#or u get to force every anxiety down and wait and watch him panic when he realizes oh. maybe we shouldve left when you said so
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My dad will cause a whole fight w my mom arguin about how he doesnt wanna pick me up from school and wants to drop me off and then drop me off late every time he does
#2 choices. u either get picked up and talked to for half an hour straight after being at school all day and being so overstimulated#or u get to force every anxiety down and wait and watch him panic when he realizes oh. maybe we shouldve left when you said so#looks like now we're gonna be late and arrive after class starts just like i said :( omg who wouldve thought. how could this happen#my dad says he will be disappointed in me if i go to any school but this one -> i stay late every school day to work on my portfolio#my dad -> surprised pikachu face when i stay late and try to get into the school he wants me to go to and thus has to pick me up late#wow i wonder who wanted me to go here. its not like theres a whole other school i couldve taken the subway to all on my own.#its almost like you specifically wanted me to go to the school that i have to go out of my way to go to#and its almost like youre so much of a control freak that you wont let me move out into a dorm or move any closer to it hahaha#MY GOD i love this house i love this house i love this house#the gamer speaks uwu#vent#causes a whooole fight w my mom fr over this yellin at her like its her fault#yeah ok bestieeee sureeee
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Bandanna (I know, these titles are truly groundbreaking)
here’s the fic for this request right here, I was able to finish it much earlier than I thought
lee!tommy, ler!tubbo
summary: tommy had somehow managed to lose the bandanna tubbo had gifted to him, and felt absolutely awful. he tried to stay strong, but ended up breaking in front of tubbo. but it’s alright, because tubbo was able to help tommy through it! (hurt/comfort)
~this is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, then please move on!~
TW- self-depricating thoughts, let me know if I need to add anything
Tommy growled under his breath as he reached the bottom of the last drawer, still no bandana in sight. He roughly dragged his fingers through his messy hair, slouching down into his desk chair with a frustrated huff. He examined the state of his room, and grimaced at what he saw; drawers were left open, their contents strewn about the room, his closet door was left open, the objects messily thrown about from when he sifted through them in his panicked craze. Tommy tried to think of anywhere else it could have possibly been, but he’s already triple checked every nook and cranny of his entire room, and practically tore the place apart in the process; he couldn’t find it.
He sighed heavily, and rested his head in his hands, and tried his best to think back to the last time he had it, but his frustration and anxiety made it hard to think about anything. A loud groan rose from the back of his throat, and he let his head fall to his desk with a thump, then he let out a pathetic sounding whine. He wasn’t even sure why he was so worked up about the stupid bandana, it was just a small piece of fabric.
But, Tommy knew that it was so much more than that. Tubbo had gifted it to him the first time they met up, with a sheepish look on his face and a light blush, he refused to make eye contact with Tommy, thrusting the square piece of cloth into his chest. He had run his fingers over the soft, silky fabric, taking in its muted green color and the rather poorly stitched bee located on the corner of it. After some pushing, Tubbo had admitted that he indeed did stitch it himself, only making it that much more special to him.
Tommy had light-heartedly teased Tubbo when he gave it to him, before thanking him, but he never let on just how much it meant to him. Tommy had tied it around his wrist when he got it, brandishing it with pride. However, once he arrived home, he decided to leave it in his room, in order to avoid damaging or losing it. That had certainly worked out well.
He would find himself picking it up and fiddling with it as he sat at his desk, he’d run his thumbs over the hem of the bandana as well as the stitched-on bee when he got anxious, and though he would never admit it, being way too embarrassed, he would sometimes bury his face into the soft fabric on particularly difficult nights, the small cloth somehow bringing him a sense of peace.
Just thinking about it, Tommy found himself searching around on his desk subconsciously, only to stop once he remembered it wasn’t there. He felt his frustration build, and along with it, felt the familiar prickling behind his eyes.
“Tommy! Come on bud, we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry!” Tommy startled, his fathers shout shaking out of his daze. He hastily wiped his eyes with his sleeve and grabbed his phone, hurrying to the front door where his dad was waiting for him.
In his panic, he’d almost forgotten that today he was going to see Tubbo; they had been wanting to just hang out the two of them for a while, without the stress of streaming or keeping up with social media for the day. The thought of Tubbo made dread pool in his gut, he knew, logically, Tubbo wouldn’t be upset, he probably forgot about the bandana, but he still felt awful for losing something Tubbo had put so much time into.
Tommy had zoned out the majority of the ride there, staring blankly out of the window. He startled when the car pulled to a stop, and looked up to see that they’d arrived at Tubbo’s house. He took a deep breath and pushed himself out of the car, managing a small wave and forced smile to his dad before he walked up to Tubbo’s front door.
Tommy stood in front of the door for a moment, mentally preparing himself, all while feeling extemely stupid for being so worked up over this, before he forced himself to just knock on the door. Just seconds after, an excited, grinning Tubbo flung the door open, enthusiastically greeting Tommy before leading him back to his room. Once they arrived, Tubbo sat down at his desk chair, Tommy on his bed, like they would usually do when the two of them hung out.
Tommy was being unusually quiet, Tubbo noticed, finding it a little odd that he was the one having to initiate the conversation, but didn’t pay it too much mind.
“So what have you been up to Tommy? It feels like it's been forever since we’ve been able to just chat.” Tommy jumped a bit, having spaced out, before quickly trying to come up with a response that wouldn’t raise any suspicion.
“U-um, not much, it’s just kinda been the usual. You?” Well, so much for not raising suspicion. Tommy had to admit, that was a pretty lousy attempt. In his defence, he was never very good at hiding when he was upset, tending to wear his heart on his sleeve.
As expected, Tubbo didn’t buy it for a moment.
“You good Toms? That was a pretty lackluster response, especially for you.” And, Tommy just decided, fuck it. He was tired and upset, why bother trying to hide it from Tubbo, especially when the other could read him like an open book?
“I-I… Its stupid. But I lost that dumb bandana that you gave me a while back, and I tore my whole room apart looking for it and I can’t find it anywhere! And I know it’s stupid and pathetic but it meant a lot to me! I was careful to make sure nothing happened to it, and I have no clue what could have possibly happened! I spent pretty much all last night and this morning looking for it.” Tommy huffed again, his frustration at both the situation and at himself only growing stronger as he spoke.
Tubbo, shocked that he actually got the usually so stubborn boy to talk to him, was silent for a moment.
“O-oh, I- didn’t realize that it meant so much to you.” Wow, great job, Tubbo. 10/10 way to make him feel better. He had such a way with his words.
“Shut up, man. You don’t need to rub it in.” Tommy’s voice was small and pitchy, and, oh god. Tubbo panicked as he heard his breath hitch as he quickly turned away, hastily bringing his hands up to hide his face. Tubbo rushed over to the side of his bed where Tommy was sat, placing a gentle hand on Tommy’s arm, only for the younger to quickly pull it away.
“Fuck- shit- Tommy I’m so sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I was just being stupid and couldn’t think of a response, and that’s what my brain managed to come up with. I’m sorry.” Tommy still didn’t budge, curling in on himself.
“Be-because you thought i-it was stupid.” Tommy mumbled, causing Tubbo to panic further.
“No! No, Tommy, that’s not it, I promise. I just- didn’t expect it, which isn’t your fault, it’s just because I was being dumb and don’t know how to talk to people. It’s okay, and it’s definitely not stupid to be upset over. I’m so sorry that happened, and that I made you think that I thought otherwise.” Tommy still didn’t respond, and Tubbo was growing desperate. He really wasn’t a huge fan of physical affection, and certainly not initiating it himself, but it was the only thing he could think of, and Tommy definitely deserved a hug after all this. So, Tubbo scooped the taller boyup into his arms, holding him close and gently swaying the two of them. Tommy tried to hold out, but didn’t even last five seconds before he turned towards Tubbo and slammed himself into the younger, burying his face into his shoulder and sobbing.
“I don’t understand why I’m so worked up about this, I feel so stupid! I-I’m sorry, Tubs, for blaming you like that, I know you wouldn’t judge me for something like that. I-I- I just don’t understand why I’m feeling like this.” Tubbo tightened his embrace around the other, carefully maneuvering them until they were both laying down on the bed, Tommy smushed on top of him, still clinging onto him with a trembling grib.
“I’m so sorry, Toms, I know how upsetting it is to not understand what you’re feeling. It’s alright, you lost something that was important to you, and it’s okay that the bandana was important to you, and it’s okay to be upset over it. I know you said you looked everywhere, and I believe you, but there’s still a chance that it’ll turn up somewhere. And, I know it wouldn’t be the same, but I could easily make you another one; and I could do a much better job stitching the bee on this time.” Tubbo tried to make his tone more lighthearted towards the end, desperately trying to bring Tommy’s mood up, even just slightly. He hated seeing how upset his friend was.
After a few minutes, Tommy had largely calmed down, just the occasional sniffles and hitches in breath coming through. Tubbo tilted his head up to face him, and offered him a lopsided smile.
“Alright, Toms, you made it all the way out here, what do you wanna do? We can just chill and watch a movie or play some games if you’d like.” Tommy groaned, pushing Tubbo’s hand away from his face and smushing it back against his chest.
“I don’ know, tired.” Tommy mumbled, and Tubbo giggled at his friend's antics. Tubbo found himself mindlessly playing with the hem of Tommy’s shirt, not missing the surprised squeak his friend let out when he accidentally grazed his fingers over his side. A smirk grew on Tubbo’s face, and Tommy could feel the mischievous energy radiating from his friend without even looking at him.
“T-Tubbo, waiHAIT-” Tommy cut himself off with a squeal as Tubbo pinched up and down his sides, before bursting into bubbly, childlike giggles. On any other day, Tommy would have put up much more of a fight to get away and hold in his laughter, but he’s already exhausted himself with the rollercoaster of emotions he went on that day. Instead, he clenched the fabric of Tubbo’s shirt sleeves in his fists and weakly squirmed around in his grip.
Awe, Toms! You have such a sweet laugh! And you’re hardly even trying to get away, could you possibly get any cuter?!” Tubbo giddily exclaimed, moving his hands up towards his ribs.
Tommy hiccuped between his laughter, shaking his head in protest at Tubbo’s cooing.
“Nohohoho-*hic*-ohoh! N-Nahahat cuhuhute!”
“No, I think you are! Such a cute giggly little thing!” Tommy would never admit to the whine that came out of him at the teasy praise, practically keening from the combination of the tickly affection and kind words. He was overwhelmed in the best possible way, and, unable to form proper words, just wrapped his arms around Tubbo and clung to him.
Tubbo could feel his heart melting at his friend’s adorable display, unable to keep from audibly ‘awe’ing at him, only causing Tommy to whine more, and burrow even closer into his chest.
Deciding to try his luck at a different spot, Tubbo moved his hands down to Tommy’s hips, giving them an experimental squeeze.
And to Tubbo’s absolute delight, a loud squeal tore itself from Tommy’s throat, and he flailed his legs out wildly for a moment before going limp, seeping bonelessly into Tubbo’s embrace, loud belly laughter shaking his entire frame. Tommy babbled for a moment before giving up again on speaking, desperately holding onto Tubbo as a way to ground himself.
Tubbo only kept it up for no more than ten seconds, and while Tommy was in absolute bliss for those ten seconds, Tubbo stopped at just the right time, Tommy gasping for air. Tubbo giggled along with his friend, ruffling his hair.
“You good Toms?” Tubbo questioned after a bit, when Tommy still hadn’t managed to stop giggling. He just nodded in response, his eyelids suddenly feeling extremely heavy. If he was tired before, he was completely exhausted now, and Tubbo caught on to how quickly the taller seemed to be nodding off. He adjusted their position, reaching to grab his phone, before settling back down on the bed. He smiled, as he felt more than saw Tommy yawning into his chest, snuggling closer.
“Go ahead and take a nap Toms, you deserve it.” Tommy certainly didn’t have to be told twice, feeling the lull of sleep pulling at his conscious, and was out not even a minute later. Tubbo felt a warm feeling build in his chest, as he held his friend close and turned his phone on to scroll through shitposts shared with him on Discord.
And, yeah, maybe Tommy did lose the bandana, and that sucked. But it would be alright, with Tubbo there to provide him with more comfort than the small piece of cloth ever could.
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Wassssssup
Okay so say reader is having a really bad panic attack (like hyperventilating to the point where they pass out in "said slashers' arms" how would Jason, Brahms, Bubba, Thomas and Michael react ???????
Make sure u eat today 🥺🥺🥺🥺❣️❣️❣️❣️
O O F . this is gonna be a thing .
Wassssssup
Okay so say reader is having a really bad panic attack (like hyperventilating to the point where they pass out in "said slashers' arms" how would Jason, Brahms, Bubba, Thomas and Michael react ???????
Make sure u eat today 🥺🥺🥺🥺❣️❣️❣️❣️
jason
finding you , in your shared cabin , panicked and sobbing , shaking uncontrollably on the floor had jason freaking out . he’s by your side in two long strides , pulling you into his chest as his hands skitter over you trying to find any physical hurt . which is what he’s used to . physical hurt . a hurt he can ease , a hurt he can see healing . he hasn’t had experience with a panic attack like this . at least not from someone who he’s cared for . so he isn’t sure what to do . he tries to hold you . tries to rub your back as you cry , desperately wishing that he could speak and ask what was wrong .
and then you go limp in his arms . there’s a few seconds where jason can only stare at you with wide fearful eyes . you’re dead . you’re gone . you aren’t moving . he starts to tremble , starts to feel his own panic rise within him . and then he feels how you’re still breathing . and he can almost cry with relief . jason will craddle you , not able to move as he holds and rocks you , as he silently begs for you to wake back up , his mask pressed against your hair .
when you do wake up , at long last , jason will give you masked kisses to your forehead , try to wipe away any tears left on your cheeks and just stare . he needs to know what happened . what he can do . he’s calm and patient , if not a bit clingy , as you explain your panic attack . you’ll find no judgement from your crystal lake killer , only understanding and a need to protect and hold you closer .
brahms
if you’re prone to anxiety attack , then there’s a chance that brahms has seen you have one before . when he was still in the walls , watching and somewhat removed from your break down . during those times when you were sobbing and rocking yourself through an attack , brahms would call out softly to you with his child voice , asking you what’s wrong . asking what he could do to help . saying he was sorry that he couldn’t comfort you even if he wanted to .
but once brahms is out of the walls he’ll be by your side when you’re going through such a nerve wracking time . he can finally hold you , nuzzle in , pet your hair . he’ll try speaking in his child voice as he attempts to soothe you , if it doesn’t work he’ll use more of his true voice . but the worse your panic attack gets the more nervous he gets , the more anxious . he can tell you aren’t calming down , and that makes him grip you a little too tight , beg a little too much . he’s seen you break down before . but never this bad .
passing out in his arms , at first brahms thinks that you finally settled and calmed down . he thinks you’re just done . but when you don’t respond to him . when you stay still , only breathing slow and even he starts to panic . now it’s his term to cry and shake . please be okay , y/n . please wake up . please don’t leave him .
much like with jason , you won’t be moved from the spot you passed out in . brahms will be hovering , clinging , still crying as you come to . in a strange shift , brahms won’t be wanting you to comfort him . he isn’t going to be a brat . he’ll want to know what happened . is it going to happen again ? is it always this bad ? what is he supposed to do ? he didn’t know he was so scared . so scared . talk to him about it . tell him what to do , what helps . the next time you start to feel an attack coming on he’ll come to you , ready to hold you and help you with what you need . the boy will fade away , and the man will take it’s place .
bubba
bubba panics . you’re his person . somewhere special . seeing you in such a state , especially for the first time , has him freaking out . who hurt you ? who did this ? was it nubbins ? chop top ? did drayton yell at you ? were you scared by some stray meat ? please don’t cry . now bubba is crying . he’s crying just as hard , empathetic to your pain . he’s going to hug you . cry on you and with you . when you hyperventilate , bubba might end up breathing harshly and whining . and when you pass out bubba feels faint .
eventually , he’s going to pick you up , cradling you and whining as he brings you to your shared room . he doesn’t like how limp you are in his grip . he doesn’t like how your face is red and puffy from crying . but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable . bubba will tuck you into bed , holding your hand in both of his as he rests his head on your belly . he waits so patiently , whining and whimpering and babbling at you in hopes you wake up soon .
this good southern boy will be so happy when you wake up . smothering you with happy noises and kisses . pressing his face into your stomach and chest and looking up at you with those big curious and worried eyes . it’s easy to explain to bubba , but hard to get him to fully understand . he won’t like knowing that this happens often , and he will hover around you more now . but just rest easy . no matter how bad your attacks get , you’ll always wake up to bubba giving you love and comfort .
thomas
living the way the hewitts do is stressful . thomas knows this . and he understands it can take a toll on someone . it even takes a toll on him . he knew it was a matter of time before it got to you , and it worried him constantly . but god , when he sees you break down . it’s worse than anything he had imagined . it felt like he’d been knifed by meat fighting back . he’s by your side in an instant .
unlike the previous slashers , thomas doesn’t keep you in one place until you pass out . he moves you immediately . he wants you out of the place you’re panicking and into a place he knows you feel safe an secure . so thomas takes you to your shared room . he lets you cling , petting your back . he lets you cry . he doesn’t ask you to stop , he doesn’t try to force you to calm down . he lets you get everything out . he knows you need it , deep down . even if it breaks his heart to see you so wracked with anxiety .
passing out worries him . but he knows it can happen . he’s brought in so many different kinds of meet and seeing someone pass out from stress or fear was common when he was lugging them to the basement . much like bubba , thomas will not leave your side . he holds your hand , hunched over and watching . waiting . he knows you’ll wake up . it just takes time . and he’ll be here for you to talk to when you wake up .
michael
this man has spent the majority of his life surrounded by people who suffered with different mental illnesses . he’s seen panick attacks , anxiety attacks , self explosion , freak outs . he’s seen how they were handled , seen in great detail every expression and movement they go through . so it’s a familiar sight to come into the room and see you panicking . for a moment he watches , all of the different ways the nurses and doctors handled patients suffering from the same thing as you were now being mulled over in his head .
he doesn’t have medicine . and he isn’t keen on hitting your head with the end of his knife to make you pass out . he mulls over what to do as he watches you , thinking he should just leave you alone , but ultimately he moves forward . michael doesn’t lean down , doesn’t scoop you up . he stands next to you , taking your head in one hand and pressing it to the side of his leg . he keeps you there . it’s the closest thing to comfort that michael and offer . his hand doesn't move , but he does flex his fingers , giving the impression of petting your hair .
when you go limp and pass out he is very aware . he watches your body slump , feels how your body moves from his grip and placement leaning on his legs to the floor . he stares down at you for only a moment before lifting your body and taking you to the bed . you’re placed there , settled but not tucked in . and michael seems fine with leaving you there .
waking up , you’ll notice that you’re in your room , still in the same clothes you had been , just laid out on top of the comforter . but turn your head and you see a glass of water on your nightstand . you see a single pill for pain and headaches . all these things waiting for you , things left by michael who obviously chose to give you space . while michael isn’t the most affectionate . he does care . in his own little ways .
#jason voorhees#brahms heelshire#bubba sawyer#thomas hewitt#michael myers#jason vorhees x reader#brahms heelshire x reader#bubba saywer x reader#thomas hewitt x reader#michael myers x reader#jason vorhees imagine#brahms heelshire imagine#bubba sawyer imagine#thomas hewitt imagine#michael myers imagine#slasher x reader#slasher imagine#slasher#slashers#slashers x reader#( asks / answered. )
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anonymous asked :
Wassssssup
Okay so say reader is having a really bad panic attack (like hyperventilating to the point where they pass out in "said slashers' arms" how would Jason, Brahms, Bubba, Thomas and Michael react ???????
Make sure u eat today 🥺🥺🥺🥺❣️❣️❣️❣️
jason
finding you , in your shared cabin , panicked and sobbing , shaking uncontrollably on the floor had jason freaking out . he’s by your side in two long strides , pulling you into his chest as his hands skitter over you trying to find any physical hurt . which is what he’s used to . physical hurt . a hurt he can ease , a hurt he can see healing . he hasn’t had experience with a panic attack like this . at least not from someone who he’s cared for . so he isn’t sure what to do . he tries to hold you . tries to rub your back as you cry , desperately wishing that he could speak and ask what was wrong .
and then you go limp in his arms . there’s a few seconds where jason can only stare at you with wide fearful eyes . you’re dead . you’re gone . you aren’t moving . he starts to tremble , starts to feel his own panic rise within him . and then he feels how you’re still breathing . and he can almost cry with relief . jason will craddle you , not able to move as he holds and rocks you , as he silently begs for you to wake back up , his mask pressed against your hair .
when you do wake up , at long last , jason will give you masked kisses to your forehead , try to wipe away any tears left on your cheeks and just stare . he needs to know what happened . what he can do . he’s calm and patient , if not a bit clingy , as you explain your panic attack . you’ll find no judgement from your crystal lake killer , only understanding and a need to protect and hold you closer .
brahms
if you’re prone to anxiety attack , then there’s a chance that brahms has seen you have one before . when he was still in the walls , watching and somewhat removed from your break down . during those times when you were sobbing and rocking yourself through an attack , brahms would call out softly to you with his child voice , asking you what’s wrong . asking what he could do to help . saying he was sorry that he couldn’t comfort you even if he wanted to .
but once brahms is out of the walls he’ll be by your side when you’re going through such a nerve wracking time . he can finally hold you , nuzzle in , pet your hair . he’ll try speaking in his child voice as he attempts to soothe you , if it doesn’t work he’ll use more of his true voice . but the worse your panic attack gets the more nervous he gets , the more anxious . he can tell you aren’t calming down , and that makes him grip you a little too tight , beg a little too much . he’s seen you break down before . but never this bad .
passing out in his arms , at first brahms thinks that you finally settled and calmed down . he thinks you’re just done . but when you don’t respond to him . when you stay still , only breathing slow and even he starts to panic . now it’s his term to cry and shake . please be okay , y/n . please wake up . please don’t leave him .
much like with jason , you won’t be moved from the spot you passed out in . brahms will be hovering , clinging , still crying as you come to . in a strange shift , brahms won’t be wanting you to comfort him . he isn’t going to be a brat . he’ll want to know what happened . is it going to happen again ? is it always this bad ? what is he supposed to do ? he didn’t know he was so scared . so scared . talk to him about it . tell him what to do , what helps . the next time you start to feel an attack coming on he’ll come to you , ready to hold you and help you with what you need . the boy will fade away , and the man will take it’s place .
bubba
bubba panics . you’re his person . somewhere special . seeing you in such a state , especially for the first time , has him freaking out . who hurt you ? who did this ? was it nubbins ? chop top ? did drayton yell at you ? were you scared by some stray meat ? please don’t cry . now bubba is crying . he’s crying just as hard , empathetic to your pain . he’s going to hug you . cry on you and with you . when you hyperventilate , bubba might end up breathing harshly and whining . and when you pass out bubba feels faint .
eventually , he’s going to pick you up , cradling you and whining as he brings you to your shared room . he doesn’t like how limp you are in his grip . he doesn’t like how your face is red and puffy from crying . but he wants to make sure you’re comfortable . bubba will tuck you into bed , holding your hand in both of his as he rests his head on your belly . he waits so patiently , whining and whimpering and babbling at you in hopes you wake up soon .
this good southern boy will be so happy when you wake up . smothering you with happy noises and kisses . pressing his face into your stomach and chest and looking up at you with those big curious and worried eyes . it’s easy to explain to bubba , but hard to get him to fully understand . he won’t like knowing that this happens often , and he will hover around you more now . but just rest easy . no matter how bad your attacks get , you’ll always wake up to bubba giving you love and comfort .
thomas
living the way the hewitts do is stressful . thomas knows this . and he understands it can take a toll on someone . it even takes a toll on him . he knew it was a matter of time before it got to you , and it worried him constantly . but god , when he sees you break down . it’s worse than anything he had imagined . it felt like he’d been knifed by meat fighting back . he’s by your side in an instant .
unlike the previous slashers , thomas doesn’t keep you in one place until you pass out . he moves you immediately . he wants you out of the place you’re panicking and into a place he knows you feel safe an secure . so thomas takes you to your shared room . he lets you cling , petting your back . he lets you cry . he doesn’t ask you to stop , he doesn’t try to force you to calm down . he lets you get everything out . he knows you need it , deep down . even if it breaks his heart to see you so wracked with anxiety .
passing out worries him . but he knows it can happen . he’s brought in so many different kinds of meet and seeing someone pass out from stress or fear was common when he was lugging them to the basement . much like bubba , thomas will not leave your side . he holds your hand , hunched over and watching . waiting . he knows you’ll wake up . it just takes time . and he’ll be here for you to talk to when you wake up .
michael
this man has spent the majority of his life surrounded by people who suffered with different mental illnesses . he’s seen panick attacks , anxiety attacks , self explosion , freak outs . he’s seen how they were handled , seen in great detail every expression and movement they go through . so it’s a familiar sight to come into the room and see you panicking . for a moment he watches , all of the different ways the nurses and doctors handled patients suffering from the same thing as you were now being mulled over in his head .
he doesn’t have medicine . and he isn’t keen on hitting your head with the end of his knife to make you pass out . he mulls over what to do as he watches you , thinking he should just leave you alone , but ultimately he moves forward . michael doesn’t lean down , doesn’t scoop you up . he stands next to you , taking your head in one hand and pressing it to the side of his leg . he keeps you there . it’s the closest thing to comfort that michael and offer . his hand doesn’t move , but he does flex his fingers , giving the impression of petting your hair .
when you go limp and pass out he is very aware . he watches your body slump , feels how your body moves from his grip and placement leaning on his legs to the floor . he stares down at you for only a moment before lifting your body and taking you to the bed . you’re placed there , settled but not tucked in . and michael seems fine with leaving you there .
waking up , you’ll notice that you’re in your room , still in the same clothes you had been , just laid out on top of the comforter . but turn your head and you see a glass of water on your nightstand . you see a single pill for pain and headaches . all these things waiting for you , things left by michael who obviously chose to give you space . while michael isn’t the most affectionate . he does care . in his own little ways .
