#it gave me a heart attack when I logged in and everything was gone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eddiescorrodedcoffin86 · 2 years ago

Text

Long Gone

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Part 1: Me and You

Part 2: ‘86, Baby

Me and you Masterlist

You should’ve went back with Eddie and Chrissy

Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In The Forehead. Typical show violence. The way Vecna kills people. Dead Chrissy Cunningham. The iconic forest scene but with you added. You’re not jealous of Chrissy though. Cursing. Definitely not extremely happy with it but it’ll get better I’m so sorry.

“So, I didn’t wanna ask earlier cause everyone was around, but… Chrissy Cunningham?” You raised a brow, looking at him as he helped you step over a log. He laughed and nodded. “Yeah I had the same reaction, she basically cornered me by the bleachers in gym and said she needed something… but she was like twitchy and looking over her shoulder, so I figured it would help to have a… gentle female presence around.”

You blinked rapidly, looking at Eddie like he’d grown a second head before laughing. “You think I’m gentle?” You cooed teasingly as he rolled his eyes. “Awww Eeeeddddssss.” You pulled him to a stop, grinning. “You’ve got a crush on me.” You teased.

He scoffed, looking away from you as he laughed a little. “I wasn’t obvious about it?” He teased. “I get a sneaking suspicion when you tell me you love me.” “Oh, really?” He raised a brow and laughed again, shaking his head and kissing you softly. “Come on, poor Chrissy might have a heart attack out here.” He was joking but you could hear an underlying worry.

You’d known Chrissy briefly in middle school, the three of you grew close the night you went to the talent show with Eddie for moral support. After their performances, you had talked to her for all of five seconds before she was being pulled away by the cheerleading coach, Chrissy had gotten popular after joining the squad in middle school and had forgotten about you and Eddie, you had no ill will towards her though, she was always kind and Jason wasn’t such a dick with her in his presence, so you figured she was a decent person she just got swooped up in everything so you couldn’t really blame her.

You’d stepped on a small twig, the piece of wood snapping under your feet. As you stepped into the clearing you saw Chrissy backing away from a tree, looking at it with a pretty terrified look on her face. “Hey.” You said as you walked up behind her, raising your brows a bit when Chrissy spun around with a Yelp, like you’d scared her.

Eddie held his hands up. “Woah. Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you” He chuckled softly. You tilted your head a little, noticing the look in Chrissy’s eyes and immediately sat down with her. “You okay?” You asked curiously. Chrissy looked away from Eddie to look at you, nodding a little and in fact seeming to relax a bit with you around as Eddie walked around to the other side of the picnic table, setting his black lunchbox down and then sliding his jacket and vest off. God he looked really good today…

"No one comes out here." Eddie explained as he sat down. "Just me and Ed so you don't have to be scared of someone seeing you out here." Eddie leaned forward on his elbows a bit, waiting for Chrissy, who had her head down and was staring at the table, her eyes darting to Eddie's lunchbox. "So, how does this work exactly?" She asked softly, looking at Eddie curiously.

"Oh, Just like any other old sale," Eddie shrugged, looking at you and then back to Chrissy, dropping his arm from where his chin had been perched on his hand, "except, uh, cash only, and, uh, for obvious reasons, no receipts." He gave her a little half smirk and you knew he was turning on the charm a bit, even if just to help Chrissy relax, you didn't mind of course, Eddie loved you and you knew that. Besides, Chrissy was dating Jason and, despite his obvious flaws, they seemed happy, Eddie wouldn't jeopardize anyone's happiness.

Eddie looked at Chrissy quietly as she glanced off towards the woods behind him. He reached into his lunchbox for a moment and pulled out a baggy. "I'll do you a half ounce for, uh... 20. What do you say?" He held the bag up. "Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last a while." A squirrel scurried up a tree behind you, causing Chrissy to gasp and turn towards it quickly.

Eddie rolled his eyes a little dropped the baggie back in, closing the lunchbox. "Hey, uh, we don't need to do this. Just give me the word and we'll walk away." He leaned on his hand, looking at you again with a slightly annoyed look on his face before waving his hands a little. "Okay?" He grabbed the lunchbox as Chrissy started talking.

"It's not that. I don't want you guys to go." she held one hand to Eddie and one to you, gripping the sleeve of your jacket lightly to keep you from standing up. You glanced at Eddie and then at Chrissy as she continued, Eddie leaning forward on his elbows as his face softened a bit. "It's just... do you ever feel like.." she hesitated, trying to find the words as she scratched her hand on the edge of the table. "You're losing your mind?"

You let out a soft laugh, raising your brows as you nodded at her, shrugging your shoulders a bit to indicate that you did. Eddie laughed a little with you, looking at you as he fiddled with his hands before looking at Chrissy again. You were worried about her, she was usually so bubbly, at least she was around school, now she just looked.. deflated, sad, and scared, it was weird and you didn't like it, something was seriously wrong.

"Uuuumm, you know, just..., on a daily basis." Eddie grinned slowly, very obviously trying to lighten the mood. "We feel like we're losing our minds right now doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham, the queen of Hawkins High." He exaggerated his words with a playful look on his face, nodding his head along with his words, he always had to move some body part of his, it was adorable.

Chrissy smiled at him a little funny. "You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um..." Eddie pointed at her and waved his hands a bit as he looked for the right words. "Hung out." You finished for him, looking at Chrissy to see if she would remember, she didn't seem to. She looked between the two of you curiously and furrowed her brows. "No?" Her voice was light, kinda airy, and she was really pretty, you couldn't blame Eddie for being a little flustered around her.

"You don't remember?" The two of you asked in unison, Eddie's eyebrows doing that little thing where they jerked up and it caused the corners of his mouth to turn up into a pretty little smile. "I'm sorry. I-" she looked between the two of you as you shook your head to show it wasn't a big deal. "That's okay." Eddie said softly, and then proceeded to look off into the woods, a little dramatically, and you knew a performance was coming.

Suddenly, Eddie slammed his hand into his chest and flung himself back onto the ground like he'd been stabbed. "Ah!" Chrissy jumped and grabbed the table, surprised by Eddie's outburst as you laughed. Eddie rolled around in the leaves as he stood up, walking towards a tree. "I wouldn't remember us either, Chrissy, well me, y/n i could never understand, how can you forget such a face." You rolled your eyes and shook your head as you laughed, leaning down onto the table to calm yourself.

He dusted leaves off of himself as you and Chrissy laughed. "Honestly," he spun around, your laughter getting worse when the two of you saw the leaves in his hair. "do I have stuff in my hair?" He looked at the two of you with a funny look, combing the leaves from his hair like he knew where they were. "You don't remember us?" He stepped forward, his arms crossing over his chest. "So rude, Chrissy. Honestly." You teased, nudging the girl playfully. "I'm sorry." Chrissy giggled, looking between the two of you.

"Middle school, talent show." You tried to jog her memory a little. "You were doing this cheer thing. You know, the... the thing you do." You and Chrissy laughed as he waved imaginary pom-poms. "It was pretty cool actually." "It was. I was there for moral support for Eddie." You agreed with a soft laugh. "And I... I was with my band."

"Corroded Coffin." Chrissy spit out the words like she couldn't stop them, blinking rapidly as the name was thrusted to the forefront of her mind. Eddie clapped rapidly and did this adorable little victory dance spin thing. "Corro- you do remember." He pointed at her energetically.

"Oh my God! Yes, of course. With a name like that how could I forget?" Chrissy seemed genuinely confused that she forgot about the two of you. "I dunno. You're a freak." Eddie teased, hands crossed in front of him. Chrissy looked a little surprised by the use of the nickname, but was still smiling. "No, you just... you guys just looked so-"

"Different?" You laughed softly. "Well, Eddie's hair was buzzed, and I had braces and big stupid glasses until my eyes corrected themselves." "And i didn't have these sweet old tatties back then." Eddie grinned and tugged the collar of his shirt down a bit, exposing some hickies as well as the zombie head tattoo on his chest.

"You played guitar, right." Eddie nodded, hands on the back of his hips. "Still does, and he's a God." You teased. Eddie flushed and nodded. "Yep, still do." "You should come see them." You nodded. "I'll be there it'll be super fun, and they're really good." "We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays." "it's pretty cool." "We... We actually get a crowd of about.. fiiiiive drunks and y/n." You and Chrissy laughed. "So six drunks." You corrected playfully. "Basically." He grinned.

"It's not exactly the Garden, but you gotta start somewhere, right? So..." He turned around and started lightly punching the tree behind him. Aw he was flustered. "You know, you guys aren't what I thought you'd be like." "Mean and scary?" You teased as Eddie pulled some hair in front of his mouth to hide a smile. "Yeah." "Yeah, well, we actually kinda thought you'd be mean and scary too." Chrissy looked genuinely surprised as Eddie moved closer, smiling in awe as she looked between the two of you. "Me?" "Terrifying." You said laughing softly as Eddie sat down, nodding his head in agreement.

"Uh, so," Eddie picked the lunchbox back up and set it on the table. "In other good news flattery works with me, so..." he leaned his chin on his fist, grinning and nodding his head, Chrissy giggling a little and looking down with a smile. "Twenty-five percent discount for the half." He flipped it open and pulled the half ounce back. "Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here, you know." His waved his hands a bit, getting this goofy adorable smile on his face again.

Chrissy opened and closed her mouth a couple times, a little hesitant before responding. "Do you have anything... maybe... stronger?" She looked up at him. This threw Eddie off a bit and he leaned back, looking at her curiously.

"Uh..." He looked at you and then back to Chrissy. "Yeah, but, uh, I don't bring it to school with me so it'll have to wait until later. Can ya wait?" Chrissy shifted a little before nodding. "I can wait. Thank you.. I should get going before Jason starts to look for me before the game.. it was nice talking to you guys." She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down as she stood up.

"Yeah, you too." You stood up and smiled softly. "I have work soon so I won't be able to come with." "Oh.. okay, well, then I'll talk to you whenever I can and I'll see you later, Eddie." "See ya, Chrissy." She hurried off into the woods after the goodbye and you frowned a little.

"Chrissy Cunningham buying drugs... and wanting something stronger than weed?" You mumbled. "I know.. maybe she's tired of hearing Jason's grating voice." Eddie seemed pretty proud of his comment and you couldn't help but give him a light laugh, shaking your head. "Shut up and let's get you to Hellfire so you can kick their asses, if I'm late again my boss will have my ass."

"Oh what ever will they do without you there to hand out the shitty prizes." "It's vital to the company." You replied blandly, sarcasm seeping through as Eddie laughed, his arm stretching over your shoulder as you walked to the Hellfire room. You wished him luck and gave him a kiss before leaving.

You went home to shower and change into your arcade shirt and a pair of jeans, walking to the arcade since it wasn't too far away.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Your shift was boring, and way longer than what it was supposed to because last minute someone called in and your had to fill in for them until almost daylight, you didn't know why your boss thought a 24 hour arcade was a good idea, but he did. You got home at the same time as Wayne, frowning when you didn't see Eddie's van, Wayne looked confused to see you but not Eddie. "Y/n? Where's Eddie?"

"I don't know he should be here, he hasn't come to the arcade." You shook your head and went to the door, pulling it open and jumping back with a short scream at the sight of Chrissy Cunningham twisted up almost like a pretzel on the living room floor. "Oh my god." You gagged a little and covered your mouth, turning away as Wayne stepped forward to look. "Oh my... Eddie!" He immediately ran into the trailer as your mind started racing, nausea rising.

Neither of you could find Eddie anywhere. "I gotta find him." You panted softly, hands on your knees as you wiped vomit from the corner of your mouth before Wayne was pushing his keys into your hand. "Get outta here, go find him." He nudged you towards his truck and jogged into the house to the call police.

When you were pulling out of the trailer park Max Mayfield stepped in front of the car, causing you to slam on the breaks. "Jesus- Max?! What the hell are you doing?!" You asked as she opened the passenger door and got in. "We gotta pick up Henderson." You grunted a little and sighed. "I'm kinda in the middle of something, Max." "Looking for Eddie? Yeah, well, he's gonna need a lot of help. So let's go." Her voice was firm, way too grown up for a 14 year old, and you found before looking forward as she put her seatbelt on. "Bossy." You muttered, driving to Dustin's house, you followed her to his bedroom window. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" "Of course it is, it's an emergency."

"Why... are you all so chaotic." You mumbled, watching her tap repeatedly on the window. After a moment Dustin's head popped up at the window and he widened his eyes before pushing the window open. "Max? y/n? What are you doing here?" He whispered, looking back at his door and then his desk, a muffled voice calling out, hm, was he talking to Suzie?

"Eddie's gone." Max started with, causing you to blink rapidly. "Just gonna.. jump right into it then." You mumbled before clearing your throat. "Something.. happened to Chrissy when she bought from him last night and when I got home he was gone and she was..." you cleared your throat. "We need to find him." Max shifted the direction of the conversation, glancing at you and then at Dustin.

"Um... hang on." He leaned into his room and picked up a phone off his desk, definitely talking to Suzie, you heard him whisper a lie about his mom waking up, then a soft I love you, making you laugh a little, before he hung up the phone. "We have to wait for Family Video to open." "Why exactly?"

"Because then we have more phones to call around asking for Eddie. Duh.” Dustin squinted at you and you squinted back. Wow this kid needed an attitude adjustment. “Now get in here before someone sees you, and be quiet.” He ushered the two of you into the room, you helped Max in and then climbed in with a small huff.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Max quietly filled you and Dustin in while you waited for a decent time, deciding 9 was the perfect time to slip out of Dustin’s window and around the front to have Max ask if he could come out, you stayed off to the side of course.

With a shout of ‘Dusty!’ Dustin was practically sprinting to the door, stopping to give and receive a kiss from his mother before you were getting into Wayne’s truck and driving to Family Video.

When you walked in Robin and Steve looked over from where they were watching the tv, your home now on full display in the background, police filling the screen behind the news anchor. “Have you guys seen this? Y/l/n. What are you doing here? Aren’t you usually with Eddie.”

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin didn’t give you time to answer Steve, pressing his hands down on the counter and looking at home expectantly. “What? Why?” “How many phones do you have?” He repeated, harsher than before and you raised a brow, shaking your head a little and looking at Steve.

“We need to find Eddie.” “What the Hell do you need to find him for?” Steve frowned deeply. “You two are usually shoved so far up eachother’s asses it’s hard to tell where one of you starts and the other one ends.” He scoffed lightly. “Cute.” You replied sarcastically.

You stepped back and watched as Dustin haphazardly jumped over the work counter, knocking over several tapes in the process. “Woah! Hey!! My tapes!” Steve shouted, throwing his hands up and kneeling down to put the tapes back on the counter, frowning deeply and shaking his head as he sighed.

You walked around the side, smiling at Robin when she lifted the small door so you could step behind the counter. “Why can’t you guys just go looking for him. You’re his girlfriend.” Steve scoffed after Max explained what happened. “And how do we know-“ “if you suggest Eddie is guilty I’ll break your arm.” You looked up from the phone to glare at Steve. “Eddie wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. Much less Chrissy Cunningham. We’re looking here because driving around looking for my boyfriend who is no doubt soon going to be wanted for murder, and me probably an accomplice, is the dumbest thing we could do.”

Steve rolled his eyes but continued to help you, Max, Robin, and Dustin call around looking for Eddie. Of course, you had no luck, he wasn’t hiding out at Gareth’s or Jeff’s or any of the guys from the Hideout. “You haven’t seen or heard from him at all?” You asked Gareth, panic obvious in your voice as you rubbed your forehead with one hand.

“No, y/n. Sorry, man. Hey uh… try Reefer Rick. You guys have his number or something right?” “No he usually calls Eddie when he’s got his supply and he doesn't take me with him…” your eyes gazed over to the computer withstand used to check movies in and out. “… but I might be able to find it. Thanks, Gareth. I'll try to keep you up to date on what’s going on.” “Alright. Good luck.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

After about five minutes of searching through the movies every Rick in town watched you stopped Robin. "Cheech and Chong? that's definitely him." You laughed softly. "Eddie just came home talking about that last one."

"Alright, let's go." Robin stood up and you all turned around to face Steve. "Woah, woah. We can't just leave in the middle of the day, Robin." "Fine, then you stay here and we'll go look for Eddie." Robin grabbed your arm and pulled you around the counter to the door, Max and Dustin following closely.

Steve threw his hands up and scoffed. "Yeah, right." He muttered. "I’m the only one that can drive." You heard him mutter before grabbing his keys and walking around the counter, locking the door behind him as you all piled into his car. You left Wayne's keys in his truck since the five of you wouldn't be able to fit in it, leaving it sitting there in the parking lot.

As Steve drove to Reefer Rick’s all you could think about was Eddie, wishing over and over that he was alive, occasionally bombarded with the possibility that he could have ended up like Chrissy, twisted up, dead.. and all alone and scared when it happened… it was making you nauseas.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Tag List:

@lunar-flwr @dahliarose3 @minimnmsdotcom @ranibewsprimskle @fabienne250503 @camcanyon @catherinnn @kaz120 @kiki51199 @babyali622 @nanamunath @giovannasgarden @munsonboyblog @meaganjm @kooksfor-life @ali-r3n @manitskatrina @you-arethepan @sleepy-zodiac @ilostmysoulbruh @literallylikepoison @mxbrbi @lov3ly-3m @slutfor-munson @slut-for-fictional-men-kms @rmeddar123 @redpool @spookykylie @sebby-staan @vulcrum332 @raybaeray @that-one-writer @littlebatsimagines @imagine-all-the-imagines @tvserie-s-world @geekmom3 @mlvgren @scentedstudentfestivalclod @princeeric @hurricane-abigail @theanxietyqueen17 @celestialallysum @darksoul100 @hwrteye @hellfire-fan-club @notbeforelong @the-achievementhunter @jessicainhell @whitemanshoe19 @brofistsandhoranhugs-blog @ssareids-coffee @eosprincess @neuroticpuppy @cococrazy18 @mainstreambitchlife @sydnee-writes @periodtbluddd @captainkokosnuss @rushintothewild @pnks-stuff @c0untryclub @dhdjdhbdh @whoreformenwithlonghair @turnmyknuckleswhite @chaoticlovingdreamer @lokidokidarling @frozenhuntress67 @superflannel @ruinedbythehobbit

#stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson’s rings #eddie the banished #eddie the freak munson #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x female reader #me and you #me and you part 3

33 notes · View notes

ladyelainehilfur · 3 years ago

Text

just watched Strike Back, in literal tears wtf

FELIX YOU BASTARD I WILL COME FOR YOU I WILL COME FOR YOUR FAMILY I WILL STEAL YOUR KNEECAPS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT MEET ME OUTSIDE OF DENNYS I'M GOING TO JUMP YOU YOU MOTHUF0-OUBKCJ LV KHNB,VJN

I was so afraid Ladybug was going to think the real Adrien betrayed her and never trust him again

Thank god Ladrien stays consistent, we won today

WHERE WAS LUKA. HE COULD'VE COME INTO CLUTCH AGAIN. WHERE WAS HE, LADYBUG!!!

look, I'm shaking because why did Chat Noir have to show up in the rain, and tell her he was there and pull her into that damn HUG I WAS LITERALLY CRYING OKAY

my heart aches so bad sis

Alya having to give up the fox 😭 Ladybug looked so heartbroken about the whole thing and they both CRIED THEY WANTED US TO SUFFER

plus the fact Alya was ultimately the one who gave up the secret because she genuinely just can't keep anything away from Nino my hearttttttttttttt

wait, Adrien still has that spyglass right? He could totally look for his mom

Why was the first thing I saw when I logged onto tumblr dot com a meme celebrating the fact shadowmoth's uglyass costume is gone for good 🤡

Their sunglasses were so cool omg I want a pair

SORRY BUT SENDING THE SENTIMONSTDERS INTO THE LITERAL SUN LADYBUG WHAT IN THE FRESH HECK

again, I will hunt you down Felix!!!!!! How dare you betray ladybug!! I don't care that you said sorry, YOU NEED TO GO TO PRISON. For aiding and abetting a terrorist!!

man, Adrien taking care of her during her panic attack 😭 and he looked so sad she took off before he could comfort her further

I'm sorry I ever doubted you kitty. Me and ladybug both.

sorry but I won't be accepting any PennyBug slander today SHE ATE THAT COSTUME UP LIKE IT WAS A THREE COURSE MEAL

damn ladybug really threw Sabrina under the bus giving "Adrien" the dog and saying they'd be working together forever 💀I get maybe all this while she'd been looking to add him on since his failure as Aspik but I still feel bad for Sabrina.

What was up with Chloe and Zoe standing together at the end there? I guess Chloe didn't consider hawkmoth terrorizing the city worth the thrill of harassing Marinette.

speaking of Hawkmoth, imagine how scary it must be to be a Parisian. He said he'd watch every single thing they did, hunt them in their dreams and wreak non-stop havoc. And yet, they still rallied for ladybug. I got so emotional at that.

Lila just looks so unimpressive standing right next to Felix. she couldn't achieve in 4 seasons what he did in less than 5 episodes.

