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remyfire · 1 year ago

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A kiss to the inner thigh and whatever other kisses you feel like adding- Charles/Hawkeye

(WE FINALLY DID IT, EVERYBODY, baby's first hawkchester.

I rolled one more for you, so you get! A tentative kiss! I couldn't resist that. I haven't written hawkchester until now because Charles intimidates me so much as a character, but I'm steadily gaining confidence in his dialogue. So hopefully more of them soon!)

"Charles, do I ever ask you for anything?"

"Around seven-point-six times a week, on average," Charles drawls as he turns the page of his medical journal, never once glancing away from the page.

"How's that even figure out?" Hawk demands from behind him. "You don't have the numbers. When's the last time I asked?"

Still, he doesn't spare Hawkeye so much as a glance. "This morning, you told me to budge over so you and Hunnicutt could share your inane little quibbles about the duty roster."

"That doesn't count. That's barely—I-I would've asked anybody for that. That's not a you-specific thing."

"Yesterday, you needed to borrow my pen."

"To write on a chart!" Hawk exclaims, sweeping his arm through the air. "Is it my fault my pen ran out of ink?"

"A true professional," Charles intones dramatically, "would never be without a spare."

"Y-You're so—"

"And, for that matter, a man who swears his devotion to the medical practice must be prepared to tend to his duties." Charles finally gives one single look over his shoulder, viewing Hawk from the corner of his eye. "Not scheduling his rendezvous during his assigned shift in post-op."

Hawkeye circles around to Charles's desk and slaps his hand on the surface to head off his point. "It's with Gwen. For the love of God, how many times do I have to miss a date with Gwen before one of you assholes gives me a break?"

Charles, it appears, is utterly unimpressed, simply staring up at him as he clicks his tongue. "Steady. If you spend so much of your time disappointing women..." He considers, glancing toward the wall of the tent. "Mm. On second thought, if we consider the gossip..."

The nerve of him. Though he knows full well words like that are only used to wind him up, the bite of acid stings his tongue all the same. "Hah. Right. Like you're hearing a single word on the gossip train when the nurses won't even give you the time of day."

It's frankly insulting that Charles could sting Hawk like that, then look so completely unaffected by a returned barb. He doesn't even reply. Just goes back to his academic reading like, like he's...

All right. It's not the first time Hawk's had thoughts about him. Notions, even. It was those same mental experiments that led Hawkeye down interesting paths with Trapper, for instance, ones that served them both exquisitely well for the time they had together. He's run games like that with plenty of men—with MPs, aid station medics, and that one extremely interesting occasion with Scully—but he'd never felt bold enough to actually make a move on someone like Charles.

Because it would make sense, wouldn't it? How quickly him and Margaret fizzled out, if they even started down a path together at all. His trouble with finding evening companionship that will have him. God, Charles is in his cot every fucking night, just like BJ, and with a hell of a lot less incentive to be there.

So he...he wonders. He thinks about it sometimes. He...

Yeah. Yeah, okay, he would. Hawk would, absolutely, even if just to push his buttons. To tug strings.

In moments like this, when a concept grabs him, Hawk has trouble surfacing from it, gets so tightly caught in a loop that barely five seconds have gone by, and yet he's spent a lifetime wonderingwonderingwondering, and he's tapping his foot, and he's drumming his fingers on the desk, and—

"What if we make a deal?" Hawk asks.

"You have nothing that could possibly interest me," Charles replies.

Hawk's mouth waters. He swallows. "You haven't even heard my offer."

"Because I already know that it will not interest me."

Undeterred, chest tight, Hawk circles around behind his chair. He grabs the back of it and with all his frail little might, he manages to drag it back a couple of inches.

Charles splutters. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Presenting my case." Hawkeye even manages to sound unstrained, miraculously—he hopes, at least. As he comes back around, there's just enough room to bump past Charles's knees, meet his eyes, and sink down to the floor.

There's such a radical moment of stillness from Charles that Hawk could almost believe that time might've come to a stop. It's not rare to see Charles completely absorbed in his passions, unmoving as he appreciates them with a depth that Hawkeye will sometimes catch himself watching endlessly in return, but this is quite different. It's like for the very first time, Charles is seeing something about Hawkeye, and his body has frozen to allow his racing mind to catch up.

Hawk laces his hands around Charles's calves, giving them a slow rub up and down along rough fatigues. They're not as soft as he might expect when compared to the man's more plush thighs and round stomach. No, there's a rock hard strength in them just like the nurses, like Colonel Potter and BJ both. As much as Charles could be read as a man of utter luxury, he works as hard as the rest of them. He doesn't shirk his duty.

Almost regrettably, Hawk admires that.

He travels higher, easing Charles's legs a little further apart, but he doesn't look down at his goal yet. He already knows he's going to enjoy this—takes a personal pride in his excellent service in this regard. He's very oral. What can he say?

But while Hawk's well familiar with how men will sweat or squirm or even grab him and yank him toward their cock, Charles simply watches him, brow furrowing, like he's...what? A puzzle that needs to be solved? Or an ant crawling up his pant leg?

Hawkeye's mind still hasn't slowed. He was counting on getting his mouth on Charles's dick to make that part happen. But now it rushes ever onward, wondering if it's maybe kind of a shitty sign that he can't read Charles's curiosity from his disdain, and wouldn't that be unfortunate? If not even Hawk's particular skill at pleasing a man could make someone like this—who views everyone around him as imbeciles—thaw?

Somehow he hadn't considered the possibility that after all these months of Hawkeye's irritation beginning to melt into some degree of respect, perhaps Charles still saw Hawkeye as a boy playing doctor, and nothing more.

Hawk's breathing a little too fast now. He gulps down his sudden trepidation as best as he can and leans in, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Charles's thigh. There's an interesting flutter of eyelashes above him, which seems promising, but the second he glances down, he sees...nothing. Not even the slightest hint of arousal. And he's thinking far too fast for the possibility that he might just need to tease him a bit more.

He knows what he is. Knows the picture he presents. He's pretty enough to be a girl, but his facial angles are masculine enough to be a boy. He can play whatever role someone might need. But he never foresaw the possibility that someone might not want either.

Fingers suddenly find Hawkeye's hair, and they thread through the strands with an elegance that he's unfamiliar with feeling during this act, the kind that half-makes Hawk want to spit on him. It wouldn't take much to read condescension in the gesture. On any given day, it all but drips out of this man's every pore. "Pierce, perhaps these methods are all it takes to sway your endless revolving door of lovers to your whims. But on me, you'll find it's quite ineffective."

Hawk rolls his eyes. Tends to the faint slice through his ribs, the one that nicks the edge of his heart. No, yeah, he realizes that. There's not a bit of lift to be seen. It's actually hilarious how the insult hits him faster than the fear which should rise to the surface. If he just made a move on a normal fellow—completely misread his suspected proclivities—then he could have a hell of a lot more to lose than just a midnight tryst with Gwen.

"I do admit I find your eagerness to sell yourself quite interesting," Charles murmurs.

Hawk sinks his fingers into Charles's pillowy thighs as leverage to start standing up. "You about to take lessons from Sidney?"

Charles tuts out a little laugh. "Oh, hardly." But suddenly his hand shifts, his broad palm dragging over Hawk's cheek, and the intention and warmth there bring him to a sudden stop when they're at eye level. Charles shakes his head with amusement beaming from his eyes. "I have no use for that variety of, ah, pseudoscience."

The interwoven combination of annoyance and attraction strikes him again. "And I'm sure he's crying himself to sleep over it every night."

For once, Charles doesn't have an immediate retort. He tilts his head to the side, and as his glimmering gaze traces along Hawkeye's face, he can feel every inch as he covers it.

"Try not to take it personally, Pierce," Charles finally murmurs. "I'm so rarely stirred at all. Even your best efforts would serve little purpose."

It's interesting that he won't drop it. Hawk chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully, and when Charles's eyes leap to that action, his heart rate skyrockets. As they watch each other, focused on different facial quadrants, an interesting fact occurs to Hawkeye that he can't help but mention. "So why are your cheeks getting so red?"

Charles huffs. His eyebrows rise. "Unfortunately, you are mistaken. See, Winchesters never flush, we—"

As Hawkeye bobs forward, Charles goes deathly silent. Hawk waits. He looks for any feasible sign that he's making a mistake. But when no snide comment is forthcoming, he leans in far slower, and when Charles doesn't so much as move the hand off of his jaw, Hawk settles his weight gently with fingers on his other forearm.

The kiss is gentle. Honestly, it's one of the sweetest that Hawkeye can remember giving in recent memory. And when Charles's mouth doesn't even slightly move beneath his, Hawk pulls back, hesitant, hovering an inch away as he sucks in a deep breath and forces himself to meet those blue eyes.

Charles's lips part. "I..."

"Yeah?" Hawk coaxes quietly.

Charles clears his throat. He shakes his head a little, as though clearing it, then speaks just as softly. "I'm unable to fill your shift for you."

Right. Right. This is a deal. They're bargaining, and Hawkeye is losing. He'd forgotten that part. Forgotten Gwen. Forgotten where they even fucking are. He gives a tiny nod. "Uh-huh." And his mind returns to running rapid calculations for exactly how much trouble he might be in as he continues to stand back to his full height.

"Are you on duty next Saturday night?" Charles asks.

Hawk feels almost dizzy with how much he might've just fucked up his life, and for what? For a pair of pretty eyes? For a brilliant mind and words that so often taste like vinegar? He's a fool. "No," he just barely manages to say.

"Neither am I."

Hawkeye starts to walk away, then pauses. Blinks. He slowly turns on his heel. "Oh yeah?"

Charles doesn't look at him as he returns to his journal. "Quite."

Three long seconds pass. "That's interesting."

"Mm."

C'mon, Hawk wants to say. I just tried to blow you and you barely reacted. I just kissed you and you didn't kiss me back. You can't make me do everything.

But his fingers are tingling. And if he had patience before this war, it vanished barely a week in. Hawk chances, "So maybe we'll see each other."

"I'll be here," Charles simply replies.

Hawkeye huffs in shocked amusement. Okay, so apparently that's all he's gonna get. But it's...it's something, isn't it?

He hovers for a few moments more, staring at the back of the man's head, before he stumbles out into the camp, days worth of thoughts stampeding ahead of him. He's got one date to reschedule, and apparently he's got a new one he wasn't even fucking planning for with a puzzle he might never understand.

#hawkeye pierce #charles winchester #hawkchester #charhawk #my writing #ask meme answers #m*a*s*h

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ohthehypocrisy · 4 months ago

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Marvel VS Capcom 4EVER - The Perfect Dream Game

(This is going to be something different from my blog's usual content. I don't just love pokemon, I'm also a really big fan of crossover fighters. My very first fandom was Super Smash Bros. and it was where I started writing fanfics. I may not be all that good at 2D traditional fighting games, but I enjoy the time I spend on them. As such, I will be talking about Marvel vs Capcom and what I would want the 4th game to look like)

The Marvel VS Capcom series is a franchise founded on hopes and dreams. When an unlikely collaboration spawns one of the most fantastical crossover events in history, well before Super Smash Bros. Ultimate was conceived, you can imagine that it is fondly remembered and well regarded in its popularity and gameplay.

And yet, with such powerful Intellectual Properties populating the series, the games are rife with copyright power struggles and negotiations. So much so, that the game had been in limbo for as many years as it had been played competitively. The demand is there, the problem is that no one can decide how much money both sides should be making to allow for a character to be put into the game and to get punched in the face.

To put it into perspective, Marvel VS Capcom 2 came out in 2000, and it pulled a Masahiro Sakurai and included every character from the past games plus a little extra. The game was entirely 2D with mostly reused sprites, which is how it got away with a whopping 56 characters on the roster right out the gate. This also created some balancing issues as the top tier characters from previous games were also top tier here as well, though that topic of discussion is beyond my area of expertise. All you need to know is, there's a reason all the top level matches have the same 5 or so characters.

Now, as for Marvel VS Capcom 3, that title came out in 2011, a whole 10 years after the arcade experience was brought home. The hype was still there, but the series would run into some licensing issues in the background. It's how we got Ultimate Marvel VS Capcom 3 less than a year later, and how Marvel VS Capcom Infinite came out the way it did. Though perhaps it would be best if you, the reader, looked into that yourself, as I'd rather talk about Marvel VS Capcom 4, or rather, what it could potentially be.

Since the Marvel VS Capcom Fighting Collection was announced, I have been ecstatic about finally owning these games that I would rarely see. I didn't go to arcades all that often, but I always liked going to look at all the cabinets and all the games I've never seen before. Remember, arcades were a big deal back in the day, and the internet wasn't, so this is where you would discover games you haven't heard about. This is how I learned about Marvel VS Capcom, and how I fell in love with crossover fighters in general. I was a 90's kid growing up, so these quarter consuming cabinets were like a vivid dream to experience. And being on the autism spectrum meant that a strong first impression would consume my waking thoughts for years on end. It's my hope that a rail shooter collection comes out soon so that I can reexperience 'The Ocean Hunter' in all its glory.

Back to the topic at hand, the rerelease of these games would imply that relations between Marvel and Capcom have mellowed enough that all the licensing headaches for this collection passed like a mild flu. It's a bit of wishful thinking, but the door might be open for a potential new iteration of Marvel VS Capcom. I mean, everyone has been talking about it lately, so I figured I'd put in my own two cents.

Before we begin, we do have to go over why MVC Infinite isn't being given the honorary title of number 4, and there are a few reasons. One of them being the confusing order of titles of the franchise. Marvel VS Capcom 2 is actually the 4th in the series, starting with X-Men VS Street Fighter, though it could also be the 6th of you started with X-Men: Children Of The Atom. So what would that make UMVC3? It was an updated rerelease sold less than a year after MVC3, so does it count or should it be a separate thing? MVC Infinite didn't use a number in their title, though if you tilted the ∞ sign you would get the number 8, which is the exact number of games in the series if you count UMVC3 as a hefty DLC bundle.

The other reason is because of all the executive meddling that poisoned the roster. What is a Marvel VS Capcom game without Wolverine or any of the X-Men? Well, you get MVC Infinite, that's what. On top of the squandered roster, there were loads of criticisms over the models looking the way they do. I'm not gonna dwell on this bit for too long, but don't be surprised when you hear people boldly claim that Infinite isn't a true MVC game.

So, what would a Marvel VS Capcom 4 look like? Everyone has their own ideas, but it seems that no one can decide on a concrete roster for Launch Day. I specify 'Launch Day' as it's to be expected that a big game like MVC4 will have DLC, it's how you keep a game like this alive for as long as there is work to be done. I mean, I've yet to hear anyone complain about DLC for this series, except for when UMVC3 was announced, but that is the exception that proves the rule. As long as it doesn't happen again, you can do no wrong.

Well, what do I think? After all, this is my post, my idea. As such, I'm proposing a base roster of the best of both worlds, the absolute pinnacle of popularity for the birth of the best beat 'em up game ever made. I'm talking the top picks like Cyclops, Ryu, Wolverine, Chun-Li, Captain America, Mega Man, Deadpool, Dante, all the fan favorites that would guarantee a Day 1 buy for everyone.

But I'm also proposing a massive DLC roadmap for the game's foreseeable future. With a plan of releasing new characters for the game as time wears on, the starting roster and number of characters don't really matter that much. Granted, there are some characters who are nonnegotiable for the starting roster, like Spider-Man and Morrigan, but as long as everyone understands that there will be loads of DLC characters coming down the line, you can guarantee that Launch Day sales will go through the roof.

Think of this potential game to function like Fortnite, or more specifically, like a live service. Now, I know that live service games have performed very poorly, but that's usually because of bone-headed executives making the decisions for the developers. There are live service games that do very well, like Splatoon for instance, or the aforementioned Fortnite. Since the plan is to gradually release new content, it'll pay to make everything accessible to the players by turning it into a live service.

Of course there's the issue of what the base price for the game will be or if new characters will be paywalled. You have to charge SOMETHING to make a profit, especially if you want to pay your team to make new characters. In a perfect world, the game and characters would be free and all the monetization would be made through cosmetics. But the fairest asking price would be between $60 and $70, with the promise that all characters released through DLC will be free. Of course, the developers and the company won't leave the money on the table, they'll probably whip up a battlepass or something to engage daily play. Again, as long as the characters are free and everything else is cosmetic, we can't complain too much...

In order to keep the game fresh, however, new character releases should be released in bundles. Even with the starting roster of about 30 or so characters, fans will always want something more out of the game. But the developers are only human, and crunch time is one of the worst things you can do your workers. As such, the DLC shall be 'seasonal' with each release period being named after a Marvel VS Capcom title. For instance, 3 months after the release of Marvel VS Capcom 4, the first seasonal DLC will be called 'X-Men VS Street Fighter' with 6 new characters from these Intellectual Properties, and more coming later down the line. The seasonal DLC will last until a sufficient number of X-Men and Street Fighter characters have been added to the roster. That might get stale quickly, though, so maybe the rest will come out later in between seasons.

