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journalxxx · 3 years ago

Text

By Hook or by Crook (3)

August 12th, 2277

Izuku lay on his bed staring at the screen of his phone. He'd already typed in the emergency number, but he hadn't started the call yet. He honestly wasn't sure if this qualified as an emergency or not. Probably not. But it was kind of a big deal. Kind of massive. For him, anyway. He wasn't even sure if his father could respond in the first place. A couple of months ago, he'd said he'd be likely to resume his normal phone calls soon, but maybe his throat hadn't fully healed yet. And what if that polite colleague picked up instead? Izuku certainly couldn't tell him about… all that.

He hadn't told his mother either, or the doctor. He didn't want to cause trouble, neither for himself nor for Kacchan. But he really, really felt the urge to tell someone. He'd been waiting for this moment for so long, and it had gone so inexplicably wrong.

His thumb tapped the green button.

It took less than five seconds for the call to connect.

"Izuku. What is it?"

"Hi... Dad..." Izuku started, but he found himself trailing off. He hadn't heard his father's voice in so long and, while still recognizable, it was very different. Rougher and somewhat distorted, as if he was speaking through… something metallic?

"What's going on?" His father pressed when the silence stretched. It suddenly occurred to Izuku that the man could be misinterpreting his hesitation as the kind of situation that may warrant an emergency call.

"Ah… N-nothing much, actually. I'm not dying or anything. Mom's not dying- no one's dying." He blurted out, hurried explanations rushing out of his mouth bypassing any form of brain check. "This isn't really an emergency. More like… an emergence. Of my quirk."

The silence from the other side of the receiver was deafening. Wow. Inconveniencing his still convalescent father for no serious reason, and topping it off with a pun. Izuku wouldn't be surprised if he decided to hang up on his face.

"...Sorry. I shouldn't have called." He apologized. "D-Does it still hurt to speak? Ah, never mind, we can talk about that next-"

His father's sigh came through as a brief burst of static. "Where are you now?"

"At home. In my room."

"Alone?"

"Yeah."

"...Why don't you tell me what happened then?" The softer timbre of his father's voice lifted a weight from Izuku's chest. And the tale of the afternoon's events spun almost by itself.

Lately, it didn't happen often that Izuku and Kacchan hung out without the rest of the gang. His friend was a natural-born and enthusiastic leader, and he enjoyed having people around to let him play that role. But that day someone had homework to catch up with, someone else had the flu, a third one was grounded… So it had been just the two of them. They had headed to the usual spot by the small river, to stave off the heat. Which didn't seem to especially bother Kacchan, who had been trying to blast an anthill to smithereens with his quirk. He had casually remarked, as he often did, what a pity it was that Izuku would never develop one.

Izuku didn't know why he hadn't let that comment slide, like every other time. Arguing on that point never helped, it always made things worse. But this time he had answered back. That his quirk would manifest one day, sure as hell. And then he'd joked that they'd have a match to see who could exterminate the most ants in one minute.

Kacchan hadn't liked that. At all. He never did take well to amicable competition.

Do you see this? Huh? Look, take a closer look. Kacchan had said, holding his palm mere centimetres away from Izuku's face, so close that he could feel the heat from the small explosions popping off from his skin. This is what a quirk looks like. Looks like you still can't tell the difference between a quirk and nothing, nerd. 'Cause you have nothing. Nothing's all you'll ever have.

"This friend of yours- sorry, what's his name again?"

Izuku was startled by his father's interruption. "Kaccha- I mean, Katsuki."

"Why was he so aggressive? Did you two have a quarrel before this?"

"Oh, no. He's just… he's just like that."

"...He's just like that?" His father repeated. It was a bit difficult for Izuku to read his tone now that his voice was so muffled and unfamiliar. "This is a common occurrence? Him using his quirk to hurt you?"

"Oh no, no no! He didn't do that! He never does that, he knows it's bad!" Izuku hurried to elaborate. "He just uses it to… show off a little. Sometimes he blows up stuff. Things can get a bit rough when we play, but he never burns people with his quirk. He's very good at controlling it!"

"...And this is your best friend we're talking about." His father didn't sound terribly convinced. Izuku felt the necessity to make things absolutely clear.

"He's a cool guy, dad. Really. He's great. He's smart, and talented, and strong, and brave… He just has a bit of a short temper. His mom's like that too."

There was a long pause. "...I see. Go on."

Well, even if Izuku knew that Kacchan wasn't going to hurt him (not much, not with his quirk, at least), at that moment he was still pretty upset. And Kacchan kept waving his explosive hands uncomfortably close to him, and he kept going on about how Izuku would never get a quirk, and it was… it was just so unfair, that's what it was. It was unfair that Izuku would have to wait for God knows how long for what his father had assured him (multiple times) would eventually happen, while Kacchan always let his anger run away with him. Izuku had felt a heady burst of resentment, and he had grabbed Kacchan's wrists with both hands, trying to shove him away, and that's when it had happened.

He had managed to send Kacchan staggering into a nearby bush. But at the same time, a sharp pain had spread in both Izuku's hands. It wasn't the searing of an explosion, it was more as if his palms had been stabbed by a big needle. He had checked, and found two small, circular marks on them. They were like scars, but very old ones, already closed and healed, definitely not bleeding.

He hadn't had time to process the fact. Kacchan was already back on his feet, shouting and marching towards him, reaching for him with his arms thrown out before him, fingers clawed in the familiar position they assumed when he summoned his quirk…

But nothing had happened. No explosions. Not even a spark or a flicker of flame. Kacchan had stopped in his tracks, flabbergasted. He had tried again, to no avail. And Izuku, on his part, had felt it. That awareness. That visceral perception that something had changed inside him, that there was something new in him. Something he could summon himself. He had flexed his fingers, and done it.

