#like. when I said earlier today that my ribs are still killing me and it's weird she said 'just take some Advil'

[mosspapi]

I can't tell if I'm just having a massive costo flare or if I've actually dislocated and/or cracked my ribs somehow.

I know I need to ask my parents abt it but I had a massive argument with my mother about it earlier today because apparently the reason I have chronic pain is because I don't take Advil (absolute bullshit on many levels and she knows this but she refuses to admit when she doesn't know something), so I don't want to have to deal with her again but also I don't want to leave this if it IS a bigger issue ya feel.

Like it feels like just a really bad flare, but they don't normally last for 3+ days in a row, 24/7, at the "sharp, hard-to-breathe, plus aching, plus reduced mobility" level. That type of flare usually lasts at most a couple of hours. So I'm concerned it's a bigger issue than that, but I'm also paranoid about health things so idk if I'm overreacting ya feel?

[janeyseymour]

Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt. 5

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Summary: JJ is with Joe, and you and Melissa are at the hospital.

WC: ~1.7k

JJ is screaming, crying, terrified. His father has just taken him from the place that he’s finally gotten used to calling home- from the two people that he feels at home with. His shoulder is on fire, and the way that his father is driving is more than scary.

But he’s silenced when Joe’s voice comes booming out, screaming at him to shut the fuck up, and his cheek is smacked. The little boy is reduced to silent tears that pour down his face continuously. He wishes that his momma were with him- that you were with him protecting him like you promised you would. He still can’t believe that you couldn’t make good on your promise- and even at his young age, he doesn’t fault you. He knows that if it were up to you, he would still be safely tucked into your arms in the bathroom and waiting for the police to arrive.

“Fuckin’ Melissa,” he shouts as he slams his hands on the steering wheel. “Fuckin’ fuckin’ the lawyer- no wonder the bitch won. Gonna fuckin’ kill her the next time I see her.”

JJ’s eyes widen. This is not the father he knew. He knew of Joe to not always be the most helpful or father of the year when it came to parental responsibilities- no, that was all Melissa. But he’s never gone around cursing like this in front of his son- never threatening to harm his mother. And he… he smells awful. What is that smell? The answer to that silent question is: vodka, not that the young one would be able to identify that scent. His father reeks of vodka, and he only continues to bring the bottle to his lips as he drives. The little boy is nearly thrown out of his seat as his father slams on the brakes, just narrowly avoiding a car that is coming at him. And before the four year old knows it, he’s seeing the skyline of the city off in the distance behind him.

“I want Momma,” the little one whimpers from the back. “I want Momma and Y/N.”

“Well, you aren’t getting them,” Joe sneers. “You’re mine now.”

Even at the young age that JJ is, he knows that’s not true. He knows that the reason that they were in court earlier today was because it was to determine where he would stay- the judge had explained that much to him and had even asked him who he would rather be with. Of course, his answer was that he wanted to stay with Melissa. He told the judge how Joe never played with him, was never home for dinner or for bedtime. JJ explained to the judge that Melissa was the best momma that he could ever ask for- that she was always there for cuddles, to play, make breakfast and dinner, that she gives him more love and hugs than anyone in the world, and that his momma is his absolute favorite person. He remembers that he told the judge that he loves where he lives now… he mentioned that he loves living there because you reside just down the hall, and you’re his second favorite person. He silently cries in the backseat as he quickly buckles himself in, praying that he’ll be reunited with his momma and you- and soon. 

The ambulance arrives not a few minutes after you place the call, and your heart breaks as they lift her onto the stretcher and she cries out in pain. Melissa is always so strong, not one to show that she’s struggling unless it’s in the confines of her own home- but this is something even beyond her. She can’t do anything other than writhe in pain- both at the hurt in your ribs and at the aching in her chest as she is terrified for her son’s fate.

You climb into the medical vehicle and hold the redhead’s hand the entire time. She doesn’t even register the absolute searing pain in her sides anymore- now she is just concerned for her son.

“They said they would have people meet us at the hospital,” you promise her. “And when I mentioned the Schemmenti name, the operator seemed shocked. So, maybe you always knowing a guy will work out in your favor.”

“If they don’t send Tommy to me, I will raise hell,” she grits through her teeth.

When the two of you arrive, the man in blue is indeed the one that she mentioned, and she feels the slightest bit of relief at that.

“Melissa Schemmenti, you look like hell,” the officer whistles lowly.

“You blues better fuckin’ get Joe,” is all the redhead grits out as they wheel her into the back. “Take Y/N’s statement, and get Joe.”

And so, while she is being assessed, taken back for various tests to ensure that there is no internal bleeding or anything of the likes, you sit in the room while the doctor tries to insist on also examining your own wounds and speak with Tommy. You brush off the doctor- your only focus right now is getting Melissa’s son back home safely.

“I don’t even know what happened,” you tell him honestly. “All I know is he was piss drunk, and I fought tooth and nail to keep that little boy safe.”

“Ma’am, any information is valuable.”

“Okay,” you will yourself to think back to just about an hour ago. You close your eyes, trying to concentrate, and you’re taken back to the apartment where everything had just happened. “Melissa and I were asleep on the couch… and I woke up when she started screaming. He- he had a bat. And he beat Melissa senselessly while screaming that she was fucking me- we are not… He beat me in the side. She told me to get her son, JJ- uh, Joe Jr. We raced to the back rooms where he was sleeping. I somehow got him despite him hitting me with the bat in the leg. We were locked in the bathroom, and Joe- he broke the door. I held onto him as much as I could. But Joe was stronger and… he pulled…” you start to break down remembering the way that JJ had screamed. “JJ’s arm got pulled out of its socket. And then he took off with him. By the time I hobbled my way to the door, his car was out of sight.”

“We’ve already sent an amber alert out for him,” the officer promises you. Do you have any photos of the little boy to help identify him?”

You pull up a photo of JJ on your phone, one of him with Melissa and Joe.

“Please,” you whisper. “Please find him.”

The officer, in a rather out of character move, places his hand over yours. “With Melissa’s family being involved? Yeah, we’s gonna find that little boy, and Joe is going to pay.”

“Good,” you wipe at your tears. “And when you do find him, take him to whatever hospital is closest… God, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get that ear piercing shriek of his out of my head.”

“He’ll get taken care of,” Tommy promises you. “Just like Melissa is now, and how you should be for that knee of yours.” He gestures to it. “It don’t look right at all.”

“I’ll get to it,” you wave him off. “Right now, Mel needs all the care she can get, and JJ is our top priority.”

“Just remember that you can’t help them if you aren’t helping yourself,” the officer tells you as he pats your hand once more. Then he’s trailing back to his other colleagues to tell them what you had said.

You’re led back to Melissa’s room, where they have her in a bed now. Her eyes are foggy, and you can’t tell what she’s thinking. The doctor comes in a few seconds later.

“She’s high as a kite right now,- it was the only way to get her to stop cursing us out for not letting her find her son,” he tells you. “Three broken ribs from what he did to her.”

“I didn’t want it,” the redhead in the bed slurs out. “I just want my son.”

“And we’ll find him, Mrs. Schemmenti,” the doctor promises. “For now, all you can do is focus on getting better.”

“I don’t give a shit if I get better or not,” the woman is as feisty as ever. “All I need is JJ.”

“Mel,” you whisper as you limp your way over. You press a kiss to her hairline, and even with all of the morphine she’s on, she manages a smile. “We’re going to find him, and he’s going to be just fine. I promise.” You only hope that you can keep that promise- because your guilt will eat you alive if you can’t. The thought of something worse happening to that sweet little boy makes you sick to the stomach, and you have to choke down the bile that threatens to come up.

“We’re going to keep her overnight for observation,” the doctor informs you once you’ve choked it down. “But then she’s going to be released. Will you be the one with her?”

“I will be,” you confirm.

“Then you should let us check you out too, so you can help her the best you can,” he presses again.

With a roll of your eyes, you let them examine you, but you are adamant that you do not leave the redhead’s side. She falls asleep during the checkover, and all they tell you is that you’ll be sore for the next few days.

“Not as bad as her,” you sigh as you rub your thumb over Melissa’s knuckles. 

“Get some sleep for now,” the doctor tells you. “The police will be back tomorrow morning to get her statement when she isn’t drugged up, and we’ll instruct you on recovery for her in the morning.”

You insist on them wheeling a bed into the same room as the teacher. Your beds are right next to each other- close enough that you can grip Melissa’s hand softly in your own as you fall asleep, and as your drifting off to sleep, you feel the redhead squeeze your hand gently. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

[autisticlancemcclain]

The mattress squeaks again as Lance shuffles, for the billionth time, pointy elbow narrowly missing Hunk’s head as he squirms around.

Hunk is going to kill him. Actually. All the way to death.

“Lance,” he grits out, “sleepovers mean you need to go the fuck to sleep. You are driving me insane.”

Lance freezes. He’s completely still for several moments.

“Um, I was halfway through turning around when you said that. Are you gonna get mad if I turn all the way? I don’t think I can sleep like this.”

Hunk sighs, deep and long. Why. Why does he do this to himself. He could be sleeping comfortably, all by himself, free of flailing limbs and icy fingers and sleep talking, but noooo. Lance knocks at his door before bed, pillow pillow clutched in his hands and eyes widened in the world’s saddest pout, and Hunk caves immediately.

Well. He’s already dug himself into this hole, so.

He heaves himself into a sitting position, flicking on the bedside lamp and giving Lance a Look.

“Why can you not sit still for even three seconds?”

Lance smiles sheepishly at him. “Sorry. Just — thinking.”

“Yeah, I gathered that,” Hunk says, flicking him on the forehead. “I meant ‘what are you thinking about’, you goober.”

To Hunk’s great surprise and even greater intrigue, a quiet flush blooms on Lance’s cheeks.

Oh, now. This?

This has just made Hunk’s night four thousand times better. He’s almost completely forgiven Lance for keeping him awake until ungodly hours in the morning with his tossing and turning.

“Oh ho ho. You are blushing. This wouldn’t have anything to do with Keith’s visit today, would it?”

Lance can’t seem to help the giddy smile that overtakes his face.

“Maybe a little.”

“Spill! Spill! I must know everything!”

“I dunno,” Lance teases. “You were all grumpy earlier. Maybe I should let you sleep.”

“Don’t you dare pull that shit with me, Leandro Agustín. I want every juicy detail immediately.” He wiggles his fingers threateningly, looking pointedly at Lance’s ribs — a known weak spot. “Do not underestimate what I will do to get this information.”

Lance shoves him and his wiggling fingers away, scrambling back with a laugh. “Okay, okay! I’ll tell.” He bites his lip, looking down in his lap. His hands start flapping wildly beside him as he lets out a little giggle.

Hunk is so curious he’s nearly vibrating with it, right along with Lance. God. Why on Earth didn’t Lance lead with this? This is clearly the juiciest of information!

“Okay, you know how I was the one to walk Keith back to his ship after everyone said goodbye?”

Hunk gasps. He was already suspicious about that, but —

“No.”

Lance beams, smile so wide and bright that it squints his positively sparkling brown eyes completely shut, a sound of pure elation escaping him as he falls backwards on the pillows.

“Yes! He kissed me, Hunk! On the mouth! With tongue!”

Hunk shrieks, shaking Lance by the shoulders. God, they are being so loud, but Hunk can’t bring himself to care. Any tiredness has left his body in smoke. He feels like he could run a marathon. He can’t believe it’s finally happened! Actually! In the real world, and not Lance just talking about it dreamily for hours!

“Oh my God! Lance! He kissed you!”

“I know! It was — eek! It was everything, Hunk. I thought I was going to explode. He grabbed my hand before we even got the the hangar, so I was already pumped about that, and then after I hugged him goodbye he just didn’t let go. And he was just staring at me with this little smile on his face, and I asked him what was wrong and he said —”

Lance interrupts himself with a giggly, high-pitched noise, shoving his flushed face in a pillow and kicking out his legs. It’s the cutest thing in the world. Hunk doesn’t think he’s seen Lance this excited in — maybe not ever, actually. He’s so excited he can barely even speak.

“He said: ‘Nothing’s wrong. I just want to try something.’ And then I said okay and then he pressed me against the side of his ship and kissed the breath out of me! He’s the best kisser in the universe, I swear to God. It’s just — I thought he would be kind of hard and fiery about it, you know?”

Hunk nods, because he does know — Lance has talked about it a lot. (Not the Hunk can blame him, if he’s being entirely honest. Keith is kind of a looker.)

“But it was so soft. Holy shit. He kissed me like I was the most precious thing to ever exist. And when he pulled away he was smirking, a little, and then he said ‘it was good to see you, Blue’, kissed me again, and then flew off. I swear I didn’t move for, like, twenty minutes. I felt like I’d just been electrocuted or something.”

Hunk fans his face, shooting Lance a teasing grin. “Who knew Keith was such a romantic, huh?”

“Shuddup,” Lance says, smacking him gently with a pillow. He can’t even bring himself to frown playfully, so all-encompassing is his joy. “That’s why I couldn’t sleep. I just — I keep remembering the feeling of his hands on my waist.”

“Well, no wonder.”

Hunk continues to poke fun at Lance’s flushed face until he starts to yawn, and both of their eyes start to droop. He leans over and clicks the light back off.

“You think you’ll be able to sleep now, Dawn Pinkett?”

“Oh, shuddup.”

But Lance doesn’t really look mad. In fact, he falls asleep with a smile on his face, and Hunk hears him mutter Keith’s name no less than four times in his sleep.

As he falls asleep himself, Hunk can’t help but smile. Maybe he doesn’t really mind flailing limbs and icy fingers that much after all — of all their sleepovers are going to be this juicy, Hunk is never going to complain about drool on his pillows again.

———

based on this post

[the-1-and-only-horologium]

dumping all my poetry about you

Down bad for you I have never been this down bad in my life ouch ouch ouch 

—— 

You make me mourn the person I could never be. Smarter, wittier, more genuine. You make me wish I was better, make me hate myself, make me ashamed. You wouldn’t want any of those things. 

I can’t write your name, can’t admit I have wanted you for months, can’t humble myself before the universe even in the anonymity of confession. 

I knew you hated small talk but I was terrified of doing more, of somehow showing I was paying attention. God I loved you. God I love you.  

It hurts that no one ever wants me. No one ever sees me like that. I hate being ugly. I hate it. 

—— 

Folly folly. 

My foolproof crush cure is to draw a frog skull in pen. To kill any unwanted love (I’m sorry I’m a burden) all I have to do is draw a frog skull in pen. You made be gotten rid of with a frog skull drawn in pen and then I can speak to you again. 

He looks at me with that simple look that I’ve always dreamed of. He’s just happy to be looking at me. Last night he had looked so serious, and the pause had dragged forever (I think it was my last taste of heaven. Let me live there in the afterlife, suspended in hope like honey). But in the here and now his eyes make me feel there is more to me than the shallow layers I’m terrified of. He makes me forget being sixteen and drinking svedka and he makes me forget earlier today and feeling like a failure every time I clock into work. He makes me forget everything I loathe inside me and relive every word I’ve ever said to him. God, have I ever made someone look that happy, that relaxed? No. I haven’t. 

He’s not looking at me. Not really. 

I remember being young and knowing I was ugly and always would be. I remember thinking my only shot at being wanted was to be wanted by men who would violate me, my only outlet to be used. I remember how much it hurt to realize, and I don’t think it’s gotten any better. I’m just used to it now. 

I want someone a little sad so I won’t be the only one who has to bare my soul. 

—— 

They played a song from a show you asked me to watch 

I didn’t finish it 

History repeats 

I’m scared that I don’t love the way I’m supposed to 

It doesn’t fill me like it should 

I just had a magic moment. It’s the only kind of magic left anymore, the kind that exists with a francium half-life. 

I was listening to our song (the one you don’t know about) walking to my favorite spot on campus (you’ve never been there). I was thinking about not-you, about muffins and new jeans and a Master’s degree. 

A wind hit. 

The silvery underside of each leaf caught the light, with the rustling crescendo of concert confetti. That was it, really, but that’s all it needed to be. It shifted my skin just enough to let me breathe easier than the second before. 

I wanted to tell you about it but what would I say? The tap finally turned on, flushing out the stagnant water that had been puddled in my ribs since September? Who wants to hear that? 

———

It would’ve been easier if we had never been friends. 

Because now, every night, every time I am not careful, I catch myself thinking of you. Wondering what you thought and what you think. Where are you? Did you lie as much as I fear? Was talking to me just another responsibility? And why? 

“Why” has taken root more deeply in me than a child just learning about atoms, about dinosaurs, about gravity and the weather. “Why” perches inside the shell of my ear—I cannot hear you speak without hearing it too. “Why” spreads like fire, all my memories of you smoke-hazed. I knew I was too stupid, too young and too boring, to see the world as you did. To move through it as you did. Why did we end up in the same place at all? 

There are fair and pretty distractions, a happy meal thrown into the backseat after school to stem the flow of questions with fries and cheap toys. There are the days when you don’t plague me so much. There is the life I have built while pretending you aren’t still laughing at something I said, giving me shockingly honest answers, sharing yourself. You are braver than I will ever fucking be. 

—— 

I hate drinking from cans 

And when a cloudy day is broken 

I’ve never heard your voice on the phone, 

Why does that bug me so much? 

The sky sparkled with cast-out handfuls of stars, 

like some god’s change purse split open on pavement. 

can’t we skip 

the getting-to-know-each-other part? 

like I’m not tricking you

can I fight down, like before, 

all the rusty bile? 

I watch her in her perfect sun-blush dress 

With a smile that would send the devil running to repent 

I watch her like a peeping Tom and then 

Run home to try and write down her secrets 

I know it’s not much but it’s what I can cling to

A few fingertips bruised against the wall

—— 

I thought I heard rain but it was tires on dry asphalt 

I thought I heard the song you loved 

It’s easy to think in the clean space

We are young, working minimum-wage jobs and dressing like the magazines 

I got blisters on purpose 

See, I don’t mind how I scar and bleed, final-curtain red 

Standing-ovation red

——— 

I circled your birthday on my calendar—no caption 

I wonder if I’ll have any words to say when the morning comes 

I’ve been watching you get older through other peoples’ photos 

Home had been somewhere hovering on your periphery 

Longing, longing 

I drove past the Thai place and screamed until it vanished in the rear view 

I wonder if it was a relief when I stopped calling 

I’m hoping you booked a flight to that blackout hotel 

Find yourself in the silence like you wanted to

The bit of you I got to share 

Playing a game of cancel-plans chicken with my friends 

I haven’t seen any of them in a while

But I’ve ruined my life in million ways, so maybe it’s better if they keep a distance. 

——— 

There’s nothing like the empty I felt when I told you I was leaving 

You threw down your hat 

I knew you would be perfectly fine. Your love was just for my benefit

Like a salve, snake-oil sold in earnest

Wanting to be the one to fix it all. Even me 

——— 

I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I. Miss you. I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you. 

And like a cork in a bottle I am undone. It’s your birthday today and everyone lucky enough to still be in your life is celebrating you, a privilege I will never have again. Damn you and your paradox, a smile that welcomes me, welcomes everyone—I could be anyone. Because when you had me alone you had me entirely and you didn’t even know. 

There’s a fist in my stomach. Is anger always this blue? 

[radama-zard]

Dungeons & Drabbles - 2022

Day 22 - Feign

--------------------

FCG & Anni (Krook House QueerPlatonic Polycule - Modern Human AU)

Today comes with a warning. Sexual Assault is mentioned in this piece. So if it's a trigger then I suggest you skip today's piece!

“Welcome home, Anni! How was your day?”

Fresh Cut Grass watched as the half asian woman scowled, chucking her bag to the floor with an audibly loud thunk. Ah, bad then. Bad enough that she wasn't even cursing up a storm, it seemed.

Instead Anni stood there, her whole frame shaking.

To not even feign that she was okay…

“Oh… Very bad then.” they whispered, before wheeling up to her side and tentatively reaching out. Some days she couldn't stand to be touched, so it was always best to silently ask permission.

No flinching or stepping away, a good sign.

A second later Anni was leaning into his touch, before slipping her hand into their own.

“... Would you like to talk about it? Have comfort? Or maybe a distraction instead?”

Anni shrugged and absentmindedly kicked the door shut behind her.

“Ash and Milo are out right now. Tai Chi night and all. I think they said they'll be back pretty late, they're seeing that mecha movie after! So um, we have the place to ourselves! We can pull out the amps and make a real racket!”

“... Don't have the energy.”

“Oh well, um… The Pit then? I’ll even give you a ride over there!”

Anni stared down at Fresh Cut Grass, her expression unreadable for a good five seconds. A sigh slipped past her lips, which quirked into the slightest of smiles.

“Yeah, The Pit,” she uttered, her voice a little raspy. Had Anni been crying earlier? It took everything they had to not start prying there and then. That never went well with Anni. “I can walk through. I got legs. Workin’ legs. Workin’ legs that don't hurt like a mother fucker when I walk.”

Ah, there she was! That was the Anni Fresh Cut Grass knew and loved.

Not that quiet Anni was bad, it was just concerning. Quiet Anni usually meant something was badly wrong.

“Okay, but the offer’s still there if you want it later!”

Anni chuckled weakly, letting go of their hand to allow them the freedom to wheel themself over to The Pit. Once they were both there and safely within it’s cozy confines, she drew Fresh Cut Grass in, burying her face in their coily locks.

“... Had a full day of bullshit. Couldn't scream at asshole customers, then at the end had my stupid fuckin’ boss scream at me for not ‘smiling enough’. Like me feigning that I don't wanna kill all those fuckers ain't enough for that bastard! Threatened to sack me if I don't act more like the ‘sweet, pretty ladies’ he likes out front…"

They nodded along sympathetically, lips pursed tight as they did. Both in an attempt to give Anni the space she needed to rant, and to keep their own opinions to himself for now.