Following this trend, after 'X-Men VS Street Fighter' we'll get the 'Marvel Super Heroes VS Darkstalkers' DLC pack. And then following that, we can get the 'Clash of Super Heroes' pack, which is the subtitle for Marvel VS Capcom (which is the fifth game). Then comes 'New Age of Heroes', followed by the 'Fate of Two Worlds' pack, then the 'Ultimate' Pack, and finally the 'Infinite' pack. The idea here is to cram this $70 game full of characters so that everyone who bought it will have their money's worth, and all the fans get all the characters they could ever want. Masahiro Sakurai, the Lead Developer of Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, left the industry with one of the most ambitious crossover games of history. A dreamed up version of Marvel VS Capcom 4 has to meet and exceed this insurmountable expectation of crossover greatness. Even if I'm not all that familiar with either Marvel or Capcom properties, I would want nothing less than to make as many people happy as possible.

So that's the plan, but what about the gameplay? I mean, you can't just release Ultimate Marvel VS Capcom 3 again with more characters and expect everyone to be happy, right? I mean, no, but the ironic thing is that a lot of people would love to have that. In fact, there's a massive mod scene behind UMVC3 right now and they're adding in loads of characters. If you're comfortable with tinkering around a bit in computer files, I highly recommend giving it a look. (It's also extra apparent at how apathetic people are about MVC: I, though that game is also getting its own mod update).

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Anyway, as for gameplay, if we HAD to add something, I had the idea of throwing in something called the 4EVER Assist. It's why I titled the post the way I did, as this is how you add even more characters to the game. See, back in Marvel VS Capcom: Clash of Super Heroes, there was a random assist feature that you could pick along with your two main characters. This is where a majority of the games new sprite work came from, aside from newcomers like Venom and Captain Commando. Basically, you technically had a team of three characters, though the assist varied in strength and usage. The weaker and less effective assists could be called more often, but the stronger and better assists had very limited calls.

This assist system had very little risk to the player, which is why each one was ratioed with different number of uses. In other installments, each chosen fighter could be called for an assist, but summoning them recklessly could leave them vulnerable to combos from the enemy. But if you got clipped along with the assist you called, well, expect the crowd to start singing 'Happy Birthday', if you know what I mean.

Anyway, for my idea of Marvel VS Capcom 4EVER, both assist systems are combined, turning what was traditionally a 3v3 fighting game into a 4v4. The 4th character cannot be controlled, but they offer some benefits over regular fighters. For one, the player will never be out of assists if they are brought down to their last character, making comebacks a lot more feasible. Secondly, all characters on the roster can be delegated as the 4EVER assist and allows them to use exclusive moves when called as an assist. And thirdly, since it is only one move, you can have new characters exclusive to the 4EVER assist list that otherwise wouldn't make the cut, like Nick Fury or Cut Man. Not to say that these characters can't be promoted to fully fledged fighters down the line, but it'd be nice to have them around otherwise.

I've also got the idea of adding something called the 4EVER Ability, a passive effect unique to each fighter. This is closer in execution to Pokemon Abilities but tailored to the team fighter combat system. Basically, each fighter offers a different boon that affects the whole team, and since you can choose three fighters and a 4EVER assist, you can have four passive abilities active at once. However, if a fighter gets KO'd, their 4EVER Ability is negated for the rest of the match, leading to a structural degradation of team synergy. Of course, the 4EVER assist cannot be KO'd, so a player can make a last stand with at least two active 4EVER Abilities in play.

Here's a short list of 4EVER Abilities that would be in the game and their function:

Cyclops - "Dreams don't die!" Super Meter Generation is increased by 1.5x (Hitting and getting hit generates Super Meter, which can be used for Super Attacks, so an ability to hasten that generation is useful.)

Ryu - "I walk the path of a true warrior!" All 🡳🡶🡺P attacks deal 2x more damage. (This boon is restricted to Punch attacks, but all attacks, Supers, and Assists that use this motion get the power boost.)

Wolverine - "I'm the best at what I do." Your combo is more resistant to Damage Decay. (The later installments of MVC have a Damage Decay system where the longer the combo drags on for, the less damage you'll deal overall. Other fighting games have this. Wolverine's ability caps the damage drop-off much earlier.)

Ken - "Here's to a good fight!" All 🡺🡳🡶P attacks deal 2x more damage. (Same as Ryu's ability, but for 'dragon punch' motion attacks.)

Spider-Man - "With great power, comes great responsibility." Damage increases by 2x for each bar of Super Meter you have. (With you being able to control 3 characters, the Super Meter maxes out to 5, meaning a potential 10x damage increase for your combo. The damage is instantly reduced when you spend some for a Super, however.)

Mega Man - "Mega Buster, Power UP!" Super Attacks deal 2.5x more damage. (Super Attacks cost Super Meter, but they hit very hard, can fill the screen with damage, or even be used to counter other attacks. However, Mega Man's ability is still susceptible to Damage Decay, which Super Attacks tend to generate quickly.)

Hulk - "Hulk is strongest there is!" Damage is increased the more HP you have. (This ability grants a massive power boost in the first minute of the fight, but it wavers later on. Tagging in other characters is also risky if they are brought in recklessly and lose some HP during their assist calls.)

Captain Commando - "Let's go, Commandos!" Assists deal more damage the more HP they have. (Because of how integral Assists are to making combos, dealing more damage through assists is a powerful asset. But it can only scale up with how healthy you keep your teammates.)

Captain America - "Freedom prevails!" Reduces damage taken while blocking. (This one is self-explanatory, given how strong Cap's adamantium shield is. It's also crucial in avoiding chip damage during critical moments, as most attacks will still whittle down your HP bar, even while blocking.)

Mike Haggar - "The Mayor of America!" Throws deal more damage and it is easier to Tech Throws. (In contrast, working around blocking means knowing how to throw your enemies. This boon also increases the damage dealt through command throws. When you get grabbed, you have a very short window of time to input a grab to negate the attack, this is called a Tech Throw. This ability widens the window by a few frames, but keep in mind that command throws cannot be Teched.)

Doctor Doom - "Defeat is beneath Doom!" Damage increases gradually the lower your team's HP is. (MVC3 and UMVC3 had a comeback mechanic called X Factor, where activating it increased your speed and power drastically. But the less teammates you had, the greater the boost, functioning as a divisive comeback mechanic. I'm not sure if MVC4 will have a similar mechanic, so I'm a little hesitant to put something similar as an ability.)

M. Bison - "This place will become your grave!" Damage dealt to the enemy increases the more Ichor they have. (In nearly all versions of MVC, there is an HP mechanic called red HP or something to that effect, I don't think it was ever officially named. Anyway, when you get hit, a portion of your HP lost turns into red HP, which you can recover later through healing specials or by tagging out and waiting. In MVC4, this will be called Ichor, meaning this ability deals gradually increasing damage to the enemy as the combo continues.)

Ghost Rider - "Feel the weight of your sins brand your soul." Counter Specials and Super Attacks deal 3.5x more damage. (In MVC, Counters in general are rare and rarely used due to how team supers function. As such, this ability grants a massive boost in damage to those specials if they land.)

Dante - "Now it's a party!" Attack and Speed increase a little bit during Installs. Also extends the duration of Installs by a little bit. (An 'Install' is traditionally a temporary transformation into a slightly different character, but they typically add in buffed stats and extra moves. You can call it a temporary self buff that may or may not cost Super Meter. It should be noted that Installs do not run out when the character is tagged out and is retained when the character is called back in for an assist, which this ability will continue to boost the damage of.)

I have more examples but I think that'll do for now. The idea of a 'passive ability' system in a tag team fighting game is a bit foreign but since this game will have loads of characters, it helps to give each one a bit of personality.

I'll leave it at this for now. The irony here is that, if a Marvel VS Capcom 4 were to be in the works right now, I wouldn't be able to play it, owning only a Nintendo Switch right now. Maybe if the Switch 2 is real and can run more graphically intensive games, and that MVC4 gets a Switch 2 port. But this is all a dream for me, so it's time to wake up.

Thank you for reading this far. And remember, only two things last forever, diamonds, and MAHVEL.

#Marvel VS Capcom

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ravennaortiz · 4 months ago

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One Year Later

Chapter 19 of Countdown

As always this is an 18+ only story. This story is AU based and not your typical Sons of Anarchy story. Some readers may find some plot lines and changes to some characters to be problematic please read at your discretion. This story also time jumps heavily so keep this in mind as you read!

Warnings: General themes of the show such as violence, drugs, swearing etc, minor age gap.

Rocky was putting the finishing touches on her makeup in the bathroom when she heard the creak of the bedroom door. When she neither of her Old Men appeared in the doorway she frowned. "Juan? Kip?" she called as she turned to the door. Getting no response she hesitantly made her way to the door and peeked out.

Looking around she saw no one or anything amiss. Besides, no way anyone would get through Juices security system . Nor would they have made it upstairs without one of the guys being on them. Rocky moved to her closet and dug around for her heels. Once she found them she moved to turn back to her bed.

Out of the corer of her eye she saw a shadow move. Before she could process that she felt an arm wrap around her throat. "Last time this happened " started a deep voice before Rocky sprung into action. Letting out a scream of animalistic proportions she swung her stilettos wildly. Making contact with flesh before she was let go. Tumbling to the floor.

"Damn! Chill ya crazy ass out" demanded the voice as Rocky heard laughter from the hallway. Looking behind her she saw Coco rubbing his head while EZ lay on the floor laughing with Juice and Half-Sack smirking in the hallway.

"I warned you she was still spicy" stated Juice with a chuckle as he shook his head.

"Exactly why I said go by yourself. I wasn't about to get my nose broke again" laughed EZ as Coco glared and flipped them off.

"What if I had had a gun Coco? I could have killed you" demanded Rocky as she hopped off the floor. Coco snorted. "Like how you had a gun and shot yourself in the leg?" he inquired smiling at her as the others laughed.

"Fuck you" muttered Rocky with a smile as she made her way over to hug him.

"I think you have enough guys on your roster don't ya think? Cant be greedy" joked Coco making her punch him in the arm. "You are right though" replied Rocky her eyes dancing with mischief making Coco wary. "I only have so many open holes" she added making him close his eyes as EZ made gagging noises.

"Mija" stated Coco as he shook his head. I love you. But clearly you spent way to much time with me and Angel. The way that shit just flows out of your damn mouth" he muttered as he made his way out the door as the others parted trying to hold back laughter.

SONS Clubhouse

Rockys nineteenth birthday was in full swing. Music was pumping while alcohol flowed and guests danced and chatted the night away.

"She looks happy" stated Bishop as he took a seat next to Jax in the back.

"That she is " chuckled Jax as he glanced over to where Rocky sat on both Juice and Half-Sacks laps as she opened gifts. "Was a time I never thought we would make it to this. Thank you for all you did to help us. Also a time I'd have beat both of their asses. Guess times change" he added as he sipped his beer.

"Glad we could help Jax" replied Bishop as he chuckled. "Juice and Half-Sack are good guys. If I had a daughter or sister interested in two of my members I'd pick them" he added making Jax laugh.

"Too Peace and new beginnings" cheered Bishop as he tilted his bottle to Jax. "To peace and new beginnings" replied Jax as he grinned and clinked his bottle with the older mans.

The End

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imaginexwwe · 3 years ago

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WRONG NAME 1|3 - Seth ROLLINS

Seth Rollins x Reader

Guest appearance by Cody Rhodes

•

Fun (random) fact : I'VE ALWAYS HAD THE BIGGEST CRUSH ON CODY RHODES 🥰

•

Reader's backstage watching her boyfriend, (Colby Lopez) Seth Rollins' HIAC match against his current rival Cody Rhodes

•

I winced, along with I'm sure, every one else that sat in the crowd, and maybe the rest of the roster that was watching as crowd favorite, Cody Rhodes slowly removed his jacket.

He had just returned a few months ago, and was set to face off against my boyfriend of almost three years Seth Rollins, yet again.

But unlike the many matches I've watched the two of them face off against, and I do mean the many times, considering that since Cody made his re-debut it was Seth vs. Cody, or Cody vs. Seth.

There was always some sort of interaction between the two men, every week, even in the last few pay per views of the last months, that followed this year's Wrestlemania.

Mostly because of Seth's unwillingness to take his L and admit defeat.

I mean, sure giving up has never been in his vocabulary but, c'mon, it's already Cody two and Seth zero.

But this one...

This was different.

Cody was going into this match already injured.

How is he going to get through this match as banged up as he is, when Seth hasn't even gotten his hands on him yet..?

Seth just may be able to pull out a win, I thought to myself in silence, as I tore my eyes from Cody Rhodes to focus of Seth Freakin' Rollins.

It's not like I doubted that my man couldn't win if Cody was a hundred percent, it's just maybe now that he's not, Seth could get his win, finally.

"He needs this," I mumbled, rolling my eyes, as I watched him parade around the ring that was being surrounded by a twenty feet cell, dressed in his new ring gear that was all too similar to the gear that Cody's dad, Dusty Rhodes wore during his legendary career in this very business. "He really needs this..."

•

After almost thirty minutes, I stood a short distance from the entrance of the ring, playing with my fingers, as I awaited my boyfriend's return backstage.

He lost.

He really lost.

Again.

Cody basically had one good arm, wasn't even able to give his full strength and still, my boyfriend lost.

This is gonna be a long ass night, I groaned to myself, jumping up seconds later after I heard footsteps getting closer from the other side.

"Baby." I forced out a squeal, ready to throw myself onto him the second he was in my reach.

Knowing how my boyfriend is when he loses, especially to the same person repeatedly, he was gonna need a lot of love and ego stroking.

Except the man who was now in my arms wasn't the man I had anxiously been waiting for.

And I didn't realize that until after my lips were on his.

I pulled back with a groan, running the palm of my hands across my eyes. "Look," I know you're pissed about losing to him again, but you could at least kiss me back."

"I know, and normally I would," I heard a man's deep voice respond, causing me to gasp as I immediately realized it wasn't the voice that belonged to my boyfriend. "I was just caught by surprise." I heard the man add, with a chuckle.

I can't believe I just fucking kissed him

How could I be so stupid?

Who runs up and kisses a man without even realizing its not THEIR MAN?

BETTER YET WHAT MAN JUST LETS A WOMAN RUN UP TO THEM WITHOUT STOPPING HER?

"Why didn't you stop me, Cody?" I questioned, slapping at his shoulder, forgetting just that quick about the scary looking bruise that covered most of that side of his chest, all the while, raising my voice but at the same time, tried my best to make sure the now wondering superstars and backstage workers couldn't hear the conversation I was having with my boyfriend's rival, I especially didn't want the ones that were friends with Colby to hear.

Cody sucked in a sharp breath, glancing down at his injury, then back at me. "First, ouch, Y|N," he mumbled, making me look down in shame for hitting him. "Secondly, I kinda did," Cody continued, before adding, "I didn't kiss back, remember."

"You don't have to mock me..." I huffed, slowly looking back up and him, taking in the beautiful features of his face. "And I'm sorry for hitting you."

"Really?" Cody questioned, his eyes playfully narrow. "Are you really sorry for hitting me?" He questioned. "Or just sorry for hitting my banged up shoulder?"

I shrugged, unable to hold in a giggle. "Sorry that I hit the banged up shoulder." I answered, causing Cody to laugh.

For someone who's I'm sure in a lot of pain, after going through a match like that, being hit with whatever my boyfriend could get his hands on, thrown into steel steps, and a cell, he's in a pretty good mood.

"That's what I thought." He replied, his laughter slowing dying down, right before my boyfriend became visible backstage.

"What's so funny?" I heard Colby say as he took his place right beside me, wasting no time to pull me closer.

"Oh, nothing." I quickly spoke up, shrugging. "I was just apologizing for my embarrassing moment with Cody." I added, turning to face my boyfriend. "It was nothing."

Colby shook his head, looking from me to the man he just finished up a match with, less than five minutes ago. "You were laughing so it must've been something." He responded, forcing a laugh of his own.

But like I said, I knew him, and this annoying laugh of his wasn't out of amusement, and all though they both sound the same.

I knew this one was of jealousy.

The look in his eyes helped give it away.

But what was he jealous for?

He didn't have any reason to be.

If he had saw what happened a few minutes earlier sure he'd have a reason, but he was still out in the ring or taunting some fan in the audience, so clearly he didn't

Ugh, you know how he is, Y|N

And judging by the look Cody's giving, he must've already picked up on what my boyfriend is giving off. "I was just trying to laugh off an embarrassing fan girl moment from your girl." He spoke up, trying to save me from Colby's questions, throwing a wink at me.

"Oh..." My boyfriend replied, nodding his head. "I never knew she was a fan." He said, before adding. "I've never saw her watch anything AEW related. Let alone, mention anyone from there, and she's never even wat-"

"Um, I know Jon." I interrupted, crossing my arms as I fought the urge to roll my eyes at how ridiculous Colby was being.

Colby shrugged, quickly telling me Jon doesn't count because I know Jon from being with Colby.

I shook my head. "No, I didn't just know him from being your friend, I knew of Jon from being a fan of WWE, which just so happens to be where Cody worked before leaving and coming back." I responded, correcting my boyfriend of his ignorance.

I hate when he gets so worked up like this

"Why are you acting like this?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest, not really giving the man in front of me a chance to speak.

Colby huffed, his chest rising and falling from his heavy breathing.

Was it from the match he just had?

Or just him letting his jealous ways get the best of him again?

