#but then! then!!!! as they work together and gather intel!!!!
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roughentumble · 2 months ago
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YESSSS THATS SUCH A FUN IDEA
when he woke up, banner assured him "you're free now, it cant hurt you anymore," and eddie felt SICK he wanted to demand venom back, but he played it cool, tentatively said "so he's... gone," to gather information and banner replied "you've got nothing to be afraid of, i have it under lock and key. it cant possibly get to you anymore."
eddie had seen an actual ad in the paper for wade's "do-good mercy-nary services" which seemed absolutely ridiculous and he got a good laugh about it with venom, but now he's all alone and banner has venom locked away!! and there's only so much he can do with the information he'd gotten from banner about venom's location!! so as soon as he stumbles home he starts formulating a plan. he could try and do it on his own, but banner has stark tech that he's working with, and eddie's no good at hacking. a "mercy-nary" doesnt really sound like he'd be a good hacker either, but at the very least he probably knows how to slip into places unnoticed, right? and eddie doesnt have anyone he could contact about any of this. so he caves, and he gathers up all his meager savings, and he makes the call.
"i know how this sounds," he says into the receiver, "but i had an-- an alien. attached to me. and someone stole him, and now i want him back. he really matters to me, and he's been kidnapped, and i cant get him back on my own." there's silence on the other end, presumably processing this.
"well!" a cheery voice says, "why not aliens? we've already got mutants and magicians and superhumans running around. if you say he's been kidnapped, then we're happy to help! oooo, was it an eerie government facility, i love breaking into those and slaughtering everyone inside!"
eddie looks down at the phone nervously. maybe this was the wrong number to call. there's sounds of a scuffle, and the cheery voice whines something muffled and petulant, and then a much more gruff voice appears to tell him "ignore him. we'll help. bring half the payment now to discuss particulars, and half when the job's finished."
somehow the voice is even less comforting than the odd cheery one, but eddie's fairly desperate. "deal," he says. "and, uh, no, it isnt a governemnt agency. it... it's... it's bruce banner. the avenger."
silence. there's a squealing sound on the other end of the line, and a distant "ohmigod, we're gonna steal from an /avenger/! think he'll sign my boobs if i ask nicely?" the gruff voice, much closer to the phone, says "keep ignoring him. bring the money." and then the line clicks dead.
/the things you do for love/, eddie thinks despairingly
you know what we need? a fic where bruce banner tries to forcibly separate eddie and venom. after all, venom is attacking people, and he knows what it's like to be taken over by a beast that you cant control! and he cant be separated from the hulk, but he can save this human taken hostage by a space alien. clearly, he is helping.
only for eddie to wake up on a gurney after a soundwave attack and be forced to go on a super spy mission to retrieve his love, and shut down banner's sonic weapons
#but then! then!!!! as they work together and gather intel!!!!#they actually all start getting along!!!!#deadpool's crazy devil-may-care attitude reminds him of V#and logan is strong and steady and reliable and helps him stay focused and sure#amd they both respect someone who's willing to do all this for love. someone who's a good fucking journalist who knows how to get a lead#knows how to investigate and when to go for the jugular#eddie is too focused on V to see romance but it feels good to have someone constantly talking when his mind is so empty. a shoulder silentl#pressed against his when his body feels so lonely#and when they finally sneak into banner facility#alarms tripped at the last possible moment. banner doing an experiment on venom. eddie rushing into the room because he's so close#banner shouting “eddie? what are you doing here! watch out!”#and eddie smashes venom's vial on purpose to plunge his hand into the undulating mass#god. thats the moment he finally comes home. venom racing up his arm. sinking into place beside his organs. curling up around his brainstem#and eddie falls to his knees weeping and kissing his palm. “ive got you love” he says as horror overtakes banner's features#and venom comes out to play with none of banner's special weapons around to disable him#“oh fuck yeah!” deadpool exclaims at the hulking mass of black and teeth. “glad its on our side” logan comments#even all three of them together arent a match for the hulk. each attack makes him stronger and angrier#but three of them together gives them time to get away. and as they hide out in an alley venom shuffles through eddie's memories#“thank you for saving us and giving us back our eddie” venom says and pulls all of them into a hug#and its the start of a bwautiful friendship <3 where also they fuck <3#polycule au
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bet-on-me-13 · 3 months ago
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Bruce owes Danny money. He does Not want to pay up.
So! Danny had to run away from Amity Park when his parents discovered his Powers. But every time he tried to stay in a single place in America, they somehow managed to find him.
Turns out, they were working with the GIW to track him using the GIW's resources and the Fenton's Genius to find him everywhere he ran to. Eventually, Danny figured he had had enough and ran to Europe where the GIW had no Jurisdiction.
After wandering for a while, Danny was found and recruited by the League of Assasins. He was powerful, skilled, and connected to the Lazarus Pits, so they approached him with a job offer.
They would hide him from the Fentons, who had began to search for him in Europe independently, and in return he would work for them as an Assasin.
Considering his situation, Danny agreed.
He began training to be an Assasin, supplementing his Ghost Abilities with the abilities of an Assasin to become even more Stealthy.
While training under the League, Danny met another recruit simply known as Bruce. They trained together for years, even going on a few missions together gathering intel, and using disguises to hid in plain sight.
On one of these missions, Danny lent Bruce some money with the promise to get paid back when they returned to the League. That same night, Bruce left the League of Assasins and never came back.
...
Bruce was sitting in the Batcave going over a case with Tim, Jason was off to the side cleaning his Guns, and Dick and Cass were holding an acrobatics competition in their Obstacle Course, with Damien, Steph, and Duke cheering them on.
Suddenly an Eldritch Emerald Light sprang to life in the center of the Batcave, and everybody dropped what they were doing and sprang to action.
Slowly, a glowing green figure emerged from the Light. He appeared Eldritch in Nature, as if he existed in multiple layers of reality at once and looking at him gave them minor headaches. Then, the figure spoke up.
"BRUCE. ITS BEEN 15 YEARS. YOU STILL OWE ME 16 DOLLARS."
Recognizing Danny, Bruce took a moment to compose himself before responding.
"Fuck Off."
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homeofthelonelywriter · 2 months ago
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The plane was filled with soldiers, all getting ready to land and start the mission. Everyone was preparing in their own way. Some people were listening to music; others were reading either a novel or the mission briefing. There were the quiet ones, their eyes closed, and their head leaned back against the wall behind them. Simon was one of those. Before missions, he wanted to be in his own bubble. He’d drown out the noise around him, go through the plan again and again until it was in his blood. But this time…he couldn’t. Because of you.
“Love…” he sounded exasperated as he addressed you. “…what are you doing?” You glanced up at him before your attention returned to the project in your hands. “Crocheting, why?” He watched you for a few moments, the way your eyebrows were pulled together in concentration and your tongue peeked out from between your lips. You looked adorable. “Nothing, just curious, babe.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, ignoring the mask separating the two of you. By now, the pair of you were used to it.
Simon closed his eyes again and thought back, trying to remember if he had ever seen you crochet before, but nothing came up. This must be your first project. He couldn’t help but peek at you again, especially at your project. He desperately wanted to know what you were creating, but before he could ask, Price came up to him, gathering his attention.
“Ready?” Simon nodded and got to his feet. Unlike most of the other soldiers, the 141 was going to parachute out of the plane. He turned to look at you one more time, reaching down and tilting your head up to kiss you properly. “See you soon, love.” You smiled, though he could see the fear in your eyes. “See you soon, Si. Be careful.” He nodded, before joining the rest of his team.
The mission was cruelling, and he couldn’t wait to be back in your arms. They spent two weeks in enemy territory, trying to get the intel they needed. The rest of the soldiers were used in different missions to keep attention away from the task force. And it worked. After those two weeks, they had what they needed and returned to camp, where you were already waiting.
Being a medic, you rarely ventured out onto the field. Mainly, you stayed at wherever the base camp was and waited for patients to come to you. But when news traveled that the 141 was on its way back, everyone knew not to bother you. After all, you would never forgive whoever kept you from Simon. And the moment you saw him, you jumped into his arms. “I missed you.” He chuckled, holding you tightly. “I missed you too, sweetheart. Come, let’s rest a bit, yeah?”
The plane back to Britain would leave the next day, so you had a few hours to relax before that. Thankfully, the task force members all had their individual tents, so you could enjoy the downtime without Simon having to wear the mask. However, when he immediately wanted to get into bed and cuddle, you had to send him off to shower first. He stunk. Plus, it gave you time to prepare your little surprise.
When Simon returned to his tent, he found you kneeling on the field bed, wearing only one of his shirts and panties, while hiding something behind you. “Oh? What did I do to earn this?” You chuckled and shook your head. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Si. I’m not having sex surrounded by horny soldiers.” The faux disappointed look on his face made you laugh again before you waved him closer. “But I do have a surprise for you.”
He stepped closer to you, even kneeling down right in front of you when you asked him to. “Okay, close your eyes.” The way he didn’t even hesitate, the way he trusted you, made your heart swell with love. And though it wasn’t what you actually wanted to do, you couldn’t help yourself but lean in and press a soft and short kiss to his lips. “Keep them closed.”
Finally, you brought out what you had been hiding behind your bag and pulled it over his hair. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and he looked up, confused as to what you just placed on his head. “It’s not perfect, honestly, it’s the first time I even tried crocheting, but…” Simon stood up and grabbed the broken piece of glass he used as a mirror. “…when I saw it online, I just had to make it. Once I’m better, I’ll make it again, I promise. Just…do you like it?”
Simon stared at the beanie on his head, it was black and fit perfectly. “I love it. Thank you, babe.” You grinned and bounced to his side. “There’s more.” While making sure that he was still looking into the poor excuse of a mirror, you gently unfolded the edge of the beanie until it was a balaclava covering Simon’s face. A soft gasp escaped him when he realized why you wanted to make it for him. “This way, if you ever feel uncomfortable in public, you can just roll it down, you know?”
Without a word, Simon placed the ‘mirror’ down and spun around, pulling you into a tight hug. “I love you so damn much. I don’t deserve you, my love.” You chuckled, happily wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you too, big guy. Now, cuddles?” With a grin, he nodded and picked you up, carrying you to the bed, where he laid down with you on top of him, the both of you quickly falling into a deep slumber.
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A/N: This one is long...oops. Based on this TikTok. Also, I don't usually post on Sundays, but this is a little thank you for all the love you guys showed me recently and for 3000 followers! Hope you like it!
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moody-alcoholic · 21 days ago
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Literally obsessed with poly 141 x reader. Part 2
141 are called to the hospital after you’re picked up by paramedics after a drunken work party. 
Heed the warnings.
CW: dead dove don't eat, alleged assault, alleged sexual assault, alleged non-con drugging, hurt/comfort, medial stuff, description of injuries.
---
John is your emergency contact. He’s the captain, the leader, he can take charge and make sure everyone does their job. You were still confused, heaving into a bag as the paramedic was asking about who to call.
It was a work party, you only had a few drinks. You’re not sure what happened, you were talking with a coworker. The next thing you know there are strangers around, you’re outside down an alley, the cold London air making you shiver. 
“How much have you had to drink tonight?” The female paramedic asks. Your head is swimming, your body is sore. You have no idea where you are or what happened. Panic rises in your chest, you look up at her. She has kind eyes. 
“I don’t know.” You slur. Your body feels heavy. The adrenaline that was pumping through your system is wearing off. 
You don’t remember what happens next, all you hear is the screeching noise of sirens. 
—-----------------
John’s heart is racing in his chest. Johnny and Kyle are sitting in silence in the back seats of the car they all rushed into after the call. John looks over at Simon, his knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. 
“Park up, we’ll meet you inside.” John says as Simon pulls into the parking garage. He stops the car and everyone but Simon gets out heading into the hospital’s A&E entrance. Price makes a b-line for the front desk. Johnny and Kyle follow as he asks for you and what room you’re in.
The nurse has barely finished telling him when he’s nodding and making his way through the doors to the main ward. It doesn’t take him long to find your bay. He pulls the curtain back looking at you curled up in the bed. 
Your face is raw, your left eye is red and swollen, your neck bruised. The stunning red dress you left the house in torn, exposing your skin littered with marks. His stomach turns, he can see in your eyes you’re out of it. Reaching out for Johnny as he comes over to you.  
You hardly register them coming in, your head still swimming as you turn to look at them. Familiar hands touch your skin. Johnny’s fingers coming to your face, brushing hair behind your ears.
“Hi.” You say smiling up at him.  
“Hey lass, what’ve you been up to then?” He asks as Kyle comes over to the other side of the bed lacing his fingers with yours. 
Silent glances are shared around the room. John’s presence is unavoidable, he stands at the end of the bed, his arms crossed as Johnny and Kyle fuss over you. 
A nurse comes into the room. John turns to talk to her, she explains what they’ve done so far. Your injuries are consistent with sexual assault, date rape. The police will be here soon. 
The words from the nurse's mouth seem to change the energy in the room. It’s like a rehearsed dance they’ve been practicing for. Maybe it’s the fact they're military and used to working under pressure, or maybe it’s just the fact it’s you, laid in a hospital bed. 
John immediately takes up the role of leader-captain-in an instant. Johnny stays by your side holding your hand caressing your face, telling you not to worry. His kind eyes and warm smile distracts you from the commotion going on in your room. 
John’s voice is low as he gives out orders. Kyle is incharge of intel gathering coming over to talk to you, rubbing your arm letting Johnny comfort you as he asks you simple questions. You don’t remember much but you enjoy his touch.
When Simon comes in the mood shifts. 
You watch as he comes over to you. Johnny steps back letting him cup your cheek, his eyes scan your face, pulling your chin up to look at him. His eyes are hard, his lips pressed together. He kisses your forehead before moving back to the end of the bed. 
Johnny is back with his smile and soft touches as he brushes your face careful to avoid the sensitive areas. You’re sleepy, your eyes drooping as you relax into bed. 
“Tired?” Johnny asks, pulling the sheets over you. You nod before turning your head to look over the end of the bed. Simon's eyes are still on you as John talks. You’re not listening to what they’re saying. Kyle moves over, his attention turns to John. 
“What are they doing?” You ask, your words still slurred.
“Don’t worry ‘bout them love. They’ve got work to do.” You watch as Simon pulls a mask up over his nose before he and Kyle leave the room. 
You look over at Johnny smiling. John walks over resting his hand on your leg. 
“You’re okay lass, we’re here now.” He says his thumb brushing your cheek as your eyes fall closed.
----
Someone stop me...
Part 2
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chaoticwriting · 8 days ago
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The First Son
All the batkids have one common secret they are keeping from Bruce. That is the fact that there is a new vigilante in town. At first they were confused when they heard rumors that the bats had a new member since Bruce hasn't introduced anyone to this guy.
It is only after a little prodding that they realize that the guy they are talking about is just a new vigilante. A good one too. No one has seen him and the only reason they know it's a he is because of his voice. The goons often call him The Phantom.
At first, they were very wary of this new guy. Last thing they need is a new guy who decides to do whatever the hell they want in the city. But no. Phantom doesn't interfere with anyone's works nor does he create chaos whenever he works. The guy operation is smooth and if not for the unconscious bodies sprawled on the ground, no one would even realize he is there.
The first contact they ever had with Phantom is when Phantom gives them a tip of an Arkham breakout in the planning. No one knows how he knows but he just is. His information gathering is better than any of them including Tim and Barbara. They also successfully established a way of contact between them. Whenever any of them need help, they will leave a sticky note on the bat signal and they will receive whatever intel they want the next day. They try to see him by staying right beside the signal and even setting up cameras but none of them works with either the sticky note straight up disappearing or the cameras becoming static with the sticky note getting replaced with the Intel when the static is gone.
And so they go like this for a few more months when suddenly a tip comes up from an unlikely source.
Talia Al-Ghul has informed them that because of desperation Ra's is planning on kidnapping Tim and Damian to use them in a battle against Talia. She has been working to take over the League of Assassin after she gained news of her own father having dark plans against his own son. After the recent fatal blow to her father's faction, in a desperate attempt to defeat her, decides to break his own words and plans to invade Gotham to take Damian as hostage and Tim to become his apprentice.
The batfamily goes on high alert especially since Talia herself is there with her assassins trying to help them. But unfortunately, they underestimate how determine Ra's is. Talia nor the batfamily don't expect that Ra's would be crazy enough to bring his whole faction to invade Gotham.
Tim and Damian are not having a good time. Let it be known that normally, they can easily take down anyone they want to if they work together. Unfortunately, their opponent today is Ra's Al-Ghul himself. If Batman, Cass or even Dick is here, they would easily be able to hold their own against him. But Tim's expertise is detective work while Damian is still young and are at a disadvantage in terms of physical strength and experience.
Everyone is fighting to get backup to Tim but with the Supes out of this world and most other heroes busy with their own works, it is quite hard to deal with the assassins. That is until all the assassins are frozen on the ground. They don't know how or why but the assassins are now fully covered in ice with only their heads out.
A figure forms slowly in front of Ra's as his blade inches slowly towards Tim. A loud metal clanging sounded destroying the silence that has befallen the whole battlefield. In front of them is a man with black hair, blue eyes and very very tall. On his hand is a Khopesh that is directly parrying Ra's katana.
"Hello father."
