#but yes. I will pick out a few reels for tonight while i've got some sketches ready!

[janebonbon]

Just a little warning that there will be an art stream tonight! I'm going to push it back to 8pm EST because I want to have time to unpack some delivered groceries!

[bearcina]

Rum and Nuka-Cola

An explicit Yes Man/Courier Six fanfic.

(AO3)

(Prev) (Next)

Finally, a day where she can drink and have all the chems she needed to forget all about her messy feelings. A few drinks, a night out at the Atomic Wrangler, and finishing off the evening with more liquor and all the chems she wanted.

Elisavet sat alone at the bar in the cocktail lounge of the Lucky 38, sipping a shallow glass of lukewarm whiskey over the better part of the past hour. She rested her elbows on the cool counter, trying to work up the courage to leave the casino. She sat back up and took a deep swig of the burning liquid, finishing off the last of the glass. Eugh. Maybe she shouldn’t have just grabbed the cheapest bottle from that caravan last week.

She uncorked her bottle again, poured another shallow drink of the shitty whiskey. She took a sip of it, holding back a sigh. She had to go, before she ended up drunk, trying to play blackjack against Yes Man and attempting to write code and flirt with him through the footnotes. A favorite pastime… but not one she needed now. 

Elisavet checked the clock, and the evening was still young. She clicked on her radio, and picked up her heavy leather duster. She slipped it on, downed the last of her drink... 

Like a warm blanket settling around her shoulders, the thick leather brought her a false comfort. It was fine, everything was fine. She was Courier Six, lady luck, the ruler of the Strip.

And just like that, she slipped right back into being the Courier Six she was before Hoover Dam. Before she realized she loved him. Before they went to war to protect the future of New Vegas. The future they had together.

She forced up a smile, and looked at Yes Man's camera in the room. 

Elisavet took a deep breath and finally spoke, "I'm going out to the Atomic Wrangler, I'll be back in a few hours. May as well go check on the Garrett twins and mingle with the locals." Her own voice felt foreign to her as it fell from her lips. The careful, practiced line, feeling nothing more than that. A line she had to deliver to her partner, to obviously skim the details out of the way, a thin facade of words to keep the barrier between them.  

Yes Man came in over the intercom just a moment later, with his typical line right in tow.

"Of course! Don't have too much fun with Beatrix!" Yes Man chimed, unusually chipper to hear she was leaving. Their typical exchange… but he continued, "I've got some very minor updates to do tonight, and you've got that dinner at the Ultra-Luxe tomorrow! Go relax and recharge!" 

Elisavet faltered, her steady persona falling from her and leaving her mind reeling like she had gotten zapped. She nodded after a moment. 

"Oh! Well, good luck with the update... I won't stay out long, then." She said, absently, responding before her mind caught up. She called the elevator and rode it down to the casino floor. She waved goodbye at the cameras inside, then slipped out the door. 

They had backup security systems that ran independently of the mainframe. Yes Man wouldn't take a major risk without her. She wouldn't stay out too long. It would be fine. 

Something twisted in her stomach as she quickly started down the steps to the road… she didn't like leaving while he was updating, and he knew that… but… he seemed happy that she was going out for once, and didn't ask any questions. She briskly walked past the Securitrons at the bottom, and past the many rolling around on patrols. 

…Maybe she was just overthinking. She wouldn’t be gone long enough for someone to find out where she really was and overthrow their place while they were both busy… Right?

Elisavet held her breath as she walked through the Strip, passing between the Securutrons on patrol. It sent a cold chill down her metallic spine, the once comforting presence of their cameras now shameful as she walked towards Freeside. 

She passed through the security checkpoint without any trouble, the group of Securitrons letting her pass through the gates as soon as she stopped in front of them. 

She felt a little exposed without him at her side. They usually left together. 

She palmed her side to check for her plasma defender nervously. The last time she went out to the Wrangler alone was a mess. She was ambushed while she was passing through Freeside… a thug sneaked up on her, pressing a dirty machete to her throat and dragging her into a back alley, then into the back of a rusted mail van once the Securitrons started looking. 

A whole mess once Yes Man figured out she wasn’t returning on schedule. It was a very… inspiring… show of strength from him.

She never knew that a Securitron could rip a guy limb-from-limb until she saw it with her own two eyes. Quite a lot of blood, especially considering how small the group was.  

She walked silently through Freeside, a mix of dread and an eager anxiety pooling in her stomach. She glanced left and right, weaving through stragglers walking towards her haven, and the robots protecting it all. 

There was always the chance of getting caught. She hated that it was something she needed to worry about.

Elisavet shoved that thought to the back of her mind as she passed through the door to the busy casino. She walked up to the bar, and took her favorite seat at the end closest to the door. James was working tonight, thankfully. She won’t be heckled or watched, then. She smiled a little tensely, setting her shoulders and adjusting her posture. Letting Six slip back over her, just like she did every time she had to do something so nerve-wracking like this.

