

Osamu just quietly chuckles.

It didn’t take long for one specific person to direct his attention at you as he walked to the counter. “Ah, (Surname)-san. How have you been?”

At the sudden greeting, the rest of the group ceased their conversation.

You just gave the familiar face a small smile. “I’ve been doing well, Shirabu-san.”

“SHIRABU-SAN KNOWS THE PRETTY REGISTER GIRL?!”

You’re a bit taken aback by the loud exclamation by Goshiki, so you just stare at him with wide eyes. A couple people burst out laughing, mainly Tendou, Yamagata, and Semi. The poor boy’s entire body flushes red as he tries to get the guys to stop laughing. Shirabu just lets out a sigh and turns his attention back to you. It seems like the other two who weren’t part of the boisterous bunch also turned their focus to where you were.

“Sorry about that. I told you I would visit soon, but I didn’t expect to come with my former teammates,” Shirabu apologized.

“No, that’s okay. If that’s the case, then these guys must be the Shiratorizawa alumni you mentioned before.” You shook your head in understanding. You turned towards the others. “Nice to meet you guys. I’m (Surname) (Name), Shirabu’s college classmate.”

“Hellooo~ (Name)-chan!” Tendou joyfully greeted after listening in on the conversation. Goshiki was now hidden behind Ushijima’s large stature to avoid any awkward encounters. Yamagata and Semi rejoined since they were also curious as to how you knew their former setter. After some brief introductions, you had learned all of their names before going into detail of your relationship with Shirabu.

“(Surname)-san and I went to the same university and had a couple classes together since our majors were similar. We were both fairly diligent in our studies, so we often grouped up to do assignments.”

“Oh? What did you major in, (Surname)-san?” Ohira asks.

“I majored in Anatomy and Physiology. I plan on going to grad school for Sports medicine.”

You hear a small gasp behind Ushijima and a quiet, subtle statement of “She’s pretty and smart!”, but you pretend like you didn’t hear anything in hopes to spare Goshiki from any more embarrassment. Osamu seems a bit intrigued since he’s never really heard you speak about school but stays silent off to the side.

“Have you decided on where you want to go? I know you once told me you applied to a special Sports medicine program.” Shirabu asks.

You feel a wave of negative emotions at the question but try your best to control your facial expression. “I...um...was waitlisted from the program and was rejected from all the grad schools that I applied to…”

Your former classmate’s eyes widened a bit in surprise and lifted his hand to his chin in thought. “I see.”

You try to brush off any unnecessary thoughts by waving your hands in front of you. “There must have been a reason for that. My resume wasn’t all that great and they probably thought I was lacking in a lot of ways.”

“Nonsense. From the couple of times we’ve worked together, I know that you’re a very well versed and competent person.” Shirabu crosses his arms and looks straight into your eyes. “I’m sure you’ll be able to come across a good opportunity with your capabilities.”

You were quite touched by Shirabu’s firm words and he’s managed to slightly lift up the corners of your lips despite the heavy weight in your heart. He’s fairly blunt and doesn’t like to sugarcoat words, so you know his words are genuine.

“Oh? How romantic~” Tendou commented. Shirabu just glares at the tall redhead and remains silent.

A sudden low rumble echoes into the air from Semi’s stomach. “Oh, sorry guys. I’ve been composing all day, so I haven’t gotten around to eating yet.”

“We should order now,” Ushijima advises. The rest nod their heads in agreement. As the Shiratorizawa crew puts in their orders, Osamu sets up his workstation to accommodate. The entire order came out to be quite a lot since most of the guys were heavy eaters and some ordered additional side dishes.

“Will this be all in one order or is everyone paying separately?” You ask.

Shirabu opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by Tendou. “Since we’re here for a celebration, we can’t let the man of the hour pay for anything!”

“Are you suggesting that we split the cost of Shirabu’s meal or have one person pay for it?” Yamagata looked up thoughtfully.

Tendou raised a finger into the air and wiggled it in denial. “Just one person will pay for all of the food!”

“It’s fine, Tendou-san. Onigiris do not cost that mu-”

“Nuh uh~ That’s not an option!”

“Alright. Then, how would we determine who pays?” Semi looked a bit weary at the suggestion.

Tendou clapped his hands together. “We’ll play some games to determine who the ultimate loser is! The winners from each round will be exempt from the next one! There will be three games in total. Whoever loses every single game and remains as the last person will be the one to pay for all of us!”

“Seems simple enough,” Yamagata comments. The other guys nod their heads in agreement.

“This is a great idea!” Goshiki in particular seems fired up. “I will defeat you, Ushijima-san!”

“I look forward to your efforts, Goshiki.”

As if there was some kind of telepathic signal between the guys, everyone but Ushijima, Shirabu, and Goshiki look at one another. Sly smiles and pitiful expressions begin to form as they take a quick glance at where Goshiki and Ushijima were standing before turning back to each other in mutual understanding. It seems like the majority has come to the conclusion that one specific person will be walking home with a lighter wallet.

Shirabu, who’s already used to his former team’s antics, doesn’t even try to stop them. Once they start, it’s difficult to halt their chaos unless he wants to hear them complain about it for the next couple weeks. Although, he does make the effort to face you and Osamu. “I know they’re getting ahead of themselves, but is all this okay? I know you haven’t closed yet, so I wouldn’t want to disturb your business.”

Your boss just waves his hand to brush off the concern. “Nah, you’re good. It’s been a slow day and I was planning on closing a bit early anyways. Feel free to hang out and have fun as long as you clean up after yourselves. I’ll be preparing the food in the meantime.”

“Yeah, as long as I’m not mopping up someone’s vomit off the floor, I don’t have any problems with it either,” You reply.

With the final yes from the owner of Onigiri Miya, Tendou sports a wide grin and faces his peers. “I already have some game ideas, so all we need to do is set up everything like I ask!”

You’re just about to return to your previous seat behind the counter before the Shiratorizawa boys entered, but Tendou waved at you to get your attention. “(Name)-chan! Would you mind being the referee for the games?”

Bewilderment is evident on your face as you try to decipher the redhead’s intentions. You’re a bit cautious since the group is so unpredictable. “Oh, um, wouldn’t it be better if Shirabu-san watched over you guys? I think I prefer watching you all have fun from afar.”

“Aw~ That’s a shame.” Tendou pulls out a small box wrapped in a bright blue ribbon from the bag slung over his shoulders. “I was planning on sharing these gourmet chocolates with the person who volunteered to be a referee.”

“Huh?” There was a small glint in your eyes.

The lanky man gently pulled off the ribbon and opened the lid. Inside the box were 5 pieces of chocolate all laid out on top of a plastic mold. Each of the chocolates had intricate designs that hinted at the work of delicate hands and showed the amount of care that went into making them. The surfaces of each piece shined under the fluorescent lights and the delectable, mouthwatering aroma permeated the air. “I gifted some chocolates for our lovely graduating friend but had a couple chocolates leftover, so I made an extra box. It’s too bad that it’ll go to waste since no one will claim them.”