The voice sends a chill into everyone who hears it. But for the Batkids, they know that voice. That is the same voice that is often heard whenever they try to communicate with Phantom. That means, the guy in front of them is Phantom.
"No no no. Impossible. I killed you by my own hand. There is no way you are here. An imposter. That's what you are."
Ra's says as everyone can feel the tremble and fear in his voice. And for the record the bats and Talia have heard Ra's voice being in fear before but this is different. This is the fear that you showed when you are in front of your natural predators. Your death.
"Indeed. It is a mistake for me to believe that you would love like I used to love you, father. And I loathe myself thinking about it. For the longest time revenge has been on my mind. But some people have helped me in letting go of the past. People who truly see me and treat me like family."
"How? How are you still alive? The Lazarus Pit swallows your body as a sacrifice."
"The Pit does no such thing. When you put me in there, you merely set me free. The Pit claims me as one of her own. And she takes pity on my life and decides to give me a better one. And for that I will be eternally grateful to her."
In a fit of madness, Ra's swings his sword towards Phantom. He doesn't want to hear any of it anymore. He needs to kill Phantom now. Before he-
A kick sends him flying across the rooftop towards the other side. Ra's roll on the ground growling in pain. That kick specifically aims to give me the most pain without damaging his body in the slightest. A feat that can easily be done by a very skilled martial artist.
Phantom picks up Tim and Damian that is still on the ground. With Damian fully unconscious and Tim barely conscious, Phantom sends them to the ground using what the other thought to be some form of telekinesis. They slowly pick Tim and Damian and after making sure Tim and Damian aren't in imminent danger, they try to make contact with Phantom, when a dome of ice erected from the ground surrounding both Phantom and Ra's.
Phantom holds his sword in by his side and slowly walks towards Ra's.
"My name is Danyal Al-Ghul. The first son of Ra's Al-Ghul. Today, I am here to formally challenge Ra's Al-Ghul to a death match on account of the continuation of the unsolved battle 500 years ago. All the members of the league are to be witnesses of this battle."
That sentence sends dread to everyone present. Talia knows of this tradition. A tradition that is used by her father to take down any opposition to his rule. That's why she has never confronted his father head on. She is not confident that she can win against him.
Ra's knows that he can't hide any longer. Last time he wins is barely because of an ambush and Danyal was poisoned. He would have never won otherwise.
Usually, Ra's prided himself in being a warrior. Who will dare to look death in the eyes to challenge it to battle. But people that are close to him knows that he is a coward. A coward that is so scared of death, who will do anything to run against it. But now, he can no longer run. Death has finally made his way towards his doorstep. Death in the form of his first son. The very son who he killed because of a prophecy he heard from a seer.
'You shall die a worthless death. At the hand of your greatest creation. He will be your end. The one who will put out your flames of life. Your first son.'
He has been enraged when the seer says that. He killed the old woman and even prepared a plan to kill his own son. The son that trusted him. He first sends him on a big mission where he knew Danyal would never fail. Then he makes a grand celebration when he returns. That's when he poisoned him, reducing his strength to barely a tenth of his full strength.
Even then, Danyal had put up a tough fight. Claiming Ra's hand while fighting him. He thought that he succeeded when life left his son's body. But he is greedy. He tries to awaken him again to make him into his perfect warrior. But the Lazarus Pit swallows him. Leaving no trace behind.
For the longest time, Ra's hid the existence of this son. He is his greatest creation. He is also his greatest shame.
Danyal walks slowly towards Ra's. The others are trying to crack open his ice dome but unless he wills it, even the sun can't melt his ice. Ra's is kneeling right there. Seemingly given up any chance of retaliation. Both of them knew that Danyal is the superior one between the two. Either intellect or strength. Danyal has and will always be better.
Putting the sword on his neck, Danyal asks him. "Any last words father?"
Ra's looks at him with an empty eyes that suddenly gains light as he thrust his katana straight into Danyal's chest. Ra's is about to laugh in victory as he thinks he has outsmarted his son again but then he realizes that his son is still standing there with his sword on his neck.
"Goodbye father." And with that, Ra's head flies into the sky and falls on the floor. Danyal can hear the screaming and shouting from the outside but he doesn't care. He has done it. His long forgotten revenge. His blood feud.
He looks at his father's corpse and burns it to ashes. He has made sure that the old man's soul has completely dispersed after the soul of people he kills unjustly has taken him apart one by one. What a gruesome death. Appropriate for such a vile human.
Danyal looks at people he can consider friends. He could see worry and Nightwing's and Spoiler's eyes, respect in Red Hood mannerism and confusion in Black Bat's body language. He has made sure no one sees Ra's body when he kills him since he knows some of them can read body language too well.
Looking at Talia, his sister, Danyal gives a nod, disperse the ice and disappears. Talia later takes control of all the assassins and they return back to their base after a quick talk with Batman. They heard the conversation from inside the dome. So they knew a little about what was happening.
After that night, Phantom completely disappears without any trace whatsoever.
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novelistwriter · 28 days ago
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Paranoia eats the Phantom
DP x DC Prompt
I've always read stories where Danny and the Bats end up together in many ways, but one story caught my eye, 'A Heart Worth Breaking', one chapter in that work on a03 has Danny snapping at the Bats for looking into him when he hasn't done the same, and it inspired me to make a prompt similar to that chapter
Danny escaped the horrors of both the GIW and his parents. They cut him open, seen what makes him tick. They run tests on the 'samples' they collect from him. They put him in a room and see what is best to work on him to hurt him. They put him in different Ghost Containment devices that are modified to inflict harm on him. They... they killed those he 'manipulated' (Jazz, Sam and Tucker) in front of him... just to see if he would reveal his 'true colors'.
He escaped to Gotham when the Justice League began a raid on the GIW base he was being held in. None of the heroes had shown interest in the calls coming from Amity, so why now? He wouldn't find that answer, as he just wants to live. He wants to be a person and not a 'thing' to be studied or a hero. Gotham has enough ambient ectoplasm for him to live in, so he had Technus Forge him some identification papers on the digital plane to be "Daniel Jasper Folson".
He did his best to avoid the radar of the Bats and Birds, but he couldn't ignore his obsession. He went out at night as Phantom to try and discreetly help those in need. He failed at being discreet and was discovered by the Bats and Birds.
He wasn't expecting to be requested to help them during some big hits on Trafficking Rings or gathering Intel on the big name rogues that are obviously hiding something behind the scenes. Sure, he only has Nightwing, Red Hood, and occasionally Signal to hang out with, but he's slowly coming to trust the Bats and Birds of Gotham.
He should've known that it was too good to be true. During a quiet night, where he was hanging out with Wing and Hood on a roof, eating Batburgers together, he overheard Oracle and Red Robin tell one of the two with Danny about their progress on finding more information on him or trying to get through the GIW logs kn him.
This causes him to snap on Wing and Hood, saying that they didn't care for him as another being, treating him as a thing to be studied and contained. He stops himself from revealing too much and runs away. He runs away to be with the lesbian couple that both remind him of his sister and best friend in some ways and who have helped him on occasion when he ran into them on the streets, trying to build up enough money to get a home for himself.
He is at their front door, waiting for one of them to open it after he knocked on it, tears still streaming down his face and looking heartbroken. They do let him in and do their best to comfort him. He is just staring blankly at nothing in front of him as the couple trues to get him to talk to them. He vaguely hears Harley tell Pamela something about flowers, someone called B-man, and about himself.
Before he registers Pamela coming into the room with the flowers, he sees one of the Bats or Birds land by the window. It's only after the Bat or Bird almost knocks on the window to be let in when he registered the flowers that Pamela has offered to Danny. Blood Blossoms. His body hurts, and with the bouquet of Blood Blossoms so close to him, his body begins to melt in a grotesque way into a puddle of Ectoplasm, and then thay puddle evaporated into nothing.
But that wasn't Danny. That was a duplicate he sent to Pamela and Harley. He couldn't fully trust them, as they were known to be, on occasion, working with the Bats and Birds, but he wanted to be with people he knew he could trust. And now he thinks that trust is broken, as he connected the dots, seeing one of the Vigilantes go to them, figuring out that B-Man is Batman, and the Blood Blossoms that Pamela had.
Maybe it's time for him to use his Ghost King title to the fullest. He can't trust the heroes of the world because of that trust had been betrayed by the Bats and Birds of Gotham, and he's going to make an announcement to the world.
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badgerbl00d · 1 year ago
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captain's girl
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☆ characters: akagami no shanks
☆ up next: tbd
☆ summary: shanks has always had a soft spot for you but as he spends more time around you that feeling intensifies- he's fallen, and hard.. how will he confess?
☆ a/n: i lost the ask that originally submitted this but i loved this prompt! so so cute and always lovely to write for my favorite captain.. shanks nation rise!
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Shanks hadn’t slept in days. 
Shanks- an emperor, had been a pirate for decades and he knew well what it meant to be selfish. To be faced with all the treasure and beauty in the World and it not be enough until one had it all to himself. But he’d only ever seen it. In allies and enemies alike he had seen that corrupting burning want- no, need for something that drives one nearly mad. He’d seen fellow seamen be consumed by this bubbling and boiling desire that had always sickened him to think about.
And then there was you. Beautiful, strong-willed, and unafraid of pirates and men and danger and swords and, all of the sudden, he began feeling the symptoms of that dangerous selfishness. He’d watch you laugh with Benn, or cook with Lucky, or play cards with Yasopp and his chest would tighten. His nerves would begin to ebb and flow in uncertainty and the terrifyingly unfamiliar feeling of jealousy began to sprout within the captain of the Red Haired Pirates. He’d spend hours poring over a potential solution– something to make it go away. But everything he tried was useless. Any slight progress immediately crumbled the moment you walked by him. He’d found a nice girl on an island and flirted with her, buying her drinks, treating her special as the rest of the crew began to pour into the bar. It was working! She liked the same music as him and thought he was funny. But then you’d walked in with Beckman, your perfume immediately recognizable to him and he folded. You were entirely captivating to him, and bless him, he tried to listen to the girl in front of him and feign interest in what she was saying but all he could focus on was the sound of you laughing and thanking the men who were sending drinks your way. On a separate occasion, he’d taken a different approach. You were in a particularly cheeky mood and not the most prone to taking orders, so he got frustrated. He leant into that frustration, barking at you for not listening. But you just rolled your eyes and begrudgingly got up to do what he was asking. As you walked past him, you raked a fingernail across his chest and offered assistance if he needed “any help de-stressing.” And with a wink you were off. After that little incident, he could hardly sleep and was quite literally plagued by (very inappropriate) thoughts of you and decided it would be best if he didn’t do anything for a while. This had been going on for months now.  A one sided game of cat and mouse that Shanks did not want to be playing, after all, he wasn't used to playing the role of mouse. Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.
But he was realizing there was no escape. Constantly you teased him, tempted him, lured him, all to act like nothing the next moment. His head was spinning. Just this morning, you ran into him at breakfast and asked if he wanted to go into town with you. He came up with some half assed excuse and tried his hardest to keep his composure when you pouted at his and said, “Pretty please?” He went up and moped in his office, going over all those moments when he felt that now familiar ache in his chest– that throbbing pain that felt like his swollen heart was being mushed up against his ribcage and had been making his daily life on the ship, oh, so inconvenient. 
Like a few months ago when, in your typical fashion, you’d put together a small band out of the rag-tag musicians on the crew. An upright bass player out of your intel gatherer, a drummer out of one of Hongo’s assistants, some brass players that you put through a very selective audition, and, of course, you as the singer. He remembers walking out after having a few drinks with those of his men that he was closest with and hearing the sound of your voice singing a soft jazz tune. ‘I wish you bluebirds, in the spring…..’ his heart picking up a bit, and him leaning over to look at the band playing, ‘To give your heart a song to sing, and then a kiss…’ Him rushing down the stairs and urging the crew to dance, asking Lucky to get behind the bar and start making cocktails and drinks, ‘But more than this, I wish you love’ anything so that he could sit and listen to you. He remembers the boyish surge of energy that coursed through him when you shot him a playful wink. A thank you for entertaining your antics and encouraging your little band of criminal musicians. 
Or last week, when you stopped by his office (he’d begun spending more and more time locked in there attempting to find reprieve from your presence which was quickly becoming all too much for him to be around) and knocked on his door in the way you always knocked on any door. Three rhythmic little taps, always quiet and polite. “Come in!” he’d said, forcing his voice to steady itself like his heart wasn’t crawling up into his throat. “Hey Shanks– I have something for you.” You made your way to his desk, dropping a little parcel on it before going to lay down on the couch in his office, a seat he always kept open for you. It was just an old leather chair, but he knew how much you liked it. He opened up the parcel, watching you pull out a cigarette and bring it to your lips, holding it droopily between them as you dug around in your jacket for a lighter. He finished unwrapping the gift, a compass falling out. Gold and the initials R.H.S. engraved in the back. The glass had been carved out so that it was angular and there was a detailed inking of the ocean in the back, and the north arrow was dark red. He turned it over in his palm, “R.H.S.?” he asked. “It’s funny, huh! Red-Hair-Shanks,” you laughed, “It made Benny crack up so I snatched it. They wanted $15,000 for it! Like hell was I gonna pay that…. Hey, do you have a lighter?” You walked back over to him, leaning on his desk, looking down at his face, batting your eyes at him all doe-like. He felt like he might faint. 'Benny' he felt a pang of jealousy but smiled to himself at the nickname. Beckman hated nicknames but you'd started calling him Benny and for the first time ever there was no protest from the man's lips. You'd wiggled your way into all their hearts like that- helping Lucky with groceries and keeping Yasopp company when he drank more than he could stand.
“Sure do, sweetheart,” he maintained his typical flirty cadence but failed to sound as confident as he usually does. You shot him a look. He sheepishly handed you the lighter but instead of taking it you leant over further, beckoning for him to light the cigarette for you. He swallowed and brought the lighter up to the cigarette, the two of you making eye contact as he lit it. You blew a playful puff of smoke at him before making your way back over to the sofa. You laid across it, kicking your shoes off and pulling a magazine from his shelf. “Playboy? Really?” He gave you an embarrassed grin and shrugged. You made a mental note that this magazine had been left open on a photo of a bikini-clad girl that looked an awful like you. Pervert, you thought. You put the magazine away and sunk further into the chair, taking long drags of the cigarette, filling up the room with smoke. Shanks was trying not to stare a hole through you and limited himself from looking over in your general direction. You were so at peace, your legs draped over the arm of the chair and your hands above your head.  An hour passed like this, the two of you sharing a silence that was only peaceful on your end. Shanks sat at his desk pretending to be deeply interested in a blank piece of paper and mulled over possible topics of conversation. He was trying not to beat himself up over his newfound shyness- he was like a teenage boy talking to a girl for the first time. When he finally got the courage to ask you about your most recent errand he was cut off before he could even start.
“Y/n!!! Help me with dinner, eh?!”
Lucky. You groaned sitting up, remembering that you’d promised to help him out with tonight’s dinner last week. “Sorry, Captain,” you said, putting your shoes back on, “I’d love to stay and fog up your office a bit more but duty calls.” 
He nodded and got up, nearly running into you. “Ah, sorry princess,” he said, guiding you gently out of the room with a hand on your back. 
“Try not to miss me,” you’d said, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and placing it in his. He furrowed his brows in equal amounts of confusion and sexual frustration. “Lucky won’t let me smoke in the kitchen,” you explained. You shot him a wink and were off. 
He took a short puff of the cigarette before taking it out and staring at it between his fingers. Your red lipstick stained the end of it. He took a very self indulgent inhale before setting it down on an ashtray in his office. It was the first time he’d smoked in a while.
He hadn’t remembered it feeling so good.
He was late to dinner that night and even Benn had indicated some degree of worry about his captain, asking if he was alright. 
Shanks knew this couldn’t last forever– that he would have to do something before he lost his ability to lead his ship entirely. But then, of course, there was what happened yesterday.
Some rookie pirates had convinced themselves it would be a good idea to try and loot your ship. You’d been out on the deck helping Beckman with some chores when the first group of them climbed overboard. Neither of you had particularly expressive reactions– after all, you could tell within a few seconds that they were neither strong nor experienced. Still, it was the general attitude of the Red Hair Pirates to avoid conflict as much as possible. So when they wrapped rope around your wrists and held knives to your throats you and Benn didn’t flinch. Some newer recruits had sounded the alarm which eventually led to the rest of the crew making their way lazily out onto the deck. Shanks emerged from his office, reading glasses still on and laughed at the sight.
“Yasopp– take a pic, will ya!?” he laughed, slapping him on the back, “Benny we’re gonna hang this up in the dining hall!”
Benn rolled his eyes and you smiled. It took another several moments before you realized that your body was feeling more and more weakened by the moment, but when you finally felt a dullness creeping up your legs you noticed that the man holding you was a devil fruit user. The Neru Neru no Mi you believed it was called, Sleep Sleep Fruit. Fatigue started to wash over you and you stumbled forward slightly. The laughter on the ship immediately ceased and Benn called your name. You tried responding but instead fell back, landing against your assailant's chest. Yasopp and Lucky both brought their hands to their pistols, and Benn had taken a more offensive stance though it was clear the effect was starting to weigh on him as well. 
