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#scout won't shut up
numberonekoalawitch · 6 months
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He won't stop talking.....
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msommers · 1 year
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ocs + character study ↳ Jorina of Denerim
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No Regrets - Part One
Content Warning: mentions of main character deaths but these are temporary because this is a time travel two-to-four-shot and so, they start dead but then get better :3 Also maybe a whiplash warning? In that it starts off kind of dark for a story that's pretty light-hearted in the end.
Here's the first part of the threatened season 4 AU time travel fic where Steve gets thrown back to the moment in family video when Dustin and Max show up demanding the phones. Previously he was 5 years into a grueling apocalypse.
Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six
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Steve has lived his life in regret. Replaying scenarios in his head over and over late at night when sleep eludes him. And sleep is always eluding him these days, weeks, past five years. Steve hasn't known a day without regret since the day they failed to kill Vecna, the day Max almost died. The day Eddie did.
It's five years to the day today.
Steve spends endless nights thinking about how he'd change that spring break. It was the start of the end of everything. Eddie's death wasn't world ending for Steve. It was the end of a what-if. A maybe. But for Dustin. Oh God, Dustin. Who had blamed himself for Eddie's death, who was broken and then never able to get time to recover. To grieve.
Dustin, who pulled away from everyone, from Steve, because of it.
He's not dead, Steve knows, because he still hears his voice on the radio. Separated from the group but vital to their survival. He spread intel on Demo-creature movements, where safe spaces are, news from across the broken and destroyed America, and how to survive the hellscape.
There have been losses. Terrible, tragic losses.
Murray Baughman. Lucas Sinclair. Karen and Holly Wheeler. Will Byers. And those are just the ones he knows. A lot of people scattered to the wind when Hawkins became overran with the Upside Down and its creatures.
He's still two days out on this supply run. Two more days and he'll get to know who is still around. Who they lost this time. It's not always someone they know, but the horrors never cease, and Steve's been gone a total of three weeks.
"Hey," Robin breaks him from his thoughts as she leans over to whisper in his ear, "since you're gonna daydream, you might as well actually dream. Scouts say it'll be a while before we can continue moving."
"I'm not daydreaming, I'm thinking."
"Well, be sleeping instead. You'll be more useful with some rest," Robin pats her shoulder, inviting him to lean his head against it.
"Don't use my weakness against me. You know I love being useful," Steve sighs as he drops his head onto her shoulder.
"I know. It makes you easy to manipulate," Robin teases. He can hear the smile in her voice. "Now, shut up and sleep."
Steve grumbles under his breath. No real words, just grumpy noises as he does shift and get as comfortable as he can leaned against Robin. He is tired, and with nothing else he can be doing, he won't feel too guilty about it.
He closes his eyes.
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He opens his eyes, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness of the sun shining through the glass storefront of Family Video. Usually when he dreams of the past, the sun's never this bright. It's been years since he's seen the sun at all, with the red-black sky of the Upside Down looming above them constantly.
He takes a deep breath, basking in the fresh(ish) air of Family Video. How long has it been since he's taken a breath without his mouth covered by a mask, bandana, some cloth or another? Well, he's not really breathing without a mask on, his conscious self has one on, but it still feels good to fill his lungs and release. He has half a mind to jump the counter and go outside to repeat that; see if his unconscious mind will provide a difference in the air, if it remembers enough to do so.
"Hey Steve," Dustin says as he is stepping through the doors with Max at his side. It's then that Steve takes in where the dream has started. The doors have just opened, and Steve's looking partially over his shoulder, towards the doors instead of the TV as it plays the news of Chrissy's death on the screen. The world fades back into motion, instead of the slowness the beginning of his dream started as Dustin finishes his question, "how many phones do you have?"
"Are you seeing this?" Steve asks on autopilot, playing out the scene he knows, but he holds off from stating the someone was murdered part. He's tired of saying it.
"How many phones do you have?" Dustin asks with more urgency.
Steve takes in Dustin and Max while Robin explains the phone situation. It's been so fucking long since he's seen Dustin. Since Max was able to see him. God. He can't let this play out like normal. It's not going to fix reality, he knows that logically, but what would it hurt to live out his fantasy of getting a re-do while he dreams? Wasn't that what he was thinking about while awake?
He tunes back into the conversation when Dustin shoves his backpack across the counter, and then himself. Instead of whining about the tapes, he reaches for the pen and notepad they keep close to the till. "Hey, what's this about?"
"Max, fill them in while I do this," Dustin replies.
Max turns to him and Robin, who is eyeing both Steve and Max but listening. Max explains what Steve already knows. The lights going crazy, Eddie fleeing his own home, and that it might be Upside Down related.
There's a script here. Responses he has memorized because of how often he dreams this moment over and over. An answer Steve usually gives, but this time he finds he can hold his tongue. He doesn't have to speak. Doesn't have to follow the script.
"Okay," Steve says instead. "Dustin, what's the number for the Byers now?
Surprisingly, that actually pulls Dustin from the computer. He spins on the stool to give Steve a confused look. "What? Why?"
If he's being honest with himself, he's never really had this much control over his dreams before. Having this control makes him want to do all the things he's daydreamed about. To change the choices that fill him with regret and guilt. "I want to leave a message for Jonathan," Steve lies, "or talk to him if he's home. Give him a heads up that Upside Down shit might be going on again."
Dustin narrows his eyes at Steve, suspicious, "Jonathan?"
"Yeah. Jonathan," Steve says in his bitchiest voice. "Number, dude."
He can tell Dustin doesn't fully believe the lie, but he recites the number anyway.
"Thanks," Steve says as he scoots around Robin and heads to Keith's office to use the phone there. The first thing he does is call the police station and let them know that he saw Eddie Munson at Rick Lipton's place, up by Lover's Lake on Holland Road. The lady who answered starts to ask questions, Steve just says he recognized the trailer on TV as the Munson's and hangs up. He'll swing by later once everyone else has pieced together the Rick Lipton part of this all themselves. If Eddie's still there, he'll drag him to the station himself.
'Cause the thing is, Steve has thought of many scenarios. So many. And even if nothing else changes, this is the bit that will. Eddie cannot be killed in the Upside Down if he is in a jail cell instead. And if the police do follow up on his tip, then they'll take Eddie in for questioning before Fred dies. And that's.
Well.
Steve's living through the end of the world and that changes people. It's changed Steve. Once there would have been a time when allowing someone to die, knowing it was going to happen and not stopping it, would have filled Steve with guilt, regret, maybe even some self-loathing. But Steve's made enough sacrifices for this town. Lost enough of the people he loves to be jaded. Maybe even cruel. If Fred has to die to prove that Eddie didn't do it, then that's what will happen.
His next step is to call the Byers. It surprises him that Joyce actually answers with a hesitant hello. That never happens in the dreams.
"Joyce. I mean, Ms. Byers. It's Steve. Uhh, Steve Harrington," he says.
"Oh. Hello Steve. What, uh, what can I do for you?" Joyce's voice is still hesitant.
"Listen, the Upside Down is back. Or, like, it was never gone? I don't know. But I needed to tell you."
"Oh my God," Joyce sounds horrified, and Steve can hear Murray in the background asking questions. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Vec- sorry, it has already killed a girl. Max was a witness. Well, of the aftermath. But that's not important. What I need is for you to tell El that she's never been a monster and never will be. That everything has been the fault of One. And I think you should tell her Hopper is alive and you're going to rescue him."
There's not an immediate answer. A rustling sound and then faint voices he can't make out. She must be covering the phone with her hand as she and Murray talk. Or argue, knowing Murray. After a moment, Murray's voice comes through the line, "How do we know you are who you say you are?"
It's followed by Joyce shouting, "How do you know about Hopper?" and Murray quickly shushing her and some shuffling noises before Joyce says, "Okay. We're both listening."
"Look, I know you have no reason to believe me so I'll give you something that might serve as proof that I know things I shouldn't. When everyone gets back from the roller rink, be there for El. She's going to- to have a bad night, because of a girl that's been, like, bullying her at school. Then, I need you to get them headed this way tomorrow morning, because you gotta be gone then, too, but like. Be there for El tonight. There will be an incident involving a roller skate. So, if you believe me, call me back after that."
"How do we know you're who you claim to be, Steve?" Murray questions again, while Joyce says, horrified, "El's been being bullied?"
"I can't exactly prove I'm me. But call my house tonight after you've spoken to El and I'll answer. That's the best I can do. I... I don't know if Jonathan or Mike have my number, but Mike can call home and get my number from Nancy. That'll be proof, right? Or Will can get it from Dustin. Whichever."
"And how do you know about something happening tonight at the roller rink?" Joyce demands.
"I know more than I should. So, if the roller rink thing holds up, and you decide to at least hear me all the way out, call my house," Steve hangs up then, not wanting to get into a loop of explanation.
"Steve! Hurry up and come help people while I help Thing One and Thing Two!" Robin calls through the door and Steve takes a step towards the closed door to comply but he stops, hand hanging just above the doorknob. That's how the dream goes. That's what 19-year-old Steve would have done.
But that's a Steve that died five years ago, when the world ended, when the apocalypse started. Steve's not 19 anymore, though he must look it, a master of his own puppet. He's never sought himself out in a mirror when he dreams; he's too busy taking in everyone who has been lost to him in his waking life to bother with himself.
What does he want to do this time?
What does he want to do right now?
He leaves Keith's office to beeline to Dustin, pausing only to pat Robin on the shoulder. He slides around Max and comes to a stop beside Dustin.
"I already told you, I need this for-" Dustin starts to speak but cuts off with a squawk that sounds like a mixture of indignation and confusion as Steve just reaching out and bodily turns Dustin towards him. "Steve, this is important!"
"I know," Steve says and then hugs Dustin. Dustin doesn't hug back, but neither does he pull away. Steve knows he's missed Dustin, felt his loss for many years now, but holding Dustin now, feeling him solid and here feels Steve what he can only equate to grief.
Dustin lets himself be hugged for what is, undoubtedly, an awkward amount of time for him before he thumps Steve's back twice and says, "okay... You can stop now."
Steve lets go and turns to Max, who immediately puts her hands up, "No. Absolutely not."
He chuckles and steps around her. He won't force his affection on her.
Then he takes off the family video vest and sets it on the counter.
"Steve?" Robin asks.
"Sorry, Robs, I can't stay and help customers. I have some things I got to do."
"Steve, you cannot abandon me on a Saturday!"
He can't quite bring himself to feel bad for abandoning her. It is a shit thing to do but right now saving Eddie and Max from Vecna is more important. He's already wasting daylight, so instead of answering his gives her his best 'I'm so sorry' face and bolts out the door. All three of them shout after him but he doesn't slow.
He's got a list of regrets to change.
-
Tagging the besties and all the people that expressed interest when I posted the lil blurb about this. Sorry if I missed you!
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @music9009 @apomaro-mellow @soaringornithopter @reighnofdreams @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @sirsnacksalot @livelifeliketheresnotomorow @sageclipse @schnukiputz @mbloggotdeletedsothisismybackup @lumoschildextra @vampirestevie @alex-axolotl @juleswashere3 @yet-still-more-banched
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sugarlywhispers · 6 months
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the fall | b.katsuki - prohero!reader goes undercover
☆– warnings; heart breaking ANGST, a bit of comfort, not a happy ending or well, it is, just not the one you expect, vulnerable!Bakugou Katsuki.
