#man i really am rambling today huh. sorry. i should sleep

[daz4i]

it's so annoying that like. i have so many mental issues and types of trauma that only a therapist who knew me for years might even be able to approach it. but in order to reach that state i need to start with a therapist who hasn't known me for years. and they're usually not equipped to deal with my shit to say the least, or if they would be then they might still chicken out too soon, or they'll approach it from the wrong direction etc. jesus fuck

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 2.

Part 1- Here

Next- Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate

Where we left off-

You twisted the hem of your shirt, silence growing as you thought. Your mother wasn’t saying anything new. On your lonelier days, like today, the words sounded eerily similar to your own thoughts. If this conversation had happened on any other day, you knew how forceful your ‘No!’ would be. But today was today.

“Okay.” Your whisper seemed more like a shout into the quiet. “I’ll do it. I’ll go.”

“You will? Oh Y/N! How wonderful! Since I already said yes, of course. You’ll need to come home right away, the omiai is the day after tomorrow, and we need to get you a proper outfit!”

“So soon?” Your mind raced. Bakugou was still in heat. What would you do? There was no way… Your thoughts slowed. But there was a way. Plenty of ways. Katsuki had many friends that could look after him. Friends he was actually comfortable letting into his apartment. You knew he’d let Kirishima take care of him. Mina absolutely could convince him to eat and drink, no matter how grumpy he was. There was a pain in your chest as a familiar thought wound through your brain. Katsuki didn’t need you. He never had. As if in a fog, you heard yourself saying, “I’ll need a little bit to take care of some things here; but I can be home tonight. See you soon.” You heard your mother happily continue rambling even as you hung up. You stared at the wall for a few minutes, unseeing. You were really doing this, huh? Pushing yourself up, you rummaged around your kitchen; finding bags and filling them with snacks and drinks. Before you could think better of it, you dialed Kirishima. He answered on the fourth ring. “Hey dude! What’s up?” “Kiri, I need your help. Can you come over now? I’ll explain when you get here.” “Yeah man, I’ll be right over. Hang tight.” A few short minutes later, there was a knock on your door. You opened it to see a tall, concerned looking redhead. You ushered him inside as you went back to the kitchen, continuing to make up care packs. “Hey, now what is it, Y/n? It sounded serious.” “It is and it isn’t,” you say; looking over at him as you shove gatorade into bags. “There’s a… family emergency. I need to go home right away for a few days.” “Ouch, that’s rough man! It’s Bakubro having his heat right now?” “Exactly. That’s why I need your help. Can you bring one of these bags to him each day? Make sure he eats and drinks at least? I know he trusts you.”

Kirishima nodded enthusiastically. “Of course man! Anything to help!” He looked over the supplies, inconspicuously checking what you’d already packed. “You want to scent some stuff for him before you go too?” You shook your head, forcing yourself not to wince as you lied to your friend yet again. “I’d better not. I don’t want to give him a bag of stuff soaked in distressed alpha scent. Besides, I scented some stuff for him this morning; that should be enough.”

Kirishima frowned but nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Have you told him yet?”

You shake your head. “No. No reason to stress him out until I know for sure what I’m dealing with, and call when I have a better idea. Might not even take a full day if I’m lucky.” “Yeah, hopefully. It’s really shit timing, isn’t it.” You nod as you place the last of the bags on the counter, satisfied with your work. “It is. But I trust you to take care of him. You’re a great alpha like that.” Kirishima chuckled and preened at the praise. “I am great, aren’t I? I’ll do my best, but I’m no match for you.” You give a small, tight smile as you walk to your junk drawer, rummaging until you find one of your spare keys. You chuck it at your friend, who catches it easily. “Here. This way you can let yourself in and just grab a bag each day.”

“Can do, Dudette! Anything else?”

You considered as you retrieved a duffle bag, making a mental list of what you’d need to pack. “Not really? I haven’t told anybody else that I’m going yet. Wasn’t sure if I should ask Mina or some of the others to check in too. You know how Bakugou can be with his heats, and I want to make sure he’s comfortable.”

“Oh yeah, that makes sense. I’ll probably wait til tomorrow and see what he wants to do.” Kiri watched you as you paced around. “Need any help packing?”

You nodded with half a smile. “Yeah. Thanks, Kiri.”

In a few short hours you were packed with enough supplies for a few days, and on a train headed home. Your mother had agreed to meet you at the station. The scenery rushed by a window in a blur. Your eyes were unfocused as you watched the view whip by. You were really doing this. For the first time in years, you were leaving your omega… No. You were leaving Katsuki alone for his heat. You were leaving him alone so you could go to a marriage date. To meet an omega theoretically with the intention of bonding. Guilt weighed heavily on you as you exited the train hours later. You saw your mother waving to you from across the station. This was it. No turning back now.

~~~

Bakugou growled as the morning light streamed in his window, smacking him across the eyes. He wished he could just sleep until the whole fucking heat was over. He hated everything about it. He hated the itching of his skin, the hazy fog affecting his brain, the slimy slick that oozed out of him steadily. He hated the burning need to fuck and breed and to have his alpha close. Bakugou snarled to himself. He refused to be a slave to his weak ass biology. He wasn’t some weak, pitiful, flower. He was a top ten hero! He was going to be number one! And the next bastard who told him he should be home tending to his pups and letting an alpha take care of him was going to get an explosion up the ass. As if he needed some knotted headed alpha. Bakugou glanced at his clock, frowning when he saw the time. Usually his alpha would be here by now to drop off his care bag. He scratched at the swollen, irritated scent glands on his neck. It’s not like he fucking cared if Y/N was late. Just, he couldn’t remember the last time she had been. And maybe he was getting antsy because the strength of his heat scent was already starting to overpower the scented blanket he had woven into his nest, close to his pillows.

A knock sounded from the door, and with a relieved huff Bakugou rushed to answer it. He took a deep breath in to calm himself, before flinging the door open.

“About fucking time you showed up, shitty…” He trailed off as his brain registered the tall, red-headed man standing in front of him was very much not his alpha. “What the fuck are you doing here, shitty hair?”

Kirishima rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. “Hey man, sorry not to call beforehand, but I told Y/N I wouldn’t.” Confused, Bakugou looks Kirishima up and down again, this time spotting the familiar bag the redhead was holding. “What the fuck are you doing with my stuff? Where’s my shitty alpha?” Kiri frowned and held up the bag. “Don’t call Y/N shitty. She asked me to bring this over. Look, man, can I just come in and explain what’s going on?”

Reluctantly, Bakugou stood aside holding the door open as his friend came in. The blond stuck his head into the hallway, half looking for his alpha. His inner omega growing restless when there was no sign of you. With a grumble, he slammed the door, turning to where his friend had thrown himself onto the sofa. “So what the fuck, Kirishima? Where’s Y/N? Why didn’t she come here herself?”

Kiri tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling. “She had some sort of family emergency and had to go home for a bit. She didn’t want to worry you because she didn’t know how serious it was or how long it would take. She said she’d call and update us when she’s able to.”

Bakugou’s omega whimpered in his chest. His alpha was gone? His alpha had left him alone when he couldn’t follow to make sure they were alright? He knew how much your family stressed you out normally, let alone in an emergency. A traitorous part of his brain whispered to him, asking if this wasn’t exactly what he had wanted? Hadn’t he growled at his mate, wanting to be left alone? Bakugou hadn’t realized there was a plaintive whine escaping his throat until Kirishima wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, bro, it’s okay. I know it’s rough, but I’m here. And I can call Mina and Sero if you want company. Been a while since we’ve had a pack get together. Y/N might not be here right now, but she wanted to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.”

Bakugou nodded stiffly as he went to go paw through the bag Kirishima had brought.

Jerky, drinks, chocolate- Bakugou frowned. “Was this the only bag?”

“I mean, there’s a bag for each day for about a week’s worth; so I just grabbed one. Why man, something missing? Need me to go get you something?”

Katsuki shook his head. He wasn’t going to ask Kirishima of all people where his usual bag of scented items was. If Y/N was in a rush, that would explain it. Bakugou hoped that was the case, and he wouldn’t have to actually ask you to scent things for him again. He’d rather be kidnapped by villains again than admit to how much your rich chocolate scent soothed him and helped him sleep peacefully. There was no way the items you had left yesterday would last him through the rest of his heat.

“Actually, shitty hair, could you go get me some Yakult? Been craving it this heat.” Kiri jumped up with a grin. “Sure, bro! No problem! Be right back!” The omega gave a lazy wave as Kiri jogged out the door. As soon as the door shut, he bolted to the bathroom and applied as much scent blocker as he could stand. It wouldn’t hold up long against his heat pheromones, but should work for what he intended to do. Bakugou grabbed his keyring from the hook by the door, rushed down the hallway to the stairway, and started climbing upward; taking the stairs three at a time. In less than a minute, he was standing outside the door to your apartment.

It felt strange, Katsuki thought as he flipped through his keys until he found yours. It was strange that in all your years of dating he had only been inside your apartment a handful of times. He unlocked the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. As the wall of scent that was uniquely you smacked him in the face, he felt the tension in his shoulders ease. Maybe the strangest thing was that you lived three floors apart instead of sharing a space together. Because then he wouldn’t be here, doing this; he thought as he made a beeline to your bedroom. He knew exactly what he was after. Recently scented items lost their smell fairly quickly. But something you used daily, with your scent glands brushing against it every time? That would last him a month, if not longer. Besides. You were his alpha. He wouldn’t have to come in and steal your pillow if you had just scented more stuff for him in the first place. He buried his face in your pillow and inhaled deeply. He whimpered as your rich scent filled his nose, causing his slick to increase. Reluctantly he made his way to the door with his prize, even as every instinct told him to build a nest on the soft bed and wait for his mate to come home to him.

~~~~~

You sighed, adjusting the cuffs of the outfit your mother had picked and shoved you into. Today was the day. The day you met your perspective “bride.” You snorted at the old fashioned ideology. At times like these you felt like you understood Bakugou better. Omegas deserved to be treated as more than just their dynamic. Luckily, most of society agreed nowadays; with omegas able to hold any job and no one being forced to marry. Unluckily, the omiai remained one of the last extremely traditional accepted ceremonies. Your parents were in another room, exchanging your scented handkerchief with one from whoever the poor omega was. According to tradition, if you both went into heat and rut upon scenting each other; you would both be married and mated that same day. What happened more often, you thought cynically, is as long as you didn’t gag at each other’s scent, you’d meet in person to see if you found each other compatible.

You were broken out of your ruminations by the sound of a door opening. Your mother practically skipped toward you, holding out the paper wrapped package with the hanky inside. You tuned out her nattering about how good this match could be as you unwrapped the paper and brought the cloth to your nose. Your brow furrowed. You inhaled deeply, just to make sure. The sharp tang of citrus hit your nose. You knew this scent from somewhere. “Hey mom,” you spoke softly. “I think I’d like to see them now.”

“Oh!” Your mother blinked in surprise. “Of course, of course! This way!”

Your mother led you into an elegant private room. You settled onto a cushion as your parents went to see if the omega had agreed to meet. Glancing about the room, you wondered exactly how many times you’d see the inside of this teahouse if you kept agreeing to these meetings. It didn’t feel right, you thought with a frown. But if you gave up on Bakugou, this was your destiny. Awkward meeting after awkward meeting until you clicked enough with someone to risk settling down.

You glanced up at the sound of the door. In came your parents, then the Yokomadas. You did a double take as the final person, the omega you were here to meet, entered the room. They looked equally as startled as your eyes locked.

“Y/N?”

“Denki?!”

That's it for part 2! Thank you for reading, and stay tuned for part 3! If anyone has any questions regarding the fic or how this particular omegaverse operates, please feel free to shoot me an ask.

Taglist- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04 Also, please note that @snuggleyourredpandas is my main account, so it you see a message reply from them, that's me!

[cobaltusami]

Can we get a Ishimondo fic please? Maybe lee!Mondo but its up to you lee!Taka is fine too. May we a tk fic with ishimondo is all I request if its ok friend.

I mcfricking love these two dorks so much-- I had a blast writing this so thank you so much for requesting It friend!

Words: 2746

Characters: Lee!Mondo, Ler!Taka

Pairing: Ishimondo

EDIT: Part two Is here!

Part two: Lesson Learned

Merciless

The library was normally vacant at this hour, as most sane people were In their beds sleeping at three In the morning. Not Kiyotaka Ishimaru though. And by proxy, neither was Mondo Owada, whom Taka had pulled out of bed at this ungodly hour to help study before classes started for the day.

Mondo propped his face up with his hand, His eyes half open as Taka droned on about biology. Was he listening? Well… An attempt was certainly made. But that was It.

The biker hadn’t even had time to fix his hair or throw on real clothes when his boyfriend came barging In- Something he normally didn’t mind but found a bit much today.

He had time to quickly throw on a zip up jacket and throw his hair up into a messy bun, a look he didn’t particularly care to sport. At least his pajama pants sort of matched his jacket…

“Mondo! Are you even listening to me??” Taka stopped his lecture suddenly, whipping around to face his half asleep boyfriend.

“Huh? Yeah, Totally.” Mondo mumbled, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes. 

“Repeat back what I just said.” Taka challenged, folding his arms as he sat down across from the other student.

“You were talking about bones and stuff.” He yawned and stretched.

Taka sighed, resting his arms on the table. “Yes but you aren’t taking In anything I’m saying.” He responded in a softer tone.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying It’s just…” Mondo felt his face flush with embarrassment. “It’s too god damn early In the morning!” 

He tried to put on his usual annoyed or angry tone, But he failed miserably. This didn’t go unnoticed by the energized student.

“Is something else bothering you? Is It me? Do you not like studying with me?” Taka rambled anxiously. “Because I-If so, I can ask someone else to--”

“No! No, It’s nothing like that.” Mondo interrupted, He reached across the table and grabbed Taka’s hands, holding them in his own slightly trembling one’s. “I-It’s just… I’m sorry.” He sighed, Looking away.

“What Is It? What’s bothering you, Bro?”

Mondo flinched, internally shoving his feelings aside as he refused to look at Ishimaru. “Don’t worry about It.” He replied in a softer tone.

Taka knew Mondo quite well by now, as they had been dating for several months. He knew that something was definitely troubling the Biker gang leader, And that he would sooner convince Leon that baseball was fun than he would get him to discuss what was troubling him.

That’s why he needed some... Encouragement.

“Fine. I guess we should continue then.” He pulled his hands away slowly, he didn’t really want to break the hold but it was required for this to work. “Perhaps I need a more direct teaching method.”

Mondo quizzically studied his face. What could he mean by that?

Taka got up and went over to Mondo’s side. “What are the bones in your spine called?”

“Wha? That’s not In the…”

“Answer my question.”

Mondo narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the raven haired student. What Is he up to? “Vertebrae.”

“Very good. How many are there?” Taka walked around him, Standing behind him now.

“Fuck If I know, That’s not even on this upcoming tes--” Mondo clamped his mouth shut as he felt a finger slowly trailing up his spine. He arched his back away from the strange sensations as he stifled a giggle. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He snapped.

As he tried to turn around In his seat to fix Taka with a glare, He felt Taka place his forearm against the back of his shoulders near his neck, and pushed him down against the table, pinning him there.

“How many Vertebrae make up the spine?” He repeated the question calmly, As If this were totally normal.

“Get the hell off of me!” He complained, struggling. Taka was surprisingly strong, able to hold him in place with relative ease.

He felt fingers begin to lightly scribble around his back, paying special attention to his spine. He tried to suppress his giggles, But found he was unable to due to being so tired. “T-Tahahaka! What the hehehell are you doing?!”

“I’m helping you study.” He answered without missing a beat. “How many Vertebrae are there?”

“Thihihihirty threehehehehe!” He giggled tiredly, Relieved when the tickling stopped momentarily.

“Correct. See? You did know! It Is The Cervical, The Thoracic, The Lumbar, and The Caudal vertebrae that make up the spine.” He informed him. “Where on your spine Is the Cervical?”

“The neck.”

“Good. How many of those thirty three are Cervical Vertebrae?” He asked, Smirking.

“I-I don’t know!” Mondo stammered, feeling butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

“That’s not an answer, Kyoudai.” Taka teased, fluttering his fingers lightly against his neck. 

This action drew an actual squeal from the tough biker as he tried to turn his head to protect his neck. “Tahahahaka! Stahahahap Ihit!”

“As soon as you answer my question!” The Ultimate Moral Compass couldn’t help but chuckle at the not so manly sounds coming from Mondo-- who by the way, was giggling quite adorably at the moment he might add.

“I dohohohon’t knohohow!” He tittered, squirming around to no avail.

“Think about It, how many does it feel like?” Taka hummed. Adjusting his hold on Mondo, he was now able to use his other hand to tickle his neck. He used his other hand to press into each vertebrae in his neck carefully. “Count out loud, How many Is It?” 

Mondo decided that Taka was enjoying this waaaay too much, and he was so gonna get it later. “Onehehe, Twohoho… Threehehee, F-Fohohour…”

Taka suddenly leaned forward and smothered the side of Mondo’s neck with raspberries, Causing him to shriek in surprise.

“FihihivEEEEE! HAHAHAHA! T-TAHAHAKAaAaA!”

“Oh, Whoops, Looks like you lost count. Guess I’ll just start over for you.” He smiled, starting over at the top of his neck. “Don’t lose count this time~”

“I swehehear to gohohod, You’re sohohoho dead after thihis!” He giggled, sending his best glare over his shoulder at his evil boyfriend.

“You’re not counting, Kyoudai~” He sang teasingly, speeding up the tickles to his neck.

Mondo began laughing now, complying with his demands and counting aloud once again.

After some very s l o w movements down his neck, most likely to extend the tickles and make him suffer, he finally arrived at the last vertebrae. “Seheheheven! Ihihihit’s seheheven!” 

Taka relented, pulling back and releasing Mondo from his hold. “Very good!” He beamed.

While Mondo was leaning back in his seat catching his breath, Taka thought about his next attack. He reached around the chair, pinning Mondo’s arms to his sides as he unzipped Mondo’s jacket. 

“The fuck are you doing now?” He panted, too tired to struggle.

Taka leaned down and rested his chin on his shoulder, smiling as he glanced at Mondo’s flushed face. “How many ribs does a person have?”

Mondo’s eyes widened as he nervously thought about it. “T-Twenty four?”

“You don’t sound too sure, Mondo.” Taka continued to smile as he spoke. “Are you absolutely sure?”

Mondo went over his previous biology classes in his head, thinking it over as quickly as he could. “Yeah.” He replied carefully, not liking the smile on Taka’s face one bit.

Taka hummed. “Okay… If that’s your answer.”

“W-Wait! H-How many Is it??”

“I thought you were absolutely sure?”

“I-I am! I just… want confirmation.” 

“Well, If you insist.” Without another word he dug into his ribs.

“TAKA! I mehehean’t verbal confirmaaaation! HAhahahahahaha!”

“You weren’t specific, And since you’ve had trouble taking in my verbal teachings thus far, I feel like my hands on approach Is much more effective!” He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Worry not, Kyoudai! I’ll count for you this time!” 

“Dohohohon’t you fucking dahahahare!”

Ignoring the empty threats and string of curses Taka began massaging circles against the sensitive bones, starting at the bottom and working his way up. “One, Two, Three…”

“Shuhuhuhut the fuhuhuhuck up!” Mondo barked out through his laughter, his face was hot with embarrassment at the teasing.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. And you made me lose my place!” Taka frowned, pausing his ticklish attack.

“Y-You deserved It.” Mondo mumbled between small gasps for air.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset, I’m simply trying to help you better your grades!” He said innocently.

“Bull fucking shit.” The Biker retorted. “You’re just having fun tickling the hell out of me, You’re fucking merciless!”

His cruel boyfriend let out an amused laugh, Mondo could be such a drama king sometimes… “Please, Mondo. I--”

“Just you wait until I get my hands on you, Kiyotaka Ishimaru. You’re gonna scream so loud with laughter that you won’t be able to talk for days.” 

“Oh? Is that a threat?” Mercy? We don’t know her anymore. Taka has now woken up and chosen violence.

“Well, In that case, I suppose I should take it up a notch… Wouldn’t you agree, Kyoudai?” The red eyed man whispered in his hotheaded boyfriend’s ear.

Mondo Is now as good as dead, Like please sign your last will and testament by the x on the dotted line.

“W-What are yo--”

“How many nerves are In the human body?” 

“How am I supposed to know?! No one knows an exact amount!”

“Maybe not an exact number, But there is an approximate. So what Is it?” Taka asked. “How many horribly ticklish nerves do you have?”

It was at this moment he knew, He fucked up. “T-Taka wait I--”

“Hmm. Well, Perhaps I can help you figure It out.” Taka smiled mischievously as he shoved his hands under Mondo’s arms, wiggling his fingers with reckless abandon.

Mondo screeched and threw his head back in hysterics. He thrashed around with newfound energy. “SHIHIHIT! TAHAHAHAHAKA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE!”

“Well? Do you want to wager a guess? How many nerves does it feel like?” Taka’s sweet smile deceived his cruel actions. “I would imagine It has to be quite a few! You wouldn’t be laughing this much If there weren’t a lot of ticklish nerve endings everywhere. Especially In this spot.”

Mondo doubled over as much as he could, laughter wracking his body. He did this in an attempt to break Taka’s bearhug-like hold on him, but he held strong. “I DOHOHOHON’T KNOW!” 

“Not even a guess? Okay, I’ll give you a hint then. It’s not a million or a billion!” Taka laughed at the squeal that erupted from his boyfriend when he started tickling faster.

“FAHAHAHACK! A-A TRIHIHIHILLION!?”

“Yes! But how many trillion Mondo??”

There was no end In sight, Nor any escape. He even tried throwing himself out of the chair but the merciless assailant wouldn’t allow him to, since he had his arms locked around the back of the chair as well.

After what felt like forever, The Biker sank back into the chair, his head resting against The hall monitor’s shoulder as he laughed. His body felt like jello at this point from a mixture of laughing, struggling, and just not getting a lot of sleep the night before.

Surprisingly enough, Taka relented and withdrew his hands, though he kept his arms around the still giggling man before him. “The answer Is over seven trillion.” 

“Fuhuhuck… That was evil…” He panted.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have threatened me.” the raven haired man hummed in response. “Besides, I learned from you.”

Okay, so maybe we do know who Mercy Is, It seems like things are finally calming down between these two and-- 

“It wasn’t a threat… It was a damn promise…” Mondo growled.

Taka sighed. “You never learn, Do you?”

He unceremoniously released his hold on Mondo as he had started to struggle again, causing the biker to tip his chair over to the side and hit the floor with a yelp of surprise and an ungraceful thud.

Taka was quick to follow him to the floor, straddling his legs and grabbing both of his wrists in one hand to hold them in place. “Are you ready for your next lesson?” He asked, Energized again.

“For the last time… Get the hell off of me!” Mondo yelled, flailing as much as possible. Though that wasn’t a whole lot.

“Don’t worry, It’s the final question!” Taka responded with a mischievous smile. “Ready?”

Mondo eyed him cautiously but said nothing.

Taka leaned down near Mondo’s face, His smile widening into a grin as he spoke in a calm tone. “How many raspberries can your stomach take?”

Chills shot down his spine, that had to be the most unnerving question he’s gotten In a while. “T-Taka, Don’t you dare. I swear to God! I will kick your ass!” He tried to sound angry, but It came out panicked instead.

“Well? How many? One? Two?” Taka pondered aloud. 

“None!”

“None? I’m sure that’s not true, Kyoudai! Don’t be modest, You’re quite tough... I think you can handle at least five!” Taka beamed, giggling.

“FIVE?! Do you want to kill me!? I’ll fucking die!”

“But Mondo! We must find out, For science!” Taka declared, wasting no more time he dipped down and blew a raspberry against Mondo’s quivering belly.

The Ultimate exploded, Laughing rather uproariously as his back arched out of reflex. “NAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! TAHAHAHAKAA!”

“One~” He sang teasingly before blowing another raspberry.

“GAHAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAMMIT STAHAHAHAHAP!”

“Two~” and another one. “Three~”

“IHIHIHIHIM SOHOHOHORRY FOR THREHEHEHEATENING YOUHUHU!” 

“Hmm? What was that?” Taka asked, halting his ‘scientific studies’ for a moment.

“I-I’m sohohorry… for threheheheatening you…” The giggles still poured freely past his lips as he gasped for air. “I wohohn’t… Get revehehenge on you… Just stohohop…”

“What If I don’t believe you?” Taka asked cautiously.

“I promise…” Mondo mumbled. “I won’t seek revenge on you If you let me up right now.”

Hmmmmm…

“I’ll let you up on one more condition.” Kiyotaka said, His face  turned serious for the first time since this started. “Tell me what was bothering you earlier.”

Mondo flinched. “L-Listen man… It’s kind of embarrassing…”

“Why? You know I don’t judge you, Kyoudai.” Taka frowned. “You can tell me anything.”

“N-Not this I can’t.” Mondo stuttered, Looking away. “Just trust me, It’s better you don’t-- GAHAHAHAHA! TAAAHAHAHAHAHAKAHAHA!” He shrieked with laughter as Taka blew another raspberry.

“Four. Sorry bro, But those are my demands. If you do not comply then I’ll be forced to--”

“OKAYOKAY JUST STAHAP!”

Taka smiled and moved off of the tough student, sitting next to him on the floor. “What was bothering you?” he asked after giving him a moment to collect himself.

Mondo sat up, his face burning with embarrassment as he spoke. “It’s just…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “When I’m tired, I wanna find somewhere comfortable to rest… And…”

“And?” Taka asked, perplexed.

Mondo took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “W-WELL, I KEPT ZONING OUT BECAUSEIWANTEDTOCUDDLEUPTOYOUANDSLEEP-- There! I said It!” 

Taka’s face turned pink and his eyes widened a little. He knew Mondo was telling the truth, because he yelled. Which meant he was nervous. 

“S-S-See? I told you that you didn’t want to-- ACK!”

Mondo opened his eyes just in time to get tackled back down to the floor by Taka, This time In a hug. “Why didn’t you just say so earlier!? I was worried you didn’t like spending so much time with me or something!” He mumbled into Mondo’s shoulder.

“Wha?? Why the fuck would you think that?! Of course I like spending time with you babe!”

Babe... It has a nice ring to it. “B-Because... Most people get tired of me.” 

Mondo frowned and gently pulled back from Taka’s hug to look into his eyes. “Hey, Listen. I will never get tired of you. I love spending time with you!”

“Even today?” Taka looked up at Mondo with a hopeful look on his face. 

His cheeks turned red again. “Y-Yeah… Even today… J-Just don’t get used to using that teaching method!” He tried to pick up the shattered pieces of his tough exterior, but alas, they were gone.

Taka giggled with amusement. “Deal. I’ll only use it when you really aren’t paying attention.”

Mondo flinched, Making a mental note to try to always pay attention from now on.