A small explosion. Right there, in his own hand. It hadn't burned at all.

Give it back! Kacchan had screamed at him when they had both emerged from their quiet stupor. Izuku had stepped backwards in fear, tripping down on something. He had raised his hand to defend himself from the impending assault, and shot off another blast, a bigger one. Too big. The recoil had hurled his arm backwards, bent his wrist painfully, sent it crashing against a rock. It had hurt a lot.

Give it back! Kacchan had yelled after he'd stopped laughing, laughing at how hopeless Izuku was even with a stolen quirk, laughing at how the useless nerd had managed to injure himself even before Kacchan could touch him, and probably more severely too than Kacchan would have dared.

GIVE IT BACK! Kacchan had howled while dragging him into the shallow river. He'd pushed him down, pressed his hands into the stream, cunningly exploiting his own weakness. The water washed away the sweat from Izuku's palms before he could even try to ignite it. He was harmless, pathetic, impotent, even with Kacchan's impressive quirk.

He had given it back after he'd promised Kacchan that he would, as soon as he let go of-

"What?"

"Uh? What?" Izuku echoed obtusely.

"You gave it back?"

"...Yes. Of course." Izuku blinked. "What… what else could I do? I promised him-"

"You could have just kept it." His father sounded surprised. Very surprised. "He was using his quirk to threaten you and hurt you. Why would you give it back to him?"

"I…" The notion that he could have just lied and ran away with Kacchan's quirk hadn't even entered Izuku's mind. "I didn't even know how to use it. All I could do with it was hurt myself. I-"

"You could have learned how to use it, over time. You could have obtained the quirk you so deeply desired. You could have deprived a bully of a dangerous weapon. You could have made him understand what it feels like to be on the weaker side of a confrontation."

Izuku heard those words, but they didn't fully register. "...I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"...It's Kacchan's quirk. It's his. I couldn't keep it." Izuku said simply.

Another long pause. "...What happened then?"

"Kacchan just left. He was very angry, he said he'd- that I'd better never use that 'trick' again on him. I came home too, but my wrist was swollen and achy, so mom brought me to the doctor. It's fine though, I don't think it's broken." Izuku recounted, wiggling his bandaged arm subconsciously.

"Did you tell your mother what happened?"

"...No, I… No." Izuku hesitated. "I just told her I slipped on some wet rocks."

Izuku himself couldn't quite put his finger on why he'd wanted to hide the accident from everyone except from his father. Something about how easy it had always been to talk to him, how he was always ready to listen to everything Izuku wanted to say, even things he clearly didn't care about. He may have been present in Izuku's life for only one or two hours a month, but Izuku truly felt that, for those one or two hours, his father's attention was solely focussed on him. Something about the distance too, maybe, which made him more akin to an imaginary friend than to a real parent that could dish out tangible punishment, worry and contempt. Something about this aura of wisdom and confidence and calm that his polished words and deep tone always radiated.

"Who else knows about this?"

"Uh… No one, I think. Just Kacchan and I."

"And when did this all happen, exactly?"

"Earlier this afternoon. At around 2 or 3, I think?"

"I see." His father's voice sounded distant. "Sorry, Izuku. Do you mind if I put you on hold? Don't hang up, it'll only take a minute."

"Oh, of course."

There was a soft click, and the speaker went silent. Izuku remembered with a flash of guilt that his father was probably working at the moment. He hoped he hadn't caught him at a bad time. Maybe that had to do with the fact that his voice was so weird. Maybe he was wearing some sort of disguise or protective gear?

Click. "I'm here."

"Sorry if I bothered you for something like this. You're busy now, aren't you?"

"I have nothing urgent on my plate. Actually, I'm glad you rang. This could have turned into quite the problem if you had waited another two weeks to inform me."

"Uh? Why?"

"Do you understand what happened today, Izuku?" The gentleness of the question somehow alarmed Izuku more than if his father had been scolding him.

"I…" He gulped. "I think I stole Kacchan's Explosion. With my quirk. That was a quirk, right?"

"Yes. That was our quirk."

Izuku's brain screeched to a halt.

Our.

"Your… Isn't your quirk Fire Breathing?"

"That is one of my quirks, yes."

There was silence as the pieces fell into place in the kid's head. There may very well have been an earthquake, and he would have barely noticed it. "You can… take quirks too?"

"Yes."

Izuku had so many questions that it took him several seconds to even decide where to start. "W-Why have you never said so?"

"Because that too is classified. The very existence of our quirk is classified." His father paused, then resumed almost tiredly. "I see I should have warned you about this regardless. Truth to be told, I was expecting your quirk's first appearance to unfold… differently. I guess it doesn't matter now."

Izuku sat up as he kept listening, hanging on his father's every word.

"Our ability allows us to take other people's quirks permanently, and use them as our own. As you have already discovered, we can give them back as well. Another very important perk is the capacity to store many quirks inside us at the same time. A great many." His father stopped again. "Do you know what this means?"

Izuku shook his head negatively, forgetting that his father couldn't see him. His silence conveyed the message anyway.

"This means that our quirk is powerful. Astoundingly powerful. More powerful than Fire Breathing or Hellflame or Explosion or Fiber Master or Foresight. Because it can be all those quirks at once."

Izuku's mind was reeling. It was... unimaginable. He thought of all his favorite heroes, all the top heroes, all the most incredible powers and skills… all concentrated into a single individual. He thought of Endeavor, Jeanist, Yoroi Musha, Gang Orca, Nighteye…

All Might...

"The downside of our quirk is the cost it has on the owners of the quirks we appropriate. They are rendered quirkless, unless we decide to grant their abilities back." His father went on. "You can imagine the implications of this."

He could. He could imagine having the power of taking All Might's quirk - not only becoming a hero like All Might, but practically becoming All Might himself… at the cost of mutilating the original.

