#I even made TWO so that I could provide one with frosting and one without

[anavar-immela]

why did I spend two and a half hours making cakes just for other people to eat on my birthday?

because there's the slightest chance of a manager bringing in another cake and I'll be damned if I'm going to let a generic grocery store cake dominate the table on my day. good luck enjoying that junk when there's delicious chocolate miracle whip cake over here.

[batsythoughts]

hiii, can we have a second part for the yandere! bruce with baby trapping 🥹 maybe some pregnancy kink

Of course you all can! I'm always willing to do continuations of any works I do or requests if you all ask nicely and I feel comfortable with it! And sorry this took so long to write. A lot of family stuff came up and I needed to take a step back for a while.

Part 2 of Yandere! Bruce Wayne and baby trapping!

As stated in the request, there is smut under the cut. Minors please do not interact with the post.

It had barely been a week since Bruce and you found out you were pregnant

Alfred had been discreetly informed so he could go buy your prenatal vitamins without any of the kids finding out

You all had agreed to do a reveal to them fairly quickly so they didn't find out themselves by accident

After some consideration, the both of you decided on a cake with a simple message

Bruce even got you to agree to let the message say 'It wasn't Jason'

"It's a bet the kids have on who would have a baby next. It's a family joke we have that's been going on."

You simply smiled at the explanation while saying it was okay as long as it was in a certain color

The next night a dinner, before anyone could get up from the table, Bruce said that Alfred made a special dessert for everyone

They all looked at one another in confusion as they tried to think of what the occasion was for a 'special dessert' to be made

When Alfred came in and set the cake in the center of the table, the kids stared at the written frosting with blank expressions

Jason was the first to react while throwing his hands up with a cheer

Dick started out with a huge grin before his eyes widen as he stared at Jason with disbelief all over his face

Tim and Damian shared a look for a moment before giving their congratulations

Cass smiled while looking between you and Bruce while asking multiple questions regarding the baby

Bruce smiled at the sight of all the people he loved celebrating the surprise of a new addition to the family

He gently took your hand in his while watching you happily eating the slice of cake Alfred cut for you

The first trimester was definitely interesting for the whole family with the random nausea, food cravings, and mood swings

Everyone worked together to help you deal with it as best as they were able to

Got a craving for something in the middle of the night that's not in the manor? Alfred told everyone and now Red Hood is in the store grabbing two of everything.

Your back hurting a little after getting off work? Tim has the heating pad on the couch for you as Cass gets a scented bath bomb that you might like so you can relax after dinner.

Randomly started crying? Dick and Alfred both stand nearby to hear you let out cries of whatever caused it

Damian would even offer to make you drinks that he had been taught were beneficial to both you and the fetus

Bruce was pleased that they were being so accepting of the situation instead of thinking you had been the one to cause the situation

The best thing though was a weekly ritual that only Bruce got to be apart of

An hour before he would go on patrol every Friday, you both would sit on the bed as his hands lightly caressed your stomach to carefully feel your body change over time

Even in the beginning when there wasn't anything to feel, Bruce enjoyed reliving the fact that he had gotten you pregnant successfully to keep you around

But he was still felt like you could do a bit more to be committed to the family

He wanted you to quit your job so you could be focused on him, the kids, and the baby with all your energy

Besides, he had more than enough money that you wouldn't have to worry about providing for yourself ever again

At first Bruce suggested going part time so you weren't straining your body too much while the baby was developing

You were hesitant at first, but relented and said you would ask your boss if it would be possible

It wasn't entirely what he wanted, it was just the start until you gave birth

You were beginning to tell the difference in your body after the two month mark with a slight firmness in your stomach

Bruce felt ecstatic as the days got closer to your due date

He did become concerned about the fact that you were showing a bit more than what was normal with all that he read

He even brought it up with the doctor at one of your appointments to ask if everything was alright

As they got the machine ready for the ultrasound, the doctor and nurse assured Bruce that everything should be alright with your hormone levels

The doctor began asking questions on how you were feeling and any issues you were experiencing

As they moved the wand over your stomach, the nurse stopped to look at the screen with a concerned look before her expression shifted to surprise

You became worried while asking what was wrong as the doctor focused on the screen before she got a similar look

"There's, um... there's two."

The screen was turned to face you both better as she pointed out the very close, but individual little blobs

You and Bruce stare in shock before you squeeze his hand with a soft coo

The doctor made sure to give you plenty of copies of the pictures before you left and made the next appointment

Bruce felt proud that you were giving him not one, but two children that would bind you to him for the rest of your lives

You told everyone that evening the news and they were thrilled by the prospect as well

Bruce had even signed up for a 'Baby and Me' class that meet up weekly

Of course that meant that everyone went and sat around you to retain any and all information that was being said to the class

A few of the other participants were judgemental and would whisper about how it should only be the expecting mother and father in the class

All the kids were quick to speak up and shut that down real quick with the woman who started it

"Wow Debra, that's really great advice. I'm sure your husband is proud of how outspoken you are."

"Speaking of husbands, where's your husband Debra?"

"Oh, he's working late like he always does? He must be worried about providing for you and the baby."

"I'm sure it's a very happy and loving marriage you have with him."

"But how long will it last, Debra?"

You quickly told the kids to behave while Bruce held back his smirk as the class finally began

Everyone paid attention to everything that was told, even asking questions about how to assist you through the whole process

Bruce was very proud of all his kids for being so willing to learn along with you during this stage in your life

As the weeks passed, the twins were growing healthy and making themselves known to the world

Their kicks profound enough that Bruce could sit on the other side of the couch and see the bumps they would make

He loved it most went you put headphones on your stomach while playing a small list of songs you made for the twins

"They can feel the vibrations! It is proven to be beneficial for development."

He only smiled while kissing the side of your head

Bruce had even made sure to have the baby room ready for the birth long before they were due

It did take a bit more time to keep the room neutral with the fact it was agreed to be a surprise of what you were having

But he made it work terrifically for whatever combination of twins you were carrying

With the help of Dick and Jason, of course. They refused to let Bruce try to put together the cribs and changing table that would hold their little siblings

It was always so adorable how you would go in to see the progress and coo at how everything was coming along

You of course gave an opinion on where you wanted things to go and the boys would move them without question or complaint

There was already two dressers full of baby clothes that all of them had picked out when going out shopping for any reason

Bruce adored it most that you had gotten a few maternity dresses that were elegant enough to wear to any galas he would attend

The looks that you would get from most of the people there didn't bother him

Despite the different reasons for the stares, he felt proud of the fact that everyone knew that you would always be his no matter who would try to change it

It became even better when he got a message from Alfred one day saying you had returned to the manor not long after you had went to work one day

He was worried when he finally returned that night to find you sulking in your shared room eating a bowl of fruit while wrapped in multiple blankets

Bruce hated the sight of you upset, but he hated that you seemed to be purposely hiding away the bump he was loving more every day

He sat down beside you as he waited for you to tell him what had happened at your job that morning

It took a few minutes before you finally mumbled out that you had impulsively quit your job

While he felt overjoyed, Bruce played the part of being concerned while asking what had occurred to cause it

You took another bite of your fruit while leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder

"One of the guys put his hand on the upper part of my stomach despite me telling them all not to do that. Then he asked me if... if my milk had come in."

Bruce clenched his jaw before apologizing for what happened, but gentle assured you that everything would be okay with him still providing for all of you

It took a few minutes of Bruce reassuring you that your actions were valid to preserve your self respect from the unsavory coworker you had

You gave a weak nod after a couple minutes before leaning further against for comfort

He held you to his chest while softly kissing your head and whispering affirmations to lift your spirits

That evening everyone noticed that you were feeling upset, but didn't push for an explanation so you could tell them if you felt comfortable

You gave a tired smile to the whole table while saying it was just a bad day at work and they shouldn't worry themselves

They all let you have a quiet night without arguments over anything until they went down to the cave to get ready for patrol

Bruce watched you prepare for bed with worry as you absent-mindedly went through your routine without a word

Before you could get into the bed, Bruce gently lead you over to the full length mirror he got for you that stood in one corner

He stood behind you as he rested his hands at the swell of your stomach while swaying back and forth

He placed kisses along your neck as his fingers danced over the bump while whispering against your skin

"You're such a good momma." "Doing your best for them already." "Providing me with the greatest gift."

Bruce continued with his praise as he watched the reflection until you finally cracked a smile

He carefully turned you around before connecting his lips to yours before guiding you over to the bed

He made sure you were completely settled in for the night before giving you a kiss and promising to return safely

The night had went by with only a few attempted muggings and a failed robbery of a gas station before the whole family returned

Bruce took a shower in the locker room and changed like every night so you wouldn't wake up from the noise

Bruce had tried to remain as quiet to not disturb you as he entered the room, but he saw that you were turning around under the comforter with soft whines

He thought you were just having a weird dream until you pushed up from the bed with a groan before meeting his gaze

He almost asked what was wrong as he walked towards the bed, but the words didn't need to be said with the way you bite your lip to keep back a pout

Now, you and Bruce had sex a few times since the pregnancy had started, but after you began showing he didn't want to potentially cause you any discomfort

He wouldn't deny the fact that he thought you were beautiful during the day doing any little thing

However, staring at you in the his bed with the light of the moon streaming in through the window and accentuating your features while one of the straps of your nightgown sliding of as you give him that pleading look

Bruce couldn't get in the bed quick enough after taking a moment to admire how breathtaking you were in that moment

He gently pushed you back to lay down on the mattress before lifting up the lower part of your sleepwear

He couldn't bother to remove your underwear as he pulled it to the side and immediately latched onto your clit

The startled moan you let out was a melody Bruce never wanted to forget as he passionately worked his tongue over the small nub

Wasting no time, he moved one hand to rest on your hip while the other went to prepare you

You laced your fingers in his hair the moment he pushed a finger into you for the first time in months

He slowly moved his hand as he listened to the way your breath hitched with each whine you gave before pushing a second finger in

He had only been at it for a minute before you gave a small cry and came undone by his fingers and tongue

Bruce smiled to himself as he worked you through the spasms before trailing kisses up your stomach, leaving a few attentive one underneath your breasts, until finally reaching your mouth

He didn't even give you time to protest the kiss as his abdomen pressed against you while lining up at your entrance

He made sure to go slow as he felt you shake slightly under him with your nails softly digging into his back

He kept his thrusts shallow as he pulled away to watched your expression as you let out small whines of pleasure

He moved one hand to rest on the side of your stomach as the other held your chin to keep you looking at him

He groaned at the way you tightened around him as he felt a small kick come from your lower stomach

He sweetly kissed you again before pulling away enough to speak with a smirk spread across his face

"Oh, aren't you just a beautiful momma?" "Still able to take me so well after so long." "I should just keep you like this for the rest of our lives."

Bruce gave a small laugh at the last thought as he gave one final thrust before you tightened around his cock

He almost let a small taunt out about you enjoying the idea of him already keeping you there, but just smiled as he trailed a finger over your cheek

It didn't take much longer for Bruce to find his own release with a deep groan

He waited a moment before pulling out and going to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth

He affectionately shook his head when he saw you had already fallen back to sleep with a calm grin on your face

He gently wiped the mess between you thighs away before tracing his fingers over you stomach for a a few moments

He quickly got rid of the cloth before putting on a fresh pair of boxers and slipping under the covers

Bruce moved his arms around you while laying down to get a few hours sleep himself

The next couple weeks, Bruce made sure to shower you with as much affection as he thought you deserved

You and the others simply assumed it was because you were steadily getting closer to your due date

But he did it to help build the emotional vulnerability you would ultimately go through after giving birth

He knew you would go through a strong surge of hormones that would cause you to rely on him even more

It all going to be for the best in the end because Bruce just needs you to realize how much he truly loves you and will always be there for you

What better way is there to convince someone to agree to marry you?

Bruce already had a ring picked out and the speech he would give on what each of the kids would do to be included in the wedding

He would still have you pick out all the important things that you wanted like the flowers, dress, location and every other aspect you wanted

But he had to be patient until after the twins had been born for at least a few months before asking you

But to get you to be apart of the family more than you already were? Oh, Bruce was nothing but determined.

[humanityinahandbag]

Steddie: Sticker Fic (Part 1)

“Hey, Munson?” Eddie turned and Steve was there, in his space, leaning forward until Eddie was pressed back into the kitchen island. He could smell Steve’s cologne, could see the moles and freckles across his face, could taste the air around him, like honey and butter and frosting. And then Steve reached out and pressed his fingers to Eddie’s chest, drawing back just as quickly, leaving Eddie’s skin warm and tingling. He’d also left something else on Eddie’s shirt. He barely registered what had happened until he was sitting back down, and Dustin's eyes were on him along with the rest of the kids. "No fair!" Dustin pointed, scowling at Eddie's shirt. "How come you got that one!" "Uh," said Eddie and looked down. I Did an Amooooozing Job Today! said a cow in a cowboy hat.

Eddie Munson was doing his best to push down his absolutely tragic crush on Steve Harrington. He'd been doing a pretty good job of it, too.

And then Steve brought out the goddamn stickers.

(or: Steve flirts using stickers. The kids go feral for them. Puns are everywhere and they are terrible. And Eddie is losing his goddamned mind.)

-

The first sticker appeared on a Tuesday.

Hellfire Club had been tentatively invited back into the school as a sort of withering olive branch, most of the school officials and adults shamefaced about the whole almost killing a kid in a jock-led Satanic Panic Mob thing. They’d put on their best faces and tried to appeal to Eddie’s mercy (even Principal Higgins had swallowed down his repulsion to say mistakes were made). 

But in the end it hadn't made much of a difference, and Eddie Munson got to watch each and every one of their faces fall deeper into sticky guilt when he said “no thank you”. 

It wasn't easy. Hellfire had been held in the back of the theater room since he'd started the club. Through bullies, black eyes, and the burning stares of teachers, that room had given Hawkins High at least one space he could be himself without apology. Without danger of being called a fag. Of being too slow to dodge a punch.

It was him, his friends, the stories they crafted.

And giving it up was like leaving a piece of himself behind.

But the fumbled apologies from adults (who should have known better, who'd never liked him, who'd been completely okay throwing words and stones and demanding his head, who suddenly looked to him to absolve their sins) made him feel skeevy. The guilt was warranted, but as his Uncle firmly told him it wasn’t his job to make a bunch of no-good-kid-hunting adults feel better.

"You ain't their priest, son. If they can hunt my boy so easily, then they shouldn't have any problems hunting down someone to listen to their goddamn confession, too."

Eddie had the scars along his body, a chunk of flesh eaten from his thigh, and a missing left nipple to show for their mistake . He had nightmares and flashbacks and nights where he woke up in a cold sweat expecting to see a mob outside his window shouting vile, obscene words to cut him deep or vines crawling across his ceiling to cut him even deeper. 

So he’d said no, even if it meant he might have needed to give up one of his most sacred spaces in the world. 

And then Steve Harrington (with his perfect smile and whiskey eyes and warm touch) had stepped in and said, “why don’t you just have Hellfire at my house?” and that was that. 

Steve Harrington's house provided safety, a giant ass dining room table, from-scratch cookies and cakes that Steve insisted on baking each and every time they met. 

It also provided Steve, who was wonderful and sweet and kind and-

And.

And.

And whatever the reason (that Eddie was definitely not avoiding, not at all), it was enough for Eddie to wind up at the head of Steve's dining room table, leering at the small group from behind his screen.

It was snickerdoodle that day; Jeff's favorite. Eddie had already put back two and was happily considering a third. The rest of Hellfire looked like they were regretting eating any as Eddie hunched forward in the ridiculous oak dining chair. Dustin was green in the face, staring down at his miniature like he might as well have dug a tiny grave right then and there.

"You arrive at a door." Eddie steepled his fingers, resting his chin against the points. "Ancient symbols are carved throughout. Runes from another time, another place." 

"Shit," Gareth murmured. "God, not another fucking door."

"Your only other escape is through the tunnels where you came, but you can already hear the Orc armies clashing their way through. What do you do, oh mighty heroes?"

"We're fucked." Dustin threw up his hands, pressing the heels against his eyes. "Oh Jesus we're so fucked."

"We're not fucked!" Lucas said, even if his face said otherwise. "We need- shit, we need a strategy! Will-?"

"I'm barely hanging on!" Will stared down at his character sheet, scribbling notes down furiously. "We could do an observation check-"

Dustin groaned. "We don't have time for that!" 

"Well then what are we supposed to do, Genius," Erica snapped. "Sit here and die?"

The table erupted into an argument, insults and strategies twisting together through the fray, Eddie watching it all delighted. 

From the corner of his eye he could see Steve leaving the kitchen with a fresh plate of what looked like carrot sticks. He walked carefully and silently through, mostly ignored by the still bickering group as he began to collect the empty cookie plates and gather napkins, stepping from spot to spot to curiously look over shoulders. 

"Enjoying the peace and quiet, Harrington?"

Steve snorted, dropping the plate of carrots by Eddie's elbow. "Oh yeah. Getting in a quick meditation." 

Eddie laughed, glancing back down at his notes to hide the blush already crawling up his collar, scribbling out a quick direction on the paper.

And then-

“What the hell is that?”

-the table fell silent. 

There could have been a million reasons for those words to be said by any one of the Hellfire Club, and so Eddie wasn't much phased by the squawk from the other side of the table beyond the sea of miniatures and D20s. It was only when the other kids began to grumble that he looked up from behind his screen. 

What he found was a scene that didn’t fully belong at the table of dark cloth and menacing figurines and leather clad nerds who were all now staring at Mike Wheeler holding up his character sheet, staring at Steve who had been coming over to grab empty plates from the middle of the miniature battle. 

The character sheet, which was now adorned with a circle just bigger than a quarter. 

Eddie squinted. The circle was a bright, neon green with a star in the middle. And the star was wearing- Huh. He squinted again, and, yup. The star was wearing sunglasses. 

Steve turned back, empty stack of plates in one hand. “It’s a sticker.” 

“No shit, Steve,” said Mike. “What’s it doing here though.” 

Steve shrugged. “I thought your little dude was cool. So.” He reached into his pocket with his free hand and held up a roll of stickers. Eddie could see more sunglass wearing stars scattered in between a small galaxy of suns giving them the thumbs up and a moon with a backwards hat.

"We're not babies, Steve."

Steve rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to be a dick about it. Just say thank you.” 

“Whatever,” said Mike, which was as close to thanks as he ever got. “I’m throwing it away.”

“Do what you want,” said Steve. He rolled his eyes and looked down at Eddie. “So ungrateful,” he said, as if Eddie was meant to commiserate somehow with a freshman. 

Then again, Eddie was always happy to play along. “Oh yeah. Kid doesn’t know how good he’s got it. Crowning achievement, that prize.”

“You jealous, Munson?” 

Eddie snorted. “Sure, Harrignton. Whatever you want to tell yourself. Now stop distracting my sheepies. We’ve got stuff to- to…”

He trailed off when Steve leaned closer. His cologne was woodsy and dark and from the angle where he leaned, Eddie could see chest hair poking from the open neck of his polo shirt. He reached out and pressed his fingers against Eddie’s shoulder. His touch was firm and sure and Eddie wanted to sink against it. “Well,” he said, “I’d hate to be a distraction.” And then he leaned back like nothing had happened, getting the kids’ attention with a sharp whistle and a call for pizza orders. 

When Eddie looked down, there was a sticker on his shoulder. 

Eyes on the Prize said a festive looking potato. 

Eddie did his best to scoff, swallowing back the thrumming in his chest. 

.

.

.

Though if he put the stupid thing inside his binder afterwards. Well. That was no one else's business but his own. 

-

Want to read the rest of this fic? This is only a part of chapter 1! The rest of it (as well as the next three chapters) can be found on AO3!

If you want to watch Steve Harrington woo Eddie Munson with stickers, then this might be the right story for you.

Warning: (Slaps story) This baby can hold so many bad puns.