Taka went to pull away from him, but Mondo pulled him back against his chest. “Where do you think you’re going? This Isn’t over.” Mondo smirked.

“B-But Mondo! You promised you wouldn’t--”

“Uh-uh~ I promised no revenge if you were to let me up at that exact moment. Which you did not.” The biker reminded teasingly, positioning his fingers over Taka’s sides. “Any last words, Kyoudai?”

“W-Wait, M-Mondo-- NOHOHOHO!”

Let’s just say, Not a whole lot of studying was done for the remainder of their session. The library filled with laughter once more.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 3

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,600ish

Summary: The beginning of your intern year continues.

Warnings: man parts (lol) and talk about rape

You really tried your best, but you couldn’t get the image of a naked Dr. Steve Rogers on the floor of your living room out of your head. You had decided one night that, to help get the image out of your head, you needed roommates. The house that you had inherited was big enough and the longer you lived there, the lonelier it became. So, you created a ‘roommates wanted’ sign and posted it in the locker room before your shift.

You had several interns come up to you explaining why they would be the perfect roommate for you within the first few hours of your shift. It was annoying and you turned every single one of them down, being very particular about who was going to live with you.

“Why do you put up posters for roommates if you don’t want roommates?” Val asked as you, her, and Scott walked down a corridor.

“I do want roommates,” you defended. 

“And why can’t we be those roommates?” Scott wondered

“We’re just together a hundred hours a week, you want to live together too?”

“No,” Natasha responded, walking up to the group. “Ooh, you’re bringing bribes now?” She motioned to the cup of coffee in your hand.

“I need a place to live,” Scott rambled. “My mom irons my scrubs. I have to get out of there.”

“It’s not a bride,” you told Natasha before turning to Scott. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But I can’t put down last, first, and deposit,” Scott argued.

“It’s totally a bride,” Natasha scoffed.

“I can cook,” Val added. “And I can clean.”

“No,” you stated. “I just want two total strangers who I don't have to talk to, or be nice to, and it's not a bribe, it's a mocha latte.”

“Clint, you’re running the code team,” Gamora ordered as you all walked up to her. “Y/N, take the trauma patients, Natasha, deliver the weekend labs to patients, Val, you’re on sutures, and Scott, you’re on scut.”

“Dr. Gamora,” you called. “I was hoping to assist you in the OR today, maybe do a minor procedure? I think I'm ready. Mocha latte?” You held the cup out for her.

“If she gets to cut, I want to cut too,” Natasha added.

“Yeah, me too,” Val joined in.

“I wouldn’t mind another shot,” Scott shrugged.

“And if everybody else gets one, then I do too!” Clint said.

“Stop talking,” Gamora demanded. You all fell silent. “Every intern wants to perform their first surgery, that's not your job. Do you know what your job is? To make your resident happy. Do I look happy? No. Why? Because my interns are whining. You know what will make me look happy? Having the code team staffed, having the trauma patients taken care of, having the weekend labs delivered, and having someone down in the Pit, doing the sutures.” She swiped the mocha latte from your hand. “No one holds a scalpel until I'm so happy I'm Mary freakin' Poppins.”

“Mocha latte my ass,” Natasha grumbled.

“Why’re y’all still standing there? Move!”

Everyone moved, you heading to the elevator with a few files. You paused in your steps when you noticed who was waiting at the elevator. Dr. Steve Rogers. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, before making your way to stand and wait next to him. When he noticed you, he tried to hide the pleasant smile that wanted to take over his face.

“New York has ferry boats,” he stated.

“Yes,” you replied, a bit confused.

“I didn’t remember that. I grew up here then left, now I’ve been living here for six weeks, and I didn’t remember there were ferry boats.”

“Well, Manhattan is an island.”

“Hence the ferry boats.” The elevator arrived and the two of you stepped onto it. “Now I have to like it here. I wasn’t planning on liking it here. I just moved here from the country. I’m supposed to not like big cities like Manhattan. But I have a thing for ferry boats.”

The elevators doors closed, leaving them alone in the elevator. He was leaning against the wall behind you as you stood in the middle, holding the files to your body. You hoped that he couldn’t hear your heart pounding in your chest. 

“I’m not going out with you,” you blurted. You don’t know if you were trying to tell him that or if you were trying to convince yourself that you weren’t interested.

“Did I ask you to go out with me?” He questioned. He paused before asking the next, “Do you want to go out with me?”

“I'm not dating you. And I'm definitely not sleeping with you again. You're my boss.”

“I'm your boss's boss.”

“You're my teacher. And my teacher's teacher. And you're my teacher.”

“I'm your sister, I'm your daughter,” he joked.

“You're sexually harassing me.”

“I'm riding an elevator.” He stepped towards you, you could practically feel him breathing down your neck. You spun around to face him.

“Look, I'm drawing a line. The line is drawn. There's a big line.”

“So, this line. Is it imaginary, or do I need to get you a marker?”

You stared at him for a second, basking in all his attractiveness. It didn’t take you very long to go ‘screw it’ and drop the files you were holding and kiss him. Steve was a tad surprised but caught on quickly. When the elevator dinged, you quickly crouched down to pick up the files and rushed out of the elevator. Steve stood there, looking amused.

“We’ll talk later?” He called after you. You ignored him and he chuckled to himself. “Definitely, later.”

~~~

In between taking care of patients, you had interns begging you to let them be your roommate. You were slowly regretting the idea of roommates the longer the day went on. Thankfully, your pager rang and requested you down in the ER.

“You the surgeon?” A nurse asked as you entered the room.

“Yes,” you replied.

“We’ve got a rape victim. 21-year-old female found down at the park, status: post-trauma, she came in with a GCS of 6, BP 80 over 60, head trauma, unequal breath sounds, right pupil is dilated, and she's ready for x-ray. You ready to roll?” You were listening but also focused on the girl’s shoes. They were the same ones you had worn to work. “Hey!”

“Uh, sorry,” you stumbled. “Yeah. Call it in to clear CT, let them know I'm coming, load up the portable monitor, call respiratory for a ventilator, I'll get x-rays while I'm down there.”

You quickly learned that the girls name was Mallory and, just by you reading the scans alone, she would be needing surgery. Dr. Banner and Dr. Rogers were both called in while you were allowed to watch and hopefully assist.

“She’s going to spend a hell of a lot of time in recovery and rehab,” Dr. Rogers stated.

“If she survives,” Dr. Banner added.

“What is she, like, 5'2", a hundred pounds, she's still breathing after what this guy did to her? If they catch the guy, they should castrate him.”

“See how shredded her hands are? She tried to fight back.”

“Tried to?” Dr. Stark repeated, walking into the room. “Rape kit came back negative. She kicked his ass.”

“So, we have a warrior amount us, huh?” Rogers questioned. 

“Hell yeah we do! I just came in to tell you about the rape kit and to see if you needed me anytime soon. Can’t have the poor girl be reminded of the incident with so many scars.”

“Mallory,” you interrupted. “Her—her name is Mallory.”

“Mallory,” Rogers and Stark repeated. 

“I think I may have found the cause of our rupture,” Banner said, pulling out a piece of flesh. “What is this?” He held it up. “Does anyone know what this is?”

“Oh my gosh,” you gasped, with Dr. Stark snickering from the sidelines.

“What? Spit it out, L/N.”

“She bit it off.”

“Bit off what?”

“That’s his…” You swallowed. “His penis.” Shocked groans filled the OR. “She bit off his penis.”

“Told you she kicked his ass!” Stark exclaimed as Banner couldn’t toss the piece of flesh into the try fast enough. 

~~~

After the surgery, the penis was placed in a small cooler. You were tasked to bring it to Fury for the police. You knocked at the door of his office, where an older woman is in there.

“Hi, is the chief in?” You asked.

“He’s on his way,” she responded. “Is that it?”

“Can I see it?” You looked down at the box and then up again. “No, forget I asked.”

“Y/N, it’s good to see you,” Fury greeted as he entered, going to his desk.

“You too, sir,” you responded with a nod. “Listen, so they said to bring this to you,” you lifted up the cooler. “So…?”

“Yes, for the police,” Fury responded.

“Right.”

“When did the police say they'll come?” Fury asked his assistant.

“You know how slow they are,” she answered. “So, she’d better take it with her.”

“What?” You questioned.

“You have to take it with you.”

“Chain of custody rules,” Fury explained. “All medical matter in a rape must stay with the person who collected it, until it's placed in police custody.”

“You collected the specimen, so you have custody.”

“Custody of a penis…” You said.

“Yes,” Fury answered. “Until the cops come for it.”

“Okay. Well, what am I supposed to do with the penis?”

Fury simply shrugged before excusing you. You huffed, leaving the office with the cooler. You wandered the halls until you saw Clint working at a desk. You walked over, setting the cooler down and causing Clint to look up at you.

“What’s that?” He pointed to the cooler as he asked.

“Don’t ask, you don’t want to know,” you responded.

“I do want to know. Really.”

“You really want to know?” Clint nodded. “It’s a severed penis.”

“Okay… I didn’t really want to know.”

“Told you.”

“I didn’t know why I have to be the one who gets hugged,” Natasha complained to Peter as they walked up.

“Because, I don’t do that,” Peter replied. “Besides, you're the ovarian sister here.”

“Did you just call me an ovarian sis— an ovarian— since when has the possession of ovaries become an insult?”

“Y/N’s carrying a penis around in a jar,” Clint interrupted.

“Oh, from the rape surgery?” Natasha looked around.

“Yeah,” you answered. “And it’s not a jar, it’s a cooler.”

“Talk about taking a bite out of crime.” Natasha chuckled as she left.

You were suddenly lost in your head, unable to stop thinking about Mallory’s shoes. They were the same as yours. You had worn them to work today, which was weird. You never really wear them.

“You okay?” Clint asked.

“Yeah… it’s just… Mallory's shoes. The rape victim, Mallory, her shoes. I have the same ones. In my locker. And I normally never wear them, because they're not comfortable, but today I did, and she was wearing the same shoes, and it's just… stupid, and I'm tired, and forget it.”

“You know what you need?” Clint stared at you.

“No. It’s stick and twisted. We said last time was the last time.” Clint looked away. “You’ve been doing it without me?”

“Nancy Reagan lied. You can't just say no. Come on.”

“Do you know what would happen if anyone knew?”

“I'm doing it. You can come with me… or you can stay here, and be miserable.”

“Fine,” you tried to hold back a smile as you followed Clint. 

He led you to the nursery, where you two stood at the window and watched the babies. You laughed as Clint did some baby talk.

“You are such a woman,” you laughed.

Clint’s pager beeped before he could retorted. “It’s a code,” he sighed. “I gotta go.” 

He left, leaving you to sigh as you watched the babies.

“You are really cute,” you whispered as you looked at them.

As you watched them, you noticed at one of the babies was struggling. His face was slowly turning blue. You quickly entered the nursery, setting the cooler to the side before checking the babies chart. Then you sided your stethoscope to check on the babies heart.

“What are you doing in here?” A Peds Intern asked, walking into the room.

“There were no tests ordered,” you answered. “And the baby has a murmur.”

“I know.”

“He turned blue.”

“You're surgery, you're not authorized to be in here. Do you know how much trouble you can get into for this?”

“Are you going to do any tests?”

“It's a benign systolic ejection murmur. It goes away with age.”

“So you're not going to do any tests.”

“He's not your patient, he's not even on your service.”

“Are you sure it’s benign?”

“I'm a doctor too, you know. You should get out of here.”

Deciding you’d rather not get in trouble, you grabbed the cooler and left. You were stopped along your wandering by more interns who wanted to room with you. After having listened to three of them, you walked away, still unimpressed, and went to Mallory’s room. You were looking at her through the window when Dr. Rogers came up.

“Y/N,” he greeted. “I've called every hospital in the county. Sooner or later, the guy that did this is going to seek medical attention, and when he does, that penis you're carrying around is going to nail him.”

“Where is her family?” You asked.

“Doesn’t have any.”

“No siblings?”

“No. Both parents are dead. She just moved to New York three weeks ago. Welcome to the city.” When you didn’t give a response he turned to look at you. You were lost in your thoughts. “Y/N, you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just… I just have to do something. I have to go.”

“Right. I’m going to sit with her.”

You nodded before rushing away to find Dr. Banner.

“Dr. Banner?” You called when you saw him.

“Mmm?” He hummed, turning to face you.

“There's a baby up in peds, I saw him have a tet spell, and I think I hear a murmur.”

“Mmm. Did peds call us for a consult?”

“Actually, no. They’re not doing anything about it—“

“So you want me to what?”

“If you could just go up and look at him—“

“Mm-hmm, not without a Peds consult.”

“Yeah, but—“

“I’m a busy man, L/N, and there are rules. Look, it’s not like I’m the Chief or something.”

Then he stocked off, leaving you frustrated. 

“Stupid rules.”

~~~

Eventually, you found a spot in the lobby to sit. Just waiting for the cops to show up.

“What’re you doing down here?” Natasha asked when she came across you.

“Just sitting here with my penis,” you responded. “What about you?”

“Hiding from Peter.” She sat beside you.

“I kissed Steve.”

“You kissed Steve.”

“In the elevator.”

“Oh, you kissed him in the elevator.”

“I was having a bad day. I am having a bad day.”

“Oh, so this is what you do on your bad days. Make out with Captain McDreamy.” You both stood up.

“Well, that, and you know, carrying around a penis just makes everything seem so shiny and happy.”

“Mmm. Clint said Mallory was wearing your shoes.”

“Yeah. It’s weird, right?”

“I think it’s weird that you care.”

“I think it’s weird.”

From outside, a car swerves. You and Natasha could hear it from inside, causing you to rush out. A man staggered out of the car, clothes soaked in blood, mainly around his crotch. He collapses. Other doctors and nurses followed you out and immediately began checking on him. You immediately knew that the guy was the owner of the penis you had been carrying around all day. The other doctors brought him into a trauma room. You followed, quickly calling security.

“So, what’ve we got?” Gamora asked as she entered.

“Take a look,” you responded.

“What?” She leaned closer. “Alright, let’s get him to OR 1. Y/N, you call the Chief and let him know we got the rapist.”

~~~

You and Natasha were in the OR with Gamora and Stark. They were working on the rapist.

“I saw Mallory,” you said, eyes on the operating table. “You can’t believe the beating that she took. And then to see this…”

“It's like that old saying, you should see the other guy,” Natasha said.

“Okay, kiddos, why are we not attempting to reattach the severed penis?” Dr. Stark asked.

“Teeth don’t slice, they tear. You can only reattach with a clean cut. If she wanted to slice him off with a knife…”

“Besides,” you continued for Natasha, “the digestive juices didn't leave much of the flesh to work with.”

“Right,” Gamora agreed, “so what do we do?”

“Sew him up minus a large part of the family jewels,” Natasha answered.

“And his outlook?”

“He'll be urinating out of a bag for a very, very long time,” Natasha added.

“Oh, too bad.”

“Shame.”

“I can’t imagine not having sex,�� Stark commented. “I think that I would just end my life if I couldn’t do a round every day.” Everyone looked at him. “What? It shouldn’t be that surprising.”

“No wonder, Dr. Potts keeps turning you down,” Gamora said.

“I’ll get her one day. Just you wait. I’m going to marry that woman if it’s the last thing I do.”

~~~

You met with the police after the surgery where they told you that they couldn’t send their crime scene guy down for hours. Annoyed, you searched for your intern friends. You found them in the empty corridor, sitting on the beds.

“So, the police say that they can’t send down the crack crime scene guy for hours,” you told them as you entered, sitting down beside Natasha. “So I have to spend the night with a penis. Peter, don’t say it.”

“Ahh, it was too easy anyway,” Peter responded.

“Who here feels like they have no idea what they’re doing?” Scott asked. Everyone of you, but Peter, raised a hand.

“I mean, are we supposed to be learning something?” Clint wondered. “Because I don’t feel like I’m learning anything.”

“Except how not to sleep,” Val added.

“It’s like there’s this wall,” Natasha said, “and the attending and the residents are over there, being surgeons, and we’re over here, being—“

“Suturing, code running, lab delivering penis-minders,” you grumbled.

“I hate being an intern,” Peter stated.

Gamora walked into the hallway, looking expectant. All of you interns quickly got up and took your leave. All the others had things to do, so you found yourself in front of the babies again. As you looked at the baby you’re so worried about, you noticed the parents. Taking a deep breath, you decided to go up to them.

“Hi,” you greeted with a soft smile.

“Hi,” the mother greeted back.

“Is he yours?” You nodded to the baby.

“Yeah,” the mother smiled.

“He’s adorable… Have you noticed anything that would concern you?”

“No,” the father responded. “Have you?”

“Earlier today I noticed him turning blue.”

“Blue?” The mother repeated.

“Yes. I checked him and I heard a murmur.”

“We were told that the murmur was benign,” the father stated.

“I don’t think it is. I think—“

“You are so out of line,” the Peds Intern interrupted.

“She says the murmur might not be benign,” the father said.

“I think we should do an echo, to check,” you suggested.

“This is your career,” the intern said, going to get her resident.

“There’s really no reason to get alarmed,” you told the parents.

“What’s the problem?” The resident asked, coming back with the intern.

“If our baby is sick, we want him treated,” the mother ordered. “Now.”

“Who said your baby was sick?”

“Her,” the Peds Intern answered, pointing to you. “The surgical intern who has no business on our service.”

“Who authorized you being here?”

“I was just,” you began, “actually—“

“I did,” Dr. Banner came up from behind you. “Could you excuse us for a second?” Dr. Banner took the resident to the side, but not far enough for you to not hear. “Are you messing with my intern, Dr. Keener?”

“No, sir,” the resident responded.

Dr. Banner turned back to you and the other intern. “Give me the chart.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” the intern said, giving up the chart, “I checked.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You can guarantee that he is fine, you are 100% sure.”

The intern looked hesitant.

“How sure are you?” The resident questioned.

“I don’t know,” the intern responded. “75%.”

“Not good enough,” Banner said. “He’s my patient now. That okay with you, Dr. K?”

“Absolutely,” the resident responded.

“He can take our patient?” The intern asked.

“He’s an attending.”

“Which means I can do whatever I want,” Banner replied before heading to the parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, I’m Dr. Banner, head of cardio. We’re going to run some tests and give you an answer within the hour. Excuse me.” He turned to you. “L/N.” He motioned for you to follow, which you quickly did. “I want an EKG, a chest x-ray, and an ECHO. I don’t have all day.”

“You’re a busy man.”

“I’m a busy man.”

You quickly ordered the tests then wandered the hospital more, since you weren’t allowed to do anything while you were watching the penis. After a little while, you found Dr. Banner again.

“Well?” You asked as you walked up to him.

“It’s a birth defect,” Dr. Banner replied. “Tetrology affirmed lower pulmonary artresia. You were right. I'm booking the OR for tomorrow.”

“Thank you for backing me up on this.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait, whoa. You were right. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again...going to the parents behind a doctor's back? Trying to steal a patient from another service? I will make your residency year hell on earth.”

He walked off and you smiled slightly to yourself. You made your way back to the babies, where you watched, from the other side of the window, Banner talk to the parents.

“His heart surgery is scheduled for the morning,” the Peds Intern told you. “I really did think I was right, you know.”

“I know. We almost never are. We're interns,” you responded. “We're not supposed to be right. And when we are, it's completely shocking.”

“Are you— I mean, being an intern, do you feel…”

“Terrified. 100% of the time.”

“Good, it’s not just me.”

“No.”

You decided, after finishing up with the babies, to go check on Mallory. When you arrived, you realized that Steve was still in there.

“How is she?” You asked, standing in the doorway.

“No change,” Steve answered with a sigh.

“Have you been here all night?”

“Mm-hmm. Yup… If I was in a comma, I’d want someone to be here. I know I would have people there. Having no one? Can’t imagine that.”

“I can.”

“Don’t you have any family?”

“I do. Just… I don’t think they’d come.”

Steve watched you carefully before speaking again. “So… we’re kissing but we’re not dating?”

“I knew that was going to come up.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the kissing. I’m all for the kissing. More kissing, I say.”

“I have no idea what that was about.”

“Is it going to happen again? Because if it is, I need to bring breath mints. Put a condom in my wallet.”

“Shut up now.” Steve laughed. “There was this baby up in the nursery. He's brand new. No one's neglected him or damaged him yet. How do we get from there to here? She's wearing my shoes and someone's beat the crap out of her, and she's got nobody.”

Suddenly, Mallory’s machine’s began beeping. You quickly hit an alarm on the wall.

“Her ICP’s double, get an OR!” Steve yelled. “Put her in for a craniotomy!”

~~~

You waited outside the OR, still watching over the stupid penis, while Steve operated on Mallory. You were nervous for her and felt bad that no one was there for her. Once the surgery was over, Steve exited the OR, walking past you. When he noticed you were there, he turned back.

“Hey,” he greeted. “I, uh, I had to leave her skull flap off, till the pressure in her brain goes down.”

“She’s not going to make it, is she?” You asked.

“She’s going to be fine.”

“If she ever wakes up.”

Steve nodded. “If she ever wakes up.” You nodded, biting your lip as you looked away. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Your pager went off. You looked down to see it was the Chief. “I’ve gotta go. That’s the Chief. Maybe I can finally get rid of this thing.” You lifted the cooler slightly.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled. “Good luck.”

~~~

“So here is where you put the signature, down here, the initials,” Fury’s assistant pointed out on a paper.

“Mmm,” you hummed with a nod, taking the paper and pen from her. “Okay.”

“It just says that the penis was never out of your sight.”

“Of course.” You sighed and handed over the paper. “There you go. One penis.” You glanced at the clock and realized that it was time for the baby’s surgery. “Am I all done here? I kinda want to go watch a surgery.”

“Sure.”

You tried to rush, but not rush, to the OR Dr. Banner was working in. When you arrived, you found a spot in the back.

“We'll be using a medium approach for a trans-ventricular repair with a right ventriculostomy,” Banner explained. “Let’s open him up. L/N!” He looked around for you.

“Yes, sir?” You replied.

“Go scrub in. When we've finished cracking the baby's chest, I'll let you hold the clamp.”

“Seriously?” You tried to contain your excitement.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

You rushed to scrubbed in. And, let’s just say, holding onto that clamp was a rush and just what you needed to help brighten your shift. After that, you went to watch the babies, Val, Clint, and Scott all joining you.

You let out a sigh. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “You guys can move into the house.”

“Yes! Yes!” The guys shouted.

“I can’t believe you caved!” Val laughed.

“I can’t believe it either,” you mumbled, trying to hide the smile.

~~~

You changed out of your scrubs and stared at the shoes in your locker. You couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it was that you had decided to wear those shoes today. With determination, you shut the locker on your shoes and went to the elevator. Steve was there waiting.

“So… it’s intense…” he started. “This thing I have for, ah, ferry boats… I mean.”

You smiled at him. “I’m so taking the stairs this time.” You walked off.

“No self-control,” he called after you. “It’s sad. Really.” He chuckled to himself as you continued to walk away. “Wow… this is so—“

“Weird. It’s weird,” Dr. Stark came up, ready to go too. “Like I said before, that look is bad news. And you—“

“Didn’t I already tell you to shut it Tony?”

“Fine.” Tony held his hands up. “But, seriously, don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Shuu Dark [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in front of the portal to the Demon World

Yui: ( Ahead of here lies the Demon World, right...? )

( I wonder if Shuu-san will be upset if I go there without permission? But... )

*HOOOOOOWL*

Yui: ...!

( I knew it...I have no other choice. Not only am I anxious by myself, I want to be by Shuu-san’s side. )

*Creaaaaak*

ー She enters the forest of the Demon World

Yui: ( This is...the Demon World... )

( It’s much darker than my own world...They said the lunar eclipse is currently ongoing, so could that be why? )

( I would be lying if I said this place doesn’t scare me, but Shuu-san should be somewhere in this world, right? )

( When I think of it that way...I’m no longer scared. )

( I won’t get anywhere by just standing still here, so I have to proceed. )

( I made the conscious decision to come here, so I shouldn’t hesitate, but move ahead. )

ー Yui starts walking

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to an abandoned building

Yui: Phew...

( I walked quite a bit, I’m beat. Is there anywhere I could rest...? )

( Ah, I can see a building in the distance...! )

( It looks dark and creepy, it should be fine to take a quick rest here, right? )

ー She enters the building

Yui: ( Now where could the castle Shuu-san and the others are at be? Is Ayato-kun doing okay? )

( I came here because I was feeling lonely by myself at the manor...But I feel like the situation has barely changed. )

...If only Shuu-san was with me...

*Thud*

Yui: ...!?

( I could hear a sound coming from the back just now...! Don’t tell me, someone still lives here!? )

ー Somebody approaches her

Yui: ( They’re coming this way!? W-What should I do...!? )

Shuu: ...Shut up.

Yui: Eh...?

Shuu-san!?

Shuu: I knew it was you. What are you doing here?

Yui: U-Uhm...

Shuu: Didn’t I tell you to watch the house? Why are you in the Demon World?

Yui: I’m sorry...

Shuu: Well, knowing you, I was convinced you would show up here sooner or later.

Yui: ( Uu... )

( However, I’m so glad I was able to meet Shuu-san. Almost as if that restless feeling from earlier was nothing but a lie. )

Shuu: Pwaah...

Yui: ( Shuu-san seems the same as always too... )

Uhm, why are you here, Shuu-san? I thought you said you were going to the castle...

Shuu: I’ve evacuated here.

Yui: Evacuated?

Shuu: This is my secret hideout. Ever since I was little, I would escape to this place whenever things got a little troublesome at home,

Yui: ( How very fitting of him... )

...This must be a place of memories to you.

Shuu: Memories, huh...?

...Say, you.

Yui: Yes?

ー Shuu steps closer and embraces her

*Rustle*

Yui: Wah...!

( H-He embraced me...!? )

U-Uhm, Shuu-san...?

Shuu: Haha...Why do you seem so surprised?

Let me suck your blood. It’d be ridiculous not to do anything now that you’ve come all the way down to the Demon World, no?

Yui: I didn’t come to have my blood sucked or anythiーー!

Shuu: Pipe down. Come on, expose your neck...

...Nn...

ー He bites her

Yui: Nn...!

Shuu: Nn...Phew...Nn...

Yui: ( He’s as forceful as ever... )

( However...How odd. For some reason, that puts me at ease right now... )

Shuu: ...You’re being surprisingly meek today.

Yui: That’s not...

( ...Actually, I might be. I’m relieved to have my blood sucked, and I even feel happy... )

Shuu: It’d be great if you could be like this all the time. Then I wouldn’t have to waste any unnecessary energy...Nn...

...Haah...

Yui: ( I wonder if it’s because I’ve been pushing myself this whole time. I feel as if my body feels more sluggish than usual today... )

Shuu-san...

Shuu: What? ...You’re tired already? I’ve barely had any though.

Yui: I’m sorry, but...

Shuu: ...Haah.