#jason voorhees#jason voorhees imagine#jason voorhees x reader#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt imagine#thomas hewitt x reader#bubba sawyer#bubba sawyer imagine#bubba saywer x reader#brahms heelshire#brahms heelshire imagine#brahms heelshire x reader#michael myers#michael myers imagine#michael myers x reader#slasher#slashers#slasher imagine#slashers imagine#slasher x reader#slashers x reader
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Just Fine (Aiden/Lambert)
Based on Kashimalin’s 50 Types of Kisses Prompt List
Read on Ao3
Prompt: “Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.”
Summary:
Today is the day. Lambert knows he should feel more excited at the thought of his boyfriend returning home, to the safety of Lambert’s embrace, but he can’t help the anxiety building inside him and twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t care for in the least.
Lambert knows that he should be excited, but the sentiment is tarnished by his crippling anxiety, and he feels like the worst boyfriend in the world.
Warnings: mention of amputation, modern AU
“So, today’s the day, huh?” Eskel smirks as he watches Lambert positively vibrating with excitement where he’s sat on a chair opposite Eskel. The coffee shop is mostly empty, save for another couple in the corner exchanging kisses and giggling carelessly as they rejoice in their puppy love. Lambert chose this place because it’s closest to the airport, but admittedly the place isn’t half-bad and the coffee doesn’t taste like piss.
“Stop that, it’s creepy,” Lambert grouses as he stuffs another forkful of chocolate cake into his mouth. When he notices Eskel’s confused frown, Lambert rolls his eyes and adds pointedly, “you, being all excited on my behalf. That’s unnatural. Stop it.”
“Whatever.” Eskel takes a sip of his tea - because Eskel is the kind of person who likes to drink tea for fun - before levelling Lambert with a look that the latter knows all too well. “You’re allowed to be excited about his return, you know? It’s been a year since he-”
“I know,” Lambert quickly interrupts before Eskel has a chance to finish his sentence, “I am excited.”
“Tell your face, then.”
“Shut up, prick.”
“It’s gonna be fine, Lambert.” Eskel reaches across the table to squeeze Lambert’s clammy hand. “I know you’re worried because of his injury, but you’ll both figure it out together. You don’t love him any less for it, right?”
“Of course not,” Lambert snaps in response as he snatches his hand away, angry at the mere suggestion that his feelings for Aiden would disappear for something as superficial as a physical injury, “of course I don’t love him any less for it. It’s just…”
Eskel doesn’t press him, and Lambert is grateful for that. Truth be told, he’s not entirely sure why he feels so anxious at the thought of seeing Aiden again. It’s been a long year without his boyfriend there to warm his bed and his life. Aiden is the life of Lambert’s entire life, and a year without him felt like the longest time. A whole year went by since Aiden was deployed and has been fighting overseas, taking part in a war that has lost all meaning. He missed birthdays, holidays spent with family around a hearty meal, milestone anniversaries... A year of Lambert staying up late at night, calling Aiden whenever his connection permitted it or writing letters to send his boyfriend when speaking to him proved too difficult. A year of Lambert switching the TV or radio on every morning before heading to work, listening for the announcements and hoping he wouldn’t hear Aiden’s name listed among the soldiers that perished as part of this senseless war.
Just over a week ago, Aiden called Lambert from a military hospital overseas a short two days after he was involved in an explosion that cost the lives of hundreds of civilians and soldiers alike. While Aiden survived the blast, he sustained a considerable injury to his leg. The doctors couldn’t save it, Aiden told Lambert over the phone, the leg had to come off. Lambert remembered crying on the phone that night, not because he mourned the loss of Aiden’s leg - they were tears of relief because Aiden came this close to dying in the blast that killed so many people. Lambert came this close to losing the most important person in his life. Come home, baby, Lambert remembered begging Aiden over the phone, I need you to come home. Today is the day. Lambert knows he should feel more excited at the thought of his boyfriend returning home, to the safety of Lambert’s embrace, but he can’t help the anxiety building inside him and twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t care for in the least. As a result of the injury he suffered, Aiden had to retire from the military early. While Lambert was happy to have his boyfriend return to him, he knew that Aiden struggled with the thought of retiring at the prime of his career. Not only is he out of a job, but his job prospects are not looking too bright, either. Aiden will have to spend time in physiotherapy, physical rehabilitation courses, counselling… Lambert knows the next months will be tough on his boyfriend.
Lambert knows that he should be excited, but the sentiment is tarnished by his crippling anxiety, and he feels like the worst boyfriend in the world.
“It’s gonna be just fine, Lamb.” Eskel sounds so sure, so confident, that Lambert is almost inclined to believe him. “I promise, brother. You and Aiden will be just fine.”
“I hope you’re right, Kel.”
The drive to the airport is longer than Lambert remembers it being. The car is filled with the sound of heavy rock and heavy metal, the loud emphatic beats and distorted guitar solos washing over Lambert in calming waves. His brothers call him weird for finding this kind of music ‘soothing’, but it works for him, so his brothers can kiss his ass. The sun is beating down on the world below, forcing Lambert to crank up the A/C in the car. He drives along miles of barbed wire, “KEEP OUT” signs and parked aircraft. Lambert checks the time on his dashboard and realises that he’s a whole half an hour early. It isn’t exactly unheard of for soldiers’ families to arrive early and prepare for their loved one’s arrival - either by setting up signs, powdering their noses or getting the children to practice a welcome home song to celebrate their parents’ triumphant return. Lambert usually just waits in the shadows until Aiden comes into view, at which point he pulls his boyfriend close to him so they can get reacquainted away from prying eyes.
Lambert pulls into the airport multistorey parking complex, and thankfully he doesn’t have to spend ages looking for a parking space. As he pulls up into a tight space, Lambert’s heart sinks in his chest. Aiden will probably be travelling in a wheelchair - and he will be using one for a while, at least until he gets his prosthetic leg fitted. There’s no way in hell that Aiden will be able to comfortably step into the car if Lambert stays parked in this spot, but what other choice does he have? He doesn’t have a disabled parking permit yet, but Lambert guesses that’s something they’ll have to think about now. Until then, all he can do is park further away from the door and hope that no one will use the bay next to the passenger side so Aiden has enough space to move comfortably. So that’s precisely what he does. Shit, is Lambert overthinking this? Is he looking for problems where there are none? The last thing he wants is to tiptoe around Aiden’s disability. The last thing he wants is to make Aiden feel like things have changed because he lost his leg.
Shit. Why is he crying now? He should be excited, goddammit.
Lambert angrily wipes the tears and steps out of the car. They’ll be just fine, that’s what Eskel said. Eskel sounded so confident, so sure of himself, but hell, what if he’s wrong? What if Aiden leaves Lambert? What if Aiden pushes Lambert away? It was probably a mistake to read up all those army wives’ blogs and the nightmarish stories about husbands shutting down and falling into depression after sustaining a serious injury. Shit, what if Lambert isn’t good enough? What if Aiden thinks that Lambert is a lousy boyfriend who can’t take well enough care of him?
Deep breaths, Lambert. In, out. In, out. In-
Shit, why are there so many people in this fucking airport? Lambert stands in his usual corner, shying away from the crowds, averting everyone’s eyes as he stares at his phone. He shoots his brothers a text in their group chat - Have I ever told u guys how much I h8 crowds? - hoping that they will understand and distract him from the panic welling up in his chest. As he waits for an answer from either Geralt or Eskel, Lambert switches to his Facebook app and scrolls through his feed. He doesn’t have to wait long until the group chat pings with Geralt’s response.
G: You’ve mentioned it once or twice… or 100
Lambert snorts as he shoots a sassy comeback.
So mentioning it 1 more time won’t hurt. I fucking h8 goddamn crowds.
A quick glance at the arrivals screen tells Lambert that Aiden’s plane landed a few short minutes ago. Not long before they are reunited and able to hug it out in the middle of the airport. At this point, Lambert doesn’t give a shit anymore about what other people think of them. He almost lost Aiden, so he will go on his knees and hug him, wheelchair be damned. Lambert looks around him and sees many families and loved ones itching to welcome the soldiers back. Some of them brought flowers, or the puppy they bought last week as a welcome-home present, and even newborn babies. Lambert wonders if he should have bought Aiden a gift to commemorate the beginning of his retirement. He feels like that would be in bad taste considering Aiden’s feelings on the matter.
The first soldiers start to filter through the door, eyes scanning the room and lighting up when they land on familiar faces. Many people cry tears of joy and relief, others manage to keep a modicum of composure, and some even let out shrill cries of joy as they are finally reunited with the people they love and cherish the most. There is still no sight of Aiden and part of Lambert worries that something happened to him in the week it took the military to organise his repatriation. Feeling the panic well up in him again, Lambert pulls out his phone and opens the group chat window. L: What if he doesn’t come back?
It doesn’t take long for his phone to vibrate with Eskel’s response.
E: As if he’d pass up an opportunity to come back to his pain in the ass boyfriend.
L: Ass.
G: He’ll come back, Lamb. He’ll come back and he’s not leaving again.
Lambert takes a deep breath as he lets these words run through his mind. Aiden is coming back. He’s coming back. He’s-
“Why, hello there,” a familiar voice breaks through the storm raging in Lambert’s head, “come here often?”
Aiden looks so… so like himself. He’s sporting that familiar cocksure grin and his eyes shimmer with all the emotions he can’t bring himself to voice. His voice sounds so self-assured, even though Lambert knows he’s only a breath away from losing it and crying tears of relief. His hair is slightly longer and Lambert can make out the familiar dark curls he loves so much. Aiden looks so much like his old self that Lambert forgets, for a short minute, that he’s missing the lower half of his left leg entirely.
“Aiden. You’re here.”
“No place I’d rather be.”
Lambert doesn’t feel himself fall to his knees until they hit the solid surface of the airport floor, cracking in protest at the impact. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around Aiden’s middle, squeezing tightly and burying his face in his boyfriend’s stomach. He’s unable to bite back the tears this time, and if Aiden notices that the soft material of his t-shirt is soaked right through, he doesn’t draw attention to it. Instead, he cards his fingers through Lambert’s short hair, softly shushing him and whispering heartfelt reassurances in the air pocket between them.
“I’m here, baby,” Aiden tells him over and over, “I’m back. I’m here, sweetheart. I love you.”
“I missed you,” Lambert hears himself say, “I missed you. I was so scared, Aiden, you don’t understand-”
“I’m here, Lamb. I’m here. You don’t have to be scared, anymore.”
They’ve got so much shit to figure out, Lambert knows. They need to think about all the adjustments they need to make to their lives, all the paperwork they’ll have to fill out, therapy sessions they have to book and medical insurance they need to update. All these things that terrified Lambert a few hours earlier, all these plans that made panic well in him and want to run for the hills… all these worries weighing him down disappear the second Lambert feels Aiden’s arms around him, squeezing him, comforting him.
“I’m not scared,” Lambert assures Aiden, pulling back and straightening up so he can place a soft kiss on Aiden’s lips. They still feel the same against his own, they still taste the same, too. Nothing has changed. Aiden is still Aiden. “Not anymore.”
“Anymore?” There’s a teasing edge in Aiden’s voice, a mocking grin tugging at his lips. “Ah, kitten. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I gotcha. Now shut up and kiss me again.”
Lambert happily obliges Aiden’s request. Their lips slot against each other like they didn’t just spend a year apart. Their kiss is tender and soft at first, but Lambert is quick to deepen it by licking Aiden’s bottom lip. Neither of them cares about the potential eyes on him - nobody is likely to pay attention to them, not when they’re all lost in the joy of being reunited with their own family members. Lambert breaks the kiss briefly to whisper a soft ‘I love you’ to Aiden. His cheeks turn red as he speaks those three words which still feel too intimate to be loudly proclaimed in public, even after all these years. Aiden steals another kiss before reciprocating the sentiment, his breath ghosting over Lambert’s lips and sending a peasant shiver coursing through his body.
They have lots of shit to figure out, but Aiden is here and he’s not going anywhere. Aiden is here, and neither of them has to deal with the situation on their own. They’ll be just fine. Everything will be just fine.
#the witcher#lambert#lambert the witcher#the witcher lambert#aiden#aiden the witcher#the witcher aiden#witcher lambert#witcher aiden#lambert x aiden#aiden x lambert#lambert/aiden#aiden/lambert#lambden#laiden#modern AU#havenwrites
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RAY IN THE BATHROOM
Summary: Ray is hiding in a bathroom and has a panic attack over the fact that his only real friend and the love of his life has (supposedly) left him for Brad.
Word-Count: 2.1k
Warnings: References of suicidal thoughts, ptsd, and severe anxiety. Brad is a semi-asshole. Hop on the angst train (with fluff at the end!)
A/N: I was listening to Be More Chill because let's just say that I can heavily relate to Micheal In The Bathroom due to recent events in my life. So then again, what better way to cope then using my biggest kin, Ray Person, in a totally not self indulgent fic?? Also as for the prompt requests-i'm working on them! Sorry, school has been bad. I'm keeping a promise to myself to release at least once a a week and I'm on a gen kill rampage. Idk what else to add so enjoy!
Taglist: @theboardwalkbody
Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!
Ray doesn’t expect himself to be hanging in the bathroom at their first year reunion. But instead of “hanging”, he’s hiding. Those emotions that never come out are now coming back to haunt him. Ray knows he can't hide behind a shit eating grin and sunglasses. He leaned up against the tub inside of the cramped room, his sunglasses tucked into the neck of his polo as tears sting his eyes.
Ray’s legs felt numb and he knows if he looks into the mirror and sees his flushed face and eyes, he won’t be able to conceal his crying. He’s not able to go back outside and would prefer to fake pee or just check his phone in the bathroom.
“C’mon brah!” Q-tip whined like a child, crossing his legs. “This hurts like a butt cheek on a stick”
“You can’t come in!” Ray yelled as he held back a sob, “The little man is going. Suck it up, buttercup.”
Q-tip had been knocking on the door for over ten minutes before giving up and choosing to pee outside. Ray let out a shaky sigh and fell onto the thin side of the bathtub, biting his lip and he batted his wet eyes with his palms.
Ray and y/n had been an unexpected trio. Partners in crime, double trouble, you went well together despite their differences. You were an educated college student and he was a whiskey tango mess who couldn’t shut his mouth for the life of it. You cried, laughed, and did everything together. Little known to y/n, Ray didn’t have a crush on her-but he was more than in love.
However, when Ray is having severe social anxiety, an event he would typically rely on y/n to help him with, his “partner in crime” falls short. Ray knows that y/n is light years better than him. Here was the smartest and most beautiful woman he had met next to a college dropout who didn’t make it past Geometry.
Now the “perfect pair” is severed, leaving one half alone in the bathroom.
Ray’s forgotten how long he’s been in the bathroom for. These types of events always felt forced, and everyone knew that. Whenever that awkwardness would arise, Ray and y/n would choose to ditch and steal a few beers and sit in the bathtub, watching an obscure eighties film in the dark, cramped room with Ray’s god awful commentary.
But even though Ray has Born American downloaded, he can’t bring himself to watch it. Now he’s laying in the bathtub, picking at grout as he softly grieves. He’s hiding in there while y/n is ignoring all of their history.
Ray first arrived at the party, making a dramatic entrance. He made sure everybody knew that he was there, especially y/n. His original plan was to wear a purple tux he had snatched from walamrt since it was ugly as fuck, and Ray knew that. But knowing that you were going to be there, Ray made an attempt with an expensive navy polo and khaki shorts, courtesy of Nate.
Upon seeing you, Ray ran over from whatever he was doing to talk to you. Whether you were OD’S or a casual jumpsuit, you looked dead drop gorgeous-and Ray never knew how to express his affections. So he pulled you into a hug and muttered a shitty joke, and you just laughed.
Over the course of the next hour, the two of you catched up about your mundane lives. It made Ray feel guilty since he knew that you were better than him in every way possible, on the road of success. Your future sounded like you would go to some fancy school and then marry a lawyer. Ray wanted to be good for you, but he didn’t know how to at all. He followed you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the party, feeling a tinge of jealousy whenever one of the guys would give you a chaste hug or when you wouldn't pay attention to him for five minutes.
Ray didn’;t know why the fuck eh was feeling so sappy. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating (even though that’s exactly what he wanted).
Ray doesn’t hate Brad, but he just hates whenever he talks to you. He sees the two of you, smiling and laughing as you catch u[. Ray knows it’s rude, but he buds in and offers to get drinks for the “three amigos”. You kindly accept and Ray goes away to get drinks. He makes sure to spit inside of Brad’s drink as a childish act of revenge.
As Ray walks down the hallway balancing the three drinks, he pauses to hide behind the door since he hear’s Brad mention his name. You and Brad had moved to the couch, sitting too close for Ray’s comfort levels. He had an arm slung over the couch, which was barely touching you, but Ray had taken it as an offense.
Standing by the doorway and leaning, he overheard Brad’s words.
“Ray’s a little shit, whiskey tango loser, sister fucking, type of man. I don’t know what you see in him,” Brad had casually said, cold and straight to the point. He truly lived up to his name.
That’s when Ray dropped the drinks and ran towards the bathroom. He didn’t hear you respond, and that was the last thing he needed to hear.
Now Ray’s sitting in the tub, no longer holding tears back, but there coming out. A sob escapes his mouth and he tries to smile, but he can’t. He gets a taste of his salty tears and tries to stop the waterworks, but they come back, bigger and faster. It’s been a while since he had a good cry-but it happened at one of the most inconvenient times. And it was over a stupid girl-who he coulnd’t deny that he was in love with.
But y/n was lightyears ahead of him. Besides, Brad was (seemingly) a better fit for her. The scenario began to play in Ray’s wild mind. The memories of “double trouble” will get erased. Their wedding will be small, paid for by the Colberts. Q-Tip will DJ, Godfather will make a speech with his horrid voice, and Ray will make a shitty joke as usual. Worst had come to the worst.
Ray hears a drunk Q-tip sing along through the door to “I wanna dance with somebody”. His feelings sink even deeper cause it makes him think; now there’s no one to make fun of drunk girls with anymore. That was y/n’s favorite hobby about these forced get-togethers.
Ray knew that at some point, he’d be forced to come out. As he chokes back the incoming tears, he waits until his face becomes dry, planning to blame it on weed or something in his eyes or the five bud lights he regrets drinking.
Knock, knock, knock, knock
Ray looks up and wipes his face, forcing a fake laugh. “Oh hell yeah, I'll be out soon.”
“Ray, it’s me.” It’s y/n’s voice, and Ray can’t believe it’s her. A part of him wants her to come in, but the other part wants him to defend himself.
“Why do you want me to come out when you can hang out with your new big strong viking? Who talks all educated and shit since you just love being around him.” Ray spits out with a few sniffles.
Based on his words and the sniffles, you can tell something is clearly wrong.
You shake your head and lightly knock again, “Please, that’s not what happened. Brad’s an idiot, and we’re just friends. “Please, come out.”
Ray got out from the tub and came close to the door, feeling your frantic breathes again the door. “My biggest mistake was showing up. I wished I stayed up watching cable porn, or I offered myself. Besides, he’s better for you. Just go away.”
Hearing him say such things made you worry even more, afraid that he could do something to himself that he’d regret.
“Ray, open the damn door. Don’t say dumb shit.” You pleaded, frantically twisting the door knob. The worry was evident in your voice.
“No, fuck you! Fuck this whole place. You’re smart; just leave me alone.” Ray banged against the door as tears came down his face. He immediately regretted his choice of words, knowing that they would hurt you. He turned away to return to the bathtub, only to stop when he heard you now sniffling.
Mega fuck.
Ray reluctantly walks back to the door and opens it, to see your face, all red and wet like this. Both of you stood there, disheveled, tears both running down your face.
Not a single word was spoken between the two of you as you ran into his arms, pulling him close as you cried into his chest. Ray used his foot to slam the door shut and then proceeded to pull you into a bearhug, stroking the back of your head as he comforted you through your sobs.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He repeated as his tears stained your shoulder as well, “I didn’t-fuck. I’m such a retar-” He froze, knowing that you hated that word. “Idiot. I just-fuck. Don’t cry. You’ll ruin all the stuff on your face-”, Ray said as he tilted your face up and started to wipe your tears.
“Makeup. ‘S fine, I’m not wearing much. I just didn’t wanna get mistaken for a middle schooler again.”
Ray and you both let out a chuckle in the midst of your shared crying session. He’s still wiping the tears from your face as you rest your arms on his waist.
