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duhragonball · 1 year

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Dragon Ball Super 127

“Oh boy, I’m so excited for my first day as a shonen protagonist! I hope nothing bad happens to my loved ones that would serve as a character-defining moment! Hey, why does my village smell like burning wood?”

This is the final phase of the Tournament of Power, where it’s just Universe 7 guys against Jiren alone. This episode, Goku, Vegeta, and 17 try to triple-team him and put an end to this.

There’s a lot of cool action in this opening portion of the episode, but we’ve got a lot to cover here, so I need to skip past it. My screencaps all suck anyway, since everything happens so fast. The short version is that they put up a hell of a fight, and just harass the crap out of Jiren, but he keeps powering through and knocking them away.

This all culminates in a moment where 17 manages to sneak up on Jiren after he repels a Kamehameha. Jiren turns and 17 fires a big ki blast into his back.

The result is a hole in Jiren’s Pride Trooper uniform, and his skin is singed a little. But it’s a big morale boost for the team, since they finally managed to get past Jiren’s guard and hurt him a little. Goku and 17 conclude that they might be able to press that advantage by doing combo moves on him and then shooting him with even bigger blasts while he’s distracted. Wait, isn’t that what they’ve been trying this whole time?

Anyway, it doesn’t work. 17 tries to snipe Jiren while Goku and Vegeta fight him, but Jiren just swats them all aside and goes after 17. There’s this cool spot where he makes multiple force fields in between them and Jiren just smashes through them one-by-one.

All three of them manage to catch Jiren in a crossfire, but that’s no good either. Jiren’s just too strong.

Frieza shows up and tries to attack Jiren, but no good. He does, however, make a fantastic point about the rules. Since Jiren is the only opponent left, then it doesn’t matter if Frieza kills him, since his team would still win anyway. So I assume he’s using lethal force for this assault, but it makes no difference. It’s entirely possible the others have already reached the same conclusion and they just haven’t said anything.

17 takes a potshot at Jiren while he’s tossing Frieza aside, and Jiren asks why he’s bothering with this futility. 17 says he has no choice. He has to fight, or his universe will end. At this, Belmod asks 17 what he’d wish for with the Super Dragon Balls. Uh.... I don’t see how those two thoughts are connected. 17 says he wants a cruise liner, and Belmod doesn’t seem too impressed. Well, it’s better than “not existing”, so what difference does it make?

17 asks Jiren what he plans to wish for, and at this, Belmod launches into the Origin Story of Jiren. Hold on, let me set up an appropriately melancholic song for this.

youtube

Well, “Hard Luck Woman” isn’t exactly the most appropriate song out there, but it’s what we’ve got.

Okay, so as a child, Jiren came home to discover his family had been killed by some ruthless villain.

He survived the massacre of his village, and a kindly old master took him in and trained him in the martial arts.

Jiren made a lot of friends during that time, and eventually they tried to fight the bad guy who killed his family... and they lost. Badly. Jiren’s master was killed, and even though Jiren tried to rally the survivors, none of them wanted to try again.

This left Jiren completely disillusioned with trust in other people. He began to pursue strength as the only thing worth possessing.

His interpersonal relationships are defined by success rather than loyalty. As far as Jiren is concerned, groups like the Pride Troopers only support him because he can win battles. In turn, he only works with them because it affords him opportunities to get stronger.

17 suggest that Jiren’s more sentimental than he likes to let on. Obviously, he’s planning to use the Super Dragon Balls to undo the tragedies that happened during his lifetime, right? But Jiren says no. He doesn’t trust anyone, not even Super Shenron. So he’s going to wish for total control over all of time and space. That way trust will be irrelevant, and he can just be in control of everything, I guess.

So I remember when this episode came out, there was a lot of fan criticism over it. I’m not sure I ever understood what the problem was. Maybe they just didn’t like Jiren having an origin at all? Maybe the parallels with Goku were too cute? People didn’t like it, but I don’t have strong opinions about it. Jiren has trust issues, and the story Belmod told seems to account for them well enough, so I can buy it. It fits.

This whole arc has seen Universe 11 talk about Jiren like he’s a magic wand they can use to solve all their problems. They’re very pleased to have him on their team, but it’s like they don’t even see him as a person. That’s not entirely fair to the U11 group. The Pride Troopers respect him a great deal, and Belmod took the time to learn Jiren’s story, and he seems very moved by it. Sure, they love his incredible power, and it might seem like that’s all they care about, but they’re in a pretty bad situation right now. They’re desperate for a way to survive. That doesn’t mean they don’t like Jiren or care about him. They clearly do.

But from Jiren’s perspective, that’s very hard to see. He’s surrounded by people who constantly depend on him to solve their problems, but no one was there for him to solve his, and that’s left him bitter and resentful.

So he fires this big blast to wipe out the U7 boys once and for all, but 17 seems to be the only one still on his feet. He jumps over to where Goku and Vegeta are laying and puts up a bunch of forcefields, including a bubble around each of them. Then he apparently self-destructs in order to disperse the energy of Jiren’s attack.

Jiren is amazed that 17 would go to such lengths to buy a little recovery time for his teammates. He’s not impressed, though, because this is the sort of trust that he’s rejected long ago.

Oh, and since 17 self-destructed to stop Jiren’s attack, that means it wasn’t Jiren who killed him, which means Jiren will not be disqualified. So the tournament continues.

Vegeta is the first one back to his feet, and he prepares to fight Jiren alone. He promises to get the job done, but come on, who are we kidding here? But like 17 said earlier, it doesn’t really matter what anyone thinks about this. They simply have no choice but to keep fighting.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #tournament of power

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dragonofthestone · 7 months

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In terms of fighting style I think Tim would end up forming a habit of moving in away that kind of leans into his right side, trying to shift and move around his opponent to keep them in view while also protecting his right side,

Despite mostly right handed for things he'd likely also end up learning or at least coming to prefer using a sword/ weapon in his left hand , gives him a little more control - at the same time to an extent he'd probably work on even just on his own learning to do at least so basics with both so if really necessary he can pull a switch and fight with the other you know.

He certainly takes advantage of his height and while he tries to suppress/control a lot of the animal instinct / side during combat (especially if it's just a casual sparring session)

Done for multiple reasons even after he's start to come more to terms with it being a part of who they are and not wanting to reject it so much,

First and foremost is actually less the fight aspect and more having to over come and be able to control / fight against the innate instinct to Free or Flee. Sure sometimes very useful and worth listening but there's also times that no matter how much the animal in him may scream to that he'd learn to recognize that flight is not an option (and freeze sure as hell ain't either)

Last thing he needs is to find himself fleeing from a situation when someone needs him to fight.

Now never to the extent of completely ignoring or treating fleeing as bad, after all sometimes flight is the best option to protect yourself or another but would be a problem if he allowed that instinctual desire/feeling to just override.

There is of course the alternate of trying to keep from the fight, not only from their simple desire of not liking to fight and tries to find other options if possible but because there's a slippery slope.

It's one thing to agree to a fight or fighting back to protect but he knows and can feel that if he's not careful the more animal instinct to fight could take over. The beastly more vicious side that the White Coats must have so desperately wanted out of them- it's there somewhere deep inside and the thought of losing control terrifies him.

Now controlling/suppressing them doesn't mean he flat tries to block out or ignore them and often following them is the right course of action but it's not allowing himself to simply given. That even if every part of him is screaming to run he's able to stay and fight against it (or vice versa being able to choose to run even if something else is telling him to fight instead)

Overtime a lot of the way he fights would develop a strong lean towards defense more then offense, trying avoid inflicting as much harm as possible.

While his memories of the lab go from none existent to pretty hazy most of the time, with a lot of what he remembers coming more down to feelings / sensations , smells or a sound over specific details one thing he remembers or at least holds a strong feeling about is having killed. Who or why he couldn't say. Part of one of their experiments? Or did someone get to close? Whose to say but he's sure its happened.

Knowing that possibility exists, I don't think he could bring himself to promise or make any sort of vow about not killing because he wouldn't feel confident he could keep it. He sure as hell doesn't want to nor likes the idea of it, if it can be avoided if there are other options Tim will more then willingly take those first but at the back of his mind there's a part the he knows if really pushed, left with no other options and felt like he had to he just might do it (and knows that he could )

What he can offer how ever is he can and will be merciful and will avoid harm where/when possible - to take a life is only ever their very last resort if there truly is no other choice.

#; fighting #I haven't written much of him actively fighting so never heavily delved into thought about it #long post

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doubledgesword-2 · 3 years

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Hello lovely! How pe you’re having a nice weekend!💕

I saw that your requests are open and I was wondering if I could request a head cannon or Drabble of adult trip with a blind darling??

Hope you have a nice day!💕✨

Aww yeeesh! I did have a lovely day and a nice weekend, thank you so much! Here's your nice cup of Rose tea hon, enjoy it!

WARNING TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF AND A LIL BIT OF OOC! ENJOY!

Chrollo

Whether you were born like this or you had an accident that took your sight, it doesn't matter; Chrollo would do everything for you.

And when I say everything, I mean every little thing, from guiding you around the room to bathing you or showering with you to help.

"Chrollo, I can do it; you don't have to worry" you chuckle nervously as his hand gently scrub your arm; you feel his fingers gently rub the soap on your shoulder, and you're hoping he can't see you blush.

"Hush, dear, and let me love you" he kisses your shoulder, and you shudder at the feeling of his warm lips against your skin.

When you casually ask how the clouds look like or what color is the ocean, or what color are the trees this time of the year, his eyes tear up a bit. He looks at you with a drunk love look and a warm smile.

You're so perfect for him, because him being a romantic, this is the perfect time to be poetic.

He will find an object that's very soft and very fluffy in texture; his hand will take yours and slowly drag it through the material so you can feel every single fiber of it.

"That's how clouds are like, love. This time of year, the trees are red, and that's like cinnamon, and the ocean is blue, and aqua and those are like salty blueberries."

"Ewww!" You laughed, and he chuckled, still holding your hand in his. This moment was a real treasure for him.

"May I see how You look like?" He immediately tears up. This boi is low key the most sentimental in situations like these ones. He can't help but be overwhelmed. Sure he's a thief, but he's a humble one, albeit unfair on occasions but never with you.

Chrollo takes your hands and places them on his cheek. Your fingers feel so soft on his skin, almost like you're afraid to damage him. They glide over his nose, feeling how it arches, over his eyebrows and his eyelids.

Then they pass over the cross on his forehead into his hair, caressing it until your arms are looped around his neck and you hug him close, your ear on his chest listening to his racing heartbeat.

"You have a strong heart" You can't see how his cheeks are tinted pink or how his breathing has picked up because, dammit, you're amazing at getting these kinds of reactions out of him.

He will read to you, even though you have learned Braille. He wants you to be drunk on his voice and the passionate way he makes the story's impressions.

No one, and I mean no one, is allowed to begin a demeaning sentence towards you or some comment about your blindness that makes you uncomfortable. He will shut them up with one look and the flare of his aura.

When you guys go out, he insists on guiding you even though sometimes you have held him back before a car could run him over because he was too focused on taking care of you. He didn't see the vehicle coming. Ironic.

"That was a close one, don't you think?" He kissed the crown of your head, holding you close as the two of you kept walking to your destination. "Now, do you believe I can take care of myself?"

"We'll see," he chuckles.

Illumi

Your encounter with Illumi is always a tale to tell.

You see, you were at a coffee shop, drinking your favorite drink and eating a nice treat/pastry when he passed you by dropping one of his pins in the process. He had been so tired and beat that he didn't even notice. First one right there.

"Excuse me, sir," You bend over and felt for the big round top of the pin until your fingers grasped it and held it tight, minding the other pointy side. "You dropped this" Illumi doesn't say anything in acknowledgment. He simply extends his hand to you.

But you are not giving him the pin, and this annoys him so much. Then his eyes look up to yours. They are blueish but glazed over and almost white. You're blind. Illumi reaches for your hand, startling you for a quick second, but he picks the pin and lets go.

"Is this seat taken?" He asks suddenly, and you smile towards his voice.

"Go right ahead."

That day Illumi was so intrigued by you that he couldn't help but stalk you a bit, you know, for research purposes in case he ever finds an opponent like you.

But it turns into so much more.

He meets you every day he can, no matter where he goes with you. He makes no effort to help you, though, and don't expect him to do so. He appreciates you too much, and in his mind, you're like a wild cardinal, and if he were to help you, it's like putting you in a cage. Once he lets you free again, you won't know how to survive on your own.

He wants you free. He loves you free.

But that doesn't mean he won't be there for you or step in when circumstances are far too grave for you to handle.

"Llumi, how does the sky look today?"

"Gray. It's going to rain" his response makes you chuckle; you have never seen gray, but his honesty makes you smile. You outgrew your frustrations about this situation a long time ago.

"Can we stay to feel the rain? I want to smell the petrichor once it's over" Illumi looks at you with the same expression he gives everyone. He knows you might catch a cold standing in the rain; he doesn't understand why all you said would be relevant. But then he reminds himself, he has taken for granted all of these things because he can see them.

"Only a couple of minutes once its starts. If it gets bad, we'll go inside. You can smell the petrichor afterward" he holds your hand, and you two sit there on the park bench.

Illumi doesn't get cuddly or lovey-dovey with you. Still, he will allow himself moments where he can't help but admire you and be grateful for having you in his life. He will never say that. Ever. But he'll think it.

One time he entered your apartment and found you sitting on the rug in the living room, reading Braile.

"Illumi is so nice to hear you today. How was your day?" He's always impressed by your ability to sense him. When he asked once how you could recognize him if he was so quiet, you said you could feel his presence in the room since it was calming to you even when he tried to conceal himself. This melted his heart.

"What are you reading" He came to sit on the sofa, his legs brushing your arms like a loving gesture. Your hand grabbed his leg, squeezing him in recognition, and then went back to the book.

"Would you like me to read it to you?"

"Yes," It was a lovely evening that day.

Just like Chrollo, he's very protective of you since his line work makes him kind of famous, some people are bound to have seen you and try to get to you to get to him, and this is where Illumi draws the line.

Rest assured, no one will touch a single hair on your head if he has his way. The beginning of his bloodlust alone is enough to make everyone panic and turn away.

"Illumi, hon is alright, I'm here, I'm right here. Look at me" you would open the curtain of his luscious hair to hold his face and make him look at you. "I'm fine, see?"

"They are not worth it," he says after holding you close to him. He'll kill them later.

Hisoka

This little shit will always be a little shit, in this case, a loving and understanding one, but still, the point remains.

You bumped into him on the streets, and the minute it happened, it annoyed him so much. He was in the process of turning and giving you your dues when he noticed you had actually stopped and been grabbing his wrist.

"I apologize, I'm so sorry" you're not looking at him, and that annoys him even further.

That's until he notices your vacant look and your body language. You may not be looking at him, but your whole body is poised to listen. Listen to him.

"Are you blind?" He blurts out but not really; his smirk says it was intentional.

"All my life, sir," you chuckle, letting his wrist go and leaning a bit on your white cane.

This makes him giggle, and he invites you for a coffee if you're available.

The rest after that marks your relationship.

Hisoka behaves like a child whenever he's around you. He hides his presence to try and scare you, but you can always sense him. You can even imagine him pouting as you find him and poke him with your cane.

"Not fair, little fruit."

"You smell like bubble gum, hon," you chuckle, bringing him down to kiss his cheek.

He holds you close and loves when you let yourself go and depend on him a little.

Lke him cooking for you, doing some chores around the house (He doesn't have to, and you tell him that, but he just says you'll have to reward him later), and the two of you baking together—with him covering you in flour as much as he can without you noticing.

"Soka, I know my cheeks and forehead are white; you are a terrible boyfriend, love."

"Mmmmm, so mean, (Y/N)-chan" He kissed you as he puts more flour on your nose.

Hisoka knows he has to leave for extended periods since he can't stay put in one place plus his job. But will always call you and answer your phone calls no matter if he's fighting with someone at the moment.

"My precious darling, I *grunts* I'm in the middle of breaking someone's arm at the moment *huffs* can I call you later, love?" You cringe at the sound of the bone-breaking over the phone but chuckle slightly at his antics.

"Yes, you can, Be safe" oh, oh, oh he loves your concern for him. It just makes him moan obscenely in the middle of the fight, making his opponent disgruntled and allowing him to finish them off.

"On second thought, dear, we can talk right now. I'm currently free."

He will bring you stuff from his travels and jobs, all with different textures and pleasant smells so you can experience them.

Now this, this is the moment of truth. While you're distracted touching everything he brought, he takes away his texture surprise. Suddenly he lifts your hand to touch his hair, then his face and arms.

"How does this one feels, mmm?" He hides the fact that he's nervous by being playful, but you can feel him being stiff.

"It feels soft," then your fingers gingerly brush a big scar over his chest "it feels like no matter what, I love you. Like you can trust me with each one of these"

He won't admit it, but it's nice that you can't tease him for his blushing cheeks and aghast expression. But he chuckles to alleviate the lump in his throat as he takes your hands in his and pulls you in for a hug.

When the two of you go out, he's always holding your hand, or you're holding his arm. He has convinced you to not use your white cane while walking with him. He'll be your eyes.

The moment someone bumps into you…

"Hey, watch where you're going, woman!"

"Oh, so, so sorry, sir," you apologize, and Hisoka is smiling at the man.

"Yeah, you better be"

"Little fruit, do you want to know how fluttering butterflies feel?" As he says so, your face is tickled by a lot of fluttering little wings, and the experience mutes the man's screaming as he Hisoka gently drags you away.

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sierraraeck · 3 years

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Bad Liar

Moreid (Spencer x Derek)

Masterlist

Summary: Ever since his first day at Quantico, Spencer has had only one thought on his mind: SSA Derek Morgan. He knows that any sort of relationship would be inappropriate, but that doesn’t stop the constant stream of fantasies from flooding his mind.

Category: Spicy fluff, smut alluded

Warnings: Non-graphic descriptions of sex, fantasizing, suggestive touching, kissing, very light cussing.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This was inspired by the song “Bad Liar” by Selena Gomez. If you wanna give that a quick listen, go for it, if not, that’s chill too. I know that I haven’t been very active and haven’t posted anything in a while, but sometimes life just happens. Hopefully this was worth the wait…

Spencer had heard the phrase “I never stop thinking about you.” He’d heard it in reference to love and relationships when people were apparently so madly in love they couldn’t stop thinking about the other. He never really bought that. Love was just a bunch of feel-good chemicals that couldn’t affect the amount of time spent thinking about another person. Plus, how could anyone ever constantly think about a person? There were so many other things to think about like surviving high school, getting into college, graduating, of course his mom, and then getting into the FBI, and how he would surely not be able to make it all the way through Quantico training. No one could ever think about one person all the time. No, definitely not.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

His first day at Quantico he saw Derek Morgan, and he realized that he was wrong. He was so utterly and outrageously wrong.

Because after he saw him, heard his voice just once, his exceptional mind kept those interactions on constant repeat.

He was lucky he was so good at multitasking otherwise he would have definitely failed by now.

Not like he still wouldn’t.

He couldn’t sleep, not with someone like Derek Morgan intruding his every thought, every midnight desire. On top of that, they were about to go into the hardest week of physical training yet, and Spencer knew that this was the one challenge that his brain could not overcome.

The one redeemable thing about the humiliating experience he was sure would come during the following days was that he’d get to see SSA Morgan again. Sure, it'd be more embarrassing to fail in front of him, but at least he’d get to see him a few more times before they kicked him out for being the scrawny kid he’s always been.

The feelings of excitement and anxiety twisted his gut into a wonderful knot, keeping him from yet another night of sleep. Somehow that made it both harder and easier for him to get up when the clock hit 4:45.

Spencer looked between two blinds covering the window on the right, allowing him to see that the sun was still about an hour from rising. Slipping on his given shirt and pants, he hoped that there would be some source of caffeine at breakfast, preferably coffee.

He trudged into the bathroom to find his roommate already awake and dressed. “Big day. You excited?” Jeff, a man about a head shorter than Spencer but at least twice his width in pure muscle mass, asked.

