#like it's far from intentional but that's the thing you've got a kid and you've got to think past that intention to how it may hurt them
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made it one (1) cookie into christmas day cookie baking without a standmixer before i went this cannot stand, and now i have had my finger on the launch button of my shopping cart on the kitchenaid website for 45 minutes. an interesting thing about me is i will buy a customized jersey for $250+ without thinking twice, but then i look at a kitchenaid stand mixer and i'm like no i couldn't POSSIBLY...it is EXTRAVAGANT... even though a stand mixer will easily get more use on a consistent basis than um. z.ach h.yman leafs jersey. &tc
livejournal posting on the microblogging website
having a very nice christmas so far. i am spending it alone and earlier this week i spent about 10 minutes feeling sorry for myself about it, and then said WHAT the fuck am i doing. to wake up on christmas morning and not want to kill myself is going to be the greatest gift. and made a plan to make cookies and a sheet pan dinner that my family hates but that i love. and you know what, i did not wake up and feel like ending it all, and even though i am having immense cookie struggles, i feel better than i have in years. i like building traditions. it's fun.
talked to my sister and her husband this morning and while i always feel better about everything after talking to them, today was especially nice because her husband got on the phone whipped the fuck about their neighbor's kid or kids hiding musical instruments on their property. he was like you've worked extensively with teenagers, PLEASE explain why a teenager would do something this bizarre. and it's nice when i can be of help to them these days bc they spent so much of winter and spring trying to convince me not to gaslight myself into thinking any of it was normal or survivable. it's nice to be like, ok now i am in a safe space so i can offer my infinite wisdom. also very funny to be the teenager whisperer of the family. the three of us worked through the issue and landed on a solution that didn't involve my sister's husband narcing on the kid to their very strict and religious parents about instrument-playing lol. and that made me feel good bc we are several thousand miles away from each other but we're still very present in each other's lives.
i don't know it's being christian or if it's just spending a lot of years way too drunk on new year's eve to hashtag cope and waking up on jan 1 hungover as hell like goddammit not this shit (being alive) again. but this year christmas day feels like more of the start of a new year. i think about goal-setting and trying new things to inhabit my life more vividly and today feels like more of a place to start. like the light is here and i am too etc. this is a long-winded way saying that my 2025 goal is to take more pictures bc while i do love to live in the moment, i DON'T love that i have next to no pictures of the people i love or the things that i have enjoyed seeing or the creations i have made. not to be a Instagram Poster, but it's like i would love to remember what my internet friends' faces look like. or that cool rock i saw in someone's yard... i don't have to always live in the moment about rocks and friends it's ok to be like, i am enjoying this moment and i want simple proof that it existed beyond my memory.
and i have just tried both cookies i made and they are both very strange experiences that did not really spark joy so i am going to stare intently at the kitchenaid site for another hour
#like when am i gonna wear a leafs jersey again#meanwhile we have my grandma's kitchen she bought in the 70s that still works well#you know like...like the thing i would use multiple times a month if not weekly when i was at home#staring at blue kitchenaid stand mixer. you could fix me#suicidality cw#but in a good way yk like not feeling that way anymore#fresno oilers.txt
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Fantastic chapter like always and absolutely adorable.
I love how you expand so much on the characters even the dead ones in this fic in a way that makes them so present in the narrative. The way this makes Frank just completely absorbed by his family constantly while still building them as real people independent to him is great. Just the little details about Maria this chapter and how they relate to Matt is absolutely fantastic
The situation between Peter and Frank needed to blow up spectacularly before getting resolved I should have known that something would actually blow up.
The way you showed the Spidey sense in action through Franks pov was really good it's my favorite Spidey power and really fun to see in action.
Poor Peter though. I hope that once the situation gets resolved he can have a good cry about everything ever.
Also I really want Tony to get punched in the face. Just a small punch! Just once! But Jesus Christ the way he handled this situation has been so bad for Peter I am so angry at him. I know he's dealing with something behind the scenes bit still he needs to think about the impact this all has on Peter it's so bleak and isolating
i simply love explosions and add them in to everything i can. they're the spice of life. do not have the police investigate me i am so so normal about fire
Maria Castle is alive in my head and I love her. the version that lives in my head simply loves Matt. He's the dumbass little brother she's always wanted. He enchants her with his poor decision making and emotional unavailability. When he comes over she insists on throwing herself in his arms and he twirls her around because it annoys frank and they're inherently both assholes. The Maria in my head will never be showcased unless i end up pushing my Castle Family Agenda in earnest, but I will reference her as she exists in my head in works where she's still dead. I love her your honor.
The reaction to tony in kintsugi continues to be hilarious to me because kintsugi partially exists because I didn't see this reaction post-CW. Like the reaction I saw was mostly hardcore Iron Dad and i just didn't really see or hear a lot of commentary about how he handled the time between CW and Homecoming. And in kintsugi I changed literally nothing about how Tony treated Peter in that time and people are soooo mad at him. It's kind of funny
#there definitely were people who also didn't like how tony handled the time between CW and homecoming i just never really saw them#like to be clear i don't think this response originated with kintsugi and op you may have felt this way pre kintsugi#it's just part of the thing that kicked off this fic was that i didn't like tony going radio silent after CW#and then getting a world best dad mug from the fandom after it#i'm so glad y'all agree#the tony stark thing was the one thing i took no creative liberties on it's just straight up canon#like it's far from intentional but that's the thing you've got a kid and you've got to think past that intention to how it may hurt them#like tony throughout homecoming just. didn't make a single decision with respect to peter i agreed with. not in the entire movie.#i walked out like 'wow i would sort of try to have this man arrested if peter was my child' which was NOT the fandom takeaway that i saw#i just saw like 900000 irondad fics applauding it#it was pretty bad child care all around#the first step of kintsugi#pottery shards verse#thank you for reading and coming to talk to me you are a delight as always and i am soooo grateful#your kinds words are always a joy#pottery shards is not abandoned i'm just enslaved to hyperfixation right now which is over in the tma side
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ᡣ𐭩 •。ꪆৎ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 | kenji sato x gender neutral reader
love mail — ヽ(o´3`o)ノ full & utter credit to @coralwitchsheep in support of their preview of a kenji x reader series they're starting! (i'd suggest reading theirs first before reading this for context) i'm inlove w the idea and can't wait to read the next parts o(T□T)o ♡♡ this is my own spin on it, so to cut it short — likely not canon events! i js wanted to make a oneshot w relatively same concept,, if this does okay maybe part two. maybe ! (this is kinda long 🙁)
︰꒱꒱ "THAT WENT WELL." you grumbled, entering your home with a frustrated sigh. what kind of guy runs away from an interview? all you asked was what could've possibly made him want to start from the beginning by coming back to japan. sure, maybe you startled him with your presence after 20 years, but come on. can't he be a little more professional? and maybe a little more welcoming to his best friend once upon a time?
as you snuggled into the comfort of your couch, you wanted to binge watch a few movies that you've been putting off.. but work called. you had to check your email incase any of your private interview bookings were accepted, or if the head journalist had yet another task for you. and if so, then to your dismay you'd have to figure out bookings and schedule.. and you should've been overjoyed to not receive any new ones, but there was one unopened email. curiously, you click on it — and you pause. kenji sato, as in — the one that just ran off after a single question, kenji sato? how did he find your email.. something you'll have to figure out later, but continuing to scan the contents, it seems like he wanted to have a one on one interview, and everything had been planned in advanced. it's in a restaurant not far from your home, in fact.. it was your favorite one from when you were a kid. reading the restaurant name makes you smile a little, fond memories of kenji's family and yours going there together, but you quickly shake your head to focus, this was basically work — after all.
it was a dinner, he wanted to apologize for his dismissive attitude to you earlier that day and give you a private interview. the entire email honestly felt computer generated, if mina wrote it you wouldn't be surprised until you got to the end;
"please, (name), let's catch up. professional setting or not, that's up to you. i just need to see you."
now you had to admit, that felt...— you weren't sure what it felt like, but you felt something while reading that. your fingers swiftly type back a response, accepting the invitation, with no bad blood between them for the prior interaction. as you click send, your mind began to wander off to possible situations. after all, twenty years.. it's a significant amount of time, and people can change — you just hoped it wouldn't be the worst reunion in the world.
the following day passed like spring breeze, next thing you knew you were dressing up for the arranged meeting with kenji. unsure whether to be casual or business, you weren't even set onto whether you wanted to catch up, or catch a story. job or feelings? now that's a hard decision. in the end, you went for a mix of both, a casual business attire.
you wondered if it was intentional for kenji to pick a place so close to home, literally and figuratively; it was a 5 minute walk and it.. honestly means a lot to you. your family still visits there often, and there's not one day that they don't discuss how much more joyful things would be with the sato's to share a meal with you. you couldn't help but silently agree, even if you wanted to act like you hated kenji for leaving.
you thought it would be smart to be there 10 minutes earlier, but kenji seems to have beaten you. he hasn't noticed you coming in yet, however he seems nervous. he's talking with the elderly head chef, who could easily recognize professor sato's only son boy — catching up after all those years. his head moves to the door by coincidence, catching your gaze. you wave hello and he smiles, waving back.
"holy shit." kenji feels like the air from his lungs is stolen right out of him. you've grown so much, well — yes, of course, it has been years, but god he didn't think you'd still have that affect on him. even as kids, as teenagers, and now as an adult — he couldn't help but feel breathless at the sight of you.
"hi mr. sato." you'll start, sitting next to him and giving a friendly smile. he laughed, taking his shades off his face and resting them down onto the table. "you know you don't have to do that with me, use my name. it's not like we're strangers." you didn't expect that, and kenji could see that in your eyes — he almost regrets saying it the way he did, but your expression melts into a much more casual one. "alright, kenji."
his attitude felt different, honestly. the things you've read about him from articles, he's an egoist — completely full of himself, he just can't stop talking about his own achievements. so to sit right next to him, and to feel like you're a little kid again, just eating wirh your best friend.. it's weird.
the silence is suffocating, food sizzling on pans and fire burning were the only things being 'exchanged' between the two of you.
deciding to break the silence, you cleared your throat. "so.. how has life been in america?" you immediately regret it. now you'll have to listen to him boast about his wins, how happy he's been — how you haven't even crossed his mi— "lonely."
your racing thoughts came to a pause at the sound of his voice, weirdly vulnerable, — you unknowingly made it so easy for him. "it was lonely. sure, but i won't lie—" kenji chuckled, although it lacked the joyful emotion tied to such form of laughter, and instead — sorrow. "the spotlights great. winning awards and trophies, it's what i've wanted to do for years. but.."
his hand moves over to his face, and suddenly it's harder to keep eye contact with you. he leans back into his chair and scoffs, looking away. "i missed japan. i missed my family.. i — i missed you."
your mouth goes slightly agape in an 'o' shape. you suddenly fumble on any words you can think of, even in your own mind, you begin to stutter. "i'm—" you'll try to speak but it's like you have no mouth, nothing can describe how you feel at the moment, it's such a basic and simple arrangement of words, an 'i miss you', and yet — why do you feel like this? you resented him for not calling, you envied how happy he was through a tv screen, and you wished that he'd just.. come back. and he did. he was doing exactly what you had hoped for in the past 20 years but — "i.. i've watched your life through a screen. every game, every loss, anything that involved you. and for those years, it felt impossible to tell *anyone* we were best friends. once." the *once* hit kenji harder than you thought. "but i wished, like some child spotting a shooting star — that you'd call. and not those half assed ones, where it was really just our parents talking and they call us over to say hi to each other. i mean, like we used to."
"what do you mean?" "you know what i mean."
your mind feels nostalgic as you reminicse; "2AM, you'll be talking about some punk from school who gave you trouble. and how i'd promise i'll beat them up once mom and dad had enough money to visit." a pitiful sigh escaped your lips. "they never did."
"i just.. i never wanted to move on, kenji. i never wanted to stop waiting. but.. i didn't want to keep feeling like a dog at your door for you."
as clichè as it is to hug someone during a dramatic monologue, kenji felt like there was nothing else he could do. words were practically silence when actions could do much more for him. his arms wrapped around you tightly, and his face was buried into your shoulder. he wanted to explain, but there was so much to cover in so little time — and he honestly just wanted you to feel better at the moment. "i wish i had known this is how you felt all those years apart. and i wish that i could've done more, but shit happens and i—"
and it's even more clichè to return that hug, with just as much feeling. "i know. and let's just.. talk things out, yeah? i've got a free day tomorrow so.. i don't think i'll mind spending the night with you."
"reword please, you'd love to spend the night with me."
"don't flatter yourself too much before i change my mind."
"alright alright, let's just eat already."
#♡ — 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆#ken sato#ken sato x reader#kenji sato#kenji sato x reader#ultraman rising#ultraman rising x reader
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It's Our Paradise, and It's Our War Zone
Another Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
I wrote this as a very small collection of one-shots from my longfic (you don't need to read that to read this). I made some minor changes, but it's nothing too crazy. Also, if the Spanish is off, let me know~
Word count: 3.5K
Content Warning: 18+, Pwp, PinV, bondage, overstimulation, toy usage, he uses his webs (not just for tying things up), blindfold, cunnilingus, bad jokes :]
Summary: Miguel helps you out with a daydream you've been having for awhile.
For the past few days, you've been self-motivating yourself to finally tell Miguel about a fantasy that's been lingering on your mind from the moment you realized you held that attraction to him. Specifically, sexual attraction.
You wanted to dangle from his webs, completely exposed and restrained, bounded by trust and that gripping lust.
You would stand in front of the mirror, reciting how you would blurt it out or ease it into a conversation; however, when the time seemed permitted, you would chicken out the last second, pretending as if it was some other ‘important’ thing, such as ‘pancakes, waffles, or French toast?’ Or, ‘did you watch that one show as a kid?’
So far, the mission has been an obvious failure. But that wasn't going to deter you from it. Far from it. Tonight was the night you would finally megaphone your burning desires and sensations to him once and for all.
When he arrived (through the window, because he doesn't believe in the key or door), things went as normal. You made some homemade burgers and pre-cooked fries, watched random episodes from some show, and played a few rounds of your karting game.
There was some chit-chatting in between, but the main topic refused to show itself on stage. Your palms were sweaty as you wiped them on your shorts for the umpteenth time in a row. You battled with how exactly you were going to say this; all that practicing you did began to clash, and it wasn't helping you one bit. You were scattered.
“Alright. Tell me what's on your mind before you blow a nerve over there, amor.”
You yelped at the sudden confrontation before nervously laughing louder than you expected. "Oh, it's nothing, Miggy. I'm just thinking about some funny jokes in my head.”
Miguel raised a brow. You weren't very vague; there was more to it, and he knew it, but he wanted to see if you could get it out with just a bit of a push from him.
“Okay then. Tell me a joke.”
“Wh-what?” You blinked, a bit stupefied.
“Tell me a joke. I want a good one. So go ahead and make me laugh.” His body was facing you fully.
You were thrown into an unwarranted spotlight. All eyes were on you. You hated that you got yourself into this.
“A… a joke.” You gulped loudly.
“Si. Give me a joke.” Miguel's authoritative tone seeped out, and it wasn't helping you at all.
A joke? That's a difficult thing to serve, especially when one is put on the spot, unless you're a professional. Witty one-liners and puns are easier, but having to come up with the starter, the execution, and the punchline is a whole process in itself.
You thought about stalling and beating around the bush.
“No stalling either.”
At this point, you believed he was a mind-reader. There was no other explanation for it.
He was intently staring into your soul with those mesmerizing eyes, as you did your best to look at everything else besides him.
“Right. So, here's my joke. It's coming up right now, right this seco-”
“You're stalling. Joke. Now.”
You felt yourself straining in more ways than one.
“Okay, uh, let's see… How do you catch a squirrel? Climb a tree and act like a nut.” You drummed the air, tittering, before tightening your lips together.
The air was cumbersome, and Miguel's dead gaze wasn't helping.
“That was bad. Muy mal.”
“Hey! I don't think it was that bad. You asked for a joke, and I gave one.”
“Yes, but a joke that makes me laugh.” He leaned in, entrapping your body. “That didn't even get a chuckle, corazón.”
You squirmed on the sofa, his husky breath traveling through your veins. How you disliked, but loved the easy affects he had on you.
“So tell me, what's really running through there?” He skimmed his knuckle from your forehead to your chin, your breathing picking up.
He wanted you to speak your mind. He often reminds you not to be scared to do it, especially around him. He loves listening to your thoughts and observations. And one thing he also adores hearing is your wants and needs. He's always ready to care for and respect them.
“I-I…”
“Go on. What's going on in that brain? I know for a fact that it isn't just jokes.”
He had you cornered. Figuratively and literally. That stare wasn't going anywhere, and neither were you. He could do this all night if he really strived for it. He is a strong-willed man after all.
“Fine! Back when we were first getting to know each other and all, we knew each other, but we didn't have that ground of–”
“You're stalling!” He snarled out, pressing his body into yours. “To the point. Now!”
Your eyes widened at that domineering voice. You didn't even realize he could get that booming and demanding. He started to tense up when he recognized that change.
“I'm so sorry, mi corazón. I didn't mean to sound like that. I usually don't use that voice unless others refuse to listen. Wa-wait! I'm not saying you're not listening; I mean–”
“I had this fantasy of being fully tied up in your webs. A sense of trust and longing to be there.” You bumped your forehead into his, that burning passion glazing over.
Miguel's breathing became rapid. Was this what you really wanted? Or was it something that you would believe he would want? He couldn't lie that he also didn't have those lingering around his brain, but would you truly be okay with it?
“I- are you sure you want something like that?”
“Yes, this is what I want to try. This is something I want.” You were determined to do this, praying that he would accept your fiery cravings.
“Corazón, will you allow me to–”
“Yes, I will allow you to take control. To tie me in your webs.” You placed your wrists together, expressing that vulnerability. “Please, Miguel.”
Miguel nodded, knowing that no more words needed to be said. Everything was now on the table. He lowered his head until his lips were on yours. Folding your legs around his waist and your arms over his neck, Miguel picked you up, placing your body on a nearby wall.
“Mi hermosa amor, te adoraré ahora y siempre. Siempre me preguntaré cómo te conseguí.” Miguel whispered against your neck, causing you to moan and writhe.
He nibbled the crook of your neck and collarbone, his tongue gliding over the delicate skin. His hands dragged down your shirt, lifting it over your head.
He brushed his claws over your hardened nipples, tweaking them before bending forward and nibbling the nubs hungrily. You blissfully sighed out, when a sudden memory popped up in Miguel's head.
“That vibrator… It's in your left bottom drawer by your bed, right?”
You froze. “You… I… How did you know about that?!” You honestly assumed you swept that in the corner, hidden away from the naked eye.
“I found it when you told me to bring that bottle of lube.” He flicked his tongue over your cleavage, leaving hickies on your chest and the valley.
“How—but you had to really peek to have—”
“You were the one who told me to put it there, baby.” His claws made their way to your shorts and tugged them down, caressing your thighs. “It rolled out when I pulled the drawer out.”
You were flustered, stuttering, when Miguel planted a kiss to quiet you down. “Do you want me to get it? I will only do it if you want me to.”
It took you exactly one second before wholeheartedly agreeing. You wanted to know how far this fantasy of yours would go, and you were excited that there was an unexpected but welcome addition.
You slid out one of your dining room chairs and sat down. Miguel held that confidence in his walk, and you knew it. Strolling back out with your purple and white magic wand and the bottle, you gave a thumbs-up.
Retaking your earlier positions, he sat the items in the chair, pressing your body back into the wall, two fingers making their way in your panties, rubbing the folds, proud of how wet you were.
“Mm, I–ah–want to be gagged and blindfolded.”
“You really want to be tethered up, don't you?” His thumb rolled over your clit as he stared for any signs of displeasure.
“I have an eye mask in the same drawer, and the fantasy includes your webs in between my teeth.”
Miguel made no hesitation; he was back with it in a blink of an eye. You could tell how roused he was by the throbbing bulge in his pajama pants, as you swore you could see some damp stains.
“If I do this, you'll need to have a way to alert me if you start feeling uncomfortable. Safewords won't exactly work.”
You closed one eye, thinking for a few seconds, when you snapped your fingers. Propping your hands over your head, you gave a thumbs-up.
“Thumbs-up means you can go; bunny ears mean slow down; and when I snap, stop.” You demonstrated each motion as Miguel nodded.
“Vale, vale, bien.” He brushed the side of your face and smiled. “You ready?”
You nodded, arms still above your head. He picked you up with ease as you examined him shooting his webs at the wall and the ceiling. Carefully sticking you to the netting, he bound you in a dragonfly shibari tie, thoroughly taking his time.
“How many times have you done this?” You eyeballed his work as much as possible.
“A few.” He pressed a kiss on your stomach. “But that's all I'm going to say.”
You hummed out at the intriguing fact that'll now be stuck in your brain.
Putting the eye mask on, he waved his claw in front of you, happy that you didn't react to it.
“Okay. Ready to be muted?”
“I'm ready to be partially subdued.” You chuckled as he joined in.
“Okay, just let me know if you feel uncomfortable.” He shot out a long string, double roping it around your mouth and part of your head. “Bite down.”
You obeyed as you tried to get used to the thick organic webbing. It was like a rope, but not. A feeling that if someone asked you to describe, you wouldn't know where to begin.
He strummed over your curves, crooning at the beauty that was secured before him. His full lips and tongue were dragging and wetting your body as you felt two unsheathed fingers hook the bands of your underwear, drawing them down until they were on the floor.
His eyes were locked on your arousal. You exhaled out contentedly, knowing that you were in safe hands. Even if you weren't in control, you still felt like the leader of this.
He dropped to his knees, eye level with your clenching heat. You awaited him, electricity coursing through your veins, desperate to know when he would have his way with you. You could only groan, not being able to move any part of your body as you spread open like a buffet exclusively for him.
“Always a delightful sight.” He nipped your inner thighs, adding suction to leave markings.
“Mine.” He trailed his tongue over your vulva, making sure to get every part.
A while escaped, your chest heaving from the sensual lick. You yearned for more as you tried, but no matter what you enunciated, only jumbled-up groans from your throat came out.
He pretended not to hear your neediness, teasing your folds with a flick here and there. He would quickly bury his head into your entrance, pumping his tongue for a couple of seconds before pulling out. He did it several times, and you weren't happy with the taunts.
“Mmm! Mm mmmph!”
“Mmm, no puedo escucharte. All I hear is murmurs, amor.”
You could envision his condescending smirk just from his voice. You growled, but stopped when you felt the familiar head on your clit.
On a low setting, Miguel settled the toy, knotting the web around your waist and hips so it could stay attached right to the fleshy bud.
“Now, you will cum when I tell you. Understand?” He slid two fingers into your core, scissoring to help with your urges.
You hastily gave the thumbs-up, and your moans in his ears made him grunt. “Muy bueno, muy, muy bueno.”
He yanked his two fingers out, causing you to panic and request that he keep going as best as you could, when he suddenly upped the power.
“Mmmm—Mmph. Mmn!”
He removed his clothes and sauntered over to the seat you left out. Cozily perching himself down, he squeezed some of the clear substance on his hands, pleasuring his throbbing cock.
You despised that you couldn't see a thing, but you loved the feeling that he was still providing, even if you didn't know what it could be. You listened to his praises, your ears picking up squishing noises. You couldn't tell if that was from you or if he was doing something to himself.
