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oneatlatime · 1 year

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Bato of the Water Tribe

Bilingual bonus in the title. Also, completely not kidding, I tried to type Bato and my fingers automatically filled out Baton Rouge.

Sokka's battle reconstruction abilities reminding me of Count Ruegen's from the Princess Bride.

I'm not seeing any flags or other identification on that ship, so I guess Sokka knows it's from his dad's fleet because he memorised what all the ships in his dad's fleet looked like? That's both sweet and heartbreaking.

That giant mole dog thing just bit through metal. I'm guessing this thing has no pain receptors in its face.

I'm with Zuko on this one. That lady is too young for Iroh.

Be still my heart!!! Is this going to be a Sokka episode?

Pretty.

BABY SOKKA!!!!!! Also his dad has either a very poofy coat or a tiny head.

Right out the gate, in a scene that can't last more than 30 seconds, we see that the Water Tribe has infinitely superior parenting skills to the Fire Nation. Mr. Firelord could take a couple of lessons from this guy.

Whoever is voicing Bato (thank you avatar writers for putting his name in the title so I can spell it) is doing it absolutely perfectly. Beautiful buttery voice with just a little roughness around the upper and lower edges, and - I won't describe this right - but there's the sound of experience and familiarity in the voice. This is a guy who has lived lots of life, but also lived lots of life with Sokka and Katara. He's really selling their connection and their relationship (which I presume is like those parents' random friends you call uncle and aunt who aren't biologically related - fictive kin).

Either water tribe growth spurts come late or Bato is stupidly tall. Also loving the toga look. Don't quite know how it's staying up, but it does look comfy.

"After I was wounded, your father carried me to this abbey." HOLD UP WHERE'S THE FANFIC 50K SLOW BURN HURT/COMFORT FRIENDS TO LOVERS GIMMEEEEEE

Sorry Bato, but your boat is a ship. Not a boat. It's ship-sized.

Katara's like 'Sokka no that's mean!' Bato's like 'oh god there's two of them.' Lovely stealthy worldbuilding here. We've only seen Sokka and Katara's dad in that 30 second flashback, which told us he was loving. Now we know he's also funny. One line, and the writers double the depth.

Aang get off your high horse. We know you're a vegetarian, but Sokka and Katara left home for the first time only a few weeks ago and are probably getting homesick by now so stuff it! Tangent time: can you imagine how happy Sokka and Katara must be at having a familiar face in a place made familiar, who probably has news of their dad? There's no indication that any of the water tribe men have been home on leave since they all (apparently literally ALL) left home years ago. This is like Christmas for them.

Quick lesson to all you youngins out there: one day you may have children. And if you do, unless your children have the upmost loving respect for you, you will lose all ability to make them follow the rules as soon as they learn about the kind of stuff you got up to when you were their age. So don't post it online. Don't brag about it. Don't document it. They will find out. Children have noses like a bloodhound's for yesteryear's parental shenanigans. Also don't stick an octopus on your head under any circumstances.

Seriously though, I'm loving the insight into normal (ie not avatar or war related) water tribe life. Adds depth to the characters and the culture.

At the end of the episode with the Blue spirit, Aang talked about how he had friends all over the world before the war. During all this global visiting, was he never taught the laws of hospitality? Or basic politeness? Don't touch people's stuff. Learn to sit still for five minutes. It's not always about you.

I had completely forgotten about Katara's necklace. I didn't enjoy Imrpisoned much, so I guess I blanked that plot point.

"You can come with me, and see your father again" once again Bato's voice actor hitting it out of the park. I felt for a moment like it was two years since I'd seen my father and I was so excited for the chance to see him again.

A surprisingly mature stance from both Sokka and Katara here. Actually, despite Sokka's hinted-at father worship I'm not surprised that he made the mature choice. He's the one who's been keeping them on track the whole time. But I am a bit surprised that Katara was ok with missing out on a chance to see her father. She's been the one chasing after butterflies and that's one heck of a butterfly.

Aang DONT

Goddamn he did. Aang has no manners and no brain this episode. Come on.

Zuko and company taking us on a world tour. Popping into previous episodes is a cool idea.

Haybending. Another entry on the list of vaguely defined avatar powers.

Is this ice dodging thing going where I think it's going? Because if so, I am completely on board.

I finished the fortuneteller episode pretty peeved at the plot in general, but I gotta say I admire the balls on this lady. Only person in the village with a spine (and a brain). Followed up with a pretty banger line from Iroh. If Iroh is looking for some action he should check out this lady rather than the bounty hunter. They could make increasingly cryptic comments over a shared pot of tea and annoy Zuko so much he turns colours.

The most intense Bar Mitzvah I've ever seen. As a general rule, Bar Mitzvahs don't (usually) involve the possibility of a body count.

What's on Sokka's face?

Just going to slip in some sneaky meditation. Seems like a quiet enough spot.

You know, I think Katara's actually in the correct pose for holding the mainsail. Obviously Sokka has nautical knowledge, but I guess Katara sails too.

Can we talk for a moment about how sweet it is that Sokka finds a way to turn his test of manhood into a group project? To be clear, I think his greater motivation was the glory of greater achievement, but it's so very Sokka to find a way to include his sister.

That's pretty funny.

Wisdom is appropriate for Sokka. Bravery is appropriate for Katara, mostly because wisdom certainly isn't (*cough* Jet *cough*).

Interesting that it's Sokka who has a Katara-style blow up over the missing map. I definitely buy this. So soon after a very personal and important ritual that both connects them to their people and - by necessity - reminds them of who isn't there at the moment (dad), Sokka and Katara would both be sensitive to anything dad-related. Normally Katara is 100% ride or die for Aang, but pre-existing family is about the only exception I can think of that she would make for that policy.

"I'm an idiot Momo." YEP.

So the mole dog thing bashed the gate in, to turn in a circle and leave after ten seconds? Was that worth the headache caused by using your head as a battering ram? Especially when the very leapable wall was right there?

Side note, I would pay good money to be able to keep my hair as perfect and my makeup as unsmudged as this bounty hunter lady can, especially while doing extreme sports.

Lo and behold, he gets it. His dad told him he would get it someday. Kudos to Bato for the stealth teenage wrangling that prompted Sokka's epiphany. Bato didn't have to phrase his explanation of the wolf in a way that so paralleled the situation with Aang, but he chose to for a reason. I think Bato and Iroh should sit down for a drink and exchange stealth teenager wrangling tactics.

This is so perfect. Bato's not even their dad but he's Dadding so well! Letting them come to their own conclusions (with only a gentle nudge), respecting that decision and affirming that it's the right one by stating that their dad is 100% for sure super proud of what they're doing, then - the cherry on top - giving them a way to BOTH go with Aang AND see their dad if the opportunity presents. And then leaving a message at the rendezvous point as a last bit of long distance dadding.

Side note: I'm hoping Bato's bandages are cosmetic only, otherwise that backpack strap is going to be murder after half an hour.

Side side note: if Bato is walking to the rendezvous point, what happened to his ship?

How does the nun know about the necklace?

That poor gate gets no respect.

This mole dog thing sure is getting whipped a lot. I don't like that.

Pro tip: if your opponent has horns the size of a grown man and is looking for a headbutting contest, just walk away. Poor mole dog thing has no eyes, so he tragically can't see the horns and gets thoroughly curb stomped.

Would Aang really look this worried about fighting Zuko? He's come out on top one way or another in every fight they've had so far.

Some elements don't mix. Good to know.

Iroh. Forget about it. Bounty Hunter lady has extreme non-straight energy. Go for the fortuneteller instead.

Appa showing that he does not subscribe to Aang's pacifist philosophy. If the bounty hunter hadn't dodged she would have been a thin paste on Appa's paw.

I'm seeing lots of parallels in this fight. At one point Aang recycles Zuko's move, after they've switched so that Zuko is in Aang's original place. Neat.

I really know nothing about fight choreography, but this action is followable and entertaining, so I'm calling these fights good.

This episode's Beat Up Sokka quota is now fulfilled.

This well set piece is making me giggle.

You tell him Appa!

I get that they're the bad guys, but that poor mole dog thing can't catch a break. The trick with the perfume must have been distressing, if not also painful.

Skeezy. Knock it off.

I hope Zuko got a new clasp for that necklace while he had it.

Final Thoughts

Well, I finally got my long-desired Sokka episode. It contained less Sokka than I thought a Sokka episode would have. But I do feel like I have better insight into his character. The somewhat exaggerated attempts at manliness (followed up by a genuinely terrifying need to be the man of the tribe) of the first two episodes now have context. (I could include the Kyoshi Warriors episode in that statement too, but I felt Sokka wasn't in character that episode so I won't)

Sokka was told that he was too young (true) to join the men at war. Sokka being Sokka, what he heard was that he wasn't manly enough rather than wasn't old enough, hence the compensatory manliness at the start of the show. But, and this bit is probably more important now that Sokka is a certified man, Sokka also seems to define himself through serving others, particularly his sister. His dad tells him to protect his sister in the flashback; I think his grandmother said something similar to him when they left the south pole. Having your life's purpose 100% rooted outside of yourself is generally not a great idea. I pointed out a few episodes ago that Sokka has that classic teenage boy combination of soaring ego/crashing self-esteem; I now see why. Whatever his dad's and grandma's intentions in telling Sokka to look after his sister, Sokka has interpreted that request as becoming his sister's human shield, provider, brain/planner, and - if needed - sacrifice. Pretty hard to think too much of yourself when your life's work is to serve and die for another. This also explains why I keep seeing Katara outsourcing her thinking - she's basically been told to, and Sokka believes it's his duty.

I love Bato. I love his design, his voice, his purpose in the narrative. Excellent combination of worldbuilding, character work, and a light-hearted reminder that fun can still be had, even by grown ups who are actively fighting a war. My heart did a funny flip when I realised that I was being introduced to a responsible adult. That's how I know that I'm a proper grown-up: swooning at the notion of our main characters finally getting some caring adult supervision.

I love the family tidbits that Bato gives us. One throwaway line and we know that Sokka and his dad have the same sense of humour. Another half-referenced anecdote and we learn that Sokka's so-genius-it's-stupid manic tendencies, which are excellent at getting them all out of tight spots, are inherited or learned from a father who has similarly outlandish adventures pretty regularly. And it's such an effective story hook! Dangling small tidbits and noodle incidents leaves me wanting more.

Aang. Oh Aang. His problems this episode were self-inflicted, my least favourite type of narrative. I've gone hard in the past on Katara for her self-inflicted problems, so it's only fair I go hard on Aang too. If he had just behaved properly and not gone off in a sulk over being less than the centre of all attention for five whole minutes, he would have heard Sokka and Katara turn down the offer to see their father. But he just had to be an asshole for the first few minutes of the episode, and things snowballed from there.

That being said, all his actions from that point on do make perfect sense. 12 year old whose entire civilisation has been wiped out and who actually discovered his father figure's remains is NOT going to be ok with the idea of his remaining support system deserting him. Especially since the actions he took the last time his support system was threatened (running away) kind of inadvertently caused his support's system's extermination. Of course he's going to be irrational, to cling twice as hard to what he has left, by fair means or foul.

One thing I do like about Aang's otherwise dumbass behaviour is that he knows 100% that's it wrong to hide the map from the moment he does it. No initial self-justifications and gradual creeping doubts. He's doing wrong and he knows it. Shows he has a moral compass.

Zuko's plan of tracking the Avatar by Katara's necklace was solid, and he only lost because he's the villain in a kid's cartoon and is thus contractually obligated to lose. Iroh was not so great this episode.

I adored the Water tribe stuff. The intersecting fights at the end were very good. The Aang stuff was annoying, if understandable. And we'd already learned in previous episodes that Sokka and Katara were ride or die for Aang, which is the ultimate lesson here. It was interesting to learn that the breaking point for that statement is family, but other than that, no new info. I love this episode, but I would have loved it even more if it had more Sokka and Bato and less Aang.

I hope they went back and collected the map.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #bato of the water tribe #avatar the last airbender

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hk33b · 4 months

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headcanons of kuruk with his failed team avatar in the early years (no angst, no suffering, only peace and imagination …) (i forgot many canon wise things.. forgive and forget)

Jianzhu

• He’s Jianzhu’s first true friend, though he’d never admit that. Jianzhu understands Kuruk in a way others fail to. He sees the incredible things Kuruk does and the corrections he’s made upon teacher’s who are meant to be teaching him. It makes Jianzhu think that the Avatar’s greatness is inevitable. He wants to stay around and be a witness to it.

• One of the first things Kuruk came to learn about the young earthbender was that besides them being a year apart in age— he was very afraid of losing everything he worked for. In one of their many talks to pass the time after training, he admitted this. Kuruk tried to understand, using his status as the Avatar— ‘I’m scared to mess up. I don’t want to lose people’s faith in me,’ but Jianzhu shook his head, it wasn’t the same.

“You’re the Avatar. You have something to fall back on. The entire world opens their hand for you.”

And it’s such an intimate thing to learn about him. That he’s scared to lose who he is, what he owns, what his family built. [This ties into evil-old-man-Jianzhu who used his companionship with the late Avatar to his advantage. He’d do anything to maintain control and power; the fear of losing something that’s his stunts him]

• smart on their own, idiots when paired together.

•Kuruk was fired as a wingman for Jianzhu, he’d only been one once or twice, but both times were a shitshow. Jianzhu would try all the moves Kuruk taught him, even said a handful of cheesy lines that made his ears red to a person who caught his sights. And it was a bust, because they barely past a glance at him. No, because they were too busy staring at Kuruk.

“Maybe you aren’t doing it right, friend…”

“Oh, is that what it is.” Jianzhu barely hid the sarcasm dripping in his voice. Either Kuruk’s being polite, or he didn’t realize the problem in question was him! He’s handsome (DOWN).

• Jianzhu lost 10 times over while playing against Kuruk in Pai Sho. On the 11th rematch Kuruk pretends to make a faulty move for his friend’s sanity. Jianzhu knows its a pity win but takes it. He’s mostly amazed about the reckless moves Kuruk uses because it still aides him into victory!!?

“There’s just no way.” Jianzhu gasps, astonished. “Teach me how you did that,”

Kuruk laughs, “Ah. The student becomes the teacher.”

“On second thought...”

• They’re most likely to butt heads over trivial matters like similar folklores that their own nation has renditions of, but they think the other is ruining the story.

They’re all camped out, Kelsang fast asleep, and Jianzhu decides to tell Hei Ran a haunting tale she’s never heard of. Kuruk cuts him off once he’s halfway through the story.

Kuruk groans, “That is so not how it goes.”

Jianzhu snaps his head to the Avatar. “Yes it is?! She back talked to her mom six different times and turned into a lizard-snail for six weeks!”

“Uh. No! She didn’t accept her mother’s arranged marriage for her, so her mom cursed her into a lizard-snail until she did for six weeks! That’s why it’s called Mother’s Curse. Idiot.”

“That’s not—! What—! You…! Okay, let’s say that’s how it went. What would be the lesson? The whole point of Mother’s Curse is that the child shouldn’t have backed talk.”

“The whole point of Mother’s Curse is that the mother was evil, and didn’t care about what her daughter wanted?(???!) It’s to make kids appreciate how their parents wouldn’t do something sinister like that to them!”

“That… is the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

“YOU’RE STUPID.”

Safe to say that Hei Ran doesn’t stick around and goes to her tent, away from the idiots who continue to argue about who is more stupider.

•oh and during Kuruk’s hoe era Jianzhu turned a blind eye and said ‘well shit, he gotta do whatever he can to go about his day. Not my business.’

•silly silly silllllllly vibes. Silly. Ridiculous. One piece level of comedy.

•In conclusion … Jianzhu feels a deep connection with Kuruk. He’s amazed with him!! He believes this guy is the real deal, and its a honor to see what Kuruk could do or will be in the near future. Kuruk isn’t nervous by the blind faith Jianzhu has in him, it actually keeps him going. Friendship Is Magic…….

Song that remind me of their dynamic: It Wasn’t Me

Kelsang

• started off at a rocky start since Kuruk did try to steal his sky bison, but being around someone as silly as Kuruk became contagious. I imagine Kelsang laughing before Kuruk even got to the punchline, and this kinda drew the two together. There’s so much seriousness and rules and customs, it becomes tedious after a point, yet Kuruk makes it all so laughable …? Unserious? A sort of ‘what was I so worried about’ feeling. Childlike almost. FREE.

• Kuruk instantly got air bending in his first lessons from the air nomads, which fits due to his laid back go with the flow personality. He tries showing Kelsang random moves and ideas that keep popping off in his mind like rapid fire. Kelsang thinks it's... pretty impressive.

“This feels so much more different than the other elements. Everything is so… weightless. Are there any personal moves of yours that you’ve created?” Kuruk asked while balancing himself on an airball.

