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hazbincalifornia · 3 years

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Since I’m posting smut with Kit... this is probably the only IZ-exclusive smut I’ll put here, but let’s just say that Kit has a few daddy issues. (He could probably high-five Stella, lmao.) This is over a year old at this point, but it still mostly stands, I say. Bobbin is Kit’s other partner, he’s poly. (Technically Bobbin came first, but with the fact that Twix brought him along to visit Stella a few times when he was young, he probably did know Clove longer.)

Warnings: Incest roleplay. One of them is a shapeshifter. Do the math.

Wordcount: 1450

Rating: E

Kit’s back hit the worn oak of the treehouse and slid down with a groan, burying his face in his knees, the rich scent of soil caked on his boots and the sounds of the birds and rustling trees keeping him unfortunately rooted in the here-and-now.

It was just his insecurities talking, he knew. They’d both been there last night, they’d both applauded, but seeing how they fawned over Twix’s latest project when she’d brought it around… his shoulders hitched as he forced back a sob, the tear in his jeans brushing the skin of his face.

“Kitten?” He didn’t look up at first, not until a gentle hand rested on his knee. Of course. Bobbin had followed. “What troubles you?”

“Nothing.” Kit muttered.

“It’s something. You’re usually so happy.” Bobbin’s hand moved to Kit’s cheek, and Kit couldn’t help but nuzzle into the warm touch.

“It’s… it’s just…” He sucked in a deep breath. “It still feels like they don’t like me as much as they liked Twix, alright?” He scrubbed at his eyes. “I should be over this, I’m 18, I’m about to graduate high school, but I can’t help it. I know they mean it when they say they care, but I can’t make myself believe it sometimes.”

He could hear the little fuzzy zap as the meekrob shifted. It was common enough for him to shift as soon as he felt another form best fit his mood or the conversation, so Kit didn’t think anything of it until he turned to face him-

And damn near fell out the window and down 15 feet to his death.

“What are you doing?”

“You wanted praise, didn’t you?”

Kit glanced down, then back up, taking in every detail. Scruffy black jeans, a patchwork trench coat, a blue turtleneck, round glasses with chipped paint on the edges… he even got the number of spikes in the hair right. Normally he was fuzzy on the edges, but today he must have really focused to get all the details, considering if Kit hadn’t heard his voice before, (and not heard anyone climbing into the treehouse behind him) he’d swear he was staring at his dad.

“This is weird, B.”

“I just want you to be happy, Kit.” God, he even had the voice. Kit buried his face in his legs again.

“Bobbin, no.”

“You need to face it sometime. You said you can’t make yourself believe it, right? I wanna help.” Kit looked back up, antennae laid flat as his shoulders hunched, Bobbin watching him with his head tilted to the side. He was clearly trying to go for the cadence and word choice too- he spent more time with Dib than Zim, considering the whole ‘your people tried to kill mine’ thing, which Kit couldn’t really fault him for. That was probably why he picked Dad instead of Papa in the first place- he knew him better.

They stared at each other for a solid minute, seconds ticking away until Bobbin settled down next to him and patted his lap. “Human fathers do this, right?”

“Yeah, to little kids.”

“Well, it might help, won’t it?”

Kit sighed, settling himself down on Bobbin’s legs. “There.”

“Now, tell daddy what’s wrong.”

“B, don’t-” He was cut off as Bobbin set his index finger over Kit’s mouth.

“Shh. I said, tell daddy what’s wrong.”

He refused to admit just how that drew blood up to his cheeks as he looked away, over to the little place where Venus had carved a tiny dragon into the wall with a pocket knife. They’d had some good times in this treehouse. “It feels like Dad-”

“Me. Refer to me as him.”

“B, I don’t think you get how weird this is.”

Bobbin shifted his head back to its default form, a much rounder one Kit liked pinching the cheeks of. “You’ve said your family is weird plenty of times. You have an alien for a boyfriend, an abnormality on Earth I’m told. You deal with weird plenty.”

“I mean, weird-weird.”

“I’ve seen your human internet. This isn’t that unusual, in the grand scheme of things.”

“The internet’s all weirdos, I wouldn’t rely on that.”

“Well, Meekrob are raised communally. We don’t really have parents, just a cluster of elders, so I’m doing my best with what I know of. Humor me, please? I only want you to feel better.” He stroked at Kit’s cheek again, and Kit nuzzled against the hand again, even though it was skinnier this time.

“Alright...”

Bobbin smiled before his face shifted back and he softened his eyes, looking every inch like Kit’s father, eager to listen. Kit swallowed.

“D-dad, I know you do your best, but sometimes it feels like… like you and Papa don’t like me as much as you like Twix.” He rubbed his arm. “I know you try, but it feels like you have to pretend, and you already like the stuff she likes, so I just… I just wish I could make you proud for real, that you cared about what I can do.”

“Oh, honey…” Bobbin-Dib opened his arms, and Kit gnawed on his lower lip before falling against his chest, clinging tightly to him. “I’m so sorry that you feel like that. Of course we love you. We love both of you, and you’re strong and talented and kind… I’m honored to have a son who’d reach out to those in need and helped them find a home.”

Bobbin was obviously trying to figure out what Dib might say and mixing his own good opinion of Kit in, but Kit didn’t really care- just hearing it scratched some deep-down itch. “You’re an artist and a romantic and an excellent magician, and I wouldn’t trade you for the world. I love you for who you are.”

Kit just kept clinging, fingers trembling as he dug them into the thick leather of the coat. “Th-thanks… Dad.”

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but Bobbin didn’t complain as Kit’s clinging slowly turned to grinding against his body without the hybrid even realizing it, the mixture of Bobbin’s natural scent and the close contact driving his unconscious desire. As soon as he realized, his eyes widened and he tried to back up, but Bobbin held a hand on his back, not allowing him up just yet.

“Do you need help, kitten?” The nickname being quietly murmured in Dib’s voice made his knees weak.

“Bobbin…”

“I’ll stop if you want to.” The meekrob’s voice shifted back to normal, but Kit shook his head.

“N-no, just… don’t tell anyone about this, got it?” He grabbed Bobbin’s hand and stuffed it down his pants, undoing the zipper to make it easier to move. “J-just-”

“-Take care of you?” Bobbin-Dib finished with a nod, pressing their faces together into a gentle, chaste kiss before pulling away. “I can do that. Daddy’s going to take care of you.”

Dib hadn’t been called ‘daddy’ since Kit was about ten, but he still shuddered, thrusting up against the hand as it wrapped around his tentacle and started stroking it up and down, two fingers dipping into his entrance after bending the tentacle down to get both of them in one go. Kit buried his face in Bobbin-Dib’s shoulder, but he could still feel that the fingers were thinner than usual, and the voice cooing in his ear had been familiar far longer than Bobbin’s had.

But it was cooing praises, and that made him flush further.

‘“You’re doing so good, I’m so proud of you, trusting me like this, I just want to make you feel better, you matter so much, you’re such a good boy…” Definitely a jumble of whatever things Bobbin had picked up from the internet, but Kit wasn’t coherent enough to think that, only that it felt wonderful, and having that voice murmur good things while he was feeling wonderful chiseled out a deep ache and began to fill it with sweet, thick honey.

“D-daddy…” Kit murmured back, and Bobbin-Dib kissed the side of his head. “P-please…”

“Come for me, kitten.”

He came, burying his face in the dip between shoulder and neck, and Bobbin-Dib gently brushed his hair out of his face with his free hand as he pulled the other out of his pants.

“Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah, k-kinda.”

He melted back to his original form before pulling Kit in for another kiss. “Good.”

“N-nobody finds out, right?”

Bobbin pinched his thumb and index finger and drew them across his face, his mouth shifting into a zipper as he did before nodding. At that, Kit smiled, pulling him into another tight hug.

#incest cw #shadow writes stuff #iz #kit #I posted an edited down version of this on main once. wonder how many people guessed lmao #spicy text #this is kinda a similar vibe to the daddy/dad Flavor I want to lean towards with the circus au if that makes sense?#not as directly incest-y but these sort of tangled emotions mixed with hormones that intensify them

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lilixloveswriting · 3 years

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Slugbug

Welcome to another installment of I suck at titles Kouki gets his ass kicked! Ft. @summer-of-whump No. 8 allergies/force-feeding and No. 9 bugs/animals

Summary: Kouki misses lunch due to a prior appointment with some bullies, but not to worry. They would never let him go hungry.

Word Count: 2k

TW: minor whump (Kouki is a high schooler), physical violence, bullying, swearing, force-feeding, vomit (mention), non-con touching/restraints, sex joke made by a minor (they're teenage boys you know how it is)

BNHA OCs Masterlist

Kouki’s back hit the chain-link fence, irritating the bruise from earlier that day. It had almost disappeared, but if the sudden spike in pain told him anything it was that the force had only made it bigger. He grunted, planting his hands at either side of him on the ground, pushing himself up from the slouching position as Ichioka sauntered up to him.

“Damn, light as a feather!” He smiled, wickedness glinting in his eyes as they stared Kouki down. “I mean, really. Do you eat anything?”

Kouki blinked up at him, nervously glancing back at Ichioka’s lackeys. Yamane, upon meeting eyes with him, curled his lip up, taking a few stalking steps forward. “Eh? What’re ya lookin’ at me for? He asked you a question, pretty boy.”

Kouki’s eyes widened as Yamane continued towards him, and his legs scrambled to back himself up further against the fence. His efforts were wasted, however. If his back were pressed into it any more he would become one with the metal.

“Uh, uh-” He stuttered, tearing his gaze away from Yamane to address Ichioka. “I-I-I do! I-I just have f-fast metabolism! That’s it! It’s just cuz of my quirk!” Kouki squeaked, pulling an arm up to shield his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He peeked them open again when no blow came, the silence loud, lifting his head to see the three hyenas simply looking at him. Not in the eyes, though, Kouki realized Ichioka’s gaze was aimed at his forehead.

“So why hasn’t that cut healed yet?” Ichioka asked the question yet again making Kouki aware of the dull pain in his head that he’d managed to ignore since he had gotten it earlier that day.

Kouki swallowed, bottom lip trembling, and to his foes, it looked like fear, but that wasn’t quite it. “...I need food to get energy. And I didn’t have any time at lunch.” It was almost a sneer. Almost. But almost was better than nothing, Kouki reasoned, proud of himself for having the guts to fire anything back at them.

Ichioka chuckled, shoulders bouncing with the laugh. “Chatty today, are we?” His smile dropped shortly after he spoke and he leaned forward with a glower. “Maybe a broken jaw’ll shut you up?”

He didn’t even give Kouki a chance to register his words before throwing his head to the side with his fist. Kouki yelped, initially too disoriented to process anything, but eventually coming to to realize the pain on his face was too high to have broken his jaw. He whimpered as his fingertips made contact with his cheekbone, but at least they came away clean. It would be hard to hide a split cheek. He was going to run out of band-aids soon.

“Don’t worry, Kirishima. We weren’t gonna let you starve. What kinda friends would we be then?” Ichioka said, and Kouki placed his shaky hands on the concrete to better grasp his bearings before lifting his head. Ichioka had his back turned to him, but not for long as he turned back around, one of those coffee tumbler mugs in hand. “Hope you’re hungry.” Ichioka shook the cup, a rattling noise coming from within as he shot Kouki a poisonous smile. “Taketa brought the biggest one he could find!”

“Wha…” Kouki sat back on his knees, squaring his shoulders to face Ichioka. The latter took another step towards him, and Kouki fell back, raising a hand above his face to give him the illusion of having some sort of defense. “Wh-what...what is it?”

“Aww don’t want him to waste his food on you?” He tossed his head over his shoulders at his friends, “That’s our Kouki, huh? Always so considerate.” They snickered, as did he as he turned his attention back on the cowering boy. “Don’t worry. Taketa has plenty crawling around his walls at home. He won’t miss one or two.”

Kouki’s eyes widened. “Crawling?”

Taketa’s laughing stopped, his face screwing up into an offended scowl. “H-hey! I don’t have roaches!” He shouted, hands clenched into fists at his sides, blushy embarrassment creeping up his head.

Ichioka paused his pursuit, shoulders slouching before he slowly turned back to glare at Taketa. Kouki couldn’t see his face, a silent mercy he decided, seeing how Taketa’s expression immediately shifted. “What was that? Seems you can’t keep your mouth shut? Maybe I should stuff yours with something instead.”

The air was thick with silence as Taketa’s lower lip trembled, then his body relaxed, arms dropping with his head. His eyes met with Kouki for a split moment, and though neither of them said anything, the surprise Taketa caught in Kouki’s eyes was enough to irritate him, causing Taketa to grit his teeth, scoffing as he snapped his gaze away.

