#will be right now. in fact i think it’s far more likely she’ll release a live tour album which will have ‘from the vault’ songs from sn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aletterinthenameofsanity · 1 year

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the falling of our feet and it sounds like drumming (Orpheus & Eurydice!Stoncy)

The thing about Nancy Wheeler is that she refuses to let any man tell her what to do. It does not matter if that man is her father, her teacher, her brother, her sheriff, or her boyfriend.

If that means going against a Demogorgon with a handgun and a lighter, then that's what it means. If it means yelling at a boy across a party, then that's what it means. If it means firing at a giant creature made of the body parts of citizens of her small town, then that's what it means.

If it means embarking on an impossible quest of music and willpower, then that's what it means.

Nancy Wheeler is not one to back down from a challenge. She has yet to meet a circumstance where the word "impossible" holds water.

So she straps herself up with a pack on her back, a Walkman plugged into her ears, a bandanna over the mouth, a prepped Molotov cocktail in her pack, and a gun in her hand, and she strides right into the Upside Down. No powers, no Eleven, nothing but her own guts and determination and wits.

If Vecna is overpowered by the sounds of favorite music, then she'll bring every precaution.

She is getting her boys back. No Upside Down monster is taking them from her.

---

The trick is as old and simple as a creation myth: a lover walks into the underworld, music at their side, and they walk out, their lovers behind them.

Orpheus failed. He was weak. His doubt overcame his love.

Nancy Wheeler doesn't know the meaning of the world failure.

---

Vecna has Steve and Jonathan wrapped up so tight that all Nancy can see through the tentacles and red liquid is the sight of their eyes, bright jewels in the macabre and madness.

She holds up her Walkman in one hand and her gun in the other.

"I know you're afraid of these," she says, voice unshaking. She is going to bring these boys home, and she cannot show any weakness, not to a creature that feeds on doubt and fear. "I won't shoot you in the goddamn eyes if you release them."

Vecna's voice is a hoarse boom, almost godly, as he challenges her: "And why do you think I'll bow to you and your petty challenge? You are nothing compared to me, you pitiful creature."

Nancy thinks about Eleven, about those waiting for her at the Byers' house, those who miss Steve and Jonathan nearly as much as she does. "Because I can give you entertainment. That's why you take those you, don't you? For control and amusement. Well, if I win my challenge, then I get the boys. And if I lose, then you get me."

Vecna leans forward slightly, dragging the immobile bodies of her boys along with him. "That is an interesting proposition. You are a funny weak creature."

Nancy shrugs. "I've been called worse." Once or twice by the boys she's now putting her life on the line for, as a matter of fact.

"Then I have your challenge: you can take these boys and go, if you can make it to the exit without looking back or without your music stopping."

Nancy glances behind her. The portal is a pinprick of light, maybe miles away. On the earthly side, Eleven is holding it open. Nancy is relying on her to keep it open for as long as possible.

The portal is impossibly far away, but Nancy would walk a hundred miles if that was what it took to get her boys back.

She looks back and the tentacles squeeze around the boys. She withholds a wince- those tentacles are so tight that they might be breaking some ribs there.

But she is more than some creature who thinks that he can take her boys from her. Vecna thinks he's possesive? He hasn't met Nancy Wheeler.

"Deal," she says.

Vecna's face twists into what she thinks approximates a smirk. "When you fail, girl, then you will be trapped here, where I will devour you just as I did the rest of your weak kind." So he's cocky, just as Max described. Fine. Who cares? Nancy's faced far worse.

Nancy smirks right back, though the bandanna covering her mouth disguises the motion. "I won't be seeing you again except to destroy you."

Then she turns on her heel, and without checking to see if the boys are following, she starts walking.

Her feet sink with every step. Her shoes are covered in maroon muck as she squishes through the debris and horror that fills this realm.

But she just focuses on the mixtape playing in her Walkman, one of two copies put together by Jonathan before he and his family went to California. Both her and Steve got a tape, filled with a blend of Jonathan's rock and Steve's pop and her more eclectic tastes.

"Heaven Is A Place On Earth"- one of Steve's favorites- blasts past her ears, fading into "Should I Stay Or Should I Go."

The more she walks, the further away the exit seems, but Nancy keeps going.

Nancy kept going after her best friend died. She fought a demogorgon with these boys. She hunted down monsters with them in the forests when Will was possessed. She fought a gargantuan, Frankenstein chimera of a creature in the mall with these boys on her side, her gun and Steve's car and Jonathan's knife side by side.

Nothing can stop her. Nothing ever has, and nothing ever will.

The mixtape hits the final track- "Someone Saved My Life Tonight," a song Jonathan once told her and Steve was the song that always reminded him of the night they dought the demogorgon together, when Steve came back and saved them both, when all three of them fought together for the first time- and for the first time, the exit seems closer than it did before.

She hits restart on the mixtape as she keeps trudging, refusing to look back.

She falters only once, and only for a second: when she hears a ghostly "Nancy" screamed from behind her, and the sound of someone collapsing.

But she doesn't look back.

If Nancy could face dating two boys in public high school, if she could face introducing them to her parents, if she could face judgement and death and monsters and fucking Vecna, she can resist looking back.

Nancy won't fall for a trap. She refuses to lose these boys.

On the second round of the mixtape, the portal gets big enough to see through. On the other side is Robin and the kids, waiting for her to return. She can see them jumping, little figures in the distance.

Nancy smiles. She keeps walking, keeps trudging, past the point that her joints feel like jelly and her muscles are burning like they've been doused in lava and her head is starting to get dizzy from the lack of normal air and water.

Mind over matter. Willpower over Vecna.

Nancy Wheeler versus the world.

On the third round of the mixtape, the portal becomes close enough to touch.

By the third repeat of "Someone Saved My Life Tonight," Nancy is stumbling past the threshold of the portal, her gunk-covered sneakers finally landing on solid ground, on dry dirt and patchy grass, instead of the muck of Vecna's realm.

But she keeps walking. Past the edge of the spotty lawn, onto the gravelled driveway, and onto the Byers' porch.

Nancy can hear the kids' cheers, Robin's greeting to Steve, Will's tears as he sees Jonathan, but she still doesn't look back. She can't risk it. She doesn't know if the portal has closed.

She stops on the Byers' porch, catching a breath, still staring steadily ahead.

Nancy Wheeler will not look back first. She cannot risk it.

She cannot risk-

A hand softly brushes her right, then another touches her left. Her breath catches in her throat as her boys circle around, their moon-pale faces making themselves known to her craving eyes.

She gets a brief glimpse at them before they engulf her in a hug. Their faces are covered in muck and dirt. Their limbs are bruised. Their clothes are torn.

But Steve and Jonathan are gloriously, wonderfully, imperfectly alive. She did it. She didn't look back. They looked at her before she looked at them.

"You're here," she breathes, voice hoarse from the miles she just walked.

"We're here, Nance," Steve croaks as Jonathan presses a kiss into her sweaty curls. "We're not going to leave again."

"You better not," she orders, but her voice finally cracks. Willpower got her through the worst of this all, helped her survive a supernatural other dimension, but now that she and the boys are safe, she allows herself to break, just a little.

The boys pull her in closer, sensing her fragility, and she lets them. Being vulnerable with Steve and Jonathan is something she long past worrying about. If she can't be vulnerable with the two boys she loves most in the world, then who can she be vulnerable with?

"You three coming in to eat something, or am I going to have to bully you into eating properly?" Joyce asks, eyes bright, and Nancy reluctantly peels back from Steve and Jonathan, who are both looking at her like she hung the moon.

"I'd be up for something to eat and drink," she says.

Joyce clucks her tongue. "Only after you get a shower, kid." She looks to the boys as well, gaze lingering on her elder son for a second longer. "Both of you boys, too."

Nancy grimaces as the feeling of grime caked into every crevice of her body finally makes itself known, out here in the sun and fresh air. "Yeah, I could go for that too." She winks at the guys. "Want to take care of that?"

"Sounds like a good plan," Steve says with one of those lovely, goofy grins of his as he scoops Nancy up in his arms.

Jonathan laughs. "Yeah," he says, nothing but fondness in his voice as he follows them both inside, "I think Mr. Perfect has that handled."

The cacophony and chaos of the Party, Robin, and Eddie follows them into the Byers' little home, but Nancy can't help but smile as she and the boys head for the bathroom. Everyone she loves is safe and sound. That might only be for now, until Vecna takes another victim, but that's enough for her to be happy in this moment.

---

The story is as old as time: a lover embarks on a quest to recover their lost damsel. They fight the monster, rescue the damsel from the tower, and return home to celebrate with family and friend alike.

The myths don't often mention a feast of ramen and freezer-burned broccoli, but when Nancy is freshly showered and changed with her legs in Jonathan's lap as she leans her head against Steve's shoulder, bowl in her lap as she laughs at Steve's antics with the kids, Eddie, and Robin, and exchanges a fond glance with Jonathan, she can't bring herself to care.

This is Nancy Wheeler's story, and she's going to tell it how she wants it to go.

#crossposted on ao3 #stoncy #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #hadestown #orpheus #eurydice #wait for me #angst with a happy ending #canon divergence #rescue missions #polyamory #protective nancy wheeler #stranger things #happy ending #established relationship

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lilith-queen · 2 years

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Apprenticecember 2

Day 19: what is their fighting style?

Rhea doesn’t like to fight unless she really has to, since she used to be a knight, she knows how to sword fight pretty well. In regards to her magic, she has fiery abilities that she can use in the daytime when the sun is out. When she does fight, she uses her wings as an advantage to her opponent. She’ll use them in short bursts, she’s extremely light on her feet already so using her wings gives her more of a boost.

Day 20: What kind of gifts would you write for your mc?

Honestly she’s open to anything, she doesn’t have any preferences for gifts. She likes a nice surprise

Day 21: What gifts would they give?

Rhea would gift something meaningful to the other mc’s. She’s really observant so she knows exactly what they would want, even if it was something they couldn’t remember. If she doesn’t know what to gift them, she’ll usually just make something handmade like a bracelet or necklace, nothing fancy.

Day 22: What does your mc do to show their love?

Rhea is very touchy-feely, when she’s with Muriel, she takes any chance she gets to touch him. Hugs, kisses, or something as small as lightly touching his shoulder is enough for her. She’s very private about showing affection though, she doesn’t like making people feel uncomfortable/awkward. Another thing she likes to do is take interest in what Muriel likes, sometimes they make little figurines together. She and Muriel have this cute thing where she tells him that she’s “his knight in shining armor.”

Day 23: What part of Vesuvia is your mc most likely to be at?

Before the main events of the game, she would mostly spend her time in the market. She likes to look for new foods or clothes that they bring in. Interestingly she also likes to stroll in the forest from time to time when she’s bored. Since being with Muriel, she hasn’t changed much, she still likes going to the market in the morning and strolls in the forest.

Day 24: Does your mc like parties, festivals, and masquerades?

Rhea doesn’t mind going to them if she’s invited, she wouldn’t really go on her own. She’s not that sociable but if someone makes conversation with her she doesn’t mind talking to them. Now if there’s alcohol and she drinks enough, she’ll be the most extroverted person in the room. She’ll even put on a performance and drunkenly sing in front of a crowd, she is surprisingly a good singer. (Muriel likes to watch but usually takes her back home if she’s had too much to drink.)

Day 25: What’s your favorite thing about your mc?

I’m still writing her backstory but so far I think that’s my favorite thing about her, she’s loosely based off my own personal experiences.

Day 26: How has your mc changed since you first made them?

Rhea is actually my newest OC design 😅 design wise she hasn’t changed much, I’m still writing her as a character so hopefully she progresses nicely.

Day 27: Has your mc killed someone?

When she was young and still involved in the church, the archbishop threatened to burn her at the stake for practicing witchcraft. So many years of pent up anger and frustration released in that moment, she impulsively unleashed her flames on him and severely scarred him. While she didn’t kill him, she did run away and became a fugitive to her kingdom. While she didn’t like him, she deeply regrets using her magic and never uses it to hurt people. As for her thoughts on murder, she knows about Muriel’s past and she doesn’t blame him for it.

Day 28: Are they afraid to die?

I mean, Rhea has already died once so dying again can’t be that bad right? Khamgalai seemed to enjoy the afterlife so she’s not too worried about it.

Day 29: What is a fact about your mc others would never guess?

Some random ones are

She knows how to fluently speak Spanish

She knows how to play guitar

She used to cremate bodies during the plague

#apprenticember #the arcana oc #the arcana game #apprentice oc #muriel the arcana #asra alnazar #nadia satrivana #julian devorak

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gothprentiss · 2 years

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hi & fuck it post fic wip

“If he feels too sick to commit to a call, how’s he going to take care of our children?”

Emily recalls that day in Miami. The same expression on JJ’s face: adrift, vulnerable, pensive, hurt. She’d thought about intervening then. She could have been the one to run to Will, just to tell him to scrap his dumb animal theory of behavior, desire, and family. You think SHE’s being irrational? She’s the only one looking at the world with clear eyes. She knows what this means for her. You only know what it means for your fantasies of the future.

“He probably thinks it’s better if it’s not both of you feeling the way he does,” she says, as mildly as she can. JJ’s eyebrows furrow in defensive annoyance and she thinks she might have gone too mild. “Besides— soup, vegetables, sandwiches? You know Henry can manage all of that for a bit.”

“Yeah,” says JJ. She stares at Emily’s kitchen counter for a second, and once more her voice constricts. “Yeah.”

“I know you hate not being able to be there for them,” Emily says gently. “But letting them feel like they’re keeping you safe is important to them.”

“I’ve been away longer before,” says JJ, flat and hollow. “They’ve been fine.”

It wouldn’t be Will and JJ if there weren’t layers to peel delicately back. Someday, Emily thinks, she’ll get to the core, and see if it’s rotten or not.

“Sit down,” she says, waving JJ over to a bar stool. JJ assents with the docility of the defeated, perching her elbows on the marble countertop, wincing as her bare skin makes contact with its cold surface. “Tell me what else you’re upset about.”

She flinches. The cold flush is gone from her face, leaving only her eyes red and puffy. “I—” JJ sighs, then, and drops her head, resting her forehead in the crooks of her arms. Her fingers curl into fists, then release.

The facile read here is that this is the defensive posture of a boxer, the body seeking its hardwired position of power where no other control can be found. But JJ isn’t frantic with worry— the boys are fine, and Will’s clearly well enough to assert himself, otherwise JJ would be at her own house right now. She’s calm, alert; the defeat she’s all but announcing to the world seems neither immediate nor alarming. When JJ said the boys have been fine without her for longer before— it could just be the fear of irrelevance in her own family. Go or stay, no difference. But no— no, she wouldn’t be here, even then, even to hide her hurt.

“He’s panicking,” JJ says finally. “And when he panics, it’s like— there’s nothing in the world except how afraid he is, and nothing else matters. And, you know, I don’t get to panic.”

Emily nods. There’s not much else to do except to be present. JJ opens up like she doesn’t know opening up is a metaphor. You can practically see two heavy iron doors unbolting in her mind.

“I love him, you know. But tell me why I feel like I have to say that now— like it’s not obvious, or like it might not be true—”

“Do you feel like you’re betraying him?”

“God, no,” says JJ. There’s a distant look in her eyes, like a process of realization is happening just over the horizon, as she turns her face to stare just past Emily’s. “I feel like he’s betrayed me.”

“Because he’s too wrapped up in his own fear to think about yours.”

“No. Yes. No— maybe. I don’t know.”