“...”

You stay frozen for a moment as you eye the exquisite sweets in front of you. “...What do you need me to do?”

Tendou lets out a small shout of happiness at your response, and you took one of the chocolates out of the box. You plopped it into your mouth and immediately tasted a burst of flavor. A soft, content sigh leaves your lips as you savor the dessert. There was a soft chuckle next to you and you assumed it was Osamu but decided that you were just going to savor the moment. After gushing over two more pieces, you decide to save the rest for later and make your way around the counter to where the rest were waiting.

Tendou briefs you on some of the games and you can’t help but sweatdrop at what he has planned. As you look to the side, you see Shirabu sitting on his own since he’s the only one exempt from participating in the competition. The other guys just seem to be waiting for Tendou to fill them in as well.

Goshiki notices your presence and starts to make his way over to you. “(Surname)-san! W-what are you doing over here?”

“Tendou-san asked me to be a referee for your games, so I’ll be watching over all of you from here,” you reply nonchalantly.

“What?!”

Tendou snickers beside you and places his hands on the younger boy’s shoulder. “Now, now! Let’s get ready for the game, Tsutomu!”

Since all you really had to do was monitor and keep track of the losers of each game, you take a seat next to Shirabu who just has a bored expression on his face and acknowledges you with a short nod. Tendou has now gathered everyone else into one big group and begins to gesture his arms wildly. “The first game is called ‘Pass the Napkin’! There will be two teams of three people, and it’ll be a competition to see which team passes more napkins in one minute.”

The guys just looked at one another with contemplative faces. This game seemed simple enough...or so they thought.

“There’s one special rule!” Tendou’s eyes glinted under the lights. “You can only pass the napkin with your mouths! No hands! No other body parts!”

Many faces grew pale at the “special” rule. Yamagata brings a hand up to his forehead regretfully. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy.”

Ignoring his former teammate’s exasperation, Tendou continues his explanation. “Each team will have two baskets: one full of napkins and one that is empty so that you can place the ones you’ve successfully passed. Team A is gonna be Wakatoshi-kun, Tsutomu, and Reon! The other two including me will be on Team B! Perfect even teams with 6 people!”

Ohira takes a brief moment to think. “Now that you mention it, Kawanishi isn't here.”

“He said he had a date, so he couldn’t make it today,” Semi answers. Although, Kawanishi’s absence seems to be in his favor at the moment.

“Let’s get started!” Tendou passes you his phone with the timer app opened as all of the teams make their way towards their respective napkin baskets. “Please count us off, (Name)-chan!”

All of the guys are staring at you as they wait for your signal, and you let out an inaudible sigh. “3...2...1...Start!”

Ohira and Tendou, who are the first people in their respective teams, begin inhaling a napkin with their mouths. The game has begun.

In Team B, Semi looks mildly uncomfortable, but Tendou spares no time and immediately passes the napkin to the former’s mouth. The redhead doesn’t even give Semi any time to comprehend anything as he goes for another napkin swiftly. As Semi turns to the last person in the group, Yamagata just shrugs his shoulders and takes the napkin quickly before blowing it away into the other basket. The three seem to realize that passing the napkins in rapid succession shortens the time of contact between each other and increase their pace with each napkin.

Team A doesn’t seem to be going as smoothly. Goshiki is the middleman and hesitantly receives each napkin from Ohira with flushed cheeks that only seem to be getting darker as time passes. There is an evident pause every time the youngest team member needs to pass the napkin to Ushijima. For some reason, Goshiki also seems to make frequent eye contact with you as he’s passing the napkin to the older pro athlete before quickly averting his eyes with an even deeper blush. As a result, Goshiki drops the napkins several times.

“S-s-sorry, Ushijima-san! I’ll get the next one!”

Both teams continue transferring napkins from one basket to another for a couple more seconds. Glancing at the timer, you see that there are about 10 seconds left. You open your mouth to start counting down the remaining seconds but a sharp, horrified gasp stops you. As you direct your attention towards the source of the noise, Goshiki’s posture is tense and he’s making a strange face at the opposing team. Shifting your gaze to his line of sight, you understand what had caused the poor boy to be in such a state of shock.

A lone napkin flutters onto the floor as silence creeps through the air. Yamagata is leaning forward in Semi’s direction while the latter has his hands anchored onto his teammate’s shoulders. Their lips are connected with nothing to separate the physical contact, but both males are too shocked to make any motion. Mortified expressions from Yamagata and Semi tell you that this predicament was not intentional.

“Oya?~”

Tendou’s sudden disturbance seems to break everyone out of the trance. The timer goes off at this moment as well and a cacophony of noises fill the room. Semi and Yamagata jump away from each other aggressively. The grey-haired male sprints to the bathroom to scrub down his mouth as Yamagata vigorously rubs a handful of napkins onto his lips. Tendou begins to cackle rather loudly while Ohira just lets out an amused chuckle. Goshiki becomes a sputtering mess, red spreading across his whole body. Ushijima blinks absentmindedly.

You watch the chaos unfold and notice Shirabu closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in disappointment. It takes a minute for everyone to get their bearings and Semi returns from the bathroom bashfully. He glances at Yamagata briefly. “That never happened?”

“That never happened,” Yamagata firmly agrees.

Tendou seems to have calmed down a bit because, before you know it, he already has both napkin baskets in his arms, one obviously more full than the other. “Team B is the winner!”

Ushijima is the only one to start clapping while everyone else just sweatdrops at the redhead. Tendou puts away the baskets and turns towards the group once again. “All of Team A will be moving onto the next game since they lost! Team B is exempt from paying!”

You watch as the lanky man saunters over to the counter and Osamu hands him a tray with three small rice balls. You make eye contact with your boss and he just gives you a smirk.

Tendou proceeds to explain the next game. “For the next round, there is one rice ball filled with delicious seasoned meat while the other two are filled with wasabi! The three participants must pick one of the rice balls to eat. Whoever chooses the tasty rice ball will be exempt from paying and the other two people will move on to the final game! (Name)-chan will pick a random name from this conveniently premade bag of names to see who will choose a rice ball first! Everyone will eat the rice balls at the same time though for fun!”

Yamagata gestures you to put your hand inside of a small black bag filled with what you assumed were the three names from the losing team written down on pieces of paper. You reach in and grab one of the papers and take it out of the bag before reading out the name. “Ohira Reon.”

Ohira makes his way over to where the tray was and picks up the rice ball in the middle without hesitation. He seemed pretty confident in his decision, but you didn’t really get the chance to question it as Tendou grabs your attention once again. “Please pick the next name!”

You turn back to Yamagata and reach out to grab another name out of the bag. Your hand stops right as your fingers graze the hem. You blink once and realize that the bag looked a bit different from before; it now seemed to be a more navy blue color. Wasn’t the bag black before?