“Agh, shit…where was I?” Ichioka groaned, dropping the scary calm tone he’d used to threaten Taketa as he rubbed his free hand on the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Open up, Kouki.” His smile returned and Ichioka continued toward Kouki, tipping the mug side to side in his hand.

“N...n-no, wait!” Kouki waved his hand out in front of him, scooching back on his bottom until he hit the fence again. Still, Ichioka pursued him, crouching down to the boy's level. “P-please! Hold on! I- AH!” He screamed as Ichioka grabbed hold of his chin, the sound of his own skin sizzling in his ears from where Ichioka had licked his fingers.

“That’s it! Say ‘ahh!’” Ichioka mocked him, and Kouki felt the sting of tears begin to well up in his eyes.

“No! Please...mmph!” Kouki clamped his mouth shut when Ichioka ignored his begging, proceeding to raised the mug and flip the cap to the drinking part off. He screamed as hard as he could with his jaw locked closed, the tears now spilling onto his cheeks as he struggled in Ichioka’s grip. He tossed his head this way and that, defiantly dodging the opening of the cup every time Ichioka pressed it to his face.

“Urrg, fuck!” Ichioka growled, his irritation reaching its peak as he ushered Yamane towards him. “Fucking grab him when I say.”

Kouki almost broke, wanting to shout out in protest when Yamane extended a hand out towards him, but he didn’t even have time to pride himself on keeping his mouth shut before it fell open again, the breath being expelled from his body as Ichioka’s fist made contact with his chest. Kouki couldn’t even hear Ichioka give his order over his coughing, which came to an immediate halt when he felt Yamane’s hand on his neck.

Kouki froze, unable to move or speak or do anything but scream as Ichioka readjusted his grip on his chin, tilting his head back in time with the cup, pressed forcefully to his lips, trapping his distressed cries inside the 20-ounce mug. He wanted to thrash, to fight back, to do anything, but with Yamane’s quirk stiffening all of his muscles, Kouki was completely at their mercy, or more accurately their disposal.

The wait was torturous. It felt like it went on forever, as though the bug knew what was waiting for it and was trying to delay its death for as long as possible. Ichioka wasn’t quite as patient and shook the cup in agitation, thunking it against Kouki’s mouth, bruising the exposed parts of his lips, and splitting the skin on the softer side open with his teeth. Finally, after much shaking and tapping, the insect made an appearance.

And again, Kouki screamed. Its antennae danced on his immobile tongue, feeling around for any threats of danger as it continued to slowly emerge. Somehow Ichioka could tell when it was all the way out of the mug, likely from Kouki’s cries, and tossed the empty cup to the side, the metal clanking down loudly on the pavement.

For a split second, Yamane let Kouki go but only long enough for Ichioka to cup his hand over Kouki’s nose, manually bringing his jaws together, holding his mouth closed in the same way someone would a dog’s. Kouki felt all of his muscles flex again and grunted at the way Yamane squeezed the nape of his neck.

“Mmhmph! Mm! Mph!” Kouki huffed, finding his breathing somewhat constricted by the pressure on his nose.

“Shh! Shh, Kouki, listen.” Ichioka hushed him and Kouki felt his face grow hot under his tears. Ichioka kept using his first name. Kouki never gave him permission to use his first name. He hated the way it sounded coming from him.

“MMHMPH!” He shut his eyes, really it was all he could do. His chest heaved as his body tried to break free from Yamane’s quirk.

“Calm down.”

Calm down?! How could he?! He could feel the bug in his mouth, its little feet pitter-pattering all over his taste buds, violating his tongue as it sniffed around with long antennae, tickling his uvula.

Kouki gagged feeling it near the back of his throat, eyes widening with absolute and utter repulsion.

“Shh! No, don’t throw up! Kouki, listen, look at me.”

His eyes peeked open, though he really couldn’t see anything through his tears.

“You can do this. Come on. You’ve gotten through way worse than this, I know you can do it.”

Kouki whimpered. He was right. He’d been through a lot of awful shit, arguably more torturous than this. And this was something he could actually end. He couldn’t tell where the bug was anymore, the sensation had spread all throughout his mouth.

“Just finish it, yeah?”

He didn’t have to chew it, he just had to get it down. He just had to swallow. Kouki worked his tongue, eyes fluttering shut in disturbance as he tried to decipher where the insect was sitting. It stopped its movement temporarily as Kouki moved, desperately working the bug towards the back of his mouth. He was started to get short on oxygen, he realized. As his anxiety levels rose his breathing wanted to quicken as well, and it only got worse as the realization sparked panic.

“HHN!” Kouki gagged again at the feeling of the bug’s wings beating at the roof of his mouth, but didn’t let himself dwell on it, throwing all of his focus into just getting it down. His fingers braced themselves on Ichioka’s arms, desperate to ground his consciousness. He had to stay conscious, he’d never be able to swallow it if he didn’t. And with the steady diminishment of oxygen, it was getting easier and easier to dissociate.

The bug was fighting back now, but Kouki was bigger. He could do it. It was at the back of his tongue now, all he had to do was push it down into his throat. A simple motion, really, a bodily reflex. To the back of the throat and down the esophagus, just like anything else. He could still feel the antennae, the legs, the wings, feeling around, pushing back, but his tongue was stronger. And finally, finally, he got it past his uvula.

But that was about as far as it got. He felt it squirming around, scratching its way back up his esophagus and hanging on his epiglottis, using it as leverage to grab onto his tonsils. Kouki retched, body convulsing as he choked and Ichioka backed off, jumping back to avoid getting puked on. Kouki didn’t puke, but allowed his jaw to drop open, his hands clawing at his throat before diving into his mouth, fingers scraping at his tongue to help the damn thing crawl out. He heaved dryly and beat on his sternum with the ball of his palm, hunching himself over on his knees to use gravity to his advantage. He let his tongue loll out of his mouth, coughing, and with one final, painful, forced gag the intruder flew out. Through blurry eyes Kouki could make out the shape of a cockroach almost the size of his thumb on the ground, drowned in spit and mucus. Barely alive, but then, so was he. Kouki continued to cough, ears ringing as his body worked to replenish his brain with oxygen. It was sitting there, trying to regain his bearings once more with nothing to hold onto that he realized he had been using Ichioka. He wasn’t holding him when he was first restrained because...well because he couldn’t move. He couldn’t move anything, not his hands, his eyes, his tongue— which means Yamane had let him go. Yamane had to let Kouki go for him to swallow. Yamane had let him go and yet…

His hands were on Ichioka’s arms, his head clung to Ichioka’s voice...he wasn’t even struggling in his grip. He stayed. Kouki stayed. The only thing holding him in place was Ichioka and even then, all he had done was hold Kouki’s jaw closed. It was Ichioka’s voice that calmed him down enough to think straight, it was Ichioka—

FUCK! Damn it! What the fuck?! Why…

Kouki sobbed, still coughing up his lungs with every attempt at a breath. He was so compliant. So...small and...damn it...he wasn’t manly at all…

“Oh, that won’t do at all, you ungrateful piece of shit.”

Kouki wailed as Ichioka’s foot met with his side, sending him flying back into the fence again, only this time he didn’t have the strength to keep himself propped upright, only continuing to cry as this body slammed into the pavement. There were hands on his shoulders and arms, yanking him up into a sitting position as Ichioka walked forward, bending over to dangle the roach in Kouki’s face.

“Let’s try again, shall we? And this time I expect you to do more than just deep throat it.”

Tags: @grizzlie70

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shadowofthelamp · 4 years

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This is kinda a weird one, but I’m still trying to flesh out Kit especially outside of him being a sort of ‘gag’ character, which led to this. Bobbin tries to help Kit grapple with his anxiety, in a very alien way.

Wordcount: 1075

Rating: I guess I’d call it T just to be safe?

Kit’s back hit the worn oak of the treehouse and slid down with a groan, burying his face in his knees. The rich scent of soil caked on his boots, the sounds of the birds, and the rustling trees keeping him unfortunately rooted in the here-and-now. Thanks, double-good hearing.

It was just his insecurities talking, he knew. They’d both been there last night, they’d both applauded, and they’d even been eager to hear some of his stories, but seeing how they fawned over Twix’s latest project when she’d brought it around and just how often they compared them… his shoulders hitched as he forced back a sob, the tear in his jeans brushing the skin of his face.

“Kitten?” He didn’t look up at first, not until a gentle hand rested on his knee. Of course. Bobbin had followed. “What troubles you?”

“Nothing.” Kit muttered.

“It’s something. You’re usually so happy.” Bobbin’s hand moved to Kit’s cheek, and Kit couldn’t help but nuzzle into the warm touch.

“It’s… it’s just…” He sucked in a deep breath. “It still feels like they, I mean my parents, don’t like me as much as they liked Twix, alright?” He scrubbed at his eyes. “I should be over this, I’m 18, I’m about to graduate high school, but I can’t help it. I know they mean it when they say they care, but I can’t make myself believe it sometimes when she casts such a big shadow.”

And damn near fell out the window and down 15 feet to his death.

“What are you doing?”

“You wanted praise, didn’t you?”

“This is weird, B.”

“I just want you to be happy, Kit.” God, he even had the voice. Kit buried his face in his legs again.

“Bobbin, no.”

“You need to face it sometime. You said you can’t make yourself believe it, right? I wanna help.” Kit looked back up, antennae laid flat as his shoulders hunched, Bobbin watching him with his head tilted to the side. He was clearly trying to go for the cadence and word choice too- he spent more time with Dib than Zim considering the whole ‘your people tried to kill mine’ thing, which Kit couldn’t really fault him for. That was probably why he picked Dad instead of Papa in the first place, he knew him better.

They stared at each other for a solid minute, seconds ticking away until Bobbin settled down next to him and patted his lap. “Human fathers do this, right?”

“Yeah, to little kids.”

“Well, it might help, won’t it?”

Kit sighed, settling himself down on Bobbin’s legs. “There.”

“Now, tell Dad what’s wrong.”

“B, don’t-” He was cut off as Bobbin set his index finger over Kit’s mouth.

“Shh. I said, tell Dad what’s wrong.”

Kit drew in a breath as he looked away, over to the little place where Venus had carved a tiny dragon into the wall with a pocket knife. They’d had some good times in this treehouse. “It feels like Dad-”

“Me. Refer to me as him.”

“B, I don’t think you get how weird this is.”

“I mean, weird-weird.”

“I’ve seen your human internet. This isn’t that unusual, in the grand scheme of things.”

“The internet’s all weirdos, I wouldn’t rely on that.”

“Alright...”

Bobbin smiled before his face shifted back and he softened his eyes, looking every inch like Kit’s father, eager to listen. Kit swallowed.

Kit just kept clinging, fingers trembling as he dug them into the thick leather of the coat. “Th-thanks...”

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but Bobbin didn’t complain as Kit nuzzled against him, inhaling the familiar spacy scent, the one part he couldn’t change. Kit was content to simply sit until Bobbin-Dib gently brushed his hair out of his face.

“Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah, k-kinda.”

He melted back to his original form before pulling Kit in for a kiss. “Good.”

“N-nobody finds out, right? I don’t want either of them-”

Bobbin pinched his thumb and index finger and drew them across his face, his mouth shifting into a zipper as he did before nodding. At that, Kit smiled, pulling him into another tight hug.

#kit #bobbin #shadow writes stuff #sometimes therapy is your alien bf turning into your dad and giving you a hug #aip #iz #iz blogging

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krizaland · 5 years

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Enter the Zimvoid Chapter 10

First Chapter Previous

Alrighty! We’re on our way to spoiler town! This is your last chapter before spoilers for Issue #48 start popping up!

“Alright! Now that we’re all tolerating each other, I need to- ACK!”

You were cut off by 100 scooping you up into his burly arms.

100 rumbled with chirps and purrs as his massive biceps engulfed you.

“PRETTY Y/N DON’T NEED SAY MORE WORDS. BIG ZIM IS HERE NOW. PRETTY Y/N IS SAFE.” 100 cooed as he rocked you back and forth.

“100! You’re..choking…me…again.” You heaved as you poked your head out of his grip.

“BIG ZIM SO SORRY!” 100 whimpered as he loosened his grip on you.

“I COMMAND YOU TO RELEASE MY Y/N AT ONCE!” Your Zim snarled as he pointed to the ground.

“I wouldn’t argue with him if I were you. Unless you want to get pummeled again.” Specs warned as he adjusted his glasses.