The mere notion made him dizzy.

"That's… that's not right…" Izuku stuttered, drawing his knees to his chest. "It can't be used in that way…"

"Most people would agree with that sentiment, yes." There was a sort of… disappointment, of weariness in his father's voice that Izuku had never heard before. It unsettled him deeply. "Most people would claim that it's a quirk that handicaps and feeds on others, that can only be fuelled by theft, prevarication and selfishness. An inherently villainous quirk, if you will."

"That can't be true." Izuku objected, curling up on himself even more. "It… depends on how you use it. All quirks do. I'm not going to use it like that, ever-"

"That wouldn't be enough to discourage those cynical voices, I'm afraid. Power terrifies people who don't have it, Izuku. A type of power as overwhelming as ours, all the more so. They wouldn't need to see you abuse your quirk to condemn you, the mere fact that you could do it, if you ever decided to, would be enough to draw suspicion and distrust on you."

"W-What does it mean?" Izuku's breaths left his mouth in a rush as his eyes started to burn, the telltale signs of an impending burst of tears agitating him even more. "What do I have to do?"

The man took his sweet time to reply, and for a terrible moment Izuku thought that even his father might be at a loss as to how to deal with the situation. "As things stand, I would encourage you to act as if your quirk never manifested, in order to avoid negative attention."

"But Kacchan already knows. He'll tell someone, his parents at least…"

"I doubt it. If he's as clever and proud as you describe him, I think he'll understand the dangers of doing so. He'll realize that you could take his quirk for good at any given moment, and he'll choose not to anger you. Or he may simply refuse to acknowledge your superiority over him, and behave as if nothing happened in the first place. I can imagine many reasons that would lead him to keep your secret without you even asking him to - in fact, I would strongly advise you not to, and shove the whole thing under the rug. It would be for the best of everyone involved."

Silence fell again. Izuku's head buzzed with fear, confusion, doubts. It didn't make any sense, none of it. "I… can't use my quirk? Never? I will never be able to use it?"

"There are certain powers, certain weapons, that instil so much fear in humans that one can only either bury them deeply and pretend they don't exist, or bear them unhesitatingly lest the fearful tear their wielders apart. It is an unavoidable reality of life."

Tears rolled down Izuku's cheeks freely. "Y-You… you said you have more than one quirk. You used yours. Are you… doing it secretly? Is that what the whole 'classified' thing is about?"

"...My circumstances are unique." His father answered, after a slight hesitation. "I certainly do not flaunt my original quirk carelessly, nor do I have it printed in bold letters on my personal documents. The government is aware of my ability, but gaining my immunity from their wrath was no small feat. I honestly cannot imagine someone like you going to such lengths to achieve the same result. Not as you are now, probably not as you will be in the near future."

A few things were starting to make sense now, things that Izuku had always brushed aside as amusing or perplexing eccentricities of his father's. His unrelenting reticence about his job, a job likely tied to or issued by the government, a job that kept him separate from his family and that robbed him of time and leisure, a dangerous job he probably wasn't all that proud of. The kind of dirty, ambiguous job Izuku saw in movies and read about online, the kind of job where law and ethics sometimes parted ways. The kind of shady, hushed-up, unrewarding job that might make anyone envy a shining, pristine, beloved symbol like All Might.

"...I'm sorry." He sobbed, because he was, even if he wasn't sure what for. For being unable to walk the same path as his father, maybe, or for the grief the man's work surely caused him.

"There is no reason to panic." In a moment, his father's tone had recovered his trademark, comforting composure. Its effect on Izuku's nerves was immediate. "Luckily, today's incident was trivial and self-contained. As long as you don't reveal your quirk to anyone else, your life will go on unchanged."

Unchanged. As if Izuku hadn't been waiting his whole life for it to change. As if the quirk he thought he'd welcome as a blessing hadn't turned out to be some sort of nightmarish curse. It was a cruel joke, but it was no one's fault. He'd just have to adapt to it.

His father seemed to read into his wordless discouragement very easily. "I'm sorry, Izuku. I'm afraid I have to go now, but we'll talk more about it soon. Don't lose your sleep over this, there's no need for concern right now. Can you promise me you'll stay put at least until next month?"

"...Yes, of course."

"Wonderful. Have a good night, Izuku."

Izuku stared at the wall blankly, the call ending with a low beep. For the first time in his life, talking with his father had made everything feel remarkably worse.

October 1st, 2277

"How are things between you and Katsuki lately?"

"Same as usual. We… don't really hang out much any more. Or at all. He just keeps ignoring me all the time." Izuku mumbled, his spirit instantly dampened by the subject.

"That may be for the best. At least you won't have to put up with his inopportune mood swings, no?" His father offered encouragingly.

Admittedly, there was some truth to that. Izuku did feel a little less stressed, a little less constantly on edge every time the two of them happened to cross the same street or bump shoulders in class. It was reassuring to know that Kacchan wouldn't do anything worse than staring daggers at him, and his varying cohort of backers never took the initiative when it came to openly hostile behavior. It was… fine, in a way. And yet, Izuku missed their strange, complicated sort of closeness anyway. Kacchan really had been the first person Izuku had ever considered a friend, and he was sad to see this friendship, as unpleasant and troublesome as it could be at times, degrade into a quietly rancorous acquaintance.

"...I guess." Izuku glossed over. "I would like to talk things through with him though. I know you think I shouldn't, but-"

"If Katsuki hasn't brought up the matter yet, he probably has no intention of ever doing so. There's no point in being pushy with him. No doubt he's had a lot on his mind these past months, after all."

