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agirlinherhead · 2 years

Text

Hazard Lights.

FICTIONAL Jeb x OFC.

NOW ON AO3!

PART 1/PART 2

18+ NSFW 2.5k

(and let's be honest, this looks like chapter 1)

In which Jeb is a Crier.

Listen. This is Haimgruder (HamFam trademark), a dramatised Hamish faced character placed in a complete canon-divergence from reality.

I'm a queer women of colour, of course I'm not gonna endorse fucking those people irl. Of Course.

If it's not your thing no worries, just keep scrolling. :)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

There's a wrinkle that runs perpendicular across the front of his trouser leg that sits at odds to the smooth line of the crease and regardless of how he sits, shifting his legs this way and that, there's no way that Jeb can present himself as anything other than a mess.

Liddy's still talking, John's still playing catch-up and his boss nods his head in approval from behind his desk. The wrinkle stares back at him clear and strong and unrelenting.

Once back in his office he closes the door behind him, aware that he hasn't digested a thing that has happened in the last two hours. Two days?. Two weeks?. Christ.

There's a stack of paperwork sitting on his desk waiting for his signature, another stack full of telephone messages from people waiting for him to call back and there, tucked between his letter opener and his pen caddy, is the small white envelope John had given him the previous day, the one containing the details for tonight, the invite, to some gathering John's current squeeze Maureen, Mo, is holding for her…birthday? promotion? graduation? who knows.

Maybe a break could do him good.

Why John Dean had chosen him to bring here Jeb will never know. John isn't short on friends; young, fun, cool, friends. Among the sea of young and beautiful people in the room tonight Jeb has never felt lesser in any of those qualities.

From his left Mo's giggle rings out across the room, her lips pulling into a wide almost manic smile as John looks on in adoration and their friends laugh at whatever joke Jeb just missed and it's then that he sees her, Mo's friend, one of the ones he's met before, the one with the eyes. The one with the hips.

Jeb takes a swallow from his glass to still his nerves and chastises himself for his foolishness. He imagines himself a younger man, maybe back in his campaign days, fresh and energetic and driven, maybe back in those days he could have been the kind of man who holds conversations with beautiful women at birthday parties.

Foolishness.

"Hey stranger" she says clinking her glass against his and all he can do is smile in lieu of words that won't form on his lame and heavy tongue. "You… have no idea who I am, do you?"

"Yes, YES!.. eh, sorry, yes, Mo's friend from… from the thing."

"Mhm" she takes a small sip of her drink before letting her eyes roam the room "The Thing". She looks almost offended.

"No," he tries again, "of course I remember you from the theatre, the interpretive performance thing."

"Oh god" she snorts "That was terrible! I mean what the fuck even was that."

Jeb laughs in agreement "I hear it's all the rage in Europe"

"Jesus, Europe can keep it thanks." she shakes her head finally smiling up at him.

He remembers it well, another one of Mo's things that she dragged John to who had in turn, as it seems has become routine, dragged Jeb along too. He remembers the performance, all flailing arms and wails, but more than that he remembers the dress. Long and tight and a baby blue, cut high and modest at the front and low and not at the back, low enough to distract Jeb all evening, the bare expanse of her shoulders and obvious lack of brassiere drawing his attention away from any stage production, interpretive or not.

Tonight's dress isn't blue, it certainly isn't long either showing far more thigh than he's sure polite society expects so before his gaze lingers too long and before he says something stupid he asks her if she'd like to join him for another drink and for some reason he can't quite fathom she says yes.

As far as nights go this hasn't at all been the worst.

Jeb is…fun? More fun than she'd expected anyway. He has that knack that some people have of making sarcasm endearing, a wry humour that some might not recognise at first as humour at all, a clever wit, jokes hidden in truths and plain sight delivered with a boyish stuttering charm, disarming and warm.

Then she finds that once he hits upon a topic he's interested in, off he goes. He tells her about geology, sedimentation and then apropos of nothing at all he gushes about a trip he took to a pineapple maze and at the centre? a giant pineapple design constructed completely of actual pineapples! He's like a kid at Christmas. If it weren't for the ring on his finger she'd kiss him.

After that she mingles some more and leaves Jeb to his own devices; making small talk, nodding politely, spare wheeling next to John and Mo far more than he'd like. It's at the very end of the night that she finds him again, to his surprise making a direct path across the floor toward him.

"So" she says "I'm about to grab a cab home but I thought I'd check first to see if there were any gentlemen left who would offer me a ride, we are kind of out of the way here after all."

Jeb nods and smiles politely, a theme for the evening, before "Oh! Oh, yes, yes of course."

Her smile widens and she laces her arm through his "Lucky me".

From across the room Jeb catches sight of John grinning toward him raising his eyebrows and motioning with a nod toward the companion on his arm. Jeb feels his cheeks flush. John raises his glass toward him as if toasting a victory.

Foolishness.

Awkward. That's how the ride so far could be categorised. Whatever place Mo used this time is rural enough that there's not a lot to take interest in through the window, trees and grass and not a lot else. He cracks a couple of self-deprecating quips that don't land then turns on the radio and hums along to the kind of songs her dad still listens to riding to the store in his station wagon. Easy listening dad-rock. Songs about highways. OK.

"So does John bring you everywhere?" She wants to know more, dig a little deeper just to see what's there. She's seen a glimpse and it's intriguing if nothing else.

"It seems so, he's irritating like that."

"Hmm. And Mrs Magruder? She stays home? Children I presume?" dig, dig, dig.

His hands shift at the top of the steering wheel rolling his grip forward and back.

"Yeah. She, ah,… she stays home."

"Well I'll make sure to get you back to her quickly."

There's silence between them for a while, Jebs' hands worrying at the wheel and he doesn't take his eyes away from the road when he finally says "I'm not actually staying at the house at the minute, I'm in a hotel, temporarily of course."

Oh.

"Oh, that.. must be hard. How long?"

"About four months."

Temporarily MY ASS.

"Well." She huffs out, because what do you say to that? Then with a positive smile adds, just for good measure, "I'm sure you'll be moving back home in no time."

"I'm not sure the 32 year old tennis coach who lives in my house and sleeps with my wife would like it much." he says with a stretched smile but ouch, the sting of it is written all over his face.

Oh. Well in that case.

She lays her hand just above his knee and squeezes lightly "I'm sorry". He inhales. She lets her hand linger. "I can't imagine how hard that must be for you."

Her hand runs higher, delicate fingers and painted nails dipping in between his legs to trace the seam of his trousers at the inside of his thigh. His knuckles turn white at the wheel and his brows practically disappear into his hair line but he doesn't say a word.

He's dreaming. He's dreaming. There's no way she's coming on to him right? She's just being supportive, she's kind. Her hand traces higher, his cock twitches.

Foolishness.

"It must be hard, working all day with that big important job that you have and no one to come home to. No-one to take care of you." Her voice is a little husky, her fingers a little probing.

Jeb just nods.

"Is it hard for you Jeb? Is it hard?"

"Yeah, it's ah.. it's it's…" her fingers trace the seam just below the zip "What…what are you.. eh.." she flattens her hand against him and palms his stiffening cock through his pants "OH! ha! ok…ok".

"Jeb? Would you like to pull over?"

"Yep. yes, yes…" He nods frantically and moves immediately to cross lanes and make it to the side of the road, nearly taking out the red sedan approaching from his right.

The tires kick up clouds of dry dust as he pulls to an abrupt stop on the little patch of dirt at the side of the road, up as close to the bushes and trees as he can get and he's incredibly glad that the road they're travelling is lined with fields rather than buildings and just isolated enough that there's no one to see her hands work skillfully to unbuckle his belt or to witness the way he pushes his back up into his seat and his hips forward when she slides down his zipper.

He leans forward and moves to reach out for her but she just shifts round to face him a little more and pushes him back again.

"Just sit back, let me take care of you."

Oh, oh god.

When she untucks his shirt from his bright white briefs and snakes her hand beneath the elastic of the waistband Jeb actually squeaks, by the time she takes him firmly in her grasp and administers the first few experimental strokes there's no sound from him at all other than his ragged stuttering gasps and he looks almost afraid.

"You OK there? Do you want me to stop?" Judging from his reactions it's been a while and she wonders how long it has been since anyone touched him in this way? Anyone other than himself.

"Heavens no, don't stop, please don't stop." It's the most complete sentence he's said in a while so she moves her hands a little faster and then with little warning leans forward and drags her tongue flat against the tip of his cock causing him to yelp in surprise and when she slides him between her lips he realises oh god, she's going to use her mouth.

He hasn't done this in… he can't even remember, can't even think straight about anything other than the wet warmth of her mouth, her tongue, how she's fucking him with her rouge stained lips. It's not something his wife had ever been in favour of; Oral sex is up there on the list of forbidden things Jesus wouldn't approve of.

"Oh god, you don't have to do that" It's too much, too generous. "Wait did… did John put you up to this?"

The suction of the 'pop' when she pulls him from her mouth almost ends him then and there and he realises it's not just his dick, now strained and untouched, that's weeping; he can feel water pooling on his eyelashes. What a mess.

"What?, why would John…?" She sighs and makes a show of running her tongue slowly along her plump top lip fully aware of the way his eyes track the movement. "You taste devine Jeb, I'd like to taste more of you. I'd really like to taste your come while you fuck my mouth. Would you like that Jeb?" She leans in closer and she can see the red taillights of passing cars reflecting in the glassiness of his eyes and the tears that are now escaping in thick tracks down his cheeks. "Would you like to come in my mouth Jeb?".

He gulps so hard he nearly chokes "Yes, yes, please please please.." she waits just a beat to see if she can string another 'please' out of him and she can, the final one slipping out between trembling lips as barely a whimper.

"Good boy, Jeb."

She teases the tip of his cock with little flicks of her tongue just for a couple of completely agonising seconds then leans down and takes the full length of him in her mouth all at once. Like the rest of him he's as long and big as she hoped he would be and she plans to take full advantage of that at a later time when they have more room, for now she'll savour the weight of him on her tongue. She hollows her cheeks as she drags her lips up his length before sinking back down and she only repeats the motion twice, then again, when she feels the muscles of his thighs start to tremble beneath her.

"Oh god I'm sorry, I'm gonna… Oh god… too soon, ah.." Whines and sobs. Delicious whimpers.

His thigh muscles tense, his hips buck and his hand finds the back of her head pushing her as far down as he can manage until she can feel the warm ropes of come lash out against the back of her throat, Jebs desperate muffled apologies mingled with his high pitched keen ringing in her ears as she gags where he holds her in place.

When he releases her she raises her face to his and only then, when his eyes are still focused enough to follow the bob of her throat, does she swallow.

Flopping back in her seat she lets out a laugh Jeb doesn't hear, "What a night, huh?"

He doesn't respond and when she looks over she finds his glazed eyes staring ahead into the road, hands once again gripping the top of the steering wheel arms stiff and straight in front of him, his cock lying slowly softening against his open pants and his face? He looks like he's just witnessed a car crash.

Jesus.

Leaning over she fishes around in his jacket pocket to retrieve the pack of cigarettes she knows he stashed there and winds down the window before lighting one between her lips, taking a long hard drag, then holding it out toward him. "Hey, here."

He turns toward her ignoring the cigarette and asking almost absently "So how did I taste?"

"Great, you tasted great Jeb."

"I.. I did?" His eyes are still blank, wide and dazed, and his eyelids flutter rapidly.

"Yeah, so great you win a prize." She takes another drag of the cigarette blowing long plumes of smoke out of the window and away into the night.

"I.. I do?" He looks so confused, he'll come round in a minute or two.

"Yeah, You get to drive me back to this hotel room of yours."

Read more on AO3

#THE FIC FOLKS #Jeb x OFC #gaslit #the purely fictional depiction of #jeb magruder #with the face of #hamish linklater

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years

Note

I love your writing so much!! If you’re still taking requests, could you do 9 with Obi-Wan and Anakin?

Thank you!! <3 And of course! I hope you enjoy.

From this various prompts list.

Set after The Wrong Jedi arc. And it’s way... way longer than I meant it to be. Whoops. I told myself, make this one short. Actually a prompt fill. And then I laughed at myself and wrote a fic and I don’t know exactly how long it is because I was too scared to look at the word count.

I tagged it as long post so I hope those of you who aren’t in the mood for my rambling bs are as to skip it!

I will add a reading cut when I get my hands on a laptop.

When Skywalker stormed into the training bay, his fists clenched by his sides, troopers scattered out of his way like silver-fish before a Bloodfin.

Even without Force-sensitivity, it was impossible to miss the potent fury rolling off the young General in waves, almost visible on the air, scalding anyone who got too near. His eyes glided right over the Clones, however, and fixed on a single figure standing alone on a mat, performing a slow exercise.

Anakin strode over to the edge of the mat and stamped his foot on the edge, twisting it a few inches just as the other man’s foot came back down from a stretch. He slipped. At the last second he caught himself, turning on the spot to regain his balance.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan spoke calmly, as if nothing had just happened. As if his friend wasn’t glaring at him with rage and disdain.

“A duel,” said Anakin, in a tone that brokered no argument.

General Kenobi’s face tightened slightly. But he nodded graciously and summoned his lightsaber to his hands, drawing backwards towards the opposite wall and raising his blue blade in a low Soresu opening.

Skywalker waited only half a second before launching himself at the other man in a blur of blue light and red-hot anger.

Cody, watching from the wall, clasped his hands behind his back as he watched the two Jedi spar at bewildering speeds.

Dizzying swirls of colliding blue light. Last-moment maneuvers, a blade hot as a sun missing moving limbs by inches. Skywalker always on the offensive. Kenobi always giving ground.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened slightly as his entire body trembled under the weight of a blow that could have removed his head from his shoulders had he not blocked it; his own serenity seemed to shrink in the face of Anakin’s fire and desperation.

There was a blur of motion, and Skywalker stood triumphant as Kenobi crashed to the floor with the younger man’s saber an inch from his chest.

Obi-Wan stared up at his friend. “Solah,” he whispered.

For a moment more, the scene hung suspended. The lightsaber burning close, too close, to Obi-Wan’s vulnerable body, Anakin looming over him with anger in his eyes.

Then Anakin turned and stalked out of the room, leaving his former Master on the floor with a faint scorch mark on his pale tunics.

“Sir.” Cody strode over to his General immediately and helped him to his feet, watching him wince, feeling a surge of helpless anger at the nagging realization that he had never anticipated a time when his General would be hurting because of Skywalker. “Sir.”

“Cody,” the Jedi said wearily. “I need to get up to the bridge.”

“You need to see Hoop,” said Cody, referring to the 212th’s medic.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “No. We’re still two days out through hyperspace and we need to find a way to make contact with the ground troops on Ryloth before we go barging in.”

Cody clenched his jaw but assented, knowing that there was no dissuading his General, not now. He had just one more thing to say.

“General.” He waited until Kenobi looked at him. “You threw that fight.”

Obi-Wan inhaled slowly, a look of what his Commander recognized as pain — grief — flickering behind his blue eyes. “Anakin needed the win,” he said quietly.

The second time Anakin Skywalker stormed into the training bay, everyone moved aside to watch even before Obi-Wan had turned around to greet his former apprentice.

Men from the 501st and the 212th, thrown together on this joint mission as if to both aggravate and soothe the hurt of Ahsoka’s departure, stood side by side and watched as their Generals flung themselves into the fight as if lives depended on it.

As Kenobi let Skywalker take the offensive. As he let Skywalker come to the edge of victory again and again and then held him off at the last second.

As Anakin’s rage grew, as he began to resent Obi-Wan for dragging the battle out and denying Anakin the victory he craved and deserved. Holding him back as always.

As for the second time Kenobi threw the fight in a way that Anakin didn’t notice.

Letting him walk off with his rage dispersed for awhile, the relieved and triumphant victor, while the bruised and shaken loser climbed to his feet and went back to work with an air of gravity around him. As if Obi-Wan had absorbed the weight of his friend’s anger and carried it like a shroud.

Maybe he did.

The third time Anakin confronted Obi-Wan, he won by punching Obi-Wan in the face.

The fourth time Anakin confronted Obi-Wan, he won by burning his leg from hip to ankle.

The sixth time Anakin confronted Obi-Wan, he won by pressing his foot down on the other man’s throat almost to the point of unconsciousness.

The eighth time, he won by knocking Obi-Wan’s lightsaber from his hands and driving him back against a wall with his own saber at Obi-Wan’s neck.

“You have to stop,” Hoop said.

Obi-Wan shook his head. “He... needs this.” A hiss escaped his lips as the medic dabbed bacta along the abrasion above his eye, the bacta he had tried to say he didn’t need.

“He needs a therapist and an ass kicking,” retorted Hoop, disregarding standard respect. He didn’t care about protocol in general, and certainly not when his General turned up every other day — usually dragged in by Cody — with bruises and cuts and strained muscles.

Obi-Wan only shook his head again.

Cody, Rex, Hoop, and many of the others had hoped that the battles on Ryloth would serve as a good outlet for General Skywalker.

They did.

But it wasn’t enough.

Fighting what felt like a futile war for the planet’s freedom, being back on Ryloth yet again, and the gaping hole in the 501st where Ahsoka had once stood only seemed to drive Skywalker’s pain upwards. And for Anakin, all emotions led to rage, eventually.

He could not stand the depths of his emotions, the dark days, the low times. If he was not happy, he chose rage over sorrow.

And there was so much sorrow.

There was a two-day reprieve after the campaign on Ryloth. Temporary victory had been purchased yet again with the blood of the natives and the GAR, and the 501st and 212th departed for another campaign halfway across the galaxy at once.

And for two days there was time to rest and think.

And then Anakin stalked into the training bay again. Not finding Obi-Wan, he waited for him, and as soon as the older Jedi entered the room, raised his lightsaber in an Ataru salute.

The thirteenth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, they dueled for over three hours, and both fell exhausted to the ground.

The nineteenth time, Anakin left Obi-Wan with a leg broken in two places. Cody had to physically restrain Hoop — and himself, frankly — from jumping General Skywalker and throttling him.

The twenty-eighth time, Obi-Wan’s guard slipped, and Anakin’s saber drove straight through Obi-Wan’s thigh. A mirror image of the wound Dooku had inflicted on his other leg, a lifetime ago it seemed, back when they had been on the same side.

Were they still?

Anakin’s face had dropped with shock at the injury, and before any of the men could react, he had picked Obi-Wan up in his arms and rushed him to the med bay.

And then the Council called to speak with Kenobi privately, and Anakin’s rage and hurt against them for their role in handing his Padawan over to the authorities rose up again like a serpent reading to strike.

The thirtieth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, he fought with his left hand, as if taunting his Master that he was still superior.

The thirty-sixth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, the older Jedi fought back, taking the offensive just long enough that it seemed he would be victorious — and then something in Anakin’s face broke. Grief and dismay were revealed in the cracks of his wrath, and Obi-Wan retreated again, and then fell.

The fortieth time Anakin challenged Obi-Wan, he was met with silence.

Anakin stared, his saber already lit in his hands, as Obi-Wan stood up slowly from where he had been meditating.

He dragged himself to his feet like a man on the verge of collapse, but he was as irritatingly graceful as ever, composed, serene. Anakin’s hands tightened on his weapon.

“Well?” he prompted.

Obi-Wan said nothing.

He looked down at the floor, and some of his burnished, ruddy hair fell over his eyes, concealing his face from view. Anakin waited impatiently. A strange feeling rose inside him, something nauseous and uncertain, and he did not want to know what it was.

“Well?” he demanded more aggressively.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and looked up at him.

And Anakin was struck by how small his Master looked.

Shorter than him by a few inches, yes, but somehow that larger-than-life quality that hung about the man had fallen away. He looked tired. Beaten, humbled, hurt — like a child, like a man driven to the edge and then over it without anyone pausing to take notice of his fall.

His blue eyes were shattered by unshed tears.

Anakin recoiled.

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan croaked. His voice was tight as a wire, strained with the effort of holding back tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Anakin. I... I’m too tired to be your emotional punching bag today.”

“Obi-Wan—” said Anakin, not even knowing what he was going to say, and stopped there.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan repeated. And he sounded it. Looked it. Was dripping remorse into the air like a sky about to storm. “Please. If this is what you need, I can keep doing it, but I just need today. I need a day to breathe. And — and if you’re —”

A tear trickled down over one cheek and into his beard. Then another.

Anakin was watching with his expression frozen between anger and shock.

Cody leaned forward as if about to spring. Rex’s hand settled on his shoulder.

“If you just need more time, I’ll give it to you,” Obi-Wan whispered. “But if you’re angry enough to strike me down unarmed... do it. I don’t — I don’t want — I can’t —”

Cody jolted under Rex’s grip.

And still, Anakin’s saber blazed in his hands, casting Obi-Wan in blue light, reflected in his shining eyes.

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan said helplessly.

Anakin hesitated.

Conflicting emotions ran across his face one after the other, grief chasing pain chasing anger chasing despair chasing rage, like shadows passing over deeper waters.

He raised his saber a little higher.

#and that there is an ambiguous ending #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #star wars #my writing #prompt fill #commander cody #captain rex #501st battalion #212th attack battalion #ahsoka tano #the wrong jedi #Anakin has issues #obi wan has issues #someone hug them #long post #very long post #very very long post

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that-gt-and-vore-stuffs · 3 years

Text

Experiment 05SB

Alternatively titled “I’m sorry 2B don’t hate me please”

I hath given in to the M4dc0m brain rot at the cost of me now having written a 7k+ word fic because I’m not confident enough in my art skills to draw it at the moment. Here we go!

Oh, there’s also implied fatal in this (it’s of unnamed characters, plus this is M4dc0m, but I’ve gotta say it. I guess you could take it as reformation if you really wanted to.). Mentions of blood I guess?

As always, Vore under the cut :)

“Ey 2b? You there?” Deimos’s voice crackled to life through the plastic earpiece currently jammed into his left ear, yanking the hacker and unofficial ‘team medic’ as he was called once (much to his own confusion. Sure, he knew basic medical but by no means was he any sort of doctor) back into reality. A brief moment passed in the silence of his room, more often called ‘the lab’, of their base before everything came crashing back at once. Deimos, Sanford, and Hank were out raiding a A.A.H.W warehouse at his instruction. Meaning he was alone in their base, also known as a breaking down appartement they had taken shelter in. It had electricity and provided shelter from the harsh hell scape that had once been the state of Nevada. A dark red sunless sky overhead, vegetation and any ecosystems completely wiped out from what they’d seen, bandits and zeds equally ready to eat the nearest person if it meant living another day, the Agency hunting you down if they thought you’d possibly be working against them or with the infamous Hank J. Wimbleton, and having little to no essential resources for days at a time to top it all off like some twisted cherry on this sick cake. Home sweet fucking home.

“Doc? Helllloooo?” Shit, right. Deimos.

