#i've forgotten more than i've ever read
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gaybabything · 2 months ago
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Dude stockholm syndrome would set in so quick for me it's not even funny
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grandwretch · 1 year ago
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Kirk/Spock has less real basis than Spock/Uhura. Girl, read a book, not fanfiction.
not if you're talking about TOS? like sorry but if you're talking about the original series, then Spock and Uhura have literally two moments in Season One, and then nothing else. neither of which include Spock being interested in Uhura, btw. and then Uhura like... moves on? She gives up? She's implicated in the movies to be with Scotty instead?
Like, if you want to say that Spock has a canon female love interest, then Chapel is a much more compelling answer, because yanno... they have more than two scenes where Chapel seems interested.
Also, Uhura/Kirk is like WAY more a compelling ship for Uhura, considering like. They were the first ever interracial kiss on television. (Even though, you know, in context it wasn't super romantic.)
Meanwhile, Kirk and Spock are t'hy'la, they're assumed to be a couple in novelizations, the entire show is about their relationships, and they're literally based on Alexander and Hephastion, who are real people who were actually fucking and in love in real life.
Also. I've literally never said it was bad to ship Spock/Uhura. What I said was that it's stupid to pretend that Spock/Kirk is inherently racist in its existence, when Spock/Uhura was no more canon during TOS's run than Spock/Kirk. How would you like it if I claimed that shipping Spock/Uhura was homophobic, with absolutely no real basis?
AOS doesn't factor into this because 1) 60s housewives had no idea it was coming, and 2) when AOS came out, people had already been shipping K/S for fourty years and literally invented modern fandom.
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mayybirds · 2 years ago
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Wanted to update my profile description to reflect it but bc of adult life and chronic ADHD I often miss asks and don't catch that they came in for a few days (or weeks! I have the memory of a goldfish!!), but I'm always super excited to read them and do my best to answer them in a timely manner!! Pls never think if you send an ask and it takes me a while to get to it I didn't enjoy reading it! I am just a little bit dumb lol.
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drop--pop--candy · 6 months ago
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thinking abt The Memory Issues again. sad!
#marin complains#thinkin abt how hard it is to explain that my brain just throws out basically all my good memories#thinkin abt how no apologies will ever be enough for how awful of a friend i am because of that#thinkin abt how people automatically assume they must not be important enough if i forgot something#but it's not that at all!! if i've forgotten a lot about you you're probably MORE important to me than the average person#but nobody gets it!! because that's a strange and awful thing to do#and i wish it wasn't like this. but it is.#anyways this post is brought to you by me Knowing I'm Forgetting Something. but i don't know what#im like 80% sure it pertains to a friend in some way but i don't even know which one#i am such a terrible friend UGHHHHH can't remember anything#it's not at all because my friends aren't important enough. my friends are sososo important to me. but my brain only remembers bad things#the most important person in my life is my sister who i've spent my whole life with and i remember very little about her#because i've spent my whole life watching and protecting and on edge#and when you're constantly in fight or flight mode you don't have time to save the good memories#you have to stay vigilant. you have to memorize everything about the person who poses a threat#and so i did but it came at a cost#anyways. yea. friends if you're reading this i am so so so so so sorry god i'm so sorry i wish i could remember i really do#i try my hardesy i write things down when i'm able even though the risk is immense because of my mother#but it's just not enough it's never enough#i'm sorry i'm so sorry i don't expect you to ever forgive me but i hope you can find it in you somewhere
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kimkaelyn · 9 months ago
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Ditto [s. todoroki]
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𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒, 𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀, 𝑜𝒽 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜 — 𝒟𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑜, 𝒩𝑒𝓌𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈
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→ summary: when you transferred to U.A., you didn't anticipate slipping on a pair of chopsticks in the middle of the crowded cafeteria during your first week. however, what was more surprising was the unexpected fall for the boy who gracefully caught you.
→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader
→ genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers
→ word count: 13.1k
→ warnings & tags: sfw, female pronouns are used, usage of y/n l/n, Class 1-A are now third-year students aka 18+, swearing, the usual U.A. chaos, reader has a Quirk, misunderstandings, some training violence, minor injuries, mentions and discussions of insecurities, aizawa briefly belittles the reader as a form of motivation, beginnings of a panic attack but it's cut short, there is one instance of the reader appearing to be ‘flushed’ in regards to a fever, since this is my first bnha fic some characters might be ooc? | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!
→ author's note: AHHHH HERE IT IS! I've been working on this for almost a year now and I am so excited to finally share it with all of you. Honestly, I didn't think I would ever finish this story, but I kept slowly chipping away at it thanks in part to the encouragement from @andypantsx3, @missrosegold, and @getstarried. Special thanks to @pikatsum for beta-reading this for me! Thank you girls. This is for you🫶🏻
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The cafeteria at U.A. High School was a pretty chaotic environment, you quickly learned within your first week after transferring from another Hero Course in the countryside. There were multiple things that could and would happen after the famous students had gotten some much-needed nutrients in their systems.
It was only three days into the school year and nothing had happened just yet, but in the U.A. world, that something was overdue.
The first chaotic event of the year that everyone had been anxiously—or in some cases, excitingly—waiting for happened on Thursday.
The day started off average; you got to school with three minutes to spare, which was a new record, but you had forgotten your pencil pouch in your dorm room, so you had to borrow some pencils from a girl who sat in front of you; Mina Ashido.
“Thank you,” you whispered as you took the pastel pink utensil from her. There was even a cute little fluffy puffball at the end in exchange for an eraser. Good thing you had an eraser in your bag.
“No problem! I gotcha!” She physically lit up and gave you a bright smile before turning back to focus on the blackboard.
You somehow managed to get through your morning classes running on the four hours of sleep you got the night before. You were cutting it quite close to passing out at your desk during calculus class, but you were saved by the lunch bell.
As soon as you stepped foot into the hallway, you were wrapped up in the faint, delicious scent of your favorite food coming from the cafeteria. Your mouth instantly watered, and you made a mad dash for the source of the delicious scent.
“Hey!” a sharp voice made you freeze in your steps. You glanced over your shoulder to find Tenya Iida, Class 3-A’s representative, glaring at you. The light reflecting off his glasses made him appear more threatening than he really was, but regardless, you still found yourself shying away from his harsh glare and rapid-moving hands. As they passed by, some students gave you apologetic smiles while others were not shy about openly staring at the scene before them, wondering what you possibly could have done to induce the wrath of the student representative. “There is to be no running in the halls!” You cowered some more at his brisk and overly formal tone.
Geez, what a stuck-up, you thought to yourself.
“My apologies, Iida.” You respond with a bow. He accepted your apology with a curt nod before he continued on his way to the cafeteria.
You waited for him to pass before rising from your bow. “Wow, he makes it feel like I broke the law or something.” You mused aloud.
“Don’t take it personally,” a comforting voice said from behind you. You turned to find Momo Yaoyorozu, Ochako Uraraka, and Tsuyu Asui standing before you. Ochako gave you a slight wave in greeting. “Iida can be quite demanding,” Yaoyorozu reassured you.
“Thank you.”
Tsuyu regarded you with gentle onyx eyes. “It’s L/N, right?”
You smiled, happy that she remembered your name from roll call. “Y-yeah! I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced yourself. “I, um, already know who you guys are.” You suddenly felt shy, and you bashfully rubbed the back of your neck out of nervous habit.
Before your transfer was finalized, you did extensive research into your future school’s history and future classmates. Thankfully—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—a lot of information is public knowledge; the various attacks on the school in the year leading up to and the conclusion of the War between the Paranormal Liberation Front and the Heroes, not to mention the various televised sports festivals, and the fact that the members of Class 1-A are practically household names even before their graduation.
The girls invited you to sit with them in the cafeteria. You had been keeping to yourself the first few days of school, choosing to observe from afar the already established social circles and friend groups. You had waited for an invitation to join one of said groups, and here was your opportunity.
The four of you made small talk as you made your way through the lunch line and to the table. Right away, Asui told you to call her by her given name. You told them about your life growing up in the countryside—with you and Uraraka bonding over your shared reason for becoming Pro Heroes—about the friends you had, embarrassingly funny stories from your junior high days, and eventually what led you to transfer to U.A.
“Well, this is the best Hero Course in the country!” you all laughed. “But to be frank, the only teacher at my old academy who could handle my Quirk retired, and none of the other academies within the prefecture had the resources to help me advance. Plus, my mentor is an U.A. alumnus, so naturally, the only other choice was U.A.”
Yaoyorozu hummed. “It is a shame about your mentor retiring, but that is what led you to transfer to U.A., and for that, I am grateful.” The class vice representative regarded you kindly. “I am a firm believer of things happening for a reason, and your transfer doesn’t change that.”
Uraraka nodded her agreement. “Momo’s right. U.A. is a place where anybody can make a difference, and I think you will find success here.”
You were rendered speechless. The tips of your ears turned red as your classmates regarded you with so much hope and sincerity in their eyes. “Uh . . . I,” you bashfully scratched the back of your head. Not knowing how to respond, you instead reached for the small bottle of milk on your lunch tray and brought it to your lips.
However, before you could take a sip, a BOOM erupted from the front of the cafeteria, accompanied by a gruff voice yelling, “Don’t walk in front of me, Icy-Hot!” You reflexively jolted at the loud noises and lost your grip on the glass, spilling the half-full bottle all over the front of your uniform.
“Shit,” you exclaimed as you instinctually rose from your seat, only to quickly sit down again when the liquid started to fall to the floor. The girls gasped and were quick to hand you all the napkins in the vicinity.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Asui asked as she watched you pat down your sodden skirt.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You waved off her concern as you continued to wipe away the remaining liquid. The napkins managed to soak up most of it, but your skirt was still damp. If you didn’t change skirts, you were going to smell of milk for the rest of the day, and you didn’t want to start off the school year with a reputation for smelling vile. “I’m going to go back to the dorm really quickly and change into a clean uniform. Please let Mr. Snipe know that I will be late for class.”
“Do you want us to accompany you?” Yaoyorozu asked. She began to rise from her seat, but you stopped her.
“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You gave her what you hoped to be a reassuring grin instead of a grimace. “Thank you for offering, Yaoyorozu, but I’ll be fine.” Before your classmates could respond, you stood from the table and made your way to the exit.
Great, this is just great, you thought as you walked, not really paying attention to where you were going. As soon as I make some friends, I make a fool of myself.
Unbeknownst to you, there was an obstacle in the aisle directly ahead. You were too distracted by your growing inner turmoil to notice the pair of metal chopsticks lying on the ground before you until your foot made contact and slipped out from under you.
It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even react.
Time froze as you became weightless, and you felt your body become briefly suspended in the air. Before you could react and rotate your body to prevent yourself from violently banging your head on the tiled floor, gravity took hold and yanked you back down toward the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness your classmates’ reactions to your misfortune.
Great, now I’m gonna embarrass myself in front of the entire school. Fuck you, chopsticks.
You prepared yourself for the pain of hitting the hard floor but were shocked when you were suddenly wrapped in a chilled warmth. You did slam into a hard surface, but this didn’t feel like the cold tile you expected.
“Are you all right?” a voice asked from above. You opened your eyes, only to find yourself captivated by a beautiful graphite and turquoise gaze. Your mouth opened to respond to the inquiry, but you couldn’t speak. This strange yet calming gaze hypnotized you, causing the rest of the world to fade into a buzzing silence. You watched as the perfect eyebrows of the owner of those magical eyes furrowed downward at your prolonged silence, the action momentarily drawing your attention.
With your attention span no longer zeroed in on the heterochromatic gaze, the world around you suddenly slammed back into your senses at full force. The volume of your fellow classmates’ conversations was deafening at first, but your ears grew accustomed once again to zone them out and focus on the person before you.
It took about thirty seconds for the entirety of your current predicament to register within your brain.
You were hanging about ten centimeters off the ground. The only thing keeping you upright and injury-free was Shouto Todoroki’s firm grip on your wrist.
“Um, hello?” the dual-haired teenager once again drew your attention to him. His grip slightly tightened before he tugged you up onto your feet.
“I think you broke her, Icy-Hot.” A rough voice drawled from your peripheral.
The intrusion of the other voice is what finally brought you out of your stunned silence. “No, I’m okay. Not broken.”
“Did you hit your head?” Todoroki inquired. He steadied you on your feet but didn’t release your wrist from his hold. Katsuki Bakugou was standing off to the side, trying to appear like he wasn’t involved with either one of you.
“I-I don’t think so.” As you reached down to brush yourself off, you caught a whiff of the unflattering scent of old milk emitting from your clothes. You held back your gag and turned to face Todoroki and Bakugou. “I’m sorry to rush, but I really do need to go.” You gave a quick bow. “Thank you for catching me, Todoroki. Bye!”
The two boys watched you sprint away like a bat out of hell. “T’fuck is her problem,” Bakugou muttered. “Fuckin’ extra makin’ me late for lunch.”
Todoroki didn’t respond to his classmate’s remarks. His lips pursed together as he watched you nearly run into a couple of first years before you disappeared around a corner, out of sight.
“Don’ even think ‘bout it, Icy-Hot.” Bakugou drawled from beside him. Todoroki cocked an eyebrow, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise indifferent expression. “Gettin’ involved with ‘hat extra will ruin your precious bloodline.”
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You tried to forget about the cafeteria incident, but the embarrassing ordeal refused to secede from the forefront of your mind. As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers a minute, antagonizing and overanalyzing every second of what had happened.
As the night dragged on, your thoughts shifted from the overall event to one single individual: Shouto Todoroki. You knew who he was, of course. You didn’t grow up underneath a rock. Yet, you weren’t prepared for how much more handsome he was in person than on the news or in photos.
You overanalyzed everything he did in the brief two minutes you were blessed to be in his company, every word he said, and every brief flash of emotion that showed in his heterochromatic eyes. Todoroki had tried to approach you after training in Ground Beta once you had returned from the dorms, but you avoided him, not wanting to face him again so soon after the embarrassing first meeting.
By Sunday, you had begun to forget about your embarrassing cafeteria incident. Your newfound friends didn’t bring up the spilled milk, and thankfully, they didn’t see you slip on the chopsticks and fall into Shouto Todoroki’s muscular arms. You breathed a sigh of relief when you found out that last part. You didn’t want them to think you were a total klutz.
Todoroki may think otherwise.
As you were rounding the corner to walk back up the stairs to head back to your dorm room, Todoroki happened to be walking down. You both turned at the same time and walked straight into each other.
He wasn’t fazed by the sudden collision; however, you were taken completely off guard. No matter how strong you may be, suddenly walking into about a hundred kilos of pure muscle would make anyone stumble. While he remained steadily standing, you, on the other hand, fell back onto your ass.
It took about three seconds for the two of you to comprehend what the hell had just happened. You groaned out when pain flashed across your backside.
“My apologies, I did not see you.” Todoroki said as he offered you a hand. You begrudgingly accepted his assistance, face heating as your super handsome classmate helped you to your feet for the second time in a week.
“Thank you,” you bowed your head to him. You brushed away some dust from your sweatpants, finding yourself too shy to look back up.
You felt a firm, yet gentle hand land on your shoulder. You jerked your head upwards to meet Todoroki’s captivating gaze. “Are you injured?” His heterochromatic eyes searched you for any injury, and they glimmered with relief when he found none.
“No, I’m okay,” you reassured the male. “I may be a little bruised in the morning, but I will be fine.” Not to mention my bruised ego.
Todoroki hummed in acknowledgment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. His eyes were hyper-fixated on you, leaving you to feel bare under his intense gaze.
You shifted your weight back and forth as the silence between you dragged on for a couple more seconds. “Um, I—” You cleared your throat. “I should be on my way now. Got things to study, you know.” You told him with an awkward laugh.
You moved to step around him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to move. Your movements are what must have shaken him out of his stupor, with him bashfully stepping to the side to allow you access to the stairway.
“Right.” He said as you walked by. “Take care, Y/N.” You startled at his sudden usage of your given name, but nevertheless, you felt oddly relieved. You smiled shyly and bid him goodbye. Nothing else was said between the two of you, but you felt his eyes on you as you walked up the stairs.
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I hope he likes cinnamon; you thought as you peered into the oven.
To be fair, you should have considered that before laboring for over two hours making kinako cinnamon cookies from scratch—which absolutely failed. Therefore, as a last resort, you were forced to run to the store and buy a box mix.
The he in question?
Shouto Todoroki.
It had been several days since your embarrassing first interaction with the dual-haired male and forty-five hours since your second, literal, run-in—not that you were keeping track, of course.
You wanted to do something nice for him as a way to apologize for your newfound clumsiness and thank him for his assistance in both instances. Your calligraphy skills were not . . . up to par, so to say, by any means, so a handmade thank-you card was off the table, and you highly doubt Todoroki was a flower guy. Not to mention his affluent background, so buying him a gift or offering to take him out to dinner was null—and way too straightforward for two people who were barely even acquaintances.
Therefore, you were left with only one option: homemade cookies.
Besides, all the old aunties back home always said the quickest way to win anyone over was through food.
“Ooooh, something smells amazing!” someone exclaimed from the stairway. Smiling slyly to yourself, you turned away from the oven to the new arrival.
You hadn’t interacted much with Rikido Sato save for the casual good morning greetings and thanking him for the delicious red velvet cupcake he baked for you as a welcoming gift to U.A.
“Thanks,” you said, grinning at the male.
The combined low mutterings of more approaching classmates brought your and Sato’s attention to the doorway where Mina Ashido, Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, and Hanta Sero were entering the dorm.
“Woah something smells fantastic!” Kaminari said, gazing into the kitchen in hopes of spotting the source of the delicious scent.
“Yeah, it does!” Kirishima agreed.
“Oh my gosh, what is it?” Ashido asked as she walked over. Her eyes lit up when she spotted you. “L/N! Did you make something?”
“I did.” You confirmed with a slight nod. “I’m making kinako cinnamon cookies.”
“Oooooh, yummy!” the pinkette exclaimed as she bounced over to peer into the oven. Your other classmates quickly joined her, all of them staring into the soft, golden light of the oven with stars in their eyes.
“They look so good!” Kaminari was practically drooling at the tawny treats. At that moment, the timer went off with a soft ting! You politely shooed your classmates back as you pulled a hand towel over your hands.
“Step back, everyone,” you warned as you opened the oven door. “They’re going to be hot.” You carefully reached in and grabbed the cooking tray, cautiously sliding it off the rack and fully into your cloth-covered hands. Despite taking precautions, you hissed as the hot aluminum seeped through the towel and made contact with your flesh. As quickly as you could without dropping the pan of cookies, you turned and set it down on the kitchen island.
“These look delicious!”
“Woah, man, they look amazing!”
“I bet they taste as scrumptious as they lo—”
You zoned out the boys’ compliments as you moved to the sink and turned on the tap.
“L/N, are you okay?” Ashido asked as she followed you. Her question caught the other's attention, and they, too, turned to watch you quizzingly.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Your response ended with a wince as your skin made contact with the cool water.
“Here, let me see,” Ashido gestured to your hand. With your permission, she took your wrist with gentle fingers and held it up for you both to inspect. Your skin was reddened slightly, but it wasn’t anything serious. You let out a sigh of relief. “It’s not serious, thankfully, but we should still put some burn cream on it just in case,” Ashido advised as she turned off the tap.
You nodded your head again and followed the pink-haired girl as she went to retrieve the first-aid kit. Before you walked too far from the kitchen, you shouted over your shoulder to your classmates, “Please don’t eat the cookies, boys! They are still hot and are for someone special!”
There was a noticeable delay in response to your warning. After a pregnant pause, there was a muffled, “okamph!” in response. You were about to turn around and make sure that they weren’t eating your treats, but Ashido calling your name changed your plans.
“Let’s fix you up, yeah?” She said as you both entered the girls' bathroom. Ashido gestured for you to sit on the counter while she dug through the first-aid kit for burn cream.
“Thank you, Ashido,” you said a few moments later as she lightly applied the cream to the worst of the reddening. Your skin wasn’t blistering, which was a good sign, but it was beginning to ache.
“No problem,” she replied. She began to gently rub the cream into your skin, mindful of the sore spots. She beamed at you as she said, “And you can just call me Mina. We are friends!”
You smiled at her. “Okay, Mina.” The two of you were silent for a couple of minutes as Mina continued to dress your burns.
“So,” she started, breaking the silence. “Who did you make the cookies for?”
You sharply inhaled. “W-what? What do you mean?” You tried to play it off by playing dumb, but Mina gave you an are you kidding me look.
“Don’t play that game with me, girl.” She scolded you. “So, tell me, who is this ‘special someone’?”
You let out a heavy sigh, dropping your shoulders in defeat. “One of our classmates. . .” You trailed off, turning away from the pinkette, and absentmindedly twirling a strand of hair around your finger.
Mina’s eyes lit up and her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh my God, seriously?!?” She squealed. You turned to face her again. “Girl, you absolutely gotta tell me! Who is it?!” She went to grab ahold of your hands but stopped herself when she remembered your injury. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You said. “But, um, I—” You hesitated, searching for the right words, but you couldn’t find them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” You said, barely above a whisper, turning away from your classmate once more in embarrassment.
Mina leaned back, taken by surprise by your change of tone. She studied you for a few seconds, her expression falling when she saw the look on your face; the clenching of your jaw.
“It’s okay, girl,” she reassured you. She set the roll of bandages down on the counter as she finished wrapping your hand. “You don’t have to tell me who your crush is if you don’t want to.”
You whipped back around to face her, eyes wide. “C-crush?!” you stammered out. “W-what?! I don’t have a crush! I never said I did.” you explained.
“Yeah, sure,” Mina smirked at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t of baked cookies for them if you didn’t like them.”
“Um, because I’m nice?” you asked with a lilt in your voice. Mina does have a point, though, you thought.
Mina laughed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”
A couple of minutes later, you and the pinkette exited the bathroom, laughing over something Mina had said. Your hand had been expertly wrapped and treated with some burn cream. Your injury didn’t even hurt anymore, but you were still going to check in tomorrow with Recovery Girl as a precaution.
As you rounded the corner to go back into the kitchen, you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes fell to the now-empty pan where twenty cookies sat not even ten minutes ago. Mina stopped next to you, and you could see her giving you a questionable look, but you didn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge her. You just stared blankly at the pan, trying to process what you were seeing.
What the hell? you thought.
“Ah, man,” a voice drawled out. You slowly turned towards the source; Denki Kaminari. He was lounging against the counter as he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. “Those cinnamon kinako cookies were delicious!” Your brain blanked out when you heard that, the organ pathetically trying to comprehend and respond to the current situation.
“You’re telling me!” Kirishima piped up from beside the blond. Sero and Sato voiced their agreement from where they were seated on the couches. “They really hit the spot after the day I had.” The redhead noticed you and Mina. “Hey, guys, welcome back!” he greeted with a wave, a broad smile overtaking his features. “How’s your hand?”
You did not formulate an answer right away, your brain still processing the crumbled remains of your cookies. Your delay didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but before they could question it, Mina came to your rescue.
“It’s okay! Y/N is alright, nothing major.” She informed them. Kirishima’s gaze left you to focus on the pinkette by your side, but Kaminari’s remained transfixed on your blank expression.
“Oh, well, that’s great to hear! I was worried—”
“But you should be ashamed!” Mina cut the redhead off, tone sharp as a blade. “All of you.”
“What—?”
“Mina, why—?”
Kirishima and Kaminari spoke at once, their voices clashing, but the pinkette interrupted them once more.