“We’ll kill them both,” one of the looters had yelled. Yasopp shot Shanks a look, waiting for some kind of command. “Yasopp–” Shanks started, but he hesitated a moment. If his sniper made any kind of mistake it would be your life taken instead. Before he could react, your captor had drawn the knife down your arm, smirking at the cry of pain you let out as your arm was coated in red. “Shoot him,” he said, gaze turning black. You passed out, though whether it was from the pain or the effect of Shanks’ emperor’s haki on your weakened body was unclear. But the last thing you saw before blacking out was the haunting anger on Shanks’ face.
You woke up a bit later, your head throbbing and your arm bandaged. “Holy shit,” you muttered, “What happened?” Hongo and Beckman were sitting by your bed talking to each other and Lucky, Yasopp, and a few others were playing cards. 
"You passed out from the effects of the devil fruit," Benn explained, "And you got a nasty cut on your arm. But Hongo says you'll be healed up by the weekend."
You blushed, somewhat embarrassed that you were the only one to have been injured. "What happened to the other crew?"
Benn shot you a half-smile. An expressive mixture of pride and shame. "The Captain took care of it. Honestly all we could do was watch, we all know better than to get in his way when he gets like that. Never seen this ship so bloody, that's for sure."
You grimaced, "Suppose they won't be messing with us again?"
Benn laughed, "Definitely not."
“Hey, Y/n!” Lucky called out, “Want anything to eat?”
You sat up, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed and grabbing the glass of water Benn offered you, “Yeah, Luck. I’ll take anything, honestly. Where is Shanks?” Benn sighed and looked over at Yasopp who was giggling like a twelve-year old. You got the message. 
“Maybe we should tell him it’s obvious? And it’ll fix things?” 
Benn shook his head and leant back in his chair, “Nah, it would crush the guy. Maybe if you say something to him, though?” You thought about it for a minute. You'd talked with each other before about the captain's feelings. How he acted every time he was around you. Benn added that he'd never seen him like that before, "Buggy's given us stories about how he used to be around girls. He'd run the other way when a pretty lady talked to him. He's obviously gotten over it since then but it's sort of nice to see him like this."
"Can't blame him," Yasopp added, winking at you, "You're about the prettiest thing on the sea."
Yasopp was still laughing about it, over a game of cards with Lucky and Hongo. You appreciated their company while you rested.
“I don’t know guys. You know I love him just as much but will it be weird? I mean– no offense, but this ship isn’t really the ideal romantic setting. And what if he plays favorites?”
They all laughed at this, “He already is, sweetheart!”
“Just tell him!”
“We’ll have a big ol’ wedding!”
You rolled your eyes and asked to be dealt into the card game they were playing. Lucky came back with a bowl of soup for you. Laughter was filling up the small medical room and it echoed down the hall...  
Shanks’ crush on you was astoundingly obvious and what was more surprising was how he had been moping about it for the past four months. He was now in his room, shrouded in embarrassment. Half of it stemmed from the generally well known fact that Shanks and his crew were untouchable- or at least, should be. And the other, perhaps greater, half from the fact that you'd ended up hurt because he’d hesitated. It also didn't help that he had doubted Yasopp at all- he knew he never missed. He’d spent the evening drinking a bottle of whiskey to himself and replaying other embarrassing faux pas he’d committed in front of you. The bottle of empty whiskey sat in front of him on the desk and the sun had long set. He got up, feeling miserable, and decided to head to bed. He grabbed the empty bottle, pausing before he grabbed it. Your cigarette from a week ago sat in the mauve ceramic ashtray on his desk (also a gift from you– you’d said it reminded you of his “ugly pants”). He stared at the lipstick still staining the white paper on the end of the cigarette. His chest tightened and he looked out the window of his office. You were out on deck, your arm bandaged up, hauling some rope into a metal bin. He smiled to himself- an injury like that was no excuse for chores. You looked gorgeous. A white glow surrounded you from the beaming moonlight up above. Your hair was messy and flowed freely around your face shifting the shadows that fell on it. He knew, suddenly, that he had to talk to you. That in all his embarrassment and emotion and confusion about his feelings, he’d neglected to check up on you. He set the bottle down and grabbed the half-smoked cigarette, slipping it into his pocket. He paused at the door, momentarily enjoying the nerves that were coursing through his body. How long had it been since he last felt excitement like this? There were moments at sea where he realized that, thanks to his age and experience, he no longer felt those pangs and throes of youthful worry and excitement. But this? This was new and he was reeling like never before. He was submerged in uncharted waters and all of a sudden that spark of adventure that follows every pirate flared up inside him. Shanks closed the door to his office behind him, taking a deep breath. 
You wrapped up the rest of the rope and threw it into the container, before taking a seat on it. Closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself. It was rare to have a night so quiet. You could hear the faint sound of laughter and talking coming from below the deck. The ship was slowly rocking back and forth.
“Mind if I sit next to you?”
You blinked your eyes open to see Shanks standing in front of you. It still surprised you how a man of his size and power could sneak up on you so easily. It was a nice reminder of how in control he actually was of everything around him. It put you at ease to know you were in such responsible hands and guidance. 
“You feel ok? It’s my fault I should’ve–”
You smiled at him, “What? This? I’m fine, Captain– I’ve dealt with much worse, that I can promise you.” He frowned at that, “That’s not a good thing, Y/n. I don’t like thinking about you getting hurt.” You shrugged and ruffled his hair, “I’m a pirate. A Red-Hair Pirate. It’s bound to happen. And you’re not perfect either. Believe it or not. What’s going on with you lately? So sappy.” You knew very well what was going on with him.
Shanks smiled and looked down at the floor. This was it. Now or never. 
“Y/n… You know that, well, women love me and- and that I love women,” he started. Your smile dropped. 
“M-hm.”
“Uh,” he rubbed his neck sheepishly, like a child getting scolded, “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re not like other women.”
You looked at him, “Are you sure about that?” You looked unamused. He steeled himself– he was an emperor of the sea, goddamnit, you were just a woman! Just a girl on his crew.
He knew that was a lie.
You were his girl on his crew. And he was being eaten alive by your existence, completely consumed by the thought of you. He couldn’t live another day without relieving himself of his constant torture and the emotional suffering you put him through. He couldn’t wake up another morning without you next to him, begging him to sleep in a bit longer and asking him to hold you tighter. He couldn’t spend another night watching you laugh and smile and be the most beautiful, enchanting thing in the world and not call you his. You were his, not through ownership but through love. 
“Alright! Damn it, woman, you’re so intimidating.” Your smile returned. 
“I love you,” he sighed. It wasn’t as dramatic as either of you had pictured. He said it like he was simply reminding you.
“I love you, Y/n. And I have for months. Since I first saw you– since you first started giving me random antique shop gifts and coming into my office at the most inconvenient times and filling it up with smoke. I can’t look at the color red and not think of you. That’s my color, damn it! And yet– I see red and think of the brand of cigarettes you like and the lipstick you wear and the way your laughter sounds and the color of your nail polish. I can’t listen to music and not think of you. I mean- you’ve come on board and turned everything upside down. My men, my violent men, are playing jazz on Thursday nights! Lucky’s new favorite thing to drink is Cosmopolitans and Yasopp is taking daily showers and, christ, Benn’s new nickname is Benny and he likes it! Everything I have reminds me of you. This is basically your ship now. And I love it. I love how you're everywhere. And I- I need you. I want you but it's more than that- I need you.”
He took a deep breath and looked at you for the first time in weeks. You laughed- at him, and grabbed his hand. His cheeks turned bright red and he felt like a teenager again. You squeezed his hand, “F-i-n-a-l-l-y.” He took a moment to sound out your spelling, and smiled somewhat defeatedly. He laid his head down on your shoulder and mumbled into you, “Was it obvious?”
 You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his. It was refreshing to touch him without it being strange or feeling unnatural. To just hold one another and understand that that was all it was– a touch. That before either of you said anything and broke this mundane, normal silence everything was perfect. There was no room for mistake or anxiety or insecurity. There was just the mass of red hair on your shoulder ticking your neck and your arms wrapped around his. But you figured he’d suffered long enough. 
“Very,” you said, answering his question, “There’re a bunch of betting pools regarding when, and if, you’ll confess. Though you don’t make a great effort to hide it. Looks like Benny’s gonna make some cash tonight.”
He shot up, somewhat offended, “I do hide it! I’ve kept my distance from you and treated you like everyone else.”
You laughed and sat him down on the bin next to you, “No, you haven’t. I’m your favorite. And though you have been avoiding me, when you’re around me your face is pink and you lose all that playboy gusto you think the ladies like. Plus you have those magazines lying around. It flatters me how much I resemble some of those models.”
His mouth fell open at this, realizing he had left it wide out in the open. You smiled at this, but said nothing. It was quiet out again– everyone had gone to bed early, tired from the day’s commotion, an unexpected change of pace from the typical mundane life of a pirate at sea that normally consisted of chores upon chores upon chores. The sea was calm tonight, almost eerily so. You rested your head against Shank’s shoulder and closed your eyes, it was quiet again. You could tell he was itching for a response. You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him.
“I love you, too.”
You felt Shanks tense and opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He had a stupidly large smile plastered on his face. He was so damn handsome. His hand slid up your back and came to rest on your neck. He gently pushed your face toward his, a smile creeping up your lips, and tested the waters. You closed the gap, closing your eyes as you kissed your captain, shifting forward and finding your way onto his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you could feel him smiling against your lips. Shanks broke the kiss, pulling away after giving you a few more pecks. 
His arm sank down to wrap around your waist and pull you in even tighter. He rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your lips, plump from the kissing.
“You’re mine,” he said. 
“Yours.”
He sighed, relief flooding his body. You rubbed his neck, "Guess I wasn't as obvious as you, hm?" He laughed and squeezed your hand, "No. God, I was terrified. What an awful feeling."
You smiled. You were getting tired, and your arm was throbbing. "Wanna come with me to see Hongo? I think my arm should get re-wrapped." He nodded, standing up. You walked toward the infirmary, while Shanks stood back for a moment. Waiting awkwardly.
"Shanks?"
His name had never sounded so lovely. He was worried, "Should we tell people yet? The crew- I mean."
You laughed, and kept walking, "I think they'll figure out on their own. After all, I suspect that I'll be greeting them tomorrow morning with your shirt on."
He watched you walk on ahead a bit more before following after you, scooping you up in his arm and pressing kisses to your face. Shanks dropped you off outside of Hongo's door, letting you go in on your own. 'I want tonight to be just us,' you'd explained. Word does travel quickly on a ship. He waited outside the door, listening to you and Hongo talk while he rebandaged your arm. His chest felt warm and full, not with the previous tightness he'd experienced but full with satisfaction.
A familiar ebbing flow of egoism spread through his body. It was nice to be reminded of who he was. An emperor of the sea with one of the highest bounties of all time. A man feared and respected across the world. Wanted by the world government and untouchable to anyone. Almost anyone. Your voice bubbled up over the sound of his thoughts for a moment. His confidence had quickly reinstated itself.
After all, Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.
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d-z20 · 1 month ago
Text
Caught in the Crossfire (NSFW)
Pairing: Rio Vidal x Reader
Summary: You're an FBI agent and get partnered with Agent Vidal on a big case. When the mission goes wrong and Rio gets shot, you are forced to stay at a safehouse together.
-OR-
They say orgasms are good for pain relief so you fuck Rio to make the pain go away 🙃
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mention of gangs, gunfight, hurt (gunshot wound), smut, fluff
Words: 3.1k
A/N: They is me, I am they, I say orgasms are effective pain relief. Oh and this is another requested fic :)
AO3 link | Master List
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Rio leans against the desk, tapping a pen against the stack of files she’s just dropped with a flourish. Her eyes pin you with a challenging stare. “Five bucks says you screw up this case before the week’s out.”
You glance up from your laptop, unimpressed. “Bold talk from someone who hasn’t cracked a case this big since Quantico. What’s the matter? Rusty?”
This was the rhythm of your partnership: sharp words, sharper looks, and a constant undercurrent of rivalry. You’d both been top recruits at the academy, though on completely different tracks—Rio had excelled at strategy and undercover work, while you were a natural at analysis and tactical planning. When you’d been paired for this joint case six months ago, it was clear you were opposites in every sense, and it made working together a special kind of hell.
The task force had been chasing a dangerous gang involved in arms trafficking. Their network spanned multiple cities, but all signs pointed to the heart of their operations being a hidden warehouse in the city. The gang was clever—covering their tracks with misdirection and red herrings—which made your job of piecing together clues exhausting. But a major break had come two weeks ago when Rio went undercover, infiltrating the gang as a low-level buyer. She’d managed to secure critical intel about their shipment routes and a few key players, but her cover had been blown when one of the gang members got too suspicious.
You’d both known the risk when she took the job, and while you’d been impressed by her quick thinking, you couldn’t ignore the danger that still lingered. Now, you were both back at square one, tracking their movements, one step closer to the warehouse and the showdown tonight.
“Tonight’s operation better go off without a hitch,” you grumble, glancing back down at the laptop. The tension between the two of you, always present when working these kinds of cases, never seems to go away.
Rio smirks and straightens up, walking closer as she flicks through some of the paperwork right next to your laptop.
“You’re standing too close,” you mutter, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the sudden proximity.
Rio doesn’t budge, standing tall with that usual confidence. “You’re the one who can’t stand my brilliance that close to your face, huh?”
You grit your teeth, trying to focus on the case. “You just make everything more difficult.”
She smirks, eyes flicking to your lips as she leans in slightly. “I think you like it that way.”
The two of you sit in the cramped surveillance van, tracking the comings and goings of gang members through grainy security footage.
“Don’t get yourself killed tonight,” Rio mutters, strapping on her bulletproof vest. Her tone is teasing, but you catch the flicker of genuine concern behind her words.
“I’m not the one who’s always charging into danger,” you shoot back, pulling on your own vest.
“Someone has to, or we’d be stuck analysing spreadsheets all day,” she says, smirking.
Despite the banter, the tension in the air is palpable. This operation is the culmination of months of work, and failure isn’t an option.
The warehouse is eerily quiet when you enter. Your movements are synchronised—Rio leads the way, gun raised, while you keep watch.
“They’re here,” Rio whispers, gesturing toward the far end of the warehouse.
You nod, heart hammering in your chest. The two of you move closer to the group of gang members gathered around crates of weapons. Everything is going according to plan—until it isn’t.
A lookout you hadn’t accounted for shouts a warning. Instantly, all hell breaks loose. Bullets rain down as the gang opens fire.
“Take cover!” Rio shouts, pulling you behind a stack of crates.
You return fire, pulse racing as you try to assess the situation. “We’ve got to fall back!”
“Not yet,” Rio says, jaw tight. She pops up to return fire, but then a sudden cry of pain tears through the air. A bullet strikes her shoulder, and she collapses to the ground.
“Rio!” you shout, stomach dropping. Without thinking, you drag her behind a steel beam, using it for better cover.
“Stay down!” You bark, positioning yourself in front of her to shield her from the continuing onslaught.
“Don’t—” Rio winces, gripping her shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot. I can still—”
“Shut up and focus on not passing out,” you snap, returning fire as the adrenaline courses through your veins. The gang is closing in, and panic gnaws at you. You need to get her out of here.
The minutes before the rest of the task force storm the warehouse feel like hours; Rio is bleeding heavily from her wound, and all colour has faded from her face. The remaining gang members are finally subdued in a chaotic flurry of shouting and gunfire.
You don’t move from your position until the scene is secure. When it’s finally clear, you turn to Rio, voice tight. “You okay?”
“I’ve been better,” she mutters, her face pale but her signature smirk still intact. “But hey, you were pretty heroic back there. Almost makes me like you.”
“Save your breath,” you say, though relief is slowly replacing the panic that has gripped you earlier.
The on-site medic patches her up as best as they can; she was lucky the bullet went straight through, but her wound still needs close monitoring. You learn that a high-ranking gang member had slipped away at the start of all the chaos, but not before getting a good look at you and Rio. Since you know their network is likely everywhere, you decide transporting her to a hospital is too risky. You need a safehouse—a remote location where she can recover while you regroup.
The cabin is small, tucked away in a far-out forest. It’s equipped with basic supplies, offering the isolation you need to keep a low profile. You enter first, checking the place out. Then, you return to Rio, who is sitting on the edge of the bed, her arm in a sling, bandages covering her shoulder.
You linger by the door, watching her with an uncharacteristic softness you rarely show.
“If you’re here to scold me for getting shot, you can save it,” Rio says, her voice light but tired.
You step inside, setting a bottle of water down on the nightstand. “Actually, I’m here to make sure you don’t bleed out from being a stubborn idiot.”
“Touché,” she says, lips curving into a faint smile.
You hesitate, then take a seat beside her, the usual distance between you feeling smaller now. “You scared me back there,” you admit quietly, glancing down at her bandaged shoulder. “Don’t do that again.”
Her gaze softens as she looks at you. “I wasn’t planning on making it a habit. But you…” Her smirk returns, though it’s gentler this time. “You were incredible.”
Your cheeks heat, but you quickly brush it off with a shrug. “Someone had to keep you alive; the paperwork would’ve been horrendous otherwise.”