☆– a.n; i don’t know how many times i have deleted, rewritten, deleted again and rewritten again this piece lmao i consider it a win the fact that i just finished it xD also, i don't know if this will have a continuation… thou there’s a high chance that it does because i loved the way it ended lol enjoy <3
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If Bakugou Katsuki could be properly honest he would openly admit that being a Pro Hero sucked , approximately eight times out of ten. Mostly it wasn't for the times injuries went worse than expected or felt worse as time progressed and the getting old finally settled in the bones. If he could be entirely open about it, the worst part was when a hero had to take undercover work.
Bakugou hates it. He hates it so much, he could quit. And that was a realization that unsettled him, because this was what he had dreamt about since he was a shitty brat kid: kick shitty villains asses from left to right.
But he got to actually accept and admit this particular annoying, and again, shitty fact, his resentment about that specific part of the job, when it was your turn. When you had to go undercover, and so deep into it, that it had been two years… two fucking years, since he got any news about you.
How fucking dared you. He was–is your best friend, right? Then why not send him even a simple 'I'm okay, still alive' message. Not even a quick phone call where he could at least hear your breathing; he would know it's you, because he knew everything about you. Well–not everything as he would like to. But he was your friend, you had confided in him plenty of times, you had been his partner since you were a little brat from UA doing your internship and he was the newbie Hero in charge of you. You have been through good and shit together. Was it too difficult to just let him know you were fine, fucking alive? Were your new surroundings too dangerous for you to not give any signs of life to any of your friends? If it was dangerous, why the fuck haven't him, or Red Riot or even shitty Deku, been sent to help you?!
Bakugou took another deep breath, face laying over the stinky bar table, hand holding a glass of something he couldn't fucking remember Ejirou said it was. Probably a shot of tequila with lemonade, given the strong flavor in his mouth. Fuck, he wished it was something way more stronger, like firewisky or some shit like that.
"Mina was right. You do look like trash," shitty hair smiled, knowingly and even mockingly at him, which infuriated Katsuki more.
"Shut up, ass." He wasn't drunk, but he wished he was. Katsuki couldn't get drunk because he had patrols to run that same night, he was not an irresponsible asshole, no matter what and no matter who.
But he did wish he could drink himself to sleep. He hadn't been sleeping quite well lately– or more like over two fucking years. Katsuki sighs. He knows he is exaggerating. He knows you. You don't need him to worry about you, you can definitely take care of yourself and he has witnessed how capable you are of it plenty of times already. Damn, you once even kicked his ass for being a jerk– he won't admit it, but that was the day he actually started seeing you more than just a friend. Coincidentally, it was three days before you had to go undercover. What a bitch of luck.
"Todoroki said they were going to scout some of us to go look after her," that brought Bakugou's attention back, sitting up straight and looking directly at his best friend's serious expression on his face.
"I'm in."
Kirishima sighs, "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Fuck you. I'm going..." Katsuki begins his protest but Ejirou doesn't let him continue.
"Katsuki!" Both friends look at each other's eyes for a moment without saying anything. Until Kirishima confirms out loud, "You love her."
The blond stays silent, not admitting or denying it, looking at his best friend's eyes that turned completely professional and determining.
"I will go." He presses firmly and with no room open for discussion, which makes Kirishima sigh.
The red head looks down at the glass he is holding with his drink, a cocktail that had a bit of ron and orange juice, as he plays for a moment with his fingers around it. He takes a sip of it, and after he puts the glass back on the table, he looks back at Katsuki's eyes and says, "I'm not here to invite you to go. I'm just being your fucking best friend in letting you know about this."
Bakugou growls looking elsewhere but his best friend, annoyed that he lost the discussion. He knows by Kirishima's stance and words he is not fucking going, and it innervates him.
He really doesn't want to think about it now. He doesn't want to think about you . He doesn't want to worry yet all he does is worry . For you. For your wellbeing. For the situations you probably have gone through, alone. Not with him around to take every blast he could for you. Not with him to kick some sense in that stubborn head of yours, and vice-versa.
Fuck. He worries so fucking much it is already affecting his head, his performance in battles, his everything. Katsuki had even taken more work than he should trying to keep his mind busy to not think about you.
Kirishima knows. He had known all the bullshit Katsuki was building up inside him for a while now. He always knew when something was off with his best friend. So he invited him to have some light drinks so they could talk a bit, even though that is the least thing Bakugou would ever do. Especially about his feelings. However, Kirishima knows. He has always known.
And he was not letting his friend alone to drown in his feelings.
Bakugou looks at his friend when he feels his hand grab his shoulder. The intensity in Ejirou's eyes makes Katsuki's throat tighten.
"I will bring her back."
"I'm-..."
The explosion makes the ground tremble, and it was enough to sober Bakugou and Kirishima up.
They don't hesitate to run out of the bar and towards the place where it came, where also everyone seemed to run away from. It took them less than three minutes to arrive and both of them sigh in relief when they see they aren't the only heroes at the scene, as even Deku was already there in his costume, holding at least four villains under him. Uravity was close, she had at least ten floating in the air with her Quirk, and was setting one by one on the ground again as another hero would catch and restrain them, before guiding them towards the police cars. The scene is pretty much under control, so that makes Katsuki relax a bit.
Ejirou moves to action, offering help wherever he could. Him and Katsuki walk towards Deku, helping him with the four under him that are struggling forcefully.
Deku smiles thankfully to his friends.
"There's the bitch," says the one Ejirou is holding from the back of his shirt.
"She's fucking dead," threatens the one Katsuki is holding, which makes him angrily manhandle the scum.
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Fuck you, hero!"
Katsuki doesn't have time nor the patience for this, so he doesn't care when he pushes the villain inside the car way more forcefully than he should.
Deku comes running to them as the cars take their way, and he says hopefully, "Have you seen Y/N?"
Katsuki's entire being ignites at the mention of your name. The thought of just seeing you again makes something move inside his gut that is annoyingly satisfying.
"She's back?" Katsuki hates how hopeful his own voice sounded.
"Y-yes?" Izuku frowns, "Wait, you didn't know?" He looks at both friends perplexed.
"Know what?" Ejirou asks this time.
Izuku sighs. "This villain group was a big one that settled in America, where Y/N went undercover. They were planning to attack this base intending to rob the machine that scientists were creating that apparently could send someone to the past. This group wanted to go back in time to erase the source of Quirks, so they could control everything."
An unpleasant chill went down Katsuki's back.
"Y/N has been undercover all this time, working and proving herself so she could get in… She even got in the higher ranks so they would trust her and she could fakely guide them here, where there's nothing but a handful of heroes hiding in this abandoned building ready to catch them."
Deku sounds proud, which Katsuki could comprehend. Not that he would admit that out loud. But wait, that means…
"How do you know this?"
"She hasn't been in contact directly with me, Kacchan, but my agency has been in this case since the beginning and there were loops where she could send information. She couldn't be close to anything or anyone from here or she could have been in a huge danger. But one of my sidekicks has also been undercover with her. He was the loop. From what he told us, she climbed very high; with a Quirk like hers, I'm not surprised she was the only strongest in there. I wonder if-..." Deku went on and on with his mumbling in fascination with Quirks.
Katsuki rolls his eyes. He really doesn't have time to listen to him. He wants to find you, so he simply walks away in search of you.
Two years. It had been two years.
He ends up running towards the entrance of the building, looking around, eyes searching desperately for a sight of you. Heroes and villains around made it a bit difficult, coming and going, running and catching.
Until he finally sees you at a distance.
You are standing there, on the side of the scene, watching as every villain gets taken by some hero and put into custody of the police. The wind around is making your hair float to the side. You have dyed its color, which makes Katsuki think that no matter the color, you still look beautiful. You are beautiful, end of sentence.
But the expression on your face isn't the one of a Hero enjoying victory.
The villains were shouting stuff, and it isn't until he actually pays attention to what they are saying that makes him groan in anger. Why? Because they were shouting swears and threats at you.
And you simply stand there, not responding and receiving everything they throw at you. That makes Katsuki frown. You have never been that cold, that quiet against villains. Where was your fire? Your hatred towards those scumbags-good-for-nothing?
But then your head faced forward, in the direction towards where he was standing. Bakugou's entire being is shaking in anticipation, hoping, thriving for this reunion. Then he sees your eyes. Eyes that were colder than ice. Eyes that showed only a glance of how broken your soul was. And it hurts Katsuki's own heart to see you like that.
Your eyes didn't seem to recognize him at first. Like you were seeing a very distant and almost forgotten thought, a memory that had been pushed to the deepest part of your mind and now just watching him made your brain hurt while trying to figure out the memory.
You then realize it's him , your eyebrows shooting up in surprise and you smile slightly. A smile that doesn't reach your eyes. It is the kind of smile that means "cool to see you, but not very happy about it".
Your eyes go back to the scene, smile wiped from your face and the stoic, cold expression back on your whole being.
"It's The Fall," Deku suddenly appeared next to Katsuki, making the blond jump a little, which he faked it like he was just changing the weight of his body from one foot to the other.
"The fucking what?" Katsuki asks, a bit pissed that he got caught off guard.
"The Fall. When heroes go undercover, they have to pretend to be somebody else," Katsuki rolls his eyes exasperated.
"I fucking know what undercover means, Deku."
"You're not listening, Kacchan!" Deku turns to him, looking quite serious. "The Fall happens when the hero has to return, has to stop pretending to be someone else. And then, they find themselves with the question of whether whomever they were pretending to be was their real self or not."
Katsuki gulps. "I didn't-..."
"Of course you didn't, Kacchan. You have always been you. Fight or die. Hell, I even didn't, because I have always only wanted to be a Hero. But not everyone-..."
"Oh fuck," the blond swears, finally realizing. 
You are in a limbo. In trying to remember who you were, who you are and not; what you should do and not. The Fall was winning over you, as you suddenly moved to help a woman that apparently was on your villain team.
Katsuki doesn't waste time. He runs towards you, picking you up by the waist and walking away from the scene, towards the small alley next to the building, as Deku recaptures the other woman.
"Y/N!" He tries to reason with you as you start to kick him, arms and legs swinging in the air to try and catch him, hit him with all your might. "It's me! It's Bakugou! Katsuki!" You are screaming, not stopping to struggle, as he drags you away from everyone that could see.
"LET GO OF ME, YOU FUCKING HERO –..."
You stop every movement and scream as you realize what you just said. He finally gets to circle his arms around your chest, yours trapped under his big ones. Katsuki is breathing heavily. Fuck, he had forgotten how strong you could get.
"Hero," he repeats in your ear as you settle and relax a bit in his arms. Your back pressed to his chest, his arms holding you strongly. "I'm a Hero, Dynamight, Ground Zero," he said, "Great Explosion Murder God," he tries to joke, his throat tight and almost closed with emotions he was trying to hold back –this is not the moment for them–, saying whatever he could to help your memory remember him, "It's me, Y/N, Katsuki … Your 'Tsuki."
Sillence. Only your rapid intakes of breaths are heard between you two. Still, he doesn't dare to let you go. He feels like if he does, you will slip from in between his fingers like liquid, droplets of water impossible to tame or hold back. If he let you go, you are going to fucking disappear, like smoke impossible to catch, and fly very far away from him to never return.
Bakugou Katsuki is not willing to lose you again.
Your body starts to tremble as you sob, as you cry with all your might in Katsuki's arms. And his heart breaks for you.