Someone get Nathalie away from the drama, this woman needs to rest up

I'm glad ladybug admitted she mistreated chat basically all season. She was able to recognize her mistake. maybe the writing has hope just yet.

holy cow batman, I heard ALL the fanfic writers cry out in pain when she flashed back to chat blanc when chat noir said he couldn't get akumatized

In conclusion, I was floored by this finale. It took twists and turns I didn't expect out of Miraculous and it was such an emotional ride, especially for long time viewers who've grown with ladybug and want to see her succeed. It hurt me on a personal level to see Ladybug kicked down to the ground, feeling like she lost everything. Then Chat telling her they'd rebuild, taking back each miraculous one by one. What a finale. The best one yet. I can't wait for the movie and I can't wait for season five.

#chills I've got chills #ending this season with a bang and a shot to the heart #I'm officially no longer a fan of felix #is he well written? yes #but I don't like anyone who puts marinette through that type of agony #ml strike back #strike back spoilers #ml s4 spoilers #gloob spoilers #ml s4 finale spoilers

23 notes · View notes

serasvictoria · 3 years ago

Text

So I was supposed to be writing an incubus Hvitserk drabble and instead I got this beast that’s a little in over 2k long…

Under the moon, the wolves gather

“You want me to do what?”

“Chain me up.”

Ubbe held up the thick chains and a heavy padlock. You looked at them and then up at him again in confusion. Why was he asking you to do this? The two of you had dabbled in some kinky stuff a couple of times before, but asking you to chain him up was new and you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to subject him to something like that. What if you did it wrong? Besides, the roles were usually very much reversed. Ubbe wasn’t exactly what you’d call submissive. He had always very much been the alpha in your relationship and you liked it that way.

“Did you get this idea from Ivar?” You grabbed one of the ends of the chain and lifted it up. It looked like the kind of chains that people used to tow cars, not like something that people used in sexual games. “I know that he’s into some sick shit, but this is next level…”

“It’s not about that.” He sighed deeply, growing exasperated with your inability to get why he was asking you this. “It’s about that attack.”

“The animal.”

It hadn’t happened that long ago. Ubbe had been in the woods that stretched out at the back of the house. He later told you that he had heard noises and had gone to investigate while you slept. You always slept like a log so you hadn’t even noticed that he had gotten out of bed to begin with. It wasn’t until he stumbled back in later on, crashing against the door that led into the bedroom, covered in blood and using his shotgun as some sort of makeshift crutch, that you had even realised that he had gone outside.

He started rambling incoherently about how there had been something in the woods that had attacked him, something big and black, something that had scratched him and sunk its teeth into his shoulder. Thankfully Ubbe hadn’t just lain down and given up. Not him. Despite the fact that the animal had a firm grip on his shoulder, Ubbe had started throwing punches wherever he could hit it. From what you had heard from others, he had a mean right hook and he had once broken the jaw of some idiot who had decided to hit on Ubbe’s then girlfriend. It was safe to say that something like that had never happened again afterwards.

Somewhere in between hitting the animal’s muzzle, it had released him and howled in pain. Ubbe had launched his full weight into the animal, knocked it against the ground and had run back into the house. You could only assume that his adrenaline had taken over at that point. While you did your best to clean out his injuries, he was pointing the barrel of his shotgun at the door right behind you in case whatever the hell had attacked him followed him into the house.

It never came.

The ambulance came half an hour later and after spending the good part of the following day in the hospital, where they disinfected his wounds and gave him a rabies shot just in case, he was home again. He did nothing but lay in the bed and sleep for the following two days. You assumed that it was because of shock, but you weren’t exactly an expert. Hvitserk came by to check on his brother daily and he reassured you that you probably didn’t have to worry. He checked the injuries with you and despite the fact that they looked horrific to you, Hvitserk had confidently stated that your concerns were unnecessary. According to him they were healing just fine. Apparently. Again, you were no expert.

It wasn’t until Ubbe eventually woke up, got out of bed and started eating again that you could finally breathe easily. He acted the same way he usually did. Just the same caring and sweet soul that you had first fallen for.

But then odd things started to happen. His sense of smell seemed to have gotten better. Even to the point that when he was out in the woods, which he patrolled almost endlessly in case the animal came back, he always seemed to materialise from out of nowhere because he could smell that you were making him a sandwich for lunch. That had actually happened a couple of times. Didn’t matter how far away from the house he was, he could smell food. His wounds also healed at a speed that seemed far from normal. About a week after he had gotten attacked, all that you could see were faint markings on his skin, like they were old scars. And one night you had found him in the kitchen while he was eating a raw steak that you were going to cook him the next evening.

Odd things. Too many things to count. And now this.

“I know what it was.”

“I thought it was a bear?” Despite the fact that Ubbe had sworn high and low that it was some kind of wolf-like creature that had attacked him, you knew that it couldn’t be the case. There were no wolves near where you lived. But there were bears so maybe he had gotten it mixed up while he had been attacked? It had been night after all. “It couldn’t have been anything else.”

“It was a werewolf.”

“A werewolf?” You shook your head. “Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright?” You instantly recalled a line from a werewolf movie that you had seen a couple of times. “One of those?”

“Not like in the movies.” He held the chain out to you again and you took it with some slight hesitation. “This is real.”

“Come on. Werewolves aren’t real.”

“Just stop arguing with me and do it.” Tired of talking, he grabbed your hand and dragged you down into the basement. There were hooks anchored into the wall down there which one of the previous occupants had installed for reasons that were entirely unknown to you. “Wrap the chain around my chest and arms. Lock them together. Then go back upstairs and don’t come down here to check on me no matter how much noise I make.”

“Ubbe, this isn’t funny.” He wasn’t one to play pranks on you, but there was a first time for everything. “Why are you even asking me to do this?”

“Because I don’t know what I’ll do if I change. Please just…”

“What if I lose the key to this padlock? Am I supposed to just call Ivar and ask him to bring his bolt cutters? How is that going to look?”

“Just do it!” In all the time that the two of you had been together, he had never once raised his voice at you. You dropped the chain out of your hands and stared at it as it lay at your feet. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He grabbed your hands and angled himself in such a way that you had to look at him. “It’s just… there’s not a lot of time. I don’t know when it’ll happen, when I’ll change…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You brushed your hand over his cheek and smiled at him. “Do you really want me to do this?” He nodded. “This is definitely one of the weirdest things I’ve ever done…”

Ubbe sat in front of the wall and you picked the chain up off the floor again, but before you could take the remaining few steps in his direction, his face twisted in agony. The chain was instantly forgotten and you made it to his side, cupping his face in your hands to make him look at you, but he pushed at your chest hard instead. You landed on your ass on the hard concrete floor. Swearing loudly, you’d been about to ask him what the hell his problem was, but all words failed you when you looked in his direction again.

He was laying on the floor, back arched, clawing at his chest and tearing at his clothes, like they were constricting him. It wasn’t until he managed to tear the fabric away, that you noticed that his nails had gotten longer and not only that, his hands seemed to have changed. Stretched out and deformed, his palms lengthened to almost inhuman proportions. His shirt gave way and when you saw his chest you started scooting away from him, moving backwards until you were sitting underneath the stairs, your back pressed against the wall behind you.

His claws were tearing at his skin, creating large openings in his skin and fur started poking through somehow. His jeans tore open as the entire lower part of his body started transforming as well, legs getting even longer than they already were. You could hear his bones breaking and he started howling, his own voice turning into something more animalistic the longer he kept going. You slammed your hands over your ears in a weak effort to stop yourself from hearing him, but it was to no avail. Nothing could stop that noise from reaching your ears.

Rolling over, he was on his hands and knees now, his limbs changing to something new, more wolflike. The scream that had kept pouring from his mouth got lower as his rib cage expanded. His face was the last thing to change. His entire skull was shifting. His jaw elongated to properly accommodate his new teeth and where had once been his nose, a muzzle was appearing, pushing itself out of his skull. His ears, longer and pointier, started appearing out of his fur. Somewhere in his howl, his own voice still appeared to be mixed in there, making it sound altogether eerier. Right before he collapsed to the floor, he turned his head in your direction and you saw that his beautiful blue eyes had turned yellow.

You released a shuddering breath when you saw that he wasn’t changing anymore, but when you saw him shift, you were frozen. You found yourself wishing that you could press yourself further back into the wall or that you could get your legs to move. But even if you could make your muscles cooperate, what would you do? He could probably smell you. The fear that was wafting from your pores was bound to be some delicious perfume that he’d be able to follow no matter where you went. On the off chance that you even managed to make it outside, he’d probably pounce on you before you ever got into the car and then he’d tear you limb from limb right there on the driveway.

You didn’t stand a chance.

Where his transformation had obviously hurt him immensely, none of that pain was present now. He got to his feet and shook his head. Where Ubbe had been before, a huge wolf now took his place. A whimper escaped from your lips and he turned himself in your direction almost lazily, big yellow eyes completely fixed on you. His movements were slow, probably not seeing the need to throw himself on you when it was quite obvious that you weren’t going to move anyway. It was almost as if he moved in slow motion and the closer he got, the more that you became aware of the fact that saliva was dripping from his lower jaw. He took in a deep breath, taking your scent in deeply and he blinked once before moving in even closer.

Right before he stuck his head underneath the stairs, you closed your eyes and found yourself silently saying prayers to whichever god you could think of, praying that it would be over soon and that you’d go quickly at least. As soon as his warm breath hit your face, you stopped breathing, too terrified to even take as much as another breath. It wasn’t until your lungs started burning up from lack of oxygen that you finally took in another deep breath. You opened one eye carefully while you waited for him to move. Instead you found him looking at you almost curiously with those new big yellow eyes of his.

Completely out of the blue, he suddenly pressed his muzzle against your neck, taking in another deep breath, before turning his head so he could lick your cheek. You wiped at your cheek when you felt the wetness and he briefly looked down, almost apologetic in his gesture, before fixing his eyes on you again. With shaking hands you reached out, slowly moving towards his head and when he didn’t move, you ran a hand down his jaw. He eased into your touch almost immediately and you saw his back leg move to scratch at his side when you scratched his ear. When you giggled nervously, he fell down onto his side and nudged at your legs with his nose. You stretched your legs out in front of you and he dropped his head down onto your thighs, putting one of his paws over you to make sure you couldn’t pull away.

“What am I going to do with you now, huh?” He cracked open one eye to look at you and you leaned forward to press your lips on his head. “Big bad wolf.”

*****

Tagging: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @methotrex8 (I forgot to do it last night, it was late!)

#vikings #vikings au #ubbe the wolf #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe ragnarsson #mar writes #mar moodboards

84 notes · View notes

vanillann · 4 years ago

Text

real or not real? (natasha romanoff x reader)

a/n: this is based off the hunger games because i just finished reading the books!! also a little badass woman fic because of international woman’s day!! love all woman, I MEAN ALL WOMAN!!

word count: 1.6k

natasha romanoff masterlist

As I finally landed, I watched everyone face drop once they recognized who I was. My brain felt like static as I took the steps to where the team was camped out.

I watched Steve Rogers, I think that’s what the file I was given said, stand up and look at the other members of the squad. As he approached I felt flashes of memories, or maybe memories, flood me.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” The blond approached me but stopped a few feet away. He tried to keep his voice clear of emotion but it was useless, I couldn’t be trusted yet.

“I was told you needed back-up,” I didn’t bring up how the nice blonde woman, I think she said her name was Pepper, argued with Mr. Fury for days about me re-joining the team.

“Well you came just in time.”

By the look in his eye, I didn't want what he wanted in the slightest.

I followed him to the tents that were hidden among the trees, a shiver going up my spine when I made eye contact with any members of the team.

I could see old versions of myself interacting with each, but some felt so real and some felt so fake I couldn’t put them right in my mind.

One I caught the red head, Natasha, eye I felt my body grow stiff. She was common in my memories, some of her gentle and meaningful and some of her enraged with bullets flying at me. Tony had informed me that most of the bad memories are Hydra’s doing, that they were never real. I couldn’t help but wonder how true that was as she backed away from me when I walked past her.

“(Y/N) was dropped off for back-up,” Mr. Rogers spoke from behind me, taking the seat next to the brunette with the metal arm. I had spoken to him twice when I was in the hospital, apparently he had something to do with my capture and refused to see me more after that.

“Um, Cap?” Clint, or was it Carl, spoke up. He gave me a few side glances but said nothing else until he was pulled aside.

As soon as they were out of ear shot I watched them go at each other, arguing about who knew what, most likely me. I did my best to ignore the eyes on me, but I couldn’t help but snap.

“Have something to say?”

All eyes flooded off me, except for Natasha who crossed her arms and stared me down.

“You aren’t going to try and kill me again, are you?”

Her question enraged me, but I had no reason to be mad. I was the one who attacked, but I swore she was after me.

“I thought you were a threat,” my words felt icy as they hung in the air.

“I wasn’t before and I’m not now,” her words were just as cold, running in my blood like a river in December.

“Look I’m sorry, okay? I have all these memories and I can’t tell what’s real or not, so yes I attacked you,” I sat against the log farthest from anyone, so I couldn’t hurt someone.

“Then ask.”

Mr. Rogers came back, taking the seat he took seconds ago and watched me closely. He looked more opened to talking then the C man that came back with him.

“Will that work?” I looked to Banner, the doctor who checks on me often when I was strapped to the hospital bed.

“It can’t hurt,” he shrugged his shoulder and continued to look around the group. They spoke with their eyes and I couldn’t help but wonder would the old me under their silent conversation.

“I was a part of your group, real or not real?”

“Real,” Rogers spoke up, nodding to each member as if to tell them it was okay, but I couldn’t be sure of that.

I nodded, letting the fake and real memories flood me within every inch of my brain. I had enough questions to keep them up all night.

“I was kidnapped in my sleep by Hydra, real or not real?”

“Real,” the man with the metal arm spoke this time, giving me the nod this time and I felt as if he was letting me join their secret conversation.

“It was a few months ago, we couldn’t get to you in time,” Banner filled me in more.

I could vaguely remember the screaming and the way my bed-sheets felt that night, but everything else was slightly blurry.

“Natasha tried to kill me, real or not real?”

“Not real,” she was quick to set me straight, giving me a look I couldn’t read but I didn’t mind it, not when it was coming from her.

She was the only person being straight with me, not jumping around the conversation that I needed to have for my sake.

“You’re favorite color is Orange, real or not real?” I didn’t take my eyes off her, the conversation felt so intimate even if everyone was watching.

“Yes, and yours in red because you say it reminds you of my hair,” she looked to her hands, rubbing them up and down the side of her thighs.

“Okay,” I nodded as I absorbed the information about myself, the first piece of information I’ve heard that wasn’t in a file.

“I think we should start getting some sleep, we have a long day ahead,” Rogers pointed to his tent, his voice soft yet firm.

Nobody disagrees, each telling the other goodnight while I got head titles and I'm waves. The only people to tell me goodnight were Rogers and his friend, who I think was named James but I remembered his face clearly now.

I was once his friend too.

I didn’t move from my log, I couldn’t sleep much anyways and I couldn’t be shoved into a tent alone and expected not to go crazy. I said nothing as Natasha moved a few logs closer to me, staring at the ground as she waited.

“Anymore questions?”

“Plenty, but do you have the answers?” I ducked my head, hoping to get a glimpse of her eyes but I was memorized when I did.

Her face flashed over my brain, the same red but straighter and her eye shined under a street lamp. Her lips were as soft as hotel pillows and her touch was like magic as it ghosted over my shoulder.

She looked like magic before the sight was gone and I watched her slightly dirty hair hang in her eye, that wasn't as bright, and the memories started to fog again.

“You kissed me, real or not real?”

The silent felt like screaming as she chewed on her bottom lip, waiting for her words to work.

“Real.”

It wasn’t as confident as her words before, but it felt so much more honest than anything I remembered.

“How did I think you wanted to kill me then?”

“Hydra turned all your memories of me to shit, all the ones they knew about,” she rolled something in-between her finger and I wanted to ask but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

“Do you remember any good ones?”

She held back a laugh, finally looking up from the ground to me with a sad smile stretch on her lips.

“Plenty,” she nodded, going back to the object in her hand.

“Tell me about them, please?”

The ‘please’ sounded so desperate in my head, but it seemed to bring her ease as she moved her body to face me.

“We used to window shop like crazy together,” she looked up at my confused face and continued, “it’s like walking around and looking at stuff you’ll never buy.”

The memories of walking on a sidewalk with her filled me up, the feeling of gentle flowers brushed against my skin filled me.

“Then one time, after we kissed, you pulled me into this antique store and told me to pick something. We argued about it for ten minutes before you gave me this look I could never say no to, so I grabbed the closet thing and told you it’s what I wanted. It was the locket, I hate wearing it because it's so big so I keep it in my pocket,” she held out the locket in question, waiting for me to draw closer and once I did she opened it.

Inside was a photo of me, rolling my eyes at the camera but a hint of a smile on my lips. I looked so content for someone rolling their eyes, I wonder if I always like that.

“You were, never took many things seriously,” I didn’t realize I spoke out loud, but I was glad I did when she almost laughed at the memories.

That when it started to really hit me, not just the memories but the feelings. They laughs and the jokes, and all the inbetweens. I didn’t really know what I was saying, not for a while, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“You love me, real or not real?”

Her answer wasn’t hesitate, even with the same pause, she knew as soon as I asked she just wasn’t ready to say it.

“Real,” her voice was barely above a whisper but I heard it.

I wanted to respond with ‘me too’ or something along the lines, but my answer was much more complex and I couldn’t only hope she understood.

“I think the old me loved you back, from how I feel when I think of the little things, and I can only hope the new me can remember why.”

I was scared when she said nothing, as if I made an impossible situation worse, but when she looked up at me her eyes twinkled again and her hair appeared redder.

“Let me know when you do?”

“You’ll be the first to know, Nat.”

join the taglist!!

leave a request!!

permanent taglist:

@kittykylax @itstaylorcale @head-over-heart @marvel-rhapsody @accioxtina @always-spaced-out @carnations-red @onetoomanyfilms @suranne-doesstuff @fandomxreaders @succulentmom

marvel taglist:

@lovinlikeloki @zizzlekwum @waywardwifey @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @buckysbeloved @winchestersgirl222 @fandom-life-12 @kiss-themoongoodbye @procrastingsapphuctrash

(if your name is crossed out it wouldn’t let me tag you)

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow imagine #black widow x you #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #marvel x reader

159 notes · View notes

bartistic · 4 years ago

Text

Bruce Goes To The Market!

knife tw, food cw, incredibly dumb self-indulgent concept cw, outsider (oc) pov

It is universally acknowledged that a cashier possessing free time, will be in want of an extra task to fill that free time. At least, that’s what James’ managers seemed to think. Privately, he agreed, as he found restocking the shelves to be a most agreeable pastime, one that could in fact suck up hours of his eight hour closing shift.

He was in the soda aisle, debating whether sparkling water belonged with seltzer or with the rest of the store brand items, when he noticed a broad-shouldered man in sunglasses and a Gotham University sweatshirt, inspecting the selection of diet tonic water and looking utterly flummoxed. Customer in need of assistance!

“Hi, how are you doing tonight? You need help finding anything?” Mentally, James winced at the preppy-ness of his ‘customer service robot voice’ as his favorite coworker Stephie liked to call it. Luckily, he’d thrown his voice out enough screaming to Queen karaoke the night before that his voice stayed in the normal octaves rather than shooting into the stratosphere. The man straightened up and looked down towards James, who suddenly felt very short in all of his 5’9” glory. (Well, 5’8 3/4” but who’s counting.)

“Yes, actually. I’m new to the store, could you direct me to where the soap is?” Oh god. Of all the things it had to be the one item James swore was never in the same aisle twice.

“Of course!” He lied through his teeth. “Here, right this way.” Turning, he set off towards the general direction of where the soap tended to lie, with a variation of four different aisles. Luckily, the first aisle was correct, and he watched, intrigued, as the customer gave a thorough inspection to at least 14 different bars of soap. “Anything else I can help you with?” He added, as the man finally selected a bar and placed it in his basket. The man looked sheepish.

“This is actually the first time I’ve been in a grocery store. I’m not usually the one doing the shopping. My—the person I live with gave me a list, but I honestly don’t know where or even what half of these things are.” He held out a grocery list, scrawled in an elegant cursive. It was double-sided. James checked the front of the store, where the other cashier was engrossed in his phone while trying not to appear engrossed in his phone. It was an hour and a half until they closed, and he was pretty sure there was only one other customer in the store at most.

“Sure! Alright, so our first step should probably be to hit the deli, seeing as they have the longest wait times.” After walking the man through ordering Roast Beef, Prosciutto, Pastrami, Swiss, Havarti, Gouda, and Picante Provolone (what) they moved on to the canned goods. “We should probably grab a cart, I don’t think that basket’s going to be able to hold all of this.” Turning into the canned goods aisle, James sighed.

“Caution: Hazard Detected! Precaución, ¡Peligro Detectado!” The store’s resident useless robot assistant was stuck in place, screaming at a small bit of an onion peel that had fallen to the floor.