"Yeah, I know." Guilt squeezed Izuku's stomach in a tight grip. It was very self-centered of him to keep obsessing over his quirk, he should just be happy that Kacchan was safe and sound, all things considered. "I'm not even sure I could manage to talk to him alone. His parents always walk him everywhere he goes, and I think the police are still keeping an eye on him."

"It's understandable, and all the more reason for you to stop fretting about all this. Your secret is safe, and so is he. A fortunate conclusion all round."

"Mh." Izuku couldn't fully share his father's optimism, but he supposed the whole situation was at an impasse anyway. His eyes fell on his notebook, closed atop of a pile of school textbooks, and he decided it was time to tackle another tricky discussion. "...I've been having a little trouble with my quirk research lately."

"Oh? Have you stumbled upon an especially puzzling one?" His father took the bait, his interest immediately piqued.

"Yes. Ours."

"...Ah."

"I've been looking for any kind of information related to quirk-stealing abilities. I've found mentions of similar ones, from copycats to erasers to temporary absorption… Nothing quite like ours, though." Izuku hesitated. "I have found some rumours though. Here and there, in forums and old uh… clickbait-y articles."

His father's progressive de-escalation from proper replies to monosyllables to complete silence was a familiar pattern, and not a concerning one per se. At the very least it meant he was willing to give Izuku a chance to make his point, so he continued.

"It's all very vague. There are no details about the ability to give quirks back, or about palm marks. But all the hearsay is centered around this… this mysterious figure who lived around the era of the advent of quirks and who is said to have been able to steal them."

"I know all about those rumors."

"Do you?" Izuku had never pegged his father for the kind of man who'd spend his time digging for gossip around the internet… but then again, the last months had proved he knew less than he thought about the man. "They say… they say he was a criminal. The most dangerous villain who ever lived, even. It's all a bit exaggerated and unrealistic, I know, since there's no mention of anyone like that in history books-"

"It just goes to show how fantastically threatening our quirk would seem to the average person." He replied casually. "It is literally the stuff of legends of our modern age."

"Do you know if there's any truth to it? Or if they're just stories?"

A pause. "...It is true. It's part of the reason why I've been so insistent on you keeping quiet about your quirk. You'd better avoid being connected to those rumors if you plan on having a peaceful life."

Izuku balked. That was uncharacteristically forward on his father's part. And it was a disconcerting piece of information to boot. And it raised a further, even more disquieting possibility. "Did that villain have the exact same quirk as us? Was he… related to us? A grandparent, a great-grandparent…?"

"The real issue here, Izuku, is that it doesn't matter." His father said sternly. "The issue is that anyone who is aware of those voices - or worse, anyone who knows them to be true - will react in the same way you did. They will suspect or presume you to be a descendant of that criminal, and you'd have no way to prove them wrong."

Izuku wanted to ask if his father was speaking from experience, if his subtle bitterness and extreme caution were the result of the blatant prejudice he had had to deal with personally. He couldn't quite gather the courage to do so, though. "Very few people know about this though, right? It wouldn't be that much of a problem day-to-day…"

"It depends on the kind of people you'd have to deal with in your daily life. It would be enough of an obstacle to prevent you from pursuing your dream career, for example."

"What? You mean becoming a hero?" Izuku frowned. "Why?"

His father sighed deeply. "Picture this, Izuku. The government of a country was once almost overthrown by a dangerous villain with a certain quirk, and it has been trying to suppress any information about that evildoer ever since. The same government also handles the designation and retribution of all heroes in the industry. One day, a young man with the same devastating quirk as the aforementioned criminal appears, and he applies to a hero academy - an institution which, among other things, trains its students to fight, strategize, be reasonably charismatic, refine and master their quirks to their fullest capacity. What do you think the government would do when faced with the possibility, however remote, of accidentally grooming this young man into another nation-wide calamity?"

Izuku felt as if the whole world was crumbling beneath his feet. There was… there was only one rational conclusion, wasn't there? "...They wouldn't take that chance. They wouldn't let him become a hero. They wouldn't want him to use or train his quirk at all, to be on the safe side."

"Exactly-"

"But- but…!" No, it couldn't be the only way this would unfold. Surely they wouldn't be this gravely biased, surely there had to be some way to prove his good faith, surely… "What if I used my quirk differently? In a way that would never harm anyone? I could… I could just borrow quirks instead of stealing them! Borrow them during an emergency and give them back as soon as it's over-"

"I'm afraid our quirk isn't well-suited to that kind of application." His father countered plainly. "While we do acquire an immediate, basic and instinctive understanding of any quirk we take, it is rarely sufficient to deploy it efficiently and safely right off the bat, unless the quirk is particularly simple in its mechanics. You experienced this first-hand when you sprained your wrist with your first sizable explosion. It takes practice to become proficient in each ability we receive, and without enough time to learn beforehands, you'd be more of a liability than an asset on the field."

The cold, ironclad logic of that long speech gutted Izuku more neatly than a knife. The boy squeezed his eyes, focussing on the problem, thinking, thinking, thinking… "There has to be some way though. There has to be…"

Silence stretched as he struggled against frustration, fear, discomfort, disappointment. He only needed to think, to come up with an idea, a single good idea to demonstrate that this amazing quirk of his wasn't necessarily a menace-

"...There could be." His father said, oddly tentative.

Izuku perked up, hope and gratefulness springing in his chest. "How?"

"You could simply pretend to have a different quirk. Take someone else's, just the one, and pretend it was your original quirk. Become a hero using that, and only that."

That wasn't what Izuku wished to hear. Not at all. "That means I'd still need to steal from someone, dad. I-I can't-"

"There are ways to acquire quirks that don't involve outright robbery, you know." The man sounded mildly peeved now. "Just think about it. A friend blessed with a quirk they don't like or get much use out of, donating it to you out of sheer good will. An old relative on their deathbed, willing to pass on their ability before it gets lost along with their life. An acquaintance debilitated by some illness or chronic condition that renders them unable to draw on their power, entrusting it to you rather than letting it stagnate within themselves."

