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anika-ann · 4 years ago

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Just a Human (S.R.)

Type: mini-series turned one-shot, SHIELD recruit!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 8750

Summary: Being a SHIELD recruit was a dream come true, especially with people like Sergeant Barnes or Captain Rogers offering an input to your class’ training.

It was also hard work for many different reasons. One of them being all those guys around; not all of them were exactly fit to become heroes, simply because they were not good people.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed it out so openly though. Then again, what would the world turn into if you kept your mouth shut when feeling like speaking up?

WARNINGS: so-so graphic description of assault almost turned sexual, violence and a bit of blood, boys being boys in a real bad way, language

A/N: Steve Rogers vs assholes, round 2. Also, ‘you’ vs. assholes. And Bucky in the mix.

A/N: This was originally posted as a miniseries on AO3, but now edited, I decided to thrown it in as a long, sort-of three part one-shot. Enjoy and mind the warnings.

(gif source dailymcugifs, divider by firefly-graphics)

A Handful of Spite

“Can you believe the fucking nerve on him?!” Henry hissed, punching the bag harder and catching your attention. The statement was followed by his companion nodding grimly.

You tried to ignore the walking testosterone jerks; you never liked either Henry or Jim. The reason was simple – they were, as you loved to remind people, an advertisement on toxic masculinity. Bullies on top of that. The kind of people you wanted to avoid at all costs.

You weren’t that lucky to have that chance though.

So instead, you scoffed under your breath and continued your sit-ups series. You had more important things to do than wonder about what they were talking about this time.

It was your regular training session with the other SHIELD recruits led by Sergeant Barnes – which--- oh my. When joining the academy, you had no clue that the director’s ‘you’ll be learning from the best’ meant that of all things; trained by the more-than-once-believed-late James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone here knew his story – or at least some of it. The brainwashing. The murders. His heroics to make up for them as much as he could. His everlasting friendship and a nickname that was tied to it. Bucky; the very best friend of the oh-so-praised Captain America.

Oh, speaking of which, he joined the sessions too. You were being trained by not one, but two supersoldiers slash war heroes. You couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes, but you were not one to dwell on it. You just accepted it as a fact. An abso-fucking-lutely incredible fact.

“He’s just a fucker, man. Forget about Barnes, you have Cassie in your pocket. Just ‘cause he’s all sticky sweet on her doesn’t mean she’ll suck his-“

You made a disgusting face, pushing harder to tune out the conversation. You wanted to gag and at the same time, your blood was boiling.

Could there be a jerk who was objectifying women more than Jim? A guy who was using his lower brain more frequently than him? Doubtful. You really wanted to throw up at rubbish that was leaving his mouth.

Not to mention that he was throwing dirt on Sergeant Barnes who absolutely didn’t deserve it.

“-he’s like that to all of them. The chicks. And they fucking dig him, it’s disgusting. He makes the poor brainwashed kicked puppy face, reminding the sob story of his and they’re all dropping to their knees I swear…” Jim continued, practically spitting the venomous words.

You squeezed your eyes shut, half furious and half guilty; the sergeant did have a heart-breaking backstory and many girls were making eyes on him, their hearts softened by the tragedy and his bravery, yes. And you couldn’t say it wasn’t moving you as well, filling you with compassion – but compassion only. Obviously, Sergeant Barnes was objectively a very attractive man too, but what they were saying… ugh.

He didn’t deserve these insults; he was not trying anything on anyone, he wasn’t offering his ‘sob story’, actually being rather secretive about it for obvious and no doubt painful reasons. He couldn’t really couldn’t be blamed for the girls fawning over him a bit more because of it, could he? What was he supposed to do? Stop breathing? Stop doing what he chose to be his job?

It wasn’t his problem – and thank god for that – that these two assholes had egos the size of Texas and couldn’t handle a little competition.

Seriously. Walking testosterone-filled jerks. You seriously considered moving from the station you had been given, eyeing Captain Rogers, checking if he would notice.

“Well, he’s not. Getting. Any. From. My. Chick. Asshole!”

The bag swung wildly under Henry’s blows despite Jim holding it. You laid off, taking your fifteen second break.

“I bet he’s fucking them all on side. Always so… so soft on them. I bet he’s leaving all the hard shit for bed,” Jim snorted, somewhere between angry at him competition and amused at his own crude joke.

You were gonna puke. You were sure of it.

“And he’s too hard on us. Showing off for them. I would fucking want to see him holding up against us without that metal arm-“

You had enough. You sat up sharply, panting, your face flushed, unsure whether it was from the exercise or the exchange you were listening to.

“Are you serious?!” you hissed their way, earning their shocked glances.

And then, Jim’s face twisted in annoyance and disgust.

“Oh geez, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” he snarked, rolling his eyes. “The fangirls.”

More heat burned in your cheeks. You weren’t kidding anyone; both the sergeant and the captain had showed up in your not so innocent dreams, but you were only human, alright. There was only so much time you could spend with two very fine men like them in one room, a bit sweaty and rough (or just slightly gentler with the ladies) until your brain reacted. Mostly to the captain. Not the point.

But actually crossing the line? Being a part of the thing they were describing if it ever existed? Waiting in the line until one of them picked you for the evening with a promise to do it again after they… Jesus what, tried all the others? No, thank you. You had some dignity left.

Also, you simply couldn’t imagine them doing such thing. Raised in a different era, tried by war and pain and lost, yet remaining the great men they were? Just nope.

“No! Jesus, are you even listening to yourself?” you hissed, minding your volume. You hoped that the low hum of voice in the room, of others working out, giving each other pointers and the noise of the machines would offer you a cover from the rest of your companion.

“What, you wanna tell me they’re not going easy on you? On any chick, really?”

“Yeah, well, maybe because they don’t actually want to break our bones during training. Supersoldiers. Superstrength. Does that ring a bell?” you pointed out, reaching for your water bottle, hoping either of your trainers would forgive you when seeing you only took a sec to have a sip.

Henry scoffed, leaning onto the bag. “Sounds like someone has a crush…”

You couldn’t help the motion of your hands, inconspicuously throwing them in the air in frustration.

Why were you even speaking to them? You should have kept your mouth shut!

“Oh go to hell, Ulrich! You’re just jealous and scared that your girl whom you treat like a piece of shit will run off,” you murmured, wiping your forehead off sweat.

“Yeah, because they’re sure pulling their punches with guys too,” Jim complained again, rolling his eyes as Henry now watched you, eyes narrowed in anger – oh you hit a nail on the head, alright.

You couldn’t but mirror Jim’s action, deciding to stick to Devil’s advocate, because…. yeah, because it wasn’t fair to either Rogers or Barnes. They were good people and didn’t deserve this.

“So they’re not beating the shit out of us like they do with you, get over it.”

“They’re humiliating us! Showing off their big muscles, trying to impress all the chicks-“

You chuckled incredulously as they actually admitted the real reason behind their bitching so openly; as if you hadn’t known the whole time. Ego. Ohhh, the ego was bruised. Call 911, CPR is gonna be needed! God, how did they even live with ego this big? Compensating for something?

“They’re doing their job. Training. Yes, they go a bit harder on you, because your physiology can take it. Did it ever occur to you that they have bigger problems than entering a pissing contest with you just so they could steal the girls? Jeez… just… maybe try to be less of assholes and the girls will be into you too… ”

You missed the hard look Henry gave you, laying down again, this time on your belly to work on your back.

You wheezed when a knee suddenly dug into your back, violently and painfully knocking the air out of your lungs. Before you could react, one of your arms was twisted behind your back, Henry’s voice raspy right into your ear, low and dangerous.

“Listen, you little bitch, you don’t get to talk to me like that. Understand? Huh?”

He was so proving your point, but you didn’t have the time You tried to breathe in properly, and free your arm while pushing up on the free one, your muscles burning with the effort. Shit, he was heavy. You wheezed again instead of the answer.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie. What was that?”

Peripherally, you could see heavy boots approaching rapidly, making a quick guess of who that could be. You gritted your teeth, tears of humiliation pricking your eyes. You were not about to give Henry the satisfaction of proving his point of your trainers being sweet on all the girls even if this so wasn’t that.

“Screw. You,” you let out with the last oxygen left, grabbing his left calf and sharply tugging to the very same side. A half-second later when his weight of you eased just a fraction, you threw your body to the left as well, adding a jerk of your legs.

Both of you rolled over, him ending up under you and you quickly spun away, gasping, desperately fighting for air. As it burned your windpipe, it was as painful as welcomed. Little spots danced inf ornt of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away – luckily for you, Henry didn’t dare to attack you again.

You shook your head before pushing to sit up, only to meet with Captain Rogers’s strict gaze.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded, sharp blue eyes flickering between the three of you.

Maybe you were hallucinating, but he seemed to be murdering Henry with his eyes. Uh-uh. You would have been glad he was, hadn’t Henry been talking about favouritism only few moments ago. You pushed up simultaneously with him and you both stood straight, facing the captain.

“Apologies, sir,” you stated mechanically, his gaze immediately shifting to you. Your heart stopped. Oh wow, you would swear the blue of his irises was on fire. You gulped. “We had a slight disagreement with Mr. Ulrich. I’m aware I shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place. I’ll take whatever punishment is given to me.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d liked taking a punishment from him, wouldn’t you…” Jim muttered under his breath, making your gut twist in disgust.

Was he ever not thinking about sex? You prayed the captain didn’t hear him and you had to stop yourself from shooting Jim a murderous glare.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Consider it a warning. Mr. Ulrich? You have something to add before you take a few laps?”

You could literally hear Henry’s blood boiling. You opened your mouth to ask for the same punishment, not wanting to have his point proved. You never got the chance to speak.

“No, sir. I only don’t understand why I’m the only one being punished,” Henry questioned innocently and you gritted your teeth.

Maybe because you attacked me, you dickhead?

Captain glared at him for a moment before his gaze shifted to Jim. “You’re not. Mr. Larkin is following your example.”

You pressed your lips together, this time to stop a smile threatening to spread on your lips. God, who knew America’s Golden Boy could get that sassy? You cleared your throat.

“If I might speak, sir, I deserve to run the laps as well,” you noted carefully, earning a curious expression from your superior. You could tell he wavered, a strange spark appearing in his eyes.

You desperately wanted him to let you run too even if you breathing was still a bit difficult; because otherwise Henry would be proved right. Yeah, nope.

“Very well, then. Ten laps around the gym, recruits. Then you move to the station free at the moment. Go. Don’t let it happen again.”

The three of you nodded dutifully and picked up a pace. For some reason, you could feel the captain’s eyes on you while he walked back to assisting his friend with hand-to-hand training. You glimpsed the sergeant leaning to him, probably asking what was that about, but the blond just shook his head.

Towards the eighth lap, you were being overpassed by Henry and Jim, who ran together; faster than you, whether you liked it or not.

“This isn’t over, bitch,” his hateful hiss reached your ears and you picked up speed stubbornly, not showing them that they might intimidate you even for a second.

They wished.

Even when leaving the room after the session was finished, you would swear there was a pair of blue eyes burning a hole to the back of your head. You hoped that you’d soon be free of the captain’s attention.

You sure didn’t want him to watch too closely. You didn’t need him behind your back to see mistakes you sometimes made just like anybody else. Also, it would be harder to admire and ogle him; you did that occasionally, okay. You were just a human, after all.

A Handful of Mistakes

Shauna, your roommate and bestie from science division of SHIELD, was very patient listening to your lament about guys being dicks; she was awesome like that.

So you vigorously vented your frustration with male population, rolled your eyes when mimicking the silent threat of ‘this not being over’, had a very unhealthy piece of cake at the cafeteria that afternoon and moved on.

You should have known better.

Henry’s words came haunting you few days later; which was too bad, because you had already forgotten about them, until the very moment they had punched you to the face.

…or rather to your shoulder and it wasn’t even a punch, more like one of those bumps people did, especially when they were being jerks, shoving you too hard for you to believe it was an accident.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” you threw over your shoulder sarcastically, continuing your way to the women’s locker room.

In hindsight, that was probably mistake number one; ignoring Henry and not starting a fight right there, not to mention being mouthy.

To be fair, you had no interest in further interaction; you were exhausted from the training, you were sticky and sweaty and all you craved was a shower. You would have just gone to have one at your dorm, but Shauna was having a hot date and you didn’t want to step on her toes. So you had taken your toiletries with you, using the showers near the gym.

Using the gym shower; mistake number two. It meant all of the students being gone by the time you emerged in fresh homey clothes, hair dripping water, because you hated hair-dryers and avoided them unless they were completely necessary.

You had spent much longer in the shower than needed, allowing your muscles to completely relax under the spray of water. That was mistake number three.

The fourth mistake was your pride. When you saw Henry, Jim, George (at least you thought, you weren’t sure, not having many classes with him) and Frank in the corridor, clearly waiting for you, since they bounced off the wall they had been resting against when you appeared, you should have probably been smarter and scream for help right away.

But no, you were being Miss Future Agent and you weren’t intimidated by four equivalents of high school jocks. Yep, this one was definitely the biggest mistake of yours.

“Fellas,” you beckoned to them, passing them gracefully, your bag over your shoulder along with the wet towel.

You barely made a few steps before a hand gripped your arm, harshly tugging you back. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you tried your best not to let it show. You turned to Henry, looking at his face, head tilted back just slightly due to his height.

“Is there a problem, Ulrich?” you asked calmly, earning a lift of his eyebrows at your tone.

“You know there is. I told you it was not over.”

You tried to ignore your pulse skyrocketing and the panic rising in your gut. You were not that stupid – you understood the implications. You knew that with four guys slowly circling you, you would have to fight bites and nails if it came to it and probably still lose. Sometimes it was just better to walk away and swallow your pride; a concept Henry and Jim clearly didn’t understand.

You jerked from Ulrich’s grip, still hoping you could walk away and call it day.

“It is over for me. Now if you’ll excuse me…“

Yes, you were being naïve thinking it would work.

The bag was torn away from your shoulder, your fingers automatically letting go to stay attached to your hand. You gritted your teeth, blood slowly reaching the boiling point.

Also, maybe you were more than just a bit afraid. Not that you would ever admit it to them.

Henry’s hand reached for your chin and your snatched it away in disgust before he could even make contact with your skin. Amusement dances in his eyes along with a flash of anger.

“Oh, kitty has claws?”

You felt another hand on your backside, sending a shudder up your spine, so you grabbed it, shoving it away as well.

Jim. Why weren’t you surprised? Pigs. What the fuck was their problem?

“I’ll let you know when I meet any. Now get out of my way,” you spat, your gut twisting as a sly grin spread on Henry’s face and he made a step right into your route.

“Or what? You’ll scratch, kitty? Or you’ll scream? Like a little girl?” he mocked you in high-pitched voice, his face lowering to yours so you were only inches apart.

“Bet you’d like that,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes when his breath with an unmistakable hint of alcohol fanned over your face. “No, I’ll offer you a breath-mint, because honestly you should do something about your breath.”

Yep, that was the mistake no.5 and definitely an enormous one.

You heard one of the guys chuckle, but you never got to enjoy the thrill of victory.

Out of blue, there was something around your neck, the weight of the towel shifting (add that to the mistake list) and your body flew backwards, colliding with a male one. George was it?

Your hands went to instinctively grab after the towel crushing your throat, but suddenly they were wrested down and pinned to your sides by strong arms. Jim had caught one, Henry another. Fucking cowards.

With your breath coming out short with both lack of oxygen and rising fear, your pulse thundering in your ears, you tried to jerk from their grip, but they wouldn’t budge, having an undeniable advantage.

Oh fuck, fuck, you were so fucked.

“Sassy little mouth, aren’t we?” Henry hummed, wry expression on his ugly face. “So dirty, feels like we should wash it with something. Who wants to go first, fellas?”

Loud alarm bells rang in your head, icy shiver running down your spine, stomach turning over.

Oh no, you don’t.

Your knee snapped up on instinct to gain the momentum, followed by a swift low kick to Jim’s knee.

He yelped and let go of your arm, allowing you to send an elbow straight to George’s face; and finally, your airways were free as the assault as the towel trap loosened.

You coughed, fighting for oxygen and mindlessly threw the item away to have at least one arm free.

“Bitch!” one of the men yelled; you weren’t sure which one, but you didn’t waste time thinking too much. Survival instinct took over.

Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes and you barely silenced the scream when Henry took advantage of your hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back. Fuck he really had a thing for that, didn’t he?

You tried to kick him, but someone else’s leg somehow managed to swept their leg under yours and you fell on your knees. Sharp tug on your hair caused you to cry out and obediently tilt your head back. Few tears escaped you, but you pushed up in attempt to get up again.

A kick coming from behind threw your body forwards and you nearly fell on your face when Henry finally let go of you. You tasted blood as you bit your cheek, but you managed to at least land on your shoulder instead of face-planting.

It still hurt like a bitch, but at least you still had all your teeth… or you thought so, not having time to check. Catching a movement from the corner of your eye, you managed to roll over before a kick to your side could hit you with full force. Frank’s foot only brushed you, but you were sure you’d have a bruise as a souvenir anyway.

A punch landed next to your face when you dodged it in the last moment, someone grabbing your legs and holding them together. Between your efforts to free them, you didn’t have time to chase away the body suddenly holding your arms as well.

“Fuck--- she’s a handful.”

A ragged battle cry erupted from your throat as you tried to jerk your body from their grip on pure instinct, every self-defence move you had ever learned flying of the window.

“More fun to break her, don’t you think?” Henry purred, his hand sneaking around your waist under the hem of your t-shirt.

Your head spun like crazy at the skin-to-skin contact and nausea hitting you hard. You wanted to puke and scream and punch and you couldn’t make yourself to do either, tears rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed in a desperate attempt to break free.

There was ringing in your ears, disorienting you, but aware of the hand suddenly covering your mouth you tried to bite it on instinct holding you down.

“Oh-ho, biting!“ you heard, strangely muffled as if you were under water.

“I like them feisty-“

“Playing hard to get!”

“Shit, SHIT-“

The pressure on your legs eased all of sudden and you immediately kicked with all you had, catching the rising figure in the calf, knocking them off balance.

“Fuck!”

You would swear the floor vibrated, but in must have only been your mind playing tricks on you. George disappeared from your field of blurry vision; you only saw a fist sending him flying sideways.

Yep, your mind was fucking making up things, because there was no way he could have been thrown away like this by a single punch. You weren’t complaining; the relief the illusion provided was almost blissful.

Henry’s body weight vanished as well in nearly supersonic speed as if he wanted to escape the illusion. So you did the first thing that came to your mind; with your hands free, you grabbed his ankle, stopping him from running away. Which, thinking about it, was stupid, because only a moment before, you would have given anything to get him the fuck away from you.

He kicked back blindly, but his sole never met with your body – he was dragged away and… and lifted to the air as if he weighted nothing.

Blinking your tears away, your fuzzy mind cleared.

Only to reveal a very muscled and very much pissed off blond slamming Henry against a wall and then letting his suddenly unconscious body slide down.

You gasped, your eyes catching a glimpse of the fourth figure – Frank – several feet away, running for his life.

“Buck?!” came a shout and before you could question it, a metal arm emerged from behind the corner, stopping Frank dead as he rushed straight into it.

“Yep?!” the dark-haired supersoldier yelled back, sounding almost amused.

What the hell was happening? What the hell just happened?!

You blood sizzled in your veins, loud and rapid thump-thump-thump banging in your ears, face damp with several shed tears, body aching and your mind fucking racing.

You heard a whimper on your left, automatically turning to the sound. It left Jim’s lips, his form crumbled on the floor, struggling to stand up.

The captain’s knee seemed to come out of nowhere, digging into Jim’s back and pinning him down again before you even registered a movement.

“Is it fucking over now?”

“Steve, let him be. Not worth it,” Barnes’ voice tried to reason, sounding rather growly, but not nearly as loud as before. He approached your group in rapid pace and Rogers scoffed and let go.

You gulped at sergeant’s angry grimace, crazily convinced he was angry with you for all the mistakes you made that lead to this; but his expression softened when his gaze fell on you.

