#sometimes an idea comes out of nowhere and slams you into the ground | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

siriusleee · 1 year

Text

shot through with gold

“I smashed the whole house to bits,” Johnny keeps going, turning to put the milk in the refrigerator. “Had to get Simon over here to help me put it back together. It was his idea by the way. To get the mug fixed. He said you’d be mad if it was gone when you came home.”

tags: coming back home, implied torture, capture, smut, riding, reader is afab, mentions of medical procedures, mentions of blood word count: 7.7k author's note: This was a commission by the best and brightest @gazs-blue-hat. If you'd like to commission a fic, visit my ko-fi for more information. Also, I refuse to disgrace the good country of Scotland by attempting to do the full Scottish accent. Readers call sign is Sparrow, but it's only used once.

The room is heavy with dust; small puffs cloud around Johnny’s boots as he pads across the plush carpet. The summer’s oppressive heat makes the walls sweat - you’d be worrying about the mold forming in the drywall if you could see it. But Johnny doesn’t think of the way his handprints smudge on the paint you spent weeks agonizing over or the way your perfume lingers in the still air even after all this time.

His singular mission - to grab a few shirts he needs and leave - is the only thought he allows himself to think about, hands combing through the dressers and eyes trained downward, away from all the pictures hanging on the wall. He avoids your side of the dresser, avoids the lace that still peaks out from your top drawer.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, Johnny ignores it as he pulls the shirts he came to look for out of the dresser drawer, tucking them beneath his arm. He follows his tracks in the dust back out, eyes cast down at the carpet. The whole trip takes less than 10 minutes; he doesn’t let himself look up until he’s slamming the passenger door of Simon’s truck shut behind him.

“Got everything?” Simon asks, shifting the truck into drive.

Johnny sits ramrod straight in the seat, eyes avoiding Simon’s as he buckles in.

“Yeah, got everything.”

Your fingers trace over the marks you’d carved into the soft stone wall. You’d tried to keep a tally mark of days, but time slipped by in odd increments within your cell. Some days you’d watch the sunrise from the cracks in the ceiling and after just a blink, the inky blackness of night would be seeping in. Sometimes the sun hung in the sky for months before finally falling to the full moon. No matter how hard you tried to decode the pattern, the moment you had it everything would reset.

The guards were in on it; they had to be. They’d bring your meals at odd times - sometimes you’d still be full from the moldy slop they shoved in between the cell bars, spilling it out onto the floor like you’re an animal in a cage, and sometimes you’d be so hungry that you could barely crawl to eat.

It was supposed to be someone else - you were pulled for guard duty after another soldier slogged off and broke his foot doing something stupid while training. You’d finally been pulled to work with Johnny, three days away from being a full transfer to the 141 when your C.O. had appeared at the door of your bunk, new orders in hand.

A simple guard duty: get the guy to where he was supposed to be going, hand him off, and fly home. Your transfer could wait an extra forty-eight hours. But your plane was shot down somewhere over the middle of nowhere - you had told your C.O. that flying that low was a risk, but the desert was empty and the plane was old. They’d been making the flight for weeks, ferrying men back and forth with no hiccups. Your flight should have been no different.

It should have been someone else.

You couldn’t remember what had hit your small passenger plane: but the ground was David, and you were Goliath. You’d hit the ground beside the pilot’s head, his mouth formed in a soundless scream, and after a quick flash of black, had woken up to a bucket of water being poured across your face.

Whatever language your captives screamed at you, you didn’t know it. And if they knew any of the ones you screamed back at them: Spanish, Arabic, German, they didn’t let you in on it. You couldn’t figure out what they wanted until they’d ripped the Union Flag from the breast of your vest, a quick picture on a Polaroid camera snapped above you before you realized what they wanted.

Blood dribbled down your chin when you laughed at them: the government didn’t even pay for soldiers who got captured at war. What would they pay for your half-broken body to get shipped back in a wooden box? A simple mistake that could be written off as a plane malfunction.

The anger had come first, feet and fists slamming into the men when they appeared at the cell doors. Nails ripped from their beds when you tried to claw at the seams in the walls. It had cost you a few teeth and a pound of flesh. And then, when you were tired of the endless beatings and anger that went nowhere, you begged them to kill you, to do something to end the torment. By the marks on the wall, it took months before you first asked to be killed, and only weeks later for that to end, each request met with silence and a sneer. Now you lay in the corner, waiting for the few moments when they’d let you out to see the sun glinting off of the mountain ranges, the clouds threatening to storm in the distance.

Those quick trips seemed to come with less frequency as time slipped by.

You trace the tattoo on your thigh; they’d cut through it once after you kicked one of them in the chest, his ribs caving beneath your feet, but even beneath the dried viscera and matted dirt that covered your skin, you could still see Johnny’s name there.

You wonder if he’s picked a gravestone for you yet.

The two of you had talked about it, once. It was the nature of your jobs - to be prepared for everything that could come your way. Your wills were done: 75% to Johnny, 15% to your sister’s kids, and the rest to a local charity. Johnny wrote in that you were to get 100% of everything he owned, and you had chided him about it.

“What about your mom? Your sisters?” You had asked across the steam from your cup of coffee. Johnny had shrugged, dropping the black pen onto the table with finality.

“Already taken care of, birdie.”

After that had come the talk of headstones and burial plots. Of missing bodies and cremation. You had told Johnny that whatever he thought you’d like, to pick out. You weren’t picky about it.

You wonder if the military let him put his last name on the stone.

A decidedly male voice shouts from around the corner, and you pull back into the stone wall. Seconds later, fetid food falls through the bars. The man shouts at you, pointing at the food on the ground. Lazily, you turn your head towards him, watching the way he sneers at you through the bars.

They must be getting angry then. No ransom came through after all these months.

You bare your teeth at him.

You’d rip his throat out if you had the strength to do so anymore.

Johnny’s fingers don’t shake like they used to when he buckles the strap of his helmet, the night vision goggles weighing him down. He’s tired - exhausted. The entire convey smells of cigarettes and sweat. Heavy men in heavy gear press around him; across from him Gaz’s eyes shine terribly bright in the darkness. They press in on Johnny, forcing him back into his seat heavily.

Price’s voice is loud in his comms, intermingling with the sounds of the Marines and the whir of the mechanics beneath his feet. Johnny can’t make out the details over the sound of the truck rumbling beneath him.

“Steady Soap?”

Gaz knows - Johnny doesn’t know how Gaz can do this kind of job with the way he fucking oozes empathy. Or sympathy. Johnny could never remember which one was which, he always had to ask you which one to use. Gaz had been the only one who’d asked him if he was alright; Simon had lingered at the edges of rooms Johnny was in to keep an eye on him, and Price tried to give him an extended leave. Johnny had refused.

But Gaz had been waiting until Johnny was sitting outside of some bar a group of Seals had taken them to - a celebration for a job well done months after you were gone, after Johnny's failed attempt to find you.

“You good?” Gaz had asked, fingers twirling a cigarette he would never light.

“O’course.”

It had made Johnny feel like shit to lie to Gaz, and the same feeling washes over him as Gaz’s eyes linger on Johnny.

The warm summer air washes over them; sweat is starting to coat his lower back, his fatigues keeping him too warm. The smell of the desert, of warmed sand keeps him grounded, reminds him of where he is - what he’s doing here.

In the glint of the moonlight, the mountaintops shine at him.

The first few missions had been difficult: he’d fought like hell to try to search for you, fuck the regulations. He’d resign if it meant finding you. The rest of the fucking government didn’t care: no one on the plane was as important as anyone else, not to the officials anyway. Johnny had done just that, his resignation had landed heavily on Price’s desk, only to land in the trashcan a moment later.

Gaz volunteered to follow Johnny, but Price had cut that off quickly. It was to be Johnny and Simon only. They had five days, a week at most before they had to be back home.

The farthest they got was the plane wreckage, a little burnt-out village miles away, and sheep that stared at them from the sides of the mountains. But he couldn’t find a trace of you or a singular person who even recognized the photo of you he kept tucked inside his gear. Even after Simon had disobeyed Price’s orders to return home now after weeks had passed. They didn’t find anything.

Johnny knew that’s why Price had volunteered the 141 for this mission - a small-time terrorist cell hiding out in a country they didn’t belong to, a small promise of the bodies of missing soldiers hidden somewhere.

It was something.

The guards are panicking; the dirt walls shake around you. You can’t guess what it could be: American pilots doing a blind bombing, Russians pretending to send help only to rain down hell on the perceived innocent. Maybe God’s here to level the land and flood it. Try again. Do something different this time.

He could start with your cell, you think, scraping at the dirt on your leg. Underneath the sun-starved skin is paler than it should be. If you ever leave, you think, the first thing you’re going to do is eat a fucking steak in the sunshine. The bones that refused to set correctly ache beneath your bruised flesh.

The sound of gunfire pierces the inescapable silence. Your captors yell, screams punctuating between the bursts of firepower. Good, maybe they’ll tear each other apart and leave you here to die in peace.

Maybe it was a poker game gone extremely wrong. Someone asked to strip when they should have been ponying up the cash.

Smoke pops in the hallway outside, you don’t run from the white creeping in on you, just pull the rags that were your shirt over your mouth to try and keep breathing. It overtakes your cell; you watch as the smoke creeps through the cracks in the ceiling.

The sounds of war flood the small cell - the taste of blood and gunpowder in the air around you. You can taste the iron when you breathe in. It coats your tongue. You run your teeth across the chipped and broken enamel, mixing the taste of other’s blood with your own.

Someone shouts so close this time you can almost make out the words - American accent thick and heavy in your ears - and it stirs something inside of you. You try to navigate the cell through the smoke, rolling painfully off of the pallets your captors had so kindly turned into a bed for you. Crawling across the excreta and mud you try to make a sound, but you haven’t spoken in months.

Your throat is raw, and the sounds that come from you are barely human. You’ll be surprised the men even hear you, let alone notice you there on the ground. You try to pull yourself up at the bars, but the fracture in your ankle that healed up wrong weeks ago keeps you on your knees.

“Hey-” you finally croak out loud enough for one of the men to cast his eyes down at you. “Please.”

He’s so familiar, the softness in his eyes tugging at something familiar inside of you, the sharpness of his shoulders calling to you. You pull yourself up, leaning heavily on the bars and the one ankle that doesn’t scream at you, hands slipping through the bars to try to reach towards him.

His gun drops, swinging loosely on its strap as he steps towards you. His fatigues are filthy, and his nose wrinkles beneath the cloth mask covering his face. You know you smell terrible, and you want to apologize for it, but you can’t make the words come. He looks so tired as he steps towards you, hands reaching out to grip the bars between the two of you.

“Sparrow?”

“Johnny?”

It takes days for you to make it home: IVs from field medics who barely know what they’re doing, anti-viral meds, shots, stitches. They don’t even let you take a real shower until you’ve landed at a base you barely recognize. It’s a painful process, a female nurse wiping at you gently, but still peeling away layers of skin with each pass of the washcloth, your sobs muffled by the shower.

Johnny waits for you on the fringes of all the people that press around you, poking you, prodding you painfully until finally, you find yourself slammed into a British hospital bed.

Johnny comes in the moment they let him, hands held behind his back in a mock parade rest. You barely recognize him, his mohawk almost completely grown out and bags under his eyes. You know you don’t look much better; you’d caught sight of yourself in a mirror before they’d forced you into bed. Ruined was the only word to describe what you saw. Too thin, too broken. Too torn apart to be stitched back together. At least not without all the types of therapy a military doctor listed out to you: hydro, occupational, physical, mental.

Neither of you know what to say, so you start with the last thing the doctor told you.

“They’re going to rebreak my ankle tomorrow,” your voice is still thin, full of isolation. You’d tested it out on everyone who’d been in to work on you, but it didn’t sound right at all. Johnny shuffles nervously where he stands, and then rushes forward to sit in the chair beside your bed. He’s moving wrong, you think, like a wind-up doll. Too slow and then all at once, too fast.

“Why?”

“I healed up wrong.”

Johnny’s hands play with the edge of the blanket that dangles off of the bed, eyes trained on the fabric. He’s not going to look at you. At the ruin you’ve become. You press yourself down harder into the thin mattress, hands tucked beneath your thighs to keep them still.

“Is it going to hurt?”

You can’t help but smile at his question, your toes twitching beneath the blanket that feels so out of place across you. How many months had they had you? A year? No one had told you yet.

“They said I’d be fucked up on medicine. But probably, yeah."

Johnny’s hands aren’t still against the blanket, instead reaching out towards you. The movement startles you, and you jerk to the opposite side, nearly pulling your IVs out. Johnny pulls his hands back, crossing them across his chest.

“When you -” his voice breaks, just a moment before he put it back together, eyes finally meeting yours, “when you come home I’ll bring the bedroom downstairs so that you don’t have to walk far.”

You have the nagging suspicion that he changed what he was going to say at the last moment.

"Are you going to sleep on the couch with me?" You try to tease, but your voice falls flat, unpracticed. But it still makes Johnny smile, sharp incisors digging into his chapped lips.

"I'll sleep wherever you tell me."

The two of you are surrounded by the sounds of the hospital: the beeps of the heart rate monitors, the sounds of the nurses' quiet conversation outside of your room. You trace your hands across the blanket, grasping Johnny’s whenever your fingers collide with each other.

For a moment, neither of you move, just languish in the feeling of each other’s skin; you’re too busy tracing Johnny’s palm to notice him pushing himself closer to you until he kisses you, softly but with a tight undercurrent of desperation, his hand tightening almost painfully on yours.

The feeling of someone touching you so gently after weeks of rage and anger nearly stops your heart. The monitor goes crazy; Johnny pulls back, just the hint of a smile on his lips.

It takes four weeks for Johnny to get the go ahead to bring you home. Each day you were in the hospital he would come for a quick chat before work, bringing you breakfast he picked up. Every day after, he would collapse in the chair beside your bed, smelling of sweat and gunpowder.

The smell made you recoil when he tried to kiss you, and he didn't try again after that, even after you tried to stutter out a why. But the day the doctor tells Johnny that you can go home, you awaken to Johnny outside of the hospital room, arms crossed as he speaks to the head doctor - Johnny looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him off the battlefield.

Everyone rotates around you as if you’re not there, packing the room up, pulling your IVs out, fingers prodding and poking you until a nurse aide wheels a wheelchair into the room for you.

”Ready?” She asks, locking the brakes. She looks at you from across the room, and you know what she wants. Starting the day after they rebroke your bones, they made you get up and start walking, and you push yourself off of the bed, walkable cast heavy against the tile floor.

Johnny’s in the room in a second, catching sight of you whenever he sees you stumbling over your cast across the room. The aide lets him push her out of the way, his hands gripping the wheelchair as you lower yourself down.

“I can walk out, you know.” You grumble at Johnny as he tosses a heavy folder into your lap.

“Hospital procedure, birdie.”

Simon’s truck is waiting for the two of you in the parking lot, Simon in the driver's seat. He throws a glance at you as Johnny helps you clamber into the backseat, crowded around by grocery bags.

“Hello, Luv.”

“Hello, Simon. Thank you for the ride.”

Simon opens his mouth to speak, black hospital mask sliding up, but he’s cut off by Johnny clambering into the passenger seat.

You watch Johnny from the backseat, foot propped up beside you. His hair has grown out too long, the Mohawk nearly disappeared and his beard has started to grow in. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him anything other than clean-shaven; even in the field, he'll butcher himself with a knife before he lets it grow in.

He’s thinner than he should be, too. You wonder if he’d been eating like he was supposed to.

The drive home is disorientating, Simon taking turns too sharply, too quick for your still queasy stomach. By the time Johnny helps you climb down from the truck, dropping your hands quickly when both of your feet are on the ground.

The house is clean, too clean for Johnny to have been here alone. Like he can sense you'd skepticism, Johnny speaks from ahead of you.

“I’ve hired a cleaner,” Johnny says, holding the door open for you. “So don’t worry about anything.”

It’s odd to be back home; you trace your fingers across the knick-knacks you’d collected throughout the years, the furniture you’ve spent years picking out. You have memories of sitting here with Johnny, memories of Simon and Gaz laughing from the kitchen. But now all you feel is lost, a bottle floating in a foreign ocean.

You wander into the kitchen, fingers trailing against the wall - there are no dirty dishes in the sink, no food in the cabinets; Johnny wasn’t living here.

The only dish you recognize is sitting on the counter, you pick it up, feeling the unfamiliar weight in your hand.

“It’s called Kintsugi.”

The Japanese word rolls heavily off of Johnny’s tongue, your fingers pause tracing the golden lines that cut through the mug. It was your favorite, a gift from when you and Johnny had first met. The two of you met at a diner, out with mutual friends. You’d thought it was cute, the name of the diner printed across the front in vintage lettering. Johnny had swiped it for you, hiding it beneath his jacket until the two of you parted ways at your doorstep.

“What happened to it?”

“I broke it,” he admits, dropping the grocery bags onto the counter. Your fingernail can’t find any snag in the glaze, any sign that the mug has never had the golden lines cutting through it.

Johnny busies himself with unloading the bag, speaking without looking at you as he confesses.

“After you were taken, I spent weeks searching for you until Price forced me to come home. I was angry, and I smashed it.”

You can feel the frown sketched onto your face; you don’t look at Johnny as you set the mug down on the counter.

You lean against the counter and watch Johnny busy himself with the groceries.

“He was right,” you admit, feeling silly over the sadness that fills you over the broken cup, “but maybe that’s something Simon has a lot of experience with broken things ya’know.”

You and Johnny orbit each other for weeks: he’s there every day until you begin to question if he’s gotten himself fired to stay home with you. He drives you everywhere, and if he can’t, Simon waits for you just out past the front gate, no doubt on Johnny’s orders.

“I had a lot of time off,” he says one day, elbow-deep in the laundry that he dumped between the two of you, eyes cast on the television. “Never had a reason to take it before.”

Your hands smooth the wrinkles out of one of Johnny’s shirts, fingers picking at the loose string. Today had been talk therapy, recommended by the SAS doctors. They were strict about all the requirements you had to meet if you ever wanted to go back, and laying on a shrink’s couch for two hours a week was one of them.

The graying doctor had asked you if you had spoken to Johnny about the anger that still wells up in you, the dreams you have of tearing your captives to pieces with your hands, the internal self-flagellation you went through every night when you thought about the career you’d worked so hard for, and have now lost.

You had spent the rest of the day thinking about what he said, even when it meant not paying attention to the medical doctor’s order when they were cutting your cast off, but Johnny took in every word.

You almost say something then, tossing Johnny’s shirt onto his pile, but the wrong words come out.

“You need a haircut.”

“Yeah?” Johnny’s hands still around a pair of your shorts, you feel him watching you in his peripheral vision. “You want to cut it?”

Of course, you did; you spend more moments than not thinking about how his hair must feel like long if it’s still soft. But every time the two of you tried to touch each other, the other pulled away.

So when Johnny takes your hand, and pulls you up the stairs, you let him - hand heavy and warm in your own.

Johnny lowers himself onto the closed toilet seat; you feel unsteady as you approach him, clippers in hand, and you’re not sure if it’s from the closeness or the weight of your cast being removed.

“Are you sure you trust me to do this?” You ask again; since you’d come home your fingers had been a kind of clumsy they’d never been before.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Johnny keeps his eyes trained on you, fingers tapping against the tight denim stretched across his jeans.

“I can scalp you bald,” you admit, switching the clippers on, “and then you’d look like a Q-Ball for eight weeks.”

“I’ll be the best damn Q-Ball anyone’s ever seen,” Johnny says, beard twitching as he smirks at you. If he notices the way your fingers tremble when you take his jaw in your hand, he doesn’t say anything.

His eyes close at the feeling of the clippers cutting through his hair, no doubt the feeling of the weight being removed was comfortable for him.

“You didn’t do this while I was - while I was gone?”

Your therapist says you shouldn’t shy away from calling your kidnapping what it was, but you still can’t form the words in front of Johnny.

He hums at your words, never opening his eyes as he speaks.

“I don’t let anyone else touch my hair, birdie.”

“What about your beard?”

Johnny snorts, eyes meeting yours as you maneuver his head to the side.

“You don’t like it?”

You like the way he feels against your skin, you want to tell him. But you can’t make the words form, can’t spit them out. Johnny watches you chew on them for a moment before he lets out a sigh. His hair is scattered on the floor around the two of you, more than you’d thought he’d had.

You swap the guards to shorten his mohawk, pressing yourself in between Johnny’s knees so that you can reach the nape of his neck.

His hands wrap around your thighs, light and warm against the skin that peeks out beneath the shorts you hadn’t taken off since you’d left your cast removal this morning.

Your skin is on fire at his touch, you try to ignore it as you clean up his neck; Johnny buries his face in your shirt, breath warm against your stomach. His fingers trace light patterns on your thigh and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep the clippers from straying.

His fingers trace the scar that covers his name, and you jump back like you’ve been shocked. Your back hits the wall, knocking the decorative towels you’d spent days choosing to the floor. Johnny’s hands linger in the air between the two of you as you try to catch your breath.

“Sorry,” you pant out with a heavy swallow.

Johnny pushes himself up, eyes watching you like you’re a wild animal ready to run.

He reaches out and brushes some of his fallen hair from your shoulders, electrifying your skin again. His touch is hesitant as he traces up your shoulder, fingers cupping the back of your neck.

He’s fire as he presses himself against you, lips brushing over yours just quick enough to light something up inside of you before pulling away with an apology. He loosens the clippers from your hands and shoos you out with a promise he’ll clean the hair up himself.

A storm rages outside, threatening to cut the power at any moment. You watch it throw around tree limbs and leaves through the front window. Behind you, the television casts soft shadows on the walls.

“Still pouring out there?” Johnny asks from his spot on the couch. Your answer is the curtain falling back into place. You pad back to your spot beside Johnny; he holds the blanket up for you to slip underneath.

His bare leg rubs against yours, but his hands stay firmly in his lap. He hadn’t tried to touch you since that day in the bathroom - even when he dropped you off at therapy, you’d wait for him to stretch across and kiss you, but he’d just send you off with a wave.

You knew it was partially your fault: you couldn’t get the words out to explain how much you wanted him to touch you, how sorry you were for every jerk away. Every time you tried to tell him how much you wanted him, the words curled into your throat and refused to budge. You had even asked earlier for him to take a shower with you, to no avail.

The movie - some family flick Johnny picked because it didn’t have any violence, you know - cast shadows across Johnny’s face. His stubble is starting to come in again; you reach out and trace your finger across the five o’clock shadow creeping onto his jawline.

Johnny doesn’t take his eyes away from the television screen, but he leans his face into your touch. Your fingers trace upwards, lacing through the Mohawk you’d trimmed just two weeks ago. Johnny nearly purrs when you tug on his hair, pulling him down so that he’s lying across your lap.

You have to take it slow, you know or you and Johnny both might break apart. So you just settle beneath him, fingers tracing patterns onto his scalp, eyes trained on the television, but not really watching.

“I don’t think I’m going to go back,” you whisper, voice nearly drowned out by the storm outside. Johnny rolls, doing his best not to dig painfully into your thigh to look up at you.

“To work?”

You nod, still refusing to look at him.

“I talked about it with the therapist today; I just - I think it would be best if I just cashed in my retirement. I’ve got a lot saved up: hazard pay and all that. The corporal offered me a job as a trainer. So I could still be around."