"Shh , it's okay. I've got you, love. I'm here…" He soothes you, hands and arms holding you tight against his chest as you cry loudly. His hands start to caress the skin of your arms as he kept whispering into your ear.
Your cries are so intense and painful to hear for him, breaking every piece of his heart for you. He can feel your legs giving up, so he kneels with you on the dirty ground, not letting you go from his arms for even a second.
You suddenly turn in his arms, facing him. Yours surround Katsuki's neck and you hug him strongly, " Katsuki," you cry in his neck, and he wishes he was able to physically take the pain you're feeling right now and throw it very far away. Or even if he had the choice to trade it with you, he would. He would carry your pain, your sorrows, your everything, for you.
"I'm here. I'm here," he repeats as you cry, softly caressing your back with his hands.
Katsuki doesn't know how much time you waited there –now sitting on the ground, his back against a wall while you sat all curled up against his chest and in between his legs– but he notices everything is done and over when Deku peeks from a corner, holding his thumb up in sign that probably everyone had gone from the place. The blond nods, and Deku takes that as a sign that he could get close. His movements slow, careful to not startle you, put you still tense in Bakugou's arms when you hear footsteps.
"It's Izuku, love." Katsuki doesn't know where he learnt to be this careful and cozy with people, he thinks it's your fault. You have been the one who taught him so many things, that it actually doesn't surprise him when his big ass hands caress carefully and softly your head, reassuring you on that touch that it's okay to let go of him a bit. "Midoriya Izuku?" He tries his friend's real name, the one name he is sure you would be glad to hear���apart from his. But you simply respond by grabbing Katsuki harder, not letting go. "Hero Deku? Or… shitty Deku," he feels his chest puff in satisfaction when you try to hide your smile against his chest.
"Ha. Ha. Funny Kacchan…" Deku says, sitting on the ground right in front of you. Very different from you, Katsuki can not hide his own smile –not that he would even try to, which makes Deku roll his eyes and also smile. "How are you feeling, Y/N-chan?"
You exhale deeply; the long, tired sigh being answer enough, but you still say, "Like… all of this is a dream. Everything feels… surreal .” You gulp, finally pulling away a bit from Katsuki. He simply let you, hand still caressing your back in confort. “Like I’ll wake up any moment and be laying on the mattress on the floor in that one room apartment I live–used to… live.”
They both notice your slip as you frown and slide a hand through your lock in a clear frustrated sign.
“I don’t know… what’s fact and what’s fake anymore… I…” The tears fill your eyes once again, your hand now grabbing the beginning of your hair. Katsuki immediately grabs your wrist trying to make you let go. “I feel angry and sad… I feel devastated by what happened… But I also feel relief, and– I don’t know what’s the correct way to feel. I don’t fucking know who I am anymore!”
Katsuki hugs you again, rocking from side to side and hushing, whispering that everything is going to be okay.
He feels Izuku’s eyes on him, on both of you. And even if the fucker hasn’t said anything yet, Bakugou knows. FUCK. He fucking knows what his best friend is going to do. So he closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Fighting his own tears back.
But he can’t hold them longer after he opens them and sees Aizawa standing at a distance. Waiting patiently. Katsuki hugs you tighter.
“Y/N-chan…” Izuku says, his gloved hand pressing on your shoulder to get your attention. “You need help. Until everything settles back into you, you need someone that can help you with this. Do we agree?”
You nod, crying and sniffing as you pull away again, and this time is Katsuki’s turn to not want to let you go. His arms grab you stronger for a moment as he hides his face on your neck.
He doesn’t want to let you go. He just got you back. He has so much to say and do and prove. He doesn’t fucking want to let you go again.
Katsuki is in denial, he knows. And he also knows he is the most selfish bastard alive for not wanting to let you go so you can properly heal. But everything he has gone, without you, and now having a little taste of getting you back, whether that be even half of you… FUCK! He definitely sounds like the most egotistic, selfish motherfucker of all.
When he’s about to finally let you go, he feels your hand tangle in the back of his head in his hair. And when his eyes find yours, he sees it. He sees the need you have of him, the sadness, the joy, the kindness, everything… He sees the want, the care, the despair . So many emotions it’s even difficult for him to maintain eye contact.
And he sees it. The love…
“If there's something I haven’t forgotten is how I feel about you. But you don't deserve the me of right now…” He shakes his head in denial, his hands holding your face and cleaning your tears with his thumbs. “I will get better… I will come back for you.”
You smile at him, and a simple action hasn't hurt so much as this. Like someone stabbed him with a knife on his chest, right where his heart is. And he’s left there, bleeding towards his death as you caress his cheek delicately one more time and stand up and walk crying towards your old teacher.
Katsuki knows it is for your health and wellbeing, but who’s going to convince his heart that this isn’t again the last time he sees you? That you will come back, that you will look for him in your return.
He brings his knees towards his chest, arms hugging them and hiding his face there. And Katsuki cries. Like a child.
He feels Izuku’s movement to sit next to him as one of his arms surround his shoulder, and he has never been grateful enough to the nerd for being the fucking best friend he has ever had.
Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t look at you parting, walking away from him. He can’t.
But he wishes he had.
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ddejavvu · 2 years
Note
can you do something about making out with eddie under the bleachers at a basketball game? like sloppy make out session vibes? thank youuuu
Eddie's using too much tongue. You know he is, there's saliva dripping down your chin and the roof of your mouth is tingling from an accidental swipe, but you don't care. The squelch of your saliva blending in an obscene mixture that makes you dizzy.
You can hear the squeak of kids above you, sneakers scraping on the metal seats that you're huddled under. It's prime makeout session territory, and you've only had to deal with one other couple trying to steal it from you so far.
You hear the roar of the crowd above you but nothing matters more than Eddie's hand, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek while his fingers grip the back of your neck. He's using it to tilt your head backwards, so close to you that you can't breathe without smelling him.
He grunts and groans into the sloppy kiss, lips shining with spit whenever he breaks away only to shift positions and dive back in. You're feeling weak in the knees, though they're bent around his waist, and something below your belly stirs as his other hand squeezes your hip.
The ball, apparently out of bounds, slams against the metal slat just beside your face. Your eyes widen but it's useless to scream, because the sound is lapped up by Eddie who's barely even phased. His eyes snap shut again from where they'd been persuaded open by the loud noise, something aggressive in the way he rearranges you to face him again from where you'd startled.
His nose prods firmly at your skin, smashed there from how forcefully he's pushing himself into you. He kisses messy and he kisses hard, his tongue roving over yours with a hunger you'd only seen before sex.
"Eddie," You gasp in a rare moment of personal space, the second he pulls away to readjust, "We can't- not here."
"No one'll know," He barely bothers to grunt back a reassurance, already tugging your mouth to his. His tongue smooths over your bottom lip with ease, licking eagerly, sensually up into your mouth once more. But you push at his chest, gasping for breath when he pulls away with a raised eyebrow.
"Not here," You repeat, sounding like a broken record. He scoffs, amusement dancing in his eyes as he leans in. His tongue is hot and wet on your face as he licks a strand of saliva from your chin, lips meeting yours once more as he licks his way into your mouth.
"I won't do anything," He promises, although his hand is nearing closer and closer to the hem of your shirt, likely to slip beneath it, "Scout's honor."
"Were you a scout?" You breathe between kisses, intrigue quirking your brow up.
"Nope," He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head so that his messy curls fly around his shoulders. His hand finally snakes beneath your shirt and gives your breast a fond squeeze. He practically swallows your indignant scoff that comes only seconds later, lips already hungrily chasing your own, "That's why I said it."
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djarincore · 5 months
Text
Down by the River pt. 2
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SUMMARY: Wyll accidentally finds you bathing in the river.
PAIRING: Wyll x reader
WORD COUNT: 1k
TAGS: slight hurt/comfort, fluff, nudity
A/N: another version of this fic but with Wyll I just love this trope sm I wanted to write it again LMAO
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The horns on Wyll's head weighed him down—both metaphorically and literally. The new, extra weight to balance made him uneasy on his legs, which earned him extra cuts and bruises in battle, as well as a singed ego.
He was only as good as his blade. And what good was The Blade of Frontiers if he couldn't even use his blade? Who could he protect if he was stumbling around and people feared his new appearance?
The sun had set long ago and his fellow companions were readying themselves for bed. It was the perfect time to slip away and lament over his new appearance in solitude.
He wandered through the forest aimlessly, ignoring how late the hour was getting. His path eventually led him towards the river where the sounds of water could wash away his thoughts.
Unfortunately for him, the time for quiet respite would have to wait.
As soon as he reached the river, he locked eyes with you, chest-deep in the water. Your eyes widened, but you remained frozen.
“Gods, I'm sorry,” he apologized, averting his gaze to the ground. “I didn't mean to disturb you.”
He didn't expect to see you here. Last he saw you, you were exchanging recipe ideas with Gale by the campfire. He hadn't realized he was gone from camp for so long.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “You didn't disturb me. I was just taking a dip—care to join?”
It certainly was tempting. Especially when the offer came from you.
“I won't bite,” you teased, smiling to show off your non-pointed teeth.
“No, unfortunately, that's Astarion’s job.”
The two of you shared a sly smile. Teasing the vampire spawn happened to be a favorite pastime the two of you shared.
Of course, it was all fun and games. Astarion would always come up with a quick quip to shut the two of you right up, something about how the two of you should put your mouths to better use on each other. That little comment always worked, sending you and Wyll in opposite directions to pretend to scout for supplies.
“So, are you coming in or are you going to leave poor, defenseless me here all alone?” You pouted, pressing both hands over your heart. Though you pretended to look like an innocent maiden, he knew your fighting prowess was a match for him. You could easily fend off whatever malice lurked in the forest, but he would play along.
“How can I say no when you put it like that?”
With a beaming smile, you covered your eyes but left a small sliver between your fingers open.
Wyll wouldn’t say he was a shy man, but to have you watching him made the moment feel too intimate. All at once he could feel his shirt brush over every ridge along his back as he lifted it over his head. And he was keenly aware of the fabric catching on his horns.
“What’s wrong?” Your hand had gone below the water again. Any amusement is replaced with concern.
He was aware of so much wrong with his new body that he failed to realize he was frowning. He tossed his shirt on a rock at the water's edge.
“It's just… me,” he said, like it was something so obvious. He looked like a monster—a devil. You and all your companions had to see it too.
Your brows furrowed and you reached out a hand above the water, droplets fell from your fingertips as you beckoned. “Come here.”
“I-” He swallowed. “Can you turn around?”
You nodded and turned, waiting for his okay. He shed the last of his clothing, leaving it all in a neat pile where his shirt was. He slipped into the river soon after, taking in a sharp breath when the cold waters bit his skin.
He wadded behind you. The water reached just below his pectorals.
“You can turn around now,” he said. He almost wanted to hold his breath. He felt more vulnerable now more than ever. So close to you and completely bare.
You turned and moved closer, hoping to catch his eye. “You know I don't see you any differently.”
He laughed bitterly, turning his head down. His reflection rippled in the water, obscuring any clear reflection. He was glad—he was afraid of seeing the devil looking back.
“I'm serious.” Your hand moved to cradle his jaw, tilting his head up. His eyes were still downcast, sullen, lost in his murky reflection. “Have I ever lied to you?”
“No, but-”
He just couldn't see it anymore—the hero he was, was now just a devil in the reflection.