“Ah, evenin’, James…” Elisavet greeted bashfully. “How about a few shots of that mid-shelf whiskey I like?” She asked politely, trying to keep calm and act smooth. James nodded, with a quiet chuckle. He pulled out a clean shot glass, and an almost-empty bottle of whiskey off a high shelf behind him. 

“‘Evening, Elisavet. You look nervous, take too much psycho again?” He asked her with a teasing smile, setting the small glass and the bottle on the bar between them. 

Elisavet chuckled, “No, not yet. Just been a little heavy-handed at pouring my drinks at home.” She rolled her eyes, leaning against the bar. The male Garrett twin laughed, pouring her up a shot of the expensive liquor. 

“Ah, guess that’s why you could walk in here in a mostly straight line, then!” He laughed as he teased her, sliding over the shot glass and setting the bottle down. “Go ahead and have the rest of this,” he slid the mostly-empty bottle towards her, “It’s not much, but you look like you need it.” 

Elisavet nodded, her smile threatening to drop. 

“Yeah, I do. Can't stand drinking at home like this.” She said quietly, grimly. She was still going to pay generously for the few shots left in the bottle, and leave a hefty tip. “It’s been a busy week, business has been really booming. Can’t seem to get my paperwork in order.” She said, groaning at the thought of all the paperwork she still had to do when she got home. She quickly downed her shot, and quietly set the glass back on the bar, nudging it back to the space between them. James nodded, and half-shrugged. 

“Lots of people have been coming through Freeside recently, there’s been a lot of customers because of it.” He said, pouring Elisavet another shot. “Some of them have even been making good use of our joint investments.”

Elisavet sighed in relief, relaxing a little at the good news. Business for them meant more business to the Strip later… they never seem to stop at just the Wrangler if they come all this way.

“The Strip is absolutely packed with visitors at all hours of the day and night now.” Elisavet groaned. “I can hardly find any time to relax and take a break from the paperwork and meetings.” She picked up the shot and downed it almost as quickly as the first one. It was a really nice aged whiskey, smooth, and didn't burn too much on the way down. Would’ve paired well with a cold soda if she was back home in the cocktail lounge. She scanned the room, trying to take stock of all the people in the building. It was very busy tonight. 

The ghoul on stage still joked with the crowd eagerly, with nearly every table packed. In the gaming hall, she could see the busy tables. No room at the blackjack tables for her, nor at the roulette tables… and she didn't want to see a show. Perfect atmosphere to slip away unnoticed. 

“Ahh… I don’t have a lot of time before I have to get back to work, so how much for the whiskey?” Elisavet asked, already reaching for her bag of caps. 

“For you? Twenty caps.” James answered, shrugging. “You bring in plenty of business, so I'll let you have that aged whiskey at the same price as your usual, twenty caps for it all.” 

Elisavet counted out the aforementioned twenty caps, then another ten. She handed it all over, trying to keep her face set in a neutral expression, to not betray the butterflies in her stomach and the anxiety pooling alongside it. 

“Elisavet, just twenty is fine.” James chuckled, taking the first twenty, leaving most of the ten extra remaining in the middle of the bar between them. Elisavet shook her head, and nudged the caps closer to him. She smiled tensely, and gave him a wink. “Don’t worry about it, just take the caps. You're always listening to my worries, I just want to show some of my appreciation.” She said quietly, quickly, nudging them the final distance to him, and quickly getting up from her seat. She downed the last drops of expensive liquor in the bottle, and tucked the empty bottle in her pocket. 

James gave her a somewhat kind, knowing smile as she slipped away from the bar after her customary few shots of whiskey and small talk about business. She mustered up a wink for him, the only person in the entirety of the two cities combined who knew anything about her unusual preference in lovers.

Elisavet cleaned up and redressed after a very short nap to regain some of the feeling in her legs, then fixed her hair. She took a deep drink of water from her canteen, and left the Wrangler soon after without more than a half-smile and a wave to James as she walked out the front door. 

As she passed back into the Strip silently in the late night, her legs somehow still numb and quivering, she felt somewhat satisfied. Mostly guilt, though. 

Securitrons turned to watch her walk through the busy road. She weaved through drunken gamblers and tourists in the neon light, her gait unsteady and mind just as distracted as those around her. He was watching. Waiting for her to return. The pool of twisted feelings fermented in the pit of her stomach. She was disappointing him, running away from her feelings to come shamefully shuffling back late in the night to drink it all away again.

Elisavet stopped outside the casino door, avoiding looking at the security cameras and Securitrons. Guilt pooled in her stomach and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she lingered there in front of the doors. Her hand on the heavy handle, lost in her own mind again.

She needed to run away from it all. Run from those messy, complicated feelings that weighed in her gut like a lead ball. You can’t run from love. 

