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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

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Ch. 1

Shigaraki Birthday Week! MINORS DNI DO NOT PUT THIS ON TIKTOK

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is marked fem cause Tomura is a little sexist and hates you cause you’re a woman, no pronouns, incel!shiggy, collage au/no quirks, tomura is an asshole, gratuitous swearing, like so much, shiggy has a dirty mouth, mentions of shigs being anxious, let me know if I’ve missed something

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: Tomura gets stuck taking an English class to graduate and is partnered with you, a bitchy try hard (his words not mine) for his final project. But over the course of the semester he finds that while he hates everyone, he might hate you just a little...less.

AO3 mirror

The door at the back of the room creaked open and jarred Tomura from his half-sleep state. He didn’t look at who’d bothered to slip into this fucking class late, and instead tried to let the prof’s inane droning on Timothy Whoever The Fuck’s 18th weirdo letter book lull him into day dreaming.

He only made it about a quarter of the way back into his boredom induced coma until he was dragged unwillingly into wakefulness once more.

“Sorry, could you plug this in for me?”

Tomura jumped again when you leaned over to whisper to him, computer charger in one hand, gesturing to the outlet on the wall by his head. You’d left the typical courtesy seat empty between the two of you and he stared blankly at the way you leaned your weight on the vacant chair.

He recognized you.

The classic, dumbass teacher's pet who was always front and center of the room, iced drink at the ready looking like you belonged on the set of some god awful college b movie.

Well, almost always. You certainly had that loud ass drink, but you’d tucked yourself at the end of his row towards the back of the room and was clearly a bit embarrassed for bursting in almost 15 minutes late.

Tomura swallowed hard as your shirt gaped in the front. It took an immense amount of control to not gaze outright into the swell of your chest.

“You good?” you asked softly, head cocked like you were straight out of a fucking manga panel—tits on display with that stupid innocent, puzzled expression.

“Uh yeah, sorry,” Tomura mumbled.

You offered him this gross, clearly fake smile—because why the hell would you be grinning like that if it wasn’t just because you wanted something from him—as he threaded the cord behind his chair and plugged it in.

“Thanks,” you replied and turned back towards the professor, typing away cause you actually take notes in this class.

Of fucking course you did.

Probably trying to impress everyone with how you typed practically every word the prof said. Tomura decidedly did not take notes, and didn’t really pay that much attention in general. Usually he just played some trashy phone game under the desk or dozed with his head against the cement wall.

It had gotten to that portion of the semester when it was warmer outside but the buildings still had the heat cranked all the way up, especially here in the basement where the classroom was. That environment along with his usual hoodie/joggers combo created grade A napping conditions that Tomura took full advantage of.

As a rule, he actually cared about school and he did relatively well. But this was just some dumbass liberal arts requirement course that had nothing to do with his actual major, so he was perfectly fine with coasting. Why his comp sci degree required him to take a fucking Restoration era English class, he had no clue. Apparently neither did his advisor other than that the ‘administration recommended it’ so their students would have a ‘well rounded learning experience.’

It was almost certainly just a cash grab to make him take more credits than was necessary to graduate, but whatever. He was here now. And so were you. Your presence was overwhelmingly clear, typing away and smelling like one of those insanely specific laundry detergent label scents—fucking rolling meadows and grandmother’s clean linen or something like that.

He’d never sat this close to you before, but that didn’t stop you from annoying the shit out of him for the previous whole half semester and going since it was just now passing midterms. Long enough for him to have pegged you as a textbook try-hard, pick-me bitch. You contributed to discussion at every opportunity, turned in shit early, and debated other classmates regularly enough to disrupt his in-course sleep schedule.

The way you dressed pissed him off too, with a particular style that was enough to stand out but not so over the top that it would cause disinterest from any potential mates.

And now you were filling his corner of the room with the overpowering smell of freshly washed hair and demanding he do things for you.

Fucking disgusting.

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

He jumped a third time, attention directed from his lap to the front of the room where the prof stood, listing out names from the board. He heard your name next followed by Kai Chisaki. The list was projected on the board as well, grouping everyone into twos or threes with “Final Project Partners” listed in bold Helvetica font at the top.

Only fucking English profs used Helvetica.

He vaguely remembered mentions of a final presentation—one of like three grades in this class cause the prof was almost certainly a sadist.

No, not almost—definitely. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stuck him with you and that weirdo Kai pre-med student who insisted on acting so elitist you’d think he already had his fucking M.D.

One time he asked Tomura to move seats at the start of the semester because he looked “dirty” and Kai liked to sit in the back—which, fair enough, it wasn’t like Tomura showered as frequently as he probably should but what the fuck??

With you rushing in late, chest out and panting every now and again from your apparent sprint across campus, Tomura was certain he’d be subjected to a whole 6 weeks of watching you try to mount that fucking Kai dude instead of actually working.

This was going to be a nightmare.

From the end of the table, he saw you shifting and turned to find that stupid fucking smile flashed his way once again.

If you had a tail, he’d bet it would be wagging.

“Hey, well that’s convenient,” you chuckled and plopped down directly next to him, sliding your noisy ass drink across the table with you and brushing against his thigh when you shifted your bag to the side.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

It most certainly was not.

But Tomura would never say that because—as his roommate put it so kindly—he was kinda a pussy.

People made him nervous, they always had. That’s why he liked computers so much. Code made sense, there were clear rules and when something didn’t work out, he could fix it eventually, but you couldn’t see people’s codes. You had to fucking guess at shit and it made his anxiety skyrocket which the sides of his neck and finger tips suffered for.

So he cowered like the fucking dog you probably thought he was instead and kept his eyes on the floor, letting you set up in silence.

“Who was our third?” you asked, glancing around the room. “Sorry, I was busy making a shared drive and I came in late so I missed that last bit.”

Why the hell did you feel the need to apologize all the goddamn time? Seriously, who would believe you were actually sorry for being irritating as hell.

And god if he thought you were irritating.

“Kai,” he grumbled simply as the man in question sauntered over to the table and fucking Clorox wiped down the seat before sitting.

Tomura watched your smile falter just a bit and grinned inwardly at the slip in your fake little persona. But you didn’t say anything more, just moved your chair back so the three of you were in a semi-circle and pulled up a few pdfs on your laptop.

“Cool, so I was looking over the directions on the syllabus last week and I set up a little work delegation thing so we can distribute everything pretty evenly,” you jumped right in, tone matter of fact in the down-to-business manner he was used to hearing from you during class discussions.

It was better than you so clearly forcing yourself to be overly polite, and he honestly couldn’t really care less if you wanted to take charge of this thing. You seemed kinda bossy, but he begrudgingly admitted that your suck up behavior did mean you sort of knew what you were talking about. He was just here to pass and you might actually make that a lot easier.

It was okay as long as he was taking advantage of you, he told himself. And you would be too stupid to notice, so he could play your game and play pretend nice all the way to an A.

That walking condescension on the other hand—

“I’m not doing that,” Kai huffed through his ever-present mask.

Tomura wasn’t actually sure he’d ever seen the bastards face without it.

“What?” you laughed awkwardly. “Yes you are, you don’t really have much of a choice.”

You stared at your classmate who simply stared right back with his own, equally confused expression.

“Why do you look so surprised?” you asked after a moment of silence.

You weren’t smiling anymore and your voice had dropped down about a fucking octave. At least you sounded more like a person and not some wannabe uwu gamer bitch.

“People don’t talk to me like that,” Kai looked at you down his nose, legs spread wide and elbow resting on his knees.

Tomura could feel the pretentiousness wafting from him in waves, and waited with bated breath for you to get kicked off your pedestal. Just a bit though, he did need you around to do most of his work for this thing.

But in a shocking turn of events, you just laughed dryly twice and turned back to your laptop screen, mumbling as you did.

“Really? Well they should.”

Tomura would have laughed too, but he didn’t feel like inflating your ego. Kai on the other hand looked a bit like you’d just spit on shoes and furrowed those stupid, plucked thin eyebrows at the back of your head.

“So Tomura, you code right?” you asked, turning away from Kai completely to address him. “I just remember you saying you were in comp sci when we did introductions.”

He was taken aback by the knowledge that he existed as a person in your head outside of this room for a moment and simply nodded—suddenly feeling far too hot in his black on black sweats and hoodie.

God just talking to you made his skin burn.

“Great, cause we’re allowed to chose the medium we present in and I was thinking of taking it in a more creative direction cause I’ve had this prof before and he eats that shit up,” you begin to ramble again, scrolling through a bulleted list, shifting the screen for him to see.

“Right,” he murmured, still surprised you’d thought this far and not...actively hating what you’d brainstormed.

Well, it was a bit juvenile and you clearly didn’t know what you were talking about but the concept wasn’t horrendous. He could work with that and it shouldn’t be too hard. It kinda seemed like you’d overestimated a bit with how challenging it would actually be and saddled yourself with most of the heavy lifting. That or you were just a control freak which was a little more believable.

He wished you would stop looking at him over the edge of the screen. He could feel himself starting to sweat. Rivulets falling down the nape of his neck and racing across his bare chest under the sweatshirt. Tomura sorta regretted not wearing a shirt underneath but he knew that he wouldn’t have taken off the insulating layer even if that had been an option.

It would just mean you had more drying, pale as fuck skin to look at and judge him for because he knew that’s what you were doing. Fucking vapid and shallow like everyone else.

“It’s really rough so far, but I have it the gist outlined,” you indicated to another tab and then turned back to Kai who had been sitting silently glaring daggers into your back. “So, Kai, since you’re in STEM I figured you’d be okay with doing more of the preliminary research—”

“I don’t think so,” Kai interrupted, shaking his head and pushing off his knees to lean back in the cheap, plastic seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for all of us if you two just make it look pretty and I can handle the oral presentation.”

You gaped and looked to Tomura with this pathetic fucking incredulous stare, like you thought he’d back you up.

Which actually, now that he thought about it was probably a good idea—he did need you to remain somewhat cordial with him—but he certainly didn’t care enough to defend you in any way. Kai was a dick, sure, but he wasn’t gonna let you rope him into being your white knight or whatever.

He settled for a similarly disgruntled downward twitch of his lips. The movement pulled at the cracking skin which stung as it tore open even more. Tomura felt the familiar crawling feeling on his neck and shifted in his seat to resist the urge to scratch.

He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly you staring at him was so uncomfortable. He didn’t like you, he didn’t care about you and by extension didn’t give two shits what you thought of him, but anything he might have said shriveled on his tongue when you spoke or looked in his eyes too long.

Tomura had never made a habit of talking to females and they certainly had never wanted anything to do with him either.

Maybe he was fucking allergic or something.

Whatever the case, you seemed to take his half frown as a sign of solidarity and leaned back in your own seat.

“Okay, look,” you retorted. “If you’re seriously not gonna at least try to cooperate, then there is actually an option to do the project by yourself and I suggest you take it.”

The look on your face was distinctly impolite. There was a sharpness to the set of your jaw that Tomura had never seen before, but it looked practiced enough that he could bet it was simply the snake that resided in every woman just waiting to come out.

“Look sweetheart—” that masked jerk began, also for some fucking reason looking to Tomura for support.

For someone who was very much used to blending into the background scenery, this was the most eye contact Tomura had ever made in a day.

Except on the rare occasions his roommate had friends over and he had to make the dreaded trek from his room to reach the fridge.

“Oh yeah I’m not doing that,” you closed your laptop sharply and rolled your eyes. “I get it, but I’m really just trying to graduate. I don’t think this is going to work out and you,” Tomura froze as you shifted your gaze to him once again, “seem okay, so Tomura and I can just work this out by ourselves and you can find a different group.”

Kai scoffed behind the black layer of fabric covering his mouth and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Whatever.”

Tomura watched him saunter straight out the door as the room was filled with the shuffling of notebooks and zipping of backpacks.

“God,” you huffed and turned back to him.

His raw skin burned under the new wave of heat and accompanying moisture that slicked his skin when you scooted closer to him. That clean laundry and shampoo smell was suffocating from this proximity.

Did you fucking bathe in the stuff?

He was becoming increasingly aware of his less than pleasant aroma and the fact that you not scrunching your nose up in disgust just out of some stupid, ingrained need to appease him.

“Well, that was...weird,” you chuckled in a way that was probably meant to break the tension.

Unfortunately Tomura felt more like he was about to break out in hives if you came any closer so it really just ended up making the atmosphere ten times more awkward. At least for him. You, somehow, remained resolutely unaware.

“Mhm,” he hummed in response and picked silently at the skin of his fingers.

“Anyway, I have a meeting in a few but we can trade numbers and pick a time to meet up sometime tomorrow maybe?” you suggested, quickly saving the steadily degrading vibes of the conversation and pulled out your phone.

He really hated the full body pulsation that rushed through him at the thought of getting a girls number. It made him fucking sick at himself for falling into your stupid trap to get him interested. Was your plan to just use him to get a good grade or whatever and then block his texts?

It wasn’t like Tomura didn’t know about his status as the class ‘freak.’ That one guy everyone whispers about and makes sure not to sit next to. And he knows you know, so why the hell else would you act so nice?

He wanted to say something scathing in return. That he could do the whole thing by himself too—which he definitely couldn’t but that was irrelevant—and that he didn’t need you bossing him around either.

“Sure thing,” he said instead and took your offered phone all too eagerly, typing in his number and watching as you shot off a text back so he’d have yours.

His phone buzzed against his thigh and he jumped a fourth time, but you seemed not to notice as you packed your bag and grabbed your basic ass drink. The ice clattered against the tumbler, dropping cool condensation against the searing skin of his hand.

Tomura shivered as you waved over your shoulder and slipped out the door with another rush of students.

He sat silently in the empty room for a moment, trying to process the last hour. He pinched himself idly, wondering if it had all been just a weird dream, but the results were inconclusive. A minute or two passed before he pulled out his phone to scroll through the list of reddit and discord notifs to find your text.

Unknown Number:

— pEopLe DoN’t TaLK tO mE liKE ThAt

— not very plus ultra of him...smh

— anyway, library at 6 tomorrow ?

Tomura caved, digging his nails into the side of his neck and hissed at the pain, confirming the day's horrible reality.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #bnha fanfiction #tomura shigaraki imagines #fem!reader #incel!shigaraki #college au #bee.writes

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 279: Here Comes the Airplane

Previously on BnHA: Gigantomachia gathered up the rest of the League and headed off to go help Tomura. Also he is now 80 feet tall. The heroes were all, “whoa this guy is really big, we should probably stop him and maybe even devote an entire chapter or two just to that,” and so they sent three whole people after him, which sadly is pretty much the exact sort of strategy I’ve come to expect from them by this point. Anyway so Mt. Lady tried to hold Machia off but kept getting flung aside, and Kamui Woods tried to catch him but was set on fire by Dabi who is just having way too good of a time setting all of the flammable heroes on fire today, and Midnight tried to put him to sleep but Compress threw a bunch of debris at her and so she fell like 80 feet. The chapter ended with Midnight being all “fuck this” and calling Momo, who ordered the rest of the child soldier squad into action as Machia approached. I’m not really sure what they’re gonna do, but I honestly don’t really care, because it’s Momo, and so, YES.

Today on BnHA: U.A.’s first-year hero students, who apparently had nine hours to prepare their battleground instead of the fifteen seconds we had all assumed, launch a complex multi-staged assault which is actually really fucking impressive because these kids are actually awesome. First they pin Machia down in one of Honenuki’s mud pits, and then they take turns making impassioned attempts to take out the other League members chilling out on Machia’s back. Unfortunately none of these attempts work because of Dabi, who’s working overtime while the rest of the League sits around shooting down each other’s escape plans. Basically a lot of stuff gets set on fire, and then the chapter ends with Mt. Lady pinning Machia to the ground while MINA, YES, MINA, charges at him covered in acid like some sort of video game boss that you need some kind of specific item to defeat. DID YOU KNOW YESTERDAY WAS MINA’S BIRTHDAY YOU GUYS. Anyway so this chapter is basically pandemonium from start to finish, and it’s great. It is a RUMPUS, y'all. A STRAIGHT UP HULLABALOO.

IS IT MOMO LOVIN’ HOURS I THINK IT IS, YOU GUYS. ARE YOU EXCITED. I AM EXCITED

but first, the color page we were promised, in celebration of Six Whole Years Of This Bullshit!!

oh god oh god so much to love so little time

some of the rowdier characters are making MULTIPLE APPEARANCES IN THIS SHITSHOW, including Kaminari who appears to be in a record-setting THREE of these! who exactly was taking all of these pictures, and why are they so obsessed with him. also how many of these are going to be used as evidence in the latest Kami Traitor Theory posts and is it too early for me to get mad about it

“WE INVITED ENDEAVOR AND HAWKS TO OUR ‘BEING FANCY ON THE COLOR PAGE’ PARTY, EVEN THOUGH THEY’RE NOT U.A. STUDENTS OR FACULTY. WE JUST FELT LIKE IT.” listen that is fine, y’all don’t have to explain yourselves to me

Mirko however is not here, I assume because if she was, Horikoshi would have forgotten to draw all the rest of the characters again. she’s too powerful

Midnight is so sexy I don’t even ksdfnkl

ALL MIGHT LOOKING HAPPY GIVES ME THE STRENGTH I NEED TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE REST OF THIS WEEK. YOUR SMILE IS THE MVP

Cementoss’s face is the runner-up MVP and one of the greatest things I’ve seen in my life

half the people here seem to be attempting to flirt with whoever is taking the pictures. I am starting to suspect that the culprit is Momo. change my mind

for some reason I am really shocked to see Endeavor getting his drink on. and he’s literally the only one, too

Bakugou’s half-assed I SAID NO PAPARAZZI skills are no match for Tamaki’s legendary “I WILL LITERALLY DIE IF YOU CAPTURE ME ON FILM” abilities

I literally didn’t notice Deku until like three quarters of the page in. he sure does blend right in there

Tokoyami is approximately 97.3% done and ticking EVER CLOSER to full 100% doneness, and when that happens even I can’t tell you what is going to go down

do I even need to mention how sexy Aizawa’s hair is. apparently I do

SERIOUSLY THOUGH CEMENTOSS’S FACE

anyway, so that was nice! NOW ON TO THE MOMOLOVIN’

and we begin with FIRST YEAR CLASS B HONENUKI “MUDMAN” JUZOU just LAYIN’ SOME TRAPS IN THE WOODS, as one does

oh my freaking god Tokage

somehow her quirk didn’t freak me out quite this much the last time we saw her. she is really something. has she always had shark teeth

also WHERE IS MONOMA’S GROUP. I immediately want to know!! is he with the Shouto group? or is there yet ANOTHER student group we don’t know about? what would they even be doing

or did Horikoshi actually get three quarters of the way through writing this arc and then suddenly slap his forehead as he realized that if Monoma just casually copied Machia’s powers he would either DIE IMMEDIATELY or else become SUPER STRONG and also grow 80 feet tall and this would suddenly be a very different battle with the scales tipping decidedly in the heroes’ favor. and so he had to quickly write him out of the battle in this very half-assed way

anyway, so while I ponder that, Tokage is peeking the top of her head out over the trees and staring at Machia who is, you guessed it, still heading right their way! just like he’s been doing pretty much this entire time

and now there’s a whole page of reaction panels you guys. this is why Horikoshi tries to avoid these massive Endgame-style battles with every single hero known to man participating. hopefully we won’t have too many of these. like I mean thank you for the roll call and all but I’d like to get to the action now

Mineta of all people is stealing this entire page with that expression though. he is not fucking around. this is twice in as many chapters that he’s been a page-stealing face-making champ. dare I hope this could be the start of a new niche for him? lord knows it would be so much better than the old niche

also this page is just sweatdrops galore. these kids are so nervous. MANGA GODS PLEASE KEEP THEM SAFE, although I’m honestly not too worried about them compared to the adults. I’m sure I should be, but I just am not

all right so now Momo is explaining what those little canisters are!

okay but someone please explain to me how it is that they had time to stop and lay all of these traps?? not just Honenuki’s, but Mineta’s and what looks like some of Shiozaki’s work as well?? did Machia just STOP MOVING for like five whole minutes all of a sudden for no reason at all? while they were all sitting out here saying things like “with that speed...”? ????? ????????

also lol wtf. “we’re gonna have to make him eat it.” I still have no idea what their plan is, but it’s getting more entertaining by the minute I’ll say that much

okay so Momo says that if they can get him to swallow just one of these, then that should be enough to put him to sleep. oh my god this chapter is going to be AMAZING isn’t it

meanwhile Mineta is worrying about Midnight. I swear to god if they turn this into something where he’s only worried because she’s hot, I will take one of these canisters and shove it right up his...

okay good, Mina’s reassuring him that it’s gonna be okay, and then we’re just cutting to Machia stampeding in with Mt. Lady and Kamui still clinging to him

WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE GUYS EVEN DOING

“we’ll just stand here adjacent to him and just kind of watch as he rushes straight at the children.” someone help me, I’m having difficulty finding a synonym for “useless” that carries the full amount of emphasis I want to place on it right now. this requires a degree of language the human race is not yet capable of

OH SNAP

THEY GOT HIM YEAHHHHH

OH DANG, FOR REAL THOUGH!!

ngl, for a brief spiteful moment I was disappointed he hadn’t actually fallen on them :/

and they’re still JUST STANDING THERE, I CAN'T EVEN?? we’re getting to the point where I honestly think actual civilians might have been of more use in this situation

YESSSSS

TIME TO FIND OUT HOW MANY TENTH GRADERS GIGANTOMACHIA CAN TAKE IN A FIGHT

also, sorry to keep harping on this, but the juxtaposition of that earlier panel with all of the fully grown and experienced pros just standing in dumb awe, immediately followed by this panel of BRAVE BUT DETERMINED CHILDREN CHARGING IN AND YELLING “GO GO GO”, is just... it really is something. shit. if I was the HPSC and this was what I had to work with, I too might have seriously considered fudging a few age requirements in hopes of finding someone who could actually get the fucking job done

also what the hell is going on down there with Shishida and Satou and that third person? what are those Blackwhip-looking things?? I’m confused

ohhhhh no

Shiozaki is about to be sent flying through the air courtesy of her own hair vines omg

OH NO WAIT THE THREE TOUGH GUYS ARE STOPPING HIM. AHHH THE LAST ONE WAS KENDOU AHHHH

I still can’t figure out what the hell those are though lol. did Momo make some steel cables?? I feel like Machia would be able to break just about any kind of rope or chain they could concoct just by sheer brute strength alone

ah fuck

DON’T YOU GUYS GO RUINING THIS FOR ME!! THEY’VE GOT A GOOD THING GOING HERE, LET THEM HAVE THEIR FUN!!

although I do appreciate how they’re all “U.A.!!” in kind of this “oh shit, these guys we actually have to worry about” sort of tone lol

this look on Toga’s face is a bit concerning! well but Deku and Ochako aren’t here though, so I wonder who she’s gonna fight if it comes to that. huh

(ETA: seriously, does anyone have any idea what Toga is planning cuz I sure don’t.)