You turn towards her, carefully peeling off the bloody bandages on her shoulder. Your fingers brush against her skin as you work, and though Rio winces, she doesn’t utter a word of protest. The silence between you feels heavy but not uncomfortable.
As you apply the fresh bandages, you glance up, catching her watching you with an unreadable expression. Her lips quirk into a faint smirk, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“You’re too quiet,” you say softly, trying to distract her. “That’s not like you.”
“Trying not to ruin the moment,” she teases, though her voice is quieter than usual.
Your hands linger for a moment after you finish, your gaze falling to the wound. “You need to be more careful,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
She tilts her head, her smirk softening into something more sincere. “And miss the chance to see you play nursemaid? No way.”
You let out a quiet laugh, but your hand remains against her shoulder, your thumb grazing the edge of the bandage. Silence stretches between you, comfortable yet charged with the unspoken things neither of you have said before. 
Finally, Rio speaks again, her voice quieter now. “You didn’t have to risk yourself like that.”
You meet her gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course I did. I couldn’t just leave you.”
Her eyes hold yours, steady and searching, and for the first time, you don’t feel the need to look away. Her lips part, and she leans in, testing the waters with a soft kiss. It’s gentle, hesitant, but when you don’t pull away, she deepens the kiss.
You feel the weight of everything unravelling between you. The kiss is slow at first, exploring, but then it quickly becomes urgent and heated. Hands roam, pushing past the boundaries of what had been comfortable before. You feel her press into you, her warmth seeping into your skin, making you forget everything but the two of you.
When you pull away, breathless, her eyes are dark with something more than desire. “I want something with you,” she whispers, “something real.”
You kiss her again, this time with no hesitation, pulling her closer, as if you could somehow make up for all the time you’ve spent pretending not to like her. You take your time, making sure to be gentle with Rio’s injury, always mindful of her shoulder. As you kiss, your hands are careful, exploring her without rushing. You help her undress slowly, checking in with her each time, making sure she’s comfortable.
She groans softly when your lips trace her jaw, your fingers grazing across the tender spots where her bandages are. You can feel the heat between you building, but you stop to kiss her forehead, your breath shaky as you say, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Rio’s eyes soften, her fingers threading through your hair. “You never could,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.
You take your time, letting the moment stretch, the room filling with soft breaths and the quiet rustle of fabric. Every movement is deliberate, every touch mindful of the vulnerability hanging in the air.
Your hands move to her good shoulder, slipping under the strap of her tank top. The fabric slides away easily, baring more of her to your gaze. She doesn’t flinch, her smirk fading into something softer, more open.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them.
Rio lets out a soft laugh, the sound shaky but genuine. “Flattery? You should’ve tried that six months ago.”
You grin, leaning in to kiss the edge of her smirk, letting your lips linger on her skin. “Shut up, Rio,” you whisper, your voice tinged with affection.
Her hand finds your waist, tugging you closer with surprising strength for someone who’d been shot hours ago. You go willingly, straddling her carefully as your lips reconnect, the kiss growing deeper. Heat coils in your chest, spreading outward as her touch becomes bolder, her fingers sliding under your shirt.
You break the kiss only long enough to pull your top over your head, tossing it aside before leaning back in. Her lips move to your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone, each one sending sparks through you. You gasp softly when her teeth graze your skin, her smirk returning against your neck.
“You like that?” She teases, her voice low and rough.
“Maybe,” you reply, breathless but playful. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Her answer is wordless, her good hand slipping down your back, finding every sensitive spot with ease. You shiver under her touch, your own hands exploring her, mapping the curve of her waist and the muscles of her back.
You’re careful not to put pressure on her injured shoulder, but Rio doesn’t seem to care about her pain. She pulls you closer, her body warm against yours, her breaths coming faster now.
You press your forehead to hers, your hands cupping her face. “Tell me if it’s too much,” you whisper, your voice thick with concern.
She shakes her head, her eyes blazing with determination. “The only thing too much is how long it took us to get here.”
Her words undo you, and you close the distance again, your kisses turning hungrier. You guide her gently back onto the bed, her good arm still wrapped around you as you settle over her. You continue your path down Rio’s body, lips pressing softly against every inch of skin you uncover. Your hands trail after your mouth, fingers tracing the delicate curve of her waist and the softness of her hips. Her body reacts to your touch, each shiver and soft gasp urging you on, drawing you deeper into the moment.
When your lips reach the hollow of her stomach, you pause, your hands resting on either side of her hips. You glance up at her, catching the way her chest rises and falls in anticipation, her hand gripping the sheets beneath her. The sight of her laid bare before you, trusting and vulnerable, sends a wave of warmth coursing through you. You press a kiss to her skin, just below her ribs, before continuing lower.
Your hands move carefully, sliding down her thighs, coaxing them apart with a gentle nudge. She complies without hesitation, her breath catching as you trail soft kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. You take your time, teasing, your mouth lingering just long enough to leave her trembling, her good hand reaching down to tangle in your hair.
“Please,” she murmurs, her voice breathy and full of need, and it’s all the encouragement you need.
You shift lower, your hands resting lightly on her thighs, holding her steady as your lips finally find her. The first touch is tentative and exploratory, but the way her body responds—back arching, a soft moan slipping from her lips—spurs you on. Your tongue moves slowly at first, drawing circles, learning what makes her gasp and writhe beneath you. You use your fingers to spread her gently, your movements precise and deliberate, ensuring every sensation is heightened.
Her reactions guide you, every sigh and breathless plea telling you exactly what she needs. When you slip a finger inside her, she tenses for a moment before relaxing, her body welcoming your touch. You match the rhythm of your hand to the movements of your tongue, building a steady pace that has her gripping the sheets tightly, her head tipping back as her moans grow louder.
Her body begins to tremble, her breathing ragged as she nears the edge. You don’t falter, your movements becoming more focused, more insistent, until she finally cries out, her body arching sharply as she shatters beneath you. You hold her through it, your hands steady on her thighs, your mouth gentle as you help her ride out the waves of her climax.
When she finally comes down, her body relaxes, her limbs heavy as she lies back against the bed, chest heaving. You crawl back up to her, pressing soft kisses along her stomach, her collarbone, and finally her lips. She kisses you back with a lazy, satisfied fervour, her hand cupping your cheek as if to keep you close.
You rest beside her, your fingers resting gently on her chest. The silence between you feels easy now, filled with something unspoken but understood. Rio tilts her head to meet your eyes; her smirk softened into something sincere.
“Didn’t know you had that in you,” she teases, her voice quiet but laced with affection.
You smirk back, brushing a stray hair from her face. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Guess I’ll have to stick around to find out.”
Her words linger in the air, heavy with promise, and for once, you don’t feel the need to deflect. You lean in, pressing a final kiss to her forehead as her eyes drift closed, exhaustion finally claiming her.
You wake to the faint light of dawn filtering through the curtains. Rio is still beside you, her face softened in sleep, her chest rising and falling steadily. You watch her for a moment, a quiet smile tugging at your lips before you carefully slip out of bed, pulling the blanket up over her.
The cabin’s kitchen is small, almost comically so, but you’re determined to make breakfast. You rummage through the limited supplies, finding eggs and a questionable loaf of bread. Cracking the eggs into a pan, you curse softly when some of the shell slips in. The stove sputters, and the toast burns on one side before you can flip it.
“Do you always declare war on breakfast?” Rio’s voice startles you, and you whip around to see her leaning against the doorframe, her arm still in its sling.
“Hey! You’re supposed to be resting,” you scold, pointing the spatula at her.
She raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk. “I’d rather take my chances with gunfire than whatever you’re cooking.”
You roll your eyes, turning back to the stove. “I’m making you breakfast, so sit down and let me work my magic.”
Rio pads over to the table, still smirking. “If this kills me, make sure they write ‘death by toast’ on my gravestone.”
“Har, har,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. As you set the slightly overcooked meal in front of her, she looks up at you with an amused glint in her eyes.
“You’re really taking this whole ‘overprotective partner’ thing seriously, huh?” She teases, though her voice softens as she adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”
You sit across from her, leaning your chin on your hand. “Someone has to look out for you. You’re not exactly great at self-preservation.”
Rio smiles, a genuine warmth in her gaze that makes your chest ache. “I don’t mind it. Feels… nice. Safe.” Her fingers brush yours on the table, a small but deliberate gesture. “Guess I’m sticking around for more than just the breakfast disasters.”
Your laugh is soft, but your voice carries a tenderness you rarely let slip. “I’ll try not to burn the toast next time.”
“Don’t change too much,” Rio says, her smirk returning as she takes a bite of the slightly charred toast. “I kind of like you the way you are.”
Her words settle between you, light and teasing but laced with a sincerity that fills the room with warmth. For the first time, the future doesn’t feel like something to fear—it feels like something you might actually look forward to.
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magicpiano · 3 months ago
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I think the comedy of Red Hood and Matches Malone both being known criminals is underutilized. I need fics where they are both working a job "together" but both are perfectly aware they are actually on different sides. They can't say that in front of the other goons without compromising each other's identity though.
So like they are both part of the same heist team. Jason has to figure out if Bruce is here to sabotage the mission or is just intel gathering. (It is actually a secret third thing: father son bonding.)
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fanaticsnail · 3 months ago
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Gloves: Sabo
Birthday Celebration Masterllst
Word Count: 3,200+
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Themes: Sabo x f!reader, gendered terms used, glove play, roleplay, workplace rivals, oral, creampie, mdni, smut, 18+, NSFW, porn with plot, minor degradation, angst, fluff, Sabo is unhinged, kinks.
Notes: This fic was inspired for @writingmysanity's birthday earlier in the month. Happy birthday, you absolute beautiful person. Lots of imput by @frillsinadress who loves her Sabo a little more unhinged and aided in the plot. Thank you for celebrating with me, and lots of love to the both of you.
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Lock latching within the wooden door behind him, Sabo closed his eyes and clenched his jaw tightly shut. Immediately, his forehead found the cool surface and he gently butt his face against the door in a bid to reprimand himself before you had the chance to do so. 
Taking in your surroundings, you were in a similar state of displeasure. Inhaling deeply through your nose, and exhaling out your fury through your mouth, you were simply too mad to articulate your true feelings. 
Sabo had one task to handle. 
This mission served together with the revolutionary army was simple enough, and you had prepared for it remarkably well. Infiltrate the marine gala, Sabo dressed in service attire and masquerading as your footman and valet, you in an elaborate gown imitating a nepotism invitation by association, gather the intel by distracting the guests while Sabo rummaged through the desks, retrieve the desired information, and leave without a scratch. 
The only hindrance that occurred was truly the fact that you and Sabo, the flame emperor himself, did not get along. Despite working together for years, you and the blonde man could barely stand being in the same room together, let alone share the single bed in the middle of the room. 
Sabo was in charge of ensuring adequate accommodation to house you once you returned from your mission before you made it back to home base. Twin rooms, a room with a divider in the center, two different inns, anything would've been better than the single room with a small, double bed at the center. 
On the mission itself, he was to behave as your servant and wait on your every whim, just as his role indicated. He was your handler, and you were to be his bratty and snooty boss. These roles were played into with absolute perfection, just as you planned. Sabo was able to keep up with you, and you pushed him to the absolute brink of insanity. 
Driving him mad came easy to you, so he learned. Having no choice but to respond with ‘yes, my lady,’ or ‘as you wish, my lady’ in this public setting with his head bowed low made his skin crawl with displeasure. Having you be in charge, not being able to speak up when another man laid his hands on you while asking you to dance, watching the way they undressed you with their eyes and fucked you in their minds was repulsive in his opinion. Not you, yourself, but those who intended to lay claim on you. 
Marines. Marines laying their hands on you. You, a revolutionary. You, the bane of his existence. You, the night mistress that called to him in his dreams and mocked him with your body performing for him as a marionette beneath his ventriloquism. As he made you cry for him in ecstasy in his dreams of late, always waking with a sticky reminder of his budding infatuation for the thorn in his side seemed to make him all the more pent up in rage.
“Wonderful, Sabo!” Your voice echoed within the singular room, sarcasm dripping from every word as you snarl at him, “This is just perfect. Can't you do anything right? Just a single thing for you to handle, and you can’t even do that.” 
“Watch it,” he growled back at you, continuing to hold his head against the wood, “Be grateful we have a room at all. This was the last on the Den-Den list available.” He was so pent up with rage at being your little ‘errand-boy’ for the night that he so desperately wanted to teach you a lesson in humility. 
“Be grateful? Be grateful?” you mock him, beginning to remove your great outer skirt and throw it to the ground, changing out of your costume and leaving you in your frilled under-draws, bodice and jewelry. “It's only the last room because you left it so late. If you just listened to me when we first got this mission from Dragon, we wouldn't be in this situation.”
“Listen to you?” Sabo quirked, his jaw switching and a sinister smirk up-ticking at the corners. Turning in place, he faced you and bore his piercing blue eyes into your skull, “Listen to you?”
“You never listen to me-,” you began, halting as Sabo took a calculated step forward. His gloved hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, still in the uniform from the earlier assignment. 
“-I have done nothing but listen to you for the entire night,” Sabo laughed humorlessly, drawing up a gloved hand to card through his sunshine locks, “I have waited on you hand and foot, I have followed one step behind you and behaved like a leashed pup. I have fed you food, I have poured your drinks, I have danced with you, I have-.”
“-Done the job I planned for you to do so, yes,” you spat in response, stepping closer to him and gnashing your teeth in a sarcastic smile, “The only time you ever take my needs into consideration is when it’s all an act for you, Sabo. I pity the partner you find yourself coupling with.” This did not halt you in your removal of jewelry adorning your neck, now flung carelessly to the vanity with your shoes kicked off beneath the bed. 
Sabo’s eyes grew wider, his lip curling up in displeasure at your display. 
“You should watch your tone with me, brat,” he snapped, stepping closer still and brushing his booted toes against your own clad in thigh-high stockings beneath your frills. 
“Or what, asshole?” you quip in return, tilting your head and mirroring his expression. Standing on your toes, your noses almost brushed with the proximity your flared tempers drew you to. 
Never one to shy away from a challenge, Sabo’s right hand flung to your hip and clenched firmly against the bone, the other flying up to cup your cheek and tilted his head down between you. His lips almost descended on your own, and your very breath was stolen from you. Anger immediately subseased, and in its wake swelled a banner of anxiousness at his motions. 
Just before your lips touched, he clenched his jaw and growled into your surprised features. 
“Just take the damn bed,” Sabo uttered darkly, his eyes puncturing you with their rage, “I'd rather sleep outside on the gravel floor than hear you whine about it any longer.”
His hands released from your features, hanging limply at his sides while you remained stunned at the rush of blood flooding your chest and expanding your heart. Sabo clicked his tongue down at you, turning on his heel and began to briskly walk to the door while releasing a shuddered breath. 
Your body moved almost against your will, immediately pulled magnetically behind him by the emotional display in proximity. Before he could unlatch the door from the hinges, your hand found his gloved fingers and tugged him back to face you. 
“Want me to stop whining about the room so bad,” you taunted him, darting your eyes between his with a challenge twinkling behind your anger, “Make me.”
“I'm done taking orders from you,” he shook his head, snatching his hand away from yours and drawing once again to the door. 
Although his hand was on the lock, his mind screaming at his fingers to turn the knob and leave, and not give in to your taunt, the call to put you in your place and bend you to his will was far too tempting to ignore. For what felt like an eternity, Sabo stationary at the door while you remained firmly in place in the middle of the room, he made his snap decision. 
“Screw this,” he whispered exasperatedly, turning to face you and hastily closing the distance between you. 
His hands flung up to your cheeks, lips colliding in a messy oscillation of teeth and tongue while he ravished your mouth with his own. He made his pact internally, crafting a covenant the moment his lips clashed with yours: you will learn your lesson, and your pleasure will be your teacher invoked by his hands. 
Hardly waiting for you to react or understand what was occuring, Sabo's gloved hands immediately found their way beneath the waistband of your frilly, knee-length under-draws. His shrouded fingers carded through your folds, the material adding friction to your quivering clit and causing you to whine into his lips. 
Pulling away both his hands and his lips from you entirely, he raised his index and middle finger to your gaze and demonstrated the amount of slick you had already coated him with. Rolling your arousal through his hands, he chuckled down at you while you panted for him in need. 
“Tsk, tsk, made my gloves all messy,” he reprimanded you with a click in his tongue. “Clean them.” 
As you parted your lips in shock at his statement, he immediately thrust his covered fingers into your lips and pushed down on your tongue. You tasted your honeyed essence on his material, the lewd act only causing more slick to pool in your panties beneath your under-drawers. 
Sabo took his unoccupied hand and undid the waist ribbon, watching as the frills pooled at your feet. His blue eyes eclipsed with black at the sight of the girdle and thigh clips suspending your thigh-high stockings. As he languidly fucked your mouth with his fingers, his other hand flicked one of the elastic suspenders holding up the sheer stockings. 
“This was under there the whole time?” he scoffed, gripping a fistful of your thigh, “All those frigid fucking layers, and this what was lurking beneath? Fuck.” 
He removed his hand from your lips, the material from his gloves leaving a coarse and furry feeling on your palate as he retracted them. Before you had a chance to answer him regarding your attire, Sabo dropped to his knees and threw your legs over his shoulders, and rose back up to full height. 