Spencer just grunted in response.

“What? You’re not excited to get pitted against someone else so that you can flail around in an attempt to spar?”

“I’ll stick to teaching you the technique,” he quipped.

Jeff laughed. “It’d suit you better. Unfortunately your wizard brain and forbidden library won’t help you in this one. But dammit if you aren’t the smartest guy here.” Jeff shook his head as if it were a shame.

Once they were ready, along with the rest of the NATs, the group was directed to jog across campus to the building they’d be training in. The day was off to a bad start.

Spencer did his best to distract himself from the actual running bit, trying to analyze the people in his group and those they passed as they went.

Bored, hungry, important, invisible… Derek?!

He turned his head to follow the tall man with short black hair and dark eyes as the group passed him on the sidewalk.

No, that wasn’t him. Of course it wasn’t. Agent Morgan is waiting for us at the facility.

Spencer tried to hide the slight disappointment that came over him. He felt so stupid for looking for him everywhere, but he couldn’t help it. Even his own knowledge and logic was failing him when it came to this man he knew next to nothing about expect for his shining smile and intense eyes and toned biceps and amazing abs and powerful legs and delicious stamina and strong hands that could grip his neck and hold him down and his defined hips bones that Spencer knew would dig into his thighs and certainly leave bruises if he were to…

What was his issue? He couldn’t be thinking that way about one of his trainors.

Although it helped the jog pass by faster. Time flies when you’re having fun, right? Or at least imagining having fun.

When they arrived at the other facility, they were provided a quick breakfast, unfortunately no coffee today, and then led to the top floor with an entire wall traded out for floor to ceiling windows.

The room they entered was massive, large mats rolled out edge to edge, and the smell was musty. It felt humid, sticky sort of, and Spencer hated to think about why that was.

He quickly scanned the room and found his target immediately. Across the way, Derek had his opponent mid flip, landing harshly on his back with a thud. He helped the poor guy up, laughing a bit as he did so. His pearly whites were on full display when he looked up and caught Spencer’s eye. Spencer quickly diverted his gaze, opting instead to look down at his twisting hands.

“Today we will be focusing on hand to hand combat,” Derek announced once the group had wandered closer. “You never know when the perpetrator will decide not to run and instead to attack you, or when you will find yourself without any weapons other than yourself to protect you. The first thing we are going to practice are some basic jabs. Grab a partner and follow our demonstration.”

Derek and the man he’d thrown on the ground earlier, Grant, demonstrated the seemingly simple movements that Spencer and the rest of the NATs were supposed to replicate. Of course, everyone else made it look easy, but Spencer just couldn’t wrap his head around what his arm was supposed to be doing where and when. It was frustrating, even more so than he’d prepared himself for.

“Keep your shoulders here,” that velvety deep voice said, accompanied by his large hands on either of Spencer’s shoulders, adjusting them to more of an angle.

All Spencer could do was swallow hard and nod. He didn’t even dare to look back at him.

“And spread your legs,” Derek said. His breath seemed to get closer to Spencer’s neck with every word, and quieter as he went along. But surely that was all in his head? Right?

Spencer’s startled eyes turned to look at the older man. The edges of his mouth twitched before resuming that stern, professional demeanour. “It’ll help you balance.” With that, he nudged Spencer’s foot farther backwards with his own and walked away, leaving Spencer feeling unnecessarily exposed and confused.

The guy across from him, Harold, one of the only people who had been genuinely nice to Spencer from the start, was watching the whole interaction with suspicion.

The day trudged on with not much change. Spencer’s skin was still on fire from where Agent Morgan had touched him, but he tried to convince himself it was because he didn’t really like being touched. He knew that was a lie, especially in this instance, but it didn’t stop him from telling it.

After lunch, training continued. But at least it got more interesting.

“Grant just got called out on a case, so I’ll be needing someone to help me with this demonstration.” Derek waited just about three whole seconds before smirking, the mischief written all over his face. “Come on? No one wants to volunteer? It’ll be fun, I promise.” When he was met with more silence (even the guys like Jeff didn’t want to be thrown around by Derek), he was forced to choose someone. “How about… Reid.”

Spencer’s head shot up from the back of the group. No, no, this is not good.

Spencer had been dreaming about getting thrown around by Derek for a few months now, but this was definitely not what he’d had in mind.

The crowd slowly parted and Spencer had to face the music; he was going to be humiliated in front of everyone, like nothing had changed since high school.

Sighing, Spencer forced himself to the front of the group. “Lay down for me, knees bent, would you?”

I’d do anything you asked, was Spencer’s initial response in his head. What he really did was shrug and follow instructions.

“The reason we practice this move is because at some point or another, you will find yourself in either position.” Spencer wasn’t quite sure what he meant by that until Derek legitimately stood over him, a leg on either side, then proceeded to get down on his knees, essentially sitting on top of Spencer.

He couldn’t even focus on what Derek was explaining anymore. Breathing didn’t exist. There was no way this glorious man was sitting on top of him right now. All he could think about was how prominent Derek’s ab muscles were through his tight shirt and how he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and run his tongue over them. Spencer could almost imagine what they would feel like; the rise and fall of his muscles, the small hairs covering his body… Spread your legs, he had said to him.

“So then Reid would grab my wrist…” Derek’s use of his name brought him back to reality. If only he could live in his fantasies for longer.

Spencer looked up at Agent Morgan confused. Derek’s eyes got wider and looked at his right hand and then down at his own left wrist. Spencer somehow got the message and reached his hand over to grab a hold of Derek’s wrist. “Good,” he declared. “After that, he would hook his left foot on the outside of my ankle.”

Spencer quickly followed orders, trying to force his brain to supply him with the information he’d missed.

“Then, he’d use my weight against me to flip me over.” Spencer’s eyes got big when Derek said that, mentally panicking that he could never be strong enough for that. Derek nodded at him, so Spencer tried to roll over, and to his, and everyone else’s, surprise, he actually could.

Within seconds Spencer was sitting on top of a very pleased Derek. “It’ll work every time. Of course, if your unsub is skilled he’ll lock you in and flip you back over and potentially pull your arm out of your socket,” Derek explained while doing just that to Spencer, minus the arm-out-of-socket thing, “But we’ll take this one step at a time.”

Derek was back on top of Spencer with his legs wrapped around him in a vice-like grip, but quickly let go to help him up. Spencer gladly accepted the help.

Spencer doesn’t exactly have what one would consider a “big dick.” He always thought that was something to be ashamed of but standing there, getting hard in the middle of an FBI training academy, he couldn’t’ve be more grateful.

The NATs were sent back to work on the newly demonstrated move with their partners. Just as Spencer was about to flip Harold over for the third time, he looked over his head and rolled his eyes.

“What?” Spencer asked.

“What is it with you two?” Harold asked in return.

“What?” Spencer repeated. Harold nodded in the direction he was just looking, and Spencer followed his gaze. Derek was walking by, but nothing else seemed of import. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please,” Harold snorted. He was a lanky man like Spencer, but just a bit shorter and with glasses. Sometimes Spencer envied his glasses, as his contacts often got on his nerves. He continued, “The touching, the constant eye contact, the word choice that could be inherently sexual, and then literally sitting on top of you? When there were plenty of other men and women he could have picked for that demonstration? Tell me you don’t see it.”

Spencer mulled over these words for a few seconds before flipping Harold over. Looking down on him, he said, “I don’t think that means anything.”

“Then maybe you need to get a new prescription,” Harold said, pointing to his eyes.

Spencer shook his head. “What do my eyes have to do with this?”

Harold sighed. “God, your gaydar is so broken.” He flipped Spencer over, stood up, and walked away.

Shortly after, class was called and they were all let go for the remainder of the evening.

“Reid, can I speak to you for a moment?” Agent Morgan called out as the first of the NATs started to leave. A few caught Spencer’s eye with unanswered questions in them, but no more than the mound of questions Spencer had been asking himself.

Without answering, Spencer walked over to the corner of the room that Derek was standing in. He could tell that he was waiting for every single person to leave the room before speaking.

Spencer thought for sure he was getting kicked out because of how horribly he performed throughout the day.

To his surprise, that’s not at all what the outstandingly attractive man had to say. “I wanted to let you know that you did a good job today during the demo. Not many people handle that so well.”

Spencer waited for him to say more, but nothing more seemed to be coming. Derek actually seemed a bit nervous if Spencer could read him right. He replied cautiously, “Thanks.”

Derek cleared his voice and said, “Yeah. And if you ever want to stay late and work on some moves I’d be happy to help.”

Spencer just got more and more confused as his interactions with this god-like man increased. “Thanks,” he repeated. “Why are you offering to help me like that?”

Agent Morgan shrugged. “You’re one of the smartest people in FBI history to come through here, and definitely the youngest. There’s absolutely no reason you shouldn’t become an agent, and I want to see you succeed. That’s all.” He shrugged again, and if there was anything Spencer had learned from the profiling section of his training, someone being over-casual was usually a sign that they were stressed about something they viewed with extreme importance, and were trying to play it off. Why would he be stressed to talk to me?

“I guess I’ll take you up on that offer. Will you be here tomorrow?” Spencer asked, trying to mask the hope in his voice. Who was he kidding; Derek was already one of the top profilers in the Bureau.

“I will be. You can plan to stay after then.”

Spencer nodded and walked away, but not before glancing back one more time. Harold was right; they did make a lot of eye contact.

The next day couldn’t go by faster. Spencer had spent practically the entire night thinking about everything that had happened, trying to figure out if Harold was right or not. There was no way. Spencer was just Spencer, a NAT, and Derek Morgan was, well… Derek Morgan.

He probably just thought that Spencer was a hopeless case and needed extra help. Yeah, that was it. It had to be.

When the day was over, Spencer wasn’t just relieved like he usually was, but he was excited too. It no longer mattered to him what the reason was for him being there late, he just wanted to spend more time in the presence of SSA Morgan.

“I was thinking I’d help you with that second move we learned today, the cross-punch jab combo,” Derek announced. His voice echoed just a bit off the walls of the training center now that it was completely abandoned.

He walked over to one of the punching bags lined up just a few feet from the wall, and Spencer followed him in a manner that could only be described as a lost puppy. Spencer could keep track of all sorts of numbers, but the sheer amount of repeating memories morphing into new thoughts morphing into full blown fantasies was even too high for him to count. He’d never known of a drug so powerful.

“I’ll show you the move again, then I want you to try and copy it.” Derek stepped closer to the bag and executed a textbook one-two combo, the muscles in his arms and back contracting in perfect unison. God, Spencer wanted so badly to just reach out and run his hands all over this pristinely sculpted man, but he denied himself, letting his hands tremble in place instead.

Spencer stepped up to the bag next to Derek’s and attempted to do the same thing. Derek watched with a sharp eye.

After a few reps, the skilled agent took long strides that landed him only inches away from the younger man’s back. “Keep tension here.” His hands engulfed Spencer’s waist and twisted them to the side with the ease of swatting a fly.

The feeling was so overwhelming Spencer thought he might never be able to move again, and honestly, he didn’t want to. Standing there in the grip of that man was really all he’d been wanting for months now.

The only thing that pulled him out of his trance was the way Derek’s fingers lingered as he walked around to Spencer’s front, drifting down far enough to send a clear message, one that even Spencer couldn’t miss, but not far enough to be completely intrusive.

But Spencer wanted intrusive. He wanted nothing more than for Derek Morgan to invade his personal space to the point of no return.

He looked at the older man with shock and a burning question, but didn’t flinch or move back. Derek simply bit his lip and scanned Spencer up and down at what felt like a snail’s pace. He felt like a helpless deer being sized up by a lion for his next meal.

Spencer swallowed hard.

He’d been wanting nothing more than to be in this very same situation, or one of the multitudes of variations he’d created in his mind, but now that it was here could he really go through with it? Was it really the best idea? Did he really want this? No, he couldn’t.

But Spencer wasn’t known for being a good liar.

The only signal Derek needed was the simple nod of Spencer’s head.

And he got it.

Like a snake ready to strike, Derek brought his lips to Spencer’s in an instant. His questioning fingers had an answer, returning to their strong hold over Spencer’s hip bones.

Spencer knew what was happening was completely inappropriate, but couldn’t find the will to care. The man he’d been dreaming about, spending every waking and non-waking moment obsessing over, was actually interested in him too.

All his fantasies were flashing before his eyes, Derek’s muscles now completely exposed to him. He frantically pawed at him, trying to feel and memorize every millimeter of the beautiful body before him, like every inch was another drop of water in his achingly dry mouth.

“Hey, hey,” Derek whispered. “Patience. Not everything can happen at once, remember, one step at a time.”

Spencer took a moment to breathe and look into the warm eyes he’d been drowning in. Only for a moment, though, as he had a lot he wanted to do, starting with kissing his way down this man’s chest.

Derek laughed a little at Spencer’s impatience when he placed his hands on his broad shoulders and lips on his burning hot skin. He didn’t mind, though. Unexpectedly, the young man knew how to use his mouth. He couldn’t wait to explore that particular skill set some more.

Within the next few minutes, bodies were slammed into walls, forced to the ground, and pushed further down into the floor than was previously thought possible. The echo of the room only amplified the intoxicating sounds and the wall of windows overlooking the campus only increased the arousal.

Spencer would have a new appreciation for the musty smell and sweat induced humidity in the room from now on.

The tension for the remaining month before the NATs graduated was unbearable. Harold made sure to point out the nauseating amount of glances passed between the two men, but was respectful enough to not point it out to everyone. He tried to deny anything had happened, but Harold wasn’t having any of it and let Spencer know he was a lousy liar, something he definitely needed to work on.

Come graduation day when all NATs would be receiving their department assignments, Derek made sure to personally hand Spencer his.

He carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper with one bolded line reading: “Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Spencer immediately looked up and locked eyes with Derek. He simply smirked in return.

Maybe his fantasy of having something more with the agent would become a reality after all.

Taglist

@90spumkin

#criminal minds fanfic #derek x spencer #moreid #dr spencer reid fanfic #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #spencer reid #reid #derek morgan #morgan

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jinmukangwrites · 3 years

Text

Whumptober 2021 - October 7th - Blindness

Gift fic for @sassydefendorflower

Fandom: Nightwing, Batman - All Media Types

AO3

Warnings: Head Injury, slight descriptions of blood

---

Slade dodges under the swinging blow of Blüdhaven’s newest sewer monster; born from whatever chemicals a rat has gotten into near some chemist-based super-villain’s old hideout. Now, while it’s not everyday Slade goes out of his way to take down various monsters across the ‘Haven, this time… he feels a little obligated to.

Yes, he is the reigning champion of being Nightwing’s least favorite and most powerful villain, but unfortunately Nightwing is Slade’s favorite and most interesting opponent. He came to the ‘Haven to give the kid a head’s up that he has a mark in the city; a regular challenge he likes to set for the kid to try and stop him. However, when he didn’t find Nightwing along any of his normal routes, nor in his apartment, he turned to the news to see if the kid had left for Gotham or some other city without him noticing; preparing to postpone this mark until he was back in his patron city and away from other bats.

It was then he noticed the breaking news that a giant, sewage themed rat was wreaking havoc under Blüdhaven’s streets in the downtown areas, near a major subway platform. Nightwing was spotted going in, telling people to stay out, and he hasn’t been seen since.

Of course, Slade went to the fight, and it’s a good thing he did. When he got there, he found Nightwing limp in the creature’s tail, held inches from it’s long and jagged front teeth. Blood trailed down the side of his skull in a steady flow. Slade knew immediately he was unconscious.

He took out one of his pistols and shot at the rat, but the monster was so large and feral it hardly did anything when it went into its arm. It dropped Nightwing like a sack of flour onto the ground, snarling as it turned to it’s newest threat, drool dripping down it’s snout. Slade pulled out his swords and faced it head on.

The creature, while lacking any intelligence, was fast and powerful. Even Slade had trouble ducking under its tail that it used like a club and avoiding its powerful legs and jaw. While it’s disappointing to see Nightwing taken down by a creature as low as this, he can’t exactly blame the kid when it takes himself several minutes to finally get his sword through the thing’s tail. He cuts off the appendage, then while the monster screeches in agony, he pierces its throat.

It goes down twitching and gurgling, its blood bubbling down into the sewer's already questionable streams of water. He whips his swords out, getting off a majority of the wretched blood, then heads over to his unconscious person of interest.

Nightwing doesn’t move as he kneels down beside him, in fact he’s still in the rather undignified position he had been dropped in. Frowning, Slade moves Nightwing into a better position that won't strain his spine and smacks his face lightly to wake him up. He doesn’t even twitch, causing Slade to frown more. His head is still bleeding, which is worrisome. He grabs a tube of smelling-salts from his pouch—usually used to wake up people he’s previously knocked out to get some information out of them—and firmly places it under Nightwing’s nose. A solid few seconds pass before Nightwing’s eyes shoot open under his domino mask; his hands fly out to his face to stifle coughs and he rocks forward so he’s sitting instead of laying down.

Slade doesn’t try to make conversation quite yet, more worried about that head injury. He holds Nightwing by the jaw to tilt his head and get a better look, but Nightwing reacts like the touch was electrified. He smacks Slade’s arms away and jumps to his feet, stumbling back and holding out a single escrima. Slade doesn’t know where the other one went.

“Sit back down,” Slade growls, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Nightwing flinches at the initial sound of his voice, his mouth dropping open in shock before lowering his single weapon slightly.

“Slade?” he asks, his voice slurred.

Slade resists sighing, and lifts his eyebrow. Who else would it be? It’s not that dark here, even with Slade’s heightened senses. Nightwing doesn’t relax completely though, as if waiting for an answer. Not for the first time that night, another spike of worry rises in his chest.

“Kid, sit down or I’ll make you sit down.”

Nightwing almost goes boneless after that, breathing a single ”thank fuck” before sinking to his ass and putting his head in his hands with a groan.

Now Slade does sigh, even rolling his eyes as he does so, as he once again approaches Nightwing and grabs onto his face to look at the wound. Nightwing hisses and flinches out of his grasp.

“Don’t,” he says, “I already know how bad it is.”

Slade hums, folding his arms across his chest. “How bad is it then?”

Nightwing remains quiet for a moment, biting his lip, perhaps internally fighting with himself on whether or not it’s a good idea to tell one of his biggest enemies about how injured he is. Eventually, Nightwing makes the smart choice and speaks anyway, knowing Slade will find no pleasure in ending him if he's already down.

“Head feels like a war-drum. Feel like ‘m gonna throw up. Voice slurred… ears ringing… I-” Nightwing hesitates. Then sighs. “I can’t see.”

“You can’t see?” Slade repeats, kneeling down to once again take Nightwing’s face in his hands. Nightwing fights the grasp, but this time Slade holds strong and takes off the mask, revealing unfocused electric-blues.

“Nothing, it’s all black,” Nightwing whispers, a slight wobble in his voice that Slade is sure he’s trying to keep down.

He grabs a small flashlight from his tools and shines it in Nightwing’s eyes, frowning as there’s hardly any reaction in the pupils. He clicks off the light and releases Nightwing, thinking of options.

He’s sure the last thing the kid’ll want is to get dumped at the hospital, but Slade’s no medical expert, especially with something as fragile as a normal human’s brain.

He sighs, as only one option realistically reveals itself. The last thing Slade wants to do is risk Nightwing going home all on his own and possibly making this blindness permanent when there could be something that can be done to help him. Nightwing is a competent, talented young man, which is why he’s so intriguing to Slade—and while he has all the faith that Nightwing will find a way to fight even if his sight is forever gone, Slade also knows the loss of sense will be a major blow to the kid’s moral for months to come. He’s seen how far Nightwing can fall with helplessness and depression plaguing him, and honestly the thrill of fighting him leaves when his fire is replaced with a desperateness to prove to himself that he’s still worth something. He needs Nightwing to have a steady support system, and help for this injury.

Nightwing is going to hate him for a while after this, but Slade has no choice. He doesn’t fight against Nightwing to kill him, but because those fights are the only thing that brings a fun challenge. For how human Nightwing is, he fights like a beast, and Slade can’t lose that.