It’s not like JJ’s relationship hasn’t been tumultuous. Will has always had that particular big-town cop tenacity, the kind of hard-nosed stubbornness you only get by having your nose rubbed in the gravel of life’s uncontrollability every day you live it. Leaving New Orleans must have felt like a plum opportunity to build a stable, orderly life. This, in turn, has dulled his particular analytical acumen: the fact that violent pathologies of mind can also be uncontrollable forces of nature which ravage their respective communities has never managed to occur to him. An unsub might as well just be a mugger, as far as he’s concerned. Out of sight, out of mind; there will always be someone else to chase them down, someone more willing to tolerate the risks associated with the job.

Emily has a certain sympathy for this particular aspect of Will’s viewpoint, which she’s decided never to express to JJ. He’s not right, but it’s a wonderful thing to be able to prioritize the way that he does. It makes him, as far as she can tell, happy in his marriage in a way that is complacent and assured.

JJ, on the other hand, wouldn’t know complacency if it slapped her upside the head with an Employee of the Year plaque.

#it's not jemily REALLY despite that being the vibe

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misscrazyfangirl321 · 2 years

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consider: a twist on snow white au where Helen and her 6 'dwarves' (Bigfoot, Henry, Ashley, maybe Scott, James, and, uh. Someone else.) take in Will, who's fleeing from some evil?

His feet ache from running, but he doesn’t dare stop. Not even with his chest tight, his breaths coming in short bursts, and his stomach wailing in protest. How long has it been since he’s eaten? A day? two?

But they’ll find him. He knows it. If he gives into the exhaustion weighing him down, he’ll find himself captured, and his family will be lost forever.

He doesn’t remember passing out, but he must have, because eventually he comes to. He’s in a small, dark room, lying under a thin blanket. When he goes to sit up, pain shoots through him, and the room spins.

“Easy now,” a voice says from the shadows, gentle but firm. A woman’s voice, he notes absently, and not an accent from his kingdom. In fact, she sounds more like the men who attacked than anything. She doesn’t into the light, and though he squints, he can only make out the most vague of shapes. “Take your time. There’s water by your bedside.”

There is, it turns out; it’s in a small wooden cup, and he sips it slowly, warily. Is he a captive? If so, this isn’t much of a cell. Still, he’s not altogether sure he’s strong enough to escape. But he has to try. His family-

“You’re perfectly safe.” Right, completely convincing. “Did your father send you after me?”

His father. A man who will be dead in three day’s time, if Will doesn’t come up with some sort of plan. (Or rather, three days from when he last remembers. He can only hope he hasn’t been unconscious for too long.)

“Lady, I don’t even know who you are,” he mutters. His mother’s voice echoes in his mind, scolding him for being rude, but he cannot bring himself to care. “So if I’m not a prisoner, I think I’ll just-”

“I wouldn’t advise that.”

He ignores her, setting down the water and pushing off the covers. He rises to his feet.... Only for his legs to immediately give out beneath him. It’s more than a little mortifying, and he braces for impact, but none comes. Somehow she’s right there, catching him, steadying him and guiding him back to bed. He tries to look back at her, but the angle isn’t quite right, and his neck aches in protest.

“You need food,” she says firmly. “And rest. You won’t be going far in this state.”

“But I have to. I have to get my family back.”

She pauses for a long moment. “Your family?”

The genuine surprise in her voice catches him off-guard. Word should have spread to all the neighboring kingdoms by now. “We were attacked. Captured. I managed to escape, and if I don’t find a way to save them, she’ll kill them.”

“Who will?” There’s something careful in her voice, now. She still hasn’t released him, though he’s sitting on the bed once more, and he gets the feeling it’s mostly to keep him from looking back at her.

Ignoring how weird it feels to stare at the wall when he talks, he replies, “Queen Evelyn.”

Her hands fall from his shoulders abruptly. “I-I hadn’t heard. Perhaps when Henry returns, he’ll-forgive me, Will. I had no idea.”

Okay, who is this woman? Finally free to move, he turns to face her, relieved to find that she hasn’t retreated to the shadows. Relief quickly gives way to bafflement as he makes out the figure before him.

“Snow White?”

She grimaces. “My name is Helen, and I’ll thank you to call me it.” Shaking her head, she continues, “I truly had no idea my stepmother was planning an attack of that scale. We’re a bit isolated from everything out here.”

A bit isolated? “I thought you were dead?”

Unexpectedly, she smiles. It’s a bit dry, but still, it’s-it’s nice. “That’s rather the idea. Fewer people try to kill me when I’m already dead.”

That’s a fair point. “You think the bandits would come after you again?”

“Bandits?” She frowns disapprovingly, though her eyes are light. “Come now, Will. You’re smarter than that. Especially with everything you’ve been through recently.”

The implications take a long second. “Are you saying your stepmother tried to have you killed?”

“Hm. Had she sent a less-honorable assassin after me, she might have succeeded.”

Will isn’t altogether sure there was such a thing as an honorable assassin, but he also isn’t overly interested in unpacking that at the moment. If this woman really is Princess Snow-er, Princess Helen, she knows her way around the palace where his family is being kept.

Leaning forward, he holds her gaze. “Will you help me? My family needs me. That is... If they’re even still alive.”

It’s a lot to ask of a complete stranger; if she helps him, and Queen Evelyn finds out, there’s a good chance she’ll die.

She only hesitates for a single second.

“I’ll do everything in my power to help you save them, William.”

#helen magnus #will zimmerman #the others are there i promise but. i had to focus on the them.#tried not to make it toooo shippy for you #but #the them #sanctuary #answered #thanks for the ask!#lattes of love #my fics #my writing #mine

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your-wisteria-grows · 2 years

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Midnights Tour Dream Setlist

(Operating on the assumption that there will be a tour, and that it will be Midnights focused... not sure why it wouldn’t be if there it existed, but you never know, with all the new music Taylor has put out in the last 3 years)

As far as I can tell, her setlists range from 16-19 songs, and given that her success has risen quite substantially since reputation, and the fact that there are 3 other albums since then which won’t get their own tours, I can see her possibly having one or two extra songs added to the 19 for reputation. That said, I know nothing about the planning of big tours and the logistics involved. bonus points if those 2 extra songs are done for an encore - why hasn’t she done those since Speak Now???

Here comes the clownery...

Probably one song from the album tracklist will be left out (as was the case with both 1989 and reputation), so that makes 13 songs from the Midnights Deluxe.

That leaves us with 6, potentially 8 extra songs for her to play. Especially since most of the songs on Midnights will be on the shorter side due to the standard edition being only 1LP, I am leaning towards 8.

Given her extensive discography, I can see her doing mashups of older songs, like she did several times on rep. We’ll probably see Love Story and/or WANEGBT in this capacity. Not sure about any music from albums she hasn’t re recorded, mainly because of the fact there are so many other songs she’s released that haven’t ever been performed, and it helps to eliminate some of her discography right off the bat

I would love to see Cruel Summer. I think she knows by now that this fandom is dying to have a live performance of Cruel Summer, and even just imagining seeing it live gives me goosebumps. I would be very surprised if it wasn’t included.

I have a feeling that we could get ME! or YNTCD, maybe a mashup of the two to save a slot, and also given that those are singles but not very well received ones

There’s got to be at least one folklore and evermore song each. My first thought for those would be cardigan and willow, again because they are singles, but maybe she does a mashup of those as well, like at the Grammys?

She’ll almost definitely have a surprise song slot again, to be able to perform more songs from folkmore

And here’s where my predictions start really moving into dream territory...

If I could have 1 more song from both albums, though I’m not sure the likelihood of this, I would literally lay down and die if she played champagne problems. I think the whole audience would simply perish and she would watch on and smile. evilly. I can also very much see her playing august though, and that would be so fun

IBYTAM got a music video and was basically a single from Red (Taylor’s Version). If we get any vault songs (other than ATW10, which i’ll talk about in a sec), I would LOVE to hear this live. Absolutely iconic.

I can see her playing Mr. Perfectly Fine, since I think that did well with the GP and definitely did well with fans, and I personally would love to see that live

I keep going back and forth on whether I think she’ll do ATW10, since it’s so long, but then again it would do perfectly for a time killer in between sets. just picture this: just her on guitar, the whole stadium screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs... maybe waving light up wristbands... sounds pretty fucking magical

so, my setlist (in no particular order):

1-13 - Midnights Album 14 - Love Story mashup ? 15 - Cruel Summer 16 - ME! and/or YNTCD (or something) 17 - cardigan/willow 18 - surprise song 19 - IBYTAM

bonus: (if i had my way) 20 - Mr Perfectly Fine 21 - champagne problems/august

BONUS bonus All Too Well 10 Minute Version

Here’s where I get really greedy... I recently went to the Gorillaz on tour. They’ve got a lot of albums and a lot of music to choose from. Their setlist was 28 songs, which averages out to be 4 hours long (omfg). Florence + the Machine’s average setlist for Dance Fever is 23 songs, and she’s got 5 or so albums out. All this to say... if i could choose even MORE songs for her to perform...

I would LOVE The Very First Night, False God, Paper Rings, Death by a Thousand Cuts, Daylight, even Message in A Bottle, which, in terms of vault tracks, has probably the more of a chance compared to TVFN, considering the promotion its gotten in movies like Superpets, and I’ve heard it several times in retail stores (including my work yay)

anyways if you read through this whole thing, thanks for putting up with my rambling! let me know your thoughts!! what would everyone else die to hear on tour?

#taylor swift #midnights #midnights tour #i'm manifesting it

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writer86 · 5 months

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More adventures with Selene Windcaller coming up!

Getting out of the first room turns out to be easy - there’s only one door. The next appears to be a workspace of some sort, complete with a desk and a number of rune slates, one of which contains the schematics for the Nautloid itself - as much living being as ship.

Selene finds it odd to be fascinated by her surroundings, but she can’t help herself. This is uncharted territory where she’s concerned, and that’s become a much rarer find with nearly six hundred years behind her. She knows she should be moving more quickly, but…

We are here - here! We are trapped. Help us! Release us!

A gentle, frightened voice calls out, and Selene will answer. But what she finds on the second level comes as something of a surprise:

Yes! You’ve come to save us from this place, from this place you’ll free us!

*The exposed brain quivers in expectation.*

Please, before they return. They return.

[Intelligence: Arcana] Fail.

Selene is utterly baffled as she studies the sight before her; has she ever heard of a creature like this before? If she has, it’s been so long she’s forgotten it.

“Who am I talking to - a man or a brain?” she wonders aloud.

The creature answers within her mind, and she dimly realizes that’s how it’s been speaking this whole time: A newborn. Born new from this husk.

That, Selene decides, answers a question and raises a new one: the man she hoped to help is dead - but what of this creature? Admittedly, the chances of finding something docile and friendly on an Illithid Nautloid seems… unlikely. Still, she must ask:

“You sound afraid. Why?”

It answers: The enemy. So many enemies.

Which doesn’t do much to clarify if the creature itself is friend or foe. With a faint sigh, she presses, “I think you’re past the point of saving. Tell me what to do.”

Remove us from this body - from this case free us. Please!

Selene has carried out a number of very strange conversations in her time on Toril, but this, she thinks must certainly rank among the strangest. She is speaking to… a brain with a mind of its own? And it wants to be free. How exactly it can live apart from its former host, she isn’t sure, but if there’s a way…

[Investigation] Inspect the exposed brain. Success.

*You notice oedema - a swelling of the brain causing pressure where it strains against the shell of the skull.*

[Medicine] Attempt a cerebral extraction, staying mindful of the swelling. Success.

*The brain lifts from the skull, but you notice an opportunity - you could cripple the strange creature, making it more subservient should it prove a threat.*

Admittedly, the thought does cross Selene’s mind - she doesn’t know what this thing is, not exactly. But she’s helped it along this far - she may as well see what comes of it now.

Spare the creature - any injuries might weaken it.

Thus far, it seems to be the right choice. The brain falls to the ground, then sprouts legs and tendrils. She stares at it, curious to know what it will do next. It does not disappoint.

Our freedom is ours. Friend!

She never thought a brain could be so adorable, but then -

*The creature pauses, listening. Something behind your eye seizes in recognition.*

So it is an Illithid creature, she realizes with a start. She’s about ready to attack when it speaks again: We must go to the helm. At the helm we are needed.

Curious. The creature does not regard her as a threat in spite of the fact that she should be. Not a threat: friend. And a needed one, at that.

“What’s at the helm?”

*The brain tenses, as though querying an unseen advisor.*

Do you not hear it? We will not survive here. We are needed to navigate - we are needed to leave this realm.

Selene doubts she’d know what to do once she got there, but perhaps the brain has a clearer idea that she ever will. Admittedly, it is a newborn. Then again, in a way, so is she, with the tadpole now stuck firmly behind her eye. Perhaps she’ll experience a fit of clarity when they reach the helm.

“What should I call you?” she asks.

Us. We are us.

It’s about as clear as anything else it’s said. She nods firmly and says, “All right. Let’s go.”

Us is excited about that: To the helm we go! We are going to the helm!

#Writer plays Baldur's Gate 3 #OC: Selene Windcaller #tw: body horror #tw: brains #I did NOT expect Selene to get to keep Us y'all #She's 100% down for putting down anything that's NOT GOOD #And as an illithid creature Us qualifies #aaaaaaand then she biffed the Arcana check to know what Us is #and here we are :)

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mothicalspoken · 2 years

Text

She’s shaking. That’s the first thing Anne and Sasha really notice about her, once she starts waking up, other than the fact that she’s even waking up at all. The fluttering behind her eyelids is accompanied with the fluttering in her breath, as if she’s cold, or sick, or practically any one of those options that would undoubtedly not bode well for someone whose immune system is most likely being held together with thread. She curls into herself, like one might do when they know even in the vestiges of sleep that the outside world is harsher than the one behind their eyes, and so Sasha and Anne reach out to her.

Whispers are passed in that small room where they had carried her off the battlefield- really, Anne had insisted on doing it, and Sasha let her, because it was Anne who had lived without the knowledge that Marcy was even going to be revived in the first place for a month and a half. “She’s so light. It seems like she weighs nothing,” Anne had said, tucking Marcy’s head into the crook between her neck and shoulder as she carried her. “It’s… really worrying. But I can see her breathing. She’s still alive.”

“Marce, open your eyes. You’re safe. It’s okay,” Sasha assures the other girl, holding her hand between both of hers, even as it quivers. “We’re right here. We’re not going anywhere.”

All Anne wants to do now is hold Marcy, hold her in her arms and lay her against her chest as if her warmth could somehow shake off the shivering. But she can’t. Not until she knows what’s real and what’s not. Not until she opens her eyes.

Marcy makes some kind of discontented noise and tries to pull her hand away from Sasha’s. It doesn’t work quite as easily as she hoped, but Sasha releases her anyways, lets her curl even more into herself. It stings, watching how she doesn’t recognize their touch anymore.

“Perhaps we should just… wait,” Anne offers, tucking a stray strand of Marcy’s hair behind her ear, slowly and carefully, trying to offer some semblance of kindness Marcy could believe in. “She’ll wake up when she’s ready.”

Sasha leans against Anne’s shoulder. “I sure hope so.”

Anne takes Sasha’s hand, and presses a small kiss to her knuckles.

—-

A dry, weak cough is what awakens Anne from her very uncomfortable position by Marcy’s bedside. Her knees are screaming at her for kneeling on stone for… how long has it been? Not important. Sasha is up immediately as well, and there’s Marcy, rattling and wheezing with her eyes closed.

Anne tries not to think of the aftereffects. She tries not to think of glowing yellow light, apologies, the eye looking back at her as she stared at her friend who was no longer inhabiting her own body. She tries not to think of blood, and infected wounds, and what happens if you are impaled with a giant firey sword.