“Look at my gorgeous moon. She's doing so well, trying not to cum. You're such a good girl for following my rules.”
He stroked himself faster as he eyed your messy, trembling figure. The vibrator went wild as your legs spasmed, but with the restraints, it barely seemed as though they were moving.
He licked his lips at your dripping pussy—a nice puddle formed on your wooden floorboards. A delicious view for only him to behold.
Your muffled screams and begs were music to his ears. Your face drenched in sweat, tears, and saliva, your mind ragged, knowing that he's observing every reaction and every moment. You knew he was enjoying himself way too much.
“Let's see if we can add a bit more, corazón.”
You shook your head; your faint pleas went unheard. The fact that he already denied you to orgasm, and now he wants more? He's torturing you at this point just because he can. And you adored it.
“Mmph! Mmm!” You wriggled as you sensed him getting closer to you.
“You doing okay?” He stroked your hair, and you gave the thumbs-up to have him keep going.
“Bueno.”
You heard another buzzing sound. Did he have a second vibrator? Did you? You swore you only had one, so you had zero idea what it could be.
“Mmmm? Mmm?”
Miguel chuckled at your curiosity, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead. “Remember, mi amor. No cumming unless I say.”
The sound was getting louder. You really wanted to see what it exactly was, so you snapped your finger, and Miguel immediately tore the silk from your mouth.
“Corazón? You okay?” He examined your face for any indication of uneasiness.
“I'm fine, Miggy. Just a bit interested if you had another vibrator.”
“No. It's my web.”
You were a bit lost. His web? But the ones around you weren't humming or anything like that, so that probed the question: what type of web was this then?
“But how is it buzz–” Your mouth was once again covered as you screeched when Miguel took hold of the toy, rubbing and pressing it harder on your clitoris.
“Laser web. Now remember. No. Releasing.” You gasped when something heated was pushed into your opening, convulsing and pulsating lightly.
Your toes curled at the overstimulation. You sobbed, your heart hammering at a treacherous tempo. You wanted to cum so badly; you wanted that sweet release of relief and satisfaction, but he wasn't going to allow it.
“There you go, such a good girl.” He pushed the web in and out in a rhythmic pattern. The drones from the objects, the squelching from your pussy, and those cute noises emitting from you made him twitch madly.
Your juices trickled down his claws, the other side wanting to escape as the nectar from your delectable pussy stickied his hand and web, as he knew you were doing everything in your power to not release.
He dropped the web when a raspy, guttural growl rumbled in his chest. “Fuck, fuck—I want you, corazón. I need you. Please.”
Miguel grasped the webs, his eyes lingering, waiting for that signal. You nodded, as he saw the thumb. He smiled and removed the mesh and blindfold, revealing that warmth and faith in your smile and gaze.
“You are beautiful, you know?”
“You mention it every chance you get.” You giggled out when he pushed his forehead on yours.
“Then I will continue to do it. You are very beautiful.”
He kissed you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, before shoving himself in one go. You threw your head back at the suddenness. A cry quickly turned into a shriek when you felt the familiar buzz on your clitoris once more.
Miguel began to thrust maniacally, your back rubbing against the wall from every pump he gave.
“You like that? Mmn, mmm, fuck, mi corazón, such a perfect little pussy for papi.” He grunted in your ear, licking the lobe.
“Mi-Miguel! Too… too much!” Your screams sprang out, your walls constricting with every deep impact.
“You can- fuck… You can take it—ah, mierda, so good…”
He released his firm hold on the netting to your hips. Pulling all the way out, he paused for a few seconds before ramming himself back to the hilt. He repeated this, prizing himself on the reactions.
Tears rolling down your chin, your shudders, and whimpers that merge into strangled moans. Your disheveled state as you took Miguel, feeling the tip brush against your cervix, as your belly bulged from every breach.
His hips grinding against yours, your brain foggy with white, and him in the center. The vibrator was whirring with every rock; you were losing your mind.
“Too sensitive- Miguel. Please!”
“I'm not stopping. Going to fuck–ah–going to fuck you until you can't walk.”
“Miguel!” You wailed out as drool leaked down as he rubbed against your g-spot.
“That's right; let them know who's doing this. You're mine. I'm going to have you and everyone else remember.” He rasped out in that ragged, husky tone, making you quiver all over.
His name was the only thing leaving your lips as your soaking walls clenched. The sensation from his throbbing, heated shaft as he hit every point perfectly. You slowly began to garble out his name, slurring it into one incoherent sentence.
“Mig-Miguuel!”
“There you go, who owns this pussy?”
“You.”
Miguel snarled in your face, yanking your head back. “I don't like repeating myself. Who? Owns? This? Pussy?!”
His hip bones slammed into yours. You were aware you were going to be overtly sore and bruised in the morning, but it was all worth it in the moment.
“Miguel! Miguel owns this pussy!”
“¡Sí, joder! ¡Buena chica, qué buena chica! ¡Papi es dueño de este coño, papi es dueño de este hermosa coño!”
You were far gone; the sounds of your wet, erotic bodies covered every square centimeter of your living room and kitchen, and maybe even out of the door.
Your feverish sobs and his primal growls sent you into a frenzy. A strong yearning began to creep itself into your stomach as Miguel's brutal pace refused to let up.
“I feel—ah—Miggy! I'm going to—I'm going to—”
“Cum, cum, my love. Yes, yes, cum on my cock. Do it. Cum!”
His hand reached between you two as he pressed the overwhelming toy more on your sensitive bud, jerking it back and forth like a joycon.
Your mouth opened wide, and your eyes rolled all the way into the back of your head when you snapped.
“Miguel!”
The bubble burst. You squirted out on his abs, your thighs, the floor, and who knows what else. Your body quaked as if someone were trying to perform an exorcism. But whatever was possessing you, you didn't want it to leave.
He growled out, pushing your legs up to change the angle. He propelled sporadically as he was close to his own climax.
“Sí, sí, sí, joder, joder, joder—corazón!”
He roared out, his talons pricking your hips, as he emptied his entire soul into you.
His chest heaved, your bodies glistening in sweat, as he pressed his forehead into yours, a shaky breath released.
“Ah… ah- ha…. Fuck. Baby? Corazón? You… you okay?”
“I…”
“Yes? You okay?” He wiped some moisture off your face.
“I- if the dove is the bird of peace, what is the bird of true love? It’s the swallow.” You gave a goofy and sleepy grin.
Miguel froze before he snickered and began to laugh.
“I did it! I made you laugh.”
“Ay, yes… Yes, you did. What am I going to do with you?”
You both smiled into the kiss, happily swirling your tongues in a messy dance.
“Did I fulfill your fantasy, amor?”
“Mhmm, but let's go another round, just to be sure it was completely satisfactory.”
“Dios mío, me estás matando, luna mía. Pero maldita sea, si no es de la mejor manera posible.”
You didn't understand, but your eyes were right back covered, and that was enough for you to know.
#Spotify#miguel o'hara smut#miguel x reader#miguel fanfic#miguel o'hara#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#miguel spiderverse#miguel x fem!reader#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x reader#oneshot
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A Job Offer
One Shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader
Genre: Angst and Smut
Words:��5.2k+
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, NSFW, smut, cursing, fingering, oral, overstimulation, strap on use (JJ!recieiving)
Summary: Despite you and JJ not being a couple, you do share nights together, nights that are not so innocent. However, when a job offer comes your way, you have to decide whether it'd be better to stay at the BAU or accept your new position, and like it or not, JJ has a part to play in this choice.
A/n: Hi, the kids don’t exist in this timeline. Also the timeline doesn’t timeline cause JJ ain’t really liaison, but I care not. Also, leaving it on a sorta cliffhanger without a part 2 cause I’m mean xoxo
"I'm going to cum!" JJ screamed up to the ceiling, her hips moving erratically to and from the mattress, "Fuck baby, so good."
You were fucking her just how she liked it, dirty, rough and hard, pounding the strap in and out of her so fast it became a blur of skin slapping against skin, the dildo only appearing in rapid intervals. JJ's hands were encouraging your every thrust, her nails etching their distinct curved signature into the supple skin of your ass.
"Do it," you encouraged, soaking up every desperate moan. With a slip of your hand between your bodies, you rubbed the older woman's clit, gently enough so that the sensitivity gained from the last hour of fucking was not piqued but hard enough so that the pressure would give her the needed edge over her impending orgasm, "Cum for me JJ."
"Yes!" She cried out, her release simultaneously sparking life into every cell in her body and freezing it in its tracks. Her hands stayed stagnant but firm, keeping you fully sheathed inside her as her body shuddered and her hips ground in circles, lengthening her orgasm to its full extent.
Slowly, a steady breathing pattern was adopted between the two of you. The hands holding you close slackened, allowing you room to pull out and fall back onto the mattress with a content sigh falling from your lips. The moment was only made better when soft blonde locks tickled your chest, and you glanced down to see JJ's head settling on your shoulder. Metal clacked quietly - fingers expertly unbuckling the harness from your hips, allowing you to shuffle it off and place it aside.
A comfortable silence soon fell over your bedroom, warm and lulling. Your fingers traipsed mindlessly up and down JJ's spine whilst she wrapped an arm around your waist, nestled closer into your neck, and planted light kisses over the salty skin. It was easy in times like these to lose yourself, forget the daily struggles that fed your sullen mind, and imagine that life could always be filled with the contentedness you were given a brief taste of. A daydream come true, but the reality was much crueler.
"I've got to go," JJ sighed after a minute or two, showing no intent or want of moving, "Will's back in an hour."
"A few more minutes," you grumbled, running a hand through her hair and pulling her body in a little closer.
No argument was made, and JJ wholeheartedly accepted her fate, shuffling her body half atop yours and moving her kisses higher to the fine line of your jaw. The finite moment lingered with sweet kisses and caresses shared, and soon, you succumbed to sleep. It's a simple but treasured thing, sleeping next to the person you've found yourself undeniably falling for. It's seeing another side of them and letting them see a secret side of you when you have no control over how you look - peaceful or softly snoring from the exhaustion of a long work day, as JJ often did.
The cold woke you, alongside the quiet shuffling from the far side of the room. It was never a fond sight to sit up, rubbing well-earned sleep from your eyes, and see JJ dressing herself, going over what excuse she'd come up with to tell her fiance.
"Shit," she groaned, walking over to the bed and placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's okay," you smiled, "What time is it?"
"Almost eight. We slept for about an hour," JJ rushed to say, double-checking her phone before tossing it into her bag, "I've got to go, but I'll see you tomorrow."
You tried your best to give her a convincing smile and a cordial nod, though you knew it was anything but. She was trying to hide the obvious stress running through her system from sleeping in too long and, most likely, being late back home. So you - as always - found yourself empathising.
"Drive safe," you said, your false smile still intact.
It wasn't hard to fall back asleep once you heard the front door to your apartment close. You'd become accustomed to warding off unpleasant thoughts after encounters and partings with JJ. The two options were either to feed them and entrap yourself into believing a false reality or to acknowledge that life just isn't pretty or straightforward, it's a brutal battlefield, and the only way to survive is to face the truth of a shitty situation. That acceptance kept you strong and tactile in how you responded to the predicament you'd found yourself in. So, sleep came easy, knowing you'd already surmounted the horrors that fought to keep you awake.
The following morning was, as it turned out, not so ordinary. The routine check of your emails had you up on your feet and pacing, overcome with utter bewilderment. A job offer to run the Washington FBI office for counterterrorism had landed in your lap a while ago, and you'd taken a gander in submitting your name into the mix. In honesty, it was a drunken gander, and you had never expected to be considered, let alone chosen. But life had a funny way of surprising you then.
Though the start of the day was somewhat unexpected, you treated it as any other, getting breakfast, driving to work, and sitting down at your desk to sift through mountains of paperwork. You'd worked in the BAU for a while, and it only dawned on you with thoughts of leaving that the work grew to be tiresome, cases were exhausting, each taking its toll on your psyche. Yet the gratification of putting shitty ass people behind bars just couldn't be matched. Plus, you adored the team. They were your family; you settled down in Virginia, and, well, there was JJ. The pros seemed to outweigh the cons, but you hadn't had time to do more research, so assuming that staying at the BAU was the better option wasn't exactly foolproof.
"You're moving to Washington?!" A high-pitched squeal came from behind you, and you felt everyone turn to look at you as Garcia stormed towards your desk.
Soaring from your chair, you yanked the blonde by her arm and pulled her into the hallway, ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the team.
"First of all, stalking me… Not cool," you bitterly whispered before taking a deep breath and quelling your tone. In times like these, it was hard not to find the technical analyst's snooping infuriating, but at the end of the day, the truth was her checkups came from a place of worry, "Second, I haven't decided yet."
A flash of hurt crossed her features, "So you are considering it?"
There was no use playing coy, "Yes. It's a good job, Garcia and I'd be stupid not to."
"I just," she said, briefly pausing and giving you a watery smile, "I know. I'm happy for you. I just don't want to see you go."
It was safe to assume every little outburst this woman had was down to her rampant emotions and her fundamental problem with change. That's why it was hard to stay mad at her. She honestly didn't want to see you go and was most likely beating herself up for feeling so conflicted. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't known what that felt like.
"Come here," you open your arms to her, and she gladly accepts the gesture by falling into them, "I promise I'll tell you what I decide. Plus, I'd never let you miss the opportunity to throw me a killer goodbye party."
"You better not," she grumbled, pulling back to fix her hair, "We've got a case, by the way. Hotch is waiting in the briefing room."
"Well, rally the troops, and I'll see you there."
The briefing went as briefings do: information was handed out, and vivid imagery was shared and imprinted into your head forever. However, the presence of JJ next to you did help. She had a calming aura, and all you'd have to do when you felt as though the world was a shitty place - which it very much is - was turn to her and admire how her smile could be so warm, how her fleeting reassuring touches would pacify your sunken mood and how throughout her whole time at the BAU she'd remained so strong and still so loving, and you'd feel fine.
"You okay?" JJ asked as you walked to the car, "I heard Garcia this morning, and you seemed off during the briefing."
"I'm all good," you lied, giving her a smile when she opened the passenger door for you, "I have a lot on my mind, that's all." Not a lie.
She appeared sceptical, her eyes zoning in on you and creasing every so slightly at the sides. But she must have pushed it aside whilst closing the door and making her way around the car because the next thing she said was, "Well, I'd be happy to take your mind off it later."
You chuckled at that. It was no secret that JJ had a high libido, and hell, if you didn't love it, particularly in times when she'd ravish you all night and would still have the energy to go again the following morning. It made you feel the most wanted you'd ever felt during the entire duration of your hapless life. The passion bred in nights spent together was mind-numbing. It felt like you found your escape with each other - away from the team, your home lives and the constant strain of cases. Somehow, even the mention of your nights together, previous or upcoming, had a way of putting your mind at rest and eliciting a beaming smile to grace your lips.
"You know I'd never say no," you said, smirking, admiring how JJ mirrored your facial expression as she started the car and headed to the airstrip.
It was the truth; you'd never found a good enough reason to decline her offers, and the likelihood was you wouldn't. She had a way of twisting you around her fingers and never letting you forget it. Lunches, catch-ups, and, even once, a weekend trip away had been cancelled, and to think all it took was one phone and a particular husky voice at the other end of the line requesting your company.
So, true to word, after a long day, you snuck into JJ's hotel room and found a pleasant surprise. She lay sprawled out on the bed, stark naked, a tantalising smirk adorning her lips. One index stretched out then curled in a come hither motion, and you practically leapt.
"Someone's eager," JJ chuckled, cutting herself with a moan as your lips descended to her neck.
"Can you blame me?" You said, words slightly muffled, with you nipping and sucking at JJ's throat.
"Mmmm, I'm not complaining," she hums as she tilts her head back and grabs the neckline of your t-shirt, "Though I will complain about you still wearing clothes," she moved her hand down to the lining of your shirt and tugged, "Off."
Sitting up, you rid yourself of your shirt and bra, much to JJ's delight. No matter how many times she's seen you naked, she still looks at you like it's the very first time, and that in itself gets you wetter than the thought of all your exes combined.
By the time you were done revealing your upper body, hands were already grasping at the waistband of your trousers. The irony of her earlier comment staring you right in the face was too hard to ignore, so you let out a breathy laugh whilst saying, "Now look who's eager."
To that comment, JJ stopped her efforts to take off your trousers and instead used them to yank you forward, the tip of her nose brushing against your stomach. She darted her head down and harshly bit the side of your hip bone with a growl. You had to hold your bottom lip between your teeth to stop a moan from spilling out.
After her display of dominance, you knew two things: JJ wanted to be in control tonight, and by the look in her eyes, if you weren't naked soon, you'd face some heavy consequences.
"Okay, okay," you surrendered, helping her remove the last barriers between your naked bodies.
Instantly, she had you on your back. Stationed between your legs, she looked down at you with blown-out pupils, shamelessly taking in the sight of your bare body on display.
"Stunning," she whispered, sounding more like she was talking to herself than to you, but you seemed to blush regardless.
JJ left you no time to repay the compliment before her lips crashed down on yours, and her tongue demanded entrance, which you readily granted. She swirled the muscle around your mouth in a practised dance, stopping now and then to nibble at your lips, then going right back in. The way she kissed was addictive, and often, you thought you could come undone just from it alone. She'd perfected the art of being rough yet gentle, fast yet slow, passionate yet loving. It set your whole body alight, made your throat dry, and your knees weak. Even when laid down, you felt your body failing you, the mattress against your back a reassuring fail-safe.
Tender kisses fell lower, marking an invisible path to your collarbone, where they took their time dotting an array of scarlet blotches into your skin. JJ knelt back, smirking as her eyes darted over the canvas of bruising marks before she got back to work, lowering herself back down to the juncture of your breast. There, she became softer, pecking lightly from side to side till she was close enough to encapsulate a firm nipple into her mouth and lather it with her tongue. She knew your body so well - too well, you sometimes thought - you hadn't even needed to mourn the isolated attention to one breast before a warm hand cupped neglected flesh and began to knead.
"Oh god," you whimpered, pushing yourself further into JJ's mouth and hand.
You felt her lips curl around your breast, likely proud of herself for getting you worked up so fast despite knowing perfectly well she could do so with much less in her arsenal. Gloating put aside, JJ brought her free hand resting beside you to your thigh, squeezing the muscle - her thumb skimming the outskirts of where you almost certainly needed her. She continued to tease, and a protest lingered on your tongue, watching JJ brazenly settle on paying homage to your stomach, planting kisses high and low, but never as low as you wanted them. The pit in your stomach grew bigger, and the ache between your legs became more painful, yet the blonde paid no attention to your dejected whines.
Finally, when even the rutting of your hips did nothing, and the wriggling about only brought JJ back to your neck, you half huffed, half moaned, "Do I need to beg?"
Oh, so pleased with herself, JJ retorted, "I'd like that very much."
Choosing your release over your pride, you grabbed the sides of JJ's face, pulling her up so she was at eye level before confidently saying, "Please fuck me, JJ. I want to feel your fingers inside me. I want you to make me cum so hard that I can't walk tomorrow."
"Mmm," she hummed, her hands squeezing both your breast and thigh, "Well, since you asked so nicely."
The cursed thumb that had been endlessly teasing you moved, brushing lightly over your clit. As brief as the stimulation was, it was enough to cause you to jolt and grip the bedsheets. JJ retired her hand from your breast and clung to the pillow behind you, fingers running through the wet mess between your legs.
"I love how wet you get for me," she husked, placing a quick peck on your lips and ignoring your disapproving grunt to being denied more, "I want to watch you."
Just as she made her plans known, she thrust two fingers inside you and watched your mouth open in a gasp, biting her lip at the erotic sight. You burned, not only from her eager gaze but from the biting pleasure that ran its way along your spine and caused all your muscles to tense. The room faded to dark, your eyelids drooping, letting you hone in on the sea of sensations swimming through your body. Your chest rose and fell with every sharp intake of air you took, and it only became worse when JJ started to move, sliding her fingers out and then plunging them back in. She did this over and over until you felt as though you might burst. There were bulbs of sweat forming over your brow. Your lips were permanently parted. Your jaw shook with each breath. You were so close to the edge but not close enough. Then a thumb began caressing your clit, and you almost screamed in relief.
"Yes," you hissed, hips bucking up and down as JJ angled her fingers to run over ridged flesh, "I'm going to cum."
"Open your eyes," she tenderly whispered, kissing your temple, then leaning back again, "Look at me."
You did as instructed, watched JJ sway above you, saw the reverence in her eyes, and gazed into them as you felt the knot loop tighter and tighter in your stomach. She moved faster, using her hips to fuck into you harder. In a flash of white, your legs were shaking, your fingers tearing into the bed linen as your release poured out of you right onto JJ's fingers. All you could do was loop your arms around JJ and muffle your shaky cries into her neck, praying you wouldn't be heard.
The two of you stayed intertwined like that for a while, her fingers still inside you, moving slowly and steadily until you winced from being so sensitive, and she delicately withdrew. You had to blink to make out the room decor again: a wooden bedside table with a flickering lamp atop it, a sorry-looking armchair sitting idly in the corner and a dainty coffee table beside it.
"You okay?" JJ smiled above you, brushing strands of hair out of your face.
Returning her smile, you gave her a nod before pulling her down for a passionate kiss. You threaded your hands through her silky hair, scratching at her scalp and enjoying the content sighs she let out. There was a harmony to how you and JJ fucked. Where you'd often find in relationships one person getting off a significant amount of times more, a giver and receiver dynamic if you will, that was nothing like what you two had. Together, you walked the line of balance well, but at that moment, feeling her above you, tasting her tongue in your mouth, and remembering the way she looked at you whilst giving yet another brain-numbing orgasm, it made you want to give her more - give her everything.
You wanted to make sure that come the following days, she'd be so sore she wouldn't even consider letting Will touch her, let alone fuck her. Trying to eliminate the possessiveness and jealousy that lay dormant within you was useless, so in times like these, you used it for good. You could show JJ that no one else could do this for her. Her body was painted into your mind so clearly that you could be blinded and still tell it was her from touch alone. You could have your memory taken away, but with a pencil and paper, you'd draw the dips of her hips, the creases beside her eyes, and the jutting knuckles that run along her slender fingers. No one else knew her body like you; the need to remind her of it was dire.
Using her kiss befuddled mind to your advantage; it was easy to flip the tables and trap JJ beneath you. The move earned you a shocked yelp, though the second your lips found a dusky nipple, no complaints were heard. Only sultry moans warmed your ears.
Palms pushed the back of your head down whilst JJ arched to fit more of herself into your mouth, and you dutifully took her in. It didn't matter that you could hardly breathe, not when you could feel and hear how JJ's breath was catching in her throat and how her heart was hammering against her chest.
After giving the older woman's breast the much-needed attention they deserved, you sought your sights lower. Leaving a shimmering trail down JJ's taut stomach, you crawled back on the bed and positioned yourself comfortably between two muscled thighs. A sharp inhale from above, and hands fisting in your hair were sign enough for you to drive forward and deliver a long lick along JJ's slit, closing your eyes to enjoy the bitter flavour of her exploding over your tastebuds.
It wasn't long before you worked JJ up into a wiggling mess. It was painstakingly evident from the tireless efforts of the blonde's buckling hips that the lack of notice of her clit was becoming a problem. Taking pity, you sought to eradicate JJ's frustrations. With one final up swipe of your teasing tongue, you brought your lips to her needy clit and sucked. The gratification echoed around the hotel room as JJ slapped a palm over her mouth to keep quiet.