ー Shuu steps back

*Rustle*

Yui: ( He plopped down on the couch. ...I wonder if he intends to sleep here? )

Uhm...Shuu-san?

Shuu: What? 

Yui: Are you sure you shouldn’t return to the castle? That’s where everyone is, right?

Shuu: Why should I return? I told you earlier, didn’t I? I evacuated to this place.

Yui: However, unlike the castle protected by Karlheinz-san, this place might be dangerous, no...?

Shuu: So you were wandering around here, despite knowing the risks involved?

Yui: T-That’s true but...You guys said I’m not the one being targeted...

Shuu: ...Haah.

I want to avoid that castle at all costs. ...I feel like I can barely breathe in there. That’s why I’m here.

Yui: Still...If the wolves were to come after you guys again, it could end in another disaster, right?

Shuu: You’ve been awfully nosy this whole time...That isn’t something a human such as yourself should rack their brain over.

Or what...? You want to chase me out of here?

Yui: I never said that...

*Rustle*

Yui: Ah...!

Shuu: You can say it if that’s what you think. Tell me to leave, that is...

Yui: Shuu-sa...

Shuu: Nn...

*Smooch*

Shuu: You don’t want...us to be alone together?

Yui: ( ...The way he phrased that... )

Shuu: Come on, answer me. ...How do you feel?

Yui: That’s not what I meant. However...

Shuu: Then what’s the problem?

I’m gonna stay here a little longer. So stop spouting unnecessary crap.

*Thud*

Yui: ( ...Somehow Shuu-san seems a little different from usual today...? )

( I can’t quite pinpoint it, but I feel as if he’s acting off...Am I just imagining things? )

( I was told they may grow unstable during the lunar eclipse, so perhaps that explains it? I guess I shouldn’t let it bother me too much. )

Shuu: ...Che. I missed one song. It’s because you kept fussing about everything.

Yui: S-Sorry...What are you listening to today?

Shuu: You wouldn’t know even if I told you, right? Why not give it a listen? Here.

Yui: ( One of his earphones...I guess he doesn’t mind if we listen together? )

Thank you very much.

ー She puts in the earphone

Yui: ( ...What a beautiful violin performance. The melody sounds refined as well. )

What a lovely song. What is the title?

It’s called ‘Meditation’. (1) The best part has yet to come, so listen quietly.

Yui: O-Okay.

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( Shuu-san seems to enjoy it. )

( ...I would have never been able to imagine this in the past. That we’d one day sit next to each other and listen to music through the same set of earphones like this. )

( He can be oppressive and rarely ever holds back with his words but...When spending time with Shuu-san like this, Iーー )

Reiji: ーー Must be nice to be so carefree.

Yui: !

ー Reiji walks up to them

Yui R-Reiji-san!?

Reiji: I’ve found you, Shuu.

Shuu: ...It’s one interference after the other today.

Reiji: I figured you would be here. ...Although, I did not fathom to find her here as well.

What is this about, Shuu? Not only did you sneak out of the castle of your own accord, but you had the nerve to bring her here as well?

Yui: ( Bring me here...!? )

Reiji: If you brought her here despite knowing very well just how dangerous the Demon World is at present, then I must seriously doubt your sense of danger.

Yui: Y-You’ve got it wrong, Reiji-san! I’m the one who came here voluntarily...Shuu-san did nothing wrong at all!

Reiji: Save me the excuses. This man refuses to show any improvement because you keep doting on him like that.

Despite the circumstances, I doubt you are actually thinking things through? Therefore, you can easily pull these kind of farces. 

Shuu: ...My bad.

ー Shuu gets up and walks away

Reiji: Hold it, Shuu! Where are you going next?

Shuu: You’ll have no complaints if I return to the castle, right? I will, so let me listen to my music in peace already.

Oi, let’s go.

Yui: Yes...!

ー You follow after Shuu

Reiji: Halt! I am not done talking to you! Shuu!

...Good grief. That good-for-nothing never changes...

ー The scene shifts to the forest

Yui: Shuu-san, are you okay with this?

Shuu: With what?

Yui: Not telling Reiji-san the truth...If you don’t, he’ll have the wrong idea forever.

Shuu: I don’t mind. It’s not like he’d let me stay there even if I told him.

Yui: However, by acting so coldly, it’ll only make the situation worse...

Shuu: Shut up. Don’t make me repeat myself. If you want to come with me, then keep quiet.

Yui: ( ...He seems in a bad mood. I can’t say anything else. )

( However, I do think it would be for the best if they had a proper talk. )

( He might have actually had a valid reasoning for leaving the castle as well. If Reiji-san took the time to properly talk to him as well... )

Shuu: Oi, don’t stray away from my side. Do you want to become prey to hungry demons?

Yui: Ah, r-right!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room of the Sakamaki castle

Yui: Ayato-kun...Still hasn’t woken up, has he?

Reiji: Yes...His wounds will surely heal over time, however, we have no choice but to wait until he naturally regains consciousness.

Yui: I’m worried...

Shuu: His wounds have been treated. If we let him rest, he’ll wake up eventually, right?

Reiji: Shuu, once again you...

Shuu: He’s a Vampire so he should be fine, right? You’re all overreacting.

Yui: ( I’m really worried though, knowing he got hurt because he wanted to protect me... )

( I guess I can rest assured since Shuu-san said he’ll be fine? )

Reiji: Well...I suppose it is true that this is nothing you should stress yourself out over. Do not let it bother you too much.

Well then, it is time for dinner. If you will be residing here as well, be sure to follow the rules. Understood?

Yui: Y-Yes.

ー Reiji leaves the room

Yui: ( I’m worried about Ayato-kun, I suppose we have no other choice but to pray for his swift recovery and wait. )

Shuu-san, we should probably go as...

Shuu: You can go by yourself. I’m returning to my own room.

Yui: Eh...? But...

Shuu: I’m exhausted. Gonna sleep.

ー Shuu leaves as well

Yui: Ah, Shuu-san!

ー The scene shifts to the staircase

Yui: Shuu-san, please wait! You really aren’t going?

Shuu: I won’t.

Yui: ( ...Shuu-san really is acting off today. Almost as if... )

Shuu: ...? What?

Yui: Ah, no...

Shuu: If you have something on your mind, why not just spit it out? It’d be more troublesome if I have to listen to your ramblings later. (2)

Yui: ( I do have something to tell him, but he might get upset if I do... )

( However, it really does bother me, so I’ll just ask him straight-up. )

Well...This might just be my imagination but...

Shuu-san...Aren’t you sort of avoiding everyone?

Shuu: Everyone?

Yui: Like Reiji-san, and your other brothers too...

( That might be why he had retreated to his secret hideout after slipping out of the castle as well...? )

Shuu: ...

( D-Did I upset him after all...? )

Shuu: ...I haven’t just been sitting still either.

Yui: Eh...?

Shuu: I’ve been putting in proper thought.

ー Shuu walks away

Yui: Ah...

...

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Reiji: ...Is it just you?

Yui: Sorry...

Kanato: What happened to Shuu? The two of you were together, right?

Subaru: Bet he’s snoozin’ in his room again.

Laito: Well, I don’t see the problem? Instead we’ve got Bitch-chan here.

Reiji: Keep quiet at the dinner table. ...I suppose it cannot be helped. You should quickly take a seat as well.

Yui: Yes.

ー She sits down

Yui: ( ...I know that Shuu-san is acting distant because he has something on his mind. )

( However, I’m not quite sure...What exactly this ‘something’ is. )

( I want to ask him, but being too nosy isn’t good either, so I’ll just wait and see for now. )

( Will Shuu-san be okay though? I hope he doesn’t overthink things... )

( I’m obviously concerned about Ayato-kun and the wolves, but Shuu-san worries me as well... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The song was composed by Jules Massenet and most known for being featured in the opera ‘Thaïs’. 

(2) Literally he says that it would be more troublesome to have to listen to the compilation of all the different thoughts which she has piled up inside her mind, yet never spoke out loud. 

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Sakamaki Prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

[votederpycausemufins]

Chapter three for Surprisingly Familiar. It’s time to get to the real plot of this thing!

@petrichormeraki is the maker of the hermit Tommy au, @helleborusangel likes to read these and give me their rambles which are my beloved, and then check my tumblr for my masterpost of things I’ve made.

“Hey Paul, you’re done talking with X, right?” Bdubs asked as he noticed Paul walking by.

“Uh, yeah. He said he could let a guest in for a little bit because he needs to talk with Phil and Phil’d rather stay here instead of coming to the castle.”

“Yeah yeah, sounds great.” Bdubs sad, waving it off. “Hey, new question. Paul what the heck was that back there?!” He shouted, making a number of hermits look over.

“Hey, calm down, keep things off tap.” Paul tried to calm the hermit down, but it didn’t work that much.

“Oh this is Hermitcraft. We don’t do things on tap. Except Tommy but that’s different. Now, what were you doing back there?” And Bdubs pointed towards the room Paul and Phil had talked in. From the crowd, Jrum felt a little nervous, wondering if it was something he did, but the answer calmed the bot.

“Calm down. It was something Hoodie taught me. I’m sure Zedaph can back me up.”

Behind Bdubs, Zed stopped slurping from a coffee cup that was actually filled with a slushie. “Yeah, don’t worry he’s fine. No necromancy.”

“See? I just wanted a private conversation.” Paul replied, though Bdubs still looked grumpy.

“Alright, don’t make me call in Genny.” And Bdubs signalled that he was watching Paul before walking off. As he left, Scar took his place, seeming pretty confused.

“So, what’s with him?”

Paul sighed. “He’s not a fan of certain types of magic. I did a bit of necromancy for a time and there was someone else in the world who essentially became a dark lord, so Bdubs and some others became witch hunters.”

“Huh, That’s not something I would have guessed.” Scar said. “I mean, I’m a wizard and he’s been fine with me.”

Paul looked a little stunned. “Oh really? Didn’t realize. What style are you? My friend Hoodie is coming in for a quick visit. He’s ars based.”

Scar laughed a little. “Is that so? Haven’t seen many of those. I’ve got a mix. Vex magic and crystalline. Cub’s also a user of vex magic.”

Paul nodded. “That’s nice. How many magic users you got around here?”

The hermit mayor started to count on his fingers. “So there’s me and Cub. Pretty sure Stress has some. Cleo’s definitely got some magic. Grian of course. Uh, not sure if Joe does or not. I think Xisuma’s just-”

“Xel- er, Grian’s got some magic?”

“Yeah. And I guess the kids probably do too. Not sure right now.” Scar said, before looking Paul in the eye. “You're not going to freak out about Grian having magic, right? You’ve already got him upset which gets us upset.”

“Yeah, I know.” Paul sighed. “Just been through a lot. I get overly worried sometimes, and to me, I suddenly hear that ‘kid involved in murders is now causing wars in the world my friends are in.’ So yeah, sort of thought the worst.”

Scar inhaled sharply. “Okay, yeah. I can see what made you freak out. But Grian’s fine. He’s been through a lot and while technically he’s caused chaos, it’s never something we hate and normally we’re all in on it somehow.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, you should hear about the sewer cats.”

“Can’t wait to hear about it. Haven’t seen any letters about it.”

Scar nodded, before being just a little confused. “So, is there a reason you’re always using letters instead of other stuff? I’m sure some of the others could make you something that would work.”

Paul nodded. “I don’t doubt that they could for the most part. I just deal with a lot of factors and have always preferred the tried and true method. I’m all over the place and sometimes I can only really bring along paper.”

“What do you do?” Scar asked, interest piqued.

“Let’s see. Not sure if Phil’s told you, but he used to be king.” Scar nodded. It wasn’t Phil, but Grian had mentioned it. “Well, I’m one as well. Hoodie’s my right hand man and royal mage.”

“Ah, and you said he’s the one visiting?”

“Yeah. So I end up busy there a lot. I also spend a lot of my time visiting my kids so I’m going from world to world. Then, there’s also my wife and she’s in the world we raised the kids in which is essentially my main home.”

“And that’s what?”

“Uh, the same one I found Xe- sorry, Grian in ages ago.” Paul answered. “And I’ve got a job there that doesn’t really work with comms sometimes, but paper is easy enough to have on hand, especially enchanted paper.” And Paul took out a sheet of paper, handing it to Scar.

Scar took the paper and looked it over. As he moved it, he could see how the light caught the slightly physical aspect of the magic, much like how enchantments could be seen. “This looks good. You can hardly see the magic but I can tell it’s there. What all is on here?”

“Mostly stuff to get it to the right recipient and make it illegible if you’re trying to read it and it’s not for you.”

“Ah. That’s a commonly known one for ars mages, right?” Scar asked. “I haven’t heard much about them.”

Paul nodded. “Yeah. That’s due to the mage wars. They happened a number of years back before Hoodie was alive. He’s the main reason things are sort of getting back to normal for those guys.” Paull pulled out an old communicator which looked like it was being held together with duct tape and prayers. “He should be here pretty soon. He said he was only going to get a few books and amulets. And your admin said he would be able to get in.”

Almost as soon as Paul had said something, a message went out that someone new had joined the world. Xisuma sent a message that he would go to help the guest to Aque Town and from there Paul and Scar just waited for the two others to arrive. Xisuma was the first to arrive, gliding down on his elytra. The other person wore a royal purple hooded robe and seemed to arrive with the use of an ender pearl, but Scar didn’t see them use one.

Paul was the first to move, going over to the other person. “Hoodie! You made it!”

With the confirmation that this was the mage coming in, Scar followed along, a bit excited to meet someone new with magic. “Of course Sir. You did ask for my presence.”

Scar watched as Paul put an arm around Hoodie’s shoulder. “You don’t need to be so formal here. In fact, here. This is Scar. He’s the mayor, and based on the kind of place this is, I’d say he’s the local hedgewizard.”

“Ah, I see. It is nice to meet you. My name is Hoodie. I am King Soares’ right hand man and royal mage.”

Scar shook Hoodie’s hand, getting a slight shock. “It’s nice to meet you too. Paul already said I’m Scar. I’m guessing you’re a lightning mage or something?”

Hoodie took his hand back. “Ah, sorry about that. Yes I am. Or at least I specialize in it. Same as my father lest he’s recently changed his affinity.”

“Well I don’t know enough about your kind of magic to know what that really means.”

Paul walked away as the two magic users started to discuss their various forms of magic and wizardry. He needed to find Phil again since the main reason Hoodie was even there was so that Phil could get more of the enchanted paper. Not wanting to drag the mage away, Paul was instead going after his brother since he was the one insisting he wouldn’t take any of it without knowing for sure it was enchanted by Hoodie. After that, Hoodie would help out a bit around the world as repayment for Xisuma letting him on, then the two of them would head back home. At least, that was the plan.

. .

.

Drawing him away from the nest was almost laughably easy. Grian and Mumbo were both asleep and the chicken was theoretically trapped. At least trapped enough it wasn’t going to escape into the room itself. And then it could only see out the window and not into the room which was a big plus. Because of that, it was simple enough to have viridian magic surround the prison and really ensure the chicken wouldn’t be getting out.

“You know.” The person spoke in a whisper, making Grian twitch ever so slightly in his sleep, but not wake up. “You’re really making this far too easy. I thought it would be difficult with those guests of yours here, but it turns out everyone’s distracted by them. And they put you in such a perfect position. Let’s just move you to somewhere a bit more private, hmm?”

Grian of course didn’t wake up, but as the person left, a bit more magic appeared around Grian, and then a few moments later, he woke up with a start. Grian looked around, glad to see there was only Mumbo and a box in the corner. For a moment he was confused about it, but faint clucking from inside helped him figure out what it was. But something still felt off.

Grian went to shake Mumbo awake, but he hesitated a moment before actually waking him up. “Mumbo. Mumbo!” And Mumbo woke up from his name being shouted, looking around to see what was going on. “Mumbo, I think we’ve been up here too long. Something feels wrong.”

Mumbo pulled out his communicator to look at the time. “Oh dear! It does look like we have been here a while. It also looks like someone else has shown up.”

“Really?” Grian asked, pulling his own comm out to look at the message. “There’s no way this person would just happen to show up today of all days for no reason. What if they’re someone else with… I want to check on the kids.”

Mumbo stood up and then helped Grian to his feet. “Don’t worry. I’m sure if anything happened, the other hermits would be taking care of the boys. We can of course check on them, but you don’t want your panic to make them panic.”

Grian nodded and from there the two of them went back down to the ground floor, leaving Kokatori behind. Finding the new person was rather easy as he and Scar were both standing on the street of Aque Town facing each other. Scar was currently donning his wizard robe over his Aque Town outfit. In his hands, he held a number of crystals that Grian thought he was never going to see again.

The other person was wearing a purple robe and held a wand in one hand and a book with a yellow cover in the other. His hood had fallen back slightly, so Grian was able to see as the other person glanced over at him when he got closer. Normally the avian would assume it was just because he was getting close and was noticed, but there was some sort of emotion in the eyes that made Grian worry.

Both of them had their attention pulled away from each other as Scar moved, a yellow glow around him as he moved like he had a speed effect. When he reached the other person, Grian watched as the Scar’s netherite sword struck them, and then a ring of white magic appeared around them, acting as a shield against further attacks.

Realizing at this point that the two were fighting, Grian moved to try and stop them, but then out of nowhere, lightning struck the ground in front of him, making him stop. When Grian looked back up, both mages were looking over to him and then Scar called out. “Hey, don’t worry! We’re just doing some sparring! It was my idea!”

“Are you sure? Who even is this?”

“His name’s Hoodie. Royal mage of Paul it looks like.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Grian asked, concerned.

“Yeah, it just sounds like he was jumping to conclusions when he saw you. I’m sure it’s going to be fine if you talk to him again.”

Grian wasn’t completely convinced, but pretended enough for Scar to look back at Hoodie and then continue their sparring. Slowly, the avian started moving to where everyone else probably was, still in the party building. Mumbo followed him along, but eventually he passed Grian when the builder decided to actually watch the magic battle.

Scar seemed to mainly be using regular combat, but enhanced by his crystals which actually seemed to be doing something. Hoodie, on the other hand, was using his wand and casting a number of spells from his book. At one point, Grian watched the mage fumble a little bit to pull out a book with a green cover before casting a new spell that he hadn’t used yet.

Grian didn’t realize he was just standing there alone, and the magicians weren’t really paying much attention to him, but in the span of a few seconds, that all changed. To anyone watching, it would seem like it happened all at once, but really it was just one thing after the other.

Grian was barely aware of the space around him getting the slightest tint of green to it. As soon as that had happened, Hoodie turned away from Scar and instead faced Grian, pulling out a new red spell book. Scar was the next to react, still under the effects of his yellow crystal. He started to pull out a red crystal, accidentally pulling a pink one out at the same time. He threw them towards Grian just as Hoodie began to cast some magic aimed at Grian, but also in the direction of what would be in the path of the crystals.

Seeing multiple things coming his way, Grian started to panic, wings moving to act as a shield since he currently wasn’t holding one. As they moved, the tips of his wings started to change from red to purple, the shift in color working its way to the base of the wings. He couldn’t react fast enough to block everything, but the magic hit both of the crystals, making them shatter into dust. The pink and red dust didn’t completely stay their original colors, some of them charred by the magic attack that hit them, but each tiny piece seemed to glow with its own energy, and even with the, being broken so small, when the cluster hit Grian, there was enough force to make him crash to the ground.

For everyone not watching at that moment in time, they simply heard a large crack of thunder at the same time there was shattering glass, followed by screaming from Grian. Within a matter of seconds, people were racing out of the nearby building, there to see what had happened.

When people got out onto the street, Scar was yelling at Hoodie. “What was that?! Grian wasn’t involved! I thought I could actually- I can’t see why Bdubs actually trusted- I’m guessing he’s changed a lot since-”

“Please, I was just trying to defend myself. He was about to attack me. Didn’t you see it?”

“He was just watching us!”

“No. Your back was turned so you maybe didn’t see it.”

“I should have used a brown crystal too. What kind of spell was that?!” As they yelled, Xisuma was the first to get over to the pair to try and figure out what was going on, getting an answer from Scar. “That Paul guy’s mage just attacked Grian! If I hadn’t done something, it might have killed him!”

“What?” Paul asked, coming over. “Hoodie what just happened?”

The mage looked over to Paul, ignoring Scar and X. “Sir, the hedgewizard and I were simply having a duel to see each other's magic skills. As we battled, this avian mage came by and tried to stop us once. Of course Scar was able to prevent that the first time, but then the mage tried to cast a spell of attack. I was already using a spell to help my reaction time, as was the wizard here, so I began to cast a counterspell. At first I thought Scar was also about to assist me, but instead he seemed to try and stop my spell, causing our magic to collide. It seems to have still-” Hoodie tried to continue, but Paul held up a hand to stop him.

Paul then tried to speak himself, but then his shoulder was ground and he was whirled around by Phil. “Paul, what the fuck? Did you just have your wizard attack Grian?”

“What? No, of course I wouldn’t! It sounds like Grian was trying to attack Hoodie and he defended himself.”

“Yeah sure. Mate, just tell me the truth.”

“I’m just telling you what Hoodie told me. I know just as much as you do at this point other than what he told me.”

Again, the conversation was cut off by Mumbo speaking up, having joined the group. “Grian’s really hurt. His breathing is off and it looks like his wings were hurt enough for them to shift away. There’s also something else, but I can’t place it. Xisuma, can you look at him?”

Everyone moved out of the way for the admin to head towards Grian, but as soon as he took a step, everyone had their comms buzz with two messages. Xisuma peeked over the crowd to look where Grian had been a minute ago. He wasn’t currently lying there, but neither were any items that signified him having died and respawned. That could have been because he had nothing on him at the point, which was unlikely, but could have been what happened.

That being said, the shocked gasps from people who were looking at their comms didn’t assure Xisuma, so the admin pulled up the chat logs on his helmet. Instead of there being a death message for Grian, there were two messages of people leaving the world.

The_Grifter left the world Xelqua left the world.

[firstknightss]

GWAINCELOT ESSAY THREE???

[commentary voice] ah yes and this gwaincelot essay.... which turned into a fic was inspired by @nextstopparis and @little-ligi

GWAINE TEACHING LANCELOT HOW TO READ. and thats how they actually CONFESS.

imagine gwaine seeing lancelot trip up reading leon’s plan for the day, seeing him trying to understand it. and gwaines, hes a little in love. Hes. Hes a little hit with feelings for this Noble (tm) knight. So OF COURSE he CANT EMOTION and he tries to show his affection for lancelot without yknow being in ‘loVE’

he comes over with his swishy hair and bantery tone like “oooOhHh LANCELOT! Lancey! Hey! Hello! Can’t read leon’s goddamn awful handwriting huh?”

And Lancelots embarrassed and flushes red and gwaine thinks hes Fucked Up (and he really doesn’t want to fuck this up, this is the first time he’s actually felt emotions this deep for someone) and tries to fix it panickedly, like the Anxiety Clown He Is.

He keeps on saying sorry and apologising, and Lancelot, the EVER CALM KNIGHT GUY, goes “it’s fine, it’s okay. It’s nothing to do with you...” and then he hesitates. He HESITATES. “....it’s just that...” and then he BITES HIS LIP and gwaine thinks he might just faint there and then, “...i cant read.”

and now it hits him, gwaine, gwaine, who thought literacy was something trash and something he didn’t really need, realises how important it is. and so, yknow because hes kind of wrapped in those Emotions (tm), he pulls lancelot’s sleeve after practice, when they’re alone in the changing room. (and if lancelot wasn’t so tired and miserable, he would have easily seen gwaine BLUSH)

And he, shyly asks if lancelot wouldnt mind being tutored by him.

Now Lancelot is OVERJOYED, and he’s borderline CRYING because lancelot, poor old village boy lancelot who’d been kicked out of the knights of camelot, and had to become a MERCENARY and fight for masters who didn’t care for him, has NEVER HAD someone literally CARE about him so much. (Apart from Merlin. He loves merlin <3)

so now imagine lancelot waking up an hour early the next morning, and showing up into gwaine’s room. He knows gwaine literally doesnt sleep with a lock, so he just barges in, and starts shaking gwaine.

Now GWAINE sleeps like a Log (had so much shit going on irl, time to sleep it away) and when he opens his bleary eyes, seeing lancelot in one of his stupid v neck shirts over him, hes like “....h...helo??”

and lancelot’s all like. “We- werent YOU gonna give me reading lessons.” And gwaine nods, yawning (and in that moment lancelot thinks gwaine looks unimaginably cute, so cute that he wants to literally ruffle gwaine’s hair and run his hands through how silky and brown it is.)

THEN gwaine pulls on the dont care-ish mask, and makes his arms into a pillow under his head, as he leans against the wall behind his bed, in some kind of somewhat???flirty??? manner??? [i dont...i dont know what hes trying to do. On the other hand! Not does Lancelot :) ]

Lancelot, does not realise this is gwaine’s poor attempt at flirting - since he’s seen gwaine ACTUALLY flirting and this is like. Nothing. And its also poorly executed. Which is NOTHING like gwaine.

So he pulls gwaine’s arm, and half hauls him out of bed.

As gwaine’s head crashes into lancelot’s stomach, he can smell lancelot’s clothes. They smell of flowers, and cotton and everything so natural and gwaine, who literally smells of wine, and wood and Tavern. (And aftershave, or the 500AD equivalent)

[see here, see im trying to bring themes of dionysis okay. OkayyyyyyyyY. yours truly likes looking at greek mythology. And both these two complete dionysis]

Gwaine, in his sleepy stupor, nestles his head on Lancelot’s hip, who gives a sigh and stands there. One hand clutching gwaine’s, leaving the other free.....

....to rake through his soft, flowy brown hair. And twirl his fingers through its waves, and Gwaine cuddles in further.

And since Lancelot left the door open, Leon (the other bitch who wakes up at 4am to do idk nothing) sees them two...like that, illuminated by the SUNLIGHT behind them, and smiles a little.

And then he trips over the stairs, the moment is lost.

Gwaine and Lancelot pull away at the same time, and gwaine’s face turns back to “ha ha im a Jerk (tm)” and if he wasnt too busy trying to hide how flustered he was, he’d see Lancelot looking at him the way he used to look at GWEN.

They both blink and look at each other, understandingly, neither of them to speak of this again.

And then Gwaine drags himself out of bed, and Lancelot raises his eyebrows as he watches him (totally not checking him out) haul out a book from his cupboard.

Gwaine’s too sleepy for this, he keeps yawning and rubbing his eyes (looking like a cat, Lancelot notes) and Lancelot takes a deep breath, his eyes understanding.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Lancelot, I love..” he bites his tongue, cursing his half asleep mind “..doing this, and love hanging out with you...I just cant stay up this early.”