“She needs water,” Sasha says sharply, and frog why hadn’t they thought of that before? Marcy’s probably been dehydrated for far, far beyond what a human body should be able to stand. Of course she needs water. Sasha gets up to fetch some, and Anne eases herself onto Marcy’s thin mattress, trying to figure out the best course of action.

Do they have straws?…

“Marce, hey…” Anne whispers. She touches Marcy’s shoulder, shakes it as gently as possible. It feels like Marcy is made of porcelain, despite how strong she is in spirit. She’s survived this long, but the least Anne can do is make her survival a little more bearable. “Can you sit up for me, please?”

“Wh…” Another cough wrenches it’s way out of her throat. Her eyes open halfway. And oh frog, her voice sounds so small, so… scared. And tired. And really, really raspy. Anne wants to cradle her face between her hands so badly, if only to support her, as if it’d make all of Marcy’s fear and exhaustion disappear. “Where… am I now?…”

“You’re at the base of the rebellion. In a cave. Underground. Did you know there was a rebellion?…” Anne asks, whilst drawing Marcy to sit up, slowly. The other girl leans into her as she does so, not having enough strength to even keep herself upright. Anne puts an arm around her waist to steady her. Every time Marcy exhales, shivers run down the length of her body, making her breath shaky.

Anne presses the back of her hand to Marcy’s forehead. It’s not even warm.

Marcy’s silent for a moment, either very sleepy or contemplating. And then she raises her head, and looks up at Anne through drooping eyelids, and then her hand is suddenly grasping Anne’s shirt desperately. It takes Anne by surprise- her senses go on high alert as she turns all her attention to Marcy.

“Anne?” She whispers. She sounds like she might just break into a million pieces, the voice of someone who has been tricked too many times into believing into a false semblance of comfort. The grip on her shirt increases. “You’re-“

“It’s me,” Anne whispers, smiling, drawing a hand up to Marcy’s cheek. And that’s all it takes for the former prodigy to shatter.

Marcy inhales sharply, and the next moment she’s sobbing, back shuddering with every breath she tries to gasp. Anne quickly turns to hold her, whispering little words of affirmation as she runs a hand through her hair. She’s crying so hard, she can’t even speak, although she tries, and Anne can’t blame her for the outpouring of emotion, especially not after everything she’s been through. She can’t imagine what it must have been like, to die and wake up and die again, trapped in a prison of her own mind, knowing something else was piloting her body for her and evidently also stealing her personality.

She’s got little lines of bruising and blood across her face from where the helmet was, Anne thinks offhandedly. She makes a note to take care of that later, somehow.

It’s at that moment that Sasha walks into the room, not only with a heaping glass of water, but also with a tray of crackers. An expression of relief flashes across her face for just a second, before it quickly turns to exasperated concern.

“Oh my god! She’s going to lose even more fluids that way! Damn it, Boonchuy-“ Sasha quickly sets the tray down on a nearby table with a flourish and runs over. “Marcy-“

Marcy attempts to push herself away from Anne, just a bit, so she can get a good luck at the frantic blonde in front of her. “S… Sashy?…” she croaks. She smiles and the tears start up even harder.

“Oh— shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay-“ Sasha bends down and attempts to wipe away her tears, one hand on either side of Marcy’s face. Marcy lets out a series of weak, raspy laughs, her entire body quivering. “We’ve got you. We’re here now- do you think you can stop crying for a moment so that we can get some actual water into you?”

“Deep breaths,” Anne instructs gently. “Follow my lead?”

She sets Marcy’s hand right over her collarbone and breathes in.

It takes some time, but eventually Marcy gets the hang of it. Her gasps turn into shaky, out of time breaths until they finally fall in line and both Anne and Sasha are holding her on either side as she breathes, resting against Anne’s shoulder.

“That’s my girl,” Sasha says proudly, tousling her hair. “I’m gonna go get your water now.”

She hands the glass to Anne, and Anne holds it to Marcy’s lips. It’s surprising how Marcy just… accepts the way Anne gently tells her to drink. Before, she definitely would have insisted she was strong enough to do it, before spilling water all over herself, back before… well, everything. Back when things were simpler, and the most Anne had to worry about was her parents finding out about her grades or the latest mishap Sasha had gotten them into. Anne doesn’t know whether it’s a mark of the possession, or a sign of trust.

Marcy finishes the glass easily. Sasha offers the crackers, but Marcy shakes her head, and she might be smiling but she still looks bone-tired, the long sleep and water not doing anything to lessen the dark circles under her eyes. Not to mention she was sobbing uncontrollably minutes before. She closes her eyes, and leans into Anne’s embrace.

“You wanna take another nap?” Anne asks. Sasha sits down next to Marcy, and rubs small circles between her shoulder blades. Anne notices she’s barely pressing down, and it’s not a mystery as to why. In fact, a bit of scar tissue still pokes out from under Marcy’s shirt collar. Better not to disturb the area too much. It’s only been a couple of months, and the fact that her spine is (somehow) still intact is a miracle.

Marcy nods and reaches out to grasp at both Anne and Sasha’s hands.

“Yeah…” she murmurs. There’s a long pause before she continues, almost as if she’s scared of what she’s about to say. “…stay?…” she asks, in a voice so quiet you’d think the very word was forbidden.

There’s a certain lang inside Anne’s chest when she hears that one- if she knew, if she had a choice, back then she would have jumped right out of that portal and held Marcy as closely as she’s doing now. Even if it wouldn’t save her, at least she wouldn’t be alone.

“Of course.”

The arrangement falls into place without much fuss, agreed upon silently. It’s the natural order of things; Sasha on one side, Anne on the other, Marcy held between them, protected against anything and everything else looking to hurt her. It’s not perfect. They’re not perfect-and maybe they’ll never be, not with all the mistakes and betrayals and hurt they’ve subjected eachother to, the memories that still linger in the back of their minds.

But it is a start.

And when they wake up, they’ll try again.

#Hooooo boy this was longer than I thought it’d be #might post it to ao3 ngl #This was meant to be a short sickfic Drabble and then it turned into this lol #these kids love eachother so much I am telling you #Amphibia #it’s just a bunch of comfort honestly #Sasha Waybright #Anne boonchuy #Marcy wu #My writing #Let Marcy be taken care of!!! Hello!!!

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weepingvoidpenguin · 3 years

Text

One of Your Favorites

Jealous Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have an objective. Get Rumlow to confess. Simple enough, right? No. Aside from his usual condescending attitude towards you, Bucky has made it extremely apparent that he doesn’t think you’re capable of - well, anything, but especially not handling Rumlow. And yet, he is the biggest challenge of this entire ordeal.

Warning: T R I G G E R WARNING!! ATTEMPTED SA, DRUGS, language, light smut. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT READ IF SA WILL TRIGGER YOU.

Word Count: 8.3k

“We have good intel stating he’s working as a double agent for HYDRA. Selling information, exploiting tactics, even going so far as to tell them where we’ll be and when.” Natasha scanned the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention during the briefing.

You slouched back in your swivel chair and twisted to-and-fro slightly with your hands gripping the arm rests on either side. It took all of your willpower to act engrossed in her words. And you meant every single drop. You’d been paying attention, sure, but the only issue was the dominating presence two seats to your right and directly in your line of sight to Natasha. You rolled your chair to the left to clear the path for the third time, only for him to block your way without missing a beat. The growl that left your mouth was nearly involuntary. Nearly.

How long would this man act like a child? Despite his graceful and seemingly unsuspecting movements, you were fully aware his placement was intentional. This was not the first, nor did you doubt that it would be the last, time that Bucky acted impudently toward you. Frankly, you’d grown bored of his behavior. It was the same thing everyday. He would act a nuisance during the briefings, speak over you whenever he had the chance, steal the limelight from you and invalidate any concerns or thoughts you shared. The whole charade grew tiring and he had been dancing on thin ice for months now.

You averted your gaze from burning holes through the freshly washed, brown locks and switched your attention back up to the redhead. Thankfully, too, because you managed to catch the end of her sentence just as she locked eyes with you.

“And that’s why Y/N is going to be the one to extract the information from him,” she finished.

You blinked, “Wait, what?”

Bucky straightened his posture and threw a quick glance your way, “Yeah, what? She’s got no heat, couldn’t toast marshmallows if we gave her all day. She shouldn’t lead this, she wouldn’t know how,”

“Well, tonight might be a good time to start learning, then,” Steve chimed in, throwing a wink your way. You smiled and appreciated his aid, not because you needed it but because at this point, you were seething and if you opened your mouth to defend yourself this meeting would go south, quickly. Luckily, Steve always believed you were capable of a great deal of things and knew you strove for more experience so any opportunity to lead or expand was one he thought you should take.

“Besides,” Tony spoke up, twirling a platinum pen between his fingers from across the table, “our little double-agent has always had the hots for Y/N so unless you’re gonna be the one to bat your eyelashes at him and get him alone in a room, Mr. Barnes, we have to use his own flaws against him.” He turned to face you and held up a hand, “Not to say that liking you is a flaw, you’re great Hot-Stuff but exploiting him is our best option indefinitely,”

“Do I have to seduce him?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and raising a brow towards Nat, trying your damned hardest to avoid the unmistakable glare the brown-haired super soldier was sending your way.

“The only thing you have to do is extract any information on him that you can. Get him a little drunk, catch him in a slip-up or two, take note of any inconsistent stories and be on your merry way,” she reassured, “How you manage to do that is up to you,”

“Ooh, extortion,” Clint chirped up from the far back corner, his hands rubbing together maliciously around an arrow he pulled from his sheathe, something you noticed he did a lot when he was uninterested; be it a person, mission, or conversation.

“No. Not extortion,” Steve shut it down and you chuckled at how Clint’s countenance fell into one of disappointment.

“Not yet anyway,” Natasha mumbled and you sighed as she walked around the room and handed each of you a folder with your individual objectives inside.

“But he’s such a pervert,” you grumbled.

“All the easier,”

The rest of the day was drudged with Nat while she taught the pertinence of body language (both yours and theirs), verbal ruses, and overall ensnarement. You bat your eyelashes until you were certain you would catch enough wind to fly away, smirked enough that your cheeks began to ache and raised your eyebrows ‘til you felt the impending wrinkles on your forehead. By the end of the drill you weren’t sure you were even going to make it to the company party from the migraine creeping its way on.

“How’s the bait coming along?” His voice alone caused you to roll your eyes but you paid no mind while you rubbed at your temples and stood up alongside Natasha.

“She’s not gonna be able to lie to me any time soon but she can flirt her way to whatever she wants,”

“Benefits of targeting a narcissistic misogynist, they don’t think anyone can fool them.” Tony belted as he sauntered into the room with strawberries, offering them out to you while he munched on one.

“She’ll still mess it up,” Bucky countered, “Make someone else do it,”

You plucked the fruit off Tony’s tray and examined it, trying to figure out whether you were going to consume it or use it as a weapon.

“I really appreciate your words of encouragement, James. Unfortunately, they’re not wanted, nor are they needed.” You bit into the fruit and glided towards the door, looking over your shoulder at the super soldier, “So unless you actually have something to contribute, I suggest you stay the hell out of my way while I get the job done,”

Nat walked out behind you and handed you a tiny, skin-colored device meant to conceal itself and you placed it in your ear.

“The conversation is gonna be recorded so we can catch any inconsistencies. We’ll all be able to hear what you’re saying so tread on delicate waters but don’t be afraid to shake mountains if you have to,”

You nodded and opened your door for her to enter your room knowing she’d want to help you get ready for the event. Natasha, shocking as it turns out, enjoys company while preparing for events. She would much prefer to be surrounded by people than be alone. You never had gall to ask her why that is. Or maybe you respected her too much to ask.

An hour had passed, maybe two, but you enjoyed the silence between you both. There was no need to fill the empty quiet when it was so comfortable and welcoming. You two spoke without words at times and that was probably your favorite personal skill. Eventually, there came a knock on your door and you opened to find Wanda with her flat iron and make-up bag in tow. It’d long since been decided that your room was the gathering center.

Wanda helped you finish touching up your outfit and you waited on your bed while they finished getting ready. Nat occasionally quizzed you on certain situations and how you should act depending on the tones and moods of the conversation. You tried to explain that you didn’t have difficulty reading a room but Nat tested you all the same.

“And if he puts his hand on your thigh?” She called out from your bathroom.

“Then he loses it,” you practically sang in response.

You were met with a flying hairbrush and laughed at the onslaught.

“You’re not the only one with that mentality,” Wanda called out as well, her iron glossing over thin strands of hair.

“Nat knows I can handle myself.” You sat up on the bed and went over to your closet to collect your favorite pair of shoes to go along with the formal attire Nat selected for tonight. “What a coincidence that we happen to have a company party the same night we have to extract information,” you hollered over your shoulder, moving aside terribly worn shoes while you scoured for the pair you had in mind.

“This objective has been in the works for weeks now,” Nat released the tendril of hair from around the barrel and pinned it to her head so it could cool.

“Wow, thanks for the heads up, then.” You gripped the desired pair and placed them beside your nightstand for later.

“The plan wasn’t solid until we knew for a fact that Rumlow was coming. It’s a company party so it’s not mandatory but once he heard you were making an appearance, it didn’t take very much persuading,”

You rolled your eyes and plopped back down on your mattress, “He’s so annoying, I doubt I can hold much of a conversation with him,”

“Take a shot or two to ease your nerves, if he sees you drinking it’ll put him at ease too. He’ll be more inclined to drink,” Natasha recommended. “But don’t act too out of character. If you were always curt and short with him and suddenly you start acting over-friendly, he may get suspicious. He’s an idiot but he’s a paranoid one,”

You nodded, taking a mental note to have a half-empty bottle in your grasp when Rumlow arrives. If he thinks you’ve already been drinking, he might also consider catching up.

“Y/N? Not uptight for once?” Wanda sarcastically questioned. “I can’t picture it,”

“Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled and in turn received laughter from the two girls. “Besides, of all of us I’m by far the least uptight. Barnes takes the cake for that one,”

There was a beat of silence that you didn’t register before you were met with a response.

“Ya know, he’s not as bad as you paint him out to be.” Nat unpinned the curl from her head and moved on to the next section, “He’s got some serious loyalty and always willing to volunteer first for everything,”

You lifted your head to stare at her reflection through the mirror, “What are you talking about? He’s annoying and irate and lacks a filter,”

“Mmm, irate isn’t the word I would use,” Wanda countered, looking over to Natasha.

Nat shook her head in response, “I’d lean more towards . . . over-protective,”

“Much better,” Wanda agreed.

You squinted your eyes at their image and felt the corners of your lips turn downwards, “Over-protective? Since when are you two defending Barnes?”

“We’re not defending him, per say.” Wanda glanced over to Nat, “We’re just trying to give you a fresh perspective,”

“You could give me a brand new pair of eyes and I’d still see him the same,” you retorted, now leaning on your elbows due to the strain on your neck.

They ignored the comment, “And he’s only annoying to you,”

“You’re telling me he doesn’t annoy you at all?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

“More like . . . he doesn’t go out of his way to mess with us.” Nat applied a nude color onto her lips.

“So you agree that he goes out of his way to irritate me,” you stated rather than asked.

“That’s been made very apparent,” Wanda responded. “But you have to wonder why,”

You huffed a little and sprawled back out on the bed just to result in staring at the ceiling above. If you looked hard enough your mind would create pictures from the chaos of the cracks and shapes began to form. Sometimes, when the night lay still and life seemed to dwindle at the edges of your reality, you could swear a familiar face fashioned together and your imagination ran wild with the images you’d see. Some that brought a warmth to your cheeks even now.

You shot up out of bed and shook the memories from your vision. Ugh. He haunts you even when he’s not actively tormenting you. How he’s managed to crawl his way so deeply within your skin you had no idea but you fought for control of your thoughts whenever you caught them slipping into that hellhole.