You kept going, alternating between sucking and licking, occasionally moving south to tease JJ's cunt with the stiffened end of your tongue, then returning to her clit.
"Don't stop," JJ breathily begged, "Don't you dare stop."
And you didn't, not for a second. You continued lathering JJ with unbridled pleasure, coaxing her body into a quivering mess until the muscles in her stomach were painfully tense and only then did you ease two fingers inside her. The pace you immediately set was vigorous, thrusting in and out of her so quickly her body was struggling to keep up. With her head flung back, JJ came with your name on her lips, breathily panting. Yet, still, you wanted more.
Sitting up, you waited for JJ to regulate her breathing as she held tight to your forearms and only then did you start moving your fingers again. Nestling your head in her neck, you moved faster, finding and hitting a spot deep inside JJ that had her digging her nails into your skin, marring you with crescent moons dotted in red. The pain only motivated you to keep going, fucking into her harder until she was all but screaming and sure to be heard. You didn't care. She was perfect like this: panting, out of control and solely focused on what you were doing to her.
Your arm began to protest; it ached and cramped, but you fought hard against it, using your body to drive in and out of JJ's exhausted pussy. Over and over, she spoke your name, hushed this time, as her awareness of where she was prevailed.
Sensing JJ's orgasm from the pulsing clenches around your fingers, you snuck your thumb over a tender clit and added another finger to your thrusts. The additional force sent her toppling over the edge, but you didn't stop even then. You continued to fuck her right through her orgasm, biting into the flesh of her neck to keep her crying out.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!' JJ cried out, "I-"
She never finished, a third orgasm rapidly washing over her, snapping her spine and leaving her motionless, half off the bed. Her jaw was trembling, and her eyes wedged closed, but the starting of a contented smile was tugging the side of her lips. When she slumped down on the mattress, she was boneless and limp, her chest heaving as she struggled to draw in steady breaths, "Fuck," she finally whispered, her eyes still closed and a tear falling down the side of her cheek, "Fuck."
Settling down next to her, resting on one elbow, you mindlessly traced patterns along her glistening stomach, smirking proudly to yourself. Aftercare had always been a big thing between the two of you, and after what you'd just done, she looked like she needed it. So you stayed that way for a while, laid down together, occasionally sharing innocent kisses and soft smiles until you wound up in each other's arms. JJ lay atop you, her leg becoming a blanket to your waist, her head and breath a chest warmer.
"When were you going to tell me," JJ asked, and you looked down to see her eyes already on you.
Moving strands of silky blonde hair behind JJ's ear, you give her a questioning look, "Tell you about what?"
The question seemed to infuriate her. She shuffled out of your embrace and leaned back against the headboard, giving you a blank stare. "You don't want to go," JJ proudly stated her opinion as fact, arms folded across her chest as a finger steadily taps away at her forearm, "You know you'll get bored sitting behind a desk so much."
Brushing off the fact she had a point and focussing on remaining civil but not coming off as a pushover, you held your ground, "It's a good opportunity, and I'm not not considering taking it," you were silently begging her to understand, your eyebrows knitted together and lip wedged between your teeth.
"Come on, you can't be serious," she humorlessly laughed. The audacity of her tone gave you half a mind to walk out. You didn't, though, because this had to happen at some point, be it now or in a few days.
"What's left for me here?" you asked, eyes trained on the blonde, your finger under her chin keeping her from looking away and trying to escape. If she wanted you to stay, so desperately as she seemed to, she owed you this, "Give me one good reason I should stay."
Her lips parted, her jaw moving up and down in small increments. It was like the words she wanted to say were there, but she was fighting to get them out. You gave her time, looking at her with expectant eyes, softening your gaze to encourage whatever was trapped in her bobbing throat, but nothing came. Then her mouth snapped shut as though someone had tugged on an invisible string sewn through pink velvety lips, permanently sealing them.
The silence became too loud. It sought to engulf you, swallow you up so that all you'd hear was the sound of your own broken heart beating so painfully loud it made your chest ache. Your arms felt limp as you slung them to your side and rolled on your back, staring at the ceiling. It felt cold and bare without the promise of another comforting embrace because somehow you knew there was an unspoken realisation that this was truly the end of something.
The stinging behind your eyes had made itself known fully, and you couldn't handle JJ seeing you like this. Straightening yourself out with a roll of your shoulder and a lengthy exhale, you stood up, threw on your clothes while ignoring the awkward atmosphere that circulated the room and made your way to the door. Turning back before you exited, you sneered, "I thought so," and slammed the door shut behind you.
To say the next day was awkward would be an understatement. If the team had noticed the tension between you and JJ, which they most likely had, they used their better judgment to ignore it and focus solely on the case. From the corner of your eye, you noticed their regular stares, but you knew it was their way of ensuring you were okay. Once you caught on, you offered small smiles and brief nods that told them all was well, and you were thankful that that was enough to ease their curiosities.
It wasn't till much later in the day, when you were packing up to head back to the hotel, did JJ acknowledge your existence, and you weren't having any of it. She approached you as you slung your bag over your shoulder and started walking out with Reid and Emily. Instead of doing the mature thing, which would have been to wait for JJ to catch up and deal with your suffocating predicament, you gave her the cold shoulder, ignoring her presence completely and walking out.
A faint sigh came from the room you'd just vacated, and you fought against your better judgment to head back to the hotel and put the whole day behind you. It was for the best; you needed time to think, and you still had a looming decision hanging over your head. It was a life-changing decision; you couldn't afford to cloud your mind with a frivolous affair.
With what comfort a shabby mattress could offer, you settled back, opened your laptop, looked at some apartment listings, checked over the job description a couple more times, and re-read the email, indeed confirming you had been offered the job if you wished to take it. Despite your best efforts, the god-forsaken argument continued to play in your head: JJ's dejected look when she was unable to voice her true feelings, the razor-sharp tone she used to admonish you and most of all, her inability to give you the one thing you needed that would have turned the tables and made your decision for you.
A knock at your door pulled you from said incessant thoughts. You'd have been grateful for the distraction had you not sensed who would likely be your 'knight in shining armour'. Rising and looking through the peephole confirmed your suspicions, and an involuntary groan slipped free.
"Real mature," JJ quipped. Taking a deep breath and then staring pleadingly into the peephole where she knew you were standing, she tried again, "Sorry. Please, can we talk?"
The door fractionally opened, enough for you to slip your head out and huff, "I'm exhausted, and I don't think I have the energy to deal with this now."
"I'll give you one," she muttered under her breath.
"Give me what?" You huff.
Opening the door to let her in, already fed up with where this conversation was inevitably headed - which was most likely an argument - you move over to lean against the outdated armchair.
JJ watched your movements as she shut the door and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, "A reason," she began, looking down at her left hand. You curiously followed her gaze. There on her finger sat an elegant diamond ring, glinting in the lamplight. It was a sickly sight, and the vexing thing was it never used to be. Your stomach lurched, forcing you to avert your gaze to keep yourself from spewing your dinner onto the atrocious carpet. Honestly, it was a mystery that the team wasn't investigating who committed this interior design crime.
"I don't want you to go. I want you to stay," she took long strides towards you, and you shot your head up to see, in the blink of an eye, JJ was standing tall right above you. Her fingers fidgeted with her engagement ring before she slipped it off and let it fall to the floor. The boldness of the move left you momentarily frozen until you were pulled to your feet by your waist and felt a pair of lips ghosting over yours, "And if you'll have me, I want you."
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The kids aren’t alright
Summary: Ida wakes up and takes stock
October 1943
Requested? ✅ 18+ mature (thematic material)
Warnings: a lot of bodily injuries mentioned, way too much use of vomiting sorry, mentions of an intentional dog bite, past references to sexual abuse, very brief mention of an object being used to rape someone…if you read that sentence? it’s about that bad, I tried to keep it vague
When Ida woke for the first time, well and truly and fully, it was to the feeling of muggy warmth and a comforting snugness pressing to her chest. Her body ached but only in the way that suggested that moving would make it far worse, and so she tried to remain still, clock her surroundings, its smells and noises and the likely extent of her injuries by pain alone. Her cheek hurt the worst, a raw sort of agony that increased with each breath until she switched to inhaling through her mouth to make it stop, her right rib smarted in the way of an open cut, and her mind scrambled to supply a cause for this, quicker than it had for her cheek. Most sluggishly it tried to alert her to the all encompassing throb of her pelvis, a pain too intense and easily provoked by thought alone that she summarily shoved it down for the time being.
She would try to open her eyes, and then move off her cheek, and if that was possible, only then perhaps could she shift her hips. Her lower belly felt as if filled with glass shards, and if she were to jostle them, they might begin slitting her open anew. Take a peak Ida, she told herself, see where you are, see who is near.
With that plan of action barely in place, Ida willed an eyelid open.
Foggy sunlight filtered in, wether the window pane was filthy or the weather overcast she could not discern, but there was a blurry expanse of lumber before her and as things began to slot in place she recognized the camp. Not the horrid one, no, the stalag, the prisoner of war camp -she had made it, they had all made it. Almost all, that poor corporal and her warm brains hadn’t. The nurse either. Forsyth either.
There were bunks and lumber and a fuzzy stack of dishes and someone moving in a chair at a hulking object that was likely a table.
She held her breath, hoping her vision might clear if the smarting of her cheek would stop, and in response the arms that seemed to be bracing her together squeezed all the tighter. She let out a grunt of pain at it and moved her frozen hand to tap at the large paw interlaced over her sternum.
She really shouldn't be able to guess its owner so accurately considering the professional nature of the relationship they shared, yet she could: "I see you decided to join us, Egan." she rasped, throat feeling made of sandpaper.
The iron tight grip spasmed in response before loosening. "Oh hell Ida,” Bucky sighed heavily behind her, “scared me, ya stopped breathin’, -thought you were dead there for a minute."
"So you already took over my bunk?" she was passibly amused by his presumption, it was too relieving that he was even alive.
Whoever was at the table rose and came nearer.
"No,” Bucky countered firmly, “I didn't want them to find you cold and take your body away."
That was touching. And like him. She must’ve been in poor shape. "Bucky, you've got the heart of a child."
The figure from the table stooped over her and the back of a gentle hand she’d know anywhere, ran along her hairline, “Hey.” her brother greeted softly and Ida felt a sudden burn to her eyes at the relief of seeing his cherished face and feeling his doting touch. She knew she had met him, reunited with him here, but it was such a blur and she had no idea how long she’d been out for. It hit her now, Johnny and Bucky had her. She was alright, and so were they.
“Jack.” she croaked to him, trying to kiss his knuckles in sheer gratitude to their creator for allowing them both a little longer together. “Johnny you- you’re ok? And you’ve got legs.” she reaffirmed to herself and he laughed in agreement, watery and happy.
“Yeah,” he got to his knees by her bunk so they might be at eye level, his grin the homiest thing she’d ever seen, “all in one piece. God, it’s good to see you awake, Ida. You ok? Want some water?”
She could manage a nod but was loathe to let go of him, Johnny only managed to laughingly extract himself after he’d kissed her forehead twice over and “-jug is just on the table, I’m not going far-“
“Is everyone alright?” she asked of them both as he went to fetch it, tracing over the broken skin of Egan’s knuckles, the one part of him she could see without shifting. She wondered how he’d gotten here, how long after. “Everyone? My girls are -are my girls ok?”
“All settled, all fine.” Johnny assured her as he kneeled back down, tin cup filled with the brackish camp water they’d taken to filtering through an undershirt. It was the best they had to offer. “Cleven’s got all sorts of measures in place, there’s been no trouble.”
“How long?” She sighed in relief, trying to find the strength to lift her head and take a sip. “How long have I been out?” Her girls had needed her and she’d crashed on them, they’d asked for bunks and remedies and they’d barely managed a shower before she’d abandoned them for her bed.
“Almost two weeks, Eye Eye.” Johnny whispered as if that blunted the news, Ida startled predictably and Bucky Egan made a soothing sound like she were a pet to be calmed. “You need to drink.” Johnny observed practically in reference to the timeframe and she supposed he was right and let him help tilt her jaw and bring the rim to her lips, Bucky’s hand came up from somewhere in back to prop up her heavy head.
As thirsty as she was, the bitter tang of metallic water was not at all what she had dreamed of when it first sloshed against her lips. She forced gulp after gulp of it down, grateful for it and all too reminiscent of recent times without, but it was revolting. No sooner had she pulled away to gain some upper hand on the rising nausea than she felt the surging of bile instead, faster than she could process, much less tamp down.
Something in her face must’ve shown as her observant brother tumbled backward on the floor with a flailing hand that grasped for any receptacle available, right as she wheezed out a warning “bucket!”
Her face felt horrible, and her stomach hated the rough and involuntary movements that puking required. Ida groaned weakly between bouts but it kept coming -the urge that is, after the water came up there was nothing else besides bile. Johnny had managed to grab something, although Ida was too preoccupied vomiting and keening in agony to notice what. She puked in the general direction of his lap and hoped for the best, the grounding feeling of his hand cupping her battered cheek the only thing tethering her in the pain.
For a moment Ida had the displaced thought that her brother was helping hold back her hair. But the feel of his fingertips against the lacerations on her tender scalp reminded her she hadn’t any. And that memory brought another wave of revulsion and she wretched all the harder. She was in this state, in this much plain, out cold for two weeks because of what those men had done to her. Oh god, did everyone know what they had done to her—
“Breathe, you’ve got to breathe.” Egan was gripping her chest again and it made it worse except now she could feel herself shaking and that brief, spiraling moment of numbness began to dissipate and she almost mourned it as the pain returned and she sobbed into her next retch. “That’s it, that’s it, shitty water is all, Johnny’s gonna get you some sparkling, aren’t ya Johnny? Yeah, yeah breathe Ida, breathe.”
She had to stop sobbing. It was pathetic at this point, she was perfectly safe now and all that harmed her was a little brackish water and a sour stomach. She breathed as told and blinked the water out of her eyes. “Johnny, that's a damn plate.” she scolded, now noticing what he’d grabbed, “I said a bucket.”
Johnny smiled back ruefully, “Wasn't one close.”
“Now you've got -I’ve made a mess of you,” she cried, contrite herself, “that’s disgusting.”
Johnny shrugged and set the full plate aside, brave face in place despite the gnarly nature of the incident. “Seen worse.”
Ida just stared at his lap and the odd pattern of criss cross stitches on his trouser seams and the rusty stains all along them. What had they done- “Johnny your pants-“ she didn’t even notice the way she tried to rise in her agitation until Bucky’s firm hand came again from the back like the spectral arm of God and pushed her down once again. “What did they do to you?” she was back to numb at the horror of it and this time she didn’t like it.
John Brady stared at her and then back to his lap before jerking with horrified realization, “No, no these -these are yours.” he rushed, utterly unsure that was actually a comfort, wishing in fact that they were his and he’d have borne their significance for her, “I gave you mine while we mended yours. Now they’ve got vomit on ‘em too.” he tried to grin, to make the joke they were his work pants now, best used for the grittier duties in camp, an eyesore no matter what and rather talked of. He preferred to be the one wearing them, the one talked of instead of her, it was all untrue speculation in that case and the guards’ taunts were empty and without real history while he wore them. “These are yours.”
“You two lanky lil shits.” Bucky mumbled to break the tension. “Not an ounce of butter fat on either of you.”
“Are you done puking?” Johnny asked her conversationally.
“I think.” she muttered.
“Ok, put your head back down. Can’t keep holding your cheek.”
“Don’t have to,” she protested even as she lay back down, face on fire by the lack of incline, “the hell is wrong with it?” she groaned.
“The doc says your cheekbone’s broken.” Egan supplied.
A flash of a table rising up too fast and her cheek slammed down against it, of a hand in her hair and a man, one of many strong and large men, pressing down on her head over and over, the pressure on her face too strong and finally making way with a sickening give just like other places had given way when they— Ida felt like retching again but for Johnny’s sake she was glad nothing more came up, although his hand was back to holding her cheek together.
“The recommendation was not to exert the facial muscles.” Johnny snarked.
Ida willed her mind away, “Noted.” and began to wonder at how this camp worked, “What sorta doctor?” it seemed odd no one had hauled her off for two whole weeks, not to a grave and not to surgery. Maybe not that odd, Egan had been in her bunk. And Cleven would have never let them. But she’d have never allowed so many things and yet -they happened all the same.
“There’s that med student pilot from the 418th,” Egan told her, “everyone calls him doc around here since we haven’t got any medics. Shitty oversight in the air, fatal on the ground. It’s him or camp doctor, and we didn’t want him gettin’ curious over you.”
“Major Cleven wouldn’t let them take you.” Johnny told her what she already suspected and Ida felt like smiling despite the way it hurt her cheek.
“Everyone’s really alright?” she asked once more.
“Yeah, everyone’s fine.” her bother swore, “Except for you, you’re our biggest worry.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Sure.”
“Don’t use that tone with me.”
“Then don’t lie.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Alright, but you’re not currently fine.”
“You and your distinctions.”
“You and the pants you’ve worn for two weeks.”
Ida gaped, knowing and loving his sharp tongue but having missed it all the same, “Well that’s -that’s low, Jack.”
“I’ll get Smith in.” he decided after sharing a look with Bucky over her shoulder, she wished she could see Egan’s face, something made her suspect foul play beyond boredom for him to be in her bunk. “You haven’t stopped -bleeding.” he winced, wether in sympathy or in discomfort over the topic, she could only guess it was both.
“Well get me up, sit me up.” she asked first, her curiosity regarding her own damage growing and she didn’t need dear Tallulah to see her freshly puked and still lying like a corpse. She could sit up if she was going to remain conscious. “It’ll make the cheek feel better.” She cajoled her brother in the most effective manner -logic- and so he assisted her to sit up against the slats.
“Bucket.” she warned again because her vision was spotting and her stomach rose at the painful change in position but it felt good to be up, and Johnny handed her an actual bucket to dry heave over. The irony was not lost on her.
When the feeling passed she found she was looking down at Egan, that he hadn’t moved with her and he still lay on his side, garish green bruise around his eye and a grimacing smile stretching that still pristine mustache. Well, it needed some trimming at the corners, her fingers itched to straighten them. “Ribs are a little cracked.” he offered in explanation before she could ask.
“Yeah he’s not supposed to move much.” Her Johnny expounded and Ida didn’t doubt this was a source of much argument between them, she could tell by the familiar, bitchy tone and the look Johnny gave his superior, one just short of wry enough to get him court martialed. Ida realized with sudden sobriety that she would be stuck in close proximity with this duo for the foreseeable future.
Mother Mary give her grace.
“Where do you pee?” she asked, it was a decent segue and it was also a pressing issue, mounting over even the horrible ache down there.
“Uh,” Johnny floundered for a minute, “pretty loose around here but -there are latrines.” Ida could picture the sheer amount of pissing against stumps and combines that likely occurred here instead, “You’re not walking there, not today. We’ve got buckets, girls use those mainly.”
Ida stared at the bucket clutched in her arms, still there in case of another upset. Right, alright. Buckets.
“Brady, get Smith.” Egan directed helpfully and her brother roused himself and went out into the hall.
Ida waited until the sound of his footfalls faded thoroughly before bringing her hand down to rest on Bucky’s shining forehead, he felt feverish, or maybe it was only oily. “How is he?” she asked. “Really, Bucky, how is he handling it all?”
“He’s a champ.” Bucky replied levelly, before giving her a gentle look, “A champ who’s cried a few times. I’ve been giving him too much trouble to ask him what he thinks about having a battered sister, if that’s what you mean. But he’s ok, you know him. He’s okey.”
“Alright.” she muttered, staring down at her lap, noticing the stains she’d made on his trousers. Poor Jack, she didn’t know how she could bear it if it were the other way around.
Bucky waited a beat before adding softly, “He asked me what to tell your parents.”
That startled her, the idea of letters, of news, of more than anyone here knowing, “What did you-?”
“I told him to tell them you’re alive.” he answered and she took a great breath, “And that you two were together. The facts of the matter.”
Well that was another kindness. “Thanks.” she managed.
“Hey, you just worry about gettin’ better.” He charged her, hand nudging gently under her chin, mindful of the bruises.
She gave him a grin despite her cheek protesting, “Back at ya, Egan.”
“Race ya?” he suggested.
“Race to what?”
“To the latrines. Whoever can get fit fastest wins. I’m sick to fuckin’ death of pissing in a can he wants to hold like I’m past ninety and should be put out to pasture -now you’re awake it’s gonna be even funner.”
Ida thought about asking if he’d really been relieving himself in bed beside her, to ask who’d been cleaning her in the meantime, but some familiarity was best left mysterious and the stomping sounds of approaching persons made her pause.
“Great, he brought a crowd.” Bucky muttered without heat and sure enough, Smith came skidding in like Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb, and behind her Johnny, Cleven and Graham.
“Ta-daa.” Ida vocalized weakly, feeling mildly possessed by the spirit of Kendeigh to make a drama of it all -it was only that they looked so ridiculously hopeful and small crowding the doorway like that.
Gale slapped the doorframe and buried his face in the crook of his arm, something like a rough laugh coming out, “I’ll be damned.”
“Well Graham, you’ve seen her breathing, go, come on go, we asked for Smith.” Bucky good naturedly snapped his fingers dismissively.
“Good to see you Graham.” Ida called to her poor Co-Pilot who was fast not to loiter.
Tallulah Smith gently crept up to her bunk and sank to her knees beside her, sweet face still a little mottled but the old pearl white smile in place. Missing a tooth. A jolt of heartache ran through her— “Ida.”
“Hey old thing.” Ida smiled back, or tried.
“God it’s good to see -to see you.” Smith settled for before dropping her face to kiss Ida’s unwashed hands. Poor kid, Ida was sure Cleven was looking after her but he didn’t know the half of it. All these weeks she was needed and Ida had failed her.
“Hey, hey you guys get me up, I’m getting cramp.” Bucky hollered to Brady and Buck.
“You’re not supposed to move Bucky-“
“Johnny -I’m not going on a goddamn journey. I just wanna walk in the hall and piss on the doorframe like everyone else. C’mon get me up.”
Ida and Smith crouched further into the bed to allow Egan to lumber over them with the help of their friends, a painful, grunting business that suggested his leg was busted along with his ribs. He was leaving to give the girls privacy, Ida knew it, and perhaps her brother had picked up on it as he stopped protesting and shouldered his weight uncomplaining.
“See you dolls later.” he saluted as they dragged him out.
It was bizarre to have the room to themselves when the door shut. The door had a window, and that gave Ida the creeps but it couldn’t be helped.
“They aren’t going out, they’ll stand watch.” Smith whispered assuringly as if she could read Ida’s mind. “We’re all in this combine with just one’s from the 100th. Cleven insisted. I don’t know how he gets half of what he gets done but he’s been so good to us.”
Ida stared at her hands intertwined with Lu’s and nodded gently, never doubting that would be the case. She just worried for him, she hoped it meant their guards were fair, or at least the commandant. But she recalled Cleven saying he’d stayed clear of the fellow, kept his head down, not sought attention -until the girls came, now he no doubt made himself familiar. It made her pulse pound in worry for him. She hoped the commander was fair, that was the whole point of getting to a stalag.
“And you?” Ida asked, knowing that of everyone, Smith was perhaps the only one who’d like to be asked.
She watched the girl perk up, brave cheerfulness fluttering across her features, no less genuine for all that it was forced, “I’m ok. It’s easier here but I can’t sleep much, and I’m so scared it’s going to happen again. There’s dogs everywhere.”