Reading lessons, from now on, are at 1:30am-whenever Gwaine and Lancelot stop rambling about Odysseus and Circe and Telemachus

[i dont know any other ancient books apart from like. Ancient greek/Roman ones. So i guess. Its not historically accurate,,,,BUUIT this is a fanfic for a pair who had like no scenes together SO i think i can take some ✨creative liberties✨]

Lancelot has heard of the journey of Aneas from travelling bards, singing songs in his native old english. Gwaine’s eyes are quick at latin, and he learnt the flaws of Romulus and Remus in his pure latin. Gwaine’s a good teacher, and lancelot is a quick study, and it’s not long before they’re arguing over which Goddess caused the most harm in the Illiad.

Gwaine’s never met someone who he could reveal that he loved reading to, he loved doing.

Lancelot’s never met someone who he could tell he couldn’t read, and ask if they could teach him, love learning.

They make it work.

The other knights notice, of course they notice. Percival notices how Lancelot stumbles into the Gwaine’s room at night, bright eyed. Elyan notices Lancelot and Gwaine’s voices from Gwaine’s room opposite him; sometimes slow, Gwaine speaking slowly and Lancelot following; sometimes heated and passionate.

(They’re arguing. They’re arguing about how to pronounce Minerva)

Merlin finds the two, in the early hours of the morning - when the birds are figuring what song they sing today - on Gwaine’s bed.

Gwaine leaned against the bedframe, his trousered legs splayed over the sheets. Loosely braided, long brown hair fell over his closed eyelids, his mouth in a small smile.

And Merlin follows his arm draped over Lancelot, snuggled beside him, his head on his broad shoulder, every breath of wind pushing against curly black hair, making it almost /bounce/. His eyes are covered by the other man’s hair, and he looks...content. More content than Merlin has ever seen him.

He slips out as quietly as he came in, and smirks, hes gotta tell arthur they finally got their shit together oh GOD

Its no surprise to anyone but them, when Arthur pulls Lancelot out of training, and into his chambers.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone Lancelot.” He starts, his face geniune, his voice giving away hints of relief. (He thought he was never going to see his knight smile again after all the ordeals that had happened to him)

“Oh...” Lancelot’s heart sinks, “...how did you find out, Sire?”

Arthur blinks, taking in the change of mood in Lancelot, maybe it wasn’t anything important, maybe they were trying to keep it casual, hell they didnt want the king knowing.

“I- uh, I just noticed...” Goddamnit Merlin, and Goddamn his need to tell him everything he saw. (Merlin had advised him not to do this, as they sat on his bed after a long night. This was really his fault.)

Lancelot pales, and he places his hands down on the table beside him, palms slapping stone as he did so.

“Well, I guess I should tell you the whole truth then,” his voice is quiet, and Arthur steps closer, “Sire I am not of Noble birth, and was born in a village - as you know.”

Arthur nods, his arms crossed, but his Kingly Bravado fell away at the sight of his knight, and one of his closest friends, being this vulnerable.

“Yes I know, but what does this ha-“

“And we children in the village we-“ he falters, “-we were never taught to read.”

“Yes, no I understand, I-“ he pauses, Lancelot’s words hitting him a bit too late, this was about literacy?

This, this whole conversation was about literacy?

Not being gay?

Merlin was going to have a field day

“Sire?”

“I understand Lancelot, and is this why you feel a little out of place with the other knights?” He carries it on, with a smile, he has a few questions to ask merlin.

“Yes, and that’s why I asked Gwaine to tutor me from time to time, although, the sessions carry through late into the night, which may have been affecting my performance at practice. I’ll have you know that this is a temporary th-“

“It’s fine Lancelot,” Arthur places a hand on his shoulder, “You are still exceptional at practice,”

“Thank you Sire,” Lancelot twinkles.

✨

“Theyre, theyre not together?” Merlin cant stop laughing, tears streaming down his face, “theyre not TOGETHER?? oh my God arthur what did you DO”

They sit together on Arthur’s bed, drinking wine from stemless cups together, with Arthur recounting the events of the day; red faced.

“I mean, it was your idea Merlin.”

“I just saw them, and I assumed...I didnt...I didnt think youd ASK them.”

“What do you think I’d do then?? Let them be on their merry way.”

“Yes!”

✨

“Do you like me?” Gwaine asks, unexpectedly, one night, the moon vibrant against the loud sea.

“You’re...tolerable...” Lancelot says, a smile tugging at his lips, as the silver moonlight falls against his hair, a halo around him.

✨

The knights give them the look every morning, as the two of them stumbled out of the same room, more frequently than ever.

Sometimes Lancelot would throw on Gwaine’s shirt, when he’d crumpled his own beyond repair. Sometimes Gwaine would put some of Lancelot’s hair oil on, when his hair was frizzy.

They gave each other knowing looks when Gwaine and Lancelot started whispering and giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls.

✨

And then Stupid gwaine had to go get fucking stabbed, and their delicate dance was like trying to waltz through a minefield.

Lancelot clutches onto Gwaine’s arm as Merlin feels his forehead with shaking hands.

“He’s burning up.”

“Infection...?” Lancelot sounds broken, and nods, fumbling with his pack to find some bandages.

It was just a simple quest; a save the day, get the girl, do various harmless shenanigans type of quest.

He’d half expected Gwaine to get the girl, and he cant help but give out a half choked laugh. Gwaine had no idea what hit him when she turned out to be the evil one all along.

He tries to forget that Gwaine showed no interest in her, he tries to forget that Gwaine’s been less frequent at the Tavern, he tries to forget that he hasn’t seen Gwaine with anyone since months now.

Gwaine, his beautiful Gwaine was lying on his lap, hot red blood rushing from his side, staining his polished chainmail with dark, sticky blood.

He’s been out for nearly an hour now, and Lancelot remembers carrying him, through the entire forest, forgetting his sword and his helmet and just grabbing Gwaine and getting the shit out of there.

Gwaine’s lack of self preservation was really rubbing off on Lancelot nowadays.

Merlin watches as Lancelot holds back tears, his own eyes stinging. Gwaine can’t die like this, he can’t die like this....

“hælan beorn adl”

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, and Lancelot could feel warmth coming back into the fingers he was grabbing.

He was coming back.

And then the weight of everything hits him.

He was in Fucking Love.

✨

“Hey.” Gwaine’s voice is rough from disuse, but Lancelot nearly sobs when he hears the voice.

“Don’t fucking do that to me again, amor meus.” He puts his head down on Gwaine’s chest; finding the hammering of his heart calming.

He shimmies onto Merlin’s bed, which Gwaine had been lying in for the past few days.

“Did you mean, ami meus?” Gwaine sounds tired, too tired to be awake.

“Huh? Did i say something else?” Lancelot decides to play dumb, a sparkle in his eyes,

“I thought I heard amor meus,” Gwaine pushes his nose into Lancelot’s hair, taking in the wonderful smell of coconut.

“Well then, at least your hearing’s okay, amor meus.”

Gwaine gulped, and was sure Lancelot could hear his loud swallow.

“Lancelot, I hope this isnt a big joke with me teachin you latin and all,” Gwaine’s voice is a little wobbly from the slee deprivation and the magic and the pain numbers, “because I’ll have you know that I really love you, and I cant go on like this any longer,”

“Its okay Gwaine, I learnt latin from the man I love, of course it’s not a joke.”

“The man you love? Who’s tha-“

Realisation hits him like a brick.

Oh.

Oh.

“Me?” His voice cracks, and Lancelot looks up, a smirk on his face.

“Of course dumbass.”

“Like I’m meant to know that,” Gwaine tries to keep his dont care-ish aura, but they both know he’s too exhausted to keep that up.

“mmm?”

Gwaine kisses him on the nose, and he wraps himself around him.

And thats how Merlin finds them later that day, eyes blinking as he stood there.

✨

“I’m glad you’ve found someone, Lancelot.” Arthur coughs.

“Is that what that whole talk was about???”

“Answer the question.” His words sound harsh, but he’s barely hiding a smile.

“I’m glad too, I’m Glad I found Gwaine too.” Lancelot blushes, turning to gwaine.

“Why are you asking anyway, Princess?”

“Oh just, making sure this time.”

[scoopsgf]

can i get a good night’s sleep? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep?!

or: five times peter parker doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

my contribution to the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! this is for @snarky-drabbles - I hope you enjoy it! 

1. 

The first time is actually just the first in a while. Peter’s had problems sleeping ever since he was a little kid; it was just one issue of many that stacked up on top of each other, resulting in his personal belief that he must be the most difficult kid to look after on the planet.

Asthma meant hundreds of dollars spent on inhalers, covering what their shitty insurance didn’t. His poor eyesight was the same story and the bullies that used to break his glasses had never helped. But it wasn’t just physical crap, of course: he’s had anxiety for as long as he can remember.

There are cute side-effects like panic attacks and nausea, not to mention the constant sense of impending doom he’s been nursing since… well, birth, probably. When he was younger he’d worry about whether or not the taxi driver had enough gas in his car to get them where they needed to go, or maybe Ben would get shot at work (ironically enough, he’d never worried that Ben would get shot off-duty, and there is a teeny superstitious sliver of him that believes maybe if he had considered the possibility it never would have happened, like some kind of a reverse jinx or something).

One of the other cute things that comes along with it is insomnia.

So here he is, pacing in his kitchen at three in the morning because May isn’t home yet.

Her shift ended at two. She’s usually back within a half hour considering the hospital isn’t far, hence his agitation.

He’s tried calling and texting to no avail, and he keeps telling himself that everything is fine, that she probably just got held up; meanwhile his subconscious provides a great slideshow of mental images that speak to the opposite—her getting kidnapped because somehow someone links her to Spider-Man, her getting hit with a car, mugged, shot, slipping on black ice—and that’s actually not far-fetched considering it’s January, there’s a lot of it, and so he pulls out his phone and types, You didn’t slip on black ice and die did you? to May.

No little dots appear to signify that she’s typing. The message doesn’t even change from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’.

She has her read receipts on. She’s promised him. There’s no reason she’d change that, right? But maybe she accidentally switched them off when she was scrolling through her settings.

He calls her.

“Hi, this is May Parker, I’m unavailable at the moment but if you leave me a message I’ll get back to you as soon as—”

Peter hangs up with a dissatisfied grunt.

It’s only then that he realises, to his great dismay, that he’s paced all the way onto the ceiling.

In his shock he loses concentration and falls. “Ow, fuck.” He pulls his aching knee to his chest. It’ll no doubt be bruised soon. “God has forsaken me.”

He picks up his now cracked phone and texts Ned:

I just fell off the ceiling at 3 AM in the morning

Don’t ask me what I was doing on it

Every bone in my body is broken :(

No reply comes which is pretty typical; Ned probably passed out in front of his PC like, hours ago. Peter can picture it: the light of his computer screen casting a blue glow over everything in the room, his head probably tucked into his arms to muffle his snores (and there’s also probably a bowl of stale popcorn spilled across his floor at this point), his creepy mother lurking in the doorway—or worse, trying to find out how to snoop through his laptop while he’s out of it.

Peter could totally go swing down there and help the guy out. It would be something to do anyway.

But no. The door is too far. His suit… too much work. It’s definitely better to just stay here curled up under the table like a little turtle.

But wait—a blanket.

Is it worth the effort? Probably. Peter scans his immediate surroundings and, oh boy, Lady Fate is actually on his side tonight because there’s a gigantic purple fluffy one hanging off the couch and it only takes a little bit of physical exertion to yank it down and wrap it around his body.

He burrows deeper into it and scrolls through Instagram. MJ posted a picture of a banana today. Literally like, just a banana. No caption, no explanation on her story, nothing.

Peter double taps it and comments: i hope u asked before u took his jacket

No like. No reply. That makes sense. It is three in the fucking morning, after all.

No. Three thirty. It’s been an hour and a half.

What had May said once? That it was okay to call someone if she was two hours late?

Peter tries texting and calling one more time and then just sits there, staring at his home screen and watching the minutes pass. At exactly four AM after much deliberation and stomach churning, he calls someone else.

Three rings later: “I’m in Vienna right now so this better be good.”

Peter feels even more nauseous than before. “Oh,” he says. “I guess—never mind, then. Sorry.”

“Wait, wait, that was just for show and I’m greatly intrigued as to why you’re calling me so… early? Late? Anyway I’m out of the conference room now so lay it on me.”

Against his will, Peter’s lip quirks up. “Um, it’s kind of stupid—”

“Nothing is ever stupid,” Tony says. “Especially when it’s coming from the brain of a kid with an intelligence quotient of 260.”

He feels his cheeks heat up and then it all just comes tumbling out, “It’s really late and May was supposed to be off at two and home by two-thirty, but she’s not and I don’t know what to do. I tried calling and texting but she’s not replying and I know that I’m probably just building it up in my head but I can’t help freaking out because like, what if she got stabbed or slipped on black ice or—”

“Hey Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

Tony’s voice has softened immeasurably. Something uncoils in Peter’s stomach. He flops onto his side and closes his eyes. “I’m breathing.”

“That’s good, kiddo. Now just hang on a sec, I’m gonna call the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“Well she works there, right?”

“...Yeah.”

“And you haven’t tried calling them yet, correct?”

“...Correct.”

“Ergo,” Tony says.

“But I—”

“Yeah?”

Peter bites his lip and then he just blurts it: “I don’t want you to hang up.”

He feels like such a child but the thought of losing connection with Tony is literally making his heart palpitate and his palms sweat. He needs someone. He needs an adult.

“Well lucky for us both I have two phones.”

Peter cracks an eye. “You what?”

“I’m Tony Stark, don’t question it. Hang on, let me just—hello, hi, um, I need this room. No, it can’t wait. Yes the whole room. Yes locked. I don’t know, five minutes? Ten? An hour? No, I’m not joking. Thank you. Thanks. Yeah. Okay. Bye now.” Something slams shut—the door to the office Tony just stole, probably. “Okay, just a sec, I have the number for the reception desk she works at in my phone.”

Peter, for some reason, feels immeasurably comforted by that. He sits in silence gnawing on his lip while Tony has a somewhat muffled conversation he can’t hear the other side of. Then, “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Okay, well, they said she’s covering for someone and can’t get to the phone because a baby had to have emergency surgery so she’s literally in the OR as we speak. Pretty badass and not bad as far as excuses go. Now that you know she’s fine and not dead by ice, how about you get some shut-eye, okay kid?”

Peter swallows. “Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Tony.”

“No Mr. Stark this time, huh?”

“It’s too late for formalities.”

“I see,” Tony replies. “Sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

The line goes dead. Peter, slightly relieved but not fully consoled, rolls over to face the door. He doesn’t sleep at all that night and is still there when May comes home at six in the morning with bagels and apologies.

—

2. 

The anniversary of Ben’s death is always super weird.

This time it takes him a few minutes to remember what day it is: he’s in the middle of brushing his teeth and then it hits him like a train: oh, it’s been three years.

Then comes May. She usually tries to cook something for breakfast but like always it burns. He leaves the bathroom to the sound of the smoke alarm and fans a cookie sheet at the screeching little device while she swears up and down in Italian.

“It’s okay, May, really—”

“No, it’s not!” She snaps, tossing a batch of blackened cinnamon rolls into the trash. “I just want this day to be easy for you!”

Peter goes over to her and, after kicking the oven door shut with his foot, pulls her into his arms. May starts to cry even though she tries not to; sniffles turn into barely stifled sobs. He knows that it’s harder for her than it is for him. Ben was her husband and they’d been married for thirteen years when he died. Sometimes he still catches her looking to see if he’s laughing too when they watch TV, only to find an empty recliner.

“It’s okay for it to be a bad day,” he whispers. “You know that, right? I mean, I love you to pieces, May, but I don’t wanna see you bending over backwards for me.”

“But that’s my job, doofus.”

Peter pulls back. He’s an inch taller than her now. “No it’s not. We take care of each other, okay?”

Then comes school. Ned usually hovers nervously like an agitated gnat, too afraid to say anything, not sure if he should act normal or be sad in solidarity, which means it’s kind of Peter’s job to set the tone. As he’s putting his combination in for his locker he asks, “So did you beat that level of Obra Dinn last night?”

Ned, shoulders slumping with relief, starts to ramble on about how hard it was to do and how it took him like, thirty whole tries.

They go to class. Peter zones out. He doesn’t bother making more web fluid or ditching and he gets so inside his own head that Coach Wilson compliments him again during gym class. Peter deliberately slows down after that, even if it’s kind of irritating; being physically active actually helps work off his anger.

Because that’s what he is more than anything else: angry. At the mugger, yeah, but at himself more than anything else. It was his fault that they were out that night, anyway. It’s a wonder that May doesn’t hate his fucking guts.

When school is up Peter comes home to an empty house. He thinks about going on patrol but doesn’t really feel up to it, and then he feels bad for not wanting to do it because like, what if someone is dying?

So he puts on the suit and swings from rooftop to rooftop, but there’s no action today. Peter eventually settles on a fire escape with a burrito. A stray cat hops up after a while and, despite his matted fur and crazy eyes, Peter decides he has a kind of quiet dignity about him and names him Charles.

“Do you like beef?” He asks, holding some out for Charles to sniff. The cat yowls and, without any warning other than that, nearly chomps Peter’s fingers off to get the meat.

“Ow, jeez!” Peter shakes his wrist. “I was literally giving it to you for free, but go off I guess.”

Charles blinks his big brown marble eyes and then literally jumps off the fucking ledge. Peter leans over and watches him scamper across the street, somehow not getting hit by any traffic. Sometimes he thinks his spidey sense is more like feline sense in that way: he could probably manage the same thing with his eyes closed.

After a while the sun sets and all of the streetlights turn on. Peter does another patrol around the immediate vicinity but again, nothing. He stays out anyway though because he’d rather do his Chemistry homework behind a dumpster than sit alone in the apartment with nothing but the quiet for company. At least out and about there are sewer rats and mangy dogs and shady characters who actually just turn out to be skateboarders.

Peter is almost done with his assignment when the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He looks up and finds Iron Man himself coming in for a landing. The suit drops with a barely audible clunk; it’s Mark 54, the sleekest and most lightweight model yet.

“Oh thank God,” says Tony’s voice, “you’re not dead.”

Peter frowns even though Tony can’t see it. “No,” he agrees slowly. “Why would I be dead? What are you doing here?”

“Well, your aunt called me in a panic at around four when she got home and you weren’t there, and then I checked the scanners and saw that you’d been here, completely stationary, for like five whole hours—needless to say I had a little bit of a heart attack and here I am, relieved and also mildly infuriated. Care to explain, young padawan?”

Peter opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. Opens it again and, “It’s four AM?”

“Four fifteen,” Tony corrects.

“I didn’t even—I didn’t know! Shit, May’s totally gonna kill me, I might as well be dead—”

“Woah woah woah,” the faceplate lifts, “calm down, okay? No one is mad. Just, uh, concerned, I promise.”

Peter is still frantically packing up his school supplies and not really listening. He only stops when Tony gently touches him by lightly gripping his elbow. “Kid?”

Peter stares down at the older man’s hand. Behind the mask his eyes start to burn. “Ben died.”

“Pardon?”

“Ben died,” he repeats louder. “In this alley. Two years ago.”

All at once Tony’s face falls. He moves to sit by Peter on the grimy floor of the alley while the suit hovers nearby, a hollow shell, just the way Peter feels now.

“Kid,” Tony says, “take off the mask.”

“What? No, I’m in public—”

“No one’s around,” Tony says. “Just take it off, okay?”

Peter does, reluctantly peeling it back to reveal his tear-stained cheeks. Tony stares for a second and then, almost hesitantly, he wraps his arms around Peter. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I—” he chokes. “I’m just so tired. I’m tired of having to watch May be strong for me when I can’t be strong back, and I’m tired of Ben not being around. I miss him and it—it’s not fair.”

“Of course it’s not. It’s never fair. That’s why it hurts, kiddo. You’ve got all this love and no place to put it.”

Peter bites his lip to stop it from quivering and looks away, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I just feel pathetic.”

“Don’t,” Tony says firmly. “I felt the same way after my mom died and it… In some ways I don’t think the feeling ever actually went away, but uh, take it from someone who’s had a lot more time to process: no one is expecting anything from you, okay? And I can guarantee there’s not a single human that thinks two years is long enough to be perfectly fine again. You’re allowed to still be upset about this.”

And Peter is. He’s really, really fucking upset about it and so tired of holding it in. Tony pulls him against his chest when Peter starts to cry and it sort of seems like he’ll never be able to stop. There’s just so much, so much guilt and pain and all kinds of other bullshit that he refuses to lay on May.

So he lays it on Tony. And it’s surprisingly not horrible or awkward or even the end of the world.

“You good?” the older man asks, when Peter finally sobers up enough to wipe his cheeks dry and take a few steadying breaths.

“Yeah,” he says, voice ragged and awful-sounding. “Um, sorry. For freaking you and May out and ruining your shirt, I mean.”

“You know there’s this really snazzy invention called a washing machine—”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Tony laughs and it makes Peter laugh too, and the tension between them just sort of dissipates. “Speaking of clothes,” Tony claps his hands together, “you got any to wear in that backpack?”

“Uh, jeans and a hoodie?”

“Fantastic, incredible. Throw them on, I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

“But what if someone sees?!”

“Let ’em. I’ll have Pep release a statement claiming you as my personal assistant or head intern or something.”

“That’s totally unrealistic.”

“Do I care? No. Just—okay? Up and at ’em, make haste, come on. What do you feel like, pancakes or waffles?”

They bicker about which is better the entire way to the little diner Tony choses, and Peter comes home full an hour later. May is fast asleep at the kitchen table. He kisses her forehead and starts on breakfast for her.

—

3. 

He’s thirty minutes into helping MJ study for her AP French test when she finally gets a question wrong. “‘Il n'est pas clair que’?” Peter queries, holding up the flash card.

“‘It’s not certain that’?”

He makes a pitying noise. “Close. ‘It’s not clear that’.”

“What’s not clear, exactly? That if I see one more word in French I’m gonna blow my brains out?”

Peter snorts. “No, actually it says more clarification is required on how much you like your boyfriend. Suggestions to improve that include: a hug, a kiss, both—”

“Neither?”

He pouts. “Mean.”

MJ rolls her eyes, but she kisses him first. She tastes like the Twizzlers they’ve been eating and her hands are in his hair and she laughs when he presses his lips to her cheeks and nose and forehead.

They somehow end up in an incredibly compromising position. “You know,” MJ muses, “I don’t think I’ve been studying the right kind of French.”

Peter, hovering over her (oops), nods in agreement. “This kind is definitely way better.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and he’s so consumed with this: her and him and the smell of her jasmine shampoo—that he almost doesn’t hear it.

Almost.

Peter rips away abruptly. “What was that?”

She groans. “God, you’re such a dog sometimes.”

He ignores her, sitting alert with his eyes narrowed at the window and, sure enough, there it is again: a faint, blood-curdling scream. “Someone’s being attacked or something. Maybe four blocks away tops.”

MJ squints. “Don’t tell me you can echolocate.”

“I—” Peter’s mouth snaps shut and then opens again. “I actually don’t know. Anyway, I gotta go.”

He presses a quick kiss to her cheek, throws on his jacket, and quickly ducks out her fire escape (which happens to be the same way that he came in). He slips the mask on and tosses his hood up; it’s raining in heavy, icy sheets and Peter is drenched within seconds of swinging. He remembers the first time he’d gone out during a storm; the webbing he’d made hadn’t held up because the chemical formula hadn’t accounted for the massive amounts of water-based reaction, so the biocables had evaporated as they left his shooters. Thankfully he hadn’t jumped first that day, otherwise he would be a Peter Pancake.

Another scream sounds. Peter follows it and winds up latched onto the side of a two-story brick building. There’s an incredibly dark alley below, but a quick flash of lightning tells him everything he needs to know: one man is trying to wrestle a woman down, while another is rifling through her purse. He’s also holding a gun.

“Oh, cute,” he mutters sarcastically.

Peter tries to time it right: he takes aim and shoots a web right at the weapon with the next bout of lightning, but to his immense misfortune, the armed mugger had already seen him and was aiming right back. The bullet hits Peter in the side.

“Ow,” he says, “that was uncalled for.”

He drops. His side is throbbing and hot but he ignores it in favour of disarming the guy who shot him. It’s a brief struggle but Peter ends up whacking the gun out of his hand and webbing it to the wall opposite. Then he knocks the guy out with a solid upper cross to the temple.

Peter rounds. The assailant has already fled, leaving the woman shivering but relatively unharmed.

“You okay, ma’am?” he asks.

“Me? That guy shot you!”

Peter looks down at his side which is now stained with blood. “Oh, yeah.”

He’d actually forgotten for half a second. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he’s starting to really feel it: a burning sensation in his abdomen, an aching that pulses from his stomach to his chest. Ah. Wonderful.

A little dazed, he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. Super healing. Are you good? You need me to call you a cab?”

“What? No, um—the police station is like, down the block, I can go get them.”

“Are you sure? Because I can totally do that—”

“I can handle myself,” she says sharply, bending down to pick up her purse and the discarded items within. “It’s just… there were two of them and there was a gun and—”

“I get it,” Peter says, his hand pressing harder into his side as the world grows blurrier around the edges. “You really don’t want me to at least walk you down?”

“I’ll take a taxi,” she says. “You just, um, get yourself fixed up, okay? And thanks.”

“Yeah, sure, anytime! But, y’know, preferably never again,” Peter says, and proceeds to swing away.

—

Tony doesn’t expect to get woken up at two AM after only just falling asleep five minutes before, but such is life; FRIDAY’s voice bleeds through the speakers above to inform him that Spider-Man is currently rifling through the Med-Bay and bleeding from a wound on his side.

Pepper looks at him. “You heard that too, right? That was real?”

“It was real.”

They both scramble out of bed. Tony takes the lead, throwing on his jacket as he runs toward the elevator. It’s times like these when every second stretches out into an eternity; it takes maybe five of them to get from their floor to the Med-Bay, but it feels like forever.

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

“I know, right?” Peter glances up. “Hey, Pepper.”

“Peter,” she returns. “Do you mind if I wash my hands and take a look at that?”

“If you want. It’s kinda gross, though.”

“Believe me, I’ve seen worse.”

Through this exchange Tony was already washing up, and now he dons a pair of gloves and sits on the rolling stool. “Looks like it’s through and through,” he tells Pep over his shoulder. “Could you grab a couple suture kits and, uh, the stuff?”

Pepper makes a face. “The stuff?”

“You know,” Tony says, “The Good Stuff.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, that stuff.”

Tony feels around the area. “Do you know what kind of gun was used?”

“Looked like your standard nine mil,” Peter replies. His voice is growing a little slurred.

That’s good though, about the gun. Means there’s probably not any bullet fragments to worry about. Tony grabs a load of gauze and presses it against the wound. He checks Peter’s pulse while he’s at it and finds that it’s slowed considerably. “We’re gonna have to get you some blood, too. A neg, right?”

“Yuppers.”

Tony excuses that because after all, the kid is bleeding out on a table. Said kid actually starts to swing his legs back and forth and, yeah, that’s not gonna fly. “Do me a favour and lay back? I’m gonna put this towel right under you for now.”