Slamming your back into the wooden door, he mouthed at your soaked panties, drawing lazy circles against your clothed clit before dipping down to your shrouded entrance. His motions caused your breath to hitch and your hands to fly down to cling onto his golden locks. 
“Sabo-!” You choked out your whimpers, truly not understanding how you had only just verbally lashing at one another to now having Sabo ushering you close to climax by burying his scarred face into your core. 
“Quiet,” he muffled his orders, moving his hand up to wedge your soaked panties between your folds while covering your clit with his parted lips. 
The amount of friction pulling at your body was too much: the heat from his breath, the feel of his gloved fingers now traveling up to your slit and coaxing out more of your creamy slick to dampen the material with its viscosity, and the way his tongue abused your clit had you close to the edge. Tempers flaring moments prior, your belly squeezed in tight knots before you abruptly released over his tongue. 
Your cunt contracted around the material, his fingers feeling the rhythmic thumps of your pussy riding through a hasty high brought on by his hands. He couldn't help but chuckle into your core, feeling the way your slick managed to seep through your lingerie and dampen his gloves with it once more.
“Already?” Sabo teased you, urging you with his arms to slump against his head while he shepherded you towards the double bed in the center of the room. Throwing you down onto the bed, you bounced once atop the springs while he threw his jacket and shirt from his shoulders. 
“Sabo, I-,” you attempted, your body still reeling from the pleasure he quickly drew from your body. 
“-I said ‘quiet’, didn’t I?” he reprimanded you, removing his belt and beginning to unbutton his pants. Your eyes greedily drank him in, noticing the large amount of scarring that marred his skin with the similar marks donning his right hand side. Removing his hat, he was left in naught but those two gloves he had been enjoying torturing you with. 
You didn’t say a word while you gazed up at him with uncertainty in your eyes. Never once picturing this moment between you both, your lip quivered in anticipation for his next actions. Immediately, his unhinged expression dropped to match your own, cocking his head to the side while examining you. 
“I’m only going to ask you this once,” he offered you, peering down his nose at you while you peered up at him in awe, “Do you want this. A simple ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ will do.” 
Ignoring the prior rage you felt after the mission with your workplace rival, the way your pussy clenched while he took charge spurred you on to answer with a single word. 
“Yes.”
Sabo smirked before slotting himself between your legs, tugging at your panties still partially wedged in your labia as he did so. Leaning down, he took your bottom lip within his clenched teeth and pulled on the plush flesh. 
“I think,” he uttered against your lips, releasing it with a smack of his mouth against yours, “I am,” he hastily scooped his arms beneath your shoulders and flung you face-down against the mattress, “Going to,” he pressed down on the mid of your back, arching your ass up while pawing his gloved hands at your panties and hooking them to the side, “Keep your panties on while I ruin you. They’re too fucking good to take off.”
You whelped while he tugged your panties to the side, immediately lining his cockhead up with your glistening slit. Carding the tip through your folds, he let out a shaken shudder while he enjoyed the feeling of your slick coating his cock. 
Although truly desiring to take his time with you, as soon as he heard your shuddered whimper, a switch clicked in his mind and propelled him onward. Bottoming out immediately, he started a brutal pace of slapping his hips against yours and bucking wildly into you. There was no more time for teasing, no more time for subtlety, no more time for drawing out your bliss with languid thrusts to burn his name onto your tongue. 
It was all raw emotion driving him. Your mewls and cries for him was gasoline to the flames of his desires, propelling him to spur on with each cruel piston within you. You could barely get a word out to tell him to slow down, immediately too drunk on the feeling of his mushroomed tip kissing your g spot and bruising your cervix. 
Sabo slot his four fingers beneath the ass of your panties and rolled them in his grip using them as reins to control your motions while his thumb brushed with your puckered hole. You immediately tensed up as he began tapping on your unexplored entrance while brutally stapling you against the mattress. He chuckled darkly, noting he may want to explore a little bit more of ass play another time with you, but for now, he was so lost in the way your pussy fluttered around him with every in-thrust that he physically could no longer hold himself back. 
“Oh, fuck,” he barked out, a small whine picking up in the back of his throat as he continued railing his cock into your core, “So fucking good. Why the fuck haven’t we done this earlier?”
“Be- hnnnghm-... Because I hate you, and you hate me,” you retort in response. He chuckled into your neck, surging forward and placing a harsh nip to your neck from behind you. You cried out in response, 
“I don’t hate you,” he uttered, reaching forward and cupping your chin to mute your cries of bliss by slotting his unoccupied middle and unity finger into your mouth, “I fucking admire you.” He forced you to suck on his fingers while forcing your body to respond to his harsh momentum with every crude slap and gyration.  
You could barely respond to his confession, your body spasming while your cunt began contracting around his shaft. You knew you were close, and you could feel how close the man behind you was by the harsh pummeling of his hips on yours. Sabo’s own mewls of bliss began becoming higher in intensity.
No cohesive words fled from his lips while the primal urge took over. Focussing solely on your joint needs, he held you down while he forced pleasure upon your body. His abdomen coiled and tightened within his stomach, his balls slinking into his guts while he felt the imminent release begin to spurt from his slit. 
“I-I-I’m cumming-!” he whined in your ear, forcing your body down on the mattress while he continued huffing and panting. The viscous splashback of his cum painted your walls with passion as he moaned through his high. Gripping at your spine and arching your back further, he held you in place while you felt your coil shatter and join him in oblivion.
Walls begin to milk him on his release by pistoning him with rhythmic contractions, your muffled scream of his name was muted by his gloved fingers while you felt your high crest in your chest.Your pussy drank in his orgasm while forcing your own upon you. Lightning fizzed at the corners of your eyes while your high was married to the mans’ behind you.
Slumping down onto your shoulder, his lips moved lazily against your skin, mirroring the motions he made in his dreams while thrusting lazily into your pussy. He withdrew his fingers from your mouth while turning your chin to meet his face. Meeting briefly with your eyes, he hastily drew his lips upon yours while muffling his groans into your mouth with every spurt of his release fleeing from his slit.
Hearts beating as one, he buried himself one final time to the hilt while his lips joined with yours. You had little choice but to take the passion he crafted against your features. Closing your eyes and puckering your lips, you merged your soul with his while he continued to passionately forge his body against yours. 
After taking a moment, both of you gulping back your exertion while recovering from your highs, Sabo met his expression with your own and sheepishly chuckled openly.
“Hi,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss once more to your lips while you caught your breath. 
“Hi,” you expressed in return, feeling exceptionally full by his cock within your pussy after expelling his sticky release deep within your walls. 
Sabo chuckled, pressing his lips to your temple while retracting his cock from your pussy. Rolling gently away from your body, he took in your form and basked in the afterglow forged by his hands. You reached forward, cupping his scarred cheek and caressed it with your thumb while you came to. 
“Share the stupid bed with me,” you commanded, stated more like a request than an explicit order. “I'd hate it if you slept outside on the cool cobblestone without me. My final order for the night, valtet.” 
Sabo chuckled, nestling in close to you while brushing his nose with yours. Although the time for roleplaying amongst the marines and upperclassmen was complete, he could barely control himself as he uttered four words to coincide with your orders. 
“Of course, my lady.” 
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel
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🎶Happy Birthday to Me🎶
If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.
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fefern · 8 months ago
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Hello!! I'm in love with your Wuwa hcs and writing in general and I'd love to put in a request, if you're still open for them :0 <3
I'd like to request some fluffy hcs for Jiyan with an s/o that's part dragon, has horns and tail and maybe some scales like Mortefi(forgot if you spell his name like that I'm sorry😭 the red scientist guy). The s/o is super protective of him but also aloof in public, super cuddly in private when the time is right, brings him rocks and flowers as gifts and all that cute stuff, basically courting him by "dragon standards" hajsjdjd
Thank you for your time!<3
✧˖° his reaction to a dragon hybrid lover. | jiyan headcanons.
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⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: look in the sky! it's a bird, it's a plane, it's a... dragon hybrid reader? just how will jiyan react to being courted by you, and how does he love you as someone who's part dragon?
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved: jiyan and gender neutral reader.
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!
⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello hello hello! i hope you are doing well lovely anon!! thank you for sending in an ask, and i hope this fufils what you were looking for ;;!! sending lots of love, and as always, requests are open! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
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ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅ jiyan ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
your tail would be so so pretty, decorated with scales that had colors that mimic the colors of the clouds and skies. 
your horns would be cute on the top of your head, a bit pointy and glowing in the night. 
jiyan has come to adore your dragon features, finding them both unique and absolutely beautiful. he’s caught often staring at the way your scales on your face, neck, and tail all catch the sunlight just right to create a glimmer like nothing he’s ever seen before. 
he’s quiet in the way he admires you, gently curling a piece of your hair behind your pointy little ears and smiling whenever you look over at him when he does. 
he didn’t have time to confess to you about his feelings though, he was caught up with being a general and of course, he also had to consider the fact that he didn’t really know if you would reciprocate them back. 
would you prefer mating with another dragon hybrid yourself? is that how these things work?
after a few months of being around you though, he began to notice some… strange things. 
for example, whenever you two were walking around the city, you’d always be on the defensive, not letting anyone get too close, not even the chef when you’d go get lunch together. 
then, sometimes, when he comes back from long patrols, you overload him with rocks and flowers that you’ve gathered for him, and he always says thank you, even though it’s a bit difficult to bring back to his home.
(he keeps them in his room forever to admire when you’re not around.)
also, lately, you’ve been much more affectionate with him, rubbing your cheek against his and getting very touchy as well, always wanting to be close to him physically. 
he expresses his confusion about your behavior to one of the researchers when he stops by one day to gather some intel for a mission for his rangers. 
one of the researchers directs him to a shelf that discusses about dragon hybrids, and the man spends almost the entirety of one day learning more about you and your species. 
the way he feels his cheeks flush a soft pink when he realizes just what it means for you to have been doing all these actions. he feels like he had a revelation, but at the same time feels stupid and dense. 
he’s quick to come back to you one day with flowers and your favorite food in hand, giving them to you and confessing his love for you on top of a quiet hill with a beautiful view of the starry night sky. 
“my pretty dragon, you’re prettier than anyone in all of huanglong, and i have loved you for quite some time. will you do me the honors and be mine?”
when you say yes, he feels overjoyed and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug as he’s careful not to hit your horns or tail while doing so.
after the successful confession, a few things change. 
for one, when you begin sleeping over more at his place, he begins to gift you dozens of fluffy blankets and pillows. he organizes them in a nest-like position for you to cuddle up in, and finds it adorable when he comes back to the sight of you curled up in the fluffiness. 
jiyan will cuddle with you more often now, guiding your tail to wrap around his strong muscles so that you get your fix of touching as much of his skin as possible. jiyan likes to run his hands over the smooth scales to coax you to sleep.
he enjoys pecking soft kisses on the scales of your face and neck; it’s his little reminder to you to not be insecure about something so beautiful. 
overall, you’re jiyan’s most beloved treasure. he will do anything to make sure his little dragon is safe and loved.
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reginaphalange2403 · 1 year ago
Text
Never Again
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Despite an intense dislike for one another, you and Bucky begrudgingly get paired together for a mission. You’re forced to look past your differences when things so south.
Warnings: Canon level violence, asshole Bucky (at first), enemies to lovers vibes, other mcu characters make appearances. Word count: 6.1k
a/n: AHHHH my first fic in like 6 months! this is also the first time I've ever written for Bucky or written anything like this. It was a lot of fun and I hope I did him justice lol. Enjoy!
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The loud hissing of the Keurig was a rude awakening to your 7am start to the day. Unfortunately, Steve had decided to hold a team conference meeting at 8. Why he chose to annoy you all like this, you weren’t sure. 
“Are you fucking done yet?” You instantly recognized the deep, rough voice muttering under his breath behind you. Bucky had his arms folded and was impatiently waiting for you to finish up at the machine so he could make his own cup.
“Already have a stick up your ass today, huh Barnes?” You spit back at him before moving to let him use the Keurig.
“Well, I wouldn’t have one if you weren’t the first thing I saw when I came down the stairs.” 
Damn. That stung. “Have you ever been nice for once in your life? Or is being a dick just a permanent part of your personality?” 
At your words, Bucky looked up at you and feigned offense “Oh, I’m nice” He assured you in an almost sweet tone, before turning cold again “…to people that deserve it.”
You rolled your eyes at him, muttering a ‘whatever’, and left the kitchen to go take a seat in the conference room. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an atypical conversation for you to have with Bucky. Ever since you had joined the team almost a year ago - at Natasha Romanoff’s request - Bucky had been anything but welcoming. At first, you thought it was just friendly banter, him trying to sarcastically intimidate you, but it was clear by now that he genuinely had a deep distaste for you. 
Soon enough, everyone else started to file in for the meeting. Nat smiled as she took the seat next to you, her regular spot, and quietly started asking you about your morning. Bucky was the last one to enter the room, and by that point the only seat left was the one on your other side. 
He glared at you as he sat down. 
“It’s not my fault you’re always late to these things” You quipped under your breath.
“Don’t push it, sweetheart” Bucky frustratingly muttered, and you quickly opened your mouth to reply before Natasha interrupted,
“Don’t bother with him, Y/N. He’s always a grump in the mornings” 
‘No, he’s always a grump to me’ you thought to yourself, but kept your mouth shut. 
“Good Morning, everyone” Steve finally got started with the meeting, a cheery grin on his face that was all too happy for 8am, in your opinion.
“As you all know, for months now we’ve been trying to track down where exactly Ian Haverford and his men have been setting up camp and operating their illegal activities” Most recently, the team had been working on taking down a group of rouge scientists. They had somehow been creating and using a serum that was similar to the super soldier serum. A antidote that made them have increased strength, speed and agility. They then used their new enhancements to rob and kill storeowners, evade the police, and then subsequently sell the drugs and weapons that they had stolen. 
“We’ve finally located their compound, up in rural Virginia, we-“
“What he meant to say was I located their compound in Virginia” Tony cheekily butt in. 
Steve sighed, having to stop his own eye roll, “Fine, yes, Tony located the compound. Anyway, as I was saying…We believe that that’s where they’re making the serum. The sooner we go in, the less time they have to continue using the serum and giving it to more people. Now, I didn’t necessarily think this was a task we all needed to partake in. It really only requires two people to take down Haverford and gather intel on what chemicals they’ve been using”
Steve took a big breath before revealing who he had assigned to the mission, knowing he’d have hell to pay, “Y/N and Bucky will be heading to Virginia tomorrow morning-“
“Are you serious Rogers?!” You immediately confronted Steve’s decision as you heard Bucky next you,
“You’ve got to be kidding me” He mumbled, clearly as annoyed as you were.
Steve put his hands up defensively, “I know the two of you don’t always get along, but I was hoping this assignment would allow you to work together and actually have to interact beyond your bickering” 
You had never been on a mission with just Bucky before. Of course, the two of you had been on missions with the rest of the avengers together, but never just the two of you. 
Steve continued, “Besides, we need someone who’s a super soldier to infiltrate the compound. Bucky has the strength and speed to match that of Haverford’s people. And Y/N, you also have enhancements, it makes sense to send the both of you in together.” He concluded by basically saying his decision was final, and that you and Buck would be leaving on a quinjet first thing tomorrow.
During your years in the red room, you had been injected with various substances and drugs that over time had enhanced your agility, flexibility, reflexes and even your sight. But you didn’t see how that made you a necessary aspect to this assignment. You were sure Steve was just using that as an excuse, he really just wanted you to get along better with Bucky. 
Speaking of which, Buck stood up from his chair as you looked over at him, he glowered at you for a moment before scoffing, “Guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it” and with that he left the room. 
You stayed, waiting for everyone else to file out so that you could speak with Steve privately. Natasha gave you a sympathetic look and squeezed your shoulder, as she was the last one to head out after talking to Steve for a while herself. You were always sort of jealous of their friendship. Of course, you had Nat. Who was your closest confidant in the group. But you also wanted to be close with the guys as well. You supposed Steve was your friend, but sometimes it felt like he looked at you as more of a younger sister. 
Finally, it was just you and Steve alone in the room and you were still sitting in your same seat, Steve standing at the head of the table. He tilted his head towards you and quirked his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something. 
“Why does he hate me?” You asked quietly. You had always wanted to go to Steve for advice on how to handle Bucky, but never wished to cause a rift in their friendship or make Steve feel like he was put in the middle of something.
His eyes went soft and he sighed, “Oh Y/N” He began gently “I know it may come off that way, but Buck doesn’t hate you. He just…” Steve looked to find the right words, ���has a hard time handling his emotions and how he feels about people… especially people that bring up past trauma for him” 
Steve’s little hint helped you clue in to what he was trying to imply. You knew that Bucky had a history with the red room, long before you ever did, but you never really knew the details of it or how he was involved. You were saved from Dreykov almost a year ago when Natasha returned to destroy him. You were one of Yelena’s closest friends and she had introduced you to Nat, who then saw how skilled you were and decided to invite you to join the avengers, since you really had no other home to go to. Yelena meanwhile, had wanted to enjoy her freedom a little more and chose to see the world a bit before deciding to join any sort of vigilante team. Though Natasha always held out hope that she would finally join one day when she felt ready. 