“BE QUIET! I AM THE ULTIMATE ZIM!! AND YOU WILL ALL DO AS I SAY OR-”

“BOYS! ENOUGH! I thought I told you all to get along!” You interjected as you folded your arms.

“Yes, Y/N” The three Zims pouted in unison.

“Good! Now, as I was trying to say-”

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you ok?!” Dib yelped as he rushed over.

You groaned and dragged a hand down your face.

“Yes Dib I’m-”

“TINY DIB STAY AWAY FROM PRETTY Y/N!” 100 roared as he held you protectively.

“Yeah! Don’t get your filthy Dib stink all over them!” Your Zim added.

“Ugh. This is gonna get so ugly…” Specs sighed as he buried his face in his hands.

“You better let go of Y/N you…you really big Zim! Or else I-”

“Dib, stop! I’m not in any danger! I’m fine! He’s not hurting me!” You interjected as you gestured to yourself.

“But he’s-”

“He’s just holding me. I promise I’m fine.” You insisted as you tried to get more comfortable.

“Y/N is fine! Now leave us be!” Your Zim snarled as he pointed for Dib to leave.

“Boys! Can you please stop fighting over me?! This is getting ridiculous! We have more important things to worry about!” You snapped as you wriggled out of 100’s arms.

“Like what, exactly?” Your Zim asked as he folded his arms.

“Getting into Number 1’s castle for starters.” You explained flatly.

“WHAT?! NUMBER 1’S CASTLE?! MAYBE YOU REALLY HAVE GONE INSANE! WHO KNOWS WHAT HE’LL DO TO YOU?!” Specs wailed as he grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you.

“STOP TOUCHING PRETTY Y/N!!” 100 roared as he swiped you up and held you in front of his face, “BIG ZIM CAN GET PRETTY Y/N INTO NUMBER 1’S CASTLE! PRETTY Y/N CAN LIVE WITH BIG ZIM!!”

“Oh I don’t know about-”

“SHH….PRETTY Y/N DON’T NEED TO WORRY. PRETTY Y/N RELAX. BIG ZIM WILL PROTECT YOU.” 100 whispered as he cradled you once more.

“SERIOUSLY?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT KIND OF DANGER YOU’RE GETTING Y/N INTO?!” Specs snarled as he tugged on 100’s tattered leggings.

“BIG ZIM WILL PROTECT PRETTY Y/N! BIG ZIM ALMOST FIRE PROOF NOW.” 100 growled as he kicked Specs away.

“What does being fire proof have to do with anything?” Dib asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Palindrome quipped.

“Without us that is!” 2k beamed as he gestured to the rest of the resistance.

100 was about to pummel everyone when you managed to wriggle out of his arms, climb onto his shoulders, and-

SMOOCH!

You planted the biggest kiss you could on his massive cheek.

100’s PAK sparked as his face turned a darker shade of green. His worm like tongue slid out of his mouth as he let out a thunderous purr.

“There we are. Now will you let the others help us?” You whispered sweetly as you reached up and stroked his antennas.

100 simply nodded and let out a dopey giggle as well as some incoherent gibberish.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. C’mon everyone! Let’s storm that castle!” You urged as you gestured for the rest of the group to catch up.

And with that, the rest of the group let out a loud cheer as they followed you and 100 to the castle.

You stood high upon 100’s bulging muscles as you gazed onwards into the distance.

The ground shook and rattled with every step 100 took but you didn’t care.

All that mattered to you was taking down Number 1 and freeing the rest of the Zims.

Your Zim activated his spider legs and tried to reach you.

“GRRR…”

100’s warning growl sent shivers down your Zim’s spine. However, his love for you was stronger than his fear of 100.

“If you’d just put Y/N down in the first place I wouldn’t have to resort to this!” Your Zim pouted as he reached up for your hand.

SMACK!

THUD!

100 swatted your Zim into the ground.

“TINY ZIM NO TOUCH!”

“Hey! What have we talked about?” You scolded as you shot 100 a glare.

“BIG ZIM NO HURT TINY ZIMS.” 100 sighed as he hung his head.

“Zim? You ok?” You asked as you looked down at your Zim’s crumpled body.

“BIG ZIM IS FINE.”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” You hummed for a moment, “Looks like you could use a nickname too.”

“NICKNAME? BIG ZIM IS PERFECT NAME!” 100 whined.

“True but I need to tell you boys apart. How about I call you...Brutus?” You asked as you snapped your finger.

“BIG ZIM LIKE BIG ZIM BETTER BUT BIG ZIM WILL BE BRUTUS FOR PRETTY Y/N.” Brutus sighed as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Glad you like it! Now Brutus, I think you owe someone an apology.” You chided as you folded your arms.

“BIG ZIM-ERR BRUTUS SORRY, PRETTY Y/N.”

“Not me you goof! The Zim you just hit!” You snapped as you gestured to your Zim still lying on the ground.

“OH. BRUTUS SORRY FOR HITTING TINY ZIM.” Brutus grumbled as he rolled his eyes.

Your Zim let out a groan as he peeled himself off the ground.

“You should be sorry....” Your Zim whimpered as he coughed up the excess dirt.

“Anyway, you’re gonna need a disguise if you’re really gonna storm Number 1’s castle, Y/N.”

Specs said as he activated his spider legs to see you better.

“I already got one but I don’t think I’ll need it. I think Number 1 is more likely to listen to a Y/N rather than a Zim or something.” You explained as you leaned over to look at Specs.

“I guess that’s true...There’s still 98 other Zims to deal with in the castle. Are you sure you can handle all of them?” Specs asked as he adjusted his glasses.

“Sweet Y/N won’t have to deal with any inferior Zim’s! Not while I THE ULTIMATE ZIM, is here!” Your Zim boasted as he reactivated his spider legs.

“I think I’ll be fine. I was told my ‘thing’ is that I’m super attractive to Zims. I don’t think they’d want to hurt me.” You replied as you playfully posed.

“That explains so much...” Specs blushed.

“PRETTY Y/N IS SO PRETTY! THEY MAKE BRUTUS ALL SPARKY!” Brutus giggled as his PAK sparked.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The sparks from Brutus’s PAK caused several Zims to stick to it.

“Yeah, you might wanna be careful where you get all ‘sparky’ unless you want half the planet stuck to your back.” Specs huffed as he brushed off the other Zims.

“BRUTUS NOT SORRY! BRUTUS LOVE PRETTY Y/N!” Brutus poured as he kissed the top of your head.

“Heh. I love them too.” Specs blushed as he felt his own PAK spark.

“I love Y/N more than the both of you! I am the ultimate Zim! So my love is ultimater!” Your Zim pouted as he put a hand on his chest.

“I’m pretty sure ultimater isn’t a word.” You laughed as you playfully shook your head.

“It is now! I’m the ultimate Zim! I can do whatever I want!” Your Zim countered.

“Mm-hm. Well I’ll be honest, I’m really glad you’re ok.” You admitted as you turned to look at your Zim.

“Well of course I’m ok! I AM THE ULTIMATE ZIM! I can handle anything and everything!” Your Zim insisted.

“I guess I should’ve figured that.” You replied with a grin.

“Yes. Yes you should’ve.”

“Ok can you guys shut up now? We’re here.” Dib grumbled as he gestured to Number 1’s castle.

#Invader zim #Invader zim x reader #Invader Zim comics #Invader Zim dib #Invader Zim spoilers #spoilers #invader zim into the zimvoid

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demon-animatronic · 4 years

Text

Writetober Day 20: Rescued (Steelbeak’s Hell)

Notes:

And now some comfort for that hurt and whump.

Warnings: None

Day 20: Rescued

I was driving- well, I guess piloting- my flying SHUSH car over St. Canard in an area that I normally don’t go to. The night was dark and quiet. Part of why I liked doing nightshifts and watching over either Duckburg or St. Canard at night.

It’s been 3 years since I was ‘rescued.’ Though I wouldn’t call it that. If anything, I was lucky that Taurus Bulba didn’t kill me or take me with him as well.

Steelbeak and everything he put me through for those few years never left my mind. No amount of therapy could remove those memories or shove them to the back of my mind where they would be forgotten.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to him. Was he still alive or did he get murdered? If so… where was his body at? Did Taurus Bulba destroy it?

We know he was never found if he’s still alive. Or if he is, he didn’t go back to FOWL and probably went off to restart his life somewhere.

Ever since I got the ‘okay’ from several different doctors so I could come back to SHUSH and be an agent again, I’ve wondered what I would do if I ever came across Steelbeak. My first instinct would be to shoot him.

…At least… I hope that’s what my first instinct would be. And not crawl to his side like nothing changed.

As my mind was once again taken over by Steelbeak, I couldn’t help but notice a small cave and a light shining out of it.

‘That’s weird.’ I thought to myself.

“This is Agent 13. Have you guys ever noticed a small cave with a light on over in my area?” I asked through my walkie talkie.

“Yeah but I never thought anything of it. Just a camper, yah know?” Another agent responded.

“Maybe. But something feels weird about it. I’m going to investigate it just to be sure.” I replied.

“It’s probably just a camper. But alright.” A different agent said.

“I’ll let you know when I get back what it is for sure.” I said and turned the walkie talkie off.

I lowered my car down and landed it on the ground a short distance away from the opening. Putting it into park, I took the keys out and put them in my pocket as I stepped out of it.

Going into the cave, I couldn’t shake the weird and now bad feeling that I had so I ended up taking my gun from it’s holster on my hip. Holding it up in front of me, my finger was off the trigger but ready if needed.

I looked around the entrance of the cave and saw lanterns were where the light was coming from. Which makes sense if it was campers.

But there was mechanical and robotic stuff all over the place. It didn’t look like any campers were there since there wasn’t any sleeping bags or tents or anything. Just robotic stuff.

There was other junk here and there. I even noticed a radio and a TV. How either worked all the way out here, who knows. But I figured the owner had somehow fixed them to work with the antennae. I also saw some other things like a couch, a table with two chairs, a small side table that was by the couch, and a pet bed on the ground too.

I stopped and stared at the pet bed for a moment, a chill going up and down my spine. I began to take deep breaths to calm myself down. That was over and in the past… I didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

But now new questions was thought of. Where are the owners of this stuff and their pet? As far as I can tell, I’m the only one here and there wasn’t any other vehicles outside either.

Going into the back of the cave, I noticed there was some more areas that were lit up but one that wasn’t. I turned my shoulder light on and slowly stepped inside the pitch black room. Thanking god I had put that on my shoulder before I headed out for patrol.

I walked around the room and couldn’t find anything outside of more pet stuff like food bowls, food bag, and so on. That was until I walked closer to the furthest wall and the furthest corner.

I was half expecting a barking dog to go ballistic when my light shined on a big metal cage sitting all alone in the corner and in the dark.

But that wasn’t the case. Instead, I found a person laying curled up in the cage and with their back to me. I kneeled down, wondering if I was imaging things or experiencing some kind of déjà vu. But I know that wasn’t the case. This was very much real and this person needed help.

And I plan on doing that. Because even if I wasn’t an agent for SHUSH, I would still help people when I can.

I went to unlatch the cage only to find there was no latch. Looking at the bars closely, it seemed they were constantly being bent to make a opening before being put back into place.

Makes sense, this guy seemed pretty big despite being malnourished. Even then, he wouldn’t of been able to bend the bars but he probably could’ve stuck a finger or two through and unlatched the cage. Then escape on his own and fight whoever in the meantime.

I looked back to the man when I saw movement. But I could still hear snoring so I knew he was still sleeping. He was laying on a large dog bed and had a blanket over his legs.

Despite the blanket, I was still able to see he was only wearing boxers and something might’ve been around his neck but I couldn’t tell for sure if it’s what I knew it likely was or not. It was obvious that he was a rooster from his feet, head, and tail feathers alone.

My ears pinned down when it finally hit me who it was.

“Steelbeak!?” I couldn’t help but mutter out loud.

I looked his back over and could see a large scar of some kind of a design from his shoulders down to his tail feathers. No doubt that was Taurus Bulba branding him in his own way.

Now the bent bars made sense. Steelbeak couldn’t bend them but Taurus can. But… how come he never used his beak? Unless he did at some point until he was tortured into never doing that again.

A hand slipped under my shirt and I felt my own branding that Steelbeak gave me on both of my sides.

Another chill went down my spine but I managed to push those memories away for the time being. I can’t have a panic attack right now. Not when a certain someone was creeping around.

However, the cave was still quiet aside from his snoring and my heavy breathing. Taurus moved loudly due to being a cyborg. I remembered that perfectly. I would know when he was near.

‘Maybe he isn’t here? Which means I need to work fast.’ I thought to myself as I slowly and quietly holstered my gun.