Izuku pondered on those words. Even though they were all quite specific and uncommon situations, they sounded sensible… on paper. As purely theoretical possibilities. On the practical side, however… "I don't think I'd ever want to take a friend's quirk, no matter what. Being quirkless is… I wouldn't wish it on anyone, honestly." He didn't bother adding that he had no such close friends that would ever consider sacrificing their quirks for his little pipe dream. "And I really wouldn't want to pester old and sick people for something like that. I'd feel like I'd be taking advantage of their suffering…"

"Not even that, uh…?" His father sounded thoughtful. It was odd hearing him so unsure of his words, for once not the impeccable source of complete answers and well-spoken certainties. "Duplicity does not come naturally to you, nor does greed. It is unfortunate that you were endowed with a quirk whose maximum potential hinges on both."

"...What do I do then?" Izuku asked, feeling his hope and energy melt like snow under the sun.

"With strict morals such as yours, I'm afraid your hands are tied." The man paused. "Do you trust my judgement, Izuku?"

It was a rhetorical question, obviously. His father had been right about Izuku eventually getting a quirk. He had been right about Kacchan keeping his secret. He had always been right about anything they had ever talked about. There was no doubt that, if there was anyone in the world who could analyze the current predicament, predict its developments, advise for the best course of action, it was his father.

"Of course."

"Then keep holding your cards close to the vest. Maybe things will change one day, and you'll find more options available to you. But for now, you would gain no advantage from exposing yourself to public scrutiny. You would only attract suspicion and enmity. Keep your quirk hidden and play it safe. Your very life and safety may depend on your discretion."

March 2nd, 2280

"It… rewrites DNA?"

"Exactly. Every time it is used, both on yourself and on others. Despite their seemingly complex functions, quirk factors tend to be encoded and clustered within a relatively small number of genes. Our quirk allows us to detach them from all chromosomes in the body at once, transfer them and reallocate them - think of bacterial plasmids, albeit with a higher degree of complexity."

Izuku hummed, tapping the head of his pencil against his chin as his father's information seeped into his brain. "If DNA is the means through which quirks are transferred… I guess one does not need a… a whole, living human being as a source." Izuku let his thoughts trickle through his mouth unbidden, aware that his father never minded his rambling observations. "...What about a corpse? A very… fresh one, I guess? One which hasn't started decaying yet, not even a little bit. Could you take its quirk from it?"

"Alas, no. For the same reason why we can't collect quirks from detached limbs or single cells, for example. The donor must be a living organism. It is a stringent requirement. The moment the person dies, their quirk becomes unreachable for us."

"The moment the person dies…" Izuku toyed with the concept in his head. Vague memories of wandering internet searches and dramatic soap operas resurfaced. "Isn't that… difficult to establish though? Like, there's cardiac death, brain death… Total death? What applies here?"

"'Total death', I suppose." Izuku's father answered with a trace of humour. "There is a markedly... spiritual side to our quirk - to many quirks, in fact. The death I'm talking about is the loss of what makes a human being truly alive. Call it however you want - soul, mind, life force, spirit, personality, will. The essence of their being."

A pause, then the man spoke again. "I'm afraid that's as precise an explanation as I can give you. I wish I knew more about it myself. It is a tremendously fascinating subject." Izuku nodded in agreement, absently scribbling a small Quirks tied to souls??? on a corner of the receipt for the ice-cream he had bought on the way back from school.

"Izuku? Are you taking notes?" Izuku flinched as his father's tone suddenly turned severe. Had he heard the pencil scratch on paper? Curse his unreasonably sharp ears- "I told you a hundred times never to write down any information about our-"

"I know, I know! Sorry! It's just a habit!" Izuku rummaged through the drawer to find an eraser and immediately remove the offending line. "I wasn't writing on my notebook, it's just a scrap of paper I had lying around. I'm getting rid of it… right now..."

A long-suffering sigh crackled through the speaker. "...Still. I'm quite surprised that you're already considering ransacking graveyards and morgues in order to obtain quirks. It didn't occur to me to try my hand at desecration until I was much older than you."

"I'm- I'm not considering it!" Izuku sputtered, failing to find the eraser and electing instead to just rip the corner off the receipt and swallow it. "That would be incredibly disrespectful! Also a crime!"

"Right."

"I'm just… brainstorming. Keeping an open mind for unseen possibilities." Izuku sighed, not bothering to hide the familiar sting of annoyance. "You know, it wouldn't hurt if you were a little more forthcoming about how you obtained your yet-unspecified number of quirks. Surely you don't expect me to believe they all come from nursing homes and emergency rooms…"

"Izuku." There it was again, that cautionary edge that tinged his father's voice increasingly often as of late. On the bright side, Izuku was growing sort of accustomed to it, finding it easier to simply power through it.

"...I've been reading up on Tartarus lately." He threw out there, twirling his pencil in his fingers. "Not that there's much to read about it. They keep a close lid on any information regarding their security procedures and systems, which is fair. I do wonder though, what kind of measures they may have in place to restrict such a large number of dangerous quirk users."

His father didn't seem to have any comment on the topic, so Izuku decided to lay it on a bit thicker.

"They used to cut hands to punish thieves in certain countries a long time ago. It doesn't really happen any more, it violates all sorts of human rights. Coincidentally, there are rumors of multiple lawsuits for human rights violations being brought up against Tartarus." Izuku paused emphatically. "I'm sure that if the government knew of a way of 'amputating' quirks from incarcerated villains, it would be a strictly classified matter."

His father let out a quiet laugh. "So your current working hypothesis is that I'm obtaining my quirks from those who make poor use of them or are deemed unworthy. Your mind works in truly admirable ways. I'm starting to worry that one of these days you'll show up right on my doorstep."