“Or slipping into euphoria,” Wanda chimed in.

“Wanda!” You scolded, crossing your arms, “Euphoria my ass,”

“Yeah, he thinks so too,” she continued and you chucked the abandoned hairbrush back their way.

“Stay out of my head,” you jokingly sniped at her but was met with a low chuckle.

“I didn’t even have to be in your head to know what you were thinking of,” Nat defended and caught your weapon of choice.

“Are you guys done yet?” You rolled your eyes and stretched yourself out before swiping up the pair of heels you’d chosen and sliding them onto your feet.

“Why? Are you in a hurry to see a certain someone?” Natasha teased and Wanda let out an eruption of laughter.

“All right, I’m done.” You made a beeline for the door and threw it open, “Lock up when you’re finished!” You bellowed over your shoulder and made your way to the top floor of the building where all the parties are typically held.

You didn’t run into anyone on the way up and you used that time to calm yourself, prying inch by inch away from the invasive thoughts that called for you in the darkest hours of the night. But, then again, maybe those tormenting thoughts weren’t that bad? You mean, he certainly IS handsome, very much so actually. And he has the most knee-wobbling smirk you’d ever come to know, not to mention those little tricks he does with his knives always manage to entrance you. God, did he know how to use a knife.

On more than one occasion had you caught yourself staring at how his hands encapsulated the hilt of the blade. How they clenched and relaxed, drawing out some of the more prominent veins on one of the extremities; of course, you were even more so enticed by the hand he hid as well. You’d imagined what it felt like to have such strong hands grip onto your thighs and coax you into spreading them open with just a few teasing touches here and there. You couldn’t fathom the front you’d put up would last very long, he was stellar at pulling reactions from you. He’d see you break under his caresses and he’d degrade you like he always did but this time it’d emit a different response from you, one that made you whimper and shake. At that, he’d probably call you a good girl, he definitely seems the type to switch between degradation and praise, and would press his mouth up just where you wanted it the most. You’d try your hardest to be quiet but damn the way that tongue moved against you and the way he’d pull you harder against his face at each sound of pleasure you let slip past your lips. He’d enjoy it, too. Eyes closed as he devours you, he likes to put on a show for you to watch. Give you a memory that’ll slick your thighs later that night if he hadn’t fucked you into a coma by then. He’d make you watch him and if you dared to close your eyes you’d earn a firm, cold smack on your ass. He knows you like when he uses temperature play. He growls a little too, he can’t help his innate behavior. Then, just as the accumulation is coming to its apex he’d pull away abruptly and kiss you straight on your mouth so you can taste yourself and that’d earn him another whimper which would result in another smack that leads to that cold metal trailing its way to your core and just as he pushes the tip of his finger inside-

You cough and straighten your posture as the elevator door opens. When had you leaned up against the back wall of the elevator? Oh Gods, you could feel the slick at the apex of your thighs and you squeezed them together as inconspicuously as you could in fear that you were producing a . . . scent that would be rather difficult to conceal. But the slick only grew worse when you locked eyes with the person stepping into the elevator.

Fuck.

“That’s what you chose to wear?” He asked, a certain venom in his tone that immediately calmed the ache in your heat.

“And what would you have me wear instead, Barnes?” You quipped back, your body facing forward as he took his place beside you in the cramped space.

There was a beat of silence. Then another. “Not that,” he responded.

“Well I’ll make sure to ask you next time since you have such impeccable taste,” you retorted, your eyes yet to abandon the sight of the closing doors.

You weren’t sure of all the effects of the Super Soldier Serum that had been injected into Bucky and all that it heightened but you prayed to any God that would listen that his hearing wasn’t one of those things. You were too preoccupied with attempting to settle the hot pulse beating between your legs to worry about how loud your discomfort came across.

“What do you look so nervous about?” Bucky’s gruff voice prodded. “You can’t possibly be nervous about the mission considering how big-headed you are,”

You took a deep, long breath and held it to soothe you. Had you not been so previously preoccupied, you’d have given him hell for the insult. “I’m not nervous about that,” you sniped and rested back against the cool wall to satiate your burning skin before lifting your gaze to him only to find him already examining you.

“Of course not, I just said that,” he retorted, bringing a gloved hand to his face to rub along his jaw, “there’s obviously nothing for you to worry about,”

You scoffed, “And why is that, Barnes?” Cue the dramatic crossing of your arms.

“You’re smarter than Rumlow and significantly better trained. Overall, he really doesn’t hold a candle to your ability,” He paused for a second, his whole frame tensing until he remembered to relax, “But that’s not really saying much considering it’s Rumlow,”

You hadn’t noticed you raised your eyebrows until you felt your face fall, “Ah, there he is. You had me worried there for a second, Barnes. Thought you might actually try something new and display common decency for once,”

A corner of his mouth turned up subtly and he shook his head. You trailed your gaze down to his hidden hand and stared long enough to burn a hole through the fabric.

“If something’s bothering you, Dollface, go ahead and speak up,”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to say anything, especially knowing how touchy the subject was for him but the words left your mouth anyway, “I don’t know why you insist on hiding yourself,”

He lurched his head back, your statement seeming to have a physical affect on the man and you mentally slapped yourself for saying anything.

“I’m not hiding myself,”

“But you are,” you interrupted, your thoughts coming out in pools of candor, “you aren’t your hand. You aren’t your past. You are you. Presently. You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. That’s not even the same hand you had back then. It’s not tainted and neither are you. I say drop the gloves,”

“And why would I care about what you say?” He growled, his eyebrows furrowed together and his neck tight in potential restraint.

The elevator dinged and you looked towards the opening doors, “You don’t have to but they don’t look right with your suit either.” You walked through the exit and sauntered over to the others who had already gotten the party started, leaving Bucky dumb-founded behind you. “I need a shot,”

“Already ready,” Tony quipped up, holding the small glass in the air for everyone to behold before bringing his cheek to yours in mock welcoming, “This’ll up your tolerance for the next hour, try to get all your drinking done within that time-frame,”

You pulled away with a warm smile after faux kissing his cheek, “Finally!” you displayed and threw the liquid back in one swift motion, your face scrunching together against your will.

“Yeah, she’s got a kick to her,” he mumbled and handed you a fruity drink to chase it down with.

You went around and said hi to everyone as you recognized most of those present. You made small chatter with those lesser known and drank the liquid in your hand significantly quicker than you’d like to. You excused yourself after you finished the drink and walked over to the bar, scanning the room as you were handed another glass. No Rumlow in sight.

You headed towards the foosball table and gripped the handles after setting the beverage down on the counter beside you. You flinched as a reflection of light caught your eye and at first you thought your glass was the source. Until your eyes fixated on the reflection’s actual origin. To your far right, and up a few steps you found Bucky conversing with Steve, a dull light emitting from his hand. Not a glove in sight.

“So, where’s your boyfriend?” Sam inquired when he filled the opposing spot.

You rolled your eyes, “Bucky’s not my boyfriend,”

“Bucky?” Sam’s tone chirped up teasingly, a knowing look wearing on his face.

Your grip tightened around the handles and you slowly pulled away to throw the little white ball through the circle, your hands immediately twisting the miniscule players around. Your eyes shot back and forth, your sight never leaving the darting sphere. Sam still managed to win the first point.

“Ha!” He shouted in triumph, bringing his finger up as if to scold you, “Don’t think you got away with that comment either, Y/N,”

“What comment?” you questioned and gulped most of your drink before slamming it back down on the table.

You heard your earpiece come to life with quiet static and you tried to keep your face masked. Rumlow had entered. Not a surprise either, the party was finally starting to pick up now.

Sam threw the ball in and you turned the players meticulously this time, brute strength hadn’t helped you earlier so maybe you should take it slow. Steve made his way over to the table and threw his drink back, the liquid trickling down the side of his face before he wiped it away. Sam won the second point.

“I play winner,” Tony chimed, standing beside Steve.

You made a point to catch up and now you two were tied at three each.

“Best out of five?” You proposed, quirking an eyebrow at Sam.

“If you didn’t want to play anymore you could’ve just said that,” he teased and you smirked at him as Tony made a subtle show of handing you another drink and you finished your second. “Loser takes two shots?”

“Deal.” You nodded, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice as a small crowd began to form around you two. Rumlow amongst them.

Your jaw dropped when Sam shot the ball directly into your goal as soon as he’d let the ball go.

“What the fuck?” You shouted, “No fair! That doesn’t count!”

Thor erupted in laughter to your right and you blinked slowly, staring at the gargantuan man.

“It most certainly does,” Sam shouted back, his grin practically touching his ears.

“Sam, take it easy on her,” Bucky muttered from beside him, quickly averting his gaze from yours and his expression loosened, “The brat hates losing,”

“Brat?” You snarled.

Bucky took a swig of his beer, watching you the entire time and you reeled back the fire beginning to form in your chest just to bring your drink up to your lips and chug the entire thing down. You handed it over to Tony who left to replace it.

“Last point,” Sam stated, “It’s not too late to quit now,”

You shook your head and blinked away the feign distortion you were supposed to have. “Just play the ball,”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he teased and threw the ball in.

You wanted to win. Desperately. But you had a character to play tonight and she was supposed to be drunk. So you hit your hand against the corner of the table just as Sam happened to make the winning point. You grumbled and threw him a glare when Tony broke through the crowd.

“Coming through,” he shouted, handing two small glasses to you while you gripped your knuckles in pain. “Noooo, you’re not getting out of taking these. C’mon, take your punishment,”

“Yes, Daddy,” you grumbled and cringed at your own words when the realization hit you. Whatever. You were supposed to be drunk, anyway.

“Daddy?” Tony quipped and pulled the drinks back towards himself, “Maybe you should be cut off,”

“What?” You argued, leaning slightly on the table with your hand and snatching the drinks from Tony’s hold, effectively spilling some on yourself. “See?” You lifted up the half empty shot glass, “This barely counts as a shot,”

“I’ll get her a new one,” Rumlow offered and disappeared before anyone could argue.

“She really doesn’t need another-” Bucky tried to interject and take the shots from you but you twisted around and chugged down the one full glass.

Water.

You looked up at Tony and his smirk was barely noticeable. But you could tell. Bucky nearly ripped the other drink from you but Tony blocked his path and you exaggerated your next drink as Rumlow broke back into the crowd, shot in tow.

“Here.” Rumlow’s calloused hand held the drink up above you and you stared at him with a questioning look. “Open,” he ordered and the fire burning in your chest fought to destroy everything in its vicinity. You bit your lip in refrain but tossed your head back and opened your mouth.

Static broke over your earpiece. Don’t drink that! Wanda’s voice erupted.

Your eyes widened as the liquid made its way down but you coughed hard to stop whatever you could.

Why? Steve’s voice came through right after.

You choked on the liquid and shut your eyes at the way it burned its way down. You reached your hand out to grab someone’s drink to ease the burning and grasped a tall glass and tossed it back. The burning didn’t ease up and you felt a hand rest on your back.

“Are you okay?” Rumlow’s voice rang out and your skin nearly recoiled from the contact, “How about we get you some water?”

You looked up at him when the burning subsided minimally and nodded your head, letting him lead the way to the bar. He parted the crowd and someone took step right behind you to follow when the presence suddenly died out abruptly. You turned around to check who it had been and found no one.

Why? Steve asked again.

Where’s Wanda? Bruce broke through.

You lifted your head and flitted your gaze around the room until you found the familiar Sokovian on the couch, laying down with her eyes closed. You pulled away from Rumlow but his grip on your hand tightened and his steps grew in haste. You whirled your head to yell at him but the way the room swayed with the movement cause you to shut your mouth in surprise.

Didn’t Tony say you would have a higher tolerance?

“Couch...” you muttered, pointing over your shoulder just in case your target was curious enough to ask but the message was delivered.

Rumlow hoisted you up onto the bar stool and stood on your open side, using his body to keep you from falling over. Or to cage you in.

“I don’t feel good,” You rested an elbow on the countertop and held your head up.

“I can’t imagine you would. You’ve been chugging those drinks like they’re water.” Despite that, Rumlow motioned to the bartender and asked for two more.

You giggled and your head lulled forward with the action. You let Rumlow catch you from tumbling over. Why did your body feel so heavy? Not to mention the way everything around you dazed about. You couldn’t catch a single action, let alone attempt to read Rumlow’s body language. But you did happen to notice the way his eyes searched the room before coming back to you.

“You okay?” You rested your forearm against his chest and pushed slightly to allow yourself a better view of his face.

A small smirk, “Am I okay? What about you?”

You smacked your lips and brought the ice cold glass to your lips. That’s not water. “I’m doing reeaalllyy good,” you drawled.

Rumlow chuckled and pushed you deeper into the chair, “I can tell.” He took a sip, his attention never faltering from your body, “Just be sure to pace yourself from here on out,”

You made a show of cocking your head to the side and letting a smile sprawl onto your face as you studied him.

“What?” he questioned, a curious lift in his brow.

You shook your head gently and kept your gaze on him over the brim of your glass, “You’re just . . . not what I was expecting,”

“And what were you expecting?”

Don’t forget to bat your eyelashes. “Worse,”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he jeered, his attention once again cast throughout the room before centering back on you.

You followed his action but quickly came to the conclusion that moving any pace faster than a sloth was going to make you nauseous and you could barely keep a thought together. Your stomach began to rise in your chest and the fear seized your throat shut. Why couldn’t you hold onto a thought for longer than a second? It was like you were aware of your lack of consciousness but could do nothing about it because any thought or bout of panic phased through just as soon as it arrived.

“What are you so tense for, Rumlow? You know you’re not currently on the clock, right?” You teased, your head leaning on your shoulder as you spoke.

He brought his drink up to his lips and finished it off in three gulps, “I’m not tense. It’s just hard to turn it off sometimes,”

You nodded slowly and pushed your drink towards him, “Relax. You know everyone here,”

He shook his head and placed your drink back in front of you before asking for another beer.

“And two shots!” You shouted to the bartender, throwing two of your fingers high up and instantly regretting how fast you’d done it.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” He asked you, a side smirk beginning to form.

You placed your finger over your lips and hushed, “Shh, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You dragged your lower lip down and his eyes fixated to commit the scene to memory. “Besides, I always feel dumb if I’m the only one drunk,”

He motioned to the rest of the party, “Believe me, Sugar, you’re not the only one enjoying yourself,”

“But are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Enjoying yourself?”

Your skin crawled when he placed his rough hand on your barren thigh, “Absolutely,”

Don’t forget what you’re here for. Don’t let the objective slip. Gods, how the fuck were you supposed to retain anything when you were so sleepy? And why was it so warm?

“Hot,” you mumbled, fishing around in your glass for an ice cube to rub on your face.

“Thank you,”

You threw your head back in laughter and nearly earned yourself an up-close and personal view of the floor had Rumlow not wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady. Once he was certain you weren’t going to toss yourself onto the ground, he parted your legs and stood between them to keep you rooted to your seat.

All the movement had you spinning and you white-knuckled Rumlow’s cotton shirt to keep yourself grounded to something, anything. Red warning lights were firing up in your chest and you tensed with the way your body buckled to the panic coursing through you. Your heart pounded in your ears and danced across your skin, lighting it on fire and making the room too stuffy to bear. Please, no. Not now. Focus. Snap out of it. Come back, stay back. Your breathing hitched and you looked down at the sensation crawling its way up higher on your thigh. Too hot. Everything was too hot, if you didn’t get out of this now you would never-

“Vision!” You cheered, happy to see your friend.

The presence on your thigh recoiled slightly.