Probably both

"I don't..." My boyfriend, mumbled, his words trailing off. "Babe, you know me," He began speaking up again, running a hand through his half frizzy, half damp hair. "I'm not a good loser, for one, then after I do, I see my girlfriend," Colby paused for a second, reaching his hand out to grab at mines, "the love of my life being friendly with the guy I just loss to and it just struck a nerve with me I guess."

I sighed, my eyes making contact with Colby's.

Basically searching his.

"You're right," I nodded, agreeing with everything that my boyfriend had just said. "I do know you," I added, before shrugging slightly, a half smile forming on my lips. "And I knew exactly why you're acting the way you are, even before I asked. I just wanted you to admit it out loud so I could tell you how stupid you are acting."

"I am pretty stupid, huh?" Colby asked, with a grin.

"Very stupid." I corrected, grabbing and pulling Colby's face closer to mines. "And you don't have to be, because you are the love of my life too, baby. And no matter how angry you sometimes make me," I paused just long enough to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "Nothing will ever make not love you, Cody. I will always love you."

As I leaned in for another, this time, longer kiss.

"What the hell did you just call me?"

I frowned confused as to why all of a sudden it felt like I was back at square one with Colby.

"What do you mean? I called you Cody." I said as a matter of fact, not realizing that I had did it again.

Oh shit.

Shit.

Shit...

"Cod-" I huffed, wanting to slap myself. "Colby, I didn't mean to say his name, I swear. It's just bot-"

Colby shook his head, pointing a finger in my direction. "Drop it." He said, those two words filled with pure anger as they left his lips.

I swallowed hard, biting my lip as I fought back tears.

"It was a mistake, Colby." I half yelled as I slowly followed behind my boyfriend as he started walking away from me, heading in the direction of the locker rooms, I assuming. "Colby and Cody is just so similar, like that's the only reason I got mixed up and I know I shouldn't ha-"

"You're damn right, it shouldn't have happened Y|N." Colby replied, his teeth clenched as he abruptly stopped, making me almost bump into his chest. "You don't mix up your boyfriend's name with someone else." He spoke again, adding. "I've never done that to you."

I nodded, childishly pouting. "That's because you've probably never met someone with a name that sounds so much like mines, and if you have, you've probably never been in the same room with them while you were in the same room as me and so you've never had this problem." I rambled, before quietly adding in almost a whisper. "But if you did, I'd forgive you because I know you love me and you didn't mean it."

"Are you done?" Colby asked, and I simply nodded in response waiting in silence for him to say something.

Anything.

But instead he just stared me down once again before silently turning his back to me and walking away.

I fucked up.

Big time.

"That was quiet the show." I heard from behind me.

I rolled my eyes, fighting the urge to turn to face the man whose name I had mixed up with the name of my boyfriend. "Shouldn't you be getting checked on?" I questioned, trying to make my words as bitchy as possible.

"Yeah," Cody answered, his touch sending shivers down my spine as he let his hand run down my back. "I was actually on my way to the medic while you were talking with your boyfriend but then before I got too far down the hall, I heard you confess your love to me."

"Confess my love? For you?" I scoffed. "I don't love you Cody." I spat out of anger from what just went down between me and Colby.

It's like I wanted to blame Cody.

For what thought?

Having a name that's similar enough to my boyfriend's to where I was dumb enough to get them mixed up?

"That's a shame." I heard Cody sigh, finally removing his hand from off me. "Cause I still love you, Y|N." He resumed speaking, before leaning closer to me, his lips so close to me that if I turned we would practically be kissing one another again. "And when we kissed, it reminded me of the good times. And I'm not afraid to admit it." Cody confessed, before he too, left me in the hallway alone with my thoughts.

•

This is just a random love triangle (ish) one shot ☺

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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for want of a bento box

– It’s plain and simple, you see, someone is stealing your bento boxes and you will find your lunch thief! Or, in which Todoroki Shouto keeps taking your bento box and you declare war.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, shouto is a bad chef, I believe I made reader pretty gender neutral but I whipped this out in two hours and I can no longer remember if I used any fem!pronouns but im pretty sure I didn’t

word count: 3,060

a/n: this is for the wonder coworker bnharem collab! I had intended on writing a completely different theme and storyline but was very overwhelmed by how much time it actually needed to be written compared to the amount of time I actually had. that version will be out another time! but for now, enjoy some pure flufffffff!!!!

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Having a normal, functioning, well-paying job was probably the most desirable thing to you. It wasn’t to say that you were slacking or that you were homeless, broke, and never to be seen again because you were that in debt. But it was nice having a job!

When you entered the prestigious Toshinori Company, you joined not as an entry-level job employee but as a senior representative. You thought it was crazy.

It had to be crazy.

You had no prior experience, and now you were going to be in charge and the lead in certain areas?!

“And that was the entire layout of the office!” Mina chirped happily, throwing herself onto the desk chair across from yours with a big smile. “Any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” you mutter, brows creased as you look around the room again.

The office space was ample, sleek, open. Each desk has its own grand computer that you currently could not afford with your own money, comfortable chairs, and beautiful wood desks. It was elegant, far superiorly fancy, and yet, you didn’t feel out of place. Strange.

“Oh!” you say with a roll of your eyes as you reach below your desk to bring up your packed lunch. “Where was the break room again? I need to refrigerate my food!”

“Omg, of course, come this way!” Mina grins, standing up and motioning you to follow her. You smile gratefully and do.

The entire way to the office, Mina takes the time to point at the many different people on the floor and give them names. Everyone so far had sort of acknowledged you earlier as Mina was giving you the official tour. Some were much more open and friendly, and some had sneers or blank stares that left you dumbstruck.

Definitely a personable group.

“Hm, well, I guess Todoroki-kun isn’t here today?” Mina mutters as you enter the break room that has couches and comfortable-looking chairs. “Such a shame! You would have loved to see the office hottie!”

You snort at that, lips curled into a granulous smile as you place your plastic container with food into the fridge. “I’m sure I’ll live,” you brush off the fact that there was an absent person on your floor today.

“That’s the thing, though,” Mina points a finger at you, a lone eyebrow raised and a confident smirk on her face. “You won’t be thinking that again the moment you see him!”

You laugh, eyes crinkling as Mina joins your laughter. Eventually, she motions for the both of you to leave, and you nod in understanding. And with a weird sense of comfort and belonging, you realized that this job was going to be good.

Eventually, you had been working at Toshinori Company for two months.

Sixty-two days to be precise, and in all that time, you had only met Todoroki Shouto once. Even then, you had only seen the man walking through the office with a blank face, fingers in his pockets as two other men were walking in front of him, bickering lightly.

Had Mina not quite literally thrown herself across the table and gripped the collar of your shirt and twisted your head to look at him, you would have never caught a glimpse at the man with red and white hair. The three of them walked into the break room and came back out with their own lunches before leaving.

And that was it.

You had learned that the three of them (Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku, and Bakugou Katsuki) were within your department but worked very closely with the very high up members within the company. Many rumors pointed at one of the three taking over the company when the current CEO stepped down. They were, however, on the roster for your floor; they just never appeared except to pick up their lunches. Something they seemed to come to grab whenever you were a) way too fucking busy or b) not in the room.

You weren’t too bothered, though.

It wasn’t like you were trying to date one of them! You had only wanted to say hi.

Now, at ninety days, you had your first and probably most crucial evaluation.

Toshinori Yagi, the man who founded and currently ran this company, sat before you, looking at papers within a folder with tired but kind blue eyes. He nodded, impressed (hopefully), making small comments about the work you had been able to accomplish, a smile becoming a warming grin as he looked up.

“I’m impressed by the performance you’ve managed to attend to despite the short while you’ve been here, y/l/n-shojo,” Toshinori spoke, his fingers threading together and placing them onto the table. “I knew it was an excellent decision to put you in that position, and you exceeded my entire expectation!”

You flushed at that, lips twitching as you attempted to suppress that smile of yours.

“Thank you, Toshinori-san,” you practically wheeze as he waves off your thanks.

“No need to thank me, you’ve done all this work!” he laughs, tired eyes closing with a glorious supply of crow's feet blooming at the corner of his eyes. “Typically, at these evaluations, I ask a bunch of questions because there isn’t too much anyone can do in their first ninety days, I must admit.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm, but because I am curious, is there anything that has been happening as of late that you feel needs to be addressed with me?”

You felt yourself stiffen but knew your one and only complaint was not something to bring up in this setting.

“No, nothing,” you shrug, and Toshinori beams.

“I’m glad!”

Now, the problem.

The big, fat, stinky, hooligan, wanting to throttle someone problem.

For the past sixty of your ninety days, someone has been stealing your lunch.

Yes, you heard that correctly; someone was stealing your damn lunch! Every morning you woke up and prepared a delicious bento box for yourself. Some days you went as far as cutting shapes into your fruits and veggies just to make yourself grin. You weren’t the best chef in the world, but your bento boxes were pretty enough to make up for it, in your opinion. But the thing is, every day when you went into the communal fridge, you noticed two things.

One, your bento box was no longer in the same place, and two, the bento box was not yours at all.

The food was disastrously organized. Rice and lettuce spilling out in every partition in the box. The fruit and veggies often packed in this box had multiple cuts in them, implying that whoever did this was less than ideal with a knife. The meat was often oversalted, the sushi never sitting together, and everything was just… not it.

The first time you had sighed and eaten it, grumbling about how your precious lunch was stolen. But you had quickly figured out that it was inedible, and Mina, Uraraka, and Yaoyorozu thank god, offered to share their meals.

Seeing that you were distressed about how someone stole your egg and octopus sausages one day, Mina declared that they would watch the break room for whoever was stealing your light blue bento box. The first day you staked out, you had done it with Mina. But ten minutes into waiting around, you needed to pee. So you stood up and left in a hurry, leaving Mina alone.

But when you returned, Mina was gone, instead standing by Kirishima’s desk with a bright grin and a stance that screamed that she heard something she liked (gossip, possible in-office romance, a love confession?). Her jaw dropped as she noticed you and Kirishima had turned and waved in your direction as you raced into the break room to open the fridge, and sure enough, your bento was gone.

The next time, you staked out with Uraraka. Your arms were folded, your bladder cleared, and your lips twisted into a pout as you glared and stared down every single member who entered the room. Uraraka whispered to you her guesses about just who might be the thief, every other person rating an 8/10 likelihood of stealing your lunch.

But as the both of you sat there, your eyes narrowed at each passerby, no one came to collect your bento today.

“Deku-kun, no packed lunch today?” Uraraka asked as the green, curly-haired man you had only met once previously raced into the break room, grabbing the extra chopsticks meticulously hidden in the third bottom draw.

“Ah, Uraraka-san, y/l/n-san! Uh, no,” Midoriya greeted you both, who apparently responds to the nickname Deku, laughs off as he grabs a handful of napkins. “Todoroki-kun left all our lunches in his car by accident, and well… they spoiled… Kacchan’s pissed, so I ran off to get lunch for us today!”

Uraraka laughed, shaking her head, “Leave it to Todoroki-kun to act that way.”

Midoriya laughed, bright and clearly in agreement, “You should have seen his face when Kacchan asked for his lunch! I swear–”

“HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO GRAB FUCKING CHOPSTICKS, SHIT-KU! I’M FUCKING STARVING!” a voice roared from nowhere near the entrance of the break room. You did, however, jump a bit, eyes turning toward the break room entrance to see the blond man (Bakugou? Kacchan? You had no idea which was correct) near the entrance of the floor.

“It’s only been a minute, Kacchan, relax!” Midoriya laughs, completely unaffected by the startling shout as he waves goodbye to both you and Uraraka before leaving, joining Bakugou as the both of them seem to talk comfortably… well, maybe more like bickering.

“Why are they–”

“Childhood friends, apparently,” Uraraka sighed, but the smile on her face betrays her exasperation.

No one stole your bento that day.

Yaoyorozu took up the third stake out, the two of you idly chatting about tea. You honestly had no idea what to talk about with Yaomomo; she was often just so elegant and mature despite being your age. When you learned that her family was in charge of the Yaoyorozu Corp, it had been strangely easy to accept that.

It made sense.

So as the two of you stood at the kitchen sink, boiling water for tea Yaomomo swore would be the best matchup for your packed nigiri, the both of you missed the man who walked into the room, opened the fridge, and took your lunch.

“I… I am so sorry,” Yaomomo apologized, head bowed dangerously low as the both of you looked at the sloppily cut salmon in your not actual bento. “Please eat my food in reparation.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sigh, chewing on the somehow still warm salmon. “I deserved this loss.”

Luck was just on this man's side, it seemed. No matter what you did, you could never catch the man in action, and you were ready to give up.

But this was the last attempt you said to yourself as you returned to your office floor, the evaluation done, and the rest of your life coming to light. You could do this. No! You WOULD do this!

“Why don’t you just put your name on your bento box?” Bakugou asked, a lone eyebrow raised in what you could only assume was judgment and pity. The explosive man was standing in the doorway of the breakroom, watching as you and Mina were trying to climb up the counters of the breakroom to grab the camera you had previously planted. “Obviously, it doesn’t have your name on it.”

“Um,” you squeak, having been obviously caught by someone who intimidated you just the slightest bit. “That’s a good idea, thank you, Bakugou-san.”

“Tch, whatever, just clean up the damn counters, fucking nasty standing up on there. Some people prepare their food there.”

“We would never forget to do that!” you argue, desperate to not leave a bad impression on this man.

“I don’t know much about you, but I know raccoon eyes over there would.”

“MY NAME IS MINA!”

“Like I care.”

He left without so much as a wave but did seem to nod with his departure. You sighed as you hopped off the counter, Mina grabbing the cleaning supplies as she cursed out the long-gone man under her breath.

But you were looking at the fridge with your missing bento box.

“I can’t believe I never put my name on it.”

“It’s okay! Not even Yaomomo thought of it, so I say we are still smart!”

It was the next day, you were at your desk, anxious as hell as you did your work, trying not to focus on the fact that it was lunchtime and you were actively avoiding the break room. You wondered if they wouldn’t come and collect it today. If somehow they were an asshole and wouldn’t care if your name was on it! What would happen then? What if it was someone like Bakugou who was taking your lunch? What then? You were sure you would cave in slight fear and major intimidation if he said that your lunch was his now.

“Want a cutie while we wait, cutie?” Mina asked, waving the small tangerine in her fingers as she grins.

“Please,” you say in gratitude for the food because you were starving. “Thank you.”

Eventually, you lost track of what was happening, becoming all too invested in the conversation that Mina was telling you about that involved Kaminari, Kirishima, Bakugou, Midoriya, twenty-seven Red Bulls, fifteen Monsters, and five shots of sake. It seemed that the former two were quite big instigators when they wanted to be, and the latter two were unable to back away from challenges, especially when the other was involved.

“Y/l/n?” an unfamiliar voice called from behind you, and you turned partially in your chair as you looked behind you.

Standing behind you was a tall man with red and white hair, and from this distance, you noticed immediately that his eyes were a deep grey and brilliant blue.

Todoroki Shouto.

“T-Todoroki-san!” you greet him back, voice unable to keep from trembling as your nerves shot up. What was going on? You two had never interacted before! He was always gone, never present, and whenever he was in the office, it seemed that you weren’t there.

He cleared his throat and raised up two identical bento boxes.

“It seems… I have apparently been stealing your bento boxes,” he concludes, pressing the blue bento box with your name written on it into your hands.

Your jaw drops as your fingers curve around the cool plastic, eyes blinking up a storm as you try to abstain from laughing high pitched and ugly like.

“It was you?!”

A pink color blooms onto his cheeks as he averts his eye contact with you and nods slowly, “I am so sorry.”

“I just… how?!” you exclaim, exasperated, this man obviously being a bit dense if he had no idea he was taking your bento box!

“I prepare my bento boxes the night before, and I don’t really remember what I put into them….” Todoroki explains slowly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, his tongue clicking the roof of his tongue. “I just thought that my cooking was improving and that I was somehow doing an amazing job.”

The grin that overcomes your face is one of subtle, strange fondness and soft warmth. “I can tell you that you probably haven’t improved much,” you tease, opening your bento box to see your prepared meal for the day.

Cucumber salad, bulgogi beef, rice, and some fruit.

It was packed exactly how you remembered.

“I can’t believe I finally get to eat a meal I prepared,” you continue to tease, your eyes moving up to meet Todoroki, who was also looking at your bento previously. “Thank you for returning my meals and apologizing.”

“It was nothing,” Todoroki waved off with a single hand before opening up his own disastrously assembled bento box. It looked worse than usual today. Everything was just thrown in, it seemed. You saw egg and rice, but everything else in there was indescribable. He smiles at you before sighing at his bento. “This looks more like my stuff.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You want to share my bento box? I’m sure you probably don’t want to return to that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Todoroki gently declined, although he looked at your bento with great want. He cleared his throat, gaze moving to lock on yours, and you swore his cheeks were still pink but no longer from embarrassment. “I just wanted to come and apologize for stealing your lunch for so long and to thank you for the meals; they were all delicious. Especially the soba you had made.”

“It’s all good; it’s in the past now,” you say gently, somehow finding yourself falling for a man you’ve barely just begun to talk with. The both of you stare at each other, and your skin feels warm. You chuckle, gaze averting for a moment before returning as you tease him. “Although, if you steal from me again, I’m not so sure if I’ll be so lenient.”