Johnny’s hand reaches up to grab your wrist, forcing you to look at him. You can’t read the expression on his face, and you don’t like that. He’s always your open book. You try to keep your heart rate steady at the feeling of him tracing patterns on your wrist.

“I’m sorry, birdie.”

And you know he’s not just apologizing for your ruined career, for the nearly year you’d spent locked away in some disgusting cell, for the still broken teeth in your mouth, or the screws that hold most of you together now. He’s still apologizing for not being able to find you earlier, to be there months earlier.

“It’s not your fault Johnny - I should have told them no. I should have been smart enough to just tell my commanding that I couldn’t do it. I should have-“

Hot tears start to fall; Johnny pushes himself up, fingers brushing them away gently. When you don’t shy away from his touch, he pulls you into his lap, tucking your head beneath his chin, and pulling you so tight you think you might break beneath his touch. And you would let yourself shatter beneath him, if it meant he could put you back together, shot through with gold.

Johnny lets you cry on his shoulder until the fabric of his shirt is soaking wet; after a while, the smell of him, the softness of the way he caresses your back,and the feeling of his jean-clad thigh between your own stirs something else inside of you. You need something else, something more desperate, something to push away the feelings of failure. Of the fear that still lingers in you of heights, and darkness, and men who smell of sweat and gunpowder.

So when you kiss him, softly, Johnny doesn’t push you away like he can feel how much you need him to touch you. Even as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, you don’t break the kiss. It stays superficial, and soft, neither of you breaking apart or deepening it. You expect him to carry you to the spare bed he brought downstairs for you, but instead, he cradles you up the stairs, hands gripping your thighs so tight you know there will be a thumb-shaped bruise there tomorrow.

Johnny doesn’t stumble as he carries you.

In the bedroom the two of you shared before you were lost, Johnny collapses on the bed, his smell enveloping you, hands never leaving you. He buries his nose in the soft skin of your neck, breathing in the smell of you.

“Are you here with me birdie?”

Johnny’s voice is muffled on your skin, his hands pausing at the hem of your shirt.

“I’m here Johnny.”

You rest your hands on his biceps and feel the way his heart is in your own chest. His weight presses down around you, the mattress sinking down beneath the two of you. The wind rolls in through the window, gooseflesh erupting on your skin where Johnny isn’t touching.

Johnny’s hands don’t move from the hem of your shirt until you slide your own down to his wrists, a bravery you hadn’t felt in weeks taking over you.

“Please, Johnny.”

Johnny shifts, knees spreading your own apart, but he still doesn’t touch your bare skin until you tug on his wrists, trying to slide them underneath your shirt, instead, he traces your arms - the area you know he thinks is safe.

The feeling of his calloused hands on your soft skin makes you shiver; Johnny presses a kiss to your pulse point. You know he can feel the way your heartbeat picks up quickly, and he bites down on the sensitive skin lightly. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you, the way you buck your hips upward into his.

“Birdie.” It’s a warning and a promise rolled into one, and it makes you press your knees together, trying to slow yourself down.

You let your own hands start exploring Johnny. Once, you’d had his skin memorized - every scar and freckle committed to your own memory. But there are new scars there you’ve never seen before, new wrinkles at the corner of his eyes he didn’t have before.

It’s like the first time again, both of you exploring each other slowly. Johnny pauses every time you make a noise, eyes searching your face to make sure you’re alright. You push him away just long enough to pull his shirt off of him, hands instantly reaching out to pull him back down. His own hands slide your shorts down until you can kick them across the room.

Johnny kisses you, full of the same desperation he’d had that day at the hospital. Your teeth click together as the two of you suddenly move frantically, hands grasping at each other. Johnny shakes as you run your nails down his back, pushing until he realizes what you want.

Johnny rolls, hands still wrapped around your waist until you’re on top of him. The thin material of your panties is already wet; you can feel it when you grind down on him. The rough material of his blue jeans has enough friction to send lighting bolts through you.

“Is that what you want birdie?” Johnny’s voice is low and rough in his throat; his hands rest lightly on your hips as you grind down. Your hands reach back to rest on his thighs, more leverage for you to move.

You can’t answer him, already biting down on the moans that start to build in the back of your throat. Johnny’s grip tights as you speed up; you can feel his erection pressing tightly against his zipper as you grind faster.

You feel yourself start to tremble, hands moving to brace yourself against Johnny’s chest. He wraps one hand around your wrist, the other still at your waist; you can’t look away from the hungry glint in his eye.

Outside the storm lashes, the cool air rolling in across you and Johnny.

“Let it out,” he whispers, voice ragged and panting. He’s bucking his own hips in time with your grinding; he’s holding back - you know he doesn’t want to scare you, so you loosen the knot inside of you, moaning loud enough that a blush starts to creep up your chest. At the sound, Johnny bucks up harder.

You can’t help the way you come undone, nails digging into Johnny’s chest, leaving half moons on the sensitive skin. Johnny lets you ride him until the waves of your orgasm finish rolling over you, his hands not leaving you until you finally still, thighs shaking on each side of him. You can feel your drenched underwear, feel yourself soaking into his blue jeans.

Johnny is so hard beneath you, a red flush across his chest. Outside the storm rages harder, and the lights flicker momentarily. Johnny pushes himself up onto one elbow, the hand that has refused to move up your shirt sliding up just an inch. His fingers play with the edge of your underwear, the lace snagging on his callouses.

“Why don’t you want to touch me?” You can barely hear yourself over the rain lashing against the window; Johnny’s eyebrows knit together, and he pushes himself up until he’s sitting up, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep from falling backward.

“I want to touch you,” he tries to reassure you, hands tracing patterns across the back of your shirt. But you shrug his hands off, catching his wrists in your hands before he can fully withdraw away.

“You won’t touch me beneath my shirt,” you slide his hands down to the bare skin of your thighs, moving them until the hem of your shirt falls over his fingertips. “You wouldn’t take a shower with me.”

Johnny chews on his lips, they’re too chapped, you think. The silence stretches in the sound of the storm, and the flickering lights. Before Johnny can speak lightning and thunder crash outside, and the house goes dark - the sound of the electricity powering down cutting him off. Neither of you moves in the sudden blackness.

“I’m not broken, Johnny.” You don’t want to sound so pathetic, but you do.

“I know you’re not, hen.”

“Then why am I having to beg, Johnny?”

Johnny’s hand slips up so that he’s holding your hips beneath your shirt.

“I’m not going to hurt you too.”

It’s a tough confession for him to make, you know. He’d done his best not to talk about the whole ordeal, he never asked what you went through. This was his way of keeping you away from it.

You roll your hips across his again, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Please Johnny; you’re not going to hurt me.”

You don’t know if it’s the whine in your voice or the way you trace your fingers across the hard plane of his chest, or if Johnny is just as tired of holding back as you - but he rolls you over, gentle and quick until his chest his pressed against yours, his mouth finding the sensitive skin at the base of your neck.

You’re horribly out of practice, fumbling with the buttons on his jeans, getting stuck when Johnny pulls your shirt over your head, but he doesn’t let his lips leave you; your teeth clip together as Johnny deepens the kiss he refuses to let end until your gasping for breath beneath him.

It’s electric in the best and worst ways - Johnny’s calloused fingers tracing patterns on your stomach, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts, fingers teasing the edge of your underwear, pushing them further down each time.

The current running through you makes it difficult to breathe; you can’t even warn Johnny, can’t beg him to slow down what you were just begging him to speed up. But there has never been anyone who’s known you the same way Johnny has, and when his hands slow you know he can feel that it’s too much. Just for a moment.

“Still with me?”

“Still here.”

Johnny’s hands don’t speed up, but he doesn’t slow either - pressing open-mouth kisses down your neck, between your breasts, across the planes of your stomach until he finally stops at the edge of your underwear. He darts his tongue out to lick the sensitive skin peeking out above the hem, and the feeling makes you gasp out, hips pressing harder into the mattress. His fingertips brush just over the wetness you’ve soaked through and you grind your teeth together, painfully.

“Too much?”

Yes.

Too much for you at this moment; you’re not sure if your body will hold together if Johnny even tries to eat you out, tries to stretch you with his fingers, you can hardly keep together at the feeling of him touching you anywhere after so many months of nothing but dirt, and maggots, and feverish longing for-

You didn’t notice Johnny crawling back up your body until he presses a soft kiss on your temple, fingers wiping away your hair that’s plastered with sweat there.

Johnny’s whispering in your ear: how much he missed you, how he had thought about you every day, how he’d tried to scorch the earth to look for you; he pulls you until you’re back on top of him. You can feel how hard he is, how wet you are as you grind down against the hard planes of his lower stomach, searching for him.

Johnny’s hands squeeze at your hips, shifting the both of you until you feel the tip of him catch against you; a shudder rolls through you both, but Johnny doesn’t move. Every muscle in his body is pulled taunt, pulled against fucking into you at a frenetic pace. You recognize the set of his jaw, the way his hands wrap around your forearms. He’s letting you set the pace, letting you control him.

You wait for just a heartbeat before pressing down onto him; your vision whites out from the almost uncomfortable stretch of him as you sink down slowly. You can’t remember the last time the two of you were here, the last time the two of you fucked. Johnny’s nails dig into the underside of your forearm, yours into his chest until you finally reach the hilt.

You hold there for a moment, feeling the way he fills you up - so much so that you don’t think there’s room for anything else besides Johnny - there never has been. You can’t even think between the feeling of Johnny filling you up and the feeling of not trying to cum so fast. Finally, when your heartbeat slows incrementally, you rock yourself against him, slowly, using his chest as leverage.

Beneath you Johnny is coming undone; he’s biting his lip so hard you think he might draw blood, so you trace your fingertips across his bottom lip. His lips part beneath your touch, and he takes your pointer finger into his mouth, tongue swirling around it.

The feeling makes your hips move faster, stuttering against him. Johnny moans, muffled around your finger. The sound is horribly erotic in the darkness, and it spurs something inside of you to move your hips faster, rougher against Johnny. But he doesn’t move beneath you, still holding himself back. The sound of skin on skin, of how wet you are for him drown out the storm.

Johnny’s hands are everywhere: in your hair, cupping the supple flesh of your ass, pinching and rolling your nipples between his thick fingers; one hand sneaks across the flesh of your hip, dipping between the two of you to circle your clit. The feeling makes you crumple against him; Johnny takes the opportunity to roll you over, pressing you into the mattress.

Johnny presses one of your knees up, hooking it over his elbow so that he can fuck into you, still gentle even when he’s deeper than you think he’s ever been before, his other hand still circling your clit, slowly enough to keep you from falling apart, but fast enough to bring you to the edge.

His pace grows rougher; you claw at him, drawing red welts across his skin, but Johnny doesn’t slow down. You keep your eyes closed tightly, back arched to try and get him in deeper, to get more.

“Look at me.”

Johnny’s voice is rough, a gentle command you have to follow. His eyes never leave yours, even when his pace increases, the finger on your clit still rubbing tight circles until-

Until you’re breaking apart, shattering beneath him. Your orgasm makes you arch, back nearly leaving the mattress. Johnny’s hands move to cup your face, pulling himself down until he can kiss you as you ride through your orgasm, gasping in his own mouth. Your nails draw thick red welts across his back, but Johnny doesn’t stop pounding into you, your moans drowned out by the way he kisses you.

Not long after, Johnny’s pace starts to stutter, his lips never leaving yours until he plunges in deeper than he had before, and you can feel his warm release spill out inside of you.

Even when he’s completely spent, Johnny doesn’t pull out of you, instead fucking into you once, twice, three more times until you know you can’t take anymore, hands pressing on his chest to push him away.

Johnny’s fingers smooth your twitching thighs as he pulls away. In the darkness, you can just see his outline as he shifts between your legs, but he doesn’t move from there.

He caresses you until you are finally still and your panting finally slows. His fingers trace across the cracks you can still feel, stitching you back together, shot through with gold.

“Still here?”

“Still here.”

#my fics #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish #cod soap x reader #cod imagines #cod smut #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #cod x reader #johnny mactavish

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cerismo · 2 months

Text

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

P1. P2. P3. P4.

𐙚 . . . pairing. toxic!rafe x toxic!fem kook!olivia wilson

୨ৎ . . . genre. slow burn. everyone else can see it but them (trope)

.ᐟ . . . content warnings. cussing, arguing

Rafe Cameron and Olivia Wilson were too blind to see their love for each other.

“please please please, don’t prove I’m right”

“What was that all about?” Sarah asked taking a glance at me, while eating her snacks that I bought from the store.

“Oh nothing, just your dumbass brother being a dick.” I said sarcastically my eyes still on the road, my hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“Liv, don’t sweat it too much. You know he’s like madly in love with you.” She said now staring at me from her seat.

I looked at her so fast, we almost swerved off the road. “Sar what the hell? No he isn’t. If anything he hates me and I hate him.” I said my focus now strictly on the road.

“Literally everyone knows. It’s so obvious you too like each others. It’s been that way since like forever.” She said it like it was obvious.

After like 20 minutes we finally arrived at the beach. We hopped out of my car and made our way down the little trail.

We spotted the group and made our way towards them. “Hey guys.” I said giving everyone a hug starting with Kie.

“We missed you around here.” Kie said. I took a step back and looked around the party, then back at the group.

“Yeah guys I know, it’s just my mom has been holding me up lately, she’s been wanting more “family time” it’s crazy.” I said throwing up air quotes. I mean don’t get me wrong I love my mom but it’s like she’s hoarding me up at home. I literally have no idea why.

——

After like 10 shots I was starting to feel it. My throat was somehow still burning, but I got up anyway and made my way to the keg. I grabbed one of those red party cups and starting pouring. I felt someone’s presence behind me, so I stopped pouring my drink and turned around.

It was one of the kooks, if I remember I think his name is Travis? I’ve seen him a few times, at a few parties, and sometimes at school. But since summer just started I haven’t seen him since.

“Hey pretty lady.” He said eyeing me up and down. I slightly rolled my eyes at his comment.

“Hey pretty boy, my eyes are up here.” I said slightly slurred from those 10 shots I had earlier. I took a sip from my drink and watched a he licked his juicy lips. I felt his hands slip around my waist and pull me closer to his body.

“Hey why don’t we uh- get outta here.” He said starting to walk. I was following but then remembered my friends, and that I brought Sarah here with me.

“But what about my friends?” I said haulting to a stop and turning around to look around. But they were nowhere in sight.

“They’ll be fine. Just come on.” He said now pulling me to walk. We walked until we made it to the big tree on the upper shore. He pushed me against the tree, his hand still on my waist.

He grabbed my drink and placed it down on the ground his hand still on my hip. When he came back up he placed his free hand on my face and slowly caressed it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful…” He said moving a few stray hair out of my face. I giggled a bit at his comment.

Before I could even say anything his lips were against mine and his hands were trailing further down my body. He started leaving a trail of kisses and hickeys down my neck. One of his hands gripped my ass while the other made its way back up my chest and grapped my boob.

He parted his lips from my neck, and started at my boobs for a few seconds before making his fingers in between the straps of my dress and started pulling them down.

Before he could even get the straps fully down my shoulder, I heard a car pulling up. I had opened my eyes to take a better look at the car, and I noticed it was a black truck, one familiar to the one Rafe has.

I heard the door slam and footsteps approaching, Travis lifted his head from my chest and turned around to see who the hell was marching towards us.

It was fucking Rafe. He stomped his way over to us, throwing Travis to the side and grabbing me by my arm and pulling us away.

“Hey dude what the hell” Travis said walking after us. “Oh shut the hell up Travis.” Rafe said with a tone of annoyance in his voice. I winced at the sheer pain of his grip on my arm.

“Rafe let me go.” I struggled to get out of his grasp which only made it tighter.

The whole walk back to the bonfire was silent. Before I knew it we were approaching the group. Rafe damn near threw me into all of them when he let me go.

“Watch your fucking friend. She’s out here being a fucking slut.” Rafe said looking at the group then me in disappointment.

I paused in shock. The rest of the group and a couple bystanders gasped. Then I came back to reality, what the fuck did he just call me?

“HEARTBREAK IS ONE THING MY EGOS ANOTHER”

Before I knew it my hand was attached to Rafes face, and it stung. Oh shit I had just slapped Rafe fucking Cameron.

MO YAPS

tagged: @venusxsturnio, @flouvela, @monroesturnns

GUYS?!? This shit is actually interesting and i’m the one writing it. I know it’s not a lot but there will be more tomorrow. I’m scared for what happens next…

Lemme know your thoughts in the comments, or reblogsss

#outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe obx #rafecameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey smut #rafe x reader #outer banks fanfiction #chase stokes #madelyn cline #madison bailey #rudy pankow #johnathan daviss #rafe outer banks #outerbanks #rafe fic

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thvkei · 2 years

Note

hi kira! me again lol

I got this idea while trying to sleep last night but what if the haitani brothers had a sister (maybe their twin? like rindou or ran's twin since they're different ages) who's deaf? and if tenjiku meets her, how will they react?

- love Ria ✨

IMAGINE ME, BUT TWICE !

ft. rindou, ran, izana, kakucho, shion, hanma, kokonoi x fem!reader

genre. sprinkle of angst, fluff, headcanons

notes. HI RIAAA<3 this was so cute my heart hurts :,)) + this post is sfw, but this account contains nsfw content. please do not follow if you're a minor.

growing up with a disability with your two brothers took not only great hardships, but also a huge amount love.

in your case, you were born hard-of-hearing and was completely deaf by the time you were three.

being rindou's twin sister was something you'd always known. you'd never known a life outside him, and your older brother, ran.

you and the boys had a rough childhood. your parents were bums, resulting in the three of you deciding to make a life for yourself at the measly ages of 12 and 11.

ran was only 1 when you two were born, but he quickly began to grasp that you didn't respond to his voice like rindou did. it hurt him deeply, especially more so when your mother refused to attend any type of therapy or sign language lessons.

so, as soon as he was able to, he took it upon himself to learn how to attend to yours and rindou's needs. it was hard. extremely. but he couldn't let you be treated the way he was. neglected and alone, ran fought to keep the two of you safe under the so called 'guidance' of your two useless parents.

by the time he was 10 and you and rin were 9, you developed your own methods of conversation.

as most kids make fun of things they don't understand, such as disabilities, you were teased for your voice from a young age - which caused you to shy away from speaking and only rely on writing and sign for communication.

meeting new people was hard, but, under the protection of your two big brothers, no one dared question you or your lack of speech. any one who did or had previously was left with a broken nose - at least.

due to growing up with them, it was almost a given that you would adopt their attitude. how someone could convey so much sass through their expressions alone, the brothers weren't sure. but they loved it; they loved how you expressed yourself regardless of other people's opinions, even if sometimes it was at their expense.

you'd also, thanks to years of practice and close observation, taught yourself how to lip read. it's always funny when you would appear out of nowhere during, well, what they assumed was a private conversation, and easily answer any inquires or issues they were facing despite not asking you directly.

of course, you knew they were delinquents. and good ones, at that. even though their lifestyle was dangerous, you were drawn to it, naturally. seeing how much fun they had always enticed you, especially since you'd spent so many years of your life living under the armor they forged themselves.

the boys knew you were strong. they'd taught you everything they knew over the years. so when you asked them if you could join tenjiku and fight by their side and they refused, you responded by wrapping your legs around your older brothers head and slamming him against the ground.

yeah, they changed their minds pretty quickly.

tenjiku wasn't aware of the haitanis' little sister until they were face to face with her, staring in confusion at the little girl who closely resembled their cogent executive, rindou.

izana tilted his head at you, staring in confusion. this was the powerful up-coming new member of his gang? a girl?

"she may be deaf, but trust me-" ran smirked, standing at your side with his arms folded. "she gets what she wants."

it was ironic, really, how good you were at convincing people. it had been a skill you'd never lacked in. when you wanted something, you got it. and you prided yourself in that fact.

kakucho is immediately drawn to your ambitious and fearless demeanor, the way you handle yourself - the way you handle others. he admires it. you almost make a weakness look like a strength.

izana is familiar with the basics of sign language, he'd learned it back in the orphanage he stayed in out of boredom and curiosity.

kokonoi isn't familiar with the language nor does he care. sure, you may be useful, but your weakness is so great that he assumes that you will only drag tenjiku down. however he doesn't object.

shion finds it rather amusing, a deaf girl trying to interfere with hardcore gang shit, deciding not to conceal a short laugh. that mistake immediately earned him an almost lethal punch from rindou. sending him towards the ground with a crack.

kisaki thinks it's stupid to get someone like you involved in a gang war. you will only be a liability to them, he thinks. my, how wrong he is.

hanma is, like izana, curious. it's clear to everyone here that you have rin and ran wrapped around your little finger. which consequently meant that you basically had an army of men at the of every whisper, weep or cry. you're powerful. he likes that.

as the days passed by, you continued to prove yourself to them, rounding up new members, strong ones, and leaving them at your disposal. the tenjiku members, apart from ran and rindou, of course, who already knew how you operated, were left speechless.

they found themselves learning sign language on their own will, wanting to understand more about you and how your brain worked. even shion picked up a goddamn picture book.

kokonoi finds himself reluctantly interested, refusing to admit to any one else that your abilities really did outshine your drawback.

however, while you're good at fighting, you aren't the best.

this becomes apparent when a deranged and practically nuts member of a rival gang lunges for you and you barely dodge him, scarcely avoiding a knife in your side.

kokonoi grabs you quickly, shoving you behind him without even thinking. his own actions leave him completely shocked and confused.

tenjiku in turn leaves him permanently paralyzed, discovering that over time you had also swooned them. they weren't sure how, or why, but it just happened.

even though he would never admit it directly, kakucho enjoyed your company and respected you as a fellow member.

the first time hanma made an effort was when he learned a pun in JSL, which came as a huge surprise to you.

that was also the first time he heard your voice - when you tried to hide your laughter from him by covering your mouth with your hand.

he was immediately smitten.

over time, tenjiku progressively become more protective. it's like an instinct. one bad word of you, and their opposition is dead. that's just how it works.

ran and rindou continue to be your number one boys, the brothers you can rely on above all else.

izana trusts you with plans and keeping everyone in order and respects you as his underling. but on a personal level, he thinks even more of you.

even kisaki learns some of the basic cues, giving you at least a little respect even though you often make it known that you don't enjoy his company.

overall, being the haitani's underestimated little sis had its perks. having a disability didn't change how much they loved you in the slightest. it just made you stronger.

please do not repost or steal my work ─ i don't allow translations or resposts on any other platforms.

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lake-archive · 11 months

Text

Track 7

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Series: Three CATZ In The Bag

Characters: Eli (by @watersofcamelot), Ole (OC), Ann Wolff (OC), Kadenokoji Ichijiku

AO3 Link

Track 6 - Track List - Track 8

No use, he had to return eventually. It was a reaction out of reflex, because Eli had no idea how else to react to any of this. It had overwhelmed him, to the point he had not thought clearly. And with his head now cleared up he was ready to head home, Ann and Ole probably still waiting. Or so he had hoped… Honestly, if he had walked past one of them while he was outside it would be very inconvenient, a bit of a bother even. He didn’t take his time yet did not run either as a result, just hoping for the best. However… This would not happen. Of course it wouldn’t.

“Look look look, what do we have here? A little girl on the loose.

Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Just an insect to crush.

Hey why don’t you run home? Oh right, heard you have none.

Mommy left, you’re stuck.

The brat’s on the loose, ready to be picked up.

How about you’ll be a good girl and get into your cell? Sure you’ll love it.