My ears shot back up at that thought as I took a small laser out and began to quietly cut the front bars off and set them down to the side. There was some clings and clangs but it was mostly quiet, thankfully.

After doing that, I was surprised that he still wasn’t awake. A part of me would’ve thought he was dead if I wasn’t able to see him breathe and snore in his sleep.

I put the laser away and slowly crawled inside the cage and up to him.

“Steelbeak? Hey buddy, you gotta wake up.” I quietly said as I shook his arm as gently as possible.

Now that I was closer, I could see all of the bruises all over his body. His beak even seemed bent and damaged in some way. He was definitely malnourished. And I could see the shock collar around his neck clearly now.

It seemed different than the one I had so he must’ve replaced it. Under it was what looked to be a choke chain with a D-ring. There was also some extra chain behind it to make it easier to grab and pull. The spikes were going into his neck and I could see how bloody and bruised it was just from the chain alone.

“Steelbeak…” I trailed off.

Finally, he jerked awake. I quickly grabbed his beak and held it shut since I didn’t know what he would’ve done. It’s been three years. When I was at that point, I absolutely would’ve called for him about an intruder. And there was a good chance he would do the same now.

“Shh… it’s okay. It‘s okay, Steelbeak.” I quietly said as he began to struggle under me. “It’s me… your favorite SHUSH agent. Remember?”

This seemed to of calmed him down as he looked up to me. I watched as he lifted a hand to the light and moved it so it shined on me until he let it go and moved his hand back.

“I’m going to move my hands away from your beak, okay? You’re not going to call for Taurus Bulba, right?”

He gave me a sad look and I watched him tap at the collar.

“What…?” I asked as I released his beak.

Steelbeak didn’t make a sound as he tapped it again.

“You… you can’t talk, can you?” I asked and he nodded sadly.

That wasn’t just a shock collar… that was a bark collar. Great. Now I need to figure out how to get that off.

“I’m going to try and take it off.” I whispered, slowly reaching behind his neck and grabbed at it.

I played with it for a minute until I realized there wasn’t any kind of buckle on it. So it must’ve been like mine where he needed a remote to take it off after it locks on.

“Okay. New plan.” I say as I moved my hands away from him. “I’ll deal with that later. I’m really sorry. You’ll have to deal with them for a little while longer. I don’t feel uncomfortable taking the chain off without any kind of medical supplies. Come on. Let’s go home.”

I’m not quite sure why I’m even bothering to help him. I guess at this point Taurus Bulba is the bigger of the two evils. And considering how it seems like what he did to me, happened to him, I can’t help but have some sympathy towards the son of a bitch.

I began to crawl backwards, expecting him to follow. But he didn’t. Steelbeak was looking down at his hands and only sat up once I got off of him and backed away.

“Steelbeak?” I started, quietly. “Come on.”

Steelbeak looked up and shook his head. Oh god he wasn’t… There was just no way he was broken. Right?

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you. That’s what an agent of SHUSH does. They save and protect people.” I added.

He still didn’t move towards me so I moved back over to him. He was visibly shaking when I did though. And lowered himself so he wasn’t taller than me while sitting on our heels.

I sighed and gently grabbed the sides of his face with both hands. And rested my forehead against his.

“You know he’s a bad person. You know what he has done to you is illegal.”

Steelbeak inched closer to me, still shaking a little bit.

“I… I’ve missed you.” I lied. “Let’s go home. You don’t belong here with him. And you know that deep down, you aren’t a pet either.”

He pulled away and began tapping at the bottom of the cage. Then he pointed to me and tapped the bottom of the cage again before pointing to himself. It took me a minute but I finally caught on.

“Do… you want me to stay?” I asked if that was it and he nodded. “I can’t stay here and go round 2. Same abuse, different person.”

Steelbeak frowned and lowered his head. Whether it was because I wasn’t staying or because I reminded him of what he did to me, I’m not sure.

“But I can’t leave you here either.” I added. “I promise I’ll protect you from Taurus Bulba. And I’m not angry at you anymore about what you did to me. If I was still angry, I wouldn’t be trying to help you now. What happened is in the past. Let’s move on. Whether it be as friends or enemies is up to you to decide later once we’re safe and away from here. You… you don‘t deserve to go through this. Not anymore. I think three years is long enough since that’s about as long as you had me.”

Steelbeak finally looked at me again with tears at the corners of his bruised eyes. I filled the small gap between us and slowly raised my hand towards him. He visibly flinched but otherwise didn’t move as I wiped the tear that had come out.

“See? I’m not angry. Let’s leave before he-” I stopped talking at a sound.

Then I heard loud footsteps. Fuck! Steelbeak must’ve heard them too because he gave me the most petrified look that I’ve ever seen him give me. I shushed him and turned the shoulder light off. I gently took him by the hand and slowly crawled out of the cage with him following. I backed up until I was against the opposite wall.

The memories of running and hiding from Taurus Bulba flooded my mind as we sat there. Almost in the same positions that we were in that night just the other way around.

I listened for the footsteps as I heard them come closer. Taurus walked by the room to the main area and entrance. I mentally prayed that he wouldn’t see my car or stay there all night.

My prayers seemed to of been answered since I heard him walk back this way and to whatever area he came from. Once the footsteps had quieted down completely and I felt he was a good distance away, I slowly moved.

I didn’t turn my light back on but used the wall to stand back up. Steelbeak was still holding my hand and I slowly got him up too. I felt him grab my shoulders, trying to steady himself as I held his waist.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold him up and keep an eye out for Taurus Bulba at the same time.

“Hey buddy, get back down. I’m going to need you to crawl beside me alright? I can’t protect you and hold you up at the same time.” I whispered as I slowly helped him back down.

I took my gun out and held it in my left hand as my right held the back of his shock collar so I could guide him out of the dark room. My left arm still on the wall and letting me know when I made it to the opening.

As quietly as possible, I led him out to the main area and straight to my car. There was no time to get him to the passenger seat so I opened the back door and sat him down there.

What I didn’t realize was that Taurus Bulba was watching us on his motion cameras. He knew the whole time I was there and simply wanted to see what I would do.

“There.” I shut the back door, keys already in my other hand.

I opened the driver’s door and quickly stuck the keys in the ignition. Right as I turned the car on and was about to shut my door, I felt something grab me by the neck and drag me back to the cave.

Before I could even come to terms with being choked, I was thrown down onto the hard ground.

I grunted as I looked up at the feet that was standing directly in front of me and I internally cursed as I rubbed my neck. Looking up, Taurus Bulba was standing in front of me with his arms crossed and looking extremely pissed off.

“Well, I didn’t expect you of all people to try and rescue that dumb mutt.” Taurus said in his normal tone.

I unintentionally flinched at that and Taurus caught it.

“Ah yes… he probably called you that, didn’t he? At least you got an actual name unlike him. I just call him whatever degrading name I can think of at the time. What did he call you again? Lucy? Layla?”

“L-Lucky.” My voice cracked as I got to my hands and knees.

“That was it!” Taurus kneeled down and grabbed my snout. “Because it was ironic for your situation, yes?”

“Hm hmm.” I nodded, my ears lowering on their own.

“Well, I don’t appreciate it when someone tries to steal my property. Now… you had a chance to get back to your old life a few years ago. Do you want that chance again?” Taurus asked, letting go of my snout.

“Obviously.” I rubbed my snout.

“You have two choices. Either leave alone or you don’t leave at all.” Taurus said before adding “You got 10 seconds to decide before I decide for you.”

As we were talking, Steelbeak was figuring out his own options while still in the back of my car. He didn’t want to stay here with him but he didn’t want anything to happen to me either.

He looked at the front area and the different buttons that was near the radio and cup holders. Surely there was… yes! Steelbeak smiled to himself when he saw a SOS button.

After pressing it, it began to silently blink. He hoped that meant that SHUSH would be notified and would get here ASAP.

Slowly, he got out of the car to come over to us. Taurus smiled when he crawled over on all fours and sat beside me.

“Good dog.” Taurus said, patting him on the head. “What do you think we should do with this stray?”

Steelbeak and I looked at each other for a minute as he thought about it.

Then he pointed to the collar before pointing it to me.

“Hmm… I was going to euthanize her but okay. I think you know not to make a sound by now, don’t you?” Taurus asked, taking the remote to his collar out and pressing a button.

The collar unlocked and Taurus grabbed it off of his neck. Revealing a very bloody and bruised ring around his neck and his feathers.

I jumped up and grabbed at the arm that was holding the collar.

“Steelbeak, get back to the car!” I quickly said as Taurus tried to throw me off of himself.

“Stay here, you damn dog!” Taurus ordered and Steelbeak listened to him.

Taurus finally managed to throw me a couple of feet away. I grunted again since this time I landed on my arm very hard. I rolled over onto my stomach, about ready to push myself up when I was suddenly pinned down.

I was surprised to find Steelbeak on top of me and grabbing my arms to hold them behind me. He also moved my ponytail so it was off to the side.

“Good dog.” Taurus chuckled as he came up to us.

Taurus tightened the collar up as much as he could before he forced it around my neck and locked it in place.

“I think the bad dog deserves a big shock for that alone. Clearly someone needs to be retrained.” Taurus laughed as he pressed a button.

My yelp of pain startled Steelbeak who jumped off of me as I began to whine and shake on the ground. Taurus put the remote away and enjoyed the first show of many.

It finally stopped and I was in the middle of telling him to fuck off when the collar shocked me again without him even pressing a button. Right. This is apparently a bark collar. I can’t make a sound with it on.

The pain went away again and I just laid there. Trying to think of a plan to save us both.

“Are you going to bark or whine again?” Taurus asked and I shook my head. No. Not right now. “Good. Let’s go.”

Taurus grabbed me by the collar and whistled at Steelbeak.

We were about to go into the cave when we heard helicopters above us and a bright light shined down right onto us.

Taurus let go of me and flew up to deal with them. In the meantime, some more flying cards flew down and parked with their headlights on us.

“SH-USH?” Steelbeak quietly said and trembled beside me.

I strangely felt better when he was finally able to speak. Even if it was in a voice that clearly needed some speech therapy after so long.

All I could do was nod as I slowly rubbed his back. Then I got his attention and wrote SOS on my hand. He nodded, confirming that he did press that button and that’s why they were here.

“Agent 13? And… Steelbeak?” A few agents came towards us.

I got in front of him and tapped at my neck. One got the message and came over to look at it. Now that there was a bright light shining on it, they were able to use some tools in their car to get it off without the remote. We confirmed it was just us three so the other agents went back to the sky to help defeat Taurus Bulba.

“There. It’s off now.” Agent 19 said, removing the collar.

“Thank god. I couldn’t make a sound with it on.” I replied, turning back around to face her.

“Bark collar?” She asked and I nodded. “God these are awful! Both on dogs and people!”

“How do you think he feels?” I asked, side stepping to show Steelbeak sitting on the ground and leaning against the car. “He had it on for roughly three years.”

“Yeah but… didn’t he have one on you too?” She questioned.

“Not quite. It wasn’t a bark collar.” I replied. “Since I’m sure you guys got things handled here, I’m going to take him to the hospital.”

“V-eeet?” Steelbeak moaned.

“No vet.” I shook my head. “Hospital.”

“Oh geez… that’s… I’m not sure how to feel about that…”

“Trust me, you’re not the only one feeling conflicted.” I replied to her.

“I’ll let the other agents know you took both of you to safety far away from here where he can’t hurt either of you anymore.” Agent 19 said.

“Thank you.” I nodded and helped him up again. “Come on, buddy. We’re going to my car.”

Once he was settled in the passenger seat and buckled. I jumped into the driver’s seat and quickly took to the sky. Once we were a good distance away from there, I pressed a button.

“Where would you like to go?” The car asked.

“St. Canard hospital.” I said.

“Okay. Auto piloting to St. Canard Hospital. Would you like me to get there quickly?” The car asked.

“Yes.” I confirmed. “Emergency.”

“Understood. Heading to St. Canard Hospital at emergency speed.” The car started to fly much faster and on it’s own.

“I love technology.” I smiled to myself. “The one downside is that the landing is still a bit off so you have to quickly turn it off and do it yourself.”

I heard an attempt to chuckle beside me and looked at Steelbeak, who was now frowning and touching his neck.

“Hey buddy, don’t do that and agitate it. The doctors will take care of everything. Did you find what I said funny?”

He trembled again and I slowly held one of his hands with mine.

“It’s okay. You can do that again and not be scared of getting hurt. Hearing you try to laugh actually made me feel a lot better.”

“So…rry.”