Noticing your reluctance, Yamagata shoves the rest of your hand into the bag and gives you a suspicious yet pleading look. You inwardly sigh and proceed to pick out a name. “Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

The tall volleyball player chooses the rice ball to the far left leaving Goshiki to take the last one left without a choice. Tendou placed the tray down with a satisfied smile. “Now that everyone has a rice ball, it’s time to eat!”

Ushijima, Goshiki, and Ohira all consumed their rice balls in one bite. There were only chewing noises as everyone waited for any reactions. All of a sudden, Goshiki doubled over and threw a hand over his mouth.

You panicked. “Woah! I wasn’t joking about the vomit! You better not throw up on this floor!”

Terrified by your warning, Goshiki immediately ran towards the nearest trash can and practically stuck half of his head into it. Although he was able to control himself enough to avoid regurgitating everything in his stomach, he desperately spit out the entire rice ball with wasabi and tried his best to get rid of as much residue as he could.

You turned your attention back to the other two people who had eaten a rice ball, curious to see the other victim. Ohira wiped his hands on his pants with a content smile as he continued to savor his delicious snack. Ushijima, on the other hand, stood in his usual stoic stance.

“That was quite spicy.”

It truly is a wonder how someone could remain so composed in situations like this.

“The losers are Wakatoshi-kun and Tsutomu! Get ready for the last game to see who will pay for all of the food!” Tendou exclaims excitedly, completely ignoring the younger boy that’s now leaning over the counter in despair. “The final round is called ‘Find the Volleyball’! The two players will both be blindfolded and they will need to search for the volleyball that we will hide in this room. Whoever finds the volleyball first wins the game and the ultimate loser will be the one to pay for everything!”

Tendou takes out two sports towels and a volleyball from Ushijima’s duffel bag. He passes the towels to Ushijima and Goshiki so that they could begin blindfolding themselves. The others are just lounging around and waiting for the next game to begin. You notice that Ushijima is having some trouble keeping the towel over his eyes as he tries to tie it behind his head. Without thinking too much, you walk over to where he’s standing. “Ushijima-san, do you want some help?”

“Ah, yes. I’m having some trouble keeping this in place. Do you mind holding the towel over my eyes?”

“Yeah, sure!” For a moment, you take in his tall stature and smile sheepishly. “But, you might have to bend down a bit for me. You’re quite tall.”

Ushijima complies to your request and slightly bends his back as he places the towel over his eyes once again. You bring up your hands to his face and your fingers gently brush against his as you replace his hands with your own over the towel. The blindfold starts to fall a bit so your hold on the male’s face reflexively tightens a bit, your hands practically cupping Ushijima’s face. You start to lean forward to get a good look at the blindfold to make sure there are no gaps, not realizing how close you truly were to the volleyball player.

On the other side of the room, Goshiki’s eyes widen at the suggestive position you and Ushijima are standing in. He was just about to wear his own blindfold, but was struck by a great idea. “(Surname)-san, can you-”

“Tsutomu! You look like you need some help!” Tendou swiped the towel from Goshiki’s hands and immediately covered his eyes forcefully. “I can help you!”

Goshiki gasped in discomfort. “Ah! Tendou-san, you almost poked my eyes!”

Ushijima was finally able to successfully tie the towel around his head and you took this as your cue to pull away. He straightened his back and nodded his head in your direction. “Thank you, (Surname)-san.”

“No problem,” you reply with a grin.

Since both males were properly blindfolded, the game was ready to commence. However, instead of hiding the volleyball, Semi held onto it. You were a bit confused since you remember that the rule was to find the hidden volleyball, but at this point, you don’t even want to question these guys anymore. Tendou stood off to the side and projected his voice loud and clear, “The game starts…Now!”

Semi immediately passed the ball to Ohira and some of the guys who weren’t participating began to pass the ball amongst each other silently. Ushijima and Goshiki both reach out their arms in front of them cautiously to protect themselves from running into things. Although, their efforts were in vain as Goshiki stubs his foot on one of the chairs with a yelp and crouches to the ground in distress. Ushijima manages to knock over a bottle of soy sauce from the counter, but he doesn’t seem to realize what happened as he turns around and continues his search. Fortunately, the bottle didn’t shatter, but there is now a puddle of soy sauce coating the floor. You sigh as you grab a handful of napkins and make your way towards the mess.

Goshiki seems to have changed strategies and is now crawling along the floor with one arm in front of him. He bumps into another chair and lifts his arm higher to steady himself. Suddenly, his hand came in contact with a round object that felt firm like a volleyball. “Yes! I found it!”

At his exclamation, everyone in the room shot their gaze to where Goshiki was and paled. Ushijima raised the towel obscuring his vision to see what was going on. Even Shirabu’s jaw dropped substantially. At this moment, Yamagata was in possession of the volleyball that was definitely not anywhere near the younger boy.

In broad daylight, Goshiki’s right hand was placed on your butt. You felt every one of your nerves kicking into overdrive as soon as your body overcame the initial shock. Spinning around abruptly, you deliver somewhat of a roundhouse kick to the poor, blindfolded boy’s body and he ends up tumbling backwards dramatically. His pained groans snap you out of your exasperation and immediately kneel down to check on him. “Oh, sh-! Are you okay, Goshiki-san?”

With your help, Goshiki is able to take off his blindfold and sit upright. “W-what happened? Where’s the volleyball? Did I beat Ushijima-san?!”

“N-not exactly…” You play with strands of your hair unconsciously out of embarrassment. “Sorry about kicking you so hard.”

“But, I thought I felt the ball just now? Why does Yamagata-san have it? What else could I have been touching? And, why did you kick me? Unless…” Goshiki’s expression suddenly shifts from confusion to absolute horror as he starts to connect all the dots. He begins to shriek at the realization and he almost slams his head onto the floor in order to bow in apology. “I’M SO SORRY, (SURNAME)-SAN! IT WAS A COMPLETE ACCIDENT!”

You try to reassure Goshiki that you’re not angry at him. “I-it’s okay. I know it wasn’t on purpose!”

“Nice kick, (Surname)-san.”

“10/10.”

“Would pay to see that again.”

As voices fill the air, that’s when you realize that you were still in a room full of other people and your cheeks flush pink once again. The rest of the guys were observing the whole interaction between the two of you in amusement.

Tendou gave you an apologetic smile but still seemed satisfied with how this ‘competition’ went. He cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Alright! Congratulations to Tsutomu for winning the game!”

“Huh? I thought neither of them found the volleyball in the end,” Semi commented.

“Well, Wakatoshi-kun took off his blindfold first before anyone found the volleyball, so he automatically forfeited.” Tendou faced his best friend. “It’s for the best. You make the most money out of all of us, Wakatoshi-kun!”

Ushijima nodded his head in acceptance and proceeded to take out his wallet. “I cannot deny that.”

“WAIT A MINUTE!” Suddenly, Goshiki jumped up from his position and pointed at his peers. “WERE YOU TRYING TO MAKE USHIJIMA-SAN PAY THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

“Yup.” Four males voices all answered at once.

“THEN, WHY DID WE PLAY THE GAMES?!”

“‘Cause it’s fun.”