Kelsang shook his head no, confused. At this, Kuruk immediately got up and starting flailing his hands around, creating motion. “Oo! I wanna show you this idea that I haven't shown anyone besides like-- Jianzhu. I think it could really be helpful!

As he demonstrates a peculiar airbending maneuver with ease, Kelsang stands up straight, in awe. Maybe he had judged him too quickly.

• because of his height and rather serious resting face, Kelsang can come across as intimidating, but that is all destroyed by seeing him with Kuruk, he looks his age and more approachable. Kuruk calls him baldy as a nickname, to tease. Kelsang occasionally answers back with ‘pretty boy’, because, *drops hands* well, that’s what #they keep telling us about him.

• It is my personal belief that out of all of them, Kelsang is who Kuruk would’ve confessed to about the spirits. Not that he would ask him for help or go into the exact details of what its doing to his body, but in a complete what-if scenario,,,, the air nomad would have the words that could reassure Kuruk of this enormous responsibility he feels on the daily. [Remember, Kuruk ran into Kelsang with his poem he had written for Hei Ran. It’s less humiliating and less shameful seeking the air nomad out for matters that he can’t hold inside anymore. There’s never judgement. Maybe a shared fear? A frantic voice that could tell Kuruk right from wrong, in his best way. Never judgement.]

• okay i lied a little angst just this once DAMN… So as we know. Everyone who mattered in Kuruk’s life felt this enormous guilt that they failed him somehow. I like to believe that finding Kuruk in his next life, being a parental figure for Kyoshi, loving her like a father would love their own— while believing Yun was the next Avatar. Not realizing until she read Kuruk's poem word for word. To learn that he had still managed to bridge this connection with his old friend again. Without even intentionally doing so? Without even KNOWING. I think the weight of his failures as a companion left right then. Because he made up for it. Whatever it is he believed he lacked in, he pulled through for his final moments with Kyoshi. Not that Kuruk's spirit ever held blame for Kelsang. It’s just so interesting because we know the whole: do you really think friendships could last more than one lifetime? but they usually know who their deceased friend is in their next life. (((Kelsang you reallll as hell. Idc about the typhoon shit, YOU ARE REALLLLLL.))))

song that reminds me of them : Lean On Me

Hei-Ran

• Kuruk doesn’t know when to shut up around Hei Ran, he’s kind of … obsessed. Loser-lover-boy.

• Hei Ran thought of him slightly childish, but overtime, similarly to Kelsang, the atmosphere around Kuruk was drawing her in. There was something contagious about the northern water tribe boy.

While teaching him how to firebend, she wasn’t really surprised that he’d have such difficulty with it. His personality didn’t really mesh with what it would take to punch and kick out bursts of flames. Kuruk’s kind of frustrated with himself because he was getting the hang of all the elements with little to no effort, and here he was in front of the beautiful Hei Ran of all people, huffing and puffing because small smoke was all that emits from his inner flame.

Hei Ran does one last command, tells him to let the fire in him erupt, to let the flame in him out, (don’t you want to go ape shit ? essentially) and finally something clicks within Kuruk and he’s firebending in front of the best firebender he knows.

“I did it! I really did it!”

“Good job, though there’s gonna be many more lessons for you to learn, so don’t get too ahead of— And he’s burning down a tree.”

��Hei Ran! Help!”

• Kuruk likes to stay behind during their group walks to other villages because Hei Ran is usually there walking gracefully behind Kelsang and Jianzhu. She eyes Kuruk suspiciously, wondering what he’s up to. Its a game they play, where he says something to see if he can get that overly serious no-funny-business wall of hers to crack, get her to smile or laugh or even tell him off. All three works most times, and for the other, she holds a set stare ahead and Kuruk grumbles, giving up his charade and walking besides her in silence. Missing the slight tilted ends of pink lips. She likes seeing him try so hard, the dude never knew what it was like to try to win someone over. Is this what Jianzhu feels?

• He’s a great listener. Hei Ran can talk and talk and talk, and he’d retain it all. It makes her feel good. That someone cares, that Kuruk is genuine and (corny alert) wears his heart on his sleeves. She wants to protect him. She wants to know everything about him, and so he tells her everything. There’s this earnest about Kuruk. He doesn’t hide from her. He doesn’t deceive her. She can read him so well, and in turn, so does he.

•Hei Ran never imagined she’d be friends with someone like Kuruk, recalling her bit harsh judgement, but now she can’t imagine knowing anyone else. A part of her yearns to stay by his side. And Kuruk feels like he’s on cloud nine whenever Hei Ran so much as scoffs at his lame mannerisms. His heart thuds, hands clammy, lips forever smiling.

•They’re laying down on a field of grass, watching the sky in an array of pretty colors as the sun sets over the horizon; Kuruk insisted they catch a break after all the firebending training.

“My folks really want to meet you.” Kuruk says.

“You talk about me to them?” Hei Ran tries to keep her tone leveled, but her heartbeat picks up, fiddling around a strand of Kuruk’s hair on her finger.

“Yeah. Maybe too much. Not enough if you ask me.”

“I’d love to meet them. When should we?”

“Hopefully soon, it’s not freezing cold around this time of year. Heh, I can’t imagine you near snow. You’d look so out of place,” he laughs, eyes crinkling. Hei Ran fought off laughing along for dignity sake.

“Please. You make it sound like I’m gonna freeze and die.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll hug you the entire way there. I won’t let you catch a cold or anything, just stick beside me and—” Kuruk reached for her, face ridiculously close, lips puckered up and leaning. Hei Ran rolled her eyes at this lame show, shoving him away. He burst into a fit of laughter.

Hei Ran turned her attention back to the endless sky while his laughter faded in the background. Going to the Northern Water Tribe. Meeting Kuruk’s family. It’ll be an honor to meet the people who shaped him and made him what he is.

song that reminds me of them : >\\\< You Don’t Know My Name

#failed team avatar #i was gonna be a dickhead and write about how hei ran never got to meet his family or anything bc kuruk starts messing around with other pp #i mean they werent official or anything but it still kills her… men amirite #jianzhu #i bet ur wondering where the jianruk crumbs are… *pearl voice* IM MARRIEDDDD #yall don’t understand i love friendship so much that i make it gay. but i wont ever erase it from its original purpose… platonic hive rise #kelsang #kels… im so sadddddd #u know jianzhu calls him kels? makes u think #ahhhhh #long ass post #avatar kuruk

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theresnohopelivinghere · 1 year

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The Journal of Emme Walker, May 2019

If you walk the streets at night in Hope, there will be no hope for you.

My grandparents used to tell me that all the time when I was a little girl. Even from a young age, I never took it seriously. I was a prideful child. I thought I was invincible and that nothing could take me down. That’s probably why my mom, bless her heart, had such a hard time coming to terms with my rampant curiosity and my thirst for adventure. But my grandparents would not be deterred from scaring some sense into me.

The thing about rural towns is that people love to make up stories about them to make them seem more interesting or just to pass the time. Hope is no different. It was once an out-of-the-way town out by the sea, in the middle of nowhere. I’m talking about dusty roads, ample farming, spotty local transportation, stores that looked like they came straight out of a black-and-white film, and older residents living the last of their lives in the one place they’ve always called “home”.

It used to be that I’d just spend my summers there with my grandparents, helping out with their garden while partaking of the harvest. But after my dad died, my mom moved back there and I went to school there from grades 4 to 6. We moved before the development push. She was offered a cushy job in a city she'd always wanted to live in that would allow the two of us to live comfortably into the foreseeable future. A get-out-of-rural-jail card, if you will.

Seriously. According to her, it was our one escape out of a town that had proven itself to be anything but idyllic. If she hadn't taken it...well, things would be very different.

She's not a fan of me going back there to interview people for my dissertation. Which is funny because growing up, she'd tell off my grandparents whenever they'd tell me all the stories about all the terrible monsters that lurked within the town of Hope. All the old folks in town had their own stories about what happened to children if they stayed out too late at night or didn't trust their intuition. Mom didn't believe in using scary stories to ensure that kids behaved themselves. She told me that if she wanted me to behave myself and be a good girl, she’d just say so. But my grandparents wouldn’t listen. They insisted on me telling me these tales so that I could protect myself. Because there were too many instances of children who disappeared because they weren't warned properly.

I'm glad they did. Mom won't admit it, but she's glad, too. And yet here I am, on my way back to that town, ready to hear the stories of the children who didn't escape from the elders that still remain. Hope may be different now - young families moved in to take their place and brought with them the promise for gentrification. Shopping, entertainment, the town holds its own. The local elementary school is top notch and so is the high school. There’s train service that links up to the other parts of town as well as the bigger cities, and paved roads that get you to the highway system. You can go everywhere now.

And yet...

I know studying modern folklore and urban legends in the town of her birth won't get me a cushy job in a corporate office but this is something I want to do. Have to do, even. The tale of a seaside town plagued with paranormal activity, rumored to be once started by and controlled by a mysterious cult who swore allegiance to malicious entity who has been around since time immemorial until one they just disappeared - it's all very juicy stuff.

I’m not sure what I'm doing with all this. Why I'm going back. Everyone says if you brush against the shadows of Hope and survive, you should never come back. But that's why I have to. Come back. If there’s one thing that living in Hope has taught me, it’s that old habits die hard and old legends never die. I can feel the shadows stirring again, unhappy that they've been forgotten. They want the people to remember...to fear their power. I can feel the chill in my bones, and the terror squeezes my heart like a vice. I don't know what I'm trying accomplish, but I know I have to do something. For my mother and my grandparents. And for the children who couldn't escape the shadows.

Including the boy I loved.

#creative writing #prologue #abandonxhope #my fic #horror fiction #web series

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ofhexes · 2 years

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woah , i think i just saw SIRIUS BLACK ! there’s been so much happening lately that i totally forgot about the PUREBLOOD but i am glad to see HE/HIM still around . they always had wanted to be A BAR OWNER , i wonder how that’s going. the last i heard about them was that they might be involved with ORDER OF THE PHOENIX , but i’m not sure how true that is. besides, they always seemed LOYAL and DETERMINED . although , now that i think about it they were also HOT HEADED and IMPULSIVE . still the GRYFFINDOR alum always reminded me of I KNOW WHAT I AM by BAND OF SKULLS and SITTING LOOK OUT INTO THE RAIN ON A COLD WINTER NIGHT, THE SMELL OF LEATHER AND CIGARETTES, A FORCED SMILE ON THE FACE OF SOMEONE TRYING TO CONCEAL A SHATTERED HEART AND BROKEN SPIRIT . i hope they haven’t changed too much !

full name: sirius orion black

nickname(s): siri, padfoot

fc: deaken bluman

dob: 2nd november

age: 21

gender: male

sexuality: pansexual

house: gryffindor

blood status: pureblood

patronus: a black dog, the same as his animagus form

occupation: owner of a bar called ‘The Grim’ in London

side: the order

bio:

born on november 1st to orion and walburga black, sirius was privileged since birth. being the heir to one of the more respected pureblood families meant that there was a giant weight on his shoulders and he felt that from a very young age. ever since he could talk he was told how to act and what was respectable behaviour in his parent’s eyes. he never really got the chance to be a child. but he never really blamed his parents for that. he blamed the traditions that came with being a pureblood. he hated the coldness of it all. all he really craved for was affection, though he barely got any.

but he tried his best to stay out of trouble and keep himself in line. even as he sat at family events bored out his mind he knew better than to misbehave. it wasn’t worth his mother’s wrath or his fathers disapproving look. he was a fairly quiet kid. other than a few snarky remarks here and there he really didn’t give his parents a reason to believe he would be anything other than the perfect heir they were raising him to be.

it was exceptionally lonely, however. other than his brother and his cousins he didn’t have that many friends. and living at grimmauld place was extremely isolating. he couldn’t just go out and play with the nearby kids cause they were “filthy muggles” according to his mother. some might question why his family choose to live beside muggles if they were apparently beneath them but sirius never did. so he spent his time in the library reading and teaching himself spells.

growing up his father was the person he looked up to the most. he loved spending time with him. and his main goal when he was little was to hear his father say he was proud of him.

he never did.

having spent most of his younger years surrounded by pureblood that all had the same beliefs on purity as his parents sirius’s view on others was somewhat swayed by them. but, as he grew older, he started to question why exactly where they better than others? yes, their blood was more “pure” but he didn’t really understand why that made them any superior. he spent more of his free time reading and a lot of the books he read were by half-bloods or muggle-borns and they seemed just as intelligent as any pureblood he knew. it was confusing to him. but he made sure to never question it out loud.

sirius’ first day at hogwarts was both the best and worst day of his life.

it was the best day because he met three people that would soon mean the world to him: james potter, remus lupin, and peter pettigrew. all three of them would play an important part in how sirius became who he ultimately was supposed to be. they taught him there was more to life than pureblood galas and acting like the respectable pureblood male who’s only job in life is to make sure he carries on the family name. they taught him to have fun, they brought out his mischievous side and brought him out of his shell. some might argue that sirius becoming more confident is a bad thing. but sirius wouldn’t change it for the world.

it was the worst day because he got sorted into gryffindor.

he knew from the second the hat shouted out gryffindor that he was in trouble. he couldn’t remember a member of his family that wasn’t in slytherin and so he had made his way to the lion’s table with trembling hands. he had hoped he would have at least some time to deal with the sorting on his own. but the very next morning he had a letter from his mother saying how this must be a mistake. that he doesn’t belong in gryffindor and that they would sort it. but, deep down he knew he did belong there. deep down he knew he wouldn’t fit in with the other slytherin’s, he just didn’t want to admit it. and so he had ignored the letter and when mcgonogal had spoken to him about it the next day he told her everything was fine and he was happy being in gryffindor.

he sometimes regretted that decision even to this day.

something seemed to change in sirius’s mind the longer he was at hogwarts. the more time he spent with other wizard and witches from different backgrounds the more he realised that his families views were ridiculous. and with the war brewing, he knew he’d have an important choice on his hands. he’d have to choose between the friends he has made and the family that could destroy him if he left.

the choice came the summer before the start of his sixth year. his parents had finally had enough of his antics and sat him down to tell him they had decided he was to join the death eaters and finally make them proud. he was told that voldemort would be happy to have the black heir on his side and that he would be joining the war on his side. for the first time in his life, sirius was terrified. and he didn’t even think before he left in the middle of the night with just a bag of clothes and the money he had hidden in his room. he ran away in the night without a single world to anyone.

he never wanted to leave his family behind. especially not his brother. but he didn’t have a choice. he couldn’t be who they wanted him to be. he couldn’t follow down the path they had taken. he loved them but that just wasn’t enough. the war was wrong. and he could never stand on the side that harmed others just for existing. even if it broke a part of him to leave.

he never told anyone exactly why he had run away. though he had told his friends enough about his parents, and family in general, that he allowed them to come to their own conclusions and he doesn’t deny anything. but even though he felt resentment for those he was meant to call family and how he was treated in the end he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone the truth. that betrayal was too much for him. and he didn’t want anyone knowing that his family were so lost in the wrong side they had officially joined the dark lords fight. he still had enough family pride to not let anyone go into azkaban just for his spite. he loved them too much to see them suffer. maybe he shouldn’t. but he couldn’t turn off that side of him.

part of him resented the war the most for driving him apart from his family.

his main goal now is to just move past everything and get on with his own life for the first time ever. he wants to fight for those that deserve a place in this world. he wants to prove that he is more than just his last name. so he used the money that his uncle alphard had left him after his passing to open up his own bar and create a space where everyone was welcome. he didn’t care if who walked through that door was a pureblood or a muggleborn, as long as they behaved and wanted a drink they were welcome. and it was a job much better suited to him than a ministry job would ever have been.

some wanted connections:

friends - other than the marauders obvs

sibling-like relationships

family friend - could still be on good terms or they could have heard of sirius’ disowning and turn their backs on him too

unlikely friendship - could be that they have been friends since they were little and even though they are polar opposites they just get on so well that they can’t not be friends

family members that don’t hate him are always a win

enemy - they have never gotten along and they will never get along and both are okay with this

frenemy - they hate each other but they are also kinda cool and if they hung out that would be awesome????

anything angsty tbh

#sirius:inspo #sirius:intro #sirius:wantedconnections #mhq:intro

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keeply · 2 years

Text

I absolutely love this story........ It made me cry. Very touching.

"An 87 Year Old College Student Named Rose

The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn’t already know.

I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned round to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me

with a smile that lit up her entire being.

She said, “Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I’m eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?”

I laughed and enthusiastically responded, “Of course you may!” and she gave me a giant squeeze.

“Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?” I asked.

She jokingly replied, “I’m here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids…”

“No seriously,” I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.

“I always dreamed of having a college education and now I’m getting one!” she told me.

After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the

next three months, we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this “time machine”

as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I’ll never forget what she taught us. She was

introduced and stepped up to the podium.