Shouji and Ojiro, who I might remind you are normal people with no enhanced physical abilities aside from extra appendages, appear to have somehow circled all the way around to Machia’s back and are now climbing up oh shit

oh and Aoyama’s there too! -- is Shouji carrying him omg

he’s using him as a human ray gun omggg. this is the most delightful thing I’ve ever witnessed

NOW SOMETHING IS BEING SHOT AT THE LEAGUE AND DABI’S STARING AT IT ALL “>:(” AND I’M PRETTY SURE THIS THING, WHATEVER IT IS, IS ABOUT TO BE SET ON FIRE, LET’S SEE

lds;afksjdl;fkj WERE THOSE JIROU’S EARJACKS??!!

okay you know what fuck you Dabi. you think it’s funny to set a little girl’s ears on fire?! don’t expect any sympathy from me when Aoyama lasers you in the face

WELL I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT THEY’RE SHOOTING WHAT LOOK LIKE A BUNCH OF LITTLE TAMBOURINES AT HIM NOW

I ASSUME THEY ARE NOT ACTUALLY TAMBOURINES, BUT I REALLY DON’T KNOW, IT’S NOT LIKE THEY HANDED OUT THE RULE BOOK TO THIS THING AHEAD OF TIME

[HUGE EXAGGERATED GASPING SOUNDS]

oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my

OH MY GOD AND YANAGI THREW THEM WITH HER POLTERGEIST QUIRK!??

I DON’T KNOW WHAT THIS “ACK?!!” IS AND IT’S REALLY BUMMING ME OUT, BECAUSE THIS CAME WITHIN INCHES OF BEING THE COOLEST FUCKING COMBINATION I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!?!?

(ETA: it would have laid them all flat in seconds. Kaminari is to be feared you guys.)

NO!!!!!

it is sincerely frustrating to me watching the League carelessly toss aside all of their painstakingly accumulated goodwill from the MVA arc in the span of just a few short pages. hey Compress, you think it’s cool to hurl a bunch of rocks at my six-and-a-half-year-old son?? I hope someone rips that cool robot arm off and uses it to punch you in the dick

here comes Sero!! and how are you going to die, Sero

what in the

did he just... sneeze them all into space

okay but hear me out, what if Shouda absorbed that impact. SHOUDA YOUR TIME HAS FINALLY COME. CLASS 1-B’S ASCENT TO GLORY

(ETA: watch this space!! Shouda is here for a reason mark my words.)

meanwhile on Machia’s back, Dabi is soliloquying about Machia’s quirk while his arm is doing... something

please forgive me for not being able to drum up any sympathy for poor Dabi’s arms right about now. quit trying to set all my kids on fire

wait whaaaaat lol

so I scrolled back up to the previous page, and... that was fire?? lord help me why am I still so terrible at being able to tell when Horikoshi is drawing fire as opposed to just air randomly whooshing through trees. I have really got to memorize that foossh sound effect

so can Gigantomachia just BREATHE FIRE now?? or was ALL OF THAT Dabi??? if it was the latter then at least he had the decency to wait until all of the kids got blown out of range before setting the whole forest aflame to keep them back. I’ll admit it, that was thoughtful of him as far as villain power moves go

OHO BUT YOU CAN’T COUNT MOMO OUT JUST LIKE THAT!!

AND NOW EVERYTHING AROUND THEM IS EXPLODING AHHHHHH DID YOU GUYS SET LANDMINES, BAKUGOU WOULD BE SO PROUD

once again I have to ask myself exactly how much prep time they had here. Horikoshi would have you think it was mere seconds, but that clearly cannot be the case?? maybe they set some of these up beforehand to catch any stray villains trying to flee the area?

lmao Spinner’s all “wait why doesn’t he just dig his way out”, because apparently Machia can tunnel himself under the ground. but Compress is all “um because we would die” and Spinner is all “oh right”

though I gotta say, it’s not like they’re that much better off as things are now, either. pinned down in the woods surrounded by fire and explosives. definitely a conundrum

oh snap Compress has realized that their presence is holding Machia back. don’t tell me Machia is gonna head off on his own and leave the rest of the League to square off with the kids

YOOOOOO HOLY SHIT THE HEROES ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING

there you go, League! free cannon fodder to get you all pumped and confident again!

DKFJLSDKJ

PLEASE LET THIS BE THE ACTUAL TRANSLATION OH MY GOD. THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE LINE IN ANYTHING AHHHH

“I’m leaving it to you, U.A.’s youngsters!” yeah, you and everyone else. ah well, can’t deny they get the job done

OH MMKJKYYYY GODDDDDDJJK

MINA COATED HERSELF IN ACID AND IS RUNNING AT GIGANTOMACHIA AND IS SHE ALSO ON FIRE??!?! SHE’S JUST RUNNING AT HIM LIKE A BIG OL’ FIERY BLOB???! QUEEN MINA???!! FIRE IS NOT HER WEAKNESS???! MINA??!! IS AIRPLANE?!??!!?!? MINAAAAAAA

holy fucking shit this whole arc is just one big Arc Of Ladies Getting To Do Stuff and I am 1000% living for it. THIS ARC IS MY FAMILY. I WOULD DIE FOR IT AND LEAVE EVERYTHING TO IT IN MY WILL. ahhhhhhhhhh

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

Text

Green

My first attempt at a modern au! Based off a fantastic idea by @minky-for-short where Stephen and Lucien's relationship starts off as a sugar daddy arrangement!

Please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3

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If anyone had asked- God forbid, he’d rather die- Stephen would have rushed to his own defence. He’d probably have done it while turning bright red and spluttering but he’d have insisted it was just a matter of timing.

It wasn’t a lie. He’d have to work right up until he went to meet Lucien if he wanted to get the reports on his last few cases submitted in time. Lucien had meetings early in the morning, Stephen didn’t want to ask him to push their date back any further than he already had and the thought of cancelling...well that wasn’t an option. Not because of Lucien, who was extremely flexible and understanding as far as people in this kind of arrangement went. He just couldn’t and he wasn’t going to give it any more thought than that.

But it was just because of the timing. Stephen wasn’t getting off on this or anything. There just wasn’t going to be time to change into it between the end of his overly long day at the justiciary and the start of his date so wearing it all under his work clothes was the only option. He’d have insisted that until he ran out of air, if anyone had asked, probably before jumping out of the nearest window.

But this, Stephen did have to admit to himself, was entirely indefensible. This was just because he was a hopeless degenerate.

“Just going to the bathroom,” he announced in what he hoped was a casual tone, dropping his pen down with a thunk on the blanket of newspapers spread out on his desk, ones he’d been scouring for signs of magical miscreancy. More than half of their cases came from just noticing something odd in those tiny stories crushed up into the margins of local papers.

From the desk that joined onto his, though much neater and better organised and with less coffee cup rings etched permanently onto it, Esther looked up with a frown.

“I’m not your teacher, Steph. But okay, good for you,” she muttered before turning back to her computer. She’d lost their game of rock paper scissors that morning so it was her turn to deal with all of the emails that were inevitably sent to the justiciary every day, majority of which were complete nonsense and all of which were painful to read.

Stephen winced, snatching up his phone and making a quick exit before he could make it any more obvious that he was hiding something. Getting to the bathroom was harder that it really should have been, given how close the desks were shoved together, how many stacks of papers sat precariously on desk edges, how many odd trinkets and artefacts humming with magic were left to scatter across the faded carpet. But Stephen had worked there amongst the justiciary’s chaos for long enough that he made it to the other side of the cramped office without causing a disaster, only needing to nudge a few things back into place with his power as he went. Thankfully at this hour there was no one else still here to express their irritation.

The bathrooms in the Council Building were a microcosm of the rest of the place- too small, poorly maintained, outdated and a decent place to cry when overstressed, overworked and overwhelming. But for once, Stephen was rather grateful for that fact because it meant the bathroom was only built for one person at a time, meaning he could lock the door and be confident that no one was going to walk in on him doing what he was about to do.

Stephen pushed back his hair and gave a long, steady exhale. Since he’d entered into this arrangement with Lucien Vaudrey he’d been doing a lot of thinking with cock rather than his brain and, honestly, he’d had no reason to regret it yet. Save a few mornings where walking wasn’t as easy as it might have been.

So his brain didn’t get a look in, he put his back to the door and quickly yanked open the first few buttons of his shirt, just enough that he could pull his collar aside and show a little of what was underneath. Not too much, just the start of the lacy paneling that made up the band that circled his upper chest, the edge of one of the black straps that zig zagged across his body in an array that had taken longer to work out than he was willing to admit.

Stephen ran his thumb along the black lace, shivering a little. He’d been so wrapped up in his work since walking into the office that he’d mostly forgotten it was there but every so often he’d shift in his chair or he’d stand too quickly and he’d feel the feathery touch of all that silk slip between his skin and his clothes like a caress. He’d had to shove the awareness away very quickly before it could send any more than a quick jolt to his groin and was just thankful that today had been one spent entirely at his desk.

But he was only wearing it because of the timing. He was on a tight schedule. Of course.

Now, as he flicked his phone camera open with a thumb and held it at a slightly raised angle like he’d seen people do when they knew far more about taking selfies than he did, he couldn’t help but be aware of it all. The way it snaked around his body and held him tight, branching out like roots hidden in the ground, putting the barest pressure on his hips and chest and the curve of his arse like the ghost of Lucien’s hands. Invisible under his deliberate choice of a dark blue shirt and his usual shabby suit, except for the barest glimpse he was allowing. Only known to him.

And now to Lucien.

Stephen took a quick photo of himself, holding his shirt open with one hand, using a little of his power to brighten his eyes. Of course he didn’t find the picture particularly impressive, all he saw when he looked it back over were the hollowness of his cheeks, the jut of his overly large nose and the immense bags under his eyes. How his hair needed brushing and the out of place tooth that showed in the slight part of his lips. But he’d learned to trust Lucien’s opinion on these things, his blindness to all the flaws that jumped out to his own eyes, and his lover’s response to this picture was too good to pass up for the sake of insecurity.

So he opened up the many texts he’d been exchanging lately with the contact in his phone that was nothing but an emoji of a feather. He typed out a quick message before attaching the photo and sending it on it’s way.

Got your present this morning. What do you think?

Stephen gathered himself together quickly, buttoning his shirt again and checking swiftly in the mirror that nothing was showing through. He wasn’t sure what someone looked like when they were wearing lingerie under their clothes but he tried to make his whatever the opposite of that was. With a thought, he set off the old, roaring hand dryer so it would sound like he’d been doing something people were supposed to do in bathrooms. When dealing with Esther, there was no such thing as overcovering his tracks.

He navigated his way back through the obstacle course of office equipment and magical paraphernalia to where Esther was scowling at her computer screen and stabbing the keys as she typed.

“I swear, if we get one more sodding email about UFOs I’m going to throw this thing out of the window,” she declared, viciously deleting like each one had offended her personally.

“Y’know there are days I wish practitioners actually were secretly working for a cabal of interdimensional aliens,” Stephen hummed, sliding back into his chair, “We’d probably have more funding if we were.”

Esther gave a mirthless snort of laughter, the text on her screen reflecting in her glasses, not even glancing from it as she took a swig of coffee. A mug had appeared on his desk too, freshly steaming.

Stephen was about to thank her when his phone buzzed in his hand, making him jump. He scrambled to check it, feeling his heart thud when he saw it was from Lucien. Two messages, short and sharp and impossible not to read in his cool tones.

Beautiful witch

You are in so much trouble

The handful of hours between those messages and half past ten had felt like an eternity. Enough that Stephen couldn’t hide his haste as he nearly sprinted from the Council Building to the Underground. He spent the long ride from the shabby borough the justiciary called home to Knightsbridge staring at his phone, rereading that message over and over again, his mind running away with all that so much trouble implied. He knew fine well he was going to arrive flushed, already half hard and salivating, ready to do whatever Lucien asked of him.

He wove his way through the evening crowds, stumbling into the bar they always came into. It was a sleek, expensive looking place, the kind of bar he’d never set foot in if he hadn’t been beckoned by Lucien. He felt every penny in his meagre paycheck when he walked through the door but he did like the warmth, the rich leather, the fact that nearly all of the other couples there were pairs of men too. He liked how Lucien would put his arm around him as they sat in their usual booth and he’d feel that flicker of belonging, in spite of everything else.

Stephen’s eyes, betraying his excitement more than anything else by being a sparking gold, tracked over the room until he spotted him. Lucien, having far more control over his working hours, often arrived well before Stephen and sat with his laptop or a book or a newspaper, a glass of whiskey at his elbow. But today the table before him was clear of distractions, he simply sat with his fingers steepled at his lips, his fine features set into an expression of patience. The kind of face a hunting cat would wear, knowing their prey would be along in due course.

And when his clear, grey eyes locked on Stephen, he simply smiled.

Swallowing hard, the younger man leapt to attention, clearing the bar and sliding into the booth with his lover.

“Evening,” he tried, casually, though his heart was hammering and his cock was aching.

“Just what did you think you were playing at, sweet boy?”

Lucien dispensed with the pleasantries, his voice already dropped into the low, rolling tones he used when Stephen was about to lose his clothes. He spoke softly so their conversation didn’t carry past the oak panelled confines of their booth but not enough that Stephen missed the heat in his tone. He tried to get a grip on himself, he had a feeling he’d need to walk across the room before too long.

“I thought you’d want to see,” he shivered as his tone slipped almost unconsciously into something playful, something teasing and faux innocent, an affectation that would have made a past version of himself gape in disbelief, “It looked so pretty and the note said you wanted me to wear it tonight…”

Lucien’s eyes flashed, “Did the note say to be a little prick tease and send filthy pictures to me while I was infuriatingly far away and couldn’t get my hands on you?”

Under the table, Stephen felt Lucien’s far longer, wiry muscled legs slide over his own. After waiting all day even that bare contact, through two layers of clothing, had him swallowing back a whimper.

"No...” Stephen dropped his chin, seeming to bow under the intensity until he let his eyes flicker up and catch Lucien’s, “My lord.”

He watched as the hard line of his lover’s jaw tightened. They’d been in this arrangement for a couple of months now and one thing Stephen had learned, amongst a host of new desires he’d never suspected he owned, was those words. Those words, referencing the titles that Lucien actually did own but denied in his everyday life, were essentially a crooked finger. They were Stephen essentially pinning a badge to himself that read ‘complete and unapologetic brat’, carte blanche for Lucien to master him however he saw fit. To break him, if required.

“Then you deserve everything you’re getting, don’t you?” Lucien shifted into something not unlike a lion winding back to pounce, “Because if you’re going to act like a slut, that’s exactly how I’m going to treat you.”

Stephen felt those words grip him by the nerve endings and he knew fine well he was fidgeting but didn’t know how to stop. He just looked at Lucien with mute, pleading surrender.

“I am going to get up and go into the men’s bathroom,’ Lucien gave the low command, “In five minutes, when you’ve got some kind of control over yourself, you’re going to join me. And I am going to show you what happens when you think you can make me wait. Colour?”

That last word was ever so slightly softer, offered rather than dictated. Lucien never failed to check in with Stephen whenever they were playing. It was in their agreement, of course, but Stephen had the strong sense this was just how the man would be with all his partners, for all his domineering tendencies.

Stephen swallowed and glanced around. There weren’t many people in at this late hour, this bar was more of a sophisticated runway for a night out and most of the crowds had moved to somewhere louder and more raucous. Just a few couples, like them, more wrapped up in each other than anyone else, not quite ready to let their dates end. He did some nervous mathematics on how likely they were to get caught, balancing the number of other customers with his ability to double lock the door with magic, dividing in the failsafe that he could always use a little bit of fluence in a real emergency…

Hopeless degenerate, Day, his brain sighed.

“Green,” he murmured and he couldn’t help the grin that flickered to life on his face, just for a moment.

Lucien clearly forgave the break in character, answering with one of his own before composing himself and smoothly rising, looking effortlessly in control as he loped casually towards the gent’s. Stephen stared at his arse the entire time without much remorse. He’d already made his bed, after all.

He timed the five minutes on his phone, drinking the remainder of Lucien’s whiskey in the meantime, giving the heady, smoky taste of it every scrap of his attention in an attempt to redirect some blood flow. It took the full time before he judged himself ready to walk across the room, before he could scramble up and follow like a dog at his master’s call.

Twice in one day, Stephen found himself endlessly thankful for single-person bathrooms, as he was yanked into one by the front of his shirt and the door slammed behind him with the very reassuring click of a lock. He double secured it with a little magic, all the same, as Lucien kissed him fiercely.

“There you are,” Lucien purred once he was done bruising their lips, not letting go of Stephen’s lapels and keeping him awkwardly standing on his tiptoes, “Surprised you managed to wait the full five.”

“You told me too,” Stephen gasped, aware that Lucien’s eyes were looking into his shirt, hungrily tracing the lines of lace that were now visible.

Lucien chuckled, “Too late to try and be a good boy now, darling. Shirt open. Trousers down.”

Stephen willed the ether into work, knowing it always impressed Lucien just a little to see the buttons and zips and buckles falling away with apparently no effort at all. It was quicker too, only a few moments before he was as instructed, all of the lingerie now visible to Lucien’s searching gaze. He seemed to drink in the sight, his gaze ravenous as those grey eyes slid up and down the length of him.

“Didn’t I tell you that you’d look divine?” Lucien groaned appreciatively, running a finger under the lace trim below his chest, raising goosebumps as he went.

“Uh huh,” Stephen gasped, unable to be more articulate than that, his need drowning everything else, “My lord…”

“Against the sink, sweet boy,” those strong, slightly calloused hands took his shoulders and guided him until he was bracing himself on the edges of the sink, Lucien’s chest pressed against his back, “I want you to see yourself.”