She really, really, needed another drink. And some chems.

She can’t run away from love, but she can sure as hell try to drown and smother it out with all the alcohol and chems her caps can buy. She pulled open the heavy metal door to the 38 wordlessly, and quickly ducked into the familiar safe haven.

As the door slides shut behind her and engulfs her in the silence and darkness of the unused casino floor, she can’t possibly bring herself to say anything to her watching companion. She slowly took the few steps up to the elevator in the center of the casino, and softly clicked the button to go up, feeling every camera in the room turn and follow her on her walk of shame up to the cocktail lounge. 

She couldn't say anything, not even a quip or a lie about the time she was gone.  Elisavet kept her head down during the ride up to the lounge, leaning awkwardly against the metal of the elevator. Her legs were still weak, and getting weaker with the anxiety building up in her stomach. 

She heard an awkward burst of static come over the intercom when she reached her destination. Did Yes Man want to say anything? Greet her? 

Nothing was said.

Hopefully he just hadn’t finished updating. He just had to still be offline. He couldn’t see her like this.

Elisavet hastily reached into her pocket and pulled out her dented tin of mentats. She popped one into her mouth, her mouth set into a tight frown as it fizzed and dissolved in her mouth. Her stomach started to calm, the fermenting dread and anxiety starting to return to a state she could continue to ignore. 

The elevator doors shuddered open with a quiet ding!

Elisavet held in a shudder of her own as she passed into the dark lounge, not bothering to turn on the overhead lights-- just illuminated from the Vegas lights outside the windows and the faint amber glow of the Pip-Boy strapped to her arm. 

Still silent. The only noise in the room was the hum of electricity and electronics, and the rushing wind outside the windows. She lingered in the short hallway between the elevator and the room, listening to the ambiance of it all. The familiar noise of the cocktail lounge. Quiet. Alone. Peaceful.

Elisavet first went behind the bar, and picked a pretty green glass cup from the shelf built into the back wall. Next, Alcohol. 

Whatever alcohol she could put her hands on first sounded like a good drink. She fumbled blindly under the bar and grabbed the first bottle her hand touched. A long, cold glass bottle, very heavy, felt completely full. She pulled it out and put it on the counter beside the cup, and hummed appreciatively at the worn, dusty label. Very expensive rum. That was much more than fine. She wanted to forget that the whole day had even happened. Nothing better to do it with than the best of House’s old liquor stash. She took a few steps farther behind the counter towards a humming fridge, and opened it up to find a few of her stashed Nuka-Colas-- there was even a new bottle of Nuka-Cola Victory there, with a note taped to it. Eliavet reached out and slowly peeled the note from the glass bottle, turning to hold it in the light of the fridge.

Hi there! 

Thought you might like these cold, it's not often you pick up such a rare Nuka-Cola here!

Love,

Yes Man

Elisavet chuckled, her heart skipping a beat at the tender sign-off, a bittersweet thing. He was always doing the little things she appreciated the most. She didn’t even know she had a Nuka-Cola Victory, and here it was at her favorite drinking spot, ice-cold and dripping condensation. He had even signed the note with a sweet “Love, Yes Man.” He was the only robot she knew that ever signed off letters to her like that. 

He was always doing little things for her. Making sure she had a cold Nuka-Cola hiding somewhere, printing out little reminders for her, making sure she eats at least once a day… and that was just the little stuff. 

Elisavet smiled fondly. She folded the note into squares and put it in her breast pocket where she usually kept the Platinum Chip. She took the ice-cold vaguely-glowing red-orange soda, then shut the fridge with a soft click. She popped the cap off the bottle with a quick flick, dropped it in her pocket, and slowly made her way around the bar to scope out a perfect seat for people-watching. She walked around the circular room leisurely, peering through the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows at the wasteland beyond. Eventually, she found her favorite seat with the best view of the Strip.

Elisavet set her bottles down on the counter and fixed a drink. Rum and Nuka, with a side of mentats. She walked to her seat facing the window and made herself somewhat comfortable, quickly taking off her beloved leather duster and tossing it haphazardly onto the seat beside her... And she set herself to consuming her alcohol. 

She sipped the first drink for what felt like forever, listening to the wind pound against the windows. She eventually finished what she had poured herself, and stood up to make another.

She stumbled on the few steps back to where she left the rum and half a bottle of Nuka on the countertop, then returned to her perch and empty cup. She poured another drink, and contemplated if it was even a good idea. She had already had quite a few drinks today; some before leaving, more while she was gone, and now she was drinking again after coming back. Add to that two mentats now…

Didn't really matter at this point anyway, did it? 

She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed deeply. She opened her eyes and sipped her drink, then clicked on the radio to break the crushing silence. Mr. New Vegas was leading into a song… and it felt just alright. 