“Up,” he says while returning the kid’s mask; he grabs Nightwing by the arm and lifts him to his feet. Nightwing groans, but doesn’t fight too badly as Slade firmly wraps his arm around Slade’s shoulders. “Where is the best place to exit this place without being spotted?”

Nightwing, with the complexion of the inside of an avocado, talks him through on where to go. He looks one small fit of nausea away from throwing up all over Slade’s armor.

Luckily, he keeps it in his stomach—perhaps the discomfort in his body being something more desirable to deal with than a vomit covered Slade—and by the time they make it out of a small, boarded up and abandoned, exit to the subway line, Slade lets the kid take a break by the nearest dumpster. Nightwing, the poor thing, must have lost everything he’s eaten today in those fifteen minutes.

Now that he’s out below Blüdhaven’s night sky, he’s now the one in charge of leading the way. Nightwing stumbles along blindly—hah—never letting go of his weak grasp around Slade’s neck and shoulders.

Finally, they make it to where Slade has parked the car he had taken into the city. The windows are all tinted to near-illegal levels, but Slade still stuffs Nighting in the back-seats and hands him a bucket he had in the trunk that previously held a few hundred bullets from when he bought them in bulk.

“Throw up on the seats and I’m making you buy me a new car.”

“Bet this one was stolen anyway,” Nightwing mumbles, curled up in the backseats with the bucket touching his stomach like a flu-ridden child.

Slade scoffs and closes the door after reminding him to keep his head down but to stay awake. He takes off his Deathstroke mask, then the top bits of his armor, and shoves them in the truck. Then, after he gets in the driver's seat, they’re off.

Getting out of downtown Blüdhaven should be the hardest part of all of this; both for Slade’s navigation skills and for Nightwing’s gag-reflex. Eventually, however, they make it out of the twists and turns of downtown and eventually make it onto the main roads of the city—still crowded with cars coming too and from various ass-awful shifts of work. Nightwing remains quite agreeable in the backseats, responding that he’s awake every time Slade calls for a status report (about every five-ten minutes), and groaning at every turn no matter how slow Slade takes them.

However, that agreeableness quickly leaves the boy when Slade enters the on-ramp connecting to the north-south interstate.

Kid almost makes himself throw up by how quickly he scrambles to a sitting position; ignoring Slade's commands to lay back down.

“Turn around,” Nightwing growls. And it’s a strong growl too, reminds Slade of a chihuahua. Shaking and all.

“You’re currently blind, you have no idea where-”

“I know the roads of my city, Slade. And you’re leaving it.”

Slade sighs and merges into traffic, then uses one hand to shove Nightwing back town onto the seats. “Keep down, a cop will see you.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Slade remains silent.

“Tell me it’s a secret mansion somewhere and you have your own personal doctor that can help. Or you know a guy that happens to be down south. Or-”

“I’m taking you to Gotham,” Slade says, ripping off the band-aid.

Nightwing looks all sorts of emotions in the span of a few seconds. The one he settles on, however, is anger.

“No.”

“Batman gets injured all the time,” Slade begins to explain, but Nightwing looks frantic now.

“No, don’t take me back- I’ve worked so hard to get him to see that I can do things without him- and he has a new kid now and-”

“Suck it up,” Slade growls. “Deal with it. I’m not like you, kid. I don’t know how to take care of a normal human, and I definitely don’t know anyone who can because I have no need to. What you need is a doctor that can treat you off the record, who knows about your nightlife. Batman has that, doesn’t he.”

It’s not a question, but Nightwing’s silence is still an answer.

“Whatever your old man thinks of you for coming back injured doesn’t matter in the end. Nor does the new kid. What you should worry more about is what I think of you after this. You’re not fighting Batman, you’re fighting me.”

“What if he doesn’t let me fight after this?” Nightwing… Dick whispers as he finally lays back down on the seats. He’s taken his mask off and is rubbing his eyes, perhaps quelling tears or a headache. Perhaps both. “What if my sight doesn’t come back? What if he retires me?”

Slade remains silent for a second, then answers as firmly as he can. “I’ve known plenty of formidable enemies who are missing a sense. You’ll find a way to get back up, and if he doesn’t let you then I’ll just have to break in, kidnap you, and train you myself.”

That startles a laugh out of Dick. “I thought you were no longer trying to get me to be your apprentice.”

Slade shrugs, allowing a smile on his lips, selfishly comforted that Dick couldn’t see it. “You have a lot of potential, kid, I’d rather you use it against me than not at all. I’ll train you and release you like the bird you are, and we can get back to the same ol’ dance we have.”

Dick takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah… okay. I’ll hold you to that.”

-o-o-o-o-

Slade parks the car in an old neighborhood in Gotham that has a considerable drop in crime compared to the rest of the city. All things considered. Though, the sun is beginning to rise and Slade’s positive the Bat knew he was in his city the second he drove into it. Dick knows this too, as he’s telling Slade to hurry up and get out of here despite the boy still looking green around the gills. Slade grabs his mask and armor, then turns to the stolen car he’s about to abandon and opens the back door near Dick’s face.

Suddenly, and rather embarrassingly, he doesn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Dick is a freaky empath sometimes and gives an exhausted smile.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll get through this.”

“Good,” Slade replies. “I won't let you quit.”

His grin widens. “Never.”

Then Slade closes the door and takes off quickly, only pausing on a distant roof to watch a large black figure and a smaller red-and-yellow clad child approach the car and catch sight of the injured bird inside.

From there, Slade turns and leaves, not looking back.

He’ll see Nightwing on the battlefield again. No matter what, Slade will make sure of it.

#dick grayson #nightwing #slade wilson #deathstroke #batman #whumptober2021 #no.6 #blindness #fanfiction #jin writes

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cocobittiebites · 3 years

Note

Hello!! This is my 2nd ask.. I just wanted a Scenario when Hisoka is being Saved by a extremely Powerful Woman who has a very cold Appearance... This Woman saved him during the fight of Chrollo.. Sorry for my Second Ask.. I'm just really loved him.. By the way I'm very satisfied on your blogs😊😊😊😊😘😘😘😘❤️❤️❤️❤️

TELL ME WHY I FORGOT I WROTE THIS A COUPLE DAYS AGO???? LIKE FR THIS WAS DONE ON THURSDAY- talk about forgetfulness 🧍🏻‍♀️

Some things that I added cuz creative liberty and all that jazz: y/n is apart of the main four (well it’s five now on my blog ig), I just love found family ok. Also it gives her depth and a decent reason how she knows Hisoka. Her nen ability was based off of my favorite six of crows character, Nina Zenik (who i also probably based her personality off of)

Also fair warning I can barley understand Nen and how is works whenever it’s explained so yeah here is me bullsh*ting it 🧍🏻‍♀️ I tried for y’all though...

Hisoka x fem!reader

TW: Hisoka being Hisoka, mentions of blood and gore (not that much but still), really this is pretty tame compaired to a lot of things on this app, y/n has strong opinions

Why did she have to get tangled up with this clown yet again? No amount of money is worth dealing with this.

At least she had the intuition to view the fight from her room at Heaven’s arena. From the looks of this the two fighters completely disregarded the sanctity of common courtesy as they brought the audience in their petty quarrel.

Men and their egos.

The hypocrisy of the situation never ceased to amaze her.

He’s mad that Hisoka sold out the troupe and had a hand in the death of their members? Really? After they probably done far worse?

She watched up on the screen as the audience members began flying towards the aforementioned clown, internally jerking back as Hisoka’s arm was completely severed.

Just like his fight with Kastro.

But it wasn’t like his fight against Kastro. This was a fight against the leader of the Phantom Troupe and this Chrollo guy….he was no joke. At least in his fight against Kastro it was like a game in his favor. Here though, he was the prey and this Chrollo guy seems vengeful.

As she focuses on the magician, the situation seemed to hit Hisoka.

It was all incredibly dramatic.

And incredibly stupid.

A huge explosion erupted. Bodies piled up. Chrollo’s the last man standing.

Hisoka is dead.

The words chant in her head like a sour requiem. A feeling of dread washes over her psyche. A wave, a panic arises. Her body moves involuntarily and she runs out the door towards the arena. Once she’s there she stills and takes a breath.

Stop being dramatic….This situation is exactly why he asked you to be here.

As a manipulator she could control a person’s hearts. If she was ever caught in a fight she could practically stop an opponent and give them an artificial cardiac arrest, not that she couldn’t fight her way out without her ability. With this ability she was also able to slow someone's heart rate, either calming them or putting them to sleep. The downside of it was that she had to be within a fifteen foot radius of whoever she’s using it on and there needs to have been a point of contact with the other person within an hour's time frame.

Aura is all around the body you see, and the core of it is the heart. If it was any other organ, like the brain for example, without a modifier like needles, her nen ability would not be possible. Call it her individuality complex, but something about modifiers made her equate it to people like Illumi Zoldyck. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

There also was a chance that if she overexerted herself, say stopping more than 3 peoples hearts at a time, she could overwork her heart rate and die. Then again, there are downsides to everything.

Really it was an ability she was particularly proud of. Well she did develop her nen faster than the others. When she showed Gon and Killua her ability they started bombarding her with endless questions. Though there wasn’t a name for it yet. Leorio and his ever present doctor knowledge just kept spewing out heart-related medical terms.

Cardiac is a good name though.

God. She really missed her friends.

At least you get to see Kurapika when this is all over.

Back to the matter at hand. Hisoka is dead and before he died he asked her to restart his heart to bring him back to life. After much harassment from him against her and her friends, she was bound to say no, however fifty-million jenny is fifty million jenny. A bag is a bag, could you blame her?

Schooling her face she enters the ‘arena’, if you could call it that. The place was completely decimated. The ceiling was ready to crumble completely. Dead bodies littered the entire room. The iron smell of blood wafed up her nose, cringing internally. In the middle lies Hisoka, face mauled, a missing nose, and several severed limbs.

Geez, it's like he wants to make her job difficult.

Peering over to the entrance on the other side she spots a certain pink-haired spider. Machi stands above Hisoka as she uses her nen stitches to put his limbs back together.

Oh so this is his plan.

She takes no precaution in disguising herself through Zetsu, as she pulls her face into a stony exterior. It works as the pink-haired woman senses her presence and turns up in arms towards her.

“You” Machi spits out.

“Me” she says mockingly.

“What are you doing here.”

Pointing to the man himself, “The clown wanted me to restart his heart,” sauntering over to where Hisoka’s body laid there, “a fail-safe, if you will.”

Machi rolls her eyes, “I thought a goodie-goodie like you wouldn’t help a guy like him?”

Shrugging her shoulders she walks up to the spider and brushes Machi’s hair behind her ears, “Fifty-million jenny is fifty million jenny.”

Machi doesn’t say anything. Paying no mind the girl kneels down to the magenta magician. His face, once handsome, now bashed and torn up. She wouldn’t admit it to him but she felt a small pang in her heart at the sight of him.

You shouldn’t feel bad. He’s the cause of his own ruination.

Placing both hands on his chest she feels for signs of where his heart is. Once finding it she focuses her aura into her hands and into his heart. Raising her connected hands once she pushes down roughly, in turn restarting his heart. Hopefully he still had some blood flow still lingering in the brain.

It took a minute but after a while of pumping his heart herself she felt his breath even, indicating that he would be fine on his own for now. In a moment of relief she watched his eyes flutter open.

His eyes focused, slightly dazed and disoriented, but surprised that he is seeing at all. Still he sees her towering over him, as icy as fresh fallen snow. Her expression is blank, devoid of any hatred or fondness. Still she’s ethereal like this. Light shrouded her like a halo, as if she was an angel of death. For a moment he thought he had died and entered a Heaven he did not deserve.

What a welcome sight <3, he thought.

Machi looked at the pair stunned. So that’s what her nen ability is. Chrollo isn’t going to be happy about this. Slipping past the pair, she left the room to tell her boss about this new development.

“What a coincidence Y/N, I didn’t know you cared about me this much,” his signature smirk marring his face. She watches as he fills his gapping nose with bungee gum and covers it with his texture surprise.

Vain as usual.

She scowls at him, “I care about your wallet,” saying it as coldly as possible.

“Ouch that hurts~”

“You literally just died.”

“So now your concerned, hmm~”

Rolling her eyes she asked, “Well, I hope you learned something from this experience.” Raising her hand she checks his pulse, “What are you going to do about Chrollo and his gaggle of arachne?”

“This was a sort of wake up call so to say~,” he sits up moving closer to her face, eyes darting towards her petaled lips. He reaches over to caress her face, but she swats his hand and glares, “From now on I won’t give my opponents a choice when and where we fight, it makes things more...interesting.” The magician reveals at the thought.

Oh how magnificent our fight will be, Y/N

“As for the troupe, I plan on hunting them down,” he moves closer to her ear and then whispers, like a promise between two lovers, “one. by. one.”

Leaning back to see her cold exterior crumble was a sight to see. Her eyes, wide and shocked, looked like a doe in headlights. Her mouth, deliciously agape, felt tempting to touch. There he was, powerful and sadistic Hisoka, toying with whether he should worship the woman in front of him or break her.

Decision, decisions.

“Either way I’m going to need someone to rip their hearts out with.”

Oh~, this is where the fun begins <3

#hisoka #hisoka morrow #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #machi komacine #phantom troupe #chrollo vs hisoka #main four #hxh #hunter x hunter #as always in my writing y/n is a baddie #stan a queen who is in her bag 🙄🤌🏼#felt real creative when i came up with that nen ability #y/n with a personality gives me life #slight phantom troupe slander

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scarletwidowaf · 3 years

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Ghost Of You - chapter 3

A/N: i think that at this point, me being to lazy and tired to fix grammer and mistakes became a part of the story. Also im very sorry for the angst, im kinda winging it but hopefully stuff will be less painful soon 😅

The beautiful art is by the incredible @chloroformcandles ! Go check her works! Im honestly obsessed and even used her art as icons on both of my scarletwidow blogs.

Warnings: angst of course, mention of death (obviously)

Words count: 1391

ao3 * wattpad * Tumblr story index

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Ever since wanda joined the avengers she was trained in hand to hand combat.

Its not like she actually needed it, she always thought to herself and said it multiple times to the other female avenger and trainer, but Natasha always raised her eyebrow at her and smiled cockily at her in return.

One of wanda's favorite training sessions with natasha was when they were on the run. Steve Insisted they'll keep training as much as they can, even more than they used to as avengers. Natasha agreed, wanda did too but it didn't stop her from complaining every morning when the two women were already panting before the crack of down.

"You're too slow"

Natasha said, her hands holding the younger girl down on training mat.

Wanda tried to push the shorter woman down but with no use, natasha was small yet her grip was strong and her steady firm.

It was amazing that even when they were training and sweaty natasha still managed to look painfully hot. The older women smelled like vanilla and sweat and wanda had to admit that it wasn't a bad combination.

"Well its 5 am natasha, I'm barley even awake" she joked,.

wanda could see natasha holding back her smile. It was funny, really, that Natasha could hold the best poker face and go undercover without a hiss and without ever getting caught, but couldn't contain her smile when it comes to the younger woman.

"So lets make a deal, maximoff. If you can pin me down to the mat i will get you the coffee you like from the coffee down the street"

Wanda smiled.

"They do have a great coffee.. " she said. Natasha agreed, she liked their coffee and she liked the satisfied smile on wanda's face after she takes the first sip.

"I still don't see a reason for us to train combat" wanda grumble out. Natasha smiled at her and wanda's heart skipped a bit.

The younger woman knew she was getting into a dangerous zone with Natasha, but she couldn't help herself.

"I just gave you a reason maximoff. Im 5'3. If you cant take me down what would you do with stronger, bigger, rougher opponent?"

Natasha raised her eyebrow and moved to get up.

Natasha stood and held her hand out to the younger woman.

"You say that wasn't rough, romanoff?" Wanda asked faking annoyance.

"Barely" natasha smirked.

Wanda took the older girl's hand and got up as well.

"I will get that coffee" wanda said.

"Bring it on"

Natasha's smile was dangerously hot.

That was the problem about Natasha Romanoff, wanda knew that no mattar when, or at what situation, the older woman's smile will have a power over her, just like Natasha had.

And that was the only thought that crossed in wanda's mind when the two sat on wanda's bed in her crappy London apartment.

Its been a week since natasha came back and the two did their best to try and understand the circumstances they were in.

The good news were, that Natasha could come and go as she pleases.

wanda didn't knew where she was going when she left and natasha didn't say.

It could be counted as bad news as well.

At the few times when the two womem got frustrated, natasha would've leave, wanda would've cry and then natasha would come back and sit next to her, as close as she can.

The truth was that wanda missed being close to natasha, she was happy to have her around, to talk to her and hear her voice, but she missed her touch and her smell and having her around was getting painful.

Sometimes Wanda wanted to hug her and sob about everything.

And natasha wanted to be able to hold her, and hold her hand.

They missed each other, and sometimes it was too hard for them to be so close to each other without being able to touch.

"I went trough Agetha's book again" wanda finally said. Natasha put down the book she was reading, another novel wanda never heard of.

Wanda couldn't help her envy, because the book was something natasha could touch and hold and wanda wasn't.

"And?" Natasha said.

"I found something but i dont know how to perform it."

She confessed.

"Maybe we can go to someone who might know. Strange maybe?" Natasha said

"I dont think thats a good idea.. Ive been avoiding the other avengers ever since westview" she admitted

"Was it that bad?"

"Its just complicated. I brought vision back for awhile, well, kind of"

Natasha looked at her quietly encouraging her to continue

"I could bring him back but only there, i build these perfect life in there, nat, i had a family and a house and everything was so normal even when it wasn't"

"Why wasn't it perfect?"

"Because as real as it felt it was all a big lie. An illusion"

"Were you happy?"

Natasha asked.

"Yes" wanda admitted. Natasha smiled sadly.

"Then in was worth it, in a way" the older girl said.

"You weren't there" wanda said after a few moments.

The younger woman got up from bed. She wasn't able to sit still or look into the other woman eyes.

"I guess a part of your consensus knew that if I would've been there it wouldn't be perfect" natasha said sadly and got up as well.

"I doubt that there's any reality, fake or real one, that I wouldn't have been in love with you" natasha continued and wanda felt wetness on her cheeks. She was crying.

Natasha stood a few steps away from wanda, she didn't want to get too close and overwhelm the crying girl, but she couldn't stay away neither.

"I'm sorry nat"

"For what?" Natasha asked confused.

"For bringing you back. I just missed you so much and i was selfish.

I guess you were wrong natasha, I'm not a good person"

"I missed you too, every single day in the last 5 years."

Wanda looked up. Her eyes catching natasha's red ones.

Both women were crying. Natasha's cheeks were stained and her eyes were red, yet she was holding herself together pretty well. Probably as as a result of years of holding things inside and making her feelings.

"I blamed clint, you know?" Wanda confessed.

"We had a fight after i found out you were dead. I blamed him for not keeping you safe, and then left. I didn't spoke to him since then"

Wanda catch a glimpse of Natasha's book on the bed and wondered if the lead characters got their happy ending.

Natasha sigh, her hands massaging her temple.

"I dont know what they told you wanda. But i chose to jump. I could've let clint jump"

"You're lying, clint said-"

"That i had no other choice? Knowing him figured its better you wont know that, so you wouldn't be mad at me for doing that."

the two women were so close to each other that wanda could imagine natasha's hot breath and vanilla scent.

Natasha could see the small freckles on the younger girl's nose.

"You want to know why I don't deserve to go to heaven? Wanda" Natasha asked.

Wanda wiped her own tears.

"Why?"

"I'm selfish.

I could've let clint jump but i knew that I couldn't live with the burden and the pain so i left him to live with it instead.

I could let the world stay how it was after the snap, but I didn't. Not because I'm the honorable person you think i am, but because of you. I wanted you to get the life that you deserve."

Natasha smiled bitterly and gestured with her hands to the room they were in.