The four males continue to tease their youngest friend and you sigh for the umpteenth time today. Ushijima walks over to stand next to you and hands you the total payment for the food. “I believe this is enough to cover everyone.”

You spend a couple seconds counting the money before looking back up to the broad shouldered man beside you. “Yup, looks right to me. Thanks.”

Before you could make your way to the register, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. Turning your head, you see Ushijima’s hand inches away from where you felt the sensation and you’re surprised by what he says next. “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?” You blink in confusion.

“You looked very uncomfortable before.”

It doesn’t take you long to realize that he’s talking about what had conspired during the last game. “Oh, yeah. I’m okay. Thank you for asking, Ushijima-san. You don’t have to worry about it too much. I wouldn’t mind if you or your other friends came by again after today either. I had a good time overall.”

“Ah. Then, I will take your word for it.” Ushijima gives you a small smile and then turns to walk back to his group of friends. The volleyball player doesn’t seem like the type of person to show much concern for other people due to his naturally stoic and aloof demeanor, but you were pleasantly surprised by his caring nature.

“Order’s ready, guys!” Osamu places multiple bags of food onto the counter. “I don’t mean to mess with your outing, but we are about to close, so you won’t be able to stay for too long.”

“No worries. I think we’ve extended our stay here long enough.” Shirabu assured your boss after being quiet for quite some time. “We’ll probably head over to Goshiki’s apartment anyways.”

“What?!”

Everyone ignored the boy’s outburst and started to grab all their food. As the Shiratorizawa alumni started walking out of the door the night air was filled with shouts of byes and thank yous. Shirabu turned to you one last time before following his friends. “We should keep in contact, (Surname)-san. You still have my number, right? I can also let you know if I hear about any other programs for graduate schools during my internships.”

“I do! I really appreciate it. I’ll see you again sometime, Shirabu-san!” You give him a final wave and he leaves through the exit lifting up a hand behind his shoulder in acknowledgement.

Today was definitely not what you expected from what started out as a slow, normal week.

“Still tired?” Your boss questioned you once again.

You smile as you remember him asking the same question a few hours back. “Exhausted, but strangely refreshed. Is that weird?”

“Definitely a contradiction.” He laughed at your answer. “You got yourself roped into an interesting group of people today. Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth though.”

A mild blush spread across your face as you start to stutter. “I-I normally don’t, but…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Your boss gives you a thoughtful look and subtly smirks at your reaction.

Recovering from your flushed appearance, you gesture a hand towards a certain box on top of the counter. “Did you want to try one of the chocolates? You’ll understand once you get a taste of it.”

“Why not?”

After quickly washing your hands in the sink, you slide over the box Tendou had given you and open it on the counter space next to Osamu. Your fingers snatch up a star-shaped chocolate and casually bring it up to his mouth. The taller male doesn’t think much of your actions and allows you to feed him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. After everything that happened today, your mind can only briefly sense that your fingers made contact with your boss’ lips. Although, your heart does linger on the fact that Osamu’s lips are much softer than what you expected.

Once the chocolate is fully consumed, Osamu lets out a satisfied hum. “Those Shiratorizawa folks sure know what they’re doing despite the craziness that follows them. Actually, there’s something else I want to ask you. You said you went to the same university as Shirabu-san, right?”

“Yup!”

“When did you graduate?”

You look up to the ceiling as you think. “Um...Maybe around a week ago?”

There’s a slight pause as Osamu takes in what you had just told him. “What?! I had no idea! Did you celebrate with your friends too?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I never really had a lot of friends since I was working so much in college and the ones that I’m close with are all overseas already.”

Osamu nodded his head in understanding. “Well, I got nothing against spending some relaxing alone time, but did you at least treat yourself with a cake or something?”

“I’m not really used to buying things for myself. It’s fine, though. I’m pretty used to pushing aside stuff like this.” You shrug your shoulders to emphasize your carefree attitude. Although, your eyes held a hint of sadness that Osamu would’ve missed if he didn’t have his full attention on you. “Plus, I didn’t even get accepted into grad school, so there’s not much to celebrate there.”

“How come it never came up in any of our conversations?”

“Oh, uh, I didn’t think anyone else cared.”

“...” Osamu stays silent and a slight somber atmosphere permeates the air. He contemplates about something for a moment before suddenly snapping his fingers. You look at him curiously and he just gives you his signature grin without telling you what he just thought of. Instead, he places a hand on your head and begins to pat it gently. “I don’t know how much it means coming from me, but you did well. I’m sure you’ve worked hard, (Name)-san.”

You felt a slight sting in your eyes and lowered your head so that your boss couldn’t see how much of an effect he had on you. “Thanks, Osamu-san.”

A/N: make way for ushiwaka everyone. and yes, osamu loves to just sit back and watch all the chaos unfold

taglist: @dinablossom

#onigiri miya #onigiri miya tidbits #secretpeachtea #shiratorizawa #ushijima #tendou #semi #shirabu #goshiki #ohira #yamagata

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: Beneath an Aurora Sky ch. 21

Summary: The South Pole Station is equipped for research and Edge has always made sure things run smoothly for the inhabitants. His charges are meant to follow his rules and regulations, and in turn, he makes sure they survive in the arctic temperatures. It takes plenty of hard work and determination and Edge, along with his crew, can handle both.

He wasn’t counting on one of the newest researchers. He wasn’t expecting Rus.

Tags: Spicyhoney, First Time, Arctic AU, Hurt/Comfort

~~*~~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20

~~*~~

Read Chapter 21 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Before Edge and Rus even got to the entrance of the main building, he could hear Rus shivering, bones rattling even through his heavy clothes from being too long outside. Edge quickened his stride, boots crunching on the hardpacked snow as he pulled Rus along behind him into the outer vestibule, out of the cold. His teeth were chattering so loudly he couldn’t speak, but Edge didn’t wait for him to force any words past the clatter. He stripped off his own gloves, tossing them carelessly aside to start on Rus’s gear. The zipper stuck halfway down on his heavy coat, nearly frozen closed and Edge yanked it loose.

Clumsy, gloved hands tried to interfere with his own in feeble protest, Rus chattering out, “h-here, i c-c-an help.”

“Hold still,” Edge commanded, impatiently batting them aside. “Getting you warm is more important than your dignity right now.” He was already biting back foul curses that Rus might mistake as meant for him but were entirely for himself. He should have forced Rus inside earlier instead of allowing his turmoil over what was happening to override his sense. None of this would matter if they failed at basic safety protocols.

Rus’s hands fell away reluctantly. He let Edge strip off his outer gear, obediently standing on one foot and then the other so that Edge could pull off his boots. Edge stripped off the socks, ignoring Rus’s startled complaint as he thoroughly checked his toes. They were icy against his warmer hands, but they showed no sign of frostbite, the bones their normal ivory without any darkened patches or worse. He switched to his hands, pulling off Rus’s gloves to check his fingers as well. Again, his bones were chilled but there was no real damage.