“It won’t happen again, promise,” Todoroki smiles, and you feel your spine melt. “But I would love to make it up to you somehow. I can make you dinner one night or something?”

You laugh, head shaking, “No, absolutely not; I don’t trust your cooking skills just yet. But you can definitely take me out to dinner.”

“Yeah, I can definitely do that,” Todoroki agrees, and the both of you fall silent as the shy stares continue. “Does, um… is Friday at seven okay with you?”

“That works,” you say, and Todoroki smiles.

“Good, I’ll uh, see you then?”

“See you,” you agree with a sweet smile before turning around, your fingers raised in a small wave.

You turn to see Mina, Uraraka, and Yaomomo staring at you, eyes comically wide and so very intrigued.

“Oh… my… GOD!” Mina shrieked as Todoroki walks away, and you shriek as she jumps across the table and shakes you, screaming about office romances and meet-cutes being entirely too underrated. “PROMISE ME I’LL BE INVITED TO THE WEDDING!!!!”

“MINA!”

It would take about three years of dating, several months of teaching Shouto how to cook, which resulted in a few bellyaches. Still, eventually yes, Mina would be invited to your wedding.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Hue and Cry IX

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), mild violence, male-iinduced anxiety

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The first day of the tournament arrives.

Note: My pupper had surgery yesterday and it was my longer day of work for the week so lots going on. Also had some bad Chinese but managed to get this out before it came back up. Feel better now and I'll have a shorter day today.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Lord Barnes’ mood did not improve in the days leading up to the first of the tournament. It grew colder in the capital and many feared the events would be cut short by an early winter. You didn’t care much either way. You had no interest in the sport or much of anything. You just abided the duke and in those times he left you alone, you laid in a void.

His want of you didn’t wane nor did your despair or the disgust you felt when he touched you. It was one thing to be a servant, to be a tool, a means to an end, but what he used you for now seemed little more than torture. He delighted in what he did, in how he made you suffer. Those times you remained unmoving and unfeeling angered him the most.

You dressed in yellow that morning. The horns announced the beginning of the tournament as you made your way to the stand amid the sea of guests. The wives, daughters, sons, mothers and fathers of those who would compete. You were out of place as you climbed the wooden steps between the benches and a green sleeve shot up to wave to you.

“Dearie!” May brushed past her husband to stop you at the end of their seat, “here, with us,” she insisted, “we did save you a place.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you said quietly. You hadn’t seen her or her family since the night of the feast. Since Barnes had…

“I can’t have you sitting alone,” she trilled as she pulled you along with her and sat beside Lord Benjamin who bowed his head and issued a gentle greeting. “And I always longed for a daughter, you know? Peter’s a good boy but so troublesome. I did try to persuade him not to enter the lists but he just never stops.”

“The boy’s old enough,” Benjamin said, “when I was his age--”

“You married me,” May cut in, “a foolish decision indeed. He is on the roster for today. Sparring. I fear he might not make it past the early rounds but so long as he is not hurt.”

You nodded and covered your hands in your sleeves. Even with the fur-trimmed cloak Barnes allotted you, it was crisp. Your matching cap barely kept the cool air from your cheeks. Your leg shook from more than the cold as you recalled that Barnes was set to compete with the sword as well.

“A fine cape,” May commented as she touched the edge of your cloak, “with sleeves even.”

You looked down at the fawn-coloured garment that only allowed a peek of the canary yellow beneath. You fidgeted and kept your eyes on the field, “a gift,” you lied, well, maybe it wasn’t a lie, or maybe you’d bought it in sweat and tears.

Another horn blew and she quieted and clapped as all looked to the center of the arena. The wooden stands were hung in all shades of silk, the banners of each house, high and low, covered the rafters. By the end of the day, only one would remain. Lord Barnes’ blue and ivory flapped opposite your side and Benjamin pointed out his family's slender red and black crest amidst the panoply.

You were thankful for the distraction, not for you but for them. You didn’t know how many lies you could conjure or if you could keep the false smile on your lips. You clamped your hands together and watched a man in gold stroll out to the centre of the stadium with a cone to project his voice. You stood with May and Benjamin and the rest of the onlookers

“Fine ladies and gentlemen, princes, paupers, and everything in between, we welcome you in name of King Samuel to the Games of Goblets. For each competition, the victor is to be prized a goblet to bear as a symbol of his prestige. For the ax-throwing, bronze inlaid with amber, for the bow-and-arrow, silver set with citrine, for the melee, gold set with sapphire, and for the joust, a fine piece in gold set with opal and ruby.”

The crowd applauded and shouted. The man waited for them to quiet again, “This day, we begin with the melee, on the morrow, the axe, the next day, the arrow, and on the final day, we ride!”

Again, the audience grew rowdy and you were deafened by the cheers. The man laughed at the excitement and held up his hand for a final lull.

“Without further delay, let us begin. In our first round, the lower lords and the untested, before the second where they shall meet our season veterans, and so on…” he gauged the fervent tension of the people, “you will see me again upon the finale and perhaps you will be surprised by whoever stands with me.”

Again, the stand quaked with the energy of the people. You would have liked to sit but you stayed on your feet, afraid to draw unwanted attention. The first pair was announced but you didn’t watch. You stared at the sky or a rippling banner but had no interest in the games.

You only stopped to look as Peter’s name was called out and May grabbed your arm. She squealed as her nephew came out decked in his used armor, beaten out from its former user’s wear, and he unsheathed his sword to face his opponent. When the handkerchief was dropped, you were as stunned as his fellow competitor and the crowd by his swiftness. You’d never seen anyone move so fast, and in at least twenty pounds of armor.

The crowd awoke from their awe and cheered as his sword beat against the other man’s suit with tinks and tunks. It was like a bell, ding, ding, ding. It wasn’t until the other man was on his knees that the spar was ceased. Peter was declared the plain winner and sent on to wait for his next engagement. May wiped away tears of joy and Benjamin grumbled his approval.

You smiled, just a little. You were happy for Peter. You’d seen how joyful he was, he was likely dancing behind the curtain right now.

🏰

It wasn’t until the second round that Lord Barnes was introduced. He walked out fully armoured like any other combatant but his left arm was permanently bent, a shield strapped to it as he gripped his pommel in his right hand. He showed his steel and faced his match. He dealt hard and heavy blows until his opponent was on his back.

You shuddered at his unboasting victory as he wasn’t even patient enough to hear himself declared the winner. You touched your cold cheeks and puffed into the bitter air. The bodies around you warmed the stands but you were chilled to the core.

Peter appeared again in the second, then the third, fourth, and to his aunt and uncle’s delight, he soldiered onto the final. To your fear, he was to meet Lord Barnes. You tried not to squirm, not to show how nervous you were for Peter. You thought of running down and begging him to withdraw but what could you say? If anything, you’d both be worse for it.

As the last two banners were presented to the crowd, you sensed movement to your right. A familiar head of blond hair approached and the tall duke pushed past the row of people along the bench. Lord Rogers smirked as he came close, his sweaty hair drooping down his forehead from his last bout, the one he’d lost to his closest friend.

“Ah, I found you,” he said, “lady.”

You felt May peek past you and you gave a meek “my lord” as he stood close. He looked around you at the older couple.

“You have friends,” he stated, “please, do introduce us.”

You looked down and chewed your lip. You turned slowly to May and Benjamin, the latter peering past her only as he was torn from his fixation on the field.

“Lord Benjamin and Lady May Parker, baron and baroness,” you rubbed your hands together nervously, “Lord Steven Rogers, duke of Astrens.”

“Oh, we’ve heard of him,” May chirped, “my lord, it is an honour.”

“Indeed,” Benjamin agreed, “my lady, you did not inform of us of your lofty friends.”

“She is modest,” Rogers intoned, “we met by chance, really, through a common acquaintance.”

“You were skillful on the field, it is a pity you were bested,” May said.

“Very pitiful, I did put some gold on you, Lord Rogers,” Benjamin added, “alas it was a fine showing.”

“Wasn’t it?” he turned to stand with his arm pressed to yours, much too close for your liking, “however this one should be intriguing.”

“It’s our boy,” Benjamin said, “and your friend, my lord.”

“Perhaps you’d take another bet?” Rogers countered.

“I’ve lost enough this day,” Benjamin snorted, “I’d rather watch and be pleasantly surprised than paupered.”

“Prudence is wise but always so boring,” Rogers mused.

As the lower of the lords, Parker was announced first and you were saved from more uncomfortable banter by the man in grey. Rogers nudged you and bent as the introductions went long as the man with cone went into detail about the day’s fights all the way to the present match.

“I did look fine out there, didn’t I?” he whispered, “good form, even if I did lose. Barnes is in a mood and we both know that makes him… unpredictable.”

You lowered your head, “my lord.”

“You are quiet since last we met,” he remarked, “perhaps your thoughts linger on how else to use your mouth?”

You squirmed and stared at the competitors as they awaited their signal. Rogers laughed and stood straight as he focused on the field in kind. He played with your sleeve and tugged your arm down. He caressed the back of your hand and stepped even closer.

“When he wins, he might just be cheerful enough to share in his celebrations, hmm?” he said under his breath.

The gold cloth was dropped and the two men circled each other, eyeing their opponent cautiously. Barnes was the first to act but was evaded by the younger man. He didn’t not falter however as he swung again. Peter rolled under the strike and met it with his own steel, batting it away so that it nearly struck its holder.

Barnes dodged that time, then the boy spun again. They danced around each other, both swift, both calculating, both determined. Steel met steel but never that which clothed the fighters. May grabbed your other wrist as she held her breath.

Barnes laid a hit across Peter’s chestplate that made him stagger but he turned it into another lithe evasion. He snaked around the higher lord and hammered his false arm. The shield cracked in half and Peter ducked again.

Barnes was angry as he stabbed out. His blade was shoved away again and Peter jumped over the foot that tried to trip him up, a true achievement in armor.

You realised as Barnes laid a flurry of blows at the air that he was angry. The crowd silenced as the realisation fell over them and they watched as time seemed to slow. The duke was losing and he was enraged.

Peter jabbed the other man’s chest plated with his sword then hit his true arm. The sword bobbled in Barnes’ grip but he regained his hold on it. Too slow as Parker struck over and over, throwing him off balance, and sweeping him off his feet with a low lunge.

As Barnes clattered onto his back, the breath went out of him and every other person in the stadium. The man in grey shook away his shock and finally stepped forward.

“Our victor!” he grabbed Peter’s arm and raised it, “the Lord Parker!”

May hopped up and down and hugged her husband. Steve tutted and shook his head. Your eyes clung to Barnes as he sat up, forgotten in the dirt. His left arm was stuck at an angle away from his body and he reached up to force it back down.

Peter offered him his hand and was ignored. Barnes sheathed his sword and offered a curt bow before he exited. Rogers’ hand crawled up your arm and he gripped you. “Well, looks like we both will suffer his loss.”

For once, he spoke the truth.

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mademoisellehypergamy · 4 years ago

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Okay, in one of your posts you mention that boys aren’t the ones who set the standard for beauty. Can you explain that? Because I somewhat understand but also don’t fully? Like in my personal experience women have always been the one to criticize certain looks or body types but from one of my college history classes it was taught that when these beauty companies first came about they started to market a certain look as “beautiful” and the people in charge of these companies have been men. So I’m kind of confused because I can see both genders being apart of the unrealistic beauty standards a for women. Also, thanks to all your hypergamy advice. It has really upped my dating life although not without backlash from others 😂

Hi love, I have a story for you!

(For those of you who are wondering which post Anon is referring to, it’s this one: https://mademoisellehypergamy.tumblr.com/post/630376141687046144/ladies-if-youre-sensitive-in-denial-or-a-sjw)

I was invited to a party by a close connection, and this party was 99% white and in a predominately white area. I was the only black person in attendance, and had accepted the invitation to go because I was on a separate mission to track down a businessman that I had heard would be in attendance (had to place myself in the right position for us to encounter each other 😈).

Another person at the party was an upper-class white man who had a reputation for being emotional/over dramatic, self-centered, and spoiled (Let’s call this man “John”). John was the type of man who “only dated white women”, and I’d heard of him previously in one of my circles. Now I was on a mission to befriend an entirely different man, so I didn’t really think much about John aside from that. Just another spoiled rich boy.

But tell me why ladies that from the moment I stepped into the party, John never left my side? Why this man was foolishly trying to impress me with his experience, travels, wealth, and career? Why he was catering to my every whim? Why he was literally my lapdog for the entire night? This man was so smitten by me, another party guest grabbed me to the side and asked me, “Are you two a couple?”. Everyone was surprised at the party. Everyone but me, because I already understood the nature of men.

Now after the party, John made attempts for us to date, but I politely declined every time. My roster was full, and he had too many red flags.

So why did I tell you this story, ladies? Because beauty standards and preferences mean nothing to men. Their “preferences” will CRUMBLE in a moment when a hypergamous woman like us walks into the room. This is a concept that took me forever to realize. All my life, I thought beauty standards were created by men. Why did I think like this? Because I constantly saw women pushing for reform (body acceptance/positivity, encouraging women not having to shave, etc). If women were pushing for reform, obviously that means men were the ones perpetuating it... right? Wrong.

As I grew older and wiser, I realized something: Regardless of “beauty standards”, even if I just looked “decent”/”average” men would be attracted to me. Just look around ladies: some of our harshest critics are other women. That’s not to say men can’t be nasty and critical, absolutely not. But women (especially in your family), are more likely to criticize your appearance, weight, skin color, and existence than a man.

The core of it ladies is that (straight) men are attracted to women. Yes, beauty standards influence their ranking of women. But guess what else influences their ranking of women? Exposure. John had grown up in a predominately white community, and only dated white women. So naturally that was what he was accustomed to. But when I came in, a black woman who was the complete opposite of his “standard of beauty”, he still could not resist. Why? Because he’s a man after all. Men are simple: 1. Be a healthy weight 2. Look clean and put together 3. Dress somewhat cute 4. Have charisma

And boom! You automatically look “cute” or “pretty” to them. You don’t even have to reach that beauty standard to get men hot and bothered. You don’t!

Don’t blame beauty standards for holding you back. Just focus on looking your best and achieving your goals.

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nylwnder · 3 years ago

Text

goodnight n go | morgan rielly

gif by denis-scorianov

a/n: okay, i finished it and i'm sorta proud of how it turned out. its cute! i did my crappy take on trying to include suggestive content, and originally speaking there was gonna be more, but i just left it at this. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy!

warnings: swearing, suggestive content, friends to lovers, too shy to confess feelings trope type beat.

word count: 2k

taglist: @bb-nhlqueen7 , @hy-lander , @laurenairay , @frederikanderson , @pangburn , @brandtsclarke , @2manytabsopen

inspired by: goodnight n go by ariana grande

tonight, presented by the toronto maple leafs, there was an event thrown together for sponsors of the team to mingle about business and money and charity work and all that stuff with players (who were suggested to attend) and other management people. it wasn’t big big, like a charity ball, so in all honesty it was not expected for every single player on the leafs roster to attend. and one top line defenceman, was one who didn’t want to attend.

“it’s just going to be a bunch of talk with business men and i’m just so exhausted. i cant deal with them right now.” the man, sitting in my kitchen, whined.

he had a point. i had volunteered to accompany one of the boys if they didn’t have any dates, a usual thing i did as i was close friends with most of the youngsters. luckily all the attendees had dates of their own which let me off the hook. i wasn’t in the mood for putting on a dress and heels anyway.

“you’re the only person i wanna hang out with.” he said finishing his last slice of pizza. “i’m so happy we didn’t go” he then chuckled, grabbing hold of my hands who were aiming for his plate. i snickered, then reaching for the plate and making my way to the sink.

“well your welcome for my single ass that allows my schedule to literally be me at home doing absolutely nothing everyday!!!” i exclaimed, he laughed. “oh come on, you know you love it. you get to hang out with me all the time!”

“that’s a bit of a stretch morgan.”

he gasped, holding his chest acting oh so offended. i broke into a laugh, “i’m just kidding!!”. “you better be.”

i was. out of all the boys, ones which i love very much, i admire morgan the most. i mean what’s not to love? he’s sweet, he’s funny, considerate, smart (i will defend him if you think otherwise), and overall such a good person to everyone!!! i mean, come on… he’s also really cute.

making that he’s already made my apartment his home for today, he sat down and cuddled himself onto my couch trying to find something to watch while i quickly washed the handful of dishes i hadn’t had time to do. around 10, we finally found something to watch on netflix - we hadn’t gotten into peaky blinders yet so we settled on that and chilled, both of us pleased with each other’s presence.

when we had finished around three episodes, which were pretty long, i noticed the time already past midnight. i thought of asking him if he wanted to stay over, the weather being a little frosty outside and keeping in mind the fact that he had nothing to do tomorrow. but he had never stayed over before. surprising i know, considering that willy and kappy have done so many times. but i liked him here with me, that i sorta didn’t want him to go. i didn’t want to be alone, again.

“do you want to stay over?” i asked once the credits popped up at the end. “there’s a frost warning right now, so the streets are a bit messy.” i mumbled, walking away with the bowl of popcorn.

