#but with the right circumstances I think they’d be able to understand each other on a different level than they do with Simon/Min | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ilguna · 2 years ago

Text

☼ thank you (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; Johanna and you have been fighting for years, but at Finnick's wedding, she changes her mind.

warnings; swearing, death, death in detail, gore, weapons.

wc; 2.7k

–

“I see them.” Brutus whispers, coming to a stop.

You get lower to the ground, carefully creeping around him to take a look for yourself to make sure he’s right. If you end up attacking the wrong people, then you’ll get yourself killed. Despite what he likes to think, you won’t be able to take both Johanna and Finnick, not that you want to anyway.

You trust Brutus to try and keep you alive if you were in a fight. He knows that it’d be easier to win if you had one person on your side up to the end. It’ll be harder to get through five people by yourself. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it’ll surely take longer to do.

Besides, you haven’t given him a reason to let you get killed, yet.

You see who he’s been tracking this entire time. They’re at least twenty feet down the hill, and you figure out who it is pretty quickly. Katniss’ signature braid and Johanna’s spiky hair is unmistakable, even in the darkness.

Well, the good news is that they’d be easy to fuck with, if you had to. You could turn them against each other, making them split, track and then kill them. Unfortunately, that’s not what you’re here to do. It’s not them you're after, actually. It’s your ally, who’s standing behind you, completely oblivious to the plan you’ve been creating since the start of the Games.

It’s weird, it doesn’t feel right, being on the other side of things for once. It goes against everything you were taught in the Academy. The only people you’re supposed to trust are the careers, because everyone else outside of them could turn on you at any moment. While the careers hold an obligation to stay together for as long as possible to secure one of their wins.

It’s what you did in order to win. It’s what you’d do now, if that were the goal.

You willingly agreed to do this for Haymitch, though. You promised him that you could do this. You just didn’t realize how difficult it could be playing both sides. It hurt your heart to convince Cashmere and Gloss to attack the cornucopia, and it’s going to hurt more when you have to kill your mentor.

They don’t understand the importance of this. You can’t fail.

You need to find a way to cause trouble without making it obvious.

The issue is that it’s practically impossible with Katniss and Johanna. Katniss is naturally a suspicious and distrustful person. She moves quickly, especially with that bow, which means under no circumstances, can you be in view when you fuck with them. Johanna’s determined and aggressive, she won’t hesitate to kill you, either, to protect Katniss and the possibility of a successful rebellion.

This would be so much easier, if you’d just convinced Haymitch to let Johanna and Finnick in on the fact that you’re a part of the alliance. He insisted that it couldn’t happen because he couldn’t have them hesitating each time you attacked. It needed to be full movements, punches couldn’t be pulled.

“What are you thinking?” Brutus asks.

You let out a breath, watching as Katniss and Johanna disappear further down the hill. You look up the hill instead, and with the help of the moonlight shining through the trees, you find something sparkling in the light. It’s a long golden line that disappears into thin air.

You sneak out from behind the bush, heading straight for it. As you get closer, you’re able to see that it’s some type of string. When you gently run your fingers over it, you realize that it’s a wire, Beetee’s wire. The one he risked his life for during the bloodbath. You got him across the back, but it wasn’t that deep of a cut.

It’s a tight wire, and it wiggles every now and then from being jostled. That means that one end is secured, and the other is the spool. It doesn’t take a genius to know that the boys must be at the secure end, and they sent Johanna and Katniss down with the spool, but you can’t fathom why. What’s a wire going to do?

It doesn’t matter. If they’re planning a trap, they’re not going to get the satisfaction of seeing it through. You won’t be going up to the boys, because there’s no need to, if Katniss and Johanna are right here. Technically, you were told to act like you’re going after Katniss, and to forget about Peeta. He’s going to be taken care of by someone else.

“The guys are up there.” You point to Brutus, “That’s Finnick, Peeta and Beetee. They’ll be easier to take later on. We need to get Katniss and Johanna while we can.”

Brutus nods, “They’re split up, it’s the perfect time to do it.”

“Exactly.” You hook your finger around the wire, “They have the other end. We should cut it and go around.”

He nods, you pull out your knife. You’re going to alert both ends that you’re here, which will close your window significantly. You take in a deep breath, readying yourself. You slice upwards, the wire cuts the back of your hand when it recoils. You grit your teeth, watching the blood spring out.

You get to your feet, hurrying down the slope, Brutus right on your heels. You make it down to where Johanna and Katniss disappeared. You slip, barely catching yourself as you slide down loose dirt. At the bottom, you’re able to see Katniss, laid out on her back, blood gushing from her forearm.

The tracker is out.

“She’s as good as dead!” Brutus shouts, “Come on, (Y/n)!”

It must be happening tonight then, which means you need to get this show on the road. If they’re rescuing the victors tonight, Brutus needs to be dead and you have to figure out where they’re retrieving the victors. If you stay, you’ll get caught by the Capitol.

You take off after Brutus, readying the knife in your hands. You can’t take him head-on, the only option is to attack him from behind. He’s so much quicker than you are, and he’s gaining on Johanna, who had a head start to get away. You’re hoping to kill Brutus and let Johanna get away, until she twists herself around, axe ready to fight.

She swings at Brutus, he jumps back, you jerk at her. She changes her attention to you, and you can see her expression harden. You watch as she turns her body to you entirely, forgetting about Brutus. Johanna would love nothing more than to kill you, after years of threatening to do it.

She won’t get her chance.

She swings at you, you dodge, passing your knife to the other hand, going to slam it through her arm. She can be harmed, the only thing you were told was that she couldn’t be killed. They’d prefer if she were alive, because it’d be easier if more victors were alive to support Katniss’ cause.

Johanna twists away, you grab the handle of the axe, fighting her for it. Brutus reaches for her, trying to take her out while she’s distracted. She swings her elbow back, baring teeth at Brutus, fist slamming into his jaw. You yank on the axe, she lets go because she’s focused on Brutus.

With both of your hands, you strike upwards towards Brutus’ neck. The axe slices through skin and muscle, a fountain of warm blood rains down on you and Johanna. You let go, Brutus stumbles back, hands on the blade, before his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Johanna’s got a fistful of your hair, her other hand balled up and aimed for your face. You can feel the ground shake when Brutus collapses. There is no cannon right now, but there will be one soon.

You catch Johanna’s wrist, twisting her to the ground, nails digging into her flesh to get her to let go. She doesn’t care, she pulls you down, making you fall on top of her.

“Let go of me!” You snarl, your scalp is screaming at you.

You can’t help it, you don’t even realize you’ve slammed your knife through her forearm until she lets out a scream. Her grasp loosens enough for you to be able to push her shoulders down harshly. When she tries to grab at you again, you break her nose with a single punch.

You back off of her, gasping. You reach up to touch the area she had been ripping hair out of, and it’s tender to the touch. Johanna’s got a hand over her nose, but she’s already getting up, ready for another fight. Brutus’ cannon blasts.

“That’s it?” She taunts, there’s blood running down her chin, and her arm.

You get to your feet, “We’re allies, you fucking freak.”

“Right.” She lets out a bitter laugh, “Good one.”

You reach into your wetsuit, feeling around your sports bra until you find the gold ring that you were given by Haymitch. You pull it out, watching as it catches the light. Johanna stares at you for a long moment, squinting her eyes.

“He didn’t tell us about you.” She spits.

“That’s because you guys wouldn’t be able to be subtle for the life of you.” You snap, “You’re not very discreet, moron.”

You’d say she’s disgusted, but she always has that stupid look on her face. Johanna gets to her feet, rolling her shoulders. You prepare for her to come at you for another fight, but she waves you off.

“Where are you going?” You ask, watching her walk away.

“Back to the tree.” She mutters, “Feel free to stay here.”

“What about Katniss?”

“She’ll find her way back, she’s a big girl.” Johanna sends you a look over her shoulder, “Guess you’re just as clueless as we are. Or Haymitch doesn’t trust you.”

“Trusted me enough to ask me to do this.” You glare at the back of her head, “And you owe me a ��thank you’ by the way.”

“For what? Stabbing me and breaking my nose?” She snaps.

“For saving your life.” You correct her.

She lets out a loud laugh, turning to face you, “You think I couldn’t take Brutus on my own?”

“You couldn’t even hold onto a goddamn axe correctly to keep me from grabbing it. I’m pretty sure you’d be dead right now if it weren’t for me.” You roll your eyes.

“I was fighting the both of you off.” She raises her eyebrows.

“Oh, and now you’re playing the victim, as per usual.”

You watch her nose flare, “Get the fuck away from me!”

“What? You don’t like getting your own treatment?” You laugh, going to pass her, “Go-fucking-figure. Johanna Mason can piss off anyone, but as soon as it’s her turn, she wants to cry about it.”

A sharp pain explodes across your jaw.

—

A wedding in the middle of a rebellion, truly tasteful of Plutarch to come up with. You can’t say you’re that surprised though, he comes from the Capitol. What you can’t believe is that Finnick and Annie actually agreed to let it happen, and for it to be used as propaganda.

If you were in their shoes, you’d wait until you’re back home before you celebrate something so big. In District Two, a wedding is nothing to shrug off, it’s an important event. Most weddings take place outdoors because of the fresh air, and it’s always the perfect temperature for it. All clothes must be made to request to make sure that they’re original. A singular wedding in Two can have hundreds of guests, some of them being people you’ve never met before, but come to celebrate with gifts and drinks.

You guess it’s not all that different for them right now. They’ve got each other, a few friends that they know, and hundreds of District Twelve and Thirteen citizens that they’ve never met before. At least back home you know that people will be respectful because you share the same culture. Here, you’re afraid to step on any toes.

You couldn’t imagine getting married in a cement chamber.

Regardless, you’re happy for them. Even though Plutarch asked you to come so that you’d show up in the propo footage—you’d planned on coming anyway. Finnick had personally invited you, he wanted to make sure that you were here. After all, you’re the reason why you were all rescued at the tree, instead of sent to the Capitol.

Well, with the exception of Peeta, since he went running into the woods after Finnick told him to stay put at the tree. Had he just listened, the only person that would’ve needed to be rescued from the Capitol is Annie. Everyone else would’ve been here.

The beat that everyone’s dancing two gets faster, forcing the rest of you to catch up, clapping to the beat to keep up. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Johanna approaching Katniss. They talk for a minute, and then Katniss carefully joins the dancing crowd, blending in easily, since it’s a dance from her district.

They’re jumping, laughing, spinning, joining hands to create one large circle together.

You don’t even realize Johanna’s snuck up next to you until she’s speaking, “What? You aren’t going to join them for attention?”

You roll your eyes, “Let me guess, you’re too prideful to join?”

You and her share a long look. The corners of her lips twitch, and she lets out a laugh, turning away, “I would, but I don’t know the steps.”

“Neither do I.” You admit. “District Two has something similar to what Finnick’s doing, but I think he made that up on the spot.”

“Show me.” Johanna motions at you.

Your face twists, “I need a partner, I can’t do it alone. It won’t look right.”

Johanna holds her hands out, waiting for you to take them. You don’t take them right away, shocked that she’s even insisting in the first place. Although, you’re not sure why. In the weeks after being rescued from the arena, you and Johanna have become more friendly with each other. It has something to do with the fact that you live in the same place, have the same friends, and see each other frequently. You’re practically friends.

This doesn’t stop her from starting every conversation with an insult.

“Keep up.” You take her hands, pulling her towards you, “Because we don’t do slow.”

Johanna grins.

You start by teaching her the steps, gradually getting faster. She watches how fast you move your feet, the way you’ll move your hands. You spin her, pull her back, twist, drop, let go. It’s a pattern that she begins to recognize over time, even though it’s a long number.

There’s a genuine laugh coming out of Johanna, her cheeks a gentle shade of red. She pushes the hair out of her face to give her a better look at what she’s doing. You twirl her, making her trip over her feet on purpose. She grabs onto your shoulder, and you dip her down slightly.

She’s breathing hard, trying to catch her breath. You return her back to her feet, letting go. You can see that everyone else has stopped dancing, they’ve turned their attention to see the cake that’s been wheeled into the room. It’s beautiful, and it’s almost unbelievable.

“(Y/n).” Johanna murmurs.

You turn to look at her, two hands grab either side of your face, and warm lips press to yours. You grab the wrists tightly, carefully pulling away to see Johanna watching you, gauging your reaction.

A smirk comes over your face, “Don’t go soft on me now.”

“Shut up.” She pulls her wrists from your hands, you don’t fight her. She crosses her arms over her chest. You two stand quietly, watching Finnick and Annie get ready to cut the cake. “That was a thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” You ask, eyebrows twitching.

“For saving my life in the arena.”

You bump your shoulder into hers, “Anytime, Johanna.”

#ilguna #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x you #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x yn #johanna imagine #johanna oneshot #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #thg #the hunger games #requested

462 notes · View notes

misfit-mccoward · 4 months ago

Text

oh yeah i added more onto the deidara/minakushi au. takes place after the events written up here, where deidara is taken captive by konoha

ummm i guess content warning that consent in this fic follows porn logic, not real world logic. so everyone is happy about having sex and into it, even though one person is being held prisoner against her will

****

Deidara mopes in her cell. She has a cot with a single blanket she considered blowing up to try and escape, but the room is so obviously plastered in fuinjutsu that she doesn’t bother. Instead she lies on the cot, thinking about her current circumstance.

Being captured by Konoha was pretty bad. She didn’t like that, or being thrown in a little room by herself. But this wasn’t as bad as the sting of being betrayed by Akatsuki. After she’d done so much for all of them, and they’d just thrown her out like trash?

I’ll get my revenge, Deidara decides. She’ll tell Konoha, and any other village that will listen, all their little secrets. Then she’ll go over and blow them up herself if she can!

Except. Here is what was throwing her for a loop. Why hadn’t the Hokage fucked her?

You see, dear reader, Deidara’s logic does not function as ours does. To her, the benefit of being tied up is that someone will come and fuck her. The entire world is her plaything, and she doesn’t understand why she has been denied.

Deidara had never actually been captured before. But she’d detained other ninja a few times, and it seemed like every time they were wildly hot criminals and she ended up being uncharacteristically clumsy and tripping and falling right into their junk. Then they’d have a fun little sexy game where they both pretended they hated each other, have sex, and then all conflict would be resolved. It was the great unifying force of her world.

Is it some sort of power play kink? She wonders. She dips a hand down her pants, playing with herself as she toys with some different ideas. He came in, flashing his massive, delicious looking cock, and then not done anything to her. Orgasm denial?

And his dick had looked so good, Deidara remembers, moving her fingers faster. In Deidara’s world, there was nothing better than having the biggest, fattest dick shoved inside her. It wasn’t fair to tease her and then leave her with next to nothing! Just a cumshot? Really? She’d even offered more.

The logical path forward had seemed so obvious to her, the moment she’d seen him. He should have threatened to fuck her, she’d have pretended to not be into it for a hot second, and then finally they’d mutually go at it and she’d come about seven times and he’d fall in love with her and do whatever she wanted. That was just what the natural course of action should have been here.

I’ll have to try harder, she decides. She works another finger into herself, breathing hard. She’ll seduce the Hokage, make him help her get her revenge, and have a ton of kinky sex!

The resulting orgasm she solicits from herself is, honestly, kind of sad. She wishes she just had his dick…

And if all that doesn’t work, she thinks, rolling over to her side. I’ll just escape, yeah.

xXx

In the morning, the Hokage comes into her cell. Annoyingly, he’s wearing actual pants this time. Behind him is a pretty woman.

Deidara eyes her critically. She’s around Konan’s age, with long red hair. It frames her face and makes her pouty lips look even redder than they really are. Her outfit is cute but unsexy, a loose fitting haori over Konoha blue shirt and trousers.

Deidara writes her off. She’s hot, but clearly not hot enough to be a major player.

“Who’s this?” Deidara asks, turning back to Minato. “Your sexy secretary you touch yourself at night to?”

Minato clears his throat. “This is Kushina, my wife.”

He explains that Kushina is the resident fuuinjutsu master who will be sealing Deidara’s chakra, and Deidara goes back to studying her. Could Deidara convince Minato to cheat on his wife for her…? Deidara’s never not been able to tempt a married person before, but Minato appears… resistant.

They take Deidara to a nondescript room and tell her to take off her clothes.

“It’s for the seal,” Minato says, carefully not looking Deidara in the eyes. His cheeks are pink, even as his tone remains professional. “It will cover your whole body.”

“Okay,” Deidara says, deciding maybe this will be fun after all.

She’s as sexy as she can be as she takes off her clothes, rolling her body as she removes her shirt. They took away her own bra cover in the Hokage’s cum, which is a shame, and gave her an ugly beige one, which is an even bigger shame. In Deidara’s world, all bras were sexy and could make your cleavage look amazing. Who knew they could be ugly?

She throws her dsicarded clothes in the vague direction of Minato, who shies away from them, like they might harm him if he stands too close.

Despite flinching away from her tossed clothes, Minato very obviously does not watch her as she strips, although Kushina watches her with evident interest. Deidara smirks at her.

“Kushina will be taking the lead, ma’am,” Minato says, still not looking at her naked body.

“Ma’am?” Both Deidara and Kushina repeat, incredulous.

Kushina explains she will have to paint all over Deidara’s body, and that she should listen to Kushina’s instructions on how to move carefully, or else the seal could get messed up in a way that could kill Deidara. Deidara is sure it could also get messed up in a way that would motivate her to move around a lot, such as just failing to work. Or, once, Deidara had heard of someone getting a zero gravity seal stuck to her tits, which sounds kind of fun.

“And Hokage-sama won’t be helping?” Deidara asks, trying not to sound too hopeful. Maybe he won’t fuck her, but she could probably get herself off to him coming on her again.

“No,” Kushina says, stepping up closer to Deidara. “You’re stuck with me, you know.”

Kushina then eyes Deidara up and down slowly, taking in every inch of her naked body.

“Ugh,” Kushina says, frowning in concentration. “There’s a lot of chakra static interference. Must be because we both have so much.”

“Chakra static?” Minato prompts, as if he’s never heard this term before. Which is absurd, because this is a very well-recorded and real thing in Deidara’s world.

“Yes, it happens when chakra residue interferes with itself,” Kushina says. She frowns at Minato. “Surely you’ve run into it before. I have this problem all the time, since I have so much excess.”

“Well…” Minato starts, looking unsure of himself.

“Only one thing for it, you know,” Kushina says, and then shrugs off her haori. “The best way to get rid of static is to take off all your clothes.

“Wait,” Minato starts, alarmed, but Kushina tosses her shirt at him, followed by the rest of her clothes.

Kushina strips down to her bra and panties, which are a lacy matching set the same shade of vivid red as her hair. This choice for work makes sense to Deidara. Why wouldn’t she be dressed like this?

Kushina’s figure, once it's revealed to Deidara, is perfect. She has long, shapely legs leading to perfectly round hips, and her stomach is toned from her active lifestyle as a ninja. Her boobs are also pretty big, pushed up by her bra and then overflowing, like she’d recently grown a cup size and hadn’t yet bought new underwear.

Maybe she is a major player, Deidara thinks, imagining running her tongue over the lacy edges of Kushina’s bra.

“Wait, Kushina,” Minato repeats, clutching her clothes to him like they’re protecting him from something. Or maybe hiding another erection. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I do,” Kushina replies, running her eyes over Deidara’s naked body clinically. Deidara shivers. “A permanent chakra sealing is tricky work. We can’t have any static, you know.”

Wait, Deidara thinks, her attention on Kushina’s thick thighs snapped. They said that before.

“What do you mean, ‘permanent’?” Deidara asks, suddenly feeling nervous.

“We’re going to permanently cut off your ability to mold chakra, so you can never use jutsu again,” Kushina says. She takes another step towards Deidara. “Since you just have so much and are so, so dangerous.”

Deidara’s brain buzzes. She can smell Kushina’s floral scent, some sort of perfume wafting off her, and the way Kushina calls her dangerous makes something inside of Deidara turn hot. But, also, having all her chakra cut off forever seems like… like such a bad outcome. She wouldn’t be able to make art anymore, or get her revenge.

This isn’t fair, Deidara thinks, taking a step back. I just wanted to fuck someone hot and have them help kill my enemies, is that so much to ask for?!

“Fuck off,” Deidara hisses out, and then she makes a run for it.

Deidara makes a hand sign, and her clothes, covered in her saliva, explode. Minato, standing against the wall where she’d tossed them, leaps to the side. With his attention diverted, Deidara grabs for Kushina’s throat, aiming to rip it out with her hand mouths.

“No,” Kushina tells her firmly, and then Deidara’s arm is being yanked back.

Gold chains bloom from the floor, wrapping around Deidara’s arms and legs. She yelps, struggling against them, but they pull her back and pin her to the floor. Her arms and legs are both pulled apart. Kushina leans over her, her red hair swaying around her face.

“Not even you can get out of those,” Kushina tells her. “Now lay there and behave.”

Deidara glares up at the ceiling as Kushina and Minato have a brief conversation about her. Deidara makes a few attempts to pull at the chains, but they are solid and unmoving around her.

Kushina reappears in her peripheral vision. Then Kushina steps over her, panting her feet on either side of Deidara’s hips, and then lowers herself. Kushina sits on Deidara’s hips, her knees on either side of her.

“Kushina,” Minato objects.

“This is the best angle,” Kushina replies.

Kushina turns and looks down at Deidara, whose opinion of the situation is getting more and more confused in her mind. Deidara doesn’t want her chakra sealed. But also, this position…

Holy fuck, Deidara thinks.

Looking up at her, Kushina looks like some sort of goddess. Her blood red hair is haloed by the light above, and her hair drips over her shoulders like rivers of crimson. Backlit as she is, her hair seems to blend with the lace of her underwear, like she’s sitting completely naked and in charge on top of Deidara.

Kushina’s thighs are firm over her, squeezing around Deidara’s hips. Kushina has her pinned completely, unable to move except at Kushina’s whim.