“Y/N didn’t make those cookies for you.” She said. “She made them for someone special, yet you guys ate them even after she told you not to.” She just about bit the last part out. The boys gaped at Mina, her scolding catching them by surprise.
“Is that true?” Sato asked, rising from the couch to approach you. Everyone fixated their attention on you, waiting for a response.
You hesitated at the sudden limelight, and also in shyness. When you originally set out to bake the kinako cookies for Todoroki, you didn’t expect them to 1.) burn your hand and 2.) for them to be eaten by others. Even though you were upset, you didn’t want the others to be ashamed or scolded. But they did eat them after I told them not to, you thought, pondering your next move.
After a few moments, you squared your shoulders and steadily said, “Yes. I . . . made them for somebody.” At your words, the room’s atmosphere soured. The boys’ shoulders slumped as they realized their mistake.
“Shoot, L/N, I’m sorry,” Kaminari said, stepping forward to gently grab your uninjured hand and bow.
“Yeah,” Kirishima added, scratching the back of his neck and looking away slightly. “That wasn’t really manly of us.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Sero intoned, looking sheepish.
Sato came to stand in front of you next to Kaminari, who still had a gentle hold of your hand. “I’ll be more than happy to remake the cookies for you.” He said. “If you want that, of course.”
You smiled, though it was closed-lipped. “Thank you, Sato, but not today.” He bowed his head.
Suddenly, the front doors slammed open, startling the six of you. You all watched, shell-shacked—you did, at least—as a fuming Bakugou stepped inside, loudly exclaiming, “I had ‘hat dumbass villain handled! Damn Sidekick extra jus’ had to step ‘n and—” He noticed your little group gaping at him. “The hell ‘re ya fools lookin’ at?” As the words left his mouth, the other two members of the infamous U.A. trio entered as well.
“Kacchan,” Izuku Midoriya said, trying to placate the explosive male. “He was just trying to . . .” The rest of his sentence fizzled into the background as the entirety of your attention span landed on Shouto Todoroki.
It had already been well-established that the youngest Todoroki son was even more handsome in person, but seeing him in his Hero costume did things to you. Your mouth almost dropped open to gawk at his god-like appearance, but you clenched your jaw tightly shut to avoid that catastrophe. Despite that, you were pretty positive your eyes were as wide as saucers, greedily taking every inch of him in as if it were the last time you would see him.
I should sue him for the cost of my medical bills when I develop heart palpitations, you thought.
“Shut the hell up, ya stupid nerd.” Bakugou snapped at a sputtering Midoriya, drawing your attention once more. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.
“Is he always this angry?” you asked under your breath; half-serious, half-rhetorical.
“Oh, yeah,” Mina confirmed, voice just as low.
Sero snickered from his post next to Sato. “You get used to it after a while,” he reassured you.
One of Kirishima’s blinding smiles makes its appearance once again. “Katsuki’s always been passionate about, well, everything.” He told you, not bothering to lower his voice. “It’s who he is. We love him regardless.”
Sato chimed in with, “Platonically.” The boys snickered and Mina rolled her eyes, yet there was a small smile playing on her lips.
“Even though his sour attitude can be harsh and lowkey over the top,” Kaminari began, eyes shining with mischief. “It sure makes him fun to mess with!” Your companions groaned in exasperation and started to voice their reservations.
“No, Denki. Leave him be—” Mina urged him.
“Awe, come on, man. Don’t—”
“Heyy~ Katsuki,” Kaminari crooned, rocking back on his heels as the pale blond’s attention zeroed in on him. Kirishima and Sato facepalmed. “Why have trouble catching a ‘dumbass villain’?” he teased. “Bad day? Your head not in the game?” The hair on your arms rose to attention as an electric charge swept the room, putting everyone on edge. Kaminari’s baiting also drew the attention of the explosive male’s companions. Your eyes briefly met captivating graphite and turquoise, eliciting a sharp gasp to leave your lungs.
“You’re gonna regret the day you were born, dumbass!” Bakugou bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the electric blond, snapping your attention from the hypnotizing gaze. You fully expected him to charge the male, already taking a cautionary step back, but instead of explosions ripping apart the building, Bakugou grunted and moved towards the showers.
Mina turned to the blond and shouted, “Now why did you do that, Denki? You know better than to rile Katsuki up like that!”
Kirishima dragged a large hand down his face before running it through his unruly red locks. “I’ll go check on him,” he announced before jogging after the sandy-blond. You were at a loss for words as you continued to watch your classmates scold a shit-grinning Kaminari, not even the tiniest bit remorseful for his teasing of Bakugou.
“Please don’t take Kacchan’s rashness to heart.” A new voice piped up. You turned to meet the electric green gaze of none other than Izuku Midoriya, the new generation’s proclaimed Symbol of Peace. “I’m s-sorry, I don’t think we have properly met. I’ve been in and out of campus lately—with missions and such.” He practically skipped over to stand in front of you. He smiled brightly as he gently took your hands in his large, calloused ones. “I’m Izuku Midoriya. I’m so happy you are here at U.A.!” he excitedly exclaimed, lightly squeezing your entwined hands. You couldn’t hide your wince and small gasp of pain as Midoriya unknowingly squeezed your burns. The green-haired male let go of your hands so fast as if he was the one burned instead of you, eyes growing wide. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” he asked, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your hand. Midoriya’s frenzy caught the other's attention, and all eyes were on you yet again.
The tips of your ears grew hot at the unwavering attention from the Heroes-in-training—especially from a certain icy-hot male who made your heart falter in its beating. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine.” You stuttered as you met each of your classmate's gazes, trying to reassure them of your stability.
“What happened?” Todoroki inquired, eyes hawkishly zeroed in on your face.
“U-um, well . . .” you trailed off, words fading from your brain as you slightly cowered under his unwavering attention. “I—”
“She burned herself while baking kinako cookies,” Sero spoke for you, having caught onto your growing anxiousness. You didn’t miss Todoroki’s eyes narrowing at the black-haired male’s words. Sato and Kaminari made noises of agreement, the blond absentmindedly rubbing his stomach in content.
Midoriya’s eyes shined. “Really? You did?!” He looked behind you to the kitchen, eyes searching for the aforementioned treats. “Where are they?” he asked when he didn’t spot any, only a plate littered with crumbs. He turned his attention back to you. You opened your mouth to answer, but a wave of shame overcame you as your eyes once again met those of the one you had made the cookies for.
Mina noticed your hesitation, giving you a knowing look as she answered for you. “The three idiots to your left ate them all,” she said with a little bite to her words, glaring daggers at the culprits. “After they were specifically told not to.” She reaffirmed. The boys shuddered at the reminder of their disobedience. The pinkette turned her attention back to the green-haired and dual-haired males. “I patched her up, though. The burns are minor.”
Midoriya nodded his head in understanding. “You should still see Recovery Girl,” he instructed, unashamedly expressing his concern for someone he had just properly met. “At least let her take a look at it.”
“I’m going to stop by to see her in the morning,” you reassured him, words coming back now that your mind was a little clear. His shoulders slumped in relief.
“You should rest, Y/N.” Todoroki’s searing gaze trailed over your form, calculating eyes searching for any additional outward signs of injury or discomfort. “After suffering an injury, no matter how insignificant, rest is important.” He softly chided.
“R-right.” You stammered out, at a loss for how else to respond to your handsome classmate's concern other than compliance. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at that moment. Your feet stumbled as you became lightheaded for a split second. You noticed the dual-haired male take a step towards you, catching onto your sudden exhaustion, but you quickly rightened yourself. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You’re not exactly sure why you thanked him, or what for. His concern, perhaps? He subtly nodded as you turned from the small group, breathlessly mumbling some sort of farewell and something about retiring to your room for the rest of the day.
The others muttered their goodbyes as you made your way to the stairwell.
As you walked up the stairs, head hung low, your throat began to burn and your vision began to blur with tears. The first one fell when you reached your floor, quickly followed by a couple more. You wiped them away, sniffing, as you made your way to your door. You didn’t react to the sudden presence next to you and the weight draped around your shoulders.
Mina didn’t say anything, only traced comforting circles into your back as tears flowed freely down your cheeks.
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The next day, you and your classmates were gathered outside Gym Gamma for an impromptu training session. You were surprised that Class 3-A still regularly trained together, but in your defense, that assumption came from someone who didn’t have many options when it came to sparing partners up until your transfer—a major shortcoming in retrospect.
“Today we are working on ‘last stand’ combat.” Mr. Aizawa drawled in his natural I Don’t Give A Fuck tone. “Close-quarter combat in which a violent assailant has obtained the upper hand and corners you in an attempt to defeat you.” He proceeded to explain the instructions of the training exercise and pair the students into groups of four who would take turns being the Heroes and the assailants.
“Midoriya will be with Jirou.” Mr. Aizawa intoned, briefly glancing at the two students to confirm they heard. “Todoroki will be with L/N.” Your muscles stiffened when you heard that. Your heart began to race as you watched the red-and-white-haired male make his way over to you.
“H-hi,” you greeted him, giving a soft smile.
“Hello,” he said, politely inclining his head. “I look forward to working with you.”
“Same here.” You said before facing forward once more as the first group began their round. You and Todoroki observed the match in silence, with you paying extra attention to your classmates’ movements and taking mental notes of how they incorporated their Quirks into hand-to-hand combat.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Expecting the new additions to be Ochako and Asui, you turned to greet them with a warm smile but paused when instead of your friends, Midoriya and Kyoka Jirou were standing next to you, both with warm expressions on their faces.
“Hi!” Midoriya greeted with a wide smile and a small wave. “I’m excited for this training exercise! It’s going to be so cool to see everyone’s improvement with hand-to-hand combat over the break! And any new moves! Or Quirk Awakenings! Or—” You had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying as it turned into a stuttering rant as he went on about each individual’s Quirk.
The rumors were true regarding his ramblings, you mused to yourself, wondering how long he could go on for before a small hand on his shoulder made him take pause.
“Midoriya,” Jirou intoned. “Calm down.” His cheeks flushed a bright red. He began laughing nervously while absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck.
“S-sorry,” he said, shyfully.
“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I agree with your stance, though. Observing others' skills is an effective way to improve your own. Get an idea or two.” You turned your attention back to the ongoing training, taking mental notes of your classmates’ fighting stances and their defensive moves, trying to get a better understanding of the why behind them. You pulled a small item from your jacket pocket, absentmindedly rubbing it between your thumb and forefinger. The movement caught Midoriya’s attention.
“What is that?” he asked, green eyes alight with curiosity.
“What? This?” You held up your good luck charm; a small, pink parrot keychain from a popular cartoon series you had won years ago at one of your hometown’s summer festivals. It was lucky because at the moment, while little you were trying to win, your Quirk had manifested. “It’s my good luck charm,” you explained the pink parrot’s value to you.
“Oh, cool!” Midoriya exclaimed. “You know, I used to have a good luck charm—it was my super rare exclusive All Might trading card! First edition!” His eyes shined as he reminisced. “I would bring it with me everywhere! Even Kacchan—”
“Deku,” drawled a low voice from the other side of your gathered class. The temperature fell as Bakugou’s vermillion eyes narrowed onto Midoriya. “Don’t say another word.”
“He’s such a fanboy.” Jirou chuckled, fondness seeping into her voice. Midoriya smiled sheepishly, not bothering even to try to deny the label. You spent the time until your group’s turn getting to know the two, quickly finding out that you and Jirou share the same taste in music; vowing to swap playlists after class. You were so caught up in your conversation that you almost forgot about Todoroki's presence, if not for the awareness of a body next to you. His chilled warmth seeped into your muscles, causing you to relax one moment, and tense up another.
“Are you all right?” he softly inquired, spying your tensed posture.
“Yeah, I’m good.” You replied, softly smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Just a lil’ nervous, is all.”
Todoroki frowned slightly, not understanding how you could be experiencing anxiousness. “Wh—?”
“Oh yeah!” Midoriya suddenly interjected. “This is going to be your first time demonstrating your Quirk, huh?” he asked you. “Or at least this is gonna be the first time I will see it. What is it again? Object—no—um, yeah, anyway I bet it is awesome!” His eyes still shined with his enthusiasm and curiosity. “Sometime you gotta let me ask you about it! I have so many! Does it work like Ochako’s Zero Gravity? Or Yaoyorozu’s Creation?”
You couldn’t help but give a small laugh at his eagerness. You had never met someone as enthusiastic about Quirks as Izuku Midoriya. It was kind of refreshing to interact with someone as passionate as he was.
“Kind of,” you began, silently pondering over what you know of the brunette’s Quirk and comparing it to your own. “Ochako and I have the same limitations when it comes to the weight of an object, but besides that, our Quirks are different.” Your Quirk was object manipulation; you could telepathically manipulate objects within a certain range. To you, your Quirk wasn’t all that—wasn’t anything unique by any means—but to others, you were seen as a powerful goddess. “To be honest, I’m lacking in hand-to-hand combat skills.” You sheepishly smiled.
“Really?” Midoriya asked, blinking in shock. “I thought your previous school would have prepared you for all types of situations.” Jirou nodded her agreement with the green-haired male. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Shouto continue to observe you with a calculating expression on his face.
“Unfortunately, no.” You shrugged. “Their curriculum was more focused on improving the individual’s Quirk than learning how to fight without it.”
“Oh, wow,” Jirou said. “That could put you at a great disadvantage down the line.”
You nodded. “Yeah, I know. That’s why—” You were cut off by Mr. Aizawa calling for your group to begin your training round. “Welp, this is it, I guess.” You chuckled nervously.
Midoriya gave you a reassuring smile. “You’ll do great!” he said, giving you a thumbs-up accompanied by a warm smile.
“Do your best,” Jirou added before moving towards the training pitch.
You started to follow, but a cool hand on your shoulder made you pause, shivering softly. You turned to find Todoroki giving you an expectant look. “You’ll do fine,” he said, confidently. He looked as if he put his entire faith in you. “I’ll be by your side the entire time.”
You felt a surge of confidence fill you at his words. You gave him a determined look. “Right,” you said. “We got this.”
You swear up and down his eyes twinkled when he looked at you, but it could have been a trick of the light. “You got this.” He replied, softly. The two of you walked into the pitch together, side by side.
The training went . . . not terrible, but it could have been better on your end.
Todoroki, Midoriya, and Jirou were amazing. Even without using their Quirks, they each were a force to be reckoned with. You were captivated by how swiftly they moved—as if they were ballerinas performing Danse des Petits Cygnes.
You weren’t on the same level as them and the rest of Class 3-A. You knew that, and you acknowledged it, but to see and be confronted by it so bluntly in person made you feel a whole other level of embarrassment and shame. You weren’t weak by any means, you could hold your own in a fight for some time, but not like your classmates could—and had.
Perhaps that is what separates you from your classmates. They have battle experience. Hell, they fought in a fucking war for crying out loud while you were on the other side of the country, guarding civilian shelters. You were fortunate not to see much bloodshed, but maybe that brought you to a disadvantage against these future Heroes surrounding you.
The horn had sounded as Jirou pinned you in the dirt for the sixth time, signaling the end of the round. You heard the sounds of Midoriya and Todoroki’s scuffling come to a halt from somewhere off to your left as Jirou lifted herself off of you. She offered you a hand as you began to rise from the ground. You accepted her extended hand with a grimace as the muscles in your back burned.
“Nice work.” Mr. Aizawa said as the four of you approached. “You performed adequately,” he addressed Jirou, Todoroki, and Midoriya. He turned to you. “You, not so much.”
You flinched as the words landed home. Damn, you thought, but he’s not wrong. You had naively allowed yourself to believe that Eraserhead wouldn’t call out your inferiority, at least in front of others. Then again, he was Eraserhead—infamous for his bluntness and apathy.
“Your skills are greatly lacking in hand-to-hand combat,” he continued. “I haven’t seen somebody so physically inadequate since your classmates were first years. Coming from another Hero Course, especially one with its reputation, it’s to be expected that you’re not up to par with your new classmates, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” As he spoke, he never broke eye contact with you, scrutinizing you. Even with one eye, his unrelenting gaze made you feel as if he could see every minuscule detail about you. “Based on the performance I saw today, it was a mistake to put you in this class.”
You heard a gasp from one of your classmates; its owner unknown. You gulped down your shame and remained silent. You had a feeling Aizawa wasn’t finished with you.
“From here on out, I expect you to train harder and push yourself further than anyone else. Extra training, extra classes—anything that will make you catch up.” His eye narrowed. “If I do not see substantial improvement in one month, you will be expelled. No exceptions.”
Your eyes widened, but your shock did not stop you from replying. “Yes, sir.” You said, keeping your tone neutral as you mulled over his words. Although extreme, I understand the reason for Mr. Aizawa’s methods, you thought. He’s right though. I’m far from even scrapping the level these guys are on. I need to be more disciplined and work even harder if I want to stand on equal ground with my classmates. Resolve made, you promised, “I will go Plus Ultra!”
“Yaass, Y/N!” Mina cheered. “Woohoo!”
Aizawa didn’t say anything else to you, promptly dismissing the class. Midoriya praised your performance and commented on his wish to sit down and talk in-depth with you regarding your Quirk. You promptly accepted his request, telling him you would let him know when you were free. He smiled before walking off to join Iida and Ochako.
“If it means anything,” a voice suddenly intoned from behind you. You spun around, having not sensed the person's approach. You weren’t all that surprised to find Todoroki there, softly regarding you. “I think you did well.”
You scoffed but smiled softly. “Thank you, but you don’t have to patronize me. I have a lot of work to do if I want to catch up.”
“You will,” he declared, before quickly clarifying, “Catch up. Especially with my help.”
You furrowed your brows. “Excuse me?”
“Should I repeat myself?” he inquired, his heterochromatic eyes swimming in mirth. “I will assist you in your training and classes.”
You didn’t respond right away, regarding him with suspicion. You waited for him to name a condition for his help, but when he offered none, you relaxed. “Thank you, Todoroki.” You inclined your head. “I greatly appreciate it.”
“Shouto,” he corrected.
You blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”
“Shouto,” he reiterated. “You may call me Shouto. We are friends, are we not?”
You gaped at him for a moment, processing his words. “Ye-yeah!” you said a little too loudly. “We are friends, Shouto.”
The small smile that graced his lips lit up your entire world and caused your heart to speed up, pounding almost painfully against your ribcage. “Meet me here tomorrow after class.” He instructed.
“Tomorrow.” You repeated in confirmation.
His smile grew a little wider. “See you then, Y/N.” He said before turning on his heel and strolling away. You watched him go in a daze, in disbelief of what just occurred.
“Oooooooo, Y/N’s gotta date!”
You shrieked at the sudden voice and spun around for a second time to find Mina standing there, hunched over laughing at your reaction.
“Mina!” you shrieked, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”
She continued to laugh. “Sorry,” she said once her laughter died down. “You were so entranced with Todoroki that you didn’t even realize I was here!”
“Oh, yeah right.” You responded, playfully rolling your eyes. The two of you began to walk to the dorm. “I wasn’t entranced with him.”
The pinkette gave you a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you ain’t lying to me.”
You scoffed but didn’t attempt to refute her claims. You put your hands in your pockets and looked to the ground, lost in thought. Mina didn’t say anything else, allowing you both to walk in silence.
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The next afternoon, you met Shouto at the training grounds outside Gym Gamma for your first tutored training session. He regarded you kindly as you slowly approached, suddenly feeling quite bashful.
“Thank you for offering to do this, Shouto.” You said when you arrived. “It really means a lot. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”
“There’s no need for repayment.” He softly responded. “I volunteered to assist you. Therefore, no repayment of any sort is necessary.”
“Are you sure?” you asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience you—”
His soft call of your name made your next words die in your throat. “I assure you, this is fine.” He said. “Your company and attention are substantial enough.” You felt your face warm at his admission. Shouto gestured towards the training pit. “Shall we begin?”
He started by teaching you some stretches that are supposed to help decrease sudden muscle spasms and strengthen them. Afterward, he had you show him the little knowledge you had of hand-to-hand combat to gain an idea of where you stand in regard to U.A. training. Once you had demonstrated the few kicks and different styles of punching you knew, you turned to judge Shouto’s impression.
Your breath caught at what you saw.
His handsome features remained stoically blank for the most part, but the pursing of his lips and slight furrowing of his brows spoke a different tale. He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like they didn’t prepare you at all, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure.
“Shouto?” you inquired, voice slightly uneven as your mouth formed the syllables of his name. “Is everything alright?”
His beautiful eyes snapped to yours, and once again you were frozen by the intensity with which he looked at you. His gaze was calculating, and you could just about see the cogs turning in his brain as he silently regarded you. A couple long moments later, his lips parted on an exhale and he finally addressed you.
“We have a lot of work to do.” He declared. “But we already knew that.” You slowly nodded your head, curious as to where he would be going with this conversation. “Thankfully, you’re not completely helpless,” he intoned dryly. “Even though you don’t have many skills regarding physical, non-Quirk combat, I have identified several places where we can start, correct, and then build on.”
You steadied yourself, resolve firmer than ever before. You declared, “I’m ready.”
Shouto gave a quick, but detailed, overview of his plans for your ‘training tutoring’, you referred to your sessions as. He was going to teach you everything he thought you should know—which was everything he knew—in order to successfully become a Hero people could rely on.
The two of you began by improving your physique. You joined him on his early morning run along with Midoriya and Bakugou, who welcomed you with contrasting fervor. When you met for your afternoon training, you would run five kilometers before learning various grades of combat moves, and then concluding your time together by sparring.
It was established early on that neither of you would use your Quirks during your tutoring as the two of you were well-adapted to your respective Quirks—and the strict rules regarding their usage.
For the next several weeks, you worked tirelessly on your training, and your dedication and hard work paid off. At your end-of-the-month assessment, Aizawa was pleased by your rapid and exceptional improvement and announced you could stay at U.A. He also informed you that it was never his intention to expel you in the first place, but nevertheless, he was impressed by your efforts.
You and Shouto continued to grow closer as time went by. You still had your training tutoring sessions in the afternoons, and you became a regular on his early morning runs. You even hung out outside of class and training; preparing pre-workout meals and drinks together, and various study sessions at all hours of the day and night. Once, you even packed him a small canister of his favorite brand of soba noodles for lunch one of the weekends he was interning at his father’s Agency. When he came back to the dorm after his shift, he made a beeline for you and promptly informed you that from then on out, you would be solely responsible for packing his lunches.
“Now why would I do that?” you implored. You crossed your arms, awaiting his response. “Are you gonna pay me?”
Shouto slowly blinked at you in the way a cat would. “Why would I compensate you for an action you chose to do?”
You had no retort for that.
As you spent more time together, you noticed some changes. Shouto would stare at you for seemingly no reason, and whenever you called him out on it, he feigned innocence. He also sought you out more often, insisting on walking to your next class or to and from the dorm by your side. He even began to occupy you on your shopping runs, dutifully holding your bags for you. And whenever you would thank or compliment him, his whole demeanor would light up as if Aphrodite herself had shown favor towards him.
You weren’t any better, though.
If Shouto would do so much as even blink in your general direction, your heart would soar and butterflies would take flight in your stomach. At first, you brushed it off as nerves for being the subject of the Shouto Todoroki’s attention, but you were in denial, not wanting to admit what was actually occurring. Looking back, you realized that deep down, you had known all along what was happening, but at the time, you weren’t ready to admit it—to yourself and him.