“Sorry, I’m here. What is it Deimos?”

“And the medic lives!” The small cheer was accompanied by laughter from the smallest member of the team. Jebus, how was he able to joke in even the most dire situations?

“Just get to the point, chucklehead.” 2b could hear Sanford add in over the static, the man’s laughter just barely making it to tired ears.

“Right right, sorry man. Anyway, if we wanted to get food on the way back would you say no?” Pardon? There was no way he was hearing that right. There were several reasons why he couldn’t be hearing that right. A. food wasn’t by any means the easiest thing to come by in this hellhole, B. restaurants weren’t really a common thing anymore so those were out of the picture, and C. there’s no way they could p- actually, scratch that last one. Robbing a corpse wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that those three had done. Not by a long shot. Still though, how was he supposed to respond to that request?

“…what?” Apparently by asking the first word on his mind.

“We saw that one hotdog vendor on the way here and we’re all starving. Can we or can we not get hotdogs on the way back?” Oh. That’s what Deimos ment. How on earth had that hotdog vendor not been killed yet?

“Is this a genuine ‘we’ or is it a ‘me’, Deimos?” That seemed like a more fair and answerable question.

“Hey I-!”

“It’s a genuine ‘we’ Doc,” Sanford’s voice chimed in. By the cursing in the background 2b could imagine that he had flipped up Deimos’s mic to temporarily mute him in the realm of their earpieces. “Pretty sure one of our stomachs gave us away to the last group of agents we had to take out. Not gonna point fingers but I’m pretty sure it was Hank- Ack! I’m just saying!”

“Thought we weren’t pointing fingers.” There was the third voice. Rough from years of fighting yet still all too recognizable as Hank. The same Hank J. Wimbleton on the wanted posters that scattered the walls of almost every nearby building, wanted dead by the Auditor and his whole agency. He must’ve smacked Sanford for his comment. Well at least he didn’t do worse, whether on purpose or accident.

“We aren’t. Now Cmon Doc, you never answered my question.” Hearing the other hacker’s voice ask for an answer again 2b sighed. Always eager, wasn’t he? How the man had seemingly endless energy on missions would forever remain a mystery to him, Jebus be damned.

“I don’t really care what you do on the way back so long as you all come back in one piece and with the stuff I sent you there for. Understood?”

“Aye aye, Captain Doc! Over and out!” And there they went. The earpiece went dead, leaving 2b on his own once again once he flicked up his own mic. Back to silence. Sweet sweet silence. It wasn’t often they got that in their shared apartment of a base. Someone was always awake, someone was always saying something. It was never really quiet unless you were lucky enough to be the only one awake. 2BDamned had seen plenty of those rare times, if only because he overworked himself and didn’t sleep. So maybe it was one of his less than desirable qualities, when living in a hellscape being ten steps ahead of the agency trying to kill you is always good. He had to keep that up, on top of keeping the others alive and well.

And then there was his little experiment. That also was taking a toll on how little he slept. Not all that long ago the trio had returned from a mission with the data he had requested and more. Specifically a duffel bag full of seemingly shrunken grunts and two only slightly bigger shrunken MAGs. Pft, how funny it was to say that. A shrunken MAG. Hell, he wouldn’t believe it if you told him with no proof. The idea seemed insane. Oh but it wasn't. Not by a long shot if the cages sitting on one of his tables said anything. Normally he’d call such a thing like keeping people in cages inhumane, not that there were many humane things in this hellhole to begin with. He’d expect keeping them in cages that probably used to be for pets to be a move pulled by the Agency, not himself, however he had to make do with what they could find and had access to. Also known as: not much at all. He wanted to study them after all. Letting them free was just not an option.

Now that probably sounds bad, studying living beings like himself, but one couldn’t blame 2b when you considered his situation (at least he hopes one couldn’t). Somehow the Agency found a way to shrink living beings. That’s power that could be used against him and the others to make everything turn for the worst, something which he wanted to avoid at all costs. However, if one of his teammates or himself were to be shrunken on a mission it would be possibly lifesaving to know how to reverse the effects. Plus, having the power to shrink enemies on their side could certainly prove useful. All that being said, he needed these few alive in order to try and figure out what caused them to be how they were. Hence the repurposed, beat up pet cages. Two of them to be exact. One held the grunts and the other for the two MAG agents. None of them had killed each other yet, so that was nice. A few simple experiments and a dissection of a grunt that had been dead upon arrival to him proved that they still functioned as they would if they were their normal size. Just on a smaller scale. He had sent Hank, Deimos, and Sanford out for supplies today, yes, though if they found any information regarding the shrinking of their little ‘guests’ then they were to bring it to him. With no information on that though, he had to continue his other work. Tired eyes met the screen through red goggles. Moments later his head found itself cushioned in the crook of one of his arms.

“What the hell.” 2b grumbled, a fresh headache slowly starting to pound against the inside of his skull. What the hell was up with him? He should be fine. This was only his second day without proper ‘longer-then-15-minutes’ sleep. He’d gone longer before, he should be able to function. Why was the screen giving him such a headache now of all times? He needed to get stuff done. He needed to finish up this…this……what was he working on again? Hold on, no, he should remember. This shouldn’t be slipping his mind like it is. Maybe if he just thought back a few minutes. It would come back to him, right?

“Ok right before Deimos called, what was I doing?” 2b thought out loud to himself, trying his hardest to recall what had happened prior to the call from his allies. ”I was sitting here…then Deimos called in. Wait, no. Go back. From the top. Since…however long ago I’ve been sitting here, working on…what was I working on before Deimos asked about getting food? I sent them on the raid, didn’t eat, got to work and- no. That’s not it. Why can’t I just-“

Gggnnnnnnrrrr…

Oh well fuck him. That’s why he couldn’t focus. 2b groaned, not bothering to hide the noise as of now. He was alone, no one would hear him or tease him. Unless you would count the shrunken men in the cages, however it wasn’t likely they’d say anything. When you’re the size of a rat, spare the MAGs who were more rabbit sized, to your captor pissing them off seemed like the worst thing one could do. Clearly the hacker wasn’t at all in the mood to deal with teasing, so their mouths remained shut. That left 2b alone to deal with his complaining stomach, a feat which proved easier said than done when one was going off a day and a half without properly sleeping. He couldn’t even remember the last time he ate something. It was all just fuzzing together at this point.

Pushing himself off his desk 2b flopped back into the worn chair he’d been sitting in for God knows how long. Relaxing into the backrest was certainly more comfortable than being hunched over a laptop screen typing away like he had been for the past day or two. A hand fell to rest over his stomach while the other removed his goggles. Those were not helping the blooming headache. A low growl from his stomach drew a small hiss through his teeth, the sound being accompanied by a familiar empty cramping.

“Oh you can shut up.” He grumbled at the organ half heartedly, “It’s not like I can eat anything right now. There’s a reason I sent Hank and the others out.” His stomach growled back, the empty sound ringing in the hacker’s ears. He needed to eat, that was undeniable. The problem was getting something to eat. He had few options, none of which he particularly liked. Option 1. going out to look for something even slightly edible on his own, option 2. wait and hope the others found and brought back food, or option 3. contact the others through his headset and ask them to get him something on the way back. The first option was clearly undesirable on its own and the other two weren’t much better. Sure, asking them to grab something for him would probably be easiest and most logical, however he was almost certain that they didn’t want to hear that out of the blue in the middle of a fight. That and he didn’t want to deal with any teasing that might come along with asking. He wasn’t about to take that chance when he had things to do. He couldn’t remember those things at the moment, sure, but they were still things he had to do! So asking was not an available option at the moment. That left waiting and hoping for the best.

Rrrrrrrnnngggggg….

“I know. I don’t like the idea either.” 2b sighed as he spun around in his chair, gently patting his stomach. He needed to get out of his chair, even if it was just a walk around his room. He needed something after a day and a half straight of sitting there hunched over staring at a screen. Maybe it’d help with the headache if he was lucky. Probably wouldn’t but hey a man could dream. With a small grunt of effort the hacker found himself on his feet, his balance wobbling and legs feeling like brittle pasta beneath him. Ah, that's what I wanted to do earlier. Go figure taking breaks gets ignored by my brain. “However, I do believe it’ll end with the best result. I’m sure they’ll be home soon anyway.”

They wouldn’t. That was a lie, to himself and to his stomach alike. He likely had a few more hours alone, maybe two at least. The A.A.H.W warehouse he’d sent them to was big and if you account for fighting delays and them stopping on the way back then the chance of them being back in the next two hours would be some sort of miracle. By the way his stomach reacted every time he brushed over the thought that the trio was getting food on the way back then he wasn’t going to be looking so hot by the time they arrived back. Oh he was going to get the short end of the stick no matter what he did, wasn’t he? Talk about luck. 2b sighed, running a hand up and through his hair as he walked along one of the walls of his small room. His stomach clearly wasn’t shutting up any time soon so the next best course of action would be to ignore it. Maybe that would help him wait it out. What could he focus on? There was work, he could clean up a little bit maybe, or he could focus on the rattling coming from the cages and-

Hold on.

That most certainly wasn’t right. 2b cocked an eyebrow, crossing the room to where the three cages were placed. Quite the interesting scene was playing out before him. From what he could see a few of the shrunken grunts were teaming up to try and break out of the cages. This wasn’t their first little escape attempt, no, but it interested him enough as he stood there watching and attempting to grab his tablet at the same time. Eventually he had succeeded, opening up a new document to scribble down a few notes.

Title: Log 073SB

Time: 6:34 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: Grunts working together to attempt escape. MAG agent seems to be attempting to cause a distraction by rattling the wall of the cage. Or perhaps they just want out. Very annoying either way. None seem bothered by my presence.

Satisfied with his little note, 2b closed the tablet and set it down on the counter next to one of the cages. Whether it was him being too rough with setting the tablet down or the low grumble from his stomach that startled the cage of grunts was up for debate, but currently he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Right now he needed to have a chat with the little troublemakers. Without hesitation the unofficial medic reached forward, opening the little hinged door located on top of the cage with ease compared to what the grunts inside were attempting before. He didn’t think twice before he reached in and grabbed the two topmost grunts from the pile of attempted escapees before retracting his hand, repeating the process with his other hand, and finally closing the cage. Hands now full, each holding two fighting bodies, the hacker sighed.

“Escape huh? How many times have you already tried that and it didn’t work?” 2b asked, a less than impressed tone lacing his voice. Sure, he needed a distraction from his stomach but he didn’t want to have to deal with escape attempts left and right for the next however long. “What made you think it’d go any different this time?”

There was a moment of silence before a soft voice spoke up, one that clearly hadn’t been used recently. One of the grunts in his left hand. “W-we figured i-if we actually tried and w-worked together then maybe we’d b-be able to manage a successful…e-escape…”

“Really now? Interesting.” 2b mumbled, looking over the grunt in his hand. They were all so small. You’d think he’d have gotten used to their size by now but every time he held one it seemed to slap him in the face. Offing them if they got too rowdy wouldn’t be hard at all. Wouldn’t need to use anything to begin with. How crazy it was. “Though I’m not sure I can let this slide as I have with previous instances.”

“W-what?” His response seemed to temporarily stun the four in his hands, most likely because of how it was different from his previous comments on their attempted escapes. A shiver passed over them like a wave while the hacker only nodded.

“Your previous attempts at escape. While I can understand why one would try I’ve made it quite clear that successful escapes won’t be happening nor tolerated, correct? I need to prove my point here because you all clearly don’t understand words.” He shifted on his feet slightly, a new question wracking his brain. What could he do to show he wasn’t going to deal with constant escape attempts? It had to be something that stuck, seeing as they clearly didn’t understand his earlier comments about escape not being tolerated. Only a few moments of silence passed before his lips were moving again. “You four are going somewhere else. A stronger holding space. If any of the others try anything they’ll join you. Simple, yet effective.” Or it would be if he knew exactly where he planned to stick these four. What did he have that could serve as a stronger cell for them? The cages were already pretty secure in terms of what he could work with. He just needed something stronger, close to him, hard to escape, and threatening that held a sense of danger with it. But what could that be? His eyes darted around the makeshift lab, trying to find something.

Grrrrroowwwllll…

2b’s eyes slowly scanned down from his shaking captives to his stomach. For a moment he just stared, eyes lacking any readable emotion. Well now that was certainly an option. It fit his criteria. Almost too well. Strong, hard to escape, close to him, and it held a sense of danger. Under his mask his torn and scared lips quirked up into a little smirk. “Mmhm. That’ll do quite nicely, in fact~”

The final moments of peace were shattered as the meaning of his words collided with his captives like a well aimed punch to the gut. Hearts sunk to their feet like rocks in water, despair rearing it’s head in their struggles. Those fortunate enough to remain in the cages simply watched with a muted horror as the four bodies were tossed onto the table and held down with little to no effort. The hacker wasted no time removing the mask and bandages that usually covered his mouth, tossing the fabrics haphazardly beside his discarded tablet. Despite the word fresh being the last thing he’d use to describe the Nevada air, 2b knew he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice to just breathe the air in alone and not through the layers of fabric like he often did. With the temporary roadblock now gone his eyes drifted downward to the bodies pinned beneath his hand.

“Well, I believe that eliminates any preventable issues we could encounter here.” He hummed softly, plucking the grunt who was covered by his hand the least up into the air. It certainly was odd to watch the little body squirm and fight against him, all attacks on the two fingers holding it proving futile. Their only hope seemed to be 2b letting them go, something which proved less and less likely the longer they studied the look in the hackers eyes. It wasn’t a look one ever wanted to find themself on the receiving end of. The sight of sharp teeth, glimmering with saliva through grinning lips, certainly did not help to lower the grunt’s heart rate at all. 2b simply clicked his tongue. “Meaning stalling time is up. Stay still, won’t you?”

The grunt did not, in fact, stay still. It was impossible to do so as far as they knew when you had a spit soaked tongue dragging up every inch of your front, sharp daggers of teeth only millimeters from their face. A deafening silence washed over the others, only being broken by a small pleased hum from their normal sized captor.

“Not bad…” the man mumbled, dragging his tongue up the squirming grunt yet again. A small voice in the back of his mind, his voice of reason, yelled out the obvious loud and clear to him plenty of times: this was wrong. It wasn’t right to be doing what he was about to do. This was stooping down to the bandits level, something he never intended to do unless absolutely necessary. He shouldn’t be enjoying the taste of another living being like this. And yet…here he was. Ignoring any logic and reason in his mind to proceed with this. Thank goodness he was alone. 2b didn’t even want to think about what the others might say if they were to see him how he was now. Shaking his head softly he shoved away the thought, opening his jaw as far as the joint and scarred tissue that made up his cheeks would allow. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned with how easily the small body slipped into his mouth.

Despite their best efforts to squirm free of their new confinement, the slippery surroundings of the unofficial doctor’s maw proved to have horrible traction. Saliva dropped onto the unfortunate grunt’s head from above while they desperately tried to crawl out of the dark cavern. Feet scrambled on the soaked surface of their predator’s tongue as the muscle moved and flipped them around as if they were some piece of candy, all while their hands desperately tried to keep as little of them between the axe like teeth. One bite and they were done for, a terrifying thought. Through it all only three sounds were ever heard from those lucky enough to not be in the current grunt’s position. The sickening sounds of soaked struggle, terrified yelps from the grunt stuck within 2b’s jaws, and the occasional hum from the man himself. The torture, as those watching from the cage would describe it, seemed to continue for hours and hours on end.

Glk

Glp~

Until it all stopped with two simple swallows and a collective gasp of horror from those watching. The relaxed posture of the man they all watched failed to help their situation.

“H….huhh…that was..” the uncertified medic breathed, breaking the silence. His free hand lazily felt down his throat, tracing where he could feel the squirming body slip further down by the second. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that the less angry sounding gurgle from the man’s stomach signaled the end of the unfortunate grunt’s descent. With eyes widened just beyond his natural look 2b gently pressed his stomach. How interesting it was, as morbid as it might sound, to feel something squirming around inside the organ. Before he could even stop to consider a better way to word his thoughts, he finished his sentence. Just not in the way the grunts wanted to hear. “…incredibly easy.”

The last thing any of the remaining grunts wanted to see was those eyes scan up slowly before locking on them as if they were some sort of dessert. The clearly out of place smile on the man’s face didn’t help the feeling of impending doom either. If anything it only made it worse as a rough hand plucked another grunt from the selected three that had remained under his hand. Down, beneath his newfound curiosity and odd urge to continue what he was doing, 2b knew he should have been more concerned about how easy this was coming to him. No sane person would take so calmly to swallowing living beings, especially not of his own kind. Yet here he was, smirking as he licked over his scarred lips with cold eyes locked onto the small shaking body like a cat would after spotting a mouse. Looking at their sizes in comparison to one another? The simile was scarily accurate. Through his whole little mental debate the hacker found it all too easy to slip the small body into his mouth, licking it over to draw out as much of that strangely addicting taste before slowly beginning to nudge it back. Just bit by bit until it was far enough.

Glrk

Grk~

“Two down…haahhh…two to go…” the hacker sighed as he traced the lump down his throat. There was a waiting period once more but it didn’t last long before the shiver inducing gurgle signified where the poor soul had ended up. How the man hadn’t gotten sick yet was beyond the understanding of those who witnessed the event and even the man himself. Surely he should feel at least a little nauseous with two rat sized bodies squirming within his stomach. Nausea and fullness were the two sensations he had expected by now and yet neither had shown their face yet. Deep within his mind, from an area he didn’t even know existed until it spoke, a voice urged him to test his limits. 2b had shaken that idea off nearly immediately. As….enticing as that idea was, he still needed a few of the shrunken grunts alive and well to continue his attempts to recreate and reverse however the Agency had shrunken them before. Four however….well that wasn’t the biggest loss in the world if something happened to go wrong. Leaning a little more heavily over the table he grabbed one of the last two grunts, shoving the struggling body into his mouth head first. Quite the sight it was to watch flailing legs be slurped into someone’s mouth like nothing more than wet noodles. Interesting and horrifying.

Glp

Glrk~

Though compared to seeing someone who had been beside you ten minutes ago disappear down your captor’s throat as nothing more than a barely visible lump would top it in the scarring scale. Nothing could compare to that sight. Good god was it terrifying. The reality that escape was impossible was all but cemented into the remaining grunts' brains now, as that had been what had gotten their companions into this situation in the first place. This was happening because their capturer wanted to prove his point that attempted escape would not be tolerated. At this point they were convinced they’d have to have a death wish to attempt escape now. Especially when their conditions weren’t horrible compared to what they could be in, something which hadn’t crossed their minds till now. Now don’t take their words wrong, by no means did they want to stay here. Especially not now. However, if it meant living another day and not ending up as lunch? Staying definitely was the preferable option.

“One to go. Damn.” The hacker's voice snapped all attention back to him. His position had changed, now leaning back on the table as he looked over the struggling form in his hands. The words seemed to flow from his mouth without too much thought needed behind them. They just felt…right. It was a feeling he never expected to experience in such a context that he was now, much less to have it almost piloting him as it felt now, but he was nearly willing to say he welcomed it. He wasn't well acquainted with the idea of eating living beings after all, so the subconscious help to ease the process along wasn’t something he’d push away. Not unless it were to cause an issue that is. However, nothing of the sort had happened yet, meaning he was going to keep letting his actions flow naturally.

Just as he had with the three before this one, 2b wasted little time starting towards his goal. Raising the grunt just above his head the man dangled the flailing body over his open mouth, a sight that he could assume would terrify anyone in the grunt’s position. All went smoothly as he lowered the small body in. That is until the grunt, having seen an opportunity and taken it, grabbed and yanked down his mic. While he tried to react as quickly as possible, he could only pray the microphone had not managed to pick up the gag he’d made after panic and shock had caused him to jolt forward and send the grunt to the back of his throat. He flipped up the mic as fast as he could, trying to determine the best course of action one could take with a squirming body halfway down their throat and a possibility of having just been ratted out to the others by their lunch. He was screwed were they to find out, what with how at least two of the three always seemed to be looking for teasing ammunition. That and this….well this wasn’t exactly normal, you know.

“Doc? Is everything ok over there?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Ignoring the sinking feeling of dread in his chest the best he could, 2b took a deep breath and forced the fourth grunt down with a swallow that took a little more effort then he felt it should’ve. Flipping down the mic, he answered.

“Damnit- yes. I'm fine, Sanford. Don’t worry.” The sentence had to be his least convincing lie yet. Between his heavy breathing and dryness in his throat he could tell his voice wasn’t helping him in any way. Now he didn’t take his teammates for idiots, despite how it sure seemed like they were sometimes, but in the moment he found himself wishing they were.

“You sure? You don’t sound all that fine. Did something happen back at base?” The worry beginning to lace the man’s voice through the static filled earpiece only served to worsen the feeling of dread in 2b’s chest. He needed to get Sanford, and the others who were no doubt listening, off the idea something had happened. He needed to deal with the whole I-just-swallowed-four-people-alive thing before they came back, so them returning early was not in the plan.

“No, nothing happened.” He shot back, only realizing the speed in his voice wasn’t too reassuring after he said it. Ok, what was a believable excuse for why he sounded like he did? “I just…spilt coffee on my legs after burning my mouth. Must’ve knocked the mic down in the process.” With a hand to his chest the hacker forced a soft swallow, trying to at least get rid of the uncomfortable dryness that had settled in the back of his throat. Please say they believed that.

“Pft, really? Damn, wish I could’ve seen that. Think you looked like one of those old cartoons, Doc?” Phew, crisis averted.

“Real funny, Deimos. Get back to your mission.” 2b shook his head at the comment. At least they seemed to believe him. It was worth it, even if the mental image of those over exaggerated cartoon characters was now going to show up whenever he even slightly burnt his mouth on coffee. Oh well, some sacrifices must be made.

“Alright alright. We’re going.” The man on the other end laughed. Those idiots. Damn his heart caring for them, now he was attached. “See you when we get back. Over and out, Doc!” And there they went.

Fighting off his own soft laughter, 2b flipped up his mic. A soft sigh escaped him before he could even think to stop it. That could’ve been horrible. While one hand softly rubbed at his neck, sore from what he had to guess was the miniature disaster that just took place, the other gently laid itself over his stomach. The four inside never seemed to stop moving, constantly squirming and slipping about. There were a handful of reasons he could assume was the cause, though the most likely was that being shoved into a soaking wet moving sack with three of your colleagues provided little traction or ability to get comfortable. That and panic. Panic was probably a rather big factor in how they were feeling. 2b, on the other hand, had to be feeling the exact opposite of how they were. The warm weight of his four ‘victims’ was a welcome sensation within the previously empty pit of his stomach. As twisted as he knew it sounded, he would’ve been confident saying that what he was feeling was honestly satisfactory. Why having living beings stretch and actually round out his stomach in a barely noticeable way was causing this feeling was a mystery to him, but at the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when it felt this nice.