“Batsy, I swear to god.” James went over and kicked the peel under one of the shelves, pressing the button on the robot to reboot it.

“...Batsy?” The customer sounded somewhere between bemused and amused. Perhaps just ‘mused.

“Yeah, it’s our obtuse robot that only sees what’s right in front of it and makes a big fuss over literally nothing. It can’t even clean anything up, and the few moments there actually is a spill it just skids through it and makes it worse. Technically corporate calls it Patsy, short for Patrick, because we’re Patrick’s, you know? But since this is Gotham, we call it Batsy. Short for... Batrick. I’m not the one who came up with the name, that honor goes to my coworker Stephie. She’s, uh, not working tonight.” James internally began banging his head against the shelves. Why. Was. He. Like. This. “So, do you know what brand of chickpeas your... roommate wanted?”

/ / /

Finally, after another 45 minutes of shopping, they were ready to check out. James noticed the shift had changed while he was away. “Alright, so I can actually take you at this register over here, ‘cuz I’m still logged in and all.” He gulped as the customer began to load up onto the belt. This was... a lot of food. He’d scanned around a quarter when he officially ran out of room, turning to bagging instead. “Let’s get you another cart, actually, so we can load into that without squishing what you haven’t unpacked yet.” He moved to go grab one, but the customer was faster, jogging back with another cart before he could even finish bagging all the protein shakes. There were, admittedly, a lot of protein shakes.

Scanning the meat-substitutes, James scanned his own mind for an avenue of conversation. “So, you mentioned that it’s your son who’s the vegetarian. How old is he?”

“He’s 13. It’s not religious or health-wise or anything, he just really loves animals. Our house is practically a zoo on a good day, and that’s not even counting all his siblings.”

“Oh, how many kids do you have?” It had to be a fair amount for it to be ‘all’ his siblings. The customer opened his mouth as if to answer, then shut it again. He seemed to be thinking. Did he... not know how many kids he had??

“Legally I have... fffffour? Five? Yeah... that sounds right.” James tried to hide the bewildered expression in his own face, but he must not have been doing it well. “That makes me sound like such a bad father. No, I promise, I love them all, I just have quite a few of their friends living with us as well, and I’ve known those kids long enough to feel like they’re my kids too. Not to mention the whole difference between the ones I’ve adopted, the one who was my ward who I then retroactively adopted, the one I’m fostering, and the one who is legally an emancipated minor. And... the one who. Is no longer with us.” James blinked. That was indeed complicated.

“You must have a lot of love in your heart,” he settled on, finally.

“I just h— Oh, #%*$.” The blueberry container had burst open, all over the floor. James internally groaned.

“Oh no! Sorry about that, that’s the third one tonight. The packaging is just... not great. Do you want me to go get you another one?”

“No, I can get it. Thanks though.” The customer gingerly stepped through the minefield as James power walked to go get the clean up supplies. Six feet away, Batsy was screaming at a blueberry.

“Eat your heart out, Mister Miyagi,” he aimed a light roundhouse kick at the button to reboot the robot. Batsy got two feet before it encountered another world-ending-threat, danger level blueberry. James sighed and went to go clear that area first.

/ / /

Finally, almost everything was scanned. James was scanning the bread and rolls as the customer fit all the bags into the two carts, like an expert game of tetris. There were a few hiccups where James had had to explain that you probably shouldn’t bag Raid with milk, or that it was a good idea to double bag heavy items, or that you should wait until the end to put the eggs in (and there were a lot of eggs. Gaston-levels of eggs. Probably to be expected with that many kids in the house. Hah. eggs-pected.) But by the end they were working like a well-oiled machine. James bagged the last item, hit the button to total it, and watched as the customer realized he forgot his deli items.

“I’m just gonna— gonna run and go get those real quick. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Can you fill out the charity question real quick though? Th...thanks.” The customer was gone before James could question him on the fact that he’d used the custom amount option to apparently donate $1k to Gotham General’s children’s ward. It was... probably a mistake, but he’d wait around to check. He turned as he heard the beginnings of a commotion behind him, from the one other customer in the store. This guy’s whole aesthetic just screamed gross, from the white-boy dreads to the Blue Lives Matter gaiter mask. It looked as if he was having trouble at self-checkout. James was about to head over to help when his coworker passed him. He turned back to keep an eye on the clock. 10 minutes until closing. Please come back with the deli items soon. He heard an aggressive murmuring that sent chills up his spine, a distinct feeling of Not Right Bad. He turned back to where his coworker was engaged with helping the other customer. His coworker who was... very pale. Frightened. The customer whose hand glinted silver with... oh #%*$, that’s a knife. Not Good Very Bad... oh hell no, you are not hurting my coworker on my watch.

“HEY #%$&FACE, EAT BEANS!” As the aggressive customer turned to meet the container of garbanzo beans that was currently hurtling towards his face at the maximum speed a theatre-kid-who-never-did-sports could throw, the world seemed to throw down. Faintly, James could hear rational thoughts pounding at the door to his mind, begging to be let in. Thoughts like ‘They’re definitely going to fire you for attacking a customer’ and ‘They’re definitely going to fire you for cursing in front of a customer’ and ‘They’re definitely going to fire you for damaging the merchandise’ and ‘You can’t even throw a ball to save your life, there’s no way that��s going to hit him.’ Praying to Freddie Mercury, Elton John, and all other things holy, James watched as the beans sailed through the air and struck their target true— albeit a little lower than planned.”

Grossface automatically brought his hands down to protect his nethers, apparently forgetting that their was a knife in his hands. He let out a second agonized howl as he stabbed himself in the balls. Blindly, James groped around for more ammunition. Holding out a zucchini as threateningly as he could, he watched as the would-be aggressor ran out of the store as fast as he could with both hands clasping his junk. “Are you okay?” He asked his coworker, feeling his voice echo through the suddenly very-quiet-sounding store. She nodded mutely. He nodded back, then turned back to his register and oH shit there’s His Customer, holding the deli items.

“Nice shot.” Okay, this time he definitely sounded amused.

“I... am so sorry about the beans, I can get you a refund on those or I can go get you some more or—”

“No need, they definitely went to a good cause.” The customer grinned and held out the deli items. Faintly, James began to wrestle with the bag to get to the barcodes. Finally, everything was scanned, for good.

“Alright, will that be everything?” The clock read two minutes until closing.

“Yes, that should be everything. Again, thank you for all your help.” James watched as even with the membership points taken off, the total soared to over $750.

“Alright, your total is... $754.33, here’s some coupons and a survey slip. If you fill that out you get entered for a drawing to win a $500 gift card. Which... I don’t know that you’d need, but. Why not.” The customer reached into his wallet and counted out 5 $100 bills. Then he pulled out a black card. He paid off the total with the card, then handed the bills to James.

“Here you go, I wasn’t sure how much you tip cashiers.” James opened and closed his mouth a few times, like a fish.

“People don’t normally... tip cashiers...” and especially not HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS.

“Oh. Well, you were a good cashier. You deserve it. And here—” at this he pulled a crisp business card out of his wallet. “At Wayne Enterprises we could use quick-thinkers like you.” Pulling down his sunglasses, he gave a quick wink. James waved absentmindedly as BRUCE #%*$ING WAYNE walked out of the store. He looked down at the business card. Written upon it were the words: “Call here for an interview, mention Malone and they’ll know I sent you. Best of luck with the current job— BW”

James sat down. The clock was 10 minutes past closing before he remembered to look at it. There were a million thoughts running through his head. Oh my god I joked around to a billionaire. I cursed in front of a billionaire. I chucked a can of beans into a man’s nutsack in front of a billionaire.

But oddly enough, the only question that remained at the top of his mind was this:

This is because I have black hair and blue eyes, isn’t it.

#batfam #batman #bruce wayne #crack fic babey #my writing #written over the course of 2 hours following an 8 hour shift #shameless self-insert time

122 notes · View notes

catboygretzky · 3 years ago

Note

best stucky fic recs pwease

Okay, disclaimer, these are all like five+ years old (which is the best Stucky era, imo) and definitely not the only ones I enjoy; these are just a few in my bookmarks on ao3.

In no particular order besides the order I bookmarked them and under a read more because there's a shit ton of them (really, it's a lot):

- hold me until we crumble; Not Rated, 23k

“Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

- despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained); Explicit, 72k

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

- family means no one gets left behind or forgotten; Teen, 11k

“Why did you think I wouldn’t like you for being gay?” Steve asks gently.

“You’re Captain America.” Eli’s got his teeth clenched and is resolutely looking ahead. “You stand for truth and justice and the American way. You stand for American morals. You stand for…” he shrugs awkwardly. “Not people like me.”

Steve blows the air out of his cheeks slowly, trying to figure out how to keep the anger out of his voice so Eli doesn’t think it’s at him.

Or, Steve comes to terms with his new world, and gains some children in the process.

- Mistake on the Part of Nature; Teen, 1.3k

Steve takes in Bucky's betrayed look and Sam's confusion, follows Sam's gaze to the pile of mangled fruit in the trash can. Sudden comprehension fills his face.

"Oh," he says. "Bucky found out about bananas."

In which an American icon is mourned. But probably not the one you're thinking of.

- Swear Jar; Teen, 1.5k

Bucky isn't the only troll in the future.

Steve has a Swear Jar and he makes the Avengers pay up every time they cuss.

- Barnes & Rogers and the Goddamn Truth; Not Rated, 19k

There are three well-known facts at Shield High:

1. The history teacher Mr. Barnes is a stone-cold terror, and it’s not even because he only has one arm. 2. The other history teacher, Mr. Rogers, is a mysterious enigma, and it’s something to do with the body of a Greek God and contradicting stories of his past. (They’re all rumours, anyway.) 3. Mr Barnes and Mr Rogers hate each other.

Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

- perfectly right wrong number; Teen, 32k

It all starts because Steve is too dumb to handle his smartphone.

A wrong number AU in which Bucky Barnes doesn't enter Steve's life (meaning: Bucky wasn't born until the eighties, but Steve is still Captain America) until Steve accidentally dials the wrong number. Wherein there is a lot of texting, some advice via Natasha and Darcy, a bit of pining, and a first date in an amusement park. Oh, and on top of being a disabled veteran, Bucky is a professional catwalker. Literally.

- The power of the right shirt (a.k.a. God bless America); Teen, 1.2k

"He just…" Phil trails off, mouth gaping. He is staring at the field outside the house, eyes glazed.

Clint sighs. "Yeah, he just ripped a log in two with his bare hands."

- To fill it up with something; Teen, 21k

A fateful encounter with Dr. Strange leaves the Winter Soldier transformed, and Bucky Barnes reunites with Steve Rogers in a most unexpected way.

“Steve brings the puppy inside, into the apartment that doesn't quite feel like home no matter how much he's been trying. He isn't used to being alone. Before the war, he always had Bucky, and his mother until her death. During the war, Bucky was there, too—and the rest of the Howlers, of course—but Bucky always meant home. (And well, maybe Steve's already got a name for the puppy in mind)."

- build it bigger than the sun; Teen, 10k

“Yeah, because nothing says heteronormative like living in Dupont Circle for two years and wearing skin-tight shirts to hit on hot airmen when you go running in the morning.”

“Look, I know you’re being sarcastic but I really don’t get how no one picked up on that.”

Steve and Bucky try to work out their relationship. The Avengers keep getting in the way.

- Memories Circle (Like Birds of Prey), Teen, 32k

Everything seems to be going right, Steve's fighting with his Commandos, they've saving lives-- until Steve falls from a train, is taken prisoner, and turned into the Winter Soldier. Meanwhile, Bucky takes up Steve's mantle as Captain America, and thanks to Zola's experiments, he gets dropped into a whole new time, only to cross paths with a Steve who doesn't know who he is anymore.

Essentially, the events of CA:TFA, mild mentioning of Avengers, and CA:TWS but with Steve as the Winter Soldier and Bucky as Captain America

- The Gentleness That Comes; Mature, 9k

Steve Rogers never really views the things he had to do to get by before the War with any sort of shame or embarrassment. People ask him for his opinions on modern issues in interviews, but Steve has gotten good at talking around those types of questions. Fury insists that there's no way to answer them without casting a shadow of controversy across the reputation of the Avengers, and that's the last thing Steve wants.

But then a sex tape is released featuring Tony Stark in bed with another man, and Steve can't stay quiet any longer.

- salt for the sea; Mature, 7.5k

Natasha comes home with intel regarding the fate of the Winter Soldier; Steve leaves to go and avenge Bucky Barnes.

“It's a list of everyone who was involved in his death, and a rough timeline of everything that happened beforehand,” she tells him.

“And the notebook?”

“I explained what they did,” Natasha says, “The blank pages are for you to explain what you do to them.”

- Lone Cat and Samurai; Teen, 8.4k

"We lost Kitten America sir!" Junior Agent blurted out. Then turned an unlovely shade of purple. "I mean, Captain America. Who’s a kitten. Because magic. Sir."

- Waiting To Prove You're Not Alone; Explicit, 41k

Months after he woke up on the banks of the Potomac, when a reporter mistakenly assumes Steve would disapprove of homosexuality being as accepted as it is in the modern day, Steve accidentally snaps and unleashes his real opinion on the matter... and with that, a secret he's hidden for over eighty years.

When that secret comes looking for him in New York, Steve can only hope that he can get a second chance at saving his best friend, even if it means keeping his heart in check.

“Yeah, back in my day it wasn't tolerated, and because of that I knew from the minute I figured it out, that I’d never get to tell my best friend that I loved him, and sure enough, he died without knowing that I’d been in love with him for a decade."

- I'm Not Sick (But I'm Not Well); Mature, 30k

Steve Rogers doesn’t meet Bucky Barnes in the 1930’s. Instead, Steve meets him April 17th, 2012.

Well…sort of meets him.

In actuality, Bucky had almost hit him with his truck.

Or: The fic where millennial Bucky Barnes nearly runs over a freshly thawed national treasure, and what Steve Rogers did to adjust to modern NYC during those two weeks before the events of The Avengers.

- pure as the driven slush; Explicit, 11k

He should have worked it out sooner. But then, Steve always was a sneaky little bastard—had to have been, just to survive this long.

For the SteveBucky Fest prompt, "Steve is quite experienced while Bucky's never gone beyond second base with anyone".

- Let's Be Exposed and Unprotected, Explicit, 5k

Bucky’s pretty sure he should be into getting fucked through the floor while walls explode around him like in that Mr and Mrs Smith movie that Clint loves. But he likes it like this. He likes being on his back with Steve looming above him, big and naked, blocking out the rest of the world.

- Man of Steel; Explicit, 6.7k

It’s like Steve looked at his metal arm and thought ‘Challenge Accepted.’

- 5 Times Steve Got Arrested and 1 Time They All Did; Teen, 4.9k

What it says, 5 times Steve Rogers ended up in jail (with and without Bucky) + 1 time all of the Avengers got arrested with him.

- the best of you; Teen, 16k

Bucky is on a mission when he gets the call.

They tell him that Steve has been compromised.

[The story wherein Hydra captures Steve to create a new weapon. Bucky, alongside the rest of the Avengers, come together and work through the fallout.]

- pull apart the dark; Teen, 79k

Steve's unending faith in his best friend was beginning to look less like hope and more like fantasy. When they'd caught the Soldier – in a fire fight that still gave Sam nightmares – the only thing the man seemed to recall was how to hit exactly where it hurt.

Four months later, Barnes still refused to speak English. Refused to heed anything but Steve's voice.

So, all in all, it was not a great time for Hydra to attack New York. All in all, Sam really wished they'd just killed him, instead of turning Captain America into a baby.

- Not Another Supersoldier Fantasy; Explicit, 8.9k

Bucky finds a popular sex toy modeled on Captain America's own anatomy. Well, isn't this just perfect? Because even after all this time, he still hasn’t seen Steve’s supersoldier cock. But apparently in this day and age anyone with $29.95 can get a decent replica. The unfairness of this is of galactic proportions.

- the blood of the covenant; Teen, 7.5k

Steve has a "thing" for hot water.

Or, Sam Wilson adopts Steve Rogers.

- Mighty like Love, Mighty like Sorrow; Teen, 19k

After freeing himself from the Russians' mind control, Bucky is left at loose ends, drifting through the decades. Still, he's in no hurry to take up Nick Fury's offer to once again fight the good fight -- especially not when Fury has the nerve to put some imposter in his best friend's old suit and send him out to fight against Chitauri.

- Read Me Like a Book; Gen, 1.5k

In which Bucky accidentally becomes a book collector, because when the universe gives you a million biographies about your boyfriend, you go bookcase shopping. And then he finds out about The Grenade Incident, and the boys actually talk about it like actual adults. (Somewhere, Sam sheds a proud tear.)

- the broadest stroke of color; Gen, 16k

Sarah Rogers always loved Steve's hands.

"Your hands will do a lifetime's work," she'd say. "Remember to do the work you can for those you love."

Almost a century later, Steve does just that.

[The story wherein Steve draws comics for Bucky to help him recover his memory. Through a series of events, the issues are leaked, and Steve finds himself reviving the Captain America comics. He still isn't sure how that happened.]

- If You're Loved By Someone (You're Never Rejected); Teen, 9.4k

You’re fifteen when you realize why you stare at Bucky’s lips more than normal when he laughs and when he says your name. You lean into his shoulder when you walk next to him and when you’re sick you don’t fight off his soft hands. You tease him, he teases back and being around him is so easy you forget what it was like to live without him. You can’t remember life pre-Bucky and it scares you.

- Unusual Weather; Explicit, 8.7k

Bucky’s been at the Avengers Tower for three weeks before he finally gives in to Steve’s gentle coaxing and Stark’s cheerful waving of fistfuls of circuits, and lets them scan the arm.

It doesn’t go well.

- this city bleeds its aching heart; Explicit, 35k

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

- Good Boy; Explicit, 13k

Bucky is still adjusting to life with the Avengers, and Steve is willing to do whatever it takes to make him feel comfortable. Increasingly, though, what seems to make him comfortable is strangely intimate.

Surprise, Steve! You're a gentle dom and Bucky wants to be your pretty pet!

- Brooklyn; Teen, 8.8k

"Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?"

Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

#told you it was long as shit #fic rec #stucky #mcu #what do people have tagged #fsdjghk whatever

58 notes · View notes

anightflower · 4 years ago

Text

Queen of the Underworld; A Mandalorian Fanfic

PROLOGUE

Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: Violence, injury, mentions of rape

Your breath heaved through your chest as you forced your body to move faster. You gritted your teeth as you jumped over a log, biting back a pained animalistic sound. You should have been more careful, you shouldn’t have gone to the bar, you should’ve left as soon as the Mandalorian’s beskar caught your eye. Maybe, just maybe, then you wouldn’t be limping through the woods away from the man that was sent to hunt you down.

You had caused a good distraction as soon as his helmet landed on you. You knew there was a bounty on you, you had been in hiding for over a year now, believing that every second could be your last. Yet, recently you had gotten cocky, so you decided to grab a drink.

Turns out the Underworld is still looking for you. But now instead of the hookies who you knew how to avoid, he had sent a Mandalorian.

You quickly looked away and gestured to the bartender. “Martini, give it an extra kick.” The man gave you a quick nod as the Mandalorian sat next to you.

“You’re a hard woman to find.” His modulated voice hummed to you. You felt a shiver go down your spine. How many times had you heard that voice, once he used to follow your every command. Oh how the times had changed.

“There’s a reason for that Mandalorian, much like there’s a reason you don’t take your mask off.” You purred, trying to keep the fear out of your voice. “Tell me, how did you find me?” You eyes meeting his visor with an unwavering glance.

“There are some very powerful people that put a good price on your head, care to tell me why?” He asked and damn did that voice sound dangerous.

“Oh my dear Mandalorian, that is something you will have to learn.” You teased, as the bartender handed you your drink. “Lye, this man right here is paying for my drink.” You said with a smile, grabbing your martini glass and standing up.

The Mandalorian grabbed your other wrist as you got up, causing you to drop your drink and reach for the blaster you kept on your thigh. He was quick though, he grabbed his blaster as well and pointed it at you. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold. Your choice.”

“Such a sensual voice for such foul threats.” You tsked, leaning closer to his helmet, you smiled. “Send my regards to the Underworld.” You whispered sweetly and shot at your spilt drink, causing flames to burst, making the Mandalorian drop your wrist and jump back.

The other bar goers screamed as your fire set off the bar’s alarms and sprinklers. You sprinted out with the pushing patrons rushing towards the exit disappearing into the crowd to lose the Mandalorian. You pushed into one crowd to the next, joining a large band of tourists, hiding yourself amongst them as the Mandalorian raced out of the cantina, looking to and fro to try and spot your figure.

When you were sure you had lost sight of him, you slipped out of the group and headed towards the path that led you to your ship, it was a long walk away, but that was what you had to sacrifice to not be caught.

You picked up your pace wanting to get to your ship before the sun set. Why did you have to get a drink (Y/N)?” you chastised yourself. “You could have just gotten supplies, gotten to your ship, and gone into the wind, but no, you had to try and do a mundane thing to make you happy. You’re so naive.” You mumbled to yourself, pushing branches out of your way.