Regardless of your rebuttals and lack of admission, you were falling for your dual-haired classmate, hard and fast, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
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3 months later . . .
“Y/N! It’s starting! You’re gonna miss it!” Ochako shouted from the couches, the other girls of Class 3-A surrounding her, all dressed in comfortable loungewear. It was the class's annual Girl’s Movie Night, which was held every couple of months. Tooru told you earlier that week that they would like to have it more often, like once a month, but given their hectic and ever-changing schedules, the girls had to settle for every few months. They took turns who got to pick out the movie. It was Mina’s turn this time. True to her nature, she selected an early 2000s chick flick set in the States.
“Hold on, wait for me!” you hollered back as you finished pouring the freshly popped popcorn into a large bowl, a few kernels spilling out as you whirled on your heels to sprint into the living area. You nearly tripped over Jirou’s legs as you practically threw yourself towards the last remaining free spot on the couch.
“Ah, sorry!” you exclaimed as you settled yourself into the cushions, checking over Jirou and your popcorn bowl. “Did I miss anything?”
“No, it’s just starting,” Momo said, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the opening credits began to roll.
“Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite movies!” Mina squealed next to you. “Have you ever seen it before?” she asked.
You hummed, acknowledging her question. You thought hard, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen the characters on the screen before. “I’m not sure,” you said. “I don’t think so.”
The pinkette gasped aloud and theatrically placed a hand on her chest, sprawling backward. “Y/N! You wound me!”
Across the room, Tooru piped up from her spot next to Asui. “How could you not have?! It’s only one of the greatest movies ever made!”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Ochako interjected. “Gonna have to disagree.” You expected them to start arguing back and forth over what is truly the greatest movie ever made, like your friends back home would have done, but they don’t. Mina stuck her tongue out at Ochako before turning back to the movie.
You all watched the movie in relative silence, save for the light background noise of popcorn moving around in a bowl and slurping from a now-empty straw. It was nice, peaceful; a well-deserved and appreciated respite from the grinding hustle of being Pro-Heroes-in-training.
“Just confess already!” Jirou shouted at the screen as the main character allowed another opportunity for them to confess their feelings for their classmate slip through their fingers. “Gosh!” A corner of your mouth curled at her irritation. A few grumbles of agreement sounded from the others as the movie continued playing.
You had to stifle your laughter as the main characters continued to pine after one another, completely oblivious to the other’s growing feelings. I can’t believe there are actually people in the world who are like them, you silently mused. It’s so obvious they like each other. I can’t believe they don’t see it.
“Ugh, the anticipation and pining is killing me!” Tooru cried out, her slippers moving frantically in the air as she kicked her legs.
Asui raised a brow. “I thought you’ve seen this movie before?”
“Well, yeah, I have,” the invisible female said. “But the suspense still gets to me!”
“It is quite intense.” Ochako agreed. “I hope they confess soon. It hurts to see them think the other doesn’t return their feelings.”
“I don’t understand how they cannot.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. The girls turned to look at you as you continued, “I mean, they’re so obvious.”
“Yeah, it’s kinda annoying at this point,” Jirou mumbled.
Mina snickered. “Y/N, as if you’re one to talk.”
You gave her a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, come on. You’re so obvious, too, with your crush—”
You cut her off, “I do not have a crush.”
“You have a crush?” Asui asked. You and Mina responded at the same time.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, she does.”
“What is this about?” Momo inquired, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.
“Nothi—” you began but was swiftly interrupted by the pinkette next to you.
“Y/N has a crush on Todoroki!”
The girls gasped and gapped at you, eyes wide.
“I do not!” You said, face burning as you tried to mitigate the situation. “We’re not like that!”
“Oh my.” You thought you heard Momo say under her breath, but you couldn’t really hear since Tooru started shrieking with glee.
“You guys would be the cutest couple!” she exclaimed, jumping up from her spot on the couch and racing over to pull you into a tight embrace.
“I mean, it does make sense given they spend so much time together.” Ochako mused, a finger on her chin as she considered the situation.
Asui jumped on the bandwagon with, “Oh they are definitely into each other.”
“One hundred percent,” Mina agreed.
“Girl, you gotta spill the tea!” Tooru exclaimed as she pulled away. “Tell us everything!” The others voiced their agreement.
“I do admit, I am curious as to how this relationship came to be,” Momo vocalized, setting her tea cup down onto its saucer. “That is if the two of you have gotten that far into your companionship.”
You blinked at the midnight-black-haired woman, shock clouding your brain for a moment as you processed her words. “Um, n-no. We aren’t in any type of r-romantic relationship.” You clarified, but immediately you could tell certain people thought your answer was complete horse poop. “We aren’t!”
“Regardless, you guys are pretty close,” Ochako interjected. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
Jirou nodded in agreement. “And all the extra training you do together.”
“The early morning runs,” Asui added.
“Okay, okay,” you threw your hands up in a placating manner. “I understand what you guys are trying to get at, but you’re wrong.”
Mina came to stand beside you, giving you a knowing look. “Girl, Y/N,” she began. “You can try with all your might to deny it, but it’s obvious what is really going on between you and Shouto.” She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And I know you know it, too.”
You stared at the pinkette, pondering her and the other’s words. You wanted to continue denying what they were saying, but you were getting tired of denying your feelings to yourself. You slumped your shoulders, the tension leaving your body as you resolved to come clean with the truth—to yourself and your friends, besides a certain dual-haired male. “Alright, fine.” You let out a heavy sigh, mentally preparing yourself for their reaction to your next statement. “I like him a little.” You confessed, looking at the floor, too afraid to meet any of their gazes.
The room was dead silent for two breaths before Mina erupted in choking laughter. “’A little’? Yeah RIGHT!” She laughed so hard that tears began to stream down her pink cheeks. After she managed to calm down a bit, she turned to face you fully, laying a hand on your knee. “Girl, you’re lying to yourself.” She told you, tone light yet serious. “We have all seen the way you look at Shouto—” the others nod in confirmation. “—and your eyes tell it all.”
You flinched as embarrassment flooded you. “Is it really that obvious?” you asked. You turned to the others to gauge their reactions. “Am I?” They all nodded.
“Definitely.”
“For sure.”
“We could see it from a mile away.”
You gasped. “Oh my,” you covered your face with your hands. “Do you think Shouto knows?”
“I doubt so,” Momo said. “Shouto is quite intelligent and a formidable force to be reckoned with, but as I’m sure you’re aware, his experience and understanding of social concepts and cues are fairly limited.”
“In other words,” Jirou interjected. “He’s none the wiser.”
You released a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t think I’m a psycho stalker or something.
“Hey, give him some credit, guys,” Ochako remarked. “Todoroki’s more aware than he’s given credit for.”
“Moving on,” Mina said. “Have you thought about confessing your feelings to him?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, shamefully looking away. “No. . .”
“What?!”
“Really?!” Tooru shouted. “But he’s so hot!” The sleeves of her shirt crossed in front of her. “I would do anything to be his girlfriend.”
You laughed. “While you are correct about his handsomeness, I don’t even know where I would begin or how I would confess.”
“Your feelings are valid, Y/N,” Asui assured you. “Confessing one’s feelings for another is a life-changing occurrence.”
“You gotta do it before graduation in a couple months, though,” Ochako added. “If not, then you may never get another chance to do so.”
“Why do you say that?” you asked. “As Pros, wouldn’t we work together often? Why does it need to be before we graduate and turn Pro?”
“Possibly, but with our chosen line of work, there is always a possibility. . .” she trailed off with a grimace.
You understood immediately. “Oh.”
“Although rare in the line of duty, it does happen.” Momo said. “I wouldn’t worry about that though, but I agree with Ochako.”
“Plus,” Mina began, mischief glowing in her eyes. “If the two of you get together before you make your Pro Hero debut to the world, you wouldn’t have to worry about him falling in love with some random civilian he rescues on the street or another Pro.”
You nodded. “You have a point.”
“Either way, I think it will all work out in the end,” Ochako said, her cheeks widening with her smile. “I think perhaps Shouto returns your feelings, and just simply doesn’t know what to do about them or how to address them, therefore you should tell him.” The other girls voiced their agreement.
“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be some big romantic gesture or anything,” Jirou said.
“Just be honest with him, Y/N,” Asui said.
“Yeah, girl,” Mina added, giving you a warm smile when you met her gaze. “You got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”
You squared your shoulders as a burst of confidence filled you thanks to the encouragement you received from your friends. “Okay, I will!” you loudly announced. “I will confess my feelings to him!”
The others cheered as you all held up your lemon water in a faux toast. In your happiness, none of you noticed the shadows shift in the stairwell and the soft noise of retreating footsteps on the wood.
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You were screwed.
“How am I gonna tell him!?” you mewled aloud a couple of days later in the cafeteria. You dramatically slumped your forehead on the tabletop, mentally kicking yourself for allowing the girls to convince you that confessing your crush would be an easy endeavor. You felt a reassuring pat on your shoulder. Groaning, you lifted your head from the table to shoot puppy eyes at Ochako. “Ochako, help me!” you cried. “How do I confess?”
The brunette gave you a sheepish smile. “I don’t know, Y/N.” She professed, her eyes apologetic. “Proclaiming one's love for another isn’t really my strong suit.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Asui mumbled under her breath before taking a sip of her drink, receiving a glare in response.
“Y/N, sweetie,” Mina cooed from your other side. “I think you’re overthinking it a little. It shouldn’t be but so hard. Just be honest with him!”
“But that is hard!” you said, waving your hands in the air. “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘hey, Shouto, I think you’re really hot and amazing. Wanna go out with me?’”
“Sure you can,” Momo intoned, trying to reassure you. “Maybe not in those exact words, but when the time comes, you will know what to say.”
“I hope so,” you sighed, slumping your shoulders. “I hope so.”
As time passed, you found that you did not, in fact, know what to say when the time came to confess your feelings to Shouto Todoroki. Whenever you were near him, you became tongue-tied and could barely speak without becoming a stuttering mess. During each interaction, Shouto would give you a long, confused look, his eyebrows drawn downwards as he watched you struggle for words. He wouldn’t comment on it, bless him, but he must’ve thought you to be a total weirdo.
Yet, he still accompanied you on the walk back to the dorm every day after classes ended, and he insisted on continuing your training sessions every weekend after he finished his shift at Endeavor’s Agency. The two of you grew closer, to your absolute delight, and yet you still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to confess your feelings to him.
Until one day . . .
You were sitting in homeroom during free period, chatting with Midoriya about the latest episode of the rebooted All Might: The Mightiest Man TV series.
“I’m telling you, Midoriya,” you said. “It doesn’t matter how much the animation and special effects have improved, the original will always be better than the reboot.” You crossed your arms and lounged back in your chair, waiting for the forest green-haired male to start sputtering his counterargument. “You can’t change my mind. I will die on this hill.”
“Are you seriously sayin—?”
A call of your name from a familiar tenor drew your attention. You turned towards the source to meet a pair of heterochromatic eyes. Shouto was making his way to your desk, coming to a stop right in front of you. You had to tilt your head back in order to maintain eye contact. After a moment, he turned his attention to Midoriya next to you. “Pardon me, Midoriya, but I need to speak to Y/N in private.”
You and Midoriya gaped at the dual-haired male for a good twenty seconds before you slowly rose from your seat. “O-okay.” You turned to face your green-haired companion. You hoped your eyes were conveying your inner panic as you said, “Midoriya, I’ll be back.”
All he could do was nod as he watched you follow behind Shouto, wondering why you looked so panicked to go with the male. Maybe you were constipated.
As Shouto led you toward the classroom door, Ochako and Mina shot you curious glances. When you met their gazes, they gave you a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, respectfully.
“Good luck, girl!” Mina whisper-shouted.
“You got this, Y/N,” Ochako said. You tried to match her comforting smile with your own, but it didn’t reach your eyes.
You followed behind the dual-haired male, silently wondering what was going on. Once you were outside the classroom, he led you down the hallway to a little corner nook bathed in the golden light of the afternoon.
“Shouto, is everything okay?” you asked, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “Is something wrong?” At your inquiry, he finally came to a stop in front of a set of windows and turned to face you.
“Yes, everything is fine.” He reassured you. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
You blinked. “Okay,” you said. “Shoot.”
Shouto likewise paused at your usage of unfamiliar slang but didn’t comment on it. “Um,” he started, but drifted off, not finishing the thought. He opened his mouth only to shut it again after a moment or two without making a sound. You furrowed your brows as you continued to watch him struggle for words.
“Um, Sho?” you prodded. He didn’t respond, however, still thinking over his next words. Shouto never hesitates, you thought with a mixture of wonderment and anxiety. Is something bothering him? you thought with growing concern. You felt your heart come to a skittering stop as another horrifying conclusion came to mind; am I the problem?
“I overheard you and the other girls’ conversation on Movie Night,” he confessed at last, interrupting your spiraling train of thought. He bashfully looked away as if he was ashamed.
“Oh, okay?” you responded, absentmindedly going through the events of the night in question. Your heartbeat began to calm down to a normal rate. “What conversation?” You couldn’t think of anything in particular and were about to ask him to elaborate before the realization hit you like a freight train.
“I like him a little.”
“Okay, I will! I will confess my feelings to him!”
“Yeah, girl, you got this. Besides, he can’t reject you. You’re too hot for that.”
Oooohhhhh.
Fuck.
Maybe he didn’t hear that particular part of the conversation! You tried to reassure yourself as you waited for Shouto to answer your question. Your heart rate picked back up as panic began to settle in. We were there for several hours. There is so much he could’ve—
“You have an admiration going on.” You hate to admit you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before his formal wording translated into modern speech. You have a crush.
FUCK!
“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” you rushed out, trying to save face and whatever friendship you had with Shouto. You felt your cheeks burn. “Please, just forget you ever heard that!”
Shouto snapped his head to you as your words registered in his brain. “Why would I do that?” he asked after a moment. “We live in the same building with shared living space, barely anything is not overheard by another.”
Oh God, how much did he overhear?
“Besides,” he continued. “At our age, it is completely natural for one to harbor feelings for another.”
You blinked at him as his words registered, your cheeks now tingling due to the burn. Gosh, he sounds like a grandpa giving the birds and the bees talk.
“It—it’s j-just,” you stammered. “I-I-I—” You let out a harsh breath in frustration when your words continued to fail you. Shouto raised a brow before his eyes narrowed. Your heart sank when you saw that.
Oh great, he’s annoyed!
“Are you all right?” he asked before moving so he was right in front of you. You squeaked at the sudden warmth of his body heat as he placed a hand on your forehead. “Do you feel ill? You feel warm, and your face looks to be flushed with some perspiration gathering on your forehead.” His eyes frantically looked you up and down as he examined you for any further signs of sickness. “I should get you to Recovery Girl.”
“N-no!” you exclaimed when he went to sweep you off your feet. “Sh-Shouto, I—I’m fine, really. I’m n-not s-sick.”
“Oh?” Shouto blinked in confusion and, adorably, subtly tilted his head to the side. “Then why are you so febrile? And you are stuttering?”
“It’s not because I am sick. I’m just em-embarrassed.” You whispered the last part, and you couldn’t help but look away from Shouto in shame.
“Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed, Y/N?” You shut your mouth, refusing to speak. Shouto sensed your hesitation. The light slowly left his heterochromatic eyes and he bashfully looked away from you. “Is . . . is it because you don’t want to be seen with me?” he asked. “For fear that your crush will see us together and not return your affection?”
You let out a gasp in surprise. “What? No!” You are quick to reassure him—your actual crush—of your intentions. “That’s not it at all!”
Shouto met your gaze again. His eyes lit up with what looked like . . . anticipation? Hope? You weren’t sure, but your heart began to race in trepidation. “Then what is it?”
“I like you,” you blurted out. You shut your eyes and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide from your drowning embarrassment. “Like, not even a little bit, but, like, really, really like you.” You whispered from behind your hands.
There was no immediate response from the dual-haired male. You didn’t dare to remove your hands from your face to check if he was still standing in front of you.
He probably didn’t hear me. You internally slapped yourself upside the head.
Before you could react, Shouto was carefully removing your hands from your face. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you would crack and break under his fingertips. “Why are you hiding from me?” he whispered. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared wide-eyed at him.
“I—I.” Despite your efforts, words weren’t able to come out of your mouth.
“You should never feel like you need to hide,” he continued. He let out an airy tsk before he reached his hand up and gently tucked a piece of stray hair behind your ear. You felt your face heat up even more at the action. “Especially from me.”
What.
“W-what?” you voiced aloud. You blinked a couple times, trying to bring your brain back from the brink of short-circuiting.
Shouto chuckled lowly, moving impossibly closer into your space. “I think you need to get your hearing checked out, love.”
You blinked some more. “What?”
“Have I broken you?” he asked, the corner of his perfect lips turning up at the thought. “First you forget your words, and now you have lost your hearing. . .” he trailed off as he continued to stare intently into your eyes.
What is he playing at. . .? you wondered as you blankly stared at him.
The two of you stood there and took each other in for quite a while. In reality, it mustn’t have been for very long—at most a minute and a half—but to you, it felt like hours. You were so close you could see the light reflecting in his heterochromatic eyes and the small streaks of gray in the turquoise-colored one.
“I . . . like you, too,” Shouto suddenly confessed, violently snapping you out of the daze his proximity causes. “I have harbored feelings for you for some time now.”
WHAT!?
“You . . . do?” you asked, skeptical. You were hesitant to believe his words in fear that this whole thing was some sick prank. But—
No. Shouto isn’t that type of person, you thought. He barely understands humor as it is, so he must be telling the truth.
“I do,” he confirmed.
“Oh, um.” You fumbled again for words, embarrassment flooding your entire system once more. You licked your dry lips, missing the way Shouto’s eyes locked onto the movement. “Cool.”
Shouto blinked at you, one of his perfect eyebrows raising. “Cool?” he repeated with a sly smile overcoming his lips.
“Mhm.” You dumbly nodded. “Cool.” You paused before muttering a small, “Ditto.”
He chuckled again, subtly moving the tiniest bit closer to you. He was just about crowding you into the corner at this point. “Ditto, huh?” He mumbled under his breath with a widening smirk playing at his lips. “I think I have broken you, dear.”
You grinned. “Perhaps.” Shouto chuckled again before falling silent. The two of you stared at the other, lost in each other’s gazes.
“Can I kiss you?” He spoke on an exhale, his deep voice somehow even deeper. Before you could internally flip the fuck out and fully comprehend what was happening, you were already nodding. That was all the confirmation Shouto needed before he brought your lips in for a sensual kiss. Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as you relaxed into him.
You smiled into the kiss. Thank you, chopsticks.
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The next day, you and Shouto walked into the classroom holding hands. Everyone collectively stopped what they were doing to openly gape at the two of you as Shouto, always the gentleman, escorted you to your seat. The shocked silence lasted all but three seconds before Mina and Tooru let out ear-piercing shrieks and practically tackled you.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Mina was shouting meanwhile Tooru was holding onto you so tight to the point that she was nearly crushing you into her invisible body.
“AHHHH, I knew this was gonna happen!” she exclaimed before somehow pulling you in closer.
“Can’t . . . breathe.” You wheezed out before your boyfriend pulled you away from the two fangirls and protectively held you to his chest.
“I would be grateful if you didn’t crush my girlfriend to death, Tooru.” He intoned in his naturally dry tenor. His statement only made them freak out even more.
“Ah! Look at the two love birds!” Ochako swooned.
“Fuckin’ disgustin’,” grumbled a deep voice from somewhere in the back of the room.
Before you could turn to shoot Bakugou a death glare, Shouto was already clapping back. “What, are you jealous, Bakugou?”
The desks which had surrounded the blond a moment prior were blown to shiverines.
“I’LL END YOU!”
Fin.
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imagine-you · 5 months ago
Text
won't somebody come take me home? [Logan/Reader]
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Summary: You've been abandoned to the Void after experiencing heartbreak in your universe. Instead of becoming food for Alioth or one of Cassandra's underlings, you find a new family with the resistance seeking to bring her down. When Johnny doesn't come back to the hideout, you keep watch in the hopes of seeing his return. Instead, you find a Deadpool variant fighting someone who looks achingly familiar. Someone who reminds you of your old life and the person who broke your heart. When you finally come face to face with a Logan after being pruned from your universe, you're not expecting the longing you're met with or the fact that in his universe, you were his wife. Word Count: 7.7k Author's Note: I've wanted to write for X-Men for so long and then I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fell in love with Logan all over again. If you like this, please let me know! I'm so nervous about writing for a new fandom. And if you want to see more X-Men stuff from me, please let me know that as well! Reader's song for this is definitely I'm With You by Avril Lavigne, but I kind of imagine Logan's ends up being Hanging By a Moment by Lifehouse.
closer to where I started // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me
Read on AO3
Everyone in the Void had a tragic backstory that was befitting a hero or villain or anything in between. You were the ones who were lost, abandoned, or forgotten by your worlds and the people you cared about more than anyone else.
You didn't remember much about how you got to the Void, but you had a pretty good understanding of why you were dropped into the barren wasteland for the multiverse's landfill.
Like most people in the Void, you were here because of heartbreak. The one person you had loved with your entire being had loved someone else. You had given him your all, but he only gave you a piece of himself. And when he ripped that piece of himself away, leaving you aching and broken, you were swept out like unwanted trash and right into the Void.
"What's got you so down today, ma chérie?" Remy dropped down into the chair at your side.
You huffed out a laugh that was nowhere near amused. "Besides the fact that we're all stuck here and trying to avoid Cassandra and her wandering fingers?" You brought your hand up and wriggled them in Remy's face, reluctantly letting out a laugh when he snapped his teeth at them.
"Ah, there's that smile," he mused, bumping his shoulder into yours. "You thinkin' 'bout your old life?"
You rolled your eyes, inanely feeling your throat tighten as you fought the urge to cry. You kept your gaze on the bottle of whiskey on the table. Remy reached for it, but he met resistance and turned a glare on you.
You shrugged your shoulders before dropping the forcefield. "I had a dream about him last night," you admitted with a scowl. "About what happened and how no one on my team had my back. How they all thought it was inevitable." You snorted before you quickly grabbed the bottle and took a swig, relishing the burn that traveled down your throat and sent warmth pulsing through your chest. You handed it over to Remy, ignoring his obvious annoyance.
"Listen, you're a lot better off now than you were with those fuckers," he consoled as he finally wrapped his hand around the bottle. "But don't go gettin' between me and my drink, now," he warned, his eyes briefly flashing red before fading away. "I'm not like those assholes who abandoned you. You've got nothin' to hate me for."
"You're real shit at pep talks, you know that?" Johnny cut in, knocking into Remy as he walked by. "Leave Y/N alone. She doesn't want to put up with your bullshit right now."
"And you suppose she wants to put up with yours? All you've got is bullshit," Remy taunted, idly twirling a card between his fingers. It was half a threat, but Johnny would only fight fire with fire and Remy knew it. Elektra had forbidden both of them from using their powers in the hideout, since they had almost burned it down last time.
"Will you both just stop?" You groaned, letting your head hit the table. Someone reached out to pat you on the shoulder, but you didn't bother to look and see who did it. "I love and respect you both dearly, but if you leave another scorch mark in here, then we'll all be in trouble."
Remy obediently stowed the card back up his sleeve while Johnny rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever," he sighed before making for the door. “See you later.”
"Where are you going?" You called, watching him retreat.
"I'll be around," Johnny answered, shooting you a smirk over his shoulder. "I always come back, don't I?"