“I hope I’ve made my point clear.” The unofficial medic hummed, looking over to the grunt filled cage. They had backed away from him by now, huddled in the back most corner of their confines. The sight drew a genuine laugh from the man they all seemed to fear ten times more than before. Well that was proof if he’d ever seen it. Looks like their escape wasn’t something he had to worry about any more. So maybe he sacrificed a little of his ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ act for this. It was worth it in his eyes. And besides, he was probably the most gentle with them out of his whole little gang. If they wanted to be left with one of the others then go ahead. Although being left with the mercenary who you were created to kill didn’t sound like the most fun time to him. Smirking, he collected his goggles, mask, and tablet from the table. “It seems I have. Glad we could have this little -hic!- chat. Heh.”

He gave the cage a pat, the rattling of the metal only serving to scare the grunts further back in the ball of bodies they’d curled into, before turning to walk back to his desk. He needed to sit down. Standing apparently became a lot harder when you had four people fighting against your insides. Thinking back, he didn’t know what he would have expected. Did he stumble a little bit trying to get back to his desk? Yes, he did. It was like he forgot how to walk in all honesty. Another reason he was glad he was alone in their base. Like most things though it proved worth it when he finally collapsed into the worn chair he used for work. Without thinking twice he opened his tablet and started a new log.

—————————

“Doc! We’re back!” The call rang out through the appartement, followed by three sets of footsteps marching their way in and the door slamming shut perhaps a little stronger than needed. As the hinges of the door stopped rattling the three expected to hear a displeased groan, followed by the ruffled form of 2b appearing in the hallway to scold them for being so aggressive or something like tracking blood into the base. Honestly, why he still bothered was a mystery to them, at least Sanford and Deimos for they had zero clue what went on in Hank’s head, for the most part. They were mercenaries, fighters, people looking to not end up with their brains splattered on the wall or something worse. They were going to be bloody upon returning, even if that blood wasn’t their own. It wasn’t like their floors were carpet or anything either. In the end though they never bothered to fight the scoldings. No use making the unofficial medic mad, especially if they needed help. The lack of disgruntled medic in the hallway or at least yelling when silence returned to the room was worrying. After a minute or two with nothing spoken and no ruffled hacker to be seen, Deimos tried again to call him.

“2b?” He called out, peering down the hallway which led to their rooms. There wasn’t any blood on the walls, a good sign to start, and no bullet holes that weren’t there before. Unless the Agency suddenly learned how to do stealth missions, something he and he knew the other two were hoping wasn’t the case, he had hopes. Again, no response from the man. Gun still in his hand he took one glance back to the others, a silent ‘follow me’, before continuing down the hallway. Although Deimos had made it to the closed door first he’d been pushed past by the red goggle wearing giant as he reached for the doorknob. Hank had been the one to open the door to 2b’s room. He’d also been the first of the trio to feel the tension in his shoulders drop. It wasn’t long after he had relaxed that he was shoved into the room by two bodies trying to get in and see any damage that could’ve been done while they were gone. The sight of 2BDamned softly snoring away in his chair, nothing in the room seeming out of place, was most certainly a welcome one.

“Ah. So that’s why he isn’t barking us up a tree for your entrance, Dei.” Sanford hummed with a laugh, careful to watch his volume. If there was one thing he didn’t want to deal with after their mission it was a cranky Doc who got woken up by them. It wasn’t a secret he didn’t necessarily sleep after all and there was no way he could survive off coffee like he seemed to silently claim he could sometimes. They all had times when their sleep schedules were fucked.

“Oh shut up, ‘Ford.” Deimos shot back with a playful punch to the man’s bicep. “It’s not like I’m the one who slammed the door. That’s what he would’ve been on our asses about.”

“You slammed it open then yelled loud enough for all of Nevada to hear you. Don’t act like you’re innocent!”

As the two’s words morphed into friendly bickering Hank took it upon himself to deliver the bit of what they got that couldn’t stay in the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at the moment. Buried in the pocket of his jacket was a small object. Something he hadn’t expected to find, but had snagged nonetheless when it had been pointed out by Deimos. For a second as he walked over to the man a rough hand dug around fabric, fingers gripping plastic as he arrived at his destination. Without thinking he tossed the USB onto the hacker’s desk, eyes wandering over small things like the empty coffee mug or discarded goggles. Behind red-tinted goggles they landed on the man’s tablet, the screen now illuminated thanks to what he could assume had been the small drive hitting the desk. Prying wasn’t something he often did when it came to his teammates, respecting their privacy as they often did his, but after a certain word caught his eye he couldn’t help but read the log that had popped up.

Title: Experiment 05SB

Time: 7:42 pm, xx/xx/xx

Author: 2BDamned

Note: I…cannot believe I’m about to write this. This is update one of Experiment 05SB, an experiment started without much if any bit of a proper plan behind it. Phase I, I suppose you could call it, was a success. The shrunken grunts are, in fact, small enough to swallow whole and…alive. MAGs have not yet been confirmed to be the same way, though I’m sure that answer will show itself one day. I am unsure why I am able to keep four of them down without feeling nauseated, but I can. I will update at a later time when more information has presented itself.

The log ended there, eyes falling away from the screen as Hank’s mind worked to process the information it had just been given. According to what had been written before the man had fallen victim to sleep, it was not only possible to swallow the shrunken beings sitting in one of the cages behind him, but the unofficial doctor had done it himself. Four times to be exact. Curiosity grabbed control of his eyes, slowly panning them up to the cage of grunts who looked noticeably more terrified than they usually did. Had they seen the whole thing go down? His mind continued to wander, finding new questions like how on earth the hacker had managed to keep living and no doubt moving beings down like the log said he did. That is unless he’d spit them up before falling asleep. However that seemed highly unlikely-

“Snooping around Doc’s stuff, are we Hank~?” When Deimos had appeared behind him was beyond the mercenary, though the shock of hearing his voice out of the blue was enough to startle him into quickly powering off 2b’s tablet and whipping around to face the two that now stood across with him with far too smug looks on their faces for his liking.

“Woah there, big guy! We didn’t mean any trouble.” Sanford cooed, the fucking Chad cooed, holding his hands up as if he was under some sort of arrest. “Just wanted to know what you were reading over here is all~.”

“Yeah, exactly. I never expected to find you clicking through Doc’s diary.” Deimos added on nearly flawlessly. Sometimes he really hated how well they worked together. Namely when it was against him. “So, was it a love confession~?”

Hank sighed, glaring at the two through his goggles. He sure fucking hoped they could see the look on his face, despite most of it being covered by bandages and his mask. Because he was not amused and he wanted them to know it.

“No, not a love confession, you morons.” He groaned, shaking his head. Telling them straight off what it said would probably be horrible. At the moment he was still having a few difficulties understanding parts of what he read. Lying just seemed like the best choice overall. It wasn’t like he’d be the only one doing so, after all. It sure seemed like 2b did to them over the mic. Speaking of the man, Hank turned around to take a good look at him. At first glance he seemed like he normally did when he passed out in his chair from overworking himself like this. It was only when Hank took an extra second to look and let the information in his brain guide him did he see the slightly out of place softness around the sleeping hacker’s stomach. Unable to help himself Hank felt his ruined remaining lip quirk up into a small smirk under his mask as he turned around to shove the Dumbass Duo out of the room so 2b could sleep.

“Bunch’a nonsense, is all. Now move. I don’t wanna deal with him if you idiots wake him up and we still have shit to put away.”

#soft vore #mawedness combat #hahaha finally!#I’ve been waiting to use that tag #implied fatal #oopsie #it’s no named character so I guess it’s not bad #I mean this is in the M4dc0m universe so don’t expect my works with these fuckers to be as sunshine as some of my N3ws¡3s ones were #2b I do hope you won’t hate me for this if you can see it

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heliads · 3 years

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What We Are

You’ve hated Draco Malfoy from the moment you met him at the Sorting Ceremony all those years ago. However, you have the strangest feeling that things are changing between the two of you- like just maybe, you like him more than you thought.

masterlist

You are eleven years old, small and swallowed up by the dark cloth of your school robes. You’re filling through the main aisle of the Great Hall, surrounded by a cluster of other anxious first years. Four long tables stretch down the room, two on each side of the hall and each filled with chattering students. Four banners hang at the end of the hall- ruby, emerald, gold, sapphire. One for each house. You’ve been briefed on the houses and their qualities by a newly formed friend, one Hermione Granger, but you’re still nervous. You don’t entirely know which one you belong to, although you have an inkling as to which one should be avoided.

Professor McGonagall begins listing off the names one at a time, and the subsequent first-years file up to her, place the worn Sorting Hat on their head, and receive their assigned House. After a while, your name is eventually called, and you make your way to the front. The Sorting Hat considers for a time, then a smile crawls across its weathered fabric features. “SLYTHERIN!” The word is shouted across the hall, and you feel a sinking pit yawn open in your stomach. Slytherin? That was the one house you were supposed to avoid.

You make brief eye contact with your new friend Hermione, who looks about as stricken as you feel, before settling into a place at the Slytherin table. The emerald-clad students around you clap you on the back, issuing congratulations, but you still feel uneasy. Wouldn’t it have been better to go to Ravenclaw, where all the smartest students belonged? Or brave Gryffindor, or dedicated Hufflepuff? Anywhere would be better than ambitious, cunning, snakelike Slytherin.

A boy seated one space down looks at you, taking in your glum expression. He has striking platinum blond hair, and appears to be a first year just like yourself. “Don’t look so upset. You got into the best house there is, you know. All of the students who go to Slytherin end up being the greatest lot here.” For some reason, the condescendingly arrogant tone of the boy gets to you, and you shoot back a haughty reply. “If all Slytherin students are like you, I don’t fancy staying here at all.” The boy’s expression changes into a glare, and he glowers at you for the rest of the dinner.

That boy would turn out to be Draco Malfoy, Slytherin House’s most famous elitist. The two of you would hate each other ever since that night, and that feeling of utter loathing would continue for years. You’re now far older than you had been as a wee little first year, and so is Draco, but your attitude towards him hasn’t changed a bit. He’s just so conceited, so full of himself- and you’re no better, you know that, but at least you try to hide it.

However, you were lucky enough to score yourself a bunch of friends who knew exactly why you hated Draco, and happened to feel the exact same way. Hermione had been your best friend ever since that first day on the Hogwarts Express, and you had introduced yourself to Harry and Ron around the same time she did. Now the four of you were a regular fixture on the grounds, and you wouldn’t change it for anything, even a few of the haughtier Slytherins (read: Draco Malfoy) made sure to mention that one of their house shouldn’t be mixing with the Gryffindors.

However, you didn’t really care what they thought. Yes, you were a Slytherin, and that meant a good many things: pride, ambition, and a thick skin in terms of others doubting you. So you became even better friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione just to spite them. You often found yourself with them at the Quidditch games, walking across the grounds, sneaking out of your dormitory late at night for a couple of misadventures, or now, with you and Hermione studying together at a table out in a corner of a stone hall.

One of the problems of being a Slytherin friend of three Gryffindors is that they could never go back to your common room to study with you, and you certainly weren’t allowed into their common room. Fred and George had offered to sneak you in loads of times, and you technically had been there before under Harry’s invisibility cloak, but for right now, you and Hermione were content to stay away from the roaring fires and plush red armchairs of the Gryffindor common room to work on a particularly gruesome Potions essay. You both wanted to finish it early, Hermione especially so she could then go teach it to Harry and Ron, so you stayed out of the lion’s dorm until you were adequately prepared.

Hermione sighs at the paper in front of her, wrinkling her brow in consternation. “Honestly, what does all of this even mean? I swear, Professor Snape’s directions get worse and worse with every assignment.” You nod fervently. “This prompt makes no sense, and I’ve been staring at it for the last fifteen minutes.” You drum your fingers on the table, thinking, then stand up. “I’m going to get that Potions primer from the library. You know, the one we were reading earlier? I thought I saw some similar wording in one of the chapters, and at any rate, I need an excuse to go stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Hermione waves goodbye as you head off down the stone corridors. The walk towards the library takes you across the courtyard, and you’re glad for the refreshing bite of the wind, even if it leaves your cheeks raw from the chill. You traipse inside the halls once more, twisting around corners until you reach the library, and gratefully slip through the doors to reach the towering bookcases crowding the room.

You stride purposefully through the shelves until you come to the row you’re looking for at last. Your eyes scan the titles in front of you, and you think you’re almost at the book until a familiar figure steps into the space right next to you. You don’t even have to look up to recognize him. You’ve seen his unwanted presence too many times for a case of mistaken identity.

Draco speaks first. “I’m surprised to see you, L/N. I didn’t think reading was one of your strong suits.” You raise an eyebrow, still perusing the books on the shelf. “Those are strong words coming from somebody who hit his peak academic performance as a weasel in the fourth year.” Draco rolls his eyes. “Ferret, not a weasel.” You look over at him at last, but can’t help a small grin. “Does it really matter? It was still a small animal, and it was still you.”

Draco heaves some dramatic and egotistical sigh, but folds his arms over his chest and stays put. He’s not looking for books, just standing there. In fact, his eyes keep flickering over to the corner of the library, near the door. You straighten up, following his gaze in confusion. “What are you doing?” You ask him, still trying to figure out what he’s looking at with such unease. “You don’t usually go out of your way to enjoy my company and you also keep staring at the door.”

Draco starts to mutter something about how not all of the library belongs to you, but you cut him off with a gasp of delight. “You’re hiding from Pansy Parkinson! She’s over there looking for you, and you’re trying to make sure she can’t see you by hiding behind all the bookshelves!” You laugh, and then start to raise your voice, as if you’re about to call her over. Instantly, Draco leans over you, pushing you against the bookcase and holding his wand against your throat.

“Don’t say a word.” His voice is cool and low. A teasing grin flickers across your lips, and you push his wand away with one finger. “What, you going to hex me, Malfoy? In the middle of the library? I think that would draw your favorite girl over here more than anything.” Draco just stares daggers at you, breath coming harshly in his chest. He stares there, unmoving, until you jerk your chin towards the doors. “Pansy’s gone. Now can you please let go of me?”

Draco waits a moment just to spite you, and then releases his grip on your wrist. You snatch your hand away from him with an air of disgust, and grab your potions book off of the shelf. “Never do that again.” You hiss at him, and stalk away. Who does he think he is, that lout? You’re still storming over the incident the whole way back to the table, and barely notice that Harry and Ron have joined you until you throw yourself back into your seat.

Hermione looks up at your abrupt arrival. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” You heave a sigh of irritation. “Draco Malfoy, that’s what’s wrong. I ran into that lowlife in the library. I just can’t stand him.” Harry nods knowingly, but Ron, who appears to be in an even worse mood than you, rolls his eyes. “Oh, stop complaining. You’re a Slytherin, he isn’t as bad to you.” This is entirely the wrong thing to say, and you know you should just ignore him but you’re still fired up from the confrontation in the library.

“Are you saying that Malfoy’s not as mean to me because I’m from his house?” Ron nods, ignoring Hermione pointedly shaking her head at him in an attempt to get him to stay quiet. “Yeah, I am. You keep pretending like he’s such a jerk to you, but you don’t have it half as bad as the rest of us. Honestly, you need to stop making such a big deal out of nothing.” You know you’re overreacting, but you can’t take Ron’s griping, not today. You stand up, slamming your books shut and sweeping your parchment and quills into your bag.

“In that case, I suppose you don’t need my nothing when it comes to your potions essay. Good luck figuring that out.” You glance over at Hermione. “I’m sorry to leave in a rush, but I should be on my way. Swing by later if you need help.” Hermione says her chagrined goodbyes, and as you stalk away from the table, you can hear her laying into Ron already. The sound brings a smile to your face.

You’re still fuming over Draco and Ron and the god-awful Potions essay the next day, and your irritation must show because Pansy takes advantage of the opportunity to cross paths with you as you’re walking through the halls. She’s chattering with a group of her friends in the courtyard, and as you hurry past, you hear her call something out to you. “Oh look, there’s Y/N. You know, she looks surprisingly proud for someone who’s father is a mudblood-lover. Maybe she’s alright with it.”

Your footsteps slow, and you turn back to face Pansy. You know that this is just what she wants, but you’ve got a burning feeling in the back of your head that tells you that if you let one more person walk all over you you’ll never be able to deal with yourself again. You eye Pansy coolly. “What was that, Parkinson?” Pansy smirks, victorious. “I heard a rumor that your father was getting a little too close to some Muggles. That would certainly tarnish your reputation, wouldn’t it? And here I was, thinking that the L/Ns were an upstanding wizarding family, but I guess not. It looks like-”

You feel like you’re a couple of seconds away from punching Pansy right in her arrogantly prissy face, but before you can try to argue yourself out of violence another boy steps up beside you. You groan inwardly when you realize it’s Draco. Great, another person to make fun of you, because this day wasn’t going badly enough already. However, he doesn’t join in the laughter. In fact, he shoots a glare at Pansy. “Amazing, Parkinson. Did you finally realize that your own family was so low that you had to make up rumors to get anywhere? Although, you might want to stay away from the Muggle story. I think it might be a little too true on your end.”

Pansy’s face blanches, and she starts stammering something about how that couldn’t possibly be true and she has no idea what Draco’s talking about. You stare at Draco in amazement, and he turns back to you. “Let’s go. I don’t feel like wasting any more of our time.” With that, the two of you strut away across the courtyard, leaving Pansy behind to make up excuses to her group of friends.

Only when you’re out of hearing distance from Pansy do you finally let yourself relax. You look over at Draco, unable to stop yourself from laughing. “What was that about? Is it really true about Pansy’s family?” Draco, surprisingly, is grinning as well. “I don’t know, but she didn’t seem like she could deny it.” The two of you carry on in hilarity for a while, but then you turn to him, grin slipping away from your face. “Why did you do that?” Draco frowns. “Do what?” You gesture idly behind you with your hand. “Defend me against Parkinson. I would have thought you’d join in instead of having my back.”

Draco shrugs, looking down the hallway. “We’re supposed to be enemies, aren’t we? I don’t feel like having my rival limited by false rumors. It would lower me too.” You look at him askance. “You publicly insulted Pansy Parkinson just because you think that me being called names hurts you as well?” Draco shrugs. “Why did you think I did it?” You sigh, furrowing your brow. “I don’t know.”

Even after you and Draco turn down separate hallways, you find yourself still thinking about him. Why would he defend you? It makes no sense. You even think back to that moment in the library, and realize that he wasn’t really as cruel as you had thought. All he had done then was exchange the usual retorts, although those had the same joking tinge as always. And wasn’t it strange that of all the places to hide, he had chosen your aisle? It could have just been a coincidence, or maybe he was seeking you out intentionally.

You’re not sure how you feel about this. You’ve grown so used to thinking of Draco as an enemy, someone to be hated, that you don’t quite know what to do when he is nice to you. You find your eyes flickering his way in the common room, or your gaze constantly catching on his silhouette as he walks past you in the halls. You usually never spend this much time thinking about him, but now, he seems to be everywhere.

One night, you can’t focus on your homework. Between the smoky atmosphere of the Slytherin common room or the mind-twisting Transfiguration tasks McGonagall’s set for you, you just can’t seem to get your thoughts in order. Eventually, you close up your books and decide to head to the Astronomy Tower. The cool night air will clear your head, and you’ll still technically be doing homework because you’ll be studying the stars.

You’re grateful for the still emptiness of the tower. You prop your arms up against the stone edge of the balcony, letting your shoulders slump as you consider the dizzying drop to the grounds below. You tilt your head up slightly, letting the wind trace patterns against your skin. You’re just beginning to feel peaceful once again when you hear the door to the Astronomy Tower open and a figure joins you on the turret. You sigh inwardly when you recognize the familiar shock of white-blond hair. Of course- Draco always goes to the Astronomy Tower as a place to unwind. Then you’re surprised as to why that fact popped so readily into your head, and how you even knew that in the first place.

Draco’s steps falter for a second when he realizes he’s not alone. You start to move away from the balcony. “Here, I’ll go. You can have the tower to yourself.” You turn around to find yourself caught in Draco’s gaze, those storm grey eyes pinning you in place. Draco shakes his head just slightly, and his voice echoes across the stone room. “No, don’t go. It’s alright.” You hesitate for a moment, then turn back to the view before you. Your eyes follow the line of trees dotting the grounds, the twisting snakes of rivers that feed into the Black Lake.

After a moment, Draco joins you at the balcony. He leans up against the stone, just a few inches away from you. You both stand there in silence, unable to say a word. At last, Draco turns to you. “What are we?” You return his gaze, slightly confused. “What?” Draco looks away for just a second, and then his eyes return to you. “When we first met, we hated each other. We’ve been rivals for years, and now-” He breaks off. “I don’t think we dislike each other anymore. I don’t think we have for a while.” You stay silent for a second, taking in his words. Then you nod.

“There’s something else, isn’t there? It isn’t just me?” For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far, spoken too rashly. Draco stares at you, then he leans forward and kisses you. When he breaks away, panic and regret flash through his eyes when you don’t say anything. He starts to move away, but you step towards him and kiss him again. This time, he doesn’t break away, not immediately. His hand slides up to the small of your back, the stone of the balcony cool against your legs.

You can still feel his hand on your waist when he breaks away. You look away, sure you’ve made some mistake that you’ll regret in the morning, but then his fingers are lightly pressed against your cheek, guiding you back to look at him again. He looks less sure of anything than you’ve ever seen him, but all of a sudden that doubt is replaced by a calm determination. “This is right. This is what we were supposed to be.” You nod quietly, letting your hesitation break free with a smile. He’s right, isn’t he? No matter how it felt to win all the arguments or competitions with him, this moment right now feels far better than anything before it. This is what you always wanted, and what he wants as well.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy oneshot #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #harry potter draco #harry potter draco malfoy #harry potter draco malfoy imagine #draco #draco imagine #draco x reader #draco imagines #draco oneshot

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vemuabhi · 3 years

Text

Amusement park Date - 1000 ch special!

Hey everyone! This is my celebration for One piece 1000 chapter!

Monster Trio + Ussop

ONE PIECE UNIVERSE

Scenarios where Character and Reader go on a date to Amusement Park on an island

special Law and Kidd Here (Clickable)

LUFFY

I shifted again as I tried to sleep. I don’t know why I’m not able to sleep but because of my shifting I woke my dear boyfriend accidently. He murmured, “What happened Y/N? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Oh dear, I am sorry for waking you up Luffy. I wasn’t able to sleep so I was shifting. Sorry again”, I apologised to him and he placed his hand on one of my cheek as he said, “Don’t apologise, its ok. Are you hungry? Is your hunger making you not sleep? Trust me I’ve faced that.”

I chucked and said, “Yes love, I know you faced it but, I am not hungry. I am just not able to fall asleep.”