“I’m taking Wanda to her room, seems she’s had a bit too much to drink,” Vision informed and you’d only just then noticed the body in his hold.

“Wanda!” You smiled, admiring her peaceful features as she slept in his arms. You poked at her cheek then jerked your gaze back up to Vision. “What? Wanda doesn’t drink,”

She’s not acting, Sam’s voice erupted in your ear and you flinched at the sound.

Vision’s eyes went from you to Rumlow then back to you slowly, “Y/N . . . are you okay?”

You beamed at him and slowly brought up your thumb. “Good,” you responded.

You followed Vision’s gaze back up to Rumlow and smiled at the agent beside you. You guess he’s kind of cute. In a strange, unsettling way.

“She’s had a lot to drink, so we’re just trying to slow down the pace. Aren’t we, Y/N?” Rumlow looked down at you.

You nodded fervently, “Yup!”

Vision hesitated but knew he didn’t pose much of a threat with Wanda in his arms unconscious, so he quirked a smile and walked towards the hall.

Someone get to Y/N, something’s not right, Vision ordered and you lifted your head up to find him. You could have sworn he just left.

“Here.” Rumlow handed you a glass, “Drink this, it’ll cool you down,”

You stared at the glass in his hold and looked up at him, “You drink it first,” you slurred, holding your finger up at him.

He cocked his head to the side but took a swig of the drink and you watched it go down his throat. You shrugged and grabbed at it.

Do not drink that, Nat ordered from somewhere and you looked around in wonder at who she was yelling to.

Bucky, Sit down! Steve growled.

Like hell, responded a voice you knew all too well.

Your smile grew and you looked through the crowd, “Bucky!” You feverishly called, completely expecting to see him before you. Rumlow’s head lifted instantly, his eyes scouring the area.

“I’ve got this, Pretty Boy,” Tony hastily spoke, “How ya doin’, Hot Stuff?” He interrogated and you reeled at the tone.

“Quite well, thank you,” you responded tenaciously and attempted to take a swig of the drink in your grasp.

Tony’s hand shot out and covered the top, slamming the cup back down on the counter and effectively getting the drink all over your dress.

“What the fuck?” You tried to shout but the words came out heavy and required too much energy to speak.

“You’ve had enough for tonight,”

“It’s just water,” Rumlow defended but Tony paid him no mind.

Your jaw dropped open and you glared at the older man. Who the hell did he think he was? Tony’s stare burned through your skull and despite your irritation, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was so pissed.

“Are you mad at me?” You drawled, lulling your head to the side.

“No,” he responded curtly.

“Am I being too loud or something?” You pushed. You couldn’t imagine you were any louder than any other drunken bastard at this party.

“No,”

Get her out of there or I swear to God I will, his voice hissed into your ear.

Your eyebrows rose slightly in excitement, “Mmm, Bucky,” you smiled and Tony nodded.

“’Mmm, Bucky’ is right. Wanna go see him?” Tony offered, sticking out his hand for you to take.

You fell forward into Rumlow’s chest but shook your head furiously none the less, “For what? So he can tell me I’m horrendous at my-”

Oh shit. Your job. The job.

If only your body didn’t feel so heavy and your mind so light.

You pushed off Rumlow’s chest and glared at Tony, “I can handle myself,” you insisted, a new sort of sober tone making its way through that caused him to do a once-over. “I know what I’m doing,”

“How many drinks have you had?” Tony challenged and you fell silent.

Then you felt a tap, and another and a few more.

“Six,” You said, hoping you’d counted right.

Tony, don’t you even fucking consider it, Bucky threatened.

“You could at least change, recuperate and then come back,” Tony offered and you sighed a breath of relief before nodding.

“Deal,” you agreed, “I’m hot anyway,”

Tony gave you one last glance before turning around and blending into the crowd on the other end of the room.

You looked up to Rumlow who’s gaze was still locked on the sea of people, “Don’t you wish you’d taken that shot now?” you tried to jeer, every last word bringing you deeper and deeper.

“Are they always that intense?” He questioned, not turning his attention to you.

“They can be over-bearing,” you admitted, hand grabbing the water from earlier and pressing it up against your forehead, “They consider me the baby so they’re always criticizing and suffocating until I just wished they’d disappear.” You took a gulp, “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the family and I like that I have a cause but . . . they don’t let me do anything. It’s exhausting,”

You let out a long breath and smeared the condensation from the glass onto your chest. Rumlow studied you then, not just your body but your reaction. He was watching how you dropped your shoulders at the confession and how you faced your back to them to block them out.

You plastered your torso on the countertop and tried to slow your heartrate down. You couldn’t be the only one here unfathomably hot.

“Why is it so fucking hot?” You questioned, fanning yourself weakly.

“There are a lot of people around,” Rumlow offered, “how about we go somewhere else? Tony did say you had to change,”

You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes and meekly groaned in compliance. “Fine,”

You lifted yourself away from the counter and gently placed your feet on the floor. You’d touched the ground faster than anticipated. Had the ground always been so close?

“Don’t worry, I gotcha.” Rumlow threw an arm around your waist and helped you trudge towards the elevator.

Where the hell are you going? Bucky yelled and the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end.

We can’t let you leave with Rumlow, Y/N. We’re not even sure you’re acting anymore, Sam stated.

Rumlow pressed the button when you couldn’t muster the strength to do it yourself. The level that your room was on lit up and the doors began closing. You thought you saw Rumlow wave at someone but the mock smile on his face didn’t make it seem like a warm good-bye.

Your legs had all but given out by the time the elevator reached your shared floor.

“Heavy,” you muttered, letting Rumlow carry your weight fully.

“I know, Sugar. We’re almost there,” he soothed and you conceded to the fatigue wearing you down.

Your head hung low and your arm dangled uselessly at your side. The familiar sound of your door sliding open caught your attention but you did nothing. You couldn’t.

“How . . . know . . . my room?” You questioned, each word causing you to pull from an empty well of energy.

“I’ve been here before.” Rumlow tossed you onto the bed and sprawled you out.

“Oh. Ok.” You tried to turn on to your side but strong hands gripped down onto your ankles.

Rumlow sighed and slipped the heels off your feet, examining the pair like he wanted to wear them. You extended your feet until you felt every muscle in your leg stretch to its capacity and let out a groan of pleasure at the release. Those shoes hurt so bad.

“You seem . . . intelligent, Y/N.” Rumlow dropped your shoes onto the floor and slithered to the side of your bed, standing beside it with his hands tucked into his pockets.

A bead of sweat trickled down your forehead, “Hot . . .” you croaked and he nodded.

“You’re right. It is getting kind of hot.” He brought a hand up to his neck and ripped off the tie hanging around it.

Get the fuck out of my way, a growl erupted in your ear.

We’re going with you, Buck, Steve responded before knocking something over.

“So, what I have a hard time understanding is. . . why you’re here?”

You groaned a weak ‘huh’ but even that didn’t sound right.

“You’re good at what you do, you finish every mission successfully and yet you’re underappreciated.” He took a seat at the foot of your bed and placed one of your legs into his lap, “Why do you allow them to treat you like that? We wouldn’t,”

The shuffling in your earpiece halted.

“We?”

He began to massage your calf and brought your knee up to his lips, peppering light kisses on it. “We could use someone with your skillset, babe. We’d take real good care of you,”

The shuffling started again.

Rumlow had made his way onto your thigh at this point and you let out an involuntary moan when he skimmed over a delicate part on your inner knee.

“Ya like that?” he questioned but didn’t wait for a response. He brought a hand up to his temple and grabbed the earpiece. You figured he just hadn’t taken it out from his earlier shift but when he pulled it apart, you understood why he always kept it on him.

“Flash . . . drive earpiece?” Your weak tone tilted a little. “W-why tell . . .”

“I figured I’d give you the option to leave since you seem so . . . suffocated. If you said yes tonight then I would remind you tomorrow. If you didn’t,” he chuckled, “well, you wouldn’t remember anyway.” His hands trailed to your mid-thigh and you squeaked. “I’m impressed though, I’ve never given anyone else as much as I’ve given you tonight. The drug usually works so quickly on others, but not you. It’s kind of hot, actually,”

Sick fuck, Natasha growled through a ragged breath.

The world around you was slow or maybe it was you that was slow? You couldn’t tell, honestly. But when Rumlow moved as if he could predict your actions before you could make them, you wondered whether you were moving at all.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon,” Rumlow sighed.

You shook your head, or thought you did but despite the way your body was live-wired, it remained still against all desire.

Fight. Move.

You managed to push your legs shut but his hand slithered between and spread them open similar to opening a door, but this required much less force.

“Kill,” You threatened and the sinister smile that crawled its way onto Rumlow’s face was vile enough to sink your heart into your stomach.

“Kill is fucking right.” Someone snarled and your door was ripped from its hinges.

Rumlow’s hand jerked away from your body and Bucky seized his open palm, intertwining their fingers and pushing Rumlow’s so far back that they touched the back of his own hand. The cracks were sickening onto themselves but had you not been so weak you would’ve turned from the sight altogether. You really couldn’t fathom how his fingers were still attached at all.

“Lay another hand on her and you won’t be able to use it again.” Bucky spit.

Despite Rumlow’s pain, the sinister smile remained sprawled on his face, “You should’ve heard the noises she made,”

Bucky’s grip tightened and the bones in his palm broke next, “I did,”

Natasha flew in right behind Barnes but completely dismissed the two and headed straight for you with a needle in hand. Your eyes shifted from the needle to Nat’s face and back again until she stabbed it into your upper arm. Ouch.

“Wha-”

“Shh,” Natasha hastily hushed, “Keep your strength, you should be back to normal soon,”

Steve came behind Nat and scooped you up to lead you out of the havoc going on in the room. Nat turned her focus to Bucky and reached over to grab the earpiece from Rumlow. Who knows if his nose will ever heal back normally. You held one finger in the air as Steve stepped over the splintered door.

“Goddamit, Y/N,” Steve huffed, jogging towards the elevator and pressing the floor that led to the infirmary.

“We won,” you croaked out, a small smile on your face and Steve shook his head.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this,”

Steve looked you up and down for bruises but couldn’t find any and you promised you weren’t lying to him when you told him Rumlow did not get very far in his ‘advances’ at all. You had to swear the mid-thigh was the worst that it came to.

Bruce was the one that took a few blood samples and made sure everything was reversing back to normal. Apparently, as soon as Rumlow took you to the bar Tony handed Banner the shot glass that Rumlow gave you and Banner ran analysis on it. The cure was pretty easy to find.

After being given strict orders to lie down for the next hour or so, it had been decided that Rumlow was to be turned in considering all the evidence required to make the arrest was in the flashdrive and everyone was to gather together for a ‘family night’. Whatever the hell that meant.

You were in the middle of debating which movie to pick with Steve when the infirmary doors flew open.

“Where is she?” Bucky nearly shouted upon seeing Bruce.

“That’s my cue.” Steve stood up just as Bucky rounded the corner, “If you need anything me and Banner will be right over there,”

You smiled and thanked him then turned your attention to the super-soldier who just arrived at the foot of your bed.

He didn’t say anything for a while, just looked at you. No, not really. Not at you but through you. A few painstakingly slow seconds went by that way.

“You owe me a new door,” you joked, a half-smile on your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, finally registering your presence.

You nodded slowly, “I am,”

Then a few more seconds.

Bucky turned his gaze down to his hands, both of them barren and on display for the world to see, before shifting his weight between either foot, “Did he- did he touch you?”

“Not really. Just really liked my legs for some reason,” your attempt at another quip didn’t reach Bucky. He stared back up at you waiting for an answer, an honest one. You sighed, “The damage is more mental,” you admitted, now you were the one not able to look up, “I didn’t like being in this altered state of mind. It’s invasive and . . . scary. He could’ve done things, much worse things but it never got that far or that bad. It was more realizing that I wasn’t completely conscious or present and having that state of mind be taken advantage of, that mostly frightened me. Ya know?”

“More than anyone,” he answered immediately.

You looked back up towards him, finally making eye contact, “But I’m fine now, really. Just a little spooked. Steve wants to do a movie night tonight and I would actually prefer that over being alone.” Your eyes fixated on the way his hands clenched and unclenched on the bar by your feet, “If I’m alone then I’ll get stuck in my head about it. Besides, I consider this a hard victory with a few bumps in the road,”

He chuckled, lulling his head a bit, “You’re too stubborn for your own good,”

You shrugged, “Maybe. How’s Rumlow?”

Bucky hissed and moved over to the side of the bed where he took a seat, “He’s unconscious. And has a hand that he’ll never be able to use again. But other than that, he’s fine,”

You chuckled and Bucky watched how the laugh met your eyes. He liked that look on you. It was one of his favorites.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You questioned once it fell silent between you two again.

“You called me Bucky earlier,” he remembered.

You scoffed, “I call you Bucky all the time,”

“Not to my face,”

“Not to your face,” you agreed, a teasing smile dancing on your lips and Bucky had one that mirrored yours.

“It was nice. Hearing it, I mean,” he admitted and a wave of warmth made its way to your face.

“I see your hands are exposed,”

He looked down as though he weren’t aware that he’d taken off his own gloves, “These bad boys? A friend of mine reminded me that I’m not my past. I’m my present. Why hide my growth?”

You twiddled your thumbs together, “She sounds smart,”

Now he scoffed, “Oh, it wasn’t a girl, it was some old buddy of mine.” He quirked up a brow, “Unless the person being a girl would make you jealous because in that case it was most definitely a girl,”

You fought against the natural tug at the corners of your mouth, “Is she at least pretty?”

“Stunning,”

“Smart?”

“Genius,”

“Good at her job?”

“Amongst the best,”

“Then consider me jealous, Barnes,”

Bucky chuckled and you watched how the laugh met his eyes. You liked that look on him. It was one of your favorites.

1K notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 3 years

Video

dailymotion

“Sentibubbler” summary? “Sentibubbler” salt?

Why not both at the same time?

Something a little experimental, though also somewhat reminiscent of some of my past videos. Calling it “summasalt” for now, based on the word “somersault” because this episode was an exercise of my patience.

It’s basically just me going through the episode with my usual episode summary, but salting along the way instead of making you guys read a wall of text without any images or clips or me making snarky comments.

(By the way, yes, I did in fact have caffeine before recording.)

script below for anyone who wants/needs it:

"Sentibubbler" begins with Marinette having food with the Cesaires and I already know this isn't real because Marinette is actually getting to interact with her best friend's family. That's only happened, like--when, two episodes of Season 2? [”Sapotis” and “Anansi”]

Marinette sees Trixx and points out how they're supposed to be a secret, and Alya asks why while calling Marinette "Ladybug." Marinette plays dumb but is told by Nino that everyone already knows her secret. Chloe is also there, chiding Marinette for her identity rule - it's not Marinette's rule but after "Reflekdoll" I've just gotten used to Marinette being blamed for things she didn't do - and Marinette goes to question Chloe's apperance when there's a knock on the balcony door. Alya invites Shadow Moth in and--[Shadow Moth has to duck to come inside]--huh, I thought Sole Crusher was seven episodes ago.

Anyway, now obviously, Marinette is just being ridiculous and overemotional as usual, because why would Marinette ever think that Alya would reveal any information to--["Feast"]--oh yeah, that's right.

Tikki doesn't transform Marinette and says that Marinette shouldn't have trusted Alya with her secret. Enter Chat Blanc, who says that they can be together now without any secrets. Not really sure what this episode is aiming for with the mixed message of "your identity rule sucks" but also "your fault for trusting someone instead of having a mental breakdown," but a’ight. Trixx also gets another dig in on Marinette for giving Alya the fox miraculous.