"So it's true then?"

"Even if it was, do you think I would be at liberty to say?"

Izuku dropped his head on the desk and exhaled in frustration. Deflections, deflections. Even a frank denial was too much to hope for. There was no winning against his sphinx of a father.

"Have you given some more thought about what to do after middle school?" The infuriating man asked with the most casual of tones, as if they'd just been chatting about the weather. He wasn't even trying to be subtle with his diversions any more.

"Yes, and I haven't changed my mind." Izuku muttered, recognizing a losing battle when he saw one. "I want to try the admission test for the hero course at U.A."

A sigh. "I don't even know how I can be any clearer. Heroes aren't going to accept in their ranks someone with your-"

"I'm not going to use my quirk." Izuku interrupted him, with more pluck than he actually felt. "I… I've been wanting to apply since way before my quirk appeared. I'll apply as I would have applied if it hadn't. As quirkless."

Izuku heard some odd tinkering noises coming from the speaker. "I wish I could put this more kindly, but that is a fool's errand."

"It isn't against any of their regulations. There are no precedents, but-"

"Spare me the innocent talk, you're too smart for that." His father's voice cut through him with unusual vehemence. "They don't need regulations to politely dismiss people they presume worthless. A quirkless applicant would be the very embodiment of that worthlessness. You know it as well as I do."

"So you aren't even going to let me try?" Izuku hated the way his voice almost cracked on those words. He hated that he couldn't truly find it in himself to resent his father for being always, unfailingly right.

"...Whatever gave you that impression?" His father sounded genuinely taken aback.

"The fact that you're shooting me down like a trained sniper?!"

"Don't misunderstand me, I'm merely supporting my argument. I have no intention of stopping you. I don't think I even have the right to, really. I'm not exactly a prime example of involved parenthood."

Izuku's jaw hit the proverbial floor. That was… unexpected. "So… you aren't going to stop me. Even if you think it's stupid."

"One has to fall before he can learn how to walk." The man replied with mock solemnity, then he continued more seriously. "If I forbade you to attempt the test, all you'd gain from it would be a long-standing aversion to me and the lifelong regret of not knowing what you could have become, had you been given the chance. Neither of us would benefit from that. If I let you pursue your silly dreams to their inevitable failure, however, you may actually learn some valuable lessons about the importance of realistic objectives and the pointlessness of moot idealism."

That was... less unexpected. Izuku's shoulders dropped. Well. Questionable pep talk aside, at least he'd obtained an outspoken permission. He'd take what he could get. "Thanks, dad. You always know what to say to brighten my day."

"I try my best." His father chuckled. "If you could indulge my obsession for common sense for another moment… what are your spare plans in case of rejection? What other careers are you considering?"

"I… haven't quite worked out a plan B yet." Izuku bit his lip, blatantly caught out. "I-I still have a whole year to decide though. I'll pick some other possibilities before the end of school."

"There will always be plenty of paths open for you, Izuku. Way more than you know." His father sighed, a hint of sourness tinging his voice. "I only wish you would consider them.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #all for one #deku #izuku midoriya

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katsukikitten · 5 years ago

Text

Ready Set COOK!

A/N have this random ass fic I cranked out cause I watched some food network. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

"Y/N is arguable the best cook in the dorms." Mina says salivating over the thought of dinner as 1A figures out what they are going to try to convince you to make.

"Tch. Yea fucking right. I cook the best!" Bakugou chimes in suddenly flipping through the channels with fever.

"Ha!" You laugh dryly, "Maybe when I'm having a bad day."

He grinds his teeth as he glares at you, channel surfing forgotten.

"Let's settle this." He snarls although he barely moves from his lounging position.

"How do you declare we do that spicy boi?" A hush suddenly falls over the room at your most recent and his most hated nickname.

Explosions threaten to pop but the TV blares before he can.

"THIS WEEK ON COOK OFF!"

"OH OH!" Kirishima pipes in, jumping up to point at the TV frantically.

"Fuck no." Bakugou bites out, sending daggers the red heads way.

"Oh come on Bakugou it will be fun!" He whines only to be shut down again. This time with an explosion. The hot head jumps to his feet with smoking hands.

"I SAID FUCK NO!"

"Why? Too scared you'll get your ass kicked?" You prompt, looking at your nails as you speak. He stalks your way leaning over you as you sit on the couch.

"I'm too scared you'll lose so badly you'll have to commit seppuku to regain your honor." The tension is palpable in the large living room, making some of the students feel small from its weight.

"Oh so you admit you worry about me?" You say in your most flirtatious voice, placing your hand onto his shoulder because you love to get under his skin. He jerks back with crazed eyes.

"I don't give a fuck about any of you extras!"

"Good! Now we need judges. Todoroki?" You ask but Bakugou shakes his head.

"His palette is as expanded as a fucking toddler's." The ash blonde shakes his head, "Mother fucker eats cold soba for breakfast lunch AND dinner."

"Ouch." An invisible arrow pierces the two toned boy in the chest.

"Well..." You look around the room, "It can't be biased..."

"Deku? Oh no wait then you'll use him as an *excuse* when you lose." You giggle, his cheeks burn from the sound.

"Fuck you and fuck Deku." He snarls, "What about Shinso?"

"Aaahh that's a good one. He hates everyone equally." You chime in, placing your hand in your chin as you look over your peers.

"Wow glad you noticed." He rolls his amethyst eyes although he does not object.

"Oh Denki!" You point at the electric

"OMG YES MY TIME TO SHINE BABY!" He fists his hands into the pants of your legs, so happy to be included.

"NO! Not pikachu! His brain is FRIED!" Bakugou snarls and Denki let's out a sad 'hey' while a crocodile tear rolls down his cheek.