“...Then the fucker got handsy. So I slapped him, because NO ONE gets to touch me like that! The bastard then had the audacity to threaten to call the cops on me if I didn't quit on the spot! … So now I'm jobless, pissed off and… and…”

Fresh Cut Grass could feel Anni shudder in their arms, as they felt the incredibly rare flames of white hot fury burn from deep within. That man would certainly need to face justice. Or at least find himself a few teeth down and a rib or three broken in a dark alleyway one night, if Ashton were to have their way.

Honestly right now violence didn't seem all that awful of a solution.

But maybe, to be safe, they should bring this up with Gramps Eshteross first. If Anni was okay with that. A thought for later though.

“Anni I… I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve any of that. I sure hope you gave him a smack at least.”

“Fuck yeah I did. You know I gave it my all! He’s gonna be bruised for at least a week.”

“Good! … But um… still. That- We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to. I won't force you to talk about anything you don't want to. But this- I mean, you're safe with me, Anni. I know I'm not super strong like Ashton, or quick witted and fast thinking like Milo, but I'd do anything to keep you safe, Ni! You're real important to me… I love you. A lot.”

“... Fuck G-Grass,” Anni’s voice wavered dangerously, the imminent threat of tears coming to all so fast as suddenly, and with little warning, she was sobbing into Freah Cut Grass’ unnaturally silver locks. There he held her, steady and close, whispering gentle words of affirmation. Most went right over her head, instead their sweet tone being all she heard.

And honestly? That was all she needed right now.

Just kindness, honest and pure, and the safety of being in the trusted arms of one she loved so deeply.

To be free to cry, to feel, without having to feign a thing.

[arethereanyoriginalusernames]

Bubble Gum

A story/writing practice with my characters. This was supposed to be short… RIP

———-

Synopsis: Childhood friends don’t always last forever. Sometimes they part ways and never met again for years. Sometimes they grow to hate each other. Sometimes one goes on a desperate bid to kill the other because her little sister is being held hostage, she’s been socially isolated for two years, everything is crumbling around her, and she can’t kill one damn patchwork troll!

…Oh yeah, and sometimes childhood friends who grow apart can grow close again.

———————

‘Pop!’

The young demon beside her jumped at the sound of her bubble gum bubble popping. He jumped so high, in fact, he somehow glued himself to the ceiling ten feet above their heads. Arryn couldn’t keep herself from laughing at his terrified expression, until she started to choke slightly on her gum.

Trix detached himself from the ceiling and landed back beside her, and promptly started slapping her on the back.

“Regurgitate! Regurgitate! Regurgitate!” He shrieked.

In spite of her choking, this only made Arryn laugh harder, giggling between coughs. Eventually she was able to cough up her gum, and gave Trix, who was still hitting her and screaming, a hard shove.

“M’kay, I’m fine, staaaph!”

Trix rolled over quilted blankets and patchwork pillows onto his bedroom floor, made up of several different sets of tiles. At the foot of the bed, there was a small noise as Arryn’s baby sister awoke. Arryn quickly reached over to reassure her, and, thankfully, with a tiny yawn, she went back to sleep.

Arryn gave Trix a sharp kick to his side.

“Way to go, patches! You woke Lithie up!”

“It’s not my fault!” He protested, “You pushed me off the bed!”

“You deserved it!”

“And startled poor little me with that awful awful pink evil!”

“It’s called bubble gum, dummy!”

“The pink evil! Oh spare me, spare me!”

“Oh, get up, you wimp!”

“Place two coins over my eyes for the ferryman!”

“Alright, that’s it!” And with that, she flew off the bed, and started tickling him under the ribs. Trix let out another shriek, darting away and grabbing one of his many pillows. Realizing what was happening, Arryn too grabbed a nearby pillow, and held it up just in time to block an attack from Trix.

The two chased each other in circles around the room, laughing as they both took swings at each other. Unsurprisingly, their ruckus woke Lithie, who groggily sat up by herself. Well, at least as well as a three year old could. She watched the two through sleepy eyes as Trix suddenly collided into Arryn, knocking them both down. They wrestled about on the floor when suddenly the bedroom door was swung open with a crash that shook the walls. Followed by a scream that shook the whole room.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE DARKEST DEMON LORDSHIP’S ASS ON A STRIPPER POLE IS FUCKING GOING ON, YOU UNHOLY PIECES OF SHIT?!”

Both children practically levitated back up to their feet, and stood straight, side by side with hands behind their backs, with the cutest, sweetest expressions of innocence they could muster. An unimpressed Jadis glared back at them, her fingers drumming furiously on the door frame. Cold green eyes flicked back and forth between the two, while a black forked tongue darted out from between her gritted teeth. After a few moments, she inhaled deeply before speaking in a quieter, but no less frightening tone.

“What. Are you two doing?”

“Oh, we are playing, of course!” Trix responded, still keeping an innocent look on his face. Jadis, still not impressed, raised an eyebrow, and turned her attention to Arryn.

“Didn’t I give you some gum earlier? Why don’t you go sit and chew that quietly until the boss comes back?”

Before Arryn could respond, a whine came from Trix.

“How come she gets candy?”

“Because she passed her test today and you didn’t.” Jadis said coolly, “Also because I wasn’t told you little weasels were expecting treats, and I don’t feel like heading to earth today. And Arryn’s lucky I happened to still have a quarter of a pack of bubble gum in my pocket.”

Arryn puffed out her chest with pride, while Trix pouted. Jadis rolled her eyes, and, told them to play nice, and left, muttering about how she wished that the boss didn’t always leave her to babysit two twelve year olds.

Arryn glanced over to the bed to see Lithie crawling over to the edge of the bed, and rushed to catch her before she fell off. She carried her little sister in the arms, and turned back towards Trix, who hadn’t moved an inch.

Arryn couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. Being taught by the same teachers in shared lessons, they were often compared to each other. Arryn usually favoured over Trix. She took out a piece of her gum, walked over, and held it out for him. Trix glanced at it, but turned away and continued to pout.

Arryn groaned. “Fine, be that way!”

She turned around to place Lithie on the ground when Trix spoke up.

“Let’s make a deal.”

He turned around to face her.

“When we’re grown up, whoever’s the better demon gets rewarded a giant packet of bubble gum!”

Arryn burst out laughing, sure he was joking. Then she saw his expression. He was serious. She squared her shoulders, and stuck out her hand with a smirk on her face.

“Deal.”

They shook on it.

It was silly, sure, but maybe it could be a shared joke between the two. Arryn looked forward to teasing Trix about the promised bubble gum in the future.

After all, as far as she could tell, they’d easily stay friends long into adulthood, surely.

************

It was a dark and blustery night. Winds whistling past suggested a storm brewing. A crescent moon illuminated storm clouds rapidly spreading across an indigo sky. Scattered lamp posts were lit around the quarry, making a path of sorts for those lost in the night.

Arryn was perched atop the tin roof of an old, rusty house. She could only speculate what the house might have been for, given how run down and empty it was. She kept her gaze fixated on a specific lamp post, one located just by the door of the house. Any sound she heard made her grip the handle of her scythe tightly, ready to ambush anyone who stepped into the light of the lamp post. She had been waiting awhile, and while she stayed at the ready, her mind still wandered down memory lane.

It had been a considerable length of time since she and Trix last spoke properly, and Arryn reckoned that she hadn’t seen him since she had become the grim reaper’s pupil. That was a while ago, 4 years back maybe. Friendships don’t always last an eternity, and it perhaps wasn’t surprising that she and Trix had drifted apart. Although, she had often wondered if their friendship could have lasted longer. The two had always enjoyed playing together, sparring, dreaming about the future, and pulling silly pranks on others. They had enjoyed each other’s presence, but it was clear how it had soured. Arryn was always the best. Arryn always had so much potential. Trix was only known for being the son of Surgat, the head of their legion, Legion 333. He was always slower at learning magic and discovering his powers. That fake personality of his definitely didn’t do him any favours. Was him being relegated to being a summonable demon what did it? It was very likely, given how that position was usually given to demons who weren’t as proficient in gathering souls. Meanwhile, Arryn had been given the role of Roaming Demon, a position given to demons who could do their job in seeking out sinners damn well.

It was a shame, really. Arryn had liked having him as a friend. It was going to feel so strange to kill him. She didn’t want to, especially because she didn’t have anything personal against the guy, but…

Lithie was in danger as long as Ceries wasn’t given what she wanted. Arryn had no clue why Ceries needed Trix dead, but she wasn’t going to risk her sister’s life to find out. She knew what Ceries was capable of, and there was no way in hell Arryn was going to let her hurt Lithie.

The sound of a humming tune and footsteps alerted her to someone approaching. He was close enough now that Arryn could make out his silhouette in the dark. She gritted her teeth and readied herself. She had always bested Trix every time they fought, and this would be no different. She decided to make it quick. That way she wouldn’t have time to change her mind.

********

She lost. And she lost again. And again. And again. And again and again and again and again and again and

How? How did this happen? How did she keep failing? How long was this going to go on?

As she lay on her back, rain falling on her face and into her eyes, she prayed that it wouldn’t be long. Her blood flowed from severed fingers into puddles of mud, and she didn’t want to look down and see the state of her torso. She didn’t want to see the large gash left behind by a vindictive Ceries. Nor did she want to look at the hair ribbon clutched in her one good hand, a promise by Ceries of what was to become of Lithie.

Tears burned her eyes and cheeks as she imagined what Lithie must be going through. Ten. Ten years old. That’s how old her sister got to be. And now, because of Arryn’s failure, that’s all Lithie would get to be.

And it was all because of that damn patchwork demon. Somehow, some way, Trix had some sort of fire lit within him. She saw it in their fights, a sort of drive and passion she’d never seen from him before. She had no clue where that came from, until she kidnapped that one girl Trix was always running after.

She was a jellyfish shifter with the blankest face Arryn had ever seen. Missi was her name. Missi and Trix were always together, and it was clear that Trix was infatuated with her, although Missi… well, it was hard to tell. Nonetheless, all Arryn wanted was an edge. She was running out of chances. All that had to happen was for Trix to give himself up in exchange for Missi’s life.

What Arryn hadn’t expected was for Trix to snap. He lost the fake, theatrical persona. He didn’t fight in his usual playful way. He fought to kill. All the while berating Arryn for taking away not just the love of his life, but one of the few people who didn’t make him feel like a worthless disappointment.

‘Well, that certainly explained some of it’ Arryn thought bitterly as everything around her became a blur. The last thing she remembered was what looked like a figure made entirely of patches standing above her, trying to lift her out of the mud.

********

“You came!”

Arryn glanced up at the smiling demon before her before casting her eyes back down.

“Yeah? You told me to come and… I don’t have much else to do.”

Arryn hadn’t planned on accepting Trix’s invitation to meet at the park. After everything that happened, she had no energy to deal with Trix being himself right now. Perhaps she should be grateful. Despite everything, he had been the one to pull her to safety, help patch her up, and help her rescue Lithie. Thanks to him, Ceries was gone, and Lithie was safe. He had even taken on the responsibility to be Lithie’s mentor while Arryn recovered. All that, after the numerous times Arryn had tried to kill him.

She should be happy. She knew that. She did try. From positive thinking exercises to practicing with makeup, Arryn tried to get back to normal. She even sent a message to her ex-girlfriend to see if they could talk. And yet… all it took was a glimpse of her missing index and pinky fingers, or the sight of the ugly scar across her stomach. The world always faded to grey misery as an unyielding sense that her life was over returned.

The damp grass and the wet park bench really didn’t help. She could feel the cold water seep through her boots and socks, leaving her feet clammy and uncomfortable.

Trix hopped down beside her on the bench. Arryn hardly reacted, but she did notice the wrapped present in his hand. She raised an eyebrow.

“Bit early for Christmas.”

Trix laughed and began another one of his silly monologues.

“Why no, comrade! Though I’d be glad! Holidays, everyday? It would drive me mad….” He paused. “Ok, but seriously, I did want to give you something. And… talk.”

Arryn flinched, taken off guard by Trix dropping his bizarre, Shakespearean way of speaking and… talking normally? She was always well aware that he was faking it, but he never stopped, even when called out for it. He only dropped it whenever he was extremely emotional. This was the first time Arryn had heard him speak casually in his actual voice, and it was a little jarring.

She sat up straighter and looked over at him. His posture was more relaxed, as was the expression on his face. It was so… odd. Arryn expected him to break it, and go back to doing something random, like cartwheeling over the bench, babbling in rhyme. But instead they both sat in silence for a while.

Finally, Arryn spoke up, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well,” Trix paused again, “… First, I wanted to mention that Lithie has been doing great in training. She managed to take out a stick mannequin!”

Arryn smiled slightly. “That’s… great. But… you do know that Lithie…”

“Probably won’t be fighting anyone any time soon? Yeah…”

Indeed, Lithie’s powers at this consisted of being able to summon flowers. Sometimes the flowers could send someone to sleep, but it wasn’t much. Her magic was undeniably developing much slower than expected and it was very likely that she wouldn’t grow up to have particularly strong magic.

“Um… not to change the topic or anything, but here.”

The present fell into Arryn’s lap. She hesitated before carefully unwrapping it to find a large, pink box.

It was a family sized package of bubble gum.

“Remember how we agreed that whoever turned out to be the strongest demon got a large thing of bubble gum as a reward?”

Arryn looked over at him, bewildered.

“Are… are you fucking with me?”

“Hm?”

“After… after everything… you realize that I lost to you a billion times? And you had to save Lithie because I couldn’t?”

Trix sighed and drummed his fingers on his knee. He pondered a bit before finally replying.

“… Truth is I should have given you that a long time ago. I lost any chance at being stronger or better long before we had ever made that deal. Someone who’s ‘strong’ doesn’t pretend to be something they’re not. They don’t try to mimic what they think is strong. I’ve spent my life playing a character I thought would make people take me seriously. I figured that people expected more from me given who my father is. When my father told me he didn’t expect me to be an almighty demon on his level, I didn’t believe him. Missi and the others told me that playing up a character is foolish but…”

He trailed off, and Arryn was about to elbow him to continue before he spoke again. “Then I started mentoring Lithie and… I think I get just how foolish it was.”

Arryn rolled her eyes, “what? My little sister give you a lecture or something?”

“No. It’s because… if I tell myself that if I don’t live up to some ideal, if I don’t prove myself to be the best, if I make myself out to be some sort of disappointment… what do I tell Lithie when she still can’t use her powers to fight back properly?”

An uncomfortable silence settled over them as Arryn realized what he meant. After a minute or so, Trix pushed the box further into Arryn’s hands.

“My point is, I don’t want Lithie to do what I have, to feel what I feel. I’ve ended friendships and ruined things because I wanted to be a ‘proper demon’. Nowadays… it’s hard not to play things up. I still feel like I need people to be freaked out by me just a little bit, even though I’m not trying to be some terrifying demon anymore. Plus, it’s hard for me to do things like… help others emotionally. When Missi was going through some serious things, I couldn’t help! I was stuck in this way of acting, and I couldn’t break it! I didn’t know how’d I’d explain why I…”

Trix finally seemed to give up, slumping forward and burying his face in his hands. Arryn sat quietly, processing everything. Then, as quietly as she could, she popped a piece of gum in her mouth, chewed, blew a bubble, then….

‘POP!’

Trix sprung off the bench in surprise, falling and landing in the wet grass. Arryn smirked.

“At least you didn’t attach yourself to the ceiling that time.”

Trix looked up at her, a confused look on his face until Arryn tossed him a piece.

“Hey, you bought me a damn family pack, I’m not eating this all myself! Besides, then you’d have me doing this for ages!”

“Doing what-?”

‘POP!’

**

Lithie hurried through the park, looking for the bench Arryn and Trix were supposed to meet at. It had been a while, and she was growing concerned. Her worry grew when she finally came across the park bench only to find it empty.

Then, she heard noise from across the field. Some ways away, Arryn and Trix were running about, Trix trying to keep Arryn from popping her gum, only for her to sneak up behind him and do it again.

Lithie smiled, glad to see the two on better terms, and most of all, to see her sister being genuinely happy again. As she sat down to watch them, her eyes grew heavy. She soon fell asleep on the bench.

And when Arryn and Trix found her, they carried her home, chatting happily like nothing had changed.

[itsthe-neo-zone]

[03:18PM] ~ Park Jongseong x Reader, Apocalypse au

You didn’t want to live with the misery of regretting everything.

But that all went out the window as soon as the apocalypse began.

2 weeks, it’s been 13 whole days and 12 nights since the whole world decided to end itself.

The reason? An outbreak, a malicious deadly disease terraforming the earth in its own way. Killing everyone and everything with it. And when you say terraforming you mean turning us all against each other.

You regretted waking up that Wednesday morning, regretted getting out of bed, not hugging your mother in your arms longer and giving your family a proper farewell.

You were in school when it happened your district sounding the sirens, mid-week morning meaning you were in the dinner halls, you heard the sirens and all hell broke loose, the diners small tv monitor picked up an emergency broadcast.

Shaking your head subconsciously you drifted your mind away from what happened. It had been difficult thinking the past few days, even eating was becoming a luxury at times.

Like now, you’ve been wandering empty suburb streets looking for something to sustain yourself, where you were looked to be like a neighbouring district, but you weren’t sure, the sign posts were all ripped down to make any form of defence weapon, supplies were scarce at this point.

The scent on you was horrid but not as putrid as the stench of rotting corpses filing the earth. You stopped turning to look around you. The street was dusted with ruined houses all damaged and crumbled to the grounds.

Maybe you could crash into an abandoned one, maybe there was food and maybe you’d finally be able to use an actual bathroom. Your stomach grumbled with delight at the thought of food.

As you were about to pull the rusting metal rod in your hand towards the nearest property you heard a shrieking ear deafening pop,

The blood hit your brain, adrenaline began quickly building up inside you, like a band slowly stretching about to snap, your heart rattling in your chest. It tightened slightly. You swayed slightly from the shock of adrenaline hitting your numb body.

You swiftly turned to see nothing behind you but a pelleted bullet, someone around you had a weapon, and their target? You.

You began seeing the blurred edges of your sight return a sign to take response. Fight or flight. You chose the latter feeling weaker than expected. Heading outwards past the last few properties your best hope was to lose your hunter out in the wilderness.

Brushing past leaves twigs and the thicket of the edges of the lush greenery you low down once you’re no longer hearing bullets trailing after you. It was quiet

Almost too quiet to be normal. You push yourself up against a tree, straining your breath to regulate faster than it should. You regretted being stupid to do that too as you felt the persisting tickle at the back of your throat.

It let a much needed cough to begin crawling up your oesophagus. Shutting your eyes for a moment you stiffened your lips slightly holding it back. Why now of all times, you’d been surviving fine…

You could hear a slight crunch of foliage under careful feet, slowly creeping up on you.

You’d be done for this time if they did have a weapon. Trembling fingers dug into the metallic rod in your palms, they’d make indents from how hard you were gripping.

Feeling your chest tighten a little. The metal was starting to feel slippery in between clammy fingers but you held it to your face keeping your stance ready.

You were scared, no, terrified even. But that didn’t mean you were going to give up so easily. You wanted to survive, you had to.

Ironic.

A few weeks you were ready to give up on life itself.

As you sighed, you prepared to turn and show yourself but as you made a move you felt something restrict your breath and pull you away from the edge of the tree. You didn’t have your hand on your mouth though.

It was a foreign feeling but it was something you greeted with open arms, it was warm, and you forgot the caress of another on your cold stiff body.

Caress of another? It wasn’t my hands.

Gunshots sounded across the clearing you hid from. Disturbing screeches of birds fleeted from above. A harsh thump fell to the floor. A limp body.

But it wasn’t yours. You still had a chance.

Eyes widening, you registered the figure behind you keeping you hold in a strong grip.

The surging boost of energy you had left pushed you to kick with your feet. Backwards tripping up your attacker. The gunshots stopped but you were sure it was them, not just one but 2, maybe more…

The figure fell back unable to balance themselves but you were pulled back, you pushed yourself out of their hold, they pulled away regained their stance before attacking you from your side,

the male twisted his arm around your head and the other at your waist holding your arms down. He was agile and had strength but you managed to be faster. Quickly thinking, you moved.

Digging your elbow into their side hitting them right beneath their rib cage.

Bingo,

you heard a slight grunt they pushed away from you trying to recover.

You turned grabbing the rod, eyes shaking to survey the sight before you. It was just one, you swing your arms back getting ready to attack.

“Stop!” A strained call out towards your direction, but you faltered, it wasn’t for you? He directed it behind you falling back slightly. You turned to see another male.

Eyes trained like he was about to pounce on his prey. What was more horrifying was the gun now in his hold pointed directly at you.

“Don’t, Jake, she’s harmless.”

His arms stayed firmly ahead of him holding the weapon. “Harmless my ass, you were about to lose your head,” his fingers wavered.

“Just listen to me.” The guy stood up. You noticed the tattered and beaten up clothes they wore, rips and smears all over each article. Dried blood splattered across parts of their body. Judging by the colour it wasn’t from today.  

The combat boots the two wore made you think twice about setting down your weapon as you remained in your stance.

But their eyes and faces showed different,

They were anxious, in pain, alert like you.

“Idiot.” He dropped his arms. Mumbling before walking towards the other who was now slowly guiding himself down by supporting himself on the tree.

His face was etched with strain. And for a second you felt a pang of regret. You shrugged the feeling away watching the two converse.

“Are you survivors?” you swayed slightly, pressing forward kept your feet stable you regrated the shakiness your voice had, first people you spoke to in a while and you sound like you were about to cry.