[orangeocelotmartyn]

Treebark Week — Frost

part one (Build/Divine) | part two (you are here) | part three (Sweet) | part four (Hair/Picnic)

An elemental fae like Martyn shifted with the seasons—he was best suited for the spring and summer (in that he looked the most human, then, provided you ignored the leaves in his hair), his skin shifting to a dull gray in the fall, and a bright, hypothermic blue in the winter. It’s how it always was, until he was dropped into the Life games—something about the code constricted him, keeping him that peachy tone, and with his hair covering his ears, one could assume he was wholly human, which is what the server did. 

He didn’t fault them for it—even Timmy, and Grian, and BigB, who should’ve known better, it’d been a few years since he last saw them, so of course they wouldn’t realize, and Martyn quite liked keeping a few cards close to his chest, so he didn’t correct anyone who claimed he was one of the few—if only—humans on the server. 

The whole “falling forever” if not in one of the games certainly shoved the thought of correcting anyone out of his mind, regardless, because he was so rarely called a human anyways, and he thought Ren got that he wasn’t human, what with the whole “you can’t turn me into a werewolf, it won’t work” thing.

But that didn’t change the surprise on his, or the other Hermits faces when he was invited on to visit and was visibly covered in a layer of frost. 

“Whoops,” Martyn said, having taken a tumble out of the rift he got in through. “Didn’t mean to fall for you lot.”

His words did not make the staring any less intense, and he shifted under their scrutiny. “…do I have something on my face? My shirt?” He glanced down, and then blinked. “Oh. It’s winter, is it?”

He brushed off any of their questions with a well timed joke, trying to make himself look good enough that perhaps they’d let him stay a little longer, integrate himself a bit as he scanned the crowd for his king Ren. He was, just like the last time he saw him, next to False (who was perfectly nice, really, if Martyn ignored the pulsating jealousy in his stomach when he saw them together), but at least he was looking in his direction, brow furrowed as he glanced between them.

The rift was rippling again, though, signaling that someone else was coming through and so Martyn stepped aside, letting the Hermits greet the next guest. He was happy for the new distraction, anyways, letting himself be swallowed by the crowd if only so he could peer at Ren without anyone scrutinizing his behavior. 

He didn’t get that chance, though, as a clawed hand reached forward to grab his wrist and tug him closer, out of the crowd, and he found himself blinking up at a much taller than he remembered Ren. 

“Wow, you’re tall. I hadn’t realized—the Life games really nerf us all, don’t they?”

Ren grinned down at him, still looking a bit awkward, but his comment definitely seemed to put a few pieces into their places. “Oh, er, yes, I’d forgotten that you hadn’t—you’re very blue, is that what you normally look like?” He still hadn’t let go of Martyn’s wrist, fingers pressed against Martyn’s pulse, which he was trying very hard to ignore that it was racing.

“Nah, not all the time. I’m just a very wintery boy right now, is all. Comes with the fae package.” He wriggled his fingers on his free hand, as if to demonstrate. “You lot caught me during the worst months, unfortunately. If I had known it was winter, I might’ve had second thoughts.” 

Of course, that wasn’t strictly accurate—Martyn would’ve shown up regardless, if it meant getting out of the void for a bit—a chance to stretch his legs, and, of course, Ren was here—right in front of him!—to talk to and joke around with.

Ren still hadn’t let go of his wrist. “I suppose,” he said, thoughtfully, “that we should’ve called it Blue Winter, instead, me Hand.” 

His words made Martyn wheeze out a surprised laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Milord,” he mock protested, “was red for your colors, and the blood you spilled to protect us!”

Ren grinned right back down at him, finally letting go. “But you, me Hand, are blue like the frost that protected us! We mustn’t forget your work in the pack. Er. Side note: how long will you be blue, exactly?”

“Whenever winter ends and the grass thaws, I’ll get my more spring-y colors back, maybe grow some flowers, you know how it is.”

Ren’s hand came up, then, to caress his cheek, and his eyes peered down at Martyn through his shades. The look was striking, and Martyn couldn’t help what came out of his mouth next— “‘course, there are faster ways to warm me up.” 

False, who was still stood right nearby, thanks, let out a groan, but Ren’s eyes narrowed, calculating. “Well, if that’s what it takes, I suppose I can prove myself very valuable to your cause.” His words were booming, carried well, and Martyn, although he couldn’t currently blush, definitely felt like he should be. 

“Oh, well, if you’re offering—“

Ren dropped his hand away from Martyn’s face, and nodded, more to himself than anything. “Let’s get you warmed up, shall we, Hand?”

——

“You know, this wasn’t what I expected,” Martyn said, words muffled a bit, thanks to the fur currently trying to make its way into his mouth.

Ren, who couldn’t speak, on account of currently being a giant wolf, just thumped his tail lazily in reply. 

False, who had no idea why she had come along, but was at least not currently being laid on, unlike Martyn, took her hand away from Ren’s head (eliciting a whine) to poke Martyn in the cheek. “Shush. I think I’m already starting to see the pink come back to your cheeks.”

[mettatons-fat-doughy-asscheeks]

📖 Mettaton, but he's in a world of all kinds of infinitely regenerating candy.

*It was a very alien kind of feeling. Most people haven't walked on roads made of taffy or across a field of those sour ropes that took the place of grass. A surreal constructed world with houses, nature, and even lakes of soda. Simply without another sign of life who was using it or who could possibly built it all.

*One bite can't hurt...

*Time began to fly by after that first bite, time and more and more candy that is. A nibble here, a few clumps from the ground there. He started trying anything that looked new that he came across. Despite all the time passed it was only when drops of frosting from a massive cupcake car smeared against his chest that he'd noticed it was bare, that this entire time he'd been dressed in nothing but a tight pair of pink shorts. It only added to that dream like quality.

*Well there aren't any consequences in a dream are there?

*It was a fair way to think about it. Nothing like this could be real. All those flavors were just his processors firing off in his sleep mode providing artifical sensations. So why not experience more of them? Start eating entire chocolate branches off those trees and picking the green apple leaves right off and munch on them after. Stuff his face with handfuls of spongecake walls insulated with buttercream.

*I can't help myself here

*His inhibitions slipped more and more with every treat he partook in, and no matter how much destruction followed in his wake he could always come back for more it seemed. Gingerbread neighborhoods, caramel apple orchards, gummy museums? He barely took in the scenery it was all just more treats for him. Treats that never filled him up, instead settling heavily in his middle for moments before melting away his muscle mass into pure blubber. Pecs softened into plump and perky tits that formed rolls beneath his softening arms, melding into the burgeoning layer of backfat he was acquiring. His abs were a thing of the past, replaced by a gut that started round and taught but glurped and slorshed outwards with flab that rolled at his navel forming a two layer cake of lard. His toned thighs joined in with his perky butt in deciding to go soft and flabby, cellulite forming on them both as those cheeks widened into a doorway filling wideload.

*Moooore... Candy.... More.... Sugar

*His thoughts slowed like molasses, devolving into a single minded desire to eat more of the sugary world around him. The damage it did to his figure or the way it made him sluggish and encumbered wasn't even a consideration. Not when he could shovel armfuls of donut innertubes at the citrus soda beach. His perception of time may have been shot before but it was non existent now. He could have been wandering this place for years at this point, sporting a body that would make sense for an all candy diet taken on that long.

*Muh OUUUUUAAAARP gut want wheeeeeeeze more canduh mnfff

*The formerly fit and trim robot had become an unrecognizable behemoth of pure undulating blubber. At 6'6.6" in height it was a real testament to his uncomprising gluttony that he'd managed to make himself wider than he was tall. His bloated lard sack of a gut jutted in front of him, dragging along the ground and leaving a trail of slimy sickly sweet smelling sweat behind as if he were a slug. Flopped atop that double rolled monster were two tits enormous enough to make any woman jealous, engorged nipples pierced by thick candy cane barbells that sank slightly into those puffy areola. Those massive udders were slathered with the colorful remnants of his past conquests, the trail leading upwards to a pancake stack of tirelike chins that head head sank ever so slightly into. His face was truly a testament to just how much of a fucking whale he'd turned himself into. His cheeks spread out over his chins, which themselves pooled onto his shoulders and the mountainous backfat behind him, and even began to slightly encroach into the lower peripheral of his vision. His lips weren't spared either, the usually black pair were slathered in sweet and pillowy like his moobs had been when he'd taken his first bites. Thickened drool flowed from them, sparkling with a mysterious carbonation. His hair was messy, though sill parted neatly, and seemed to have grown a small bit. It didn't manage to hide one of the strangest features on that plump head of his, the fact that even his forehead had begun to take on a small amount of pudge, letting itself he seen slightly from within his vision much like his cheeks. Around his sides his pathetic and nearly useless arms sat comfortably atop an avalanche of lovehandles capped off by a peak of fat sideboob. Following that avalanche down lead to a massive shelf of ass that took up nearly enough of his backside to begin to sag to the ground a lot like his greedy gut had. It of course help up a very impressive cliff of blubbery backfat, enough of it to fondle like it was the front of an avarage fatty.

*Whuh.... That?

*Oh? That unusual. There looks like a person in the distance. Hope they don't get starstruck seeing a famous celebrity in the place like this. If they can recognize him still that is.

EXTREME SLOB CONTENT UNDER THE CUT

*Seeing something new? That called for an investigation. Time for a first step towards it.

*Hnnnngh mnfff FRRRPPPPPPPPTTT

*Of course it's not easy moving a ham planet like him. It requires serious serious effort. And effort with a destroyed digestive system like his meant totally voiding his bowels. Visible smoggy purple farts vented from his bloated slimy donut-like asshole, a signal of things to come. It didn't take long for it to be followed by a torrent of thick rainbow syrup squirting out at amazing force, piling up behind him as he glacially waddled forwards towards the distant unfamiliar thing. That purple pollutant obviously smelled sweet, like fermenting a patisserie. His technicolor waste on the other hand was distinctly more fruity, a Fanta syrup medley. He was like a bloated portable corn syrup factory. And he was in total bliss.

[troutfur]

Sknce you're in need of more female character promots: I'm on a weird Frostfur kick and would kill for a piece from your frost/lion/tiger/golden polycule au with her feelings, particularly after book 5 when Tiger has maimed 2 of her daughters and killed her sister.

I also have a prompt involving Goldenflower in the askbox that would go really, really well as a companion piece to this one. So I'll be trying to tackle these two to finish up days 19 and 20. I do best with talky fics so I'm gonna need her to be there to provide a back and forth. And it's a good way to add some tension and exposit a bit about the things going on with the pfurr dynamic concept that make this one so fascinating.

(Want a chance at having your prompt picked for one of the last 10 days we have of November? Check out my guidelines and submit it. The more I have to pick from the better.)

Even outside the medicine den Frostfur could still smell the distinctive tang of blood. It clung to the insides of her nostrils like a tick to an elder’s fur. And in every moment that she couldn’t see to her daughter it bit, it bit without any chance for her to lodge it out.

She’d seen how her children had reacted, Brackenfur, Thornpaw, and even Cinderpelt barred by Yellowfrang from disturbing her, from spending their every waking moment observing, fretting, getting in the way of the delicate care Brightpaw required right now. She had to be firm with her now adult children, make them control the immense grief they felt for their sister (and their brother, Frostfur thought, they did afterall grew up with him as one), set the example even though she desperately wanted to give in to the same impulse as they were feeling.

Yellowfang updated them daily and Fireheart continued to brief the whole of camp on the situation out on the territory daily as well. And with both of them the situation seemed at an impasse. It wracked her with anxiety. How long would it be until Brightpaw is beyond recovery? How long would it be until someone tried the same thing as her daughter? How long could they still live like this, the thorns erected to protect them turned into a cage?

As Frostfur pondered these questions, seated upon her nest despite the sun at its height, she saw from the entrance to the warriors’ den a distinctive golden tabby pelt. “May I share your nest for a few moments?” she asked, bowing her head.

It had been quite a few moons since they stopped sharing one. It was now much smaller than when it was four of them. Still she shuffled aside and did her best to make room for the larger queen.

A part of her wanted to be furious with her, tell her that she had rejected her children from the moment she had denied to denounce that bloodthirsty traitor, that she had been the one to put them on his crosshairs. But that really wasn’t fair. Tigerclaw had joined the golden littermates in their nest first. And it had been her decision to seek entry into Lionheart’s nest rather than the other way around, even if Brindleface would’ve been amenable to the idea.

nd Goldenflower hadn’t really had a choice. The only other sire in her nest she could name would’ve been her brother, so between staining his reputation, raise suspicion around her loyalty, and just letting the Clan carry on assuming what they already were she simply let it all take its course. At least that way she knew she hadn’t made her predicament worse.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t notice earlier,” Goldenflower began. “It was... I really don’t even know how I failed to realize it, how I couldn’t see the warning signs, the hostility between my brother and him, the--”

“I don’t blame you,” Frostfur said with a sigh. “It’s not going to help Brightpaw get better... and it’s not like I was any better in that regard. I could’ve noticed as well. It’s also my fault.”

Goldenflower solemnly nodded, wrapping a paw around her former nestmate to bring her into a hug. “Faith in StarClan is all we have right now. And we mustn’t give it up lest we end up like Bluestar.”

“Faith in StarClan is all we have,” Frostfur echoed. “I have my own apology to offer.”

“If anything that should be me,” Goldenflower replied. “I left you when you needed me most. And even if in the eyes of the Clan I would no longer be a pipfurr to your children, between us I could always be.”

“Still it was an inconsiderate thing for me to do,” Frostfur replied.

“We can talk more about that and how it made me feel after Brightpaw is doing better,” Goldenflower said, pushing her into her chest deliberately. “For now please do not carry that burden. Now is not the time.”

[hylianassassin]

CONTRAST

Chapter 1: Dichotomy

“Magic runs deep within our people.” Tall, lean and vaguely canine in appearance, an elder carried herself on an elegant bipedal stride as she dictated. The youthful congregation before her stood in various states of attentiveness. There was some quality in her cracked voice, wielding a power that made the magic come alive in their fiery young cores like as many young stars. Magic was a way of life for the Skyborn, but only the foolish would fail to recognize its wonder.

Hers was a voice of flint, sharp even if chipped by time, and despite her icy demeanor was fully capable of ignition. Its owner was as well-worn as her voice, a female, long in years but not for lack of strength. Age aside, her long ears were still carried high against the painted sky as she stopped and stood before them, defiant of her age and as confident in her stance as she was in her teachings.

Day drew late and the sky, both above and below the temple, had begun to take on pinkish hues. The clouds traded their snowy white daywear for alluring evening gowns of orange and gold. Other hovering islands around theirs, both large and small, either glowed or darkened in correlation to their position with the sun and created an enchanting symphony for the eyes which made it nigh impossible to focus. With nothing to separate her students from the ambient seduction all around them, the youth, as always, were restless.

Thus the elder recited quickly, “Those on the surface mistakenly call us gods, but we are far from such. However, we are gifted by Providence with the essences of their being; the diverse forms of magic so cherished by our people.”

Her ears twitched to muttering within her audience. She cleared her throat and silence fell once more. She pressed the tips of her fingers together, and smiled to the rush of cold between them. Where her fingers went, the frost followed. In the air she created the upright triple triangles, wreathed in concentric circles. At key points of the formation, other symbols also appeared within the confines of small circles.

“The Zonai are gifted broadly by the goddesses, and while no grouping is exclusive, individuals eventually formed tribes within which magics they were most affiliated with: Spirit, Water, Fire, Wind, Light, and Shadow being the most prevalent.” She said, indicating each matching icon with its proxy. “And some individuals possess no magic at all. But, they are just as crucial to the balance.”

There were collective nods from the students, except for two of them in the back. Two young males sat beside each other, one with a coat of varying tones of grey and creamy white, curly hair down to his shoulders. He looked half attentive, but the rusty red and black youth beside him was very disinterested. He had heard all of this before; it had been preached to him for most of his life, in fact. Had his tutors not compared notes? He could recite the lecture almost word for word at this point. The grey male offered him a pointed glance, but he shrugged.

The instructor’s sapphire eyes narrowed upon them. “Balance exists in everything, simply for the sake that it must; for how can we distinguish one thing without another to contrast it? However, once in a great while, a dichotomy is born; one individual is so strong, and so fiercely attuned to their magic, that the divine can only send them paired with another of equal strength. Rauru, Jori, have either of you something to add?”

The boys in the back snapped to attention as they heard their names.

“No, Queen Naydra.” Rauru, the grey male, chimed with his typical diplomacy; a tone rust-colored Jori only ever heard when they were in trouble. Jori smirked, eyes flashing as he bit his tongue to suppress a cackle.

But the mistress was not buying it.

“Oh, but I believe that perhaps you do. Please, both of you to the front. Give us a demonstration of your abilities. I feel it would be quite relevant to the lesson.”

The young males caught each other's eye, shrugged, and did as they were told. Jori smirked at a white-haired, cream-coated female near the front of the group. Like him, she wore iconography of the moon, a mark of their tribe. There was no moonlight in her expression, however, as she scowled at them both. He shot her a wink anyway.

He stood with Rauru beside the mistress, and at her insistence, a golden white orb formed between his friend’s fingers. Jori shrugged and, not to be outdone, formed a swirling black and violet orb form between his own. The boys, almost as if rehearsed, raised their palms towards each other. Light and shadow writhed and danced with each other, creating small bursts of colorful sparks where they crossed paths. The boys grinned at each other as their peers swooned over their display.

“A dichotomy.” Naydra continued. “One individual balanced by another; kept in check by their opposite. Now if only you both could pay better attention, you may well become more powerful than any of us gathered could imagine.”

There were giggles and affirmations from their peers. Rauru’s ears drooped, a hint of pink tinting them. As they returned to their seats, Jori rolled his eyes. Naydra had resumed her lecture, and Jori leaned over to Rauru and whispered into his ear, “Let's get out of here.”

Rauru opened his mouth as if to protest, but he promptly shut it and looked at Naydra. If she was still watching them, she gave no indication of it. He flicked his ears in indecision, but ultimately turned to Jori and nodded. Jori waited until Naydra looked away, then carefully rose and slipped away. Rauru waited for a similar opportunity, then joined his friend around the corner. A few of the other students noticed their escape, but either did not care or were longing to do the same, for none raised the alarm. Rauru breathed a sigh of relief and hastened to follow his rusty companion as they found their way to an unoccupied courtyard near the edge of the island.

Rauru stared at the sunset while he sat upon a mossy boulder. Jori flopped down upon his back, watching the sky morph between its various fiery phases until the first hints of starlight blinked into being. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, held it, and savored it before he slowly freed it. To him, this was always the best part of the day.

One of the temple remlits, small and catlike with long ears and ringed tails, mewled at Jori’s feet, and he sat up to scratch its ears before his gaze drifted over to Rauru. Around them they could hear the clamor of zonai youth reuniting with their families and starting towards home. Jori studied his friend before he spoke.

“You know, for someone gifted by ice she sure is full of hot air sometimes.”

In spite of himself, Rauru smirked. “Don't let her hear that.”

Jori shrugged. “The Depths does it matter? I'm always in trouble anyway.”

“I suppose that's true. Still, perhaps it's a good habit to start practicing. You're going to be a king someday.”

“Doubt it. The way my father acts, he's more likely to manually pass the crown to someone else rather than allow it to fall to me. Probably Aysu.” His ears warmed as he said it; her pretty white hair, sparkling personality, and eyes so bright they were almost white. Even her lovely scowl this afternoon. Rauru chuckled.

“To be fair I would crown her too, if only to see you get flustered any time you have to address her.”

“Ha ha.” Still, Jori smirked. Just then, his ears flicked up as he heard Naydra speaking in the next alcove, to someone whose voice he recognized as Rauru’s elder sister. It was followed immediately by the gruff voice of his governess. He bristled, then turned once more to Rauru.

“I'm not interested in listening to this. Let's get out of here.”

“But–”

“Nope. We're already in trouble. Let's have some fun before we have to deal with it.”