Luffy hummed as he closed his eyes trying to think of something but instead I could see his head getting Red as a side effect. He sighed as he opened his eyes and looked at me and added, “I have never faced any other situation, other than that…”, he said in a defeated tone making me smile at his cuteness. “But! I guess if we do this, you can sleep”, he said as he wrapped his arms around me and got very close. He had his classic beautiful smile while he cuddled me.

“I am sure you can fall asleep like this”, he said and smiled widely making me giggle. He was having the perfect temperature and had the smell of delicious Sanji’s cooking.

“This really helps. Thank you love”, I smiled and pecked his cheek as he giggled.

“Then let’s sleep, we should go out to explore the new island”, he said as he pulled me closer and continued, “And… maybe go… on a date…”, with that Luffy fell asleep. My cheeks turned pink and I smiled at how

“Yes Captain!”, I replied. We cuddled as I thought about how amazing our date would be. With the comfort Luffy was giving in his warm hug, it was all I needed for falling asleep peacefully.

As for the date, we both got on different types of rides mostly the scary ones and didn’t even miss one single food stall. Luffy stopped at every single food stall as he wanted to eat all food items available. I was also keeping company to Luffy as he ate.

Suddenly Luffy stretched his neck and came closer to me. I gulped at the sudden closeness. It was a surprise and my heart started beating faster.

“Y/N… you”, Luffy said as I blinked and continued, “Have food on your face”, with this he leaned in and pecked my cheek dangerously close to my lips, where the food was and said, “We don’t want that to waste right”.

‘Oh god Save me’, I thought as covered my flushed face…

After a while I came across a small competition where people were arm wrestling. As I looked at it, I felt a chill run down my spine with excitement. Luffy was still busy stuffing his mouth with food in a stall few meters away.

“Luffy! Come here”, I call Luffy and he stretched and came to my side in a second.

“Will you participate in it”, I asked Luffy as I pointed at the competition.

“Woah! Seems fun!”, Luffy Exclaimed as he jumped onto the stage. There stood a huge guy who couldn’t be beaten up till now as he faced Luffy. According to now, he should be defeated in order to win the competition.

The jerk smirked as Luffy sat in the opposite side of his. He was underestimating Luffy and I really hated that. I know Luffy wouldn’t lose but I still shouted, “LUFFY! WIN! YOU CAN WIN”, luffy smirked and I succeeded in making sure everyone in the place heard it and even draw attention to the place. Everyone’s eyes were on the match as both contestants sat opposite to each other.

“Osu!”, Luffy said as he positioned his arm, and in one swift move, my Luffy got the opponents arm down with a bonus of crashing the jerks complete body to the hard floor of the stage, even making the floor break.

Seeing the scene in front of me, I jumped up the stage and hugged Luffy as he returned my hug and complained, “It wasn’t that hard… boo”, he pouted like a child and I chuckled looking at his face.

We got the trophy and were enjoying so much but in the end….. Luffy accidentally broke one of the rides and we both ran from that scene with the rest of the crew. Anyhow that was sure one hell of a date and I loved it!

ZORO

Me and my boyfriend Zoro, go on a date to the amusement park which was pretty famous for the island we stopped on. We also wanted a break from the crew and spend some quality time together.

We both split from the crew and go for some rides. We enjoyed the roller coaster and did window shopping. Zoro won so many games and got prizes. But we purposely avoided the shooting games because we didn’t want to bump in with the crew now.

“Woah! This is amazing Zoro. You won so many things. Im so proud of you.”, I praised him and all he did was to grunt. Well he is happy and I can feel it.

I smiled at him as he bought me a snack. We both were looking at the stalls as we ate it. Then I saw a cute Lama in a claw machine.

“Awww look at that cute Lama. Can you win it Zoro?”, I pleaded my boyfriend as I gave him puppy eyes.

“Huff… you are such a trouble. Now tell me what you want”, he said as he grinned looking at the claw machine. I grinned as I showed him the Lama which I wanted.

Then… Zoro for the first time in being in the amusement park… lost.

After some time

“Babe stop! Its fine if we don’t get it”, I tell my boyfriend as he tries for the 7th time to win the Lama plushie that I liked.

“No way! Ill win that stupid thing for you!”, Zoro grunted as he lost for the 7th time.

“I really appreciate it Zoro but we are spending all of our money on this claw machine. We still need to see all the other stalls”, I tried to convince him but he wasn’t listening.

Zoro inserted the coin in the machine and got the 8th loss. He was emitting violet and black fumes. He wasn’t going to give up that easily… even after the 22nd time of losing. He was barely keeping his swords away from cutting down the machine. I huffed as I look at my man who is really pissed now. I gently place my hand on his shoulder and say, “Babe… think of it all as your experience. Now use all of it in this game. I am sure you’ll win it this time.”

Zoro took a deep breath and closed his eye. He stayed still for couple of seconds and opened his eye as he got back to the machine. He looked sharply at the Lama plushie and took the handle and pushed it back and froth as he aligned it to the Lama.

“I’m going to get the stupid toy that you liked at all costs”, with this he hit the red button which enabled the Grip for the toy.

As everyone says… 23rd time is the charm, Zoro won the plushie at last!! I was too exited so I just jumped and wrapped my arms around his neck. Zoro took the toy and gave it to me.

“Trust me Zoro, this is the best gift ever because it represents all your hard work and passion of yours.”, I said as I kissed his lips. He blushed and huffed as he said, “Of..of course I said I’d win for you. There is no way I would lose to this dumb game.” He said as he happily took my hand and started to walk away from the machine.

We see Sanji coming towards us. “Hey Sanji! Look at this Lama, Zoro won it for me!”, I proudly showed my plushie to him as he smiled back at me.

“That’s so good! Well done Marimo! So you too can be nice to your lover”, Sanji said as he went towards the machine.

“I don’t need to hear it from you, love cook. So you trying to win huh”, Zoro stayed still looking at Sanji.

“I… I do want to get some toys”, Sanji replied as he played the machine and also… got the stuff toy in the… First try. He inserted the second coin and played as he won… the second time. I was watching Sanji awestruck I didn’t realise Zoro let go of my hand. Then the third win and during the fourth time Sanji won two toys at the same time.

“Woah! See two at a time!”, he said as he walked towards us and gave me a toy and said, “I need to give Nami san and Robin chan also… So I’ll go now”, Sanji said.

“Wait Sanji!”, I stopped Sanji and asked, “How… did you win in a row?”

To which he smiled and said, “Ah! About that… there is a hack where we push the button two times, we will definitely get the toy. Well technically I didn’t say I wanted to win, I just wanted get the toy”, with that he left.

“Babe did you hear”, I turned my head to my side and Zoro wasn’t there. Then I heard, “ONI-”, I looked in the direction and it was too late to stop Zoro, as I saw my man give one blow to the machine, “-GIRI”, making it cut into pieces.

“Zoro…”, I managed to say and then the red lights started to blink with a sound coming from the machine.

“DIE YOU MACHINE! DIE!!!”, Zoro yelled at the machine as I took his arm and started to run away with my plushies held tightly in other hand. Zoro held my hand and with the other he held the bag of items he won in the games. We were being chased by many people and it was a mess but after we escaped and reached the ship, we both laughed at the situation.

XOXO

“Here you go”, said Sanji as he crouched down and handed the third plushie to the little raindeer.

“Ahh! Giving me this doesn’t make me happy you asshole”, Said the doctor as he did his happy dance making Sanji smile at him warmly.

SANJI

“HEY! OVER HERE!”, Sanji waved seeing me as I went towards the amusement park. We agreed to meet here for today’s date. Sanji wore a blue Hawaiian shirt and grey knee length shorts. It was a sunny island and was really warm. Sanji looked so different in this attire from his usual Dress shirt and coat. Not gonna lie he can pull off any type of outfit.

“Y/N! You look so cute!”, he cooed with a wide grin on his face. ‘Agh! I was supposed to compliment him first’, I scolded myself.

“Thankyou… you… you look handsome too”, I managed to let it out in a soft low voice but still he heard it. His eyes widened as his lips parted and his face flushed.

“Thankyou Y/N chan”, he thanked and offered me his hand. I smiled and took his hand as we both headed into the amusement park together. Sanji not once swooned over any other girl from the moment we both held hands.

We both shopped and took some photos together. We both got on slow and romantic rides as it was more romantic. We both played many games and Sanji trying to impress me, as if he hadn’t already done that, won all the games. I mean we were told to leave because he was way too good.

In the way I saw a Horror House. ‘Woah! Did I just get excited?!’, I stop Sanji from walking further and asked, “Sanji, can we go there please”, I pointed towards the Horror house.

Sanji looked at it and smirked as he said, “Yeah why not! Seems fun”. He seemed more excited than I was. Maybe it was because he was also missing the thrill. We walked quickly towards the horror house still my hand in his.

We go into the horror house with excitement. We go in and see some jump scares here and there… not very scary yet… there we go to a room filled with mirrors.

Then suddenly a man in clown costume comes into the room and the mirrors made reflections of him. This took me by surprise and I screamed as I hugged Sanji. He rubbed soothing circles on my back as he hugged me back instantly.

“Don’t get too close! She is scared now because of you”, he started to lecture the clown dressed man as he still hugged me and we left the room. ‘Well I know it’s a place to get scared but… he was so cute when he scolded that person because I was scared. Poor man… just did his job though’, I thought as I still hugged Sanji and explored the house more.

Whenever I got scared he turned his protective mode on and lectured the actors. They were too scared to say anything back and ran away from where they came from. Which never I guess never happened in this horror house before.

We both completed our turn and I was still feeling the adrenaline in my veins. That was actually a very scary horror house I’ve seen. I look at Sanji who was blushing and smiling. He asked, “Are you ok now Y/N?”

“Yeah… it was scary… though I guess you didn’t have much fun”, I said as I hung my head low. He placed his slender fingers on my chin and lifted my head up to face his. He smiled warmly at me and said, “It wasn’t scary to me but, I did love how you held me close to you and how you relied on me when you were scared.”, he said and I blushed. Then I noticed, we were in the same position even now and my blush even grew more. Yet…. I still didn’t want to let him go. I still held him close and I said, “Thankyou… Sanji”, with that he came closer and made our foreheads touch.

“I love you Y/N”, Sanji declared suddenly. His face was so close to mine and I could see the nervousness in his eyes.

“I love you too, you don’t have to be so nervous every time you say it”, I chuckled and he giggle. He pecked my nose and pulled back. He started to sway my hand as he indicated to continue the date. I obliged and we went to another game. ‘What did I even do to deserve him’, I thought as we continued our date.

USSOP

“Agh!! Ussop! C’mon! lets go. It’s a good day, we are on an island with theme park… I want to go on a date”, I nagged at my boyfriend who was in middle of making a new invention.

“Oh… ok then, lets go!”, Ussop says as he got up.

“That’s my baby”, I praise him as I ruffled his hair and he blushed ‘cause I called him Baby.

We both started to head to the theme park with hands linked. He was blushing the complete time. ‘Could he be anymore cuter?’, I thought as I enjoyed looking at my shy boyfriend.

“Ussop, lets eat something”, I turned to see my boyfriend who was already drooling at the sight of all the food stalls. He is a foodie and eats a lot, just… cant be compared to Luffy but he has potential.

“YES PLEASE!”, he said as he went to the stalls to eat. I chuckled when he just shoved a burger down his throat, but my smile was replaced by worry when he choked on it.

“BAKA USSOP! DON’T WORRY ME LIKE THAT!”, I scold him as he chugged down the water I handed him.

“….Sorry Y/N”, he apologises with puppy dog eyes of his which are hard to stay mad at. I huff and accept his apology. I took his hand in mine and dragged him to a scary ride.

“Wait.. Y/N…”, he said as I looked at him and see him placing his free hand on his chest and continued, “I think I’m getting the disease “Shouldn’t get on that ride” help me.” He even fake coughed and swayed back and forth to make it more dramatic. “Like I’d believe that… but keep up the acting. Good job”, I say as he dejectedly follows me while I drag him to the ride.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! SAVE MEEEEEE!!!!! I’M GONNA DIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”, Ussop Yelled the complete ride while I yelled, “YAHOOOOOOO!!!!!! THISSSS IS CRAZYYYYYY!! I LOVE ITTTT!!!”

We both got down the ride as I beamed with happiness and said, “It was so much fun!”

I got no response from my boyfriend so I turned to look at him. He had this dark aura surrounding him. He even was mumbling something which wasn’t… a language I know. It even felt like his soul was leaving his body.

“Ussop… you okay dude?”, I ask him as I crouch down and hug him.

“I am surprised I’m even alive”, he said and returned my hug. He was acting so cute by snuggling against my neck, making me chuckle.

“No way that could kill you”, I place one hand under his arm and other on his waist and pull him up. He looks at me with his glossy eyes making my heart skip a beat.

“Ok ok ok… no more scary rides. I got it. So… lets go and play some games”, I suggest for which he happily nods.

We both go to the game stalls and I saw a shooting game. I stop in my tracks making Ussop to bump into me because he was walking behind me.

“Ouch! What happened Y/N? Why did you stop?”, he asked as I looks at the game I pointed. We both smirked as we looked at each other and headed towards it. Ussop takes a gun and starts to shoot perfectly and wins continuous prizes making me happy.

Suddenly I get a thought of getting a prize for him. So I place my hand on the gun and give coins to the person who was in in charge and take position. I fire the gun but it misses and again and again…. It was making my heart crush but I still wanted to win.

Looking at my sad face Ussop couldn’t help but step in. He gracefully placed his arms on the gun and pointed it to the target. We were in a position where he was basically back hugging me. It’s always me initiating hugs and kisses. So… this made me blush so hard. I was basically a tomato in Ussop’s arms. He pulls the trigger and shoots the target with ease, making me win for the first time.

I smile widely as I notice it. It was his doing but… it made me so happy.

“Y/N Look! You shot the target”, he says as he looks at my face. He notices how red my face was and how close we both were. This makes him blush hard. He slowly lets go of me. The man in charge of the game comes towards us and hands me the prize. He witnessed the moment and was also blushing.

I took the prize and handed it to my boyfriend but I hung my head low. I was too embarrassed to face him while I give it. He takes it with his shaky hands indicating he was also very nervous. I build up my courage, take his hand and start to walk with him to another game.

Ussop was very quiet but then he suddenly says, “I love you Y/N”, making me stop in my tracks. My heart beat increased. I turned around, looked at him and replied, “I love you too Ussop”.

We both smiled at each other and continued walking side by side with our hands linked. ‘Definitely the best date till now’, I thought as we walked back to the ship with lots of toys and prizes.

special Law and Kidd Here (Clickable)

I hope you all liked it! please like, reblog and comment! sorry for any mistakes

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moonbeamwritings · 4 years

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relentless teasing

Summary: After another unfortunate encounter with Dio in the university library, you finally put an end to his endless teasing, much to his dismay. How is he going to get himself out of this one? (Modern/College AU)

Author’s Note: Hi! I’ve never written for Dio before, but I wanted to toy with him not being a murderer, but rather an emotionally incompetent, overly flirtatious college guy. Let me know what you think!

You glanced over your shoulder as you nestled into a corner of the library, praying that you wouldn’t see him. Or rather that he wouldn’t see you.

Dio Brando had elected to make you the newest object of his torments for reasons completely lost on you. He was relentless. Coming up behind you to purr in your ear, boasting about his prowess in the bedroom or on the rugby field. It never seemed to end.

Sure you found him attractive, most people did, but you couldn’t help feeling as though he was playing some elaborate prank on you. Maybe he had picked up on your shy behavior, looking to butter you up for the express purpose of ridiculing you after finding out that, in some dark corner of your mind, you have a crush on him.

No thank you.

You had even gone so far as to change up your usual seat in the library, aiming to throw him off your trail to spare yourself from his presence. Barely even remembering how this cat-and-mouse game began, you prayed to whatever god would listen for some salvation from your own personal hell.

Pulling out your laptop, you lost yourself in an assignment, frantically typing out your responses as you relished in the peace and quiet.

“Funny seeing you here.”

You knew that voice.

Without even looking up, you replied, “Hi Dio.”

“Ouch,” he responded, dramatically landing in the chair next to you and wasting no time in slinging his arm along the back of your chair, “I can’t even get a look at your pretty face?”

The teasing lilt in his voice only served to make the situation worse. You felt your cheeks burn, seemingly working to fry your brain. Not good.

“What, love? Can’t speak? Cat got your tongue? Now, that’s just a shame,” His voice was a low purr, a deep rumble in his chest.

You were certain you were short circuiting.

“You’re insufferable.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he leaned impossibly closer, “I think you like me, no matter how hard you try to hide it.”

Feeling your stomach drop at being found out, your fingers drifted away from the keyboard and up to cover your face.

“God,” the sigh that left your mouth sounds much more defeated than you had meant it to, “it’s not funny, ya know?”

You risked a glance at his face just as an unreadable expression crossed his features, brows creasing as he leaned away from you.

“What are you saying?”

“I know you only do this to tease me and it’s not funny anymore.”

“Is that what you really-”

“Yes.”

You interrupted him before he could finish, tired of this song and dance. He stared at you for a moment and you almost felt guilty. He appeared so… defeated, like you’d single-handedly ruined his day.

“I didn’t realize my presence was that intolerable.” His tone was biting, more sour than you’d ever heard it.

“Dio, I didn’t mean-”

He moved to stand, “I’ll leave you to your work then.”

“Dio,” you pleaded again, but he wasn’t hearing it, strutting away without even a second glance.

Fuck. You hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, you just wanted him to be genuine. For once. Now he’d probably never speak to you again.

Leaving the library with a dejected sigh, Dio headed back to his apartment, fully prepared to throttle Jonathan. He had been the one to suggest that Dio pursue you, so certainly it was his fault that it had amounted to this.

Jonathan had seen Dio’s longing glances at you one too many times, both of them having shared multiple classes with you. He’d never seen Dio look at anyone like that, so he encouraged him to start talking to you. Little did Jonathan know that the Dio Brando Method bordered on ridicule and accentuated some of Dio’s worst qualities. The confidence, the playboy attitude, the teasing. He cringed just thinking about the times he had overheard Dio teasing you in the library, sounding more mean than anything else.

Slamming the door open, Dio started yelling before even seeing who was home, “Jonathan!”

Jonathan flinched at the sound, pausing the movie he and Erina had been watching, “What is it Dio?”

“Why won’t they give me the time of day? I try, do I not?” Dio practically threw himself on the empty chair, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling, diving right into a detailed account of his encounter with you.

Jonathan let out a hum, choosing his words very carefully so as to not instigate a blow-out. Erina didn’t deserve that.

“Maybe if you toned down the teasing you’d come off as more sincere,” he finally replied, observing Dio carefully.

“Ugh,” Dio groaned, doing nothing to hide his displeasure, “What do you know? I don’t even know why I asked.”

Jonathan was experienced, too experienced, in the art of drawing Dio back from the brink. Years of punches and fits of rage taught him at least that much.

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes.”

Erina chimed in, having been filled in on all of the drama by Jonathan, “Have you ever tried talking to them like a normal person?”

Dio shot up, pointing a finger in her direction, “Shut up. They’re not normal, it’s-”

“No way,” she replied, a knowing smile lighting up her face, “You really like them.”

“Just tell me how to fix it.” His voice bordered on a whine, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was you, in whatever way you’d have him.

“The next time you see them, just try talking to them. No teasing, no invading their personal space. Nothing.”

“But-”

Jonathan rolled his eyes, “You wanted my help didn’t you?”

Silence fell over the room for a long moment before Dio dragged himself up from his spot in the living room, “Fine. I’ll try.”

Dio didn’t see you for another week. He couldn’t tell if you were avoiding him or if he was inadvertently avoiding you, growing uncharacteristically nervous at the thought of seeing you again. Nevertheless, he found himself longing to see you again. You always looked so cute when he saw you in the library, furrowed brow as you concentrated on your studies. Surely he couldn’t be entirely to blame for wanting to tease you a little bit, right?

Shaking his head, he found a spot at a vacant table near a large window, looking to get some homework done. Dio lost himself in his law textbook, furiously trying to accomplish an assignment all while thoughts of you swam in his head. After an hour of silence, he was startled by the sound of the chair across from him being pulled out.

It was like he was seeing an angel incarnate. You were standing in front of him with a small, almost sheepish smile on your face, backpack slung on one shoulder, hand gripping the chair in front of you. You’d never looked so beautiful.

“Sorry. Do you mind?” You asked, not wanting to intrude, especially after how poorly things had ended last time.

He shook his head, brain still trying to process what was happening.

“Dio I-” You let out a shaky breath, not quite meeting his gaze, “I’m sorry. About last time, I mean. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. It was-”

He interrupted you before you could go any further, “Don’t apologize. I was being an asshole.”

“No, that’s not-”

“Love, will you please just let me finish?”

He waited for you to nod before he continued, “I’m not used to this. I’m not used to caring or even apologizing, but you make me want to do both. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I do care about you and I’m sorry I made you think I was only talking to you to make fun of you.”

You sat there with your mouth slightly agape. He couldn’t be serious. No way.

“You’re serious?” You asked, hesitating to trust the situation, but remaining cautiously optimistic.

He nodded somewhat solemnly, afraid you’d reject him, “Yes.”

If Dio thought you were beautiful before, you were absolutely stunning now. The smile that graced your features was more than enough to blind him, but he’d gladly accept that fate if it meant that was the last thing he’d ever see. He felt his heart melt.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, starting to smile himself.

“I don’t know,” You responded with feigned innocence, “You tell me.”

He rolled his eyes, his smile slipping into a smirk, “That easy, huh? All I had to do was apologize?”

You shrugged, “Hmm, I think you owe me a date, Mr. Brando. Ya know, for the emotional damages.”

“Why you little,” He nearly lunged across the table at you, resting a hand along your neck as he pulled you into a searing kiss.

Maybe his teasing wasn’t so bad after all.

#dio brando x reader #dio brando imagine #dio x reader #dio imagine #jjba x reader #jjba imagine

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kamuiboyfriends · 2 years

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Top 5 Romance Club Love Interests

CONTEXT: The only stories I’ve fully caught with up as of the making of this post and therefore, met the LIs of their stories firsthand are the following:

Sails in the Fog S3E9

Moonborn S2E1

Shadows of Saintfour COMPLETED

Wave Patrol COMPLETED

Seduced by the Rhythm COMPLETED

Chasing You S1E2 (RIP lmao)

Heaven’s Secret COMPLETED

Rage of the Titans S2E8

Gladiator Chronicles S1E7

Heart of Trespia S1E7

The Flower from Tiamat’s Fire S1E2

Thanks to @somin-yin for the tagging for this! Now with my limited experience, lemme see if I can craft a top 5😂

(I blame Gladiator Chronicles for having currently little to no confirmation on LIs so if a “Love Interest” from that book happens to show up, I’m just assuming they’re a LI.)