Peter doesn’t have any arguments, or if he does, he doesn’t vocalise them. Pepper comes back in with the kits and drugs and, because she’s just smarter than him like that, bags of blood.

Tony grabs the vials first and loads up a syringe. Peter is pretty numb to all of it until the needle goes in. Then he frowns. “Why are you injecting me with alien blood?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s not alien blood, it’s a pain killer. A serious one at that, so you’re probably gonna feel a little out of it for a while, okay?”

Peter frowns. “Is it for Steve?”

Tony tenses, but it’s only for a second. “Yes,” he says, somewhat tightly.

“Ugh. What a turd, Mr. Stark. You’re giving me turd vitamins!” Tony scoffs while Pepper laughs. Peter notices. “See? She thinks I’m funny.”

“You’re not helping me here,” Tony says to her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here, have some thread.”

Tony sighs. “Just stay still for me, okay?”

Peter does. Pepper passes him various supplies and they work together to sew up both ends of the gunshot wound. By the time they’re done, Peter hasn’t moved once, but his eyes are open and he’s frowning.

“How do you feel?”

“Wired,” he says.

“Seriously? Bruce never said anything about the side-effects, but I figured they’d be like normal pain-killers; make you drowsy and all that.”

“No,” Peter sits up quickly and doesn’t even flinch. “I feel like I just got steroids or something. Are you—are you actually telling me that Captain America’s drugs are infused with a stimulant? What, so he can keep fighting even when he’s in the middle of dying?”

Tony blinks. “Well that was smart of dear Banner.”

“Yeah, or insane.” Peter flexes his hands. “I feel like I need to go for a run, or like, break something.”

“Let’s avoid that,” Tony says, pushing him back down. “You need to heal, not mess yourself up even more, understood?”

Peter stares. “Is it normal to see sounds?”

Pepper bursts out laughing again. “I’m sorry,” she says when Tony glares. “Really, I am, I promise. Peter, honey, how about we get you to a bedroom where you can rest up? We’ll call your aunt and explain everything.”

—

Everything is going fine until May asks, “How did you get to the Tower so quick, then?”

Peter blinks. “Hmm? Pardon?”

“If you were at Ned’s,” May says, “how’d you manage to swing all the way across town?”

Peter opens his mouth and closes it. “I, uh… well, funny story, um… I wasn’t actually at Ned’s?”

There’s a pause over the phone. Pepper, who’s holding it, raises an eyebrow. May says: “You told me you were going to Ned’s, Peter.”

His face feels hot. He hopes it isn’t red. Both Pepper and Tony—from the doorway with his hands stuffed in his sweatpant pockets—are staring. It’s almost as bad as if May were really here.

“Well I was going to Ned’s, but then I changed my mind and went somewhere else and oh—look at the time! I think we’re going through a tunnel—”

“Don’t even try to pull that crap! That’s it, I’m coming over there—”

“May,” Peter says, serious now, “you’re in the middle of a shift, there’s people dying. Just—I’m perfectly fine, I took my Captain America drugs and everything is gonna be okay.”

“But you lied to me.”

“No, I changed my mind.”

“And went where?”

“Irrelevant.”

“Peter.”

“May.”

She groans from the other end of the line and demands to speak to Pepper one on one. Tony’s fiancé grins and switches off speaker, before slipping out with a bright laugh to finish off the conversation. Tony stares expectantly. “So where were you?”

“Oh my god, not you too. You know, on second thought, I actually am completely exhausted and—”

“Uh, nope,” Tony flops down onto the bed. “Fess up.”

Peter sighs. He squirms down and covers his pillow with a head. “No.”

Tony joins him under it. “Tell me.”

Peter scowls. He rolls onto his side so they’re facing one another. “I was with my girlfriend.”

“Oooo—”

“Shush! It’s… it’s really not a big deal and I haven’t told May yet because MJ and I haven’t even really talked about it and it all happened super fast and—” he remembers to breathe, “I just… I always tell May everything, you know? But I kind of just felt like… this was something I had to figure out first on my own. Maybe it’s stupid, but I know she’s gonna be super hurt when she finds out it’s been a month and I haven’t said anything—”

“Kid,” Tony cuts in. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm,” Peter promises, because he is. He’s also just incredibly hyper and stressed.

“It’s a normal instinct to want to figure things out and define them before you start announcing them to the world. I get that. But you’re still a kid, Pete, and even if you don’t want people prying into your love life, we still need to know where you are in case something goes wrong.”

Peter harrumphs as he turns away. “There’s a tracker on my phone and my suit. It would be easier to find me than anything else.”

Tony clicks his tongue. “You got a point there.”

“I just wanted time.”

“I know.”

“But I really like her, okay? Like she’s so smart and she’s got this really dark sense of humour and she’s actually kind of terrifying sometimes—”

“Oh, the scary ones are always fun.”

They stay up talking through the night and, when the sun comes up, Pepper joins them with a tray of freshly made blueberry waffles. May arrives around the same time and, looking too tired to be mad, simply drops onto the bed with them and steals what’s left of his food.

—

4. 

Peter is on patrol when he hears it:

a soft, quiet yelping coming from somewhere down below the rooftop he’s perched on.

At first he figures he’s imagining things, but then his ears perk again. He leans over the building’s edge to find the source of the noise.

In the dark it’s hard to make anything out, so he climbs slowly down the side of the wall, squinting. There’s another yelp and a low whine, almost pained. Peter zeroes in on the sound and creeps toward a set of dumpsters; they’re so full of trash they’re overflowing, and it’s underneath a broken down cardboard box that he finds it... 

A puppy.

Now, Peter is no liar. He’s wanted a dog since he was like, a fetus. The words ‘A dog’ have been on every birthday and Christmas list for as long as he can remember. It’s only recently, in the years since Ben’s death, that he’s pretty much given up—after all, May is so overworked and they can barely afford to feed themselves. How could they afford a pet?

But also…

This is the cutest dog he’s ever seen.

It’s tiny and fluffy and brown and has the biggest, saddest eyes he’s ever seen.

Peter kind of just stands there staring like an idiot for a good few seconds and then slowly kneels down. “Um, hi,” he says, in the gentlest voice he can manage. The puppy, who can’t be older than a few weeks and looks completely starved and exhausted, whines in response.

Peter holds out his hand for the dog to sniff. It lifts its head lazily and leans forward, nose twitching and dry. “You need water, huh? Come on, I know a place.”

—

“Shelob,” Tony greets without looking up from whatever project he’s working on. “What can I do for you at… one in the fucking morning?”

“I need your help with something, but you have to promise you won’t get mad or make me get rid of him—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, what have you done now?”

“He was just so helpless and cold and small and…” Peter swallows and reveals the puppy, presently wrapped up in his hoodie. “Meet Nugget.”

Tony’s face is the epitome of Disappointed Dad. He stares, open-mouthed, and after a second his shoulders fall. “Well, fuck.”

Peter snuggles Nugget against his chest and steps closer, but then Tony holds up a hand to stop him. “Nah-ah! Not until that thing gets a flea bath!”

Hope sparks in Peter’s chest. “You mean we can keep him?”

“I mean there’s no way I’m getting near him until I know I won’t break out in hives.”

“That’s not how fleas work.”

“Do I care? No. Come on, let’s go to the bathroom.”

—

“Why do you have flea shampoo?”

Peter’s inquiry is made tentatively. They both have their hands in the sud-filled sink as they systematically wash Nugget’s fur.

“There was… an incident a while ago. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Peter stares. Blinks. “Okay. Well, I think he’s clean.”

Nugget barks as if in agreement, and so Peter and Tony lift him out of the basin and set him on a pile of no doubt expensive, fluffy white towels. Tony takes the lead after that. He’s surprisingly gentle and patient with the yapping, impatient puppy—even when Nugget tries to claw at him and shake himself dry, Tony never loses his cool.

A few minutes later they’re sitting on their stomachs watching Nugget stomp around on a blanket. There’s water in a bowl for him at one corner and a plate of chopped up chicken at another.

“I can’t take him home,” Peter says morosely after a few minutes. “May won’t let me keep him.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Where does she even think you are right now?”

“...In my bed.”

“Wow,” Tony says, deadpan. “Okay, well, I most certainly can’t keep him either.”

“What?! Why not?!”

Tony sighs. “I’m Iron Man, if you hadn’t noticed, kiddo—”

“Oh, what, so you’re too tough to look after him?”

“No, I’m too busy. I spend like, twenty-three out of twenty-four hours in a day in my shop and the rest of the time I’m on my knees apologising to Pepper and begging for forgiveness. There’s no time in-between to feed the pup, walk the pup—”

“I could come by,” Peter blurts. “Like, once a day, and I could make sure he’s eaten and play with him and stuff. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger—”

“Except to press ‘purchase’ on my shopping cart full of dog food—”

“Tony,” Peter cuts in, pleading, “please? I can’t just drop him off at some kennel so they can—” he covers the dog’s ears, “so they can euthanize him in a week when no one buys him. He deserves so much better, you know?”

Tony frowns, considering it, and Peter waits with his breath caught in his throat until, “God, fine.”

“Yes!”

“But! But! A pet is a serious responsibility, okay? You might as well be adopting a child—”

“What would you know about raising kids?” Peter asks, only jokingly, but Tony just stares and then, for some reason, smiles.

“You have to make sure he’s happy,” Tony says. “You have to be there for him in whatever way he needs, alright? I’ll set up a pen in the penthouse and you can make sure he works off his energy there, and if I have time I’ll even take you both to the park. And if he ever happens to pee on my carpet, I’m counting on you to clean it up.”

“Don’t you have, like, housekeepers for that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, but this is character building stuff.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll clean up the pee.”

They continue to iron out the details for a while and bicker over whether Nugget’s last name should be Parker or Stark, and it’s only when Pepper walks in—still in her pajamas, bleary eyed and complaining that they woke her up—that they both decide it should be ‘Potts’.

—

5. (+1)

It starts with a headache.

He’s bent over his desk studying for a Calc test when the throbbing begins. It’s not so bad at first, but after a half hour or so his vision is swimming and he keeps having to take breaks to massage his temples and close his eyes. The equations are all blending together and he can’t think straight anymore.

Peter decides to give up right around then. After all, if he’s not gonna retain any of the information, why bother?

May pokes and prods through dinner. Peter tries to fool her by acting like everything is normal and okay and even manages to make her laugh once or twice.

Inside, dread is coiling through his stomach like an irritated snake. He knows what’s coming next; after all, he doesn’t really get sick anymore, so what else could it be?

Peter tries to sleep but ends up tossing and turning for most of the night. He falls into some kind of half-conscious daze at around four in the morning and rouses about twenty minutes later, soaked with sweat and aching everywhere.

Feeling like he’s gonna vomit, Peter kicks off his blankets and strips the sheets off his bed. He takes his shirt off because the fabric is too abrasive against his skin and it’s like he can feel every fibre tickling against it, grating and chafing. He curls up into a tight ball and covers his ears with his hands to block out the now amplified sounds of the city: car alarms, dogs barking, music playing.

Normally Peter loves the way New York is never silent. Now, he just wishes everyone would shut the fuck up for once.

When he stumbles out of his room a little while later, May is already gone. She’d told him the night before that she had an early shift and for once he’s actually grateful. Haltingly, Peter gets ready for school. He’s already skipped three days this month and if he misses this Calc quiz he’s gonna fucking bomb the class.

May would kill him.

It’s better to suffer a little than die.

Brushing his teeth makes his head spin and the minute he wriggles into his clothes he feels like a caged animal about to claw his skin off. Everything takes so much longer than normal. He doesn’t eat because the mere thought of food makes the back of his throat sting with bile.

On the train, he closes his eyes and rests his head against the cool glass of the window, trying to tune out the constant screeching of the rails. One day, on God, he will make it a personal project to oil every fucking line in the subway.

At his fifth stop, an old lady boards and all the seats are taken.

Peter swallows thickly and stands. Black spots dance in his vision and he grabs onto the overhead bar—something he hasn’t actually needed to use since he was a little kid—and tries not to pass out.

He almost misses the stop to get to school, but slips out at the last second, millimetres away from getting his backpack caught in the doors. Peter is hot all over and lightheaded as he makes his way out of the station. It’s even hotter up above, what with summer coming now and all.

Peter is late and he doesn’t need his watch to tell; Flash’s car is already parked out front instead of zooming through the drop off to run him over (which, hey, silver lining), and the majority of the student body is already inside.

Peter has to stop multiple times on his way to Spanish just to breathe. By the time he gets there he’s at least ten minutes late for roll call.

“Mr. Parker,” his teacher greets, unimpressed. “So glad you could join us.”

Peter makes a noise and takes the proffered quiz. He wonders absently why some people choose to teach. What is it, like, some kind of power trip for them?

He has five minutes to finish the quiz but doesn’t make it past the first question. Ned volunteers to collect them and stops at Peter’s desk while Professor Scott outlines today’s lesson plan.

“Dude,” he whisper-hisses, “you look like complete shit. What on Earth are you doing here right now?”

“Test,” Peter mutters dully, resting his cheek on his hand and closing his eyes. “Here you go. Didn’t finish it.”

Ned takes it carefully, holding it with two fingers like it’s covered in disease. “Do you want me to get the nurse or something?”

Peter hums. “No. Just… headache.”

Slowly Ned backs away. “Um—”

“Mr. Leeds!” Professor Scott says, loudly. Ned jumps. “Is there a problem back there?”

Yes, Peter thinks. You’re the human version of nails on a fucking chalk board. Please, for the love of all that is holy, just start on the vocab.

Only he accidentally says all of that out loud.

The whole class is staring. Flash is slack-jawed. Betty Brant’s eyes are the size of small moons.

“Parker,” Scott grits out—and Peter has denominated him to just Scott now out of reciprocation and spite; “You just earned yourself a shiny new detention. I’d like you to take this slip to the principal’s office. Please.”

Oh, thank God. At least it’ll be quiet there.

Peter stands and brushes past Ned and it literally feels like flames of hell are licking against his skin. He almost vomits. This is decidedly not good.

He takes the paper. “Gladly, good sir.”

When he’s gone, there’s an outburst of muttering that his enhancements let him hear. It only makes the overload worse. Peter covers his ears with his hands again and, overcome with a sudden wave of vertigo, ducks into the bathroom.

He barely makes it to the toilet before emptying his stomach of last night’s food.

Peter sags against the wall, panting. He keeps his eyes closed and waits for the world to stop spinning. About ten minutes later, the smell of jasmine shampoo—normally welcome—causes him to lean over and retch again.

MJ pokes her head inside the unlocked stall. “Jesus,” she whispers. The second her hands touch his body he flinches and she immediately retracts them. “Fuck, sorry. Ned said you wigged out in Spanish. I looked for you in the Principal's office but you weren’t there and... What’s—what’s wrong? I thought you couldn’t even get sick.”

“Bad headache,” he mutters, spitting into the toilet. It’s easier than explaining about his freakish mutations and how they sometimes go completely haywire, leaving him on edge and nauseous and irritable.

MJ grabs him some toilet paper to wipe his mouth with. “Did you take anything?”

“Pain meds don’t work on me.”

“Does May know? You should have called in.”

“Couldn’t. Can’t miss my test.”

She sighs. “Your final is like fifty percent of your grade and you could pass it with your eyes closed. You can miss your test, you’re just afraid of getting anything lower than an A.”

Peter is silent. “You got me there.”

MJ’s hand twitches like she wants to touch him but knows she can’t. “You need to go home. Lie down, get some rest.”

“May is working,” Peter says, “and if I have to take the subway again right now I’ll die. I really will. It’s so—the smell and the noise and I can’t sit down and—”

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Just give it.”

She’s holding her hand out for it and giving him a no-nonsense expression that kind of reminds Peter of Pepper Potts on a rampage. He’s seen what happens to Tony when he crosses her, so he fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over.

“Hold on.”

She stands and leaves. Peter closes his eyes again. He tunes out her conversation because if he doesn’t, he’s absolutely gonna vomit again and nobody wants that.

MJ slips back inside the stall. “Okay, solved. Do you still feel like you’re gonna vomit?”

Peter thinks about it. “No.”

“Good. We’re gonna go to the nurse, okay?”

“Oh boy.”

—

Tony Stark walks into Peter’s school and finds the hallways empty. The classroom doors are shut and the muted sounds of teachers lecturing are the only signs that anyone is here at all.

He finds Peter in the infirmary, sitting on the examination table with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes.

He’s at his side in an instant. “Kid?”

It’s surprise that gets Peter’s eyes open, but the little spider baby immediately regrets it. He flinches and sucks in a sharp breath. “Tony,” he whispers, like the name is all he can manage and the questions will have to wait for later.

Tony looks him over. There are no obvious injuries. The girl on the phone had said it was just a headache, but Tony is way more experienced with Peter’s brand of bullshit and knows there’s usually something else going on beneath the surface.

“I’m gonna go talk to the nurse and then get you out of here, okay?”

A nod.

It’s always a bad thing when he doesn’t argue. Peter Parker would start a fight about what kind of pizza to order, even if you suggest the kind he really wants, just to be a stubborn little shit about things.

Tony slips out of the exam room. The nurse looks up when he enters her office. “Oh my—Mr. Stark?!”

“Yes, hello,” Tony takes a cautious step forward as she stands. He doesn’t bother to sit. “I’m here to pick up the little gremlin in there.”

Her face flushes. “I didn’t know you’d been called, I—I figured I would just let him wait it out, you know? He didn’t want to be touched, so it was hard to figure out what was up and—so it’s real? About the internship?”

“Of course. Why would he lie?”

She opens her mouth. Closes it. “Well… you know how kids can be.”

“Do I?”

She doesn’t seem to know what to say to that.

Tony sighs. “Look, Nurse—uh, Timms—Nurse Timms, can I please just sign the kid out and take him home? He’s clearly in pain here.”

She starts rifling through her desk for a form. “I mean, I can admit you to take him home, but I really suggest you talk with the principal first—Peter was given a detention before he was brought to my ward, see, and I was—” she shakes her head. “I thought he might be faking.”

Tony stares without blinking for a whole five seconds and then, “Detention? For what?”

“I heard he bad-mouthed a teacher or something. But to be fair, Professor Scott isn’t exactly what I’d call patient.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Tony takes the form she hands him to sign, “my kid doesn’t fake. He has a condition, see. Gets uh… overloaded. Sounds, smells, it can be too much for him. Probably why he snapped.”

“That… that makes sense.”

“Yes,” he says succinctly, and hands the paper back. “You’d know that if you bothered to ask. Anyway, I’ll be going. Thanks for the help, Nurse Times.”

“Uh, it’s—it’s Timms—”

The door shuts behind him.

—

MJ was forced to go back to class. She’d argued and protested but Nurse Timms was insistent. So, MJ had relented. She’d pressed the lightest of kisses on his forehead and it surprisingly hadn’t felt that bad, and then she’d gone.

Tony Stark had shown up about twenty minutes later and it’s just when Peter’s starting to think it was all just a vivid hallucination that the smell of coffee and motor oil fills his senses again. It’s overwhelming but not debilitating.

“Kiddo,” Tony whispers, “is it okay to touch you?”

Peter cracks an eye. Everything is bright but Tony’s suit is mercifully black, so he focuses on that. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna move.”

“Well I gotta get you outta here somehow.”

“But my detention—”

“I already got you out of it,” Tony says breezily. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Tony,” Peter says, cheeks flushing. “You can’t just bribe my principal into—”

“I didn’t bribe anyone. I just explained the situation and besides, Morita’s an old friend.”

Peter closes his eyes again as he frowns. “You’re friends with my principal?”

“I’m a benefactor for your school, too,” Tony says. “But don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.”

Something shifts in the air. Tony is sitting now. “Happy’s waiting outside,” he says, “but whenever you’re ready.”

Peter thinks about it for a few seconds and decides it’s gonna have to happen at some point, anyway. Might as well rip the band-aid off now. Slowly he takes a deep breath and manages to sit up with Tony’s help. The older man tries to avoid touching him as much as possible, but surprisingly enough the weight of his hand against Peter’s spine isn’t crushing or aggravating. It doesn’t hurt.

“Baby steps,” Tony says softly. “We’ll take you out the side door, okay?”

Even getting to the door is slow going but Tony doesn’t seem to mind. Right before they open it, Tony stops and pulls his sunglasses off. “Here, try these.”

Peter puts them on. He feels ridiculous because like, they work on Tony who was literally born in the seventies, but Peter really doesn’t dig the groovy shades. Regardless they’re better than nothing and even help a little.

The halls are empty again. Most of the students will be in the gym right about now, or the cafeteria for lunch. They don’t run into anybody on the way out and as soon as they’re in the back of the car, Peter sags against Tony’s side. He feels like he’s just run ten miles.

“Drive, Hogan,” Tony says, and then the partition glides up.

For a few seconds it’s almost completely quiet. Noise suppression tech, Peter realises, and he feels like he could cry from relief. For the first time in hours there’s just… nothing. No traffic, no dozens of students talking at once. The air conditioning unit is filtered, so he’s not being attacked with the smell of body odour and clashing perfume scents and Axe cologne. There’s just Tony and beautiful, amazing, showstopping silence.

Tony shifts a little. “Better?”

Peter nods, figuring it’s still probably not safe to speak.

“We’ll be there soon,” Tony says softly.

—

Peter doesn’t remember much after the car ride. He can vaguely recall protesting getting out of the Audi, and he remembers Tony assuring him that everything would be okay, and the next thing he knows he’s lying on his back in an utterly dark bedroom. The walls are insulated just like the car had been, so there’s just no sound, and the bed sheets probably have the highest thread count of all time.

Something shifts beside Peter and he realises Tony is there, feeling his forehead.

“What—?”

“Oh, hey,” Tony greets. “I think you might’ve blacked out there. All the noise hit you at once when we got out of the car and you just…”

“I fainted?”

Tony snorts softly. “Relax. It happens to the best of us. How do you feel, Webster?”

Peter hums. “Bad.”

“Let’s try a scale of one to ten.”

“Okay,” Peter says. “Ten.” Tony lets out a little grunt at that and so Peter elaborates, “It was at like, a twenty this morning, so.”

“Ah, I see.” Tony’s grip shifts to Peter’s wrist to measure his pulse. “This okay?”

“It’s fine.”

And it really is. He doesn’t feel like burning his skin off or anything. Tony’s hands are just warm.

“Any idea what brought this on?”

Peter shifts a little. “I uh… haven’t been sleeping a lot lately.” He swallows. “Like, at all.”

“And how long’s that been going on for?”

“I don’t know. On and off for a few weeks, I guess.”

“Jesus,” Tony sighs and pulls his hand away. He rakes it through his hair. “Kiddo, what have we said about communication? Does May know?”

“....No?”

There’s a long pause where Tony just kind of sits there thinking, like he wants to say whatever comes next carefully. He massages his temples and then: “Alright, scooch over.”

“What?”

“Make room for me.”

Peter blinks and then, tentatively, scoots over a little to allow Tony room to lie down. The older man does, arching his back a little and grunting in pain because he’s like, ancient. They’re not touching, but very slowly Peter starts inching closer again. Eventually he works up the courage to try resting his head on Tony’s chest, which is terrifying not only because it’s Tony Stark, but also because he’d rather not have his brain implode.

Nothing happens. “Your fabric softener must be like, super expensive,” he whispers, because this is actually better than the sheets.

Tony snorts. “I’ll ask Pep about it.”

Peter makes a noncommittal noise and before he knows it, his eyes are closing. For once they actually feel heavy, and the steady rhythm of Tony’s heart beat is soothing, dependable.

Tony’s hands brush lightly over Peter’s hair and then thread through it. “Too much?”

“No,” Peter promises. “Good.”

And so Tony’s fingers run through his curls over and over, gently, lightly. His thumb sweeps over Peter’s cheek once, too, and then he starts muttering in Italian.

Peter cracks an eye. “Are you telling me your grocery shopping list?”

Tony laughs a little. “My mom used to do it for me,” he says. “Something about just hearing her speak the language made me feel… relaxed, I guess. Didn’t matter what she was saying.”

Peter smiles and wraps an arm around Tony’s torso. “Tell me something else.”

“You wanna hear about the time I almost blew up a Chem lab?”

“Uh, duh.”

So Tony launches into it, speaking in a low voice and absently twisting one of Peter’s curls around his finger. It feels nice and the headache is fading fast.

Peter sleeps. 

[shimmeringclouds]

Karamatsu - Lycoris Radiata

𝘠𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘪!𝘒𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶 𝘟 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Dim. Yet warm. You figured that's how a forest would be during the summer.

With that thought in mind, however, it didn't help you whatsoever with finding the path you were supposed to be walking along. Of course you would lose track of where you were meant to be walking; wandering minds and feet aren't exactly a good pair.

Glancing upward through the mess of tree branches and leaves, you could just about make out the glimmer of stars above you. Looks like you missed dinner. Again. Was it really so hard for you to go for a relaxing walk in the woodlands?

Sighing, you rubbed your upper thighs. Sore. The blood pumping through them felt weird against the fabric of your trousers, thumping uncomfortably against your fingers. Tingling. Just... weird.

Tree trunks stood by attentively, waiting patiently for your tired figure to curl up against its' bark. And you did just that, groaning as you stretched out your arms and legs. Your arms fell with a thud to your sides, fingers absentmindedly caressing the cool grass beneath you.

...Now what? Were you just going to sit there for the rest of the night? A ridiculous idea, surely. However, it was the only thing you could do. It's not like you knew if anyone was nearby to help you get home and, even then, you didn't think you could just trust anyone you would meet in the middle of the woods at night.

Another sigh. You're good at those, aren't you? You tried to take a look at your surroundings, only to see the dark figures of trees and bushes (at least, you hoped they were bushes). Dark blues and greens, hues of black, absences of colour.

A flash of red. A stark contrast to the deep colours around you. A beautiful flower, you saw. Its' crimson petals clustered together in the centre, with numerous similar coloured stems curling upwards, swaying and dancing with the wind.

"A Spider Lily, huh?" you muttered. You reached out and grazed the tips of your finger against it, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You shouldn't bloom here, all alone like this..."

Your mind briefly wandered back to a conversation you had had with a friend at some point throughout the week. Being the flower enthusiast she was, you always allowed yourself to become subject to her seemingly endless rants about flowers, plants, herbs - anything that she had knowledge about. You remembered what she had said about these richly coloured beauties.

'If you see someone that you may never meet again, these flowers will bloom along the path.'

It sounded like a beautiful but tragic piece of poetry. You began to wonder where the myth had even come from. When was it first spoken? Was it based on true events? Was it really such a bad thing, not meeting someone again?

You knew, from experience, that letting people leave your everyday life was actually beneficial for yourself. Although it took you a number of years to realise it, you found that the kinds of people you attracted were a lot worse than they appeared to be. Deep down, they were monsters. Horrible people, who have the audacity to call themselves human.

Of course it was painful, but only at first. Now, it didn't bother you much anymore. Your soul felt lighter, if anything, indicating that you were getting better, not worse.