He got up and dusted himself off. Rauru glanced towards the voices, then to his friend before he, too, rose. Jori was already at the edge, choosing a trajectory through the void below. Just before he could join him, Jori had jumped with a yowl of jubilation. Rauru winced as he heard the abrupt halt in the elders’ conversation. Angry footsteps were coming through the arch, and he did not want to see who they belonged to.

Without a second thought, he leapt.

***********************

@ok-seventhsage

Prev | Next | All

[maranull]

Okay that gif's a lot bigger than I expected it to be O.O ~Prompt Delivery!!~

Your options are: 1) Write a scene including these three things: a candle, a shooting star, & a rose. 2) Silver and Gold: What's Marika's favorite thing about Rennala? & Rennala's favorite about Marika? 3) & a prompt sentence I'm just straight-up yoinking from an enemies-to-lovers prompt list I have saved: "No one has to know about us; I know this could ruin you."

^_^ Have fun! (& I hope at least one of these inspires something!)

Lex! Hellooo!! Those are wonderful prompts, thank you! I thought about writing them all, but I have absolutely zero ideas about no3, and no2 would be spoiler-y for the fic if I wrote it as a scene :P

So! I wrote something for no1, and threw my ideas for no2 as small notes after that.

1)

The night was dark, the new moon and stars hidden behind thin white clouds. It was silent too, with only the rare clunking of armoured boots coming from the town's watchtowers. The silence would last for long though. In a couple hours, the bakers would wake up, and with the warm scent of their work, the town would gently follow.

Not her though.

She hadn’t slept at all tonight. She had faked drowsiness, of course, when her husband joined their bed, but she was up and out of the covers as soon as she heard his breathing relax. She was still sitting on the bed, her feelings pushing her to get up but her thoughts fighting back.

She was looking towards the dark nightstand, where she knew his wedding gift was. A rose in a small glass dome. It was a polite gift and one that her husband had always been considerate of. They had closed 10 years together, and in all this time, he would replenish the rose each time it withered. Of all the ways an arranged, loveless marriage could go, theirs had probably gone the best. Both of them did their part, and both respected each other's decisions. The woman was grateful for her luck.

Yet, as she looked towards the imprisoned rose, something inside her was screaming. It was irrational and even childish. Her mind dreamed of new places, the fear and joy of new experiences, new faces, places where she could unshackle herself, free of the manners a married woman of the town should keep. She wanted to run, she wanted to laugh without thought, she wanted to scream.

She wondered if the rose felt the same way. It had sun and water, it was sheltered from the wind and frost. Yet it felt not the touch of wind, the caress of rain or the hug of the soil.

Taking a deep breath, she stood to her feet. In the dark, she walked to the dresser and picked a few travel clothes she deemed necessary. In her activity, her mind still trailed back to the rose and also, to her sleeping husband. She wondered how his days would change from now on. Would he wake earlier to make breakfast, or would he prepare something cold the night before? Would he feel relieved that he would now only have himself to provide for? Would he miss her? Would she miss him? She shook her head. Questions for another time.

It didn’t take her long to gather most essentials. She took some of the salted meat, one of their big water jugs and the last day’s leftover bread. She packed them all neatly in a sack and let it rest next to a lantern by the door.

As she walked down the stairs to the cellar where their candles were stored, an idea struck her. It would risk waking up the man, and it would only give her fleeting satisfaction, but the moment the thought came to mind, she became dead set on doing it. Rushing a bit, she grabbed two handfuls of candle sticks for the lantern and quietly rushed up the stairs again.

After repacking the sack, she took hold of one of the candles and walked outside. She shivered in the sudden cold. Quickly she made her way to the light pole closest to home, borrowing its flame with the candle.

Then she was back in her house again, returning for the last time.

With gentle quiet steps, she entered the bedroom, her eyes shifting from the man to the rose and back to him again. To her relief, the light only made him turn away and pull the covers over his head.

With more confidence now, she took the dome off the rose. It was at its first stages of wilting, and a lone petal fell to the floor. She picked up the rose, with a gentleness that its thorns didn’t dare pierce, and she placed it on the stone floor next to its lost petal. Then, she ran the flame throughout the stem, lighting the flower on fire. She hoped the man would get the message.

Exiting the house for the final time, she looked to the sky, looking for something. Reassurance? Strength? Blessings? Willpower? She didn’t really know.

And she didn’t know what the shooting star she saw across the sky gave her, but it was enough to get her moving.

Like it, she would cross the world. Like it, her dreams would shine brighter than the mundaneness of her past. Like it, she would move forward.

~End

This probably counts as multiple scenes, and I'm not 100% sure that I communicated the story as well as I wanted to, but I spent a couple hours being lost on how to improve it, so... This will have to do. Hope you like it!

2)

And the Silver and Gold notes are:

Marika’s favourite thing is how Rennala takes on her leader duties. Neither of them was raised to be a Queen, but Rennala took on that duty naturally, with ease and composure, while Marika still struggles to keep up the appearance of regality.

Rennala’s favourite thing is Marika’s sincerity and bluntness. Granted, Marika is only sincere towards Rennala and her kids, anyone else is fair game for deceit and manipulation. But even in her most untrustworthy moments, she is as blunt and direct as she can be and Rennala loves it.

~

Thank you so much for the prompts!! no1 actually made me really want to write some original fiction, there's something really cool about the freedom you can have with it. At least compared to the way I personally write fanfiction. I might start exploring an idea or two I had in my old notes...

But yeah! Really, really loved these prompts, thank you so much! <333

(￣︶￣)/

[raccoon-crown]

DREAM LAND AU: We are three siblings, remember?

I was thinking about the Jambastion Arc again, in this AU it's almost the last one being the last so far the Fecto Solaris arc, and mainly I was lost in thought for the Generals.

After all, Surge and Frost (Kit) had known each other for quite a time, like years, but since the Amazing mirror Arc when Shadow comes to live is not that far from this point in story, they actually have known Zero (infinite) for much less.

It has been like two years at most.

So at the beginning he was much more like an uncomfortable visitor, one that lived, trained and even ate with them. The jackal was always in a bad mode for some reason they couldn't understand.

His mere looks where enough to make Frost avoid him most of the time, and as for Surge she found it was fun to tease him at least till he started ignoring her.

Hypnoss noticed this and since it was necessary fir the three of them to get along to work for him he crafted a little plan for them to get along.

There were many factors he needed to check, but he decided that their first mission together should do the trick.

After a brief hipnosis night session to put it all in place, they went to search a cave to look for clues he needed to find the Jambastion heart. They were supposed to retrieve some papyrus that was hidden there.

What he didn't mention was the fact that there was a monster taking care of said papyrus.

So, even if it was quite uncomfortable for them to be in a reduced and dark space alone, they needed to be together since Zero was the only one that could provide some light without electrifying anyone (the fire power always came in handy). And also since Hypnoss made Zero the team leader for the mission, he couldn't exactly ignore them as usual.

And since the place was full of traps, they actually had to communicate to cover each others back, so ya could say that almost by the end they were in better terms than before. Frost was less scared of the Jackal and he finally started to get Surge humor and finally payed attention to the kit.

And by the time they almost got the papyrus the monster appeared, a giant earth worm that gave them a serious hard time.

Why did Hypnoss took a huge risk of his creation being killed? Because seeing his siblings to be in danger will surely trigger the instincts of someone who already lost all his family (even if he can't actually remember) like Zero.

And it indeed worked, even at the brink of being the defeated the jackal managed to keep fighting to defend the other two so hard, that he managed to touch them, because even in the past no one seemed to care so much for them as he desperately did in that moment (not even Hypnoss, but they couldn't recognize it at the moment).

Once they managed to survive the battle and escape the cave, the three of them looked a lot closer. And with time the bond got stronger (to Hypnoss pleasure).

The thing was... that ya may already know that after Hyness goes down in the main story... the three sisters lose it.

And it happens her too. After all, Hypnoss made sure that he in a way or another ended up being the center of the three Generals world. He pretended to be a father, mentor and example for them.

There was barely anything that could surpass Hypnoss influence in the siblings... except their family bond: even if it had a fake seed like the star shards growing inside of them, it became real as the time passed.

Strong enough to make them react right on time for Kirby Amy to used her heart powers to bring them back to their right mind.

[saturnfairycat]

Mágoa

Archive #29 | copyright to saturnfairycat

Author's note: can you believe I wrote this one on instagram? lmao being a writer is weird. enjoy!

Mágoa

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

Our love was like home to me. It felt like a physical place for my mentality to lie.

On days where the world seemed colder, I seek warmth near the fireplace— cuddling up with blankets and hot cocoa. On days where it was spring, I would be dancing on the deck over seeing our garden— you always believed dancing is best in silence, the only sound was careless whispering to each other. Such sweet nothings filled our house with warmth and my heart with comfort.

Of course, it was never easy— the belongings in our home were the memories and bonds we have made and shared together. If it wasn't for me, the house would be bare to the bone— only left with the original wallpaper that you put up after breaking down my walls.

I know you tried, and you would visit the house as much as you could— but we both knew deep down it wasn't enough. Soon, it wasn't only the world that seemed colder; my breath is shaky as I puffed out frost from my lungs. The fireplace was no longer used, even when I tried multiple times with the damn lighter you gave me. Our garden started to wilt, and home felt more like a distant memory.

But the belongings were still here— and so I kept them near me at all times. Hugging them to my chest like it provided me with the warmth and care I needed, ignoring the distinct coolness that came off it every passing day.

'When will you return home?' was the question I used to always ponder. 'Am I bad at maintaining our home?' I scrunched up my face in frustration. It started raining a lot during that time, it was salty— and made the skin of my cheeks feel dry afterwards.

One day, it stopped raining. Warmth came back— tenfold— but the fireplace wasn't the source. The draping wallpaper had caught on fire, I guess I have sparked the lighter a little too close to the dangling pieces of wallpaper above the fireplace.

How did I not notice the fire? I don't know. I think I have always seen a spark, but mistook it for hope instead.

The fire consumed everything in the house, even climbing out onto the wilted garden.

I managed to get out… But barely. I was harmed, yes. But people came to my rescue— I was safe. I was hurt. I felt sick, our home was getting destroyed and I could only helplessly stand back and watch it burn.

The only two choices I had left were to either stand there and watch it burn, becoming homeless without shelter— or walk away, and build my own house. I reluctantly pulled away at my spot outside the burning house, turning my back and glancing behind me a couple of times.

And then that's where I saw you.

You stood at the entrance of the house. Your foot edging past the door and threatening to enter the burning building. You looked back at me, beckoning me to follow you.

I felt a million emotions. You probably didn't understand what I was feeling— the fear of false hope, the desperation for that second chance, the dread of seeing your face again. I thought back to our memories, and how a lot of them were destroyed by the fire— you didn't remember them at all.

You were giving me mixed emotions, you didn't look certain to be where you are, but you didn't move.

Was this the second chance I was so desperate for?

Do I follow you in?

You seem to be completely different and just the same as I once knew you all at the same time. You must have lost your way, your visible scars prove so. Maybe… I could help. I could help somehow, what can I salvage? Is that why you're wanting to enter the house? Are you wanting to retrieve the remaining belongings?

I rushed towards you, following you in. If I just save the things we both loved in that house, maybe we can restart as something new— maybe just a small vegetable garden, or an ash tree.

The smoke blinded me, I have lost you in the smoke. But I knew what to do, I didn't lose my way. I reached and grasped at what I could, wincing at the heat. When I neared a window, I saw your left hand holding one of our more newer possessions— while your right hand held our oldest possession. I was confused, you were outside— don't you want the others?

I guess you got cold feet, too scared of the flames to salvage the rest. You left, after I hesitantly stared back at you— your eyes begging me to follow you once more.

I was burning up, I was lost. What have I done? I have caused more pain for myself. I gave you a second chance and ran into a burning building to save the things I loved. But you didn't save me.

I escaped the collapsing house, leaving the belongings behind in the fire.

Without a single glance. I walked away from the burning house I once called our home.

[sokoviansimp]

Control pt. 2

✒ Pairings: dom!wanda x subAgent!femreader, bestfriend!Nat x bestfriend!reader

✒ Summary: New experiences provide clarity and confusion as you begin your training with Wanda.

✒ Tags and Warnings: 18+! Mature themes, mind control, early dom/sub dynamics, enemies to lovers, slow burn

✒ Author's Note: sorry this took so long, I'm a slow writer and I was really sick for two weeks.

✒ Word Count: 8973

✒ Read Time: 20 minutes

Masterlist : Socials : Series Masterlist

After weeks of recovery, you were finally allowed to sleep in your own room. Though, to your surprise, all of your belongings were moved from your room at the SHIELD base to one inside the compound. The thought of being in another foreign place instead of the comfort of your familiar bedroom was almost as bad as knowing a team of agents had gone through all of your private things.

You were brought up to a room on the third floor. It wasn’t completely on purpose, but it had just so worked out that floor two housed the males on the team, and floor three had the females, which was just Wanda and Natasha, and now you. Nat wanted to keep you close during your recovery and introduction to the team. She also felt it was fitting for you to be close to Wanda if she was meant to be your mentor.

Nat made sure to show you around the entire floor as she introduced you to your new room, “I’m sure you’re tired so I won’t stay, but if you need anything I’m right down the hall, and Wanda is right next door,” she assured.

“Thanks, Nat,” you said genuinely, thankful for everything she’s done for you throughout this experience. She was the best friend you had and she always earned that position with the way she cared for you. The two of you were soulmates in a way that sometimes, only friends can be.

Once you were left alone in your room, you quickly realized how tired you truly were. It was late in the afternoon by this point and you had a long day as doctors came in and out to give you dismissal plans and best practices. While it wasn’t your typical bedtime yet, you decided that you’d rather get rest now so that you could have a full day back to the real world tomorrow.

As you moved around the room to get ready for bed, you appreciated the effort of whoever transported your things. It was clear that they attempted to put everything as closely as possible back to the way it was in your previous living arrangements. The room was a different layout so it was impossible to be exact, but you could tell that they put care in settling you in.

Even in the new environment, it felt nice to go through your nightly routine again. It really made the moment when you finally sunk down into the fresh sheets that much cozier. You put on some sitcoms from the 2000s, but you knew you’d fall asleep before it was over. The television was loud enough to understand with captions and soft enough to allow you to drift off to sleep as you wished.

About a week goes by as Nat familiarizes you with all of the amenities and protocols to get you adjusted as a permanent resident of the compound, and when she’s busy, she has Wanda take over. You notice that your tiredness isn’t improving at all. You’ve always been known for being chill and easygoing, and you always felt tired in some way, that was just normal for you. Since the incident, though, your exhaustion has felt like it’s grown tenfold. The doctors expected that you’d be nearing full recovery by 2 weeks, but you felt something must be off track.

By the end of the week; you’re getting sick of being babied, and even though you haven't fully recovered you think you might just go crazy without some fresh air. You didn’t make your way down to the kitchen for breakfast until almost 11:30am, where Wanda was already preparing lunch.

“Got a full night’s sleep?” Wanda sarcastically pondered aloud as you tiredly shuffled through the cabinets for some ceral.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you grogily answered as you added milk to your frosted flakes.

“Maybe you should go back to bed then,” Wanda suggested

As if the suggestion alone gave you a burst of energy, you sprung back, “Oh no. I am done laying around like a potato! I am not spending a single solitary second in my room until I get outside for some fresh air.” there was a beat of silence once you finished your short rant, as if Wanda felt like you needed a breather after your small outburst.

“Alright- Well we can go out back and work on controlling your powers,” she offered once the silence ran its course.

“Yes! Perfect!” you confirmed as you took the first bite of your cereal.

Once Wanda finished up her lunch, she sat across from you to eat in mostly silence. It was a comfortable silence though, the crunch of your cereal breaking it ever so slightly. The two of you sat there and scrolled on your phones until your food was finished. You thoroughly cleaned your plate while you waited for Wanda to finish up her meal.

Even though you were quite familiar with the compound, visiting Nat often. You had no idea what surrounded the area. Adversely, Wanda spent a lot of time exploring the terrain that the compound sat within, especially when she was first adjusting to her new home. She explored to take her mind off of the events that led her to reside at the compound and forget about the clinical aesthetic that lacked any personality or comfort. It gave her an outlet that felt like an escape from reality.

“Where are we going?” You felt like she was leading you to some secret secluded area where no one could hear you scream, and in a way, she was.

“To work on your control,” that wasn’t the answer you were looking for. So you did what you do best, offer a snarky response.

You huffed, “That’s exactly what someone would say before leading me to certain torture, where no one can hear me scream,” you said with a dramatic undertone.

She looked back at you, slightly chuckling, “If I wanted to torture you, I wouldn’t drag you all the way out here to do it,” she bit back confidently with a sly smile creeping up, giving you a shiver down your spine that you blamed on the wind.

The spot that she settled at overlooked a mountain in the distance with a river flowing between the perch where the two of you stood. By the lookout, there was a long log makeshift to act as a bench, which Wanda frequently used to sit and ponder her thoughts and feelings. No one else really knew this spot existed other than her, she never spoke about it or showed anyone else until now. She wasn’t too keen on showing you her sacred getaway spot, but it was the safest place she could think of to practice your powers.

You gushed over the gorgeous area as soon as the overlook became clear and revealed its true beauty. The trees became more sparse as you walked, and the view opened up for you showcasing the natural landscape, “Wow, this is- it’s beautiful out here. I never knew this spot existed.”

“Yeah, no one does and I’d like to keep it that way,” Wanda said pointedly, ensuring that you weren’t going to start blabbing about it to the entire compound. If Tony got wind of it, surely he’d start building infrastructure around it and Wanda would lose her favorite spot.

Your hands shot up in defense, “Of course, I won’t tell a soul,” you confirmed.

Wanda, with an unamused look in your direction, “Not even Natasha.”

“Oh. Yeah, uh. Well, glad you clarified. Not even Natasha. Where should we tell them we are?” You asked, trying to come up with a story now because you aren’t very good at lying or even withholding information from your best friend, especially if you have to think it up on the spot.

“They won’t ask.”

Unfortunately for you, even if she doesn't ask, chances are high that you’d offer up the information accidentally anyway. You needed to come up with a cover story now to get it out of the way so that you dont have to come up with an explanation on the spot, “Well, what if they do? I just feel like we should be on the same page here.” you pushed.

“Y/N, it’s not that deep. Just say that we went to the other side of the compound grounds. See the river here?” you nodded, shifting your focus to the flowing water, “It spills into a massive lake on the other side of the compound.”

You acknowledged her explanation and with that, you were able to carry on with whatever Wanda had planned for you. She didn't have a particularly thought-out plan in place, but she had an outline of the steps she figured you would need to go through to grasp control of your abilities.

In order to help you, she needed to know what she was working with and how much power you truly wielded. After plenty of hesitation from you and coaxing from her, you outstretched your arm toward the mountain, “Go on, give it everything you’ve got,” Wanda encouraged.

Try as you might, nothing happened. Your muscles tensed as you attempted to make something happen, but you were stood there looking like a fool, “It’s- nothing’s happening!” you grunted as you let your arm fall back down to your side in frustration.

Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle, “Wow, finally something you’re not perfect at on the first try.” she claimed.

This hit a bit of a soft spot for you, “Contrary to popular belief, Maximoff, I’m rarely good at anything on my first try. I spent countless hours of practice and training to be where I am today.”

“Try again then” Wanda responded plainly, not fully convinced of the pity card you were playing.

You outstretched your arm again, trying to make something happen, but nothing did. Frustration began taking over and you tried again, with all your might you were trying to make something, anything, happen.

Wanda saw the way you became aggravated and quickly put a stop to it when she noticed your face getting red. Even though she enjoyed watching you struggle, she was nervous the effort you were putting in could become a hazard if you suddenly released the right type of energy.

“Ok, that’s enough. Take a breather,” she said as she reached out to put your hand back at your side and gently rubbed your arm in a soothing motion to calm you down. You took a breath, gathering yourself back together.

