#and they immediately looked at that and patched it out because it was too overpowered??

[pwurrz]

hey uh, devsis?? if 99 of the top 100 people in the kingdom arena have stormbringer cookie on their team because she’s so incredibly broken it’s pretty much impossible to ascend the ranks without her?? that means the meta kinda sucks ass right now not gonna lie!!!!!!!

[orgverse]

thigh riding and size kink with softdom yunho has been brewing in my brain LIKE HES JUST SO UHGAAA

LISTEN– i know this has been done probs like a thousand times but just picturing him gaming and he's been playing for a few good hours now, and while you don't mind him gaming. because you can be just as bad when it comes to it. getting sucked into the game and not wanting to leave. BUT he's been playing for hours and you're starting to get needy.

so you plant yourself right next to him. so close that yunho can feel your body pressing up against him. he doesn't say anything, eyes still trained on the tv as he tries to take out the opponents. he can feel your eyes on him, staring him down and waiting for him to look at you. i wouldn't be surprised if he can just sense how needy you are for him.

so when his game ends and he's in the lobby waiting for the next one, that's when he turns to you. and his sense was right. you are needy and horny for him. he can't help but to laugh at how you look at him like you're about to drool any second.

"yuyu..." you say, clingy to his arm, pressing your body against his. one of your hands coming to rest and massage his thigh. he feels your hand slowly trail up higher and higher, but never going to close to his crotch. "can you take a small break please?"

"i can't babe," he tells you, "my team is about to win this tournament. but afterwards, okay?"

"no! please yunho! i can't wait, i need you so bad," you beg, dropping to the ground and gripping his leg. you're practically sitting on his foot as you hug his leg tightly. yunho feels conflicted about this, and honestly he feels bad. he wants to help you, but he doubts you'll be satisfied by the time the next match starts.

but then it hits him.

"babe," he stands you up, slipping your underwear off and he notes the wet patch that was on your underwear. he tsk'ed at how you must have been touching yourself before you came and found him. probably humping his pillow or something. "ride my thigh while i play my next match, and if you come before i finish, i'll let you ride my cock."

yunho has to stop himself from tossing his controller to the said and saying 'fuck the tournament.' mainly because he can just barely see how you're riding his thigh. your hips moving at a desperate pace, wanting to come. he feels his sweatpants start to get a wet patch as your pussy brushes against the fabric.

your moan overpower the sounds from his game and even a few of his teammates. he kind of wonders if they can hear you, or if he's just imagining that you're moaning louder than you actually are. he flexes his thigh here and there and he sees who he's able to make your whole body jolt. your boobs slightly bouncing as a result and he grips the controller so hard from how bad he wants to throw it and shove his cock between your boobs.

"a-ah! yunho~ yunho~" you say his name as you grip his shoulder, probably trying to ground yourself. your hips move at rather rushed and chaotic pace and he knows you're close. but he's also close to finishing his game.

he feels you shove your body against his, head hidden in his neck as you rut against his leg once last time before you're finally coming. a series of whines mixed with his name his said, and yunho immediately tossing his controller to the side to hold you to him. his thigh bouncing you up and down. his arms encasing you make you feel small within his large frame, something that doesn't happen too often, but you love nonetheless.

and when you come down from your high, you turn to look at the tv to notice that yunho's team had just won. you feel something twist in your stomach when you turn to him expectantly. yunho can only smile at you before he's pulling his sweats down just enough for his cock spring out.

"well my cock isn't going to ride itself, babe."

[leggerefiore]

A silly idea for MerMay:

You get gifted a bottle of perfume that contains ambergris (a substance that comes from sperm whales) and decide to try it. How would it affect merfolk?

It would be funny if different species had different reactions from smelling it. For one species, they might think this means you’ve been marked/scented by another merfolk already, but another smell it and think it’s like a distress signal.

And (of course) one species immediately assumes it’s a pheromone signaling fertility, because of course it does.

cw: sexual mentions in Grimsley's section, pokehybrid au, mermen,

characters: Emmet, Volo, Grimsley, Ingo

▽Eelektross Emmet△

○ As Eelektross would likely have to produce a similar substance due to how they can eat many indigestible things, his first thought is that a pokemon has eaten you and, hopefully, vomited you back up. There's likely been horror stories about Wailords accidentally doing so.

○ Expect him to awkwardly sniff you over before pulling you tightly into a hug and looking around as if something were coming to attack you. After he manages to calm down from his momentary panic slightly, Emmet asks if you experienced something life changing with a cetacean recently, obvious distressed still. You turn to him with a confused expression and reply you have not.

○ “Darling, you smell like a digestive fluid,” he whispers like whatever supposedly ate you and somehow erased your memory lingered nearby. You pull away from him with bold laughter, staring at the worried Eelektross hybrid with a hysterical expression. His yellow patches of flesh glowed with light electricity, obviously ready to protect you.

○ “I think that's the best yet worst way someone has ever said my perfume stinks,” you told him. Emmet gasped. He was now pondering why humans would spray digestive fluid on themselves. A defence mechanism? He could not be sure. “... Ah, it's the ambergris in it, isn't it? That's why you think I got swallowed by a Wailord,” you realised.

○ Emmet really wasn't a fan of the perfume, alas. He is still not completely certain it was not some human defence mechanism against marine life.

💫Milotic Volo📜

⭐️ Milotic hybrids also recognise it as a digestive fluid scent, not as they contain it themselves, but as when Wailord drops happen in the deeper parts of the ocean, the scent mixes in with the stench of death. That is why he hops onto a similar concern that you were eaten by a Wailord (or, much to an improbable horror, an Eelektross). Well, until he recalls how the scent would cling to Mistress Cogita, too.

⭐️ He likely tugs you into the water and pulls you under with him, whether you are in swimming attire or not, to wash off the heavy scent from you. The ambergris overpowered whatever scent the perfume was actually meant to be in his senses. You likely are confused by the sudden embrace and dip into the ocean, but let it happen, as Volo wasn't exactly know to be easily evaded.

⭐️ He places you back on the shore and gives you an icy glare, a reminder that he preferred to take the siren route rather than be a beautiful, helpful water visage. “That perfume you wore,” he explained, “Smelled like someone vomited on you.” You gasped. His harsh words stung, and he obviously took note as he reached out to grab you. “It was the ambergris in it, not whatever sugar sweet delicacy or floral and herby notes it claimed it had,” he corrected himself, feeling admittedly a bit guilty about upsetting you.

⭐️ “... You still manage to be the evil fish I first met,” you sighed and leaned against him. Water dripped from you. You pressed your face into his nape as he took to floating in the water with you on top of him, golden hair floating behind him beautifully. “You don't like that scent?” you asked him, unsure as to why he had strong opinions. His face scrunched up as he had to explain his preferred krill had been coated in it for a while due to a picky Eelektross. You laughed.

⭐️ You have to take a bath in the ocean if you wear it around him. He claims it gives him a headache and bad memories associated with a certain bite mark on the upper part of his tail.

♠️Sharpedo Grimsley❤️

♤ Sharpedo hybrids, unfortunately, are the ones who take it as a horny thing. Grimsley approaches the shore where you sat to greet him with an odd smile on his lips. You thought little of it until he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the water, swimming away from the shore as fast as he could. It was mostly deserted, but there were one or two people who took notice of the “Shark Attack” and freaked out over you being whisked away, assumably to be eaten.

♡ This was not so uncommon for Grimsley, as there were times he grew tired of humans asking him endless questions about his species. That and he enjoyed a good thrill, and there was nothing like having someone try to “rescue” you from a terrifying man-eating hybrid. When you end up far away from the shore, he slows down and leans over you.

◇ “Oh, man, I didn't think normal humans had a mating season,” his voice was teasing, “You must have wanted to gamble whether I would take you on the beach or not.” You gazed at him with a confused expression, causing him to also grow a bit confused. You obviously had come to him reeking of pheromones to mate, right? He didn't understand why you looked so confused. “You are emitting pheromones,” Grimsley told you boldly.

♧ “... My perfume makes Sharpedos horny, got it,” you said to yourself and him, causing him to nearly lose his grasp on you. His mouth fell open, exposing his sharpened teeth for a moment before it closed. You sighed, “Uh, I think unless flowers have this effect on you, it was probably the ambergris, right?” Grimsley felt even more horrified at your words. Had he been aroused by the scent of Wailord digestive fluids? It… It was honestly not the worst thing that had got him hard.

♤ Grimsley demands you wear it whenever you meet for a night together. In fact, he requests the bottle itself for unknown reasons.

bonus joke:

▲Incomplete Eelektross Ingo▼

● You had entered his office to bring the humanoid fish man a surprise lunch. It was admittedly all run-of-the-mill for you two. A kiss and light conversation were expected, but not him suddenly pulling you into his chest while breathing heavily. You could feel even his gills pulsing on his chest. What had brought out this sudden behavioural shift in him?

● You tried to pull away, but he only held you tighter. The scent that came from you was familiar to Ingo. Something that he knew from his time in the water. His brain rushed with terrifying scenarios of a visit to a beach turning into you getting claimed by some horrifying fish hybrid. What if you loved them more than him, as they were proper hybrids unlike him?

● “D-dearest,” he stuttered out, gazing deeply into your eyes, “Did another hybrid claim you?” Your heart had clenched at his pathetic tone before bleeding into complete confusion. Claimed? By another hybrid? You certainly did not recall anything like that, and you told him just that. “You smell of another hybrid!” he cried, burying his face into your shirt. You realised then.

● “Ingo, that's my perfume,” you corrected him, “I think it had ambergris in it.” He turned his head up to you before going back to take another sniff of your shirt. His face was stiffer than it even usually was as the gears turned in his head. Soon, he politely released you and walked back to his desk, where he hung his head in shame. As much as you wanted to giggle at his overreaction, you felt a bit bad seeing him in such a state.

● Ingo politely requests you not wear it around him, too embarrassed about the reaction he had to it. He will never forgive himself for mistaking a digestive fluid for a mating smell.

[fructidors]

@radioactivegeorg cassette tips!!!

ok so. generally it is very easy to record cassettes. i for one was surprised about how easy it was. it is however a little timely but worth it because cassettes are god's most beautiful children.

you will need a cassette player obviously. i have bad experiences with the small walkman-type guys but i think that might just have been mine. this is the one i use to record them & play them most of the time

got it from my dad and she is my favorite firstborn son who is 30 years older than me. yeah you heard it right this bitch was made in the SEVENTIES and she hasn't let me down once except when she ran out of batteries that one time. as long as yr cassette player has a record button it should be fine though

you also need:

cassettes! fun fact you don't actually need blank ones (although they are a little easier) you can record over regular ones! i don't personally have experience with this though so here is an article on it

your Device! so Hypothetically i think you MIGHT be able to record from a phone if you have either a headphone jack on your phone or a very functional headphone jack to lightning adapter. again i have not personally tried this so i would recommend Computer

your music! Another Fun Fact you don't have to have any music downloaded to record it onto a cassette! cassettes will literally record any audio coming from your Device so all you need is a playlist from your streaming service of choice, a youtube playlist, a playlist of files on some media player, something like that. you could record a whole episode of television if you want no one can stop you. i will explain how to arrange yr music further on.

a cable that goes between the cassette player and the Device! typically a male-to-male 3.5mm headphone jack cable (gayyy). this guy.

this is probably the only thing on the list that isn't like. immediately obvious-- i got mine at a local guitar store but they're very cheap online

and of course fun things to decorate the cassette with!!! the Most Important part. i use sharpie paint pens.

OKAY!! step one!! get yr music organized. yr tape is probably either 60 or 90 minutes long or maybe 110 or 100 or possibly some other strange number if you're using a prerecorded tape. either way you need to make two playlists each the length of one side of the tape. so if i'm making a mixtape i usually make one big 90 minute playlist and then divide it up into 45 minute playlists when i'm done. if you're doing an album you Might be able to get one on each side (again depending on what length yr tape is). since the playlists generally end up a minute or so under the exact length my very favorite thing in the entire world to do is add a random song and let it play out in part at the end and not write it down on the tracklist. music dessert.

step two!! get those guys connected. my tape player has this hole labeled MIC

but yrs might not. so just plug one end of the cable into whatever hole looks like an audio input or headphone jack and hope it works. i am the farthest from an expert here. & then plug the other end into yr Device's headphone jack! congratulations you are now practicing Mad Science & yr devices are having transgenerational gay sex. (at least that is what it feels like)

step three!! play that audio!!! so this is the part where trial & error is key. because if you record your music on full volume it will sound Bad. i typically turn the volume on whatever platform my playlist is on way down. like.

but you don't want it Too Quiet or else you'll have to turn your player's volume so far up that the tape hiss will start to overpower the music. it's a balancing act. which is why you should...

step three point five make a test patch!! what i usually do is play the first ten seconds of the first song, ten seconds from the middle of that song, and ten seconds from one or two more songs on the playlist, just to get the full range of volumes & frequencies & whatnot. then rewind and listen to it back and figure out if it should be louder or quieter. this might not be super obvious right away (my first cassette Sucked) but it gets pretty easy to tell eventually.

step four record that bitch!!!! don't press play on your music the Second you press record because there's a bit of plastic at the beginning of the tape that can't be recorded onto so you'll lose the first few seconds of your music. this is also why you shouldn't have a playlist that's Exactly the length of a side but rather a little shorter or a little longer w/ a song you're cool with getting cut off. and then. you wait. my absolute least favorite bit. recording is basically the same as playing (in that the entire tape gets run through the player, at the same speed) except you can't listen to any music. you should also probably refrain from using the Device while recording to avoid any other sounds playing because like i said the tape isn't recording your music specifically, it's recording all the audio from the Device. i have So Many tapes with text tones interrupting the music :( generally i like to record tapes when i'm out or doing something off my computer or on occasion sleeping. once the whole side has been recorded there's a click (like when the whole side has been played) and you turn the cassette over, go to your second playlist, and do the whole thing over again!!

step five best step the reason we do it all DECORATE!!!! coolest thing about cassettes is you can decorate literally the whole thing. all the case all the card all the cassette itself!! anything that works on plastic should work. here are my children:

& yeah that's it!!! sorry this got so long & over-explain-y i just. love talking about cassettes. number one activity. lmk if you have any other questions!!

[ayakamizu]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 28 - Blunt

Blunt: Verb. To become blunt or dull. Characters: Ayaka Mizushima (WoL), Estinien Wyrmblood Expansion: Shadowbringers Rating: G Notes: Just a nice little moment between these two during the Shadowbringers patches (post-5.3 essentially)! No spoilers are mentioned.

“I think my legs are going to fall off,” Ayaka complained, lying across the ground. Her lance was discarded somewhere on the ground nearby. “They feel like they’re on fire.”

“Is that not… your speciality…?” Estinien questioned, not even looking her way as he continued with his pushups. She could tell he was sweating from the excursion and wondered how long his particular brand of stubbornness would last.

“You’re hilarious,” she drawled, staring up at the clouds lazily floating overhead. Some of them looked disturbed from her and Estinien’s jumping attempts. The clearing they found on the outskirts of Mor Dhona was free of any wanderers or monsters, which made it the perfect place to practice their jumping. Unfortunately, that meant they had free reign to goad each other as much as they pleased.

Which is how Ayaka found herself wondering if her legs were going to buckle under her if she tried standing up. She was definitely out of practice with her skills as a Dragoon.

She turned her head and looked towards her companion. Ayaka noted the way his arms were starting to quiver and raised a brow in Estinien’s direction. “Are you not tired?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, although his shaking voice gave him away. “I'm used to pushing through the pain.”

Ayaka refrained from mentioning that wasn’t something one should get used to, mostly because it would be hypocritical coming from her. Alphinaud—and now Alisaie, too—chided her enough on it. Instead, she took in the various scars that littered Estinien’s body. Most of them looked like they belonged to dragon claws and, while her time fighting against Nidhogg’s brood had been short, she felt herself wince in sympathy at a few of them.

“I suppose the rush of the battlefield does that,” Ayaka murmured, thinking of her own moments. The memory of that fight in Ghimlyt came to mind, her desperation overpowering the pain she felt from Elidibus puppetting Zenos’ body. She hardly remembered the fact that she collapsed on the battlefield.

She heard him grunt, this time with a bit more pain, and sighed. Ayaka tried sitting up—and immediately regretting it—and grabbed her lance. She twirled it around and used the pole to poke Estinien in the side, causing the man to give a tiny shriek (that neither of them were going to talk about ever) and lose his balance. He flopped on his side like an unimpressed cat before rolling over onto his back, arms spread out.

He looked over in her direction, a horribly displeased look on his face. “Are you mad?” he asked, glaring.

Ayaka shrugged, throwing her lance a little bit further away and flopping on her back as well. “Maybe.”

“That would explain a lot.”

“Twice now you’ve made a joke today! Is the world ending?”

Estinien groaned, a pained look on his face for a split second. “Knowing our luck? Yes.”

That got a laugh out of Ayaka, with Estinien soon joining in. True, they both were probably in much more pain than they realized at the moment, but for now she’d enjoy cloud watching to pass the time. Either the pain would dull more considerably or one of their friends would notice their absence went on longer than planned—whichever came first.

[matchablossomwrites]

Hi I hope you’re having a good day! May I request headcanons of TR boys and what their love languages may be? Thank youu !!

Oh my god! You're my first requestor! I'm gonna cry thank you so much ❤️ I hope this doesn't disappoint; I'll do my best 💗I must add that I got a bit suggestive with Ran- sorry 👉👈I hope you have a wonderful day or night annonie 🥺

Mikey's love language is either most likely quality time and physical touch. He would love just cuddling with you after he's ate and would just melt into your embrace because he feels safe and can be vulnerable with you ^^

As for quality time, he would 100% take you out on his precious bike at sunset so you two can just be together. Not only that but he loves the feeling of you hugging him vs him hugging you. All in all he's just a very wholesome boi 💜

Draken has already shown his love language (that is if you read the manga) I won't elaborate if you haven't though🤷. However it is without a shadow of a doubt acts of service and gift giving. He takes care of Mikey a lot so there's no doubt that he wouldn't do the same for you but he'd show it in different ways. I can see him as the type of boyfriend who would go to the store for you if you needed something or he'd cook dinner for you if you're running a bit late due to work and he just happened to return first.

As for gift giving, he may not seem like it but he's always listening to what you have to say. He's a very attentive individual and if you happen to say you liked something at a store he'd make a mental note of it for any special occasion that rolls around.

Shinichiro would most likely do literally anything for you pls XD It's stated in his bio and by various characters that he's weak to women (or in this case his s/o I don't want to assume anything). So if you just so happen to be his s/o he'll do anything for you 😌 You need groceries? he's on it! Are you feeling sad? He'll listen and give you a shoulder to lean on ^^ Though if I had to choose one that really overpowers the others though it would be gift giving. he strikes me as the type of person that when they fall in love, they fall HARD and they love to constantly remind you with how much they love you with little gifts. Since he's got his store to run and his siblings to take care of he doesn't have a ton of time to really spend time with you, so he opts for gift giving. In conclusion: he'd spoil you💖

Mitsuya I feel like would either be words of affirmation or quality time. He's busy with Toman and his siblings too, so he's got a lot on his plate making it a very special thing for him when he's able to spend time with you. He treasures that time together. Whether it just be something simple like going out to eat or something on a grander scale, he loves it. Not only that but Mitsuya's always had a way with words, so when he sees you struggling consider him an anchor. He'll be there for you and help you if you want him to. Also if he sees you doing something that he finds impressive or something he knows you've been working on for a long time now he'll praise you for it. pls he's such a sweet boyfriend ;-;

Baji's love language is most likely be quality time. Like most of the bois here he has a lot on his plate from school to Toman😣. So he probably really enjoys spending time with you. Most likely something simple like eating Yakisoba with you while watching tv on his couch or simply taking care of any strays that come into his house. Stuff like that is how he shows that he cares for you and loves you.