“I forgot you liked to talk to yourself,” a familiar voice mused. Your heart dropped at the sound of that voice, you turned around, hand on your blaster.

“Kargan, it's been a while, how have you been?” You said, forcing a false cheerfulness to your voice.

“Your husband misses you.” Kargan said, a sickening smile on his face. “He’s very hurt over your sudden disappearance. Many of us are.” His bright purple eyes were filled with unbridled rage as he took a step forward towards you.

“Tell me, are the burns still healing? I had hoped they had killed him, but alas, beggars can’t be choosers.” You shrugged.

“You’re going to pay for your insolence to the Underworld. Your husband has so many plans for you-” Kargan purred taking a step towards you. You took a step back as two twi’leks joined him, both of them looking ready to eat you alive.

“Aw Kargan, can’t we play with her before bringing her back? Sian did say as long as we brought her in one piece” One of the twi’leks cooed, his eyes filled with a lust that made your stomach roil.

You let out a fierce growl. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot.” You raised your blaster at them in promise.

“There’s three of us and one of you, looks like the odds aren’t in your favor, poppet.” The same Twi’lek laughed. His laughing was cut off by a blast to his face. The man fell to the ground motionless.

You looked at your blaster shocked, you hadn’t fired anything-

Silver caught the corner of your eye again as Kargan and his goon took cover. You immediately began to run towards the direction of your ship again while they were all distracted but only made it about 20 feet before a shot hit your leg. You let out a pained scream and collapsed, crawling behind a tree to take cover.

You held your blaster tightly to your chest as you listened to Kargan’s gang and the Mandalorian shoot back and forth at each other. You heard a cry, as one of them was hit. Knowing you had to get moving, you ripped a piece of your shirt off and tied it around your injured calf, biting your lip to keep a scream of pain in.

You didn’t realize how silent the woods had become until you were done wrapping your injury. You slowly leaned around the tree and looked for any of your attackers. Both of the Twi’leks were dead, Kargan was gone, and the Mandalorian-

Was looking right at you. You could feel his eyes burn into you through his visor, without a second thought you took off running.

“Dank ferrik!” You heard him cry out behind you before his footsteps picked up.

You had to get to your ship, this man wanted to bring you in- he was no better than Kargan.

“Please, just keep going, we’re almost there.” You muttered painfully to your injured leg. You could hear the Mandalorian catching up to you, his footsteps getting closer and closer.

You cried out as his whipcord wrapped around your good leg and brought you down, causing you to drop your blaster as you put your hands out to brace yourself.

You scurried to get up as the Mandalorian approached you. “Stop.” He ordered sternly.

You ignored him, reaching for your gun as he kicked it away from you. He grabbed your flailing arms and forced you to look at him. “Stop, you’re only going to make your injury worse.”

“Oh and I am supposed to suddenly listen to you when you had planned to kill me not even 20 minutes ago?” You snapped trying to rip your hand out of his steel grip.

“No, you’re supposed to listen to the man who wants to help you, who you once trusted.” He argued.

You scoffed. “How in the hell am I supposed to trust you? Do you really think I am that naive?”

You heard the Mandalorian sigh as he reached down to untangle his whipcord from your leg. “I swear on my creed that you are safe with me and I will not harm you.”

You paused at that, looking into the visor that was now at your level. You knew how much he valued his creed, but things had changed since those years, did he really still follow it with his life?

After a few moments of consideration you nodded. “Fine, just get me back to my ship and I will be fine from there.”

“Your ship is destroyed. Kargan and his men got to it before you did. He also posted more men around the area to track you down in case you got away.” The Mandalorian explained as he unwrapped and observed your injury. ““We need to get back to my ship before any of Kargan’s other men see you.” He explained. “Quickly.” He added, his visor still focused on your injury as he offered you a hand.

You took it without hesitation, your mind so focused on the loss of your ship, that you had barely comprehended his last couple of words to you. Your ship had been your home and refuge for the past year, the one place you felt safe and now everything, the few items you had, the life you had made on the run, was gone. In the blink of an eye.

You were brought back to the present as pain shot through your leg and you stumbled. The Mandalorian caught you, but you pushed away from him, forcing yourself to stand on your injured leg. “I’m sorry, your ship? How do I know you won’t just put me and carbonite and call it a day? Your creed be damned.”

“Listen, you can either come with me to my ship, where I promise I will help you, or you can stay out here and get an infection- and that’s if Kargan’s men don’t find you first.” The Mandalarian said, annoyance coating his voice.

You hated how he was right, but you took a step forward towards him. “Fine, but any sign of funny business and I am shooting you with my blaster.” You threatened, looking around for said blaster.

Mando cleared his throat and held it out to you, a peace offering. You took it and looked at him.

“You can’t run on that leg, we’re going to have to jet back to my ship.” He said.

“Absolutely not. I can run just fine, I even gave you a run for your money-” You argued turning away from him and nearly stumbling again.

He rushed to catch you and scooped you up. “Sure you can.” He said as he shot into the sky.

You suppressed a scream and closed your eyes. Mando remained silent, but you could have swore you felt him smirking underneath the helmet. Bastard.

You didn't open your eyes until you felt you had landed. Mando carried you up into the ship, his steps echoing off the small ramp. He placed you on a little pull out table and unwrapped your leg again.

“Stay here.” He said as he closed the ramp and got medical supplies. Your heart pounded as you realized you were closed in with him. Your heart pounding as watched him walk around.

“I swore on my creed that you are safe and I meant it, whether or not that means anything to you is not my problem, but I can hear your heartbeat over here.” His voice said, breaking your tense silence.

You remained silent, unsure of what to say.

“I never thought I would see you again.” He continued, his voice calm. “I should have recognized your face as soon as you, Queen of the Underworld.”

“Don’t call me that. I don’t run with them anymore.” You snapped.

“I’ve heard.” He said.

Tense silence fell one again, broken only by Mando shuffling through his supplies. He made his way back to you and gently unwrapped your wound. You resisted shivering as they ghosted over your skin.

“This is going to sting a bit.” He said gruffly, grabbing the bactaspray and applying it to your leg. You bit your lip to keep from whimpering and closed your eyes, forcing yourself to breathe through the pain.

Your eyes shot open when you heard a tiny coo.

Mando sighed. “Kid, I told you to stay inside your crib until I came and got you.”

You looked down at the tiny child at your feet and suppressed a small squeal. Its green ears were probably ⅓ the size of its body and eyes nearly ten times the size of its little nose. The creature cooed at you curiously, causing you, despite the horrific situation you were in, to smile at it gently.

“Hello little one.” You whispered. The kid gave you a toothy grin. “I didn’t realize you had a kid.”

“It’s a long story.” Mando said curtly, scooping up the child and making his way to the ladder that led to the cockpit. “You should get some rest, there’s a bed behind that panel, just press the button to the right of it.”

Before he could completely disappear up the ladder, you stopped him. “Why are you helping me?” You blurted out. “What is your price for this? Nothing is for free, I know that better than anyone.”

There was a long pause of silence between the two of you. “Because you’re not the first bounty I’ve been lied to about.” Mando said, his voice caring a lighter tone to it as he looked at the kid. Its big black eyes lit up and it let out a loving coo at him. He didn’t say what he really wanted to. And because I could never hand you back over to that bastard again.

A slow smile came across your face. “Looks like you and I are one in the same little one.” You said gently, the child smiled at you and you giggled before he and Mando disappeared into the cockpit.

___________________________________________________________

Message me to become part of the taglist :)

TAGLIST

@halerune @yoshiplush @pinkninja200 @emiijemii @liviiii98

#the mandalorian #baby yoda #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din dijarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the queen of the underworld #anightflowerwrites #anightflowers masterlist #anightflower writes #anightflowermasterlist

52 notes · View notes

ooops-i-arted · 3 years ago

Note

*crscks knuckles* hmmm. story idea: boga jr going to the vet for something other than Eating Things She Really Shouldn’t Eat™️

Hope you don't mind I took forever but I hadn't forgotten!! Have some misadventures of the clan's best girl.

Din waited, trying not to glance anxiously at the setting sun and the encroaching dusk. Kuiil ushered the last few children inside while IG-11 paused next to him. “We are still missing Y-0.”

“I know,” snapped Din, harsher than he meant. He evened out his voice before saying, “Boga Jr. should’ve brought him back by now.”

IG-11 whirred faintly, then said, “They are out of range of my scanners.”

“The hell are they doing that far away?” Din growled. He set his own HUD to tracking mode before marching off. “I’m going after them. Help Kuiil with the others.”

“Affirmative,” IG-11 said before Din was too far away to hear him and the other usual noises that came with putting a hundred small children to bed. They would be defiant without him there to smooth things along; they always wanted him present even if he had help. But first he had to locate his eldest son and his pet varactyl.

What on earth could be taking them so long? Yod’ika knew better than to wander so far and he usually didn’t; he used to be a terror at bedtime but now he always took pride in being well-behaved and a leader for his brothers. And he adored Boga Jr. and was usually willing to let her round him up and carry him back home. Boga Jr. herself was faster than any creature had any right to be, so the delay probably wasn’t her. Din picked up his pace, worry starting to prickle in the back of his throat.

His HUD highlighted tracks in the area - familiar varactyl tracks pacing and circling around from Boga Jr.’s earlier efforts to pick up the kids and probably her own wanderings, since she rarely went in a straight line unless it was for food. But as soon as he had the thought, a line of tracks broke away in a beeline into the forest, and his HUD informed him these were the most recent. Was she pursuing Yod’ika? Her pace looked fast; what had drawn her attention, and why had his son gone so far away from the usual area he played in anyway?

He barely had time to consider the questions before a shriek echoed through the forest and was answered by a familiar varactyl’s cry.

Din bolted through the forest after the sound, following Boga’s rapid tracks. His HUD highlighted broken branches both on the ground and above but he didn’t stop to study them, only following the path that had been cleared. The animal cries got louder and then he heard a sound that made his heart stop: Yod’ika crying in fear.

“Yod’ika!” he shouted, barreling on ahead, barely making a sudden turn in the trampled brush and skidding to a halt to see Boga Jr. crouched low, her side bleeding from vicious scratches, a massive avril bird shrieking and trying to swoop low to attack her.

Din didn’t hesitate; his blaster was out and unloaded into the damn bird before it could get Boga Jr. again. The creature gave a last shriek of rage before crumpling to the ground; Din barely paused to check his HUD to make sure it was dead before rushing over to Boga Jr., who whined piteously as she collapsed on the ground.

“Shh, girl, shh,” he soothed as she cried for attention, long slashes on her side weeping blood and he saw more on her face when she tried to jump up to him. “Shh, shh,” he said, petting her neck. “Good girl, shh. Where’s -”

Yod’ika popped out from under a fallen log, his face streaked with tears. “Dad!” he wailed, running right to Din.

“Yod’ika!” Din scooped him up, looking for any sign of injury. “Are you hurt?!”

“Boga Jr.’s hurt, Dad!” cried Yod’ika. “That big bird tried to get me and she grabbed me and ran and it - it -”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” said Din, rubbing his head. “The bird’s dead now.”

“She’s hurt, Dad,” sniffled Yod’ika. “She wouldn’t let it get me, and she hid me and it hurt her!”

Boga Jr. whined piteously, trying to get up again. Din shushed her, gently pressing her back down. He considered asking Yod’ika to help her, but the poor boy was already in tears and so upset he was shaking; he would have trouble using his powers, and only feel worse if he couldn’t heal her. “IG-11,” he said instead, activating a channel in his comm directly to the droid. At least Kuiil’s insistence that he install it was finally proving useful.

“Acknowledged,” said the droid’s tinny voice.

“I need the village wagon sent to our location. Boga Jr. is injured. And tell Kuiil I’m gonna need his help with her.”

“Affirmative,” said IG-11.

Boga Jr. squalled again, trying to get up. “No, girl, lay down,” said Din, but as she rolled over he saw another massive gash on her opposite shoulder, bleeding bad. He pulled his cloak off, pressing it to the wound and helping her settle more comfortably. She lay her head in his lap, her head feathers twitching and her tongue lolling.

“She’s gonna be okay, right, Dad?” asked Yod’ika in a small voice.

“I’m gonna take good care of her,” Din promised.

It was over a quarter-hour and it was dark in the woods before the dim light of the lantern finally showed through the trees. Yod’ika was still quivering in fear, jumping at every sound and asking again and again if Boga Jr. was gonna be okay. Din did his best to reassure him and ignore his own doubts, lest Yod’ika sense them with his magic and become more frightened. But it was hard to remain optimistic when his rambunctious, energetic varactyl was laying on his lap, trembling and bleeding and panting hard.

“We’re here,” Din called to make sure they would be found, and in moments the wagon arrived with Kuiil and Omera on it. Omera jumped down as soon as she saw them. “Oh, what happened?!”

“Avril bird tried to snatch Yod’ika. Boga Jr. protected him,” said Din. “She’s hurt bad.”

“Show me,” said Kuiil, kneeling down.

Din did, passing Yod’ika over to Omera; luckily the little one went without protest, clinging to Omera’s woven collar. Kuiil frowned deeply as he looked at the wounds. “These are deep. Are the bird’s claws poisonous?”

“I’m not sure,” said Omera. “They rarely come in this region; they’re usually further north. I’ll have to alert the surrounding settlements in case more migrate this way.”

“Yes,” Din agreed absently, trying not to picture more of those massive birds swooping down on his boys. He looked at Kuiil instead. “Can you help her?”

“Yes, but we need to take her back to my place,” said Kuiil. “Let’s get her on the wagon. Support her as much as you can.”

“Come on, girl. Here,” Din said, patting the wagon. Normally she would leap up and possibly bowl them all over in her eagerness to follow the command, but now she cried in pain as she tried to get up and collapsed back to the ground.

Din went over, crouching beside her. “Come on, good girl,” he said, putting a hand under her injured front leg. “Up. Up, girl.”

Boga Jr. whined but looked at him trustingly and managed to stand with his help, whimpering as she stepped forward. “Jate, good girl,” Din encouraged her, helping her limp over to the wagon. He and Kuiil lifted her enough to get her up, where she collapsed, breathing hard.

“Easy, easy,” said Kuiil, gently patting her head, while Din picked up her tail and laid it on the wagon. “Let’s go,” he said.

They all walked to allow the wagon to move as quickly as it could manage. Yod’ika was quiet, still clinging to Omera, and Kuiil was too, clearly already deep in thought as he studied Boga Jr.’s wounds. Din stroked her head and her uninjured back, all the spots she liked, trying to make her even a little bit comfortable. That bird had been huge and certainly the type to swoop down and snatch up prey; little Yod’ika would have looked like the perfect snack. Boga Jr. had certainly saved his life.

“Good girl, Boga Jr., good girl,” he said again, stroking her head feathers, and she chirped weakly at him, trying to lift her head.

“No, stay down.” Din gently kept her in place. “There’s a good girl. You’re going to be all right.”

It seemed like far too long before they made it back to the village. “I can help IG-11 look after the children,” offered Omera.

“Please,” said Din gratefully.

“But Dad, I want to stay with you,” whined Yod’ika, right on cue as Din had suspected.

He stepped away from Boga Jr. for just a moment to pat Yod’ika’s head. “You were very brave, but right now I need you to go back to the house. I have to take care of Boga Jr.; she needs me right now the most. You understand? You will be safe in the house. IG-11 and Omera won’t let anything get you.”

Yod’ika looked like he might argue, but a glimpse at Boga Jr. and he nodded.

“Jate,” said Din, patting his head, and he hurried to go with Kuiil to take Boga Jr. the short distance to his little farm.

The blurrgs were grouped in their pasture, rumbling in sleep, and Din walked with Kuiil to the barn the village had all helped him construct. Together they both got Boga Jr. off the wagon and onto the straw-strewn floor. Din could already tell she seemed weaker, and there were streaks of dark blood over the wagon. “Can you help her?” he asked Kuiil.

“I will do everything I can,” he said, already pulling out his animal medkit from a shelf to the side. “See if you can get her to lay so I can reach as much of her wounds as possible. We won’t want to make her move too much.”

It seemed like an impossible task; Boga Jr. was badly scratched on both sides. Din managed to get her to lay on her belly and stretch out, even though the poor varactyl whined and whimpered every time Din adjusted her. She clearly wanted to curl up and lick her wound, but Din wouldn’t let her and she obeyed, looking up at him with huge trusting eyes. “Good girl,” he told her over and over again, “there’s a good girl, Boga Jr.”

She tried to jump away when Kuiil started probing her shoulder wound, yelping in pain. Din got the air knocked out of him by her beak jabbing into his stomach but stayed still, readjusting her head in his lap. “Shh, it’s okay, he’s helping. Shh.”

“I would give her a sedative but I don’t know how it would affect her. It is for blurrgs,” said Kuiil. “Try and keep her still. I need to get any debris out, and medicate it. This one is too big to stitch but I may be able to do some of the others.”

Din tried. But Boga Jr. didn’t want to stay still. She was clearly in so much pain, and kept looking up at Din and opening her beak to make a strange high-pitched trill he hadn’t heard before. “What?” he asked, putting her head back in his lap for the dozenth time. “It’s okay, I know it hurts.”

“It sounds rather like the sound new-hatched blurrgs make,” Kuiil commented, not looking up from his work. “They call their mothers with it.”

Boga Jr. trilled again, looking up at Din pleadingly.

He stroked her head and red feathers, careful of her wounds. “It’s okay, I’m here, I won’t leave you.”

He talked to her the whole time, hand on her head or neck where he could reach to pet her, telling her she was a good girl and she’d done so good taking care of Yod’ika and he wasn’t leaving her. Kuiil kept working, and she still flinched and squirmed a bit, but every time she trilled Din patted her more and told her she was okay, and she settled enough for Kuiil to work.

“I have done what I can,” Kuiil said finally, checking her over one last time. “The bleeding has stopped and I could stitch most of the bad ones, but we will still have to watch all of them for infection. She needs rest now.”

Din nodded. Boga Jr. seemed half-asleep by now anyway. Carefully he wiggled out from under her head and lay it on the barn floor, sweeping straw under her for better padding. Boga Jr. chirred weakly but didn’t stir.

“It is warm enough, so I will leave the blurrgs outside so they don’t bother her,” said Kuiil. “I will check her in the night and first thing in the morning, and I will comm you if I need you. No doubt Yod’ika has told the tale and the little ones are all worried about her.”

“No doubt,” Din said, and was about to thank Kuiil when a high trilling wail sounded from the barn.

Kuiil was saying something but Din didn’t catch it as he rushed back inside. “Boga Jr.!” he shouted. “Boga Jr., what’s wrong?”

She was laying on the ground, still looking terrible and weak, but she’d lifted her head and was wailing as loud as she could. As soon as she saw him she tried to struggle to her feet and scoot over to him at the same time.

“No, girl, stay!” Din ordered as he dropped down beside her, trying to nudge her into laying back down. “Down, Boga Jr., down!”

She obeyed, but turned so she could drop her head back in his lap, trilling softly with her big eyes fixed on him.

Din sighed. He usually got that look from one of his 101 sons, but it shouldn’t surprise him that the varactyl that wasn’t supposed to be a pet but had been adopted anyway had picked up some habits from her clan mates. “Okay, okay,” Din said, stroking her ruby head feathers. “It’s all right, girl, I’ll stay.”

She wiggled closer, draping her large forearms over his legs too and settling in his lap more comfortably. Din sighed, but leaned back against a sack of feed and Boga Jr. curled up close, just like she liked to do in his bed at night, her eyes already drooping closed.

Kuiil was watching him with a determinedly unfathomable and not at all amused expression. “I will explain the situation to the others. Comm me if you need assistance or she seems to worsen.”

“Thank you,” Din said, making a mental note to do a full restock on blurrg and mechanical supplies next time he did a supply run. Kuiil nodded and left.

Din absently stroked Boga Jr.’s head, soothing her to sleep, as he also thought about where to get high quality varactyl treats. Or maybe this particular incident, just this once, deserved a little bit of people food.

“Good girl,” he said softly to the dozing varactyl in his lap. “You’re a very good girl, Boga Jr.”

#she's a good girl. the BEST girl.#boga jr #101 yoditos au #the mandalorian #fic #thehollyraven #asks

12 notes · View notes

shimmershae · 3 years ago

Text

My thoughts on Episode 6--On the Inside

Very appropriate title by the way. Works in a multitude of ways.

As always, my randomness is going beneath a cut again to spare the eyeballs of those of you that don’t want to see it at all and also? Help those of you that have somehow stayed spoiler-free in this brand-new age of early release episodes. It is still so wild to me that I’m a full episode ahead of half the fandom. I don’t know what I’m going to do when we get to the final episode and they decide to make us all suffer together--because somehow I do feel they will do exactly that after spoiling us for the first 23 episodes. It is going to be agonizing.

Anyway. Without further ado, Shae’s stream of consciousness review (of sorts).

Not fair, Angela. Opening the episode with that shot of that big ass spider. I hate those suckers. So naturally, they’re an easy sell for setting the horror scene to me, lol.