Kushina is holding a pot of ink and a brush.

“Most of this will go over your heart,” Kushina says, and then reaches forward and touches Deidara.

Her hand is warm as she sets it over Deidara’s breast, moving it gently. Deidara lets out a whimper, her whole body feeling hot. Kushina moves her, manipulates her, has complete control over her, and Deidara can’t help but be aroused.

Off in the corner, Minato makes a weird noise.

“I can take it from here if you can’t handle it,” Kushina says, her eyes not moving from Deidara. “It’s not like she can do anything like this.”

Deidara wimpers again, her cunt suddenly aching. She’ll let Kushina do anything to her, actually, if it keeps going like this.

Minato must leave, because there’s no more commentary from him as Kushina carefully paints a seal over Deidara. The ink feels cool in the air, and Deidara shivers. She feels her nipples harden from either the temperature or just from her own arousal.

“You already have a seal here,” Kushina observes of Deidara’s chest. Her finger traces it, and her face cocks to the side in interest. “I’ll have to be careful.”

Usually, Deidara would mock Kushina, ask her if she was enjoying playing with her tits. But for this, whatever this is, Deidara stays silent, letting Kushina press down on her or move her as she wants. The only sound that comes from Deidara are a few sad little whines.

If she behaves, Kushina will finish her, right? They’ll have sex. Deidara is desperate for this inevitability, the warmth and ache between her legs gradually increasing with intensity.

Kushina’s seal also goes over both arms, and Kushina leans directly over Deidara’s face to get at them, putting her breasts on full display. Deidara pulls half-heartedly at the chains on her legs and arms, wishing she could do anything to alleviate the ache between her legs, or that she could press herself up to touch Kushina back.

Kushina paints over her stomach, ignoring the sad sounds of desperation Deidara makes, and then retreats to kneel between Deidara’s legs to seal them as well.

Kushina must be able to smell Deidara, see how she’d basically dripping for her. Kushina doesn’t comment though, feeling up Deidara’s legs before painting her strange symbols over them. Deidara lets out a little moan as the brush moves against the soft flesh of her inner thighs.

Kushina doesn’t touch her, though, doesn’t even dip the soft brush into her. Deidara bites her bottom lips, her thigh muscles tensing as she tries to bring them together, but Kushina holds her firm. Deidara wants it so bad it’s physically painful.

“There,” Kushina finally says, sounding pleased with herself. “Now I just have to activate it.”

She straddles Deidara’s hips again, peering down at her. This is Deidara’s last moment to stop this, her last chance to prevent her chakra from being sealed entirely, from letting Kushina completely and utterly bend her to her will.

“I’ll have to do it with my mouth,” Kushina says. “Be good and don’t resist.”

Never mind, Deidara thinks. She doesn’t even argue as Kushina sets both hands on either side of Deidara's head.

The logic of this jutsu makes perfect sense to Deidara. After all, how else is one supposed to get their chakra inside another person?

Kushina lowers herself slowly, and Deidara notes that her perfect white teeth are just a little sharper than usual. Her lips are soft as they meet Deidara’s, but her tongue slips into Deidara’s mouth with no preamble or teasing. It’s a domineering move, entering her and forcing chakra into her, and Deidara does nothing to resist. She lays there, unable to move, feeling the power of Kushina’s hot chakra roll and push its way down her throat, her cunt throbbing for the same attention.

Kushina’s chakra feels like nothing Deidara has experienced before. It’s hot, burning, and so strong it seems like no one should be able to fight it. Deidara gasps against Kushina’s mouth as it fills her chest, making her feel hot.

Kushina’s tongue stays in her though, and Deidara squirms. She swallows up more chakra, greedy for it even as it seems like too much, as it fills her, trying to beam into Kushina mind that Deidara is hers and she could do whatever she wants to her. Overwhelmed with arousal, Deidara starts sucking her tongue, and Kushina pulls back.

“Huh,” Kushina says, staring down at how Deidara is panting pathetically from her, their lips still connected by a string of saliva. “Maybe that seal in your chest is a problem.”

“Wha…” Deidara says, inarticulate. Kushina climbs off of her, and Deidara whines for her to come back.

“Your chakra is sealed for now,” Kushina tells her, standing over her. “But I’ll have to talk to Minato. You might have lucked out; I don’t think it’s actually going to stick forever.”

Of course, Deidara thinks, struggling against the chains, desperate to get her legs together if Kushina wasn’t going to touch her for her. Because otherwise I wouldn’t fuck you, and I need you to fuck me.

“So will you fuck me now?” Deidara asks, sounding pathetically needy even to her own ears.

“Fuck you?” Kushina asks, sounding surprised. “No, Minato says we shouldn’t…”

“But I want it!” Deidara cries, feeling actual tears prick in the corners of her eyes. “I want it so bad, yeah!”

Kushina is staring down at her, and Deidara sees something behind her eyes wavering. Deidara squirms some more, doing her best to make her boobs shift and bounce for Kushina, as they’re the only unbound part of her.

“You– you got me spread eagle and horny,” Deidara whines, feeling the weight of her breasts roll over her and wishing Kushina would just reach down and squeeze them. “And you won’t even fuck me? Isn’t this some sort of war crime?”

Kushina hesitates. She bites her bottom lip, and Deidara can tell she wants it too.

“Well,” Kushina says at length. “There’s another way I could activate your seal, you know.”

Kushina gets down on her knees between Deidara legs. Deidara feels the chains on her ankles loosen, and she does not need to be commanded to move her legs onto Kushina’s shoulders.

Kushina’s hands dig into her thighs, holding her in place, and then her tongue licks the length of Deidara’s cunt, tasting her. Deidara lets out a strangled yell of pleasure, her tears from her pleading dripping down her face as she squeezes her eyes shut.

Kushina buries her face into Deidara, her nose brushing against her clit as her tongue dips as deep into Deidara as she can get it. Hot chakra fills Deidara again, seeping into her like Kushina owns Deidara, like Kushina is pushing her way in and taking over every part of Deidara, and Deidara groans out Kushina’s name from how good it feels. Kushina keeps going, relentless, her chakra full and strong and unending as it creeps up Deidara’s body and into every one of her nerve cells, until Deidara finally comes, her legs shaking as she gasps out Kushina’s name again.

Kushina drops her legs. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“So,” Kushina says. The chains retreat from Deidara, who stays lying in a sweaty, panting mess on the floor. “That didn’t work, but it was worth the try, you know.”

“So what are you going to do?” Deidara asks. Her voice is weak and pathetic. She hopes Kushina will try again.

“I have to talk to my husband,” Kushina replies. Deidara clicks her tongue, annoyed. That guy is hot, but he’s so annoying.

22 notes · View notes

spacesapphi · 5 months ago

Text

"Moving Forward, Spiraling Downward Chapter 6- Swallow Your Pride"

THE BIG ONE...

Want to start off with content warnings again

CW for brief mentions of addiction and death, suicidal ideation, and warning for emetophobia

ALSO IMPORTANT!!! Since g as a currency is REALLY weird in game, I decided to come up with a basic format that will be used through the fic. Every 100g is equivalent to 1 USD. So 100g is a dollar, 1000 is ten, 10,000 is a hundred (so on and so forth). I mention this bc there's a number mentioned here that seems CRAZY high, but is actually equivalent to around 2,000 dollars.

AO3 Version Here

Tumblr Version beneath the cut!

Years back in college, it had been tradition for Shane and his friends to spend the last Friday of each month to ditch all plans and responsibilities, using it instead to hang out with each other. They often got incredibly busy as the semesters progressed, leaving little time for each other outside of gridball practice and classes. But that day was something to look forward to, a day with no other worries than their little group. Even though they weren’t here anymore, Shane had been making an effort to keep the tradition alive in the only way he could.

Right after getting Jas from school, he drove right over to the cemetery where they rested, laying down a blanket and sitting with her by their headstones. Jas would just talk about her day, about what she got up to at school that morning, what she and her friends would talk about. Sometimes the two of them would have a snack, sit there for a while and just think. On most occasions, it put Shane at ease. Not today, though.

He barely paid attention to Jas’ story of the day, he couldn’t. His mind was somewhere entirely different, unable to focus on anything other than the headstones in front of him, and the photo plaque sitting beneath the etched names. Looking at the two of them, looking into their eyes, he just felt shame. He wanted so badly to tell them he was sorry, for everything. He desperately wanted to hear them say they forgave him, that they understood the circumstances. Shane wasn’t the same man he was when they asked him to be Jas’ godfather, and he was sure he’d never be that man again. Back then he was so naive, so full of joy. But time had turned him into a bitter, tired man, and he could only hope they’d understand.

He remembered what he promised at their funeral. “I’m gonna do right by you.”. If they could see him today, would they have thought he kept that promise? Was he doing right by them? He hoped he was, but deep down he knew they’d be so deeply disappointed in him. If Jas wasn’t here with him, he’d be groveling at the site, pleading for their forgiveness for just how much he’d fucked up this past year alone. Every word he wanted to say to them ran through his head, every fiber of his being begging for them to be able to hear it, wherever they were now.

“Uncle Shane?”

He snapped out of his daze, looking to see Jas tugging at his sleeve, “What’s up, Jas?”

“Did you hear my question?”

“No… no sorry, my head’s been funny today,” he sighed, looking apologetic, “I’m listening now though, what’s wrong?”

“Umm…” she suddenly looked nervous to ask.

She looked towards the photo plaque Shane had been staring at, “Today, teacher told me they’re with Yoba… is it true?” she asked, a genuine curiosity in her voice.

Shane frowned, confused as to why her teacher would be talking about that with her. It sounded like he needed to have a chat with them next time he dropped her off, “How’d that come up?”

“I told her we were visitin’ them..’” Jas shrugged, “And she told me that…. Are they?”

“They…. Of course they are, Jassy,” Shane held her close to his side, “They were good people, great people. Where they are now, no one’s ever sad, nothing bad happens to anyone. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Are you gonna go be with Yoba?” Jas’ voice cracked just a bit, “So you won’t be sad anymore?”

“No, no… Not for a long, long time, kiddo,” he hugged her tight, giving her a smile, “I’m not goin’ anywhere,”

He caught a glimpse of the time on his watch, seeing the hour was starting to grow late. He didn’t have much more time before Rich’s deadline, and he still needed to grab his paycheck. Giving an exaggerated huff, he motioned his head towards the car, “Time to go, we have to stop at work,”

“Aww it’s borin’ there…” Jas whined, “And it smells funny.”

“Yeahhh I don’t like it either. Uncle Shane’s gotta get his paycheck though.” he stood, motioning for her to follow, “Won’t be too long, I promise.”

Jas gave him a pouty expression and continued to sit, still not interested in going. Shane sighed in frustration. Why must she be difficult when they were under a time crunch?, “I’ll give you a quarter for the candy machine if you get in the car, okay?”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Jas immediately hopped up, running off to the car even faster than him. Shane just shook his head, getting the two of them settled in and driving off.

The moment he walked into the store, Shane’s coworkers got hush, giving him awkward glances and whispering to each other as he walked back towards the boss’ office. It was completely surreal. They looked like they had just seen someone die, like there was a ghost in their midst. It made him feel uneasy, a sick feeling creeping up his throat. He couldn’t explain it, he didn’t even know why they were giving him that look, but he knew it couldn’t be from anything good.

Jas caught wind of it too, whispering softly, “Why are they lookin’ at you like that?”

“I dunno…” Shane whispered back, trying to shake the growing feeling of unease from his mind.

He sat Jas down at the chairs in front of the office, pulling a 25g coin from his pocket and placing it in her palm, “Go get somethin’ while you wait, okay? I’ll be right back,”

“Okay!” Jas was about to run off before Shane snapped his fingers to get her attention. Giving her a knowing look, he spoke sternly, “No gum, Jas,” the two of them remembered well what had happened last time she got it, and the last thing Shane or Jas wanted to do was spend another 3 hours trying to get it out of her hair again. She gave him a quick nod and ran off once again.

Once she was off to the machines, Shane knocked on the office door, getting greeted by the store owner instead of his boss. It took him aback for a minute. He was rarely here, only on special occasions… or when someone was in trouble. Based on the look on his face, Shane had a gut feeling he was in trouble.

“You’re Tom, right?” he asked sheepishly, earning a less than impressed look by the older man, “It’s Mr. Lidle to you.” he snipped, giving Shane the dirtiest look he’d gotten in a long while.

“Sorry.. I’m just here to get my paycheck, can I see Andy?” He stood on tip-toe to look for his boss in the office, feeling uneasy when he got a glimpse of the scene inside. Andy was indeed in his office, sitting nervously at his desk, staring down at a hefty stack of papers. Nothing too out of the usual there besides the expression. But next to him was an officer. He was in full uniform, and he looked terrifying. What the hell was going on?

“Let’s talk about that paycheck, actually,” Lidle grumbled, motioning for Shane to follow. Reluctantly, he stepped into the office, feeling himself grow more anxious by the second. Lidle pointed to an empty chair in front of the desk, “Sit.” he demanded.

He did as he was told, sitting up straight and folding his hands neatly on the desk to show he was listening. Lidle stood behind the desk, folding his arms, “Andy, do you want to tell him what’s going on?”

The younger man couldn’t look Shane in the eye, obviously nervous and reluctant to be a part of this conversation. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t form the words. He shook his head, earning a frustrated groan from Lidle.

“I have to do every damn thing around here…” he grumbled, shooing Andy from the seat and taking his place, looming over the table, “Let’s keep this short and sweet, shall we? For starters, you’re fired. Effective immediately.”

Shane opened his mouth to protest, immediately getting a hand shoved in his face, “I’m still talking,” Lidle barked, “Take a look at these for me, will you?”

He passed over the stack of papers, which Shane could now see was written in a very confusing format. Each page was covered in a list of seemingly random inventory items, all with varying quantities that didn’t quite make sense to Shane. He furrowed his brow, looking back up to his bosses in confusion, “Wh… what is this?”

“That, Shane, is an itemized list of everything you’ve shoplifted since you’ve begun working here. You do know we check the cameras, right?”

“I-I didn’t-”

“Andy here finally decided to get me involved in this, handed over the tapes so we could get these receipts together. There was a frankly abysmal amount to pour over. Do you want to explain yourself?”

Shane took a deep breath, trying to collect himself before speaking. He was obviously shaking, his skin pale and clammy, “It’s been h-hard to afford groceries… I have a kid and I need to make sure she’s eatin’, so I’ve been takin’ things from the back for her,”

“And what exactly does she need from the beer counter, Shane? Hmm?” Lidle asked, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Shane froze, unable to look Lidle in the eye. Even still, he could tell that his expression was full of anger, just from hearing his tone of voice alone. Lidle huffed, “I asked you a question.”

“I.. I don’t have an explanation.” he warbled, feeling faint. It was already embarrassing enough being caught, talking about his problem too would’ve killed him. He felt ready to pass out from the anxiety he felt right then and there, his chest tightening with each passing moment.

Andy finally spoke, using a much softer, understanding tone, “Shane, we’ve discussed the situation for some time now, and we’re giving you two choices here.”

“What…?”

“The first option is using this paycheck to pay for the damages,” Andy explained, “We’ll forget any of this happened, and you just go home today without it, clean slate.”

He took a moment to pause, reluctantly looking toward the officer in the corner. He closed his eyes tight, feeling so pained. Andy thought Shane was a good guy. Yeah, he could be a bit of a slacker somedays, and his work sometimes needed a do-over, but he was always a good guy to be around. He had tried for so long to ignore the theft, knowing that most of it was necessary, but he couldn’t protect him anymore. Yoba, he hated doing this.

“If… If not, Mr. Lidle has decided to press charges. I-I’m gonna be honest, it doesn’t look good for you, Shane. This is over 200 thousand g worth of damages. That’s five years jail time…” Andy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t want that for you. I don’t want that for your kid.”

“You have until 5 to make your decision,” Lidle stated flatly, “And if you don’t decide, I’ll do it for you... I don’t think you want me to do that,”

“There’s nothing else I can do…?”

“Shane, it was hard enough to fight to even give you a choice,” Andy sighed, “I did all I could, this is the best we can offer.”

Shane took shaky, shallow breaths, staring down at his lap while his mind raced. If he let them take the check, he’d be evicted by tomorrow. If he didn’t, he would go to jail, and Yoba knew what would happen with Jas. He already couldn’t bring himself to talk to Marnie, how the hell would he handle calling her to tell her about this, to ask her to take Jas in while he was in prison? No matter what he chose, no matter what he did, his life was about to change for the worst. Only one option didn’t result in the worst case scenario. Closing his eyes tight, he reluctantly made his choice.

“Keep the check.” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and defeated. Lidle nodded slowly, breathing out through his nose, “Good choice. Now get the hell out.”

Shane nodded, slowly rising from his seat and stumbling towards the door. Jas was sitting patiently on the chair outside, swinging her legs as she ate a handful of fruit candies she had gotten from the machine. She smiled when she saw her godfather emerge, hopping up from her seat and following alongside him, “Did you get the money?”

When Shane didn’t respond, Jas immediately got the feeling something was wrong. He looked so sad, so upset. She held out her hand with the candies in it, offering one to him. Having a little treat always made her feel better when she was sad, maybe it would help him! He slowly shook his head, swallowing back a sob, “Nah, it’s… it’s okay Jas, thank you,”

The drive back home was incredibly tense. He kept looking at the clock, seeing the time creep up. It was well past 5:00 pm, the final deadline Rich had given him, and he was empty handed. It was the best decision he could’ve made, the only one he could’ve made, but in no way would any of this be okay. He looked in the rearview mirror, watching Jas sit in her carseat, playing quietly and contentedly with two of her dolls. How was he supposed to explain to her that they were going to need to leave the apartment? That they had nowhere to go? He desperately tried to think of a story to tell her in his head, something that wouldn’t be scary for the little girl.

“Maybe I’ll just say we’re camping… yeah, that’s it…. Or that we’re going on a road trip… but where the hell would we go?” his head was spinning, his thoughts jumbling up with each other. He could barely grasp the situation himself, how the hell was he going to help Jas grasp it?

Getting back to the apartment building, Shane saw the dreaded red paper taped on his door. Seeing it in person finally sealed the deal for him. This was real, not just some nightmare scenario that made him anxious. He’d been evicted. Ripping the paper from the door, he scanned it over and over, as if he was hoping the next read-over would somehow change what it said. The words remained, though. He had until tomorrow morning to be out. Jas tugged on his sleeve, looking deeply concerned, “What’s wrong?”

Shane crumpled the paper in his hands, taking a deep breath before kneeling to her eye level, forcing a smile, “It’s fine, Jassy, I’m fine… I’m gonna need your help with somethin’ though, okay?”

“What is it?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. Shane breathed out, clasping his hands together as he spoke, “Well… we’re gonna go on a trip! A long one, so we have to get eeeeverything together that we can fit in the car.”

“Really?!” Jas instantly sounded excited, bouncing up and down at the thought of a trip, “To where?!”

Shane let out a short laugh, “You’ll see! It’s gonna be a surprise.”

He opened the door, watching Jas excitedly run in and take a look around the room, thinking long and well, “Can I take anythin’ I want?”

“Anythin’ you want!” Shane confirmed, ‘As long as it fits in the car,”

Jas immediately ran to grab her plushies off her bed, piling them up to start a ‘take’ pile. She fluttered around the room, grabbing her dress up accessories, craft supplies, and her most favorite outfits of all. The pile was growing to be almost as tall as her now, just about every single one of her belongings sitting in it, not that she had that much to begin with. Shane focused on more practical items, grabbing his clothes, medicine, documents, and a few sentimental items he hated to part with. The box of old memories and VHS tapes was among one of the first things he grabbed. If there was anything he needed to take most, it was that.

He looked back to Jas, seeing how giddy she looked as she packed her items into bags, stuffing each one tight with her belongings. He felt ready to break down, like he was going to be sick, but at least she looked happy. She wasn’t scared, wasn’t struck with the same worry that made him want to throw up. He was worried the trip story wouldn’t be believable, and he feared it would be less believable as time went on. Where the two of them would go he still had no idea, but he would figure it out. He always did.

The car was stuffed as much as it could be with their belongings, leaving the inside quite cramped and overfilled, though there was still much more inside the apartment. Furniture, dishes, and many personal belongings from both of them would need to be left behind. Shane silently cursed himself for choosing such a small car all those years ago. Getting into the driver's seat, he looked at the apartment building for the last time, huffing as he turned the key.

“Alright back there, Jas?” he asked, getting a nod from the girl. She looked out the window as they drove away, leaning her head against the glass. Part of her knew this wasn’t just a fun trip, as much as she wanted to believe it was. They weren’t going back, and that was clear enough. They’d never taken this much for a trip before, no one did. Where they’d end up, she had no clue, and it scared her a little. She wanted to cry, but she knew Uncle Shane was already upset, and she didn’t want to make it worse. Using all her strength, she stopped herself from crying, squeezing a plush close to her as Shane sped through the city streets.

She could see it in his face, just how dire all this was. They’d been on many trips before, and not once did he look distraught like this. Normally he’d be excited, blasting music, cracking jokes, talking with her. But the ride was silent, the only sounds coming from the city life outside their car, and the soft hum of the engine. Not a word was spoken by either of them, a silent understanding between the two that this was awful.

It was getting dark now, the sun starting to set over the city, and Jas could feel herself slowly lulling into sleep. As scared as she was, she trusted that Uncle Shane had it figured out, that when she woke up he’d have them somewhere safe and sound. It would be okay, it always was in the end. Her eyes slowly fluttered shut, sleep taking her for the night.

Shane was trembling in the driver's seat at this point. He’d been in a state of shock earlier, so much happening at once that he wasn’t able to emotionally register it all and act accordingly. But now, it was all beginning to sink in. Everything was sinking in. Yoba, his life was so fucked up, and the only thing he could blame was himself. He had so many chances to receive help, and pushed them away every single time. If he had just let go of his pride, if he had just stopped being such a stubborn ass, everything would be okay.

