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radiantvader · 10 months ago

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Pairing : Anakin Skywalker x Jedi Master!Fem Reader

Word Count : 2.3k

Summary : In which you and Anakin are on a mission to sneak onto General Grievous' ship and capture him. Your constant banter and teasing throughout the mission frustrates Anakin, and in the end, he finds a way to let out all of his pent-up anger and frustration.

The starfighter hummed with anticipation as you and Anakin soared through the vastness of space, lightspeed blurring the stars into streaks of light, en route to General Grievous' ominous flagship. Inside the cockpit, the hum of the engines was accompanied by the low murmur of Anakin and Obi Wan discussing details about the mission. Anakin shot you a sideways glance, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“So, Master" he began, the title dripping with irony, eyes fixed on the star maps. "Any brilliant ideas on how we're going to sneak onto Grievous' ship?" you smirked while leaning back, studying the holographic blueprints you had received. "Well, Master Skywalker, it seems we have a spy to thank for these detailed plans. You see that hanger over there?" Anakin scowled at the use of the title 'Master' but kept his mouth shut, trying to avoid conflict. You reactivated the holographic blueprints and showed them to him, a smirk etched onto your face. He nodded, eyes burning with impatience and anger.

"That hanger is our way in. This is General Grievous we're talking about, so we already know that every square inch of this ship is going to be on lock. 20 droids guarding every access point are signal rotated. So once they're on the move, we only have 35 seconds until the next round of 20 droids replace them, we need to be quick. The eyes and ears are in a security room in the west hall, there are 97 motion-sensitive 8K cameras with an overlapping field of vision so there are no natural blind spots. They are always watching, always listening, blasters ready to fire. Getting through the corridors and reaching the command center is going to be easy. Now, here's where things get a little tricky, the doors to the command center have been improved, they're military-grade biometric portals made of a foot and a half of solid titanium. So we can't blow them up, we'll need to use the heat of our lightsabers to melt a hole big enough for us to go through, which might take time considering the thickness of the doors. So while I do that, I need you to cover me from the droids. Once we get into the command center, General Grievous will already be alerted to our presence and will probably have called for backup. So, the moment we enter the command center, we need to drop a smoke bomb, use the force to sense the droids, take 'em down, and then capture Grievous before the smoke clears." You explained the plan and relished Anakin's perplexed face.

"What? Not used to having a good plan? It must be an honor to be in the company of a highly intelligent Jedi with a higher rank. Perhaps some of my brilliance will rub off on you." Anakin's perplexed face dropped and his scowl deepened, his annoyance palpable. "Brilliance, huh? We'll see about that." You smirked as Anakin sassily rolled his eyes.

As you approached Grievous' ship, you used the Force to mask your presence from the patrolling droid fighters. Anakin expertly piloted the starfighter, dodging and weaving through the asteroid field that surrounded Grievous' vessel and you couldn't help but admit that despite his impulsiveness, he was a formidable pilot. "Nice flying, Skywalker" you complimented, a hint of genuine admiration in your voice. "Save the praising for after we're inside" Anakin quipped. You rolled your eyes, about to retort, but quickly shut your mouth as you approached the hangar bay. Your starfighter hovered in front of the hanger; you were waiting for the perfect moment to go in. The moment the battle droids were switching posts, you and Anakin slipped into Grievous' hangar undetected. And as the ship's bay doors closed behind your starfighter, you both breathed a momentary sigh of relief.

Stepping out of the starfighter, you and Anakin moved through the dimly lit corridors of Grievous' ship, lightsabers ignited and senses heightened. The air was heavy with tension as you encountered patrols of battle droids. You deflected oncoming blaster shots, not hesitating to take jabs at Anakin. "Careful Skywalker, wouldn't want you tripping over your own bravado." you quipped, voice laced with sarcasm. He shot you an irritated look, "I've handled tougher situations than this." Anakin muttered, deflecting blaster bolts effortlessly. "Of course you have, Chosen One" you snorted, swiftly dispatching a pair of droids with calculated strikes. His jaw clenched, but you caught a glimpse of a smirk he couldn't suppress. Your banter echoed through the metal corridors as you navigated through the labyrinthine ship. The occasional sparks of your lightsabers illuminated the path, creating an otherworldly dance of light and shadow.

As you both neared the command center, the droid resistance intensified. Waves of battle droids surged forward, blasters firing in unison. You and Anakin moved with synchronized precision, your contrasting styles weaving together seamlessly. But when you both reached the command center doors, you quickly got to work. You thrust your lightsaber into the titanium doors and hummed, pleased when the lightsaber melted through the titanium quicker than expected. You drew a decently sized circle with your lightsaber and with a powerful kick, a large circular piece of the titanium doors fell onto the floor, the command center coming into your view. Grievous, who was alerted to your presence, awaited both you and Anakin with his spinning lightsabers, surprisingly with no reinforcements.

The battle with Grievous unfolded like a chaotic dance, Anakin's acrobatic moves clashed with Grievous' relentless onslaught. Meanwhile, you circled around Grievous, strategically analyzing his patterns, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "Now!" Anakin shouted, distracting Grievous for a split second. Seizing the opportunity, you lunged forward, lightsaber slashing through the air and delivering a powerful strike that sent Grievous reeling. With a few swift moves, Anakin cut off Grievous' mechanic arms and legs.

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Returning to the Jedi Temple, you both faced the Council. Yoda and Obi-Wan listened intently as you recounted the details of the mission. Yoda's wise eyes bore into yours, assessing not just your words but the unspoken dynamics between you and Anakin. "Hmm, impressive, your teamwork is," Yoda noted, a twinkle in his eyes. "Learn from each other, you must." he continued, and Obi Wan, ever the diplomatic voice, added "Your cooperation has proven fruitful. May the Force continue to guide you both." When the debriefing concluded, you and Anakin made your way back to your quarters in contemplative silence. However, the tension lingered. You leaned against a wall in the secluded hallway and crossed your arms, a teasing smirk etched onto your face.

"Hey Skywalker, do you ever wonder what it's like to be a true master?" He clenched his jaw, balling up his fists, knuckles turning white. "I've got enough on my plate without you constantly annoying me, shut the fuck up for once." He jeered at you, but you just stepped closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper "Perhaps you're just afraid you'll never measure up."

Anakin snapped. In an instant, he had you pressed against the wall, his eyes ablaze with fury and frustration. "Enough! I don't care about official titles, I will not allow you to talk to me like that. Learn your fucking place." He seethed, his hand wrapping around your throat painfully. Yet in the charged atmosphere of your conflict, a different kind of energy simmered, a potent blend of unresolved tension and the unspoken truth. And in an inexplicable twist of fate, your shared animosity acted as an irresistible force, leading to a momentary pause that culminated in an unexpected collision of your lips—a fierce, passionate kiss born from a volatile mix of anger and desire, leaving you breathless and conflicted. Like opposing magnets pulled by an invisible force, your bodies surged together.

The kiss deepened and your breathing became ragged. As the hallway filled with your gasps and fervent whispers, you felt your resistance crumbling completely as Anakin's lips claimed yours with a hunger that mirrored your untamed passions. It was as if the world around you had vanished, leaving only the two of you entangled in the most primal of embraces. "You make me feel things I shouldn't..." you whispered, voice rough and hoarse. Anakin only responded by deepening the kiss, his lips and tongue exploring yours with a zealous intensity that left you breathless. Your bodies continued to strain against one another, their tempo growing more desperate with each passing second. Your breathing grew shallow, the only sounds in the empty hallway were the soft moans of pleasure and the frantic rustle of your clothing. Anakin, driven by an insatiable desire, reached out and grabbed your hips, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. As you continued to kiss passionately, Anakin unbuckled your belt and hurriedly undressed you, the sound of your lightsaber hitting the ground filled the hallway as Anakin tossed your attire aside with a harsh motion, his eyes never leaving yours. He was certain you could feel his heart beating rapidly.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the cool air against your skin, the sensation heightening your desire for him, nipples hardening. You reached for the fastenings of Anakin's pants, your fingers deftly unbuckling and unzipping him with ease. His erection sprang free, standing rigid and throbbing before you. He groaned into your mouth, his own hands now exploring the areas of your body that his fingers had only briefly touched. He reached between your legs, his fingers brushing against the wetness that had begun to seep through your underwear.