Wanda wanted to respond but couldn't. Her throat was dry and her head was aching.

"I should go" natasha said and before wanda could protest the older woman was gone and she was alone again.

After a few minutes of crying the witch took a few breath to calm herself down, before she went to her nightstand and took out a disposable cell phone.

"You're not selfish natasha, i am." She whispered.

The young witch typed a few digits and held the phone to her ear.

After a few rings she heard a familiar voice.

"Hey agnes, i need your help"

#natasha romanoff #black widow #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #scarlet widow #wandanat #wanda x nat #wanda x natasha #natasha x wanda

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gear-project · 3 years

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One Character versus THE ROSTER

This issue has been on my mind of late: the idea that people are so focused on one singular character in fighting games that that single character is what defines whether or not they like the game or not.

I hate to break it to most of you newcomers to fighting games, but... Ryu isn't the only character in Street Fighter.

Just like Sol Badguy isn't the only Guilty Gear character, or Baiken, or Chipp, or Jack-O', or even Elphelt.

I want you to understand something: hating on characters is just as bad as focusing on ONE singular character.

Now I get it, as fans we sometimes obsess over one particular character we relate to... I know there's plenty of people like that, I was like that once too when I was younger. I matured and grew out of it, though.

But nowadays everyone's so quick to be opinionated: I hate this character, that character sucks, this character's broken, I can't fight against this character, etc etc, whining endlessly.

I had an argument recently with someone about why they hated Xrd, and they always go on and on endlessly about why they hated Leo Whitefang as a character.

Let me ask you a VERY IMPORTANT question: unless said character is pure Paywall "Expensive" DLC... is the game preventing you from playing as that character? For any reason?

Even if you don't own the character, that's not necessarily a guarantee that someone might one day gift you some DLC for your Birthday/Christmas, whatever... right?

What's the difference between playing AS a character versus fighting AGAINST that character?

Have you ever really pondered that question?

Even in a mirror match, no two Leo Whitefangs are the same. Unless you're complaining about what color they picked, which is purely for aesthetics (and laughing, apparently).

But, even then, the playing field is more level than it will ever be in other situations.

Even if you have a hard time fighting against someone like Leo... playing AS Leo means you have the same advantages (and disadvantages) THAT HE DOES!

Brilliant!

But hey, I'm not saying it's a braindead counter-pick... you still have to learn how to use him just like any OTHER CHARACTER IN THE ROSTER... YOU STILL HAVE TO TAKE THE TIME TO LEARN THEM.

Even Sol Badguy, for as much time as people spend hating on him... Sol has been hated since the very first Guilty Gear... no one could beat him in Arcade Mode even... I mean c'mon, you guys need to seriously learn the game if you want to win.

But that's just it.

You need to learn the game. To STUDY the ROSTER.

Instead of bellyaching about what a character can do AGAINST you... learn what they can't do. Learn what weaknesses they DO HAVE.

"Why can't I win?" Simple: You don't know how to win. Learn HOW to win.

"Why can't I play the way I want to?" For as much freedom as Guilty Gear has afforded us over the years, Roman Cancels, Dead Angles, Charge Cancels, Instant Kills, Burst Overdrives, Forcebreak Abuse, even something as simple as jump cancels or Instant Airdash in someone's face... it takes a bit of creativity on your part to come up with something substantial.

But, it's your own fault if your Opponent can see right through it. Don't make it too obvious. Keep your Aces close to the chest, put on that Poker face.

If you're fighting someone who is more skilled than you, OF COURSE you're gonna have a hard time.

But that's the best time to ask questions: what CAN you do? What CAN'T you do? What SHOULD you do? How can you get sneaky?

"Why can't I have fun?" That BEGS the QUESTION: what is your definition of fun?

This all boils back in to my main topic: ENJOYING THE ROSTER AS A WHOLE.

Yeah sure, that one character is super strong, or that other character is annoying to deal with...

But they aren't the only characters worth spending your emotions and time on, are they?

How many characters can you say you've put in your pocket and studied? How many characters have you even TRIED?

Mmm, okay, yeah, some are difficult to learn at first... but I'd wager that once you pick up a key nuance of a particular character, all the pieces of how they play will fall in to place.

There is NO CHARACTER that is absolutely IMPOSSIBLE TO LEARN.

I'd actually state, that with GGStrive, most characters are boiled down to their most BASIC OF BASIC ELEMENTS. Some might argue they are TOO BASIC.

But learning the basics is always important. That's why they're called "Fundamentals".

Picking up a random character, pushing buttons, and exploring what they can do isn't hard at all.

The next question you need to ask is... how far do you want to go with this character?

Every character I've fought with always has a tough matchup or two... that goes for ANY character, and even the strongest characters (like Justice, or heck, Leopaldon), have situations they cannot handle.

But rather than dwell on the things they can't do... looking at everything they CAN do and handling the situation when its in your favor to WIN... is the most ideal outcome.

So why focus on the ROSTER instead of ONE CHARACTER?

In my case, I don't dwell on specific situations because that only happens with one or two events/situations. I like to look at the OVERALL SMELL OF THE GAME.

Yes, of course characters have a hard time in some situations... but it's when they SHINE in OTHER situations... situations that you've practiced for, situations you've studied... even situations you found were interesting. Studying the MATCHUP in other words: is where things become less "effort" and more "fun".

How many times have you abused a character who had a hard time against the character you picked? I'm sure it's a guilty pleasure to a lot of people. We can be just as brutal to people on the dishing end as we often complain about being on the receiving end.

But even THAT is a learning process, it's a learning experience for both the abusee, and the abuser.

Even if it looks like I'm "bored" kicking the bejeezus out of some poor loser who can't fight back... that's only what it looks like on the outside:

On the INSIDE, I'm expecting them to find a way to fight back. To turn the tables on my methods. To flip my strategies on their ear. To make my attempts at fighting look like I pushed the wrong button.

That's what META is... looking at the same situations over and over and seeing what different THINGS you can DO in those situations. How will you respond if you somehow manage to block Volcanic Viper? How will you respond if I were to wiff this attack?

But, again, THIS IS WHY THE ROSTER AS A WHOLE IS SO INTERESTING!

Why can't people SEE this????

Each character has their own responses to unique situations... and they can, in turn, create their own unique situations.

But you have to know how to handle those situations if you want to win.

The only other excuse you'd have for hating a character is if you hated their wardrobe and color choices... that's just a fashion opinion at the end of the day.

But, to me... it's not about winning... it's about enjoying each and every situation.

To enjoy the "world" of Guilty Gear, not just one person in it.

#My Motivational Speech of the Month!#GG Roster

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bybibucky · 3 years

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Honey, Just Tell Him

Bucky Barnes x reader One Shot

You’re much less quiet about your obsession with the idea of being fucked by Bucky Barnes than you should be. What if, one day, he catches on?

word count: 5.4k

warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), a smidge dubcon, oral (f receiving), choking, gagging, exhibitionism, bit of bondage, spanking, face slapping, degradation

note: idk what exactly happened here but this is my filthiest one yet. the working title was BUCKY VIOLENT SMUT so do with that what you will. feel free to yell at me in the comments

Bucky Barnes was strong. Everybody knew this, everybody was intimidated. He was a bit of a violent guy – came with the territory – and everybody flinched whenever he rose his voice. Granted, that wasn’t often, but recruits knew not to approach him unprompted. He wouldn’t actually hurt them, especially not the new ones, but he had a century worth of deadly reflexes on his side, and anyone would be clever not to tempt him into letting his inhibitions go.

But you, you wanted those inhibitions gone. Practically every mission you were on with him, whenever you watched him squeeze the life out of various villains with that fucking metal arm, whenever you marveled at his insane precision every time he pulled the trigger on one of his guns, whenever he threw his favorite knife, you were as wet between your legs as the blood seeping from Bucky’s victims.

It was hot beyond relief and such a contrast to his sweetheart-self at home. Not that he wasn’t sexy every minute of every day, but this danger that oozed off of him whenever he needed to be a weapon was difficult for you not to find attractive.

“You have to stop staring at him.” Natasha came up right next to you, and you almost jumped out of your skin. That pathetic hiding spot behind one of the punching bags that hung from the ceiling apparently wasn’t all that secretive. “He’ll notice it one day. If he hasn’t already.” The sound of her voice traveled from one of your ears to the other as she walked to stand behind you so you wouldn’t be seen by Bucky. To your luck, he was preoccupied with his own punching bag.

“I can’t,” you whispered, “and you know it.” Your obsession had become prominent enough for it to be your main topic on girls’ nights.

“Honey, just tell him.” There was a comforting hand on your shoulder, but her tone was traced with annoyance.

“Tell him?” you screeched, though still barely above a whisper, “tell him what exactly? Fuck me senseless, Bucky Barnes? Step on my throat until I lose consciousness?”

Natasha couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Maybe not in those exact words. But I’m willing to bet he’d fuck you sideways till Sunday or whatever you want to call it if you just asked. He’s not shy about it.”

You groaned. You were painfully aware of how not-shy he was about his sex life. There barely passed a night in which you didn’t have to listen to Bucky going to town with a random girl he had brought home. His room was next to yours, and at this point you were convinced that the universe had constructed this specifically to torture you. “Don’t remind me.”

As Bucky sent the already weak punching bag flying across the room with a hearty kick, you were ready to whimper. The image of you getting shoved against a wall in a similar fashion was instantly on your mind. Helpless, you felt jealousy grow in your chest when Bucky waved over a new recruit towards the sparring mat.

Natasha chuckled beside you, taking a deep breath to get ready to ruin your life. “Hey, Barnes!” She stepped around the punching bag, pulling you with her. “I got a better opponent for you!”

A minute later, you were stood at the opposite side of the mat, facing Bucky. You weren’t enhanced yourself, much like Nat wasn’t, but you had taken him down before. Although, you weren’t sure you would again, not if he looked like that. The shirt was rudely tight and even the obvious sweat stains didn’t repulse you, rather on the contrary. He was panting, that signature smirk on his lips taunting you.

“Anything off limits?” he asked and you already felt your stance weaken.

You shook your head. “You know the drill, Barnes.”

“Then c’mon, doll,” he said lowly, “give me everything you’ve got.”

Naturally, you pounced. His hands met you half way, firm around your waist to throw you over his shoulder a second later, but yours were still free to punch him straight in the jaw. He didn’t take the time to wipe at the corner of his mouth were a bead of blood was gathering, of course he didn’t, and instead spun you around, one arm switching to wrap around your throat. It wasn’t enough to cut off your airway and you appreciated that. It gave you the opportunity to drop your weight in his hands. He’d let go, you knew it, so he wouldn’t actually choke you, and you would use that as leverage to hook a leg around one of his to make him falter.

Bucky fell, rolling over in an attempt not to crush you, and you sighed when he gave you enough time to get back on your feet.

“You’re holding back,” you said, complaining. This wasn’t how training was supposed to go.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” His stance called for a time out, and you relaxed as well.

“Yeah,” you said, “you’re coddling me and you’re giving me all those opportunities to take advantage of you.”

Bucky laughed, whole-heartedly. “You’re taking advantage of me?”

Your lips pulled together in a pout. “Haven’t you noticed? You’re open everywhere. It’s no fun if you let me win.”

His smile darkened. “So you’re telling me to go all in? No mercy whatsoever?”

“Yes, obviously!” You bounced on the balls of your feet, excited now. You’d been craving a real challenge. Okay, more like craving something vastly different from Bucky, but this was the next best thing.

A second later, your back smacked against the mat, wind knocked from your lungs. You hadn’t even seen it coming. “What the fuck,” you coughed, Bucky’s face appeared above you. “I wasn’t ready.”

He cocked his head. “You said no mercy. Nobody would wait for you in a real fight.”

“This is a real fight.” Your lungs were still not fully filling up and you knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

Bucky laughed again. “Not a fair one, doll. You’d never win against me.”

Like hell you wouldn’t. Once you had regathered your strength and will to fight, your hands flew up, trying to push him off, but he was quicker. In one swift move, he trapped your wrists above your head. No matter how much you struggled, they wouldn’t budge.

“Face it, doll.” God, when had his mouth become so close? “You’re a weak little thing. Nothing against my power. I could do anything I want to you like this and you’d just have to endure it. Only begging can help you now.”

A whimper caught in your throat and you swallowed it down. He couldn’t know.

But his hearing was enhanced. “What was that, princess? Am I hurting you?”

He was but you couldn’t let it show. You shook your head. Any second the two of you stayed in this position was too amazing to pass up on. Princess?

Bucky leant down to whisper. “Don’t lie to me.” His hot breath fanned across your neck, forcing out goosebumps in their wake. “It won’t do you any good.”

You were at a loss for words. What had gotten into him? Part of you was suddenly convinced you had hit your head too hard against the mat and where now unconscious and dreaming. But when he scraped his teeth along your jaw line, practically biting down, you knew. No dream felt like this. You felt your nipples as taut pebbles against your sports bra, your core practically aching already.

“You’re wet, aren’t you, doll?” he asked, and you shook your head vehemently. But Bucky scoffed, “bad girl. Still lying even when I told you not to.” He wouldn’t let up, instead spoke again, and you pressed your thighs together at his words. “I can smell it on you.”

Now you couldn’t hold back the whimper. It forced itself out of your throat in a mix of arousal and embarrassment.

Bucky chuckled. “There we go,” he said, still so fucking close to your ear. “I told you you’d lose against me.”

You shook your head, entire body thrashing with it. The attempt wasn’t to get him off you, but rather because you couldn’t contain your energy. His words were doing unspeakable things to you.

“No?” The mocking tone hadn’t left his voice. “Go on, then. Try to escape.” But your hands were glued to the mat, he didn’t even try to spare you some of his colossal weight that pressed against your body. That and the sheer weight of his words kept you immobilized entirely. “Thought so.”

You puffed out a breath in annoyance. This wasn’t fair at the slightest. He was being mean for no damn reason. But you couldn’t deny the way it was making you feel. Being at his mercy like this was exhilarating.

His free hand firmly grasped your jaw. “I don’t like that little attitude on you,” he said and with the way he was holding you, it was impossible for you to respond. “You think you can just lie here, pretending you’re not fucking turned on, when we both know that you’re parading your filthy state of mind all day every day?”

Oh God, did he somehow know about your pathetic crush on him? Was this punishment for letting it consume you?

“Don’t look at me like that,” he continued, “you’re not the innocent victim in this. You’ve been telling everyone in detail how you want me to rail you. ‘Fuck me senseless, Bucky Barnes? Step on my throat until I lose consciousness?’ That can be arranged, doll. You could have just asked.”

Was he actually serious? This had to be some cruel joke. “Did Nat tell you?” Suddenly, there was deep pit in your stomach. But Bucky wouldn’t have any of it.

“She didn’t have to,” he said, “not only can I smell your arousal – by the way, it’s so prominent right now that I can almost taste it – but you can’t really hide from my enhanced hearing. Especially when we’re in the same room and you’re literally begging to be fucked.” The hand on your jaw finally released you, only to run down the hollow of your throat until it found the hemline of your sports bra. Inches away from your breasts, you arched your back, trying to push them into his grip.

“Oh, you really are a little slut,” Bucky murmured, “aren’t you, princess?”

It didn’t feel like a question, so you didn’t reply. But the need to shake your head in a pathetic attempt to maintain your propriety remained.

“No?” He almost laughed, and you felt the offending puff of air against your neck. “So you don’t touch yourself and moan my name? You’ve never told any of your friends how you want me to fuck you hard enough to leave bruises? Because I’m pretty sure I heard you. Are you telling me I imagined all of that?”

You wished you could tell him that he was imagining it, that there wasn’t an undeniable pool of your arousal seeping through your yoga pants – which he could apparently smell – and that you weren’t hungry for him like you like you hadn’t eaten in months. But he had told you not to lie. You shook your head once more.

Bucky smiled against your skin. “Then tell me, princess, are you a little whore?” He finally brushed his fingers against your nipple and that alone compelled you to say, “yes!”

“There we go,” he hummed, “you can’t hide from me.” Briefly, he pushed your wrists into the mat, signaling for you to keep them there. At this point, you had almost forgotten they were there at all, so at ease with being unable to move.

Then, less asking for permission – because he knew he had it – and more finally taking what he wanted, he wrenched open your legs, calloused hands firmly on your knees. They slid up, up towards your center, but ignored it completely, and you were ready to cry when they settled on your stomach instead.

You whined high in your throat, and Bucky full-on laughed at you. “You want me to touch your cunt, is that it?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question, “poor thing. You’ve been bad, princess.”

Princess. There it was again. Where was that coming from? Before today, he had never used that word, much less in this context, but you didn’t get the opportunity to think about it further, because Bucky tore at the fabric of your sports bra and pushed it up, finally freeing your tits. Instantly, he attached his mouth to one of your nipples – all teeth, sucking harshly.

“God, fuck!”

Bucky came up for air, regarding you for a half-second. “Shut up,” he said, an unimpressed growl in his voice, “you want the whole compound to hear us?”

You hadn’t thought of that. Right now, you had your tits out in the middle of the gym. There were floor-to-ceiling windows practically everywhere. Anyone could see. But you didn’t care. All you wanted was more of Bucky, whatever he would give you.

Before you could give him an answer, he brought your scrunched-up bra higher up until it was level with your mouth, and without waiting for you to react, he shoved the fabric between your teeth. You were trapped, arms pressed against your head as the tight garment held them in place, silencing you.

He went on, bringing all his attention to your other nipple while the first one lie completely forgotten, soaked skin tortured by the air conditioning. You wanted to touch it yourself, twist and pull to imitate his teeth but you weren’t allowed.

“More,” you moaned instead, voice muffled by your sports bra. You could feel him smile against your bud, the tender skin slick with his spit there as well.

“You need to learn to behave, little girl,” Bucky said matter-of-factly, his face back in front of yours, “you’ve wanted me for so long and now that you finally have me you can’t wait five minutes?” He scoffed. “I thought you were better than that.”

Shaking your head, you opened your mouth to beg. “Please, Bucky, please.” Speaking now – as coherently as you could – you didn’t recognize your own voice. The desperation was heavy and a borderline moan traced every syllable, even through your makeshift gag.

Bucky took pity on you. Partly, at least. He leaned back to unceremoniously pull at your yoga pants as well as you underwear until you were completely bare from the head down. There was a significant rise in his power like this, him above you fully clothed while he had you writhe and moan naked beneath him. You loved every second.

Fully bypassing your clit where he knew for a fact was the place you ached for him the most, Bucky plunged two of his fingers straight into your pussy. They were thick, thicker than your own, and longer on top of that, instantly reaching spots you could only dream of by yourself. You were ready to mewl but the possibility of him stopping at all when he had barely begun and it already felt like this was too much of a threat.

Bucky watched your nostrils flare as you tried your best not to cry out while also continuing to bring enough air into your lungs. One hand keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers fucking into your cunt, the other went to stroke your chest. “You think you can be a good girl for me and stay quiet?” he asked, and it was the gentlest he had been this whole time, “I’ll get you out of this.” His free hand found your makeshift gag, slightly pulling the fabric tighter against your lips. It was now fully lodged between your teeth. He was teasing you.

You nodded as much as you could in your restraint. Part of you wanted it gone. What if you moaned again, then? Would he punish you?

“If you say so,” he drew the words out, warning you. And he slipped the sports bra, its fabric soaked in your spit, up your arms and off. One-handed, unsurprisingly, and kept his other hand between your legs, warm flesh fingers pumping into you. His thumb joined the party, lightly flicking your clit and you would have almost lost your composure, had it not been for the raise of Bucky’s brow. You didn’t want to disappoint just seconds after being granted some mercy.

You had known he was good at this – countless nights of having to listen to him take apart is conquests were proof enough – but you hadn’t expected the feeling of drowning like this. Cotton in your ears, you noticed yourself to be almost paralyzed. Anything physical that was restraining you was gone by this point, his hands only there to pleasure you. What kept you without movement were solely his words and your desire to be good for him.