“For what? Having him put the collar on me?” I asked and he nodded in confirmation. “Don’t worry about it. That was actually really smart and you may have saved my life doing it.”

Steelbeak slowly moved and wrapped him arms around me, giving me a tight hug. Sighing, I hugged him back.

My original plan was to get him to the hospital, contact SHUSH about the situation, and hoped that would be it outside of having to deal with Taurus Bulba eventually. But now I’m not sure if I can leave him and not ever come back to visit with a good conscience.

Why was I cursed to be such a good person… even to my worst enemy…

#Writetober #Writetober 2020 #Steelbeaks Hell #Lexi the dog

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profitinaecho · 4 years

Text

Dark! Max pt5 (explicit under cut)

“Morning.” Liz startled at Max’s voice next to her in bed. He had stayed the night. She hadn’t expected him to, but then he constantly surprised her lately.

“You stayed.” Liz stretched as she woke up, her toes rubbing against Max’s leg as she elongated. She willed herself not to get her hopes up but she was giddy and couldn’t help it.

“Well, you wore me out and then you fell asleep on me and I couldn’t bring myself to move you.” Max ghosted his lips against her forehead. Waking up next to Liz was nice, but confusing. “I remember how I used to feel. Ever since we connected I’ve felt strange.” Liz gasped at his admission. “And I still feel something, but I’m not sure I am in love with you yet.”

“That makes sense and is fair, Max. Maybe someday we will find our way back to each other.” She reached to turn the bedside lamp on and realized Max blew out the lightbulb last night.

“Maybe. I’ll stop by soon and we can talk.” Max climbed out the window and Liz took a deep breath and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She had hope that things would be alright for the first time in a long time.

——————————

“Liz, how did you get that huge bruise on your inner thigh?” Isobel asked as Liz came down the stairs.

“Uhm, I ran into my bedside table.” Liz was a horrible liar. Max was definitely the one who marked her there.

“But that would hit your… oh. My. God. That’s a hickey. I don’t know whether to hope Max did it or not.” Isobel wrinkled her nose in distaste. Would she rather her brother be well enough to be banging his true love? Sure, if she didn’t have to think about it. It was definitely better than thinking about how else it might have gotten there.

Liz blushed furiously then reached for her phone in her back pocket when it buzzed.

Max: You up?

Liz: Who is this again?

Liz watched the dots start then stop several times before her phone buzzed again.

Max: The guy whose dick you rode less than 5 hours ago.

Liz smiled then quickly typed a response.

Liz: Which one?

The dots on her phone start humping as he typed rapidly back. “Is that my brother? You’ve got a stupid smile stuck on your face.” Isobel called her out and Liz nodded in answer.

Max: I better be the only guy covered in your fluids this morning.

Every muscle below Liz’s waist clenched. Blood rushed to her cheeks and then lower. Isobel scoffed and left the room. She didn’t need to watch their bizarre foreplay. Liz chewed on her index finger nail unsure if she wanted to entertain the direction their conversation was going. Max was still kind of an ass but those orgasms…

Her phone rang in her hand when she didn’t answer fast enough and Liz jumped then answered it. There’s no hello, just Max’s gravelly voice low in her ear. “Still confused, Liz? Having a hard time remembering my tongue on your body? Wanna swing by my house before work so I can remind you?”

Liz bit her knuckle to stop from immediately agreeing to the idea. She’s guaranteed to make all sorts of bad decisions if she went over there. She doesn’t think it is normal to be this attracted to another person.

“My dick is holding out for you, Liz.” Max rumbled across the line when she didn’t reply.

Liz felt her hope grow again and laughed. “You should tell it not to hold its breath. It’ll turn blue.”

“He’s already blue. You should come by and see.”

“You can send me a picture.” Liz almost hoped he actually did.

“It’s not the same if you don’t see it in person.”

“I can’t today. I’m on my way out the door to the Crashdown.” Liz told him goodbye and left for work. On her way to work, her phone buzzed with a picture of Max flipping her off completely naked. That exact finger was inside her last night. His abs and prominent V pointing further south were on display. Liz almost hit a curb when she realized he’s touching himself with his other hand. She doesn’t send a response and just pulls into the Crashdown flushed.

——————————

That evening, another photo text came in. It was a close up of Max’s neck and jaw. He was wearing a white undershirt like he was changing clothes or relaxing at home. There were red lines of scratches from his ear disappearing down under the collar of his T-shirt.

Max: I’m collecting for damages next time I see you

Liz realized those were scratches- from her. She wondered about how exactly he was planning to collect for damages. She was excited to find out.

Liz: Are you trying to sext me?

Max: Is it working? Do you want to be sexted?

Liz felt a giant smile spread across her face.

Liz: Maybe. I haven’t ever really done this before.

Max: What are you wearing?

Liz bit her lip and looked down at her outfit. She was wearing her Crashdown uniform since she just got off work. She unbuttoned the top two buttons, fluffed her hair and put her antennas back on, Holding her phone up, she looked into the camera with doe eyes and pouty lips and sent it to Max before she talked herself out of it.

Max: Fuck.

——————————

The next day, Max came into the Crashdown during his lunch break in uniform and was headed to sit in Liz’s section when an attractive blonde woman rushed up to him.

“Officer Evans! Three years ago, you saved my life. How can I ever repay you?” The woman clung to his biceps and batted her lashes. Liz couldn’t take her eyes off of them. She felt warm and some strange emotion curling in her belly. Rolling her eyes when the woman threw her arms around him, Liz moved around them to head towards the bathroom. As she passed them, she heard Max make an excuse before feeling his heat against her back.

“Where are you off to?” Max ran a finger from the nape of Liz’s neck just under her ponytail, all the way to the base of her spine.

Liz shivered as sparks moved down every inch of her body before settling in her clit. Her body tightened in anticipation- just from his finger. Liz can’t scientifically explain what he does to her body. Now all she can think about is jumping him. “You were busy.” Liz shrugged.

Max smirked at her because he knew she was jealous. They stand and stare at each other for a moment. She should have hugged him hello but it seems awkward now. They had been sending each other all these racy texts and he continued to sneak into her room at night. It made her skin hot. Liz excused herself and went to the bathroom to throw some water on her face to cool down. She adjusted her ponytail and applied a fresh coat of clear sparkly lipgloss. When she swung the door open, Max was standing there.

“Took you long enough.” Max stepped into the bathroom with her and locked the door. Liz backed up until her back hit the wall. “Don’t run away from me.”

His eyes searched hers for something and she willed herself to stay still under his gaze. “I wasn’t running. You were occupied and I needed to use the bathroom.” Liz fought the urge to run her hands down his broad chest. If she arched her back at all, she would rub against him.

“I think you were jealous.” Max braces his large arm against her head on the wall. His uniform stretched tight across his bicep.

“Why would I be jealous?” Liz tried for nonchalance but her voice was all breathy.

“Because someone touched your man. Same reason I feel like exploding things when you bat those lashes at customers.” Max admitted with grit in his voice. “I loved that racy picture by the way.”

Liz felt her thighs clench at his admission. “What racy picture?”

“The one of you dressed just like this except this,” Max slowly unbuttoned her top button. “And this” he also unbuttoned the button below it, “Were open. It gave me hours of enjoyment last night.”

Liz squeezed her thighs as his words and touch hit her. Max’s breaths left him in a heavy exhale. Liz tipped her chin up in surrender and Max’s mouth crashed down on hers. As soon as their lips connected, Liz parted hers to welcome his tongue. She also parts her thighs to welcome his leg so she could grind against it. Max’s hand ran up the outside of her thigh, playing with the hem of her skirt while Liz tried to unbuckle his pants.

Max pulled back breathing heavy and the light in the bathroom flickered. “You can’t touch my service revolver, Liz. Even if it’s to take my pants off.”

“Shh. My dad is out there and definitely has a meat cleaver.”

Max paused his unbuckling to blink at Liz. “Actually, that makes it hotter.”

Just as he finally got his belt off and in a pile on the sink, they heard Rosa nearby calling out “Liz?”

Max panicked at the thought of them being discovered and blew out the light in the bathroom. They heard Rosa pause at the sound of the glass shattering, before muttering “Those bitch ass aliens and these bitch ass powers!”

“I think she…” Max started but Liz shushed him by trying to put her hand over his mouth. But it was dark, so she ended up almost getting a finger up his nose. Max licked the palm of her hand and felt her nails tickle down his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt. Max took the hand undressing him and placed it behind her back when she went to push his shirt off. Liz wiped her wet hand on his face so he took that one too. Max clasped her hands together behind her back then tried to drop his chin on top of her head but bonks her instead.

“Dios mio, Max! Ow.” Liz whispered at him then proceeded to bite him through his shirt in protest. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Max released her hands to start sliding her dress up her thighs.

“We have to be quick. And quiet. Okay?” Max whispered.

“Okay.” Liz readily agreed then gasped when she felt his erection between her legs. This was definitely the best time she had ever had in this bathroom. Max slid inside her heat then started pivoting his hips as he lifted her up against the wall. When Liz gasped out loud, he covered her mouth then picked up his speed. Based on the rapid panting against his hand, it wasn’t going to take long. Instead of calling out like she usually did, Liz bit Max’s hand when her orgasm rocked her. Max definitely found the bite stimulating based on the moan he has to hide in the crook of her neck.

When they are finished with their time together, they help each other get dressed from the light coming under the crack in the door. Max kissed her again- hard- then pulled open the door. Max looks left and right checking things out, half expecting to be attacked by her father. When he wasn’t, he sent Liz out ahead of him. Then he counted to 100 and nonchalantly left the bathroom to return to his table.

#rnm echo #dark!Max #echo fic #ficlets? Ficlets?#Apparently this needs another chapter

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tisfan · 6 years

Text

Only a Matter of Time

Name of Piece: Only a Matter of Time Square Filled: T4 - Aliens made them Do It Also on A03 Rating Explicit Warnings: Anal sex, Stephen’s magical lube, angst, captivity, aliens made them do it, sex pollen, discussion of weird mating rituals, crack taken seriously Summary: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Captured by aliens, mistaken for a mating pair, Tony and Stephen find themselves having the universe’s most awkward honeymoon.

Created For : @tonystarkbingo

Tony Stark woke up to at least a half dozen or more different species of alien staring at him. He shrieked, scrambled backward, and had to stop to stare. The brain takes a lot of shortcuts so that we aren’t constantly looking at trees and trying to identify them, so it puts them all in a box marked Tree and lets us sort it out later if we care to.

Tony had never seen these things before, and they were all so vastly different from one another that his brain couldn’t stop picking out the little details.

That one had huge eyes -- or what he thought might have been eyes, he couldn’t really tell, since they didn’t have irises or pupils the way human eyes did, and who knew, maybe they were radar dishes -- in the top of its face. That one had a million little wormy squirmy things on its chin that wriggled in the air around it. He wasn’t even sure that thing -- looked like a crude salt carving of a whale, by someone who didn’t know what a whale looked like, and was tiny, besides -- was alive until it moved away.

“Whaaaaaaaa?” Tony babbled, pushing away until his back fetched up against something solid, which made him scream again and roll the other way. He’d hit something -- a tree, maybe? If Trees were pink, and scaly.

“Good morning,” someone said. “So good of you to join me.”

Tony’s head whipped around so fast he thought he might have given himself whiplash.

Dr. Stephen Strange was floating, a few feet above mauve (moss? Grass? Mushrooms? Jesus Horatio Christ what even the fuck?) ground, wrists resting on his knees, legs crossed.

“Gimme an elevator pitch of what the fuck, would you, Strange?” Tony managed to even sound like he wasn’t panicking -- he had a lot of practice -- but it was probably too late for that.

“So far as I’ve been able to gather?”

God, there was something unfair about the fact that Strange had already had time to compose himself, figure some shit out, and be composedly meditating midair (had Tony mentioned that he hated that?) before Tony woke up. One of these days, he’d like someone else’s dignity to be laying in pieces on the floor.

“Speculations allowed, doctor.”

“Welcome to the Yu!anz Zoo,” Strange said. Tony wasn’t sure how he said that word, which sounded a little like the sorcerer spat up a tiny bomb in the middle. “We’re the new special exhibit. They’ve never had humans before.”

“And you haven’t done your bibbity-bobbity-boo schtick why, exactly?”

“Can’t,” Strange said. “I can sling from one side of the room to the other, but it bounces anything further away. I’m attempting to study the shielding they’ve got on the habitat, but it’s all mirrors. All I can see… is us.”

Tony gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “I thought you were supposed to be the greatest sorcerer in the universe.”