“Hey there,” he greeted you almost casually, holding out a hand to help you up. “Can you stand?”

You blinked several times at the suddenly dispassionate tone, even if you still sensed something bubbling under it. You shook off the thought and accepted the offered hand – the flesh one. The detail didn’t escape you, your bran in overdrive. Of course he hadn’t offered you the metal arm. He didn’t want to scare you. He was thoughtful like that-

-or not. The strength he dragged you up with was way too much for you, more so when combined with the speed and your state. You stumbled over your feet, a wave of dizziness messing with your balance.

You awaited the upcoming reunion with the floor, unable to stop the fall, but it never happened. Before you could as much as reel, gentle hands supported you in a firm grip, pleasantly warm against your bare arms.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Rogers’ voice warned you, soothing. For some reason, it felt more like ‘I got you,’ instead of ‘take it easy.’

You took a deep breath, Barnes’ hand letting go of yours as he semi-voluntarily handed you over to his friend.

“You’re bleeding from your mouth.”

Thanks for the reminder, I noticed.

You swallowed the snarky remark, well-aware of the sergeant’s care. You fought against the urge to spit the blood out.

“Is fine…” you muttered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Bit my cheek. I’m pretty sure I—“ you quickly ran your tongue over your teeth just to confirm your theory, “-still have all of my teeth.”

Sergeant Barnes gave you a tiny smile, the worried crinkle that had found its way between his brows disappearing.

“Whatever you say.”

His gaze flickered to something behind your head, probably in order of exchanging a wordless conversation with your still present crutch. Not that you were complaining. The weight of what had happened was slowly settling on your shoulders and you were grateful for any support – and who were you kidding, Captain America made for a pretty reliable support.

“Why don’t we leave you in pu- Cap’s capable hands while I-“ Barnes’ jaw clenched, pale eyes scanning the four bodies on the floor, calculating. “-take out the trash?”

You nearly choked at the choice of his words, wincing. Captain Rogers’ hands squeezed your shoulders reassuringly and you nodded, not sure what else to do.

You didn’t want to look at Henry. Or Jim. Or their loyal companions.

So when the captain carefully spun you on your heels, you didn’t protest and your feet started moving on autopilot in the direction he had set.

“You okay to walk without support?” he asked softly, a stark contrast to the voice you remembered from earlier or from the training sessions.

You knew that if you said yes, he would let go of you. Honestly, his touch felt damn nice, firm and yet somewhat gentle, a pleasant contrast to harsh fingers of the men who had the nerve to attack you – you had to swallow bile rising to your mouth at the awfully fresh memory. Fuck, it had been so close, just a minute later and--- you shook your head mentally and tried your best to erase this memory from existence.

You decided not to abuse the kindness the captain was offering. After several indulging steps, you quietly confirmed he could release you. You found out that sensing his large frame by your side as if he was your bodyguard was nearly as comforting. Nearly.

You didn’t have the strength admonish yourself for basking the light of his protective persona. Future agent of not, you still had the right to want to feel secure at times.

After all, you were only human.

A Handful of Truths

You didn’t realize you were shaking until a blanket was tossed over your shoulders.

You were sitting on a short couch in what looked like a cosy office, hair still damp, body finally registering the ache caused by previous events, just like your brain was slowly taking in what had happened.

Captain Rogers, whose courtesy was to escort you from the hellhole you had been attacked in, had clearly took it as a personal mission to take care of your injuries; it hadn’t dawned to you until you were seated and your mind helpfully supplied you with ‘This isn’t the infirmary’.

He pulled a swivel chair to sit face to face with you, a box of medical supplies left open on the coffee table at your side. You didn’t realize he had moved the chair or dug the box from god-knew-where until the items were simply there.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, attentive eyes scanning your hunched form. You instinctively curled onto yourself, snuggling further into the blanket. You knew you should come up with an answer, but your brain started to hurt with the effort to do so. “I guess that’s fair. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”

You quickly glanced at his openly kind face, his baby blues still watching for any reaction that would clue him. Your throat went dry at the compassion of display and you had to swallow before speaking – and think. What hurt the most…?

You didn’t know what possessed you to tell him what you did, but it came out before you could stop yourself.

“My pride,” you croaked, causing his eyebrows jump just like the corner of his lips.

“That’s probably fair too. Then again, I’d rather know about something I can fix.”

You felt your body relax a little at his informal tone – you might even say a jovial one, but you could still sense too much worry behind it to call it that. You attempted a tiny smile at least to show him that you were more or less fine – you weren’t – and brilliantly failed.

“Landed on my shoulder. Probably gonna have a bruise on my side from when… when they kicked me. Ribs and arms might be a bit tender for few days, ‘cause they were heavy as they--- they’re heavy,” you voice wavered as you saw the muscles on the captain’s forearms clench and his hands curled up in fists. You sheepishly looked up to his face. “I got lucky.”

His eyebrows rose again in a ‘figures’ manner as he leaned back to the chair.

“Nothing else apart from that, your cheek and your pride?”

“I’m a little cold, but you took care of that,” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you tugged on the blanket pointedly.

Despite what you were saying, you didn’t feel okay, the tremble never quite leaving your body. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. You stared at your knight in shining armour, gathering courage to do what was needed. You tried your best to meet his gaze, feeling so small and embarrassingly weak in front of him.

“Could have been much worse if you haven’t showed up. Thank you.”

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He leaned in, his elbows on his knees.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster... I should have kept closer eye on Ulrich,” he muttered under his breath, making you wonder if you only imagined it. “Your pride shouldn’t be hurt. You held yourself against them just fine.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the honestly his voice held – and you were honestly grateful for the slight shift of attention. Oh. Had he forgotten how things had been when he had arrived?

You weren’t sure whether you should remind him. You definitely didn’t want to remind yourself, but before you could solve your little dilemma, he clarified.

“You haven’t started training the combat against multiple opponents yet. Let alone four opponents, all of them having both height and weight advantage. You couldn’t exactly go all Black Widow on them if no one showed you how.”

He accented his words with a reassuring smile and you almost believed him. The shivers finally eased, most likely thanks to the warm treatment you were being given in all senses of the word. The inner cold gradually melted and you were left in nothing but pleasant warmth.

Mentally, you patted your pride gently on its head; you couldn’t quite disagree with him. No matter how helpless you had felt earlier and how ashamed for it you were, the truth was you were still learning. You weren’t a finished agent yet.

You breathed in and out, avoiding the gaze that was still on you. It felt like a freaking brand with how intense it was. You couldn’t say you hated it necessarily, you only wished you at least didn’t look so pathetic. No make-up, probably red with a smudge on blood somewhere, perhaps with some bruising already forming, hair wet and messy. You absently ran your fingers through it in attempt to fix it a bit as if it could help.

What had you been talking about? Right… those assholes being cowards and coming at your four against one.

“I… I just fucking hate bullies,” you grumbled darkly, your hand immediately covering your mouth when you realized what you had said. Oh. Language. Still your superior you’re talking to, no matter how nice. “Sorry. Please, pretend you didn’t hear the f-word. I just hate bullies, period.”

“I might have sworn earlier too, so let’s call it even,” the captain offered, one corner of his lips raised. Oh. He had, hadn’t he? ‘Is it fucking over now?’ What did that even mean? “And so I heard.”

“What?” you yelped, your mind racing again in search for the meaning behind his words.

“I mean… I heard you. When you were defending Bucky, in the gym. I’m pretty sure your exact words were about a ‘pissing contest’.”

“Oh god,” you breathed out, your face no doubt set aflame. He had heard you; that was why he had said he should have kept a closer eye on Henry. Oh. Ohhhh.

Also, did he just say ‘pissing’?

“You weren’t wrong by the way. But… neither were them.”

You blinked in surprise. What? “About?”

You knew he didn’t mean the sleeping around with recruits, your gut was screaming that at you, because they wouldn’t, but still, you rather asked for clarification. If he didn’t mean that part, which one then?

“Ladies do fall over for Bucky,” he hummed with a lopsided smile, a playful twinkle in his eyes. It did something to your belly, a strange familiar shift that was very inappropriate, but hell, people needed to cut you some slack. He was impossible not to ogle and you didn’t have the energy to control your reaction after today’s events. “And I don’t really pull my punches when I’m training those two in particular.”

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and think better of it.

His gaze bored into yours, burning with intensity and with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I don’t like bullies either.”

Did he lean in even more or were you so focused on his face it only seemed closer?

You weren’t able to look away. His blue eyes simply locked you in, not allowing you to escape. The strangest thing was that it wasn’t scary. It should be, he was— he was a freaking captain, your superior, a superior to a lot of people, which you were constantly forgetting ever since he had saved you from falling on your ass in the hallway and you had to remember that.

Before you could though, your racing mind packed up and let your body, your mouth to be precise, act without supervision.

“Not trying to impress the ladies then, huh?”

His tiny sheepish smile cut off the uprising panic in your chest when you realized how bold of you was to say that. He lowered his gaze, giving a subtle shrug. “Guess I wouldn’t want one falling for guy’s muscles and a show-off of dominance.”

“What for then? Honesty? Sincerity? Kind eyes? Strong moral compass?” you heard yourself prying, internally horrified how far you had come when saying that. Your face was drained of colour when it clicked. You were literally naming things you liked about him, absolutely shamelessly putting them in the open. Oh shit. Fix it, fix it, fix it! “…the sass?”

His eyes went wide and he burst out laughing so loud it startled you for a second, especially as he threw his head back with the outburst. Then you reluctantly joined him, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“The sass!” he howled, unable to hold back another fit of laughter and when you peeked at him through between your fingers, you saw his palm resting against his chest as if it could help him stop laughing.

Just like that, blood rushed back into your cheeks.

“Oh god, I made it worse!” you cried out, wishing for the earth to swallow you, frantically looking around for the fastest escape route. “Oh my god, I have to switch schools now… excuse me-“

You hastily got up from your seat, but a quick hand snatched yours, pulling you back.

You stumbled, landing ungracefully right back in your place, this time without the blanket. Captain Rogers was watching you with the corners of his lips high, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry for grabbing you like that. But no, please. Stay.”

Your throat closed off when you heard his soft plea, only traces of humour in it. Yeah, you bet he hadn’t met anyone with such big mouth for a while, so he thought it was better to keep the comic around.

“Captain Rogers, I-I- what I said, it was completely out of line-“ you stuttered, only to be interrupted.

“Were you making it up?” he questioned.

You gulped, your mind screaming at you to say yes to save you the humiliation. And yet, with the cerulean irises staring into your eyes, your mouth did the exact opposite.

“No.”

Dammit.

“Then why would you go?” he questioned softly. His hand still didn’t leave yours, only easing the grip into a kinder one. You felt like a brand was being burned into your skin. A pleasant one, so you didn’t retreat. Oh, you’d never. But what on Earth was he getting at? “We need someone honest like you. People who stand up for others, even if only to defend their honour. That is the kind of people who should be in this line of work. The good ones.”

You opened your mouth, no sound coming out as his speech shook you to your core, tickling your stomach pleasantly along with your pride. His words seemed to be coming from heart, genuine, which was not helping your blood pressure and suddenly wobbling limbs.

“Even when they have potty mouth and put their foot in it? ‘Cause I seem to excel in that.”

“Especially then,” he chuckled and you could tell there was no pinch of a lie in it.

Something was in the air, crackling deliciously, and you liked it. You wouldn’t be able to describe it properly, the feeling simply too unique, but it was tickling your fancy so weren’t about to complain.

“O-okay. Thank you, Captain,” you whispered, revelling in the sight of the gentle curve of his lips.

“You started with the compliments, Agent.”

And just like that, you wanted to run for your life again, drowning in embarrassment.

What were you even still doing here? Complimenting him? Enjoying his touch? Flirting with him?

Were you nuts?!

Him, a captain— no, the captain. And you, an agent--- hell, you were not even an agent yet!

The captain whose eyes flickered to not-an-agent’s lips for the shortest of moments, widening a fraction before returning to her eyes.

Oh, now you were definitely going nuts. You were hallucinating. You must have hit your head too. He wasn’t into you and you being into him was very stupid.

You should go.

…any moment now.

…just get off your ass for god’s sake-

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked yourself back to reality, shushing the voice in your head, curious smile appearing on your lips involuntarily. The softness of his voice felt better than the blanket before and you wanted to cocoon yourself in it, postponing the leaving plans to never.

“Sure,” you replied, the smile remaining on your face despite your better judgement.

He lowered his eyes to your joined hands, his thumb running over the back of your hand in a feather-light touch. You heart positively stopped at the moment, your breath hitching. Holy shit, what was he doing?

“This, does it… do you hate it?” he whispered the question, not meeting your eyes as if he was too shy, which was… ridiculous. He had no reason to be shy.

It still felt like a shot through your heart – a nice one, though, it that was possible. The words combined with the way they were spoken, it stirred something in your belly, warming it up and you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You really wanted this man; whatever this was, it was getting beyond a silly crush. Also, for some reason, it seemed as if he was trying to tell you he was interested too, which you thought was pretty freaking crazy.

“Stay honest, please,” he pleaded when you didn’t answer right away.

Did you hate it? The chastest display of affection if you dared to call it that? Your mind raced, trying to figure out why on earth he would ask that. Because the only reason you had come up with so far was completely impossible.

“No,” you said simply, earning a brief glance up before he looked down again. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Good. That’s good… and would you… I’m aware this is out of line and I—I want you to answer truthfully without fearing the consequences-…“

It was your turn to swallow loudly, because what? What did he want to ask that he considered it out of line? He was your superior – you could think of thousand ways of how you could get out of line, but him? And why should you fear the consequences?! Did he want you to help him to hide a body?

That’s not it and you know it. You know what he wants to ask, you rational side admonished you.

Oh please, shut up. Since when you switched sides?

“O-okay. What— what is it-- Steve?” you stuttered out, freezing when his name left your lips and his head snapped up, his hand giving yours a squeeze. Oh boy.

“Would you possibly say you like it?” he blurted out and your brain went to overdrive at the hope behind his expression.

Huh. He really just asked that. Oh shit. Oh wow. Your jaw fell into your lap – only figuratively, you hoped –, your ears buzzing, your blood bursting in excitement.

Oh yeah, you understood why he mentioned the consequences. Either you could say no and you’d fear he might treat you differently or you could say yes and you’d ‘fear’ he might treat you differently.

The fire in your insides burned hotter at the idea of the latter.

His hand slowly left yours, giving you a simple choice you still couldn’t believe you were given.

Holy shit. What do you even say to something like that? Coming from someone like him? Your brain froze as you only managed to stare.

Did his— did the corners of his lips turn down? Was that sadness pooling in the sea of blue of his eyes?

Oh no, you don’t.

“Y-yes,” you admitted sheepishly, closing your eyes at the heaviness of your confession.

You could feel the weight on your shoulders as silence fell, only interrupted by your soft breathing that sounded ominously loud.

Your fingers twitched when his warm palm covered them again, your lips parting in surprise. You kept your eyes closed, indulging the strange moment. His free hand caressed your other as well, the gentlest of touches, tender, contrasting with rough callouses on his fingers.

“I like it too.”

At that, you gathered enough courage to look at him, only to see him inspecting your face closely, observing your reactions. It shocked you that it wasn’t uncomfortable as you would expect; must have been the kindness and wonder in his gaze. You forced your lips to curl up in a tiniest smile. Steve smiled back with same hesitance, his face lighting up.

He looked like a boy next door (making it to a modelling agency), shining eyes and happy grin forming on his lips. He was more gorgeous than ever.

Still keeping your hands, he raised his right one, his knuckles brushing your unharmed cheek. The gesture was so tender it brought tears into your eyes, causing him quickly retreat.

“Sorry-“

You shook your head with a self-deprecating chuckle, squeezing his fingers before he could let go of you completely.

“It’s not you—I mean… it is you,” you babbled nonsensically, taking a breath to gather your thoughts. “It’s just— that was really sweet. No, that’s not-“ Not the right word. “It was beautiful. I swear I never felt so…” loved “-cared for in my life.”

He frowned, a shadow of pain running over his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that today was… unpleasant.”

Seeing his reluctance and discomfort, you went for the first thing that came up to your mind. You straightened up and pressed a light kiss on his cheek, withdrawing much slowly because once you were in his orbit, it was hard to leave.

His breath hitched, his eyes glued to you intently, flickering to your lips again.

“You didn’t upset me, Steve. That’s the last thing you could do with that,” you assured him, face still inches from his. His name rolled off your tongue easily this time, even though it still left your heart fluttering.

“And if I asked you to have dinner with me?”

Your stomach twisted in a pleasant knot at that suggestion, your lizard brain already thinking about having a dessert for a second; and you weren’t thinking cake or ice-cream.

Yeah, barely. This was a guy ready to treat you right, you were sure of it. He certainly wasn’t about to kiss you now, not afar what happened today, he might go for it after the dinner and that was only if you got lucky enough. You swallowed the disappointment at the idea, quickly shaking it off.

Make up your goddamn mind, woman. You should be glad that men who weren’t thinking with their lower brain still existed and one of those was clearly interested in you, which… yeah, what the hell, that might take a while getting used to. Add the fact that he was being incredibly considerate of how you might feel after being assaulted and you had a winner of your heart. You realized you were actually happy he wouldn’t try anything even nearly ‘funny’.

You were fine with hand-holding and brushes of his fingers on your face, which honestly, the tenderness behind that gesture made you toes curl. You didn’t care much if that made you a freaking sap.

“Still not upset,” you gave an answer at last, deciding he probably liked when you were a bit cheeky.

He offered a closed lipped smile in response, confirming your theory.

“Does that count like a yes?”

You shrugged, the corners of your lips twitching. You had no idea when the change had happened, but all you wanted now was to giggle. And maybe snuggle, but you weren’t about to say that out loud.

“You tell me.”

He licked his lips and shook his head as he retreated. Before you could protest – or have a heart attack, because the motion of his tongue attracted your gaze like a magnet, setting your core on fire –, he sat beside you, leaving enough space in case you didn’t like it.

You liked it, subtly moving an inch closer to his side. Damn, he radiated warmth. Maybe just a bit closer…?

“Cheeky dame, aren’t you?” Steve more stated than asked, reaching for the blanket pooled around you to cover you again.

You didn’t realize you had goosebumps before his hands gently tugged you in, careful not to touch you where you could consider it inappropriate.

Yeah, forget about any funny business any time soon.

You huffed. “Clearly. It did get me into trouble before.”

His eyes darkened a bit, his face noticeably falling.

No, nope, bad move, miss not-an-agent.

“I should walk you back to your dorm,” he remarked, already rising to his feet.

You first reaction was to say no, because you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Your second was to say no also, because Shauna probably still had her hot date.

Instead, your hand shot up to catch his, effectively stopping him. He froze before returning to his seat, tiny question mark in a place of his face right next to his soft smile.

You cleared your throat, deciding to give him the latter reason.

“Uhm… my roommate has a date. If I go there, I’ll probably find a sock on the doorknob,” you admitted, biting your lip when he raised an eyebrow and relaxed to the cushions.

“People still do that?”

You chuckled, the fact that not only he was a captain, but also Captain America, which meant he was about hundred years old, hitting you like a train.

“Yeah, people still do that,” you assured him, amused.

He pouted, which you found unfairly adorable and… kissable. Nope, later.

“Sure, make fun of the old man…” he uttered, but a spark of laughter lighted up in his irises, so you assessed he wasn’t too offended. He was most likely used to the teasing.

As an idea of interpreting his words differently popped in your mind, you grinned.

“Is that a permission to make fun of Sergeant Barnes?” you pried playfully, sending Steve into another surprised fit of laughter, not unlike when you had complimented his sass. Your heart swelled at the joyful picture of him and the prospect of seeing more of it in future.

Due to his laughter, you didn’t hear he knock on the door if there was any n the first place. The door simply swung open, revealing the other supersoldier. Speak of the Devil…

Seeing his friend, Steve burst out laughing once more. Sergeant Barnes closed the door with a puzzled look.