But then, his metal fingers replaced his flesh hand in your pussy, consequently hitting the most delicious spot while he kept his thumb on your clit, and you couldn’t contain the high-pitched moan that burst from your lips in surprise. It was met, even more shockingly, with Bucky’s hand slipping from you only to slap across your cheek.

Your head whipped to the side harshly, almost straining your neck. He eyed you dangerously when you looked back at him and your stomach churned.

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

The thought was there. That you should lie, deny him that power over you, but he would have seen right through it.

“Don’t play innocent. I could feel your walls clench around me, grip me so fucking tight,” he groaned, “wanna squeeze my cock like that, princess?”

The frantic nodding of your head happened on its own accord and your hips bucking only underlined it further. He laughed at you.

“Fucking hell you’re desperate,” he said, “and I’m all here for it.” The confession was accompanied by a bruising kiss. He stopped his ministrations on your pussy, but the kiss was so good that you didn’t even fully notice. It was the first of its kind, Bucky’s lips tangling with yours deliciously. Tiny, tiny whimpers slipped through and he ate them all up, quite literally.

When he pulled away, his eyes were even darker than before, they almost weren’t even blue anymore. You were certain your facial expression mirrored his, though presumably, you looked more wrecked that he ever would.

“I should keep you like this forever,” he mused, “bound and chained to any flat surface just for me to take you and take you until you’re bruised and aching, dripping with cum. You would be the pettiest sight.”

Your breath hitched. The thought of that was starting to get to you embarrassingly harshly. It sounded it amazing.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he continued, “wanna be a good little girl for me?”

“Please.”

“Think you’ve been good enough for me to taste you?” he asked and you went to respond but Bucky answered for himself, “I don’t think you have. A good girl wouldn’t have flaunted herself, worn those skimpy little outfits when outside it’s fucking snowing, told anyone who would listen how much you need to get railed. No, you’ve been bad, asking for it without actually asking for it.” Bucky slapped you square on the thigh and you jumped in surprise, whimpering.

“That’s what I want,” he said, “so sensitive that you flinch when I raise my hand, reduced to nothing but a complying, whimpering mess.”

Your eyes nearly rolled back in bliss. That simple thought went further than your own fantasies, but sounded delicious. “Your mess,” you agreed. Bucky smiled.

By now, you were dripping down to his wrist, your pussy letting out a filthy squelch every time he pushed his metal fingers in. Accidentally focusing on that, on how embarrassing it really was, you didn’t register how Bucky propped himself up on his elbows between your thighs, but the first contact of his tongue against your cunt definitely didn’t go unnoticed. You bucked against his face on accident and Bucky pulled back instantly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled, “you’ll take whatever I give you, not a fraction more.”

But you couldn’t stop. Being turned on way past the breaking point, and his mouth was too skilled for you to just lie there, unresponsive. Bucky got up a moment later, cussing you out under his breath as he walked over to the wall of weights across the room.

You thought he was leaving you altogether, that you had annoyed him one too many times, but the thoughts died right when you opened your mouth to call after him. Because Bucky returned, a barbell in hand. Eyes widening, you watched it come closer until it sat square across your abdomen. It wasn’t tight enough to make breathing more difficult, but enough to trap you against the mat. He smirked at the sight, towering above you.

“This is what happens if you don’t comply, princess,” he said darkly, “but you’ll bend against my will eventually, even if I have to force you.”

Bucky was back between your legs before you knew it, resuming his work against your pussy. He forewent your clit entirely, much to your dismay, but beneath the little contraption, you had no choice but to endure the teasing.

He looked up at you the entire time, watching your reactions closely as he ran the tip of his tongue across your lips lazily. He was waiting for you to break, prompting a punishment the closer he got to your clit. But you were stubborn, unwilling to let him win this. You would behave and stay quiet like your life depended on it.

Bucky saw that and chose to grant you some mercy and he suddenly felt the urge to witness you climax from just his tongue alone. He watched your eyes screw shut the moment he latched his lips to your clit and sucked, running his flat tongue all over it a second later. Somewhere deep down he knew she should reprimand you, tell you to keep your eyes on him and not your own fantasies, but the sight was prettier than he had imagined. You looked better than any girl before you, had a richer taste, more exhilarating smell and feel, and were altogether breathtaking. He should have done this much sooner.

But you didn’t give him more time to contemplate, as you began to involuntarily fight against your restraint, bucking your hips for more friction where you craved it the most. You were close, that much was clear, and even though he wanted to torture you some more and deny you that pleasure, if you looked this already, he needed to know what you would look like orgasming.

You held it off for as long as you could. Then, you began to beg. “Please,” you whined, not caring about the consequence, “please, Bucky, please. I need to cum. Fuck, fuck, please let me cum.”

Bucky listened to your begging for a while longer, urging you on with two fingers against your g-spot and his tongue on your clit. Once your words turned into incoherent babbling, he knew it was time. “Come on, then, princess,” he said, voice still hard, “cum for me. Right now or you won’t cum at all.”

And you did. Finally being granted permission, you allowed yourself to let go, to let all that pent-up frustration wash over you in a tidal wave that shook you to the core. A string of broken curses left your lips with a volume that went silent against your own deaf ears. In all that haze, you even lifted the bar on your chest about an inch off the ground, pushing your hips further into Bucky’s hands. His ministrations kept going, keeping you going, and pulled every fraction of your orgasm from your body until you were reduced to a whimpering heap of heavy limbs.

“Good fucking girl,” Bucky said, making his way back up your body. He ripped the weights off of you and effortlessly tossed them across the room. “Gonna fuck you now, baby.”

You whined in response, the only response you managed.

“What was that, princess?” he asked panting, right in front of your face, “think you can take me?”

When he had shoved down his pants and underwear, you had no idea, but suddenly, you felt the head of his cock against your thigh. You jumped in surprise. Bucky chuckled.

“Thought so.” But he angled himself against you anyway, before slowly pushing in. “Fuck,” he moaned instantly. Not even when you dared to thrust your hips against his did he intervene, instead he let it slide this one time. But you grew cocky, and did it again. You weren’t able to a third time, however, because Bucky wrapped the metal hand around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck into you all the way. “Feeling brave, are we?”

The growl in his voice did not fall to deaf ears. And deep down, you felt bad for not following orders but the feeling of finally getting fucked by Bucky Barnes was too great. “Please, I can’t wait anymore. Please I need it so bad.” His grip around your throat wasn’t tight enough for you to stay silent.

“I’m gonna have to teach you patience, princess,” he scoffed, “this won’t do.” But instead of making true to his word, he simply grabbed your hip harshly, angling them up towards his. The movement brought blissful friction against your g-spot, and you couldn’t contain the yelp. Bucky placed his flesh hand over you mouth, the metal one still around your neck. “Next time.”

With that, he began a brutal pace. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight, little slut.” The words were more growled that spoken, gritted teeth displaying how concentrated he was. Bucky was chasing his own pleasure above yours, partly as punishment, partly because he couldn’t help it. But you wouldn’t complain with the way his thrusts hit all the right spots anyway.

The urge to scream his name was there, but all that came out was a muffled whine. Bucky leant down, smirking. “Huh? You trying to say something? Too bad.” His hips only moved faster, harder, and you knew it wouldn’t take long for you to cum all over his cock.

He lifted you, balancing you on his thighs as he used your hips for leverage. You could feel your skin getting caught between the plates of his metal hand. Bucky watched your jaw fall slack and eyes screw shut.

“You better keep looking at me, princess,” he hissed between his gritted teeth, “and don’t you dare make a sound.”

That was easier said than done. With the way he was making you feel so fucking good, they way he spoke, you developed a kink for his voice right there and then. The whines with every breath you took were much harder to hold back. When Bucky grew tired of it, he tore off his own shirt only to shove it between your teeth. “Shut up.”

His strong scent engulfed you instantly, and you could clearly discern a mix of his deodorant and sweat from working out. It was relentlessly filthy but this close to edge, it wouldn’t matter what he forced on you, it would turn you on. Embarrassingly enough, a long moan could be heard even through the soaked fabric in your mouth when Bucky rubbed his thumb all over your clit.

“You need to cum, don’t you, princess?” he asked, also slightly breathless by now.

You nodded harshly, desperate to be good for him, to silently beg for him as much as you could. And he chose to be merciful.

The nod came before his words. “Do it.” His voice held a strained grumble. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you cum all over my cock. Cum like the good whore that you are.”

And, fuck, you did. The second orgasm was completely different from the first. That one would have pulled your legs from beneath you had you been standing, rolling over you in a blissful wave. This one tightened all your muscled simultaneously, a slow-motion tingle in every corner of your nerves. You arched your back, shuddering your hips in his hold for even more friction. The scream was only silenced by his shirt, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were grateful for it.

Bucky felt your walls clench around his girth as he continued to fuck you in deep, harsh thrusts that only spurred your orgasm on further. “Fuck,” was all he said, groaning in bliss as he watched you cum, all for him.

It didn’t take long for him to follow you down the rabbit hole. His hips faltered as he struggled to keep up the reckless rhythm. “Fuck, princess.” Bucky was close, that much was evident in his heated stare. “Look at me, slut” he said, “look at me when I cum inside you.”

You obliged, because it was all you were left to handle. Only him.

“Want me to fill you up?” he asked, voice hoarse, “mark you as mine?” Your frantic nods were all he needed. His gaze was glued to yours, and you kept your eyes unblinking, unwilling to miss even one second of his orgasm. And it was worth it. His hair matted to his forehead, a deep focused crease between his brows, his hands in an unwavering grip around your hips, he stopped just barely, and you felt him shoot his load. He began thrusting again moments after, riding out his orgasm. If he made any noise, you were unaware, you hardly heard a thing over your own ringing ears.

The mixture of his cum and yours oozed out of you the moment he pulled out, and you were ready to feel ashamed about it, but Bucky gathered your legs straight up in the air with one hand, leaning down to lick up every trace of the mess you had made. It was, while filthy beyond belief, also insanely hot.

You accidentally let out a surprised whine. Bucky responded with an almost playful slap to your thigh while keeping his mouth on your pussy. The shock and your remaining sensitivity made you jump from the impact, shutting you up in the process.

“Thought so,” Bucky mumbled against your skin. Once he was done cleaning up as much as he could, which only were a few more seconds, he gently placed your feet on the mat. Careful not to touch you, he moved to lie beside you, one arm propping up his head, the other pulling out the soaked shirt.

You felt his cool metal fingers brush away small strands of hair, and watched him curiously.

“How are you doing?” he asked, voice still slightly hoarse but having lost that mean tilt.

“Good,” you whispered, “you?”

Bucky nodded. “Same.” He paused. “Was that too much?”

You nodded instantly without really thinking it through, but when Bucky took another moment to answer, you realized it was the truth.

“I know you weren’t expecting it.”

“It’s okay,” you said, “I really liked what you did.”

At that, he offered you a toothy grin. “Yeah? Maybe we should repeat it sometime.”

Before you could move to agree, you heard Tony’s voice over the speakers. “Look, I’m glad you guys finally bumped uglies,” he said, voice obviously annoyed, “but I’d appreciate it if the entire compound wouldn’t be part of it next time, yeah? Barnes, we talked about this. The gym is a public space and not your personal fuck room.” There was a click in the speakers which told you that Tony was done, but you were too occupied with staring at Bucky in shock.

“What? I told you to keep quiet.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”

Grinning his cocky grin, Bucky rolled back on top of you. “I’ll show you–“ But he wouldn’t finish that sentence.

“Guys! Get a fucking room!”

::::::::::

‘Everything’ Tags: @alphaabucky @badassbaker @brieannakeogh @buckysmusculararm @captnbarnesrogers @courtneychicken @guccicloudz @diinofayce @hellomissmabel @hiddles-rose @iamwarrenspeace @imrisaluk @jjbarnesgirl @Julliiaaq @justanotherbuckydevotee @kimcarcrashin @letaliabane @lovely-garbage @paisl20y @palaiasaurus64 @partlybcrnes @rebelfleur22 @silverwolf7850 @sunnyandtwisty @taliarosej00 @teacher-crushed @the-red-world-of-jess-chibi @thevanishedillusion @thelostallycat @xcrawlerwood @iscasahufflepuff

‘Bucky Only’ Tags: @bandbooktvaddict @bonky-bornes @cassandras-musings @courtmr @joyofbebbanburg @ladyjthewriter @ria132love

‘Smutty’ Tags: @bandbooktvaddict @bonky-bornes @letaliabane

– you can get tagged through an ask or here

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes imagine #tony stark #Avengers #avengers fanfic #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

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misssophiachase · 3 years

Photo

For @klarolinefallbingo “Broomstick”

What a month it has been! Thank you @eliliyah for organising this (and all your stunning graphics) and all of your hard work! I don’t think I have any more left in me but thank you everyone for being so supportive and kind.

I also got 3 BINGOS (almost 4 if I do one more) which isn’t too bad I thought lol. I’ll do a master past soon : )

Thank you also to @helpfulfairy for her awesome quidditch knowledge, whatever would I do without you, luv?

Everything She Does is Magic

Witch and wizard Caroline and Klaus can’t stand each other according to school gossip. Although, news of her addition to the quidditch team is going to make things much more interesting and complicated.

Wednesday

“I think I misheard you,” he offered, a slight smile playing on his crimson lips from across the wooden, dining table. “You’re starting in this weekend’s quidditch match?”

“Did I stutter,” Caroline shot back, rolling her blue eyes in his direction.

As someone who made over-achieving an art form, Caroline was determined to master everything the school had to offer, including quidditch. She figured that all the pain and bruises from an extra circular activity would be worth it to secure good, future job prospects.

She was always thinking ahead.

Obviously, Klaus Mikaelson didn’t share her view. Not that she was surprised given he’d made it his main aim in life to terrorise her since she started attending Hogwarts School of Magic two years earlier.

Just because he came from a rich and powerful family didn’t give him the right to make her life difficult.

“I just wouldn’t want you to falter and fall off your broomstick, Forbes, that’s all,” he chuckled, a stray dimple appearing without notice.

Why did he have to look so good insulting her?

Ass.

“Funny, I thought that would be you, Mikaelson, given last week’s pathetic loss,” she muttered, trying to avoid the urge to throw a french fry in his direction. “Gryffindor is going to wipe the floor with Slytherin this weekend and clearly you’re worried.”

“Me? Worried? Highly, bloody unlikely.”

“We’ll see about that,” she argued. “I’ve got moves you haven’t seen before.”

Caroline wasn’t sure she was talking about quidditch anymore and given the way his dark, blue eyes clouded over briefly she wasn’t sure he was thinking that either.

“Bring it on, love.” His husky tone only confirming her suspicion. He was gone before she could reply, no doubt on purpose.

Maybe it was a ploy to distract her before the match but Caroline was struggling to decipher whether they were enemies or something else completely.

“He wants to nail you and I’m not talking in a competitive sporting type way.”

“Why thank you, Lorenzo,” she drawled, swatting her best friend away from her personal space. “I’m just glad he didn’t hear you.”

“Why would you care if you didn’t think it was true?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

“Which translates to you wanting to jump his bones,” he teased. “If he swung my way I’d have joined the quidditch team myself.”

“I did not join the team for him,” she huffed, gathering her books and attempting to make her getaway.

“Whatever you say, darling.” His unconvincing tone wasn’t lost on Caroline. Either way she was going to wipe the floor with him and enjoy doing it.

Saturday

“Niklaus? Hello?” The repetitive sound of his inquisitive, and annoying, younger brother’s questions were wearing on his last nerve.

He was trying to get into the zone before the quidditch match. Seated in the Slytherin locker room, it wasn’t something he struggled with usually but today was very different and he knew why.

Caroline Forbes.

He teased her, sure, and pretended he hated her but that wasn’t the case. Not by a long shot. He was head-over-heels and pathetically in love with the blonde witch who’d stolen his heart when she turned him into a toad during charms class.

Not the love at first sight scenario most would imagine.

Sure, he should have been furious, and he’d acted that way, but it only made him want her more.

Then she decided to join the Gryffindor quidditch team.

Klaus wasn’t averse to anyone playing the game but he’d been surprised when she’d admitted it during study hall. He’d been arrogant, because that was his defence mechanism, but only really to mask his real feelings.

It didn’t help that she was a chaser just like him.

“Niklaus!”

“I heard you the first time,” he barked, looking at Kol in frustration.

“Wow, I was only letting you know the game was about to start,” he joked. “If I’d known you were going to be so uptight, I’d have stayed away.”

“I’m not uptight,” he uttered through pursed lips.

“Oh, that’s right,” he offered. “You’re scared your girlfriend is going to whip your ass.”

“I am not.” Klaus didn’t mean for it to come across so abrupt and childish but decided to blame it on his brother’s bad sense of humour. “Enough talking, I’m ready.”

Klaus wasn’t sure if he was but decided that bluffing was his best way of deterring his annoying brother.

45 minutes later

Slytherin had the lead, although Gryffindor was attempting to even the score. Caroline felt the wind whip through her hair as she competed, her attention solely focused, well except for the annoyingly handsome idiot on the opposing team.

If she knew playing was going to feel this good she would have taken it up two years ago. She’d always been competitive but this was next level.

Her persistent opponent was certainly not going to let her forget it though. He was so close she could smell his spicy scent So much so, that after a particularly rough tackle, Caroline felt herself spinning out of control.

The blue sky above and green grass below were playing on uncontrollable repeat, Caroline not quite sure what was happening until she felt someone catch her before she hit the ground.

In fact, she dropped onto something which helped cushion her fall and she was madly trying to get her bearings. Feeling her surroundings, Caroline could make out a set of toned arms, not to mention the hard abdomen she was straddling.

The sound of a muffled groan was enough to wake her from her daze. Caroline’s eyes opened, not expecting Klaus Mikaelson, of all wizards, to be lying beneath her.

“If you wanted me, all you needed to do was ask, love.”

“You wish,” she growled, attempting to stand but failing miserably given their hard fall. “Hang on, why are you here?”

“Because I’m stupid obviously,” he groaned, his pain evident. Then she remembered the strong grip that caught her fall.

“Did you, of all people, really break my fall?” She waited for his response, not realising she was holding her breath.

“If I wasn’t in so much pain, I’d argue you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, sweetheart.”

Clearly that was a yes.

Caroline wanted to argue because that was her immediate instinct when it came to him but he looked so vulnerable. It also didn’t help that she was straddling him in a not so innocent way.

But the way he was staring up at her, dark blue eyes trained on hers, was causing her to falter.

She hated him.

Or so she thought.

“Caroline?Klaus?” She was broken from her trance by their teacher, clearly concerned about their wellbeing splayed out on the field. “Are you both okay?”

Their gaze hadn’t deviated at all, both clearly okay with their current and extremely close predicament. It took another question for them to finally separate.

“Can I help you?”

Caroline immediately felt lost when they did eventually separate. Given the look on his face, she knew Klaus felt the same way.

Slytherin won that match but Caroline promised to avenge the result the following week, secretly hoping she’d find herself wrapped around her opponent again.

Not because she liked him at all but so she could tell him what an ass he was.

Or that’s what she told herself.

#klaroline fall bingo #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline #dramione #fusion

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writingdreamsnottragedies · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction // How you become a Couple.