And your brute? You better say goodbye, because it won’t see another day~”

If it had just stayed at that he would have just walked past the scene and ignored it. It was not rare that two idiots battled it out, away from the prying eye. Why? Because they could. Well, it wasn't as if he would blame them, it could get boring sometimes. And people will be people. Not like he could talk to begin with, he was causing problems every other week. That corrupt ass of a cop must have enough of him at this point. But whatever.

However, when hearing another voice suddenly screaming out of their lungs he quickly turned his attention there.

“Right on the clock and has enough time to mock.

Too scared for someone your size? Or do you enjoy tramblin’ on mice?

Be bitchin’ ‘round, that’s all you can say.

‘If it were me you’d be dead’ – Yeah ok.

Ya wanna get fucked up? Then come right at.

I’ll hit ya gut and get ya locked right up!

Your luck’s run out so give up or me and Ole are gonna fuck you up!”

When he looked over there he saw… Ann? With a Hypnosis Microphone in their hand!? And beneath her skirt was Ole, sheltering his ears and… The mic still with him yet he had dropped it for the time being, shaking while trying to hold his own ground. Wait… It affected him too? Huh, there one has it…

But back to the matter at hand. It was somewhat of a terrifying sight, to say the least. Sure, he knew Ann was working for the Chouhku and all of that crap but battling one of her colla— Wait, unless… That doesn’t just happen, does it?

Eli knew enough to conclude that this was not the norm in any way. Something must have happened. The women usually do not attack one another, not that he knew. Unless that was the case and he had never paid any type of attention. Well, even if Ann said she was not one, most would probably still see her as one. So this was—

However, his thoughts would be interrupted when seeing her suddenly being slammed by a few waves, as if too much air pressure had been applied. She got smashed into the next best wall with her back with full force, letting out a loud, painful groan. Ole looked panicked, his head turning all over. His ears trembled and he seemed to be unable to move away. One gaze at the woman and he may as well be a cat statue, as if the fear was overcoming him. It was a state not even Eli had seen the cat in. And yet, the old man of cat’s tail was standing up alongside his fur, as if ready to lunge. He just had to collect himself, it seemed before going on the offense. Well, not like he will have to worry about that because… Eli couldn’t look at this. Not when it was them, both at once.

So when the officer was about to approach the cat Eli jumped in between them, yelling: “What’s going on over here!? The hell!?”

That got the attention of the officer, her eyeing Eli up and down yet soon looking a little with disgust at him, even slightly annoyed. “Tch, why does a swine have to appear now?”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” He responded, a little annoyed while crossing his arms.

“Tch, none of your business anyway. Piss off, I’m punishing a traitor and criminal here before caging her in.”

“Criminal? Traitor?” That had Eli confused. Never had he ever expected to hear this about Ann. After all, they were not known to be a troublemaker but he was! They were about to steal his role here!

With jokes aside, this was so odd to hear for his own ears. Ann never struck him as that type of person. But… If his assumption right then—

“I said piss off, didn’t I? You got no business here.” The officer scoffed, the annoyance written all over her face. “Or do I gotta shove you outta the way too?”

Eli grit his teeth at this… This was just… No, he shouldn’t just stand here doing nothing. Especially when it was not just Ann involved but also Ole… A literally cat was in the crossfire. And sure, he was far from ordinary, but a cat was a cat. Besides, they were the two attacked as far as he was concerned.

It may have been a sudden reflex at that moment yet he decided to not stand idle. So he picked up the microphone next to Ole quickly and then—

“Ey little shit. You? Yeah, you!

Got something to say?

Ya preachin’ the law and all of that crap. Well, I’ve had it so listen up!

Ya lot’s the same, preaching this and that! But you’re no better than the other crap!

Arson, Assault, Affray – No for us but yes for you?

Y’know, I’d give a flying fuck!

Ya break the law? Well, so will I!

Now taste that assault!”

As the words came out of his very own mouth an illusion of shooting weapons surrounded the young man, setting their aim quickly before shooting the officer several times with each upcoming word. She staggered a few times yet would fall on her knees eventually, panting shortly after. It was all it took it seemed, enough for Eli to let out a deep sigh, then looking down at the woman.

“Ya had enough or you need another shooting?” He asked, ready to continue anytime. Honestly, he was feeling extra generous for the sight he got to witness. He wanted to give back to this one tenfold but a voice would suddenly interrupt all of it.

“Alright! That’s enough! All of you, silence!” Another woman had entered the scene, a loud voice asserting its dominance! Or something like that. Yet it would send shivers down the regular person’s spine. It sure had everyone’s attention and they all were turning their heads. The steps were audible, mainly due to the heels which made her appear taller than she actually was. And yet, that only made her more intimidating. Then again, as Deputy prime Minister it might have been an obvious and natural choice. But what was Kadenokoji even doing here? Well… Maybe she was just in the area or something like that. Not like Eli was unfamiliar with her. When shit hit the fan with him, she had to be the one who had to clean it up. She was the last resort but the only one who could put a stop to him. Or ‘stop’. Usually it would be amusing but now? Awful timing. He was just getting started.

Soon enough Kadenokoji stood close to the scene, her eyes scanning the area, looking as cold and strict as always. When spotting Eli she clicked her tongue, her mood worsening, before turning back to the hunched down officer. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

The unnamed woman lifted her head up, looking up in shock, almost terrified. “K… Kadenokoji–Sama! I… Just…”

“Was this arrest ordered?”

“Ah— W… Well…”

“Yes or no!?”

The officer gulped for a moment before meekly shaking her head, too afraid to speak up.

“Was someone acting out of line!?”

Another meek headshake.

“Then what gives you the right to attack a civilian!?”

“B… But the traitor—”

“That is not for you to decide! We decided to let her go. So unless she is causing problems, you have no right to attack her or any other civilian!”

“Hah!? If I ma–”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I!?”

“Ah– N… No Ma'am!" The officer stood up, having gone pale by then, the terror all too visible. talk about setting someone straight.

Kadenokoji sighed. “Leave! We’ll talk about this later.”

“Y… Yeah…” And with that the officer left, though not before shooting a cold glare at Eli and even Ann probably, then hurrying away. With that, the Deputy Prime Minister’s attention was all theirs, even having the honor to speak to her face to face.

Well, not Eli, he may as well have been air. Instead she had been approaching Ann who was slowly getting up. All while Ole was hiding behind Eli’s legs, peeking out to see this unfold probably.

“Get up.” Kadenokoji said, almost commanding yet there was no need to tell the brunette twice.

“Wh… Why did you—” Ann was about to ask, the surprise written all over their own face.

“Traitor or not, Otome–Sama decided to let you off the hook.” She interrupted however. “You should know better though than to be so careless.”

“Ah— R… Right. Sorry.”

“Take this as a warning. They are all out for blood. I saved your ass for the first and last time.”

“Y… Yeah. Thank you for that.”

“Whatever. I just happened to be in the area.” Kadenokoji gave Ann a glance, only leaving the other one confused for a moment. “You better be ready to fight from now on. They won’t get rest until you are either locked up or dead.”

With that the tall woman turned away, once more passing by Eli and being gone before anyone of the three knew it. Ann was about to ask something yet they did not get the chance yet even he knew this was odd. The air around the two was a little… Unusual. He could somewhat tell. And yet, he did not have the time to think about it too much as he quickly turned to Ann, throwing a somewhat sharp glare at her while crossing his own arms.

“So… What’s this about? Care to explain Sis?” He asked, visibly putting her on the spot.

“Hah!? W… Well…”

“C’mon, what are you hiding? There’s gotta be a reason for this nonsense.”

They gazed away for a moment, debating perhaps if it was ok to speak up. But the decision was made rather quickly, to say the least, given the gaze back. “Hah… Fine. I guess I can’t hide this from you after all.”

Track 6 - Track List - Track 8

#Nimue's Lake #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #original male character #male original character #original character #non binary oc #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic oc #hypmic #hypnosis mic #ichijiku kadenokouji #kadenokouji ichijiku #hypmic ichijiku

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farahsamboolents · 2 years

Text

As promised, here are the DELETED SCENES from I’m The First In Line (my steddie fic on ao3)

I’M THE FIRST IN LINE: DELETED SCENES

You might recognize some of these passages from the completed fic - the whole point of having a Deleted Scenes is so I can go through and pick out the buried gems when I find a good home for them. Pretty sure I just mushed two different phrases together there, but you get the point. These are all in here for the reusability factor (in either concept or wording), OR to make a point about why I didn’t use them and explain how it goes against the ethos of the completed fic.

(If I kept retrying the same scene over and over, I mushed them all together a little)

Steve breathed another heavy sigh. “I guess I could just pretend. I could still find a girl who wants to be a mother of six.”

“But you don’t want to.”

“No. I want him.”

[END SCENE]

Deleted because “no, I want him” sounded… too much? Right now he just has a crush, he’s not quite ready for marriage and six kids… with Eddie, anyway. The man is ready to build a goddamn family. Slow down. Turn twenty first.

“I can feel it, sometimes.” She said. “When people are in the Upside Down. And I can find them there, too.”

“Yeah, and I can tell when someone took too much, but only if I’m close enough.”

She looked back at him, studying him.

Eddie matched her gaze.

“I heard about that fucked up facility you went to,” he said softly, “they probably made it sound like it was all your fault, right? Like they could fix you?”

She nodded, looking away.

“I went to - not the same, obviously, no superpowers here - but I kinda had the same thing happen. It’s why I live with my uncle, he got me out of there.”

She met his gaze again. “Why?” She said.

He let out a deep sigh.

“Because god hates gays, or some shit.” She looked at him inquisitively, so he continued, “I like boys. Same way you do. Don’t spread it around or anything, there’s a reason I went there in the first place but, if we’re on the topic of things that aren’t our fault.” He shrugged, shoulders scraping against the concrete.

“It took a lot of time to unlearn the crap that they told me.

[END SCENE]

Deleted because I didn’t want Eddie to come out to El just yet, and didn’t have a way of explaining why he was sent away otherwise. HOWEVER, I still kind of miss the opportunity to have them bond over that. On the other hand, I really really want to make sure I treat that part of his backstory right, and coming out of the closet willy-nilly is dangerous now a lot of the time, and he’s in smalltown Indiana in the 80’s.

The door leading to the house slammed open just then, and they both jumped.

“I found them!” Shouted Mike’s voice, “They’re both by the pool!”

“Jesus,” breathed Eddie, hand over his heart, as he heard a chorus of oh my god and you scared us from the doorway, where everyone spilling out of the house.

He rolled over to get up, fighting against his stiff and aching joints. Fuck, something as easy as standing up should not be this complicated.

He yelped as the ground suddenly flew away from beneath him, limbs flailing wildly for… grip? Balance? He had no idea, but the ground came back, slower, and his feet were placed on the ground just as gently as his cane was placed into his palm.

El was smiling at him as she wiped her nose on her sleeve with the hand was outstretched in his direction just a second ago.

[END SCENE]

Deleted because too many people showed up, and I wanted it to just be him and Steve. I like the idea of El helping him up, though. What I would give to have someone help me up like that some days…

It was the first day of school, according to the walkie-talkie’s nonstop chatter the day previous. The vast majority of Eddie’s friends consisted of teenagers who coordinated a game plan for the first day of sophomore year. The first day of school was a day Eddie knew all too well, and yet, for the first time in six years, he had nowhere to be. It was an odd feeling. It might have even been a nice one, if he had a more pleasant reason to climb out of bed.

[END SCENE}

Deleted because I ended up setting Eddie’s panic attack in late September rather than the first day of school.

It felt peaceful, thought Eddie, to watch the sun rise with Steve by his side. They didn’t talk much, just watched as the sun slowly rose.

Eddie didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until Wayne woke him up with a mug of coffee under his nose.

He was surprised to find that Steve was still there. Wayne handed him a mug as well.

When Wayne ruffled his hair and then Steve’s in turn, Eddie wanted this moment - with Steve’s bashful smile, holding Wayne’s favourite mug, and a comfortable breeze - to last forever.

Steve eventually had to shatter the illusion by leaving for an appointment - some sort of test to make sure he was firefighter ready - but he left behind a warmth in Eddie’s chest, as if he had lit a campfire in there. It was only fitting, Eddie supposed, that he was camped out in there.

[END SCENE]

Deleted because this scene felt unproductive. I kept getting stuck. However, them napping on the front porch together? Golden.

Eddie to Max: I didn’t even mean to tell you, but now that you know, it’s a 50/50 on reactions. So give me a minute before I play with that ratio again.

[END SCENE]

Deleted because I realized that he was outed to Robin and Vickie who both had neutral reactions (although technically Eddie interpreted them as negative, but that’s neither here nor there), and while I may have failed math, but I know that it’s definitely not a 50/50 anymore. Too bad, though, I liked that line.

He then paused, and his face changed to one of confusion, brows knitting even further into themselves, and his frown was so high that it almost disappeared under his moustache.

“What’re you smiling for, kid?”

Eddie was indeed grinning wryly. “I don’t know, Wayne, maybe because this is the first time since spring break that you’ve actually talked to me like I’m not going to shatter.”

Wayne blinked. After a pause, he said roughly, “You better not have been hurting yourself on purpose for me to get mad at you.”

“Not on purpose, no. I just,” Eddie shrugged, trailing off his sentence.

Wayne sank back into his chair and slowly slid Eddie’s mug back across the table. An olive branch.

“I’m sorry if I haven’t been talking to you right. I’m tired of you being hurt and didn’t wanna be the one doing it.”

[END SCENE]

Deleted because the tension died too fast. Also, has anyone else noticed I make my characters say half sentences and trail off? I keep catching myself doing that. It’s not always bad, but sometimes the quirk is out of character in the moment.

“The Upside Down fucking destroyed me,” he said, voice shaking with a half cooked combination of anger and fear, “And it destroyed you, and it destroyed our home, and it destroyed half of this goddamn town, and it killed Chrissy.”

He swallowed heavily. Wayne looked terrified. He simultaneously wanted to comfort him, and laugh in his face because now you know a fraction of how I feel.

[END SCENE]

I went from “the tension died too fast” to “wow the tension is too high and I don’t know how to pull back from it”. FIGHT SCENES ARE HARD, OKAY. Also I want to have Wayne be like “ok something is fucky with this Upside Down business” without having Wayne be, y’know, in on it. (…Yet.)

Eddie’s eyes flickered to meet Wayne’s briefly, but otherwise he didn’t move.

“I’m sorry.” Said Wayne. “I’m gonna need you to use that cane, though.”

“Oh goodie,” said Eddie, words laced with sarcastic delight, “I love telling people that their favourite murderer has an achilles heel.”

Wayne sighed. “I don’t have answers for you, kid. I just know that hiding from yourself is going to make it hurt worse in the long run.”

[END SCENE]

Might reuse that achilles heel line at some point.

The sirens finally pulled into the parking lot. Eddie felt himself go numb with relief as officers jumped out of the car, surrounding them and shouting.

Eddie wanted to watch Andy get cuffed, but couldn’t really complain when Hopper approached him and Steve.

“You two alright?” He said. Steve looked to Eddie.

“I’m,” said Eddie, and cut himself off. The numbness was giving way to all his injuries, new and old, starting with the pain of his throat from having been strangled.

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” He quipped with a strained smile. His voice was croaky, as if he had a bad cold.

He was dizzy.

Hopper watched him, concerned, and looked to Steve. “Can I trust you to look out for him, or do you two need a ride to the hospital.”

Steve looked back at Eddie again, who began protesting that he surely didn’t need to be hospitalized again, but Hopper cut him off.

“Harrington, I asked you for a reason.” Said Hopper.

Steve looked back and forth between the two of them. When his only response was an irritated expression from Hopper and a confused one from Eddie, his face melted into an embarrassed smile.

“Um, I actually can’t, I can’t hear right now.” Said Steve loudly.

[END SCENE]

Deleted for two reasons: One, why would Eddie go numb with relief at seeing the cops, he called them pigs literally 2,000 words ago (actually it was 1,999, I checked).

Two, I decided that Hop should know about the whole hearing thing ahead of time, since they’re both First Responders.

Steve had something tucked under his arm, and once Eddie was settled in to the ambulance, Steve flipped it around; it was a small whiteboard, and on it, in Steve’s messy handwriting, was. written DO YOU WANT ME TO GO WITH YOU.

Underneath it, in smaller writing, was written sorry for yelling.

Eddie grinned and nodded.

[END SCENE]

When Eddie was younger, he never got the opportunity to pass notes in class.

He wasn’t jealous of the note passing per se, especially when the teacher would steal the notes in question and read out that Tommy H. totally kissed Tiffany behind the gym!, but he was a little jealous of the easy friendship that it represented. He would much rather be passed a silly note in class than have that paper be used to blow a spitball in his hair.

Now, writing little notes back and forth on a spare notepad that a nurse had given Steve, he felt a childish glee as he waited for Steve to finish his sentence.

[END SCENE]

Once the ambulance was moving, Eddie found himself being lulled to sleep by the movement.

The paramedic snapped her fingers in his face. “Oi. Awake.” She said, “We don’t know if you have a concussion yet.”

She turned to Steve before Eddie could complain that he hadn’t hit his head. “You wanna help me keep him awake?” She said.

Steve smiled politely. “You want me to keep him awake?” He said.

[END SCENE

Steve was surprisingly good at hiding his hearing loss.

In the ambulance, the paramedic asked him to help keep Eddie awake. Steve just looked between Eddie and the paramedic, and said, “you want me to keep him awake?”

Eddie figured that it was probably just a logical conclusion to make, given the context, but he was impressed nonetheless.

Steve then whipped out a pen and a notepad out of his pocket and began a game of hangman.

Eddie thought it was a little on the nose, given his bruised neck at the moment, but played along. He laughed through the pain when it turned out the answer to Steve’s little game was Dorothy.

He stole the notepad to write who’s that? and doodled a little face that looked confused.

Steve grinned. No idea! He responded.

That was when the ambulance pulled up to the hospital. Eddie had assumed that being brought via ambulance would get him a room right away, but no, they were unceremoniously dumped in the waiting room.

Eddie should’ve been miserable, he knew. His neck ached, his windpipe felt like it was half the size it ought to be, and his tongue was bleeding through the gauze in his mouth, but he was resting his head on Steve’s shoulder as he filled out the paperwork he had been handed. He couldn’t help but focus on the warm little buzz he felt in his chest instead.

He was halfway through the paperwork - something about consenting to treatment, and he was here, wasn’t he - when Steve slipped a piece of notepad paper on top of the clipboard he had been given.

sorry for the dorothy thing I thought you knew

Eddie snorted.

He hovered his pen over the piece of paper for ages, trying to formulate a response, when his name was called. He looked up to see Dr. Owens standing in the hallway, beckoning him over.

It figured. Eddie hadn’t seen Dr. Owens since he had been discharged, but he had been in charge of Eddie’s care since the day that he had been cleared of all charges, and Mike had explained that he was some sort of Upside Down specialist. Eddie mostly remembered him from the absurd amount of blood draws he had taken; he remembered glowering at Owens’ inceasingly apologetic face and asking if they were planning on draining him completely.

Owens had offered him a lot of cookies afterwards, but Eddie had still been on a liquid diet. It really didn’t help matters.

Eddie made his way over, and Owens took the clipboard from him.

“We don’t need to worry about that, we’ve got you all figured out.” He said, “Although it looks like you might want this back?” He handed Eddie the notepad paper. Eddie pocketed it.

A wheelchair appeared behind Eddie, being pushed by a stern looking nurse.

[END SCENE]

I forgot that Steve was under the impression that Eddie was mad at him and should probably behave differently. Also, I thought it was hilariously on the nose to have them play hangman.

“So,” said Steve slowly, “what was the plan, then? Just so we’re on the same page about… you know, cuz we both find each other attractive here.”

“There really wasn’t one.” Said Eddie. “I’m not exactly the kind of guy that makes plans.”

Steve frowned. “Thought you planned out those games?”

“That’s different. That’s fiction.”

“So’s this.”

[END SCENE]

“You’ve got your walls up like the third little piggie, and I don’t blame you.”

Eddie snorted, surprised.

[END SCENE]

“Is trying to scare me away your current escape route?”

“Kinda.”

“Look, man.” Steve said, features softening. “If you really, actually don’t want,” he gestured back and forth between the two of them, “this, then I get it. You…” his mouth formed a frown, and Eddie broke eye contact to stare at the mug again as he braced himself.

“I can get over you, if that’s what you really want me to. It might… it might take a minute.

[END SCENE]

“You know, I always wondered why the Devil was supposed to be the bad guy.” Said Steve. In response to Eddie’s baffled expression, he continued. “Isn’t he just supposed to keep the bad people away from the good ones? It’s a pretty commendable service, if you ask me.”

[END SCENE]

“So, yeah.” Eddie waved his free hand. “And last time I tried to have, like, romance? It turned out to be shit. And I felt like, alright, that’s what I get, it’s, it’s shit. Compromise, you know? It wasn’t a good thing, but it was something.”

“But I… I don’t know. I don’t want to lose you, but I guess somewhere during all of this, this shit, you became something that I could lose. And you’re not shit. And it’s not like… it’s not like everything I lost went easy, you know? Like, the trailer, it…” He made an explosion noise with his mouth, accompanied by a hand gesture imitating a mushroom cloud.

Eddie finally met Steve’s eyes for good as he gave him a sardonic smile. “So. Now’s a good time for you to back out of, finding me magnetic or some shit.”

Steve leaned back against the driver’s side window, studying him. He had one leg up on the seat, wrist dangling casually off of his knee, his other wrist lazily hung over the steering wheel. A somber expression decorated his features.

“So, what’s the plan? Never be happy again?” Said Steve, voice gravelly but not unkind. He tilted his head to the side, eyes piercing Eddie’s like spears.

Eddie shrugged. “You know, outside of DnD, I’m not much of a plans guy. Honestly, I’ve been pretty consistently surprised every time I woke up alive for the past decade. My only plans at any given moment are to make sure there’s an escape route in sight.” He looked down at his shirt. “You think I planned on spilling my guts wearing this? There’s a hole in the armpit.”

Steve snorted. “Am I allowed to say that I still want to kiss you now?”

Eddie glared at him playfully. “Really, you horndog, I tell you all about my terrible childhood and all you can think about is getting in my pants?”

“Hey, you’re the one escalating here, for all you know I was just talking about a quick peck on the cheek.”

“Were you?”

Steve responded with a mischievous grin and raised eyebrows.

“You can continue talking about your terrible childhood if that makes you feel better.”

“No, actually, I think I’m more than done talking about it.” Eddie looked around the car. “I can tell you a little bit about my terrible adulthood, though, because the last time I was in this car I genuinely thought you were the Devil.”

“Well, the last time you were in my car, you said some pretty Devil-ish things.”

Eddie’s jacket was suddenly much too warm.

“Sorry.” Said Steve, looking bashful, “That was… that was probably a rough day for you. I shouldn’t have brought it up like that.”

“Maybe you really are the Devil.” Said Eddie, resisting the urge to fan himself like a prim victorian lady about to faint. “You’ve sure been to Hell enough.”

[END SCENE]

Guess who struggles with emotional scenes! I did like that last one, I just got a flash of inspiration that contradicted it.

The fire station was located just southeast of Hawkins. There was a lake nearby, but it was the kind of place littered with rich people and country clubs.

Figured that the rich people would plop a fire station right next to a lake. Where on earth might they find water if one of their fancy candles fell on top of their silk tablecloths?