You just shrugged in response, opening your mouth without a sound coming out and he took in the scene in front of him again, a smirk appearing on his lips. Under that gaze, you felt your face heat up. You could only imagine how that looked like, Steve cosily close to you, laughing, your hand right next to his thigh as his outburst had sent it sliding from his hand.

The smirk on the supersoldier’s face only deepened when he noticed how flustered he had made you.

“Punk?” he questioned and Steve wheezed once more, raising a palm in the sergeant’s direction, turning to you first.

He offered you a hand to shake. Confused, you accepted as his eyes twinkling in mischief bored into yours.

“Deal,” he mouthed, sending your lips twitching, and only then he shifted his attention to his friend. “Buck?”

The supersoldier had his eyes narrowed, watching you suspiciously.

“I’m gonna regret sending you with her instead of doing it the other way around, aren’t I?” he stated, not actually asking as his gaze flickered between the two of you.

His expression pushed you over the edge and the giggle building up in your chest for the last few minutes finally broke free. You simply couldn’t contain it anymore despite having two superiors in the room. Steve gave you a warm smile as the sound left your lips, clearly not bothered by it.

You hoped you’d be forgiven by Sergeant Barnes as well. After all, you were just human.

“Yeah, Buck, I think you are.”

S.R. masterlist

Sorry for the cavities at the end. Or should I say ‘you’re welcome’? Whatever works for you :))

Thank you for reading!

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hopesbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Summary: It’s been a long day, and all you really want is get a little stress relief. Preferably the type with no clothes and a man between your thighs.

Pairing: Post CA:TWS Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, Curse Words, SMUT 18+ (oral sex {f & m recieving}, face fucking, derogatory words, light bondage, use of underwear as a gag, fingering, metal arm kink, let me know if i left a warning out please) - if underage do not read or engage!!

A/N: Major thank you to @starbxcks for beta reading this and helping edit it, and to @ballyhoobarnes for helping with my awful russian translations. Love you both💓 (ps guys this is so different from my usual writings, let me know if i should keep it up👀)

You had one thought on your mind when you entered the lounge. And it was not an innocent one. Today had been awful, and you just wanted to deal with it with orgasms. So you made sure to look the part, short dress that dipped a little too low in the cleavage and heels high enough you could reach the sky. The looks you got walking down the sidewalk and snickers from men catcalling you didn’t even matter.

You were desperate enough to break out the expensive perfume. It was that type of bad day. You even got a hotel room, knowing you didn’t want this night to bleed into your night in any way. Just a simple hookup.

When you get into the building it’s packed. The lights are low and neon lights illuminate from above. You walk straight to the bar and ask the bartender for a vodka shot and down it before scoping out the room.

To the end of the bar sits a man that immediately holds your attention. His dark hair is tied back in a bun, and he has a leather jacket on. You silently hope he’s a biker because you’re in the mood for something dangerous. You take a seat a few chairs down from his and look over at him again. This time he meets your gaze and you’re awestruck by his eyes. You can’t make out the exact color, but they’re piercing. His face is covered in scruff and he is the most gorgeous man you’ve seen in a long time.

He sticks his hand up, covered in a leather glove, to signal for the bartender and after a few moments, you’re given a colorful cocktail that looks more sugar than alcohol. You walk over to him and take the seat next to him.

“Thank you for the drink. Although it’s not really my kind of drink,” you say with a devious smirk.

“What’s a pretty girl like you drink then?” he asks turning his body towards you.

“Scotch and soda,” you say and he orders the drink giving the other one back. He looks like he’s nursing a bourbon.

“You meeting up with someone?” he asks looking at your silky blue dress.

“Just you,” you say boldly sipping on your drink. He nods and a small smile sits on his face.

“Just me huh?” he says with a light chuckle.

“You wanna stay and chit chat, or do you want to see what’s beneath this?” you ask grabbing your purse from the counter.

He chokes a bit on his drink but reaches into his wallet and places a couple of bills down and follows you out of the dimly lit lounge.

You guide the man towards your hotel, but realize you should probably know his name before you screw this man six ways to Sunday.

“What’s your name?” you ask in the hotel lobby.

“James,” he says quickly.

“Call me Y/N when I’m beneath you,” you say winking and tug him into the elevator. He follows along but the moment the doors shut he is anything but submissive.

James’ lips are searing against yours. His mouth molds against yours as he pushes your back against the wall of the small chute. One hand cups your face gently while the other is pushed against the wall keeping the pair of you steady. His tongue licks the seam of your mouth begging for an entrance. A sinful moan leaves your throat and he groans at the noise.

With a ding, you pull apart and drag him out of the lift and towards your hotel room. You can barely focus enough to get the key in the door before he opens the door and slams it shut throwing the key into the room without caution. He immediately meets you again and the gasp that leaves your lips is enough for him to tangle his tongue with yours once again. He lifts you up and walks you into the room, and you’re tugging his hair the entire time.

You trail your lips to his neck as he sets you down and he takes the moment to rid himself of the jacket. After leaving your mark on his body (for the first of many times tonight) you go to take off the gloves but he flinches.

“I’ve got-” he says showing you a metal appendage. Your eyes go wide and he goes to recover it but you grab the glove.

“If that isn’t in me at least once tonight, then this has been a waste of my time,” you say and he blinks at you twice before smirking and reaching behind you to undo the tie holding your flimsy dress together.

You loosen the dress and let it pool at your feet, and kick your heels off as well. It wasn’t the kind of dress to be held down by a bra, and you toss your thong to the side. It leaves you in front of him bare. But that doesn’t seem to bother him at all, in fact, it has the exact effect you hope for when you notice his jeans tighten around his bulge. He rips his t-shirt off his body and you can tell that his entire shoulder is scarred. But you pay it no mind and rake your long nails up his abdomen.

“You gonna put those pouty lips to use for me, сахар?” he asks and you nod. Something about hearing him speak a foreign language just made this man hotter.

You kneel down in front of him and undo his belt and pull it off. You go to put it on the ground when he grabs it from you instead. He bends it around your arms creating two loops for your hands. He slides it tighter and drops your arms behind your body.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Okay.” You answer, already feeling your excitement coat your thighs. This would be a night you wouldn’t forget for sure.

James pulls off his jeans and boxers and you can’t help but stare at how big he is. You’re not going to be able to walk straight tomorrow, that’s for sure.

“You gonna suck me filthy girl?” he asks stepping closer to you. You nod your head in obedience, licking your lips at the thought of him deep down your throat. “Treat me right and I’ll fuck that poor neglected pussy with my hand, tongue, and cock. Не могу Дождаться когда я увижу тебя разрушил.”

You can’t believe he actually said that and a moan slips from your lips in response. James slips his thumb between your glossy lips and you suck on it. He grabs his hard cock and brings it to your lips. You lick a long stripe up the vein beneath him and kiss down the sides teasing him. But you can tell he doesn’t like this when he pulls your head to look him in the eyes. You bat your eyelashes and keep eye contact as you pull just the tip of him into your mouth.

He loops his hand in your hair creating a ponytail to tug on. You pull back and repeat the entire motion, licking him up, kissing him, and sucking just the smallest amount of him. You know you’re teasing the man but you can’t help it. After giving considerable attention to the pre-cum covered tip you bob your head and take half of him into your mouth. He lets out a deep groan and it goes straight to your core.

“Fuck me,” he groans and you set a slow pace of taking just half of him into your mouth. You make sure to breathe through your nose steadily and calm yourself as you take more of him in. You make sure to look back up at him and pull your head back leaving your mouth open in a perfect O.

James takes the hint and smirks and starts thrusting his hips into your mouth. You wish more than anything to be able to trail a hand down to where you need it most, but his belt constricts this. So you let yourself be his personal toy for a few minutes. He uses a combination of thrusting his hips and pulling your hair to create a perfect face fucking speed.

The whole time he’s muttering words you don’t understand, “такие красивые сиськи” and “не могу дождаться, чтобы увидеть вас на моем петух ребенка”

You can feel tears running down your face and you know you must look like a wreck but to be honest, you do not care at all.

You can see his breathing get rougher, and his stomach muscles contract. “Гавно,” he says darkly and you know he’s close. There’s spit drooling down your mouth, and it mixes with the tears he caused.

“You’re gonna swallow it all, hear me Котик?” he says tugging harshly on your hair. All you can do is blink in response, your hands and head are not your own at this moment.

James speeds up his thrusts and with a deep grunt, he shoots his seed down your throat. The salty smell coats your senses and you swallow it all down. You make sure to lightly suck him clean and he pulls out and makes sure to trail the last little bit from your lips into your mouth.

“Such a good little cock sucker, huh? Bet you want your reward now,” he notes eyeing you up and down. You nod in agreement. He walks away from you and your eyes furrow in confusion. But he comes back with a glass of water and tells you to drink it. You can’t exactly move your arms, so he helps you drink it.

It’s a sweet moment in contrast to what’s to come. He sets the glass down on the nightstand and grabs your waist bringing you to your feet, before hauling you onto the bed. He reaches to undo the belt letting your wrists free.

“These,” he says grabbing your hands and putting them on the headboard, “Stay here.”

“Yes sir,” you say licking your lips excited. If his actions were anything to go by, he’d be one hell of a god at getting you off.

You’re practically panting when his rough hand tweaks your nipple. The cold metal one slides down your skin, tracing your breasts and stomach.

“Please,” you whine and he gives you a look.

“I liked it better when you were gagging on my cock. Quieter that way Котик,” he says as he palms one breast and slaps the other. You didn’t even know that him playing with your breasts would turn you on as much as it did but god you felt good as he palmed them.

He trains his fingers back up and places the metal ones at the seam of your mouth. You open submissively as he says “Соси”. You assume this means something along the lines of getting his fingers wet, so you coat them in your spit.

“James, fuck me already!” you beg and he pauses his actions.

“Can’t even keep your mouth shut huh Проститутка?” he asks and reaches off the bed to grab your discarded thong. He stuffs the lacy fabric in your mouth to keep you muffle your whining. Since your mouth is no longer able to, he spits on his fingers and then, without warning, plunges them deep in you. It’s only two fingers, a much smaller width than his cock but they already have you seeing stars.

The cold metal of his fingers gives such a high contrast to the practical heat coming from your core. You’re the epitome of hot and bothered at this moment, and the only remedy is James. This man who you just met hours ago (and has barely even touched you) is easily one of your best hookups.

He’s pushing his fingers in and out at such a rampant pace that it’s slamming you against the headboard. Mangled moans leave your stuffed lips as you look at the delicious man between your thighs. You feel your climax building as he whispers foreign words in your ear.

“Такая плотная и мокрая киска,” he says and you don’t know what it means but it’s enough to nearly tip you over.

That is until he halts his movements and gives you a devious smirk when you lift your head to look at him.

“James!” you try to yell at him but it comes out muffled and distorted. He leans down and licks up your thigh collecting everything that’s soaked them. It is by far the hottest thing you’ve seen. He thoroughly cleans every inch of you, teasing by not touching where you need him most.

You groan in frustration and he bites down on your thigh, sucking a hickey near where you want his lips.

“Нужно оставить напоминание обо мне, кукла. Now, be a good girl and spread your legs for me.” he says sternly. You widen them further and he tugs them apart. He lays down on his stomach and you can finally feel his hot breath on your soaked center.

His tongue slowly licks from your opening to the hood of your clit. He groans at your taste, “sweet like cinnamon baby,” then he dives back in. His hand grips your thigh and you know it’ll be a bruise in the morning light but you don’t care.

James licks a few more stripes, going up and down and your eyes roll back into your head as you pant. He meets your gaze and winks before spitting on your core and pushing his tongue into you, licking you out from the inside. You lift your head in time to watch him swallow your essence.

He doesn’t let up as he sinks his tongue back in, alternating between tongue fucking you and sucking on your clit. He brings his metal hand back and pushes it in, and you feel your orgasm build again.

The suction on your clit and pressure from his fingers has twisted moans falling from your lips only muffled by the lace of your panties.

“That’s it Котик,” he says before sucking again. And when he crooks his fingers you let go. Stars flood your senses, and you explode all over him. But James laps it all up, not letting an ounce get away from him.

He pulls the thong from your mouth and places his fingers in your mouth to suck. You grab them with one hand and clean them for him, releasing with a pop.

“Good baby doll?” he asks and you nod too tired to answer. “How about a bath then we continue this?” he asks and you smile.

“Just need a little bit, then I’m going to ride you into the sunset James,” you say fluttering your eyes. This was definitely the remedy to your bad day.

Translations: сахар- sugar, Не могу Дождать��я когда я увижу тебя разрушил- i can’t wait to see you fucking ruined, такие красивые сиськи- such pretty tits, не могу дождаться, чтобы увидеть вас на моем петух ребенка- can’t wait to see you on my cock baby, Гавно- shit, Котик- kitten, Соси- suck, Проститутка- slut, Такая плотная и мокрая киска- such a tight wet pussy, Нужно оставить напоминание обо мне, кукла- need to leave a remind of me, baby doll

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky barnes smut #post catws #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut

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echoghost1 · 4 years ago

Text

You Walked Right Into This

Word Count: 1976 For @phantomphangphucker

Summary: Sometimes walking is more than just walking.

can be read on AO3 or down below the cut

Edit: I added a summary

Danny walked through the doorway thinking that today was just going to be another day. Oh, how wrong he was.

Without any warning at all, his mom sprayed something right in his face as he walked in. The harsh smell of the aerosol had him gagging immediately. He tried to cough it out of his system, but it felt like he had just swallowed broken glass.

His eyes watered as he stumbled onto his knees.

“What was that?” he barely managed to choke out between his labored wheezes.

He heard the spray nozzle go off again and just hoped it wasn’t being directed at him.

One of his parents took a deep breath, they must have sprayed themselves as a test. Danny placed his forehead on the tile hoping the cool flooring would help him focus on breathing.

A hand pulled him up by the hair rougher than his parents had ever handled him before and made him look at them. His mom was the culprit, because of course she was.

“You picked the wrong kid to possess, Ghost!”

“What?” Now she thinks he’s a ghost? After all this time and all the ghostly things he had done while he was still getting used to his powers, this is what convinces her?

“You heard me! Now get out of my son this instant!”

“Mads, shouldn't've the ecto-cleanser knocked the bugger out of him?” his dad asked in what was his best attempt at a whisper.

“It must be a strong one. Or it’s just got a strong grip anyway.”

“Mom, wait.”

He wasn’t sure what he wanted right now. He wasn’t sure what the best thing to do was. Should he admit he’s part ghost or try to keep the lie going?

He just wished he could breathe long enough to think.

“Don’t call me that!” she gripped his hair harder and pulled one of her ecto-guns to his temple.

The way the metal barrel rested so neatly to the side of his head tripped some deep-seated primal fear. If he hadn’t already been crying from his body trying to reject the toxin, he would have started now.

“No, wait! Wait! Please!” he tried to get out of her grip if just to get away from the gun so he wouldn’t get shot point-blank.

His squirming only made her press it harder into him.

His need to survive overrode his need for secrecy.

He phased out of her grip and blindly crawled away.

He still couldn’t properly breathe, he could barely see, but this was his home. He just needed to reach the stairs. If he could get up the stairs he could get to Jazz or maybe even outside.

He just needed to reach the stairs.

Something grabbed him from behind and he screamed.

He screamed so loud it bordered dangerously close to his wail.

He never wailed in human form before.

It hurt.

His hand hit the first step but before he could pull himself up something sharp hit him in the back and the next thing he knew was darkness.

===============================================

Danny opened his eyes slowly but closed them again when the light above him was too bright.

He rubbed his eyes and tried opening them again while he used his hand to shield himself from the light.

“-’s awake.”

Danny turned toward the voice and found his parents.

They were still in the lab.

Only now he was sitting inside the containment unit while they stood just outside. They were staring at him like he was an animal on display at the zoo.

He took a breath and found it didn’t hurt as much as before. It was still uncomfortable, like having a sore throat. He wondered if he asked for a lozenge if he would actually get one.

He probably should save the jokes for later.

Like when he wasn’t being held hostage in his own home by his parents who may or may not think he’s possessed.

He figured he should start simple, “What’s going on?”

“You’re being quarantined until we can figure out what’s going on with you.”

“And once you figure that out?” he asked hoping it meant they would let him out but fearing they wouldn’t.

“That depends on what we find now doesn't it?”

“What if you find out something you don’t like?”

“Like what?”

“Like something ghost-related?” He asked then quickly added, “Like ecto-contamination or something?” so that it wouldn’t sound like he was being over-shadowed.

Because he wasn’t.

“Then we’ll get rid of it.”

“What if you can’t?”

His mom gave him a very condescending look, “oh course we can. Human biology and ectoplasm don’t mix. It’s just a fact.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am! Now stop asking stupid questions I have work to do!”

“I’m not,” he stammered.

“We’re the ones that will be asking the questions from now on.” She spat before pulling her hood up and obscuring her eyes with her red-tinted goggles.

He was starting to hate those goggles.

“Who are you.” she interrogated.

“I’m Danny.” his voice cracked from how sore it still was.

“Nice try, Spook!” his dad jeered, “But I know my boy and he ain’t you!”

Danny couldn’t help how his fists clenched at that. What exactly had he done that was so different that he was unrecognizable.

“I’ll only ask you one more time,” his mother warned, “who are you.”

“I already told you! I’m Danny! I’ve been Danny the whole time! Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because ghosts are liars!”

“Then what do you want me to say? How can I prove I’m not lying?” he begged.

His parents looked at each other. Based on their body language they hadn’t been expecting him to say that.

His mom turned to him again, gave him a good long stare before nodding to herself.

Danny didn’t get a chance to ask what she was thinking before she wandered off and picked up a scanner from one of the lab tables.

With a quick flick, she powered it on and pointed it at Danny. The handheld machine whirred and blinked before letting out a shrill beep.

She looked at the readings then back to Danny. Then back to the readings.

His dad leaned over her shoulder to take a peak. “It’s the same.”

She nodded slowly, a frown forming on her face.

Danny wasn’t entirely sure what that scanner did, or what they were so confused about. He didn’t want to get yelled at again, but he also really wanted to know what they were looking at. “What’s the same?”

“The readings. They’re the same. When we built this,” she hesitated as the scanner slowly lowering in her hands toward the floor as if it was suddenly too heavy. “We tested it on everyone in the house, just to get a baseline reading. To know what to look for.”

His dad took the scanner and set it on the table before she could drop it.

“But it’s the same. You’re readings, they haven’t changed since the last time.”

“So? What does that mean?” did that mean they believed him or did they think something somehow worse?

She moved her head in a sort of half nod half grimace.

Not exactly reassuring.

“It means you’re not over-shadowed?” she said with not nearly enough certainty to ease his nerves.

His dad put a hand on her shoulder, “We’ll figure this out Mads. We always do.”

“Does this mean I can go to my room now? Since we all agree that I’m me?”

God, he really hoped that’s the conclusion they came to otherwise he’d sound like an idiot.

“I just don’t understand why he reacted so badly to the ecto-cleanser.” his mom said totally ignoring him.

“Mom.”

“You’d think we pepper-sprayed him.”

“Mom!”

She turned to face him again, thankfully removing her hood, “What?”

“Can you let me out now?”

“Oh, right?” she looked to her husband who merely shrugged.

She sighed and rolled her eyes before entering the combination and unlocking the door.

Danny got up carefully from his spot on the floor and slowly made his way over. He hesitated only for a second when he got to the doorway because his parents were still right there.

He suppressed the urge to run and walked past them as casually as he could.

He couldn’t let them know he was afraid. Couldn’t let them know how much he didn’t trust them not to just push him back inside and make sure he never got out again.

He just had to pretend it was an honest mistake. That they didn’t just hurt him with one of their inventions.

Again.

That he was just a normal teenager in a normal house with normal parents that didn’t hunt him for a living.

Once he made it to the stairs he gripped the railing with more force than necessary just to anchor himself. To make sure he didn’t just fly up and up and up.

He made sure to walk.

He closed the basement door and kept walking.

He walked into the living room.

He stopped and knew he had a choice to make.

He checked his pocket and found, miraculously, that his phone was still there and charged.

He walked to the front door and just kept walking. He just walked right out.