“In the known universe, which is to say, the part that’s known to us,” Stephen said. “Also, I’m still new at the job.” He made a face, a little tip of the eyebrow and mouth that Tony should not have found cute, and did anyway.

“Always made jokes about being a zoo exhibit,” Tony said, looking out at the gawkers. There were entirely new sorts of aliens there, now, staring and pointing and rapping on the glass. “Remind me to not do that again.”

(more under the cut)

There was no way out.

The glass, Tony discovered, wasn’t glass at all. It was some sort of force repelling shield. If he threw a thing at it, it bounced it back with equal force. In fact, one of the few times he even saw their captors, he’d nearly killed them both by throwing something with enough force that the shield bounced it to the back of the enclosure, which in turn, bounced it back. The ricochet effect forced Strange to tackle Tony to the ground and cover them both with the Cloak of Levitation while the damn rock ping ponged around like a deranged kangaroo.

“Well, this is comfy,” Tony said, mostly to cover his embarrassment at fucking up. Hard. And speaking of hard…

“Stop wriggling,” Strange snarled, teeth clenched.

“Seriously, Stephen?” Tony wriggled anyway, mostly because he could, and there wasn’t anything else to do while they were wrapped up tight in Strange’s semi-sentient shoulder-wrap.

“Stark--”

“You are…”

“Shut up and stop moving.”

“You know, I don’t think I will,” Tony remarked, casually, letting his hips rock up into that comforting warmth. “But, I mean, I suppose you could shut me up if that--”

“I hate you,” Stephen said, almost utterly without emotion, which would have been more convincing, probably, except that most decidedly wasn’t Stephen’s wand poking him in the thigh, and then that was absolutely Stephen’s tongue in his mouth.

Who only knew how far that might have gone except their captors entered the habitat and yanked the projectile to a stop. One of them poked at the cocoon that was protecting Tony and Stephen, and the Cloak leapt away, smacking at alien… oh, god, had they just been poked with an alien proboscis? Ew, gross.

Their captors -- or, at least, the aliens that kept the habitat, were like giant, humanoid mosquito/moths, bulby eyes, long curled up nose that whipped out to poke and prod at them. They had thick, feathery antennae and wings that tucked close to their backs, like cloaks. Tony and Stephen found themselves backed into a corner by something impossibly strong and wrong to look at. Literally, staring at the alien hurt Tony’s brain in places it did not want to be hurt.

Every time Tony tried to dodge around the thing, or push it away, it returned him to his corner like a misbehaving child.

Finally, after the other one had cleared out all the rocks, their captor fluttered its wings at them, dusting them both with gray powder.

Tony blinked a few times and slumped to the ground. “F’ink, take… nap, now.”

“Yeah,” Stephen said.

Tony woke up, curled in Stephen’s arms, the cloak tucked around them like a blanket.

“Okay, sunshine, this is just getting weird,” Tony said, but he didn’t bother to move. Stephen was warm and for a guy who sometimes looked like a collection of sticks wrapped in wizard gear, he was soft and comfortable. He ran one hand over his hair, scrubbing at his scalp, and then-- “What is that?”

Stephen sighed and grabbed Tony’s wrist, holding it tightly. “It’s a bio monitor,” he said. “Do not try to pull it out, or scratch at it. You’ll just hurt yourself.”

“Do you have one, too?” Tony didn’t know how Stephen could possibly know that, but the feeling that there was something -- another thing -- inside him that he didn’t ask for filled him made him want to puke, want to dig it out, even if it hurt, even if it killed him, even if…

“Shhh, shh, I know Tony, I know, I’m here, it’s okay. They’ll take it out again, I promise,” Stephen was cradling him, holding him in a warm, comforting grip.

“Do you have one, Stephen?” Tony demanded.

“I don’t. I’m sorry,” Stephen said. The wizard flinched, and Tony realized he was squeezing Stephen’s hands, desperately tight, hurting scars and injuries that would never quite heal.

“Why?”

“Um. They think you’re the female,” Stephen said, slowly.

“What? How do you even know that?” It took him a while to let go of Stephen’s hands anyway, and to not instantly reach for the foreign thing he felt in the back of his skull.

“I’ve been studying them,” Stephen told him. “Their language is really confusing, but I think I have it down, now, at least enough to get the basics. And they think you’re the egg-carrying member of our species.”

“WHY?”

“Well, first of all, you’re a lot smaller than I am,” Stephen said, tipping his head to one side. “Tony--” Stephen pressed a finger to Tony’s lips. “I’m six foot two and a half inches. You’re five eight on your good days. Don’t argue with me, height is fact. They don’t see differences in our facial features.”

“Awesome facial hair bros, yeah,” Tony said.

“But they’re bugs. Big ones, smart ones, but, you know. Insectoid. We don’t… they don’t recognize our primary or secondary sexual characteristics. And I have wings, and you don’t.”

“They think your walking security blanket means you’re a guy? Capes are so gay, Stephen.”

“Well, so am I, so it’s okay,” Stephen said.

Tony tipped his eyebrows. Well, he guessed he’d asked for that. “So, what then? They think I’m female and delicate and I need monitoring?”

“They’re waiting for you to get pregnant.”

“THE FUCK?”

“I mean, I suppose we could tell them you’re well past child-bearing age--”

“Excuse me, Mr. Sorcerer Supremely grey?” Tony spluttered. Was Stephen calling him old?

“Just because some of us don’t like sitting in a salon chair,” Stephen pointed out. He had the actual nerve to flick his fingers through that grey streak on one side of his temple. It should not have been attractive. “Face it, I’m taller, and younger, and I have a cool cloak.”

“You only wish you were as cool as I am,” Tony said. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you. I’m calm. Tell me what the fuck is going here, Stephen, I am begging you.”

If he hadn’t been quite so close, he might not have noticed the way Stephen’s lips parted and his eyes darkened.

“The really important thing is… it won’t take them too long to realize their mistake. And then they’ll trade us out for a proper, reproducing couple,” Stephen said. “Which kinda sucks, but then, we keep dolphins in fish tanks and make them do tricks, so I can’t really criticize too much. And trying to war with them would be a mistake.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I am the sorcerer supreme, even if I am new at the job. And my abilities are fully functional, inside the habitat. So, I’ve been living these next four or five days, learning something new every time. I can… sort of understand their language. It’s complicated, and the writing is horrific. The little antenna on their heads makes it pretty much impossible for us to communicate with them. I don’t even really think they think we’re sentient, at all. Kinda like… we are to bees, they are to us.”

“Are you telling me bees are sentient?”

“Hive mind is a pretty incredible thing, Tony,” Stephen said. “I mean, on an individual level, no, bees aren’t sentient. But a hive of bees… well, they’re pretty damn smart, actually.”

“So, what, we wait until they figure out that we’re both dudes, and, they let us go?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Stephen said.

“How long is that going to take?”

“Couple months,” Stephen said, nodding his entire body back and forth.

“A couple of--”

“Shh. Stop it.”

Tony glared.

“Time stone, Tony,” Stephen told him. “When we get out of here, I’ll just roll us back to a few minutes after we left. No one will even know we were gone. Think of it as… extended leave of absence.”

“I am going to die of boredom in a couple of weeks, Stephen.”

“No, you won’t,” Stephen said, and then he was blushing, and wasn’t that interesting.

“Okay, so what aren’t you telling me?”

“It would take a while to cover all of those things,” Stephen said. “And… really, this day is going really well. If I tell you right now and you freak out, I’m just going to have to start this day over and I’ve already done this one like five hundred and six times already.”

“You do that a lot,” Tony said.

“Yeah. There’s a reason why I’m not sane,” Stephen said, and his chin wobbled a little. “Mostly, I store all the alternative timelines in a memory box.”

“You’re getting very Harry Potter right now.”

“Magic is imagination given form,” Stephen said. “I stole that from Harry Potter because it fucking works. Otherwise, I’d remember dying over seventeen million times, when bargaining for the fate of our dimension, 14 million times dying because of Thanos. No one, no mind, could survive that. I forget. Because I have to. So, if I tell you, you have to not freak out, okay? I need to keep these memories until we get out of here, and you need to help me. Okay?”

Tony couldn’t forget a thing if he tried. Every detail of Afghanistan, every detail was etched in his brain, he relived those moments in his nightmares. He couldn’t imagine what dying hundreds of times must feel like, what sort of burden that had to be. “Stephen…” He nodded. “You can count on me.”

“I know,” Stephen said, and he smiled, sweet as honey. He cupped the side of Tony’s face with one battered, scarred and crooked hand. “I know I can.”

“What is this?” Tony reached into the box that had appeared -- literally, appeared. Their keepers had been feeding them like this for at least a week now, so Tony wasn’t as startled as he was the first time, but this box didn’t contain the food pellets. (By the way, so leaving a bad yelp review. The food there was boring and repetitive, the same three or four round discs about the size of a hamburger patty, although they tasted more like generic, doritos that someone forgot to put the flavor dust on.)

Instead, there were a few… things.

Things that Tony couldn’t identify by looking at.

One of them sort of looked like a ball of string, except the string kept changing color, and he couldn’t quite track where the piece went.

“Enrichment activities,” Stephen said. He was doing the floating thing again. “They think you’re pining.”

“For the Fjords?” Tony wondered. He poked the string and the end of it jerked away from him like he’d insulted it, and dove into the writhing mass. It was like… a puzzle? Tony grabbed for the end, trying to figure out what it did.

The end bit had disappeared, and Tony started hunting for it. Each time he spotted the end and attempted to secure it, he felt a little jolt of satisfaction. Several hours passed before he realized that he had, actually, been entertained with the puzzle. By the time he finally found both ends, he was actually feeling really good. Soft and--

“Stephen, is this thing making me high?”

Stephen glanced up. “It’s stimulating the part of your brain that makes endorphins, so, yes,” Stephen said. “Brace yourself, that’s not all we’re going to be getting tonight.”

Tony barely had time to ask what that meant before he found out. The habitat lights dimmed, cheesy seventies porn music started playing, and the habitat was flooded with the scent of roses, chocolate and… oh, god, steak.

“What are they doing?”

“Trying to get you in the mood to mate,” Stephen confessed. And he was blushing, which was weird because--

Tony’s eyebrows went up. “Trying to get me in the mood,” Tony wondered. “Not us.”

“What little they know about humans comes from some of our television signals,” Stephen pointed out. “In almost all of our media, it’s portrayed that males are always ready, and the females need to be wooed.”

“They should try going to the annual Maria Stark Foundation ball, it’s like a feeding frenzy. I barely escape with my balls intact. I’m still annoyed that they can’t tell the difference between men and women. Some super advanced aliens they’re turning out to be.”

“Give them some credit,” Stephen said. “As far as they know, we could be like snails, and make little love darts to stab each other with in an exchange of sperm.”

“No stabbing,” Tony said. “I draw the line at romantic stabbing.”

“Or… some species of male octopus literally launch their penis at a potential mate,” Stephen said. “The female octopus being notoriously short tempered and apt to eat their mates.”

“There are times when I’ve considered that as an alternative to a messy breakup,” Tony said. “Bees. Bees are a good example of fucked up mating. The male bee explodes, to seal off the queen’s reproductive channels, otherwise, other males could dig out the sperm and mate instead. Talk about your dedicated daddy.”

“Snakes. Female snakes have it particularly bad,” Stephen said. “There’s one species whose mating scent is so strong, it can attract males from over a hundred miles away, and they all pretty much jump her in tandem, a little orgy-ball of fuckery. Female snakes can be, literally, fucked to death.”

“That… sounds more fun than it probably is.”

“Especially for her,” Stephen remarked. “But humans aren’t much better. Human mating habits are weird,” Stephen said. “Almost as weird as the ridiculous premises around it for entertainment. It’s a waste of time.”

“So, you’re a hey, becky, lemme smash kinda guy?”

“Romance may not be dead, but it is frequently unnecessary,” Stephen said. “Most people decide within a few minutes of meeting someone if they’d ever want to have intercourse. The rest of it is needless time wasting. Don’t you?”

“My playboy reputation was always exaggerated, and currently somewhat out of date,” Tony huffed, feeling insulted.

“I don’t mean you always get the sex,” Stephen said. “I mean, you look at someone across the room and think, even for a second, yeah, that one’s nice, I’d do that. Sex is a game of numbers. We’ve developed all this ritual around it, but our base, human biology is satisfied with passing along our genes to the most number of people, as quickly as possible. We like to pretend we’re thinking about it, or choosing to have multiple partners to increase our social standing, but it’s mostly just justification for the chemical stew in our blood stream, the monkey brain that says procreate and survive. It’s irrational, and trying to pretend we’re somehow above that… well, that’s just wishful thinking. Humans, individually and collectively, are a hot mess.”