You didn't get a chance to respond before he was gone. You always worried about Johnny when he went on his little trips around the Void. He swore he would be careful not to run into any of Cassandra's goons, but you knew all of your days were limited. Whether it was Alioth or Cassandra or one of the many rogue Deadpools wandering around, it was only a matter of time before trouble found you.
Remy stood up and placed the half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of you. "Just this once," he allowed with a wink. "You appreciate that, though, you hear?"
"Thanks," you muttered before reaching for the bottle.
You spent the rest of the day trying to block out the dream while you trained with Laura.
You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't realize you had company.
"Damn, what's got you so riled up?"
You turned to look at Eric, surprised to see him standing there. You then realized your knuckles had split open and you had trashed the makeshift punching bag you had made out of an old blanket and some sand.
"Nothing," you deflected, half-tempted to go invisible just so no one could see you. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you knew you had his full attention and you didn't want another lecture on leaving your past behind.
No one on your team was good at that, but you were arguably the worst at letting your pain go.
You always hated when you dreamt about Logan. His last words to you echoing in your mind over and over. You hadn't been enough for him, but Jean? Jean was everything he wanted. You supposed your powers paled in comparison and you would never measure up when all you could do was conjure forcefields and become invisible. Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but you had never seen that look on his face when he looked at you.
It was a pity that you had given Logan everything only to be cast aside for the one who truly held his heart.
If Johnny were there, he would have told Blade to mind his own business, but he still hadn't come back.
"Again," Laura prompted, drawing your attention towards the punching bag. It was half-demolished, but you figured you still had some fight in you.
You noticed her shake her head at Eric as you turned away and focused all your hurt into your fists, watching the bag fall apart.
Johnny hadn't returned by the next morning and you were starting to worry.
You considered everyone your family, but you had a special bond with Johnny. He had been the first person to welcome you to the resistance and you, specifically your powers, had reminded him of his sister. He opened up to you about how much he missed his team, his family, and you told him about the heartbreak you had endured in your universe.
"I'll tell you what, if I ever get my hands on your Logan, I'll light the fucker on fire."
You felt a laugh bubble out of you. It was the first time you had laughed in ages and it felt so good to know you could still find joy in things. "He'd just regenerate."
"Not when I'm done with him," Johnny promised. "I'll cook him 'til he's just a heap of ash and then you'll dance on his remains."
You shook your head, but let Johnny carry on with his elaborate plan for revenge on your behalf. Johnny would never meet your Logan and you knew you would never actually see him again. Everyone in the Void was forgotten and there was no escape.
"You worried about Johnny?" Elektra wondered, coming to stand at your side.
You were keeping an eye on the horizon, searching for any sign that Johnny was coming home.
"It's not like him to be gone this long without some kind of message he's okay.
"He's gotten this far, hasn't he?" Elektra pointed out, shooting you a reassuring look. "He'll be fine."
You nodded your head, but didn't budge from your spot.
"You plan on staying out here all night?" Elektra asked.
"If I have to," you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. "What if he's in trouble?"
"Then you won't be any help to him sleep-deprived," she answered.
"I've had worse," you deflected with a forced grin.
Elektra sighed, but didn't try to dissuade you again.
You had a pair of binoculars Laura had scavenged and you were doing your best to keep an eye on your surroundings. You were surveying a forest when something caught your attention. You focused on the sight, wondering for a moment if Elektra had been right and sleep deprivation was messing with your mind.
You pulled the binoculars away and blinked a few times before looking through them again.
"Ah fuck," you groaned when you realized that what you were seeing was real.
"What's wrong?" Laura asked, startling you.
"Shit," you hissed, nearly dropping the binoculars. You handed them over and pointed towards what previously held your attention. "You see that?"
"Is that--?" Laura cut herself off before shooting you a disbelieving look. "It's him."
"With a Deadpool," you confirmed with a nod of your head.
"We should get them before someone else does," Laura suggested, handing the binoculars back to you.
You hesitated, knowing she was right, but hating the idea of seeing him again.
"I can go alone," Laura offered. You knew she also loved her Logan, but he had been like a father to her up until his final moments. Your Logan had managed to bring you nothing but pain and insecurity.
"No," you told her with a firm shake of your head. Johnny had gone off alone and now it had been almost two days since the last time you saw him. In the Void, that was as good as a death sentence. "I'll go with you."
You let the others know you were off to rescue two new recruits to the resistance and helpfully left out the fact that one of those people was a Logan variant.
Laura led the way and you followed in her tracks. You kept yourself invisible, knowing that if anyone came after Laura, then you could use your presence as a surprise. You had also learned to use your forcefields as a weapon as much as a defense and you were ready if anyone tried to attack.
Once you got to the station wagon, you let yourself become visible again. You slowly approached the car while Laura investigated the clearing for any signs that you might have been followed. You could see the Deadpool variant wrapped up in the seatbelts, but you couldn't help but let your focus stray to Logan.
He was different from your Logan, but seeing his face hurt all the same. Your Logan had taken everything from you and given nothing back except for pain. This Logan was a stranger, but he still brought up familiar feelings. Love and confusion and agony.
"Is he yours?" Laura wondered, finally joining you in your study of Logan.
"No," you assured her. "Mine would've never been caught dead in the yellow suit," you admitted with just the tiniest hint of relief. You never wanted to see your Logan again, but you couldn't help but admit to yourself that didn't mean you never wanted to see any other Logan. You were scared, terrified of the pain he might cause you, but you hadn't been able to let go of the love you held for him. You were sure, even in that moment, that you would love Logan in every universe. It was too bad he wouldn't love you just the same.
Although, you supposed you didn't really have a Logan. You never did, since the one from your universe was never yours in the first place.
Doubt and wariness began to creep in and you started to herd Laura towards the Honda you were half-sure belonged to the Nicepool variant. "You drive," you prompted, opening the passenger door seat and carefully sitting among the wreckage and blood that was practically painted on every surface of the car.
Laura started the car and you glanced over your shoulder, waiting for the two backseat occupants to stir, but they were both still knocked out.
"They really did a number on each other," you muttered, your gaze already back on Logan.
Laura was silent for long enough that you thought she was ignoring you. "It's not your Logan," she reminded you after a couple of minutes. You realized you were still watching him and finally forced yourself to turn around in your seat.
"It's not," you confirmed, studying your hands in your lap. You let them shift in and out of visibility, a nervous habit you had when you were torn between fight and flight.
"Then he's not the one who hurt you," she continued, keeping her focus on the path in front of you.
"He's not the one who saved you," you shot back. The way she looked at this Logan like she was seeing her savior miraculously alive all over again had felt like a punch in the gut. You were both mourning and the source of it had just dropped right back into your lives. "He might be worse," you pointed out.
"He might be better," she argued with a quick glance at you. "He might not even know us."
"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, silently apologizing for being so defensive. "Eric's right," you conceded with a grimace. "I need to let it go."
"Hard to let something like that go," she allowed with a soft smile at you. She was the only one who knew the full story. Johnny knew most of it and the others knew enough, but Laura had loved her own Logan like family. She knew what it was like to lose him, albeit in a very different way.
When you got back to the hideout, Laura helped free Deadpool while you formed a forcefield around Logan and used it to lift him out of the car. Charles had claimed it was a form of telekinesis, but you always told him you were just controlling the forcefield. Whatever was inside it just happened to move with it. If you dropped the forcefield, then whatever was inside it would fall.
Laura dragged Deadpool inside while you let Logan hover through the air and into the hideout. Laura left Deadpool on the floor, but you were careful with Logan and let him hover just over the bed you used before letting him go.
Laura shot you a bemused look before going to let the others know you had company.
You weren't really sure what to do with yourself, so you settled for pacing from one end of the room to the other. You were halfway across the room when you heard a rustling noise behind you. You half-hoped it was Deadpool waking up, but when you turned around, it was to see Logan squinting up at the ceiling.
You froze, not daring to move a muscle. Logan blinked a few times before he began to sit up. He stopped and then tilted his head up, sniffing the air. You had always found the way he used his enhanced sense of smell adorable, even if no one else did. He suddenly turned and buried his face in your pillow, pulling in deep breaths. He reached up to clutch the pillow in his hand as he sat up, keeping it pressed to his face.
You weren't even really sure what was going on, so by the time he finally lowered the pillow and met your gaze, you were staring at him completely dumbstruck.
Several emotions warred for control on Logan's face when he saw you. Grief, despair, heartbreak, hope, disbelief, and relief. Finally, he seemed to pull them all together into a neutral expression.
"Y/N," he started, taking a step towards you.
You instinctively took a step back. You knew that this Logan wasn't the one who hurt you, but it was hard to let all of that go when someone who looked exactly like your Logan was staring right at you.
"You're alive," he tried again, taking another step, as if he was drawn to you.
"I am," you answered, your hands clenched into fists at your side. You couldn't handle the way Logan was looking at you. He looked at you like you were his whole world. You would have killed to get your Logan to look at you like that. But having it now, from a different Logan, felt equal parts thrilling and unsettling. "Who am I to you?" You asked, needing to know what you were dealing with now. You had assumed maybe you were part of Logan's team in his universe, but he was hopelessly in love with Jean and didn't give a fuck about you. The way he was looking at you told an entirely different story.
"You're--," he started before he looked down at his left hand. You could see a wedding band around his ring finger. "You're my wife," he finally admitted as he balled his hand into a fist. "You were, at least," he added with a grimace. "And me? What am I to you in your universe?"
You didn't know whether to tell the truth or lie. But Logan had always known you way too well and any story you spun would unravel as you told it. "I loved you," you finally confessed. "But you left me for someone else," you continued, noting the way Logan's expression tightened, rage flashing in his eyes.
"Who?" He growled, advancing on you.
It was your biggest shame and worst heartbreak, so you faltered over the name for a moment. But you weren't even in the same universe as her or him anymore and it was time for you to stop running from your pain.
"Jean. He left me for Jean, alright? It didn't matter that I loved him and it didn't matter that we were together. Scott died and Jean needed someone and apparently that couldn't be anyone but him. He told me it was nothing, but I knew. He never looked at me the way you just did. He looked at her like she was the only person he cared about and when he left me for her, I ended up here," you hissed, finally walking towards Logan. "And I bet neither of them ever gave a fuck that I just up and disappeared. So, seeing you now has brought up all the shit he put me through," you snarled, reaching out to push at his shoulder.
"Y/N, I--," he started, reaching out for you. His expression was nearly reverent as he let his hand fall on your shoulder.
"Don't," you said, pushing away from him. "I'm not your wife," you snapped, hating the way his expression closed off and was replaced with that look he got when he was trying not to feel anything at all.
"And I'm not him," he shot back. His gaze drifted to the side and he reached out to grab a bottle of Remy's whiskey. He popped the top off the bottle and took a long swig.
You heard someone groan before you looked over at Deadpool. He brought a hand up to his head and Logan turned to watch him. He took another drink, keeping the bottle close to his chest, as he approached Wade.
"Ugh, what's with the angry bear staring me down?" Wade wondered, finally sitting up. "Also, where the hell are we? Are we about to be skinned and used as decoration for some post-apocalyptic lair?"
"Do you ever shut up?" Logan growled, taking another drink.
You knew it took a lot to get Logan drunk, but at the rate he was going, he would end up there by nightfall.
Deadpool finally scanned the room and noticed you. He got to his feet and pointed a finger at you. "Oh, holy shit. You're Y/N! You're a big part of this guy's tragic backstory, I can tell ya that, so what are you doing here?" Wade reached out to clap a hand to Logan's shoulder and got brushed off.
"That's enough!" Elektra called before walking into the room.
Wade looked shocked to see Elektra, but his eyes went wide at the sight of Blade striding into the room. Gambit then made his entrance before Laura took up the rear of the group.
Introductions went around, before Wade started in on Gambit and his accent. You could tell Remy was reluctantly amused, but he was distracted by something else.
Remy dismissed Wade and focused in on Logan. He shot you a quick, concerned look before he began flipping a card as he studied Logan. "Well, we've never had a Wolverine up in here before. Not sure we've ever wanted one here before," he said with another look at you. "I can tell you now it's just a common courtesy to at least ask before you go drinking up all my liquor."
"It's a good thing I don't give a fuck," Logan responded before taking another drink.
Remy's eyes burned red as he muttered an insult under his breath. He let the card in his hand go, letting it slice the bottle of liquor in half. Glass and whiskey rained down on Logan's boots, but he looked unbothered. He reached out to grab another bottle before pulling the top off and taking a drink.
"Oh, you sure are an asshole, aren't you? I'm starting to see why you hate this one," Remy continued, aiming the last sentence at you.
"You hate him?" Wade asked, whipping his head back and forth, from you to Logan and back again. Wade gasped and turned to point an accusing finger at Logan. "You and you," he pointed to you, "aren't a you in your universe?" He pressed his hands together, letting his fingers interlock. "What'd he do? Was he too busy practicing his brooding in the mirror? He try to slip you a little adamantium surprise in the bedroom? Did he--"
"Shut up," Logan snapped, tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand.
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you admonished Wade.
Wade held his hands up in surrender, but he reached out to put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, my friend," he consoled before he approached you. He held his arms out as he walked towards you. "Come here, baby bird, and tell Papa Deadpool all about it," he said as he wrapped his arms around you.
"Get your hands off her," Logan growled, unsheathing his claws.
You brought a forcefield up between you and Wade. It was big enough to encompass his chest and abdomen and you used it to forcefully push him back. You slammed him into the wall, easing up, just to slam him into it again.
"Alright, alright," he coughed out, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't piss off the Invisible Woman, got it," he conceded as you let your forcefield drop.
You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. "That's not what they call me." The reminder of Johnny's sister brought up the worry you had for him. "Where the hell did you two come from?"
Wade did most of the talking and explained about the TVA, Cassandra, and their near-miss with Alioth.
"No one's ever made it out of Cassandra's clutches before," Elektra observed with something verging on respect in her tone.
"No one alive," Eric interjected with an unimpressed glare at Deadpool.
"Well, she is quite terrifying and a little grabby," Wade allowed with a nod of his head.
"One of ours has been missing for two days," you told Wade, carefully not looking at Logan. Logan had been watching you the whole time and you knew he was only mourning a ghost, but you hated how much you liked finally having Logan's undivided attention. "His name is Johnny. Did you see him?"
"The little flameball might've made an appearance, sure, but he's not with us," Wade explained with a flippant wave of his hand.
"Yeah, because you fucking got him killed with your big mouth," Logan snapped at Wade.
"Johnny's dead?" You asked, not wanting to believe it. You loved the others like family, but Johnny had practically been a brother to you. Sure, he let his mouth get him in trouble half the time, but he always managed to get himself out of it. "What the hell happened?"
"Cassandra decided she liked his insides on the outside," Wade answered, "because she's a megalomaniacal, psychotic asshole. Johnny’s words, not mine."
"Well, we've all been knowin' that," Remy said, idly shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "But what're we gonna do about her, huh? She's got an army and we've just got us."
"Look, you've all been forgotten by your universes, but we can still take her if we team up. You got a Magneto here?" Wade questioned, hope in his voice that you knew was about to be crushed.
You moved to sit down at the table while you listened to the conversation carry on. There was a lot happening all at once and you didn’t know how to process any of it. Wade was desperate to get back to his own timeline, but Logan only seemed resigned. You didn't know how to accept the fact that Johnny was dead and you didn't know how to ignore the fact that Logan was still watching you.
When a plan was made to go after Cassandra and use Juggernaut's helmet to block her powers, you reluctantly agreed that it had some merit. If only because you wanted to get any type of revenge on Cassandra that you could to avenge Johnny.
The others were all on board and you knew most of them wanted nothing more than to bring Cassandra down as well. It was a suicide mission for most of you, but you figured if it meant stopping Cassandra and saving someone's universe, even if that someone was Wade Wilson, then it might be worth it.
"I'm in," you found yourself saying.
"Like hell you are," Logan cut in. "You'll just get yourself killed again and I can't--"
"I'm not dead," you pointed out, aware that the others were watching the pair of you. "I'm right here, because I'm not the one you lost."
"Well, I sure as hell don't want to go losing you again. You can't tell me you think this whackjob's plan is actually going to work out? He’s an idiot."
“Sticks and stones,” Wade muttered, rocking on his heels as he looked at Logan. “Sticks and stones.”
"You can do whatever you want," you told Logan, finally standing from your seat at the table. "But I'm going and if I die? Then at least I die doing something that's not just hiding and waiting for my inevitable end. At least I can help someone, even if it's a Deadpool," you said, gesturing towards Wade.
"Thanks?" Wade tried, sounding torn between flattered and insulted.
You didn't give Logan a chance to reply, because you left the room, opting to walk outside to get some distance from him.
Later, you heard from Remy that you were heading out first thing in the morning. You agreed to be ready by then and spent the rest of the evening invisible. You wanted to be alone, but you also hated the idea of losing one last opportunity to talk to Logan, even if he wasn't yours.
He was outside, staring into the fire he started, and steadily drinking Remy's liquor. You approached him as Laura was leaving his side. Even though you were still invisible, she seemed to know you were there, and walked around you.
You stayed a few feet behind him, watching him frown into the fire.
"I know you're there," Logan called out, turning to look over his shoulder. "You were never good at hiding from me."
You let yourself go visible before you continued to walk towards him. "My Logan didn't really give a shit about me, so I guess he knew where to find me, he just didn't care," you observed with a sigh. Having this Logan around was only showing you what you had missed out on in your universe with your Logan. You reached out to grab the bottle from Logan before taking a drink and handing it back. "You know, I wanted nothing more than for him to love me back. But I wasn't enough for him. And he knew, he knew everything I felt for him, but he never felt the same. I was just someone to warm his bed while his thoughts were with someone else."
Logan was quiet for a few moments before he held the bottle back out to you.
"You've made it clear you're not my wife," he started, keeping his gaze on the fire. "But I don't think you get that I'm not him. I see you and, God, I wish I could keep you safe. I wasn't able to save her. I wasn't able to save any of them and it's my fault my team, my family, my wife are all gone. I walked away and they died because of it," he admitted and you could see a tear begin to slip down his cheek. You had never seen your Logan so vulnerable and you didn't know what to do with this one. "I don't want to lose you again. I know you're not her, but I don't want to walk away and know that you died because of it."
"Then don't walk away," you whispered, moving until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat emanating off him and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had felt the chilling sense of isolation for so long that feeling Logan again felt like you were coming back to life.
"I know I wasn't happy to see you," you allowed with a grimace. "But since you got here, you've done nothing but remind me that I could have had what I wanted all along, but I was stuck in the wrong damn universe. And maybe it was possible for my Logan to love me all along and I just wasn't enough."
"Your Logan is a fucking idiot," he growled, finally looking at you. "You're here in this shithole because of him and you're ready to sacrifice yourself for someone you don't even know. He was the one who wasn't good enough. I guess I'm more like him than I would want to be."
You took a chance and reached out to grab Logan's hand. You were both grieving different people and you knew you weren't his wife, but you wanted to offer him comfort all the same. You also couldn't deny that the feeling of Logan's hand in yours felt like a balm for the pain you had been carrying around since falling into the Void.
His hand tightened around yours and you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.
"You're enough, Logan," you assured him. "And I believe in you," you confessed. "You don't have to go tomorrow, but I'm going to be there. And if this is the last moment I ever get with you, then there's one thing I want to do."
Logan furrowed his brow in confusion before his expression smoothed out into surprise. You had leaned forward, just barely letting your lips brush his, waiting for him to either lean in or push you away.
You waited for a beat longer, sure you were making an idiot of yourself, before you felt Logan's hand at your hip. He pulled you closer, practically into his lap, as he returned the kiss. It was passionate and tender and in turns aggressive and searching. His tongue was twined around yours and his teeth were nipping at your lips and your head was beginning to spin from the rush. Logan let out a whimper and his hand clutched your hip tighter, and you knew you were going to have a bruise there by the next morning, but you didn’t mind that there would be a reminder of this moment.
You reluctantly pulled away, meeting his eyes and noticing how Logan looked like he was ready to drag you back into another kiss.
"Thank you," you whispered, reaching up a hand to brush your thumb over his bottom lip. You let it drag down briefly and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to it. Your Logan had been rough and demanding and uncaring, but the love and want this Logan had poured into the kiss had shown you what it would have been like for the love of your life to love you back. Maybe, with that memory, your death the next day would be a little sweeter.
"Y/N," Logan started, but didn't continue.
You offered him a sad smile and started to stand. "I should try to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."
You moved to leave, but Logan reached out and grabbed your hand. He reeled you back towards him, causing you to drop down into his lap, but he caught you by the hips. He wrapped his arms around your waist and trailed his hand up your back before it was resting against the back of your neck. He pulled you down into another kiss, this one just as intense, but less frenzied. Logan kept you in place with just the slightest pressure of his hand on your neck and you let him pour everything he had into it.
By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and speechless, reluctant to leave now that you had another taste of him.
"I'll see you in the morning," Logan promised, finally releasing you from his hold.
It took you while to shake off your daze, but then you realized what he was telling you.
You felt a smile tug at your lips before you got off his lap.
"See you in the morning," you agreed before leaving Logan in search of your bed.
The drive in the Honda Odyssey was cramped, but Wade insisted if it could house an all-night brawl between a Deadpool and a Wolverine, then it would hold the rest of you just fine all the way to Cassandra's lair. And then he started spouting off something about safety features and cup holders and you started to wonder if following his plan had been the dumbest thing you had ever done.
You found yourself sneaking glances at Logan at the rear of the car. He was watching you the whole time and every time your eyes met, a little spark of heat shot through you. Maybe he wasn't your Logan, but he had helped you begin to heal all the same. And now you were starting to fall for an entirely different Logan who was likely leaving the Void while you stayed behind and died to get him out.
Life had never been fair to you, but you hated that it was downright cruel to you as well.
By the time you were arriving at Cassandra’s, you were starting to wonder if there had ever been a happy ending for you in store or if it was just supposed to be one tragedy after another.
You lined up with the others as you faced down Cassandra's henchmen. You could see Azazel popping in and out of view and Psylocke trailing through the crowd. Juggernaut was staring down the group while Toad perched high above, a smirk on his face. There were dozens of them and you had no idea how you were going to pull it off, but even if you did die, at least it was to save someone's universe, even if it wasn't your own.
"You know how long I've been waiting for this? Ooohuee, I'm about to make a name for myself here," Remy boasted, eagerly bouncing on his feet while he began to charge a card.
"I don't think any of you walk away from this," Logan pointed out, sending a quick glance your way.
"You just make sure they know what happened here today," Remy continued, not seeming to care that he was staring death right in the face.
"We'll watch your six," Blade told Logan and Wade. "You get up there and we'll get you that helmet."
Before he could follow Wade, Logan turned to you and pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one full of longing and grief. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured into the kiss.
You pulled back to meet his eyes, ignoring the fact that you felt like you were losing him all over again. "What you're fighting for is more important," you told him. "Maybe we'll meet again in another universe."
"Maybe," he agreed before kissing you again.
This one was brief, but it left you wanting more.
You watched Logan follow Wade before you were caught up in the fight between your friends and Cassandra's lackies.
The fight was terrifying, because the stakes were so high. You flickered in and out of visibility as needed and used your forcefields to protect your friends or attack your enemies. You used a forcefield to gather rocks and then propelled it into someone just to turn invisible to avoid someone's knife.