She leaned back into the couch and watched the Strip. Patrons just as drunk as she was littered the street. Securitrons patrolled, nudging the drunk bystanders towards the gates or towards an accommodating casino... Many of them being ushered to places where she would reap some of the reward. 

Elisavet sipped her drink again, watching a drunkard fall over and get tripped over by their group of friends. She gripped her glass tightly, her leather gloves creaking against the glass. She felt alone. More alone than she had felt in a while. 

But… was she really alone? Yes Man was technically always there now.

…He was only a word away. They could talk, play some cards, and just… enjoy eachothers company.

But she couldn't do it. 

She couldn't stand to think of it. He would have to see her all fucked out and drunk like this... Which couldn't have been worse than any of the times he found her naked and chemmed out of her mind, admittedly. She took a long drink and closed her eyes and sighed again. Wondering if she should say anything about it.

Maybe get it on out there. Might make them both feel better-- ease his worries, and soothe her all-consuming guilt.

No, no she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t say anything about any of it.

She really didn’t want to confront those messy feelings right now. 

Elisavet opened her eyes again, and took a swig of her cocktail. She set her cup down on the small table in front of her, wondering if she could do anything to feel any more… normal. Less like she was going to break from all the emotions churning in her. Another drink? Another Mentat? Maybe some Jet? 

Another Mentat would help. Even if it wouldn’t do anything but make her feel smarter and giggly.

She fumbled with the metal tin again, pulled out another small, off-white, chalky tablet. She popped it in her mouth, and washed it away with a sip of her sweet cocktail before the bitter medicine could touch her tongue. She put the tin down with the rest of the bottle on the table, leaving it open so she could grab another later. 

Elisavet hummed to the radio, a good song starting up. She shut her eyes, sipping her drink again. She was alone after all… what would it matter if she started singing to the radio? She smiled, chuckling as the words started to spill from her mouth. 

Blue Moon was playing on the radio, Sinatra’s voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves.

“Blue Moon… You saw me standing alone…”

She frowned, she was still alone. Wasn’t she? She hadn’t had anyone but herself and her gun since she had been pulled from her grave, and everything before that was a painful blurry mess that she didn’t have the courage to pursue. She didn’t want to, either. She wanted what she had now, even if that had come painfully, and with side effects that she still felt every day. 

Elisavet sipped her drink. 

Alone. Without a dream, without love. Without that fuzzy memory of a redheaded girl. “Without a dream in my heart… Without a love of my own…” She quietly vocalized to the song, her heart singing along.

She was alive. The platinum chip was secure and in her possession, she had a safe home with electricity and heating in the winter, and a… a friend. But, still, her dreams had been achieved, and she didn’t know what to do but seek out what little happiness she could find. Gambling. Liquor. Chems. Bounty hunting.

 She chuckled at her bittersweet fortune as Mr. New Vegas broke over the radio again, a quick witty one-liner about the next set of songs to break her from her spiraling thoughts.

She kept sipping her drink, humming along to the instrumental. Well.. maybe she could sing the next one, just singing that one line had felt nice. Somehow, it let out some of that building pressure of stress in her soul.

Before long, the song ended and Elisavet noticed her cup was empty again, and sighed. She poured another two shots into her cup, and the last of her soda over the top. 

“How lucky can one guy be?” Elisavet sang quietly, just barely loud enough for her to hear herself over the radio on her arm, “I kissed her and she kissed me…” She continued, letting her head loll back and rest on the back of her seat. 

“Like the fella once said… ‘ain’t that a kick in the head?’” 

She continued to sing to the song, her voice slowly getting louder and more confident the longer she did. 

One song became two, then two became three… Song after song, drink after drink, she continued to sing and watch the Strip below, her worries finally melting away as she relaxed for the first time in a long time. Eventually, her eyes slipped shut, and the last line fell from her lips before sleep claimed her.

“Blue moon… Now I’m no longer alone…”

The unforgiving darkness crept into her and she fell asleep on the couch, her body relaxing and forcing her to rest after quite a few too many drinks and drunken songs. 

Cold metal wrapped around her upper torso, lifting her from her uncomfortable position. The world shifted, and with it her stomach... Elisavet groaned weakly, her eyes pinching shut, ready for the bout of vertigo to pass. Did she even have anything in her stomach to throw up? 

…urk… Better not think of food.

Elisavet groaned again, much quieter though. Her stomach churned violently as the world spun around her. She reached out clumsily to find the ground, but didn’t find anything but air and quite a lot of metal, and some glass.

…metal? Glass?? Were those buttons?