Okay. Who the hell’s chasing Virgil and Connie? Walker No-See-Ums?

Barely a minute in and the atmosphere for this episode is moody AF.

What is this? Tara Jr. The Walking Dead? LOL. Where’s the Scarlett for this mini plantation house? Anyway. First three minutes of this episode? Just as attention grabbing as the first five episode openings this season. I don’t think people out there are giving our writers enough love for that. Every episode so far has opened like a mini movie.

With the way the Walking Dead logo keeps crumbling away with each successive episode, somehow it wouldn’t surprise me at all if the Carol and Daryl spinoff was eventually titled The Living and had flowers growing out of each letter, lol. I mean, there would be a certain sort of life-affirming symmetry in a show that’s been promised to be much lighter in tone doing just that.

More Carol and Aaron? Yes, please. I don’t necessarily like Carol staying at home and sitting the sidelines like a figurative happy little homemaker in the B story while the rest of the mains are trying like hell to sell the A story, but if she’s going to be totally prohibited from the main storyline until it’s time to blow shit up? I’m going to continue enjoy getting to see her do what she should have been doing for seasons--interacting with others in the community, especially Aaron and the ladies.

Truly. I really am loving my girl getting some quality Aaron and Rosita time. It’s so long overdue.

Bless sweet Kelly. Riding off to her sister’s rescue.

Why isn’t Lydia shown as part of these plans? For someone that could barely read last season, I doubt that big ass map was a piece of cake for her and it’s all just guesswork anyway without her guidance. I mean, why does it feel like they are cutting some of this stuff that might not seem like much plot-wise but would go a long way toward establishing different character beats? Personally, I would have loved to see her involved in the search and sharing scenes again with Carol and bonding with Kelly.

Virgil be having that “I always feel like somebody’s watching me” feeling. Don’t you hate that, lol?

“You haven’t slept in days.” But how many days, Virgil? I’m going to need a number because I’m confused AF about this timeline at this point. What we’re seeing and what different pieces of dialogue is telling us is not exactly lining up. I’m going to find it awful hilarious if it hasn’t even been two weeks since the cave in. For reasons.

Connie’s spidey senses are clearly tingling.

Alrighty, then. She’s clearly got PTSD. Understandable. They’ve all had it. Some have been treated more sympathetically than others, though.

I mean, it never seems to cross anybody’s mind how Carol probably sees Henry’s head on that pike, Mika’s pale and bloody body, Lizzie crumpled face down in a bed of yellow flowers, Sophia with a smoking bullet hole through her undead head whenever she closes her eyes but whatever.

Okay though. But what if Connie had really shitty, impossible to read handwriting? AKA doctor’s handwriting. What then?

Leah’s face honestly twists my insides whenever I see it, lol. It’s quiet a visceral thing. No, that does not make me a horrible person. Not everybody wants or has to drink the awesome, great, redeemable villainess Kool-Aid. IMHO, she’s got a face meant for a Walker. Perfect makeover idea. Eh. Mostly it’s her expression and the deadness of her eyes.

Anyway. Why is it always the fingers? Eff that.

Listen. If ya’ll can’t tell Daryl’s conflicted AF with the situation he’s landed in, you don’t know how to read NR’s face and eyes. He’s not a masterclass like MMB but he’s pretty darn good when he wants to be.

I honestly feel sorry for Redshirt Frost.

“You do what you gotta do.” Frost knows what’s what and he’s willing to walk the walk for Maggie. Impressive loyalty. I’m left wondering how the current, colder incarnation of Maggie inspired it because I’m still struggling to see it. Anywho. My point is the dude knows the score and just gave Daryl the okay.

Daryl taking off his angel vest before stepping into the role of torturer/interrogator=him shedding the persona/the man Judith and RJ and Lydia and Carol know him to be. Pushing away his man of honor status so he can just survive somehow.

Pope never quits chewing whatever the hell he’s got in his mouth. It’s kind of distracting.

Ohhh. We’re back to the Haunted Mansion. I mean house. Where are the Hitchhiking Ghosts?

All the eyes scratched out of those creepy pictures=spooky.

The good old fogged up bathroom mirror shot. Somebody’s been watching and studying their horror movies, lol. Not gonna lie though. I’m legit bracing myself for the jump scares I know have to be coming.

I’m loving the music/score in these scenes.

Truthfully, I could care less about these Reapers. But they are hella attractive, lol. Listen. Angela knows what she’s doing.

Kelly’s horse is so pretty. Prayer chain for that baby.

More dead horses? Why?

Connie’s slingshot? Sorry. I maintain, no matter how much I like these two, that they have the lamest weapons ever. Endless supply of Virginia rocks or not.

So. Did Virgil and Connie enjoy a little equine for dinner? Did they kill it before the Walkers fed? What monsters! Yeah, no. Not if they were starving even if I personally could not have. The more probable story is they fled the camp in a panic and left the horse behind and then it went down. Sorry. I didn’t exactly study the wounds on the poor animal because it is so traumatizing to me to continue to see them meet such dastardly ends on this show. I don’t know who the hell has such a score to settle with horses but stop it.

Days. It’s only been days. Not weeks. So many times with all that Daryl and Company have had to contend with since the cave in? Those do not exist, lol. They’re just a convenient, appeasing piece of dialogue thrown at a fanbase primed and ready to read everything into not much of anything. There’s just not been enough time for it to happen unless Daryl has literally been up 24/7 for all of them. You know, strategizing how to attack the remainders of Alpha’s horde, figuring out how to defend Hilltop before it fell, healing from the wound he sustained at Alpha’s hand, sitting on that log all damn night with Negan waiting on Carol to come home, having a lover’s quarrel with his best damn everything, taking care of the Grimes babies and Lydia, being the reluctant leader. Kang, why you playing them like that? Daryl’s a super guy but he’s not a superhuman with clones. So many times my ass.

Seriously. Who been watching Connie and Virgil? The MIA Oceansiders? Beta’s Fee Fi Fo Fum Ghost?

Nice. A Michonne mention. Maybe the truth will start to trickle out.

LMAO at Connie’s “I’m not staying here.” Me neither, girl. I would be outta that house so fast.

They really “Quiet Placing” this episode. Honestly? I’m kinda loving it.

WTF was that? I know she can’t hear but you telling me all the little hairs on her arms, legs, and neck didn’t stand the fuck up and say fuck this shit, I’m gone? Pardon my language, lovelies, but that moment had my heart kicking up several beats.

Okay, okay. To be fair to Connie, every hair on her body been doing that since the front door closed. Maybe they’re desensitized.

Gollum’s chasing Connie!!! He/She wants their Precious!!!

The knee jerk reactions about this episode sight unseen are OTT, honestly. And I mean no disrespect by saying that. I can understand completely where they’re coming from because we’ve been burned so long in this fandom. But it’s obvious the spoiler source has their particular biases and reads into things in such a way that don’t line up with what’s actually being shown onscreen. Daryl’s loyalty in this episode and all along quite clearly lies with his family and his community. He’s been playing Leah since the start and is truly just trying to survive somehow.

Awful thought. The Reaper that’s so suspish of Daryl--haven’t quite caught his name or really cared to. I feel like he might try to get to Daryl somehow. When he realizes that Daryl cares no more for Leah than any human would care for somebody (they thought) they used to know? He’s going after Dog. Or Carol should she finally join this story.

I refuse to believe Carol isn’t going to be a part of this story. Because they messing with her mans, lol.

“You’re ever with us or you’re not.” Now where have I heard those words before? I wish I could find that Daryl gif because that had to be one of the funniest things ever, lol.

Unrealistic suggestion to Daryl, Leah? Breathing oxygen seems to piss off Carver. Oh look. He finally has a name for me, lol.

I love how all three of the ladies--Carol, Magna, and Rosita--look at Kelly with such indulgent, adoring “little sis, you alright?” eyes.

They are seriously the most beautiful quartet of characters. I mean all of them are lovely but Carol and Rosita this season? Ugh. The unfairness of the pretty.

Human bones. Terminus callback, lovelies. How it all would have eventually gone down if Gareth and Co. hadn’t met the business end of Rick’s red machete.

So many horror movie homages in this one.

Virgil’s like “let’s leave this Texas Chainsaw Massacre behind.”

Connie and Virgil have obviously bonded, ya’ll. I’m surprised by how much I’m enjoying their scenes together when the character mostly got on my nerves with Michonne. He’s a good actor and the core of his character is sympathetic, but I’m not going to lie. I wasn’t super enthused when he was the one that rescued Connie because I didn’t know how their scenes would play out. But there’s a nice synergy there.

Okay. Does Carver want Leah for himself? Because I’m sure Daryl at this point would love to scream “take her, I know where I fucking belong!”

Daryl’s digging in deep because Carver has shown him Leah’s potential weak spot. Nuance is truly lost on some people, LMAO. He cares about Leah as a human being probably. He’s Daryl, after all. The sweet one. But he sees her as his way outta this and he’s going to exploit it.

It’s nice to have a silent Negan for once, lol. I can pretend he didn’t take my baby Glenn away from me and enjoy JDM’s pretty.

So. These cannibal people were the watchers? Hmm.

I’m really digging Virgil 2.0. Yeah. Nobody’s surprised more than me.

Sweet, sweet scene between Virgil and Connie. His determination to reunite her with her family brings back the sympathy I felt for him when he told Michonne “I promised her flowers. Every day.”

Damn. How many of those creepy crawly cannibals are there?

How brave of Connie to confront her fears to save someone she’s obviously grown to care about.

The Kelly/Connie reunion gave me chills and made me cry. Thank fuck Angela didn’t cheapen that moment by having it focus on literally anybody else. Kelly is the most important person in the whole world to Connie and vice versa. Just like Carol is the most important person in the whole world to Daryl and vice versa. Angela fucking knows. Everybody does. Except the people busy building castles out of sand while the waves of Carol’s and Daryl’s converging stories keep crashing closer and closer to shore.

Such a beautiful moment given to us by Angel Theory and Lauren Ridloff. So authentic and sweet. Kelly and Connie are home to each other.

Poor Frost. That’s all I gotta say about that.

WTF, though. Was Mel just not available or what? I want to see more of the ASZ characters that I care about, not the Reapers. Like I’d be fine with the story if all the characters not named Maggie, Negan, or Daryl weren’t surviving on crumbs during it. Especially the 2nd billed actress on the entire show. Angela. Please. Fix this.

One last WTF. Seriously. WTF has Maggie done to inspire Pope’s obsession? It better be juicy after all this shit.

Overall impression of the episode--

One of my favorites of the season so far. The horror aspects were fantastic, IMHO. I truly didn’t expect to like Connie and Virgil’s scenes as much together so that was a nice surprise. She got the reunion that felt most true and earned for the character and her story and I thank Angela from the bottom of my heart for that.

I would have loved more Carol but I always want more Carol. I’m okay with her taking a backseat because ultimately? This was Kelly’s moment with her sister. Carol and Connie will eventually have their time to sit down and talk. And pick back up their blossoming friendship because I truly do not feel Connie blames Carol at all.

I do wish Lydia had been included with the girl group. Last episode felt like it was leading up to that.

The Reaper storyline continues to be the weakest link because every time we see them the dialogue and interactions feel totally recycled from the time previous. I feel like it would have totally been helped by a tighter focus and less stretching out because 8 episodes of this is really diluting what I feel like Angela and Co. are going for. I’m not here for Leah being redeemed or being a bigger focus in any of the episodes because she does nothing of interest for me. I’m just peeking in on that story for the Daryl of it all.

Speaking of the Daryl? You lovelies out there gotta stop taking that spoiler source’s recaps at face value because it’s obvious to me at least that there’ some bias at work. Every action and word coming from Daryl is coming from a place of loyalty to his family and wanting to protect them, no matter how he has to dirty his hands. Leah is just a means to his ultimate end. She’s not his future. She never was. His future’s already spoken for and 2023 can’t get here soon enough. But like Daryl, we have to just survive somehow.

Oh goodie. More Maggie and Negan next episode and looks like no real follow up on Connie and the ASZ reunions. Hopefully, this is yet another instance of the previews being deceiving but I’m not holding my breath.

Until later, lovelies.

Hope my word vomit didn’t bore you too much.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons #ignore all the typos #with something this longwinded?#LOL #there's bound to be plenty

14 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Attached - Bonus

Words Read After the Lights-Out

Type: (mini)-series, college AU, professor AU (technically)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 5500

Summary: Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Time apart is usually unpleasant and this time wasn’t as exception. With messed-up sleep schedule, Steve helps himself with one of your writing he knows you finished. Will it help him fall asleep?

Warnings: smut, 18+, nsfw, semi-public masturbation, oral (fem receiving), PIV, hints of dom/sub, and fluff… and language (always)

A/N: @donutloverxo is ‘bad’ influence on me. Hopefully it will make up for me still not participating in the wonderful weekly challenge.

So here. Have a tiny bit more of smut and then I’m done with it. I am not a smut writer, no, no, no, no… but yeah, I had plenty of fun with this. It’s smut in a fluffy wrapping, because of course it is. I’m me. So, enjoy?

(Also, I copied the start of reader’s fic from the epilogue, so just you’re not surprised)

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve knew he had permission – a half-heartedly mumbled one, somewhere between consciousness and drifting to sleep, but still a permission –, yet he felt a bit dirty.

He had printed the pages few days ago before he left, knowing you finished the story for now named ‘the second encounter with Professor R’, morbidly curious, but hesitant to dive in. These were still your writings, your imaginations and they might have concerned him, but they were still very intimate. And he wasn’t just thinking sexual intimacy – it was simply something coming from the very depth of your mind and Steve honest to god didn’t want to invade your privacy.

However, he had asked if you’d mind if he read what you had written, and you said no. He had asked if he could read it then – and you said yeah.

Here. Permission. Clear as day. And you had left your laptop open, still logged in, as if in invitation. So he had downloaded it and printed it out.

And now he was watching you lying on your stomach, hugging the pillow that was very much on his side of the bed as if you wished you were cuddling him instead and Steve didn’t crave anything but sliding beside you and pulling you to his side.

The problem was that he had been to a conference on the other side of the country and he nodded off on the plane and not even the long shower made him relax properly. And the last thing he wanted was to wake you up, because the last time you Facetimed, you looked like you could sleep for a year.

Steve knew that the fact he had left you alone for the first time since the rumours started that you two were together and it was no surprise that facing the vultures without the possibility to find solace in each other’s arms was taking its toll on you – he wouldn’t like it either. You wouldn’t admit it to him; you kept the distress about it to yourself, not wanting to burden him. The bed was lonely without him, you had said instead, a claim no doubt true as well – and boy, could Steve relate to that.

So now he fished out the few pages and settled at the desk, only the dim light revealing your words to him, as if they were something that indeed should remain a secret.

Steve spent one more glance at your sleeping form, serene, your lips parted as you softly breathed into the pillow, eyes closed, eyelashes casting weak shadows over your cheeks with the little lamp on and Steve couldn’t stop the corners of his lips rising. You were beautiful and his, lying in his bed, practically begging for him to come and take you to his arms.

Steve promised himself that once he would finish reading, hopefully tire his eyes for a bit, he would do exactly that – falling into a blissful sleep with you in his embrace.

He should have known better, really. He should have known that your story would do everything but lull him to sleep.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Your pen was half-heartedly scribbling on the paper, your brain not quite registering the words coming from his mouth.

You weren’t prepared for a damn history lecture; mostly because when you knocked on the door of the professor’s office, you did not expected to find him not alone; his colleague, the grumpy old idiot, was sitting at his desk, making nots from a book which you probably wouldn’t even be able to lift with how thick it was.

Speaking of thick things… one was meant to be between your legs now, but no, the other prof just had to sit there third-wheeling and cock-blocking—dammit.

Now here you were, sitting opposite to Professor Rogers at his desk, pretending to be taking notes while he kindly filled in your missing knowledge, talking about god knew what.

His voice was a balm to your ears, deep timbre echoing in your ribcage, stirring heat in your abdomen. His voice did things to you no matter what words he spoke and from what distance, but you much rather had him whispering filthy suggestions to your ear, teeth grazing your skin, praises for all the things you allowed him to do to you, with his fingers, with his tongue, with his-

“Miss Clark!” Professor Rogers snapped all of sudden, voice stern and minutely louder than before. Your head snapped to him at instant, meeting his intense glare and a raised eyebrow. “Do I need to remind you that you were the one who expressed a supposedly genuine endeavour to earn your credit? If you could take notes instead of…” he eyed your wannabe notes with the scepticism they deserved “-doodling, that would be splendid.”

The smirk on his lips gave him away as he met your gaze, rising from his seat pointedly.

“Yes, Professor Rogers,” you said meekly, speeding up the circles and other random motions with your hand. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered off, I got lost in your narrative. It won’t happen again.”

You were so full of shit, because the only thing you got lost in was your own imagination, unholy pictures filling your impatient brain. Professor Rogers certainly knew that too – but he kept the front up for his colleague who just couldn’t seem to leave the damn room if even for a minute.

“It better not,” Professor Roberts commented gruffly, circling the hardwood desk slowly, fingers tracing the top of what he was meant to be fucking you against shall your fantasy come true any time soon. You shifted in your seat, feeling slickness gathering between your lower lips in anticipation. “As I was saying, the battle of Stalingrad…”

A sudden thought struck you when he stood beside you; for the first time in the past hour, you actually wrote something down instead of drawing random patterns.

Professor Rogers looked over your shoulder, reading the line about Professor Banks being a pain in your ass and you going crazy with need for your tutor’s cock. Peripherally, you saw Professor Rogers’ hand curl up in a fist, one corner of your lips rising in a smirk.

If you were to suffer, then so could he. It was a bold move, bratty even, one he might punish you for, but you were willing to take the risk, even feeling a tingle in your abdomen at the premise. Would he punish you? How? Were you in for some impatient manhandling today?

Caught up in your musings, you nearly jumped when his hot breath caressed your ear, a whispered promise causing air to get stuck in your throat, your heart speeding up insanely in your chest.

“Patience. Once he’s gone I’m gonna bend you over this desk…”

Your eyes fluttered shut, your mind supplying you with a helpful visual. You could almost feel his hand stroking the back of your thighs, the curve of your ass over your skin-tight dress, your lower back, and roughly pushing between your shoulder blades to trap you against the desk.

“…the German offensive to capture Stalingrad began in August 1942, using the 6th Army and elements of the 4th Panzer Army. The attack was supported by intense Luftwaffe bombing that reduced much of the city to rubble,” he continued the lecture as he straightened again, as if he hadn’t just vowed to get freaky with you.

His hand grazed the back of your chair, painfully close and still so far, moving to your other side, the heat of his body once again teasing you, his mouth an inch from your skin.

“…and fuck you ‘till you can’t walk…”

Your breathing picked up, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, the urge to lick your lips stronger than you. You glanced in Professor Banks’ direction, but there was no way he could hear what his colleague was whispering to your ear, the filthy promises made in between lecturing you about one of the biggest and most important battles of WW II. How could Professor Rogers even focus-

“You certainly have to write this down, Miss Clark—November 19, the Red Army launched Operation Uranus, a two-pronged attack targeting the weaker Romanian and Hungarian armies protecting the 6th Army's flanks.”

“… and ‘till the only thing you remember from this session is my name...”

You couldn’t even make out the words he spoke on normal volume anymore. Your fingers gripped the pen, the echo of sensations from the last week that had haunted you for days ghosting over your skin, your lips, your-

“…and how good my cock feels in your cunt.”

As if on command, your core clenched around nothing, the desperate craving to relieve some of the gradually building desire causing your thighs to rub together on instinct, hoping to create some friction at least. You could imagine Professor Rogers’ pupils dilating at that, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as one simple sentence of yours backfired unexpectedly.

His lips actually brushed over the shell of your ear with his next words, making you suck in air in a sharp inhale.

“You better get yourself ready, ‘cause I won’t waste any time with that.”

You blinked furiously at the statement, your head once again snapping to the other man in the room, who could turn to you any moment, catching you red-handed if you actually went through with it.

No way, no fucking w-

“Did I stutter, Miss Clark?” Professor Rogers hissed irritably and you dared to look at him, shocked to see a wolfish smile, a hungry glint in his eye that filled your stomach with butterflies, causing you to practically drip into the fabric of your dress.

“No, Professor Rogers,” you whispered obediently, your mind racing as you couldn’t make yourself to slip your hand under and just… listen to the command. “I understood.”

He held your gaze as he stepped to your right to partly shield you from view.

Be a good girl, he mouthed, sending a pleasant shudder down your spine, your pussy weeping for him, something inside you begging for you to obey just so you could hear him say it out loud later.

“Then we shall continue. At the beginning of February 1943, the Axis forces in Stalingrad…”

You inhaled shakily, your hand trembling a little as you let it fall from the top of the table, landing on your leg instead, your thumb grazing the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

Professor Rogers’ eyebrows jumped a fraction, his chin motioning for you to go on, his eyes dark and lustful like a night.

Not daring to cast a single glance at the other man, because he would only make you lose your nerve, you moved your hand under the hem of your dress which was slightly below your mid-thigh, fingers trailing up until they reached the very high thigh-highs you were wearing.