“But Nat’s from the red room too!” You defended yourself, “And Bucky treats her perfectly fine! It’s not my fault that my past is what it is. I can’t help the fact that I was raised there, why does he have to hold that against me?” You started to get emotional and Steve could tell, so he began to try and explain his friends behavior.
“Well, he’s gotten to know Natasha for a few years now, so I think they’re on better terms. Plus he kinda owes her one for how she saved both our asses during the whole…sokovia accords thing” Steve said the last part quietly while sort of shamefully looking down. Despite the fact that it was worked out now, that whole incident with him, Tony and Bucky still deeply bothered Steve to even bring up.
He continued after a moment, “He doesn’t hold it against you Y/N, it’s not your fault. He just doesn’t like the memories you bring up for him, the things you remind him of. And he doesn’t know how to properly process and work through them, so instead he just takes out that pent up anger and self hatred on you. It’s not fair to you, but it’s also not your fault.”
“Get him to see a therapist then” you muttered.
Steve scoffed, “Believe me, I’ve tried.” 
He then walked around the length of the table to where you were sitting and gave you a pleading look, “Just give him a chance. Hopefully this mission will be the thing that finally gets him to see you in a different light. I know it’s hard to believe, but he really does have a sweet, soft side under all that brooding, if you dig deep enough” And that was what Steve left you with as he walked out, leaving you alone to mull over what he had said. 
———————
For the rest of that day, you and Bucky both avoided each other. You spent most of the afternoon locked up in your room or in the gym, perfecting a few moves with Nat’s help in preparation for your assignment. You didn’t see Bucky all day, you assumed he also was doing his best to not run into you.
Now, you were seated across from him on the quinjet, an awkward silence taking up the majority of the ride to a rural part of Virginia. He barely even looked at you for the entire 2 hour flight. Mostly staring down at his hands with airpods in, or having his head tilted back and eyes closed. As you neared the end of your trip, jet about to touch down, you noticed Bucky finally didn’t have headphones in, so you decided it would be a good time to set some things straight before you literally went into battle with him.
Cautiously, you spoke up, “Look, I know we don’t necessarily see eye to eye but we really need to-“
He cut you off sharply “Once we touch down I’ll take the northeast side of the compound and you can take the south side. They apparently keep their lab in a big room on the south side, so you head that way and ransack the lab while I take down Haverford, who’s quarters are up in the north end. Got it?” Not even listening to what you had tried to say, Bucky simply started barking out a game plan at you.
“Sure, but I was saying that we-“
Bucky sighed dramatically, “Look Y/N, we just need to do our damn jobs and get this over with. Alright?”
“But Steve said-“
“I don’t care what Steve said.” He snapped, “I’m not here to make nice.”
And with that, you sat in silence again for the last few minutes of the flight. The quinjet landed in an open forrest area, roughly a 10 minute walk away from where Haverford’s compound was supposed to be. Of course, you couldn’t land right next to it without risking them hearing and giving yourselves away. So, you and Bucky began the short trek to the complex, once again in complete silence the whole way there. 
Finally, you arrived upon a large monster of a building. It took up almost the entirety of the empty field that it occupied, with no windows around it whatsoever. To anyone else, it looked like from the outside to be just an eery abandoned building. You and Buck snuck around to the backside where a hatch door was used to get into the lower level of the building. 
“When we’re done,” Bucky finally spoke for the first time in over 15 minutes “How about we meet up back here at this door, so that we can leave asap and not waste time trying to find each other in this fucking maze. Good?”
You swallowed, remembering the “plan” Bucky had laid out earlier on the jet. You really didn’t feel right about splitting up with him. The compound was massive and neither of you had ever navigated it before. Sure, Steve had shown you a basic floor plan of it and talked about where he believed they were making the serum, but that was it. You didn’t know your way around this territory, and you didn’t know what Haverford’s men were like.  And on this mission, it was just you and Buck. You didn’t have the other avengers around to look out for you, or be your eyes and ears over the comms. 
“Bucky, I don’t know if we should separate. This place is big.” You finally admitted.
“It’s nothing you can’t handle” He grumbled out, which should have sounded like a compliment but came out as more of something to shut you up and get on with it.
“But what if one of us gets injured or can’t find our way back to the door?” You asked, embarrassed to be admitting your nerves to him. Bucky could see for a moment that you were genuinely anxious about this.
“We have the comms in our ears,” He began in a slightly softer tone than he had ever spoken to you before, “If you need help, just talk to me. I’ll be in your ear the whole time” 
You nodded, still a little worried but trying not to show it.
“Splitting up is the fastest way to do this. And the faster we get this done, the less time we have to spend together.” Ah, there was the Bucky you knew. Back to making jabs at you. That was the last you spoke before he broke the door open and you were in.
—————————
As discreetly as possible, you made your way through the compound, quietly trying to get to the south wing without being heard or seen. Steve said that they most likely were keeping their lab in the largest room in the building, which supposedly should be through the last door on the south side. As long as you could find it, get the records and evidence that you needed, and get back to the exit in time to meet Bucky, you’d be fine. 
You could hear Bucky through the comms, sounds of grunting and punching obviously coming from him fighting Ian Haverford’s men that he had come into contact with. 
“Looking for something princess?” You immediately stopped in your tracks at the sound of a deep sinister voice snarling at you. Whipping around, you saw one of Ian’s goonies standing just a few feet from you. 
Instantly he charged at you, but it was nothing you hadn’t ever dealt with. Before he could grab you, you took hold of his arm and twisted it behind his back, affectively turning his entire body away from you. Then, using the Widow’s Bite armor that were around your wrists, you tased him in the neck, causing him to fall completely unconscious.
It was then that you realized you had made it to the end of the hallway, and thus the last door which was supposed to be their lab. Prepared for men to potentially be in there, you unholstered one of your firearms, and promptly kicked down the door.
To your shock, the room had no occupants. You quickly reached over to find a light switch, and what you saw next was infuriating. It indeed was Ian Haverford’s lab. Full of tables and stations that held different mixed drugs and chemicals that he was using to create his own super soldier serum, one that he then used on himself and his accomplices. You also saw a station that was entirely made up of a large desktop connected to multiple computers. 
You started to make your way towards the computers so that you could plug in your hard-drive and collect the data that would supply the team with how Haverford had been making the serums. But before you could get there, a white, powdery substance started to sprits down from what looked like emergency sprinklers that were on the ceiling. The substance reeked like chemicals, similar to that of bleach but not as strong. You began to cough a little, trying to wipe the shit out of your face and eyes. You had no idea what the fuck it was or what it might possibly do to you. 
“Bucky” you half coughed half called his name into the comms, “Bucky something happened”
“What?” He grunted out, clearly still in the middle of fighting someone.
“I just got sprayed with some kind of white powder stuff. I don’t know what it was. It must have been part of some kind of booby-trap that they had on the lab, since I kicked their door in, it went off.”
“Are you okay?” Bucky immediately asked, seeming genuinely worried. 
“Yeah I mean, nothings happened yet, I’m still fine. But-“
“I’m a little busy Y/N, if you’re fine for now, just get the data from the lab and head out fast. I don’t have time to keep talking” he quickly rattled off to you, and you heard a loud scream coming from a guy that Bucky obviously just injured. 
You swallowed, still very nervous about whatever the hell just happened to you, but you didn’t want to distract Bucky any further and potentially get him hurt, “Alright. On it.” 
Plugging the hard-drive into the main desktop, you waited patiently as thousands of files started to download from Haverford’s database. As you stood there and waited, an annoying, high pitched ringing began to go off in your ears. At the same time, your vision slowly started to blur slightly, as if you were wearing the wrong prescription glasses. A lump formed in your throat and your heart practically dropped into your stomach, you hated to admit it, but this was deeply scaring you. You’d never been poisoned before. 
You rubbed your eyes, hoping maybe it would help, but nothing happened, the blurriness just got worse. On top of that, your head started to pound, most likely due to the loud obnoxious ringing. It was the powder, you knew it had to be. What else would just suddenly start causing all this? 
“Y/N? You still good?” You heard Bucky ask through the comms, clearly still preoccupied with something else but wanting to check on you. 
You debated telling him about your symptoms. You were teammates, he should know. But on the other hand, It was just a few mostly mild symptoms, and the files were almost finished downloading anyway. You’d grab the hard-drive, run out of the compound and meet him in just a few minutes. You could make it until then. Plus, you didn’t wish to further annoy or distract him from fighting. 
“Yeah. Still good!” You tried to sound as enthusiastic and convincing as possible. It must have worked, because he didn’t question you further. 
Standing over the counter, still waiting for the files to be done, you leaned over the table a bit and made the idiotic decision to close your eyes for just a second, trying to relieve the headache. 
A moment later, you felt a sharp, intense fiery pain in your abdomen as someone reached from behind you choking your neck and thrusting a knife into your stomach. You were paralyzed for just a second with fear, not even able to cry out. The ringing in your ears was so bad, you must not have heard anyone come in. 
Trying to ignore the pain, you instinctively kicked your right leg back hard, hitting the man in the groin and causing him to fall to the ground. However, on his way down, he didn’t miss the chance to slash you in the calve with the knife he had been holding. The stab was so quick you could only gasp in pain. A gasp Bucky must not have heard as he was fighting his own battles. 
Turning around, you fumbled for your firearm for a moment before finally getting it out and being able to pull the trigger, sending a bullet right through his chest. Stumbling backwards a bit, you started to feel lightheaded and you were reminded of the red hot pain in your stomach. You placed a hand over the side the feeling was coming from, and immediately felt a sticky hot liquid coat your fingers. 
You didn’t have time however to investigate the stab wound, because as you glanced up, you could see through your blurry vision that 3 more men were walking in through the kicked down door. 
Lazily raising your gun again, gripping the table to keep from toppling over, you aimed as best you could, with ringing ears, blurred vision and now two stab wounds. Thankfully, your training in the red room had taught you how to aim with even a blindfold on, and with a few quick shots, the men were taken down, now lying limply on the ground in front of you. 
Bucky heard the gunshots through the comm, but since you never called his name or made a noise that would indicate you needed help, he assumed you had it under control. 
You let the gun fall from your hand, now that you were alone and for now, out of danger, you were finally able to feel the extent of your injuries as the adrenaline wore off. Ever so slowly, you peered down at your stomach and saw that the hand you’d been holding there was almost entirely now coated in blood. Without meaning to, you fell to your knees, which then painfully reminded you of the other deep wound in your calve. However, you were so tired, and the loss of blood was making it hard to do anything other than focus on breathing.  
You knew you needed to alert Bucky. You couldn’t just lie here and wait, you didn’t have that kind of time. 
“Bu-Buck” you whimpered, trying to be loud enough that the comm would pick it up. But even just trying to talk was proving to be exhausting. You knew you were losing what was probably a lot of blood. Wet hot tears started to roll down your face, you were dangerously close to just giving in to the blood loss induced exhaustion and closing your eyes.
——————
Bucky, meanwhile, had finished taking down the men on the other half of the facility and was waiting for you outside at the spot you’d both agreed you would meet. He spoke over the comms, “I took down Haverford and his men. I’m out here now. Hurry up.” Short and to the point. How he always was with you. 
Immediately, more tears welled in your eyes at hearing his voice. You were desperate, in pain, and exhausted. Despite having a deep distaste for Bucky, you knew you needed him. You needed him to come and find you. You didn’t have enough strength to speak, but luckily the sound of his voice finally brought your own voice back and you mustered up a deep, pathetic and painful whine from the back of your throat…and it was enough to be caught over your ear piece. 
He stood there for a few minutes, getting antsy. Especially since he didn’t hear fighting noises over comms, he assumed you were just taking your sweet time making it back to him.
After a bit of waiting he sighed, grumbling “C’mon Y/N, what the fuck could you possibly-“
His complaining ceased as soon as he heard your one singular cry through the comm. Bucky’s eyes went wide, heart dropping into his stomach. He’d never heard a sound like that come out of you before. 
“Y/N?” He called your name in an almost scared tone, “Are you okay?”
No response.
Bucky swore under his breath, “I’m coming, just hang on” he made that promise to you like it was an oath, and raced back inside the building. 
Sprinting to the side of the compound that you were tasked with handling, Bucky searched frantically through the hallways, popping his head into every room trying to find you….until he did.
You laid there, blood seeping across your shirt and a pool of it surrounding your one injured leg. The men that you had disarmed and killed were sprawled out around you. 
After his initial shock wore off, Bucky ran to you, kicking one of the dead arms dealers out of the way to get to you. He dropped to his knees, eyes scanning your wounds.
“Oh, Y/N” He whispered with guilt and sorrow dripping from his tone. A million emotions flashed across his face. Including anger at the men who had attacked you, but mostly at himself for allowing this to happen. 
You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and the tears finally flowed freely now. Aside from the pain, you were relieved. Despite you’re not getting along, in this moment you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to hold you, and tell you everything was going to be just fine.
“Okay” he whispered in a stunned tone, trying to calm both you and himself down. His hands hovered over your body as he took in your wounds and decided what he needed to do. 
 “Okay, alright.” That time, it came out more sure, “It’s alright, doll. Just keep breathing for me.”  He tried to comfort you as he whipped out his phone and let Tony and the team know they needed medical there immediately.
Bucky then swallowed, giving you a remorseful look for what he was about to do. 
“Okay sweetheart,” he began tenderly, as he took off the black jacket he had on, and then promptly ripped the sleeve of it off with his metal arm. 
“I’m gonna have to tie this around your leg to stop the bleeding. It might hurt a bit, but I gotta do it” He gently explained what he needed to do, waiting to see a sign in your eyes that at least you understood. You gave him a very weak nod, and that was all he needed to then wrap the sleeve tightly around your upper calf. 
He was right, it did hurt. But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t expected or weren’t prepared for. However, you believe Bucky only told you about having to wrap your leg, in order to half distract you from what he did next. 
A blinding, nauseating pain quickly overcame you as he took the rest of the jacket he had, and with his metal arm and half his body weight, pressed it over your abdominal wound.
You immediately cried out and instinctively reached for Bucky’s arm, trying to push him away. 
“Shhh, I know, I know baby” Bucky, who almost sounded pain-stricken himself with guilt, began to hush you, “I know it hurts, but I have to, I have to” He grabbed your hand that had tried to push him away, and let you squeeze the life out of his own as he continued applying pressure. His thumb softly grazed your knuckles, trying to soothe you. 
While continuing to comfort you, Bucky began to look around as if he expected someone else to also come to your aid. It was then that he realized he’d need to get you out of the building in order to get you onto the quinjet. There was no way the medical team would be able to find their way around in here to get to you in time. And he could see that you’d already lost a lot of blood, and even with the tourniquet and pressure he applied, you were still losing some. 
He took a breath, staring into your eyes with a serious yet remorseful look on his face, “Ok doll, I’m gonna have to pick you up and carry you out, but we can’t let up pressure on your wound” he explained, “So, I’m gonna need your help.”
Bucky then took the hand of yours that he was holding and gently guided it over to your abdomen. Lifting the jacket, he placed your hand over your own wound, you whimpered a little at the contact. Bucky swallowed, “I know doll, but I need you to put pressure on it like I was, okay? Can you do that for me?” He looked at you pleadingly, praying that you understood what he was saying.
Having to bite your own lip to keep from crying out again, you started to press down on your stomach with the little strength you still had. Bucky could tell you were trying by your obvious change in facial expression, “That’s it. Just like that, that’s my girl” he praised, quickly swiping one of your tears away. It wasn’t a lot of pressure, but it would do. 
Ever so gently, trying to avoid hurting your injured leg, Bucky gracefully slipped his arms underneath you and scooped you up, holding you close to his chest. You moaned a little at the shift in movement, “Shhh, I got you doll. I got you” he whispered into your hair as you shoved your face in the crook of his neck. 
He quickly made his way back out of the compound with you in his arms, thanking god when he saw the medevac quinjet was already out there waiting for you guys. Bucky tenderly laid you down on the stretcher, taking hold of your hand again as soon as he was able. 
“She was poisoned with something and then stabbed in her lower left calve and left quadrant of her abdomen” He immediately started rambling off what had happened to the medical team and Dr. Cho. 
“Poisoned with what?” Someone asked, he didn’t see who it was cause he wasn’t taking his eyes off of you. 
“I- I don’t know.” Bucky admitted, “I think she said it was white and powdery, I can’t remember.” Internally, he was kicking himself so hard for not having immediately ran to you when you told him about the poison. He shouldn’t have just written you off and told you to deal with it. He shouldn’t have done a lot of things. 
Bucky sat on the little bench in the quinjet right next you, still holding your hand, while the team got to work on your injuries. Technically, he should have been sitting at the front of the jet, out of their way, but no one was going to tell an upset Bucky Barnes what to do. 
As they began working your leg, removing the tourniquet and getting a shot of lidocaine ready to numb the area, you saw them preparing the syringe out of the corner of your eye. You begin to hyperventilate, letting out a small whimper of fear. You hated all things medical, which stemmed from a deep rooted fear that dated back to your red room days. After years of being practically experimented on and shot up with god knows what, you didn’t particularly love the sight of needles. Even if you knew you were in a safe environment. 
Bucky, who was still diligently sitting right beside you, immediately recognized your anxious reaction. He too knew that fear all too well. While he didn’t like to admit it, his time as the winter solider and being left at the hands of hydra often caused him to have visceral reactions to medical paraphernalia. 