He didn’t want what happened to happen again.

He couldn’t.

He just knew they wouldn’t let him go so easily the next time.

So he wouldn’t stick around for there to be a ‘next time’.

His vision blurred as he opened his messager app. Luckily he had planned for this, so he didn’t need to think. Didn’t need to see his screen as he selected the pre-typed message.

A message that he knew would be understood by his intended recipient.

He hit send and kept walking.

He didn’t need to see to know where he was going. He’d walked there a million times before.

His phone buzzed but he didn’t bother to check it. He had to keep walking.

He was afraid if he stopped he wouldn’t go through with it. That he’d go back.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t go back. He couldn’t be there anymore. That was the last straw.

His destination was up ahead.

He walked up the front steps and knocked on the door. His hands were far too shaky. He didn’t knock hard enough.

He knocked harder.

The door opened and he was pulled inside. His vision was so blurry he couldn’t even see who was holding him, but he knew.

The door closed behind him as they led him further into the house. They gently coaxed him to the living room.

His shin hit the sofa and he collapsed. He couldn’t walk any further.

He also couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He was pulled into a hug and he clung to them as his if life depended on it. And in a way it did.

He had to let it out.

So he did.

He let it all out.

All the fear and the doubt and so, so, many tears.

He knew what happened wasn’t the worst. He had way worse nightmares. They usually involved Y-shaped incisions and a lot more blood.

Usually, he was able to shake off the nightmares as just that. Nightmares. Impossible fears from the stress of his life.

But that all felt so possible today. He was so close to that horrible possibility today and he never ever wanted to feel that while he was awake again.

He hoped one day he wouldn’t dream about it either.

He didn’t want to go back to that lab again.

He didn’t want to be hurt like that again.

He didn’t want to be at their mercy again.

He didn’t want to die.

Not in that lab.

Not again.

#Phic Phight #phic phight 21 #phantomphangphucker #Danny Phantom #angst #I hurt this boy real good #TW: Child Abuse #I tagged this with child abuse because the Fenton's are literally attacking their child. They might not believe that's who he is at the tim #but they still do it.#I decided to take the prompt away from physical violence and just straight up traumatized the kid instead

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short-reviewz · 3 years ago

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Everything Everywhere All At Once Mini-Review

I’ve never seen the Daniels (film-making duo, Daniel Kwan and Daniel Schneinert) previous film, Swiss Army Man so I had no sense of the talent these guys had.

Now I do.

This movie is a masterpiece. The pacing, editing, effects, stunt choreography, the acting - everything is meticulously crafted to work the way they want it to.

There are scenes in this film that, not unlike a multidimensional consciousness hijacking, jump between comedy, drama, suspense, action, and moments of tenderness. Sometimes, in the span of minutes or less. This film is so finely crafted, that I wanted to watch it again immediately afterward, to not only catch all the little details but to immerse myself in the emotional heft of this story once again.

Everything, Everywhere - without spoiling this movie’s numerous delightful surprises - follows Evelyn Wang, the proprietor of a laundromat that she runs with her husband, Waymond (Waymond played by Ke Huy Quan is a scene stealer by the way, and carries many of the film’s most heart-warming and heart-breaking moments). Evelyn treats her daughter poorly, not intentionally so, but as a vestigial carry-over of the treatment her father had placed on her. The day starts simple enough with a meeting with an IRS agent played with gusto by Jaime Lee Curtis, but quickly goes off in wild directions as soon as Waymond requests Evelyn do some odd tasks like switch shoes during the meeting and cross her eyes. Waymond for his part suddenly acts more assertive and claims to be from the ‘alpha’ universe. To say more about the plot however, would be to ruin a lot of excellent gags, and exciting turns.

Michele Yeoh gives a career-best performance here, along with Ke Huy Quan returning after many years away from acting, but truly the entire cast is giving it their all. Stephanie Hsu as their daughter Joy, may not be as flashy of a part as her on-screen parents but gives an equally involved performance for instance.

There’s effects here that rival much larger blockbusters (seriously how did they pull off that fractured universe shot?) and stunt-work that is likewise stellar. There’s a very creative fight involving an...erm, butt plug award.

Do yourself a favour, go see this one - possibly in a theatre if possible, it’s some of the finest and most original film-making you’ll see

10/10

#everything everywhere all at once #movie #review #mini-review #film #comedy #drama #action

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tealquacks · 4 years ago

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Sunlight Over Me (No Matter What I Do)

Originally posted here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27618575

Massive thanks to @dontatkiwi for helping me edit this.

Enjoy!

——————

Dream gave him black armor that glistened in the moonlight. Schlatt, for as strong as he was, swayed under the weight. The heat. Dream’s words sounded funny, as if he was speaking to him through water, form shifting like a verdant mirage. They stood in a grey stone tower, staring down at the world. Schlatt leaned against the balcony. The sun slowly inched up over the horizon, golden beams burning his eyes. Manburg sprawled out below them in all of its glory, the podium still decorated for the festival. Birds chirped and called for their mates, flapping from tree to tree. The air smelled fresh and cold, a gentle breeze carrying the smell of the sea. It would be a beautiful day, an even more beautiful night once the war was over. Schlatt sighed.

They wanted him to fight, didn’t they? Even though he had everything to lose. Wait, he didn’t. He’d already lost everyone, except for Fundy and Manburg. Now that was his everything, all he had to live and die for. How lonely. But still, he would fight. He was big and strong and so was his heart, and everything would be fixed soon. Schlatt reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask. He drank slowly. It did nothing to satiate his thirst. If anything, the burn of the alcohol made him feel thirstier than he’d ever been before. His mouth opened, then he shut it hard enough to make his tongue bleed. Quackity’s name died on his lips. His tongue throbbed from the pain, but it was worth it to keep that name out of his mouth. He didn’t need a weakling around him. He never needed anyone. He could win wars with the smallest gestures, he could topple towers with his whiskey scented breath. The rapid pounding of his heart was a war drum. He took another swig, washing away the iron taste of blood.

Quackity had had the audacity to look at him with tears in his eyes before scampering away. The White House was ugly as shit and deserved to be taken down, so something beautiful could grow in its place. But Quackity just couldn’t understand that. They fought. Schlatt didn’t remember what he said, just that Quackity shot him and left in fear. Quackity was a deer. A deer. His darling little fawn. Deer. With big black eyes and terror coursing through his veins. And Schlatt was a wolf, a predator, an emperor. He was stronger than everyone. Cowards, all of them.

“All of you are fucking cowards.” He muttered. Dream turned his head, giving him a masked glare. Schlatt flipped him off, and laughed. He slumped against the tower wall, metal clanging against stone. No knives would be put into his back. Not tonight. Not by a deer or a man in a box or anyone else.

Dream wouldn’t talk to him. They weren’t friends, they didn’t even trust one another, but the end justified the means. They could at least agree on that. If Dream was his second in command, they’d at least get shit done. But when he and Quackity worked together…

It was good at first. Quackity was easy to sway to his side with a simple talk. They drank wine before going to bed, a glass for each of them, and Schlatt would always pick on Quackity for stirring a bit of honey to negate the bitterness. Things felt less foggy back then, and he could spend a whole day without drink. Then Quackity wanted them to marry. Quackity wanted so much, but couldn’t read the room for shit, couldn’t see what needed to be done for Manburg to prosper. He never knew what was needed. Soon a glass for each of them turned to half a glass for Quackity and three for himself. After Quackity left, three glasses turned into downing close to the entire bottle before collapsing into bed, cold and alone. His room was filled with empty bottles.

An arrow flew at the tower. It impaled itself in the stone. He didn’t even flinch. The people around him erupted into action, knocking arrows and shouting about holding the tower. It needed to be held. He took his helmet off, sweat dripping down his face. He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair. A matted portion right by the base of his left horn stopped his fingers in their tracks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bathed or combed his hair. Surely his horns would look horrid, too, crusted with dirt, and his goat like ears were probably matted, too. He laughed quietly, wiping the sweat off his face.

God it was so fucking hot. The sun was so gold, so glorious, and hung heavily in the sky. It felt like an omen. A swarm of people ran to the tower all wearing the same armor, chest plates and helms that made them look like a flock of black flies. He took a drink from his flask, fire burning his throat. He couldn’t remember what the hell he’d put in it. Alcohol, and some of his other favorite things.

Dream grabbed his arm. It hurt. He shouted something that Schlatt couldn’t hear. But Dream looked away and jumped from the tower. Of course, Schlatt followed, stumbling over the balcony, toppling head first down, down, down, his body landing with a splash in a bit of water. The sun was high in the sky— where had that time gone? He crawled from the murky water, kicking his boots off into the fields. They landed in a half grown patch of wheat, resting in the rich farmland. He felt so hot. The sun, the sun, the glorious sun, pummeled him with heat.

Lucky for him, his grip on his flask didn’t waver when he fell. He guzzled from the flask and staggered to his feet, shoes squelching in the black earth. The people shot at one another. Arrows hailed down from the high balcony of the tower. Some went up, too. Fireworks crackled, thick, sulfuric smoke filling the air. He walked away from the tower.

This wasn’t his fault, it couldn’t be. It was Wilbur’s. Fucking Wilbur, that sanctimonious bastard with all of his grand ideas of victory and freedom. Just because he was pretty and eloquent didn’t mean he was a good leader. Wilbur was a warmonger, an idealist. So the logical thing was to banish him. Yet he still decided to start a war against him, his presidency, the peace he had made. All he wanted was to bring peace, where had the peace gone? He’d done all he could. Gotten rid of all the evil bits, all the useless bits. The weak parts. He’d scorched the land down to the soil, new things would grow.

Fireworks crackled nearby. He unclasped his netherite leggings, letting them fall to the ground. His chestplate went too, both of them striking the earth with a satisfying thud. Someone shot at someone. Someone was screaming. Every firework blast made his head throb, the shouts piercing his head like a knife. He drank again, stumbling forward. The grass looked so green. Manburg looked so beautiful, decorated for the festival. He closed his eyes. Tubbo had so much potential, it’s a shame he couldn’t see past the short term. It’s a real shame.

When he opened them, he was standing before the ocean, sinking into the sand. He stared out at it. The air smelled like salt. Waves pounded the beach, as if the tide was at war with the earth he stood on. But the waves had made the beach, and the earth was nothing but a place for him to mold as he pleased. A high pitched noise came from nowhere. He kicked at the sand. He took a swig from his flask, the alcohol sloshing around until the last drop went down his throat. He dipped it into the raging waves. Water sounded so nice, especially the ocean, glimmering like diamonds in the bright sunlight. He’d been drinking. And yet, he still felt so, so thirsty. With one hand he tilted it up into his mouth, with the other he loosened his tie. The sharp taste of salty water hit his tongue, and he gagged at how cold it was. Still, he swallowed. God. Where was he?

Manburg. His Manburg. With raging oceans and deep forests and supple farmland. He had made it so, so wonderful. Washed the bugs from the nation, but now they returned like a swarm of locusts. His heart felt like it would explode. Everything around him was so blurry and too bright, the heat was driving him crazy. It had to be the sun. So thirsty. The salt tasted bad. Bad things were fine, they made you stronger. And if there was one thing he was, it was strong. He had to be, or they’d eat him alive, and leave his bones to bleach in the sun.

The world around him felt blurry, the world shifting. Like a mirage, almost, ears ringing. He stumbled over something. Darkness fell around him.

When he opened his eyes, there was a wooden floor beneath him, and more bottles. He finally was free of the horrible sun, and surrounded by bottles of drink, a perfect combination. Looking around, he noticed the dirt walls and the hole in the ceiling, and realized that he was in his little hideout, where he would go in the day to hide. Of course, there was alcohol. He poured the salt water onto the floor, picked up a bottle, and sipped from it. Whatever was in the bottle was strong, almost tasting like a protein shake, nice and refreshing. Wonderful. He drank. Maybe after all this blew over, he and Fundy could work out together. And he could work things out with Quackity. It would all be fine. Of course they’d have to spruce Manburg up a little, take down the ragged, unorganized buildings, and build from the ground up. Then he and Quackity would be married in winter and be one another’s warmth. Come springtime, they’d watch Manburg grow. Together.

No, that wouldn’t happen. He was weak. Quackity was weak.

He gracelessly lowered himself to the floor, legs shaking like a baby deers. Once sitting, he pulled out a lighter and a cigar. He flicked his thumb on the lighter once, twice, then took a long draw of the cigar. It did nothing to calm him. Someone poked their head in. Then they ran away. He took another draw of his cigar, hands shaking. Then, he drank again. Draw, drink. Draw, drink. His heart banged against his ribcage. His heart was a war drum. Once all this was done it would all be back to normal. There would be peace, he could rest, and be at peace. He’d go back to being president. And everyone would kneel to him and he’d celebrate be happy even without the alcohol and the drugs.

Happiness. Peace.

A flood of noise rushed into the place he was hidden. He tilted the bottle up, licking around the glass rim before letting it pour down his throat, trying to chase the high. It burned his throat like bile, but had a sickly sweet aftertaste.

Someone touched him.

“Schlatt, what are you doing?” A warm, familiar voice said. Schlatt frowned, squinting at the source of the noise.

“...Wilbur?” He slurred. He looked around, eyes finally focusing on Wilbur. His coat and scarf were tattered, stained with soot and blood. So many people were around him. Dream, Tommy, Purpled, Tubbo, and Wilbur. Everything smelled like gunpowder and iron. They stared at him. Their eyes burned like the sun. He chuckled.

“What are you doing?” Wilbur repeated. Schlatt looked around frantically, a smile blossoming on his face.

“What the hell? Is this a surprise birthday party?”

He knew it wasn’t. As if anyone would care enough to celebrate his life. He took another long drink of whatever was in the bottle, emptying it, and picking another one up from the floor. It burned his throat in a wonderful, familiar way. Wilbur shouted at him, but that damn high pitched noise made his words incomprehensible, making his ears twitch frantically. The drink was good at least. A protein shake, maybe. With creatine, probably, something that would make him big and strong, untouchable, unhurtable, hammer curls, his head spun. He tried to catch his breath, taking deep, even breaths. He counted, trying to calm himself. The voices around him picked up but he couldn’t discern one from another, it was simply a cacophony, a horrifying sight, and he couldn’t breathe.

People around him talked. He finished the bottle, and dropped it, then took another bottle from within his jacket. He tilted his head back, taking a long drink. Up, in the sky, no, standing on the roof—

“Fundy?” He screamed, “Fundy what are you doing here!?!”

“Schlatt, are you fucking drunk,” Fundy deadpanned.

“Fundy are you— “

Fundy dropped down from the roof, right in front of him. His fur was matted in places with blood and dirt. He’d been fighting. The one person he thought he could trust. Staring at him. Big black blank eyes. Like a deer, a deer in fox clothes.

“You BITCH!” Schlatt howled. He lashed out at Fundy with the bottle. Who’d lift with him now? Fucking bitch.

“Schlatt, you fucked up the country, you fucked up everything! You had a dream and I followed it and you brought it downhill.”

Schlatt drank. He didn’t want to hear it. His heart wouldn’t stop violently hammering against his ribs. His arm hurt.

“You ruined it!” Fundy continued, “you ruined everything we had!”

Maybe the shake had something in it. Was he talking? His skin felt wrong. Too hot. The sun crawled through the windows. It crept through the ceiling.

“I thought you were something,” Fundy shouted.

Schlatt glared at him.

“Oh my fucking God. Yeah, I am something, I’m what you’re not, Fundy.”

His cigar had burnt out. He needed another puff to stop his hands from shaking. With quivering hands, he flicked the lighter. No flame came out. He’d need more butane. He flicked the lighter again, and a tiny flame lept out. There we go. He lit his cigar, taking a long, deep pull. The world around him was spinning, like a little carnival ride.

“What am I not?” Fundy barked. Schlatt breathed acrid, grey smoke into his face.

“I’m a man,” Schlatt hissed.

Everyone gasped. Wilbur went up in his face. His mouth moved, but the words that came out didn’t make sense. He slammed the bottle into Wilbur, over and over, until Fundy came back into his eyesight. He broke the bottle against his armor. So many people were shouting. Someone had a sword— he had a sword? Rage took over. He slashed it at Fundy. Chased him. Then stumbled back. If he was speaking, he couldn’t tell. Thought and words had all blended into one. What the hell was in the drink?

He didn’t care. He grabbed a new bottle and chugged.

Something sharp pressed against his forehead. His eyes fluttered, before finally focusing onto whoever was in front of him. Blond hair, blue eyes— Tubbo? No. Tommy. Tommy held a crossbow up to his head. A twinge of fear made his heart lurch in his chest. Was he going to kill him? Don’t, don’t. He stared at the crossbow.

“Victory or death,” Wilbur exclaimed, so proud. He would’ve been a shit President. Schlatt couldn’t help but give a small chuckle. This was his country. His. Nobody else knew his plans to rebuild, and they’d all fail. They weren’t as strong as him.

“You know if I die, this country goes down with me.”

“No it doesn’t, Schlatt,” Tommy said, voice calm and level. Schlatt laughed, and drank. He swallowed down the liquid. Right there in front of him stood Quackity. Sunglasses hid those doe eyes from him. His heart felt like a clenched fist. It hurt.

“I had everybody turn on me,” he said darkly, “in my time of need, everybody left. You left.”

His fist connected with Quackity’s face before he could even think. Quackity stumbled back. More words stumbled from his mouth, but he didn’t know what he was saying anymore. He wanted to collapse. He wanted to not have to be strong anymore. His breath caught in his chest. He couldn’t breathe.

“You made a mistake, you made the biggest mistake by not taking me—“

“You’re pathetic, Schlatt!” Fundy crowed.

“This is your fault and your fault only,” someone else said. They weren’t wrong. He’d fucked up over and over.

Schlatt just mumbled and cried out whatever he thought. His body was separated from his mind. He didn’t know what he was saying. Bad, bad, everything was bad and doomed, oh god.

Tommy pressed the crossbow against his chest. He coughed. The breath left his body. Oh god they were going to kill him. Under the bright sun. The sun. People were talking. Too many people were talking, voices mingling with the ringing in his ears, a horrifying symphony. He wheezed. Something was burning. Toast? Wilbur looked at him. Said something. He drank. That had to help. Nothing could help. Something was happening.

He didn’t feel good. One last puff. Had to help. Had to get him stronger. Didn’t feel good. His heartbeat crescendoed. So many people were looking at him but they wouldn’t help, they wouldn’t help, were they just going to watch? It hurt, it hurt so bad, why wouldn’t they help him?

The pain in his chest made him crumble. His head hit the hard floor. A weak gasp escaped him, and his empty eyes gazed up through the hole in the ceiling.

The sun stared down at his body.

#mcyt #dream smp #jschlatt #Wilbur Soot #myct fanfic #tw death #Fundy #itsfundy #quackity #tw drugs #dreamwastaken

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obscureoperations · 4 years ago

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So, Im just gonna dump this here before I have to head out. Mind you I didnt edit any of this... let me liveee. It probably needs a part two b/c I didnt really get to the exact point. "Strapping Martin Prompt" *yikes face* Nsfw ahead

For the most part it was all just a waiting game, you were perfectly content with biding your time. It had been almost a week since you caught him red handed, sitting indian style in the corner of your room. Your box of “documents” laid open in front of him, the various contents tossed about. An untouched magazine with some greased up cowboy on the cover-- a pair of handcuffs, an unopened bottle of lube. He held the piece up in front of his face, inspecting it as it continued to furiously vibrate between his fingers. A small caught from the doorway alerts him of your presence, he nearly drops the toy, before quickly tossing it back into the box, he begins scrambling to retrieve the rest of your items. “What’s ah… whats goin on here?” You ask, unable to hide your smirk. At times he truly was adorable.

“Sorry.. I.. I was just looking for your walkie talkies..I--”

There in the same place they always are, love.” You offer, gesturing over to your dresser.

He wanted to die, truly he wanted to die. He didn’t always go through your things. No, that would be totally invasive. He just wanted to know what was in that shiny black box.

You were going to hate him. Why couldn’t he just mind his business? He knew this all was too good to be true. He failed to notice that you came to sit beside him, helping to collect your things.