But here he was now. He was sick, growing sicker by the day, and starving. Looking in the mirror he looked like a dead man walking, scruffy, face sunken, clothes dirty and loose. He was in so much debt to just about everyone in the damn world at this point, an amount he’d never be able to pay off. He’d be in debt for the rest of his life at this point, the payments and looming anxiety of it all following him to his grave. And now, he was evicted, the only shelter he and Jas had being the car they sat in. No house, not a dollar in his pocket, nothing. The thought just about knocked the wind out of him. They were homeless. They were fucking homeless.

White-knuckle gripping the steering wheel, he began to feel himself panic. He couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, no matter how deep he breathed. It felt like his throat was closing up, like a hand was squeezing tight at his neck, digging it’s fingers in so deep that he’d bleed. He knew they weren’t safe living in the car, but there was nowhere for them to go either. It was his fault too, all his fucking fault. He had destroyed every connection he had left, cutting off those who loved him, and for what? For his pride? He was letting the situation get this bad, a situation that also affected Jas, all because he was too prideful to accept any help? Christ, what a selfish man he was.

He wanted to die, genuinely wished for death. He saw no way out of this situation, no way to get better. This was rock bottom. He’d dug himself into this pit willingly, destroying his life for no reason at all. Why was he like this? What was his fucking problem?! He just wanted to steer into oncoming traffic, get this shit over with and just stop feeling so damn miserable already. He’d let death take him, accepting that fate with open arms. The only thing stopping him from going through with it was little Jas in the backseat of the car.

Looking back at her he just felt his heart break. He felt like a failure. Jas would be better off without him as a guardian, he was sure. He wasn’t fit to raise her, he didn’t think he ever was. Yoba, why did he say yes when Jason asked him to be her godfather? He never thought he’d actually have to live up to the title, no one ever does! It was supposed to be honorary, why did it have to end up like this? Why did Jason decide to take the route they did that night, going down a busy road on one of the craziest nights of the year? If he had just taken the one Amelia suggested, the one that actually made sense, they would’ve been fine.

Deep in his heart he believed he should’ve been the one to go all those years ago. Yoba, or whatever sick fuck was in charge of fate, made a horrible mistake that night. They took two amazing people, people who should be witnessing their daughter’s achievements and milestones, raising her in a proper home. But they weren’t. They couldn’t.

Tonight he could make things right. Shane had always felt too small and stupid to take control of his life, like a useless piece of soiled garbage flittering in the wind. But tonight, he had an opportunity to finally take control of it, if only he had the guts to do it.

But what about Jas? If he did this, where would that leave her? Was he really going to take away another guardian in her life, leave her alone, confused and scared? The thought wouldn’t leave his mind, making him more distressed by the moment. Images of how he’d do it kept flashing in his mind, playing over and over again. He didn’t actually want that. He didn’t want to end this, he truly didn’t. Why did his mind insist on making him think about it? Why couldn’t he just get a hold of himself already?

He was crying so hard at this point that he could barely see the road in front of him, a sick feeling creeping up his throat and into his mouth. He couldn’t do this, he just couldn’t. It was a miracle that his sobs weren’t waking Jas up. Finally gaining some semblance of control over himself, he swerved the car to the shoulder of the road, parking abysmally. He quickly stumbled out of the front seat and into the grassy patch just next to the road, shaking with each step.

The grief of it all pulled him to his knees, throwing Shane to the ground as he vomited into the grass below. His body trembled like a leaf as he let sobs wrack him, his cries verging on inhuman screaming. He didn’t know he was capable of making sounds like that. His throat burned, his voice hoarse and warbling. Years worth of pent up mourning and rage, at life and himself, forced its way to the surface. Curled up on the ground, gripping his hair so tight it felt like it would rip from his scalp, he let the grief take him. What was he going to do? How was he supposed to get back on his feet? There were few supports in place for people in his position, and the ones that did exist were a struggle to get into. He was completely, utterly fucked. He had nothing.

He lay like that for some time, until the smell of the vomit below him became too much to bear. Lifting himself up pathetically, he sat hunched over on his knees, trying to take in deep breaths of the air around him. He still couldn’t stop the sobs, trembling and hicc-ing as he tried everything to calm himself down. Oh, he felt like such a child right now. Part of him wished he was, longing for the simpler, happier days of his youth.

He remembered how Marnie used to comfort him when he was little, getting him wrapped in a blanket, sitting in front of the fireplace and hugging him close, letting him cry it out until he felt ready to talk. He would give anything to hear her tell him it was going to be okay, for her to hold him tight and sing to him just like she did when he was young. Leaning against the side of the car, he closed his eyes, trying to ground himself. He wished he never cut her out of his life, wished he could go back in time, prevent himself from ever saying those awful things and leaving without another word. She had been right since day one. He should’ve gone home, he should’ve been at the ranch this entire time.

What a mess he had made of things. He was absolutely certain she hated him now. Even if he tried to go home, would she let him? Would she accept him with open arms, or just slam the door in his face? He deserved it for his behavior this past year, the childish silent treatment he had given her. His self esteem was non-existent, he felt too terrible to ever forgive, not worthy of a second chance. The thought that someone could care for him unconditionally, that his family loved him, it felt like fantasy. He would never forgive someone like himself, why would anyone else?

Furrowing his brows together, he rested his head on the cool metal of the car door, sighing with a shudder, “Yoba if you’re real, give me some kind of sign, please. Any sign, I don’t even care anymore…. I don’t know what to do…” he whispered in a shaky tone,”Anything… just tell me what to do…”

Opening his eyes he looked around at his surroundings, taking them in fully for the first time. He had been so panicked, so worked up during the drive, that he didn’t even notice where he was at first. He was on the bypass, the entry to the city’s main highway mere yards away from him. Cars whizzed by loudly on the left, folks traveling by without giving him a second glance. The streetlights slowly began to turn on as the sun fully set behind the mountains, the night beginning.

A bright yellow light came into view in front of him, piercing his red, swollen eyes with its intensity. He squinted and held up his hand to block it out. It took a moment for his vision to adjust, the light’s source coming into clear view. It was a floodlight mounted atop a bright green highway sign, illuminating it for all the nighttime travelers to see. It’s text was plain and simple, written in bold white letters:

“Stardew Valley- 10 Miles.”

His breath hitched as he read it, feeling something click in his mind. When he had asked for a sign, he didn’t mean something so… literal. But, a sign was a sign. Maybe he was meant to go home… Maybe he was meant to do so a long, long while ago. Maybe getting thrown to the street was some force in the universe finally forcing him to stop delaying the inevitable, if it existed that is. He was feeling his stubbornness slowly break down, his prideful spirit turning humble. Thinking about going home made him feel… hopeful. The voice in his head that told him to do it on his own had finally shut itself up, sitting in silent agreement with Shane for once.

The glow of the floodlight touched his face, its warmth beckoning him. If he closed his eyes he could practically imagine himself sitting in front of the fireplace at Marnie’s, wrapped in that warm blanket. He could almost feel it. Whether or not she’d accept him coming back, he had no clue. But he would never know unless he tried. He felt the last bit of resistance crumble away, the voice of reason finally speaking in his ear.

Wiping the tears from his face, he took one last deep breath to fully ground himself. He was ready. Getting back into the car, he took another look back at Jas, who still lay asleep in her carseat, head lulled to the side. His decision was only cemented from there. He had to do what was best for her, not his ego. He would do right by Jason and Amelia like he promised to do years ago. Jas would thrive in the valley. She could actually have a life, a proper home surrounded by kind people in a safe environment. Why had he waited so long? For once he was going to listen to that voice of reason, take the advice of those much wiser than him. Turning the key in the ignition, he started the car up once again, merging right back onto the bypass, homeward bound.

---------

Town square was still quite lively through the evening, vendors for the Stardew Valley Fair still having their booths up, allowing tourists to play games and enjoy the festivities provided. Many villagers were out and about too, the younger folk trying to see how many points they could wrack up at the games before the stands closed for the night, the elders of town preferring to spend their time talking amongst each other. It was a chorus of laughter and celebration, and regrettably, Marnie would not be joining them tonight. Between getting her grange display taken down and bringing the petting zoo animals back home, she was exhausted. Her entire body ached, begging to settle down for the first time in the day.

Laying back on the living room couch in her robe and nightgown, listening to an old vinyl to unwind, she was living the life. She found herself feeling more at peace today. Maybe it was because of her conversation with Pam, maybe from a general sense of acceptance of her life. Maybe it was both. For the first time in a long while, Marnie rested easy. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt such peace, but it had to have been before Winter Star. Her fear for the wellbeing of her nephew and grand-niece had subsided, her mind suddenly feeling much calmer about it. Perhaps it was her intuition letting her know all was well wherever they may be. Even still, she missed them dearly, and that would never stop being the case.

Just as she was about to drift to sleep, a horrid noise was heard outside, the grumbling of an engine and the squeak of brakes. She groaned in frustration, fully expecting yet another tourist to pull up in front of the ranch in their loud vehicle. Plenty of them had been using the space in front of her home to park, sending the chickens into a tizzy each and every time. Didn’t they know that scared the animals? With a grumble she sat up, slipping on a pair of shoes and stomping towards the door. Oh she had half a mind to give whoever this was an earful, to scold them for the intrusion. What was a tourist doing coming so late, anyways?

A loud knock rang out at the door, stopping her in her tracks. That, she didn’t expect. The folks visiting tended to walk straight to town square for the festivities. What did they want from her?

The knock came again, jolting Marnie back into action. She muttered under her breath about the inconvenience, grabbing the broom next to the door so she could use it to ward them off if need be. Grabbing the handle tight, she flung the door open, her expression grumpy and exhausted.

“What do you wa-” her annoyed tone of voice immediately softened, her voice cutting out as she took in the sight before her. It took her just a moment to recognize the man at the door. He looked so unkempt, the sweater and pants he wore far too large on him, his hair uneven and wild. But when she looked at his face and saw those green eyes, wide with both fear and hope, she knew who it was.

Shane cradled a sleeping Jas in his arms, looking at Marnie with a nervous expression. His chest felt tight again, he didn’t know what to expect. Marnie felt the broom slip from her hands, the rod falling to the dirt path with a loud thud.Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Was she dreaming?

The two of them just stared at each other, neither knowing what to say, where to begin after an entire year of no contact. Finally, Shane broke the silence, warbling out one simple sentence.

“I’m home, aendi,”

#sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley shane #sdv shane #sdv jas #sdv marnie #mfsd #sdv fanfiction #fanfic

11 notes · View notes

wynilthyrii · 5 months ago

Text

Lucky ones - Part 3

[See @graceintheshadows for part 2 and @lordaeronslost for part 1]

“What is taking so long?”

Wyn cut a look toward Tyr, frowning. “Just relax. They should be here soon.”

The medic glowered, his limp growing heavier with each step. Soon he’d have to actually use the cane in his hand instead of pretending it didn’t exist. “I don’t understand why it would take so long for you to get this information. You’d think that it’d be routed through the Order and you’d be able to lay hands on it at the Hall.”

“Bold of you to assume that the information you’re looking for is ready to sift down beyond the highest levels,” Wyn said, crossing her arms. “You could have asked Sol to lay hands on this for you, you know.”

“No one can find Sol right now, not even his wife.” Tyr stopped, squinting at her. “Do you know where he is?”

“You think that I’d have an idea if Kal doesn’t?” She shook her head. “He’d tell Radi before he told me.” Her eyes scanned over the sun-splashed expanse of the Exchange, looking for the expected courier. While her brother had his fingers tangled in the threads of part of their mother’s web, she had hers in others—including a few well-placed in the Magistry. Still, it was a delicate dance, getting information from them, especially when one was looking for information that was being spoken of in whispers and rumors and exaggerations more than fact.

Part of her was more than half certain the details remained unknown. Another was already contemplating what the response might be, if even half the rumors that had begun to fly in the city were true. Who had been there when it happened? Who would be among the first wave to respond—if anyone at all?

What, exactly, were they about to face, how many of them would it take, and how many would not come home?

“Something destroyed an entire city,” Tyr muttered, following her gaze out over the Exchange as he slumped against the wall beside her. “You would think everyone would be on the highest alert.”

“Perhaps we just don’t know enough about the circumstances yet.” She glanced toward him with a faintly furrowed brow. “Did you ever...?”

“No,” he whispered. “Nothing—nothing solid enough for me to want to give it voice.”

“But you wrote it down?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. “Yes.”

Wyn nodded in return and looked back out at the crowds milling along the Exchange, straightening from her lean as she caught a glimpse of the expected courier. “Wait here.”

For a second, she thought he might protest, but after a second Tyr simply nodded, sagging a little more against the wall with a faint frown. She held his gaze for a moment before she slipped off into the crowds. The courier caught her eye a moment later and they both stopped in the shade of one of the Exchange’s awnings.

“Lady Iltyhrii,” the courier murmured.

Wyn inclined her head, turning a hand with a pair of gold crowns and something bundled in a bit of silk toward the courier, who took them in exchange for an envelope and a small trinket. “Thank you.”

“Always a pleasure, m’lady,” the courier murmured, lingering a few moments more before they stepped away and back into the crowd. For the span of a few heartbeats, Wyn lingered behind, watching people come and go before she started to make her way back to Tyr. The medic was frowning at something as she approached, his gaze—and thoughts—seemingly elsewhere. It wasn’t until she laid a hand on his arm that he startled back to himself, blinking.

“How long was I—”

“Never mind,” she said, brow furrowing. “What were you seeing?”

“Nothing that made sense,” he admitted. “At least not yet. Did you...?”

She nodded. “Yes. Come on.” She started walking, trusting him to follow as she wended her way toward an old hole-in-the-wall they’d frequented in another life, back when both had been playing pretend at being anything other than what they really were—or perhaps discovering who they were really meant to be. Tyr fell in behind her, silent, frowning.

“Where are we—?” he stopped himself and shook his head. “Why there?”

“Because at least there I’ll have a chance to get in front of you if you decide to go off fully cocked about something,” she muttered. “And we won’t be reading this in the middle of the Exchange.”

“No, we’ll be tucked away in the Row where we both know that you’re like to become a walking target in that armor.”

“Not where we’re going,” she muttered. “Take a breath, Tyr.”

“How can I when...when we’re still not sure what happened, only that something did.” He kept close as she ducked down a narrow lane that twisted down toward the shadows of Murder Row. “Wyn, please.”

She simply gave him a level look and opened a door mostly hidden behind a tail of cloth and some crates. “In, Tyr. We’ll read it in the old corner and decide what to do about it.”

“Somebody destroyed Dalaran, Wyn,” he whispered as he passed her and ducked through the door, leaving her to follow. “And no one in the city seems to be doing anything about it.”

“Likely to prevent some kind of panic,” she said, shucking a gauntlet as she followed him down the narrow passage. It opened up behind a curtain and into a tiny tavern and inn, one remarkably clean and snug given its locale. Wyn flipped a coin to the barkeep and ushered her friend to a corner where they’d spent more than a few hours in times now long gone. Wordless, Tyr dropped into an overstuffed chair, leaving her to perch on the edge of a low table as she slid her thumb beneath the envelope’s plain seal. The sheaf of papers inside was thick, thick enough to make her heart stutter for a moment in her chest.

What had they gotten their hands on?

The first page was in the familiar scrawl of one of her mother’s oldest contacts, sketching what was known in broad strokes. She read it once, then again, then handed it to Tyr.

“Aethas Sunreaver is among the missing, along with three dozen highly ranked mages,” she said, her voice grave as she started to thumb through the documents—casualty lists, carefully duplicated reports. “No one has solid word on what’s happened—some reports suggest he survived, others say he perished along with most of his host. At least one report suggests that the city was destroyed by some kind of void explosion.”

“Void,” Tyr echoed. “What would—?”

“I don’t know,” she said, still thumbing through the rest of the pages. “But I imagine that the reason why the city doesn’t know anything is because they’re waiting for final word on the archmage and whether or not he’s alive. And deciding what we’re going to do about it.”

“The Spire—”

“Will have opinions. I know. So will the Farstriders and the Order. One way or another, we’ll figure out what’s what.” Her lips thinned as she watched him reading over that first page. “Whoever it was—they more than certainly just wiped out at least half the Kirin Tor, Tyr. And who knows how much magical knowledge and—” she broke off, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Suddenly her thoughts went to Juden, who—if not for pure happenstance and a lack of final decisions made—might have been there. Might have been among a generation of fledging mages devastated by whatever had just occurred.

Tyr grasped her hand and squeezed hard. “I know,” he whispered. “I tried, Wyn. I tried.”

“I know,” she echoed, squeezing back. “All we can do is—is hope. At least for now.”

“And after?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We have...we have other work. But who knows who they’ll call up. Who knows what the response will be.”

“You think there will be one?” he asked, taking the rest of the papers from her and starting to thumb through them slowly. He’d return them to her before they left—she knew that. “That they’ll risk...?”

“I don’t know what it will be, but there will be something,” she said softly. “One way or another, we’re about to send people to war. I just don’t know what it is yet.”

“Nor I,” Tyr said, then sighed. “But as you said. We have our own.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “We do.”

#world of warcraft #wyn ilthyrii #rp #fiction #wyrmrest accord #wow #wra #horde #resolute blades #age of blood #tyrvarden grimstryke #TWW #mild spoilers #The War Within #SMC #Silvermoon City #sin'dorei #blood elves #dalaran reaction

2 notes · View notes

themimsyborogove · 2 years ago

Note

I find myself wondering more and more about the Downworlders, particularly those in the Hell Ruelle - Hypatia, Malcolm, Kellington, Lily Chen, even Magnus - and their perspectives during and post Chain of Thorns. Are you finding the same?

In particular, I’d love to see a scene between Hypatia and Magnus discussing Cordelia’s paladin status, Malcolm’s state of mind post-Cornwall (do they notice anything?) and the impact of Belial’s attack on London. If that spurs any creative sparks? 😊

Sorry, this has been drafted for days, but I haven’t been able to get it cleaned up enough to post until now 💖 I have definitely been wondering about a lot of those things too.

Cordelia asks Hypatia to keep the paladin thing a secret from Magnus, and I think Hypatia would probably honor that. Magnus might find out anyway, but I don’t know if they’d discuss it with each other.

I’m really interested in how Malcolm’s personality change comes across to the other warlocks. When Malcolm is first introduced in TMI, Catarina says something happened to him at the turn of the century and he’s been weird ever since, so they know something happened. And when we’re in Magnus’s POV in RSoM he thinks something about Malcolm’s persona being an act that Malcolm is very good at. I think warlocks just go weird from grief sometimes, so maybe the others just didn’t look to hard at other reasons Malcolm might have gone weird.

Also the main warlock-centric thing I’ve been thinking about since the book came out has been how Ragnor would react to Christopher’s death, and that worked well with this setup (and it fixes the plothole where Ragnor is still high warlock in TBC that got retconned in the newer canon) so I put it in the ficlet too.

——

Magnus pulled open the door of the magic shop, slightly out of breath from his sprint from the closest spot outside of Hypatia’s wards that he was able to Portal to from the Institute. The message Hypatia had sent him was brief, but urgent, and he had rushed out at once.

The bell on the shop door chimed cheerfully, an odd contrast to Hypatia herself, pacing back and forth in front of the counter, clearly agitated, with a letter clutched in her hand.

She looked up at the sound of the bell, and relaxed slightly when she saw that it was him.

“If you’re done with your Shadowhunters, we have a problem.” She waved the letter in her hand at Magnus. “Malcolm is stepping down as High Warlock.“

Magnus wasn’t as surprised as he would have been under normal circumstances. He had seen Malcolm only briefly since they had been able to return to London and start putting right the chaos that had been left behind with the death of Belial. They had only exchanged a few words, but Magnus had noticed that Malcolm had seemed shaken and distracted, his usually well-tailored clothes unkempt, marks of stress and exhaustion on his ageless face.

There had been so much to do—and Malcolm had always been very quiet and private in his grief—the other, louder, problems had taken priority.

Magnus regretted not talking to him sooner, but he could not blame Malcolm for his decision to step down. Magnus knew the story of how the girl Malcolm had once loved had left him to become an Iron Sister, after all, and privately, he suspected that seeing the way Belial had used the bodies of Iron Sisters and Silent Brothers to attack London must have been a shock to Malcolm, even if his love hadn’t been among the Iron Sisters whose bodies had been possessed.

Magnus might have wanted to flee the city under those circumstances as well.

“I think it may be for the best,” Magnus said gently. “Malcolm did not seem well when I spoke to him. I hope a change of scenery helps.”

“I understand why he wants to leave,” Hypatia said, and Magnus saw the same flash of concern he felt for Malcolm on her face as well, “But Magnus, he wants me to take over.”

“I would congratulate you, but you don’t sound pleased by the idea,” Magnus murmured, reaching for her. Hypatia let him pull her into an embrace.

“I can’t do it,” she said into his shoulder, letting the regal and perfectly in control persona she liked to project down just a little bit. “I don’t have the experience, and it would ruin my business.” She pulled back a little so she could look up at his face. “I need you to ask Ragnor Fell to come back, at least until all the mess is sorted out. He knows the High Warlock duties better than anyone currently in London. And he’ll listen to you.”

It seemed unfair to call Ragnor back from his own vacation—especially after he had already interrupted it once to come to Idris to help with the ultimately futile effort to open a Portal to London while it had been under Belial’s control— but Magnus found it very hard to say no to Hypatia’s pleading eyes.

“I’ll ask him,” he said, earning him the smile that made the stars in her eyes twinkle, just for him. Combined with the deep navy dress she was wearing, he felt like he held the entire night sky in his arms, glittering and beautiful.

And that was how Magnus Bane found himself in Capri, walking up the sunny hillside to Ragnor’s villa, which overlooked the deep blue waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea.