So Stephen watched this other version of himself in the mirror, bathed in harsh light from overhead. He watched as his pupils blew wide, as his slightly swollen lips parted in a gasp when he felt Lucien shift to pull a bottle of something out of his jacket pocket. He watched this ethereal, high contrast version of himself flush as one large hand caressed the curve of his ass through the lace before hooking it to one side. He watched his eyelids flutter and his head tilt back when a slick finger teased him open, and saw his lace wreathed chest heave when it breached him. Stephen watched this man who was somehow him be opened and readied with care and attention, felt every moan reverberate in his own chest, felt his own nerves pulse and thrum with pleasure. And he found himself thinking, as much as he’d been unable to say it before, Lucien had been right.

He’d told him he’d look divine and he did. He’d told him he was beautiful and he was. Maybe he always had been.

“Ready?” Lucien murmured, grazing his earlobe with his teeth, “Give me a colour, sweet boy.”

“Green,” Stephen gasped, voice raw and ready to snap, “So green, my lord, please…”

He felt Lucien’s laugh echo through him, his arms coming around to press them close, “You need to be quieter, darling, or we’ll need to find a new date night place.”

“Well get on with fucking me then,” Stephen grumbled, forgetting himself in his desperation.

“Ah ah ah,” Lucien let his voice grow dangerous again, one hand snaking down to squeeze his aching cock through the lace panties, none too gently, “What kind of tone is that, sweet boy?”

Stephen whined, biting his lip and shuddering, “Sorry, my lord.”

“Better,” Lucien pulled his hand back, using it to unzip himself, “Don’t I always give you what you need?”

He proved his point as he moved the panties aside again, pressing into Stephen, now giving him everything he needed with no hesitation, right up to the hilt. Stephen had to fight to stay quiet, gripping the sink with white knuckles, planting his feet as far apart as he could to try and make room. Lucien paused, kissing the crown of his head, before finding a steady, natural rhythm with his hips, aware they didn’t exactly have a lot of time.

Stephen melted into it, gasps and grunts as soft as he could make them wrenching from his chest, shuddering as Lucien’s hands began roving again. Between the hand working him through the fabric and the cock pounding into him, the tension climbed punishingly fast, until he was scrabbling for balance, heart pounding, breath coming in desperate pants.

“I...fuck, Lucien, I’m there, I...oh god,” he gasped incoherently, arching back against his lover.

“I’ve got you,” Lucien groaned, shifting to work at a deeper angle, “Come for me, sweet boy.”

Stephen did, with a strangled moan, all of the waiting and teasing and tension unravelling in one blissful moment that turned his vision white. A heartbeat later he felt Lucien empty into him, heat pooling low in his stomach which then ignited into the familiar rush of power their lovemaking always gave him. He went rigid, feeling that rush that was so, so close to too much, but he knew it would ebb and leave him boneless and trembling in Lucien’s arms.

“We...may not have thought this through,” Lucien panted, steadying him gently.

“Because I’ve ruined the lovely underwear you got me?” Stephen murmured, closing his eyes a moment, “Because we’ve somehow got to clean ourselves up and walk out of here with some dignity? Because you might have to carry me because I’m not sure I can actually walk?”

Lucien chuckled, “All of that. But also…”

He held out his arms, showing the patches of tan skin where the magpies should be. They were off again, animated by Stephen’s magic, a few already exploring under the lace, pecking curiously.

“I really should have worn long sleeves,” Lucien admitted.

Stephen couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing, both hands flying to his mouth to try and muffle the sound. Lucien dissolved too, burying his face in Stephen’s curls as he shook with wracking laughter.

Stephen knew, with his trousers around his ankles and shirt slipping over one shoulder, standing in a public bathroom freshly fucked and wearing lace lingerie, he should be feeling like a hopeless degenerate. And he did, pleasantly so. But that wasn’t the only thing.

If anyone had asked him he would have denied it. But in that moment, Stephen felt loved.

#a charm of magpies #Stephen day #Lucien vaudrey #modern au #sugar daddy au #smut

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jabbajambler · 4 years

Text

Powerless

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 2,019

*GIF by @monicarmbeau*

"So. What've you been up to?" I asked, fiddling with my thumbs from my seat. Din didn't answer me. I didn't really expect him too, but he seemed so friendly just a few minutes ago. I guess that was just to get me on board this crazy plan. "What about you?" I smiled and turned to the child. He cooed, a much more friendly response than someone.

Tatooine was already in sight, which I was incredibly thankful for. This entire flight felt like torture. Din wouldn't say a word except for the quick debriefing and the kid, as adorable as he is, isn't much of a conversationalist. The trip consisted largely of me looking out the window and hoping this would all be over soon. I was expecting a much larger hoorah when we finally met again, but I guess this works too.

I mean, we were friends before everything else happened. I thought we would just fall back into that rhythm again. Boy, was I wrong. There was nothing familiar about this, not even a petty remark or joke. This was the galaxy's worst silent treatment.

Din carefully approached the planet and landed the ship in Peli's hangar. Man, I missed that crazy old woman. He seemed to linger in his seat for a moment and if my ears were correct, I could hear him take a long, deep breath.

"Stay here. It'll only be a second." He finally spoke.

I sighed and leaned back in my seat, picking at the pieces of cracked red leather. "Fine."

Din rushed out of the ship like he couldn't spend another moment in the small cockpit. I don't think I'd ever seen him move so fast. He took his time with everything, walking down the streets as though every planet was his own runway. Yet he jumped at the chance to get away from me.

There was a small poke against my shin, followed by a little babble. I looked down to find the child staring up at me with his enormous brown eyes. His hands were held high in the air, just like any little kid wanting to be picked up.

I scooped him up and cradled him in my arms, unable to keep a frown on my face when he was patting my cheek with his tiny hand. "Din's changed, hasn't he?" I sighed and rubbed his small head. "I figured. I screwed up, I do that sometimes. I'm going to fix it though, I promise."

He giggled and grabbed my nose, squeezing it lightly. I laughed and pulled his hand away from my face, holding it in my own. It was so small in comparison, so helpless despite knowing the feats he can accomplish.

"I missed you. Both of you, but you the most," I whispered. "Don't tell Din, though. It'll hurt his feelings. Not that he'll ever admit that, but I know." I winked and wiggled my fingers, pulling his ears over his eyes through the Force. He seemed to enjoy our little game, laughing and trying to grab his ears to keep them away.

"Okay, uh..." Din's voice echoed through the ship. "Put your egg-things there and climb up the ladder."

I snickered to myself and rocked the child slowly in my arms. A frog lady emerged from the arch, croaking at me in what I assumed was a friendly greeting. I offered her a smile and nod while I shifted the child into my right arm. It was a bit of a struggle climbing down the ladder with one arm, but I've managed with worse.

The ramp squeaked as it rose and clicked in place with the rest of the ship. Din stood, his back facing me while he watched it. His silhouette was powerful, armed and unknown to most. The expanse of his shoulders was broad, which I accredited that to the armor, but who knows. His stance alone could've scared off any quarry, so confident and ready for whatever they could possibly throw at him.

I didn't even realize I was admiring him until it was too late.

"What are you staring at?"

I blinked and found him looking back at me. I swore I never even saw him move. "Nothing," I lied and set the child down on the ground once he started to squirm. "I was just going to see if I could wave to Peli before we lifted off, but I guess it's too late."

"She mentioned you earlier. I think she likes you."

I smiled and watched Din shift on his feet. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Not at all," he hummed and looked back towards the ladder with a subtle nod. "Are you climbing back up or staying down here?"

I could feel my stomach dip at his words, trying to form an apology or something, but I couldn't speak without making a fool of myself. "I'll head up, yeah." I mumbled and swiftly climbed back into the cockpit with Din not too far behind. It felt so forced to talk to him, I hated it.

Din maneuvered his way into the pilots seat and pulled the ship off the ground. Getting into the sky was the easy part, getting to Trask would be much more difficult with our circumstances.

"Now, I'm gonna ask you to stay strapped in whenever you're seated." Din said as he poked at the control panel. "Traveling sublight is a bit dicey these days. Whether it's pirates or warlords, someone either ends up with a nice chunk of change or your ship."

I scoffed at his pessimism while the frog lady pulled her seat belt on and croaked. I could only assume she agreed with me.

"I don't speak whatever language that is. You speak Huttese?" He asked and rambled on in the language.

"It'll be fine. We can just ask yes or no questions." He sighed and turned away from both of us, staring back out at the sky. "Or we can just stay silent the entire ride, again." Receiving no response, I looked to the frog lady who was busying herself by looking out the window. "So, your husband is on Trask?" She nodded. "That's cool. I've never been there, it's always nice to explore other parts of the Outer Rim."

"So, I'm gonna hit the rack. I've set the nav for our course. It's gonna take a while, I recommend you both get some rest." Din stood in a hurry and descended down the ladder, leaving the frog lady and I alone in the cockpit. I suppose now was as good of a time as any to get some shut eye.

I shrugged and crossed my arms over my chest while leaning back in my seat. It wasn't the most comfortable thing, but it would do for a few hours. At least, if no one caught up to us.

My eyes fell shut with ease and I could feel myself lulled into a subconscious state. For a while, there was nothing but darkness, as one usually experiences in sleep, but then there was something else.

I saw a flash of silver metal hitting an orange blade, one a bit too similar to my own. In the metal was a reflection of something red, mixed with orange and yellow tones to create something terrifying. It was a combination of all the worst things I'd ever seen, but in a way, it was beautiful. There was something powerful about the scene displayed before me and I wanted to know more.

I tried to reach for it, whatever it might have been. It was strong, enticing, and maybe just what Aaryn and Obi Wan were telling me to search for. How could something so magnificent possibly be bad?

Before I could reach any further, an alarm blared through the cockpit and awoke me from whatever vision I was seeing. Din slid in the room with the doors hissing behind him as he sat down, tapping at the incoming radio message. So much for getting some rest.

"Razor Crest, M-One Eleven. Come in, Razor Crest. Do you copy?" The static voice emitted from the transmitter.

"This is Razor Crest." Din spoke calmly, "is there a problem?"

I snickered from my seat, "you got caught by the cops." I said as they responded.

"Yes, I'm pre-Empire surplus." Din answered while casting me a subtle look, his silent way of telling me to be quiet. "I'm not required to run a beacon."

"That was before." I think I could hear the roll of their eyes in their voice. "This sector is under New Republic jurisdiction. All craft are required to run a beacon."

Din sighed, "thank you for letting me know. I'll get right on it."

"Not a problem. Safe travels."

"Uh," he paused, "may the Force be with you."

I mouthed the words with a teasing smile as the X-Wing pilot spoke the phrase, "and also with you." Maker, it sounded like a cultish response. "Just one more thing." They continued.

"Yes?" Din's tone was gradually growing more frustrated.

The two continued on about transmitters as Din hopelessly failed at avoiding it. Honestly, I thought we would've gotten away just fine, but then the two pilots switched channels and soon expanded the wings of their ships.

"Was your craft in the proximity of New Republic Correctional Transport, Bothan-Five?"

Din continued to stare out the window, his grip on the controls tightening with their words. "Hang on." He mumbled under his breath before lurching the ship forward towards the closest planet, bringing a scream out of the frog lady's chest.

I grasped the arms of my chair as tightly as I could, regretting that I hadn't buckled-in earlier. We moved quickly through the clouds as the pilots urged us to "stand down," but we kept flying chaotically through the sky.

"Hey, uh.. Mando?" I shouted as I struggled to keep my hold on the seat. "Are you open to suggestions right now? Because maybe-"

He thrusted the ship downwards again while I frantically pulled my seatbelt over me to keep me at least somewhat in place. I was able to snap it shut just before we went hurling towards the ground.

The frog lady started to scream, which didn't seem like a bad idea, but I had a better one. Instead, I yelled several swears and many things I would be ashamed for my parents to hear as we sped towards the icy surface. Before we could hit the terrain, Din shot the ship back into the sky and through a frozen canyon.

The walls surrounded us, slowly closing in and threatening to turn us into a kabob with its icicles. We were inching closer to the walls, practically suffocating in them as they nearly smashed the engines of our ship.

I grabbed onto the back of his chair and leaned towards his seat as much as I could, keeping my voice low as I grumbled, "Din..."

He sighed and glanced over at me with a slight turn of his head. "Hold on," he grunted as the ship slid along the ice. I was tossed back into my seat while we came to a screeching halt. Din started to switch the controls, but I was finally granted a moment to catch my breath

"Thank the Maker," I huffed. Apparently I'd spoken too soon.

I heard a crunch, followed by another. It seems the others heard it as well, because we all started looking around for the source of the sound. Then there was a large crash and the ship crashed beneath the ice. The frog lady screamed and Din was in a silent panic, as usual, then nothing.

It all went dark and there was nothing else this time. Not a dream, not a nightmare - or, visions, as I was told when I was younger. There was nothing but cold and darkness and that's the closest thing to a nightmare I've ever had.

taglist:

@emiijemii

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc #Mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #din djarin #din djarin x oc #dyn jarren #jedi #OC #star wars #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters #babyyoda #grogu

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manawhaat · 5 years

Text

Island Fires

Title: Island Fires

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony, Bucky, Bruce, Helen Cho, mentions of Clint and Wanda.

Prompt: Huddling for warmth.

Summary: You and Steve are stranded on an island after a failed mission when a life or death situation reveals more about the two of you than you ever would have known.

Warnings: Bearded!Cap, Steven Grant Rogers swearing like a sailor, flying (and crashing) a helicopter, sinking into the ocean, open water, distress and scenes of hypothermia, character death, being stranded on an island, fluff.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Written for @star-spangled-bingo with a quick beta by @samsgoddess. If you like it, let me know :) Thanks for reading!

“How are the comms even down?”

“I don’t know, but we probably shouldn’t stick around to see what else they can manage,” Steve pants, eyes squinting against the midday sun. “We already know Clint was compromised and Wanda was injured. If anyone else’s comms are up they’re probably going to pull back. We should get back to the q-”

Before he can finish his sentence you catch a glimpse of something rising up into the air and you watch as the quinjet takes off, leaving you and Steve there in the thick of it with no way out.

“Fuck.”

Bullets ricochet off the railing overhead and you both spring into action to eliminate the threat. In the thick of the fight you spot your way out at the end of the tarmac. “Cap, look.”

When the enemy is down, blue eyes lock on the chopper and you follow his lead, both of you making your run for it.

“Do you even know how to fly one of these things?”

Running ahead Steve shouts back at you, “Does it matter? Now hurry up.”

“Oh, sorry I’m not Captain A-Fucking-Merica,” you sass.

Steve shoots a look over his shoulder that says ‘really?’ and you roll your eyes but pick up the pace, chest pounding hard and fast when you finally make it into the chopper beside him.

As the engine starts up, bullets start whizzing by. Steve moves the cyclic and the rounds flying by outside the chopper start pinging off the landing skids as you lift into the air. A few seconds later Steve has full control of the helicopter and you’re soaring up and through the sky.

“Get on that radio and see if you can make contact with them,” he orders, and you start flipping buttons, holding the headset to your ears, listening for anything.

Ten minutes pass before you say, “I’m not picking anything up.”

“Ok. That’s fine. We just need to get somewhere. We just-”

A loud screeching starts coming from the cockpit and lights flash all over the control panel. Looking for the source, the chopper slows and slowly starts descending.

“What is this? Steve, what are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything! I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Ok, but we’re clearly going down!”

Blue eyes look down and see a silver lining. “Well, we’re over water, so we might have a chance at surviving the crash.”

As much as you wish you could keep your cool, stand strong by your friend, your Captain, it just isn’t in the cards for you. A slur of swears and prayer erupts from your lips as your heart plummets into your stomach. Any semblance of calm is gone and you’re in a full blown panic when Steve grabs you by the collar and tries to snap you out of it.

“Y/n! Look at me.” The tone in his voice cuts through and you’re able to focus on those cerulean blue eyes just long enough for him to say, “Look, we’re going down. It’s happening. I need you to breathe. We’re gonna hit, hard. Stay awake. Keep your eyes open. I’m right here and I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you, okay?”

Something about how he’s holding you makes you believe him, and though your body wants to fight it, you tighten the straps of your harness and force shaky breaths into your lungs.

“Okay, hold on. I’m gonna try something, here.”

Turning to face Steve, you see him pushing buttons, flipping switches, working on a fucking miracle. “Brace, Y/n. Brace!”

Though he told you to keep your eyes open, you simply can’t. Slamming your eyes shut, the chopper lifts awkwardly, spins a little, dips, lifts, and then slams into the water at an angle that knocks the wind out of your lungs. Ears ringing, you’re faintly aware of a voice cutting in under the thrum of your frantic heartbeat.

Cold.

Eyes jolting open wider, everything is too bright all at once.

“Holy shit,” you gasp in shock as frigid water floods the space around you, already threatening to cover your knees. Panic bubbles into your voice and a whole new level of fear fills you to the brim. “Steve?”

“I’m right here. Are you okay?”

“Considering we just crashed a helicopter?”

A faint laugh pulls on his voice. “Try to take deep breaths. It’s sinking fast so we’re gonna wait until we’re completely under, then we can escape, ok? Just keep your harness on until we’re under, alright?” Steve waits for you to nod his way before unbuckling his harness and diving into the water. He disappears and suddenly you’re filled with doubt.

You try to find him in the water but everything is moving too fast and you can’t see anything other than the rapid rise of it in the small space. Tears suddenly fill your eyes and you shut them tight, trying to take deep breaths like Steve told you to. Every inch the water rises brings hiccups and tremors to your body. Hyperventilation isn’t uncommon in situations or water temperatures like this, but you’re going under and, thankfully, part of your brain snaps you out of it. Though shaky, you do your best to maintain steady, timed breaths. When the water reaches your neck, your eyes fly open again, looking around frantically. He’s still nowhere to be found and you let out a garbled cry of fear before heaving in your last deep breath.

The cold water covers your mouth and washes over your head and your shaking hands go to unbuckle your harness. Fingers grasp at yours and you can make out Steve’s face right in front of your own. Though you’re still terrified, you find a little relief knowing that he’s there.

Steve helps you and ushers you through the chopper to the emergency door. The corded muscles in his body tense as he forces the mangled steel open, then pushes you through the opening, pointing upward.

Swimming through the cold water, you lose sight of him again. A cold numbness pricks at your skin and you heave in shallow, uneven breaths when you surface. A few seconds pass and you turn in the water, but Steve isn’t there. Ten seconds turns to twenty, turns to thirty, and you’re about to dive back down to find him when he pops up a few feet away from you.

“Jesus, I thought you drowned.” The quiver in your voice has his eyes softening at you, and he shoves something your way. As your hands land on it, you make it out to be one of the pilot’s seats and you thank high heaven that it’s at least half-buoyant.

“F-fuck, Steve-”

“I know.” You’re both panting, shivering, breath stuck in your lungs. “This water’s gotta be about fifty degrees- maybe less. It could be worse, but we’re still in danger, Y/n.”

Even in your turmoil, the idea of Steve being in danger pulls a sarcastic laugh from you. “We?”

He sighs and finds your hand on top of the seat. “You have twenty minutes, maybe, before hypothermia sets in. In this water it’ll progress faster than normal, so you’ll only have an hour or so after that before...”

He trails off and it’s now that you notice the mist in his eyes. It’s not the salt water. It’s fear. And if Steve is scared, you know it’s serious.

“Ok,” you whisper, tearing your eyes away from the man in front of you to look around. A blur of green catches your eyes and you blink fast, a nervous laugh bubbling out of your chest. “Look.” An island stands alone not too far off in the distance, promising of your survival. “How f-far do you th-th-think that is?”

Steve’s brow furrows at your stuttering and he answers honestly. “It’s gonna take longer than you have to get there, Y/n.”

Stomach sinking, you take a second to swallow back your tears and push off the seat keeping you afloat. “Well then I think I’ll d-die a little closer t-to the island instead of in the m-middle of the ocean,” you snap as clearly as you can and start swimming away.

Calling after you, Steve quickly catches up and pushes the pilot’s chair in front of you. “Look, I’m sorry, I just know what’s at stake, here…”

“And I d-don’t?” you shiver violently, grabbing onto the chair while your lungs contract in your torso. Eyes softening at you, you shake your head and muster your strength. “Okay, s-so what’s the game plan?”