The trailer park, on the other hand, surrounded by the woods and subject to annual heatwaves, would likely burn to a crisp by the time the

[END SCENE]

Yes I did just stop midsentence. Anyway, I relocated the station to be north of Hawkins, and there’s no lake there, according to Hop’s map from season two. I’ve actually done a lot of research on Hop’s map, because I have a sequel in mind that requires specifics on where exactly everyone is, and it’s convenient for me to place the fire station closer to Loch Nora for… reasons… (actually I found a higher definition version of the map after I published the last chapter pre-epilogue, the fire station is right in the centre of town. Oops. Too late to change it within the fic.)

I also did research on the lake that I initially placed the fire station on. It’s called Tippecanoe Lake and there are indeed country clubs there. I don’t know if they’ve been there since the 80’s, but I already cut the scene so I officially absolve myself of research.

“Steve keeps looking for you.” She said, after handing a baffled Wayne his tickets. “He’s pretending he isn’t, but he keeps on staring weird at people who have canes, so either he got really rude to disabled people all of a sudden or he’s looking for you.”

Eddie nodded, fidgeting with his own cane and smiling.

“Are you doing your side job again?” She said.

Eddie jumped. “What? No. Who said -“

“Jonathan and Argyle were gossipping about it, they want to buy from you but they don’t know if you’re selling. Why, what’s your side job?” She gave him a funny look. “I’m just trying to figure out if you can buy another twenty.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at her. “Where is Steve, exactly?”

She nodded towards the mayor, who was finally handing the microphone off to the Fire Chief. “Near the stage.” She said, referring to the small wooden platform at the front of the room.

[END SCENE]

“He’s like, the MVP of this freaking ball. They’re probably going to pull him onstage soon. And he started Project Child Endangerment 3.0.” She raised the basket pointedly.

The look Eddie and Wayne shared this time was alarmed.

“Are you in-“

“No, he’s just been forgetting that he owes me a lifetime supply of ice cream on top of what he owes me for being a saleswoman, and that’s my way of reminding him.” She gave him a falsely sweet smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have tickets to sell.”

She disappeared into the crowd, leaving Eddie and Wayne in stunned silence.

“Do you know what she’s talking about?” Asked Wayne. “Or is this like the fungus story again?”

Eddie shook his head numbly. “Three?”

[END SCENE]

In the first one, I felt like Erica probably wouldn’t capture that behaviour from Steve — it’s a little too subtle unless you were already looking for it, you know? Although I did find it cute that she didn’t understand what Eddie’s “side job” was, because as badass as she is, she’s twelve.

Also, would Steve be MVP or would he instead be mercilessly picked on for being a rookie? Apologies to my dearest Deanna who watched as I struggled with “would Erica use the term MVP or not” only to cut that line entirely. (The verdict was yes, by the way, she’s been to enough of Lucas’ basketball games that she probably would’ve picked it up if she hadn’t heard it elsewhere already.)

Eddie swallowed heavily before turning around to look Steve in the eye, and fuck.

“You clean up nice.” Said Eddie. Understatement of the century, he thought. He never thought he had a thing for men in uniform, but with Steve standing right in front of him in a fitted dark suit, Eddie had a hard time breathing all of a sudden.

Steve’s eyes drifted up and down Eddie’s body, and Eddie regretted the bell sleeves he had chosen to wear.

“I like that colour on you.” He said, to Eddie’s surprise.

[END SCENE]

Nah ,Steve should just disappear and be smug about how he just made Eddie just melt into a puddle.

Will met Eddie Munson for the first time when Eddie was hospitalized.

Mike and Will, and Robin and Steve, had both gone to visit Max independently of the other, each with books in hand, and arrived at the exact same time. Lucas, who was curled up in the lounge chair - lounge chair? - next to Max’s bed, looked up through heavy exhausted eyelids and bluntly stated that Steve and Robin could stay. When Mike began to protest, he pointed at another lounge chair, containing El, who was holding Max’s hand and concentrating.

“You’ll distract her.” Said Lucas.

Will thought that was a little unfair, because he had only met Robin a handful of times but already knew that when she started talking, it was like a woodpecker hammering on a tree, but Mike was already offering to introduce Will to the coolest guy ever just a few floors away, and, well, alright.

When they did meet this coolest guy ever, Will tried very very hard to keep his expression neutral, because quite frankly, his appearance was a little terrifying. He was skin and bones, tangled hair hanging limply off his head, and his skin was paler than the white bandages decorating his neck and arms. The only colour on him was the angry red gashes crosshatched on his cheek, and the stitches that held them together.

Eddie held his eyes wide, and he had a slightly manic grin on the undamaged half of his face as Mike and Will walked in.

“Baby Wheeler!” He cheered. “And… friend!”

An older man lounging in a chair identical to the ones in Max’s room huffed fondly. “They just doped him with something real strong.” He said, amused, not bothering to look up from his worn paperback. “Hope you didn’t come for chit-chat, his head is full o’ rocks right now.”

Eddie didn’t respond, just kept his odd grin as he eyed Will curiously.

“Hi Eddie!” Chirped Mike, almost breathlessly, in a tone of voice that was usually reserved for El. Odd. “This is Will, I’ve men-“

“Will the Wise!” Eddie raised his hands in the air,

[END SCENE]

My first few attempts at the epilogue wound up being set WAY too early, which made a wordcount impossible to manage because I kept wanting to explain everything. Also, I realized afterwards that Will probably isn’t the biggest fan of hospitals after the first two seasons. Poor fuck. However, I did want to work in that El was helping Max recover even before she woke up at first, but the poor thing would be way too busy.

Neither of the pair had partaken since they had arrived in Hawkins. Argyle said he had stashed his stash in a tree somewhere; the only thing scarier than a cop, he had said, was a cop who had just been resur-fucking-rected.

Also, he and Jonathan were staying at the Wheeler’s, and Nancy had guns.

[END SCENE]

Again, I set the epilogue way too early at first. They’ll partake eventually, this was the first few days after their arrival.

“Mm?” He gave her what the party had nicknamed his Parents Love Me smile, or PLM, pronounced plum. It was kind of obnoxious. The most obnoxious part was that it every parent fell for it.

[END SCENE]

Steve had a new version of the PLM; it was a slightly different smile where he acted strange and extra nice around Eddie, which the party was all very confused by until Argyle offered up the idea that maybe Steve didn’t know how to act around disabled people. DPLM didn’t have the same ring to it, though, so they didn’t bother to change its name. As long as they used it sparingly, it was easy to persuade him into something if they used Eddie against him.

They had yet to see the new PLM in action around Max, though. Steve visited her with his girlfriend Robin instead of with the group, but Max reported that he had a habit of cordially agreeing with whatever she said, especially if Robin wasn’t in the room, so they took that as evidence that the PLM was in full force around her, too. Max made it into a game for herself, to try and see what absurd thing she could get him to would agree to; the more tired he was, the more likely he was to politely laugh and nod when she said that demogorgons would make good pets.

[END SCENE]

The PLM was out and stronger than ever. Will, Dustin, Mike, and El exchanged excited glances.

[END SCENE]

“PLM.” Whispered Dustin pointedly, once Steve was focussed on opening more empty drawers. Eddie gave them an inquisitive look.

[END SCENE]

PLM was going to be a little recurring thing throughout the epilogue that got cut for wordcount. It was gonna eventually lead to a scene where Eddie thought the kids just really liked plums for some reason.

“My mom mom’d him.” Said Dustin, not bothering to look up from the character sheet he was filling out. He and Will had decided to make each other the most ridiculous characters they could think of, and whoever got a lower score in Pac-Man would have to play the character, voice included, in the homebrew campaign Mike was working on.

[END SCENE]

Dustin even took it upon himself to recap fake D&D sessions over the walkie talkie, in the hopes that Eddie would come back over the channel with a what the fuck, a cutlass isn’t a long-range weapon, Henderson, wherein they would have the opportunity to trap him into a conversation. But it was quite literally radio silence from Eddie. Instead, they occasionally got an irritated Steve or Robin - or, during one memorable and terrifying instance, Hopper - telling them to shut up already.

[END SCENE]

“I already promised Max I’d visit today, though.” Said Lucas.

Dustin sighed. “Yeah, okay, he’ll probably let you get away with that. He might even give you a ride to her place cuz he feels bad.”

It actually turned out that Steve wasn’t particularly happy about losing one of his promised crew unexpectedly - with all I do for you, c’mon guys - but begrudgingly gave Lucas a ride anyway. Lucas had to squish into the middle seat with Mike for the trouble.

[END SCENE]

“Did you know Steve was deaf?” Said Will, a week later, over dinner.

“He told you?” Asked Hop, as Jonathan and Argyle both exclaimed their surprise. Will’s mom made a surprised sound around her mouthful of burger.

“You knew!?”

“We’re both first responders, he told his team and mine. Paramedics know, too.” Said Hop, mouth full of food. “Seems real shy about it, I’m surprised he told you.”

“He did not.” Said El. “He was at the craft store and Robin and him were speaking with their hands.”

“You can do that without being deaf.” Said Argyle. “My cousins learned to do that so they could talk shit about our abuela. She’s kinda mean.”

“Yeah, but Robin had to yell at him to get his attention.” Said Will, as his mom gently scolded Argyle for his language.

“Then… yeah, he’s probably kind of deaf.” Said Jonathan.

“Of course he is, I just said so.” Said Hop, affronted. “He says it’s worse depending on the day, but he can usually hear pretty fine.”

Huh. Will wondered if this was why he relied on the PLM so much. Smiling and nodding could get you pretty far. Will knew this from experience.

[END SCENE]

Will was just glad that Eddie switched from teaching her ABBA after only a month - he hated the band. Instead, Jonathan and Argyle did the Thriller dance as she practiced her new music, which never failed to make her giggle.

[END SCENE]

This was the “holy crap I wrote so much and I have to cut stuff for the sake of my word count” section. I liked a lot of these concepts, though.

El was laying on the couch with her head in Max’s lap as she read a Wonder Woman comic aloud to her.

[END SCENE]

I wound up changing Max from “enthusiastic friend” to “well, she’s there” throughout the epilogue, but this line was really cute.

“I didn’t like, love camping.” Said Dustin. “Right, Will?” He gave Will a pointed look.

Later, Will would realize he was trying to subtly bring up their pact.

In the moment, though, Will shrugged. “I kinda liked it. And Max is right, Mike really liked it.”

[END SCENE]

This goes against them agreeing for Max and Will’s sake.

Eddie snorted. “You’re lucky my uncle is outta town visiting his pa. You lot would’ve been knocked into next week if you’d woken him first.”

“But he’s not, so, you’ll be a hospitable host and let us stay the night and meet your girlfriend?” Said Dustin brightly.

“I don’t think it counts as hosting when you just admitted to breaking in using a busted doorknob.”

[END SCENE]

He’s way too happy to be burgled.

“Come on!” “We don’t bite!” “It’s just us!” Cried all of their voices in protest.

Eddie just held up a single finger and said shhhh.

The continued complaning.

Eddie continued his unbroken shh. He had an impressive lung capacity.

They finally all quieted.

Eddie gave them all a smirk that really just told them that his patience was wearing thin.

“You little trespassers are lucky I’m not knocking you into next week.” He stated. “You’re real lucky that my uncle is visiting his pa, or I’d be calling the coroner right now. You are going to sleep in the spare room, you’re going to clean up your muck before I drive you home in the morning, and if I’m feeling generous, I might not tell all your parents about your life of crime.”

[END SCENE]

You ever write past midnight and realize that forget that you established that Max knows Eddie is queer? Also I keep trying to excuse Wayne’s absence.

“What do I know?” Said Steve.

“Not a lot.” Said Eddie.

[END SCENE]

He prooobably wouldn’t insult him like that, but that was just such an easy setup. I would totally roast my friends that way, and expect to be roasted that way in return.

#Amboolents Originals #Amboolents Fic

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cinnamonest · 2 years

Note

idk if this is a good request or not but this idea has been bothering me for a long time so—

i really enjoyed your last tighnari post with the fennec hybrid darling! but then i got to reading your other hybrid posts and like… the thought of Xiao with a bird hybrid darling! it would make all that nest shit more acceptable to the darling but also kind of not because isn’t it usually the female who gets to select their mate? i feel like bird hybrid darling would be a bit more annoyed about the whole thing tbh

especially if you imagine Xiao straight up divebombing her out of the sky when she tries to escape like those vulture species you mentioned

I am so glad I got several hybrid asks, they make me so happy ahhhhh

New HC: he sometimes does (this) when he sleeps

lmaooo yes that vulture thing kills me because like... it would be equivalent to going about your day, walking down the street and getting rugby tackled into the ground by some dude

The thing is he CAN divebomb birdgirl darling because that's literally what his burst is -- imagine being on the receiving end of that, but not from the height where he just jumps and comes down, but like leaping off of a high vantage point and elbow-dropping you down through the air, poor darling... imagine the fall damage.

It's on sight too, instinctive because he just sees you from a distance, and his brain registers you as a potential mate which means it's full-on aggression from that point forward. The only proper way to go about this now is to go after you, drag you back to the inn, and from there just utilize violence to keep you there. That makes perfect sense, such is the way things are done.

...You don't seem to be too inclined to agree. Granted, part of your resistance is undoubtedly because he is a complete stranger to you -- you, who were just going about your day as per normal. A city bird, you know. Plain and simple in color/pattern, very docile. The gentle type that feeds on seeds, fruit, worms, birdmeal-stuffed bird feeders in people's yards, and the occasional handful of breadcrumbs thrown by generous humans who find the sight of you fascinating. You're used to human contact (and can speak, albeit maybe not perfectly fluent), and you're very non-aggressive.

You still fight, though, squirming with all your might as some figure appears out of nowhere, slamming weight onto your back as you were taking a mere lazy, slow ascent through the sky. You manage to squirm enough to get him off the top side of you, but he still drags you all the way down almost to the ground, before, in the blink of an eye, you find yourself a short distance away, then again, and again, high-speed movements until dragging you through a window.

At first, you cry out, a high-pitched chirping cry, thinking something has grabbed you with the intent of eating you... but instead, you're pulled into a dark, tiny room, window closed and locked behind you. He's quiet, but wide-eyed. Mammalian hybrids are far more common, see, whereas bird and reptile hybrids are much less so. The odds of encountering you were very small... so it must be fate. Yes, that makes sense. It's fate that you're supposed to be here, which means he's obligated to ensure you stay here. It's sound logic, if you ask him.

He himself is actually not a hybrid, hence he has no physical traits of anything other than a person. It's... hard to explain. There's the blood and brain of a bird somewhere in there, even if it's not externally obvious. Still, he doesn't share your wings or feathers, nor your ability to fly for suspended amounts of time, nor the, uh... desire to consume worms? None of that stuff... he can bring you some though.

And yes, darling would be pickier, which adds a new problematic element to the whole dynamic. Like, you actually DO care about nest quality. You can be all "AHEM why is this not tucked in correctly??" and he's scrambling to fix all the little errors and make it absolutely perfect. The female bird's approval of the nest is critical, after all, otherwise you won't breed.

Well, that is, provided what you've pointed out is deemed valid. Different bird species build different nests, you see. There are all sorts of different shapes and structure styles. You might think that a good nest requires woven pattern structure, but that strongly goes against his instinct so you will get a layered-style nest and you are going to like it. Even worse if you try to do part of it yourself -- some species the two work together, but in some, like his, the male builds it by himself, so he rejects any help. Your way of doing it is wrong anyway. Terrible, in fact. Any work you do with be promptly deconstructed and reconstructed the right way.

Unlike a human, you also actually do have two pretty, prominent wings sticking out of your back, each adorned with many soft feathers. They're really pretty. Yours are just a plain color -- black, white, or grey. No patterns, no exotic colors... but it doesn't matter, he likes them more that way anyway. And he can take really good care of them, preening through them in spots you yourself can't reach.

Well, for now. Until it is decided upon that it is in fact plucking time, and that you need to have quite a few removed for your own good. Just the important ones.

Poor Verr has to manage the situation after you squeal particularly loudly, assure the guests nothing bad is going on... It's quite the bizarre scene to walk in on, when she comes up to check and finds you pinned to the ground, feathers strewn all over the place. You all freeze up, there's a few seconds of the two of you blinking up at her as she looks down at you with a bewildered expression. She resolves to shut the door and forget she saw anything.

You're upset for a good while. It's very sore, a constant throbbing ache. You give him a cold shoulder silent treatment, cross your arms and pout and refuse to answer him. He already said he's sorry! And even got you nice cold wet cloths to put on the plucked spots, which are now featherless and bare patches of irritated flesh. What more do you want. Why are you being so mean? He's just trying to keep you safe. Why can't you understand that?

Oh, well. You'll have to just get used to it. The more primary downside being that, with human intelligence, he starts to think that maybe, if he keeps doing it over and over again, it'll scar over and will never grow back.

#the video tho #the narrator politely pausing for each 'eeeeeeeeeeeee'#i'm gonna go back later and add all the hybrid posts to the masterlist once i finish the one I'm currently on #lena's asks #q #.birb

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shorkbrian · 4 years

Text

Cottgecore

Prelude - This is all @dearestdynamight ‘s fault okay I take no responsibility for the horny..... or do I? aha Sorry I said I’d write a drabble but it turned into a one shot whoops

Pairing - Yandere Bakugou Katsuki X Fem Reader

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, predator/prey dynamics, unsafe sex,

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/3R8PKPTPgHApBhCt3NUJ0q?si=uLON1Rw_RHaEpH2WaCfYBA (This music has a great runnin tempo/ it made me think of heartbeats skippin like outta fear so)

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“Alright-” Bakugou has you by the arm, dragging you past the threshold of the cabin he keeps you in.

You’re scared. Sometimes he lets you outside, to feel the sunshine and the nice breeze, to go for a walk down to the creek, hiding his smile as you gawk at all the pretty flowers.

But he seems... agitated today. Restless.

“-Here’s how this is gonna go.” He shoves you down the front steps, and you barely catch yourself from falling, turning to look at the blonde while he sits himself down on the top step, legs stretching out. “I’ll give you hm, five minutes - got that? You got five minutes to fuckin’ run, and then I let myself loose.”

“Wh-what?” You’re not understanding, hands anxiously twisting at each other. There’s a predatory look in Bakugou’s eyes.

“We’re gonna play tag. I’m fuckin’ bored and I wanna get a nice little workout in. Chasing your pretty little ass through the forest should be enough to get my blood pumping.” Is his simple explanation.

He’s letting you run?

You don’t dare to hope for a second that you’ll actually be able to get away, escape from the monster of a man that’s lounging on the steps in front of you.

He’s hurt you, abused you, kept you locked away from society, far enough that no one’s able to hear when you scream every time Bakugou fucks you.

“I..... I don’t want to play.” Your bottom lip quivers, but you can’t tell if you’re going to cry out of frustration or nervousness. You can’t believe that you’re nothing more than a toy to Bakugou, something he can play with when he’s bored, keep tucked away in the dark when he has better things to do.

Bakugou leans back, rests on an elbow, lets his crimson eyes rake up your form before they reach your gaze. “Yeah? You don’t wanna play? Is that cause you know you’ll fuckin’ lose? I bet you’ll cry like a little bitch when I catch you.”

There’s nothing that you want to say to him. He’s trying to egg you on, but you won’t fall for his mean tricks.

“Fucking fine.” He shifts, smug smile appearing. “Time starts now. I don’t care if you don’t run, but know that I don’t have any qualms about fuckin’ you right here after your five minutes are up.” His gaze his burning into you.

At least if you run, you won’t just be sitting here, waiting as Katsuki counts down the minutes.

You take off, down towards the creek behind the cabin, grateful that Bakugou let you keep your sneakers when he had first dragged you here, all those months ago.

They’re practically falling apart, squishing through the mud by the creek, and you almost lose your footing, scrambling to right yourself, splash across to the other side.

It doesn’t matter that your shoes are all wet now, that the bottom of your dress is dripping. Truthfully, you hate the dresses Katsuki brings home for you to wear. Hate that they’re clothes you’d love under normal circumstances, flowy dresses and cute patterns, fitting in so nicely to a cottage core aesthetic.

Branches snap underfoot as you crash through the brush, panting, focused on one thing and one thing only; getting as far away as you could, as fast as you can.

You don’t want to think about what’s going to happen when if Katsuki catches you, this twisted little game of tag he wants to play. You want to scream, this isn’t even how you play tag, he’s just using it as an excuse to hunt you down, to take pleasure out of your fear.

Moving too close to a tree had you yelping as your shoulder collided, the rough bark scratching up your skin, tearing your dress. No matter, you just needed to keep going, keep running, keep moving.

It was starting to hurt to breathe, lifting your legs was tiring, burning. You’d never been much of a runner, and being kept under lock and key at Bakugou’s cabin hadn’t exactly done wonders for your endurance.

You found yourself cursing that fact as a loud shout rang through the forest, words indiscernible. But you knew it was the blonde, could recognize raspy, manic voice that comprised the shout.

Five minutes was up.

Wheezing now, you pushed on. You briefly considered hiding, but quickly discarded that idea. Bakugou could track you, and you didn’t have enough time. You would have to worry that he’d be even rougher when if he caught you, hiding instead of running like he had wanted.

No time to rest, but you wanted to, lungs burning. You had a stitch in your side, your shoulder hurt from scraping against the tree, and your mouth was dry, throat parched.

It wasn’t long before you began to hear noises behind you, brush crashing, branches snapping, pleased laughter. You knew Bakugou was toying with you, knew that he could track you silently if he so chose. But no, he wanted you to know that he was coming, chasing you down, relentless.

It hurt to push your legs faster, muscles fatigued, cramping. Your left calf seized up, and you held in a shriek, pleading, begging your body to keep moving as you limped on, hurriedly dragging your cramping leg, refusing to stop.

“Keep on runnin’, I’ve almost fucking got you!” Bakugou crowed, and you spared a glance behind you, thankfully seeing nothing but an empty forest behind you. It meant you still had time.

But not enough time.

With a start, you realized the noises behind you had stopped, which meant that Katsuki was beginning to actually hunt, silent and ruthless.

You don’t know where he is now, nothing left to do but urge your body forward still, exhausted and terrified.

Then a weight’s pushing against your back, and you’re hitting the dirt, tackled by Bakugou, pinned down.

“I knew I’d fuckin’ get you.” He whispers to you, breath coming out in proud, ragged pants.

You whimper into the dirt, body already aching, your own breath knocked completely out of your chest because of the way the male had tackled you. You hurt all over, and now you were dirty, and Bakugou wouldn’t get off.

“Goddamn, you gave me a run for my money there. Didn’t think you’d be that fuckin’ fast, Jesus Christ.” You can tell he’s almost proud of you, proud of his ability to choose a partner.

He pushes his weight off of you, rising to his knees, and you quickly try to follow him, not fond of being splayed out on the ground underneath him.

But Bakugou doesn’t let you get far.

You’ve gathered your legs underneath you, pushing up off the ground, but the man curls a hand around your hip, the other gripping at your uninjured shoulder. You don’t even have time to draw in a breath to ask him what he was doing before he’s shoving your face back in the dirt, lifting your hips.

“Bakugou, wait!” You screeched, hands fumbling backwards as you try to grab at him, push him off you.

The man just laughs, loud and rough, shuffles closer so he can push his crotch against your ass, let you feel the sizable bulge he’s sporting. “What’s wrong princess? I won fair n’d square, now let me take my fuckin’ prize.”