He found Ragnor already standing in the doorway, with his arms crossed.

“I see you were expecting me,” Magnus smiled at his old friend.

Ragnor scowled back. “I had an ominous feeling that trouble was approaching.”

“You saw me walking up the hill from your window.”

“I saw you walking up the hill from my window,” Ragnor confirmed. He sighed and stood aside to let Magnus in. “Well, out with it then. What bad news have you brought me?”

“Malcolm has stepped down as High Warlock,” Magnus said. He briefly considered telling Ragnor his suspicion that seeing the possessed Iron Sisters had been too much for Malcolm to bear, but he wasn’t sure it was his business to share. “With the state of things in London, the warlocks desperately need a leader who already knows what they’re doing, and who the Shadowhunters already trust,” he said instead.

“Absolutely not,” Ragnor said. “I was in Idris when exploding messages began to appear all around us, and I was unsurprised to hear the name Christopher Lightwood tied to them. One nearly set my sleeve on fire, Magnus! I want no part in whatever madness Christopher Lightwood is currently unleashing, I refuse to return to London as long as that menace—“

“Ragnor!” Magnus interrupted loudly before his friend could get going on his usual rant, and stick his entire foot in his mouth in the process. “Did you not hear? Christopher Lightwood was killed during Belial’s invasion. The London Shadowhunters brought his body with them when they evacuated London.”

Ragnor gaped at him, momentarily stunned, a brief expression of horror crossing his face before he got it under control. “I didn’t know,” he said at last. “I wasn’t called until after the London enclave had already appeared in Idris, and they only spoke to me about the Portals. I’m sorry to hear he was killed.”

Magnus must have look unconvinced because Ragnor sighed and ran a hand through his snowy hair. “I didn’t like the boy, but I didn’t wish any harm upon him,” he muttered guiltily. “Nor did I wish that grief upon his parents or his sister.”

Ragnor had gotten along rather well with Anna Lightwood, Magnus knew from his conversations with Anna—what felt like ages ago now, when things in London had been calmer. Or rather well for Ragnor at least, which meant he generally tolerated her.

Ragnor sighed again. “I’ll return to London and help sort out the mess then. But I don’t intend to stay, and I expect you to help me find a new High Warlock to replace me as soon as possible.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Magnus said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. It seemed like all any of them could do.

#magnus bane #ragnor fell #hypatia vex #malcolm fade #chot spoilers #chain of thorns #chain of thorns spoilers #tlh #the last hours #tlh spoilers #fic prompt

34 notes · View notes

skyloftian-nutcase · 2 years ago

Note

Do you think you could write a snippet, for any of your fics?

Have multiple snippets! Guess which each is from!

.....

This felt like his past, like the painful ache of everyone he’d known before the Calamity haunting him. He didn’t know their circumstances, he didn’t know what had happened to them, he’d barely been able to start piecing it together. He’d barely even resolved to try to piece it together, stories and people from another life a century ago gnawing steadily at his sanity.

But Sky wasn’t a phantom from a past he couldn’t remember. Sky was a part of his life now, and he was terrified he’d become another lost Champion, another piece of his life that just vanished into thin air with no explanation, no closure, nothing.

Wild hugged himself a little, feeling ice cold and alone. Goddess, he hoped Sky was okay. He wanted to get up and look for him now. The sunlight was beginning to make the horizon glow, and he shot to his feet to wake the others. He doubted they’d mind the early start.

A bush rustled and snapped, and Wild grabbed his bow and arrows in a heartbeat, yelling, “Everybody up!”

Snores and yelps sounded around the camp, and a figure shot out of the bushes with its hands held high in the air, eyes wide and terrified.

“Easy!” the figure said shakily, and Wild recognized the skinny, muscular physique and voice after a few seconds of confusion. The postman took a steadying breath as Wild lowered his arrow while others scrambled for weapons and then froze in bewilderment. “I have a letter for a Mr. Rusl, I’m just passing through to get to Ordon.”

Legend dropped his sword to throw his hands in the air. “Do you ever sleep?!”

........

“Is that why you sell my stuff?”

“One does have to make a living—”

“You have a job, Ravio.”

“B-but what if it isn’t enough, you know I need comforts and the world can be so unpredictable and scary—”

Legend’s phone buzzed again. Sighing even more heavily than last time, Legend snatched the blasted object to put it on do not disturb when his eyes caught some of the words in the texts.

—help and I don’t know what—

Furrowing his brow, the travel nurse unlocked his phone to read the messages fully.

hey need a a favor wellaact ually actually maybe more of yeah I need a favor look I might be a liytle tipsyandd cant drive ok hang on swearica n type ha stnadby Ok. Typing slow. Need a drive. Ride Whatever I can’t drive myself an I need help and I don’t know what else to do Don’t want Wind to see me like this pls

Legend stared at the mess of texts. He… what? Why was Warriors drunk texting him of all people? He typed, Can’t you call Time? Or Sky?

Time would fuss Sky would worry Pls Ledge?

Legend frowned. You think I won’t fuss?

You alwayssfuss

His ire flared. I do not!!

LEDGE RIDE PLS

This night couldn’t get any worse. UGH FINE YOU MORON JUST TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE

......

His mouth became a thin line. “And I… I screwed it all up. I cursed everything, everyone. I cursed them.”

“Link,” Zelda said, caught off guard. She was struggling to understand how Demise had survived as well, but she wasn’t blaming either of them for it as he seemed to be. His worries were clearly eating him alive.

“Don’t,” Link immediately hissed, growing stormy. “Don’t even try it. You did everything right, you did your part, you trusted me to finish things and I didn’t.”

“What are you talking about?” Zelda asked, putting a hand to his cheek. “Link, you defeated him. We had no way of knowing—”

“I did,” Link spat, pulling out of her reach and turning away, his hands shaking as he clenched his fists. His shoulders hunched and his entire body was so tense it was ready to snap. “He said it himself. I thought—I was such a fool, Zelda, I—I thought—he started speaking about how his hatred would follow my spirit and your bloodline, and it sounded like the dying words of a monster, I—I didn’t realize it was a curse, that he was—I didn’t—I d-didn’t—”

Link’s body stiffened even further as shuddering gasps and hiccups interrupted his words, and he bowed his head, hugging himself. Zelda immediately rushed around him to face him fully once more, dragging him into the tightest hug she could muster, willing all of her love into it.

“You had no way of knowing,” she repeated as she processed what he’d said. “And who’s to say it was a curse right in that moment? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have happened whether he spoke it or not? Who’s to say there was any stopping it? Link, I was a goddess. I was a goddess and I couldn’t stop him. You did everything you were meant to do – you solved the puzzles, you tempered the Goddess Sword and made it into the Blade of Evil’s Bane, you traveled through time, you got the Triforce and used it to kill him. You beat him. It was Ghirahim who screwed everything up.”

#you ask skye answers #lovely anon #writing #also since this is the only way I can communicate this to everyone:#I JUST WATCHED THE MOST RECENT EPISODE OF HERO'S PURPOSE BY MAJORLINK #AND I AM S C R E A M I N G

24 notes · View notes

julietpricee · 1 year ago

Text

Day 4 - Sharpuary (Fire Whiskey)

Very proud of this story (it might actually be my favourite) so I hope you all enjoy it!

TW - Alcohol abuse (Set in modern day)

“Hi… I’m Aesop and… I’m an alcoholic.”

“Hi Aesop.” the crowd mumbles back.

Aesop sat in a wide circle, hunched over in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The fluorescent lights beamed down at him, highlighting the dark circles prominent under his eyes. His right knee bounced up and down nervously, distracting from his shaking hands that gripped a paper cup full of bitter coffee.

“Aesop. You’ve been coming here for a few weeks now and we’re yet to hear your story. Do you feel comfortable sharing?” Stacy asked softly.

Aesop didn’t mind Stacy. He thought she asked too many questions, but that was just part of her job. In his eyes, she was unfortunately past her prime, but still rather good-looking. In normal circumstances, they’d have known each other far more intimately.

Aesop stared into his coffee, watching the ripples as he tapped the side of the cup.

A year ago he’d have pursued her but instead, here he sat, letting her poke and prod into his personal life, in front of an audience of muggles. He kept convincing himself that it wasn’t worth sharing his story, since a group of muggles would never be able to understand it, but it was his choice to come here. The truth is, he was ashamed of admitting his story to any wizard, so here he was instead.

“Aesop?” Stacy continued. “This is a safe space, and we are all here to help you through this.”

Aesop finally looked up, casting his eyes across the gloomy faces that surrounded him. “Ok.” He finally replied. “I’ll share.” He took a swig of coffee to moisten his throat before taking a deep breath to ready himself. “I’m not sure where to start…”

“Why don’t you tell us what brought you here?” Stacy enquired.

Aesop's mind cast back to the awful events that led him to this point.

It was just past midday and his close friend Dinah had decided to check up on him during her lunch break, using the key his parents had given her to let herself in. A few weeks before, the three of them had sat Aesop down to try and convince him to move back in with his parents whilst he got back on his feet, but Aesop outright refused.

She struggled to navigate around the dark house, dodging the assortment of rubbish, clothes and empty bottles that littered every inch of the floor. She wasted no time pulling open the curtains letting an offensive amount of light beam over Aesop. He was sprawled over the sofa, dressed only in his boxers, finishing off a bottle of Fire Whiskey that he had opened the night before.

“I drink too much,” Aesop joked, shaking away his memories. “I thought that part was fairly obvious.” A few chuckles broke out amongst the group, but his constant use of deflective humour didn’t amuse Stacy.

“Please, Aesop. Why are you here?”

“You look like shit” Dinah bit at him.

Aesop grumbled as he took another sip of his Fire Whiskey, letting a questionable amount dribble through his unkempt beard.

“When was the last time you ate? You’re tiny Aesop… And the bags under your eyes. When was the last time you slept?”

Aesop attempted to throw the empty glass bottle at her but he was far too weak so it simply fell to the ground. Dinah let out a defeated sigh, trying to hold back her tears.

“You need help, Aesop.”

Aesop swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “My friend actually told me to come here. I didn’t think my drinking was an issue but she disagreed.” He scoffed, shaking his head softly as he thought of his dear friend Dinah.

“You said you ‘didn’t’ think your drinking was an issue, Aesop. Does that mean you agree with her now?” Stacey pushed.

“Just fuck off Dinah!” He screamed at her. Forgetting about his newly injured leg, Aesop attempted to stand and instantly fell back down in agony as a sharp, shooting pain flared from the sole of his foot straight up to his hip. “I don’t need help, I need another drink.”

“Yes,” Aesop admitted. “I can see now how it was an issue.” He took another swig of his coffee, wishing it took the edge off like Fire Whiskey did. “I was a…” he quickly tried to recall a muggle job similar to being an Auror, “a police officer and I had an accident at work.” He stretched his leg out, rubbing just above his knee as he did so. “I didn’t drink before the accident, but the drink helped me through it.”

The group was respectfully silent as Aesop spoke but the silence only made him feel more vulnerable.

With a few flicks of her wand, Dinah cleared the floor of rubbish and folded his clothes into a neat pile. She sat down next to him taking his hand in hers, looking over his face with concern. She was met with anger and fury from Aesop.

“Don’t pity me.” He spat at her.

“Aesop, I’ll stop pitying you when you stop pitying yourself.”

“I’m not pitying myself, Dinah… I’m punishing myself.”

“You’re not the only one who has used alcohol as a coping mechanism, it’s quite common, but you need to understand that it in no way would have helped you,” Stacy explained.

Aesop chuckled.”Looking back, yes, you’re probably right. But when I sat on my own every night, in pain from the accident, feeling guilty and like I couldn’t do anything right, the drink was the only thing that stopped the pain.”

Brian, the chubby bald man who always sucked up to Stacy, raised his hand. Stacy nodded, encouraging him to speak. “I just wanted to say that I felt the same way when I first came here but Stacy helped me to find better coping mechanisms than drinking and I’m sure she can do the same for you.”

‘Fuck off Brian’ is what Aesop wanted to say but “Thanks Brian” is what thankfully came out.

“The only person you’re punishing Aesop is me. It’s killing me to see you like this and I need you to snap out of it.” Dinah shouted.

“What’s the point, Dinah?” Aesop choked on his words and burst into a deep sob. “I had it all. I was successful, I had my dream job, top of my game and now look at me.” Tears streamed down his face as he dribbled out his words and half-heartedly wiped the snot from his nose. “How did it all go so wrong Dinah?”

“Brian is right, we can brainstorm some healthy coping mechanisms for you, but first, I’d like to hear more about your friend. What did she say to make you change your ways?” Stacy leant forward in her seat, obviously enjoying hearing the lowest point in Aesop's life.

Dinah wrapped her arms around Aesop cradling him as he screamed and wept for what felt like an eternity. Once he calmed, she stroked his long greasy hair out of his face and held both of his cheeks so he could look straight into her eyes. He looked so ill and could barely look at her from a mixture of shame and inebriation.

“You know Aesop, when I look back at your success, I don't think about how many miles you walked during your investigations, I don't think about how fast you were when you chased the bad guys down, I don’t even think about the wild chases you were a part of when the bad guys tried to escape. What I do think about, is what’s up here.” She tapped his head gently. “That big brain of yours. I think about you always achieving the highest marks in the class, I think about how quickly you figured out what others couldn’t, I think about that wit and charm you’ve always had,” she chuckled, letting a tear roll down her cheek. “I think about you Aesop, I think about everything that makes you, you. Your leg is going to hinder you and make you less abled but it will not change you, Aesop.” She quickly wiped away the tear and removed her hands from his face. “So stop feeling sorry for yourself and go take a shower, you stink!” She joked, making Aesop chuckle.

Aesop wiped a subtle tear from the corner of his eye. “She’s always been real with me, you know, told me exactly how it is and I’ve always appreciated that. I think after the accident everyone gave me a free pass. They let me slack and get drunk because they pitied me… but she didn’t. She called me out for it and admittedly, for a while, I hated her because of it, but that’s only because I knew everything she was saying was true.”

“She sounds like a wonderful lady,” Stacy smiled at Aesop. “It’s a great thing to have people close to you in times like this, especially when they have your best interests at heart.”

Aesop finished the last of his coffee and smiled to himself reflecting on how lucky he was to have a close friend like Dinah.

“Look at you all showered and shaved” Dinah called out as Aesop cautiously made his way back into the lounge. “You look like a new man.”

Aesop smiled weakly at her, feeling rather ashamed of himself as he started to sober up. He sat back down on the sofa conjuring a glass of water which he quickly downed. Dinah sat back down next to him.

“How do you feel?” She asked him. Aesop just nodded softly, unable to produce any words without bursting into tears again. “They’re advertising for a new potions master at Hogwarts… I think you’d be a great candidate for it.”

“My friend encouraged me to move on with my life and the first step to doing that was to come here,” Aesop revealed. “I’ve never understood these groups in all honesty, it feels so backwards revealing my most vulnerable moments to a group of strangers… but I suppose it’s a better scenario than not following her wishes.” He chuckled to himself.

Aesop looked at Dinah with a newfound hope in his eyes. He didn’t want to start again in a new role, he wanted his old job back… but he knew that was never going to happen.

“I think I’d like that.” He finally announced.

“Good because I’ve already put your name forward and your interview is next week. That should be plenty of time to sort yourself out.” She patted his leg playfully.

Aesop rolled his eyes at her but a thankful smile spread across his face.

Aesop looked back up at the group after staring into his empty coffee cup for a few moments.

“I start my new job tomorrow and I actually feel really good about it. It’ll be a new start and a clean slate, which is exactly what I need.”

“That’s great Aesop” Stacy cheered, inviting the whole group to applaud him.

He turned a bright shade of red but felt a warmth grow in his chest. “I’m just so thankful that my friend was able to give me the wake-up call I needed. She cleaned up my life and was the one to help me get this job.” He paused, once again reflecting on the awful events that led him to this point. “She saved my life…” He let out a small chuckle. “She saved my life and all she asks in return is that I stay sober… so, that is why I’m here.”

Alcoholics Anonymous website for anyone who needs it: https://www.aa.org/

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53448181/chapters/135341842

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #professor sharp #aesop sharp #professor aesop sharp #daddy sharp #hogwarts #sharpuary 2024 #sharpuary #fire whiskey

6 notes · View notes

bestcurse · 9 months ago

Text

miller doesn’t know how much time has passed since the incident in the kitchen— whether it’s been an hour, or more; time seemed to have passed him, meddling with his understanding of it, ever since their lips pressed against one another’s. it hadn’t been a long kiss, no, but it reminded him of everything he’d tried to suppress, over the years they’ve been distant, in each others lives. it’s funny to him, now, that he’d forgotten what a kiss like that could make him feel— so fucking alive, and wanted. a kiss like that, which had his lips tingling in the aftermath, his stomach aflutter to the point where it now feels unsettling. though, seeing her run off in the way she did, even if he understood why, he wonders if that’s the reasoning behind the ill feeling that washes over him, once he’s by himself, again. no longer carried away in a moment of time with her, caught up in everything they lost, everything that was still there, circulating between them. but, the more he secludes himself from it, from her, the more the guilt catches up with him, gnawing at his insides. it’s as if it’s written all across his features, as if he’s got a neon, glowing sign above his head that tells everyone he’s fucked up, that he’s done something he really shouldn’t have, considering their current circumstances. worse than that, he feels guilty that he doesn’t regret kissing devon. how could he, when it’s the only thing he’s been thinking of, since they arrived here, this weekend? when it’s something he thinks of, no matter if he’s in his bed alone, or the shape of eden’s body is the one that warms his side. no matter the inner turmoil he’s facing, miller knows it’s best for him to deal with it alone. that’s why he finds himself out in the living area, once everyone’s staggered off to bed for the night, book in his hand, eyes skimming the words on the page, but not really retaining any of it. he can’t, not really, not when his mind continues to replay that kiss they’d shared, how she’d looked up at him, paused right against him, before whisking fletcher away from the crime scene. in fact, he’s so caught up in thinking about it, in all the associated feelings that come with it, both good and bad, that he barely notices when someone joins him. but, as his head lifts, and his eyes find hers, he feels the tension rush over him unexpectedly. “ done enough damage control, then? ” there’s a small bite to his tone, one that he doesn’t have much control of, despite his best efforts to do so. his gaze is shifty, not able to hold hers, as he shifts his positioning on the couch, book grasped tightly in his hand, as a low chuckle departs his lips. “ i mean, my life isn’t at risk or anything, is it? ”

it’s easy to forget this technically wasn’t allowed, that they weren’t supposed to want one another like this, or refrain from acting on it, at least. but she should have known that whatever boundary lines they tried to draw and enforce wouldn’t stay intact, considering the strength of that magnet between them, constantly pulling them closer and closer together even when they tried to remain apart. it’s inevitable, unstoppable, like a force of nature— just as you couldn’t stop a tornado or an earthquake, you couldn’t stop them. and right now, devon can’t seem to find it within her to care about whether it was right or wrong— she’s yearned for this long enough, endured sleepless nights and fitful dreams of only him just to be this close again, to feel the softness of his skin beneath her fingertips. it was risky, though, considering anyone could walk in here at any moment and catch them like this, looking at each other as if nothing else existed. and if she thought she was already fucked, she enters an entirely new dimension the second his hand moves to lay against the warmth of her thigh. head tilts foward to glance at it, as his fingers gently squeeze at her flesh, needing to see that it was real, that she wasn’t just imagining it, like she had, so many nights in the past. her entire body’s alight, electric, sparks shooting up her legs, her spine, heart rate increasing in time with how he moves closer, now only inches apart. “ i can’t forget any of it, either. how you kiss me, how you touch me, how you make me feel, ” she whispers, her hand finding its place against the side of his face, then, cradling his jaw. “ i can’t forget, but you know… i think i could use a refresher, maybe, yeah ? for both of us. ” she’s looking at him through hooded lids, then, gaze flickering back and forth between his eyes and his lips, finding it too difficult to hold back any longer, not when they’re this close, when their equally shallow breath could easily become one. and that’s just what she sets out to do, pushing herself forward just as she pulls him in until there’s no distance remaining, lips melding against his for the first time in a long time. it’s an indescribable feeling, realizing this is what it was always supposed to feel like— fireworks, butterflies, electricity, all flowing through her veins, her brain, her stomach. utter happiness, bliss. unfortunately, it doesn’t last for long, only a few seconds before she hears a familiar voice approaching from down the hall, calling her name. sets off an alarm inside of her that forces her to pull away, breathless and aching, unhappy that it had to end so soon, before it even really began. “ shit, ” she breathes, suddenly dizzy with wondering how they got here, how she let herself get so carried away so quickly. as much as she doesn’t want to, they have to put distance between each other, which is why she’s sliding down from her perch, wedging herself between him and the counter. can’t help but pause, then, to feel him pressed closely against her, inhaling a shaky breath as she imparts one last longing glance and a soft apolog. launches herself to the opposite side of the kitchen just as fletcher pushes open the door in search of her, distracting him with some mundane excuse as she quickly leads him away, hopeful he doesn’t notice the flush of her cheeks or the tremble of unresolved need in her hands, and that miller doesn't hate her, for the whirlwind that just occurred.

#interactions / miller banks.#bluestdays #this is….. so very not good.. good luck with that x

49 notes · View notes

ericleo108 · 2 years ago

Audio

04/14/2023 Click here for Spotify, Apple Music, or Youtube playlist. What Now is my 39th official release and is a 6-track EP. You should be able to buy a CD of this from Amazon for around $5. This EP is about the rap game and my opinion on artists in the industry. I’m going to talk about each track in order and then list the lyrics in order below. All the tracks were self-recorded but mixed and mastered by KeyAno. The beats are all by Kylo got beats and the cover art is from Gigzlogo from Fiverr. I spent under $100 on this entire project.