Releasing the flower from your ghost of a grasp, you leaned your head back, closing your eyes. That was enough for today. It was time to rest for a while. Breathing in, and out, slowly, ever so slowly, a feeling of slumber crept its way into your body.

Relaxing your tense muscles, you released a long, heavy breath. Sleep.

"It's dangerous to sleep out here, my dove."

"WHA-!!"

An unholy shriek escaped from your throat suddenly, and you pushed your body away from the tree you were leaning against, crawling rapidly across the ground. Whipping your body around, your wide eyes landed on the lantern that outlined the shadowy figure, who stood just behind where you were previously sitting.

"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, angel!"

The deep, husky voice that whispered into your ear became slightly higher pitched and frantic. You saw the figure step forward, causing you to flinch.

"Ah, do not worry, princess. I won't harm you..."

"That's what they all say!" you blurted out. A short silence followed before you asked:

"Who.. Who are you?"

The figure stepped forward, raising its' lantern to reveal itself.

It was... a man. Yet he wasn't human. His skin was pale, eyes surrounded by red markings. On top of his brown hair was a pair of glowing blue horns, which seemed to flow like fire. his clothing seemed old fashioned, covering his slightly built figure in dark robes of satin and ribbons. The lantern that he held also emitted the same coloured light as his horns, flickering before you.

"You may call me Karamatsu, my dear," he bowed slightly, a cat-like grin crossing his features. "I am but a humble spirit who spotted a wandering soul, lost and alone in a forest that humans should be cautious with. Perhaps some guidance is in your best interest?"

"I, uhm... You're not.. human?" A deep chuckle sounded, sending a shiver up your spine. It was echoey. As if, even though he was standing right in front of you, he was still so far away.

"I'm afraid not, flower. I am an Aoandon. But do not be afraid, I am not here to hurt you. I would only be a guilty guy if I were to leave such a beautiful woman alone in the woods, where anything could happen."

He reached out a partially gloved hand to your figure, still on the ground.

"Please, allow my light to guide you home."

You were sure that if you could see the words he spoke, they would be surrounded by flowers and sparkles. You never knew a man - or anyone, for that matter - to speak in such an overzealous manner.

However, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It didn't make you feel uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, actually. You guessed that's why you reached up and grasped his unnaturally cold hands, allowing him to pull you upwards in a swift motion. He grinned softly down at you, making you realise just how short you were compared to him.

"May I ask for your name, love? Or would you prefer the names I give you?" he winked. You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes, in fear that he would actually hurt you if you got on the wrong foot. So he was a gentleman and a flirt? What an odd combination.

"[Y/N]..." you decided to not answer his second question. It was probably for the best.

"[Y/N]. A wonderful name! As gorgeous as the stars above! I am certain that they aligned to create a bridge just for us to meet on this special night!" Karamatsu's hands were waving around in wild, extravagant gestures. He looked ridiculous. What a strange character.

"I- .. Sure.."

For most of the journey, you listened to this... spirit, ramble nonsense about the scenery around you, or about your features that he found endearing. There were times where he would deliberately lower his voice into something he thought was sultry and enticing, peering into your eyes with a smouldering stare. You didn't mind the dip in his voice at all, not a single bit. It was just the way that the poor man was clearly trying too hard to make you fall for him.

'He clearly has never been successful with any woman before... How cute!'

You couldn't help yourself. You had just met him, and you already wanted to know more about him. Was that weird? Probably. Maybe it was the touch-starved part of yourself that was talking, longing to be held in someone's arms after being neglected by so many for so long.

"Watch your step here, my dear." His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, peering up at him to see this a pale hand was held out to assist you. You gladly took hold of it, fingers grasping his colder ones. Even as he helped you over a few jagged rocks in your path, you weren't willing to let go just yet. Although his skin was cold, his touch felt inviting and comforting.

You didn't want to let go yet.

And it seemed that Karamatsu was overjoyed by this, his eye glistening with a kind of happiness that you had never seen a human hold before.

"A-Are you afraid, sweetheart? There is nothing to fear, not as long as I am here by your side! However, if you wish to hold me tightly, I will never object you!" The slight tremor of nervousness in his words sounded so endearing to you.

"Good, because I wasn't planning to let go just yet."

You had never seen a human wear such a broad and satisfied smile, either. It was contagious, causing you to smile timidly up at him in return.

Eventually, though, your midnight stroll had to come to an end for the both of you. Karamatsu had led you to the beginning of the trail where, just a little further ways down, was a bus stop for you to get home.

"We have arrived, my angel."

"Ah... right," you mumbled, slight disappointment seeping through your tone. Karamatsu chuckled, his cat-like grin widening slightly.

"What is this? Is my fair maiden unwilling to let me go?"

"Something like that..." you mumbled, keeping your face directed towards the ground as you released your hold from his arm. Karamatsu's cheeks bloomed pink, a shade darker under the moonlight.

"A-Ah! Well," luckily, he was able to snap out of his surprised stupor, "Do not be so sullen, my moonbeam!"

'Moonbeam?'

"I'm sure the stars will align once again to reunite us as we journey through our lives together, and one day... One day, maybe..."

His bold tone suddenly simmered down to a gentle murmur, almost lost to the breeze if you weren't standing so close to him. A gentle smile was on his face now, his eyes glazed over in reminiscence of something akin to a far away daydream.

"I hope, one day, our paths cross again, my love."

His cold fingers caressed your own, lifting them up to press a chaste kiss onto your knuckles. It may have been brief, but the cold touch burned itself into your skin, lasting as he slowly, reluctantly, pulled away.

"Have a safe journey home, angel!" He grinned, saluting quickly before turning away, holding his flickering lantern before him to lead his way back into the forest he called his home.

You had no words left in you. They had all been snatched away by his comforting words and soft touches. His kind eyes, his dazzling smile. His glowing aura that led you through the darkness around you.

Ah, but good things never last long for you. You had to leave before you missed the next bus. You had leave this lonely, broken soul behind. Just like how he had no choice but to leave yours.

Turning away, you caught a glimpse of red from the corner of your eyes.

A trail of red spider lilies. Standing tall and blooming where he once stood a moment ago.

'Please... Meet me here again. One day.'

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: something sad (Anger)

Summary: The last time Katsuki sees Izuku alive the other boy is rushing to save him. A ‘the Sludge Villain incident gone wrong’ AU. 

Katsuki gets the worst sort of wake up call, takes a look at himself, and doesn’t like what he sees. 

Characters:  Katsuki Bakugo

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

WARNINGS: Major Character death (mentioned but not described). Swearing. heavy angst. destructive behaviour.

(Follow up part here)

...

(Anger-  In which  Katsuki does not handle tragedy well  and implodes)

“Katsuki, son, you should come inside.”

Katsuki barely feels the soft touch of a hand on his shoulders as his father attempts to guide him over the threshold. He remains in place, glaring at the older man, unwilling to move. His father sighs and gives up on trying to move him, instead talking over his head, addressing the police officer behind him. 

“Where did you find him this time?”

“The park down the road. We had reports of a kid setting off explosives with multiple noise complaints from the nearby apartments...” The sound of the conversation washes over him, muffled in his growing irritation. He feels that familiar burning anger ignite, fuelling his resentment. “...repeated unlicensed quirk use can lead to time in a juvenile quirk correction facility.”

“We’re sorry for the disruption officer,” his father dips his head, “We’ll keep a better eye on him from now on.”

“See that you do. Next time, he’ll be taking a trip to the station. I would hate to see a kid with so much potential...”

“What fucking potential!” Katsuki snarls, whipping around to glare at the officer behind him. Bitterness curdles in his stomach, exasperated by the expression of disappointment directed his way. What right did this stranger have to look at him like that! He looked at Katsuki like he wasn’t living up to expectations!

“You don’t know a thing about me!” 

“Katsuki,” His father tries to interrupt.

“Why the fuck….

“Katsuki.” This time the interruption is louder, hash, “That’s enough.”

He scowls, shoving past his father, shrugging away from the comforting hand as he goes, “I’ll be in my room, don’t come in.” 

He stomps through the living room and down the hallway, sparks running up and down his arms. If his mum were home she might have yelled at loud his entrance, telling him to stop with the racket. She would probably have had some choice words to say about the police escort as well. She wasn’t home. She wouldn’t be home till later, having spent most of her afternoon with Aunt Inko.  

Before he can get to his room, he catches his father’s tired voice as he continues his conversation with the officer.

 “…still processing the death of a friend. He’s going through a rough patch...thank you for your leniency.”

He slams the door with enough force that it rattles the wall. With his back against the frame, he clenches and unclenches his fist, breathing hard.

Friend?  FRIEND! HA! 

Deku had never been his friend. Or rather, he had never been Deku’s friend. Deku had probably seen him as a friend, always following him around, whinging when he got too rough with other kids. The quirkless idiot had always been trying to help when Katsuki didn’t need help! He had never needed Deku!

He smashes a fist into his desk and the wood creeks, splintering but holding together. There are more sparks and the pop, pop, pop of tiny explosions. The computer barely escapes his next attack which sees the desk cracking, his books and pens crashing to the floor. 

“Damnit.”

If he wasn’t Deku’s friend, then why was he so angry! He couldn’t think. He couldn’t sleep. All he could do was feel angry. Burning directionless anger that ate at him, leaving him hollow. It followed him through his every waking moment. Inescapable and all-consuming. 

“DAMNIT!”

…

School is a chore. It’s boring.  Long. Tiresome. Pointless. The other kids were either idiots, dragging out simple lessons into weeklong ordeals, or so pathetic they never grasped the concepts at all. This is nothing new. School had always been boring and full of pathetic extras. For the longest time, school to Katsuki had been nothing more than a stepping stone on his way to greatness. Now it wasn’t even that.

He taps a single, impatient finger against his desk, glaring at the clock as it slowly ate away at the seconds left in the day. 

“Bakugo.”

He deliberately ignores the teacher’s attempt to get his attention. It wasn’t like he was going to get in trouble for the behaviour. She would simply shake her head, humouring his poor attitude like it wasn’t a huge fucking problem. Sometimes Katsuki wondered if he didn’t have some second quirk that projected an invisible bullshit shield, preventing others from seeing what a failure he was.

Today, the call is followed up by another, more insistent one. 

“Bakugo.” 

He tears his eyes from the clock.

“You’re being called to the principal’s office.”

 “Huh?” he drawls. 

“You must not have heard the announcement,” his teacher explains, her expression apologetic, “It was over the intercom so you better hurry.” By now, every eye in the class is on him, waiting for his reaction. The pathetic extras on either side of him are even leaning ever so slightly to the side like they expect him to blow his top any moment. 

“Whatever.” He stands, ignoring the wave of whispers that run through the class in hissed voices. When he steps through the door the voices get a bit louder, so loud that the teacher needs to call them to order, “Settle down. Now if you would turn your attention to this next question.” 

He shoves his hands into his pockets and stalks down the hall to his destination. When he arrives at the door he lifts a leg and kicks so it jumps open and smacks into the wall with a loud CRACK. The sudden action has both his principal, Mr Fukuhara, and that woman representing the district’s Careers Board-he can’t remember her name- startling. 

“You called?” 

They are both seated on the low couches placed at the front of the room adjacent to the principal’s desk. The only times he has been allowed to sit on these couches were during parent/teacher meetings.

“Ah, yes Bakugo,” Mr Fukuhara straightens his tie, recovering first, “Please take a seat.”

Katsuki slouches onto the closet couch opposite them, listening to the principal ramble his way through a greeting, “Now, we tried to have your parents come in but they were both unfortunately busy. Nevertheless, this is an important conversation to be hand and we want you to understand that the school is dedicated to….”

He exhales, cutting off the diatribe, “Am I in trouble.”

“No. No trouble. Though this does involve your recent behaviour.”

Of course, he wasn’t in trouble. He curls one hand into a fist, familiar anger beginning to bubble up, increasing in intensity.  

“We received your revised high school submission forms,” Ms Career Advice starts, “and we think there has been a mistake. We want to clear it up as quickly as possible.”

So that is what this meeting was about.

“What mistake?” He grunts even when he knows precisely what they’re talking about. 

“It says here that you're applying to Aldera Senior High.”

“Yeah, 80% of the losers in this shit hole are going Aldera Senior High. What’s the problem?”

The two adults exchange a meaningful glance. For a brief second, he thinks he might get told off for swearing. No such luck. Mr Fukuhara simply sighs and continues like Katsuki hadn’t said anything.

 “We were under the impression that you would be applying to U.A.?  You have it written on your original submission forms.”

“So what. I’m not allowed to change my mind? U.A. is a selective school…I’m just being realistic.” The words feel like ash in his mouth. Hadn’t he said something similar to Deku not too long ago?

“Your academic performance is more than high enough to qualify and with your quirk…”

He slams his clenched fist into the arm of the couch, cutting the woman off. There is an audible pop, pop around his hands, made loud in the sudden silence. God, would people shut up about is quirk for one second! Both adults pause, expressions a mix of worried and concerned. He hates it. He hates them. 

“I got a zero on my last test,” he snaps, “My average sucks now. I’m just like the rest of the extras here.”

“Yes, well, there were extenuating circumstances in that case. When looking at your academic history overall you’re dedication is obvious,” another pause, “even in the unlikely event that you did not get into U.A. there are plenty of other, top-rate schools that you can apply to as backups.”

Katsuki doesn’t bother responding, opting instead to stand. They weren’t going to listen so there was no point in him being here. 

“Bakugo  please sit back down.” Fukuhara stands as well, voice now stern, “This is an important conversation. You can’t just walk away.”

“Watch me.” He turns towards the door but before he can move there is the lighter touch of a hand at his elbow. 

“I understand that you have taken recent…events…rather hard,” says Ms Career Advice and her voice is softer, more sympathetic, addressing him like he is some startled child, “but you need to think about your future. Don’t throw away this opportunity out of some misplaced guilt…” 

“I’m not fucking going to U.A.!” 

He jerks his arm away, glaring over his shoulder, trying to force some of the fire burning in his chest into his eyes. It must have worked because the woman immediately stops talking, drawing away. 

“How much shit do I have to pull for you morons to get that through your thick skulls,” he growls as he stalks out of the room, the two adults rushing to follow.

“…see… councillor…talk …. your parents. This sort of self-destructive…” The words wash over him as he continues down the hall. 

Katsuki doesn’t bother returning to class, opting to ditch and leave the idiots and their bullshit behind.  He is too angry to concentrate anyway. Until now he has had a perfect attendance record, always meticulous in his show of dedication. 

And that’s all it really was wasn’t it…a show. None of that shit mattered now.

Hands in his pockets, Katsuki wonders aimlessly down the sidewalk, through side streets, jacket to his uniform thrown over his shoulder so he doesn’t overheat under the hot summer sun. At least out here, he is free to be as angry as he liked without people nagging him. He could glare all he wanted at the cracked pavement and it wouldn’t burst into tears. Maybe, he will go blow up some trees in a local park and the police would finally come through on their threat to take him in to the station. It’s tempting…very tempting.

It would have to be somewhere without people-harder to find on such a nice day- because as much as he wanted, needed, to blow shit up, he didn’t want to injure anyone…

Now you grow conscious… too little too late....the treacherous part of his mind hisses. The thought feeds his anger like gasoline on an open flame.  

(Follow up part here)

[the-elusive-libbin]

The Hungry Boar Prince - Hunger fic

Dimitri, Felix and Sylvain set up camp after a battle but can they get any sleep with the prince’s grumbling belly? Contains slightly painful hunger, tummy rubs and sweetness between the three boys. Lighthearted and SFW with blushing and hungry grumbles ^_^ Enjoy~ ************************************************************************************

What is the meaning of war? There are hundreds of possible answers depending on who it was that you asked. This skirmish that had occurred today was a minor one, a small-scale battle and though true enough not a war, it had been exhausting nonetheless. The clanging of steel meeting steel and the ‘whoosh’ of tightly pulled bow strings that supported arrows as they released had long since faded with time. A few hours had passed since the battle’s end and three of its participants had gotten themselves in quite a predicament. The battle, for these three at least, had been won and a celebration was becoming largely overdue; yet the three found themselves not in celebration but in mutual disagreement. Each wanted something different and so bickering had occurred. The warriors were not lost but were hindered and it would take a while to return to the monastery. 

Sylvain, the red haired lancer was all in agreement for stopping and resting but first wanted to go back to the battlefield to procure his horse that was lost in the skirmish, doing so would allow him to run off ahead or at least use the animal to carry what little provisions they owned; there was no way a single horse of that size would carry the weight of the three men however. Felix, the most agile and equally most argumentative, wanted to carry on straight to their destination and get the trip over and done with, he did not want to waste his time waiting around. Dimitri, the wayward prince, had thought it through and as the leader had decided that the tree should make camp and rest, revitalise their energy and travel back to the monastery by foot the next day. What good were they to be if they carried on straight with no energy? They may collapse. Thinking it best to not go back for the horses either, Dimitri relayed his opinion and ended up getting the other two to agree, one more reluctantly than the other of course. 

So it was that Dimitri, Sylvain and Felix created an encampment in a small, hollowed out cave (if you could even call it that. It was not very deep) and started a controlled fire for warmth in preparation for nightfall that was encroaching at a slightly more vigorous pace than they had expected. Time had flown by, their exhaustion taking a hold and making them much more subdued and sluggish as they moved. Soon the three had rolled out their bed rolls that had miraculously survived the skirmish on the back of Sylvain’s horse which had coincidentally fled from the battlefield after being hit and found its way back to its master, much to the red headed flirt’s joy, and prepared to settle in for the night. They had found warmth, a horse and shelter. That was the good news. The bad news? The knight’s provisions were lost and the other members of their group would be halfway back to the monastery by now with their own food and water rations. They would have to go hungry.

“Ahhh~ I’m beat. That was tougher than we thought it was going to be huh?” Sylvain flopped backwards onto his bed roll, his hands behind his head as Dimitri took the centre mat to his right and Felix took the last roll the other side of the prince, lying down and immediately turning to face away, shunning out his two companions. He would rather squeeze his eyes closed and try to sleep, avoiding the pair’s rambling, uninteresting conversations. “It was.” Dimitri sighed in response. “We won and luckily, with very few casualties. But that does not mean we are out of the woods yet, we will need to think up a new strategy for next time. I believe I speak for all of us when I say that I have no energy left.” “Yeah, we really exerted ourselves.” “Hmph. Speak for yourselves, I’ve still got energy to carry on.” Felix gave his input with a scoff and a snide tone. “Oh yeah?~ What are you going to prove that Felix? Go run back to the monastery and grab us some food will ya.” Winked the older male. “Tsk! Shut up, you know I can’t do that.” “Awh why? Too tired? Too hungry?” “Will yo-” “That is enough. Felix we all need to conserve what little energy we have. Let us sleep so that we may return home early.” Dimitri interrupted, he did not want his comrades wasting valuable energy and frankly did not want to have to deal with their bickering throughout the night. “Whatever you say your highness.” Sylvain smiled and with a yawn, closed his eyes. “Whatever…” Mumbled the swordsman as he wrapped his arms around himself and subconsciously backed up closer to the prince for warmth just as he used to when the three were younger. Dimitri himself had lay down, resting a hand atop his stomach. It felt unusual, as though something was stirring up inside, waiting to come out. He opted to ignore the feeling for now and eventually the three men managed to drift off. There was no way to tell how long the men had been asleep, aside from the placement of stars as they threw light upon the land in a cloudless, night sky. *Grrrruggllglgggllllle* The prince’s eye shot open. What was that? He checked to his left. Sylvain, snoring gently, inoffensively. Checked his right, Felix, breathing so softly it was barely audible. Both asleep. So then what was...? “Urk!” Dimitri winced and clutched at his middle as it cramped up. It was that feeling from before but way more intense and a lot more painful. The knotting feeling twisted and turned in his stomach making him feel slightly nauseous and if not a little hot. His stomach ached and would not cease in its flipping. He had felt this before and slowly but surely the prince began to realize what was occurring. He was famished. All of his energy had depleted and to make matters worse, Dimitri had an incredibly fast working metabolism with a rather demanding stomach to support his innate strength. By the goddess he was hungry. Pressure was building and the prince knew that he would not be able to quell what was to come. ‘Please.’ He thought. ‘Please do not…’ He mentally begged his stomach and he wrapped his arms around it tightly, feeling that pressure building up, about to release. He fidgeted. ‘I-I cannot hold it.’ His single eye widened as the pressure released and his stomach let out a deep, guttural, roar.

*GGGRRRRRROOOOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRRRRgggggglllll*

Dimitri flinched, unable to stop the groan that he could feel erupting from his poor, empty tummy. Patting and rubbing at his midsection didn’t even come close to stiling the offending sound. He could feel the heat of embarrassment rising, burning his cheeks and ears and sending his face into a hot flush. There was nothing he could do but wait for the noise to peter out and hope the other two didn’t hear. There was no way they didn’t hear. Sylvain’s eyes shot open and he bolted upright immediately, looking around for the source of the noise. Felix awoke of course and had gripped the armorslayer close to his chest but lay still, waiting to slay whatever beast should sneak up on them. “Wha!? What!? What the heck was that?!” Sylvain panicked, wishing he hadn’t left his spear by the wall. He looked around. No sign of threat, his horse was mostly unperturbed but Felix and Dimitri seemed to be awake too. Did they also hear that noise? They must have! It was too loud not to! “You guys definitely heard that too right?” Felix loosened his grip on his sword and rolled over to face the other two. “Of course we did.” he sighed. “I can’t sense a threat but it sounded like a wild beast.” Dimitri remained quiet, he had long since wrapped his arm over his eyes, blushing madly. He was too embarrassed to say anything at this moment. “Well it had to have been something.” Felix continued. “Damn animal woke me up.” “Yeah woke me up too…” “Maybe it was a wild boar.” “What kind of boar have you heard that makes that kind of noise?” “An annoying one.”

*Grrrrrrgllll* 

An audible gurgle came from Dimitri’s belly and the prince moved his free hand to rest atop it without saying a word. Sylvain looked at the blonde male and processed the information. “Oh! I see~” He smirked at the sudden realisation. Felix raised an eyebrow at Sylvain and Dimitri flinched in place. “Awww man! I can’t believe it took us this long to figure it out! Hahaha!” laughed the red head. “What’s so funny?” “Felix, surely we’ve both known his highness long enough to know how his stomach works. You’re starving, isn’t that right Dimitri?” Sylvain winked as he looked at the prince, earning a gulp in return. “So then..” Felix’s mouth widened in shock. “That was his…” “I-it was my stomach.” Dimitri whimpered, finally managing to push through the initial embarrassment. “I apologise. I did not m-mean to wake you both. I could not stop it.” Sylvain was sure he could see the steam rising from the blonde’s head and honestly he felt a little bad for the poor prince but there was no way he could hold back his laughter. “Hahaha! I knew it, you always did have a powerful stomach.” “I-I cannot help it. I do not see what is so funny.” The prince pouted, taking his arm from his face and using it to hug his belly tightly. “I am famished.” The swordsman sighed and clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Seriously?! Your stomach woke us up? I’m going back to sleep. Keep the damn thing down.” “I am sorry Felix…” Dimitri sighed and the three tried to once again get some sleep. No luck. Dimitri’s belly had become more and more active by the minute. His stomach’s verbal complaints coupled with his pained moans and whimpers were ensuring that none of the three got any sleep that night. “God damn it! I told you to keep your damn stomach quiet Boar prince!” Felix yelled when he decidedly couldn’t cope with the increasingly loud noises anymore. “I c-cannot s-s-stop them.” The prince stuttered softly. Sylvain sighed. There was one thing he could do to try and help. He remembered back to a time where the three of them were younger. Dimitri always had problems like this. His father Lambert was much the same, no doubt he had inherited that trait. The red head recalled a time where King Lambert‘s stomach had once shook the plates and cutlery on his tablet at a banquet he held. He had laughed it off and made a joke of it but Dimitri had spent the entire afternoon trying to convince Ingrid, Sylvain and Felix that he could do the same after a young Felix (still with a glint in his eye and admiration for Dimitri) had asked if he could. Of course he couldn’t actually copy his father at the time but there was no doubt he probably could now. “Hmmmm...” Sylvain sat up and kneeled by the prince’s side. “Let me try something.” “W-what are you going to do? Surely you cannot believe that you could st-stop this incessant rumbling?” “I may be able to do just that.” The lancer reached his hand under Dimitri’s back and undid his metallic, abdominal armour plate much to the prince’s embarrassment and Felix’s disgust. He placed his hand upon Dimitri’s abdomen and slid it under his clothes. “W-what are you doing Sylvain!?” The prince shrieked in embarrassment. “Relax, I used to do this all the time, do you remember?” He could feel the deep, rumbling groans vibrate through the prince’s organs and muscle and on his own hand. Little tremors, an aftershock of an earthquake. After waiting a moment, Sylvain began to press, rubbing deep circles into Dimitri’s empty, concave stomach. “O-Oh my…” The prince flushed and threw a hand to his mouth in a feeble attempt to hide away. Sylvain chuckled. “See it’s helping right?” “Why are you doing something like that?” Felix scoffed. “It’s not appropriate.” “C’mon I can’t be the only one that remembers. When we were young we used to sneak out with Ingrid to go and look at the stars on the castle grounds when we visited. That one time Dimitri was starving, he missed a meal because he was training so hard and forgot. His belly wouldn’t stop grumbling so I massaged it like this to ease the pain. It worked and if I recall Felix, you asked me to do the same to you.” “I had..F-forgotten” Dimitri mumbled. “I did not!” Felix retorted.” “Yeah you did! You were like “Sylvain my tummy hurts, rub mine too!”” A blush shot to the swordsman’s cheeks as he remembered. It had happened. It had and it was wholly embarrassing. “Sh-shut up!” Felix blushed and once again lay away from the others. Sylvain and Dimitri both chuckled at that. The red head rubbed and kneaded the prince’s stomach as it gurgled and moaned, favouring two hands now instead of just the one. “Hush now, I know you’re empty. My belly is too.” Cooed the lancer to Dimitri’s stomach. “P-please do not talk to my stomach like it is a misbehaved child.” “It’s not misbehaving, just hungry and complaining a whole lot.”  “Even so..” A moment passed and Sylvain could feel some form of pressure in the prince’s stomach just under his ribs and began massaging that space too. “S-sylvain d-don’t” Dimitri moaned causing the other male to blush. Flustered, he pressed harder. “It’s s-sensitive there.” “Urk! D-don’t moan like that! People could get the wrong idea.” Second hand embarrassment set in and Sylvain massaged harder to snap himself out of it. “I can’t stop, I need to loosen this knot. I think that’s what’s causing the pain.” “B-but I..” “No buts just- Oh! I think i’ve got it!” “S-Sylvain No I-!”