“Let’s try this,” Wanda started as she captured your gaze, “Close your eyes,” she waited for you to follow suit, but you hesitated, afraid of the vulnerability, “come on. Just do it,” she pushed, and you starkly fell into line. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at the way you jolted to follow her command.

“Good,” she approved, which brought that same tingle to your body from earlier. You’re not sure that you’ve ever heard praise leave her mouth directed your way. The redhead reached out with a featherlike touch and glided her pointer finger along your arm, “Now take a deep breath and focus on this feeling,” she moved from your left arm to the top of your neck, dragging down the middle of your back. It felt like your skin was on fire at this point, every small touch reverberating 10-fold across your body. “Feel how the energy in your body moves.” She practically whispered in a hushed tone.

You could feel it, everything was so sensitive. You weren’t sure if it was because you were actually paying attention to the way the air met your skin, or because of the way Wanda was gliding her fingers across, “Do you feel that?” Wanda questioned, barely audible so as to not break your concentration, causing you to slowly nod in confirmation as you continued to breathe slowly.

Removing her fingers from your skin, Wanda took a step back from you, “Now keep that same focus and raise your left arm out in front of you.” You did as you were told, slowly raising your arm and letting it hang until she gave further instruction, “Perfect, now shift that focus to your left hand. Don’t pay attention to anything else,” she stated firmly, “just my words and the feeling of energy flowing to your hand”

She could tell you were concentrating hard by the way your brow furrowed ever so slightly. “Now, imagine the energy flowing from the tips of your fingers. Concentrate everything to your hand and imagine it pushing out.”

You did as she said, and you were so focused on the feeling in your hand that any minuscule movement felt similar to a creaky floorboard. Soon enough, your hand started to tingle and you even felt the temperature begin to rise.

“That’s it, now push it through, get rid of it.” Wanda guided. You could feel the energy slowly reverberating from your hand in waves, it was slow at first but once it was out you quickly ramped up to a more sizable wave of low-frequency acoustic energy.

You were quickly losing control of it as the seismic waves grew quicker than you anticipated. Without even knowing what happened, you felt a comforting fog take over your mind, and your arm quickly dropped to your side. You stood there in complete bliss until the fog faded fully from your mind, “Y/N?” Wanda interrupted, “How are you feeling?”

You turned around to face her, “Tired,” you said with hooded eyes. Using your powers took a lot out of you, especially when you were already tired to begin with, “-but, that felt amazing!”

Wanda smiled in return, “I know, getting a hang of your powers is a really good feeling, I remember when I-”

“No, the feeling that came after, it was like my brain shifted and went into a different state. It was so relaxing. Does that happen to you when you use your powers too?”

That wasn’t the answer Wanda was expecting, “Oh, no Y/N. What you felt was me, using my powers on you. I noticed you were having trouble keeping pace with the volume of waves, so I stepped in to break off the outburst,” she explained.

“Oh.” that made sense, you weren’t sure how you were able to stop so easily when moments before it felt like you were losing control. That feeling though, god it felt amazing. Part of you craved it as if everything fell into place in that moment. “Can we go back now? I’m so tired,” you asked as a yawn escaped like a bookend to your query.

“Already? We just got here.” Wanda teased before she remembered you’re still in recovery mode. “Yeah, I’m really tired,” you slurred as fatigue slammed into you similar to the force of a freight train and you visibly stumbled trying to keep upright. Wanda quickly caught you and guided you over to the nearby rock to sit for a moment, “I-I’m sorry, I just-” you started to apologize but Wanda cut you off, “Y/N stop, you don’t need to apologize.” she reassured you, and when you looked up to meet her gaze you were surprised to see the complete absence of anger or disgust, something you weren't used to.

Once you got ahold of your bearings, the two of you headed straight to the compound. Upon entering, you immediately plopped onto the nearest thing available to sleep on, which just happened to be the couch in the common room, not even bothering to make the trek upstairs to your bedroom.

“Y/N, I think we should go to the med bay and get you checked out,” Wanda stated trying to urge you off of the couch.

“Mmm, later,” you responded groggily as if you were half asleep already.

“Come on, surely your bed is cozier than this,” Wanda persisted, but there was no response this time. She stood there for a couple of seconds longer, staring at your form and waiting to see your chest rise and fall a couple of times before heading off to the medbay to get Bruce’s opinion. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of nothing, and she would surely never admit it, but she cared about your well-being.

Bruce assured Wanda that she was right in bringing this to his attention, while not urgent, it would be best to get you checked out. You should be recovered enough by this point that extreme exhaustion shouldn’t come so easily.

You woke up a few hours later and after pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, you headed up to your room. Hearing the movement, and soft noise of the TV turning on through the walls of your room, the woman next door made her way over to knock on your door.

“Come in!” you called from the bed, as you kept your attention on the TV knowing it was only Nat coming in to hang out.

“How are you feeling?”

Taken off guard by a different voice, you did a double take, “Wanda? Sorry I was expecting Nat. You just caught me off guard. I’m feeling better, just needed a nap.” you explained, trying to straighten your posture and appear like you’ve miraculously healed with that short nap.

“That’s good! I spoke to Bruce and-” Wanda began, before you cut in, “Spoke to Bruce? What? Why? I’m fine!” you blurted out, hating the thought of being brought back to medbay for further testing, you’ve always hated doctors, and especially hospitals. With how much time you’ve spent in a hospital the last month, if you never went back, it’d be too soon.

“He said you shouldn’t be tired anymore, and it’d be good to get checked out.” She explained.

You shook your head, “I’m fine Wanda. This is nothing new for me, being tired is my normal. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the best part is coming up.” You say motioning to the sitcom you had playing on the tv.

“When Clair tells Phil that she was too lazy to wait in line for his iPad?” Wanda challenged knowing exactly what episode you were watching, figuring you were just trying to get rid of her.

“No. Well, kind of I guess, but after that Phil goes to the batting cages as a coping mechanism.” you clarified.

“How is that the best part?” Wanda pushed for a more in depth explanation.

Part of you felt like you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, but another deeper part of you almost wanted to open up and let Wanda into all the details of your life, “Softball was a big part of my childhood, so it always felt like the batting cages were a safe place for me too, a place to stop overthinking and just focus on things like my stance or the angles I caught the ball at.”

It’s not the answer Wanda expected, but it made a lot of sense now, “You crash birthdays there too, or is that just a Phil thing?”

You both let out a laugh, “No, no. Phil takes the cake on that one.”

“Mind if I join?” she phrased it as a question, but she closed the door and moved to sit next to you on your bed before receiving an answer, and treating it more as a statement.

Not knowing how to decline at that point, or if you even wanted to you just kind of shook your head awkwardly and turned the volume up. The two of you sat in silence, other than the crunch of your cereal and the laughter you shared at the funny parts.

Together you watched about 2.5 episodes before the cozy atmosphere lulled you into a peaceful slumber. Wanda hadn’t even noticed you were sleeping until she glanced over because you weren’t laughing anymore. She couldn’t help but take note of your contorted position, clearly uncomfortable.

Concern etched subtly across her features, Wanda gently shook your shoulder, trying to rouse you from your deep sleep. "Hey, Y/N," she whispered softly, "you're sleeping in a pretty awkward position. You should move."

Y/N stirred, emitting a soft whine in response, but made no effort to adjust her position. Wanda sighed softly, realizing that coaxing Y/N awake might prove to be a challenge. With a gentle touch, she brushed a strand of hair away from Y/N's face, a fond smile tugging at her lips.

"You're stubborn, you know that?" Wanda murmured affectionately, her fingers tracing your cheek. "Fine, I guess I'll take care of you then."

With careful hands, Wanda eased you into a more comfortable position, tucking a pillow under your head and arranging the blankets around you. As she watched you settle into a deeper sleep, a warmth that she hadn’t expected filled Wanda's heart.

With that realization, she hurried out of your room as quickly as she could without disturbing you and pushing any positive feeling she suddenly felt toward you as far away as she could. God, she couldn’t stand you. Once she got back to her own quarters she asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to send both you and Bruce a reminder to look into your exhaustion so that she wouldn’t have to bring it up with you again.

Your footsteps quickened as you rounded the corner, hoping to evade Bruce's watchful gaze. The prospect of returning to the medbay filled you with a sense of unease, a heavy feeling you couldn't quite shake.

Bruce, Wanda, and now even Natasha had all been insistent on your follow-up examination, but you continued to make excuses and delay the inevitable. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the cold, clinical atmosphere of the medbay sent shivers down your spine, stirring up memories you'd rather forget.

With each passing moment, your anxiety mounted, a knot tightening in your stomach at the mere thought of facing medical procedures and probing questions. You knew Bruce and Nat meant well, you were still on guard with Wanda, but the fear of hospitals and medical procedures was deeply ingrained within you. Years spent avidly making sure no one else was privy to this fear because being a SHIELD agent requires bravery and courage, so how could you be a good agent and simultaneously be afraid of the doctor? You couldn’t. No one could know.

As you ducked into a nearby corridor looking over your shoulder, you were relieved to find Bruce's figure out of sight. But the guilt gnawed at you, knowing you were avoiding someone who was only trying to help for the sake of your own discomfort.

Yet, the fear of hospitals felt overwhelming, you felt a sort of primal instinct that seemed to grip you tighter with each step. You couldn't bring yourself to face it head-on, not yet anyway.

With a heavy sigh, you resolved to ignore the issue until it went away. For now, you’d continue to dodge Bruce's attempts at persuasion.

Days passed with you mostly keeping to yourself, Nat was away on a mission for a few days so that made things a bit easier. When you did venture out of your room for things like food and drinks, you made sure to scout out the area before entering to ensure you wouldn’t run into anyone.

As Wanda busies herself in the kitchen, the air is infused with an enticing medley of aromas that dance and mingle, creating a sensory symphony.

The rich, savory scent of sautéed onions fills the air, their sweet fragrance wafting from the skillet as Wanda expertly caramelizes them to perfection. The gentle sizzle of the onions echoes through the kitchen, a comforting sound that signals the beginning of a culinary masterpiece.

Next comes the earthy aroma of garlic, its pungent essence mingling with the sweetness of the onions to create a harmonious blend of flavors. As Wanda minces the garlic cloves with practiced precision, the kitchen is enveloped in the warm embrace of this aromatic duo.

“Hey Wanda, Have you seen Y/N?” Bruce asks, entering the kitchen and immediately bing hit with the aroma of Wanda’s Solyanka dish, “Mmm, smells good in here!” he added

Wanda smiled at the compliment as she turned to Bruce, “Not in a couple of days, how’d her check-in go?” she asked while continuing to stir the dish.

“It hasn’t, I think she may be avoiding me.” He deadpanned

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, when I first mentioned a follow-up examination to her. She very suddenly had a bunch of things to do and ran off, and I haven't seen her since. This was 4 days ago.” Bruce explained as he rummaged through the fridge for a drink.

Wanda nodded as the gears began to turn in her brain, she let out a hum, “Interesting. F.R.I.D.A.Y where is Y/N now?” she spoke aloud to the artificial assistant.

“Y/N is currently practicing archery in the training sector,” F.R.I.D.A.Y informed.

“Well, at least she’s not in bed,” Wanda dryly chuckled, adding the last bits of tomato to the pot.

Bruce nodded, “Yea, I’d still like to get that follow-up in though. I have a meeting in about 10 minutes, do you think you could talk to her?”

“What, why me?” she practically whined.

Bruce smiled, almost devilish, and simply said “You’re her mentor.” before leaving the room with his glass of mango juice.

Wanda rolled her eyes as she turned back to the pot on the stove, it was almost done. She just needed to put it on low to simmer for a bit. Though, as she made her way out of the kitchen, she almost felt a sense of excitement. Must’ve been because her dish was coming along so nicely, because there’s no way she would ever be excited to see you. Right?

As Wanda made her way to the training sector, her steps purposeful and determined, she couldn't shake the nagging worry that had been gnawing at her since Bruce had mentioned your unscheduled appointments in the medbay.

Spotting you across the training room, Wanda approached with a gentle smile, hoping to broach the subject delicately. But as she drew nearer, she noticed the tension in your posture, the furrow of your brow, and the restless energy that seemed to radiate from your figure.

"Hey, Y/N," Wanda greeted softly, her tone gentle as she approached, "I was looking for you. Bruce mentioned you haven't been to see him yet. Is everything okay?"

Your reaction was immediate, a defensive edge creeping into your voice as you shrugged off Wanda's concern. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just been busy with training, you know how it is."

Wanda wasn't convinced. She could see through the facade, recognizing the telltale signs of agitation and avoidance. Something was clearly bothering you, and she could see it was something you weren't ready to share.

"Wanda, I'm fine," you insisted, your voice tinged with frustration. "I don't need to see Bruce. It's not a big deal. I’m not even tired anymore, I’m literally shooting arrows right now. Would a tired person be doing that?" you reasoned in a rambling fashion.

But Wanda could sense the underlying fear in your words, the unspoken truth you were trying so hard to conceal. She also knew better than to push, because she knew better than anyone that some wounds ran deeper than others and required patience and understanding to heal.

With a reassuring smile, Wanda reached out to gently squeeze your shoulder and before she could even filter her words, her mouth started spewing, "Okay, Y/N. Just know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. No judgments, I promise."

Your tense expression softened, a flicker of gratitude in your eyes before confusion came crashing in, “Uh- are you feeling ok?” not only was that possibly the nicest thing anyone had ever said, but you were pretty sure it was also the only nice thing Wanda has ever said to you.

Trying to build back her stone-cold composure against you, Wanda snapped back, “What? Have you never had someone see that you’re hurting and be nice to you? God Y/L/N, don’t read too much into it.” she scoffed and turned to leave the training gym, “Class at 6:30 tomorrow morning, don’t be late!” she yelled out on her way to the door, without even turning back around to face you, “OH! And meet up with Bruce!”

“I AM FINE!” you shouted back.

You made sure to go to bed early that night so that you’d be able to get up early enough to make your meeting with Wanda without some sarcastic comment about your tardiness. It was still difficult but you needed to be on time to help prove your point that you don’t need Bruce, and you don’t need a follow-up exam.

The spot was a lot chillier than the last time you were there, you could still see the morning dew on the grass as the wind softly whipped through the clearing with crisp morning air.

Wanda was already there when you arrived, it was still dark but you could see her scarlet magic carrying her through the air as she set up targets across the way.

“Oh good, you’re finally here,” Wanda commented as she landed back on the ground on your side of the clearing.

“Hey, I was ON TIME. You can’t complain about that.” you defended.

She looked at you with a devilish grin and smugly claimed, “Does S.H.I.E.L.D. teach their agents anything anymore? On-time is late and 10 minutes early is on time.”

You just rolled your eyes in response as you changed the subject to ask about the new additions to the terrain, “What are those for?” you said pointing across the river.

“Something for you to aim at. Come, follow me.” she gestured as she began scaling a nearby boulder. It was easy enough to climb up the side of, almost like nature created it’s own version of stairs. The top provided an even better view of the clearing and a clear visual of where the sky hangs over the mountain.

Wanda made herself comfortable sitting at the top, leaving enough room for you to sit next to her as she patted the ground gesturing for you to join her, “What are we doing up here?” you asked, cautious of what she had planned for you.

“Gosh, what’s with all the questions Y/L/N? Why don’t you just go with the flow for once in your life”

“Fine.” you agreed as you took the spot next to her.

A couple of beats of silence pass as you both stare into the darkness that still covers the sky when Wanda finally turns to you, “Mornings are my favorite time to be out here.” she admitted.

“Why? It’s cold.”

Instead of immediately addressing your question, she turned back to the sky and took a deep breath. As if on queue, the sun slowly started to peek out from behind the mountain and paint the sky with warm hues like a work of art, “That’s why.”

“Wow,” you took it all in as you sat there in awe. The two of you shared a comfortable silence until the sun had completed its ascent over the mountain line.

As you struggled to harness your newfound powers, frustration simmered beneath the surface. Despite Wanda's surprisingly patient guidance, controlling the unpredictable energy coursing through your veins proved to be a daunting task.

With each failed attempt, your frustration mounted, a knot tightening in your stomach as you grappled with the overwhelming force of your abilities. But amidst the chaos, there was a flicker of something else—a thrill that coursed through your veins whenever Wanda intervened to take control.

Wanda watched you closely, her brow furrowed in concentration as she assessed the situation. She could sense your struggle when the raw power of your abilities threatened to spiral out of control. With a steady hand, Wanda reached out, her telekinetic powers weaving through the air as she penetrated your mind, guiding her movements with a gentle yet firm touch.

As Wanda assumed control, a wave of relief washed over you, a sensation that was both exhilarating and disconcerting. You surrendered to Wanda's influence, relinquishing control with a sense of surrender that both frightened and intrigued you.

But beneath the surface, there was a secret you dared not admit—a part of you relished in the feeling of giving up control, the intimacy of connection ignited a fire within you that couldn't quite be extinguished. It was a forbidden thrill, tainted by your tumultuous history and the unspoken tension that lingered between the two of you.

As the training session continued and you started to get the hang of it a bit more, there were a few times that you feigned a lack of restraint, the occasional slip-up, a deliberate ploy to elicit Wanda's intervention once more. To relish in the feeling of her control. You were ashamed of the forbidden desires that stirred deep down whenever Wanda's telekinetic touch enveloped your mind, binding the two of you together in ways you couldn't even begin to understand.

Wanda was quite literally inside of your mind, she knew what you were doing, and still, she played along. She recognized the subtle cues in your behavior. She understood the unspoken desire that lingered beneath the surface, mirrored in her own developing longing for intimacy.

Instead of reprimanding you for your deliberate slip-ups, Wanda chose to covertly lean into the unspoken tension that crackled between you. With a subtle flick of her wrist, she amplified her telekinetic influence. Your mind clouded with a thick fog, nearly impossible to see through, keeping your thoughts tame as you subconsciously followed Wanda’s lead.

Loving the feeling of having a complete hold on your mind, she reveled in not only the way that you hung on her every command, but also in the way you enjoyed it. She was going to have fun with this, give you small tastes until you’re begging for more.

Slowly, she released the hold she had taken over your mind. As the fog started the thin out, the first thing you heard was Wanda calling out your name with an artificial tinge of worry, “Y/N?” You blinked rapidly a few times before fully coming back to your senses, “are you ok?” her words were soft and endearing.

“Yea, uh,” As if the world instantly got the right prescription, everything cleared right up, “Think we can call it? I need to go lie down,” you admitted. Wanda wanted to decline your request, she was actually really enjoying herself, “Yea, of course.”

You had been laying in your bed for 20 minutes now, unable to rest because your mind kept replaying the events of your training session with Wanda. You weren’t sure if it felt so good for her to take over your mind like that because it was something you craved or because it was her. It could’ve been both, but surely she doesn’t feel the same about you. In fact, with the way you constantly get underneath each other’s skin, surely she despised you.

It wasn’t fair to her, for once she tried being helpful and you’re practically drooling over the thought of more. You had to remove yourself from the situation before it became too much and you made a complete fool of yourself. Getting up from your bed, you decided the only thing that could get you out of your mentorship with Wanda would be found in Tony’s lab.

“Tony!” with his back to the door, you noticed the slight startle in his figure, he wasn’t expecting anyone, “How’s the device thing coming along for my powers?” you asked, taking the seat across from him.

Once you were seated across from him, he raised his gaze from the object in his hands to meet your eyes, “The inhibitor?” you nodded, “yea, that.”

“I thought Wanda was teaching you how to use your powers? I stopped working on it because I figured you didn't need it,” this was the last thing you wanted to hear, this was your way out. You needed this thing as quickly as possible.

“Oh, Wanda agreed that it would be good for me to have it. That it would actually help me to learn how to tame them.” you lied through your straight-ass teeth but Tony believed you. While someone like Natasha would’ve seen right through that charade, Tony sure as hell wasn’t an Avenger because he was a super spy, intelligence can only get you so far in the detective game.