“do you want me to stay? i don’t want to be a bother. i heard you don’t like me over anyway” he snickered at the end. “oh come on i told u i was kidding! i mean… yeah i don’t mind.”

“okay then.” he said smiling, helping to bring the m&m’s bag to me as well. “do you have sheets i can borrow? it’s starting to get chilly.” he began rubbing his arms up and down, which led me to look at how jacked he really was to be honest. “umm yeah i think willy stuffed them in my closet, they’re in a bag at the bottom. there’s pillows in there too.” i told him, making my way to the bathroom.

my god, so i’m just starting to become way more horny about him huh? oh no i’m a whore, shit shit shit. no it’s fine, i’ve been around attractive men all the time, i can control myself. but though none of them are someone i wish i can kiss right now at this very moment. i mean… us alone, no teammates to be bothered by, ohhhh all the things we could do. stop y/n, no this is bad, this isn’t happening, no.

i quickly peed, brushed my teeth, and put my night cream on and headed out to the living room. morgan was preparing the couch with the sheets. “here.” i handed him the fluffy pillow. he smiled, gently taking it from my hand, ever so slightly touching my fingers. oh god y/n, keep it together. “i was just doing my night routine, but the bathroom is free now. i’ll go turn on the heat.”

i walked through the small hallway, leading into my room. stoping at the little white box stuck on the wall. i turned the heat on pretty high as the apartment was currently 16°. i heard the toilet flush and the faucet turn on, now just waiting for morgan to walk out.

“okay i turned the heat on, it takes a bit of time to work but yeah. goodnight!” “goodnight y/n!” he made his way to me, asking for a hug, which i immediately agreed to. “thanks for letting me stay here. i guess it’s sorta lonely at my place.” “of course, you know you’re always welcomed here mo!” we both smiled, and i stalled before letting him go and making my way to my room. “call me if you need anything”.

i slumped down on my bed. pulling my sheets to cover my cold feet. accepting the fact that i wasn’t going to stop thinking about morgan, i tried to get comfortable and fall asleep. though it was agonizing.

what must have been like 15 minutes, i still hadn’t felt the warm air begin to come into my apartment. which was odd, cause the longest it has taken was 10. i got up, the cold wood tile floors not helping my colder feet. i went to the thermostat, and saw the temperature was now 10°. i tried to turn the heat on again, but this time the light that normally turns on didn’t turn on again. i pressed all the buttons, slapped it a bit but nothing. my apartment started to get more cold, really fast - ahh, thank you canadian weather.

morgan came around the corner and walked towards me. “what’s wrong?” “i think the thermostat is broken!!” “are you sure?” he asks trying to turn it on.

but then he noticed no reaction. “shit, what are we gonna do??? i’m freezing my ass off. it’s already 8°!!!” i whined, “shit. umm, got sweaters?”

so we searched for all the sweaters in my closet and picked the thickest ones. we also grabbed some fuzzy socks to layer our feet with. “do they fit fine?” i asked, taking off my shirt while mo changed in the hallway.

i was changing in the room, naked from the top when morgan decided to walk in by accident. before both of us could react, he must have taken a good look of my breasts by accident, considering my position towards the door. but i’m not sure exactly how much he saw, as he quickly turned back to the hallway.

“shit shit, shitt, shittt, shittt fuck i’m so sorry!!!!!” i became embarrassed, of course, but i told him “it’s okay!! don’t worry about it. i was taking too long to change anyways haha”

morgan’s sweet so i don’t think he would do anything bad with it like maybe other people would *cough cough willy cough cough*.

i walked out, fully clothed, and you could see he was a bit red - just like me. we made our way to the kitchen and decided to make some warm milk so we could drink it before we headed back to bed again, trying to be warm.

“okay goodnight” i said tapping his shoulder before he walked away. did i just do that because i seeked physical touch from this man? maybe. “goodnight” he smiled back. oh god this isn’t helping.

i laid down and my morgan thoughts intensified. i couldn’t get the whole boob thing out of my mind. like holy shit he saw my boobs. ?????

it’s just that the way he laughs and that dorky smile he has, it always just makes my heart flutter. and i saw a bit of abs too when he took off his shirt when he headed to the hallway. so come on, yes my head was also thinking about that. plus all the other moments we’ve had since i’ve even met mo. and honestly, i think i love him, like very much!!!

my confidence slowly started to perk up. i mean, if i recall correctly, and i try to not be delusional, i think morgan can like me back. i’ve had my fair share of shy, loving looks and i’m pretty sure mo has too. i’ve never really seen him laugh the same way he laughs with me. i think i’m getting somewhere with this.

though i could have misread everything he’s ever directed to me and he could possibly friendzone me hard if i would go out to the living room and confess my feelings.

but, let’s not think the worst…. ignoring how my introverted mind still continued to say hell to the no. but i’ve honestly never felt more comfortable and safe with any other man so i was actually not too shocked to see myself get enough confidence to actually get up.

i hesitated before i walked out and was startled to see morgan right in front of me heading to my direction. we stopped mid track and looked at each other. seeing bits of lust flowing in our eyes and we started to laugh a bit.

“you look really cute in that sweater.” i say, chortling. morgan laughs back and says “yeah? you look good in yours too!”

we walk to each other and he places his chilled hand on my cheek, leaning in until we gently kiss. we break it, in need for some air and start giggling a bit. i then kiss him again, grabbing hold of his sweater and pulling him to the direction of my room. we break the kiss, morgan softly laying me down on the bed - he followed after.

“y/n, i think i love you. i really really love you.” he says quietly, looking into my eyes. “morgan, i love you. i always have, and i always will.” i say, cupping his face and smiling widely on how nice it feels to get that off both of our chests.

he kisses me again, harder and more passionate this time. my hand running through his light brown curls, his hands running up my sweater, holding my sides. as he moves down to my neck, i chuckled “well this must be the best way to warm up tonight. don't you think?!” “mmm, indeed. entirely more effective!” we both shared a few laughs, never taking our hands off of each other. aching for each other’s warmth.

with morgan hovering over me, i didn't feel that cold when he slipped off my oversized sweater. though, my nipples still detecting the chilly air. “i haven't been able to get them off my mind” morgan says, laughing to himself. “morgan!” i say softly punching his arm. “how much did you see?” i asked, still curious.

“enough to know they are beautiful!” he smiles kissing around the outline of them. i snicker, butterflies filling my stomach, especially with his teasing sensation. “mm, they say thank you!” he laughs, “can i show them how much i love them?” “yes” i breathlessly say, as he takes hold of my sensitive bud.

moans filled the room, the early hours ready to creep in soon. we completely forgot about the cold apartment, morgan also abandoning the couch. but its okay, cause nothing seemed more important than this.

after all the nights we’ve said goodnight, both of us wanting to spend time together but never having the urge to say it. after all the lonely nights thinking about each other on our empty beds. tonight, we spend it together, in one bed, perfectly in love with one another.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly smut #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fluff #nhl smut #morgan rielly fluff #hockey imagine #hockey writing #hockey fic

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outro-tearist · 4 years ago

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paws of paradise - chapter 2 {bangtan ot7 x reader}

hi everybody! sorry for the inactivity but idek how to do a schedule ever. i think that maybe once a week is what i'm shooting for, but i honestly have no plot and im making it up as i go!

as per usual, i'd appreciate comments, thoughts, suggests, anons, anything! have a great day!

~silver~

chap 1 chap 2 chap 3

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“Shit.” (Y/N) whispered. Not only were there two new dogs today, but Jimin also couldn’t make it to help with walking today.

Kim Yeontan and Jeon Gureum had joined the roster of new regulars, and while she appreciated the support of her business in the bustling city, she couldn’t help but stress over the fact that so many people were becoming dependent on her.

This was the busiest day she had seen ever since she had packed from her old home in a small countryside town. As the small town stereotype goes, everybody knew everybody in her hometown. She was mostly known for being a farmer’s daughter and having a preference for animals over humans.

After spending most of her teenage years hanging out in barns of cows, horses, goats, and other farm animals, she had realized her passion was helping and caring for them.

At the same time, (Y/N) was bored of her small-town life and wanted to experience the hustle that city life promised. She could have easily gotten a grooming job somewhere in the country but decided that it would be best for her to move to Seoul.

She had never once regretted her decision, but that does not mean it was easy for (Y/N) in any way. Buying a shop, getting certified to groom, remodeling her shop, finding an affordable apartment, and getting a small job before her shop opened were just a few struggles she had fought through.

“You little- c’mon Gureum! I have yummy treats!! Mmmmmmm come get some.” (Y/N) baby talked to the small white dog. He seemed to laugh in her face as it turned around and continued to jump around Yeontan and another larger dog that she forgot the name of.

Gureum seemed to instigate the most trouble out of all the dogs she had met. She would always find the “dynamic duo” (Jimin’s nickname for Gureum and Yeontan) prancing around the other dogs and creating chaos. Yeontan would usually stop when told but would be roped back in by Gureum to run around and bark wildly.

“Gureum! C’mere boy,” a new voice called from behind (Y/N). Apparently, somebody had come into the back of the shop and she didn’t even hear the bell.

She let out a small shriek as he rushed past her legs and made her lose her balance. She desperately tried to regain her balance but unfortunately fell backward. She closed her eyes to brace for the ass flattening she would receive but was only met with a firm chest and bulging arms wrapping around her quickly.

“Oh my gosh! Are you okay Noona?!” the young boyish-faced with the largest build she had seen called out to her.

(Y/N) looked up at the boy with bunny teeth and quickly pushed herself up and off his chest. “AH! Yes! I am all good now,” she chuckled awkwardly. “Um, how did you get back here?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you! I thought you’d heard the bell in the front but then I saw you struggling with him so I thought I would help a little.”

“Is Gureumie yours?”

The boy bashfully ducked his head as he leaned down to pet the calmest version of the white dog the girl had ever seen. “Ah, yeah. My hyungs say that he and I are kinda similar but I don't see it… Anyways, they also told me that you are the best groomer around, and from how he looks now, I think I’ll be here more often.”

“Wow… Thank you, and tell your hyungs thanks too! What’s your name so I can log him out?” (Y/N) was so excited to hear people giving her small shop good reviews. It meant that all her hard work actually meant something.

“I’m Jeon Jeongguk, and I’ll let Namjoon hyung and Seokjin hyung know. They’ll be happy you thought of them too.” he smiled brightly and picked his still wiggly dog up.

“Have a great day! Hope to see you soon.” (Y/N) smiled at Jeongguk as he walked out of the shop. She walked into the back only to see Yeontan jumping up on Jimin.

“Jimin! I thought you were busy today- and how’d you get in?” (Y/N) grinned at her coworker. She felt her cheeks warm and her heart beat a little faster now that he was here, but she brushed it off as soon as Jimin responded.

“The back door is always opened, like usual. And I still am but I just wanted to stop by… check-in and make sure you’re doing alright?” Jimin started somewhat nervously. (Y/N) giggled a little bit as she stood a little closer in order to pet the dog in Jimin’s arms.

“Well, Jimin, I am doing very well right now. In fact, I walked all the dogs AND finished the appointments scheduled so far. Maybe you need to step up your game on dog walking.” (Y/N) teased lightly.

Jimin scoffed, “Oh please, you wouldn’t have hired me if you didn’t need to. Admit it, you need me to be here.”

This statement made (Y/N) freeze up a little. He was her first friend that she had met in Seoul, and thanks to him, she was able to achieve everything she had wanted and more. The girl softened a little bit and looked up into Jimin’s eyes.

“You’re right. I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me. Thank you so, so much.” she expressed her gratitude gently.

Jimin seemed to fluster at this, not expecting a genuine response from his coworker as he stuttered and stumbled to find new words. Luckily for the blushing man, the tinkling bell sounded from the front of the store.

“Hello, welcome to Paradise Pet Groomers, what can I do for you two?” (Y/N) politely asked the men as she walked out of the backroom. “Ah, Yoongi-ssi, good to see you!”

“Likewise.” the stoic man responded. He had Holly on a leash as his dog smelled the second man who walked in with another incredibly handsome man. His face seemed to be perfectly chiseled and he seemed to be a few inches taller than Yoongi standing next to him.

“Hi, Taehyung-ssi. Jimin will be right out with Yeontannie. And Yoongi-ssi, I’ll grab Holly now if you’d tell me what sort of cut you’d like for him.” (Y/N) smoothly managed the two customers.

“Taehyungie!” Jimin shouted as he ran out from the back with Yeontan. Taehyung greeted him back just as excited, and (Y/N) couldn’t help the twists of jealousy that ran through her veins as they seemed so happy to see each other. Despite that, she forced a grin on her face to turn back to Yoongi, who had brought him back into the grooming area.

“Just do the same cut as last time, please. Holly looked good like that.” Yoongi’s deep voice grumbled as he bent down to say goodbye. He let out a few small high-pitched squeals as (Y/N) watched through the window as Jimin and Taehyung were hugging.

Fuck. That should not have made her feel as angry as it did. Yoongi seemed to notice the tension that entered the air as he cleared his throat.

“Oh- sorry. Holly’s cut should only take about an hour and a half, so we’ll see you soon!” (Y/N) tried to crush the bitterness in her voice, but it was useless. Yoongi had to have noticed it, but he didn’t say anything. All he said was, “See you soon, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) took in a strained deep breath, and picked up Holly just as Jimin’s blushing face entered through the back again.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stay longer, but-”

“It’s fine. See you later Jimin.” (Y/N) cut him off shortly. Jimin’s eyebrows raised as he began to wonder what had happened when he was talking to- he blushed a little bit more thinking of Taehyung.

“Did Yoongi say anything? Are you alright…?” Jimin asked tentatively.

“No! I-I’m fine. Sorry to worry you, but you should get going. Don’t wanna be late to wherever you’re going.” Jimin’s shocked face hurt (Y/N) to look at, so she looked down at Holly and brought him to the baths.

“Oh. Right. I guess I’ll get going then.” Jimin stared at her a bit sadly before he awkwardly walked out the backdoor. “Oh my god Holly what is wrong with me.” (Y/N) said to the small brown poodle. He simply panted happily as she scratched behind his ears as the warm water flowed down his back.

#bts #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan #bts jimin #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #bts rm #bts jhope #bts suga #bts jin #bts v #bangtan boys

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jigenshat · 3 years ago

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I feel like the lupgang definitely havent kept their original set of teeth.

Lupin has gotten his teeth knocked out so many times by so many people its sorta obvious most of his teeth are just shit he pays to get done by some off the roster dentist, to the point where he expects atleast 2 teeth to be gone when hes back from a violent heist.

Jigen on the other hand is a gunman. He barely has any lost teeth except for the fact he probably has horrible hygiene at times. He has 2-3 missing teeth and he honestly doesn't give that much of a shit abt it, who would be looking into his mouth of all places??

Goemon is probably the only one who doesn't have underlying teeth issues except for the fact he's been punched just as much as lupin has. But, he hates dentists. Its offputting and uncomfortable and honestly just creeps him the hell out. For the most part though, he has no problem just taking care of his teeth himself.

You heard it here folks, lupin teeth hcs. I never thought i'd utter that sentence in my life but since im goemon irl how would u be so surprised w the fact i make eerily specific hcs out of nowhere

you know this is a weird thing to bring up but also like yeah it makes perfect sense.

lupin has been close to ground into a pulp multiple times. it’s a wonder he has all his limbs let alone teeth. i can only assume they are long gone. since he’s a ‘master of disguise’ this probably comes in pretty useful. everyone’s teeth are extremely unique and i can only assume it would easily give someone away. having a few sets of dentures is definitely a bizarre extreme i can see lupin going to for the bit. he definitely has vampire fangs at the least, that’s pretty much canon. although its a bit off-putting to think of lupin’s gummy mouth between denture changes it’s certainly an edge he has over anyone else who thinks they come close to his disguise abilities. he may even be rocking some prosthetics. how does he still have 10 fingers at least. honestly it’d be pretty cool to see a reveal of a hyper realistic prosthetic arm or something.

since jigen hates the dentist but also regularly has problems with his teeth it can only be assumed that his mouth is disgusting. missing teeth, chipped teeth, lots of cavities. on top of all that he smokes like a chimney and hasn’t not had alcohol in his system for at least 15 years. nothing gets a chance to heal, everything is constantly in pain and bleeding excessively. he takes way too many painkillers to try to combat the discomfort but has grown completely numb to their effects and uses them purely out of habit. it’s made his blood even thinner and more useless at clotting and healing. even a small cut will not resolve itself since his body is in such a constant miserable state.

goemon probably cares for himself the most. which is pretty alarming he also sees his life as having very little value. but compared to his partners he’s the epitome of a functioning human being. he regularly washes, brushes and flosses his teeth, cuts his hair to a practical length, and eats healthily. his teeth are very average. he’s had trouble with them like anyone else but hasn’t been careless enough to let someone throw their entire fist in his face, and also doesn’t have a strange fear of the dentist. lupin and jigen are very impressed that he’s managed to keep a full set of teeth in his line of work. goemon doesn’t understand how these two men are known as the greatest thief and greatest gunman when they can’t even maintain their own body parts.