“First time we met, y’know. Godfather thought you had a dick for a long time.” Ray added, which earned another laugh from you.
You shook your head, “Remember when Trombley found out I was a girl?”
“Looked like he was about to shit himself-he wouldn’t leave you alone.”
“Ugh, ‘s a nightmare.” The two of you filled the void with the awakened laughter you shared. Ray’s tiny hands moved to your chin, directing it slightly up.
“I still think you’re pretty hot either way, angel.” Ray confessed. The two of you looked at each other for a minute, seeing the love and pupils widen in both of your eyes. Standing on your toes, you and Ray’s lips gently pecked at each other. You could taste the bud light on his lips as Ray’s lips overpowered yours, gently cupping and sucking passionately.
“Fuck,” Ray breathed through the kiss as your foreheads touched, “I love you.”
“Shit, I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” You chuckled as your finger’s played with Ray’s dark hair. It’s gotten longer, and it’s at a length where he can awkwardly style it, but since Ray is Ray-it’s a mess, “I love you too. I’m sorry about Brad, you know how he is.”
“I just thought you and him were having a moment. I just started overthinking it since I thought you didn't wanna be around me. Which is chill, I was vibing,” Ray attempted to joke, which was a way to cope with his pain.
You shake your head and hold his face to reassure him. Ray looks down at you in awe, which makes a smile curve on your lips.
“Brad wasn’t touching me, he just was stretched out on the couch. Ray, don’t say that. You were in the bathroom for over an hour. I knew that you were ethier upset or having explosive diarrhea from Nate’s vegan casserole-or both.”
“That shit was beyond nasty. I bet he got all the ingredients at Trader joes and sold his soul just to buy it.” Ray quickly quipped.
“Jesus, don’t make me vomit.” You huffed as you looked at the bathtub, “Now are you gonna come out now without beating up someone?”
“Yes babycakes, as long as you do one thing.”
Cringing, you force a smile. It’s not because you don’t love him, but sometimes what comes out of his mouth can be questionable. “Yes Ray?”
He grabs your hand, which fits right into his. “Gotta show the homies who’s the alpha around here.”
You don’t mind holding Ray’s hand. You like the tight squeezes and the feel of his soft skin. As the two of you walk out of the bathroom back into the life of the party with the smell of barbeque and the august heat in the air.
“Oh god Ray, shut up.”
Ray simply responds with a goosey laugh.
#ray person#ray person x reader#ray person imagine#generation kill#generation kill x reader#generation kill imagine#carrie writes#tw suicide#tw ptsd#tw severe anxiety
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Comfort in My Shadow
Chapter 2: Right Through You
By @iwritedumbshit for @iron-mum
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, James “Rhodey” Rhodes
Summary: Soulmates are definite in the universe. Nobody knows exactly why they exist, or what dictates who is bonded to who, the only thing known is that they are never wrong. But Peter’s not so sure about that.
Living at the group home had taught Peter a lot about laying low and how to stay alive when nobody cares. But he’d always clung to the hope of the shadow at his feet reflecting his soulmate that had watched over him for years.
Typical that his soulmate is actually a superhero that Peter is convinced shouldn’t want anything to do with him. Maybe, just this once, the Universe was wrong.
But Tony Stark is desperate to prove that it is right.
Ch 1 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8
---
"I'm sorry." It was the last thing Spider-Man said before he swung away, swallowed by the darkness of an alleyway. It was a whimpered choke. Fearful.
"No! Wait--" Tony tried to call, but it was too late. The man was gone. No. Not a man. A fifteen year old. Tony glanced down at his shadow and then back at where Spider-Man had disappeared. Spider-Man was his soulmate. And he was fifteen. Tony had to catch himself against the wall as his chest squeezed painfully tight and his throat closed up in panic, barely managing to mutter out, "Jesus Christ. Fifteen."
That was horrifying on an entirely different level than what had just transpired. Not only had his soulmate flinched away from him and then run off the first chance he'd gotten, he was swinging around the streets of New York and putting himself in danger and he was a kid. Did his parents know? Maybe that was why the kid had run off so quickly. He'd freaked out so horribly when he'd realized the time that Tony had to blink away the horrible memories of his own father with his backhanded slaps and harsh words that had stung even more.
Tony sucked in a cold breath as he stared at the spilled hot chocolate mixing with his own dropped coffee. How often had Spider-Man been hurt? On the street or at home? Suddenly all Tony knew was terror at the implication and newfound knowledge of just exactly who his soul was connected to. Just who the shadow that had been with him for fifteen years really had been. And all he knew was the horrible guilt that he clearly wasn't what his soulmate had been looking for. Could soulmates be wrong? Knowing himself, it was possible.
The mechanic shook his head furiously, forcing himself to stop leaning on the wall and take a deep breath. He'd found his soulmate--sort of--and he wasn't about to just let them go that easily. If he could just have one good conversation, preferably without that mask, about their connection, everything would be okay. Or, it could at least be resolved. If the kid didn't want to know him, didn't want to be his soulmate--well...
Tony sniffed, snatching the cups off of the pavement and throwing them in the trash. He'd cross that bridge when he got to it.
Tony began to make his way back to the tower, his steps slow and stumbled, eyes fixated on his shadow whenever it came into view. After a few minutes, the hood disappeared and fuzzy hair took its place. Well, now he knew why his shadow always looked like they were bald in the afternoon and at night.
"Friday," Tony started, his glasses lighting up at the call of his voice. "I need a full search of the city. As in-depth as you can get it. Follow Spider-Man, look for his identity, and focus on kids born on August tenth, 2001."
"There are six hundred thirteen people born on that day currently living in New York."
"Okay, filter out for boys in Queens. Between 5'7" and 5'9."" He paused, thinking about the fingers that he'd seen through Spider-Man's gloves. "Lighter skin, too."
"I have forty-two possible matches."
"Well, it's better than six hundred," Tony sniffed. "Keep an eye on them, and keep a special eye on Spidey. If he looks like he's in a situation he can't handle, alert me. Or just tell me the next time he pops up."
"Of course, sir," Friday agreed. "What shall I file this under?"
Tony mused for a moment. "Create a new file, and place it on my private server. Name it 'The Itsy Bitsy Spider.'"
Hopefully he'd have a face to that protocol soon.
---
Peter stumbled up to the front door of the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys, his breaths quick and furious as he scrambled for a decision. After escaping from Mr. Stark's disappointment, he'd fled across the bridge and eventually found an alleyway to change into where his spidey sense had finally calmed down. Cameras were following Peter now wherever he went as Spider-Man now, he was sure, so he'd had to be painfully and slowly careful. Finding an alleyway out of the sight of any cameras had been simple enough, but it would be relatively easy for Mr. Stark to triangulate his location, so Peter had changed and thrown on a hood and forced himself to become lost in the New York crowd of people on the night shift or party-goers higher than a kite.
So far, the teenager thought he'd managed to get away with it, but he'd have to be more careful about when he went out if he didn't want Mr. Stark to find out who he was. The man already seemed disappointed to find out his soulmate was Spider-Man, he couldn't imagine what realizing it was actually Peter Parker would do to him.
Peter swallowed down the trepidation that bubbled under his skin in boiled anxiety as he shuffled in front of the door to the group home. Maybe Mr. Fowler hadn't realized he was late and he could try and sneak in through the window instead of being caught outside the door. Then again, if he did know, he was likely waiting for Peter to slip in that way and catch him red-handed. The real question was what would end in less punishment?
The teenager's musings were cut short by a spike in spidey sense and the wrenching open of the chipped red door, bringing with it the dangerous stench of stale beer. Mr. Fowler's displeased grin froze Peter to the floor in terror until an outstretched hand reached out and gripped his arm in a vice. "You're late."
Peter held back a wince as he was pulled in through the door, forcing himself to stumble along as the door was slammed shut behind him, rattling the old building. Mr. Fowler dragged him towards the dining room as he rushed to apologize. "Sorry, Mr. Fowler. I--I didn't mean to! I just got caught up on the subway and my phone died and--"
"I've heard that one before," the man snapped. Peter's jaw clamped shut with an audible click. He bit his tongue to keep his feeble excuses from escaping as he was pushed into a chair roughly. The man's hand gripped onto Peter's shoulder painfully tightly, but the liquor on his breath kept the boy glued to the chair more obediently than anything else. "Now where have you actually been, Peter?"
"I-I didn't mean to be late," he tried again. "I was just--"
There was a harsh smack to the back of his head, whipping it forward. Peter winced, but it didn't really hurt, so he forced himself to sit still. He was fine. Mr. Fowler couldn't really hurt him, and even if he did, it didn't matter. Peter would heal. Every bruise he'd ever gotten here had always been gone by the morning.
"Enough with the excuses, Pete," Mr. Fowler ordered. "I just need an answer for the report now that I have to write up your next strike."
Peter flinched. The system at the Queens Pinehill Group Home for Boys was extremely strict. Three strikes and you're out. Peter already had one strike when Mr. Fowler had caught him sneaking an extra snack after dinner. He'd been drunk then too.
Four strikes meant that Peter would be moved to another home for "troubled teens." That he'd attend another school and have to forge a new system of being Spider-Man. And, most importantly, it meant he'd be leaving the younger kids here to Mr. Fowler's wrath by themselves. Peter was the second oldest at the group home of six. Jeremiah was the oldest, but he'd be aging out in barely a month, leaving Peter to try and take care of the others, all no older than twelve.
Peter would heal, they wouldn't. It was as easy as that. But it didn't seem like Peter was going to escape this strike and that he'd have to be careful about even thinking about patrolling for a few weeks. Then again, with Mr. Stark possibly looking for him, maybe it was for the best. And it would just be for a little bit. Just a little bit.
There was a horrible shiver up the teenager's spine, and Peter had to force himself to stay still as there was another slap to his head, this one harder than before. He bit his lip as Mr. Fowler leaned in closer, the staleness of liquor on his breath making the boy's nose crinkle in barely concealed disgust.
"Listen to me when I'm talking to you, son," Mr. Fowler sneered. "Failure to do so can end in another strike, y'know. Two in one day and you'll be shipped off to Jersey tomorrow morning. So?"
Peter took a deep breath through his nose and grit his teeth. He knew what the man wanted to hear. What he wanted to put in Peter's file. It seemed to be a personal pleasure of his to fuck with his file, and all the other boys' really, as much as humanly possible.
"I was out goofing off with some friends. We were smoking and throwing cans at cars and I lost track of time."
Mr. Fowler tutted. "So irresponsible, Pete. I will have to write that up, y'know, and you'll receive the usual grounding. One week. Now why don't you go and head to bed?"
It wasn't a question, so Peter stood shakily and forced himself near the stairs, knowing better than to ask if he'd get some kind of food before he went to sleep. He wouldn't be getting any dinner for the entirety of his grounding anyway. Peter was lucky that he got away without any bruises, instead only escaping with a dull pain in the back of his head.
He slipped up the stairs and into the room he shared with Jeremiah and Tim. Jeremiah had his back turned to Peter, clearly just fixed to keep his head down for the next month, but Tim was sat up straight in bed, bright black eyes staring at Peter in awed worry. The teenager forced himself to look away, instinctively turning to his dull shadow but snapping away from that as well to stare at his bed instead.
"Go to sleep, Tim. You have school tomorrow."
"But, Peter--"
"Go to sleep, Tim," he said again, a little more forcefully this time. Tim stared at him for another painful moment before slipping down under his covers and turning to face the wall opposite Peter. It dragged a stone of guilt into his stomach, but Peter just couldn't at the moment. Even as he changed out of his ratty clothes into even rattier pajamas, the new knowledge of who his shadow really was wouldn't leave.
Peter turned the light off in the hall and closed the door to him and the other boys' room, grateful for the first time in his life to see his shadow disappear. He knew he was being just a little ridiculous, it wasn't like Mr. Stark hated him or anything, at least, Peter didn't think he did. But, well, the teenager was exactly that; a teenager. One that was poor and alone and had superpowers that he used to do little good deeds around his neighborhood. And Mr. Stark was Mr. Stark. The universe had to have been wrong this one time.
And what was worse was that Peter had just run away. He'd acted like an overdramatic romcom character when discovering that their soulmate was the quarterback they hated or something. It was possibly the worst part of all of this.
Peter kept in a sigh as he dropped onto his old mattress, pulling the lumpy covers over himself and squeezed his eyes shut in a half-assed attempt to bully out the pain of hunger in his stomach and the ache of undeserved longing in his heart. He so desperately wanted to be able to know his soulmate, but there was no way that Mr. Stark would be excited to actually know him. Besides, Mr. Stark pushed the Accords, and Peter was an unlicensed vigilante on the street. It was the man's job to find out who he was and turn him in.
Being soulmates didn't change that, even as his vision flashed to show a dark and fancy lab. Well, now he knew why his soulmate had always had such nice stuff.
---
"You what?"
"I found my soulmate," Tony snipped. "Keep up, honey bear. You're losing your touch, old man."
Rhodey ignored his comment, still staring at Tony from where he sat on a box in the Avengers common room that was probably filled with either dishes or Avengers gear. Tony passed the colonel a horribly green smoothie that he accepted without complaint, still staring at Tony but this time with a wide smile on his face.
"You really found him? Just walking around Manhattan?" Rhodey asked.
"Well, technically someone was trying to kidnap me, but sure."
"I'm sorry. What?"
"Relax. Everything turned out fine since my soulmate showed up."
Rhodey gave him a look, eyes glancing from the billionaire to the short shadow on the ground. "Your soulmate who is fifteen, saved you from a kidnapping?"
"Well, yeah. But he's got superpowers, so I don't think it was much of a sweat for him."
"Super--who the hell is your soulmate? Is this Twenty Questions? First guess: Ant Man."
"Hardy har," Tony joked. "No, not Lang. It's the spider kid."
Rhodey paused. "You have no idea who he is, do you?"
Tony shrugged, twirling the straw of his own green smoothie for a slight distraction from the fact that his soulmate had flinched and then ran away from him. It had kept him up with an anxiety-filled kind of drive as he'd tried to pick out which of the kid's was his little shadow. He'd only managed to weed out a few of the kids of the forty-something.
"No. He, uh, ran away. Friday's on the job looking for him right now, but he's a slippery one, 'cause, uh, no luck so far."
"I'm sorry, man," Rhodey apologized. "That sucks. Do you...do you know why he ran?"
"Something about a curfew."
"Then maybe he'll be out soon looking for you. Once school is out for the day, of course."
"Yeah. Maybe," Tony agreed, but he thought differently. The shake in the kid's voice, the flinch as he'd ducked away from Tony's hand, and the horrible defensive tenseness when he'd looked away from their switched shadows to look at him. He didn't think Spidey was exactly thrilled, or that he'd be looking for a way to tell the billionaire exactly who he was.
"Any flashes?" Rhodey asked. Tony hummed in confusion. "Since you realized you were soulmates?"
"Oh, uh, just a room last night. I don't know, it was pretty hard to make out." Tony had turned off all the lights in his lab once he'd arrived in it, hoping for some kind of flash of where his soulmate was. It had been reassuring to see the connection still intact, but it wasn't like the dark and bare bedroom had been much help. "I think he has siblings or something. There was another bed in there. Oh, add that to the search engine, Friday."
"Of course, sir. Now down to twenty-eight kids."
Tony smiled. Maybe he was actually getting somewhere.
---
"You what?"
"Shut up, Ned," Peter shushed, curling forward in another sit-up to hiss at his best friend who was staring at him in amazement. Ned didn't seem deterred in the slightest, but at least his voice dropped to match Peter's hushed whisper.
"I can't shut up. I'll never be able to shut up again! You met Tony Stark last night! This is the greatest day of my life."
"It really wasn't that big of a deal," Peter lied. He had conveniently left out the part where the billionaire was his soulmate, and considering Ned's reaction of his just meeting the guy, Peter was going to keep that to himself for the time being. Or forever. Whichever came first. Ned continued to stare at him in astonishment, and Peter relented as he curled up again. "Okay, it was pretty cool. He bought me a drink."
"What, like a beer?"
"No, Ned, a hot chocolate."
"Ohhh. That makes more sense."
"Yeah," Peter agreed. "And keep it down. Please? I don't need anyone thinking I drank last night. Mr. Fowler already put a new load of bullshit on my record and you know all the teachers get updates on the shit I do."
Ned's eyes darkened. "He gave you another strike?"
"Yeah," Peter panted, curling up faster as anxiety pumped underneath his skin. "My fault. Stupid. Shouldn't have been late."
"How late were you?"
"Like, ten minutes I think."
Ned spluttered, "But it was just ten minutes!"
"Mr. Fowler's a rule stickler," he half-truthed. Ned didn't need to know how shitty his group home leader was. "I'll just have to be more careful for a while and get back on his good side." Like Mr. Fowler had a good side. "It'll be fine in another week or two."
Ned clearly wanted to protest more, his friend was always so suspicious of Mr. Fowler and so insistent that Peter should just tell the man that he was Spider-Man and that he was helping people. Well, Ned thought they should tell everyone that he was Spider-Man, clearly thinking that it would help him get away with late assignments or missing curfew, but really it would only succeed in him getting arrested. Besides, now that Mr. Stark might be looking for him, he was determined more than ever to keep his identity safe.
Coach Wilson passed by, complementing, "Looking good, Parker."
Peter slowed down, faking a tired grimace and just wishing with every fiber of his being that PE would be over soon.
"So I guess that's a no on Liz's party, then?" Ned asked. Peter turned away from watching Coach Wilson walk away to stare at his friend.
"Liz is having a party?"
"Yeah? She talked about it last decathlon practice. Were you not paying attention?"
"I guess not. My bad," he mumbled. "Is it tonight?"
"Yeah, but you're probably in trouble aren't you?"
"Yeah," Peter agreed, thinking about the dinner he was going to miss tonight. Then again, if he went to the party, not only would Liz be there, but there'd probably be some snacks too. "But my curfew doesn't change."
"It doesn't?"
"I don't think it ever will. Like I said, Mr. Fowler is a stickler for rules, and the curfew is his favorite. It's completely unmovable in his mind."
"Weird."
"Yeah. He's pretty strange," Peter agreed. "So, what time tonight?"
"Seven, I think. And anyway, remember my idea about telling everyone that you're--"
"No, Ned. We're not telling people that I'm--" he lowered his voice dramatically, "--that I'm Spider-Man."
Ned pouted. "Fine. But could you, I don't know, appear as Spider-Man?"
"What? Why?"
"C'mon! Think about how cool it would be if you dropped down and were like, 'Hey, Ned! Whattup? Where's my buddy, Peter? 'Cause we're besties and I'm a cool superhero!' Wouldn't that be cool!?"
Peter stared.
"Ned, literally no one cares about Spider--"
"Now, see, for me, it would be F Thor, marry Iron Man, and kill Hulk," came the voice of the girl's sitting on the bleachers. Peter and Ned turned to listen.
"Well, what about the Spider-Man?" Charles asked.
"It’s just Spider-Man," Betty replied. Peter raised an eyebrow at Ned in a way that meant, See?
"Did you guys see the bank security cam on YouTube? He fought off four guys," Liz argued, her voice climbing just a little higher. Peter's eyes widened.
"Oh my God, she’s crushing on Spider-Man."
"No way."
Liz shrugged, tugging a strand of hair behind her ear. "Kind of?"
Peter turned back to Ned. "Yeah. Okay, sure, I'll bring the suit."
---
"Thank you, Mrs. Leeds!" Peter called, waving at the woman through her beat up green Toyota. She waved back at him and Ned with a cheery smile.
"See you two boys later! I'll be back at nine to make sure you're home on time, Peter."
"Thank you!" he said again as she drove off.
"Bye, Mom!" Ned said. There were a few looks sent their way, but Peter didn't really care. Even when Flash liked to humiliate him in front of the other kids at school, Peter never felt more than surface level embarrassment. He was past the point of caring about high school drama, but Ned ducked his head nervously, readjusting his new hat. His friend turned to him and whispered, "Dude, you have the suit right?"
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Peter gestured to his backpack. "Yeah."
"This is gonna change our lives," Ned squeed as they stepped up the driveway. Liz had a large house on a well-lit street in the suburbs. He could see even more colorful lights inside, just as bright as the music was, and anxiety rolled in his chest. He didn't care about what other people thought of him, he really didn't, but he couldn't stop the nerves at such an unfamiliar environment.
Peter stared down at his shadow on instinct, searching for comfort in the familiar fluffy hair. Catching himself, he forced himself to turn away and stare forward as he stepped through the door behind Ned.
He almost stumbled back as the noise hit him. There was the movement of chatter and the blaring of shitty and loud music. Peter stared as some girls walked past, swallowing nervously as his gaze went from them, to Flash DJ-ing, and then landing on Michelle, who glared at them as she spread jam on a piece of toast.
"Can’t believe you guys are at this lame party," she said. Peter frowned in confusion.
"But you’re here too," Ned said, confused hesitation taking up his voice.
"Am I?" And then she stalked away. Peter and Ned glanced at each other in confusion.
Ned recovered first, tapping his backpack. "Okay, anyway, we’re gonna have Spider-Man swing in, say you guys are tight, and then I get a fist bump or one of those half bro-hugs and--"
"Oh, my gosh!"
Ned was cut off as Peter turned away from him to look at Liz. Redness flushed onto his cheeks as she approached them with a wide smile and a red cup in her hand.
"Hey, guys. Cool hat, Ned."
"Hi, Liz," Ned said with a wave.
"Hi, Liz," he said, cursing himself as his voice broke immediately.
"I’m so happy you guys came. There’s pizza and drinks. Help yourself."
Peter's stomach rumbled at the thought, but he forced it down with a smile and a warbled, "What a great party."
"Thanks," Liz smiled. There was the shattering of glass, making her turn sheepishly. "Oh, I... My parents will kill me if anything’s broken. I gotta--"
"Yeah."
"Have fun," she said, hurrying away. Ned turned to him furiously, gesturing to where the senior had left.
"Dude, what are you doing? She’s here. Spider it up."
Like a flip had been switched, Peter remembered that Iron Man was probably looking for him. No way he could get away with showing himself at a high school party. This would be all over social media in barely an hour. "No, no, no. I can’t... I cannot do this. Spider-Man is not a party trick, okay? Look, I’m just gonna...be myself."
"Peter, no one wants that."
"Dude," Peter snapped, but even as he walked away, he knew it was true. He thought of the image of Mr. Stark's face when he'd realized they were soulmates.
Now more than a little out of it, the teenager finally made his way through the house, searching desperately for wherever the pizza was. He didn't make it very far down the hall when there was the screech of his name over a microphone.
"Penis Parker, what’s up?!" Flash yelled over the microphone. People turned to stare at Peter and Ned, sneers or sympathetic smiles decorating their faces. Peter tensed, glancing over to Ned. "Thought you were stuck at the group home! And didn't you know you were supposed to dress nicely for a party?"
Ned gave Peter a look, and that was how the superpowered teen ended up on the roof in his shitty superhero costume with his mask in hand as he chewed his lip in jittered fear.
"Hey, what’s up?" he said in a deepened voice, grabbing his mask from the bag and straightening it out. "I’m Spider-Man. Just thought I’d swing by and say hello to my buddy Peter. Oh, what’s up, Ned? Hey, where’s Peter, anyways? He must be around..." Peter sighed, dropping his hands and digging his fingers into the mask as his brows furrowed. "God, this is stupid. What am I doing?"