You were exhausted as the battle waged on and you knew that circumstances were beginning to look dire for you and your friends. Most of you were hurt and bleeding, and the fight was beginning to drain out of you.
You got distracted by Laura taking Juggernaut out and managing to get his helmet up to where Logan and Wade were no doubt dealing with Cassandra despite Psylocke intervening. You moved towards them, but you felt a searing pain in your side and you looked down to see the end of Azazel’s tail sticking through your flesh.
He jerked you back towards him and a blade sliced through his tail, freeing you. You were quick to form a forcefield around Azazel before he could escape and you began to press in on the sides, shrinking it down so he had nowhere to go. You could see him trying to teleport out, but it wasn’t working, and a look of panic flashed across his face.
You kept pressing in until his skin started to split and blood began to pour. All at once, you swept the sides in, watching as Azazel was crushed. You let the forcefield go and watched as his remains fell to the ground with a splat.
“You squashed him like a bug,” Eric observed with a nod of his head, cleaning Azazel’s blood off his blade. “Impressive.”
“Thanks,” you smiled at Blade, glancing down at the gash in your side.
“Keep your head,” he warned you just as someone rushed at you. You went invisible and stepped to the side, letting them impale themselves on Eric’s sword.
The battle took twists and turns, but after getting stabbed in the shoulder and nearly losing consciousness when someone hit you on the back of the head, you realized that the bodies were starting to drop, but your friends were still standing.
You figured your victory would be short-lived when the skies began to darken and Alioth showed on the horizon.
“He’s looking for a meal,” Elektra grunted, avoiding a hit to the side before using one of her twin sais to bring someone to their knees. She finished them off with a strike to their neck before she turned to look at the rest of you. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
You were distracted by a portal opening up in the air above you and you looked up in time to see Logan and Wade jumping through it.
Someone grabbed your arm and you instinctively moved to hit them, but you realized it was Elektra.
"Come on!" She yelled over the roar of Alioth and pulled you to cover inside Cassandra's lair.
"That was a close one," Remy said as he helped Blade into the makeshift shelter.
"But they got away," Laura pointed out with a small, satisfied smile.
"And we got to kill the fuckers that've been making our lives hell," Remy added with a grin. "Any of you see that one trick I pulled? I got the cards charged up and then guy went boom."
He looked so pleased with himself that you couldn’t stop the helpless little laugh you let out. The past few days had felt absurd and surreal, and you couldn’t even tell if it was all some fever dream. Maybe Remy had spiked his liquor to keep unsuspecting people out of it and you were currently back in the hideout, riding out one terrifying trip.
But when you twisted to the side, you felt like your side was splitting open all over again and you let out a gasp. Elektra knelt at your side, studying your wound with a frown.
"So, what happens now? Are we just stuck here until we know it's clear? We go back to our hideout and wait forever? Half of us need some kind of medical attention,” she pointed out, searching around her until she found a discarded jacket. She pressed it against your side and you let out a hiss of pain.
"Well, we didn't die, so at least there’s that," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. "I figure we've earned some retirement. Even if we're still stuck here," you allowed with a wince as you pressed a hand to your shoulder. The wound was deep and still bleeding, but you figured you had suffered worse before. You were going to need stitches and painkillers and some more of Remy’s liquor, but at least you were still breathing.
You weren't sure how long you waited for the storm to pass, but by the time you got back outside, it was already dark. Most of the bodies were gone, consumed by Alioth, and you leaned into Elektra’s side as she helped you navigate the various body parts left behind.
"Think the car will make it back?" Remy wondered, surveying the Odyssey with its crushed sides and flat tires. It was practically drenched in blood and viscera, nearly indistinguishable as a vehicle.
"Why don't you start it up and see?" Eric prompted, looking at Gambit like he thought he was a special kind of stupid. “Maybe we can ride one of your little cards back to the hideout. How far can you throw them?”
"That won't be necessary," a voice interrupted, startling you.
A portal had opened up to your left and a woman had walked through it. She had soldiers behind her who were wearing uniforms with a TVA logo stamped on the right arm.
"Wade Wilson struck a deal for all of you," the woman continued, surveying the group. "It's time for all of you to go home."
“Home?” Remy repeated with a skeptical look at the rest of you. “What if we don’t have a home?”
“Then wherever you’d like to be,” she amended. “With conditions, of course.”
It turned out that Wade and Logan not only saved Wade's universe, but every universe. Cassandra had wanted nothing to exist except for the Void where she reigned and both of them had managed to stop her.
You never considered that your fight with Cassandra’s minions wound end with anything except for your death. You certainly never thought you would have the option to leave the Void.
You definitely didn't want to return home, so you asked if you could stay in Wade's universe. Logan and Laura had opted to stay as well and since your variant had never been born in Wade’s universe, you were welcome to stay. It felt like you were getting the opportunity to carve out the kind of life you wanted all along. One where you knew you would be welcome and wanted without fearing that you would be abandoned for someone else.
Now, you were sitting around a table with Wade's family and the beginnings of a new one for you. Laura was sitting to your left and Logan to your right and you couldn't help but feel like this was where you had belonged all along.
Logan had admitted that he wasn't allowed to try to save the people in his universe, but he wanted to be whatever you needed or wanted him to be in your new one. You knew that was a daunting order for someone like Logan, so you settled for telling him that you wanted to start at the beginning.
You wanted to get to know this Logan, because even though you already loved him, you knew that you wanted a clean slate. One where you weren’t comparing him to your universe’s Logan and one where you gave him every opportunity to show you that he was better. You also didn’t want him to just see the ghost of his wife in you, so you wanted him to get to know you.
You soaked up the love and laughter that flowed through the room and met Logan's gaze. You weren't even surprised to see that he was already watching you. You reached out to grab his hand, delighting in the way he immediately welcomed your touch.
You no longer felt forgotten and hopeless. Everything you had yearned for, fought for, in your old life had quite literally dropped right into your new one and you couldn't have been more grateful for another shot at happiness.
From the way Logan smiled at you and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it, you knew he was just as appreciative at the opportunity to turn his life back around.
"Thank you," you whispered to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.
"Nothing to thank me for," he answered before dropping another kiss on the crowd of your head.
You wanted to argue with him and tell him that he had saved you, but you figured you would tell him later. For now, you were going to enjoy the feeling of belonging you felt and look forward to the fact that there would be a later with Logan.
Edited To Add: I am writing a sequel! It's going to involve Cable (even though he didn't test well) and Logan getting payback on reader's original Wolverine on her behalf and a whole bunch of other fun surprises!! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!
The sequel is HERE for anyone interested!
This is now a whole series! Main post for the series is HERE.
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johnslittlespoon · 6 months ago
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morning reblog + snippet <3 need to get in the habit of doing this but somehow once the chapter is actually posted i get nervous despite sharing bits and pieces the whole time i'm writing lol?? silly!
sappy but waking up to the ao3 comment emails had me giggling kicking my feet twirling my hair this morning, i rly do tear up reading them, i'm so so thankful for every interaction on this fic and ik i repeat myself every time i post a new chapter but i just. appreciate the love so much and i'm so grateful for the patience i've been shown as i navigate a proper long fic for the first time!! wowie
idk what i did to deserve stumbling into a fandom so kind and sweet and supportive and INSANELY creative and talented (simultaneously thanking barry and hating him for getting me attached to that precious little lieutenant and then ripping him away just as fast fml), i genuinely feel so lucky to have something to be excited about every day and as much as i love writing this fic, i can't wait to be done so i can lock in and pour over all my friends' fics and give back so much love :')))
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You're A Dog (I'm Your Man)
Ch. 5/8 – 'I Count My Time In Dog Years'
[WC: 27K | Gale Cleven/John Egan, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Requited Unrequited Love]
John Egan loves like a dog.
[AO3 LINK]
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#dog coded bucky fic#buckbucky#i swear every time i post a new chapter i disappear for at least 12 hours bc i get that nervous and yet i yap 24/7 here why#it's not like i expect bad responses or anything like no one's ever been anything but kind but i still feel so vulnerable hitting publish#i've been writing fic on and off for at least a decade now and i don't Think i used to get this much stage fright??#i think maybe i just haven't cared this much about a project like. ever. it's scary putting ur soul into something even fanfic#anyway hashtag imposter syndrome hashtag morning musings hashtag does anyone else confidently post their fics or are we all anxious xoxo#as always had to be sappy under the read more i just feel like i can't ever adequately express my thanks#like i'll never get over how thankful i am to have found passion thru this fandom when i did. i needed it then/now more than ever <3#+ will always feel so lucky for the friends i've made here! genuinely never met so many mf cool people in a fandom n it makes my heart happ#nah bc if i get this sappy now i'm terrified for the fuckin dissertation i'm gonna be writing out at the end of this fic#sorry in advance hopefully y'all just smile and nod and move along it's probs gonna be disgusting xoxo#okay taking my tag privileges away and getting more writing done yippieeee insert dolphin and rainbows and sun pic#actually also. i've had my paypal hacked like 3 times this year (idk maybe i'm a dumb bitch but like i'm broke idk why they target me JSDGJ#so when i wake up to 10+ emails i immediately have flashbacks and think it's happened again and i'm gonna have to sit on call w support#and then turns out i've just forgotten i posted a fic before bed and instead i get to read cute comments and weep <3 yay
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haikyuuhoo · 1 year ago
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tired eyes
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pairing: gojo x reader
wc: 790
warnings: light angst, minor manga spoilers
a/n: tagging @shotorus in this bc sel your sleepy gojo thoughts made me unable to stop thinking about this idea I've wanted to write. I know this is so different to the vibes of what you were talking about but I figured you deserved the tag since this lil drabble finally made its way out of my head bc of you <3 (pls don't feel like you need to read this I'm nervy just tagging you lol)
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Gojo’s keys clang loudly against the bowl on the table in the entryway, and he has half a mind to cringe at the noise, seeing as it’s so late and you’re probably asleep by now. He unzips his jacket as he drags his feet in the direction of the bedroom, heaving out a sigh and finally letting his shoulders relax a little, letting some of the tension he’s been harboring for days leave his body. He's so tired that he feels like he could fall asleep in his clothes without even crawling beneath the duvet, though he knows he should at least shower first. But that's all forgotten when he steps into the warm glow spilling into the hallway from the light on your nightstand, and he hesitates for a moment when he notices that you're not asleep—in fact, you're very much awake, like you've been waiting for him.
Your gaze darts up when you see the figure in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up your face. “You’re home,” you say as you set aside the book you were reading and pull your headphones off.
Gojo raises an eyebrow, making his way to the edge of the bed where you rise onto your knees to meet him. “You’re still up?”
And you nod, shrugging one shoulder slightly as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Of course. Can’t really sleep well when I’m waiting for you to come back from a mission, ya know?” You say it so casually, but it makes him frown knowing you’re referring to the nineteen agonizing days he was gone from you. You lean in to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss that has him grasping your waist and pulling you flush against him.
“Well, as much as I wish you wouldn’t stay up just for me, I’m glad you did,” he murmurs into your mouth.
“Mmm,” is all you hum in response, pushing your fingertips underneath his blindfold. And then you kiss his nose, then his forehead, and then briefly his lips again.
And those lips fall into probably the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “You gonna take it off?” he asks, his voice low, and normally the tone would have you moving quickly to take everything off of him, but not tonight. Tonight, his voice is low with exhaustion, and you'd noticed the way it seemed to seep into his bones the moment he entered the room.
“No,” you say softly, and he nearly whines, “you’re tired. Your eyes—” You gently let your fingertips smooth across his eyelids over the blindfold “—I’m sure they need the rest.”
Gojo had a penchant for coming home with migraines after missions, all that time with his blindfold off to help him fight draining him and making his eyes even more sensitive than normal, and you’re sure tonight is no different.
“But I want to see you.”
The corner of your mouth tilts up. “I may not know exactly how your technique works, Satoru, but I know you can see me.”
And this time he does whine, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead against yours. “You know it’s not the same. I wanna see you.”
You hum, stringing him along like you’re thinking about it and toying with the edge of the black fabric. “Okay,” you finally say, “just a peek, yeah?” Before he even has a chance to respond you're lifting it off and dropping it to the side. His hair falls around his face, messier than it normally is, and you gently brush it back.
Gojo blinks a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the light, and your chest tightens at the sleepy smile he gives you, at the way his eyes seem dimmer than usual. “Hi,” he whispers.
And you’re suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion that has you blinking back tears. “Hi.” You cup his face again, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “I missed you.”
He flashes you a grin. “Aww, no need to miss me too much, you know I can’t stay away from you.”
And you both know it’s his attempt to lighten the mood, to pretend that someday there's going to be a time when you’re not waiting up for him, when you can be at peace despite knowing his responsibilities will always take him away for days at a time, when he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—when there's not a very real possibility that someday he may not come home to you.
So you decide that today you two will pretend, and you let your tears fall, giving him a wobbly smile. “I know.”
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reblogs & comments always appreciated <3
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stjohnstarling · 7 months ago
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I've been astonished by how much people seem to love my weird and experimental project held together by duct tape and string, especially since so much of it flies in the face of the way I've been taught publishing is supposed to work. The conventional way authors survive online is to release books for sale as frequently as possible - whereas I've been focusing on giving each project as much time as I can, and releasing them slowly (so far I've done a Dracula-inspired novel.) I’ve been making the sort of transgressive queer writing that mainstream publishing is too nervous to touch right now, and I've been giving it away in my newsletter for free.
I want to keep telling stories for free, forever. Only there's one problem: I'm going to need A Lot more subscribers to my newsletter. I have just under 5000 readers right now - I’m going to need at least double that.
Conventional wisdom also says that Tumblr is a dead end, but I'm convinced that this is one of the last places on the internet that capable of fostering real, counter-cultural queer expression - precisely because we are so often left out and forgotten by the mainstream. Half the reason I'm on this website is because of the culture of absolute resistance to advertising. Unfortunately, that also makes my job here rather hard. If things continue to go well, between Patreon, sales of special editions, and a couple small ads, I think I can just about get away with doing this. But I need your help.
If you're someone who's hungry for good stories and:
❧ You're sick of being sold superficial, safe, and sanitized queer stories that shy away from genuine expressions of socially unacceptable desire
❧ You see sexual freedom as inseparable from queer liberation, and you want to see that explored in metaphor via a vampire seducing a priest
❧ You want to read modern queer fiction that's aware of the deep and rich history of queer culture
❧ You want to help foster a project that would create new avenues for underground and transgressive forms of queer expression
Then you should subscribe to What Manner of Man! It's sexy and boundary-pushing and kinky, with fire in its veins.
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If this works, I'll be able to take on bigger and more ambitious projects than I ever have before (it's mad scientists next, and I have some pretty mad ideas!)
Thank you for your time! Reblogs deeply appreciated.
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elumish · 9 months ago
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Issues I've Seen In Recent Books I've Read (Part 1)
In no particular order:
Contrived explanations for things both characters would know. I was reading a book recently where a character who worked for the CIA asked another character for the CIA if the CIA used to torture people, which then briefly turned into an explainer about the CIA's history of torture and why it was bad. The issue here is that the fact that the CIA used to torture people is common knowledge (presumably especially for people who work there), and it just feels like a hamfisted way of explaining it to the reader.
Every character having the same reaction to the same thing. In that same book series, every time any character came out to anyone (and this was a gay book series, so it happened a lot), the character who they came out to said some version of, almost verbatim, "Thank you for entrusting me with that." Not every character is going to have the same literal reaction to something, and this is a great way to show characterization--how does this character react, rather than how does every character react?
Characters accepting things too quickly. Sexual awakenings took five minutes and single therapy sessions were enough to entirely rewrite characters' mindsets on core issues of their identity and how they're living their lives, which is a quick and handy way of speeding things up in writing but begins to strain credulity for the reader pretty quickly.
Forgotten injuries until they become necessary. In a different series, I see a common issue that authors have when they write an injured character: they ignore the injury unless it's plot relevant. An aggressive and traumatizing injury to an arm wasn't mentioned for long swaths of time, including whether it hurt--until a different character would see it. It was mentioned that it was getting infected--but nothing ever came of that. Injuries are often treated as ignorable unless Something Happens, while in real life they tend to be noticeable more continuously.
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vampiredaisiesss · 2 months ago
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touch me — d.w. x reader
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synopsis - you run your knuckles through the stubble littering his cheeks. your fingers travel upwards, thumb tracing his crow's feet. the lines on his face have deepened as he's grown older as has his hair gotten lighter. you find him all the more beautiful like this.
trigger warning - older dean winchester (early 40s) with younger reader (early 20s)
He thinks about time, about how it marks you, about how each silver strand falling to the floor is another reminder of all the years between the two of you.
The harsh glare of the bathroom light is unforgiving, casting every line on his face into sharp focus. Dean watches your reflection in the mirror. The gentle snip-snip echoes off the tile walls as you work the scissor over his hair, your lip caught between your teeth.
Steam still clings to the bathroom mirror from your shower, making the edges of your reflection soft, dream-like. Your tank top's damp where his hair falls against it, and there's something so domestic about this moment it makes his chest ache.
You hum "Hey Jude" while you work, because of course you know that's what Mary sang when she cut his hair. Of course you know that's what he sometimes hummed in his sleep whenever he'd have a nightmare.
"You're thinking too loud, again," you murmur, running your fingers through the short hairs at his nape.
"I've got shirts older than you," he says finally, the words tasting bitter on tongue.
You laugh out loud, and it sounds like every good thing he probably doesn't deserve. "And they're all flannel, and they all smell like gunpowder and cheap liquor that you probably spilled on them two decades ago, but never got dry-cleaned, and I love them." Your smile turns soft at the edges. "Just like I love the man wearing them."
"Kid—" he starts, but you cut him off.
"Don't 'kid' me, Dean Winchester. Not when you're balls deep inside me every night." You pause for just enough time to fix him a determined stare, and he offers you a small smile.
"You think I don't know who I'm choosing? You think I haven't counted every scar, every gray hair, every year you spent saving the world before I was old enough to know it needed saving?"
The scissor is forgotten on the countertop as you run your knuckles through the stubble littering his cheeks. Your fingers travel upwards, thumb tracing his crow's feet. The lines on his face have deepened as he's grown older as has his hair gotten lighter.
You find him all the more beautiful like this.
Dean's throat tightens. You're stripping him bare with your touch. "Exactly. You could have anyone. Someone who—"
He swallows hard, but he's smiling now. His chest feels heavier with something else. "When you say it like that, sounds like I should be in a museum, not your bed."
"Someone who what? Someone who hasn't survived forty years in hell? Someone who doesn't wake up reaching for a weapon? Someone who doesn't understand why I keep rock salt by the bed and devil's traps under the rugs?" You shake her head. "I don't want easy, Dean. I want you."
"There," you say finally, brushing loose hair from his neck. Your lips find that sensitive spot behind his ear, and he can feel you smile against his skin.
"Please," You chuckle. Your hands slide back into his hair, resuming cutting. "Museums are for looking, not touching. "And I'm very..." snip "...very..." snip "...fond of touching you."
"Touch me," he says, and it comes out like a prayer he never learned properly – rough and wanting and holy all at once. It curls around your heart in the shape of Dean's hand.
He reaches up, catches your hand before you can move away.
You touch him like you're reading braille, like every freckle on his body has a story to tell. Your lips trace constellations across the map of blue veins over his body. And when you finally put your lips on the scar along the side of his hip — the first ever souvenir he collected on his skin — you feel the smallest tremor in his breath. It’s so faint, but unmistakable, and for a moment, you could almost swear you made Dean Winchester mewl.
And you do.
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ckret2 · 2 months ago
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Pictured above: a shape's eye view of the end of the world.
The second dimension has burned; and Bill's been accidentally setting the second dimension's neighbors on fire. At the moment, the Axolotl is trying really, really hard to convince himself that these two facts are unrelated. Here, have a fic.
This is chapter 5 of an ongoing fic about the Axolotl in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre as Bill just keeps on committing atrocities. If you wanna read the earlier chapters (and/or look at more pretty art of Bill committing horrors and the Ax witnessing horrors), here's chapters one, two, three, and four.
####
As soon as the Axolotl and the Time Giant exited Dimension Zero, they were greeted with a faceful of rain. Apparently the storm cloud with the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force had been waiting for them. "The fires in the remaining dimensions around 2Δ are finally acting like normal fires," it said. "No teleporting around, no more targeting the mortals. We've got the worst ones under control. Think we'll save about 40% of Dimension 2 Zeta and 30% of Dimension 2 Epsilon. Whatever you two did in there, it helped."
"Yeah, well." The Time Giant shrugged, nearly dislodging the Axolotl from his perch draped over her shoulder. "It was one of those problems that fixes itself once you figure out what it is."
So the Time Giant had been right. The triangle's attempts to rescue "his" "people" and to stabilize his strange underworld in Dimension Zero had been what was destabilizing all the other dimensions. As much of a relief as it was to hear the situation was improving... part of the Axolotl had hoped that the fires were still as untamed as ever—because that would have meant the triangle wasn't guilty of perpetuating the blaze.
(If the triangle wasn't actively working to keep Dimension Zero stable, how much longer until it collapsed and erased all its imprisoned souls from existence? Would it be long enough to get them all out?)
The cloud asked, "So, did you find out what destroyed 2Δ?" Right. The Axolotl had almost forgotten that was what they'd originally been looking for.
The Time Giant shook her head grimly. "Didn't see any sign of it. But I've got a suspicion who did it."
The Axolotl said sharply, "All we have is circumstantial evidence." And he'd ripped into more than one god who'd tried to damn a mortal based on circumstantial evidence. 
The cloud's sunbeam darted between their faces. Slowly, it said, "I take it you mean our triangular friend. I don't have any proof yet about the original fire; but he's been spreading the fire, I know that much."
"How did you know?" the Axolotl asked. He and the Time Giant had only just learned it themselves inside Dimension Zero.
"We've been interviewing some refugees while you were out. I—think you'll want to speak to them." The cloud directed this statement to the Axolotl.
The Time Giant said, "Later. The triangle says he's willing to move his people to another dimension." She gestured toward VENDOR, flanked by the two cops THEY'd apparently adopted as THEIR personal escorts. THEY were ranting into a phone that the crab-looking cop was holding up for them. "So we've gotta go discuss refugee stuff with Vendy McVendface."
"VENDOR," the cloud corrected.
"Vend 'er? I hardly even know 'er!"
The gods turned to stare at the border of Dimension Zero as the triangle laughed at his own joke until he wheezed. "I had to. It was sitting right there! It woulda been a crime not to pick it up!" His cackles slowly petered out. "What, no laughs? Maybe the joke doesn't translate."
The Time Giant shrugged. "I kinda thought it was funny."
"Ah, whatever."
"Have you been listening the whole time?" the Axolotl asked, not sure whether to be amused or mortified.
"Don't worry about it, I've got something more important to say." He zipped up along the surface of Dimension Zero's border until he was eye level with the Time Giant. "Hey, Hourglass. I didn't say I'm ready to move my people. I said I'm ready to talk about moving. Your guy better sell me on it. If your offer isn't worth it, we're not leaving."
"Are you serious?" She screwed up her face. "Ain't not being erased from existence worth it?"
"I have very high standards. And there are fates worse than death."
"Name one."
The triangle only thought about it a second before he answered, "Captivity."
####
It wasn't until the Axolotl and the Time Giant left the border of Dimension Zero that the Axolotl realized, the moment the triangle had shown up, the storm cloud had disappeared. It was now drizzling surreptitiously near VENDOR, waiting for them to catch up.