As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, “I’m sorry I’m so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I’ll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell

you what I know.”

As we laughed she cleared her throat and began, “We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop

playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day.

You’ve got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die.

We have so many people walking around who are dead and don’t even know it!There is a huge difference between growing

older and growing up.

If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don’t do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old.

If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.

Anybody can grow older. That doesn’t take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change.

Have no regrets.

The elderly usually don’t have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those

with regrets.”

She concluded her speech by courageously singing “The Rose.”

She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.

At the year’s end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died

peacefully in her sleep.

Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it’s

never too late to be all you can possibly be .When you finish reading this, please send this peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they’ll really enjoy it!

These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.

REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS

OPTIONAL.

We make a Living by what we get, We make a Life by what we give."

#amazing #stories #heart warming

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kiwizuku · 3 years

Text

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ pairing ;; established! izuocha x fem! afab! reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ content warnings ;; smut, pro hero au, quirkless! kindergarden teacher! au, polyamory, established relationships, age difference, (slight) power imbalance, hero worship, degradation, sir/ma'am, milf! ochako, dilf! izuku, dom! izuocha, very submissive reader, threesome, oral (f!receiving)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ notes ;; i've never really seen izuocha x reader and this just came into my head. please leave a comment, reblog or follow if you enjoy! <3

THANK YOU FOR 100+ FOLLOWERS!!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

"Bye!" You call out to the couple, the child next to them turning and giving you a hug as you kneel. "I'll see you tomorrow," you whisper in the kid's ear, the young girl giving a small giggle and nod in response before running up to take her father's hand.

As the door closes behind them, you jump back up into a standing position.

Exhaling deeply, you go to sit at your desk. Checking the time table once, twice -- and with a sigh, you relax into your seat further.

One more interview. It's just past nine, so it's fairly late for a school night, but it made sense to fit everyone in on the same night. You only has just over twenty kids to deal with, anyways.

Looking around the room, everything feels... different in the darkened light. Of course you have the overhead lights on, the orange hue almost nostalgia in the way it reminds you of staying up too late in the living room, your parents watching late night tv.

The walls are decorated with educational posters -- the pretty kind, not the bubbly lettered eyesores -- and artwork the kids have made.

It feels... homely. It's a shared space, so clearly appreciated and loved by you and your kids. Even though you're just in your mid-twenties, you've quickly become accustomed to your new job. You loved it, almost as much as you loved the kids you taught.

...Especially the one you would be seeing in about five minutes.

Aiko Midoriya was a ball of energy. She was always more than happy to help clean up, brighten fellow students' days, and was mature enough to hold a proper conversation with you.

Incredibly intelligent, you always gave her extra work to keep her busy.

Which gave you some reason to be so excited to meet her parents. She had mentioned that she loved them, wished to be like them, but had never specified what they did or even what they looked like.

A knock on the classroom door breaks you from your thoughts, making you scramble out of your seat and rush to the door, straightening yourself up ever so slightly before opening the door with a wide smile.

"Hi! I'm Miss. L/N, it's great--"

You choke, only after having started your spiel realising who exactly was standing in front of you.

Number One and Four heroes Deku and Uravity.

Placing a hand over your mouth, you try to ignore the heat in your cheeks. God. You were not expecting your teenage wet-dreams to be the parents interviewing you. Shit. Fuck. Every curse you never said because you worked with children flooded your mind.

"Sorry," you chuckle nervously, looking away from them bashfully. "This is quite unprofessional of me, I just wasn't expecting you two to be at my door this evening!"

"It's okay!" Uravity's sweet yet mature voice responds, and as you meet her eyes, she gives you a kind smile. "We're used to it, don't worry!"

She's breathlessly attractive as she speaks. Adorning her signature bob, her white silk top seems so elegant paired with her long black skirt. Fancy.

Your gaze flickers to Deku, then. His hair has grown out, the tips reaching just below his ears in a roguishly attractive way.

Were they your sexual awakening?

Maybe.

But that didn't mean anything, and it certainly didn't mean that you were going to treat them as anything but the parents of a student.

"Thank you," you bow slightly, before giving them a softer smile and leading them to your desk. They take a seat on the soft couch in front of you.

Folding your hands in front of you, you give them both an earnest look.

"Look. I'm going to cut right to the chase." The heroes share a look, one of worry, before looking back to you. God, the lights shone on their features so nicely.

You realise, then, with a halt, that there is no Aiko.

"Um," you falter, embarrassingly looking around the room for the girl. "Where is Aiko...?"

Deku huffs a laugh under his breath. "Sorry, Miss L/N. We forgot to mention that she was with her grandmother -- we'd rather talk to you without Aiko here, if that's okay."

His voice is gentle but rough, and it sends shivers down your spine. With a slight nod, you shake your head and try to get back on track.

"Ah. Right. Well, knowing that Aiko isn't here, I'm going to be extremely honest." You pause. "This is my first class, ever, and Aiko has been nothing but an angel. She's helped me with the students, and her personality is nothing short of integrity and respect. You both should be so proud of her; I most certainly am."

There's silence.

Maybe you shouldn't have been so quick to express your fondness for Aiko, but it had been done now.

You watch as Uravity and Deku share a conversation with their eyes alone. Memories flood back -- when you were in kindergarten, watching the sports festival and seeing them fighting so well.

Having been taken to them instantly, you grew up admiring and idolising the two.

And when they had announced their marriage, when you had been in high school? You were over the moon.

But...

But, you had never really imagined you'd meet them in real life. This felt like a personally hand-wrapped gift from Heaven.

Uravity clears her throat. You try to ignore how she's holding Deku's hand in her lap intimately. "Well, Miss. L/N, as parents, we're so happy that you have such good opinions on our daughter."

She gives Deku a look, before snapping her hazel eyes back to yours. "As for you, we've never seen Aiko happier. Every night at the dinner table she's ranting about how much she loves her class, and most importantly, you."

You blink.

"Really, for a first time teacher, you've completely mesmerised our child," Deku continues for Uravity. "And we are beyond grateful for your role in Aiko's life."

Silence fills the emptiness after his words end.

You can feel tears in the back of your eyes. To hear such kind and heartfelt words from your idols -- about your passion, your career -- it seems like too much all at once.

"I--" you swallow, looking down at your hands shyly as you rub at them, "I really don't know what to say. Thank you. You wo have made such a large impact on my life. To hear that from Uravity and Deku--"

Uravity interrupts. "Midoriya. I think we'd prefer that."

Your cheeks heat. "Ah, Mr. Midoriya and Mrs Midoriya. Sorry." The names come out stilted, odd -- it would take some getting used to.

"Don't apologise," Mr. Midoriya says softly, and you're quick to reply on reflex.

"Sorry."

The three of you chuckle, and it isn't awkward. It feels oddly natural, and you're not quite sure how to feel about it.

"I love how you've decorated the room," Mrs. Midoriya comments off-handedly. Her eyes trail over the art and posters around the room, as well as the cushions and overall comfi-ness. The corners are darker, the light mainly decorating your desk and the entry way.

It's nice.

"Thank you," you say softly, looking away with a bit of heat in your cheeks. As you look away, at the papers on your desk, you don't notice the tense look the couple share.

Mr. Midoriya clears his throat, directing your attention back to him. He smiles. "We just had a few more questions, Miss. L/N."

You nod, getting more comfortable in your chair. If you were to guess, you were already five minutes over time. But... with it being the last session, a bit longer couldn't hurt.

Across from you, Mrs. Midoriya crosses one leg over the other. You try not to look at the rise of her skirt, and how it brushes over the middle of her thigh.

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

Raising a brow at the question, you can feel your palms grow a bit clammy. "Um. Twenty-three."

You knew that they were in their mid-thirties. Maybe that was part of the pull, the draw.

Mr. Midoriya's gaze burns as it trails your body. Emerald meets yours.

"For your age, you're certainly a memorable teacher. I can't wait to see what... experience does for you." And oh, god, it shouldn't have felt so dirty as it did coming from those lips. Fucking hell, you feel shame burn white-hot through your veins with the first twitch of your core.

You gulp.

"Ah, th -- thank you, Mr. Midoriya." You don't mean to stutter, but the tension feels as though it's increased tenfold.

Mrs. Midoriya's gaze falls to your lips. And you can tell, and that's the worst part -- were you just imagining it? Were you really? Because surely --

She sighs, low and drawn out. You track the slide of her tongue against her plump lower lip.

"Do you know..." she pauses, looking back to your eyes with a raised brow, "What people in a lower position call their superiors?"

Your mouth feels dry. Your lower regions feel very much the opposite.

"I, uhm, usually Mr. or Ms. whatever? Would you," you play with the rings adorning your fingers, looking at the reasonably healthy potted plant on your desk. "Would you prefer something else?"

"Sir," Mr. Midoriya says instantly. You blink.

"S -- Sir?" You choke, eyes wide and shocked. Your hands clench at the side of the desk.

He tilts his head. His legs are spread, and he leans further forward, arm resting on the expanse of those thighs. "Sir."

Beside him, Mrs. Midoriya hums, placing a well-manicured hand at the scruff of his head. She gives you a knowing, and very pleased look, as she lets the tile fall off of her tongue. "Ma'am."

"I -- I'm not sure if that's appropriate for our current relationship--" you start, before being cut off by Mr. Midoriya.

"Like you have been thinking of appropriate things during this meeting. Did you think we were blind? We've noticed you drooling all over us since you opened the door, pet."

Your breath hitches, and this all suddenly feels a bit too much like a dream.

Blinking, your hands anxiously playing with each other, you stand out of your seat lightning quick. The couple both flinch, slightly, at the sudden movement.

"It's well past the finish time of our meeting, and while this still feels like one of the best moments of my life, I really don't think this is okay."

The words tumble out of your mouth, and as you walk to the door, you don't notice a pair of footsteps close behind you.

As you go to open the door, a pretty, but extremely strong hand slams it shut again. The air around you suspiciously smells like floral, fruity perfume.

"Do you really want us to leave, pretty?" And it's her -- her voice is like heaven, so sweet and subtle while promising so many things at once.

You let out a small whimper, turning around softly to meet her hazel eyes.

Her thigh instantly manoeuvres its way between your legs, shoving you fully against the wall. You accidentally moan behind your lips, eyes shutting tight in the sudden jolt of ecstasy.

"If you don't want to do this, sweetheart, then you don't have to. We won't force you." And now it's his voice, deep but kind and hot and so goddamn attractive you melt further into the door. You shake your head lightly.

"No?" Uravity asks, her lips now brushing your ear. Shivers roll down your spine. "No, you don't want to? You have to be more vocal, dear."

You squirm against her thigh, and then a scarred hand is quick to grab both of your wrists and pull them above your head. "Answer her. Use that pretty head of yours, we know it's smart."

Pondering the statement, stuck between a mix of cloudiness and clarity, you mutter those key words. "Please. I... want to."

"That's a good girl," Uravity's voice whispers, and your core tightens up further.

"Mrs. Mido--"

You're cut off by another hand reaching to grab a handful of your hair, then pulling with no warning. At that same moment, the thigh between your legs jolts up, and you nearly cum on the spot.

"What were you about to call me?"

You choke on some spit, eyes watering at the sudden pressure on your scalp. "M-Ma'am," you acquiesce in exasperation. "Ma'am."

Ma'am tuts, and the fist in your hair loosens its grip. "That's better. You're too precious -- so eager to please."

Her thigh is so hot, and it's almost embarrassing -- you're certain that she can feel you leaking through your panties.

Sir, moving his large hand tantalizingly slow, reaches for the hem of your skirt and pulls it up. He snorts, patronizingly, before gazing at you with lust-filled eyes and a mean smirk.

"What's this?" His other hand, now letting go of your wrists, draws a line through the fabric. All thoughts leave your mind as it trails along your slit. "Is our baby girl excited?"

You can't control the movement of your hips, chasing for more friction on both the thigh and finger at your core.

Ma'am tilts her head, bumping her thigh up even further with a sinfully sweet smirk.

"Certainly looks like it. How long d'you think she's been dreaming of this?"

You choke back a moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Deku's fingers reached your clit, rubbing harshly against the nub. It was too fucking good, all at once.

"Ah! Fuck! Please don't stop!" You whined, tears properly flowing down your cheeks at the stimulation.

Just as you were on the cliff edge, so fucking close to falling, the pressure from both the thigh and hand is taken away. It's like a bucket of ice cold water being dumped on you.

Without Uravity's thigh to support your weight, nor the strength in your weak knees, you slump to the floor pathetically.

Sir's hand pats at your head as you lay at their feet, kneeling down to massage your scalp.

It's simultaneously heaven and hell.

Heaven, because it feels so good compared to the harsh pulling from before.

Hell, because it feels so patronising and... domineering.

"Babe," you hear Deku murmur, pulling Uravity around to whisper in her ear. Her eyes grow even more lidded, haziness taking over further.

She whispers back an affirmative, before sinking to the floor beside you.

Her glossed lips press a kiss against your tear-stained cheek, and by her slight wince, you think that she got a taste of some of your eyeliner that had leaked.

"Hands and knees, pretty," she says against your ear, just brushing it, and sending shivers down your spine.

Moving around, you shuffle so that your ass was in the air, your elbows and knees supporting your body. It was extremely embarrassing, but something about it only heightened your arousal.

Deku hums, placing a warm hand against your clothed ass-cheek. "That's a good girl. Here's what we're gonna do. You have to eat 'Chako out, and whenever you stop..."

He grips your panties, before using his pure strength to rip them in half. He revels in your muffled squeak of surprise.

"I will too."

That's the only warning you get before you feel a tongue at your core, relentless and sloppy as he immediately targets your clit.

Uravity moves so that she sits in front of you, panties off as she pulls you closer to her by the scruff of your neck. You groan, before looking up at her with teary eyes and giving a small, unsure lick.

She sighs, clearly pleased, before shuffling closer.

You slowly grow braver with your licks -- broader stripes, sometimes going into her twitching hole.

All the while, the vibrations from your constant moaning and whimpers cause Uravity to grab at your hair and pull harder. It was something you all seemed like you thoroughly enjoyed.

Deku, all the while, had brought his fingers in to play, switching between thrusting uncaringly with them, to playing with your clit while he licked at your folds.

At this point, after your previous denial, you were so close.

Without thinking, you pull away from Uravity's cunt in tears, whining petulantly.

"Please, please, please don't stop -- 'm so close -- right there, thank you --"

And on the brink, Deku moves away again.

It feels like the world is fuzzy around you, turned in on itself as you tried to fathom why Sir would do such a thing.

His hand grips your ass painfully, although it was nice knowing that you'd have a bruise to remind yourself that it wasn't just another hyper-realistic dream.

"What did I say?" His voice is cold, commanding -- the kind he'd use against a villain. It only proves to drive you more insane.

"No, no, no, why would you do that, why--" Your sobs are mere music to the couple's ears, who share a look -- you'd have your next one, and then you'd all need to clean up, and even more importantly, talk.

"What did he say? We won't ask again, pet." It's Uravity who speaks this time, and her voice is like Deku's in that way of dehumanizing.

"I- If I stop," you hiccup, "He stops."

"Good. So keep going if you want that pleasure, mk, gorgeous?" Deku soothes, his grip no longer tight as he rubs at the mark left behind. When he sees you nod, with a malicious grin, he dives back in, no holds barred.

You immediately go back to Uravity, whose thighs are now tightened around your head. It makes you dizzy, but you continue anyway, the pleasure far too great to pay attention.

Everything builds up much more quickly, now, and you reach your climax embarrassingly quick.

A constant litany of words escape your lips as you feel Uravity's moans get higher and higher, her thighs tightening and her grip on your hair, too.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She squeaks out, fully humping your face now. "Good girl, so good, so close -- there!"

You feel her orgasm at the same time you do, and it almost feels like your sense of time completely goes away.

It's as if you're fading away at the edges, pure bliss like cotton in your head.

When you come to, you find yourself against a warm, cushiony chest.

Opening your eyes, you meet soft brown ones. Uravity smiles down at you, stroking a hand through your hair. "Hey, sweetheart. You feeling better?"

You nod, nuzzling further into her collarbone. It's that or facing the harsh realities and repercussions of what had just happened.

"'Zuku's cleaning up. To be honest, I hadn't expected an interview with my child's teacher to end in me fucking her in a classroom."

You feel heat in your cheeks at the wording.

Moving so you can see around you, albeit with bleary eyes, you catch onto Deku. He chucks some wipes into the bin, before catching your gaze and smiling at you softly.

"Hey, beautiful," he says, walking back over and sitting next to the two of you.

"...Hey," you say slowly, nervousness creeping into your veins. Post nut clarity was frightening, you were learning.

You all share a sigh.

"We need to talk," Uravity says, and you know that you do. Because of course you had to -- this was a big deal.

With a nervous, but wobbly smile, you nod.

"Yeah. We do."