Their outer clothing was carelessly strewn around them and the melting snow from their boots left spreading puddles on the rugs that would earn anyone else a stern reprimand. Edge ignored it all, yanking open the bright orange lid of one of the emergency bins that were stationed on both sides of the door. Tucked in with the first aid equipment and flares were several heavy wool blankets. Edge shook one out and wrapped it around Rus’s shoulders, enveloping him in the scratchy folds as he rubbed his arms and back briskly. Slowly, the teeth chattering eased down to the occasional shudder, Rus burrowing into the blanket until only the top of his head showed, his eye lights bright as he peered out through the gap.

“thanks, b-boss,” Rus said ruefully. He held up a hand, watching his own fingers as he waggled them stiffly. “if i wreck anything on the bod, i won’t get my deposit back.”

“Hush, fool,” Edge said. At first, he was only exasperated with his inability to keep back a smile, Rus did not need any encouragement to take reckless risks. He sobered quickly, reminded of what Rus’s brother said about him being made. Nothing more than a key for a very specific lock. With some effort, Edge schooled his expression into something sterner. “Kitchen, now,” he ordered, and Rus nodded sheepishly, letting Edge help him to his feet. As much as he would have preferred to scoop Rus up and carry him, there were the other researchers to consider. Some propriety was to be expected, encouraged, he couldn’t simply…the moment Rus stumbled, Edge abandoned the pretense and swept him up in his arms, walking swiftly towards the galley. He couldn’t regret it as Rus laid his skull against Edge’s chest with a quiet sigh, automatically tightening his hold. Abruptly, he didn’t care what anyone else thought of it. However this might play out, his time of being able to hold Rus in his arms was soon ending. He was going to take every opportunity he could.

Edge pushed his way through the dining room door and headed directly into the kitchen where Bonnie was stirring a pot at the stove with the makings for tonight’s dinner neatly laid out on the countertop next to her. There was door indicator light in one corner that flashed as they came in and Bonnie turned to look at them, her expression of mild irritation shifting to concern as she saw Rus. She began signing immediately, a fluttering swathe of concern and questions as she bustled over to where Edge was settling Rus into a nearby chair.

“No, he’s fine,” Edge replied, signing swiftly before Rus managed to form a single word with his trembling hands. “He only needs a hot drink and a chance to warm up.”

She nodded and quickly poured a cup of hot water from the kettle on the back of the stove, adding a tea bag. Bonnie kept signing as she worked, a furious flurry of scolding and worry in between slamming a heavy pot on an empty burner. Edge only let her rant, holding Rus’s hands between his own to help warm them. She took a container from the refrigerator that Edge knew contained her special broth, her own recipe for wayward scientists who needed warming.

When Rus tried to clumsily reply, he quickly found himself with a steaming mug shoved pointedly into his hands. She gestured at it sternly and he gave her a meek nod, sipping at the tea with a grimace. “guess i don’t deserve any honey today, huh.”

Edge let him take another presumably bitter sip, his pretty face twisting into a grimace, before retrieving the honey jar himself. He held it out of reach as Rus reached for it eagerly, instead spooning a healthy dollop into his cup.

Behind him, Bonnie huffed, and he glanced over to see her signing, smugly, Spoiled.

He turned to face her, his back to Rus as he signed discreetly, He deserves a little spoiling. After the confrontation earlier with Toriel and Gaster, they all did and he would have to make sure that Undyne and Red got their share later.

“please, go ahead and trash talk about me,” Rus said behind him, “i’ll just sit here and pretend i don’t notice. alone. rejected.”

He didn’t sign and a mouth without lips did not lend itself to lipreading, but Bonnie’s expression still softened as her good eye flicked to him. He looked smaller bundled up in his oversized blanket and the aura of pathos around him would have been obvious were they blind and deaf.

Bonnie made a rough, fussing sort of sound and turned back to the stove where the rich scent of broth was starting to rise. She had plenty of experience tending to foolish researchers that spent too much time outside while wrapped up in their work and knew well how to handle them. He could certainly trust Rus in her care and Edge ignored the clamoring urge in his soul to not let Rus out of his sight again. He pressed a light kiss to the top of his skull, felt Rus go still beneath the touch.

“Stay here,” Edge said softly, “and get warmed up. I’ll be right back.”

Rus was already trying to stand, his blanket sagging from his shoulders. “but—”

“No buts. Stay here,” Edge stressed. “You need to get your core temperature up, that’s an order.” He tucked the blanket back around Rus. It was true, but it was also a handy excuse. It might be best that he spoke to Alphys alone first to voice his suspicions. The last thing they needed was for him to pull another disappearing act, especially without any outdoor gear on. He brushed his fingertips against Rus’s cheekbone, relieved to note he already seemed much warmer, and said, “I won’t be gone long.”

Rus reluctantly nodded and Edge left him to Bonnie’s somewhat tender mercies and headed for the lab.

It was no surprise to find Alphys waiting for him. For once, her ever present headphones were off and there was no perky anime episode playing on a nearby screen, an anomaly in a monitor bank that was only showing the local cameras. She was sitting in her office chair, her clawed hands clasped loosely in her lap and she looked up when Edge walked in, her eyes anxious behind her glasses. She opened her mouth and Edge shook his head, mouthing, “Not here.”

He jerked his head towards the door and she nodded, following as he led the way back out. Then it was a question of where to go. His own rooms were compromised, Rus had been in them several times, and he couldn’t trust any of the common areas. He settled for a little used storage room, unlocking it to herd Alphys inside where the two of them were surrounded by towering shelves of neatly labeled boxes.

Alphys shivered, wrapping her arms around her torso. She preferred a higher temperature than most of the station was kept at and storage rooms were not well heated.

“I h-heard everything in the rec room,” she said without preamble. “Everything th-the queen and Rus’s brother said.”

“Good,” Edge said approvingly, “so we don’t need to dance around the terms of Toriel’s promise.” Adding in a little soul damage from breaking a magic binding was not the icing he wanted slathered on this particular cake. Useful as well, that at least one of them weren’t bound by its terms. “So you know that he was looking for information on the Core.”

She nodded, “I-it is possible that he found the plans in the old royal scientists notes. I m-made my own when Asgore p-promoted me, b-but the old notes were still in the Hotland lab.” She hung her head, “I d-didn’t think to t-take them with me when we l-l-left.”

“Understandable,” Edge said gently. “Why would you if they weren’t needed? But they’ve been in our world for two years and he conveniently found what he was looking for only a few weeks after Rus came here. That’s one hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

She nodded unhappily. Tears were standing out in her eyes as she struggled to ask, “Rus w-was in the lab with me a b-bunch of times. D-do you think th-that, d-do you th-think, y-you, th-that he--?”

A fine mist of spittle sprayed as she labored with words that refused to come, and while Edge would normally never interrupt her, he couldn’t bear to force her to keep trying.

“I don’t, or at least I don’t think he was aware if it was him.” Edge lowered his voice, “If we have a security leak, we need to find it. The Core information isn’t the only thing I’m concerned about.” Alphys’s experiments were meant for bettering their own home and perhaps eventually the world, but if it came to that, it was her right to the achievement and no other.