As they approached VENDOR, the Time Giant said, "You should give VENDOR the news."
The Axolotl gave her an affronted look. "Why me?" This wasn't his responsibility. He hadn't been hired to do a job here. He shouldn't even be here; he was essentially an over-involved lookie-loo.
"You'd be better at talking to 'em. You move in the same circles."
"I'm not a politician, I'm a lawyer."
"I'm an engineer." She took the Axolotl off her shoulder and nudged his butt to set him gently floating in VENDOR's direction.
The Axolotl twisted around to give her a resentful look, but swam toward the vending machine.
THEY ignored the Axolotl until THEY finished THEIR current call, at which point THEY snapped, "What?" and he explained the situation. Blessedly, THEY didn't ask any further questions or give him any instructions; THEY just grumbled, "Finally," and told the crab cop, "Call the Vitruvian Mandala—we'll need to find places for another ten million 2D refugees."
"And 1D," the Axolotl said.
"Yes, yes." THEY muttered under THEIR fan, "And hopefully we'll get that triangle to the afterlife he deserves and be done with him."
The Axolotl doubted THEY meant a serene eternal paradise. Pointedly, he said, "Which afterlife he goes to is his choice."
Afterlife law was his speciality. Not cases like "based on this mortal's good and bad deeds, which form has she earned for her next reincarnation?" or "has this soul earned entry into his religion's realm of the wicked, the good, or the heroic?" Those were decided on the local level.
Rather, he tended to handle inter-pantheon, sometimes even interdimensional, cases—like, "if a mortal born on one planet lives and dies on another planet, which world's afterlife has claim to his soul?" "Is a soul's right to return to her native afterlife forfeit if she's apprehended in another god's jurisdiction for crimes against reality?" "Can a death god in a dimension where wandering ghosts are banned incarcerate a ghost from a dimension where wandering is legal?" "How does a soul's right to claim an afterlife weigh against an afterlife's right to claim a soul?" "Who has the right to judge a deceased mortal in the first place?"
The Axolotl personally thought that mortals deserved to be treated as mercifully as possible—starting with respecting the dead's own choice of afterlife above all others, and ending with outlawing damnation at the interdimensional level.
The rest of the multiverse... didn't agree with him yet. He didn't intend to stop until they did.
He went on, "Case law has long established that unless the dead made other arrangements premortem, they will be taken to—in order—the afterlife of their birth, their death, or their choice. The afterlife under whose jurisdiction the triangle lived and died has been destroyed, so he can go to any afterlife that says they're willing to take him, whether or not you think it's what he deserves—"
VENDOR's camera rolled and THEY impatiently beeped acknowledgment. "Do you mind, I'm on the phone." THEY turned THEIR back on the Axolotl to focus on THEIR next call. Yeah, most gods didn't like being told they couldn't just smite and damn whoever they felt like.
The storm cloud called the Axolotl's attention with a fork of lightning. It said, "I'll need to help coordinate the rescue efforts with VENDOR. I can get the report on what you learned in there from the engineering inspector; but you need to go talk to some of the witnesses of the fire. Maybe you should ask the Vitruvian Mandala when He's free."
That was the second time it had told him to talk to the refugees. "Why?"
"You said that yellow triangle's your friend, right?"
"I... did, yes."
The cloud didn't explain any further. It only said, "Be careful around him."
####
VENDOR bustled around making preparations to receive ten million new refugees with absolutely no input from anyone else on the scene; the cloud's time was split between coordinating with the ATTF and getting a full debrief from the Time Giant on the conditions inside Dimension Zero; and left alone, the Axolotl found himself staring into the roiling barrier around the bloated singularity.
He swore, no matter where he looked, in the center of his view he could see a tiny, yellow, triangular pinprick of light, like an afterimage burned into his retina. No matter how deeply he looked into Dimension Zero, somehow his eyes always seemed focused on the triangle, making it appear nearer and then farther, like an optical illusion.
Be careful around him. He wished his Oracle were here to ask him questions. Helping her mortal mind make sense of this whole affair might help him make sense of it himself.
He'd seen the horror in the triangle's eye when he realized that he was the one incinerating the dimensions that had once bordered his own. He'd heard the sincerity in the triangle's voice when he said he could feel the deaths of every life that fell into his dream realm—the deaths that he himself was causing. He'd felt the guilt pouring from the triangle when he realized his efforts to save "his people" from being killed were what was killing them. Whatever else the Axolotl knew, he was sure the triangle hadn't meant to cause anyone harm. He hadn't started the fires on purpose. He just... didn't know what he was doing.
And "his people"—what did that mean?
Maybe some of the people in the triangle's dance party were from his dimension. The Axolotl couldn't totally confirm that they weren't; if the triangle had somehow survived, then why not others?
But it was undeniable that the triangle had been "rescuing"/kidnapping people from other dimensions, and he talked about the people he'd rescued no differently from the people from his own dimension.
Why? Had members of his species spread to neighboring dimensions? Or had his species come from another? Had his people established diplomatic relationships with cultures in neighboring universes, enough for them to consider themselves one people?
"Certainly not," said the Vitruvian Mandala.
He was a god from one of the worlds in Dimension 2 Gamma that the ATTF had managed to evacuate before the dimension was fully incinerated. Now, He was just another refugee, huddled with His confused, terrified people on one of the temporary worlds provided by VENDOR, curved uncomfortably atop the spherical planet. He had to be reeling from the loss of His home just as much as His people were—if not more, since He had known and seen and done and loved much more that any single mortal could. But nevertheless, He'd immediately stepped up to assist with organizing the rescue services, acting as a liaison between VENDOR and the 2D mortals to find new homes for them. 
And some of His people had been among the ones dragged into Dimension Zero—which was no doubt why the cloud had suggested the Axolotl speak to Him.
The Vitruvian Mandala may have been a minor creation god (He'd only created a galaxy) but He was more than powerful enough to know whether any of His people had ever made interdimensional contact. The Axolotl had waited until He had a moment to spare from assisting VENDOR, and then asked Him about their relationship with Dimension 2 Delta.
"I seeded life on all the populated worlds in My galaxy. None of My worlds have ever so much as been colonized by another galaxy in Our own dimension, much less people from another dimension," He said. "And We're a young galaxy—the most advanced starfarers have hardly ventured beyond their own solar systems; none have left Our dimension."
"And they've never spoken to other dimensions...?"
"No. The first contact We ever had with 'Dimension 2 Delta'—or what was left of it—was when the Magister Mentium began dragging My people into his underworld. The leaders I've had a chance to speak to from Dimension 2 Epsilon and Dimension 2 Zeta have told Me the same. " He called the triangle 'Magister Mentium' without any of the halting awkwardness the Axolotl did, or even the self-consciousness the triangle himself did. The Vitruvian Mandala had never known the triangle as anything but the Magister Mentium—and in His voice, it sounded not like an oversized title for a tiny triangle, but like the name of a fellow god.
But—the Axolotl had only asked the Vitruvian Mandala about Dimension 2 Delta. He hadn't brought up the Magister Mentium, nor mentioned that he was asking about the kidnapped people. "How did you know about the Magister Mentium?"
The Vitruvian Mandala said simply, "Because he introduced himself to My people before he started stealing them."
At the Axolotl's shocked silence, He said, "Do you want to see what they saw?"
####
When the agents with the ATTF had started interviewing survivors about the cosmic fire, naturally, they'd first approached the other gods for information. And then the gods had approached the mortals under their charge to get their testimonies and pass them on to the apoc agents.
The Vitruvian Mandala had telepathically extracted His people's memories and copied them into tiny glassy discs with brass rims. He sifted through dozens of discs before offering the memory of a narrow rhombus from one of His most technologically advance worlds; and the Axolotl stared through the disk to experience the mortal's memory.
The memory started with a sight that had become all too familiar to the Axolotl: a distant line of burning blue fire. It took a moment for the Axolotl to orient himself to the mortal's razor-thin two-dimensional view of her world; but once he did, he realized that, from her perspective, it wasn't a line of light. To her, it was the entire sky. The constellations of faraway flat stars had vanished, and their place was taken by an inferno.
The whole world reeked of a stench that the rhombus didn't recognize, but that the Axolotl did: burning hydrogen. In most dimensions, three-fourths of all the matter in the entire universe—including the very stars themselves—consisted of hydrogen molecules. Hydrogen burned a pale blue. The stench in the air, the pale blue light filling the sky, was the smell and sight of the raw materials of reality itself burning away.
The nearby buildings had emptied into the city streets as people abandoned their work to coming outside and stare at the burning sky. Somewhere—it seemed very far away—people were screaming, sirens were wailing, government proclamations were issuing out of radios and loudspeakers; but on these streets, on the border of the city where the sky was most visible, everyone was horribly silent. 
An eerie feeling of unreality hung over the world. It felt like a scene out of a dream. The rhombus's heart filled with dread. She didn't understand why or how the sky was burning, but she felt in her bones that it must mean the end of the world.
She never imagined that it was the end of the entire universe.
And then, more real than reality itself, bright enough to blind, a radioactive-yellow shape appeared in the middle of the crowd. Over the gasps of shock, a voice that echoed between the buildings proclaimed, "Gooood evening! Lines, bis, and tris; quads, quints, and more—my beloved believers and my new friends—I'm sure you all recognize my voice from the news, but it's a pleasure to finally meet you all in the flesh!"
She wasn't sure he had any flesh to meet. He was ghostlike, as insubstantial as smoke—and just as formless as smoke, too: his shape constantly shimmered and shifted and distorted, his skin appearing and disappearing as his internal organs were exposed; one moment a leg visible, the next a hand, then no limbs at all, just his blindingly bright body. His organs were all wrong. When she could stand to squint at the specter's light, in the split seconds that his ghostly form was properly visible, she thought he looked like a triangle.
(She'd never seen the third dimension, never even attempted to imagine what a 3D shape might look like. She didn't realize his appearance shifted because he was a 2D shape tilting in 3D directions trying to lay flat on the 2D plane of Dimension 2 Gamma, and not quite succeeding. )
"Allow me to introduce myself properly: I'm the Magister Mentium, seer of the third dimension! Your gateway to the stars and stardom, your guide to prophets and profits, your mastermind and master of minds; and, if you're lucky, your new eternal party host! I'm sure the honor's all yours—but please, resist the urge to swoon! I have a limited time offer that you cannot afford to miss."
For all his self-aggrandizing, the triangle was still completely unfamiliar. She didn't see recognition in the eyes of any of the shapes around them, either. She doubted he'd ever actually been on the news at all, unless it was in one of those dubious programs about ghost hunting or UFOs. 
But the triangle charged on regardless: "I'm here to bring you salvation from— Whoops! We've got a crying baby over here. Sorry junior, I'm on stage right now." She hadn't even noticed the crying until the triangle pointed it out; the whole world seemed dull and muffled and gray except for the triangle. One of his arms stretched in the child's direction and disappeared; there was a split-second flash of black fingers where the baby used to be; and then both hand and baby vanished, the baby's cries morphing into a shriek of terror that slowly faded into the unseeable distance.
"My baby!" a rectangle wailed. She rushed up to the alien triangle. "What did you do to my baby, you—" She tried to seize his arm, and let out a howl of pain as her hands burst into flame.
"Calm down, Mama, your little brat's okay!" He reached out and flicked the rectangle back. His finger hit her with the force of a catapult. She tumbled away from him through dimensions unknown, skins and bone and organs turning inside-out over each other; and slammed into a nearby building, fusing with the wall. All that was visible of her was a thin cross section of meat. The rhombus couldn't imagine where the rest of her had gone—but she could smell the burning flesh.
"Too bad I can't say the same of you." The triangle turned to stare them all down, gaze darting restlessly from face to face. His pupil was bizarrely long, animal-like; and his gaze burned. She was sure that, if his gaze had lingered on her a moment longer, she would have caught fire, too. "We're burning time, people! Would anyone else like to be excused? Last call!"
There were a few whispers, but no one moved. The crowd was petrified with fear.
"Terrrrific! Then you'd better listen close, because I only have time to say this once," the triangle said. "Here's the deal! There's only two kinds of people: the ones who hate captivity, and the ones who love it. Oh yeah, there are people who love it! Some of 'em like inflicting it, some of 'em are too stupid to think for themselves, and some of 'em just want to do terrible things and pretend they had no choice!
"But I'm here to help the rest of you—you know who you are! You're the ones who never quite tessellated with the other kids! The ones who are sick and tired of your family saying you had so much potential and asking where it's all gone! You can feel the barbs of social obligation hooking into your flesh—yeah, you there, you know what I'm talking about, I see you!—and you'd rip your own skin off if you thought it would set you free! It won't, by the way—take it from a guy who knows! Luckily for you, my way's more effective and less painful! Probably!"
In spite of their fear, more than a few shapes had started pushing closer to the triangle. He was speaking to them.
"So if you crave freedom—from work, laws, morality, physics... death..."
More than a few shapes glanced fearfully toward the sky.
"...if you want to see the stars with me—then raise your hand! Reach out to me! Watch your enemies burn and escape to a realm of dreams with no rules and no responsibilities! That's right, this way!"
As soon as he said raise your hand, it seemed like half the crowd stretched their hands out to him —and the longer he spoke, the more reached out.
She recognized some of the people reaching out—some of them were her neighbors and friends. Here was a beaten-down pentagon who'd spent his whole life being controlled, and just wanted freedom from the ruthless monsters who used and abused him. There was a controlling circle who'd spent her whole life using and abusing others, and wanted freedom to be an even more ruthless monster. They all reached toward the triangle just the same—as if they'd been waiting their whole lives for an opportunity to escape. The desperate, the downtrodden, the dastardly, the barely daring to hope. If the whole burning world felt like a bizarre dream, then this must have felt like a dream come true to them.
But to the rhombus, it felt like a nightmare. She had to fight through the crowd to back away from him. 
"No need to push! If you can't see me, just hold your hand toward my voice, I can see you!"
The smell of burning existence was growing stronger.
Was this a test? An approaching apocalypse and a shapeshifting god of light and fire offering a last-minute rapture. The sky was burning—what hope did they have if they didn't go with him? More of the crowd was reaching for him now—terrified of him, but more terrified of their fate if they didn't. The rhombus reluctantly stretched out a hand.
"Thaaat's right, this way! I've got all of you!" His voice was taking on an edge of impatience. "Just—come on already! Hurry up!"
She was at just the right angle to catch a split second glimpse of the triangle through the crowd. She saw as the person closest to him reached out and grasped his hand. She saw as the first of the triangle's new followers burst into flames. The unlucky soul crumbled to ash before they had a chance to scream.
"I said no pushing."
The rhombus jerked her hand back and hoped the triangle hadn't seen her through the crowd. He wasn't offering salvation.
Most of the crowd wasn't lucky enough to get a view of the unfortunate shapes at the front who were already learning what a deal with the triangle entailed. The rhombus could hear people, as though from a vast distance, calling out to the triangle: "Take me, take me!" "I'll do anything!" It seemed like the whole world was trying to get closer to him; she thought she was the only one trying to move away, until she made it as far back as she could, where the crowd was thinning out, and caught a few other shapes in her peripheral vision who'd moved the same way. More than half the crowd was rushing in toward the triangle.
But apparently, it wasn't enough to satisfy him. "Come on, people!" That enthusiastic voice, halfway between a salesman and a camp counselor, was gone now. His voice went shrill with anxiety. "What's it gonna take?! I'm offering you idiots paradise, why won't you listen? Why don't you ever LISTEN TO ME?!"
For a moment, even though the triangle was completely hidden by the crowd, the rhombus could feel his fiery gaze sweep over her. She felt the way her skin threatened to burst into flames, and she knew he saw her.
She backed away until her rear angle bumped into the nearest building.
"Fine! You've had your chance! I've found my people!" The triangle's voice dropped to an angry snarl. "For all I care, the rest of you can burn."
For every hand that stretched out to the triangle, a black hand reached back toward them—dozens and dozens of hands. "Let's blow up this popsicle stand!"
He seized his new believers' hands.
Most of them instantly burst into flames.
Most of the rest were either jerked away into some unseeable direction like the baby had been, or else the burning ghost hand they were shaking yanked something out of them, leaving behind a dry corpse.
Reality warped and distorted in ways her eye couldn't make sense of: buildings wobbling and spilling apart like they were made of liquid; people twisting together with the buildings in sickening multi-corpsed abominations.
"Whoopsie!" The triangle let out a shrill, tittering laugh. It sounded pained. "S-still gotta get the hang of that. Oh well!" He spoke louder and faster. "I saved as many of you as I could, doing the best I can here, the rest of you don't matter, anyway byyye!"
And then he was gone.
And then they were all awake. She hadn't known they were asleep. Whatever happened hadn't been a mere shared nightmare; it was as though the layer of existence that dreams happened on had been pressed into the layer of existence where reality happened, and she hadn't even noticed until the pressure applied by the triangle lifted and the layers popped apart again.
The layers had popped apart too hard. Several of the shapes nearest the triangle that he hadn't taken with him instantly died—the tether between their souls on the plane of dreams and their bodies on the plane of reality snapped like overstretched rubber bands.
The fused corpse abominations had been left behind, still tangled and mangled with the architecture. The buildings were charred. The survivors were covered in burns they hadn't noticed—everywhere the triangle had looked was burned. Anything the triangle looked through was burned.
She was covered in burns. She could feel the burning inside her body. She raised her hands to her face and felt it peeling off.
She couldn't even feel the bright blue fires roaring down from the heavens.
And then something else lifted her out of the world, just before the reality around them began to burn.
She didn't know where all the people the triangle had taken had gone. But as she blacked out, of one thing she was sure: this higher dimension he'd claimed to see, this realm of stars and dreams? They weren't there.
Wherever they were, they'd gone down.
####
When the Axolotl emerged from the recorded memory, he was dizzy with horror. He had to lay down on the prefab planet next to the Vitruvian Mandala while he reeled.
"Are you all right?" the Vitruvian Mandala asked.
Broken, the Axolotl said, "he threw a baby."
"I know."
"Is the baby alright?"
Delicately, He said, "It's beyond the dimensions I'm able to sense."
The Axolotl curled his gills. Not the baby. "What about the rhombus?"
"Her body was too burned; she died shortly after this memory," the Vitruvian Mandala said. "But fortunately, only a small part of her ghost suffered third degree burns. With an ectoplasm graft she's expected to recovery enough to have a fairly normal afterlife. Inasmuch as any afterlife can be considered 'normal' for My people now."
The Axolotl had noted how many ghosts were mingling with the living mortals when he arrived on this planet. He hadn't wanted to say anything; he didn't know whether that was normal for their people. "I can give you the contact rituals of some interdimensional psychopomps I respect. Very professional and compassionate gods." Although they'd be cursing the Axolotl's name for millennia for throwing so much work on their desks.
"I'd appreciate that. Thank you."
The Axolotl returned the memory disc to the Vitruvian Mandala; He momentarily stared into it Himself before returning it to His collection. "He gave speeches like this all across My populated worlds. I've retrieved thousands of memories like this from My people." His voice shook; the Axolotl couldn't tell if it was with anger or grief. "There would have been more—if more had survived."
"I'm so sorry." He didn't know what else he could do for the poor god but be sorry. All the senseless, slapdash slaughter. All of it so casual and accidental.
"Why?" the Vitruvian Mandala demanded. "He didn't speak like he meant My people harm, but he couldn't have done them more harm if he'd tried! I've never heard of him before—what is he, some malevolent trickster god? Why did he do it"
"Because... he thought he was saving them." That was the only thing the Axolotl could cling to.
####
(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 5 of a 7-or-8-or-9 part fic that keeps getting more parts, about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl run out of ways to pretend Bill didn't destroy his own dimension.
It's ALSO chapter 65 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.
If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: Bill got SO CLOSE to looking like a misguided good guy last chapter, and that's why he had to throw a baby.
No actually it was because it seemed really really funny. Flipped that flat little thing like a pancake.
Due to real-world reasons, this is another chapter that isn't as edited & polished as usual, so let me know if you noticed any rough spots that need buffing. And let me know what you think! Bill with his cult leader persona cranked up to 100% is probably the hardest Bill to write.)
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roosterforme · 4 months ago
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Aim for the Sky Part 20 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley's patience pays off in the form of finally getting to be intimate with his wife. Neither of you quite know how to handle Rose's first day of daycare, and a simple email reminds him of something long forgotten.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, smut, DILF Roo
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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When Bradley set the alarm on his phone for exactly six weeks after Rose was born, he meant it as a joke more than anything else. There wasn't a day where the two of you weren't both up between midnight and one in the morning, feeding and burping the baby so she could make it through the rest of the night. You were just pulling an old tee shirt over your lovely tits and getting back in bed when the alarm started blaring. 
"Wait, did we forget to do something?" you asked. "What's the alarm for?"
Bradley held his phone up for you to take a look. The alarm was titled My wife is exactly 6 weeks postpartum. You rolled onto your side, cackling with laughter. 
"It's not funny, Baby Girl. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time." He snuggled under the covers and said, "I'm ready to get my world rocked whenever you feel like rocking it, so you just let me know."
Bradley held out his arm so you could get cozy and curl up on his chest, and you were there in an instant. But your hand was resting lower on his abs than usual. His eyes were closed when he felt your lips ghost along his cheek on their way to kiss him. "Why not right now?"
Your words were accompanied by your hand sliding lower, and Bradley grunted your name. "Are you serious?" It was late, but he was already in the mood, cock getting hard as you nudged him with your knee. "Please be serious." 
He swore your voice was the hottest thing he'd ever heard as you whispered, "I'm serious," before slipping your hand inside his boxer briefs. He was bouncing against your palm, eager for your touch, and of course you didn't disappoint. Your fingers wrapped around his cock as you gasped. "You're really ready to go."
Six weeks didn't seem so bad in theory. He'd been separated from you for longer lengths of time for deployments in the past, but this had been so much worse. You were always right in front of him in various states of undress with milk dripping from your tits. How was he supposed to be normal now?
He was sweating as he whispered, "I'm always ready to go for you." You met his gaze, licked your lips and leaned down to suck on his cock, but he had to stop you. He wouldn't last ten seconds in this state. "No, no, no, please," he rasped, tugging on you gently until you were straddling his waist and your lips were hovering over his. "I really want to feel your pussy."
Your lips brushed against his as you said, "Whatever you want, Roo," while his cock hung out of his underwear and tapped against your core. You ducked your head and rubbed your wetness against his tip as you murmured, "I just hope this still feels good for you."
Before he could respond, you guided yourself down around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, colors dancing behind his eyelids. You bottomed out with your soft hands braced against his chest, and he had to hold you in place by your hips as he panted, "Holy shit." He opened his eyes to find you perched atop him with an apprehensive look on your face while his cock was buried deep in your pussy. "There's a strong possibility I'm going to finish in less than a minute. Just putting that out there right now."
You shrugged and asked, "But does it feel good?"
God, he wanted to reassure you that you were still the only thing he needed, but all he could do was guide you along slowly with his hands gripping your hips and moan, "Your pussy feels like heaven." Instantly, your mouth was on his neck, sucking a mark into his skin as you bounced up and down on his cock. "Oh, fuck!"
"I don't care how fast you cum," you whispered before licking his ear. "I just want it to be good for you."
The thing was, the worst day with you was still better than any day with anyone else, and sex was the same way. It was never not good. It was always what he wanted.