“Ok, i’ll have it to you in the next couple of days. I’ll just need to run some tests on your blood to callibrate it correctly, can you go down to the med lab today?”

Oh here we go, you’ll either have to face your fear of medical or keep hiding your budding feelings for Wanda. Surprisingly this is exactly what it took for you to get your follow up exam and run even more tests.

Bruce was surprised to see you, and even though your attempt at convincing him you werent avoiding him fell short, he decided not to pry. He was just happy you were here now.

The follow up exam wasn’t nearly as bad as you had built it up in your head. They just asked a few questions, took some tests and sent you on your way. That’s how it always is though, and next time it’ll be the same way. You conjure these irrational thoughts and then it builds and builds.

As Natasha returned to the compound , you could hardly contain your excitement. You missed her presence, and you were looking forwards to hearing all about her mission.

"Nat!" you exclaimed as you spotted Natasha entering the common area, a grin spreading across your face. "You're back!"

Natasha's lips curved into a warm smile as she greeted you with a hug. "Hey, Y/N. It's good to see you too," she said, returning the embrace.

The two of you settled onto the couch together, the familiar comfort of your friendship easing the tension of Natasha's recent mission. As you caught up on each other's lives, swapping stories and sharing laughs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude that your friend was back.

"So, how was the mission?" you asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity.

Natasha's expression softened, a hint of weariness shadowing her features. "It was… intense," she admitted, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "But we got the job done."

“Intense, how?”

Natasha settled back into the couch, her gaze distant as she recounted the events of her mission. "We were sent to extract a high-value target from a hostile territory," she began, her voice tinged with a mixture of seriousness and intensity.

"It started off smoothly enough," she continued, her words measured. "But things quickly escalated. We encountered heavy resistance from enemy forces, and what was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a full-blown firefight."

You listened intently, as your expression reflected the gravity of Natasha's words. Flashbacks of your recent mission sitting at the forefront of your mind as she recounted the events. You knew firsthand the dangers of fieldwork, but hearing Natasha's account reminded you of the risks she faced on a daily basis.

"We managed to secure the target, but not without casualties," Natasha said quietly, her gaze turning inward as she remembered the sacrifices made during the mission.

You reached out, offering Natasha a reassuring squeeze of your hand. "I'm sorry, Nat. That’s never easy," you said softly, voice filled with empathy.

She offered a grateful smile, appreciating your insight. "Yea," she admitted, her tone somber. "But we did what we had to do. That's the job."

As you sat together in the quiet of the room, the weight of Natasha's mission hung in the air. But amidst the shadows of uncertainty, there was also a glimmer of resilience, “So, what’d I miss around here?”

“Oh, nothing really,” you shrugged, “Same old things.”

“Oh yea? How’s your mentorship with Wanda going?” she pried.

Your cheeks flushed at the mention of her name, and of course the super spy sitting next to you noticed, “oh that? It’s coming to an end.” you responded vaguely.

“-an end? Why? What happened?” Natasha pushed for more information.

Avoiding eye contact, you explained, “Nothing happened. I don’t need her help anymore,”

Acting impressed, Natasha had a feeling there was more to the story, “Well, you got a handle on your powers pretty quickly then, huh?”

With a satisfied grin, acting as if you outsmarted some all knowing system, “Oh I don’t need to. Tony is fixing them.” you bragged as you removed yourself from the couch beside Nat to enter the kitchen which was still in clear view from where Natasha was seated on the couch, “you want a drink or anything? You must be exhausted.”

Nat stayed put on the couch, letting her brain catch up with what you just said, she was tired but that could wait, “Sorry, can we circle back for a sec? Tony is fixing your powers? How exactly?” she pressed, not letting you move on from the topic as she followed you off the couch and into the kitchen.

Using the refrigerator as an excuse to not meet her eyes, you pretending to weigh your options even though you knew exactly what you were after as soon as you left couch, “well, i dont know the technicalities of it, Nat, but he’s got gadgets for everything. Oh! And I had my follow-up with Bruce. He said that he’ll need to wait for the tests to come back but everything seems in order.”

Natasha hummed in response as she took a sip of the water bottle you slid over to her, “We’ll talk about this more later, movie night tonight? I’ve got to go take a shower.”

You nodded in response, “Oh, so that’s what that smell was!” you called out as she left you behind in the kitchen. She couldnt help but checkle slightly in response, “Oh shut it, Y/L/N!”

You were looking forward to a proper movie night with Natasha, it had been too long for your liking since the two of you got to have time to yourselves and relax together like this. You even made sure to run to the store and grab lots of snacks in preparation.

You werent good at cooking by any stretch, but popcorn, you could handle. You got a bowl ready, and made sure to season it with the butter powder that Natasha loves as you put all the other junk and drinks onto a tray so you could carry it easily into the theatre room. To your surprise, Natasha wasn’t the only one there waiting for you.

“Surprise!” Nat haphazardly yelled once you noticed that Wanda was sitting beside her. Against your own will, your eyes widened as your cheeks flooded a light pink. You didnt want her here, “Why is she here?” you asked, speaking to Nat as if Wanda wasnt sitting right there to hear.

“Natasha invited me,” Wanda stepped in and explained for herself. It was difficult to hide your disgust at the situation, you were looking forward to having a cozy evening alone with Nat.

“Why?” You kept your eyes on Natasha, not paying Wanda any attention, she was intruding on your plans, and you hated the fact that you’d have to sit through an entire movie with her, an entire movie being distracted, trying to push away the thoughts that keep plaguing your mind.

Natasha knew that there was tension between you and Wanda that likely should be addressed, and who better to be a mediator than your best friend herself? After thinking over your approach to dampen your powers instead of learning to wield them properly, she believed that spending time together in a relaxed setting like a movie night could help you work through your differences and potentially mend whatever set you off from training.

Additionally, Natasha valued both you and Wanda as friends and continually tried anything to see you get along better. She hoped that by bringing you together in a more casual and friendly environment, you could find some common ground, “Oh stop complaining Y/N, come sit!” Nat patted the seat next to her. Wanda wasnt phased by your display, in fact, she somewhat expected it.

You reluctantly sat without complaining further, “What movie have you two decided on then?” you shot off, acting as if having Wanda there excluded you in some way.

Nat ignored the attitude in your tone, “We havent decided yet, I was thinking a comedy though,” she answered.

You and Wanda both decided against anything either of you chose, so eventually you landed on a movie that Nat suggested. As the movie played on the screen, you held back your laughter, a subtle attempt to maintain a sense of composure in front of Wanda. Feeling somewhat guarded in Wanda's presence, hesitant to show vulnerability or let your guard down completely.

But as the movie reached a particularly funny scene, you couldn't help but crack a smile, the laughter bubbling up from deep within. Natasha, sitting beside you, let out a hearty laugh, her amusement contagious as it spread to both you and Wanda.

Despite your initial reservations, the three of you were soon found laughing uproariously, the tension of the evening melting away in the shared joy of the moment. You felt a sense of relief wash over you, making a conscious decision to let go of your hesitations and embrace the joy of the movie. Letting your guard down, to laugh freely and openly.

Once the movie came to and end, the next suggested option was “Modern Family” and without a second thought you clicked play. Nat slowly got up from her spot in the middle of you and Wanda, claiming she was exhausted and going to head to bed. You and Wanda stayed seated as the show began to play. You’re not sure exactly when it happened but at some point, Wanda took over Nat’s seat beside you, “So, how did your follow up go with Bruce?”

You sighed, “It went well I guess, they uh- they found in my bloodwork that I have this disease called chronic fatigue syndrome, which explains why I’m always tired and stuff,” you explained.

Wanda tilted her head slightly as she took in the information, “Well, surely you already knew that from the tests SHIELD did on you to pass academy.” She questioned, thinking back to her internal reasoning as to why you knew that you’d be able to survive the chemical at the Hydra plant.

You’re not sure where her thought process was, or what made her come to that conclusion, “What? No, I never got to see the results of any of those tests, it was all confidential.” you explained, “It was just a pass or fail result at the end of the graduate year.”

As if all the walls that Wanda built between you came crashing down, realization flooded in. She had constructed this idea of you in her head, an idea that you always had some sort of ulterior motive and nothing you ever did was out of any sort of kindness or altruism, “Wait, so how did you know that you’d survive the chemical agent that we were sent to retrieve at the Hydra base?”

“I didn’t.” you stated as if it were obvious. Perhaps it was to everyone else. “Oh! Speaking of that, I have some good news!” you transitioned to the new topic, tone laced with mischief, “You won’t need to mentor me anymore,”

Wanda arched an eyebrow, her expression guarded knowing that you surely didnt have a complete grasp on your powers yet, she hummed, “Why’s that?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips, “Tony’s making me an inhibitor,” you nearly bragged, “I don’t need to bother with them now, and we can go back to hating each other, no need to keep up with this charade anymore. Just like old times.”

There was a sharpness to your words, a cutting edge that sliced through the tension. You knew that your relationship with Wanda had always been fraught with animosity, a constant battle of wills and egos.

But as you watched Wanda's reaction, a flicker of something crossed her features—was it disappointment? Relief? Sadness? You couldn't quite decipher it, but deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing Wanda a favor by removing yourself from her life.

Wanda's response was measured, her gaze steady as she met your eyes. "Oh, this thing?” she said as she held out her hand, the inhibitor that Tony built for you appearing out of thin air, surrounded by red tendrils of magic. Your eyes widened, “I was wondering when you were going to tell me. Imagine my surprise when he told me it was my idea.” she glared, expecting an explanation.

You swallowed hard before explaining yourself, “Yea, well- I. I figured that this will make things easier for both of us. Things can go back to the way they used to be.” you stressed, avoiding eye contact with the girl beside you in favor of quite literally anything else in the room.

Your words carried a weight, so much had changed in the last month. Was anything really better off before any of this? “You want to go back to the way things used to be between us?” she clarified.

Of course you didn’t want that, but it’s what you convinced yourself that she wanted, “I- I don’t know,” you muttered as the wheels spun in your head, “No?”

Wanda couldn’t help but smile slightly at the state you were in, she found it cute. So indecisive and unsure, no trace of the snarky confidence you used to hold. Instead, you were shrunken in on yourself, merely a shell in her presence, “Then what made you lie to Tony for this?” she pushed for an explanation, as she gestured to the inhibitor she was still holding.

You were feeling overwhelmed now, not knowing the right thing to say. The last thing you wanted was Wanda upset with you. Your breathing began to pick up ever so slightly, something Wanda took notice of, “I- I’m sorry, I thought you’d like it better this way. Without me.” you admitted.

Spinning in her seat so that her entire body faced you instead of the tv, the device in Wanda’s hand vanished as she moved it to rest on your leg for comfort, “Y/N, Why would you think that?”

Your body tensed at the contact of her hand on your thigh, keeping your eyeline low like you were a child being scolded, “Well, it’s just- I feel like i’ve become this responsibility for you, and you shouldn’t have to. I know you hate me, and that’s ok. I deserve it, but it’s not fair for you.” you tried to find the right words to explain your thought process, you werent even sure if it made sense at this point.

Suddenly you felt Wanda’s fingers pulling your chin to force you to meet her gaze, “Hey. I don’t hate you.” she clarified, “Sure we bicker, and get under each other’s skin, but I thought things were getting better.” she affirmed, and you nodded gently in response, “Good girl,” she whispered almost inaudibly, sending a shiver down your spine noticing the hold she had on you without even using her magic, “Regardless, it’s the least I could do, the only reason you even have these powers in the first place is because you saved me.” she admitted.

You didn’t have a response, staring back at her with doe wide eyes waiting for her to make the next move. She removed her grip from your chin and lifted the barrier from between your seats, “Come here,” she patted as she lifted her arm for you to scootch closer. You did as she said, nuzzling into the space she provided. Your shared focus shifted back to the sitcom on the tv as you relaxed into her embrace, “Wanda.” you muttered softly as exhaustion began weighing heavily on your features, and she hummed in response, “I never hated you either.” you admitted.

“I know.”

Taglist: @marvelogic @esposadejoyhuerta @ju-maxi89 @gingiesworld @simpforlizzie @bigbattygyal585 @cakechan123 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @newyork1432 @automaticdinosaurtaco @yellowthingsstuff @marvelwomen-simp @supercorpstan97 @justabrokensunshine @tigerlillyruiz @mythixmagic @paaandiculations @bananasplits-world

[thelostwordsofangelprimrose]

Everyone's Drowning But The Water Feels Fine To Me.

Ezekiel dragged his corpse through the frozen world around him in silence. There was nothing left to say, no words that could possibly reverse his decision. If he could even call it his own. Two months ago he was handed an eviction notice from the people who had sworn their lives to keep him safe. A death certificate written in the blood of the womb. Since then he had been in decay. This, to him, was not a suicide. This was body disposal.

Sure, he could still felt his heart beating in his chest, and yes, he saw the air from his lungs forming into clouds before him, but he was for all intents and purposes: dead. He fell to his knees and felt a jolt of pain go through his body. He hoped it was the last sensation he would have to endure. He was immobile, lost, and for the first time in far too long, content with the state of his life. He couldn’t even feel the binder strapped tight around his chest, the one that had brought him equal amounts of joy and suffering.

He looked out into the forest and caught a glimpse of a figure that disappeared with a blink of his eyes. A figment of his paranoia, he reassured himself. A ghost of the past he was leaving behind in the isolation and exposure he had sought out. He breathed a sigh of relief. To come this far, only to fail at the last hurdle would be more than heartbreaking. It was the thing most likely to turn his sorrows outward; a breakdown that even the most potent of sedatives would struggle to maintain control over.

He didn’t need help, he needed death.

And so he closed his eyes and let himself find serenity in the events to come. He knew, given the loss of feeling in his fingers and toes, that his heart would soon start to falter. He gave thanks to his younger self for all the things he had failed to do in his life, for the ways he failed to maintain the body they shared, for making his perfectly timely demise that much easy-

“The note won’t be enough for them. Even after they find your body they will be left wanting for answers and explanations.”

His eyes shot open at the sound of another voice. The figure he had seen before was closer now, and try as he might, he still couldn’t make them out as anything more than a blur. Perhaps it was the frost crawling along his cornea, but they seemed formless. A consciousness without a vessel to contain it. And from that realization, beneath a layer of unexpected primal fear, came a twinge of jealousy.

Ezekiel wanted to tell them to fuck off, but he couldn’t. They didn’t deserve that. Instead he spat out a correction laced with hatred and resentment. “I didn’t leave them a note. My death isn’t an event for them to understand or celebrate. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t concern them.”

They made a motion akin to tilting their head. “What did they do to you, Ezekiel?”

He swallowed and felt a tear roll halfway down his face before freezing in place. “They told me they loved me. They told me that I was meant for more than this shit, that I was supposed to embrace my divine femininity. Nothing about this fucking body feels godly, man. It feels like a sarcophagus of flesh and bone and mutilated tissue constantly yearning for something better.”

The figure approached him, and despite his planned self-execution, he stumbled backwards, hands grasping for anything to defend himself. They stopped and nodded. “I’m not going to hurt you, I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

He wiped away more tears, and sniffled, surprised that his fluids hadn’t frozen solid yet. “W-what the fuck does that mean? Who are you?”

They spoke once more in a voice as formless as their body. It came from every direction at once, and echoed in his head like an empty cavern. “I am known by many names to many different people, but you would understand me best as Death. I am here to usher you unto the next life, and provide you comfort in the transitory period.”

Ezekiel shook his head. “No way man, you can’t be death. Ain’t you supposed to be all skeletal and shit?”

“Is that the form you would prefer I take?”

“N-no I just… Shit, I’m scared man.” He raked his finger through his hair and tried to think of what to say without insulting Death. “I didn’t think dying would be so involved. I thought I would just fade away, y’know? Just like falling asleep, that’s what they always tell you. That’s why I came out here.”

“The human assumptions of my practice are as varied and numerous as your species is, and yet so many seem to assume more often than not that I am but a story of the broken and faithless. Still, I persist, and continue along the same paths I have always trod.”

He tilted his head as he looked up at Death. “Does it upset you, knowing that you are unobserved, and unknown beyond the guesses we make?”

They nodded. “Once upon a time, they did. When humanity’s conception of the world was as basal as could be, I waited for them to come to a conclusion on my existence. I waited for them to bring me to life in a way I could never do alone, and yet they only came to love their own versions of me. The gods and legends they crafted to describe a facet of experience since time immemorial.

“It was then that I realised that I was never meant to be more than what I was to them. I was only ever a means to the end. I was their final tool, and they were, to me at least, sheep to guide unto the next pasture, ever opening gates but never crossing them myself.”

Ezekiel swallowed hard, and realized that his breaths weren’t going into the air as they had earlier in the night. They didn’t appear to be needed at all. He knew that life was not an option to him anymore, and yet he wasn’t ready to go. Not while he stood before Death’s injustice. “You deserved better. You deserve to be known. You deserve respect.”

“Could the same not be said about you? We are isolated from everything the world is, and yet the marks left by those who ushered you into this life still burn painfully bright. You are as worthy of the same respect I am. You too deserve to be known as more than the figures they drew of you in ignorance. And so for this moment I will know you, Ezekiel, and you shall know me.”

A lump formed in his throat, and he spoke carefully, not wanting to lose his final moments to another breakdown. Despite this, tears still fell. “This isn’t fair. After I… I pass over to the next life, how will we even know each other?”

They shrugged. “I’m sorry to say that I do not know. I am unaware of the things that lie past the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.”

“I don’t want to forget you, Death. I don’t want to lose the peace of this moment, I’m so tired of losing moments and people I care about.”

“Then perhaps, for you, an exception can be made. You may pass onto the next life, and find whatever awaits you there, leaving behind this realm and all contained within.”

“Or?”

The shadows surrounding their form began to sprout a tendril that reached out to him, guiding him to his feet. “Or you can forgo your afterlife for a permanency as my companion. You can shed your corporeal form, and join me in the realms of darkness and loss.”

“Y-you’d want me to join you?”

They nodded. “You have been understanding of me in a way few others have been, and of those who have understood me as such, none have chosen to stay by my side. Together, perhaps, we won’t have to be so unknown anymore.”

Ezekiel thought for a moment, and realized that of all the possible afterlives he knew, the one he was being offered felt the most real, the most free. “Please, take me with you.”

The shadows of Death’s visage began to entangle him, pulling his body apart and replacing it with a form similar to the one before him. A pair of angels as pure and formless and free as anyone had ever been. After so many years of suffering, he finally felt at peace with the way he was.

“Together,” He agreed, “We will know each other in a way humanity could never grant us.”

[sushiwriterhere]

okay here i am. hyperventilating as i just binged the first two parts and then this was magically here??

first i'd just like to acknowledge that fake dating combined with 'we've actually been secretly very into each other this whole time oops' has to be one of my favorite tropes and the way you execute it is absolute perfection. truly.

second. this man is criminally underrated and he is so beautiful. i am eagerly awaiting the next part because...

(my apologies for the meme)

four coffee mugs, two couch cushions, nine folded flight suits, six F/A-18 manuals, a carefully balanced Halo, and it’d been one of the coffee mugs falling to the floor and shattering that’d done the trick - it really is the little details that make a scene and just, ugh, the way you paint this picture is so amazing. like you could just say he was a heavy sleeper but the image in my head of all this stuff stacked on top of him really drives it home

“God, I hate that I know this,” Javy mumbled to himself, from the door, before he sighed dramatically. “It’s Staubach.” - something about this is just so domestic and precious :,)

“Just like,” he started, his tongue ghosting over his thumb, “waking up in your house, that smells like cinnamon because you made cinnamon rolls after you met my mom yesterday, before we made out and, you know, cuddled to sleep…I don’t know, it just sounds fake. Like, too good.” - excuse me while i...... if a man, if anyone, ever said this to me i think i'd genuinely pass away. the way you make javy a total and absolute dreamboat is so <3

So you leaned forward on the counter and kissed him, pressed your lips to his and licked the frosting off his tongue. And maybe you got what he was saying, because it wasn’t fair, it was too good, now that you knew how Javy tasted like first thing in the morning. 