"Fuck" he whispered, his voice a hoarse growl, as he felt the evidence of your own arousal. You let out a soft moan as Anakin’s lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. He grasped your underwear, sliding it down your legs, his gaze never leaving yours. As the fabric slipped away, exposing your wetness to the cool air, you felt a shiver of anticipation ripple through your body. Anakin's hands traced the curve of your hips, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he guided himself towards you. He felt your warmth, your wetness, and the knowledge that you were about to be one with each other sent a surge of desire coursing through him. With a deep, shuddering breath, Anakin positioned himself at the entrance to your core.

He looked into your eyes, his own mirroring the raw intensity of your passion. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself, but right as he was about to slide in, he stopped, "Beg for it." You looked up at him with wide eyes, "What?" you asked perplexed. "I said beg for it." He smirked, toying with you. "C'mon Anakin, please... I need you..." you muttered, embarrassment seeping through your bones. "Oh come on, you and I both know that you can do better than that." He smiled mockingly, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. Tears prickled the edges of your eyes as you looked up at him desperately, considering throwing your pride away for a moment. "Anakin please, I'm begging you. I need you so badly... It hurts..." your face flushed in embarrassment and Anakin let out a pleased hum, grinning wickedly. Then, with one swift, powerful thrust, he drove himself into you.

You gasped, your eyes widening in amazement and pleasure as you felt the fullness of his size fill you, the stretch sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. "'s too big..." you whimpered when Anakin started thrusting, both pain and pleasure coursing through your veins, "Take it like a good girl and stop whining" Anakin grunted, his thrusts growing steadily more frenzied as the passion of the moment consumed you both. Your bodies moved in a symphony of ecstasy, each thrust a testament to your shared hunger and unspoken longing. Anakin thrust into you with vigor, your fingers dug into his back, the press of his hips against your clit causing you to moan softly with each stroke. Your own arousal grew, your inner walls tightening around him with every thrust, your body eager to take him deeper, to draw him in.

His tip delightfully hit your cervix, causing you to throw your head back as a moan of pure ecstasy was ripped from your throat. Your hands travelled upwards and grabbed Anakin’s hair, tugging harshly, eliciting a groan from him. “Fucking slut.” He growled lowly while his movements sped up. Anakin gripped onto your hips, roughly pulling you closer to him with each thrust. “Look at you, not so talkative now, are you?” Anakin jeered with a coarse voice, but the only response he got back was a soft mewl. “Aw, did I fuck you dumb already?” He mocked you, enjoying the way your eyes rolled back into your head.

Anakin's pace was relentless, he had a bruising grip on your hips, thrusting fast, deep, and hard into you. You could feel the pressure build in your lower belly and your walls clenched around Anakin. As his own climax approached, Anakin’s thrusts got sloppier, sweat dripping from his hair and forehead. But as he reached down to fiddle with your overly-sensitive clit, you broke. You clenched around him, letting out a sputtering moan as you came. The feeling of you squeezing around him, soaking him, was enough to send Anakin over the edge.

Heavy and ragged breaths came out of your mouths as Anakin slowly dropped you down from his arms and helped you get dressed. The silence that ensued wasn't awkward, it was tense. Both of you knowing how this could change everything.

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A/N : Guys please don't expect my writing to be perfect, I'm not a professional writer, and It'll take time for me to learn and progress. Also btw the plan in the beginning was inspired by that one scene in the movie 'Red Notice'. It's a great film, you guys should definitely watch it! Anyway, I hope you guys liked this, if I made any mistakes or if you have any tips, please don't hesitate to let me know! <3

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin smut #anakin x reader #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader smut #darth vader smut #darth vader #star wars smut #star wars #anakin skywalker #sw prequels #rots #star wars prequels #hayden christensen

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sibylsleaves · 4 months ago

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looking for something dumb to do

4k | rated E | Five Alarm Fest Day 5 | read on ao3 It’s also not unusual that the app bay is almost empty when they walk inside, save for one engine parked along the side. What is unusual is the rows of white folding chairs facing the back wall. And the archway adorned with greenery and pale pink blossoms set up beneath the loft. And all of their friends milling about the app bay, dressed up like… Like they’re attending a wedding. Buck and Eddie's wedding day doesn't exactly go according to plan.

Rain finally comes on Sunday morning. By the afternoon, the governor declares the state of emergency over. After a grueling two weeks of battling wildfires across Topanga and Simi Valley, everyone at the 118 gets sent home.

They’d been on call for basically the duration of the state of emergency, and by the end of it, they’d all been running on sweat and fumes. Buck and Eddie rinse the past two weeks off themselves—the soot, the smoke, the grim exhaustion—and stumble into the Jeep.

They’re beyond exhausted by the time they shamble into the house and drag themselves into bed. But beneath the bone-tired weariness, there’s a need to be close to each other, so Eddie rolls into the center of the bed and opens his arms. Buck goes right into them, two hundred pounds of muscle and snuggles.

He sucks in a shaky breath and burrows into Eddie’s chest. “We’re supposed to be married.”

Eddie cards his fingers gently through his hair. “Are you thinking about the wedding?”

It had been months of planning. Months of Buck and Chris driving everyone around them completely insane because they needed every detail to be perfect. The wildfires had thrown everything out the window—even if they’d managed to get the day off, their wedding venue in Malibu had to close due to the smoke.

Buck shakes his head. “After everything we’ve seen over the past few weeks…after all that devastation…I’m just glad we’re here. Everyone we love is safe in their homes. That’s all that matters to me.”

Eddie strokes his fingers over Buck’s temple, brushing his thumb over his blush-pink birthmark. He loves this man so much. And Eddie knows—has known, since the minute Buck breathlessly confessed his feelings and Eddie took his face between his hands and kissed him for the first time—that he’s going to love him for the rest of his life. “We’ll figure it out. We can still have the perfect wedding you wanted.”

(continue on ao3)

#sibyls words #posting this in the dead of night im so sorry #IT'S LATE I KNOW #fivealarmfest2024 #buddie fic

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buddie-buddie · 2 months ago

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it could be love (we could be the way forward)

Buck was in the shower when they got the call.

He’s always been a little afraid of showering on shift– afraid of hearing the klaxons ring while there’s still conditioner in his hair, afraid of having to towel off and dress at the speed of light, and all the awfulness that comes with wrestling clothes over still-damp skin. He’s afraid of the extra minute it takes him to get himself dressed and on the engine being the difference between someone else’s life and death.

He avoids it at all costs, only does it when they first get back from a call and Bobby puts them out of service for a half hour to give everyone time to clean up and grab a bite.

They’d just come back from a three-alarm fire at an office building downtown, a beast of a thing that took three stations four hours to put down. As they pulled back into the station, Buck’s bones ached and his stomach growled and there was soot covering every inch of him. He could feel it in his sweat-damp hair, could smell it every time he breathed. He figured it was clinging to the tiny hairs in his nose, was pretty certain if he blew his nose the tissue would come back tinged in gray.

He was on autopilot as he clambered out of the back of the engine, tucking his gear away and stumbling for the showers on tired legs. His bad leg was killing him. He’d woken up with a dull ache in his knee, and figured it was due to the dark, heavy clouds in the sky and the fact that the temperature had plummeted about fifteen degrees in as many hours.

He’d done his stretches and taken some ibuprofen in hopes of getting ahead of the worst of it, but it was no match for a tough shift with an unrelenting fire. The ache was bone-deep now, radiating up and down his leg with a fierceness that had Buck gritting his teeth and biting back a wince as he stepped into the shower.

He needed the fancy massage gun Maddie had gotten him for Christmas. And maybe some deep heat. The one that Eddie’s Abuela gave him, made from capsaicin from chili peppers grown in her hometown in Mexico. And maybe a nap, too.

But all of that would have to wait another three hours until shift change. For now, a shower was the best he could do.

The only thing better than peeling off his sweaty, sooty clothes was the feel of the warm spray on his back, the heat of it soothing the ache beneath his skin. He tipped his head back and let the water wash away the last few hours, all of the soot and the ash and the sweat and the grime of a job well done and a fire knocked down. It took him three rounds of shampoo until the water ran clear.

He was rinsing out the last of it when the alarm rang and he remembered.

Remembered that Bobby wasn’t here, that gone were the days of a thoughtful captain. Gone were the days of a leader who looked out for his own, a leader who cared enough about the people under his command to afford them a basic respite after all they’d just seen and done.

Gerrard was no Bobby.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since they arrived back, and yet the alarm was already ringing out with another call. Buck hurried out of the shower, toweling off and pulling a clean shirt over his still-wet head as he listened for the details.

STATION 118. HELICOPTER CRASH. 101 SOUTHBOUND. LAFD AIR SUPPORT PILOT DOWN.

His stomach dropped, his heart tripping over itself in his chest.

No. No. Please no.

He shoved down the panic rising in his throat and finished dressing, running towards the bay.