Taking charge. Steve is used to leading the efforts and he feels good in his element, even if the crisis he’s trying to prevent is you dying.

“We use this to conserve energy.” He pats the seat. “With the water and the shock of the crash you’re not going to have as much stamina or strength as you normally would. Your best bet is to get as close to land as you can and when your body gives out I can push you the rest of the way on top of the chair, that way you’re not completely immersed.”

Nodding at his plan, you and Steve get to work. Sure enough, less than half an hour later your body begins to lag. Confusion settles in and your eyes can’t focus on any one thing. You’re freezing, but also sleepy in an almost drunk kind of way, and your limbs slow dramatically beside Steve.

“Looks like it’s that time,” he huffs with worry, stopping in the water to collect you and push you up onto the seat.

“‘M fine, Shtevey,” you slur with a slack smile on your now pale face.

You don’t know enough about hypothermia to understand the progression, but Steve does, and he works past his own pain and onset to get you to that island as fast as he possibly can.

You’re slurring your words and muttering to yourself, skin tinged a light blue and eyes crossed. Steve’s working against the current when you garble something he can’t understand, then try to get back into the water.

“What the hell are you doing?” Before he can push you back up onto the seat your muscles lock and the undercurrent he’d been fighting drags you under.

Steve dives after you, finding a piece of fabric in the water and holding on for dear life. When he surfaces and pulls you up, you sputter and cough violently with the water you inhaled. Knowing you don’t have much time left, he pushes you up onto the seat and uses his strength to rip the harness straps, using part of it to strap you to the buoyant side of the seat and the other as a tow line so he can swim without holding onto the seat.

Fading in and out of a dazed and confused state, you faintly register the rise and fall of waves under you, and then you’re sliding and going under again. Something in your brain tells you to move, but you can’t, and the crest of a wave slams into you, pushing you under the surface. Whitewash pulls your hair and limbs every which way and your face hits something hard, then two hands are ripping you out of the water.

“We’re here! We’re here! Hold on, Y/n!”

The world spins and flips and your legs drag in the sand where he’s hauling you up the shore out of the shallows.

“Hey, hey, stay awake!”

Your eyes open at his words and you make out the blur of palm trees when heavy hands force you down to your knees in the sand and he makes sure your glazed over eyes are at least looking in his direction before he speaks.

“Stay here, Y/n. Don’t get back in the water. Stay awake. Just stay here, I’ll be right back.”

You give a mindless nod and Steve rushes off into the line of palm trees that turns into jungle, desperately searching for enough to make a shelter or fire to keep you warm.

The cold subsides within you and all you are is numb and half blind. The ocean waves crashing against the sand behind you roar in your ears and suddenly a wave of stifling heat spreads through you. Shaky fingers reach for the zippers and clasps keeping your suit on, confusion muddling your brain. Removing the top half, your brain is flooded with dopamine and a drunk smile spreads across your face as you fall flat and roll onto your back to kick off your shoes and push off your pants. The world spins fast in front of your eyes, filling you with the feeling of flying, or falling, and the warmth flooding you urges you to remove your clothes. Bra and panties discarded in the sand, you force yourself to your feet, body lurching and swaying as you drag yourself up the beach towards the tall trees, looking for the perfect spot to dig. Numb legs deceive you and you land on your shoulder in the soft sand, eyes blinking lazily against the fall before the sounds of the sea lull you to sleep.

Vines and branches whip at his face and he gathers whatever he can as quickly as possible, worried about leaving you there on the shore alone. When he has enough for a fire he runs back, heart dropping into the pit of his stomach when he clears through the trees again.

“Oh, shit! Shit, shit shit!”

The palm fronds fall to the ground and Steve is at your side in an instant, pushing you onto your back and lightly slapping your face. You’re unresponsive and a growl comes from his throat as he tries to wake you to no avail. As helpful as a fire would be, if he doesn’t warm you right now, you’ll die.

“Fuck!”

Steve strips out of his suit before pulling your naked body into his arms. He rushes you into the trees and finds a spot where the sea wind can’t reach you, laying down a few palm fronds to insulate the ground before laying you down. He slides up next to you, fingers on your neck to check your pulse, and his own heart stops when your pulse is gone.

“No!”

Steve’s cry is left to echo back into his own ears on the lonely island. He refuses to lose you. He won’t let this sandy shore become your grave, so he starts compressions. Tears stream from his eyes and desperation takes up the space in his lungs with every push down on your sternum. Your skin is tinged blue and your eyes are glazed, lifeless, pupils dilated on nothing. None of your beauty is there in the slack pull of gravity. Your face doesn’t even look like your own and it haunts him.

He stops twice to check your pulse and he’s at the end of his rope. When he checks it the third time, a fresh wave of tears fall down his cheeks. It’s faint, but your pulse beats weakly against his fingertips.

“Oh, thank God. Come on, Y/n. That’s it, sweetheart.” That gentle beat is all he needs to hang onto.

Arranging you both on the palm fronds, Steve pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly to him. Every inch of him is wrapped around you and he finds another couple of fronds to pull over you both. Lips in your hairline, he whispers your name, whispers encouragement and praise.

“Come on,” he pleads. “Come on. I love you, Y/n. I love you…”

When the words fall from his lips his heart leaps into his throat and suddenly he’s questioning himself. He’d never even thought about loving anyone after Peggy and the two of you have never been anything more than just friends. But as he says it again, swirls your name off his tongue, he knows deep down that he means it.

Steve holds you for the longest five hours of his life before exhaustion finally takes hold of him and drags him into a dizzy and fearful slumber.

----------

When you slip back into consciousness, your senses take time coming back to you. The first thing you feel is skin on yours. You’re naked and warm and Steve is clinging to you for dear life. The smell of sea salt and sweat fill your nose and his fingerprints are tattooed into your skin with how tight he’s holding you.

Dizzy and confused, you blink slowly, as if your body is on a digital lag. Images blur together in your brain and your eyes try to clear them to focus on the here and now, but the frozen reality is mashed up with the memories, not letting you focus on much of either then, or now. With a dull heartbeat, pain pumps through you. That small blip of pain grows and fills you in seconds and suddenly the dizziness multiplies tenfold. Eyes shooting open, your stomach flips and you tear yourself from Steve’s arms, rolling away from him to wretch into the sand.

Steve is alert in an instant, moving your hair out of your face and rubbing a warm hand over your back as you throw up. “Shhh, take it easy,” he coos, watching you heave for air.

Shivering and sobbing, he holds you until you’re done. The burn of bile and acid in your throat is strong enough to rob you of your words, and you shoot him a thankful grimace when he sees the question in your eyes.

“I’ll fill you in on everything in a bit, okay. How do you feel? Other than,” he gestures to the wet sand beside you, “that.”

A pounding in your head has you wincing your eyes shut and curling in on yourself. “Cold,” you rasp. “Pain.”

Broad hands pull you into his side, rubbing up and down along your back and shoulders. “Okay, let’s warm you up a little more, then I can start a fire and find you some water and food.

You nod weakly and curl into his side, tears staining your cheeks as his warmth seeps into your skin.

Though you’re still weak and recovering, Steve waits until he’s sure you’ll be stable before carrying you down the beach and setting you in the sun. He wanders, finding your clothes and shaking it out, slipping his boots and pants back on before helping you to do the same, offering his top to you for extra warmth.

You aren’t strong enough to move but while Steve works on a fire, you spot what looks like a coconut on the ground a few meters away. When the fronds and branches are lit, Steve checks it out and returns with a smile on his face, cracking it open for you and helping you to take sips of the fresh, sweet water inside.

“If there’s one, there’s gotta be more, right?”

He goes to stand but you catch his wrist and stop him. “I still want to talk about what happened,” you remind him, and he nods.

“We will. Let me take care of you first.”

Letting him go, you watch as he walks down the beach then disappears into the trees. He’s gone for just a few minutes and comes back with more wood and fronds, three more coconuts, and a handful of berries, offering them to you and cracking open a coconut for himself when he plops into the sand beside you.

The sun is sinking down on the water, making it look so gorgeous you almost forget that that water nearly killed you just hours ago. Though your surroundings are that of paradise, there’s a tension rolling off of steve that fills your gut with a sense of dread and worry.

“I- I need you to tell me what happened. I need to know everything.”

He heaves in a deep breath and turns to you, a foreign gleam of sadness in his eyes. “What do you remember?”

A flurry of incoherent thoughts flies through your brain and you try your best to recount everything you can. “Honestly, not much. I remember the crash, holding onto the chair and then you pushing me up onto it. From there it’s really a blur. I remember just getting colder and colder. Confused as all hell. Scared. Then I just-” you sigh, rubbing your hands over your face.

Warmth lands on your back as Steve smooths a gentle hand over your shoulders. “It’s okay. You’re okay, now, Y/n.”

You shoot him a grateful smile, eyes watering as you take his hand in both of yours. “I am. Thanks to you.” Pressing a kiss to his knuckles, your heart beats hard in your chest and even as he tries to hide it, you can see the pink hue spread over his cheeks.

“Your eyes,” you finally say, breaking the warm silence. “I remember your eyes.” The haunted sea blue fills your brain, but when you look back at him, the worry he once held is long gone. “I- I was so scared, and I could see that you were, too. And then we were on the beach and I just- everything in my body told me to take my clothes off. That if I did then everything would be okay.” You huff out a sigh. “I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

“You were trying to save yourself, Y/n. It was paradoxical undressing,” he states. “At a certain point victims of severe hypothermia will undress. As your organs shut down your blood vessels stop constricting and the warm blood rushes from your core. You’re already confused and at that point it feels like a hot flash. You feel like you’re burning up so you undresses to cool off. It’s not long after that that people die.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” you groan.

“I’m sorry. Do you remember anything after that?”

Shaking your head, you answer, “Nothing. After that everything was just… black.”

His other hand comes to cradle yours, his long fingers skimming over your pulse point, and he sighs heavily. “Sweetheart, you-”

“I know,” you cut him off. That eerie feeling of falling fills the pit of your stomach and you don’t need to hear him say it to know what happened to you. “I know.” A dry laugh escapes you. “Turns out heaven and hell aren’t real. It’s just nothing.”

The numbness in your voice makes him tense at your side and you’re quiet for a long time. Steve’s presence is strong and he wonders if he should tell you. Tell you the secret he didn’t even know he was keeping until he’d lost you. He wonders if you might have a secret of your own...

Before he can finish his internal battle, you speak up. “It was nothing for a while, then your voice was there. I couldn’t tell what you were saying but I knew I had to use it as an anchor, otherwise I’d slip under again. I had no concept of time or my body or anything, and then I woke up. Naked,” you laugh breathily, and Steve smiles earnestly beside you.

“I knew what had happened and what you had to do, and then I was throwing up.” You shift and turn to look at him fully, take in the lines of worry that seem to have sprouted overnight in the outer corners of his eyes and on his forehead. “Thank you, Steve. Thank you for helping me. For bringing me back, and for keeping me alive.”

When you lean forward and press your lips to his, Steve tenses. You wonder if this is too far and you start to pull back when his hands come up to cradle your face and keep your mouth locked to his.

Stomach doing happy flips, you take a chance and deepen the kiss and are rewarded with a tiny moan falling into your mouth. His beard brushes against your palms and tickles your lips, but you sink into it. It doesn’t feel like desperation or some swell of emotion leading you into his arms. It just feels right.

Before you can build any more, he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours. “You should probably rest,” he says, and you let out a small sigh, knowing that he’s right. He kisses you again, soft and fleeting, then stands.

The fire casts shadows over the sand as Steve stands and treks away from you, silhouette illuminated in the distance while he finds a few more coconuts, nuts and berries, and even a couple of bananas for you to eat.

The two of you sit close the rest of the evening, bodies pressed against one another as the warmth from the fire pushes its fingers through your hair. The treeline offers enough shelter from the elements and Steve manages a small wind block for the two of you to sleep behind for the night. He adds to the burning pile of wood and leaves to make sure it stays lit, then his body curls around yours and you nestle into his chest, enjoying the warmth you find there and the way he hums against your temple as you fall asleep.

Steve stays up, holding you in his arms into the wee hours of the night. The gentle sway of the palms overhead give a beautiful view of the glittering stars, and he only lets go of the dream when you shift and roll onto your other side.

He stands, stretching his limbs and rekindling the fire, making sure it’s large enough to last until morning before sidling up behind you and finally falling asleep with his arm wrapped around your waist.

The sun is just making its presence known when you stir awake, Steve’s body warm where it’s pressed against your back. Gently, you extract yourself from his hold and admire him for a moment before deciding to let him sleep. You’re weak, but you manage to walk along the shore, searching for anything to help the situation you’re both in.

A funny movement catches your eye and you’re filled with excitement at the opportunity. Finding a rock large enough to do the job you quickly snatch up the two crabs and smash them, happy to have some food to take back to Steve. Content with the find, you’re about to turn around when something shiny catches your eye in the distance. Pushing yourself that far takes a bit out of you, but when you stand over the gleaming object, tears spring from your eyes.

Steve is jolted from his sleep at the sound of you calling out for him and he’s on his feet the second he sees you running up the shore toward him. “Y/n wha-”

You cut him off, yelling, “I found it!” Heart threatening to burst from your chest, you fall into his arms and you both sink to your knees. “Look! Look what I found!”

Thrusting the radio component from the chopper into his hands, a delirious giggle bubbles in your throat and before you can say anything else Steve’s arms are wrapped around you and his mouth is crashing into yours, a weightlessness filling your head as you kiss him and laugh into his mouth.

“And I found us food,” you add, dangling the crabs in front of him.

Steve’s smile is brighter than the sun and for the first time since the chopper crashed, you feel true warmth inside you. He sets off into the surrounding area to find more wood for the fire and he crafts tools from what he can, cooking the crab for you both as you fiddle with the wiring and try to make the radio come to life. He keeps the fire going, builds it large enough to signal planes and boats and offers moral support as you work on the small device.

After a few hours you let out a frustrated groan and he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Go ahead, take a break. I mean, I’d offer to help…”

You laugh, then, and lean into his side. “But it seems to run on some form of electricity?”

He chuckles by your side and you take his advice, fading into his warmth and resting a bit before trying again.

It’s mid-afternoon three days after the initial crash when the radio component in your hand flashes blinking lights and fills your ears with static. Heart in your throat, you cling to Steve’s side and radio for help. Static blips on each station until you finally manage to intercept a cargo ship and ask for help.

The thick Boston accent on the other end of the radio puts a smile on your face and Steve rolls his eyes at himself when he asks the captain, “Have you ever heard of The Avengers?”

It’s not long until word travels the wire and Tony’s voice is filtering through the radio in Steve’s hands. “Well, well, well. Serves you right for stopping for a fun island getaway without even inviting the rest of us. I mean, really, Y/n, if you wanted to get the Capsicle alone all you had to do was ask and I would have set it up for you.”

You didn’t even need to see Tony to know the cocky grin adorning his smug face, and if you could have slapped it off through the radio, you would have.

“Quit fuckin’ around, Tony. How long before you can get someone here? Y/n suffered severe hypothermia.” He risks a glance your way and his eyes shine with the truth only the two of you know.

“The jet is already on its way with Helen and Bruce. They should be there in a few hours. Sit tight. We’ll get you guys back home, soon.”

The sincerity carries through Tony’s voice and you sigh happily, leaning into Steve’s side for a moment of utter relief and joy.

----------

Even with his genetically modified body he’d still suffered moderate hypothermia, himself, but in Helen and Bruce’s care back at the compound Steve is fully recovered in less than a day. You, on the other hand, are under careful supervision, even if you feel mostly up to speed. Apparently dying isn’t great for your overall health.

Though you aren’t fond of the constant monitoring, you do find comfort in Steve, who refuses to leave your side.

“You can go, ya know,” you smirk, knowing that he won’t. “I’m fine, now. See?” you wiggle all of your fingers at him and he chuckles.

“What makes you think I’d want to leave you ever again?” he asks, and the tone in the room shifts. His stoic face breaks into a brilliant smile when your heart monitor starts beeping faster. Steve stands and presses a kiss to your warm cheek, shooting a wink your way before making his exit.

An hour later you’re hanging onto Bucky’s arm, shaking your head up at him as he escorts you through the halls towards Steve’s room.

“Don’t blame me for this,” he laughs. “It was his idea and I’m only helping because Helen said it was okay.”

Crossing over the threshold into Steve’s room, you try your best to suppress a smirk. He catches you, though, and you laugh out loud at the set up of monitors and machinery that’s taken over his room.

“I don’t care if you ‘feel fine’,” he air quotes. “They said you needed to be monitored and I volunteered.”

----------

Bucky’s feet are kicked up on the edge of Steve’s bed and his fingers pick at a loose thread on his jeans when he breaks the comfortable silence that had been filling the room since Steve left to find food for you.

“So, uhm, I just want you to know that I’m really happy for you.” Warmth rushes to your cheeks and a charming smile pulls at his mouth. “I mean- I’m happy you’re alive and all… but I’m also happy for you and Steve.”

Clearing your throat, you open your mouth, then stop short. Everything in your body wants to tell him that he’s wrong. He’s made some sort of mistake and all of this is just Steve being nice to his friend. That this is just his nature. But you know that’s a lie and a shy smile blooms on your face when you think back to kissing him on that damned island.

After staring off and getting lost in your own thoughts for a minute or two you finally turn back to him. “I am, too.”

There’s no use denying it, and Bucky chuckles at the truth in your eyes.

A knock on the door breaks the light-hearted moment and Steve stands there with a tray of food and a look in his eyes that tells Bucky it’s time for him to go.

Bucky’s metal hand pats your foot and Steve shoots his friend a thankful smile as he leaves. A few minutes later Bruce pops in to check on you both before you and Steve are finally left alone.

When you’ve both finished eating, Steve urges you closer to him and rubs a calming hand over your arm. “Go ahead and get some rest. I’m right here.”

It isn’t long before you take him up on the offer, and it only takes another few minutes before your steady breathing has him dozing off with you held tight to his chest.

Rain bouncing off the window filters into your ears and you stir awake at the sound of thunder rumbling through the night. Your fuzzy brain wonders if Thor has anything to do with it but before you can think too hard on it Steve shifts beside you.

“Everything okay?” His voice is rasped in a way that fills your gut with warmth and you nod, the dim light in the room glittering in your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you, again, Steve. For everything on the island. And for this.” You gesture to his room and he hums.

“I couldn’t lose you, Y/n,” he admits in a whisper that lands against your temple. “I know we haven’t been romantic in the past, but when I lost you I realized that...” Steve’s voice trails off and his misty eyes meet yours.

Swallowing past a lump in your throat, you say, “Me, too.”

Relief is visible on his face and he leans in to press his mouth to yours, his kiss fanning the flames of the island fires that brought you together.

Marvel tags: @sebbytrash @abaddonwithyall @becs-bunker @curlyblondexoxo @ellen-reincarnated1967 @plaidstiel-wormstache @samsexualdeancurious @saxxxology @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

#steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfic #steve rogers #star spangled bingo #star-spangled-bingo

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ultsoobins · 5 years

Text

and so we march on - CBG

requested:

if you're taking requests, can you do something with beomgyu? maybe he just realizes how much he loves the reader please? thank u ilysm !!

notes:

zombie apocalypse au! some angst, mostly fluff and friendship and love. there’s swearing. got kinda carried away writing it, it’s way longer than i originally meant! i hope y’all like it, i had fun writing it.

summary:

five boys, you, and a bus. also there’s dead people.

“shit,” beomgyu hisses from up above, and your hands still at his tone. you stop tinkering with the radio in your hands just long enough to look up. he rapidly retreats back into the broken-down school bus you’ve all been living in for the past few weeks, closing the emergency exit hatch fluidly as he does.

“what is it?” you ask in a voice barely above a whisper, trying your best to keep the tremor in your voice masked. taehyun echoes you, his words sounding even lower.

“there’s a couple stragglers out by the big tree. they’re a ways off, but there’s no telling if and when they’ll realize there’s breathers here.” beomgyu settles into the bus seat in front of you, wincing as he does so. he stretches his arms out, letting out a grateful groan at the small relief his muscles feel. it’s understandable - his four hour watch shift had extended itself into five, six hours as he’d decided to take over for you to let you keep fiddling with the radio.