“Can I kiss you?”
His gaze finally snapped up to yours, mouth falling agape. You wore a cheeky smile.
“A kiss? I-” He felt his cheeks begin to warm. “You want to kiss me?”
“Yes, I have for a while now,” you confessed.
His heart was beating wildly because he felt the exact same, if he was being honest.
The slight nod from his was all it took for you to lean in and meet his lips. He could taste the sweet mead from dinner still lingering on your lips.
“Oh, finally,” an exasperated voice spoke from the bushes.
You both jumped away from the kiss and looked to find Astarion pushing aside some foliage to step out into the clearing.
“What in the Hells are you doing here?” Wyll demanded.
“Looking for a snack, of course. I guess I ended up following the scent of two lovebirds instead.” His signature smirk pulling across his pale face.
“Oh, piss off, Astarion.” You rolled your eyes and splashed some water in his direction. There was no need to be embarrassed by his comments now that the two of you knew your feelings for one another.
The vampire turned with a haughty laugh and called over his shoulder, “Don't stay out too late, lovers, or I'll be telling everyone why the two of you are exhausted in the morning.”
When Astarion disappeared into the brush, you smirked. “Is it too late to stake him?”
“I think I saw a few decently sized pieces of wood on my way here.”
“Lead the way.”
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robin374 · 9 days
Note
OMG HELLO, I'm not good with English so I'm sorry if it looks bad :((. I come to ask and request mercs for tf2 (or just snipers, scouts and medics) with an s/o who when they sleep together doesn't let them off, they are literally hugging each other from them and for nothing in the world does he want to let them go when they want to get up, thank uu byebye
"Don't go please"
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A/N: I'm back from the death. Don't worry pookie I've got you.
Characters: Scout, Sniper, Medic
Info: Gender Neutral Reader. Romantic.
Scout:
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I was going to say that he's exaclty the same. However, we all know that this man canno be still while sleeping. He doesn't do it on purpose of course, he is just naturally energetic, so he does in unconsciuly.
He goes to sleep with you between his arms and always thinks to himself: "I won't kick them out of the bed tonight." Only to wake up with you, still asleep, grasping his ankle for dear life at the edge of the bed.
If he wakes up before you, he embraces you and he waits for you to open your eyes to tell you that he held you all the night. Of course, you two have a job to do, and a Soldier out of your room's door screaming for you to 'get your asses up'. Surprisingly, he's the one to get up first, after trying to free himself from your hold.
"Alright, toots, it's time to get up..." he says as he leaves sofy little kisses all over your face.
Sniper:
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It may not seem like it, but the moment he feel sconfident and comfortable with you and the relationship, he's exactly the same. i know that I always say it, but I will die on this hill: He's your wet cat man!!
He doesn't move while sleeping, he's usually very calm. There are times that you think he's dead because you can't hear his breathing. However the slight squeeze you receive when you move tells you that he's alive (thank god).
You two always arrive to breakfast late, because those '5 more minutes' become in 10, then 20, 30... Soldier has given up already.
He likes to feel your warmth and smell your unique scent. His tensed up muscles relax whenever he feels you near him, and more if you touch are touching him, even if you two are just locking pinkies togheter.
Whenever you don't let him get up from the bed, he just accepts his defeat and lets you wrap yourself around him. You remind him of a koala to be honest.
Medic:
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Everyone thinks that he doesn't sleep...Honestly, I just think that he's the type of person that tells you to go to sleep early but he goes to bed at like 4 am or around that hour. Like he always tells you: "Y/N, you must go to bed early! Your body needs a minimum of 8 hours of sleep. Now go to bed, I will be with you sooner than you think."
Liar.
Even knowing that you are fast asleep and very comfortable in your shared bed he always wakes you up, telling you something really weird about his new experiment. "Do you want to see Scout's liver with legs?" He will ask you with a eager smile. Of course, he will drag you to his laboratory.
Everytime you hold his hand while you rub your eyes with the other. he's so happy to show you new things that he doesn't realize until later that you had been waiting for him. As an apology, he lets you hug him while you sleep. Then in the morning when Soldier knocks on your door he 'politely' tells him to shut up, and manipulates him into thinking that you need to have 8 hours of sleep to be fully focused on that day's battle. So he believes it and lets you sleep.
He's your silly mad scientist.
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atarathegreat · 3 months
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Relaxing Day Attack on Titan 1
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ft: Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein, Reiner Braun, Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman.
On the days that Armin wasn't out and doing Scout duties or training, he was trying to spend his moment's with you. In your room or following you while you complete your chores. He didn't mind terribly if your free days didn't match up, but on the days that they did he was so so happy.
Armin isn't one to simply go with the flow. He has the day planned out. Waking up together, cuddling before breakfast, maybe a nice horse ride to see the views. Neither of you are really picky, so long as you get to spend the time together without chores and duty getting in between you both. The man just wants to have you on his arm or holding his hand, hell, let him carry you. He has no issue.
But it's the moments when he wakes up and you look so precious in your sleep that he can't help throwing out whatever was planned. Kissing your face gently until you wake up and smile his favorite smile. Armin will wrap himself around you to keep you from getting up, even if you have to pee, because you're his to love and hold on to. And when you are finally free to use the bathroom, he's right there with you, telling you about his dreams or the days he spent away from you.
😴😴😴
Jean has no such issues. He doesn't care if you're tired from being worked by the captain for days on end, you're waking up with him. Even if you don't leave the bed. He's so wrapped around your fingers that when you wake up with an angry whine he feels bad and just gets up to make you breakfast in bed. Feeling awful is one of his most prominent features, but Jean always makes it right.
A nice tray of eggs and a warm potato is placed across your lap, a tender kiss left on your head as he leaves to get his own plate and join you. Profuse apologies fall from his lips, replied in kind with yawns and "it's okay"s. He won't believe you, but he'll shut up about it so that the rest of the day can be enjoyed.
🥱🥱🥱
With a husband that's such a workaholic, it's hard to catch Reiner on a day off. The rare occasion that Marley isn't busting his ass, you make it a point to wake up before he can and clean and cook a nice breakfast. If it was the only day he got off, then you wanted it to be the best.
Except that Reiner was a soft sleeper and woke up to the sounds of you cooking. Or maybe it was the scent. Being a bigger guy than he was when he left, you were a bit startled when he wrapped around your torso and laid his head on your shoulder. Deeper voice, stronger arms, Reiner wasn't the same boy from when he left. You didn't mind the company as you cooked and cleaned, taking the time to talk to him and hear about the little island everyone seemed to hate.
And yet, somehow, those devil's had softened him. He was more clingy, more talkative. Things you had wished he was before.
🛌🛌🛌
Erwin never takes a day off. He's in perpetual work mode. Papers need to be signed, Scouts need to be kept in line, and damnit you can't cook your own breakfast because he's the man of the house and he promised to take care of you.
That was before he lost his arm.
Now he was on bed rest and he hated it. Having you lift even a single finger to help him get dressed was getting on his nerves. But you assured him each morning that you really didn't mind and, in fact, liked to help him. You were his wife, you wanted to help and make sure he was okay. Even if he didn't like it and refused to make eye contact with you.
You'd hold his papers while he signed them, stack them neatly as he liked and even hold his cup so he could get a drink. It wasn't an easy transition for the commander, but you became his new arm.
🦾🦾🦾
Levi also refused to take days off. Why rest when he was well enough to work? Besides, you bustled around his office with him anyway. Not like he needed your help, and he'd never admit it, but he liked having you around him. You just made things easier.
He could send you off with papers to the commander instead of calling and waiting for a Scout, and that alone had sped up a lot of things. And yet, here you were, falling asleep as he worked late once again. A small part of him felt bad, until he remembered that it was your choice to stay behind with him.
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stormberry-12 · 7 months
Text
faceless // P3: yes sir. negative ~ charles leclerc x reader
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader
includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n". So sorry this took so long, I've had some mega writters block and no motivation really. But I hope it's still good and thank you so much for all the kind feedback, it means a lot! &lt;3
Bold Italics are the past.
Normal Italics are thoughts.
summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
"No fucking way mate," Lando choked out his words, "Holy fuck-" 
Lando's face had never looked so shocked, he scratched the inner corner of his left eye as if he thought he was seeing something. And when his eyes focused back on you, you could see his mind filling with questions. His eyes flickered from the helmet sitting on the ground to the tears brimming in your eyes.
"Oh my god," you sobbed into your hands as your mind began to race. 
Should you run away? 
'Oh, sorry Lando, no you must have seen my celebrity doppelganger in the suit earlier. It wasn't me-"
"No wait, don't cry-" he protested, rushing over and crouching down next to you on the ground, "You're my idol, I'm like obsessed with your driving, you're frickin' amazing-"
"Oh, shut up Lando!" you snapped, instantly feeling bad for yelling in his face. He was silent for a moment, not taken aback by your outburst though. "Sorry," you whispered.
You looked up to see him scanning your face intently. "You haven't told Charles yet," he said matter-of-factly like he could read your life all of a sudden.
You shook your head.
"Who else knows?"
"Just you and Christian-"
"Heh, I'm so special,"
"Lando stop!" you cried quietly, feeling more tears forming. "You weren't supposed to find out and I'm so going to get fired for this-"
"Why would you be fired?" he asked,  "You're the driver keeping Red Bull afloat right now while Max is shittin' the bed,"
"Because. It's part of my contract that no one knows who I am,"
"Who came up with that shit?"
You furrowed your eyebrows at him, "What shit?"
"Your contract rules," he said.
"We both did. I didn't want to be in the media, I've never liked it. And Christian just agreed I guess-"
"But you and Charles were just in a video together, you've been doing media anyway," He chuckled dryly.
True.
"And you and Charles love each other, I can see it in your eyes, I don't think the media content is going to stop anytime soon. Frankly, they will ask you to do more now that you've already agreed once."
Also true.
"I understand that privacy is important to you but..."
"Yeah, I know, I know... you're right," you said, wiping tears away from under your eyes, thinking back to the tweets you had just read, "After the video went out I was expecting so much worse but nothing happened, I might need to take a chill pill."
"Maybe..." he said slowly. "And why should-"
"-I care what people on the internet think of me?" you stole the words right out of Lando's mouth, a smile growing on his face. "Charles tells me that every time I don't help with his Twitch streams,"
"Right, you're thinking like a media-trained F1 driver already!" he grinned. "Except, I don't think you're getting enough credit for your racing because you keep that helmet on all the damn time. Just one guy's opinion though,"
You hummed in response, getting lost in your own mind again.
"I won't tell a soul, I promise," He crossed his hand over his heart, "Scouts honor,"
For some reason, you felt you could trust Lando. You gave him a small smile and let your shoulders relax, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. He stood up and offered you his hand, you took it gladly and rose to your feet. "I think you should talk to Christian about it,"
"I will, thanks Lan,"
"No problem," he winked, slowly stepping away, "And for what it's worth I truly meant what I said before. You're amazing, don't let them push you around or tell you otherwise. You gotta pave the way for all the little girls out there."
That shook you to your core. 
You had never thought about your career that way and it bothered you how oblivious you had been.
How could you not realize the impact you could be making for the girls who dream of racing just like you had? Who cared what some old guy on the internet thought about women in motorsport, he needed to grow up. And you needed to make a difference. It was all sliding into place.
Also, since when had Lando been that well-spoken in his life?