Eddie ran up alongside him. “Is Tommy–”

“–Out on air support."

continue on ao3

#ok ok ok LISTEN #i don't even know where this came from but it consumed me #“but wait ella” you will say #“don't you have a bunch of wips and sixteen (16) unfilled prompts in your inbox?”#yes yes i do #but this one got to cut the line on account of brain rot to the tenth degree #my writing #bucktommy #kinley #kinkley #tevan #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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ellephlox · 1 year ago

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Lights Out

Summary: You’re touring a haunted house with Matt, and the entire building loses power when a thunderstorm arrives. On the bright side, you’ve got Matt to lead you out (when he’s not taking advantage of your inability to see).

Pairing: Matt x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Creepy haunted house imagery, swears

The sign for local attractions on the highway was battered and scratched, bearing the words HAUNTED HOUSE — EXIT 64. Rain pounded on the windshield as you drove; it was a long seven hours from the weekend holiday you’d taken with Matt back to Hell’s Kitchen, and you were only halfway done the drive. There was obviously no way for Matt to switch off with you, so instead he kept pushing for rest stops so that you could stretch your legs from the driving, despite your assurance to him that it was okay.

You pulled into a parking spot outside the attraction, mud and dirt grinding under the tires. Once the key was out of the ignition, the silence of the engine was eerily fitting for the view of the haunted mansion in front of you, especially with the pounding of the rain on the roof.

“Wow,” you said, peering up at it. “This thing’s actually pretty big. It looks Gothic — there’s a rounded tower-like part on the left, with bay windows, I think. In the center where the roof is highest, it’s pointy and there’s a weathervane with a skull on top. The outside is painted a really ugly purple. Oh, and the decorations are awesome. They look genuine, too; gravestones, a body sticking out of the chimney, blood splattered all over the front porch. Ha. There’s even a hearse parked next to us.”

“Scary or corny, overall?”

“It looks pretty good. I’d say it’s scary but you’re here with me,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Ready?”

You paid at the ticket booth and then entered the mansion. Only once you were safely inside, far from any of the workers, did Matt drop his hand from your arm. “There’s no one else here,” he said. “Just you and me.”

You nodded at a skeleton sitting at a piano. “And Mr. Bones right there.”

Matt tilted his head. “There’s a motion sensor ahead. Probably there’s going to be a jump scare.”

“Well, it’s not a jump scare anymore,” you said, rolling your eyes. “How much of this can you sense, anyway?”

“It’s... kind of a confusing influx of sensory details. Different machines behind the walls for all the animatronics and music, weird smells coming from everything, and I can feel the shifts in air pressure when something’s moving. It’s all kind of a... bonfire of input.”

Sure enough, a vampire sprung out of a coffin moments later, and even with Matt’s warning you still flinched, heart skipping a beat when it shrieked at you. The layout of the mansion was narrow and winding; different hallways took you through a variety of different rooms and scares. Some of the sights were admittedly scary; an animatronic girl with stringy hair and an axe came flying out of the shadows, and even the floorboards and doors beside you would buckle unexpectedly as you passed by them. To your delight, one of the picture frames turned to life and even caught Matt off guard — you felt him stir slightly beside you. The path through the mansion took you up two flights of stairs, all the way to the top floor of the house.

“It’s a kitchen!” you said, admiring the decorations. “With — ew. Blood coming out of the faucet. And fingers baking in the oven.”

But Matt had his head tilted slightly towards the window. “Lightning’s about to strike,” he said suddenly, and true to his word, a massive flash lit up the entire room only a second later. The clap of thunder that followed was nearly simultaneous with the lightning, and rattled the mansion so hard that the window shook.

And that was when the mansion lost power. Everything, all at once, fell silent as though it had been muted, and you were plunged from shadowy, dim lighting into absolute pitch blackness.

“Matt?” you said uncertainly, reaching out for him and only finding empty space. The thought of all the things around you — amusing only moments ago — suddenly made your heart spike.

“Right here.” Matt grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “Any light coming in at all?”

You waved your hand in front of your eyes. “Nothing. It’s like a black hole in here. And of course we left our phones in the car,” you grumbled, shifting closer to Matt. “A flashlight would be nice.”

“No light is coming in through the window?”

“Only when there’s lightning. And I don’t think there are many windows in this labyrinth.” Gingerly you stepped forward. “This is... not fun.”

“I’m personally very offended by how opposed you are to being visually impaired.”

You frowned. “You make fun of my bad hearing all the time — which, by the way, is not bad hearing, it’s simply normal-person hearing.”

“I think it’s bad hearing.”

“We’re allowed to make fun of each other’s senses,” you continued. “That’s the most important tenet of dating someone.”

“Oh, really? Then I’m free to tell you that you’ve got absolutely terrible common sense?”

“Ha, ha. You’re so clever,” you deadpanned. “Are we out of the creepy kitchen yet?"

“Yeah.” Matt nudged you to the right. “This way.”

“Are we close to the exit?”

“No. It’s probably another ten minute walk, at the very least.”

“Lovely. Why doesn’t this place have a generator?”

“It should. This could be a huge liability. If someone got hurt and decided to sue, the owners could easily get in trouble.”

“Only someone who had to endure the trauma of a bar exam would think about liabilities when the power goes out,” you said appreciatively. “So... we’ve got two flights of stairs to go down?”

“Three. The exit’s in the basement,” Matt said. “Watch out. There’s fake cobwebs ahead of us.”

You were glad for the warning, because the revolting sensation of gossamer threads brushing against your face would have otherwise been disturbing. Lightning flashed again, illuminating the hallway, and for a moment you were face-to-face with a ghastly clown that was grinning beside you. You yelped, nearly falling backwards into Matt. Adrenaline soared through you, and you couldn’t help but squint through the darkness in an attempt to make sure the clown wasn’t moving. It was to no avail — when the lightning was gone, so was any visibility.

“Take a deep breath,” Matt said, nudging you with his shoulder. “Your heart’s going a hundred miles an hour.”

“There’s a clown, Matt.”

“And he’s made of rubber, wood, and plastic.”

Lightning flashed again, and you winced at the clown’s companion, a bloody jester gloating on your left. “Are the haunted house workers coming in to help?”

“No. There’s only one worker, and based on the way her heart jumped with the power going out, I highly doubt she’s going to walk alone into a haunted mansion with all the lights off. Careful, the hallway twists a bit right here.” Matt gently guided you to the left. You went forward reluctantly, feeling that you were about to walk into something at any second despite your trust in Matt. “And there are two steps down right here.”

“Right where?” you asked, slowing to a halt.

“Right here, in front of us.”

Anxiously you edged your toe forward, feeling for the drop of the step. “This is incredibly creepy.”

“I’ll tell you when to step. Just keep going, and step downward when I say.” Matt tugged you forward, and you resisted, moving as carefully as possible until you were down the steps.

“I don’t like this,” you informed him. “Because I know for a fact that there are probably zombies or vampires or something in here.”

“Dolls, actually.”

“Oh, God. Are you serious?”

Matt laughed. “At least, I think they’re dolls. Ceramic faces, stringy hair, small size.” He took your hand and guided it in front of you. “Here. Want to feel one?”

“No!��

“There are lots of dolls in here. And it feels... dark. Wait.” Matt’s hand suddenly held yours more tightly.

“Well, I could’ve told you it’s dark in here.”

“No. I mean... a different type of dark.” Matt was silent, and you imagined he was cocking his head.

“What is it?” you asked, squinting around as though it would suddenly help you to see the surroundings.

“Something’s moving,” he whispered. “One of the dolls.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I mean a doll is moving,” he repeated. “Wait here—”

And then he pulled his hand away from yours, lost in the blackness of the house.

“Shit!” you yelped, hugging yourself. “Matt! Don’t leave me here!”

There was a small crash to your left, and then footsteps, slow and creaking, from behind you. Holy shit holy shit fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkk—

“Matt!” you shrieked. “Come back!”

And then, you felt something behind you, and the warm exhale of someone breathing near your ear. “Boo,” Matt said, in a low voice, and you automatically swung around so quickly with your fist that you would have socked him in the face, had he not caught your wrist first.

“Shit – sorry, I didn’t mean to almost punch you—” You stopped yourself, mid-apology. “What the hell, Matt? You’re awful! How could you do that to me?”

To your indignation, he actually chuckled, sounding so damn pleased with himself that you would’ve marched away and continued on your own if you could actually see. “You know, I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever heard your heart go.”

“Yeah, because you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry.” Matt wrapped an arm around you as he continued steering you forward. “But you must have known that this was coming, sweetheart.”