Ida winced at that. “Cleven won’t let that happen.” she insisted gently, “You stick with who he puts you with and if they don’t stick with you then you tell him, he’ll get someone else. Really Smith, speak up.”
“Ok.” she muttered, “It’s been Murph or Crank so far, they’re never away.”
“Good.”
“It’s just-“ Smith’s deep brown eyes grew watery and Ida braced, “-what can they do? If the Germans really wanna? What can they actually do about it? I don’t think -oh Ida I don’t think I could take it, the way they did it in front of you -I couldnt take it, not in front of our boys. I’d wanna die this time, I would. I’d wanna die.”
It hurt, the heavy pressure of Smith’s face buried in Ida’s wounded belly, but the poor girl was suddenly sobbing and Ida impulsively ran her fingers through oily black strands, humming gently and ineffectively. What was there to say about that? What could she say to that? “Everyone here would die before watching that, Lu.” was all she could come up with, but it was true as truth could be. “And they can’t shoot up a whole stalag, they can’t,” she went on, it was soothing to hear herself spout such ephimerally comforting bulshit, “so, if they tried, that’s a dead end. Not gonna happen ever again, Smith, it won’t. We won’t let it.”
Smith turned her head, looking not a day older than her eighteen years and smiled back, soft and sad, “Ok.” she accepted, and Ida knew it was more for her benefit than real belief, “I just worry someone is gonna still have to-“ she quieted down in frustration with herself, “-sorry I’m so glum.”
Ida squeezed her hands strongly, “No, no, you’re right. It’s very uneasy, and it will be for as long as we’re on this side of our lines. What were you saying?”
Smith bit her lip thoughtfully before quietly confessing, “I worry someone else may still have to. The guards aren’t as bad but they seem -I’m paranoid, I know. But I also -oh Ida, I shouldn’t say. He said I shouldn’t say but-“ she was back near to crying.
“Telling your senior officer is like telling a priest.” Ida reasoned softly, teasingly, “There is no harm and there is no record.”
“I’m Baptist.” Smith laughed.
“Unburden yourself, my child.” Ida insisted, mouth wry with sad humor. “That’s an order, Lu.”
“It’s Major Cleven.” Smith got right to it, “I’m afraid someone hurt him. The way they hurt us. Before we got here. And I’m worried if that person is here, I’m worried that- I’m worried that it’ll be someone, if not me again, it’ll be someone else.”
“You’re not paranoid.” Ida muttured, cold dread seeping in along with fury, she counted to five before asking as casually as she was capable, “When he told you not to tell, what -what all did he say?”
“Not much, really,” Tallulah admitted with frustration, “it’s just he came to check on me, first night in and we were alone in the hall and I told him a little, since he asked, he’s always so kind and he was kind then. But he told me he understood, and then right away it was like he regretted it. Saying that, you know? And I asked him, if they’d hurt him like that and -h-he was so shaken by it, and he told me I shouldn’t ever talk like that. He didn’t said no, he just kept saying I couldn’t say that. About him.”
Ida felt her stomach plummet and she clutched at the bucket as if there was anything left to puke up.
“Ida I’m sorry- I should've waited.” Tallulah fretted at her agitation.
“No!” Ida’s voice came stronger than even she expected, “No you’re right to tell me. I’m his officer too, you know. You’re right to tell me.” she repeated before trying to straighten herself, make Smith look her in the eyes, “And now, Lieutenant, I need you to let this go, alright? Really, you’ve done the right thing now, give it over, let it go. He might not have meant that, might’ve meant anything, really. Try not to dwell on it. Any of it, if you can.”
Smith rubbed her hand beneath her nose gruffly while murmuring a “yessir.” She was back to smiling when the hand descended. “Now, what can I help with?” she asked, cheered at the chance of lending aid.
“I need to pee.”
“Oh gosh, sorry-“ Smith laughed at herself and her poor timing for a confession.
“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Ida joined in, “This is going to hurt like hell, I do believe.”
Smith winced in sympathy, “Yeah, still hurts for me.”
“No, truly?” Ida mourned through gritted teeth, depending on Smith’s arms to scootch to the edge of the threadbare mattress.
“Yeah. A little better after a week but not, it’s just -it’s stayed since. You’re still bleeding, though.”
Ida stared down at her bloodied crotch. “Yes.” she hissed, “I’d like to -take a look. Any mirror: in here?”
“No sir. Sorry.”
“Anyone else bleeding like this?”
“No one besides Kendeigh, got her period.” Smiths cheeks turned pink at the mention of normality.
“Ah, small mercies.”
“Yes. Try telling her that, sir.”
“Have you gotten yours, Lu?”
“No sir.” Pinker still under that dusky brown.
“Mm.”
“I could check?”
“What?”
“I could be your mirror.” Smith clarified, sheepishly as she got Ida up, arm around her neck, her officer about crumpling at the pain of standing.
Ida grimaced again at the mere notion. “Bit above your pay grade.”
“I’m a lieutenant.” Smith shook her head proudly before adding, “Besides -nothing I haven’t seen on the farm.”
“Oh thanks a lot.”
“I didn’t mean-“
“Joking, Smith, I’m joking.”
“Oh. Ha.”
“I’d not be so concerned,” Ida went on, shuffling towards the bucket in the corner of the room where it sat between two bunks, “if I didn’t suspect a little -tearing.” she muttered, humiliation burning her cheek and adding to the throb. “There was a, uh-“ god, she shouldn’t tell a subordinate this but they hadn’t any mirrors, “there was a knife. And, I-i- think they, it wasn’t the blade but the handle and it -still it felt like…Well, everything got even worse after that.”
“Oh Ida.” Smith whimpered in compassion.
“Oh stop it, you of all people don’t need to feel bad for me.” Ida squeezed her shoulder, the one supporting her weight. “It’s just I really don’t know what to expect. What’s normal. Yes? To bleed is normal, we always hear that but. How long, how much, you know? My brother seems to think it’s too much. How would he know?” she snickered briefly before ceasing at the sight of Smith’s solemn face. Ida was reminded of when she’d first met her as a little recruit, keen eyed and perceptive in training, Tallulah Smith had been so freshly out of the nest she’d delightedly blown up her standard issued rubbers and tossed them around their hut, charmed by the army’s thoughtfulness to provide balloons along with toothbrushes. Not even the worst of the cads had said a thing to dissuade her and Benny DeMarco had followed suit, even going so far as to lie that he’d been additionally given bubbles since he was more senior.
When the day came that Bucky had pinned Smith her single bar on her jacket, he handed her a tube of bubbles, too.
Five weeks before it all went to hell.
Now Smith wore a shy little look, one Ida remembered well from when she’d had to break it to the girl what the damn balloons were really for. Today, if it were anyone else, Ida would have ignored that look.
“What do you want to ask?” She called her out.
“Can I?”
“Yes.”
Smith helped her fumble with her belt buckle, trousers loose and low on her waist, not even Johnny’s trim figure a match for the weight Ida had lost in her convalescence. “Was this-“ Ida could only see Smith’s eyebrows and the beautiful flat bridge of her proud nose, “-was this your first, too?”
Ida had never once felt shame, inadequacy, anything other than a natural state over her own purity. It was a conscious decision and a matter of habit, she might have disposed of her virginity had she wished but she never had, never saw fit, never felt the lack of knowing. There were handsome men, and if they were worth the loss of her convictions, her standing and self respect, she might have enjoyed hopping on them as her baser first instincts suggested. As is, she had not, and life had felt perfectly fine and full without that knowledge. One day, she had told herself, maybe one day there’d be someone right and worthy and fitting. Suddenly it felt so very embarrassing to have known nothing more than this, to pretend authority and yet not even know this intimate response of her own body. She could still hear the disbelieving glee of the guards at the same realization.
A female colonel. Who was a virgin. What a lark.
Yet if it served to comfort Smith? Provide some solidarity not even Maureen’s brazen bravery could supply? Ida meant to give it her. “Yes, my first. I’ve never done anything of the sort before.” it served to be plain, to be thorough.
She was rewarded with the lifting of Lu’s face, mournful shyness fading into relief before compassion flickered again. “How do you want me to look?”
Ida ended up propping a foot up on an adjacent bunk, slacks around her ankles, face buried in her elbow as Smith crouched with veterinary efficiency and peeled her apart down there. Ida stifled an involuntary whimper into her fist, not so much from pain as the jolting feeling of that area being touched again.
“I honestly can’t tell much.” Smith sighed, standing up again and it took Ida a good long minute to regain enough composure to pull her face out of her elbow and meet her eyes. Smith wasn’t looking at her anyway, “It’s bloody. But not a lot. I can’t tell about tearing, not on the outside at least.”
“Alright.”
“Here, let me help you squat.” Smith was at the ready with strong arms for Ida to squat over the bucket and do her business, as best she could between sobs at the pain of urinating with some much adjacent damage.
“Are Kendeigh’s hands alright?” Ida thought to ask once Smith had helped pull her up. Piss and blood swirled at the bottom of the metal pail, it turned Ida’s stomach, a foreign queasiness having seemingly settled over her.
“I had to set a few fingers,” Smith replied, “Hammy helped me. But the swelling is going down.”
“Good.” Ida muttured, redoing her belt with Lu’s help, “Now,” she stalled the girl, “how’s the bite mark?”
Smith’s bronze face flushed darker. No doubt she hoped Ida had forgotten, no such luck -Ida expected to replay that scene a million times in her nightmares for the rest of her life.
“Your brother got us penicillin.” Lu rushed to assure her.
“Did he?”
“Yes!”
“How nice. Shots?”
“Yes.” Smith smiled brilliantly, “The boys they’ve -they’ve been so wonderful.”
“Excellent.” Ida agreed.
“Major Cleven said we could-“ Smith’s eyes fluttered aside, “-could get sick from the guards. I didn’t know but -he said the shots would help.”
Ida clasped her arm soothingly, squeezing it until the girl’s eyes came back to life, “He’s right. Good to take precautions. What've they said about the bite?
No answer came. Of course the girl hadn’t even told them. Ida could curse herself for falling asleep so long on the job.
“How’s the bite, Lu?” she insisted on being answered.
Smith sighed, defeated, “It’s -a little festered.”
“How much is a little?” Ida quirked a brow. “C’mon, show me.”
Lu begrudgingly undid her buttons and pulled the placard aside, showing the deep imprint of a canine bite to her breast. Partly healed but angry and hot to touch, Ida suspected it strongly. At least it didn’t smell. “Have you been seen for this?” she asked once more.
Smith shook her head. “They say the doctor is not good.”
“How’d Jack get penicillin then?”
“Well -I don’t know. But he told me never to go.”
Ida resigned herself to feeling perpetually on the verge of emptying her guts in this place. “You either need more or some sulfer, I’d say, but then, I’m no doctor.”
“The boys have been wonderful!” Lu reaffirmed as if that changed anything while refastening her shirt. Ida shuffled back to the bed and sat herself down too fast, wanting to let rip a scream at the pain. “Gale looks after us and Jack gets the medicines and Bucky has been so watchful even from bed and Crank and Murph -I told you how they’ve been so good to me.”
Ida summoned a smile for the girl. The things she was concerned about were an officer's concerns, it was right for Smith to be soothed by stuff like this, it was right she be taken good care of. Whatever it cost the men, whatever it cost her brother. She forced her smile to stay in place. “Good.” Ida confirmed assuringly, “I’m glad to hear it. As they should be. You know that, don’t you? They should be good to you, and it’s not too much to expect that they should.” she let that sink in a minute before adding her point, “Some men aren't, and that’s why we're here in the first place. -And, personally, I like to think about how many of those scumbags we’ve turned to crisps, you and I. Job well done, mm?”
Smith grinned back, “Yes sir, job well done.”
“Mm, alright, now you go get Gale Cleven for me.”
“Sir.” Lu seemed torn, half alarmed.
“I’m not going to broach that topic, I need medicines.” Ida gave her a warning look, too much questioning on her sick bed and she’d turn into nothing more impressive than a half starved woman with no rank.
“Yes sir. I’ll get him sir.”
“And when you’ve fetched him,” Ida went on, “Go make certain Bucky is off his ribs. No baseball, no big movements, not even to retell a story. Got it?”
“I got it.”
“Alright, off you go. And Smith,” she added when the girl was near the door, “thank you, for the care. And speak up, alright? When you need something, speak up.”
Smith ducked her head sheepishly, nodding in obedience, “Sir.”
It would seem Ida needed a word with Gale Cleven regarding tough little lieutenants with a tendency for sepsis.
A solitary set of footsteps broke the eerie silence left after Smith's departure. Ida took stock of the room as best she could, who seemed to be bunking with them, what clutter was on the shelves, that the dishes were indeed stacked as she imagined on waking. She heard the rap of his knuckles on the door frame before the lanky line of him sauntered in, hand on the overhead plank, just looking at her pleased and a little mischievous. Gosh he was a sight for sore eyes and a heart aching one all at once. Where he’d once been golden and blooming, he was as gray as his shirt. How would they fare in winter if they started autumn so sallow?
“Major Gale Cleven, reporting for duty.” he teased, somber gray eyes lit up boyishly like they did when he wanted to be taken at the jokes’ value.
Ida grinned back at him as best she could with her broken cheek, “Bucky not follow you?”
“Nah,” Cleven came in, picking a chair up by its slatted back and bringing it to her bedside, straddled it, “he heard I was called for. He’s plagued you enough.” Nothing dimmed that fond smile despite the exasperated words.
“Cannot believe he took over my bunk.” Ida observed.
Gale’s smile fell. “Really didn’t know if you were gonna make it, Ida.” he insisted gently, firmly. “Are ya now?”
Ida wanted to chuckle, feeling more horrible than she knew she could but after all this time she wasn’t going to die on him now. Not now she knew how needed she was. Remained needed. How much he’d endured, possibly, she had to remember it was only possible. “I’m sticking around.” she affirmed, and his smile came back, dimmer but still there. “And you?” she asked, not expecting the truth but she had to try.
The upbeat grin that painted his face was worthy of an Oscar. “Fine. Much better to see you alive, John too. Both of you been out for ages.”
“Sorry about that.” she feared more and more what burdens he had to bear alone, and what precedent that set for the remainder of their time here. Once Gale Cleven had shouldered a responsibility, he wasn’t one to delegate, even if overtaxed. “How is the commandant? Smith has told me what you’ve achieved.”
Cleven’s face wore an expression of pleasant surprise as if he were relaying pleasant findings for the first time, “Most decent German I’ve met.” His tone held such genuine relief that Ida had to believe him. “Supplies are scarce. They've shot enough of us down in short enough order it’s all a bit much for the Red Cross.” he let that dismal statistic hang for a brief moment before rallying, “But he’s fair, shares my low opinion of his subordinates. No real incidents but, they leer and they’re harsh. No girls can go out alone, I’ve laid the order down. Been no harm.”
Ida observed him, familiar chubby cheeked crinkling with what seemed genuine pleasantness, and she had gotten rather genius at deciphering that boyish face after years of training and laconic friendship. “What does he want in return?” she asked.
“Order.” Gale had an answer right away, “He’s got a massive thing going here, he wants order and he wants no complaints about females. So, I want the girls accompanied -he wants them accompanied. It works.”
Maybe there was honor among villains after all. “Good. How’s Maureen?”
Gale bit his lip before shrugging, “Alright, settling in, getting everyone else settled. We got shots for everyone and she’s had us cleaning the place, fussing about wintertime and how all the water to mop will freeze up then. Hands aren’t back fully.” he paused for a brief moment before glancing up, shyly, “You got any explanation for those?”
No more than he had given for his cuts. “She’s told you. As much as she’s told me. I don’t think anyone hasn’t got a story. Or ten.”
“Bucky’s having trouble with that.” It was a comment, not a warning or a complaint.
She might’ve guessed. “And my brother? He proving of any use?”
Gale’s pale skin seemed to color at that and his eyes skittered to the side, briefly, before he recalled himself, “He’s a damn bulldog with a task. Been -been real essential.”
“With the doctor I hear.” Ida ventured, “Smith told me.” and Gale nodded in understanding, “She also told me she’d been warned never to go herself. Which brings up a few issues.”
“Colonel?” Gale frowned at her like something she said was puzzling.
“I’ve got girls who need to see a doctor. Should be in the infirmary -hell I oughta be.”
Cleven just shook his head, “They tolerate the girls here, so long as you’re not anything more than a number. Ida, we can’t attract attention that way. We got shots, Johnny’ll get more. He’ll get -Anything.”
“And how’s Johnny gonna get ‘anything’ for me, mm?”
Cleven didn’t have an answer for that, he just looked terribly tired. “Tell us, we’ll get it but I can’t condone lettin’ a woman go there.”
Ida tried to settle her stomach, a laundry list of worries a mile long had begun to arrange themselves in her mind and by the size of Cleven’s eyebags, he carried them too. She had to prioritize, if only she wasn’t so very tired and practically an invalid. “Then I need your promise to be tenacious in the care of someone who ought’ve been in hospital weeks ago.”
He cocked his head to the side, alarm at the unknown flitting across his face, he looked her up and down as if anticipating she would name herself.
“Smith has what looks like a raging infection.” Ida stated.
Well that got him startled, confused and a little irate. His blue eyes widened, “Looks like.” he repeated. “-where? From what?”
“And she’s not told a soul.” Ida observed with an eyebrow that only slightly accused, it was lethal enough on Gale’s frail morale, “As she’s a stubborn thing and also -shy.”
Gale knew Lu to be both. He had taken pains to ask after her the night she came in with that express suspicion in mind. “I asked her.” He swore.
“She says she asked you the same.” Ida bounced the hypothetical tennis ball right back, quite casually she thought, and Gale gave her a wary, unreadable look. There went that topic for the present, Smith had to come first. “No, this is a dog bite. More like a maul, a gash, it’s horrid.”
“What?” The chair under Gale creaked from his irate posture. “They let loose a dog on her!”
“Set.” Ida corrected, straight mouth going even sourer, “They set a dog on her. Now it’s hot and pink and awful. Since she didn’t tell a soul and no one noticed somehow.”
“I-I-“ Gale wasn’t in a fluster to defend himself, Ida knew him better than to think that, he was merely in some disbelief at the cruelty, “I- gave her a shot, in the hip. Didn’t see-“
“It’s her breast, Gale.” Ida gently interjected, “Reasonable not for her to be eager to show. But it must’ve been stubborn pride or some assumption of a better lot that had her keeping it from Maureen.”
Gale took to pinching the bridge of his nose, a nervous tick Ida knew well, and it served to steady his hand, pinch away a budding migraine and hide the tell-tale windows of his eyes. “They set a dog on her -on her, to- and it tore her?” he couldn’t even get it out and she felt for him.
But he had the right of it. “Yes. And it needs something. Sulfer ointment? I don’t know. It’s why a doctor would be preferred. It could get septic-“
“I know damnit!” Gale still shaded eyes from her as his voice shook. “Why didn’t she-“ it trailed off, weary and rough.
Ida pursed her lips and swallowed back a dozen things she wanted to say: apologies and reassurances, demands that he tell her what he himself had endured. “I’m sorry you’ve got so much to be done.” she offered instead, mildly and with some gentleness she hoped she’d retained. “I’m sure Kendeigh will be a great help with this. I only ask you keep after Smith about it-“
“-I don’t mind the work.” Gale lifted his hand at last and his eyes were red rimmed, “You know I don’t mind the work.”
“No.” she agreed. It was only the sort of work. It was the hapless, thankless, hopeless work of piecing together friends who had been intentionally smashed to bits by a handful of demons. It was never about the work. “And you are to bring as much of it to me as you can. That’s an order, Major.” At least that got her a small smile, a conceding nod, “And I have my spies, you know.”
“Oh I know.”
“I can’t wait to be about. Help with it all.”
“Just try’n live Ida, if you can.” Gale laughed, short and clipped, “Seemed a lot to ask of ya just last night. Don’t wanna push my luck.”
“I’ve ordered you to push your luck.” she reminded. “And now, don’t you think it’s time we stop Bucky from thinking of things to keep everyone outside?”
💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.
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#HAPPY SUNDAY BABIES#if this ain’t the taglist you signed up for ignore sorry -only got one#those who can#mota fanfic#mota#masters of the air#gale Cleven fanfic#bucky egan fanfiction#gale cleven#tallulah smith#john egan fanfiction#mota oc
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Bucky and Steve running across Logan and meeting Wade and Laura in the process
(x)
Logan was out shopping when he heard a whisper "Lucky James." And smelled familiar scents. It's Barnes and Rogers, he knows immediately his plans for the day are going to be postponed.
He just sighs and walks towards an alley so they can talk without too many onlookers. They stand at the opening of the alley with crossed arms and wide eyes. Logan just puts his arms out to the side as if he's showing off.
"It's been a while." Logan acknowledges.
"A WHILE?!" Rogers half shouts, "How are you not old It's been close to a century?" Barnes asks.
Logan just raised an eyebrow at them, "I could ask you the same thing but I know the answer to that." Logan points out.
"Of course you know the answer everyone knows did they enhance you too?" Rogers asks and Logan shakes his head. "Nah I don't need enhancements I was born this way." Logan says with a shrug.
"Explain." Barnes orders and Logan does. "I'm a mutant."
Barnes and Rogers share a look. "So what are you just slow to age?" Barnes asks. Logan smirks, "Kinda It's more like I have a healing factor the likes of which you've never seen. With a few other things." Logan tacks the last part on like an afterthought.
"What do you mean?" Rogers asks. Logan chuckles to himself, "For all intents and purposes I'm immortal. I was there when the bombs dropped in Japan and I'm still here."
Barnes and Rogers looked shell-shocked.
"I'm twice as old as both of you." Logan adds just because he can.
This seems to break them slightly. "Do you want to get lunch with us so we can catch up?" Barnes asks and Logan shrugs. "If you pay with that Stark money." Logan offers, and they agree.
They go to one of Logan's favorite places Wade had shown him and he takes their normal booth in the corner. The waitresses greet him happily and he smiles and waves back. It's very different from the world he was in and he'd like to keep it that way.
Barnes and Rogers couldn't keep their eyes off him like if they looked way he might just up and disappear. He understood but couldn't really relate.
"H-how have you been what have you been doing?" Rogers asked and what a question to start with. He might as well rip the bandage off now.
"I'm not your Lucky James." He says completely ignoring that question for now. "Also it's Logan now has been for a while."
They stare blankly and he continues.
"The man you served with isn't me he died a while ago. I'm from another universe a far shittier one of my own making. I was brought here as a replacement for the man you knew."
"...what?" Barnes breathed sounding a bit heartbroken.
"It's complicated and I don't know the full story, but you need to understand I'm not the same person you knew. It is most likely that we had the exact same experiences, but you are not my Barnes and Rogers and I am not your Logan."
"What happened to him?" Rogers asked.
"He sacrificed himself to save some kids. He was a hero and a legend to those who knew him." Logan answered.
"And you're not?" Rogers asked, sharp as a tack that one.
"Not in my world. I did a lot of bad things got real mad...lost control...... I'm not like the other Logan my story differs after the X-Men."
"You are an X-man?" Barnes asked and Logan looked away.
"Your Logan was. I am just a disgrace who couldn't accept I needed to get over myself."
Barnes's eyes lit up as he connected dots, "You're Wolverine." Steve's head wipped towards Logan as he also realized.
Logan nodded.