A/N: Hello my beautiful, beloved 9 followers and and all who read this. I hope you like this reaction ^^

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Namjoon

The day couldn't have been better. Your parents had asked you to check on their house since they were on vacation. Namjoon also offered to accompany you. With his destructive powers you weren't sure if this was a good idea, but you loved his company and so you took him along. After making sure that everything was okay, you spontaneously decided to set up your younger brother's paddling pool and spend the afternoon in the family garden. Now you are lying on one of your parents' deckchairs, your bare feet dipped in the cool water. Only in the corner of your mind you hear Joonie offering you to make a drink. You nod absently, he knows where the fridge is. Your eyes close by themselves and you doze away a little. But the idyll doesn't last long. Suddenly you hear a loud boom and the scream that follows makes you wince. For a moment you remain stiff as a poker in your place, then you jump up as if something had bitten you: "Joonie!" When you arrive in the kitchen you are out of breath, your face is pale. In front of you is a scene of devastation. The blender is no longer what it used to be. To be exact, its parts are scattered all over the kitchen and the part that is still standing in its original place is smoking heavily. On the wall there are remains of what probably should have been a smoothie. As something drips on your shoulder you realize that these remains have also made it to the ceiling. Only Namjoon seems to have vanished: "Joonie?" "I'm here." His voice is quiet and at first you can't locate him. But eventually you'll spot him. He's on his back behind the kitchen counter. The remains of the Smoothie stick on his clothing, too. For a moment you are glad that nothing happened to him, but then your gaze wanders down on him and the panic returns: "You're bleeding!" You get down on your knees before him and take his hands in yours. While the backs of his hands are only scratched, you find his palms covered by numerous small cuts. You let go of his hands and take his face in yours instead, examining it for traces or even splinters. He doesn't move and lets you do: "It doesn't hurt, my hands are just a little scratched, I feel ..." He cuts off in the middle of the sentence as his eyes widen: "Y/N? Are you crying?" You let go of him and now you're touching your own face. It's all wet. You didn't even notice how tears came out of your eyes: "I... I was just so afraid you could have hurt yourself more, I..." You can't get any further, because there are two strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you to Namjoon: "I'm sorry." Your ear is on his chest and you can hear his heartbeat, a sign that he's alive. You close your eyes and let the tears flow freely. You've been worried beyond belief and you feel your whole body letting go. Namjoon holds you until the sobs stop. He loosens his grip, holds you by your shoulders and kisses you on the forehead: "As long as you stay by my side nothing worse can happen to me than an exploded blender". You look down at yourself and now your clothes are dirty too, but his words make you laugh: "I will always stay with you". His next kiss hits your lips.

Seokjin

You spent the whole afternoon competing with Kookie. Actually, you had paid a visit to the boys to see Jin, who you had an incredible crush on, but the youngest had challenged you to a Mario Kart duel that you couldn't refuse. What you both had in common was a desire to win, and so it turned into a loud competition."Won!" You lower the controller and throw your arms up into the air in victory. Your opponent uses the chance to pinch your sides, a place where you are incredibly ticklish. With a laugh you throw yourself against Jungkook and you both almost fall off the sofa. He wraps his arms around you while you try to take revenge on him: "You will regret this. You're so gonna regret this." "Y/N?" Both of you look up as Jin stands in the doorway. His arms are crossed and the look on his face is hard to interpret: "Would you come with me for a moment?" You break away from Kookie and get up, tap your clothes a little: " When I come back, I'll beat you up again, I promise." In a good mood you follow Jin and don't even notice the look he gives Kookie. He leads you into the kitchen and you lean against the counter: "What's up Jin? Shall I help you cook? "Kookie said he wants curry, I think there's enough ingredients in here to make it and..." You flinch when you hear a boom next to you. Jin is on your side within seconds. His hands rest on either side of the counter, preventing you from escaping: "what's wrong?" Your voice shakes, not because you're scared, but because his sudden proximity makes you nervous: "All I hear is Kookie here and Kookie there". He's bending over towards you. He's so close, you can feel his breath on your skin, which gives you goose bumps. His smell is so unbelievably good that a pleasant fog forms around your thoughts and only his voice tears you out of the daydreams that form in your head: "It's almost as if you have feelings for him". From his mouth comes a throaty laugh: "But if that' s the case, then you shouldn't look at me the way you do" He raises one of his hands and strokes your cheek: "With these reddened cheeks". His finger moves to your lips, gently strokes across them: "With these slightly open lips". He bends even further forward so that his lips hover just a few millimeters above yours: "If you look like that I feel like stealing you away from Kookie. To steal a kiss from you..." He smiles slightly, almost sadly, and shakes his head: "But I wouldn't do something like that, that wouldn't be fair". He wants to straighten up again, but now a sound comes over your lips, which you cannot define. Your hands move to his hair and you pull him down to you in a passionate kiss. His eyes widen in surprise, but then he answers your kiss just as passionately. As you separate you are both out of breath. Your eyes meet and you want to kiss again, but a voice prevents you from doing so: "I think it' s nice that you have found each other. But I'm really hungry... can we make curry today?"

Yoongi

For Yoongi, summer was the season he liked least. Not only because it got way too warm for his taste, but also because that very heat made him more tired than usual. He preferred cooler seasons in which his skin didn't burn and he wouldn't sweat so fast.You were the complete opposite. Summer was your absolute favorite season and if you could, you would have spent every minute outside getting warmed by the sun's rays. "Let's go outside!" Yoongi looks at you as if you're asking for the impossible. Today's heat was so intense that not even an air-conditioned studio could stand up against it, so they allowed him and the others to shorten the training a bit. You watch him as he looks up: "It's going to rain soon." You follow his gaze and snort, "There's not a cloud in the sky." You go to him and grab his arm, pull him up from where he sits: "Come on! Just a little, okay?" He sighs and finally gives in. It would only be a short walk anyway. In retrospect, you wonder how he could be so right. Half an hour after you left the building, clouds appear and shortly afterwards it starts to rain. While Yoongi quickly takes shelter under a canopy you stay where you are. Within no time your clothes and hair are soaked, water collects in your shoes, but you don't mind. The water drops feel incredibly good on your skin. Another thing you love about summer is its rain and soon you' re spinning in circles with your arms outstretched. "You'll catch a cold" You hear Yoongi's voice only in passing: " Nonsense. And even if I do, a few days of being sick doesn't bother me, this is worth it" You close your eyes and laugh. You can't deny that on the one hand you think it's sweet that he's worried, but on the other hand you also feel that the rain revives something inside of you. You want to promise him to return to him under the roof, but then someone grabs you by the wrist: "But I would mind." You open your eyes and get almost startled because Yoongi is so close to you. He's got his hands on your wrist and his eyes are looking right into yours. Water drips from his hair falling down on his face, you wonder when he came to you in the rain and why you didn't notice it. What comes next only confuses you more, because he puts his other arm around your waist: "I would mind" he repeats. Then he pulls you towards him and you can feel his body against yours. His skin still seems heated from the midday sun and forms a contrast to you, whose body is already cooled down by the water. "That's why I have to keep you warm." He looks at you and a little smile appears on his lips. It is the first time you see him smile today and it makes your heart flutter. Your next action happens by itself. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your toes. Carefully your cool lips touch his warm ones. The kiss is brief, yet it manages to permeate your entire body with hot shivers. As you release he looks at you seriously. You wonder what is going on in his head and if what you have done is okay for him. His hand comes off your wrist and strokes a wet strand from your face. Then he grins: "Maybe summer's not so bad after all". Neither you nor he pays any more attention to the rain as you share another kiss.

Hoseok

You liked the last VLive from Hoseok very much. You had watched with joy how he had created bracelets for the other members and finally an ARMY bracelet. When he invited you to their dormitory, you couldn't help but bring a small bracelet craft kit that you wanted to give him. It had the desired effect, and when Hoseok saw the new pearls and pendants, he hugged you enthusiastically. Your actual plan to watch a movie had been cancelled, and Hoseok had decided that you should spend your time together making bracelets. You sit at the small coffee table for over an hour now. The lemonade you made in advance is almost gone and the cookies Jin baked the day before have also dropped to a minimum. In the background soft instrumental music plays, a few BTS songs but also other songs. You look up from your own work to watch Hoseok. He seems highly concentrated as he threads pearl after pearl onto the bracelet. While you randomly grab the pearls you like best, he seems to have a system after he goes and which he only changes when something specific catches his eye. You could watch him for hours. You have a crush on Hoseok for a while now and just spending time with him makes you incredibly happy. "Y/N?" Hoseok stops working and looks at you curiously. Only now do you realize that you must have been staring at him: "hmm? I mean, what up?" He starts laughing: "You seem a little distracted. What were you thinking about?" You can feel the blush building up in your face: "Well... I was thinking about how much effort you're putting into this. It's like you're thinking about the smallest things. How you arrange the beads, how you combine the colors. It' s beautiful". You turn your gaze back to your own bracelet and don't see how he turns red too. "Who are you making your bracelet for?" You think for a while, actually you had it made without thinking. You put the last piece of the clasp on: "Give me your arm." He immediately follows your instructions and you put your work on him: "It's nothing special and you don't have to keep it but...""It's beautiful". Hoesok touches it with his fingers and plays with the little sun pendant you put on without thinking: "What's it for?" "Well... you often say you are everyone's hope. And many fans also say you are their sunshine and...for me you are too". You want to change the subject to play down the emerging nervousness, but he grabs your wrist and puts his bracelet on you. You look at it and inevitably you have to giggle: "It's almost like exchanging rings at a wedding" You stroke the pearls with love when his words make you look up again: "Don't you think we should start with a kiss?" You look into his face and finally discover the slight blush on his cheeks. For some reason, it gives you a boost of confidence. With a smile you bend toward him, your lips lightly brushing over his: "I think that‘s an incredibly good idea. But I'm not happy with just one kiss".

Jimin

Today was not made for you. Already when you woke up you felt bad and when it didn't get better after an hour you decided to stay in your hotel room, in your bed. Jimin had invited you to a music video shoot of him and the others and the surroundings including the beach were beautiful. And yet you didn't feel like going out or even communicate, so you didn't even respond to the messages on your cell phone. So you spend your time sleeping and brooding, and when evening comes you can finally get over the idea of listening to music. Your headphones are in your bag and your bag is too far away, so you just turn the music up loud. As your phone plays Serendipidy you close your eyes and breathe out deeply. This song made warmth flow through your heart and your whole body, it soothes you incredibly. You don't hear the knocking. Only when the sound becomes strangely doubled you suddenly startle. You turn off the music, but the singing is still there and it comes from outside. You can't deny your heartbeat, which gets faster with every moment you realize that Jimin is at your door, must have heard your music and is singing the song to you now. You listen to him singing line after line until the last note stops. Then his soft voice: "May I come in?" You hesitate, you're not sure. You look awful, your hair is all tousled and you're still wearing your pyjamas. But finally you get up, open the door for him. He smiles at you, he leans against the door frame a little. He looks exhausted, probably they have just finished the shoot: "I wrote you...you didn't answer...is everything okay?" You let him in and sit on the bed. It takes a while before you start speaking. About everything and nothing, just like that. He listens to you and doesn't interrupt you. You don't know how much time passes while you' re just talk to each other. When he finally asks you to go for a walk, you agree. In silence you go side by side, your path leads you to the beach. Finally you lie down in the sand, he in his music video outfit, you in your pyjamas. A beautiful starry sky opens up above you. Finally, Jimin breaks the silence: " How are you?" You think about it for a while before you answer, "Fine." He seems surprised. "Really? That quick?" During your next words you feel yourself turning red: "Well somehow...ever since I heard you singing outside my door...it's like I decided that all negative feelings have no place in my heart anymore..." After that, it's quiet for a while. You don't look at each other and you already thought you said something wrong, but then there's Jimin's voice again, so quiet that you can hardly hear it: "And? Would you let me?" "Let you what?" Silence again, then: "Well...like in the song...i mean...would you let me love you?" Your eyes widen and now you're the one who's silent. Jimin seems to misunderstand because he straightens up: "I'm sorry Y/N I didn't mean to pressure you, we can forget it, we never have to talk about it again we..." "No! No, no. I'm just... too shocked to understand." You also straighten up and take his hands in yours: "I...I'm so shocked because you make me so incredibly happy..." You take a short break because your heart is racing so fast and the next words are hard for you: "But Jimin I need to know...will you let me love you too?" In response, he gives you an incredibly soft and gentle kiss.

Taehyung

Your preparations for today had already begun weeks ago. Buying a dress, an appointment with the hairdresser and cosmetician. A makeup test. Even if the boys told you that you would look good without all the frills, you wanted to get the best out of yourself for this one day. Tae was nominated for an award and you wanted to be there to keep your fingers crossed for him. Also, and you had to admit this to yourself, you wanted to take a certain person's breath away. Your efforts seemed to bear fruit. On the day of the award you received compliments from many sides and Tae looked over at you more than once. You thanked them each time, but at the same time you made sure that the attention was drawn back to TaehyungDuring the show you took a seat next to the others. Your eyes stick to Tae and you notice his nervousness. But that's not necessary, because when the winner is announced it's indeed Tae. You join in the applause that breaks out right after the announcement while Tae steps on stage to receive his award. During his acceptance speech your eyes meet several times and you can't wait to tell him how proud you are of him. Right after the show you are led into a room backstage by the others. It takes a while until the man of the evening joins you. He accepts several congratulations until he' s finally with you: "Hello Y/N". He looks overjoyed: "I haven't had a chance to tell you how great you look". Your heart makes a little jump: "Thank you so much. But this is about you. Congratulations Tae!" You wrap your arms around him and pull him into a short hug: "You should be really proud of yourself!" You loosen your arms and give him a big smile. He laughs too. Then he takes your face in his hands and before you knew what' s happening, he' s kissing you. It's only a short moment, but it feels like thousands of fireworks exploding inside you at once. As he separates from you, his smile disappears: "Oh Y/N, I'm sorry. I was a little overexcited, I didn't mean to..."He pauses as you shake your head and still smile at him, a slight blush on your cheeks: "I really do hope that this wasn't just a one-time thing". His eyes get bigger as he realizes, then he wraps his arms around your waist and strokes his fingers over the fabric of your dress so that hot shivers run down your back. He bends forward and his lips tickle your ear. His voice sounds soft so only you can hear it: "It depends on what you want..." He lets go of you for a moment and turns to Jimin, who is standing right next to you. The two of them exchange a few words, then they grin, "Have fun." Tae takes you by the hand and pulls you out of the room towards the hotel rooms. Yes, you'd get lots of kisses tonight.

Jungkook

You certainly had your evening planned differently. Your working day had been long, it was already dark. You had eaten a snack and then laid down in the bathtub to relax a little. Time had passed and you had become tired. So you had slipped into your favorite fluffy pajamas, your hair in a towel turban. You didn't feel like drying it. On your bedside table was an exciting book and you wanted to read a few more pages before you finally went to sleep. But nothing came out of it. Shortly before you could open the book, you received a call from Namjoon: "Y/N can you come? We need your help with a situation". When you arrive, the situation turns out to be a slightly drunk Jin, a sober Namjoon and a completely drunk Jungkook. The two older ones tell you that they took the younger one along at his begging, but got distracted for a moment. Probably he had treated himself to more than just one high-proof drink at that moment. You had warned Kookie repeatedly not to overdo it. Not because he wasn't old enough, but rather because he was unbelievably uncooperative in this state and wouldn't budge even if he was asked: "You have to help us Y/N" Jin's voice sounded almost more desperate than Namjoon's on the phone. You sighed: "Go home. I'll take care of it". You spot Kookie almost immediately. He's sitting at the bar, just ordering another drink. When he sees you, a big smile spreads across his face: "Y/N!" he turns to the bartender: "A drink for my girlfriend!" His voice slurs and yet you blush because he calls you his girlfriend. Finally you are at his place and grab his arm gently: "That's enough for today. We can come back tomorrow" You want to pull him gently but firmly from his bar stool, but he holds you back: "You are beautiful" Throaty giggles follow and he bends forward, but you evade him. Your chest contracts painfully, you know that he is not serious. Still you smile: "I know. You look good too. Please come with me now". Finally you manage to pull him off his chair while he starts singing a BTS song. Not beautiful, but with many crooked notes. As you gently talk to him you wonder if you should film him. It might be fun for you and the others to show him that the next morning. Outside you let him go: "I'll call a taxi". You want to take out your cell phone, but his words make you pause: "You...you are so beautiful. I love you so much...Y/N". Your heart stops. He doesn't sound drunk anymore. Instead, he sounds like he always sounds, only more serious. He leans over to you again, this time, you are sure he wants to kiss you. But you push him away from you, shaking your head violently, "Kookie. That may have been fun once, but not anymore. You don't love me". He frowned, visibly irritated: "You don't believe me... why don't you believe me?" "Why?" A laugh comes out of you, but it is not a happy laugh. It is rather bitter: "Jeon Jungkook you are drunk! You can tell me you love me as many times as you want. You are probably imagining it and even if you don't... you will not remember a single word tomorrow". You shake your head and want to turn back to your cell phone, but he grabs your hand and stops you: "I won't forget. I promise you that tomorrow I will remember it and tell you again". His voice sounds incredibly soft and it makes your heart beat immeasurably: "And then I want to hear the same from you. That you love me Y/N". Again you laugh, but this time to hide your nervousness: "And you really think I'm going to say that? In response, he gets down on his knees and kisses the back of your hand before grinning at you: "Of course".

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clareguilty · 4 years

Text

Pulled Punches

Soldier 76/f!reader Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~3000

A smutty gift fic for a friend ;)

“You’re pulling your punches,” Jack crossed his arms. You could imagine his look of disapproval behind his visor.

“No I’m not.” Your response was immediate. Childish. He may have been right, after all. You flipped the grip on your training knife, taking a defensive stance.

“You aren’t attacking with your full weight. If you don’t put more force into it, you won’t do any lasting damage.”

It was frustrating, training CQC with a literal supersoldier. You were untrained, yet you were going up against someone twice your size and with years more experience than you. Jack had beat you every single round for the last half hour, but he refused to let up.

Even though he had his visor on, he was dressed down to just a black tshirt and pants without any of his armor or gear. It was hot as hell in the desert, and you had followed suit in just a loose sleeveless top and some leggings. It was becoming harder and harder to focus as your heart pounded with exertion and Jack’s muscles flexed under his shirt. Why the hell was he so ripped? You had watched him rip a steel door off its hinges two days ago, and now you couldn’t take your eyes off the way his biceps moved under his sleeves.

“Agent, focus,” he snapped. You glared at him.

“Focus on what?” you asked, cocking your head. You were getting tired of this.

Your insubordination must have struck a nerve, because Jack darted forward in an instant, knife drawn faster than you could blink. You sidestepped, ducking under his outstretched arm and taking a few quick swipes at his midsection. He knocked you with his unarmed elbow, and you stumbled back. A boot swept behind your ankles. Suddenly, you were looking up at Jack as he knelt to roll you and pin your knife arm behind your back.

“Fuck you,” you hissed.

He chuckled. The sound made your blood boil. “You need to attack from your core, that’s the only way you’ll have enough strength to disarm your opponent. Don’t worry about hurting me. I can take it.”

“Let me up,” you hit the ground. You didn’t want to admit that you liked the heat of Jack’s hand against your back, or the feeling of his weight on top of you.

He relented, stepping back as you pulled yourself to your feet and readjusted your stance yet again. You were pissed. This whole thing felt pointless. You would never be able to beat Jack. Would you even be good enough to make it out in the field? You had been traveling with Soldier 76 for a few months, and it was hard not to feel like dead weight. He was an ex commander. You were just some naive kid who didn’t know when to quit.

So you squared your shoulders and readied your blade. Jack only seemed amused by your anger. He probably thought it was pitiful.

Except when he attacked this time, you didn’t just sidestep. You dropped low underneath his attack, stepping in close and headbutting him right in the stupid fucking visor.

The impact made your vision go white. Still, you shoved into him with everything you could manage, forcing him back half a step. His balance was unshakeable, but you were too damn mad to even bother taking him down. You just went for blow after blow until he pushed you off of him.

It was a quick reset for you, and you lunged again. This time, he trapped your arm with his, blocking your next swing. You reached to grapple, but he trapped that arm as well. Your leg was lifted and you went down swiftly but gently.

You were pinned beneath Jack, snarling and furious. He pulled the knife from your hand far too easily for your liking.

“That was great,” he praised you, never breaking his hold on you. “Much better.”

“You motherfucker. Don’t patronize me.” You were fed up with Jack constantly talking down to you.

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Just get the fuck off me,” you shoved at him. He backed off and offered a hand to help you up, which you ignored. You stormed back to the bunker, fed up with sparring for the day.