*GRROOOOOAARARRRRRRRR!!!!!!*

The loudest groan yet erupted from the prince’s stomach as his friend loosened the knot in his belly. Dimitri and Sylvain both were too embarrassed to say anything for the moment. “......” “......” “W-wow…..” Gulped Sylvain. “I told you I thought I had it. Feeling better?” He asked with a smile, patting the belly before him, it still visibly shook from the aftershock of that monstrous groan. “Much….I….T-thank you…” Blushed the prince. It did indeed feel much better. Sylvain always did have the magic touch. It wouldn’t stop his stomach from moaning but it would keep it quiet and alleviate the pain. “No problem~ Though do wish we had some food to stuff ourselves with instead.” Dimitri’s mouth began to water at the thought of a feast and he retaliated by wiping away the saliva with his sleeve. It was best to not think of such things lest he set his stomach off groaning again. “Don’t talk about food.” Felix moaned, his eyes closed, arms wrapped around his belly. “Awh why? Are you hungry too Felix? Am I making your stomach growl?” Sylvain teased.

*Grrrruglee*

“Urk….” The swordsman flinched, his blush returning to his face, grateful for the fact he was facing away. “Haha! I knew it. Want me to rub your ‘tummy’ better too?” “G-get lost will you! Just go to sleep.” “Haha suit yourself~ I think we’ll do just that.” “Yes.” Dimitri agreed. “Sleep sounds good at this moment. Goodnight.” “G’night.” “.....hmph.” Perhaps it would be a restful night after all.

[iisuya-simps]

Coffee shop au (Doppo x Reader)

A/N: decided to do a little scenario for the birthday boy Doppo! Hope yall enjoy :)

Word count: 1798

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You were a literature student at university. Every morning you see this man come into the coffee shop around 8 o clock. 'Poor thing, always looks so tired and rundown.'

One morning was particularly busy. You overheard his order from one of his many visits and decided to pay for it. He comes in an hour later frantically looking around, wondering if he should leave the line. One of the employees waves him down and gives him his order. That lady over there paid for your coffee. He looks completely baffled and turns to see you waving. He thanks the barista and walks to your table.

"Hi um, thanks for paying for my coffee miss." He scratches the back of his head nervously. "No problem. My name is Y/N by the way." You extend your hand to shake his. "Oh! I'm Doppo." "It was busy today and I figured you always look so busy." His eyes widened. "You can tell from just that huh?" You nod. "Well, it's true I don't have much time to myself outside of work..."

"What do you do? Oh, I'm a salaryman." "Ah, I see. Must be pretty tiresome work." "It would be alright if my boss didn't give me so much to do." His fists clenched. "Oh, I'm sorry for rambling." "It's alright." "I actually have to get going. I can already feel my work piling up." He shoots you a bemused grin.

"It was nice talking to you." "Would you have time to chat over coffee on the weekend? Seems like you have a lot more to say." "Maybe! Uh, I'll be back tomorrow." "Alright, see you." He waves and scurries out of the cafe. "What an odd guy. I hope he's not overdoing himself too hard..." You continue your writing.

The next day Doppo joins you for coffee. "So Mr. salaryman, how goes life?" You sit down at the same table you were at yesterday. "Oh uh, I'm kind of always on the go." "Do you have any hobbies?" "Well, I do have a few houseplants. I keep a bunch of cute little succulents around my place like a salad bowl, giant velvet rose, it's actually just a small one, and a tiny cactus-" He stops there because he feels the conversation dragging.

"What about friends?" "Hifumi has been my friend since elementary school. Despite everything, I'm glad he's still around." "That's nice to hear." You smile. "Oh! I've been so busy talking about myself I never asked about you." " Well, there's not much to know." "Nonsense, what do you do? I saw you with your laptop yesterday." "I'm a literature student at ___ University." "So you're a writer? That's pretty interesting."

Over the next few months, you became fast friends. Doppo would join you in the morning for coffee and a small chat then dash to work.

(Insert clever transition here)

"Doppooo." You call out to him and wave your hand in front of his face. "Doppo?" He snaps back into reality. "Hmm? What is it y/n?" "Are you alright?" "I'm f-fine. Why do you ask?" You shake your head. "It's ok to have a break every now and then y'know. You've been spacing out all day." "Yeah, sorry y/n. I guess I just have a lot on my mind." "Why don't we do something?"

"Would you like to go out? Hang out I mean! Somewhere else! Anywhere! You can choose!" "Hmm, I think a walk would do us both some good." "Uh yeah s-sure." Doppo sweats a little.

"Hey uh y/n, I'm not a very athletic person as you can probably tell..." "That's alright, It doesn't have to be a long one. Why don't we just walk down to the park at our own pace?" "Oh, o-ok sure."

Leaving the cafe you walk about 15 minutes to the nearest park and sit down on a nearby bench. You turn to face him. "I'm worried about you Doppo. Are you taking care of yourself?" "I'm just hanging on like I always do..." He gives a nervous chuckle. "You didn't answer my question." He hangs his head and sighs. "What's the point?" "The point is your wellbeing Doppo. Here." You pat your lap. "Just take a little rest. "N-no I shouldn't-" "I don't mind." Hesitantly he lays down on the bench and rests his head on your lap, blushing.

It didn't take long for him to immediately fall asleep on your lap. You laugh to yourself. 'He looks so peaceful like this, just like a cute little man child.' You carefully stroke his hair making sure not to wake him up. A small blush forming on your cheeks.

After a while, he awakes and rolls over. His sleepy teal-blue eyes meeting yours.

"Y-y/n!" He sits up abruptly, a bright red blush flooding his cheeks. "I-I'm so sorry! How long was I asleep?" "Not long, you could have napped longer if you wanted to. It looks like you needed the sleep." "Erm, yeah. thank you." His cheeks still burning red. "You can lay back down if you want. You still have a few hours before you have to go to work right?" He considers, thinking how comfortable your thighs were cradling his head. "I-I don't want to be a bother..." "Just lay on my shoulder then. We can both take a nap." "Okay."

Doppo leans on your shoulder and closes his eyes hoping that you didn't notice his quickening heartbeat. Resting your head on his crimson locks you close your eyes and fall asleep into a short slumber together.

t-t-t-transition---------

"What would you like to eat?" "Anything, I'm starving." You giggle. "I was going to make some omurice~" He visibly perks up. "I'd like that very much." "Omurice it is! Topped with some cilantro." You lick your lips. "U-um. No cilantro for me thank you..." he winced trying not to gag.

"Oh no, you have the cilantro hating gene, don't you?" "Yeah, it kinda tastes like soap." You dramatically toss your hand to your forehead. "That's so tragic. I wish your taste buds could appreciate the fresh springy sprigs that are cilantro. But alas! I'll just top it off with chives."

"Y-you can have cilantro! It's not a problem if you want to!" "I don't want to make you sick with the aroma." "I'll be fine as long as I don't eat it! Really!!" "Ok ok. I'll do both." "Do you want some help? Omurice is one of the only things I can make..." his head hangs a little. "Sure! I could always use some help chopping some veggies."

You were coming over to Doppos place every weekend now to make sure he was eating well and getting enough sleep.

After prepping the vegetables and cooking the rice, you dice up some chicken and mix in the vegetables and spices, also adding some ketchup. Then whisking an egg with a little milk you cook the omelette and add the chicken, veggies and rice. Folding the egg over you make a little ketchup smiley face with dimples on the side of his plate and top it off with some chives. Then do the same with yours.

"Here you go!" Doppo's eyes light up when you hand him the plate. "Waaaah, it looks so professional! Let's dig in!" You watch as he smiles while eating, savouring every bite. "Oh y/n this is so good." "Thank yourself, you helped make it too." You smile. "Yes but mine never tastes this good. It must be something you did!" "You'd be surprised what difference a little salt and pepper can make."

You both watched a show while eating, Doppo went back for seconds.

"Thank you for the delicious meal y/n. You've been doing a lot for me, I appreciate it." "Of course! I'll always try and be there for you when you need me." "Would you really?" Doppo's palms get sweaty as he turns to you with his head down. "Would it be so wrong to think that there's something between us? I-I know I'm a pessimist and an overall mess. You basically take care of me like I'm your kid- Oh, who am I kidding you don't want me... I'm a ball of anxiety and-" you put a finger to his lips and he blushes immediately.

"I like you too, Doppo." You smile. "Y-you do?" He sighs visibly relaxing. "I thought I really blew it there... but I'm glad you feel the same." You place your hand over his. "I care about you Doppo."

After a few more shows and an awkward silent stroll, Doppo walks you back over to your place and says goodnight.

"Thanks for everything y/n." Knowing he wouldn't be the one to make the first move (in this case anyway) you lean over and kiss him on the cheek. He looked so cute with his flustered expression and blushed cheeks. "Night Doppo."

When you lay down on your bed for the night your heart races and butterflies dance in your stomach. Then your phone pings from your nightstand.

"I had a really great time today! Not like I don't any other time! But today was special! The texts came flooding in one after the other. You beam and reply "Yes today was fun. Now please get some sleep. You need it." "I'll try!"

Epilogue I guess---------

Even though you move in with Doppo quite quickly it turns out to be the best thing for the both of you. He does his best to look out for you and you look out for him.

In the morning you both wake up, he boils water for coffee and you make breakfast. You'll still visit the coffee shop every now and then, but there's nothing quite like having breakfast in bed with your partner.

You always call him during lunch and inbetween to make sure he doesn't forget to eat. When he comes home he'll help you with meal prep if he's not too exhausted. Then you'll eat dinner in front of the tv and watch a show.

After dinner, you both wash and dry the dishes then sit down on the couch and cuddle. On a good day, you watch a few episodes of your favorite show together. But on an exhausting day, Doppo falls asleep within the first 10 minutes. But you don't mind. You simply flip the station and admire his sweet peaceful face as he lays his head on your shoulder.

If it's late you wake him up with head pats and guide him to bed in a half-asleep stupor joining him soon. When you're in bed he always has one arm around you. Usually, your back to his front or the both of you facing each other in an embrace until you wake and the cycle begins anew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading!

[sunsetcurveofficial]

So with the prompt thing, can you do the bedhead one with Ruke? Would much appreciate it lol

oh my god. i am SO sorry, love. i swear i did not mean to ignore you. tumblr must have eaten your message, because i genuinely did not see it until today. here it is, though, and it’s extra long to make up for it. hope you like it. xx

also available on ao3

“Your bed head is really cute.”

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

Luke has always had messy hair. No matter how often he tries to fix it throughout the day, somehow a few minutes later it always looks dishevelled again. But here’s the thing. Reggie loves Luke’s messy hair. He would never admit it, of course, but the messier Luke’s hair is, the more he enjoys watching him. So, naturally, he’s also taken it upon himself to ruffle it whenever he gets a chance. Luke always swats his hands away, shoves him, and glares as he tries to fix it again, but Reggie merely laughs and definitely does not think about how cute Luke looks. Luke is his friend and Reggie loves messing with him. That’s all, honestly. It’s all fun and games until Reggie wakes up next to him for the first time, anyway. 

His parents were fighting again, so Reggie snuck out in the middle of the night and showed up at the first place that came to mind. Luke’s. And Luke hugged him, didn’t make him talk, and they listened to music together until they fell asleep. Together. In Luke’s bed. 

So, Reggie is a little disoriented when he wakes up with his head somehow nestled under Luke’s arm, one of his own slung around his friend’s waist. He feels something flutter in his chest when he realises, and it gets even worse when he notices how warm and comfortable he is. He never thought about sharing a bed with Luke before, and much less waking up next to him, but he finds that he actually made it through without any nightmares for once, instead feeling like he is exactly where he should be, which hasn’t happened in a very long time. It’s nice. 

Luke blinks his eyes open shortly after, grinning the moment he spots Reggie, who still has his face squished against a pillow under Luke’s arm. He hasn’t removed his own arm from Luke’s body either. 

“Morning, bro,” Luke says around a yawn, reaching out to flick Reggie’s nose. He scrunches it up, wiping a hand over it when Luke draws his hand back and laughs. He sits up to look at the time, and Reggie follows suit, his arm dropping from Luke’s waist, albeit a little regrettably. His eyes wander over his friend as Luke turns back to him to inform him that it’s just past 10am, and he can’t help it. He giggles delightedly as he takes in the way Luke’s hair looks even wilder than he has ever seen it before. Not even after a gig. It’s standing up in every direction, the strands falling into his eyes and looking twice as voluminous as usual. He looks adorable. Reggie does realise that’s an odd thought to have about your bro, but he can’t help it. 

Luke frowns, self-consciously scratching at the back of head as Reggie keeps eyeing him, giggles erupting from his chest. 

“What?” Luke asks, running a hand over his mouth. “Did I drool in my sleep or something?” 

Reggie shakes his head. 

“No. Sorry. It’s just… your bed head is really cute.” 

He blushes the moment the words leave his mouth and he can’t believe he actually said that. Surely Luke will never let him live that one down. Luke’s blush is almost more adorable than his bed hair, and Reggie figures he should probably have a good think about what exactly it is he’s feeling for Luke. It’s not normal to find your best bro quite so cute, is it? 

“Cute?” Luke asks, voice so high pitched it almost sounds like a shriek. “I’m not cute.” He pouts. 

Reggie can’t help it. How is he supposed to just shrug it off when Luke is sitting right there next to him looking like a kicked puppy that is most certainly cute, even if he tries to be all cool and intimidating most of the time. 

“Duh huh. Yeah, you are,” Reggie says, because now that it’s out he might as well just roll with it. 

“Am not,” Luke insists, and Reggie kind of really wants to kiss the pout off his face. Okay, right. He definitely needs to talk to Alex. 

In hindsight, Reggie really doesn’t know why he does it. He’s not even that impulsive of a person. If anything, Luke is the impulsive one of the two. And he’s a little horrified at himself when he leans in and kisses the tip of Luke’s nose. He blushes when he draws back, and kind of wants the ground to swallow him whole, but Luke looks so startled, his beautiful eyes so wide and his cheeks so red that Reggie feels a little comforted and manages to shrug it off with a grin. He’s done it, he can’t take it back, so he might as well pretend to be confident about it. 

Luke keeps sitting there mumbling something like “What the hell, bro?” under his breath and stares at him even as Reggie gets dressed. He really needs to talk to Alex. 

“You can close your mouth now, Luke. Otherwise you might accidentally swallow a fly or something,” Reggie says with a grin, running a hand through his hair in front of the mirror to fix his own bed head. Luke does close his mouth, but keeps sitting there looking flustered. Reggie has never seen him like that before, and it does all sorts of funny things to his chest. The mighty Luke Patterson, finally brought to his knees by Reggie Peter’s strange new impulsiveness. Huh. 

“I’m gonna go meet Alex. See you later, babe,” Reggie tells him, and he swears Luke’s jaw drops right open again. Babe? Honestly, Reggie is on fire today. 

+++

“Reg? What are you doing here? It’s 11am!” Alex says when he opens the door. Reggie half walked, half ran to get to his house, so he feels slightly out of breath. He thinks he probably looks a little disheveled as well, if Alex’s worried look is anything to go by. 

“Are you okay? Did something happen?” 

“Not sure,” Reggie manages to say, panting a little. “Maybe?” 

Alex narrows his eyes at him.

“Okay? Well, come in. We can talk in my room.” 

He leads Reggie inside and up to his room. Reggie feels the questions bubbling under his skin, itching to get out, so he jumps right into it as soon as Alex’s door is closed behind them. 

“Do you think Luke’s messy hair is cute?” he asks. Alex looks a little taken aback, a faint blush growing on his cheeks. 

“I mean… yeah? It’s cute enough. Why?” 

“Because I think it’s cute. But that’s not normal, is it? I mean, I think about it constantly. And this morning I woke up next to him because my parents fought last night, and— have you seen his bed head?” 

Alex tilts his head, something like recognition reaching his eyes as he watches Reggie pace as he keeps rambling about Luke’s hair. Reggie pauses for a moment to frown at him, but jumps right back in when the itching gets too bad. “So, I told him it’s cute. And I don’t know why I did that, because it’s weird, right? And Luke pouted, you know, that adorable puppy pout of his? Well, and then I found myself thinking that I would very much like to kiss it off, and that’s— I mean, that can’t be— What does it mean, Alex? I’m kinda freaking out a little bit.” 

Alex snorts, and his frown is replaced by an amused look and a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Reggie finds it a little irritating. Alex should just tell him what it all means instead of smiling like he knows something Reggie doesn’t. 

“I can see that,” Alex says dryly. Reggie wants to kick him. “Well, Reg. It sounds like you got a crush on Luke, dude.” 

Reggie doesn’t have a crush on Luke. Luke is not a girl. Therefore Reggie can’t have a crush on him. Can he? No, wait. That’s a stupid thought to have. Alex is a boy who exclusively has crushes on other boys. Reggie thinks it over for a moment. He remembers Luke’s hair. He remembers sleeping in his arms. He remembers his pout, and his big hazel eyes. He also remembers his voice, and the way he gets all excited when he writes music. Or worse, when he plays his guitar on stage. Okay. So he does have a crush on Luke. That’s new. And interesting.

“Oh,” he says. “I have a crush on Luke? Oh my god! I have a crush on Luke! I’m gay, too?” 

Alex chuckles fondly. Reggie is a little offended about his amusement while he’s having a sexuality crisis, thank you very much. 

“I don’t think you are, bro. You still like girls, don’t you?” 

Reggie thinks that over for a moment as well and comes to the conclusion that yes, he definitely does. 

“Yes. But how can that…?” 

Alex shrugs. 

“You can like whoever you want, Reg. Like Bowie. He says he’s bisexual, because he likes both men and women.” 

Reggie’s eyes light up. Like Bowie? He’s like David Bowie? Well, that’s pretty neat, he thinks. 

“I didn’t even know that was a thing!” he says, smiling delightedly. “I’d love to be more like Bowie. Ha! Bowie, man!” 

Alex smiles happily, getting up from his bed to pull Reggie into a hug. 

“I’m glad you told me, bro. Finally someone to talk about boys with!” 

Reggie laughs. He likes that prospect. 

“Oh my god! Yes. Thank you for helping me figure it out, Alex. I’m a little terrified, I think, but it’s cool. I’ve got you.” 

Alex shoves him playfully, his eyes searching Reggie’s as he puts his knowing grin back on. 

“So what are you gonna do about Luke?” he asks. In his excitement, Reggie has almost forgotten about him. Even though Luke is the sole reason why he’s at Alex’s in the first place, and Luke generally doesn’t have a tendency to leave Reggie’s mind for extended periods of time.

“Luke! That’s right. Oh. Well… you think he might like me back?” 

Reggie isn’t so sure. They couldn’t all like boys, could they? He isn’t sure why he thinks that, though. And Luke blushed rather adorably earlier, after all. 

“I think your chances are better than you think,” Alex says, and Reggie swears he knows something he doesn’t again, “You gotta tell him, dude!” 

Reggie hums. 

“I mean… he did get really flustered when I accidentally kissed him on the nose this morning,” he muses. Alex raises his eyebrows at him. 

“You accidentally…” He snorts. “Only you, Reg.” 

+++

Luke is already at the studio when Reggie arrives for practice that afternoon. Alex and Bobby aren’t there yet, and Luke blushes the moment he sees Reggie. Grinning, Reggie walks right over to him and presses a smooch to his cheek. 

“Hi, babe,” he says casually. Luke visibly splutters, looking even more flustered than he did in the morning, and Reggie absolutely revels in it. 

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Luke squeaks, nearly dropping his guitar as he tries to place it on its stand. Reggie shrugs. 

“Because I like it. And you are. A babe, I mean.” 

Luke looks like his head is about to explode, he’s blushing that hard. It’s the funniest thing Reggie has ever seen, because Luke Patterson is nothing if not confident. His nonchalance, however, is nowhere to be found now. 

“Wh— what?” 

Reggie grins and steps closer, right into Luke’s space. Their noses are almost touching, and Luke’s eyes are impossibly wide when Reggie meets them. He can feel his breath on his lips. 

“Would you mind if I kissed you?” he asks. He doesn’t know when he became the confident one between the two, but he’s enjoying it way more than he should, probably. 

“What?” Luke squeaks again, and Reggie really has to force himself to hold back until Luke gives his consent. Reggie doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “Why?” 

Reggie chuckles and nudges his nose against Luke’s. The other boy doesn’t back off, and he takes that as a good sign. 

“Because I like you, man. Very much so. And it’s not just because I think your bed head is cute, although that is a bonus.” 

Luke kisses him. Well, that was easier than he expected. Reggie’s hands come up to Luke’s hair as he kisses him back, starting out softly but quickly becoming a little more frantic as they’re both pushing and pulling at each other. It seems that Luke is regaining his confidence, and Reggie likes that just as much as he likes him all flustered. 

“You haven’t seen your bed head, babe,” Luke breathes as he pulls away after what feels like a blissful eternity. Luke emphasises the pet name, and Reggie chuckles, feeling himself blush a little for change today. 

“So, are we in love, then?” Reggie asks bluntly. He figures there is no point in beating around the bush. The more he looks at Luke looking all kissed and dishevelled, especially his hair that Reggie managed to mess up just perfectly, the more he knows that he is so in love with his best friend, and he doesn’t understand why he didn’t realise it before. 

Luke laughs out loud, looking fond as he reaches out to pat Reggie’s cheek. 

“Yes, you dork. We are so in love.” 

And then he kisses him again, and it’s the best thing in the world. They only part when Alex and Bobby appear in the studio, one of them hooting while the other makes gagging noises. Reggie doesn’t care all that much. He keeps his eyes locked on Luke for the entirety of their rehearsal, his chest fluttering when he remembers why Luke’s hair looks especially messy today, and that he’s directly responsible for it. 

It’s even better when Luke meets his eyes and smiles back at him, though.

-   End.   - 

[tuanyiems]

Chocolate Dipped Strawberries

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 3.8k plot: during closing hours, you decide to teach your boyfriend a little bit about self-care, established relationship!au, valentines!au warnings – oral (m receiving), public sex, food play, cum play, super slight degradation, health code violations oops lol a/n – part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, your boyfriend, the chocolatier, was busier than ever. He’d go in early to ensure there was enough time and enough batches of decadent desserts to last throughout the day and then he would stay late, concocting new recipes and delicately hand wrapping boxes of chocolates in gold foil and red ribbons.

It was heartwarming, seeing the effort he put into his craft. You just wished it didn’t have to come at the cost of losing your boyfriend every time the holidays came around.

It’s midnight when you feel the other half of your bed sink in and Yugyeom’s sweet scent wafts around you. No matter how many showers he took, Yugyeom always smelled like chocolate. It was a trait you loved about him, nosing at his skin and sneaking inhales whenever you got the chance. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was made of chocolate.

You roll in your sheets, pout on your lips.

“Sorry, babe, did I wake you?” he whispers, slotting himself beside you, a familiar palm rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back.

You shake your head, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “It just feels like forever since I last saw you.”

“I know,” he lets out a sigh. “I miss you too. Just one more week and things will settle down.”

You frown, at the familiar words. He’s been telling you this almost every night this week. “Do you have to work so hard though?”

He smiles softly and even in the dark, you can tell there’s a glimmer in his eyes. “A little extra effort on my part can be a touch of magic for someone else. If my chocolates can give someone a little courage to speak what’s in their heart, or lift someone’s spirits at the end of a hard night, it’s worth it, don’t you think?”

You press a hand to his cheek, softly. Your pout easily melts into a smile of endearment.

You can tell he really means what he says. You think Yugyeom is magic, himself. He’s a chocolatier before he’s a businessman and he is a sweet and kind soul before anything else.

“Besides,” he adds, planting a kiss to your palm. “You had my peppermint chocolates and fell head over heels for me. I just want to do the same for someone else.”

You roll your eyes. “It wasn’t just the chocolates.”

“But it played a part,” he lifts a cocky brow and it makes you giggle. But it is too late in the night to be unraveling your love for this man. So, you place your heart in the kiss you plant on his lips and hopes it conveys the message.

“Maybe it played a small part,” you finally whisper, head sinking into the warmth of his chest. “But it’s definitely not in the top ten reasons why I fell for you.”

You can feel a soft rumble of his laugh against your ear.

“What’s in the top ten then?”

You respond with a gentle squeeze on his bicep and a quiet, “Go to sleep, Gyeom.”

-

When Valentine’s Day rolls around, Yugyeom calls your office phone telling you he’s keeping the store open late. You’re not surprised. You were expecting this to happen and you were glad his store was doing so well, but you can’t help feeling disappointed still.

While everyone in your office was talking about their dinner plans for tonight, all you could do was stir your coffee quietly.

“What’s with the long face?” Jackson teases you. “You act like you didn’t receive the biggest gift basket in the office.”

You smile back shyly. This morning Yugyeom had caused a huge ruckus at your workplace when he sent over a giant gift basket filled with roses and your favorite chocolates. You were grateful of course, but you would’ve traded the grand gesture for the man, himself, any day.

“Let me guess,” Jackson continues. “He’s hard at work today too?”

You nod, a small pout on your lips. “Which is to be expected. I wish I could at least be there with him though.”

Last year, Valentine’s Day fell on a weekend, so you were able to spend the whole day at the store with him. He was apologetic about spending your first ever Valentine’s Day like that, but you had had fun. You were surrounded by chocolates and love and Yugyeom. It was a perfect day.

“You still have the night together though,” Jackson sends you a playful wink and you blush, almost spilling your coffee at his teasing.

“B-but, he’s keeping the store open late,” you stutter, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Exactly, he’ll be tired. You should take care of him,” he looks at you with raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk.

“You don’t think…I’ll be a bother?”

Jackson only laughs, making you feel even more embarrassed. “Oh, Y/N, what are we going to do with you? I’ve only met Yugyeom a few times but even I know that boy if whipped for you.”

Your eyes widen and you make a face at your colleague. “I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around. You should’ve seen how I acted when we first met. I was a mess.”

“That’s not how Yugyeom told the story though.”

You shrug, looking genuinely puzzled. “Beats me, I keep telling him to get his eyes checked.”

Jackson laughs, shaking his head. “Trust me on this one, surprise him tonight! He’ll love it!”

You only shake your head, throwing a chocolate bar at him as he walks off. But Jackson’s advice lingers in your mind for the rest of the day.

-

When the cold February air hits your bare legs it sends a thrill of excitement up your spine. You curl into your winter coat, attempting to walk faster against the winter wind. You had been debating about whether or not to surprise him at the store or at the apartment but when Bambam called you about his own Valentine’s Day plans, you knew Yugyeom was going to be at the store alone.

A part of you was worried, although a part of you is almost always worried. The nervousness lingers in your belly even as you take hold of the door handle. Just as you expect, Yugyeom forgets to lock the door despite it being closing hours. The familiar bell dings as you step in and as you fumble with the locks on the entrance, something else ignites inside of you—excitement.

“Oh, sorry we’re closed!” Yugyeom’s frantic voice greets you.

You turn to him with a smile and when he sees you, his surprise melts into delight.

“You forgot to lock the door again,” you respond, in answer to his questioning eyes.

He let out a tired breath, running his fingers through his hair. “Maybe I was keeping it open for my pretty guest to arrive.”