Warmth pressed against her entire right side, and a faint fuzz tickled her neck and face. She hummed appreciatively, nuzzling into the source of the warmth. It was unwavering, steady, keeping her anchored as her senses swam. Definitely metal and glass. Like a…

“Mmgh…” She moaned weakly, pained, nauseous. “Yessie?” She asked quietly, trying to crack open just one eye a fraction just to try and see what was happening. No, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t open her eyes. She frowned, but pressed deeper against the unrelenting metal, finding it to be comfortingly warm. It had to be him. That just-barely-off clicking of a failing drive… 

“I promise… I’ll… find a new drive. Soon.” She muttered, fumbling to pat him, but.. It must have been more of a weak pet than a pat because she didn’t get a response. “I… ‘magine that doesn’t feel right. Bet it’s…” 

She yawned, losing her thought. Warmer, again. He was getting warmer. Was that his fans turning on higher? Elisavet smiled, and nuzzled into the soft fuzzy feeling. Her nose met glass, and she smiled more as warmth spread across her cheeks.

“Heheh… Your fans turned up higher…” she giggled to herself. She pressed deeper into the glass, smiling and giggly. She was still being held tightly, being moved to somewhere. It would be somewhere safe, it always was. 

Time was passing strangely. It shouldn’t take long to go to any of her rooms in the building, but it felt like she was being held for a long time. It was comfortable, though. Warm, unyielding. The sound of his drives clicking was hypnotizing, lulling her in and out of a light sleep for what felt like hours. 

[quirkdotcom]

The Arrangement //

Shoto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Part One: The Mall Incident

Part Two

Summary: Your father is a particularly strong pro hero, and owns his own agency, however, he seemingly has picked an opportunity for you to be the tie between his agency, and pro hero Endeavor's agency.

Authors Note:

One; I'm planning this to be a three part fic, my next update hopefully on Friday May 15th ! Let me know if you'd like to be on this specific taglist, or even a taglist for anything I post !

Two; I wanted to have a little fun in this, so I added in an OC of mine! I made the reader attend an unnamed school, where her friends wouldn't be main characters from MHA, and decided to throw in Maiko (my OC) anyways, I hope you enjoy !

"A student from UA? Is father okay? I thought he hated that school?" You had to stop yourself, had you really heard your mother right?

She sighed heavily, shaking her head slightly, "He does, however, your father is willing to look past the fact as long as everything goes according to plan" 

This time, it was your turn to sigh.

This 'plan' was one of you meeting some student, your parents meeting, and at the end of the day, agreeing to a marriage after graduation.

You knew that you really had no choice in the matter, which is why you had never put up a fight about it, but it didn't mean that you were particularly happy about it.

Quietly, you stood up, excusing yourself from the table and your mother, leaving the dainty tea cup where it sat.

"Well, since the meeting with this student will be this weekend, I'm going to go out and buy an outfit for it." You bowed your head slightly before turning and leaving the room.

Now out of sight of your mother, you stretched, stifling a yawn as you made your way to your room, grabbing your phone from your pocket, sending a quick message to your closest friend, asking if she'd accompany you to the mall.

The two of you attended a private academy focused on teaching it's students to not only strengthen their quirks, or accelerate their academics, but also in etiquette and manners. Everything was about being proper and elite.

It was the very same school that your father had transferred to after his time at UA.

You personally didn't quite like it there, at times some students tried to pick on you, or the teachers would reprimand you for even the slightest mistake.

But, just like the marriage arrangement, you had no choice in what school you attended, your father was hellbent on you following his steps, and staying the hell away from UA.

Regardless, you had eventually made some friends, and for the first few years, you scored in the top of your class.

"Oh, (Y/n) while you're out, would you mind picking up a few things for me?" Your mother's voice rang out from behind your door, breaking your train of thoughts.

"Just make me a list, and leave it on the counter!" 

It didn't take long for you to change out of your uniform and into something comfier, or for you to grab your messenger style purse, or to find the list from your mother. With your father gone, there were no distractions or unnecessary lectures.

What took the most time was getting to the mall. You could have driven, but it was nice out, the sky was clear of clouds, and there was a light breeze that flowed through the leaves in the trees.

So, you took to walking. Though, when you got to the mall, your best friend was standing with her arms crossed and a bored look on her face.

"(Y/N)! There you are! I've been waiting for hours!" She gave a dramatic sigh as you walked over.

"Calm down Maiko ! " you chuckled, she was almost always over dramatic, something that had drawn you to her in the first place.

She gave you a playful wink, and nodded her head to the doors, starting to walk inside, "Whatever, we both know that I can't calm down," she paused, giving small jazz hands, "I've got constant anxiety" 

"Ah, the curse of having a third eye quirk," You followed behind, then moved to the side of her. 

"Oh! What's the occasion for today's trip?" Maiko tucked a piece of light brown hair behind her ear, eyeing you as she waited for a response.

You hesitated, she still didn't know about the whole arranged marriage, and it had been about a month since you had found out.

"Oh...my family and I are meeting another family for some business thing, so I needed to get a new outfit in case they have a son or daughter our age, " You spouted off a lie, knowing that she'd fall for it, only because she trusted you.

"Ooooh another potential merger for your dad's hero agency?" 

You nodded, pausing as your stomach gave a quiet rumble. 