Peter stared from the roof down at where Ned was waiting, looking around anxiously, his friend's shadow bright underneath the lights. He glanced out of the corner of his eye down at where his own was scrunched beside him, wondering what Mr. Stark was doing right now. Maybe he was doing cool Iron Man stuff in the lab he'd had a flash of. Maybe...maybe he was wondering what Peter was doing too.
Just as he was about to sigh about how unlikely that was, there was the sound of a distant crash and a plume of bright blue. He began to push himself up, leaning forward to try and get a better look at the thing as his senses rang.
"What the hell?"
Peter stuffed on his mask and swung away, making his way through the neighborhood. After running across an embarrassingly long golf course, the sprinklers biting against his skin with the freezing water, he finally arrived at where he'd seen the blue smoke. Spider-Man dipped himself low, clinging to a small bridge and popping his head around the corner.
There were three men, a broken down old car, and a classic kidnapper white van. Peter watched as one guy whooped at the explosion that burst out from the weapon in his hand against the car. The two other men cringed back as he flinched at the bright light. The man returned to the van, putting the gun down and grabbing another one. It looked extremely similar to the one that had been used against Mr. Stark last night.
"Now, this is crafted from a reclaimed sub-Ultron arm straight from Sokovia. Here. You try."
The guy passed the weird arm-gun to the man with curly hair, who examined it in confused disdain. "Man, I wanted something low-key. Why are you trying to upsell me, man?"
"Okay, okay, okay. I got what you need, all right?" the guy placated, moving back to look through the van. "I got tons of great stuff here. One sec. Okay, I got, uh, black hole grenades, Chitauri railguns..."
"You letting off shots in public now? Hurry up," the tallest one warned. He stepped up to the curly haired guy. The buyer, Peter guessed. "Look, times are changing. We’re the only ones selling these high tech weapons."
"Oh, so this is where bad guys are getting their stuff," Peter whispered to his shadow out of habit. He shook his head, glaring forward and away from where Mr. Stark's silhouette extended.
"I need something to stick up somebody. I’m not trying to shoot them back in time," the buyer complained.
"I got anti-grav climbers," the guy at the van suggested. That seemed to finally get the third man's attention.
"Yo, climbers?"
And then, of course, Peter's phone rang. Immediately guns were drawn, clicking towards the buyer as Peter tore his phone out of his pocket, almost swearing as he caught sight of Ned's caller ID and shutting it off.
"Okay, what the hell was that?"
"Did you set us up?"
"Hey, hey, man."
His senses ringing, Peter dropped from the bridge, catching the men's attention. "Hey! Hey, come on. You gonna shoot at somebody, shoot at me."
"All right."
The gun clicked towards him. Peter shot a web, tearing the gun away, and then ran forward. His senses spiked and then pain jolted through Peter as something bright smashed against his face. It launched the teenager straight into the leg of the bridge, the concrete crumpling under his force. He groaned in pain, forcing himself onto his elbows.
"What the hell?" he muttered. The revving of an engine tore his head to where the van was beginning to drive off. He shot a web to the back of the van, attempting to stick to the ground but only succeeding in being dragged away and onto the harsh road, eliciting a surprised yelp from the high schooler.
Spider-Man shot another web in an attempt to right his balance, gritting his teeth as the road tore at his skin. The van dragged him around, swerving intentionally and smacking Peter through at least five trash cans before finally losing him into a pillar of solid brick. He groaned in pain even as he pushed himself to his feet and shot another web. It attached to the door, ripping it to the ground with a metal screech. Peter threw his hands up in exasperation.
"Great! Guess I'm gonna have to take a shortcut."
Peter leaped over a car into a yard and then a few more yards. At least there was a cute dog, but he wished he'd had more time to play with it.
The superhero stumbled along after scaring a couple of girls--his bad, but they'd get over it eventually. Hopefully--diving over a fence and skimming over a pool in a crowd of people that stared at him in gawked surprise. He called, "Great movie!" before swinging up with a tree and landing just a little too hard on a nearby roof. He panted heavily even as he kept going. He caught sight of the white van.
"Almost got you," he said to himself. "Thought you got away from me, didn’t you? I got you right where I want you. Surprise!"
Finally close enough, Peter leaped from the roof. His spine shivered, his hairs raised, and his heart leaped in fear as metal claws clamped down around him. Peter screamed hoarsely, twisting in midair as he was propelled away from the ground at a frightening speed. "AgH! What the hell!!??"
Peter barely took in the large wings, instead focusing on digging his hands around the metal claws clenched around his ankle. Whoever the bird guy was, he certainly didn't appreciate it. Haunting green eyes met Peter's wide white. His heart beat rapidly. How high up was he? The ground below looked so tiny. At least there was water under him.
And then he wasn't so thankful as the metal digging into his feet released all of the sudden. Peter screamed as he fell, twisting in midair as he searched desperately for an escape. The water underneath him grew closer and closer and there was nothing for Peter to grab onto. Nothing to web. Oh no, oh no, oh no oh no oh no--
Peter slapped against the surface. All the air was forced from his lungs as he was carried under by the lapping waves.
---
"Sir--" Friday started. Tony didn't look up from where he was writing out code that he'd been pouring over for hours, going through every idea and web combination imaginable.
"Please don't turn down my music, honey," Tony said, swiveling in his rolly chair and wheeling over to the table where the webs he was in the process of replicating were beginning to formulate. He was on his fourth attempt now, and he was getting close. "I'm working."
"I am operating under the Itsy Bitsy Spider protocol."
Tony readjusted his glasses, turning away from where he was stirring the sticky formula to glance at the hologram of the suit. He'd been wondering when the kid would show up again. He hadn't been out all afternoon. "Yeah? What's up?"
In response, Friday popped up a video. It was clearly shot through a phone, shakily recording the kid skimming off of a pool before launching himself in the air. It dragged an amused smile from Tony, but it dropped as the next video played.
This one was clearly a security camera from the suburbs. The video was only a couple seconds long as a shuddering white van sped past the house, smoke flying from behind it. There was a bright purple shot and then Tony finally managed to catch sight of the bright red and blue suit being dragged along. Tony turned to his shadow, staring at where the hood was pulled up.
"What the hell have you gotten yourself into now, kid?" he asked it. "How old is this video?"
"Barely a minute."
Tony glanced at the unfinished suit and then back at the video playing on a loop. He guessed the suit would have to wait.
"Get me Mark Forty-Eight and take me to where this video was taken. Quickly, dear."
The suit activated across the room, stepping out of its case and allowing for Tony to be covered by it. The screen lit up immediately, his path highlighted to where the nearest window had opened. Tony shot out into the New York night, his heart beating rapidly. The kid had to be okay, right? He probably dealt with weird shit all the time.
The thought didn't stop the mechanic from being nervous. The kid was fifteen after all. He wasn't exactly equipped for this kind of thing.
It took barely a couple of minutes for Tony to arrive at the street where the video had been taken. There was a burn mark on the road, but no Spidey, and no sign of that van. He hovered, scanning for where the kid could be.
"Heat signatures, Fri. Give me something to work with."
His screen lit up, orange and red figures milling about in houses. There were a few people walking streets over, a car roving by slowly, a clash of body heat that made him think of a party, and a red dot hurtling out of the air ever closer to the river. Wait--
Tony fixated on where the red dot was slowly approaching the water, his heart pounding. "What is that? Friday, zoom in."
The video clipped towards the red dot, and Tony gasped as he recognized a body twisting through the air. And not just any body.
Spidey.
His thrusters whined before forcing the suit forward towards the dot that had disappeared from view. He turned in air, hovering over the body of water, before glancing down with a fearful swallow. A heat signature was illuminated.
"Kid," he gasped.
Tony dove down immediately and broke through the water's surface. It was dark underneath, but he could make out where the kid was. He wrapped his metal arms under the kid's armpits before shooting back into the blissfully cold air.
"I've got you, kid. I've got you."
Spidey didn't respond.
Ch 1 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8
#friendly neighborhood exchange#tony stark#peter parker#Iron Man#spiderman#irondad#spiderson#ironman fanfiction#spiderman fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#irondad and spiderson#soulmate au#platonic soulmates#not st*rker
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Quiet (Midoriya/Reader | Angst)
| A/n: You know there are some days I question how psychotic I have to be to find pleasure in the suffering that comes when writing angst. *le sad* |
| See part 2 ... here |
✧❀ Warnings: Angst, unresolved feelings, big sad mood. ❀✧
✧❀ Words: 2800+ ❀✧
| Summary: As Izuku continues to chase his dreams you find yourself being pushed to the side until it seems you’ve been forgotten, and yet you keep quiet. But it seems today that the very person who forgot about you wants nothing more than to talk to you. |
. . .
You bit your lip. Buried your teeth into your tongue. Puffed out your cheeks and bit the insides of them. You kept your mouth shut for a long time, perhaps too long you supposed as you watched a familiar head of wild green hair walk past you along with Iida and Ochako.
You held your breath, closed your eyes, clenched your teeth. You wondered if things would have been different had you swallowed your damn fears and said something. Your eyes followed him as far as they could before he was just too far away.
You took in a deep breath and started walking. You had no real idea where; you kept moving until you were stepping inside of a cafe just off-campus. Your ears perked up at the sound of Midoriya’s voice and Ochako’s laughter, followed by a brief lecture from Iida. You turned to see the trio seated in one of the booths.
Midoriya’s face turns to the entrance of the cafe, but you’re already gone.
You close your eyes, knaw at your nails, and roll your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You wait for the pedestrian walk light to show before crossing the street, walking away from the cafe. As you walk, you don’t notice Midoriya looking out the entrance of the cafe. He deflates when he spots you walking away.
Iida and Ochako come up behind Deku to ask him why he’d gotten up so fast.
“I don’t get it, I was certain she went here every day.” Midoriya sighs and Uraraka places a hand on his shoulder. “I even asked Ashido to be sure.”
“Maybe we’ll see her later, don’t give up yet, Deku.” She reassures him, and he puts on a determined face, nodding in agreement.
. . .
You strolled into a familiar shop, smiling at the clerk who recognized you straight away, corralling you into an aisle of books with their newest releases. You skim the covers with your eyes, reaching out to pull a book out and flip through the pages every now and then. A book with skeletal cats and a red and black color scheme caught your eye and you picked it up, opening it up to look through it.
In your distracted state, smiling down at the pictures of cats above each page of text, you almost don’t catch three familiar voices as they wander into the shop. Midoriya approaches the front desk and the clerk greets all three of the students, asking what they were looking for. As they are distracted, you shut the book and place it back on the shelf, holding your breath as you discreetly slipped out of the shop, making eye contact with the clerk on your way out who seems to realize what’s going on.
“Actually we’re looking for a friend, we were told she comes through here often,” Midoriya admits sheepishly, hands wringing anxiously as the woman places a hand to her chin as if to think. “Y-you wouldn’t happen to have seen her today have you?”
“Is she the quiet one? Er… L/N, I think it was?” She wonders, and Midoriya perks up at the sound of your name.
“Yes, that’s her!” Deku smiles, eyes bright and hopeful, and the clerk can’t help but smile.
“Well, I’m afraid you just missed her, sorry kid.” She sighs.
“Oh…” Midoriya shrinks a little, clearly dejected by the news. And once again, Ochako comforts him, a hand on his back as he wracks his brain for another solution. “Well, she couldn’t have gone far, right?”
The three exit the store in search of the ghost of you.
. . .
You arrive at your final routinely spot of the day, smiling at the blissfully unoccupied picnic table tucked away at the edge of the park just by the forest, separated by a leaning chain-link fence. You look up at the dimming sky, the slight smell of rain and wood calming your nerves. You slide onto the rotting-wooden bench of the picnic table, pulling your knees to your chest in a comfortable balled-up position.
You pull down your hood and pull out your phone, putting in your earbuds and looking up at the sky, watching the sun draw ever closer to setting; waiting for the stars to come out.
Just as the green-haired boy starts to worry that he’s already missed you, he spots your small form at a picnic table at the edge of the park. He lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of you sitting still and not walking away. He gets Iida and Ochako’s attention and points to you, and they look equally relieved to have finally caught up to you after a whole day of hunting.
“Well, I’m afraid this is where we part, Midoriya I hope all goes well with L/N.” Iida salutes and the other two chuckle at their friend’s eccentric behavior.
“Thank you, Iida, I appreciate your help today.” Midoriya thanks him, bowing his head in gratitude and waving at him as he leaves the park to walk back on campus.
Ochako turns to face him and gestures for him to take a deep breath with her, knowing how nervous he must be.
“You’ve got this, Deku, I believe in you!” Uraraka whisper-shouts, raising her hand to offer a fist-pump which he gratefully accepts.
Once Uraraka is out of sight, Midoriya turns around and starts to make his way towards the relaxed shape of you.
“Okay, big breaths…” He mutters to himself as he approaches you, one big ball of anxiety. He stops a few feet away, just to admire you as you watched the sky without a care in the world, a small smile on your lips as your eyes traveled from star to star. “You can do this, Deku.” He tries to pep himself up, though the moment you shift he freezes and almost dashes off.
You uncurl from your ball and stretch your limbs out, turning your head away from the sky to change the song on your phone when you notice a shadow looming over you. You knit your brows together in confusion and turn around, heart leaping into your throat and forcing a gasp from it as you spot Deku a few feet away who stiffens as well when he meets your wide eyes.
You remove your earbuds and pull your knees back up to your chest, mouth opening several times to ask what he was doing here, but each time you clamped it back shut.
“U-Uh h-hey, Y/N-chan! fancy seeing you here I was just looking—p-passing through.” Midoriya babbles with a nervous smile, trying to formulate a proper sentence. Though finally talking to you face-to-face suddenly became more difficult than he remembered. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”
You bite your tongue, hold your breath, clench your teeth. Anything to keep the words from spilling. Words you’ve kept down for months.
You can’t just say nothing though.
“Hey, Midoriya.” Is all you can manage before biting down on your tongue again, avoiding his eyes. You know it’s not enough to weasel out of the conversation so you add, “Don’t worry about me, I should be going now anyway.”
Deku’s eyes widened when you got up from the picnic table, shoving your phone in your pocket, ready to leave. He panics, wracking his brain for the right words to say to stop you. Instead, his hand shoots out before he can stop it and grabs your hand.
“No, please don’t go yet!” He blurts out, sounding desperate as you halt all movement and look back at him with wide eyes. Your gaze drifts between his face and his hands as it grasps yours, lips parted in surprise. “I… can we talk for a minute?”
Why? Why does he want to talk now? What could you possibly have that he wants to talk to you about after months of distance, almost a year of growing apart until you had no part in his life?
“Um.” You gesture at his grip on your fingers and he turns bright red, flushing from his neck to his ears. He jerks his hand away from yours and squeezes out a ‘sorry!’
Despite your conscience, the voice telling you to just leave, you sit back down on the rotting bench looking expectantly at him as he stands there.
“Are you going to sit down?” You ask flatly, and the boy jumps with a ‘right’, scrambling to sit down beside you.
It’s quiet.
“Y/N?” Midoriya starts out, and you grimace at the sound, not liking the way each syllable fell from his lips in that nervous voice of his.
“Don’t act like we’re familiar.” You hiss, letting the annoyance slip out into your tone.
He stares for a moment, and you don’t miss the hurt that flashes behind those big green eyes of his. He looks like he wants to say something but can’t quite find the words. Why did it make you feel bad that you had plenty of things to say and he had none?
“We’re… not?” Midoriya asks, the sound small in his throat.
What were you talking about? ‘don’t act like we’re familiar?’ The green-haired boy vividly remembers a time when you were very close, and he was the only one that was allowed to use your first name, the only one that could talk to you longer than five minutes without you closing off. You used to come over for playdates at his house and build blanket forts so you could read All Might comics and share dumb secrets. He can’t think of a time he wasn’t familiar with you, even if you had grown apart since you started high school.
You still kept in touch over text and he invited you over to study every now and then.
But now that he thinks of it, he can’t remember the last time he texted you. He can’t recall the last time you had a meaningful conversation outside or inside of school. But even if you didn’t see each other as much, he still considered you his friend. And he’s been crushing on you since middle school. Have you really become unfamiliar with one another?
You haven’t been close lately, sure, but hearing you say that hurt his feelings.
“Don’t act surprised.” You groan, looking up at the sky. Did he really expect things to just be okay between you after basically ghosting you for almost a year? “This is the first time you’ve talked to me in months.”
Your words hit him hard, and he can feel the guilt crawling on his skin. He feels sick. He realizes just how true your words are when he tries to remember a time you talked in the past few months but couldn’t. It really has been that long.
“I-I’m sorry about that, I guess I was just… busy trying to become the number one h-hero you know?” He chuckles nervously, offering you a smile, hoping that maybe it would lift your spirits, or at least make you look at him.
“You never seem too busy for Ochako or Iida.” You deadpanned, resting your chin on your hand as you leaned over the picnic table. Midoriya’s eyes widened, and he tried to think of what to say, though he should have picked his words a bit more carefully because the next sentence even makes him wince as soon as it comes out.
“B-But that’s different.” Midoriya stutters, squinting his eyes shut and mentally kicking himself. What kind of excuse was that?
“How is it different?” You asked.
“I…” He couldn’t even answer you. What was he supposed to say? It wasn’t different, you were all in the same class, he had countless opportunities to talk to you and he just didn’t. “I’m sorry, that’s no excuse...”
He hangs his head low, owning up to it.
“Sorry for what? Not talking to me for months or thinking that you could just walk up to me and be all buddy-buddy again?” You had to admit that it sounded harsh, and perhaps you were being petty, but could he really blame you? You spent most of your childhood only sharing his attention with Kacchan, and suddenly there was no room in his life for you.
“Well, you could’ve talked to me too… you haven’t necessarily been the most sociable either.” He mumbles, twiddling his thumbs together.
“Oh, so now it’s my fault.”
He sits up straight raising his hands defensively as you scowl at him from over your shoulder, the bitterness of your tone sending him into panic mode. He hadn’t meant it that way, he would never blame you for this.
“N-no! That’s not what I meant at all!” Midoriya sputtered. “Y/N please hear me out—”
“L/N.” You corrected and Midoriya felt himself choke on the lump in his throat and the tears start to well up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry in front of you, he’d done that all the time when he was younger, and not once did you hesitate to comfort him no matter what he was crying about. Crying would solve nothing now.
“Y/N please, I-I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right to be. But please don’t do this, you-you’ve always been an amazing f-friend to me, please don’t shut me out now.” He whimpered, the tears starting to drip down his freckled cheeks.
“You’re the one who shut me out. Don’t twist things to fit into whatever narrative your imagination has written up.” You hissed.
“I didn’t! You keep saying that like I’m not trying to f-fix this, I care about you, and j-just because you stopped believing it doesn’t make it untrue.” Midoriya insisted.
“Fix what? Our friendship that you forgot about?” You scoffed, putting some distance between you on the bench. The resentment in your eyes as you say it shakes him to the core, terrifying him. The thought of you hating him makes him actually want to throw up, he feels nauseous just thinking about it.
“Please—” He chokes on a sob. “P-please don’t h-hate me, please don’t hate me.”
You stared down at the wooden patterns of the picnic table, trying to ignore the pathetic sobs and sniffles to your right. You hated seeing Izuku cry. You can remember a time you would’ve thrown hands for anyone who made him cry. It bugged you even now that you were the cause of his tears, but you were hurt too and no amount of tears can fix that. You didn’t hate him, you hated that this is what your long-term friendship had come to.
“I haven’t been a part of your life since we started high school, Izuku. Do you have any idea how I felt when we stopped talking? I thought that you were getting bored of me, that somehow I just wasn’t worth your time anymore.” You confessed, feeling the tears start to form in your own eyes. You hastily wiped them with the sleeve of your hoodie.
Midoriya sniffled, ears perking at the sound of his first name tumbling so unexpectedly from your lips. He missed being called Izuku, and he’d always admired the fact that you never stopped using it. He felt more and more terrible with every word that left your lips, letting him in on your perspective, how you had been feeling because of him.
Bored with you? Never! You were always so important, so unique to him. You were the only one who believed in him before he got a quirk.
“I figured that hey, maybe you were just busy and so I didn’t bother you. I thought that hey, once you’re not so busy you’d call me, or text me, or something. But… you didn’t and I… before I knew it, you had new friends, a new life,” You sniffled, unable to muffle the sound behind your sleeve this time and Izuku’s eyes widened in horror when he realized that you were crying. “Without me.”
Izuku sobbed into his hands, the tears rolling freely as he cried. You looked over at his trembling form, letting your own silent tears dampen your hoodie sleeve. One thing about Izuku that you had always admired was that he was never afraid to express himself. There wasn’t a moment in the world that he was insincere with his emotions, whenever he cried he cried for real. So unlike you and many others, bottling up their emotions and hiding their faces from others.
You couldn’t watch this anymore.
“I-I need to go.” You got up to leave again and Midoriya’s head shot up the moment you moved, teary eyes watching as you stood up. “Goodnight, Midoriya.”
And with that, you walked away. Izuku let his head fall into his hands, he pulled at his hair in frustration, clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles started to bruise. He cried harder than he had in a long time, muttering a million sorries into the night in hopes that if he said it enough you’d hear him, and forgive him.
But just like he did when you waited for him to call, to text, to say something… you stayed quiet.
#izuku midoriya x reader#midoriya izuku x reader#midoriya x reader#midoriya izuku#izuku midoriya x reader angst#angst#unresolved angst#bnha x reader#izuku x reader#mha x reader#bnha#mha#mha x you#bnha x you#my hero academia#bnha fanfiction
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hi hello could i maybe get "I don’t wanna die this way" for lone star? please hurt me however u choose
Hello^^ you certainly can 😌🌸
Don’t want to (die) | Marjan Marwani
Canon; A call goes awry and no one was expecting this outcome
Prompt: “I don’t wanna die this way”
Word count: 1515
CW: mentions of dying and medical emergencies
Send me prompts from the Penelope Scott lyrics list
***
It’s not a call that Michelle was ever expecting to get, or maybe it was something she just prayed would never happen. No amount of manifesting would prevent this, though, and Owen’s frantic tone over the radio had her heart dropping.
“Ladder 126, EMS needed immediately at our position,” Michelle wasn’t prepared for the words that followed, “Code 26.”
Injured firefighter, EMS required.
That had Nancy rushing for their bags from the rig, throwing them on the gurney as quickly as she could. Michelle was already running ahead, calling back for Tim to stay there and look after their patients, her own bag bouncing against her thigh with every movement. She cursed under her breath as she stumbled, worry for her crew clouding her awareness. Code 26, not an uncommon code in this line of work but certainly not one she had heard for a while. The last time she did must have been when TK was shot, which had been a whole other kind of chaos.
“Who?” she didn’t have any time for panic as she tried to depersonalize from it all, a hand falling on Judd’s shoulder to get his attention. The man looked at her through his visor, worry etched into his face as he pointed to where most of the crew was crowding around. This was just supposed to be a normal fire response, a small apartment complex with a fire on the third floor, and she was sure everyone had evacuated on time. She was only gone from the main scene for ten minutes, helping parents find their children and checking people for smoke inhalation and minor burns. They hadn’t had a firefighter injury in a while, this was such a minor scene she wasn’t sure how it had even happened. Judd seemed to be questioning the same thing but she didn’t have the time to consider how much his memories were haunting him at that moment.