You can see me talk about this blog post from last Sunday Update here:

youtube

Paliperidone

I wanted to make the first two track on this EP positive and about spreading love. I have learned and made more money just by following and listening to LaRussell. I just wanna say content is not king, or at least doesn’t help you grow on social media. I release once a week and do a word of the day rhyme every day and I’ve seen little growth. I basically feel like no one cares.

That’s probably just where I live though. I recently received my first large royalty payment from ASCAP. Before that I was making little to no money and was basically doing all this for no money/return. I make the majority of my money from outside the United States. I have yet to break even and am still a long way away. The second verse is in reference to Lupe Fiasco’s “Drill music in Zion” which is also referenced in other songs like the last verse of “Had Enough.”

Square dance

The premise of this song is based on Eminem’s song “Square Dance.” Throughout this entire EP if I mention them I basically bite their lyrics/style a little, less with the people I dislike. This is a track to provoke a response and show some love to underground rappers that I like. Like I say, it’s all love in this track.

Patrick CC is a YouTuber and rap executive producer that has a couple main channels that do well. He makes a lot of hiphop music related content that I always enjoy and watch. Crackhouse recordings is now closed, I think their lease ran out in the building they were in and they haven’t reopened yet. Contact Cracka Lack and tell him you want the studio back! TheyCallMeHeat (pictured below) is my favorite producer at crack house and he’s made me a bunch of beats for my songs. They had a TV at the studio, so you could technically have watched Patrick cc while you record your hiphop song.

I get the majority of my beats from Tantu. Sam peters is my producer at La Luna recording studio in Kalamazoo Michigan. And KeyAno has become my main producer who I also buy a lot of beats from. Headband Henny is a burgeoning artist in Kalamazoo, Michigan, that I found on Instagram and have had the pleasure to meet. I have a song feature Henny in the works. He is part of the Kalamazoo artist collective Caged Lotus. Cody Redd is a female artist I know from TikTok, and I like her music.

First of all, I hope I said Kharii’s name right. She seems to be “finding herself” on vacation. I hope she doesn’t quit music. I’m hoping to pay for a feature. The hook seems relevant in this circumstance. It’s times like these I think it’s Gaia‘a influence guiding me. But I really wrote this because of something similar to what Cracka Lack said in his ig story one day, which was “10 months later 95% of artists aren’t still making music.” I just wanted to encourage the artists in this song to continue. I’m a fan of Ekoh’s heart hop and Gibson is a local artist to Michigan that I’ve met and like.

Rap intelligence

I love Ged GaTa. This song is an act directed at actors. I figure if anyone could understand my approach I’d be Price and Glover. I intentionally directed fake outrage at them for a couple reasons. They’re actors, I like them, they’re really talented, they seem like gentleman, and seems they’d probably understand, see through the temperament, and might actually create a worthy response.

WTF bruh

Unlike “Rap Intelligence” which is just an act, I can’t stand Tom McDonald. I can’t tell if he believes all the bullshit he spews and is duped by Fox News and the republicans or if he is just pandering to radicals because it’s a an easy market to sell-to because he’s definitely pandering to ignorance and white supremacy with his work. I basically feel the same way as Anthony fantano.

youtube

The lyrics about Samson being divisive comes from a YouTube video response I made about one of Samsons videos (as seen above). I put Samson into the same category as Tom but I could see how Samson is just an idiot and actually thinks Joe is to blame for high gas prices or that guns would protect schools. Unlike Tom who does it for clout, I think Samson might actually be noble but just wrong in his pursuits.

Calhoun is clearly a white supremist by proxy and disposition. He believes Fox News and the republicans. What makes it worse is his ego and toxic hyper masculinity. He’s the kind of person that thinks violence solves problems and guns protect people. Calhoun also thinks he’s morally and intellectually superior. Basically he’s wrong, doesn’t care he’s ignorant, and is aggressive about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was beaten as a child.

I intentionally try not and look into these characters. I don’t want to give them more attention. They deserve to be ignored and laughed at if encountered. I listened to their music enough to know it’s poppycock and to formulate an opinion but it’s not like I know thier life story, or care. I think the world would be a better place if they quit, but they’re too narcissistic for that, so I might as well leverage their stupidity to make fun of them in my own music.

Tom is an idiot’s savant, and a idiot savant. I can see why stupid people like his music. He seems to be mad at the system but the arguments he makes don’t make sense and/or are just mostly republicans taking points with no real validity. So he seems really smart to the ignorant and duped.

I talk about this in my American inequality post you can find at FarmingHumans.com or by watching this playlist, but in short, corporate CEO’s rule America. They create and sponsor congressional appointments through lobby money they get from their corporation. Don’t take my word for it, read the leading researchers book in America, called “Who Rules America“ by William G Domhoff. In addition, I will say, in short, all the problems we are seeing with anti lgbtq, banning books, opposition to global warming initiatives, and mass shootings are all coming from the groups alliance defending freedom (ADF) and council for national policy (CNP) who are a Christian fascist extremist hate group that is lobbying the government and winning to turn America into a Christofacist theocracy.

To their followers, Calhoun, Samson, and Tom are the new Christian rap holy Trinity where you have to be an idiot and or Christian to like their music and think it’s actually good. Christians are turning Jesus into a nazi here in America. I would personally like to see real Christians stand up to this nonsense, but if they did that and thought for themselves, they probably wouldn’t be Christian

So Far off

Unlike the last song which is aimed at people I think are intentionally destroying America, I think Chris is just ignorant. I think Webby means well and is a nice guy but he’s literally illiterate when it comes to understanding the facts. What’s worse is he pushes and promotes that stupidity upon the just as ignorant and influential public.

youtube

I did a break down of Lupe and Webby’s call about the vaccine (above). Webby is clearly having an emotional reaction. He feels attacked in the call but it’s really because he doesn’t have any answers to the vital questions Lupe has in understanding the importance of the vaccine. Webby’s also clearly using conservatives taking points.

Look Webby is entitled to his opinion, but it’s wrong and he’s profiting off demeaning public health and medical professionals so I didn’t really hold back on him. Like I say in the song, he’s perfectly free to be an idiot. I’m not saying I agree with all the lock down measures. Stupid People should be free to kill themselves but the vaccine is safe and effective and he talks about it like he actually understands words.

I’m not gay, but I’d fake sucking a dick for clout to make a homophobe uncomfortable and regret his decisions. To be clear, I DO NOT condone violence period or against Congress members. What I’m talking about in the song would have to be self-inflicted. I do however think certain Congress persons self inflicted demise, whether physically or politically/influentially would make America and the world a better place.

Had enough

I miss Immortal Technique. Immortal’s presentation is a conspiracy but it’s still more accurate then the idiots addressed in “WTF Bruh.” I have no real problem with the island boys. I’m basically piling on and misdirecting my anger at the songs subject of mass shootings onto them for attention and clout. The last two disses were justified, this one isn’t.

I hope the island boys get their money and have a good life. Don’t get me wrong, they’re clowns, but that doesn’t mean I wish them any ill will. I did say “my bad.” But they could graduate to clowns that are wrong and helping to dismantle democracy and public health like Tom or Chris (respectively) and then I would mean it. I’m normally a really nice guy, but I’m not nice to those who are oppressive and discriminatory. I want people to know I can be a huge dick for the right cause, and rap encourages ego, bravado, confrontation, and competition.

Lyrics:

Paliparadone

Yeah, yeah, yeah Paliparadone up in my blood Just so I can show you love Get you some, help you up Cuz the dream is gonna come Paliparadone up in my blood Just so I can show you love Get you some, help you up Cuz the dream is gonna come

Just giving you ideas About how to spread some cheer Know yourself, control fear Earn respect from your peers Tell them what you learned from the struggle Play it cool, make the drum roll Tell the truth and they’ll love ya Is what I learned from La Russell (salute) I’m a grad, I’m grinding Get the bag, tame the violence Take reason, insight it Be real and define it Take the star and align them In your mind to alignments That seek to assign them To the continuum time shift It don’t matter how good your pen is It’s all about marketing, and how you present it Don’t like that statement, prove me wrong I 30 sum songs in my catalog They want it polished, packaged And available for free But get paid 50 cents for a hundred stream And then they wonder why I can’t afford to eat So Buy the track if you want to support me (please) 10s, 20s, 50s, 100s Add it all up is what I pay for production Per track and I ain’t fronting I put in the work but don’t make no money The proof is in the pudding, and I don’t make shit I put in the work, but no one shares what I give I’m thankful for everyone who listens to this But can’t wait for the day people actually give a shit

I’m illin don’t you know I’m killing every show I loop greats into my flow Like Lupe Fiasco I can’t stand it here… it’s the smell … You gotta learn, that’s how to take the L (think) Wait, hold up, I’m getting signals from the source (what) Gaia’s force of magnetic recourse My retina in need Of something beautiful to see The meta message in between Are such precious things I don’t drink, unless it’s just a beer And unless it’s weed, I don’t inhale You can’t suceed, unless you fail Rewrite the story and here’s the tale Rappers die to much It’s just designed to crush Another life from drugs Why can’t we find the love Rappers die to much It’s just designed to crush Another life from guns Why can’t we find the love

Paliparadone up in my blood Just so I can show you love Get you some, help you up Cuz the dream is gonna come Just giving you ideas About how to spread some cheer Know yourself, control fear Earn respect from your peers Paliparadone up in my blood Just so I can show you love Get you some, help you up Cuz the dream is gonna come Just giving you ideas About how to spread some cheer Know yourself, control fear Earn respect from your peers

Square dance

It’s all cool, it’s all fun I just wanna get you sum Shine the light and get some sun Its all good, it’s all love This that underground doe-see-doe How you gonna do me yo Whip me up a flurry, cold Music that is lyrical Don’t just stay By the wall or leave As Eminem would say Square dance with me

Get comfy, make some tea Watched some Patrick CC At Crack House Recordings with TheyCallMeHeat I’m rapping like a free Tantu on beat Sam peters on the keys Or KeyAno make’n Heat From Ann Arbor to Lansing to Kalamazoo I bless mics across Michigan indie artist in que Here I go, for the family like Headband Henny I gotta Caged Lotus for the ones that’s friendly Cunnilingus in my head, wanna get her into bed Bon appetit, I feel like Coey Red It takes dedication, love and patients But I like my women like my juice, naked Cuz I roll with that G That wrote “Magnetik Kween” Play yourself some Kharii And set yourself free Play her loops at the party loud It’s coo uh oo coming out her mouth

Like magic and card shops I love that heart hop I’m just a vessel Can you hear that Ekoh I take lyrics, develop them Change what they represent Interpolate the meta gist So they sound irreverent Imma get on top and make sure all y’all eat Make them all wanna spot, and salute to the king So when you see me, just know it’s all gravy Hold me down, say hey, and maybe thank me With a feature swap, play my chips with gwap Thermally I’ll leave you shocked Cuz verses are cold (brrr) but hooks are hot (ah) And I might put you on the spot It’s all cool, it’s all fun I just wanna get you sum Shine the light and get some sun

Its all good, it’s all love This that underground doe-see-doe How you gonna do me yo Whip me up a flurry, cold Music that is lyrical Don’t just stay By The wall or leave As Eminem would say Square dance with me

You don’t need a big name For me to respond to what you’re sayin Just make good music, that makes me think while I’m pacing Never give up, do it for your health Put in the work, accumulate your wealth Been learning social psychology and taking steps To find inside that I’ve been looking for myself Thanks Gibson I want Justice, not a deal For cats to keep it real Rap it to heal Instead of acting out of fear Got a premium cadence Soon they’ll be saying I’m on that, I’m on that, I’m on that, yo what now

Rap Intelligence

Like Russ teach me your ways Put me on game Don’t leave me to dig my own grave I don’t make excuses I focus on the tool kit Creating a rubric And making that new shit Think you’re hot when you rock Yo you better check-up What you got, peep the ops Yo you better check-up I’m grinding every day getting educated daily And gettin every dollar cuz gata taught me plainly Think you’re hot when you rock Yo you better check-up What you got, peep the ops Yo you better check-up I’m grinding every day getting educated daily And gettin every dollar cuz gata taught me plainly

Just to get my numbers up I’mma call your number up Tell you what you're on is dumb If you don’t do it for love That love-hate relationship That bravery and indignant tip Redirected from indigenous On to rap intelligence Just to get my numbers up I’mma call your number up Tell you what you're on is dumb If you don’t do it for love That love-hate relationship That bravery and indignant tip Redirected from indigenous On to rap intelligence

Lookie there a don But I bet these pussies won’t respond They don’t know how to compliment while pissing me off So I Watch the world spinnin listenin to Conner Price Clean cut, release sus, I wanna see him bite It’s like hearing Steve Martin rap, rant and gripe So prim and proper I bet he actually tries To be a better person, someone you could learn from Derive purpose from his verses as a wordsmith Am I supposed be smitten? From his egregious penmanship Chizzled jawline And meticulous sentences (well I am) His beautiful family I bet he’s kind and understanding What an ass, to make the rest of us look pandering

Price is like Donald Glover A good father and husband The kind of man whose duck I’d suck If it meant saving kids in America from guns Come on Donald, what if it was like Atalanta In the back of the van and Darius put hands on ya Saying if we learned to love and be real with ourselves We could build a new society where our people could excel And construct a reflection in the stories that we tell Naw, better stick to beefing I’d rather see you six feet deep and grieving Cuz that’s the culture America is repeating Welcome to America, we hope you don’t see it That the runaway slave patrol is now the police But instead, deny history and claim woke is a disease The schools are closed Prisons are open Ever since MAGA has come into focus

WTF Bruh

Look, I can’t really let this shit fly, so I’m your calm sedate academic type I don’t want to throw down and have a fight I wanna use my words to show I’m right And laugh at how you frivolously try To get it right, make it tight And ingratiate the melody So you’re wrong and offbeat Is what you’re telling me You’d rather kill me cuz your inferiority Is culminating obsessively and cultivating jealousy (Oh My God) Tom McDonald it’s a shock rapper He makes fun of the system, politicians, and actors He only has so long to live before the Illuminati caps him Is what idiots say and hip-hop moves backwards That song propaganda with Dax was terrible You played to the most ignorant and vulnerable Tom thinks elections aren’t done fairly He’s above indoctrination and thinks journalism’s scary

What the fuck brah You’re not the truth dawg You make it worse y’all Support what’s gone wrong Don’t make things worse I wish you’d actually learn Heal what is hurt And give what you earn

You're not on my level g I have my integrity I’m a whole other pedigree And rap it pedagogically Like self-interested CEOs rule They want you to think it’s a conspiracy So you won’t act legitimate Just vote your interests please What will it take you to see Republicans are terrorist Who causes most of terrorism In America is extremist right They solve their problems with violence Because they’ve been taught it as a child They’ve been beaten, so repeat the cycle Rappers blaming Joe for high gas prices Should really analyze the word divisive Cuz they paint a false narrative about devices Like OPEC that colludes on the size of it We are now stupider for MacDonald and Samson Will someone please teach them common sense manners They’ve been acting real funny since we turned on the cameras I think they’re acting like this for the attention of radicals

What the fuck brah You’re not the truth dawg You make it worse y’all Support what’s gone wrong Don’t make things worse I wish you’d actually learn Heal what is hurt And give what you earn

Take Calhoun, Samson, and Tom McDonald And tell me, what do they all have in common? They’re perfectly free to say what they want in a song Which means they’re also free to be totally wrong They say what they want, and don’t make sense Get it all wrong, and wonder why we’re pissed Imagine that, idiots can rap I should say uneducated but it’s really something bad If you’re not talking about laws and how money controls things You’re not talking about the way things are functioning You have to know you’re a distraction A public detractor, that really not a factor All you are is a rapper Live long and prosper Find some love to foster Build a lot of wealth And actually educate yourself Cuz

What the fuck brah You’re not the truth dawg You make it worse y’all Support what’s gone wrong Don’t make things worse I wish you’d actually learn Heal what is hurt And give what you earn

So Far Off

Maybe it’s time for these rappers To get a dose of their own medicine Ayo, check it What, who want it, I’ll put 50 on ya Just to serve you up from civics from ancient Sparta Gorillas by night, instead of armies by day That’s how you blot out the sun, I guess we’ll fight in shade Since Russ put me on game I’ve branded my name Packaged my brain And sold it for change Come on dawg, I don’t get paid I do it for the love, to involve and create Before you come at me, attack the system Don’t shoot the messenger here to help the mission Differentiate the layers Hate the game not player, Don’t want vindictive haters Or victim blamers I’m coming, they ain’t ready To the top is where I’m heading To develop a better version When compared to Chris Webby If you’re a humble giant, I’m an irate leviathan Make a logical argument Not how you feel about all of it

Your raw thoughts Are so far off We all feel lost And at a loss You think you’ll get capped But with you bro their glad You’re here to distract And riddle the facts

I’ll have political gaff And the critical task That relates to the bag And science tested in labs We’re like white American dads That are high on that gas But I’ll be chilling and laugh While you’re triggered on Zans You should definitely really stop talking but the vax Cuz you don’t know what you’re talking about when it comes to facts You don’t know basic terms or how to interpret the math You just listen to Rand Paul who condemns Fauci for cash You’re perfectly free, to be fucking idiot And from the looks of it You really fucking nailed it kid You can’t talk to Lupe without getting triggered You don’t understand words let alone the bigger picture (Which is why)

Your raw thoughts Are so far off We all feel lost And at a loss You think you’ll get capped But with you bro their glad You’re here to distract And riddle the facts

I’ll give birth to your fears like a vagina involved And slap you after busting a fucking nut in my palm Oh webby let me suck your dick till I choke Til you admit that you’re wrong and that you sound like a joke Be careful what you wish for, cuz you’re sexy and hot You make me wanna scrape and bite while giving you top You sick fuck, you like it rough and when I shit on your chest You like when dominatrix take away your respect You’re shitty, disgusting, putrid, nothing You should find the end on a bridge by jumping Pop more pills til your life dull and fuzzy You know what’s overrated? motor functioning If I’m not getting you off, than I don’t wanna get on If your not triggered at all, then I’m spitting it wrong Republicans are the reason the country is shit So with the political rap I’ll show you how to do this Marjorie Taylor Green, fuck yourself with a bat Lauren Bobert shove a cherry bomb up your ass Ted Cruz and Matt gates are secret fags With Trump, please kill yourself or we’ll be sad Rand Paul you’re a monster, Fauci is a hero damn How much money have you made from condemning the man They need to put a bulls nose ring on Mitch McConnell’s neck And steer him clear of lobbyists’ checks Fuck what am I saying, that’s all of Congress And nothing’s gonna change until we get money out of politics So brother help me fight and change the mechanisms To give power to the people and not seek to leverage them

Had Enough

I just wanna salute to Immortal Technique I wish it wasn’t a conspiracy, but it’s ill, preach It’s a rich man’s world, and the purposes they seek Their self-interests align to the same degree A CEO fraternity The CFR logistically You heard of the absurdity Like knights of old, I’ll murder the Thought that I won’t fervently Fix it like a surgery Precisely, lift the burden leave The evil for prosperity

It’s like we’re numb to the carnage and just watch them bleed Don’t ever say I didn’t try to help you see I’ll go to the school in your nearest town Go outside and hang the flag upside down Cuz every day there’s a shooting What the fuck are we doing Had enough, come on y’all Learn “How to Love” like Tunechi Cuz every day there’s a shooting What the fuck are we doing Had enough, come on y’all Learn “How to Love” like Tunechi

What bitch ass mafucka sucka Mcee Is gonna tell me, I got what you need When it’s clear he agreed to corporate greed Check yourself before you wreck yourself Gee Couldn’t give a fuck, go and taunt, make a show of it Cuz when I make Um turn on you the reasons will be copious You’re not for the culture You don’t represent the community The only reason it makes sense to you is because you’re assuming things You better sound dope, cuz your points are wrong Wait, I mean we have a Republican star It’s like half of America, where do I start I’m surrounded by idiots and feel like Scar Like The Island Boys who need a job Huh, come on dawg No hypothetical taunt You made me drop my croissant That’s you, you’re a meme Where’s your pathetic response Cuz I’m just a mitten boy, just tryna make it That’s how your flow sounds on, not acappella and off basis You’re the poster child for what it’s like to make it When you’re famous talentless and baseless You little bitch, put me on blast on MTV Oh wait it’s not Cameo, my bad, hee hee Red and blue may make violet But on flag with stars they stand for violence

I know it’s hip-hop, so we all tote big guns Move that product and make dope puns But tell me about the culture of guns How it relates to violence, and what it does To kids and teens in school and halls Or a simple kiosk in the middle of the mall It’s not your fault, you’re just the culprit Because how you conducted your thoughts around the substance It’s bigger than black and white It’s a problem with the way of life We should love one another Don’t give up on me brother

You should write some raps About the rights we should have If we try, we can How bought that You should write some raps About the rights we should have If we try, we can How bought that You should write some raps About the rights we should have If we try, we can How bought that

#hiphop #rap #daniel glover #tom mcdonald #connor price #samson #calhoun #kharii #ekoh #rapper #michigan #usa

0 notes

quindolyn · 4 years ago

Note

subby Jamie fluffy (Smut?) where he wakes up in the middle of the night and sucks on the readers titties to drink from her tits because she's lactating after giving birth to their daughter. I don't know if this makes sense but I hope it does!

Lactation Kink || James Potter

A/N: I'm not even sure if I should include "kink" but I will admit that there are some very smutty overtones so read at your own discretion. I tweaked the request a little bit in terms of the circumstances but the bones are still there. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: lactation kink, light sub!James and Dom!reader, not much I don't think, all acts are completely consensual and if they needed a safe word they'd have one

Word Count: 1851

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were life savers. They could only watch their two closest friends creep closer and closer to death for so long before doing something about it.

After giving birth to a beautiful baby boy seven months ago you and James had come to understand a new definition of the word exhaustion. You were absolutely enamoured with your baby boy, James the same way if not worse, always keeping him cradled in his arms, Harry’s little head nestled into the crook of James’ arm.