“Just barely,” one huffed, “As I said he was about to lose his head.” The one named Jake turned from tending to his friend and shot you a dirty glare.

Jakes eyes were intense and focused, he didn’t flit nor shy away. Pressing further. You subconsciously step back, eyes looking past him and towards his friend.

“I had to protect myself.” You pull your arms downwards stepping out of the position and lowering your guard slightly.

“Mhm, sure.” He muttered. He turned back lifting the others shirt. A long tear in the seamless skin ran down the males side. It wasn’t bleeding, it looked like it was an old scar. Just barely healed.

“You’re, fine,”

“She had, shit, every right to do that.” The other caught his breath then spoke.

“Right.” Jake pressed his lips into a thin line. It looked like he wasn’t having any of that, his jaw clenched, he was stopping himself from speaking any further.

Standing up and walking past you. He glanced at you up and down before moving back to the clearing.

“Sorry about that,” the boy sitting at the bottom of the tree pushed himself to try getting to his feet, you stared cautiously your fingers tingling to help him, so now you were starting to get your humanity back? Where was this feeling a few days ago?

The fliting sound of slipping feet against the rough terrain is what brought your focus back as you moved to assist him. He groaned.

His eyes caught yours, cautious and foreign, was this just the way he looked at people him or was he anxious to be around you.  

“I’ll … uh.” Your hand waivered, before holding his free arm. “I’ll help you.”

“Um… Thanks.” He nodded clenching his jaw he pushed himself up with your help.

“I’m jay.” His lips pressed into a thin line the edges pushing upwards slightly as he nodded, he stayed silent for a second. You figured out this was an introduction a few seconds late, sucking in a quick breath you mumbled.

“Ah i- yeah…. I’m _____ .” your face tensed up. Jay flashed you a lopsided smile.

“Sorry about earlier, I had to make sure you didn’t interfere while Jake finished up with—uh…”

“Were you the—” you paused. How were you going to ask him if he was the one that was chasing you. How do you word that without sounding weird. “the… I was—”

“You mean the gunshots?” he mumbled.

You quickly nodded giving yourself a mini headache at the fast movement.

“No, we were… in the distance, yeah, when we heard the sound. Just me and Jake.” He lead you to the clearing.

You were slowly introduced into the new space, you watched Jake push the body dressed in black to the side. There was someone following you his face hidden beneath the mask.

“Found all this.” He kicked at the floor with his foot. “shit thing is he’s probably a trained assassin.” He nodded towards the pile of weaponry. “All in his bag, some on him,”

Jake stood up facing Jay. “We need to fucking leave, where there’s one there’s always more.” He lifted a few small items. Something that looked like a smaller loaded gun, testing its scope he tucked it into his pocket.

“Here, take that.” He threw a shielded knife at jay and grabbed a larger gun and handed it to the male next to you.

“lets go.” He walked past Jay and farther out.

As Jay turned he caught your eyes, he saw the anxious glimmer, the shiver you tried to hid and the fact that your fingers were digging in to your palm.

“Our chances of survival are bigger…” he stated. It cut you out of the worry trail your brain was starting to follow,

“Together than apart.”

You caught his eyes. Jay was trying to be as friendly as he could, you could see a glimmer of hope, something you lost within the first 3 days.

“Are you-, I’m sorry I’m a bit confused right— shit, I’ll just ask… are you asking me to…”

“You should come with us.” You silently thanked him for putting you out of your misery. Shocked he was asking you this. And relieved to have met people you could somewhat trust.

“What?”

“HEY! Hurry up if you want to fucking live dude!” Jake was already way ahead.

“Gimme a second!” he sighed, calling out.  

“I was wondering if you wanted to join us. That is if you’re not with anyone right now.”

You could almost cry from the surge of relief you felt. It was almost draining the life out of you fending for yourself. And night-time was when it got its worst alone. No more going crazy talking to yourself.

“Yeah, that would be great.” You voiced out, he smirked, hearing your voice so relieved.

“Glad to hear.” He nodded towards the direction they were headed. Leading you further ahead.