Chifuyu would show his affection in either physical touch or acts of service. Now picture this: You're in his room and you're all cuddled up with him on a fairly rainy day. He's reading his manga with one hand and playing with your hair and rubbing shapes into your back with the other as you lay in his lap. Suddenly he hears a soft meow coming from Peke J prompting him to look down at you. It then dawns on him that you fell asleep while he was reading. Chifuyu can only smile at this scene that's been displayed in front of him. 'it's like a scene out of Fruits basket' he thinks to himself. Once again he finds himself questioning how he got so lucky with a partner like you before putting his manga down and going to sleep next to you.

As for the acts of service he'd be the type who would help get something off of a shelf if you're too short (pls I need someone like him ;-;), if you're not feeling well he's there immediately to nurse you back to health, and he'd go as far as waking up a bit early to brew a cup of coffee for you both to help you wake up ;-;

Izana 100% would be physical touch and words of affirmation. Now let me tell you he's lost so much and you mean the world to him. He considers you the last of his family and he would literally do anything for you🥺. He also calls you his princess/prince. He loves days when he can just let down those walls he built up so high and be himself with you. That's what he really needs too. That and someone who won't leave him. Please just reassure him and give him love ;-; Also any words of praise from Izana is high praise- Like ok he's been shown to change lives in major ways, so imagine him praising you for something you've done. oh my g o d-

Ran loves quality time and physical touch. anything that involves him being able to touch you (sexual or not) he loves it. he's the type to sneak up on you in the morning, scare the SHIT out of you by hugging you while he just stands there all smug like "good morning sweetheart how'd you sleep~?" 🥲✌️He also loves it when you patch him up after a fight. He enjoys this because he can be with you plus he can see the amount of care in your eyes as you tend to his wounds and it makes him fall for you all over again ;-; As for quality time it can be something as simple as playing mario kart with him on the wii to something as deep as making love 😭❤️any time spent with you is something he loves. period- the good, the bad he loves it all

Rindou is a bit different from his brother in the sense that he prefers quality time and although this one isn't on the list of ones i've been choosing from, teasing. Now that's not to say he isn't clingy at times, but he seems a bit more closed off compared to Ran😭. But he loves the more quiet and calm nights in contrast to his more stressful and chaotic days. he can just relax when he's with you; let his hair down so to speak. And as for teasing, please it's literally stated in his profile that he's snarky. I can see him being like "hey nerd~" when he wakes up and walks by you only for you to quip back with something along the lines of "hey dork" Pls he needs someone who he can tease. he loves it when you tease him back XD you just need to know when it's good to tease him and when it's not.

A/N: I really hope you enjoyed this. I put a lot of time and thought into this 💖

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥Where Is Your Rider?🔥

A/N: HEY EVERYONE!!! So, I just wanted to thank you guys for the massive amount of support you guys have given me recently, I just managed to reach a pretty significant follower count!!! I don’t want to specify the number because I don’t want to make this into a competition, but I’m so happy and grateful for all of you guys and the love and support you have shown me! As promised, I plan to celebrate with a face reveal! I’ll specify when I’m going to do it (as I don’t know when I won’t be busy, lol) but it will happen soon! For now, enjoy this super angsty short one-shot I have written for you guys! This was supposed to be a really short drabble but because I have no self control whatsoever, this ended up being nearly 3,000 words instead of the 500 I planned for it. Also, this was inspired by the two songs, “Where is Your Rider?” and “Pale White Horse” by the Oh Hellos! I hope you enjoy, and again, thank you guys so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Pale White Horse” By: The Oh Hellos 🐉