1K notes · View notes

sehunniepotwrites · 3 years

Note

I think you'd nail a single dad!johnny fic

title: puzzle piece pairing: single dad!johnny x preschool teacher!reader genre: fluff, strangers to lovers wc: 1.2k

a/n: angel, you're out to kill me, aren't you? single dad!johnny who loves his kid and would do anything in the whole wide world to make his baby happy. eye-- *bangs head on wall*

if i were to continue this, y/n would be the missing puzzle piece that would complete their little family so uwu but i was honestly planning on writing something similar to this plot but the other way around

IT WAS 5:15PM.

Your workday was supposed to end fifteen minutes ago. But the world had other plans for you. You were forced into overtime because one student hadn't been picked up yet. Although these things annoyed you to no end every single time it happened, there was no other choice but to stay.

After making sure the little girl was still in your view, you began to dial her mother's number. It was her turn to pick up her child today, her father told you last week.

It must be so hard to deal with her parents split at such a young age, you thought to yourself, as you pressed the classroom phone to your ear. Five rings later and her mother didn't pick up. You sighed and rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands. It was frustrating in times like these when the parents and guardians were not within reach.

"Did mommy forget about me again?" A small voice came from beside you. You turned to see little Minyoung Suh's face forming a pout, tears ready to fall from her pretty eyes.

Again. That's the word that hurt the most. This wasn't the first time her mother had forgotten to pick her up. You held back your surge of anger. How could anyone forget about their own child?

Scooping up the three-year-old in your arms, you allowed her to wrap her arms around your neck. Her head rested against the junction of your shoulder as you shifted in your office chair. "I don't think so, buddy, but let's call your daddy just in case, okay?"

Minyoung's tiny sniffles broke your heart even more. "Otay."

You dialed her father's number and immediately put it on speaker as it rang. Hearing her father's voice might have a positive effect on his daughter's mood. She was always so happy to see him.

He picked up on the third ring. "This is John speaking."

"Daddy?" Minyoung immediately replied.

You could hear the puzzled tone as Johnny replied, "Princess?"

"Hi, John. This is Miss Y/N from the preschool. I’ve put you on speakerphone so your daughter can hear you too."

"Oh, yes, hi there, Miss Y/N. And I've told you a million times, Johnny's just fine. Is everything okay?"

"Right, Johnny." A gradual heat took over your cheeks and ears. Having a crush on one of your student's fathers was not the best situation to be in but here you were, acting like a pathetic school girl. "So sorry to call you at this time, especially when it's not your week to pick Minyoung up. But her mother hasn't called to say she would be running late. I've tried to reach her several times but no one picked up and it's already past closing," you immediately relayed, pushing your thoughts aside.

You heard him curse through the phone before the sound of his voice was replaced by muffled noises.

"Daddy, you told me that's not a good word!" Minyoung yelled over the phone and you giggled at her reaction. He taught his child well.

"You're right, I'm sorry, baby!" He laughed in a sweet tone. His voice immediately changed when he began to address you, "I'm so sorry about this, Miss Y/N. I'll talk to her mother about this later. I know this isn't the first time she's done it."

"It's not your fault, Johnny," you reassured him, immediately sensing the frustration in his words.

"I'm leaving work right now. It'll take me twenty minutes at most to get there. Is that alright?"

"That's perfectly fine, Johnny. We'll see you then." Bouncing the toddler in your lap, you asked if she wanted to say bye to her father.

"Bye, Daddy!"

"I'll see you soon, baby. I love you."

Your heart warmed at the soft voice Mr. Suh reserved for his daughter. Minyoung was his everything, that you could easily tell. She was also his little mini-me. With the same eyes and smile as her handsome father, you could already tell she would grow up to be as beautiful as her dad.

Twenty minutes flew by fairly quickly while you distracted your student with a puzzle. The doorbell to the preschool rang, pulling the two of you out of your concentrated state. As you opened the door, Minyoung ran past you into the awaiting arms of her father. Johnny scooped up his little girl with ease and propped her against his hip. His daughter snuggled right into his neck, to which he placed a kiss right on top of her head.

“Hi there, Miss Y/N,” Johnny greeted you with a tired smile. The bags under his pretty eyes were so deep, they were almost designer. He had mentioned that he worked in the financial district of the city, with money-hungry sharks as his bosses. It seemed like they were close to running the poor man to the ground.

“Hello, Johnny,” you answered while closing the door behind him.

The man went through the normal routine of picking up his child’s belongings from her cubby, then signing her out with the proper time. Minyoung excitedly talked about her day, arms flailing about, before pointing to the puzzle they were working on. “So this is where you got your sudden love for puzzles from,” Johnny thought aloud, booping his little girl right on her nose.

“Minnie’s gotten really good at them, she keeps requesting us to buy more,” you told him with a proud grin. Whenever the kids found something they were good at, you always felt this swell of pride within you.

“Is that so?” Johnny hummed. “Guess I have to buy more puzzles for you, princess.”

He turned to you to utter another apology but stopped when he noticed something different. “You changed your hair.”

You almost forgot you took a trip to the salon this weekend, especially with the hectic day you had at work as the afternoon teacher. Not a lot of people noticed--not even your coworkers a the school--but Johnny did. A weird rush flowed through you and you did your best to avoid his eyes. He was a father of one of your students; it was best that he didn’t find out about your small crush on him.

“I did,” you replied quietly, running your fingers through your newly dyed hair. Pretending to fiddle with some paperwork, you tried not to look affected by his words.

“It looks really good on you.” The compliment went straight to your heart.

“Doesn’t she look really beautiful in her dress and her new hair, Daddy? Just like a princess, right?” Minyoung had been telling you this all day, practically calling you royalty. You thanked her every single time before continuing your tasks.

“Your daughter has been showering me with compliments the whole time she was here, sometimes, I wish I could keep her in my pocket so I could hear them all the time. She’s quite the charmer,” You tried to joke, ushering the duo to the door.

“Well, I told my daughter to always tell the truth,” Johnny said, his grin wide as he stepped out into the cold evening air. You swore you saw a bit of pink staining his skin. “Have a good night, Miss Y/N.”

“You--you too, Johnny,” you stuttered before closing the door shut.

“Do you like Miss Y/N, Daddy?” Minyoung asked her father as they walked to their car. She looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “’Cause I really do. She’s really nice to me and she plays with me.”

Unlike Mommy. Johnny heard the unsaid part of the sentence loud and clear.

“I--” Johnny took a moment to gather his thoughts. He liked your smile and how attentive you were to his daughter’s needs. How you never pushed for information while other teachers at Minyoung’s old preschool did. That was the reason he had to pull her out in the first place.

Being a single father and co-parenting with his ex-wife was tough as is. Avoiding unwanted advances was another thing he was trying to get used to. But for some reason, with you, Johnny didn’t mind if you stared at him a little too long or sent a lovely smile his way. In fact, he was starting to look forward to them.

“I guess I just might.”

Send me a summary of the fic you wish I would write and maybe I will write a tidbit

#im sorry i went overboard on this one #johnny x reader #johnny scenarios #johnny imagines

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your-daily-biaswrecking · 3 years

Note

Hello! can you do a scenario with fem!reader and father's best friend!namjoon? I totally understand if this is a concept you're uncomfortable with. All the armys are going crazy with the dilf!bts concept so I need to have this 😭

Tbh that's a hard concept (like absolutely don't do this irl y'all plss it's not okay if it's not fiction– go in the notes to read my PSA pls) so I had to write a bit of plot at the beginning just because I wanted to make it as less weird as possible lol

Namjoon wasn't the type of family friend you got to see a lot growing up. He was, however, the type of friend you got to hear about a lot. Your dad had spent his high school years being in a band that never really had its break, and Namjoon had apparently been the youngest member and your father's favourite. He kept talking about how he "raised" him, meaning he helped him get his first kiss and taught him about girls. Then your dad got your mum pregnant right after graduating, and they both decided to move to the US to find a job and start their family. Your family. And so your dad lost touch with his best friend.

He talked about him quite often, and you knew he had even visited once when you were still too young to have a memory of it. You had only ever seen a couple of pictures of them together; Namjoon looked like a very cringy 13-year-old with a terrible haircut. Not that your dad as a teenager looked any better. But that's beside the point. It doesn't matter what he looked like back then, today you probably wouldn't be able to even recognize him even if he passed you on the street.

"Did I tell you? My best friend moved here from Korea! The band kids are back together!"

Namjoon came back into your father's life at around the same time as you left it– moved away for college. And you kept getting all these updates on how great it was that they found each other again, how many things they did together and in general how happy your dad was. When you visited home for Christmas, Namjoon was away so you didn't run into him. And almost a year after he had moved there, you would finally meet him during the summer. Your father invited him for dinner one hot evening in July.

You opened the door to find him standing outside, your mother just a step behind to greet him. “Joonie! So glad you could make it. Come on in, come on in... Ah! As you know, this is our daughter.”

The man was tall and handsome, nothing like the pictures you had seen. And familiar. His eyes met yours and he smiled, making your blood run cold— you had seen that man before. Not even a week ago, staring at you at the bar while sipping his whiskey until you decided he was too hot and couldn’t be older than 30, so you walked up to him and gave him a napkin with your number and a lipstick stain of a kiss on it. He never called.

“Wow,” Namjoon said without his tone matching his words. “She has grown up so much.” And he looked you up and down again, checking you out kind of like he had done that night. Your entire face was burning, turning on your heels to get away. What the fuck kind of luck was that? He was your dad's friend? You hoped– you begged that he didn't recognize you. He wasn't saying anything, though his eyes kept on stealing looks, and so you thought you might have had a close escape. Until you run into each other in the kitchen. Alone. "Come here, young lady," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. You already felt like you were in trouble. "Does your father know you go around giving your number to men almost twice your age?"

He was so close, eyes travelling lazily down your form with a smirk on his lips. "No," you choked. "I– I don't– You were staring at me, that's why I thought..."

"I was staring at you because I was trying to figure out if you were my best friend's daughter."

Hearing him say the words made your cheeks burn. Defeat. He had a logical excuse and all you had was that he was a little too much your type. And he sounded like he was scolding you, reminding you of your place. You lowered your head, really wanting to get out. "Please don't tell him."

Don't tell him I hit on you. Don't tell him I wanted to fuck you.

Namjoon didn't reply right away, but late that night you got a text from an unknown number. "I won't tell him anything."

He won't tell him anything. Perhaps that could be applied to what had already happened, or what would happen in the future.

You didn't text frequently, but you did nonetheless. And even though you were sure both of you would say they were simple, innocent texts, how innocent could they really be when the man already knew how you felt about him? Maybe you were crazy, but you thought he might like you too. Maybe he liked the fact that you liked him. It wasn't evident in anything he did or say, just the vibes you got from him those days he visited your house, or the way he looked at you when you were left alone for a second. The summer passed by so fast when every other day you met your father's best friend in one way or another.

When it was time for you to move back to the city where you attended college, Namjoon just so happened to be going there for some work too. And your parents were grateful that you had someone to travel with. The car ride was long and mostly silent. You had never been left alone for so long and suddenly you realised how hard it was to keep a conversation going without talking about how horny he made you feel just by being in the same, tight space with you. But the farther away you got from home, the less you cared about keeping your good reputation up.

"Where will you sleep tonight?" you asked him after he helped drop off all your stuff at your apartment late that night and was already at the door, ready to leave.

"I'll find a hotel," he told you, hand still on the door handle.

"You can stay here if you want to."

"Don't–" His plea was soft-spoken, in contrast to the intense way his eyes were piercing yours.

"Don't what?" you acted dumb. "All I'm saying is I'm sure dad would rather you stay instead of paying for a room. You're like family, anyway."

You noticed how he took in a deep breath, grip around the knob getting harder. "Don't bring him into this."

Saying that you two shouldn't mention your father was like admitting what was going on right now was beyond innocent. And even though your stomach clenched at his harsh tone, you bowed your head and whispered. "I'm sorry."

"This is so wrong," you heard him call loudly all of a sudden, making you look back at him. He was chewing on his lip desperately. "I was there when your dad got your mom pregnant. Do you know what I said? Fuck, man, how are you gonna get out of this bullshit? I shouldn’t be…"

You blinked at him, waiting to hear the end of the sentence. "Shouldn't be what?" You weren't gonna let him slip away that easily. You would push him until he had to say what he wanted to say. It was your only chance, anyway.

Namjoon sighed. He pushed the door closed and walked up to you steadily all while he was staring straight into your eyes. "Why did you give me your number that night?"

Your breathing was already getting heavier. You wouldn't back away. What was the point? He knew already. "Because you were hot. And I wanted you to fuck me."

He chewed his lip for a few seconds, watching your face as he contemplated his next words. "Why do you want me to stay over tonight?"

You gulped. He was so close, closer than ever. "Because you're hot," you whispered. Glance down on his lips. "And I want you to fuck me."

He closed his eyes momentarily before he was exhaling loudly. "Fucking– hell!"

And he instantly moved forward, one hand grabbing the back of your head as he brought your face to crush on his, mouths smashing against each other after all the times you had dreamed about it. It was so much better than you could have imagined, lips full and soft parting yours for his tongue to slip in between, making you moan. And you were trying to get closer and closer, almost tripping as you walked blindly further into the apartment. His jacket was discarded on the floor before your shirt joined it, and Namjoon was growling before attacking your neck with his teeth.

"Daddy..." The word truly slipped out of you, and he was pausing for a moment, pulling away to look at you.

"Really? You're really gonna call me daddy?" Your eyes were wide and cheeks burning, squirming away from him before he grabbed your wrist to keep you close. "Shit," he grunted, not sounding mad at all. "Alright, baby. Show daddy where your room is, need to get you in bed right away."

And you mewled at his words. You were there in no time, pulling the rest of your clothes off as Namjoon undressed too. Big and thick, he was even hotter like that, making you press your legs together as you took the sight in. And when he removed his boxers too, you got to found out his dick matched the rest of his body perfectly, long and thick and so hot it made your mouth water.

"Daddy," you whined as he started crawling over you. "You're so big. You're gonna tear me apart."

His large hand grabbed your jaw. "That's what you get for playing with big boys." And he kissed you ruthlessly again. His other hand travelling down your form until he found your pussy, fingers playing with your folds and humming in satisfaction. "So wet. Is that all for me, baby?"

"Yes, daddy," you moaned, hips trying to grind on his hand for some more friction. "I've been wet for you since I first saw you."

"Fuck. I know, baby," he breathed into your ear, two fingers slipping slowly inside you and stretching you out. "I could tell. You weren't hiding it very well, baby. How much you wanted me to ruin you. Which is why daddy's been hard for you all this time, too." Your breath was hitching as he was moving his hands slowly, not even trying to fuck you like that, just trying to get you ready for his cock. And he stopped. "Are you gonna let daddy fuck you raw, baby?"

You almost screamed. "Fuck, yes, daddy, please! Fuck me open with your cock."

Namjoon was growling as he retrieved his fingers from inside you. "What a dirty mouth! Who taught you to speak like that, you dirty, little whore? I thought you were a good girl."

Your nails were scratching his back as you whined and squirmed underneath him. "Oh, daddy, please! I need you! I'll be good for you."

And you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance as he shushed you. "Alright then. Be a good girl for daddy and take this big cock like the good, little slut you are." And he shoved himself in you.

"O–oh my god!" you yelped. Namjoon didn't go easy on you, didn't go slow or gentle, he started pounding you fast and hard right away, truly fucking you open like you had asked him to. You were squirming underneath him but his body was so big and strong, it was caging you completely. And just to shut you up he kissed you again, tongue so deep in your mouth he was choking you. Namjoon was fucking you so hard he brought tears to your eyes, and you felt euphoric being used by him like that.

"My dirty, little cunt," he rasped after he freed your mouth. "Like taking my cock like that?" You were nodding, mewling, unable to speak. "What a good girl. Letting daddy fuck her as hard as he wants." He leaned back, grabbing your arms until he had your wrists pinned above your head and the new position gave him the ability to piston his hips against yours even faster, diving even deeper.

"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum," you cried, legs shaking as they fought against his abusing thrusts between them.

"So easy," Namjoon panted with a smirk. "So easy to please you. Gonna cum cuz you've never had dick like daddy's before, huh? No one's ever fucked you this good? Those little boys your age, I bet they don't know shit about pleasing a nasty girl like you." He spat on his free hand and brought it right down on your clit, pressing on it hard. And you were moaning even louder. "There you go, baby. You can cum on daddy's dick now."

"Namjoon–" you yelped, and you felt your orgasm pop, gushing all your juices over him as he kept fucking you through it. He slowed down a bit, coming down to kiss you sloppily as you continued to whine with each thrust against your sensitive, tight walls.

"That's my good girl," he whispered, kissing you almost lovingly. "Don't worry, baby. We're not nearly done yet." And his thrusts slowly got deeper and deeper. "You really shouldn't have let me fuck you, baby. Cuz now I don't ever plan on stopping."