Disclaimer: This list was kinda spontaneously made and on the spot so… yeah. Also I don’t have pictures so they were picked of off the wiki so quality of photos will be meh.

LIST BELOW THE CUT (It gets wordy. Sorry about that😅

Tagging: … I once again don’t know who to tag because everyone seemed to have done this by now. So I guess if you see this and haven’t already been tagged… feel free to make your own top 5!

5. CHARLES (SBTR)

I just like the little backstory of MC and Charles. The whole close bond together in their teens but they get separated due to unfortunate events, then reunites in the future? I kinda like that. Also, he’s hot and sweet which is quite a combo! Then why is he low on the list? Simply put, other stories attracted me more to them and their respective LIs.

4. SAMUEL MAKOTO (CY)

Despite being unfortunately in a story I only have two chapters of experience, I really enjoyed some of the screenshots I saw! (which were mostly about him and Alex being sus but enough about that.) That plus the small time I get to see him in HS. He was one of the few LIs I saw when I was just a newbie to this app and I was just drawn to him, let that speak for itself.

3. MURPHY / JASON (ROTT)

Yeah… I’m putting these two in a tie. As someone who is undecided in their LI in this story, combined with Ares making me wanna act up, I’m literally that meme of the guy sweating because he didn’t know what button to press. For Murphy? Do I need to explain? Man is so damn hot and also quite the softie too! For Jason? I honestly don’t know😆 I was just drawn to him from the start and I REALLY want to explore his route, despite its non-existency but I can wait for as long as I can… I think…

Also yeah I’m probably the one Jason stan in this whole app😀 But this lack of screentime makes me second guess myself cause wtf…

2. HOTCH (GC) (I hope…)

The Jan 2022 update only further cemented my want for this man to be confirmed of LI status. In Episode 7, he was kinda giving flirty and confident vibes? I like that! Am I grasping at straws on a character that might not even be an LI? Probably but that doesn’t mean I like him any less. Also he’s a spy… that’s cool!

1. MALBONTE (HS)

Though I’m not alone in this, I can definitely say that this was a landslide for me. If you can draw me to a whole new app and then exceed my expectations on your character and the story you’re in the way Malbonte did, you’re going on top 1 for me. Why do I like him? There’s something about instilling fear on everyone just by existing that I find attractive LMAO. He’s also REALLY beautiful AND the path I was going for in HS was where I had to balance Angel and Demon points, which was conveniently named the “Path of Malbonte”… You can’t tell me that’s not fate.

END OF POST

#romance club #i don’t know what else to tag this as

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onebatch2batch · 3 years

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Karen as an art student reacting exactly how I would to seeing Frank Castle in a coffeehouse AU

As an art student, Karen prides herself on what she produces. She’s won scholarships, she’s sold paintings, she has an Etsy shop—she has done everything she can to establish herself as an artist. But she also hasn’t drawn anything worthwhile in months and she’s going fucking crazy. Around her, the coffee shop is an ASMR in live action; cups clink against dishes, muted conversation eclipsed by grinding beans, paper rustles. Karen sits alone and stares into her coffee mug, trying to think of the last thing she created and actually applauded herself for.

It’s too far back for her to be pleased about. She sighs and takes a sip of her coffee. As she does, she takes a slow glance around. There’s a couple across the room who have their heads bent close together. The girl looks guilty, the boy unhappy. An older gentleman sits at the bar with the newspaper, shoulders hunched. There’s some college kid with a laptop a few seats away from her, headphones in. And in the corner—Karen pauses. In the corner is a man.

He’s in a navy sweater—that’s what she notices first. The color goes beautifully with his tan skin, and she’s a little jealous considering she’s been pale as a ghost since August. His jeans look worn and comfortable, and his boots thick and heavy. There’s a large cup in front of him that he seems to have forgotten about. His elbows are braced on the table, thick fingers holding his paperback book aloft. The cover looks familiar, and after a moment she realizes it’s Catch-22. Karen absorbs all of these small details before allowing herself to look at his face.

Karen likes to think she has a good, albeit unorthodox taste in men. She’s always liked a man with striking features. This one is no different—his sharp chin meets an even sharper jawline and there’s a five o clock shadow on his face that makes him look a little rugged. His nose is a bit on the larger side, and crooked like he’s broken it once or twice before. A high forehead gives way to a thick head of short, dark curls. And finally—his eyes. From this distance she can tell they’re dark but nothing more. His brow is lax as he reads, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Karen zeros in on his mouth, on his defined cupid’s bow, as her hands reach automatically towards her sketchbook.

She needs to draw him. It would be a crime not to.

Coffee forgotten, Karen takes her fill of examining him. Her hand begins quick, soft movements as she creates his general outline. And then, glancing between her page and the way his shoulders move as he absentmindedly stretches, she begins to sketch with more surety. The man keeps his eyes on his book, eyes flitting back as forth across the words. As she draws, Karen wonders what his name is. He looks like a John, maybe. Or a Pete. Something simple and plain to juxtapose his features. Something that he can hide behind when he wants to go unnoticed.

He seems like the kind of guy who would prefer to be unnoticed.

Karen finishes one sketch and makes a face. Absolutely not—she’s gotten the nose all wrong. His forehead is too low. His shoulders too slumped.

She starts over.

On and on it goes. She draws four sloppy versions before she realizes he’s put his book down. By the time she registers that he’s watching her, it’s too late. Her pencil falters in her grasp. Their eyes meet.

Oh no. Mortified, Karen looks away, into her coffee mug. Maybe he just happened to glance at her when she glanced at him. Maybe it doesn’t have to be awkward. Or maybe she’s made him feel awkward and he’ll leave. The thought causes a pang to echo in her chest and she looks up to ensure that’s not the case.

Hot man with striking features is coming towards her, mug and book in hand.

Ohh no.

“Hey,” the man says once she’s standing before her. His voice is raspy, almost hoarse, and undeniably sexy. It makes her spine tingle. He cocks his head slightly, glances down at the sketchbook. “What’re you doing?”

It’s too late, he’s seen the sketches. Karen can’t tell if she’s more embarrassed at their slipshod quality, or that she’s been caught. She habitually rubs the corner of the page between her fingers—a nervous gesture.

“I’m just sketching, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” There, that’s a good way to put it. Casual. Apologize. Don’t stare too hard at the way his brows raise, mouth pursing to the side.

He blinks. “Sketching me?”

She must be flushed pink now. Karen clears her throat and straightens her posture. “Yes, I won’t anymore if you don’t want me to.”

“No, no, I don’t mind,” he says quickly. “I just—what for?”

She blinks up at him, at his genuinely confused expression, and it all clicks. “Well,” she says carefully, “because you’re attractive and gave me some inspiration.”

Now it’s his turn to blink down at her, and then he laughs once. Then again softer, dropping into the chair in front of her, rubbing his jaw. “Sorry, ma’am, I mean—you think this face is attractive?”

It’s self-deprecating, but gracious. He’s comfortable with the thought that people don’t find him attractive--and that won’t do at all. Karen raises her brows, her embarrassment forgotten. “Want me to show you?”

The man takes a long pull from his mug, eyes never leaving hers, and then he nods. Karen grins, flips to a new page, and begins to draw.

—

She gets lost in the marks of her pencil as it scratches over the thick page of her sketchbook. Her soft graphite circles give way to darker, stronger lines that slowly form into the man sitting before her. When she glances up to reference him, he’s watching her curiously. She’s pleased to note that his ears are a little pink, but he doesn’t move much. Occasionally he lifts his mug to his lips, causing her pencil to falter as she watches, and then once his face is revealed again she continues.

This goes on long enough for her to develop a cramp, but Karen powers through until she’s finished. This could be the last time she ever sees the man before her, and she wants to get it right. She needs to prove to him that he’s wrong about himself.

“It’s the nose, isn’t it?” He jokes when she finally stops, staring down at her page. The likeness is as close as she will ever get to him with this medium, and she wants to keep it to herself just one more moment before giving it away.

“I like your nose,” she tells him after a beat too long, and then shoots him a look that tells him she means it. And then she turns the sketchbook to show him.

The man rips his stare from her face and looks at the drawing in silence. After a moment he reaches out to take it from her, holding it delicately between his hands. She searches his expression for a clue of what he’s thinking, but his brow is smooth and mouth unsmiling. Finally, he hands back the drawing and folds his arms loosely on the table.

“That’s fuckin’ incredible,” her tells her, and the air whooshes out of her lungs in relief.

“Thank you. I’m Karen Page, by the way.”

He accepts her handshake. His palm is dry and warm. Calloused. “Frank, Frank Castle. Nice to meet you, ma’am. But I still think you’re crazy.”

He says it with such a rueful grin that she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Well, think I’m crazy all you want. That doesn’t stop me from knowing that the couple in the corner are fighting because the girl was staring at you, and it doesn’t stop me from wanting to draw you again.”

Frank glances at the corner, where the boy is shooting him daggers. He huffs, then turns an amused look on Karen. “Well, can’t say I know what to say to that other than thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Would you like to keep it?”

Frank taps his finger on his coffee mug consideringly. His eyes trace the online of her drawing. “Only if I can buy it.”

“No way, Frank.” She likes the way his name fits in her mouth. It suits him far better than Pete. She wants to say it again, but she settles for: “I was just practicing, is all. It’s yours.”

He takes the drawing and slides it carefully between the pages of his book. Then he looks at her again and smiles. “Then how ‘bout I buy you dinner tomorrow night?”

It catches her so off guard that she’s already nodding before he’s finished talking. Once it sinks in that he’s asked her out, he’s already plucked her pencil from her hand and written his number on a napkin. He pushes it towards her and grins again.

“No pressure. You call me, if you decide you wanna.”

Karen takes it and carefully writes his number next to her previous sketches of him. She glances up at his pleased look, and instantly knows she’d gladly spend a lifetime trying to catch that expression on paper.

But she’s happy to start tomorrow, with dinner.

#kastle #kastle fam #mine #my writing #kastle ff #kastle fanfic

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ikeromantic · 3 years

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More Than Life

A mini-fic for @scruffymctee featuring Shingen and his honeyed tongue (cough) for my 400 Follower Celebration! Approx. 1900 words

May, Shingen, Sweet and (very) Spicy!

Shingen did not love flowers as much as Yoshimoto did, but flowers, as every wise man knew, were one way to please a goddess. He focused on that as Yoshimoto walked him through hanakotoba, pointing out each type of blossom, color variation, even the shape of the leaves and stem . . .

“The perfect bouquet for a woman should indicate your reverence for her beauty, your passion, respect for her wisdom and will, the qualities you love in her, and -”

Shingen stopped, confused as Yoshimoto stopped talking. The Imagawa clan head was staring off into the distance with a sublime smile. He followed Yoshimoto’s gaze to one of the garden paths. There, his goddess walked. Petals fell around her, landing in her hair and shoulders, covering the path beneath her feet. As if the world sought to worship her as he did. His beauty.

After a moment, both men coughed, shuffling their feet. Yoshimoto’s gaze slid to a vining morning glory as if it was that which caught his attention.

“I think I know what flowers I will choose, Yoshimoto. Thank you for helping me with this.” Shingen smiled at his friend.

“Of course. It is the least I can do.” The Imagawa clan leader bowed low.

After Yoshimoto left, Shingen sat on one of the sun-warmed stones. Though he meant to be looking at the flowers, his eyes strayed to her. She’d found a shady spot to watch the koi pond while she worked. A bit of cloth lay in her lap, and thread.

Shingen wondered what she was working on. He loved her creativity. Was there a flower for that? He couldn’t recall if Yoshimoto mentioned it. Something with ‘a’ . . . aster? No.

“Are you watching me?”

He started in surprise, wondering just how long he’d been lost in his thoughts.

“I don’t like being stalked.” His goddess frowned at him, her hands in small fists at her hips.

Shingen thought fast, trying to come up with something smooth. Words to win her back to him. But his mind hit the same refrain he’d been stuck in since their argument. “I - I’m sorry! Please, just talk to me . . .” but she was already turning away. Damn. Shingen’s fist connected with the stone, painful, but not as much as the hole in his chest.

He saw Sasuke approach and take her arm. She leaned on his shoulder as he guided her out of the garden. Shingen wasn’t jealous. He knew Sasuke too well to worry the ninja would try to steal his girl. He was her friend and it was good she had someone to talk to.

Shingen stood and stretched. His hand was throbbing but he ignored it. He had a plan to win his goddess back and it started with a bouquet. Something so beautiful that she would soften her rage and let him apologize.

He heard footsteps and turned, hoping it was Sasuke. A word with the ninja would be good. He might have some insight, afterall. But it was only Yukimura. Yuki was a fine young man, but he knew nothing about women and even less about romance.

The two men scowled at each other in a friendly way.

“You look awful,” Yuki said after a moment. “You’ve got a stain on your collar and leaves in your hem.”

Shingen brushed at his clothes self-consciously. He hadn’t really been thinking much about his clothes the last few days.

“Anyway, Kenshin says to leave you be but I figure he knows less about this than I do. I mean, he hates girls. Not her - but most of ‘em.” Yuki’s frown looked more sad than anything else. “You really messed this up, didn’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. Shingen nodded, feeling another wave of sharp pain in his chest. “I only meant to go drinking and be back by dark,” he sighed.

“Sure.”

“Nothing really happened.”

“Right.”

Shingen sighed. They’d had this conversation a thousand times. Telling Yuki again did him no good. It was his goddess that needed to know. She had to believe him. The girls with their tokkuri, pouring him drink after drink. He’d barely noticed them. It was only his bad luck that one had . . . well, not fallen. Jumped. On him. Right at the moment she’d come through the door.

It looked bad. Shingen couldn’t deny that. But he had eyes only for his goddess. Only wanted to touch her. His princess was the only woman he could see, and if she didn’t want him . . .

“Come on. Don’t make that face or we’ll both end up crying.” Yukimura slapped Shingen’s arm lightly.

Shingen swallowed. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Is there - did something happen?”

It was Yuki’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I, uh, I’m not - I mean, girls are - anyway - I wanted to help you. If you need it. ‘Cause you can’t fight like this.” He shrugged.

“You're a good man, Yukimura.” Shingen tried on a smile. It almost fit. “There is something you can help me with, actually.”

A few minutes later, Yukimura hurried from the garden with his marching orders.

Now to find Sasuke. Or rather, to be found by. The ninja leapt down from a rooftop just as Shingen reached his rooms at Kasugayama.

“She is still angry.” That was what the ninja said, one eyebrow slightly raised for emphasis.

Shingen nodded. “I figured. And I deserve it. I shouldn’t have let those women treat me to a round.” Several rounds, if he was honest but it didn’t bear mentioning right now.

Sasuke nodded. “I am glad you realize that. She said, and I quote, ‘He probably called them all princess,’ and then burst into tears. You are FUBAR.”

“What? Food . . . bar?” Shingen shook his head. Something from the future, he guessed. “But . . . you said she was crying. I - I promised I wouldn’t make her cry.”

“I know.” Sasuke watched him, his expression flat and unreadable.

Shingen thought the ninja might be a little angry with him too. “Did you tell her I said I was sorry?”

“Affirmative, but there was no positive reaction to that statement.” After a moment of silence between them, he added. “I hope you have a better plan in mind.”

“I do.” He pulled the ninja to the side and gave him the general outline.

Sasuke nodded thoughtfully. “It might work. So what do you need me to do?”

“Keep her out of her room for the day - preferably outside the castle.”

“I can do that. But fair warning. If this doesn’t work, I didn’t know and I wasn’t involved.”

Shingen gave a pained grin. “It’s on my head. And don’t I know it.” He went back to his rooms and began his part in this plan. A letter. Words to open the heart of a goddess, he hoped.

The next morning, he put his plan into action. Sasuke took his goddess to the town to see a new fabric dye he'd found. Yukimura brought sweets and new wine from a local shop she liked. And Yoshimoto helped Shingen pick the finest flowers. When they were done, her room was covered in blossoms.

There were sakura bunches, the last of the season. Delicate purple sumire, and white anemone. Lilies, roses and camellias. Yoshimoto arranged them in layers of meaning. Apology, remembrance, all of the things he loved about her, and finally, love and passion. The center was a red burst of camellia and rose, the petals lying against each other in a profusion of delicate beauty. And there beside them, his letter, the sweets, and wine.

And just in time too. He could hear her laughter from the gate. And Sasuke’s voice, though he couldn’t make out the words.

“We should go. I don’t want to be here when she first sees it.” Shingen followed his friends out of the room.

Yoshimoto gave him a heartfelt smile. “She will see the truth of your heart, Shingen. Good luck.”

Shingen retired to his room. He tried to read, but couldn’t focus. Then he stood, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. Waiting was impossible. He had to know if his princess could possibly -

His door slammed open and she stood in the glow of sunset, red light glinting off her skin. His goddess. Her eyes were damp from crying. The curve of her lips trembled with some strong emotion.

He opened his mouth to say something - anything - but his throat closed tight.

“I hate you so much,” she whispered hoarsely, closing the distance between them.

Shingen was ready for a slap. For her to shout. For whatever she wanted from him, whatever it took to earn her forgiveness. He wasn’t prepared for her to throw her arms around him and kiss him.

He could feel every inch of her beneath the thin fabric of her kimono and after days of distance between them, she felt like heaven. Like coming home. Shingen drowned in the taste of her, the way she smelled. He felt like a man dying of thirst, finally granted spring rains.

She pulled back, her eyes studying his face intently. “I should still be mad at you. But I - I just can’t . . .”

“I’m so sorry, princess. I was an idiot. I am an idiot.”

“You are.” She gave a laugh that was half-sob. “I feel like you tore my heart out.”

“And mine with it.” Shingen cradled her like the treasure she was.

She kissed him again, her tongue claiming his mouth with a possessive passion. Her teeth scraped his lower lip lightly as she pulled back. “Mine.”

“Every piece of me,” Shingen agreed.

Her lips traced from his mouth down the line of his jaw, and nipped his neck. “Mine,” she breathed.

Shingen’s voice was hoarse, almost a groan as he agreed. It wasn’t just her kisses. Those wicked hands of hers slid under his clothes, scraping little lines of fire down his sides. His goddess wanted to mark him and he wanted to let her.

She pulled open his kimono, mouth hot on the skin of his chest. She kissed his nipples, her breath making them hard and incredibly sensitive. “Mine,” she growled.

Shingen could only groan agreement as she went lower still. He’d never realized she had such a possessive streak. Nor that it would feel so good to be possessed.

Her fingertips trailed down the tender skin at his hip. Teasing. Drawing little circles that brushed against his most sensitive places.

He was so hard that he ached to be in her. To feel her heat. But he held himself still, letting her lead. And lead she did, pushing the cloth of her kimono back to show how very deliciously naked she was underneath.

His goddess wrapped her legs around him, kissing back up his chest. When she reached his lips she stopped and held his gaze. “God. I missed you so much, Shingen. Don’t you ever, ever, ever do that to me again. Because if you do . . .” her voice shook.

“I am yours, princess. Heart, soul, and body. I never want to be without you.” Shingen held her by the waist, resisting the urge to do more. He could feel how much she wanted him though, with her pressed this close. It was maddening. How could one woman be angel and demon all at once? Filling his heart and driving him mad with desire for her. She was everything.

She smiled. It was a hurt smile, one that said trust would take time to rebuild. But it was a smile nonetheless. “Do you . . . want me?” A question heavy with meaning.

“More than life.”

“Show me.”

Shingen did. He gave her every breath of longing he’d had since their fight, every shred of himself. He worshipped her with his tongue and his hands and his cock. With his eyes and his words of love. And angel that she was, she blessed him with her pleasure until, exhausted, they slept.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen shingen #shingen takeda #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #spicy #really spicy

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exoticarmyofcrowns · 4 years

Text

sing for me | kth

pairing: taehyung x fem!reader

summary: you have been living with your roommate for well over a year and the unresolved sexual tension between the two of you finally comes to a head

genre: romance, smut (VERY 18+ not for the littles), roommates au

warnings: masturbation, vouyerism??, fingering, thigh riding, attempted dirty talk, breath play, slight power play???, excessive use of the word “baby” and other pet names, kinda awkward discussion of feelings thrown in bc my characters never shut up when i want them to get it on sorry

word count: ~6.6k

a/n: hello~ um... i have no explanation for this. i am like half ashamed and half proud of this??? idek man. all i know is that i couldn’t have done it without @sugaerie so thank you so much my queen i love uuuu

You step through the door of your apartment, feet practically screaming with relief as you kick off your shoes.

Work was really kicking your ass lately. Add that together with the stress of grad school and you had a deadly concoction not even your favorite tea and copious amount of ibuprofen could protect you from. Your job as a cashier was pretty easy, you can’t lie, but constantly standing and running around the store did a number on your poor feet. Thank god you had weekends off—a perk of having worked there so long you practically had the manager wrapped around your pinky when it came time for scheduling—so you could sleep in for once.

Tossing your keys on the counter, you spare a glance at the clock above the stove as you walk into your small kitchen. It’s about a quarter to midnight. You figure Taehyung is still out with his friends, hitting up one of the bars downtown.

You sigh heavily at the thought of your roommate. Not because anything wrong with him. Taehyung is nothing short of incredible. He’s sweet and kind, always greeting you with the most adorable boxy smile that makes you feel like the only person in the universe. People gravitate toward him just as easily as he draws them in, a natural warmth that instantly puts others at ease in his presence. He’s generous and thoughtful, never missing an opportunity to surprise you at work with a coffee or just to see you. Those shifts are your favorites and maybe you’re a little spoiled because you often find yourself glancing at the entrance more often than not, trying to see if you can spot his dark, curly head from your register.

Not to mention Taehyung is incredibly stunning. Long dark curls frame his face in the most intimidatingly beautiful way it’s often hard to look away from him. He’s got piercing dark eyes that can stare right into your soul but that also crinkle beautifully at the corners when he smiles. His fashion sense is killer, obscure brands and fabrics lining his closet almost like a museum. You’re not sure how but he can wear just about anything and still manage to look like he just stepped off a runway.

He works as a freelance photographer and has quite the sizeable following on social media. He’s passionate about his work and it shows in the quality of his photos. You know next to nothing about photography but even you can see that the beauty and skill with which he wields his camera is nothing short of magical. Commissions are not hard to come by for him, though you’re more than positive it has just as much to do with Taehyung himself as it does his beautiful portfolio.

No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Taehyung.

Only that he’s perfect and you have a massive crush on him.

Exhaling tiredly, you run a heavy hand down your face. Anyone else would be ecstatic about having such a wonderful, attractive roommate but you know things like this can only end in disaster. More than anything, Taehyung is your friend—your best friend, you would argue—and involving feelings into your relationship can only end poorly. The whole roommates thing just adds another layer of complication that is better left alone. You don’t shit where you eat, after all.