Marinette wakes up from her nightmare and panics, but Tikki reassures her that Alya is loyal. [”Chameleon”] Mm. Also, that kind of support might've been nice from Tikki literal seasons ago when Marinette could've used a confidant.

Wayzz - I swear, they've had eyelashes more often than not in this season - points out that Trixx is mischievous and Xuppu talks about Trixx being the cause of the Loch Ness monster rumors, which worries Marinette further. Marinette runs out in her pajamas and I can already predict that neither Tom nor Sabine are going to check on her later or care.

Marinette finds the Cesaires looking for something, their words vague enough for Marinette to think that they're talking about Trixx. Alya brushes Marinette off and tells her to help with looking instead of lecturing her.

Marlena makes a comment that reminds Marinette of her nightmare, only increasing Marinette's stress. A tarantula crawls up a ladle and Marinette freaks out when she sees it, which Marlena has a laugh at because Marinette's anxiety, fear, and panic is hilarious, guys!

This is my laughing face. [not a laughing face]

Nino exits, having been too afraid of the spider to leave the room, so Nora compares Marinette to him. Nino tries to play it cool, then changes the subject to point out Marinette's pajamas. Alya wonders aloud why Marinette showed up and Marinette tries to act casual, but Alya sees through it and states that she doesn't usually lose things when someone lends them to her.

I presume the exception is Marinette's trust. OH-HOOOOHHH, we'll get there.

Nora takes a jab at Alya for losing the spider and Marinette drags Alya away to talk. Nino tries to join but Alya states that it's between her and Marinette, which makes Nino sad.

Nino, does the phrase "guys' time" ring a bell by any chance?

Marinette is explaining her nightmare and is simply told to calm down by Alya, though Marinette is briefly startled by a phone ringing. Marinette puts together what she knows that Shadow Moth knows, including that Alya is Rena Rouge, adding on that Shadow Moth could steal the fox necklace if he figured out that Alya has it permanently. Alya reassures her that no one will ever know and Marinette states that this must include Chat Noir. Alya agrees and brings attention to the fanny pack around her waist, which Trixx has been hiding in, and Marinette has Trixx promise not to show up at the dining table like in her nightmare. Tikki tells Marinette that everything will be fine and Marinette admits that it was silly of her to worry, which it was! ...If you ignore all the anxiety, mental scarring, and constant pressure to be perfect or risk Paris lighting itself on fire, much like I presume they accidentally did with their original script for this episode.

Alya tells Marinette to trust her and also herself - I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Alya, thank you - then Alya loses her temper at the phone continuing to ring. She leaves to find an empty living room, then answers the phone only to hear Shadow Moth on the other line. Alya turns upon hearing Marinette scream to see that Marinette has been trapped in a bubble. Cue the reveal/return of the Bubbler, who is definitely Nino akumatized and not--like--a sentimonster, because the episode didn't spoil it at all with the title of Sentibub--

show, this is freaking embarrassing. Why even bother akumatizing someone when you can mold a sentimonster with the exact power you want?

At least they reveal it quickly, though that also means I have to live with the knowledge that Shadow Moth wINKED AT ALYA, NO.

Anyway, Shadow Moth tells Alya that he wants her to betray Ladybug. Marinette, meanwhile, is panicking over being unable to transform while in public, whereas Tikki remains calm and reassures her that Alya will figure something out and it's why Marinette gave Alya the fox miraculous in the first place.

Weird, I thought it was for the show to continuously validate Alya as a worthy choice for a confidant despite repeatedly covering up her sINS and so the show can push for more anxiety on Marinette's part while simultaneously not having to make a new hero model for Alya, which they would have to do if the realistic decision had been made to give Alya a different miraculous due to Shadow Moth knowing her identity as Rena Rouge.

Marinette texts Alya to inform her that the Bubbler is a sentimonster and so Rena can tell Chat not to use Cataclysm on him or the bubbles will burst due to the sentimonster's lack of control.

Hate to burst the show's bubble but Alya could literally see Nino up in the sky and they could see her; the bubbles are in viewing range. Did this even go through a quality check?

Alya goes to look at Marinette's text, but the phone is bubbled away by Sentibubbler. Marinette sees the phone floating by and panics, only to be reassured again to trust Alya and at this point I vaguely wondered if I was watching this episode on repeat. Tikki also adds that Alya has never let her down - [”Ladybug”] MMMM - and Marinette agrees, also certain that Chat Noir will show up soon.

Oh yeah, he exists. Oh no.

Cut to the Agreste mansion where Adrien is watching the news - dude, how is there never anything better on when you need to be told that there's an akuma? here, look, I'll show you [”Silencer” Lukabug clip] there, much better, see? - and it's pointed out that the bubbles are identical to the ones Bubbler had, yet Nino is in one of the bubbles. Adrien readies himself while Plagg is - for once - okay with leaving since his cheese isn't "edible" yet.

I feel like he should be a little more concerned about Marinette being in a bubble.

Meanwhile, Shadow Moth is explaining to Alya that Ladybug will come to give her the fox miraculous due to the bubbled people in the sky - plenty of other choices that aren't within breathing range of the obvious danger zone, but a'ight - and SentiBubbler will catch Ladybug. Alya brings up Chat Noir saving her but Shadow Moth states that she'll create an illusion of Ladybug and Rena to lure Chat Noir, who won't see Sentibubbler coming, at which point Rena will hand Shadow Moth her miraculous. He adds that her loved ones will only be returned once all three miraculouses are in his possession, though if she tries to warn the heroes then Sentibubbler will send the bubbles into space, too far for any hero to save them.

[clip of space power-ups] Hm.

Also, I would've just let her keep the miraculous as an extra bribe since he doesn't need the fox and she wouldn't have time to recharge anyway - at least to his knowledge - but that's just me.

Marinette is relieved that Alya still hasn't been captured--TIKKI, I KNOW, YOU'VE BEEN PARROTING THIS ALL EPISODE, I KNOW--but Marinette changes her tune when she sees Alya blindly calling out for Ladybug's help, unaware that Alya is buying time. Marinette laments the idea of transforming there and having using the rabbit to go back in time to reverse, as that's never a good thing (seconded), but gets the idea for Tikki to take her miraculous to someone else. Tikki rejects the idea, as the earrings won't go through the bubble, and Marinette realizes that Chat Noir is their only hope.

I mean, it was nice knowing them. Sure is interesting how Marinette has only been getting herself into these situations where she requires saving when the show needed to present Alya as a valid choice for a confidant.

Meanwhile, Chat Noir is leaving a message for Ladybug about the bubbles in the sky, saying that he'll wait for her; I already see where this is going and I don't like it.

Alya mutters to Trixx about how they need a plan to release Marinette. Through Alya Vision, we're shown Sentibubbler, a bowl of fruit, and the bathroom door. Alya tells Sentibubbler that she needs to go to the bathroom and - wow, we're really doing this, aren't we? - which Shadow Moth rejects. Shadow Moth is also on top of a building holding a coffee cup which honestly makes about as much sense as the rest of the episode, so whatever. Alya claims that she can't wait and that it'll be awkward for Ladybug to find her like that, which gets Shadow Moth to relent but also remind her of what's at stake if she tries anything. Alya states that she can't do anything without a miraculous anyway, then purposefully falls onto the table, concealing her long enough for her to transform and allowing an illusion of herself to go to the bathroom while she escapes. She detransforms in the twins' room and feeds Trixx with some grapes that she'd picked up.

Alya explains her plan to trick Shadow Moth and Sentibubbler since they don't know that she has a miraculous, though she also has to make sure that Chat won't ruin things. Rena then proceeds to call Chat Noir and claim that Ladybug wanted her to call him with her plan, but adds that it's a two-person plan and Chat himself isn't needed, so he needs to wait for further instructions. Chat demands that Ladybug call him to tell him herself, but Rena insists that she can't, as Ladybug is very busy. She warns him not to use Cataclysm if he sees the Bubbler, as he's a sentimonster, then promises to talk to him later before hanging up.

She uses Mirage again, making the Alya illusion reappear as well as creating a Ladybug. Chat Noir, infuriated at being left out, destroys part of a building with his baton. He then dismisses the action because Miraculous Ladybug will fix it.

Spoiler alert, it will, which is a very fascinating detail! I mean, I can't imagine another situation where a hero did something while there was an akuma going around and Miraculous Ladybug decided to help 'em out, but it just goes to show what happens when you're the writers' pet. Just look a little pitiful and they'll give you all the sympathy in the world.

By the way, didn't expect them to actually confirm my theory that Chat Noir does Chat Noir things because he knows that Miraculous Ladybug will fix it anyway, essentially allowing him to earn brownie points from Ladybug via sacrificing himself regardless of how it affects her mentally, yet here we are and I don't know whether to be sad, angry, disappointed, or a mixture of all three.

Chat Noir sees the Ladybug illusion jumping off and gives chase, refuses to stay where he is. Marinette, seeing that Rena Rouge's illusions are active, panics at the sight of Chat Noir, as the illusion will vanish if Chat touches it.

I like to imagine the immediate concern is the idea that Chat Noir will try to take Ladybug's hand while trying to flirt.

Anyway, Marinette flails inside the bubble in an attempt to reach Chat Noir, while illusion Alya and SentiBubbler get into position. Chat Noir watches what he perceives as Ladybug heading into the Cesaire house with Alya, but Marinette gets to him in order to tell him not to go anywhere. Chat complains about everyone telling him to stay put, but Marinette explains Rena's plan to him. Chat is skeptical of how she knows that, to which Marinette insists that she saw it from where she was. Chat Noir relents with a sigh and stays where he is.

SentiBubbler watches as the illusion of Alya and Ladybug talk to each other, Rena making it look like Ladybug is piecing together what happened and refusing to give Alya a miraculous ever again due to Shadow Moth knowing her identity. She claims that she'll find another holder and give them an even more powerful miraculous, which interests Shadow Moth and gets him to follow after the Ladybug illusion. Once Sentibubbler leaves as well, Chat sees this as his chance to stop the sentimonster, as the Ladybug illusion will vanish if it's touched. Marinette strokes his ego for the token love square moment of the episode, and Chat Noir fights SentiBubbler while Shadow Moth goes after the Ladybug illusion.

I'm noticing a real lack of tension in this episode. Once Alya has her plan, it's kind of a clean sweep from start to finish with no interference or unexpected roadblocks in the way. Even Shadow Moth following the Ladybug illusion goes fine, with Shadow Moth even punching a building thinking that Ladybug actually got away from him.

Dude, it's fine, Miraculous Ladybug will fix it, just put on your best sad face. Maybe Chat Noir gets it from you actually, is treatment from the writers a hereditary thing?

Sentibubbler and Chat Noir are still fighting. Shadow Moth shows up and Marinette tries to warn Chat, but Chat gets caught in a bubble and Marinette apologizes; she doesn't have anything to apologize for but after "Reflekdoll" I--wait I already did this.

Chat Noir uses Cataclysm to escape, only to get caught in another bubble. I'd just like to throw out there that this guy's a hero three seasons going and the love interest for the main character, yet his role in the episode has amounted to complaining about the authority of a hero Ladybug chose, throwing a property-destroying tantrum over being excluded, and wasting his power without a single thought which just got him captured again.

Chat, does the name "Syren" ring any bells by any chance? I'm just sayin', you could always quit. In fact, wasn't it you literally one episode ago saying that you understood if Ladybug couldn't always come get you? Then, after seeing the jump from "Glaciator" to "Frozer," I'm about as shocked as rubber.

Back with the competent one, Alya notes to Trixx that Rena Rouge can no longer be seen by Shadow Moth or else the jig is up. She transforms and texts Marinette to be ready, creating an illusion of Marinette that simultaneously hides the real version, allowing her to transform into Ladybug.

Chat Noir's bubble gets dragged down and Shadow Moth gets SentiBubbler to mute Chat Noir's bubble.

[clip from “Silencer” where Ladybug takes amusement in Chat being muted]

Ladybug uses Lucky Charm and receives a pot, her Lucky Vision spotting Shadow Moth's coffee cup, then SentiBubbler, then the tarantula trapped in a bubble. Ladybug deduces that the cup is the sentimonster's object, then pulls the horse miraculous out of her yoyo and unifies it with the ladybug--oh.

Oh my.

You know, it's times like this where I'm reminded that the show knows nothing about fashion... or girls... or good writing actually--there's just a lot of stuff they don't know.

Sentibubbler does a countdown, then starts sending the civilian bubbles up into the sky. Chat Noir is about to de-transform while PegaBug notices of Shadow Moth's two miraculous, up for grabbin'. She notes that she won't be able to catch everyone, so she forms a portal behind Shadow Moth and goes for the coffee cup first, thus putting her in control of SentiBubbler, who happily brings the bubbles back down at her command.

Shadow Moth erases SentiBubbler from existence though, causing everyone to fall, but Chat and PegaBug manage to catch them. PegaBug de-transforms and presents the Cesaires with the tarantula, which had been trapped inside the lucky charm. Ladybug and Chat Noir watch Shadow Moth escape and Ladybug laments that it could've been the end of Shadow Moth once and for all because it's not a Miraculous episode without Marinette being at fault or feeling guilty in some way! Chat Noir reassures her [*by “reassure,” I mean he might as well have said, “Well, you saved ME, so you did great!”] - wow, that's two token love square moments for the price of one episode, don't I feel spoiled - and Ladybug leaves to retrieve the tarantula's tank.

Rena Rouge is waiting for her and they hug, with Rena repeating that she doesn't lose something that someone gives her. Ladybug states that she never should've doubted the idea of giving Alya a miraculous and Imma just give you guys a counter real quick. [counter that shows that Tikki has complimented Alya four times, Alya has complimented herself/told Marinette to trust her thrice, and Marinette has said that she was wrong thrice]. Miraculous Ladybug is cast and everything returns to normal, with Alya explaining what she did and Marinette being relieved that Shadow Moth won't be going after her anymore. Alya confidently asks if she was smart and Marinette is happy to praise her, confirming it and stating that Alya is a real superhero and honestly? If the narrative wanted to marry Alya this badly, they should've just used some of the budget to buy a ring instead of projecting onto the other characters.

Then again, the apparent budget can't even afford a new hero model nor new akuma to a very noticeable degree, so I guess they're taking what they can get.

Alya praises Marinette as well for her work as PegaBug and they do a fistbump, thus ending the episode. There's also this ever-so-lovely post-episode scene with Gabriel and Nathalie where Gabriel laments the fact that Ladybug never makes mistakes which--I... has he even watched the series at all? Gabe, babe, Babriel Agreste, it's literally part of the show's formula that Marinette makes a mistake in every episode and she felt guilty like a minute ago over not yoinking your miraculouses when she had the chance, where have you been?

But, yeah, anyway, the episode.

Needless to say, not a fan. Like I said, the show seems so intent on immediately validating the choices they make with Alya in order to make her look like a better character. "Gang of Secrets" basically replaced her with someone different at the end of the episode, and the episode immediately afterwards in chronological order, "Mr. Pigeon 72," did everything it could to push Marinette out of her guardian position long enough for Alya to figure out the grimoire despite having zero onscreen experience with it, the episode even trapping Ladybug in a situation that forced Rena Rouge to come into play to validate that decision as well.

And now we have "SentiBubbler" here following immediately after "Optigami," desperate to reassure its audience that Alya is cool, smart, truthworthy, and that not needing to make a new model--sorry, I mean Alya continuing to have the fox--was a good decision. All the while, they continue pushing Alya's flaws under the rug [Note that it’s not even considered that Alya is even remotely at fault for Shadow Moth going after her specifically after her stunt in “Optigami” when no one else but Ladybug and Chat have ever given out a miraculous], hiding them instead of Alya actually acknowledging them, the only reason she did so in "Optigami" being the same as in "Gang of Secrets"; to make her look good while Marinette makes a big decision in their relationship.