A part of you knew, knew that this is how things would end. But you had wanted to believe, had hoped that it’d be different.

“Please, wait, not here-not out here.” You choked, feeling him shift the fabric of your dress up over your ass, just enough so that he could tug at the fabric of your panties, snap the edges against your skin.

“N’d why the fuck not? ‘S not like anybody’ll hear you when you start screamin’.” The reality behind his words made your stomach curl, legs trembling as Katsuki snickered.

“Look at you, shakin’ like a scared little deer.”

Your panties get tugged down to your knees, and you hear the slight squish of Bakugou gathering his saliva in his mouth seconds before you hear him spit, seconds before you feel the glob of wet land on one of your cheeks.

Fingers swipe through the mess, before trailing down to your pussy, spreading Bakugou’s spit against your folds.

He apparently isn’t satisfied with that though, because you can feel him shifting, right before he grips a cheek in each hand and spreads you wide, pulls your hips backwards at the same time so you’re angled just right.

Just right for his spit to land directly on your cunt this time.

“S-stop it, please-” You shudder, giving up on trying to push him off. It’s never worked for you in the past, and you’re tired from running, sweaty body yearning to go limp.

A finger enters you, too soon, with not enough spit to ease its way. You yelp at the burning stretch, but Bakugou snarls at you too shut up, take what he’s given’ you as he slaps your ass.

You can feel the burn of his gaze as he watches your flesh jiggle from the force of his slap.

He works fast, doesn’t have enough patience to go slow, to open you up properly for him. The mans riled up from the chase, full of adrenaline that has no where to go, and he wants to hammer away at your little body until you break. Bakugou knows he can build you back up again when you do.

It’s alarming when you feel fingers pull free, feel the hot, spongy head of a dick pressing up against your entrance. You aren’t ready, nowhere near wet enough. “Bakugou-Bakugou wait, wait! Bakug-oh!!” The scream that leaves your mouth is loud enough to startle birds, cause them to rise from their resting places in the trees.

Bakugou laughs a little at that, the sound quickly tapering off into a groan as he works his cock deeper into you, wiggling his hips from side to side so he can fully seat himself into your cunt, balls snug up against your clit.

“Yeah, go ahead and scream princess, lemme hear you.” He encourages, pulling out just an inch or two so he can slam back in, hear you sob, watch your shoulder shake. with each heaving breath.

He’s fucking you into the dirt like an animal, feral and uncontrolled, wild. You barely have the coordination to try and protect your face with your forearms, keep your sensitive skin from being scraped raw on the ground.

You can’t protect your knees though, or the places that Katsuki holds you from, his grip too tight, blunt nails pressing so deep into your flesh that they draw blood, the pressure biting.

It’s impossible to hold back your noises, tearful, fearful screams reverberating into the forest, choked off as you’re rocked back and forth by vicious thrusts.

The man moves easily, fucks you with the strength of a stallion, growling out your name, letting out throaty groans as he chases his release.

And it hurts, so much, your body battered and becoming scratched and bruised; it hurts so much. Until heat pools in your gut, Katsuki hitting a special spot inside you. It makes your toes curl in your sneakers, has the slide of his cock going just a bit easier as you get that much wetter.

“Unh, n-no-ooh, please, ah! Please, ohh, Bak-Bakug-” You can’t even finish your sentence, not with the blonde reaching around, hand creeping across your stomach, down to where his balls keep smacking against your skin so he can rub tight little circles around your clit.

“Fuck-fuck yeah princess, there we go. Feelin’ good now? Shit, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight.”

You hated his voice, hated how deep and raspy it was, how his gruff moans of pleasure made your stomach jolt with arousal.

“You tryin’ t’ milk my cock or somethin’? You want my cum that fucking bad?” The man pounding you into the dirt laughed, changing his posture so that he was curled over you, chest pressed to your back.

His hips rabbited into you, and you sobbed freely at the sensation, at his horrible fingers that wouldn’t stop drawing shapes on your little clit, making you feel hot and too close to cumming.

“No, no, no-” You whimpered, trying to hold back your orgasm, but it was too little, too late.

Bakugou’s hips stuttered as you gushed around his cock, barely managing three more full thrusts before burying himself deep, cock twitching inside of you, spurting out his warm cum.

Disgusting.

You were too tired, too spent to care how long the two of you spent on the ground, regaining your breath.

When Bakugou peeled himself away from your body, soft cock slipping easily from your warmth, you couldn’t help but cringe at the wetness that spilled against your thigh, no longer plugged in your cunt.

“That was real fucking good.”

Yeah, maybe for him.

Your panties were pulled back up, Bakugou smoothing them down before flipping your dress back into place as he rose to his feet.

He urged you up, supporting most of your weight as he easily tugged you upright. “Knew you’d be too much of a baby to walk back.” He grouched as your knees trembled, almost sending you crashing back to the ground if not for his firm arm around your waist, holding you up.

The next second, you were being lifted into the air, easily swung up into Katsuki’s arms, carried bridal style.

You felt his eyes on you, scanning over your face, your arms, your legs. Cataloging the various scratches and bruises marring your form. “You look like shit.”

You didn’t have a smart retort, just rested your head against his chest, grateful that he wasn’t making you walk, legs weak and jelly-like.

Your throat hurt from screaming.

Bakugou took you home, back to his cabin, to the cottage core life that you’d think was perfect... if only he wasn’t in it.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #dark katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere katsuki #Yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #tw.noncon

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Note

You're on a roadtrip and in the middle of nowhere, your car breaks down. Obviously your phone died too - what happens next?

This, is very interesting and my horny brain figured out what would happen next 👀👀

Walter Marshall x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.5k (yes, a lot happens)

Warnings: Fingering, squirting, unprotected sex 👀

‘Piece of shit,’ you mutter under your breath. You cannot believe this happened again and to make matters even worse, you're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Last time your car decided to break down, at least it happened downtown, meaning there were around five men who saw you hopelessly staring at your car, not knowing what to do and offered their help.

Now, you’re by yourself.

You grab your phone from the passengers seat, only to discover the most horrible thing that could ever happen to you.

Your battery died.

It’s probably around thirty minutes until you reach some sort of civilization and it’s getting darker and darker.

Oh no, is this how people get murdered?

Great, now you’re not only by yourself, but you also scared yourself by envisioning horrible scenario's. You pop the hood of the car, only to realize that everything looks the exact same and you have no idea where to start. Why do the problems have to be so complicated? If it were a flat tire, you probably would’ve managed to fix it, but this is on a whole new level of complex.

A car stops behind yours and your heart stops for a few seconds. Please don’t be a serial killer, please don’t be creepy in general. You peek around your car, only to see the very familiar truck. You’ve seen that car around in town, including the owner of it.

You watch him step out of the vehicle. His shoulders are broad, his strut is confident and his brows are furrowed, but that is nothing new. When he sees it’s you, one corner of his mouth curls up. ‘Sweetheart,’ he says and you can’t help but slightly giggle when hearing that nickname.

Detective Walter Marshall is a very well loved customer at the cafe you work at, mostly because he comes by every day and has become a reliable income. He always orders one cappuccino to go and sometimes he goes a little crazy and orders a cookie with it as well. He rarely smiles, but recently you noticed that whenever you took his orders, you not only earned yourself a very lovely 'Sweetheart', but also a small smile. Sometimes, he would even go as far to asking you what your plans were for after work and when you answered with whatever the plans were, he would simply nod and tell you to not have too much fun without him.

It was cheeky and slightly flirty, but it was always within the four walls of the cafe and nothing happened. You wished though. Walter Marshall was a very desired bachelor in town.

‘Hi detective,’ you say with a smile.

‘Car trouble?’

You nod. ‘Yes, it’s just that my car gives up from time to time.’

‘I see, I see.’ He rolls up his sleeves and stands next to you, examining everything. He starts to say something about some sort of liquid/fuel-thingy, but you have no idea what he means. Not only are you distracted because it’s too complicated, but also because of his outstanding beauty. No man in town tips to him.

Of course you fantasized about him, just like everyone else. There was quite the age gap between you, a rough fifteen years, but that never stopped you from having the most disgusting, NSFW dreams about him.

‘What?’ you ask him, when he looks at you, obviously waiting for an answer.

‘You weren’t listening,’ he chuckles. ‘That’s okay. What I said was that it’s too late to call for a tow truck and that I can’t fix it right away. We can leave your car here and I can drive you to your place if you want.'

'But what if it gets stolen?'

'How?' he asks. 'The car doesn't work, right?'

You shake your head. 'Maybe it's for the best. It's a stupid car anyway. The only reason I have it, because I got it for free.'

'Maybe that should've been a red flag. Free cars are rarely reliable.'

You scoff. Dammit, you hate it when other people are right. 'You sure you want to give me a lift?'

Walter scoffs. ‘I’m not gonna leave you in the middle of nowhere by yourself.’ He closes the hood of my car and adds to it: ‘Besides, I don’t want anything to happen to my favorite barista. You’re the only one who hasn’t messed with my cappuccino.’

You shouldn’t giggle or feel nervous, yet you do both.

‘Come on, go grab your stuff and we’ll go.’

You walk over to the driver’s side and lean over the seats to grab both the key from the ignition and your bag. Then you realize that you are wearing a pretty short skirt and your underwear is a bit on the flimsier side. You hear an approving hum from behind you. Part of you wants to die of shame, the other part however makes sure things heat up in between your thighs.

When you get out of the car and close the door, Walter has his arms crossed in front of his chest. ‘One condition, sweetheart,’ he says, taking the bag from your hand.

You frown. ‘For what?’

‘For me to give you a lift back home.’ He holds out one of his hands and says: ‘That piece of fabric you call your underwear, please.’

You blink your eyes once, twice and the universe how many times after that, mostly because you cannot believe those words—those dirty words—left his lips. His expression barely changed. It’s the emotionless look you are so used of seeing, but the words that take you by surprise.

You have had many dirty daydreams, but handing over your underwear in the middle of nowhere wasn’t one. You hook your thumbs behind the waistband of your panties and push it down your legs. When you step out of them, you hand them to Walter, who nods in approval.

The two of you walk towards the passenger’s side of his truck, when he grabs you by your hip and turns you around. With your back pressed against the door, he lets his hand slide underneath your skirt between your thighs. Your lips slightly parted, as his rough fingers knead the soft flesh of your thighs. ‘Do you have any idea how much I’ve been wanting this?’ he asks you. ‘It’s always those pretty smiles,’ he continues, ‘the way you lean over the counter in those tops with a deep neckline and how you bite your lip when you’re focused. Have you got a clue of what that does to me?’

‘No detective, I don’t,’ you whimper.

Walter smiles at your desperation, as you’re already grinding against his fingers. Fuck, he knew deep down what you could be, but this he didn’t expect. He dips in one finger, but when he discovers how wet you are, how ready you are for him, he pushes in another.

Your pleasured moan fills the emptiness around you. You’re a loud one too, Walter thinks to himself. You sure are the jackpot. His fingers brush against all the right spots. He watches your eyes rolling back, your breathing become ragged and your thighs and walls clenching together. ‘Beg for it,’ he says.

Instantly, you obey. ‘Detective, please, please, can I cum?’

There is no way you are truly real.

He barely has the change to answer, when you tumble over the edge. When you have to hold onto him since you can’t trust your own legs. When you squirt passed his fingers down your legs. The sobs and strained moans that leave your lips, make him grin in satisfaction. He roughly slams his lips against yours and within a second you melt against him.

He pulls out his fingers and without letting go of your lips for one millisecond, he opens the door of his truck. ‘They always say you are such a lovely young lady. So innocent and sweet,’ he says to you. ‘But you’ve got a dirty streak.’

You bite your lip and let out a sweet giggle when he turns you around, bending you over the passengers seat of the truck, your toes barely finding the ground. As Walter uses one hand to knead the soft flesh of your ample behind, the other unzips his pants and pulls out his cock. After pumping it a few times, he lines himself up at your throbbing cunt, before pushing himself in entirely.

The sounds that leave your lips, make him go feral. Part of him wants to take the time, worship your body and look you in the eye as you fall apart in his arms. But that part doesn’t have the upper hand now. The part that wants to destroy you, rail you, fill you is completely taking over.

There is no stopping now. Skin slapping against skin. His groans mixed with your cries of pleasure. He can feel it, your warm walls that feel so good around him, start to squeeze his hard member. ‘Detective, I’m close again,’ you wail.

‘Let it go, sweetheart,’ he tells you and on cue you start to shudder, your orgasm washing over you and that’s enough for him to reach his limits. He holds your hips tightly, probably imprinting you with some bruises, as he paints you from the inside.

He gives himself a few seconds to regain himself, before he pulls out and watches it all drip down your legs. You’re limb, barely able to stand on your legs. Your skirt is still bundled up near your waist, revealing your beautiful round bottom.

He grabs you by your arm and pulls you against his body, pressing his lips on yours. ‘You’re gonna make a mess on my seat,’ he says.

‘You’re fault,’ you mumble against his lips, only for you to earn a sharp slap on your behind. ‘Sorry, detective,’ you whisper. ‘How— Where do I sit then?’

He smiles. ‘Right on my cock as I drive you to my place, because we’re not done yet.’

✨ Okay, I'll see myself out now ✨

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall smut #walter marshall drabble

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tendousthoughts · 3 years

Text

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 2

Character(s) included: Tsukishima & Ushijima

Warning(s): Cursing

Song of the day: Love The Way You Lie by Eminem

A/N: Wow thanks for 200+ likes on my last part & 15+ reblogs! I’m almost at 150 followers so thank you for that too! I can't believe that my account is still active! Here’s part two! As always my ask box is open for comments and such! I would love to have some more Anons or even some character anons. Part three is next so if you have any haikyuu boys you want next just send a message! Please forgive any spelling and grammatical errors!

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Tag(s): @chibiiichann

Tsukishima

So the argument was your fault. The ‘harmless’ joke made its way to be more effective than you imagined. So maybe it wasn’t as funny as you thought to pour water on his head as soon as he got through the door. But it wasn’t your fault for not knowing he was having a tough day already.

“Baby.. please.. kei, I am sorry..” you whispered softly as you followed him in. You could tell he was angry. After all he just wanted to rest and now you just fucked everything up. “Kei.. please.” He turned to you.

“What?” He was drenched and tried to not let his attitude show. He just wanted to take a shower and go to bed.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.. it was just supposed to be a harmless prank..” you muttered softly now avoiding his eyes. They felt like they were burning holes into you.

“Oh wow so funny!” He looked at you. Now making eye contact you can feel the hints of venom in his voice. “It’s so fucking funny. You know sometimes I wonder if I ever did the shit you do to me back to you how would you react? I mean after all it’s just a fucking harmless prank! Do you ever just fucking think for a moment, ‘fuck maybe that’s not a good idea?’ Or no? I mean is you brain so fucking small and your so fucking dumb to the point you don’t have a good thought in there?!” His voice was loud, deep, and annoyed. You could almost see the hatred seeping from each word. You looked to the ground and took his hurtful and harmful words.

It was your fault after all.

After a moment he looked down at you, getting out everything he needed to say, well almost everything. “It fucking sucks to put up with you sometimes. I hope you know your fucking lucky.” There he went, finally finishing his bitter words. He left slamming the door behind him as he started the shower. The warm tears that you had been holding in now finally making their way out.

After grabbing a jacket, phone, wallet, and keys you leave. Feeling terrible that he had to put up with you. Locking the door as you left you decided to take a walk. It was cold and dark. It was a terrible idea to have, but there wasn’t much more that you could do.

After he finished his shower he got out looking for you. He had sorta realized the weight of his words. He knew he went too far.

After about five minutes he realized you were nowhere in sight. He changed and grabbed his phone. “Pick up..” he muttered, calling you. It was too cold for you to be out, let alone it was too dark.

You looked down at your phone and just ignored the call, scared to be yelled at again. It was freezing, now coming to the realization that you should have brought a bigger jacket. You head to a nearby ramen place to eat.

On his side he is freaking the fuck out. “Fuck fuck..” he muttered softly. He tried calling you again and to his surprise you picked up. “Y/n where are you?” He seems upset.

“Don’t worry about it.. just get some rest okay? Night.” You’re almost about to hang up where he starts talking again. He is frantic and you can tell he is extremely worried.

“Y/n please. It’s dark and cold and I don’t want you getting lost or anything worse please..” he mumbled softly. He is trying not to seem overbearing.

“I’ll be okay. Goodnight.” You hang up. Not to your surprise he calls you about five times as you order something to go for the both of you. After about twenty minutes you start to walk back. It’s pitch black and freezing. You put the bag on your arm and zip up your thin jacket. Now holding onto your phone on flashlight with one hand and with the other the soup trying to keep warm. It takes you another fifteen minutes to arrive and you open the door.

Tsukishima was waiting by the door. It was quite late so you bit your lip and closed the door after. In that time Tsukishima’s arms are already tightly around you. His eyes were red and puffy and it was clear he had been crying.

“I told you to get some rest, Kei..” you whispered softly, unsure why he was up. Kinda glad that the ramen did go to waste though.

“I am sorry.. I’m sorry.. I’m sorry..” he started to cry again holding you tight. You were cold to the touch and to be honest if it weren’t for what he said earlier you would probably be really enjoying this.

“It’s okay.. I got some dinner..” you whisper breaking away from his grasp as you sit at the table him following after. He wiped away the tears sitting in front of you. He felt like shit. As you place the food in front of him he gives a weak thank you, which you just shake your head to and start eating.

After dinner you get up putting your dishes away. Getting ready for bed after. As you finish brushing your teeth and changing. You are met with his long warm arms around you once again. He missed you all day, and didn’t want you to be distant any longer. “I’m sorry y/n..” he whispered softly, tears rolling down his face.

“It’s okay kei.. don’t worry I know you didn’t, it was my fault anyway..” you muttered softly. “I’m sorry baby..” you wipe away his tears. “I didn’t mean to worry you okay..?” He just holds on tighter and shakes his head gently, picking you up. He decides to carry you to the room you two share. As he holds you, you whisper nothing but sweet words of love, trying to comfort him.

When he lays down you gently hold him. He clears his throat ready to apologize more. “Y/n.. I really didn’t mean any of that okay..? I really love you so much and I’m the lucky one. You’re so considerate and shit and you were just trying to play a prank but I had a really shitty day and just didn’t react well.. I’m sorry..” he whispered softly. His head is buried into the crevice between your shoulder and head. It was clear he was upset.

“Baby it’s okay.. don’t worry I know you didn't mean too.. it was my fault.." you whisper softly. His arms tighten around you holding you close. "I should have known it wasn't a good idea and just didn’t do it. Instead I decided to do it and then leave.. making you worried and stuff.. So I'm sorry.." you whispered softly.

He just shakes his head and smiles softly. "Okay.. I love you Y/n," he muttered softly as he closed his eyes. Quite tired from such a stressful day.

"I love you too Kei," you muttered back, staying up until you’re sure he is peacefully asleep. When you are sure, you drift to sleep. You are safe here. You are safe in his arms, being loved by him. This is where you are meant to be, forever.

Ushijima

Practice was shit. He missed almost everything that came his way, and to be honest it was getting to him. He was quite pissed seeing you with some other guy. No matter what or who they were, they weren’t him. That’s all that mattered. You were laughing and smiling with them and he was upset. So of course he would be off his game. Who wouldn’t? You were the person everyone wanted. Ushijima was lucky to be your boyfriend let alone even talk to you.

But the same could be said about Ushijima. He was known everywhere and you got jealous too at times. I mean who wouldn’t when he got gifts every time he entered a match. He barely talked to you then too, because he thought you would be too ‘distracting.’ So in the end you normally would sit in the back and chat with a few people but tried to stay focused. Today was different. It was a practice not a game. So you didn’t mind not paying attention.

Once practice ended you were met with Ushijima’s tall form in front of you. “Oh hey baby,” you smiled getting up. He doesn’t look too happy and gives the guy a stare that makes him almost immediately leave.

“Who’s he?,” he looked down at you again. You’re shorter than him but to be honest he loves it. He loves the fact that he can tease you with kisses or the fact he can pick you up.

“I just met him. He is pretty cool, turns out he was in one of my old classes.” You smile a bit.

“Oh. Okay let’s go.” He muttered softly. Now expecting a kiss on the head before you two leave you wait. It takes a moment before you realize you’re not getting one so you just follow after him.

“How was practice..” you ask when you guys get in the car. It was quiet and you didn’t like that. It was too quiet.

“You would have known if you were watching.” He was brief and quick with his answers. “It went bad.”

You shake your head softly and when you guys get back into the house it’s no better. Now deciding to break the silence once more. “What’s wrong baby..” you look at him. Something’s off. Completely off.

He looks to you maybe for the first time, in what.? Half an hour an hour of being in the same car. Whatever it was it didn’t matter, it was too long.

“I don’t know why you have to come to my practices and just distract me the whole time.” He doesn’t think about what to say before he does.

“What..? I didn’t run up to you like usual and I stayed in the back like you like! What do you mean ‘distract’ you?” You look at him confused.

“Maybe you shouldn’t come then. It seems like everywhere you have to just be in my way. Let alone you just bring people with you.” He looks annoyed and maybe you should just drop it. But you can’t. You did nothing wrong.

“What? I stayed out of your fucking way! I didn’t ask to come. You asked me too! It’s not like I begged you to come and then was up in your face the whole time. Like your so-called fans! They were up in your face the whole fucking time trying to give you gifts and shit! But ya I’m the distracting one!” You looked annoyed. Upset. Pissed off. Whatever you wanna call it.

“Really? Really? We wanna go there now? It’s not like every fucking time we walk the halls together someone doesn’t come up to say hello to you! Or asks if your fucking free, I mean it’s not like your with me or anything.” You can tell he is mad. But it isn’t your fault.

“Yes really! You have fucking people wait by the gates of the school for you. I mean that’s what I get for dating you right? I get a bunch of girls following my boyfriend, I get called a distraction when I come up to you and get called a distraction when I’m away from you. I don’t know what to fucking do at this point!” You can feel yourself tear up. This is fucked up.

“Wow. Of course. All my fucking fault. Mhm just blame it all on me. You know what fuck you, and fuck your high horse.” He slams the shared room’s door closed. You don’t say anything, deciding to just leave. You grab your stuff and close the door. It’s a bit chilly and you’re glad you grabbed a jacket. It wasn’t weird for you two to fight let alone get on each other’s nerves. But when it’s going good, it’s going great.

You leave heading to a friend’s house and stay the night. Unsure how you fucking feel at this point. What the fuck was up with him? You just tried to stay in your fucking lane. It hurts. It fucking hurts to be called a distraction. Maybe he didn’t get that. But you knew he did. He wasn’t that dumb. He wasn’t that fucking dense like everyone else thought. You knew he wasn’t. That was one of his worst insecurities and you knew it.

The next day you were dropped off at school and we’re surprised to see Ushijima waiting. You bit your lips walking right past him. You could see the hurt in his eyes. He had eye bags and his eyes were red and swollen. He seemed like he had been crying, you felt bad. But at the same time you didn’t. You needed him to understand how much you were hurt by his words.

When lunch came around he was waiting at the door of your classroom and you bit your lip. “Do you need something?” You ask. It took him a moment before he shook his head.

“Can we please talk.. I’m sorry..” he muttered softly. He was clearly still upset by yesterday’s fight and so were you.

“Okay. It’s fine I’m sorry too,” you look up now, his big arms were wrapped tightly around you. He sniffled softly as he was already tearing up again.