The bunker was an old shelter from the omnic crisis, set into the side of a hill and pretty well fortified as well as off the grid. You didn’t question how Jack knew to find it, or how well stocked it was -- as though someone had been through recently and replenished the supplies. It was one room with an adjoining bathroom, minimal counter space, gas cooktop, low cots scattered about and an old sofa with a coffee table strewn with incomplete decks of cards.

Jack didn’t come back inside until later; he probably wanted to give you a chance to cool off.

“I’ve got food,” he announced as he pushed open the heavy door. The smell of meat and corn hit your nose, and suddenly you were much more forgiving.

You dug into your portion. Jack ate on the other side of the room, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“What?” you demanded around a mouthful of food.

Jack chuckled and shook his head. “You are the most insubordinate little shit I’ve ever had the pleasure of traveling with -- and that includes Jesse McCree of all people.”

You scowled and turned away.

“I’m very proud of you,” Jack said, and you nearly choked on your food. “You learn fast, and you train hard. It’s good to see you’re improving every day.”

“It’s not enough,” you shrugged.

“What do you mean ‘not enough’? You’re picking up combat skills on the fly as fast as any of the best recruits I trained back in Overwatch. I’m amazed at how well you understand everything, it doesn’t come easy to everyone.”

“But it’s not fast enough,” you turned to face him. “I’m still years behind everyone else. Shrike? Reaper? Widowmaker? They’re the best at what they do. Even the fucking cowboy can aim while he’s drunk. If I keep dragging you down, you’re going to get hurt.”

Jack seemed shocked by your outburst. “I wouldn’t keep you around if I didn’t think you could handle it. I knew the risks when I let you travel with me.”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You weren’t sure what you wanted to hear. “I’m going to shower and get some sleep.” Your chair scraped across the floor.

You had grown used to the closeness that came with traveling with Soldier 76. The shared space, the unspoken boundaries. He had spent years living in close quarters with other soldiers on the field. Your life had left you no stranger to such things either.

Except for the feelings you constantly tried to push down. The respect and adoration for this hero who had picked you up off the ground. You had tried to play it off as admiration for his service, and a stupid celebrity crush, misplaced feelings because Jack was the only person you saw most days. But that wasn’t the truth. It was something deeper, something dangerous. You had fallen for this man who was training you, caring for you.

Too bad he would never feel the same.

‘Agent.’ ‘Recruit.’ That’s all you were. Jack was a hero, more than you would ever be. You were nothing to him. It hurt. You settled in on your cot, facing the wall and counting the minutes until Jack turned the lights off.

You woke up screaming. Gasping for air. Someone was there, and you lashed out without thinking.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jack’s rough voice brought you back to reality. “It’s me. I’m right here.”

Jack. He was alive. He was safe. You fisted your hands in the worn material of his shirt and buried your face in his chest. Your cheeks were wet with tears.

“You had a nightmare,” he said calmly. “Have you been having them recently?”

You nodded, clinging to him desperately in case he tried to disappear. “Ever since we faced Reaper in Mexico City.”

Jack hummed. He was thinking. “You’re worried he could have killed you?”

“I’m worried he could have killed you,” you shuddered. “He almost did.”

A hand smoothed down your back, rubbing large circles. “He’s almost killed me a hundred times.”

“Not helping.”

“No,” Jack breathed, “I guess not.” He moved to sit on the tiny cot, pulling you into his lap and holding you to him. “I thought you would be glad to be rid of me? No one to kick your ass in training.”

“Still not helping,” you said.

“Alright. I promise I’m not going anywhere. I’m too damn stubborn and petty to die at this point. And these days I’ve actually got something to fight for. Something worth protecting.” His voice, normally so strong and commanding, wavered just a bit.

“What’s that?” You finally looked up at him, tear-stained and trembling.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“You bastard,” you cursed and beat a fist against his chest.

“What did I do this time?” He asked. He was smiling, you could hear it.

“Don’t you know I’m in love with you?” It wasn’t how you wanted to confess. You hadn’t wanted to confess at all. You were fine taking your feelings to the grave rather than face this kind of vulnerability.

He froze. A moment of careful consideration. Risk evaluation.

“I thought you were smarter than that,” he finally admitted.

“I thought I was too,” you huffed.

“You need sleep,” he said, trying to change the subject.

“You’re supposed to tell me to get over it.” Why was he still holding you? Why hadn’t he pushed you away? He should have been disgusted. Offended.

“What?”

“You’re supposed to tell me that I’m a reckless kid and I need to get over my feelings for you.” You needed that closure, needed a push in the right direction.

“I… can’t do that.” He sounded miserable. Defeated.

“I thought you were a hero?” Why were you still letting him hold you? Why were you so comfortable in his arms? You should have been disgusted.

“I’m a sad old fool. And I love you too.”

It should have been the type of revelation that made everything change. You should have felt your heart race and your cheeks flush and it should have been everything you had ever dreamed. Instead, you were coming off an adrenaline crash after your nightmare, and you could barely keep your eyes open as you breathed in the smell of leather and pulse munitions.

You would deal with this later. Everything later.

You woke groggy and way warmer than you would have liked to be. Lifting your head, you realized you were sleeping on Jack’s chest, one of his arms thrown around you protectively.

“Oh, fuck,” you groaned.

“I feel that,” Jack said, not moving. He had probably been awake for a while, lying perfectly still. Was he scared of something?

“You’re not actually in love with me, are you?” You squinted, trying to remember what dumb shit you had said last night.

“I should be asking you the same question.”

“Am I in trouble?” you asked.

“What would you be in trouble for?” Jack pushed up to his elbows, letting you sit against the wall and drag your hands down your face.

“I don’t know? You’re the commander or whatever. Isn’t it against the rules for me to want to fuck you?”

Jack made a choked sound. He flushed pink to the tips of his ears before finding his words. “Well, I’m not a commander anymore. And I think I’d be in even bigger trouble for wanting to be with you.”

It was your turn to stutter and flail. The thought of your feelings being reciprocated was still foreign. “We’re fucking idiots,” you groaned.

“Well,” Jack said, “What do you want to do next?”

“What do I want to do?” you asked incredulously. “If I had my way, you’d be pinning me to this cot, and I wouldn’t be able to remember my own name.”

It was a bluff. An exaggeration. An attempt to break the tension. You didn’t think he would take it seriously.

He moved too quickly. You didn’t stand a chance, still half asleep and reeling. And there you were, on your back, staring up at Jack’s gorgeous blue eyes as he smirked and settled his weight on top of you.

“Have I ever told you that you run your mouth off too much?” he asked.

For once, you were speechless. No witty remark, no spitfire comeback. You just wanted Jack to kiss you, but you couldn’t even find the words to ask for it.

“That’s better,” he teased you. He leaned down to capture your lips with his own and you moaned against his mouth. It was everything you had dreamed it would be. And you had dreamed about this a lot.

You rolled your hips up to grind against Jack. He groaned low in his throat and rocked back against you. “You’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable?”

“Just don’t stop,” you fisted your hands in his shirt and pulled him to you. You had only gotten this far by some fluke, and you weren’t about to let it slip away. Your hands wandered everywhere, broad shoulders, thick arms, hard chest, firm ass. Jack seemed all too pleased by your admiration, he basked in it with a cocky grin. “Kiss me you cocky piece of shit,” you rolled your eyes.

A firm hand grabbed at your ass, and Jack growled in your ear, “Is that any way to speak to your commander?”

You moaned and let your head tip back so he could drag his teeth over your pulse point. It was a blinding sensation, and you retaliated by grabbing Jack’s cock through his pants. He was hard already. His grip on your ass tightened, a low moan escaping him.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart? You want Daddy’s cock?” He forced you to meet his eyes, holding your gaze as he waited for a response.

“Fuck that’s hot. That’s kinda weird, but it’s hot. Why is it hot?” You weren’t expecting it, but the way it made your stomach flip -- you were definitely into it.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I want you to fuck me,” you huffed.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, kissing you once more. This time, the two of you shed clothes piece by piece. Jack marveled at your chest when you tossed your shirt to the ground. He brushed his rough fingers over your nipples, delighting at your reaction. He didn’t need any encouragement to begin kissing over the sensitive skin, taking your nipples into his mouth.

“Jack,” you moaned.

“That’s it sweetheart. Tell Daddy what you want.” He pulled your leggings off and nudged your thighs apart, teasing you with delicate fingers.

You hated it. Hated having to ask for such dirty, embarrassing things when Jack clearly knew what you wanted. But damn if it didn’t make you wet.

“Inside --” You squeezed your eyes shut and bucked your hips. “I need you inside of me, Daddy.”

It was the magic word. Jack couldn’t control himself after hearing it. He stroked your clit and pressed a finger inside of you, quickly adding a second. You moaned and palmed his cock as best you could through his underwear. He was big -- bigger than you had imagined. Damn super soldiers.

It felt amazing, and you would have been happy to come just like that, but Jack wanted more.

“I need to be inside you,” he growled. He kicked off the last of his clothes, stroking his cock before settling between your legs. “Is that okay, baby?”

You nodded, trying to pull him in closer to you. “Please,” you whined.

He rubbed his cock along your entrance, pressing the tip in slightly. “I’ve got you,” he pulled you against him as he pressed forward. It was a stretch, but Jack kissed you so sweetly, whispering to you. He waited, watched your expression and held still until you gave him permission to move.

It was slow, careful, at first. Both of you trying to match the other. You finally found a rhythm that felt right, and Jack began to move quicker and quicker, harder and harder. You clung to him tightly, kissing sloppily over his neck and jaw. It felt so good, everything you had ever wanted.

Jack’s hand slipped between your bodies, a few strokes over your clit and you came around his cock. He held you as you shook and gasped, sinking your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans.

“That’s it, baby.” He laid you gently on your back. “Let Daddy take care of you.”

He didn’t slow, continuing to fuck you as you worked through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He was getting closer. The pace of his hips faltered. “I’m close,” he moaned.

He pulled out as he came, stroking himself and spilling across your chest. It was messy, and you would have been annoyed if it wasn’t so damn hot. Jack stilled for a moment, but he made no move to lay down or clean up.

“Jack?” you asked. He leaned forward and kissed you, pressing your foreheads together,

“Are you able to go again?” he asked.

You were surprised, but you found yourself nodding. Jack was just as careful this time, making sure you were as comfortable as possible before taking you once more. He worked you to a slower, softer orgasm.

You came down from the high, and things started to become too much. It wasn’t the same blinding pleasure anymore. Jack didn’t seem to be tired at all. He brushed your hair out of your eyes, trailing a thumb over your lips. “Hold on, baby. Just a little bit more.”

He came again over your chest. You lay there painting as he shuddered through his second orgasm. This time, he wiped you down carefully, splitting a bottle of water with you. He pulled you close to him.

“You’re still hard?” You felt his cock against you.

“Don’t worry about it -- super soldier shit.” He nuzzled against your skin. “We’re not training today. I just want to lay here.”

You were perfectly fine with that.

Masterlist

#soldier 76 x reader #soldier 76/reader #soldier 76 #jack morrison/reader #jack morrison x reader #Jack Morrison #overwatch fanfic #smut #lemons

241 notes · View notes

thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 3 years

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Alrighty, so some of you have seen me talking about my OC fic and here’s the first chapter. Mostly still just premises and introducing my primary OC, but hopefully it’ll give you guys an idea of what is to come.

I do not (currently) have an A03, and am wondering if I should make one, but we’ll. The fic will have mature content in it and reader discretion is advised.

Word count: 4959

Chapter 1

Rain. A cold wind blew from what must have been west, flowing amidst the trees of the forest Solara was passing. Luckily it wasn’t pouring down, but this dark and dreary weather was hardly pleasant either. Her feet splashed on the soft ground as she made her way forward, the chill seeping down to her muscles. She was fortunate to not be one to get cold too easily, but this had continued for a good while already and soon it’s be more sensible to just camp for the night.

More sensible, she thought to herself. Many wouldn’t deem passing through a strong magic reason on one’s own as sensible by any means, especially as she wasn’t exactly in her element at the moment. But she was confident that the mana that surrounded her, would give her all the aid she needed. After all, it was inscribed into her veins with the blood of her ancestors. Mana will pass you, flow through your fingertips as you command, people would say. As if it was that simple. Nothing is simple. And yet, everything is simple.

She smirked as she stopped and looked up to the grey sky, pulling her hood from her face. Droplets beat against her complexion, as she pondered about it. Just one more paradox to consider, huh? There was so much to see, so much to consider before returning home for good and taking on her position. All the options, customs, practises, and endless amount of them. Would they really work in Thea? It was all just so… different. And yet, when you look it deep down, to the very basics of it, everything was the same. Is that what they want us to understand? Is that what they want us to see beforehand? That behind every banner, every border, there are people with hopes and dreams and ideals, much like our own. Isn’t that given? She sighed and turned to face back down, continuing forward. But it doesn’t mean that their loyalty is with you… The thought weighed on her as she walked, deep in thought and mana swirling around her.

She stopped. Her posture straightened as something pierced through the steady fluttering of energy around her. Not exactly hostility, but there was an intention in the making. She looked around for the source, until she noticed a pair of ferocious blue eyes staring at her, and she felt the untamed roar of the fiery mana. She stared back, waiting for whatever would follow. Had they wanted to attack her, it would have made more sense to do so when she wasn’t paying attention. Or was this the brief moment during which a predator zeroes in on their target before lunging in, having only just noticed their prey? Regardless, she stared back, turning to face the eyes and removed her hood, the last act appearing to serve as an invitation.

A red-haired figure lunged at her, eyes gleaming with bloodlust and a sound barrier piercing yell erupting, breaking air between them. Solara dodged only to find the attacker follow her movements seamlessly.

Fists… How straightforward of her… Hm. She’s also fast and she can use mana zone as well. But she is yet to strike at my vitals, she thought as she stared her attacker, eye to eye, testing which of them would blink first.

They bounced around, using mana zone to its full potential as Solara continued to evade the punches coming her way. She frowned as she saw how lazily those strikes were thrown her way, simultaneously wondering about what possible motivations the woman might have. This was hardly a proper fight, yet at least, but still she kept her mana skin up and opened her mouth to speak; only to close it as the space between them abruptly grew. The woman stood still; gaze still fixed on her.

That gaze. Solara knew it. She was being evaluated. All those attacks hadn’t been careless, they had been for the sole purpose of testing her. Her eyes opened wider at the revelation. I see… she thought as she grinned. A little brawl might be fun. I wonder if you can push me past wanting to open the seals…

The woman grinned in turn before shouting out: “Glad you finally figured it out! Now, come at me!”

Solara chuckled to herself internally as she thought: Who is this woman?

The woman lunged forward once more, casting out a spell; honestly not quite what Solara expected after knowing that she had been assessed. But then again, one hardly evaluates by coming in with all their strength at once. Or rather, most wouldn’t, but judging from the blazing mana that was now enhancing the woman’s attacks, she meant to end this quickly.

Alright. She thought as she pressed her middle finger tightly against her thumb, preparing to snap her fingers. “Ignire,” she spoke, the hushed syllables leaving her lips as the snap of her fingers ignited the soaked grass at the forest bed, a wall of flame erupting around her. The smell of rain and smoke mixed together as the swirling flares around her lashed out from the wall, slashing and scorching everything on their path. And yet, the unfamiliar mana lingered. She’s pushing through. Solara’s smirk grew wider, as the other dived into her flames. And so, she waited for her opponent to reach the eye of the storm, which the woman did, unphased.

Solara dispelled her flames, now standing on the ashen ground. “Not bad!” she yelled at a language that was spoken in this part of the world, bending the syllables around her tongue.

“Took the words right out of my mouth! Here’s your reward: Calidus Brachium Barrage!” The woman roared, her glowing grimoire fluttering onto another page, sending several beams of fire hurling down and around, leaving nothing untouched.

Solara knew that she couldn’t evade such an attack just like that, but what if I make the attack evade *me*? An idea formed as she bent her mana around her hands, grasping onto her known spells, fusing them together.

“Dance of the Heavenly Bodies,” the name formed on her lips as naturally as breathing, creating a field of gravity around her, trapping the rays of flame on a path around her and sending them back to whence they came from. Thundering booms pierced through the air, muffling the yells that followed.

Solara concentrated more mana around her, building her mana skin more, making her nails extend to those of claws that radiated with the brightness and blaze of the sun. The woman, casting the same spell as before, smiled wider than before as she didn’t hesitate in charging forth. Flame and flare clashed together, burning the occasional aberrations that were drawn in by the mana as neither wanted to back down.

It was only later, once they sat together on a blackened rock in the sea of dust and ash, that they exchanged their first proper conversation. Rain had slowed down, but still dripped down around them, making the acers worth of cinders cool down, and the damp ash was kept from floating into the air and suffocating them.

“So, what are you doing out here?” the woman asked, facing to the sky and letting the rain wash streaks of coal from her complexion.

“I was just passing through, simple as that,” Solara replied as she stared into the distance where a blackened tree line now laid.

“Oh? Where are you headed?” The red head inquired, now turning her head to Solara.

“Nowhere in particular. I just wish to see as much of the world before I need to take on my responsibilities as the next head of the family.” Her admission flowed from her as half a statement and half a sigh.

The woman scoffed. “And why would you like to submit to an enforced fate like that? My path is my own to make, though suppose I should be glad that my parents never forced it on me.”

Solara slightly chuckled. “Did I say that my parents are forcing me? No, no. The wish is my own. You see I want to take on the responsibility eventually, but I just wish that I get to grow enough to be ready for the part once it’s time.” Her gaze fell to the ground without focus as she spoke.

“You know you sound a bit like my dim-witted little brother,” the woman sneered.

“Hm?” Solara uttered gazing to the woman, sitting next to her and looking into the distant tree line, one leg dangling off the edge of the rock and another bent, serving as an armrest for her left arm.

“Not a lot. But a bit. He’s far too responsible for his own good, and I swear if I ever find out who put the pole up his arse, I’ll tear that person a new one.”

Solara stared at her, blinking slowly at the statement before bursting into laughter which contested the sound of falling rain.

Whatever tension there had been left, dangling in the air, had now passed as the woman chuckled a bit to herself with a melancholic smile. And Solara looked at her, laughter quieting down; and instead, her expression was replaced with an empathetic smile.

“So, what are you doing here? Finding a path of your own?” She asked, half joking as she didn’t wish to pry, and thought that she might as well distract her newfound friend from whatever was causing her such apathy. But instead, the question washed away the smile the woman had worn.

“I was…” she paused for a moment, but her tone never faltered from the epitome of determination Solara knew it to be. “But I just received word to come back home, because that idiot I call brother fucked up and now I need to come back and clean up a mess.” She sighed and gazed to the ground making Solara frown.

“Would it not be better for your brother to learn from his mistakes and correct them by himself?” Solara asked, keeping her gaze on the woman.

“He can’t.” There was irritation in the statement, but it wasn’t directed at Solara.

“Can I ask why?” Solara continued, keeping her tone as calm and soft as she could, but such that the woman might still hear her.

“He’s in a coma because some bastard tore off his arm. I thought that he was better than that. To let his guard down like that. But I’ll take over his squad and kill every single one of those shitheads that did this to him!” The woman growled like thunder, her canine sharp and ready to tear through flesh and bone.

Solara was taken aback by the statement, her eyes widening as she kept looking at the woman for a moment. She turned her head to face forward as a small smile veiled with sadness rose to her lips. After which she placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder.

“Your brother is lucky to have you as his sister,” Solara paused for a moment, thinking if she should stay out of it or not. “Look, I know that it’s none of my business, but if I can help…” the woman turned to her, as she lifted her hand from her shoulder.

“No. As that knuckle head’s older sister, it’s my job to claim vengeance on my brother’s behalf.” The woman stated, her tone letting Solara know that she will not budge.

“Ah, I didn’t mean in the actual spilling of blood, oh no. That is yours. You see, if someone did that to my sisters, they’d have hell to pay. So, I wouldn’t consider going between you and them. But if there is anything that I can do, just tell me.” The woman stared at Solara, gaze piercing through her.

“And what if all I told you just now was a lie? Then you’d be helping out a murdered.” She stated without blinking.