Regardless, there is no amount of parental love to counteract the complete lack of sleep the two of you have endured. “Sleep when the baby sleeps” they all say, it's excellent in theory if only the baby would actually sleep.

No, instead you and James were subject to months of newborn induced insomnia,

You’d barely understood what Remus and Sirius were saying when they offered to watch your son for a few days, give you and James some time alone. Even though every part of your being screamed for you to take them up on their offer there was that small, annoyingly persistent, voice in the back of your head. The voice of maternal guilt.

Your friends wouldn’t hear any of your arguments, listening as you insisted that Harry was still far too young for you to leave him, you could barely stand a few hours, how were you supposed to survive days?

Despite your insistence that it was far too early to leave Harry with his godfathers for an extended weekend when the following Thursday rolled around you and James were rather unceremoniously kicked out of your own house, told that reservations had been made for you at an expensive spa and resort and that you were not to return home until the following Monday.

They’d even packed your bags for you.

You and James had successfully made it through the first night away from your baby, your quality of your sleep however was not up to par as you tossed and turned, worrying about the little boy you’d left at home.

Even cuddled up to Jamie’s chest your sleep was more like a light sheet over your consciousness giving you a shallow, unsatisfactory, reprieve.

What you needed was for sleep to hit you over the head with a baseball bat, knock you unconscious for hours and give your body time to recover.

After a long, exhausting day of taking advantage of the resort's numerous spa treatments, your wish of deep, meaningful sleep seemed as though it might actually just come true.

Minutes after laying your head down on the pillow, James slipping into bed behind you, you were out cold. Pulling you closer so that he could bury his face in the crook of your neck James was close behind you.

Finally, sleep.

-----

Your tits hurt, they fucking hurt. You were finally getting some quality sleep but the discomfort in your chest became intolerable and you were lulled back into a dreaded state of consciousness.

You’d been so ready for sleep and the peace that it would bring that you’d forgotten to pump your milk before getting into bed. You find yourself regretting that decision now, you shift slightly in James’ hold, just as tight as it had been when you’d fallen asleep. The clock on the bedside table reads three in the morning.

Fuck me, you think, your thoughts still blurry from sleep, carrying a weight in your temples that lures your head back down to the pillow as you fall back into your spot in James’ arms. You’re going to have to get up eventually, that much you understand, but the prospect of getting up and finding the pump, hooking it up, then actually sitting there while you pump sounds nothing short of absolutely dreadful.

You can only lay there for so long, on your back so as not to apply any pressure to your breasts, staring up at the ceiling before your tits go from hurting to feeling like they’re about to explode.

Eventually you’re forced to begin to fuss in James’ arms, trying to find the seal that will let you get up hopefully without waking your husband.

Even asleep James’ grip is insistent, he’s like quick sand, the more you try to maneuver your way out of his arms the tighter his hold gets, the closer he pulls you to him.

“Jamie, you gotta let go,” You murmur, hoping to appeal to the half asleep man.

“Where you going, angel?” His voice is the crashing of a wave against the shore in your ears, low, rumbling, calming. That voice alone is enough to have you considering just climbing back into bed with him, exploding tits be damned.

“Forgot to pump Jamie, m’tits feel like they’re ready to explode.”

He flickers his eyes open, worry etched into his irises, already blanketed in sleep, “Hurting?” Raising his head his eyes drop to your tits, like maybe he’ll be able to see your affliction.

“A little bit,” You nod, your hands combing through his unruly curls before making another attempt to rise from the mattress, “Gonna pump and then I’ll feel all better. I’ll be quick.”

“No,” He whines, god you miss the sound of his whine. His arms are like steel as he pulls you firmly back onto the bed, “M’thirsty anyways.”

Confusion heightens in you before James turns you so you’re fully on your back before slipping under your arm, resting his head on your chest.

Nimble fingers find the neckline of the silk camisole you’d found in the luggage Remus and Sirius had packed for you, sons of bitches also packed every single pair of lacy panties you own.

With little difficulty he slips the thin strap down your shoulder allowing him to tuck the soft material of the top under your breast.

“Miss my girls,” He whispers as he bares your breasts, they’re swollen with milk but the way he’s looking at you you’d think they were something far more precious.

“I’ll be gentle,” His promise comes just as he latches onto your pert nipple, carefully guarding his teeth with his lips, the last thing he would wanna do is hurt you.

It bears little resemblance to the way he used to suck your tits, fervently like they were the only things keeping him grounded, sometimes they had been. Now he proceeds with a new sense of caution but that doesn’t mean it’s any less pleasurable.

“Jamesie, ‘s for Harry, you can’t drink the baby’s milk,” You regrettably push him off your tit, he looks anything but pleased.

“They were mine first,” He whines, throwing you a dirty glance that falls completely flat given the immense adoration that lies just behind it, “And I told you (Y/N), ‘m thirsty, want your milk. Wanna make you feel good.”

Giving you his most convincing puppy dog eyes he leans back in, he latches on efficiently and sucking with an increased vigor you feel a feeling of fullness swell in your breast as your nipple tingles. It’s a feeling you’ve gotten used to but so rarely has it ever turned you on as when James is the cause of it.

He hums in satisfaction as the warm milk seeps into his mouth, it encourages him in his efforts causing him to latch on tighter. A little too tight.

“Easy there baby,” You hiss, “M’tits are sensitive.”’

He complies immediately, loosening his lips around your nipple the sensation becomes pleasurable once more. The pleasure helps distract from the discomfort which, at least in the tit James it latched onto, seems to be dwindling. The other breast is left aching until you feel a similar sensation coming from your nipple.

“You’re leaking.”

Casting your eyes downward you see that he’s right, you’re leaking slightly out of your unattended nipple. It's not unusual for it to happen but usually you just brush it away with a warm washcloth, not wanting to have a sticky mess on your chest.

Carefully, he brushes the pad of his thumb over the over sensitive bud.

“Can’t let it go to waste,” He brings his thumb to his mouth to suck it clean, the visual is almost enough to make your head spin.

You can’t remember the last time you saw James subby, ever since you’ve had Harry it's been sleepy handjobs and once you fully recovered, him pushing you up anywhere he could and taking you right there. It’s like parenthood awoke something far more dominant inside of him but as he latches back onto your tit you’re reminded how beautiful he is when he submits to you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, letting your fingers dance along the nape of his neck as you feel yourself unwinding with every second he sucks at your tit, bringing you relief.

“You full yet?”

He gently lets your tit slide from his mouth before responding, “Does it still hurt?”

The genuine concern in his voice has butterflies erupting in your stomach, you learned a long time ago just how sweet and caring James is but sometimes it hits you harder than you were expecting and you’re left feeling just as giddy as you did in the beginning of your relationship.

James seems to have sucked you dry, or at least to a point where your tit no longer burns with the feeling of an impending explosion.

“No s’all better baby, did such a good job,” You guide his face up towards yours, “Got a little milk on your lips,” You lean in, kissing the milk off his swollen lips.

It’s sweeter than you expected but maybe everything was sweeter coming off his lips.

You take your time admiring his face, hazel eyes that look a little more brown than they did yesterday, lips an impossible pink. Thick, long lashes you remember envying for as long as you’ve known each other cast their shadows along his cheekbones. He’s perfect.

You run the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip before letting him suck it into his mouth, when he couldn’t get to your tits sucking on your fingers always used to help James calm down. For the life of you you can’t remember the last time he’d sucked on your fingers. If it’d been in the last seven months you’d probably just been too tired to remember.

Letting your digit slide from his mouth James hauls himself over you, careful not to brush against your breasts, to lay on your other side. He moves with a surprising grace considering just minutes ago he’d been in the throws of sleep, you’d forgotten how well he moved.

“Other one now,” He murmurs, eyes glued to your tit as his hands move to cup it, giving him better access to your nipple.

“You sure baby? I can just pump this one and you can go back to bed, s’okay.”

“No,” His brows furrow with his empathic response, if he wasn’t already on top of you you’re sure he’d pull you closer in fear that you might escape, “Mine.”

taglist: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @thatvenusbabe @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @Greenlyblue @emmaev @temporaryissue @gubleryum @msmb @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter @miraclesoflove @shadesofvelma @drachoesimp @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @Ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @Teenwolfbitches28 @lilypad-55449 @jamespotterslover @lilytheally @mo-jean @jeannelupinblack @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @daisyyy2516 @siriusmydeer @remugoodgirl @itzstacie @planet-wolfstar @steveharringtonswhore @saintlike78 @thatdummymarie @cedricisnotdead @pretty-pop-princess-hs @saggyb1lls

3K notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

Text

dick destroyer december | i. midoriya

♡ pairing: izuku midoriya x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.2K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: college!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: with no nut november over, finals complete and christmas right around the corner, your number one boy returns to you with only one thing on his mind.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to twenties ), drinking, mentions of alcohol, mentions of poly!kiribaku, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it y’all ) wall sex, fingering ( female recieving ), light!pet play, spitting, cum play, mentions of sex toys, exhibitionism, oral sex ( male + female recieving ), light!praise, heavy!breeding kink.

♡ author’s note(s): merry christmas everyone! i hope despite the circumstances that you’re all able to enjoy the holidays and are staying safe, if you’re not celebrating i wish you a wonderful day as well!! anyways here’s a little festive fic to satisfy you guys and tysm for 2K+ followers <33 find the corresponding kiribaku fic here!

♡ masterlist | requests

ever since you’d started college, your roomate, katsuki had always said that november was his favourite month of the year; it took you a while to figure out why.

having known the blonde since you were a child, you were aware that he despised the cold weather that nipped at his nose and made his quirk slow down. he hated wearing extra sweaters and begrudgingly asking your mother to make him some hot chocolate whenever he came over to play; in fact he hated asking you for it now as adults in your early twenties but as his good college roommate from freshmen year, you made sure he always had a mug waiting. nonetheless, katsuki’s sudden love for the winter months and festive weeks following honestly confused you to your wits end— especially with the impending doom of finals sneaking up on you.

however, you quickly found out the reason behind your best friend’s change in attitude towards the month of november, six months into your freshman year relationship with izuku midoriya.

“no nut november,” katsuki had purred into the neck of his beer bottle, rolling the cool glass against his bottom lip as he laughed at you from across the room. you had recalled the conversation to have occurred exactly half way through october, before the aforementioned month, you and your roommate had decided to host a small gathering with your classmates— purely fulled by thirty boxes of pepperoni pizza and beer, only two of the boxes had been vegetarian for your friends mina ashido and denki kaminari ( he was challenged by mina to go green for an entire month. “that’s why i love this month s’fuckin’ much.”

bakugou ended his sentence with a swig of his beer, setting the now empty bottle onto the coffee table that had been a house warming gift from his own mom. the sound causes todoroki and sero to jump from their place playing cards against humanity with your girl friend momo on the floor, and kirishima ( bakugou’s crush at the time, who’s drunk and passed out in the blonde’s lap ) to flinch awake. katuski pets his red hair once, making kirishima blink up at him affectionally.

your boyfriend, izuku, fidgets under the intimating stare of your roomie and you can tell he’s fighting the blush that spreads rapidly across his freckled cheeks. “n-no nut november?” your baby squeaks out, large palm settling on your lower waist as you shuffle to get comfortable in his lap. it’s clear he hasn’t taken part before, so you know exactly what your best friend is doing. trying to tease him in front of all your friends and pull him into something that you’re going to hate. nonetheless, deku downs the rest of his own alcoholic drink as bakugou prepares a response— the rest of your friendship group now pulled into the conversation.

“katsuki bakugou, don’t be mean.” you scold with a bite into your grease laced pizza and offer up the rest to izuku, who politely passes. you pout.

“‘m not, just sayin’— that damn month will be the only time of the year that i don’t get to hear you and the goddamn nerd fuckin’ like rabbits all the time.”

this time, its you who fights an embarrassed look on your face while your green haired lover simply swipes todoroki’s shot from the coffee table and swallows it all at once. the dual haired boy only groans before rising to get another from the kitchen and the rest of your friends hide their giggles in their own drinks, cards and half eaten pizza slices. “you…you can hear us?” you squeal incredulously, causing your friends to snort out loud again. izuku still says nothing.

“baby, we damn near almost see you whenever we drop by!” kirishima mumbles with sleep curling in his tone, he stretches like a cat on bakugou’s lap and grins at you— sharpened teeth dazzling under the LED lights in your living room. they flicker to a deep green, but you barely notice it.

abandoning your pizza as a whole, you huff and push up the sleeves of izuku’s hoodie that you wear— just about ready to pummel your best friend into the ground for having people over while you…ahem…get some, but shoto returns from the kitchen quicker than you anticipate and cuts right through the chatter with ease, giving you little time to feel flustered by the sudden turn in conversation. “you guys are more sexually active than my parents and they had four kids, messed up with raising us from touya, though,” he says in his iconic monotonous voice, causing you to splutter and katsuki to kick his feet out in victory. “seriously, i doubt midoriya would be able to beat any of us at this no nut november thing ‘cause of it.”

this time, deku ( as so affectionally nicknamed by your childhood best friend ), pouts, his frustrated voice bleeding into the conversation. “c’mon, don’t you have a little faith in me, shoto?”

“no.” is todoroki’s simple answer. you flinch, did you guys really have sex that often? to the point where no one believed your boyfriend could go a month without getting his dick wet?

“i second that,” kaminari pipes in, picking a mushroom off of his pizza and leaning over to plop it into sero’s mouth.

“third it!” the latter adds.

your roomie takes that and runs with it. “he wouldn’t last a day even if he tried.”

“leave it alone, katsuki.” you find the courage to defend yourself through your flustered state without realising the buzz of beer and vodka shooting through zuku’s veins.

it takes quite a bit to get your boyfriend drunk, he was a big boy after all and played for your college football team but once the drink was through his system he often broke out of his shy demeanour and into one of confidence and challenging your beloved best friend. izuku’s grip on your waist tightens as he leans forward to point accusingly at the blonde before speaking. “wanna fucking bet on it, kacchan?” he says with sparkling emerald eyes and a honeyed voice that makes you twitch in place in his lap. of course you would get horny right in the middle of your two best boys having a drunk argument.

“what’chu say nerd?” bakugou slurs, pushing poor kirishima off of his lap and to the floor in order to stand up and cross the room towards your boyfriend, pointing a finger in his face.

izuku pushes the digit away, smirking up at the blonde drunkenly and everyone’s gaze in the room suddenly falls on them. “i bet that i can last longer in no nut november than you.”

you whimper from your lover’s lap, knowing that as soon as everyone clears out you’re going to pounce on him before this stupid bet takes place. this doesn’t go unnoticed by the girls, momo and mina, who tease you for having such a high libido but you don’t think they’ll understand how much you’re going to suffer without your broccoli haired boyfriend’s dick every other night.

you love izuku and katsuki, you really do— but its times like this, for the sake of your sex drive and love life, that you really wish they’d got along more. maybe it was their little battle for your affection that caused the rift between the two, after all katsuki had been the only boy in your life up until college and izuku, you were pretty sure was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with…either way, their rivalry was getting in your way and was about to be a major cockblock for the next thirty days. “hold up you guys, don’t i get a say in this?” your voice comes out in a slight whine as you tug on midoriya’s fitted shirt, but he’s too busy having a stare off with your roommate to notice. “what about me and my needs?”

“it’s not about’cha, shitty girl.”

“stay out of this, yn.”

you huff, pushing yourself off of your boyfriend izuku’s lap to stand and smack the pair of losers upside their heads before joining your girls on the floor. mina pulls you into a comforting hug, trying to distract your mind from the fact that it’ll be deku dick-less for a month while momo serves you out a set of cards to join her in a game of cards against humanity with the other boys lounging on the floor— kirihsima is invited into the game too. “sounds like i’ll be getting you a dildo as an early christmas present!” ashido comments, swiping her deck off of your hand me down rug before anyone can see them.

momo grins at you while you take your cards and take another shot from poor, unsuspecting shoto. “better make it extra thick, we know he’s got a nice one on him, yn.”

“fuck you guys.”

“gladly, we’re not taking part of no nut november like those two idiots.” the black haired girl hums, shuffling in her seat to start the next round. you roll your eyes and turn your gaze to watch the green and blonde haired boys you adore so much fight over this trivial guys only event.

their cheeks are flushed from all the beer they’ve drunk and they’re leaning on each other for support, but that doesn’t stop them from going at each other. “you couldn’t beat me, even if you tried, shitty deku.” katsuki mumbles, arm around midoriya’s head— forcing the poor boy into bakugou’s large pecs. “haha...shitku…”

“oh try me, bitch.” your boyfriend counters, voice so husky it sends shivers down your spine, although it contrasts deeply with the sight of his adorable cheeks pressed against katsuki’s tits.

they’re too drunk to brawl it out and quite frankly you’re too tired to bother to stop them, mind only wondering how you plan to survive the next thirty days.

three years, three novembers and a few weeks into december later; you’re still wondering how the hell you’ve survived.

ever since that night in your freshman year; izuku, bakugou and the other boys have competed vigorously to last throughout the entirety of no nut november; your boyfriend having won the last three years in a row. katsuki hated it, losing to your izuku but he hated the victory sex you gave him even more.

you’d think he’d be used to it by now, with everyone in their final year of college but bakugou had manage to luck out this year on not hearing you and midoriya go round after round on november thirtieth. finals had hit you guys hard in terms of wrapping up the semester before christmas; they were important to pass too, considering you’d all be graduating within a few months, so you’d barely seen izuku since november ended and december rolled around.

now, being a couple weeks into the festive month and with finals drawing to a close— you had yet to make plans to see your boyfriend. there was little time between the online classes and preparation from the holidays, yet you could feel yourself growing more sexually frustrated by the second. rubbing one out wasn’t doing it for you anymore and listening katsuki’s bragging about his peaceful nights of sleep while you decorated your apartment with mistletoe and tinsel was really starting to tick you off.

the very decoration slips from between your fingers as bakugou walks in, yanking bits of tape from his fingers from where you had him lining the ceiling rails with gold, green and red tinsel. the blonde had only gone and slammed the door to your living room against the wall, grumbling about the stupid mess of clear tape across his clumsy fingers— the action scaring you half to death before you huff, facing him. “what, katsuki? what could you possibly need right now?”

his vermillion gaze picks up from his smoking palms, a last resort to getting rid of the tape. “came to tell ya that ‘m headin’ out with kirishima— going to pick up our girlfriend from the airport.” a sweet blush lays loosely against your best friend’s cheeks at his admission, not long after you guys’ drunken night in freshman year, bakugou had confessed to your red headed companion; only to find out he had a girlfriend waiting for him in his hometown.

kirishima wasn’t a cheater, but he also couldn’t help the flutter in his heart around bakugou— so had the two meet straight away and after a lot of tears and large dramatics, the three settled into a cute little relationship. you’d only met the girl once when she visited both boys for spring break— but you’d loved her and knew how much she made your best friend happy.

you smile nonetheless, picking the mistletoe up from the floor. “tell her i said hi, yeah?” you mention to your friend while he shrugs on a jacket and checks himself in the mirror. katsuki was in love, and it was insanely adorable to see. “do i need to set up the guest bedroom for her ’n kiri?”

“nah, shitty red head kicked out kami, he’s staying with sero and mina while my girl’s up.” katsuki shakes his head, letting you fix the collar of his jacket after you bound over to him. “we’ll be back after lunch to pick up some of my stuff though. so don’t do anything fuckin’ stupid and i’ll see you later, yeah?”

you cross a finger over your heart but the mischievous smile on your face gives you away. “no promises katsu, stay safe out there!”

your smile drops however, as soon as your roommate closes the door behind him, knowing him and kirishima, they’ll probably fuck their girl across all the surfaces in eijirou’s free apartment, which only makes your stomach churn with hot jealously and a hint of arousal.

selfish of you as it were, you wish your boyfriend hadn’t chosen such an intense subject with so many finals and intense studying— but izuku loved engineering almost as much as he loved you, so its not like you would ask him to give up his passion.

besides, you figured he’d look pretty hot in his mechanics classes—sleeves rolled up to his elbows, scared hands on display while sweat drips down his furrowed brow and—

and fuck me, now you were as horny as a mother fucker.

a familiar ache appears between your thighs while you attempt to busy yourself with the rest of the festive decorations; you hang a wreathe at the door both inside and out, tape the remaining tinsel around counters in your kitchen and finally attempt to fix the christmas tree katsuki insisted wasn’t lopsided ( even though it was ). but no matter how hard you worked om christmas-ing the apartment, you couldn’t shake the fantasy of midoriya railing you against his work bench. it wouldn’t go away.

patting your cheeks to calm your hot flush; you decide that you’re done bedazzling and fix some christmas lights above your doorways to go with your LED ones, and get ready to take a cold shower and hoping that the wetness between your legs will go away. you make a b-line for the bathroom, not bothering to bring a spare change of clothes since katsuki isn’t home. it’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before.

you’re half way through your commute, wearing nothing but one of zuku’s old shirts when the front door jingles and busts open from the other side of your home. foot steps pound against your hardwood floor, letting you know someone is approaching.

“fucking hell katsuki, stop slamming the door against the wall before you make another—“ your words die in the back of your throat when your sweet little boyfriend comes into view. albeit a bit dishevelled, deku’s green hair falls prettily over his excited eyes while sweat rolls in tiny droplets from his forehead to his chin and his backpack hanging half off of his shoulder…in all honesty he looks a mess, but a good looking one at that. “zuku? what are you doing here?”

your lover looks bewildered, but a smile that fills you with warmth crosses his face. “i ran across campus to see you; i finished my finals…” he pants, the engineering building is pretty far from here so no wonder he looks the way he does.

despite knowing this, you quirk a brow. “still doesn’t answer my question babe.”