“I didn’t mean any of that.. you’re not a distraction and I love you so much baby..” he whispered softly. “I was just jealous and shit..” he muttered softly. “I don’t like it when you hang out with others and stuff and I know it’s not fair.. I just get worried you will like them more and just leave..” he whispered softly finally opening up.

“Hey look at me..” you whisper gently, taking your hands and wrapping them around his cheeks. “I won’t do that to you.. I love you so much, okay?” He shakes his head.

“I love you too y/n..” he muttered softly. He was tired and you could tell. Once you reached the cafeteria you sat next to him and he laid his head on your shoulder.

A soft laugh made its way out as you held him. God you love him. Nothing could ever change that. No matter any fight. You loved him and he loved you. That’s all that would ever matter.

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loki-hargreeves · 4 years

Text

Loki x Reader - Welcome Home to Westview

Warnings: WANDAVISION SPOILERS, mentions of death, angst and fluff Word Count: 2,8K Summary: You join Wanda when she drives to Westview. Next thing you know, you’re reunited with Loki who you lost years ago because of Thanos. He’s there to welcome you home 1950s style and make up for lost time. Author’s Note: This was requested and I absolutely loved this idea. I hope you like it! <3

YOUR POV

When everyone came back, it had been a miracle. Everyone who had vanished during the blip. Everyone who had vanished when Thanos had singlehandedly taken away half of all life. Most people were happy to have their loved ones back. Most people got someone back.

But that wasn’t your case, nor was it for Wanda. She came back into a world without Vision, you had to keep living without Loki. You always knew that he had died differently. Thanos had killed him and you had witnessed it. You should’ve known just how real it was, that he was gone. Seeing it should’ve been proof enough in order for you to move on and let go. Yet somehow, when the portals opened you had dared to feel hope. Deep down, you had hoped he too would’ve walked out of the golden gates with everyone else, but you had been wrong.

He had never come back.

You and Wanda had grown close during your time as Avengers. Recently, the two of you had grown even closer because of your shared grief. The two of you understood one another deeply and it connected you.

That’s why you had joined Wanda today. She was headed to SWORD headquarters where they were keeping Vision’s body. Everything about it was unsettling and you too felt angry about it. Something about SWORD was fishy and you didn’t trust their motives at all, neither did Wanda. All she wanted was to have a funeral for the man she loved.

You had agreed to wait in the car as she walked inside, but you kept glancing at the entry just in case you would have to walk in to support your friend. Time passed and eventually Wanda returned to the car alone. Even before she sat down, you could tell things hadn’t gone too well. She slammed the door shut and put her hands on the steering wheel tightly.

“Are you okay?” You were concerned for her well-being.

Wanda didn’t reply immediately. Her eyes scanned the parking lot and then she looked at the papers she kept in the backseat. For a while, she seemed to be deep in thought and you decided not to push her. Eventually, Wanda faced you.

“There’s something I need to do,” She stated mysteriously.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Wanda sounded sure of herself, “I would like it if you came with me, if that’s okay.”

Usually, Wanda handled things on her own. She would push others away and never ask for help. But this seemed different. She was willing to accept your support, and you were more than happy to be there for her; no matter what.

“Okay, I’m right here for you, Wanda.”

Despite how frustrated and upset Wanda felt, she managed to smile. It was nice to have you by her side during such difficult times.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The car ride was long, but it didn’t feel like it. Wanda and you weren’t talking and the car radio filled the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, yet you could tell that something had gone terribly wrong. Once Wanda was ready to talk about it, you would be there for her. For now, your presence was more than enough.

Since you didn’t talk, you tried to focus on the songs on the radio to distract yourself from your own, deep thoughts. Sometimes, they would get the best of you and right now, you wanted to stay tuned in the moment, not in the past.

Eventually, you drove past a sign that said Welcome to Westview. It was a small town, but nice nonetheless. It looked old. Buildings were worn and the streets looked like they had been used for decades. The town had a lot of family-friendly places and small shops. You saw an old lady drinking coffee by herself and a man putting up flyers. No one seemed to pay too much attention to you as Wanda drove by everything slowly. You noticed that Wanda was eyeing the street names closely. Was she searching for something?

It didn’t take too long until Wanda took a turn to a street called Sherwood drive and slowed down the car, eventually coming to a stop. You noticed the foundation of a house that had once been there. The neighborhood around you was full of family homes and it had a very warm and cozy energy. As nice as your surroundings were, Wanda looked like she wanted to cry.

“Can you stay here? I need to do something on my own,” Wanda finally broke the silence. How long had you been in silence? You weren’t sure.

“Yeah. Just let me know if you need me, okay?” You wanted to reassure her of your support.

Wanda just nodded and reached to the backseat to grab a paper. With one last glance at you, she got out of the car and closed the door. You sat comfortably on your seat and turned the radio on a little louder as she walked away. The song that was playing was familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your tongue on the name of it. The lyrics were beautiful and you found yourself relaxing to the melody.

“... If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do, is to save everyday 'til eternity passes away just to spend it with you ...”

Naturally, you were worried about her. Wanda hadn’t spoken about what happened when she tried to recover Vision’s body. Clearly, things hadn’t gone too well. Had she even been allowed to see him?

As you sat there, you wondered how you would’ve felt if you had been in her shoes, if someone had Loki’s body and they wouldn’t let you have a funeral for him. Immediately, your gut twisted in disgust and pain. It seemed like a nightmare.

For all that you knew, Loki was somewhere in space, in the middle of nowhere, all alone. When the Guardians had heard the distress signal, they had only found you and Thor. Loki was nowhere to be seen. All the debris from the spaceship had made it nearly impossible to see and navigate through it all.

It had been years but it still hurt. Knowing he was left alone broke your heart, as if seeing him die hadn’t been soul crushing enough. You knew you would never get over losing Loki. He was and always would be the love of your life. Even if he wasn’t there, you always kept him in your heart. You were sure your very souls were connected. The love you had was just that deep.

Curiously, you looked out of the car window just to keep an eye on Wanda. She was standing in the middle of the ruins with the paper in her trembling hands. You couldn’t see what it said, but you knew it was important because once she looked at it, she broke down into tears. The sight of her there, all alone in so much pain was awful. For so long, she had been strong and kept on a tough face, but she had reached her breaking point. All the pain, the anger, the misery, it had gotten the best of her. You knew exactly how it felt and your first instinct was to get out of the car and go there to comfort her. How could you just sit there when she was sobbing on the cold hard ground all by herself?

When you got out of the car and looked at Wanda again, she was standing. Her powers were growing around her and a bright red light made you squint your eyes. What on earth was going on?

“Wanda?” You called out for her worriedly, unsure whether she could hear you from so far away. Her powers grew stronger at an alarming rate. You could feel just how strong the magic was and goosebumps rose on your skin. Something was terribly wrong and you knew things were getting out of hand. Despite how dangerous it was to approach something so chaotic and powerful, you tried to reach her. You never did.

Wanda’s powers were explosive. In the blink of an eye, her magic poured all around her and covered everything and everyone in sight. You remembered seeing that signature scarlet shade all around you and then everything went blank. It all happened so fast that you didn’t even have time to be scared, nor to use your powers to shield yourself from hers. The red swallowed you completely with no warning.

‘

What happened?

How did I get here?

You stood in front of Wanda and Vision’s house. Despite not remembering anything at all, you just knew that it was where she lived. Why were you just standing on her lawn? That was odd. You couldn’t remember getting there, but strangely enough, it didn’t bother you too much. You must’ve just taken a stroll and ended up at your best friend’s house. As strange as it was, you didn’t think twice about it.

With a smile on your face, you straightened the skirt of your silky dress and looked at your heels to see that they were dirt-free and shiny. After all, your outfit was brand new and you didn’t want to get the dirty right away, now did you?

“You look more beautiful than I remembered,” A familiar voice caught your attention. Your eyes widened as you stood there, now in shock. It had been too long since you had last heard that voice.

“Do you not recognize me? Has it been that long?” Loki walked closer to you from behind.

You turned around because you had to see him to make sure you had heard right. When you saw him standing there, you felt overjoyed.

Loki was alive!

“Oh my god,” You could hardly believe your eyes.

Loki opened his arms wide, inviting you to a hug. Once the initial shock passed, you ran into his strong and loving arms. Loki embraced you just like you remembered he had done before. His oh-so-familiar scent filled your lungs and you were drunk on him in an instant. Tears stung your eyes and you closed them, allowing yourself to sink into his touch and be fully enveloped by him once again.

“I missed you so much,” You admitted and felt a warm tear rolling down your cheek, ruining your makeup but you didn’t care at all. Loki had seen you, all of you. With him, you could be completely vulnerable.

Loki planted a kiss at the top of your head, then your forehead and the tip of your nose. His soft hands cupped your cheeks and you opened your eyes just to face him. His eyes were mesmerizing and dangerous. With just one glance, you were lost.

“I missed you too,” Loki let you know sincerely. You didn’t know where he had been, or why you had been separated. All you knew was that it had been years and now you were together again. That was all that mattered and you refused to think about the logic of it all. It felt like you could hope again. You could be happy.

A gentle breeze played with your skirt and with your hair. Loki looked like a god as he stood there in his black suit and tie, with his long dark locks swaying in the wind. Your heart was so full of love again and you felt happy, so happy that you kissed him.

Your lips collided sweetly and Loki kissed you back with such fiery passion that you felt as if your soul was on fire. The kiss was so romantic that you knew if a crowd would’ve been watching, they would’ve aww-ed. It would’ve brought people to tears.

Eventually, you had to break the kiss so you could breathe. Once you did, both of you smiled like never before. Loki couldn’t let go of you and you didn’t want to let go of him either.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” Loki proposed happily.

Home.

The word made your heart swell with affection.

“I’d love that,” You admitted, your mind already thinking about all the possibilities. You shared a home and you could spend the rest of your lives there together. You could have your own little family. Nothing could come between you ever again.

Loki offered you his arm for you to hold onto, which you gladly did. Together you turned away from Wanda and Vision’s home and began to walk to your own home. Somehow, you knew exactly where to go, like you had walked that path a million times before.

The walk was so relaxing. You and Loki held onto each other so comfortably and watched your neighbours, greeting them as you passed by. Everything seemed so peaceful; perfect. It was exactly where you wanted to be for all the rest of your days.

“So where were you all this time?” You asked Loki curiously. After all, he had been gone for a while now. As you tried to think about it, you felt distracted by his touch and just the sight of him. It was almost like something didn’t want you to poke your brain with a stick, so you tried not to get yourself puzzled.

Loki raised his eyebrows and hummed by himself, as if he had to really think about it in order to remember, “It’s a long story, my love. One I’ll tell you all about once we’re home. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like a great dinner topic,” You hinted at him. Dining together was always the highlight of your day.

It didn’t take long to walk from Wanda’s house to yours. After all, you lived on the same street. Your home was beautiful. It was spacious, so you and Loki wouldn’t outgrow it anytime soon.

Loki let go of you and he rushed to open the front door to you. “Ladies first,” He smirked to you and then looked inside.

“You’re such a gentleman,” You couldn’t help but to feel appreciated. Loki treated you like a queen, he always had. Then you walked inside.

Your eyes adjusted from the brightness outside to the dim lights inside. Loki closed the door and then you were both home. The place reflected the two of you so well, in every little detail. Someone had lit the fireplace when you were gone and you assumed it was Loki’s doing. Now that you were behind closed doors, you could use your powers without being seen.

“Did you-” Your sentence was cut short as you turned to face Loki again. He was standing behind you with a dozen roses and a box of chocolates. The sweet gesture took you by surprise and you forgot what you were going to ask.

“I know it isn’t much, but I want to make up for the time we lost. I hope this is the right path to your heart again, my love,” Loki explained as he handed the gifts to you, which you gladly accepted.

“Oh Loki, thank you,” You were moved by the gesture. “But I need you to know you’ve always been in my heart, and you always will be.”

Loki seemed relieved to hear those words, “as will you be in mine.”

Ding!

“What was that?” You were surprised by the sound that came from the kitchen.

Loki grabbed your empty hand and placed a soft kiss on your skin, “I do believe you mentioned something about dinner.”

Yet another surprise.

“When did you do that?” You were impressed by it all. He had really gone out of his way to make this day lovely - and you certainly weren’t complaining.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Loki replied with a grin and began to lead to you the dining room. You shouldn’t have expected any less from your husband.

“How very sneaky of you,” You rolled your eyes playfully. That’s when you noticed the lovely aroma in the air. Dinner smelled lovely and you hadn’t even seen it yet. Had he made your favourite?

Loki pulled a chair back for you to sit on. As you sat down, the plates, the food and all that appeared on the table out of nowhere just like magic. Yet another trick, one that was very useful too.

Your eyes followed Loki as he walked around the table and sat down opposite of you. Just then, the setting sun shone through the curtains. It brightened up the room beautifully and highlighted every beautiful aspect of Loki, especially his eyes. The sun was shining on you and dinner was ready.

“One more thing,” Loki remembered and quickly snapped his fingers, lighting the candles to set the mood, “now everything is perfect.”

He was right. Finally, the two of you were together under the roof of your home. What else could you have ever wished for?

“Perfect indeed.”

A/N: I hope you liked it! If you did, I would love to hear your feedback 🥺 I loved this concept so much that I want to write more, but for now I’ll keep this one short.

Forever Taglist: @iraniq @embrycallsgirl @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @your-pixels-are-showing @disasterren @iamsuperjenna @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @optimisticpeacecollector5 @thehumanistsdiary @your-pixels-are-showing @klanceiscannon14

Loki taglist: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02 @myraiswack

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki fanfiction #WandaVision #WandaVision Spoilers #Loki angst #Loki fluff #Loki/Y/N #Loki/You #Loki/Reader #Loki oneshot #marvel fanfiction

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Hi love, I adore your writing so much! And as you just asked for some ideas/concepts here’s mine for Jack Grealish from prompts list 2: fluff #11 where he’s asking her (she’s his best friend) to go for a walk cause there’s so much going on in his life and he just needs to talk. fluff #36, angst #31 and a happy ending please? Basically a Best friends to lovers thing as I’m a sap for that…thank you!! xx

Fluff #11; “I know it’s 2 in the morning but do you want to…”

Fluff #36; “because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”

hope I did this justice for you!

Fell for you

“Jesus god,” you grumbled with hands aimlessly palming across the mattress for the blaring sound of your phone from its place charging somewhere on the bed. Your next move is an elongated “Ahhhhh,” sound, fatigue still holding tightly onto your body in a way that seals your eyes shut even as you try to shut off the sound your phone was deafening your with. In a wakened state, you might’ve noticed that it was your ringtone that had interrupted your sleep. However as tired as you were you ruled it as your alarm right away and moved yourself into seated position with the duvet still wrapped tight around you and your eyes still shut.

You were suspended in that space between being asleep and being awake, still sitting up when the offensive sound came screaming through your phone once again.

This time, your eyes snapped open in fright and the fatigue-blurred letters of Jack Grealish’s name popped up across the top of your screen.

“How is it morning already?” You protest down the line, a heavy sigh passing your lips to follow. Jack’s chuckle can be heard through the line, “It’s not.” He replies simply, prompting you to pull your phone away from your ear to hold out in front if your face.

02:17am

“Then why on earth am I up?” You mumble, a question more posed to yourself than the man on the other end. “Wait, why are you up? And why are you calling so early?”

“I’m outside your door.”

“You’re what?!” You throw back your duvet and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You’ve hung up the phone already by the time you reach the front door at a tired shuffle. His hair is tousled when you see him, like he’s been running his hands through it over and over, you imagine that he has. He does that when he’s stressed. You have to squint against the street lights and his car headlights outside, still on as it sits running on the street. “Can we go somewhere?” He asks, his voice as desperate as his eyes look when he speaks, begging you to agree. Not that he would need to beg. You’d do anything for that man. Even if it did mean dragging yourself from your bed at 2 in the morning.

“Course.”

No question, no pressure. He loves that from you. He knows you’ll ask him later and when the time is right you’ll force him to tell you of course. Now is not that time yet and you’re nowhere near awake enough to do so much anyway. “Let me just grab my-“

“I have a hoodie in the car and your shoes in my boot.” He cuts in, tugging your arm gently out the door of your house. He knows you better than any other person in this world, so he knows full and well that there’s not much you are going to do in the way of protesting when you’re so soon out of sleep. He’d often teased with layers of worry deeper beneath that he genuinely worried for you living on your own. You open the door to people far too easily, and he will not fail to bring that up sometime tomorrow. For now, he steps into your doorway where you had stood moments before, grabs your keys from the cabinet and pulls the door closed behind him with a click of the latch locking behind him.

The cold paving stones beneath your feet make you shine in protest, shifting your weight between each one to ease the chill. In was in that cold that you look down and make the realisation, or rather come to remember the fact that you don’t have any pyjama bottoms on. “Jack!” You yelp, “I’m not wearing trousers!” You suddenly feel very exposed and rightly so, standing outside your home suddenly very awake in only a long claret and blue shirt that only extended down to the middle of your thighs. “Eh?” He whips around, “You what?”

It’s only now he really takes you in with rosy cheeks from embarrassment, your hair messed up from your sleep. His frantic eyes soften and his heart stops thundering in his chest finally. The sight of you there calms him. You’re there. Right there. His (y/n) is right there in front of him.

“What’s the rush, Jack? Is everything okay?”

Your gentle words and tired eyes bring him back to the ground, the flurry of his racing thoughts only now finally calmed. He often acts on impulse, but you are always able to slow his brain down a few paces. His sits heavily, "I know it's two am but...do you think we could go somewhere. My heads fuckin'... I don't even know." He dips back down to run that hand through his hair once again. His words stoke a bit of a worry in you, head tilted to the side in question. Jack doesn't tend to be the kind who gets himself panicked and all wound up like he has right now. That's more your half of the friendship. You did the worrying, he did the easygoing.

"It's okay, Jack. Of course. Come on then, let's go." You nod your head and he goes around the back of the car to get the shoes and socks he promised you. You very nearly choked up a lung when he presented you with a brand new Balenciaga box. "What the fuck, Jack?" You all but wheeze out, head whipping towards him climbing into the passenger seat.

"Got you a present 'cause I'm leaving soon." He shrugs with a jaw-dropping ease. You list open the lid and inside sit a pair of sliders that cost nearly £400. You physically gawp. "Oh my god."

"What?" Jack asks, drawing out of his parking spot on the street, "Heard you telling your mum you needed new sliders for the summer, do you not like 'em?"

His nerves would be clear in his voice if you hadn't been in such a ferocious level of shock. You're glad you weren't eating anything because it surely would have choked you to death. Of course you had seen Jack wearing brands like Balenciaga, Gucci, Versace and the likes, but you had never owned such an expensive piece of clothing. "I mean of course I love them, J but I meant from Primark or bloody amazon, you shouldn't have spent al that money on me." You protested, but Jack really pays it no mind. In fact, the suggestion that you don't deserve everything luxurious that this world has to offer offends him more than it does anything else. You should know that you deserve everything good that this world can give and he has the means to actually give that to you. He'd count himself an absolute fool not to.

"Gonna pretend you didn't say that." He mutters, eyes kept carefully on the empty road ahead of his car. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a part of you brain still very much trying to a) wake up and b) process the expensive of the gift he handed to you so casually. "Not arguing about it either." His voice cuts you off the second you open your mouth to speak, shutting down your protest before it even leaves you.

As the fatigue of your sleep wears off, your mind continues to be just as boggled as it had been the moment his name popped up on your screen at 2am, if not more boggled now.

"You're acting so weird, Jack. What the hell is going on with you today?" Your insistence is careful with your pressure. It's enough to try to open him up but not enough to make it sound like a confrontation. Neither you nor Jack like confrontation especially with each other. The words make him chew on his lip as he careens the large white range rover through a turn that leads up a gravel road that crunches beneath his tires. The stops when he's met with a with a large gate that prevents cars but a little slot for people to walk through. Jack leaves his door open when he leaves the car with a curtly mumbled "Stay here" as he does. He pushes open the gate with ease before he gets back in the car and follows the path up the hill further.

He stop abruptly in a very small gravel car park without any parking lines to abide and steps out, slamming his door behind him like he absolutely always does; you swear that man couldn't be quiet if his life depended on it. Which was another reason why you were so surprised by his silence. You clamber out after him with that same fear of falling flat on your face that always fills your mind each and every time you leave his car. But Jack is where he has been every time you step out the Range Rover since the first day he got it; standing by your door to hold your hand so you can jump out without a trip onto the gravel beneath. He shuts the door behind you and hands you a spare pair of his loose fitting track pants.

On an average day you might've teased the reason he hasn't worn them was because they wouldn't have squeezed the life out his legs. Today wasn't one of those days, so you slip them on without a word. Followed up by his way too big for you socks and the brand new black slides. Even wide awake, this confuses you to no end. Jack was never quiet and never elusive. He was boisterous, loud, open and confident.

The second you turn around, you realise why he brought you here.

The view of the stars, the sky completely clear. There wasn't a street lamp in sight. The moon provided the kind of spotlight hue that you kind of thought only existed in the enhancement of Hollywood movies. "Woah," you breathe, words stolen by its beauty.

"Yeah," Jack laughs, "Now you know how I feel every time I look at you."

You head turns to him so fast it sends your head spinning a little, or maybe that's just the shock of his words. You couldn't tell.

"What?"

He shrugs his shoulders, scuffing his feet along the gravel to meet up with where you stand. But he freezes before he gets the chance.

"Why are you wearing that?" He asks, a very sudden cold change in his tone that actually makes your body feel colder. "Wearing what? This?" You gesture to the claret and blue shirt you had thrown on in a haste to get to him standing at your front door a short while ago. You turn to see his unhappy scowl and the firm discontented cross of his strong arms. "Yeah that," he grumbles, "And where'd you even get it." He adds with a flare of his nostrils. He looks adorable angry like this, like he's trying so hard to look angry when his emotions lie truly elsewhere.

You look down at the shirt with furrowed brows, before you shift your shoulder forward, crane your neck and pull the material around to view the back as best you could. "What's wrong with it?" You ask finally, attempts to defy the natural state of your body failing to allow you to see your back.

"It's Ginny's." Jack states as if its the most obvious thing in the world. You just look at him bewildered. "And?"

He huffs as he takes a few more heavy steps up to you, looking like he had a lot of things to say without any way of being able to get them to coordinate from his brain to his lips. "Why do you have Ginny's shirt though?"

You breathe a little bit of laughter at him, shaking your head softly. "it was just a joke. I saw him after a match waiting for you so I jumped out at him and pretended to be a fan for a video and he signed it and gave to me as a joke. I just threw it on when you showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Wasn't exactly a fashion statement."

Jack still grunts in dissatisfaction at your answer, refusing to meet your eyes. "You have plenty of mine to wear though, don't need his." His argues in a disgruntled grumble. You raise and drop your arms down by your side with a sigh. He was really testing your patience now. "Hm, last time I checked you couldn't give me yours anymore because your ex didn't like it." You protest with a wag of your finger, making him turn his head downwards with something like a shudder running through him at the mention of her name. "Yeah well there's a reason she's my ex innit." He mutters under his breath.

"What the hell is the problem with you today Jack?" You exclaim, his eyes jolting to you in surprise. You don't often snap.