“True,” Solara admitted. “But if it is what you say, then there is proof, is there not? I would imagine that you first need to get back home and find out who did that to your brother, as well as taken on the responsibilities he’s currently unable to fulfil. After all that is figured out, I’d know that what you’re telling me, isn’t a lie. Besides, it’s not like you’re telling me to go kill someone on your behalf, but rather that you wish to do it yourself. All those things tell me a lot already. And no, I do not judge you for wanting to avenge your brother, though,” Solara scoffed and continued: “I should tell you to keep your cool and run it by a judge.” She turned her head towards the woman, who was still staring at her, evaluating her in a very different manner as before.

“So, just like that. You don’t judge me for what I admitted intending to do?”

Solara replied without blinking: “I do not judge you for wanting to protect her family.”

They shared a glance understanding what the other meant, and nodded to each other.

“Have you been to Clover Kingdom before?” The woman asked, changing the subject.

“Clover Kingdom? No, I don’t believe I have. Or if I have, then I’ve done so unknowingly,” Solara stated, her eyes shifting to the sky for a moment as she thought.

“You coming from the Heart Kingdom then?” The woman continued, pausing to let Solara answer.

“Hmm. I’m afraid none of these countries mean anything to me by name. The best I can tell you is that I’m travelling from the south, but I didn’t cross the border to the nation on the eastern side, because of the mana that surrounded it. It seemed like the entire country was being watched, and I figured that if they’re keeping a watchful eye on their own, they wouldn’t like visitors. And moving to the west, the climate got… hostile. I don’t know, there was something very uninviting in the western regions, so I continued north and here I am.” Solara shrugged, gazing back to the woman who stayed silent for a moment.

“So, where are you from?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m from a country called Thea. It’s a solitary island nation far out in the open ocean, so unfortunately transportation requires magic or a… very long sea voyage.”

The woman gazed at Solara, staying silent for a moment before shrugging. “Never heard of Thea, but suppose if it is secluded, then it’s no surprise.” She directed her gaze back forward and let silence fall between them once more.

“Where are you from? This ‘Clover Kingdom’ perhaps?” Solara asked breaking the silence, having made a guess based on the questions the woman had made, but preferring to ask just to be sure.

The red-head next to her only nodded, her gaze staying on the ground and the look of melancholy veiling her expression again. Solara placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder once more, giving her a faint smile.

“It’ll work out,” she tried, not really knowing what to say. The woman glanced at her, not saying anything.

They sat in silence, listening to the light rain for a moment before gliding down from the rock. Their clothes became painted black, but neither bothered trying to dust it off as it’d be a lost cause.

The woman started walking forward and Solara followed without a word. “What’s your name?” the red-head asked, glancing at Solara.

“Ah, right, introductions,” Solara smirked. “I’m Solara, Solara Equinox.”

The woman smirked as well, her gaze turning forward again. “Introductions are dull and tedious things to start with,” she paused for a moment, “I’m Mereoleona Vermillion, but you can call me Mereo or Leona. I hope you realize that it’s not a privilege I allow for most,” she smirked, making Solara chuckle.

“I’ll be sure to use that privilege wisely,” she grinned and continued. “But I’m glad to have met you.”

“Likewise,” Mereo smiled. They shared one more glance before setting sights forth, the grey sky above them opening up, and sunlight cascading over them as they started their journey.

---

They travelled further east, Mereo leading the way as Solara didn’t have the faintest clue on where precisely they were headed. The thick forest changed into hills and mountains, and gradually signs of civilization showed itself. And as it did, the strong pool of mana flowing deep in the earth faded, leaving nothing but the faint glow of it behind, but that was nothing new. After all, most nations were founded on land much like this, which was sensible.

They passed some villagers on their way, but not once did they meet anyone who wouldn’t have any magic. There was always that small lingering swirl, flutter or flow, which had seemed to be the case everywhere outside of Thea. But judging from some, it’d take just a few more generations until magic would fade away from their bloodlines, forcing them to adapt. Though adapting was something they would have needed to do thus far already, having to rely on physical labour in place of magic. Solara couldn’t help but wonder why mostly physical labour, but reasoned that it must be because technology just hadn’t evolved far enough yet, or that the Kingdom just didn’t have the necessary funds to supply all of its citizens with the necessary equipment. In any case, she didn’t ask, thinking that the answer would present itself eventually, and it wasn’t important at the moment.

The further inland they travelled, the more mana people seemed to have, and the more refined the infrastructure grew, making it appear that the individuals possessing more mana were concentrated in the central parts of the Kingdom, instead of being spread out throughout the country. This meant that discrimination and a classification system of some kind were highly probable.

By now Solara and Mereo had bonded, having become close friends, but Mereo rarely implied anything to have to do with her family heritage. She always spoke of people as people, who they were. No titles, no positions, just who they were. Quite frankly, it was refreshing to Solara, which made her all the happier about having met Mereo. Especially since given the make of her clothes, although tattered and sullied by the journey, were of good quality and her amount of mana spoke of a high position within the society.

Perhaps she’ll be able to implement ground breaking changes, Solara thought to herself. But what did strike her as odd, was the fact that not even once had Mereo suggested staying in an inn on their journey. Though, if one travels into the wilderness with the intention to brawl with whatever creatures crosses your path, money isn’t something one would need. And besides, staying at an inn didn’t seem like Mereo’s style.

---

The Royal Capital. It could be seen from miles away, standing tall amidst a sea of grass. It certainly made a statement. Speaking of pride, how it’d stay in place, unmoved by any force of nature and standing above it. A declaration to which Solara couldn’t say much, knowing that each nation was no stranger to such notions. The streets, gates and turns of which weren’t much different from those she had seen countless of times, people going about their lives just as anywhere else, and the only differences laid in details.

But as they walked through the streets of the Royal Capital further in, and near the castle, Solara felt the stare of all who they passed. Hearing whispers, but was unable to make out what was said, most likely something about their attires. Solara shrugged at them, following Mereo through the streets even deeper into the city. At every turn, she expected Mereo to head for a door, but she kept going, and after a while Solara stopped guessing which house Mereo would enter and instead let her gaze wander around.

The castle towered over the surrounding buildings, along with the wall surrounding it. Packed right in the middle of the city. Talk about lack of privacy, Solara thought quietly to herself.

There was a small clearing outside of the gates, passing through which she felt a familiar presence. So, she stopped and looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of a familiar face, but seeing none. But still she had a hunch as to who it had been, as she knew that mana as well as the back of her hand. Selena? She thought, before being woken from her daydream.

“Try to keep up Solara!” Mereo yelled, standing at the gates to the castle.

Solara’s eyes widened slightly. She’s… royalty? Hm. I did not expect that, she shrugged to herself before hurrying to the open gate, the guards giving her glances.

“What was that?” Mereo asked as they entered to the courtyard.

“Nothing. I just thought that I saw someone familiar, but I must have been mistaken,” she shrugged, making Mereo give her a glance, but dropping the subject.

“I’ll go see my brothers and parents, but you can go take a shower if you want to,” Mereo stated, her tone again laced with apathy.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to tag along?” Solara asked, smiling to Mereo with an equally saddened gaze.

“No,” Mereo sighed, “it’s a family affair and besides. I’m sure you’ll have your chances of meeting both of my idiotic brothers and my parents,” she said with a faint smirk. Solara only nodded, knowing that the sentiment had been noted and was appreciated.

Mereo led her towards one of the castle entrances, decorated with a crest of a golden lion. Upon a closer inspection, it seemed like the castle was divided into three separate sections, which hadn’t been quite as obvious from outside. Three families perhaps?

Mereo waltzed in, and told the first maid that crossed their path to prepare a room for Solara, as well as supply the blonde with spare clothing and food, before disappearing, and leaving Solara standing in the corridor with the maid.

“Um… ma’am?” the maid said with a quiet and meek voice.

“Yes?” she uttered, softly like the spring sun.

“Would you like to bathe ma’am?” The maid averted her gaze, blushing violently.

Solara tilted her head, knowing fully well the state that she was in and smiled. “Yes, very much so. Thank you for being so considerate.”

The woman met Solara’s gaze for a brief moment, before averting her eyes once more. “Of course,” she whispered, before continuing with an audible voice. “This way please,” she stated while gesturing towards a hallway, to which Solara only nodded before following.

The turns and endless corridors reminded Solara of home, even if it wasn’t quite the same. But somehow this house felt warm as well. Surely all who had the finances to upkeep such an estate could keep it heated, but the kind of warmth that existed between people, was what she focused on. The lingering atmosphere radiated from the walls and windows, amplifying itself as acceptance and love, which were far too scarce in the halls of noble bloodlines. Too many houses had she seen, where family members were strangers to each other, only wishing to pursue their own goals and dreams.

Of course, there always was the entire spectrum of hearts beating together as one, and those frozen solid with permafrost, laying in between, but she couldn’t help but feel sorrow for those that lived loveless lives; a problem that didn’t care of one’s birth origin, making no distinction between nations and classes.

Steps echoes from the walls as they walked, Solara falling deeper into the sea of thought. The last few rays of sunlight cascaded through the windows, and painted the floors with a river of melted gold. An eerie feeling overtook Solara, catching her heartstrings and pulling onto them as if she had been caught in a net. She lifted her gaze from the floor, eyes shifting around in disbelief as she searched her feelings for even the tiniest whisper of explanation. But nothing surfaced, there was only the soft embrace of a silken net, tugging her and imploring her to stay. It wasn’t a spell, no, it couldn’t have been, but something else. There were no suffocating binds, only threads of luminescent cobweb.

“Here we are ma’am,” the maid spoke and gestured to a door, waking Solara once more from her thoughts.

“Ah, thank you,” she smiled stepping forth to the door.

“Would you like me to take your garments straight to laundry?” The woman asked, the meek and mellow tone still glazing her tone.

Solara let out a hum, but didn’t need to ponder for long. “Yes, that would be most gracious of you.” She turned her head towards the maid as she spoke.

“If it would suit you ma’am, I’ll bring you a change of clothes later, and in terms of dinner, would you prefer to dine here, or in the dining hall?” The maid asked, keeping her gaze on the floor.

Solara blinked at the question, having thought it to be obvious, but brushed it off as not being familiar with the customs of this country. “I would prefer to dine with the family, if that is a possibility.” She stated, the smile returning to her complexion.

“I’m afraid the family won’t be dining together this evening ma’am,” the maid apologized.

“Ah, well in that case I’d like to have dinner here.” Solara replied, tilting her head.

“Very well ma’am.” The maid simply replied, marking the end to the conversation.

Once inside the room, Solara undressed behind a screen as the maid drew her a bath. She folded her clothes into a pile, but placed the small satchel she had had with her to the side. The maid picked up her clothes, informing that she’d be back in a short while, and would soon make the bed for her, before stepping out after Solara had thanked with a smile before.

Silence fell into the room as Solara had been left alone. She entered the bathroom and climbed into the bath, warm water caressing her skin and melting all tension from her muscles and joints. Oh, how I missed this, she thought as she sank in, surrendering to the warm embrace of water. She picked up a bar of soap and started gliding it across her skin, washing away the soil and sully while humming a gentle tune to herself as a smile crept on her face. As she dipped her hair beneath the surface, she stayed lingering, enjoying the silence cradling her. Her fingers dug into her scalp as she washed her hair, making her exhaled deeply as a hum left her throat, feeling like all her worries flowed from her into the tub and down the drain.

After a while there was a knock on the door, the maid returning with a pile of clothes that she placed on a counter in the bathroom, saying that she’d be making her bed, and soon someone else would bring her dinner. Solara got out of the tub, giving her thanks and drying herself to a towel which felt like cotton against her reddened skin.

She started inspecting the clothes, which were just a simple white shirt and pants, but then again that sufficed. The fabric felt like silk between her fingers, despite being only cotton, but as she had been travelling for so long, this was so much softer than many things her fingers had graced lately.

She exited the bathroom, letting her eyes wander around. There was a fire lit in the fireplace, casting warm light all around the room which made the bed present itself as all the more inviting. All she wanted to do was burrow herself into the bed, and wrap the blanket around herself, sinking her head into the pillow, which must have been soft as a cloud. But she also needed to eat, and food was being brought to her. Thus, would she choose to go to sleep already, she’d be impolite. So, instead she walked around the room, gazing out of the windows. The city seemed to be quieting down, people returning to their homes as the sun had already set, only the afterglow remaining in the sky before the moon and stars would take their turn.

There was a knock at the door and food was delivered as promised. After weeks of wild game, nothing could beat a cooked meal, writing symphonies on her palette, which made her glad about not giving in to the desire of climbing in bed and instead battle her weary eyes. At that point she thought to have chosen wisely by asking to eat in her room, as the proper court manners had left her, and instead, she ate with hunger. But the satisfaction that came with it, oh, of all the pleasures she had known thus far, not many could compare. After all, it was the little things that made life fulfilling. A relaxing bath. A good meal. And being able to sleep in a soft, comfortable bed after a long trip.

She finished her dinner and climbed to bed, the sheets cradling her, imploring her to just lie down. And for the life of her, she couldn’t resist the call. As she climbed under covers and settled down, she felt as if she was floating on a bed of clouds, ready to drift off to a place far from here, or home, only to return in the morning. And for reasons she could not tell, she had an inkling feeling that she’d grow a lot more at home here, but brushed it off as nothing more than a passing thought, resulting from all the good she had experienced thus far.

#embers of sun and flame #oc;solara #black clover fanfiction #fuegoleon x solara #fuelara

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sunseteyes · 4 years

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AGATSUMA TWINS — Z. AGATSUMA

—a short two-shot dedicated for zenitsu agatsuma’s birthday

theme/s: fluff, angst, orphan degradation, reconciliation, siblings au

description: you are zenitsu agatsuma’s strength. but what happens when you’re taken away from him?

[ intro | one | two ]

i actually feel bad for ending this already. this plot is supposed to be with an oc and it should’ve been a fanfic i’ll post in ao3 but then since nitsu’s birthday and a new semester for me were coming up, i just thought i should post a shorter version so that i could still let out this plot. either way, to all who supported this twoshot, thank you! happy birthday my bb nitsu!!

“you look horrible, niisan.”

even in his sleep, he knows that voice. he could remember that sound everywhere. and out of all the words you chose to say to him, it was of those that made him want to crawl further underground into the depths of the world.

“(y/n)?”

he can feel your presence; strong and calm, as like a gentle rhythm in his ears. he can hear you now.

but how? is it because he’s unconscious? or is it because... you’ve found your true sound?

you moved like a tidal wave, your silence proving the placidity of your soul. he stood there, marveling you and the surprise of meeting you in the middle of a battle still stuck to him.

“(y/n)-chaaaan! you came to rescue us, didn’t you? didn’t you?”

“(y/n)! you’re here!”

he should be displaying that kind of affection yet it was one of uzui’s wives who had done so.

suma wrapped her arms around your neck, the woman overjoyed by your arrival.

zenitsu and even inosuke was confused.

“what? did i heard it right? you have a sibling???” he went towards the blonde, nudging him as they watched the interaction between you, makio and suma.

you defeated the sash in just one surprise attack and it had caused a standstill for everyone who were in the area. for a moment, zenitsu thought you were the sound pillar due to your strength. however, when he heard your voice comment about him, he was left surprised even more.

another figure comes from above, towering over everyone and catching their attention just like how you did.

“ah! good work, my successor!” zenitsu watches uzui ruffles your hair and proceeds to do the same to his two wives, feeling that slight tugging in zenitsu’s heart at how you affectionately received the sound pillar’s gesture.

he sullenly stares at your form, a mature version of the child you that he had always been worried of even ever since you two got separated. he wanted to see you, yes but he can’t accept the idea that you were finally in front of him, not even wearing any kind of excitement he harbors.

he should have expected it--with the way he just watched you go.

he should have expected you to be mad at him. after all, it was his fault. he decided for the two of you and didn’t asked for your opinion. it was him who gave up and failed to protect the only person he could call a family at that time.

“aren’t you going to-” inosuke halts from his sentence the moment he felt the grimness in the air surrounding zenitsu. even with the blonde’s closed eyes,the boy could feel it just by the troubled look in his face.

thus, they let it go, just for awhile.

you were silent throughout the battle and zenitsu only realized it when he heard your inner voice.

“breath of voice, first song: bolted melody”

you were not as fast as him but every time you make an attack, it’s as if a cold breeze brushes by his face at the smoothness of your movements, as if you were dancing to the songs of your techniques.

he had never heard of breath of voice before but now, he realized what could have been the reason for your silence, even as you two were little kids. you were meant to be a demon slayer of his breath, meant to train with a pillar and be a successor.

it gave him some kind of relief then.

“breath of beast, eighth fang: pig assault!”

“breath of water, third form: beating tide!”

“breath of lightning, first form: thunderclap-flash: eightfold!”

“breath of voice, fifth sing: silent serenade.” even if you had your lips sealed tight, zenitsu could hear you. and the sound you emitted with your attack was overwhelming to the point that it caused their opponent to lose an ear by the time you had gotten near her.

he marveled upon your attacks but there was one problem; you still haven’t spoken to him.

and when the fight ended, the daybreak showing itself as the demons had vanished into thin air. yet, his attention was still on you, his eyes opening just in time to see the sunlight hit yours, making them brighten up just like how it was from before.

“(y-” you turned to him, the expression on your face vague, as if it was also confused of what to say or do or react.

“niisan.” there was longing in your voice but he dare not speak of it, afraid that it will disappear just like how you did before. now that you’re finally in front of him, alive and well, he could finally feel relieved that the sacrifice he made for the two of you before was worth it.

without another word, he lets you embrace him, even with the broken bones, gashes and wounds in both of your bodies.

he was having a hard time to grasp onto the moment as he also wraps his arms on you, dazed by how much he yearned for this moment to come—when he finally holds you in his arms the way he does before.

so even if there was awkwardness in the air and unresolved tension between siblings, for that single moment, zenitsu was grateful and felt proud of what he had done.

it was all worth it.

“i knew it! you two smells the same!”

both zenitsu and you gave tanjiro a weird look. by now, you four were in the engawa after the said boy had woken up. you and zenitsu still hadn’t spoken to each other but zenitsu could feel that you were slowly opening yourself up to him.

“twins? you both came out at the same time?”

again, you two gave weird glances at inosuke, your reaction only making zenitsu feel comfortable in mimicking you.

“i only came here to inform you that me and kanao will be handling your rehabilitation training.” you say, your voice a music to zenitsu’s ears.

“what?? aren’t you with us during the fight?!” inosuke questioned, earning you confused gazes from the three.

you sigh, sounding incredibly exhausted by just talking to them. zenitsu knows you were selectively mute but apparently, you had grown to be talking more than before. “shinobu-san cleared me already and assigned me with you three.” you narrowed your eyes at zenitsu, as if you were blaming him for taking your precious time.

“apparently, someone slipped out that we’re related.”

zenitsu chuckles, scratching the back of his head, acting guiltily.

you huffed but he could tell that you were not mad at all. a tall figure appears from behind you by the doorway, the sound pillar’s form appearing all of a sudden.

uzui ruffles your head and a smile appears on his lips before his gaze turns to the three. “good luck, kids. (y/n) over here got her strict attitude from me but she can be a softie like suma too.”

zenitsu watches from afar as you pout at the man, turning your head to look up at his towering figure. “hey-”

then, uzui turns to zenitsu, a grin appearing on his face. “don’t believe whatever (y/n) says. they still love you.”

“uzui-” you whine and zenitsu’s face lights up as he suddenly latches onto you, giving you a big embrace that he had been aching to do so. he snuggles to your back and you narrow your eyes at uzui, tanjiro and inosuke for chuckling at your state.

zenitsu had a bigger smile on his face once you relented, letting him stay in that position onto his heart’s content.

it was indeed all worth it.

i honestly felt like i needed a lighter ending since today’s nitsu’s birthday. i’m not an angst sadist at that point yall.

#kny #nnr knr #nnr daydream #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu zenitsu #zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu x reader #zenitsu headcanons #kny zenitsu #zenitsu godspeed yes #female zenitsu

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