After a quick 'See you on track,' you and Lando parted ways towards your respected garages. Pulling your helmet over your face, you stepped out of the alleyway and marched towards the blue and red signs of the Red Bull garage.
Christian gave you a look through your visor as you walked up to the car, you just nodded, he hated it when you were late. You climbed into the car and tried to shake the nerves out of your body, you could see a camera in your peripherals, panning the garage and landing on you. 
Pave the way Y/n.
This newfound purpose gave you anxiety but at the same time a different kind of drive to your craft. You could feel the car hum beneath you, grateful for the all-clear from the team, you exited the garage to start warming up your tires.
"Radio check, you ready for this?"
"Yep. Copy." 
Shit, that sounded forced didn't it? Why were you acting so weird? Be yourself Y/n.
"Ah, not going to humor me today? That's too bad mate," Rick chuckled.
"Don't know why but it smells like barbeque in the car,"
"You've got a problem, change your fucking carrrr,"
"No, you change your car because Checo has been saying the car is fucked-"
This had Ricky howling with laughter over the mic.
"Okay, that's enough lads." Christian stepped in, pulling the plug on you and Rick mocking him.
"Fun police..." Ricky sighed.
"I'm not a fun police, do your job Richard."
"You are a fun police, I have it on record. I hAvE it, I hAve iT pRiNteD oUt!"
"66."
"Sorry." you replied, giggling to yourself and waving back at Lando as you passed.
~<>~<>~<>~<>~
"Damn it!" Charles cursed stomping towards the Ferrari garage. He had just spun out two races in a row and had to, unfortunately, retire from the race.
Walking into the garage he could feel all eyes on him as he stuffed his gloves and balaclava into his helmet angrily. A few engineers and his trainer gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he walked past, but no one dared to interact with Charles while he was this livid.
He needed y/n.
She was who he always needed after a bad race, he walked to his driver's room remembering the spin-out from his previous race hoping that y/n would actually be there this time.
"Where's y/n?"
"I don't know mate, sorry. She disappeared a while ago," an engineer named Fred shrugged.
But of course, as he opened the door she was nowhere to be found once again. Thoughts ran through his mind a hundred miles per minute
Had she always left after he got into the car and never actually watched him race?
Is he not as important to her as she made it seem?
Was she just in this for the money like a few of the girls he had been with before?
No, y/n isn't like that. He told himself, but still, he felt that pang of uncertainty in his chest. It would certainly be the reason why whenever he asked for her opinion on his performance it was almost as if she didn't remember what happened, she would just nod, smile, and agree with whatever he said.
Charles sat down on the couch and shut the door to his room. The TV had the race on and he watched the 19 remaining cars complete lap after lap. 
He couldn't watch this anymore...
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"Ohh! That was a nasty hit from Verstappen from behind- SOMEONE HAS SPUN INTO THE WALL AND IT LOOKS TO BE THE OTHER RED BULL!"
"Oh my, it is! I can tell you right now Crofty, Christian Horner is not going to be pleased about that,"
"The race has just been red-flagged and we are currently awaiting more news on the second Red Bull driver. Here's a replay, there's Max Verstappen in third and his teammate ahead of him in second."
"And Verstappen was told to hold position because both drivers were in the podium places, Max is slightly slower than his teammate with very worn tires, but he pushes them anyway and tries to go for the very forced overtake. And there it is! Now why does he swerve into his teammate?!? This is mind-boggling to me-"
Charles looked up from his phone and back to the television. A bright 66 is painted on the Red Bull that is in pieces on the edge of the track. And as the camera zooms into the smoking race car, the eerie silence in Charles's driver's room makes his chest tighten slightly.
"Oh dear, it seems we have no verbal conformation from the driver so as you can see the medical car has made it's way to the scene."
Charles watches the unconscious driver slowly get pulled from the car and layed on a stretcher right there on the side of the track. They lift the visor of his helmet and shine a light across the driver's face as their eyes flutter awake. Beautiful eyes that Charles had engraved in his brain from the moment he met her.
Tag List: @xxelin @summerslike11 @inlovewith-fictionalcharacters @trashcanrat @gramelda @magicman090909 @femalestarlord @captainbaeameric @cilliansfriend @heyheyheyggg @marvelobssesedperson
@remuslupinsbtch@callsign-scully @spermdonationcenter @ferraribabe @jjsprobablywrong @fayetheenthusiast @tillyt04 @iwouldkillformarvel @leclercsluv @deffonotab @ghosttwit @clechairluvbot @roseamongthorns13 @ravenqueen27
@compositionbook-nonnie @berryhrts @margreetribian @justcallmeelli @spacius @nonosave51 @haus-of-meme-ories @notleclerc @meadhbhcavanagh @steephanie07 @not-epc @talksoprettyjjx @marekmybeloved @elle-451 @vellicora @runway-to-my-aid @wherethefuckisthething
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ameraincandy · 7 months
Text
💗 𝒱𝟣𝓇𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁𝒻𝓇𝒾♡𝓃𝒹❣ ! 💗
Synopsis: What is it like for your favorite characters to have a streamer girlfriend? /⁠ᐠ⁠。⁠ꞈ⁠。⁠ᐟ⁠\
Characters: Modern C.E.O. Yae miko & Rival streamer Scaramouche.
!tw!: NSFW under the cut, mentions of established relationships, special toys, and head. (Ifykyk) mostly wholesome though.
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𝐂.𝐄.𝐎.! 𝐘𝐀𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐎 🌸
Occasionally, Miko didn't have a problem with you being a streamer. In fact, she's the one that suggested it since she knew your potential of being one, some may call it her scouting skills for talent. So with the use of her..."persuasion" , you finally caved in to her with a shaky sigh as you've begun to use one of the many expensive streaming equipment she bought for you. Thanks to miko, you weren't a deadbeat freeloader of a girlfriend to her anymore with the amount of superchats you were receiving! Aside from the fact that most donations came from her though...
NSFW under this!
You let out a quiet whimper as you felt your legs shift uncomfortably against the vibrator that miko had slipped inside you. Per request to a loyal viewer of yours, one of tonight's streams was a gaming stream to a famous horror indie game of their choosing! Despite not favoring horror, you did your best to navigate the game's mechanics... although you missed out on the fact that your girlfriend had that mischievous look in her eyes as soon as you got that donation, tricking you somehow into that punishment of hers...
”T-thank you for the s-super..ah-superchat! Darklord69, yeah! I'll beat this level in no time-ee..time...“
Your voice crooked as you squeezed your legs shut to stop the miniscule of vibrations, praying to god that it won't be obvious to the camera or else you'll be banned for life!
Miko, on the other hand seemed to be enjoying herself as she sat across from behind the monitor, testing the waters by lightly pressing each setting on the remote controlled vibrator....ignoring the way you would shoot panicked glances at her direction, begging...begging for her to stop! Yet to your dismay, Miko would only press a finger to her lips; signaling for you to stay quiet.
”Nnmmp...” But luckily for you, none of your viewers seem to be none the wiser when you took a quick look at the stream's chat box, they probably thought you were just really scared of the game you were playing, not the other absurd fact that you were about to squirt all over the computer screen.
“Fuu-FUCK!~“ you jumped out of your seat with a loud cuss falling head first under your desk after a jump scare was shown, then chat was flooded with several “R.I.P.“'s, “LMAO“'s and ”IS SHE OKAY??"'s messages.
The stream soon ended abruptly after that fiasco. While your girlfriend approached your fucked-dumb state with a grin.
“Enjoyed yourself little one?~ You sure did put on quite a show...“
Miko teased as she knelt down to quiet your pants with a feverish kiss that caused you to let out a guttural moan, her free hand pulled the vibrator outside as white liquid oozes out of your legs..♡
𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋-𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑! 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 👾
Before you were a well-known streamer, you were a surprise occurrence in Scaramouche's streams at random given times, riling up his viewers as you were known as that mysterious girlfriend of his, adding more to their curiosity by not showing your face and entice them with only the lower half of yourself.
Off-screen however, you would jokingly tease Scaramouche with remarks such as; “The viewer count seems to rise whenever I appear on screen you know?“ chuckling as you show him the cockiest smirk known to man, enabling Scaramouche to give you a sarcastic laugh.
“You brat, who do you think you're talking to huh?“
When he said those words to you, your brain (and cunt) automatically knew that you were in deep shit from the way his fingertips found it's place under your chin, all to just sink his nails in the flesh juust a bit...tilting your head upwards to reveal a condescending smirk.
“Why don't you try being a streamer hm?“
Yet, to Scaramouche's disappointment, your debut as a streamer fared far better than he expected; not soon after your viewer count was rising in numbers, not to mention that bastardly amount of simps that contributed to your boyfriend's dismay. As if karma was going to bite him in the ass, some of your viewers raided his streams chat box with links to your stream instead. Since then, there has been a running joke that you two are each other's mortal enemies.
Don't get him wrong however, despite the petty rivalry you two show on streams together... Scaramouche doesn't hate that you're a streamer. Your boyfriend just dislikes those types of scummy eyes watching his girlfriend's content with obvious unhinged thirst. So he found a way to fix that.
NSFW under this!
Scaramouche didn't know what kind of sick fuck he was with the way he was reeling in the sight of you completely wasted after he spent hours throatfucking you, brashly wiping away the tears that swelled in your eyes from after you attempted to push his shaft down inhumanely deeper than it already was. You can tell that he was about to cum for the 5th time that night with his thrusts getting sloppier and his pace having seemed to vanish.
“H-hah! I've always known you were a whore... honestly I- oooh god..!” Scaramouche gritted his teeth after you unexpectedly flattened your tongue on the tip of his cock, deliciously drenching it in your saliva just as he likes it~
The back of your throat slaps against his cock that elicited a groan to vibrate around him that added a lot more to his pleasure; just before he could spill his seed, he clumsily slipped out in time and forced your mouth open with his fingers, letting out a breathless laugh as Scaramouche coats your pretty face in his cum.
“Ffuuuck...that was amazing haahh..“ Scaramouche lovingly cupped your cheek as he places the stray hair behind your head while catching his breath, he could feel his dick growing hard again by just admiring his bratty girlfriend all over his control, picking you up in his arms to rapidly throw you on the mattress all the while scattering kisses between your thighs as a rushed apology from how much he was going to ruin you tonight. Although what Scaramouche wanted to confess was actually a protest to you continuing streaming...why need hundreds of eyes adoring you when he has been doing so all this time and better? (Not-so-Regretfully) It has been muffled from the amount of orgasms you two had that night, it was probably for the best anyways.
Since you didn't even notice that blinking red light on your monitor the entire time.
-♡
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chrisredfield73 · 7 months
Note
Could you do a reader who accidentally tells the tf2 mercs they're gay/queer in sexuality? With some angst from the reader because they're worried it'll affect how the mercs see them. And depending on the merc, some comfort?
This is a bit self-indulgent as I am a girl who likes girls, but it can be written for anyone
The reader is meant to be a teen so it's strictly platonic!
A/N: As a gay trans guy, I understand the angst and fear! Thank you for requesting!!
For Spy's part-
Mon chou means 'my cabbage' (weird term of endearment for kids but it's really sweet)
--------------------------------------------------------------
You let it slip, accidentally, but it immediately made you panic. You mentioned liking the same gender as you. The fear of not being accepted hit you like a tidal wave, as you stare wide eyed at the merc in front of you..