Masterlist | Part 2

#bts #bangtan #namjoon #kim namjoon #request #rm #drabble #oneshot #smut #dilf namjoon #bts drabble #bts smut #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon oneshot #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader

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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years

Text

Doll

Pairing: Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier) x F!Reader

Words: 7.7K

Rating: Very much 18+

Warnings: P in V, oral (fem receiving), light (consensual) choking, praise, James Buchanan Barnes is a sad boy and only you can make him happy, mutual therapy over past trauma, a couple light spanks, and some sexy sparring

Note: Reader had a run-in with Hydra that gave you invisibility powers. Bucky is tasked with training you. Totally not canon, I just kept the parts I liked. Got the idea from a tiktok but I can't find it anymore oops. I'm thinking of turning it into a series of all the places you can fuck Bucky Barnes at Avengers HQ. Enjoyyyyyy....

---

"Alright, so I'm thinking absolutely the first thing you need is a suit. Because we can't have you sneaking around in clothes that give you away."

Tony Stark and Peter Parker stand before you at Avengers HQ, furiously tossing ideas back and forth, trying to come up with ways to build you the best possible suit. Last night had been...interesting, to say the least.

"Who's that?" Stark had said when you appeared all of a sudden from your room. "Come on Agent Hill, don't tell me you're taking in lost kids nowadays."

Your mother had only laughed, slightly inebriated and feeling loose because of all the drinking that was going on in your penthouse apartment. She was hosting one of those parties where too many superpowers drank too much alcohol and got a little too rowdy. "That's my daughter."

Usually, you stay away from such events, go out with friends, and avoid the house until it's all over. For the past four years, you hadn't even been in the house to need to avoid it. But now you're 22 and a recent college graduate and something about the party was drawing you in so you had emerged from your hideaway to join in the fun.

"Alright, Maria, how'd you manage to keep that one a secret?" Romanov spoke up.

Until this point, you'd remained silent, in shock at the sudden attention a group of superheroes had focused onto you. But you couldn't help yourself from responding now. You'd managed to hide away long enough. It was time to come into the open.

"I'm a ghost," you said jokingly, approaching the couch and stealing the drink your mother had been drinking to take a sip. It was strong and burned on the way down. The group laughed at your words, unaware of how true they really were.

It was then that you'd performed your little trick, the one that only a few of your closest friends had ever seen. You became invisible.

The laughter had immediately stopped. The girl who suddenly appeared out of thin air had disappeared right back into it. They could still tell where you were of course. The glass in your hand remained visible, floating in mid-air, giving away your position. And your clothes were still perceptible, not being able to change with you. But your features were otherwise undetectable, not even a shimmer revealing your face. You took another sip of the drink, liquid disappearing into an invisible mouth.

"I want her. On the team," Stark had said.

And that was it. The start of your superhero career.

"Explain again exactly how this works?" Parker asks.

You sigh and start from the beginning, again. "I can distort the absorption wavelengths of my cells so that the reflected light is in the invisible range, usually infrared."

"And how long can you hold it for?"

"About seven minutes now," you explain. "It's sort of like holding your breath. You can go underwater for a while, and you can practice holding your breath longer and longer, but eventually, you need to come up for air. Eventually, I have to 'recharge.' But I've been working on extending it."

Stark turns to one of the many holograms of his supercomputer, working with Friday to design a brand new suit to accommodate your skills. You're so engrossed in watching his process you don't even notice the shadowy figure appear in the doorway that leads to the training facilities.

"How'd you get these powers? Agent Hill isn't lacking in skill but it certainly isn't supernatural."

You knew Stark's question would come up eventually. It always did. Over time, it became easier to tell the story, but now you really don't feel like explaining fully, so you tell the short version.

"Hydra. When I was seventeen. They used me as a bargaining chip against my mom in a mission gone wrong and decided to experiment on me in the process. Left me with a lot of scars and a lot of therapy. Almost dropped out of school."

You don't remember much from the experience. But enough for it to leave lasting damage.

"Hydra?" a familiar voice asks behind you. Only now do you notice that Barnes is behind you. How long has he been watching?

You remain silent, just like you did the night before when he'd arrived late to the party, unable to speak under his gaze.

You had planned to leave not long after you joined the festivities. But when the elevator doors opened, a pair of blue eyes halted you in your path. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. You'd recognize those eyes anywhere. Crystal clear and icy, freezing you under their gaze. He wore a leather jacket and leather gloves, concealing his metal arm, but you knew it was there, hiding behind the layers.

Barnes had always been the one that caught your eye during your mother's briefings. His transition from the greatest warrior Hydra had to offer, and thus S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest enemy, to the trusted companion of Captain America and official Avengers member intrigued you. At first, he had been more of a schoolgirl crush, the little girl grappling with her new powers seeking guidance in someone who didn't even know she existed. But age had not reduced your admiration of him. Barnes' face was hard set in serious determination and his glance barely grazed over you before turning to the rest of the group. He paid you not a single ounce of attention, yet you felt dumbstruck in his presence.

But Bucky had noticed you that night. Noticed you in a way he wanted desperately to hide, so he disallowed his eyes from lingering on you. Who were you and why were you wearing pajamas at a party and how did you make them actually look good?

And not only did he notice you, but he recognized you. He wasn't sure how, but something at the back of his head buried beneath decades of blurred half-memories told him he knew you. It was a stupid thought, though. How could he know you?

From the doorway, his eyes narrow in concern, making you feel smaller than ever beneath him. How is that 5 o'clock shadow so enticing? You just want to run your fingers across--

Stark gestures at Barnes, completely ignoring his comment. "Good, you're here. Our young Agent Hill needs to get started with her training immediately. I want her in the field but she can't be going in inexperienced. Teach her the works."

It's rather bold of Stark to assume you have no combat skills. And to assume you even want to go into the field. But you follow behind Barnes in silence anyway toward the training facilities. It doesn't matter what you know and don't know. He's going to kick your ass anyway.

"Feet wider," he says, coaching you on your swing. His blue eyes have somehow darkened, and along with the faint beard, he looks positively dangerous. "Not too wide."

"I know how to punch, Barnes," you whisper under your breath. He's not meant to hear your words, but he does anyway.

"Oh yeah? Punch me then. Go for it." His voice is challenging in the way that reveals he knows he could block any swing that comes at him. But he wants to see what will happen. Your mention of Hydra loosened a memory in his brain somewhere, and though he can't quite place his finger on it, the memory told him you're anything but the kid he's treating you like. He wants to know what you really have inside you.

Your annoyance gets the best of you. You aim for his face, the way your mother taught you. And she taught you well, teaching you all the self-defense skills you might need moving through the world as a woman. But she did not teach you how to fight super soldiers. That's an entirely different world.

Unsurprisingly, Barnes predicts your move and his metal arm comes up to meet your human one, halting your punch mid-swing. His palm fully engulfs your fist, your knuckles slamming into the metal with a ringing sound.

"Fuck, that hurt," you seethe through your teeth, gripping your hand in pain. And yet, you still smile. You mean for your words to sound irritated, but they betray how much you enjoy getting a swing in. "Didn't have to do me like that, Barnes."

He ignores your pain, though secretly it pleases him to find how much force is truly behind your punch. Nothing, of course, his metal arm can't take, but strong enough. "Language, kid. Go again. And this time, try not to be so obvious."

Despite his advice, it's impossible. He predicts every one of your strikes and counters them with four times as much strength as you possess. You give him everything you have, and nothing lands.

"This would be a lot easier if you let me use my powers."

So far, Barnes has refused to let you fight invisible, not that it would have done you much good without a proper suit. But you're tired and sweaty, your hair falling from its ponytail and sticking to your face, your muscles aching and your heart beating fast. Barnes hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Unless you learn to fight without your powers, they'll do nothing more than level the playing field. You need to be at an advantage if you're going to survive."

Survive. You've done plenty of that already. You want better than survival. Barnes recognizes the look on your face, the one that expresses the desire plainly. He knows the feeling, drifting from one day to the next and wanting more than that.

His voice softens a bit. "We can call it quits for the day. Get some rest. We'll go again tomorrow."

He didn't intend to be so kind. It just sort of happened, drawn out of him by the not-so-innocent girl who still has a lot to learn but can hold her own better than most.

---

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's8 like the day before, 9 am at HQ, wait for Parker to get his ass up the elevator so Stark can begin, get sidetracked by coffee, and then finally return to the task at hand.

"Give this a shot," Stark says, handing you what looks like nothing more than a vaguely human-shaped paper suit. "Not exactly protective, but it's a new technology. Should conform to your abilities."

"You did this overnight?"

"Of course. Get changed."

The suit has little support and definitely no protection. You feel like a fingernail could rip a hole through it if you pull on it wrong, let alone a knife coming at you from an angry enemy. But it's a start. An impressive start. You stare at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom as you shift, the suit shifting along with you.

Back in the training facilities, where you know Stark and Parker will be waiting, you remain in your shifted form. They don't look up as you enter, somehow having not heard you, and instead are engaged in a heated discussion with Barnes about something you don't understand. So you creep up behind Parker, lean in, and whisper into his ear.

"I think it works."

You feel a little bad, but only for a moment. Parker jumps straight out of his skin, screaming a scream you didn't know was possible from the kid. Stark lets out a laugh as you rematerialize, and Barnes even cracks a smile at your prank.

"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so." Parker's voice quivers.

"Well, what do you think?" Stark asks.

"Very thin," you say, aware that much more is visible than you really want. "I feel like it's going to rip at any moment. And there's not a whole lot of support in this area."

You gesture vaguely at your chest, not knowing how best to explain to a group of men that a sports bra is a necessity for fighting, but knowing you have to make them aware all the same. You can feel Barnes' eyes on you, a little less polite than the others, and you find you like the way he eyes you up, a bit like a puzzle to be solved or a strategy to be devised.

"Right, right, I'll get on that. Only a prototype anyway," Stark responds nervously. "Back to work, Parker. Hill, Barnes, back to training."

Bucky tries his best not to picture what you might look like without that suit, but it leaves little to the imagination as you saunter away to change again.

And so the days move forward. You've never before been so busy or exhausted in your life. You just graduated college, which is a feat in itself, but all the training, all the work, keeps you on your toes so that by the end of the day, both your brain and your body are tired.

Still, you improve and get better at sparring Barnes, even taking him down a couple of times on your own, though you suspect he's going easy on you.

"Again." Barnes is already on his feet and helping you to yours. Today the sparring room is particularly warm, and you've long forgone your sweats for shorts and a sports bra. Barnes has lost the shirt as well, and his chest glistens with sweat beneath the fluorescent lights. Maybe it's the heat or maybe it's him, but the whole thing feels a bit dreamlike. Here you are, sparring with a man who could take you to the ground with one arm alone, and he's letting you kick his ass every once in a while.

But there's no way you can do it again. You feel destroyed by all the slamming onto the mat.

Barnes is doing his best not to be distracted as well, but those tight shorts and the top that reveals your midriff have to be on purpose. It's easy to admit to himself that he likes you, might even be attracted to you. You fight hard and relentlessly, rising to every one of his challenges and not backing down even when you're tired. You've already come a long way since that first encounter, and Barnes has come to look forward to the two hours a day you spend together in the gym. He had tried to tell himself it was the fun of having a new sparring partner, but in truth, he knows it's the determined glint in your eyes, the way you bounce on your feet in excited anticipation of the fight, the way you collapse on the mat after a hard session, chest heaving deep breaths in and out. But what he likes most is your heated gaze when he pins you to the ground, or even better, you pin him.

"Knock me down one more time and you can be done," he challenges. The familiar determination returns, though a flicker of doubt remains behind your eyes. He can tell you need encouragement. "Remember to use your size to your advantage. Don't let me get ahead of you. Keep me guessing."

You do your best. You really do. You hold your own for almost two minutes, but it's obvious you're only barely staying ahead of him. As soon as you falter, Barnes has you flat on your back on the mat without much resistance, immobilized by a knee on your thighs and his metal arm trapping your hands over your head. His free hand plants by your head and holds him up to prevent him from actually hurting you.

You gasp underneath him, trying to disguise the weird flicker of desire with breathlessness. He looks good from down here, all sweaty and dark and serious. But you're also a bit too tired to care. "I'm out, Barnes. Let me go."

Let me go. Please.

And that's when the memory returns. The full, real memory, the one that has been tickling the edges of his brain since he first saw you. You, a kid, his mission. Kidnap, don't kill. A small voice, your voice, begging. Please, let me go. What has he done?

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, standing up quickly.

"Language, Barnes," you say teasingly. But he doesn't laugh, simply exits the sparring room, abruptly leaving you, speechless and alone on the floor. What just happened?

After a moment of confused silence on the mat, you brush it off and stand, heading to your room for a shower. Stark offered you a place to stay at HQ, and you happily agreed. Though you loved being back with your mother after four years away at college, you cherish your independence. A room at HQ offered you just that.

A nice shower would certainly make you feel better after that confusing interaction. You pull on your robe and shower shoes, leaving your clothes behind so as to carry one less thing. But as you pass down the hall toward the showers, you can hear Barnes' voice drift through the slightly open door to his room.

"I remembered," he says. "It was her. I'm the reason she's--" He cuts off, appearing to be interrupted by whoever he's talking to on the phone. You pause by the open door.

"I know that's not me anymore but I'm still responsible," he continues. "I have to tell her."

Again a pause. By now it's apparent he's talking about you.

"No, Steve, we aren't a team. We aren't partners. I'm helping Tony out. I don't care if she doesn't want to work with me anymore, this is part of my redemption. I have to tell her."

The conversation seems over. You rush to the showers, not wanting Barnes to realize you were listening the whole time. Apologize, he said. Apologize for what? You've known him for a whole of four days and he's been nothing but polite to you. Cold, at first, but he warms upon acquaintance. And then he's downright sweet.

So sweet, you realize, for someone so damaged. He has every right to hate the world, and though he walks through it with a healthy dose of cynicism, he never lets that cynicism touch you. If anything, he's outright positive around you, an undeserving brat. A kid, really, though you don't like when he calls you that. You know you can be naive, positive on the verge of artificiality, and yet he never tries to burst your bubble. In fact, he seems to relish it.

The shower feels nice, but it does nothing to assuage your fears. Maybe it's you who has done something wrong? Now you're spiraling. You have to find out what's going on or it's going to drive you crazy.

You know what you have to do. You have just about seven minutes of invisibility before your shifting gives out. In those seven minutes, you can duck from the showers, sneak into Barnes' room, snoop around, and make it back to the showers unseen. Plenty of time. But you have to go nude. Now would be a great time for the suit, but no such luck. Naked it is.

Out in the hallway, all is quiet. Barnes' door is still ajar, but when you peek your head in, the room is empty.

Easy.

Where to start? His phone is a dead end, being one of those ancient flipping kinds rather than a new, high-tech smartphone. He has few personal belongings, the bed is made perfectly, and his closet contains only clothes.

The drawers of the nightstand are empty. Or nearly empty. At the back of the top drawer is unceremoniously shoved a small booklet with a pen stuck between the pages. It's worn and supple, as though held a thousand times and read a thousand more. You flip through, finding a list of names, some crossed out, others not. Your name does not appear, but something about the list tells you these are not ordinary names. These are the names of his victims, people Barnes hurt as the Winter Soldier. Your heart aches and your stomach clenches, the reminder of his past jarring against the kind demeanor you've come to know. But deep down, you know this isn't him, know he's a good man, despite it all.

You know better than most the first-hand horrors of Hydra's super-soldier experiments. Of anyone, you can relate best to the experience Barnes has been through. Your memories of that long week are blurry, but the pain remains, forever seared into your mind. You can only imagine a lifetime of that pain.

The sound of the door opening jolts you from your reverie and you close the drawer quickly. But you soon realize your mistake. Barnes would know he left the door open, would know exactly how he placed his book in the drawer, would recognize something was off. Unfortunately, you're right.

"Hello?" he calls into the darkening room. The evening is coming on fast and the sun dims to barely glimmer, casting the space in shadow despite the large windows on the south wall.

Bucky knows something is off the moment he finds your room unoccupied, having gone there with the express purpose of confronting you about his actions earlier in the afternoon. And though he has no way of truly knowing, he suspects you are now here, in this room with him, invisible to his gaze. Bucky shuts the door behind him and waits.

You're trapped. You don't have long before your powers give out; already the suffocating feeling that begs you to take a breath is coming on. And Barnes has closed the door, effectively sealing you in, as you can't open it without him knowing for sure that you're here. On top of that, you're clothingless. You've run out of options and Barnes seems to sense this. So, he waits, drawing out the moment of tension, building the suspense.

"I know you're here," he says finally, his voice soft and barely audible. "You can't hide that well. Next time, dry your feet off before you go leaving wet footprints all over the place."