“ Martin, you know I don’t care right… I don’t really have any secrets, what's mine is yours..” You shrug.

He could practically feel the relief wash over him, but still you had to understand.

“Y/n.. I really didn’t mean to pry… I just saw the box a-and--”

“Now you think I’m a total perv…”

His eyes widen, he lets out something between a cough and a laugh, if anything he was utterly fascinated. “Did you actually use these things… before him?”

“No.”

“Most of em have been gag gifts, stuff from birthdays and the like. To be honest, you didn’t really use any of that stuff. You just kept it all as a laugh.“My friends from college were....they were assholes, I’ll leave it at that.” You shrugged

He was watching you with a curious expression before glancing back over to the open box. The black vibrating device rested next to what looked to be a harness, a realistic flesh colored device right next to it. What on earth

“ Yeah, they decided it would become a thing after a drunken game of truth or dare.”

“What happened?” He asked as he casually reached for the harness, inspecting the various buckles.

“Ohh god..” you sigh, looking up towards the ceiling “Look, I'm not going to do into details, they asked what's the wildest things you’ve done in the bedroom. Stuff was said-- and ever since they started calling me “rodeo” .

His eyebrows nearly shot up to his forehead, unable to hide his amused smirk. “Rodeo?” What was the best they could come up with.. He still don't completely understand. He figured that at least explained the magazine.

You glance over noting his amused expression. ‘’ Hey, laugh all you want pal, but I’ve never gotten any complaints…” You shrug closing the box, swiftly sliding it under your bed.

“I’m sorry… I’m still just sort of confused… did-- did you have a thing for cowboys or?”

Your hands shoot up to cover your mouth, stifling a cackle. “Something about the innocence in his tone, you should just agree and leave it at that. But still you wondered---it was something that you never dreamed of bringing up to Martin. Rather you had, but had no idea where to even begin. He was honestly perfect for you, so innocent. You had no idea how he would react.

“No.. Martin, you laughed. It’s nothing, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Tell me.”

“Drop it…”

You knew you shouldn’t have said it, you were already scrambling across the bed. In an instant one leg locks around your waist as his fingers scramble over your ribs. “That little shit!”

“M-martinn-- Sto--pp” You wheeze.

“Tell me y/n!” he laughs all the while his fingers ghost over your lower stomach, You could feel your knee involuntarily reach up but for the most part you were still pinned to the bed. All it took was a few more seconds and he relents after you finally say okay…

“God…” You sigh, as you straighten your shirt, absentmindedly wiping at your eyes. “Fine, but don’t act like I didn’t warn you…

The two of you sat awkwardly at the edge of the bed, your hands fiddled with a stray yarn on the bed spread. “ Oh…” was his simple response. Really, after all the badgering all he could give you was “Oh..”

Well it was better than you should have expected, he was always so shy, so easily flustered, you were surprised he hadn't already mumbled some sort of excuse to leave.

“How many times?” He asks quietly.

“I don’t know really… we were already together. I dont keep track.”

“Was there anyone before him?”

“Well yeah, I had a couple boyfriends back in highschool…”

His eyes widened a bit…”In highschool?!”

You could feel yourself turning bright red. He was literally going to think you were some kind of fiend. “Look, it's not like that--”

He nods his head. He really didn’t know what to say. He could already feel that he messed up. He wasn’t truly shocked or upset, just surprised.. You had never bought anything like that up to him. It seemed to be a recurring thing in your relationships-- did his and yours not count?

You were rambling now, but what you were actually saying he wasn’t sure. He had so many questions. Various thoughts and images swirled through his mind. It all shouldn't be a total surprise. It wasn’t like you hadn't shown interest in a certain part of his anatomy, that he really couldn’t understand your fascination for. It didn’t happen all the time, just once in a while, in the midst of a blow job. It was always good-- too good. He couldn’t fathom how someone could be that good with their mouth. He wanted more, he needed to prolong it, but with every stroke of your tongue he was careening towards the edge. He would beg you to slow down, and you’d reluctantly oblige, placing lingering kisses along his inner thighs. Tongue delving lower, in gentle circles… He blushed at the memory.

He finds himself inching closer, you were still rambling, much like you always did when you were nervous. Why were you nervous? You could tell him anything. Tentatively he raises a hand to your face, lightly cupping your chin. You seemed almost startled for a moment, he leans in kissing you sweetly. He could feel you visibly relax. “It’s almost seven, I need to be getting back”

Over the next few days you could feel a shift in his demeanor, he was always affectionate but there was something else. He would move to rest his head on your shoulder or on your lap when you sat together on the couch. He followed you around like a lost puppy, when you could ask him what was up, he’d simply shrug. He would watch as you busied yourself at the sink, soon enough he would stand behind you holding you close. Lingering kisses along the column of your neck as his hands flitter beneath your shirt. Just ask me.

He thought about it relentlessly, in his mind he was completely yours. He wanted to be yours completely, but you had still failed to ask. He always liked when you took control even he was the one pleasing you. The way your fingers would enwrine in his hair, tugging, causing something inside to ignite. The way your hands would always find his neck when you rode him, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. How would you want him-- face to face? Or on all fours with your fingers digging into his hips. These were the questions that he needed answers to, he had to find out. It was important.

It was about four thirty the following saturday when he showed up at your door. You seemed almost surprised to see him. “ Martin! I didn’t think you were coming by until after dinner.” “He let me off early… do you mind?” “No, of course not…” You offer letting him in, as you take in his appearance. “Well you look nice… were you wanting to go out?” “No, not really.” He was dressed in all black, hair perfectly combed. His sweater clung to his lithe form almost too perfectly. He looked… good. The two of you chatted idly as you sat on the couch in front of the tv. He watched as your nimble fingers flipped through the pages of the tv guide before you carelessly toss it to the side. “God for a saturday, the selection is shit.” “That’s fine.” He shrugs inching closer. “I really don't feel like watching anything.” You regard him with a curious expression as he almost cautiously eases in. Fingers lightly cupping your chin before kissing you just briefly. You couldn’t get over his scent, something almost citrusy along with fresh cut grass. You could feel his hair brush against his cheek as his lips move to your neck. Oh he was good. Seconds pass and you find yourself pulling him close as his teeth scrape over your racing pulse. Peppering kisses along your hairline, forehead and eyelids before his lips finally meet yours. The barely audible moan that escapes his throat had your hands reaching for the him of his shirt. Teeth digging into his bottom lip caused him to moan that much louder. Fuck…

He moves to rest on top of you as his hands flitter beneath your shirt, you can feel him already hard pressing against your thigh, you take the opportunity to shift it against him. In an instant his lips are on yours again, the kiss was sloppy, all teeth over tongue. Needy whimpers dying in his throat,you could feel him grow impossibly heated as he ruts himself against your thigh. You begin to smooth your fingers in his hair, grasping gently just at the nape of his neck, tugging, causing him to gasp. You crain his head up to meet his gaze. His cheeks were tinted bright pink, eyes hooded, he looked like he was in a daze. His lips form into a slight pout as his hands dig into the flesh of your hip. “What’s gotten into you?” you whisper, gently kissing the tip of his nose. His lips curl into an almost impish grin. “Nothing yet…” Your eyebrows shoot up towards your hairline. He was already kicking himself, the line was something from a bad porno. If anything he could get you to laugh, he was already laughing at the absurdity of the words himself. He places a lingering kiss at the curve of your jaw, before resting his head against your chest. Out of instinct, your hands continue to weave through his hair. “What do you need? Huh?” This was it, he could already tell by your tone that you knew he needed you to take control. He sighs nuzzling that much closer. “Just ask me…”

He felt like he was on fire, this indiscernible itch touched the deepest recesses of his bones. He needed to get closer, but you were only testing the waters-- fingers curling inside of him with ease. A quiet moan falls from his lips as you bite down against his shoulder, fingers spreading apart, in a scissoring motion. His right leg curls around your own, drawing you close as he shivers against you. He can feel the piece pressing against his stomach, larger than he had actually imagined it being. It wasn't like you hadn’t throurally prepped him, with both your fingers and your mouth. If anything the use of only two fingers now left him feeling empty-- but there was still the flicker of panic. It only intensified when you climbed off of him, the lack of warmth caused him to shiver. He watched as you reached for the bottle of lube applying a liberal amount to the palm of your hand. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you stroking your hand over the fairly realistic shaped piece. The sight alone turned him on in ways that he would never actually admit. Heat rises to his face as you regard him with an almost predatory gaze. It makes him remember his completely exposed state, legs lewdly spayed in front of you. Another drop of precum leaks back onto his stomach,his fingers bunch absentmindedly at the sheets. Why were you looking at him like that..”Y/n” he calls, worrying at his bottom lip. “What is it baby?” you ask sweetly, shifting between his legs. You place a hand on his knee urging him to prop it up. The gentleness of the action caused his heart to ache. You began leisurely smoothing your hands over his thighs, mesmerised at how open and beautiful he looked before you. Mouth sized bruises all along his collar bone venturing down across his chest. You can see the faint muscles of his abdomen contract. “P--please touch me..” His voice was no more than a whisper, you oblige, running your hands across his chest. Fingernails scrape over a hardened nipple, teasing it to a peak causing him to gasp. “I am...”

“N-no not like that.. I need.. ahh--” His moan, a response to you repeating the same action on the other, pinching down hard enough to bruise. You move your hand to lightly cup his jaw, noting how he leans his cheek against your hand “so pretty..”You whisper, moreso to yourself. At this point you had no idea what you did to deserve him. Especially when he was looking up at you with those eyes. You didn’t really want to wait any longer you move to position yourself between his legs. “Here, put your leg up... “ you whisper as you move to press his leg against his chest, he blushes profusely at the familiar position. The embarrassment was short lived as you push forward slightly. “Ohh.. W-wait..” He can feel the blunt head of the phallus pushing lightly at his well prepped entrance… You still instantly… “You okay?” He sits forward on his elbow, moving some of the hair out of his eyes. He looked so anxious in that moment. “Martin… we don't have to do this… or we can ease into it more if you’re not ready.” “No.. It’s okay..just--” You lean in tracing your lips over his forehead, moving them to the tip of his nose. “What is it?” You ask as you begin peppering kisses along his jaw, he was already starting to lean into your touch. He can feel himself drawing you close, pressing himself against the silicone piece. “Slow...okay?” he asks quietly. “Promise..”

#Im not tagging this lmao

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shesquiinnsane-ar · 5 years ago

Text

UPDATED BIOS;

As a precursor to this I just thought to add that both Arkham Origins and A Matter of Family have also been edited and updated. Whilst writing new bios I'm also working on editing older bios as some are probably a couple years old and full of typos I never checked. So that's happening too. All new bios will have my new icon form. I'll try and posted whenever I so update bios though so people know. And now, onto the new bio!

BATMAN NINJA;

This verse will typically be used for any anime/manga characters that Harley may interact with as well as those who simply just wish to explore it. Please note that Batman Ninja is a mash of ideas from the Japan studios. There are lots of anime tropes and plot points that need to be simply taken for granted.

Gorilla Grodd used a Quake Engine in Arkham Asylum to send everyone back to Feudal Japan, causing a small distraction that landed Batman in that world two years later.. Two years in the making and Gotham’s villains were taking over as Feudal Lords; Two-Face, Penguin, Poison Ivy, Deathstroke, and the Joker with Harley alongside, where all the Lord’s of their state. The Joker and Harley were considered to be the closest to uniting the kingdom to be the one true King of Japan, the Joker was known to be labeling himself as the Demon King.

The pair first bump into Batman, using Harley disguised as the Joker to tease him as they realize he is now in Feudal Japan. This distraction allowed Joker to engage Batman in a fight, asking Batman to call him Lord Joker as he was believed to be the most powerful man in Japan. After changing into her outfit she met up with the Joker and the Batman after he finished throwing razor-edged fans. To keep the Joker occupied, she poured him a drink so they could instead watch Batman against seven of the Joker’s samurai warriors. As Batman and the warriors fought, Harley asked if they should follow, to which the Joker just sighed with his drink, asking her to simply enjoy the moonlight as they had all the time in the world.

Batman subsequently joined forces with Catwoman as he learned that the secret to going home was in Grodd’s time machine, currently owned by the Joker in his temple. He then learned Catwoman was lucky enough to find Alfred, who was in the Batmobile, and had been maintaining it as best he could for the occasion when Batman was to return. The loud motor roared down the street straight to the temple which Harley overheard, rushing to the Joker to inform him. Pushing open the doors of the temple she shouted at the top of her lungs that Batman was coming. She dropped her knees in front of Joker as she told Joker that Batman was coming in the Batmobile. Trying to demonstrate her point, using a puppet show she told Joker that the Batmobile had passed their gunmen and the canons that were in place to try and hold him back. Then Batman was always so clever with his technology, but Joker believed he was nothing without the Batmobile. Joker demanded Harley activated ‘Arkham Castle’. At first, she protested, after all the castle wasn’t even finished yet, but it had been made for Batman so there wasn’t any time like now to use it. She agreed, and after licking her lips, she clapped with a giggle. Behind the doors that had opened to her command was a piece of the Quake Engine that had been lost to Gorilla Grodd.

With the castle activated, the temple started to rise out of the ground, as Batman was seen approaching the building. It seemed to transform into a mechanically charged robot in the form of the temple. Batman labeled it a form of madness as the left arm of the mech readied a set of giant throwing stars. Each one was thrown at the road in an attempt to stop Batman from reaching them. The three throwing stars narrowly missed the Batmobile as Batman blew up the gate with a rocket launcher extension to the Batmobile. He was storming the gates and the mech tried to squish Batman in the Batmobile as it plucked it from the ground. The Batman escaped, dropping from the wreckage with part of the car that converted into the Batjet. To Joker though, it was a persistent yet predictable move. With Batman locked on the top floor of Arkham Castle, he was trapped by two prongs, the wings severed on the Batjet, leaving Batman in mid-air. That wasn’t the only trick Batman could pull, however, as dropping the wings converted the Batjet into a Batcycle, a motorbike he used to drive along the arm of the fortress straight into the top room.

Harley had fled from the floor to drop a trap on Batman. As the right hand of the fortress came crashing down to the ground Batman had to choose; save a woman and child down below, or finally get the Joker. Batman used the cycle to try and crash to the ground ahead of the hand and managed to fight off Bane to save the poor woman. The woman, however, was no more than Harley Quinn and her mallet. With Batman narrowly escaping being crushed to death she had time to perfectly line up her shot before her mallet hit in straight in the face and sent him flying across the floor. Using a giant slide to get out from the tower, the Joker joined Harley on the ground as they were both laughing. Harley noted that it was typical Bats, as he always fell for the same tricks. Joker continued to taunt Batman, as Harley and a few of his armed guards surrounded the Batman. Joker could only wonder what Batman had in store for a second act as he’d destroyed all of his toys now and there were no friends here to save him. A short and worried shout from Harley seemed to change the tides, however, as she pointed behind the Joker and tried to get his attention. Behind him, a huge colony of Bats seemed to fly toward them. During the flurry, Harley tried her best to swat them away with her mallet but it didn’t seem to do anything. The bats aided the arrival of what Harley could only describe as Ninja Batmen. As quickly as they appeared, they disappeared, taking the Batman with them, and leaving Harley and Joker confused.

On a handmade ship, made in the vision of the Joker, Harley and Joker met with Gorilla Grodd. They stood within the bird’s nest to see as far as they could in case anyone should sneak upon them. Joker told Grodd that he wouldn’t kill him if he handed over the Batman and wanted to see where he was. He quickly made himself known as floatation devices were set up in the water which from the Joker’s viewpoint looked like people. Batman told him he was surrounded but this wasn’t going to over that quickly. With a laugh, Joker admitted that he was surrounded as his samurai warriors appeared firing at sticks of bamboo in the water. Harley came tumbling, laughing as she was firing her gun at whatever she could, hoping to hit a few people on the way down. Then she opted to throw a bomb into the waters, which she knew would cause more damage. Batman seemed to shout out ‘no’ but as Harley hit the deck she laughed, what else was he expecting? They knew he’d have men hiding in the water. As she joined Joker, who opened fire on Batman, Batman told them that maybe he would another time, but right now he had a trick up his sleeve. The tiny boat that Batman and Grodd had arrived on rose up to expose a huge underground deck. Despite looking confused at first, the pair still laughed and Joker claimed they were still doomed, opening firing on them again.

The boat nudged forward, rocking Harley and Joker off balance as the hull of Batman’s ship opened as the Batman Ninja Clan and members of the Batman Family started to attack. Harley was confused, as they’d already killed them all, but the people in the waters were simple decoys to distract them from this new attack. As Harley put the pieces together Catwoman reached out to attack her and the pair started to fight. When swinging her mallet failed to land a hit, Harley took out her gun trying to aim for the Cat, who seemingly didn’t want to be put down. As she continued to fire, Harley was recklessly splintering the boat’s woodwork. She laughed until her bullets ran out which was when Catwoman proceeded to fight back, backflipping over Harley to kick her across her face.

Soon enough the fight was over, and Gorilla Grodd siding with Batman in the hopes of gaining an advantage. Harley and Joker were subsequently tied together around the mast of one of their sails. Batman was happy to disappoint Joker by stooping ‘that low’ and siding with Grodd. But if Grodd had turned on the Joker, then Grodd would also turn against Batman. Joker didn’t have a chance to say anymore as he had been gagged alongside Harley. In Feudal Japan, trust meant nothing as Grodd used his mind control in an attempt to control everyone on board the ship. Or at least he tried to as the Bat Clan had mastered their bodies and their minds and could not be under the influence of Grodd’s mind control. Now everyone had to prepare to be annihilated by Two-Face as bombs destroyed the Joker’s ship. With the boat in flames, they had the chance to escape from their chains and climb back up to the bird’s nest with a barrel containing explosives. The pair laughed, as Joker told Batman he’d see him in hell before Harley lit the fuse and sent the explosive to the deck. After all only Joker could kill the Batman, he couldn’t forgive himself if anyone else had done it. The explosion destroyed the boat and bats left the flaming embers. Supposedly ending the battle.

There were no signs of Joker or Harley after the explosion. Some believed them to be dead or simply gone. In the fields away from the villages a couple had been found. The male donned green hair, the female, blonde. They had seemingly spent years on a field that didn’t seem to grow any crops. A male in a red helmet, Red Hood, was taken for a monk who was traveling through the region and he asked the couple for a glass of water. The green-haired man happily agreed as the blonde woman walked past him to sort out this water. She commented that the traveler must be exhausted as it was a rather hot day after all. As she leaned over the pot to fill his bowl with water the traveler grabbed the blonde, causing her to cry out, telling her to ‘break it’. Helpless, her man told him to stop, as he genuinely had no idea what was going on and why someone would go out of their way to attack his wife. He was threatening for the blonde to show her true face, or else he’d break her arm.

This traveling monk knew the Joker was alive when everyone else had said he was dead but there was a confusion to his face no one could fake. He questioned why the man was insistent on calling him Joker. Kicking the blonde to the floor Red Hood grew more irritated. The green-haired man ran over to his darling feeling threatened and scared. He even questioned the male’s sanity, as none of the situations made any sense. Supposedly that insinuated the man in the red helmet was stupid, as he was expected to believe that the Joker had taken up farming. Harley covered her eyes whimpering as the pair received a beating from the visiting male. They didn’t understand, their confusion was genuine. As he was assaulted the male continued to deny the allegations, and he dropped to his knees as a bamboo barrel was pointed at his head. Gunfire went off but just scraped past the male’s head as they were rescued by a man in a Bat costume. Supposedly they were both here for the same reason, as reports of foreign farmers in the area matched the descriptions of Harley and the Joker had been found but the couple genuinely didn’t remember anything of their past. They had come to Japan to live a peaceful life and had spent time plowing the fields.