“My p-private research folders are locked down, b-but, there’s a few things on the main servers.” A determined glint shown in her watery eyes, “I’m on i-it.”

“Good. If you can find Red, get him to help.” Alphys was an excellent engineer, but Red was the real hacker on their team. If they’d somehow been infiltrated, he’d find it and if she didn’t find him, then Edge would. His brother had secrets of his own and Edge’s willingness to allow it was coming to an end.

He’d always known Red worked briefly with the royal scientist before Alphys and that there had been a falling out of some sort about it, enough that Red abandoned his PhD to work as a lowly sentry rather than return to the labs. It wasn’t until they’d come to surface that Red dusted off his original career path and even now, he tended to avoid Alphys’s lab, preferring to meet with her anywhere else.

That much Edge knew. What he didn’t know was how Red was so familiar with the portal machine Gaster mentioned or how he knew they needed Rus to use it. From his brother’s sickly reaction to the mere mention of it, it would not be a pleasant conversation. But it was a necessary one, they needed answers and he’d rather have them from Red than risk making more promises to Toriel.

Alphys set out back to the lab at a hasty waddle and Edge turned towards the kitchen, intending to check on Rus again. Before he could take a single step, the sound that carried through the hallways froze him in his tracks. A high-pitched scream, broken and garbled but the terror was undeniable. He didn’t think, running towards the kitchen and pushing roughly past anyone who came out, ignoring their confused, fearful questions of ‘what was that?’

He pushed open the dining room door with enough force to make it bang against the opposite wall, slowing at the kitchen door as he looked through the narrow window at the scene inside.

Gaster was standing in the doorway nearly blocking Edge’s view, but he could see Bonnie over his shoulder, the mad, reddened tint to her glare as she brandished a chef’s knife in his direction. Held behind her was Rus, backed into a corner and he could see the panic on his face, his mouth moving with words that Bonnie couldn’t hear.

Gaster’s hands moved, signing, and whatever he said was very much the wrong thing. Bonnie let out another unearthly cry and shook her head, her scarred ears tousling around her shoulders, and the shrill pain and fear in that shriek needing no explanation. Something was horribly wrong and there was no time to guess at what, this situation needed defused before someone ended up a pile of dust.

Cautiously, Edge pushed open the door and stepped inside, keeping both hands raised and clearly visible. The knife point flashed in his direction and Bonnie’s wild glare gave no indication that she recognized him.

“Easy,” Edge soothed. He stepped in front of Gaster, careful to keep out of range of that knife as he signed slowly and precisely. “Bonnie, it’s me, Edge. Easy, now, you know I would never hurt you or Rus, don’t you? You know me.”

Some glimmer of sanity seeped back into her unscarred eye. She blinked slowly, the tip of the knife wavering as she lowered it.

Only to jerk back up as Gaster blustered out indignantly, “As if I’d hurt my own brother! This is ridiculous!”

“Shut up,” Edge said, never changing his gentle, easy tone. “Unless you’d like to add some extra holes to the ones you already have.”

He heard the sharp click of teeth closing together behind him and tried again, his gaze never leaving the gleaming metal of the knife as he stepped closer. Rus kept perfectly still behind her, letting Edge talk her down. “Bonnie. Come on, put the knife down. You’re safe here, he’s safe. Didn’t I promise you that when we came here? That I would protect us all, that this would be a safe place for us. Haven’t I always kept my promises?”

She nodded slowly. Tears were running from her good eye, the scarred one only staring out, milky white and sightless. The knife began lowering again and Edge reached for it slowly, telegraphing every move. Only for two of Gaster’s hand constructs that were hanging in the air to swiftly move, reaching for Rus where he was still crammed into the corner behind Bonnie.

Rus cried out, too late, “no, dings, don’t!”

With a raw, ragged cry, Bonnie lashed out, slashing through one of the hands. It dissipated with a puff of purple magic even as Gaster yelped aloud, staggering back against the door as Bonnie tried to lunge past Edge.

He caught hold of her around the waist with one arm, yanking her off balance. The two of them toppled to the floor, Bonnie shrieking and ungainly, and Edge prayed silently that his evenings sparring with Undyne helped keep his skills honed enough for this. He stopped thinking then, on autopilot as years of training took control. He twisted enough to bring his knee down sharply on her wrist, forcing Bonnie to release the knife. She shrieked and tried to hold on, but he was relentless, the bones under his knee close to snapping as it finally fell from her fingers. It clattering to the tile and Edge batted it away, sending it spinning underneath one of the countertops as he caught hold of her wrists, yanking both her hands up between her shoulder blades and pinning her to the floor. Even that didn’t stop her, she heaved and fought under him, teeth gnashing and nearly throwing him off as she struggled to crawl at Gaster, who’d backed into a corner to watch foolishly with wide, fearful sockets instead of taking the chance to escape out the door.

Then Rus darted in between them, falling to his knees in front of Bonnie as he signed frantically. “stop! please!” Rus pleaded. Tears were streaming from his sockets, pale orange stains against white bone. “he’s my brother, it’s all right!”

Bonnie’s struggles slowed, but instead of being reassured, her expression dissolved into horror, staring at Rus with a gaze that was half-wounded, half-scarred emptiness. She began to fight again, this time not to get to Gaster, but a frantic struggle to get away. Edge let her go before she could hurt herself and she scrambled to her feet, casting a last terrified look at Rus and Gaster before fleeing into the pantry, the door slamming behind her.

Rus sagged down and covered his face with shaking hands, tears leaking out from beneath. Gaster came out from his corner and knelt by his brother, sliding an arm around his slim, shaking shoulders as he quietly sobbed. Edge resisted the urge to push him away and take his place.

“What in blazes was that all about?” Gaster huffed. Over his shoulder, two disembodied hands signed furiously, “I came in for a simple cup of coffee and she attacked me! Do you regularly employ psychotics?”

Rus’s head jerked up and wiping at his tear-stained face impatiently as he pulled away from his brother with a scowl. “fucking hell, dings, it’s not like that!”

“Watch your language!”

Edge nearly offered an entire barrage of language for this bastard to deal with. Before he could, a voice spoke up from the doorway.

“matter of fact, we do.” They all turned in unison to the door to see Red standing there, hands tucked into his pockets, his sunglasses on and his knit cap carefully in place. His grin was humorless and cold, sharpened teeth gleaming in the glare of the overhead lights. “want another demonstration?”

Gaster returned his furious glare with one of his own, chin stiffly lifted, “Why, I never!”

Red’s grin only widened. “glad i could pop your cherry, then.”

“That’s enough!” Edge snapped.

“yeah, it is. ‘scuse me.” Red strolled past them all where they were still on the floor, sidestepping around them as casual as a day in the park. Him treading on Gaster’s hand was definitely deliberate and Edge didn’t mind it at all. Red buttonhooked into the pantry, yanking the door shut behind him, and that left the three of them sitting together on the kitchen floor.