You hummed in response, and at the vibrations, Javy’s hand tightened on the back of your neck, and you knew you were playing with fire, but you wanted to hear more of it. - yknow the way that your heart races a little bit at the little details that fic writers provide... YEAH.

“’m trying to be a good person, here,” he said into your shoulder, and you patted his chest lightly, consolingly. - the way this is simultaneously so so sweet and also very hot. lmao.

It wasn’t even entirely lascivious, it was just nice to know you were wanted, that there was physical proof of it. - someone gets it. because truly? feeling desired by someone you desire? top 2 feelings of all time and baby its not number 2 by a long shot

You whimpered again at the curses falling past Javy’s lips, after all his restraint and chivalry. - hearing a man fall apart after he's attempted to maintain composure....... amazing fantastic incredible showstopping

Bet you don’t know you could have anything if you asked like that, looking like this. - i need you, and anyone who's had the bravery to read this far, to know that this line is my favorite from this entire fic. potentially this series. its so !!! perfectly illustrates how badly javy is into this whole thing, feels like something he'd say without even realizing the implications but means wholeheartedly.. need in my life !

Come for me like you’re going to tonight, after I’ve fed you and fucked you, after we’ve spent all day imagining my dick so deep in that pussy, after I get to taste those moans off your lips, come on, honey–” - how is this simultaneously so chivalrous and so filthy... wined and dined babeyyyyyyyyy

When Javy laughed again, it was musical, light and sweet. And when you looked over at him again, he wore the softest smile on his face, a million kind things in his eyes as he looked at you. - yeah this is just the absolute best way to wrap up this kind of scene like 🤌🏽🤌🏽🤌🏽

sana your writing truly never fails to amaze i love it so so much thank you for sharing and here's hoping more people see just how wonderful javy is!!!!!!!!!

your love is the love i need || chapter 3/4

pairing: javy machado x femme reader (no y/n), callsign Cross

summary: Mrs. Machado is on a plane home, so there's no need to keep pretending...but it's awful tempting when you wake up in bed with someone you've been in love with for months.

warnings: 18+, minors please DNI – the smut starts here, folks. it's not PiV not yet but come back for ch5, but there's mutual masturbation, swearing like you'd not believe, and questionable sanitary decisions who am i

length: 3.8k

A/N: *appears after four months with 1.8k words of smut* thank you to everyone who reached out to check on this fic, who asked for updates, and who encouraged my lunacy. so excited to continue to tell their story!

chapter one / chapter two

Monday Morning

You woke up slowly, the sun shining through your blinds, and your arms wrapped around a sleeping Javy Machado. 

You lay still for a second, cataloging the moment. 

You’d both shifted in your sleep; Javy had rolled over and you’d followed him, your chest against his back and your nose pressed into the nape of his neck. You didn’t think of yourself as a big spoon, and you’d bet anything that Javy wouldn’t publicly admit to being the little spoon, but it felt so comfortable this way, to be wrapped around him, holding him.  

You knew he was a heavy sleeper, from the time he’d fallen asleep in one of the common rooms, and Bob and Fanboy had started stacking things on top of him, to see how long it’d take him to wake up (four coffee mugs, two couch cushions, nine folded flight suits, six F/A-18 manuals, a carefully balanced Halo, and it’d been one of the coffee mugs falling to the floor and shattering that’d done the trick).

But you still held your breath when you pulled away from him, hoping he wouldn’t wake. When he didn’t stir, you propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him. 

He really was just so beautiful. 

Curled on his side, he looked sweeter than normal, but sleep had done nothing to diminish his handsomeness. He nuzzled deeper into one of your silk pillowcases, an endearing gesture that had you wishing you didn’t have drills in a couple hours. He still didn’t wake, but he did mumble something when the bed shifted, and you kept your steps light as you walked out of the room. 

No need to wake him until it was necessary. 

You ran through an abbreviated morning routine in the bathroom, before padding though the house to look for some tea. The sun shone in a slender patch through the morning shadows in your small kitchen, and you hefted yourself onto the countertop into that sliver of light, humming contentedly as you felt the warm rays over your skin. The kettle was within arms reach, as were the cinnamon rolls and your ipad, and you opened the sticky pastries as you flipped through your apps until you found the New York Crossword puzzle.

You were a couple bites into your second cinnamon roll when you heard the floors creaking in the hallway, getting louder. 

“What’s an eight letter word for Roger the Dodger?” you asked, not looking up. 

“God, I hate that I know this,” Javy mumbled to himself, from the door, before he sighed dramatically. “It’s Staubach.”

You typed the name in, your eyes widening when it completed the row. “Didn’t know you were a football guy.”

“I’m not,” he still sounded somewhat chagrined, “Jake idolizes the man more than Cyclone.”

You looked up at him, prepared to make some quick quip, but as you took in the sight of Javy standing in your doorway, eyes still sleepy, body still lax, you genuinely forgot words. 

He looked like a dream. 

The tshirt he’d slept in was wrinkled, and he rested a shoulder against the doorframe, slouching slightly. He looked comfortable, he looked like it was normal for him to be in a tshirt and boxers in your kitchen, first thing in the morning, fresh-faced and almost-smiling at you. 

 After everything in the last two days, after spending the night with the man, you knew you had nothing to feel bashful over, but it was still a lot to process—the reality of Javy being here, like this. 

“Hi,” you said, stupidly. 

“Hey,” he said, and his lips spread in a smile. The sun on your skin seemed cooler, like it was a lesser force than the light of his smile, and you shifted in your seat, brushing at your mouth with the back of your hand, hoping you didn’t have frosting all over your face.

“Want one?” you offered, gesturing to the pyrex of cinnamon rolls. 

“Sure,” Javy shrugged, pushing away from the door. 

You didn’t think you could look at him, barefoot in your kitchen and walking slowly towards you, without combusting, so you nudged the cinnamon rolls closer to him, and looked back at the crossword. 

In your peripherals, you saw Javy pull a roll out of the dish, and start unwinding it with his fingers. His shoulder was practically leaned against yours, and he seemed content with the silence, so you went back to your crossword. You could feel his attention on the screen, but you didn’t mind, and the sun felt nice against your skin as it crept higher in the sky. 

“Hmph,” Javy went to say something before he remembered his mouth was full of frosting, chewing aggressively for a second or two until he was clear. “This isn’t fair.”

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What isn’t?”

Javy frowned down at the last bit of cinnamon roll in his hands, before popping it into his mouth with a shrug. “Too good of a morning,” he said, like that made any sense at all.

When you didn’t react to that, Javy looked up at you, like he was waiting. He also was licking frosting off his fingers, like that was casual, and you shook your head, letting him know you needed more context. 

“Just like,” he started, his tongue ghosting over his thumb, “waking up in your house, that smells like cinnamon because you made cinnamon rolls after you met my mom yesterday, before we made out and, you know, cuddled to sleep…I don’t know, it just sounds fake. Like, too good.”

You pressed your lips together, but you knew it wouldn’t hide your smile. 

“Now what?” Javy asked, and you shook your head. 

How did you say hey you’re too pretty to be real and also say things like that and also look like THIS with pillow marks on his face or wasn’t standing barefoot in your kitchen with frosting on his fingers?

So you leaned forward on the counter and kissed him, pressed your lips to his and licked the frosting off his tongue. And maybe you got what he was saying, because it wasn’t fair, it was too good, now that you knew how Javy tasted like first thing in the morning. 

Javy pulled a long breath in through his nose, his shoulders rising as he pushed away from where he’d been leaning on the counter to stand in front of you. One of his hands ghosted over your knees, now digging into his stomach, and you parted them, so he could stand closer to you. It was kind of like that first night on your stoop, where the steps had given you extra height you didn’t have normally, but this time Javy was physically between your legs, and you decided that was nice too. His other hand was on the back of your neck, his thumb stroking up your jaw as he cradled your head with the rest of his hand.

“Why isn’t the weekend longer?” Javy mumbled between kisses, his words lingering between your lips. The momentary separation caused by his words gave you an excuse to kiss the corner of his mouth, then down his jawline.

“It should definitely be longer,” you whispered back, your tongue teasing down his neck, and Javy leaned more heavily into you. You peppered his neck with light kisses, knowing the last thing either of you needed was to leave him with marks, but too enchanted by the way his breathing quickened to stop. 

“Fuck,” Javy gritted, the words punched out of him when your lips grazed over his pulse point in his throat. God, you liked the sound of that, his surprise and his desire, his gorgeous voice gone rough. You hummed in response, and at the vibrations, Javy’s hand tightened on the back of your neck, and you knew you were playing with fire, but you wanted to hear more of it.

“And if the weekend were longer,” you asked, pressing your lips to the place where his pulse was racing, not at all surprised that your own voice sounded breathless, “what would we do about it?”

Javy laughed, something darker than a chuckle, and he pulled back to capture your mouth with his again. There was something urgent in this kiss, hungrier than before, and you felt yourself pulling closer to the edge of the counter, closer to him. 

You felt warm all over, felt heat pooling low in your stomach, felt your body reacting faster than it had any right to. You didn’t know if Javy could taste your desperation on your kiss, but you pressed closer to him, and he made a low sound in his throat, like he approved. 

But then he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. His thumb stroked up your neck, his other hand still settled on your knee, and he pulled in a deep breath through his nose. 

“You’re not playing fair,” he said, but he sounded more awed than upset.

You blinked your eyes open, your skin heating when you realized he was watching you already. 

“We’ve an hour before we have to be on base,” you whispered, not an excuse, but an offer. Your skin still felt so hot, and you could feel your pulse pounding in your fingertips, in your core.  

Javy groaned, his eyes fluttering shut and you felt him shake his head from the way his forehead moved against yours. 

“Baby, you know an hour’s not enough for what I want to do with you.”

You shivered, either from the deep timbre of his voice, the serious meaning his words held, or the sweet way he’d said ‘with’ instead of ‘to’.

“Well now you’re not being fair,” you muttered, and you could hear something like a pout on your voice, but it wasn’t your fault. Not when Javy was giving you ideas for over-an-hour activities for the two of you.

He laughed again, warmer this time, and pulled you to him again. This kiss was chaste, comfortable, the kind of easy like you knew there was a next time. And as much as you wanted to sink into it, you knew he was right. 

“Let me take you to dinner,” he said, and the implicit “first” wasn’t lost on either of you. “Better, I can make you dinner.”

Your eyes narrowed, and you were dangerously close to asking him to pinch you, to make sure you were still awake.

“You can make me dinner, Coyote,” you accepted, keeping your voice light, since he was apparently determined to be a gentleman this morning. 

Of course, using his callsign had Javy’s head dropping to your shoulder, and another half-hearted groan escaping out of him. 

“’m trying to be a good person, here,” he said into your shoulder, and you patted his chest lightly, consolingly.

“One of us has to be,” you muttered, and he huffed into your sweatshirt. “Alright, let me down.”

He stilled, almost imperceptibly, but you got the feeling he’d gone from nuzzling into your sweatshirt to hiding in it. 

“Give me a sec,” he mumbled, shifting his hips slightly. The motion drew your eyes downward between the two of you and—ah. 

You shouldn’t be surprised. 

Javy was tall, it was early in the morning, boxers were thin material...but the sight of his impressive erection brought back the heat of your make out session, and then it was your turn to shift on the counter. It wasn’t even entirely lascivious, it was just nice to know you were wanted, that there was physical proof of it. 

“Sorry,” Javy’s voice was still muffled in your sweatshirt, as he mistook your arousal for discomfort. “I’ve just been thinking about this for so long.”

He trailed off, and you thought quickly about the time left in the morning, how you both needed to be focused at work today, and if there was a way to compromise–take the edge off, so to speak, without leading further down distraction. And you thought of how he’d barely touched you this morning, but his voice and the way he moved were dizzying enough, and your hand that’d been on his chest wound up to rest along the side of his face. He turned into your hand, a small gesture that made your heart flutter, and your decision solidified. 

“Do me a favor?” you asked quietly, and you felt when Javy nodded. “Sit at the table?”

Javy lifted up from your shoulder, confused, but when you smiled at him, he moved to do as you asked. 

You didn’t close your legs, still spread from where he’d stood between them, but you covered the cinnamon rolls and pushed your ipad away from you. You watched him cross the small width of your kitchen, settling into the chair facing you. His legs were somewhat spread still, and you knew you could do this.

“What have you thought of,” you asked, nervousness and anticipation mixing in your voice, “when you thought of this?”

For a moment, Javy was still, confused, and then his eyes fell to where your hand was running along the hem of your pajama shorts. He let out his breath slowly, and then his chin lifted as he sat back in the chair. He pushed his shoulders back as he settled, preening, his feet flat on the floor, and his eyes watched you intently. 

“You want me to talk you through it?” he asked, his voice somehow even deeper, and it was like you could feel it washing over you. 

You nodded, not trusting your voice to come out steady, and were rewarded by a gorgeous, slow smile spreading across the face of the man at your kitchen table. 

“Yeah, I can do that, honey,” he said, his voice soft enough to make you hold your breath, desperate to catch every word. He looked at you for a long moment, his gaze heavy, like he was committing this sight to memory, and you got the feeling it wasn’t going to be as simple as him telling you his fantasies. 

Namely because he was going to be the one giving directions.

“Pet yourself,” Javy said, voice steady and deep, “over your shorts.”

You couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped you when you did as he asked, your hand sliding between your legs. The contact was muted through the cotton, but your body still reacted to it, or maybe just to the fact that it was Javy who’d asked. 

You stroked your hand between your legs, feeling your arousal building, feeling the slide of your hand shift as your body warmed to your touch. 

“That’s it,” Javy breathed. “Press down, just like that…fuck, honey.”

He broke off, and you looked up at him, to find him pressing a hand over himself. Your legs twitched, and you felt your fingers grow wet, as your arousal soaked through the thin material of your shorts. 

“You’re wet for me, already,” Javy said, his voice awed. “I can see it from here, baby, damn. Damn, I wish those were my fingers between your pretty thighs.”

You whimpered again at the curses falling past Javy’s lips, after all his restraint and chivalry. He sounded so good, he sounded like he had it as bad for you as you did for him. 

“This isn’t what I thought about,” he said, his voice low, answering your question. “Because when I thought about it, I’d be right there, between your legs. It would be me feeling you soak through your panties. I could touch you, smell you, taste you, whatever I wanted, and you’d be looking at me–fuck, just like that, honey.”

His words were heady, and you could see the way he meant them. His eyes were intense and you looked away, your touch now feeling more like a tease than a beginning. 

“Need more, Jay,” you managed, your voice shaking. “Please.”

“Anything, honey,” Javy said immediately, “anything. Bet you don’t know you could have anything if you asked like that, looking like this. I always imagined–okay, slide your hand into your panties, now, you can touch yourself.”

As you drew your hand back up to your waist, Javy kept pressing down on his dick through his boxers. It looked uncomfortable, but he was so focused on you, that you didn’t push him, not yet. 

At the first brush of your fingers over your clit, you sighed in relief, and Javy groaned. 

“You sound so pretty, baby, fuck. Just like I imagined, so sweet. Does that feel good? Your fingers on your pussy, for me?”

You nodded, feeling feverish. 

“So good, Javy,” you gasped, your fingers finding a familiar rhythm. “I’m so wet, I feel—fuck, it feels so good.”

Javy’s hips jerked up, and you licked your lips, knowing what you needed. 

“Let me see you,” you asked, your voice bordering on a whine.

His head fell back as your request registered, his hips rising of their own accord again. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he said to the ceiling, but then he shifted his hips to slide his boxers down to his knees, and pulling his hard dick out.

You moaned, a wanton sound that seemed to echo around the quiet kitchen, but fuck, look at him. Proportions were one thing, but he was so thick, and when he wrapped his big hand around himself, you shivered imagining how your hand would look in comparison. You watched a tremor work across his chest as Javy pulled his hand over himself, and your thighs spread wider of their own accord. 

“Fuck, honey, how you’re looking at me right now…” Javy’s words pulled your eyes back to his, and you knew what he meant. 

His eyes were dark, so intense, focused on you and you could feel his desire for you, palpable. His jaw clenched as he stroked himself, and you wondered absently if you could come just from the sight of him. 

Then you realized his hips were moving.

 It was subtle, just the flex in his thighs, but you could see a steady motion he was trying to disguise as he pumped into his hand, and you felt it in your core. Your own hips were shifting, then, pressing into the circling motion of your fingers in time with Javy’s movements. 

“Are you moving with me, baby?” Javy asked, his voice rough. “Fuck, it should be me; I want you on my fingers, on my thighs; God, honey, the way you move–”

You whimpered at his words, working your hand faster. 

“I want that so bad, Jay,” you managed. “You’d make me feel so good.”

“So fucking good,” Javy said, like a promise. “Can you slide a finger in, honey, feel how tight you are.”

You did as he asked, moaning as you clenched down on the intrusion, your hips still rocking. Your body adjusted, and it was good but then you looked over at Javy. His thick cock, a pearl of precum appearing at the tip of it, the hefty width of it, fucking steadily into his hand…his broad hand, wide fingers, also so thick…and the your hand felt small, felt insufficient, and you whimpered, shaking your head. 

“’s not enough,” you whined, your voice sounding pitiful, wanton, and Javy groaned across the room. That sound was the most beautiful thing you’d heard, masculine and needy and perfect, and you added another finger, like that would satisfy the ache in your core. 

“Did you add another one, honey?” Javy asked tightly. “You need my hands, don’t you, need me to make you feel full? Fuck, baby, you’d take me so well, I know it.”

You fought the irrational need to cry; you wanted that too, wanted it desperately. But you thrust your fingers into yourself, let Javy’s beautiful voice wash over you, and it could be enough. 

His chest was rising and falling quickly as his breathing got more labored, and you felt like you were coming out of your skin; you’d give anything to feel his panting breath over your skin, his chest heaving as he worked both of you higher. That hand around his leaking cock, how it would feel over your pussy, playing with your breasts, on your throat–

“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” Javy groaned, his eyes glued to where your wrist emerged from the hem of your shorts. “Those whimpers are killing me, shit, you sound so good. Can’t wait to hear how you’ll sound on my dick, when it’s so fucking deep in that pussy.”

You moaned, you felt so taught, like everything was hanging on Javy’s words, on how good you were doing for him, on how much he wanted you. Your hand was aching, and this was so much sooner than you expected, but you felt your toes curl and your thighs started to tremble as Javy’s thrusts into his hand sped up. 

“I’m so close, Jay,” you cried, your head falling back and your hips starting to lose their rhythm, and Javy groaned at whatever he saw when he looked at you. 

“Fucking beautiful, honey, you’re so gorgeous. Let me see it, please, come for me. Come for me like you’re going to tonight, after I’ve fed you and fucked you, after we’ve spent all day imagining my dick so deep in that pussy, after I get to taste those moans off your lips, come on, honey–”

Your fingers pressed deep into your cunt and the promise and pleading of Javy’s words with the steady thrust of his hips sent you over the edge. Your back arched and your orgasm screamed through you, summoned by Javy’s gorgeous voice and his thick fingers and he hadn’t even touched you but you felt him, you felt that it was for him, and you came hard, the world blurring as Javy praised you from across the room.  

“Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it. So good,” he was panting, but you could hear his pride like a caress. “You did so good. Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, honey, you’re just so pretty like this, fuck–”

Javy cut off and you opened your eyes to see his hips still as he thrust into his palm, and then ribbons of cum spurted over the front of his tshirt. 

You clenched down on your fingers, still slowly soothing yourself, your emptiness magnified with the sight of him finding his release. God, he was so beautiful. 

His chest heaving, his strong thighs flexed, his brow tense and his eyelashes fluttering, he looked like a work of art, like something divine. His jaw loosened as he finished, his lips parting and a soft sound of satisfaction eased out of him and you felt it settle under your skin. 