Word Count: ~2.8k

~~~

Levi braced his hands on his knees, panting so hard his throat burned with dry fire. That had been close. Too close. To say that the expedition had been a nightmare would’ve been an understatement. It had been an absolute disaster. What was supposed to be a simple mission to retrieve some supplies from an abandoned battle station outside the walls had turned into chaos quicker than anyone could’ve ever anticipated as abnormals had surrounded them on all sides. Levi had tried his best to protect as many of his soldiers as he could, but even Humanity’s Strongest Soldier had been overwhelmed by the vast number of titans. Erwin had called for the retreat only minutes into the expedition, and yet they had still lost more men on this mission alone than they had during the past six months.

Levi closed his eyes, willing the tears back against the images of his fallen comrades, their broken bodies and screams of his name as they were devoured right in front of him. He had to stay strong, just for a little while longer. As soon as he got back within the walls and was able to retreat to his office, he would be allowed to break, to let loose the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But for now, he had to be the pillar of strength that his remaining soldiers could look up to for hope and reassurance.

He sighed deeply, forcing down the bile that rose in the back of his throat, and raised his head, his eyes still closed as he prepared what he was going to say to his squad. When he finally felt ready enough to face them, he turned with his head held up high to the pitiful number of soldiers left on the field. He opened his mouth to talk when all of a sudden, he noticed something.

Her squad wasn’t back yet.

Levi’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his mouth hung open as the words of his quickly prepared speech were immediately thrown out the window, his mind clouded with worry.

“Where’s Captain (Y/N)? And her squad?” Levi asked, prompting the men around him to stop what they were doing and look to their raven-haired superior. It was obvious that Captain (Y/N) and Captain Levi were together, that much was apparent from Levi’s subtle favoritism and soothed demeanor when she was around, but their relationship was often overlooked due to the professional manner in which they regarded each other when working during the day. Nobody was privy to what occurred behind closed doors - the clingy, loving nature that Levi adopted around (Y/N) when they were alone.

Levi felt a cold tremor trickle down his spine when nobody answered, some of their faces paling as they suddenly remembered their Captain’s relationship, panic laced in their eyes when they realized that nobody could answer Levi’s question. “Did anybody see where they went? Or could make a guess on which direction they could’ve gone?”

Levi tried to keep his voice steady when silence once again answered him, only the soft murmuring of the cadets asking each other for information filling the space. His breathing quickened and shallowed, making him feel light-headed, but he shook the feeling away. He needed to stay focused if he was going to find her. She was going to be alright, she had to be. He wouldn’t accept any other option.

“Alright then, everybody stay here. Commander Erwin should be arriving with the rest of you in a moment. When he gets here, someone tell him that I’ve gone to look for them.”

He whirled on his heel when he was met with murmurs of acceptance, aiming for his horse until a quick flash of movement caught the corner of his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized it was the movement of a horse racing for them, its hooves striking the ground with every beat as it galloped for them in a panic. Cold dread washed over Levi as the horse got closer, immediately recognizing the silvery white coat of (Y/N)’s stunning mare.

Levi was frozen in fear for the first time in his life as the horse came barreling towards him; riderless. He managed to snap out of it and quickly moved to intercept the horse, using his hands to jolt the frantic horse to a stop. Levi cooed at the mare, murmuring soft words of comfort as he approached her as slowly and non-threateningly as possible. When she had finally calmed down enough for him to touch her, Levi carefully curled his fingers around her reins and stood back to get a good look at the animal.

Her nostrils were flaring with every harsh breath she took, panting with both fear and exertion. Her eyes were wide enough to flash the whites around her irises at him, her gaze darting all around them as if expecting something to jump out at her. Levi felt his stomach clench hard enough to rip a whimper from him when he saw that her once gleaming silver coat was now soaked in sweat, mud, and fresh blood. Levi took a shuddering breath, his eyes closing.

“Danika, where is your rider?”

The mare’s only response was to jerk her head in panic, her ears pinned as she tried to rip herself from his iron grip. Levi bared his teeth, a few stray tears sliding down his cheeks. “WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR RIDER!?”

He knew shouting would only make things worse, but he couldn’t help himself, his fury and paralyzing fear driving him to the edge of insanity. Where was she? She had to be here, he wouldn’t accept this, couldn’t accept this. She was alive and well and perfectly fine, her horse was just acting crazy. It had to be some kind of trick, some kind of illusion meant as a punishment for the lives of the men he had lost.

He rubbed his eyes but to his horror, the image of blood soaking Danika’s fur didn’t disappear. He wanted to believe that it was Danika’s blood, that the poor animal had just been clawed up in battle, but he knew it wasn’t hers. She had no external wounds to speak of and the blood was pooled on top of her saddle and splashed along her flank rather than gouged from her flesh.

More tears started to stream down his face, the air in his throat hitching with every shaky breath he took. It wasn’t possible. No. She was alive. (Y/N) was alive. The love of his life was alive. Levi hung his head, his hair falling to curtain his expression as he choked on another sob. “Danika, please. Please. Where is your rider? Where is (Y/N)? She was with you, right? She has to be around here somewhere…”

He knew he must look deranged, talking to a horse and muttering to himself, but he didn’t care. All he cared about, in that moment, was finding out where the fuck his lover was. Another sob ripped through his body, his eyes squeezing shut even harder as more tears fell from behind his lids. He didn’t want to accept it, he couldn’t accept it, so why was his heart shattering as if he already had?

The sudden touch of a warm muzzle brushing against his face made him flinch and look up, only to be met with the sight of (Y/N)’s silver mare, watching him with a deeply sorrowful expression that mirrored his own, as if she too was grieving the loss of her rider. Levi wanted to scream, wanted to chase the mare into the woods, wanted to slash titans until his body gave out, but he knew he couldn’t do any of those things. It wasn’t the horse’s fault, no matter how much he wanted someone to blame.

“Please,” he whispered, his fingers coming up to curl against Danika’s soft muzzle. “Please tell me she’s alive. Tell me she made it back with you, you just got scared and left her behind. Tell me that she’s going to be okay. I-I can’t live without her, please.”

He was begging now but he didn’t notice. He just wanted some damn reassurance, some comfort, some support - all of the things that (Y/N) usually provided for him when he felt helpless. But (Y/N) wasn’t with him and he was floundering. His eyes were glossy with tears as he looked deep into the mare’s eyes, begging with both his voice and his gaze for the horse to give him something, anything to work with.

“Levi,” the deep voice right beside him made him jump, too lost in his hysteria to notice that Erwin had slipped up next to him, his face dark and grim. Levi’s eyes were frantic as they searched Erwin’s gaze. He knew the Commander had seen (Y/N) last, her squad had been flanking his during their initial departure. Erwin swallowed. Hard.

“Levi, I’m so sorry but…” The Commander dug around in his pocket until he found what he was looking for and pulled out a small piece of fabric with (Y/N)’s name written on the back. It was (Y/N)’s wings of freedom patch. Levi carefully took the patch in both of his palms, tears flooding his cheeks as his whole body started to shake.

“S-She saved her squad, Levi. They were being chased by a hoard of abnormal titans and she darted off to act as bait. Her p-plan was solid, but there were just too many of them and they overpowered her,” Erwin said, his jaw clenching when he stuttered a few times, fighting back his own tears. He lifted a hand and rested it gently on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing once. “Levi, s-she’s gone.”

Levi immediately shook his head violently in response, refusing to believe it. She wasn’t dead, she couldn’t be. She had promised him that she would stay alive, that she would never leave him alone, especially after all he had lost. She promised. Erwin walked forward, hands outstretched to keep Levi from doing something rash, but he wasn’t fast enough as the raven crashed to the ground, collapsing under the weight of his grief.

A loud, miserable howl tore from his throat and filled the valley, making the soldiers around him flinch as they silently mourned, a few of them even beginning to shed tears as they watched their normally stoic, steadfast Captain break for the first time since they’d met him. Levi ignored everyone as he sobbed out for the world to hear, his head buried in his hands and his body shaking violently with the force of his sorrow.

He didn’t want to accept it, didn’t want to acknowledge what everyone was telling him was fact. He didn’t want to think about anything but getting her back in his arms as soon as possible. It was all he wanted, to feel her warmth pressed lovingly against him, to hear her murmur gentle words filled with more love than he’d ever expected to receive in his life, to see her eyes light up brightly whenever she saw him. Without her, he was nothing. He knew that if he accepted this, that he would be accepting the loss of his very soul. It was too much for him to handle, he had finally been broken.

The pain was unbearable, he couldn’t take it anymore. Without (Y/N) by his side, he had no will to live. Fuck fighting the titans, fuck finding a new, better world, fuck being Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. Fuck everything. None of it was worth it if (Y/N) wasn’t wrapped safely in his arms.

“Levi…”

He heard Erwin coo at him, his hand outstretched to guide Levi to his feet, but the raven quickly ripped his arm from the Commander’s grasp, his eyes filled with an icy fire that would make Death itself shiver.

“Lead the retreat, take my men back to the walls.”

“Levi, what are you-?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Levi snapped aggressively as he tore his cape from his back and draped it over Danika’s blood soaked saddle.

“Levi, (Y/N)’s dead. You need to come back with us, if you don’t, you won’t make it.”

“That’s the point,” Levi said as he pulled himself into the saddle, once again avoiding Erwin’s attempt to grasp him.

The blonde’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, his jaw dropping at his Captain’s words. “If you think for one fucking second that I am going to let you kill yourself over some girl-”

“Don’t you dare speak about (Y/N) that way,” Levi said, his voice a deadly calm. “She is not just ‘some girl’. She’s the love and light of my life and I’m not leaving without her. I’m going to bring her back, no matter what it takes.”

Erwin opened his mouth to argue, but wasn’t even able to get the first word out before Levi had kicked Danika into a gallop, aiming right for the forest she had come from just minutes earlier. Nobody could do anything but watch as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier tore off into the woods, dread settling in their stomachs at the thought of having to fight without his support. Because they all knew, even if Levi made it, he would never be the same. Unless (Y/N) was somehow magically still alive, Levi would never be the same man he once was. His responsibilities and future didn’t matter to him anymore, not if they didn’t include his love.

Erwin sighed and shouted for his men to retreat, knowing that sending more men to retrieve Levi would only end in more casualties, by both titans and Levi himself. All he could do was trust that his friend could hold his own and would make it back. The soldiers of the remaining squads did as he asked without hesitation but the air was thick with tension as they galloped back to the walls, unsure of how to process the loss of their two strongest Captains.

[jisungsplatforms]

Pairing: Lee Felix x succubus! reader

Genre: NSFW! smut

CW: use of religious themes (do not read if sensitive to this topic)

Warnings: Mature content! language, implied wet dreams, oral sex (m. rec), degrading, corruption kink, implied public sex at the end, religious Felix going through 139380 thoughts of self-conflict but ultimately his curious horny side wins

*just small reminder that the acts that will take place in this fic is all consensual!

Felix believed that he has always been a good boy.

He has never done any bad. Never lied, never let jealousy over take him, never let greed consume him. He has never even given into the temptation of lust. The ideal young man, if his parents do say so themselves. So why was he cursed to have such ungodly nights?

Lately, Felix had been experiencing some rather strange dreams. Every night, the silhouette of a person appears. Each scenario different from the one prior, but always ending with him pinned down onto the floor of the altar by the silhouette. It was disgusting. Immoral. Sinful.

Oh how much he hated to admit that he was infatuated.

The heels of his shoes thumped as he walked down the carpeted floor of the cathedral. Stopping right in front of the altar, Felix sighed guiltily, staring up on the large wooden crucifix hanging on the wall. He was anxious. He thought that he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near the presence of the Lord. Taking a few steps back before fully turning around, Felix walked down from the short flight of stairs to the wooden pews, wanting to sit on the left side of the second row. He cautiously sat down, looking around in search of his priest. Not finding a single trace of any human contact in the old building, he grunted, deciding to lower down the kneeler to pray to pass some time.

Felix took a deep breath, inhaling the strong scent of the church’s candles; which he, in his honest opinion, rather disliked due to the aroma being way too suffocating for his sensitive nose. He closed his eyes, letting his forehead rest on his clasped hands. He quietly mumbled his desperate attempt for forgiveness until he heard footsteps echoing behind him. At first he ignored them, wanting to finish off his prayer, til he felt a strong presence beside him.

“Hello.”

He looked up to see you, smiling at him with radiance. He felt himself blush. “Oh- uh. Hello?” Felix stuttered. He mentally slapped himself for feeling so nervous around you. You giggled warmly, finding him adorable.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you. Please, just continue on with your prayer,” you spoke softly as you went to sit on the row infront of him. Felix nodded, going back to resume praying. In reality, however, he couldn’t even finish; he just wanted an excuse to not make conversation with you, the encounter way too awkward. for him. “Are you alright?” he heard you ask. He snapped his head up to see you looking at him worriedly.

“Yes!” He cringed at the way his voice cracked. “I mean, yes. I just feel a little...stiff. That’s all.”

You hummed in response. “Is it because of the terrible nightmares you’ve been experiencing?”

Felix gasped. “How did-?”

“I could feel your aura,” you laughed. “You’re uneasy. You feel like you’ve committed a terrible sin, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah! Wow how did-?”

“I’m the reason you’ve been having those dreams,” you smirked. Your once warm, welcoming aura turned ominous. Felix’s expression morphed into one of curiosity and fear.

“Wh-what?”

“Poor little Felix,” you grinned sinisterly. “Was as pure as child’s laugh now as corrupted and filthy as the earth you walk on.” You stood up, your shadow looming over Felix’s trembling form. Now he knew why your presence felt so familiar, it was because he was consumed by it every night. He slowly looked up to see your seductive smirk.

He gulped. “Are you-?”

“Y/n. At least, that’s the human name I go by, doll.” You stretched your arm out to caress his freckled face. Goosebumps erupted all over his skin. A pang of excitement shot down between his legs. You giggled, “Oh?”

Felix looked down in humiliation, already knowing what triggered your reaction. You slid out of the pew to where the flustered boy was at. “What’s this baby boy? Already excited from the bare minimum?” You scoffed. “How pathetic.”

He didn’t know his the tears stinging his eyes were from fear, embarrassment, or sexual frustration. You sat beside him and whispered, “Did you really think that going to this worthless place would cleanse you of your sins? Having a confessional with a priest—or, better yet, even talking to the big guy himself?” You giggled darkly, roughly grabbing his face. “That’s all full of shit.”

Felix stuttered, “Why? Why me? What have I done to deserve this?” You threw your head back, laughing almost maniacally.

“What did you do? Nothing!” Your eyes crinkled as you smiled widely. “You were just such a darling young man that I just had to have you. Call it a corruption kink, if you will.” You licked your lips, watching him cower. You could feel the mix of fear and arousal surge throughout his body. “How would you like it if I grant you the pleasure of materializing your desires?”

“Materialize- what desires?”

“You know what I’m talking about, baby boy,” you sang, caressing his thigh. “After months of feeding off of you in your slumber, don’t you want to feel the real thing?”

“Uh- huh? N-no! I-”

You hushed him. “No more talking now, doll. Let me have my treat,” you giggled as you slowly sank down to your knees.

All Felix could do was watch as you kissed his inner thighs. He licked his lip, conflicted. This is a demon for fucks sake! He is a child of God— he should not let the temptation of an antichrist overpower him! That thought was trashed as soon as you kissed his throbbing member. Felix hissed, not expecting the feeling to be so good. You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“What? Poor little virgin thought that felt good?” you sneered. “Baby, that was nothing.” You chuckled as you undid his pants. Felix lifted his hips to help you painstakingly slide his pants down slowly. You bit your lip, eyeing the small wet patch on his boxer-briefs.

“Oh just wait until you feel the real thing,” you teased, licking his dick over the cloth. His breath hitched, a pitiful whine threatening to come out. You giggled sadistically, moving back just a smidge to literally rip his underwear off of him. Caught off guard, Felix jolted, eyes shot open in astonishment. He wanted to get mad that you’ve just blatantly ruined a piece of his clothing until he felt your tongue run across his penis. He moaned unabashedly, the feeling of your skilled tongue licking him up drove him mad— it nearly made him forget that he was still in church, just casually getting a blowjob from a succubus.

You smiled, looking up at his blissed face. Your tongue glided on the long vein on his cock, the feeling triggering him to buck his hips. He let out a deep, raspy moan, sweat already forming on his forehead. You licked that particular vein a few more times until you felt bored. Wanting more, your red tinted lip wrapped around his tip, gently sucking, before licking his slit and finally taking him into your mouth. Felix gasped heavily, now getting the chance to feel your hot, wet mouth around his dick.

He whimpered, the feeling of you slowly bobbing your head was enervating. He wanted more. He debated on grabbing a fist full of your hair until he felt your giggles, the vibration sending waves of pleasure between his legs. You pulled him out of your mouth with a lewd pop.

“Don’t be shy,” you said cheekily, placing his right hand on your hair, “pull as much as you want, doll,” Immediately, your mouth was latched back onto his pretty cock, bobbing your head faster.

This time, Felix moaned even louder, hand wrapped around your hair. You giggled again, causing him to hiss, tightening his grip on you. He was panting, your presence, your touch, everything was overwhelming. It was, ironically, like heaven. He suddenly felt you moving faster, your tongue occasionally swirling around his tip. The only sounds that could be heard were Felix’s whines, which were practically 6 octaves higher from his usual tone, as well as your vulgar slurping and sadistic giggles.

The pressure in his lower stomach was tightening. He was desperate, wanting nothing more than to release in your mouth. It was filthy—undignified—really how much he allowed himself to succumb to a creature like you. He didn’t know if he hated you more or himself, but one thing he knew was that there was no going back now.

“Y-y/n,” he breathlessly whispered, “please. I-I think I’m gonna—“

You unlatched yourself from him, Felix briefly whining in despair when you did so, only for you to pump his dick in a fast pace. “Aww, what? Gonna cum, virgin?” you smirked, “Gonna spill your cum all over my hand, yeah? Lick it clean after?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, the filth coming out of your mouth was too embarrassing for him to listen to. He was borderline crying from the pleasure, shaking his head for whatever reason. All he knew was that he wanted to ejaculate, and he was not far from doing so.

“Look at your pretty little cock twitching for me, baby. So pathetic.” Amidst your stroking, you proceeded to suck his tip once more, wanting to catch every single drop of his cum. His hips bucked erratically. He was close— so damn close. A hum and a single lick to his slit as all it took to break him.

Felix came with a moan so loud, so high pitched, that it was obvious that he no longer gave a fuck if anybody saw or heard them. His back arched deliciously, body spasming as you pumped him through his release. His ragged breathing filled your ears, grinning as you watched beads of his sweat rolling down his reddened cheeks. Before climbing onto his lap, you gave the head one final kiss. You roughly grabbed the back of his head to smash your lips with his. He slightly cringed, tasting himself on your tongue. Licking his lips, you pulled away, breathless.

“Come, Felix…”

The church smelled strongly of incense when he first walked in. Now it smelled strongly of sweat, cum, and sin. The both of you were now behind the communion table on the altar, right beneath the cross. Felix tightly shut his eyes, finally allowing himself to fully let the lust consume him whole. He felt so fucking disgusting—was he really letting himself fuck a demon inside the House of God? You smirked, running your tongue against your lips as began to undress both your bodies. Your eyes glowed maliciously.

“My bad little boy…”

[ynscrazylife]

Hey I was wondering if you can do a Bucky x reader

The reader has powers like Wanda but stronger but can you make them also gender neutral if that’s okay. Im not looking for anything specific for the plot but can u put some angst and fluff.

Sure!

Fighting A Losing Battle

Summary: S.W.O.R.D. has called Y/N in to stop Wanda Maximoff and their boyfriend Bucky insists on accompanying them.

Since gender neutral was requested, I won’t write this with any specific gender and you can imagine it to fit your gender!

Permanent Taglist: @stephanieromanoff

MCU Taglist: @procrastinatingsapphictrash @okkulta @sarahp-stan

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) HERE!

“I don't like this,” Y/N muttered as they reread the email from Tyler Hayward for the umpteenth time, their boyfriend Bucky sitting next to them, his metal arm around their shoulders, and his fingers playing with their hair.

Because Y/N had similar powers to Wanda in that they both had energy blasts and their powers connected to the mind, Hayward wanted Y/N to come in and essentially take down Wanda because Y/N’s energy blasts were stronger than Wanda’s. However Y/N wasn’t fond of fighting their friend. 

“Neither do I,” Bucky agreed. “Which is why I’m coming with you.” 

Y/N smiled, leaning their head against Bucky’s shoulder. They knew they couldn’t talk Bucky out of this and wasn’t sure if they wanted to. 

“I can’t help but think that if I had been there for Wanda more after Vision-” Y/N started to say, feeling the tears starting to form. God, ever since the Avengers brought everyone back - Y/N and Bucky included - all Y/N had felt like they were doing was crying. First for Natasha, then Vision, and now Wanda. 

“Don’t do that to yourself, doll. You tried to reach out and be there for Wanda and there was only so much you could do,” he said, hugging them close. 

Y/N sighed, nodding. “I just- I don't get why she would do this to all those people,” they said, eyes flickering back to the email detailing in a harsh tone what exactly had happened to Westview and Captain Rambeau.

“Grief does unimaginable things to people - especially those with Wanda’s abilities. She probably didn’t mean what she did, and you’re gonna go make her realize that,” Bucky told them comfortingly, pressing a kiss to their forehead. 

Y/N rubbed their face with their hand, a million questions about their current situation running through their head. Hopefully they could fix it. 

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

As Y/N and Bucky walked into the S.W.O.R.D. base, they entered right as Captain Rambeau and Hayward were in a heated argument, and the couple paused to listen to what they were saying. As Y/N listened, they found themself starting to agree with Rambeau. Hayward didn’t just want Y/N to take down Wanda, he wanted Y/N to . . . to . . . they couldn’t imagine it, and Y/N didn’t want to hurt their former teammate and friend. 

As Hayward began to get ready for another argument, Y/N made their presence known. They stepped forward, towards Rambeau and Hayward. “If you want me to cooperate with this investigation, know that I will first try to talk to Wanda and then I might fight her if it is necessary. Nothing more,” they said. 

Hayward frowned, turning to look at Y/N, then at Rambeau and Bucky and finally at the other S.W.O.R.D agents nodding who were nodding in agreement with Y/N. “Fine,” he hissed with venom. “Don’t come crying when your way fails and you end up dead.” Bucky would’ve went after him as he walked off had Y/N not grabbed his arm and squeezed his hand in a comforting manner. 

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

When Y/N entered Westview, they were able to retain their memories due to their own powers, but their communication with S.W.O.R.D. (and Bucky) was lost. Thankfully it wasn’t that painful to enter Westview and Y/N was able to shake it off, but now they had to find Westview. 

As they walked and looking around, they tried to blend in. Everyone walking around town looked normal, but knowing that they were not, and that there was some kind of underlying darkness in the fake cherry facade sparked some fear inside them. Finally, Y/N reached Wanda and Vision’s house and knocked on the door, a bit hesitantly.

When Vision opened the door, Y/N almost choked on air as they tried to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape their lips. Y/N quickly recovered and smiled at the robot. “Hello, I’m looking for Wanda Maximoff. Is she home?” 

Vision nodded and directed them inside, telling them they could sit on the couch while he called for Wanda and then went into the other room. 

When Wanda came down the stairs and saw Y/N, her smile instantly turned into a frown and she stilled. Y/N saw this and calmly stood up. “Wanda-” 

“Did they send you?” Wanda cut them off in an off-putting calm tone, titling her head to the side as she slowly walked down the rest of the stairs. 

Y/N didn’t answer that. “I”m here to help you, Wanda,” they said. 

Wanda’s eyes briefly flashed red before she composed herself. “There is nothing you could do to help me. I have Vision and I have the perfect life,” she said, monotone. 

Y/N shook their head in argument. “You're a hero, Wanda! You don’t want to keep hurting all these innocent people. Besides, you’re not coping with Vision’s death in a healthy way.”

“He’s NOT dead!” The redhead cried, advancing towards Y/N, hands beginning to glow red, making Y/N still. 

“I’m your-” Y/N tried to say, but again Wanda cut them off. 

“DO NOT SAY FRIEND!” 

The outburst made them both silent and, glancing at Wanda’s hands, Y/N conjured their own powers, their hands now glowing silver. “My energy blasts are stronger than yours - please, don’t make me fight you. We can talk,” Y/N tried once last time, slowly moving back. 

Wanda smirked. “Your energy blasts may be stronger, but you cannot protect me from your mind,” she said, sending an energy blast at Y/N. 

Instinctively, Y/N went to block Wanda’s powers with their own. Wanda used this to her advantage and let one of her hands continue sending the energy blasts. Immediately, Y/N started to easily overpower her and before Y/N could finish that, Wanda used her free hand to send a different energy blast their way (which Y/N didn’t notice because they were too preoccupied with Wanda’s previous energy blasts), and it soon hit Y/N’s forehead and entered their mind, making them falter.

Y/N fell to their needs without realizing it and slowly stopped fighting Wanda, being overtaken by the memories flashes throughout their mind. First they saw the love of their life disappearing. 

“Bucky? What - your hand! What’s happening to you?” 

“Don’t worry about it, love.” 

“You’re disappearing! BUCKY!” 

Y/N remembered how they screamed and how they tried to hold onto Bucky, they remembered how painful it was, having to watch him die.

“NOOOOOOOOHHH! BUCKY? BUCKY!”

 They remembered moments after they Bucky disappeared they cried because they had lost, and then recalled how scared they were when they saw their foot disappear, and then their hand, and soon their entire body.

“We l-lost. GODDAMNIT WE LOST! BUCKY . . . no. No please. PLEASE YOU TOOK HIM WHY DO YOU HAVE TO TAKE ME TOO? - PLEASE DON’T-”

Y/N gasped and when she blinked, the memory was over. They glanced up at Wanda in tears, feeling weakened, and suddenly Wanda blasted them through the wall and towards the barrier. Y/N tried to use their powers to stop Wanda and it started to delay her until Y/N saw another memory. They screamed as they were forced to relive it and felt the pain from Wanda’s powers, and their screams got choked by sobs when they hit the barrier, which was much more painful now that they were leaving Westview from when they had entered.

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

As soon as Bucky saw his partner blasted back into the outside world, heard their screams, and then saw them hit the ground with a sickening thump, he ignored the orders Hayward was yelling out and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. When he reached Y/N, he noticed that they were half-conscious. 

“Bucky . . . You’re alive,” Y/N said tiredly.  

Bucky had no time to be confused over what they meant and scooped them up in his arms, cursing under his breath when they passed out. He then headed straight for his car, not trusting S.W.O.R.D. to help Y/N with what Wanda’s magic did when they didn’t know how to handle her, and went to Sam’s place. Sam would help, right? He had patched up Steve and Nat in 2014, after-all.

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

About an hour later when Sam had helped Bucky patch Y/N up, Bucky laid Y/N in Sam’s guest bedroom and took to sitting at their bedside, looking at them. Despite being unconscious, they were peaceful, and Bucky took Y/N’s hand in his metal one, smiling sadly. 

All he could think about was whatever could have happened? Y/N was stronger than Wanda, why didn’t they win? And then . . . when Y/N had said that Bucky was alive . . . did Wanda make Y/N think that he was dead? That very thought made Bucky tense up, anger flaring through him at the redhead for hurting Y/N and doing whatever else he had done. 

However, when the soldier looked back at his partner, all that anger melted away. Just looking at them calmed him, because he was reassured that they were safe and that they were okay. Bucky thought and then pressed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. Now it was just time to wait for them to wake up.

[rafael-silva]

lean into me, I’ll catch you: a tarlos fic

The 126 paramedics get called to the scene of a bar fight, tension rising during the drive. The chaotic scene is cluttered with police presence, TK spotting Carlos’s patrol car upon arrival. Once inside the bar, TK gets thrown a sudden and painful curveball.

for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + hidden scar

hurt carlos reyes, worried tk strand, paramedic tk, hurt/comfort, emotional/hurt comfort, kisses, whump, comfort, angst with a happy ending

6.5k | rated T | on ao3

*****

The call comes in a little after lunch.

The crew had just finished cleaning up, all of them hanging out in the common area, keeping busy with various activities. Tommy is chatting with Judd in the corner, while TK, sitting on the kitchen counter, is engaged with Nancy in their own conversation. They restocked the ambulance after their last call and after making sure everything was on track there, relaxed and fell into an easy exchange filled with their usual playful banter and quirky back and forth. TK laughs at one of Nancy’s statements, his eyes wrinkling at the corners which elicits an equally hearty laugh from his partner.

Then the bell goes off, calling the paramedics to a scene of a bar fight with multiple injuries. TK hops off the counter and he and Nancy meet Tommy in the ambulance bay, TK sliding into the driver’s seat, Nancy into the passenger one, Tommy closing the doors behind her as she gets into the back. The sirens blare loudly as TK presses down on the gas petal and drives towards the heart of downtown Austin.

Halfway into their trip, the ambo radio springs to life.

“Be advised,” a dispatcher starts, “incoming report of an officer injured on scene.”

“Copy that,” Nancy replies into her radio. “We’re five minutes out.”

She looks over at TK and notices his grip on the steering wheel tightening and his facial expression hardens as he squares his jaw at the new information. She knows what’s going through his mind.

“We don’t know that it’s him,” Nancy says in a low, calm voice.

TK replies with a firm nod, swallowing. Having no further information on the identity of the injured officer or how bad the injury is, TK feels his head spiral towards the worst case scenario.

Silence falls upon the rig, the atmosphere turning sharp and tense and TK makes no indication of speaking or doing anything besides driving, really, his focus solely on arriving at the scene.

He tries his hardest to control his thoughts, but all the what ifs tug at him and feed into his fear of losing Carlos. He wills his heart to stop thumping against his ribcage as he rounds the corner, the bar in sight now. They’re so close, yet it feels eternities away.