"Well, the question still stands How are you and what have you been doing?" Steve asks and Logan smiles slightly.
"Better, I have a new purpose and shot at life thanks to Wade. I'm doing jobs with the maniac and living a pretty normal life."
"Who's Wade?" Barnes asked with a raised brow. Logan smiles he can't help it. "My fiance. He's the one who brought me here, but that's a long complicated story that I promise isn't that interesting." Logan answered with a shrug.
"You said you did jobs. You want to specify?" Rogers asked and Logan rolled his eyes.
"We work for the TVA which is something I'm not going to get into and normal merc shit." Logan says offhandedly.
Rogers splutters his drink and Barnes looks interested. "Would I know Wade?" Barnes asks and Logan smirks, "Definitely." They give their orders as the waitress comes and Logan gets a call.
He answers with a surprisingly soft, "Hey kit." That has Barnes and Rogers looking at one another eyes wide.
"Yeah yeah, we're at our favorite place." A pause. "Yeah ok, do you want your usual?" Another pause, "Ok see you in a bit bye."
The waitress raises an eyebrow at Logan, "Does she want her usual?" Logan nods and she scratches something else down before leaving.
"What was that?" They ask at the same time and Logan just smiles. "The main reason your Logan sacrificed himself is coming." He says and he sounds so incredibly fond.
They talk for a while longer until Logan perks up and the super soldiers turn to see what Logan's looking at.
It's a young lady who looks so much like Logan all of the questions they have are answered after just a glance.
"Come here kit." Logan calls his voice seeming to vibrate like a purr. The lady makes her way to the seat next to Logan smiling.
"Hi, papá." She greets her voice vibrating the same way. Logan throws an arm over her shoulder and squeezes before letting her go.
Rogers is trying and failing to speak as Barnes just stares. "This is Laura." Logan introduces and Barnes manages to get himself under control first.
"Nice to meet you Laura you can call me Bucky that's Steve." He sounds only slightly breathy which is impressive. Logan knows full well this is one of the last things they expected.
"I know." She says flatly and Rogers can't help the bark of laughter that escapes him. That's definitely Logan's daughter no doubt about it. Barnes seemed to have a similar reaction but managed to only snicker.
Logan doesn't even hide the shit-eating smile that crosses his face.
"Did Wade follow you?" Logan asked and Laura rolled her eyes. "He said he wouldn't so I give it 30 minutes until he shows up." Logan nods along like he expected this answer.
Barnes seemed to remember what Logan had said about this being the reason they're Logan had sacrificed himself as he looked at her closer.
"You're our Logan's kid." He stated more than asked. Rogers jerked in his seat as he too recalled that. Laura just sighed. Barnes suddenly felt like shit. Logan however didn't seem upset or annoyed at him.
"Yes, but I'm technically a clone. They took his DNA during the Weapons X program. I'm an attempt at recreating the perfect weapon." She said as she gestured at Logan who looked pissed off at the reminder.
There was a lot there that Rogers and Barnes hadn't heard yet none of which sounded good.
"I miss Dad but his sacrifice wasn't in vain. I have another life now a better one just like he wanted." She answered easily. Rogers and Barnes nodded sagely It definitely made them feel better knowing that their friend had sacrificed himself to save his daughter.
"I don't know how much you want to answer but what exactly was Weapons X?" Barnes asked the both of them.
Logan answered, "It was an organization that prays on mutants. It really started with me they tricked me into getting adamantium adhered to my bones before...well...they made me into the perfect weapon and took away my free will."
Laura leaned into him and Logan welcomed it smiling softly at her before continuing, "I was the tenth attempt and the first success. I eventually escaped, But they couldn't let it go so they tried cloning me." He breathed out.
Laura picked up from there, "I'm the 23rd attempt." She answered with a shrug. "Weapons X has been taken down but there's still offshoots that's what got pop."
Logan growled softly. "Fucking Francis." He snarled. Barnes seemed to look like he might be connecting some dots but couldn't quite put the whole picture together.
They were interrupted by the food being delivered. They talk for a while longer about less touchy issues after that, Laura even explaind what it's like in the mansion. That is until a while later when the diner goes silent and Logan and Laura perk up.
Rogers and Barnes reluctantly turn to see Deadpool sans his normal outfit. As he makes his way to the back booth where they are sitting. People he passes scramble out the door behind him.
Most of the waiters and waitresses look nervous, but he pays them no mind as he makes his way over. Rogers and Barnes prepare for a fight. "Peanut Mini, how are we doing?" He chirped.
Laura starts purring, "Pop." She greeted. "Thought you said you weren't going to follow the kit darling?" Logan asked his voice warbling the same way Laura's was.
"And let you two have all the fun? Please!" He rolled his eyes. He then turned and finally looked at the other two men and his eyes went wide.
Logan lunged at him covering his mouth, "Don't you dare scream Wade." He threatened as he pulled him down into the other open chair next to him.
Laura just laughed and Logan glared at her. Eventually, Wade managed to wiggle out of Logan's grasp, "OMG CAPTAIN AMERICA MY HERO!" He cried.
Rogers looked distinctly uncomfortable, "YOU KNEW I WANTED TO BE EXACTLY LIKE YOU WHEN I GREW UP DESPITE THE FACT I AM CANADIAN!" Wade exclaimed excitedly.
Rogers wanted to point out the fact that he ended up the exact opposite of him but didn't. His face however must have conveyed this because Deadpool answered." I KNOW I DIDN'T QUITE MANAGE IT BUT I GOT PRETTY CLOSE!"
Steve went to speak but Bucky was quick to speak over him because he had questions. He had never dared get close to Deadpool he was terrifying but now seemed like a perfect time.
"What do you mean by pretty close? I mean you're known for taking any job with a high enough pay?" He didn't ask rudely just really pointing out a fact in the underground.
Wade turned his attention to him, "Well sure But it's mainly bad people, Hell I'm quite warm-blooded for a merc. Besides when you're the best at what you do you end up taking the dirty jobs." And then as an afterthought tacked on, "And I do like money how else am I supposed to buy cocaine?"
"Al does love her cocaine." Laura agreed and Logan nodded along with that train of thought.
Rogers looked like he might explode and Logan looked lovestruck. The soldiers wondered distinctly what Logan saw in this maniac.
"What do you mean warm-blooded?" Barnes asked.
"Well, sometimes when kids get desperate they come to get help through unorthodox means. Most people don't touch it because the pay isn't good." Deadpool explained easily.
That seemed...actually pretty sweet which was surprising for someone like Deadpool.
"Besides I mainly take hits on drug lords, child traffickers, rapists, murderers, and the other unsavory," Deadpool answers easily and Logan nods at that confirming it.
The conversations continue and surprisingly Deadpool or Wade actually seems... Okay. Logan is enamored with him and it's understandable he has a charm to him if you can get over his...eccentricities.
Laura also clearly loves him and that's enough for them. They plan to have lunch at some later point. They pay and Wade leaves a generous tip...like a couple hundred dollars generous. The waitress seems to know him and thanks him with a smile. And just like that the trio is gone.
Steve and Bucky make their way back to the tower as they try to figure out how to explain the encounter they just had with the other Avengers.
"So where have you been?" Tony asks the moment they appear in the main area. The two share a look, "We met an old friend and caught up."
"Old friend, how old was he 90?" Clint asks from the couch. Bucky chuckles, "Actually he's much older than that. We had no idea though turns out he's a mutant."
Everyone pauses at that and looks over to them all asking them to continue with just a glance.
"Super enhanced healing factor It's as immortal as it sounds." Steve answered.
"Yeah?" Tony asked eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Yeah, but it's complicated and it turns out he has a kid and fiance." Steve answered easily.
"With immortality? that sounds painful." Tony asked seeming haunted at the idea of outliving Pepper and Morgan.
Bucky chuckled, "Funny thing that they're also immortal."
Everyone paused, "How did that happen?" Bruce asked.
"Both are experiments from his DNA." Barnes revealed.
Tony and Bruce shared a look, "Is there any way we can meet them?" Tony asked excitedly.
Bucky and Steve shared a glance, "Well...sure but.." Steve trailed off.
"One of them is Deadpool." Barnes finished.
Natasha and Clint seemed to jump a foot in the air out of shock alone.
"WHAT?!" They both shouted in shock.
(I plan on posting this tomorrow to Ao3)
#deadclaws#deadclaw#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#deadpool 3#deadpool#deadpool x wolverine#wade wilson#wade x logan#logan howlett#wolverine#poolverine#laura kinney#x23#steve rogers#captain america#bucky barnes#the winter soldier#Tony Stark#iron man#Bruce banner#The hulk#Clint Barton#Hawkeye#Natasha Romanoff#black widow#hulk#Avengers#The Avengers#Resi's shorts
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Explaining Periods to The Sullys
synopsis: reader explains what a period is to the Sully kids (with the help of kiri)
pairings: neteyam x reader implied couple(aged up), reader x sully kids + spider
genre: idk, informative??/ comedy???
author's note: you guys didn't forget about dr. max patel, right? I barely see him in anyone's writing. proofread once
warnings: mention of female bodies(?), periods, blood, slight gun mention(nothing violent), maybe a few swear words, slight suggestive comment, slight stabbing threat(threat was made as a joke- calm down guys)
word count: 1.6k words
"OOF" you rubbed your forehead as your butt had just landed on the floor.
"I'm always forgetting that my avatar form is taller than my human body" you sighed as you got up.
"This is the third time this week that you've bumped into that doorpost" Norm snickered before hitting himself on the light bulb above him that was illuminating the lab.
"Crap" he murmured, rubbing the top of his head in pain.
"Ha!" you let out in retaliation.
Spider and Lo'ak laughed at the scene unfolding while Kiri and Neteyam rolled their eyes.
"Anyways, what was it that you kids wanted from the lab?" Norm squinted at the Sully kids, weary of their intentions.
"We just wanted to see where it is that y/n does all of her experiments" Lo'ak responded as he played around with the light fixtures, flipping through some different light colors illuminating a plant.
"Whatever, just don't break anything or the top scientist with have my head for any more expenses." Norm warned
"It's alright, Norm. I'm watching them. They won't break anything. And if they do, I won't take Lo'ak hunting again." You reassured him.
"Hey, what do I have to do with that! You know if you don't teach me how to use one of those rifle thingies then I'll have to wait for my dad. And you know how that is. The last time he taught me was months ago, he's been too busy teaching Neteyam." Lo'ak side eyed his older brother.
"Pff, it's not my fault that you're not responsible enough and that dad gets nervous every time you have a gun in your hands." Neteyam shot back.
"But-"
"Then you'll just have to stop touching everything you see in the lab, Lo'ak. You see? Easy peasy. Problem solved. Then you won't break anything and I can give you your next lesson tomorrow." You patted Lo'ak's back and gave Norm a reassuring smile. 'Don't worry,' you mouthed and turned around, focusing your attention on the Sully kids.
"So, what's the plan?" you tilted your head in question.
"Well, I've gotta get a new oxygen tank for my mask and-" Spider headed for the cabinets
"SPIDER, are you for real?"
"What?" he shook his shoulder in question.
"You're still using those crappy RDA masks that need a wire and oxygen tank and all of that. I thought Norm gave you the new ones, from my research company."
"You own a company?" Max teased as raised his eyebrows at you.
"No... you know what I mean. I mean the science department that I'm part of. The new scientists that came to Pandora after your disastrous RDA was kicked out." You shot a look at the doctor.
"Really, you didn't have to go that far..."
"Oh, lighten up Max." you patted his shoulders. "Anyways, where are those new masks? Spider needs one, he's still using those outdated ones."
"Really, those old masks shouldn't even work anymore." Max shook his head and handed Spider a mask, "Here you go, kid."
"I thought Norm gave him one." Max crossed his arms while conversing.
"Nah, I guess Norm's been too distracted with the Na'vi school he took over after Grace" You shrugged.
"Yea... well, see you later guys, I have some more research to work on." he waved before walking away.
"So, Spider, let's get this thing on. All you have to do is take off all of those wires and that old mask. Next, just put this one on like you did the old one and adjust it and it should start working immediately." You helped Spider with the process while Kiri visited her mother's avatar body.
"No tank or anything?" Spider questioned.
"Nope, this has a little filter thing that automatically filters out the carbon and nitrogen inside the mask. No more heavy tank for you to use." You threw the old air tank to the disposal pile and was headed towards one of your plants before being interrupted by Lo'ak.
"Hey y/n, what's this?" Lo'ak held up a packet of pills.
"Lo'ak, put that back." Neteyam scolded before snatching the pills from his hand and placing it back on your table.
"It says, birth-control," Lo'ak scrunched his eyebrows while reading the words on the wrapper.
"Take once a day to prevent pregnancy..."Spider read aloud before putting the pills back.
"Woah..." Lo'ak and Spider let out in unison before giving you and Neteyam looks.
"Are you guys...doing ummm...having errr" Lo'ak stumbled as tried to get the words out of his mouth.
"First of all, that's none of your business! Second, those pills aren't even for my avatar body. They're for my human body, and not for what you think it is."
"Then for what?" Spider raised his eyebrows at you.
"They're for my period. But only for my human body because my avatar doesn't get periods." You sighed in having to explain periods to fifteen-year-old boys.
"What's a period?" Lo'ak asked.
"Women things." Kiri responded as she rolled her eyes at her brother's nosiness.
"And how would you know? You're a na'vi." Spider interrogated.
"Because girls talk to girls about things they don't talk to boys about. Duh." Kiri shot back.
"So, what is it?" Lo'ak waved his hands in question.
"Yea, what's a, um- a period? Isn't that the little dot that goes at the end of a sentence? At least that's what Norm taught me..." Spider trailed off.
"Yea, you're partially correct, Spider," you gave a small nod as you thought about how you were going to explain things.
"But umm.. I'm talking about a different type of period called menstruation. It's when a female human bleeds for 5-7 days straight each month." you let out as you saw Spider's and Lo'ak's faces change from curiosity to shock.
"L M F A O- Is that how you spell it? FIVE TO SEVEN DAYS STRAIGHT?? You've got to be kidding me. You don't expect us to believe that, right? I mean, sometimes Spider and I do dumb things but you don't expect us to be stupid enough to fall for that, right?" Lo'ak simply stared at you, waiting for a response.
"No, she's right. You guys could definitely learn a thing or two about humans." Neteyam rolled his eyes at his younger brother's ignorance.
"Wait, wait, wait," Spider held his arms out in shock, "You actually bleed for up to a week and don't die? How the hell do you not die?"
"And why do you bleed for that long? And from where are you bleeding?" Lo'ak pitched in.
"She's bleeds from her pu-"
"Kiri." Neteyam warned.
"What? It's true. Might as well be blunt with these two skxawngs." Kiri rolled her eyes again.
"So basically, when a human female starts getting more physically mature, sorta like coming of age.. Her body starts preparing for pregnancy every month. It basically lines the uterus and gets ready for a baby. When the body sees that there is no baby, the uterus starts shedding it's lining for about 5-7 days until it's cleaned up. The shedding comes out in blood and that's what causes the bleeding."
"..."
"What?" You cocked your head in question.
"So basically, because you didn't get knocked up, your body bleeds?" Lo'ak squints his eyes, trying to understand the information he was just given.
"What's so hard about that?" Spider shrugged.
"WH- WHAT'S SO HARD ABOUT THAT?! Are you guys kidding me or what?" You mouth drops at the nonsense you hear coming from the younger boy's mouth.
"You bimbos, it's not just bleeding. It involves many symptoms such as heavy cramping, back pain, nausea, dizziness, fatigue, mood swings, headaches, appetite changes , and more." Kiri stated as she crossed her arms.
"So the symptoms of a cold, big deal." Spider spat out, trying to minimize the severity of everything.
"Oh I'm sorry, did you just say big deal? Maybe I should put a fucking knife in your stomach to see if that's a big deal or not because that's what the cramps feel like. Or maybe, better... I should kick you in the fucking balls, right?" You lashed out at the boy in front of you.
"Damn, chill, he didn't mean it, right, Spider?"Lo'ak tried to calm the situation, "Maybe she's on her period right now..." he whispered.
"Avatars don't have periods you dingbat" Neteyam let out.
"Well maybe her human form is experiencing cramps in the link pod and so the emotions are traveling through the conscious connection and that's why she's so cranky." Spider stepped back, not trying to get on your bad side.
"..."
You only blinked in response as Kiri and Neteyam bursted out laughing.
"What in the name of eywa..."
"I've never heard so much bullshit come out of someone's mouth before." Neteyam shook his head at the human boy's imagination. "You know, y/n told me that humans usually read a big guide book before joining the avatar program... well maybe you should read one on human biology. It's only fitting since you're ehh, you know..." Neteyam trailed off.
"Ha, I'm glad I wasn't the one to say something stupid this time" Lo'ak applauded himself.
"Nah, you too Lo'ak. How about you read it with Spider so you can both giggle at the pictures and whatever shit you two happen to read" you turned away from the boys as you went back to examining the plants you were experimenting on.
"Does she really bleed from her va-" Lo'ak was cut off.
"And for a week straight..." Spider chimed in.
"Shut up!" Kiri's voice rang through your ears as you quietly giggled to yourself.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
should I make more fics like this; reader teaching the sullys some human things? Tell me what you think!
as always, comments/reblogs are much appreciated❤
do not steal my work and please don't post it on ao3 or wattpad
© eyrina-avatar
colors used: #01DBFA and #01B3CC
#neteyam x reader#loak x reader#kiri x reader#sully kids#sullys kids x reader#spider x reader#neteyam#loak#kiri#avatar spider#avatar#awow#awow x reader#awow imagines#neteyam imagine#loak imagine#kiri imagine#spider imagine#avatar crack#avatar 2#avatar the way of water#neteyam sully#avatar loak#kiri sully#avatar fic
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would it be a bother to ask for a fic w a tomboy reader and william afton? ive been on such a kick w william afton x reader fics here since i watched the movie and i love all of them but i am not feminine in the slightest so if you could write one id be so grateful!! and age gap and size difference too would also be sooo 👌👌👌. thank you so much!!!
note ✧.* this was a lil hard for me to write considering im on the girly-er side so if anything looks weird in relation to the premise i apologize in advance!! also so sorry for getting this out a lil later than promised.
pairing ✧.* steve raglan / william afton x reader
cw ✧.* age difference (reader is 18-21, william is 45-50), degrading, spanking, approximately two slaps to the face, blow jobs, rubbing through jeans? idk what to call that, coming in pants (fem)
taglist ✧.* @dilfity
synopsis ✧.* while attending yet another meeting with your career counsellor, he has a few choice of words for you.
jeans (w. afton x reader)
you sit in mr. raglan's office, trying to sit straight up, legs crossed, not bouncing. he slightly shifts in his chair as he reads your file, moving his spinning chair from side to side, as he mentally scrutinizes your report. it's nerve-wracking. anyone in your shoes would feel this way, but the way he's intently reading over every little detail makes you squirm.
the worst part is, this isn't even the first time you've been in this exact position. it wouldn't be so bad if mr. raglan wasn't such a hard ass on you. always practically demanding answers of why you keep getting let go from the jobs he gives you, criticizing the tiniest details. nothing gets passed this guy, and yet here you are.
(there's something that almost riles you up about the way he talks to you, though. he has a habit of talking with those big hands of his in a way that makes your insides twist.)
"so you sit here in front of me..." he pipes up suddenly, looking at you then lifting a brow, "wearing jeans to a meeting, for christ sake, asking for yet another job, so what? you can get 'let go' again?"
"well, yes," you say, a little dumbstruck at his comment on your attire.
mr. raglan laughs shortly. "i got news for you, kid. people with your kinda track record don't exactly find jobs as easy as you think they do."
you hold back from rolling your eyes. your fists clench at your side angrily. you speak through gritted teeth, "look, i just need a job. i'll take anything, i'm desperate."
"hate to break it to you, but things just don't work like that—"
you've had it. "will you just stop being such an asshole and give me my damn options already?! i didn't come here to be lectured."
you're seething, breathless from your outburst. your heart is pounding but nothing can beat the jaw-slacked look on his face. there's a deafening silence that has you on the edge of your seat. then, shortly, "you come here for advice, and i'm giving it to you."
you want to say something again, you open your mouth to do so, but he raises a hand to silence you promptly. "you said you're desperate, hm? want my real, useful advice?"
you stare at him, not liking the direction of this conversation or his weirdly tone of dripping malice. "get the fuck on your knees then."
it's hot, you'll admit it. and he's the whole package too, total dad-i'd-like-to-fuck and all. this isn't your type of deal, but if he's gonna offer it to you, fuck it, you'll take it. you'll take everything this man gives you. "mr. raglan—" you say, purposefully furrowing your brows, trying to act scandalized for godsake—
"get your ass over here," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.
you shut up, perking up at that, and make way to the open space between his legs. "look at you, you degenerate thing. on your knees for such a cause."
your head swims and the buzzing between your thighs becomes far too apparent to be ignored. but you're willing to wait for that relief. you part your lips expectantly, hoping he'd get the message to undo his pants and he just laughs at you. "filthy fucking thing wants my cock in her mouth so bad."
"uh-huh," you say, mouth still open.
he does away with all the restraints and guides his cock into your mouth. eagerly, you take him and lick up the underside of his dick, eliciting a groan from him. he makes a fist around your hair and guides your mouth up and down his cock, not caring about what you can and can't take and you fucking love it.
the noises of him hitting your gag reflex is music to the mouth of your ears. the way you push him out only for him to slide back in is truly a marvel. and the grunts, groaning, and degradations that come from him makes you want to take him even faster, more than what your body can handle, and he just laughs it off, commenting on much of an "eager, filthy thing" you are.
when you feel his helping hands thrust your mouth more erratically is when he decides to pull you off. he uses your hair to stand you up and practically shove you against the desk, back facing towards him. you yelp in pain, only adding to the ache in your stomach. he stands to his full height and you gulp. fuck, he's so much bigger than you, of course he can just throw you around like that. when you ask him if you should remove your clothes, he pauses for a moment, thinking. then, mischievously, "no, i want to make good use of those jeans."
curiously, you look back at him, but his fingers are pressing against your clothed pussy. he presses hard, letting the fabric grind on you. "oh, fuck," you moan.
"yeah? you like that?" he asks gruffly, rubbing your clit through your pants from side to side. usually this stimulation wouldn't be enough, but fuck you were so hot for him that you didn't care. "fuckin' dressed like a boy," he scoffs.
tears burn in your eyes, partly from his words, the other part from the stimulation. then he slaps you across the face. "i asked you a fucking question."
"yes!" you cry, moving a hand to rub at your stinging cheek. he grabs your hand and then slaps the other side of your face, just for fun. a few tears slip down your face at his physicality, but doesn't change that fact that you, "love it so much!"
"think you deserve to come?" he asks. "after that shit you pulled. you think you deserve it?"
you sniffle, knowing damn well what his answer's going to be. "well, i don't."
he removes his hands then promptly wipes them on his pants. you sob out, grasping for his hands but he pushes off of you. "you better come back with a better attitude if you expect anything more than what i gave you."
#asks#fnaf#fnaf x reader#five nights at freddy's#fnaf smut#william afton#steve raglan#william afton x reader#william afton smut
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I see many Snape Stans (I dislike Snape but I see why he turned out the way he did) saying James sexually assaulted him, especially on TikTok, when it’s not the truth at all, we don’t know if he ever actually took off his pants because and it wasn’t his fault that Snape wasn’t wearing any trousers. While he did bully him he never sexually assaulted him, and so many people are now saying this and I’m just flabbergasted, why did no one read the books? Why does everyone get their informations off TikTok and Twitter?