Despite the lunch you were having with your mother earlier, you didn't really eat. 

"Hey, let's get something to eat first," You point to the nearest food outlet.

Before you know it, Maiko and you are each tossing fries to the other, both failing to catch most in your mouth, but you are having a good time regardless.

Once out of fries, you and her are left with your milkshakes, hers chocolate, and your's strawberry. Something kind of impulsive as you haven't had one strawberry flavored in a few years.

"Hey, I think we could probably take these with us to go look for an outfit," Maiko picks hers up, already a third of it gone.

With a nod, you stand up, grabbing your shake and bag, waiting for Maiko before heading off to your favorite store.

"Hey what about this?" She held up a pleated, light blue skirt, it would stop just above your knees, and complimented you very well, "It even has real pockets!"

"And I could wear it with this shirt...and maybe the jean jacket we found earlier?" You smiled happily, holding up a plain white t-shirt, a small v neck cut, nothing too extreme but not too plain.

Your friend placed the skirt into your basket, and you followed suit with the shirt. All that was needed now, would be to grab the jean jacket from earlier.

However, as you turned, you ran into a...hard surface and along with you, came your half finished milkshake.

You stumbled back, eyes wide as you realized what had just happened.

"Oh my gosh, I am so-"

But the male cut you off, his voice monotone as he did, "Save it, just move out of the way, I need to clean my shirt," 

You quietly moved to the side, watching as the moody stranger walked away, leaving you and Maiko to recover.

He had red hair...well only half of his hair was red, and the other half was white, leaving you to wonder how much hair dye it had taken to get it to look so perfect. 

"Well...I wish I could've helped you see that coming...but uh..I got the jacket?" She smiled sheepishly, causing you to let out a nervous laugh, releasing the tension you didn't know you had.

"Okay, cmon lets go pay!" You turned, still reeling from the encounter with that guy..but hey, at least you wouldn't be seeing him again! 

So, with that thought in mind, Maiko and yourself brought your chosen outfit to the front counters, paid and left the store.

"Hey, are you doing anything tonight?" You turned to Maiko after some five minutes, a thought in the back of your mind, nagging at you since you had left the house to meet her. 

"I don't think so! Why, is your mom cooking tonight? Anything she makes is always better than your dads...or yours," she poked her tongue out at you.

"Wha?! Hey! Im not that bad of a cook!" You pouted and crossed your arms, turning away from her, "Well I did have something to tell you but now its not happening," 

She immediately moved in front of you, "Wait no! Your cooking is good! Just tell me the news!" 

"It'll have to wait for my house, it's kind of big news…"

And with that, the two of you set off for your house, Maiko calling her mom and letting her know where she'd be for the night. 

The walk was spent talking about anything and everything, and at one point Maiko tripping and you having to catch her, but hey, that's what friends are for. 

As you approached your house, you spotted your fathers car in the driveway, causing you to screw your face up in dread. 

Hopefully he didn't have a lecture for you, especially if Maiko was here. You had always hated how he seemed to pick on you whenever your friends were over.

And much to your dismay, when you walked inside he met you with a sour look, "(Y/n), where have you been? Don't forget about this weekend's meeting, not to mention the exams coming up," 

You bit back a response about how the exams were two months away, and instead just nodded your head, busying yourself with slipping your shoes off, "I was buying a new outfit for our meeting. I told mother before I left."

He paused, now eyeing you and Maiko, "And came home with...Fujino was it?" 

She nodded, even though she practically lived at your house for a week at a time due to the amount of sleep overs you had, your father had barely bothered to remember her name. 

"Im sorry for not telling you ahead of time, Sir." She bowed her head slightly, only really apologizing because she knew that if she didn't, it would come down on you. 

"Make your way to (Y/n)'s room, I still need to have a few words with her," he commanded, waiting for her to go up the stairs before he continued.

"And (Y/n), do not forget how important this marriage arrangement is. The Todoroki family is powerful, Endeavor is rising in his ranks as a hero, and his son will follow suit. You have to make sure that you are seen as exemplary, no mistakes can be made. Do you understand?" 

You paused, heart hanging heavy, "Yes father…" 

Once he let you go, you made your way to the top of the stairs, seeing that Maiko was waiting for you, a worried look in her eyes, "So...a marriage proposal?" 

"Welcome to the news I had for you…" 

You two moved into your room, the bag of clothes dropped onto the floor, and you climbed onto your bed, grabbing an orange bunny plush, hugging it to your chest.

"Okay so I wanted to tell you about the arrangement but...I dunno, its hard. I'm having my choice taken away from me and for what? So my father and this other hero to have a more powerful agency?" 

"(Y/n)...im so sorry that you've been going through this alone. I'm here for you, whatever you need!" She moved to a swinging chair you had, sitting in it carefully as she thought for a moment, "So, you've never met this guy or his family?" 