"First you show up at my door in the middle of the night and drag me out of my house and then you won't actually speak to me and now you're picking a fight about John M fucking Ginn?" You snap, the anger and confusion he had stirred up showing in your emphatic hand gestures that only come out when you're telling him a passionate story or going off your head at him. "He's your best mate, why would that even bother you?!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I'm not done, Jack!" You yell, holding out a hand. "You haven't even spoken to me all week. I found out you made the England call up on fucking twitter Jack, twitter! And your mum told me about you dumping your girl and I can't even get through to you and now you're buying me gifts and bringing me here? I don't know if I'm coming or going here Jack, you have to give me something. We're meant to be friends." You voice breaks on the last syllable and a lump forms in Jack's throat that he can't just swallow away. Any pain, any hurt and any slight sadness of emotion that appears in you shatters his heart. He thought that was a normal reaction until two weeks ago when he realised it only happens to him when its your upset he witnesses.

"I'm sorry." He says, his voice thick and wavering with the same level of emotion. "I really, really am." He stands right in front of you now, so close you're basically chest to chest, faces merely inches apart.

"And I'm scared." He admits, sending a pang through your already aching heart. "Scared because I'm leaving and I can't take you with me." His words tickle your lips as they leave his, clouds of air puffing above the two of you as his hot breath meets the cold night air. "You've done it before, J. It'll be fine." You soothe, hands gently raising to reach up and brush the hair out of his face. His let's forth a content sigh of relief at the feeling of your touch. "That was before though." He confesses with a slight shrug. He watches that furrow sow itself back into your brows.

"Before what?"

"Dance with me?" He suggests, his arms finding their way around you with ease, much less fumbley than you remember from your high school prom. Your head tilts in that adorable confused way that makes a grin form on his cold lips.

"Why?" You query, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. He laughs softly. "Because the music is slow and the sky is gorgeous and because I love you."

Before you get the chance to recognise, process or even understand what he said, he's swaying you around the gravel under the stars.

"Because you what?" You squeak, your eyes desperately searching his as you look for any reason this might be some kind of a joke or one of pranks that makes you want to throttle him. He just smiles at you with those crinkled eyes and the love shining right there in his eyes for you to see. Your stomach flutters like the teenager you were when you fell in love with him. His lips dip down to capture yours in the best kiss that your being has ever felt, his hands ringing your hair, stroking down over your cheeks with those warm hands of his.

"Because I've fell for you, isn't it obvious?"

#jack grealish imagines #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish blurb #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics

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sergeantbuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

serendipity // bucky barnes

PART ONE

Summary: You end up stuck in 1942 without a way to come back, but when you meet the young and charming version of Bucky Barnes, do you really want to go back to the present?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: lack of ‘40s knowledge

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Thanks to @punxgal for proofreading this. You’re amazing!

divider by @firefly-graphics

next part | series masterlist | main masterlist

“Are you sure we should be here? You know how Tony is about people in his lab,” Wanda pointed out for like the seventh time but you kept on ignoring her. Maybe you should have listened to her and you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation.

Tony didn’t allow anyone in his lab, he had his reasons, but the majority of it was because he didn’t like it when other people touched his stuff. You had the stupid idea of breaking this rule to go to see what he was working on, and of course, you bring Wanda with you, because if you are going to get in trouble you may as well involve your best friend.

You were a restless person and had the bad habit of sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. It was something most people hated about you, you did nothing to change it, but this time took the cake.

You had messed with one of Tony’s new gadgets, the lights went off, an alarm ringing so loud you had to cover your ears. Then out of nowhere, a gust of wind swirled the room.

Wanda screamed at you asking what was going on, sparks lighting up the darkroom. You could feel what felt like someone pulling you and then your body hit the ground and seconds later Wanda was laying next to you.

Pulling yourself back up onto your feet, you looked around taking in your surroundings. You weren’t in Tony’s lab anymore. You were outside, in a dark alley.

“Did Tony build a teleportation machine?” you asked confused

“Not exactly,” you turned around to see Wanda, she was holding a newspaper in her hands with a frightened look on her face. You take a look at the paper to see what got her so shaken, and you saw it, the date.

“We’re in 1942?”

Was it really possible that you had traveled back in time? Had he really figured it out? You knew Tony was a genius but a time machine it’s too much, even for him.

“What do we do now?” Wanda was looking at you as if she was waiting for you to come with a solution, after all, you were responsible for this situation. If you haven’t sniffed around Tony’s lab you wouldn’t be here right now, you would be back at the compound, safe and eating ice cream while you watch some shitty show on Netflix.

You sighed, “I don’t know”

“They’re going to come for us, right?”

“I guess. The alarms went off in the lab, so they must know that something has happened, it’s just a matter of time until they put two and two together and come to our rescue.” But you didn’t know when that’s gonna happen. “We’ll just have to wait”

“Okay,” Wanda accepted, “What do we do until then?”

You decided the best thing, for now, was to look for a place to stay. You walked out of the alley and into the streets of Brooklyn. As you walked through the crowd you could see the strange looks people were giving you, trying to get out of your way or trying not to walk close to you at all.

“Why are they looking at us like that?” you inquired.

Wanda stopped walking and grabbed your hand, pulling you to a side of the street “I think it’s the clothes” she pointed out.

“What’s wrong with our- “ you stopped your sentence when you took a look at what you were wearing. Jeans, t-shirts, boots, and leather jackets aren't the most go-to look in the ’40s.

You couldn’t walk through the streets like that. It was drawing attention and that’s the last thing you two needed right now. Wanda paused for a moment, you standing next to her, she was doubting if she should do what she had in mind or not, it was a good option, the only option you guys had. Wanda wasn’t a fan of her powers, especially with people often being scared and disgusted by her. Not that she didn’t blame them though. But it hurt you that some people didn’t see farther than her powers. She is not only your best friend, but an amazing person and who only deserves the best.

Wanda sighed. She didn’t have a choice. You looked at her and instantly knew what she wanted to do. It was one of the many reasons The Scarlet Witch was your best friend. There was no need for words to know what the other was thinking, even without her powers, there was a connection between you two.

Only a snap of her fingers and a few seconds later, you looked down to see your clothes. Your twenty-first century outfit had been replaced with a knee-length, A-line dress and a pair of peep-toe heels and your hair was now lying in loose waves. “Wow.” You looked at her with fascination that you’d always held when seeing Wanda use her powers. You didn’t understand why people could be afraid of her when she could do such wonderful things.

It was the next day when you were laying in the bed of the hostel you were staying at and the ceiling had never been more interesting. It had been more than 24 hours and still, you had no news from your friends.

You hadn’t left the room, and you were starting to feel suffocated.

“Let’s get out,” you proposed as you got up from the bed. Wanda tore her gaze from the book she was reading and looked at you like had grown a second head.

“Are you crazy? We can’t just go walking around the city like that!”

“Why not?” you pouted and sat in her bed next to her “What is the harm?”

Your careless demeanor was something that drove Wanda crazy sometimes. You never thought about the consequences your actions could have and you two being stuck more than seventy years in the past was the perfect example of that. And now you wanted to go out and have fun as if this were a normal Friday for you.

The witch sighed and closed the book in her hands. “We’re not home, (Y/N). We cannot go and parade around the city like we belong here.”

“I just want to have some fun!”

“You wanting to have fun is what had brought us here in the first place.” Wanda muttered under her breath, you weren’t supposed to hear it, but you did. You got up abruptly from the bed and made your way to the door.

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t reply to her as you left the room, closing the door behind you as you made your way out of the building and into the streets of New York. You knew you were acting childish and you knew Wanda was right but you were too proud to let her know that.

You walked through the streets with no particular destination in mind, you just needed the air hitting on your face. You had walked for at least twenty minutes when you spotted a building that caught your eye. A dance hall.

You crossed the street and made your way into the building. Jazz music flooded your ears as soon as you entered even though the club wasn't that large. It had enough room for various couples to be able to dance and that’s all that seemed to be needed. This scene was so different from what you were used to. It felt different but in a good way. You couldn't help but feel struck by the feeling that you were born in the wrong decade. You’d have loved to live like this.

As your eyes explored the room, you spotted a short man aside from the crowd that you couldn’t help but recognize. You narrowed your eyes, trying to get a better glimpse of him. Oh my god... He was so much different now, but you would recognize the face of Steve Rogers anywhere.

You turned to leave as soon as you recognised him. Steve couldn’t see you. Yes, he had no idea who you were yet, but he’ll meet you in the future and this could affect all manners of things. What if you do something that changes the past and affects the future and- Now you were panicking, your mind running a mile per hour, trying to get out there when you turned and slammed straight into someone.

“Careful, doll.” That voice, why did it sound so familiar to you? You looked up into the eyes of the man in front of you and there he was. A young Bucky Barnes. With those steel-blue eyes, full of joy and that charming smile that never left his face. This version of him, at least. The Bucky you knew was nothing like the man that currently stood in front of you.

“You okay?” he asked worriedly, and it was then you realized that you had been staring at him for too long.

You looked away quickly, muttering a quick, “Y-Yeah, sorry.”

You tried to walk past him and keep your original plan of leaving the club. If talking to Steve was a bad idea, talking to Bucky wasn’t a better one. As soon as you made to leave, Bucky grabbed your upper arm gently, turning your heels so you were facing him again.

“Come on, doll. You can’t leave me like that,” the smile never left his face and you thought how strange it was to see him smile so much. Nowadays, it was a rarity to see Bucky smile, not that you could blame him for his broody demeanor after everything that he has been through. But now you couldn’t shake how damn beautiful he looked with a smile adorning his features. “You own me at least one dance.”

He held his hand to you, and you knew you should have refused, it was the worst idea and it could affect the future but you weren’t known for making the right choices. So, you took his hand and danced through your second mistake of the night.

It was late when you walked into the room, but Wanda was still up, waiting for you on her bed. She was doing her typical ‘scolding a child’ pose and she could be intimidating when she wanted to.

“Where have you been?” she demanded.

You bit your bottom lip, a habit you had when you were nervous. “I fucked up….again”

His hands were on your back with yours wrapped around his shoulders. You swayed to the slow melody the band was playing.

“So… I don’t think I got your name,”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” His shameless flirting made you chuckle as you’d heard the stories from Steve about Bucky’s amazing luck with the ladies. But now that you had that same man in front of you, his hand wrapped around your middle and dancing so close to you, you could see why so many women fell for him. He really had a game.

“What about you, Romeo? Can I get your name?”

“Bucky Barnes” he smirked. As you kept dancing to the sound of the music, his eyes never left yours, not for even a second, and you wished in that moment that you had the power to read his mind.

He tightened his hands on your back as he leaned a little to be closer to you. “How is it that I have never seen you around before?”

“I’m just passing by” You simply state, not technically lying to him. You still held hope that your friends were working on a way to bring you home.

“Does that mean I’m not gonna see you again?” His voice sounded disappointed, almost sad.

He brought one of the hands that were resting on your back to your face, caressing your cheek gently. Cupping your jaw, he looked into your eyes, asking for permission. When you didn’t do anything to stop him, he closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. His lips were soft as they brushed gently against your own and you couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed you with so much tenderness. Bucky has only known you for a few hours and his kiss had more meaning than any of the kisses you had received from any of your previous relationships. It was something you didn’t know you craved until now, so you let yourself get lost in the kiss, melting into the third mistake of the night.

“What the hell, (Y/N)!” Wanda raised her voice at you. “Do you have any idea of what you have done?”

“I just- I couldn’t help myself,” you defended yourself, “You should have seen him… I couldn’t tell him no.”

“Since when do you have feelings for Bucky?”

“I don’t!”

“It doesn’t sound like it…. and it definitely doesn’t look like it. You practically light up every time you mention his name!” pointing accusingly at you.

You weren’t lying when you said you don’t have feelings for Bucky. You had barely talked to the man since Steve brought him to the compound. You didn’t know anything about him other than what basic information everyone already knew.

He was quiet and shy, spending most of his time locked in his room. The times he did come out, he only spoke with Steve and Sam. He tried to stay out of the way of everyone, not wanting to be a burden.

“What did you do after the kiss?” Wanda asked, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“I ran away...”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

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firecatvariant · 3 years

Text

I’d Choose You (Satan)

Another Satan x MC (female) fluff fic! I know I write about him a lot, but he’s my favorite so he provides me with the most inspiration. But I promise I am working on head cannons and other short fics that include the other characters! This just came to mind tonight and I wanted to get it down.

Enjoy!

*end quote is by Keirsten White

I’d Choose You

“Satan! There you are! I ...”

MC stopped, as she realized Satan was surrounded by a half dozen or so succubi. They were all extremely beautiful, and MC felt ugly and dull in comparison.

He hadn't heard her, so she didn't move forward. She pressed herself against the wall, trying to be inconspicuous as possible. But she could hear their conversation.

“Oh Lord Satan, you're so adorable.”

“I need help with my schoolwork, and I can't think of anyone better than you to help me.”

“Why don't we go out on a date sometime?”

MC stared. She hadn't realized Satan was so popular. But of course, he was. He was intelligent, good looking, one of the seven demon lords. Who wouldn't be attracted to him?

She felt tears spring to her eyes. It was stupid to be so jealous when he had told her so many times that he loved her. But she couldn't help the tugging pain in her heart as she watched him surrounded by the beautiful demons, all begging for his attention.

Satan just smiled at them. Was it fake or genuine? Did he relish the attention he received from them? She couldn't tell. Slowly she turned and then quickly walked in the other direction, hoping no one noticed her. She saw Mammon coming in her direction, and noticing something was wrong, he reached out and grabbed her arm

“Oi, MC. What are you doing?”

“N-nothing. I just have to get somewhere.”

“Are you crying? Hey what's the matter?”

“It's nothing! I just had some dust in my eye!”

She pulled away. “I have to go”, she said and practically ran away, leaving Mammon standing there looking baffled.

Satan noticed his brother, and while he wouldn't usually call out to him, he noticed something was wrong. Leaving the succubi, he walked over to his older brother.

“What's going on?” he asked.

Mammon turned on him. “Did you do something to MC?”

Satan recoiled. “What? No! I haven't even seen her.”

“Well, she just ran by me crying. She claimed she had some dust in her eye, but I know she was crying.”

Satan looked bewildered, and Mammon glared at him. He had some sort of idea of how MC and Satan felt about each other, and while it bothered him to no end, deep down MC's happiness was all that mattered.

Satan took a deep breath. “I'll go and find her.”

Satan looked everywhere, but MC was nowhere to be found. They weren't in their room, they weren't in any of his brothers’ rooms, the common room or the library. As he started to make his way towards the attic, Belphie came down the stairs and glared at him.

“You're not allowed up there.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because MC doesn't want to see you.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me. So, I said I'd make sure you didn't.”

Satan was starting to get angry, which was never a good sign. But Belphie stood his ground.

“If you care about her, you'll respect what she wants.”

That made sense, and while it didn't calm Satan's wrath, it did make him turn away.

He slammed the door and began pacing his room. What on earth was the matter with MC? Why was she crying? Why wouldn't she see him?

Satan wasn't stupid, and once he sat and thought about it, it didn't take him long to figure out what was wrong. MC must have seen him surrounded by all those succubi earlier, and most likely came to the wrong conclusion.

At first, he felt angry that she didn't trust him, that she could even imagine that he would want to give his affections to anyone else. But then logic took over. How did he feel whenever he saw her having fun or smiling with one of his brothers? It ate him up inside, made him furious. It was irrational, but it still happened.

He had to talk to her, had to reassure her that she was the only one for him, she was the only one he loved with his entire being.

Calming himself, he started to make his way towards the attic, but this time was blocked by Lucifer. The very last person he wanted to see.

“If you're looking for MC, they've left the house to go over to Purgatory Hall to do their homework with Solomon.”

Solomon! His biggest rival, in both knowledge and MC's affections. He may be immortal, but he was human, and he was MC's sorcery teacher. Which meant he spent a lot of time with her.

Walking over to Purgatory Hall, he realized he didn't want a public confrontation, so he pulled out his D.D.D and text MC.

“Can we talk?”

“MC?”

“Please don't be childish and ignore me. Come out and talk to me.”

He watched the dots that indicated typing, and MC’s response was sent.

“Ok.”

He waited a few moments, and soon MC came out of Purgatory Hall. Her face was red, and she seemed embarrassed.

He grabbed her hand. “Come with me.”

When they got to a quiet spot in the Devildom forest, between the houses, MC began talking.

“I'm sorry. I know I was being childish, but after acting the way I did I was too embarrassed to face you and ...”

Satan put his finger to her lips.

“It's ok. I'm not angry. I just want to know what's going on.”

MC took a deep breath. “Seeing you surrounded by all those succubi earlier, it just made my heart ache. I was so jealous, and I began to worry that I wasn't good enough for you. I'm just an average human, nothing special and ...”

He smiled. It was satisfying to hear that she was jealous. Because it meant she that cared.

“Listen to me. All the succubi, humans, demons, angels in the world could talk to me, but there's only one being I have eyes for. You. You are the only one who's ever made me feel this way. You changed me and made me a better demon. I love you, MC.”

MC stared at him, and tears began forming in her eyes.

“I love you too. I'm so sorry.”

He smiled at her. “I'll forgive you, if you give me a kiss.”

MC smiled back. “Of course.”

The next day, they walked to RAD together, holding hands. MC could feel the burning looks from some of the other students, but Satan squeezed her hand, and she felt a little better.

Before they parted ways, Satan handed her a folded piece of paper. “This is for you. It's a note I wrote for you to always keep with you. Read it.”

With that, he kissed her forehead and headed to class.

As MC unfolded the note she read:

My dearest MC, Remember that I love you. And remember that: I'd choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, In any version of reality, I'd find you And I'd choose you. Satan

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me satan #obey me satan x mc #obey me fluff #obey me fic

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 3 years

Text

Imagine Huan Beifong standing up to Bataar jnr for you

Your POV

You’d worked for the Beifongs for 3 years now. You’d become a fighter like your idol Su as soon as you were old enough but had been Opal’s best friend for far longer than that. As a result you were viewed as less of an employee but more of an extended family member. Well at least by most of the Beifongs...Opal, Huan, Wei and Wing never treated you like their staff but the same couldn’t be said for the eldest Beifong. Bataar junior’s demeanour had never been warm to you but the second you became a soldier his attitude to you took a turn for the worse. He definitely stopped seeing you as a family friend and instead viewed you as someone with a duty to his family. You found it ironic considering he was dating Kuvira, the head of his mother’s guards, but Opal claimed her brother’s stupidity had no bounds. It didn’t bother you that Bataar clearly had a problem with you but it did make it awkward sometimes. Like when you were technically off duty but Bataar still wanted you to use your guard perks to reactivate the domes. You were relaxing in the living room with Opal and her siblings when Bataar had burst in demanding you go and give the orders for the domes to be activated without his mother’s return. Su had been away in republic city and was due back tonight but she hadn’t returned. Bataar was concerned at the city’s defence but rather than going to find a guard on duty he found you and gave you the demand. It would be easiest and quickest he claimed. You looked at the rain pouring down outside and frowned. You’d just worked a 10 hour shift and were looking forward to a games night followed by a very long sleep but Bataar wanted you to traipse across to the guards tower to activate something you probably didn’t need. “Ah come on Bataar leave it” Wing called and Wei nodded “yeah y/n doesn’t need to do that”. “Yes she does, have you forgotten she works for us?”. “Not for us” Huan said sharply and you all jumped forgetting the second eldest Beifong was sat in the corner reading.

Huan was never someone to shy away from an argument partly due to his short temper but when he did it was usually always in relation to him. Someone would question his art or hair and he’d snap back in the name of self-preservation. He never bothered with other people or their arguments which is why when he spoke up you all stared at him in shock.

"Y/n is a part of mother’s guard not yours" Huan said. He spoke softly but with a distinct and clear tone, it was impressive how he didn’t even have to raise his voice to be imposing. "Don't order her around like that" Huan finished glaring at his brother. All his siblings froze as did you and Bataar. Bataar immediately blushed as all his siblings looked at him and he coughed coming closer to Huan "i am the eldest and so in mother’s absence i can give orders to the staff". "No you can’t, you're not y/n’s boss so stop pretending you are just so you can feel important, y/n doesn't have to do anything you say". "When mother isn’t here her responsibilities....". "Are hers" Huan said standing up "you do not pay y/n’s salary, mother does. So you don’t get to tell her what to do, you want the domes putting? Do it yourself". Huan and Bataar shared at each other before finally Bataar admitted defeat to his younger brother. "Fine" he snapped "if she refuses then i will" and he grabbed his coat before slamming the door loudly. You all stared at Huan expecting him to comment or say something but he just went back to his seat in the corner. Wei, Wing and Opal all exchanged looks with you but Huan sat back down and picked up his book again as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

As soon as you retired to Opal’s bedroom to go to sleep she pounced. "Sooooo" Opal sang "now we can finally talk about what just happened?”. You’d been dreading this. Opal was your best friend and so could always tell when you were lying or embarrassed. "Huan?" you asked figuring there was no getting out of it and Opal nodded "it was insane right? I have never heard him stand up for someone like that!". You nodded your head "Bataar must really be pissing him off lately". "Yeah that could be part of it" Opal smirked and you sighed "Opal no!". Opal had this theory Huan had a soft spot for you and it had made you develop a crush on the metal bender over the years. He was so dignified and impressive the idea of him even paying attention to you...well lets just say it was a miracle Opal hadn’t realised. "Yes" Opal grinned "come on y/n that was a pretty open display of affection". "Or an open display of contempt for his brother?". "No he’s had plenty of opportunities to attack Bataar but he chose the one involving you, that’s important". You rolled your eyes "well i don’t think it does". "Well i think it does and so does Wei and Wing". "You spoke to them about it?". "Duh! As soon as you went to the bathroom". "But Opal your brothers are the biggest blabbermouths in all of Zafou! They’ll tell Huan and then it'll make things awkward and Huan will never speak to me again!". “Calm down I swore them to secrecy, they promised me they wouldn’t say anything”. You raised an eyebrow and Opal smirked “well they’ll try not to....either way it’s out of your control so shut up and go to sleep”. You sighed angrily but were indeed tired so you buried your head in the pillow “if they do i’ll blame you”. “Yeah yeah whatever go to sleep”.

Huan’s POV

The following morning Huan found himself doing something he never did, leaving the sanctity of his workspace and going for a walk. Huan needed some inspiration and thought a trip around the grounds might help so he took a stroll around. Huan hated the outdoors and soon remembered why...other humans were there.

"Sooo that thing last night" Wing appeared from nowhere smirking. Huan jumped as his twin brothers descended on either side of him and he frowned "what? A lot of things happened last night". "You and y/n of course" Wei grinned "so how long have you two been an item". Huan jumped "what? Me and y/n aren’t anything! What are you talking about?". "Well you defended her honour so valiantly we figured you were either dating or crushing on her". Huan glared "it’s neither, Bataar was being rude to her so i put him in his place, that was all". "See but that’s the thing" Wing said grabbing him to stop him leaving "you never do that, Opal and Kuvira bicker all the time and you never step in when both of them could do with a putting down from time to time". "Or mum, or dad or even us" Wei nodded "you always stay out of it because you’re the unbothered child who doesn’t care about anything but y/n...something about her made you speak up". Huan groaned rolling his eyes "you are reading way too much into this, why wouldn’t someone speak up for y/n, she’s been Opal’s best friend for so long she’s basically family". "But you never speak up for Opal or us come to think of it" Wing said getting angry. "So" Wei said taking over "you didn’t stand up for her because she’s Opal best friend but because you likeeee her" he grinned and Huan sighed. "Whatever" and he pushed his brothers off him "you’re crazy" but they both saw the red of his cheeks.