#lupin and jigen would literally be crumbs on the floor without goemon #lupin iii #jigen #goemon #hcs #/

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catxsnow · 5 years ago

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OLD WOUNDS PT. TWO

Summary: Dick’s words broke you more than a bullet ever could, it was time to fix that once and for all. No matter the outcome.

Warning: angst, some swears

A/N: Part two babyyyyy. Wasn’t planning on this but I’m glad that I did!

Word count: 3.5k

GIF not mine

Part one

It took weeks for your bullet wound to heal. Weeks of not being able to go out on the streets, weeks of being stuck at home, and weeks with nothing to do except for think about the words that Dick Grayson lashed out to you.

You knew that he was being honest about what he was thinking. Dick never yelled at you unless there was a reason and this one was loud and clear. Dick hated you. He hated you for leaving everyone behind without a second thought. He hated you for abandoning the people that you once called family.

And he was right to do so. You left for your own benefit and didn't think about anyone else while doing so. It was selfish of you, and you regretted it. Of course you did, leaving them left you with no one. You had been alone for years. You didn't want the pain of Jason and Wally's deaths leaning on you, or anyone else that you couldn't save.

Those weeks had left you in a mess. Sleepless nights of wondering how different things would be if you hadn't left. Stressing over whether or not you should ever show your face outside of your apartment again. Most of all, you felt the kind of sadness in your chest that never truly went away.

Dick's words hurt more than the bullet he took out of you.

It was what you needed to hear. You needed to know that you hurt so many people because of your actions. The pain that he cracked against you like a whip stung deep, but the true pain came from knowing that everything was your fault. You took his happiness, and you ruined him for years.

Babs, Kori, they were better than you, they always had been. Morally, skillfully, they always won against you and yet Dick wasn't happy with either of them. He was happy with you and you broke him in return.

By the time that your wound had healed, you needed to get out of your home. You needed the fresh air, the harsh punches against criminals. That was the night that you wouldn't mind if a thug got the upper hand on you.

You had left Gotham the moment you left the Wayne Manor. It wasn't fair of you to stick around after already causing so much pain. Home was only a few cities over, you could never bring yourself to veer too far off.

It felt refreshing to leap from roof top to roof top. The crisp cold air woke you up out of the sluggish state you had been in. This was what you lived for, fighting crime and bringing peace to the people. It was too bad that you could never bring peace with your friends, if they dared to call you that anymore.

That night, you had taken down a few people. An idiotic thief, a pickpocketer, a group of men who were getting a too handsy with an innocent woman. The moment you jumped from the roof you knew that you were way outnumbered. There were too many men at once and you were stuck right in the middle of it all.

It was what you felt like you deserved. More punches than you normally would receive, but not enough that you couldn't take these bastards down. By the time the last one fell to the ground, blood dripped down your cheek and your lips. You spit out a mix of saliva and blood and stormed away from the scene.

The rest of the night was quiet, and quiet was what you were trying to avoid. It wasn't until you passed by your old hideout did you finally stop. It was well abandoned now, you hadn't been there since leaving the team. With a sigh, you headed over to the building. The access code was still the same - Dick's birthday.

Dust covered all the computers but nothing had been changed. You spent a lot of hours in that room. Between you and Dick, it was easy to clock in over thirty hours a week there. You spent a lot of time with him there and being inside only brought back memories that you were trying to diminish, not resurface.

However, you pushed on. You flipped the lights on in the room, looking around at everything that you once had. Dick was right, this was your fault. Everything that happened was because you weren't strong enough to be there.

You fingers trailed over the desks and you walked towards the Zeta Tube Bruce allowed you to have. It made it a hell of a lot easier to get to the mountain or the watchtower rather than going all the way over to Gotham. The machine whirred to life, and with a moments of hesitance, you typed in where you wanted to go.

The likeliness that they kept your name in the roster was slim, and you were sure that it wasn't even going to work. However, when you were beamed out of the room and to the Watchtower, you were more surprised than anything. The robotic voice spent chills down your spine as you arrived.

The Watchtower looked the same as it always had. Cold, empty, never home. Mount Justice had been your home for many years when you finally settled from going from mentor to mentor. The team was the first time that you ever felt like you had a stable life. Leaving it and having to come all the way up there? It never felt right.

You didn't realize you were walking towards the large window that overlooked Earth. A smile made its way to your face as you thought about the amount of times that you and Dick would watch from above. You spent hours with him up there, watching, talking, simply loving him and everything there was to him.

Fuck, did you miss him.

The loss of him hadn't hurt you this badly in so long. Seeing him again destroyed you just as much as him. You hadn't realized how much you missed having him by your side, whether it was fighting crime or in bed. You needed him in your life and it had been years since you had him.

"It's been a long time."

"Bruce," you acknowledged. You hadn't heard him come up behind you but you knew the sound of his voice. "I'm surprised you didn't cut off my access. Not very Batman of you."

"It was Tim that insisted," Bruce finally stood by your side. You could hear the underline in his voice though: Tim, not Dick. Tim always looked up to you when he had the mantle of Robin. He copied your fighting style in many ways and had a similar thought process to yours. You didn't know how he felt after you left.

Tim and Dick were as close as any non-blood related brother could be. During missions, Dick relied on Tim to be the leader of the group, he knew that he could handle things when things got tough. You both did. Tim was just another poor soul that you crushed upon your leaving.

"I take it you healed just fine?" Bruce continued upon your silence. You managed to avoid him, and anyone else in the Manor as you left that night. You weren't surprised that he had still managed to find out about your brief visit.

"Physically, you bet," you nodded. This time, Bruce picked up on your tone - Dick had laid a new one on you. He didn't know what conversation went on between the two of you but Dick had been on edge and snappy ever since you left. "Thank you, for saving me. I owe you one - I owe you lots."

"You could come back," Bruce looked over at you. His lips were in a tight line and his eyes couldn't be seen beneath his cowl. The long black cape draped his shoulders and you couldn't help but wish that you too had a cape to hide within. "We could use you on the team, either team."

"It's been years, Bruce," you sighed. I'm not welcome back, was more like it. You felt traitorous to even show up there, you couldn't consider rejoining the team. When the pain of your friends deaths started to dim, you dared showed your face there again? No, that wouldn't fly with half the members of the team. Dick wouldn't allow it.

You couldn't put him through that. He could barely meet your eyes, how did you ever expect that he would trust you again on a mission? Or trust you to have his or anyone else's back? No, your spot on the team was long gone, you didn't deserve it anymore.

"I'm not the same person that I used to be," you continued. Bruce looked at your bloody, bruised face. Beneath your mask, he could see the outline of fresh purple bruises. A small cut dragged across your cheek and although you tried to wipe the blood from your busted lip, some of it was still smeared around your mouth. In all the years that he knew you, you would never allow someone to get that many face hits - this was on purpose.

It wasn't just the beaten face you referred to. It was the aggression. Your tactics became more violent, less with the law. It was hard to maintain a sense of justice when justice killed your friends. Doing the right thing didn't always get your somewhere in life, it got you killed.

Even your suit had changed. Oliver had designed your original one. It was form fitting, covered any exposed skin and protected your from the harms of your world. Now, you showed off a dangerous amount of skin, not caring what could happen to you.

"Dick has gone through too much in his life, I can't put him through this," you pulled your mask off with a sigh. You eyes that once shone bright at the sight below you were now cold and sharp. Bruce could see the exhaustion on your face and how much being back here was tearing you apart.

"I did a lot of bad things in my life but leaving him was the worst thing I could have done. Doing things right by him isn't me joining the team again, it's me leaving, for good. I'm not coming back Bruce, ever," You fished out the device that he had given you and handed it over to him. He never made a move to grab it. "I can't keep causing pain in other peoples lives just to try and lessen my own pain. Leaving for good might just solve that."

Bruce reached into his belt to pull out a small velvet box. He handed it over to you and with confusion in your eyes, you grabbed it. Inside was a ring, an engagement ring.

"Weeks before Jason died, Dick was going to give this to you," Bruce told you. Tears stung your eyes and your throat tightened up. It had been just over three years that the two of you were dating before Jason died. "He wanted Jason to be one of his groomsmen., Wally to be his best man."

"Why are you telling me this?" You didn't want to hear about how you ruined his plans for his future. You didn't want to know that Dick loved you enough that he wanted to marry you. The reality of how much you hurt him amplified.

"Running from your problems was what caused this in the first place," Bruce didn't accept the ring or the beacon as you tried to hand both back to him. "Dick and I don't always see eye to eye on things, but we both knew that you were good for him."

Bruce said nothing else to you. He glanced down at the items in your hand once more before leaving. The velvet box in your hand seemed to be burning a hole into it. The idea of marrying Dick would once excite you, bring you joy about your future with him because at one point he was your future. Now? Now all you could feeling was the unwelcoming pain of shame.

"Fuck," you muttered. You crouched down, the ring box pressed to your forehead as you tried to decipher your thoughts. Dick was the love of your life all those years ago and you truly fucked that up. No greater mistake could have been made on your behalf. "Fuck."

Why hadn't you just stayed? Why did you have to make the unwise choice of leaving for your own benefit? To pull yourself away from the people that you cared about so that if they ever got hurt you wouldn't have to feel heartbreak? Where did that get you? At home, miserable because you had no one. Miserable because you knew that just as much as you missed your friends, they missed you more.

All this time you thought that you left to avoid the pain, but being back here? That hurt you more than all those years away. The reminder that you once had people that would trust you with their life, that wanted to spent their life with you. Now, you had no one. No one would be willing to take a misfit like you back into their life, not after they had just gotten back to where they were before you left.

Maybe it would have been easier to not have pressed that beacon. Maybe it would have been easier to let those men take you. Whatever pain that they would have inflicted upon you had to have hurt less than what you were feeling now. Emotional pain never went away, physical wounds healed.

You wanted to apologize to Dick. You wanted to tell him how you really felt about these past years but you knew he wouldn't stay long enough to hear you out. Hell, you didn't even have a way of contacting him. The device in your hand suddenly felt heavy. You had one way of getting him to come to you.

"Fuck," you repeated one last time. With the ring weighing you down in the other hand, you pressed the button. Who knows if he would even come but you needed to see him once more. If he truly wanted you out of his life, you would heed to his words - trying to force your way back in wasn't going to be fair to him.

You stood there and waited. The Earth below you was cascaded with darkness as the sun had been on the other side. Darkness of the world seemed to be no less dark than you.

Your heart raced as you heard the animated voice - someone was arriving in the zeta tube. You stood there, still facing the large window that cast into space. Being all the way up here made everything down there feel impossible irrelevant. All the problems that you had within the planet seemed to disappear.

"Why are you here?"

Dick. You turned to face him, unsure of what you wanted to say. There were so many things racing through your head and none of them seemed good enough to even sightly make up for what you did. Nothing you could say would ever make up for it, but you hoped that maybe Bruce was right, maybe there was hope for redemption.

The anger that was on his face fell to one of worry as he saw the state of your face. The bruises that covered your jaw, cheeks, and the blood that had dried up on your skin. No matter how angry he ever was at you, even when you were still here, he was always concerned with your safety first.

"What happened?" He changed his statement. Dick stood at your side, his hand reaching up to look over what was wrong. No matter how tender his touch was, you couldn't help but flinch away. You didn't deserve his comfort. Dick's hand dropped back down to his side.

"Nothing I didn't deserve," you assured. He was in his civilian clothes, but he looked tired. Bags were under his eyes, his shoulders drooped while his hands were in his pockets. "I know you don't want to see me, but I wanted to talk with you."

"I'm here," Dick surmised. That was enough to tell you that though he didn't want to be there, he would listen to what you had to say. However, his gaze went from your face down to your hands, he recognized the small box in your hand. "Where did you get that?"

His voice became harsh. So harsh that you winced and cowered back. Wish shaky hands, you handed him the ring. "Bruce," you answered. "Dick I could apologize to you a thousand times and it would never be enough to make up for what I did, I know that. I could announce to the whole world that I'm a fuck up and that I deserve to be frowned upon and that wouldn't come close to enough.

"Fuck, I know that there is nothing in this world that can make up for my mistakes. What I did, to you, the rest of the team, it was awful of me. I know that. I shouldn't have left but you were right: I am weak. I was too weak to face my fears so I ran. If I would have known better, I should have ran to you instead of away, but I didn't.

"It's too late to change things, to change what I did. I just hope that one day that you won't have to look at me with that same anger in your eyes that you have right now." You played with the small velvet box between your fingers. With a sigh, you handed it back over to him. "You deserve a happy life Dick, and after all of this, the life shouldn't have to include me."

Dick grabbed the ring from you. "I bought this less than a year after we started dating," Dick finally spoke after a long moment of silence. You couldn't tell what he was thinking. "I knew I wanted to marry you. After being friends for so long, I couldn't picture myself with anyone else. You were always the one."

"I'm sorry I ruined that," you sighed. You looked down at the mask that you held in your hands. It was the one that Dick got you when you first joined the team. Even if your costume changed, you couldn't bare to part with it. Reluctantly, you handed that over to him as well. He smiled a little as he held it.

"I came to say goodbye, Dick," his gaze abruptly shifted from the mask, to your bruised eyes. "I put you through too much in this lifetime, I can't keep doing this to you. I figured after all this time, a proper goodbye would do us good. I understand that you don't want me here anymore, I understand no one does."

"I never said that," Dick cut you off. "I never said I didn't want you here. It wasn't fair of me to blow up at you the other night, I'm sorry for being so reactive but I'm not sorry for what I said. You left us, you ran away, but if you truly want to make things right, then you need to stop running.

"You want to make up for everything that you've done? You work your ass off here, on this team. You lead the kids to make the right choices and not to make the same mistakes that you did. That's how you earn my forgiveness, that's how you make things right with the team, with your friends."

Your head hung low. "If you want me to stay, I'll stay. If you want me to leave, I'll leave. Whatever choice you make, I promise you with my life that I will stick with it."

There was another silence between you. Dick's gaze turned away from you and towards the window. "We spent a lot of hours here, looking down at the world that we give our lives to protect. Couldn't bring myself to spend a lot of time here after you left," He honestly told you. Dick handed your mask back to you. "I'm tired of seeing you walk away."

"Then I won't. Ever again," You grabbed your mask from his hand. The same calloused hands that would cup your face when you were feeling scared, the ones that would grab your own hands when you needed comfort, the ones that fought against so many people to protect you.

"Dick, I-" you cut yourself off with a staggered breath. You wanted to tell him so many things: I love you, I never stopped missing you, I want to be yours again. You couldn't. If Dick ever wanted you back again, it would have to be on his terms, not your own. You didn't even know if he ever wanted that.

It didn't matter though. You would live a lifetime in pain just to make him happy for even a second.

"I'm glad to be back."

tagged: @gotta-get-back-to-johnlock thanks for getting me to do a part 2!

#dickgrayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson oneshot #young justice #young justice imagine #dc #dc imagine #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #bruce wayne #catxsnow writes

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rawiswhore · 4 years ago

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Various WWF Wrestlers, the Godfather x Fem Reader- "Pimps Up, Hoes Down"

I know I type my fanfics in patterns, but today just so happens to be the Godfather's birthday (and I mean the Godfather the wrestler, not the 1972 Francis Ford Coppola classic) and I wanted to type this fanfic...

_____________________________________________________________

The World Wrestling Federation's Attitude era of the late 90's and early 2000's didn't exactly treat women in the most positive light.

From the female roster, even women who were respectable female wrestlers instead of just valets, doing bra & panties and evening gown matches, which involved 2 women trying to rip the clothes and dress off of another woman until she was down to a bra and panties, as well as doing the equally degrading mud and pudding bowl matches where 2 women dressed in bikinis would wrestle each other in an inflatable pool filled with chocolate pudding or mud, to wrestlers playing misogynistic jerks (i.e. Jeff Jarrett) that hated women, Trish Stratus forced to strip her clothes off and bark like a dog, Stephanie McMahon getting called a "slut" by the audience when she's far from one and getting married through a drive thru wedding while unconscious, this era didn't really treat women with the utmost of respect.

The way women were mostly treated during this period is something that has not aged well.

And to make matters worse, arguably the most over (meaning something the audience really enjoys in wrestling lingo) mid card wrestler during the WWF's Attitude era was the Godfather, whose character was a pimp that would bring out a group of beautiful, scantily clad prostitutes with him.

A pimp is not something to glorify and normalize, considering these are men that sell women out to have sex with men just to make money, and if these women don't make enough money, their pimp will beat them.

To top it all off, the Godfather was also African American, so it's also a gimmick that negatively stereotypes and portrays black people.

The Godfather went from being in a Black Panthers influenced faction known as the Nation of Domination, and the Black Panthers were a group of black people that fought for civil rights and to be treated with respect, to playing a pimp with a group of hoes.

The wrestling character you'll always be remembered for is for playing a sexually promiscuous slut who seduced whatever man you thought was sexy, mostly in the wrestling world.

In 1998, you blew up in popularity when you played that promiscuous nymphomaniac character for obvious reasons.

Near the end of 1998, there was a "Monday Night Raw" storyline where the Godfather, who knew about your slutty, sex obsessed persona you blatantly showed to everyone, made you a part of his iconic Ho Train because you're a horny slut.

The Godfather would offer one of his hookers to a wrestler he was having a match with, and your character was unsure about who the Godfather was gonna give you out to.