TK parks next to a couple of other ambulances that have responded, the common red and blue lights bouncing off the buildings around. TK jumps out, making quick work of grabbing the medkit as Nancy shoulders the lifepak and Tommy emerges from the back. He’s fast on his feet, making his way through the bystanders and police presence and into the bar, Tommy and Nancy hot on his heels.

The scene is chaos, and it’s almost like a tornado had ripped through the bar. Broken chairs scattered around the space, turned tables, shattered pieces of glass littering the ground, crunching underneath TK’s boots as he strides in.

He pushes all that aside, heart hammering in his chest again as he holds his breath, and having seen Carlos’s patrol car outside moments ago, immediately scans the wrecked place for the officer.

Relief floods his body when his eyes land on Carlos standing with Officer Mitchell near the bar stools, both of them talking to two men, one wearing a red jacket and the other a baseball hat, as the officers attempt to calm them down and diffuse the situation. What little relief TK felt is quickly replaced with concern then, reading the tension in the air and knowing that his boyfriend is quite literally in the middle of it.

It appears those two men are the origin of the havoc, judging by the amount of cops hovering near them, taking statements from people around. TK notices how Carlos’s shoulders are rigid and his face stern as he speaks, sharing a fast look with his partner before returning his attention to the man in front of him.

TK looks away for a moment, to where the other officer is injured and that second is all it takes for a roar to erupt behind him and all hell breaks loose again.

TK isn’t exactly sure what happened as he turns around, but Mitchell jumps into action to keep Mr. Baseball Hat back while Mr. Red Jacket yells heatedly at the other man, scrambling to free himself from Carlos’s hold.

It takes TK’s mind a second to catch up with what’s happening and his heart sinks further seeing Carlos in the middle of the brawl.

TK wants to push through and pull Carlos to safety but he’s suddenly aware of a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place. He doesn’t need to look to know that it’s Tommy. She most likely had read his mind, his team knowing him so well by now, as she anchors him next to her.

TK is vaguely aware of Nancy saying she’ll check over the hurt officer, but his eyes never leave Carlos, watching with drawn eyebrows as his boyfriend attempts to move Mr. Red Jacket backwards to separate to two angry men. He feels helpless standing there, although he knows deep down that he can’t get involved in the middle of this fight, that he doesn’t have the training for this, he wishes there were something he could do to protect Carlos. To make sure Carlos is okay and safe.

TK trusts that Carlos can handle himself, but it still doesn’t make this situation any easier. The two men don’t appear to be slowing down, fueled by rage and adrenaline, it appears that they’re overpowering Carlos and Mitchell.

Officers rush over to aid Carlos and Mitchell, but they reach them a little too late. TK feels his heart drop as he watches his boyfriend’s face morph into a wince, his eyebrows drawing together and eyes going wide at a realization. Carlos is momentarily frozen in place as the two men are taken down around him. But he doesn’t move after, blinking slowly now. And that’s the thing that keeps TK on edge.

TK himself stunned, remains in place, his eyes moving with Carlos as the taller man searches the crowd, eyes hazy, not really looking for anything in particular. But TK sees a spark of recognition when Carlos’s eyes eventually land on him.

TK can tell that Carlos relaxes ever so slightly, his brown eyes meeting TK’s worried green ones. The world narrows to the both of them, the sounds around them mute, movements in slow motion, and TK tries his hardest to understand what just happened. Because something isn’t right, Carlos not having moved an inch and is seemingly unaware of what’s happening around him. TK sees Mitchell speak to Carlos over her shoulder as she hauls Mr. Baseball Hat away, but Carlos makes no indication of having heard her.

And then TK gets his answer, catching the slow movement of Carlos’s hand moving to his stomach, and TK’s eyes widen at the large patch staining the officer’s uniform there.

It all clicks together then.

Stab wound, TK’s mind supplies.

The paramedic is all too aware of his quick breathing now, and his heart dropping into his knees as he watches Carlos sway dangerously to the side as he loses his balance, the patch getting bigger with each passing second.

And the way Carlos’s arm weakly reaches out towards him has TK springing into action, fleeing from Tommy’s hold as he pushes through the crowd to catch Carlos.

“Carlos is hurt!” He yells over his shoulder to his Captain, his heart in his throat now.

TK gets to Carlos just as he’s tumbling forward towards the dirty floor. TK drops his equipment as both arms instantly reach out to steady the officer, Carlos falling against his chest but TK, ready for the impact, keeps their balance as he takes on Carlos’s weight.

“Hey, hey,” TK says softly. “I got you, I got you.”

TK gently lowers Carlos down, the sudden appearance of the paramedic and Carlos nearly toppling over capturing the attention of the officers around as they regain their collective breath from handling the two men.

“Reyes?” TK hears someone call from above as he places his palm over Carlos’s stomach and applies pressure, receiving a groan from Carlos.

That grabs Mitchell’s attention and she turns around, grip still on the man and her eyes go big at seeing TK and her partner on the floor. She hands him off to another officer before she’s rushing to their side.

“Carlos! What the hell happened?” She asks TK, her voice filled with shock.

“He’s been stabbed,” TK replies, eyes not leaving Carlos’s face, who’s growing paler by the second. “Hang on, Carlos. You’re okay, just hang on.”

Before anyone else can speak, Tommy’s voice echoes.

“Coming through!”

TK only looks up then, seeing Tommy and Nancy crouch next to them and open the medical bags.

His attention back on Carlos, TK’s breath catches in his throat when he sees Carlos looking at him, eyes glassy, doing his best to focus on TK.

“TK?” Carlos breaths, his voice frail, almost afraid that he’s imagining the paramedic.

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m right here,” TK is quick to comfort him, reading between the lines.

TK gives Carlos the best smile he could muster, hoping it’s not as shaky as it feels to him.

“Hurts,” Carlos wheezes, shutting his eyes when he feels added pressure on the wound.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, babe,” TK replies. “We gotta control this bleeding.”

Carlos sighs, face rolling to the side as he peels his eyelids open, finding TK again amidst the fog that is his vision.

The blood seeping through his fingers bring tears to TK’s eyes, and he swallows against his dry throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. It feels like Carlos is slipping from him, and he’s overcome with so much fear, visible in the shaking of his hands. His whole body feels like it’s on fire, heart racing and sweat rolling down his neck and back. He shakes himself out of it, knowing he has to stay strong and calm, for Carlos’s sake.

“You’re okay,” TK sniffs. “Stay with me, baby. Focus on me.”

“Always…you,” Carlos murmurs.

“TK, I need you to remove your hands for a moment,” Tommy instructs.

He meets her gaze with wide eyes, frantically shaking his head.

“I can’t—he’ll—he’ll lose more blood, I have to keep applying pressure,” TK responds, a tear escaping his eye.

“I’ll be quick,” Tommy promises. “I need to inspect the wound.”

After a moment, TK reluctantly pulls his hands back, immediately taking note of how Carlos’s face relaxes a little once the pressure is removed.

TK holds his breath, hand finding Carlos’s and gives it a squeeze, a reassurance that he’s right by his side. Carlos uses all the energy he could muster to return the squeeze.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” TK says as Tommy works, Nancy taking Carlos’s vitals.

Once Nancy finishes and reports Carlos’s numbers, which are low, she hands TK a large piece of gauze and then secures the IV line she started, prepping Carlos for transport.

“Okay,” Tommy nods once she’s done, moving back and TK doesn’t waste a second in covering Carlos’s wound with the gauze and pushing down.

The almost lack of response from Carlos is alarming, and TK looks at Tommy with broad glistening eyes, fear radiating from his green irises.

“He’s going into shock. We need to move now,” Tommy instructs.

A gurney seems to materialize next to them out of thin air, but TK minds no attention to where it came from as he and a couple of other officers lift Carlos off the ground and onto the gurney. The crowd parts as they move, TK keeping constant pressure on Carlos’s abdomen. Mitchell trails closely behind them, clutching her radio as she speaks into it.

They push Carlos into the ambulance, Tommy following and TK getting in after her.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Mitchell tells TK.

He nods as Nancy slams the doors shut and races to the driver’s seat.

The ride to the hospital is agonizing. TK watches as the oxygen mask Tommy placed over Carlos’s face fogs and clears with each weak breath he draws in, his face ashen and skin clammy to TK’s touch. The bleeding had slowed down a little, but there’s no way of knowing what kind of damage has been done internally.

Tommy discards the blood soaked gauze in favor of a fresh one, placing it over Carlos’s stomach and the pressures earns them a hiss from Carlos.

“You’re okay, babe, you’re okay,” TK says, running his thumb along Carlos’s knuckles. “We’re almost at the hospital, everything is going to be just fine.”

“Tired,” Carlos’s voice filters through the mask.

“I know, but you gotta say awake. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Carlos would do anything for TK, so he obliges with a small nod. He sucks in a wobbly breath, and lets it out slowly, eyes latched onto TK. There’s so much worry and fear engraved into TK’s forehead, the height of his fright on full display and Carlos wants to ease that pain and wants to wash away TK’s panic. So he gives TK his best smile, its small and uneven but TK understands.

“You’re okay,” TK nods.

They reach the hospital a few minutes later, the ambulance coming to a halt at the Emergency entrance and the doors are torn open a moment later.

It’s a fury of action from there, Tommy and TK pushing the gurney as Carlos fights against the darkness threatening to take over. He’s semi-aware of Tommy passing the information to the medical team as he’s being wheeled through the hospital hallway, then he directs all his attention to feeling TK’s hold on his hand, warm and steady, strong and reassuring. He sees TK’s face in his line of vision a few seconds later, he’s speaking but the sound doesn’t reach Carlos’s ears.

Then TK’s face is gone as quickly as it had appeared, along with his grounding hold.

A shiver runs through Carlos’s body and he realizes just how cold he is at the loss of TK’s touch. It’s the last thing he’s aware of as he loses the battle with the impending darkness, his eyes slowly slipping shut.

TK feels a piece of his heart being violently torn from him watching the team wheel Carlos away and into an elevator, taking him straight to surgery.

The doctor had reassured them they’ll do everything they can for Carlos, and those words weigh heavily on TK’s shoulders. He knows nothing is guaranteed, knows no promises can be made.

His head falls forward, his chin hitting his chest as he pleads and pleads that Carlos’s time isn’t up, that Carlos won’t be ripped away from him. Because this can’t be Carlos’s end, this can’t be their end. They’ve only just begin, there’s still so much he wants to do with Carlos, so much he wants to see and experience with him.

TK pleads that the I love you he just spoke won’t be the last time, or the last thing, he tells Carlos.

TK is looking at the elevator long after the doors have closed and he feels a hand land on his shoulder, the same way it had earlier at the bar.

“Come on, TK,” Tommy’s speaks in her motherly tone. “They said we can go to the waiting room on the surgical floor.”

TK nods, but makes no indication of movement. It’s when he sees Tommy and Nancy move towards the elevator that he does move, but in the direction of the stairs.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll take the stairs,” he says.

“Okay,” Tommy nods. “The stairs it is.”

TK turns to see Mitchell rushing over, and she quickly notices the drop in the paramedic’s shoulders.

“Is he…”

“They just took him to surgery,” TK tells her.

She nods, the concern for her partner clear on her face.

They climb the floors in silence, the echo of their boots on each step the only sound until they reach the surgical floor, easily finding the waiting room near the nurse’s station. They file in, TK dropping into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and resting his elbows on his tights. He leans forward, his hands folding into each other and he closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath.

He opens them and stares at his hand a few moments later, his stomach churning unnaturally at all the blood coating his skin, Carlos’s blood. He shudders and looks up when a few wet wipes appear in his vision.

Nancy is standing in front of him, holding them out with a sympathetic expression on her face. He gratefully accepts them and starts wiping the blood, the wipes turning pink with each stroke.

Once he’s finished, Nancy disposes the wipes in the trash, returning and taking a seat next to her partner. TK’s leg starts bouncing, his nervous energy palpable and evident in his movements and in the way he worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I, uh,” TK breaks the silence, his voice small and low. “I need to call Carlos’s parents. I’ll be right back,” he gets up and walks out of the room, and with one more look in the direction of the operating rooms, makes his way downstairs and outside.

The sun is still hanging high in the sky when TK steps out of the emergency room entrance. It hasn’t been an hour since the paramedics arrived at the bar, but it feels like it's been a lifetime for him. It’s hot and the atmosphere is sticky with humidity, his Austin Fire t-shirt under his uniform clinging uncomfortably to his body.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opts to sit down on a nearby bench, opening his phone contacts and finding Andrea’s. His finger hovers over her name for a few moments as he steadiest himself, bringing the phone up to his ear once it starts ringing.

The line comes to life after a few rings, and the words get caught in TK’s throat.

“TK!” Andrea greets, her voice cheery and upbeat. “How are you, amor?”

“Mrs. Reyes,” TK starts and then pauses, letting out a shaky sigh. “Andrea…”

Andrea immediately picks up on TK’s broken tone, the concern hugging her next words. “TK, are you okay?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m okay, it’s…” TK’s voice quivers. “It’s Carlos. He…we were on a call and he got hurt.”

“Dios mio,” Andrea breaths out and TK can hear hustling in the background now. “What happened?”

“It all happened so quickly…we got called to a bar fight, and PD was already there, and Carlos and his partner were talking to two men. It seems like the fight was over but it suddenly started again and Carlos was in the middle of it,” TK sniffs, letting the tears run down his face. “We’re at the hospital now, I don’t—I can’t—” he hiccups.

“Breathe, TK. Take a breath,” Andrea guides him.

TK can hear the strength in Andrea’s voice, but he can also tell it wavers a little, the worry apparent alongside the steadiness.

“I’m sorry,” TK recovers. “I’m okay.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, TK. And Carlitos will be okay, too,” Andrea replies. “He’s strong.”

TK holds onto her words with everything he’s got. He knows those words are for him, just as much as they are for her, as well.

TK nods, and it momentarily slips his mind that Andrea can’t see him. “Yes, ma’am. He’s the strongest person I know.”

“That’s it,” Andrea says. “Now tell me, which hospital are you at?”

TK returns to the waiting room after hanging up with Andrea, his eyes going a little wide with surprise when Owen and Judd get to their feet at his reappearance.

“Dad? Judd? What…” “I called them,” Tommy supplies from her seat. “It goes without saying that you’re off duty now, and we thought Owen should be with you.”

“But doesn’t your shift start soon?” Owen shakes his head. “I’m staying right here, Judd’s going to be Acting Captain during this shift.”

Deflated and drained, TK doesn’t find it in him to argue.

“I was on the phone with Judd when Tommy called and when I told him,” Owen starts.

“I wanted to be here to see how you were holding up, and to be here for Carlos, too,” Judd continues.

A ghost of a smile passes over TK’s face. “Thanks, Judd. That means everything.”

“Always, brother,” Judd replies, wrapping TK in a warm embrace.

TK feels like a little boy in Judd’s arms, holding onto the Texan and drawing strength from him. Judd tightens his grip on TK, knowing the younger man needs it and pats him on the shoulder a few times. TK nods against Judd’s shoulder in understanding.

*****

“I’m sorry.”

TK frowns, turning to face the source of the words.

“What are you talking about?” TK asks Mitchell.

They’ve been alone for twenty minutes; Judd had to leave for shift, while Tommy and Nancy got a call soon after and left, but not before TK promising to call or text if he needs anything and to update them on Carlos’s condition. Owen had left a little after that, on a quest to find food. Which had left TK and Mitchell sitting in silence.

“This is all my fault,” Mitchell shakes her head. “I didn’t see it, I was right there and…I let Carlos down, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, no,” TK gets up from his seat and moves to the one next to her. “This wasn’t your fault, and you didn’t let him down. I know you always have his back, and that makes it a little easier watching him go to work every day. This…this is only one person’s fault, and it’s that man’s who intentionally hurt Carlos.”

Mitchell’s gaze remains on the floor, unable to look into TK’s eyes. “I was right there,” she repeats. “I should have seen it. I was right next to him. I can’t help but wonder if I had just been quicker…”

“It was chaos, everything was happening so quickly and it was a blur. I don’t even think Carlos saw it coming. It…came out of nowhere,” TK sighs. “I was watching you both and I looked away for one second, and I keep wondering if I just hadn’t looked away…maybe I would have seen it,” he confesses. “I was further away, maybe I would have caught it. The man moving to grab the knife or something.”

Mitchell does raise her head then and looks at TK, finding identical unshed tears in his eyes as in hers.

TK sighs again. “The truth is, what ifs aren’t going to help us now, and they won’t make this any easier. They’ll just drive us down a spiral that has no end, trust me, I know. All we have to focus on now is Carlos. He’s going to be okay.” TK turns to look out into the nearly empty hallway. “He has to be,” he whispers.

He sees Mitchell nod from the corner of his eye.

Mitchell was gone by the time Owen returns, carrying a couple of brown paper bags and three cups of what TK can tell is iced tea.

Owen frowns when he only sees his son there. “Where did Officer Mitchell go?”

“She had to leave, their Captain called. He needed her at the precinct to take her statement about what happened,” TK answers. “She’ll be back as soon as she can.”

Owen nods, setting everything on the table in the middle of the room and hands TK a cold cup.

“Thanks,” TK gratefully accepts the beverage and takes a small sip, reveling the coolness running down his parched throat.

“You should eat something,” Owen gestures to the paper bags.

“Maybe in a little bit, I’m not really hungry,” TK shakes his head.

Owen purses his lips but doesn’t push, instead he settles for a nod and a gentle pat to TK’s shoulder.

TK is nearly done with his iced tea when hurried footsteps break the drape of silence that had fallen on him and his father.

He looks up and sees Andrea through the glass window, a moment before she’s stepping into the room, her handbag clutched tightly at her side, brown eyes wide and face heavy with worry.

“TK, Owen,” she pants as both men get to their feet. “Any news yet?”

Owen shakes his head. “He’s been in there a while, we should be getting an update soon.”

Andrea nods and throws a glance over her shoulder in the direction of the big swinging doors. She sighs, turning back to look at TK, but he isn’t looking at her.

Instead, TK is looking down at his hands hanging in the air at his middle, busying themselves as he anxiously runs his fingers over each other.

“TK,” Andrea says softly as she approaches him. “Look at me, amor.”

Slowly, TK lifts his gaze to Andrea’s, a tear rolling down his cheek.

She gives him a small, sad smile and cups his face, wiping away the fallen tear. “It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

That’s all it takes for the dam inside TK to break, a sob tearing from his throat as his body shakes with the force of his tears.

“Come here,” Andrea whispers, placing her hand at the nape of TK’s neck and gently pulls him towards her.

He goes easily, returning the embrace as she wraps him in a hug and soothingly runs her other hand up and down his back.

“I got to him as fast as I could,” TK says, voice muffled against Andrea’s blouse.

“I know in my heart you did everything for our Carlitos,” Andrea replies as she pulls back, but keeps TK close.

“I wish,” he sniffs. “I wish I could have done more.”

“From what Tommy told me,” Owen’s voice comes from behind them, “you did everything in your power for him, TK. You saved his life.”

TK drops his head. “If I had seen the knife…maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Carlos would be safe, not in surgery.”

“You can’t put that weight on your shoulders, TK,” Andrea says.

TK then realizes that Andrea doesn't know the details of what happened. He meets her eyes and after a moment, explains. “He was…stabbed in the middle of that fight. I was far away from it, I didn’t take my eyes off him the whole time but I looked away for one second and that’s all it took. Maybe if I hadn’t looked away…”

Andrea is shaking her head, a tear sliding down her face but she keeps her attention on TK. “You got to him as quick as you can, remember? I hate that Carlitos got hurt, it aches my heart, but I’m glad you were right there, and I’m glad it was you, that you were by his side, doing whatever needed to be done to make sure he comes out of this okay. From what I’m hearing, it’s true, you saved my mijo, TK. And he’s going to pull through.”

TK nods and moves in for another hug, he and Andrea taking comfort and support from each other, leaning on one another. Their strong hold on each other is the only thing keeping them from shattering right then and there.

***** The silence, save for the beeping of the heart monitor, is eerie and daunting in Carlos’s hospital room.

TK’s been sitting by Carlos’s bedside for a little over ten minutes, but he hasn’t been able to utter a single word since falling into the chair situated by the bed.

It was two agonizing hours after Andrea’s arrival that a very exhausted doctor entered the waiting room and called for the family of Carlos Reyes. Perhaps TK’s silence had something to do with him still digesting the doctor’s report.

It was touch and go for a while but he made it through. Significant blood loss. Concerns about infection. Low blood pressure. Part of the colon was perforated but was successfully repaired. Jagged entry. Will leave a scar. Expected to make a full recovery with time.

TK focuses on the expected to make a full recovery portion of the report, not daring to believe any other outcome. It’s difficult, though, watching Carlos so still in front of him. The officer is a calm sleeper, but there are always small movements here and there, a soft sigh, a little twist and turn, an arm thrown over TK’s middle that pulls him close, and the absence of any of those movements is unnatural. Even his breathing is different.

TK takes small comfort in the fact that Carlos is breathing on his own, but it’s nothing like how he breaths while sleeping in their bed. The rhythm beats to a different drum, it’s not relaxed and peaceful in this hospital bed, it’s strained and on edge.

TK steadiest himself,  reaching out and taking Carlos’s hand into his own, giving it a light squeeze, hoping the officer can feel it.

“Hi, baby,” TK starts but abruptly stops, taken a little aback by how gruff and heavy his voice sounds. He clears his throat before speaking again. “I’m right here, and you’re okay. The doctor told us everything went well and that you’ll be back on your feet in no time. Your mom is here, in the waiting room and your dad will be here soon, too. I…I really need you to pull through, babe. I need you. And I miss you. Come back to me, ‘Los,” TK brushes a soft kiss to Carlos’s forehead.

TK can’t help the disappointment that brews in his gut when he doesn’t get a response.

A gentle knock an hour later breaks TK from his haze, he looks to the door and sees Andrea and Gabriel standing there, meeting TK’s eyes for a moment before they drift to their son.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reyes, please come in,” TK says as he gets to his feet, hand still holding onto Carlos’s.

“How’s he doing?” Gabriel asks, his usual strong voice a little frail and low. The Ranger’s shoulders are fallen, too.

“He’s hanging in there,” TK reassures him. “His vitals are holding and he’s regaining color, all good signs.”

Andrea nods, stepping closer to the bed and cards her fingers through Carlos’s curls.

TK doesn’t want to leave Carlos’s side, but he knows his parents want and need some time with their son. Making up his mind, he looks at Andrea and then Gabriel.

“Please stay for as long as you need,” TK says. “I’ll go home to freshen up, change and pack a bag for Carlos and I.”

“TK…” Andrea tries but TK is quick to gently shake his head.

“You need some time with him,” he says with a small smile. “And I’m sure he’d love to hear your voices.” TK leans down and plants a kiss to Carlos’s cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit, babe.”

Gabriel squeezes TK’s shoulder when he walks by him, and TK replies with a nod in understanding, smile still on his face.

“And TK,” Andrea speaks before TK leaves the room. “Please try to eat something, too. You barely touched the food your father bought earlier.”

“Yes,” Gabriel agrees. “You have to keep your strength up, for your sake and for Carlitos’s. To take care of him.”

TK gives them another nod and his smile widens a little. With a last glance at Carlos, he leaves.

*****

The sun is climbing in the sky when it happens.

TK had given up on sleep, opting to walk around the room for a while to stretch his tired muscles before settling back in the chair next to Carlos’s bed. He’s scrolling aimlessly through his Instagram feed when his eyes catch the movement.

At first, he thinks his brain is playing a trick on him. Or maybe it’s the not sleeping. But then it happens again, and that has TK sitting up straight in his place, leaning forward towards Carlos.

“Carlos? Baby, can you hear me?” TK speaks, his voice a little rough around the edges.

He holds his breath as he watches Carlos wrinkle his nose, as he sometimes does before waking up. A few moments pass and then Carlos is slowly opening his eyes, finding TK’s through his blurry vision.

“TK?” Carlos whispers, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah, I’m here, baby, I’m right here,” TK smiles at his boyfriend, eyes beginning to fill with tears. “You’re okay.”

TK reaches out and cups Carlos’s face, tenderly caressing his cheek. A tear rolls down TK’s face when Carlos leans into his touch, and feeling Carlos’s warmth against his skin lights up the flame inside him, the one that was dimmed the moment Carlos got hurt.

“What…” Carlos trails off as he swallows.

“You got hurt on a call, babe, but you’re okay now. You’re safe. I’m right here, I got you,” TK reassures him.

“You…always do,” Carlos gives TK the strongest smile he could muster.

“And I always will,” TK promises. “Get some more rest, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up again.”

Carlos nods weakly. “I love you,” he expresses as his eyes begin to close.

“I love you, too,” TK reciprocates, bringing Carlos’s hand up to his lips and brushes a kiss to his knuckles.

And for the first time since he watched Carlos sway at that bar, TK can finally properly breathe.

*****

“Looking good, babe,” TK smiles from where he’s standing in the doorway of their bedroom, leaning against the doorframe.

Carlos smiles back, catching TK’s eyes in the mirror in front of him.

“Fits the same,” Carlos says, adjusting his name tag pinned to his uniform.

TK nods and steps into the bedroom, walking over to his boyfriend and wraps his arms around his middle from behind, pulling him into his chest.

Carlos leans back, placing his arms over TK’s as TK rests his chin on the officer’s shoulder.

They watch each other in the mirror as a comfortable silence settles over them and then TK moves his head slightly to place a kiss to Carlos’s clothed shoulder.

Then TK’s eyes roam down to Carlos’s stomach and he can almost see the hidden scar underneath the layers of Carlos’s uniform.

“I’ll be fine, Ty,” Carlos whispers, knowing very well where TK’s thoughts are taking him. “Everything checked out and I’ve been cleared for active duty.”

TK nods, but his eyes remain fixed where they are, and now TK can see the scar in his mind, etched into his memory along with the fear of almost losing the love of his life.

It’s his day off, and TK had hoped he’d be working the day Carlos went back into the field, just for the possibility of seeing him on calls and making sure he was okay with his own eyes.

The weeks following Carlos’s injury weren’t easy, for either of them. A bad infection had set in shortly after Carlos had woken up, which warranted a few more days at the hospital. Once the infection was treated, Carlos was cleared to go home, with strict instructions to take it slow and easy and  to have someone with him for at least the first week of his recovery. TK took time off, staying by Carlos’s side, and still shaken up himself, didn’t stray far for both their sakes. He, too, needing to make sure Carlos was okay, that the worst was over and behind them.

He had to return to work eventually, Carlos constantly telling him that I’ll be okay, I’ll call if I need anything. I don’t want to keep you from work, from people who need your help more than I do now. Which TK promptly replied to with I’m exactly where I want and need to be, babe.

TK and Andrea worked out a schedule a week later, to make sure Carlos was always taken care of and someone was close by as he healed.

Carlos did eventually begin to lean on others and to ask for help when he needed it throughout his recovery, which made Andrea and TK breathe a little easier.

It was hard for TK to leave him, his mind constantly on Carlos when they weren’t on a call. He always looked forward to going home to Carlos and taking him into his arms.

After a few trips to the doctor’s and reassurances that Carlos was healing up well, he was assigned to desk duty. He wasn’t the biggest fan of it but he was glad it meant one step closer to getting back into the field.

TK had his own reserves about that, trying to breach the conversation with Carlos but the words seemed to always stop in his throat. Until one night, while cuddling on the couch watching a movie, the words just spilled out of TK’s mouth.

I’m scared for you. I’ve always been scared for you but that day…I mean, knowing it could happen and actually seeing it happen are two different things and babe…

Carlos understood. I know how scary it was that day. I was scared. And there are no guarantees, in both our lines of work. I can’t promise that nothing is going to happen, but I can and will promise that I will always fight my hardest to come home to you. Every day.

After a final check up and a physical exam, Carlos was cleared for active duty two weeks later.

Which is how they find themselves wrapped in each other’s embrace, Carlos getting ready for his first shift back out there.

“Just…be careful, please,” TK says, lifting his eyes to meet Carlos’s beautiful brown ones.

Carlos breaks out of TK’s hold then, turning around to face the younger man and takes his face gently into his hands, both thumbs running over his cheekbones.

“I promise,” Carlos vows.

Carlos leans in, closing the distance between them with a soft kiss. It’s not urgent or heated, it’s calm and grounding, filled with reassurance and love.

TK smiles against Carlos’s lips as he returns it, getting lost in his boyfriend, soaking up everything Carlos is offering and giving his own.

Their foreheads touch when they pull back and they breathe together. They feel each other and their love, anchoring each other.

TK’s hand gravitates to Carlos’s middle, to the location of the scar and his fingers brush lightly against the fabric covering it. Like his own bullet scar, it’s a reminder of how close he and Carlos had gotten to losing each other, how close they had gotten to losing this. But thinking back to that moment on the couch, TK takes comfort in knowing he and Carlos would do anything and everything in their power to come back to one another.

TK believes in them, believes in their love. And while he gazes into Carlos’s eyes now, getting lost in his captivating brown irises, knows beyond a doubt that Carlos does, too.

That knowledge gives TK the strength to brush another soft kiss to Carlos’s lips and then pulls back, making sure his boyfriend’s uniform is pristine.

“I’ll be right here when you come back home,” TK cups Carlos’s cheek.

Carlos seals the promise with a kiss to the inside of TK’s palm.

[rosy-cheekx]

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing. 

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin.  It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

--

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

--

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

[all-that-tmnt-jazz]

I see a lot of hcs based on fem readers with Daddy Issues, but how would the guys react to having a male s/o with Mommy Issues?

💚💙❤️💜🧡

Warnings: Swearing. Emotional abuse. Signs/descriptions of physical abuse.

Incarnation: Bayverse

Extra Info: Masc!Reader.

You Speaking; Mother Speaking

Leo:

He could tell your mental state was declining

You were becoming more and more isolated within yourself

You became more protective of yourself

You flinch when people around you move too fast

You refuse to go into his arms when he offers you a hug

So, he decides to talk to you about it

You tell him everything’s fine

“Well, obviously that’s wrong. Anyone can tell.”

You just don’t respond

You go back to your mother’s apartment

It was no longer home to you, just a place of residence

It has been for far too long now

That night, Leo came to the apartment

He found the window of your room open, so he knew you weren’t completely pushing him away

He entered your room silently, knowing your mom was likely right down the hall

But when he looked at your bed, he found it empty

He went to the door of your room, which- luckily- remained closed

He pressed his ear to it, trying to listen to the other side

He heard yelling

His heart started racing, and he considered leaving your bedroom to come to your aid

But then he realized it was your voice