“Um, no, I didn’t think I had it ‘coming’ because I thought I could trust my boyfriend to lead me out of a freaking pitch-black haunted mansion without trying to prank me like a five-year-old—”

“I couldn’t resist.”

“You couldn’t resist. Oh, well, that justifies it,” you grumbled, pushing at him again. “How much longer until we’re out of here?”

“Stairs to the first floor are right in front of us. Then we’re almost to the basement.” Matt dropped one of his hands so that it was on your lower back. “Your eyes haven’t adjusted at all?”

“I think the clouds are too thick for any moonlight to come through. And, of course, the lightning now decides to not flash at all.” You wished you could simply sense your surroundings like Matt could. “You’re amazing.”

“Weren’t you just saying I was awful?”

“No, really. I mean, the fact that you’re able to do all that you do, considering you can’t see; and me, the second I can’t see, I’m completely useless. It just makes me admire so much more the way that—”

“Stairs,” Matt warned. “Thirteen steps.”

“Thanks. But it just makes me admire so much more the way you... honed your senses, I guess. I mean, how many girls can brag that their blind boyfriend easily led them out of a haunted house with the navigation skills of someone with night-vision goggles?”

“It’s easier than you’d think.” Matt stopped suddenly, his fingers lightly raising to brush your upper arm and spin you so that your back was pressed into his chest. “Listen.”

You obeyed, falling as quiet as possible. Even this close to Matt, though, you couldn’t hear his heartbeat. “Matt, I’m not going to magically have your ability to hear well—”

“You don’t need my level of hearing,” Matt said. “Sometimes you just need to listen more closely. Hear that whistling?”

You focused. It was faint, but audible. “Yeah.”

“What’s that coming from?”

“Sounds like the wind coming through a vent.” Realization dawned on you. “Which means that there’s a wall in front of us.”

“Exactly. And did you hear that scuffle above us?”

“Yeah, that thump?” You hadn’t even paid attention to it until now. “It was probably that worker, right? Which means... we’re in the back lefthand corner of the house.”

“See? Easier than it seems,” Matt said, leaning in and kissing your temple. “You’re a natural, sweetheart.”

You smiled, feeling heat rise up your neck. “That’s really nice of you, but I know what you’re up to. You feel guilty for scaring me earlier and now you’re trying to make up for it with flattery.”

“Floor gets squishy right here,” Matt said suddenly, and you were glad for the warning as the wooden floorboards beneath your feet unexpectedly transitioned to foam. “They really went all-out with this haunted house.”

“Too bad we’re missing most of it. And... Matt, I love you for guiding me, but can we please slow down?” you said, leaning backwards to reduce the speed Matt was leading you at. “I feel like I’m about to walk into a wall.”

“Sorry.” Matt slowed his pace. “We’re almost out. You know, I’ll miss this a bit.”

“What, me being temporarily blind?”

“Yeah. Because you can’t see things like this coming.”

“Things like what—?”

But then Matt’s lips were on yours, passionate and hard, as he pressed you backwards into what was presumably a normal wall and hopefully not an upright coffin or anything gory. You made a small sound of surprise and kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Matt’s left hand cupped the back of your head, and his right groped underneath your shirt on your lower back; goosebumps ran up and down your arms.

And then, without warning, the lights flooded on, machines and animatronics beside you whirring to life. You jumped, heart skipping at the massive demon leering on the ceiling above you. Painted flames danced on the walls and a horned mannequin, eyes blinking and head rotating back and forth, grinned at you deviously. “Oh, God. We’re in Hell, I think.”

“We are? I wasn’t really paying attention.” Matt leaned in and kissed you one more time. “Your body was just a bit distracting.”

“Okay. New idea, Matt,” you said, staring at the fiery devil as it continued to sneer at you. “I see a really, really, really amazing photo opportunity. If the attendant lets me, I’m going to run and get my phone from the car quickly, then I’ll be back.”

“You’re going to abandon a blind man in a haunted mansion? How will I ever know where to go if you’re not allowed back inside to guide me?”

You laughed. “I’ll convince her to let me back in.”

And that was how, a week later, you happily received a photo print in the mail: Matt standing beside an animatronic devil, pointing at it with his thumb and smiling widely.

A/N: This is based off of a really neat haunted mansion that I visited on Prince Edward Island awhile back. Happy almost Halloween, everyone!

#daredevil #matt murdock #marvel #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #reader insert #reader #mcu #x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #fluff #flufftober #flufftober 2023

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reachartwork · 11 hours ago

Text

HOW TO SMELL AN ENTIRE APPLE: A SHORT STORY

Inspired by this post by @thatnordicguy and @anphivenas

Step #0 - Input the molecular formula for apple scent into the chemosynthesizer. Check against standard atmospheric regulations.

Step #1 - Inhale from the olfactory vent.

Step #2 - Step away in dissatisfaction, shake your head, put your hands on your hips. Purse your lips a little bit. Document discrepancy against memory file.

Step #3 - Ask Arto why he thinks real apples smell different. Listen to him talk about dirt while he mops, even though hydroponics hasn't used soil in sixty years.

Step #4 - Adjust temperature to match hydroponic bay specifications. Modify humidity levels to Earth-standard apple growing conditions. Calculate optimal dispersal timing.

Step #5 - Spend three months adjusting the ratio of esters while the Father AI logs your overtime as "personal research."

Step #6 - Request access to historical apple cultivation records. Compare against current hydroponic yields that you keep insisting aren't quite right.

Step #7 - Accept illegal thermos coffee from Arto while explaining why you're trying to simulate apple stem rot. Ignore his comment about how your genetic mother used to sneak him fresh apples during maintenance shifts.

Step #8 - Visit the hydroponic bay during off-hours. Stare at perfectly engineered apple trees while holding your latest formula.

Step #9 - Get caught by Arto in the hydroponic bay. Pretend you're doing official atmospheric maintenance.

Step #10 - File your three thousandth chemical variation attempt while children from the education deck eat fresh apples during their biology lesson.

Step #11 - Listen to Arto's story about his great-grandmother's apple trees on Earth while pretending to calibrate environmental controls. Make detailed notes about soil composition that aren't relevant to hydroponics. Make a note to yourself to request synthetic dirt.

Step #12 - Run formula past the station's other atmospheric engineers. Ignore their suggestions that the hydroponic apples are chemically identical to your synthesis.

Step #13 - Request video logs from the hydroponics bay from 14 years ago. Watch your own face.

Step #14 - Realize you're no longer sure what real apples smell like. Spend a week comparing your formula against hydroponic samples (to get back to square one) while Arto watches silently.

Step #15 - Submit research proposal for expanded apple volatiles study. Receive approval with note: "Recreational research permitted within standard atmospheric duties."

Step #16 - Calculate that you've spent more time perfecting this formula than an Earth apple tree takes to mature. Continue adjustments.

Step #17 - Watch Arto retire from maintenance duties. Inherit his illegal thermos and refuse to acknowledge why you keep it.

Step #18 - Access archived footage of the education deck from your childhood. Focus on analyzing environmental conditions instead of your own face.

Step #19 - Visit Arto in the elder care deck. Bring him hydroponic apples that you both agree aren't quite right.

Step #20 - Find Arto's old maintenance logs with notes about the original hydroponic bay installation. Ignore the drawings in margins made by children who are now atmospheric engineers themselves.

Step #21 - Input your final formula into the chemosynthesizer. Tell yourself it's for the sake of documentation.

Step #22 - Inhale from the olfactory vent while holding a fresh apple from the hydroponic bay. Compare the two. Bite an apple. Chew. Swallow. Inhale.

Step #23 - Step away in satisfaction, shake your head, put your hands on your hips. Smile a little bit. File formula in public database under "standard atmospheric maintenance". Take a seat in your motorchair, satisfied. Rub your achey legs.

Step #24 - Watch new generation of children eat apples during their biology lesson.

Step #25 - Die.