“Marjan…”
Nancy had caught up with her by then and she nudged her Captain forward, though when their eyes met Michelle could tell she was just as worried. She could feel the pit of anxiety gnawing away at her stomach, her friend’s life at risk here. Still, they had to be smart about this, Marjan needed them and they would have to wait to feel later.
“Captain,” Michelle bounded over to the others, “What happened?”
Owen turned to look at her, standing up properly from his previously crouched position. Mateo was on the ground, looking like anxiety incarnate, and beside him was Marjan. Laying on the sooty asphalt with her turnout coat nowhere to be found and she looked worse for wear. Instead, her long sleeve was exposed and Michelle could see blood seeping from somewhere and covering the white fabric in a nauseating amount. She was on the ground with them in seconds, leaning over Marjan before Owen had even managed to speak.
“The ceiling,” it was TK who spoke instead, “She went back to get a kid… the building was unstable.”
“Someone decided it was a brilliant idea to take off her coat and cover the kid with it,” Judd interjected, “The smoke was disorienting and we couldn’t get to her in time. The lobby ceiling fell.”
Michelle was nodding but all of her attention was on Marjan, shining her penlight in her eyes and sighing when her pupils reacted properly. The woman in question was watching her weakly, her breathing unsteady but she was still alert enough to know what was going on. There didn’t seem to be any head or facial trauma, which was a relief, but her main worry was her abdomen.
“BP is high and she’s tachy,” Nancy told her as she leaned over with a stethoscope to confirm, speaking gently to Marjan before she did anything. Michelle was glad Nancy was there, her caring nature always helping to soothe their patients.
“Marjan, let me know if this hurts, okay?” She didn’t lift her shirt for the sake of her privacy and instead palpated the injured area over the soaked fabric. The gentle pressure had her crying out almost immediately, arms jerking up to cover her stomach. It was very un-Marjan like in nature, since she was always fearless and hated to seem weak. Michelle apologized gently but her concern was only rising with that reaction.
“Abdominal guarding and tenderness,” she turned to TK, “What fell on her?”
“A chair from the upper hallway along with a large chunk of the ceiling.”
“Damn,” she looked to Nancy again, “Notify the nearest hospital that we have an incoming patient with blunt force abdominal trauma. Looks like a couple broken lower ribs and I’m worried about her spleen.”
“Alright.”
“Request a female trauma surgeon if possible,” she added before looking back down at Marjan, “You with me, Mar?”
Never one to appear weak even on death’s door, Marjan nodded as much as she could, “Mhm.”
“Anything else hurt right now?”
“How a-about eve-everything…” she let out a shaky laugh, which only made her wince as it jostled her ribcage. That only solidified Michelle’s assumption about fractured ribs, which usually caused a rupture of the spleen in cases like this. She hadn’t seen anything pressing during her secondary assessment but she was worried about other internal injuries or shock setting in too fast.
“We’re going to get you on the backboard then, okay?” she motioned for Mateo to stand and grabbed the board from on top of the gurney, passing it over to Paul so he could slide it under her from his side. She crouched by her shoulder, catching her attention again.
“We’re going to roll you onto your side, you know the drill.”
The transfer was painful for everyone, with Marjan unable to hide her agony at being moved in such a way. They hated seeing her like this, knowing they were only causing her more pain, but it was necessary. She cried out as they slid the board under her body, allowing Michelle a second to check for any injuries on her back. Getting her up onto the gurney was less of an event, though her stats had dropped enough in the move for Nancy to get worried.
“Captain Blake,” she said, “BP dropped and O2 stats in the 80’s.”
“Okay, we need to get going, I’ll run oxygen in the bus.”
With that they transferred her across the parking lot, back to the safe area that had been designated for the civilians to gather. Tim was waiting among them, rushing over to ask what had happened. Michelle was preoccupied with talking to Owen, trying to tell him as simply as she could how her prognosis looked.
“She’ll need a CT to confirm but I think there’s a good chance her spleen ruptured,” she told him, “I know you needed to move her from the building but I do hope you all didn’t jostle her too much.”
“We were as careful as possible but I couldn’t risk anyone getting trapped,” he rubbed a hand over his face, “Take care of our girl, Michelle.”
“We’ve got her,” with that she hoisted herself into the back of the ambulance, beside Nancy who was already getting the oxygen mask situated for Marjan. Tim checked from the front to make sure they were ready and then started the rig, lights and sirens on the second they pulled out of the parking lot.
Michelle busied herself with starting an IV in her arm, knowing she would need fluids if they wanted to keep her stats relatively stable. Her oxygenation had improved but her blood pressure was still worrying, not to mention how thready her pulse seemed when Michelle pressed her fingers to her wrist momentarily. That was never a good sign, especially with the way her eyes unfocused and her response to stimuli had decreased.
“Marjan,” she leaned a bit closer to meet her glassy eyes, “You stay awake for me.”
“T-trying…” she murmured, “Hurts.”
“I know,” looking at her crewmate she asked for a dose of morphine that would hopefully help until they got her to the ER. Nancy administered the painkiller as quickly as she could, reminding Marjan that she was doing well and they would get her help.
When the other woman leaned towards the front to ask Tim about their ETA, Marjan reached out weakly. She caught Michelle’s hand, making the EMT look at her with concern.
“I-” she took a shaky breath and tried to blink away the tears that clouded her vision, “I don’t w-wanna… die this way.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Michelle told her firmly, “We’ve got you. You never let anything stop you before, Marjan, you can get through this.”
“M… Michelle?”
“I’m right here, Mar.”
“I-” her sentence never finished as the firefighter’s eyes rolled back slowly, unable to properly hear Michelle’s words of panic as she noticed what was happening. Marjan tried to stay alert, she really did, but the pain was too much. She felt like she was suffocating, the heavy weight in her abdomen slowly radiating up her body. She could feel hands on her, knew Michelle was with her, but she couldn’t focus. The only thing she was aware of was the aggressive beeping of the monitor that preceded her descent into unconsciousness.
#:)))#who wants to block me after this one#I do <3#this is unedited but it’s almost 3 am#911 ls#911 lone star#marjan marwani#michelle blake#owen strand#tk strand#paul strickland#judd ryder#mateo chavez#nancy gillian#tim rosewater#cj add this to your fic masterpost#asks#mutuals#firefighterstrand#userglow
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Jungkook x Reader
Title: 10 Floors Up
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Trigger Warnings: (mentions of) doxxing, severe anxiety disorder
Word Count: 1.6k
Pairing: Jungkook/Reader
You woke up knowing that today was going to be a rough one. From the moment you rolled out of bed, you could feel the lump rising in your throat, so thick you could barely breathe around it. The cold sweat started the moment you made your way out into the living room to start your coffee.
You could hear the low rumble of the crowd 10 stories below. It had been in the back of your mind through the entire night; you'd barely gotten an hour's sleep because of it. Peering out of the window, you catch sight of at least a hundred little phone cameras pointed up in your direction, in hopes of catching a glimpse of the Bangtan Booty Call, as several of the more crass tabloids had come to deem you. Within hours, you'd gone from being a nobody, to having your address leaked online, and swarms of photographers and lay-people alike were practically banging down your door. You were safe, of course; Jungkook had sent a security guard to stand watch over your door at night. But the idea of, at some point, having to brave the crowd, certainly did nothing to ease your anxieties.
In the very forefront of your mind were the plans that you'd made with Jungkook for today. You'd promised to spend today, what was likely one of the last free days he'd have before leaving for tour, with him. But every time a particularly loud bellow could be heard from outside, your resolve would crack just a bit further.
Any thought you'd had of making breakfast quickly vanished at the sight of what was waiting below. Even though you knew you probably should eat something before heading out for the day, the idea of trying to force anything down around that ever-growing lump was not appealing.
Things didn't get better as the morning progressed, though. The sounds of the crowd below began to grate on your nerves, getting stuck in your head. You couldn't keep your hands still for a moment; they had to be preoccupied or else they'd shake. And when you could hear the blood rushing in your ears, you knew that was it.
You looked down at your phone where a new message sat unread.
can't wait to see u x
And in that moment, the roar of the crowd below and the roaring of your blood in your ears all became too much and you dialed his phone number.
"Y/N," Jungkook's sweet voice came over the line after only two rings. "that was quick. Are you here?"
"No, I-"
Your voice is froggy, shaky. You can barely speak around the lump in your throat, barely breathe for that matter.
"I can't," you whisper, letting tears fall as you fall on shaky legs. The world feels like it's closing in. Those voices from below seem like they're getting closer by the minute, even though logically you know, being ten stories up, there's nothing they can do from their vantage point. "I can't leave."
There's a moment's pause. You can hear a breath, then movement on the other end of the line. "Do you want to tell me what's going on, Aegiya?"
Jungkook knew. Sometimes things got to be too much. Sometimes you could manage, but other times it was really bad. And this was one of those times. There was often a level of awareness you could maintain whilst in the middle of a panic episode. You could usually convince yourself that you were safe, that the walls weren't really closing in...that you just needed to breathe. But then there were other times, the really bad times, when you just weren't strong enough to keep yourself from succumbing to the dread that threatened to close in around you. You could feel yourself slipping.
"I can't breathe. I-"
"Are you safe? Where are you?"
"I'm home. There are...a lot of people."
The silence was deafening. Jungkook only got this quiet when he was upset; that much you knew. "Outside? Still?"
"Yes."
You sniffled softly, wiping your nose on the back of your sleeve as you curled up with your back against the kitchen island. Even with everything closing in, the cool presence of the granite against your back was a comfort.
"I'm coming to you," he said, voice resolute. And surely enough, you could just hear the door click shut behind him and then heavy footsteps on metal stairs. "Be there in half an hour."
"No, Jungkook; you don't have to-"
"Half an hour." he reiterated, and you could hear the car door slam in the background. "Watch the clock. You remember how to do your breathing?"
You take a moment to try to breathe the way you had been taught - slow and steady. But every time the ringing in your ears began to subside, the crowd outside would take its place. And the cycle would continue. "I can't."
There was a huff from the other end of the line. "Do your best. I'm on my way to you, yeah? And you've got a guard standing at your door right now, so nobody is getting in. You're safe. You know that."
"Uh huh."
"Say it for me."
"I'm...safe."
"Good girl," Jungkook continued, his tone warm, though you could tell it was strained. "I have to hang up now, but I'm going to be there soon. Go to the couch. Get yourself comfortable. I am coming right over."
As you continued trying your best to breathe the way you'd been taught by your counselor months prior, things only began to descend further. The pressing walls were now right up against you; the pressure rising in your chest was sending alarm signals in your mind. You let your eyes fall closed and after a while the darkness did seem to help a bit. You could feel your fingers, wiggle them, pay closer attention to your breathing. But the chanting mob outside was still there and very present.
You had just managed to calm yourself to the point where you thought you may have been able to get up and change out of your pajamas, when the sounds of the front door slamming closed caused you to very nearly jump out of her skin.
"Y/N, it's just me," Jungkook said, hands raised apologetically as your breath caught in your throat and began to speed up once more. "Didn't mean to scare you."
Even though the symptoms of your panic episode didn't subside completely, the relief you felt at the sight of Jungkook nearly had you in tears. "Hi," you whispered, reaching out for him weakly. Your bottom lip began to tremble as he knelt down in front of the couch.
"Hi," he murmured, brushing back your hair and laying a kiss on your forehead. "Bad morning?"
You let out a weak laugh. "You could say that," you conceded, "I'm sorry; I didn't mean for you to have to come all the way over here. I-"
Jungkook only shook his head, "You shouldn't apologize. None of this was supposed to happen." For just a moment, you could see a flash of frustration in his eyes, but he masked it quickly, letting his hand fall free of your hair and pushing himself to his feet. "Where's your weighted blanket?"
"Closet."
You listened idly as he shuffled around your apartment. You could make out the bedroom door closing from down the hall, shuffling footsteps, something happening in the kitchen. And then he was back, hot drink and blanket in hand. Having something to focus on that wasn't the photo-crazed mob down below was doing wonders for your nerves already.
"Hold this," he said, handing you the steaming hot cup before laying the heavy heated blanket over your legs. "How's that?"
"Better," you said with a relieved sighed, wiping the last stray tears from your cheeks. "Thank you."
"I'm sorry," he said, letting his chin come to rest on the couch cushion as he peered up at you, "I called to have two more security sent over. They'll run off all of the people outside. You shouldn't feel unsafe in your own home, Y/N. I never wanted that to happen."
You nodded, letting the fingers of one hand thread through the hair at the nape of his neck. The familiarity was a comfort. "It isn't your fault. I think I always knew that something like this would happen once we made the relationship public; I just didn't expect it to happen so fast. It was frightening."
"I know it was," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. "I can stay here for a couple of days until things calm down, if it would make you feel better."
"No, you have things you need to do. Your tour-"
"I could take a later flight and meet everyone at the first tour stop. If you need me, you need me. I'll be here."
The earnestness in his eyes, the little hopeful quirk at the corners of his lips...god, was it endearing.
"You're too good, you know that?" you murmured, leaning down to catch his lips, feeling much better than you had been already.
Jungkook basked in the praise for only a moment before heaving himself to his feet again and reaching down to tuck the weighted blanket tighter around your waist. "Have you eaten?"
"No, not yet," you admitted, "I was about to start something, but then..." You shook your head. "Just didn't get the chance."
"That's alright. You hang tight. I'll make you something," he said, shuffling his way back to the kitchen.
"I can help-"
"You heard me, Naekkeo," Jungkook said, with the name that made you melt and the fake-stern eyes that could cause you a fit of giggles in an instant. "I'm cooking for you. Your job is to relax."
And, really, who were you to argue with that?
#bts jungkook#jungkook x reader#bts fanfic#i have no queue what i'm doing#bts fanfiction#bts imagine
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Tfa request #1: what is the thoughts of bumblebee/jet twins/ blurr/ sari ( when she’s a teen! ) who has a crush on a dorky yet kind hearted person and what is thier reaction of when they kiss s/o, she fainted or got a nosebleed...( this happened to me but I fainted =u=|| )
TFA X Reader Inserts – Blowing a Gasket
A/N – Hey anon, hope you had a good birthday. Here is a gift for you.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
Bumblebee
“YEAH,” Bumblebee cheered, punching the air victoriously. He was the only one who had opted out of the nature walk that Prowl had planned, and without Sari who was with her father for the day, he was left alone with the video game console.
You had dropped by only a little earlier to see everyone and had opted to read your book until they all came back. Normally, you would have played something with Bumblebee, but he seemed to be enjoying the single player game so you had left him to it.
“Nice job,” You said, looking up at the screen and seeing that he had finally gotten the golden relic he was after.
“Nice job?” Bumblebee repeated cockily. “I think you mean that I’m the king of ALL videogames.”
You snickered, “That is so precious. You want to talk to me about being the best player, then come back when you’ve got a platinum relic.”
Bumblebee tutted, “Those are impossible. Nobody can win one.”
“Move over amateur,” You said, taking the controller from Bumblebee and moving the small bandicoot on screen onto a level you knew well.
Starting the time trial, you caused the character to jump, spin, crush boxes, and generally beat the score Bumblebee had set. By the end of the level, you were the proud owner of a platinum relic.
“NO WAY!” Bumblebee goggled at the screen. “HOW DID YOU DO THAT?”
You stretched victoriously, “Years of practice. You know, if you play the second game and jump on the head of the polar bear in warp room two ten times-”
Bumblebee tried to look as if he was hanging onto your every word while internally, he was freaking out. How had he never noticed how cute you were before? It was so obvious. Maybe you had a crush on him too? Wait- A CRUSH! Colour rose to Bumblebee’s face plates.
‘Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. What if (s)he doesn’t feel the same? I need to know, right now. Why is (s)he still talking about the game? Can’t (s)he see what’s going on here?’
Unable to be patient and wait for an opportune moment wherein Bumblebee might learn if you had feelings for him, he dove at you, pressing his lips against yours, making you let out a muffled yelp.
Pulling away, Bumblebee stared at you, waiting for you to say something. Blood rushed to your face, turning it beet-red. You squeaked as blood started trickling from your nose.
“Primus!” Bumblebee screeched, jumping back.
“It’s okay,” You tried to explain, cupping your nose to catch the blood.
“HOW IS THIS OKAY? YOU’VE BLOWN A GASKET!”
Bumblebee practically drove off to get Ratchet, forgetting his comm-link in his panic. You meanwhile, were left to mop up your bloody nose and search for an explanation by the time Bumblebee came back; all in all, it wasn’t the smoothest first kiss.
The Jet Twins
Jetfire and Jetstorm were listening intently as you talked about the movies you were going to show them back at the base. You had a feeling they would like your old favourites as much as you did. The twins both loved that you took the time to teach them about Earth media and its origins. You were like a walking dictionary of what was cool and what wasn’t, yet if they liked a character or plot that you didn’t, you welcomed the new opinion.
The three of you came to a busy crossing where you had to wait for the traffic lights to change. As you chattered away, the twins gave a small nod to each other, indicating that it was time for something they had been planning since Megatron’s defeat.
Bending down to your height, they simultaneously kissed your cheeks. Afterwards, your head swivelled from Jetfire to Jetstorm, who were both grinning triumphantly.
“I- I- Uh-” You opened your mouth to say something more, but nothing came out. Instead, in a rush of nerves, you crumpled to the floor in a faint.
Jetstorm picked you up, watching you curiously, “Brother, I think she may have-”
“-overheated, yes it seems to being that way,” Jetfire finished his brother’s statement.
“Do you think her cooling fans are to be working?”
“I am thinking that human fans may be slower than ours, brother.”
“Let us be carrying her home then.
“Yes, lets.”
With that, the twins took turns to carry you home, each eager to hear what you thought of their kiss once your heating systems returned to optimal condition.
Blurr zipped back and forth in front of your house, waiting for you to come home. He had repeatedly run this one stretch of path for four hours; he’d been at it so long that the path was a mess of tire marks and scraped concrete. Far too anxious to stop for even one second, Blurr remained a prisoner of his thoughts, running to keep a hold of his sanity.
During the war, Blurr was only consumed with thoughts about the Decepticons. Now that those dark times were behind him, Blurr had time to think about other things… mainly you. He’d always known that he had liked you as a friend. You were one of the few people that could keep up with his fast mind and faster mouth after all. However, he had only realised that very day that he liked you.
Blurr hated the anxiety of wondering what you would think of him romantically. It made him erratic, like there was a swarm of scraplets living in his brain, threatening to tear him open from the inside out. There was really only one solution and that was to tell you how he felt; whether you accepted or rejected his affections, Blurr would at least have an answer and that would be enough.
Finally, Blurr saw you coming around the corner of your street. He rushed forward to you and started jabbering.
“(Y/N),IhaveromanticfeelingsforyouandIthinkyoumayreturnthemifyoujustgivemeachance.Itdoesn’tmatterthatwe’refromtwodifferentspeciesifwedon’tletitmatter,therehavebeenweirdercouplesinthepast.Whati’mtryingtosayiswillyougooutwithme?”
You stared blankly at Blurr. Usually, you were able to keep pace with his fast talking but there was no way to understand the fast-paced speech he had just given you.
“Excuse me, what?” You asked, dumbfounded.
Panicked by the prospect of repeating himself over such a delicate manner, Blurr pressed his lips quickly against yours, pulling away just as fast to stare at you.
Only a few seconds later, blood started dripping down your nose. Blurr was sure he had hurt you, and cursed himself for his behaviour, starting a rant about human fragility, though you only caught snippets.
“BLURR!” You shouted exasperatedly, surprised that the usually confident bot was so nervous now. “I’m fine, it’s just a little nosebleed. I- I like you too.”
Blurr, somewhat exhausted from the override of emotions flopped onto the floor. After cleaning your nose up, you laid down next to him and the two of you relished a few minutes of calm, each momentarily lost for words.
Sari
You and Sari walked through the park on the way to meet the Autobots for a game of improvised baseball. As you talked, you noticed how subdued Sari was. She hadn’t been herself all day; clearly something was on her mind.
“A penny for your thoughts?” You asked, drawing her attention back to you.
Sari sighed, then forced a smile, “It’s nothing (Y/N), don’t worry about it. I guess I’m just distracted.”
“C’mon Sari, something’s bugging you. You may as well talk about it. I won’t judge, whatever it is.”
“I know you won’t. It’s just… I was thinking about by dad.” That first sentence seemed to unlock a flood-gate as Sari began spilling her guts, “I just worry that one day Megatron might want him back. What if he decides to take him again? My dad is totally defenceless, and he could end up building something way worse than a space-bridge. I get that it’s not likely, but I still worry, y’know?”
“Hey,” You said, grabbing Sari’s hand reassuringly. “It’s all gonna be okay. No more bad stuff is gonna happen to you, but if it did, then you’ll have the Autobots to help out, and me as well, even if I can’t punch Megadork through a wall.”
Sari giggled, and smiled at you. You always knew what to say. She only wished she had a way to show you how much you meant to her. Blushing at the idea that just crossed her mind, Sari kissed you before she could lose her nerve.
As soon as her lips left yours, you let out a nervous croak, fainting soon after. Sari stood over you for a minute.
“Hmm.” She prodded you a few times in a small attempt at waking you up. “That didn’t go exactly how I planned.”
She called the Autobots to let them know that she would be late to the baseball game due to an ‘unexpected delay,’ and then she laid down on the grass next to you, awaiting the moment you would regain consciousness.
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#tfa#transformers#transformers animated#maccadam#sari#jettwins#jetfire#jetstorm#bumblebee#blurr#sari x reader#jettwins x reader#jetfire x reader#jetstorm x reader#bumblebee x reader#blurr x reader#reader#reader insert#fanfiction#fanfic#blowing a gasket#Anonymous
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if ur ok with it can u break down the tarlos huggggg in the lst ep after tk tells evy1 abt his addiction? bc that gd huggggggg i wanna no every thing u think abt it i live for ur love for tarlos theyre just so so cuteeeee
IF I’M OKAY WITH IT?! Anon, I feel like I have been waiting my entire life for this ask. I could literally talk about this hug for the rest of my existence. I would talk about this hug every second of every day if I could and never get tired or bored. This hug has owned my entire heart from the moment that it happened and I can never get enough of it. Brace yourself for this essay, and remember that you asked for it...
Okay, so before I get to the actual hug, I want to talk for a minute about why I love it so much and also how fantastic the scene is that comes before it. I’ll try to keep both of those brief (LOL). If you want to skip to the hug breakdown, I’ll give the sections titles.
Why I Love This Hug
So, why do I love this hug so much? Honestly, because I never in a million years thought we’d get something like it, and it was a big turning point for me.
I have not been quiet about how disappointing I think season 1 was. Too much Owen being Owen, too much Iris plot (which never interested me for even a single moment, unfortunately), not enough of the other characters - specifically the characters of color - and definitely not enough Tarlos.
Following episode 3, the show established a really frustrating pattern with Tarlos: they either never interacted with one another, or there was a moment of them at the end of an episode where they were in the same place physically but never spoke directly to one another. Frustration doesn’t even begin to describe the Tarlos talking drought between episodes 3 and 10 - and honestly? It’s bad writing. To focus on a ship for 3 episodes, giving them a lot of different nuances and conflict, and then do absolutely nothing with it? Stupid. So, going into the finale, my expectations were low. At that point, I was literally tuning in just to catch a glimpse of Carlos, with the expectation that that was all I would get. I really didn’t think I was going to watch the show after season 1.