“Hey, hey” he softly called to you as he gently held your chin and brought your face to meet his, “It’s alright doll, you don’t have to look down there. Just look at me. Right at me.” He held your eyes, squeezing your hand a little tighter to let you know he was there. “That’s it. Just keep looking at me, Y/N. I’m right here” And that’s how you eventually went unconscious, staring into Bucky’s eyes as he quietly shushed you and ran his hand through your hair.
——————
The harsh lights of the medical wing practically blinded you as you tried to let your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings. 
“Hey hon” you heard a soft voice coming from your right side, whom you instantly recognized as Natasha. 
“Well there she is” another voice, coming from your left who you thought was Steve, spoke up, sounding relieved at the fact you were awake. Your suspicions were proven correct when Steve leaned over slightly into your line of view. 
“Welcome back, Y/N” he smiled, clearly exhausted but delighted by your opened eyes. 
Your voice came out raspy and weak as you spoke for the first time, “H-how long have I been out?”
Natasha grabbed a cup from off your bedside table and offered you some water as Steve answered you,
“About three days. They had to get the bleeding under control and repair a portion of your stomach that was perforated. They also gave you some antibiotics to combat whatever the hell it was you were poisoned with,” he explained, “they seem to be working though. Doc says as soon as you’re strong enough, you can finish recuperating in your own room” He ended his spiel with a smile, but there was still one question he hadn’t answered that you were desperate for.
“W-Where’s Bucky?” You wondered why he wasn’t here, as you didn’t see him next to Steve or Nat. 
“He’s right here, Y/N” Steve motioned to the back of the room where you couldn’t see, but Bucky was standing in the corner, eyes red and sunken in like he’d been crying. He immediately picked his head up when he heard you mention him. 
“He hasn’t left this room in three days” Steve whispered to you in a hushed tone, hoping Bucky couldn’t hear him.
Nat cleared her throat, “We’re just gonna go get some coffee” she looked at Steve and jerked her head towards the door, beckoning him to follow her. They both left, leaving you and Bucky to yourselves. 
Slowly, Buck made his way over to your bed, taking the seat that Steve was just in. 
He was almost fearful of what to say, surprised that you had even asked for him in the first place. He blamed himself entirely for what happened, and was positive that when you woke up, you’d want nothing to do with him. And he wouldn’t blame you.
“Hey doll” he croaked out, voice sounding strained, “How’re you feeling?”
You swallowed, “My stomach hurts, and I have a headache” you admitted, still in a bit of pain from your wound healing. 
Bucky nodded, “Do you want me to get the doctor? They might be able to give you more pain meds.” He asked, wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. You didn’t know, but for the past three days Bucky had remained diligently at your bedside, alerting medical staff of any slight change in vital signs or if he thought you were cold and needed more blankets. He’d only left a few brief times when Steve had to force him to go eat or use the bathroom. 
You shook your head, “no, no I’m okay. Promise” You offered him a slight smile. 
Bucky stared down at his hands for a moment before he spoke up again, “Y/N, I am so so so sorry. This never would’ve happened if I had just listened to you and not had us split up.” He spoke with such guilt and shame you almost felt bad for him, “I was so focused on my own agenda and being a dick to you, that I completely ignored when you needed help. I can’t even-“
“Buck,” you interrupted him, reaching over and grabbing his hand with the little strength you had, “this isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of the men who stabbed me. That’s it. No one else’s” As much as you knew he fucked up with the way he treated you, you certainly didn’t think he should have to take responsibility for you getting hurt. 
“But if I had come as soon as you said you were poisoned, if I had just listened to you instead of choosing to be an asshole, you probably wouldn’t be in this hospital bed” he insisted, eyes getting watery. 
“Well, you were an asshole, I’ll give you that.” You smirked at him, trying to get him to relax, “but you also saved my life.” Bucky looked up at you, “You tied the tourniquet which kept me from losing more blood, and then made sure I didn’t have a panic attack on the quinjet. You might have fucked up a little Bucky, but you certainly made up for it” you gave his hand a little squeeze. 
For the first time since you went under surgery, Bucky smiled, “All the same, I’m never separating from you during missions ever again.” 
You playfully rolled your eyes, “that sounds a little suffocating, don’t you think?”
He shook his head, “Nope. Not to me. Nothings ever happening to you while you’re under my watch again”
“Well if that’s the case,” you scooted over a little in the bed, “will you keep me warm before I freeze to death in here?” You were genuinely very cold and were hoping for someone to bring you another blanket, but you supposed having Bucky there would do.
He chuckled softly, “you got it.” Lowering the hospital bed rail, Bucky climbed in and laid down next you, pulling you up close to him with his arm around your shoulders. 
He placed a brief kiss along your hairline, “get some rest, doll. I’ll be right here.” 
————-
Taglist: @patzammit @dpaccione @fdl305 @gh0stgurl
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ginnsbaker · 1 month ago
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All Of Your Pieces (3 - The Neighbor)
Chapter Summary: Agnes sees the perfect opportunity to stir up some trouble while Wanda deals with her jealousy toward your work assistant, Geraldine. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 2.8k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None
A/N: I really have nothing to say except that I enjoyed writing Agatha in this chapter // More author's notes here.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
The team has been at a standstill, figuring out who’s behind this, or how to communicate with anyone trapped inside the town. Every drone they've sent in morphs into something entirely different, thwarting their efforts to gather any useful intel. The people sent underground to scout a safe route through have gone dark, their communication cut off. No one else volunteered to attempt approaching the perimeter after that.
The broadcasts they've been tracking are erratic, cutting out for hours with no warning, making it hard to keep a consistent eye on the town's odd behaviors. But it's during one of these quiet periods when something clicks in Darcy's mind.
“I think I have something,” Darcy blurts out to Jimmy. They’ve been scraping the bottom of the barrel, running out of faces to identify from the snippets of life in Westview they caught on screen. 
“Yeah?” Jimmy gives her a tired look, only half-listening. He can't remember the last time he managed more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep. Even if he could find the time to rest, the bizarre situation they're in won't let his mind relax. 
Darcy sighs and leads him outside the tent.
“So, you’ve seen that radio on Wanda’s kitchen counter, right?”
Jimmy only nods.
Darcy continues, “The next time she’s washing dishes, or whatever—which by my count—happens about once an episode, barf, we’ll shoot a signal to that little guy.” She leads him to a set of computers set up behind a pickup truck. Jimmy doesn’t understand what’s going on with these systems, but he’s hoping Darcy really is onto something.
“This transmitter will mimic the frequency of the broadcast,” she pauses to catch her breath in the cold and to give him time to catch up with her science. “And if my theory is right, it will allow us to speak to her.”
She cuts off any chance for Jimmy to comment and assures him, “This is definitely going to work.”
The annual Westview Harvest Festival is in full swing. The town square is packed with booths overflowing with baked goods and fresh fall produce. A small stage is set up for the local band playing tunes from the 70s, while kids dart around in all directions, their faces painted with fanciful designs. Billy and Tommy are with their preschool teachers, who are keeping them and other children their age occupied with arts and crafts that involve tumbleweeds—a material no one seems to think is entirely safe for five-year-olds to play with.
In hindsight, it’s the ideal setting for introductions and mingling. However, everyone here already knows each other—everyone, that is, except for Wanda. She makes an effort to blend in, but apart from a few interactions with the planning committee, which weren’t particularly fruitful, she often remains secluded at home. This makes you, the only one in the household who heads out daily for work, the more socially connected of the two. It’s both amusing and slightly anxiety-inducing to watch you interact with the townsfolk who are essentially strangers to you and to Wanda, if only you knew. You and Wanda never had the opportunity to live a normal life, to settle in a typical city, surrounded by neighbors who could have become integral to the life you might have built together. 
Seeing you interact with these people, she’s realizing it’s harder than she thought to share you with others. Or maybe she’s just as selfish as she’s always been, never really outgrowing it. When you were both part of the Avengers, it was like living in a bubble, surrounded by only a few familiar faces every day. Now, outside that controlled environment, it’s challenging her expectations and stirring up feelings she thought she had under control.
It becomes particularly tough when she sees Geraldine heading towards you, sporting that perpetual, dazzling smile full of perfect white teeth. Wanda's fingers curl into a fist, tiny wisps of red energy leaking from them. You quickly cover her hand with yours, and the effect is immediate—she relaxes slightly, letting you intertwine your fingers with hers, anchoring herself by your side where she feels secure.
“It's so nice to see you outside of the office, just being one of us for a change,” Geraldine says, though she seems to be wearing the same uniform as at work. Not that you're judging, but it does make you wonder why she hasn't changed.
“Definitely beats being stuck behind a desk,” you reply, your attention briefly wandering. Only then do you notice that Wanda has subtly withdrawn her hand from yours, now exploring a booth with homemade apple cider. You hadn't even noticed the exact moment she let go.
“Hello, Wanda!” Geraldine greets her warmly. 
Wanda musters a tight-lipped smile that’s convincing enough, as Geraldine appears quite taken with it. Just then, Geraldine spots Agnes standing a little away from the crowd, lingering behind Wanda with a look that borders on suspicion or disdain. 
Geraldine steps up to her while Wanda continues to busy herself with whatever else is being showcased in the booth. “Hi, I'm Geraldine. Isn’t this a wonderful evening?” She extends her hand to Agnes.
Agnes eyes the offered hand but doesn’t accept it. Instead, she sizes up Geraldine with a quick once-over and nods, foregoing any introductions. Geraldine's smile falters briefly, but she quickly shakes off the slight, tossing a brisk, “See you around, Y/N!” over her shoulder as she heads back to her table.
You wave back and let out a sigh, relieved that you’ve just sidestepped what could have been the most awkward moment of your life. Wanda’s jealousy towards Geraldine seems more serious than you’d realized. You know Wanda can be possessive; it's just been a long time since it's manifested this way. But then, it's also been a while since you've both been in a crowd of strangers like this. Since…
Since when, exactly?
“Y/N, honey?” Wanda’s voice snaps you out of your fog.
You blink. “Hm?”
“I’m thirsty.”
Just like that, you’ve forgotten about your lapse of memory, replaced by a desire to tend to your wife's needs.
“I’ll get us some refreshments. What would you like?” you ask.
“Just some water, please.”
“Water here, too,” Agnes calls out, unsolicited. 
You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. It's great that Wanda's making friends in the neighborhood, but did it really have to be Agnes O’Connor? Ever since you and Wanda moved into this quiet suburb, Agnes has made it her personal mission to be involved in every aspect of your lives. You can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it than the apparent nosiness of your neighbor.
As you head over to get the drinks, Agnes sidles up to Wanda, her eyes gleaming with an opportunity to stir some pot. 
“Geraldine seems quite taken with your wife.”
It’s not like Wanda doesn’t know what Agnes’s doing, but she finds herself nodding in agreement anyway. Your new assistant does appear smitten with you, and while Wanda gets the appeal—you are, undeniably, crush-worthy—she can't say she's thrilled about it.
“Y/N is her boss,” Wanda murmurs, more to herself than to Agnes.
“Oh, honey,” Agnes laughs condescendingly. “Do you even go to the movies? That's how the steamiest affairs start, you know.”
Wanda bristles at the sound of that endearment from someone other than you. But she keeps herself together—barely. 
“I trust her,” Wanda forces out.
As you're getting drinks, Geraldine joins you, picking up a soda herself. She lets out a light laugh at a joke from the bartender, and you find yourself chuckling too, oblivious to the piercing look your wife is drilling into your back.
Meanwhile, Agnes sees her opening and swoops in, linking her arm through Wanda's with a bit more force than necessary. 
“Of course, you trust her, dear,” she murmurs right by Wanda's ear. “But do you trust her?” She points subtly with her chin towards Geraldine, her lips pursed. “You know what they say, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer…”
Wanda's shoulders tense, her entire frame stiffening. As you return with the drinks, Agnes steps away, leaving Wanda visibly shaken, like she’s teetering on the edge of a panic attack.
“Everything okay?” you ask, handing her a drink. You've noticed before how Wanda's demeanor changes around Agnes; she’s clearly a source of stress for her. It’s going to be a difficult conversation, but it might be time to tell Wanda what you really think about the neighbor.
Wanda takes the water you offer, her fingers trembling slightly as she does. For a moment, she appears distant, disengaged, as if her mind is elsewhere. Then, with a sudden shift, she flashes you one of those smiles that sends a shiver down your spine.
“I'm fine,” she declares, a little too brightly. Then, seemingly out of the blue, she asks, “Is Geraldine here with someone?”
You stop short, realizing you really don't know much about Geraldine beyond work. “I didn’t see her with anyone,” you say.
Wanda nods thoughtfully. Her next suggestion catches you by surprise. 
“Maybe you should invite her over to our table.”
Did you hear that correctly? Had Wanda just done a complete 180 regarding your assistant and was now interested in getting to know her? You shoot a suspicious glance at Agnes. Had she said something to Wanda to change her mind?
“Are you sure?” you ask, puzzled by her abrupt change of heart.
“I am,” Wanda affirms. “It might be nice to make a new friend.”
Back at the response camp, Darcy and Jimmy are huddled around the small, grainy television, waiting for the moment Wanda’s in her kitchen so they can send a message through her radio device. However, the usual domestic scenes are conspicuously absent, replaced by static and sporadic cuts to the ongoing Harvest Festival.
“Come on, come on,” Darcy mutters under her breath, shoving her glasses back up her nose. They've been slipping a lot lately, probably because she's been hunching over her work more than usual these past few days.
“It's this festival,” Jimmy says, squinting at the screen. “I think the whole town's out there tonight. I don’t think we’re going to get the chance.”
Their attempts to contact anyone inside the Hex are dwindling, and Hayward's interest leans more towards studying the energy barrier encasing the town rather than resolving the anomaly itself. His latest directive to launch another drone into the barrier feels like a brute force attempt to crack the problem. Jimmy thinks it’s a waste of time—and resources.
“Yeah, and you know what’s worse?” Darcy grumbles. “I have a bad feeling about Agnes. Every time she's around, things just seem to... escalate.”
As they watch, the screen cuts to a shot of Agnes at the festival, linking arms with Wanda, whispering something that makes Wanda’s expression tighten. “See, what did I tell you?” Darcy exclaims, pointing at the screen. “Who’s this Agnes again in real life?” she asks.
Jimmy swivels in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the expansive pinboard filled with photos of Westview residents. Agnes’s face is not among them. 
“No idea,” he says flatly. He had already run a search in the database, but it came back empty.
“So, we've identified Y/N, Monica, and Agnes as outsiders in Westview,” Darcy explains, tallying them off on her fingers. 
“That’s correct,” Jimmy confirms.
“And then there’s Wanda’s sons. But again… we haven’t seen any other children in the show besides the twins.”
Jimmy thinks about it for a while. It had never really occurred to him before. “Maybe they’re bound to show up at some point?”
“Smells fishy to me,” Darcy huffs. Her thoughts circle back to Agnes. “How do you think Agnes ended up here?” she asks, their list of unanswered questions growing daily.
Jimmy shrugs. “She could’ve just been visiting.”
Darcy considers it. It's a possibility, but somehow, it doesn't feel quite right—too simple, too convenient for someone as vibrant and prickly as the character Agnes portrays.
It's as if Wanda's animosity toward Geraldine just magically went away. 
They’ve been chatting for almost an hour. Initially, Wanda made sure to include you in the conversation, but as time passed, she and Geraldine started connecting over topics that didn’t involve you as much. Feeling somewhat left out but also at ease that the problem between your wife and your secretary has apparently resolved itself, you decide to check out the festival booths.
This is where Agnes finds the perfect opportunity to get you alone. She starts her approach—to your surprise and discomfort—by acknowledging the elephant in the room.
“I know you don’t like me very much,” she says with a knowing smile. “Maybe we can change that tonight?”
You eye her with suspicion, easily seeing through her blatant attempts to flirt her way into your good graces.
“How exactly are we going to do that?” you ask, crossing your arms in front of you.
Agnes simply laughs off the cool reception you’ve given her. If anything, she revels in it. 
“By getting to know each other, obviously,” she says.
“Right.”
She takes your elbow, and you swear she can feel you recoil at her closeness, yet she doesn’t seem to care. She urges you forward, dictating the pace. Her grip is unexpectedly firm, as if to say you have no choice but to listen—like leaving isn't an option.
With you literally in her grasp, Agnes sets her plans into motion. “So, how did you and Wanda meet?” she asks.
You deliver the narrative precisely as it plays out in your memory, exactly as Wanda implanted it in your mind. “We grew up next to each other. Best friends since we were kids.” 
“How cute,” she says, in that smooth, supercilious tone that usually makes your skin crawl. But this time, with the memories of Wanda filling your head, you hardly notice.
“Yeah, I remember when I first saw her,” you continue, gazing into the distance as if the scene you speak of is right there before your eyes. “It was almost Halloween, and my mom had baked a pumpkin pie to welcome them to the neighborhood. She sent me to deliver it. Wanda answered the door.”
“Love at first sight?”
“More like the opposite,” you say, throwing Agnes a good-natured smile, something you’ve never done before. “She couldn’t stand me, and I felt the same way.”