"Yes, that's what would make him the best wild card! You'll never know what he's gonna think!" You absentmindedly let your hand pet over the curve of his skull.

Part of you wonders if suggesting him is a bad idea. Your eyes flicker to the TV just to see someone asking the sweating chefs what they are planning.

"Kirishima can be the host!" You say with excitement, "Now we just need one more judge. Someone who likes to eat."

Silence settles over the room aside from the now low roar of the TV

"I've got it!" Your new ruby eyed host pipes in, "I'll ask Sun Eater senpai!"

"He's so meek. How are you going to get him to agree?" You ask as a some what devilish smile crosses his face.

"Oi, I forgot you came in after. Poor guy got pestered by shitty hair until he said yes to taking him to his agency." Bakugou crosses his arms.

"We'll compete tomorrow! I've got to prepare!" You stare after Kirishima who runs to get his phone, you cant see him bullying someone into helping him.

×××××××××

You had never been proven more wrong as you stand in the dorms over sized kitchen in front of the panel of judges.

Shinso who looks bored, Denki who reminds you of a kid hopped up on sugar and a petrified Tamaki.

"Welcome chefs!" Kirishima announces, it's funny how quickly he made the kitchen look much like the studio. Even forcing you and Bakugou into real chef jackets while Kirishima wears one of his suits.

"Oi, you really went all out." He growls, somehow making the compliment sound like an insult. You roll your eyes before you let them linger over Bakugou. Much like you he wears the black jacket with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, he has a towel resting over a broad shoulder.

Somehow this outfit makes your cheeks burn. You swallow, looking out over the "live" audience, aka class 1A with every chair they could find in the dorm piled into the smallest part of the kitchen.

Sitting on the edges of their seats.

"Today the two of you will be placed head to head agaisnt one another to become UA's top chef!" Kirishima announces with gusto even earning a small cheer from the audience.

"Tonights prize does not only include bragging rights BUT this!" He gestures widely to the obviously paper mache trophy, Bakugou snorts.

"Really? You could have asked Momo over there?" He points in the dark and Kirishima blushes a bit. Although he is saved as Momo walks towards the front, not breaking the attire with her long sleep dress that looks more like a ball room gown. Kirishima thanks her silently before punching the old trophy off with the new one.

"Who will when this amazing trophy and the title of UA's top chef?" Kirishima looks to the audience before adding, "Let's find out!"

"Contestants, today's challenge is broken down into three parts. Appetizer, entree and dessert! The three dishes must meld flawlessly with one another! You have ten minutes to look over the ingredients and come up with a meal plan. Starting.....now!"

The two of you jump, pulling open at the two large fridges behind you to be met with an array of vegetables and meats.

"Are they like timed?" Shinso asks, as he twirls his fork.

"Good question, Shinso. Yes each portion of the competition will be timed!"

As you begin to put together your game plan you rush towards the pantry. Fear making you hesitate, the pantry was mostly empty just yesterday.

"Oi! Open the fucking door!" A yell behind you before you rip open the cabinet with blatant rage.

Surprisingly the pantry is popping at the seams, ingredients pop out at you that you hastily grab.

"Chefs your time is up! You have fifteen minutes to begin prepare your first dish! GO!"

Excitement pushes your body into motion as you slice bacon strips down the middle. Your thoughts compete with the vigorous chopping from the station next to you as you delicately wrap sliced puff pastry around the now bacon wrapped asparagus.

"Chef Bakugou what are you preparing?"

"Use your fucking eyes." He growls, adding something to a bowl.

"Hey..." Kirishima sounds crestfallen, almost hurt and its hurt enough for Katuski to sigh.

"Alright alright. I'll tell you. Stop pouting!" He chops into a radish harshly to emphasize his point before going on.

"I believe its important to go a little on the lighter side for a starter. Almost refreshing cleanses the palette." Your ears perk at his deep voice as you pull your starter from the oven, "So I'm making a radish and cucumber salad with rice vinager and chili flakes for a small kick."

"It looks wonderful chef!" Kirshima comments before adding, "Five minutes to plate!"

"Shit..." You hiss to yourself as you delicately arrange your asparagus twists, while popping hands roast sesame seeds in an instant before tossing them into the salad.

The two if you plate, arrange and present until kirishima finally shouts

"TIMES UP! STEP AWAY FROM THE PLATES!" Both of you back away with raised hands.

"First up. Y/N-chan." Kirishima says happily as the judges look over their food.

Shinso takes a bite first.

"Flavorful. Savory. Its delicious." Is all he offers as he eats his second.

"Kaminari?" Kirishima prompts. Denki is smiling ear to ear before a rare seriousness washes over his features as he chews.

"I dont like asparagus." He states with a harsh tone.

"IM FUCKED!" You scream internally.

"But you've made me like it."

"IM UNFUCKED!"

Kaminari takes another bite, thinking it over

"The puff pastry is airy and buttery and surprisingly the bacon is crispy without your vegetable drying out. Very well done."

You glance at Bakugou who mouths

"Is he fucking Gorden Ramsey now?" To which you giggle.

"Tamaki senpai, please do not judge on usefulness for your quirk but by taste." Kirishima encourages as Tamaki almost shrinks away. He takes a bite before smiling.

"I..its delicious. Togata would enjoy this."

"Next up Bakugou!"

"Nice kick, cool cuc flavor. I like it." Shinso nods to Bakugou as he makes a mark in on the pad provided.

"Honestly, Chef Katsuki. I was really worried about the heat level when I saw your heavy handed toss of pepper flakes into the salad. But the flakes really bring out the tang of the rice vinager, the smoky flavor of the sesame seed while the radish and cucumber take the edge away *just* enough." Kaminari says before taking another bite, scribbling as he chews.