I don't really like this topic, to be honest. But here's how I perceive it.
1. In the canon, as far as I remember, it wasn't even implied that wizards wore trousers under their robes. They all just wore their underwear. And Lupin says:
"Oh, that one had a great vogue during my time at Hogwarts," said Lupin reminiscently. "There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle."
"Yes," he said, "but he wasn't the only one. As I say, it was very popular. . . . You know how these spells come and go. . . ."
So Snape not only created this spell himself, but it also became popular at school. So many students were hanging upside down, showing off their underwear.
From this, we can infer that wizards perceived it slightly differently than we do now, and even than Harry. It was "fun" bullying, but nothing more. Even Lupin himself sounds like he's justifying it, although he probably got hung upside down too ("There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle.").
2. We don't know for sure if James ended up taking Snape's pants off. Logically speaking, JKR simply didn't describe it, assuming that he did. Given the time the book was written, she probably didn't intend to invest it with such a horrible meaning. This all happens in the 70s in the WW. For our time, of course, it's SA. And that's awful. But the perception of that time could leave its mark. For example, when I was in school, many things that are now considered "awful" were seen as "not so bad". Those who did those awful things back then didn't even really understand how awful their actions truly were. Society evolves and we increasingly respect people's personal psychological and physical boundaries. What we didn't perceive as SA back then is considered SA today. A simple example you've probably seen in movies, spanking children was considered normal and right. That's how society raised those people. Surely today those same people wouldn't spank their children, because they would understand it's bad.
So it's likely that nobody at school perceived this action as SA. Moreover, James always played to the crowd. And if he really, according to the author's intention, took Snape's pants off, and the whole school saw it as normal, and didn't start looking at James with disgust... it raises big questions for the school students, doesn't it? If my friend did this today, he wouldn't be my friend anymore. Most people would look at such a person with disgust. But James's popularity didn't diminish at all.
This brings us back to the fact that nobody back then saw it as worse than bullying. So the society of that time hadn't yet formed enough understanding of what SA was and how bad it was to expose someone else's genitals. So James didn't fully understand either how awful it was, much more awful than pink bubbles out of your mouth or doubling someone's head in size. So for them it was all on the same level — taking someone's pants off or making them hang upside down or doubling their head in size.
I'm not justifying it, but the wizarding world is pretty harsh. Neville was thrown out of a window, Harry almost killed Draco, Fred and George literally made a kid disappear for a week, and Hermione kept Rita Skeeter captive in a jar for over a month. All of this is awful, but the wizarding world operates by different moral standards.
If judged in terms of our morality, there are almost no morally pure characters in these books.
I especially don't understand Snape stans (I mean I like Snape, but I don’t understand their logic). In terms of our morality, both Snape and James deserve to be punished. Snape would have got a much bigger sentence for joining and helping a terrorist organisation. What are Snape stans trying to prove? That Snape was better? No, he wasn't. They're all arseholes in terms of the muggle world of 2024.
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The celestial bot thrumming so intently, convinced anymore strain he'd pop a metal joint. Eyes fixated down to the shaking movements of his palms.
Today had been a terrible day, but nothing out of the ordinary. Fussy kids eating up the time needed for the other kids. Sun stretched out further than his fingertips could reach and wrangle the troublemakers out of harm's way in time. All it takes is one booming shrill of a voice advocating for chaos for all hell to break loose.
Every attempt to heed the storm and aid him met with a snappy strained pleasantry. He's got this, he's made for this! You've only got one fleshy squishy body, don't push it now. Some kid puts a little too much strain on his wrist joint, that's just show biz! And these crazy kids demand an encore!
Every attempt so far in the early evening air to talk to him met with a question about your well being. A comment about that funny thing you were both there to witness but not actually all that funny! How many minutes he had left before Moon would take the reins, and did you really really wanna spend the next half hour talking about how he feels? Silly, feeble, kind friend. He's just fine.
But he's not. Sure if there had been a way to see Moon flickering in those bright vacant eyes, you'd be giving each other the look.
No more chores left to do, none that he'd let you do anyway. Too high strung. Things snatched from your hands as he forcibly twists fate on the limits of his abilities. Trembling himself apart.
Little you could do to evade the inevitable parts & service visit if he kept pushing like this, so you've hatched a plan.
“Laundry-”
“Done and done! Done twice!”
“Folded sheets-”
“Pristine and crisply folded. Would you really need to check that?”
“Books-”
“All put away and alphabetical like they should be!”
You grin. “... Fairy lights?”
“Put away insideee theee closeet-....” Words dragged out in a dwindling song-songy tune, his faceplate whipping around to face you. “-why are you asking that? They're out of season, Friend.”
“I'll put ‘em to good use then!” You chirp, hands placed on your hips. “Closet?”
Sun squints skeptically. “Yes. Closet.” Eyes fixated on you, suspiciously. You ignore this, of course. Waltzing your way over to the Daycare storage closet. Gathering up the supplies in your arms. Awkwardly leaning down in the naptime nook as you pass by, nabbing a book at random. Using your foot to toss a few throw pillows atop of the pile.
Sun squints at you. “Whateeeever it is you think you're doing, just know, it won't. Work!”
“I’m taking a reading break, don't care what you do. ” You chime. An offended gasp piping up behind you. You duck into one of the corners on the ground level of the play structure. Tying the flat sheet to the gridded bars inside the small space. Weaving the corded battery powered lights inside, flicking them on. Flickering flimsy bulbs of light, shimmering a yellow hue on the play structure bars still visible. It wasn't perfect, but. Cozy enough to hopefully lure a creature right into the trap.
All you had to do was wait. Plopping yourself down in the makeshift blanket fort. Carefully cracking open the book, nesting the hardcover against your thighs. Not actually reading the words of course. Too focused on the shuffling outside the play place, jiggly footsteps alluding playing a game of who cracks first, and you intend to win.
Every fiber of your being trying not to beam with a grin, when Sun eventually ducks his head into the space, craned down to observe the hurried fruits of labour.
“There's still a lot to do, y’know.” He says. Tone wobbly, uncertain.
“I know,” You say, turning the page. “And there's even more to do tomorrow.”
“Sooooo,” He drags on, one hand gripping the caged siding. “We should keep going.”
“Sure.” You hum. “Five minutes.”
A disgruntled sound reverberates from your friend. Shoot. He's on to you. All or nothing now. You cheekily pat the remaining space on your legs. Worth a try, but not at all expecting him to take you up on it. A gesture of sincerity of course, glancing up at him. Pulling you into his lap aplenty times in moments of distress, or sorrow. Or to impishly move you aside because whatever you had been doing, was taking much too long.
Difficult as always to follow his eye line. Making a guess his gaze is fixated on your torso. Hands folding to his chest, restlessly squeezing his intertwined palms. Faceplate trained slightly down, you recognize this. A conversation you're not part of, and very little business pondering on. Turning back to the book, rolling your shoulders.
Sun, careful and hesitantly steps into the space with you. Kneeling down in front of you, paying him little mind. He's exhausted sure, but one wrong jeering word from your mouth and he'll scamper right back out away from you. Quiet whirring and rhythmic tapping atop of one bell. Words a blurry haze along the page to read at all, terribly distracted by the striped pants lingering above the peripheral. Sure if he made any sudden movements, you'd equally skitter out of the play structure too.
Sun reaches hesitantly for the book. Index and thumb pinching the pages on either side of the hardcover book. You let him, smiling up at him gently. He never really indulged in much book reading, much more of a collaborative storyteller. Eagerly adopting any silly, outlandish detail a guest would pipe up with during play time.
Pulled from your musing as he closes the book, setting it aside.
Careful movements as he closes the space between the two of you. Contorting himself down with much less graceful ease than you'd ever seen, and flops right in your lap. Faceplate pressed flat against your tummy, gangly arms quick to encircle your torso. Slumping his weight down as he lets out a shaky faux breath. Full heartedly admitting defeat, solidified as he speaks up.
“Today was bad.” Words lightly muffled, for effect of course. His speaker box didn't reside in the mouth rested against you.
“It was.” You affirm gently. Resting your arms along the backs of his shoulders, met with a small twitch underneath you. His arms squeezing you tighter after a good few moments.
“How much longer?” He inquires hesitantly, tilting his head up to see you.
“Lost count.” You tease softly.
His rays twirl once, in place of an eye roll. Plopping his face to rest back against you once more.
“Five more minutes then.”
“Five more it is.”
#sun x y/n#sun x reader#daycare attendant fnaf#daycare attendant sun#sun fnaf#moon like. briefly mentioned lmao#fluff#idk if its tooth rotting but it is to ME#writings#drabble
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The last time
Pairing: William "Billy" Russo x fem! reader Summary: You're done being the less important one. The one who always had to conform to the big asshole and playboy Mr. Billy Goddamn Russo. And this time you really promised yourself that it's over... but is it? Wairning(s): Billy is toxic, but he loves the reader; the reader loves Billy, but everyone is fucked up; fight; swearing; blood; the reader is a doctor; the reader and Billy argue, but both cannot live without each other; violence; weapon; Inspired by: Taylor Swift - The Last Time (Feat. Gary Lightbody) Nonsense from me: I'm so happy I was able to write this in this week. I hope you like it. 💙🖤 P.S. The next oneshot will be with Darkling (Would've, Could've, Should've), but I don't know when I'll be able to write it. 😅 Word count: 6,5k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen
Find myself at your door Just like all those times before I'm not sure how I got there All roads, they lead me here
When you opened the door, you didn't expect that instead of finding the pizza delivery guy, you would find Billy Russo... or rather, what was left of him.
The hood over his head and his slightly lowered head were unable to hide the scars on his face. You notice that over time they have become... less visible... at least not as angry red as they were in the media after they published the fugitive's photo.
Yeah. You saw the news. (And talked to Maria.) You know what happened.
Maybe you didn't want to deal with a man who had broken your heart many times over the years, but you couldn't just pretend he didn't exist.
His face, his name, even that stupid nickname, Jigsaw, were everywhere. In the newspapers, on TV, on the internet, in your old photo albums and even in your fucking dreams. And now he was standing in front of you. The shell that remains of a one and only Billy Russo.
"May I... may I come in?" he whispered, staring at you uncertainly. You promised yourself that you would slam the door on that scarred face when he came to you... but in your toughts he was more... arrogant... just like he used to be.
"I... I'm not sure." the words come out of you as you look at him, trying to recover from the shock. You thought seeing him in person wouldn't do anything to you. How stupid you were...
"Please... I just want to talk to you. Give me five minutes and then you can sand me back to hell."
You bite your lip. You saw on the news that the Punisher and Jigsaw had teamed up... if Frank could forgive him enough to work with him and let him near Maria and the kids, you could give him that five damn minutes, before you try to kick his ass.
"Only five minutes, Russo." you say as you let him in.
Closing the door behind him, you wonder how far you've fallen by letting him back into your home… but from the way he looks around your place hesitantly, avoiding looking at you, you wonder who's really lost their dignity here.
I imagine you are home In your room, all alone And you open your eyes into mine And everything feels better
"You... you look beautiful." he says as he finally looks at you for the first time since your… rather tumultuous breakup.
"You wanted to talk." you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the dresser and stare intently at the man sitting on your couch.
"I… wanted to come to you after… all this shit. I… I could have lost my fucking memories somehow, but I think you've embedded yourself in my brain more than anything else. I went to your apartment, but you moved away." he admits, avoiding your heavy gaze to stare at the coffee table. You see a sad smile on his face as he stares at the pile of books and papers that were almost always present in any available space in your apartment. Some things don't change.
"I did." you say, closing some of your patient files from him so he can't analyse where exactly you work after you quit your job at Anvil as their private doctor. You collect papers and put them on your desk, turning your back to him. "Some people would get the hint. Did Frank throw out what was left of your brain by smashing your head against a mirror?"
You know it's a low move on your part, but you can't resist making him suffer. And by the way you suddenly feel his warm body behind you, you know that turning your back on your former marine and murderous ex wasn't such a smart idea. You swallow and turn around, crossing your arms to stare defiantly at him.
He is angry. You see it in his eyes. For some strange reason, instead of throwing you against the wall, he decides to close his eyes and take a few calming breaths.
And the part of you that still cares about him reminds you that he never laid a finger on you. Screaming, shouting, verbal threats were options. However, he never lost his temper enough to actually try to hurt you... but maybe you should stop testing your luck after all?
"Well... I... I think he finally put something into my empty head." you shift your puzzled gaze to him. You thought Frankie and Billy would go back to fighting like vicious dogs, trying to kill each other. Apparently, things have changed more than you originally expected.
"And here I thought that no one would be able to get through your thick skull."
"I'm going to therapy." he blurts out. You frown. Well, this wasn't at all what you expected when you saw Billy again. "To… sort it all out." he says, not breaking eye contact with you.
"Well… good for you. But I assume you didn't come here just to brag about it."
Billy shakes his head and takes a step towards you, watching your reaction. You tense up, but then relax as your body subconsciously takes in the scent of his perfume, which after all reminds you of (ironically) safety.
"No. I don't. I... I'm here to ask you if..."
"Stop it. Whatever you are about to ask me, my answer is no. I don't want to have anything to do with you." you interrupt him before he makes any suggestions for you to consider. "Not after what you did to me, to Frankie, to Castles. I'm glad you're on the mend, but I don't want to know you, Russo."
"Y/N, please..." he sighs pleadingly and reaches up to cup your cheek. You grab his hand before you can feel his fingers on you in a tender gesture that so often melted your heart for him.
"DON'T... just leave. Do one damn thing for someone else's sake and just leave. Let me be as I was." you say, glaring at him and internally cursing yourself for the tremble in your voice.
Somehow you win this battle of hurt glances because the next thing you hear in the room after his heavy breathing is the door slamming as he leaves. You are left alone. You're shaking with the emotions that are flowing through you now. You put your hand to your mouth and cried quietly.
Billy fucking Russo always had to come and mess up your life like a damn master.
And right before your eyes I'm breaking, no past No reasons why Just you and me
You come back from your shift at the hospital to find Frankie sitting outside your apartment door.
"One more such trip to the past, and I swear I will take a dog from the shelter and threaten you with it. What do you want, Frank?" you ask, crossing your arms and glaring at the Punisher.
"Nice to see you too, Doc. Have you finally learned how to sew people up, or are you still torturing them?" he asks with a mischievous smile, standing up and walking over to you.
"It was only once in Afghanistan, and in my defence, you were squirming like a dog in a nettle. Besides, it's not my fault you fell on knives because you stumbled like an idiot after the action was over."
The man laughs and pulls you into a hug. "It's been too long. Too bad you fucking ran away from Russo all the way here, I hate coming back to this town. By the way, Maria and kids missed you too."
"I spoke to them just yesterday on Skype. Besides, somehow this distance doesn't stop you from harassing me. And not only you. Billy was here two weeks ago." you say, leading him into your apartment. You give him a stern look as he walk inside. He rolls his eyes at me but bends down and takes off his shoes before walking further in.
"I thought so. He's been looking like shit for two weeks. I'm sure he now consists of 70 percent alcohol. Lisa wondered if his corpse on the couch was starting to decompose enough for Maria to let her perform an autopsy on him." you smile at the mention of your goddaughter. That's your little girl.
"If you tell me you're here to stand up for him, I'll kick you out of my apartment. The idea of letting him be part of your family again after all this shit he has done is sick. You're a fucked-up man, Frankie."
"Y/N, it's not what it looks like."
"Frank damn it, he almost helped kill your family! If I hadn't let Maria talk me into going with you that damn morning to the Central Park and forgave him after seeing those fucking eyes of a broken puppy, he probably wouldn't have lifted a finger to save Maria, kids and you!"
"I thought so too, so I shattered up his face, and we did a lot of shitty, sick things to each other, but believe me, it's not that simple. This fucking mess around us... is partly his fault, but not in the way we first assumed. He's still my brother… he's still our Bill."
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You were fed up with it all. All this drama that's going on around Russo. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better if they'd never called you in to stitch up that damn Marine and you'd never met him...
"I don't care, Frank. He hurt you. For money. He can go and keep selling himself like a whore." you say bitterly and walk past the man standing in the middle of your living room. You go to the bar and pour yourself a glass of something stronger.
"You can't be serious."
"I fucking am, Castle." you reply dispassionately, drinking the alcohol in a gulp. You pour yourself another glass and sit on the couch, watching the conflicted man in front of you.
"Come on. It's you and Billy. You always came back to each other. After every shit, big fight and breakup. Like a damn Ross and Rachel."
"For the last time I'm telling you, stop fucking watching Friends with Lisa and Maria, it's our show. Besides, this isn't damn Friends or any soap opera, Frankie. Billy fucked up. Ultimately. Nothing will change that, so just fuck off or accept it. God! You're taking our breakup worse than that cold bastard." you laugh bitterly and finish your glass. You set it down on the coffee table with a bang and run a hand through your hair. No. You won't get drunk again because of that damn asshole.
"Bullshit. He's a mess… I've never seen him like this."
"Do I look like I care?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow defiantly.
"You fucking liar, you couldn't stop loving him overnights."
You don't answer right away. He was right. You couldn't stop loving someone who was so deeply embedded in your soul, who saw all of you and became a part of your heart so easily... but loving Billy hurt you more than staying away from him. And for once in your life, you just want to feel at peace and be somewhat happy. Even without Bill by your side.
"If you want something, you better fucking say it or get the hell out." you say, not looking at him as your attention is drawn to your hands instead of the man standing in front of you.
He sighs, tightening his grip on the chair. You see his white knuckles, and for a moment, you think he's going to break the back of the chair. He sighs suddenly and relaxes his muscles, staring at you with a less angry look.
"I need your help."
This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)
You imagined your reunion with everyone a little worse. Maria and the kids were in a safe house outside the city, but it was nice to meet the rest of your old friends (in the case of the murder of the last of Rawllins' men, but hey, people talk about different things, right?) And it was really nice... until Billy returned to the apartment.
As soon as his dark-brown irises met yours, an unpleasant, awkward silence fell in the living room. You felt not only his gaze but also the curious gazes of the others as they glanced between the two of you.
"What the hell is she doing here?" he asks, shooting an angry, betrayed look at Frankie.
"Don't worry. I'll be gone as soon as I make sure the Castles are out of any danger. I don't really feel like seeing your face too." you say, giving him a defiant look. You turn your head away from him and towards Micro as quickly as you can.
Billy had dark circles under his eyes, a paler face than usual, and obvious signs of sleep deprivation. You'd care if he was more than just a piece of trash who betrayed people close to him. Yet you still cared.
However, the man does not give up easily. He walks over to you, stands in front of you, and takes your chin in his hand to make you look at him. If you didn't know better, you'd think you saw pain in that son of a bitch's eyes.
"You don't have to look at me from the hiding place where we put Maria and the kids, so get your pretty ass out of here and don't cause us any more troubles than we already have."
"How dare you talk about them after what you did?!" you growl at him in anger, pushing his hand away and standing up to face him. "All the trouble we're having is because you're a selling-out motherfucker who betrayed the only people in this world who fucking cared about you!"
Billy clenches his fists and takes a step towards you, leaning towards you. You both breathe quickly, shooting each other hostile glances, waiting to see who will break away and attack first. The tension in the room is so great that you can almost feel sparks flying between you. Frank quickly steps between the two of you, gives Billy a stern look and turns to face you.
"Save the lovers' quarrel and make-up sex for later, okay? Billy, Y/N is coming with us. Y/N, you're not trying to kill Billy until we do what we have to do, and it's best not to argue with him at all. Same with you, Bill. Can you do it, or are you resentful young brats who will be at each other's throats after a breakup?" he says, looking between you two. You huff, crossing your arms and staring at Castle.
"And since when did you become such a responsible asshole, Frankie?" you ask mockingly, raising an eyebrow in question.
"Since we've been planning a glorious murder at those, who tried to kill my family." you sigh and nod. He is right. Killing these bastards is your priority. You can't let your feelings for that asshole who still manages to get under your skin somehow complicate your already difficult mission.
"Fine. Just keep him away from me." you growl in anger and walk past Billy, elbowing him as you go to get ready for your 'mission' with the boys.
And if you looked over your shoulder, you would see a dark brown irises staring longingly at your retreat towards the armoury silhouette.
You find yourself at my door And just like all those times before You wear your best apology But I was there to watch you leave And all the times I let you in Just for you to go again Disappear when you come back Everything is better
A ring at your door at 2 a.m. should make you suspicious.
You should pretend to sleep and finish studying for the last exam that separates you from your desired diploma. You promised yourself that after completing your specialisation, you would leave the army and move to a state hospital. You were fed up with gunshots all around you. For now, you were well on your way to shedding your soldier's uniform and permanently donning a doctor's coat.
You were one exam away from your dreams... and one Billy goddamn Russo who was standing outside your door.
Before you could close it in his face, the man stuck his shoe between the door and the frame. You curse under your breath and open them again to meet this hot damn asshole on your doorstep.
"You shouldn't open the door at this hour without checking who's behind it." he starts, resting his hand on the door as if to make sure you won't shut it in his face again. Only now do you notice his bag slung over his shoulder. He must have come here straight from the airport as soon as he landed.
"A lesson for the future. What do you want?" you ask dryly, crossing your arms. He looks at you tiredly and sighs. The hand that isn't holding the door is combing through his hair. Dog tags hang from his neck as he bows his head slightly before looking back into your eyes.
"Please... I just want to talk." he pleads, wearing his best apologetic, kicked puppy look.
"We have nothing to talk about. Can you let go of my door now? I have an important exam tomorrow; I need to get some sleep." he smiles slightly. Reluctantly, you feel your chest warm up at that damn cute smile.
"Knowing you, honey, you probably weren't even going to go to sleep, just keep revising the material."
"What are you doing here? There were no more sheets of paper in Afghanistan? The poor postman used to come here with a bag full of letters from you. I felt bad sending them back just because of him."
"So… you haven't read any?" he asks, swallowing and staring at you with those damn eyes you would kill for someday.
"Why? I broke up with you before I left the unit. I was just your sexy doctor, right? Or maybe I'm distorting your words? I'm almost sure that's what you called me while bragging to your colleagues in the unit that you fucked the coldest and most unapproachable bitch from the base."
"These same colleagues saw me rage and fall apart as I was getting my letters back from you. I was the one of us, who was there to watch you leave." he responds to your accusations, and the pain in his eyes almost convinces you to throw yourself into his arms. But luckily, you remember the nights you spent crying because of the asshole in front of you.
"And I was the one who overheard that everything between us was some kind of fucking adventure for the time being until you get to another woman." you growl angrily, trying to slam the door on him, but his hand on it prevents you from doing so. He pushes himself inside your apartment and pins you to the wall, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. Loud enough to have your neighbours hear that.
"It's not true… what was between us… it was the only real thing I ever had in my damn life." he says with a shaky voice and you see tears forming in his eyes. "Neither of us expected what was between us to turn into something more than a few-month fling, but here I am, flitting around without you like a moth searching for the fucking light after spending years in the darkness, which was my life without you. I care about you. More than anything. More than I want to admit, more than I would like. That damn much that I would travel halfway around the world for you, I will grovel at your feet just to be fucking close to you."