As the danger seemed to pass the blonde woman had gotten straight back to work when a miracle appeared before her eyes. It seemed like the pair had waited forever for this moment. She shouted for her honey to come and join her, her voice filled with excitement as there was finally a sprout in their fields. They laughed and embraced as finally, they had gotten somewhere, the blonde calling the green male her puddin’ as they toppled to the floor. Batman had concluded that the couple had at one point been Joker and Harley Quinn but had lost their memories to a point where they were no longer a threat. He promised to keep an eye on them and to take them back when the Quake Engine was fully operational but for now, they were harmless and they just had to let the couple be. Things were not quite so simple, however, as the travelers left the couple laughing their euphoria. The sprout that had finally grown was blowing pollen across the field, and over the couple kneeling next to it. This pollen had been created as a trigger to the couple’s memories. The seemingly harmless duo would now once again become the Joker and Harley Quinn as their memories were restored.

A month later, the Joker and Harley Quinn were ready to make their come back. The Feudal Lords; Two-Face, Penguin, Poison Ivy, and Deathstroke were all manipulated by Gorilla Grodd to develop a mechanical structure each which was far beyond the technologies of Japan at the time. Grodd had been setting up the battlefield to take over and become the one Lord of Japan. As the mechs joined together to become one, the party-crashers made their entrance. No one had known that Joker and Harley had regained their status and now they were ready to make a comeback. Throwing a laughing bomb into the hub of Grodd’s machine, a form of knock out gas was sprayed around the room affecting Grodd and Catwoman who was in the hold at the time. Other identical bombs seemed to explode through the mech as floating above in a hot air balloon donning the Joker’s smile was Harley Quinn and the Joker laughing hysterically and spinning around as they declared themselves back! It was out with the old and in with the new as more bombs were dropped on the battlefield as Harley made sure they knew that there were no exchanges or returns. The color bombs covered the mech as Batgliders identified the couple. Batman couldn’t believe it to be true but Joker greeted him as there was no way you could keep a crazy man down.

The hot balloon crashed through the roof of Grodd’s castle, the same one that had previously been owned by Joker and Harley themselves. he didn’t want to be too late to the party but it seemed he had come at exactly the right time. As Catwoman glared Joker down, she was pushed to the floor as Harley stood on her, whilst wearing a jester hat that mimicked her modern-day attire. She grinned and waved at the pretty kitty. Grodd had taken them by surprise back at the lake in which their ship sank but now it was time for payback. The flower that had triggered their memories, wasn’t too potent yet but Harley admitted that they were thinking of increasing the dosage. The plant had been one Harley had previously taken from Ivy who had the best plants. As the plant seemingly paralyzed Grodd, Harley kicked Catwoman over to join Grodd on the floor before wielding her mallet and taking her place at the Joker’s side with a giggle. Now it was a turn of events Joker intended to take over Grodd’s plan and ejected Grodd and Catwoman from the castle as they were pushed down the slide and sent falling downwards. They were caught by the Bat Clan and carried carefully to the ground as Joker took the central seat and Grodd’s tools to play a few mind games using the mech he had developed.

Activating the full transition, the mechs assembled again. This time, however, the transition seemed more fluid as each of the villains controlled a part of the mech, with Joker’s hot air balloon forming the structure's head. Now they were all serving Lord Joker to take over, and the contraption was better than anything the Joker himself could have created. Chaos ensued as the Bat Clan struggled to withstand the force of the mech and the power it had. He had attacked Gorilla Grodd, injuring him badly. Despite being saved from death, however, there was no telling of his injuries. In return for the said Grodd gave Batman his commanding flute which summoned many monkeys to help the Bat Clan defeat the fortress the Joker was in control of. The monkeys formed a giant structure, a samurai monkey to take down the mechs. In one punch the mech was sent to his needs, which was unexpected but the structure did pick itself back up.

As the Joker controlled the head of the structure, Harley was left to control the main body. Joker suggested cutting down on the monkey business by greeting the guests with a warm kiss. Pushing down on one of her levers, activated a huge central flame thrower but the monkeys seemingly withstood the heat as only their armor was damaged. The flurry of bats at the Bat Clan’s disposal doused the flames as the bats now enclosed the monkey samurai to take on the form of a giant Batman. Harley pushed down on the lever again, at the command of the Joker, as he told the Batman figure to feast on the fire of hell. The flames had no effect on Batman and with a single punch pushed straight through into the head, destroying the Joker's hub and freezing the machine. Batman opted to take Joker alone as each hero took on their villain to destroy the mech section by section. For Harley, this meant facing Catwoman who had in her opinion, chosen the wrong side to play with. In Catwoman’s mind, Harley needed a good ass-kicking after their previous encounter.

As Harley intended to go and help Joker, Catwoman almost whipped her mallet straight out of her hands but Harley bashed it out of the way just in time with a little giggle. Catwoman declared it was time for some girl on girl action as the two began to fight. Harley laughed her way through the hits even jumping with intentions of smashing the cat to the floor. As she looked, Catwoman had disappeared but she smirked, throwing her mallet to her left and striking the feline. Trapping her in her grip, using the mallet to help, Harley told the pretty kitty to take her medicine and say goodnight, before licking the woman’s cheek.

It all seemed to be going well but the monkey army had split, tackling the structure individually to slowly tear it apart piece by piece. As Harley held her grip on Catwoman a shudder throughout the building had caused her to slip, and Catwoman freed herself taking advantage by kicking the jester squarely in the face as she crashed into the wall. Resting her back against the wall Harley tried to catch her breath as she’d been winded by the motions as Catwoman tightly gripped her costume, pulling Harley up by her collar. Catwoman told Harley to keep her tongue to herself as she threw the Jester into the main system causing it to explode and completely crash which was where the Jester remained. Out cold, and hopefully not burnt.

After the fight, the Quake Engine was restored, presumably returning all of the Gotham residents to the present day.

#V; BATMAN NINJA.{mechs and monkeys; just to rule japan}#BIO RELEASE!!!

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bangtan-gal · 6 years ago

Note

I saw you wanted requests so here I am. Mmh I don't really know if you have rules of things you write or not but can I ask for a Jimin smut? Maybe you're like roommates or something and he's stressed so y/n ends up helping him relieve stress(he kinda gets rough and selfish just bc he needs to relieve the stress)

final manuscript (m)

lol so, here we are.

Let me help you with that.”

His eyes widened when you said that, bent over in front of him, a hand resting on his knee, and your tongue slowly running over your lip. Jimin blushed, shifting in his seat, trying to ignore the hard-on that started to grow from those words. You obviously weren’t talking in that manner, but the way you stared at him… shit.

Earlier that week…

“Ugh, I can’t fucking believe this!” Jimin shouted.

You jumped, glancing over your shoulder as your roommate stormed into the apartment. Frustration was evident on his face as he run a hand through his hair, biting his lip. The boy threw his bag on the ground and then flopped onto the couch beside you. He buried his face against your leg, a whine escaping him.

“What happened this time?” You asked tentatively, running a hand through his hair. He sighed, shifting so he could meet your gaze.

“He claimed that it wasn’t good enough! That was the third final manuscript I gave him, what else could he want? It seems good enough to me—fuck, it’s perfect!” He huffs and then groans, covering his eyes.

Jimin was a… not-so-successful author. It’d taken him months to find an agent that would represent him and now the agent was stressing him out. Jimin’s book was good, you yourself couldn’t understand why the agent kept rejecting it and demanding more from the boy. What more could he want?

“Did he give you any reason?” You murmured, watching as he sat up and shook his head. He sighed again, a small smile on his face when he turned to face you.

“Well, I better get back to working on it, he wants to see me Thursday,” he muttered and then paused, “thanks for putting up with me, Y/N.”

` You nodded and went back to watching TV as the boy retreated to his room. You spent the rest of the afternoon like that, curled up on the couch, watching Friends and munching aimlessly on snacks. You’d occasional hear movement from Jimin’s room or a shout of annoyance and then something would crash to the floor and a string of curses would follow. You were concerned—it seemed that this book took up most of his time. His friends had asked you several times if he was really okay, turns out he hadn’t hung out with them at all it the past three weeks.

Dinner approached and you sighed, sitting up. You stretched yourself out and then moved to go make it. Normally you would just order take-out or go out to eat, but you knew Jimin enjoyed your cooking—he repeatedly claimed that was the main reason he moved in with you. You kept it simple, making a potato and egg noodle bowl.

Any other day you would’ve brought the dinner to his room, but you needed to drag him out of his room for at least thirty minutes and give him time to think about something else. Sometimes Jimin got so caught up on something he forgot about self-care, leaving you with a sobbing, starved, stressed, and sleepy mess. You walked to his room, knocking loudly on the door before storming in. He sat on his bed, his laptop in front of him and papers surrounding him. You couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose at the mess.

“Dinner’s ready, get your ass out here,” you huff, standing at the door until the boy finally got up. The two of you sat down and started eating. The boy was shoveling down the food, obviously trying to get back to his work as soon as possible. Although he only had two days before his next meeting, you weren’t going to let him escape that easily.

“Jimin,” you said and when he didn’t reply, you loudly repeated yourself. He looked up, light brown eyes searching yours nervously. “Is it good?” He immediately nodded, shoving another mouthful of noodles into his mouth. You watched as he finished his food, quickly getting up to put the bowl in the sink before disappearing back into his room. You frowned, glancing down at your full bowl before pushing it away. You weren’t hungry anymore.

The rest of the night continued in silence. You retired to your room as well, finishing up homework for college and watching YouTube. Several times your phone would ring, one of Jimin’s friends asking if he was okay. You debated telling him that he wasn’t, but thought better of it.

The next day passed without the two of you seeing each other. You come home from a study session with Jungkook to see Jimin passed out on the couch, his work spread out around him. You sighed, pulling a blanket over him but ended up startling the boy instead.

He shot up, papers flying around and knocking over the empty coffee cup beside him. You sighed, patting his head and sitting down beside him. Jungkook had asked repeatedly if his hyung was okay and you’d told him that he was okay, just stressed. The boy smiled up at you, glancing around at his work with a sigh.

“I have to get back to editing,” he mumbled and you huffed. You leaned forward, placing a hand on his knee and forcing him to meet your gaze. You massaged his leg, not caring that it was probably over stepping boundaries.

“Let me help you with that?”

He blinks, cheeks turning pink and confusion running over his face. You lick your lips, something else starting to boil in your stomach from the way his eyes darkened. His gaze focused in on your lips for a split second before they quickly reached your eyes and then he looked away. You scooted forward, your knees brushing and your hand scooting farther up his leg. Jimin’s eyes widen and he searched your stare, trying to find the reason for your sudden actions.

You lean forward, reaching for the papers behind him to start editing, but Jimin stops you. He grips your forearms, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips before his eyes drop back down to your lips. You squirm for a moment before leaning even farther forward until you’re practically sitting on top of him. You have no idea what’s come over you, but you close your eyes and ignore the part of you that tells you this is a bad idea.

Your lips meet, softly pressing against each other. It was hesitant at first, neither one of you sure what the other wanted. Jimin’s hand slid up to your hair, the other wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you forward. You gasp when you fall into his lap, your hand accidentally landing on his crotch. You unconsciously squeeze, a thrill running through you when you feel him grow underneath you.

He pulls back with a soft moan, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. You purse your lips and then slowly test the button of his jeans. His eyes pop open, watching you. You grin, waiting to see if he’ll stop you as you continue to unbutton his pants and pull down his zipper. He doesn’t though, instead he watches, excitement flashing through his dark eyes.

It takes a little work, but the two of you work together to wiggle him out of his pants. A blush spreads over your cheeks when you see the obvious bulge in his briefs. He leans back, resting on his elbows as he waits to see what you’ll do next. You work at your lip and then slowly meet his gaze.

“Need stress relief?” You asked teasingly, watching the embarrassed smile spread over his face and the cute shrug that followed.

You pulled down his briefs and slowly took a soft grip on his cock. His breath hitched at the small touch and you didn’t look up as you leaned down and kitten licked the tip. His hips rolled beneath you and you ran your tongue along the underside before taking his head in. You sank down as far as you could go and wrapped your hand around the rest. You hollowed out your cheeks and bobbed up and down, the soft groans escaping him sending pleasure through your body.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed, his hand tangling in your hair. You speed up when he lets out a loud moan, his back arching. The boy unconsciously thrusts into your mouth and you choke around him, eyes watering as he forces you to deepthroat him.

“Shit, sorry. I-I couldn’t help myself,” he mumbles as you come up for air. You blush, wiping the saliva off your mouth. You teasingly lean down again, pressing soft kisses to the tip and carefully licking at it. You open your mouth around the tip again only to pull off with a pop. “No need to be a tease about it.”

When you ignore him and continue to keep your ministrations light, something similar to a growl comes from him. It sends heat straight to your core and this time when you swallow his tip, he thrusts into your mouth again. You gag, trying to pull off, but he digs his hands into your hair and thrusts again. Tears pull at the corner of your eyes and you struggle for air. He moans once more before pulling you off.

“Clothes off,” he demands, licking his lips. You nod, quickly shedding your shirt and your pants, excitement racing through your body. You pull off your bra and toss away your panties. He grins, admiring you for a moment, before he pulls you down. His lips meet yours again and he roughly rakes his nails up and down the sides of your body.

Jimin flips the two of you around so you’re facing the couch and his front if pressed to your back. He presses a kiss to your ear, his fingers moving along your stomach and in between your legs to your slit. He runs his fingers over your pussy, chuckling when he feels how wet you are.

“Thanks for this Y/N,” he murmurs in your ear and then enters you in one swift thrust. You gasp, resting your head against the back of the couch. He reaches up, rolling your nipple between his fingers and his thrusts speed up immediately. He wastes no time, a loud groan slipping from his lips as his hips loudly crash into your ass. He pounds into you hard and you let out a squeal, shutting your eyes as a perfect mix of pleasure and pain rushes through you.

“Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit,” you hiss over and over. Jimin’s thrusts only speed up and you can feel him smirk against your neck as he continues to press kisses against the soft skin there. He groans when you arch your back, allowing him to slid in even deeper. His fingers dig into your thighs as he tries to get a better grip.

“Ah yes, fuck Y/N!” He shouts, ramming into you even harder. His fingers find your clit and he quickly rubs and pulls at it. You whimper, the wet sounds and slapping of skin filling the apartment. He pulls on your hair and you let your head snap back, a blissful gasp escaping you as he nips at the skin of your shoulder.

It comes to fast you don’t even realize that you’re about to cum until it hits you. You press back against Jimin, your pussy tightening deliciously around his cock while he drags your through your orgasm. Several thrusts later, he lets out something close to a scream and releases inside you. The two of you slump down against the couch, still connected. A blush is on your face and a lazy grin on his.

“God, you could’ve helped me with my stress much earlier,” he chuckles.

#bts #kpop #bangtan boys #bangtan #bts smut #bangtan smut #jimin smut #jimin x reader smut #park jimin x reader smut #jimin x reader #park jimin smut #park jimin x reader #bts x reader #thea #jimin oneshot

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constantlyirksome · 6 years ago

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RuCap: Snatch Game of Love (Spoilers)

The newest episode of Drag Race, which aired 5 days ag- YESTERDAY, was the highly anticipated Snatch Game episode. Unfortunately, or fortunately based on how you liked the change, Ru decided to tinker with the format, to create a spin off, the Match Game of Love. The guests, the delightfully delicious Gus Kenworthy and the gagalishus wonder from Downunder Keynan Lonsdale played to find their perfect love connections as the queens did their best and funniest celebrity impersonation. The challenge was split in two halves so it gave each contestant a good amount of time to shine. Before I talk about how they all did though, I’ll quickly run through the rest of the episodes events. Now I am not about to say Gia Gunn this season did no wrong, wasn’t catty, however, what was shown on TV wasn’t the whole T. Again, they push the forced, dated storyline of Gia as the villain from previous episodes. Gia has since released a video explaining her side of the story, and through that, her discussions with Manila, and her confessionals, you can see there is more to this wonderful woman than this bad edit. Ru and co can pull the “we don’t make them say anything” card, but they made sure to place the right bit of shade, or the nastiest reaction so that Gia came out looking bad. What she really wanted was to prove that women, especially trans women, had the right to compete, and be seen. At this point you have to wonder, will Ru ever except what everyone else already knows, and let the show evolve? Now, her Snatch Game, as Cardi B’s nail tech was a hot, stereotypical mess. As a backup for her original plan, Caitlin Jenner, who was instead portrayed by Trinity (more on that in a minute). She relied solely on her “fresh off the boat” persona; I personally don’t think she knew anything about her character at all, and instead was playing the roll of a Thai masseuse . In a wonderful conversation later between her and Manila, about being more than an Asian stereotype, you know Gia wasn’t trying to take advantage, it was just a very unfortunate pick for her. This conversation was one of my favourite parts of the episode. A genuine political discussion, followed by some sweet closure. Other dramas included: Trinity and Monet dragging each others wardrobes, and miss Latrice, again, just like season four, being angry at the other girls for stealing her shine, saying as Della Reese she didn’t get a time to be funny. But I ask, was it Gia being a mess, or Latrice not being a comedy queen that tripped her up? Trinity and Manila proved you can stop someone stealing your spotlight without breaking character. Now, for some individual Snatch Game critiques: Latrice as Della Reese, let her emotions get the better of her, not hiding her aggravation and eye rolls. As such, there wasn’t much to judge. Gia apologised, but I think it takes two to tango, and Latrice didn’t make me laugh. Valntina as Eartha Kitt, this girl was a scary mess. The voice was perfect, and I personally love the ‘Emporers new Groove’ reference but otherwise, it was all nonsensical. Monet x Change tried to do Miss Whitney, relying heavily on song titles and a weird water bottle stunt, where she drenched her wig, but she wasn’t terrible. I’ve talked about miss Gia, as Jenny Bui already but she was very domineering, answering over the other girls when she wasn’t being asked the question. She may have been trying to create a funny vibe but it did not work for her. Miss Monique Heart redeemed her last Snatch Game, Maxine Waters, by playing Tiffany Haddish. Her personality is similar to Tiffany’s so she got a couple of good lines in, and had good energy. Naomi Smalls played Wendy Williams. She could have potentially taken her match home, she was spot on and even stole the last laugh by recreating Wendy’s weird fall off the stage. Manila did a ludicrous Barbara Steissand that was so bad it was genius, and snatched her Keynan Lonsdale’s love connection. The giant nose, and facial contortion Manila is famous for, was classic, campy and fun. Trinity played Kaitlin Jenner, winning out against Gia to play the roll, which is fair, it’s a game, and she slayed. Her references to her age and repetition of the word “Malibu”, in her fake voice had me gagging. For the main stage the category was “Boots the House Down”, and it was a mixed bag honestly. Valentina, Monique and Monet served, but it was the week’s victor Manila, who won the runway a second week in a row adter her STUNNING silver gown last week. In a risky move, and I mean physically risky, she trussed herself up with pink belts, BDSM style, and literally hopped down the runway with a carrot ball gag. It. Changed. My life. The lip-sync obviously went to the two Snatch game winners Manila and Trinity, and Manila took the carrot out of her mouth long enough to fully embody miss Whitney’s ‘How Will I Know?’ She played the love struck, 80’s glam chick. Honestly, she won within the first few seconds with a few simple gestures. Trinity couldn’t quite reach her level, though she gave it her best shot, trying to show emotion with all that play dough injected in her face. Manila regretfully sends Gia home, and Ru scans the group of girls for the next fake villain she can throw under the bus. Observations: The judges were delectable. Keiynans fashion was EVERYTHING. Come through beret, and Gus Kenworthy was a good and fair judge. Ru showed us her legs, taking Naomi’s cheque.

#rupaul's drag race #rupaul's drag race all stars #all stars 4 #as4 #rpdr #manila luzon #trinity taylor #gia gun #naomi smalls #latrice royale #valentina #monet x change #monique heart #gus kenworthy #Keiynan lonsdale

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1ooo-w0rds · 6 years ago

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we met on ocean avenue

A/N: July fic anyone? I’ve started a collab with @dancer-dramatic-13. She came up with a fun social media AU for the pjo gang and been sending me edits! We’ve been bouncing ideas back and forth and got this gem. Keep an eye out for some adorable instagram edits. Thank you so much @dancer-dramatic-13 for getting me out of the writer’s block funk.