You were defending yourself

But then a louder voice overpowered yours

His heart dropped into his stomach

“You are such an ungrateful child! I give you everything you ever need and you still ask for more! I give you a roof and a bed and food, and yet you expect that comes for free!”

“I know it’s not free! I just want-”

“You want everything you don’t need!”

“I want a fucking mother!”

“You have one!”

He heard a loud slap of skin against skin

Then footsteps

Then the door handle turning

He backed away from the door, praying it was you

And it was

You were near tears, and they were about to spill over 

But then you saw him, and you closed the door behind you as hard as you could without slamming it

“What are you doing here?” you whispered to him, harsher than you would have in any other situation

“I was worried about you, Love. And this proved me right.”

You start crying.

He offers you his arms

You nearly fall into them

He holds you close, whispering words of comfort and protection into your hair until you fall asleep

Raph:

You had always been a bit closed off when it came to talking about your parents

He figured that you didn’t talk about them because no one really really liked talking about their parents

So, he let it be

But then he goes to your apartment one night while your mother is out, and he sees it

A large bruise on your cheek and jaw that looks like a handprint

He feels like he could fight the entire population of New York City if it meant hurting the person who hit the person he loves

But you stop him, telling him it’s happened before and it’ll happen again

That only fuels his fire

He demands to know who did it, but you refuse

He starts begging you

You have never seen him beg

When he finds out it was your mother, he breaks

He has to go up to the rooftop and start screaming

You’ve seen him angry, yes, but never like this

He goes back to the Lair, seething

He wants to ask Donnie to search down your mother’s place of work so he can give her hell

But you had told him to keep it between the two of you

So, he made sure he was able to help take care of you 

Patching your physical wounds, and was gentle with you to help heal the emotional ones

This lasted a few months

Then, one night, you arrived at the Lair with a backpack on your shoulder and a duffel bag in hand

Leo was the one who found you collapsed on the ground, as he was the first to enter the Lair after patrol

Raph, however, was the one who picked you up like one would a young child

He brought you to Donnie’s lab for a check-up and told Mikey to put your bag onto Raph’s bunk

Leo got you some snacks from the kitchen

When you were deemed alright, Raph was left alone with you

He asked what happened

“I got away… I went to police headquarters, and Jade recognized me- Vincent’s assistant. I… She’s been arrested, Raph…”

Raph’s eyes widened

“She… She is?”

You nodded, nearing tears

“I left after a fight worse than usual- I’m covered in bruises, and I have months worth of evidence on my phone. They took her in for child abuse and we go to court next week.”

He takes you in his arms to hold you but is very careful to not hurt you

“I’m so proud of you, darling,” he says to you

“I…. I’m going to be emancipated… I’m free…”

You had never heard him cry before

Donnie:

He notices the signs right away

He sees your eyes glaze over when he mentions your mother

He sees you hesitant to leave the Lair when you know you have to go back to your apartment

He sees you flinch whenever Raph and Leo start going at each other’s throats

He sees you flinch when Mikey moves too fast around the Lair, especially if he’s going vaguely in your direction

He takes you into his lab one day to talk about it

“It’s nothing, I… My mother and I have a weird relationship, that’s all.”

That’s all you would say about it

A few weeks later, you come to him, seething

You make him stop whatever he’s doing and press him against his lab table, capturing his lips in your own

You two participate in Adult Fun Time™ right on his lab table

It isn’t your first time doing this together, but it is the first time that it happened suddenly

“What was that for?” he asks you afterward

“I… I wanted to prove my mother wrong, even if I’m the only one who knows that it happened,” you tell him

He gives you a slightly confused look

“I… She… She told me…”

He sees how anxious you got 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it-”

“She told me no one will love me, and that no one will want to be with me. Physically.”

Donnie’s heart breaks a lot more than he’d like to admit

He pulls you to his plastron and sits in his chair, holding you

“I could never imagine leaving you. You are perfect- especially to me.”

Mikey:

If Mikey and Raph’s room had a door, you would have slammed it as you entered

You were glad Mikey was alone in the room, laying on his bed while using his phone

You fell onto his bed next to him, letting him habitually wrap his arms around you

He felt how tense you are and immediately turned off his phone

“Talk to me, angel,” he says to you

You huddle into him, letting him hold you a little bit tighter

“My mom’s being a prick again.”

“What did she say?”

You hated how close you were to crying

“She… I showed her the song I made. She told me it’s awful and I won’t make it…”

Mikey kissed your hair

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“I fucking know that…” you mutter

He continued to hold you, whispering words of comfort until you fell into a dreamless sleep

That conversation happened a few years ago now.

You were finally able to move out of your mother’s grasp and drop contact with her, but you remained in the city

You were becoming more and more successful

And then, you get a call: you were going to become an official artist

A record company heard your work and wanted to officially produce your music

Mikey is the first person you told

He celebrated with you

A few days later, while you were at the Lair, you get another call that was rather unwanted

“Y/n, when were you going to tell me you were becoming official?” your mother asked you

“I wasn’t.”

“How come? I always knew you would make it-”

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

With that, you hung up

Mikey, who overheard the conversation, let you scream into his pillow and he rubbed your back

[jaskicr]

fae witcher jaskier

aka the most self indulgent thing i’ve ever written in my entire life as i combine my favourite tropes of fae jaskier, witcher jaskier, and identity porn

the school of the manticore is experimenting with alchemical formulas to create witchers, not just from humans, but from other humanoid creatures as well (such as elves, fae, and vampires)

jaskier is a curious fae who wanders into the human world, but he’s taken by some manticore witchers and experimented on

but they didn’t expect him to be such a powerful fae and he resists their efforts to experiment on him, so to subdue him, they brainwash him

they take his memories of being fae, making him docile, and successfully turn him into a witcher

the mutations make jaskier’s fae features even more prominent - he has pointed ears, horns, deadly sharp teeth, claws, and he’s very tall, with fully black eyes (like he’s under the effects of a potion) and white hair

due to this, he’s ostracised even amongst the witchers in the manticore school - with the exception of those who experimented on him, they all think that the mutations made him monstrous and they don’t know that he’s fae

at this point, he’s mutated beyond both a fae and a witcher, he’s clearly neither - fae features are generally delicate and elegant, whilst jaskier’s have been made deadly and lethal by the mutations

with the brainwashing, jaskier is very compliant and he lets the witchers train him without complaint

he’s very good at signs, and he’s able to do magic outside of the signs for reasons that he doesn’t know

his trainers are afraid of his magic and try to suppress it, but jaskier’s magic is too connected to nature for them to sever the bond

so when he finally sets out on the path, his trainers keep a really tight leash on him, knowing that his power could mean that he might break out of their control and go back to the fae

jaskier’s appearance is so obviously other that he’s immediately hated by humans, but because of the brainwashing, he’s very passive in the face of their hatred

he just weathers the horrible things that humans call him and how they assault him, and it doesn’t even hurt him because he’s so conditioned not to feel anything

this happens for many years, with jaskier taking contracts and enduring the hatred from humans, and returning to the manticore keep to be conditioned/brainwashed further every winter

one day, tissaia stumbles upon this fae/witcher whose mind is completely and utterly blank, and it just feels wrong

and she knows that whoever did this to jaskier must have been unspeakably cruel, so she takes him in

jaskier is very confused by tissaia’s actions - on the one hand, he’s so used to be docile and passive that he doesn’t want to resist tissaia, but she’s not his trainer so he knows that he shouldn’t trust her

but tissaia calms him, treating him far more gentle than anyone has ever treated him, and jaskier’s instincts tell him to trust her

tissaia quickly grows fond of jaskier, who’s inhumanly tall and monstrous but oh-so-sweet and gentle, and she slowly undoes his brainwashing and helps him become more human

but jaskier’s trainers realise that his brainwashing is being undone, and they decide to go after him

tissaia, who’s now become protective of jaskier, portals them far away, refusing to let them take him

jaskier is slowly coming to his senses and regaining his memories as they escape, and he becomes desperate not to go back to his trainers

they stumble upon vesemir, who takes one look at jaskier and decides to adopt him, and the three of them run all over the continent to escape jaskier’s trainers, who want jaskier back under their leash

but tissaia becomes exhausted, and she tells jaskier that the only way he can escape his handlers is to let her strip all their brainwashing/conditioning from him completely

but it might take years or even decades, and it would hurt his body a lot, so she offers to transfer his consciousness to a human body while she works on healing his witcher body/mind

and jaskier agrees, because he’s so close to remembering his fae family and fully regaining his magic, and he refuses to be under the control of the manticore school again

so he’s reborn as julian alfred pankratz in lettenhove, while tissaia and vesemir fake jaskier’s death and spread rumours of it across the continent

jaskier, now human, grows up without any knowledge of his past, even after he goes to oxenfurt, even after he starts travelling with geralt

tissaia checks in on jaskier every once in a while, and vesemir asks after the bard who’s travelling with geralt to keep tabs on jaskier

however, tissaia hadn’t anticipated how strong the brainwashing had been, so it’s taking decades for her to strip it away without utterly destroying jaskier’s mind

one day, geralt is hunting a fae, who lures geralt and jaskier into the fae realm

the fae realm somehow manages to connect to jaskier’s consciousness/his magic, and all of a sudden he regains his memories from his life in the fae realm (but not his memories from being a witcher)

so he remembers growing up as a fea, he remembers his family, but there’s a huge gap between that and his life as a human bard

as geralt is trying to find the fae, jaskier is stumbling around, confused by his identity and his sudden influx of memories, but he knows that something is missing

while this happens, tissaia feels a surge of magic in jaskier’s real body and realises that something must have happened, and jaskier’s body starts destabilising

and she knows that she needs to put jaskier’s consciousness back into his body before it implodes due to the magic

meanwhile, as jaskier stumbles through the fae realm, recognising different places that he used to go to, he suddenly catches a glimpse of his sister, all grown up

and he tries to leave geralt to talk to her and tell her that it’s him, but right before he can do that, tissaia grabs his consciousness and yanks it back into his real body

jaskier’s human body drops dead once his conciousness leaves it, and geralt hears his breathing and his heartbeat stop, and he grieves

in a fit of grief and fury, he hunts down and kills the fae who had lured them here

this angers the rest of the fae, and geralt is quickly overpowered by them and he’s taken to a dungeon

and he just sort of accepts his fate, letting them take him without putting up a fight, because jaskier is dead

as he’s awaiting trial, geralt thinks that he won’t even mind being exeuted. after all, jaskier is gone, and what’s the point?

at the same time, jaskier wakes up in his real body with tissaia hovering over him, his last memory being seeing his sister and being in the fae realm with geralt

all his memories return to him in one go, and it’s so overwhelming to have three lives (fae, witcher, bard) in his head and jaskier has a bit of an identity crisis

and then he remembers that geralt is alone in the fae realm, which immediately makes him forget about his identity crisis for the moment as he readies himself to go after geralt

tissaia tries to stop him, telling him that he needs to recover, but jaskier needs to get to geralt right now

when he tries to walk, he stumbles a bit, forgetting how tall he is in his real body, but he powers through - even if his coordination is awful, he needs to go and save geralt. who knows what the fae could have done to him by now?

and he portals himself to the fae realm where he left geralt behind, only to see his own dead body, and the dead body of the fae that geralt had been hunting - but no one else

when he smells geralt’s tears, he realises what must have happened, and he panics since the fae must have taken geralt, but he doesn’t know where

he tracks down his sister, who doesn’t recognise him at first due to the changes the mutations had given him, but when she does, she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly in a tearful reunion

(it’s very cute, jaskier is tall enough that he dwarfs her and can pet her head)

jaskier’s sister tells him what happened to geralt, and jaskier heads off to save his witcher

none of the fae expect geralt to be rescued, so it’s laughably easy for jaskier to sneak to the dungeon and find geralt

and while he’s on the way to the dungeon, jaskier wonders whether geralt would hate him now that he’s little more than a monster

so when he does find geralt, jaskier pretends not to know him, and due to jaskier’s different appearance, geralt doesn’t recognise him despite a faint sense of familiarity

he’s confused why this large, not-quite-a-fae is helping him, and geralt can tell that he’s sort of a witcher, but not really

but jaskier’s dead, and geralt really doesn’t want to be rescued, so he pleads, ‘please, leave me to die’

jaskier is horrified and picks geralt up, knowing that he can’t just let geralt die, and geralt is fighting him - he doesn’t even know this fae/witcher

jaskier portals them to his sister’s house, and geralt passes out from his injuries

jaskier and his sister patch geralt up, all while his sister teases him for having a crush on geralt, which jaskier tries (and fails) to deny

when geralt is unconscious, jaskier sings to him, the way he always had whenever he used to treat geralt’s injuries after a hunt

and geralt, fading in and out of consciousness, thinks he hears jaskier, but surely that can’t be true - after all, jaskier’s dead

when he fully regains consciousness, he sees the large fae witcher who’d rescued him

‘who the fuck are you?’ he demands, slightly pissed that he hadn’t been left for the dead

and jaskier, who still doesn’t want geralt to know who he is, panics and introduces himself as julian

it takes him a while, but jaskier manages to convince geralt that he’s trustworthy - after all, the fae can’t lie, and when jaskier tells geralt that he’s safe, that he doesn’t mean any harm, geralt tentatively relaxes

with geralt still injured, he can’t leave the house even though he just wants to go back to kaer morhen and grieve jaskier, so he stays

jaskier helps him around the house whenever he needs to get around, and geralt is too weak to stand on his own, so he leans on jaskier as he walks (jaskier is tall enough that geralt only comes up to his chest, which geralt finds very nice and warm)

and as days pass, geralt realises that, despite his imposing size, julian is soft and gentle and caring, and it makes his head spin, because only jaskier has ever been this gentle to him

meanwhile, jaskier is having an internal crisis - over his identity, over his memories, but also over geralt

because he knows that geralt thinks he’s dead, so jaskier concludes that he can pretend to be a whole new person who’s decidedly not jaskier, and geralt would never know - after all, jaskier’s human body is dead

and jaskier thinks that’s better for both of them, because he doesn’t want to taint geralt’s memories of human jaskier since he’s a monster now

jaskier’s sister is just done with him, she tries to slap some sense into him but he insists on not telling his true identity to geralt

so geralt feels safe around julian in a way he’s only ever felt around jaskier, but he doesn’t suspect anything

(there’s one morning when geralt wakes up to julian spooning him from behind, and he feels so safe, so cared for. he feels seen)

as he recovers, he realises that he really doesn’t want to leave - julian is so nice to him, and geralt wants nothing more than to stay here with julian

but part of geralt feels like he’s betraying jaskier, even though he’s dead - julian makes him feel like jaskier did, and gods, he misses jaskier so much

so geralt pretends that he’s reocvering slower than he really is, and jaskier pretends not to know what geralt’s doing, and one day, geralt stumbles and falls backwards, and jaskier catches him

geralt realises that their faces are really close as he stares into endless black eyes, and he’s unable to stop himself from pulling julian into a kiss

all while he tries not to feel guilty about it, because he feels like he’s kissing jaskier, but it’s julian

and jaskier is stunned that geralt would even want to kiss him in this form, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he kisses back, and internally decides that he won’t ever tell geralt who he really is

jaskier and julian can be two separate people - let geralt remember jaskier as a human, not a monster

after that, they get closer and more intimate, and jaskier tells geralt about his trials and what the manticore school had done to him

geralt’s heart aches for this kind man who’s been through so much, who’s suffered so much, and yet, he’s still so gentle and caring

he asks how julian how he’s escaped the manticore school and regained his memories, and jaskier panics

‘... um...’ he stutters. ‘... magic?’

and geralt gets slightly suspicious because julian is hiding something, and he tries not to think about the fact that julian has the same tell that jaskier did when he was lying

geralt knows that julian physically can’t lie, but clearly, he’s hiding the truth, but julian keeps avoiding the question whenever geralt asks, making him more suspicious, but he decides that julian can have this secret

after all, it’s not harming geralt or anything, and he trusts julian

then geralt fully recovers, and he’s reluctant to leave julian, so he shyly asks julian to join him on the path so they can go witchering together

of course jaskier agrees, beyond joyful that geralt wants his company, even now, and before they leave, jaskier’s sister tries to talk sense into him one more time, but jaskier is still too dumb to listen to her

as they set out on the path, jaskier realises just how much he misses singing, how much he misses playing the lute

he hasn’t sung since rescuing geralt, since he doesn’t want geralt to recognise his voice, and he hasn’t played his lute since it was broken by the fae after his human body died

besides, he can’t really hold a lute now - he’s too big, and it would break in his hands

as they sit together one night, geralt quietly tells julian about jaskier, his heart aching and grieving

when jaskier freezes up, geralt thinks that he’s jealous and gently teases him for that, despite the pain in his heart as he tries not to compare how similar they are 

in fact, jaskier’s just panicking a lot, and he tries to act normal

they’re both really dumb

that night, jaskier is lying awake when he suddenly hears geralt having a nightmare about losing jaskier

he’s whimpering, voice pained and fearful, ‘no, please, jaskier, please don’t go, i can’t lose you -’

and jaskier tries to soothe geralt, but it doesn’t work and geralt thrashes harder, going deeper into the nightmare

then jaskier remembers that the only way he used to be able to calm geralt down from a nightmare was to sing, and he can’t bear to thrash and scream in his sleep, filled with grief and anguish

so jaskier sings

he sings geralt’s favourite songs, the ones that always loosened geralt’s shoulders and made him smile, and as he watches geralt relax, he falls asleep as well

the next morning, geralt wakes up before jaskier, remembering his nightmare, and he knows that he heard jaskier’s voice

grief almost threatens to overwhelm him because he must have hallucinated jaskier’s voice, but then he realises that if the singing hadn’t been real, he wouldn’t have been able to return to sleep, and he would’ve woken up instead

so geralt knows that someone must have sung to him - had julian sung to him

and he twists to look at julian, who’s curled around him, and he looks closer

geralt thinks of the way julian would hold him gently, the way only jaskier had, thinks of the way julian made him smile and laugh the way jaskier did, thinks of how only julian and jaskier had ever cared for him like that

and it makes sense now, why julian had kept a secret about regaining his memories, because it must have been tied to jaskier somehow, and it makes sense why julian decided to just come and rescue him

jaskier is alive, and geralt hadn’t known

but jaskier is real, and he’s here, and though geralt is mad that jaskier hadn’t told him, his joy at jaskier being alive makes him forget his anger

when jaskier wakes up, blinking blearily at geralt with a soft, lazy smile, geralt says, ‘jaskier?’

and he prays that he’s right, because he’ll be shattered if jaskier is truly dead -

and jaskier responds, exhaustion slurring his words, ‘yes, geralt?’

then he realises what he did, and he freezes, but geralt gentle pulls him into a kiss, and jaskier relaxes

‘why did you never tell me?’ geralt asks when he pulls away, light and buoyant with love and joy

jaskier has no choice but to confess

‘i didn’t want you to remember my human self as a monster,’ jaskier murmurs, looking away. ‘i wanted to keep jaskier and julian separate, so i wouldn’t taint your memories of me.’

‘you’re not a monster,’ geralt says fiercely, tracing jaskier’s face with gentle fingers, tracing over his horns and his ears, brushing under his eyes and over his teeth. 

‘but i am,’ jaskier insists, spreading his arms. ‘look at me, geralt. how am i not a monster? why would you want to remember me, my human self, as this - this monstrous thing?’

geralt’s heart breaks for him, and he tugs jaskier into a tight embrace, peppering him with kisses.

‘you’re beautiful,’ geralt whispers, and jaskier sucks in a breath at the sincerity in his voice. ‘you’re not a monster, jaskier. and i’ll love you no matter who you are, no matter what you look like. it doesn’t matter to me.’

‘even like - like this?’ jaskier asks, vulnerable, as he gestures to his too-large body, to his mutated features.

‘especially like this,’ geralt says, and kisses him

as jaskier wraps his arms around geralt, and geralt tips his head up to meet jaskier’s lips, they feel warm, they feel loved, they feel whole

(afterwards, they travel the continent together, hunting monsters and killing the people who had experimented on jaskier, and they get a glamour for jaskier so he can be a bard again, they get married on the coast and they live happily ever after)

someone once asked how many AUs of i have often dreamed of a far off place can i write, and i think that this might be my third one... with a fourth version that i dumped into the wj server earlier today oops?

[elisaphoenix13]

This Dance Of Ours

Another Witcher fic, but I believe I got it out of my system (for now) so I can turn my focus back on my Marvel WIP's 😂. Still getting a feel for writing in this fandom so I apologize for any OOC.

Geralt woke up with a start. The feeling of wrong nagging at him as he sat up and looked around the small campsite. Roach stamped the ground in her unease and the Witcher could smell the metallic tang of human blood hanging in the air. If that wasn't alarming enough, Geralt finally realized what had been missing. A heartbeat.

A quick glance to the bedroll nearby confirmed his suspicions when he found it empty.

"Jaskier?" Geralt calls out.

It wasn't unusual for the bard to respond to the call of nature in the middle of the night, but considering Roach was uncharacteristically restless, Geralt knew something was wrong. Jaskier's lute was still strapped to Roach's saddle as well so it wasn't like the bard took off without a word. Geralt was always aware of his surroundings, even while he meditated or slept, but maybe it was because he was used to movement from Jaskier that it didn't disturb him. He got to his feet and walked over to Roach to calm her with a pet to her flank and then tried looking around the immediate vicinity. It was the night of a new moon so the forest was nearly pitch black, even for Geralt, so he had to assume that Jaskier didn't go far. If he couldn't see the campfire on a night like this, he wouldn't go any farther.

The stench of blood was also worrisome.

"I'll find him." Geralt says to his horse as he digs through the saddle bags for some potions and strips of cloth.

With another pat, Geralt grabs his swords, drinks one of his Cat potions, and follows the smell of blood as the elixir takes effect. He was better able to see when it did, so he was also able to catch more than one set of footprints just outside the radius of the campfire. He found blood as well. As he followed the tracks and the periodic drops of blood, Geralt wondered in the back of his mind how he hadn't heard Jaskier being attacked. Had he gone so long without adequate rest that he fell into a deeper sleep than he normally did?

Did Jaskier even get to call out for help?

Geralt didn't get a chance to think much more about it because the tracks led him to a cave that was poorly lit and narrow. He could hear voices from within, but as he silently walked in and made his way through the passage, he had yet to hear Jaskier. He was hoping it was either because the bard had somehow gotten away or he was here and unconscious.

Unfortunately, neither ended up being true when the passage opened up into a large chamber and Geralt carefully peeked around the corner to assess the situation. Normally, he would have strode in with his usual confidence but if Jaskier was there, whoever took him might use the bard as a human shield. His quick glance revealed that Jaskier was in the cavern, and that the guilty party for his kidnapping were bandits...the smell of blood was stronger than ever as well.

"You said he would come!" One of the bandits snarls.

"He will." Another bites back.

"Not before he bleeds out!" The first says while motioning to Jaskier's unmoving body.

Geralt decided it was best to step into the cavern if Jaskier's life was in jeopardy, and did so while drawing his sword. "You have something of mine."

He had counted five bandits while he listened to them argue amongst themselves, and they all turned to face him. Before anyone could utter another word, the Witcher scrunches his nose in disgust when the smell of urine overpowers the smell of Jaskier's blood. He looks at the bandit on the far right and regards him with a raised eyebrow when he finds the very obvious wet patch in his breeches. Bandits were notorious for being courageous in a foolhardy way, but this one clearly missed the memo.

"Don't worry. You'll be free of your embarrassment soon enough." Geralt growls out.

The Cat potion tended to make him look a little feral so Geralt wasn't too surprised. A lot of people would run screaming if they saw him like this. All but the bard that is.

"Give us everything of value you own and we'll let the bard go." The leader bargains and Geralt glares at him.

"I don't make deals with bandits."

"Then we'll take it off your corpse!"

Geralt dodged the arrow shot at him and focused on getting closer to Jaskier. The bard wasn't in shackles, or even in a cage, but he was alarmingly pale and barely conscious. It was no wonder they didn't bother. Jaskier was in no condition to move, let alone run, and there was a small puddle of blood beneath his leg where he was no doubt shot with an arrow. The situation only served to further anger Geralt and he used his Aard sign to send a blast at the group of bandits once he circled them out of Jaskier's range. He dealt with each bandit that got up and ran at him in preparation of their own attack but didn't get a chance to land and they were all dead within moments.

It was pathetic.

"...alt…"

Geralt sheaths his sword and looks back at Jaskier before rushing to his side and dropping to his knees beside him. He carefully lifts the bard's face to look at his eyes and ignores Jaskier reaching out to grab the front of Geralt's tunic. He hadn't even bothered putting his armor on in his haste to find Jaskier. Just some bandages that he started to wrap around the bard's wound. Fortunately it looked like the arrow missed anything fatal and would heal once Geralt got the bleeding to stop and Jaskier got some rest.

"Jaskier, what happened?"

"Got shot in the leg with a fucking arrow. That's what happened." Jaskier mumbles and looks up into Geralt's eyes as the Witcher binds his leg. "You look feral...like it…" he continues to mumble. "Makes me feel safe--OW!"

Geralt ties off the bandage. "It doesn't look like you're going into shock like I originally thought."

"No. Just hurts." He answers and groans when Geralt pulls him to his feet and wraps one of his arms around him. "As much as I enjoy our little excursions, being shot and then asked questions later isn't ideal. I told them they were wasting their time because you wouldn't come for little old me…"

Geralt let Jaskier ramble despite the fact that he was wrong. While the bard was always talking, somehow he knew this time it was to distract Jaskier from the pain. He figured he didn't need to deny Jaskier's assumption anyway since Geralt clearly did come to his aid, and instead led the way back to camp. With the bard's injury, they would have to find somewhere with a proper bed to stay so Jaskier could rest and recuperate, but the nearest town was a day's ride.

"Sorry."

Jaskier's sudden apology nearly made Geralt stumble in surprise, but he managed to keep his feet and finish the walk to the campsite. He silently helps Jaskier sit down against a tree before moving about to pack up their bedrolls and stash them in Roach's saddle bags, who look more relaxed now that Jaskier was safe.

"What are you doing?" The bard asks. "Going after the basilisk? I'll be alright here-"

"Jaskier." Geralt sighs heavily and the bard falls quiet as he walks over to help him back to his feet and over to Roach. "Come on."

"What? You mean on Roach? Oh, okay!" Jaskier yelps when Geralt helps him mount the horse. He looked even more surprised when Geralt mounted behind him after extinguishing the campfire. "Why are you…?"

"If you pass out, it'll be easier to keep you on the horse this way." Geralt grunts out.

"That...makes sense. Now that you mention it, I am a little tired." Jaskier admits.

Geralt hums and urges Roach forward, quickly finding the road and taking it toward the next town. Jaskier continued his rambling for the next half hour before his talking turned into mumbling and he started to nod off, but instead of falling forward like Geralt expected him to, his head lulled back. Jaskier's body followed, and Geralt soon found himself with the younger man resting against him and fast asleep. He did have to keep the bard from falling sideways at least once, and kept his arms somewhat rigid to keep Jaskier in place as he continued toward town.

Geralt wasn't uncomfortable with the situation like he thought he would be (and was prepared to be), but he was definitely concerned. He found himself looking down at Jaskier's leg more often than not to check the bleeding, but even if that had been easy in the beginning, it proved almost impossible once the effects of his elixir finally wore off. Even with his enhanced vision, there was only so much he could see on a night like this.

Makes me feel safe.

Jaskier's earlier words suddenly came to mind and Geralt's first thought was that the bard was insane. He had seen his reflection before after taking that specific potion and he knew it was a terrifying sight, but Jaskier...saw things in a different light. While most ran from him in fear, Jaskier ran toward him. Without fear and for protection and safety...and Geralt provided that. He couldn't help it after the younger man stepped right into his personal space, made himself comfortable, and wormed his way into Geralt's heart. Now he couldn't imagine life without Jaskier in it. Which was why he was insistent on finding even the smallest hamlet with a tavern or an inn.

As if destiny heard his wish, Geralt came upon a small town an hour later...if it could even be called a town. But it had a tavern and he rode up to it without hesitation and dismounted carefully so he wouldn't knock Jaskier off before he was ready. Geralt made sure he wasn't in danger of falling off the saddle while he went inside to ask for a room, and pet Roach.

"Steady. Don't let him fall." He tells her before heading inside and over to the barkeeper. "I need a room. Is there a healer here?"

"One is supposed to pass through in the morning." The barkeeper says as he hands Geralt the key after the Witcher pays.

Geralt nods and goes back outside, fortunately finding Jaskier as he left him, and carefully pulls him down. Since the bard was in no position to pull his weight, Geralt hefted him into his arms and carried him inside and up into the room, ignoring the curious glances directed at him. It was probably quite the sight to see a Witcher carry someone, whether they were injured or not, and Geralt wouldn't be surprised if it caused suspicion. Hopefully nothing would come of it, and they would be undisturbed.

He changed Jaskier's bandages once he laid him on one side of the bed, and when he was finished and washed his hands clean of blood, he looked at the other side of the bed. His attempt at proper sleep was disturbed and he was starting to get desperate for a good night's sleep before there was another djinn incident. When he thought about how Jaskier might react if he woke up to see Geralt sharing the bed with him, he sighed because he knew the younger man wouldn't mind. In fact, he would praise the decision and say something along the lines of "See? There's nothing wrong with the occasional indulgence of comfort."

That had been what drove Geralt to kick off his boots and collapse heavily onto the other side of the bed with a sigh. Jaskier had already seen the best and the worst of him so this was nothing in comparison. He'd be more careful about staying aware of Jaskier's condition though. He wouldn't let anything happen to him while he had anything to do about it.