When the finale started with a Tarlos scene, I was honestly very surprised. But, then, of course, it was a “break up” scene, and I was like... well. So much for that. See, I fully expected, based on the trend throughout the later half of the season, that that would be the only Tarlos scene we would get, and that that is how they would end season 1.
But when that camera cut to Carlos Reyes walking through the station door looking like a modern-day motherf*cking Prince Charming? I cried. I’m not ashamed to admit that. And then WHEN WE GOT THE HUG?! I can honestly still feel my heart pounding in my chest.
The finale didn’t fix everything for me; they still barely talk in their final two scenes. It’s not all perfect. But this hug, this small moment? THAT. IS. PERFECTION. (And I’m gonna go on and on about why in just a minute!)
Framing the Hug
I just want to take another moment here to chat about the entire fire station scene with TK and the team/Carlos because there’s a lot that informs why this hug is so freaking incredible. It has everything to do with the directing choices that were made - and boy were they good ones!
We all probably remember how the scene starts: extreme close-ups on TK as he sits waiting for the crew to come back. He’s anxious and possibly having a mild panic attack, and the camera is used to create that moment. Certain shots are out of focus, the shots that are focused are zoomed in to his mouth/hands/eyes, the sound is distorted, his breathing is isolated. It’s all super effective.
So the observations that I make about this brief moment are: TK is stationary, the camera is basically attacking him. And TK is alone. Pretend for a moment that the camera is a character. The camera won’t leave him alone. No one is there to help him. His anxiety grows.
(Even when the team joins him, the camera stays pretty close to him, except for one moment where it backs off but then approaches again. It continues to invade his personal space and his personal moments with his friends and his dad.)
Now, compare that to how the scene ends: TK walks away from the camera, the camera doesn’t follow him. It gives him space. His interaction with Carlos happens in the distance. If the camera is a character, TK defeated that character. He leaves it there, it no longer threatens him. I just really like that visual storytelling; that through the 4 minute scene, TK not only faces his demons, speaks his truth, and conquers his anxiety but he beats the camera and goes off to hug Carlos untethered. (He even bounces towards him, but we’ll get to that in a minute.) That doesn’t really have anything to do with the hug specifically, but I thought it was interesting anyway.
The other comparison that I want to make is a simple one, but it’s another reason why I love the hug: TK initiates it. He doesn’t initiate the group hug with his team (he actually almost says “we don’t have to do that” when Mateo moves towards him), though he obviously enjoys it. Owen initiates their hug, flinging himself at his son, and TK obviously appreciates it.
But the Carlos hug? TK approaches him, TK raises his arm to wrap around Carlos’s neck.
Okay, now to finally answer the original ask...
LET’S HUG IT OUT: THE BREAKDOWN THAT WAS ASKED FOR
youtube
First, can I just say from his first appearance to the end of this scene, Carlos is there for 20 seconds total and I am about to write a whole-ass essay about those 20 seconds?! I’m literal trash.
Okay, so Carlos appears looking like a fucking snack. He’s changed since the bus accident, looking like someone’s hot date, and I think we know whose... Owen is basically like “well this is unexpected” and honestly, same sir. TK is adorable and noncommittal, but clearly not surprised to see Carlos there. We’ve missed a moment between them since TK was sent to the hospital and Carlos called him impressive, that’s for sure.
So when TK starts to walk towards him, the camera refocuses on Carlos and we see this adorable freaking look on his face that clearly says “how did it go?” or “all went well?” or something to that effect. I think Carlos knew what TK was doing at the station and he knew that it was a big deal for him, and I love that even before they are next to each other, he’s checking in to see how it went. He’s invested in TK’s well-being - as always - and he’s there to support him, both physically and emotionally. I COULD SCREAM.
In response to Carlos’s silent questioning, TK throws his head back and sighs. Like I said before, he seems to bounce towards Carlos, his body is pretty loose - his arms are swinging back and forth. This is a guy who just took a load off, and he’s relieved about having done so. The smile that Carlos gives him in answer says that he’s relieved too - that it went so well, that TK seems lighter. He might even be relieved that TK is being so much more open with him, clearly showing him his emotions. Their body language for this entire moment is very open, neither of them seem closed off. It truly does feel like, for the first time, they are meeting each other on equal footing, with all of their cards on the table before them. It’s such a different moment for them, certainly different than their body language during the boba date earlier in the episode.
I would be an absolute idiot if I did not pause and remark here how INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT IT IS that TK is the one that approaches Carlos. I’m not the first person to notice and say this, but Carlos “I hate being the one doing the chasing” Reyes stops just inside the door. He lets TK walk towards him. It’s such an interesting, nonverbal conversation between them. In this action, Carlos is saying “I’m here, but I’m still not going to force anything. You said you wanted space, so I’m giving it to you.” Sure, he comes to the station - but I would pay good money to bet that TK invited him there following some kind of conversation about what he was doing there - but he stays at the door. He’s cautious, but open. He wants something more with TK, but he’s not going to throw himself into it just to get hurt again. So, he waits. AND TK COMES TO HIM. TK leaves his own space and enters his. TK takes the final step. TK closes the gap. TK makes the big move, and they’re finally both right in front of each other, on the same wavelength. The find that solid ground from which they’ll build their relationship together. ISN’T IT JUST BEAUTIFUL?!
Seriously, kudos to Bradley Buecker for directing this episode with multiple levels of storytelling at play. It’s really great stuff.
OKAY, there’s a little Owen and Michelle moment, but then the camera finds Tarlos again.
TK is standing in front of Carlos, they’re completely fixated on one another, their body language is just so fucking casual and comfortable I cannot stand it. See, the other hugs were all pretty intense: the team piles on top of TK, burying him, and Owen practically throws himself at TK, it’s a fairly hard hug for a man with an injured shoulder. But this hug? NOPE.
It’s so soft. It’s so gentle. TK raises his arm like he just can’t not wrap it around Carlos’s neck, like it’s the only way to be as close as possible to him and being as close as possible to him is all he wants in that moment.
What I really love about this hug is that it feels like two people who hug not because the moment is demanding it, not because they’re reuniting after a long time apart, not because they’re in a heightened state of emotion.
These two hug like it’s just what they do, what they always want to be doing, like they don’t know how not to do it. The whole thing reads like “Hi, I’m TK and my arms belong around Carlos” and “Hi, I’m Carlos, and my arms belong around TK, what else would I be doing with them?” (It’s also the vibe I get from the club scene where they wrap their arms around each other.)
IT’S INTIMACY, Y’ALL.
Look, to be a Tarlos fan, I think you have to be willing to look at the relationship on two different levels, right? One is what they verbalize to each other, which is admittedly very little (season 2, come through). The other is the story that they tell through their body language. These two have seemingly always been on the same page physically. It just comes naturally to them, from the minute they first dance to their obviously very pleasing sex scene to the way they flirt in the bar to the club to Carlos at TK’s bedside.
Their chemistry is made clear through how they physically relate to each other, and never is that more clear than in this hug that LITERALLY LASTS 2 SECONDS BUT CONTAINS MULTITUDES.
Okay, back to it... so TK strolls towards Carlos, Carlos waits for him - they symbolism is making me scream - TK raises his arm, it’s all super casual...
And then he just kind of literally falls into Carlos’s body, and Carlos basically just catches him. HOW BEAUTIFUL IS THAT.
They don’t even speak but because they’ve had a nonverbal conversation with just those looks that I talked about, there’s just this understanding that TK needs to just collapse a little bit and he never for one second doubts that Carlos will hold him up. THAT’S JUST WHAT THEY DO.
OKAY OKAY OKAY now we’re going to break this down from head to toe.
Like, the way that their heads just rest against each other, TK pressing close - I can almost imagine that he breathes in the scent of Carlos’s shampoo, his nose is pressed right there in his curls. AND JUST IMAGINE HIS SMILE, I BET IT’S BLINDING.
I love that their heads kind of curve around each other kind of, perfectly Yin and Yang - like, from above they would totally look like that symbol.
MY FAVORITE PART OF THE ENTIRE THING: CARLOS FREAKING REYES NUZZLING INTO TYLER KENNEDY STRAND’S NECK, LIKE HE JUST SHOVES HIS FACE RIGHT IN THERE
THE NECK KISS MADE ME SCREAM SO FUCKING LOUD THE FIRST TIME I SAW IT I COULD NOT HANDLE IT
First, it’s our first kiss since episode 2.
Second, THE INTIMACY OF PRESSING A KISS TO SOMEONE’S NECK - LIKE THAT IS SUCH A SOFT PART OF YOUR BODY, THERE ARE TENDONS THERE, YOU CAN FEEL SOMEONE’S PULSE THERE - LIKE OH MY GOD
Nothing screams “I want to know every part of this man on a deep, committed level” than a fucking neck kiss, and Carlos Reyes just... he fucking does it.
Okay but he really does bury his whole face in there like he wants to keep it there forever, I have truly never seen something so soft in my entire life.
I’m so in love with them I could puke.
But like, that’s why this moment means so much to me, because I really do think that it’s a solidifying moment for both of them.
For TK, it’s a “It’s okay if I stumble or fall because this man will catch me or help me up” thing
For Carlos, it’s “he wants me, he wants this, he’s taking literal steps towards this thing between us, and he encourages me to sink into him, he wants me to do that, he really wants this”
Like, fuck.
Moving down... we gotta appreciate Carlos being mindful of TK’s shoulder, unlike literally everyone else who has hugged him. Like, he doesn’t even go anywhere near those stitches because there’s no fucking way he’s going to watch TK bleed out for the third time, nope.
And the way that Carlos just slides his arms around TK’s waist, pressing his palms into his lower back?!
I think there’s a whole like, thing, where when a person’s hands are flat and open they’re like, open and vulnerable. So there’s just something about the way that Carlos presses both of his open palms against TK’s back that feels so open and vulnerable and honest to me.
Also, the way that he literally covers as much of TK’s back with his hands as possible? He doesn’t place his hands on top of one another, he stacks them along TK’s spine - he completely covers the entirety of his lower back. That’s a really vulnerable part of the human body, and Carlos instinctively protects it. AND TK LET’S HIM.
Okay, finally, down to their feet: TK really does collapse against Carlos, throwing himself on top of him and trusting that Carlos will keep him upright. All of his weight shifts to that forward momentum, he even goes up on the toes of his right foot. Carlos plants his feet, and as TK sways into him, he wraps him in his arms and gently centers them so that they don’t tip over to the ground.
He literally re-balances them. The two of them together find a balance with one another during this TWO-SECOND HUG. They shift, they steady themselves, they sink into one another.
It’s literally symbolic of them both being completely, 100%, without question, ready for the next phase of their relationship together.
They keep each other standing, and that’s fucking true love, y’all.
I honestly cannot wait for season 2. This hug and the final scene on the hood of Carlos’s car - with TK again making the move to embrace their relationship by physically reaching into Carlos’s space for his hand and dragging it into his own space, firmly opening the door to his heart to let him inside, while also settling Carlos’s hand between his own to let him know that he’s willing to protect him and his heart too - makes me believe that we are in for some truly wonderful romance with these boys.
My heart will not stop screaming about it.
#anonymous#asks#tarlos#tk strand#carlos reyes#911 lone star#that finale hug is the very definition of love#and I have a lot of feelings about it#thank you so much for sending this ask#I loved getting to rewatch this 3-second hug about a billion times to overanalyze it#best night I've had in a long time#holy shit this is almost 3K... for a 3-second hug... I’m literally trash#brian breakdowns#brian being tarlos trash
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Heheh idk if my request sent 🥺👉👈 possibly a Colby angsty fic where y/n is having a really bad day and comes home to Colby crying and he comforts her? Only if you want tho, ily Bb 🥺❤️
u sent this so long ago but here i am, trying my best to finish ONE THING while i’m working on like FIVE THINGS. anyways i love u 🥺
—
Every hour of the day seemed to weigh heavier on your shoulders by the time you were getting out of work. You’d been late that morning because your alarm clock had somehow managed to get unplugged, resulting in your boss’s impatient voice being the first thing you heard when you woke up. After getting ready in a panic, there was, of course, traffic on the way there, making your anxiety spike while there was nothing you could do about it.
When you’d walked into your job, you had sighed, thinking the worst of the day was over and now all you had to do was get through the day until you could go home. But, no. That’s not how things went.
Your boss chewed your ear off some more about being irresponsible and how there was no excuse for being as late as you were, despite having very valid, though unfortunate, reasons for why you’d been late. There wasn’t anything you could do but take it; as is the way with an abuse of power.
When you finally clocked in to work, you were completely swamped all day. You were grateful when your lunch break rolled around, especially since you hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, but once again, your boss told you off. He said you didn’t get to have a lunch break that day since you were late, and that the time you’d lost during the morning could be made up during lunch.
You went back to your desk, fuming and extra irritable from being hungry. You typed away angrily, which you regretted as soon as your spacebar suddenly stopped working. Anger quickly bled into another bout of panic as you tried desperately to fix it yourself without having to tell your boss, but why would that have happened?
Facing your boss once again, you were met with more anger and unnecessary insults on your overall work performance. With each word that flew from his mouth, he chipped away at your ability to remain calm and collected, leaving you nearly at your breaking point when he sent you to request a new keyboard. You sent in the request and tried to take care of any tasks that didn’t require a keyboard.
Finally, you made it to the end of your day, feeling like a husk of the human you once were. You texted Colby that you were on your way home and that you’d be there soon. You just wanted to stop somewhere to pick up food and get home so you could just unwind for a bit. As you waited in the drive-thru line, you massaged your temples until you pulled up to the speaker.
You ordered your favorite fast-food treat, only to be told that, unfortunately, they were all out of one of the essential ingredients they needed to make your order. You couldn’t even respond, you felt so defeated. You drove away and tried to fight the heavy, suffocating lump in your throat as you made your way home. You focused completely on not letting your tears spill over; you did not want to cry. Not while you were driving, and honestly, not at all. You just wanted to be able to go home and go directly into your bed, under the covers, and sleep until the next morning.
You parked in your usual spot and kept your breathing steady as you walked through the front door of your home. Breathe in and breathe out, you coached yourself, keeping your face neutral as you removed your flats that had been digging a blister into your heel all day. You slowly made your way towards your bedroom, passing the living room as you did.
From inside, on the couch, came the cheerful greeting of your boyfriend. “Hey, babe,” he called, standing up to meet you in the hall.
You were more focused than ever on not crying. You turned and forced a tiny smile on your face, not wanting to unload all of your burdens onto him. He had such a busy life, and you knew in your heart that he had to deal with a lot more than you did on a day-to-day basis, so you didn’t want to add any more stress to his life than he already had.
Once he reached you, he put his hands on your shoulders and leaned in to give you a quick peck on the cheek. You were holding it together pretty well... until he asked, “How was your day?” with a sincere smile.
You could physically feel the fascade you were hiding behind break. Just as instantaneously as it cracked in half, you went from a tiny smile to hiccuping sobs.
Colby’s face dropped with concern, the suddenness of your tears catching him off guard. He pulled you into his arms with a wide-eyed expression on his face, trying to figure out how he could blink and miss the moments between you being seemingly okay to you being inconsolably upset. After a moment of trying to figure it out, he decided it wasn’t really that important to know—what was important was finding out what had made you upset and what he could do to help.
“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” he murmured, his hand rubbing soothing circles across your back. You buried your face in his chest, not wanting to confront how terrible you were feeling despite being at the mercy of your own emotions—you had no choice but to let it out, even if you wanted to choke it all down.
“Why don’t we go to our room?”
You nodded at Colby’s suggestion, keeping your head down to hide the expression on your face. You held his hand and he let you lead him upstairs to your shared room. Walking in after you, Colby closed and locked the door to make sure you had total privacy. Before he could start to comfort you again, you were moving around the room, taking off your business casual clothes, all while you tried to explain through angry sobs as coherently as you could why you were so upset.
You furiously scrubbed the makeup off your face while you detailed the way your boss seemed to have it on his agenda to ruin your life today. You clumsily stepped into your fuzziest pair of pajama pants while you exasperatedly explained how hungry you were and how many times the day kept you from sitting down to eat. You unclipped your bra from under your shirt and threw it haphazardly across the room, landing somewhere near your laundry basket, before launching into an account of how you managed to break your keyboard and how your boss berated you for it. By the time you had finished ridding yourself of evidence that the day had even happened, you had gone through the events of your whole day, all while speaking (and often screaming) through sobs that had been contained for far too long.
Colby sat on his side of the bed, listening patiently as you got ready to relax, his expression a mix of concern and sympathy. Under the surface, he was fuming about how poorly your boss had treated you today—he wasn’t necessarily a great boss to begin with, but he really took it too far this time. However, he would save that anger for another time; you were the one who needed to let off some steam at the moment.
When you had finished recounting your day, you took a deep breath, your breathing coming out unevenly as you got out all of your anger and were left with feelings of sadness and frustration.
“Come here,” he said softly, opening his arms wide and sitting back against the pillows to allow you to cuddle into him comfortably. At his simple command, you hurried over and climbed into the bed next to him, grateful for the haven his embrace provided you.
It was hard to believe a little while ago you thought you’d be able to keep all of your emotions bottled up inside you. You continued to let everything out, not holding back on any sobs or sniffles. Colby, supportive as ever, encouraged you to stay cuddled up to him for as long as you needed. One of his arms hugged you tight against him while the other continued to caress you in a calming manner.
“I know today was really shitty and getting through it was really hard, and I’m really sorry you had to go through all that,” he began, his voice gentle and low. “But I want to remind you that you did get through it—all of it, even things that you had every right to give up on. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that you decided to quit on the spot as soon as your jackass of a boss even breathed near you.” He earned a tiny chuckle from you as you started to calm down. “Seriously, though, you pushed through a lot today. It would’ve been completely reasonable for you to not go into work after waking up that late, but you pushed through. I could totally understand if you told me you snapped at your boss after he chewed you out, but you pushed through. You could’ve done a lot worse than break your spacebar, and if I were in your position, I probably would’ve—but you pushed through that, too. You even kept pushing after you broke it and couldn’t get any more work done at your computer. And the fact that you didn’t set fire to that fast-food place after they couldn’t make you the only thing you wanted? Your self-control is truly admirable!”
You were giggling softly as Colby continued to compliment you on how you managed to make it through everything you had, looking up at him from where your head was laid on his chest. You could see his smile get bigger with every tiny laugh he coaxed out of you, and watching him get happier as you got happier truly made you feel a million times better. And you had to admit, he was definitely right—you had persisted through a lot that day, maybe even more than you should have.
“I’m proud of you. You’re such a strong person, and I love that about you,” he said, his voice a lot softer now. “You make me want to be strong, too.”
Your eyes were welling up again, but not from negative emotions. Instead, you were overwhelmed with gratitude and love for the man next to you. At a loss for words, you simply reached up and pressed your lips against his, letting your lips do the talking for you.
When you pulled away, you whispered, “Thank you.”
“Of course, baby. I’m glad I could help,” he smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead.
As if your stomach could sense you were done letting out your emotions, it growled loudly, making both of you laugh. “I’ll order some food now, okay? We can stay in and watch a movie or something. Whatever you want,” Colby said, pulling out his phone to start placing an order.
“That sounds perfect,” you said, kissing his cheek before laying your head against his chest again.
It was funny, you realized, how you had imagined that Colby must’ve gone through so much worse in his daily life that you felt you definitely should be able to handle as much as you had and probably more. Yet here he was, admitting that you inspire him to be strong enough to get through his day. You nuzzled in closer, feeling extra grateful and extra humbled as that reality hit you, and you felt warmer knowing you kept each other going.
#curlyhairedbrock#asks#concept#blurb#colby brock#colby brock x reader#colby brock concept#colby brock one shot#colby brock imagine#colby brock fluff#colby brock angst#colby brock blurb
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Run (Jasper Jordan x Reader College!Au)
Request: “Hoi I wanna request a story sadly I don’t have Patreon though so u prob won’t make it hehe. It’s a Jasper Jordan x reader fan fic also I would love if it a High school/college Au and the readers parents don’t approve Jasper so she has to sneak out every time she wants to meet him but soon she finds out she’s pregnant so she runs away with him? Also your work is amazing!” ~ @deadqueeen
A/N: I was just about to say, “I’ve never done a college au before, uwu!” but I forgot about that entire self indulgent smut I wrote…big Oof. Anyways, love this idea, I love some good ol’ fashioned angst. Just a warning though, I did end up leaning heavily into the relationship reader has with their parents so just be prepared for some upsetting interactions.
If you like my work, don’t be afraid to interact! Gimme a like, comment, message, send a request my way if you like! And if you’d like to support me further, go ahead and check out my Patreon! I’d love to see you there!
Trigger Warnings: Mild Smut, Parental abuse, petting crime, and Pregnancy.
College was stressful as it is, but as the months passed, things were getting harder and harder to manage. Come your freshman year, a little thing called Covid-19 hit the world, sending it into a whirlwind of stress and unease.You sat in the shower, letting the warm water fall over your aching body as you stared blankly at your knees. After your panic attack you were left void of emotion and thought, sitting there wondering what to do and how to move. The water was a calming reminder that you were still present and very much alive.
Things had changed very quickly and yet it felt like that change took forever to get to you. Covid hit right before the end of your freshman year, forcing you to move back in with your parents until it “passed.” But it wasn’t passing and now you were starting your sophomore year at home.As stressful as it was, you missed school. You missed your friends, your dorm room, even your part-time job. But most of all, your freedom. You missed the carefree way in which you lived in the dorms. You had a taste or real life and you craved more.
You were trapped, for lack of a better word, imprisoned in your childhood home. You spent days without leaving the confines of it’s walls in a failed attempt to keep you safe and focused on school. Your parents weren’t always so strict, but they made it clear that school should be your top priority and anything else was an unwelcome distraction. Things like your boyfriend, were merely a hindrance to your education.You met Jasper your first day in the dorms. He was bright and smiling like an excited puppy, eager and willing to make new friends and new experiences. You quickly became friends, and then a little more. Before you knew it, the two of you were inseparable. He made you feel so wild and free. He nurtured the fun, carefree side of you that you didn’t even know existed. He cared for you in ways no one ever had before. He was so funny and kind and genuine. He gave you the tools to grow, and with his, you bloomed.
When the pandemic hit, it devastated the two of you. Being isolated and kept from one another proved too much to bare. You remember the first night you snuck out with him, terrified of alerting your parents. They hated Jasper, they forbade you from seeing him. Told you he’d do nothing but keep you down and stifle your potential. If only they could see how happy he made you. If only, they cared.Jasper would creep around to your backyard and gently tap at your bedroom window. 12 am, they’d always be asleep, the perfect time to make a quick get away and then 6am, you’d sneak back through your window.
The adrenaline of misbehaving always drove you crazy. Sneaking around in the dark of the night, stealing chased kisses from one another until it was too much to handle. You fell into each other’s arms almost every night, desperate kisses and moans in between the sound of skin slapping against skin. He made your hair curl.You were his first. He was awkward and silly at times but you whipped him into shape real quick. And now, he was a well trained boy toy ready and willing at any moment you desired. He was always so desperate for you, so needy and greedy for your body. But his kisses, no matter how passionate and crazed, were always so loving. He adored you in every way.