The episode tries so hard to drill in this idea that Alya is a good friend who can be trusted, and I'm just not here for how much they try to hammer it in. Marinette's very real anxiety over Shadow Moth's power and ability to plan things is played off as her being silly instead of something to be concerned about, and instead of giving her a hug and trying to help her calm down - [clip from “Heart Hunter” of Luka hugging Marinette] I miss Luka - she's just told to trust and believe and hAVE fAiTh in Alya.

Shadow Moth is an adult; he has abilities that the teenage heroes don't. I'm not even saying that Marinette isn't overreacting [Basically, her concern about Shadow Moth is valid, especially after “Optigami” where her identity was almost found out], but she has anxiety and some obvious trauma over "Chat Blanc." I was already upset that Alya got a free pass to Marinette's identity, but the constant stressing over how much Marinette should trust her just doesn't affect me when I know Alya and I know the kind of stuff she's done that the show blatantly ignored in favor of pushing for her.

But okay, show, I'll give Alya the benefit of the doubt that she doesn't deserve. Let's say that she's turned a new leaf, and has become the reliable, trustworthy, and loyal partner that Marinette deserves. I'm sure that Alya has Marinette's back, and will never go behind said back in order to do something completely unsurprising and wholly indicative of the character I actually know her to be.

Especially not a mere three episodes later...

#MC's Videos #category: episode summaries #category: salt #video: critique #MC's Renders #render: persona #episode: Sentibubbler #((Definitely let me know what you guys think because I don't know if I should do this more or not.))#((Judging from what the response is will help me make a decision on it.))#((I know my editing could be a little better but my video editor has been physically fighting me lately.))#((Is there such a thing as TOO sassy/sarcastic?))#((idk if I'm actually funny or not so definitely lemme know if there was anything that particularly amused you guys))#((so I know in the future where your guys' sense of humor lies.))#((I don't really TRY to be funny I just do whatever comes to mind/is comfortable.))

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multifandomfix · 2 years

Text

The Price Of A Coat - Cruella DeVil (101 Dalmatians)

Summary: When Cruella loses Anita as a designer, she turns her sights to you, a skilled designer of another fashion house in London. And she’ll do anything to get you to leave your current employer.

Word Count: 1,592

Warnings: Suggestive, a bit of sexual tension, angst if you squint

You’d been working for your current fashion house for years now. You’d always considered yourself lucky to have gotten a job there, and now the brand was becoming one of the most successful in London. And your work for them hadn’t gone unnoticed. In fact, just recently, your designs caught the eye of the infamous Cruella DeVil.

You were sketching away as you typically did after grabbing yourself a cup of coffee, when a soft knock fell on your office door. It was one of the secretaries and it wasn’t often anyone bothered to summon you, so you were a bit surprised. Even more so when this secretary seemed frightened. "I, um, someone to see you," she stuttered.

"Well send them in," you said, but by the time you got the words out, your visitor had already made her way into the room.

She walked right up to you, and the secretary quickly shut the door behind her, excusing herself and leaving the two of you alone. "Cruella DeVil," the woman introduced, offering you her hand, clad in a black leather glove. You knew who she was, of course. There wasn’t a single person in the fashion industry of London who didn’t know Cruella, but you never dreamed that you’d meet her in person.

You took her hand and she gave you a firm yet gentle shake. "I’ve seen your work," she said as she released your hand. "And as I’ve recently lost one of my best designers, I’m in the market for another. You, specifically."

"I’m flattered, Miss DeVil, but I can’t leave my fashion house. Loyalty, you see. I was with them when they started and I couldn’t bear to leave them now."

"Ah, yes, loyalty is a tricky thing, isn’t it? How about I make you a deal? One fur coat. Design and make me one fur coat unlike any other, while you think about my job offer and if, upon completion of the coat, you still don’t wish to join the House of DeVil, then I shall leave you be. Agreed?"

It seemed a reasonable enough offer. One project aside from your usual work wasn’t asking too much, you supposed. Besides, it wasn’t often that you got to work with fur, faux or otherwise. It might be a nice change for you creatively speaking. "I accept," you replied after having thought it over for a moment. "I’ll make your coat and consider your offer in the meantime."

"Do stop by with it once you’re finished. I’d like to see the design before you have it made."

"Of course," you agreed. "Until then, Miss DeVil."

"Please, call me Cruella."

You had no intention of accepting Cruella's job offer in the end. You simply couldn’t betray your current employer. They’d taken a chance on you at a time when no one else would and for that you swore to remain eternally grateful. So far, you had, without a second thought.

Designing Cruella's coat in your free time, however, did give you much to think about. You considered it all fantasy though, a what if type of scenario. You wouldn’t seriously think of leaving. You couldn’t, could you? No, certainly not, but something about working for Cruella had started to tempt you, just a little.

When you finally seemed pleased with your design, you took it to the House of DeVil. You felt your heart hammer in your chest as you came up to the place. You assumed it was just the nerves of wondering whether or not Cruella would be satisfied with what you’d come up with. You’d felt things like this before when you tried out bold new designs, so why should this time be any different?

But there was a difference, and it was not at all what you expected. Sure, you wanted your design to please her, who in their right mind wouldn’t want to design a piece for a fashion icon such as herself? Though, as you were let into her office by Alonzo, you found that it wasn’t simply your design that you wanted to impress her with, but rather you wanted her to be impressed with you. As a designer, sure, but more so as a person.

"Ah, darling, you’ve arrived with the design for my coat at last," she said, red painted lips curled up in a genuine smile as she sat at her desk, cigarette holder in hand. You smiled back, and that hammering in your chest became louder still and more erratic. "Have you given any more thought to the job offer?"

"I have," you admitted. You’d thought it over more than you planned to, really. So much so that it was starting to sound better by the day, but you weren’t quite ready to give her hope of swaying you yet. "I remain undecided, but should you like the design, I’ll have an answer for you when I bring the finished product."

She sighed, frustrated that you were playing so hard to get, but she was still confident that she’d steal you away in the end, one way or another. "Very well," Cruella said, getting up from her chair and walking around her desk to view the design you’d brought her. "Let’s see what you’ve got."

You took the drawing from your portfolio and laid it on the desk. Cruella stopped next to you to view it over your shoulder right shoulder. Tapping off her cigarette far away from your papers, you waited with anticipation for her reaction. "It’s gorgeous. Simply stunning," she enthused. She leaned forward to inspect it closer, and her body was now partially pressed up against yours, her left hand finding your hip as if to keep her steady as she leant over the picture before her. You were certain that she could feel your heartbeat racing, but if she did, she said nothing of it.

"It’s perfect," she concluded. "Do get on with making it. I cannot wait to view your final product." She backed away from you at once, and you released a breath that you’d unwittingly been holding in.

"Thank you. I’ll get right on it. I’ve taken leave this week to devote my time to it. Shall I see you Friday?"

Cruella hummed in delight. "Friday would be marvelous. I’ll see you then, my dear."

"Goodbye, Cruella," you said, a shiver running through you as you used her name for the first time. How curious, you thought, as Alonzo showed you out.

Days and nights blurred together until Friday morning finally came. You checked over your stitches and hems, making sure the coat was without flaw before you put it in a garment bag and headed for the House of DeVil. You adjusted your own outfit before walking into her office, suddenly fretting about making a good appearance. There was nothing wrong with what you were wearing, but suddenly you felt self conscious for the outfit you’d decided on. Perhaps the skirt was too short after all. But it was too late to change it now.

"My coat," Cruella greeted you, a look of pure joy on her face. She did love her fur, of that there was no doubt. "And my favorite designer. I hope to hear your answer about working for me today. But first, the coat. Alonzo, leave us." Alonzo bowed out of the room, leaving you with Cruella. She wasted no time in unzipping the garment bag and revealing the finished fur coat you’d made her. It wasn’t often you got to complete a project solely with your own two hands anymore and you felt it was quite the accomplishment.

Cruella slipped the coat on as you held the hanger. "I adore it," she said, running her hands over the soft fur. As soon as she stopped admiring the coat, her eyes landed on you. Raising a hand to your chin, her red painted nails briefly traced your jawline, "and I adore you for making such a creation." You swore your heart skipped a beat at her words, and her touch.

Her hand dropped from your face and you once again, released a pent up breath. Did you always stop breathing when she was so close? "Now, my darling, have you reached a decision? I promise you won’t regret it if you say yes."

"I—" you stopped yourself. No, you couldn’t. This project had been fun, thrilling even you dare say, but one project was nothing to trade an entire career for. You’d made a name for yourself at your current fashion house. Did that really mean so little to you? "I can’t," you finally breathed out, deciding to stand your ground.

"Are you certain? Surely there’s something I could give you that your current employer cannot." There was, but you couldn’t say it, you could hardly believe you were thinking it. The impropriety of it all. You felt your cheeks burn with some mixture of shame and embarrassment. Cruella only grinned, as if she were able to read your mind.

"What if I were to make you my personal designer? You create solely for me, not the House of DeVil, just me. That would grant you certain privileges that no one else could come close to. Would you like that? Unrestricted access to me personally?" She paused for a moment, but you refused to meet her eyes. "Look at me, darling," Cruella cooed, placing a finger under your chin once more. "Think of the possibilities."

"Yes," you said, your voice unsteady.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Cruella, I accept."

Cruella DeVil (101 Dalmatians): @adelleoliviadewittwilliams

#cruella de vil #cruella de vil one shot #cruella de vil x reader #101 dalmatians #101 dalmatians one shot #request #send requests #requests open

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pudimsuki · 3 years

Note

Bakugou + pool + nsfw☺️

Pool fingering | Bakugou x reader

Hi, hope you like it ❤

Warnings: NSFW (18+ content), fingering, public place, jealousy, swearing cause it's our blasty boy, haha.

You knew you shouldn't test your luck with your hotheaded boyfriend. Of course you knew. But you did that? Well…

You’ve been teasing him all morning. Class 3-A went for a day off at the pool, planned by Kaminari and Mina, and you decided it would be a great idea to mess with your explosive lover.

First was the too-small bikini you decided to wear. Then you didn't pay much attention to him. Bakugou hates it when you don't pay attention to him. And to complete the package, you were spending way too much time with the other boys, even offering to put sunscreen on them.

Bakugou was fuming. You could tell even with your back turned to him. The way he threw daggers with his gaze at you wasn't the slightest bit subtle. The only reason he still hadn't done anything was his enormous pride, but to say jealousy wasn’t eating him alive would be a big fat lie.

He knew you were doing that on purpose. Oh, he fucking knew.

The way you bowed when talking to Kaminari, or the way you rubbed Kirishima's chest “oh so innocently” when you said he was getting stronger with his new training routine, being especially louder to make sure he would hear it.

He was getting tired of that little game you were playing. But it's when you went to that half and half bastard that he loses his shit.

“Todoroki-san, can you help me put on sunscreen? I can’t reach my lower back.”

The heterochromatic boy blinked at your question, surprised by the sudden request, but as soon as he held the bottle, Mina appeared at your side, whispering in your ear:

"Hope you know what you're doing, cause here comes the bomb."

Before you could react or respond, you felt your arm being gripped by a hand you knew all too well. Bakugou squeezed your arm, pulling you away from a stoic Todoroki who still held the filter in his hands.

“The fuck are you doing?” He growled in your ear.

You turned to face him, battering your eyelashes. “Nothing, Katsu.”

“Don’t play dumb now.” He said, red eyes burning yours. “You’re coming with me.”

You felt a shiver go up your spine, but chose to keep the facade.

“But Katsuki, I wanna swim.”

“I don’t care.”

You pout. “I wanna go to the pool.”

His jaw clenched at your behavior; you were walking on thin ice with him.

“And besides”, you proceed. “Everyone’s here, we can’t just leave now.”

He knit his brows, annoyed, but after a few seconds of deliberation, a mischievous smile came to his lips.

“You wanna go to the pool?”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, you knew where that smile came from. “Uh, I guess so.”

“Great, then we go to the pool. You've spent way too much time with these extras.” You blinked, surprised at how easy it was to convince him, but followed him as he led you to one of the corners of the bluish pool.

The cold water was a balm for the hot summer day, and you felt every pore in your body quickly getting used to the change in temperature.

"Hey man, are you going to play?" Kirishima yelled at Bakugou, raising a water polo ball.

"Nah, I'm fine. I’ll play the next round."

Kirishima just shrugged "All right."

"Are you sure you don't want to play?" You asked, knowing your boyfriend's competitive nature.

Bakugou just wrapped an arm around your waist, leaning against the wall of the reservoir, keeping some distance from the others who were already gathering to form teams for the game.

"I have other things in mind." He spoke close to your ear, his voice showing signs of his earlier irritation.

You grinned. "Aw, Katsu. Did you get jealous? That's alright, everyone knows I'm taken."

"Oh, they know. But I think you need a little reminder."

“Yeah? And what are you planning to…” You stop mid sentence, gasping. “Katsuki, what are you doing?” You inquired, feeling him run two fingers up and down your clothed sex.

“Playing with what belongs to me. Got a problem with that?”

He rubbed harder, making you squirm your legs.

“Katsuki, not here.”

“You’re not the one making the rules here, sweetheart.” He growled, holding you in place with his strong arm, your back glued to his chest. “I think you need a little punishment for being such a fucking brat.”

With that said, you felt his hand go inside your bikini panties and moaned at the direct contact. The movement of water making you extra sensitive.

You try to pull away from him, eyes wide at your classmates who are playing absentmindedly not far away.

"Don't you dare leave here. It'll be worse if you try." His voice was angry. Oh boy, you were in serious trouble. "Now this is what's going to happen. You're going to stand here like a good girl while I play with you and you're going to control your fucking voice. Your moans are for my ears only, got it?"

You just nodded quickly, holding his arm for support. You knew there was no escape the moment Bakugou put something in his head.

You stifled a moan as you felt him circling your clit slowly.

"Tell me, how funny it was to tease me, uh?"

Bakugou squeezed your little bundle of nerves between his fingers. Hard. You whimpered, shifting your legs. “Sorry Katsu.”

"Sorry Katsu." He mocks, mimicking the tone of your voice. "I should spank your ass so everyone could see my handprints through that tiny thing you call a bikini."

Any answer you could think of caught in your throat, replaced by a loud moan as Bakugou thrust two of his thick fingers at once into your tight hole.

"Didn't I tell you to control your voice?" He ranted, knuckles deep inside of you. "Or do you want everyone to listen to you, uh? Do you want them to see you purring like a little kitten with just my fingers?"

“N-no, I don’t.” You manage to babble, even with his thrusting starting.

He pulled his fingers out almost completely and thrust them back in tightly. You bite your lip, trying not to make any noise, but he could clearly hear your muffled cries.

“(Y/n)-chan!”

Your eyes widen when you hear Ochaco's voice. For a terrifying second, you think she's aware of your "lewd acts" in the water, but the giant smile she wears makes your worries slip away. In fact, from that little distance, everybody thought he’s just being weirdly affectionate and hugging you, even though he wasn't much of a PDA man. That is, at least for the time being.

You held your boyfriend's wrist, but he pretended not to notice. Instead, he started to thrust with more vigor.

"Answer it." Bakugou ordered in your ear.

"Stop." You mumble, almost desperately.

"If you don't answer her, she'll move closer. You don't want her to see how tight you get around my fingers, do you?"

Your walls contracted involuntarily, causing Bakugou to giggle behind you.

"(Y/n)-chan?" She called again and you noticed with horror that she actually started to approach.

"Ochaco!" You said, too loud to sound normal. "H-hey."

She smiles at you, still oblivious to your boyfriend's steady hand turning you into mud. "Me and the girls are going to buy ice cream. Do you want to come?"