“Do you know how to wield a gun?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll teach you don’t worry.”

~~~

(thinking of truning this idea into a fic what do you think?)

Seola - It’s the neo zone © All rights reserved.

[heytherejulietx]

suspect - richie tozier

↳ based on a headcanon that me and @violetblvd came up with because we have big brains :)

↳ content warnings - swearing, brief depictions of depression, aged up losers, mostly just fluff though

↳ 2.6k word count

masterlists

@bucky-j-barnes @mikewheelerc @whaddyam3an @justanotherkpopstanlol join my tag list

“are you okay? you weren’t at the clubhouse earlier, i missed you.” y/n could practically hear richie’s pout through the phone as he spoke. he always spoke in the same almost-whining tone whenever he pouted. it was adorable, really.

it wasn’t often that she skipped out on spending time with the losers. most of the time they were the reason she left the house, aside from school. they were found family and she spent as much time with them as possible. and richie, she could barely ever resist time with him. they had been dating for well over a year, and basically spent every day together. and most nights, when richie snuck in through her window.

though y/n had been feeling off recently. she had times when she’d distance herself from others, not because anything had happened, but because she just felt down and unhappy. and over the past few days she’d been feeling worse and worse. really, she knew that even if she just saw richie it would make her feel so much better. but she couldn’t bring herself to leave the house unless she had to. it just seemed like too much effort that she didn’t have the energy for.

“sorry, i meant to call and say i wasn’t going. i didn’t really feel like it today.” y/n responded, and leaned back against the wall beside the phone.

“are you okay?” richie repeated, and she could hear the worry in his tone.

“i’m okay, rich, i promise. i just needed some time alone today.” she said softly, twisting the phone cord between her fingers as she spoke.

“alright, but you know you can call if you need anything right?”

“i know,” she smiled softly at his thoughtfulness. “i’ll call if i need you, I promise.”

“alrighty. i gotta go, stan is glaring at me to get off of his phone,” richie snickered and she could then briefly hear stan complaining in the background. “i love you.”

“i love you too, rich.”

once she had hung up the phone y/n sighed, frowning a little. she knew that richie could tell that something was up. he was the only person she saw when she felt like that, and he could easily tell the difference in her behaviour. on days when he’d see her feeling down he would be sweeter and more gentle. richie would run her a bath and wash her hair or order her food (he tried cooking for her once but almost set fire to her kitchen), or he’d just lay with her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her. she really appreciated how much he cared for her, especially when she needed him the most. the thought of how much he cared for her made her want to see him more and she frowned, knowing that she’d have to wait until tomorrow.

y/n found herself back upstairs in her bedroom after she had something to eat. it was nearing seven in the evening, though despite the time she decided to just try and sleep in the hopes of feeling better when she woke up. she stripped off her clothes and pulled on one of richie’s many t-shirts that she kept at her house. originally he had brought them there in case he ever wanted to stay the night to wear something else in the morning, but most of the time she wore his clothes for bed. when richie first noticed her wearing his clothes he seemed pretty fond of it himself, which only encouraged her to do it more.

the weather had started warming up recently so y/n kept her window open as she climbed underneath the covers of her bed with a sigh and settled herself against the pillow, attempting to get comfortable. she just started drifting off to sleep half an hour later when she heard a tap at her window.

y/n scrunched her eycbrows together a little, at first thinking maybe she’d just made the noise up in her sleepy state. like when you think you’re falling right as you start going to sleep. though at the next tap, which was considerably louder than the first, she rolled over to see what it was and was met with doe eyes and a goofy grin. of course.

his grin grew as he reached his hand out to pull her window all the way open so he could climb into her bedroom. y/n couldn’t hold back a quiet giggle as he did a stupid somersault across her windowsill which caused him to land on her floor with a thump, and narrowly missed whacking his head on her bookshelf.

“rich,” she giggled, as she propped herself half-up on her elbow. “what’re you-“

“crrch,” he cut her off by mimicking the static sound of a walkie talkie, not rising from the floor. “i have snuck into the suspects bedroom, i repeat i’m in, crrch.” he held his hand up to his mouth like he was actually holding a walkie talkie, and with his free hand he slipped his backpack off of the one shoulder he had it slung over. it landed on the floor beside him before he started slowly moving across her bedroom floor, like he was making a very poor attempt at not being seen by her.

“crrch, suspect has a very pretty bedroom, safe to assume she’s also very pretty, crrch.” y/n giggled quietly as she leaned up a little to see him.

as she laughed he almost theatrically whipped his head up to see her and his eyes widened, feigning shock as he stood up so quickly that he almost lost his balance altogether. she could see in his eyes that he wanted to laugh. he always wore the same exact expression when he was truly entertained; to be honest she was surprised he hadn’t burst into laughter yet.

“crrch she’s seen me! oh god i’ve been caught!” she started laughing as he shouted, holding his free hand out with his fingers out like a gun. “crrch oh god! she’s so adorable it hurts! she’s giggling! oh she’s so pretty!” he gasped and she held her own hand out like a gun as he did. “fuck she’s armed! she has a gun crrch!” y/n laughed as he groaned dramatically, his hand flying to cover his chest as he attempted a poor act of being hurt. “i’ve been shot!”

richie dramatically stumbled over towards her bed where he finally toppled over right on top of her and fell with his back against her stomach, groaning again with his hand still clutching his chest.

“i have a wife and kids and you shot me-“ he started shouting dramatically before she clasped her hand over his mouth to get him to shut up, still laughing herself.

“you’re gonna make my parents hear you asshole.” she giggled, and sat up to see him better which left him laying across her thighs instead.

“hey, you’re the one that shot me,” he mumbled underneath her hand, and when she removed it he was grinning despite still trying to feign hurt. “you’re lethal.”

“do you want me to kiss it better, richie?” y/n raised her eyebrows, amused.

“oh please my darling that would be delightful!” he grinned up at her as he spoke in his terrible british accent, and she laughed again as she looked down at him.

“okay,” she giggled. “where are you hurt?”

“right here.” he smirked up at her as he pointed to his lips.

“in the mouth?”

“yeah, you’re really violent.” he snickered.

“if i shot you in the mouth why were you holding your chest-“

“oh just shut up and kiss me.” richie complained and y/n giggled as she leaned down towards him, smiling against his lips as they met. she felt his hand lift to rest on her cheek and his touch felt warm against her skin. she practically melted into him with a quiet sigh against his mouth. y/n seriously underestimated how much she needed to be with him earlier.

when she leaned away from him he was grinning up at her still, and his hand was no longer resting over his chest.

“all better?” she teased, and lifted her hand to reach down and ruffled his mop of curly black hair.

“yep, good as new toots. you should be a nurse,” richie leaned up to leave another kiss against her lips before he sat up completely so he was no longer laying across her. “now that i’m all better, i guess i have to finish what i came here to do.” he sighed dramatically, though he had his up to no good smirk on as he turned to face her.

“kill me? rich i don’t-“ y/n started, though cut herself off with a laugh when he turned and slipped his hands under her shirt to tickle his fingers across her ribs.

as she started to squirm away from him he moved to kneel over her, and as his knees bracketed her thighs she couldn’t go anywhere. asshole.

“richie-“ she gasped through her laughter, her attempts at pushing his hands away doing nothing. “okay okay you got me! you got me!” she laughed, and still kicked her legs even though it did nothing with where he was sat over her.

richie was grinning down at her, wearing his smug look that made her want to either smack him or kiss him, depending on what he was doing. after another moment of y/n’s attempted complaints through her laughter richie moved his hands from her sides, and instead held her hands down against her pillows as she giggled with the ghosting of his tickles.

“you’re an asshole,” y/n giggled, her face flushed red as she looked up at him. she felt his fingers interlock with hers as he pushed hers down against her pillow and she squeezed his gently, despite still lifting her leg to knee him in the back. “that was mean.” she pouted, poorly holding back her smile.

“i just wanted to make my best girl laugh,” he sighed dramatically. from where he was kneeling above her his hair had fallen in front of his eyes, curly black strands laying across his forehead in a way that made him look so pretty. richie was hot, everybody knew richie was hot, richie knew richie was hot. so usually if she complimented him it didn’t seem to phase him. though whenever she called him pretty he’d go a little pink, almost bashful. it made her always want to call him pretty. “plus i missed you today, i needed to make up for not annoying you earlier. i took it out on stan instead, i think he even grew some grey hairs.” he snickered.

y/n rolled her eyes, though found herself smiling softly again when richie had leaned down to kiss her. his hands squeezed hers, still pressed up into the pillow, and she felt him smile against her lips that time. he pulled away only for a moment, his eyes meeting hers as he smiled, before he leaned back in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. and then to her other cheek. and then her nose. he was relentless, pressing kisses all over her face until she had scrunched up her nose and giggled, shaking her head to get him to stop when his hair started tickling her face.

“you’re so pretty.” richie smiled down at her when he leaned back again, and y/n flushed pink as he left a more gentle kiss to her lips before he pulled back, and let her hands go as he sat up properly.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” she mumbled, and giggled as he poked her sides.

“is this mine?” richie tugged on the shirt she was wearing, and his hand smoothed it out across her stomach to see whatever pattern was printed over the front of it. “i’m flattered that you find my fashion sense so inspiring, sweets.”

“if you leave your stuff here i’m going to wear it.” she pointed out, and he chuckled against her lips with the next kiss he gave her.

“hey, i brought you some stuff.” like a lightbulb switched on in his head to remind him why he was there, y/n watched as he jumped off of her and went over towards his backpack on the floor. richie lifted it up and sat it on the bed in front of her, and after fishing around in it for a moment (richie had tons of junk and trash in his backpack since he could never clear it out) he pulled out two cans of coke, a chocolate bar, and some trampled flowers that looked suspiciously like the ones her mother grew in their front garden.

deciding not to comment on the flowers, y/n smiled softly as she looked up at richie and sat up properly. “rich you didn’t have to get me anything.” she said softly, and reached out to take his hand.

“i know, i just wanted to get you something since you seemed a little down on the phone.” richie smiled softly as he gently squeezed her hand.

he probably knew that she felt more than just a little down, and he probably knew exactly how she was feeling as he’d witnessed it before. but y/n appreciated his thoughtfulness nonetheless. she appreciated that he didn’t make a big fuss of it like some other people would, and was just there for her instead.

leaning over the pile of things on her bed y/n let go of his hand to wrap her arms around his middle, murmuring a “thank you“ before she kissed his cheek. his arms wrapped tightly back around her, and y/n almost relaxed completely when she felt his lips press a kiss to her temple. soft moments like that where richie didn’t feel the need to be loud and brash meant so much to her. it was lovely to be with him in such a soft and vulnerable way. she got to see a side of him that nobody else did.

once they had moved the gifts from richie onto her bedside table and his backpack returned to its place on the floor, richie slipped his shoes off and got into the bed beside her with y/n tucked against his side. one of his hands were on her back underneath the shirt as his fingers traced delicate patterns across her back, and his other was clasped with one of hers resting on his stomach. y/n had her eyes closed with her ear to his chest, and as she listened to his heartbeat she could’ve sworn that everything was perfect for one shining moment.

“thank you.” she whispered after a moment, and squeezed his hand lightly with his own.

“it’s no problem, angel. i just thought you’d appreciate some chocolate-“

“no, not for that,” she shook her head as she smiled softly. “for making me feel better.”

richie didn’t say anything in response at first, and instead she felt his lips press a lingering kiss to the top of her head. she smiled softly, growing more tired the more relaxed he got her.

“all in a days work.” he mumbled along with another kiss and she smiled briefly, though was on the verge of falling asleep. completely relaxed in richie’s arms, she drifted off with a smile on her face feeling the best that she had in a week.

[peachyaone]

saviour

Pairings: Rengoku Kyojurou x gn! hashira! reader

Warnings: Kimetsu no Yaiba the Movie: Mugen Train spoilers!

A/N: I saw the new KNY movie, so I wrote this fic to cope with the pain.

plot: what if you were there just in time to save him?

You knew something was off from the moment Oyakata-sama gave Rengoku the mission of slaying the demons on board the train, not that you disagree on his judgment, but your intuition tells you that something bad would happen.

And some of your intuitions were never wrong.

So you requested to go in disguise, in case anything goes sideways. You have explained the situation to Oyakata-sama, who actually agreed with your proposal, after all those years you had your "predictions", most of them actually came true.

So you sent your crow after them, obscured from the eyes of civilians, but still visible to you. You waited. But then the incident happened, as the ticket inspector punched your card. Your head felt dizzy and you fell asleep.

You dreamt of a life with your family again.

It was warm and happy.

*timeskip*

By the time you woke up, it was chaos. You sluggishly stood up, everyone was still asleep. The train was shaky and the walls had seemed to turn into a flesh-like substance. You heard explosions and the train turned sideways. You unsheathed your blade and stabbed it into the floor to maintain your footing. You could hear your crow pecking at the windows.

"Attention! Upper Rank Three Demon has been spotted! Rengoku and the younger slayers are battling him as we speak." It squawked. You groaned as you pulled out your blade and sheathed it into your scabbard. "Where are they now, Hideyoshi?" you asked it. "Few kilometers west from here!" It squawked again. You thanked it before dashing off to where they were.

*3rd person*

Tanjiro and Inosuke were watching the fight with awe and also fear. In awe, because they have never seen a hashira in battle like this before and in fear because Rengoku was heavily injured and was still fighting. They were both afraid to join in because Tanjiro was injured and they were moving at a speed that the two of them can keep up.

They could see that Rengoku's movement was getting more powerful at every strike he made, Tanjiro gulped. "Goddamn it!" He thought, if only he could do something, anything but to watch the person he looked up to get destroyed like this. He prayed to the skies above that someone could help them.

And the skies answered him, like a flash of light passed by him and Inosuke. The person seemed to be glowing with light. He recognized you, you were one of the hashira's, you were sitting on the tree with the serpent hashira, Obanai.

He thanked the skies for answering his prayers.

*Back to your POV*

In the distance, you could see the flames coming off Rengoku's breathing styles and you could smell the blood in the air. You pushed yourself to move faster. You sped through the two younger slayers and attacked the demon.

"Y/N! What are you doing here?!" You heard Rengoku said as he dodged another attack from the demon. "Ah? Another Hashira I see, you're as strong as Kyojuro! Maybe even stronger!" The demon said as he shifted his attention toward you. You were his target now. "Now is not the time, Kyojuro!" You said, moving into position.

"Breath of Light, First Form: Aureate." You said, your sword turned a bright golden color as you swung your attack at him. It sliced through his arm, the demon yelped. You saw that he was struggling to regenerate. He looked at you, burning in fury and wonder. "So you ARE stronger than him, wow, I have never seen anything like this! I'm Akaza." He laughed.

After a few moments, his arms regenerated. You stood beside Rengoku. "He's badly injured." You noted. "His eye is crushed, broken ribs, internal bleeding." You thought. It amazed you how he still managed to move right now. "Kyojuro, take it easy okay? I got this." You assured him, giving him a small smile.

"Join me, Y/N! Become a demon and let us fight with each other forever!" You heard Akaza say. You growled. "As if I become a filthy demon like you!" You shouted at him. "You are incredibly strong, you would be perfect among our ranks, join us." He said. "Never." You said. "So be it!" He said, charging towards you. "Breath of Light-" "Breath of Flames-" The both of you said. "Combined attack: Blazing Light!" A light that could rival the sun shone from both of your attacks.

He tried to dodge it, but it was too powerful. The lower part of his torso was wiped clean. You smirked and walked towards Rengoku and the two children.

Your eyes widened.

You felt pain shot up your spine. You coughed up blood. "Y/N!" Rengoku screamed. You looked down to see Akaza had punched you.

Hard.

"You ass-" You spitted blood on his face. Making him take a few steps back to regain his senses, you distanced yourself from him. You gripped on your sword tightly. Blood streamed out from your lips and dripped into the ground. You could see Rengoku came running toward you. You held out your hand to stop him. "No." you thought. You can finish him, and you will.

You sprinted, sword beside you, with an intent to kill. "Breath of Light, Third Form: Fluorescence." Your sword glowed again, even brighter. You slowly take in your breath, successfully maintaining your breathing technique. You could feel your internal bleeding stop.

Akaza didn't have any time to react when your blade met his neck. It pierced halfway through, before getting stuck. "It's stuck!" You turned your head, to look at Rengoku. "Kyojuro!" You called out. He looked at you knowingly. He took his sword. "Breath of Flames, Ninth Form: Rengoku!" He dashed to where you're standing. Akaza laughed and gave you another punch.

CRACK!

It was your ribs.

You coughed out more blood. Rengoku looked at you worriedly. "Don't stop! Keep going, Kyo!" You said to him.

"Breath of Light, Fifth form: Dawn." You said. You gave your sword a push, as Rengoku's met yours. Akaza screamed in pain. "Die!" you shouted. You watched as his body start to disintegrate. "It was a pleasure, batting with you both." You heard him say before he dissolved into the air.

You staggered. Dropping your sword before collapsing to the ground. You looked up to the sky. You could hear the footsteps of the two slayers. "Hang in there!" said the burgundy-haired boy. You felt arms helping you up, it was Rengoku. "You scared me a little. I thought you were gonna die," he whispered. You chuckled. "You think I would be defeated that easily? Dream on." You said, breathlessly.

"Are you kids okay?" You asked. "Kamado-boy over here is injured," Rengoku said. "And boar boy?" You asked again. "I'm perfectly fine." He said cockily.

"Let go home, okay?" you said.

*timeskip*

You and Rengoku reached the Butterfly Estate after getting the civilians somewhere safe. Lying down on the bed, Shinobu came in with bandages and medicine. "Well, the both of you look like you went through hell and back." She said. "We technically did." You groaned as she wrapped the bandages around you.

"How's Rengoku, is he okay?" You asked. "He's fine. Like you said, crushed eye, three broken ribs, and internal bleeding." She said. "And the Kamado boy?" "He'll make it, he's lucky that he stopped the bleeding in time." She said.

"How bad is mine?" You asked her. "Two broken ribs, bruised torso, and a fractured ankle." She said. "It surprises me, how your body could withstand those punches." "Try training with Sanemi. It's hell." You chuckled.

"You and Rengoku will be off duty until your injuries healed completely. No sneaking around." She warned. "Yes, ma'am," You said before drinking the medicine she brought earlier. A knock came from outside. "Come in." You said.

Rengoku came in. "Hey, Shinobu!" He said, brightly. "Rengoku, your not suppose to move, you'll strain your injuries." She said. "But I wanted to see my Y/NNNN~" He whined. "Fine, fine. I'll leave you two lovebirds be," she said, leaving the room.

"So..." You said. He turned around, cupped your face, and gave a passionate kiss. "Wow, what was that for?" You whispered.

"I almost lost you today."

"Kyo, I'm not going anywhere, I'm not leaving you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Nemesis: Retribution (2)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: MENTIONS OF SMUT FOR THIS CHAPTER. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOURS. (18+ ONLY), polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, mentions of illnesses, momentary fluff, bit of angst care of Bucky, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, rejection, bullying, heartbreak, character death

A/N: I couldn’t resist not posting this early. Here you go. Next ones will probably take a while coz I have to be an actual adult for a bit. 

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:2 Dark Chocolate

A few days of rest was required to recover from a super soldier's punch. The doctors had said that you were lucky Steve hadn't punched you with full strength or else you would probably have a whole cracked rib cage. You were anxious to jump back in to training, not used to being idle for very long.

You were given some painkillers at the clinic and ordered to stay there for the rest of the afternoon for monitoring. When you woke up, it was early evening and a blonde super soldier was napping on a steel chair next to your bed. He jumped when you moved to sit up, his heightened senses alarmed and disoriented for a second before he quickly switched to repeatedly apologizing to you. You laughed out loud. It was just a little ridiculous to you to see such a commanding presence in the field so charmingly boyish and adorably embarrassed.

Steve was a comforting presence but to be honest you were hoping to see Bucky. You didn't get a chance to thank him since he left immediately after the doctors had ushered you into the examination room. Once you were cleared to return to training, you caught sight of his long brunette hair and the bright smile on your face couldn't be stopped. It was the glare he pinned you with that made you halt your approach.

He was back to his disapproval of your very existence.

You had to admit that it stung. You thought that you were getting somewhere with him after he helped you. At least somewhere outside of the realm of outward disdain. And maybe you were hoping just a little bit that it could lead down the road to him feeling the same about you.

The timing was perfect when you were assigned to your first official mission with the Avengers. It was a chance to prove your worth to the team and to Bucky in particular. A chance to maybe make him see you as more than just a troublesome recruit.

You came back from the mission with your head held high and absolutely glowing with confidence at the kudos from Sam and Natasha. The great Natasha Romanoff had complimented your sniping skills, picking off enemies in her area even before she could aim her own gun at them.

The first thing you wanted to do after getting back to the Compound was to tell Bucky. You wanted to brag a little bit and maybe even thank him for the mentoring. If he hadn’t been so hard on you then you wouldn’t have pushed yourself to be at this level. You were skipping down the halls of the Compound in search for him, clutching the bullet casing from your first official Avenger kill.

FRIDAY had informed you that he was in the training area and you were bouncing on your feet with excitement. As you entered though the place was empty, the rest of the agents having retired to the mess halls. You ventured further in, trusting FRIDAY’s intel until you heard some noises coming from the adjacent armory. You smiled, he must be cleaning his guns again.

As you got closer, the noise began to get louder until you could make out what was undeniably pleasured moaning, one low and gravelly while the other more high pitched. You should have turned away, if only for the privacy of the couple who was wrapped up in their passion, but your curiosity pushed you to come closer and peak through the small crack in the door.

The brief image that you saw made you instantly draw back, a shaking hand pressed to your mouth to silence the shocked gasp. You backed away slowly, your mind struggling to process what you had just seen, then your flight response kicked in and you ran like hell out of there. The scene was burning a hole in your brain and caused your skin to grow cold. Sergeant Barnes rutting hard against a woman wrapped around his waist, his glinting eyes locked with yours, and a cocky sneer on his face.

You didn’t go to dinner that night or to the team celebration for a successful first mission. You chose instead to lay in your bunk with tears burning in your eyes and trying to erase the memory of your discovery. Of course he was already dating someone. A man of his caliber was sure to have a line-up of gorgeous eager women at his disposal. He probably had no interest in boring recruits like yourself. The woman he was throwing into bliss must be some supermodel or high ranking spy. How did you even end up deluding yourself that you could possibly catch his eye?

The rest of your roommates filtered in after a few hours, chatting away noisily about the party. Anna had come to sit on the edge of your bed and ran a comforting hand along your arm, concern clearly etched on her face.

“I’m fine. Just tired. The mission really wore me out,” you muttered with a small smile. You weren't ready to talk about it yet.

“Personally I think I had better success today than all of you,” Kim’s shrill voice cut through the good natured conversations in the room.

She wasn’t part of the group taken on the mission, claiming beforehand that she was ill. A chorus of curious why’s rang out through the group and she preened at once again being the center of attention.

“Well I just had the fuck of a lifetime from none other than Sergeant James Barnes.”

The room of women burst into chaos; squeals of disbelief, rapid fire questions on how big he was and how good of a lay was he, were they dating now or was this a fuck buddy situation. Of course Kim was more than happy to entertain each question.

You tuned all of it out, the noise turning into an annoying ringing in your ear. You turned around to face the wall as the silent tears that refused to be contained any longer fell to wet your pillow. You barely registered Anna squeezing your shoulder or the words that Kim threw your way.

“Sorry, Y/N. I guess I was just more Bucky’s type.”

You curled yourself into a tighter ball as the pain in your chest radiated across your whole body. You had assumed wrong about Bucky. It seemed that he wasn’t opposed to dating new recruits.

He was just opposed to you.

The taunting from Kim continued on and you just couldn't take it any longer. You brushed the tears away, grabbed your sweater, and marched yourself to the door. You needed to get some air. You needed to get away. Anywhere but there. You wrenched open the door and almost came crashing straight toward a solid chest. Your eyes travelled up to lock with the kind blue gaze of Captain America. You wondered why Steve was standing at the doors of your bunkers holding a pack of beer in his hand.

"Good evening, ladies," he said to the room of now suddenly speechless females. "I'm just going to borrow Y/N for a bit."

The crowd remained in shocked silence while you stared at him in confusion as he smiled sweetly down at you. He had gone looking for you when he didn't see you at the celebration after Natasha and Sam had sang your praises to him at your performance. He wanted to congratulate you and bring you a drink for a job well done.

"Come on. I know a good spot," he said, placing a hand on your back and guiding you out.

Steve brought you to the top of an observatory in the Compound. It was quiet, peaceful, and offered a great view. He cracked open a bottle for you and the conversation just flowed naturally. He kept making you laugh until your sides hurt with stories about his time as a performer in the military and all the unfortunate videos that came with it. You were crying with pure joy when he relented and re-enacted his buy military bonds act, your earlier darkened mood forgotten for the moment.

Steve felt like he did something right when your glassy eyes and defeated expression was replaced with clear amusement. Even if it was at his expense. He wouldn't ask what the reason was, but he felt happy he made you feel better.