During a "Monday Night Raw" episode at the end of 1998, when a vignette playing the guitar riff to Slam Jam's "We're All Together Now" began playing, The Godfather ushered you to the locker room with his arm wrapped behind your shoulders.

You were dressed in a cleavage bearing spaghetti strapped crop top with a matching miniskirt and Lucite stripper heels, looking all the most like a prostitute.

Though, during the majority of "Monday Night Raw" episodes you did dress like a prostitute since your character was a slut.

The males in the audience got out of their seats and cheered when they saw both you and the Godfather, some of the males even wolf whistled at you.

As you and the Godfather entered the men's locker room, some other wrestlers were inside that locker room, and the Godfather proudly announced how even though you've had some of these wrestlers before (as in, having sex with them and seduced them), he wants to give you to them again.

These wrestlers in the locker room were Triple H, Shawn Michaels, Billy Gunn, Val Venis, Christian, Jeff Hardy, Test, Steven Regal and Kane.

These aforementioned wrestlers were standing at their lockers or sitting on the bench in the middle of the room, and they turned their heads when they heard the Godfather state how you're one of his hoes.

Triple H, Shawn, Billy and Val had their hair hanging down, not tied back in a ponytail or little braids, because you like it when they look like this.

Some of these wrestlers, in particular Triple H, Billy Gunn, Shawn Michaels and Val Venis, smiled when they saw that you were one of the Godfather's hoes.

When you and the Godfather had walked to the middle of the locker room, the guitar riff to Slam Jam's "We're All Together Now" had ceased from playing, but these aforementioned wrestlers in the locker room had walked up to where you and the Godfather were, some of these wrestlers smiling at you.

You smiled when you saw Triple H, Shawn, Billy and Val walk up to you as well as Jeff Hardy, Christian and even Steven Regal.

You didn't have to be one of the Godfather's hoes, he could've just taken one of his regular hoes and offered her to these men in the locker room, but since you play a slutty nymphomaniac...

"Well, since you're now a prostitute" Triple H mentioned as he walked up to you, smiling as he approached you. "I'll let you...'suck it'!"

His hands crossed at the wrists and slammed a few inches above his crotch when he shouted "suck it!", his genitals thrusting forward as he shouted that catchphrase.

"And I don't mean that as an insult!" Triple H added with his hands still in that "x" shape.

Billy Gunn, Val Venis, and Shawn Michaels cackled, smiled from ear to ear and laughed when Triple H exclaimed that obscene catchphrase, and Triple H shouting that catchphrase got a major pop from the audience, especially the males, getting out of their seats and cheering.

You then crouched down to the floor until your face was in front of Triple H's crotch, where his hands and fingers looked like they were unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.

Shawn's hands were in front of his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, laughing and smiling from ear to ear.

The women in the audience got out of their seats and shrieked and cheered that Triple H and Shawn Michaels unzipped and unbuttoned their pants, hoping to see they were gonna whip their cocks out.

Billy Gunn was grabbing onto the sides of his shorts, looking like he was gonna pull them down.

In the meantime, some of these other wrestlers, like Steven Regal, Jeff Hardy, Test, Christian and even Kane were circling around you, Steven was unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.

Just as you looked like you were about to give Triple H and the rest of these wrestlers a blowjob, it cut to the WWF's arena, much to the dismay of the audience and people watching this on television.

It was implied you were these wrestler's mindless cockslave and fucktoy, they were all gonna do what they wanted to do to you and you were to obey and listen to them.

Next year, when the Godfather was still at the height of his wrestling popularity, you disguised yourself as one of his hoes wearing a wig and a skintight dress, only to pull that wig off of your head and beat the tar out of the Godfather by grabbing his cane.

No, this wasn't you being racist, you're just attacking him since, well, his pimp character isn't something to glorify...

I hope I haven't said this yet, but my professional wrestling original character I've created and told you about, about her character being a nymphomaniac-like slut who did a lot of slutty things during the Attitude and Ruthless Aggression era...

I wonder if my original character really did exist during those eras, what today's generation of female wrestlers, specifically ones in the WWE, would've thought of her?

Some female wrestlers today did grow up on the Attitude and Ruthless Aggression eras, and many of today's female WWE stars have admitted they hate/hated those bra & panties and evening gown matches and bikini contests, lingerie pillow fights, and bikini in mud wrestling matches, some have admitted they'd never do a bra & panties match and want to be taken seriously as wrestlers, they've also admitted growing up they were idolizing female wrestlers like Lita and Molly Holly.

They probably would've found my female pro wrestling original character slutty and skanky, as would most underage girls and grown women who never became wrestlers.

They'd probably even be jealous of her since she got to be close with Jeff Hardy, Christian, Shawn Michaels, D Generation X-era Triple H, Scott Hall and even Rob Van Dam who were hot AF then and massive sex symbols lusted over by fans.

#the godfather #triple h #shawn michaels #billy gunn #jeff hardy #val venis #christian #test #steven regal #kane #wwf #attitude era #wwf attitude #1998 #90s #fanfiction #birthday #happy birthday

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glimmerglanger · 4 years ago

Text

Whumptober 2020 - Day 8

Day 8 of Whumptober, part 8 of the oof!au. Not sure how today is going to work because.... tumblr is formatting everything wrong and this is very long. I didn’t want to post over on ao3 until the whole thing was complete, but I might have to for tomorrow (which is over 5k for the “rescue” prompt and that’s SO LONG). ANYWAY, maybe they’ll fix whatever they broke today.

General info: Post Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Past/eventual Codywan. One-sided Vaderwan. Eventual happy(ish) ending. Please read the warnings.

WARNINGS: Mind control trauma, mind controlled into hurting people, references to past torture and past non-con, brain trauma, references to suicide, off-screen loss of a limb.

No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS

Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears

The Kaminoans bred Cody for war. They’d forged him into a weapon and then they trained him, taught him how to fight and how to win. He’d been stubborn and determined, even among his brothers, and they’d valued those qualities. He learned strategy. How to handle himself. How to handle his men. How to handle a war.

And he’d excelled at it. His men had taken on armies and won. They’d come within a breath of winning a galactic war and had that victory soured. He’d lost a fight he’d never had a chance to prepare for, lost everything, all at once.

He didn’t know, exactly, what had happened on Utapau. One moment his body had listened to him and the next it just… hadn’t. It felt like dreaming, in a way. Or a nightmare. He could see the world. He could feel the things his body touched. He could hear his own voice.

But he couldn’t control any of it, could not stop himself from ordering his General shot down, no matter how he fought and struggled and--

And the most he could do, raging inside his own head, was file a form stating that General Kenobi had died, falling into the waste-water pit. After all, no nat-born would have been able to survive that fall.

Not according to the training he’d received on Kamino.

He’d watched his hand hesitate, on Utapau, watched his fingers twitch a different direction on the pad, and fought. In the end, the report went out that Obi-Wan had died. And Cody, scratching and tearing at the walls inside his own head, counted that as a victory, refusing even to allow himself to consider the alternative, in case the thing that had stolen his body heard the thoughts, somehow.

Nothing much else felt like a victory for years. He lost track of time. Lost track of himself. He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t stop the things his body did. He killed people, people begging for their lives. Children.

Jedi.

People he’d fought beside.

His friends.

He couldn’t stop it.

It was a relief, of a sorts, when Vader - the man who had been Anakin Skywalker - reassigned him to Mustafar. There were no people to kill on Mustafar. In fact, there was little to do. He and his brothers just… lived there. It was strange to see so many members of the 212th.

They’d kept them apart, after they were trapped inside their own heads. Split up battalions and companies. Put them in blank white helmets that made it impossible to know the man standing beside you.

But on Mustafar, he found his men. Not many of them. Nothing close to their full complement. He knew many of them had died in pointless battles and… in other ways. He walked by troopers slumped sideways in their bunks, a blaster still in their hands. Maintenance accidents, the forms said, when they were filed.

He’d watched troopers step into the line of friendly fire, or walk off the edge of tall paths, plunging hundreds of feet with no attempt to stop themselves.

On Mustafar, it jarred something in his mind each time he looked over and recognized one of his men, memories clattering through his head of battles fought together, victories hard won.

It was a constant reminder that he’d failed them. He’d been their Commander. He was supposed to look after them. But-- But he couldn’t. Couldn’t do anything to help them, even as Vader put him into position as supervisor of the base.

Cody’s body ran the base, in Vader’s absence. Designed security and set up duty rosters for his brothers. He wondered, sometimes, why Vader hadn’t put Rex in such a position. He wondered if, perhaps, Rex had not died, when they were all trapped inside their minds, and wished, more than anything, that he’d been that lucky.

He and his brothers slept and ate and trained, for, as near as Cody could determine, no reason.

And then Vader found Obi-Wan.

And Cody, who had gotten too tired to fight, somewhere in the last three years, stirred inside his head and started screaming, again.

The Kaminoans had bred Cody to make war. He warred with the thing that lived in his head, the thing that used his voice and his body, the thing that wasn’t him. He fought every order Skywalker gave him, after the bounty hunters dragged Obi-Wan from their ship and dropped him on the ground.

It felt like throwing himself at the side of a wall, over and over and over again. Trying to break through stone with nothing but his will alone. But he found ways. Little things he could do. Muscle movements, trained into his memory, below whatever level the control operated.

He could twitch a finger, if he focused. The code he’d created with Obi-Wan was as automatic as speech, once upon a time. Wrestling enough control of his body to communicate anything sensible felt almost impossible.

But Cody hadn’t been trained to give up. And he’d never learned how. He managed, watching Skywalker wreak his terrible atrocities across Obi-Wan’s body, to tear and pull at the wall. To haul on it, determined that he should either break it or force it to finally break him utterly, to grant him death, if nothing else.

And, when he wasn’t throwing himself at the wall inside his head, he planned. He couldn’t stop his body from carrying out minor tasks. Couldn’t stop it. But he could turn his thoughts elsewhere. He could turn all his focus onto exactly what he’d do, when he got control of himself back.

Skywalker had set him up as commanding officer. Cody built plans and refined them and waited.

And he managed, at least, to say “no,” when Skywalker made him hurt Obi-Wan, made him--

Cody remembered, in stunning detail, the very first time he’d wanted to kiss Obi-Wan. They’d been standing on the edge of a cliff on Trillol II, looking out across a sea that was, as far as he could see, endless. The wind rising off it had buffeted them both. Purple sea birds spun through the air above them.

There had been Separatist ships out on the water, far away but coming closer. The ships were the reason they were up on that bluff, but Cody had forgotten to care about them, for a moment, looking across at Obi-Wan, his hair tangling in the wind, the water close to the shore the exact color of his eyes, and--

And Cody had wanted to kiss him, then. Suddenly and achingly. He hadn’t. They needed to get back to the lines and - and it wouldn’t have been appropriate, anyway, to kiss his commanding officer. His General. But Obi-Wan had blinked, stopped in the middle of talking, and looked over at him, eyes getting wider, and--

Cody had assumed, really, that Obi-Wan knew exactly how he felt from the time they stood on that cliff. They hadn’t done anything about it. The middle of a war was hardly the place and their ranks stood between them, and--and they just hadn’t. But they’d both known.

And then Skywalker ordered him to - to beat Obi-Wan, to hold him down and rape him and-- Cody wished, more than anything, beating at the inside of his own head, trying to tear himself to pieces, if just to make the nightmare stop - that Obi-Wan would just - just give Skywalker what he wanted, spare himself--

Cody knew he wouldn’t. Even felt a swell of fierce pride that Obi-Wan wouldn’t allow Skywalker to win, but it was a sour, awful kind of resistance. Cody would never be able to unfeel the way Obi-Wan had struggled, the way he’d flinched and tried to get away, shaking all over, shocky. Never be able to unhear the crack in his voice, the way he’d tried to get Cody to stop, and Force, all Cody had wanted to do was stop, make it stop, never--

He used to dream about kissing Obi-Wan, out under a wide-open sky, slow and sweet. He used to imagine Obi-Wan smiling against his mouth, eyes crinkling in the corners with easy joy. He used to imagine what it might be like to do more than that, to press together skin to skin, to find out how their bodies might fit together, all imaginings, because Cody had never touched anyone that way, never wanted to touch anyone but Obi-Wan, and--

Cody was light-headed by the time it was over. That had been happening more and more often. The harder he fought, the worse he felt afterwards. His head hurt, terribly, and his vision swam. He tasted something strange, down the back of his throat. Salty. Too thin to be blood.

Skywalker told him to go get cleaned up and he could not resist the order, but he swayed sideways, in the hall, shoulder bumping into the wall, and for a moment, for just a moment, he managed to reach for his blaster.

He had it halfway to his head - because he’d never do that again, never again, never - before the thing in his head took over again.

It passed, the fleeting taste of control, but it made him redouble his efforts. It could be done. He could talk to Obi-Wan, at least a little. He could make himself move, if he just fought hard enough.

No one had ever accused Cody of not fighting hard enough.

Cody fought, desperately as Skywalker got Obi-Wan to kneel, got him to beg, and-- and Cody knew his General. He’d always known what it would take to break Obi-Wan. Known it would be his brothers on the floor, finding what peace they could in death.

They’d - they’d all hurt Obi-Wan. Sometimes directly. Betrayed him. Tried to kill him. Cody had thrashed inside his head on Utapau, as they tried to murder their General, and he hadn’t been strong enough to fight it.

None of them had. They’d been weak, when Obi-Wan needed them, weak over and over again, and--

And he still fell to his knees for them. Cody had watched him take abuse after abuse, every violation Skywalker could come up with. Watched him bounce back with a smirk and a sharp comment, indomitable.

Obi-Wan only begged for them. For their lives. After they’d failed him and hurt him and--and watched. After Cody had - had taken everything from him, violated him, ruined whatever they might have had, once, and it didn’t matter that Obi-Wan had said it wasn’t him, it--

Cody should have been stronger. Fought harder. He should have been able to stop himself from pulling the trigger, should have been able to turn the blaster on Skywalker, should have never left Obi-Wan in a position where he had to beg, where he had to let Skywalker fist fingers in his hair and abuse him again, making him choke, and--

Something salty ran down Cody’s throat. He could feel hot wetness in his ears, moving down the side of his neck.

They were supposed to look after each other. He was supposed to protect his General, his Obi-Wan, but--

But more of his brothers were pulling Obi-Wan out of the room, Obi-Wan calling out for him, concern in his voice, even still. And, somewhere in Cody’s head, something gave in a hot, dizzying rush.

Cody swayed on his feet and then went to one knee, panting, breath ragged and heart beating off-rhythm. He said, “Ah,” and the shock of hearing something he intended to come out of his mouth slipping free cut through the dizziness in his head like a vibroblade through butter.

Liquid flooded his mouth and he spat it out, because it tasted awful. He expected, vaguely, for it to be blood. It was clear. Mostly. Like saliva, tinged pink. There was blood, too, dripping down from his face. His thoughts were a tangled, confusing jumble. He couldn’t make them stay still.

His head hurt. His vision swam in front of him, the room getting blurry. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and nausea punched up through him. He retched, which only made his head hurt worse, and decided to accept the state of his vision, for the moment.

Something was, obviously, very wrong with him.

He barked a sharp laugh. The sound buzzed in his ears, oddly. Something had been very wrong with him for a long time. Maybe something was right with him, finally. He pushed to his feet, the world reeling around, and almost fell when he took a step.

He gritted his teeth, striking out for the door. He needed to get to Obi-Wan. But that might, he realized, require a trip to the medbay first. If he made it that far. His chest hurt, sudden and sharp, a deep, terrible kind of pain.

He ignored it, pushing past several of his brothers, who were still standing, stock still, expressions frozen, eyes red, blood under their noses and by their ears. “With me,” he ordered them, voice steady and his, grabbing Bones and dragging him into motion, forcing them all to move, taking another step and another.

Obi-Wan had begged, for them. For him. After everything.

Cody dragged in a breath and then another, forcing his brothers onward, his legs holding him up all the way to the medbay, where they tried to fall out from under him. Obi-Wan had begged. For him. Fought for him. After all he’d done. All his failures.

Cody wasn’t going to fail him again. Ever. He grabbed a droid, panting, and slurred, as it blustered in confusion, “Lord Vader. Wants. Me alive. And them.” They had orders to keep him alive, he knew. Skywalker wanted him there to keep hurting Obi-Wan. And they wouldn’t question his orders about the rest of his brothers.

Skywalker had, after all, left him with so many responsibilities.

Maybe, he thought, swaying, he could use that to his advantage. He was going to need every advantage he could get, to bring this entire place down on Skywalker’s head. All of the plans he’d nurtured over the past months were already screaming in his head, one after another.

And then the blackness came up and swallowed him.

Cody woke up staring at the ceiling in the medbay. For a jerking, awful moment he thought he couldn’t move, thought he was trapped in his own head again, and he lurched up. It was shocking to have his body respond to what he wanted it to do.

Chimes started, all around him. Medical sensors. He blinked, disoriented, looking down at the little wires coming off of his body, his head and chest. There was an I.V. in his arm. He shuddered, reaching for the sensors on his head and pulling them off of his skin, even as a droid hurried up.

“You are not recovered,” it said.