Your POV

"Y/n!" you heard someone scream and jumped to see Wei and Wing running up to you at the guard post where you stood. "Opal told us you’d be here" they said out of breath "we have to tell you something!". "Okay go on". "No in private" they said eyeing your co-guard with suspicion. You frowned "erm can you please scan the perimeter?". Your fellow guard nodded and Wei and Wing grabbed you "y/n you’ll never guess what....Huan likes you!". You blushed immediately "what...no he doesn’t, what are you talking about!". "We spoke to him about you and he blushed just as adorably as you" Wei teased and you glared raising a fist. "He did" Wing said intervening "albeit less tomato like but he blushed none the less". You paused "really? Well i mean he could just be embarrassed...". "Nope and we have proof" Wei smirked and you crossed your arms "ow yeah? What?". "He’s over there watching us right now" and you turned to see a figure looking out from a window.

Huan’s POV

Huan jumped from the window like he’d been scalded. His cursed brothers! Why were they determined to ruin his life. They planted the seed in his head then created a trap for him. He’d been watching you because he’d heard people yelling your name and grew worried when he realised it was his brothers. True he did carry on watching, curious at your reaction to what he knew his brothers were telling you. He was amused when your first instinct was to hit his brothers and he realised you had that in common. Huan did find you...amicable as humans went. Well more than amicable, you were one of the few people he didn’t mind being in a room with. You weren’t loud or obnoxious, you were dedicated and hard working but he’d also heard you with Opal and knew you were excitable and kind. You hadn’t even minded when Opal’s sky bison had licked you which Huan figured made you a very tolerable person. Huan had a slight smile on his face when his brothers said something and you all turned to look at him. Huan darted away from the window and flattened himself against the wall. His heart was racing and he could tell his face was bright red. Huan figured this was Wei and Wing’s (no doubt Opal was also involved) meddling way to get the two of you to interact and Huan hated how well it had worked.

He expected you’d get curious now Wei and Wing had exposed him and he waited for you to appear for the awkward conversation but you never approached him. When by the end of the week you still hadn’t mentioned it Huan was confused. He figured you’d have believed his brothers and come to see for yourself the truth. Instead you carried on as normal and your behaviour towards him didn’t change in the slightest. Even tonight during your weekly sleepover with Opal, Huan bumped into you in the kitchen and still you said nothing. The two of you were alone, it would've been easy for you to comment on it but you didn’t. You’d just explained you were getting a snack for opal and yourself, apologised for disturbing him and left. Huan was utterly confused and also disappointed. Weren't you curious about what his brothers had said? He knew if the roles were reversed...he’d definitely be curious and even a little hopeful?

Huan hated not knowing things so he decided to find out what was going on. You were over at their house again and were with Opal in her room. Huan waited for you to go to the bathroom before he began his interrogation of Opal. He opened her door sharply and stepped inside. "Okay we don’t have a lot of time but quickly, has y/n said anything about what Wei and Wing did earlier this week?". Opal jumped but responded quickly "no and that surprised me, she was worried Wei and Wing would harass you but when I asked her about what they said to her on guard duty she said it was fine". "Fine?" Huan asked "but they....they schemed to make me look suspicious, y/n didn’t comment on that?". Opal shook her head "no, she must’ve not bought it". "Ow" Huan frowned and Opal smiled "ow?". "I just thought....after all that trouble i’d have to talk to her about it but i guess y/n’s smart enough to not read into it". Opal’s smile grew "you could still talk to her about it, i’m sure she’d want to talk to you". Huan froze "she would, why?". "Well communication is always nice plus and she’d kill me for telling you this but she likes you". Huan frowned "she does? Why? How do you know?". "Why? I honestly don’t know" Opal smirked "but how do I know? Well i’m her best friend and for about 2 years now anytime i bring you up she pauses and goes all weird...kind of like you right now...she thinks she has me fooled but I can see right through her and she has a thing for you". "Wow...i guess you’d know being her best friend but are you 100% sure?". Opal nodded "i’m certain". Huan paused wondering how to proceed when suddenly the door opened. "Sorry i was a while, Wei was in there before me and it wasn’t pretty" before you spotted Huan and jumped "ow! Huan! Hi" you smiled politely and Huan replied just as polite and formally making Opal grin. "Huan was here for you actually, he just wanted a word about Wing and Wei so i’ll go get us some drinks and be back in like 10 minutes, okay?". But Opal didn’t give you time to reply before she was gone leaving the two of you alone.

Your POV

You and Huan stood across from each other awkwardly and you smiled “so what did you want to tell me about Wing and Wei?” "Well I just wanted to...to ask you...you’ve probably noticed they’ve been pretty excitable lately". You smiled "that’s one way to put it, downright nuisances is another". Huan smiled and nodded "i agree totally i just wanted to make sure they’re not...annoying you too much? I saw them disturb you at work earlier in the week". You laughed "they’re annoying but harmless really, rather like large puppies i just let whatever they say go in one ear and out the other, don’t worry they don’t bother me". Huan nodded unsure what else to say when you spoke again "do they bother you? I've heard they've been stalking you". Huan sighed "yes they've been my shadow for a while, nothing i can say will make them go away". You frowned in thought "i don’t know what to suggest". "I’m not asking you for a solution" Huan rushed to assure you "i was just making sure you’re okay...with them". "That’s kind of you thank you" you replied and saw Huan look down sharply. You watched him and carried on "i should probably say thank you for the other night too, for standing up to Bataar for me". Huan nodded his head but could barely met your eyes "it was nothing". "No it was really nice and kind! Coming from you as well it meant a lot". "Coming from me?" Huan asked unsure if that was a compliment and you hurried to explain "i just meant because you never really get involved in things so for you to be the one to speak up...." now you were the one struggling to meet his eyes "it meant a lot". Huan paused utterly confused how to proceed. He liked that you seemed to really like his standing up for you but had no idea how to lead that into something more. "Well i...you're a good person and my sisters best friend i...of course i’d help you". You smiled "well it was very kind thank you Huan" and rested a hand on his shoulder. Huan glanced at your hand and you removed it rapidly "sorry i forgot you don’t like touching!". "No it’s alright" Huan went to explain when there was a knock and Opal appeared "hey do you need me to come back in a bit?" she asked but Huan straightened and stepped away from you "no everything is sorted thank you. So i’ll be leaving good night" he nodded to both of you and left. You nodded to him managing not to blush and relaxed as the door closed. "Soooooo" Opal started and you sighed "don’t".

You had no idea what to make out of Huan actually seeking you out for a conversation and wondered if Opal had been right this whole time. You wished Huan would just tell you or ask you out but knew there was no way he’d do something so open or reckless. You could ask him out but you worried that you’d misinterpreted his actions and would make it awkward. Not to mention you literally worked for his family. So you decided to leave it and try not to think about it but another Beifong wasn’t thinking that way.

Huan’s POV

Even since that night Huan challenged him Bataar had been short tempered and extra rude to everyone but to Huan especially. Huan didn’t really care, he never listened to Bataar anyway but he did notice how Bataar would go out of his way to annoy his siblings in front of Huan and it was getting on his nerves. The worst times were when you were there too. Bataar seemed determined to remind everyone he was the eldest, the one with the most trust and responsibility, and did that by snapping or undermining you. It was usually just petty childish quips so Huan left it, until one night Bataar went too far.

It was a Friday and so you were off duty and with the Beifongs like all Friday nights. Everyone was getting ready for something Varick invented called a mover that Wei and Wing managed to steal from his room. You were five minutes into said mover when the door opened flooding the room with light and ruining the projection. Everyone called out protests but Bataar just hushed them “y/n Kuvira needs you to help her with some paperwork”. “She’s off duty” Huan said automatically and you looked at him before looking back at Bataar. “I know that but this is urgent avatar business, now do you want to be a soldier or do you want to act like a child your whole life?” Bataar asked. You sighed looking at the stack of papers but stood up “you guys carry on i’ll be back as soon as I can”. Wei paused the film and Opal switched on the light “it’s okay we can wait” Wing told you and you smiled gratefully. “I'll be as quick as I can” you told them and settled at the table as Bataar threw the paperwork down pointedly. “Kuvira wants you to find a missing report from last week, it’s somewhere in all here”. “How is that crucial?” Huan asked and Bataar rolled his eyes “because that is when the red lotus broke in to Zafou and they either had help or someone dropped the ball, the report will tell us that”. “How about we all help?” Wei called and Wing nodded “yeah then we’ll find it quicker”. “Nope none of you are cleared for this only y/n” Bataar said smugly and you sighed but turned to the stacks of paper.

An hour later you were three quarters of the way through the stack and still no report was in sight. “If it’s not in there then Kuvira has more paperwork you can look through” Bataar told you “but this was the small pile” and you could’ve sworn he smiled as he said that. “You have to be kidding?” Huan cried and Bataar turned around “why would I be kidding? Unlike all you children I actually care about Zafou. You tried to shoot Huan an *this is okay* look but weren’t sure if it correlated. “We all care about Zafou Bataar but if she hasn’t found it by now do you really think she will? The person who allowed the red lotus to break in probably disposed of it immediately or maybe it was just lost" Huan shrugged and Bataar glared. "I’m sorry brother but did i ask for your opinion?". "No hence why you’re acting so stupidly, you tend to do that unsupervised" Huan rolled his eyes. Wei laughed and Bataar glared. "Kuvira is on duty tonight and this is what she wants y/n to do urgently". "But y/n isn’t on duty so she doesn’t have to do it!" Huan said and you saw him getting angry. "Huan it’s okay" you said softly but he shook his head coming to stand next to you "no Bataar’s taking his anger with me out on you and that’s not fair". "I wonder why?" Bataar commented and Huan raised an eyebrow "what was that?". "Well you call me stupid but it’s a good tactic, messing with y/n certainly gets you riled". Wei, Wing and Opal all stared eyes wide as you and Huan turned red. Suddenly the close proximity to you didn’t seem like such a great idea anymore. Bataar laughed "pft you act like you’re so moral when you're only doing it because you clearly like her". "I...that is irrelevant" Huan muttered "you're being cruel that’s that". "No i’m not and if you were objective about her you’d realise that". "I’d do it even if i didn’t like her" Huan said flustered and Bataar grinned "even if you didn’t like her? Is that a confession?". Silence settled and Huan tensed. Bataar’s grin grew "you said you’d do it even if you didn’t like her so that means...". "Shut up Bataar" Huan glared and Bataar laughed "i mean i get it i’d be annoyed too, it must be embarrassing knowing she doesn’t like you back...rather humiliating I suppose". Bataar went to speak again but you cut him off "who says i don’t like him back?". Bataar froze "what?". You were usually so quiet he didn’t think even if you did like Huan you’d admit it in a room full of people but Bataar had underestimated you. "You said it’s embarrassing because i don’t return Huan’s feelings but you're wrong i do like him, a lot...you're the only embarrassing person here”. Wing and Wei laughed and Bataar paled "I...you're both welcome to each other” and he stormed away. "Y/n that was great!" Opal called and Wei, Wing and Opal all flocked around you before you caught sight of Huan. He was staring at you but looked away when you looked at him. "We should...." Wei started and Wing and Opal nodded "yeah we'll be going...".

The door shut loudly and you and Huan looked at one another. "So..." you started as Huan also went to speak. You both apologised and told the other to go first. When that happened a second time you sighed "okay i’ll go first! So what you said to Bataar did you....did you mean that?". Huan nodded "did you? Or were you just saying it to shut him up?". "No i meant it" you smiled and Huan blushed "ow that’s...unexpected". "I don’t think it is considering Opal told you I liked you". Huan jumped "how do you know?". "Ow come on, as soon as i walked into the room to find you both whispering together i knew she'd sold me out". "Why didn’t you say anything if you knew?" Huan asked and you shrugged "i could ask you the same thing". Huan smiled softly "that’s fair I....I guess I was worried...Opal said she was sure but i...i didn’t want to ruin anything if you didn’t like me". You smiled as Huan’s reasons mirrored your own and you stepped forward "well i do like you so there's no worry there". Huan nodded his head, his eyes darted around the room nervously before they settled on you “well in that case...would you like to date me?” Huan cringed as he said it “god I sound pathetic”. You laughed “trust me you don’t, i’d very much like to date you”. Huan grinned brightly in response and you laughed at the reaction “that’s...” Huan reached for you when suddenly the door was pushed open. “Look we know we should give you more time but it’s getting late and we really want to see the mover” Wei pouted and you laughed as Huan blushed “fine come in” he called rolling his eyes but he smiled when you looked at him. Opal, Wei and Wing took the sofa nearest the door leaving the other one for you and Huan. You sat down together and Huan laced his hand through yours. You ignored the stifled laughter coming from the other sofa and sighed in relief when the lights switched off and the movie began.

The sofa you and Huan were on was smaller and so you were forced to sit pretty close together but you didn’t mind. You were surprised though when Huan shifted his arm around you. Huan never initiated contact with anyone and so this was a pretty huge deal for him. “You looked cold” he said when you glanced at him but you saw by the blush on his cheek that was just an excuse. You smiled and leant into him “that was a poor excuse Beifong”. Huan chuckled softly and you smiled up at him. “Hey keep it PG over there guys, some of us over here are still innocent little angels” Wei called and Huan rolled his eyes throwing a cushion at his face. “I’m really sorry about them” Huan whispered to you when their laughter died down and you smirked “it’s fine, just ignore them and focus on me”. Huan nodded his head “well that won’t be hard...” and you blushed at Huan’s tone. You and Huan stayed wrapped together for the duration of the mover and when it finished Huan led you to Opal’s room. “So I was thinking we could go on a date tomorrow if it’s not too soon?” Huan asked and you grinned “Not at all! What did you have in mind?”. “Well I know you always wake up early due to working shifts and they’ve just started planting in the gardens with summer on the way, so I thought we could walk around the grounds before anyone is awake and watch the sunrise?....or something”. You grinned “you can tell you’re an artist”. “Why is it a stupid idea?”. “No it’s lovely,” you said quickly “you’ve just planned a very beautiful date, it sounds lovely”. Huan blushed looking down before glancing up at you “glad you like it, so I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning?”. “It’s a date” you agreed and smiled as Huan blushed. “See you tomorrow then�� you smiled and kissed Huan softly on the cheek. Huan froze as you touched him and turned an even deeper shade of red. “Kiss you...I mean see you tomorrow” Huan babbled before walking away and you smiled at how dazed he seemed from something as simple as a kiss. He bumped into Opal as he passed her and Opal frowned as she came to stand infront of you “do I even want to know what you did to give my brother that goofy look?”. “Probably not” you agreed and Opal sighed “this is going to be odd but a good odd, you and Huan are perfect for each other”. “I hope so” you sighed following Opal into her room “I really like him”. “Well as tonight proved he really likes you too....our sleepover days are numbered” Opal cried dramatically “soon you’ll be having sleepovers with Huan” and you threw a pillow at her. “Stop that”. “What it’s true!” Opal grinned “the only upside is we’ll be sisters officially soon”. “Me and Huan literally haven’t been on a date yet!” you cried and Opal shook her head laughing. “It’s sweet you think that y/n but you’ve basically been pre-dating for years, you and Huan care a lot more about each than first date level”. You blushed at the truth of Opal’s words and looked down “can we just go to sleep?”. Opal took pity on you and nodded. You both got ready for bed and finally you closed your eyes ready to go to sleep. “Don’t hit me but I just wanted to say, joking aside I’m really happy for you and Huan, I love you both and can’t think of anyone better for either of you”. You blushed and squeeed Opal’s hand “thanks Opal that’s really sweet”. Opal grinned at you before smiling “okay now I promise I’ll shut up” and with a fond smile you turned away and closed your eyes again ready to try and sleep. With your date with Huan on the horizon, Opal’s sweet words and the day's events in your mind, you fell asleep with a large smile on your face.

___

I can not shake these Huan feels!!! I think it’s the long hair but either way Huan Beifong is the shit!

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script-nef · 4 years

Text

Tokyo to France

Category: fluff

1.6k words; Office date [1/6]

Gojou Satoru is many things. The Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer, an official title which is proven often to be true; humanity's ray of light in the fight against cursed spirits—see the "strongest sorcerer" bit; a teacher at the Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu Specialty High School even though most, if not all, of the Sorcerers Exclusive don't really approve of him; and a total bother.

He has an aloof and laid-back aura, indicating he doesn’t really care about much other than his missions and his occupation as a teacher. He’s whimsical and spontaneous, sometimes selfish in the extreme, putting his desires—like his all-too-often snack breaks—first ahead of anything, except for critical situations. And even then he might still not come. Add his total disregard for higher-ups who pretend to see the “bigger picture”, and there’s a lot of reasons why everyone he’s ever met—well, most of everyone since the newest kid Itadori is yet to experience the full "Gojou's shitty antics" ride just yet but it'll come soon, you can tell—are often annoyed by him.

And the one person who experiences this more than anyone is you, who's currently suffering under his relentless chatter after another successful mission. He always does this, like you’re the only person in the world he can talk to (read: bother).

You don't have anything specific against the man, he’s usually a good friend and a welcomed fellow sweets enthusiast, it's just that you're currently behind on your assigned paperwork and he's a great distraction. His tales are often laced with humour and he has a natural knack for storytelling. The fact that Gojou has a nice, soothing voice which beckons for your attention is also a factor. If you didn't have work you'd be fully invested in his recount but as previously discussed, he has shitty antics and one of those is not particularly caring about whether the other person is busy or not.

He keeps talking and words like “egg tart”, “Shibuya” and “internationally famous” slip through your defence, forcing your brain to block out the lengthy paragraphs on the report and enticing you to listen to him. After a while, you decide that this is getting nowhere. You can’t remember the last couple of paragraphs and Gojou is usually relentless, but you can hear his voice weakening just a bit as you pretend to ignore him.

Resigning yourself from the work and leaning back onto the chair, you make pseudo-eye contact with him. He seems to brighten up just a bit when you do so, the strength of his voice returning. That makes a ghost of a smile appear on your lips. You'll just have to pull an all-nighter after your dinner with Ken-chan.

Gojou always has great stories about his trips everywhere, both in Japan and overseas. Having a teleportation skill is incredibly useful, you realise with envy. If only I had his inherited techniques is a thought which pervades your mind often.

"And I was so close to getting the egg tart but the person in front of me bought the last one! I waited for an hour! For nothing!" The story is topped off with a small pout as he slouches on the chair, chin sitting on the backrest. You laugh, amused at the sudden change of mood. Only he could go from happy and light-hearted to gloomy and dejected in a breath, jokingly or not.

An easy conversation flows between the two of you as you finally disregard your work, chin resting on your palm and eyes crinkling with laughter.

It’s nice like this. He’s been coming around the office more lately, sometimes armed with sweets and sometimes with an agenda to whisk your time away for his use because he’s bored. It’s mostly fine because a person to talk to is welcomed after a couple of hours by yourself, staring at lit screens until you can feel your eyes die off. You once got a scare because everything had a weird white outline when you finally diverted your eyes from the screen. In a sense, he was keeping your sight safe. He smiled when you said that, replying “Glad I can be of service!” before rattling off another description of a strawberry cheesecake he found in Belgium.

“It must be so nice, being able to teleport places. It takes me so much time just to travel within Japan, honestly such a bother. And I can’t really go overseas either with so many tasks to do with all the cursed spirits running around.” Sighing, you slouch on the desk and bury your face in your arms, missing how Gojou’s lips immediately quirk up.

“I can take you there, you know.” Your head shoots up at that, staring at him with wide eyes. “I can take you anywhere. How about France? We’ll be there in the blink of an eye. We can spend a couple of hours there, eat as many pastries as we want to and just snap right back here. What do you say?” His foot taps on the ground repeatedly, like he’s nervous or agitated. Is he in a hurry or something?

Well, it doesn’t take you long to come to a decision. The offer sounds nice. Really, really nice.

It’s been a while since you had a break. Not like you can take a long one since cursed spirits are unpredictable in their appearances and need constant attention so that civilian casualties don’t occur. Which means the workflow never stops coming. A trip to pastry country sounds amazing.

“Sure, that sounds good. We need to set up a ti—”

“Gojou-sensei!”

The door slams open, the sound echoing through the hallway and the office. Gojou’s new student, Itadori Yuuji, leans on the door while gasping for breaths.

“Hey, Yuuji! What’s the rush?”

“We’re supposed to be training! I was waiting in the room for the past 10 minutes!” A quick glance at the clock indicates 6:40 and you finally notice the sun setting over the mountains. The fading light paints the room in a golden warmth, which makes you wonder why you didn’t notice how fast time was flying. Probably because you were too invested in your conversation with your friend.

Who is now picking himself up from the chair and putting up theatrics by brushing off non-existent dust from his pants. Small giggles escape at his antics. A glance at Itadori tells you he’s close to dying from either dehydration or exhaustion. He must have run all over the campus trying to find Gojou. You wonder why he doesn’t just use his phone. You do live in the fifth technological age and sort of expect a teenager like him to be able to use one.

“Itadori-kun, do you want some water?” Rising out of your seat, you reach for a cup but Gojou’s hand stops it by covering yours. He twists your hand in his and interlaces his fingers with yours.

“No, it’s fine. We’re going to go now. Think about the time and date, okay? Keep in mind the time difference.” He gives the connected hand a slight jiggle as a farewell, skipping out of the room with a bright “Goodnight!” He’s initiating a lot more physical contact recently. Wonder what that’s about.

Itadori watches the scene unfold from the doorway, jaw slack. His eyes follow Gojou but as soon as he’s out of the room, they snap to you. He stares at you so intensely that it looks like his eyes are going to pop out of its sockets pretty soon. You have no idea why he’s staring at you like this and why he’s not following his teacher. It’s like he’s frozen solid in his spot.

Some—read all—of his students sometimes complain about his walking speed, how he purposefully uses his leg length as an advantage and briskly walks on ahead, leaving them in the dust. Some—again, read: all—of your co-workers said the same thing as well. You asked him about it one day and he replied with a great big smile, “I just do it for fun!” He doesn’t do it to you, though. It’s weird because he does it at least once to everyone else you ever met, even your own brother, despite him being only a few centimetres shorter than Gojou. It apparently played a part in his reluctance to partner up with him. Or just generally hang out with him. You wish he’d give Gojou a chance, he’s not that bad once you get to know him.

Hm, maybe I just don’t have an interesting enough reaction for him. Am I not interesting? Is it a really weird and backhanded way of telling me I’m boring? The train of thoughts takes off, expanding and multiplying until you realise Itadori is still imitating a befuddled statue.

You stare at him. He stares back. He doesn’t break eye contact. This is a really weird thing to think right now but he would absolutely crush everyone at a staring contest.

“Itadori-kun? Don’t you need to go?” That seems to startle him out of his stupor.

“Ah, ye—yes! Sorry for interrupting!” Before you can assure him that there was nothing to interrupt, the poor boy stumbles out of the room and also manages to bonk his head on the door and wall no less than twice. Yelps of “I’m okay!” and “Don’t worry!” followed by his running stops you from checking up on him.

“Man, Gojou must really have his hands full taking care of such a clumsy boy. Thank God Fushiguro is a bit more calmer. Now, where and when should we go… Probably should find out the time difference like he said… Oh! Maybe I can invite Shouko and Ken-chan to come along! They need to get out and have a holiday as well. I’m sure Gojou won’t mind if I invite them.”

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