Scout:
He's surprised, to say the least.
He definitely makes a snarky and sarcastic joke, but he quickly shuts up when he notices your fear.
"Hey now.. Don't get all nervous on me."
He's pretty supportive overall, giving you some reassuring comments and a pat on the back.
"Listen.. I don't know how all the other guys would react, but I'm okay with it. Don't worry, I won't say anything."
He may make some hints about it to the others, but he doesn't go too far.
He also definitely would help you find a s/o and he would beg to hear who you like.
Soldier:
Now for this big himbo, it's a 50/50.
He either doesn't hear or get what you've said, or he heard it and he's judging you.
"What was that, maggot?"
If he didn't hear you or understand you, you could definitely play it off as a joke. He'd probably laugh it off with you, not even noticing how nervous you are.
If he heard you and is now judging you, he's staring at you through narrowed eyes. "You're queer?"
He's definitely not supportive... At first. You could probably, eventually, get him to come around and be supportive.
He has that mentality of, "I was raised thinking it was wrong so it's wrong."
Pyro:
When he heard you say that, it's completely obvious he supports you.
He gives you a thumbs up and a hug for reassurance.
"Mff mff mm mmff."
You're not sure what he just said, but you can tell it was something supportive by how he just acted.
He helps make sure you're comfortable, even giving you gifts that are discreet pride flag colors.
If any of the other guys catch wind about it, you can bet that Pyro will be there to stand up for you.
Demoman:
Another one of the guys that's 50/50 about it.
If he's drunk, he's either not going to act supportive, when he actually is, or he's not going to be paying attention to anything you just said. "What..?"
In the rare occasion that he's not drunk, he's very supportive and will give you a hug.
"Ey there, lass/lad, no need to worry. It's alright with me."
He is one of the supportive ones, despite being an idiot when he's drunk. He's proud of you for being yourself, even if you're not out to everyone.
Heavy:
He's shocked, looking over at you with wide eyes.
He doesn't say anything for a moment, before noticing your anxiousness.
He's not super supportive, but he's not going to judge you about your preferences.
"Heavy is not mad. Heavy is happy you're happy."
He gives you a pat and maybe even rubs your back, trying to help you feel better.
He won't tell anyone about it, he's the second best secret keeper on the team.
"Heavy won't tell anyone, Heavy pretends he never heard it."
Engineer:
He's caught off-guard, but he's supportive 100%.
"Oh? I never would've thought..."
He gives you a reassuring smile and hugs you gently.
"Don't worry, kid. I won't tell nobody. You have my word."
He's the first best secret keeper, and he's basically the supportive dad of the team.
He'll, much like Pyro, also get you discreet pride gifts to show he supports you and to make you feel better.
All in all, Engineer is the best to share things with, he's a calm and gentle soul who just wants to see you happy.
Medic:
He had his suspicions, he suspects a lot of things about a lot of people.
"Oh? You like women/men?"
He's pretty supportive, but he's not a very touchy person. He'd prefer to not have a ton of physical contact.
He gives you a quick rub on the back before pulling away.
"I'm not going to judge you, there are things far worse than not being straight."
He's not the best for comfort but he is, at least, mostly supportive.
Sniper:
He stops what he's doing and turns to look at you, his expression and emotion unreadable.
"You... You're what now?"
He notices you panicking and steps over to you, offering you a small smile.
He gently ruffles your hair and chuckles, "Easy now, roo. Calm down. I'm not judgin' ya, I'm just confused."
He's okay with you elaborating on your sexuality, and he's okay with you not talking about it anymore.
He's also good at not telling anyone about your sexuality, he prefers to keep to himself anyway.
Spy:
He let's out a low hum, raising a brow. He definitely didn't expect that.
"...Hmm?"
He's polite, not teasing you or making fun of you.
He doesn't really understand but he's not going to go out of his way to judge you or make fun of you.
"Don't worry, mon chou. I'm not going to judge you."
He sets down his cigarette in his ashtray and pulls you in for a hug.
He's one that doesn't like physical affection very much, but seeing you in slight distress makes him want to comfort you.
He almost thinks of you like his child, and he just wants to see you happy.
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okay im sorry but just imagine being kageyama tobio. your parents are always working late, your sister quit volleyball years ago and now she's off being an adult and having a career, none of your teammates get why you care so much and the only guy who did, because he cared the same amount in the same way, graduated 2 years ago and also hated your guts. your peers have given you a cruel nickname just so they can reinforce how little they like or understand you, you dont have any friends, you have nothing but volleyball actually, your grandfather is dead and you are clinging to the promise he made you when you were a little kid because if you dont you might just go insane. you are so, so incredibly lonely.
and then, THEN, this scrawny 5 foot nothing kid stares you down outside the gymnasium bathrooms and promises to beat you, and he totally sucks at volleyball. like, he. is. terrible. but he can run, and he has good reflexes, he jumps so high he looks like he's flying, and most importantly he runs headfirst into a wall and then says 'we haven't lost yet' like its the most obvious thing in the world when his teammates ask him why he bothered. and you realise this kid is just like you, the same kind of fucked in the head you are. and youre furious, what the hell has this guy been doing for the past 3 years? your grandfather promised you that someone even better would come and find you are here he is, but you beat his team in less than an hour and you're pretty sure you'll never see him again, despite him promising to take you down, because never once in your life has anyone who was supposed to stick around actually do that. you're angry because you didn't have to be so painfully lonely all these years, you could've had someone who kept up with you, but he just wasn't there, because he sucks and you don't but he doesn't have to and that makes it so much worse than you just being a freak who was completely one of a kind.
and then you go back to your team, back to your last middle school tournament, and you play more games. only this time youre pissed. you know that there's someone else like you now, someone who will. not. stop until the ball has hit the floor and you don't get why your teammates won't just be better, try harder, move faster. and then they abandon you too. you thought you were alone before, but now you have absolutely nothing, not even volleyball. and you didn't get into the school your grandfather went to, and the coach you picked your back-up school for is in the hospital, and your plan for the next 3 years is to essentially bide your time until you get scouted into the v-league because you literally do not have anything left and you are doing everything your 15 years old and incredibly depressed self can because you refuse to let go of volleyball, no matter how lonely it makes you, no matter how much it hurts to cling on.
and then, AND THEN. that same scrawny dumbass from that 2-0 match in middle school is there and he still sucks and he's still the same kind of fucked in the head that you are and you won't give him one of your 'royal sets', not after what happened last time, you can't stop being lonely but you can at least try to not get abandoned again. and he says 'forget all that, i'll be here no matter what', and he spikes the damn set. he shuts his freaking eyes and he trusts you and you have just had the rug pulled out from underneath your damn feet because you understand, maybe better than anyone else, being ready to do whatever it takes to win but who the hell just fully puts their faith in someone else like that and maybe, just maybe, this kid was serious when he swore he'd get better and take you down.
he's invincible as long as youre there and so are you as long as you have him. you ask him if he's prepared to go all the way to the world stage to take you on, because you've never set your sights anywhere else, and he tells you he'll match you every step of the way. he picks up your crown, puts it right back on your head and proves to you that he refuses to leave you just like everyone else did, even at your worst. you tossed and he spiked and he said 'i'm here' and he is.
he is, and he never stops being here for you, chasing after you, making you chase after him, even when he's on the other damn side of the planet. and then 6 whole years after you first met him, first played him, first thought that maybe your grandfather would keep his promise to you, you get to play him again and you realise that he is your someone even better, always has been. actually, they all are. and you're not that lonely tyrant you used to be anymore, youre not that sad, abandoned kid hiding behind anger and obsession, you're doing the thing you love surrounded by people who love it in the same fucked in the head way that he and you do, and the man you love is there across the net from you, playing against you, and he's also there on the court next to you, playing with you, and either way he is here.
you got really, really good at volleyball, and somebody even better came and found you.
he's here.
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cera-writes · 20 days
Note
Nightcrawler with an SO who can split herself into different emotions with each emotion having a different power. Maybe the emotions are running rampant and causing mischief and Kurt is the only person who can wrangle them in.
Emotional Rampage
A/N: this was a cute request! Sorry it took me a while to get it written for you <3
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x reader
Tags: reader-insert, fluff, angst, emotional turmoil, inner demons, pet names, established relationship, endearments
Tumblr media
Nightcrawler materialized in a kitchen bathed in the dimly dark sheen of Fear's shadow manipulation. Dishes clattered as Sullen slammed a cabinet door shut. Overhead, Joy buzzed like a rogue wasp, leaving a sonic trail.
This was Tuesday.
"Alright, alright," Kurt held his hands up, teleporting a plate out of Sullen's path. "Let's calm down, everyone. Was ist los?
Fear flickered, casting distorted shadows of Kurt's normally cheerful grin. "Something's wrong, Kurt. I don't like it."
Joy, a blur of pink energy, zipped around the room. "But we don't know what it is! That's the problem!"
Sullen, radiating a low rumble of disapproval, crossed their arms. "We need to find it. Now."
Kurt sighed. "Ich verstehe, but causing a scene won't help. Tell me what's bothering you."
Silence. Fear dimmed, then flickered again. "It's… a feeling. Something dark approaching."
Joy buzzed impatiently. "Exactly! But without knowing what 'it' is, we can't stop it!"
Kurt, ever the mediator, took a deep breath. "Alright. How about this? We work together. Fear, show me what you sense. Joy, scout ahead with your speed. Und Sullen, if we need to throw down, you've got my back, right?"
Hesitation, then a grudging nod from each fragment. Fear pulsed, sending tendrils of shadow that snaked out the window, pointing towards the city's abandoned amusement park. Joy zipped out with a whoosh, leaving a faint pink afterimage. And Sullen, with a grunt, followed Kurt as he bamfed them out of the chaos.
Standing on the creaky Ferris wheel platform, fear tingled on Kurt's skin. Fear's shadows pointed towards a dark, swirling vortex at the center of the park. It pulsed with a malevolent energy.
Joy reported back, a worried frown etched on their normally carefree face. "Kurt, it's like… a negative-me. It feeds on fear."
Suddenly, a shadowy figure materialized, a twisted reflection of Kurt, complete with pointed ears and a barbed tail. "Ah, Nightcrawler. And your precious little emotions. This will be fun."
A fight ensued. Sullen's strength met the dark doppelganger's blows head-on. Joy zipped around, creating sonic disruptions that momentarily weakened the creature. But it was Kurt, teleporting in surprise attacks while Fear channeled courage into him, who finally managed to land a decisive bamf, sending the negative entity back into the vortex.
With the threat neutralized, the fragments drifted back towards you, their forms merging. You sighed, exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin. "Thanks, guys," you whispered, a soft smile gracing your lips.
Kurt pulled you close. "Anytime, Liebchen. Though, maybe next time we could save the demolition for the bad guys?"
A tired giggle escaped you. "Promise." Leaning into his warmth, you watched the city lights twinkle back to life.
Later, curled up on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa, Kurt hesitantly brought up your emotional outburst. "Liebling," he began, his voice laced with concern, "ist alles in Ordnung? These episodes seem to be happening more often."
You snuggled closer, appreciating the gentle way he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. "I don't know, Kurt. It's like… a tangled mess in here sometimes. All these emotions, and I can't always control them."
Kurt squeezed your hand. "But that's what I love about you, Schatz. You wear your heart on your sleeve, in all its beautiful, chaotic glory. And I'll always be here to help you sort through the mess, together."