“should we shoot ‘em?” yeonjun pipes up from the front, his card game with kai momentarily forgotten. while the elder is distracted, kai switches out some of his cards with the main deck. you disguise your giggle at this as a cough.

“we barely have any bullets left, and we currently only have one of our two guns with properly working silencers.” taehyun responds, wringing his hands. his voice may be stable, void of nervousness, but his actions never are - a byproduct, you suppose, of living during an apocalypse.

the space where your unofficial leader would typically interject is empty, and you realize that you’re all thinking the same thing.

“soobin will get back fine, right?” you question, tugging at the bracelet around your wrist anxiously. “he’s got a good eye, he’s a good shot, and he’s smart as hell.”

“plus, he’s coming in from a different direction than where the zombies are.” kai responds, moments before yeonjun flicks him in the forehead.

“i have peripheral vision, idiot. give me your cards, i’m reshuffling. also, zombie is such a vulgar term. try undead, or something.”

beomgyu mutters an agreement before letting his face get even more serious. you reach over the bus seat, holding your hand out for him to grab. once he does, you squeeze it in an attempt at comforting him.

“he’s also 6’2” and built like a kangaroo. if the zombies -” yeonjun shoots him a look. “the undead are going to spot anyone, it’ll be him.”

“don’t speak it into existence,” you sigh. “he’ll get the gas, and we’ll get the fuck out of here. you just see.”

this time, he squeezes your palm.

“in the meantime,” taehyun diverges. “how’s the radio coming?”

“i’m sure you all heard the static - which means it’s now picking up some signals, at least, but i also fixed the power source. rewired the whole thing to use solar energy.”

“guess those panel bits i found last week worked wonders, huh?” beomgyu grins, and you smile back. you draw your hand back from his, trying your best not to reel from the loss of his warmth. you look around the bus - your current home, you suppose - for a brief moment, taking in the lack of true light in it.

you all have flashlights, sure, and the occasional ray of sunshine will seep through the boards that the six of you fixed over the windows and the black paint you’d swiped over the door. the majority of your light intake comes from whenever the hatch is open and some one’s on watch, and that’s sporadic as it is.

it’s the days that light seeps in, by some miracle, under an entire row of windows that you’ve already come to love.

funny how the sun shines through the end of the world.

you blink, drawing yourself out of your thoughts.

“with a solar panel radio, though, i’m suddenly not a fan of the fact that we have everything boarded up and blacked out.” you point out, and yeonjun groans slightly at the truth in your words. “i think i only need to tweak it a bare amount more for it to catch any signals that are findable, but it isn’t going to work without semi-steady light source.”

“we can probably do something about it, i mean - “ beomgyu is interrupted by a graceless banging against the back door. kai, the only one with his feet in the aisle, gets up, ready to rush towards it.

taehyun quickly juts an arm out, effectively stopping the younger boy.

“we don’t know who it is,” he whispers harshly, and kai steps back. before any of you can open your mouth and ask your safety question, the banging resumes.

“open up!” soobin’s voice calls. none of you move. “fuck, fine,” he pauses. “bang opened his music academy in 2013, that’s where we all met!”

you rush over immediately, swinging the door open. soobin stumbles in, one arm wrapped around a canister of gasoline. the hand attached to the same arm is toting two others. he pulls the door shut with his free hand, making sure that it holds. as he does so, you pull the gun from his makeshift holster, setting it gently with the rest of the weapons stockpile you all have.

“didn’t even wait for me to ask,” the words fall out of your mouth to try and lighten the situation, and soobin lets out a dry chuckle. he shakes his head, taking a moment to gather his thought and his breaths. he’s very evidently been running from something. you move back, settling into the seat beomgyu happens to be in.

before you can apologize and sit back in your own space, he wraps his arms around you. seems like you could both use some comfort right now.

“two undead were out there - one was by the tree and the other was way far out by the tire. the second one was on my ass the moment i came in sight, so i had to put a bullet in its head. i don’t know if the other saw me or not - i booked it.” soobin’s story comes out in pants and is short and sweet and to the point. still, you find yourself tensing. beomgyu’s arms wrap tighter around your body.

“you got the gas though,” taehyun responds, trying to find optimism in the situation. “that’s something.”

kai nods, gesturing vaguely to the canisters before speaking, his words directed towards soobin. “i jump started the battery and all of the systems the moment you left - there’s a bare minimum of gas in the tank now, but it isn’t enough to even get out of this lot. once we pour it in, we should be home free.”

you knock on a wooden window board at his words, just in case.

“who’s going to do it, then?” yeonjun asks, nervousness laced in his words like a poison. it’s obvious that nobody wants to be the one, but it’s obvious that nobody wants any of the others to do it either.

you sigh.

“i will.”

“no-” beomgyu is quick to speak, but you’re quick to quiet him, too.

“i’ll be fine, beom,” you say, shooting him a smile you hope is bright enough to mask your growing fear. after all, the second zombie is still out there.

waiting.

“listen -” he tries again, but you disentangle yourself from his arms in favor of starting the walk out the back door. on your way out, you pick up one of the fuller canisters.

“i’ll be out and in in no time,” you say, and with that you’re out the door and into the day.

or, as it turns out to be, the night. when had the sun set? you aren’t sure. still, you make your way quickly to the fuel tank’s opening, ignoring the weight of the canister and the grimness of the night that envelopes you. it’s once you open the valve and put the mouth of the gas can to the mouth of the tank that you realize you’ve forgotten a weapon.

“shit,” you whisper under your breath.

it’s just as the can empties and you drop it that, suddenly, you feel the hairs on your neck stand up. you whirl around, and upon your eyes meeting another pair you can’t stop the scream that rips out of your throat.

it’s within five meters of you, and, no matter how slow the undead can be, you know that you almost have no time.

that, and your fear is paralyzing you.

its flesh is rotting, and the foul smell overtakes your senses before anything else. as it drags towards you in slow motion, chunks of skin and hair fall off of it, tainting the ground underneath it. one of its eyes has been gauged out, and it barely has any fingers left.

another scream escapes you as your fingers twitch in the air, searching for the weapon that isn’t at your hip. your panic has your senses so dampened that you don’t notice the sound of the emergency escape hatch clicking open, nor do you hear the back door clanging.

even the call of your name, distinctly from beomgyu, is lost on your deaf ears. the zombie drags closer. you close your eyes on instinct, the grotesque creature becoming too much for your senses.

suddenly, a shot rings out, just as a hand tightens around your arm. you jump, screaming once more as you open your eyes to see yeonjun’s fingers pressing into your bicep, and the undead being dead on the ground in front of you.

you glance up.

there, a revolver in his hands and relief in his eyes, leaning out over the emergency exit hatch, stands beomgyu. he lowers the gun only once you make eye contact with him, and doesn’t hesitate at all to hand the gun off to whoever is underneath him, climb out onto the roof, and slide down to meet you on the ground.

the moment he lands, yeonjun lets go of you, stepping back to watch you embrace your savior. as beomgyu wraps his arms around you, feels your tears stain the collar of his worn, torn-up old shirt, he realizes something.

he loves you, and he can’t live without you.

“don’t ever,” he starts, voice breaking at the thought of what could have happened. “don’t ever pull shit like that again, you hear me?” he presses his lips to the crown of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. you clutch at the back of his shirt like a lifeline, your sobs dying down after eons, soaking instead into beomgyu’s clothes.

you eventually step back, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands.

“thank you,” you whisper, and beomgyu shakes his head, letting his hands rest on your hips still. his grip tightens suddenly, and he pulls you back into his arms.

“i love you,” he mumbles, lips right above your ears.

“i love you.” you whisper into his neck.

before either of you can lean in, your lips mere centimeters from his, a voice interrupts.

“can you guys finish this on the bus? soobin’s driving, so we’re dying today anyways. just a little later rather than sooner.”

soobin’s voice follows as you start giggling.

“kai, i swear -”

“what? I’m just telling the - put that board down!”

beomgyu smooths down your hair before moving away from you, opting to lace his fingers with yours instead as he pulls you back onto the bus. you lean into him unconsciously once you both settle into a seat.

“we lived another day,” you say, quietly enough so only he can hear. he grins.

“and we’ll live another tomorrow.”

bonus:

you turn the dial one last time, ignoring the bumps as taehyun drives. it’s been three days on the road, and you’re getting tired of all the false signals and dead ends you’ve been hitting.

before you can dismiss this try as well, however, a distinct noise echoes through the bus.

everyone stops.

“for anyone listening, we repeat, an army base is just outside of south bend off of the interstate near the old local clothing store. we have food, water, clothing, shelter healthcare, and protection. today is april 21st, 2019. for anyone listening, we repeat, an army base is -”

yeonjun is the first to let out a yell of pure happiness, and the rest of you follow soon after. you’re safe. you’ll be safe. all will be well.

in the heat of the moment your best friend - your boyfriend - pulls you close, kissing you with all of the emotion in his body. before you can pull away, he whispers against your lips.

“we’ll live for forever,” he says. you smile, eyes shining with happiness.

“and forever continues tomorrow.”

#beomgyu #txt beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu scenario #beomgyu scenarios #txt #txt imagine #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt angst #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together scenario #tomorrow x together scenarios #tomorrow x together imagine #tomorrow x together imagines #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu angst

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raendown · 5 years

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A commission for @cassieeeeanne, I hope you enjoy!

This is a sequel to a previous commission Backstage Pass.

Pairing: MadaraKakashi Word count: 4111 Rated: E Summary: Kakashi enjoying a bit of Halloween fun leads to a return of the persona that Madara so enjoyed seeing him use onstage - with even better results than last time.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

The Second Act

Madara was tired when he came home, the sort of droopy-eyed tired born more of emotional exhaustion than actual fatigue. He slept surprisingly well the night before and went in to work with high spirits but by the time he’d taken his lunch break he was more than ready to fire every client he worked with and hang up his gym shorts. Sometimes being a personal trainer was the easiest and best job in the world. Other days he questioned why he ever thought he could deal with all these rich yuppies demanding that he melt twenty pounds in three days because they wanted to look good for their cousin’s auntie’s friend’s sister’s wedding shower. Or whatever.

Turning the key to their front door felt like unlocking the gates to paradise. Here at home was the one place he knew he was free from all the petty drama he found at work. Kakashi, at least, had no desire to boss him around. Well, not in the same way his clients did. His partner could boss him around the bedroom any day he wanted to. Madara's sigh was a little tired and a little thoughtful as he closed the door behind himself and reached for the light switch.

Nothing happened. Frowning, he toggled the switch a few times, bashing it once with his fist in the half-hearted hope that it was just a lose wire he could jostle in to place. Still nothing happened. He made a mental note to switch the bulb in the morning in case that was it and moved down the front hall with his fingers tracing the wall to his right. Usually he tried to keep most of his appointments around midday but the client he’d been with today had been with him for a few years now and always tipped generously. The money was enough that he made an exception for their wonky schedule and sometimes, like tonight, ended up working with them at some truly strange times. Now the hour was late enough that their home was pitch black without the hallway light on and he staggered a little drunkenly trying to find his way to the kitchen.

A distant thump nearly made him leap out of his skin, glad there was no one around to see him jumping at shadows in the dark. He was scowling deeper than ever by the time his fingers came across the bulging shape of door trim. Success. Kitchen located. Now all he needed to do was make it to the opposite side of the room where the switch was set just to the side of the door on the far side. That sounded easy.

It should have been. Madara ran in to no less than three chairs and one kitchen island on the way, swearing up a storm both times he managed to stub the same toe. Hopefully Kakashi was either sleeping deeply or just gone to bed because he wasn’t exactly being quiet on his mission to find light. When he finally made it over and felt around for the panel he all but slapped the light switch with great prejudice as though it was personally to blame for the inconvenient location it had been installed in. Nothing happened again. Madara stood blinked in the dark, flicking the switch up and down, almost unable to process what the hell was going on.

Eventually it occurred to him that a fuse must have blown and he wanted to scream. It had been a long ass day and all he wanted was a snack and to wind down for a little while before crawling in to bed with his partner. Going to bed now wasn’t too terrible of an idea but it rankled to have a wrench thrown in his plans like this and now he would have to go down in to their damp smelly basement to deal with the fuse panel first. Definitely not how he wanted to spend the rest of his evening.

He was grumbling to himself again when he made it back out in to the hallway, this time without stubbing his toe again thankfully, but he only made it halfway to the basement door at the other end. Between one step and the next he came very close to wetting himself with fright when a deep voice suddenly thundered in the empty air around him.

“MUAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“SHIT’S FUCKING SAKE, KAKASHI!” One hand flying up to press against his racing heart, Madara staggered until he could press the length of his whole body against the wall for support. “Oh fuck.”

This time the laughter was less booming but no less evil but most worrisome of all was that it came from a different direction. Madara gulped nervously, glad that it was a quiet enough sound not to carry. Sometimes he really hated how much he let love blind him from the fact that he was dating a complete dickhead. Now he was stuck in a dark house, completely sightless without the lights, and he had no idea where his idiot of a boyfriend was.

“Come on Kakashi,” he called. “This isn’t funny!”

“Au contraire,” that deep voice replied from somewhere entirely different again. Madara spun around even though he knew it was pointless to do so. He couldn’t see a thing.

“Stop using that voice,” he grumbled, low enough he hoped his partner couldn’t hear him.

He recognized that voice, of course. That wasn’t the way Kakashi usually spoke when he was just being himself, it was the voice he’d used on stage last year in the first play Madara had ever let himself get dragged to. Theater really wasn’t his thing but watching Kakashi ham up the unrepentant villain act with that sonorous booming cackle, well, it had done things to him.

And it was doing things to him now too. He could already felt his pants tightening as certain parts of him rose to attention embarrassingly quick. It was just a laugh, he told himself. He shouldn’t find it so hot. Yet still he couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine as he heard scurrying in the dark and another dark chuckle echoed from somewhere behind him. Madara wasn’t sure whether he wanted to kiss his partner or kill him but either way he really did not appreciate these mind games. Nor did he appreciate having to walk around the house with his pelvis tilted back for fear of bumping in to something with the bulge in front of his jeans.

Tired as he had been when he came home, the adrenaline of their little game had him feeling much more awake now and Madara wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not yet. Every time Kakashi laughed it came from a new direction, leaving Madara spinning circles, and with each circle he turned he only became more frustrated and more aroused until he was left an utterly confused mess of a man.

So of course that was when his partner chose to pounce.

“BOO!”

The scream that ripped up out of Madara's throat was both embarrassing and a full two octaves above any notes he’d ever achieved before. A deep silence echoed throughout the house as the scream faded, he and Kakashi each standing utterly still, eyes wide where they stood facing each other. Kakashi hung suspended in the position he had assumed to jump out and frighten his partner with, both hand lifted in to the shape of claws.

One heartbeat passed. Two. A single puff of startled laughter slipped out and then it seemed as though the seal had been broken. Kakashi dissolved in to helpless peals of laughter. Madara watched the man nearly fold in half with mirth and waited, his own lips pursed, entirely unimpressed. If he’d known that his beloved partner was going to terrorize and embarrass him when he came home tonight then he wouldn’t have come home at all; he was always welcome to crash at Hashirama's of an evening. His silence was noted quickly but it still took several minutes for the other man to calm down enough to speak in proper sentences.

“Aw come on, don’t pout like that! It’s Halloween tomorrow! I’m an actor! You can’t expect me not to do some character work on Halloween!”

“That’s wasn’t even a character!” Madara snapped, folding his arms and leaning away. “That was just you being an asshole!”

“I’m always an asshole, it’s what you like about me.” Kakashi grinned to finally have a chance to throw that particular admission back in his face but Madara only scowled a little deeper. He’d never been a large fan of having to eat his own words.

After running through a few different responses in his head he settled on, “I’m going to bed.”

“What? No! Hey, you liked it when I did that laugh in the play you came to a few months back. Remember?” Reaching out to catch him before he could run away, Kakashi ran both hands up and down his biceps comfortingly.

“That was different!”

“How?”

“I don’t know!” Madara turned his head away to pout again. “It was…it was the whole act you had going on. You weren’t jump scaring me, you were just being all…”

When he couldn’t find the words Kakashi leaned forward to kiss him hard on the mouth, pulling away just far enough to whisper, “Dominant?”

The dark tone of his voice alone would have been enough to have Madara shivering but the implications in that single word nearly melted him in his socks. That was exactly what he’d enjoyed about the last time he heard that voice, the sheer dominance and the way it not only made Madara want to submit but made him truly enjoy it. He was a man used to being in control. Kakashi should consider himself lucky that he was one of the few able to topple that habit.

“Keep going,” Madara whispered. He knew exactly what he was signing up for asking the man to continue but since certain parts of him were already growing quite interested he might as well get something good out of this.

“You want me to keep going?” Kakashi asked in a voice like low rasping thunder. “I can keep you going all night long but the real question is: would I grant you mercy? Hm? I think I would rather make you beg for it.”

He’d almost managed it last time, though Madara had held out in the end. A point of both pride and regret. Sometimes he wondered how much better it would have been if he’d been able to let go the way he did in his most private fantasies but whenever he thought about bringing those fantasies to life it made him want to curl up in to a ball of shame. Not that the shame dampened his want in any way, just made it harder for him to voice what he desired.

As Kakashi whispered all sorts of depraved ideas for how they could spend the night hours together he slipped in behind Madara and took hold of his hips to march him forward, leading him up the stairs and towards their bedroom in such a way that gave the illusion of allowing Madara to move on his own yet the grip on his waist served as a sexy little reminder that he was not under his own control anymore. It was more thrilling than it had any right to be and much more subtle than Kakashi’s usual sort of move. He had definitely slipped deep in to this persona of his.

In the bedroom Madara gulped as he was led towards their massive bed – then yelped in surprise as he was all but tossed on to it, landing face down with Kakashi’s weight already settling in between his thighs.

“Mm, I do like you like this. Face down for me, on your knees like a good boy, ready to follow my every command. Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

“Y-yes.” Madara licked his lips then peeked over his shoulder to amend his statement. “Probably.”

“Not good enough, pet,” Kakashi growled.

He lifted his hand and the fact that Madara was looking back at him was the only warning he got before suddenly his ass was stinging from a sharp blow. It was so unexpected he had no time to stop the pathetic moan that slipped up his throat and out between gritted teeth.

“Oh my, did we find that pleasurable?” The hand that struck him soothed over the cheek that now throbbed pleasantly as Kakashi leered at him. “Let’s see how much you can take.”

Before Madara knew it he was pressing his face in to the pillows and howling as Kakashi’s hand came down against his ass again and again with such force that it stung even through the barriers of his clothing. He could only imagine how much better it would be if his skin had been bare and the thought had him moaning like a filthy whore. He should not have found the embarrassment of that so thrilling.

“Just as I thought. You can dish it out but you just can’t take it quietly, can you? Tsk tsk. We’ll have to train you up a little better than this, hm?”

“Gods. Train me? I-I’m not a dog,” Madara protested weakly.

“No but you’ll bark if I tell you to,” Kakashi corrected him, that dark tone coming back in the most delicious way.

All Madara could do was nod in agreement. He remembered how wound up he’d been last time, hanging on to his dignity by a handful of threads. Now Kakashi knew exactly how to get to him and take him apart. There was no doubt in his mind that if his partner really put in the effort to bring him up high enough Madara would beg, borrow, or steal whatever was necessary to earn that final push over the edge.

When he was finally allowed to rest it wasn’t for long as Kakashi pulled him upright to sit in seiza, ankles digging in to his sore bottom, and keep him still so that pale hands could undress him. That was almost just as good as the unexpected spanking somehow. Even though he knew it was more to show that Kakashi was in control of him it made him feel pampered and desired like this whole scene had been carefully crafted for his benefit alone and that warmed something deep inside, something he didn’t have time to identify.

Once his top half was naked Kakashi’s hands slipped around to undo his pants and pull them down just far enough that his reddened cheeks were exposed. Then Madara found himself being pulled back in to the other man’s lap and instructed to remove the rest of his clothing himself. Not the hardest instructions he’d ever had to follow.

“Let’s see if you can keep up the good behavior. I want you to fetch the lube for me and then I want your face in the sheets, arms above your head, and I want that pretty little ass in the air where I can see it.” Kakashi gave him one more light swat to the thigh as though to punctuate his sentence.