These secret rendezvous went on for months, all summer, it was routine, you couldn’t stay away from him. But, maybe you should have. With more classes fast approaching, you began to think about your future. If only you had the money to move out, you and Jasper could finally have a sense of normalcy. You could move in together, start a life together. But the pandemic and school sucked your savings dry and without the conditioned help from your parents, you were penniless. You finally stood on your shaky legs and lifted yourself out of the show. You dried yourself off, shuffled over to your room, dressing yourself, and waiting till the coast was clear. When all was quiet, you texted Jasper and soon he was at your window. Lucky for you, he wasn’t a far drive away. He gently tapped on the glass and leaned down to flash a big goofy grin from behind your curtains. You opened the window and let him in, shushing him as he fell into the room.
“Hey sweetness.” He whispered, loudly. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek as he held you by your hips.“Please be quiet, you’re making me nervous.” You hushed. His smile disappeared slowly as he examined your face. Your red eyes and puffy cheeks gave away your emotions. He was never good at reading a room, but there was little you could hide from him. He made you transparent.
“Have you been crying?” Worry washed over him as he placed his hands to hold your head and slide his thumbs over the soft skin on your cheeks. You tried to avoid his gaze but failed miserably.“Yeah…” You admitted, wiggling out of his grasp so you could sit on the edge of your bed. Your heart started to race, the anxiety and fear wrenching its was through your body. Even the thoughts made you want to cry again.
“Whats wrong? Did something happen with your parents?” You’d been having fights with them for some time now, and he knew it was taking a tole on you. Jasper offered to being you home to his folks, but his relationship with them was on the rocks as it was. Your small group of close friends were your only support. All things considered, the two of you were left on your own. “No…” You muttered, unable to bring yourself to say it out loud. The tears quickly came back up and started falling again. Your emotions, your fears, your pain took over you. You couldn’t get out a single word before your body jerked uncontrollably as you sobbed. It left a slew of incomplete words spewing from your mouth. “I-I….I-I I’m ….. Mmmm …. I’m …..” gasp, sob “Mmmmmha….” and the sobbing continued.
“Hey…Hey…It’s okay.” He cooed softly to you as he rubbed soft, slow circles on your back. It helped, but not much.“N-No…” you shook as you cried, “I’m-m-m-”
“It’s alright, take deep breaths, you don’t have to say anything until you’re ready.” He whispered to you. You clung to him desperately. It took time, but soon you felt good enough to speak again.“Jasper…”
“What sweetness?” He flashed you his kind and loving smile.“I’m pregnant.” You uttered softly. You watched the color drain from his face. His sweet smile faded away to a scowl and the fear rushed back to you. The sobbing started again as you chanted apology after apology, begging for him to stay with you. He didn’t move, he only held you where you were. Finally spoke.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. We tried, we were safe, it’s not your fault. Shhhhh. It’s okay.” Suddenly a bright light interrupted him. Your bedroom door swing open to reveal the large, looming figure of your mother. “What the hell is going on here!” She screamed. You watched in horror as your mother wrenched Jasper from your arms and threw him out into the living room. You followed her, pleading and begging her to stop as she hurled whatever was in reach at him. Shoes, pillows, plates, before your father reached around his collar to throw him out of the house.
The yelling and screaming continued through the night until the sun came up. Your father nailed your bedroom window shut. Your mother locked your door by pushing furniture in front of it to keep you inside. Your phone, your computer, every form of communication was taken from you. Every mistreatment and punishment being underlined by some iteration of, “this is for your own good” or “this is because we love you.”
You felt stuck in an emotional limbo for days on end as they kept you prisoner. You didn’t have the energy to cry or argue, there was nothing you could do or say. You had sit and stay, like a good girl.
One night you were woken by a soft tapping at your bedroom window. You jolted out of bed to see a pair of familiar eyes pear back. Monty stood on the other outside, a face mask and baseball cap hiding his features. He held up a notebook with writing on it and pressed it against the glass.
“Are you okay?” It read. You rushed to find paper and write back.
“I’m fine. Wheres Jasper?”
“Your Dad threatened to shoot him if he saw him again. So he sent me.” He wrote back.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. We’re busting you out of here.”
“How? They’re getting security cameras installed tomorrow.” Monty looked visibly concerned and thought for a moment before responding.
“Then we’ll have to do it tonight. Pack what you can. We’ll be back to get you in an hour.”
“How are you going to get me out? The window is nailed shut, I can’t get out.”
“Don’t worry. Just be prepare to run.” And with that, he left. You packed what you could. A few items of clothing, necessities, and water. You thought about leaving a note. Maybe telling your parents about your pregnancy, they had missed that part of your conversation, thank god. You decided against it, you still didn’t know what to do. Regardless, it was safe to say you could kiss your funding for school goodbye. You’d be on your own from now on. Well, not entirely.
You heard shuffling outside your bedroom window and looked outside to see two dark figures racing past. You watched as Bellamy peered in, face also obscured by a mask, and waved at you. Jasper’s mask covered face popped into view and planted his palm on the window before holding up a notebook.
“Get away from the window, and be prepared to run.” It read. As soon as you nodded in agreement, Jasper disappeared from view. You watched Bellamy swing his arms back with a crow bar in hand. The window shattered with a loud crash, glass flying all over your bedroom. He reached a hand out to you, his grasp firm as you clung to his forearm. You were pulled through to the outside and fell to the ground below.
“Go, go, go, run!” Bellamy whispered, loudly. You looked up at your parent’s house as the sound of dogs barking rang in your ears. Lights flew on from the house as well as neighbor’s lights. You felt so stiff and ridged. The urge to run suppressed by your fear. Jasper reached down and took your hand in his. You looked up at him, his eyes wide with urgency. He tugged at your arm, begging you to get up and run with him.
Suddenly, you felt free. You felt the strength to get up and push forward. Running with him to a car parked outside the house. The three of you bolted, tripping over yourselves as you raced against the clock. As soon as you were in the car, Octavia greeted you with a big toothy grin.
“Drive! Drive!Drive!” Jasper shouted at her. Her smile disappeared as she looked back at Jasper with you before her attention went back to the car. The engined roared as she adjusted the gears and soon you were off. Still panting, you looked back at your childhood home and saw your parents tumble out of the front door to try and chase after the car. Your dad tried to chase after the car, but stopped when he realized it was no use. Their figures soon disappeared.
Octavia cheered triumphantly as you turned back to catch your breath. A great big smile stretched across your face. You’d never felt so free before. You looked over to see Jasper still panting but sporting a bright smile as he looked at you. He reached a hand around the back of your head and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You laughed and basked in the blissful feeling the adrenaline gave you.
Soon the moment passed and you were left holding one another’s hand as Octavia drove you to Bellamy’s apartment. You stayed the night, planned your escape. Apparently Jasper’s parents didn’t know he was leaving either, meaning the two of you were officially on the run. You had to leave town, like, now.
You pooled what money the two of you had, quick to take cash out of your account before your parents could freeze your debit card. Enough to get you out of town and settled in a hotel for a few nights, maybe even a few meals. But you couldn’t afford much without work after that. Lucky for the two of you, a friend from the dorms lived just a town over. You could stay with her a few days while you looked for work.
“What are you going to do?” Bellamy asked with a dark expression as he stared at you.
“What?” You were confused, hadn’t you just laid out your plan?
“Jasper told me you were...you have another problem.” His eyes flashed between the two of you before resting on you again, he was careful to not say anything too pointed.
“Oh...I...I don’t know.” You said under a whisper. Jasper rested a firm hand on your knee.
“How long have you known?” Octavia asked.
“Like a few days. Theres still time to think about it, I just...I just wanna get out right now.” Bellamy nodded his head.
“If you guys need anything, don’t be afraid to call okay?” He handed you a prepaid phone. You thanked them for your help, packed up, and left the next night. You hid under masks and baseball hats as you sat at the bus station. The cool night air brushed against you skin as you admired the bright lights of the street lamps above. Jasper squeezed your hand in his to get your attention. You looked at one another and smiled under your mask.
You’d never tell him this, but during the coarse of your relationship you had always worried about Jasper. Worried that maybe you weren’t as serious as you felt. Maybe you were just a little fun to him, the rush of a forbidden romance being what drove him to you. But now, with him so willing run. So willing to leave his comfortable life just for you. Regardless of the responsibilities that came with it. He chose you, without a second thought, he chose you.
The dark street road was empty and serene. You watched as bats flew down to catch bugs that swarmed the lights above you. Despite your situation, you felt safe and warm there beside him. For the first time, you felt confident that everything is going to be okay.
#jasper jordan#jasper jordan imagine#jasper jordan smut#jasper x reader#jasper jordan x reader#The 100#the 100 au#The 100 college au#the 100 imagine#jasper jordan x pregnant reader#jasper
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Irritated 7
A/N This took me way too long imo 6k words bbs, please enjoy. The next part is in the works! Buckle the fuck up after this chapter yall. Please enjoy xoxo
"Katsuki there is no need to knock they'll be out soon!" Kirishima says practically hanging off of a muscled arm.
"Oi shit hair we are gonna be late if we don't start walking now." The hot head snarls.
"Ah but perfection cannot be rushed." Todoriki says as he patiently waits with deadly hands in his pockets.
As if on cue Mina opens the door with a dramatic flair, eyes only for the ruby haired man. As if on a catwalk she sashays to Kirishima, sporting a glitering knee length amethyst dress that compliments her bubble gum pink skin. Followed by Jhiro in a white and black ankle length dress, Uraraka who wears a floor length muave pink and Momo comes out in a stunning blood red with diamonds dripping from her neck like frozen dew.
Denki, Izuku, Kirishima, and Todoroki smile in unison holding out their hands.
The men quickly become a color coordinated accessory to the band of gorgeously dressed women. Donned in all black suits while the color of their ties match each dress perfectly. Deft scarlet eyes notice the pairings quickly as the couples begin to mingle, fighting the blush on his cheeks as he looks over himself. His suit, vest, and even tie are all black and he can only assume that you will come out paired to him. As if it were some sort of symbol or sign that you were destined to be his counterpart.
Even if it is only for tonight.
Panic begins to set in as the couples flirt for longer than a few moments. Fear that you may have slipped out without their knowledge.
"Oi, Mina where is...?" But he never finishes his question as you walk from the room, asking if they have their key before slamming it shut.
"Wow Y/N, you look..." Izuku starts, compliment stuck in his throat before Katsuki finishes it for him.
"Fucking stunning." He growls lowly, drinking you in. The black dress has a plunging V in both the front and back, stopping just at your solar plexus and mid back. A slit runs up the side to mid thigh so that Katsuki, and every other man, is mesmerised with each step.
And no one can miss the giant garnet so deep in hue it could have been a drop of dried blood resting dutifully on your breast bone secured by a golden chain.
Bakugou grits his teeth as you approach him with your normal items, his hands deep in his pockets to keep them off of you.
"Kaachan. If you don't mind." You beam before he snatches the items stowing them away, sure to let his eyes dart away from you. The other couples exchange looks choosing to start making their way towards the exit and soon the dizzying party. Katsuki offers you his arm with a snarl to which you hesitate. Looking at it as if diffusing a bomb before you grab onto his arm, hand clasped tightly around a strong bicep.
××××××××
The party was not small by any means and staring at it from behind a heavy dark curtain did not ease your anxiety over the matter.
What if your entrance was lame?
Fucking lackluster?
Hell you couldn't even THINK of a fucking song let alone pick one out for this idiotic entrance that was thrust upon you.
Still panic rises in your shaking hands as your scroll through your spotify trying to come up with anything worthy of your 10 to 20 second entrance.
"Izuku, you're up first." The man with the clip board further agitates your state, "I've got your songs ready, except Y/LN's. We need to know very soon."
Izuku walks onto the stage with confidence as the chorus of Champion by Fallout boy rings out.
Just as the beat begins to crescendo again he jumps into the air, leg cocked before he unleashes a kick strong enough that a strong wind blows through the building.
Whistling and whipping people's hair stunning them into silence before they erupt into a deafening cheer.
A pit settles in your stomach as you bite your lip with enough force that a coppery taste threatens to invade your mouth, your saved songs and play lists stare back at you with disinterest in your turmoil.
Strong hands slap onto your shoulders before lips are at your ear.
"Its just a song. It's just an intro. Your fans will love whatever the fuck you pick out or do. I promise. You just gotta fucking believe in yourself for once." Katsuki growls contradictory to what his hands convey. He gives a soft squeeze before his song begins to play. Suddenly a song pops into your head and you whisper to the stage hand before you can talk yourself out of it.
The blonde makes his way to the stage mimicking where his pin is on his hero costume as the hyped song echoes over the slightly drunk crowd that screams the lyrics to the rap song. He would pick this song wouldn't he?
It was literally named after him Bakugo! By Kamil.
The song starts out with the iconic sound before transiting to the verse he picked.
The most tame out of all of them and probably the one he was forced to settle with.
"Grenadier bracers on my wrist, I'm about to pull the pin Come at me with all your might or I'ma melt off all your skin Howitzer impact if I'm pissed, Bitch I told you I'ma win Bitch, get back before I blast, I said I'll do it again wit' a grin
Like I'm Bakugo, turn they soul to fuckin smoke Bitch I'm boutta pop, bitch you know I'm boutta blow up Only need these hands I don't need no fuckin pole Once I get a grip, I might blast yo fuckin dome up"
He wears a manic grin as he let's off several large explosions, destroying the sleeves to his suit, leaving his toned arms exposed and smoking.
The crowd screams louder than Deku as women claw at one another at a chance to touch their daddy hero.
Your cue comes as a hush falls over the crowd instantly influences by the chaotic somber chords.
Chords that slowly begin to build into something more as you waltz onto the stage. Each step calculated, your gaze cold as you look upon the crowd that stares up with wide eyes. Holding their breath as they wait to see what it is you will do.
You guess you've always been the wild card huh?
Slowly you choose chairs, tables and even some candles to float, turning agonizingly slow in the air as the song's lyrics become darker. As if entering the room of a witch who's mind was slowly descending into madness.
"Hush." You say with the song as the beat drops killing all of the lights in the room as you levitate, illuminated by the glow of your power as your eyes appear like two moons on an ink black sky.
Phones that were recording levitate with you as you hold your arms out, toes pointed beautifully even in heels.
The song's beat comes back around to another verse before all of the lights become blindingly bright, things returned to normal, phones returned to hands all in the blink of an eye. You take that step you never took with the same cold look.
As the crowd stares on wondering if it were all just a dream before a smile cracks on your face confirming that it was indeed real.
The crowd is deafening as they scream, chanting your name and flooding social media with your display of power.
Izuku gives you a shocked face before grinning from ear to ear with a thumbs up as Bakugou stares at you indifferently. He realizes just how much you've been holding back.
A smile plays on his lips as the crowd dies down, the DJ choosing to start off the party by playing the full song you had chosen. Cradles by Sub Urban as the women of 1A ambush you for a blurred night.
Two sets of eyes follow you throughout the night.
It isn't long before you are totally shit faced and sweaty from a night of dancing. Inhibitions and worries long since drowned out by the soothing affects of booze.
Magic is what you called liquor as you levitated all of your squad's drinks above your heads as the group swayed to the music.
"Tenjia! Can we please dance with you?" A lovely woman competes with the music and wins out. You look to the fan before looking towards your new found friends. They encourage you to mingle with your fans, insuring you they wouldn't be far.
But you go far as you find yourself deeper on the dance floor, drunkenly dancing with another group of women. Hours pass by like seconds, the dance floor slowly beginning to thin but not by much.
Someone tugs harshly on the crook of your arm causing you to turn on your heel hand raised in rage fueled panic.
When your eyes meet scarlet you relax as he pulls you to the fringes of the crowd until the two of you break free of the damp bodies only to be met with a slumped Izuku.
Burning eyes cut to you before a growl is exhaled from the hot head.
"Dumbass Deku drank way too much and puked all over the fucking bathroom. We gotta go." Alcohol clings to his breath as he pulls you closer to the sleeping jade haired man. You dig your heels in deeper than any mule causing Bakugou to turn towards you with a glare.
"What about U-san can't she take Deku to her room?"
"No. She can't." He bites out, "They all left to take Toru back to the room who also got too fucked up."
He pulls again and still you do not move earning you the nastiest glare he can muster. Which isn't much considering how diluted it is by both your stunning looks and the influence of deadly amounts of booze.
"I dont wanna leave I'm having fun!" You pout, Bakugou's grip tightens before he gnashes his teeth.
"I'm not leaving you here alone." A threat and a promise all rolled in one as he holds your gaze for several heartbeats. You feel the weight of his stare, especially so once his eyes begin to wander along your body. He yanks you to him, pressing you into his toned chest.
"Stop being a fucking brat and help me." He snarls in your ear as your knees begin to turn to jelly. You push him away with an exaggerated huff crossing your arms, watching with scrutinizing eyes as he hooks an arm under Deku. Scarlet narrow on you, hinting that you should slip under the other limp arm. Instead you use your quirk to support the drunkard.
The cool summer air does nothing to sober the odd trio. If anything it furthers your irritation of having to leave the party, your heels do not help in the matter as they begin to pinch your feet hinting they will cause blisters.
You stop dead in the street audibly whining as you fuss over your shoes.
"I dont know why you had to drag us out Kaachan. I was finally making fucking friends and I was finally having a good time again since..." Nausea settles in your stomach, Bakugou stops to look over his broad shoulder. Just as he is about to snarl out a question you inturpt by stomping towards him.
"Take my heeeeellllss!!!" You whine, brandishing them obnoxiously. Izuku groans as Bakugou snarls.
"Put them in my fucking pockets damn. Just watch out for glass and stop whining!!!" He bites, slowly losing his buzz as his normal sour mood settles onto his shoulders. Competing with the weight of a complicated relationship donning jade green hair.
You shove them as best you can into his pockets before leaning away, humming the song for your intro.
Bakugou cannot help the smirk that forms on his lips as he thinks of you floating as if it were nothing.
"I told you you'd fucking kill it." He says as the two of you finally drag Deku to the front doors of the hotel.
"Kill what?" You prompt, mind lost to the ease of alcohol. A heavy scarlet gaze falls onto you, when he sees your confused face he rolls his eyes.
"Dumbass, you were so worked up over it !" He half shouts, suddenly a blush blooms on your cheeks as you realize what he meant.
"Oh." Your cheeks flush further as he walks through the automatic doors, you stand outside.
Your drunken mind roaming before settling on the tile floors. Spiraling over the thought of walking bare foot on tile or carpet that isn't in your home. Defying logic as you've just walked the streets with no problem.
But the mind does as it pleases under as it does under any influence.
Katsuki re adjusts Deku's weight as it takes him a moment to realize you're not holding him up as well as you had been before.
"Oi!" He hisses turning towards you only to stare at you through glass doors. His heart pounds, he does not like you outside of his reach so late at night while do heavily intoxicated. He practically drags the dead weight he is carrying as he rushes outside for you.
His worry comes off as severe irritation and agitation as he glares down at you.
"Why are you still outside?" He snarls and you fight to keep yourself from shrinking back.
"I don't want my feet to get dirty. Can...can you carry me?" You keep your headed bowed, waiting for his inevitable explosion. When he barely makes a pop or a suck of his teeth you look up at him through long lashes.
His heart catches in his throat lodging the no that was steadily rising up his windpipe. Your eyes don't look as harsh as they normally do, they seem wider, more innocent. Doe like in nature, contradicting the predator that your dress suggests. He grinds his teeth.
"How do you propose I carry you?" He gestures to Deku whose is now floating on his own.
"I ride your back silly!" You shout with glee turning him around and jumping onto his sculpted back before he can say no. You giggle in his ear, taking in the scent of caramel with delight as he growls profanities while holding onto your thick and bare legs.
"I'm not a fucking pack mule." He murmurs to himself as the three of you board the elevator. Depsite it being a short ride you find yourself getting sleepy, lying your head on Katsuki's shoulder failing to suppress a yawn.
Deku's door appears before you quickly and you wonder if you had fallen into a cat nap. You stare at the numbers, senses slowly becoming heightened as your eyes flicker to your own door.
Would you find items from your bags missing?
Or Would there be more gifts for you to discover?
"Oi, magic hands. His key." Bakugo adjusts your weight hinting that he cannot use his hands, clearly over this whole situation.
"I don't need his key." Is all you say as you pull on the handle from within his room, the door opens itself yawning in the darkness of the room.
Your nails bite into Bakugou's shoulder before he begins walking in, hoping that you're focused enough to float Izuku to his bed. Your grip on his shoulders does not let up until Katsuki flicks on the small foyer light with a grunting struggle. Biting nails ease up as you pad into the dark room.
Although you are scared that someone may be lurking in the shadows you press forward, wanting more than anything to protect the two people behind you.
Light floods the room from overhead as Katsuki flicks on another light switch revealing nothing but a bed and neatly packed suitcase. You sigh before guiding the lush onto the plush white duvet.
"Alright, let's go." The hot head growls, flicking off the lights. That you flick back on with your quirk.
"No, we need to take care of him properly Suki. He can't sleep in his suit! What if he gets sick?!" You hiss, while items around the room begin to move on their own as if a ghost were present. Turning on the tap, pulling down a rag to wet with cool water, floating a trash can by the side of the bed.
Bakugou leans against the wall with a snarl, watching as you work. He notices how you choose to use your hands to free him of his shoes and socks. Before they make their way to his jacket, a sliding it off gently before pulling his shirt from his pants. Nimble fingers unlatching buttons slowly causing something to stir within the ash blonde. When you hands reach for his belt that something multiplies tenfold.
Bakugou Katsuki will die before he admits that something was jealousy.
He nudges you out of the way with his hip.
"Go get that rag before the sink fucking over flows." He hisses to which you give him a cold look disappearing into the bathroom.
Bakugou pulls harshly on the pant's legs, ripping them from Izuku leaving him in jade green boxers and a white shirt. He grumbles turning on his side to face Bakugou.
"Th..thank you Kaachan. W...will you text Ohacho that I'm okay?" His voice comes out raw, hand clutching to the hot head who threatens to pop. He goes to hiss no but Izuku rambles on.
"Y/N seemed to have had a good time. I know she's been a little worried and stressed lately but she shouldn't be. She's got you looking after he Kaachan..." Deku's eyes water for some reason as the blonde's face burns, eyes darting to the bathroom door where he hears you humming, he is unsure if you can here him or not.
He hears you let out a small curse as you fumble with what sounds like a pill bottle with a child safety cap. A drunk's worst enemy. He sucks his teeth.
"I don't think she likes me much." The blonde sighs while Deku's hand tightens once more.
"She gravitates towards you, especially when we are in a group." With that Bakugou scoffs.
"Only cause I'm her walking purse. Now shut the hell up and tell me where your fucking phone is." He snatches his hand away, rooting through jacket pockets before pants pockets. His fingers touch the smooth glass that lights to his touch.
He guesses the passcode and the phone unlocks, he scoffs again at knowing Deku so well.
But what the blonde doesn't know is that you *had* heard them. You heard everything.
Still you act as if you didn't when you emerge from the bathroom as Bakugou slams the phone on the bedside table, not even waking the now dead to the world Izuku. You set the rag on his forehead earning a small smile, the pills sit idle by his phone that you now plug in for him.