Oops.

"I--" you begin, and immediately Barnes' eyes snap to where your voice originates from. "I'm sorry. I overheard your conversation with Rogers. I shouldn't have but I know it was about me."

Barnes sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, you're right. I have some things to explain. Though I'd much prefer talking to you if I could see you."

You hesitate. "Only a slight problem there. I'm not wearing any clothes."

If it had been any lighter in the room you would have seen Barnes blush. Instead, you watch him pull his shirt over his head. He hands it to you blindly, the shirt off his own back, soft with wear and long enough to cover the tops of your thighs. It smells of him, salty with sweat and sweet with the scent you've come to recognize only as him. You shrug it on and shift back.

"I'm sorry," you say again, having trouble concentrating with Barnes' bare chest at your eye level. Is that an old bullet wound on his shoulder? The reminder of a knife across his stomach? You can't look away, even at the seam where man meets metal.

Barnes shakes his head. "No, I should be the one apologizing."

He pauses for a moment and tries to begin several times before finally forming a complete sentence.

"It's my fault you're like this, that Hydra tested on you. It was me who kidnapped you, it was me who followed orders, it was me who completed the mission and got you hurt. And I'm so sorry."

You're so frozen in shock that the absurdity of the situation doesn't even register. There's nothing under this shirt, no underwear, no pants, no bra. And here you are standing in the bedroom of your greatest inspiration, listening to him apologize for being the one that facilitated your kidnapping, for being responsible for all the injury, the pain, the nightmares, the isolation, the...

It all comes flooding back, the things you had forgotten, or simply chose to not remember, and one of those things is his face.

You thought you'd dealt with impact. So many hours with a therapist, and you realize all you did was suppress the feelings, not confront them. And then you break, all the anger and sadness and frustration flowing from you at once.

"You piece of shit." Your voice begins as a whisper but soon amplifies nearly to a shout. "You monster, you bastard, how could you? How could you?"

All this time you forgave him for the damage he'd done, excused it as brainwashing and manipulation from Hydra. But now that it's you he's involved, you have somewhere to direct your anger, and you take it out as a shove straight to his chest.

He didn't expect that one. The words he understood. He accepted those, accepted that you would hate him forever. But then you're pushing and hitting him with all your force. Barnes could fight back, could hold his ground. But you need this, so he lets you shove him into the wall with a newfound strength. Finally against the wall, with nowhere left to go, you turn to pummelling his chest with your fists, repeating the words over and over, how could you, how could you, how could you.

For a moment, he lets it happen. But eventually, Barnes reacts, grabbing your wrists and holding them to his chest in an attempt to calm the fury that rages inside you. Surprisingly, at his touch, you still, slumping against him once the anger is replaced with nothing but sadness. That anger, one you never truly realized you'd harbored since your capture, bled from you all at once, leaving you exhausted.

You don't notice you're crying until a soft thumb wipes a tear from your cheek. Barnes releases your hands and wraps his arms around your sobbing body, pulling you close. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in your ear, his words a whisper against the rage inside your head.

Is it hours, or only minutes, standing like that, wrapped up in him, his skin so soft against your cheek? Time has ceased to exist, melting into the nighttime that encompasses the room in near pitch-black darkness. Your breath calms, your heart rate slows, the tears dry. He's only a man, a broken, misplaced, lost man. But he's also impossibly kind to you, caring enough to train you day after day, to pick you up when you fall down, to ensure you're happy here at all times. That's the man you know and rest your cheek against and seek out for comfort in this moment, despite him being the reason for your anger. But he's not truly the reason for your anger, only an easy outlet standing right before you.

This is not how Bucky had expected this to go. Perhaps to never see you again, yes. But to hold you in his arms, certainly not. And not just hold you, but comfort you. It surprises him how much he finds he likes it. And he can't ignore the fact that you're here in his room, wearing his shirt and only his shirt. He doesn't try anything improprietous, just wraps his arms around your waist, but it's not lost on him that your supple chest is pressed against him and the delicious scent from your still wet hair is filling his brain with a flowery cloud. His stomach clenches at the thought of burying his face in that smell for the rest of the night but he pushes it aside. That's not why you're here. That's not what you want.

But your next words surprise him. You pull slightly away, tilting your splotchy face upward towards his to look him in the eye. You take a ragged breath and speak.

"I forgive you."

Bucky is taken aback. That's not why he made this confession, not to seek your forgiveness. "You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I do. And I know you think I'm just a kid--"

Barnes lets out a short laugh, cutting you off immediately. "Jesus Christ, that's not true. You're not a kid. You're smart and strong and capable. And you've seen the ugly world for its true self and choose to remain good and happy all the same. I'm not like that and that makes you wiser than I'll ever be."

He takes a deep breath, unsure if he should admit to the feelings he desperately wants to express to you. The way you're looking at him, with a mixture of hesitation and admiration, makes the words tumble from his mouth without a second thought.

"But somehow being around you makes me want to be good again. Not for my sake, but for yours."

"James, I--" You've never used his first name before, but it falls deliciously from your lips, the sound of it nearly distracting him from the finger you run across the stubble on the cleft of his chin. Nearly. He captures that hand in his own, holding it there against his face.

"You don't have to forgive me. I don't deserve it," he repeats, eyes falling shut to the feeling of your thumb pressed to the corner of his lips. He still holds you close, the other arm wrapping tight around you, and though verbally he rejected the comfort your warmth offered, his body says otherwise, desperate for the acceptance his brain refuses to give into.

"Stop punishing yourself," you whisper. For a moment, he almost feels that he could.

And when your lips find his, soft and delicate, he forgets why you're even here in the first place, forgets his guilt and your anger, forgets even to react.

His lack of response has you pulling away, worried you've done something wrong, but then he's chasing your lips with his own, leaning forward to meet you halfway, gathering you impossibly tighter to his chest. He pauses, mouth mere centimeters from yours, eyes still shut, a deep breath heaving from his chest. He wants more, wants to kiss you again in all the places that count, but he can't quite yet.

"What was that for?" The question's not an accusatory one but simply curious. Have you always looked at him in this light since day one? Has he just not noticed?

"Are you blind, Barnes?"

He laughs and shakes his head. "None of that last name shit, doll, we've moved on to a first-name basis."

But your words are enough to surge him forward, this time capturing your lips in a dominating kiss that leaves you gasping for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and presses his tongue to yours, seeking to fill his soul with your all-consuming warmth, to wrap it around him like a cocoon of your scent. His fingers slide down your back and slip under the shirt you wear, his shirt, grasping at the bare skin of your ass, filling his hands with your supple flesh.

You moan softly under his touch, relishing in the feeling of being encompassed by someone so large and so strong. The vibranium arm, which you expected to be harshly indelicate against your relative fragility, caresses you with the same gentility of the other. The intense contact sends your heart racing like it did all the times you were pinned below him on the sparring mat. Will he pin you like that in bed? Hold you down while he fucks you within an inch of your life?

The thought rouses a heat between your legs and stirs butterflies in your tummy. You don't even know if that's where this is going, but it invades your brain anyways. You're sure Barnes can feel your racing pulse beneath his lips when he kisses your neck, sending your nerves haywire as he creeps toward the neckline of your shirt. He inhales your scent, the hot air of his breath fanning your cool skin.

Everything about this is sloppy, the wet kisses dragged across your skin, his tongue tangled with yours, your fingers tugging at the hair that brushes the nape of his neck. Even his hips against yours are messy and rough, the heat of him leaving your core feeling slick, the wetness of it rubbing between your naked thighs. And then Barnes is sliding his hands back up your body, this time under your shirt, and tugging it over your head, his lips leaving your skin just long enough to toss the item to the ground.

You expect him to keep surging forward, to lift you in his arms and take you to bed like you want him to. But he pauses instead, hands cradling the back of your head, his eyes staring intensely into yours. Or you think he's staring into your eyes.

"Are you okay? Is this okay?" His voice is full of concern but raspy with arousal all the same.

"Yes, James, yes, I need more."

"Well, I would, it's just that you've disappeared on me again." One look at your hands and you know he was looking right through you, not at you. The swirl of emotions--pleasure, arousal, timidity even--sent you shifting without your knowledge. You can't help but laugh.

"Let me see you, doll," he groans, sounding exasperated that he can't rake his gaze across your naked flesh or find all the places he wants to touch you because they're invisible.

"You first."

A heated understanding lights up his eyes, still vibrant in the darkness of the room. Slowly, he releases his grip on you, relenting to not knowing where you are in space. You take an invisible step back to get a better view of the specimen before you. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather from his pants and dropping it to the floor with a thunk. And then his pants are gone and he's left in his boxers, tight against the bulging muscles of his thighs.

And other bulging things. He doesn't hide his attraction to you. But still, you do not reappear.

Bucky begins to worry you're never going to, that maybe he's taken things too for. But then, a soft finger trails across his neck and he jerks in surprise. You're tracing the plain of his chest with a feather-light touch, dipping into the indent between his collarbones, feeling along the puckered scar of a bullet wound and the long slice of a knife. He feels healed beneath your touch, but it's not enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger building in the tightness of his groin. This entire evening has been a long, drawn-out, build-up of tension, and if he doesn't release it soon, it will snap like an overstretched rubber band.

He makes his move.

Apparently, Bucky's senses are just as perceptive here as they are on the sparring mat. His metal hand shoots up and wraps around the wrist of the hand on his chest, despite being unable to see it. The other reaches out and grapples at your invisible body in the dark, somehow finding your waist. He doesn't need to see you to manage to flip you around and press your back against his chest. In your surprise, your invisibility falters, and you flicker out of your shifted form with a flustered squeak, one hand suddenly pinned between your back and Bucky's rock-hard chest.

He holds on with an iron grip and walks you toward the bed, holding you up to prevent you from tripping in your ruffled state.

"You're taking too long, doll," he mumbles into your ear, and you feel his chest rumble with the vibrations. Your free hand flies to the one around your waist, which is slowly creeping upward toward your breast to twist at the sensitive nipple. "I know you like it when I pin you on the sparring floor. I can see it in your eyes. I'll take you like that right now if you give me the word."

Fuck, you want nothing more but you can't breathe enough to get the words out, opting for nodding vigorously instead. But Bucky wants words, gently prodding you forward to get a verbal commitment out of you. He will never take you against your will again. So you manage a long, drawn-out please and suddenly you're face-first in the sheets, bent halfway at the waist, your ass grinding against the delicious bulge pressed against your aching cunt. It pleases you that he has been thinking the same wicked thoughts as you when he slams you to the mat over and over again in training.

Bucky pulls your arm out from underneath you, joining it with the other and holding them together with his metal fist at your lower back, forcing your chest further into the mattress and your ass higher in the air. There's no way for you to move, no matter how hard you try. But you don't try, won't try. Bucky has you right where you want to be.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmurs in your ear and you breathe an affirmation. His teeth nibble suddenly at your ear lobe and you squirm, the sensation of his breath fanning your skin sending goosebumps along the trail of kisses he leaves down your spine. Somehow, you know this is only the calm before the storm, the gentle caresses of a man who's about to rearrange every organ in your body, all the way up to your heart if you aren't careful.

It doesn't matter to you that it's pitch black in the room; you wouldn't have been able to see anything with your face shoved into the comforter, even if the lights were on. But Bucky's starting to regret having left the lights off, wishing he could better see the curve of your hips, the swell of your thighs, or the bloom of his handprint on your ass when his hand comes down with a smack. He resigns to being satisfied by the mewling gasp that escapes your lips and your soft pleas to Do it again, harder.

So he does. Smack.

And then he's sinking to his knees and you can tell because he leaves a wet stripe of skin with his tongue over the globe of your ass and blows a shock of cool air across the rawness of your skin. He replaces the sting of his hand with the bite of his teeth and then a kiss to soothe you again. The rollercoaster of sensations has you moaning against the mattress and rocking your hips toward his face and Barnes chuckles at your movement, your actions giving away the desperation you feel to have his tongue move to more sensitive places.

He is happy to oblige. You hadn't even noticed you'd been squeezing your thighs together until he slid a hand up between them, forcing them apart. It's a blessing your legs aren't doing any work to keep you up anymore because they feel like jelly under his touch. The hand between your thighs moves higher still until you feel his thumb pressed to your sensitive clit, warm and twitching with anticipation, desire coursing through your veins and dripping from your wet cunt. Your ears barely register that he's speaking, the blood is pumping so hard in your ears, but his words are exalting.

"Look at you, so wet for me." The hand around your wrists tightens just slightly. You are surprised by the extreme control he has over the cool metal fingers, and you almost wish he'd use those on you instead. And then he says, "you like it, don't you, doll, being at my mercy," and you forget all about the arm and decide it doesn't matter what hand presses down with a gentle strength on your clit as long as he doesn't stop. And he doesn't. Doesn't move, doesn't flinch or twitch or falter, just holds steady until your gasping mewls die down just enough for you to say, "yes, all for you, all for you, all..."

With those words, his thumb slips, between your slick folds into your pussy, finding the soft spongy flesh and pressing down again and you cry out with a careening moan that tapers off into a silent sob. He's taking his time, picking you apart, pulling at the laces that bind you together, and undoing them to release the tension he knows you harbor. But what about him? Is it not torture for him?

You breathe in a rough gasp, enough to squeak out a few more words. "I thought we were going too slow for you."

He laughs, he actually laughs, at your words, but relents.

"I hear you, doll."

I hear you. Oh wow. His tongue replaces his finger and you lose all coherence, able only to blubber some iteration of his name as the smooth muscle traces circles around your clit, finally allowing your orgasm to build with a steady contraction in your pelvis. Barnes moans between your legs like he's never tasted chocolate or buttercream or any of those other wondrous flavors and there's only you. And that moan sends you overboard, the vibrations diffusing down your legs and you tremble into your first orgasm. Your first orgasm.

He keeps going, riding out the waves of your high until you're crying that it's too much, James, too much and he pulls his tongue away from your oversensitized clit only to move down your legs. He's working you up again, teasing the smooth skin of your inner thigh with gentle nips and kisses until your body is craving release again, your cunt clenching around nothing but the memory of his mouth. He is deliberate in his ministrations, methodical in the way he must be with his missions. The flood of your first orgasm has dripped steadily down your thigh and he cleans you with his tongue, dragging upward along the sticky trail of your musky release until his tongue makes contact again and he pulls an orgasm from your desperate body once more.

He still hasn't released your arms.

"You know how long I've wanted to do this?" he groans, as you shudder again into the pleasure of his touch. He kisses back up the length of your spine while you twitch under him, his free hand dragging shock wave after shock wave from your cunt. It strikes you that this man is truly 106, not 26 like his body suggests, and you absentmindedly wonder if that's why he's so good at it, that he's had years to practice. And then his cock is pressing against your folds and you forget the notion halfway through thinking it. "You're so good to me doll, so good for opening up for me. Wanna feel your tight pussy around me."

You push backward, or do your best to without the employment of your arms, wanting desperately to feel him inside you. He is warm and all-encompassing and part of you thinks his cock spilling his seed inside of you would complete you like nothing else. But you know that's a bad idea and you can hear him already unwrapping a condom (where did he get that from?) and your body trembles with the anticipation. You haven't even seen him yet but you know he must be big, the way he grunts when the tip of his erection teases your entrance.

When he enters you it isn't gentle like the stroke of his tongue. It splits you open with a rough thrust, the laces of your heart fully undone and releasing you from their confinement. You choke on your own air.

And then he's releasing your arms, and before you can react, Barnes has you lifted, your back to his chest, your knees shoved roughly into the mattress so he can stand and fuck you from behind. The metal arm finds your neck and forces your head back, his lips dragging hot against your soft skin and muttering filthy praise into your ear, his hand gently on your throat to hold you there. Your hands fly to his, not to pull him away, but to convince him to squeeze, just a little bit harder. The pressure is grounding, and then the hand around your waist is trailing toward the bud of your clit and rubbing in urgent circles and you let out a silent gasp as he thrusts into you at a pace astounding for the position you're in.

You come hard, over his hand, around his cock, and for the first time Barnes falters, stunned by the intensity with which you clamp around him and if he hadn't made you come two times already he might have held out a bit longer to pull another one of those stunning orgasms from your slick cunt. But you're sagging, using him to hold you up against the exhaustion of repeated abuse so he releases, riding the wave of pleasure you started. Bucky groans out your name, surprising you with the gentleness of it on his tongue despite the rough hand around your neck.

When he releases you softly back onto the bed, you sink heavily into the mattress, feeling high on pleasure and drunk on his hands. He pulls away and shuffles around the room, and if you had had any energy left you might have complained at the loss of him but as it sits nothing will rouse you from the intense desire to simply fall asleep.

He continues to move about and then... the lights go on? You groan at the harsh treatment of your eyes as they adjust. But Barnes returns and pulls you against him and apologizes for the rude awakening.