Despite his inner manta to stay calm Madara found himself all but lunging across the bed to scrabble for the drawer where they kept a few different kinds of lube. Since Kakashi hadn’t specified which one he assumed it was his choice, an advantage he used to pick the warming lubricant. Cold liquid against his backside was never very pleasant. Once he’d delivered the small tube he bent forward to press his face against the mattress and pushed his arms above his head like the stretches he did every morning, a comfortable position to open up some muscles but not something he expected would feel good during the pressures of sex. He would just have to trust that his partner knew what he was doing.

As it turned out, he did. Kakashi gave no warning at all before pressing the first slick finger inside and Madara was glad to have his hands up far enough that the slats of their headboard were within easy reach, fingers closing around them with a tight grip as he gasped in to the cotton sheets.

“So tight,” Kakashi murmured. “We’ll need much more room if you want to fit me inside. Do you want that, pet?”

“Yes, please, I want that.”

His partner kissed the base of his spine but Madara groaned more for the finger that pressed even deeper inside. Rocking his hips back and forth was a motion so natural he did it without thinking, only grateful after the fact that Kakashi allowed him to do so because it felt incredible. There was something about fucking himself on to fingers or his partner’s cock that felt thrilling in a way, almost naughty. It only got better when a second finger slipped in as he pressed back, again without warning, this time drawing out a startled gasp and fingers clenching even tighter around the wooden slats.

By the time he was stretched to his partner’s content time had lost all meaning and Madara's ass had taken another spanking just because Kakashi said red was such a fetching color of his skin. He’d been right about one thing. The lack of clothing between his ass and the hand cracking down on him felt so much better.

A quiet whimper of protest slipped out when the fingers inside him pulled away but Madara did his best to muffle the sound and, with great effort, uncurled his fingers from the headboard. His shoulders ached when he brought them down to clutch at the blankets by his face instead. Thankfully he wasn’t given enough time to dwell on any temporary aches as something thick and blunt pressed against his entrance and he exerted every last ounce of strength in his body to restrain himself from pressing backwards with a needy whine.

“Someone’s very well behaved tonight,” his lover praised him, rocking forward just enough for him to feel the pressure but not enough to slip inside.

“I promised–” The words choked in his throat until Madara clenched his teeth and forced them out. “I promised to be a good boy.” He was fairly sure he’d never utterly a more shameful sentence in his life but the promised reward was more than worth it. Shivers wracked him when Kakashi groaned openly in response.

“You did; that you did. And you’re doing so well for me. You deserve a reward for that, I think, so just hold still and let me fuck you in to the mattress like we both know you want me to.”

He gave no more warning than that. Madara's jaw was dropping open to shout his pleasure in to the bedsheets a moment later as Kakashi drove inside of him with one quick snap of the hips. Nothing ever felt quite like this. Not just the sensation of being filled, not even just knowing it was his most precious person inside of him touching all the places no one else would ever touch again. What truly let him detach his mind and just enjoy the sensations wracking his body was the feeling of Kakashi over him, pinning him down, controlling his movement with touch and voice. It was the safety of knowing he would always be well taken care of in another’s hands that made him comfortable enough to scream as that hot cock slammed in to him again.

“That’s it pet, tell me how good it feels, tell the whole neighborhood exactly who you belong to.”

Madara's answer was a string of expletives that broke down in to a moaning shout of his partner’s name when Kakashi changed the angle. The sensations filling him with fire had already been amazing but this? Incredible. Nothing existed for him outside the deep commanding voice murmuring praise and urging him to keep making the noises falling from his lips in a helpless constant stream.

Considering the fact that he’d been hard before they ever made it to the bedroom and ready to explode before he was out of his clothing it wasn’t surprising that Madara could feel himself teetering near the edge after only a couple of minutes. Stamina and pride be damned, he needed the high about to crash down over him like he needed oxygen in his lungs.

“I – fuck, there – I’m clo- need- please! Please, shit, I’m so- I need to- Kakashi!” The words broke apart in his mouth but he knew his point had gotten across when his partner added an extra snap to his hips.

“Don’t you dare,” Kakashi grunted. “You’re not allowed to come until I say so.”

“Please! Gods fucking please, I need it!”

“Shit, just listen to you. You’ve gotten so much better at begging.” Even Kakashi’s voice sounded hoarse and ruined, panting through the effort and the pleasure between them.

Madara bit the sheets underneath them and howled but he managed to hang on and that, apparently, was just the sort of obedience that he needed to show. If he’d had the breath left in his chest he would have purred to feel a hand wrap itself up in his hair and carefully pull his head back until he could no longer muffle himself in the bedding.

“Alright now. Come for me, pet,” Kakashi commanded.

And like a good boy Madara did as he was told. It was hard to tell whether he was shaking from the orgasm or the relief but Kakashi held him through it and that was all that mattered, warm hands to hold him together even as he fell apart. His partner must have come too but it registered on Madara's fogged senses as a distant shout as he bent all of his concentration on not passing out in a puddle of his own release.

When the room stopped spinning he found himself on his side with Kakashi’s legs tangled in his own and a hand stroking up and down his side in a soothing pattern. A deep voice murmuring against the base of his neck drew him out of his head and back to reality where he realized he was still shivering and pressed himself back against the other’s body.

“Back with me?” Kakashi asked.

“Yeah. Holy shit.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He could practically hear the smugness in his partner’s voice, already fallen back to his usual drawl rather than the sonorous voice of whatever character he’d been acting as. Delightfully and delicious fun as their little scene had been Madara was happy to hear him as he should be again, the same rasp he’d fallen in love with.

That didn’t stop him from reaching back to weakly smack the idiot on his thigh.

“Don’t, your ego doesn’t need to be any bigger than it already is.”

“Maa, but you did enjoy yourself, yes?”

“If you couldn’t deduce that on your own,” Madara said, “then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“So is that your too-embarrassed-to-say-it way of telling me that you’d like to do that kind of scene again sometime? You seemed to particularly enjoy the spanking.” Kakashi nipped at the back of his shoulder and Madara huffed.

He considered denying it but after a moment he recognized that he honestly did not have the energy to. Instead he let his head sink down in to the pillow and closed his eyes to say, “Yeah. Let’s do it again sometime.”

“Mm. Sleep now?”

“Yeah.”

“I still need to go down to the basement and switch the breakers back on.”

Madara cracked one eye back open. “What.”

“That’s how I made the house is so dark,” Kakashi said. “I switched all the breakers off. Now I’ll need to turn them back on if we want the heater to kick in during the night.”

“Go sleep on the couch. I don’t like your face anymore.”

As he listened to his partner laugh uproariously, not taking him seriously at all, Madara decided that now was as good a time as any to start plotting revenge. He might be very interested in getting tied down himself but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do the same to his partner first and take his time with some slow delicious torture. That sounded fun to him.

It certainly made an excellent little bedtime story to tell himself as he drifted off to sleep.

#rae writes #commission #madakaka #madara #kakashi #fanfiction #modern au

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solohux · 5 years

Note

Ben gets stolen away by the First Order against his will, and Poe is running in to save him! (Maybe Ben isn't that strong as a Jedi yet, or Hux is simply doing vile things to him) (if this is ABO or not is up to you

i can feel you across the stars (1700 words, read on AO3)

“Hey, sleeping beauty. Hey, shhh. C’mon. We need to head back. Your Uncle will be wondering where you’ve got to.”

Ben smiles as he emerges into wakefulness, woken by the gentle sounds of Poe’s voice and the feeling of his familiar hand stroking through his hair. He opens his eyes slowly, expecting to be blinded by the bright Yavin IV sunshine that he fell asleep in but it’s almost dark, the sun barely shining through the gracefully lush canopy of the forest. The sounds of birds fade into the distance as they nestle in for the evening though the creek that he and Poe have napped beside still flows with a peaceful trickling sound.

“Ten more minutes,” Ben mutters, snuggling back down into the soft blanket that’s spread out underneath them. “Just…not yet.”

He looks to Poe, beside him, and finds himself unable to close his eyes. In the warm orange glow of the sunset, Poe looks more handsome than Ben has ever seen him. His honey-coloured eyes hold so much emotion that Ben feels it radiating from him through the Force, coming through in drips and drabs but there, nonetheless, unmistakably love.

“I’m not getting into trouble with Luke for making you late to meditation again,” Poe laughs, smiling, and Ben can’t help but smile in return at the sight.

“I don’t want to leave,” Ben says, suddenly feeling sad. “Something...Something feels so right about this.”

“About us?”

“Yeah.”

“I know,” Poe leans in, kissing the tip of Ben’s nose. “I…”

“I love you,” Ben can’t help it. He’s said those words before he can bite his tongue and remind himself that they’re still teenagers, still under the laws of their parents. Poe is his best friend, and Ben is certain that those three little words have just lost him forever—

“I know that, too,” Poe replies. His hand cups Ben’s cheek, brushing over his freckles. “I love you more, Ben Solo. More than you’ll ever know.”

Poe’s words echo inside of Ben’s mind as he wakes from his dream, certain that he can still feel his hand on his cheek and the soft blanket beneath him, the gentle flow of the Temple’s creek. And for a moment, he allows himself to smile, opening his eyes whilst expecting to see Poe lying beside him, but instead, is greeted by the four walls of his holding cell.

He isn’t sure which star destroyer he’s on anymore: he’s been drugged and moved around so many times that he’s lost track of the First Order’s ships. The Force-suppression collar around his neck, too, means that he’s out of touch with everything he’s ever known. Even from a young age, Ben has been able to latch onto the minds of the ones he loves—he recalls how his mother talked about how she felt him before he was even born—and communicate with them, even across massive distances from one side of the galaxy to the other. For years, Ben found comfort in Poe’s mind; so calming and happy. It became a reflex to reach out to him when he felt troubled, and Poe welcomed it, but now everything is silent, drowned out by the collar around his neck.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” comes the familiar cold, clipped tone of General Hux as he enters the heavy, sliding door of Ben’s cell; the four grey walls, his bed, a table & chair, a datapad that’s filled with blocks and censors, limiting his browsing. “It’s moving day.”

“What?” Ben is shocked; he hasn’t been in this cell for very long, a few weeks, maybe. For the first year of his capture, he was in the same cell, never moved. Yet, over the last three years, he’s been moved countless times. Maybe the Resistance are close to finding him, maybe Poe is—

“The Supreme Leader requests your presence. It is, after all, your twentieth birthday today.”

Birthday? Ben had forgotten all about his birthdays. He can’t track the days, after all, and the months have all blurred whilst in captivity. His thoughts about how he spent his last birthday with his padawan comrades, his family and his precious Poe don’t stay in his mind for long, however, too troubled by the fact that Snoke wants to see him. He’s seen the Supreme Leader only thrice before; one upon his capture, the second after one of Hux’s intense interrogation sessions, and the third—

Ben feels bile come into his mouth. Since the beginning, Snoke had made it clear that he would go to any length to get the grandson of Darth Vader on his side, kneeling at his feet in the role of his attack dog, his apprentice. On every occasion, Ben has denied, spitting at the vile Leader, promising that he will finish what Anakin started; eliminating the creatures that lurk in the darkness. The coming pain had been unbearable; Force lightning, an assault on his mind that felt as though every one of his happy memories was being poisoned, especially the ones so emotionally charged, the ones of Poe.

“I’ll never join him,” Ben says, growling. He stands up from his cot, matching Hux’s height, his grey scrubs mirrored by the General’s dark uniform. “Or you. Any of you.”

Hux’s stern demeanour doesn’t falter. His gaze burrows into Ben’s skull as though trying to intimidate but it fails; Ben, like his mother before him, would never be intimidated by small Imperials in uniform.

“We’ll see, Solo,” Hux smirks, setting a hand on Ben’s cheek, grazing his gloved thumb across the fading freckles on Ben’s pale cheeks. “We’ll see.”

Ben jerks his cheek away, scowling. He wants to rip Hux’s arm from its socket, punch and kick him until he’s taking back everything he’s ever said and done to hurt Ben—but Ben sits down on his bunk, breathing deeply and thinking of the calm that he once found in Poe’s mind. Despite not being able to feel it, he remembers how it felt to be so connected to someone who meant so much to him, and it centres him.

“I love you more, Ben Solo. More than you’ll ever know.”

Ben sighs, shuddering as the colourless gas begins to floor his cell to knock him out, make him pliant and fightless for his transport to Snoke. He lies down, sending his mind back to his dream, to the memory of waking up beside the creek, beside Poe, when the only danger they faced was one of Uncle Luke’s scowls for arriving home late. Ben touches his cheek, rubbing it, certain that he feels Poe’s hand on his skin.

And as unconsciousness takes him, Poe is still, and forever, at the centre of his thoughts. No amount of pain or darkness will ever separate them. Not even death will stop him from being with Poe, with his love: his grandfather taught him that.

But little does Ben know that he’s being transported to Snoke’s ship because it’s the Destroyer with the highest amount of security, the one least likely to be attacked and boarded. Poe Dameron, Black Leader, and his squadron of rebels have taken down two small star destroyers in the last three months in the galaxy-wide search for Ben. They’re getting closer.

The Supreme Leader is afraid of them, Poe is certain. He can still hear Ben’s screams inside his head as he was hit with an electric baton before being caught in an energized net, one that completely disabled his powers and forced him into unconsciousness. The attack on the temple was terrible; Poe and Ben had thought it to be a malicious assault on the Jedi, perhaps someone with a vendetta against Luke, but when the Stormtroopers and mercenaries had begun to target Ben, focussing on weakening him before subduing him with the electric net as though he was some sort of animal, Poe had realised all too late that someone was after Ben.

Presently, in the silence of his cockpit in the Resistance hangar bay, Poe idly touches the controls, staring at a photograph of Ben that he keeps with him at all times, either inside of his X-Wing cockpit or on the inside pocket of his flight suit. He wonders how much Ben will have changed in four years. Will the First Order have forced him to cut his hair? Has he grown into his wide frame? Or has he grown thinner with the neglect? In Poe’s dreams, he and Ben are still teenagers, spending hours down by the creek, stealing time away from Ben’s Jedi studies to climb trees and swap stories, play games, talk about their future.

‘We’ll be the best team that the galaxy has ever seen,’ Poe had promised, sat high up in a tree with Ben, their legs dangling down, not a care in the galaxy to bother them. ‘No one will be able to stop us. I’ll always have your back.’

Poe punches the control panel in anger, feeling more useless than ever. He’s so close that he can almost feel Ben beside him, inside of his mind—wait. For a fleeting moment, Poe feels the familiar brush of Ben’s mind against his own, like a weight inside of his head that makes him feel certain of himself, confident and strong. He sits up, staring at Ben’s photo, swearing that he sees him blink.

“Ben? Ben, is that you?” Poe jerks forward in his seat, taking hold of the photo. “I’m here, shit, I’m right here—”

But he gets no reply and, soon enough, the feeling is gone in another second, leaving him alone and empty again. So empty.

He won’t stop until he and Ben are at that creek again, resting on that blanket in each other’s company until the sun sets and they go home together. He’s so close, he can feel it, sense it.

Ben is with him.