“You seem to be forgetting to take notes, Miss Clark, my patience is truly wearing thin. Let’s move to another battle which was critical for the development of the war, the battle of Bulge…”

The words fell on deaf ears. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart as your fingers slid right into the slickness pooled at your core; just like he had asked a week ago, there was nothing in the way, no underwear. You nearly whimpered when the tips of your fingers touched your opening, the barely-there contact blissful and yet torturous as you craved so much more.

You could feel his gaze on you, studying every quickened rise and fall of your chest, every single motion of the tendons in your forearm and thighs, flexing when your thumb circled your aching swollen clit, your eyes sliding shut at the tingle that ran through your nerve endings, your forefinger dipping into your cunt. You bit on your lip to stop yourself from releasing the whimper threatening to spill from your lips.

His stupid talk, momentarily empty promises, his voice on your ear, his lips brushing your skin, the light pressure on your clit, the finger moving slowly inside you— it all felt amazing, way too good considering that you knew you weren’t alone, but by God, did it add a tiny bit of a thrill, causing your heart to flutter, your core to burn.

You could still hear Professor Rogers talking, not one of his words registering until his fingertip grazed your collarbone, a breath of ‘such a good girl’ caressing your ear. You gulped, feeling your pussy clench, a shudder running down your spine.

“Go on, make yourself feel good. Add another.”

You had no idea how he knew what you were doing under the fabric, but he retreated again, to talk armies and bloodshed and all you could think off was being the good girl he had proclaimed you, worrying your teeth over your lips strongly enough to draw blood almost, third finger slipping into your heat. Your eyes fluttered open at the sensation, gaze stubbornly fixing on Professor Rogers’ chair, your breathing shallow and quick as you felt the pressure building.

Your mind was turning hazy as you tried to comprehend whether you liked the presence of the unsuspecting professor or were ashamed doing this while he was right there. You massaged your inner walls slowly, carefully despite how much you needed the release at this point, barely moving in or out in the fright of making noise. Your head spun, your thighs trembling softly with your climax nearing, the pleasure on horizon setting your blood on fire.

And then there was a pinch to your shoulder, nearly making you yelp in surprise—but somehow, even in the fog your brain was in, you understood that it was an order to stop and your hand instantly disappeared, curling into a fist on your thigh.

You tried your best to stop the shaking, to ignore the slickness on your fingers, now hopefully hidden in your palm and not on display – and peripherally, you could see Professor Banks rise to his feet, picking up items from his desk.

Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, air caught in your lungs as you attempted to calm yourself just in case he would look at you. As if your sex wasn’t practically pulsing because of the abrupt neglect, so so close to the release you craved.

In a sudden clarity of mind, you swiftly took fresh paper and set in on top of your ‘notes’ and gripped the pen again, seemingly ready to continue writing down important dates and names. You heard Banks steps nearing and you instinctively looked up. You had no idea what face you made, because you had zero control over your mimic muscles, too busy trying not to spontaneously combust.

Whatever he read from your expression, it made him eye his colleague.

“Don’t keep her for much longer, Steven. I’m sure she deserves some fun today too,” the older professor remarked, shooting you an uncharacteristic smile and walked out of the office, his old-fashioned leather case swinging. Professor Rogers’ ‘Don’t worry, Bradley,’ followed him and finally, the door clicked shut behind him, allowing you to release an exhale.

“He has no fucking idea,” you muttered, tossing the damn pen aside, running a hand down your face, while your other one remained curled up in a tight fist.

“Shut you dirty mouth, babygirl,” Professor Rogers hissed, crossing the distance to the door in few long strides, glancing at Banks’ desk to make sure that the man hadn’t forgotten anything he could come back for, and only then locked.

The next thing you knew, you were on your feet, the edge of the hardwood desk digging into your ass, your wrists pinned by his hands.

Your breath was stolen by his mouth, lips taking yours, warm, sweet, soft and demanding, a hungry kiss that had no end, one of your wrists suddenly free as his fingers curled around your nape, tangling in your hair, pushing and pulling, just to get more of you. You submitted easily, gratefully even, blissed out at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth, taking everything he wanted.

You gasped for air when he withdrew, his forehead resting against yours for a split moment, his touch on you almost tender now, more so when he brought your wrist to his mouth and left a brief kiss on your knuckles, inhaling deeply, causing your face heat up.

“So obedient, such good girl,” he whispered in a husky voice, thick with arousal, and you could swear you were about to burst. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

You were caught between embarrassed and aroused when he pried your fingers open, his tongue tasting your drying juices. Your core clenched in need and as if he could feel it, his hips rutted into yours, his own excitement evident as his cock poked your lower stomach, his mouth once again on yours, your hand trapped between your bodies, his fingers gripping your sides tightly.

“I promised you something, didn’t I?” he mumbled to your mouth.

Recalling just what a vow he had made you with the other man still present, you gladly let him spin you around, manoeuvre you to press your front to his desk with no regard for the notes scattered over it. You instantly missed the warmth of his body, but his hands went to knead the flash of your ass, one sliding to your lower back, the other hiking up your dress.

A groan escaped him at the sight of you bared for him, his foot nudging yours apart, his grip on you tightening, fingers digging into your flesh enough to bruise before they slid lower, dipping into your slickness. His fingertips spread it, circling your clit, nearly causing your knees to buckle at the shot of bliss sent through your veins. A pathetic mewl fell from your lips and you could only imagine the indulgent smile on his face.

“God, look at you, so pretty, so ready for me,” he praised, fingers tracing the lace of your thigh-highs. “I really like these. Good choice…. Hold on tight, babygirl.”

You wasted no time and listened to him, grabbing the edge of the desk as his touch disappeared. You closed your eyes, anticipation building when you heard the tell-tale of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again and as wrong or right as it was, you couldn’t help yourself, missing him. You knew things weren’t as simple as they could be seen – you noticed the little things, unnecessary tenderness peeking through, showing you that you were more than just a mindless fuck.

His warm palms spread your cheeks almost lovingly, slightly guiding you up so you stood on your tiptoes, bracing on the hardwood desk, so close to beg for him to finally fill you up, so con-

“Oh my-“ you cried out, your thighs clenching when instead of his hard cock nudging your slit, a velvety-soft warmth licked at your opening, eager and hungry, wasting no time and opening you further, the tip of his tongue pushing in, his lips sucking every drop you offered. Blood rushed to your head and to your centre, fingertips tingling, your most sensitive parts feeling like on fire. His beard was a stark contrast to the softness of his tongue, rough sensation making you dizzy. “Prof-“

His fingers applied pressure on your clit again, the circling motions making your head spin, your thighs shake again with the intensity of the approaching orgasm as professor Rogers fucked you with his tongue relentlessly, reaching even deeper, flicking his tongue and driving you absolutely crazy with pleasure.

A cry ripped from your throat as your climax shook your whole world, knees giving out, your fingers weakly clutching at the edge of the desk, your body slack against the wood. And he didn’t stop. He helped you ride it out with vigour, humming against your cunt, sending aftershocks through your veins. Only when he stopped, you felt you could finally breathe— his mouth moved just a fraction, a sting on your inner thigh as he sucked a mark of possession, one he kissed afterwards; even in your haze, a soft warmth enveloped your heart. Not a mindless fuck.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t help myself…” he muttered to your skin, stroking, squeezing, kissing, moving up and whispering to your hair. Did he just apologize…? “You’re even sweeter than I hoped.”

Your heart fluttered, your hand blindly finding his as it still clutched on your waist. He didn’t retreat, gently squeezing back, knocking the breath out of you when he simultaneously entered you, his whole length in one swift motion, sinking so easily into your weeping cunt.

Professor Rogers moaned as you gasped, your core instinctively clenching around him.

“So tight… so good-“

His hands moved to your hips, his cock driving in and out, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch, his thick member stretching you pleasantly after such delicious preparation.

“Professor Rogers,” you gasped when he hit the right spot, his grip tightening.

“That it, babygirl?” he teased, purposely changing the angle, barely brushing your g-spot with his next thrust. You couldn’t help the mewl of frustration, attempting to shift and help yourself, only to meet with the steely hold he had on you. “Ah-ah, none of that, babygirl… you want more? Want me to make good on my promise?”

You really wanted to sneer at him, to snap, but—God, he moved so right the next moment, giving you another taste of the delicious sensation and you nodded fiercely, only for him to still in his movements, thumbs drawing a circle on your skin.

“Yes,” you voiced your request then, earning a satisfied hum and a tap of his fingers. Words are good, now do better, you almost heard him say and you clenched your jaw in frustration. For God’s sake- “Yes, please.”

“Please what?” he urged you as he rolled his hips lazily, dragging his cock alongside your walls so painfully slow.

You sighed, rocking yours hips just a bit – vainly, again.

“Please, fuck me against the desk… Professor Rogers.”

It worked like a charm, a kiss landing between your clothed shoulder blades.

“Good girl,” he hummed, the praise giving you as much joy as it did to him, apparently. “Brace yourself, sweetheart, I’m not holding back on you. I waited long enough…”

And that he did; the lecture had been a torture until it changed into a different kind of-

The half-unpleasant memory vanished from your mind, quickly replaced by the sensation of his length filling you up again, and again, again, speeding up, angling his hips so he finally hit the spot you craved to have stimulated, driving in and out with force that made you see stars, sharp gasps escaping your lips with each thrust.

You clutched at the table, unable to hold still, trying to meet him halfway, adding to the pleasure that had tears gathering behind your closed eyelids.

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ he groaned and freed one of his hands in favour to take you with him, playing with your clit and making you moan his name as the coil in your abdomen snapped again, causing you clench around him. It tipped him over the edge and you felt him spill into you, some of his seed tickling your opening as he rode his climax out.

You were both breathing heavily as his body laid over yours, the sweat gathering on your forehead and back be damned. You melted into the comfort his weight offered, pleasantly surprised when one of his hands found yours, still on the edge of the desk, fingers interlacing, a wet sloppy kiss landing on the side of your neck.

You could feel him soften inside you, a new sensation that felt strangely intimate, and yet he stayed a little longer.

“Stay right here, babygirl,” he rasped out, the warmth of him disappearing as he stood up fully and pulled out.

You obeyed despite not being sure what was about to happen… your first thought was a photo and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

However, your first thought was wrong.

You heard rustle as he pulled out a wet-wipe, a sharp exhale following �� warming it up, you realized later – and then he carefully cleaned you up, soft and wary of how sensitive you were, his mission ending with a brief kiss on the spot where the bitemark was probably already blooming.

“You can get up,” he encouraged you, standing by your side, hands hovering as if ready to catch you.

Now your head spun for a whole different reason. What the hell was happening? What was he doing? What did this mean? You weren’t about to complain in the slightest, but… what.

Professor Rogers was observing you wordlessly, intense gaze you couldn’t hope to understand and you couldn’t help the shame warming up your cheeks, knowing that even with waterproof mascara and quality lipstick, you were far from looking perfect – and still, he appeared to be feasting his eyes on you.

Before you could try and fix it, he caught your hand halfway to your face, planting a kiss on your wrist and reaching for another tissue, taking care of it himself.

You were rendered speechless, eyes wide, lips parted as his own spread in a gentle smile, gaze almost fond as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“Pretty girl,” was all he said, a kiss landing on your forehead, causing your breath to hitch, your eyelashes fluttering as you blinked several times, unable to comprehend.

You were too stunned to say a single word, frozen on spot and yet you could feel your bones melting under his gaze, still unwavering, focused, boring into yours.

Neither of you made an attempt to move – neither of your reached for your handbag so you could be on your way. You just stood there in silence, lost in how incredibly handsome, beautiful he was up-close, finally having time to fully appreciate it – and with the softness of his features, you felt yourself fall for him, caught in the safety net of his kind eyes.

Your mouth opened uselessly and the pad of thumb moved to run over your lips, ending up in the corner of your mouth, raising it in a lopsided smile.

“You called me my first name,” he whispered, effectively bursting your blissful bubble and invading it with horror.

Oh god, you had? When—oh. Oh. Now you recalled it, a tiny bit horrified that you actually called him ‘Steve’ when reaching your peak.

“I’m sor-“

He shook his head and before you could finish, he pulled you in for another kiss, slow, deep and meaningful, his arm curling around your waist as if he couldn’t get you close enough and once again, you weren’t about to complain, placing one palm on his shoulder, the other on the side of his neck instead.

“I liked it,” he breathed to your mouth, pecking your lips once more before releasing you. “I’ll see you next week, Miss Clark.”

You nodded automatically, still stunned by the whole turn of events and accepted the handbag he gently handed you.

“…thanks,” you muttered and let him lead you out of the office.

When he unlocked the door, you readjusted your dress, making sure that in any normal circumstances people could see the lack of your underwear; what a reminder of Professor Rogers – Steve – being no less kinky than the first time, no matter how his demeanour now. You glanced at his face again and lost all remnants of sanity.

You placed your hand on his broad impressive bicep and dropped a light kiss on his cheek, enjoying the tickle of his beard once more.

“I’ll see you,” you echoed his words, meeting his twinkling eyes before walking out of the door.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve had to blink several times as he finished reading, trying to get a grasp on reality again, the words and images still swimming in front of his eyes. He needed few moments to process what he just read for more than one reason; he certainly didn’t feel sleepy as he had naively hoped.

He found the story hot, yeah, he wasn’t kidding himself, he was rock hard and aching, but what took him aback greatly and rendered him speechless was the sentiment. The shift in the relationship, the parts of Steve you got to know that you had implemented into the story with ease, the story in which ‘Miss Clark’ was surprised by the professor’s affection.

Steve read in the words the same astonishment and tender awe he saw in your eyes when you first exchanged ‘I love you’, after he had read the very start of this story for the first time and told you that he loved your mind as well.

Even when he glanced at your form now, so tempting in his bed, practically begging for him to satiate the hunger that your words spurred, it was impossible to ignore the warmth in his chest, his heart suddenly feeling too big for his ribcage.

Delicately placing the pages down, he turned off the lamp and carefully made his way to you, the mattress dipping under his weight, the motion drawing an adorable but barely audible whimper from you. Steve smiled for himself and slid beside you, curling his arms around your form and pulling you to his chest as much as he could without poking you with his hard-on, having decided to ignore it until it went away. He just-- honestly, he wouldn’t say no, but just holding you would suffice tonight.

You melted into his body so trustingly and naturally it made his heart ache and sing at the same time—God, he loved you. Then, as your mind registered that he was technically not supposed to be there, your form stiffened before pressing into him further, curling in his embrace, allowing him to nuzzle his nose in your hair.

“Hi,” you greeted him sleepily, but no less sweetly.

Steve dropped a kiss to the back of your head, his smile widening. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m okay, I’m glad to be home and you can go back to sleep.”

“Mm-mm, thanks for the report.”

You turned your head to catch his lips in a welcome kiss, one Steve wouldn’t refuse in a million years; sleepy, a bit sloppy, but one that tasted like home. Yours. And with both of you smiling into it.

“Welcome back. I missed you.”

He brushed the strand of your hair from your face, kissing you once more at your admission.

“Missed you more.”

Your grin only widened when you rolled over to him fully, tangling your limbs with his and accidently – possibly on purpose – brushing his erection with your thigh. He hissed despite himself and he would swear he could see a glint of mischief in your eyes despite the lack of light in the room.

“Oh, I see how it is, you missed me,” you giggled adorably and Steve couldn’t bring himself to be exasperated at you breaking the magic of the moment. And he certainly didn’t feel like telling you what exactly got him into this state – at least not now.

“Not just like that,” he grumbled and you giggled once more, finding his lips with yours, your hand surprisingly moving to rest on his chest, right over his heart, rather than heading down his torso.

“I’m hopeful,” you whispered, looking up at him from under your eyelashes and even in the dark, Steve felt his heart stutter. God, you were beautiful. Breath-taking. His. “But we should take care of this.”

Your hand slid considerably lower, giving some attention to his aching hard-on, softly curling your fingers around it and stroking and his resolve was slowly – very quickly – turning non-existent.

“I didn’t want to wake you at all. You need to sleep-“ he tried out weakly and you eyed him again, kissing his sternum, still smiling.

“Don’t feel sleepy. And I missed you too. In all the ways possible. I want to feel you, Steve.”

And fuck, he was lost. To your hands, to your lips, to your voice – when did it grow so sultry? –, to the smell of your shampoo and bodywash and your skin and to your damn face he couldn’t even see properly.

“Hey,” he mumbled in a spur of the moment, catching your hand to still your delicate strokes before they clouded his mind completely.

You blinked in an understandable surprise; but he had an important thing to say, simultaneously making a mental note to emphasize it again when telling you he read the second story too.

“Wha-“

“I truly missed you, sweetheart. I love you.”

Your surprise melted into something much softer and Steve couldn’t but meet your lips again, catching a glimpse of that same awe he marvelled at when reading. Your fingers in his hair were an epitome of bliss as you kissed him back with care.

“I love you too, Steve. So much…” you vowed and then there were no more words needed.

Steve devoured your lips, your body, revelling in every soft sigh of his name. And soon worn out after you both tipped over the edge, you fell asleep, tucked under the covers in his arms, the pair of you finally sleeping soundly again after being apart.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

‘One-shot’ Hurtful Words part 1

S.R. masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading :-*

I felt like I owe it to you, to them and to myself after the story she was writing didn’t get to be read (Steve caught her writing it). I hope you enjoyed :)

I’m thinking one more one-shot, maybe, will see how it goes, I’ll be pretty busy from the next week, so...

301 notes · View notes

danineverwenttoazkaban · 4 years ago

Text

SE Appreciation Week - Fic 1 (Karol route)

@sweeteliteweek Very late but I just barely ended this not so short fic.

This is Karol’s route imagining some moments like the airport goodbye and days later while they’re at home so Papa Scholar is also featuring. I couldn’t help but add a bit of Tegan too and I tried to put several ideas I had together on the same story. Hopefully the back and forth between present and past is not too confusing. I didn’t know how to name it so I just took a song I was listening to by Wilco that is really sweet if anyone wants to listen to it.

Jesus, Etc.

The familiar vibrant and noisy city was something Scholar hadn’t think she would miss during those months at Arlington’s. Especially not the noises from the neighbor from the floor above as she rowed with her husband for the third time tonight, the people pacing up and down the stairs, the kids playing, the pizza delivery guys and Misses Jones with her 5 dogs. She smirked thinking what Karolina would say if she heard all this noise and reminisced to when they met, smiling at the thought. She would be rich by now if she was given a dollar for each time she thought of Karolina since she got on the plane home.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“That’s my plane, people! Enjoy the journey home!”, announced Tyler as he picked up his heavy luggage. He hadn’t explained what the heck he was carrying on his bags but Scholar assumed it was something artistic.

“Hey Tyler, don’t forget about tomorrow’s match! There will be a 30% buff bonus”, said Tegan.

“Oh man, I told you I have that thing with my parents. I’ll make it up to you later, promise”, replied Tyler.

“… ok”, said Tegan as he gave him a weak smile, clearly disappointed.

“Cheers!”, shouted Tyler as he ran towards gate A27.

Only Scholar, Tegan and Karolina remained in the departure lounge. Neither Tegan or Karolina seemed particularly happy of going home, in fact Tegan was staring at the floor as if he had just been told Christmas had been cancelled this year.

“Hey, maybe I could join? I am not very good at videogames to be honest but you can teach me”, said Scholar putting a hand on Tegan’s shoulder.

Tegan looked up and smiled blushing.

“S-sure, I think you’d make a great cleric”, Scholar had no idea what that meant but she hated the sad aspect Tegan had.

She noticed Karolina was staring at her direction, a curious look on her face. In that moment, she heard her flight being called.

“Well, I guess I have to go now”, she said to both of them.

Tegan nodded.

“I’ll call you tomorrow to set your PC ready for the match”.

“Sounds like a plan!”, she answered before giving him a quick hug.

As she let go of Tegan, she looked at Karolina, unsure on how to approach her. Scholar took a step in her direction, asking for permission, they had barely talked since the night of the basement

“… I-I… goodbye, Karolina. Enjoy the holidays”, she said with slight nervousness, waiting for an answer.

Karolina was biting her lip and seemed uneasy, as if she was making up her mind about something. She leaped forward and put her arms around Scholar. The girl let go of the breath she had unknowingly kept as she felt Karolina’s warm embrace.

“Let me know when you arrive home”, Scholar heard Karolina whisper close to her ear, her breath sending shivers down her spine. She then felt something touching her cheek, she froze when she realized it was Karolina’s lips. The touch was so soft, so slight that it could had just been Scholar’s imagination. They let go of the embrace and Scholar felt her heart sink at the idea of being apart from her so many days.

“I will, you too, please”, she answered. Both Karolina and Tegan nodded and Scholar took her luggage before parting…

The following day, Scholar had to excuse to her father early because Tegan had opened an account for her in the game they were supposed to play, in fact he had even customized her character based on a number of questions he had asked, many of which Scholar wasn’t sure how to answer. As she started her PC and positioned on her seat, she could not help but feel excited, seeing Tegan through the webcam meant also, perhaps, seeing her as well. Tegan’s face as he logged in had a mixture of sadness, exhaustion and defeat, he didn’t have Karolina’s ability of putting on a straight face, Scholar didn’t want to push an answer out so she didn’t ask. They spent a couple of hours playing, Scholar died way too many times in pure noob style but Tegan didn’t mind, in fact he laughed each time as she panicked when the other players surrounded her with attacks.