~~~~

Jaskier woke to the feeling of his trousers being removed and rather than panic immediately, he first looked to see who the culprit was. He definitely wasn't expecting it to be Geralt though.

"As flattered as I am, could you hold off until I'm in considerably less pain before you try...what was it you said? Hide your sausage in my pantry?" Jaskier says and Geralt looks at him for a long moment before smacking the bard's uninjured leg.

"I need to clean your wound. Shut up and behave." Geralt growls.

Well that certainly wasn't the response Jaskier was expecting. He thought Geralt would glare at him and toss him off the bed for being a pest. But since he had reacted like this, it made Jaskier very curious about what was going on in the older man's head.

"Ow. Way to hit a man while he's down." Jaskier complains.

"How's the pain?"

"Not as bad I suppose. It just throbs." Jaskier sits up and watches Geralt wrap his leg in fresh bandages. "Geralt? Have you slept?"

"Yes. Now lay back down." He replies and pushes Jaskier down. "The healer said you need to rest and drink that." He points at the cup sitting on the table by Jaskier. "It should help with the pain and stave off infection."

Jaskier sits up again just enough to grab the cup and swallow the contents before coughing at the bitter and foul taste. "Oh gods, it's like drinking the guts of a rancid fish."

"It is rancid fish."

"Wh-What?!" Jaskier gawks at Geralt and he huffs when he finds amusement in his eyes. "Oh yes, very funny, pick on the bedridden bard. See if I help you next time you get hurt!"

"Rest. I'll bring food."

"Bread, cheese, grapes, and ale?" Jaskier asks hopefully.

"Stew and apple juice."

"Really Geralt. I'm not a child." Jaskier bemoans as he lays down and stares at the ceiling. "At least make it grape juice."

"You'll get whatever I bring you." Geralt grunts.

Geralt throws a blanket over Jaskier before he stands up and leaves the room. The fact that the older man was showing such gentleness was a surprise to Jaskier. Not just with the blanket, but how he had tended to his wounds. He was so gentle that the younger man was just now processing that his hands had been big and warm...and that Geralt had applied a soothing salve. It only made Jaskier wonder if maybe the Witcher would always be that gentle with him. No matter the reason for the touch. Especially with the jest he made earlier.

And then there was what Geralt had said last night. You have something of mine.

No matter how much Jaskier told himself not to look too much into it, he couldn't help the giddy feeling welling up in his chest. He prided himself in being one of the very few people that knew Geralt well, and he knew the older man wouldn't say something like that just because. In fact, he would go out of his way to deny any sort of friendship with Jaskier. But what he said? It was intimate.

When Geralt returned with their food, he held out the tankard. "Don't say I never do anything for you."

"I would never."

Jaskier took a swig of his juice, fully expecting apple, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it was grape.

He's a big softie.

[remember-to-be-gentle]

what about reader summoning a demon in desperation after losing their job but they summon the wrong one? (Enji? Madara? Dabi? Miruko? Up to u it could be any1)

I made a header for this fic because it kept getting buried in my drafts also this fic is for you demon tail fuckers.

Subject: BNHA, Demon!Dabi aka Touya Todoroki

Title: How Much Does a Pound of Flesh Cost? (NSFW, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Murder, demon summoning, workplace harassment, non con, cannibalism, loss of virginity/bad women’s anatomy, tail penetration, blood, crying, reader is in pain multiple times

You couldn’t take it anymore. The harassment, the taunting, the rumors. HR didn’t help and God knew if your lazy as hell boss was going to so much as glance in the direction of your problems. So you’d had to turn to other means. 

It was a last resort, you’d told yourself that over and over again, only to be used if there was no other option. You couldn’t leave the job, it paid too well and no where would hire someone who quit after just three months on the job. Wiping tears out of your eyes, you drew the last parts of the upside pentagram on your hardwood floors, the chalk coming off in puffy chunks. 

The upside down pentagram was ugly, no lines straight or even, but it should work, after all, summoning a demon didn’t require artistic talent, just desire. You grabbed the demon summoning book you’d gotten off Amazon and flipped to the page you’d bookmarked with sticky tabs and dried tears. In broken Latin and probably the worst accent ever, you read the words you’d only spoken in your fantasies and closed your eyes. 

There was power in them, you could tell, though you weren’t sure exactly how much power would come from them. And just as quickly as the power had built, it crashed. Terrified your eyes shot open, fear gripping your heart. Had you failed? Did you really fail in your final attempt to save yourself?

And then you saw it.

Him.

The demon in the circle. 

He smirked at you from where he laid in the chalk, hair so dark red it was black, eyes blue as the hottest part of the flame, skin either charred in patches or pale and smooth, staples keeping it all together. Two bull-like horns grew from his head and a long devil’s tail whipped about behind him. “Hey, doll,” he said, “what can I do you for?”

You’d prepared yourself for this. Demons were tricky with their words and quick to act, it was best to find out what they wanted before you told them why they were summoned. “Tell me what I have to pay first.”

“Doll,” he groaned, his body rising like a rag doll. His head flopped forward, those burning blue eyes zeroing in on you, “I can’t bill you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

Shit, maybe you didn’t have the edge you thought you did. You swallowed and said, “I want... I want to make my coworkers suffer like they made me suffer. I want them to hurt—on the inside! I don’t want to see them bleed out or anything...” 

The demon made a rumbling noise, your apartment shaking with him, picture frames rattling and furniture shaking. “You wish for them experience the same pain you did, pain that’s on the inside...” He drifted closer to you, an electric aura of malice surrounding him, “And you don’t want to see them bleed. Tricky, tricky.” His tail whipped again. “I think I would like my price to be...” He stopped right in front of you and smiled wide, showing off sharp canines built for tearing flesh, “My price will be your mucous.” 

You blinked. “My mucous?”

He whipped his tail again, the tip of it suddenly right at your nose. “If you agree to the terms then eat of my flesh and your will shall become mine.” 