But it’s difficult. Taehyung is just so nice and likeable it’s unreal. You often find your thoughts wandering to dangerous places when you both are curled up on the couch together during movie nights, blankets and pillows and snacks scattered all over the living room, while he curls his body around you without a second thought. He’s naturally tactile, you try to remind yourself in an effort to calm your racing pulse but then he’ll laugh at something happening in the movie, his cheeks plumping up adorably, and you know you’re a lost cause as you feel your heart melt all over again.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings for your roommate and you know something has to give eventually. In the last couple of weeks, there seemed to have been a shift in the air whenever you were around each other. Taehyung was still your adorable and playful friend but the hugs seemed longer, the touches more tender and lingering. You even think you’ve caught him staring at you a few times, a strange new darkness simmering beneath the chocolate irises.

Flushing with embarrassment and shame, you bury your face into your hands. Of course not. You’re just being ridiculously optimistic. You pull out a clean glass from the cupboard and fill it with water from the sink, hoping to dampen the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Cleaning up, you decide to pamper yourself with a long hot shower complete with a nice sugar scrub and an in-shower face mask. You even spring for a shave, already excited for the feel of your sheets against the smooth, moisturized expanse of your legs. It’s the little things.

You hum lightly under your breath, already feeling the residual tension from the week bleed out as you gently massage your favorite lotion into your skin. Finishing up, you feel much more relaxed and so wonderfully clean you can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you move to head back to your room.

“___.”

It’s faint, so faint you think you imagine it but it still makes you freeze as you step out of the bathroom. Glancing down the short hallway that leads to your room, you blink for several seconds and wait to see if you hear it again. When nothing happens, you feel your heart resume its normal pace before rolling your eyes at yourself and continuing on to your room.

“___.”

This time it’s unmistakable and you can’t help the way the sound of your name makes you jump in fear. Now you’re in full-on panic mode and you anxiously scan the apartment. Your eyes catch on the faint light emanating from Taehyung’s room and you relax slightly. How had you not realized he was home already?

Your relief quickly morphs into confusion. Why would Taehyung be calling for you? Did he need something? Was he hurt? Stifling your self-induced panic, you quietly make your way over to his door. Despite having been in his room multiple times before, something feels off now. Almost like you shouldn’t be there. You can’t quite put your finger on it but something about the whole situation has you on edge…

You shake it off. It’s fine. You’ll just casually peep through the slightly ajar door and make sure everything is okay before marching off to bed to enjoy your evening in. Simple as that, right?

Wrong.

Whatever you thought you were going to see past the small opening of his door doesn’t hold a candle to the image that will undoubtedly be burned into your memory forever.

There, laying casually on his bed, is Taehyung. That in and of itself is not out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that he is naked save for the boxers he normally wears to bed, with a hand pulling desperately at his painfully red length.

It’s suddenly hard to breathe, air catching so violently in your throat you nearly choke audibly. Slapping a hand over your mouth and nose, you will yourself to calm down enough to take in the scene before you. Taehyung’s long legs are splayed almost elegantly across his sheets, deliciously thick thigh muscles clenching and unclenching from his ministrations. His hand glides skillfully over his cock, alternating between slow, languid tugs and fast, unyielding strokes. He throws his head back before tucking his chin in briefly, tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. A hiss of pleasure melts into a throaty groan and heat pools rapidly in the pit of your stomach.

A voice in the back of your mind screams for you to get away while you can. You shouldn’t be here. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve lusted after your roommate, how long you’ve wanted to push him against any flat surface and have your way with him or let him have his way with you. It doesn’t matter that you want to do couple-y things with him too, like hold his hand and kiss those soft, pink lips because you are roommates—friends—and a fling like that could only end in disaster, especially when he doesn’t feel the same way. It doesn’t matter and you have to leave now before—

“___,” Taehyung groans once again, hands caressing up his lean stomach and you’re distracted by the way his muscles ripple with the attention. “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come help me?”

Something between a squeak and a cough leaves your throat in that instant and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t bring yourself to move for a good second but Taehyung lets out another low moan and your feet move of their own accord into the bedroom.

If you thought he was beautiful before, he is absolutely glowing in the soft light of his bedside lamp. A light sheen of sweat coats his skin and you are overwhelmed with the urge to lick a stray bead that travels down his neck. Your breath is coming out in short pants and you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together to ease the ache. This does not go unnoticed.

“Hello, darling.” The words leave his lips in a low purr and a shiver zips down your spine. He’s smirking at you, hands still gripping his length but his pace has slowed significantly as if giving you a show. He seems perfectly comfortable despite the lack clothing, completely unfazed by your blatant staring. Like he wants you to look at him and only him. The thought has your face burning.

“T-Tae, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t is obvious, sweetheart? Surely I don’t need to spell it out for you, hm?” A particularly wet pass over his dick has him sucking in a gasp and you find you can’t look away. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and Taehyung fixates on the motion, pupils blown wide and darkening further.

“Although you haven’t picked up on my blatant flirting so maybe I should.”

That snaps you out of your reverie. “Flirting?” You hate the way your voice sounds so weak and vulnerable but it can’t be helped.

“I haven’t exactly been subtle, ___. I’ve been—fuck—I’ve been trying to drop hints for the last few weeks now, hell, the last few months but you never n-notice.” He tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth again before releasing a heavy sigh.

Your head is spinning. This Taehyung is so different from the one you’re used to—yes, he’s still the same incorrigible flirt, but where he is usually giggly and playful he is now sensual and downright sinful. You think back over the past few weeks, the lingering touches, the casual hugs. Taehyung has always been touchy but they had felt charged with something else entirely. It’s good to know you hadn’t been making that up.

“I…” You truly don’t know what to say for yourself. “I didn’t know,” you murmur, feeling very very small all of a sudden.

Taehyung immediately stills at your tone and misinterprets it as discomfort. “Oh. Oh god, ___, I’m so sorry.” Wrenching his hand away from himself, he scrambles on the bed, looking up at you with earnest, remorseful eyes. The waistband of his boxers snap shut in his frenzy and you almost mourn the loss of the desire-tinted skin. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought that maybe you…maybe you felt the same?”

You’re so taken aback by the complete 180 he’s made that your response gets caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts, This is more like the Taehyung you know, kind and considerate, and you almost forget the situation you’re in. Almost.

“N-No!” you stammer, eager to assuage his uncertainty. “I mean, yes, I-I…” You close your eyes tightly. “I do…feel the same.”

The way Taehyung looks at you after your stunted confession has your heart auditioning for a marathon and goosebumps prickling across your skin. You may as well have just hung all the stars in the sky with the amount of adoration swimming in his warm irises.

“I’m glad,” he grins brightly at you and you can’t help but smile back. You bite your lip out of habit and the smile fades from his face as he watches you.

Swallowing thickly, he rasps, “___, c-can I kiss you? Please.”

The desperation in his voice is not something you expect and a jolt of electricity zings down your spine. Dazed, you nod. That’s all Taehyung needs before he practically launches himself to his feet to grab you by the waist and pull you to him. His hand—the other hand that was not touching himself—cradles your face as he bends down to brush your noses together. A moment passes, Taehyung staring into your eyes to give you room to pull away. When you don’t, he smiles briefly to himself before surging forward to connect your lips.

The kiss is soft and warm, exchanging only the slightest bit of pressure as if you both are worried that you’ll frighten the other. Which is ridiculous, you think, since you have yet to run away. You bounce up on your toes to alleviate the reach for Taehyung and kiss him harder. He hums appreciatively as he nips at you, the sound tingling from your lips and down the length of your body. You shiver in his hold and move to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. The distance disappears between you two and you feel his arousal poking at your stomach. You break the kiss to look down between you, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Glancing up at Taehyung from beneath your eyelashes, you marvel at how positively wrecked he looks. He’s still damp with sweat but his mouth is slightly swollen from your kisses and his eyes are so blown out they’re practically black with desire. You feel yourself clench hopelessly as the blood rushes loudly in your ears.

“Can I—Can I watch you?”

You’re just as surprised as Taehyung is to hear those words leave your mouth but you’re not quite thinking straight, not when he looks like that and you finally have him in a way you never thought you would. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, and you want to savor every moment together.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to be faring much better, the request making his breathing turn heavy as he leans down to rest his forehead against yours. “Are you sure, ___? Are you absolutely sure? Because once we start, I don’t think I can stop.”

Peeking up at him coyly, you respond, “Who says I’ll want you to?”

A beat. Then, Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and practically growls at your words. His arm tightens around your waist and crushes your body to him as if trying to mold you together. You love it.

“Then sit back and enjoy the show.” His lips quirk into a lascivious smirk before crashing your mouths together once again. This kiss is different than the previous one, not one bit of hesitation lingering now. Taehyung’s tongue licks along the seam of your mouth insistently and your legs turn to jelly as you open up for him.

The kiss is over too soon but before you can mourn the loss of his lips, he pushes you down onto the bed and resumes his spot against the pillows. Tugging on his boxers, Taehyung pulls them down to discard them somewhere behind you. Heat pulses through you at the sight of his exposed flesh and your thighs rub together once again.

Taking himself in hand, Taehyung spreads his legs and begins a torturously slow pace. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.” All the air in your lungs leaves you at the confession. You can’t even think clearly, much less think up a semi-coherent response, but he doesn’t seem deterred by your silence.

“I’ve always—shit—I’ve always wanted t-to kiss that pretty little mouth of yours, ravage it until you can’t think. Your mouth, your neck, anything I could get my lips on.” Your eyes eagerly take in the sight of the milky substance beading at the tip of his cock and making his passes even messier.

“Ah, fuck, I-I wondered what kind of sounds you would make. If you would gasp and sigh or if I could make you scream.” He twists his wrist as he glides over the head of his length and he gasps out loud, his breathing rough and ragged and oh so lovely.

“I’ve thought about what it would take you to make you beg for it.”

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it and heat blooms across your cheeks. Taehyung stills for a moment before resuming with a smirk.

“Oh? Does my baby like the sound of that? Of me making you beg for my cock?” You nod, stunned and aroused beyond belief. It’s as if your brain has short-circuited and all you can think about is the fantasy that Taehyung so beautifully illustrates for you.

“Dirty girl,” he chuckles, tonguing the corner of his lips. “I should have guessed at what a desperate little thing you’d be. Asking me to stroke my dick while you watch.” He tuts playfully, eyes never leaving yours.

Breathing has become steadily more difficult and you’re acutely aware of the dampness between your legs. You want nothing more than to relieve the ache but you’re so transfixed on the beautiful man laid out in front of you that you can do nothing more than squeeze your thighs together.

“Look at you,” Taehyung’s eyes rake down your form, taking in your lust-darkened gaze and heaving chest before lingering on the apex of your tensed thighs. “I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you? So eager to take my cock that I could just slip right in if I wanted to, hm?” Again you nod, fingers twitching as you grip the sheets beneath you. He laughs lowly and the sound washes over you and settles deep in your stomach.

“God, I bet you’d taste so sweet on my tongue. I would spend hours just buried between your legs if you’d let me. Every time you prance around the apartment in those scraps you call shorts, I just want to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk. Would you like that, baby girl? Want me to sink my cock into that sweet cunt of yours? Make it mine, over and over again?”

You’re practically panting now, desperate sounds ripping themselves from your throat as Taehyung stares at you intensely, hand never faltering on his swollen erection. He seems to take pity on you because in the next moment, he murmurs a deep, “Come here, baby.”

Snapping into action, you nearly stumble over yourself in your haste to be close to him. He smiles, fondness flickering in his eyes beneath the lust at your eagerness. You crawl forward until you are settled on your knees between his legs. A feeling of shyness settles over you—absurd, given the circumstances—and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze. A hand winds around your waist and pulls you to him, forcing you to straddle one of his thighs. You feel a finger slip under your chin to coax you into looking at him. When you do, Taehyung offers a sweet smile.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” You go to nod but Taehyung clicks his tongue. “I need to hear you say it, ___.”

“Yes.” You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake. “I want you, Tae.”

The finger on your chin turns into a forceful grip as he crashes your mouths together once again. It’s messy and desperate and you can’t help the loud moan that Taehyung swallows gleefully. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and when you give it a pointed suck, he lets out an answering groan low in his throat.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he pants against your cheek, planting wet kisses down your jaw and to the length of your neck. His lips meet the collar of your shirt but before he can even ask, you’re wrenching it off your body and onto the ground.

Taehyung seems at a loss for the first time since you’d walked into his room and you revel in the swell of pride that overtakes you. He can’t help but ogle greedily at the newly-exposed skin and you feel powerful knowing that you have his undivided attention.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Taehyung places a gentle kiss right above your heart before slowly making his way lower. The gesture is not lost on you and you find yourself melting further into his touch as your hand wraps around to tangle in the hairs at the nape of his neck. You can feel two hands ghost up your sides to tease the undersides of your breasts and you inhale sharply, chest pushing up into his mouth. Taehyung breathes a laugh onto your skin before cupping the soft flesh and placing almost reverent kisses upon their stiff peaks.

“Tae, please,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the onslaught of sensations he is inflicting on you.

“Hmm, I like hearing you beg for me.” His tongue flicks against your pebbled nipple and you cry out, unable to hold back anymore. “My desperate baby girl.”

“T-Tae, ah, please don’t tease.”

“Don’t tease?” He punctuates the question with a sharp squeeze. “But you’ve been teasing me for well over a year, no? Walking around the apartment practically naked, with nothing but a t-shirt or these poor excuse for shorts.” Taehyung’s hands leave a lingering pinch before gliding down the length of your torso to the hem of your sleep shorts. Hooking a finger inside, he snaps the elastic back in place and you gasp. “No panties?” He asks in wonder, eyes fixed on your lower half.

Swallowing, you murmur, “I-I don’t usually wear them to bed.”

He lets out a throaty groan. “Fuck, you really—” He cuts himself off with another sharp exhale, head tipping backward as he squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain. Something nudges the side of your thigh and you look down at forgotten length between you, swollen and nearly purple. As if in a daze, you reach for the turgid flesh and let the tips of your fingers graze the head tentatively. Taehyung’s eyes snap open to look at you in shock and you freeze.

“Do that again. Please.”

You can hardly deny him when he looks so fucked out beneath you and your hand begins a tentative pace, stroking his dick like you had witnessed him do earlier.

“That’s it, atta girl,” he groans into your shoulder, kissing the skin almost absentmindedly. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your stomach plummets at his words, inner muscles clenching almost painfully. You’re so turned on your shorts are most likely unsalvageable but seeing Taehyung so wrecked and because of you makes it all worthwhile.

Keeping up the pace on his cock, you don’t even notice your hips begin to lower onto his thigh and rock down against him until he sits up from where he’d begun to slouch in pleasure, leg knocking up into your dripping heat.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you, grinding on my thigh like that.” His words send your heart stuttering in your chest. “Your poor little cunt has been neglected, hm? You’ve been such a good girl for me, stroking my cock and getting me ready. I think you deserve a reward.”

Taehyung grips your hips with bruising force and helps you grind harder onto his leg. The drag of your shorts against your swollen clit is a little too harsh but the sheer dampness of the fabric makes the glide much easier.

“I can feel you dripping onto my leg. You’re soaked, baby.” You’re delirious at this point, incoherent noises spilling from your lips as you work yourself over Taehyung’s thigh. It’s not long before you feel the pleasure mounting within you, hips pistoning back and forth even faster.

“That’s it, baby girl. Use me. Make yourself cum on my thigh. Get yourself nice and ready for my cock.” His hands run soothingly across your skin, sending your nerves on fire. You whine as you feel your orgasm approach with each pass of your hips.

“Come on, babe. Give it to me. Let me feel you cum all over me.”

With a strangled cry, you buck against Taehyung uncontrollably as you finally release all over his leg. You curl into him, hands tangling into his hair and tugging in order to keep yourself grounded. Your hips gradually slow as you ride out your high and you find it a struggle to catch your breath. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, letting the aftershocks wash over you.

“Oh, ___,” Taehyung murmurs in wonder. Almost sheepishly, you peek up at him from beneath your eyelashes to see him staring at you with such unadulterated reverence and want that your heart skips a beat. “You did so well, baby girl,” he rasps, lips ghosting over your face tenderly.

Face warm, you try to redirect the attention to him and begin placing gentle kisses along the length of his neck. Taehyung tilts his head back, eyelids fluttering prettily at your ministrations. Smirking to yourself, you trail your hand teasingly down the length of his chest to make your way down to his dick but he stops you with a firm hand around your wrist. Before you can even open your mouth to question him, he’s already flipped you over onto your back.

“Hmm, still so eager for my cock.” He nips playfully at your bottom lip, laughing when you move to chase him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re getting there. I have to get you ready first.”

Two of his fingers brush the swell of your mouth and you open immediately to take them in. Taehyung inhales sharply as you give them a pointed suck, eyes narrowing slightly to let you know that you will certainly pay for that later. The thought sends a shot of arousal to your core.

Taehyung removes his fingers and wastes no time in bringing them to the apex of your thighs. He makes quick work of your soiled shorts and suddenly, he’s all you can feel. A single digit swipes the length of your slit to circle around your clit, eliciting a hiss from the both of you.

“Oh, baby, you’re so wet,” Tae groans, in a trance. “All for me.”

He wasn’t really speaking to you but you nod anyway. “Yes, Tae. All for you.”

Eyes snapping to yours, he sinks one finger into your weeping heat and watches your face for any signs of discomfort. You tense slightly before relaxing and sending him a reassuring smile as a signal that he can continue. He pumps his finger in and out, letting you get used to the sensation before gently slipping in another. Scissoring the digits, Taehyung furrows his brows and bites his lip as he forces himself to be patient.

You, on the other hand, are having a much harder time controlling yourself. Soft whimpers escape you with every pump of Taehyung’s fingers. One particularly potent curl has you gasping for air as an animalistic growl tears itself from your throat, hips bucking harshly upwards.

“Gah, Tae—please,” you pant, hands flailing wildly for something to hold onto before settling on his hair.

“Anything, darling.” Taehyung inserts yet another finger and you begin to really feel the stretch, so much that it nearly becomes uncomfortable. A small noise of discomfort makes the man above you pause but he mouths at your temple reassuringly. “I know, baby, I know. But I have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Right then, he curls his fingers just as he did before and you’re seeing stars again. He places adoring kisses along your jaw before dipping for another taste of your mouth. You eagerly accept him, opening fully to him as your hips roll along with the rhythm of his fingers.

Breaking away, you pant, “I’m ready, Tae.”

“Are you sure?” Looking deeply into your eyes, he must find what he’s looking for because he nods lightly and kisses you breathless. He reaches over to his nightstand and rummages in his drawer. The crinkle of a wrapper hits your ears, making your face warm slightly as the reality of the situation hits you full force. You were really doing this. The fact that the man that you’ve pined after for so long is here with you—actually likes you—is so surreal you’re not quite sure how to process it but you’ll be damned if you didn’t enjoy every second of it.

Once he has rolled the condom on, Taehyung moves upward to cup your face between his hands. “Before we begin, are you absolutely s—”

“Tae, I swear to god if you do not get inside me in the next three seconds I will flip us over and do it myself.”

Taehyung blinks before chuckling. “There will be plenty of time for that, sweetheart. But for right now…” His smile turns sinister, prompting anticipation to swirl deliciously in your stomach. “I’m calling the shots.”

He takes himself in hand and rubs the tip up and down the length of your folds. Your eyes flutter when Taehyung collects your pooling arousal, making a complete mess of you.

When he pushes in, your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. He’s big—of course he is—bigger now that he’s entering you and you can’t deny that the stretch is more than welcome. You glance up at Taehyung’s face and are pleased to see that he looks just as wrecked as you feel. He locks eyes with you, dark irises burning with lust but also something deeper. Something…soft and warm. The thought sends your heart pounding in your chest.

As he bottoms out, Taehyung makes sure to probe your face for any signs of discomfort. He doesn’t find any and tentatively thrusts into you, eyes never leaving yours as he does. You gasp, nerves tingling as a whine tears itself from your throat, soft and breathy.

“That’s it, angel,” Taehyung pants in your ear. “Sing for me. Let me know just how good I make you feel.”

You clench helplessly, reveling in the low grunt it earns from the man above you. He begins to pick up the pace, hips snapping fiercely against yours so that the only sound is the harsh slap of skin against skin mingling with your eager breaths.

“Such a tight little cunt, even after you’ve already cum once.” His voice is even raspier with the force of his thrusts and you practically keen at the sound. “I wonder how many times I can make you lose it.”

You sob, hips rising desperately to meet his. “P-Please,” you cry, unsure what it is you’re asking for but it doesn’t matter because he props himself up to get a better angle, looking down at your writhing form.

“Such a desperate little baby.” He punctuates the pet name with a particularly harsh snap of his hips and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your second orgasm rising within you, all you need is a little push.

“You know,” Taehyung begins, concentrating his thrusts to a slow roll, “I’ve always been curious about one thing.”

Before you can ask what it is, you see his hand snake between you, gliding across your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, to settle at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen of their own accord, breath stuttering as you realize the intention. Taehyung’s eyes hold a silent question and you nod, albeit a bit desperately, prompting him to wrap his long fingers steadily around the lowest part of your neck.

“Fucking filthy,” he whispers in awe, gaze alternating between your face and the sight of his hand wrapped around your pretty neck. He thinks he could watch this forever. Squeezing experimentally, Taehyung watches with utter delight at how quickly you fall apart under his grip. Your hands scramble to claw at his arm, not to pull it away but to keep him locked in place.

“Poor baby just wants to be choked and fucked senseless, is that it?” You nod jerkily, pleasure fogging your mind and making you delirious. You couldn’t talk even if you tried but the way your hips buck up into his needily tell him all he needs to know.

“So honest,” he chuckles, increasing the pressure slightly. “Good girls get what they want.” Taehyung pulls his hips back, so far that only the tip remains inside you, before snapping back in full-force. The pace he sets is brutal and you can feel his hip brushing relentlessly against your clit.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, stomach tightening as a particularly well-timed thrust has you seeing stars. “C-Close.”

“Is baby girl gonna cum?” You nod frantically, eyes focusing and unfocusing on his face. “Come on, baby. Give me one more. I know you can do it. My desperate. Little. Slut.”

Taehyung tightens his grip even further and that’s the end for you. A scream lodges itself in your throat as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, sending you spiraling into the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in a while. Taehyung releases his hand from your neck abruptly, the rush of air prolonging your pleasure to the point you think you might pass out.

Above you, you hear Taehyung groan gutterly at the vice-like grip your walls have trapped him in. “Fuck, princess, I can feel you squeezing. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Still breathless, you fight against the fog clouding your brain. “Please, Tae. Cum inside me, please. I-I want it so bad.”