"Thank you, Steve," you muttered before you parted ways. Somehow both of you understood that it was more than just for the drink.

You promised yourself then that you would give yourself tonight to weep over your unfortunate romantic feelings. Only for tonight. Come morning you would focus all your energy on what you actually came here to do; become an Avenger. You slept fitfully that night, the shell casing from your first mission still gripped in your hand.

You made a conscious effort after that day to limit your interactions with Bucky and Kim to polite clipped conversations. At first Bucky had been surprised at your change in attitude, your blank expression and sparse words causing a momentary guilt to flash in his eyes. You had chosen instead to spend more time with Steve and the twins, your mood obviously brighter around them.

You were sitting now in a large conference room for a briefing on the next mission with a handful of other recruits when Sam Wilson sent you out to fetch the rest of the Avengers who were running late and not responding.

"Can you get them for me, sweetheart?" he chuckled, knowing that you blushed uncontrollably each time he used a nickname on you.

FRIDAY had directed you to the private common room exclusive for their use. You were about to knock on the door when you heard your name in the middle of what sounded like a heated argument. Against your better judgement, you leaned in closer.

"I don't think Y/N's cut out to be part of this team."

Your heart dropped. The conviction in Bucky's voice was clear. It was one thing for your infatuation with him to be forcefully thrown back at your face, but for him to explicitly state to a set of people that you held at such high esteem that you were not good enough was a whole other vicious heartbreak.

Lily was wrong. This time you should have known when to quit.

You forced yourself to crack the door wider and step inside, clearing your throat to announce your presence. You didn't see the startled look on their faces or the guilty one that followed when they realized that you had heard. One look at your sad glistening eyes that refused to look up confirmed it. Natasha and Steve both threw Bucky a deadly glare.

"Sam wants you all at a briefing. I was sent to come get you."

Your voice was so small and unsteady, none of the easy happiness and optimistic determination that it usually carried. Bucky felt the shame burn through him, the guilt drowning him in an instant. You weren't supposed to hear that. He took a step towards you, instinct driving him to do anything to wipe that defeated look off your face, but a threatening look from the twins pinned him in place.

"We'll walk back with you, little star," Pietro said softly, appearing beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Wanda came on the other side, looping your arm with hers.

For the rest of the briefing, you strained with the effort of focusing on Sam while blatantly ignoring Bucky. You knew he was staring a hole at the back of your head, but you couldn't allow yourself to give him any satisfaction by looking back. You were soon assigned your tasks, you being placed on sniper duty again having performed well the last time.

It was supposed to be a run of the mill mission for intel and taking out a criminal base, but with the expectation of more hostiles so a slightly bigger team was necessary. You practically flew out of the room when you were dismissed, not giving anyone a chance to talk to you. A decision was solid in your mind now for when you got back.

This would be your last mission.

The ride on the jet to the location was spent with you cleaning your gear and checking your weapons. You were sliding a few knives in place when Bucky came in front of you holding out another set of knives for you to take.

"You know if you tilt the hilt to the left you can fit more in one holster," he said.

It was odd hearing him with almost warmth in his tone toward you. If it had happened yesterday, you probably would be celebrating this fact. You nodded at him, but didn't say a word.

"Remember to keep your head low and stay on your post. Okay, doll?"

You nodded wordlessly again. Because you made a point not to look at his face, you missed the way he was struggling to say more to you and the disheartened look when you obviously weren't going to answer him. You ignored him for the rest of the ride, choosing to focus on reviewing the intel.

As far as bad intel could go, this had to be the worst. You were perched up on a densely covered hill a good distance away from the base that the rest of the team were storming. You were picking off as many hostiles coming out of the base as quick as your hands would allow. Your fingers were starting to ache from the constant reloading, your eyes stung from the gunpowder, and your lip was already bleeding from biting down on it.

The noise in the comms was pure mayhem. Each team member trying to ask for help, for backup, for a plan. You had all come expecting a fight but not an army prepared to defend. You were certainly not expecting HYDRA.

"They have Bucky."

Three words spoken that sent a cold dread to wash over all of you. HYDRA couldn't be allowed to take Bucky. You abandoned your post without a second thought and sprinted down toward the base, pistols at the ready for anyone coming your way.

"Last location," you asked urgently as you slipped into the building shooting down two agents immediately.

"West wing. Near the last corridor," Steve grunted, clearly having a hard time on his end. "Y/N, do not engage!"

"I'm the closest one, Cap."

"I'm close too. Just a little busy," Natasha huffed. "I'll follow, Y/N. Steve, we need to get the hell out of here."

Steve had reluctantly agreed, seeing that there was no other choice. He quickly barked orders and commanded you to keep safe. You nodded although he couldn't see it as you wove through the corridors at full speed in search of your teammate. The moment you barged into that last room, your eyes found an unconscious Bucky immediately.

Seeing him in that chair horrified you; shirt ripped, bleeding in several areas, skin pale and cold with sweat, chest rising and falling far too rapidly, and eyes that were unresponsive. You were so distracted by the jarring image that you failed to notice the operatives across the room until the bullets were burning through your soft flesh.

You screamed from the pain, but raised your gun and fired back until you heard their bodies thud heavily on the floor. You clutched at your side, the amount of wet blood pouring out was alarming. You pushed your own welfare aside and hurriedly undid Bucky's restraints. It was a struggle to sit up a semi-conscious super soldier and when you took his weight on your shoulders, you collapsed to the floor at the intense pain in your arm. You hadn't realized that you had multiple shots there too.

You gritted your teeth and groaned at the effort of lifting you both up, your blood soaking through your gear as well as Bucky's. You huffed painfully with each step but you just had to get him out of there. You could have kissed Natasha square in the mouth when you saw her come barreling towards you.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N!" she winced at your state before taking Bucky's other side. Apparently you looked as bad as you felt. "We gotta move fast. I hear more of them coming up this way. This path is clear."

Having Natasha's help in carrying Bucky alleviated some of the burden from you and made you all move faster, but the blood loss was already starting to make your vision blurry and the adrenaline was wearing off. Through the haze, you could also hear the rapidly approaching footsteps. Soon you would be basically useless and you knew there was no way Natasha could carry you both out while fighting off a hoard of enemies.

"Natasha," you said quietly, your steps faltering.

"No. Keep going goddamn it!" Natasha cried.

She knew what you were thinking. She had assessed the situation too and come to the same miserable conclusion. You smiled sadly at her angry eyes and shaking head as you let go of your hold on Bucky. Her eyes widened further as you limped toward the doors behind you and locked them tight before raising your guns to aim right at anyone who would come through them.

She didn't miss how your hands were shaking and your shot arm could barely hold up, the way you scowled deeper in pain with each movement, or how your uniform was soaked in your own blood and slowly forming a pool at your feet. Ghastly as you looked, you turned your head and tossed her another gentle smile. You were basically going to use yourself as a human shield for them and yet you were comforting her. You were reassuring her.

"Check on my sister for me, yeah?"

Natasha wanted to insist on another plan. Anything other than leave you behind to hold off the nearing enemy units. Shouting and gunfire from the other side of the door forced her to make a decision. She cursed sharply under her breath and dragged Bucky away with her, the regret heavy on her heart for having to leave you behind.

You stepped further back and supported your weak body against the wall after Natasha had thankfully left. The enemy was trying their hardest to barge through the door, ramming into it and shooting their guns at the locks. It wouldn't be long now before they manage to breach it.

You took a moment to spare a thought for your sister. A part of you was saddened to think of her grief after she finds out that you had done the most heroic thing anyone could ever do.

Sacrifice.

Another part of you was relieved knowing that she had Jill and she wouldn't be alone in that grief. When you decided this morning that this would be your last mission, you didn't necessarily expect it to be in this way.

"I'm sorry, Lily."

Natasha managed to get Bucky back to the jet where the rest of the team were all converging, still fighting off operatives chasing after them. There just didn't seem to be any end to them.

"I'm going back for Y/N!" she yelled to the team as she dropped Bucky on the floor of the jet. There was no time to be gentle, she had to hurry back to help you out.

"What do you mean? Where the hell is Y/N, Nat?" Steve shouted as he grabbed her arm.

"She stayed behind to hold off the ones chasing us so we could get out. I have to go back!"

"I will go. I can get her out," Pietro volunteered at once but he doubled over immediately from the extensive wounds on his torso.

Natasha was already sprinting back into the compound, not willing to waste another minute. She made it only a few feet before the entire facility exploded into a fiery inferno that quickly ravaged it and threw her farther back.

The entire team watched in horror as the explosions continued on several parts of the structure. The area was quickly getting engulfed by the flames and smoke. Steve had to force everyone onto the jet and bodily carry a shell shocked Natasha.

No one could have possibly survived that.

------------------------------

Natasha steadied her breath as she quietly landed on a perch high above in the rafters of a seedy warehouse. Wanda joined her seconds later, weaving her magic to better cloak them. The other twin was running a lap around the perimeter and would join them later.

She was assigned weird missions all the time. Missions that had very little to doubtful intel was common. This mission though was by far the strangest she's ever gotten. There was a very small list of vague things that were told to them; the time and location, not to intervene, to remain unseen until the target was ready, bring the target to the Compound.

She was slightly annoyed, but she complied anyway. She was curious too as the mission was given in secret to only the three of them. A million questions was speeding through her mind as she observed the activity below. It looked like a regular run of the mill drug den filled with busy workers and roving guards.

"How many, Wanda?" Natasha whispered.

"I sense more than 25 of them. All armed, but with much fear."

A gust of wind signaled the return of the other twin. He had a frown on his face and a concerned look in his eyes. "There is another one, but this one does not seem to be with them."

Natasha was starting to sincerely doubt this mission when a fast movement from the shadows caught her eye. By the way the twins perked up too, they surely had seen it. They followed the figure as it slipped through the darkness, almost losing track if they hadn't noticed that the guards were quickly dwindling in number. Natasha was growing worried, this was surely a highly skilled group of assassins. Pietro must have been mistaken. They were clean and efficient too.

All of a sudden a gunfight broke out below them. A figure completely clad in black, strolled casually out from the shadows with a pistol in each hand firing precisely at their targets. They confidently charged closer, unfazed as they greeted the gunfire. They continued to tear viciously through the crowd with a deadly mix of combat, bullets, and blades. 

The workers had drawn their weapons by now as well, but they were quickly killed off with barbaric aggression. It did not take long for the floor below to become a sea of blood and lifeless bodies. One person remained barely alive, hanging on to his middle to keep his internal organs from spilling out from the wide gash. The attacker came to him, nonchalantly stepping over decimated bodies. They couldn't hear what was exchanged from this distance, only the choked scream that followed as he was stabbed straight through the throat. His blood spurting out like a broken faucet.

Natasha had been in this profession for a while, but she has never seen this level of unrestrained violence.

One person.

One single person had cleared out a base of approximately 30 people. Natasha was growing more and more worried. Clearly this person was at the very least an enhanced and even with the twins with her, they were not prepared to face someone powered.

What kind of bloodthirsty lunatic does this?

"You can come down now."

All three of them froze in place. Looking down, the attacker was staring right at them with cloaked eyes. Reluctantly and very slowly, Wanda used her powers to float them down carefully keeping a good distance from this murderer.

From this close they could now see that they were in full military tactical gear in what was originally all matte black, but now had an explosion of dripping red. Combat boots, fitted cargo pants, a long sleeved shirt underneath a tight bulletproof vest, gloves, a loose hood over their head, and a cloth mask around the lower half of their face.

"Should have known something was up when my team mentioned seeing a really fast man."

The shivers that travelled through every expanse of skin on Natasha, was a reaction to that voice. It sounded strangely familiar yet unknown, but something in her mind was denying her from piecing it together. The moment the hood was dropped to reveal their eyes was when she spiraled into a complete icy shock. They were eyes that had haunted her for the past ten years. Haunted all of them. The only difference was that the eyes in her memories were smiling warmly.

The bloodied face mask was lowered to reveal a face they mourned, unmistakable and yet completely different. White raised scars branched out like weaving vines from the right side of the neck to just above the jaw and the ears. They were obviously old and healed but still raised and prominent, adding an even more dangerous edge to the menacing look on their face.

Your face.

"Hello, Natasha. Pietro. Wanda."

10 years after they had watched you tragically perish in a burning HYDRA facility, you stood before three of a group of people you had unknowingly tormented all these years.

The earpiece you wore crackled to life. "Blackbird to Hedwig. I have a visual. Should I shoot them?"

You smirked. There was no need for that. At least not right now.

"Hey, Blackbird. Tell Raven I'll be late for dinner. I have a reunion to get to."

------------------------------

A/N: Tell me which pairing or combination in this harem you’re most looking forward to. Smut or otherwise. I’m still rearranging scenes and working out smut. There is a long list of kinks. I need help.

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[seabass17]

All that’s left | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

A/n: This is my first time writing something based on a video I found on TikTok, it’s not exactly the same, but it is kinda the idea. I hope you like it and please let me know if you might want a part two. Also, I apologize if you find some errors, im doing my best since English is not my first language. Anyway, happy reading!!

All that’s left masterlist

Pt. 2

Warnings: angst, mentions of injuries (broken ribs, cuts, dislocated shoulder)

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: She still can’t get used to the feeling of being left behind by the people she once called family. After being hurt, she decides that she will give them a chance, and when they failed, she then makes the decision to disappear and start brand new. Of course, she leaves a letter that will left the team standing in the dark, and with more questions than answers about a lot of things, while discovering that she has more of one past that she let to know.

The sound of the rain hitting against the window of my living room was the only thing that could be heard in the silence of my apartment. I looked over my desk where the paper is waiting for me to pick up the pen and get this over with, but somehow, somewhere deep inside of me, a part is waiting, holding on to the smallest of hope that maybe, just maybe, he is going to come knocking to my door asking why the i haven’t showed up to the compound for the last three days, or why i didn’t text nor call the rest of the team. I wanted to see if they would notice my absence so I left the compound on Thursday. I got the answer to my question when Sunday arrived and my inbox was clear; no one noticed. Today is Tuesday, my apartment is thirteen minutes away, fifthteen if you literally fly or speed up, but still, no one came or text.

To be honest, I'm not surprised, that doesn’t mean it hurts less though. I know i should probably think this through instead of making the impulse decision of grabbing my things and get the hell out of here, going somewhere i can start fresh, somewhere i can start over and get a chance to get over all the things that happened,  find people that actually cared for me, or maybe not finding anyone at all and die alone.

I stand up from my bed and go to my desk, it’s time to get this over with. I start writing the only thing that they get to keep.

“Dear Avengers, You’re probably wondering where I am, or you just don’t care, maybe you don’t even find this. If someone from the building finds this, keep it in case they ever come looking for me; thank you. So, this is it, this is my goodbye. You should consider yourselves lucky, given the fact that none of you even deserves a goodbye because you are the ones causing it. I could tell you the reason why I'm leaving, and you know what, I will tell you. I chose to trust you. The one thing I feared the most was trusting people, but when I joined the team, I thought ‘well, maybe i can trust them, they are my team’, guess what, I was wrong. You should really look out for your teammates Stark, oh, and by the way, you might want to look deeper into why the operation that saved those 30 civilians on may 20, didn’t go south, you might even discover its the very same reason of why i didn’t showed up in the compound for a week, yeah, they were busy torturing the information out of me for a week; information that, by the way, i didn't give, hence why the operation went great. Something even more funny, is that behind every mistake, every wrong that each one of you have ever done, I’m the one that suffered the consequences. Don’t believe me? Then you might want to do your homework, because dear teammates, I’m the one you couldn’t protect. By the time you find out the things you’ve done, I will be long gone. I'm very good at disappearing, Natasha (once she figures it out) can confirm that. I wish things would be different and we could be… family, but that’s never going to happen; not anymore. As of now, there will be no record of my name ever existing, everything that once belonged to me, will be burned, and as of me, well, I am no one.”

I fold the piece of paper and put it in the envelope, once sealed, I write down the word my name in the center so they know. I take a last look at my apartment. Everything is intact, the furniture that came with it is the same as always, the only thing different is that it seems empty without all my belongings. I grabbed my luggage and exited the apartment and then went downstairs.

“Hey Richard”  I say to the man that is in the reception like I always do

“Hey miss, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I'm leaving, for good. If someone comes asking for me, my friends, you tell them that you haven’t seen me. Oh, I left a letter for them upstairs, could you please make sure that it gets to them? Only if the show up, do not sent it”

He looked at me a little sad and confused.

“Oh, well, you will me missed miss, I hope you find happiness and yes, i promised i will make sure they get your letter”

“Thank you Richard, for everything, oh, and this is for you” I handed him an envelope with some cash. He looked like he was about to say something about how he couldn’t accept it but I cut him off. “Please, just take it, please”. He sighs but takes the envelope.

“Thank you miss…”

I smiled at him and then turned around to grab a cab. I'm supposed to be in the airport in 30 minutes. Once in the airport, the only thing left is to start again, be someone brand new.

*3rd person POV*

Friday morning was a little colder than usual in the avengers compound, everyone on the team was up and in the kitchen having breakfast. Everything was normal, until someone noticed that someone was missing.

“Hey guys” Bucky said right before taking a bite of the pancakes Wanda made earlier for everyone. “Have any of you seen y/n?”

The team stayed quiet, realizing that they haven’t seen her for quite a while, not until Barnes brought it up.

“Uh… maybe she took a trip?” Steve broke the silence while the rest started thinking when was the last time they had seen her.

“No, she was here when we arrived from the Jersey mission, it must have been like what, two days, maybe three?” Tony said. Bucky could feel his insides burning and twisting.

“No… that was eight days ago” Vision intervened. The avengers felt like someone just blew up the white house. Her teammate was missing for eight days and no one even noticed. Bucky was the first one to react by getting up and running to her dorm, only to find it exactly the way it was when he last saw her. He searched her dorm looking for something out of place that could tell him that maybe you were in trouble and that he has to come save you, but he is left desperate when he doesn’t find anything.

“She’s not here, everything is intact” He informs once he is back in the kitchen.

“Everyone” Steve calls out, “get dressed, we’re going to look for her. Let’s start in her apartment”

The team leaves to change their clothes and next thing they know, they are in her building. Without saying a word to the receptionist, they all made their way up to her apartment.

“Hey! wait-” he goes unnoticed because the avengers are already on her door. Wanda knocks on the door.

“Y/n? You there?” no one responds. “Y/n come on, don’t be mad at us” Natasha says.

After a few seconds they all start to worry when the door is unlocked, and they worry even more once they see the apartment completely empty.

“What the-” Bucky says

“Where are her things?” Wanda asks to no one especifically

“Where is she?” Thor says

“What the hell is going on?” Tony says a little louder

Bucky storms out of the empty apartment and goes to the man in the reception

“What the hell happened to apartment 108, where is y/n y/l/n?” he asks with worry and anxiety in his voice.

“I’m sorry, but, who are you?” the man asks the rather intimidating group of people in front of him.

“We’re the Avengers man” Peter says and the man suddenly realizes and his face changes from a confused one, to a sad one that makes the team’s stomach drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” he sighs, “She left me indicated to give this to you” he hands them an envelope that looks like it's been sitting there for a while. Bucky stares at the envelope like it's some kind of nuclear weapon that if you touch it, it could kill you. Wanda notices, grabs the envelope and stares at the paper in her hands.

“When did she leave this?” She asked

“Three days ago”

“And why didn’t you send it to us?” Tony asked, getting angry at the poor man.

“Because she specifically said  to handed it to you, if you ever came looking for her”

Bucky could feel the tears in his eyes start to form.

“She said that? `Ever’?” Bucky asked almost to himself. The man slowly nodded. Natasha could feel how her stomach started burning from the guilt and the pain of not noticing that her friend was missing for eight days, little does she know that the entire team felt exactly the same.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y pull the records on the mission on may 20 and also show me the status of y/n on that time” Tony said to the AI and after a few seconds later, pictures of the building that that was about to be blown out by HYDRA with 30 civilians inside showed up. While the avengers were sitting in the conference room looking at the pictures, the AI started talking.

“Mission of may 20. Information was given that HYDRA kept 30 civilians inside the building with the intention of blowing it up with them inside. Source of the information unknown. The Avengers  came to the building and successfully rescued the civilians safely moments before the building was blown up. Agent y/n y/l/n was on an undercover mission on a HYDRA facility at the same time, the communication was lost three days before the civilians situation, and around the same time, the information about the building was given anonymously the very same day that communication with Agent y/l/n was lost; Agent y/l/n returned a week later. Medical record found, access denied”

“Override, Tony Stark” Tony said after a good couple of seconds, the pieces starting to fall in place.

“Access complete. Medical records of Agent y/l/n on may 27th. Access restrained: Agent y/l/n. She presented with several cuts all over her body, three broken ribs, a second grade concussion, a sprained ankle and a dislocated shoulder. Patient refused treatment and was only given medication for the pain”

The seconds were passing and no one in the room would break the silence. The pieces were starting to fall in place, Tony felt nauseous. He yelled at her for being irresponsible for staying a little longer than she should have in the undercover mission, given the fact that she checked in on june 10th, meaning that she waited two weeks for her injuries to heal enough so that he could yell at her for not being good enough. He fell down to his chair, feeling like if he stayed up, he might throw up.

“She was the one that gave us the information about the building” Sam broke the silence. “She was the one that got tortured, and still managed to pass through the data so that we, could be the heroes while she was the one that got beaten up”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, where is she?” Natasha asked the AI, and it responded after a few seconds.

“No information found”

Natasha frowned, Bucky looked up to the screen to see the red sentence. It only made him want to scream more.

“What does ‘no information found’ mean?” Bucky asked on the edge of falling apart.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y” Steve called

“No information available” it said this time.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, look for y/n y/l/n” Tony said, thinking maybe he needed to check what was wrong with the AI.

“No records found for y/n y/l/n”

“Detail,” Stark said.

The AI showed what it said before, there was no record of her name, it was like it never existed. No phone number, no mail address, no nothing, just a little picture of an abandoned building or mansion somewhere in the world.

“Wait” Natasha said, “I know that building, F.R.I.D.A.Y, do a close up on that picture”

“What is it?” Wanda asked

“It was where The Red Room used to operate” tha AI responded

“Why does it appear related to her?” Bucky asked, fearing the answer

“The picture was taken when a girl escaped The Red Room in 2002, she eliminated four people on the way, the age or who it was is still unknown” the AI responded.

“Oh god…” Natasha whispered but Bucky manage it to hear it

“Natasha, what is it?” he asked

“2002, that’s three years after i managed to escape, there was a girl, we were some sort of friends, i promised that i was going to get us out of here, but i couldn’t take her with me so i left her. Two years later I contacted someone on the inside so that I could get to her and plan her escape, but she was angry at me and said that she was fine, a year later she did escape, killing four people on her way” Natasha explained. Everything makes sense now, why she looked familiar, why she had exactly the same skills as Natasha. The team noticed it too, but they assumed it was because she had trained very hard to be an avenger.

“What was her name?” Vision asked.

“Eliza” Natasha said

“Wait a minute…” Bucky said, lifting her head looking at Natasha. “Was that her real name?”

“No, she didn’t wanted to say her real one” Natasha said

“Eliza, that’s y/n’s grandmother’s name” Bucky said and the room fell into a silence where you could hear the wind outside.

“In the letter…” Steve started, “She said that you could confirm that she was good at disappearing completely once you figured it out, so, does this mean that…”

“Y/n is Eliza” Natasha concluded

“She was in The Red Room” Bucky added.

“She said in her letter that all of us did her wrong,” Sam said, “how are we supposed to know what the hell we do to her? She’s been in the team for what, two and a half years? And just now we realized that she was the one that gave us the data that saved 30 people and got her tortured, and that she was trained in The Red Room like Black Widow here. What else are we missing?” he added.

“Guess there’s only one thing we can do” Steve said, looking at Tony.

“And what’s that?” Wanda asked