"At most I know his family name. But Im too busy focusing on school work to pay attention to how his father is "So high up the ranks" or whatever. Its like my father thinks that this 'Endeavor' guy is the number two pro hero or something…" You puffed out a breath of air, pursing your lips as you thought quietly. 

Maiko stared at you for a few minutes, blinking a few times as she tried to break the news to you. 

"Uhh..Endeavor...as in Enji Todoroki?" 

You looked up, nodding quietly at her puzzled look. 

"(Y/n) he is the number two hero...or wait..if All Might retired a few years back... then number one actually!" She hummed as she herself started to think but eventually shook her head, eyes widening. 

Maiko quickly pulled out her phone, typing hurriedly into it and gasping, "(Y/n) wait! His son goes to UA! His son is reportedly one of the Big Three of his class!" She stopped, scrolling, "uh oh…" 

At this, you scrambled from your spot to her, pulling the phone from her hand to look at what the cause of this 'uh oh' was. 

It was a picture.  A picture of Endeavour's son. He had red and white hair, and a glare so deadly it probably would kill someone on sight. 

But what got you more was the fact that this was the guy from the mall earlier.  You had totally spilled a strawberry shake all over the number one hero's son, and the guy who you would be marrying after graduation. 

"This is...this is fucked. Im so screwed! Not only did I embarrass myself but now I've probably made it seem like im a clumsy girl who likes to shop all the time and now this...Todoroki guy is going to tell his father about me and then it'll ruin the arrangement and my father will kill me." You spouted off more worries until Maiko grabbed your shoulders, shaking you lightly.

"Hey! We aren't planning your funeral yet! Maybe we can meet up with him before you have to meet with his dad! I think I know one of the students at UA!" 

You looked to her, your breathing returning to normal as you nodded along, maybe that could work after all.

"Okay so, we ask whoever you know to get his number and text him about how it was me who spilled the drink and I wanted to apologize...and that Im also the girl he's meeting this weekend!" 

Maiko punched her fist into the palm of her hand, "Okay, lets set this plan into action! I'll text Kirishima!" 

You eyed her, realizing that you had never questioned how she knew anyone at UA, "While you do that, mind explaining to me about whoever this Kirishima is?" 

She only smiled for a moment, putting her phone down after sending him a message about Todoroki, "Oh! He and I work in the same coffee shop! Not everyone is super rich you know, but he's pretty nice guy, kinda cute too. But, you know how my mom is. Im surprised that she let me be friends with you, I swear, she's scared of anyone!" 

You gave a 'Mhhm' to her, knowing full and well that this was the coworker who she tended to talk about but never named, knowing that you'd probably show up to her work to try and get more information.  But hey, you'd leave it at that for now. 

"Well...I guess that now we wait for Kirishima to hopefully send us Todoroki's number?' 

"Now we wait! And with our good luck, by Wednesday we can smoothen out what happened at the mall…" 

You nodded once, as much as this plan seemed rickety, you were willing to take the chance. While you hated the idea of a marriage to whoever this young hero may be, you know that if you messed it up, your father would never let you live it down. 

[cinnamonrollstark]

Irondad Bingo: Trope: Protective Tony

Wow, thanks for the repost @irondadbingo!! Hope yall like the last one. If you haven't read it yet, do, because this is the second one in this little mini series! Enjoy!

◇◇◇

Peter's been sleeping in Tony's bed. He refuses to leave, get up, or to eat. He's still and unshakable, and hasn't cried since Tony picked him up. It scares the man, even though he knows that greif is different from person to person, he wants Peter to feel free to express what he needs to.

Periodically, Tony comes in with a drink and a snack- neither of which the boy consumes. He's focused on the blue walls of Tony's bedroom, breath still and concentrated.

"Kiddo?" Tony asks at the door, not picking up any real movement from Peter. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Just the slight movement of Peter's head, the almost nonexistent shake of curls. "Okay." He says, crossing the threshold, over to the bed, where he sits next to Pete. He rests a gentle hand between the boy's shoulder blades, sinking with each breath.

No words are enough to fix this. I'm sorries and condolences do nothing to mend him. The only thing that has made the slightest impact of the kid in the past three days is contact. Hugs, ruffles of the hair, and at night, being sandwiched between Tony and Pepper.

Tony was never a snuggler before Pepper, but when he started having nightmares, the warm form of her body molded around his was the only thing that could save him. He understands that now, as he pats Peter's back, occassionally running a hand through his hair. It's a very intimate thing, but in a very innocent way. Intimate in the way a newborn is as it rests against a parent's chest, feeling the heartbeat of a mother or father against their own.

Tony can feel Peter's heart, and he's grateful. Peter is alive. He cannot fathom how he or anyone else might've managed if he'd been with May that morning.