#benpoe #darkpilot #tw mentions of torture #m:writing

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azvolrien · 4 years

Text

An Evening at Castle MacArra

Despite his plot importance, I didn’t really give Daro a lot of ‘screentime’ in Water Horses; the focus was more on Asta and Roan’s relationship with him more in the background as a reason for Asta to be out there. Despite that, I still wanted to look a bit more at what he’s like when he’s not in a highly stressful situation.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still an unambiguously terrible person; he’s just a lot more relaxed about it.

~~~

Castle MacArra gleamed in the evening sun. Once a simple defensive keep, its place atop the broad ridge above Loch Gorm had left it with plenty of room to expand, and over centuries of peace the clan had built it up and out into an elaborate palace that, nevertheless, still showed its military bones in the imposing solidity of its walls and the raised battlements along the edges of the rooftops. Round turrets with steep conical roofs perched at each corner of the great house, and crowsteps decorated each of the gables. The long driveway, lined with ancient, spreading winter trees, swept right up to the huge front door before curving around to a wide stable-yard and other outbuildings to one side. A sturdy porch at the base of a high square tower of grey granite sheltered the door itself from the worst of the Sea Lochs’ weather, with the striking-eagle crest of Clan MacArra carved in relief above each of its three open archways. To the south, the Kingsferry Bridge stretched across the north fork of the loch to Duncraig, where the city lights were beginning to come on from the docks at the lochside up to the Imperial Governor’s residence on the summit of Fort Crag.

Maggie leant out of the carriage window and tried to take it all in.

“I wouldn’t normally be taking family along on something like this,” said Ruairidh from the opposite seat, leafing through his notes. “But – it is on the way up to Kinlochdubh, the roads aren’t really safe for you to travel by yourself at this time of year, and when Lady Fenella MacArra asks you to attend her… Well, you attend. Hopefully they won’t mind if I leave you in a sitting room somewhere while I speak with the Lady.”

“I’m twenty, Uncle Ruairidh,” Maggie reminded him. “You don’t need to find me a babysitter any more.”

“All the same – chances are they won’t want you wandering around by yourself.”

The heavy front door swung open as the carriage reached the porch, revealing the sternest-looking woman Maggie had ever seen. She was about fifty in age with the pale skin typical of the Sea Lochs, while her greying brown hair was tied into a neat bun at the nape of her neck and her floor-length dress was a deep, rich shade of red decorated with intricate embroidery. A man and a woman flanked her, much younger but with a clear family resemblance both to her and each other. Both wore riding trousers and fine linen shirts, though the man had left the lacing at his collar loose.

“Um… Ruairidh?”

“Lady MacArra is the one in the middle,” he quickly explained. “The other two are Lord Darius and Lady Eilidh, her children.”

Lady MacArra lifted one hand and clicked her fingers. Immediately, a slave in a brass collar and a long woollen tunic belted with a length of rope scurried forwards to open the carriage door and unfold the steps, before he quickly stood back and dropped to one knee on the gravel to let Ruairidh and Maggie out, bowing his head.

“Thank you,” said Maggie. His only response was to bow even harder. She frowned and hurried after her uncle.

“Lady MacArra,” said Ruairidh, bowing much less deeply. “My name is Ruairidh Drummond; I received your request for legal advice and came as soon as I could.”

Lady MacArra just nodded. “And this young lady?”

“My niece Margaret. She’s studying at the university in Duncraig; my brother asked me to accompany her back to their home in Kinlochdubh for the winter festivities. Dangerous roads, you know.”

Lady MacArra nodded again. “Your concern is admirable; hopefully this will not take long. Daro, Eilidh – escort Miss Drummond to the south drawing room and see that she’s comfortable. You.” She clicked her fingers again. The slave got to his feet, eyes still fixed on the ground. “Take their carriage around to the stable yard.” He bobbed in a quick, awkward bow, caught the hefty draft-construct by its bridle, and led it away. Lady Eilidh leant forwards very slightly to watch him go, before she stepped forwards to offer Maggie her arm.

“They’ll be hashing the details out for hours,” she said as Ruairidh and Lady MacArra disappeared down a passageway. “Don’t worry, Daro and I will see you’re kept entertained; the south drawing room is this way.”

Maggie followed the two siblings up a grand staircase and along a wide corridor, the walls lined with paintings of various ancestors, to a comfortable wood-panelled room on the south corner of the castle. Plush armchairs gathered around a low table of carved rosewood, while a fire roaring in a hearth big enough to roast a pig drove back the chill outside. A chess set abandoned mid-game sat on the table, half-concealing a beautiful pattern made from inlays of paler wood, while the last wall was taken up by shelves of books and a detailed tapestry of a hunting scene. Somewhat gingerly, Maggie picked a chair and sat down. Lady Eilidh flopped down in another.

Lord Darius lifted a crystal decanter from one shelf. “Can I offer you a wee dram?” he asked. “Glenmara fifty-year single malt.”

“That’s very kind, Lord Darius, but I – I don’t sleep well if I drink spirits.”

“Please, call me Daro,” he said, pouring two fingers of whisky for himself and his sister into fine cut-glass tumblers. “‘Lord Darius’ is just a name on a legal document.”

“And ‘Eilidh’ is just fine over here,” she added, taking the glass Daro handed her. Daro placed his own glass on a coaster on the table and artfully draped himself across a chair. Maggie stole a glance at him. He was a well-favoured man, a little over six feet in height with a lean, athletic build, a strong jaw, and striking blue eyes with a beauty mark just below the outer corner of the left one.

“He’s too old for you, you know,” said Eilidh with a knowing grin. Maggie blushed and turned her gaze to the fire.

Daro sipped his whisky and gave his sister a sour look. “I am twenty-eight years old.”

“See? Ancient.”

“You’re twenty-seven!”

“So, is it law you’re studying, like your uncle?” asked Eilidh, ignoring him.

“Oh, no, that’s a can of worms I’d rather stay out of,” said Maggie. “I’m studying biology. Though Uncle Ruairidh does have some interesting stories to tell – what is it he’s advising for, do you know? Oh, no, sorry – that’s none of my business.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Daro. “It’s all to do with our late grandmother’s will.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

He shrugged. “We weren’t especially close – but there was some property of hers I had my eye on. She had other ideas, though, so the officials over in Duncraig have locked everything up while we sort out this unfortunate legal snag.”

“It’s a disgrace it’s taken this long, really,” said Eilidh. “Among other things, it means South Craig – our grandmother’s house in the city – is just lying empty.” She lifted her glass in a decidedly sarcastic toast. “All because you just couldn’t live without one more slave.”

Something inside Maggie’s head came to an abrupt halt and she stared at the fire for several seconds, completely frozen, before she tried to compose her face into an expression that did not imply internal screaming. Probably best not to openly berate the rich, powerful and physically-stronger siblings in their own home.

Eilidh clearly took it for a look of polite interest. “You see, despite those big baby blues, my brother has quite the weakness for pretty slave girls,” she said, not without a certain exasperated affection.

“Oh, like you haven’t had your share of the men,” said Daro. “I saw you checking out that stable-boy just now.”

“My point is that I take all the right precautions!” said Eilidh. “Whereas I swear half the little bastards whelped down in our slave barracks are yours.”

“Only half?” said Daro with a cheeky grin. “Besides, that’s why I had my eye on this one – I mean, almost any of them will do if all you want is a bedwarmer for the night, but you’re always getting at me to just pick one and leave the rest to their chores. This one of Grandmother’s, she’s proper companion material, the kind I could also have on my arm at a function, you know? She was some kind of minor noble in the Imperial City before she fell into slavery, so she’ll have a much better idea of the elegance expected of her for that than…” he waved one hand, “…the usual type. Yes, she’ll do very nicely.”

“Been sampling, have you?” teased Eilidh.

“Och, you know what Grandmother was like,” he said. “I did steal a kiss once when I got the chance, but that was as much as I managed.” He lifted his glass up to eye level to study the amber liquid. “I’ll certainly have to make up for lost time.”

“Did this woman… like kissing you?” stammered Maggie, trying not to sound too openly incredulous.

Daro shrugged again, smiling. “Well, I am quite good at it, if I say so myself.”

“Like you’ve ever been with a woman who would tell you otherwise,” said Eilidh. “Don’t make any solid plans yet,” she advised. “You don’t know how they’ll rule at the hearing tomorrow – and even if they do decide you can have her, what kind of attitude is she likely to have after living in Grandmother’s household? She’ll need some careful discipline before you can ‘make up for lost time’.”

“That’s what the whipping post is for,” said Daro in a tone of utmost reason. Eilidh nodded acknowledgement of the point.

“You see,” she added to Maggie, “our grandmother had some funny ideas about slavery. She was downright furious when our mother got into the trade, went off on a tirade about how our ancestors had made their fortune honestly and that she and her own parents had gone up to the Governor himself to protest the establishment of more markets in Duncraig, and… Well, you get the idea. Of course, Mother was unmoved, so Grandmother as much as said that while she might not be able to stop her from spending the family’s money on the trade, she would never let her own be used for it and stormed off. She never set foot in Castle MacArra again after that. That’s why it came as such a surprise when we learned she’d made a certain purchase in the Imperial City and brought the girl back to South Craig.”

“We thought she’d finally come to her senses,” said Daro. “I rode down to the city to check the lie of the land, and…” He became very interested in the pattern on his glass.

Eilidh laughed. “Grandmother tore a strip off him when she caught him kissing the slave, kicked him out, and told him never to come back to South Craig while she drew breath.”

“You might have spotted the loophole there,” said Daro dryly. “But by the time I got back to the house after she died a few years later, the magistrates had already taken possession of everything while the will was sorted out. Hence our current situation.” He knocked back the last of his whisky and placed the glass on the table. “Still,” he went on, a hint of resentment entering his voice, “she didn’t even wait until the girl was out of earshot before scolding me. I don’t think I’ve been so humiliated since the hunting accident.”

He clearly wasn’t going to elaborate on that, so his sister gleefully did. “The way he said that makes it sound much more dramatic than it really was,” said Eilidh. “Our father – gods guide his spirit – took us both boar-hunting once when we were teenagers. Daro tripped while carrying one of the spears and sliced the side of his neck open on the blade.”

“It was quite dramatic,” Daro protested, turning his head to reveal a thin, ragged white line of scarring along the right side of his neck. “It nearly killed me!”

“No, it didn’t. If you were going to bleed out from that cut it would’ve killed you before you got to the healer.”

Daro muttered to himself and hunched lower in his chair.

“Gods, I hope the magistrates let him have the girl,” said Eilidh, shaking her head. “We’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.”

Maggie, wide-eyed, arranged her features into something resembling a smile.

It was another half-hour before a slave arrived to meekly tell them that Ruairidh was ready to leave. If Eilidh and Daro noticed how awkward Maggie’s small talk had become, they were too polite to mention it, and they escorted her back down to the waiting carriage.

“We won’t make it all the way back to Kinlochdubh tonight,” said Ruairidh as the construct hauled the carriage back down the driveway towards the main road. “There’s a coaching inn at the foot of the mountain pass road – we’ll stop there for the night and cross over the hills in daylight.”

Maggie nodded, staring into the darkness outside the window. “They told me what you were advising about,” she said without looking at her uncle. “About their grandmother’s will.”

“Yes, it does seem a thorny situation,” said Ruairidh. “But I think they’ll get matters sorted out properly.”

“Did she tell you… exactly what property Daro – Lord Darius, I mean – wanted?”

“Ah – no, now that you mention it. She explained that her mother had taken a strange dislike to Darius, and wanted advice on how best to express that when they attended the hearing. Why?”

“I…” Maggie held her mouth open for a few seconds. “…Never mind. Let’s just… get to that inn.”

~~~

You know, for all their flaws as human beings... they do have a really nice house. Though somehow whenever I try to imagine a Fantasy Scottish mansion, I always just end up picturing Dunrobin Castle.

(’Ruairidh’ and ‘Eilidh’ are pronounced ‘Roorie’ and ‘Aylie’ respectively.)

#az writes stories

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buckywintersoldierbarnes2017 · 7 years

Text

I should have been there.

Request from anon: I'd like to request Bucky x reader where she's like 13/14 and he found her inside a hydra base while on a mission. She's terrified at first of everything but warms up. Tony traces her DNA to figure out who her family is and they find out she's Buckys. Hydra had him breed with a mutant to create a new asset and she's the final result.

Note: I’m so sorry! I got COMPLETELY carried away with this. Unfortunately there isn’t loads where the reader is actually awake but I really hope I did your request justice with what I wrote <3

Bucky x Daughter!Reader

Words: 2,602

Warnings: Swearing, flashbacks, mentions of what could be deemed as rape. I think that’s all. If I have missed anything let me know!

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine so all credit goes to their creators <3

There were rumours that Hydra had a secret compound over in England, one of the few countries that hadn’t been overrun by them yet, and although there wasn’t a mountain of evidence to support the rumours there was enough for Shield to ask for the help of The Avengers.

The journey over in the jet was long and one of members of the team in particular was beginning to grow rather restless.

“They have shield agents in London right….so why are we having our arses dragged over here?”

Bucky was never the most enthusiastic when it came to dealing with Hydra, knowing that the smallest of slip ups could cause him to become their prisoner once more, and if that happened all the memories he had managed to gain back would be gone and he would know of nothing but his murderous ways The Winter Soldier. So his mood was already pretty low…add a ten hour flight on top of that and he wasn’t even going to try and hide his distaste for the situation.

“Yes they do Agent Barnes, and they have all been trained to an expert level in martial arts and firearms, each and every one of them…” Stated Agent Maria Hill through the comms as she remained at headquarters. “…but they do not possess the skill set each of you have and that’s what is needed when facing Hydra’s threat.”

“The bastards aren’t going to stop. For all we know the Queen herself could be-“

“You can’t think like that Buck. I know this can’t be easy for you but we need your head in the game.”

He kept quiet, knowing that his friend was right (as always!), before unstrapping himself from his seat and heading towards the front of the jet. Metal fingers gripped around the fabric of the seat Natasha was occupying as Bucky rested his bionic hand on top of it.

Although he couldn’t remember ever visiting a compound here during his time as The Winter Soldier that didn’t necessarily mean he hadn’t and he wanted to get a good view of it before the jet landed.

“It’s not going to look like much from up here.” The redheaded Avenger kept her focus on the controls of the jet but aimed her words at the super soldier stood behind her. “From the information Agent Hill has sent through it is an abandoned airfield. It hasn’t been active since February 1947. No activity has been spotted outside but thermal scans of the place have picked something up beneath it.”

“It will be a storage facility.”

His jaw clenched, fingers digging deeply into the fabric of the seat, if it wasn’t for the jet being hit by a bit of turbulence and the brunette losing his grip his hand may have gone all the way through,

“But what are they storing?” Sam asked with a quirked brow.

He had been drugged for the second time that day by his handlers. Although he only had the rare moment now where his old life would flicker back to him they didn’t want to risk allowing him to travel with a coherent mind in case he made a break for it. Even after all these years he was still one of their most important weapon and from the little snippets of conversation he had managed to pick out in his drugged he was going to prove even more important….

“Put the asset into a holding cell until he has fully recovered from the drugs. When he is coherent enough I want you to bring the female in.”

“Yes sir.”

He was thrown into the cell, landing on the floor with a heavy thud, his eyes creeping open just in time to see the door slamming shut.

“Hey….Buck?” He was snapped out of whatever memory had come back to him by the gloved hand of his friend landing onto his shoulder and giving it a gentle but reassuring squeeze. “You okay? Looked like you went somewhere for a moment there?”

His eyebrows were knitted with worry but Bucky soon dismissed his concern as the jet came in to land. Perhaps it was just a one off because he hadn’t slept all that well last night….

* * * * * * * * * *

The compound was easy enough for them all to make their way inside; to anyone else such ease in completing a mission probably would have been seen as a relief but each one of The Avengers knew all too well that it wasn’t always such a good thing. If there was no form of security outside then there could easily be a whole load of it inside.

“I think it’s going to be better if we split up guys, cover more ground inside should there prove to be agents inside.”

Steve took charge the second they stepped foot inside the main hangar of the airfield; splitting everyone off into pairs to cover different areas. Clint and Natasha teamed up as they usually did, Tony and Sam reluctantly decided to join forces, while Thor and Bruce headed off on their own – neither one of them particularly liking to be ‘teamed up’ with another.

Once they had all left Steve turned to Bucky.

“That was a flashback you had back on the jet……you’ve been here before haven’t you?”

“I don’t know. I think so….whatever memory started to come back to me probably wasn’t supposed to but as soon as I saw this place it just seemed to hit me.”

The sad look that always enveloped his eyes when he spoke of Hydra made an appearance, dulling any life that had once been inside of them, but instead of talking any further about it he moved past Steve and further into the facility. He couldn’t really remember ever being here and yet as though this place was his very home he navigated his way with ease down into the tunnels that lay beneath the hangar. There was no hesitation in his moves and Steve found himself having to quicken his own pace to keep up with his friend.

The tunnel they were in came out into a deserted corridor but by the looks of the small cells that were on either side of the wall it had once been inhabited by several people.

Once the drugs had left his system completely he was able to drag himself up into a seated position; an action of which was soon noticed by the guard that had been stationed outside his cell as he pulled something up from off the floor beside him.

“Get up freak! We have a little surprise for you behind this door.”

The Winter Soldier furrowed his brows, curious as to who the guard was speaking to, but he didn’t need to wonder for long because the door was pushed open and the mystery person was thrown into the room with such force that they landed on top of the soldier who had only just managed to get back onto his feet himself.

“Welcome to your next mission soldier…..” The guard’s face was up against the bars of the cell, a smug grin working its way onto his lips as the tip of his tongue ran itself along them. “….can’t say she’s the most attractive broad but damn she’s got some curves on her.”

“I don’t understand.” His voice was hoarse from the fact that he had been asleep for a number of hours but the confusion was still very much evident in the way he spoke his words. “What exactly is my mission?”

“You are to impregnate the freak stood before you. Now….get to work.”

As he came out of the flashback his vision came back to him to reveal Steve now stood in front of him waving a hand in front of his face to gain his attention.

“I’ve been here before. I was here for a mission.” His words were said in a rather matter-of-fact tone as he once again pushed ahead of his friend….now determined to find out what it was they were storing in….still there had been no sight of a single Hydra agent.

* * * * * * * * * *

The main control room was where he made a beeline for – if there was anything here that would tell them anything it would be in here. He was sure of it.

Upon first glance the room looked just like any other control room they had come across in a Hydra facility numerous times before but Bucky wasn’t interested in the control panels that seemed to fill the place, no, he was more interested in what lay among the shadows at the far end of the room.

“Steve? Have you guys come across anyone yet?”

He took his blue eyes off his friend as he turned away slightly to talk to Natasha through the comms. His hand raised up to the piece of technology inside his ear.

“Absolutely nothing. I’m guessing you guys haven’t either?”

“No. We’re going to keep checking the perimeter though to make sure we haven’t missed anything.”

“Okay. Me and Buck will join you shortly.”

He ceased the communication only to then hear Bucky’s voice straight away from within the shadows that he had wandered into.

“They just abandoned her. The bastards got scared and ran…”

Steve furrowed his brows, not having a clue as to what his friend was going on about but when he stood himself next to him he noticed exactly what he was stood in front of. It was a cryogenic tank and inside it was you. A young girl, no older than 14 years of age by the looks of it, and going by the flickering of the light inside the tank its power supply was fading. His eyes cast over to an angry Bucky whose jaw was clenching…..but there was something else too, something he hadn’t seen in a while, there seemed to be a small tear gathering in the corner of his eye.

“Nat we need you down here. We’ve discovered something but we need your skills at the controls to sort it.”

“I’m on my way.”

* * * * * * * * * *

You remained unconscious throughout the whole journey from the facility to the London Headquarters for Shield. Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from you – there was a foreign feeling tugging away at his heart as he looked over your fragile form – one he wasn’t really sure how to handle.

Upon arrival to the building Bruce and Tony rushed you to the infirmary where they started a barrage of tests to ensure that not only would you wake up from the frozen state you had been in for god knows how long but to also try and find out who you were.

The other Avengers came and went, going about their other tasks, but Bucky remained right outside the infirmary occupying one of the horribly uncomfortable chairs outside. Even if he couldn’t remember if you knew you or not he still felt like he should wait for you to wake up, be there when you do, because he knew all too well how horrifying it was to wake up in a whole other time and to have a mind that was like a jigsaw that had just been poured onto the floor from its box.

It felt like whole days had passed before Tony wandered out of the doors and in his direction.

“Barnes.” Bucky made to stand himself up from his chair but the man before him raised a hand to stop him from doing so. “You’re gonna want to be sat down for this. We ran all the usual tests on our unidentified female and she will soon wake up and go on to make a full recovery, something both me and Banner were expecting in all honesty, what we weren’t expecting to see was a sample of her blood matching with some that’s already on our database.”

“That can’ be possible though.” Confusion etched itself onto the super soldier’s face. “Now I’m not an expert on this stuff, obviously, but if her blood matched with someone else’s doesn’t that mean….”

“…that she is related to a member of this team. Yes. In fact she is their daughter.” Tony’s eyes fixed themselves directly onto Bucky’s, his stare becoming rather intense, he was waiting for the penny to drop. It didn’t seem to be happening quick enough for him and before long he revealed the bombshell himself. “That girl in there is your daughter Barnes. She has been frozen for a number of decades.”

For a good few seconds his heart seemed to stop beating entirely as Tony’s words soon started to sound like they were being spoken underwater. Everything around him became so much less important when he realised why he’d felt something towards the girl.

“Nice work soldier.” The top dog of the organisation wandered into the room that the Winter Soldier was currently residing in with a large grin lighting up his old and haggard face. “The mutant freak is pregnant which means your mission was a success. Now we have the beginnings of something that will change the world as we know it.“

He didn’t care, not in the slightest, the only thing that had mattered to him that day back in the cell was completing what had been asked of him. The fact that there was now a child involved didn’t suddenly flick on a switch inside of him and make him feel…..all he wanted was to be given his next job.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly at first but once they had adjusted to the light of the room better they opened fully. The heart rate monitor that was attached to you made your anxiety audible as the rhythm increased to a level that made it sound like the machine was going to break completely and that was when you felt something warm cradle your cheek and out of instinct you flinched; your hand shot out towards whoever had touched you, wrapping around what felt like a throat, and when you heard someone desperately gasping for air you turned your head slowly to put your gaze upon them.

Immediately your eyes widened and your grip immediately loosened its grip on the person’s throat before removing itself completely.

“I…I know you.” Your voice was barely even audible after all the decades of being unable to use it but he was close enough to be able to pick up what you said. “I have only ever seen….pictures bu-but it’s definitely you. You’re my father.”

A smile made its way onto your cracked lips before you forced yourself to sit upright so that you could hold your arms out to him for a long-awaited embrace. One which he wasted no time in wrapping you into as Tony stepped into the room.

“From the mutations we saw in your daughter’s DNA she has abilities that we can’t even begin to imagine. It will take a lot of time but eventually we will come to know exactly what it is she can do. During that time might I suggest that you make up for some lost time.” He placed a hand onto Bucky’s shoulder as an affectionate smile touched his lips. “Family is important.”

“That’s about the only thing I have ever agreed with you on Stark. Don’t you worry. This little one will never be going out of my sight again. I failed her once….I won’t be failing her again.”

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unashamed-shipper · 8 years

Text

Living With You

read on ff.net and ao3

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

tags: @beaxnalu, @ftfanfics

rating: t+ for sexual joking, swear words, and mild smut later on

pairings: nalu, gajevy, gruvia

characters: natsu, lucy, gajeel, levy, gray, juvia

summary: Finding herself thrown out and drunk after a party wasn’t the way Lucy expected her night to go. After blacking out and waking up in a room with three men, she has a decision to make: will she stay or will she go? Loosely based on New Girl. Roommates!AU

One month had passed since Lucy got the job at Juvia’s shop. She had begun to clean the cobwebs in the corners and work on reorganizing the shelves this week, and Juvia was very thankful. The woman had started spending time with Gray more often, and even though he didn’t seem to enjoy it much, he was starting to get used to the woman following him around.

As she swept the floors, she realized she had been living with Gajeel, Gray, and Natsu for almost a month and a half. Time really slipped by when you weren’t being hurt on a regular basis. Lucy grinned as she swept, and Juvia took notice.

“What is Lucy grinning about?” Juvia said with a smile, setting out a glass of lemonade for her employee.

Lucy wiped the sweat off of her brow. The floors were disgusting. Who knew it would be this much work to just sweep simple wooden paneling?

“Oh, nothing. It just came to me that I’ve been living with the guys for a while,” Lucy said, sauntering over and sitting on one of the stools they had set out in front of the bar to make it more homey. They were thinking of hiring a bartender soon, and Lucy knew just the person. Mirajane Strauss, Cana’s girlfriend, went to bartending classes and was quite efficient. She was also sweet and great with customers, and Lucy was sure that Mira’s looks would turn in some people as well.

“Lucy has been living with Gray-sama for that long?” Juvia asked once Lucy told her how long the length of time had been, “Juvia would love to live with Gray-sama!”

Lucy laughed. “Well, maybe someday that will happen, Juvia.”

Juvia went off to dreamland while cashing out the next customer bringing up some crystals, who sweatdropped when she told them about her Gray-sama. Lucy just shook her head with a sigh and began mopping the floors, which was even worse than just sweeping them up.