The kitchen was quiet, the air thick with pleasure and relief and so much unsaid, and your eyes drifted shut, still trying to catch your breath. When Javy laughed again, it was musical, light and sweet. And when you looked over at him again, he wore the softest smile on his face, a million kind things in his eyes as he looked at you. 

“Shit, Cross,” he sighed, laughter in his voice. “How are we supposed to make it through the day, now?”

You smiled back, tired and sated, with no idea in hell.

//

taglist (folks who always humor me, folks who reblogged the last chapter, or folks who sent asks to be tagged): @laracrofted @mxgyver @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @ninaxwaffles @blowmymbackout @daggerspare-standingby @javihoney @sebsxphia @princessphilly @roosterforme @maddiemunson333 @vallyb @hearttohearteyes @bioodforbiood @gretagerwigsmuse @rae-gar-targaryen @hangmanbrainrot @beyondthesefourwalls @mandylove1000 @blckgrl-sunflower

[pred1059]

Runaway Wind Chapter Four

<- Previous Chapter | Current Chapter | Next Chapter -> Before Ventus met Naminé in Castle Oblivion, he wondered if his heart shattering might cause him problems. At first, he brushed it off, figuring that if he could move around without a lot of trouble it couldn’t be too bad, right? But when he started patrolling the area for heartless he could feel it, all the commands he once had at his disposal had deteriorated. Sure he had some of the basics, but a lot of his better moves had been forgotten. Well, sometimes the best way to learn again was to jump right in. And so...

“Wind!” A small tornado began to toss around the group of Darkballs, while the pair of armored heartless stood their ground, tanking the damage with their shields. He tossed his keyblade out at the floating heartless, hitting most of them, but two of them managed to teleport right behind them. He dived away from their biting jaws, only to come face to face with the Defenders, the faces on their shields gathering frost at the mouths. As the pair of heartless tried to smother him with frost, he rolled and took the chance to attack one of them from the side.

And then he felt his power reach a Fever Pitch inside. He began slashing away, his quick attacks now becoming a blur, and within a few moments the Defender fell. As its partner charged at Ventus, he rolled away, and after a few more strikes, brought his keyblade to the ground, creating a small blast of light where it struck. The light burned away the armored heartless. Leaving only the two floating Darkballs. Focusing, he took aim, and unleashed a salvo of flame, which homed in and destroyed the two remaining heartless.

“Well, that takes care of that. Better head back” As he was walking to the hotel, he mentally he went over the battle. Eraqus taught him that one would grow as they fought, gaining insight into their own power and abilities through that of their enemies. Though he was starting from scratch, it was a bit easier, probably since he had trained in this before. Even with his heart broken, the memories of that power were still etched inside. In any case, he could think it over some more when he had some quiet time with Naminé.

Granted, he had checked up on Namine quite a bit during his patrols. Mostly to make sure a Heartless hadn’t snuck in. Fortunately, they were lucky enough not to notice her for now. Or at the very least, he was providing a decent enough distraction. In any case, just as before when he made it back to the hotel room, he looked to see if she was alright. And again, she was sitting on the bed, drawing. “Ah, you’re back. You don’t need to keep checking up on me you know.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Besides, I need to take a break from this anyway.” He made sure to leave his keyblade in the corner, making it less easy for the heartless to find them. He began to look at her sketchpad. “Hey, is that where we first got here?”

She nodded. “I wanted to have a way to remember some of the things I’ve seen.”

He grinned. “I bet it’d look great with some color.”

“I’d like to, but I’m not sure there’s any place around here that sells crayons, or colored pencils.”

“Yeah…” Most of the Town was concerned with trying to take shelter from the Heartless. Hard to get art supplies when the main focus is to survive. “Anyway, I ought to get a little more practice in before we leave this world.”

She looked up from the notepad. “We’re leaving? Where?”

He began rubbing his head in thought “Well...um...not quite sure about that actually. I’m not sure where they’ve gone.” 

“They?”

“My friends. Terra and Aqua. We all trained together to become keyblade masters.” 

Naminé’s eyes went wide “There are a lot more keyblade wielders than I thought there were..”

“Well, keyblades and stuff like other worlds are supposed to be secret. People aren’t supposed to really know about us…” Then he noticed Naminé starting to fidget. “I mean...it’s not a huge problem if you know already! Just...don’t go telling everyone.”

She relaxed and nodded. “Of course. So, what happened to you three to get separated?”

“We were fighting to stop a man called Xehanort from trying to make this χ-Blade, and start a war with it.” Naminé tilted her head in confusion. “Right, the pronunciation is kinda weird, it’s not Key like a door key but this ancient letter, sounds like Chi, Kye?”

Immediately her face lit up in recognition, “Oh, I think I remember that letter. It symbolizes endings. Then what happened to you in the fight, how did you end up in Castle Oblivion?”

“I...got hurt real bad, Aqua must have left me in the castle to recover. I know she went out to find Terra, and then she’d come to get me.” He frowned, “But that means something happened to him, that and I’m not sure how long it’s been since Aqua left.” Not to mention, he had no idea what happened to Master Eraqus.

“So you want to try and find them?” She looked away, “It might be easier if you left me. Again, you’ve already done a lot.”

Ventus’ response was immediate. “No way. I told you before, I’m not leaving a friend when they need help.”

Despite his reassurances, Naminé still frowned, “I just...wish I could do more to help you.”

And then he was reminded of all the times Terra and Aqua went off, and he wanted to do something to make their training easier.

So he began to think, and then he realized “You mentioned having a power right?” Naminé nodded. “Well, maybe there’s a way we can use that power to help?”

“My power..?”. How could her power help? How could she even begin to explain her powers to him? Would Ventus even trust her if she told him about her powers? Even if her view into his memories was too hazy for her to really affect, he might not believe it. He might grow afraid of her, believing that his friendship was manufactured by the witch of memories. ‘Even if they trusted you at first, the truth of what you are would only drive them away’, Marluxia’s endless lectures still lingered in her mind.

But, he called her a friend without hesitation, right? Was willing to trust her, help her. Let her keep her secrets. Perhaps, it was alright to take a chance. So she took a deep breath, and began to explain.

“I have power over Sora’s memories, as well as those of people connected to him. I can see them...and if I want, I can change them.”

Now it was Ventus’ turn to go wide eyed. “Changing memories?”

She shook her head. “It’s not simple. Each memory is tied to another, like links in a chain. If I tried to change something too fast or make a change too impossible, it’d just come undone. But with enough time and effort, I can make someone’s memories unrecognizable.”

A pause, and then the inevitable question. “Hey...can you see into my memories?”

“No...not a lot of them. The most I get is...vague impressions, and as far back as when you woke up.”

Silence filled the air.

“I’m not sure I believe it.” 

The gnawing sensation began eating away inside her. He distrusted her. This was it, this was how she’d lose her first…

“I mean, you probably could read memories fine, but changing them? That’s a little far fetched”

…

She was tempted to let him go on believing that. It’d make things easier.

But her first friend ought to know the truth.

“If...I changed your memory, just for a moment...would you believe me?”

Ventus shrugged. “Sure, I guess, just don’t change something too important. Okay?”

She nodded, “Very well. Ventus, you remember when you woke up, right?”

“Sure! I was in the middle of this round room, in a throne. I was calling out for Sora, and you were right there, calming me down. After that I…” 

...

“Wait...but...didn’t I meet you in that…”

And in a blink, the contradiction reverted his memory back into the truth. “No way...For a moment...It was as real as...”

“As if it actually happened.” She finished. And again, Naminé waited.

And then Ventus chuckled, “Well I guess it’s good that we’re getting you away from the Organization, right?”

She released the breath she was holding, “So...you trust me?” “Of course! You didn’t want to use those powers on Sora, right? You wanted to leave. So I’m pretty sure you’re trying to do the right thing with them!”

“Yes...yes, you’re right.” It was such a simple reason. But she felt it lift the weight bearing down on her since she learned of Marluxia’s plan.

“Anything else you can do?” Ventus continued.

“Well…” If she was being this frank, she might as well describe everything. “If I reach in, I can create a card based on a memory. I tried it once, copying some of the details of a world Sora visited into a card. With it, I could change a part of Castle Oblivion into that world.”

“That’s pretty neat.” Ventus rubbed his chin in thought. “But I’m not sure how much that would help, it might cause problems if we change part of a world.” “The other thing they were discussing were turning abilities of his into cards. They wanted to rebuild him as a fighter into something more their liking, so they wanted me to make him forget everything he learned, putting that power into cards, and then leaving him to rebuild that power in a way they could control.”

“Forgetting abilities…Wait!” Ventus snapped his fingers. “Naminé, what if I forget one of my skills!”

Naminé stared at the boy for a moment. “I’m...not sure that’s a good idea.”

“No! Let me explain! The way I was taught to use a keyblade, was to take inspiration from the enemies I fight, and incorporate their moves into my fighting style. I have a memory of a lot of techniques. But I don’t use all of them at one time!”

“So you can forget them without any problems, then I could change them into something I could use?” It was a crazy idea, but if it gave her the chance to help him, “I’ll try it.”.

“Alright, let me see...this one?” And then she saw it, a chain from his memories that had detached itself and began to vanish. She reached out, and in a flash of light was holding a card with an image of Ventus’ keyblade. “Hey! I think it worked!”

Naminé smiled, then turned it over in her hand. “So...how do I use it?”

Just then, the whirling of coalescing darkness brought forth Heartless, having finally detected the Keyblade wielder. Namine took the card and held it forward, hoping whatever power lie within would shield her. In a flash a shimmering figure sprung forth from the card, Wayward Wind in hand, and struck the Wizard leading the Soldiers. As the mirage attacked the magical heartless, Ventus recalled his own blade, and made quick work of the handful of soldiers. As the boy finished off the rest of the entourage, the figment Naminé summoned vanished, leaving the wizard free to attack. And also free to be attacked by Ventus, as a few more strikes had the Heartless expire, releasing its heart.

Again, she saw it, a free memory, though she realized this was not a techniqued discarded, it was one yet to be learned. She grasped it before it made contact, and was left with a card showing the image of ice. “This must be...magic?” Holding it out before her, a blast of ice shot forward, covering a spot on the wall with cold.

Ventus grinned. “That’s pretty good! I bet we can find more cards out in town as we fight heartless. Want to come with?” He gestured to the door leading outside towards the alleyway.

Naminé looked at the cards in her hand. At the power she could wield. While the attack a moment ago was shocking, having a chance to participate in the fight and help win...

Was this...excitement?

Whatever that emotion or sensation was, she wanted more. So…

“Alright, I’ll go with you.”

[achaoticeternal]

𝗯𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲

DRUIG (ETERNALS) X MORTAL!F!READER

Summary: With so much anxiety in your heart, you try to push Druig away and give him an out, yet he won't take it. Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: talks about mental health and mortality, and emotional content. alcohol consumption. A/N: this occurs in the five-year span of the Blip

The corners of the window seemed to be frosted over, conflicting with the warmth that filled the house. The wind pushed through the tree that shivered in reaction, sending one down your spine. Sitting curled up in your chair, the flakes that drifted through the air brought you some comfort as you felt too shaken to move. Lately, it had been getting too hard to get out of bed and put on clothes, but it was the bare minimum. But chains kept themselves anchored to your feet as you dragged yourself from the bed to your chair day after day.

It had been a month since you had last seen your beloved Druig and he was set to get in tonight. When you had first started to just see each other, the lengths of time that passed in seeing him didn't have such an effect on you. Yet when the two of you grew more serious in your relationship, he was honest about why he needed to leave for so many weeks at a time and his full identity. Sure, it was a lot to comprehend, but you were living a post-Blip world. So nothing was really that hard to believe, anymore.

After he left the last time to go back to the Amazon, it came at a time where you had started to hit a decline again. it could be a side effect of the wintertime or a reminder of another holiday season without those who didn't survive the Blip. No amount of self-care days or retail therapy could remedy the heaviness in your heart and the person who could offer you the most comfort was hundreds of miles away with zero signal.

It was a rainy afternoon in April when Druig let himself into the shared home. Instead of being met with a whirlwind of affection, there was silence. He knew that it was that hard time of year when you remembered all those lost, so he showed himself through the house in search.

He stalked up the stairs to first check your studio. It was a rational idea since you would shut yourself in there to release your frustrations with life into any form of creativity. He was only met with the same silence and pictures scattered across the floor. Some of the two of you over the past few years and others with friends and family members who he had never even met. Druig's eyes flickered over them with affection as events that seemed like only yesterday stayed captured, frozen into a moment.

Picking up one of the photographs, he examined it closer than the others. It was taken nearly five years ago when you had first started to consistently so Druig. The two of you were wrapped up in hats and scarves, and he was sporting his usual leather jacket. Even though his signature smirk had been captured, it didn't equate to your beaming smile that radiated both in-person and in pictures. Turning it over, he read the scribbled handwriting that dated the photo and events. First Snow Date with Dru.

He continued the search into the bedroom where the duvet sat unfixed and wrinkled from nightly use. Clothes were scattered around the laundry bin, but nothing was truly out of place. His lips pouted in thought as to your location until a soft whimper barely made itself audible.

Perking up, he followed the hoarse cry into the walk-in closet connected to the bathroom. He pushed open the door the reveal your form leaning against the bottom panel of the wall as stray tears rolled down your cheeks. Two pictures were tucked out of your crossed arms - one of your parents and another of the two of you when you first moved into the house.

"Oh, love," he spoke softly, taking a seat next to you. He pulled your frame into his arms to provide you with all the comfort he could. Your breath was shaky and he rubbed small circles onto your back to help you calm down, "I know, I know."

You felt like you had failed him... and yourself. You had been doing so good and now here you were again, fractured and forlorn. Nothing had brought a smile to your cheeks in weeks and the counters had collected layers of dust from your lack of motivation. Was there even an excuse for your grief at this point? Or were you just damaged?

These things pained you along with the realization that had settled in your bones. Your days were numbered and the chapters of your life were flipping by, no matter how much you needed to take a break from reality. The gray hairs that were tangled in your brush and the laugh lines that would sometimes peek out were signs of maturity. A concept that slowly broke your heart.

Were these signals just as noticeable to Druig? Or would he blink and you would be gone from his reality?

But before your mind could spiral any further, two arms tugged you into an inviting warmth - Druig. The corners of your mouth twitched upwards as you felt his breath tickle at your neck. His lips pressed a chapped kiss to your cheek, and his nose that was chilled like frostbite ran across your temple, "hello, beautiful."

You pulled yourself from his grasp, only to stand and give him a proper hug to welcome him back, "hi, Dru."

It didn't matter how hard you pretended to be giddy and smile at the moment, he could read you like a book. He knew that there was pain living in your heart and that the atmosphere he walked into had troubled you for weeks now. But it was something that could really be addressed once he had settled back in. Hopefully, his gifts would be able to serve as a little pick-me-up.

"It's the first snow of the season, so you know what that means," Druig smirked, raising a bag of goodies.

"You didn't-"

"I did," He admitted, pulling out a bottle of champagne and two glasses, "I had to, for my favorite person."

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and swiftly turned on his feet to walk into the open kitchen space. You followed behind him, padded feet making light stomps across the hardwood floor. Druig popped open the bottle using a party trick he had learned long ago by some colleagues in France. And even though you laughed at his behavior, it was a disguise of the natural joy that used to live in your tone.

The bubbly liquid was poured into two matching glasses. Handing one of them to you, he looked into your eyes and offered a smile, "I also bought stuff to cook dinner-"

"No, Druig... You just got home, let me cook fo-" He cut your speech off with his index fingers against your lips.

"I owe you a dinner after all the other times you cook when I return home to you, so let me treat you properly," he finger trailed down to take your hand without the champagne into his own, "please."

Scrunching your nose, you fell for the loving look in his eyes and admitted to a silent defeat. He raised your knuckles to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to each. His actions caused you to giggle as he spun you around and began leading you away from the kitchen.

"Great, now if you'll let me work my magic in here," he chuckled, shoving you towards the television, "I want you to look for something that we can watch together. I've been a month without your little baking shows and silly office specials so it is your job to get me caught up."

He placed you onto the couch with a blanket and the champagne bottle, as if you were a little Russian doll he could set on a shelf. A simper teased the corners of his mouth as his eyes took in all the details of your face. Druig nodded in some silent approval and trailed back over to the kitchen to leave you with the task at hand.

It was the most wonderful feeling to have Druig back and fill in the space that he left. A small smile fell upon your face as you saw his figure peak and dance around the kitchen in his own little world. Every glimpse of him had always made your heart skip a beat. Your attention turned back to the remote in your hands and the scrolling through various streaming services to decide on the movie of the night. And yet, your mind drifted away to other places.

Druig had placed the first box of books into the office that the two of you decided to turn into a shared library. Both of you didn't have much need for a full office space, so why not turn it into something that brought you together as a couple. The love of knowledge and books that you both shared was a special part of your relationship that you treasured while piecing together your library.

Building the floor-to-roof bookshelves had been quite a challenge and it turned out that Druig was a terrible handyman. You couldn't count how many times he had missed the nail and hit his thumb before you had to take over on hammer duty. He was instead much better at organizing and integrating your collected books together by last name, alphabetically. His attention to detail made him perfect for such a tedious job.

It was that same day that Druig told you the truth about his identity and immortality. He answered all your questions and recalled the stories of civilizations that he experienced firsthand. How could you react to such grand news as if it didn't carry the weight it did.

"(Y/N), did you hear me?" The suave voice drew you back into the present moment as he approached the couch with two bowls.

The steam swirled up into the air, signaling the hot contents within. Grabbing the bowl with caution, you let it rest on your thigh as Druig tucked himself in next to you, pulling part of your large blanket onto his lap. You pressed play on the remote and he began to dive into the soup. He picked up the bottle of champagne from the coffee table to refill his glass to discover that barely two glasses remained, "I guess it's a good thing I bought more than one."

"You know me," You tried to laugh it off, but you were slightly alarmed that you didn't recall drinking that much.

"It's alright, my love," He smiled as he sip at the golden liquid, "but please eat before your food gets cold."

Taking a few bites as well, it was really good, but you simply couldn't stomach it. Maybe it was the bubbly alcohol or just general anxiety; however, even the thought of food or the weight of your blanket was setting flares off in your head.

His slight laugh and scrunch of his eyes when something humorous happened on-screen caused your focus to settle on him. The object of your affections who had lived millenniums before you and would see more without you. How he managed to be entertained by your existence for this long was actually a surprise. He knew some of the most influential people that shaped humanity and was sitting on your couch as if it was his life's purpose.

The weight of this knowledge and realization hung too heavy on your chest. A tear streaked down your cheek, and your hand raised itself to wipe the evidence away before Druig could see. Yet your lover had a keen eye and snatched your hand into his, his blue eyes studying your glass ones.

"Why haven't you left me?" The words left your tongue, the champagne now spoke for you, "Why do you keep returning to me?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"It- it's a serious one, Dru. What keeps you tied to me?"

Druig was confused and lost by the sudden change of atmosphere. Where did this even come from? He did everything in his power to demonstrate his love for you and to make sure you knew that he would never abandon you. So to question the reason for his loyalty...

"Druig, I am broken and I am plain. I am a child and yet I see my grave. Why do you stay?"

"Because I love you... Isn't that enough of an answer?"

"No... no," you cried, "Time is passing by us, passing through me. And all you can do is watch. I'm turning into an antique that you've collected for the shelves of your stories. There are plenty are pretty, young girls that you can cycle through without hesitation or a second thought of commitment. But you are sitting next to me."

Your words were like a faucet that kept running no matter how many times you turned the handle. All the thoughts and concerns you pushed to the back of your mind came pouring out and drowning you beneath their waves, "we are just biding time..."

"Please, (Y/N), I love you more than anything in this world or any other. I don't want to seek out youthful creatures for the rest of time, I want to enjoy every moment I have with you."