“Thank you, Scholar. You made my day”, Tegan told her after the match was over.

“I’m glad, I had a great time even though I clearly suck for this…”, she answered giggling. Tegan laughed as well, he covered his mouth whenever he laughed and Scholar thought it was cute but sad at the same time how insecure he could be at times, even among his friends.

“… She’s busy talking to mom and dad, by the way”, Tegan added after a while, “in case you were wondering.”

“Oh… it’s ok. Is everything alright?”, Scholar asked concerned, to be honest their parents didn’t exactly sound like the kind that understood and supported their children.

“They didn’t take well all that happened in FAXION, I almost didn’t login for the game but she wanted me to let her handle it on her own”, answered Tegan, “she didn’t want me blowing up and them… “, he paused, “… doesn’t matter, I will take care of her now.”

“She’s a tough girl, she worries about you too”, said Scholar, “let me know if you need anything”

“Of course, thanks again. I will tell her you say ‘hi’ ”, said Tegan before closing the session.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scholar sighed as she wondered how things had gone back at the twins’ house, hoping they were ok. The days that had followed to gaming night not much had happened. Tyler spammed them with funny selfies from the Red Carpet of God knows which movie his parents had taken him to, Tadashi and Alistair sent photos with the Drews, especially the dogs at Axel’s request, and Claire and Neha exchanged recipes for Christmas season. But barely anything from Karolina, still the fact Tegan kept sending memes mocking how bad she was at gaming was oddly comforting.

“Honey, I’m home, can you give me a hand with the bags?”, called Papa Scholar’s voice.

“Sure, dad, coming!”, answered Scholar and she walked towards the kitchen.

The bags were full of materials for her father’s famous pasta recipe but this time with a twist: he had agreed on incorporating one of Claire's many recipes. Both of them prepared everything for their movie night. Afterwards, they settled in the living room as they picked a title. They decided on one of the old movies that Scholar’s father loved “Pride and Prejudice”. Scholar had tried to get his father to watch the newer adaptation of the story but it had been pointless, the 1995 version was the one her mother loved and in a way for him watching the movie again meant reliving the joyful moments they passed together. Scholar had seen it too a handful of times yet this time it felt different, she felt connected not only because it had been her mom’s favorite movie but because the situation was now all too familiar. The pride and prejudice dance.

“You keep looking at your cell phone, expecting someone’s message?”, Papa Scholar asked as he arched an eyebrow.

“N-no, just checking the hour”, Scholar tried to reply, unconvincingly.

“Hmm, don’t forget I was your age once and fell in love at your age too”, the kind man answered giving her a warm smile.

But before Scholar could reply, they heard the alert of a new message coming in. Scholar jumped at the sound and widened her eyes at the name that appeared on the screen: “Karolina”. She quickly unlocked the cell phone, almost dropping it due to the urgency. Not paying attention to her father’s laugh at her clumsy movements, she opened the message:

Karolina: Are you awake?

Scholar: Yes, hi…

Karolina: Can I call you?

Scholar’s heart drop at her message. Almost three days without a message from her and now here she was asking for a call. She really did take that “best way to win someone is to surprise them” to the bone.

“Sorry, dad. Could we drop it here? A friend from Arlington wants to talk to me”

“Don’t worry, girl. Go call your friend”, she really did have the best dad.

Scholar practically ran towards her room and texted her back.

Scholar: Sure.

Immediately her phone was vibrating and ringing. She answered almost as a reflex.

“Karolina?”, started Scholar, trying not to sound too excited.

“… Did I interrupt you?”, asked Karolina. Her voice on the phone was something Scholar couldn’t had foreseen would make her feel weak on the knees.

“No, uhm, I was just finishing watching a movie with my dad”

“Was it one of those cheesy old movies your dad likes?”, Karolina asked on a mocking tone. Wow, she had really paid attention…

“Ha, yeah. Pride and Prejudice… because you know how much I’m into the hate to love trope”, she blurted out surprising herself. Was it too bold to hint at ‘them’ like that? What was it about Karolina that it made her go rogue often.

Silence.

“… yes, I know”, Karolina answered. Scholar wondered, hoped, if Karolina was blushing.

“And what are you doing?”

“Our parents threw a party”

“Wow, sounds like fun.”

“It’s just the usual winter party they throw every year ”

“I’ve never been into a party like that”

“Of course not”, Karolina blurted out, “… I didn’t mean it to sound like that, I-I don’t think you’re missing anything”

“Karolina, not that I mind but why are you talking to me instead of enjoying yourself out there?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Karolina was standing in front of the wall mirror of her bedroom. Her new pine green dress matched perfectly the emerald earrings her father had bought her last year as well as the red lipstick. Everything fit together

“Miss, they are waiting for you downstairs”, the maid called after softly knocking the door.

Karolina took her purse and proceeded towards the lobby, across the dining room and into the garden. The surrounding people dressed in etiquette, the tables and the exquisite centerpieces seemed all surreal. She felt disconnected to this usual display of frivolity and superfluous social interactions, greeting people with a fake smile and pretending to care about the chit-chat. These people who if given the chance would rather see them in ruins.

At dinner, she sat with a couple of acquaintances, girls she had known since her childhood, the type her parents considered ‘appropriate’ but could never truly be friends. Her mind drifted elsewhere, back to the chalet, the sensation of safety, of being seen for the first time through the façade of her strong petty attitude, the possibility of being just ‘Karol’. She excused herself as the girls looked at her questioningly, stood up and walked behind a couple of bushes seeking some privacy.

“I heard she is going down her mother’s route”, she heard a voice say from behind the bushes.

“Her scandal at FAXION was disastrous, everyone has been talking about it”, followed another voice.

“Honestly, does it surprise anyone? It was a wonder she got this far”, said a third voice.

Karolina felt the anger and hurt built inside her, she was about to turn around and face whoever felt they had the right to talk behind her back in her own house when her cellphone vibrated. She took out her cellphone and noticed Scholar had sent a message to the group thanking Claire for the last recipe attaching also a photo of Scholar and her father cooking. She smiled at how happy they seemed and got lost in the sparkle of her eyes. She bit her lip debating on whether or not to message her… Screw it.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“… Hmm, Karolina, is everything ok? Can you still hear me”, Scholar asked.

“Yes, I-I just … “, Karolina answered.

“You know you can tell me anything”, Scholar said, “how is everything with your parents?”

She heard Karolina sighed.

“Not good but I’d rather not talk about it”

“I’m sorry about that but it’s fine, what do you want to talk about then?”

“Nothing really, I was just bored, this party is obnoxious”, Scholar’s heart skipped a beat at her words, does she just miss me?

“I see…”, Scholar said. With her heart palpitating like crazy and the excitement of talking to Karolina she couldn’t hold back her emotions and she added, “… I miss you too.”

“I never said… you’re right, I do”, Scholar smirked. Karolina admitting her feelings was so refreshing; Scholar would need one of Neha’s teas to calm down the butterflies in her stomach.

“So dull party, huh? Should I be thankful I didn’t get invited?”, followed Scholar.

“I don’t find this type of parties endearing anymore”

“What? Hanging out with me is harming your social standards”

“Haha, you wished. I’ve never liked these parties but it was a good opportunity to meet important people”

“Oh, did you meet anyone interesting this time?”

“No, I found out that people are still talking about my FAXION fiasco”, Scholar felt her blood boil at that.

“They did? I wished I could beat some sense into that people”,

Karolina chuckled.

“Hey, I don’t mind. It’s better if they talk about me, free publicity. Besides we technically won.”

“That you did, you two were amazing, seriously no one could rival Neha’s designs. Also, you looked so beautiful and classy… even though you weren’t feeling well, you pulled that off despite everything. I can only imagine the big things you’ll do in the near future”

“You’re sweet. But remember I could steal your third place in the Gold Tier if you’re not careful”

“Oh Miss Novakova, we’ll see about that, we could bet to me beating you up in the finals”, were they flirting for real this time?, Scholar thought.

“You’re not taking me to the cafeteria again, are you?”, oh they definitely were.

“Hmm how about taking you to the gardens? Like a picnic?”, oh god, was she asking her on a date?!

“Hmmm… ok, deal”, Scholar heard Karolina answer. She did just ask Karolina on a date and she said yes!

“Deal”, wow. But this time she wouldn’t let Karolina say it wasn’t a date.

She heard Karolina laugh on the other end and it made her grin like an idiot, she wondered if Karolina was blushing furiously like she was.

“Thank you, by the way”, Karolina said after a brief silence.

“For what?”

“Helping my brother stay calm. You didn’t have to do that”

“I’m glad to help, he’s a dear friend and it killed me to see him so sad”

“He has been happier considering…”, Scholar assumed she meant with whatever was going on in their house. She wished she could do more.

“And you? Feeling better?”, Scholar asked.

“Much better”,

“I’m glad. I’m here for you, always”

“I know, I’m here for you too”, her voice sounded soft, to think about how much had happened for them to get to this point.

“I have to hang up now, we’ll talk soon”, Karolina added.

“Oh ok, of course, go back to the party”, she didn’t know what to say, she could had kept talking to her all holidays if she could.

“Good night… Oh, and watch out your door tomorrow”, Karolina said with a curious tone in her voice, almost nervous.

“Tomorrow? What happens tomorrow?”, Scholar asked confused.

“J-just pay attention, ugh. I have to go now.”

“Ok, ok, I will do. Good night, Karolina”, and with that she was left with the usual cellphone tone.

The following day was Christmas’ Eve. To say she had spent the morning ecstatic was an understatement. She kept circling around the call she had with Karolina, the fact she had asked her out on a date and whatever she meant by watching out for her door. Her dad was surprised that out of all the friends she had made at Arlington it was actually Karolina whom she had a crush on (she had to tell him since she couldn’t hide her joy).

“My first guess was that girl Claire who kindly gave us the recipes for Christmas dinner”, Papa Scholar said as he found out about the source of her daughter’s disturbance.

“Funny you guessed Claire, dad”, sighed Scholar remembering the fatal mistletoe incident.

“Why funny?”

“Oh dad, it’s just… a long story”, Scholar said.

“Well, I have to say that Karolina girl is drop dead gorgeous and if you say she is nicer to you, I believe you. When can you invite her here?”

“Dad! We’re not even… I mean, we almost … kissed b-but …”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it”, said Papa Scholar.

“Actually dad, can you let me check who it is?”, jumped Scholar as she headed to the door.

She peaked from the door peephole. On the other side there was a guy looking like a delivery man.

“H-hello? Who is it?”, Scholar asked.

“Good afternoon, I have a delivery for a person named Scholar”, the guy answered from the other side.

Scholar opened the door, the man was carrying a golden plastic bag with a red bow on the outside.

“Hi, I’m Scholar”

“Oh great, I’m supposed to deliver this”, he handed her the bag, “please sign here… and here”

Scholar did as he requested and looked at the bag, it looked very elegant for a plastic bag.

“Thank you, merry Christmas, ma’am”

“Thank you too, merry Christmas!”

Scholar walked towards the living room holding the odd bag on her right hand. She took a seat on the couch and placed the bag on top of the table, slowly opening it. There was a card and a small black box on the inside. She took out the small box and opened it being startled by its content. It was an astonishing silver necklace with a sapphire pendant on the center, tiny diamonds seemed to surround the almost heart-shaped figure of the pendant. Papa Scholar couldn’t believe his eyes either, he got the card out and gasped.

“Honey, you need to read the card, look”, Papa Scholar said as he handed it out for her.

Scholar took the card in her shaky hands and opened it carefully:

“Hopefully this starts your way into the better fashion sense you desperately need… Merry Christmas, Karolina”

Scholar lost no time and rushed to get her cellphone. Please answer, please answer, she thought as she heard the dialing tone.

“Hi”, she heard Karolina’s voice answer.

“I-I-… Oh god, I-I can’t even… It’s so beautiful!”, Scholar tried to say forgetting how to speak.

“I am glad you like it.”

“I just… wow… thank you! How did you know where I live?”

“Uh-oh, guess who, Scholar”, she heard Tegan’s voice say.

“Y-you! From the time we played together… should had figured. “, Scholar said laughing.

“You got me, hehe. I’ll give Karol back her cell phone. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Tegan!”

“I am sorry I had to ask him”

“Don’t be sorry, I love it”, Scholar said, almost as much as I love you, she thought, “I didn’t get you anything for Christmas, I feel awful, you went through all this and I-“

“I don’t need you to get me anything, just everything you’ve done for me and … how much I … I can’t tell you on the phone, ok?”, Karolina said.

“… s-sure. Thank you so much, Karol”, was it the first time she called her Karol out loud?

“Besides I already feel like I have my Christmas gift… Anyway, our father is calling us. Merry Christmas, Scholar”

“Merry Christmas, Karol”, Scholar replied and added, “I… you know I do too, for a while now if I’m honest.”

“I kind of knew but didn’t want to see it… Enjoy your night”

“Y-you too. Bye”.

This was definitely the best Christmas she could had ever imagined, she only wished she could had thanked her in person but soon, very soon they will be able to figure it out.

END

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you guys like it! The ending was rushed because it’s super late here so sorry for that.

#sweet elite #karolina novakova #sweet elite week 2021 #tegan novak #scholar #sweet elite fanfiction #karolina x scholar

20 notes · View notes

spoiler1001 · 4 years ago

Text

Percy wanted children once he settled down. Vex seemed to want them too. After Vax died, Vex wanted them more, Vesper was a surprise. Vax’ildan was planned, to the extent that they wanted children, but the exact date was a surprise. Vesper was 2 years old at the time. Sophia was planned. Timed and everything. When she was born with her tail wrapped around herself and two bumps where the horns would grow, he was surprised.

The chirping was a surprise. Percival had known about Tieflings’ purring. He was a bit thrown when his child chirped before she cried.

Most of Vox Machina had thrown names at Percival for this kid and he liked them all. Vex arranged the name order.

He almost felt bad for laughing when he noticed.

There was a long time between Sophia and the Twins. They wanted to take a break after Sophia to get used to raising children with magic. Ten years passed between Sophia and the twins. They were not expecting twins. They didn’t expect a lot of things.

Like the invasion onto their property when the twins were just born.

Percical was reading a book on the porch, not quite seeing the words and mostly listening to the area around him. His time as an adventurer gave him the skill of listening for all potential dangers and logging them in his mind. He knew what sounds were from his children.

He knew what sounds weren’t.

He was forced to his feet before he realised something was wrong. His son was running out of the woods, scared out of his mind. He was scrapped up and bloodied but otherwise fine.

“Go to your mother.” Percival commanded, his heart sinking. The sound of crunching leaves was absent, but there was a loud bang and a pained screech. The screech was echoing. Percival felt it in his chest more than he heard it. Trees shook from the...sound? No this was some kind of spell. Snow and leaves fell off the trees and wood creaked. Percival ran towards the sound, his footsteps were muffled by the recently fallen snow.

The trees were bent towards the perimeter of the makeshift forest that Keyleth had planted to help rejuvenate the land. The younger trees had broken completely at a 90 degree angle and the older trees were cracked.

Sophia was on the ground, half on her side, her hand clutching her face. Blood dripped from between her index and middle finger. She seemed to be looking blankly ahead of herself, not quite looking at anything. Small little sounds left Sophia as she was frozen against a dead stump.

Three men stood in the wooded area. They had cheap mockeries of the weapon that he had created. The weapons did not look like they were strong enough to fire the calibre that Percival used to fire, but they could still do damage. Percival was pissed.

Black smoke built around Percy. His anger seemed all consuming. All of his grief from losing his family seemed to be resurfacing.

Percival knew what he did on a basic level. He just couldn't remember it. His memory went from seeing his daughter injured to black smoke to holding his daughter and stumbling out of the area. Percy knew that he had broken those men when they were blinded by the smoke.

He knew that those men were still alive when he left them there. He just knew that they won’t be getting up again. Too many crushed bones and bloodied wounds.

Sophia clung to Percival’s coat, the cold seeming to be getting to her. Her tail hung limply and she just seemed to shiver.

“It’s ok, Sweetheart. It’s all ok.” Percival whispered. Sophia just hummed. The blood seemed to soak through the coat. It was near boiling against the cold. The steps seemed to get heavier and heavier for Percival.

Vex seemed to be waiting for them outside for them to return. A snowstorm was building on the horizon. The air crystallized around them. Precipitation fell from the sky. It stung against them. Vex placed her hand on Sophia’s back. Sophia turned to face her mother, blood still dripping down her face. Percival put her down, both of them now soaking wet and shivering.

“Sophia, look at me, darling.” Vex kelt down to look at her daughter, the child still clutching at her eye. The self-comforting sounds she made as an infant were audible. Vex grabbed her wrist and gently pulled the hand away.

The eye was gone. It was a gory mess and even with the best magic, there was no saving it.

“Get the doctor.” Vex looked up at Percy. “It’s going to be a long night.”

The operation was long and despite the fires, the wait seemed to make the room colder. Hours seemed to fly by and seemed to take lifetimes to pass. Night seemed to arrive with Keyleth and Pike traveling to show their support. Percival numbly relayed what had happened, at least what he remembered. Shame made itself known on his face.

“What did she see, Darling?” Vex asked. She knew what exactly Percy was scared of. He was letting his fears eat at him. Keyleth picked it up too.

Finally the surgeon went to them.

"She'll live. The bullet didn't go far. She'll wear a patch for the foreseeable future, but she'll be fine." The doctor promised. Vex made it to Sophia's bedside first.

"Oh, darling." Sophia was deep asleep. She had a cloth covering over her eye. The whole room smelled of sanitary cleaners, and she seemed so still.

Logic told Vex that Sophia was alive. Vex's emotions told her that Sophia was too still. There should be a chest rise. Vex had to get close to hear Sophia breathing. Percival sat by the other side of the bed. Her skin was burning against their hands.

“This cannot be allowed to happen again.” Percival frowned. “I will look to see where they got in.”

“I will go with, Help build something to fortify the wooded area.” Keyleth spoke up.

“I’ll have Trinket keep watch. I want to see where this happened.”

Keyleth and Vex were surprised that the trees had been knocked over. The snow had stopped falling and the sky was painted orange as the sun was setting. It reminded Percy of the fires of his forge.

“This is very powerful magic.” Keyleth noted, looking at the downed trees, the stumps stained black from the smoke of Percy’s fury.

“This was panic and a call for help.” Percy stopped right at the clearing. Snow covered the bodies, but it was obvious what they were.

Ketheth looked for a moment and took a deep breath summoning vines to cover the bodies and pull them into the earth, tiny tree saplings covering the whole area.

“How badly beaten are your knuckles, Percy?” Vex asked, grabbing his hands. Even through his gloves, she could feel the swelling around his joints and he made a small pained grunt. Keyleth sent a healing spell his way. The gloves were no longer clinging to his hand.

“It’s nothing. I just-” Percy shook his head. “I made an effort to try to keep my cool around my children and now-”

“Percy are you scared of our children being frightened of you?” Vex turned to face him in the eyes.

“I want them to not be afraid of me.” Percy admitted.

Keyleth looked around asking various critters that were brave enough to return to the flattened area. They led her to a heavily damaged wall, probably from the revolution more than fifteen years ago. Age had made the structure weaker, more climbable.

Keyleth easily fixed it with a tone shape spell, turning dirt around her into stone for more material to work with. As she was working, three small pieces of parchment fell out of the wall. They were notes for loved ones explaining why this happened. She frowned at the thought of this. This was premeditated. These men planned on dying over this. Keyleth brought the letter to Vex and Percy. Percy crumbled them for a moment.

“Let’s leave them where we found it, hide some guards to keep watch. Let’s see who picks that up.” Percy walked away to talk to Casaundra.

The younger De Rolo sibling made her way to the door.

“Was this Briarwood?” Cassandra asked.

“Nothing so composed. Some of the people in our city seem to group my daughter with the Briarwoods and don’t want another ‘monster’ as they put it ruling them.” Percival spat. “Forget the fact that I-”

“You are not a Briarwood. You Are a De Rolo and so is Sophia.” Cassandra countered. “If they want to attack our family, we will deal with it. Should we send-”

“I don’t want to send my daughter away, what if they go after her.” Percy ran his fingers through his hair.

“Then what?” Cassandra asked. “We have to be careful. Where are the people who attacked her?”

“Dead.”

“What?”

“I beat them to death.”

“Oh. did she-” Cassandra gasped.

“See? I don’t know. Frankly I’m scared to ask.” Percy sighed, his voice cracked.

“Do you want me to talk to her? Acknowledge and make an official statement?” Cassandra hugged herself.

“We’re waiting for some conspirators to come around, let's put them on trial.” Percy’s mind was moving many miles an hour.

“Percival. Talk to your child.” Cassandra grabbed his arm, which was shaking.