Just as he got one big hand on your ass and managed to roll you onto your back, he realized it was pretty much all over. He also reminded himself that a creampie was completely out of the question right now as he held your ankles up in the air and watched his cock slip in and out of your pussy while you giggled and moaned.
"Roo," you crooned softly, pulling that tee shirt up to reveal your enlarged tits, and Bradley had to yank himself free of your body with a snap of his hips. Barely in time, he jerked off onto your belly, and then you guided him closer by his shoulders and kissed him. "Wow. That was fast. You're never like this after a long deployment."
He knew he was blushing as he grunted, "I tried to warn you. Deployments are different somehow." 
You kissed him between his sentences and played with his hair. "How are they different?"
He ran his nose along your cheek and whispered, "It's like, I've got some residual anger in my veins when I return home after they kept me away from you for so long. But after Rosie was born, it was all pure happiness. Nothing was going to hold back that orgasm, no matter what I did. You've been here with me the whole time, tempting me with little snacks like blowjobs and riding my leg, but I couldn't have the whole fucking meal until now."
"You're ridiculous," you giggled as he moved lower down your body, smiling at his cum on your rooster tattoo.
"I actually thought that was a pretty good analogy," he whispered before kissing your clit, and your giggles immediately faded into a whimper. "Now let me have dessert."
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"Should we buy condoms?" you asked, making a shopping list on Sunday morning while Bradley flew Rose around the island like she was a fighter jet. You were heading back to work tomorrow, and Rose was starting daycare, and you wanted to have everything you'd need for the next week so you didn't have to keep running to the store.
Bradley paused and gave you a disgusted look. "Sweetheart. We don't use condoms. We used a condom exactly one time. The very first time we had sex. Since then, we haven't used condoms. Ever."
"It was just a suggestion," you said, holding up your hands in surrender.
"I don't want us to use condoms."
"I hear you, loud and clear," you told him, crossing that item off the shopping list immediately. "Then I guess I should fill my prescription for birth control."
Bradley lifted Rose a little higher and zoomed her around again before he said, "Only if you want to."
Now you were giving him a concerned look. "If you don't want to use condoms, then we need to do something."
He dipped Rose down almost to the floor before lifting her back up again and kissing her cheek. "We had sex about ten times in the past two days. I can just keep pulling out." Your silence eventually had him turning to look at you as he cradled the baby against his chest. "What?"
"That's just a ticking time bomb, Bradley. I'll pick up the pill tomorrow after work."
Then you spent the rest of the evening pumping and nursing Rose until it felt like your breasts were going to fall off. Bradley put her down in her crib while you packed two work lunches for the first time in what felt like ages. You got everything lined up on the counter for the morning, already a little antsy about running late for your first day back.
"You coming?"
Bradley was reaching for your hand as you plugged the iPad in on the counter so your parents could look at Rose essentially doing nothing and yet freak out about it over FaceTime for an hour tomorrow night.
"Yeah, I'm coming."
You thought he meant he was ready for bed, but he lured you into the bathroom where the tub was full and there were candles lit on the vanity.
"I thought we could take a bath together," he murmured, and you immediately started to undress. You hadn't taken a bath in months, and Bradley laughed as you practically dove into the water. He eased himself down into the tub with you, and you wrapped yourself around him. "So this was a good idea then?"
"The best idea," you sighed. "I missed this."
You could feel his lips on your forehead and hair as he stroked his rough fingers down your back beneath the water. "Are you excited to go back to work?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed. "Kind of missed Bickel and the lab, and I think I left a mess of folders on my desk that I forgot to clean up."
He was silent for a few seconds, the only sound was Tramp's claws tapping the tile as he walked around. "I'm a little nervous about Rose being in daycare."
"She'll be with Jeremiah," you reminded him. "I've heard so many good things about the daycare, Roo." You kissed along his Adam's apple and whispered, "But I love that you're nervous. You're such a good dad."
He groaned softly. "Just want my girls safe and happy."
"I just want my husband safe and happy."
Bradley tilted his head back and looked at you through narrowed eyes. He had his hands on your waist as he said, "I feel pretty safe right now. Happy, too. But you know what would make me even happier?"
Slowly, you eased your body away from his and straddled his hips beneath the water. "I think I do know," you whispered, reaching for his hands and guiding them up to your breasts. You were tired and sore, but his eyes positively lit up as he gave you a little squeeze.
A droplet of milk formed on your nipple as Bradley moaned, "You're too good to me." Then his lips met your nipple, swirling around as he sucked on you. 
Maybe he wasn't the only one with the lactation kink. You threaded your fingers in his hair, tugging softly and whispering, "You're such a good daddy," until you were aching with need as his mouth grew more demanding. You held out as long as you could while he drained you, but eventually you whimpered his name, and he met your gaze.
"Where are you going?" he asked as you started to stand, licking your lips.
All you told him was, "Get ready to pull out again," before the two of you ended up fucking on the bath mat on the floor.
---------------------------
"Jesus," Bradley groaned when he climbed out of bed the next morning. His knees and back felt like he got hit by a bus as he watched you prance across the room as Rose started crying down the hall. "Fuck."
You straightened your glasses and asked, "What's wrong with you?"
"I'm almost thirty-eight," he replied, voice raspy from sleep. "I'm definitely too old to be having sex on the bathroom floor."
"You didn't complain about it at all last night when it was happening."
He watched you walk out of the room as he stretched. "Well, you got me there," he muttered to himself. A minute later, he wandered into the nursery where you were already feeding Rose, and he gave you both a kiss before going to the kitchen to start the coffee. He made you some avocado toast and inhaled a bowl of cereal, and then he burped the baby and got her dressed so you could eat.
"You're just so fucking cute," he whispered, kissing her bare belly as she cooed. "My god, you're adorable. You better behave for your first day of daycare. No flirting with all the little boys."
Then it really hit him that his daughter would be in daycare all day instead of with you. Once she was dressed, he picked her up and snuggled her against his chest as tears burned his eyes. Maybe it would be better if he called in sick today instead of having her start daycare the same day you went back to your lab. He felt strangely guilty about someone else playing with her all day.
"Bradley? You're not dressed yet."
You were standing in the doorway when he turned, and he was actually relieved to see you weren't wearing the maternity tent. "You look hot," he whispered, eyeing up your snug pants as you tucked your shirt in.
You groaned. "I need to lose like fifteen pounds. It looks lumpy." He wanted to argue with you, but you immediately said, "Get dressed so we aren't late."
Rose was just snuggling up for her post breakfast nap as he said, "I'm thinking about staying home today."
"No," you said, voice firm. "I knew you were going to do this, and I love you very much for it, but we need to get into our new work routine, and that includes daycare for Rose."
Bradley pouted as you pried the baby out of his hands and pushed him with your knee until he left the room. He got dressed and carried all of Rose's gear out to the red Bronco while you buckled her in. Then he buckled you in as well, and the three of you were on your way to base.
"I hate this," he muttered. "I should probably just retire."
"You can't," you told him calmly as he approached the guard gates. "You need another four years and two months to get your pension."
But you were all talk, because when the time came to actually leave Rose, you had tears in your eyes and one tracking along your cheek as you kissed her. Bradley wrapped both of you in a hug as you whispered, "Okay. I think you should retire, Roo."
He sighed and rubbed soft circles against your back as you finally let one of the daycare instructors take Rose, and then he silently walked you to your office door where you hugged him until he would almost certainly be late getting to the tower.
------------------------------
"You're back," Cat said, voice laced with relief as you walked into the lab with your computer. 
"I'm back," you sighed. "Rose is in daycare."
To your extreme embarrassment, you started sobbing with your laptop slipping from your fingers. Cat took it and set it down on the counter and collected you in a hug, and you let yourself cry on her shoulder.
"I don't even know why I'm sad," you gasped. "I was looking forward to coming back to work."
"Mom hormones are stupid," Cat whispered. "And unpredictable. Just go with it."
So you did. You let yourself feel guilty and angry and confused until your tears tapered off. At least Bradley was feeling similarly today, and you knew it. Eventually you wiped at your cheeks on your own, but your breasts were already hurting again which made you realize Rose would need a bottle soon. You were sad you weren't the one who would be feeding her. You were going to have to pump in your office alone, and that made you even sadder.
"If there's an issue, someone from the daycare will call you," Cat said smoothly. "And you can always stop by at lunchtime to check on her."
You nodded and finally turned your computer on. "I know. It's just weird to be here when she's not."
"Try to enjoy the baby phase. Pretty soon you'll be looking for a reliable babysitter for nights and weekends just like I am," Cat murmured, sitting down next to you at her computer.
"Nope. I'm never going out again," you said, making her laugh. "What do you need a sitter for?"
She was silent for a few seconds, and you knew her well enough now to know you shouldn't press. You waited her out while you wiped your final stray tears away and entered your credentials into your computer. "I need someone to watch Jer for my promotion ceremony."
You gasped. "Lieutenant Commander?"
"Yeah. This Saturday."
"Why didn't you text me? We can watch him!"
"Well... I need a sitter for some additional evenings, too." Her dark eyes were more vulnerable than usual. "Jer and I are moving in with Jake. And I need time to pack our things. I just decided yesterday."
You had to stifle a scream as you gaped at her, wide eyed. This is exactly what Jake wanted, but you'd been afraid he'd never get it. He wanted the marriage, the step-dad duties, all of it, and this seemed like a step in that direction. But Cat was so stubborn, you forced yourself to remain calm right now. 
"Well, Lieutenant Commander Coleman, Bradley and I are available if you'd like to drop Jeremiah off at our house on Saturday."
"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered, typing away on her computer with a smile on her face.
By lunchtime, you were so antsy to see what Rose was up to, you were practically running toward the daycare building with your sandwich in your hands. If you ate while you checked on her, you'd be able to make it back in time for your group meeting. But someone else was rushing for the double doors at the same time, and you bumped into a firm body.
"I'm so sorry," you said, looking up at him before bursting into laughter when you recognized your own husband.
"You couldn't wait until the end of the day either?" he asked, ushering you inside, slightly out of breath.
"No," you confirmed, "I couldn't. Like I can't stop wondering what she's doing? And did she finish her bottles? Is she still hungry? Did she nap?"
Bradley groaned before kissing you hard on the lips. "That's exactly how I've been feeling all day."
When one of the daycare teachers opened the door and asked if she could help you with something, both of you blurted out at the same time, "We want to see our daughter."
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Bradley thought you both did pretty well today. You and he made it almost four hours before having to run over to check on Rose, and now he was taking the fastest shower he could in the locker room so he could go back and pick her up for the evening.
"There's my Nugget," he said with a sigh as soon as he picked her up from the play mat where she was having tummy time. He swore she smiled as soon as he kissed her soft cheek, and he snuggled her against his chest.
"Do you want to put her in the stroller?" the woman who ran the program asked him, but he shook his head.
"I like holding her," he whispered, giving Rose one more kiss before picking up the diaper bag and stroller in his free hand. You told him you'd meet him at the Bronco, so he very carefully made his way there with his daughter cradled in one arm. The parking garage was clearing out, and he set everything on the asphalt so he could unlock the doors.
He looked up when he heard your voice, only to find you running down the aisle toward Jake's car where the other man was also unlocking his doors. You threw your arms around him, and Jake caught you in his embrace. Bradley was not even slightly concerned at the high pitched screech you let out as he buckled Rose carefully into her car seat, wrapping his fingers around her tiny hand and giving her a little kiss.
Then he tossed everything else into the back and waited for you while he checked the messages on his phone. Most of the emails were just junk, but he did see an ad for Mother's Day.
"Oh. Shit." He hadn't celebrated that holiday since he was in high school. Other than signing whichever card you picked out for your own mom before you mailed it, he hadn't given the holiday any thought at all. And that was sad, because it was an important one. "Rosie, we need to do something special for Mommy," he muttered. "We can talk about it later, okay? Shh, here she comes."
"Roo!" you gasped, running for his arms the way you had Jake's, but unlike Jake, he got a kiss. "Guess what Cat told me today."
He leaned down for another kiss, making you smile before he said, "She and Jeremiah came to their senses, and they're leaving Jake?"
"No! They're moving in with him!"
"That poor woman," Bradley muttered, wrapping his arms around you just as Jake drove past, flipping him off before waving. "She could do so much better."
"Be nice, Bradley."
But he wasn't really listening any longer as you ran your hand down along his abs and patted the top of his gym shorts. Then suddenly your hand was gone as you climbed in the backseat with Rose and said, "I think I'll ride back here with her."
He took the seat belt from your hand and frowned. "Who's going to keep me company then?" But you ignored him in favor of the baby, and he couldn't blame you one bit.
"I missed you today," you told her, tickling her cheek as you leaned in to kiss her forehead, and Bradley buckled your seatbelt. When he started driving, you said, "Don't forget to stop at the pharmacy so I can pick up my birth control."
"Absolutely," he replied, relieved you seemed to have dropped the condom conversation. "And when we get home, we can test it out before I make dinner."
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He gets a max score for being eager, but he loses points for thinking he could handle the bathroom floor. I need him to make Mother's Day so special in the next chapter. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 21
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jaysswlvrr · 4 months ago
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Never Have I Ever | Jake Sim (pt2)
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౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪"you sure you a virgin, baby?"
synopsis: You play a game called 'Never Have I Ever' a popular TV show with a cute boy named Jake in hopes of finding your true love. During the game, he figures out some cute things about you.
You're a... virgin? read pt1 here
I mean you could read it without part one but to make it make more sense read pt1 and the WARNINGS about some things people may not like
warnings: UNprotected sex,(may, or may not have forgotten hehe), kissing, biting, make-outs, Jake and y/n are famous but not k-pop way (like tiktokers or smth), you really trust each other, pet names ?, little degrading, and size kink scattered everywhere if u squint <3, oral receiving(f), mature topic and jokes, y/n is a virgin but she like INexperienced, you get me? pussy eating😝 it was a lot of sex, like 90%
Taglist: @ikkeu, @astraea-7, @sugarsspread, @missoxy, @malia-blue
@taehyunswife156 @aveleyshin, @ynzyy, @sunsunl0ver, @kaykay11sworld,
@enhypen-smut, @jenmisblog, @flowerlvrs-blog, @simpforgenshinmen, @mywonandonly0209,
@enha-bie, @seochannnn, @illbeit, @slvtforheeseung, @looklikekittycat,
@okjaeminn, @raelyaa, @shuichi-sama, @artemesiareads, @seoknyang,
@jinostooth, @kookify, @cinnamon-won @jakesprincess1
You step out of the cab, pulling out a small mirror to ensure you look perfect. Finally, you walk up to the pretty, expensive café slightly uphill. It was surrounded by towering trees. Your legs were in pain after the squishy cab ride, but the view diverted your attention.
Before you could even walk halfway up, you saw Jake running to you, his cute puppy smile beaming as he grabbed your handbag and picked you up in bridal style up the hill. You laughed teasingly, smacking his chest so he could put you down, but his grip only tightened.
He finally put you down moving the strand of hair he messed up, smiling at how cute you looked. He gave you back your handbag, "How was your ride princess?" you looked up at him, flustered at the nickname as you guys walked towards the door, your gaze never leaving his veiny hands as he pushed the door open.
"It was alright", saying it rather quicker than you intended to so he wouldn't notice your huge pause. But of course, he did, noticing how your eyes tracked his hands in such a way he thought you were drooling.
"I hate cab rides. Sometimes, I just wish I had a driver's license so I could drive myself," he says, pushing out a seat so you can sit down.
He sits on the opposite chair, smiling at your sad pout "You don't need a license to ride me" he shrugs, pretending like he didn't just make your insides erupt by his cheesy lines, just as playful as the first time you met him.
You cover your face as your feet kick under the table, not noticing Jake's eyes on you. Different questions ran through his head: 'How could he meet a girl as cute as you?' Was he dreaming?' But he quickly snapped out of his thoughts as you started to speak again.
"You know, I've always wondered what it felt like to ride someone," you mutter awkwardly, but Jake only adores you more. Mission today: make y/n ride his dick until she sees stars. And boy did he do just that.
You found the date so cute, and even though this was the second time you have met the boy, you feel like you have done this before. And before you could reach the parking lot, you both stopped at the lingering trees. His lips met yours for a peck, before turning into you two devouring each other, his hand sliding into your hair to pull your forehead against yours. You could barely move, your ankles getting sore as you were standing on your tippies (hehe). You pull away, whining and looking around to see if anyone saw you two.
"Jake!" he hums, giggling as your face turns red in embarrassment. "Someone could've seen us!" He smiles, walking closer to you as he places a hand on your soft cheek, swatching his saliva off with his thumb. "Seems like someone liked it".
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
When you reached his car, it was like he was teasing you, his veiny hands again drawing your attention. During the massive traffic jam, his hand landed on your thigh, and you couldn't hold back. "Jake, please," he looked at your face. Your doe eyes glisten as you speak. "Please, what, darling? "
Your hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer and backing away slightly amazed by how good he looked close up and forgetting to kiss him. He grabs your neck "Don't do that to me baby" he whispers, your heartbeat stutters after the nickname. He pulls you in for another heated kiss, his brows furrowing passionately.
His hand snaked around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him as goosebumps prickled down your spine. He bit your bottom lip, a moan leaving your mouth as your lips parted for his tongue to enter. He went straight for yours, sucking and licking over the pink muscle.
"You're so desperate," he whispers, pulling away slowly as he watches your chest rise and fall back as your eyes are still closed. You don't open your eyes to the end of the ride; too horny you could suck his fingers (😵).
"C'mon baby", he says after opening your car door. After realising that your legs are too shaky to move, and watching your attempt to get up, he picks you up like before, resting your hand on his chest. His down-view looked just as amazing as all his angles and you couldn't keep your eyes off his angelic face.
He opens the door skilfully with one hand, quickly kicking off his shoes and somehow taking off yours. He runs up the stairs and places you on his bed and glares at the needy pout you have stuck on your face, just in the perfect position to eat your cunt.
"Fuck I need to eat you out", he huffs out, a few hairs falling to cover his eyes as he falls to his knees, slowly pulling down your skirt to see you weren't wearing shorts under. " You'll let me do that, right". You nod your head, and he curses to himself, doesn't even bother to pull down your panties, placing two fingers flat on your core.
You immediately retaliate, your legs snapping shut, a small scream leaving your mouth. A smug grin holds his face at your reaction, easily making you moan with your underwear still on. He pulls down your lace underwear, not so sneakily stuffing them into his rough, light-washed jeans pocket.
And before you know it he's flipped you over on your stomach. 'He eats ass?' you thought but before you could speak, he went for a hard smack on your flesh, making your body jolt. He easily spreads your cheeks, licking a long stripe between them. His tongue starts licking your pussy making you let out an electrifying moan. Tongue sucking on your clit as pleasure dashed throughout your whole body as you slightly arch your back.
"Slow- down Jakey " you yell but he only moans at the nickname you give him, vibrating on your clit, only making you closer to your release. His tongue enters your hole and he's licking and sucking at it like it's an ice lolly. (teehee) And oh if you knew pussy eating could be this good, you would've gotten laid long ago. Your moans only push him to go further as he buries himself deeper into your cunt, his nose tickling your clit.
And did he expect you to taste this good? Well, no. You tasted so sweet that his eyes lit up as he had his first lick. And minutes go by but he hasn't broken away from your heat, ass probably red from his rough hands holding them apart, slurping noises now like a background to all your moans and cries and before you can speak, he drags two of his long, slender fingers into you.
Catching you by surprise as you let out a cry of pleasure. "Jake t-too much!" But he knew it wasn't too much by the way you only pushed yourself onto him more, the pleasure overwhelming. And he only pushed further into your heat, not planning on stopping until you squirted all over his face
You started to ride his face, pushing him back and rolling your hips into him. And oh lord did Jake watch you like a man starved, most likely the hottest thing he had ever seen, watching your sweaty back like a thin layer of ice.
He let you push yourself onto him more, watching you chase your own high through a peek of his eye. Your legs trembled as you wrapped your thighs around his face as you hit your orgasm. "Oh fuck Jake!"
You cried slowly trying your best to turn on your side so you could see his face. And oh my his face was glistening with your juices, lips swollen from all the sucking and hair stuck to his forehead, he only smiled at you, not worrying about his raging boner, but to please you. You smile back at him as you come closer to where he is, trying your best to steady your heartbeat as he wipes off both his and your sweat.
"Fuck, I never knew you tasted this good" He stands up and you get up after him, shrugging your shoulders playfully, coming closer to unbuckle his belt "Well, you know now". You slightly place your hand over his crotch, feeling how hard he was, his jeans already below his ankles. You gently push him onto the bed, intensively watching him shuffle until his back hits the headboard.
He starts to pull down his boxers and you watch in awe as he pulls out his dick, slowly stroking himself. He's surprisingly huge, so much veinier, pinker, and thicker than you expected. "Done staring darling?" He questions teasingly as he holds back his smirk, pulling out a hand so you can finally straddle his lap.
"Are you ready, baby? " he asks with a tint of worry in his voice. You quietly nod, grabbing onto his neck for extra support as he grabs onto our waist, pushing yourself onto his lips.
He slowly raises your hips, not pulling out of the kiss as he starts lining yourself up with him. He pushes you down hard, slamming you down to meet his hips as you let out a synchronized pornographic moan.
"You and your pretty voice", he laughs as your lips are even more swollen than before, still squeezing your eyes shut as he starts to raise your hips back onto him.
He starts off slow, making sure that you are okay with his size "Does this feel good darling?", he questioned teasingly as he could see you lost in your own world. Your breathing staggers "Feels good Jake" you manage to let out with a moan.
You squeeze his shoulders as well as your eyes, barely being able to move at how filling up he felt. "Ur so.. big Jakey!" he hummed with a smirk on his face. "Mhm, I know darling" You slightly huff, ignoring his teasing as you try to match his pace.
You raise your hips only to push them back down, feeling him almost in your cervix. You try your best to keep up with him but your legs betray you, trembling as you try your best. And Jake obviously notices, laughing at your face as you're cursing to yourself, begging he doesn't notice. "What's wrong sweetheart?" He calls out. You shake your head, pushing yourself to keep going as you don't want to disappoint him.
But Jake has already seen enough of you to know that your legs couldn't keep going for longer so he pushed your hips further down. He starts quickening his pace, bouncing you up as he thrusts upwards. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, toes curling as he hits so deep into you.
He lets go of your waist but doesn't stop his hips as he lifts up your shirt which is now flooded with sweat. His fingers wrap around your nipple, his skilful tongue licking at your cleavage. You moan once again, scratching his toned back as the pleasure reaches unbearable.
He twists as your buds, watching your face as you let out silent moans. "Do you like this baby?" He asks, not expecting an answer from your current state. He grabs your neck gently, closing the gap between you two as he kisses you again.
Both your and his lips as swollen, red blotches as his tongue licks over yours. You're on cloud nine as he starts sucking your tongue, still able to taste yourself from earlier. Your hands press down onto his shoulders, a sign of your loss of oxygen. He pulls off you, watching you catching your breath.
And he can tell you are close and he won't let you cum without holding eye contact. "Are you close?" You nod your head aggressively, letting out another one of your moans, his neighbours probably catching up to the both of you. "Mhm!- so close!"
He was close too, wanting to see your face as you cum. "Y/n." He calls out, hearing your hum in response. "Look at me." Your cheeks run a shade of dark red, eyes squeezing shut at embarrassment. You shake your head and hear Jake's chuckle at how someone can still look so cute in this situation.