Damn, that was both sexy and challenging. The sexy past was the way Stephen discussed a one night stand as basic biology, showing off a big, sexy brain. The logical part that always forgot that logic was just a mess of hormones and chemistry. For a doctor, a neurosurgeon, Tony would have expected Stephen to come down on the side of cold logic.

The challenge… “So, Mr. Wizard,” Tony said, as casual as he could manage. “What did you think when you first saw me?”

Stephen laughed, a soft chuckle. “We were a bit preoccupied at the time.”

“That’s dodging the question,” Tony said.

“Seems unfair for you to ask it,” Stephen replied. “What did you think?”

“Buddy, there’s like four people I’ve ever met that I wasn’t related to, that were on my Do Not Fuck, Ever list. Everyone else, I’m open to negotiations,” Tony said, stretching out, full length. “And I’ll tell ya, if they give me that steak that they’re pumping fumes for, I might be willing to fuck you.”

“I suspect they’d be more pleased with the activity if I were to…”

“Bang me like a cheap screen door?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“You get the steak… and some coffee would be great, and you can have the goods.”

“Tony, did that little puzzle go straight to your--”

“Does it matter, doc? You already said they’re not going to let us go until we prove I’m infertile to your wizardly dick. I’m hungry, I’m bored, and I happen to be really fucking horny right now. So, if we gotta do it anyway, let’s just do it.”

“And I thought that I believed romance was dead and unnecessary,” Stephen commented, idly.

“Aw, baby, do you want me to romance you?” Tony was still smirking. His pants were a little uncomfortably tight, and Stephen was looking better to him with every minute. He was pretty familiar with pharmaceuticals, and he knew, mind you, that he’d been hit up with some sort of high end aphrodisiac, but the part of his brain that rarely shut up was spinning it around. It wasn’t like having sex with Stephen would be a hardship. The man was attractive and had been weirdly kind and comforting the whole time they’d been imprisoned, keeping Tony sane and safe.

There was something romantic about it.

Tony eyed the man again, noting the blush and the way Stephen avoided his eyes. “You do… you want me to romance you,” Tony said, the realization coming over him like a tidal wave. “This… you…” Tony made a little circle in the air with one hand. “You care. This matters to you.”

“Of course I care,” Stephen said. “You’ve been living in here with me for… what, two week, in this time line? I’ve… been reliving each day multiple times. In my head, Tony, we’ve known each other for years. Inside two weeks, this has been the longest relationship of my life. Absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder, Tony. Closeness does. I know you better than anyone. Probably better than you know yourself.”

Tony swallowed. Usually people got fed up with him after a few days, and all the money and fame hadn’t been worth it for many. He drove Pepper crazy on a regular basis until she’d finally decided that, much as they loved each other, it wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t be his mother and his girlfriend and his ceo and his personal assistant and his babysitter all at the same time, and he knew he was unfair to ask it of her. How-- “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have we been together? How long have you known?”

Stephen reached out then and touched his cheek. “I’ve loved you since Titan. I didn’t throw all the memories away. I couldn’t.”

Tony turned his face and kissed Stephen’s mangled palm. “Are you going to erase today?”

Stephen was even closer, close enough for Tony to notice that his eyes were actually both blue and green at the same time, close enough to feel the heat seeping off his body. “Do you want me to?”

“No.”

Their lips met in a fevered kiss. Stephen’s mouth was demanding, fierce, a counterpoint to the way his hands moved, hesitant, as if he couldn’t believe he had the right to touch.

Stephen’s hands dragged heated trails down Tony’s skin. He struggled with the fastenings and Tony had to suck air, while he helped. The Cloak of Levitation hovered over them, and Tony was almost imagining that it disapproved, but then it flapped off, giving them some degree of privacy.

Tony laid back on the soft floor of their habitat as Stephen touched and explored, kissed and tasted. His teeth grazed over Tony’s nipple, sending a flush of heat down his spine. Another kiss, this one deeper, longer, slower, a mating of lips and tongues that was profoundly intimate. Sensual. Tony considered himself an expert on kissing; Stephen’s technique might have been somewhat clumsy, but there was an earnestness to it, a sweetness, that had been lacking in many of Tony’s other kisses.

There was no doubting Stephen’s desire, not just for bodies, but that he’d had this secret for so long, and he’d never said anything, he’d never made a big deal out of it. There was something innocent about it, enough that Tony wondered if he was doing Stephen any favors.

“How many times have we done this?”

Stephen rutted against him, pulling him in for another kiss. “Not enough,” he said, mouth brushing over Tony’s with exquisite sensation. “Never enough.”

Tony could believe it had been a lot; Stephen seemed to know without being told where Tony’s most sensitive spots were. That was distinctly unfair, because who would have guessed that Tony would go weak at having the small of his back caressed with light strokes, or a warm mouth licking at the inside of his elbow could get him to moan wantonly.

Also, he didn’t know any of Stephen’s, and had to content himself with being a keen observer and eager enough to explore. Still, Stephen decidedly had the upper hand, and that didn’t even include all the magic stuff, like being able to conjure lube with a quick muttered word, or, at one point, adding extra arms and mouths. Tony had participated in any number of multiple-partner sex adventures previously, but there was something different about having one person touching and kissing him so many times.

Stephen could capture Tony’s mouth, while holding his legs spread wide. The sensation of a hot, wet throat to fuck was vivid and real and intense, but when Tony managed to pry his eyes open to look, there was only a blueish, ghostly impression. He was held down and carressed by multiple hands, while Steve’s own, fragile and thick-fingered and trembling, touched Tony’s face, brushed through his hair.

“And I thought I had good tricks,” Tony said, and then, because everything was a contest, as far as Tony was concerned, and he had to score some points, he took Stephen’s hand, the real, flesh one, and drew his index and middle fingers into his mouth, sucking them lightly.

All of Stephen’s boojums disappeared at once, and they settled back onto the ground with a bump -- when had Stephen started levitating them, Tony would have thought he would have noticed that?

“What? Off limits?” Tony took his mouth off Stephen’s hand, but kept it cradled between his own. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Stephen said. “No, it doesn’t, well, yes, it hurts, but my hands always hurt, it’s not anything particular that you’re doing. I’m just--”

“Not used to people touching anymore, I get it,” Tony said. He ran his thumbs across Stephen’s palm, stretching a little at the scars there. “You are so beautiful.”

Stephen did start tugging at his hands, then, the fingers curling up defensively. “I used to be,” he said. “A surgeon’s hands.”

“You’re not ugly because of your scars, Stephen,” Tony told him. “Scars are… the roadmap of our lives. They tell people what we’ve suffered. The worst ones are the ones we can’t see, that we carry here--” he tapped his own chest, covered and matted with ropy scars from where the arc-reactor had been. “But you still have beautiful hands, Stephen.”

Stephen sucked in a breath. “I have known you for thirty million lifetimes, and you still surprise me, Tony, with the depths of your compassion.”

“It should,” Tony told him with a wink. “Given that I’m not supposed to have any, at all.” It was rare that he would take any such conversations about his good points seriously; Howard had spent a lifetime pointing out all of Tony’s mistakes to the point where Tony owned everything, presented it all up front in his showman manner. If he presented his heart, already bleeding, it was rare the person who would continue to stab. Not unheard of, but rare. There were always people who needed to score points by making someone else feel small. There was something unsatisfying to a critic to be answered with “yes, I know” when they’d taken such efforts to craft an insult. It was petty, but Tony would admit to being petty. Tony knew how to deal with insults; he had a long list of character flaws.

What he didn’t know how to deal with was sincerity and compliments. Compliments themselves were easy; everyone who ever wanted something from him would shower him with whatever they thought he wanted to hear.

But the combination of knowing that there was nothing Stephen wanted from him, and that he was perfectly in earnest. Well, that was harder to hear.

The two of them stared at each other, a long moment, gauging the other’s emotional state, the depth of sincerity, and then, “I think if I don’t kiss you right now, I might die from it.”

“Drama queen,” Tony accused, fondly.

“Drama wizard,” Stephen corrected, and then they were kissing again, a desperate, greedy, clinging sort of kiss to say everything with bodies and lips and tongues that they didn’t know how to say with actual words.

Stephen stroked Tony’s cock a few times, this time with his own hand, not playing with magic tricks and distractions, but just loving him.

Tony arched into it, moaning. “Please,” he said, breathless, running his own hands down every bit of pale skin he could reach until he ended with his hands firmly on Stephen’s ass, pulling them together, feeling the slick rut as their cocks aligned and glided together and it was the best tease, the best feeling.

He hooked his legs around Stephen’s thighs and the friction for even better, the heat between them growing. And the whole while, Stephen kept kissing him, kept returning to his mouth as if to hone his skill, to taste and know and breathe in every bit of Tony that he could get.

He didn’t stop kissing even when he was pushing at the opening to Tony’s body, getting him ready -- Tony could forgive him for the magic lube, because that shit was amazing -- even if it did get a bit sloppy. Tony loved it. Wet, heated, open-mouthed kissing, tongues that slid together and then apart. Little nips along his lip. A smear of dampness across his cheek and chin, and all the while, Stephen was breathing harder and making these delicious little sounds.

“Are you sure?” Stephen asked, still working Tony open with one hand.

“Stephen,” Tony said, touching his face, his cheek, that adorable little beard, running a thumb over Stephen’s lip. “I want you with every fiber of my being, you cannot get more enthusiastic consent than this. Give it to me.”

Stephen pressed against the ring of muscle and then, slowly, slid in. Tony shifted, threw his head back, struggled for a moment to relax. Stephen’s cock was lovely, long and slender and somehow as graceful as the man himself. He heard a sharp gasp of pleasure and realized it was his own, before Stephen started to move in him, on him, over him. Stephen’s mouth opened, as if to catch the gasp, and those obscenely beautiful lips fluttered over Tony’s in a soft, ghosting kiss.

Something about that tenderness got Tony even hotter. He grabbed a handful of Stephen’s ass and impaled himself on that gorgeous cock. Everything about the wizard was so much more than Tony had expected, he had to breath, deep and steady, a few times, to regain some equilibrium.

The push and pull of lovemaking was organic, natural, the way his body always urged him to move and grip, to roll his hips and to show his throat. The way his hands would grasp the blankets to hold himself down. All the same, all the way it always was.

And yet, at the same time, so new and fresh that Tony’s very skin ached, that he felt like a snake, peeling its scales and showing something new and shiny underneath.

Stephen alternated, deep, heavy thrusts and slow slides and quick, shallow movements, until they found themselves in the best possible rhythm, in which their heart beats and breaths aligned, until they were lost in each other’s gazes, until the world vanished and everything was feeling and sensation and love.

Stephen seemed to be everywhere around him, touching his hair, kissing his throat, gripping his ass to bring him closer.

Their bodies were heated, slick, and Tony could no longer tell where he ended and Stephen began. He stretched, reaching for his pleasure, wanting it, wanting to feel himself clench down on Stephen’s glorious dick, and then--

“Oh!” he rocked, taking as much of Stephen as he could and…

“Tony!”

When it was over, Tony found himself chasing his breath, Stephen a warm, heated weight on top of him, not quite crushing him into the ground, but close. It should have been suffocating, but it wasn’t. He kept his leg hooked around Stephen’s back, not wanting to let go, wanting to stay there, locked together. They lay there for a long while until their pulses slowed and the world came back into focus around them.

Tony had never really had a vacation before. Not a nice, long one. Even when he’d tried vacationing before, he always found himself working, or fretting because he wasn’t working. Stephen’s reassurances that they wouldn’t lose any real time, in their real lives, made the whole thing feel just a little surreal.

“You sure you should use the time stone for something this frivolous?”

“Don’t make the same mistake Thanos did, Tony, of believing the time stones are only tools. They have their own agenda, their own purpose. There is a price to pay, the further off its path you take it. For now, the Time Stone and I walk the same road, and it helps me, as it can. I will know, when it is right to give it up.”

“You’re saying the time stone wants you to enjoy your honeymoon?”

They didn’t discuss much else that day, since Stephen decided to take Tony at his word, and they were soon too breathless and sweaty for deep conversation.

But there were days of conversation, while Tony learned the theory of sorcerery, and Stephen learned the basics of particle physics. They told each other stories of their not-entirely-dissimilar childhoods. Stephen reminisce about his medical residency, and Tony laughed through old tales from MIT and the trouble he and Rhodey used to get into.

Their keepers provided them with food -- and eventually, better food, which was nice, although, really, what sort of universe didn’t have coffee -- and enrichment activities, and all the comforts they really could want.