The sudden hiss of a pot boiling over broke the painful silence. Edge stood, nearly staggering over to the stove to turn off the burner and drop a lid on the pot. Perhaps Bonnie would be able to salvage whatever it was. Once she salvaged herself, that was.

He turned back to Rus and Gaster, their matching pale faces, and was torn. He needed to check on Red and Bonnie, but leaving Rus alone with Gaster felt wrong, brother or not.

One corner of Rus’s mouth quirked up, a resigned smile and he jerked his head towards the pantry door. “go on, i’ll stay right here.”

Gaster said nothing, only grunted as Rus jammed an elbow into his side before signing reluctantly, “I’ll go back to my assigned room. With my coffee, thank you very much.”

Good enough. Edge nodded curtly and went to the pantry door, hearing Rus sighing behind him, “bro, you have the world’s shittiest timing—"

The pantry was darker than the kitchen, only a single bare bulb lighting the room. The walls were lined with shelves of canned goods, jarred sauces and homemade jellies, industrial-sized bags of flour, pasta, and beans. In the furthest corner, Bonnie lay curled up on the floor, her sides heaving as she shuddered. Next to her, Red was sitting cross-legged, signing to her as he spoke, each gesture slow and soothing.

“it ain’t the same guy, buns.” Red told her. “i’m tellin’ ya, it ain’t.”

She shifted enough to stab an accusing finger at Red. The fur on her face was matted and wet.

“nah, i ain’t bullshitting you,” Red said, “i’m telling it straight, it ain’t him. i get it, gave me a helluva jolt too when i laid eyes on ‘im, but he ain’t old enough, not even close. that guy ain’t more’n a few years older than the fashion victim, it can’t be him.” He reached out and settled a sharp-fingered hand on her shoulder, giving her a little shake before drawing back to sign again. “he’s dead, buns, dead and dust, long gone for years now. yeah?” He waited, endlessly patient, until she slowly nodded. “he can’t hurt us anymore, get me? can’t hurt anyone at all.”

Edge watched in disbelieving silence as Bonnie unfurled from the corner and crawled over to Red, nearly collapsing against him with a sob. She buried her face into his shoulder, smearing his jacket with all the fluids that came with her agonized weeping and Red only held her. He glanced at Edge, utterly unconcerned as though this were a weekly event and not the first moment he’d ever seen Bonnie and Red set aside their endless antagonisms of each other in an embrace.

“What the hell was that all about?” Edge asked in a furious whisper.

“not now, little brother,” Red said absently. He ran a hand down Bonnie’s head, smoothing the ruffled fur on her ears down.

Not good enough, not by far, not when his chef abandoning her duties for attempted murder. “I want an explanation.”

“and you’ll get one,” Red said, testiness creeping into his voice. “we’ll get to it, but there’s more important shit goin’ on right now. for starters, go get that gap-faced fucker out of the kitchen and keep him out until it’s time for him to get back on the chopper. he can eat in his room and if he don’t like it, he can fucking starve. she don’t need to be seeing his ugly mug again.”

On that they could agree. Edge nodded curtly and spun on his heel, ready to escort their guest back to his borrowed quarters and this time, he’d ensure he stayed there.

Gaster is dead, Red told him once. A different Gaster, one from this world. Gaster is dead, long live Gaster, Edge thought sourly as he headed out to deal with this version of a person he’d never met.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #beneath an aurora sky #arctic au

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ceo-of-daichi · 4 years

Text

Characters - Sawamura Daichi x Fem!Reader

Summary - Lockdown had really affected your social life and daily routine, luckily a certain someone was willing to help you get your life back to somewhat normal. What will happen when you start catching feelings?

Genre - Fluff

Warnings - Slight mentions of anxiety

Word Count - 2.3k

A/N - Back again with another Daichi fic! Are you surprised, probably not i got a one man mind lmao. This one isn’t as long as the last but still as fluffy, hopefully you enjoy reading it :) p.s. this was almost called Toothpaste I blame Jas👀

Covid-19 had really flipped your year in a completely different direction to what you were expecting. You started the year hoping to finish your last year of high-school on a high, helping the volleyball team get to nationals and getting into university. However, the world clearly had a different plan for you, when the virus first started you didn’t think much of it. Why would you? It was only when the announcement came that the country was going into lockdown that your brain finally registered what was actually happening. Being the slightly more extroverted individual you thrived off seeing your friends, plus both your parents worked as nurses. You were going to be alone.

The first few weeks went by pretty fast, managing to keep up a routine by going out for runs and making yourself eat at certain times. Even keeping in touch with your friends from the boys volleyball team as well as Kiyoko, one of your closest friends. However, after this fairly stable period you had a really bad day. Nothing went your way, blender… broken, guess you weren't having a smoothie this morning. After that frustrating incident Tanaka and Noya decided to start poking fun at you in the group chat, which you were NOT in the mood for. Group chat… Muted. It was also raining extremely heavy so you decided maybe a well deserved rest day was in order, throwing on the TV you flopped down on the couch to start your film marathon.

5am. That was the time it was when you finally passed out on the couch. How did you end up staying up that late, Harry Potter. Why you thought it was a good idea to start watching the films you don’t know, but you managed to watch them all, all 19 hours of them. That was all it took to mess your routine up for the next month, not waking up till 2-3pm everyday just to lounge around. Barely keeping in touch with anyone, you hadn’t talked in the groupchat for close to 3 weeks, hardly even thinking about eating anything but snacks.

Luckily you had a saving grace, Daichi. After going MIA , the third year’s started to get worried about you, especially Kiyoko. She had dmed you multiple times and got nothing in return, mainly because you saw the messages but forgot to reply. You were a whole ass mess to put it plainly.

~ 3rd Years Group Chat ~

Kiyoko - I’m worried about [y/n]...

Suga - Tell me about it, she hasn’t been in the chat for weeks

Daichi - Have you tried dming her?

Kiyoko - She is ignoring me, she hasn’t replied to one of my messages

Asahi - Maybe she’s just busy?

Daichi - In the middle of lockdown…

Suga - Yeah thats unlikely

Kiyoko - Can one of you dm her as well? I just want to make sure she’s ok?

Daichi - I can... i’ll let you know if she replies and if she doesn’t Asahi or Suga can try

Having received a concerned message from Daichi, you realised how much you had lost track of everything and anything. Replying to both him and Kiyoko apologising and explaining you had just forgotten to press send. Although Daichi wanted to believe that was the case he couldn’t, instead of being upfront about it though he started messaging you throughout the day. Just small things asking if you had eaten and if you were staying hydrated, little did he know that this helped you get back into a better rhythm of lockdown life.

You slowly fixed your sleep schedule and got back to eating 3 meals a day. Although you hadn’t managed to get back into running, your talks with Daichi slowly got more frequent and for longer periods of time. The more you talked to him the more motivated you started to feel, eventually you got back into your running routine. It no longer became the odd message to make sure you were eating, but full day conversations about anything you could think of. Eventually you started relying on talking to him to cure your lockdown loneliness, a day without talking to him was not a good day for you. Daichi being the fairly observant person that he is, started to realise and eventually bought it up.