You let your tears flow freely as you listened to his confession. You know what the man in front of you has been through—what demons of his past pursued him at every turn. And maybe it's his words; maybe it's those damn, tearful eyes that allowed you to see his vulnerability, hidden for so many years; or maybe you just can't live without him either...
Anyway, you grab his dog tags and pull him towards you for a passionate, tearful kiss as both of you realise one terryfing truth... You need each other.
"This is the last time, Russo." you whisper against his lips as he guides you towards your bedroom, stripping you of your clothes.
And right before your eyes I'm aching, run fast Nowhere to hide Just you and me
"What the fuck are you thinking you are doing?" you ask him angrily as he drags you by your elbow away from the shooting.
Things have gone a bit south. Frank didn't anticipate how much support the group we were supposed to kill would get, and now they cut off your group, and now you were forced to work with Billy to get out of here and kill the people you had to. A very mad Billy Russo in his stupid mask.
"I'm saving your ass. Stay here. I'll take care of the rest." he says, letting go of your elbow as he looks around the room.
"There's no fucking option. You won't play my hero, Russo." you say, and reload your gun.
"You won't distract me. You're staying here. End of discussion." he walks up to you and tries to grab the gun out of your hand. You struggle with him and use the grip he taught you to push him away. After a while, you aim your gun at him. You see a hint of fear in his eyes. You shoot, killing the guy standing in the doorway behind him.
"I'm not you. I don't kill my people." you growl at him in anger and move past him to drag the dead man inside and close the door. Billy is grateful for his mask... at least you can't see his shocked, pained expression.
He pulls up a chair and starts rummaging through the flap of the ventilation duct. During this time, you take the gun and bullets from the corpse.
"I would never kill the Castles." he says, not looking at you as he continues to open the vent. "They are my family... just like you."
"You haven't been my family for a long time." you snort at his seemingly tender words. You shiver when he suddenly jumps from the chair and pins you to the wall. Even from behind his mask, you can see how hurt and furious he is.
He holds your arms tightly, almost in a bruising embrace, as he whispers from under his mask so quietly that you can barely hear his words and his voice shaking with emotion.
"Everything... I've ever done... I've done for you. For us."
"There are no us, Russo." You growl in anger and push his arms off of you. You go to the air vent, but he grabs you by the waist and pulls you towards him. You fight him, even going so far as to rip off his mask, but he still holds you in a tight hug, staring into your eyes.
"I fucking love you; do you understand?! With my entire pathetic existence. I know that now you only see me as a monster and that my face is disgusting, but I can't... I can't lose you. Not you. I can endure everything—insults, your hatred... just... please... please don't leave me." he whispers desperately, cupping your cheek in one hand and resting his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, feeling tears welling up in them. You can't count how many times you cried because of that bastard in front of you.
"You think I care about your scars? I don't give a damn about them. What's keeping me away from you is your ugly inside, Russo. You don't care about anyone suffering as long as you profit from it. I'm disgusted by your personality and by the fact that you were willing to sell out your best friend's family and all the people who cared about you for goddamn money and fame. And I hate you, because somehow, even after all you've done, I still care about your damn ass."
His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly as you let him kiss the tears off your face as you almost fell apart in his hands, which you've missed for so long.
“Y/N, my heart, I swear I would never, ever hurt them. You have to believe me. I wouldn't risk what we have… I wouldn't risk losing you after having no one to care about for my whole messed-up life.”
And you're inclined to believe him. You are willing to forget everything and just accept him back. But then you hear a faint beeping sound. You both freeze, staring at each other.
Billy works fast. Too fast for you. He pushes you into the vent and closes the hatch behind you before you can do anything. After a moment, a quiet explosion echoes from the room below you, masking your frantic scream of his name.
This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)
Billy was not a good man. He knew it. He had no reason. Life never spoiled him, and everything he worked for he had to tear out with his nails. He had no reason to be good. But what he was about to allow now would seal who he was forever. There would be no turning back. And he knew it the moment he joined Castles in the Central Park.
He actually had nothing to lose. Y/N left him, and it would only be a matter of time before Frank would turn on him. He would be alone again. At least he would have guaranteed his future... however empty it might be. But he always believed that it was better to be depressed in an expensive sports car than anywhere else.
At least that's what he thought until he saw Y/N again, for the first time since their next big (this time final, which he deeply believed) breakup. And God, she was beautiful. More beautiful than ever.
She was wearing that little black floral dress that he loved, and she was joking about something with little Lisa as she dragged her through Central Park and the stands. Little Castle led her towards him.
Quiet: "Don't fuck it up, Uncle Bill." came from Frank Jr.'s mouth, before the kid disappeared, likely going to his father, who was probably already watching him. A young boy had to stop using such words. Maria would have his and Frank's heads for it.
Billy's eyes met yours. He gulped, watching as you walked up to him, and Lisa disappeared, probably going to the hideout where her parents were, watching him and Y/N. He clears his throat as you stand in front of him and gives you one of his practiced smirks... though he doubts he's acting as confident as he should be.
"Hi." he says quietly, staring at your face. His stupid heart beats like crazy as he completely forgot everything that wasn't you.
"Hi." you reply, playing with one of the rings on your finger—a nervous habit that he has despised since he felt the need to put HIS ring on you that you can play with and twirl on your finger when you feel insecure. "It was a long time."
"Indeed." he agrees and puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant. "You look beautiful, how are you?" he asks, as if he didn't have people positioned around you, to keep you safe and out of his troubles... the daily update about your life was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind after... losing you.
"All right. I got this job at the hospital." he knows. He himself made a transfer to the account of the hospital's head so that he would employ you there. Still, a smile appears on his face at the excitement in your eyes.
"I told you it was only a matter of time. You are the best surgeon in the USA."
"Well, I doubt Frank would agree with that." you laugh, and he can't help but join you. Frank was your test subject. A very grumpy test subject. Billy could never complain about being a little too strict or stitching it up too quickly at your beginnings. You were just perfect in his eyes.
"Don't listen to him, he is just a brat." he says, nudging your shoulder gently with his. And suddenly, you both stare at each other. You both linger on the other's lips for a moment longer.
"I missed you, Bill." you admit and his heart starts beating wildly.
He swallowed. No. He can't drag you into his shit. You would be better off without him... but as you stood in front of him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours that he would do anything for, he knew he had lost. And much sooner than he realised it.
He pulls you into his embrace. And when you wrap your arms around him, when you snuggle into his chest, and he inhales your scent, burying his nose in your hair, he knows he's home. He knows that he wants to feel this way forever and that life without you simply makes no sense to him anymore. And if he were anyone else, if he hadn't gone through all this shit in his life, he would have cried right there.
Instead, he pulls you closer to his chest, almost digging his fingers into your back, and whispers softly, his eyes closed tightly:
"This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore." he kisses your head, sealing his promise. He will burn the world for you. And nothing will stop him.
And as you sit next to him on the bench, across from the Castles, who are teasing you about how you two can't live without each other, he just smiles and texts his people to call off the action. Unbeknownst to you all, he declares war on Rollins, writing to him: "No one hurts my family. That's the end of the deal."
This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong This is the last time I say it's been you all along This is the last time I let you in my door This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho
You've been holding his hand since you returned to the Castles' house after his doctors examined him and patched him up. They didn't let you get to him. Something about an emotional attachment would cloud your judgement as a doctor. Stupid bullshit, but there was nothing you could do against Frank's strong grip as he held you in the hallway until you were allowed to carry him home. You're sure Castle had scratches from your nails when you tried to get away to go to Billy.
You shiver when Frank suddenly enters the room and hands you cup of tea. You take it from him without a word with one hand, and with the other, you still hold Billy, waiting for him to wake up. Frank snorts and sits down in the chair next to you, watching you closely.
"He'll get through this. Fortunately, he didn't set himself on fire, he just crashed into the opposite wall." you shiver, ignoring his words as you sip your tea. "Although I doubt he'll have any luck next time if you dump him again. Who knows what he'll do next time just for you to hold his hand."
"What the hell are you talking about?" you ask angrily, shifting your outraged gaze to him. He just shrugs.
"Do you think he let me give him those scars just like that? This is some form of his twisted compensation or punishment. The fact that he was hoping you would magically come get him and patch him up only encouraged him more to stay still as I smashed his face."
"You're fucked up. Both of you. No normal people would come back to being friends after something like that."
"We're all fucked up. Me, because I still see him as a brother. He, because he still wants to be part of my family. And you, who love him despite everything, but leave him at every possible opportunity." you turn your gaze away from him to Billy. He is right. And that hurts the most.
"Every time I promise myself it will be the last time. That I will never go back to him. That this is the last time he breaks my heart without even blinking. One last time I let him back into my life, but I… I just can't, Frankie… I can't leave him, no matter how much he destroys me."
"He thinks he's not worthy of you. That you deserve better." you huff bitterly, shaking your head, trying to fight away the tears.
"There is nothing for me apart from him." you whisper, staring blankly at your linked hands with Billy's. "Not after everything I've been through with him."
"Then stick with it. It's better to be fucked up together." you are laughing. It's not that simple, it never was… or maybe it was you who didn't want to make it such a simple thing.
"You should go to Maria and the kids." you say, wanting to get rid of him. You don't know what you feel. All you know is that you won't leave this room until those dark brown irises look back at you again.
"Will you stay with him?" he asks, and from the heavy atmosphere in the room, you feel like this question means more. He asks if you will stay forever. You lift your hand and gently run through Billy's short hair, observing what happened to him after the two of you were apart... and in fact, you weren't holding up any better than he was.
"Yes... yes I will." you whisper, never taking your eyes off his face. And you feel like something heavy has fallen off your chest. Months of crying, anxiety and apathy passed with the snap of a finger.
"I want to be godfather to your first. And for him to have Frankie as his second name if it's a boy."
"Fuck you, Castle." you say and throw a spare pillow at him. The man laughs as he leaves. He closes the door behind him and you look at the unconscious Billy.
"This is the last time, Russo. I mean that. Don't fuck it up." you whisper and kiss your joined hands.
This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye This is the last time I'm asking you this (This is the last time I'm asking you this) Put my name at the top of your list (Put my name at the top of your list) This is the last time I'm asking you why (This is the last time I'm asking you why) You break my heart in the blink of an eye (You break my heart) This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this
The gentle brushing of your hair is the first thing you feel when you wake up. Another is his tight grip on your hands, as if he's afraid you're just a product of his head high on painkillers. You raise your head slowly. His hand slips from your hair and rests hesitantly on your cheek.
"Hello." he whispers, staring at you. And for a moment, you just stay like that, each drinking in the sight of the other.
And your heart breaks when you see him waiting for the moment when you start screaming at him, when you take away the closeness he missed so much.
So against your better judgement and what you should do, you lean in and kiss him sweetly, cupping his cheek in your hand. You caress one of his worst scars with the pad of your thumb as he responds to your kiss. His hands stay stiffly in place as he's afraid to move, lest he disturb this moment between you, to feel your lips as long as possible.
You pull away from him and rest your forehead against his. You close your eyes, catching your breath. You feel his burning, confused gaze on you, but you don't move. You don't say anything. You just sit there, enjoying his touch and his closeness, not thinking about the conversation you need to have.
"I missed… I missed this." he whispers shakily. You feel him burning with the desire to taste your lips one more time, but he maintains some semblance of control and settles for just moving the hand that isn't cupping your cheek to your waist.
"Me too."
"I know I screwed up. But… I will never… never again…" you kiss him again, interrupting him. You brush away the tears that fall down his cheek with your thumbs and gently brush your nose against his as you end your kiss.
"Shhh... I know." you whisper, straddling him, needing to feel him as close to you as possible after everything that happened. You were both shattered, but maybe you could put each other back together?
"Are you sure?" he asks, swallowing. You nod and bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. He strokes your back slowly, drawing patterns with his fingertips under your blouse. You shiver at the feeling of his touch on your skin.
"This is the last time, Russo. Either we succeed or... it's over. And I mean it. There will be no great quarrels and returns, no appearances on the doorstep of the other at midnight. We'll either be honest with each other... and make it work... or we won't be together at all. You understand? We're at the top of each other's lists, or not at all. I don't want anything less, any toxic love, any blaming each other, and all that bullshit. We take each other and try to do something with us, or we end it."
He nods and pulls you closer to him, digging his fingers into your back, anchoring you to his chest.
"Deal. I hope you know, you just stuck with me forever, because I'm not leaving you." you lift yourself gently from his chest to look at him. Your eyes water as your eyes meet and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to fully express your feelings to him.
"Just... don't make me ask you this again... don't hurt me. Please."
Billy pulls you into a tender kiss, showing you all the love and devotion he has for you. Trying with your actions to ensure that this time will be different, that you will never suffer because of him again, that you will never run away from each other again, that you will never watch the other one leave again.
"I'm nothing without you. Trust me. I tried to live without you and look how it ended." he jokes, and in any other situation you wouldn't find it funny, but now, fueled by the high of being with him again, you giggle stupidly into his neck. Billy smiles fondly and strokes your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"Break my heart again, and it will end worse for you. I have connections in the mortuary, Russo." he huffs, undeterred, and pulls you closer.
"Please. As if you didn't fly across two states just to stitch my face together because you didn't believe in the competence of the doctors at the hospital." you blush as you realizes that he knew about your moment of weakness after you found out what happened to him after his fight with Frank.
"How did you know?"
"I'd know your stitches anywhere." he says with a shrug and pulls you in for a kiss.
Maybe this really was the last time after all… and this time you will stitch the scattered pieces of both of you together for good.
#billy russo x reader#billy russo#billy russo x female reader#william russo#billy russo fanfic#the punisher#marvel#toxic love#breakup#return#fools in love#romance#lovers#making up#billy x reader#billy russo x you#kasagia#billy russo oneshot#oneshot#fighting#frank castle#maria castle#castles family
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Love is a Labor
Fandom: Joy Ride
Pairings: Rusty Nail x Single Mother reader
Word count: 2,127
Warnings: None
Author's note: This is for @umnitsa who had asked for a second part of A Chance at New Beginnings and have it be fluff (sorry I couldn't expand on the further part of that request this was where my brain went). Have some soft, domestic Rusty.
Tagging: @tinalbion
“Are you really sure about this?” The question came for what had to be the fifteenth time in the last hour. It was coming from a place of good intentions, that much was well known. But after so many times, that raw nerve of irritation was starting to flare.
“Yes. The answer isn't going to change. It hasn't yet, and it won't.” Your friend sighed beside you, still not convinced that this was anything other than a bad idea. A fact that had also been aired out several times over the last two days. Ever since you announced the plans to meet up with Rusty. This time with Michael in tow.
“I just…I got a bad feeling about this guy. You've met him once, talked to him, what? Three times? And now you are going to meet him with your kid?” All good and valid points. You were thankful for the concern and the worry. It meant that she cared. What she didn't know? You had been talking with Rusty almost nightly for the past month. Yeah, you had only met with him once up until now. Maybe it was a little silly, but his presence had made you feel safe, far safer than anyone else in your life had ever managed. He had already proven himself good with Michael. So why not? Did it feel a little like a rebound after what you had gone through with your ex? Slightly. But that wasn't the point. Rusty was kind, patient, and caring. You considered him a good friend. The attraction that you had to the man that had seemingly ignited out of nowhere was just a side point.
“I get you're worried, and I appreciate it. I really do. But there isn't anything to be worried about, okay? It's not like I'm going to meet up with him at some motel. We are meeting in a public place. You know where I'll be, and there are going to be plenty of other people around.”
“I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?" It wasn't defeat in her voice but awful close to it.
“Not a chance.” You leaned in and gave your friend a hug. “Everything's going to be just fine, okay? I know it.” The huff that came from her told you all that you needed to know; she didn't believe a word that you had said and was still going to panic over the entire thing. If it wasn't, well, she would get to say I told you so. Michael appeared in the doorway, wearing a grin and tucking his truck into the little backpack he carried everywhere.
“Come on, mom.” There hadn't been this sort of impatience about him before. It was endearing and solidified your choice in this whole thing. “If we're late, we might miss him.”
“We aren't going to miss him, I promise.” You scooped your son up into your arms and smiled. “Got everything?” He nodded.
“You two be careful, okay?”.
“We will be. Let's get going then.” You got Michael's shoes on and tucked him up in his jacket before heading out the door and to the agreed meeting spot. Location services on your phone turned on as per the request of your friend and current roommate.
Okay, so the meeting spot wasn't exactly largely full of people. You had opted for a park. Still a little dangerous, yes, but you truly weren't worried. Besides, it gave Michael open space to play and be away from the man if he did feel uncomfortable. He was four after all, being cramped into a coffee shop, or something of the like wasn't fair. The weather was nice enough, just on the right side of chilly and clouds provided just enough cover where the sun wasn't constantly beaming down into eyes. You had settled on a bench, letting Mike play with the trucks that he brought in the sand not too far off.
“Excuse me, that seat taken?” The low, gravelly voice was one you could recognize in your sleep by now.
“Well, I was saving it for someone,” you offered back, looking up at the towering figure with a grin. You couldn't entirely see his face from how he was standing, hat keeping half of his face shielded. “But, I guess I could offer it. You seem like a nice man.”
“Very kind of you.” Rusty moved to settle on the bench beside you. Not close enough that he was pressed against your side but enough that you could feel the heat radiating from the man. A pleasant feeling. “How are you doing today, darling?”
“I'm good. How are you?” He looked tired. Had he come right from the road here? You wouldn't have been surprised. From your understanding, he lived further south on a nice quiet piece of land. It sounded like a little slice of heaven, if you could be honest. That felt like too much to say to the man, though, so it was a thought you kept to yourself. His eyes found you before flicking briefly to Michael.
“Got nothing to complain about.” Michael looked up and saw the man sitting beside you, and all else was immediately forgotten about, trucks abandoned in the sand to run over to you both.
“Are you Rusty?” Rusty leaned forward just a little bit, elbows resting against his knees.
“I am. You must be Michael.” Your son beamed at the recognition, lightly bouncing on his feet.
“Do you really drive a big truck?” Rusty chuckled softly at the eager question that came. Thankfully, he didn't seem bothered that Michael had launched right into the questioning. Others may have been.
“I do. Even drove it here. If your ma says it's, we can go look at it.” Michael's eyes widened almost impossibly large before his head whipped to you.
“Can we mom? Please?” He had never been in a real truck before. You could hear your friends voice screaming in your head about how terrible an idea it was, but at the same time, you truly felt no danger from the man and trusted that everything would be safe. There was also a worry that if you denied his request, the poor boy might just have spontaneous combust. There was a risk of that happening, too, with you agreeing. But it was a far better risk.
“Of course, but you have to listen to everything he says, okay? I don't want you getting hurt because you are so excited.”
“I promise.”
“No better time than now. Whatcha think, big man?” Michael was ecstatic, and the yes that came was both enthusiastic and loud. “Go get your stuff, and we'll go look at my truck.” If it had been a cartoon, there would have been burn marks trailing behind him. You couldn't help the small laugh and fond shake of your head. Your son was something else.
“I think you might have made his year.” He was leaning back, and before you knew it, his arm was around your shoulders. Heavy but fully pleasant. A sensation that you could get used to quickly.
“Now I just need to find out how to make yours.” The flirting tease had heat rising to your cheeks. There wasn't a quick response to that, and the floundering surely had to be clear to him. His warm breath ghosted over your cheek as his lips briefly pressed to the skin. “That blush is mighty cute, darling.” Yeah, he absolutely had you there. However, Michael came running back over and cut off anything else that might have been said. Standing up, you took the tiny hand that was held out to you. Though, you didn't move since Michael hesitated just a second before reaching his other out to Rusty.
Your heart melted as he didn't seem to take even a second to think about it. His large hand dwarfed Michael's, more so than your own. Then, the three of you were off to his truck.
Finding parking for the rig clearly hadn't been easy since it was a bit of a walk to where he had left it. Not that it seemed to matter all that much as your son's excitement filled the silence and the distance.
“You said it was black, right? Why black?” As soon as Rusty would finish answering one, another would come. “Does it have a really loud horn?” And so on it went until you came to the rig. You knew almost nothing about trucks, but the monster of a truck seemed to fit the man with you in an odd way. Rusty knelt down, letting go of Michael's hand.
“All right. Now, I know you promised your ma that you were going to listen. And we don't lie to ma, right?” Michael nodded, staring intently at the man. “Good. Now, I'm gonna have to pick you up to get in. I don't want you climbing yourself, trying to get in or out. It's a long way up, and you could get hurt if you do fall. I need you to hold on real tight. Can you do that?” Michael glanced at you, wanting the reassurance it seemed. There was a bit of that shy nature coming out.
“It’s okay, buddy.” Rusty waited patiently, his eyes not leaving Michael this time. “You don't have to if you don't want to, but if you want to see the inside of the truck, Rusty has to carry you up.”
“It's up to you.” Rusty backed up the fact that no one was forcing him to do anything that he didn't want to do. A few more seconds passed before Michael finally nodded.
“Okay.” His curiosity and eagerness about the truck had trumped the shyness.
“All right. Let me go get it unlocked and opened up, okay?” He pushed back up and moved off to his truck after shooting you a smile. You reached out to take the backpack from your son, kneeling down beside him to help soothe any of the nerves that he still had going on.
“This is exciting! Getting to go into a truck like that.” He nodded, eyes moving from the truck to you and back. “Everything's going to be okay.” Finally, a smile came to his face. That was more what you wanted to see. Rusty came wandering back over.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.” He knelt down so that Michael could come to him, lifting him up only when your son had wrapped his arms around the man's neck. You followed right alongside them, unable to help yourself from grinning as more excitement came forth from Michael. “Why don't you get in from the other side?” He suggested with a smile, one hand holding your son to him securely, the other wrapped around the grab handle. Nodding, you did just as suggested and moved to the other side of his truck, having to climb up a step before even opening the door.
“Wow…” Rusty was already settled into the driver seat, letting Michael look around at everything. From the wheel to the mirror and beyond. He was behaving well, not touching anything. Rusty shifted him so he was more seated in his lap.
“Go on, you can take a hold of the wheel, big man.” The gleeful laugh that came from him had the both of you smiling. His hands looked small against the wheel. In that moment, you reached for your phone to snap a picture, not even thinking to ask if the man would mind. It was just a moment that you wanted to capture.
“This is so cool.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” Carefully, once Michael had his fill, Rusty set him to the side and motioned for him to head into the back of the cab, where a little bed was set up. It allowed him to explore the small space.
“Hope you don't mind me taking a picture…”
“Not at all, darling. Ya wanna see him get really excited?” Your cheeks actually hurt so much from smiling. It was the most that you had done since leaving the better part of three months ago. “Hey, Michael. You wanna honk the horn?” Michael scrambled back to the front so quickly that he nearly tripped and landed face first into the shifter. Rusty had managed to catch him just in time.
“Easy there, buddy. Don't need your first ride here to be a trip to the ER.” It was a bit astounding how good he was with your son, but you couldn't have asked for more in that moment. Nothing about this had been a mistake. And it wouldn't be moving forward with whatever happened to come between you and this man.