His eyes have never left yours the whole time, his only priority is to make you feel good and to make you cum. You moved yourself away from him, balancing both your hands behind yourself, riding him faster than you though you could. He moaned at the new feeling, surprised at how you looked straight out of porn.
"You sure you a virgin, baby?" He chuckled as he saw ur slight smile. You pushed your lips into him one last time, dirtily licking his tongue in a way that made him moan. He grabs your waist, pressing down the massive bulge in your small stomach, the contrasting pleasure making you come undone, your sticky release dripping down your thighs and sticking onto his.
Jake pushes you one last time before he cums himself. You open your eyes to look at him, his puppy eyes glaring into yours, his once curly hair now stuck straight to his forehead, his cheeks a shade of pink, and his lips blood-red.
"Are you okay, darling?" He tries his best to comfort you instead of worrying about himself, which warms your heart. You nod, stroking his hair away from his face to peck his lips. "That was the best thing ever." You smiled reassuringly.
Now you weren't a virgin anymore, but you still were one to Jake; the first time he laid his eyes on you, he never wanted to have you more than anything in his life, and now he has you wrapped around his finger as well as you have him. There would be so much more to explore in your new blossoming sex-life.
All from a game of Never Have I Ever.
tysm for reading pooks; please ignore any mistakes, as I felt bad. I haven't posted in a while, so this was a bit rushed. REBLOGS and likes are highly appreciated but please do NOT repost or translate
the end.
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vivwritesfics · 8 months ago
Note
hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?
a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah
love youuuuuu
I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon
Verstappen reader
Warnings: light smut, fingering
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When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.
It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.
She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.
So, he flew her out to Qatar.
For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.
But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.
Neither could Lando, either.
He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.
"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.
Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.
""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.
The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.
Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.
"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.
She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.
Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?
That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.
"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.
Fuck, he needed her now.
Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.
It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.
The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.
But he was the one who didn't want her.
As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."
She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"
He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.
She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."
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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago
Text
The Arrangement (5) - Confrontation
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Summary: Living under the same roof as Astarion was proving to me more of a challenge than you had anticipated.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: Nightmare. Hurt/Comfort. Innuendo. Heavy use of sarcasm hahaha.
Word count: 4.4k
Previous chapter. Ao3. Series Masterlist
If anyone had suggested a few days ago that you'd find yourself living under the same roof as Astarion, you would have called them delusional and point them to the nearest infirmary for a mental check.
But the wheels of fate turned in mysterious ways, and a mere glance at the man sitting across from you was proof enough of that.
The flames swirling and crisping in the nearby fireplace cast the most delicate yellow and orange tint on his pale complexion as he flipped the pages of a book you had lent him.
You had tried to focus on your own reading, but you just couldn't help but to occasionally shift your gaze to him.
Gods… it was nigh criminal how handsome this man was.
It was as if he had been hand-carved by someone intended on wreaking havoc in the name of beauty.
And, as far as you were concerned, they had thoroughly succeeded.
Suddenly, he lifted his head and he met your gaze dead-on, unblinkingly.
So handsome…
A cold shiver ran up the back of your neck, but you found herself unable to look away. It was as if, in that moment, you had managed to block out everything around you but him. The longer you stared at him, the more acutely you felt detached from reality.
“May I kiss you?”
You blinked a few times. “What?”
His eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised in sheer perplexity.
“No need to look so offended, darling,” he said with a scoff, rising from his seat and snatching the candle holder from the table to your right. “I was merely asking for this. I apologise if the request is out of the realm of your ‘one hundred good deeds I must perform before I perish’ list.”
You blinked again.
What?
You glanced around, but judging from the lack of reaction from both Gale and Shadowheart, you figured that maybe he hadn't actually asked to kiss you.
Great. Now I'm hallucinating…
He returned to his padded chair with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I've seen more light in the deepest corners of the Shadowlands.”
Maybe sleep deprivation was finally taking its toll on you, rendering you delirious.
Regardless, the illusion had been enough to flare your heart, and you hurriedly focused your attention on the book in your hands.
“I had quite forgotten how peacefully silent it can be without having you around, Astarion.” Shadowheart spoke as she tended to a few rolls of parchment and letters.
“Well, you can thank Wyll for that.”
She ignored him. “All you do is complain.”
You felt a storm brewing on the horizon as you lifted your eyes to glance at him.
Astarion let out a cynical laugh. “You're one to speak.”
Shadowheart was now scowling. Deeply.
“Besides, that is a rather disingenuous accusation. Want proof?” he asked, clearing his throat. “So, Gale - what are you reading that has you scribbling about like a mad man?”
The wizard snapped out of his nose-deep dive and brought his quill to a halt with a beaming smile. “Glad you ask, my friend. ‘A Visual Guide to Baldur's Gate's Exquisite Cuisine’. First edition. Hand-signed by the finest chefs in the city. What a marvel, indeed.”
As expected, Astarion looked as unimpressed as ever, but you interjected before he could mouth anything obtuse.
“That sounds rather exciting, Gale.”
He nodded eagerly. “A small guilty pleasure of mine, I must say. I'm taking down some notes, so that I can - hopefully - prepare some delectable dishes for us.”
Shadowheart's eyes remained fixed on Astarion as if awaiting for him to burst at any moment.
He exchanged a quick glance with you before muttering, “Unbelievable.”
“I think it's to be commended that he cares enough to try,” you said sweetly, earning a scornful glare from him. “I can't wait for you to showcase your abilities, Gale.”
“My sentiments exactly, dear friend.”
Astarion chuckled darkly. “‘Abilities’ as in setting the kitchen ablaze, or…”
You shot him a death glare.
He shrugged. “You two are a match made in the hells.”
This had you snap your book closed with a loud thud, eyeing him defiantly. “So what constitutes an engaging reading to you, Astarion? Murderous ploys?”
His lips curled into a devious smile. “Something along those lines. Although I do enjoy indulging in some debauchery from time to time.”
You weren't sure Gale would set the kitchen ablaze with his cooking skills, but Astarion's blunt and crass words sure did that to your cheeks.
Shadowheart scoffed.
“There are some interesting books in my collection,” he continued, clearly enjoying your loss of composure. “I will gladly lend you some… or maybe offer a guided tour through my favourite pieces?”
You needed to change the subject.
Fast.
You were most definitely fighting a losing battle.
This was Astarion's playground, and he would always come out victorious.
“Must you always resort to such vulgarity?” Shadowheart sneered, shaking her head in disapproval.
“I'm afraid the city is fresh out of those who know how to properly enjoy themselves, and we can't all be dullards, darling.”
You cleared your throat. “So, Gale… you're leaving for Waterdeep soon enough.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Yes. If all goes well, we shall have access to the Wish spell soon enough, my vampling friend.”
Astarion crossed his arms. “Finally some progress.”
“Maybe you should be more thankful.” You said with a frown.
“As should you,” he shot back. “No more need to offer your blood to me.”
Fair enough.
“Much to your disappointment, I imagine.” Shadowheart chimed in.
But before he could retort, you heard a rising commotion outside that only came to a halt as the front door burst open.
Lae'zel came through, carrying what appeared to be a very much deceased wild boar across her shoulders as if it was nothing more than a sack of feathers.
She kicked the door shut at once, nostrils flaring. “Tsk'va! What are those two doing outside?”
“House arrest.” Astarion informed.
Bringing the carcass to the kitchen table, Lae'zel locked eyes with you, visibly annoyed.
“I had plans to rescue you from that prison. And I would have had it my way had it not been for Gale and his… morals.”
Gale bolted from his seat, suddenly looking rather distressed. “Lae'zel, we've spoken about this before and agreed not to bring bleeding carcasses into our home.”
She glared at him. “You alone agreed to it - I had no part in it.”
He gave her an exasperated look, picking up a piece of cloth to wipe away the strands of blood that had begun to run along the wooden surface.
“If this falls on the carpet, it will be a nightmare to remove the stains.”
Astarion tutted. “Darling, that carpet is so hideous that being splattered with carrion blood would be a vast improvement.”
You rose to your feet, rushing to join Lae's zel, who quickly placed her hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.
Your lips tugged into a genuine smile.
To her, this was the equivalent of ‘I am glad you're safe and I care for you’ and it warmed your heart beyond measure.
Naturally, Astarion quickly joined your side, earning Lae'zel's disdainful gaze.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, it was a two-for-one type of deal, wasn't it?” Astarion mocked, turning to you. “Free one criminal and get two on house arrest.”
Unfortunately for Astarion, Lae'zel had little patience to entertain his sarcastic remarks and merely scoffed.
“I would have easily rescued from that prison, you know?” She gave your shoulder another squeeze and you nodded. “Those frail guards are no match for a githyanki.”
“On that much we can agree.” He mused.
She gave him a stern look. “I would have left you there.”
“We fought a giant brain, a scheming squid, and a whole parade of lunatics side by side, in case you've forgotten, my dear nest of vipers friend,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe you ought to show more gratitude.”
You expected her to snap at him, but she merely pressed her lips and gave him a nod.
That would be as far as she'd go, though.
“Well, as much as I enjoy this ‘family’ reunion, I'm off to my room,” Shadowheart said from a distance, already heading towards the staircase. “Please do not maim each other in my absence - there's only so much healing I can provide.”
You chuckled and she smiled warmly at you.
“Say, Lae'zel…” Astarion started, circling the boar with utmost interest. “I would hate for perfectly adequate blood to go to waste.”
The implication in his words wasn't subtle at all, and she groaned. “I thought you feeding on our friend was enough.”
Your stomach lurched violently.
He scoffed. “There is no such thing as ‘enough’ blood for a vampire. Besides, she's the main course… this would be more of an aperitif, if you will.”
Now, you felt positively sick to your core.
A wave of nausea and repulsion gripped you tight.
“It would be a mutually beneficial situation - I save Gale from a mental breakdown, sparing you tue ordeal, and I also get to quench my hunger.”
Gale grumbled something in agreement.
But you felt the sudden wish to be swallowed whole by some magical hole in the ground.
The way he referred to you as nothing more than food prompted a visceral reaction from you, and you feared you might empty the contents of your stomach from it alone.
“Um… I'll go get some sleep… I'm too tired,” you said dismissively, already pacing towards the corridor that led to your room. “Have a good night.”
Astarion called after you, but you didn't bother looking back.
But before you could turn the doorknob, you heard light steps approaching and firm fingers gripping your forearm.
Astarion.
His face was void of any amusement. “You're upset.”
You pulled free from his grasp. “A neat observation. No wonder you're such a skilled rogue.”
His brows furrowed lightly. “What's the matter?”
“It seems that I'm only worthy of your attention when it comes to you treating me as nothing but a meal, to hurl your sarcastic remarks at. Oh - and unless I'm on the verge of death,” you said, counting on each finger.
He seemed quite taken aback, his features twisting into a scowl. “You really adore selling yourself short, don't you?”
“You won't even deny it.”
“Then what sort of attention do you want from me?” He asked, taking a step closer, the sudden proximity catching you off-guard. “Do enlighten me.”
You glared at him in silence for a moment, vaguely wondering how the two of you had gotten to this point in your relationship, where everything seemed so… off.
Astarion was standing in front of you, but it wasn't truly him.
He was there, but not really.
He seemed so detached from the Astarion you had fallen for, and a part of you loathed that you had allowed yourself to get so attached to him in the first place.
Eventually, you heaved a deep sigh as he awaited your reply. “The sort of attention I don't have to beg for.”
His face softened briefly and he parted his lips only to press them close together again as if he had decided against speaking.
Right.
You swallowed hard. “Have a good night.”
The hopeful part of you half-expected him to stop you from walking away as you closed the door behind you, but he did no such thing.
You pressed your back against it, taking a deep breath, feeling as if you had just lost something.
Had you been too dramatic?
Did it even matter at this point?
Maybe it was better off this way.
You moved to scrub your face clean in the washbasin, preparing yourself to get some rest before the morning came.
Whatever was of your relationship with Astarion would have to wait for you to be able to think more clearer.
Slipping into your nightdress, you allowed yourself to fall on your bed and onto your stomach with a muffled thud, wanting to do nothing more than to scream into the covers, but remained still instead.
After what felt like hours of restlessly rolling beneath the sheets, you felt your mind lighten and were able to find solace in the peace and quiet.
That was until you heard a distant voice.
A woman's voice.
Her voice.
“Go on. Bleed her dry for me…”
You felt the mattress dip slightly and your eyes snapped open only to find Astarion baring his fangs.
And then he was on you, pinning you frozen with both hands.
“No - stop! Get off!”
He didn't hold back and you felt a familiar sting tear through your neck, his cold lips sprawling across your skin.
“She's so pathetic. Just kill her. Put her out of her misery.”
“Get off!” You cried out, feeling his weight pinning you down.
He didn't waver and you felt your blood being drained from you alarmingly fast as you tried your best to yank free from his vicious grip.
You were going to die.
He was going to kill you.
“Stop! Please - Astarion!”
Something was squeezing your shoulder and you tried to squirm away from the increasing pressure.
You felt him chuckle in amusement against your skin and that was what killed you first.
“ASTARION!”
The grip on you kept on increasing and you realised someone was shaking you.
“Wake up.”
How was he speaking whilst fiercely feeding on you?
Were you already dead?
Your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs and you felt like breathing was no longer an option.
“Wake up!”
The shove against your shoulder was too fierce this time, and you jolted violently, feeling the pressure on top of you only faintly ease.
“Get the fuck off me!”
You tried to conjure a spell - any spell - that might help you set yourself free.
He called out your name and your eyes snapped open at once, only to see Astarion hovering over you, hand now pressed firmly against your lips, muffling your sobs.
Bergamot.
Rosemary.
Aged brandy.
It was him.
He was there.
The nightmare faded with each passing second, and, for the longest time, all you could hear were your laboured breaths as you struggled to step into reality.
Your eyes were blurred from the tears welling up, and you watched his lips part to utter something, but the pounding in your ears prevented you from understanding a single word.
He eventually dropped the hand from your mouth, staring at you with an understanding look on his face.
“You're safe."
For a split second, you wondered if this was truly your Astarion, and once you asserted that it was truly him sitting beside you, you pushed yourself from the mattress, looping your arms around his neck.
He took you in his arms, gently pressing his lips to your temple.
“You're safe. I'm here and I've got you."
You couldn't stop the tears from streaming down as you pressed your face to his shoulder, seeking any sliver of comfort he could spare you.
The door to your room burst open.
“What happened? What did you do?”
Shadowheart's accusatory tone ground on your already fragile nerves.
“She was having a nightmare.”
His cool hand came to the back of your head, further pressing you into him.
“Oh. Another one…”
You felt your heartbeat soothe and your breathing gradually even out.
But his embrace felt too much like coming home for you to part from him, so you didn't, allowing him to rock you gently in his arms.
“It's become more frequent as of late.” She said with a hint of sadness to her voice.
Astarion kept his lips pressed to your temple, grounding you.
You eventually pulled back from him with a loud sniffle. “I'm fine. I am sorry I worried you…”
Shadowheart approached you, kindness on her face. “Nonsense. I am here for you - we are here for you,” she added, glancing at Astarion. “Always.”
“I'll just try to get some rest… you two may go…” you stammered in between a few sobs.
Shadowheart didn't move and neither did Astarion.
You rubbed your puffy and wet eyes. “I mean it. It will be fine.”
“Very well,” Shadowheart drawled out reluctantly. “But please let me know if there is anything I can help with.”
You gave her a reassuring nod paired with a comforting smile.
She returned the gesture and excused herself, clicking the door shut behind her.
Your gaze shifted to him. “You can leave, too.”?
He scoffed. “No.”
“What?”
“You'll have to stake me.”
You were utterly confused by his perseverance.
“I am fine, Astarion. I am thankful for your help, but… you don't have to stay.”
He nodded. “I don't have to, but I want to.”
Your heart clenched tightly in your chest.
And then your eyes fell to his shoulder.
“Oh, my…” you winced at the sight of the soppy fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry for that…”
He looked confused at first, but followed your line of sight and smiled. “Was this an excuse to get me out of my shirt?”
His playful jab immediately had you chuckle, rolling your eyes at him.
“Not to mention that I've been covered in all sorts of your bodily fluids,” he went on, earning a surprised glare from you. “This might be my…” he paused brielfy, as if evaluating his options. “Ah - my third favourite, yes.”
You should have known better than to take the evident glare, but you could really use the distraction.
“What are the first two, then?”
You hadn't even realised your nightdress had come undone at the front until he reached out to pull back the sleeve that had slid down your arm.
Glancing down, you couldn't help the rush of heat on your cheeks as your breasts were barely covered at all.
“Blood, naturally,” he said in a low voice, tying each set of strings with unmatched dexterity, keeping your modesty preserved. “And your-”
But before he could reply, you quickly pressed your forefinger to his lips, eyes widening as you felt him smile under your touch and pressing a soft kiss.
You felt as though you might implode.
His hands moved up your chest, tying up the last knots.
“There - all neatly wrapped up like a nice little gift.” He said, amusement coating his words.
He was too good at getting under your skin.
More than you were willing to admit, especially out loud.
“Thank you for making me laugh.” You said truthfully, pushing aside how he had so easily made you feel all heated up.
“I aim to please.”
His words hit you like a thousand knives.
“You're more than that…” You said, wanting to reassure him that he didn't need to resort to honeyed words and calculated moves to create a meaningful connection with someone.
But your statement had the opposite effect, and he frowned slightly.
“Don't. Do not start…”
You swallowed and nodded in understanding. “I didn't mean to offend.”
He shook his head, adjusting the fabric of your nightdress over your shoulders. “You didn't. I merely do not wish to make this about me.”
You were slightly taken aback.
“I know all too well the burden of nightmares,” he explained. “Even if elves don't indulge in conventional sleep, we are still prone to nightmares when we trance.”
Oh.
“And I would hate for you to be plagued like that.”
You lowered your gaze, feeling extremely exposed all of a sudden.
“So tell me, darling, when did these start?” He asked, shifting closer to you. “And why were you screaming my name?”
You felt a lump swell in your throat.
He placed his finger under your chin, and pressed upwards until your eyes met his.
“What haunts you?”
You.
“Can we just… not…” You asked, already feeling tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.
Reason told you that a heartfelt conversation with Astarion was long overdue, but you didn't feel ready.
You still felt too startled and too vulnerable.
He had hurt you in more ways than one, even if unconsciously done at times.
“We don't have to talk about it.”
You nodded, a few tears rolling down. “Thank you.”
“We can push all of that aside, even if just for tonight.”
Your heart hammered fast inside you.
He then cradled your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips to each cheek, kissing your tears away.
Your eyes fluttered shut as he trailed down, inching closer to your lips.
A shudder coursed throughout your entire body, barely able to contain the anticipation.
Please kiss me…
His thumbs rubbed slow circles on your flushed cheeks and your lips parted as his ghosted yours.
Astarion…
Almost there.
You could almost taste him.
Your hands came to grip his wrists tightly, silently urging him to take you.
Please… please…
As your heart thudded faster and faster, you gasped when he quickly kissed the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your forehead.
You couldn't deny the overwhelming wave of disappointment that washed over you, even if, deep down, you realised it was probably the best course of action, considering how vulnerable you still felt from the nightmare.
A few more tears spilled over, which he quickly brushed away before pulling back.
“I can stay until you fall asleep.”
Your heart dropped.
Everything was conditional with him.
It was always meant to come to an end, eventually.
He would stay with you… but only until you drifted off to another nightmare, perhaps.
It was as if he couldn't simply stay with you.
You shook your head with a sniffle, letting go of him. “No. You can go… but thank you for this.”
“I can stay.”
“... until I fall asleep.” You finished his sentence.
He nodded, eyes locking with yours. “Or for as long as you need me.”
You felt ridiculous from the way your heart immediately skipped a beat.
“Will you hug me?”
He shifted back against the headboard and sprawled his arms out to you with a sly grin. “Come here, darling.”
For a brief moment, you saw your Astarion again.
Open and caring.
You scooted over to rest your body against his, smiling softly as he placed his arm around you, trailing absent-minded caresses along your arm.
His coldness felt comfortable even in the dead of night, and you wrapped your arm around his torso, enjoying the silence.
“Am I too cold?”
You're perfect.
You shook your head vehemently.
But he still reached out to grab the blanket at your feet, draping over your frame.
“You are shivering, you fool.” He whispered and you could hear the smile in his remark.
You snuggled up against him, wishing you could freeze this moment in time.
Slowly but surely, and lulled by his caresses, you felt exhaustion take over, your eyelids feeling progressively heavier.
Maybe this was all a dream.
Maybe you'd wake up only to find that this had never happened.
That you hadn't felt your Astarion once again.
His chin was resting atop your head and your heart skipped yet another beat.
“Astarion?”
“Hmm?”
“What happened to us…”
The hand on your arm stilled for a moment and he hushed you. “Just rest.”
Your eyelids did feel heavy, and you could recognise your own brain fighting away your sleep, but you still wanted to know.
You needed to know what had gone so terribly wrong.
Especially when the man holding you in his arms had just provided immeasurable comfort.
“I miss you… us…” You heard yourself mumble under your breath.
He did utter something unintelligible, but you were far too exhausted to ask for a repeat.
Your warm body slumped against his cold one as he lulled you into sleep with the rhythmic caresses on your back.
It seemed that this time, your nightmare had started and ended with him.
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Morning came and he was gone.
Of course he was.
Even with your windows barred from the sun, he had still chosen to leave.
He had tucked you under the bedsheets and warm blankets.
You had nearly forgotten what a good night of sleep was ever since the nightmares had taken root in your mind.
His scent lingered all around you and it was impossible to escape it.
You eventually pushed yourself up to sit in silence, going over the events of a couple of hours ago.
Why did he always leave in the end?
Why couldn't you just bring yourself to move on from him?
You could have taken the time to open up to him about how you felt, but you were so afraid to push him away.
He had his own vulnerabilities and he didn't need yours weighing him down, too.
You lazily scrambled out of bed, slipping into your robe, ready for a new day.
As you made your way down the corridor, you began to hear heated voices coming from the kitchen.
“Must we all live in darkness because of you?”
You found Astarion sitting by the table, seemingly unbothered by Lae'zel's snarky remarks, the room plunged in darkness, keeping the scorching sun at bay.
“Oh please, feel free to address your complaints to the Grand Duke.”
Gale saw you first and offered a warm smile. “How are you feeling, my friend?”
You hugged yourself, forcing a smile. “I am well, thank you.”
Astarion turned his head to you, annoyance giving way to a sliver of concern. “Did you manage to get some rest?”
You nodded, your heart immediately reacting to his presence.
“Shall I brew some chamomile tea?” Gale offered eagerly, moving about the kitchen to gather the supplies.
“Thank you,” you said, glancing around. “Where is Shadowheart?”
“She headed out to the apothecary,” Gale said, placing the kettle by the fireplace. “She's keen on helping you out with these nightmares.”
Guilt hit you.
Of course she had.
Shadowheart had held your hand through so many perils, yet you couldn't help but to feel guilty that she was searching for help when the solution to your problem was right in front of you.
And he kept glaring at you, as if studying your every move.
A soft knock on the front door snapped you from your thoughts, and you went to push it open, revealing the visitor.
No.
No fucking way.
You immediately slammed the door shut, feeling rage swirl inside you.
“Who is it?” Gale asked.
“No one.”
Then your gaze met Astarion's whose eyebrow was arched in confusion.
“That is no way to treat a guest.” The woman outside chirped happily.
Ava.
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Next chapter: Broken - November 26
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