"Alright alright stop babying him and let's get to bed." Bakugou hisses, half from annoyance and half from worry that dumbass drunk will run his mouth again. You cut him a nasty glare before leaning over the sleeping man to fluff his pillows.
Katsuki grits his teeth not allowing his eyes to linger on your toned ass for long.
Suddenly strong arms are wrapped around you as Izuku curls into you, nuzzling into the side of your hip.
"Ochaco..." He hums as slight panic washes over you. How would you get out of his arms with out disturbing him?
Bakugou's popping hand lands hard on Deku's toned bicep, he seems unphased as he releases you with a loud snore.
"Come on, Y/N. Before he holds you hostage." A growl as he gives you a toned back. You stare at him for a long time before he turns around again snatching you up princess style.
"O..oi!" You stammer, slapping his chest to which your only reply is a devilish smirk as he makes his way into the hall way.
"You didn't want to get your feet dirty remember princess?" He stands in front of your door now as you fight the blush forming on your cheeks trying to remind yourself that only a few short days ago you wanted to kill this man.
Yet here is stood, holding you so delicately, demonstrating patience for you in situations where you wouldn't have done the same for him.
He waits for you to do your door trick as you let the numbers burn into your retinas.
Was he in there? Waiting?
You hadn't seen him at the party so where else would he be. All the while Scarlet eyes see the fear in yours, he hates to see you like this.
Why wouldn't you just fucking tell him what was wrong so he could fix it?
Why did he even fucking care?
He wasn't sure, he just knew something changed between the two of you this weekend and he wasn't aware how much more things could change in just a few short hours.
You swallow thickly about to raise your hand before Katsuki starts walking towards his own door. You knit your eyebrows as you look up to him, he grunts as if to prompt you to open his door and you do.
"I wanted to watch another movie with you." Is all that he offers as he sets you down. You chalk it up to him being drunk as he leaves you alone in the foyer disappearing into the bathroom.
Steam begins to waft into the shared space with the bed and couch. The blonde pokes his head out to instruct you.
"Find a movie and get settled I'm not gonna be longer than five. I have a clean shirt you can use iffin ya want or I can get your something for you."
"I..I'm fine." You half stammer, almost stumbling into the room.
You were weighted down with an emotion you hadn't felt in a long time. Relief floods you, seeping into your limbs causing them to feel like heavy sand bags.
The room spins from the booze and your racing heart beat as you unzip your long dress, stepping out only to plop onto the bed. You find the plastic remote quickly surfing before your eye lids become too heavy.
Bakugou keeps his promise and emerges from the bathroom in five minutes. Violently rubbing the towel on his head before tossing it into the bathroom clad only in his boxers. He spies you on the bed and freezes.
He wants to shout but you are seemingly fast asleep, he is instantly regrets not forcing you to take one of his shirts as you lie topless and in a small thong over the white duvet.
"Fuck...."He hisses both from the sight of you and the situation. He would HAVE to sleep on the couch tonight, no letting you convience him other wise. He charges his phone, rummaging in his bag for an extra cord before plugging in yours on the same side table. He looks to the closet for an extra blanket to cover you up but when he comes up short he has to stop himself from blowing the whole damn closet to smithereens.
The door groans from his grip and your sigh of content pulls him out of his fit of rage. His eyes linger over you while he wonders if he can get you under the duvet.
He himself sighs as he gently tries to wrap you in the part of the duvet that would have been meant for him. Holding his breath he tries to move it over your sleeping form as you roll onto your back. Just as he is ready to set it down and tuck you in your eyes snap open.
Glowing with panicked rage before easing into something soft.
Much too soft for Bakugou to decipher.
In the glow of the TV Bakugou looks extremely different. The flashing soft light paints him in such a way that you feel hypnotized by his red eyes.
Eyes that you've felt all weekend, eyes that bring no worry or panic or untapped rage unlike the other green pair that has hunted you down.
How could just a few days change things? How could a pleasant afternoon, an odd night and this moment right here with him hovering over you as he tries to be a man and blanket you change everything you though you knew about him?
How did the glow of the TV make him so fucking handsome?
Your hand snakes to the nap of his neck pulling him down so that you may capture his lips. He pushes against your grip with all of his might.
"You don't want this..." He murmurs, eyes darting away, "I'm too..."
You watch his intense eyes dart away with the shadow of memories past. Ah, so he too felt as if he were too overbearing, too head strong.
Too fucking angry over nothing to be loved.
"Then lie with me Kaachan. I want that." You move yourself beneath what is your half of the duvet, patting the sheets beside you. He stares at you for a moment too long, suddenly you feel raw beneath his heated gaze, leaving you to wonder if you made the right choice allowing him to bring you in here.
As if reading your mind he sucks his teeth rounding the bed to plop angirly. Giddy escapes your body in the form of a breathy giggle as you drape him in the duvet. Snuggling against his arm much to his dismay and blush.
"I'm gonna get too hot." But he makes no move, if anything he adjusts his arm so you can snuggle deeper. The movie lulls on as your drunken mind wanders, landing you in a devilish thought.
"You're much better than that body pillow." You tease, tracing a finger down his Godly chest, he goes rigid beneath you, "Less clothing too..."
He grabs onto your wrist, holding your gaze with a deadly smirk.
"Ah is this what you've been doing with it?" You blush furiously in answer while he laughs darkly, "Perv."
"I...no its different when it's the real thing. Your pillow is tacky your shirt isn't even ripped in the right places." You huff angrily, encouraging his smirk.
"You're right it is different cause this isn't the only thing I'd do to the real one." Heat blooms on your cheeks as you prop yourself up to better see those deep pools of scarlet.
"What would you do to the real one?" It's flirty and yet serious, as you press your bare breasts against his arm and chest hoping to get a rise out of him. He sucks his teeth holding your stare none the less.
"Firstly I'd fuck the brat out of her." He laughs then as your heart claws up your throat, "If she'd allow it. The real thing hasn't been herself lately. I'm.....worried."
You kiss him then, straddling him faster than he'd like. He fights to keep from kissing you back but once you bite his bottom lip and pull he loses all thought. Flipping you over, hungry lips and gnashing teeth find your neck and bare breasts living little blooming circles.
You moan out as he makes his way down. He notices your ripped skin coming to your face with a snarl.
"I'm not talking about it." You say grabbing the back of his neck, not allowing him to break free as he soon melts into your touch.
Fine you don't want to tell him? He'll just fuck the shit out of you and make you wish you had told him.
That you'll tell him everything that bothers you.
And he'll fuck you hard enough that eventually you'll tell him everything that makes you happy.
Because now he's having a hard time noticing from the fringes.
He devours you whole, kissing and biting as his fingers find your slick sex. He smiles against your neck as he speaks in a voice soaked in desire.
"So wet for me already little kitten?" You hadn't realized you liked the pet name until it falls from his kissable lips. You smile a deadly smirk, feeding his ego as you look him in the eye.
"Only for you King Explosion Murder." You say it will all seriousness as his smirk turns into a dark chuckle.
"I guess Kirishima disclosed my pilot hero name huh?" His hand dips to your core, swirling quickly causing your eyes to flutter, "Its King to you got it kitten?"
You buck against his hand in response. He happily obliges, devouring your lips whole as you pant, moaning as the heat builds in your core. He edges you purposefully several times before you gasp out.
"Please..." He smirks then nipping at your neck.
"Please what?"
"Please King. Do your worst." Your breathy voice has him going mad as he places kisses down your breasts and stomach. Stopping to give small kisses around the bandage over your navel before you give him a gentle push further. He wraps deadly arms around your hips, spreading your legs as he bites into the tender flesh of your inner thighs.
You both moan and ooze in ecstasy as he leaves lovely bruising bites on your thighs before he goes onto you. Swirling his tongue along your needy clit as fingers pump into your core. He goes harder and faster with each loud gasp or moan you make, listening to your body as your core desperately grabs onto his fingers. Your head begins to swim from the threat of your first of many cum of the night. He smiles up at you with deadly scarlet eyes before he clamps down over your sensitive bud, sucking until you're a screaming thrashing mess.
"Bakugoooooooohhhh!" Is all you can say between outright moans as he over stimulates you with harder sucking and thrusts until you're cumming again and then once more before he crawls back up you.
Crashing a kiss onto your reddened face before he flips you over, raising your hips in the air and pushing you harshly against the bed.
He thinks better of it, removing his strong palm from the nape of your neck suddenly remembered how you've recoiled from his touch before.
"I'm okay...please..." You muffle, keeping your face comfortably smooshed between pillows and the soft mattress. Bakugou returns his hand without hesitation, pushing you further down as he teases you with the tip. Sliding it up and down your slick as you try to push agaisnt him.
He slides in slowly, inch by inch until he is still and deep within you. Causing you to attempt to get some friction after you feel him twitch. He starts with a slow but harsh pace, pulling all the way to the tip of his head before crashing back into you, hitting your clit nicely with his hanging anatomy. Over and over until it is faster and somehow harder as he ruts into you. Grunting as he goes encouraging your clenching moans as he eases both his and your frustrations.
For once in your life you relax, you take it as your body becomes limp, your back arching before his hands grab onto your hips, holding you in place. Your head swims, eyes flutter as you're starting to see stars.
Slowly you're learning in the time that he's fucking you that it's okay to rely on others, especially for pleasure. That it's okay to not have control.
Bakugou fights back the need to bust both literally and figuratively. His sweet salted caramel smell filling the intamite space, fighting the itch to let an explosion or two pop off of his arms.
"Fuuuuucckk kitten...you're so wet and good for me." His breathy tone sends you ever closer to yet another mind numbing crescendo. Heat washes over your body as he slows, you whimper in protest.
"I want you to cum King Katsuki..." Your voice is whiney as you attempt to buck against him to aid. He smirks, smacking your ass and watching with delight as it jiggles. He pulls at your hair, lifting you up as he leans over you to whisper closer to your ear.
"And where kitten do you suggest I do?" His voice is dark and ragged from vigorous work.
"In me." You say without hesitation, smiling deadly as he twitches in you. You expect to have your face shoved in the mattress once more but instead he flips you onto his back. Hand squeezing your throat a bit before he kisses your neck again. Leaving a large bruising bite on your collar bone. He ruts into you again, coming up to hold eye contact with you as you wrap your legs around his toned back.
Normally this is when you would look away, the eye contact would be too much as someone had their way with you. But for whatever reason you cannot as if he were a train wreck you couldn't tear your eyes away from.
And for whatever reason he cannot tear his away from you either. He has never finished facing a women, ever.
But he wants to. *Needs* to.
He wants to drink in how red your cheeks get, how your mouth forms over his name sending shivers down his spine. How your voice alone sends him into a crazed spiral that only you can placate.
He presses harshly against your hip bone as you pull him closer with your legs, he pulls on your nipple a bit causing another moan to fall from your lips. It encourages him to go harder and faster, hitting you in just right.
Sliding all over the g spot as his gaze holds yours stead fast. Sending you over an impossibly high edge as you feel him rut sloppily into you. Stars cloud your vision as you become unbearably hot, legs quivering, failing to stay on a toned back.
"Katsukiiii!!" You cry staying into scarlet pools that you drown in, he notices the slight glow to your eyes as small objects around the two of you begin to float. He let's off a small pop on his back before he sputters into you, pulling you close to him, breathing you in as he slowly thrusts. Breathlessly groaning in your ear.
Suddenly the room is plunged into silence although it is not uncomfortable. You're shaking from both the experience of letting go mentally and from the exhaustion he has put on your body.
"You okay?" He smooths a heated hand over your shoulder. You feel fine, you feel better than fine, great actually but life does not allow you to feel that way for long. Your mind pulls back into a panicked mode when you hear a slamming door and footsteps in the hall. Green irises try so hard to replace Scarlet in your very recent memory. Bakugou feels tepid tears hit his face. He pulls you into his chest rubbing your hand up the length of your back.
"I...I just want to forget those fucking green eyes." You sob into his chest, clutching at nothing. Explosions echo in the room before he soothes both himself and you. Quickly the booze and exhaustion pull you under, when you feel Bakugou pull away you wrap your arms around him harder than ever.
"Stay, please stay Kaachan...." You whisper, grip locked even as you fall victim to sleep.
Bakugou lies awake, over analyzing every sound in the hall way as he thinks. As he racks his brain of who you're fearful of with green eyes. He remembers then, that fucking creep staring at your door as if it were an open invitation to church.
Bakugou will pluck out those eyes for you.
You just have to let him.
#bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#katsuki x reader#bnha imagine#bnha fanfiction#bakuogu angst#bakugo angst#bakougo katsuki x reader#kittenwrites#bhna x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugo x fem reader
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Evan x Reader - Stage Fright (SMUT)
Hey! Sorry for the lack of updates but here is my most recent fic!! It's a request for Evan x reader to help with evan's pre-performance anxiety :) sorry if there are mistakes I was pretty sleepy writing this towards the end but I wanted to get it out! I have made some edits since publishing to make it longer and more coherent (there were some perspective issues because I was so sleepy when I finished it off - pun intended) :)
Mumbles floated around you as you all sat on the stage, curtains drawn, chatting before the evening showing of chicago. You turned to feel Evan tapping on your shoulder. You looked up to see Evan in his costume, a white shirt unbuttoned so his chest hair was visible with black trousers and you were a little turned on when your eyes reached his face and you saw the beard he had grown out for the role, in order to look older.
“Sup babe?” You asked, noting the worried expression on his face.
“Oh, uh, just stressed, can we go sit in the hall?” He looked at you pleadingly.
“So what’s the stress?” You asked, turning so that you were sat leaning against the wall.
“God I’m just, I’m worried that- no it’s stupid, it’s not your job to manage my anxiety...” he stopped himself, sighing, he really had matured since you guys started dating.
“Of course it isn’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna support you!” You take his hand and beam up at him.
"I'm just stressed that I'm gonna, I'll screw up being Billy Flynn? I'm not like that and I'm scared that I'll be awful when it's in fron of the crowd."
"Evan, you'll be perfect and if you aren't no one will care, okay?" Evan nodded and you took his hands. "Now, did that help with your stress about this?"
"A little?" You smiled and he smiled back, a boyish grin covering his face. “What?” You ask, a light questioning tone in your voice as he grins. He pulled you to your feet before responding.
“Well there's 20 minutes before I need to be in hair and makeup... You know what would help me stop being so anxious?” Your eyes widen and you giggle a little, already slightly turned on by his confidence.
“Oh? What would that be, Mr. Hansen?” Smiling you traced your finger up and down his chest, the two of you giggling, you were so close you could feel his breathe on your lips. Your finger trailed down past his bellybutton and to the waistband of his black trousers. He looked down and then back up at you, shyness overcoming him, you pressed your lips to his and he sighed into the kiss as his anxiety faded away, his hands coming to rest on your waist. You pushed your hand into his waistband and he gasped into the kiss as you wrapped your hands around the base of him. You pushed him up against the wall and broke the kiss to begin gently biting his neck.
"W-wait here?? We-we're in the hallway, Y/N! There are dressing rooms you kno-" Evan stuttered and groaned as you began to slowly pump him inside his trousers, cutting him off. "No one's gonna come though here..." You mumble into his neck as you kiss up from him collar bone, his white shirt was already unbuttoned to show some of his chest for his outfit. "For at least 20 minutes, right?" You stroked the side of his face, feeling the roughness of his beard.
"Y-Yes probably- ah!" He gasped as you increased your pace, sucking harshly on his neck."Y/N I can't have any... god, fuck... I can't have any hickies..." He was breathing heavily, his fingers clenching and unclenching the fabric of the vest you're wearing. "Sounds like hair and makeup's problem." You whispered and and yanked his trousers and boxers down roughly in one go and licking a stripe up his length.
"A-ah! Y/N!" Evan nearly yelled, looking around the hallway to see if anyone was coming. He covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to subdue his own noises, he was not used to having to be quiet when you guys had sex and whenever you did anything in public it was usually him teasing you. You sucked on the tip of his dick, tracing patterns on it with your fingers as you sucked. He let out small muffled sounds and you looked up at him, excited at the fact that you could make him feel like this. You released him with a pop and he almost sighed in relief before you took him into your mouth again, but this time all the way.
"Ah!" he yelled, unable to contain himself and you deep throated him, your hand wrapping around the parts you couldn't reach. Evan glanced around to check no one was coming before tangling a hand in your hai r.
"Y-Y/N I'm so close..." He panted and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. He let out another groan at the image below him, your mouth wrapped around his dick, eyes closed as you focused on making him feel good, but he didn't fail to notice that one hand was inbetween your thighs, rubbing gently. "I'm so fucking lucky holy shit!" He gasped as he approached his orgasm. He pulled you up and kissed you, kissing down your neck as you continued to jerk him off eith your hands. His hips shake as he nears his end and you gasps as he bites down lightly on your neck, sucking it
Suddenly there was a clattering at the end of the hall and voices echoed around the corner from the direction of the dressing rooms.
"S-Shit!" Evan gasped and pulled his shorts up. You attempted to make yourself look a little presentable after Ev had messed up your hair by flattening it down and running your fingers through it. "U-uh Y/N oh my god I-I still have a... A you know, what do we do? It's really visible these pants are too fuckin tight." Evan cursed and you turned to see a rather noticeable bulge in his pants. 5 minutes ago the concept of this was very exciting but now it was a clear sign as to what you'd been up to.
"Uh, behind the stage?" You posed the hiding spot and Evan, starting to panic a little, nodded and you dragged him back towards the stage. Everyone was out on the actual stage and you pulled Evan into the broom closet behind the curtains instead of going out to join everyone else. Evan breathed a heavy sigh of relief as you both leaned against the wall of the closet.
"T-That was way too close! You almost got us in some serious trouble Y/N." He said and you laughed, his face was bright red."That was really irresponsible, why can't you behave?"
"Now, shall we solve this problem?" you ignored his reprenmand, assuming he couldn't actually be annoyed with you. "I think we've ended up making you more stressed, haha!" You sniggered and reached over to pull his face into yours, just as you did you noticed Evan's facial expression was nearer to a frown than the embarassed laugh you had expected. He didn't say a word, just pressed his lips harshly against yours and you let out a muffled squeak of surprise as he immediately forced his tongue into your mouth, pulling your mini skirt up a little so one hand was on your waist and the other was pushing roughly against your clothed clit. His beard brushed against your skin and your breath hitched at the sensation. You couldn't help but let out more yelps, leading Evan to grunt out a quick "you better stay fucking quiet." as he groped you roughly, pulling your panties aside and dropping to his knees. He didn't say anything like he did when he was drunk and rough, this was different, he was quiet and dominant, which was somehow hotter. He licked up your slit and you yelped before covering your mouth.
"Stay quiet." He said, clearly. You nodded and he turned you around to have you holding on to the shelves, ass in his face. "We have 12 minutes." He added as he checked his watch before pushing a finger into you, pumping in and out you could barely breathe due to all the whimpers that you were holding in. You grunted and gasped as he pounded you with just one finger, curling it so it touched the spongy flesh at the top of your vagina, hitting your g spot hard. He added another finger then another, pushing in and out with his tongue still on your clit until you came, gasping as questly as you could in order to evade detection. You were soaking and recovering from your orgasm, leaning into the shelves with your ass still on the air. Before you'd even figured out what was going on Evan was sucking hard on your neck, his trousers were on the floor and he was grinding against you. You gasped as your body spasmed a little from the over stimulation and having something inside you so suddenly after orgasming. Reached around and grabbed your arms, holding them behind your back while guiding the tip of his dick into you, you inhlaed sharply. Had he gotten bigger? God it felt like it. He wrapped his hands around your neck, applying gentle pressure to your throat.
Shocks of pleasure fly up your spine as you gasped with every thrust, pushing back against him, revelling in his grunts of pleasure and the feel of his fingers on your throat, applying the perfect amount of pressure. He released your hands and let you lean back and tangled his fingers in his hair, roughly increasing his tempo, his hips rutting against your and the sound of your skin slapping together along with the accompanying sting that was perfectly the border of pain and pleasure made it clear that you would have bruises tomorrow. He reached around with the hand that wasn't around your neck and rubbed your clit roughly, just a couple of times, but enough to send you over the edge, the feeling of you spasming around him was heavenly and he gasped and groaned as you tightened unconciously. He pulled out for a second to let you recover before easing the tip in as your entrance continued to spasm uncontrollably, his hand still rubbing your clit, stimulating you beyond your orgasm. It took everything in you not to scream out his name, instead opting to silently gasp his name over and over.
"Ev..." You groaned as he pushed all the way in. He pulled back and then pushed in again as you leaned back to kiss him roughly, hardly able to breathe due to the barrage of pleasure being caused combined with his hand around your throat. Evan faltered slightly in his pounding and whispered sweet nothings and and grunting, gasping out your name, how beautiful how tight you are for him. He let out a whimper and you knew he was cumming soon. You gasped into his mouth as he pumped in and out at increasing speeds, your fingers tugging his hair causing him to groan, his head dropping to rest in the crook of your neck as he was overwhelmed with pleasure.
He was pounding so hard that you knew you'd have bruises, reaching around your hips to rub your clit hard to bring you there again and it worked, you were teetering on the edge of your orgasm as he licked up your neck, then kissing your collar bone and leaving lovebites along your neck. He hit a few final thrusts as your orgasms hit both of you and your body shook uncontrollably and it took everything you had not to scream his name. Evan grunted softly as he came into you, thank god for birth control. He was still balls deep inside you and you held him there for just a second, unable to handle anymore movement in that moment.
"Jesus Christ Evan." You whispered, still gasping from your third orgasm in the span of 20 minutes.
"Sorry, was that too much?" Evan asked worriedly.
"That was fucking great Evan, if anything is too much you know I'd say so." Evan nodded and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. He pulled out roughly and you spasmed again because of the overstim. You grinned as you got dressed, adjusting your shirt and hair, fixing his too, you found some wipes on the shelf and cleaned yourself up, it wouldn't exactly look great if you started leaking cum everywhere would it? Now you were both dressed and you both stepped out of the closet and peeked around the edge of the curtain where people were finishing their dinner.
"Where were you guys?" Brooke turned around to see you walking in on slightly shaky legs.
"Oh us? Evan was just a little anxious so I took him for some fresh air to calm down.
Brooke looked at your shaky legs but you sat down before she could comment on it. Zoe was also sitting next to Brooke as she made a final adjustment to her costume. "Mmh. Okay well Evan you need to be in hair and makeup, your hair is a mess. And you look kinda sweaty. Also you have red splotches all up your neck that we'll need to cover." Evan blushed a bright red, glancing at you and you looked away, trying not to laugh out loud. He glared at the back of your head before answering. Zoe made eye contact with you and you grinned at her, blushing and she spluttered a laugh before muting it with her hand. "Ah yeah... I um, I..? I had an... allergic reaction!" he almost shouted as he figured out a reasonable lie, he was never very good at it. "I had an allergic reaction to something earlier, didn't realise that um... That cheese crackers had actual cheese in them?" He fumbled through the lie and Brooke raised her eyebrows, looking at you both. "Right..." She sighed and dragged Evan off to the dressing rooms.
"Y/N! You guys couldn't wait??" Zoe blurted out as soon as they were gone. "Hey! anything to help Evan's stress..." You mumbled before getting out your script to practice your lines.
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