"Uh- I..." That could be an easy way out of the current situation. Bakugou couldn't say no in front of Uraraka, but a slight squeeze on your waist told you better not to test the waters with him. "I pass, s-sorry.”

"Oh okay." She said and you thought she was going to leave, but she frowned at you instead. "Are you okay?"

"Excellent!" Again, too loud. Bakugou chuckled softly. "I'm great."

"Oh, it's just... Your expression looks a little pained."

"Oh" you replied, self moan self surprise. "The... The water! The water is cold."

“Really? I think it’s…”

"Uraraka-san!" Mina yelled from afar. You almost closed your eyes in relief. "Let's go!"

"I’m going!" With that, she said goodbye quickly and left. You breathed, releasing the moan you had been holding back.

"Holy shit,” Bakugou laughed. “I don't know if round face is too slow or if you're just a good actress."

You, on the other hand, were too busy paying attention to the movement of his fingers to laugh.

He fastened his pace, making you close your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder. You whimpered when you felt him hitting a spot that made you see stars. “Katsu, please.”

“What?” He asks above you. “You're gonna cum, princess?”

He could feel you were close, your walls tightening around the double digits. You started to feel a knot form in your stomach.

“Tell me who do you belong to.”

“You, Katsuki. I’m yours.” you cried, not really caring with anything but the feeling of his digits right now. You hoped that the loud laughter and shouts of your friends as they played covered your voice.

“Good girl.” He said, voice deep. You could feel his hard cock pressing your ass behind the fabric of both your bathing suits.

You didn’t last longer. Bakugou was quick to cover your mouth with his hand when you came. The noise you made would definitely have alerted someone closer. You closed your eyes and breathed in as he withdrew his fingers from inside you, your juices mixing with the water.

The boys called Bakugou to play the second round, but he declined by saying he wasn't in the mood. You blinked at him, still coming back from your high, wondering what he would do now, but he just kissed a spot behind your ear before whispering.

“We’re finishing this in the changing room.” He announced. “Guess It’s my turn to be pleased.”

Now, we love a jealous Bakugou, don't we?

Thank u for reading and for the support!

Angie ❤

[any comments will be answered with my main account: @angie-1306]

#300 followers event #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou smut

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adelheidvonschicksal · 3 years

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Gosh, the Hawks x intern! Reader sure made me tear up :(

Like imagine him regretting not being there for her and his baby girl from the start and trying to make up for it now 😭😭💖

I was going to imagine this, but I couldn't because I ended up writing 3000 words. 😭 I just love fictional babies so much and want them to be happy, okay? I left it open-ended, so I wouldn't betray the "kick his ass" gang. I'm a weak woman 🥺 I still don't know much about him other than what Wikipedia and memes tell me but here we go!

Part One | Part Two

Hawks doesn’t think you’ll ever let him in, not that he could blame you. Every time you see him, your expression hardens, pretty eyes narrow into a glare, nostrils flare, breathing heavy. His only bright light during your last exchange is that you wait three seconds before slamming the door in his face rather than the usual zero.

Oh, he’s definitely softening you up. Not.

It’s been a month now that he’s been at this, and he is starting to wonder if this entire thing is worth the headache. All he’s accomplished so far is bothering you with his requests to talk. Then, he remembers the little angel that you have with you and thinks it’s worth the headache.

At first, he had ignored your previous exchange that day at the park and the nagging feeling in the corner of his mind upon seeing the two of you. Until that same feeling started to weigh on his heart. He quickly realizes what those feelings were. Guilt and regret at not taking another path with the high schooler he so carelessly took advantage of and impregnated.

If he had, he could be annoying Endeavor about his cute little wife right about now.

Hawks feels a bit like Icarus flying too close to the sun and now sinking in a turbulent ocean of his own making. Instead of drowning, the world decides to throw him a lifeline as the receptionist patches a call through to him.

His heart jumps when he hears you on the other side, resistant but succumbed in your plea, “I need your help.”

The very next day you arrive at the agency, a small hand latched in your own as you stand in the middle of his office. You didn’t want to be here. The thought of being in the same place where your daughter was conceived with the same man who left you makes you antsy. You can’t believe you actually let Fumikage talk you into this.

You remember that phone conversation.

Your daughter’s quirk had been coming in full force, so fast you didn’t know how to handle it. You hoped that Tokoyami would have been able to help her control it since he trained with the very person she received her quirk from much longer than you had and that he was part avian himself.

“Please, Fumi. It’s getting worse,” you begged over the phone. “She accidentally hurt a few of the kids at school. No. No. They’re fine, some cuts and a little shook up, but fine. They won’t let her back in until she gets it under control though, so please.”

“I told you there’s not much else I can do. The best solution would be to go to the person with the same quirk.”

He’s right. He’s absolutely right, but you don’t want to rely on someone like that man especially now. What if he ended up hurting her?

“I don’t want to do that.”

“I know you don’t, but he’s been trying to contact you, right? So I'm sure he'd do it if you asked.”

“Yeah…” You growled. “I swear if he makes one smart-ass remark, I might kill him in front of her.”

“Remember it’s not for you. Although, I don’t think you could kill him even if you tried.”

“If we combined our strength…”

“No,” Tokoyami immediately shot down.

You sighed. “I’m only joking. Do you have the number to the agency still?”

Now you’re here, watching the very man who abandoned you kneel down to your daughter’s eye level. Hawks couldn’t believe he’s actually seeing her. It’s a bit exciting to see how much bigger she’s gotten in such a short time with big fat wings at her back holding way more feathers than she can probably deal with.

“So, this is the special girl,” he says. She shies away from him, hiding behind your leg for protection. “Come on out, Baby Bird, you don’t have to be scared of me.”

Slowly, she peeks from behind you, fingers still clutched in your pants leg, and Hawks smiles.

“There you are. Did your mommy tell you who I am?”

“You’re her and uncle Toko’s old teacher, and you’re going to help me control my quirk.”

“That’s right. You just turned five, right? That’s when a lot of quirks can get kind of hectic.”

“Yeah. I had a birthday party with Elsa last month.”

Hawks’ smile falters for a second as he thinks he doesn’t know exactly what day her birthday is. At least now he knows the month. Quickly, he’s back to normal to keep an air of happiness in the situation. “You know I know a lady that looks a bit like Elsa. She has ice powers like her too,” Hawks says, having grown a little closer to the number one hero's family as he tried to figure out what to do about his own family situation.

When her eyes widen, Hawks knows he has her hook, line, and sinker. She throws her initial shyness to the wind in exchange for excitement. “She does? Can I meet her?”

“I’m sure we could make that happen. If not, her son has an ice quirk, too. I’m sure he’d show you.”

The young girl smiles at him, but Hawks notices her vision drifting to something else. Cautiously, her tiny hand stretches out to him, making him nervous as to what she’s doing, before chubby fingers clutch around the edge of his wing, squeezing into his feathers. “They’re pretty,” she mumbles.

“Want one?” he asks, and she nods.

“This is my birthday present for you, don’t lose it,” he says, offering her a single long feather from the back of his wings. She clutches it to her chest tightly, a happy smile plastered on her face.

Then, you interrupt.

“Baby, mama has to run some errands, but she’ll come right back to pick you up when the clock says twelve. You remember how that looks like, right?”

“It’s a 1 and a 2,” she says, bringing up her hands to show you.

Hawks decides to walk you out as your daughter sits in his office chair, twirling around his feather in her hand. He isn’t sure what to say to you now that he has you near him. Should he thank you for bringing her? Or would that only serve to piss you off since it’s not like you wanted to do this by choice?

“Hawks,” you say, bringing him out his thoughts. “There’s one more thing before I go.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t tell her,” you order. “Don’t you dare tell her.”

His chest squeezes at that but he can understand why you wouldn’t want her to know that information when the two of you aren’t even on speaking terms outside this issue. He didn’t want to do anything to make the situation worse either, so he brings his fingers to his mouth and zips his pinched thumb and index finger across his lips. “I’ll make sure mine and anyone else’s lips are sealed if they want to keep their job,” he calmly reassures you, always calm and carefree so you wouldn’t think that your rejection is successfully deterring him.

From then on, you drop your daughter off at his office twice a week to get a better handle on her powers. You didn’t stay long aside from that, but Hawks likes the small moments when all three of you are in the same room together.

The hero can be thankful that at least one of his girls likes him. His Baby Bird quickly attached herself to him, always pattering after his footsteps like a shadow, and always asking if he’d hold her hand, a smile forming whenever he engulfed her smaller one. He even keeps his promise to let her see Rei, or Elsa as Baby Bird so passionately refers to her, now that the woman is out of the hospital.

He thinks that if that family can recover from what happened then his shouldn’t be much different as long as he keeps trying to put in the effort and not step on your toes too much.

It isn’t long before Baby Bird begins to get a hang of her powers. At least enough that she wouldn’t be hurting anyone at school. Hawks had hoped you would still allow him to train her past that point though, but you quickly told him that she wouldn’t be returning to the agency when she reached that point.

He was sad to hear it of course, but he didn’t want to cause what little progress he made to be broken even if he really wanted to see her fly at least a few inches before she left. She’s been getting into the habit of jumping instead of walking to practice like he used to do. Although, she resembles more of a bouncy frog than a bird, to be honest.

He watches, amused, as she bounces along next to him in the hallway.

“You’ve gotten good at that,” he compliments, drawing her attention upwards.

“I’ve been practicing lots at home, but I’m not that good yet. Will you teach me how to fly like you do tomorrow?” she asks.

“No, Baby Bird. Didn’t your mommy tell you that we’re done with training after today?”

She hangs her head down, her bouncing stopping as she drags her feet. “…Yes,” she answers, letting his arm go lax as she releases his hand. Hawks pauses, watching as she draws her hands to her waist and anxiously bunches and twists the bottom of her shirt, and Hawks throat goes dry as she asks with glossy eyes, “Daddy, why doesn’t mommy like you?”

He’s completely silent, wondering exactly when she figured it out or if someone in the office had told her, let alone told her the fact that you didn’t like him. Well, he guesses it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. “How do you know to call me that?"

“Yesterday, my teacher told us that we inhe-inhe-inherent our quirk from our parents. I remember you said Elsa and her son had the same quirk, and you have big wings like mine and can make your feathers move.”

Hawks smiles. She’s a sharp one to piece it together in a day. “Your teacher is right. I bet you’ve never seen anyone else that looks quite like us.”

“No,” she answers, sniffling. “I don’t want to go home. I want to stay and play with you. Mommy is so mean to you. I hate her!”

Hawks cups her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Look at me. Don’t talk about your mommy like that. It’s my fault she always gets upset when I’m around. I was mean and bullied her a lot, so if you’re mad, be mad at me. I’m the reason we can’t play together more.”

She sniffs again but it isn’t enough to stop the globs of tears running down her cheeks. “When we saw you at the park, mommy started crying when we went home. I didn’t know why she did.”

Hawks knows why. The reason you’re always so angry at him is because of the hurt you still hold inside for what he did to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have cried. The opposite of love is indifference as they say, and he knows it’s true because he had been indifferent to the pain he caused ever since the day you came to him with weepy eyes and shaking arms as you told him you were pregnant. You had been scared, and he told you to deal with it.

Hawks scowls. He’s starting to feel sick.

"If you make someone cry, you should say sorry."

Hawks smiles. “I know, baby. I'll apologize to your mama, and I’m going to try my best to make it up to her, and you, too. I’m not going to make either of you cry anymore. Then, when she forgives me, we’ll play together again.”

She looks to him, a small glimmer of hope. “You promise?”

Hawks chuckles and grins at her, the same charming expression that made you fall for him in the first place. He holds out his hand. “Even better. I pinky promise,” he says and confidently hooks her finger with his. “Repeat after me: birds of a feather stick together.”

“Birds of a feather stick together.”

“That’s my girl,” he praises before dropping her hand to pet her head. “I think we might have a little time for me to teach you something before your mommy gets here.”

At the end of the day, Hawks is already waiting for you at the front steps of the agency as your call pulls into parallel park at the sidewalk. You step out and walk towards the steps, but your daughter meets you halfway by hopping over them, her wings flapping to hover before she falls back down onto her feet.

You smile at her. You can’t believe she’s actually flying, at least a little that is, but your surprise is ruined when she cheers. “Mommy, look at what daddy taught me,” she says, bouncing to show you her new hovering skills. “Are you looking? Are you looking?”

“Yes, I’m looking. You’re so good at that. You need to show me more when we get home,” you say but to be honest it’s the last thing on your mind as you glance over to Hawks. “Baby, why don’t you go sit in the car, and I’ll be right there.”

Hawks watches as she obediently follows your instructions, turning her back and happily hopping towards the vehicle.

“(Name), I-” Hawks says, unsure what to expect when your angry glare turns back on him. It isn’t until his yellow visors are already clicking against the pavement that he realizes you hit him. He hisses at the sting on his cheek. “That actually kind of hurt. I guess I had it coming, but I’m not really sure what I did at least recently,” he tries to play off, but you aren’t having it.

“You told her, you told her,” you keep repeating, and he’s backing away in case you decide to strike him again. “Are you trying to get her on your side?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking, and I didn’t tell her,” Hawks explains. “She pieced it together on her own. She’s sharper than you think, she can see that we look alike when she looks in a mirror, and she knows how quirks work. That’s more than enough for her to tell.”

His explanation is enough for you to halt in your assault, and you angrily huff under your breath. You don’t shift to leave, and there’s no door for you to slam away. He finally has you available. “So, what do you want to do now?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she knows; and honestly, I’m glad she does,” he confesses. “I wouldn’t mind seeing her again if you’d let me.”

Hawks swallows his anxiety as he waits for you to answer. Your eyes shift from him back to where she sits in your car, fiddling with the toys obviously left to clutter in the back before you look back at him, thinking.

“She does seem to like you…for some reason,” you add distastefully, but you know full well how happy training makes her. How her little smile beamed when she fluttered over those steps. How the word daddy came from her so sweetly. “She always likes talking about you after she spends the day here. You make her happy. But that’ll just make it harder for her when you leave ag-“

“I won’t,” he cuts off.

“How do I know that?”

“You don’t but I promise not again. (Name), I’m sorry. I’m sorry for telling you to go away like a burden and for not being there. You must’ve been scared, but I won’t leave either of you alone from now on even if you don’t want me there. I’ll be there if you need me.”

“Drop it. I’m not a part of this,” you tell him.

He knows that you’re rejecting his apology, but his ears can pick up what others can’t. He can hear those soft inflections in your voice right before you harden it into aggression, the slight stutter that you so cleverly thought you hid from him as you nearly fumbled your words, a little glimpse of a teenage girl with a crush on her sensei. “Not yet but do know I plan on trying until I make you fall for me all over again. I miss your cute little face when I'd smile at you.”

You glare. “Say that again, and I will smack you in your "cute little" face.”

"You already did that, but if it makes you feel better go ahead, I can take it if it helps you forgive me.”

He just didn’t expect you to actually take him up on the offer. This time, it’s the other cheek that burns.

“You’re right. That did make me feel better,” you say, smirking as you shake the sting from your hand. Hawks grunts, rubbing his jaw as you begin to walk towards your car. He bends down to pick up his shades before following close behind. You open the driver’s door, and say, “I expect you to pick her up at 9 tomorrow. If you’re late, don’t bother showing up ever again.”

Hawks smirks. You certainly became aggressive these past few years, but he thinks he kind of likes it. As you get in your car, he notices Baby Bird smiling at him from the window, her hand up and clutched around that birthday feather he gifted to her as she waves him off.

He’ll definitely be there on time.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x y/n #bnha hawks

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