#horror writing#slasher writing#slasher x reader#slasher x you#rusty nail x reader#rusty nail joyride#rusty nail#joyride fic#joyride
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Of the DC comics you've read so far, what would be your top recommendations for people to check out/what have you enjoyed the most?
when i tell you i have been thinking about this all day- i have been thinking about this. all. day.
so disclaimer, as of writing this, i have only read 31 runs from start to finish and 18 arcs/events outside of those runs. on top of, everything i've read so far has been strictly robin-centric, so dick, jason, tim, and damian. (i have read all of steph's robin appearances lol, but i haven't gotten to reading material for her, like say batgirl 2009, yet.) i've also decided not to rec from any run i'm currently reading, so for example, you won't see any batman: gotham knights recs here. because i'm most well-read on the robins, i'm only going to rec for them.
also, i'm going to operate under the following assumption: you've got a basic knowledge of the robins. none of these are where i would necessarily recommend anyone start reading about the boys, but i do think they'd be pretty interesting if you're already somewhat familiar with them and don't want to commit to reading whole character backlogs. does that make sense? i hope that makes sense.
alright, let's do this!
DICK GRAYSON
oh god. this one is actually so hard because he has so much great stuff, but then also i have like a love/frustrate relationship with so much of it. like for instance, i really enjoyed The New Teen Titans, but also lowkey can't stand space adventures so whenever that went down i was like 😀👍. but okay. hmmmm.
i have two preboot recs, with explanations + caveats.
devin grayson's mob!dick arc, so Nightwing 1996 #99-100, 107-117. caveats: it doesn't really get to finish playing out/wraps up weird because of editorial changes/infinite crisis. but!! it's a super interesting look at how dick handles...failure. how he values himself in light of that failure.
tomasi's run, but specifically #147-153. (listen, i love the dick and tim moments in 'freefall' but the whole eternally pregnant lady thing was too weird.) this is classic, hyper-competent dick, okay? he's such a bad-ass. and an idiot- bro literally flops his severely injured ass over the bars of his glider and rides it UNCONSCIOUS back to the batcave. i can't with him. poor alfred. anyways, he deals with two-face, always a good time. and then at the end, as a treat, he cries because bruce is dead. so fun!! what was my caveat here? oh yeah, he has a girlfriend. i don't remember her name, she serves like...very little purpose, the whole relationship is very minor/background okay, but like it was so unnecessary. he can be single, dc, it's okay.
for post re-boot, just read tom taylor's run!! it's the best thing ever!! zero complaints!!
HA. yeah, just kidding. that run is very like/frustrate for me lol. oh man i'm struggling here. it's not all bad okay, i'm just really picky, and i haven't re-read any nightwing n52 and onwards since my first foray into comics (8 months ago) so my memories of these are the foggiest and i'm not sure how i feel about all of it in light of what i've read now. yk what, i'm just going to...not rec anything. sorry!!
JASON TODD
his comics either go so hard or they're absolute ass, why is there no in between. istg, i can't figure out why writers struggle with him so much?? well. i mean, i do have theories. but you didn't ask for those!
pre-boot:
detective comics #569-574. robin!jason in the hands of writers who like him is so much fun. which, don't get me wrong, i don't flat-out hate how starlin writes him, but i think you get a more well-rounded view of jason as robin when you also see him in 'tec. jason and bruce tangle with the joker, scarecrow, + mad hatter, and all of those adventures are...idk if they were intentional foreshadowing okay, but reading those and knowing where the story goes? oof. especialllllly #574. caveat: #572 is pretty light on jason, but he is great when he's on panel!
reboot:
probably a very basic answer but rhato rebirth (2016) #1-13, annual #1. i abhorred n52 rhato so i almost skipped rhato rebirth since it was still written by lobdell, but i'm really glad i didn't. i really enjoy jason's relationship with bizarro + artemis, but especially with bizarro because i think jason struggles a lot with feeling like a doomed creation, so yk, parallels. i want to say more but i know i'll get too wrapped up in discussing jason so i'm just going to stop myself.
i actually really enjoyed task force z, too. i think about tfz #8 so much, jason is such a manipulative little shit and i love it. he's so- i can't. i can't get into this rn, it deserves its own post(s).
overall for jay, i need people to read something other than utrh/lost days/b:ul 1-6. i love those, i do, but they aren't the only good pieces of jason content!!
TIM DRAKE
MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!!! in my heart of hearts, i just want to rec his whole robin run lmao. dick was my intro, okay, he is why i decided to start reading comics, but tim, specifically his robin solo is why i'm still reading comics. hooked me fr. and young justice 1998, ugh love. but it has been a minute since i read these as well, so hmm. okay okay okay
pre-boot:
batman: prodigal. short version, tim is robin to dick's batman. super fun. there's a solid amount of dick and bruce angsting too, which, love. tim is honestly just thrilled that jpv is out of the batsuit and even happier to working with dick. very cute.
robin #46. listen. they're all superheroes okay, they all feel pressure to save people. but tim...losses get to him. the amount of times that he gets shoved to a breaking point and then...gets back up. keeps going. *screams*. anyways!! this is not tim getting back up, okay? this is him being shoved way, way down. it's so good.
teen titans 2003 #20. tim's dad has died. he shows up for his weekend at the tower anyways. he is not okay. that's it, that's the pitch. i did not like...mmm at least 80% of this run okay, but a few of the issues HIT and this was one imo.
reboot:
*deep sigh*. look. tim is not tim for like basically all of n52, although there are moments here and there were he feels like himself. i did not like his 2023 solo, the best parts of young justice 2019 imo are the character designs, (except for his drake costume, what was that omg), and i haven't read any rebirth batman/'tec yet. except for zdarsky's run. which. tim is good there! but yeah, not really a whole lot of material to work with + very limited reading experience atm.
DAMIAN WAYNE
god, i love this kid. nature vs. nurture fascinates me, and so much of his story digs into that on top of trying to figure out who he is apart from all of that. i will say, i'm not a huge talia fan and by that i mean, i have no idea who she is "supposed" to be, like i have no frame of reference for that atm, so if you are a huge talia fan these recs might not hit for you because from what i've observed from her fans she is not well portrayed a whole lot since becoming his mother? i think one of the things that is normal is dick absolutely disliking her though, which cracks me up. there's this older batman story (batman #322-335) where bruce works with talia and dick goes running to selina and i was so entertained. what were we talking about? oh! damian!
preboot:
batman and robin 2009 #10-12. damian is struggling, with a lot of things. the fact that bruce might be alive, what that means for him and dick, and his mother's puppeteering. there's this line that kills me: "can't you just love me for who i am? not what you want me to be?" and the thing that gets me, is the use of who vs. what. because he could have said, "not who you want me to be", but he doesn't
reboot:
batman: shadow war. this is post-alfred's death, and honestly, most damian stuff post city of bane is pretty juicy, but there's this specific moment in shadow war: alpha #1 that had me speechless. just like 😧 i love bruce, but that man has some of the most chronic foot-in-mouth disease. oh but fair warning, for whatever reason they don't draw dami's mask connecting?? it's so- it drives me nuts.
JUST FOR FUN
these are just two issues that i enjoy for the brother content!
nightwing 1996 #25. dick and tim's relationship makes me ILL. *ahem*. this issue is mostly just super cute and fun, (there's like 0.2 seconds of angst when tim asks dick if he ever thinks about jason 😭) and i adore it sm. fun fact, it's actually one of the first comics i ever bought!
batman 2016 #16. unfortunately, tim is not here for this, but duke is! jason and damian's interactions in the background of bruce's Very Serious Speech are excellent. bruce is so dramatic and his kids are so unserious.
what i've most enjoyed
i've enjoyed the majority of what i've read, even titles/events i wasn't particularly looking forward to but had on my tbr for whichever character. i'm going to break down most enjoyed into two catergories, arcs that i loved top to bottom and then the guilty pleasures. this is not an exhaustive list, just what immediately came to mind.
top to bottom
bruce wayne: murderer?/fugitive. shocker, ik. but it's just, it's just so frickin good. i've said before, and i'll say it again, gotham war could NEVER. this right here is peak batfamily drama. the tension? the mystery? the angst? i knew nothing going into this okay, and truth be told, when i started it i was like "oh joy. another event." because i was just trying to read the 1996 nightwing run, but i'd committed to reading in full all the events it crossed over with. but i was invested so quickly. and like, i loved how the narrative supported the possibility that bruce was the murderer, because like, you know there's no way, but the more that comes out the more damning it is, and so you're like really dying to know what actually happened and i feel like the reveal was satisfying.
batman: city of bane. i'm going to cautiously put this here, because there might have been something i didn't like but i cannot recall it for the life of me right now. something about me is i love when the heroes lose. infinity war, empire strikes back? love. and ik bruce takes back gotham, but they lose alfred, okay, they lost. i also didn't expect to like this arc, i decided to read it because i wanted to know how alfred died. and first of all, i was shocked, even though i knew it was coming because i expected it to like happen towards the end. but nope. just *snap*. and then later when bruce is back in the manor and is confronted with alfred's body and his good-bye message? oh. my. god. i was bawling. despite my penchant for sad narratives, i don't tend to cry that much, but this got to me so bad. like i had to pause because i couldn't see. amazing.
red robin. his cowl is so ugly, but i really do love the run. i see a lot of discourse about it and also a lot of...interesting fanfic takes, so i don't really talk about it a lot here because it feels like most people are kind of tired of hearing about this run, which fair. i really enjoyed it as a sequel to his solo robin run. tbh, i almost put this in the guilty pleasure catergory, because there are a couple things i don't totally love, but like if the others are 10/10, this is 9/10.
young justice 1998. i love this comic so, so much. i don't even know what to say, i get so overwhelmed with joy when i think about this comic. nothing has hit the same way with this group since either, which is a crime. i need a title with this team so badly.
guilty pleasures
these are all runs/events i know some/most? people cannot stand and i totally get why, and i have problems with them, so i'm probably never going to rec them in good conscience but also like i can't lie and say i don't like them. these are not recs, okay? okay.
robin war. is it a hot mess? yes. but there is not a whole lot of canon content out there with all the boys working together, okay? so much of that event had me banging my head into a wall, but for me, there were a handful of pearls in there. i mean honestly, if i listed out pros and cons the cons list would be way longer but those pros are very precious to me.
batman and robin: eternal. very similar reasoning overall to robin war. plus cass finally came back!! i missed her. i love robin!dick and batman content, and the kids working together. this is probably my least favorite guilty pleasure though, okay, it's on thin ice.
grayson. listen, i love janin's art sm. i'm pretty neutral about spy stuff, so like i don't engage with it a whole lot. meaning, although i've heard it's tropey af in regards to the genre, i'm not familiar enough with the genre to be like trying to dig my eyeballs out with blunt spoons at the cliche of it all. the constant sexualization of dick got old super fast, and her name may have been helena but she wasn't- my list of dislikes is lengthy. but idk, i had fun with it. and imo it does have some genuinely great moments, i love dick in the desert with the baby, the ache i felt when dick wanted to come home and couldn't get ahold of bruce, issue #12 stabs me in the heart- the dick and dami reunion? stoppppp. i feel like this run and the ric grayson era are dick's most out there lmao
so yeah!! thank you so much for this ask, i had sm fun answering it. if you have any recs for me, feel free to drop them :)
#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#nightwing#red hood#red robin#robin#dc comics#i almost included a fave panel from each rec but i didn't want the post to be even longer#cue answers#anon asks
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| you can do it, love | (dokyeom)
"babe, please please just come to the gym with me?" dokyeom asks, batting his best puppy dog eyes at you.
you're bundled under the comforter in the hotel bed, the mattress having been molded perfectly to your body. you are incredibly comfy and leaving doesn't seem in the cards for you. you've never understood how your boyfriend could always have so much energy. he had a busy schedule all day and within the first hour we are back in the hotel room he wants to go down to the gym.
"i don't think you understand how comfortable this bed is" you speak back, digging your head into the fluffy pillow. you see him huff and cross his arms from the corner of your eye, pouting like a little kid not getting his way.
he juts his bottom lip out even further, really pushing the puppy thing "i want to spend time with you. i barely got to see you today" he says, pulling at your heartstrings.
it was true, after all. and you did miss him too. you sigh, giving in to his request. "fine, i'll come. but i'm staying in my pajamas" you pout, mimicking his crossed arms.
"you're the best" he smiles, getting up from his spot and coming over to leave a soft kiss on your nose.
"i know" you mumble, dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed. you giggle as he takes your arm and pulls you out of the door, bringing you down the hallway to the elevator.
he skips down the hallway, clearly letting out his sudden burst of energy. once you reach the elevator he steps back behind you, saying "after you malady", extending his arm and bowing like a gentleman. you turn around to face him, doing your most exquisite curtsy along with a "thank you, sir". as you are down in the curtsy, fully committed to the bit you hear the elevator ding and the doors open. you hear dokyeom snort, and you look up at him to see him looking past you. you turn around to see a woman in the elevator, confused as to why a weird girl was in a curtsy right in front of the doors.
"sorry, she's a werido" he mumbles, slipping past you and into the elevator. you stumble in before the doors close, and to your surprise the woman isn't getting off yet. you back into the corner and bring your hoodie over your head in embarrassment, elbowing dokyeom as you blame him for the situation. he shrugs innocently, looking forward as you both stand in an awkward silence until your stop. once the doors open to the lobby you quickly walk out.
"you are an idiot" you state matter of factly, pushing his chest playfully and walking ahead of him. you don't make it very far before you feel his arms wrap around you from behind. he gets a good grip on you and turns you around in his arms, pulling your hoodie down so he can see your face. your cheeks are still red from the attention, and he kisses each one.
"i'm sorry baby" he chuckles, still obviously amused. you don't care anymore though, mirroring his infectious smile. he takes your hand in his as you walk to the gym, swinging them back and forth. he opens the door for you, letting you walk in first, a habit he never forgets no matter where you guys are. as you walk in you hear him yell from behind,
"wooo lets go!!" his voice echoing off the walls. you facepalm your forehead as you notice someone is in here before he does.
"hi!" the person calls out, having a friendly answer to your loud, disruptive boyfriend.
"hi" dokyeom calls out, getting shy after he realizes you guys weren't alone.
"that was awkward" he mumbles to you, his cheeks getting flushed as he walks to the other side of the gym.
"now we're even babe" you joke.
he sits down on one of the machines, smiling at you as you sit down on the ground in front of him. he knows you have no intention of doing anything here, but he just wanted your company. you watch him as he gets comfortable, wondering if he's really going to get any working out done or if he's just going to joke around the whole time. you see him looking down at you and smiling, as if theres been some joke that you're not a part of.
"what?" you ask innocently, confused. your eyebrows furrow as you wait for his response.
"nothin" he smiles with a shrug. "i just really missed you today" he admits.
"oh" you blush shyly, "i missed you too" you smile back at him.
"good" he answers, leaning back to lift the weights.
you watch him intently as his arm muscles flex with the weight, being fully exposed in his sleeveless shirt. he's gained a lot of muscle over the last couple of months, and it's been driving you wild. he does a few reps, sitting back up fully once he's finished. you always love spending time with him like this. you guys don't always need to be talking, and you can sit in a comfortable silence. it's just nice to know the other person is there.
"i wanna try" you say, curious as to if you could do it.
"yeah?" he asks amusingly, raising an eyebrow.
you nod rapidly, genuinely excited to try. he smiles at you endearingly as he notices the ambition in your eyes. he gets up from the machine and lets you trade places with him. he's not underestimating you, knowing that you should be able to do at least one or two reps with the weight he has on. he knows how you can do anything you put your mind to. he loves that about you.
he stands in front of you, helping you position your arms in the correct way. you use all your strength to push up the weights, feeling the tension in your arms. you manage to do one rep, but know you can do more. you make it to two reps before having to give up, feeling a little embarrassed as you thought you could do more. but dokyeom is standing there smiling at you like an idiot, finding you amazing. you could do anything and he would be proud of you, something that is hard to find now and days.
"good job, baby girl" he says encouragingly, the pet name rolling of his tongue and giving you butterflies with the way he said it. you smile back, and he leans down to peck your lips. after you pull away you place your hands on his shoulders, and he squats down so he's at your height. he raises an eyebrow at your serious face before you say,
"oh god, are we one of those weird gym couples?"
he laughs, throwing his head back at your words. you smile as the corner of his eyes crinkle.
"yes" he says, placing his hands on your shoulders as well. you giggle back at him, knowing that it's the truth.
"what now?" you ask, shrugging. he stays squatting before you, putting his hands on your thighs. he just thinks you look so adorable right now, not being able to pinpoint why in particular. he loves the way you are wearing his hoodie, and how it's way too big for you. he loves that you really did in fact wear your pajama pants down here; Christmas ones in the middle of the summer nonetheless. he taps your thigh before surprising you and picking you up. you squeal and wrap your legs around his waist, making sure you don't fall. he walks over to the mirror and the mats and places you down on one gently.
"push ups" he replies, getting on the floor as well.
"ooo yay" you reply, liking the idea of watching that. he goes to get in position but you stop him.
"wait!" you say touching his arm, "as a weird gym couple you already know what has to be done" you say devilishly. you slide underneath him and lay on the ground. he shakes his head at you with a chuckle, understanding what you mean. he removes his knees from the ground and gets in a plank position. he slowly lowers himself down into a push up, hovering over you with his lips millimeters away.
"if you wanted a kiss, you could have just said so baby" he smirks against your lips, giving you butterflies as he connects his with yours.
he pulls himself back up into a plank, watching you as your cheeks turn red. he does another pushup, this time leaving a kiss on your forehead. as he rises back up, you cup his face, wanting a real kiss. you pull him back down and kiss him, feeling him smile into the kiss. he sits on the ground next to you when you pull away.
"my turn" you say happily, feeling confident you can do a good pushup.
"alright show me what you've got baby" he says, laying down in the same position you were previously.
you position yourself over him, getting in a plank. you know it's not looking good for you when your arms are already shaking, making you noticeably wobble. he smiles up at you as he studies your face of concentration. your tongue is sticking out slightly, and your eyebrows are furrowed and tight. he knows you can do it, wanting to help you out.
"you can do it, love" he says sweetly, reaching up to hold your hips lightly, giving you some relief from holding yourself up. he keeps his hands on your hips as you lower your arms and do a push up the best you can.
he knows that he was holding up most of the weight for you, but he doesn't want you to know. he just wants to see your smile as you come back up, proud of yourself for how well you did. god, he would frame that smile if he could. you push back up, smiling just as he predicted. he smiles back at you, knowing already that you are going to try for a second one. you lower yourself down for another one, but once you get down you know theres no chance in hell you're getting back up. your arms shake one last time before you just let yourself collapse onto him. he chuckles at you, wrapping his arms around you.
"i swear i could have done it" you whine grumpily into his chest, suddenly very tired. he brings his hand up to your head and cradles it, rubbing your back with his other hand.
"i know you could have, sweetheart" he replies. you both just stay there laying on the gym floor. as you predicted, not very much working out went on, but you think you both needed this much more.
#dokyeom fluff#dokyeom imagines#dokyeom#svt dk#lee seokmin#dokyeom fanfic#dokyeom x reader#seventeen#dk#svt seokmin#seokmin fluff
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I wanted to ask, in the kids turned sparkling au, Starscream was teaching Miko how to be the next winglord. Assuming he lived after Predacons Rising, or died and came back like Optimus, would she still treat him like a secondary parent, and eventually become winglord?
Ah yes Starscream.
Previous part here.
━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━
The matter of Starscream was one Tari did not like to consider. She had memories of Starscream trying to kill her when she was still Miko, but she also had recollections of a time when things were better. She remembered Starscream carrying her through the skies, letting her small wings flutter with the currents before she had learned to fly. She could still recall when he'd held her in his arms, telling her tales of Vos and the glory of the city he proclaimed would one day be hers. She had listened with such intent that even as a fully framed adult, she couldn't help but sometimes wonder if he was still out there, and if he still cared.
She was happy being a Wrecker, and she was happy being away from her family, even if she missed them at times. But as she aged, she felt a void within her, one that was for once, not caused by the loss of her Sire. She remembered stories of the great city that even after Cybertron's restoration, was not again floating in the sky. Starscream had always said that it was the duty of all fliers to watch over their city, to protect it, and to ensure that all who followed after them would have a place to call home.
Tari remembered, and so she decided to act.
Before Optimus's return, she set out on a journey across the stars. Her goal was simple: Find Starscream and get him to help her restore Vos. Sure, he might have been a Decepticon, but her memory painted him as a far more reasonable mech than some of the Autobots she dealt with on a regular basis. And without her Sire? Well... maybe digging up a few old memories would do something good for her aching spark.
It was far easier than she expected to find Starscream, although it hurt to track him down. He was hidden on Earth, her world of origin (a fact she will only begrudgingly admit). When she found him, he was wrapped up in his plans to get back at everyone and everything. She took him by total surprise, and their first meeting was by no means the one she had been hoping for. Starscream didn't recognize her, all he saw was her Wrecker badge.
Tari: Starscream! Hold your fire! I come in peace!
Starscream: An Autobot comes in peace? HA! As if I would believe that!
Tari: My designation is Sagittarius, Tari for short. Don't you remember me?
Starscream: A flier named after this mudball's constellations? How the mighty have fallen.
Tari and Starscream shot at each other for a while, and in the end, Tari had to hunt him down several times over the course of a few months. It was due to this hunt that she ended up with Bumblebee and his team on Earth for a time. She needed the extra guns to get into the Decepticon base on Earth where Starscream was supposedly hiding out. Her adventures with Bumblebee and his team were a whole other series of shenanigans. But in the end, she got her prize.
"Well Autobot? You've caught me. Are you going to kill me now?"
"No, I want you to talk to me. Please, just take a moment and remember me Starscream. I've already lost Optimus, I don't want to lose the only other bot that came even close to being my Sire."
"..."
"..."
"Mistress of the Terran skies. That was your full designation... wasn't it?"
Silence reigned over the duo for a time as Tari led Starscream out in cuffs. He would still need to answer for his crimes... but she would do all she could to lessen the sentence. For once, he went along without argument and allowed Tari to take him back to Cybertron to face justice. Seeing her reminded him of what he had been hoping for all those years ago when the war still raged. He had all but forgotten the precious sparkling he'd been so keen to raise once Megatron died. Predacons, Vehions, Terrorcons... it had all kept him distracted, especially as he sought out his old frame once more.
He would need to make things better.
Tari returned him to Cybertron and worked with anyone willing to side with Starscream during his court case. With a lot of effort, she was able to convince the Council that keeping Starscream alive was not only beneficial, but in the best interest of all of Cybertron. How did she do this? Why, she simply made it clear that Starscream had named her the heir of Vos... on live television. What was the Council to do? If they claimed Tari was lying, they would be disregarding the words of the Prime's sparkling. If they claimed her station was irrelevant, then they would earn the collective ire of every flier on Cybertron. There was almost no choice but to let Starscream out on parole and give Tari the funds needed to begin preparing to rebuild Vos.
Tari and Starscream were still rather tense, but working together on a common goal eased a lot of the pain that had developed over the years. Starscream guided Tari in her efforts and covered for her when she returned to the Wreckers. He laid low when she wasn't around and taught her as much of the old culture of fliers as possible. Over time, the wounds healed, and Starscream was able to proudly call himself Tari's mentor. Optimus was not made aware of Starscream's station in Tari's life until Vos rose into the skies once more and Starscream was there to announce Tari is official heir. It was a shock to say the least, but Tari relished in the companionship of her old secondary caretaker.
"Thank you for coming back with me."
"Thank you for giving me a second chance. To see Vos rise once more is a far greater accomplishment than anything I ever did during the war."
"You aren't so bad Starscream."
"HA! Lord Megatron would have a thing or two to say about that!"
#transformers#maccadam#transformers prime#tfp kids as sparklings au#miko nakadai#starscream#alternate universe
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