“Such a filthy little thing,” he stutters, breaths sounding labored in your ears as he gets closer to his own climax. “Gonna f-fill you up so good. Make this cunt mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, tightening your muscles one last time around him. That seems to be the end for him because before you know it, Taehyung is moaning into your shoulder.

“All. Fucking. Mine,” he growls as he snaps his hips, once, twice, before stilling inside you.

It seems to last hours but Taehyung eventually collapses onto his forearms, careful not to crush you under his weight. You both take a minute to catch your breath, enjoying the feeling of closeness that follows. Eventually, he pulls back, carefully slipping out of you to tie off the condom and toss it in the wastebasket. You wince but relax immediately after, snuggling further into the soft down of his comforter.

Taehyung smiles adoringly as he makes his way back to the bed, heart flipping at how cute you look in his bed. Almost as if you belong there. He hesitates as he gets to the edge, fearing for a moment whether or not it was alright to join you. Those fears are put to rest as you blink sleepily up at him, arms tiredly reaching for him. Relieved, he snuggles in next to you and gathers you in his arms. It’s silent for a moment as you both enjoy being wrapped up in each other.

“Since when?” you finally break the silence, tracing mindless patterns across his chest.

Taehyung inhales sharply. He knows exactly what you mean. Still, he feigns ignorance. “What?”

You close your eyes for a moment, burying your face further into his chest. “Since when have you liked me?”

“Since when have you liked me?” he shoots back and you pinch the skin on his ribs. He yelps before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“I asked you first,” you whine, risking a glance up at his face. Taehyung is already staring down at you fondly, warm gaze melting into your own.

“Since the very first moment,” he whispers softly. You almost laugh, except his face is deadly serious. It’s suddenly hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. You stare at him in wonder—the delicate brush of his eyelashes against his cheek, the soft sweep of his sweat-dampened hair over his forehead, the gentle curve of his lips as he smiles at you. You clear your throat, glancing away as a pleasant warmth settles over your cheeks.

“That’s not an answer.”

He laughs breathily in your ear and you fight a shiver. “Okay, okay. Well the first time I realized it was the day you had come back from your shift after you had switched managers.”

You balk. “Are you serious?” You remember that day. Management had decided to move your favorite supervisor over to the men’s department while you remained stuck in shoes. The new guy was awful—condescending, incompetent, and downright unpleasant. You had come home that day with three different bottles of wine and all the take out you could afford and practically forced Taehyung to drink with you and listen to your misery. The guy was eventually fired but the whole experience had left you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

Tae chuckles as he thinks back to that night. “Yes, I’m serious. You were about halfway through the second bottle and were practically screaming curses at the guy. It took you all of 30 minutes after dinner to fall asleep right there on the couch, somehow still complaining about that dickwad.” You snort, hand shooting up to cover your face in embarrassment. “As you talked, I realized…I could listen to you forever. And then you fell asleep, cuddling so cutely into my shoulder, and I knew I was a goner. Even though you snore.”

Your eyes, which had started watering at his heartfelt confession, widen before you regain your composure enough to hit his chest. “I do not snore.”

Taehyung winces playfully, knowing full-well that you don’t but enjoying teasing you all the same. “So, yeah. I’ve liked you for a while. And I had an inkling you felt the same.”

“Oh, yeah? What gave it away? The fact that I practically hopped on your dick?” you tease.

“Well it certainly didn’t hurt.” He winks at you and you have to stifle the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. “But it was little things. Like how you’d blush at a compliment or if I hugged you just a bit too long. I couldn’t be sure though. Not until tonight, I guess.”

“Well,” you shift upwards, his confession instilling a confidence in you that you hadn’t known you possessed, “in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear: I like you very, very much, Kim Taehyung.”

He’s silent for a single, nerve-wracking beat before the most brilliant smile lights up his face and for the second time that night, you find yourself breathless.

“And I like you very, very much, too, ___.”

Taehyung kisses you then, slow and sweet, and you’re left thinking that you never want to be anywhere else.

#bts #bts smut #bts taehyung #bts v #taehyung #taehyung smut #v #v smut #bts imagine #taehyung imagine #v imagine #bts v imagine #kth fic #bts fics #taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader fic #taehyung x reader imagine #my writing

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ididntneedanewfandom · 3 years

Text

BakuDeku Winter Week 1 - Reparations

"I'm home."

There's no reply to Katsuki's words. Granted, they were quiet enough that they might have gotten lost under the music playing softly in the living room. It's been a long day and he's too tired to even speak at his usual volume. The 'heroing' part of the day went fine; it's filling out forms afterward that completely fries his brain. He thought he was done with useless paperwork when he graduated from U.A.. No such luck. And to top it all, the unseasonable spring heat has been horrendous. It's helpful for his quirk, sure, but after a point it's just oppressive.

He's late enough that he'd have expected dinner to be waiting for him, or to have received a request from his nerd to pick up takeout on the way home. But there are no yummy smells to greet him--not even burnt ones as sometimes happen--and it looks like if he wants food he'll have to work on that himself. Any other night it'd be fine, but he's tired enough that the prospect isn't all that appealing.

Although...

That deep-seated tiredness seems to melt away when he walks into the living room to find Deku reclining on the couch with his back to the armrest and one of his notebooks propped up on his raised knees. He's wearing that too big, slightly misshapen wool sweater in All Might's costume colors, the one Katsuki always teases him about. How he can bear to wear that warm thing in this weather, Katsuki has no idea.

"Used to be, you'd be all over me when I walked in the door," Katsuki says with a mock-wounded look as he approaches the couch. "I guess the honeymoon phase is over, huh?"

Deku blinks those big eyes up at him a couple of times.

"Oh, hi Kacchan," he says with a small smile. "I didn't hear you come in."

Katsuki snorts. That much was obvious. Climbing over the end of the couch, he crawls up to Deku, pushing his knees apart to settle between them, unceremoniously dropping the notebook and pen he takes from Deku to the floor.

"Hey, wait, I was--"

Katsuki silences what was coming next by pressing his mouth to Deku's. He suddenly feels a lot better, but there's still room for improvement.

He lifts his mouth and body off Deku's just enough that he has room to tug at the sweater to get to the delicious, warm skin beneath.

"Kacchan, please be careful," Deku mumbles.

"Careful about what? You're not as breakable as you used to be."

Even with Deku helpfully lifting his hips to free the bit of sweater stuck under his ass, Katsuki has to work hard to get it off him. It's caught underneath him, but one last tug--

"What... What was that?”

Deku sits up properly now, dislodging Katsuki from his lap even as he reclaims the sweater from him with shaky hands, a steady stream of "No, no, please no" rising from his lips.

"What's gotten into you?" Katsuki asks, frowning.

"It felt like..."

He falls silent as his fingers find the large rip on the back, longer than Katsuki's hand, multiple strands of frayed wool hanging loose. His expression is one of pure grief; Katsuki's stomach twists unpleasantly.

"I asked you to be careful," Deku murmurs, and Katsuki knows that tone of voice. Years ago, it'd have been accompanied by tears. Deku doesn't cry so much anymore... But it doesn't make things any better when he's really upset. He just clams up, and fuck knows what Katsuki can do to fix it when it happens.

"It's just a cheesy old sweater, " he mutters. "I'll get you one from my merch line. Better quality and better colors."

His pointed look dares Deku to protest that--they once spent a very pleasant night arguing about costume colors in between rounds of fucking, and Katsuki wouldn't mind a repeat. But when he crawls back up Deku's body again, when he slides a hand over Deku's ridiculously tight abs, Deku slaps his hand away and shimmies out from under Katsuki until he can stand, still clutching the mangled sweater.

"It was Toshinori's," he says in a cold voice, glaring at Katsuki.

It's so rare to see Deku direct actual anger toward him that Katsuki's old defenses go back up instantly. Stinging words fall from his lips before he even knows he's speaking.

"Stealing from other people's closets? And here I thought you only stole my clothes. I guess I'm not that special, huh?"

Deku's gaze hardens just a little more, and Katsuki almost expects lightning to start coursing over his body. His voice is cold enough that it could put IcyHot's quirk to shame.

"He gave it to me. It was sample merch that never got mass produced because it was handmade and too complicated to bring to market. He kept it because he said it fit him in both his forms. He thought I'd get a kick out of having it in my collection, so when he was cleaning up his things before ... He gave it to me. And you just ruined it when I asked you to be careful. But it's not like you've ever cared about my stuff anyway, is it?"

It hurts.

It hurts because it's true--or was true. Watching Deku walk away, listening to his heavy feet and the banging of their bedroom door, Katsuki can't help but remember other instances when he broke or destroyed Deku's things just because he could. The fact that today it was an accident doesn't make it any less his fault.

Katsuki groans and runs a hand over his face. He really fucked up.

He'd like nothing more than to follow Deku and not let him walk away from him--how things have changed… But then what? 'Sorry' doesn't feel like it'd be nearly enough, and Katsuki doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

Tired steps take him to the kitchen. He stands in front of the open fridge for a while before pulling out the ingredients for katsudon. He's really not in the mood to cook, but he doesn't know what else to do.

He's just about done frying the pork and already filling up two bowls when slow steps come up behind him. He glances back at Deku, who stands there in a t-shirt inscribed with the words 'boyfriend shirt', his hands in his pockets.

"I'm so--" he starts, but Katsuki doesn't let him finish.

"Swear to god, Deku, if you try to apologize I'm shoving my foot up your ass."

Deku frowns at him.

"That's what grow-ups do, Kacchan. When they say something ugly or something they don't mean, or when they do something they shouldn't, they apologize."

"And what good does that do?" Katsuki mutters as he tops the bowls of food with the pork cutlets and places both on their small kitchen table. "Words won't knit your sweater back together. Sit down."

Taking his own advice, he draws a chair and sits. He fiddles with his chopsticks until Deku sighs and sits across from him.

"Itadakimasu," he says quietly, his eyes on his food.

Katsuki grunts in reply and watches him take a couple of bites before he asks, his voice tight and low, "Can it be repaired?"

Deku shrugs a little, and briefly looks up.

"I doubt it. It's a big rip. It's my fault, I noticed a loose bit of wool before and I didn't do anything about it. I should have fixed it then."

And it's just so completely <i>Deku</i> to take the blame for something that wasn't his fault that Katsuki doesn't know whether he wants to kick him or kiss him. In the end, he lightly kicks his shin under the table, and when Deku glares up at him, he mumbles, not quite meeting Deku's eyes even as his cheeks heat up, "'M sorry. For ripping your sweater and for what I said."

Deku's foot finds his again for something that feels more like a caress than a kick.

"The food's delicious," he says softly. "Thank you."

And Katsuki knows he's forgiven--just as well as he knows he doesn't deserve to be. Not yet.

Seven months later

This year again, they set up a Christmas tree.

All right, so Izuku sets up a Christmas tree while Kacchan sits there and watches. At least this time he doesn't say it's a silly tradition, though he did insist that Izuku only set it up the night before Christmas. Seeing how busy they've both been lately, Izuku doesn't think he'd have found the time to set it up sooner regardless.

And besides, Kacchan never said when it's got to come down...

Izuku just likes the lights twinkling when the room is dark at night. And he likes finding hero-themed ornaments to hang from the branches. He has four All Might ones on there, each in a different costume. He doesn't despair of finding one for EraserHead someday. He has a Froppy one and a Uravity one--they're not licensed merch, just handmade figures created by a fan he found online. He's got an official Shouto ornament--well, really it's a collectible figure meant to sit on a shelf, Izuku just looped a bit of string around Shouto's outstretched hand... and he makes sure to hang it way in the back, so Kacchan won't roll his eyes and pout every time he looks at the tree.

There's also a licensed Dynamight ornament on there, and Izuku makes sure to put it front and center. Kacchan absolutely loathes it, because whoever sculpted it gave him a smile--a nice, soft smile, the kind of smile Izuku is the only one lucky enough to receive. Which is why Izuku loves it. And why he bought seven of them, the replacements stashed in a secure place just in case this one 'mysteriously' disappears.

After hanging up another handful of ornaments--they're minor heroes, but Izuku has had the chance to work with each of them--he stands back to admire his work. A little behind him, Kacchan grabs a fistful of his t-shirt and pulls until Izuku, laughing, stumbles back and into his lap. Kacchan's arms immediately wrap around him, holding him where he is--not that Izuku has any other place to be.

"What do you think?" he asks happily, watching the multicolor lights blink on and off randomly.

Kacchan grunts. "Don't think I didn't notice you hiding Candycane in the back. You should put a real candy cane on there, it'd look nicer."

Clucking his tongue, Izuku taps the thigh underneath his own.

"Be nice," he admonishes. "Or I'll put two of yours on there."

A huff against the base of his neck sends shivers down Izuku's spine.

"It doesn't need another one of me on there," Kacchan mutters. "But it could use one of you."

Izuku wouldn't mind, but his agency isn't like Kacchan's. They don't really do merch there--which Izuku is fine with, he agrees with his boss that the important part is to be a hero, not to sell stuff, and he's about to remind Kacchan of that when something small and green dangles in his peripheral vision. With some difficulty, he lifts his eyes from the tree and looks at...

Himself.

Or, well, a version of himself.

The figure dangling from Kacchan's fingers on a silver string is just three or four inches tall, but the details on it, from the costume to the pose to the expression on the face, are all exquisite. Whoever sculpted this--is it clay? It looks like glazed clay--did an awesome job.

And gave Izuku an absolutely feral expression.

Izuku doesn't know whether to laugh or squeal or just turn around and kiss Kacchan.

"It's a little Deku!" he exclaims, then laughs as he takes the figure in his hands. "A really angry little Deku!"

"Bet he's angry because Dynamight has been hanging in that tree with all these extras without him. You should put him up there."

Izuku is happy to do so, but not before turning In Kacchan's lap and stealing a kiss... or maybe even two.

Then he practically bounces to the tree and carefully hangs up his figure next to Kacchan's. They're the same size and fit perfectly together. It makes Izuku wish they'd get to fight side by side more often. Maybe some day, he thinks wistfully, they'll open an agency together. They've talked about it a few times, but they're still rookies, barely out of school, and while they technically <i>could</i>, they both agreed it was too soon.

"I love my present, Kacchan," Izuku says as he turns back to his boyfriend. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kacchan says, "but it's not your present. This is."

His fingers drum on the top of the plain white box that definitely wasn't next to him on the couch just a second ago. Izuku tilts his head, wishing one of his quirk was X-ray vision or something. His fingers itch and he doesn't dare take a step forward.

"Do you want to put it under the tree with yours?" he says softly.

Kacchan shakes his head.

"Come here," he says. "Open it."

Izuku doesn't move.

"But Christmas is only tomorrow," he protests, his voice sounding weak even to his own ears.

Kacchan's lips stretch on a wicked grin. "Have it your way. I'll open it, then, and keep it for my--"

Before he can finish or slide his fingers under the edge of the box, Izuku plops himself back down on his lap and draws the box onto his knees. Laughing, Kacchan encircles his waist with his arms again and rests his chin on Izuku's shoulder, watching as he lifts the top of the box and reveals a familiar pattern and colors: All Might's costume.

It takes a good two or three seconds before Izuku recognizes the equally familiar ridges of knitted wool. His breath catches in his throat and he very slowly, very carefully lifts what he knows is a sweater out of the box.

It's his sweater. He knows it is, because there's a small, black spot of indelible ink near the collar; it was already there when Izuku got it.

It's the sweater he's kept in the bottom drawer of his dresser for the past few months, unable to wear it anymore without aggravating the rip but unwilling to put it away for good.

But when he turns it around, the rip is gone. And if Izuku didn't know exactly where to look, he probably wouldn't notice the repaired area. Everything matches, from the color of the wool to the pattern of the knitting. The only thing is that the wool seems a little newer in that area, less fuzzy than the rest, but that's only because Izuku knows what he's looking at.

"Kacchan," he breathes, but doesn't know what else to say.

"Is that all right?" Kacchan asks, his voice tight. "I mean, I know I should have asked first before touching your stuff, but then it'd have ruined the surprise."

"It's..." Izuku's throat feels too tight. He clutches the sweater to his chest. "It's perfect. Thank you."

After Kacchan kisses the back of his head, he manages to ask, "But... how? I looked for shops that repair knitted things but I didn't find anything."

Kacchan mumbles something; Izuku isn't quite sure he hears right. "You... what?"

"I learned to knit," Kacchan repeats a little louder, sounding embarrassed of all things. "My parents work with this old woman sometimes, she knits samples of their designs for them and then they have factories recreate the stuff. I asked her if it was fixable, and when she said yes I asked if she'd teach me how. I wanted to have it ready for your birthday but that shit took longer than I expected. I just finished last week."

Izuku understands all the words individually but he struggles to make sense of them all together. Shifting on Kacchan's lap, he turns to look at him, and is surprised to find him red-faced.

"You learned to knit?" he asks, unable to keep an edge of awe from his voice.

"I messed up your sweater," Kacchan mutters. "Wanted to fix the damn thing." Rather than looking at Izuku, he rests his forehead against Izuku's collarbone and talks against his t-shirt. "There's a lot of stuff I can't fix, but that, at least--"

Izuku has heard enough. Holding the sweater close with one hand, he cups Kacchan's face with the other and kisses him within an inch of his life. Soon, Izuku is wearing his sweater again. The lights of the tree keep twinkling, but Izuku only has eyes for Kacchan.

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drabblily · 4 years

Text

goodbye - nishinoya x reader

pairing: nishinoya yuu x gn!reader

genre: angst

warnings: i say the word fuck like once, mentions of cheating, angst

word count: 1273

synopsis: nishinoya promised everything to you, one of the promises being that he wasn’t in love kiyoko shizimu anymore. looks like he broke a promise.

author’s note: i feel like everything about this is low quality but i still wanna post it 🥵🥵🥵👍👍

its just playful flirtation. he doesnt feel that way anymore about her. he promised.

if your boyfriend could read your thoughts at this moment, he’d probably laugh loudly and reassure you that you were just overthinking as always before pressing a kiss to your lips; after all how could he still be in love with the girl he was pining after for his entire time as a highschool student? silly, right?

so why did your stomach twist in pain to see nishinoya with his arm around the living embodiment of perfection, kiyoko shimizu? how whenever she entered the bar, your lover immediately gravitated towards her, a large grin plastered onto his face and quickly shooting flirty comments to her?

“wow kiyoko, you look as amazing as ever!”

“you’re still single?? how is a goddess like you not taken yet!”

“you’re so perfect kiyoko! i didn’t think you could become even more so after highschool but you proved me wrong!”

“it’s your first time to this part of the city, right? you should let me show you around!”

your grip on your drink tightened with each passing sentence. but they were just friends, right? you had nothing to worry about. nishinoya was always faithful to you, he gave you more than enough love, so you were just overreacting, right?

yet you couldn't help yourself as your gaze traveled over their bodies from across the room, noticing how his hands fit perfectly on her small pretty waist, as if the gods personally created her for him. they fit together like a puzzle and you hated it. you couldn’t help but hear as they giggled with each other, reminiscing on old memories from their volleyball club days. seeing how he stared at her with those puppy dog eyes that were filled with adoration and love, you wondered.

had he ever looked at you like that? like you were the only person in the room, like you were the stars to his galaxy, like you were his soulmate?

a bitter taste suddenly filling your mouth, you set down your drink and left to the restroom to clear your mind. when you got there, you looked up at the mirror in front of you, setting your hands down on the slightly wet countertops and letting a shaky sigh escape you. your e/c eyes roamed about your appearance in your reflection, comparing everything about yourself to her.

you raised a hand off the counter, reaching up to trace your curves and dips, focusing on all your imperfections. you smiled pathetically at yourself, you knew she was better. he knew she was better, his actions clearly showed who he preferred to be around. hell, anybody could tell you that you didn’t stand a chance against her.

and it broke you. you felt your heart crumble slowly, drawing in a shaky inhale to compose yourself. no. this was silly. he loves you and you only, he told you he did multiple times.

you forced a smile onto your face, trying to convince yourself as you lift yourself off the counter and start to make your way to the door. you'd talk to him about when you got to your shared apartment, after all, communication is key as they say!

finally, you felt yourself relax, placing your hand on the doorknob to open it before you heard a familiar voice, making your heart drop right back down and your anxiety spike.

“what happened to y/n? didn’t you enter a relationship with them?”

“no worries, kiyoko,” you heard your boyfriend giggle drunkenly, “we broke up a while ago. now, can i please kiss you?”

you felt your breath hitch, your body freezing up at his words. as far as you knew, you and nishinoya were very much together. or...at least you thought you were. weren't you?

you heard a small thud against the bathroom door making you flinch, of course you knew where the thud came from. and you could picture it too. you could practically see your short…”boyfriend” dominantly grabbing this goddess of perfection by her hips and pressing his lips to hers passionately.

and oh fuck, that hurt to think about. tears immediately started streaming down your face at a rapid rate while you desperately grasped onto your chest in pain. you leaned against the door, a choked sob leaving your throat.

to think that the only thing separating you and your unfaithful so-called soulmate was a door, one that you could so easily open and stop if you wanted to.

and so you did.

you forcefully tore open the door, not daring to look at his surprised face before muttering out a small “excuse me” and pushing past the two of them. you felt your feet move faster towards the exit of the bar, now at a speedy walk.

exiting the establishment, you marched down the dark sidewalk, the cold weather bringing a chill to your body. not like you could feel it. you didn’t feel anything. you just felt numb.

“y-y/n! wait! it’s...it’s not what it—stop walking away! let me explain!!” you heard noya call out urgently, his sharp and fast footsteps loud when he reached you, grabbing onto your wrist and turning you around to face him.

“y/n…” he panted out, his lips tinted a faint shade of red from her lipstick, “please. it’s not what it looked like. i promise.”

bitterly, you scoffed, snatching your arm away, “you promise? j-just like how you promised you didn’t love her anymore? just like h-how you said you’d alwa-ys stay faithful to me?” you hated how pathetic you sounded, stuttering out your words between cries, “because you seem to have broken a lot of promises, yuu.”

“i’m...im sorry. i was drunk, i still am! you know i would never do that to you.”

“don’t lie to me yuu...please. i just...i just want to know the truth. do you love her?”

you noticed how he hesitated, his mouth hanging open, trying to find his words, “y/n of course not...you know i only love—“

“do you love her.” you asked again, more intent behind your question.