Daichi :) - Hey [y/n], I've been meaning to bring something up with you, you mind if we call?

[y/n] - Yeah sure Dai, just call me whenever i don’t exactly have anything going on

Receiving this was like a bullet to the chest, worrying what it could be about you pulled your knees up to your chest steadying your breathing. As you were lost in your head, your phone started ringing. Answering it you heard his voice for the first time in close to 3 months, it was music to your ears. Slowly over these 2 months you had grown fond of the boy, but you had quickly dismissed the idea of anything forming between each other. Both having different priorities in life, being scared of rejection also didn’t help.

After an hour and a half of deep conversation, a couple tears shed but more laughter at the end. You collapsed backwards onto your bed, he had found out everything. How your parents were barely home, always doing long shifts at the hospital, how you felt like you had no one during those 3 weeks you were MIA. Most importantly though you had confessed that talking to him was like receiving a warm hug. It's exactly what you needed at this time, obviously you would love an actual hug as well but that's pretty hard from a 2m distance.

~ 1 week later ~

Your eyes went wide as they announced on the news that lockdown was starting to be lifted, you were now allowed to meet up with people outside at a safe distance. Smiling you quickly messaged Daichi telling him how excited you were that restrictions were finally being lifted.

Daichi :) - That's Great [y/n]!! So.. you fancy going on a socially distanced pic-nic tomorrow? Don’t worry about bringing anything but yourself. I got the rest covered, obviously if you're ok with that?😃

Reading the text over multiple times, pinching yourself to make sure it was real. You hadn’t seen Daichi in close to 3 months, and within that time you had developed feelings. What would it be like seeing him in person now, generally being awkward with past crushes, you started to worry about scaring him away. You couldn’t do that, you needed him. Taking a couple paces around the room thinking about what to reply, before realising you were most definitely overthinking it. He didn’t see you that way…

[y/n] - Yeah sure! Just let me know a time and place, i will be there

Daichi - 1pm at the park round the corner from your house?

[y/n] - See you there!!

The next morning you woke up with a huge smile plastered on your face, excited for the day ahead. Jumping out of bed and rummaging through your wardrobe you pulled out a cute summer dress, not too dressy but showed you put effort in none the less. The summer dress was red and was covered in little white flowers, you had only worn it a couple times and decided it needed another outing.

Walking down your road and around the corner to the park, the wind hitting your face made you feel like maybe the world was getting back to normal. As you walked through the gates, you noticed Daichi stood over by a slightly more wooded area, smiling as you made your way over to him. Greeting each other you forgot how much his laugh and smile made it seem like nothing else mattered, making your heart beat faster in your chest. He ended up leading you through the woods and into a small opening which had 2 picnic blankets laid down at the appropriate distance. As you got closer you noticed that there were sandwiches, fruit and small cakes on both.

‘You didn’t have to do this Daichi you know? A simple sandwich would have been fine?’ You started smiling at him, no one had ever gone to this much effort for you and honestly you felt bad. ‘It must have taken you a bit to set this up…’

‘Oh no, honestly don’t worry about it… i wanted to, neither have been out in a while so i figured why not?’ The laugh that came out sounded almost nervous, which confused you slightly… Was he really as nervous as you?

The afternoon went by quicker than both of you wanted. Chatting, cracking jokes and eating, which the food Daichi had made was really good. You had asked why he had never told you about his clear culinary skills, apparently this was the first time he had attempted something like this. Trying not to get too far ahead of yourself when he had mentioned this, even though you were freaking out. Mainly chatting about quarantine life and how you missed being out of lockdown, being able to socialise freely and do whatever you wanted.

You only realised how long you had been with Daichi when it started to get dark, letting him know you should probably be getting back. Even though in reality you could have stayed there for the rest of the night and into the early morning. Helping him pack everything up occasionally sneaking glances at him, wishing you could pull him into a hug or give him a peck on the cheek. Just to let him know how much he had helped you over the past month. Sadly you couldn’t, once everything had been packed away Daichi (being the gentleman that he is) offered to walk you back.

‘I had a really good afternoon, thank you for this Daichi…’ Smiling at him as you walk up to your front door.

‘Would you want to do something like this again maybe?’ The way he looked at you, his eyes almost pleading, with a slight smile gracing his lips. This made your heart instantly melt.

‘If you want to? I would love that!’

‘[y/n]... why would i ask if i didn’t want to?’ Raising a brow at you playfully.

‘Shut up you dork, i’ll see you soon then!’ Laughing as you walk through your door giving him a wave before closing it and sliding down it on the other side, trying to calm your heart that was about to burst through your chest.

Another couple weeks past, you had only met up with Daichi once more, but both were still texting all day with the occasional call. You also had met up with Kiyoko within these weeks, explaining your situation. She thought it was really funny how much you were worrying about it because to her it seemed obvious that he returned your feelings. You were still completely denying this fact though, it was something your brain really couldn’t fathom. However, the next day lockdown was reduced once again, you were now allowed to have people in your house from other families.

Being as excitable as you were and the fact your parents were out almost all of the time, you rattled off a text to Daichi asking him if he fancied a chill movie marathon night? Both of you deciding to watch The Hobbit trilogy later on in the evening. Hopping up from the couch you started cleaning the house, preparing snacks and setting up pillows as well as blankets on the couch. Seen as though it was a chill night you had decided on a pair of grey sweats and a plain v-neck t-shirt, that was tied so it wasn’t too long.

You had just finished setting everything up when there was a knock at the door, practically running to get it. Opening the door to his smiling face made something snap and you don’t know what came over yourself as you jumped into his arms, wrapping your own around him. Luckily he was quick to catch you.

‘What did i do to deserve this hug?’ He chuckles to himself as you nuzzle into his neck.

‘Everything. Daichi I owe you so much, you don’t even understand’ Letting out a sigh, he closes the door and carries you over to the couch. Placing you down next to him as you pout at him, sad that the hug was over so soon. You had waited for so long to be wrapped up in his arms and when you finally get the chance it barely lasts 2 minutes.

‘Listen Daichi… you have helped me so much over the past few months, and honestly…’ Taking a breath to figure out how to phrase your next words, however before you could say anything else he had pulled you back into his chest.

‘I like you too dork…’ Frozen in his arms, how long had he known… How long had he liked you back? All you could do in that moment was snake your arms round him and enjoy each other's company as he started the first film.

~ BONUS ~

‘How long have you liked me Daichi?’ You question him half way through the first film.

‘About 6 months give or take why?’ He turns his attention towards you and gives you a quick head kiss, before looking back to the film.

‘6 months… that's before we went into lockdown..?’

He hums, smirking at your clearly oblivious nature, as your brain was spiralling thinking about how many signals you missed.

Tags: @super-noya @stcrryskies @iwaxme @bb-noya @vventure @ardorwrites-hq-mha @scorpiosanssexy

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