“Wait,” your mind was steal reeling from his price and now he wanted you bite his tail off? The book hadn’t said anything about this. 

“Every second you hesitate,” the demon growled, “is another second of your torment. Eat and be fulfilled.” 

“Fine, okay.” He really wasn’t giving you time to think about this. You opened your mouth and he thrust in his tail, hard, the tip making it halfway down your throat, choking you for as heat crowded your face. For several swollen seconds you stayed there choking on his tail before instinct had you slamming your teeth down. 

The tail snapped apart easily, the taste of pig skin a ghost on your tongue as the tail dropped down your esophagus and into your stomach. The weight of your deal hung heavily in your belly. 

Heat erupted from your stomach, the taste of smoke overpowering your senses, burning your nose until you collapsed on the floor gasping for breath. Tears spilled over down your cheeks, carrying with it the sensation of burning, as if you’d been consumed in hellfire. The weight of the demon’s tail vanished. 

When you finally caught your breath, you saw the demon was gone, leaving no trace behind except for the chalk circle that had been reshaped to read D̦̠̝̻̱̦̮̲̫̅̃́͂̈́͢͝͞Ȧ̸̧̫̠̦̬̞͛̽͐͆͜͝B̵̝̼̗̠̺̳̓̈͌͊̔͊́̀͞I̵͎͔͔͍̫͛̊̏͘͜͠.

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

With no idea when the demon would come back for his payment, you were left with no choice but to go to work. Your stomach twisted in terrorized knots. You didn’t want to confront them, look them in the eye and know that their hatred wouldn’t vanish without demonic intervention, but you’d used all your sick days and your rent wouldn’t pay itself. 

The building was empty, which wasn’t unusual this early in the morning, though it concerned you the security guards weren’t in their places. You got into the elevator and took a deep breath. Alright, 

You slowly entered the office and noticed first the silence. No fingers clacking keyboards. No rising bubbles from the water cooler. No idle chatter. No one seated in their cubicle. Nothing. Not even security making their rounds. 

As you walked through the maze of cubicles, a terrible stench invaded your nostrils, making your stomach twist. It was coming from the board room. You slowly made your way over, bile lapping at the back of your throat with each step closer, nausea swelling in your skull until you were dizzy. The carpet had claw marks coming from all over the office, as if something had been dragged away. Some cubicle walls were smashed or broken. You kept walking toward the smell. 

And then you saw it. 

Inside the glass meeting room, surrounding the large wooden table, were all your coworkers. Not a single one of them so much as twitched, their skin was purple and blotchy, nearly black in some spots. Internal bleeding, you recognized immediately, they’d either been beaten so bad their organs ruptured or something inside them had been torn them apart. Either way you needed to get out of—

“Hey doll,” Dabi the demon slithered out from the shadows, his voice making the room rumble like he had in your house, “like what I’ve done with the place?”

You stared at him in horror. “You... you did this?”

“I did,” he floated toward the table, newly regrown tail whipping behind him, “and it was fun, too. Its been a while since I’ve been asked to kill without leaving a trace. You’re a surprisingly naughty girl.” 

“No! I didn’t want you to kill them! I wanted them to hurt like I did—”

“Doll.” His voice terrorized you and forced you still, a demonic force so dark and ugly that your nearly vomitted. “You asked me to hurt them like they hurt you. You understand I can’t make them feel anything that isn’t...” He ran a blue fingernail over one of your coworkers darkened faces, “physical.” He wrapped his tail around their throat, shaking their head back and forth. “So I did what you asked, I made them hurt without letting them bleed out. All the bleeding is internal, where it’s supposed to be, and just like you requested.”

“No, no, you should have said something if that was the case! I didn’t want anyone to die!” 

“But then you wouldn’t have taken my deal,” he pouted, releasing your coworker to approach you, still floating, “and then I wouldn’t have gotten paid. Besides, didn’t they hurt you so badly you wanted to die? You summoned a demon to hurt them after all, and even agreed to pay my price.” 

His payment that’s right it was... mucous. “Why do you want mucous, anyway?”

He ran a hand down your nose and then hooked his finger into your nostril, forcing you to look up at him. Sharp pain erupted in your skin but the deadly look in his eye made you keep quiet. “Did you think this is what I wanted? Oh no, you poor silly, little thing. I don’t know a soul would have use for your disgusting boogers.” His tail whipped forward and slid into your pants, ungraciously rubbing against your slit, “This is the mucous I want. Your hymen.”

You tried to step away but Dabi hooked his fingers deeper, pulling up and making you scream from the pain. "You tricked me! I didn't agree to this!"

Dabi chuckled darkly. "Next time ask clarifying questions, babe." He sharply removed his fingers, letting you fall on the floor. He didn't let you catch your breath, grabbing you by the back of your shirt and throwing you on the table.

Your head hit the solid wood first, hard, marking your teeth rattle and skull bounce, the rest of your body forcing you to slide to the end of the table. A groan escaped your throat and when you tried to sit up, your face was just inches from your dead boss's. You shrieked and tried to scramble away, but Dabi pinned you down, one hand on your back, the other yanking your pants off. “Stop!” You screamed, “This isn’t what I wanted!” 

You felt his tail circle your entrance, the tapered point pressing into your clit until you squirmed. It pulled your panties aside and felt the slick that had gathered, far too much for just rubbing your slit. It must have been some kind of demon magic that got him what he wanted faster. “This isn’t about what you want anymore,” he sneered in your ear, “your request is fulfilled, now pay up.” His tail slid inside you, suddenly much larger than you remembered seeing or swallowing, stretching out your insides as the tapered point met your cervix. 

But it kept growing.  

The tail’s girth continued to swell inside you, breaking your tight rings of untouched muscle as your core clenched around it. No matter how much you wanted to hate it, it felt good all the way inside you, reaching parts of you that had remained clean until now, and then the pain kicked in again. 

The discomfort before had been an uncomfortable adjustment, slightly itchy if anything, but now it was searing, your insides feeling like they’d been torn apart and gutted. You shrieked, nails digging into the wood of the table. You swung your hips back and forth as if that would make him remove his tail but it only made the tip press harder against your cervix.

Dabi shoved your hips back down against the table. “Relax, I’m almost done.” 

Each swell of his tail was excruciating, tears welling up in your eyes from the pain. 

It seemed to reach a maximum painful girth, stuck inside you as your insides twisted. And faster than it had grown, his tail shrunk back down to normal and slid out of you. You could feel blood following after, dripping out of your entrance and onto the board meeting table.  

Dabi started to lift himself up and you thought he was done, contract complete, but you heard him unzip his pants and before you could process exactly what was coming next, something new pressed inside you. It didn’t hurt as much as the tail, but it was much hotter, pushing all the way inside you until something warm and squishy pressed against your clit. Your sore insides itched and clung at the object, making you whimper. “This,” Dabi groaned, “is your tip.” 

He pulled back and slammed back in, your torn core making you see stars from the sharp pain. His dick. He’d put this demon fucking dick inside you. You screamed and tried to thrash, but Dabi was so much bigger than you. So much stronger. All you really ended up doing was humping his cock and crying.

He simply ignored you and pumped roughly into you, his heavy balls slamming against your clit with each downstroke. You kept crying and thrashing and Dabi must have gotten annoyed with you because he growled, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. Just stay still and let me take what I want.”

You choked out a sob, failing at swallowing the tears that slid down your cheeks and onto the table. With your boss’s dead eyes staring into you, you did your best to ignore the rough thrusting of the demon you’d sold your virginity to. You’d paid for revenge and lost far more than you’d bargained for. 

[bakudeku121]

BakuDeku caught in the rain/ Stuck at a party together

The ceilings were tall. The walls, cement grey. Izuku Midoriya stepped into the school expecting fireballs, giants and typhoons. Instead, he found hall monitors, water fountains and a cafeteria that constantly smelled like old ponzu. 1A is the last classroom on the left. His seat, in front of his worst nightmare. Katsuki Bakugou sat halfway down the last row pushed up against the window. He scowled as Deku walked to his seat and took his place. Professor Aizawa barely registered your discomfort as he began roll call.

“Mina Ashido?”

“Here!”

“Izuku Midoriya?”

“Here.”

Aizawa checked off Izuku’s name before moving on, leaving Deku completely bewildered in his seat. The day rolled on. The afternoon sun set. And Izuku was left, sweating bullets as he felt Katsuki’s glare not but two feet behind him.

~~~~

A week went by and the rain came down hard. Musutafu is taken over by grey clouds and a heavy mist. Bakugou had just finished driving Kaminari back to his apartment complex. The roads were plagued by red lights as he cruised through the city. Pellets of rain hit his windshield, sounding off like bullets in the afternoon. Suddenly, out of his side view mirror, he paused. Izuku Midoriya was walking alone on the sidewalk. He shuffled awkwardly, holding a drenched hoodie over his head. The rain had all but soaked through his jacket and shirt. Bakugou glanced back at his own back seat, where a pair of gym clothes sat, high and dry. Sighing to himself, Bakugou pulled over.

“Hey, Deku!”

The green haired boy stopped in his place. Not only was he surprised to see Bakugou, he was surprised to see him pulled over in his own car, waiting with the passenger door wide open.

“Come on, it’s a long way home.”

Deku looked back at the street. Not only was it unusual for Bakugou to do a favor, it was highly unusual for him to do a favor for him, his least favorite classmate. Reluctantly, Deku looked back out at the sky. All it took was one clap of thunder for him to make up his mind.

“Thanks.” Deku mutters.

“Hold on, hold on.” scolded Bakugou, “Don’t get the seat all fucked up. Here-”

He passed the boy his gym clothes.

“Something dry.”

Deku looked at the clothes, skeptical at first.

“A-are you sure, Kacchan?”

Bakugou glared at him, as if he regretted that he even asked.

Deku took the clothes gratefully and pulled his own shirt over his head. For just a moment, Bakugou paused. The rain glazed over Midoriya’s pale skin, painting his gym shorts onto his thin hips. Katsuki averted his gaze to the rolling side streets as Misoriya peeled off the rest and changed into Katsuki’s gym shorts. Midoriya piled his things into his backpack and replied with a hushed, “Thank you.”

Bakugou pulled over at a shabby apartment complex and threw the car into park.

“Whatever, nerd. Don’t forget your bag.”

Deku grabbed his backpack and slipped out of the car. Bakugou couldn’t help but watch as he disappeared down the narrow side street. Visions of Midoriya’s V-line were stitched into the back of his mind. Peeling out of a three-point turn, Bakugou returned to his own apartment and hastily slipped by his parents on his way to his bedroom.

~~~~

The days passed and the weather lightened up. All-Might had shown up at UA to teach a specialty lesson in targeting an enemy’s defenses. Bakugou perked up at the sound of being able to use full force on his fellow classmates. Others trembled at the sight of his convictions. Ground Zero turned out to be a giant vacant lot full of empty buildings, steel factories and gutted mills. Bakugou delighted in his classmates' terror as All Might paired each of them against one another. Then Bakguou heard it.

“Tenya Iida and Katsuki Bakugou versus Ochako Uraraka and Izuku Midoriya.”

Not only is he stuck with that pencil pushing Iida, he was forced to face Deku again in a head to head match. The buzzer counted down as he stretched into positon. Across the way, Izuku Midoriya was stretching, too.

What is that quirkless loser up to? Thought Bakugou, He should be writing his will, not looking to start a fight.

The buzzer sounded off and Bakugou immediately took off from Iida.

“Bakugou!” threatened Iida, “The nuclear weapon needs to be defended from two angles!”

Ignoring his teammates' warnings, Bakugou took off for the bowels of the abandoned factory.

“Do what you want, nerd!” he scolds, “I’m no coward, villain or not!”

Bakugou powered up and headed off, shooting flames from both arms as he traversed forward. From half a mile down the hall, Izuku can hear his enemy heading towards him.

“Uraraka!” he called out, “Can you handle Iida?”

His teammate nodded, leaving Deku alone in the towering hallway. The shadows were long and grim. The echoes, thunderous and threatening. Deku stood alone, watching the flames flick against the aluminum vents. Suddenly, an explosion blew down an entire empty vat. In the gaping wall, stood Katsuki Bakugou.

“Kacchan!” remarked Deku, noting his enemy’s reluctance to keep the building together.

“There you are!” cried Bakugou, “You damn nerd!”

Bakugou aimed one fist at Deku before Deku used his calves to launch off the wall. Bakugou aimed behind him just as Deku leapt backwards. Blow after blow, they exchanged attacks, until half of the building was left charred and dented.

“Stop running away!” scolded Bakugou, “Coward!”

Deku paused to study his opponent’s attacks. Watching Bakugou’s arm movements, he carefully calculated the arc of his enemy’s next blast. Deku jumped back and used the wall to reflect the explosion. Boom! The ash and smoke flew into Bakugou’s face. Now, even angrier than before, Bakugou leaped towards Deku’s last position. He can’t help but notice the smaller boy’s flexing arms, the bead of sweat that dripped down his temple, and his hair dampening on his side. The blood pumped through his veins quickly pumped into his cock as he felt a twitch below the belt.

“Damn you, Deku!”

Bakugou turned to watch Deku studying his moves. He couldn’t dodge if he didn’t have time to study. So, Bakugou pinned Deku down by the elbows, his knees resting on his forearms. Deku yelped as Bakugou landed on his chest. Suddenly, both boys stopped. Bakugou’s hard cock protruded from his UA uniform, pressing firmly against Deku’s abs. The smaller boy’s face went red, unable to move against his opponent’s strong grip. Embarrassed, Bakugou pulled back, just long enough for Deku to collect himself. The boys looked at one another for just a moment, before the rabbit-themed hero bounded down the hallway towards his fellow classmate. Bakugou let out an exhausted breath. He listened to his opponent’s echo bound down the hallway.

“Fuck.” he muttered.

Maybe, he thought to himself, Maybe, he hadn’t noticed.

~~~

The autumn air was cold but crisp. Bakugou was utterly embarrassed by his performance last week. Having lost not just to his former childhood friend Deku, but one of his biggest rival. Bakugou breathed angrily in the chilly air. It came out as hot huffs as he placed his backpack by the track and got ready to stretch. The dew coated the unmowed grass. Loose pebbles kicked up as he jogged in place.

“Alright.” he muttered to himself.

He was already ready to forget about last week’s incident.

Suddenly, across the track, he spotted a familiar swathe of dark green hair. That damn nerd Izuku Midoirya was finishing a lap around the bright red lane. Katsuki cursed to himself as he watched the other boy’s thighs flex with every step. Spotting Katsuki across the track, Izuku said nothing. He passed him without so much as a glance. Whether it was obvious he was thinking of the Ground Zero incident or not, Bakugou couldn’t tell. Regardless, he wasn’t about to forfeit this valuable training time because of some goddamn twink. 

Stretching out his quads, Bakugou got into position. He knelt down and grazed the astroturf with his fingertips, before taking off into the mist. The cold hair raised the hair on his forearms. 

Bakugou heaved and huffed as he finished his two mile lap. Izuku was still ahead of him, jogging at a leisurely pace, seemingly paying no attention to the boy. 

Bakugou despised it. Why hadn’t he even shown so much as a combative attitude? After all, the other boy had practically sexually assaulted him in front of his other class. 

Instead, Deku paused to tie his shoes. Bakugou averted his eyes as the other boy bent over on the side of the track. Still, Kacchan couldn’t help but notice the other boy’s toned calves, the way his hair fell over his brows as he bent over, how unsuspecting he seemed to be, just waiting for him to come up behind him. Bakugou shook off his predatory instincts and finished his lap. This was no time to be staring up rivals at the track.

The clouds began to part and the morning sun began to burn through the overcast. Deku traded his track sneakers for a pair of his uniform shoes and headed towards main campus. Bakugou paused at the eight hundred meter mark and watched him leave.

Fuck. He thought to himself. He had a huge problem.

~~~~

The weather turned half way through the week. Bakugou arrived at the track on Wednesday ready to sweat when he spotted his childhood “friend” across the way. His green hair was fluffy and curled. His skin was pale and spotless, save that unsuspecting patch of freckles that glazed his puffy white cheeks. Bakugou swallowed a thick lump of nervous spit as he watched the boy stretch towards the side of the field. Astroturf stuck to the sides of his thighs as morning breeze blew his curls to the side of his face.

Stupid, Deku. Grunted Bakugou. Coming out at the exact time to train as I do, wearing gym shorts and a cheap grey t-shirt.

The shirt hugged the smaller boy’s thin limbs. Bakugou bit his tongue at how easy it would be to overpower him. Suddenly, Deku noticed Bakugou staring from afar. He jogged up towards him and the two trained side by side, if even for a moment.

“Hey.” called Deku.

Bakugou ignored him.

The two jogged side by side for an entire lap. Bakugou pretended to be focused on the track, watching the loose red pebbles kick up around their cleats. Deku rolled his eyes. Just over a week ago, the other boy had pinned him down, a pulsing boner pressed up against his chest. Izuku pulled up ahead of Bakugou and flashed an innocent smile.

“Just so you know, I’m gay, by the way.”

Bakugou’s face went bright red. He was inflamed by the mere accusation that he could even potentially be interested in the green haired boy. Eyes flaming scarlet, he growled, “Cool. I’m straight, so you can get out of my way now.” 

Deku shrugged, “Alright, alright.”

He pulled off of the track and rested by the fence.

“I’ll see you at school.”

Deku picked up his bag and his water bottle, then turned back towards the classrooms. Bakugou refused to look up from the track as the other boy walked away.

His words echoed in the back of his mind.

Just so you know, I’m gay, by the way.

What was that supposed to mean? Bakugou wondered to himself, Even if he did swing that way, he could do a lot better than small, weak little Izuku Midoriya.

Bakugou kept his head down for the rest of his jog, cheeks inflamed by the green haired boy’s accusation.

~~~~

Autumn had turned into a cool early winter chill. The grass was coated in a light layer of frost. The last weeks of being able to run at the track were upon him. Bakugou rose and laced up his sneakers as usual, when he spotted an unwelcome spot of green hair already bounding down the track. Bakugou grumbled to himself as he parked in the student parking lot.

Izuku Midoriya was already half a mile into his morning jog. If he had noticed the blonde haired boy’s presence, he ignored it, happily bounding to the beats in his headphones as he swept up rubber pebbles. Bakugou pulled up his ankles to stretch his calves. He glared at Midoriya across the lanes, watching the way he leapt as he ran. 

For a while, the two boys ignored each other, until Izuku paused by the track’s exit. He stood there, adjusting his headphones while the other boy finished his last lap.

Fuck. Thought Katsuki, What does he want now?

Katsuki couldn’t help eyeing him up as he stood there. His babyhairs held damp to the sides of his face. His cheeks were flushed from that morning’s run. He couldn’t help but picture him bent over that fence, hair pulled back as he cried out Kacchan’s name.

Fucking hell.

Katsuki pulled to the side one hundred meters early. He paced by the fence, as if there was an invisible barrier Midoriya couldn’t cross. Deku slipped down to the edge of the fence to drink from his water bottle. Kacchan watched as his adam’s apple bobbed, finishing off the bottle’s contents. The cool drips drizzled down his hand and onto his light grey T-shirt. Bakugou rested against the fence to breathe. Concerned, Deku approached his former childhood friend.

“Hey, Kacchan, everything okay?”

Bakugou eyed the exit and then Deku. His wide nose gave way to a spread of light brown freckles. He couldn’t bare how deep and concerned his eyes were. He just wanted to pinch those baby cheeks together and stuff his cock down his throat.

Izuku paused at the edge of the track and set down his bag.

“Yeah,” replied Kacchan, “I’m fine. Get going-”

“Okay, well it just looked like you ran out of breath or…”

The two boys paused. Deku didn’t understand why someone so intimidating was suddenly all choked up. Kacchan took one look at the boy and grabbed him by the T-shirt. Pulling in Izuku close he opened his lips with his own and licked the inside of the other boy’s mouth. Izuku froze up as his childhood bully held him close. He whimpered as Bakugou sucked on his lip, before he pulled back with a wet pop. 

With a quick breath, Bakugou came to his senses. He dropped the other boy’s collar and wiped his mouth. Then, he picked up his gym bag and headed to the exit. Deku was left panting, confused, and with a dribble of spit dripping down his lip. He wiped his mouth on his forearm as he watched Bakugou walk away.

“What the hell was that?” Deku muttered to himself.

Bakugou slammed the door to his car and rested his head against the steering wheel. A fine mist of early morning rain began to fall. Grey droplets collected on the windshield, creating a mosaic of watery mazes.

Bakugou glanced up and across the parking lot. He was in way too deep.