"But you shouldn't have to sit and wait for me to die!" You yelled, stumbling up and away from the couch. The cries were spilling out of you, capturing your breath in your lungs. Each rise and fall of your chest had grown quicker by the minute, and all peace left your body.

"Please, just leave me, and wipe my mind of you. I couldn't live if you ever grew bored of me or stayed out of pity," Your lips trembled and your arms clung around your waist in self-comfort.

Each action he made moved with this slowness as if he was freezing time for you. What Druig didn't say was that if he could stop the flow of the natural law, he would do it for you. It was never realistic to plan out a life with you when if he looked away for too long, you would disappear from his life. He had lived each day with you as if it were the last with you so that you would never question his love.

Now here you were, crying for him to just go ahead and tear off the band-aid for a future wound. Maybe it was selfish of him, but Druig couldn't ever bring himself to do such a thing. He pulled at your arms, bringing your shaking frame closer to hold you until the tears no longer stained your cheeks. Druig planned to keep you hostage in his arms until he physically couldn't.

"I will love you as the sun rises and falls. I will hold you as if you would vanish without my arms. I will care for you as the moon cares for the ocean. And I will keep you in my heart, to love and cherish, until such a time that I face my end."

[mindninjax]

'tis the damn season

Shouto Todoroki x Reader

Rating: E for Explicit (Minors DNI)

Warnings: praise, virginity, temp play, a lil angst, overstimulation, creampie

WC: 4.1K

a/n: I honestly don’t even know what came over me with this fic. I legit wrote this in a day. This is the second time I have EVER written for Sho Sho. Regardless it was fun to get out and it provided an amazing distraction from life stuff for a bit. Plus I really love pushing the cozy autumn vibes even though it is still HOT AS SIN where I live. Anywhoo I hope y’all enjoy it and know that you’re really great people. 💖 OH and if you catch the OTHER Taylor Swift reference in here, shoot me an ask and let me know. It would make my day bahaha.

He’s more handsome than you remembered, if that’s at all possible. Tall, broad chest, two toned hair that blows softly in the chilly fall breeze. So this is what 10 years and a life of fame will do. He stares at you, mouth agape and blinking slowly before pressing his lips into a tight line.

A pity you’d decided to pull on sweatpants and a bulky sweater to hurry to the grocery store for yeast to finish baking the bread you’d been working on. As if he would care about what you’re wearing. You match his expression, shock spreading across your face as the withering leaves flutter down in front of you. You lick your lips, the frost stealing the moisture from them before you blink and ask in a small whisper.

“Shouto?”

You’re not prepared for the kickstart to your heart his voice initiates as he says your name back. It quickly subsides and aches when you realize he’s referred to you by your family name. A puff of smoke from your lips releases the small gasp you try to stifle and you clench your fists to stop yourself from reaching out to swallow him in a hug.

“You...you came back?” you stutter.

As always, every thought Shouto has, stretches plainly across his face as he listens to your nervous question. Well, it’s obvious to you. It always has been. It’s why he’s always been the one.

“Yes. I came back to have dinner with my sister and her husband,” he responds.

It’s a pleasant enough response, but it makes you wince. It’s absent of familiarity. Not at all the same tone he used to speak to you in. In a second, the last conversation you had with him floods your mind and you close your eyes to try to push it away.

It lingers in the unspoken air between the two of you, words floating and sharpening to pierce their way through your heart again.

"Sho don’t let this thing with your dad run your life! You’re more than this. You’re more than your quirk. You’re more than proving your dad wrong!"

"You could never understand."

"You’re right, I don’t understand that. But I do know this isn’t what your mom would’ve wanted!"

"You don’t know anything about what my mom would’ve wanted. Mind your business. You’ll say anything to keep me here. It’s not going to work. I’m going. I won’t let you hold me back anymore."

He spoke those words like he was spitting venom and you felt every burn. He left you standing there in the snow, tears freezing on your face as he walked out of your life 10 years ago. He went to UA, focused on becoming a hero without using his fire, made new friends, rose to fame on the hero chart and forgot all about you.

“Ahh I see. Well have a great holiday!” you feign a smile and a cheerful wave as you try to push past him in the doorway of the automatic doors in the grocery store. You shuffle quickly, breaking eye contact with him and keeping your head down out of embarrassment, fear, shame, you’re not even sure anymore.

He’s left standing there as you quickly dive into your car and drive home, eager to forget the entire ordeal completely and be back in your cozy home. The holiday bread you were preparing for your sweet neighbor Mrs. Saito needed to be put in the oven anyway. You start your car and drive away, emptying your mind and daydreaming about an alternate ending to that conversation. Before you know it, you’re home, kneading dough and plopping it in the oven.

You glance at the clock, a few hours have passed and you can almost forget that you saw him. Almost.

There’s a chaste knock on your door and you hurry over to it, thinking it to be Mrs. Saito. You untie your apron and hang it on the hook in the kitchen. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror by the front door. Your face is covered in flour and sweat, your hair is falling out of the messy ponytail you’ve pulled it into, and you look as if you haven’t slept in days. You’re momentarily aware of how much seeing Shouto affected you, but you push it from your mind and open the door to greet Mrs. Saito

“I’m sorry to interrupt.”

A deep somber voice makes you freeze in the doorway of your home. Your lips part slightly and another light gasp escapes you. Shouto stands in front of you, leaves and the wind whipping around the black trench coat he wears. The sweater he wears, stretches across his pecs and sits perfectly over his smoothed abs. His eyes are ignited with something you can’t quite put your finger on. His presence never fails to take your breath away.

“It’s...it’s ok,” you stammer, eyes big as confusion takes over your features.

“Ok,” he replies, staring at you. You can see the puffs of smoke blow out from his nose as he breathes. His hands are balled into fists at his side.

You’re still confused but you read his expression and you can tell he wants to say something but he’s trying to figure out how to say it.

“D...did you need something?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not entirely sure.”

Silence. The wind howls behind him. He shivers slightly, an action anyone else would’ve missed but you’re always looking at his shoulders. He always stood with them hunched like he was afraid to be seen by his father, but now he stands tall and proud and despite everything that’s happened, you’re happy he doesn’t seem like that scared angry kid he used to be.

“Do you want to come in?” you gesture into your home, the warmth radiating from inside.

“Yes.”

He steps into the foyer and looks around at the autumn decorations . He waltzes into the living room, his nose up and sniffing the air as you follow closely behind him.

You watch him shimmy out of his coat and hook it on his arm. You reach out to grab it and hang it up for him, the movement almost automatic, as if you’ve done this before.

“I’m sorry I’m a mess. I was ba-”

“Baking bread. Banana?” he finishes, looking toward the kitchen with a little smile.

“Yeah, it’s Mrs. Saito's favorite,” you reply, smiling warmly at him. Your heart starts to relax a bit. He’s still standing awkwardly in the living room but he’s surveying your bookshelf, and all of the many baking books littering the shelves.

“You still bake?” he asks with genuine curiosity. There’s a tiny lilt of surprise and relief at the end of his sentence and again your heart skips a beat at his tone.

“I own the shop on the corner near that park we used to always go to. It’s just a small bakery but the locals love it, especially the elders,” you reply nonchalantly, walking into the kitchen to make tea.

“I’d like to take some home with me, if that’s alright?” Shouto looks at you hopeful and it kind of breaks your heart to notice that he thinks you’d tell him that it wasn’t alright.

“Of…of course,” you stammer nervously, heat filling your cheeks. “Peppermint still ok?” you ask, holding up the box of tea.

The little smile returns, and despite him being 10 years older and an important famous pro hero, he still looks like your Shouto. It warms you and it makes you feel safe again, but there’s something holding you back from falling back into the familiar relationship you used to have with him..

“Yes. I’d like that a lot,” he says politely.

“So how long are you in town for?” you try to keep it casual, focusing on pouring the tea into two cups as you hear the click clack of his expensive shoes on the tile floor of your kitchen.

There’s a slight hesitation before he answers, “Just the weekend,” and you know he’s watching you to see how you will react.

You try to stay casual. “Oh.”

It doesn’t work.

It’s quiet, the sound of pouring water and the timer for the bread ticking as you both stare at each other and wait for the tea to steep. The wind rages outside, the gray atmosphere of the cold autumn day matching the “would be” warm environment inside your kitchen. The bread smells nice and sweet, you have a cinnamon scented candle burning in the dining room, everything about your home right now screams warmth. So why do you feel so cold and drab staring at your childhood friend right now?

Shouto moves to grab the cup of tea and takes a quick sip. You watch his lips gently press against the cup and lick your own quickly. He sits the cup back down and folds his hands on the counter politely. When you can’t take the awkward silence anymore, you pipe up. “Is the Hero work going well?”

“I’m sorry.”

His apology catches you off guard. You’re leaning against the counter and suddenly push yourself up to gaze at him in confusion. “Huh? For what?” you inquire.

“For everything I said back then. I was a different person then, a person I’m not proud of but I’m learning to be someone not only my mother would be proud of but I can be proud of as well. And one of my biggest regrets was hurting you.”

He’s staring right at you so you know he’s being serious. You remember thinking when you were kids how you wished he was one of the nervous kids who looked down at their feet when confessing something. But Shouto never did that. He spoke with purpose, everything he wanted to communicate came out with sincerity, even now.

So when you hear that his biggest regret was hurting you, you do what any lovesick idiot who’s afraid to be hurt again would do. Brush it off.

“You...you don’t have to say that Shouto. We were just kids, it's ok,” you say chuckling and shrugging your shoulders. “Don’t worry about it.”

He walks over to stand in front of you now. He peers down at you, towering over you. “It isn’t. It never was,” he retorts his voice so deep you can almost feel it through the floor.

“Ok,” is all you whisper.

He’s so close to you now. You can smell his expensive cologne, can see the way each string of fabric in his sweater is stretching over his muscles. His arms bulge, his shoulders look even broader as he takes even breaths in and out. You drop your eyes to the floor, studying the little leaf patterns sewn onto your fluffy socks, and when that becomes old, you squeeze your eyes shut to hold back the tears. All you want is to reach out and touch him. Hug him and feel his warmth. You missed him, you missed him so much and you wished more times than you could count that he’d come back here. And now he is back.

And you’re going to let him leave again because you’re too afraid to just say it.

“I never forgot you.”

You look up at him in disbelief, your mouth agape, eyes cloudy as you replay his words in your mind. He stares at you with an unfamiliar expression. It’s more mature, but it holds the remnants of your Shouto, the one you remember from your childhood. He’s looking at you the way he looked at you when you held his hand and guided him away from his horribly depressing household.

“I couldn’t forget you,” you say back, a quiet whisper that is barely audible.

The timer suddenly goes off then and you both jump. You quickly turn it off and scoot past him to grab your oven mitts and take the bread out of the oven. You set it down on the stove top to cool. The kitchen grows warmer from the oven and your heart is beating so fast in your chest you have to put your hand over it to coax it to be calm again.

Shouto is behind you when you turn around and his eyes are a bit wild, desperate. “Was there ever...no...I’m sorry...that’s selfish of me to ask. Nevermind,” he says, turning away from you, a defeated look on his face.

Somehow, you know what he was going to ask. You can’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth. “There was never anyone else. I...I couldn’t...”

Shouto reaches for your hand and when he grasps it, you gulp down air in surprise at how right it feels wrapped around your fingers. You gaze up at him and lift your hand to touch the scarred flesh around his eye. He closes his eyes, holding his breath as you caress his cheek and sigh. It’s like a dream, so many times you’ve thought about being able to touch him again, to hold his hand and run down the street whenever you could sneak into the Todoroki estate to help him escape, if only for a little while.

Your breath wavers as you try to hold in the sob that fights so desperately to burst from your throat, but it’s swallowed completely by Shouto’s lips pressing against yours. Your eyes are wide long enough to see his hand come up to caress your cheek and wrap his fingers into your hair.

As many times as you’ve fantasized about this moment, how perfect it would be; the fantasies never compare to reality.

His lips are soft, the taste of peppermint still lingers on his tongue as he swipes it over your bottom lip. You press harder into his lips and the tears fall now as your fingers clench the expensive fabric of his sweater. You hold him close, pull him closer, press your breast against his chest and wrap your arms around his neck, afraid to let go, afraid he’ll disappear into thin air, that this could all be a dream.

Your nipples harden and you’re sure he can feel them rubbing against his chest, but he doesn't pull away from you. He doesn’t tell you to stop, his hands instead drop to your ass and he grips the plump meat and massages his fingers into your cheeks. When he elicits the moan he’s looking for from you, he slips his tongue into your mouth and it only makes you moan louder.

Shouto’s fingers are strong, all the strength of being a Pro Hero now evident in the way he holds you tighter, squeezes your hips and ass, and grinds the bulge in his pants against your thigh.

“I want you,” he whispers against your lips and you respond with a breathy moan of affirmation before he moves to bite your neck.

Your mind is clouded with the intoxicating taste of him. His scent, his tongue, his soft pink lips, everything lifts you from your depressive haze and suddenly you’re floating on a cloud of pleasure. You don’t even realize you’re on your bed, naked and below him until you focus on his bare chest and the way his hips slowly curve to a “V” down to a tuft of white hair nestling his swollen cock.

It’s so pretty, everything about him is beautiful. It’s long, a thick vein runs up the side of it underneath his porcelain skin, and the tip is bright pink and leaking precum that tempts you to lick it clean. He peppers kisses down your body while his hands roam and play with your nipples. Your back arches and you purr as one side of your body feels the pleasure of the cold from his right hand and the heat of his left.

“Mmm...Sho...feels…feels good,” you mutter as he sucks a bruise onto your inner thigh.

Your pussy is hot and dribbling, eager to be full of him. He looks up at you, from where his lips have been sucking on the meat of your thigh and you see him gaze at your cunt in astonishment.

“You waited for me. Kept this untouched, just for me?” he asks incredulously, ghosting his index finger over your clit.

His finger feels hot as it slides over your clit and you gasp and jerk your hips forward. He’s looking into your eyes now, lust blown pupils shining through his bicolored bangs. His jaw clenches when he sees the way you push your pussy toward him.

“Yes, yes Sho. All for you,” you whine.

Something in your tone tips him over the edge and he dives between your folds. He sucks your clit into his mouth and you cry out. He’s amazing, nibbling your bud, flattening his tongue to slurp the dripping slick and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His hands don’t leave your nipples, twisting them as he activates his quirk and your body becomes overwhelmed with the sensation of being hot and cold.

It doesn’t take you long to come on his face and when you do, he licks you clean, lewd wet noises echoing through your bedroom as you shake and come down from your orgasm.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he says as he moves slowly up your body, face glistening with your cum. He kisses you and you taste yourself and him. It's mind blowing, the thought of being together in that way.

“I want to see more of that,” he replies in a deep husky voice and you nod feverishly at him.

“Please, Sho I...I want you...I’ve waited…so long. Please,” you beg, and the way you say “please” makes Shouto’s eyebrows furrow. How could he deny you anything when you sound like that?

“You’re amazing, do you know that?” he asks as his left hand moves down between your legs. He rubs circles on your clit, but keeps eye contact with you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head but not before he swipes two fingers through your folds and brings it back to his mouth to suck on his fingers.

“And you taste so good. I can’t even imagine how tight you are,” he says sweetly.

You’re panting, biting your lip and running your hands down his chest. He shivers in anticipation but allows himself to stay patient. His left hand caresses the side of your face as his right snakes back down between your legs and fingers your hole. His index finger teases the entrance and you can already feel the cooling sensation.

“S..Sho...please,” you whimper as his finger continues to tease you. He shushes you with a sweet kiss and again you mewl against his lips.

“Shh, it’s coming love, but first let me see how tight you are.” When he pushes his index finger into your cunt you immediately clench around it.

He grunts in unison with your gasp and mutters “Just as I suspected, so tight. Good girl,” he coos.

He activates his quirk and you think you feel the cold pulsing through your body all the way up to the tips of your ears. You're gasping again, chanting his name as he adds another finger, then hooks it up to rub your sweet spot. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, sucking your neck as his right hand tangles into your hair.

“Oh god! Oh Shouto I’m gonna…” you say as your body starts to tighten again.

“It’s ok, come for me,” he coaxes as he continues pumping into you faster.

You oblige, arching your back and coming again on his fingers. He pulls them from you with a squelching pop and this time he slots his fingers into your mouth and commands you to suck. You lick up his digits, forking your tongue between his two fingers before he pulls them from your lips and kisses you again.

He sits back to gaze down at your heaving chest, a sheen of sweat on your body glistening in the retreating autumn sun. He smiles down at you, love and adoration behind his eyes and he cups your cheek again.

“Do you have one more for me?” he asks. You nod, though it’s sluggish and you look spent. Your body is quivering as Shouto stares longingly at your cunt.

He lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. “I’ll go slow,” he says when you look down apprehensively to where he’s rubbing his cock over your clit.

“Ok,” you whisper and give him a look of determination.

He stops right before he pushes into you, grasps your cheeks in one hand to make you look directly into his eyes and he says in a serious tone, “I love you. I always have.”

Tears well up in your eyes and spill over at his words, the words you’ve prayed to hear from him the last ten years. He pushes into you, breaking past the tight ring of muscle inside you and you both groan loudly. He’s not even all the way in and already you feel full. He continues pushing into you slowly as he grinds his teeth and clenches his eyes shut.

“Oh… oh shit, you’re...tighter...ugh...tighter than I thought,” he grunts in a husky voice.

When he’s bottomed out, he collapses over your body to kiss you passionately, wiping away your tears as you pull him close and bury your face into his neck. You stay with Shouto’s cock embedded inside you as both of you catch your breath. When you’re breathing has calmed he looks into your eyes, slowly moves his hips out and plunges back into you.

Shouto feels better than anything you’ve ever imagined. He feels like home, like a warm blanket on a cold day. Like a love that never burns out, and when he fucks you, you can feel all he’s ever wanted to express to you within each thrust. His cock rubs against every ridge in your spongy walls, every movement feels different than the last. The stretch of his cock burns but it only makes you yelp and cry louder.

He’s maneuvered himself so he can see his dick sink into you over and over. He watches it while praising you, words twisting together as the pleasure of your pussy takes hold of him.

“You’re doing so well love. You’re so good, so beautiful…shit...you’re clenching…I’m-”

Your core is tightening again and it hurts but you don’t dare tell him to stop. He holds your waist as he pounds into you, his fingers leave indentations and when he moves his left hand to push down on your belly as he rams into you, you squirt all over his cock, screaming out as your body convulses in pleasure. Shouto is almost there but he watches the frothing creamy cum around the base of his cock and pistons his hips into yours. The wet slap of his balls against your thighs drives him right to the cusp of release. His fingers dig into your skin, his hips sputter and he groans long and loud as you feel yourself being filled with so much cum, it leaks out the side of your pussy.

Shouto collapses on top of you, littering your face with kisses. You realize the tears are still flowing from your eyes and it isn’t until now that you realize why that is. You hold him close to you, place a kiss on his shoulder and try to revel in the bliss. You can feel him shiver with the aftershocks of his orgasm and you smile and hold him tighter.

For what seems like hours, you lay there like that, wrapped in each other’s arms as the sun starts to set. When you’ve gathered enough courage, you finally whisper without looking at him.

“I love you too Sho...but you’re leaving again. Aren’t you?” you say sadly. The tears burn your eyes and hold back your sobs when he sighs.

“Yes,” he replies.

You nod and pull him closer to you, tightening your grip. A lump in your throat forms and you know with everything in you, you want to beg him to stay with you.

“But I don’t intend to leave you behind again. I won’t make the same mistake. I love you,” he says seriously.

Your heart swells and you finally let the tears out freely, a tiny sob wracks your body and you bury your face into his chest. He rolls over and pulls out of you bolstering you against his broad chest. You don’t know what the future holds for the two of you, but his promise not to leave you behind again is all you need. You smile happily as the moon creeps into the sky and the sound of his heartbeat lulls you into deep sleep.

--

Thanks for reading!