“I’m going to get spoiled and fat,” Tony was saying one night, laying with his head in Stephen’s lap while they explored the nearby stars with one of the enrichment devices. Looking at other planets and moons from the relative safety of the zoo was somehow pleasing.

It did still bother Tony that he wasn’t free, that he couldn’t just make a choice and leave, but it was comfortable captivity, and Tony needed it. He needed this little oasis of time and peace.

“You deserve to be spoiled,” Stephen told him.

He woke early to the sounds of muffled sobs.

“What? What, Stephen, what’s wrong?” Tony was there, his hands on his lover.

“We’re leaving today, and I knew it would be soon, but--” The cloak was nudging at Stephen’s face and Stephen absently brushed it away. “Stop that.”

“It’s all right, though?” Tony asked, not really sure what he was asking. “We’re going to go home and everything--” He swallowed around a lump in his throat, the size of a tennis ball. “--you’re not going to let me remember. Is that the plan, Stephen, because I… I did not agree to this plan!”

“You have your life, Tony, back on earth, this was-- I’ll treasure this, but--”

“Don’t you fucking let go of me, you goddamn coward,” Tony spat. “What do you think this has been for me? A lark? Goddamnit, Strange, I love you. Don’t take that from me. Don’t steal this. Even if-- if you’re done with me, I don’t want to forget it.”

Stephen reached out one battered hand and caught the tears spilling from Tony’s eyelashes.

“Tony?”

“Did… I forget to tell you I loved you?”

“You did.”

“Well, don’t worry,” Tony said. “I will.”

“Tell me now.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll… okay, change of plans. We’re still leaving. But--”

“You keep me with you, right? I don’t want to forget this.”

“Okay. Okay, Tony. I’m sorry.”

“Damn well better be. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you, you idiot.”

“Tell me again why I love you?” Stephen was laughing, his blue-green eyes bright.

“Because I’m awesome, and you have good taste,” Tony said. “And you know me better than I know myself, and yet, you still fail to recognize that I might love you back. Seriously, Stephen, why give me such relationship gold? I’m going to be mining that for years.”

Stephen smiled. “Yeah, yeah, you are.”

#tonystarkbingo #tonystarkbingo2018 #bingo fill #IronStrange #aliens made them do it

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dandelion-san · 7 years

Text

Close Encounters of the Third Kind

Fandom: Yuri on Ice tags: humor, friendship, alternate universe, implied murder summary: While disposing of a corpse, an alien crashlands into Yuuri. (or the one where Yuuri is an assassin, Phichit is an alien and now his roommate, and Victor is the very ordinary bartender who is in love with Yuuri and is also his neighbor) notes: how many genres and tropes can I fit into one series? Answer: a lot. (warning for probable job inaccuracies?)

–

Yuuri is just taking a break from dragging the two hundred pound corpse from his car to the woods when the world suddenly turns bright and a high-pitched ringing sound makes itself known. He covers his ears by reflex and quickly squeezes his eyes shut, taken so off-guard that he is half-delirious in both pain and panic.

But as soon as it came, the ringing stops and the light seems to fade away from behind his closed eyelids.

Before he can tentatively open them, something heavy crashes into his body and sends him to the ground.

“OW,” says a young voice.

Yuuri’s eyes snaps open. He blinks rapidly at first, clearing away blurriness and the black spots appearing in his vison, but the first thing he sees is the starry sky.

…Actually no.

The first thing he sees is smoke and fumes coming out of a very large saucer-shaped ship that is currently crashed into some trees just up ahead. That – that is – something with a size of that magnitude – how could he have missed – what?

No, seriously. What?

Very slowly, he turns his head.

There is a boy who looks just a little younger than Yuuri himself (NOT AN ALIEN, his brain says in Denial) lying next to him, eyes closed, curled up in fetal position and rubbing a bump on his head. His hair is in a funny bowl-cut that is currently sticking out with leaves and sticks and there’s dirt on his face. There are two antennas sticking out from his hair that is curling and uncurling (NOPE, his brain continues to say). Obviously a physical deformation, of course. Obviously.

Yuuri swallows thickly.

The boy opens his eyes finally, dark brown mirroring Yuuri’s own. The boy blinks, a reflection of his previous actions.

The boy grins sheepishly. “WHAT’S UP, DUDE,” he says. “I COME IN PEACE. THERE IS NO NEED TO TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER.” He sticks his hand out in an oddly familiar gesture, palms flat with his ring and pinky sticking together and out from the others to make a ‘V’.

Yuuri, eyes wide, asks, “Can you, please, not shout?”

“SORRY,” the boy says. Then, “sorry. Is this better?” He gains a look of satisfaction at Yuuri’s whimper and then starts stretching his limbs out. “Wow, this is great! What a lucky night it is for me!” He laughs loudly and then rolls over to his other side, startling when he nudges the target’s body. “Hm, and what about you? Sorry about the landing, dude. Didn’t mean to land on top of you two. My name’s Phichit, by the way.”

Yuuri stares at the sky, refusing to look at the giant, smoking ship, or the Not-Alien talking to the corpse of his last target.

“Not a talkative one, are ya?” Then the boy pauses.

It is a long pause.

“Oh my dear stars, I killed an Earthling!”

–

Yuuri has never had a conversation on this end before so he’s quite a bit out of his depth. But he’s trying his best, repeating what Mari used to do for him during his crying-sessions, and he’s not doing too badly if he does say so himself.

“Come on now, just breathe,” he says in a croon, rubbing the Not-Alien’s back. They are currently sitting upright together while the boy has his knees up and currently sobbing into them. He is so distraught that everything about him looks like it’s drooping, like his antennas which are hanging low over his ears like a sad puppy. “Yup, there you go. Just let it all out. You’re doing so well, buddy.” The tears are glowing a bright blue. Yuuri refuses to acknowledge this.

Phichit says, hysterically, “I’m so – sooo sorry, I didn’t mean to k-k-kill your friieeeend.” He can barely even get the sentence out and wails out the last word.

“No, no, no you didn’t!” Yuuri is quick to reassure him. “See, he was already dead. And he wasn’t my friend,” he adds.

The tears are actually starting to stain his shirt. Not that it is glowing, or anything.

Yuuri gently tilts Phichit’s head up with one hand. “It wasn’t your fault, I promise. Okay?” He gently pats his head with his other. “There you go. Shh, shhhh.” Thankfully, Phichit is visibly calming.

He peers up at him with watery eyes. There are two rings in his irises. “R-really?” He hiccups.

“Oh yeah,” says Yuuri. “He was definitely already deader than dead.” He smiles a little, fondly reminiscing his little adventure from that afternoon. It was such a challenge trying to get into the target’s office. The mercenaries were a bit of an obstacle, of course, but nothing that he couldn’t handle.

Phichit is staring at him in wide horrified realization. “Oh kriff.” He scrambles away, pointing a finger at him and shrieking, antennas standing straight up. “You! You killed him!”

Yuuri puts his hands up and slowly stands. He sweats. “Come on, buddy, uh – Phichit –“

“Back off!” Phichit hits the trunk of a tree. “They warned me about this! Earthlings are crazy, war-mongering people! I mean, what kind of species chooses to live on a Class F-designated planet that you people named after DIRT.”

Yuuri sighs. “Oh boy.”

He hopes he doesn’t have to kill this one.

–

“Twooooooooo Piña Coladas, please. One tab!”

The bartender, to his credit, just widens his eyes at both of their appearances – Yuuri, who is wearing a muddy and blood stained trench-coat over a skin-tight black jumpsuit with leaves and dirt in his hair, and Phichit who is Phichit. They both reek of alcohol.

(He mostly just widens his eyes at Yuuri. His breath catches in his throat. BA-THUMP, screams his heart, while his mind screams ohmygodit’shimwhatishedoingherehe’sadorableaseverIhopethat’snothisboyfriend.)

“Dun listen to ‘im, he’s a murderer,” Phichit slurs. His eyes reflect oddly in the dim lighting of the bar, like a cat’s. His antennas are wriggling.

“Imma good murderer,” Yuuri grumbles. He shoves a hand over Phichit’s mouth. “Shh, listen. Listen! Imma good guy and the dead man was not a nice man which is why he’s dead!” He shoves his other hand over Phichit’s head. “Stop movin’!”

“I canna help it!” wails Phichit. “I canna control ‘em!”

Yuuri giggles, letting go of Phichit to cover his face. The bartender, whose nametag reads VICTOR, shoves two cups at both of them.

“Here are your Piña Coladas,” he tells Yuuri. Yuuri wonders why his voice sounds so deep and why the bartender is smiling at him like this. He squints at him.

“Ya look kinda… familiar…”

The bartender gives a sparkly grin, and pulls at his tie. “D-do I?” He looks pleased.

They both get cut off from this line of conversation as Phichit spits his drink out. “GROSS,” he howls. He tears up, his eyes gaining a wet blue shine. “What’s happenin’ ta me? What didja do ta me? Who are ya? Who am I?”

Yuuri is not listening. He quickly downs his drink, wiping off his lips with the back of his hand when he’s done.

He strips off his gloves. Then his coat. Then he turns to the bartender and gives him a saucy wink.

“Wanna see my guns?” he purrs. “Victor.”

The bartender looks around wildly, but most of his customers are not paying attention to them as they are too busy wallowing in their own lives. There are a couple drunken people who are staring at them, but they are mostly staring at Phichit. “Um,” he says. His face is so pink that it looks like it’s glowing. He turns back to Yuuri and swallows thickly.

Yuuri licks his lips and stands up. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly raises his leg up and places it on the counter. He reaches down to the holster that is wrapped around his thighs.

“Oh,” the bartender says weakly. “You mean guns, literally.” He’s staring at Yuuri’s legs now, visibly sweating. (He misses the fact that there is something very obviously illegal going on his bar and instead feels a hint of disappointment.)

“Mmmhmm.” Yuuri pulls out a black handgun. “Beretta 90Two,” he says dreamily. He sets it down on the counter. Then he puts his leg down and starts to strip out of his jumpsuit.

–

“Oh my god,” Yuuri whispers the next day, after vomiting three times in the toilet. Phichit is snoring somewhere on his bedroom floor, covered in glitter and lipstick stains. Yuuri stares at him for a while and then sighs.

Okay, yeah. So aliens are real and now there’s one in his apartment. Whatever, what’s an alien compared to the time he slipped into Guantanamo Bay for a mission? Or the time he was caught in a power struggle between two mafia groups and Interpol? Or even the time he was kidnapped by a megalomaniac and had to pole-dance his way out? Now that was wild.

Besides, there are more pressing matters to attend to. So Yuuri cleans himself up as best as he can. He throws on some clean clothes and takes off his contacts, which feel like they have been crusted to his eyes. After grabbing his glasses, he walks outside and across the hallway and contemplates death.

He knocks instead.

A dog barks somewhere on the other side and then someone curses – there’s a crashing noise. A few minutes tick by with Yuuri growing ever more concerned, when the door finally opens, revealing his neighbor whose eyes are bloodshot and hair in a wild disarray. He’s still wearing his bartending uniform, only now it’s stained in various places.

“Hey Victor,” Yuuri says. “I am so sorry about what happened last night.”

Victor shuts the door in his face.

Yuuri stands there, stunned, as he hears what sounds like muffled screaming, but then the door opens again.

Victor leans against the frame, casually. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with a mega-watt smile. “It was fun!”

Yuuri doesn’t really know what to say. He still kinda wants to go die in some ditch after humiliating himself in front of his attractive neighbor last night, but also because he may have outed himself and he really really really does not want to kill Victor, who is constantly running out of flour, sugar, or other miscellaneous baking/cooking ingredients. Yuuri has yet to taste a single non-alcoholic creation of Victor’s and Victor owes him after two years of begging off some sort of ingredient from him.

(Yuuri does not think about other reasons he may not want to kill Victor)

“Do you want to come over for breakfast?” he says instead and then blushes.

Victor brightens. “Yes!” he shouts and then coughs. “I mean, yes.”

–

Phichit – whose skin is now green, like actually green – runs into the kitchen where Yuuri has just finished making oatmeal and eggs.

“Everything hurts,” he warbles.

Yuuri sighs and shoves a glass of water at him. “Drink. Drink it all. Then go lie down.”

“Ugh.” He wobbles to the couch and collapses, sobbing of “war-mongering dirt people.” His antennas sway back and forth soothingly.

Victor, eyes wide, starts to yell.

–

Well, if Victor has finally noticed that there is something just a little different about Phichit, then Yuuri figures he’s probably safe for now.

#mywriting #yuri on ice #yoi #writing yoi

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