“november is over,” izuku sighs, dropping his backpack and crossing the room towards you in three short strides. When he reaches you, scarred hands curl around your waist while soft lips tickle the shell of your ear with deku’s next words. “it’s christmas…don’t make me wait. i want to fuck you.”

you don’t miss the way bight green eyes darken and drag up your hand naked body, your boyfriend’s shirt ending just above your knees and exposing the meat of your thighs to him. the wetness pools between them, making your skin glisten under familiar flashing LED lights and tinsel. izuku is waiting for a. sign...anything for you to give him consent to take his prize between your legs, electricity crackles in the air and you instinctively reach up to curl your fingers in his curls. “fuck me, izuku.” you say breathlessly, unleashing a month and a half’s worth of hormones out onto each other. “fuck me like you mean it, big boy.”

the teasing lilt to your voice earns you a spank to the ass as deku lifts you up into his arms and over his muscular shoulder. you squeal in delight at the harsh sting, leaning down to pat his ass too. he’s got a particularly nice one and you’re sure it was carved by the fucking gods.

the green haired boy hauls you over to the kitchen counter, setting you down atop it before his lips find yours in passionate and hurried movements. its been so long since you’ve kissed him, felt his muscles ripple under your touch while your hand roams his chest underneath the varsity jacket he wears.

you push the offending material off while izuku trails a hand between your thighs, chuckling into the kiss at the slick that adds a glimmer to your skin. his pink tongue darts out to lick a stripe across your bottom lip, begging for permission to enter your hot mouth. you grant him access, swirling your own pink muscle around is and suck it down. your breath hitches as thick fingers finally come into contact with the burn of your heat, gently prodding at your puffy, sticky clit. “you’re…doll, you’re so fucking wet already. did you miss me?” your boy moans breathlessly in between your sloppy kisses, pulling away to show you the string of your slick that coats his fingers. you nod in agreement.

izuku taps your lips once and you obediently take the digits into your mouth, humming at your sweetness that invades your tongue, all the while, his other wandering hand shoves two digits into your wet cunt with no warning— making you shiver on the counter while the tinsel you’d taped there scratches at your calves. both sets of fingers thrust into your openings at the same time, giving you a friction you so awfully desire.

“such a good girl, dollface— fuck, i f-forgot how good you looked sucking on my fingers like that.” midoriya whines out and you’re not sure which of your holes he’s referring to, but you couldn’t care less, not when those that stuff your tight pussy are curling against the walls in a way that has you leaking sweet nectar all over your marble surfaces. you gush at his praise however, bucking your hips into his hand while the heel of his palm grinds into your swollen clit— sending shockwaves through your body.

the fingers that plug your mouth are pulled out so the darling sounds of your moans mingle with that of your dripping heat, walls clenching around izuku every once on a while. your lover grinds against the table, watching you with close eyes as your face contorts into expressions that he’s missed so dearly. one thrust into your spongy g-spot makes your body jump and thighs close around your boyfriend’s hand— head falling forward against his shoulder. “mnn, zuzu... haven’t felt this good in s’long, gonna cum, gonna mess up your hand.”

to your dismay, deku pulls from your cunt faster than you would have liked and you whine at the empty feeling in your stretched out hole. your heat makes an awful dripping sound when you’re fully empty, and you grunt knowing that its a mess you’ll have to clean up later.

however, you’re easily distracted by the lips at your collar bones, painting bruises into your sweat licked skin while slick hands paw at your breasts. “cum on my face first, please?” its cute how desperate izuku is, but you can’t say that you aren’t either— especially when you haven’t fucked in so long.

“yes, god yes…” you accept too quickly while your shirt is pulled off completely; for midoriya’s mouth as moved from pressing hot kisses to your neck onto biting at your breast and rolling the hardened nipple of your other with his free hand. “but, wanna suck you off too ‘zuku…”

your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate with his next movements, kicking off his pants and boxers ( in one go, mind you ) before picking you up once again and sinking to the floor with you in his arms. he makes quick work of flipping you onto your tummy, pulsing cunny shoved so close into his face that you can feel deku’s nose bump your clit when he breathes and then; your face rests so easily on the swell of his thigh— right next to his hardened cock that you’ve missed so much.

izuku midoriya is a god and you swear by it.

your friend’s were right, he is packing. he’s thick and girthy, tip angry and red as it leaks heavily with a clear precum that has you drooling. “missed your dick, zu,“ you sigh, mostly to yourself and before you know it, your lips enclose around the head of his cock.

the way you suck on it, as if you’ve been starved of your last meal makes izuku shiver with pleasure and his nails dig into your peachy ass. you roll his balls between your fingers, loving the delicious whimpers you manage to lure from between your boy’s lips and the sound makes your pussy spasm around nothing.

a weighted palm moves to the back of your head in order to push you further down on his cock, deku’s own hips bucking up so you swallow more of him down. the taste of him is dangerously addictive, saltiness dancing across your tongue. “suck my dick sweetheart, yeah? suck on it just like that, good girl.” the hot breath from each of his choked laments brushes against your eager cunt, dampening your skin even more. he dives right in, tongue slithering between your puffy folds while he slurps at you with at insatiable place.

izuku craves to make you feel nothing but ecstasy, working his pink muscle hard against your walls that clamp down on his tongue while yours runs laps between the dribbling tip of his iron hot length. inhaling sharply, you force yourself to take more of deku down your throat, listening out for the tears that sting in his emerald eyes wen you swallow around him. You hum with sweet victory when his breathing stutters and hips jump up with excitement.

you’re both close, sensitive from the time you’ve spent away from one another, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care. the room rises with temperature at every step you take towards orgasm, deku taking your cheeks in large, calloused palms and spreading you apart to spit directly into your hole. you swear on your life you’d never known pleasure until you’d met izuku, as no matter how much time you’d been apart, he still knew all the little tips and tricks to get you going. where to hold you, how to touch you, what to say. he was always so focused on making you feel good.

your head bobs up and down with an inconsistent pace, each time, your tongue mapping out the veins on his girth that you’d come to know so well, hand’s fisting at balls and the rest of his cock that you can’t reach.

“i’m gonna…doll—puppy, i’m gonna cream in that mouth of yours… please,” a strangled cry. “i-is that okay?”

you tap his thigh once, your own little signal to let your boyfriend know it’s okay before continuing your work— letting drool pool in your mouth before spewing it onto his cock. deku pulls his tongue from inside of you, flicking it rapidly at your clit to bring you closer and closer to the edge, not wanting to cum without you. and he doesn’t, the cord that’s built up in your stomach finally snapping.

white flashes behind your eyes as you gush all over izuku’s face, drenching his freckled cheeks and painting his innocence with a layer of your honeyed sin. Your lover follows shortly after, filling your mouth to the brim with a heavy load that tastes of him and only him. a taste that you could fall in love with every single day. “baby,” you giggle after letting go of his cock with a satisfying ‘pop’, heat spreading beneath your skin as you take note of the slight shine to the green haired student’s face. “think you made me squirt!”

“guess i did! you’re always so cute when you squirt for me, yn,” and like the messy boy he is, midoriya wipes his mouth on the back of his hand ( always a poor eater, couldn’t keep his meal in one peace ) before peeking at you from over your quivering and arched back. izuku smiles proudly at his handy-work of your messy cunt, radiating a billion rays of sunshine and your heart clenches in your chest. you hate how cute he looks when you’re in such a lewd and compromising position, like he hadn’t just fucked you dumb under the mistletoe. “should’ve been on my dick ’n not m-my tongue though...”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to another round, if you aren’t.”

“like hell i could say no to being inside you after a whole month of waiting, doll.”

you roll your eyes, but wiggle your hips back into your boyfriend’s face nonetheless. “then dick me down deku, destroy me.”

with your boyfriend’s help, you manage to crawl off of his lap and wait patiently on your knees as he stands. izuku beams down at you, a hundred and one words of love written in his eyes that glow warmly under christmas lights before he pets your head and reaches for your hands to help you stand on shaky legs.

the first kiss you share after this is gentle and sweet, even while your tangled fingers are set free and deku’s large hands are once again on your waist, rubbing small circles into the skin of your hips as he backs you into the nearest wall. you simper at the taste of yourself on his tongue and allow him to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs— locking your ankles at the centre of his back and just above bis bum— all the while keeping you pressed against the wall.

the outline of izuku’s length presses hotly against your weeping slit, his lips still slotted against yours in a slow liplock while his tip smears the remains of his seed across your clit and between your folds. you feel your boyfriend’s arms quiver around you as he slowly begins to sheath himself within your spamming pussy— jolting away from his lips, your mouth falls open in a weak moan and the green eyed boy quickly follows you, copying the movement of your lips as his sweaty forehead meets your own and your gazes align sweetly. “doll…” he mumbles brokenly, letting you adjust to the push of his cock against your walls. “been so long since i felt you like this…”

your fingertips reach out and graze his shoulders, hot breath fanning out between your bodies as izuku’s cock reaches the hilt inside of you. he stills. “move baby, can’t wait anymore— “

izuku midoriya doesn’t need to be told twice when it comes to fucking you; finally making the move to bottom out inside of your pussy. heat blossoms in your heart and your glistening mound as your lover gently rolls his hips against yours and the way he feels reminds you that your mind, body and soul belong to him and him only.

although you are finally together, moving as one against the wall in your shitty college apartment, you crave for izuku to fill you to the brim and reach up to tug at mossy locks in order to bring him impossibly closer.

you don’t dare close your eyes as deku sets the pace, not even as your gaze on him flutters, you want the image of his blushed and blissed out face imprinted to into the back of your mind forever, you want the sounds of struggled whimpers and skin slapping against skin to become the tune of your memories. you want your senses to be filled with him always and forever as make love against tinselled ceiling rails and mistletoe above your heads. all you can think is more, more, more. more of him, more of izuku.

“focus on me, puppy,” izuku reminds you, grinding his pelvis against you every time his hips canter into you. his cock grazes the entrance of your womb, leaking into you like a cocktail of your arousals. but the neediness behind his words makes you blink away the glassiness in your eyes, locking your arms and legs around him tighter and grinding your hips down to meet the drive of his cock into your spongy g-spot. “your cute lil hole’s still so tight, nice ’n moulded into the shape of my cock— made to take me, right?” your boy babbles, tripping over his sentences through the saliva on his tongue.

the feeling has you stirring against your boyfriend’s length, his now rapid pace sending your teary eyes rolling and you mewling. “made for you ’n only you ‘zu, please don’ stop…” is all you can say, mind breaking as midoriya’s hands drop between your joined bodies to draw lazy shapes into your puffy nub, the movements silky due to the mild mix of juices coating your sexes.

each thrust from your lover sends you a little bit up the wall, head of his cock catching tastefully along the ridges of your velvety walls— the way your pussy feels inside drives izuku to the brink of insanity, you’ve always been able to take him so well and he missed the way your cute face curled into expressions of desire all for him. you’re so pretty, so intoxicating and he’s so happy to have you back in his arms.

“s-such a good girl for me, yn…fucking hell puppy,” izuku punctuates each of his toe curling thrusts with stuttered cries of your name, angling his hips upwards to hit your g-spot over and over. everything feels so sloppy, tainted with signs of your love but as the knot in your stomach begins to unravel, you couldn’t care less. “gonna make you mine, gonna fill you up and make you my fucking puppy.”

“’m already yours, always will be zuku,” you manage to speak, clenching down on him and letting out an almost pornographic moan as deku drills into you with the last of his strength.

he nods against your foreheads that remain pressed together, staring at you with adoration written across his seafood eyes. “love you, doll…love you s’much, you did so well baby…cum for me now…” izuku mumbles out, hissing slightly as your grip on his hair tightens to yank him down for one final searing kiss.

tears of heavenly pleasure roll down your cheeks as he swallows your final moan, his words pushing you right over the edge and into an earth shattering orgasm. “c-cumming!” you squeal so loud that you’re sure the neighbours can hear, while you lose control and pulse around midoriya’s scalding cock. the world of colour flashes behind your eyes— release splattering out against your boyfriend’s pelvis and the floor. “mnnn, izuku! i love you, please…”

you’re begging now, your sloppy pussy coaxing him along to his own release while deku relentlessly fucks into you. his chest rumbles with every one of his whimpers and groans, cock pushing you into overstimulation while he snaps his hips into you.

“ohh i love you…gonna cum, gonna cum— fuck, puppy—!” he sobs pathetically, dropping his head to your neck as his teeth clamp down on your bare skin to silence himsel. your tired body is forced up the wall while izuku tumbles into his own orgasm, sweltering seed splashing up inside your abused cunt. he slows to a grind, creaming inside you and painting your insides white as snow— panting with you until your breathing calms down.

the pair of you sink to the floor again, still in one another’s embrace as exhaustion sweeps over your limbs. before you know it, izuku is giggling sweetly against your lips, pressing grateful kisses along your neck and jaw while you fiddle with his baby hairs on the nape of his neck— still trying to catch your breath.

“t-that,” he sighs, nothing but love and adoration cushioning his gaze on you as you settle in his lap. you squirm at feeling so full, his cum dripping out of your fluttering hole but find yourself getting comfortable soon after. “that was so good, i missed you, yn, really.”

you cup the boy’s freckled cheeks and hum, heart swelling at his slight confession. “i missed you more zuku, all of you, not just your dick.” you clarify your words, making light of the mess you’ve made.

izuku rolls his eyes but leans into your gentle touch nonetheless, faking a pout in order to get a kiss on the lips. “glad to know that my girlfriend still loves me, even when she’s been deprived of my godly cock for a month and a half.”

“i’ll always love you.” you say, leaning in to give him a slight peck on the lips.

“as will i.”

you both tilt your heads to complete the vow with a simple kiss when a cough cuts through the love filled atmosphere, making you and izuku jump right out of your skin. Immediately, your gaze scopes out the room, only to land on your child hood best friend— accompanied by both his girlfriend and boyfriend. fuck, you completely forgot about that.

“are you two done now?” katsuki drawls, still tucked into his winter jacket, while krishima covers his girlfriend’s eyes with a free hand, the other occupied by her luggage from her flight. she still offers you an awkward smile and a wave.

“k-kacchan! haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” deku squeaks, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into his chest and at least protect some of your decency. it’s nothing bakugou nor kirishima haven’t sen before ( it’s not the first time you’ve been caught like this ) but you allow yourself to fall into izuku’s protective embrace anyways— heated embarrassment prickling underneath your skin.

your blonde roommate, however, is livid— staring you down with bloody eyes that speak tales of murder. “knock? knock? i fucking live here, you shitty nerd!” bakugou scolds, making you flinch and offer him a weak smile. eijirou by now has the decency to escort his girlfriend into his other partner’s room to gather some of his belongings, effectively leaving you and your boyfriend to face the wrath of your favourite angry pomeranian. the blonde turns to you. “and i thought i told you not to do anythin’ fuckin’ stupid while i was gone?”

“don’t yell at me! i didn’t know izuku was coming… literally and figuratively!” both boys groan at this, making you scowl. what? it was a good joke! “besides, i was just congratulating my boyfriend for winning no nut november, again. you should be used to it by now, suki.”

katuski looks between you both, annoyance sweeping his face before he pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs. “couldn’t you congratulate him somewhere else? somewhere, where i didn’t have to be blinded and traumatised for the rest of my shitty life.”

this time, it’s your boyfriend who speaks up, standing with you in his arms. deku smirks evilly, pointing to the little green plant above your heads. “no can do kacchan, it’s dick destroyer december and there was no better way to start it, than under the mistletoe.”

izuku turns swiftly on his heel and makes a dash towards your bedroom before your best friend can threaten to blow you up, presumably to fuck you in your bed for this next round.

“fuck you guys!” he curses you out, watching you go.

“we’re already on it, have a great christmas, katsuki!” you sing back, just a deku slams your door shut and drops you onto your bed— already crawling on top of you.

you’d have to thank katsuki someday for challenging izuku back in freshman year, because without his newfound love for november— you wouldn’t have discovered your guilty pleasure for dick destroyer december.

4K notes · View notes

elifalvey · 9 months ago

Text

The fifth year anniversary of the accident that had changed Amethyst’s life was merely looming over Elijah’s head, meaning that it was only a matter of time before the usual deprecating thoughts started to seep through the cracks of his personal defenses. It had always happened around this time, when June inched closer and closer on the calendar and memories of Harrison, happy and smiling and alive, managed to occupy a larger space in his mind than they did in the colder months. He always did his best to drown them out, in previous years, throwing more things on his plate to distract himself from the ‘what if’s that would haunt him in his sleep; what if they never added that extra show, what if the van had gotten stuck in traffic, what if they’d just switch seats.

It was undoubtedly exhausting going through such a routine each year, knowing that he would be stuck with this mental plague for the rest of his life. However, selfishly, with the addition of Rhiannon, he thought that he’d be able to avoid the pattern this year. He had his little girl to focus on instead, who didn’t deserve an absentminded and distracted father, period. Clearly the universe — Roman and Kaya, more specifically — had other plans, reemerging in Providence Peak to lead the spiral in a completely different direction: what if he had just stayed.

He never allowed himself to go down that particular train of thought before, believing that if he was confident enough in his decision to leave, then all of the nasty aftermath of such wouldn’t hurt him; he could block them all out of his life, ignore every stupid internet article about theirs, and heal. It was why he was so headstrong when confronting both of his bandmates, refusing to climb out of the hole he’d dug for himself as he continued to burrow further and further down. He couldn’t handle the possibility that the choice he’d made was a bad one, that perhaps Roman was right and he was cruel, that perhaps Kaya was right and Harrison would hate him for it. That regardless of what was said, he’d never really know.

In the comfort of his own home, his ideology started to crumble. Both of their voices rang out so clearly in the front of his mind that he found himself scoffing at Aslihan’s attempt at comfort, to absolutely no fault of her own. In any other circumstances, there was a chance that her words would mean something, despite the fact that she’d never met the man who caused all of this. Unfortunately, it was simply ironic now. No, he could hate me. No, he never loved me. What I’ve done could have changed everything. Please, just hear me out . . . don't hate me, too.

He shook his head.

“I . . . I saw my bandmates. Um — K-Kaya today, and Roman . . . a few months ago.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the sweat from his palm leaving a rather cool sensation. His voice was trembling. “I haven’t really, uh . . . mentioned them before. We — um. Didn’t really leave off on good terms?” His chuckle was dry as he tried to navigate through what he needed to say. His eyes were still lowered, purposefully avoiding her gaze on the off chance that he’d find disappointment there too; he wouldn’t be surprised, if that were the case. “The last I saw them, it was . . . uh, after . . . everything, I guess. A few years ago. I —” He winced. “I just needed to get out. The weight of it all felt like it was crushing me and the only thing that I could think to do was leave —” he spoke quickly, despite the uncertainty still lining his tone. “But they . . . um. Don’t . . . see it, y’know, the same way. They kept saying that I abandoned them. They don’t understand.”

He expelled a sigh. “I can’t make them understand. Losing him — Harry — it was hard, for - for all of us, but I —” Swallowing thickly, he finally looked up. “I loved him. I . . . loved him. I - I - I spent years, decades, loving him, wanting him, wishing more than anything to just —” Tears had begun to well in his eyes again and he clenched his fist. “I don’t know.” It came out dejected, in a whisper, like it all didn’t matter now. He supposed it didn’t.

“I never told anybody. Especially not them . . . Roman is just, Roman — and Kaya, she . . . or, they, y’know. It was complicated.” Complicated being the best term to describe the all-encompassing whirlwind that was her relationship with Harrison. There was a long pause. “It doesn’t matter now. They won’t — I can’t,” he settled on. “He called me cruel. She said that he’d hate me. Maybe they’re both right.”

( @draslihanxfahri-bailey )

Aslihan has never been able to handle seeing Elijah cry. To see him so upset and such agonizing pain that the only way to express it, to release it all, was for him to cry. For the anthropologist, it broke her heart. It has always been one of the most agonizing, most horrible things she's ever witness. Though, part of that must've come from the fact that the man has always tried to appear so strong in front of her. That he was unshakeable and capable of handling anything. While there was a part of her that appreciated him sharing his vulnerability with her, it was a double-edged sword. Though, at this point, they've learned to lean on each other more. To allow each other to see the parts of them that others don't witness.

After a little over a year and a half of being in a relationship, along with three and a half years of being friends, and now nearly ten months of being parents together, they've seen parts of each other that no one else have. Understood each other in such an unbreakable way, bonded to each other for the rest of their lives and impacted each other's hearts in ways that no one else could. So, perhaps she has become emboldened in the belief that there was nothing that Eli could say or do that would surprise her completely.

Her dark curls moved as she shook her head. "You have nothing to apologize for," she whispered. Moving one of her hands to brush some of his hair away from his forehead so that she could lean in and kiss it. "They're just cigarettes, love. And we can put everything back together the way they were before. Or maybe even do something new; It's time for a refresh, huh? We can work on it together. It's okay."

If the curator could look back on this moment, she'd laugh sadly at her own naivete. How it'd been more than some silly cigarettes or a big mess that needed to be cleaned up. No, it was so much more. Though, perhaps she could argue that during that time, she truly believed that she knew everything about the man she called her partner. That if anyone would to ask her a question about Eli, that she'd be able to answer it honestly without needing to take a beat to think about what the answer could be. That she knew him in and out the same way she did.

After all: the woman hadn't realized how wrong she'd been. Or that there was still some things that she hadn't known about the man who captured her heart.

As she sat there, her fingers caressing him while she tried to comfort him with soothing words, she'd been certain that they could work this out together. The same way they've worked out other things together in the past. She'd been certain that this was going to be okay and that they'd be able to work things out, then be back to going about their life together as before. That maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to go back to thinking about their future together without any fear.

How naive she believe she was, once looking back to this moment.