"Sorry, doll," he mutters. "Wanted to get a better look at you." His fingers glide along your back and his face nuzzles into the top of your head, breathing into your hair as you press your forehead into his chest. Despite being exhausted himself he trails his hands all over your body, exploring the side of you that has been shoved into the sheets for the better part of the evening. You let him, although your nerves feel fried and oversensitive to touch.

"Watch what you do with those hands," you giggle as his fingertips brush over a nipple, "unless you're ready to go again."

"Already looking forward to next time?"

"You wish," you tease, but already you know for certain that there will be a next time.

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #winter solider smut #definitely not canon #i refuse to believe steve went back in time for some 1940s kitty kat and left his best friend behind #tony and nat are alive bc they are the only truly valuable characters #sebastian stan #also youre the daughter of agent hill #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #winter soldier #wEiNeR sOlDiEr

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ramzawrites · 3 years

Text

Familial Love - Dad!Badboyhalo and Reader Part 1

Pairings: none

Characters included: Philza, Wilbur, Technoblade, Tommy, Badboyhalo

Warnings: n/a

Series: only a two parter

Summary: Having mischievious kids who were interested about the nether, Philza thought it would be the smartest thing to bring his whole family togther into the other world, so he could keep his eyes on them and satisfy their curiosity. Besides, they all could collect some resources while being there, though once in the nether they find more than they bargained for. Bringing in BadBoyHalo who might be able to help with this delicate matter.

Words count: 2684

Authors Note: It was a request ages ago but I sadly lost it, now I’m using it to slowly get back into writing and I know I’m horrible when it comes to multiple chapter fics but I am already almost done with the second part though I have to heavily edit it since I forgot something important. I can’t promise I’m turning back into an upload every week but I’m going to slowly inch my way back to it. I would appreciate some feedback on this one since it’s been a while :)

Philza was fanning some air towards his face using his hand. This wasn’t really helping, of course. The air in the Nether was way too hot for that but he had no better way to deal with the heat that he was currently experiencing. He used to be better at that but he has been spending way more time in the Overworld as of late due to personal projects and having to raise three kids, hence why it took him a bit by surprise with how much trouble he seemed to have to adapt to this environment.

This was also mirrored by his oldest kid Wilbur, which made sense seeing how he only spend minimal time in the Nether, meanwhile Technoblade did fine and interestingly enough, while Tommy was obviously also uncomfortable in this heat, he seemed to be doing better than Philza and Wilbur. Techno was born in the Nether so while it might take a moment he had no problem getting used to this, but Tommy? It was his first time in the Nether so it was a bit surprising. Philza just chalked it up to him being younger and able to adapt faster.

“You sure you guys want to help find the materials?” Philza was looking at both Wilbur and Tommy, though his attention was primarily on Wilbur who was once again wiping away the sweat on his brow.

Both nodded but only Wilbur spoke “Yeah! It’s usually just you and Techno, we want to help out for once as well.”

Philza squinted his eyes, staring his son down “This is bullshit but I’ll take the help nonetheless. I’m sure you will also find the things you both are looking for, would be easier if you would just tell me outright what though.”

“You knew?”

Wilbur clasped his hand around Tommy’s mouth and pulled him closer “It’s fine, dad! We’ll be fine! We’re gonna get that blackstone and the wood in no time!”

He then proceeded to drag Tommy off who begun to angrily yell at Wilbur.

“Remember to stay close!” Phil tried to throw after them but it seemed to go unnoticed, which meant he needed to stay close to them and not the other way around.

“They’ll be fine.” Techno suddenly appeared next to him. An iron axe in his hands.

Philza sighed “ I hope. It’s Tommy’s first time in the Nether and Wilbur doesn’t spend a lot of time here. We have to make sure to stay close.”

Techno nodded, he too was worried about his brothers as well after all “They have some Enderpearls should anything happen and Wilbur will make sure to look out for Tommy.”

He was correct. Philza went over this with all of his sons a ton of times. Teaching them how to enderpearl away while falling and training their aim. He also made sure to tell them all of all the dangers that would await them here. Giving them enchanted bows that could one hit a Ghast.

There was no sense in dwelling on that for now though, hence why Philza hesitantly approached a red tree. His diamond axe soon burrying itself deep into the surprisingly soft wood. Not only is this wood beautiful if used correctly but this wood was also fire resistant which could be helpful for some of his other builds.

Techno was also already on it. He was younger than Wilbur and yet he already showed greater strength than him. Though this wasn’t surprising seeing how Techno was a Piglin Hybrid. They usually grow up pretty fast and were known for their brute strength.

With one swing of his axe he was already pretty deep into the tree. He was just a kid and yet he could keep up with Philza’s rate of cutting down these trees pretty well.

All the while Philza would make sure to run after Wilbur and Tommy. Cutting down the trees close to them. Always making sure that all of his three kids were in his peripheral view. They were still clumsy young children and every time they would even just stumble for a small second his heart would drop.

At times Wilbur and Tommy would try to coax Techno over to show off a cool looking mushroom. At first he was unsure, just wanting to help gather the few recourses that Philza needed but the more his brothers asked the bigger his curiosity got. It didn’t take long for him to join his brothers to look at all the interesting plants and other things they found. Philza just gave him a nod as a sign he is allowed to go after them.

Of course, as a worried father, Philza would still keep his eyes on them.

Honestly this was probably a horrible idea to bring them all with him. The Nether is just too dangerous for kids but also they were so curious! And mischievous kids who are curious about something specific especially when their father doesn’t allow them to approach it? That seems to spell disaster, so, in his infinite wisdom Philza thought it would be a good idea to bring them in with him for a really small outing. Nothing special. He even made sure the portal was in a good place and made it as safe as possible before he took his whole family in.

So when he suddenly heard a scream his heart figuratively stopped. He was so preoccupied with his worry that he didn’t notice how the kids left his view. Without hesitating Philza dropped the heavy axe and instead opened up his wings. With just a few beats of his wings he flew up into the air. Frantically looking around for his sons, hoping they haven’t gone further underground. It calmed him down that there weren’t more screams which could mean one of them just got scared for a second, or they are all already dead not having a chance to yell out again.

Realizing that thinking about this would only make it worse he begun to fully concentrate on the environment, calling out to his sons in the progress. Sweat rolled down the side of his face, this time not only due to the heat but also due to the fear that seemed to fester deep down in his heart and bones with every second he couldn’t find his family.

Then suddenly he saw something blonde. Thank the End Tommy had such an easy to spot hair color. And next to him were Wilbur and Techno, all three of them seemed to look at something laying on the floor. Philza couldn’t make it out from up in the air since the kids put all of their heads together above the item of interest. Either way they seemed to be alright.

As Philza landed close to them he put his hand against his heart “By Ender you guys scared me. Are you alright? I heard one of you scream and I couldn’t see you. Didn’t I tell you guys to stay close to me for that exact reason?”

He kept on rambling along, more out of nervousness and guilt but was stopped as Wilbur looked up, turned around and just stared at his father with a confused expression. In this confusion was a worry there that made Philza almost cautious. Something was wrong after all.

Techno and Tommy followed suit, all of them finally forming an opening so he could see what they were staring at.

On the hot nether ground there was a bundle. A bundle that slowly moved around.

Philza slowly approached it, soon noticing two horns poking out of this bundle. Wrapped in this dirty brown cloth was a baby. A baby with two horns on their forehead and shimmering skin. It looked like there was shimmering ink buried beneath the skin that was now happily dancing across. There was no glow to it and yet he couldn’t describe it differently. There was a shimmer.

This was a demon baby.

His eyes widened as he realized this, fatherly instincts kicking in as he scrambled to get that child off the ground. It was most likely fine seeing how they are a demon but in his mind right now he needed to get the child off the hot netherrack.

“Dad, whose is it?” Tommy stepped closer, pulling on his fathers long sleeve. While young he seemed to understand the implications of a frail small baby just lying around on the ground, understanding that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

And he was correct. In Philza’s life he has met demons only a couple of times but has already read a lot of texts on them. While they can live in either the Overworld or the Nether most get born inside the Nether and just like humans, they usually grow up with parents at their side. Parents that taught them how the world works and showed them how to control their magical prowess.

They got the name demon by their unnatural ability and affinity for magic. Being able to control the magic of an enchanting table like no other, able to read the enchantments and crafting new ones. Some even showed outside of enchanting abilities like summoning forth fire for example.

This child was orphaned. Maybe the parents died? He has never heard stories of demons abandoning their own kin, though only because he hasn’t heard it, this doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. He just knew that they took their kin seriously and it was in their eyes one of the strongest bonds that you can have. If a demon called you their kin? That is something special and honoring.

Philza looked the child over one more time. No wounds, no jewelry not anything that could tell him what has happened here or whose baby it is.

As his hand came across the cloth, trying to see if there might be anything embroidered on there the baby instinctively grabbed for his hand. Holding on to his pinky for dear life. Accompanied by a few babbling baby noises. Melting his heart in the process but it also pulled him out of his frantic thoughts.

The next few minutes he ordered his boys to scour the place a bit. Trying to look for any hints of the baby’s parents but there was nothing.

“So, what do we do with them?” Wilbur asked, standing on the tips of his toes as he tried to get a good look at the baby again. The dark horns was what really piqued his interest. Realistically he knew things like this were possible, seeing how his father hand black wings, but it still seemed so magical and impossible.

“Do we have, uh, a new sibling?” Techno asked. His cheeks turning into a soft shade of red as he asked. His eyes darting to the ground. He still wasn’t used to this even though he was adopted and a Piglin Hybrid he was very much a part of the family.

With wide and hopeful eyes Tommy looked up at Philza “I can be a big brother?”

Oh.

Philza wanted to agree. Wanted to tell them, to greet the new member to their family but he couldn’t. Not in good consciousness when he knew there was a better option. An option that would teach the kid what they needed. He couldn’t teach them anything about magic beyond enchanting tools with an enchantment table.

Besides he did know a demon. He met him only a couple of time, so they weren’t particular close but he knew how to reach him and this seemed to be by far the best and most fair option for this baby.

So, he shook his head. All three kids almost seemed shocked at that.

“Why?” Wilbur asked, his hand now holding onto the cloth that the child was wrapped in.

“Because I couldn’t give the child what they needed but I know someone else who can give the child a proper chance at life. Listen, you don’t need to understand yet but trust me as a father. Besides I’m sure we can visit them!”

This wasn’t enough for the children obviously. Asking more questions, trying to get a specific answer. Just repeating the questions.

“That’s enough! This is my decision and as your father and as the resident adult who actually has to take care of all of you, this is my decision. You’ll understand when you get older, I promise.”

Of course there was still some groaning and mumbling but the kids noticed that this was not something they could change Philza’s mind on. Didn’t mean they have to like that though.

With that Philza guided his family back into the overworld as fast as possible. Once back out the nether he made sure to see if the baby was dealing well with the sudden environmental change but they just kept on smiling and babbling which he interpreted as a good sign.

With the help of a long range communicator Philza managed to send of a message to said demon who in return managed to visit Philza after a day using the nether as a hub to travel faster. Seeing how he needed a full day to travel using the nether roof just showcased how far he actually was.

It was Wilbur who opened up the door to him. A tall demon clad in black clothes that had grey and red accents. Two horns grew out of his forehead similar to that of the babies, his skin being a deep black vortex that seemed to swirl but whenever you tried to really concentrate on it , it seemed to disappear and move to the corner of your eye.

Wilbur rubbed his eyes “Um, hello?”

A bright and happy smile appeared on the demons face, a thin tail moving happily around in the back “Hello! Nice to meet you! I’m BadBoyHalo! Your father messaged me, can I talk to him? Is he here?”

“Dad! Someone is here at the door! Is it that guy that is gonna steal our sibling?”

It only took Philza a short moment until he arrived at the front door with the baby in his arms, washed and taken care of to the best of his abilities “Wilbur! We talked about it, he is not stealing them! I’m sorry, Bad but I appreciate you coming over.”

Both Techno and Tommy walked in behind him, obviously having caught on to what was happening. Their expressions sad and almost dark. Still thinking that this was unfair.

Bad curiously pointed at the child in Philza’s arms “That’s them? Can I take a closer look?”

He didn’t hesitate to give Bad the child. Bad might have only been an acquaintance but he knows for a fact that he is a peaceful person. Someone who only fights to protect but don’t let that fool you. He was still powerful and dangerous.

It didn’t surprise him at all when Bad poked lovingly one of the chubby cheeks of the baby and cooed “Aw, look at you! Aren’t you adorable!”

This seemed to confuse Wilbur though who saw Bad as a mighty demon, not as a demon that just melted at one look of a baby.

“What can you tell me about them?”

Bad’s happy, scrunched up face returned to normal, now looking with a serious expression towards Philza “They already have their horns which isn’t unusual but more rare. It’s close to how mine are formed so if we Demons weren’t spread thin all around the place I would say they would technically be in the same clan as me. It’s the typical form of pyromancers but that doesn’t have to be it. I can’t feel any spells on them not even any protective spells which is weird. Even if parents abandon their kids they still apply a few protective spells, hoping it will give them enough time for other Demons to find them.”

“So, you think their parents died?”

“I-“ Bad begun only to scrunch up his eyebrows, an air of sadness seemed to sweep through the room “We are so wide spread and don’t live only in the nether anymore, so, abandoning a baby hoping that another demon finds them is… rare at best. We stick together. Our kin is important to us. I don’t think this was planned. No, they would have given over their child to people they trusted. This feels wrong. Very wrong.”

His voice wavered a bit at the end. The sadness of the situation seemed to have hit him.

Philza crossed his arms as he listened, the kids now almost hiding behind him but still peeking at the strange man “That’s- I have hoped for something better somehow but I figured it would be something like this. Can you help? Will you think about my proposal?”

“I’m not sure-“ but he got interrupted by the cries of the baby but Bad reacted immediately. Slowly swaddling them and carefully wiping away their tears. Lulling them slowly to calm them down again.

“What was it you wanted to say?” Philza tried to get back on topic.

“I’m- I’m taking them home. I’ll be their father.”

A huge smile spread across Philza’s face “Well, congratulations and thank you. Do you already have a name for them in mind?”

It shocked him when Bad immediately answered “Y/N. Their name is Y/N.”

#dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #dsmp reader insert #mcyt reader insert #dream smp reader insert #badboyhalo x reader #mcyt x Y/N #dsmp x Y/N #dream smp x Y/N #badboyhalo reader insert #badboyhalo x Y/N #sbi x reader #sbi reader insert #sbi x Y/N #Ramza writes

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

I Can’t Fight This Feeling

Inspired by this

Chapter 1

Ladybug only paused momentarily as she ran. If you weren’t watching carefully, you would miss it entirely. And nobody in Paris was, their attention too focused on the ongoing akuma battle and avoiding becoming collateral damage to pay attention to Ladybug swinging away from the battle. Or rather, nobody but one persistent prowler, whose focus was and had been entirely on Ladybug.

She threw out her yoyo, attempting to get as much distance as she could in her swing. “Our shadow is back. And they’re fast and good. They’re keeping up with me. Not sure I’m going to be able to outrun them,” she commented quietly, trusting her com to pick it up. She paused for a second before giving an affirmative hum. “Just you, Rena. Chat, you stay with the akuma. We don’t know what this thing is. I don’t want to pull both of you off the akuma if we don’t have to. It’s causing too much damage to leave unattended. But, I’m almost out of time, so there’s a timer on this.”

She swung, ran, and jumped at top speed for another minute before she ducked behind a chimney and hid in an alcove. The shadow would have to be extremely good to be able to trail her, or have magic of their own, both of which were definitely options. They had been able to keep up with her for the most part and observe them in fights mostly unobserved, which no matter how well the general public and reporters thought they were, they weren’t.

But this person, whoever they were, was that good. The only reason she knew about them was because Sabrina had joined them using Barkk for only the second time, the first time being seen by the public, so she’d been able to detect them observing from the shadows. What Sabrina hadn’t been sure of was how dangerous they were. Thus far they had only observed the miraculous team, they hadn’t made any moves.

But, it appeared they were tired of waiting and she was about to find out how good they were first hand, because he was, in fact, extremely good or magic. She could hear him land on the other side of the roof. His landing may have been almost soundless, but he clearly wasn’t magic, because she could still hear it. She gripped her yoyo and tensed in preparation. She crouched down and waited until he came into view before striking. Luckily, he had expected her to try to attack from above so he had been looking above and missed her, giving her the fraction of a second she needed to get her yoyo out and wrapped around him.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be able to react quicker than a normal human and was able to avoid the brunt of the string. It wrapped around his arm instead of his body. Ladybug hesitated a fraction of a second. She didn’t want to pull too hard. If he was human, which despite the quick reaction time, he appeared to be, pulling too hard could cause irreparable damage. Damage she wasn’t sure if the miraculous ladybugs would repair since it wasn’t really akuma related.