His words, laced with his endearing native tongue, warmed you more than the cocoa ever could. You realized that even the most complex emotions couldn't dampen the love you shared, a love that thrived on understanding and a whole lot of patience. With a contented sigh, you leaned your head on his shoulder, the tramclings of the evening forgotten. In Kurt's arms, you knew you had a safe haven, a sanctuary where even your most turbulent emotions could find peace.
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ikkosu · 2 months
Note
um umm. imagine giving prowl a hello/good morning kiss but hes not fully awake or his mind is somewhere else so later in the day he goes into some kind of meeting with a lipstick stain on his face.. when he finally realizes he hunts u down to Glare at you and demands you clean it bc its your fault (he just wants an excuse for physical contact oops side note thank u for feeding us all with all ur lovely work. 5 stars
🥺 aww thank you anon. that's so sweet of you pookie. glad you're enjoying my writings!! gobbles up the five star from the palm of your hand
Okay but that's is such a cuteee scenario oh my gosh I can't help but to write a little mini-fic this (a little incoherent I just woke up snskkdkj)
—PROWL'S snuggled up to your side. Even when he's sleeping, a gentle scowl is present on his face. And, the arm curled around your torso is almost like a metal bar, preventing you escape. For now, he's too tired to keep up appearances. Last night's report consisted of him re-writing the expense protocols and it is not a task an hour would suffice.
He came back sluggish and very much irritated. In the darkness of the room, alighted by the mere blue-ish flare of the moonlight, Prowl stands before your bed as a looming shadow. You recalled wheezing when he simply collapsed on top of you, immediately going limp after.
So, when you shift in the bed — it was almost time for work — he was all but annoyed : his bundle of warmth isn't going anywhere when he's got so comfortably snug, so he pits you close to his chassis, grumbling.
"No."
"No? Prowl. I've got work."
"It can wait." He murmered lazily, nose chasing for the warmth between the crook of your neck and shoulder. And, when he did — a little purr-like rumble thrummed from his chassis.
You blink. He's slurring in his sleep? Guess, even the strategic officer isn't immune to sleepy mumbles. With a playful smile, you cup his face plates, leaning in to kiss his cheek, lingering a little bit on the sensitive spot on his neck then the crook of his nose.
Subconsciously, Prowl leans forward, likely expecting a kiss on his lips but with an index on his forehead, you push him away gently.The peach cream lipstick stains the areas you've assaulted. But, hey. At least he knows who's stalling who, this lovely morning.
WHILE he's fixing up the last of his documents, Prowl can feel the stares churning through his back. He's got it ever since he walked into that damn room. Obviously, nobody is going to agree with the new 'protocols' he administered. Especially, the younger mechs. But the meeting had just finished, so what's with the staring? Why are they staring?
"Uh, Prowl?"
"What?" He clips and slams the briefcase shut.
When he whirled around, a biting chassis fervent on his tongue, he's greeted with the sight of the bug, smiling in amusement. Great. The scout.
"I don't know what game you're playing at And, likely, i'd rather not know." Prowl seethes. "But I suggest you cut it out."
As usual, he's not the most brightest mech, this morning.
"Alright, then." He shrugs with his servos up placatingly. "But I gotta say, though. Peach does suit you well. Always thought it'd be rouge red or magenta pink. Guess, I was wrong."
"Excuse me?"
"Not that it's bad. It's not bad, trust me." The scout grins. " I just didn't peg you as the type to wear make-up...."
"And, the generator?"
"Ah, yes. That." You scanned the clipboard, nitpicking the many stacks and stacks of paragraphs for a certain information. This, that, this and — "All stabilized, sir."
"Good work." He pats your shoulder. "Debrief in a few hours — I need the new recruits some time to understand the proceedings. Meanwhile, go have lunch. I won't keep you any longer."
"Understood."
With that your Supervisor had left. Dawdling a second longer flipping through the pages, you swivelled around. When you rounded the corner, still buried in your clipboard —
You feel cold metal curling round your wrists. And, you're suddenly pushed up against the wall.
"You." Prowl leans in, scowling.
You grin. "Oh? Good morning to you, too." .
"Clean it."
"Just a simple swipe of a napkin could do the job, prowl."
The grip on your wrist loosens and a servo clamps over your waist. His expressing, though, isn't unrelenting of a frown. "That's the thing, mouse — you inflicted this on me. So, you take care of it."
You raise a brow. "Sure, this isn't some kind of demand guised in the form of something else?"
Prowl doesn't say anything, expression all the more pinched and irritated — but the slight parting of his lips was telling.
You teetered on your tiptoes, hands on his shoulder plates and leaned up to kiss his cheek — the exact same spot you left a mark, this morning.
Prowl loosens visibly and turned away to hide the flare of warmth on his faceplates. Not without grumbling under his breath, of course.
If he wasn't so handsome when he's mad, you're not sure why you tolerate his crass attitude at all. If anything, he's like a cat that claws at you with every chance he gets — then begging for affection, later.
"If you wanted another kiss, you could've asked."
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phoebepheebsphibs · 2 months
Text
Double-Mutated Mikey
Chapter 8: Recollections
Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club
Prev || Next
Raph sits down on his bed, grabbing a stuffed bear and rubbing his thumb over its worn-down stomach.
The room is dim, but not dark. The main light is off, but the hanging lanterns he has strung along the wall give a warm red glow to the room.
Ever since his krangification, Raph's eye has been a bit sensitive. It waters easily, stings on occasion, and bright lights irritate him. He's started wearing sunglasses outside more often, even on cloudy days. Donnie offered to make an artificial eye to help, but Raph said no. He'd rather keep the eye, even with its attitude and quirks.
"I'm not ready to be a cyborg just yet," he'd joked.
He thought that much of a change would be too big for him, after all the changes he and his family have already gone through.
Now a mechanical eye doesn't sound so crazy or scary.
Raph hugs his teddy bear. It squeaks in his arms. He thinks of how similar it felt to holding Mikey before he got mutated...
He grimaces, scrunching his face up tight and pressing his hands against his head, trying to force the thoughts away.
Mikey is still Mikey! Just with a few new... he won't call them upgrades. Changes. Nothing that can't be reversed, of course.
But... what if they can't be?
Raph presses his hands even tighter against his head.
Stop it. Shut up. Shut up!!
He doesn't want to think about this. He doesn't want to think about Mikey. Not in this way.
He feels like he's betraying him somehow, thinking of him as a monster or a wild animal rather than a brother. But then, he feels like he won't be able to help him if he keeps thinking of Mikey as he was before, and not accepting that he is changed now. But then, he won't stay changed. But then...
"SHUT UP!" Raph yells to himself, slamming his fists against the bed frame.
His ninpo activates, giant red fists breaking the bed slightly and causing the edge of it to slip under his weight and crash against the floor. Raph yipes in alarm, looking down at the mess he's made.
"...Nice going, Raph," he grumbles, grabbing some boxes of dumbells from the corner of his room to prop up the extension on his bed.
He sighs, sitting down on the edge of the mattress again, head in his hands.
He tries to stay strong. He tries not to break down. His family doesn’t need that right now, they don't need a basket case or a worry-wart or whatever else they might call him. They need Raph, strong and brave and ready to take on the world.
But he needs Mikey... he needs his baby brother back, safe, sound, whole. Not broken, not bloody, not feral and confused. He wants Mikey home again. Home in his own body.
Raph starts crying. Although he's disappointed in himself for it, he is glad that he can finally get the tears out. He presses his face into his stuffed animals, trying to get it all out all at once.
Raph hates himself so much right now...
Because...
Because it is all his fault...
.
.
.
"...But I don't see WHY we have to wait!" Raph gripes, Mikey sitting beside him, drawing random doodles on his arm wraps while he listens to the rant. "If we know that the place is doing villain stuff, shouldn't we go in to stop em?"
"I mean, Leo's decision does make a little sense," Mikey counters, taking a big yellow marker out and drawing a smiling sun on Raph's arm. "It's a pretty big building, dude."
"I'm not saying we storm the castle," he responds, waving his arms in exasperation.
Mikey scolds him and brings his arm back down to continue his work.
"I'm just saying that we could scope out the place instead of ignoring it completely!"
"We're not ignoring it," Mikey corrects. "Donnie is gonna run surveillance on it. Leo's gonna have Cass and the girl scouts check it out. Besides, when did you become the go-getter? I thought you and your Raph-chasm would have preferred taking it slow and safe!"
"Raph-chasm?!" he sputters. "Is Leo spreading that slander around?"
Mikey giggles.
"You do know we've been calling it that for years, right?"
Raph growls angrily.
"Dang it, Leo..."
Mikey giggles again.
"But for real, Raph... why are you so antsy?"
"I don't know... just a gut feeling. There's been reports of all kinds of crazy stuff since the invasion, and most of it has something to do with that new organization Donnie and April told us about..."
"What did they call it again? ESP?"
"EPF," Raphael corrects. "Earth Protection Force, or some junk. But the building they're occupying is labeled Techno Cosmic Research Institute, or some junk."
"Doesn't sound so bad," Mikey hums, taking out a blue marker and drawing a mini version of Leo on Raph. "Sounds like a radio shack from the 90's or something!"
"Maybe, but it bothers me that this new weird mystery organization is everywhere." Raph shudders. "It's unsettling. What if they find us?"
"Find us...?" Mikey turns his head up. "What do you think they'd do?"
"I don't know. But I don't trust em. Something about it all just... bugs me."
Mikey is quiet for a second. He places the cap on his marker. He's managed to draw everyone in the family but himself.
"Well, if it bugs you, then... let's go check em out!"
"Wait, huh?"
"You're gut says they're untrustworthy? Then that's enough for me!" he says, jumping up from his spot. "Let's go see how bad they are."
"But... Leo said..."
"Weren't you the one just complaining about how you didn't think we should stand still and do nothing?" Mikey challenges.
"I know. But Leo is the leader, and I want to show him that I trust him."
"We do!" Mikey exclaims. "We're not storming a castle, we're checking out the scene. Leo wants to wait until we can get some actual intel? Then let's help him along! Let's grab a few listening devices or something and place them along the windows."
"Well... that would help... but we leave at the first sign of trouble, okay?"
"Absolutely!" Mikey salutes. "Now, am I breaking into Donnie's labs to get the spy stuff or are you?"
Raph chuckles as he stands, cracking his knuckles.
"You get the spy equipment, I'll get the weapons. Meet you at the tank."
The two give quick nods before heading off in separate directions.
Raph rushes to the training room and grabs the weapons. It is only then that he sees Mikey's doodles.
Oh, he should change his wraps. He doesn't have time to clean them off, and besides, he knows Mikey prefers to take pictures of all his doodles before getting rid of them.
Raph quickly grabs his sai and Mikey's nunchucks before heading to his room, grabbing a spare roll of black bandages, and carefully but speedily removing the one on his right arm. He just needs to replace the one arm, Mikey hasn't gotten to decorating the left yet. Maybe when they get back he can finish it...
He races back to the tunnel, seeing Mikey leaning against the ginormous tire of the turtle tank as he waits.
"There you are! Ready to go?"
"Sure thing. Do you wanna try driving tonight?"
"Can I?" Mikey asks with excitement.
"Sure, why not? You need the practice."
Mikey squeals with delight as he climbs in, Raph following suit.