“We find her”

[ragingbookdragon]

The Daughter Of Superman, The Adopted Son Of Batman...What Could Go Wrong? PT. 2

Jason Todd x Kryptonian!Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: I should really post my other Kryptonian reader story. Enjoy the angst! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She jerked backwards, eyes widening at the sight of the thick, crimson liquid running down her arm. A shudder ran through her, throat seizing up as she tried to suck in air, her other hand coming up to rub at her arm. Suddenly it was on both hands and she stared at them in horror.

A voice called from below her, pained, but firm. “Superwoman…it’s okay. Don’t—ugh—don’t panic. It’s alright.” The voice was soothing at first, but when she looked down to find its owner, the body next to him took up all she saw, a vicious, gaping hole where his heart used to be.

She peddled backwards, stumbling to the floor, apologies falling from her lips. “I’m sor—I’m so sorry. It was just—he was hurting you and I—I didn’t mean to do this, I swear—”

The boy reached out to her but grunted in pain, hand dropping to hold his side. “(Y/N)—”

Her eyes met his once more, and he could see the tears swimming in her gaze as she whispered, “I’m sorry.” She shot from the ground, disappearing in the sky in a blur of red and blue.

He reached for her calling out, “(Y/N)!” He lost sight of her as quickly as she left, and the other two ran up to him.

“Tim!” The taller boy stopped, looking down at the corpse next to him, jaw dropping in shock. “…Oh my god. Wh—what happened?” He looked at the other. “Tim?”

He shook his head, eyes meeting the shorter one. “Bart, I need you to get to Central and find Wally and Dick and tell them to get to the cave.” Bart nodded and spun, taking off in a flash of yellow lightning.

The other boy knelt, picking him up off the ground. “Tim, what happened?”

He groaned, hand moving to hold his side once more. “(Y/N) killed him on accident.” Tim looked at him. “Conner, I can get back to the tower on my own, but I need someone to get to Jason.” He sucked in a breath, reaching up and wiping the blood from his nose though it still bled despite him. “Kori and Roy will probably be with him, but right now, we need everyone who can search.”

Conner nodded, steadying Tim on his feet before rising from the ground; he looked down at him. “Do you know where she went?”

Tim shook his head, grimace crossing his lips as he muttered, “I don’t think we’re gonna find her for a long time.” He glanced up at Conner. “Go. Now.” The boy nodded, flying off, and Tim took a few steps forward before stumbling into a wall. He heaved a sigh, picking up his transmitter from his belt.

He pushed a button, and a few seconds later, a voice came over the line. What’s going on?

Tim frowned and asked, “What’s your E.T.A. to earth?”

Eighteen hours. What happened?

Tim glanced back at the body, the puddle of blood seeming to consume it. “It was (Y/N). She… she killed someone.”

The voice on the line was silent, then it said, Superman is on his way. Call me when he gets there.

The line went dead, and Tim sighed, sliding down the wall. He lent his head back, eyes staring up at the sky, waiting for (Y/N)’s father.

***Later In The Cave***

The group stood in silence, faces molded in a mixture of shock and pain. Tim yelped as Alfred pushed on his side. “Ow shi—Alfred!”

The man hummed, wrapping the cloth around his side. “Apologies, Master Tim.” He tucked an ice-pack between the layers. “With the broken ribs you’ve got, it would be best to keep ice close. I also advise against any harsh movements.”

Tim nodded, gaze turning to the man beside his oldest brother. “Clark.”

The man looked up from the ground, voice stricken as he lamented, “I can’t hear her. She’s…completely silent…” his eyes held a deep and sorrowed pain. “I can’t hear my baby girl.”

The others listened, then Jason stepped forward, expression grim and solemn. “Tim, what exactly happened in San Francisco today?”

The boy looked over at him before dropping his gaze to the ground, sighing, “What didn’t happen out there, Jason?”

Tim shook his head, clearing his throat. “It was a routine mission, patrol the area before getting back to the tower, but Bart called and said that he saw what looked to be a meta-human going on a rampage. We all met up and started fighting, and while it took some time, we managed to get him to an abandoned warehouse complex. Turns out, he not only had super strength, but he could also make copies of himself, and when I figured out that the original was susceptible to damage while he had copies, I sent Conner, Bart, and (Y/N) to fight the copies while I found him.”

He paused, picking at his nails. “What I didn’t expect was for him to throw me into a forklift and break three of my ribs. I tried to get up, but before I could move, his hands were around my throat, and he was lifting me up off the ground.” He absentmindedly reached up, fingers brushing the purple hand-prints around his pale neck. “Everything was happening so fast, and I couldn’t get my bearings in time. My vision started to get dark, and I could hear (Y/N) shouting from behind, and the next thing I knew, I was being dropped again. When I could see and breath clearly again, I looked up, and I saw (Y/N)…I saw her…”

A hand rested on his shoulder, and he glanced up, seeing Conner nodding firmly at him. He let out a breath and said, “And I saw (Y/N) standing there, and the meta-human lying in a pool of his own blood and he had…he had a hole through his chest.”

Quiet gasps were heard around the cave, and Tim looked up at Clark. “It was just an accident Clark, she didn’t mean to do it. She was trying to save me.” The man didn’t look at him, eyes glued to the floor as he swallowed thickly, obviously thinking about what he was just told.

Jason stepped up to Tim. “Do you know where she went?”

Tim shook his head. “No, she took off before I could stop her.”

“So, you’re pretty much saying that she could be anywhere.” Everyone turned their head at the sound of Dick’s voice.

Tim nodded. “That’s why I called everyone here. We need help trying to find her.”

Dick turned to Wally. “You and Bart comb Central.” The two took off, and Dick turned to Kori. “You should take Roy and go check around hideouts the Outlaws frequent.” Kori and Roy made their way to the stairs. “Tim, you sit out and monitor everything. Conner, you can help me and Jason check Gotham. Clark…”

Dick walked over and resting a hand on his arm. “You should go home and tell Lois about what’s happened, then check Metropolis.” Clark nodded, but made no move to go, and Dick squeezed his arm gently. “Clark.” He looked at Dick. “We will find her, I promise.”

Clark nodded again, this time finding his feet; he paused as he reached them and turned to Jason. “Jason?” He turned, waiting for Clark to continue. “I don’t really have any doubt that you’ll be the one to find her tonight…” His voice soft as he asked, “But when you do, will you tell her that I’m not angry at her?” Jason nodded, and they watched Clark leave.

Dick faced them, tone quiet. “Conner, you and I can take North and East Gotham, Jason, you should take South and West.”

They nodded at his words, each moving to the exit. Tim’s voice reached them before they could leave. “Jason! Can you wait for a minute?”

Jason nodded at the others, watching them leave before moving back to Tim. “What’s up?”

Tim hung his head and whispered, “It’s my fault, Jason. I should’ve been more vigilant when I was fighting. If I had gotten up sooner, none of this would’ve happened. I’m sorry—”

A hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up; Jason stared at him seriously. “Tim, it wasn’t your fault. And it wasn’t (Y/N)’s either.” He squeezed Tim’s shoulder gently. “Okay?” Tim nodded and Jason let go, though he saw the tears in Tim’s eyes.

***

Jason crouched atop the ledge staring down at the city, a frown crossing his lips. He didn’t bother to look up at the sound of someone’s boots hitting the rooftop, or when they stopped beside him. “Have you found her?”

He snorted, eyes following a car on the busy road. “Do you honestly think I’d be up here if I had?” He glanced up, seeing Dick slightly grinning at him.

Dick lowered himself on the ledge until he sat next to Jason, legs hanging freely off the edge. The two of them simply stared out at the streets, observing the cars carrying their passengers’ home.

After a few moments, Dick asked, “Where do you think she is?”

He watched Jason shrug and murmur, “I have no idea…I’ve searched everywhere that has any kind of meaning to us and I still can’t find her.” He looked at Dick, eyes filled with trepidation. “I’m worried about her, Dick…she’s all alone out there, thinking about what’s happened, and it’s eating me up.” He shook his head, letting out a sigh. “I shouldn’t have left San Francisco earlier. I should’ve stayed.”

Dick’s eyebrows shot up at his words. “Wait, you were in San Fran earlier today?”

Jason nodded. “Spent the night with her but left in the morning.” He thumped the heel of his armored boot against the wall. “I could’ve stopped that meta and she wouldn’t have done anything.”

“You’re really torn up about her killing someone, Jason.”

Jason turned to Dick, shouting. “Of course I am!” He placed a hand against his chest. “I kill bad people because they’re evil and they deserve it. I wouldn’t want (Y/N) or any of the people I care about to follow the path that I do.” He paused, voice lowering. “(Y/N) is…a good person. She’s kind and caring and she loves everyone with everything she has. She protects those that are innocent and protects those she loves even more fiercely.”

He sighed heavily, his voice lowering to a whisper. “I’d never want her to have to think about the people she kills like I do.”

“You’re telling me you actually think about the people you kill?”

Jason let out a mirthless laugh, his gaze returning to the city. “Contrary to popular belief and what you see when you look at me, I am not a heartless killer, Dick. I know the consequences of my actions, and believe me, I think about them every moment I’m alive.” He stood and looked down at his brother. “I’m going to hit my apartment and take a nap before getting back out there.”

Dick nodded, observing him as he started climbing down the ledge; he called out to Jason. “She’s really changed you in the year you’ve been together.”

Jason snorted, “Don’t tell anyone, I’ve got a reputation to keep.” He paused, hand gripping the ledge as he replied, “ But yeah she has… and only in the best ways, Dickhead.”

“Hey!”

***

The apartment was quiet, just as he’d left it the day before, and he shucked his helmet and jacket off, placing them on the table. He bent over, undoing the laces from his boots, kicking them off before reaching up and pulling his domino mask off, raising a hand to rub the fatigue from his eyes. It was a futile attempt to delay the inevitable, and as he made his way to his room, he mentally took note of how long he needed to sleep before getting back in the field to look for her.

As he walked through the hallway, a quick intake of air sounded through the apartment, and Jason reached to his hip, pulling a pistol. He stepped carefully through the hall, checking the rooms before he came up to his bedroom. Sucking in a quiet breath, he stepped into the room, gun following his gaze as it landed on a huddled mass beside the window.

He walked silently over to it, and upon closer inspection, his eyes widened, voice laced with disbelief as he questioned, “(Y/N)?”

She raised her head, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot. “Jason?” she whispered, unsure of herself.

He lowered the gun, placing it on the nightstand before moving to her, hands grasping her upper arms. “(Y/N), we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He shook his head. “Why didn’t you call one of us and tell us where you were?” She didn’t respond to him, simply looking down. Jason let go of one of her arms, gently cupping her cheek. “Doll?”

He felt something wet drip onto his hand, and finally, she sat up straight and stared at him. The blanket she’d been covered with fell away, and his gaze dropped to her arms. His eyes widened at the sight of the faint red smeared across her arm. “(Y/N),” He breathed.

“I kept scrubbing and scrubbing, but no matter how hard or how much I did, it wouldn’t come off.” The tears were rolling down her cheeks now, and she lowered her head. “I didn’t mean to do it Jason. I just…”

Jason reached for her, pulling her into his arms and hoisting her up. He reclined against the headboard, arms wound tightly around her. “Shh…it’s alright…”

“I killed him, Jason.” (Y/N) pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. “I kept yelling for him to let Tim go, but he wouldn’t. I could hear Tim’s heartbeat fading and I just reacted.” She gazed at her arm. “I put my arm through his chest, Jason!” (Y/N) stared at her arm as if it didn’t belong to her body, an alienated limb, then she felt herself being lifted again. “Jason what—”

He said nothing, maneuvering her into the bathroom where he sat her on the sink. She watched as he pulled a rag from the cabinet and reached below the sink for a bottle. He poured the solution into the rag, then gently took her arm, wiping it. His gaze was unreadable, but it was anything but hard; in fact, it was soft, and before she knew it, the remaining blood had been wiped away.

Jason threw the towel into the hamper and turned back to her, cradling her face in his hands. “It’s all gone, (Y/N)…it’s not there anymore.” Her eyes lowered to her arm before they rose back to his, and he pressed his forehead against hers. “You don’t have to think about this anymore, doll.”

“I killed him though, Jason.”

She felt him shake his head and he asked, “What would’ve happened if you hadn’t?” She went silent, and Jason asked again, “(Y/N), what would’ve happened to Tim if you hadn’t protected him?”

Clearing her throat, she whispered, “He would’ve died.”

“No, he would’ve been murdered.” Jason looked in her eyes. “(Y/N),you saved Tim’s life.”

“At the expense of another’s.”

Jason let out a sigh and nodded. “Sometimes that’s the only way…but (Y/N)?” She looked at him and he insisted clearly, “What you did today…does not make you a killer, and it doesn’t make you a murderer…do you understand that?”

(Y/N) blinked at him before looking away and muttering, “…You should call everyone and tell them where I am.”

Jason reached down and picked her up from the sink, flicking off the light and moving to the bed. He lowered her down before crawling under the covers beside her, pulling her to him and raising the covers to their chins.

“I’ll call later.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Right now, the only thing that matters is you.” (Y/N) bit her lip to keep from crying, and a moment later, Jason quipped, “Remember that time that you threw me out of a third story window?”

(Y/N) let out a watery laugh, burying her face in his chest. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you, Jason?”

She glanced up at him, and he leaned down, pecking her nose. “If I keep getting a reaction out of it, probably not.”

(Y/N) searched his eyes for a moment then whispered, “I love you, Jason.”

He nodded, pressing his lips to hers. “I love you too, (Y/N).” He curled his arms around her, caging her to his chest. “Get some sleep…I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She did as he said, tucking her head under his chin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, doll.”

[midnightstar-90]

Live Laugh Love~ Rockets, Communists, and the Dewey Decimal System

Masterlist | Taglist | Request

Georgie Cooper x Reader

Summary: To appease his worried mother, Sheldon employs the techniques of a self-help book to try and make a friend.

Warnings: None

AN: I plan to write a new chapter once a week. It may change at the end of the school year. On the other hand, I tried to add more to the story. I hope you guys like it.

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Y/N's Pov

I am walking to lunch, and when I round the corner, I see Mary and George looking through the lunchroom window and talking to each other. I make a confused face while listening in on their conversation. "Look at him. It breaks my heart," Mary says sadly. "Poor little guy. Sitting all alone", George says sadly while responding to Mary's comment. "I don't know why his brother or even Y/N can't sit with him. Actually, Where is Y/N. I don't see her anywhere."

"I'm right here," I say, spooking Mary and George before continuing with, "Also, I tried to sit with Sheldon on his first day, and he said it would be best for me to sit with people who have the same intellect as me. I found that rude because he meant Georgie, and I am so much smarter than Georgie. Anyways, Georgie doesn't sit with him because he says In school, they don't know each other". I look between Georgie and Sheldon, then look at my godparents. "Yeah, come on Mary, when you were in high school would you have lunch with a nine-year-old," George asked Mary. "Yes, I would have," Mary responded.  "Well, there is something wrong with you." I took George's words as a sign to leave.

"Well, I'm... gonna... go," I told the married couple before heading into the lunchroom to sit with Georgie and our friends. I sat down to Georgie, trying to fit as many grapes as he can into his mouth. "Fourteen," he yelled out while all of Georgie's friends cheered him on. Georgie spits them all out before turning to me. "What did you think," Georgie asked me, trying to get my opinion on his 'cool' trick. "Georgie, if I wanted to see you stuff your mouth, I would just wait till dinner. In other words, not that interesting," I told my best friend. Georgie replied with a sad "oh" before going back to talking with his friends. I went back to finishing my newest sketch of a finch.

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Georgie and I walked into the house. "Georgie, would you do me a tiny little favor," Mary asked Georgie while he was getting a drink out of the fridge. I sat with the girl I thought of as a little sister before saying hi. Georgie responded back with a "like what" before Mary asked Georgie to sit with Sheldon. I already told Mary why I don't sit with Sheldon. Missy with her smart remarks told Georgie, "Don't do it. I ate with him in second grade, it really hurt my social life." Georgie walked off while replying to Mary with a "No thanks". I kicked Missy under the table, then gave her a 'seriously' look. I shook my head and followed Georgie to 'help' him with his homework, which was more like do his work.

I don't follow Georgie because I'm his lost puppy. I follow Georgie to help him. Without me, Georgie would grow up to be a homeless man with great hair. I am basically Georgie's Guardian angel.

"Georgie, why do I always end up doing your homework? At this point, I don't even think you know how to read. Those magazines are just for show, and you know it. You probably only look at the pictures," I said to Georgie while sitting on his bed doing our geometry homework. "Aw, come on Y/N, don't you know that you're the smartest out of both of us. Without you, I would probably still be in the 5th grade. You were right about something though, those books are for looking, but I can read you." I roll my eyes at Georgie's comment before looking down and smiling.

I admit I might have a bit of a crush on Georgie but we're best friends, and how could I ever compare those girls in his magazine. If I tell Georgie that I like him, that could ruin our friendship, and that would be weird because we live together. So, I just stick to being his best friend. That way our friendship isn't ruined and I can still be as close to him as I can.

"Well I finished your homework and it's 10 o'clock, so I guess this is it. Have a good night," I said before heading out.

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Georgie's POV

Y/N walked out of my room. I felt sad because she was gone. We talk all day, she does my homework, and we have practiced together, but I still miss her. "Maybe I like her," I mumble to myself while laying down staring at the ceiling. "Naw, that can't be," I said. I shut off my light and fell asleep.

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Y/N's POV

I was leaving my art class when I see Sheldon talking to one of the cheerleaders. It's weird to be seeing Sheldon interacting with people without them running off and crying. It interested me so much I decided to listen in.

"Go wolves," Sheldon said in a monotone voice. Jessica closed her locker confused. Sheldon responded back to Jessica with, "You're a cheerleader, and by saying "Go Wolves" I'm initiating a conversation about something that interests you." "Oh, are you one of those special ed kids," Jessica asked still trying to understand what was happening. The older sister part of me kinda felt angry that she said that, but on the other hand she was talking to Sheldon. "My mom says I'm special. Would you like to be friends" Sheldon asks. She tells him, no, but Sheldon keeps going, "Are you sure? What if I told you I admired your boldly-applied makeup?" Jessica walks off offended.

I walk up to Sheldon frantically and say, "Sheldon, you can't say mean things like that. I'm at the top of the pyramid today, and Jessica is right underneath me." "Oh, I didn't know what I said was offensive. I thought that I was complimenting her," Sheldon says. "Well, just try not to insult people. If you don't know what to say, don't say anything to them." Sheldon replies with an "alright" before walking away from me. I watch Sheldon go before heading to my next class.

I got to my next class and I sat down beside Georgie. "I just ran into Sheldon trying to make friends," I told Georgie while I get the stuff I need for class out of my backpack. "I feel bad for whoever had to put up with Sheldon. That boy is not one for making friends," Georgie responds to my comment. "Well, I think it's cute, but I feel bad because he didn't make one friend." "You sound like my mom," Georgie says. I glare at Georgie. The teacher walks in and starts the class.

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I hear Mary yelling about how Sheldon made a friend. I felt happy for him. I feel like Sheldon would really benefit from having a friend. I mean, I have Georgie, and we're inseparable.

I also heard Sheldon ask if he can start his rocketry hobby again with his new friend and I dipped. The last time he launched a rocket he killed a family of squirrels and my eyebrows. I wanted to bond with Sheldon so I helped him with his rocket.

I went downstairs to watch tv with Missy. She was watching DuckTales. "I'm surprised you're not with Georgie," Missy comments as I sit down with her. I roll my eyes and say, "Georgie isn't my whole life. I talked to Sheldon earlier, and now I just want to hang out with you. Sheldon has a new friend now, I have Georgie, but I feel like you don't have anyone to hang out with. So, what do you say tomorrow I take you to get your nails done." Missy's eyes go wide and she excitedly shouts, "Yes, I'm gonna go tell mom!"

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After school, Missy and I went to get our nails done.

(Missy's Nails)

(Y/N's Nails)

When Missy and I got home Mary told us that Sheldon's friend was coming over. Missy and I sat down to talk and watch tv. There was a knock at the door, and that set Mary off. "He's here," she yelled. "Everybody, stay calm! Just a normal day, just a normal dinner," she continued. Missy asks if she and I can eat in front of the TV, which obviously didn't end well.

We're all sitting at the dinner table, except for Mary, when George starts asking Tam, questions. George makes it weird when he asked Tam if his mom was named Kim-lee. Me and Georgie look at each other with a cringed look.

Georgie releases us from the weird vibes when he asks Tam, "So, Vietnam, like in Rambo." Tam responds with a "yes" and then Georgie continues with, "That's a cool movie." Georgie asks Tam if he's in Rambo and I look at him and elbow him in the ribs. Georgie says, "oww, what was that for" before Tam tells him "no". Sheldon brings the conversation back to George's comment, but it is cut off by Mary serving dinner.

We learned a lot about Tam's family and life. It was very interesting. Georgie said a couple more stupid things, which earned him a few more elbows to the ribs.

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I was in my room, getting ready for bed. Georgie walks in and sits on my bed.

(Y/N's Room)

(Y/N's PJ's)

"How was the day with my sister," Georgie asks me. I sign for Georgie to get off the bed and say, "We had fun. After our nails, we went to Dairy Queen and got a blizzard. I think Missy and I really needed today, you know." Georgie helps me make my bed and continues the conversation, "I missed you today." "Is Georgie Cooper jealous? Georgie Cooper didn't have someone to do his homework and now he's sad," I said mocking Georgie. Georgie grows a sad look on his face and says, "No, I missed my best friend. Not the girl that does my homework, or the girl that helps me clean my room. I miss the girl I talk to for hours. The girl that makes me feel special compared to the rest of my family. I miss that girl and that girl is you."

"Wow, that was deep for a kid that went a couple of hours without seeing me, but I know how you feel. Missy and Sheldon don't know how to do the things we do. I almost made Missy cry by insulting her earlier. I think I hang around boys too much," I say getting ready to lay down. Georgie climbs into the bed with me and we silently talk for the rest of the night.

[no-droids]

Just the Translator

Part Ten of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings:  There is rough sex in this.  THERE IS ROUGH SEX IN THIS.  Do NOT read if that offends you.  There is also more anal stuff—NO FUCKING (not yet).  Uh, canon-typical violence, grumpy Din Djarin, some fluffy moments, Baby Yoda being a little troublemaker, bit of a cliffhanger ending BUT NOT TO WORRY PALS I ALREADY GOT QUITE A BIT OF THE NEXT PART WRITTEN

A/N: ***Please take a second to visit this googledoc, in it are useful links regarding the BLM protests and what we can do to help. Here is a separate link to where I originally addressed this and shared more thoughts***

***

Whelp.  At least you’re in a good mood. 

In contrast, Din and the kid have been causing problems all morning, the both of them.  Like two… two annoying, middle-aged children competing to see which one is less mature.

The smaller of the two, and older (most likely) is bouncing with energy.  Acting a complete fool.  Ready and willing to launch out of his restricting little sphere at any second, a bright green bundle of energy that slept way too well last night and is just rubbing it in at this point.  He was fine earlier—checking out of the inn, picking up some food at a local market, riding in the Crest as it navigated towards the most isolated sector on this planet—but the hike to this field has been like pulling teeth.

In fact, Din is currently wearing a singular gauntlet on his left hand for that very reason—so this child’s hyper ass could be contained within the hovering, reflective prison.  He’s restless, though, continuing to act out.  At one point you suggest just letting him walk to let some energy out like yesterday, even if he slows the group down with his tiny little legs.  Once you let the little menace out on parole though, he just continues to veer off in his own direction and irritate his dad even further.

And, oh stars—his dad.

Din has barely said a word, only answering with short responses when directly prompted and spending most of his energy just silently stewing inside his own little grumpy teapot on his head.  The helmet is the only other piece of armor he’s donning besides the lone vambrace, and you’re surprised steam hasn’t started whistling through the top of it with how frustrated he is, how many times you’ve seen him curl his hands with impatience. At first it was amusing, though you know better than to tease him about it right now.  You keep your mouth shut and try your best to wrangle the kid, doing everything you can to be helpful while also steering clear of unintentionally exacerbating his silent irritation, knowing Din isn’t in the mood for jokes after being interrupted at a very crucial moment last night.  The sun shines directly on the front of his helmet and blinds you with every single annoyed step, so you follow just far enough behind him and try to use his enormous refrigerator of a body to shield your eyes.

At first it was amusing.  But then the baby catches sight of a gorgeously patterned butterfly floating through the field that he probably wants to snack on for breakfast, and he breaks off from your entourage once more with a quiet little coo that should strike pure terror into the hearts of small animals everywhere.

Immediately you’re turning to go get him—but then a large hand quickly snatches the front of your shirt before you can take a single step, pulling until you’re colliding with an unarmored chest with an oof.  

A bare hand catches your jaw and tightens until you’re staring deep into the thin blade of his visor, before Din whispers rough through the modulator, “As soon as he falls asleep.”

That’s all he says.  And then he’s releasing you and letting you stumble back towards his wayward son a whole lot less amused than you were before, and a whole lot more achy.  The baby shenanigans are far less amusing too.

“You’re killing me here, kiddo,” you breathe after quickly catching up with him, having to bend in half to lead him back towards his impatient dad. 

His hot, moody… incredibly well endowed dad, thick arms crossed tight over his chest as he waits for your return.

The monster’s hand lifts high above him as his three fingers cling to just one of yours, the baggy brown sack exposing his pudgy little green elbow as he follows next to you with a waddle.  It’s slow going, but at some point he decides to pull himself up onto your wrist and you catch him, cradling him in your arms before quickly hurrying back to Din.

Thankfully he begins to calm down a little after that.  As you three eventually find a spot in the endlessly breezy field to settle into, the kid clamors back into his shield while Din carelessly drops the dark bag of supplies he carried from the Crest into the tall grass.  You twist your back to let some of the stiffness out, rotating your arms to encourage more movement as he approaches.

“Same thing as yesterday,” he gruffs when he’s in reach, patting his chest again with a bare hand.  “Hard as you can.”