#short story #creative writing #sci fi

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lewmagoo · 11 days ago

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I saw you were writing blurbs! I was wondering if you can write one for Bob Floyd from the smut list? Number 4, maybe Bob is injured but desperately needs his partner?

slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)

he was fine. really, he was. just a little bruised, and very sore. he and phoenix had a close call during training that day, and it had forced them to eject from a jet that was hurdling at breakneck speed toward the earth. bob felt as if he’d been thrown down multiple flights of stairs. he ached in places he didn’t even know he could ache. but that wasn’t even the worst of it. no, the worst part was the look on your face when you’d come rushing into his room. you looked so frightened, and he hated that he was the cause of that fear and worry.

when you got the call that he’d been injured, your world tilted on its axis. thankfully your boss had allowed you to leave work early so you could be with your husband. you weren’t even aware of his condition. all you knew was that there’d been an accident, and that he was in the med bay, and no other details were able to be provided at that time. you were going in blind, unsure of what you were about to walk in on. would he be unresponsive? barely hanging on to life? these thoughts spiraled in your mind as you rushed down the hall toward the room they’d put him in. the only thing that gave you some sense of ease was the fact that he was in a recovery room, and not a care unit.

when you burst into the room, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed. he was obviously shaken, and there were some visible cuts and bruises, but he was in one piece, and he was alive. your knees almost buckled, but you pushed yourself forward until you reached him. “oh, bobby,” you whimpered. his eyes filled with tears, and you were quick to sit beside him and carefully wrap your arms around him, wary of doing anything that might cause him pain. “i was so scared. i didn’t know if you were okay or not.”

“i’m fine, sweetheart. just a little banged up.” he leaned over to kiss your head, despite the pain that flashed through his ribs. “one of the engines malfunctioned. we had to eject,” he explained.

“how’s nat?” you inquired, hoping she was fine.

“she’s okay. kind of beating herself up over it, even though it wasn’t her fault. she got us both safely out of the jet, that’s what matters.”

relief settled in your chest at the confirmation that your husband’s pilot was safe. you made a mental note to thank her for keeping your bobby out of harm’s way. “what are they saying as far as when you can be released?”

“it’s up to me. either i can stay for observation or i can sign some papers and get released tonight. i think i’m gonna do that. i’d rather spend the night in our bed than in this stuffy old hospital,” came his response.

that was how you found yourselves heading home a few hours later, bobby in the passenger seat as you drove. you held his hand the entire ride home, unwilling to let go. no words were spoken into the silence of the car. nothing could come close to expressing the way you felt. how terrified you’d been that you had lost him. thank god you hadn’t, but what if still lingered in your mind.

it lingered in his, too. long after you pulled into the driveway and guided him into the house. long after you helped him get ready for bed. long after you got him settled beneath the covers. he kept replaying the incident in his mind. the terror, the adrenaline, the realization that this moment could be his last.

“i was thinking of you,” he whispered. so quiet you couldn’t hear him.

“what was that?” you softly asked as you slid into bed beside him.

his mouth quivered. “i was thinking of you, when i was hurdling toward the ground. i thought…i thought for sure i was going to die. that i was never going to see your face again. hear your voice.” he squeezed his eyes shut, although his tears began to slide down his cheeks. “i-i’m glad it didn’t end that way. i’m glad i get another chance to tell you how much i love you.”

your own tears had begun to fall, and a soft sob escaped your throat. gingerly, you kissed him. tears mixing. mouths absorbing the sounds of each other’s weeping. although you were both reeling from this experience, there was an underlying tone of desperation. it manifested in you carefully climbing into his lap, straddling his hips. in your hands resting upon the sides of his neck, and his upon your hips. and when you parted, you could see it in his eyes. an unspoken need. something so strong and impassioned he could not voice it with mere words.

“please, honey, i…” he couldn’t speak. could barely breathe. suddenly it felt as if his skin was on fire.

“i know,” you breathed against his mouth. “are…are you sure? i don’t want to hurt you.”

“i’m sure.” trembling voice. barely able to breathe.

once again, you kissed him. you were frantic, yet gentle, as you rid yourself of your pajamas, and guided his soft sweatpants down his legs. lips finding his again, you reached down to wrap your hand around his soft cock, stroking him to full hardness as your other hand came down to prepare yourself to take him. it wasn’t long before you were aligning him with you, and he looked down to watch you sink down onto him. a guttural whimper escaped his throat, and his chest heaved as he let out a sob.

“oh! oh, sweetheart,” he sighed as you sank down fully, body flush with his. he wrapped his arms around your body, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders, holding him close, his head against your chest.

“i’ve got you,” came your whisper of reassurance. you held each other, bodies joined as one. tears streaming down your cheeks. mouths open and hot against each other’s. crying and moaning, breathing words of love and adoration. words of devotion.

“never let me go,” he pleaded. he wished you could hold him forever. that he could stay here in your arms, protected from the rest of the world, basking in the warmth of your love.

“never,” you sighed, hips rolling against his, trying your best not to hurt him. but you weren’t hurting him. far from it. you made him feel more alive than he’d felt all day.

“i love you,” he confessed into the air. “i need you. i never want to live without you.”

fingers laced through his hair, you let your forehead rest against his. “i love you too. never wanna live without you, either.”

the gravity of the situation weighed heavy on you both, but you took solace in this intimate connection. and if only for a little while, right here, connected to each other, you found peace. your bobby was safe in your arms. and you were thanking the stars that they’d seen fit to let him come back home to you.

#asks #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #lewmagoo’s blurb day

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narnian-neverlander · 1 year ago

Text

In Whatever Way [Adam Warlock x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: When he unknowingly tests your patience, you snap at Adam and say something you immediately regret.

Word Count: 5,1k

Warnings: Guardians 3 spoilers, talk about canon typical violence, cursing, slight injury & mention of blood, bit of angst, hurt & comfort, idiots in love, author being a sucker for the ‘oh. oh.’ moment of realization trope

A/N: Kind of a follow up to this one, but can absolutely be read as a stand alone

I have exactly one complaint and that’s Adam not having Will’s freckles (for obvious bodypaint reasons), so I went ahead and fixed that 💁

If someone had told you a year ago that a Sovereign would become your favorite person in the galaxy, you would’ve laughed in their face and then put a bullet in between their eyes for good measure. But life’s got a twisted sense of humor sometimes.

That first night after the defeat of the High Evolutionary, it’d been way too messy and hectic to find Adam a place of his own, so you’d dropped him off at your tiny apartment, very specifically told him to stay put and to not touch anything, and then headed out again in search of food and some clothes. You’d found those, but alongside them, you’d also found the furry F’Saki Adam had basically adopted. He’d looked about as lost as his owner, so you’d tucked the little guy under your arm and had taken him with you. Arriving back at your home, you’d discovered Adam curled up on your bed, fast asleep. The F’Saki had immediately scurried out from your grasp, made himself comfortable at Adam’s legs and had started snoring almost right after. You’d stood in the middle of your room, still in your dirty, torn uniform and bone tired, a young Sovereign and his pet passed out on your bed and had actually stopped to wonder how on earth your life had gotten to that point.

Not seeing a reason for staying any longer, you’d decided you might as well go out and get blissfully blackout drunk with your friends. Leaving a note with the change of clothes and food, you’d turned towards the entrance to find Nebula standing in your doorway. She’d scanned the situation she’d walked in on very carefully and then had simply raised slender, judgmental brows at you. You’d shooed her out, gently closing the door behind you, and had reminded her that ‘Adopting strays that’ve tried to kill us is kinda our thing; didn’t think I’d need to tell you of all people.’

Ever since that night, Adam had been virtually glued to your side. It’d been a bit strange and uncomfortable at first; you weren’t used to always having company, much less that of a Sovereign. There’d most definitely been an adjustment period with quite a few mishaps, one of which had ended with him in the med-bay with a bloody nose after he’d scared the ever living daylights out of you while you’d been testing the upgrades Rocket had made to your gauntlets - you’d apologized profusely for the rest of that day. Over time though, it had become apparent that he meant you no harm, nor did he have any ill will, he simply wished to repay the kindness you’d shown him when he’d felt he had no one looking out for him anymore.