"What?" Her brows furrowed, pulling back slightly as she got a look of her partner. How could anyone ever hate him? That felt impossible. Before she could even ask, he clarified who he was talking about. And her heart fell. "Oh, my love... No." Asli shook her head before she pulled him back in for a hug, sighing softly. "No, no, no. He could never hate you; He loved you. He loved you with all his heart. There's nothing you could've ever said or done that could've change that. Why do you believe that? Did something happen? Do you really miss him today?" ||📜@elifalvey

#INTERACTIONS.#ft. asli #death tw #grief tw #car accident tw

10 notes · View notes

cowboyhorsegirl · 2 years ago

Note

omg evren please say more about tonynat on some sort of mission where they need to fake date!! <3

@meidui, you've never known this because i have unfortunately never gotten around to answering any of your asks before, but you always send the best ones <3 I started writing this response back in May and couldn't ever figure out how to write the last scene between tony & nat, but I've taken a crack at it now in the hopes that you can enjoy this insane infodump of meta & a bit of fic before you move on to healthier and happier things :)

!!!!!!!!!! ahhhh yes gladly !!!!!!!!!!!!

(and sorry this took so long i hope you don’t mind that I wrote you a novel lmfao)

((Also I’m going to talk A LOT about IM2 but bear in mind that it's been about a decade since i've watched it so if I misconstrue anything please let me know!))

First of all, I absolutely adore Tony and Natasha separately, and I think had they been able to interact more in the MCU canon they would have served to ease each other’s insecurities and curb their more self-destructive tendencies. There’s undoubtedly a lot of parallels between their histories and their motivations for choosing to be heroes:

they’ve got a lot of red in their ledgers, so to speak

they’re trying to even out the scale of all the harm they’ve done

they place the blame of those harms squarely on their own shoulders even though they are both–to varying degrees–victims of the systems they were a part of when enacting that violence (I will say I feel this is much more true in Nat’s circumstances with the KGB than in Tony’s with the US military-industrial complex, but the case can be made for him too what with Tony’s enduring addiction and mental health issues stemming from his relationship with his father who expressly expected him to take over the company [sidebar: i would make the case that tony does not and has never liked building weapons as these are not things that he chooses to do with his engineering prowess in childhood or at MIT, and while he is leading SI he acts out in ways that in my view indicate he’s deeply unhappy with his life and is trying to numb the pain] + the way he was manipulated and ultimately almost killed multiple times by Obadiah)

traumatic medical experiences involving painful, life-changing surgeries AND loss of bodily autonomy

But! There’s also some similarities in how they try to cope with these burdens. For example, they’re both extremely competent at what they do and in a perpetual state of trying-to-prove-themselves (this tends to function more internally for nat and more externally for tony) so their default mode is often to obscure what they feel/think in most situations from everyone but an extremely select group of trusted friends as a means of concealing emotional vulnerability. They are also both prone to throwing themselves into an unhealthy work/life balance because there’s always something more they specifically could be doing to help and it seems as though neither of them can bear to forgive themselves for inaction if their involvement could have saved even one more life regardless of the personal cost.

(That last point especially *COUGH endgame COUGH*)

So in my opinion they would’ve come to be able to recognize these habits in each other at a level of familiarity that Rhodey and Pepper do for Tony or that Clint does for Natasha, but in a shorter time period. Furthermore, because they see themselves in each other, I think they’d be much more discerning over when is the appropriate time to push the other hard to treat themself better because a coping mechanism is becoming overly destructive and when they should give the other a bit more leeway because, yeah, what you’re doing right now probably isn’t the most healthy way for you to process things in the moment but I understand where you’re coming from and I know that if I try and get you to work through things too quickly or in the way i think would be best I might accidentally end up pushing you farther away. I’d rather you be overworking and/or emotionally distancing yourself in my orbit so I can be here for you when you come up for air.

I’m going to put the rest of this under the cut because i haven’t even gotten around to the point of your message lmfao (thank you so much for the ask btw !!!)

However! The crux of the issue is that, for all of their similarities and potential compatibilities, Tony and Natasha first met when Tony was dying (stressful in its own right but in Tony’s case, it specifically ties directly back to the aforementioned medical trauma + previous near-death experiences) and Natasha was undercover on behalf of SHIELD collecting intel on him for a superhero initiative that he did not know anything about and did not know he was being considered for. They don’t really get the chance to engage and interact in good faith because of the inherent nature of “Natalie’s” mission, but I think that the sources for potential long-term mistrust go a bit deeper than that superficial subterfuge.

Natasha in this situation is manipulating tony to gather information on him and denying him full control over medical decisions, and he is not privy to this prolonged, imbalanced dynamic until much later. Plus, Natasha’s own assessment of Tony is that he is not fit for the Avengers, but that Iron Man is. I feel this could be interpreted by Tony as Natasha suggesting that SHIELD reassign someone else to pilot the suit, further digging into those previous harmful thought patterns for tony that he’s only as worthy as the weaponrymachines he builds, no one values or wants him as he is, people are going to force him to relinquish his creations if he doesn’t give them up voluntarily and with a smile with the now added bonus of: this suit makes me feel like my life is worth living again and now they want to take it away from me because I’m not good enough for it.

As is, this setup makes total sense for their first meeting: Natasha is an agent and a damn good one and Tony is a very powerful man who people are regularly trying to pry information/resources/technology/expertise from by any means necessary.

The problem lies in the fact that these two are then tasked with being on an elite superhero squad where they have to place very complete trust in each other and I just don’t really see that happening without some intense heart-to-hearts about what went down in IM2. Now, as we stated before, these are two people who are very reluctant to open up and share their internal strife even with the few people they’ve developed trusting relationships with over the course of years, so I don’t imagine they would willingly offer that painful transparency to each other.

It seems that the ideal conditions for this sort of conversation to take place would call for a mission requiring only Tony and Natasha to work in an extremely close capacity with each other that involves high stakes and high emotions and in which the success of the mission lies critically in their ability to improvise off each other in order to hide in plain site using the cover of an innocuous personal entanglement.

I sense a fake dating mission!!!!!!!

(Bonus points if the context of the mission harkens back to the one or both of their previous traumas.)

So, to FINALLY get around to the point of your ask, my ideal tonynat fake dating mission would serve the primary purpose of allowing tony and nat to work through the events of IM2 and develop their friendship. This would have to involve recognizing the many similarities they share regarding their motivation to undo the violence and harm that they both wrought in their previous lives and then using that foundation of recognition to build trust and eventually camaraderie and understanding!

And because this is my personal dream tonynat fake dating mission story, the secondary purpose would be to make steve jealous and have an early-onset Feelings Realization™️and/or tony-induced Gay Awakening© because i have perpetual stevetony brain rot and I simply cannot engage with any story without figuring out a way to shove a stevetony plotline into it🤪

The time: the nebulous space after AI/IM3 but before CA:TWS.

The place: a foreign nation with a highly advanced technology sector (I’m thinking either Singapore or Japan or Germany).

The mission: identify and infiltrate a corporation that is suspected to be funneling technology and product to [INSERT VILLAIN ORGANIZATION HERE] [PROBABLY DOOM LOL].

I imagine it would start with Fury assembling the Avengers to brief them on the situation and the long and short of it is this: a weeks-long mission that will involve Tony and Natasha attending a technology expo abroad to figure out who is supplying [VILLAINS] with their tech, infiltrate their operations, gather intel, and collect evidence. There should be no reason to expect any flashy shootouts, Fury insists while leveling a one-eyed glare at Tony, but Clint and Steve will rotate 4 day surveillance shifts on the helicarrier which will be hovering nearby over international waters and Bruce and Thor will be on call in case they do need back-up.

One last thing: undercover identities. Trying to conceal Tony Stark’s identity would be like trying to sweep an elephant under a carpet–Hill has to talk quickly to cut Tony off from reminding them all again how he managed to stay under the radar in Tennessee for a week and if it’s so damn hard for him to go undercover then how come the powers that be at SHIELD couldn’t find him in Buttfuck Nowhere, USA?–but it doesn’t matter because he’ll be able to blend in effortlessly at this conference under the guise of exploring new opportunities for SI to diversify its ventures in the tech sector.

Natasha, on the other hand, will need something a bit more involved. She’ll be attending as Nadine Roman, an aspiring model and Stark’s latest conquest, Fury explains while Hill drops a file detailing the persona in front of Natasha.

At this, the energy in the room shifts a bit as Steve, Bruce, and Tony all have subtle, but undeniable reactions to this news. Bruce frowns slightly, as if trying to imagine what this scenario would even look like. Tony’s eyes slip over to Steve and his smirk falls for just a moment before snapping back into place, albeit looking a little bit more forced than before. As Steve tries to clumsily disguise his own surprised expression, he remembers seeing a story in the news recently about Tony and Pepper’s split as he had been flipping between the international news section and sports.

“So…I’m going to fake date Triple Imposter over there?” Tony finally offers into the silence.

Fury considers him for a second, and is just opening his mouth to respond when Natasha–still studying her file to get the rundown on ‘Nadine’–says “Yeah, if you can handle it,” eliciting an unapologetic snort from Clint where he sits beside her.

Cut to the actual mission, and by all appearances ‘Nadine’ and Tony are technically pulling it off with no issues. Not like it’s hard, really, Red is a literal pro at undercover operations as Tony is quite well aware of having been on the receiving end of one of them. She slips into the role of harmless arm candy flawlessly, batting her eyes and smiling coyly over her bare shoulders at egotistical corporate executives with an almost surgical precision. Her flirting and the prestige that accompanies her temporary status as Tony Stark’s companion gains her access to secret meetings and lowly-lit offices where she fades into the background, making herself known and forgotten with equal efficacy.

For his part, Tony is providing the perfect cover for Natasha to work off of. He parades her around the first day, every bit his ostentatious self to make sure everyone gets the image of her on his arm cemented in their minds. He pretends to be too tipsy to notice when his date seduces men right behind him while skillfully avoiding the drinks that keep getting shoved into his hands. He schmoozes with global industry leaders who make him want to tense his body in disgust, but he forces himself to relax, fielding unwanted touches and unearned familiarity all while trying to pry information out using his own forms of deception and sleight of hand.

It’s strange Tony thinks playing this game again. It hasn’t been all that many years since this was his real life, though it feels like it’s been lifetimes. Considering how many near-death scares he’s had in the past few years, it may as well have been several lifetimes since the last time he’s flounced around one of these conferences with some nameless darling of the night on his arm and one too many drinks in his blood and a desperation to be outside of himself, even if just for a moment, even if he had to kill himself oh-so-slowly to do it.

Oh right.

In all the madness that’s been Iron Man, the ecstasy of building something to do good for a change coupled inextricably with the immense mental toll of his recent heroics, it had been easy to let himself forget what it had felt like to live with the shackles of a duller but more persistent type of misery around his neck.

It unnerves him, too, how easy it is to slip back into this life, but he supposes he had been born and built for it. It’s practically muscle memory or an instinct hardwired into his DNA, so deeply ingrained in him he couldn’t cut out the rot no matter how badly he might want to.

Tensions build as the days pass, until one day while Natasha is off trying to uncover potential industry connections to [VILLAIN ORGANIZATION], it happens. Tony’s in the middle of a conversation that he hates about the merits of private-sector civilian surveillance. But, because he’s Tony Stark and he’s smarter than all of these sleazy business fucks put together, he finds himself dominating the discussion. And, because he’s working this goddamn mission right now, undercover in plain site, he’s arguing for it. Arguing the merits of private sector civilian surveillance.

He finishes the point he was making, met with painfully unsubtle nods of approval and he can practically see the rusty gears in the brains of his so-called contemporaries trying to figure out how quickly they can relay what Tony’s just said to their own company boards.

He knows he’s lived this exact scene at least a hundred times before at no less than a few dozen past expos. He’s never been able to observe the charade so clearly before, though.

As he’s turning away from the crowd of executives surrounding him, Tony doesn’t register that instead of sipping at the glass of water he’s been nursing all night, he’s raised it to his lips and forcefully thrown his head back to drink until his brain realizes that the burn he expected to light a path down his throat hasn’t come yet.

Muscle memory. Just like all the worst parts of him, the parts he will never be without.

Horror dawns on him as he slowly lowers his arm, and the breaths start coming fast and shallow while the cold, cold weight of hysteria begins to settle in his chest, freezing him from the inside out.

I need a drink he thinks for the first time in a long time, and that… That scares him. Because he could do it, it would be all too easy to start again here, now. Someone would no doubt be thrusting another drink innocuously into his hands soon enough because of course they would, he’s Tony Stark and Tony Goddamn Stark is a drunk. Ever since that first drink in the dark of Howard’s office when bourbon branded his mouth with its awful liquid fire and his father branded his soul with a taunt Tony never stopped repeating Stark men are made of iron Stark men are made of iron Stark men are made of iron.

The next few seconds seem to collapse and stretch simultaneously around Tony as if he has suddenly found himself suspended in the middle of a black hole. There’s a slight tremor to his hand as he sets the now empty glass down. The conversation is still moving around him: attention snaps back to him and predatory smiles greet him in excess before he’s even finished turning to face them again. A thought passes through the haze in his oxygen-starved brain that he’s about to be eaten alive, consumed whole and used up so thoroughly that there will be nothing left. It’s so asinine that for a brief instant mounting distress gives way to sharp disgust at the momentary lapse of rationality.

A light hand settles on his shoulder, and Tony’s entire body tenses under the phantom weight of a much heavier grip. Someone else used to know how to spot the onset of his little outbursts once. A friend, a desperately trusted father figure, or so he had deluded himself into thinking once because he had wanted that, had wanted anyone to notice when he was trapping himself inside his own brain again and maybe even to care enough to bring him back down to earth when he did.

Panic seizes Tony’s heart in an iron grip, and it feels like Obie’s hands inside him.

Natasha looks up at him, but he doesn’t catch the expression on her face, eyes zeroing in on the spot where he had just set his empty cup down. On the table, someone has helpfully cleared the glass and set down a complimentary martini on the corner of a napkin.

It’s all a blur of a crashing martini glass and his own breath and blood loud in his ears and his body on autopilot getting him the hell out of there because yes, yes this is bad but if he doesn’t leave now it’s going to be worse. Vodka drips down his hand as he practically runs out of the hall back to the refuge of their hotel suite and he hasn’t even thought about the consequences, the damage control until he hears Natasha’s voice light and unbothered and a second later a round of raucous laughter from the crowd he’d just had eating out of the palm of his hand and then the door slams shut behind him and all he thinks about is the path back to the hotel.

When Natasha slips into their rooms later that night, Tony doesn’t waste any time deploying his own damage control strategy, but not so he can manage appearances in front of the men waiting to pounce on him once more on the expo floor. He can’t really bring himself to care less about keeping up appearances with them, and it won’t matter after tonight, anyway.

“I’m going back to the helicarrier. I’ll be much more useful there running surveillance and the suit is always available in case you need it.”

Natasha tilts her head and raises one eyebrow pointedly as she silently considers Tony’s words for a moment.

“No.” She says firmly, with a tone that would have ended the discussion before it even began were she not talking to a man whose stubbornness was outmatched only by the magnitude of his lack of self-preservation.

“Excuse me?” There’s just the slightest edge of panic to Tony’s voice, but even that small crack is threatening to collapse the entire facade.

“I need you here. There’s no other part of this mission where you’d be more useful.”

“That really isn’t your call to make,” Tony says brusquely, getting up from where he had been sitting in their lounge and walking over to face the view of the nighttime city skyline as it shines through the massive windows.

“It’s not yours either. I wouldn’t have taken this mission if I didn’t know you could do it, Stark.”

“Why?!” Tony bursts out, expression crumbled when he spins around to meet her head-on. “What changed Natasha? Two years ago, YOU said I was a liability, so what exactly has changed?” His chest is heaving with the effort of catching a breath, eyes wild and body frozen still against the backdrop of the city lights, held captive under Natasha’s assessing gaze in a way that’s so much more restricting than even the bounds of social convention he broke to escape the expo floor an hour ago.

For a few, awful seconds, Natasha’s face is totally blank as she stares back at Tony and he wonders desperately for a moment if she’s evaluating him in real-time, if she’s writing the mission debrief in her head right now about how Tony Stark has shown himself unfit for espionage, unfit for combat, unfit for superheroics, unworthy of so much more than just the Iron Man su—

“I did.” Her voice shatters the spiral he had just begun to fall into, sympathy written in the downward tilt of her mouth and the way her eyebrows draw towards each other, wrinkling the skin between them. Tony is so abruptly, acutely aware that this is an emotion she’s choosing to let him see, but unlike the way she had laughed airily at the jokes made by the businessmen at the conference downstairs or their first interactions together when she had still been Natalie, this is not an act. The masks have all dropped.

“What?”

“ I changed. I made the wrong call about you.” She slowly makes her way over to him.

Tony breathes out an incredulous laugh, one hand coming up to rub his face. “You’re really going to try and convince me that I’m not everything you wrote in your report to Fury? After what you saw down there?” The words are quiet in the still air between them.

“What did I see? Tell me why I was right.” She raises one hand to lower his from his face, not letting it go once she does.

“Isn’t it obvious? This… all the— the schmoozing and the grandstanding and the— God, the weapons. It’s like I never even left the industry, it all comes back so easily. That’s who I am, who I was raised to be. You saw it down there, I know you did. Please don’t— don’t lie to me.” He swallows heavily around the last admission, the unspoken again echoing louder than if he had just said it.

“I don’t know,” Natasha starts, a small smile forming on her gorgeous red-painted lips. The shade matches the color of the tie Tony wore today. She had hidden a microphone in the knot before they left earlier this afternoon. “Doesn’t seem like it comes all that easily to you. I imagine we’d still be down there schmoozing and grandstanding together if it did.”

A beat of silence passes before Tony breaks into a startled grin, Natasha’s smile growing in response to his. “I always forget that making jokes is something you do,” he admits, chuckling softly.

“Looks like we’ve still got a lot to learn about each other then.”

“Guess so,” the words just shy of a whisper as he finally pulls his hand from Natasha’s gentle hold and breaks their gaze to look away.

“Tony,” she says, resting one hand on his cheek to gently guide him back. “The man on this mission? That isn’t you. Maybe it was, once, but I know it isn’t now because I see you choose to be better than him every day. To do better than him. That’s who you are: the choice you make, over and over, every day, to be better.” Her eyes flicker away for just a fraction of a second, almost imperceptibly, if Tony hadn’t been hanging on to her every word, eyes fixed on hers. “And I… I wouldn’t hold yourself responsible for the person you were raised to be.”

He takes in a shuddering breath, unsure how he found himself here without any of his social armor. How Natasha disarmed him of his usual tactics, avoidance and distraction and redirection, he isn’t quite sure. But there’s a trust he feels blossoming in his chest as she cradles his head in her hand that pushes fear at bay, and he knows he should be wary, trusting the spy, but there’s a haunted edge to her expression that makes Tony think that, for once, perhaps he isn’t the one who stands to lose the most if he falls headlong into trusting.

“It’s too much,” he admits, “pretending to be who I was. It— it reminds me of Obie, and drinking, and… it’s just a lot. A lot to deal with alone.”

The corners of her eyes wrinkle tenderly as she smiles warmly at him. “It’s an act, Tony. You know this. You’re the only person who can do it, exactly because you’ve done it before, for so long. You fooled me didn’t you?”

His lips quirk up at the quip, he imagines that he’ll never quite get over how bizarre it is to hear Natasha banter with him like this, but it doesn’t much matter as long as he gets to experience the delight of her humor again.

“And Tony?”

“Yes?”

“I promise you, you’re not alone anymore.”

—

as far as the steve b-plot goes i’m thinking that steve would initially be feeling a sort of vague discomfort that he can’t quite pin down a reason for so he eventually just decides ‘oh you know what Nat is right and i’m probably feeling lonely and should try dating again after this mission is over’. but then he starts to see tony and nat acting more and more comfortable and affectionate and intimate with each other during the expo in a way that feels…. not so fake anymore and discomfort intensifies into a weird sort of frustration and anger and ultimately he realizes it’s jealousy and he spends a few days stewing in the helicarrier watching tony dazzle natasha in front of god and probably some villains and everyone else on the expo floor and he’s like this is so weird am i jealous of tony?? I don’t like nat like that she’s a great friend but i only see her as a friend and then one day on the ninth day of his latest shift because he’s started insisting to clint that he extend his rotations (clint is very on board with this bc as far as missions go this is literally a cakewalk to him & Nat and he promptly peaces out to go raise his secret family) steve’s watching the surveillance footage of the expo and he sees tony laughing so genuinely as he and natasha demonstrate an iron man gauntlet and he’s so enamored by tony’s joy and the way he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips together into a smile because he physically can’t contain his amusement and his laugh lines deepen so beautifully and he’s like oh. OH. i’m not jealous of tony i’m jealous of NATASHA. Because she gets to make tony laugh like that and touch him and be his and it’s all for a mission of course it is but what if it isn’t?? Because steve’s never seen tony laugh like that before and that was all for natasha and cue steve-centric shenanigans as he works through his gay pining for tony stark while simultaneously convincing himself that tony and natasha are now in a real relationship and angsting over that too. i feel like this would eventually resolve itself by nat and tony somehow getting themselves in danger as they finally hone in on their target and steve has to go save them and he’s carrying a bruised and bloodied tony stark out of his makeshift prison and tony is so delirious with gratitude that he kisses steve and steve feels guilty about THAT bc even though he’s elated he’s like ‘oh naur :( tony is cheating on my best close friend natasha with me and how could i do this to her’ meanwhile natasha is completely oblivious to this whole pity party steve is throwing himself and tony has literally been asleep in a hospital bed for 17 hours and thinks he dreamed that kiss when he wakes up steve thinks he’s in a love triangle but it’s literally all in his head bc he’s an emotionally constipated idiot but damn it if he isn’t tony’s emotionally constipated idiot

#if it's all the same to you i'm going to hang on to your 1872 ask a bit longer :)#signed sealed delivered #meidui #tony stark #natasha romanoff #mcu #meta #fic!#evwrites #scribbles #tonynat #plus a dash of #stevetony #bc it's me and of course there's stevetony

37 notes · View notes