He reacted immediately. He wrapped his arm around the string again and pulled. Ladybug fell off balance and sprawled forward. He reached out to grab her, but she twisted out of his reach. The advantage of being so clumsy all her life, she knew how to direct her falls. She pulled her string back as she fell. It instantly detached from his arm and curled back to her. Ladybug rolled out of the way of the boot that descended with a resounding thud where her head had been a few seconds earlier, leaving a slight dent in the roof where it landed.

Ladybug jumped up and backed away from him, twirling her yoyo by her waist as she scrutinized her opponent. He was large. He would give her dad a run for his money, but she seriously doubted he was as soft and gooey as her father. His outfit flowed around him, but clung enough for her to tell that he had more muscle strength in one leg than she did in her whole unsuited body. He moved with grace and confidence that spoke of elite training and skills. One thing was for certain. He was definitely a threat.

“No words?” Ladybug taunted as she jumped up. “I mean, I can tell you’re not an akuma or you would have demanded my miraculous already. But not even a villain’s dialogue explaining why you’re doing it and your justification?” The Shadow stared back at her, easing into an attack position. “That’s fine. I can work with that.” She ran at him straight on. He swung at her, but she veered at the last second and dropped to her knees, sliding past him. She twisted as she slid. Now facing him, she threw out her yoyo, binding his feet, and pulled. He fell to the ground with a resounding thud.

She was running out of time. She had maybe a minute left. Not nearly enough time to immobilize someone with his level of skills. Her eyes darted around, searching for anything that could help her formalize a plan. He took that moment to launch at her. He dived at her midsection, which was insulting quite frankly, that he thought she could be captured so easily and with his feet still bound. She realized too late, she wasn’t his target. He held up her yoyo, shaking it slightly for her to see and releasing his feet. He tossed it over the side of the building and launched at her again in the same movement.

She flipped over him, pulling his hood off as she did. She landed immediately behind him and kicked her leg out to sweep his legs out from under him. He jumped to miss her leg, but with his balance already off due to his earlier move he stumbled and crashed into the ground. He turned to glare at her. Ladybug gasped. He couldn’t be much older than her, if at all. He took advantage of her momentary pause to launch a volley of hits at her. She blocked them, but was having a hard time keeping up with the attack. She was trying not to hurt him, but he was showing no such compunction. She just had to hold out until Rena could get to her.

She backed away from him, creating necessary distance between them. She needed to distract him. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long. “Strong silent type, huh?” She arched an eyebrow at him and channeled her best Thor with a cocky grin. “I’ve fought stronger.”

“Not without your magic,” he answered calmly. It was the first time she’d heard his voice. It was deep and gravely, it didn’t match the young features, but it did match the harsh eyes.

And now she knew his plan. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take her on while she was transformed and he knew she was running out of time. He was running her out of time. He was banking on his skill to overwhelm her civilian self, and with the training he had, he was right. “Are you sure,” she asked as confidently as she could, plastering on a confident smirk.

He studied her for a few seconds before responding. “I’ll take my chances.”

She flicked her eyes to the horizon, diverting her attention. It was a stupid mistake, one she knew better than to make, but she was getting desperate for backup. The shadow grabbed her and pulled her closer to knee her in the ribs. She managed to block the hit with her own knee, lessening the impact, which was still enough that if she hadn’t been wearing a suit, her femur would have shattered. With the same momentum, she leaned forward and kicked over her head, catching him in the face.

He loosened his grip just enough for her to break his grip and jump away, but he jumped forward as well and sent another volley of attacks at her. She gasped as she felt the familiar sensation of her suit melting away as she detransformed. She braced for the pain of impact his fist would have with her face from the punch he just threw. After a second, she opened one eye to see what he was doing. His fist hovered less than an inch from her face, his eyes scanned her incredulously. “You’re a kid.”

She looked from his fist to his eyes. She took a beat to assess the situation and try to slow her wildly beating heart. “You look like you’re the same age as me,” she said pointedly. Was it her smartest move, sass instead of caution? No, but it was the one that felt right. And until she had a better idea what was going on, it was the one she was going with.

He stared at her unmoving for a few beats. “You’ve been doing this for years. It’s been you since the beginning, right?” Her narrowed eyes and pursed lips were answer enough. He lowered his fist and backed away a few steps. Still close enough to react, but giving some distance. “Fuck. You were a baby when you started. I’ve seen video of you dying. Why would you choose that? Who made you think you had to? You should have gotten to have a childhood.”

His voice was harsh and accusatory and it grated on her. He was attacking her and he was mad at her for… being attacked? She scowled at him. “I’m sorry, were you going to fight the akumas? Because it seems like your priorities might be incompatible and somebody had to protect the people of Paris, try to defend the children of Paris. And you’re awfully the same age as me for someone so judgmental of my age.”

“How about an adult instead of a kid?” he yelled back at her. He let out a long, angry breath. “And where is your mentor? There’s a Guardian, right? I’ve studied your fights and never saw an adult. Why isn’t your mentor out here fighting with you? What kind of depraved asshole just gives a few self-defense classes then sends them out on their own?”

Marinette scoffed before she realized what she was doing. She slapped a hand over her mouth and looked back up at him wide-eyed. “You have a mentor, right?” he growled as he stalked closer to her with each word. “One that taught you how to fight? One watching out for you?”

“You’ve spent the last few weeks stalking me so you could attack, and I’m guessing, put me in the grave. Why do you care?” she growled at him.

“Who is protecting you?” he yelled at her. Her continued silence seemed to confirm something for him. She was pretty sure now that the fury in his eyes was not directed toward her, which was… odd. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Marinette backed away from him slowly and nodded to Tikki to grab a cookie from her bag.

Her eyes searched the skyline for any sign of Rena. She was sure Rena would be here any second. She just needed to last another few seconds. If Rena couldn’t make it, maybe she could transform in time to save herself. And then deal with a hostile knowing her identity. But that was a problem for later. The problem for now was surviving the Shadow, recharge Tikki, and defeat the akuma.

His head whipped to the side as a movement caught his attention. A figure in orange was making their way over to them rapidly. They only had a few seconds before the figure would join them. He hissed out a breath and backed away from her. He gave her one last glare and jumped off the side of the building.

Chapter 2

@jasonette-july-event

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - grave #it's there if you squint #Enemies to is anyone going to protect this person damn it fine I’ll do it myself to strangers to seriously nobody going to protect her to #why are you looking at me like that to lovers

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laxuscouldnever · 3 years

Text

Laxus Dreyar x Dragon Slayer!Reader

Y/N was one of the first generation dragon slayers, the Earth Dragon Slayer to be exact. He was raised by Tatsuya, the earth dragon. When Y/N was 7, he awoke to an empty cave. Tatsuya was nowhere to be found. Y/N thought that maybe Tatsuya had went out for food and waited for him. He waited days, and finally, after 2 weeks had gone by, Y/N decided to go find him himself.

Y/N wandered for days with no sign of his dragon. He was starting to get worried. Eventually, he stumbled upon the town of Magnolia. He walked over to a woman near a food cart.

"E-Excuse me?" Y/N said as he tugged on her dress.

"Why hello, are you lost?" she asked as she knelt down.

"I'm looking for my dragon!" Y/N said. She gave the boy a confused look.

"A dragon you say?" a man said from behind him. Y/N turned around and saw a very short, old man.

"Why don't you come with me and we can talk about your dragon." the man said and motioned for him to follow. Y/N ran to catch up with him.

"You can call me Gramps. What's your name?" Gramps asked.

"Y/N. Who are you?" Y/N questioned.

"I'm the guild master of Fairy Tail." Gramps said. Fairy Tail? Y/N had heard Tatsuya mention it before.

"You said you were looking for a dragon, correct?" Gramps asked the boy.

"Yeah! His name is Tatsuya! Do you know him?" Y/N asked excitedly.

"No, I do not, unfortunately. But there is someone I'd like you to meet. He's about your age and he is also looking for his dragon." Y/N perked up. Does this boy practice magic, too? Y/N wondered.

Gramps led Y/N to the guild hall. From the outside, you could hear the loud voices and the laughter.

"This is the Fairy Tail guild hall. It's where all the members come and socialize." Gramps pushed open the door and allowed Y/N to walk in. Y/N looked around and stared in awe of the huge building. There were so many people in here.

"Who's the little guy?" a dark-blue haired man asked.

"Macao, this is Y/N." Gramps said. Y/N waved at the man.

"Well it's nice to meet you, Y/N. Welcome to Fairy Tail!" Macao said.

Gramps walked Y/N over to a pair of kids.

"Everyone, this is Y/N. He is looking for his dragon." A pink-haired boy looked up.

"Dragon? Like a real dragon?" he asked. Y/N nodded.

"Me too! His name is Igneel! What's your's?" Y/N stood up straight.

"His name is Tatsuya!" Y/N said.

"Cool! My name is Natsu. I'm a dragon slayer, fire to be exact." Natsu said.

"I'm a dragon slayer, too! Earth Dragon Slayer." Y/N said.

The doors to the guild hall swung open. In walked a boy, a few years older than Y/N. He had blond hair that stood up. He had headphones on and a mean look on his face.

"He looks mean." Y/N whispered to Natsu. Gramps walked over to the boy and began speaking with him.

"That's Laxus. He's Gramps' grandson." Natsu said.

"He's nothing to be afraid of." A red-headed girl said, very confidently. "My name is Erza Scarlet." she stuck her hand out. Y/N shook it.

"It's nice to meet you, Erza." he said with a smile.

Laxus and Gramps began walking towards the group of kids.

"Y/N, I'd like you to meet my grandson, Laxus." Gramps said. Laxus was taller than Y/N and seemed to tower over him.

"It's nice to meet you." Y/N said, nervous to hear what the other sounded like. Laxus didn't say anything, just nodded.

“Laxus is going to help you try and find your dragon." Gramps explained. Y/N's eyes lit up.

"Really!?" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, but I'm tired. We can go tomorrow." Laxus said.

"For now, you can stay in the guild's housing with the other children." Gramps said.

Laxus left the guild and Y/N turned to the face Natsu and Erza.

"Come on, we'll show you where you'll be staying!" Natsu said and grabbed Y/N's hand, pulling him along.

"Natsu, be careful!" Erza yelled after him.

Natsu and Erza led Y/N to a building.

"There's rooms for girls and there's rooms for boys." Natsu explained as they walked through the building. As they walked, a blue-haired boy walked out of one of the rooms.

"Hey, Gray! This is Y/N! He's a dragon slayer like me!" The boy turned to face the trio.

"Nice to meet you. Are you staying here with us?" Gray asked.

"Just for tonight. Laxus is helping him find his dragon tomorrow." Erza explained. Gray raised his eyebrow.

"Laxus? Helping someone? That's IF he shows up." Gray said. Erza slammed her fist on his head.

"Don't be rude!" she said sternly.

Natsu pulled Y/N into the room Gray had exited. Inside were two sets of bunk beds. Both of the bottom bunks looked like they had already been slept in.

"You can share a bunk with me." Natsu said.

"Cool!" Y/N said.

Natsu, Erza, Gray, Y/N, and Lisanna, who had came looking for Natsu, spent the afternoon talking, getting to know each other.

"It's getting late, we should all go to bed. Especially you, Y/N, you have a big day tomorrow." said Erza.

"Yeah!" Natsu said. Erza and Lisanna both left and the three boys all got into their bunks. They said their good nights and the room felt silent.

The next morning, Natsu woke Y/N bright and early. The sun was just rising when Y/N felt Natsu shake him awake.

"Come on! Wake up! You should eat breakfast before you and Laxus leave." Natsu said. Y/N climbed off the bunk bed and Natsu led him back to the guild hall.

At the guild hall, Natsu and Y/N led themselves to the bar and asked for some breakfast. A girl, who was later to be known as Mirajane, gave them some food. As the two were eating, Laxus walked into the guild. He approached the two.

"Finish up. We got a long walk." he said. Y/N nodded and quickly cleaned his plate.

"Hey, Y/N, if you find Tatsuya, will you ask him about Igneel?" Natsu asked as he followed Laxus and Y/N out of the guild hall.

"Of course!" Y/N said.

"Thanks!" Natsu said with a big smile.

Laxus led Y/N out of the city and into the woods.

"If we don't find this dragon of yours today, what are you gonna do?" Laxus asked as they entered a forest.

"I don't know. I don't know anything other than what Tatsuya taught me." Y/N said, keeping an eye out for his dragon.

"Maybe you should join Fairy Tail." Laxus suggested. "Keep those other brats busy."

Y/N thought for a moment. Joining a guild wouldn't be bad. It would help him grow stronger and he would be taken care of until he got older.

Laxus and Y/N walked for hours with no sign of any dragon. The sun was starting to set.

"Listen, kid, I don't think there's any dragon out here." Laxus said as he stopped walking. He looked down and saw tears prickling the boy's eyes.

"Don't cry. He's out there somewhere, but maybe you need to stay with people until you find him." Laxus said as he knelt down. Y/N wiped away his tears.

"Do y-you think I'll ever f-find him?" Y/N asked, voice wavering.

"I don't know, but I do know that you'll be safe with all of us at Fairy Tail." The two sat in silence for a few moments.

"Let's head back. It'll be dark soon." Laxus said. Y/N nodded and followed Laxus back the way they came. Y/N's feet were aching from all the walking he had done the past few days and he began to slow down. Laxus noticed that the boy was no longer next to him. He stopped and turned around. Y/N has begun limping a little bit from the ache in his feet.

"Feet hurt? The old man said you'd been walking for a long time." Y/N nodded. Laxus walked to the boy and knelt down.

"Get on my back, I'll carry you the rest of the way." he said. Y/N jumped onto Laxus's back and felt relieved.

By the time they had reached the guild hall, it was well past sundown. The streets were empty and so was the guild hall for the most part. Gramps was sitting at the bar. He turned around when he heard the door open.

"Laxus, Y/N, welcome back. I assume you didn't have much luck today?" he said.

"No, we didn't find any dragon." Laxus said. Gramps noticed the sad look in Y/N's eyes.

"Don't worry, young one. We will take good care of you, just until you find who you're looking for." Y/N smiled at the old man.

Y/N let out a yawn.

"I'll take you back to the rooms." Laxus said and carried the boy out of the guild hall.

"Thank you for helping me today." Y/N mumbled tiredly.

"Yeah, whatever." Laxus said.

"You seem grumpy." Y/N pointed out. Laxus just scoffed.

"No, I don't." he said.

"Yeah you do. And you're kinda mean looking." Y/N said.

"No, I'm not, you little punk." Laxus said. Y/N giggled a little bit.

Y/N doesn't remember much before he dozed off, he was still on Laxus's back, but when he woke up he was in bed. He sat up and looked around the room. Gray wasn't in his bed and when he looked over the edge of his bed, he saw that Natsu wasn't either. Y/N climbed out of bed and headed to the guild hall.

Y/N saw Laxus sitting alone at the bar. He didn't see the other kids, and he didn't really know anyone else there, so he made his way to the bar.

"Hey, Laxus." he said. Laxus didn't say anything, just nodded in his direction.

"So, Y/N, have you decided whether or not you're joining Fairy Tail? We could always use more members." Mirajane asked.

"Hm. I don't see why not!" Y/N said.

"In that case, you'll need the official Fairy Tail mark! Where would you like it?" Mirajane asked. "Laxus, where's your's?" Y/N asked. "On my left side." Laxus said.

"Then that's where I'll get mine!" Y/N exclaimed and pulled his shirt off. Mirajane carefully placed the mark on his left side.

Y/N looked down at the orange mark.

"Wow! That's so cool!" Y/N said excitedly.

"What's so cool?" Gramps's voice rang out.

"I got my Fairy Tail mark!" Y/N said and turned to show it to him.

"That is cool!" Gramps agreed with a smile. Y/N didn't see it, but Laxus smiled at the boy as he celebrated.

"Aw, Laxus has a new friend!" Mirajane said. Laxus rolled his eyes.

"Admit it, he's one of the few kids you can stand." she teased.

"Yeah, whatever. He's not annoying like the others." Laxus explained.

"Isn't it cool, Laxus? We're kinda like brothers now that we having matching marks!" Laxus smiled.

"Brothers, huh? I'm down with that." Laxus said and ruffled Y/N's hair. Gramps smiled at the two.

From that day on, Laxus and Y/N were inseparable. They truly were like brothers. When Laxus would leave, Y/N would get into trouble with Natsu and Gray. When Laxus would come back, he would get scolded every time. Laxus finally had someone to look after and began being a lot more careful when he was out on jobs. He didn't want the kid to have to lose someone else. He would never admit it to anyone, but he loved Y/N and would always be there for him.

#Laxus Dreyar #laxus #fairy tail #x reader #male reader #fairy tail x reader #child reader

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