“Ugh what the hell?” Leo groaned as possibly the most annoying song on the radio right now blared from his headboard. “Who?” He murmured, palming for his phone as he pushed himself up. He stared at the caller and sighed. “Piper…” He moaned. Of course, the only person who’s fingerprint could unlock his phone. How she convinced him of that, the boy couldn’t remember. “Hello, Leo’s call service, currently annoyed.”

“He has a girlfriend.” Leo blinked, sitting up as he rubbed his eyes. The summer night heat made Leo’s body sticky. He scratched his neck as he parted the curtains, letting the cool breeze in. Stars stared back at him. “Are you listening? He has a girlfriend?”

“Ugh Piper, do you know what time it is?” Leo groaned as he rubbed his forehead. “I’ll give you a hint. Three. Freaking. A.M.”

“Pssh like you sleep?” Piper replied, calming down a bit from her outburst. “I saw your Twitch stream. Dating advice with Leo?”

“So you do lurk in my chat while away?” Leo countered as he leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out. Piper huffed, denying everything. He listened to her voice, missing her already despite just driving her out to the airport this morning. “Alright, Pipes, I’m awake enough to handle your crisis. Who has a girlfriend?”

“Jason.” Leo looked up at the ceiling, trying to connect that name with a face. “Blond Superman? He’s been tagging her a bunch on his Instagram. At first it was just little things like an ice cream cone or some acai bowl with stupid captions like #amIDietingRight? #orAmIJustDying? I think he was trying to make her laugh.” Ah, Leo remembered now, Jason is Piper’s newest Instagram crush. Apparently, he had a guest spot on the show her dad’s on.

“So? I do that with you.” Leo replied with a shrug. Piper sighed deeply. “I’m sorry I’m so disappointing.”

“Leo, you tag me in memes. It’s not the same.” Leo rolled his eyes. Since when were memes not romantic? “Anyways, her Instagram is QueenReyna. It’s filled of amazing beach shots and fitness stuff. I think she plays beach volleyball or something. There’s only a few selfies but Leo, she’s so pretty. Go look at her Instagram!” Leo rolled his eyes but opened the app, a little curious about this supposed girlfriend. He typed in her username, clicking on the first account that showed up. Sure enough, it fit the description that Piper had given him, and according to the followers list, it appeared that Jason was following her.

The first thing Leo noticed were her eyes. Unlike Piper’s which were mischievous and teasing, often in more ways than one, Reyna’s were intense and focused like she was staring straight at you through the camera. In most of her pictures, her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail or braid, a nonsensical style. Leo couldn’t help but wonder what her hair would look down, framing her face. How she would look with a teasing smile?

“Are you looking?” Piper asked, pulling Leo out of his thoughts. Leo could hear the mattress squeak through the phone. She was shifting, a nervous habit they both have.

“Gathering evidence…” Leo murmured, clicking to Jason’s instagram account. Jason obviously knew his audience as he took many behind the scene pictures with the cast of his various shows. One of his gags was taking a selfie with the next week’s script with the caption: #probablyDyingThisWeek #calledIt. The boy loved teasing his fans. As an apology, there was always a cute Thor, his adorable puppy sidekick. Leo blinked. This week’s Thor pic had a special guest. Reyna laughed as Thor licked her cheek happily, hugging the tiny fluff ball. #myBestFriendStoleMyDog #Traitor #ThorTheAmazingDog

“Verdict?” Piper whispered softly. “Is he half in love with her as I’m thinking?” Leo wasn’t sure what to say as he looked through the other pictures. Towards the bottom, there was a picture of Thor on the beach by the volleyball net. It was a stylistic shot of the sun setting in the horizon. The picture was an image of Reyna in a light hoodie sitting on the beach facing away with a frustrated expression, petting Thor. #can’tWinThemAll #ThorAndIStillLoveYou

“Piper…” Leo tried to start.

“She has a youtube channel as well, Leo.” Piper said tiredly. “It’s like really good. It's not just volleyball montages or practice advice. There’s videos of her speaking about being Puerto Rican and the challenges growing up away from her culture. How she feels both connected and disconnected at the same time. The way she speaks, it’s so relatable. It reminds me of, well me. I watched one of her videos and learned so much about her culture. God, I can’t even hate her, she's that perfect.”

“Hey, you’re tired.” Leo whispered as he laid down on his bed, listening to her breathing. “And jumping to conclusions. We don’t know the whole story. The internet has a way of twisting simple words. Get your full eight hours of sleep and we’ll discuss this when we’re in the same time zone.”

“Thanks, Repair Boy.” Piper whispered.

“Of course, Beauty Queen. I always know how to talk you off a cliff.” Leo replied before wishing her good night. His fingers drummed the bed as he sat in the dark for a moment. Reyna’s account sat bright on his screen. A picture of her with huge sunglasses and a wide sun hat, grinning at the camera staring back. Impulsively, he clicked the follow link. “To keep tabs…” Leo reasoned before turning the screen off.

#liper #jeyna #social media au #fanfic 2018 #july fic #pjo #piper mclean #leo valdez #jason grace #reyna #leyna if you squint #jaspier too #mine

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gabebhq · 6 years ago

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show me you missed me

TAGGING: Gabe & Dimitri (NPC)

LOCATION: Gabe’s suite

DATE & TIME: 12/20/17; late evening

SUMMARY: Gabe and Dimitri film a scene for Gabe’s channel, theme being face shots. (wc: 1278)

WARNING: nsfw

A soft chuckle passed through his lips as he turned the camera on, rolling his eyes at another’s words. Looking back, he saw Dimitri laying there on the bed looking as delicious as he remembered. Times away were hard, but they both knew what the cost was for his writing, knew of the sacrifices they would both have to make. Still, knowing that didn’t make it any better as Gabe made his way back over to the bed and crawled in alongside his boyfriend, snuggling up to him for a moment as he waited for the light on the camera to turn green. Turning to face the other male, he pressed a kiss against the man’s collarbone before looking up into his eyes. “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve uploaded any videos of me sucking you off. Some of my subscribers have been asking for a video of Angel taking a face full of cum.”

This earned him a chuckle as a kiss was pressed against the top of his head. “Is that so? Well who am I to deny your faithful subscribers anything? Just make sure you –“ Gabe cut him off then, playfully rolling his eyes as he did so. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Make sure that I edit your face out. I know the drill, babe. I’m not a novice at any of this.”

Shifting a bit then, Gabe pushed himself up so that he could settle down into the other man’s lap, enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend already a bit hard under him. “Have you been waiting for me, babe? Feeling a bit eager tonight.” A hard swat came to the top half of his ass, making him moan just slightly before shooting the other man a glare. “Shut up, Gabe. You know I always miss you when you’re gone.” It killed him to chastise Dimitri for anything, but cameras were on and he had a role to play. “Babe, you know when we’re recording, my name isn’t Gabriel.” At his boyfriend’s grumble, Gabe leaned in and pressed a kiss against his neck hoping to sooth any frustration that was there.

Getting the man to agree to stay with him upon learning what he did as a side business (or was the book writing a side business, who knew) had been a struggle, one that Gabe didn’t like to take for granted. It had taken a lot of talking, a lot of screaming, and a lot of makeup sex, but eventually they had agreed to some pretty basic terms. Gabe did his shoots just as any content producer would, but that was all. There was no sex away from the camera unless it was just the two of them. Then, there were special nights like right then where Dimitri would agree to at least have his dick on camera – preferably going inside of Gabe at a rapid rate. Gabe would always edit him out, blur his face, whatever it took to make him unidentifiable, and then his viewers would get to ponder over who the sexy man was that made Angel nearly cry begging to cum – a simple enough arrangement.

Settling himself once again, he began to rock in the man’s lap, whimpering softly as he could feel the outline the man’s cock through his boxers. The fabric hardly covered the feeling and for a moment Gabe wanted to thank whatever lucky star he had been born under to have this man fucking him nearly every night. He jumped just slightly as lips pressed against his neck, something he hadn’t been expecting. Lips pressed hard against his skin as fingers tangled into his hair only to give it a tug. “You like feeling me, baby? Do you like feeling this hard cock knowing I’m going to be stuffing it down your throat later?”

Dimitri being the first to initiate any dirty talk while they recorded was a rarity and it was one of the ways Gabe knew he had really been missed. “Yeah. Fuck, yes sir. I can’t wait to have your thick cock inside my mouth. Please sir, I need it. I haven’t thought of anything else all day.” Dimitri’s hands shifted to his boyfriend’s boxers, pushing them down a bit so that Gabe’s plump ass could stick out over the fabric. Another swat to the flesh had Gabe bucking against him, groaning at the sensation of their cocks rubbing together, the fabric of their boxers doing little to interfere with that pleasure. As hands gripped a little tighter on his hips, Gabe followed the movement, allowing Dimitri to lift him off. Catching the hint, Gabe scrambled off, letting his boxers stay snuggly wrapped around his legs, ass still bare as he tried to give Dimitri enough room.

It was probably beyond pathetic, but Gabe knew his eyes were widening and he licked his lips before he could really think twice about it as Dimitri began to push his boxers down. Thick hands wrapped around himself as Dimitri pulled himself from the fabric, but soon enough those hands were replaced by Gabe’s. It was easy to shift between the man’s legs, they had done this so many times. They knew exactly how well Gabe fit there and as sappy as it was, Gabe himself liked to think that he fit perfectly with Dimitri in practically every way for a reason.

He took a gentle grip onto his boyfriend as his lips came down to kiss the head before giving the slit a quick flick of his tongue – something he knew always got Dimitri. As he heard the quick hiss, Gabe knew it was mission accomplished. Wanting to follow on that pleasure high, he took the head into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it then lightly sucking before moving his lips down. Sadly he hadn’t been blessed with the lack of a gag reflex, but dammit if he didn’t try his best to take the other man each time. Sliding his lips down, Gabe took all that he could before stopping, taking the excess into his hands and stroking as his head began to bob up and down.

Dimitri’s fingers tangled in his hair once again, alternating between pushing him down and trying to keep Gabe from going down, but still he didn’t stop. Instead he simply shifted to kissing alongside the shaft, up to the head then down to the base before taking Dimitri into his mouth once more. Finally the tugs on his hair grew stronger and Gabe whimpered at the sensation. Someone really needed to tell his boyfriend that hair-pulling was not making him less inclined to act.

Still, he knew what that signal was for. With a few more ups and downs, Gabe then sucked up to the head, releasing his boyfriend’s cock with a wet pop as his hands took over. He looked up then, admiring the way Dimitri’s eyes fluttered, his head tilted back as he bucked into Gabe’s hand. “That’s it babe, let me have it. Mark me up as yours. Please sir, cum on my face.”

That did it. Dimitri’s hips bucked forward once more as his load shot out. Gabe barely had enough time to close his eyes, protecting them from the explosion as he felt his boyfriend’s cum hit his face. Once he was sure that none was going to drip into his eyes, he opened them, smiling slightly. Gabe brought a finger up to his own face, taking some of the man’s release onto it and pressing the finger into his lips, sucking on the digit with a satisfied look on his face.

“Thank you sir. I loved it.”

#( para; solo )

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justanotherpasafrisk · 7 years ago

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The town of the Hollow Fox’s

Art and lore by: @underswap-rial-ity

Edited by: @undertalebrothertale

Story by: Me

Once upon a time, there was a witch who lived in the forest at the edge of town. She was a kind woman who gave everything she had to the people. But at night, she would sneak into houses and judge your heart. If you were found wanting, she would steal you away from your home and drag you into the forest where the spirits themself would judge you, and if you were found truly bad, they would take you and make you one with the forest, to make up for your bad deeds by giving back to nature.

Sometimes I heard howling at night. In this old place it was hard not to hear it. Living in a small town with such a big forest nearby, everyone knew not to go into the woods past a certain point. But for me, it was the only place where I could get some peace and quiet.

There was a path that lead out from the back of my house into the beautiful lush green of the forest. I would follow it all the way until the end where there was a field of wildflowers (mostly poppies), and an old stone wall that served as a bench. There was even a small stream that attracted a variety of animals. I would sit there for hours and draw whatever came into my line of sight. Occasionally I swore I saw a fox out of the corner of my eye, with it’s pale face and dark fur, but when I looked over they were gone.

Today was a good day for going to the clearing to read, though I was a little nervous. I could hear loud construction vehicles all the way from my house, and as I got to the meadow my fears were confirmed. The beautiful flowers had all been crushed by the huge wheels of machinery, the stone wall that I used to sit on was now a simple pile of rocks. It was heartbreaking to see.

Soon one of the construction men ran over to me and started yelling at me for being so close to the construction site.

I could only look on in horror at the destruction that he and his men lay down. It was a sad sight, to be sure, It left my heart aching, so i turned to the man and gave him a warning. “Don't stay out here when the stars are out… Anyone who does goes missing.”

The man just scoffed at me and pushed me to the ground, telling me that this was no place for children. I took one last look at the forest and the machines that were cutting and ripping the trees apart to build… well… whatever it was when they were going to build here, before I turned to run off home, where my older sister was likely waiting for my return.

I got home and sighed. I felt bad for the forest, felt awful that I didn't do anything to stop the construction. Maybe I should have tried harder? Maybe I should have protested.

That's it! A protest! There was no way anyone else in the town could know that the witch’s meadow was being destroyed! They would never allow it, it was a historical site!

I immediately jumped to action, tearing through my sketchbook. I pulled out a page that was at least decent. It was a sketch of the meadow before the construction had started. I also grabbed my camera.

I rushed down the path back into the forest. I took many pictures of what was happening. I was about to turn and head home when I felt the back of my shirt being yanked so hard that I fell, camera tumbling from my hands and into a bush.

I could only feel terror as the voice of the man from before boomed into my ears. “What the hell did I tell you about coming to this construction site, you damn kid!? That’s it, we’re calling the boss, you’re going to learn the hard way what happens to nosey ass kids when they snoop!” A firm grip around my arm yanked me to my feet. I felt myself being dragged, all the while the man ranted about me needing to be taught a ‘lesson’. All I could do was struggle and cry for help as the other workers in their bright construction gear paused to see the spectacle.

“Someone shut that kid up!” one person shouted. I was about to start yelling again, but there was a sharp pain in the back of my head and everything went black.

When I woke up everything felt sore and uncomfortable. I could see a lone poppy flower sitting in front of my face. Just when I thought that it had all been an awful dream, the flower, along with my hopes, was crushed under the boot of the man who had grabbed me. He was likely the same one who knocked me out. I looked up to try and get a view of his face but it was too dark.

Wait, it was dark? Yes, I could see the stars! It seemed that the workers had stopped for the night, and while the majority lived close enough to simply drive home, there were some who had started a fire from the trees that they had cut down. It made me feel sick.

I was pushed into an upright sitting position. I tried to talk, but I was gagged. I tried to struggle, but my hands, arms, and legs were tied up. I shot a glare at the man responsible, only for him to laugh. In that moment, I truly wished that the legends of the forest were true, that these men would be punished by the spirits here and never be seen again. But then, so would I, and I wanted to go home to see my older sister again.

As the night went on, a strong gust of wind blew through the clearing. It was strong enough to put out the fire and almost strong enough to knock over some of the bigger pieces of machinery. Tents were upturned, papers scattered, and everyone rushed to try and gather their things. Then the wind stopped. It was dead silent.

Then there was the howling. It started as one, a chilling howl that made my blood feel like ice in my veins. Another joined in, more and more voices howling. Eyes started to show up from the remaining trees, glowing like fox fires in sets of two, staring into the eyes of the workers who had scattered around so thinly that they could be picked off easily. They were entranced. “Don't look,” I tried to warn them, but of course I was gagged.

I squeezed my eyes shut. There was screaming from all around me, footsteps thumping, a hand around my ankle that begged for my help, but that vanished almost as soon as it came. Soon, a hush settled over everything.

When I opened my eyes, the field was devoid of life. The machines were covered in ivy so thick one might wonder if there was anything there to begin with. The ruined ground was once again covered with poppies and other flowers. But the thing I was most shocked about was that all of the trees, every last one that had been cut down, were back. I counted them out. There was a new tree for every worker who had been there. I could see bits of the reflective material sticking out in some places, and in some cases I could see a face contorted in pain and fear.

My own terror grew even greater as I felt vines growing around my legs. I squeaked around my gag and attempted to free myself. Then the vines stopped growing. Out of the forest I could see one last set of eyes, and I couldn't stop staring at them. Was I next? I trembled as the eyes emerged from the trees and a creature padded towards me with something in its mouth. The creature had a pale face and dark fur that matched the forest. It came forward and dropped my camera in front of me. I felt the bonds around my hands and ankles suddenly vanish, and the creature looked me in the eyes as if to say something. “Go, and give your humans warning. Next this happens, we will not be so kind as to wait.”

I got the message loud and clear. It turned away and vanished back into it’s forest. I scooped up the camera and left, tears running down my face as I ran to my path, my safe passage to home.

“That day has haunted me for years, but as I have come to know it, the spirits I saw that day were called hollow foxes. They have been the guardians of this town for centuries. Floods that wrecked the valleys seemed to avoid our town. Scorching sun that killed all plant life didn't seem to have much effect on our crops. And while I regret deeply that those workers had been taken that day, I can't help but give thanks that our protectors are so forgiving of us. This is why we go out and plant trees every generation. We grow these saplings from seeds with love and care until they finally become trees that will one day become homes for the hollow foxes, and in return they will thank and protect us furthermore.”

The old man finished telling his story to his grandchildren, who listened with wide, wondrous eyes. The two young kids held tightly to the pots of trees that they had been growing for two years. Today was finally the day that they would plant their trees in the beautiful clearing full of poppies. While he told them the story of how this tradition started, if you listened closely, you might be able to hear the steps of the hollow foxes who were listening as well.

#not the kind one (ooc)#short story

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chrismdthings · 7 years ago

Text

me & you

pairing: chris dixon x reader warning(s): none, just fluff note: just a lil something that came to mind / inspired by song 6 - george ezra / 1,236 words

And everybody’s waiting, waiting for the sunrise And I’m, woah I’m, waiting for you

Chris swore that he was never really a coffee person.

He was always more of a tea guy- waking up early to put on the pot to wake him up, and give him a fresh start of the day.

Throughout his whole life he never thought that one day he would exchange his cup of sugar and milk tea for a bitter black coffee that nearly left him gagging at the smell. But people grow, they aquire new taste, and Chris swore if the woman behind the counter said they didn’t have enough to fill a cup, he would have demanded some sort of drink to kick-start his day or at least wake himself up.

In his current state, coffee was more like a life necessity rather than personal taste. Coffee was there to keep him awake while filming, traveling, or cramming in every second of editing he could before the promised release date. And now, to stay awake at an airport, awaiting the arrival of a girl.

A girlfriend.

A real one, anyways.

Not a one-night stand, no booty-call (much to his friends suggestions that he needed something so simple), no F-W-B, and not an imaginary person he created during a weekend trip to his uncle’s when everyone was hounding him with questions.

A. Real. Girlfriend.

A girlfriend whose flight was supposed to arrive half an hour ago, but of course traveling was never really on your side when it came to departure times. Or anything to do with traveling lately- you were just happy to have your luggage with you on your way to Jersey. This time anyways.

Three months Chris has waited for you to return to Jersey, to return to him. He had waited for you to return the moment you left for Bavaria. It had previously been a series of texts and long phone calls until the ungodly hours of the morning, but recently it was Skype calls every night as you packed your things into a suitcase.

Chris had planned your return for the longest time now. It was even worse than the two-month preparations he made for your birthday last year. He had been planning your return for three months. Whether it was sending out tweets informing fans he would have a couple weeks without posting (they expected it from someone whose schedule was shite anyways), planning filming in London around the day, buying all of your favorite flowers and candies for a welcome-home basket, cleaning his place routinely to make sure it was spotless, creating a movie watch-list, and even practicing how he was going to hug you when he finally seen you again.

But all of the planning and practice in the world couldn’t prepare Chris for the moment he seen you again.