You grin, walking behind the counter to take him into your arms. “I hope I’m not making her wait too long.”

He chuckles, pressing you to his chest. “She’s right here.”

You smile, pulling away to press a kiss to his lips. “How was work? Did you sell a lot?”

At your question, his eyes sparkle. “We sold out all of our heart boxes and premium chocolates. And just as you suggested, the chocolate dipped strawberries were a hit.”

“Aw, are those sold out too?”

Yugyeom lifts a brow, looking all too proud. “Of course, I saved you a batch!”

“My hero!” You cheer.

“Is that what you came here for?” He feigns a pout. “I’m almost finished here, and then we can go home together.”

“I didn’t come here just for chocolate strawberries—or, I mean…not at all actually.” You licked at your suddenly dry lips and Yugyeom arched his brows.

Of course, he was used to you stumbling over your words. After a year and four months since meeting you, he’s seen plenty of fumbling on your end. However, it’s been a while since your nervousness was directed at him.

He looks at you, a little apprehensive himself. “Is everything okay?”

You swallow, nodding strongly. Finally, you blurt, “It was your eye mole!...Not the chocolates.”

“Huh?” Yugyeom looks at you completely baffled now, but he’s smiling again.

“Last night! You said it was the peppermint chocolates. It was your eye mole. Actually, all your moles,” you ramble, feeling a heat creeping to your cheeks. “I like how they sit across your cheeks like constellations.”

Yugyeom slips his hands into the pockets of his red apron, shoulders relaxing as he looks down at your embarrassed face. “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

“That’s um,” you clear your throat, glancing down at the almost empty glass counter. “That’s reason number ten.”

Yugyeom breaks out into a smile, understanding finally dawning on him. “Top ten reasons why you like me?”

You look at him, a small, shy smile meeting his. “Number nine is when we cook together in the kitchen, and you can reach that stupid top cabinet made for giants.”

Yugyeom throws his head back, laughing.

Your eyes brighten and continuing, you tell him, “The eighth reason is how you eat like a 5-year-old.”

He looks at you fondly, leaning on the counter. “My fries are your fries, baby.”

You smile, taking a step closer so you can reach into his pocket. You pull his hand out, touching his fingers with yours. You look at his fingers for a moment, then down to his feet, and back up again.

“I like that even though your legs go on for days, you still walk at my pace.”

He rubs his thumb against your hand. “Reason six?”

You lift your head, grinning up at him. “Remember when we first started dating and I told you I hated being called baby?”

“Well that was an obvious lie though,” he answers easily.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I’m glad you called me baby anyways.”

“Because you’re my baby,” he tells you softly, fingers squeezing between yours.

“I love that you can read me like a book,” you whisper, leaning into him. “Even though I was a complete idiot in front of you, still am sometimes, you don’t hold it against me.”

“Never an idiot, only a cutie,” he chuckles, tucking a hair behind your ear.

“The third reason why I love you is because you put your whole heart into what you do.” You eye him with a slight pout. “Even though, sometimes it’s annoying when you’re still here when you should be with me.”

He looks at you apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“But I love that you’re a romantic and believe in making the world a better place.”

Yugyeom smiles bashfully at you. You think you even see a hint of rose coloring his cheeks.

“You make me want to do the same,” you confess.

“Yeah?”

You take in a deep breath, nodding slightly as you take a step back. “And, I want to start with you.”

Yugyeom looks at you curiously, but the question gets caught in his throat when your fingers come to the zipper of your winter coat. Underneath is a dusty rose, velvet dress, hanging just above your knees. To the unassuming eye, it is a fairly innocent dress for the holiday.

But you know better. You can see it in the way your boyfriend’s pupils expand, eyes growing dark as he swallows. Yugyeom loves the way this dress hugs your curves, the way he can peek into the valley of your chest when you’re standing right next to him like this. He loves running his fingers across your waist and pulling you into him, loves the way his dick feels when he’s rubbing himself raw against the soft fabric.

So, when you fold your coat and place it on the counter, all the while, batting your eyelashes up at him, you both know just how screwed he is.

You haven’t even touched him yet, but you can tell from the rising of his chest how wound up he is.

“You’ve been working so hard, baby,” you whisper, grabbing softly at the edge of his apron and tugging him towards you. “Let me take care of you.”

You pull him into you, tiptoeing until his lips meet yours. Tentative at first, like he is savoring the soft plush of your lips. When you break into the tiniest of whimpers, it clicks a switch in Yugyeom. Tangling his tongue around yours, you lose track of your thoughts. All you can feel are his hands palming against you, kneading at the velvet covering your breasts. When you push yourself harder into him, you can feel his hardness press into your thigh through the fabric of his apron and jeans.

“Let’s get this off,” you smile up at him, undoing the strings of his apron. He bites his lip, lids heavy. It’s wrong how innocent you look while palming him through his jeans. When you giggle softly and slip his belt out of its loops, it brings a guttural sound from his throat.

You pause, lifting a brow at him.

He whispers you name, pouting. He looks so cute, you almost forget your plans to ruin him. But the twitch of his bulge beneath your palm reminds you otherwise and brings another devious smile to your lips.

“You said you saved some treats for us?”

The hitch in his throat is the only answer you need. When you come back from the kitchen, two bowls of strawberries and melted chocolate in your arms, he almost loses the strength in his legs. You stop in front of him, putting the bowls on the counter.

“Let’s get you more comfortable, huh?” you suggest, slipping your fingers into his jeans.

“Babe,” he sucks in, feeling your cold fingers over his boxers.

You smirk, pressing your lips to his throat. “Shh, let me take care of you.”

“W-we’re in public,” he whispers but you notice that he makes no move to stop your hands from tugging his jeans past his ass.

“I know,” you smile, pressing yourself closer into him. You wrap your fingers around his clothed cock and feel him twitch. “And you like it, don’t you? You nasty boy, you want someone to see us through the windows, don’t you?”

You dip a finger into the bowl of chocolate and wipe it across his lips before slipping it past his mouth. You can feel your own arousal pooling in your panties when his warm tongue wraps around you, lapping at your finger like a hungry puppy.

With your free hand, you tug at his boxers until his cock springs free. You can’t help the moan that escapes you when you wrap your hand around his hot member. The tip is already red and glistening with precum.

“Look at you, Gyeom,” you breathe out and he sucks on your finger harder. “You’re already so hard just thinking about someone walking in on us. Let them see how you make me feel when I’m choking on you.”

“God,” he groans, pulling your hand away to kiss you roughly, sucking on your bottom lip until it stings. He yanks the flimsy straps of your dress off your shoulder and the rosy fabric falls to your waist, showcasing your bare chest, already stiff with arousal.

He kisses down your throat, sucking until purple blossoms across your skin. You moan, too distracted by the excitement of his fingers massaging your nipples to care about the bruises you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. When he leans down to suck at one of your nipples, you both moan in unison—you, from the electric feeling of his tongue on you and him, from the way he rubs his dick into the scrunched fabric at your waist.

Everything is so soft and warm, it makes Yugyeom feel lightheaded. He loves the way you turn into putty in his arms, how soft your boobs feel in his hands, how easily your nipples go hard around his tongue. He loves how your shiver from the way he rubs himself into you, how fucking heavenly this dress feels against his cock. Thinks he could cum just like this.

You’re so worked up too, you almost forget why you came all the way here.

“Gyeom,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair before reluctantly, pushing his head away. He groans in response, rutting against your thigh a final time before looking back at you with lidded eyes. You take a strawberry and hold it up for him to bite into and with the strawberry in his mouth, you sink down to your knees.

“It’s my time for dessert,” you smile up at him, taking the bowl of melted chocolates down with you.

Dipping your fingers into the chocolate, you keep your eyes on Yugyeom as you suck on one of your digits, letting the rest of the chocolate drip down your chin and onto the valley of your breasts.

You chuckle when he moans, running his fingers through your hair.

“Babe, you’re killing me,” he mutters, pushing your head lightly towards him.

You hum, teasingly, pressing another finger into your mouth and moaning at the sweetness on your tongue.

“Please,” he stutters, his cock twitching desperately.

You giggle, looking up at Yugyeom. He looks so wrecked and you haven’t even done anything to him yet. Deciding to spare him, you dip your hand in the chocolate again and hover it above him. You smile in satisfaction, watching as the chocolate drips down the red tip of his cock and down the protruding veins of his cock.

“Fuck,” Yugyeom whispers, eyes dilating when you lick your lips. “Babe.”

Finally, you take him into your mouth, licking tentatively at his tip before pulling away again. His sigh leaves him as a half-whine, half-cry. You hold in your laugh though Yugyeom notices your shit eating grin anyways. But before he can complain, you grab onto his thigh for support and begin lick up the mess you made.

Yugyeom groans when your mouth is back on him, licking him all over like a desperate kitten. He runs his fingers through your hair, eyes glancing up. He had dimmed the lights of the store before you arrived but the streetlamp in front of the store shines through the window regardless. He wonders if anyone can see you behind the glass counter. The bopping of the top of your head leaves little to the imagination.

He smiles down at you when you moan around his cock, tongue running a stripe up chocolate-covered veins. How did he get this lucky? Your tongue feels so soft around his dick and the chocolate smeared messily around your lips makes him want to do even dirtier things to you.

“You’re so good, baby,” he says and watches you glow at the compliment.

“You taste delicious,” you whisper, cheeks pink.

Yugyeom thinks you almost look like your shy self again. The thought is quickly wiped from his mind when you dip down, wrapping your small fingers around him eagerly. He almost chokes on his own spit when you lick at the chocolate dripping off his balls before sucking it into your mouth entirely.

“Fuck!” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut as you suck on his balls, massaging him in your mouth as your fingers tease at his tip, rubbing the precum leaking from his slit and smoothing it down his pulsating cock.

You whimper eagerly when he tightens his grip in your hair and pulls you. You let go of his balls with a light pop.

“Enough,” he says darkly, and you feel your own arousal leaking down your thighs. His grip on your scalp is tight but the sting only succeeds in sending another tingle down to your core. He pushes you closer until his dick is slapping you across the cheek.

“Look at you,” he chuckles lowly when the residue of chocolate, saliva, and precum mark both sides of your cheek.

You stick out your tongue in response, catching a fleeting taste of him every time he slaps himself across your cheek.

“Such a pretty little cumslut,” he smirks. “You love me so much?”

“I do,” you whine and despite himself, Yugyeom flushes.

He lets go of your hair before taking a hold of his cock. He lines his tip to your lip. “Then open up, baby.”

You don’t hesitate, sucking all of him in. The saltiness of his precum mixes with the lingering chocolate on your tongue and makes you moan. You love his taste on your tongue, love how he fills your mouth. You take him deeper, eliciting another moan from his lips.

You mouth is so soft and hot around him and the vibration of your moans feels heavenly. When your fingers come up to massage his balls, he almost loses it, rutting himself harder into your mouth.

It takes you by surprise, but you take him in stride, taking in a deep breath of his heady scent and allowing him deeper into your throat.

Yugyeom curses, feeling his thighs tense as you take in all of him. You look so beautiful like this, tears streaming down your dirty cheeks as his cock hits the back of your throat. When you swallow around his cock, he loses it.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me,” he groans, fisting around your hair and thrusting harder into your mouth. “I love you so much!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hallowing your cheeks. When you squeeze around his thighs, the shaking of his legs fills you with pride.

You almost whine when he pulls out of your mouth.

“Baby,” Yugyeom whines, one hand on the back of your head while the other rubs desperately at his dick. “Baby.”

“Cum on my face,” you answer for him, eyes still teary when you smile up at him before sticking your tongue out.

“Fu-” the swear quickly leaves Yugyeom as a whine as he cums onto your face. The hot, white cum hits your face in two spurts and then another across your chest.

You grin wickedly, licking his tip clean until it is too much for Yugyeom and he pulls away. You giggle wiping at the cum dripping down your cheek and pop it between your lips.

Yugyeom can only sigh, shaking his head in disbelief as he helps you back up to your feet. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You grin, dipping a strawberry into chocolate and popping it into your mouth. “I know!”

[bellatrixxue]

Xue’s Supernatural Dare: Wendigo (S1 EP2)

Hello, everyone? How did everyone feel about the finale? Yes? Yes? Oh. Oh. Oh my. Oh, dear.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell that half-assed homophobic chicken-shit fuckbucket’s not gonna stop me, since I strapped myself onto this roller coaster already and I promised I’m not getting out until the ride’s over, so here we go, wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Also, those who are in this roller coaster with me, ready? Tag list is: @fangirlxwritesx67​ @amazingiam00​ @kalliravenne​ @indecisive20something​ @2musiclover2​ @impossibletosleepthrough @there-must-be-a-lock​ @wingedcatninja​ @arvit​

Oh my gods this recap is so cheesy I actually can make a fondue out of it. 2000s, everybody!

A WHOLE MINUTE AND A HALF FOR THAT FONDUE

FUCKJUMPSCARETITLEFUCKYOU

So we’re starting the episode with the murder scene first, eh? Is that gonna be a trend?

Oh come on, Chads, you’re out in nature and you’re playing video games? Absorb the nature...before it absorbs you!

Waitwait. Holy shit is that...is that Cory Monteith? Oh, bless his soul...

If the wendigo eats his dick as he’s peeing I’m immediately giving Jensen Ackles $100. For no real reason, I just feel like giving him money for already carrying the show on his back.

I can’t tell if it did or not, so I’m not paying yet.

Aw, Sammy...

"I should have told you the truth.” *Vine voice* BUT YOU DIDN’T

FUCKYOUINTHEASSHOhnightmare. Nightmare. So did he visit her at her grave or not? I need answers.

A week? Goddamn. Poor thing. That man-eating tree’s fucking good at his job, man.

“There’s nothing there, it’s just...woods,” Sam, I don’t know if Jess’s death hit you hard or if you got into law school by eating some ancient dick and/or pussy instead of earning that high score fair and square, but the woods “in the middle of nowhere” (your words) are known to be one of the top places full of weird-ass creatures. Even kindergartners know that.

Ehehehehehehehehe he’s so smol next to his lil bro my lil shit

At least you’re coming up with decent covers this time. No Agent Mulder and Scully ruining things for you this time around.

“Bull” oop-

Oh Dean’s a smoooooooooth operator. Good going, buddy.

AND HE GOT A COPY OF THAT DOCUMENT TEAM DEAN TEAM DEAN

Oh that death really got to Sam. I hope he doesn’t turn out to be a trigger-happy psycho. Or eat the man-eating tree and become one himself.

Oh, Haley’s a cutie! Which one’s her brother? Cory? Discount Enrique Iglesias?

Do you have a card for EVERY profession, Dean? And how do I get them too?

That is a very pretty car. I bet they wasted half the budget on that thing.

Okay, sonny boy, little bro, Broseidon, calm down.

Ah, fuck, Haley and Broseidon is gonna go into the woods, that’s more heads to worry about.

How the fuck does Sam find information this fast? I’m impressed, I take five hours to get to one article for my research paper. Or maybe I’m just lazy. So he really earned his law school interview without having to eat dick and pussy, huh.

Every 23 years? What is this, Pennywise? Are we going to see the wendigo do his best Tim Curry do his best scary clown impression? Honk honk?

“Whatever that thing is, it can move.” And the sun rises on the East, Sammy. Why are you so smart and dumb at the same time? Is this his character trait? It might grow on me.

Ahhh, so Sam’s go-to move at interrogation is doing puppy dog eyes and sympathize with the person. He’d make a good lawyer, shame that man-eating tree.

Go Grandpa Exposition, go!

Go Grandpa Exposition, go, give us information and none at all!

OH GEEZ THAT SCAR. PENNYWISE WENDIGO IS VICIOUS.

Skinwalker, Back Dog...Ooh, those all sound cool! I hope we get to see them soon!

‘Corporeal’ doesn’t sound like a real word, but then again, English doesn’t sound like a real language. Sorry. Moving on.

Sam’s gonna eat the wendigo with that attitude, Jesus Christ.

AND HIS BROTHER, AT THIS RATE. If the real villain turns out to be inside Sam all along I’m gonna flip. Is that why women keep dying and burning on ceilings where he sleeps? Is he secretly Lucifer’s spawn or something?

“Oh sweetheart I don’t wear shorts”. They queer-coded him from the start and they tried to make you believe he was straight for fifteen seasons straight? And some people bought that?

Oh, crap, another crappy death treatment for Cory before he got into Glee...No, I wasn’t into Glee, I just watched a few episodes and I might hate Rachel Berry...And Lea Michele...ahem...

Dean is totally flirting with Roy shut upppppppp

OOP AND THERE ROY GOES OH THE SEXUAL TENSION IS HIGH IN THESE WOODS TODAY

“It’s probably the most honest I’ve been with a woman. Ever.” See. Bi. Bi bi bi.

So...why the coordinates, Daddy Negan? Is this a portal to Hell? A place where man-eating trees grow?

*carefully places death flag on Roy*

Ooooh the campsite is very...haunted house-y. You know what I’m saying?

That’s not Discount Enrique Iglesias, but Pennywise wendigo, yes? Those things can mimic human voices, right?

*Google searches*...There are so many versions of this tale I can’t even confirm or deny it. Dammit.

Maybe Pennywise wendigo just wants some snacks and a nice phone and GPS? Maybe he misses his family in uh, Canada or something?

Daddy Negan’s journal is  a e s t h e t i q u e .

I’m so sorry, but the way Sammy smirks as he speaks with those dark, dark voids for eyes? My boy’s a demon. He’s a demon, I’m telling you.

At least Haley has some sense to her. *puts another death flag on Roy*

*PUTS YET ANOTHER DEATH FLAG ON ROY*

True, that. What the heck is Daddy Negan up to with all of this?

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business!” Okay, the way Dean said it gave me chills.

I can actually empathize with Sam here...As whiny and bitchy as he is, he has his reasons to be this way. I guess if I were in his shoes, I’d be less of a Dean and more of a Sam, too. We deal with our losses quite similarly.

Ah, the brotherly bonding moments like these little talks make the show worth it. It’s so heartwarming.

Pennywise wendigo! I didn’t miss you, why’re you here to burst my happy bubble?

I’m starting to see a slight parallel between Haley and Broseidon and Dean and Sammy. Hmm.

Nice meeting you, Roy. Zoop you go.

Haley and Broseidon are taking this rather well, I’m glad they do.

Okay, actual exposition time, thank you.

Whoa, Broseidon speaks! Donner Party! Please don’t remind me of that! Those poor people!

Hibernation and food storage. Delightful, just delightful.

TORCHING? *CALLS RAMMSTEIN*

Somehow, not being able to see the wendigo is scarier to me than what I will probably see itself. Limited budget horror can actually work well.

Oh, dear, Roy literally did a death drop. Badum tissssssssss.

FUCK IT TOOK DEAN THE ONLY CHARACTER I CARE ABOUImean I love you too, Sam! Come on, let’s find him before it’s too late!

A trail of M&Ms! Yes, Broseidon! And Hansel and Gretel refercalled it. Sammy, you and I share the same wavelength?

SHITSHITTHEYTRIPPEDANDFELLINTHEFUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

Thank the gods the Pennywise wendigo kept them right there. Chances.

DISCOUNT ENRIQUE IGLESIAS IS STILL ALIVE GEEZ BUT ALSO PHEW

Ah, Dean Winchester, I love you so much that I can’t even begin to describe it.

Also how convenient that the flare guns are there. Deus ex machina!

Haley would bode well as a hunter, look at her courage, her will. There are more hunters around than Daddy Negan and the brothers, right?

Yeah, seeing the actual wendigo makes me less scared of it now. It’s unnerving, but still.

TEAM DEAN YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW

Graphics are...alright, but it’s the thought that counts!

Running with the grizzly bear story. Smart Broseidon. Ben. Sorry, you deserve to be called by your real name. I think with practice they could become good hunters, along with their Discount Enrique Iglesias brother! Is there a fanfiction for that? Can I write it now?

...

I AM WILLING TO DIE TO PROTECT DEAN WINCHESTER I

Haley’s a lesbian, that’s why she kissed him on the cheek only. Headcanoned. Also I have a crush on her, she’s really pretty? Like? Heart eyes???

Ah, the siblings parallels again. Let’s hope neither of the two brothers end up in the bed like that.

“Man, I hate camping.” Really. Really really. Really.

“I’m driving”

...

SAM WINCHESTER I’M SORRY I EVER SPOKE ILL OF YOU I WILL PROTECT YOU WITH MY LIFE TOO I PROMISE YOU I WILL

It’s just a sassy bisexual brother and his little snide bisexual brother on the road to kill evil creatures and find their father and I love this show? Help? Help???

I really, really see the charm of Supernatural now! I’m fully invested in both brothers and their story, and I’m cheering them both on! Let’s get Daddy Negan back and get rid of that man-eating tree once and for all!

Six stars out of five!

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This dare is introducing me to a whole new world, and I really, really am glad I took that jump a few days ago, man!

Thank you everyone for reading my ramblings, and I’ll see you in the day after with the next review! Thank you for sticking with me! Buh-bye!

- Xue

[kenganwritings]

To Myself

When Liu Dongcheng gets drunk, he tends to blurt out every single thing that came to his mind. Still, even after listening to his drunken rambles countless times before, this topic was not one Naidan expected.

[Naidan/Liu]

After many nights of going out drinking with Liu, Naidan was fairly certain that he knew when the man was drunk. His chipper demeanour would be magnified as soon as he was buzzed, and soon after, he’d be chattering non-stop about the most random topics. It took him a few more drinks after that to be sprawled out on the table, feebly clutching his glass in one hand, but Naidan was thankfully able to interject before that point today. Still, he took Liu home, keeping an eye on his intoxicated friend in case he did something that would get in trouble with the police.

That was how Naidan ended up sitting on the couch beside him, making sure Liu was drinking some water to get him out of his intoxicated state. “Well, it’s a good thing Nicholas didn’t come with us tonight. Or I would’ve been carrying you home.”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” Liu laughed, aiming a cheeky grin towards Naidan. “Don’t worry, you’ll have your chance the next time we have a drinking challenge. I gotta get my revenge on that bastard for cheating last week.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“But I will. Thankfully I’ve got a big, strong guy to take care of me once I pass out.” Yeah, that was about the answer Naidan expected. He was beyond the point of trying to talk Liu out of it. But as frustrating as it was, the fact that he was so aware of himself was kind of amusing. He shook his head, despite his small, fond smile.

Liu slung an arm around Naidan’s shoulders. “Seriously though, you look out for me a lot. I appreciate it, and…” He suddenly stopped, expression changing to one of thought. “Hey, Naidan. You ever had a girlfriend or something?”

“… What?” This was one of the weirdest changes in subject that Naidan had ever heard from the guy, and he raised a brow.

“Or a boyfriend- no judgement here.”

“… Why do you ask?”

“You never mentioned anything about relationships in the past. And actually,” Liu rolled his eyes as he poked at Naidan’s chest. “You barely ever talk about yourself in general, not even to me! And don’t you say that the topic’s never come up- everyone else’s already spilled the beans. I want to hear less about Nicholas’ weird flings and more about yours.”

“… There’s not much to talk about.” Despite the man’s suspicious look, Naidan’s expression didn’t crack. “I’m serious.”

“Not even one?” Naidan nodded in confirmation, and Liu let out a low whistle… or at least, what resembled one. “Why not?”

There were a lot of factors. Naidan’s job, for one, as well as the organisation he was aligned with. Then there was his focus on training and getting stronger; and how he never thought to look at most people like that. There were a few exceptions but…

Well. This all was too much to tell Liu, so Naidan chose the short answer. “Things never worked out that way.”

Liu nodded, a grin slowly forming on his lips. “Maybe we should arrange one of those mixers, hook you up with someone… think Arisa would be interested in joining?”

“Don’t try your luck.” Naidan smirked. “I’m not that interested in those kinds of things, anyway.”

“Come on, give it a shot! A handsome guy like you will definitely be popular.”

For a reason that Naidan attributed to the small amount of alcohol in his system, Liu’s comment sparked a… somewhat foreign feeling in his chest. It was not the first time he’d felt it- but something he tried not to think about. He only gave the other fighter a faint smile. “Maybe.”

Things got quiet. Liu looked up at Naidan, eyes slightly narrowed once more in a thoughtful expression. Did he space out, or something? After a few more moments of silence, the man’s gaze was getting unnerving. “You okay?” Naidan finally asked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” A slightly startled answer, followed by a short pause. “I was just thinking… maybe we shouldn’t join a mixer after all.”

“Huh. Why’s that?”

“Well, I suddenly realised. If we did go, all the girls would fawn over you and I’d be left in the dust.” He nodded to himself, as though he’d come to an epiphany. “And if the girls are all over you, I won’t be able to have you to myself.”

Isn’t that the point of a mixer? And what do you mean by that? Naidan wanted to ask, but Liu continued on.

“Seriously, I really don’t get why you’re still single. I mean- you’ve got that ‘quiet, good-looking guy’ thing going on for you, I’m pretty sure the ladies love that. Then there’s how you’re responsible and can take care of people pretty well…” Liu laughed, suddenly. “Hey. If the girls won’t date you, then maybe I should.”

Naidan froze for a moment. That feeling in his chest swelled again, and he swallowed it down. “… Dongcheng, you’re drunk.”

“Perhaps. But I’m not joking.” The switch from jovial to deadly serious took only a second. Liu turned his body so he faced Naidan directly, placing both hands on the Mongolian fighter’s shoulders. “Your damn ‘Eye of the Sky’ couldn’t catch all the hints I’ve been giving you, so, I’m going to be blunt. I like you, Naidan- you’re one of the people I care about the most. And I want to be with you, romantically.”

It took Naidan a moment to process what just happened, and even then, he didn’t know what to say. No, he’d told himself many times before. I am not in a position that would allow for a relationship. This will only hurt the other person… hurt Dongcheng.

But that small hope that clung onto his feelings continued to grow, and with Liu’s confession, it rose to a crescendo.

His silence, however, seemed to tell the other man a different story. Liu released his grip on Naidan, redness in his cheeks as he looked away in embarrassment. “Sorry. I guess I’m… drunker than I thought. Just forget I said any-“

His words were cut off as Naidan dragged him closer, lips crashing roughly with his; quick-witted, it didn’t take long for Liu to reciprocate. The only thing that mattered in that moment was the feel of Liu’s body against his, arms wrapped tightly around him.

They must have fell back onto the sofa at some point because Liu was on top of him when they parted. His lips and cheeks were red, but even so, the man still chuckled. “Well, took you long enough to answer.”

“You’re just impatient.”

With a small smile, Naidan watched as Liu settled himself onto his chest, muttering something about “liking this pillow, I think I’ll just sleep here.” Surely, Liu would wake up the next morning complaining about a sore neck and insist on staying home. But seeing him curled up against his body, sleeping with such a blissful expression… Naidan supposed one night like this wouldn’t hurt.

(Besides, from the way things were going, they’d be moving to the bed quite soon.)