His heart breaks for the child. May was a kind and patient soul, a good mother- even only as a role she'd stepped into, an aunt in a parental set of shoes- and this loss is greater than Tony could ever wish Peter to outlive. He is small and shaky, a child taking his first steps in a world without one of the closest people to him.

Somewhere in another room, CNN drones on, some famous Republican and some famous Democrat arguing over something unimportant. Tragedy puts it all in perspective; everything outside this world is menial, a grain of sand against the asteroid-sized hurt.

"Peter, buddy. You've got to eat something," he whispers, expecting resistance. "I know how this feels, but you are here, Peter, and because you are here, you need to take care of yourself."

Peter rolls sideways against the comforter of the bed and props his head against his hand. His elbow makes a dent in the fabric.

"Okay," he resigns. "Okay. I'll eat."

He doesn't look too enthused, but he accepts Tony's word, and slowly gathers himself up and out of the bed. He stands in front of the blinds, and soft afternoon light creates a halo over his chestnut hair.

Tony watches him from the safety of his pillows and is amazed at his strength. From legs to belly to shoulders to neck, he holds himself upright, and manages to stay that way.

"On one condition," adds Peter, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "we go out somewhere."

°°°

Tony had definitely been suprised by the suggestion, but agreed all the same. They pull up out front and wait a moment before exiting the car. Peter's shaky in his seat, likely nervous about being in a car.

"What is this place?" Asks Tony, because he's lived in this city forever and he's never seen this resteraunt.

"A thai food restaurant. I haven't been in a while."

And Tony's not opposed, because honestly, if he thinks about it, pad thai doesnt sound so bad. When the sit down inside, he notes the lively lighting- bright and colorful. It seems like a great environment to be in tonight, and he feels that it will cheer him up.

They flip through there menus, and although he's not sure why, Tony gets the sense that's something's wrong. Peter frowns at his menu, either in concentration, or maybe he's just upset.

There's an item on the menu he just knows will make Peter laugh, thank god. "Pete," he starts. "Look at this."

Tony flips the menu around and points to the dish, giggling. "I could totally go for some Larb right now, what about you?"

At first Peter smiles, but the expression falters and crumples after a brief second.

"Oh, Peter." Tony grabs his hand across the booth, squeezes the soft skin. "Don't cry, buddy."

He instantly regrets it, although Peter doesn't really seem to mind. He's too focused on reeling it in, but Tony wants to tell him to forget that, to go ahead and cry if he needs to.

Peter wipes his eyes, smearing tears across his cheekbones. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and let's it out. "I'm sorry," he says, hiccuping against the ball in his throat.

"Don't apologize. You do what you need to do."

"I know," sighs Peter, sniffing. "But I don't want to cry right now. I want to feel something other than sad or numb, and that's all I've got right now."

Tony gathers his thoughts for a moment before he knows what to do. Peter's been singing this song, nonstop for the past few months, a relentless tune that plays in the back of Tony's mind whenever he sees the kid.

"What are you doing?" Peter asks in response to Tony stepping up on top of his chair, and then the table.

"I try to say goodbye and I choke," Tony starts. Peter is instantly embarrassed.

"Mr. Stark. Get down."

"I try to walk away and I stumble,"

Peter pinches the bridge of his nose. "Oh my God."

"Though I ate a pie and its clear,"

"Those aren't the words."

"My world crumbles when you are not here!" Tony puts his hands on his hips. "Get up here."

"Tony. No."

"Tony yes. Goodby and I choke," He continues, louder now. By now, a good lot of people are staring. Waiters and waitresses are not amused.

Peter resigns to the fact that he has to join in. He stands on his booth and sings with Tony,

"Try to walk away and I stumble,"

And they're loud, now, probably too loud. Tony continues to sing the incorrect lyrics but Peter adds, "and though I try to hide it, it's clear, my world crumbles when you are not here."

"Sir," says a waiter, hands planted angrily at the small of her back. "I'm going have to ask the two of you to step down and exit the resteraunt."

Tony steps down and holds up a hand. "You finish singing." He looks to the waiter, who is annoyingly taller than him. "Let him sing."

"Sir!" Says the waiter, as Peter finished. "My wo-o-r-ld it crumbles, when you are not here."

When he's done, Pete looks down, satisfied. "Its time the two of you leave. Now."

And that same faltering, from before, that spark of joy that flits out of those big brown eyes, and it's the waiter's fault. Tony's fist rises and plants itself squarely under the man's nose before he can stop it.

As he tries to recover, Tony watches the light filter back into the kids eyes, and he pulls him off the table.

"Let's get out of here," he says, his hand gripped around Peter's exiting the door and laughing as it clinks in goodbye.

When they get to the safety of their car, Peter smiles at him.

"Well," he says, "I certainly didn't larb him."

And he laughs, and it's a glorious sound, a miracle to hear considering recent events. When Tony catches that fleck of golden hope hidden in Peter's irises, he hopes it never fades, and if it does, that he is not the cause.