The two drive away, making plans while Raph gives Mikey impromptu driving lessons. They joke, they laugh, Raph clings to his seat when Mikey's turns come in too sharply.
"Park over there," Raph says, pointing to an alley closeby to the targeted building.
Mikey nods with an "aye-aye, cap'n!" as he makes another sharp turn and hides the tank in the alley, activating a cloaking device Donnie came up with recently.
"Okay, got the listening doohickeys?"
"Right here!" Mikey says, reaching out and producing several small, round baubles with purple centers.
"Alright, so all we're gonna do is ninja up there, ninja a few of these around the perimeter, and then ninja out."
"That sounds just like the time future Leo saved a war camp!" Mikey giggles. "Or whatever Casey Jr. said."
"Uh, okay?" Raph offers. "I'll pretend like I understood that."
The two exit the vehicle and slink around the block, coming up on the building.
It looks like a normal building. No more than 13 stories, small windows with frosted glass, a rotating door that leads to a small lobby, a few security guards and an intern behind a desk. Above the door is the acronym TCRI, bright and silver surrounded by white LED lights. There's graffiti on the side of the wall, with what looks like an artist's rendition of the 'New York Heroes'. Mikey takes a quick selfie with it before getting back to the unsanctioned mission.
"You take the left side, I'll take the right," Raph whispers. "We don't have a lot of listening gadgets, so use 'em sparingly. Got it?"
"Got it!" Mikey whispers back.
He takes his chucks out and swings them up. A long glowing chain activates, and Mikey starts to scale the wall, swinging to the opposite side.
Raph starts pressing the small devices to the wall, doing two for each floor. Once the gadgets stick to the bricks, the purple centers start to blink.
After about five minutes, Raph's phone buzzes. He pulls it out to see that he's getting a call from Donnie.
Uh-oh.
He declines the call.
He presses two more devices to the wall before Donnie calls him again. Raph groans and pulls the phone out, answering it.
"Hello?"
"Oh, Raphala, where are you?" Donnie asks. His tone sounds cheerful and fake. He can tell he's seething.
"Um, nowhere..."
"Nowhere? Really? Then, would you care to explain to me why I am getting bombarded with notifications about my spy tech being activated? And why when I checked the garage, the tank was gone? And why I cannot find you, nor Mikey, nor your gear anywhere within the lair??"
"Um... bad connection?" Raph tries.
"What are you doing."
"Nuthin'," Raph says, his voice squeaking. He clears his throat and tries again. "Just, y'know... ninja stuff."
"I can clearly see your location, Raph."
"Shoot, I forgot about that," he hisses. "I mean, uh..."
"Is that Raph?" Leo's voice comes into the call.
"Oh no," he groans.
"Let me talk to him."
"You had your chance," Donnie speaks into the phone, before handing it over to Leo.
"Raph. Where are you. What are you and Mikey doing with the listening devices."
"Okay, well, we were thinking," he starts, moving away from the alley for a moment as he talks with Leo on the phone. "We were thinking that maaayyybeee it would be a good idea to get some surveillance on the TCRI place before our next big mission, and so --"
"And so you ignore the fact that I said to wait?!" Leo yells angrily. "Raph, we TALKED about this! I thought you said you were gonna let me be leader without pulling these kinds of stunts behind my back!"
"I'm not pulling any stunt! All we're doing is setting up the devices, then leaving! We just wanted to try and see if we could get any intel on them to help! We're not stupid enough to just go in and mess around, ya know!"
"Where's Mikey?" Leo asks exasperatedly. "He isn't answering his phone."
Raph turned back to look at the building he's walked away from. He looks up, and can see Mikey standing on the roof, looking around.
"He's on the roof," Raph sighs. "I'll go and get him."
Raph puts Leo on hold as he runs back to the building. Once in the alley, he starts jumping between walls, doing impressive parkour as he bounces back and forth and flips off of fire escapes until he's at the roof.
But Mikey isn't there.
Raph walks to the other side of the roof and looks over the edge.
Mikey isn't on the ground.
He notices a vent panel has been jimmied open.
"Oh no."
Raph grabs his phone.
"Um, Leo? I think he went in..."
"WHAT?!" Leo screams at him, causing Raph to pull his phone away from his ear.
"Why would he go in?!"
"I don't know!" Raph whimpers. "I told him we were only doing the exterior--"
"You shouldn't be there at all!"
"Should I go in after him?"
"No, don't -- wait for a minute, call him, maybe he'll answer you."
"Okay, yeah, I'll do that," he says, trying not to panic. "Call you back soon."
Raph hangs up and quickly dials Mikey.
It rings once before he answers.
"Shello?" he whispers.
"Mikey? Where are ya?!" Raph hisses at him. "I thought we said no inside stuff!"
"I saw a weird van pull up," he explains. "They took a krangified person in through the back."
"They what?"
"Yeah, I know. I wanted to see what they were gonna do with him."
"Mikey, I think you should get outta there," Raph whimpers.
"I will in just a sec, I think I found the room where... huh..."
Mikey's voice trails off.
"Mikey? Mikey, what is it?"
"I'm not sure... hold on a sec, 'kay?" Mikey whispers, his voice soft and secretive.
"Mikey, get out of there, now!" Raph scolds.
Mikey doesn’t respond.
Raph waits for him to say something. Anything. He hears Mikey gasp quietly.
"Ohmigosh," he whimpers. His voice is weak and his breathing fast. "Okay, that's enough for me, I'm coming out now!"
"Mikey?! What did you see, what's going on?"
He hears a clattering sound, a stifled gasp, muffled shouting.
"I dropped my phone," Mikey whimpers in fear. "I think they heard me."
"GET OUT NOW!" Raph yells. He dials Leo, adding him to the call.
"Raph? What's going --"
"Mikey's been made," Raph says in a panic.
"Get out of there, now!"
"Leo?" Mikey whispers nervously. "Is that you?"
"Mikey, we're on our way now, just get out as fast as you can! Don't worry about whether or not you're seen, just get out!"
"I'm trying!" Mikey cries nervously. "I'm stuck in the vents!!"
Raph hears a loud clang, followed by Mikey's screams and a thud.
"There he is!"
"Get him!"
"Come'ere, kid!"
Mikey yells in protest, terrified screams as he shouts at them to 'let me go, stop, leave me alone!'
Raph yells out into the phone. He's not sure what he yells, only that he wants Mikey back. He hears Leo yelling, too.
"Raph! Leo!" Mikey screams.
"MIKEY!!" the two yell back in unison.
The line goes dead.
A blue light ignites besides Raph, and Leo jumps through immediately, gasping for air as he stares down at Raph, who is on his hands and knees, holding the phone like it was Mikey's only lifeline.
"Where is he?" Leo pants. "Where is Mikey?"
Raph can't do anything but shake.
Mikey got captured... Because of him...
.
.
.
Raph lifts his face from the army of plushies he has been confiding in.
He takes in a deep breath.
He stands, going to a drawer and pulling out the wraps from that day. Almost a week ago.
The drawings are still there. The sketches and doodles are all intact. The image of a family is there, with each member colour-coded. Red, Blue, Purple... but it's missing their Orange brother. He never did get to finish that portrait.
Raphael leaves his train car and walks over to Mikey's. The door is wide open.
Inside, he sees Leo, slumped over on a beanbag chair and snoring softly, his mouth fallen open.
He hadn't said anything about sleeping in here.
He must've wanted to check on Mikey, too...
Raph grabs of one the extra blankets and pillows and adjusts his brother so that he can sleep more comfortably.
He takes residence in another beanbag chair opposite him.
Once settled, Raphael watches Mikey, who is sleeping peacefully and undisturbed, his tail swinging from side to side and his claws twitching on occasion.
Raph sighs.
Tears silently streak down his face as he cries himself to sleep.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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Eddie, your boyfriend, and you discussing having a threesome at some point. And then he offers you a threesome with Chrissy. You get confused like does Eddie wanna sleep with Chrissy? I just thought they were friends? But then he explains babe, Chrissy wants to sleep with YOU. She, like, is always telling him how pretty you are
You were only eager to explore the idea of a threesome with Eddie until he had a name already locked and loaded for your third party. You thought you'd scout a bar together, or rope one of your friends' friends into a one-time test that would determine whether 'the more the merrier' applied to sex. But when Eddie responds to your initial proposal with a quick nod, and a, 'Chrissy?' you start rethinking your offer.
"Uh," You flounder, stomach starting to churn, "I guess- maybe? I thought you two were just friends."
"We are," He nods, still absent-minded until his brain catches up with him. Then he's dropping his pen onto the scribbled doodle he'd been sketching, looking up at you with wide eyes pooled with understanding.
"Wait, wait, wait, not like that." He reaches for your hands, and you hear him out with dread still pooling in your stomach.
"We are just friends," He assures you, pretty brown eyes dripping with sincerity behind his long lashes, "But she likes you. She talks about you all the time. At first she was just, like, asking me how you were doing when she saw me and stuff. But then she came to my van to pick something up," He clears his throat, politely leaving the name of whatever drugs she was buying out of your conversation, "-and out of the corner of my eye I saw her slip something into her pocket. I only realized later, when you couldn't find it, that it was your lip gloss that you keep in the cupholder. And when I saw her again she was wearing it, now it's the only thing she wears."
You mull the information over a bit, deep in thought. Then, in a quiet voice, "That doesn't mean she wants to have sex with me, Eddie."
"That's... not all of it." He admits, raising a hand to scratch at his hair, "I tried to be casual about it. I said the stuff she was wearing looked like yours. And she got all red, started talking about how pretty the color was. I was starting to get a little suspicious, but I really couldn't tell if she was after me or you, y'know?"
You nod, and he squeezes your hands tighter.
"Then the next time I sold stuff to her, she asked about you again. I teased her a bit, asked if she just wanted to come over and see you. She heated up again, started smoothing out her skirt and messing with her shirt, asking if I meant 'right now?'. That's when I figured it out."
"I kinda elbowed her, y'know?" Eddie mimics the gesture, rocking his body to one side, "And I said 'Holy shit, you've got a thing for my girlfriend!'.
--
"No!" Chrissy stammers, shaking her head so that her ponytail bounces, "No, Eddie, that's- I would never do that to you!"
I don't blame you," Eddie shrugs, a smug smirk on his face, "I've got a thing for her too."
"I think she's really pretty." Chrissy admits, eyes wide and glued to her feet, "But that's- she's your girlfriend! And I know it's not fair, I- I'm really sorry, Eddie."
"Really," He laughs, knocking his shoulder into hers, "It's fine. I know you won't try anything. Hell, you're so sweet you'd pr'y come crying to me feeling guilty before you'd even made a move. You are not a cheater, I know that."
--
"Thing is," Eddie picks away a smear of nail polish that's stuck in the crease of your finger, "Now that I know, she won't shut up about you. She just talks and talks and talks, all day long, about how pretty she thinks you are, how lucky I am, and I don't really disagree."
"That's.. crazy." You shake your head, not because you're upset, but because you're surprised. You've interacted with the girl before, and she's been almost unbearably sweet, but you hadn't thought anything of it. You'd heard only good things about her, so you just assumed her saccharine demeanor was the default. You have to say, thinking about the starry-eyed girl having a puppy crush on you is making your heart beat just a bit faster.
"Well, all I'm saying is, she's a willing candidate. We'd have to break our 'no kissing' rule, though," Eddie grins, "I think she wants to give back some of that lip gloss she snatched."
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