“i…” his throat felt dry, like he needed to get a glass of water, “i’m sorry y/n…i can’t stop.” he stammered out, trying to reach for you again, his chocolate brown eyes tearing up as they searched your e/c ones.

you pulled away, giving him a weak smile, “thank you. for telling me the truth. so now, please...go back inside. kiyoko’s probably wondering where you are.”

nishinoya furrowed his eyebrows, “i love you, y/n.”

you leaned forward a bit, resting your cold hand on his warm cheek (he was always warm, wasn't he?), “i love you too yuu. i’ll always love you...but i can’t be with someone who doesn’t love me back. not in the way you love her.”

you took your hand away from him, your lips quivering and your hand twitching to go back to him. you turned, walking away again in silence before turning your head back to face him.

you looked at him, analyzing all his features one last time. his dark hair with the blonde streak in the front (he needed to redye that soon, didn’t he?), his plain white t-shirt and fitted jeans that complimented his small yet fit body, his silly bright shoes that definitely did not go with his outfit.

you cracked a smile at that before raising your hand up in a weak wave, whispering out your final words to him loud enough for him to hear, “goodbye, yuu.”

taglist: @igenll @noya-sannnn

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 2

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Summary: Alexys is a doctor living a life of exclusivity on Raxus, hoping to survive through a peaceful existence, concealing herself from those she believes would use her, or kill her. When fate intervenes and instigates a perilous journey she’d been desperately trying to avoid, Alex finds herself caught in the middle of two sides in both war and love.

Chapter 2 - Consciousness

Words: 3.4k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: mentions of blood and broken bones, medical procedures

Read on AO3

It was the light of morning that caused my eyes to flutter open, the hardness of the tiled floor beneath slowly recognised in an increasing ache pulsing through my body.

I was slow to move, measured actions helping to bring myself into a seated position, arms shakily holding me up at the sides. Memories of the previous evening flooded back in swift succession, along with the pain of immense fatigue that always followed the act of letting the Force do my healing for me.

Did it even work?

My hand gripped the hospital bed that his body remained slumped on and I pulled myself upwards, feet gliding along the ground under my legs until I could stand. The scene before me was still shocking, even in remembering all that happened. Eventually, I noted the even breaths seeping in and out of the pilot’s chest.

He survived the night. Well done.

The numbers on the monitor confirmed what the voice had said. Heart rate steady. Oxygen levels optimum. Blood pressure higher than it had ever reached the night before. Looking over the battered and broken man, covered in dried blood that had spilled to the bed and floor, I felt a rush of emotion break free from its cage in my chest, unleashing an irrepressible urge to cry.

I sobbed quietly, knowing it was both relief and exhaustion that the tears crawled down my face. I wasn’t really sure why it hit me so hard. I didn’t even know this man, and somehow his survival at my hands was overwhelming, bursting at the seams with a happiness I’d never experienced for a patient before.

But then I recalled what I’d done to make it possible.

Fear struck like a spark in the centre of my chest, rippling its way through my veins.

There’s no way I could explain this as a simple act of medical miracle. He’d know. Then they’d know. And everything I’d built would come crumbling down. I’d have to find a new planet, a new home, build a new clinic, leaving everything behind.

I just wanted to heal people. I didn’t want to be a part of either of their worlds, and I didn’t want to d-

A croaky moan escaped from the pilot’s lips, his eyes moving underneath the lids, struggling to open. He groaned louder, and it became clear all too quickly he was starting to feel his extensive injuries. Panic set in, realising I hadn’t had time to give him any anaesthetic or pain relief.

This was going to be a rough wake up.

A piercing whimper bellowed from his chest, startling me into focus. With the trolley at hand I wrenched open the draws in search of anything with a pain-relieving quality and prepared the med-injector with heavy fluid. He’d already started to move his limbs, presumably in a way to understand what was happening, and another strained yell echoed in the room, sending a shiver rocketing down my spine. I jammed the needle into the IV cannula port, pushing in the medicine without much of a thought to appropriate dosage.

I just needed to stop him moving.

He began hollering even harder, tears welling in his eyes as he started to thrash against the mattress. Snatching at his wrists, I slammed them back down on the bed.

“It’s okay! You’re okay! I know it hurts but you’ve got to give the painkiller time to work. I promise it’s going to be alright!”

His eyes flew open, an obvious distress burning from behind brown irises. They flickered over my blood-stained clothes, then locked into mine, pleading, begging for me to do something to take away the agony.

“I know,” I said softly, a more tender edge to my voice. “I know it hurts. I’m doing all that I can. Please just stay still. It will get better. Please.”

The pilot drew in a deep, haggard breath, his bottom lip trembling. Eventually his jaw clenched as our eyes remained fixed, a silent pact of trust hanging in the air. It took me by surprise, how easy it was to calm him, and I seized the chance to soothe him even further.

“My name is Alex, I’m a doctor,” I explained. “Your ship crashed just outside my clinic. You were hurt, badly. You fell unconscious and I brought you in here to treat your injuries.”

Such a simple explanation for the truly gargantuan effort I had performed.

I wonder if he’ll ever know how close to death he was.

It wasn’t the time to tell him now, not when he seemed so scared. There was some semblance of understanding in his features, dark bushy eyebrows furrowed in thought for a moment, only for his eyes to shut again as he withheld a pained cry. I released my grip from his right wrist, placing my hand in his to squeeze gently. An act of sympathy, something I had done many times for people in distress. Even the small movement was enough to make him yelp.

Kriff. I forgot his arm was broken.

“Sorry!” I squeaked. He was still wincing. “Let me try and fix that.”

It was obvious how wrong the angle appeared in his forearm, beginning to prepare more local anaesthetic into the injector handle. I shot the needle a few centimetres above the fracture, the pilot barely flinching. Compared to the rest of his injuries it would likely have felt like nothing at all.

“I need to set this okay? Your arm is going to feel numb in a minute or two. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

His nod was measured, careful not to move anymore than he had to. I left him for a moment to find my universal cast and a sling, giving the injection a few moments to filter through his tissue and into the nerves. When I returned I could see some of the pain medication had already started to take hold, the sting of discomfort in his eyes beginning to waver, his muscles losing their tension and relaxing ever so slightly into the mattress. I prepared the cast, cutting the shapes out for his fingers and thumb, getting it ready for quick application.

“Poe,” he said slowly, his voice croaky and filled with restraint. “My name is Poe.”

I met his gaze again, trying my hardest to put forward an aura of confidence, even in my exhaustion. “Nice to meet you, Poe,” I smiled. With a lightened touch, a finger trailed softly down his right forearm. “Can you feel this?”

“A little,” he whispered. It was clearly hard for him to find his voice again. “It’s kind of… fuzzy.”

“Do you think I could try and set your arm now? I can wait if you prefer.”

“I can handle it.”

Underneath his lips I could imagine gritted teeth, clenching hard, bracing for the pain. It occurred to me then maybe this wasn’t the first time he’d broken a bone.

Without another word I pulled the X-ray unit’s arm up towards his fracture site, hoping he didn’t notice the splashes of his blood smattering the machine. Pressing down on the image button revealed a better picture in comparison to the absolute mess his femur had been. Only his radius was broken, in an even line, no splintering to be seen.

Finally something easy.

With two hands around his arm on either side of the fracture, I poised myself for a quick pull and twist. Poe’s muscles tensed underneath my grip.

“Just try to relax, it will make it much easier,” I insisted.

He drew in a deep breath, and the tension released from underneath my fingertips. I’d learned in my experience not to tell patients exactly when I was going to perform something painful. Something about the surprise of it somehow made it hurt less. So with one fluid movement I pulled and rotated the bone back into place, knowing even before I shot the X-ray it would be aligned. Poe was crushing his eyelids closed, waiting for me to move again.

“It’s okay, I got it.”

His eyes opened, meeting me with a look of surprise. I’d already begun to position the cast, bending the malleable plastic to the contours of his limb.

“First try?” he marvelled. I nodded, while trying to rein in my ego. “Never had someone get it on the first try.”

I swallowed hard. “I, uh... I wasn’t so lucky with your femur.” I flicked through the previous X-rays, pointing to the multiple shots of my attempts to fix the break. His eyes widened, mouth in a small ‘o’.

“That was my leg?” he gasped, “And you put it back?”

Both of our eyes glanced to the wound on his thigh. It was closed.

But I didn’t put any bacta on it.

Poe’s disbelief distracted him from my own. What I’d done last night with my crude attempt at Force healing had managed to not only mend the life-threatening severing of his artery, but also somehow pulsed enough energy to knit his wound back together, leaving a sealed laceration where the deep hole had been. Dread filled me again, weighing down so forcefully I didn’t want to move.

How am I going to explain this?

“T-thank you. For getting the bacta into it so quickly. Must have some good quality stuff.”

Thank every particle in the universe. He suspected nothing.

I moved slightly to position myself in front of the trolley that stored evidence of the low quality bacta solution and salve I had used for his chest wound and burns, and feigned a smile of appreciation.

“Just doing my job.”

All of a sudden it seemed to hit him, the situation he was in. His questions came out in rapid fire, desperate for clarification.

“Wait, where am I? What happened to my ship? Where’s BB-8?”

He began to rise from the mattress, wincing at the many injury points as he pulled himself into an upright position on the bed. The quick movement evidently made him dizzy, as he pulled his newly casted arm onto the bed railing to stabilise a wobble.

“Woah, just hold on a minute there,” I snipped, doctor mode engaged. “You’ve still got some serious injuries that need time to heal. Nasty burns, a collection of broken bones and the remnants of a punctured lung. Now bacta can be a miracle cure but it still needs more time before you start moving around again, or you’re going to ruin all the progress I made.”

Poe looked as if he was going to argue, but as my eyes bore into his, he recoiled back into the bed, sighing from both the pain of movement and the lack of answers.

“I was in the middle of an important mission okay?” he stressed. “There are people who are waiting on me. I need to get a message back to the Resistance. To tell them I’m out of commission.”

I tensed. The thought of the Resistance coming here to pick up their injured pilot was enough to make my heart beat faster. Sure, maybe Poe didn’t suspect anything, but the likelihood of convincing force sensitive people like Leia Organa, or the scavenger girl….

Attempting to fool them into thinking I’d healed this man with a bit of brute force and bacta would be near on impossible. But I couldn’t prevent Poe from contacting anybody without arousing even more suspicion. I’d just have to go along with whatever he wanted until I could formulate some kind of plan.

“Alright, how about I get you my transmitter and you promise not to try and move until I say so?” I offered, the tone in my voice not really implying that no could be an appropriate answer.

“Sure thing doc,” he agreed.

Maker, I hate when people call me that.

I made my way over to my tech station, using the moment to give him a couple of the answers he’d been so desperate for. “You’re on a remote clinic on Raxus, about 3000 kilometres- uh… klicks, from Raxulon. Your ship… Well, I haven’t been outside since it exploded at my front door. And your droid unit… I haven’t seen.” I realised quickly how insensitive this information came out when I looked up from my rummaging to Poe’s horrified expression. He began to sit upwards again, giving even less care to his wounds, forcing me to rush back to stop him. “I haven’t checked outside yet!”

“Why haven’t you been out there?” he demanded, eyes flaming.

“Maybe because I was stuck in here saving your life? And how was I supposed to know you had an astromech droid with you?”

He huffed, seeing the logic in my question. “Can you please check if BB is okay?”

I raised an eyebrow, curious at how much emotion he was committing to this piece of equipment. All of the medical droids I’d come into contact with over the years were extremely flat personality wise. Intelligent and useful, but I’d never grown any type of attachment to them. Nothing like Poe seemed to have with this BB-8 droid.

“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll go look for the BB unit. Just please stay in bed. And… prepare for the worst.”

Underpromise, overdeliver. One of the many phrases I’d recited during my medical training. I just really hoped the latter would be the case in this situation.

The latch of the clinic door closed softly behind me, the crisp morning atmosphere somewhat refreshing for a moment or two, until I shook myself into focus to assess the completely destroyed X-wing ship consuming my vision. With sunshine finally illuminating the environment, rolling green hills of the countryside extending beyond the horizon, I scanned the blackened metal skeleton of the ship, ashes smattered all over the ground, glass and electrical wires splayed everywhere.

Well, this doesn’t exactly ignite hope.

Walking around what was left of the X-wing, I examined the surrounding area for any trace of a droid - not just the shine of metal, but the possible tracks left by a robot who was looking for its master. I walked slowly into the field behind the crash site, my eyes surveying every bit of ground, hoping to see any metallic glint that might indicate an intact droid.

Since the clinic was the only building for a few kilometres, there was hardly another structure it could be hiding behind, or lodged in. I almost wanted to keep walking, washing my hands of all of this, so I didn’t have to go back and tell Poe his obviously beloved droid hadn’t survived like he did. But another ruined machine caught my attention.

My comm-tower was flattened into nothing - steel, wiring and black plastic flattened into an artificial pancake.

Kriff, more bad news for Poe.

With my only means of communication squished there was no way any of my tech could send a signal far enough to reach the Resistance, let alone the next village over. And now I would have to make the weeklong trek back to Raxulon to get another one.

This day is kicking my ass.

With a long sigh, I ventured towards the ruined X-wing, assuming if I hadn’t found BB-8 by now, it must have been pulverised by the explosion I narrowly avoided last night. I searched the hollow structure of the ship, hoping for any scrap of metal that could be related to the droid, but it was all so black, covered in soot and melted, everything beginning to mutate into some other portion of the machine. When I skimmed over what was left of one of the wings, there was still a rounded hole I assumed BB-8 would have been housed during flights. An empty hole. There was always a possibility the BB droid could have gone searching for help beyond my clinic, but again, there wasn't a trace of movement in the dirt track leading away to the nearest village.

I think it’s time to be the bearer of bad news.

I extricated myself from the mangled ship, looking back towards the front walls of my clinic, noticing now the remnants of the explosion that had left countless dark stains over the light blue paint, along with a few cracks and impact points where metal had hit the cement. The bushes I’d planted a few months ago in time for this planet’s version of spring had been scorched, most of the green overtaken by grey and black soot. On closer inspection, it became obvious one had been split in half, the edges of leaves opening up to a large gap.

I quickened my pace and kneeled in front of the jumbled shrub, my hands diving in to push burnt leaves out of way, finally discovering a large metal ball of orange and white leaning on the blue concrete wall. A little cracked and dirty, but seemingly intact.

Oh wait, where’s the head?

Scurrying around on my hands and knees, I felt around the bushes once more, moving along the line of the wall. The twigs were scraping against the skin of my arms, but I was too excited for the possibility of some good news that I ignored the sting they caused.

Unexpectedly my hand struck something hard, pushing the stiff lower branches out of my view to find a domed head dug into the ground. Picking it up, I brushed away some of the dirt, surveying for any obvious damage. Its antennae was crooked, a few deep scratches slicing the metal, but it all seemed fairly superficial. With the head in hand, I strode back to the body unit, beaming with the thought I could ease even a little bit of Poe’s worry.

My delight was swiftly dissolved when setting the pieces together. I’d assumed the magnet would hold and the droid would spring back to life. Instead, the head slipped straight off, sinking into the ground once more with a muffled thud.

Yeah, that seems about right.

“I have good news and bad news,” I declared sheepishly as I walked into view of Poe, lugging in a separated BB-8. His face burst into an illustration of relief, then confusion as his brain finally registered the image of his dear friend separated into two pieces, and lifeless.

As I placed the metal components onto the hospital bed at the side of Poe’s leg, he looked up at me. “This is the bad news right?” His hands tentatively checked over the BB unit, attempting what I had done not minutes ago, and watched the head piece slide back over the metal ball and dive into the mattress.

“Um… Actually… This was meant to be the good news,” I grimaced. “The bad news is that my comm-tower was completely flattened by your ship. None of my transmitter tech is going to be able to send out any messages until I can get another one built.”

Poe’s jaw clenched, and I only noticed now the dark stubble that glittered the lower half of his face.

“And when would that be exactly?” he queried sharply. I didn’t like the tone of his voice.

“At least another week if I left now. But I can’t leave you like this, you’re still in critical condition.”

It was obvious he was hiding his frustration, hands scrunched into balls. “They can’t wait that long.”

I scrambled at any answer that might settle him. “I mean, maybe some of the villagers could help, but there’s no guarantee-”

“Then get them to help!” he exploded, making me step back. At seeing the startled look on my face he softened, realising the severity of his demand. “I’m sorry, but this is just… so important. I know you’ve already done more than I could have ever asked of someone, but I still need more of your help. The fate of the galaxy depends on it.” His eyes glistened with hope, a silent plea, sending a cold wave of unease down my spine. He held a bandaged arm out, hand open, reaching toward me.

I didn’t want to be a part of this. It was exactly what I had run from for so long. Even now the immediate urge was to bolt out the front door, leaving behind this stranger who could unravel everything I’d built.

But there was something about the expression on his face, the desperation in his eyes, calling out to me. I was all he had right now. I was his only lifeline to put him back on whatever journey he had been travelling before fate made him, quite literally, crash into me.

“I mean, if the fate of the galaxy depends on it…” I mumbled, placing my hand tentatively in his. “Okay. I’ll help you get back home.”

Next Chapter

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 25

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to give you a gift, but things don't go the way they should.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: N/A

AO3

That night, you didn’t do more with Bucky than make out in your bed, probably because you were so warm and comfortable. Embarrassingly enough, you started to doze off. The day had been exhausting, physically and emotionally, and you were only human.

Bucky said he didn’t mind, and in fact, was more than fine with being intimate without always having sex. Thinking back on his history, on all the things that had been done to him that you’d only seen a sliver of, it made perfect sense and eased your guilt. You knew you should never have to feel guilty for not having sex, but it was something that had been ingrained in your head and was hard to get rid of.

Suffice it to say, getting to snuggle in bed was a treat for you both. You planned to get a bit more handsy after you woke up, but it was your last full day at the house, and your mother wanted to spend one-on-one time with you.

Bucky waved off your apologies with a smile, saying he wanted to get some quality alone time with Honey, anyway. After admitting defeat that the dog was going to steal your boyfriend, you went on errands with your mom and didn’t return until the sun had set. You frowned at the time as if it had personally robbed you.

You loved spending time with your mom, even as you skirted around discussions of “Jacob” and the future, a topic you would eventually have to tackle. You didn’t want to think about it. Not yet.

Returning to Bucky, seeing his eyes light up from where he was on the couch, a sleeping Chihuahua in his lap… it hit you hard. This was what you wanted. Your heart ached like a knife slowly twisting in your chest. This was what you wanted, but it came with a high price for both of you and made the future so much more tenuous.

After the last dinner with your family, cheerful and eating the last of the Christmas leftovers, you retreated upstairs, Bucky at your heels. Some of your inner pain must have bled through, because once the bedroom door was closed, he took your hand and squeezed it.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and tried on your bravest smile.

“Nothing. Just… sad we have to go back, I guess.”

Bucky’s eyes softened and he said, “C’mere,” before gently pulling you against his chest. You sighed into his embrace, closing your eyes as you breathed him in. Some of the weight lifted off your heart, eased by his warm touch.

“This was… wonderful,” he said into your hair, a low rumble. “Better than I deserve, but I’m selfish enough to take it. Best Christmas I’ve had since… since I was back home. Thank you, sweetheart.”

You buried your face into his shoulder, letting out a whimper as your face burned. That pet name was going to be the death of you.

Bucky only chuckled and rubbed your back.

“And I wanted to thank you properly,” he said. “Something… more meaningful than just a nighttime flight.”

“Oh, no, Bucky you don’t have to do all that.”

He pulled you back and met your eye. There was something sad in his smile.

“I want to do this.”

Bucky drew his shoulders up and took a breath as if bracing for something. He released your shoulders and looked… to the closet.

“I want you to see what happened that day. The day I came through the portal.”

You stopped breathing.

“I think I’m ready for it,” he continued. “And I want you to see, want you to understand that… this bond isn’t something I created on purpose.”

“Bucky…” Your voice was barely a whisper. “I… I know that. I trust you.”

He turned his eyes back to you and gave a small smile. That note of sadness was still there. You were desperate to know why.

“And your trust means a great deal to me. Which is why I want you to see what happened. Now, I can’t bring back your memories—“

The growing hope in your chest vanished.

“—but I can show you mine.”

“You… you can?”

“Yes.” Bucky stepped forward and gently took your hands, leading to you sit on the edge of your bed. Facing the closet. “Along with erasing someone’s memories, I can share my own. I didn’t know I could do it until the Ancient One showed me.”

Something hot and ugly twisted in your chest, and you looked away.

“Okay, what is that?”

“What’s what?” you asked, concentrating on a very interesting spot on the wall.

“That face. You make it every time I mention her. You’re not jealous, are you?”

Despite the clear teasing in his voice, you tensed and tried to draw back your fingers, but Bucky caught them.

“You are jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” you lied.

Bucky snorted just to show how much he believed you.

“If this works, and I don’t manage to fuck anything up, I’ll show you my memories of her. How’s that?”

You perked up. Despite your petty feelings, you were curious about the woman that had made such an impression on Bucky.

“I would like that.”

“Good. Now face me… and close your eyes.”

You did as you were told, sitting up fully on the bed so you could cross your legs before closing your eyes. For several seconds, nothing happened. Brow furrowed, you were about to open your eyes when soft, warm lips pressed against yours.

You made a startled noise as your eyes flew open, and Bucky broke the kiss and sat back, smiling toothily.

“Just kidding,” he said. “You don’t have to close your eyes.”

“Jerk.” You threw a playful punch at his arm, which he caught easily, twisting you around and stealing your leverage so you landed right into his lap, back trapped against his chest.

“Here’s fine, though.” He nosed behind your ear and gave your skin a quick lick.

Like a magic trick, you went instantly pliant in his arms, humming happily as you snuggled back against him. You went full gooey when Bucky dropped his guise and draped his wings around you, wrapping you in the world’s best cocoon.

“Now what you do need to do… is relax.” He took a deep breath, and you could feel his chest expand against your back. “Breathe slow and deep. Open your mind and quiet your thoughts.”

“Like… meditating?”

“Just like meditating.”

You closed your eyes, anyway; it would help with the whole mindfulness thing, plus most of your senses were focused on Bucky and how warm and safe you felt with him wrapped around you.

“Okay,” you said after a moment, a little bit nervous. “Now what?”

“Just keep breathing, slow and steady.” His voice was low and heavy next to your ear like some filthy kind of ASMR. “I’ll do the rest.”

Well, now you were relaxed and horny.

Oh, no. Was this how Bucky and the Ancient One would mind-meld, or whatever? Now all you could think about was some sexy sorceress sitting in Bucky’s lap and—

“You’re not relaxing.”

“S-sorry.” You took another breath to shake off the tension that had been in your hands and shoulders. “I’ll try harder.”

“You’ll try harder… to relax?”

You groaned and leaned your head back against his shoulder, earning you a kiss on the side of your head. Who knew Bucky Barnes could be such a sarcastic ass?

“Come on, you can do it,” he said, growing serious again. “Breathe in… breathe out. Relax your muscles one by one, from your head to your toes. Release all worries from your mind and open yourself to—“

Silence followed. You frowned, waiting for him to continue his instructions.

“And then what?”

He didn’t answer.

“Bucky, and then wh—“

You opened your eyes. You were no longer sitting on your bed. It was cold, the room vast and dim, and you braced your arms over your chest as you shivered.

And that was when Bucky started screaming.

Next Chapter

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