Around an hour later, Natsu and Levy made their way into the shop, looking around at all the crystals. Natsu headed over to the star charts after saying hello to Lucy and Juvia, and Levy awed over the sight of the store.

“This looks great, Lu-chan! I can’t believe that you and Juvia cleaned up the store to look like this!” Levy said, staring around the room in shock.

“Thanks, Levy! Hopefully we’ll be able to hire a bartender soon so we can have drinks in here as people look. It will be like a bar and store all in one!” Lucy exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air and twirling around the room with a laugh.

Natsu looked at her and noticed for the first time how beautiful her hair was as it glimmered in the sunlight, but kept his thoughts to himself. His heart quickened as she laughed, and it brought a smile to his own face. She was gorgeous.

“By the way, Lucy, a few girls and I were wondering if you’d like to sleep over at my house tonight. I’m sure the boys wouldn’t mind. Would you, Natsu?” Levy asked, turning to look at the man who was currently looking at the moonstones and sneaking glances at Lucy.

“Nah, not at all! Luce lives with us, but she’s your friend. Go ahead and have some fun!” Natsu said with a grin. “Oh, here’s your lunch. Iron Brain sent it and told you to ‘have the dishes and the water bill paid by tomorrow’.”

Lucy accepted the lunch with a smile. “Thanks, Natsu. I appreciate it!”

“Don’t mention it, Luce! Someone’s gotta watch out for ya, after all!”

Lucy grinned again and then turned her eyes toward Levy to discuss plans as she ate her soup.

“Here we are!” Levy swung open the door once Lucy grabbed her things at her apartment and ended her shift successfully.

“Hi, Lucy!” Lisanna said before practically jumping on her friend with a hug. Lisanna and Evergreen ran a shop down the street from the strip mall that Lucy had interviewed at before.

“Hi, Lisanna! Hey, is that shirt I like still on sale?”

“Yep, and I’ll put it on hold for you. I might just put some earrings with it too,” Lisanna said with a wink. The girl was a pure angel, and that wasn’t just because of her white hair. The woman had a heart of gold, but she became a real animal while defending her friends. The time that Lisanna attacked a woman who was calling Cana an alcoholic asshole and Mira an airheaded dyke was forever burned into Lucy’s mind.

“Thanks, Lis. You’re the best,” Lucy said, smiling genuinely at her friend. Then she saw Evergreen filing her nails off in the corner sitting by herself.

“Ever! You came!”

“Well of course I did! Elfman kept telling me to get out of the house and that it was ‘good for the baby’. And, of course, I wanted to help you with your ratty hair,” Evergreen mused, pulling Lucy in for a hug. Evergreen was kind of like the vodka aunt of the “family” of girls they were in--except for the vodka, she drank milkshakes like crazy. The woman was also a licensed cosmetologist and did hair, makeup, and nails on the side. If anyone needed to go on a date, it was to Evergreen’s they went.

“It’s always nice to see you. How’s Oliver?” Lucy asked, her eyes flicking to Evergreen’s belly. She was about seven months pregnant, but she looked as if she was about to pop. Oliver was Elfman’s baby, alright…

“Kicking like always. Little brat,” Evergreen said with a bite to her voice, but unconditional love was at the base of her tone. Lucy knew that the woman quite loved her little boy, but she was sure that his kicks could be powerful.

The rest of the group waved and shouted their hellos. Cana was sitting watching a show with Mira in the corner snuggled up on the couch, and the rest of the girls were playing a board game. Kinana was the quiet coffee shop owner who had a love for scones, and her best friend Laki was one of the baristas who enjoyed creating new drinks. Her favorite was a mocha with caramel syrup and peppermint curls on top. Yukino and Minerva ran a jewelry shop across town that had sparkling gems delivered on a daily basis.

The party quickly begun, with alcohol and chocolate flowing heavily. Cana was now snuggling up with Mira fiercer than before, and Juvia was texting Gray like crazy. The rest of the girls were either passed out or watching a movie with more fruity alcoholic drinks.

“C’mon, admit it. You like Natsu,” Levy said, hugging Lucy close to her. Lucy flushed and told Levy that it was false.

“He’s cute, but not as cute as Gajeel,” Levy said, downing her drink and giggling once she finished.

“Ohhh, so you like Gajeel then?”

“N-no!”

“Why don’t you ask him out then if you’re so hesitant?” Lucy asked, and Kinana popped up from her spot.

“Is that that guy I always see you around with? You better snatch him up quick, Levy. Otherwise other girls won’t hesitate to do so!” Kinana said before slumping over with giggles, drink in hand.

“Oh yeah? Well I think Lucy should ask Natsu out!” Mira added with a grin, and Cana whooped in agreement.

“That hot piece of ass isn’t going to last for long, blondie!” Cana said, taking a drink from her whiskey. Mira kissed her girlfriend on the cheek softly before turning on another movie and laughing when the credits came.

“I barely even know him!” Lucy shouted, and that woke everyone up. All eyes in the room were locked on her, and Lucy felt painfully aware of what she felt at that moment.

Oh no. She had a crush on Natsu.

When the hell did this happen? Was it when he rescued her for the second time, or maybe the first? Was it when he smiled at her or looked at her like she was the only person in the room? Or was it when he defended her against that woman who called her a drowned rat?

She couldn’t have a crush on someone. She just couldn’t. Her relationship with Dan had ended so badly that she couldn’t risk it. And hell, what if he liked her back? Lucy couldn’t get into a relationship now! Not after what Dan did to her…

Her anxiety seeped in at the edges of her body, and icicles formed at her ribcage and pulled her into an attack harsher than she’d had before. She reached for the carpet to stim, but it was too late. Her anxiety had a hold on her once more.

Lucy gasped before feeling pain in her stomach. Her anxiety didn’t mix well with alcohol, and she was either about to pass out or throw up. And she guessed that it was both.

“Lucy?” Levy’s voice was the last thing she heard before she puked and then passed out.

Things couldn’t get any worse than this.

Just so you all know, I have commissions open. Please message me here and ask for my paypal/youcaring if you are willing to help me with that. I am going on a trip to help my friend get out of her not-so-good home, and we need all the help we can get. Thanks!

>>>Chapter 8>>>

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howlingcommandoreigns-archived · 8 years

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The stiffled laughter which greeted him as he was dragged through the shelter’s doors by a rambunctious pack of baying molossers had become a sound he was accustomed to these days working his shifts here, the dithering of volunteer workers workers who were alarmed when he first came in after a long walk with twigs in his hair and tarmac burns on his elbows dissipating when they realized his hands-on approach to the animals under their care and his penchant for gamboling with them when the opportunity arose.

“You fuckin’ pricks are makin’ a game out of this, swear to god.” Roman panted from the floor, finally releasing the eight leashes he had held on to like his life depended on it as he pointed at droopy-eyed St.Bernard with thick ropes of drool slowly pooling on the linoleum below from jowls which were lifted in a good-natured grin. “You---they had a bad influence on you, big boy. Which one done talked you into it? Bet it was her yeah? See you makin’ eyes at me missy, don’t think I ain’t keepin’ tabs on ya!” He tipped his chin at a Rottweiler who tilted her head to a side and he could almost see the wry amusement in her gaze as he propped himself up on his elbows and let out a breathless grunt when the St.Bernard decided to sit squarely in his lap and the rest of them swarmed him over with tails wagging eighty miles an hour.

“Yeah yeah, butter the boss up real good. Classy tactic.” The sound of a volunteer clearing her throat politely however silenced them all for a moment as he tilted his head over to where a mousey little teenager with a clipboard was nervously eyeing the large breeds with apprehension that generally came with being a---

“Newbie. Talk to me, kid.”

“Your visitor arrived five minutes ago. She’s in the waiting hall, would you like me to bring her in?” “Nah, I got this.” Roman assured her as he stood up and handed the dog’s leashes to a more experienced handler who led them back towards the kennels. Accepting the offer of a towel from another, he ambled over and poked his head through the door which led to the visitor’s hall and upon spotting the familial mane of fiery red, whistled to get her attention. “Ay Hot Socks! Over here!.” He beckoned for her to follow him deeper into the establishment, passing a brightly lit room where several puppies were playing with their handlers and a medical bay where the latest rescues were being treated. “It gets a lil’ hectic around here these days, but I’ve got the meeting room set up in the cat enclave. We’ve got several so prospective owners can meet with our residents away from the chaos of the surroundings.” Stopping in front of a room with a large glass panel through which they could observe its inhabitants, he gestured for her to take a look for herself at the five felines who were either at rest or amusing themselves with the toys left for them on the floor.

The sole exception however was a tuxedo Angoran who was sitting on the ledge of the window and staring right back at them curiously, mouth opening in a quizzical meow which couldn’t be heard through the glass. “Meena. You’ll notice she’s still got her collar on.” Roman tapped his neck for emphasis, his tone of voice taking on the air of someone who was clearly tired of the situation but still hoping for the best.

“Her owner surrendered her to us several months ago ‘cause they were movin’ an’ didn’t want her with them in their new home. She’s a good cat---affectionate as hell, won’t stop givin’ us kisses, but she’s real vocal. I figure she might be callin’ out to them still hopin’ they left her behind on accident. She gets violent when you try to take off that collar, so y’know. We left it on. It still means somethin’ to her even if she don’t mean nothin’ to ‘em anymore. I tell that to people an’ they deflate a lil’ ‘cause they think that means she won’t love ‘em or she’ll try to run or summat. I think she just needs a new family who’s gonna be there for her, yeah?”

The Samoan turned his head towards a sprightly, green-eyed ginger Manx who was batting at a mouse stuffed with catnip like he was hitting several homeruns---the others were wise enough to give him a wide berth though they weren’t safe from his explosive reserves of energy as he raced around the room and promptly ran into a Maine Coon who walloped him across the nose. This made him retreat quickly and he was back to gnawing holes in the toy mouse as Roman shook his head at the creature in amusement. “That clown is Jack. As in Jumpin’ Jacks, because that’s his mode pretty much until his Duracell batteries die down for the day. He’s a young cat, real energetic if that display ain’t enough to clue you in---nippy an’ we’re kinda workin’ out his thing with playin’ rough, ‘cause he was a feral through an’ through when we picked him up. He’s gotten better since. Ain’t got a fear of dogs which is a plus or a minus dependin’ on how you look at it--he tolerates ‘em pretty well as long as they don’t try assertin’ themselves on him. He’s pretty self-reliant an’ don’t need too much fuss. Give him toys, food an’ water an’ he’s happy keepin’ himself company while you’re gone.”

Roman directed Becky’s attention to the Maine Coon who had returned to feeding from the cat bowls after Jack’s collusion course. Unlike the rest, this one carried herself with a clear sense of dignity that befitted her silver-speckled fur and she went about to cleaning herself fastidiously after her snack. “That queen there is Delancey. She’s pretty old, sort of the Queen Elizabeth of the cats here to be honesty, but she’s still got it when it comes to showin’ who’s boss around here, heh. She can be a grumpy old hag which is why she’s gone through the system quite a bit; unfamiliar noise an’ sudden touches set her off which is why I ain’t recommended her for families with young kids, but she’s pretty affectionate once you have her trust. She’s also one of the few cats here who’s pretty chill with dogs as long as they don’t yark in her face an’ leave her food alone. She’s got a couple of meds she needs to take these days, comes with her age y’know?”

A bright-eyed Tonkinese had noticed Meena’s attentiveness to the figures beyond the glass and jumped up onto the edge to join her in studying the human they were familiar with who always smelled of dog, and this new one with the sunset hair.

“Tracy, she’s curious about everythin’. New friends, new food, new smells, new toys, everythin’s worth investigatin’ for her which is great since that means her first instinct to a new friend is to check ‘em out first instead of hidin’ out an’ hissin’ up a storm. She’s friendly even if she ain’t as affectionate as the rest---willin’ to give everyone a try. Problem is, she can get too friendly, too curious, an’ that spells trouble if you don’t keep an eye on her an’ she does things like try to eat make-up cake or lipstick which is how she ended up here an’ starts tryin’a commune with dogs who’re less friendly than Cadbury could be. She’s best as an indoor cat, outdoors only an’ only if you’ve got her on a harness, no matter how much outdoors might intrigue her.”

A striking Ocicat poked his head out of a box before sauntering out with all the confidence of a young prince and stretching out before hem so his markings were on full display before he walked over to the water bowl next to where Delancey was and began politely drinking from it. After several sips, he straightened his back and began grooming the older cat who closed her eyes contently. “Ram Dass is a gentleman, kinda like Cadbury is. He was born here---his mother came to us pregnant an’ was adopted out a while back so he’s young an’ this place is all the home and the family he knows so in his case, I can guarantee that he’ll have no problem with a multi-pet household since that was the way he was raised here. Thing with him is he’s always concerned, which is a thing that happens when you’re raised in an environment where y’know. Hurt cats an’ dogs are comin’ in every week an’ some of ‘em don’t make it an’ he sort of gets what’s goin’ on---he seems to be aware that livin’ things suffer an’ die an’ he’s always goin’ around checkin’ on his mates makin’ sure they’re OK an’ even the humans who’re tendin’ to him, so if he’s yowlin’ an’ demandin’ to be let into the toilet with you, know that he just doesn’t want you to be hurt or summat an’ he’s gonna check on you just in case.”

A nondescript bundle of fur nestled in a small hammock came to life as the last cat of the lot raised his head sleepily in their direction and after a split second of deciding on whether they were worth getting up for and investigating, yawned long and wide before settling down for another nap.

“Dorian. As in Dorian Grey. He’s spoiled silly, this one, an’ goddamn if he don’t know that he’s pretty. Got one of those owners who picked him up when he was small an’ cute an’ didn’t want to deal with him when he got older an’ started showin’ normal cat behavior. He’s always cool an’ calm---he don’t approach you, you approach him, there’s always a set number of strokes, six in all before he decides he’s had enough attention, an’ he can’t deal with normal cat food---dunno what he was fed as a kid but he can’t digest store-brand cat food without throwin’ it up so it’s got to be one of the vet-approved brands with little to no filler. He’s lazy as shit an’ is content with sleepin’ on the couch or your lap for most of the day, which is good because ain’t no one got time to be pickin’ fights with dogs, certainly not this homeboy.” Roman placed his hand on the glass, chuckling to himself as Meena and Tracy batted at it from the other side which made it look like they were offering him high-fives. He straightened his back and turned around to face Becky before waving his hand at the door next to the window. “Your call when you wanna go in or if you wanna go in first so they get to know you before you bring in Cadbury. You take as long as you want to know ‘em. I’ll be out here if you need me aight?”

@lassxkickerxlynch

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slowlypsychicsublime · 7 years

Text

It's Not A Act! Clint Barton x Reader pt 2

Summary: Now at the breathtakingly flawless mansion the two assassins now begin phase two of their well devised and expertly named plan ‘Get rich bitches trust’. But the road to achieve their current goals is rough and bendy, who knows who will be blown off of the unforgiving path of tar during this wild journey of love and riches.

Warnings: Swearing (as usual) a bit of smut Authors note: Thank you all for reading!

The room we were left in was enormous. White walls all around (excluding the stone feature wall), large creamy couch, even bigger television. Originally it was perfect, but that was way, way before I spotted a huge flaw… There was only one bed, just one and there was no way that me, myself or I is sleeping on the couch that is clearly used just for looks. This would be a problem… We dump our bags in front of the plain white door after gently shutting it and simultaneously look at each other and then the bed. Clint, bed, Clint, bed, Clint, bed. As a look of mischief discreetly crawls onto your newly wed’s face a look of realisation forcefully jumps up onto yours, both muttering the words “fuck it” the two of you bolted towards the dreamy bed eventually wrestling to determine the unlucky soul who has to sleep on the couch. So it was basically a remake of The Hunger Games except Clint was Katniss and you were Peeta, life or death, me or him. As soon as you pin him down the door knob turns ever so slightly accompanied by a small almost inaudible knock, panic stricken the two of you considered what it must really look like. Your hands on his neck whilst straddling him to keep him down, his right hand on your hands trying (in vain) to get out whilst his left was on your hip trying (once again in vain) to push you off of him, it must look like you are attempting to kill him! This although hilarious is a problem, once that door opens we have lost the data and our dignity (the latter being the most troubling thing). So you try something that you always wanted to do, you remove your hands from his neck and carefully place them on his chest whilst shifting further up his body so you are straddling his waist not legs. Clint quickly followed your lead thinking that you would make it look like cuddling but fuck him was he wrong, he figures this out when out of nowhere you vigorously kiss him. A grunt of surprise leaves his throat but he nevertheless complies and moves both of his hands to your hips, caressing the small patch of skin that was showing, and kissing back with just as much vigor and passion that you both became long lost in the magical moment. Long enough for the mysterious door opener to slowly open and quickly shut close the door, leaving the two of you Mr and Mrs. Rouldra in a intense snogging session. Finally confessing your over due feelings in a intimate way felt euphoric, all of the stress of pretending to be a couple gone, because even though no words were exchanged a mutual understanding was developed. You both loved each other, both of you are assassins, but most importantly the both of you were sleeping on the silky bed. That night was completed with two sweaty bodies and two assassins moaning and groaning and occasionally screaming as they realise that this was it, they had done it, they finally confessed their feelings and their long time crush loves them back. You opened your eyes smiling at the beautiful image that welcomed you, letting you relive the previous night in your brain. Clint lay beside you completely naked excluding the soft sheet that circled around his waist perfectly complementing his well toned ass, his adorable soft snores made him sound so small and fragile and also made you giggle. You gave his forehead a light peck and begrudgingly stood up to go get dressed into your extremely slutty outfit, you honestly didn’t feel like you were wearing anything at all. Walking back into the room your eyes immediately shot towards the naked man in the middle of your room, smirking slightly you walk up behind him wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head upon his bare shoulder. A content sigh left his lips as he conjoins his hands with yours lacing them together and kissing the back of your hand as you kiss his shoulder. “You should get dressed.” A snicker of fake disbelief leaves his mouth as he readies his comeback. “That’s funny you said the complete opposite last night” at this you laughed, although you would never verbally admit it Clint was most definitely right. His smile only grew more as he continued in a extremely girly voice that was seemingly intended to sound like you. It did not. “Ah Clint don’t tease me! Faster please, FASTER! Please DON’T STOP!” You both fell to the ground laughing your asses off with unflattering grins on both of your faces. Once the laughter died down you both lay down on the warm black carpet, Clint naked and your attire resembling one of a rich slut matching smiles that could blind an emo. Clint boldly leans forward eyes delving into my own before looking lustfully at your plump pink lips occasionally alternating between the two. He came closer and closer until his lips brushed against yours. Just quickly gonna put this out there you are not the most patient of people never have been never will be as simple as that, so this next won’t surprise you. Smashing your lips upon his own rough lips, tongue slipping into his wet cavern as you roll up onto his hips, bucking your hips into his every now and then earning either a moan, groan or whimper from the naked man under you. Rolling down on him harder a strangled gasp left his lips as he grabs your hips, forcefully grinding your hips into his getting rewarded with low moans and groans. Rolling off of him you stand up and leave the room making a bee line for the bathroom and closing the door after yelling a quick “get dressed!” Over your shoulder. Clint responded with a groan from the back of his throat and a loud “you bastard!” Making you chuckle. There was the Clint that you know and love. After Clint got dressed the two of you set out to smooch up to the owners and see if at least one of you can get some information. After sitting down and helping the yourself to breakfast you leave the dinning room and head towards the lounge room, sitting down slowly to innocently showcase how tight the provided clothes are on you. You really had to get this information. Clint soon sat next to you grabbing your hand therefore initiating the traditional talk that was surprisingly civil for Mr and Mrs. Rouldra unfortunately including the one and only perv Mr. Bforga. The sly looks at your boobs were really riling you up, but funnily enough Clint looked more angry than you. The talk helped us a lot, we learnt that every single important file could be accessed by the security panel in the restricted section. The only problem was the security. Mr. Bforga kept on bragging about how many guards where stations near there, and there were a lot. Once back to our room the both of you fell asleep quickly, no sexual contact at all (minus a quick peck on the lips and innocent cuddling). He loves you, you love him and that’s enough for the both of you at the moment.

Thank you for reading, just remember that if you need to talk about anything at all I’m right here. I love you all! Xoxo

#Clint Barton x Reader #Clint Barton #Avengers #Avengers x Reader

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