He dropped the sensors and stood, reveling in the ability to control his body, to make his legs take his weight, even if he still felt dizzy and unbalanced. He was… in the area of the medbay designated for trooper use. Two of his brothers lay in the beds beside him, similarly wired up. Cody frowned at them. They’d both been in the room when he’d broken the thing in his head. “I’m recovered enough,” he said, looking around for his blacks and his blaster.

He felt… very still, inside. Battlefield calm. He’d taken enemy strongholds before. And, this one, he had played a role in designing. His mouth twitched up in the corners. Skywalker, for whatever reason - to hurt Obi-Wan - had left Cody in charge of ever so much. He was going to pay for that mistake.

“2224,” the droid protested, as Cody took a moment to slide the I.V. free, putting pressure over the puncture. “You do not understand. You suffered a major malfunction, along with several other troopers. You must--”

“What kind of malfunction?” he asked, grabbing a pair of neatly folded blacks and pulling a shirt on. “How many others? These two?”

The droid made a little whirring sound. Cody wondered if it were surprised. Wondered if he’d need to destroy it, before it raised some kind of alarm. He was not, he recognized, acting in an approved manner.

The droid said, after a moment, apparently writing his change in behavior off as some organic nonsense, “A massive aneurysm in your frontal lobe. Six of you were affected.” Cody took that information in, yanking his pants up his legs. Six of his brothers. He’d bet all the credits in the galaxy they’d been in Vader’s little torture chamber. That they’d watched Obi-Wan beg for their lives. That it had… snapped something in them, too. “These two survived.”

Their General was going through hell. And he’d put himself through worse for them. He--

“Only these two?” he asked, and there was his armor, right where he’d known it would be, ready for him to step back into, to make himself a cog in the Empire’s awful machine once more. He was never going to wear it again, once he got Obi-Wan and his brothers out of here.

“Yes,” the droid said, “2224, you are not recovered,” it continued, as Cody buckled his armor into place.

“I’m ready to return to duty,” he said, a phrase he’d heard himself utter against his will, so many times over the last three years. Duty - Skywalker’s twisted idea of duty - had been all that mattered.

He’d never forgotten where his duty actually lay. And he finally - finally - had a chance to do all the things he’d wanted to do for the last three years. He snapped his chest piece into place and gripped his blaster, the grip cool and familiar against his palm, full of sweet promise and potential.

He knew, based on reports read while he’d been trapped in his head, that a blaster bolt was unlikely to kill Skywalker. Not while he was in that suit. It had all kinds of defenses and protections. People had shot him before, apparently. It hadn’t even slowed him down. He’d just carved them to pieces with a red lightsaber.

As much as Cody liked the thought, walking up to him, placing the barrel against his head, and pulling the trigger probably wouldn’t do anything. That was fine. Cody knew how to work around an enemy’s defenses. He’d had time to plan. He’d requisitioned an EMP device weeks ago, managing that much control. He was going to bring this entire base down on Skywalker. Make him pay for everything he’d done.

“Wake them up,” he told the droid, working on his vambraces, the movements close to automatic.

“I’m not sure they’re--”

“Wake them up,” Cody repeated, flat and hard, and the droid made an unhappy little noise, but complied. Cody knew his brothers. Knew they’d want to be awake for what was to come. It was a relief, he found, that Bones had been one of the ones to fight his way free. He shot the droid in its central processor, a moment later, unable to risk the security breach it represented.

He was in charge of reporting all lost materiels and investigating the reasons for their loss. One droid going missing would be very easy to explain.

And Cody was going to need a medic he trusted. He watched his brothers struggle their way awake, watched the horror and disgust roll over their expressions as memory settled and they regained control of their own faces.

Bones curled sideways, got his head over the side of the bed, and retched. Crys jerked to sitting, looked around, and gasped, “Kriffing--Commander? Is this--is this another dream?”

“No,” Cody said, flat and hard, nothing soft left in him. “You’re awake. We’re awake.”

Bone looked up, wiping his mouth, eyes wide and horrified. He asked, “What are we going to do?”

And Cody told them. Told them everything, watching their eyes get wider as determination settled across their features. He looked at Bones when he finished, and said, “Not all of us survived breaking free. And too many of us are still controlled.”

Bones nodded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You want full autopsies?” he asked, and Cody could see them falling into their jobs, the tasks in front of them. Grabbing onto something to focus on, the same as he was.

As long as there was something to do, a next step to take, he didn’t have to think about what he’d done. He didn’t have to remember Obi-Wan’s eyes, looking up at him, or the sound of his voice, begging, or--

Something in their brains was controlling them. Somehow. He didn’t know what it was, but he intended to find out. Victory could only be obtained once you knew your enemy, after all. “Start with the brain,” Cody said, gut cold and heart beating steadily. “I want a full report by the time I get back. Crys, you’re with me.”

Crys nodded, swinging off the bed and pulling on armor. It took only moments before they were moving out of the trooper’s area, into the medbay proper and Cody jerked to a halt, because--because Obi-Wan was floating in one of the base’s few bacta tanks. His hair floated in the fluid, longer than he’d ever liked it to be. There were healing wounds, all across his skin. And-- and his left arm ended, abruptly, above the elbow. Skywalker had, had started carving pieces off of him, and--

Cody took a halting step towards the tank, rasping out, “Force.”

“Sir,” Crys said, his voice cracking, and Cody swallowed the bile that rose up into his mouth. They’d laid in the medbay. They’d been so weak, he’d allowed Obi-Wan to be subjected to - to whatever Skywalker had done to him. “Sir, we’re really going to do this, aren’t we? Kill him? Get the General out of here?”

Cody hands curled into fists. He stared at Obi-Wan, floating in the bacta, and he could still hear, in his head, the way Obi-Wan had begged for their lives. His life. He turned away, shoulders a rigid line, and said, “Yes. We are.”

He had some time to implement his plan, evidently. He could not move, not with Obi-Wan floating in the bacta, recovering from injuries that hurt to even imagine. He needed to take stock. To find out how many of his brothers Skywalker had murdered while he’d been unconscious. To learn how Skywalker was making them dance to his whims, and to find a better way to free his brothers than waiting for them to give themselves an aneurysm.

And then he needed to get Obi-Wan out of this place, make him safe. And he needed, so badly he could almost taste it, to put Skywalker out of his misery. He’d die. One way or the other. For everything he’d done.

The Kaminoans had bred Cody for war. He planned to wage it.

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secretpeachtea · 4 years ago

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Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 1

Title: the predicament

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

“...and that’s about it for training. I might even teach you how to make some of the recipes one day, but for now, you’ll be in charge of register. I’ll be right over there if you got any questions.”

Today was your first day working at Onigiri Miya. After spending countless hours looking for a way to earn some money, you finally scored a part time job in this quaint onigiri establishment. You originally wanted to avoid working at a food joint due to their notorious obnoxious customers, but you didn’t really have much of a choice if you wanted to be able to pay for next month’s rent. As a student, you’re pretty limited on time as well, so it was nice that the work hours matched up with your schedule. Despite your initial hesitance, you lucked out in having such a kind boss.

“Glad to have you here, (Surname)-san.” Miya Osamu gave you a soft smile that almost made you swoon right then and there. Luckily, he was too busy wiping down his work area to catch you staring.

Yup, you definitely lucked out in having such a handsome boss as well.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the bell above the entrance ring, signaling the arrival of a customer. Putting on your best smile, you straighten your posture and fix up your black work hat.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Akaashi! This place is pretty nice!”

Two men walked into the shop casually and looked around with interest. The one who had spoken adorned a black and grey hoodie that matched the color of his hair, while the bespectacled figure wore a white button down to match his professional aura. Quite the duo as your first customers.

“Bokuto-san, try to keep your voice down indoors. We wouldn’t want to disturb other customers.”

Although the two were unfamiliar to you, Osamu seemed to recognize them almost immediately. “Oh, hey guys. What brings you here today?”

Akaashi adjusted his glasses and responded first. “I heard Onigiri Miya was deemed as the best onigiri restaurant of the year in Japan, so I wanted to come see for myself.”

“Tsum-Tsum said that you make the best Onigiri in the world, so I really wanted to try it out too!” Bokuto sported a wide smile while gesturing his arms for emphasis like a young child.

You just watched the three make some small talk, slightly surprised by how your boss was so familiar with the new customers. You haven’t become fully acquainted yet, so it was interesting to see the type of people he befriended.

It wasn’t until you briefly heard Osamu say your name, did you snap out of your little trance. “(Surname)-san can help you with your orders today.”

Placing a smile on your face, you set your eyes on Bokuto and Akaashi. “What can I get for you today?”

“I’ll have a Miso Onigiri,” Akaashi ordered after briefly eyeing the menu. His friend, however, seemed to have some trouble choosing.

“Um...hmm...mmm.” Bokuto stared at the menu for a few minutes with furrowed brows. One of his hands traced each menu option rapidly while the other hand rubbed his own head in contemplation. “There’s so many flavors! How do I choose?!”

You blinked a couple times at his exaggerated reaction, but quickly made the effort to help him by using what you remember from training. “Well, I can recommend you something. Are you in the mood for meat?”

The owlish male stared at you with sparkling eyes. “I’m always in the mood for meat!”

“If you order the Nikumaki Onigiri* special today you can receive two gyoza* on the side for no extra charge.” You pointed to the small chalkboard sign that stood next to the counter with the mentioned special that was written out by Osamu before the shop opened for the day.

“Then, I’ll order Nikumaki Onigiri because meat is the best!” Bokuto declared wholeheartedly.

Relieved that he was finally able to make a decision, you didn’t really think about the consequence of your next question. “Pork or Beef?”

“Uh...hmmm…..umm…”

You sweatdropped at Bokuto as he once again frowned at his predicament. Osamu just quietly snickered behind you, fully aware of Bokuto’s indecisive tendencies when it came to food. Thankfully, Akaashi was getting a bit impatient himself. “Beef. He’ll take beef. And, I’ll just pay for both.”

“Alrighty! Your total will be 300 yen.” You grab the money from Akaashi and pass him the receipt. “Miya-san will take care of your order soon.”

“Thanks, (Surname)-chan!” Bokuto yelled out.

The two didn’t go far and decided to just sit at the counter space right next to the register as they waited for their food.

Only the four of you occupied the shop at the moment and so far there haven’t been any phone orders since the day was still young. You consider yourself pretty lucky since you aren’t overwhelmed with customers on your first day. You didn’t really have much to do aside from standing in front of the register and daydreaming, so your ears automatically pick up on the conversation next to you.

“How have you been, Bokuto-san? I heard your team has been doing well this season,” Akaashi began.

Bokuto gave off the brightest smile he could manage at the mention of his favorite sport. “Yeah! We’ve been practicing every day and playing some practice games with other teams. We’re actually starting tryouts next month to scout some new players on the team!”

“Oh? I thought your team had a pretty solid roster this year?”

“My teammates are definitely strong, but after we lost to the Adlers in the last tournament, Coach thought it would be interesting to add some new faces to catch everyone off guard.”

Akaashi nodded his head in understanding. “I do think the element of surprise is very effective in volleyball.”

“It’s gonna be like a fun, surprise birthday party! We’re gonna be up against a strong team but then...BOOM! SURPRISE! They’ll never know what hit them!”

“I suppose so.”

“But, I guess it wouldn’t be as exciting since it’s no one’s birthday…” Although Bokuto no longer transitioned into his depressed phase like he did in high school, he still had moments where he’d randomly fall into a melancholic mood. “And, there wouldn’t be a big party either…”

Akaashi, already sensing the first signs of Bokuto’s altered mood, quickly thought up a solution. He held a certain glint in his eyes as he focused on his former teammate. “Anything can be exciting for everyone if volleyball is involved, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s head perked up at the mention of volleyball once again, and you could’ve sworn that his hair spiked up along with his brightened expression. “You’re right, Akaashi! Man, volleyball is really great!”

At this time, Osamu finally finished putting together the two onigiris and set the plates down on the counter, putting an end to the silly conversation. There were wisps of steam coming off of the freshly cooked meat with a heavenly scent that would make anyone’s mouth water. You can definitely make out a thin line of drool threatening to fall down on Bokuto’s chin at the sight in front of him.

“A Miso Onigiri for Akaashi-san, and a Nikumaki Onigiri with a side of gyoza for Bo-san!”

The two guys thanked Osamu for the meal and each took a bite of the savory food. Their satisfied expressions were all it took for Osamu to laugh with a triumphant smile. Even you were affected by the positive reaction.

Before taking another bite, Akaashi looked as if he remembered something and turned to Bokuto. “I almost forgot. You said you wanted to ask me about something you were having trouble with?”

“Oh, yeah! I don’t really know how taxes work!” Bokuto nonchalantly replied with a chunk of meat hanging from his lips.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi paused, “have you not been paying your taxes?”

The volleyball player took another large bite out of his onigiri and stared at his friend while chewing. “Was I supposed to?”

“…”

There was a brief moment of silence, the only noise coming from the appliances in the shop. Not knowing what to do, you just stood still and tried your best not to make your shock obvious. You never thought you’d become a witness to a tax evasion confession, but there seems to be a first for everything. There was a small part of you that also wanted to laugh, but you didn’t think it would be appropriate with the fact that you didn’t know the two men sitting in front of you very well. Although, you think you might’ve heard a soft snicker come from your boss, but maybe it was your imagination.

“Has anyone contacted you recently about finances? Perhaps a bank or, um, the police?”

“Hmm...Not that I know of!” Bokuto scratches his head in thought. “But then again, I might’ve missed some calls during practices. I don’t answer unknown numbers either ever since Omi-kun told me about the scary people that try to take my money!”

With his half-eaten onigiri resting between his fingers, Akaashi’s distressed eyes make contact with yours. You two just stared at one another for a couple seconds, while Bokuto casually finished the last of his onigiri, moving onto the gyoza eagerly.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this, (Surname)-san.” You’d be lying if you said you felt nothing when Akaashi asked with such a pleading tone while trying to maintain his stoic face.

Lips are sealed. Ears are plugged. Mind is clear.

“I didn’t hear a thing, Akaashi-san.”

“Thank you.”

Not wanting to waste any food, Akaashi took the time to consume the last of his meal, albeit with a bit of a stressed aura, before getting up from his seat. Bokuto had finished all of his food as well and just followed suit.

“We should get going, Bokuto-san. It’s going to take a bit of time to help you with your um...predicament.”

Bokuto, still unaware of his situation at hand, turns to smile at you and Osamu. “Thanks for the great food! It was definitely as good as Tsum-Tsum said it would be! Next time I visit, I’ll bring the team!”

Akaashi bowed while Bokuto energetically waved before the two took a step outside and slid the door closed. You could still hear the boisterous volleyball player mentioning how excited he is to spend time with his close friend to do taxes for the day.

You and Osamu share a look before bursting out in laughter together. If this is how your shifts are gonna be all the time, maybe working at a restaurant isn’t so bad after all.

“So, what’d you think of your first day?”

It was now late into the evening and you and Osamu were getting ready to head home soon. Osamu was wiping down his work area, while you were sweeping the floors. Your first day went well, and you surprisingly only made a few mistakes when taking calls. Out of all your first days from previous part time jobs, this one went the smoothest.

“I think it went well! I’ve never worked in an onigiri restaurant, but all your customers seemed pretty respectful,” you responded as you set aside the broom.

Just as you were about to head to the back room to put away your apron, your stomach let out a distinct grumble. Heat rose onto your cheeks because you’re sure that the handsome man near you most definitely heard it.

Osamu let out an amused laugh. “You hungry?”

“Maybe a little?” You put on a sheepish smile, silently cursing your body for betraying you like that.

“How about you get your things and I’ll whip you up something to take home?” Your boss smirked.

“I thought we used up all the ingredients for today? I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way for me.” You ask even though you secretly are dying to actually try one of his godly onigiris.

Osamu just shrugs his shoulders. “I set aside some things for my brother, but I’m sure he can go a day with takeout.”

You get the feeling that he won’t let you leave until you take his offer, so you just agree and head to the back room to gather your things and stop by the bathroom. You eventually make your way back to the counter area and see that Osamu already has a small bag filled with an onigiri and a sweet tea drink. He sports a lax grin as you walk towards him and hands you the bag gently.

“One Minced Tuna and Spring Onion Onigiri.”

Your face stretched into a wide smile, already looking forward to having a taste of Osamu’s recipe. “That sounds delicious!”

“It’s my brother’s favorite. Hope you’re not allergic to fish.”

You shake your head fervently. “No way. I’d be so upset if I couldn’t eat something that smelled as good as this! Your brother has good taste.”

“I guess. He’s still got some loose screws though. Definitely knows how to irritate me to no end.” The man in front of you slouches and lets out a tired sigh.

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to meet him someday to find out.” Now, you were getting a little curious about Osamu’s brother. “I’d like to meet the guy that knows how to make my composed boss look like he’s ready to murder.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Nikumaki Onigiri = basically rice wrapped around meat

Gyoza = dumplings, potstickers, whatever you wanna call them

A/N: super excited to share this series with y’all! I’ve never shared my writing on tumblr so we’ll see how this goes oof. I was originally going to post this later in the week, but it’s the twins’ birthday today, so I had to do it!

#haikyuu #onigiri miya #secretpeachtea #onigiri miya tidbits #bokuto #akaashi #osamu

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