~~~

Bakugou treaded down the empty hallway. Usually, he was always early to class. Not to do homework or anything, but to avoid the early morning rush of gossipers and other nerds. He wandered in front of 1A’s doors, uneager to face that day’s challenges. Or even worse, to face Midoriya after a second round of sexually assaulting him on school property. He took a deep breath and swung open the doors to see Midoriya on the other side of the room, chatting with Tenya Iida. Quickly, Bakugou escaped to his seat, and pulled out a textbook to distract himself.

“What time, Mina?” asked Sero.

“Ten, my parents won’t be home all weekend.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. Mina Ashido was having a kick back at her place while her parents were away. Katsuki could not be less interested until he heard Uraraka pester that green haired dweeb, Deku.

“Are you going, Deku?” she chimed, “Word is there’s going to be margaritas.”

Midoriya rubbed the back of his head.

“I uh- I don’t know.”

He glanced across the classroom, trying to read Bakugou for an answer.

Shit. Thought Bakugou, Is he looking at me?

Deku sighed to himself. He had been out for two years and the only luck he had was a childhood bully too conflicted to even do anything besides press his hard dick against him when nobody was looking.

“Yeah.” he shrugged, “Could be fun.”

He pictured sipping down Margaritas surrounded by straight people, talking shit about who knows what or knows who. At least it would be better than jacking off at home.

Mina’s party turned out to be a shabby ranch style house on the end of a quiet cul de sac. Cheap streamers decorated a butler’s kitchen that was squeezed between a small L couch and a T shaped hallway. Momo and Jiro started up the karaoke machine as Kaminari and Kirishima chugged a keg in the corner. Bakugou slumped in the back of the room, passing red solo cups to Denki and Eijiro. Deku entered the room followed by Iida and Uraraka. The latter paid no attention as the two caught eyes across the room. Bakugou pretended to stare at the ceiling before the feeling was too drawn out. Deku glanced down at the ground. Why was he making this so hard?

Suddenly, Mina clapped her hands.

“Hey! We’re gonna play hide and seek! Everyone get together!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes as Tamaki, Tsu and Koji Koda began to line up.

“Last one to touch their nose is it!”

The entire group hit the floor and touched their noses. Bakugou found himself following Kirishima’s lead as he and Kaminari did the same. Everyone but Mashirao touched their noses. The monkey-tailed boy tilted his head back and groaned. As he kneeled down to count to thirty, the others took off in every direction. Bakugou huffed as he made his way to the backyard, not to be mistaken with actually participating, he aimed to simply get away from the rushing crowd. As he tucked into a side alley by the house, he realized he was not alone.

Behind a tool shelf, he recognized the lean frame of his green-haired classmate. Izuku turned on a dime to see the seething mass of muscle and sweat.

“Oh!” he replied, “Kacchan-”

“Come on-”

A pair of voices alerted the two to company. Suddenly Kacchan pressed up against the wall, cornering Midoriya. Momo and Mina scurried across the lawn to a small pool house, slamming a screen door shut. The flood light illuminated the yard in a harsh white light. Izuku held his breath as he felt the taller boy pressing into him. His hot skin was sticky with sweat. His breath was hushed as he breathed down his neck. Izuku couldn’t help the rush of blood to his face as Bakugou’s chest pushed against his.

The light went out and suddenly it was just Bakugou and Midoriya standing in the dark. Bakugou stared down at Midoriya and his pale, petite frame. He was just so touchable. So easy to pick up, so easy to pin down. Midoriya looked up and noticed the blonde staring down at him. Suddenly Bakugou was prying his lips open with his own. Midoriya could barely get a word out before he could taste the other boy’s tongue. The taller boy pressed his hips into Deku’s, grinding his cock against his thigh.

Bakugou twisted Midoriya around and pinned him against the wall. Yanking down his pants, he spat into his hand and started to finger him open. Izuku gasped at the roughness of it all. Bakugou had barely spent a minute working him open when he pushed his dick against Deku’s ass. It was hot and sharp. Deku gritted his teeth together as Bakugou’s cock pressed into him, prying open inch by inch.

The grit of the stucco siding imprinted itself into Deku’s palm as Bekugou fucked him against the wall. With one harsh motion, Bakugou grabbed Deku by the hair and tilted his head up. His cock thickened as he rammed in and out of Deku’s ass. The taller boy could feel the heat building up in his gut as he thrusted in and out. The flood light came on again and just before another classmate could step onto the grass, Bakugou came ropes of hot cum all over Deku’s insides. Deku’s face flushed as he felt Kacchan empty inside him. The sticky liquid ran down his thigh, leaving a trail of cum down his inner leg.

Deku watched nervously as Bakugou fixed his pants. He couldn’t turn his eyes away from his V line, dipping down into the empty space between his belt buckle and his hips. 

“Don’t follow me.” Bakugou instructed.

Deku blinked in response. The blonde turned back towards the living room, leaving Deku to fix himself in the alley. Swallowing hard, he turns to find some paper towel to wipe up Bakugou’s cum.

A loose shingle suddenly dropped down from over the roof, narrowly missing Midoriya. A small giggle escaped from over the roof. Someone was slipping back over the roof to the otherside.

Oh no. Thought Izuku. Someone had been hiding up on the roof.

He turned to see who it was, but it was too late. He and Kacchan’s secret makeout sessions were not so secret anymore.

~~~~

1A was particularly rowdy the following morning. Still buzzing with all the drama of Mina’s party, the students spread around the classroom, exchanging fuzzy stories about what exactly went down. Bakugou glowered from his seat towards the windows. He didn’t want any part of the hum drum drama of his peers. Still, he couldn’t escape the bubble of constant chatter that burst out around him.

“I heard one of Momo’s tits popped out.” stated Mineta.

Bakugou rolled his eyes.

The door opened and he couldn’t help but flit his gaze towards it. Midoriya walked in with puffy morning eyes, groggily making his way to his seat. Bakugou said nothing as the boy sat directly in front of him, kicking his bag beneath his desk.

“Left tit or right tit?” bothered Kaminari.

“Left tit.” assured Mineta.

“Shut up, Mineta!” barked Bakugou.

The grape hero usually would have cowered, but a hot tip from last night’s party had changed his attitude slightly.

“Come on, Bakugou-” he retorted, “We’re just having fun.”

“Say one more word about some tits you didn’t see, and I’ll wreck you.”

“What? Like you wrecked Midoriya?”

Bakugou snapped his pencil clean in two. Deku’s face lit up bright red as he said it.

“Ah!” replied Mineta, “I mean, like at Ground Zero. From training-”

It was too late. The damage had been done. Bakugou’s eyes flashed scarlet as he stared down Mineta. If it weren’t for Aizawa walking through the door, he would've blasted the purple nuisance clean through the wall.

For a moment, Bakugou swore he could hear Todoroki laugh from across the classroom. He kept his head down and tried not to snap another pencil as Aizawa rolled in an overhead projector.

The lights flicked off and Midoriya knew he was in deep shit. He wondered to himself if he should look back at Bakugou. Saying something would be too much. It would just give the other kids confirmation that something had happened. But maybe just a glance?

Midoriya looked over his shoulder to see Bakugou completely ignoring him. He didn’t so much as glance back as the overhead flickered over their heads. Deku looked forward feeling slightly disappointed. If things had been weird before, they were about to get stone cold sterile.

~~~

The next morning, Izuku got up and fixed his sneakers. He refilled his water bottle, untangled his headphones and headed out for the track, hoping to see Bakugou. 

Cold winter air bit at his nose as he rounded the chain link fence. The red rubbery track was nearly vacant. Nearly. 

In the back corner, rounding the second turn, Midoriya spotted a head of spiky blonde hair turning his way. Midoriya began to jog in place, stretching his muscles to join his childhood friend. Instead of joining him, Bakugou took one glance at Izuku and headed for the track margins. He grabbed his water bottle, took a drink, then turned for the exit. 

Midoriya was left standing alone in the cold, utterly confused by the taller’s boys sudden disinterest.

~~~

An entire week went by and Izuku hadn’t seen so much as the back of Bakugou’s head. Every morning he showed up at the track to either find it empty of Bakugou just leaving. The sudden abandonment maybe shouldn’t have been so much of a surprise. They weren’t dating. Bakugou wasn’t even so much as a good friend before Mina’s party happened. Sighing to himself, Deku wished the training camp would be different. As he and the other students lined up for the bus, he spotted Kirishima in the back of the line. This was his chance. Skirting around the other students, Midoriya played coy if only for a moment, playing with his backpack strings as he approached Kirishima.

“Oh, Hey Deku.” announced Eijiro. 

“Hey, Kiri.”

The other students piled onto the bus. Feeling as though he was holding up time, Midoriya finally spit out, “I just wanted to ask, because I know you and Kacchan are close and all...has he said anything about me recently? Just in the past couple days?”

Kirishima’s face dropped as he realized what this was about.

“No...he hasn’t.” replied the red-headed hero, “I’m sorry about that. You know how he gets.”

“It’s cool.”

Kirishima could sense Midoriya’s disappointment. Fishing through his mind for the right thing to say, he walked the green haired onto the bus with his arm around him.

“He’ll come around. Things just..take a while to get through his head. Once he stops being so stubborn, who knows? You know?”

Midoriya sighed, albeit reluctantly.

“Right. Thanks, Kirishima.”

“Hey, Kiri!” cried Kaminari, “Check it! Window seats!”

Kirishima whooped and hollered as he sprinted towards the back of the bus. Midoriya chose a place just behind Iida and Uraraka, using the extra seat to lay out his feet. He leaned his head against the window and sighed softly to himself. From across the parking lot, he spotted Bakugou exiting his car. He rounded the sidewalk and up the bus steps to class 1A. Without so much as acknowledging him with a glance or nod, Bakugou walked straight past Midoriya and into the backseats next to Kirishima and Kaminari. Deku rested his head against his hands. Of course he should've expected radio silence. It was wishful thinking to think it would come to anything else.

~~~

Camp training was even harder than Kirishima had thought it would be. Dragging tires up and down around the grounds was doing wonders for his core but nightmares for his skin. From across the lot, he could spot Midoriya doing the same at nearly twice the speed. Despite being physically smaller, his quirk more than made up for the lack of natural power. Under the hot afternoon sun, they breaked for lunch.

The kids sat down at long rectangular picnic tables. Those lucky enough to land under an awning were just that, lucky.

Sitting on his own in the corner of the makeshift cafeteria was Midoriya. Kirishima watched him from across the way as he poked around his bento box with a vacant look on his face. Feeling slightly bad for the kid, he turned his head to see Bakugou making his way from the training grounds. The back of his shirt was stained with sweat as he took a seat along Kaminari and Kirishima. Midoriya immediately got up to head for the showers.

“Hey, Kaminari-” stated Kirishima, “Could you give me and Bakugou a second?”

Bakugou looked just as baffled as Kaminari. Reluctantly the electric boy forfeited his seat, leaving the two heroes alone.

“What was that about?” inquired Bakugou.

Kirishima took a deep breath before saying what he was about to say.

“Hey, listen.” he began, “I don’t really know what’s going on with you and Midoriya-”

Bakugou froze up.

“And quite frankly I don’t care. It’s just...he asked about you earlier and he seemed kind of mixed up about it.”

“There’s nothing going on so you can just shut up about it.”

“I get it, and I will… just. If there was anything, you know me and Kaminari wouldn’t care. Right?”

Bakugou was silent, if not for a moment. Then, he gripped his plastic fork so hard Kirishima swore it would melt in his hand.

“Well thanks, but there’s nothing going on so there’s nothing for you to not care about. Got it?”

“Geez- okay.”

Kirishima finished the rest of his bento box in relative peace. Bakugou didn’t so much as say a word for the rest of lunch. On the way back in, the cabin was dead silent. Most of the others were in line for the shower or tucked into their rooms, gossiping about each other.

Bakugou walked the halls alone with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Just as he rounded the corner, Midoriya smacked into him. He wore a white T-shirt and navy gym shorts, just about ready to head into bed. Katsuki tried not to look so surprised as the boy began to stutter.

“S-sorry Kacchan-”

He gathered his things in his hands and headed towards his dorm without so much as looking up. This was the first time in weeks Midoriya had gone without glancing across the room at him. Realizing the damage he’d done, Katsuki sighed to himself. Before Deku could get that far, Katsuki opened his door and turned to call out.

“Hey, Deku.”

The green hair boy turned around.

Bakugou said nothing as he nodded towards his empty dorm. Deku looked back at the vacant space, surprised. Putting down his things, Deku turned and shuffled into Bakugou’s dorm. It was a neat albeit empty space, nothing but a bed, a dresser and a few notebooks strewn about here and there. Bakugou tried to think of the right thing to say as Midoriya stood in front of him. Hey, I’m sorry I was ignoring you after the Mineta thing. Hey, I’m sorry I fucked you and ran. Hey, I’m sorry for leaving you alone after every chance I get. Instead, Katsuki leaned into the crook of Deku’s neck and began to kiss him down the collar. Deku’s breath hitched as he felt Katsuki’s warm tongue against his skin.

There was only enough light coming from a streetlamp outside the window to illuminate Katsuki’s outline. Hiking up the hem of his shirt, Deku could see the outline of his hip bones quite clearly. He tilted his head back and grunted as Kacchan sucked a warm wet circle just beneath his jaw. He then moved onto sucking Deku’s bottom lip. Deku whimpered against the touch as Kacchan reached down to palm the boy through his gym shorts. Deku’s dick throbbed in his hand, leaking a bead of precum through the surface of the fabric. Bakugou exhaled a hot breath down Deku’s neck, unable to contain himself.

Deku dropped to his knees to undo Kacchan’s pants. He let the buckle drop to the floor before licking Kacchan’s tip. The blonde placed his hands on the back of Deku’s head as the boy started to bob up and down, plastering his tongue to the base of his dick. A slick thread of spit dripped down from Midoriya’s lips. Kacchan used the side of his palm to wipe it along his face. He stiffened at the touch, unable to keep himself from bucking down the smaller boy’s throat.

“Mmph-nph-”

The green haired boy hummed along the base of Kacchan’s shaft. Kacchan choked at the sensation, gliding his cock out of Midoriya’s soft puffy lips.

“Get up.” Kacchan ordered.

Deku did as he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his wrist as Kacchan pressed him down over the bed. He yanked down the boy’s gym shorts and began to pump his cock against the sheets. Midoriya’s eyes rolled up as he felt Kacchan’s rough hands tugging at his dick. Sticky strings of precum stuck to his knuckles as he ran his fingers up and down Deku’s shaft. Then Deku felt Bakugou pressing his other hand against his hole. He stiffened up as Bakugou spit onto his hand to make it easier. Slowly, he opened the boy up, then pressed his dick against his entrance.

Deku gritted his teeth, waiting for the other boy to ram it into him. Instead, Kacchan took his time, pressing in slowly, revelling in every inch until he was balls deep in that little pale twink. Deku took a short, sharp breath as Kacchan held his position, pressing as deep as he could. Finally, he backed out, just to ram himself back in. Kacchan placed his hands on Deku’s hips as Deku moved to get himself off. Across the room, the closet doors held two mirror panels. In it, he could see his own face blush tinted pink as the blonde pounded into him. He watched as Bakugou’s biceps flexed with every thrust, yanking the smaller boy down onto his cock.

Deku’s face was flooded with a soft burning heat. With every pump, he threatened to ruin Kacchan’s bed by cumming in thick white streaks. Finally, Kacchan turned him around and pulled up his legs over his shoulders. Digging down deep into Deku’s abdomen, Kacchan grunted as he bottomed out. Deku gasped at the fullness as he finally came onto his own stomach. Kacchan leaned down to slurp the last bit of spit from Midoriya’s lips as he jacked himself off under his touch. The last thing Deku felt before Kacchan finished was his hot wet tongue sliding over his own, coaxing him to scream out in bliss.

The two boys came to rest side by side in Kacchan’s bed. The air was tense and silent as Bakugou grabbed a hand towel from under his bed. The boys cleaned up without saying a word. Deku figured he’d be used to that by now. He threw on his shorts and was about to pull on his shirt, when Kacchan said the first words he could think of in over a week.

“Where are you going?”

Deku looked at Kacchan and then the door.

“Oh, um. Back to my bunk?”

Kacchan blinked innocently. He pulled his boxers up his thighs and scratched the back of his neck.

“Do you think you could stay?”

Now it was Deku’s turn to be surprised. The streetlamp from across the way illuminated the room in a dim orange light. He smiled quickly before climbing back into Kacchan’s bed.

“Yeah.” he replied, “It’s cool.”

Kacchan pulled the sheet over Deku as he curled up in the crook of his arm. Deku rested his head against the pale expanse of his bicep, turning over to face the closet as they settled in to sleep. In the darkness, Deku could barely shut his eyes. There was Kacchan’s shirt on the floor. There were Kacchan’s things strewn about the desk. He had asked him to stay and really meant it. Blushing to himself, he could hardly believe it was the same Kacchan who had ignored him the entire past week.

~~~~

1A helped themselves to a speedy breakfast under the wooden awnings. Duffel bags and gym bags went sliding across the ground as students kicked their belongings back towards the bus. Midoriya had woken up early to shower and get a good seat. There was no way he was getting stuck behind Iida and his self help podcasts again. 

As he ran a towel through his wet hair, he spotted Kacchan standing over with Kirishima and Kaminari. His friends were caught up in some stupid fight about which power ranger was a Gemini. Bakugou simply rolled his eyes, leaning against a picnic table as he waited for his friends to finish. 

Deku didn’t bother saying hi. At this point, he knew it was beyond reason to expect Kacchan to acknowledge him in public. He climbed the steps of the bus and got into a seat three quarters of the way back. He kicked out his feet so nobody else would take the seat then shoved his belongings under the bench.

The others soon began to steam in. Mezo and Sero boxed in Midoriya on either side. Momo and Tsu sat up front to get a better view of the TV screen, along with Iida and Uraraka. Midoriya barely looked up when someone was picking up his feet and shoving him aside.

“Hey- I was sitting there-”

It was Kacchan, grabbing him by the heels and swinging his sneakers to the side. He didn’t say a word as he raised his headphones to his ears then settled down into the seat. For a moment, it felt like the entire bus was staring at them. Midoriya’s face went red as he lowered himself into the corner of the window.

Of all places. Midoriya thought to himself, Of all times. He chooses know to get close in public with me.

Just then, Mineta came down the aisle, heading for the back of the bus. Midoriya tensed up as he realized he was prepping some snarky comment.

“Hey, Bakugou!” cried Mineta.

The blonde looked up.

Suddenly, Kirishima’s fist bonked the grape hero on the head. Kirishima pinched the back of his neck and marched him further into the back of the bus.

Bakugou took out one ear bed and smirked.

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing.” replied Kirishima, “Oh and Midoriya.”

Deku perked up.

“Don’t let Aizawa replay Holes. If I have to watch Shiah Lebouf one more time I’m gonna lose it.”

He smiled back in gratitude.

“Yeah. no prob.”

The others filed into the back of the bus. Bakugou put his earbud back in and soon the regular amount of gossip and chatter began to flood the air. Midoriya fell back into his seat side by side with Kacchan. The blonde leaned over and let his head rest on Deku’s shoulder. The TV screens flickered on and the intro to Holes filled the screen. If he could watch it like this every time, Deku would never watch another movie in all his life.