And despite the fact that his golden skin and hair, his engineered-to-be-perfect face and body and his manner of speaking reminded you of his heritage everyday, you’d found it increasingly easy to ignore the fact that he was part of the species responsible for so much pain in your life. Of course, it wouldn’t be fair to hold him accountable for actions committed by his people long before he was even born. But it wasn’t just that, Adam was simply… different from the rest of the Sovereign. He might’ve been created to be perfect, but he was far from it: He was only just understanding his own limits, landing him in situations that had him in over his head more often than not. He could be arrogant and quick to anger over the smallest details. He only liked learning things if they came to him easy, but grumpily and quickly dropped the ones that didn’t. But there was always an underlying innocent curiosity and kindness in his actions; in the way he’d so effortlessly bonded with the rescued animals he was now taking care of. In the way he always immediately offered assistance, no matter how menial the task. In the way he’d taken such an interest in any and all earth things, simply because they held special meaning to you. In the few months since he’d come into your life, he’d captivated you so completely, had gotten you to care for him so deeply and truly, it even shocked yourself at times still. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

There is however still one topic of conversation that never seems to get easier and that’s his late mother, Ayesha. High priestess and figurehead of the crusade against your kind; all because of shapeshifting abilities you never even asked for. You’re very well aware of the fact that, before he became a part of the Guardians, she was the only family Adam had. That he’d cared for her very much, he still does, it’s obvious in the way he talks about her. And usually you let him talk, for his sake; to let him grieve by sharing stories about the loved one he lost. But today’s been exhausting, to say the least. You’ve been up since the crack of dawn and nothing seems to work out the way it’s supposed to. At the moment, you’re down somewhere in the bowels of Knowhere, courtesy of a broken filtration system. And since your resident genius raccoon mechanic is off world with Groot and you aren’t half bad with machines, the honor of trying to fix it had gone to you. You’d been down there for hours now, though, and aren’t making any real progress. Adam had joined you a little while back, and while you usually welcome his company, he’s picked a particularly bad day to select his mother as a topic of conversation. Your nerves are frayed, your patience running thin, but you hold your tongue, choosing to only answer in occasional hums of acknowledgement to confirm that you’re listening. That works out just fine right up until the moment he says “You remind of her, actually.”

The wrench you’re currently using almost slips from your sweaty palms as you bristle and hiss “Don’t ever say that again.” His answer is immediate and while you’re not looking at him, you can hear the genuine confusion in his voice. “Why not? It’s the truth.” The more rational part of you knows he means it as a compliment - but that part seems to have taken the day off. You swallow the rising bile in your throat before you reply with “I am nothing like that vile woman. Don’t compare me to her again, do you understand?” You’ve quite obviously hit a nerve, as you hear him rise from his seated position on some debris and when he speaks again the confusion in his voice has given way to anger. “My mother was not vile, take that back!”

You mumble “Maybe not to you…” more to yourself than anything else as you busy yourself with the repairs, absolutely not in the mood for this conversation, but he hears anyways. “I don’t care what you might think of her; she loved me!” A bark of laughter escapes you before you can stop it, bitter and cruel. “Please, maybe she loved what you were supposed to be; the ultimate weapon, the next step in their precious perfect evolution, but you failed that spectacularly. And even that’s pushing it!” The bolt you’ve been trying to loosen seems to have gotten stuck even worse as you aggressively throw your whole weight down on the wrench’s handle, any and all social courtesies you’ve kept up around Adam in regards to this particular topic going right out the window. “But don’t take that personally; Sovereign just aren’t capable of love, it’s as simple as - FUCK!!” The bolt finally gives way, sending you face first into one of the pipes of the machinery. Pulling back with a pained hiss, you bring a hand to your throbbing forehead and let out a few more curses when it comes away bloody.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Two deep, slow breaths it takes for you to calm down. It takes two more for realization to hit and the regret that comes with it threatens to choke you on the spot. Adam’s gone deathly quiet and you’d honestly prefer if he lost his temper with you; that you could handle at least. You’re terrified of what you’ll find when you turn around, so you do so slowly and immediately wish you hadn’t at all.

Adam’s an awful liar; he wears his heart on his sleeve and his emotions always plain on his face for everyone to read. And right now? Even on that first night, when he’d been injured, scared and all alone, you don’t think he’d looked so completely and utterly heartbroken. His name has barely left your lips in a desperate plea when he turns and takes off, the golden glow of his powers vanishing around a corner and completely out of sight not a second later. There’s no point in going after him right now, you know that, he’s stubborn, especially when he’s upset - not that that helps you feel better about yourself in any capacity; you well and truly want to throw yourself out of the nearest airlock. With a heavy sigh, you pick up the discarded wrench from the floor, deciding to give the young Sovereign some space and quickly, haphazardly finish with your work instead.

By the time you leave the med-bay, a bandaid now covering the wound on your forehead, it’s been a good hour or two, so you make your way to Adam’s apartment, hesitantly knocking on the door. When there’s no answer, you peek through one of the small windows, but the room is empty except for Blurp curled up on the bed, snoring contently. You check the cantina next, then the complex where the animals had been set up. You check in with Kraglin and Cosmo, Drax and Phyla, and basically any residents of Knowhere that you come across - no one has seen the golden man since he went off to help you. Your search eventually brings you to the spaceport, where you find the Bowie freshly docked, Groot carrying crates down the loading ramp, Rocket on his shoulders. Considering you were running out of places to check that were actually on Knowhere and Adam didn’t need oxygen like the rest of you, you figure you might as well ask if they’d seen him somewhere in the general vicinity of the giant head while coming back.

“Rocket, have you seen Adam?” the question’s out of your mouth before you’ve even properly reached them and your furry friend doesn’t bother to look up from the data pad he’s studying as he scoffs “Nice to see you, too, (y/n). Yeah, me and Groot are fine, mission went great, thanks for asking; always touching to come home to such a warm welcome.” Mumbling out an apology you only half mean, you cross your arms over your chest and look at him expectantly. When he realizes you’re not gonna go away, he hooks the pad to his belt with a groan and looks at you, one elbow propped up against Groot’s head. “How the flarg would I know? Goldie’s attached to your hip, not mine.” You don’t wanna have to get into details right now, so you settle for “Usually, sure. But I messed up, he ran off and now I can’t find him.” Rocket snorts, clearly not buying it. “The guy looks at you like you hung the friggin’ stars in the sky, what could you of all people have possibly done to piss him off that bad?” Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you avoid eye contact with him and busy yourself with a loose thread on your shirt instead. Details it is after all. “I… might’ve insulted his mother and told him I don’t believe Sovereign are capable of love.” The quiet lasts for all of half a second before Rocket starts cackling so hard, he goes tumbling off of Groot’s shoulders and ends up on the ground; clutching his stomach he’s almost howling in laughter and it makes heat shoot up to your face in both embarrassment and anger as you stomp your foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “Rocket this isn’t funny!!”

The raccoon struggles to his feet, one paw still on his knee as the other wipes at his eyes. “You’re right; it’s not. It’s hysterical! I mean… if that’s how you talk to a guy you’re actually into, I’d hate to see how you treat the ones you don’t like.” Brows furrowing in bewilderment, the complete change of topic makes you fumble for a moment as you ask “What… what the hell is that supposed to mean?” All traces of amusement vanish from Rocket’s face, jaw going slack as he stares at you and realizes you’re serious. He lets out a low whistle before he states “Wow. And here I thought the golden boy was clueless. At least he’s got some excuse, he ain’t been around the galaxy for all that long, but you? You can’t be for real.” You’re very quickly growing very tired of this conversation, so with a huff, you throw your hands up in exasperation. “Rocket, are you gonna stand here and give me riddles for the rest of the day or are you gonna help me?” Said help comes from the tree that’s been busy unloading the ship up until now. “I am Groot.” Your head snaps towards your teammate at the insinuation. “What tracker?” Now it’s Rocket’s turn to look embarrassed, a disappointed sigh and a long, drawn out version of his name leaving your lips. “I thought we talked about this ages ago; you can’t go putting trackers on people without their consent!” He doesn’t seem all that bothered by your outburst as he mocks “Oh boo hoo, y’all constantly whine about that right up until the moment it benefits you - like right now!” But he goes digging through one of the pockets on his belt anyway and holds out the small device he finds to you. Your anger more or less evaporates as you are yet again reminded that Rocket does care, in his own way. You kneel down to his level, take the tracker and give him a hug as you thank him - and just for good measure, press a long, disgusting kiss to his furry cheek as payback for laughing at your predicament. He scrambles out of your hold in obvious discomfort, gagging noises accompanying you as you take your leave, but as usual, he needs to have the last word, shouting “Save the smooches for Goldilocks!!” at your retreating figure.

Not even ten minutes later, you’re looking up at one of the tallest buildings in Knowhere. It’s an old, dilapidated communications tower that is long overdue for demolition; it’s all rusted metal and broken off, jagged edges, entirely impossible to climb without flight capabilities. Out of options, you helplessly check the tracker once more just to make sure that, yes, unfortunately he’s really up there, Rocket’s tech could be trusted on that and squinting up at the top you’re almost sure you see a glimmer of gold. You pocket the device with a shaky inhale and cup your hands around your mouth. “Adam!” you shout, even though you don’t really need to; he’s got enhanced senses, you’re certain he’d be able to hear you even if you whispered. “Adam, I know you’re up there, can you please come down?” Five seconds pass. Then ten. Then thirty. Nothing. “Listen, I know I messed up and I know you’re upset, but this isn’t gonna just go away, we need to talk about it!” A full minute of silence passes this time, dread and anxiety weighing down your shoulders more and more with each second that ticks by. When you speak again, you’re worried about your voice breaking, so it does come out as a whisper this time. “Adam, please. At least give me a chance to fix this.” Head hung low, you run both hands through your hair and over your face with an annoyed groan, upset with both his stubbornness and with yourself for having caused this mess in the first place. Thinking your attempt at a conciliation lost, you turn to leave and almost fall flat on your ass in shock when you find Adam standing there, arms crossed over his chest and glaring at you. “I do not wish to speak with you.”