Finishing off a black coffee from the airport cafe, Chris made his way to the arrival area just next to the security checkpoint. Families and people were lingering around with signs, welcoming back their children from university or holidays, and others were beaming bright smiles as they bounced on their toes. Well, Chris was anyways.

You and Chris had been an officially couple for a little over two years now, counting from the day you two shared the first kiss in Nice. And throughout those two years, you and Chris had dealt with the distance more than once. Whether it was him traveling back and forth to London for an extended amount of time, Paris, or you going back and forth to Bath to see family, and now you were going to university in Munich on top of that.

Needless to say, Chris couldn’t be happier to have you home now.

Well, almost home.

Hearing the shuffle of feet and suitcases being rolled along the linoleum floor, Chris looked up to see a large group of people emerging to the arrival area from the depths of Jersey Airport. He raised onto his toes, looking at the tops of heads as the group of people approached him, and he spotted a familiar dark green baseball cap among them, poking out behind commuters shoulders.

Chris felt his heart kick against his chest, and his fingers nervously wrapped tighter around the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

When the commuters split apart, some running to the lingering families around him, Chris finally saw you. A baseball cap on your head, fresh face, and a sleepy grin as you rolled your luggage next to you. However, when you finally met eyes with Chris, he swore he hadn’t saw you smile so large before. It was 5 AM, you were fresh off a train and a flight, but that didn’t stop you from being as happy as physically possible.

On instinct, you pushed your way through the people in front of you, nearly tripping over their luggage and shoving against their shoulders, but you didn’t pay them any mind. You used all of your average height but strong abilities to push through them. Chris laughed, now knowing not to doubt your strength anymore, and then took a few steps over to meet you.

You and Chris embraced for the first time in months. He hugged you tight, arms squeezing around your shoulders as you buried your face into his neck and hugged his torso. His arms were warm, inviting, and made you never want to leave him again.

You two could stand there for hours but it wouldn’t make up for the lost time. However, you two could give it a shot.

“Chris,” you breathed into his shoulder as he nearly squeezed all the air out of your lungs.

Chris felt his heart race speed up just at the sound of your voice in the presence once again. “Love,” he whispered, trailing off, his voice muffled by your hair. "Welcome home.”

You clutched a handful of the material of his shirt, holding him close as your bodies molded together. “I have missed you so much.” You whispered back with a smile, still burying your face into his chest. “I swear I’m never leaving you again.”

Chris chuckled and placed a kiss on the crown of your forehead. “Let’s not even say the word leaving right now.” He said. “You’re back. You’re finally back.”

“And with you.” You said before looking up at him, smiling when your eyes met, and then he kissed you softly.

Gently pulling back from each other, you watched Chris bring the bouquet of flowers around your shoulder and hand them to you. Feeling all of the love run through you, you swore your heart grew five sizes. Reaching out, you took the bouquet of your favorite flowers from him.

Chris smiled even wider, watching you smile softly and take a whiff of the flowers scent. He looked at you, familiarizing himself with his favorite features of yours- the way your eyes twinkle when you look at him, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could definitely get used to waking up to that for the next few weeks.

“I’m so happy your home.” Chris said, reaching out and taking the handle of your suitcase. His other arm drifted across your shoulders, pulling you into him again. “Now, I have so many things planned for us.”

You raised a brow up at him. “What do you have in mind, Dixon?”

He smiled. “That’s for me to know and you to find out, love.”

#chrismd #chrismd10 #chris dixon #chrismd imagine #chrismd10 imagine #chris dixon imagine #chrismd drabble #chrismd10 drabble #chris dixon drabble

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thekastlediaries · 8 years ago

Note

"I need you to scream. You're Karen Page he's the Punisher, he will come for you." in which Karen hurt and taken by a villain and Frank is enraged. (I was inspired by the Tarzan trailer)

Hey, so today I actually cracked 1000 followers and I cannot believe it! I’m so happy there are so many people here that like this ship as much as me and I’ve had so much fun reading the stories everyone has written and reblogging the edits and the wonderful amazing fanart. I have so little to offer fandom sometimes, and I’m way too broke to do a giveaway, but I thought if I sat down and really concentrated on filling a prompt that might be enough to commemorate this little milestone. :D I hope you like it.

VIOLETS AND VIOLENCE on ao3

The last thing she remembered was the smell of violets, dainty petals pushed against her nose, the sweet scent invading her sinuses. She’d closed her eyes for half a second to lose herself in the scent, to imagine that he had been the one to leave them on her fire escape. How stupid could she have been?

Now the only thing she could smell was the dank mildew of an underground dwelling. Poorly ventilated and even more poorly lit. The back of her head throbbed and she knew without checking that there was rather large knot underneath her yellow hair, perhaps even a gash if the moisture dripping down the back of her neck told her anything. Her sight was the last sense that came into play, an errant thought passing through the back of her mind as she wondered if this is how it was for Matt.

Her pupils adjusted to the dimness, faint far off light filtering down into her cell, the bars casting shadows across the dirty floor. It wasn’t the first time she’d been locked up, but she had to admit that the clean yet stark cells downtown were a lot more preferable than where she was now.

Trash scattered across the floor, dirt caked in the creases between tiles, reddish brown stains on the wall that leave no question as to what went on here… It was a scene straight out of a horror movie, but she just didn’t have it in her to react accordingly, a calm strangely numb feeling setting over her. How had this become par for the course?

She shifted against the damp floor, dispassionately noting that her shoes were gone and her stockings were now unsalvageable tattered things. Her wrists were free, the expected cold and unyielding sharpness of cuffs absent. Nothing around her ankles either. It was rather ominous sign. Her captors being unconcerned about her freedom of movement only meant the cell was secure.

She sat up, vision blurring for a second as her head swam. Nausea threatened. Best not to move too quickly. She made a mental note to see the doc about a possible concussion after all of this was over. Her surroundings gave her no clue as to who was behind this nonsense, and the only ambient noise was vague whir of a fan kicking off and on. Not enough to offer any clue as to where the hell she was being held. Just fucking perfect. God only knew which set of pissed off assholes this was. She had a real knack for making enemies.

She heard a shuffling down what must have been a rather long corridor, and her heart began to beat a little faster. There it was, that spike in adrenaline that told her she was in some real trouble. Her eyes darted around the cell looking for something to use as a weapon, lighting finally on what appeared to be a spoon. Shit. It’d have to do.

She quickly snatched up the utensil and shoved it down into her blouse, tucking it securely under the band of her bra before resuming her prostrate position on the floor and trying like hell to steady her breathing. These creeps didn’t need to know she was conscious… not yet.

Micro described it as a vacation, although Frank wasn’t sure if hiding out in an abandoned warehouse and living off canned goods for two weeks could be called a vacation. Maria had liked short jaunts to the beach, weekends spent in one room summer shacks where they let their bathing suits dry on the line outside and drank sangria on the porch overlooking the ocean. Sometimes when he fell asleep he could still smell the salt on the air, just like it had whipped across the water. He didn’t think anything he’d done in the last couple years could possibly be described as a vacation.

But it was down time, and he had used it as best he could. Sleeping off a fair number of bruises and cuts, laying back to read a book for the first time since a bullet had torn through his gray matter. It was amazing how nimble his mind felt after a few weeks of recuperation. He was raring and ready to get back to work, but Micro wouldn’t give him the all-clear.

Apparently he’d inadvertently stepped into some real shit, snapping the neck of an entitled prick who’d been swinging his dick around a little too forcefully. Not that Frank was averse to rolling around in the muck with scumbags, especially pricks like Kimball Blackwell. The man seemed to think it was alright to hire sex-workers and leave them bleeding in alleys. Frank didn’t like that, and he’d put a permanent stop to it with one bullet.

It was unfortunate that the Blackwell family also happened to be an organized crime syndicate that Frank’d never heard of. Based out of upstate New York, they were old school skull-busters that had been in the smuggling game since it was profitable to pack barrels of whiskey into horse drawn buggies. The times had changed and so had the Blackwell’s product. The family owned a lucrative trucking business now, slipping various shipments of narcotics hidden in tirewells back and forth between the U.S./Canada border.

But had Kimball Blackwell not been such an through and through piece of shit, Frank wouldn’t have had any real interest in taking them down, at least not any time soon. Creating power vacuums in drug empires had a way of creating more problems than it solved, and Frank, despite his reputation for being a homicidal maniac, liked to be a little more prepared when it came to things like that. The problem was the younger Blackwells had been born into an empire, and they were spoiled rotten little shits who got off on hurting people. The Blackwells minions had come out in droves to avenge Kimball’s death before Frank had even known what was happening, which had resulted in this little vacation from reality.

He hadn’t liked how quickly he’d had to snatch up his things and move into hiding, but keeping on the move was a normal part of his new life. The only thing about this whole misadventure that gave him real pause was worrying about Karen’s safety. He’d spent too much time popping by her place, walking her home, trading leads. This was exactly the kind of mistake that could pull her down into the bullshit with him, especially with a bunch of woman hating sadistic fucks on his tail.

Micro’s emails were succinct, nothing dramatic really. All they contained was information about the family’s movements, their dealings and whatnot. Frank poured over it all for clues as to whether or not they knew about her. Finally, after days of dry intel, Frank actually brought up her name, tagging on a short line to an already brief email: Page’s nose still clean?

He expected a simple reassurance, but what he’d gotten was far from it.

Haven’t noticed movement in a couple days. Will check personally. Stay where you are. The wolf pack is still out roaming.

Hours later he’d received a phone call on his burner, but it hadn’t been Micro or Karen on the other end of the line.

Karen expected her visitor to drag her up off the floor, to roughly shake her awake. What she didn’t expect was the quiet whisper of a man dropping to his knees beside her. Her whole body went cold when she felt the man drag the tip of one finger down the side of her face, pushing away one lock of hair in a sick semblance of tenderness. She fought the urge to gag as the touch traveled down the side of her neck, tracing along the collar of her blouse.

The man spoke. “So you’re his whore, huh? His little fuckbuddy on cold nights?”

He leaned forward to sniff at her, grunting in satisfaction. “I heard he couldn’t get it up anymore, but looking at you I’m sure that’s not true.” He let out a lecherous sigh. “Does he call out his dead wife’s name while he’s pinning your to the mattress? Yeah? I bet that stings.” He began to finger the buttons of her blouse.

Karen’s jaw tensed, her heart picking up it’s pace in spite of everything she did to slow it. The only shot she had was to incapacitate the man and make run for it. It sounded like he’d left the door to her cell wide open. In the the space of a breath she hauled herself up into a sitting position, putting all her momentum behind the heel of her palm against the vile man’s nose. She hoped the force would break the bone and shove it up into his brain.

Unfortunately it didn’t work quite as planned, and although a satisfying amount of blood spurted out, the man wasn’t lying dead at her feet. She scrambled away from him, ignoring the bellowing roar as she dove for the cell’s exit. An ear piercing scream flew from her throat. “Help! Someone, please!”

Large hands caught her round the waist, hauling her up against a burly chest, quickly pinning her arms to her side. The man laughed evilly in her ear. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t ya? It’s been awhile since I had one who liked to bite and scratch and scream. Too bad that’ll have to wait till later, after Frank Castle is nothing but a bullet riddled corpse.”

He began to drag her down the corridor, toward a door with a weakly flickering bulb behind it. She screamed again, this time her voice feeling ragged. “HELP!”

It elicited another laugh from him as he kicked open the door. “Keep it up, Miss Page.” There was a phone sitting on the corner of a desk in a room with no windows, he shoved her toward it. “Call him. I need you to scream. You’re Karen Page he’s the Punisher, he will come for you.“

She clammed up, stiffening at the prospect. Not a muscle in her body would move toward the phone. Instead she spat at the man. “Fuck you! Call him yourself.”

All the air whooshed out of her lungs when he slammed her up against the wall, one knee jammed between her thighs, a hand clasped around her throat. “Listen, you little bitch. You’re gonna call him, and you’re gonna scream, and if you don’t feel like it, I’ll just have to motivate you properly.”

He raised his hand, a bulky ring with his family crest on it glinting in the weak lighting. She scanned her memory for anything relating to it, but nothing came up. The hand came down against the side of her head, leaving a ringing in her ears as she tumbled to the floor. She barely had time to process the pain before he was hauling her up again. “I already have the number, thanks to his little buddy that came looking for you, but I need your precious voice on the other end of the line.”

She laughed bitterly. “You’re signing your own death certificate.”

He dragged her back to the desk, pinning her face down against the smooth walnut, the tops of his thighs pressing pressing against her backside. With his free hand he removed the receiver from it’s cradle and laid it next to her face, quickly dialing the number to Frank’s burner. Karen tried one last time to escape, bucking beneath his weight, trying in vain to get the heel of her foot up high enough to kick him in the balls.

The man only pressed down harder, listening intently as other end of the line rang. Finally it stopped, the ringing momentarily replaced by a raspy breathing. Frank was never one to speak first when someone called his burner, Karen knew this and so did the man holding her captive. He twisted his fingers in the hair at the back of her neck and yanked hard, eking out a surprised yell from Karen. She didn’t want Frank to walk into an ambush. She clamped her mouth shut, biting down painfully on her lip until she drew blood, but it was too late. He’d heard her already, his voice very far away, small and tinny on the other end of the line…

“Karen?”

Micro had gone radio-silent, that was the first bad sign. The second was the phone call, half a second of Karen yelping into the receiver, followed by the sounds of a physical altercation, and then the panting voice of the last man Frank was going to kill today.

“Come and get her, Castle. Or the same thing’s gonna happen to your whore that happened to Kimball’s last one.”

“Where the hell are you?”

More nearly silent struggling, judging from the speaker’s choppy breathing. There was a thump in the background. Frank cursed softly. There was no way in hell Karen would be compliant. He only hoped this was just some moron underling who’d decided to take things in his own hands to impress his bosses. There was a chance she might get out of this alive if that were the case. Frank waited for the man’s response.

“I’m so glad you asked.” The man rattled off an address.

Frank memorized it quickly, pushing away the tinge of red that was beginning to encroach on his vision. This was no time for a mindless rampage. He had to be quiet, and precise and leave no stone unturned.

He ended the call without responding to the asshole, reaching for his ready-bag. He was out the door in less than thirty seconds, running along the rooftops toward the docks, twisting a silencer onto his favorite pistol. The locations these pricks picked were really beginning to be old-hat for Frank. An empty warehouse with the words Blackwell Shipping slashed across the brick facade, the paint nearly as old as the crumbling bricks.

He picked off the snipers on the roof first, one shot, one kill. Each man falling in a silent heap before they could even register what had happened to their companions. Frank suspected the kidnappers knew this would happen, giving no shits for the unfortunate assholes posted up there. They were decoys, something to make him feel safe and in control. He glanced along the windows of the surrounding warehouses, finally catching the glint of a rifle scope in the moonlight. Frank took the man out with one shot, quickly moving down into the alley beside the building.

If he had anything to say about it, there wouldn’t be a lone survivor of the Blackwell family when he was finished with them.

As soon as the line went dead, the man hauled Karen back up against him. He pulled her back into the corridor, this time moving toward a set of damp stone steps. She fought against his movements. Every fiber of her being told her that going to yet another location with this man spelled disaster. She elbowed him in the ribs and took off down the corridor, only to be caught in the midsection by an unyielding fist out of nowhere.

She crumpled to the floor, and the new man picked her up like a sack of potatoes and threw her over his shoulder. “Where you want me to put her, Mr. Blackwell?”

“In my office. I have plans for her.”

Unable to catch her breath, she was helpless. She could feel the man going up the stairs with her, heard the click of a door unlocking. He dropped her in a heap on a slick leather couch, her vision doubling as her head knocked against the wall behind her. The bigger man was gone before she could gather her senses. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried valiantly to catch her breath and ease the throbbing in her skull. Everything was happening too fast, her mind foggy with the latest blow.

Her original captor was back, Mr. Blackwell his man had called him. She wracked her brain and still couldn’t come up with anything. Why did this man want Frank so badly? And what did he have planned for her?

One question was answered with the sound of leather belt sliding free from its loops and dropping to the floor. Karen’s eyes flew open to see Blackwell unbuttoning his trousers and stalking toward her with a leering smile on his face. “My brother liked to beat his whores a little before availing himself of their services, but I’m more of a gentle sort. Gentler even, I bet, than your fuckbuddy Castle.”

Karen felt her mind go blank. Men like this couldn’t be reasoned with. She didn’t have anything to trade him, no information, no assurances. He wanted one thing, and that was to crush her beneath him, to inflict as much pain as possible. He had no ulterior motive now that Frank was already on the way, and she had no means of stopping him.

Seeing her frozen in fear made Blackwell’s smile grow wider, and he threw caution to the winds, approaching her quickly. His snatched at her blouse, eyes dancing as the buttons bounced on the wooden floorboards. The motion made Karen look down, and she saw it. The metal edge of the spoon hidden in her bra.

In a split second she fished the utensil out, holding it in her hand like a dagger she lunged forward and plunged the curved metal into Blackwell’s eye socket, twisting the spoon and pulling out the man’s eyeball.

He let out a bloodcurdling scream, staggering back, hands clutched to his face. Karen was back, her mind firing on all cylinders. Quickly she jumped up, scrambling to the fireplace to grab the only weapon-like object in the room: a rusty fire poker.

She hit him over the head with the handle, heavy cast iron leaving a crunching dent in the back of the man’s skull. He dropped to the floor instantly, but Karen’s momentum and rage carried her forward, raising the handle over and over again until the man’s face was nothing but a bloody pulp.

The door behind her flew open, and she turned, fully prepared to fly at her next attacker, but she stopped cold at the sight of a white skull painted across a flack jacket. Relief surged through her body, making her go limp, fire poker falling to the floor. Her spiking adrenaline had nowhere to go now that she wasn’t fighting. Instead she burst into tears, knees collapsing beneath her.

Frank caught her before she hit the floor, holding her tight against his chest, soft shushing noises whispering in her ear as his hands probed her body for injuries. “I’ve got you. They’re all dead. You’re safe.”

She didn’t see him again for two weeks, but it wasn’t the same as the last time. One by one the heirs to the Blackwell Shipping fortune began showing up dead, clearly assassinated, one bullet lodged in each of them. She kept track of it in the obituaries, safely ensconced in Foggy’s apartment. Frank wouldn’t let her go back to hers until this mess was over.

When she did go back there were new locks on the door, a new steel reinforced door frame even, and the windows looked like they belonged in fort knox. The glass was suspiciously thick and Karen was pretty sure it could withstand more than a few rounds of ammunition.

And he was waiting for her, standing in her kitchen with small flowerpot clutched in his scarred hands, an unreadable expression on his face. She walked toward him, unsure of what he was thinking. “That for me?”

He nodded, setting the succulent plant on the table beside him. “I would have brought flowers but…” He trailed off, the memory of the violets still painful for the both of them. “Ma’am, I’m sorry–”He stopped short, something in his voice catching. His vocal chords were raspy, mostly unused in the past few weeks. The sound of emotion getting tangled in with the hoarse vibrations made her pulse skip. “Frank?”

He moved toward her, lifting one hand to her face, fingers tracing the spot where she’d been bruised. The mark was long faded, but she knew he could still see it in his mind’s eye. His roving hand slipped into her hair, cradling her head, fingers brushing against the spot where she’d been knocked over the head.

Swallowing, she tried to form the words to articulate how she was feeling. There was a well of emotion inside of her, rising until she thought it was going to spill out in a cascade of tears. He was being so gentle, his eyes probing so deeply into her soul. Before she could say anything, she was crushed to him in a tight hug.

He mumbled against her hair. “I should have stopped coming around a long time ago. You’re life is tainted by me. I’m sorry.” He began to pull away.

She shook her head, reaching her arms up around his neck and pulling him closer. “What’s done is done, Frank. Leaving won’t change that.” Her bottom lip began to tremble. “Please stay.”

He leaned down, his forehead touching hers, skin melding. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

#kastle #kastlelibrary #karen page #frank castle #kastle fic #kastle fanfiction #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fic #this one is a little bit on the violent side #so #assault cw #tw assault #it's not terrible and i feel like it's not gratuitous #but i thought i should put a warning #please let me know what you think.

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