“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” Agnes drawls before accompanying it with a short chuckle. “Who knows? Maybe there’s hope for us yet. You might end up not hating me so much after all.”
“Maybe…” you say, the smile reaching your eyes this time.
“Good, good,” Agnes says. “I can’t think of anything more romantic than growing up with the person you’ll be with for the rest of your life. Almost like it’s… sketched out, no?”
You nod at her, not sure where she’s going with this, but you appreciate the sentiment. You consider yourself lucky to have known Wanda most of your life. 
“So, you've lived in Westview your whole life?” Agnes asks.
“Yes,” you nod without hesitation.
“And you've only ever been to Westview?”
“No, of course not,” you laugh, ready to list off places you've been, but suddenly, you can't name any. The cities and trips that should come easily to your tongue just... don't materialize.
Not a single one.
Agnes watches you struggle with a blank expression. A second later, she begins throwing out suggestions, as if trying to help. 
“Canada?" 
You shake your head. 
“California?” 
Another shake.
“New York?”
No. This time, your eyes sting with the frustration of trying to pull something from the haze, realizing there’s nothing there. 
Have you really never been anywhere but Westview?
“Eastview, maybe?” she offers with a bit of sarcasm as she names the town next door.
“I—”
“How strange,” Agnes muses, driving home the final nail in the coffin of your crumbling peace.
You jerk your arm away from her grip and take a few instinctive steps back. “I need to pick up the twins,” you blurt out, seizing the first excuse that comes to mind. “We should be heading out soon.”
Without waiting for her reply, you start walking away, driven by a sudden, intense need to be with your boys, with Wanda. To hold them close, to find some stability. Because right now, you’re petrified by a fear you cannot name. 
“I heard Australia’s amazing this time of year!” Agnes calls after you.
The idea of not having been anywhere but Westview—it’s possible, right? Some people spend their entire lives in one place. But if this feeling—the one that's been gnawing at you lately—is real, if the world outside of Westview is truly non-existent, then what does that say about your life here?
What does it say about you?
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n0tamused · 4 months ago
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Hello! I wanna send a req if u don't mind! Separate hcs/headcanons for Blade & Jing Yuan with gn!reader where the reader is being dense when another man tries to flirt with them. That's all & thx!
Contents: fluff, gn reader, hope you enjoy! Sorry for the long wait
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Jing Yuan:
-The General of the Luofu and his lover are what people see as an example of a stable relationship, considering just how long you’ve been together, and not just as romantic partners either. Jing Yuan trusts you without a doubt, and you trust him all the same in equal measure, if not even more.
-Trust is not something either of you debate, and you are both happy to know of one another’s ability to trust and rely on the other, but that same trust can, in no way, be applied to the people outside of the relationship - strangers especially. 
-From this, there were a few instances where a stranger might have tried to approach the General, even if you were nearby, sputtering flowery words or playing with the locks of their hair. Jing Yuan never entertained such actions, brushing them aside and making clear mention how he “had to return to his beloved” before leaving the person aside. He knows how many people swoon over him and makes it a point to give you even more love to reassure you that he’d never look at any of them as fondly as he looks at you. You’re the only one that has a place in his heart. 
-But what Jing Yuan is not exactly fond of experiencing is you going through the same thing. Even from afar he can see how your lips press into a thin uncomfortable line, your eyes gazing at this stranger in caution, unblinking with unease. He sees you try, and vaguely hears as he approaches, how you try and get out of the conversation without making much of a fuss, and although you are firm too - the other is way too stubborn to back off
-The large hands of Jing Yuan find their way onto your sides, and he’s now peering at the person over your shoulder with that coy smile on his face. He doesn’t look threatening per se, but one would have to be a fool to not understand the mistake of their doings now
-He greets the person just as amiably, asking you what is going on, a curious little cat he is, he wants to know. But he doesn’t linger, he knows you want to get away, just as much as he wants to remove you from this situation. He tells the person something rather cryptic, rather poisoned honey for words, and the person understands - that much he makes sure off before he politely excuses you both away
-The General isn’t someone people fear and he doesn’t ever feel the need to present himself as a figure that needs to herald any unease of fear. He only dislikes his partner being put in such an unfavorable position and he will use his vast vocabulary to hide little threats for such behavior skillfully. His partner’s comfort is up on his priority list and he doesn’t play around with that
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Blade:
-Blade is not one to beat around the bush or pray for forgiveness from anyone he might offend with his bluntness, and he certainly keeps this demeanor even after forgetting certain things due to Mara or Kafka’s Spirit Whisper
-As a lover he is rather distant and although he cares somewhere deep down in his old, scarred heart, a stranger wouldn’t be able to guess you’re even friends out in the open world. He doesn’t like standing in one place for too long, and if there’s intel that needs to be gathered or something that needs to be done, he puts a reasonable distance between the two of you as well, safety reasons mainly come to mind, but a part of him doesn’t want you to be involved in this business anyway so subconsciously he is trying to distance you from the operations as a whole. He tries and he fails, but he tries again next time and fails again.
-He always has an eye out for you, like a sixth sense ingrained into his mind.
-Along the lines of his work he vaguely does remember a few bold individuals that have tried to “hit on him”, but they were either not completely sober or were easily ignored. He wasn’t the person to entertain any flirtatious remarks and he isn’t the easiest person to approach. He scares people easily, so he doesn’t have much of a problem with people getting in his way just to say his eyes are pretty or something else.
-You, on the other hand, are not nearly as blunt or scary as he is, everyone’s aware of that. 
-He doesn’t waste time either. Once he senses you may be uncomfortable by another person’s approach to you, he’s already stepping in and making the person scurry off with a few rash choice of words that definitely sting at best. 
-Similarly to Jing Yuan, he values the peace your own peace of mind brings, and he doesn’t play around when it comes to your comfort. If someone disturbs you, he will make sure they stop and never do so again.
-He’s rather protective of you, even in those moments where he seems to forget the connection you two share.
-Just imagine: You’re talking to this unpleasant stranger, alcohol is clinging to them like perfume and they’re talking about how they’d love to invite you over for dinner, but suddenly they look over your shoulder where Blade is now taking a step towards you. He seemingly appeared out of thin air, merged from the crowd and he’s wearing the darkest of expressions, but he is unbothered truly. You don’t have to look behind you to know it is him either, he radiates that certain atmosphere that is hard to mistake. “Is there something wrong here?” he asks plainly, stiffly even, the question more pointed to you as he glares the stranger down. The stranger, unsure if this was alcohol's doing or reality is quick to scurry away with plenty of excuses bubbling up to their lips and farewells. 
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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leighsartworks216 · 3 months ago
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In Your Arms
Sylus x gn!Reader
Huge huge huge shoutout to @blueroseava for steering my "Sylus isn't used to gentle touches" thought into this fluffy little thing. This one takes place in the Raven universe (the same MC as Lap Dog and The Raven), but I may write another one with a softer MC later. Thank you again for sharing this idea bc now I cannot think straight I just wanna cuddle this huge man so bad <333
Warnings: fluff, cuddling, some biting, established relationship, selectively mute reader, reader is the only one who can boss him around like this
Word Count: 898
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Every single deal this week fell through. Every. Single. One. It wasn’t even because the deals were unfair or that he was being duped. No. It was worse. His competitors swept the deals right out from under him.
As a result, Sylus was irritable and quicker to snap than usual. Not at you, of course. He was upset, but he didn’t have a death wish. The twins were mostly the outlet for his bad mood, alongside his punching bag.
You find him in his office, the knuckle of his finger brushing against his upper lip as he read a series of documents. You don’t bother knocking before you enter. He doesn’t look up, but you know he notices your presence. He always does, even in a crowded party.
You walk behind his chair and press your hands into his shoulders, digging your thumbs against the tense muscle at the back of his neck. He sighs, lifting his head up from his work to encourage you. You kiss the back of his head.
“The sun is up and you’re still here.” You drag your thumbs along the sides of his spine before moving back up again.
“Is my kitten missing me?” he teases. His voice is rough with exhaustion, low and slightly airy as you massage him. You lean down to bite his neck. He chuckles at your way of scolding him. But, he finally relents.
The papers in his hands land carelessly on his desk, no longer worth his time when you’re here trying to drag him off to bed. Your magic touch abandons him as he stands. The tension seems to return tenfold when he looks down at you, neck strained once again from the simple fact of his being taller than everyone else.
You grab his hand, holding it to your face briefly to press a kiss to his palm, before intertwining your fingers together and dragging him out of his office. Luke and Kieran are nowhere to be seen or heard. Mephisto is off spying for Sylus, gathering intel that could turn his hand back against his competitors. He sighs. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.
You’re already dressed for bed, but Sylus is still in the nice dress clothes from his meeting earlier that night. He lets your hand go so he can change. When he comes back, the soft pajama pants are hanging low on his lips, but you don’t even spare them a glance.
You’re sitting up, back against the headboard. It’s his usual position, or it was until he found someone worth laying down next to. Someone he knew full well could slit his throat, but who chose to protect it anyway. Any intruders who dared to break into the Onychinus base and make an attempt on his life would be praying they were never born without him ever needing to worry.
“You’re in my spot,” he points out, raising his eyebrow.
You pat your lap. “It’s my spot tonight. Lay down.”
“So demanding.” He crawls up the bed until he can rest his head in your lap. It wasn’t a completely foreign position, when the roles were reversed. It’s the first time he’s ever been down here, looking up into your face. Your thighs as his pillow, keeping him from straining his neck any more. It… feels nicer than he expected it to.
Fingers which have taken lives without hesitation, that he’d seen pull apart guns in seconds just to put them back together equally as fast, traced delicately along his cheek. Soft, tender touches that felt along his jaw and brushed down the bridge of his nose. At one point, they close his eyes, with an accompanying huff of annoyance from you.
“Sleep,” you command.
He chuckles. “Of course, sweetie.”
The gentle caresses tempt him to bite your fingers when you brush them over his lips, but he resists, if only to avoid pissing you off. He doesn’t expect the groan that’s pulled from his lips when your other hand drags through his hair. Your nails scratch lightly at his scalp, his hair sliding through your fingers like silk.
It’s so different to when your hands are usually tangled in his hair. Usually, it’s rough, grabbing fistfuls of white locks and pulling hard enough to sting, commanding his head to be where you want him. This is the closest to heaven he’s ever felt.
He exhales and the tension in his body goes with the slightly shaky breath. You drag your nails from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck, praising him for letting go so easily in your care. Your other hand glides down his neck and arm until you can lace your fingers together once more.
As his exhaustion takes hold, his trust is implicitly and wholly in your hands, peaceful in the knowledge that he will make it through the night even in such a vulnerable position.
In the morning, he’s on his stomach, arms wrapped around your back and face pressed tightly against your belly. Your hand is still tangled in his hair, limp as you sleep, but sturdy in its willpower to stay there. He’s the first to wake, disoriented and slow to piece together how he ended up here. But then he closes his eyes again, nuzzles like a cat into your welcoming heat, and drifts off.
---
Tag List:
@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow
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bgwlsmahf25 · 3 months ago
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“Marriage”
Pairings: Natasha x reader; Kate x reader (friends)
Genre: fluff
Warnings: little bit of angst if you squint; lots of fluff
Summary: feelings are revealed when you and Natasha are sent on a mission - as a married couple
a/n: literally wrote this at 1am so excuse any spelling mistakes or bad grammar. Love writing fluff fics, kinda want to write more Nat x reader on missions together.
“You’ll be acting as a married couple, spending a few days’ getaway, while you gather intel on this HYDRA cell. Early reports estimate there’s four men and two women. We need them alive,” Steve added, his gaze moving from you to Natasha.
“Relax, Cap. I know they’re the bad guys but I want them alive almost as much as you do.” She glanced over at you. “Ready to be my wife, baby?”
You gulped and nodded, making her smirk. “Uh, y-yes. Baby.”
After the mission briefing, you left hastily. You needed to find Kate and inform her of how deep you were in it this time. The raven-haired archer was your best friend from college and the two of you were delighted to be working together for SHIELD. While Kate grew her skills and reputation alongside Clint, you were training to be a stealth agent, like Natasha. Being on this op was your dream… apart from the tiny problem of your crush on Agent Romanoff.
You’d fangirled over her from afar, daydreaming about what it would be like to date her. You’d also infamously (Kate laughed about it every time it was mentioned) tripped over your own feet at your first meeting with Natasha, falling flat on your ass in front of her. While Kate had burst into peals of laughter, Natasha had reached down and pulled you to your feet with amusement written all over her face.
“...Y/n!” You jolted, Kate’s voice bringing you out of your daydream. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Where are you? We need to talk, like, now.”
“I’m at our usual rendezvous.”
You met Kate on the roof. Her bow and quiver were lying by her side and she was in her training gear, sitting on the edge of the roof, one leg swinging over the side of the building and the other tucked up, her chin resting upon it.
“Hey.” You sat down beside her and groaned. “I’m in deep shit, Katie.”
“You landed yourself a mission with Natasha? Your crush, I might add. How’s that deep shit?”
“I have to play her wife,” you whimpered. “Her wife! What the hell do I do?”
She chuckled, but stopped when you glared at her. “Yeah. You’re in deep shit. Just make sure you’re focused on the mission when you’re supposed to be and not on her. I remember this one time with me and Clint, and I was all like, Clint, Hawkeye, he’s an Avenger, and I forgot that we were supposed to be tracking bad guys and I almost got an arrow in my…”
You put a hand over her mouth, stopping her ramble. “What do I do, Katie? I’m not going to do well on this mission. I’ve failed everyone.” You put your head in your hands.
“Hey. Hey,” she said gently, putting an arm around you. “You’re y/n. You were hand picked for this. I know you can do this. Now come on, let’s go look at the kit that you’re going to take with you. Focus on the mission and it’ll be over before you know it, ok?”
You headed off the roof, making your way back down through the levels of the compound until you were approaching the labs, which were a shortcut to the kit room. You pulled Kate back as she rounded a corner, noticing Natasha and Bruce in one of the rooms. The expression on Natasha’s face as she gazed at Bruce made your stomach twist. He put a hand on her arm and spoke, making her laugh and shake her head.
Peering round the corner to see a bit more, he glanced past the spy, noticing you watching. Your eyes widened as you made eye contact and you retreated quickly, heading off down the corridor. Kate didn’t say anything but watched you go, knowing you needed some space.
***
There was a tyre swing amongst the trees on the edge of the compound. It was built by Bucky for some of the SHIELD agents’ children. You sat down glumly on the tyre, too dejected to push yourself back and forth.
“Hey.” You looked up to see Natasha standing a few metres away. “Can we talk?” You shrugged and she approached slowly, pausing when she was right next to you. You stared at the ground until she reached out, putting a hand under your chin and tilting your head up to look at her.
“Y/n, talk to me. I know something’s wrong. You couldn’t wait to leave the briefing room this morning.” She hesitated. “Is it me? Did I do something?”
Yes, you thought, you were talking to Bruce and not me. “This mission’s going to be hard for you, isn’t it?” you said quietly.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I’m not Bruce,” you whispered, your gaze falling to the ground again. “I’m just me.”
She was silent for a moment then crouched down next to you. “Y/n, you’re not just you. Please don’t say that about yourself. I don’t think of you that way. You’re so much more to me than that. And Bruce… he understands it’s not going to be him. He’s okay with it, and so am I. We’re just friends.” She bit her lip. “We’re close because we’ve both seen things… things that not many others have.”
“Natasha, I don’t think I can go on this mission with you.”
“Hey.” She waited until you looked at her. “I selected you for this mission. It wasn’t Steve, or even Fury, who asked for you. It was me. Do you know why?”
You shook your head. “No.”
“Because I know that you care about me. And I know that I can get extremely focused on missions, sometimes to a deteriorating point. And I need someone to bring me back to reality when I’m about to charge into a room full of HYDRA agents. That person, that someone, is you. I know that you’ll keep me grounded.” She leant closer. “It was only ever going to be you coming with me, y/n.”
“Right.”
“I care about you,” she whispered, and your head jerked up, staring at her with a wide, slightly confused gaze. “I care about you a lot.”
A small smile crept onto your face, making her smile. She leant in, her forehead touching yours, and reached out, winding her fingers through yours. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from both of you.
***
“Any updates?”
You looked away from the window to see Natasha sitting up against a bank of pillows, her laptop lying next to her. You narrowed your eyes and looked hard at her. “You’re supposed to be resting… my love.”
She smiled. “I am.”
“That means leaving the reports for later,” you said, going over to the bed and reaching over to grab her laptop. She pulled you down on top of her, making you squeal, and kissed you softly. “And there’s no update. They’re still in the room, talking.”
“This is the most boring op ever,” she groaned.
“Oh I’m sorry, am I not exciting enough?” You pretended to be affronted and moved back towards the window. You heard her get out of bed and pad over to stand behind you, one of the hotel’s dressing gowns wrapped around her. She leant her chin on your shoulder, peering through the binoculars as you raised them to her eye level.
“You’re plenty exciting, baby,” she whispered, making a shiver run down your spine. “I just wish they would be too. Otherwise Fury’s getting a two sentence report and he won’t be pleased about that.”
“Your mind is too much on this mission,” you chided softly. “You need to relax and let me take care of things. After all,” you raised the binoculars to your eyes again, “I’ve got it all under control.”
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