“And you don’t have to, you just… have to listen for a moment, alright?” It takes him a few long, agonizing seconds to begrudgingly nod and you let out a relieved breath. Despite the hours you’d just spent searching for him, carefully laying out what you wanted to say, you’re drawing a blank at this very moment, but you try anyways. “Okay, look… I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I truly am.” When he scoffs in disbelief you reach for his hand, only to have him pull away, making your heart sink. Ever since he’d started experiencing things for himself and figuring out his likes and dislikes, it’d become clear quite quickly that Adam enjoyed physical affection, especially when you were the one to initiate it. He’d never turned it down - until now. How badly had you messed up?

“I mean that, Adam. It’s just that… I know Ayesha was your family and you miss her, but the person you knew her to be and the person I knew her to be are… quite contrasting. And I honestly don’t think there’s a way for me to reconcile both views with each other. I’ve let you talk about her because it seemed to make you happy, but you have to understand that it’s hard for me to hear praises about a person who was directly responsible for so much suffering and pain in my life. However, I also know that my experiences and rage… blind me, to a certain degree; lumping together all Sovereign isn’t fair, cause everybody’s their own person and can make their own choices, you’ve proven that.”

You can see the gears turning in his head, but he stays quiet and avoids looking at you all the same. You swallow hard around the lump that’s formed in your throat before you continue speaking. “Be that as it may, I also want you to know that you don’t have to accept my apology if you don’t want to.” His eyes are on you in a second and the hopeful tone in his voice when he says ‘I don’t?’ threatens to split your heart in two. “No, you don’t. I’m apologizing because it’s the right thing to do and because I feel absolutely awful about having hurt someone I care so much about. But if you feel that I’ve crossed a line, then…” Clearing your throat to keep your voice from breaking, you feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Then you’re under no obligation to accept it for my sake and I’ll have to live with that. I’ll give you some time to think about it.” Brushing past him, calls of your name fall on deaf ears as you leave, considering that’s just about all the emotional toll you’ll be able to take today.

A pillow tightly clutched to your chest, you’re curled up in bed not much later, tears still fresh on your cheeks. Honestly, you’re not sure why exactly you’re even crying. Because you’re sad at the prospect of having lost a friend? Because, despite of what you said, you wish he’d been less stubborn and just accepted your apology? Because you’re frustrated with yourself over how close you’d allowed the two of you to grow in the first place? It really doesn’t make sense to you. It had taken years for the rest of the Guardians to chip away at the walls you’d built around yourself so that they could squeeze inside, but Adam? A few months was all it had taken for him to get under your skin. For you to look forward to spending time with him everyday. For his laugh to become your favorite sound. For —

Your train of thought gets stopped dead in it’s tracks by a soft knock on your door, immediately followed by the scratching of tiny claws and an all too familiar whine. Wiping your palms over your eyes to get rid of the rest of the wetness staining your face, you scramble out of bed and make your way towards the entrance of your apartment. As expected, you find Adam and Blurp on the other side, the F’Saki slipping inside like he owns the place as soon as he’s able. He makes himself comfortable on the foot of your bed and looks at both of you expectantly, all bright eyes and perked ears. A setup like this normally means movie night, a little tradition you’d started to help Adam get a hold on as many customs as possible while still having fun and not actually throwing him into social interactions that would make everybody involved uncomfortable. For all intents and purposes, with the dim lighting in your room, the messy bed and Adam on your doorstep in his usual sleeping getup of sweatpants and a tank top, it does look like that’s what’s about to happen, you can’t blame the little guy for misinterpreting. Dragging your gaze back to the golden man at your doorstep, you’re surprised to find he doesn’t look half as exhausted as you feel. Matter of fact, this is the calmest and most determined you’ve seen him all day.

“May I come in?” You step aside to let him, gently closing the door behind you both with a quiet click. “I’ve thought about what you told me earlier and I think I’ve come to a conclusion on what I must do.” Dreading what comes out of his mouth next, you can’t seem to muster up the strength to look at him and keep your eyes downcast, only for his hands to enter your field of view and grab hold of your own. “I need to apologize to you.” Your head snaps up to find that he’s completely serious and barely manage to stutter out an incredibly intelligent ‘Huh?’

Adam lightly squeezes your hands when he continues. “Up until you pointed it out, it never occurred to me how the topic of my mother, my people might make you feel. Unintentional or not, my actions hurt someone I care about and I don’t like how it makes me feel. Apologizing is what I should do in that case, correct?” You wrangle with yourself for a second, but then squeeze back gratefully. “Yes, that’s right, and I’m thankful that’s the conclusion you came to, but… Adam, you couldn’t have known. I never said anything about it, instead I let my negative emotions fester and grow until I couldn’t take it anymore and it all came out in the worst way possible. If anything, we’re both a little to blame for this.” Pausing to take a deep breath, you continue with the question you really want answered, even though you’ve got a pretty good idea already. “So… does that mean we’re okay? You’re not upset with me and want me out of your life?” You watch his eyes grow wide in shock and his hands move up to your shoulders to settle there with a firm grip. “Is that what you were afraid of? Why you’ve been crying?” Shrugging as best as you can, you mumble “Kind of? You seemed so angry with me, I just thought I’d crossed a line there was no coming back from and it made me sad, so—“ The sentence stays unfinished as Adam envelops you in a bone crushing hug, even lifting you off the ground a little.

“(y/n), you’re the best thing that’s happened to me since I came into this world and I don’t even want to think about what my life would be like without you in it.” he says, face buried in the crook of your neck and you’re glad for it as you feel heat rising all the way to the top of your ears. Hugging him back just as tight, you reply “I don’t want to think about my life without you in it anymore, either.” Content just being in each other’s arms, you stay like that for a bit, until he breaks the comfortable silence with a quiet call of your name as he carefully puts you back on your feet, to which you respond with a hum of acknowledgment. “Do you really think me incapable of love?” And just like that, the feeling of wanting to throw yourself out an airlock returns; frantically stringing together the word ‘No!’ about ten times as you pull back to properly look at him. “No, of course I don’t, that was just… When people are angry, they’ll sometimes say and do things they don’t actually mean. But I swear I don’t think that about you, how could I? You’re proving the opposite every day.”

“I am?” he questions, brows furrowed, confusion and doubt clear as day and you can’t help but laugh softly as you go to cup his handsome face between your palms. “Oh my sweet Adam, do you really not see it?” Bringing his own hands to lightly hold your wrists, he sighs. “I wasn’t created to love. I was created to kill. To destroy. To bring pain and misery. So when you said that, I was… I am scared you might be right.” Gently running your thumbs over his cheeks, you simply look at your golden boy for a mere moment. The last rays of the artificial sunlight filtering in through your blinds cast him in a beautiful glow; eyes warm like honey, skin glittering like stars and the pattern of slightly darker golden, coppery spots over his nose and cheeks, an imperfection akin to freckles you’re still surprised they let him keep, all the more prominent. Of course he’s capable of love, he has to be. Surely, you wouldn’t fall for someone who wouldn’t be able to—

Oh.

So that’s what that prick of a raccoon had been talking about. With the benefit of hindsight, it honestly baffles you it had taken this long for the other shoe to drop. Adam calling your name is what kicks your brain back into functioning after that epiphany; you blink and shake your head a little before responding. “Sorry, I was just… never mind. Do you… do you really not see how your everyday actions show love?” His eyes flick between yours as he considers your words and then settles on “I’m… not entirely certain what love is supposed to look or feel like.”