“My… My hands hurt,” you eventually admit, not wanting to frustrate him even more and hoping you would be able to work on blocking today instead, but Din just nods while you gently brush your thumb along your sore knuckles.

“That’ll happen until it doesn’t,” he tells you quietly, reaching out to touch your elbow in a quick, awkward gesture of comfort and then dropping his arm to his side.  Short, but not unkind.  “Push through.  You can do it.”

You nod, knowing that’s probably the very best motivation you’ll get from him.  His beliefs, condensed down to quick, stunted sentences, presented with such unwavering surety that they must be truths.  Weirdly, it works wonders for you.  Maybe it’s just the person it’s coming from.

You drop into stance and then slam your fist into his chest before he’s ready, and Din steps back on impact with a small grunt while you bite your lip to silence your own noise from the pain reverberating up your arm. 

“Good,” he huffs nonetheless, rubbing the spot on his chest he’s historically designated as target practice.  “Good.  You’re… hitting harder than yesterday.  That’s… fuck.  Good.”

“Good?”  You ask lowly, chancing a quick look over at the kid.  Who blinks directly back at you, wide-eyed and staring purposefully from his crib.  You deflate just a little bit at the sight of him still wide awake, and Din’s fists are clenched by his sides when you turn back to him.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the pent up tightness in his body as you spend the next couple hours throwing more hits at him, different types.  Left hooks, right hooks, crosses, jabs, elbow strikes, palm heels.  He was absolutely right though—the more you make contact with him, the less you begin to feel the pain, until it eventually feels like nothing at all to you.

But then, at one point, you pull your hardened fist back, aimed and focused directly on that same spot on his chest once more—when suddenly his hand flashes up and he flicks his finger against the lower part of your open ribcage. 

He barely puts any strength into it at all—it’s the pressure you’d use to tap someone on the shoulder if you were trying to get their attention, but for some reason the incredibly well-placed reminder throws you.  A little fucking touch like that shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it does, but you nearly tip sideways and have to catch your footing with how dizzy it makes you.

“That’s what’s called a liver shot,” Din tells you calmly, watching you wrap your hand around your ribcage and wince at the lingering pain through gritted teeth.  “Keep your arm down like I told you.  That’ll happen every time you wanna get lazy with me, little chicken wing.”

You hiss and shake your head a little bit, trying to clear the fog, and then purposefully tuck both arms tight to your sides.  But then—

His hand flashes up again and taps the side of your face this time—not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you flinch on instinct and take a step back.  “That arm stays up.”

Your quick huff of air is suppressed.  Somewhat censored—it doesn’t duly portray the sharp flare of annoyance you experience.  You do exactly what he says, however, and keep your arms in position in front of you.

But then you jerk back and sputter angrily when the tips of his fingers lightly connect with your cheek once more.  “Stop that!  My hands are up!”

“Then why’d you let me do it?”  He asks, stepping up as you retreat to poke you square in your chest.  “Stop letting me do it.”

He goes to tap your face again, but this time your forearm comes up to swat his away before he can make contact, and he seems pleased for the moment.  Din steps back and hits his chest again.  “Come on.”

He lets you get in just a few more blows before coming at you again.  You smack his hand away and then go to throw another punch, but he’s quick.  He cheats—goes for you twice in a row when you’re not expecting it, and taps the vulnerable spot on your side for the second time today.  It hits you like a bullet and takes you a second to snap out of the abrupt shot of pain.

“Come on,” Din taunts once more, curling his mismatched fingers at you—one hand leathered and the other tan and bare.  He sounds like he’s grinning under the helmet, starting to enjoy this way too fucking much.  It makes your blood boil, makes you just stand there like an idiot for a few seconds and fume at his audacity.

Apparently you take too long getting pissed off at him.  He comes at you first, going for your side again, but you shove his arm out of the way with a growl.  Except his other arm flashes and you react instantly, ducking under the wide, careful swipe aimed for your cheek and then zeroing in on the same exact spot below his ribs he’s been torturing you with all day, the one left wide open while his arm misses its mark.

Except—yours isn’t a tap, or a flick.  It’s a hard uppercut.

Air rushes through the modulator as he groans and stumbles sideways, gasping and trying to steady himself.  Triumph surges through your veins as you watch him, shaking your hand out at your side to quickly encourage the numbness away, your knuckles not yet used to hitting bone.  He clutches his side and shakes the helmet violently in an effort to regain himself, breathing hard through the filter and—

The visor instantly jerks to you and you’re already taking a step back on instinct, adrenaline roaring.  He snaps upright as you continue to retreat—until you trip over yourself and plunge to the grass.

A reflection catches in your peripheral, and you whip your head to the side to see the kid completely passed out in his metallic cradle, eyes closed and mouth drooping a bit.  The sight shoots pure exhilaration through you, but it’s nothing compared to the thrill of only seeing him there for a split second before chrome shields instantly slide shut over his head.

You look back to Din just in time to see him dropping his gloved hand back down to his side and taking quick steps towards you—and you react without thinking.  You scramble over on your hands and knees and then launch forwards before you’re even halfway off the ground, finding your feet as you stumble into a run and hearing footsteps pick up behind you.

Maker, it’s been ages since you’ve run like this.  You don’t even know why you’re running—you just do, it just feels like you should.  Your body barrels through tall grass and your heart thunders faster than the sound of your pumping legs, louder than the wind whipping through your ears.  You don’t know if he purposefully allows you to get this far or if you’re genuinely quick—

—nope.  Nope, you’re not quick, because he suddenly bursts into a sprint behind you and gains way too much ground way too quickly.  You try to break left as soon as you realize what’s happening, but he’s too fast and hooks an arm around your stomach just before you’re out of reach.  Din yanks you back to his chest as he twists around and takes you both to the ground, his shoulder blades slamming down first and softening your landing with his whole body and a grunt, skidding you both to a halt in the endlessly wavy field.

The wind is knocked out of you regardless.  You try and struggle off of him but the positioning makes it almost impossible—your abdominal muscles are no match for the strength of his arms wrapped around your stomach, keeping your body pinned tight to his as you wrestle to lift against him in the grass.

“Fight harder,” Din growls raggedly in your ear, and your pussy seizes with need when you feel how rock hard he is against your ass.  It encourages you—you make a rough sound towards the sky and then lift against him with all your strength, and your elbow comes down hard into his ribcage.  Air whooshes out of him and his arms loosen just slightly.  You’re able to wiggle off him and start crawling away, but then he heaves over and snatches at your pant leg—

Which means you pull them down yourself as you keep clawing yourself forward by your arms, raw excitement coursing through your veins, the fabric pulling tight over your ass and then bunching around your thighs.  You squeal and flounder and kick at him—but Din just grabs at your ankle and then pins your leg to the ground, pushing up and using your calves to clamor on top of you with brute strength, catching your underwear and ripping them down too.  Your heart pounds and your pussy just about floods itself hearing him dig in his pants to pull his cock out, his breath coming heavy through the helmet.

Maker, you’re so fucking ready for it.  You keep struggling just because your body is telling you to, but nothing close to the word ‘stop’ ever leaves your mouth, never even comes to mind.  You feel wetness slicking your inner thighs as Din grunts and plants an arm next to your head, his bare hand shooting out to hover in front of your face.  You flinch—but he keeps it there, palm open in front of your lips in silent expectation.

“Wet or dry,” he snarls when you don’t immediately react.  “I don’t give a shit.”

Still, his hand stays right in front of your face long enough to let you make up your mind.

And… not lick it.

After a moment, Din makes a sound that drops another wave of white hot arousal down through your stomach—a furious, growly noise that resembles distorted static passing through the filter.  He angles his cock against your opening and when you hear him muttering angrily, you think he’s scolding you for it.  Calling you dirty under his breath, promising you you’ll regret saying that in a second.  But no—he’s—

“Perfect.  Perfect little girl, fucking perfect,” Din hisses darkly, pushing into your soaking entrance without anything but your slick to ease his way.  “H-How are you—s-so fuck—ing—”

Oh Maker, you turn your head into the grass and cry out through the delicious, blissful intrusion, pushing your hips back against his—and Din curses as he quickly bottoms out, making sure he lurches fully into you before his hands find out exactly where they want to be.  They land on your lower back and he mounts up, pinning your body hard to the ground with almost his full weight.  It means you can rip out as much grass with your useless arms as you want—he doesn’t even give you a single moment now that he’s successfully rooted you to the crushed greenery.  You bloom for him all the same, as soon as Din pulls out with a wet sound and then starts fucking you strong and steady.

It’s sharp.  Biting.  Even the pleasure has a hard edge to it, completely paralyzing you even if you could struggle in this position.  His hands are pushing down so hard that the ground digs into your tummy and makes his cock angle and slam right into your g-spot each and every time.  You want to moan out your ecstasy but he’s wringing the air from your lungs with every shattering swing of his hips back and forth, quickly speeding up as he goes and taking out a full night’s worth of deprivation on you.

“Ngh.  Take.  Cock.  So.  Fucking.  Good—” Din grits with every mean thrust, the staccato growls of praise getting lost in the echoing, rhythmic clap of his hips.  You can’t fucking breathe—the pleasure is too overwhelming, your face is pressed into the grass, he’s got almost all his weight on you.  You’re helpless to do anything besides close your eyes, furrow your brows, drop your jaw, and just let him own your body in the middle of this beautiful oasis.  The heavy, wild thrusts steal every sense away from you, any ability to think beyond the fractured piece of heaven he’s striking inside you over and over.  You don’t even feel him grabbing your asscheeks and spreading them—

Somebody makes a pitiful, breathless whine—it’s you, you realize.  You make that sound, because worn leather lands right on the entrance he was denied last night and shamelessly breaches it before anything else can interrupt him.

“Tight,” he hisses, slowly sinking his thumb all the way down to the knuckle while you clench your eyes shut and choke out his name, “—f-fucking tight—”

His cock pulses inside you and you bear down as hard as you can on it in return, trying to get accustomed to being penetrated in two places at once.  He doesn’t move his thumb after that—he just keeps it there, deep inside you while he continues wrecking you with the brutal hammering of his hips from behind. 

Still—the impropriety of it starts to burn you up, how… dirty it is.  Getting the life fucked out of you in broad daylight, in the middle of a wide open field, the thickest finger he has buried deep in your ass, helpless to do anything else besides lay here and let him—you feel yourself start to clamp down, steadily getting tighter and tighter around the intrusions while he grits out hard curses and keeps giving it to you through the rapid build.

His name—you start repeating it into the ground like it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.  The word scrapes from your throat over and over, and you try to pull at the grass but your hands are clenched into fists and you can’t seem to remember which muscles to use to open them.

“You like this?”  You’re able to hear him grit from above you.  “Like when I—fuck—when I fuck you l-like this?  When I just.  H-Hold you down and take—” he chokes, “—take what I w-want—”

You can’t respond, but fuck yes, you do.  The kindling spark inside you suddenly flares up and starts to spread through your body like wildfire, tightening, tightening, tightening, but then—

He’s so pent up—Din cums.

Devastatingly early.

The savage thrusts suddenly stutter to a halt and the gasp he takes in sounds like it physically hurts him.  Like the orgasm is just ripped out of him.  His hold turns to steel on you, as if he thinks you can somehow get away right now, and Din cums deep inside your spasming cunt with a shuddering, desperate groan of your name. 

It’s like it drains everything from him—he slumps, just conscious enough to slowly ease his thumb out of your tight asshole, and then he collapses in the grass next to you.  You stay there for just a second and shake next to him, muscles feeling like they’re creaking even while just laying on the ground like this, completely motionless.

“Shit—was that—”  Din pants, turning and scooting over to you to brush your hair out of your face with his bare hand, “was that… okay?  Do you… do you need…?”

You’re still so submissive, still so high on the overwhelming rush of pleasure, your mouth opens and croaks out a response without your permission.  “It was good.”

“Yeah?”  He huffs, dropping back on the grass and trying to catch his breath.  “Good.”

And… it’s true.  It was good, it was absolutely fucking amazing.  So overpowering, such a hard fuck that you almost don’t think about the fact that you didn’t actually cum from it.  The thought doesn’t really even register with you fully, not yet.

Eventually you both push yourselves up, each of you equally lacking in energy, just in different ways.  Din looks like he’s drunk—unbalanced and dizzy while he removes his glove and stuffs it into one of his pockets, before carefully tucking his spent cock back in his trousers.  In contrast, you’re nothing more than another trembling blade of grass in an enormous landscape of them, flimsy and yielding to the powerful, rippling wind as you attempt to adjust your clothing.

It’s fine, you tell yourself on the slow, quiet walk back.  Sex doesn’t always need to end in a fiery orgasm.  Sometimes a rough pounding hits the spot, scratches that itch.  You feel like you’re a newborn blurg trying to balance your oddly proportioned weight on two noodle legs as Din’s hand patiently guides you from your lower back, and a bright flare of arousal arcs through you feeling how gentle his hold is compared to the way his cum is steadily leaking from your throbbing, aching cunt.

You don’t need to cum every single time he fucks you.  It’s fine.

***

Upon returning to the sight of the unbothered, napping kid, you both decide to walk a bit more, and you learn your lesson this time.  The sun glints bright against Din’s left side while traveling in this direction, so you stick purposefully to his right the entire time.

In the meantime, you share easy conversation and attempt to regain some semblance of control over your still slightly… restless body.  Slowly but surely, your feverish arousal for him dims and fades to the backburner, replaced instead by… softer, quieter feelings.  There’s not a solid word for it, not really.  If you were mixing on a palette, you’d start out with a base of gentle contentment and then add a big dollop of affection, diluted with silence until it’s a swirling, pastel… color you don’t have a name for, but cherish all the same.

The baby wakes up about halfway through the afternoon hike, and he’s better now too.  Eventually your ragtag party finds a place to settle for the night—a small clearing in the field at the edge of a thick forest.  There’s a sizable log and boulder situated relatively close together, with a wide open space to make a fire in the center.

Din disappears for a bit to go get some firewood from the looming forest while you entertain the kid; the log is tilted perfectly to allow you both to watch the sunset, and you easily converse with the riveting baby talk as if he’s an absolute genius.

“I’m not so sure about that, honestly,” you tell him diplomatically, receiving nothing but unintelligible babbles in response as he climbs all over you.  “Well, no actually, because there’s two major schools of thought concerning that, the first being—”

He pops up in front of your face to interrupt you heatedly and you scoff, rolling your eyes over the loud gibberish.  “Look, I’d appreciate it if we could tone down the passive-aggressiveness, okay?  If we can’t have a respectful discussi—”

Three green fingers settle over your lips and you gasp at the nerve of him, forced to let him continue to ramble on your lap about absolutely nothing at all, the size of his ego soon growing to match the size of his ears.

“Hear that, shiny?”  You turn your head and ask his father upon his eventual return, and Din grunts distractedly as he dumps the firewood down and rummages around in the bag for a lighter.  Tilting your head back towards the kid, you prompt him with a raised brow.  “Tell him what you just told me.”

The baby bursts into more nonsense, encouraged by your attention, and Din crouches down to set the wood into position in the dusky twilight glow while saying nothing at all, and it somehow manages to pass as listening intently.

It continues to go on like that far longer than you expected it would, the baby apparently having quite the bone to pick about something that’s been on his mind, and one point you have to rest your hand over his mouth so he finally stops babbling.  “Hey, that’s not very nice,” you scold him quietly.  “I’m sure his face is perfectly normal under there.”

The helmet turns just slightly towards you, unamused while you snort at your own joke for a little bit. 

“I didn’t say it,” you remind him after far too long of just celebrating your own hilarity, clearing your throat through the stifled chuckles.  “I’m just translating.”

“Oh yeah?”  He eventually murmurs, beginning to ignite some of the crumpled twigs at the center of the pile, and if you worked at it, you could probably convince yourself he’s sharing your gentle smile.  More muted than yours perhaps, but beautiful and easy on his face, fitting him simply and perfectly.  “What did… What did he say I look like?”

You would’ve shot something ridiculous back at him, something snarky and facetious, but you stop short.  You catch it—underneath his voice, it sounds… timid, almost.  Uncertain.  It makes you take just a second in responding.

“Brown eyes,” you tell him after a moment, and Din doesn’t visibly react, just continues to slowly add small branches to kindle the flame.  It’s so quiet out here, but it’s different from hyperspace quiet.  This quiet is… natural.  Warm, and.  Free.  Fleeting, allowed to roam.  In a way that hyperspace just feels compact, stifling.  “He said you have… brown eyes.  And a… a strong bone structure, striking features.  A sharp, chiseled jaw, dark facial hair.  And, uh.  He also said…”

Din keeps silently feeding the fire until it’s crackling and bright, and then he settles back on his butt next to it, both elbows resting on his knees, not moving the visor towards you but waiting for you to finish regardless. 

The stunning backdrop gives way to a stunning surge of bravery.

“He said you make a bunch of faces under there that nobody ever sees,” you say softly, blinking at Din in the fading twilight while the kid sits silently in your lap.  “That you’re an open book.  Behind a metal wall.  And you have a really nice smile, I bet—he bets… he bets you probably do it more often than anyone realizes.  And your… your hair starts to curl when you let it grow long, and.  And you’re almost guaranteed to be drop dead gorgeous under there, and it’s a real fucking shame that you’ve probably never had anyone tell you it.”

Din tilts his helmet at you, looks at you for a long time—long enough for blood to rush to your cheeks and for you to get fidgety.  But when he finally does respond, his voice is gentle through the modulator.  “He said that.”

You mhm at him quickly, nodding your head and turning away as casually as you can, heart beating incredibly fast for some reason.  “Just the translator.”

A lovely silence soon blankets the both of you, a warmth permeating through to your bones that has nothing to do with the steadily growing fire.

***

A little while later, the kid has retired to his reflective cradle and the dancing flames are the only source of light besides the bright moon hanging directly overhead.  Din sits with his back to the large boulder and digs through the bag, pulling out all sorts of food you picked up before leaving the village this morning and handing them to you.  Something red and unfocused flashes oddly against the curve of his helmet when he reaches his hand back in, but it’s only for a second—he’s already pushing more food at you and filling your arms with bags of dried meats, fresh fruit, and loaves of bread.

“Stars,” you whisper under your breath, examining the feast in the flickering firelight.  “Here, take—take some of this, it’s too much.”

“There’s more in here,” he counters lowly, zipping the bag and dropping it somewhere on the other side of his body.  “The kid hasn’t eaten all day.  Might crawl away and catch himself a Gungan later if you don’t feed him soon.”

“No, I mean—” you let all the food drop into your lap and start sorting the items, “—you need to eat.  What do you want?  There’s plenty.”

“I’m not hungry,” he answers, far too quickly to have actually taken a moment to check.  “Just give me whatever you two don’t eat when you’re finished, I’ll put it back in the bag.”

Okay, if he’s gonna play it like this, you’ll just have to choose for him.  You’ve already dedicated at least two bags of dried meat to the kid, which takes care of him.  So, you take an extended moment to methodically find the ripest fruit in the bunch, the one with the most squish to it, and then search for the softest loaf of bread, not caring that Din is silently watching you.  You gather both of them in your arms and then pluck three bags of meat from the pile, before depositing all of them back into his lap.

“Eat,” you urge quietly, grabbing another portion of food for yourself, heavy on the fruit.  “Don’t inhale it.  Please.”

With that, you grab the kid’s food and then scoop the little guy up from his shield with your free arm, standing and walking to the other side of the fire.  You carefully plop yourself down with your back purposefully to Din, the kid happily finding a place on your lap with his back to you and reaching six little fingers out for the food.

You start eating, and after a moment, you smile around the large bites of fruit at the sound of metal clinking against stone.  The baby, of course, refuses to even open the bag of dried meat you set in front of him, so you roll your eyes and do it yourself, hoping he’ll at least eat like an adult and give you some time to feed yourself.  But no—the fifty year old creep demands to be hand fed, and any other day, you wouldn’t have let him get away with it.

Today, you’re just really fucking.  Happy.

You’re unbelievably happy.  Having spent a few days on this gorgeous planet, your two favorite people in the galaxy with you.  It fills your heart with air.

You start out quiet, praying you aren’t bothering Din as he (hopefully) continues to relax and enjoy his food behind you.  You begin humming your favorite melody under the sound of the crackling flames, the source of heat burning pleasantly against the curve of your lower back, setting another piece of dried meat into the kid’s cute little mouth and only just slightly annoyed that he refuses to do this himself.  Admittedly though, you do love babying him, especially when he shows you his adorable little chompers.

One bite for him, two bites for you.  That’s the deal, even though you’re hungry and you deserve way more than double his food intake rate.  You try to be quiet enough that your gentle humming will get lost with the fire between you and Din, and he never says anything or tells you to cut it out, so you just continue to let your cheerful mood provide a quiet soundtrack to the moonlit evening.

Even better, you and the kid actually finish snacking before he does, and you’re more than willing to wait for him, thrilled that this is actually happening.  It’s so simple, such a throwaway thing, but.  Knowing he used to eat his meals as quick as he can and now he’s comfortable enough to just take a second and enjoy it… you don’t know, there’s something inherently meaningful about it, something that you specifically notice.  Something about this, about sitting around a fire and sharing a meal together for the first time—even with your back turned to him, it just feels… familial.  In a way.  More than it’s ever felt before.

You have a little moment.  It’s nice.  You drop your head back and gaze up at the night sky, in awe of how different the stars look from this side of the galaxy and remembering how far you’ve come.  The kid follows suit, leaning back against your tummy and blinking silently at the universe, the star-speckled sky reflecting in his gigantic dark eyes.

He starts to doze after awhile, listening to you hum softly to yourself, but the noise of a helmet finally lifting from the boulder and most likely fitting itself back in its rightful place snaps him awake just enough.  The kid pushes off you and waddles over to his dad, and you scoot yourself back over to your little log while he unceremoniously clamors up onto Din’s thighs.

Admittedly, it’s really fucking cute.  The visor moves just enough to watch him plop his little green butt down and find a comfy position on his lap, not helping but not preventing the movement either.  A heartwarming, silent kind of tolerance hardened men have for innocent little creatures that makes you bite your lip to hide your smile.  What a softie.

You sit there in companionable quiet, staring deep into the dancing firelight and losing track of time just a bit.  They’re hypnotic, the flames.  Crackling and popping, warming just the forward-facing parts of you and nearly burning your cheeks, but you love it.  Breathing in the woodsy campfire air, hearing the gentle breeze float through the field surrounding you, the quiet forest waving dark and deep in the distance.  The midnight sky stretches long above you and the stars seem… brighter than they were on Arvala-7.  They probably aren’t—that planet is practically abandoned and has almost no light pollution whatsoever compared to Naboo, but… maybe it’s because now they feel… in reach.  Something you can touch.  Interact with.  Something you can cover your eyes, blindly point at, and then say—that one.  That’s where we should go next.

After awhile—you have no idea how long—you blink your gaze over to Din and startle to find the helmet facing you directly, shamelessly, the kid completely passed out on his lap as the flames reflect in the visor.

Without intending to, you’re already thinking back to earlier today.  How quickly he bolted after you, how strong he was bringing you to the ground, pinning you under him and taking what was so rudely denied to him last night.

You didn’t actually finish, and you can still feel it simmering down low.  Din’s cum has been steadily leaking from you all day, and while you eventually became successful at blocking out the sensation, it suddenly slams to the forefront of your mind again.  The visor pierces deep into you while you start to squirm just a bit against the rough log pressed into your back.  You can still feel him when you flex your lower muscles, and you bite your lip and do it repeatedly while blinking at him, waiting, squeezing your thighs together and loving the reminder.

He still hasn’t said anything to you, and you start to get antsy under his stare.  Your body works itself up even more, fueled by the flames reflecting in his helmet.  After a few more moments of silent tension, you’ve finally had enough.

“Din,” you whisper, trying not to make it sound like a whine and his head quickly lifts when you didn’t even realize it was slightly tipped forward.  The helmet rolls back in a drowsy little circle, as if his neck is suddenly remembering the weight burdening it.  Embarrassment instantly floods you.  “Oh.  Shit.  I’m so stupid.  I’m sor—”

Only he’s already pushing himself up with his free arm, lethargic and drunk with exhaustion, not saying a single word as he sets the conked out kid in the cradle and closes the shield over his sleepy little head with the push of a button.

You bite your lip as he drags himself over to you, swinging a leg behind you and then dropping down without any ceremony, firmly inserting himself between the uncomfortable log and your back.  Your butt is shoved forward from the sudden displacement but he’s not done.  Din wraps both his arms around you and pulls, dragging you up onto his long torso while his legs close under you and you’re off the ground completely.

Oh Maker, he’s already thousands of times more comfortable than sleeping up against the log would be.  He makes the best bed in the galaxy, big and warm and firm under you, letting you stretch out long on him.  You lounge on his lap and drop your head to his shoulder, resting your arms on top of his as they drape heavy across your belly.

“Sorry,” he gruffs, voice low and rough through the modulator.  The filter rings sharp through your ear when it’s pressed up against his helmet like this.  “Just need a few hours.  Didn’t… didn't sleep great last night.”