“What if she sees me as a monster?” Percival whispered.

“She won’t.” Cassandra promised. “You see yourself as the monster. She’ll see her father.” Percival followed her advice.

He went to the room where Sophia was resting. The bed was empty. Percival’s stomach dropped. He looked around to see her bent over a small pot, her tail squeezing around herself and her whole form shivering. Retching sounds came from her small form. She seemed to be gasping and damn near hyperventilation. She wasn't aware of his presence, and her back was to the door. Angry hissing noises came from her.

“Sophia?” Percy asked, his voice soft, the sound a mere ghost of his usually quiet voice.

She turned towards him, not quite facing him. The spade of her tail twitched and the tail loosened its grip around herself. He had her attention. He couldn’t see her face, but he could see that she was tense. “About what happened…”

“You melted.” Her voice was strained. “And there was yelling.”

“Is that what you saw?”

Sophia nodded.

“Why did you vanish?” Sophia looked at him head on, a bit of bile still on the corner of her mouth. Her eye was wide and wet. The other was covered in cloth.

“It’s just something that I can do. You know that black smoke that was there?”

Sophia just nodded.

“That was me. Magic. Like your Aunt Keyleth.” Percy knelt down and looked at her. Sophia stood up shakily. She used a sleeve of her nightgown to wipe at her mouth.

“You didn’t leave?” Sophia asked.

“No. I was there. I got you out.” Percy sighed.

He felt the full force of Sophia as she made her way as fast as she could and hugged him. He hugged her close.

“Don’t just disappear again.” Sophia demanded.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Percy promised. “Now let's get you to bed.”

Percival picked her up and placed her in the bed, placing blankets on top of her. The high temperature had gone down, but rest definitely helped. Percy pulled up a chair and sat next to her.

Soft childish snores filled the room. She was back to sleep, but with heavy chest movements this time. She was doing better.

“How did it go.” Cassandra asked, sticking her head through the door.

“She thought I had vanished on her.” Percy’s jaw clenched.

“Oh. poor thing. She probably needs more rest.” Cassandra smiled sadly.

“She’s stronger than me.” Percival sighed.

“She’s stronger than a lot of us. We found someone picking up the notes. Two women.”

“Sisters or…”

“Wives”

“Put them on trial.” Percival declared.

“And their children?”

“Put them through school. Don’t let their parents’ mistakes be their own.” Percival nodded.

The next days were tough. The fever came and went. Sophia was tired and could barely keep broth down. The trial was had and went. There were veers at the women and some tomatoes were thrown at Sophia. Percival frowned at this.

Sophia didn't talk much after what happened. She was quiet, constantly thinking and taking in her surroundings.

“Sophia, have you considered what you want to do with your eye?” Vex asked. Percival was at a distance but was listening in on this conversation.

“I want something that’s obviously not an eye that looks super cool.” Sophia nodded.

“Aren’t you worried about-”

“Not really.”

“You really are something else, darling.” Vex smiled and played with her hair.

“I think it would be cool.” Sophia shrugged.

The next day Percival, sweaty and exhausted, gave Sophia a white eye with bubbles where the pupil will be.

#tw blood #tw corpses #tw eye damage #percival de rolo #critical role #percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo iii #vex'ahlia #keyleth

30 notes · View notes

hotchley · 4 years ago

Text

and he will come back home

because these people are his family. and this place is his home.

or, six times out of many aaron hotchner realised that other things may change us but we do indeed, start and end with our family because they are the people that love us, without any conditions, and not in spite of, but because of, our flaws.

this is literally pure fluff because someone *ahem* @whump-town *ahem* has been posting sad things which made me want to write something sweet.

nobody asked for this. literally nobody. however, it made me happy, so now everyone else has to put up with it.

trigger warnings: references to child abuse (physical and sexual) as both hotch and morgan’s pasts are mentioned very briefly

read on ao3!

1. Jennifer

“Eat.”

Hotch looked up from his paperwork in surprise. JJ was stood in front of his desk, hands on her hips, somehow managing to intently stare both at him and the plate she’d put down in front of his name plate.

He hadn’t even heard her come in. But the door had been open, and the unspoken rule was that, unless his door was closed, nobody in the team needed to announce themselves. JJ and Dave were the only ones to actually follow that rule, everyone else knocking first. He used to think it was because he was unapproachable, but now he knew better. It was just what they preferred to do, just in case they were intruding.

Instead of taking the plate, he looked down at his watch. Time had gotten away from him, and he hadn’t eaten in about five hours, or however long it had been since him and Jack had eaten breakfast. In fact, Jack was probably the only reason he remembered. Because children copied their parents, and he couldn’t exactly tell Jack to eat his cereal if all he was doing was sipping some coffee.

In his defence, skipping lunch had not been the plan. There was just so much paperwork, and Strauss had needed to meet with him, and then there was the budget reports- and okay, maybe he had been intending to work through lunch. Sue him. He’d been feeling nauseous for days now, and he had no idea why. What he did know, was that eating made it worse. So did not eating, but still.

It was worse when he ate.

“JJ, I have all this paperwork,” he said.

“I know. Which is why you need to eat.”

He stared at her. She simply smiled and pushed the plate towards him. He actually looked at it now.

“That is-”

“A peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Yes. One of the few things you can stomach when you’re feeling sick.”

“How did you even?”

“I love you.” And it was the way that she said the words, so easily, without any hesitation or expectation attached that made him pick up the sandwich. He thought she would stay, at least until he’d taken the first few bites, but instead she stood, smiled and left.

He tried not to let it sting. She had a job to do as well.

But she came back, holding her own sandwich. “I know you hate eating alone. I just wasn’t about to come in here with my own lunch, or else you’d just watch me eat.”

She sat down in the chair opposite him and immediately took the pile of files that needed to be completed from him. As she bit into her sandwich, crumbs dropping onto her skirt, she started flicking through them. Hotch made a faint noise of protest. JJ just gave him the same look she gave her son when he wouldn’t go to sleep.

Aaron ate his sandwich.

“Let’s see. Morgan’s. Emily’s. Morgan again. And again. That’s Dave’s. Me and Garcia told Strauss the system crashed so technically, you don’t have the figures for that, which means I can just,” she throw that folder in the bin.

The next few minutes passed in a similar way. By the time she was done sorting, his pile was reduced to two files, both of which would be done by two. Which meant he could go pick up Jack.

“Thanks JJ,” he said. Not just for the sandwich, or for the files. For everything.

She smiled. “It’s not a problem.”

For once, he believed her.

2. Spencer

It had been a while since Hotch had done a custodial interview with Reid. After the whole Chester Hardwick incident, he tended to send Reid with Morgan. Or Prentiss. Or anyone that wasn’t him. One time, to give Anderson some more experience, the two of them had gone together.

He had no idea what had happened, but he never got the reports from either of them. And when he logged onto the database to see if they had gone to Rossi, or even Garcia for convenience, there was no evidence of the trip ever occurring. And that was when he decided that he didn’t want to know.

But that was irrelevant to their current situation. His ear was hurting. Reid had offered to drive them back because Hotch had done the drive there. Under normal circumstances, Hotch would have rather sat in a car with Morgan during the hunt for an unsub than let Reid drive. However, if anyone was going to cause an accident right now, it was him.

The ringing in his ears had only gotten worse as their prisoner had refused to talk. The lack of noise had made it the only thing he could focus on. And now, in the car, they were sat in silence. Reid was narrowing his eyes at other cars, being ever so cautious with the gas, focusing intently. And Hotch was glad that he wasn’t getting distracted, but he really needed to hear something.

He could also feel himself drifting off, Reid’s speed and the movement of the car soothing, especially given that normally it was him that needed to pay attention to the road. But every time he thought he was about to fall asleep, the piercing sound would get worse. And he would jolt, now fully awake.

Until he just didn’t.

When he woke up, he was confused. The surroundings had completely changed. And the radio was on. Some classical music he didn’t know the name of, but he had memories of dancing with Penelope at one of the FBI functions with that playing in the background. The thought made him smile.

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and turned to face Reid. “Where are we?”

“I took a slight detour because you finally looked peaceful. Also, is the music okay? Lots of studies show that for people with hearing problems, having something soft play in the background helps them sleep. I don’t know what you think about classical music, but something called WAP, maybe? just did not seem like your thing.”

Hotch smiled. “Spencer, it’s fine. It’s perfect actually.”

Reid grinned back at him. “Good. Also when I took us on a detour, I got a bit lost so we’re now an hour away from Quantico.”

Hotch shook his head, fondly, but rested his head against the window once more, letting the soft piano and violin soothe him to sleep again, feeling completely and utterly safe.

3. Emily

“I can do it,” Emily said, poking her head through the door.

Hotch jumped in his chair, rolling his eyes when he realised it was just her, almost giving him a heart attack. Again. Probably for the thirtieth time that week. Dave, who was sat opposite him, just smirked, head resting on his cheek and Aaron silently cursed him. He must have known.

“Emily. How long have you been standing there?” he asked.

She smiled. “Long enough to know that you have a meeting with Strauss but Jack needs picking up from school because at four he’s going to the dentist. Which is why I’m saying that I can do it.”

Dave stood. “I’m going to take this as my cue to leave.”

Hotch watched as he left and Emily took his seat.

“Emily,” he said with a sigh.

“Aaron,” she responded, mocking his tone.

“It’s unfair to ask you to do that,” he said. What he meant was that he didn’t want to inconvenience her or her plans because he couldn’t get his dates straight, and that he should just cancel his meeting because fuck Strauss.

“These things happen. And Strauss will behead you if you miss this meeting. Jack and I will be fine. And besides, would you really deprive him of time with his favourite aunt?”

Damn Emily Prentiss and her ability to always know what he was thinking. “Em, I know you love Jack. And he loves you, but I still can’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. And even if you say no, I’ll still turn up. I’m on the list of approved people, they won’t stop me.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

And four hours later, Jack walked through the steps of the BAU, with an unusually wide grin for somebody that had just gone to the dentist. Emily was smirking.

“You didn’t,” were the first words out of Hotch’s mouth. Jack ran towards his dad and Hotch crouched down to high-five him. He winced when he realised he now had sticky hands.

“He deserved a treat for his perfect teeth,” Emily said.

“Yeah! Auntie Emmy said that you would understand and she got you a surprise because she knew that would make you more happy,” Jack said, grinning.

Hotch looked up at Emily, who sheepishly held out a cupcake. He smiled at her. She relaxed.

Uncle Spencer was showing Jack a magic trick when he went over to her.

“You’re amazing with him,” he whispered.

She shrugged. “I just do the things that feel right.”

“That’s all any of us can do. But I do enjoy it when the two of you spend time together. It makes you smile.”

“It’s funny, because I think the same thing about you. You look happier with him.”

“You make me smile as well. You all do. I just- I never know how to say it.”

“But you don’t need to. We know you love us. It shows in everything you do. And we love you too.”

Hotch turned to watch his son laugh and smile with the rest of his aunts and uncles. They all looked so innocent. So happy. So beautiful.

“Yeah. I know that.”

4. Derek

“Is everyone else asleep?” Morgan asked as he sat opposite Hotch.

The case had been a long one, and they had only departed a half-hour ago, meaning they wouldn’t be landing till the early hours of the morning. Reid had, like with most cases, taken the couch. JJ and Emily were sharing a blanket, JJ resting her head on Emily’s shoulder and Dave was sat opposite them. Everyone’s eyes were closed. But with profilers, there were no guarantees.

“I think so. Why?”

“Because I’m about to ask you something that I don’t want everyone else hearing,” Derek said. Hotch closed the file and stared intently.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you decorated the apartment yet?”

Hotch closed his eyes. He hadn’t, but he kept meaning to. Jack’s room at the house had been completely to his taste, with superheroes plastered over every available service and stars stuck on the ceiling to help him sleep at night.

The whole house had been more homely than the apartment currently was. And Hotch had been planning to decorate ever since Haley passed away because that was Jack’s home now, it needed to look like one. But life had gotten in the way.

And every time he looked at a magazine, or went shopping, he just got completely overwhelmed. When him and Haley had moved into the house, he’d let her take over the decorating. And when he bought his apartment, the concern had been having it be equidistance from there and work. Not how it looked.

Obviously, that had now all changed.

“I don’t want to offend you, I just wanted to know,” Derek said, taking the silence as offence.

“You’re not offending me. And no I haven’t.” Hotch sighed. Morgan leant back, giving him the space to either speak or change the subject. “I do want to,” he continued. “I just- I get overwhelmed. And I don’t know how much choice Jack should have, you know?”

“I get it. What are you doing tomorrow?”

If it was Dave, Aaron would have lied. But it wasn’t.

“Nothing, if I’m being completely honest. I may take Jack to the library and the park but aside from that…”

“Let me take you shopping. I’ve seen your apartment, I know the layout. I’ll tell you what would work best in the area and you can say yes, no or maybe. If you don’t find anything, that’s fine, but at least you can get some ideas.”

Hotch smiled. “You’d really do that for me?”

Morgan nodded. “Course. I know what I said when Strauss suspended you, but I do like you.”

“Well I would hope so after all the times I’ve saved your ass,” Hotch joked, setting the paperwork aside. The unsub was going to prison for a long time, it could wait.

Morgan’s taste was impeccable, and by the end of their shopping trip, they had purchased more decorative items than Hotch could carry. Luckily, Jack was okay with carrying the bag of wall stickers up, and he was content to babble on about everything he was going to do. Hotch had asked Morgan to stay for dinner, Jack making it impossible for him to leave.

When it got to Jack’s bedtime, he asked Morgan for a hug. Morgan bent down and embraced the kid, making eye contact with Hotch. Aaron knew what he was trying to say: neither of them would ever be capable of harming a child the way they had been.

“See you in the morning Hotch,” Morgan said, holding his hand out.

Hotch thought screw it and hugged him.

“Oh!” Morgan said with a laugh. “This is nice.”

Hotch pulled back with a smile. “Yeah. It is.”

5. Dave

When Hotch had first joined the unit, Dave learnt several things about him. One was that he wore the same suits pretty much all the time, the only difference being his tie. Two being that he hated lemon flavoured desserts with a passion, and if you injected enough morphine into him, he would tell you his literal court case for banning it.

The third, and arguably most important, was that every April, without fail, something would happen, and he would end up sick. One year it was learning he was allergic to shellfish. Another year it was chicken pox- which had been great. The year before he retired, Hotch had slipped down a hill and landed in poison ivy.

It had not been pleasant for anyone involved, even if secretly it had been hilarious to watch Hotch be forced to stay in the hotel because they didn’t know if he would pass it onto someone else.

This year, it seemed like it was the flu. When Dave answered the phone, Aaron had not sounded great. Now they were sharing a hotel room, and every few minutes, he would start coughing. It wouldn’t be a coughing fit, nor was it really enough to class him as ill, but Dave knew it was just the start.

He’d never been so glad that he had remembered to pack coughs syrup and various other medications. However, if he tried to help now, Aaron would probably do something stupid, like claim he would be fine because he did this every year, and every year he ended up not being fine.

The next day, it was clear he was unwell. He kept pressing one hand to his ear, his eyes were watery and there was a rather mortifying moment where his voice just went in the middle of his bad cop routine. Luckily, Emily was able to keep a straight face, but everyone else started giggling.

As soon as Hotch was out of the interrogation, Dave held up the cough syrup and car keys.

“You’re going to take this, and then I’m going to drive you back to the hotel. Then you’re going to get that jumper you technically stole from me, put it on and sleep. You’re not to come back till this flu passes.”

“Dave,” Hotch protested. That was the thing about him. He would be completely fine most of the time, but the moment he showed even the slightest symptom of sickness, it was only a matter of twenty-four hours before he completely shut down.

“Don’t make me phone Jessica,” Dave warned.

Hotch rolled his eyes, too tired to properly argue. A nap did sound good.

“Open up,” Dave said.

“I can give myself cough syrup,” Hotch said. However, that required him opening his mouth, so Dave just shoved the spoon in with a smirk.

It ended up knocking him out. Cough syrup always did. Dave smirked, took a quick picture and sent it to Garcia. It would be a cute surprise when Christmas came around.

Hotch was conscious enough to change into the jumper Dave had let him wear once- Hotch had been an idiot and not packed a single item of knitwear, which had led to Dave just sighing and passing his own jumper on, and then never getting it back- and the pyjama bottoms that were so worn, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had them since he joined.

“You’re really nice to me Dave,” Hotch mumbled, voice muffled by the hotel pillows.

Dave brushed his hair off his forehead and kissed him softly. He felt far too warm already. But it was fine. Hotch would complain, JJ would stare and he would obey the orders he’d been given.

“Get some rest kiddo,” Dave said, switching the lamp on and closing the curtains.

By the time they were flying back to Quantico, Aaron was fine. Dave was more than a little smug about that- not that he would ever take credit for his recovery, or anything like that. Nope. That was not who he was.

6. Penelope

Hotch loved all of his team. How could he not? They were his family. No, more than that. They were his chosen family.

But there was something about Penelope Garcia that he just loved even more. It wasn’t that she was his favourite, that was a bad way of wording it, but he was in awe of her entire being. The confidence with which she wore the clothes that made her feel beautiful, because screw the FBI clothing regulations, never failed to make him smile.

Her flirty comments- whether they were aimed at him or someone else- always made the colour rise in his cheeks. He had been raised in the south, where holding hands without a marriage proposal was seen as scandalous- and okay that was an exaggeration, but the point still stood. It kept them all of their toes.

But more than all of that, it was her complete and utter faith in humanity that made him love her in a different way to the rest of the team. She was always so good, and so kind and so loving. They had all seen what the world did to the people that saw beauty. Hell, she’d been on the receiving end of it all. And yet somehow, she never wavered. Even when she was upset, she managed to find the joy.

Garcia loved her boss as well. Not in a weird, forbidden romance way. Just as a best friend. He was always so sweet to her. And everyone else. He did everything he could to get her systems upgraded, always apologising when he couldn’t. Sometimes, when she needed a break from the screens and her bunker, she would just sit in his office, admiring various things.

She still couldn’t understand how he didn’t even know what half the certificates he had were for.

Garcia had spent a decent amount of time in Hotch’s office. And it just always seemed a bit boring. He kept a photo of the team in his desk drawer, alongside a bottle of wine that Rossi had told him to hide- if Strauss ever asked, nobody had even heard of alcohol- but it wasn’t very welcoming.

Hotch was welcoming. She never had any trouble going into the office when he was there. But aside from the heavy books to do with the law on the bookshelf behind him- you could take him out of the prosecutor’s office, but you could never truly get rid of the prosecutor within him- and the photo of Jack on his desk, it wasn’t him.

She hated having to grab things when he wasn’t there.

It became her mission to find a way to get it decorated. But she just never knew what to do, and she wasn’t about to tell the team. This was her special mission.

The team were coming back from a difficult case. JJ had warned her that Hotch had taken it particularly hard, so to maybe tone down whatever surprises she had planned. Garcia had put the brownies she’d made into the fridge. Damn profilers and their stupid abilities that meant they always knew when something was going on.

She was sat in Hotch’s office, just waiting for him to enter.

When he did, she stood up.

“Sir.”

He jumped. “Garcia.”

“I have something for you. It’s for your office.”

He raised an eyebrow, and suddenly, it felt like a terrible idea. She glanced round the office, at it’s neutral walls, the desk, devoid of anything put his pen pot and nameplate, the chairs that didn’t even have patterned cushions. Even the spare blanket he kept in there was plain.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be for your office, you could always put it in your bedroom. Actually, that’d probably be weird too. If you hate it, just say and I can always return it or you could give to Jack. I bet Jack would like it. If you don’t. If you do-”

“Penelope, I’m sure it’s beautiful,” he said, with the broad smile he only ever used with her.

“Right. Well, here you go.”

She held out the bag. He opened it.

“It’s a plushie.”

“Not just any plushie. It’s a beanie baby. And it’s called Bandito. I picked it because it’s got the same birthday of you. See look at the tag. Also it’s a raccoon. I don’t know if you realised that. I get now that it may be a bit weird. It’s just I was thinking about how impersonal your office is- not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just thought that maybe, it would be nice.”

When he looked at her, she could’ve sworn there were tears in his eyes.

“Penelope, I love it. I- nobody has ever put that much thought into buying me a plushie before. I mean, nobody ever really bought me soft toys. Thank you.”

She grinned. “Don’t thank me, you deserve it. So can I hug you? This feels like a huggy moment.”

He nodded, a little hesitant. She hugged him, pretending to not notice when she felt the sleeve of her cardigan dampen slightly.

When he pulled away, she held onto his hand for a few more seconds before letting go. He put the raccoon next to his pen pot, where anyone walking past or in would see it.

“It looks perfect,” he said.

Strauss tried to make a snide comment about it the next time they had a meeting. Hotch retaliated by buying one that had the same birthday as Garcia. And by the end of the year his office had one matching up with Jack, Sean, Jessica and Haley- all in various places.

He kept the ones corresponding with the team on his desk. Because they were his family. And every time he sat down at his desk, he would be reminded that he was home.

69 notes · View notes