“Oh dear, uhm…” you’re unsure if you’ll be able to explain that to him properly, but you’ll be damned if you don’t at least try. “Well… there’s many different forms of love. All similar, but slightly different in some ways. But overall it’s… to deeply care for another being, I guess? When being with them brings you joy? When you want to see them safe and happy? And even though you might wish for that happiness to be with you, it’ll be fine if it’s not cause they matter more to you than yourself.” Your hands have wandered to the base of his neck, fingers buried in the short hair as he cocks his head to the side in thought. “Like you and the rest of the Guardians let Peter Quill and Mantis go on their own paths even though it made you sad to see them go?” Grinning, you nod in confirmation. “Exactly. And the way you took it upon yourself to take care of the animals we saved? The way you adopted Blurp, in spite of what your mother wanted, cause you felt he was sad and lonely? How you went out of your way to make sure I felt comfortable around you? All of that means you care. All of that are ways of showing love.” It’s obvious he’s trying real hard to comprehend everything you’ve just explained to him, but it a lot, so you continue with “Love is one of the most simple and basic emotions in most beings. But navigating it and differentiating between it’s different forms can be difficult - for everyone. There’s no rush though, you can take all the time in the world to figure it all out for yourself. I promise you have nothing to worry about, you’re perfectly fine, okay?”

Adam brings one of his hands from your waist up to cup your cheek and smiles when you lean into his touch. This is what he’d been trying to tell you earlier, when he’d compared you to his mother: He trusts you completely, your judgement, too. You make him feel at peace like no one else in the universe. “Okay.” he replies and you return his smile, just barely containing the urge to pepper kisses over his pretty face and -

Yeah you’re gonna have to deal with this particular mess of emotions sooner rather than later.

The tender moment gets interrupted by Blurp whining at you two, impatiently hopping from one paw to another on the foot of your bed. “It would appear Blurp insists on a movie night. If you feel like it?” you chuckle and Adam happily agrees. So you set up everything as usual and settle on a lighthearted family comedy to watch. But the day’s been long, exhausting and emotionally draining; try as you might your eyes keep drifting shut and you’re out cold ten minutes into the movie.

The golden man jumps a bit when there’s a slight thump against his shoulder, only to find you fast asleep. His focus now on you instead of the movie, tender fingers ghosting over the bandaid on your forehead in concern, he thinks about what you’ve just told him. About what love was supposed to feel like and it dawns on him that yes, the warmth that spreads through his chest all the way down to his feet when you do as little as smile at him must be love. And yet when he’s with you it’s… different from what it felt like to be with his mother or to be with Blurp or the rest of the Guardians. It irks him to not be able to properly discern what makes you special; you’d said there were different forms of love, but how was he supposed to understand the difference?

As you curl into his side more, one arm coming across his chest to hug him and his name subconsciously falling from your lips in a barely audible, sleepy mumble, he realizes it doesn’t matter, nor does he really care, at least not right this moment. For now, it’s enough for him to be certain of the fact that he loves you and you love him - in whatever way.

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #gn reader #adam warlock #gotg vol 3 #adam warlock fluff #idiots in love #angst #hurt/comfort #guardians of the galaxy #mcu #will poulter #my writing

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fuumiku · 8 months ago

Text

Day 2 : Role Swap

Ok I have thoughts for this one bear with me. He’s a mage with a half-foot guild still but his activism is especially targeted towards half-foot mages specifically since they’re rare and so looked down upon (and the two are correlated).

Marcille scouts out places all Tomb Raiser style for lost treasures and knowledge, keeps maps and written info etc in her book. She’s still much of a scholar but more in an archeologist sense, she wants to discover the truth of dungeons and see if it could revolutionize the world. She’s a buildings and engineering nerd instead of magic nerd. She hypes herself up as a passionate cool rogue adventurer like in books✨ Chil thinks it’s a silly and unstable profession. All her um, grace and agility when doing headstands and dancing are coming through with this new role of hers.

Chil does need to borrow mana and so they hold hands a lot. I am so taking advantage of the mana transfer thing. "I’m out of mana, you’re an elf and you never use magic, give some to me! You have so much, don’t be selfish!!" -inparty fight breaks out as he chases after her and she runs away- I imagine that’s just kinda how he and half-foot mages roll? Dunmeshi-typical worldbuilding monologue that explains how "Most people don’t even use their mana, they don’t even learn magic. If you give me your mana I’ll be able to do more magic, win-win, no harm done." I imagine you have to be magic-savvy to be able to transfer mana to someone but it’s fine he can just steal it methinks 🌟 So he gets to be the one who’s very casual about physical touch. He does NOT want to be a healer it stresses him out but ah shit there Falin goes.

More AU details under cut

You’ve heard of onion knight now get ready for onion mage Y’know the saddest part of mage Chilchuck is that he wouldn’t use explosion spells

You know how Marcille uses her staff to grab people by the neck or head sometimes… Chilchuck would have a free choking stick he can use to make people listen to him. He can REACH THEIR NECKS. It doubles as a walking stick for his old man back… /j And a weapon, sort of. I think staff more than lance, but long weapons like that suit him I think. Holding the monster at bay with a 4 feet long stick like "Stay BACK!! Go for my party members shoo shoo!!!!"

From my observations, staffs for magic all have a ‘hole’ at one end, oh size, shape, material and form varying. For example both Marcille and Rin have a similar hoop, but Falin’s is a lantern which imo the metal frame of it and the glass form this hole I’m speaking of. Maybe it’s like, the staff condenses the magic inside the hole and helps channel it and give it form? What I’m saying here is I didn’t decide what it was made out of but I like to think it’s carved wood so it can be homemade but unique to him.

Marcille and Chil both fight in battles, but he stays where it’s safer and does long distance spells only. Marcile uses daggers probably… But yeah her role’s more being a scout rather than a fighter, while Chil’s role is being a magical fighter and his expertise on magical creatures and such.

I think he’d be self-taught, where it’s his own magic system… I think he likes theory more than vibes and working at the whims of creatures, so maybe elven with an half-foot script? He doesn’t seem like the type to get buddy-buddy with spirits much A bit like his cowl it’s like he always has a part of home with him a bit with his half-foot magic… He’d have sucked at the beginning, it’s pretty experimental magic, but he made it work and tbh he’s a Big Deal for it. Learning on the field ofc ofc he’s no honor student

I think the racial prejudices tension would be worse, because he’d be nervous of the whole ‘half-foots who get too curious about dark magic get taken away’, and I think as a half-elf who doesn’t do magic it might be uncomfortable for her to deal with how the half-foot is better at it than her and how her mana would have had better use with him instead of her? Idk brainstorming. I def think she’d habe more of a complex about being a half-elf�� Still with existential dread and still Hopes to find a cure to death, but she goes about it through artefacts etc rather than magic. I’m unsure how her career would turn out that wqy exactly because job stability and academia are important to her, but yeah I think she went to school on an agricultural and history level and focused her research on that front? And then she could become that adventurer scholar who explores to pierce secrets of the world and ancient civilizations trope yeah I think that’s the angle.

Maybe his plans for the future after quitting being a dungeon diver would be teacher/mentor instead of shopkeeper 🤔 One one hand oh god have mercy on his blood pressure, on the other he likes contributing to his community and would want to encourage half-foot mages and pass down his knowledge and expertise I think. Empty nest syndrome where…- OHHH mage Meijack……. I was thinking becayse Meijack followed in his footsteps in canon but it could suit Puckpatti and Flertom too… Their dad would have shown them some magic tricks hehe. They can be a magical girl trio in my heart, Powerpuff Girls energy…

A rogue has gotta be able to make intricate af braids and updos with their fingers (ignore how in canon Chil is just barely decent at them nvm). I was thinking maybe one of Marcille’s lockpicks is Ambrosia-shaped… Or maybe it’s an hairpin. Maybe she keeps her lockpicks as pins in her hair but they’re easy to grab… Getting more gimmicky by the second but my heart yearns for it I cannot lie. I ended up doing something close to canon for Marcille’s outfits but at first I imagined she’d wear stuff more akin elven fashion, short dress with pants, light material, though also with a leather armor breastblate. She has long gloves like the ones that look fancy, maybe even up her upper arm rather than just forearm ooh… Also her little pouch, which actually contains stuff this time around (lockpicks). They still have matching pouches yay

In that last doodle Chilchuck weaved her a little familiar with twigs… So it is magical but it’s hers, and it’s a second stand-in for Ambrosia. Maybe a golem… It’s very silly and prob not real in the au but the thought of it is really cute. Someone on the discord said Fantastical Beasts Pickett which yesss lmao, it’s like a pokemon for "(lock)pick it!" I love arts and crafts Chilchuck so much. Sew clothes. Weave twigs. Woodcarve. Necromance a frankenstein. He can make himself a new wife (/J I AM SO /J)

— Also for Izutsumi: I think the reverse of a ninja is a bard. Take that as you will. Angry bard who grew up in a troupe……

#Dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi au #marcille donato #chilchuck tims #marchil #marchil march 2024 #The way i could have had this out at lunch hour but brainrotted too hard #Content making or daydreaming it’s an all-marchil economy over here #So much half-foot magic hcs lately i love it sm #Sketch dump

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