You close your eyes and internally scold yourself, now taking responsibility for his lack of rest for the past two days.  Shit.  You don’t actively respond, feeling slightly put out, but your body is of another mind altogether.  It still continues trundling down the steep slope you shoved it towards earlier, when you stupidly thought he was giving you eyes under the helmet instead of him being passed out cold.  You wiggle against him just slightly under the guise of finding a comfortable position, but it has unintentional consequences.

You breathe out a soft sigh when your hips move over his cock, biting your lip at the sensation but trying so hard to stop it in its tracks.  He’s exhausted, and he already fucked the life out of you today, there’s no way he’ll want to go again this soon.  Except—then he shifts and mmms low in his throat.

“And you,” Din murmurs quietly, reaching a hand down to slowly push under your pants, “need to start being more honest with me.”

“What are you t—oh, stars,” you whisper, your body shuddering as one of his thick fingers slowly dips into your slit.

“Shit, you’re wet,” he groans, sinking his hand down lower to feel remnants of himself still easing its way out of you.  Your lashes flutter as your jaw drops, and his cock gets hard against your spine almost immediately.  “You’re fucking… soaked.  I—I asked if you came and you said yeah,” he whispers low to you, but you shake your head.  “Why’d you lie to me abo—”

“No, no—” you protest breathlessly, “—you asked if it was okay, and then I said—”

“You said it was good.  It’s not good if you didn’t cum,” he grunts quietly, and the tip of his finger now drawing tight circles over your clit makes it damn near impossible to argue.  “I didn’t fuck you right if you didn’t cum.  You should be fucked right.”

“Maker, you fuck me exactly how I need to be fucked,” you whimper, tilting your head until your lips are pressed against the curve of his helmet while his hand steadily works under your pants.  “And—oh, fuck, that’s… h-however you need to fuck me.”

“Fuck—obedient little thing…” he huffs, starting to rub harder over your clit.  “What I need is for you to cum.  From now on, you’ll tell me.  Say yes.”

“Yes,” you moan into the beskar, your eyes fluttering back at the slowly building pressure.

“Say, ‘yes, Din,’” he breathes.

“Yes, Din,” you dutifully repeat, lifting your hips up against his hand, and he groans softly through the modulator.

“Say, ‘Din, I need something to cum on’,” he whispers.

You’re delirious, you don’t even catch it before most of it is already out of your mouth.  “Din, I need something to c—” you cut off but he’s already reaching down between your bodies to ease his cock out, before yanking your pants down your ass just enough to position himself up against your entrance.

He rocks his hips up and he slides in easier than ever before, and you… don’t know what you’re expecting, but he surprises you nonetheless.  He doesn’t start thrusting into you at all.  Even though he’s rock hard inside you, thick and pulsing and breaking you open, he doesn’t move a single inch.  He just keeps himself there, continuing to rub circles around your clit and giving you exactly what he prompted you to ask for.

Something to cum on.

Your body tenses and squeezes him, and Din shushes you before you realize you were making noise.  His free hand comes up to settle tight over your mouth and guide you turn your head away from his helmet.  At first you think it’s because your heavy breathing was probably fogging the visor up, but no—his fingers leave your pussy for a split second and you hear him maneuver himself out of it.  The hollow noise it makes thunking to the ground is beginning to become your favorite sound in this universe.

But then of course, Din buries his face into your neck and starts talking again, whispering low praises behind your ear with that bassy, dark chocolate rasp, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing.  His fingers return to your cunt to slowly rub your clit and his cock throbs hotter than sin inside you, building your pleasure into a strong, slow crescendo.

You start to whimper unintentionally, but his hand is wrapped tight around your mouth, muting and confining the desperate sounds to your throat.  His finger presses down harder on your clit and his cock flexes inside you.

“That’s it, sw—sweet girl,” Din mutters, his voice interrupted by his own staccato breaths and tight gasps the longer he talks you through it, the longer he keeps himself perfectly still while engulfed in your drenched, fluttering cunt.  “That’s—that’s it, I can feel it c-coming.  Fuck—make it good for me, give me a good one—”

His words shove you right over a cliff you didn’t even realize was there until you were dangling over the steep drop for an extended moment like a cartoon.  Everything squeezes around him unbearably tight—your hands dig into his forearms, your back arches up against him, your pussy constricts his thick cock until you feel like you’re hurting the both of you with it, and Din’s breath catches next to your ear while you’re both suspended in thin air for a split second—

—before you’re convulsing in pure bliss, flooding his cock with cum while he rasps out, “good girl,” into the crook of your neck and rocks his hips up into yours.  The few heavenly inches of movement hits something jaw-dropping inside you and nearly makes you scream against his palm, launching your body even higher into mind-bending rapture.  Fucking Maker, you cum hard for him, on him, around him.  You downright drown his cock in your pleasure, suffocate it and work out the aching tightness in your pussy all over him until you feel like you can’t breathe anymore.

“Mmm…” Din murmurs quietly, continuing to circle your swollen clit hard through the shattering aftershocks.  His voice is deep and sinful and vibrates your whole back with its frequency, but something underneath it also sounds as if he’s considering, before he seems to land on an answer to a wordless question he just asked himself.  “…One more.”

And, like the fucking Maker himself commanded it, another blazing hot wave of fire suddenly rips you apart and sends you spasming rhythmically around the throbbing cock buried inside you once again.  This one wrings you completely dry, robbing you of every sense.  The ragged whine you make behind his hand must be too loud—his fingers quickly tighten around your jaw and lock down, keeping you as still as possible while you give him everything you have to give.

Eventually the sparks die out and you’re left a shell of what you once were, clamping down hard on him and shuddering your bliss at the night sky.  He lays there silently under you, holding you as you fall back down to reality.  Your breathing is a mess and so is everything below your waist, and your whole body jerks when Din carefully slides his hand from your pussy and rubs gently over your thighs, your tummy, your chest.

“That was…” you croak out, trying to remember how to speak, “ … g-good.”

“Go to sleep,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of your neck.  You can hear the gentle grin he’s hiding from you, knowing he completely incapacitated you.

“But what about—” you start to protest, when Din’s teeth sink into your flesh and your pussy seizes up tight around him, making him choke a hoarse little groan into your skin.

After a moment, he eases his throbbing cock out of you, and he resets your clothing while you whimper in distress.  “Go to sleep,” Din murmurs, before softly kissing your neck once more, and your eyes slowly droop against your will.  Fuck, his body beats a king size mattress any day of the week.  “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

***

He…

He isn’t.

[honeypiehotchner]

Looking Too Closely (Bucky x Stark!Fem!Reader) — part two

I’m backkk so sorry this took forever, my idiot/goblin brain wanted to hold onto this part for longer?? Anywho

Summary: The one in which you meet Bucky Barnes for the first time. Also the one in which you want to ram Tony Stark’s skull into the wall.

Warnings: angst, mentions of past violence, mentions of death, Tony is still pretty douchey (I know y’all don’t wanna hear this but he is a giant asshole 99% of the time)

Series Masterlist

You can’t sleep.

It doesn’t help that you haven’t had a real bed to sleep in — let alone one that has memory foam or whatever the hell that is on this mattress — for some time now. But the Tower is too quiet.

You can’t open your window and Tony must have the place basically sound-proofed because you can’t hear any of the city sounds that you’re used to. The late night traffic, the sirens, the footsteps, the voices, the fights, the snoring. You’re alone in here and it’s eating you alive.

You’re still wearing Wanda’s clothes. Pepper said she’d let you pick out some clothes today and they could be delivered. She offered to go shopping somewhere with you, but you don’t want anything fancy. You’ve never even been to a mall, not to shop, so that idea alone felt too much.

Grabbing a pillow from the bed, you move to the floor in front of the window. Laying on your stomach, you rest your elbows on the pillow, staring out at the city lights.

After some time, you give in and lay your head down, hoping it’ll bring sleep around. Luckily for you, it does.

Unluckily for you, sleeping on your stomach on the hard floor has your ribs feeling properly bruised by the time the sun rises. You roll over onto your back, letting your shoulder blades take the weight for the next couple hours.

By the time late morning rolls around, you open your eyes, feeling exhausted. Restless sleep is the only kind of sleep you know.

Dragging yourself off the floor, you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You’re not used to having one, but you’ll gladly use the toothbrush here. That’s one thing you missed more than the others while you were homeless.

You exit the bathroom and head out into the hall, down to the living area and kitchen. It’s quiet, so you figure everyone is gone or out.

You’re busy climbing on the counter to look in the top cabinet when you hear footsteps on the hall, but they’re sort of far away, or they sound muffled like they’re a distance away. You halt your movements for good measure of listening, and you definitely feel like someone is down the hall.

But, your stomach growls, so you go back to rummaging through the cabinet.

The person you sensed steps around the corner into the kitchen and freezes. He has no idea who you are, but you’re standing on top of the counter, and that’s when he realizes you’re standing on top of the counter.

This is around the same moment that you vaguely sense the same presence from the hall behind you, and you jump when you see someone is actually standing there.

He is next to the counter in a split second, holding his Vibranium arm out in case you fall. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Trying to get cereal, what the fuck does it look like?”

“It looked like you were about to fall on your ass.”

“Lucky me, I didn’t,” you snort, resisting the urge to kick his face. He’s at the perfect height for you to do it, too. “Who the hell are you?”

“Bucky,” he answers. “Who the hell are you?” He fires back.

“Y/N,” you reply, turning to go back to looking in the cabinet. It’s mostly random things, nothing you particularly care to eat. “Do you know where everyone is?”

Bucky leans back against the opposite counter, arms crossed over his chest. “Probably asleep. We just got back an hour ago.”

You hum. Right, Tony said a few of them were out. “Then why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Don’t want to mess up my schedule.”

“Hm.” You smell bullshit.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you huff, closing the cabinet and hopping down. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

As you’re making your way toward the hall, you’re stopped by Tony’s voice.

“Munchkin. Get back here. You and I have some things to discuss.”

You spin around. “What now?”

“What now is right,” Tony deadpans. “Come on. My office. And Barnes, go the fuck to sleep for once.”

Bucky snorts, flipping Tony off, but only you saw it. You grinned, mouthing thank you.

Bucky smiled boyishly in return.

+++

Tony conveniently waits until his office door has shut before he starts in on the questions.

“When did your mother pass away?”

“A month ago,” you reply slowly, really too exhausted to deal with this or Tony right now. “Why are you asking that?”

“Because I wanted to see if you’d continue to lie to me, and you have.”

“What are you talking about?” You gathered that he was a pain in the ass, but delusional, too? Jesus.

“She didn’t pass away a month ago. Her funeral was a month ago.”

“Okay? And? What the hell does it matter?”

“The funeral was delayed because the police think you killed her.”

Fuck. He found out. “Well I didn’t.”

Tony looks ready to scream at you. “So you knew there was a warrant out for your arrest?”

“Well, yes, but—” This time Tony does cut you off by a million cuss words, but you continue over top of him. “I thought they gave up!”

“You knew they were looking for you and you walked in here instead. I should turn you in right now. In fact, I don’t know why I haven’t called the police yet.” He’s waving his arms wildly, no doubt trying to control his anger at the absurdity of this situation.

You cross your arms over your chest. “They have no proof.”

“Clearly they have something or there wouldn’t be a warrant.”

“They don’t have shit, Tony. I wasn’t even near my house when it went up in flames, alright? I was a mile away.”

“Where? Where were you?”

“At a gas station.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Are you interrogating me?” Is he recording this? Your eyes search briefly for cameras before you remember he’s a tech genius, so his cameras are probably hidden.

“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of why you have a warrant and why you decided to waltz in here. Do you know how much trouble this could get me in?”

“I’m sure you could pay your way out of it.”

“Hey,” he snaps his fingers at you, “I’m being serious.”

“Me too,” you snap your fingers back at him, too fed up with him to care, “Mr. Billionaire.”

The two of you stare at one another, unblinking, unflinching, anger seeping through your skin. Tony has realized quickly that no matter how hard he pushes your buttons, you’ll push his right back, just as much if not more.

Maybe you are his.

“I’ll ask one more time,” Tony starts. “Did you start that fire?”

“I was too busy getting stabbed to start a fucking fire, okay?”

This has Tony reeling in shock instead of anger. “Stabbed? Are you fucking nuts? What do you mean you were getting stabbed?”

“I mean I was getting stabbed. What else do you think that means?”

Tony sighs tiredly, frustration making him clench his jaw. “Where?”

You gesture to your abdomen. “Just in a couple places.”

Tony’s eyes widen. “A couple— Alright, you know what, we can finish this later, because right now,” he points his index finger at you, “you need to get to MedBay.”

“What?”

“Yeah, that’s the thing about getting stabbed, munchkin. It can cause internal damage. And if you never went to the hospital—”

“I stitched myself up, it was fine—”

“Uh-uh, shut it,” he snaps. “Come on. Come with me.”

+++

You run into Bucky once again when you get off the elevator at MedBay. He’s talking with Steve who is checking on Natasha who is a little bruised, and all three of their heads turn when they see you dragging your feet behind Tony.

Bucky gives you a questioning look while Steve and Natasha look plain confused, both having not met you until now.

“FRIDAY,” Tony calls out. “I need a full body scan on Y/N.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

You roll your eyes as Tony gestures you into a room. You can still see everyone through the glass walls as you step on a small circle in the floor, presuming it’s where you need to stand for the scan.

Steve asks the million dollar question. “What’s going on?”

“Got stabbed,” you reply with a shrug, making Tony’s blood boil even faster.

Natasha snorts at your nonchalance, Steve gives Tony a baffled look, but Bucky seems weirdly concerned. “You what?”

“It was a long time ago,” you tell Bucky.

“No, it was a few months ago. And she never went to a hospital,” Tony adds, right as FRIDAY finishes the scan. “What have we got FRIDAY?”

“Evidence of internal bleeding that has since stopped, but nothing else. Everything has healed properly.”

“Well thank god for that,” Tony deadpans.

You nearly flip him off right there, but you settle on a glare. “Are you done?”

“Yes,” Tony says. “But we’re not done.”

“For fuck’s sake, I did not start the fire!”

“Oh no, I believe you there,” Tony says. “I wanna know who stabbed you.”

“Some random idiots,” you shrug, walking out of the room and past Tony, back toward Steve, Natasha, and Bucky. “Leave me the hell alone about it. Goddamn.”

Tony lets you walk this time, watching you storm off toward the elevator. Meanwhile, he has two super soldiers and a spy staring at him like they just found out his darkest secret.

“So...that’s Y/N,” Natasha comments. “She’s got fire.”

“She’s also got an attitude,” Tony retorts.

“It’s just like yours,” Steve fires back, raising an eyebrow.

Tony ignores him.

“Here’s my question,” Natasha says. “If she was stabbed that many times in that many places— How did it heal? That’s not normal.” And when Tony gives her a confused look, she adds, “You know what I mean.”

“Wait,” Steve catches on. “You don’t think she’s…” He looks over at Bucky.

“She knew I was standing behind the wall earlier,” Bucky says, a realization crossing his face. “She could sense me. I heard her, but I was too far away for any normal person to hear me.”

“Okay, let’s not jump to these conclusions right now,” Tony interjects. “It’s bad enough she has an arrest warrant and a habit of getting stabbed. I don’t need to worry about her being like you two knuckleheads.”

“It’s still worth looking into,” Natasha comments.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “We need to know if she is, Tony.”

“Well right now, she’s being a hormonal teenager, so I don’t think I’ll be able to ask her about it,” Tony deadpans.

“She just lost her mom,” Bucky says, remembering when Steve told him, and his heart broke for you. “Give her a break.”

“If you want to talk to her Barnes, go right ahead.”

“I might,” Bucky retorts, already heading toward the exit so he can find where you went. “Just to apologize for your attitude.”

+++

It takes Bucky a full ten minutes of searching for you before he remembers he can just ask FRIDAY.

“She’s currently in her room, James, but it is on Do Not Disturb.”

“Can you override that for me?” Bucky asks the AI.

“One moment.”

Bucky has no idea why FRIDAY needs a moment, but he waits. He’s in the living area so your room is just down the hall, but knocking does no good when Do Not Disturb is live. He knows because he uses it every night. No sound gets in or out.

“Do Not Disturb overridden by Tony Stark.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. Of course.

He heads down the hall to knock on your door, but you don’t respond. Because of the circumstances, Bucky goes against his better judgement and opens your door.

He’s met with a pillow hitting his chest.

“Oh,” you say immediately after. Bucky is surprised to find you sitting on the floor in front of the window, facing the city skies with a blanket over your shoulders. “Sorry. FRIDAY said Tony overrode it so I thought it was him.”

“Nope, just me,” Bucky replies, holding out his hands. He reaches down and grabs the pillow, tossing it back on your bed. “What are you doing down there?”

“Looking,” you shrug, turning back around to face the city.

“Can I join you?”

“Sure.”

Bucky shuts the door. “FRIDAY, put Do Not Disturb back up please.”

“Of course, James. Do Not Disturb is now active.”

“It’s really weird,” you say. “Having an AI in this place. Doesn’t it creep you out?”

Bucky lets out a laugh when he kneels to the floor to sit a little distance away from you, putting his back to the window. “There’s a lot of tech I don’t understand. I kinda had to get used to it quick when I was in Wakanda, though, so nothing phases me anymore.”

“Right, you were...gone for a while,” you pause, not knowing how to approach the subject. “You and Steve both were, right?”

He nods. “Steve was frozen, I was brainwashed.”

He says it so bluntly that you don’t know how to respond at all.

“I’m not anymore,” Bucky continues. “But I did a lot that I’m not proud of. And I was framed for something I didn’t do.”

You half-hum, half-scoff at that. “So you know what it’s like.”

Bucky nods, leaning his head back against the window. “I do.”

“Who were you brainwashed by again?”

“HYDRA,” Bucky replies, tensing a little. “Why?”

“Just curious,” you shrug. “The name sounds familiar, though.”

Bucky lifts his head from the window. “How familiar?”

You shake your head, unsure. “I dunno. It was all over the news, though, right? That’s probably why.”

“Yeah, probably,” Bucky replies slowly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them.

“Do you know why you were stabbed?”

You don’t move a single muscle. You don’t even blink.

“Tony was an asshole,” Bucky says. “He shouldn’t force you to talk about something that recent.”

“Yeah.”

“But if you do ever wanna talk about it,” Bucky pauses, “I’m here. No pressure, though. I get it.”

You nod slowly, watching him from your peripheral vision. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Just not right now,” you continue, surprising yourself and Bucky. “Maybe later.”

“Whenever you want,” he shrugs. “I’ll give you some space, though. Do you uh...want your pillow back?”

You perk up a little. “Yeah, thanks. If you don’t mind.”

Bucky pushes himself to his feet, walking over to the bed to grab your pillow. He tosses it back to you gently.

You smile softly and hug it to your chest, but Bucky knows that once he leaves, you’ll lay down and sleep, right there in front of the window. Because your bed must be too soft.

He gets it. His is, too.

[crackedoutwalnut]

Training Room Tension (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Summary: Reader is a cocky new recruit. Black Widow decides to put her in her place.

Warning: the briefest mention of suggestive content near the end.

It was a well known fact amongst your fellow SHIELD recruits that you were undefeated. You bested all of your fellow trainees in everything from combat to reconnaissance practice. Not only did you spend several hours in the training room after everyone had left for the day, you woke up earlier than everyone else as well. Determination and passion filled your every uppercut and kick as you dreamed of the day you would become a SHIELD agent.

Currently, you were in the middle of sparring with Adam Wesley, a sweet young man with a killer punch. Sweat beaded on your forehead as you twisted the mans arm behind his back and kicked him to the mat with your knee. He grunted and rolled onto his bare back, a grin painted on his clean shaven face. You straddled his stomach and pinned his hands to his sides with your feet. Your black sports bra was damp with sweat and locks of hair were sticking to your forehead.

Adam wheezed, "Okay okay I give. Get up please you're going to crush me."

You rolled your eyes with a smug grin, "You're a big guy Adam, crush is a bit much."

The man stood and wiped his face with a sweat towel. He plopped back down on the mat, "It still hurt. I thought you were going to break my wrist," he complained, chucking the towel into the hamper nearby.

"You're such a drama queen," you replied in between gulps of water.

"Says the one who has never been on the receiving end of one of your punches," he replied, sticking out his tongue mockingly.

You returned the gesture and laughed, "And I'm glad for it, I bet I could take out everyone in this gym with a single punch." You tossed your empty water bottle aside and flopped down next to him.

Adam huffed, "Y/N one day that attitude is going to get you killed."

You wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders and kissed his cheek playfully, "One day maybe, but not today." He made a disgusted face and pushed you away before scrubbing at his cheek.

You opened your mouth to tease the man further when a new voice cut you off, "You could beat anyone in this gym, huh?" You looked up to find the Black Widow herself standing before you, arms crossed. "I wouldn't count on that, princess"

Leaning back on your hands you gave her a lopsided grin, "Oh really? Why shouldn't I count on the truth?" You struggled to maintain your confident façade as you stared up at the older woman. You had been infatuated with Natasha ever since you first saw her at SHIELD headquarters. The skilled assassin was nothing short of gorgeous and you often found yourself staring at her when the two of you were in the same room. However, careful training kept your face from blushing as she crouched so that the two of your were face to face.

"You should the audience for your boasting more carefully. It might get you in trouble one of these days," Natasha purred, her shoulder length hair brushing your cheek.

"Is today one of those days?" You shot back, leaning in closer so that your nose was practically touching hers. Despite all your previously mentioned careful training, your eyes found themselves trailing down to her lips. Your heart missed a few dozen beats as the woman let out a raspy chuckle, clearly aware of just how much of your confidence was faked.

"That all depends on whether you want to make good on your claims, princess," Natasha stood to her full height, her gaze never leaving yours.

Adam cleared his throat nervously and looked between the women before him, "Should I go?" he asked, moving to stand to his feet.

"I think that would best," you replied, hopping up from your own lounging position. The man glanced back at you and mouthed a quick 'good luck' before scampering off to the treadmills.

"So, is that a yes?" Natasha questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Absolutely."

--

The two of you circled one another, fists raised defensively. The excited tension in the air crackled between the two of you like Tesla coils as you took in the woman before you. Your heart was about ready to crack from its place in your rib cage. Why had you agreed to do this? Natasha Romanoff was literally nicknamed the Black Widow because of her notoriously lethal fighting style. Still, it was too late to back out now. If you did neither Adam nor the rest of the recruits would let you live it down. You had a reputation to uphold, after all.

Gritting your teeth, you lunged forward with a low aimed punch. Natasha jumped aside faster than you thought humanly possible and kicked your still outstretched arm away. You grunted and stumbled back as your arm flailed awkwardly back to your side. The two of you erupted in a flurry of kicks and jabs and punches. You did your best to stumble out of the way of her efficient blows, suddenly feeling like a defenseless rabbit stuck in a cage with a wolf. Natasha was making quick work of your attacks, deflecting and dodging as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

The assassin aimed a punch for your stomach, however, you leaped back and managed to land a sweeping kick under her feet. Natasha grunted and fell backwards onto the mat. You let your chest fill with pride for a millisecond before lunging on top of the older woman. Your hands gripped her wrists as your knee pressed against her toned stomach.

You grinned and leaned down until your could feel her breath on your face, "See, what did I tell you? The best," you muttered, your eyes locked onto your own piercing gaze.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her body remaining completely lax under your own. "Princess, a word of advice," the assassin hooked one of her legs into the crook of the knee that was pressed against her abdomen. She when kicked out, yanking your leg loose. You stumbled, your grip on her wrists loosening. She surged upward and flipped the two of you so that you were now pinned under her. "never declare a fight is over until it is actually over," she finished.

You stared up at her, your eyes wide and your chest heaving. Her thighs were now straddling your bare stomach and her hair was falling against your flushed face. "Bu-but..." you trailed off, face now beet red.

Natasha poked her lower lip out in fake sympathy, "Awww poor baby. Not used to losing, are you?" she murmured, tracing a light finger down your cheek and along your jawline. "If it's any consolation, you were better than I thought you would be. In a few years you might even be worth my time."

You struggled to reply as her finger trailed from your jaw down to your neck and onto your chest. She traced patterns along your sports bra as she gazed down at you. Your mouth continued to gape open like a suffocating fish. She smiled and kissed your cheek. "If you're always this cute when you lose I might have to kick your ass more often."

You frowned, "Who said I was done fighting?"

Natasha raised a brow and sat up. "Okay then, throw a punch," she replied mockingly.

You narrowed your eyes and glared up at her for a moment before letting out a huff, "Fine, I give up. You win," you grit out.

Her eyes widened in fake surprise as she cupped her ear and leaned in closer, "Oh, I'm sorry, can you speak up? I didn't quite get that."

You grumbled, "You win, okay? I'm sorry."

She grinned and stood from her place on your stomach. Part of you mourned the loss of the intimate contact. She reached out a hand to help you up, which you gratefully accepted.

Natasha leaned closer so that her lips were practically touching the shell of your ear, "You know if you weren't so adorable I might just leave you here to sulk. But, I quite like you and I would really enjoy it if you went with me to the locker room," Natasha muttered, her breath hot against your cheek. You shuddered and leaped forward to get to the locker room. The assassin let out an amused snort before following closer behind.

The moment the two of you entered the empty locker room, you turned to face the redhead. But, before you could even get a word out she was already shoving you up against a locker. You gasped as her lips collided with your own. The kiss was violent and desperate as you quickly leaned in to reciprocate. Natasha smiled and nipped at your lower lip, her hands gripping your wrists above your head. You gasped and allowed her tongue to slip into your mouth. Sometimes losing was worth it.