This time Bakugou looks to you and you laugh aloud at his bewildered scarlet eyes.

"Just got with it!" You call from your station. Struggling to keep your giggle.

Who knew confusion could look so cute?

"Its just the right amount of spice. Togata would enjoy this."

"Take your station, Katsuki as we will now begin the main course. You have thirty five minutes to prepare!"

Time ticks by faster than you'd like as your watched pot of water finally boils. You add in chopped golden potatoes setting a timer before butter flying your chicken breasts for a more even cook and better grilled sear.

Bakugou works furiously with his steak, pounding at it to quickly tenderize it, adding an aromatic garlic herb butter to a heated pan. He swirls the melting blob until it coats the bottom of the pan.

Both of you are about to start your meats before Kirishima breaks your concentration.

"Chefs! I've found an ingredient you HAVE to incorporate into your main dish." He presents a rectangular package that has you seething.

"KIRISHIMA WHAT THE FUCK?!" You both yell in unison, slamming your meats on your cutting boards.

"Dry packs of ramen noodles!" He announces in case either of you couldn't read the damn packaging!

"What the fuck?" Is all the two of you can say as you're tossed the package of ramen noodles. You stare at your dish, you couldn't easily shift your meal plan into Asian like Bakugou could thanks to his universal salad. The dishes had to be cohesive and you had fucking POTATOES BOILING TO BE MASHED

You stare almost stunned as the red rectangle stares back at you.

You hated ramen.

Meanwhile Bakugou grumbles to himself as he slices his steak into thin strips, adding ginger, a bit of sesame seed oil, green onion and some beef broth to boil.

He tosses in the package of ramen.

"This is cheap shit." He grumbles to himself before adding the steak in a few moments later slamming a lid onto the pan. He was lucky he picked a deep pan as opposed to his original idea of a shallow one.

"Half of the time is remaining chefs!"

"Perfect!" You slam your fist into your palm as you make haste. Quickly grabbing eggs, milk, flour and the food processor.

You begun to crush the noodles until they become a fine grain.

"Eji do we have to use the stupid flavor packet?"

"Fucking why would you ask?!" Bakugou snarls your way, ruby red eyes slide to the panel.

"Judges?"

"No." They answer in unison and you both sigh in relief. For you it would have been hard to incorporate to your sudden idea of fried chicken while the flavoring would be too salty and undercut the flavor building he had done for his dish.

You mash your potatoes, adding in garlic cloves, cubes of butter, a bit of season salt all before emulsifying it to a whipped state.

"Five minutes chefs!"

You begin to really sweat now, you didnt want to rush your chicken for fear of the batter not becoming crispy enough or worse yet an undercooked breast.

"Three minutes chefs!"

"Fuck! Cook chicky cook!" You mumble to the fryer, scarlet eyes shift to your bouncing frame, plating his own food, swiping juices that splatter.

"Come on plate damn it! It's done!" He shouts to you.

"You *do* care!" You tease, although your heart is in your throat as you place the chicken onto the plate, drizzling a honied mustard over the breasts.

"Like hell. It's just winning by default is boring. I want to watch them spit your food out." His voice comes out soaking in malice but his eyes say otherwise. Mischief and excitement dance along his scarlet iris.

"AND TIME!" You both step away from your plates. Breathing heavily as the two of you look down at your master pieces.

Bakugou places his hand on the small of your back to guide you in front of the panel as Kirishima grabs your dishes.

"Bakugou you're up first."

"This is not thirty cent ramen." Is all Shinso says as he slurps up the noodles before biting into the beef. No one misses his eyes flutter.

"Wow." Is all Kaminari can say chewing with delight, "Just wow. I would have thought the noodles were homemade. The beef is tender, all cooked evenly. The sauce flavorful, a hit of ginger and I'm surprised you hadn't added any heat. I would have loved to have seen a five alarm ramen from you."

Bakugou grinds his teeth to keep from shouting at his last remark.

"Togata would enjoy this."

"I'll be sure to make him a to go plate." Kirishima winks before presenting your dish.

"I never would have thought to use ramen as breeding." Purple eyes glitter as he devours the chicken.

"Me either. Its excellently light, you matured everyone's favorite honey mustard by making it with a sharper brown mustard and the potatoes are soft, beautifully whipped and garlicy!"

"This is 'southern food?'" Tamaki asks, "Togata would like it."

You smile warmly.

"Last round chefs! You'll have forty five minutes to prepare a dessert with *this* ingredient." He holds up a green can and your stomach sinks.

"Is that fucking wasabi?" Bakugou snarls, even the heat king is stunned.

"Yes chef it is. Please incorporate this ingredient into your dish. Starting...NOW!"

You stare at the green can. What in the actual fuck? Maybe you should have made a menu more geared towards Asian cuisine.

I mean you were in FUCKING JAPAN AFTER ALL.

You snatch onto the can, now was not the time to damn yourself. You could do this. You could beat Bakugou!

Even if it killed you.

You decided to taste it, youd never actually had it, just knew that it was potent.

"That's too much idiot!" Bakugou yells from his station just as your about to put a heaping teaspoon into your mouth.

"Like scoop with a chop stick." He says, showing you himself. His chopstick dips into the wasabi to return with the smallest of green.

You mimic him, popping it into your mouth as instant regret washes over you as you try to break down the components of the flavor.

It was hot with underlying notes of freshness, almost herbal as the heat began to fade.

But with that regret comes an idea.

You work vigorously grabbing all the chocolate you can find before making a batch of brownies, wasabi mixed into the batter.

Nothing was more southern than cake or a brownie.

"I'll fucking tell you what..." You finish the thought aloud as you worked.

All the while Bakugou glances to you with concerned eyes before he measures out the perfect amount of coconut milk to reduce with almond milk, a split vanilla pod, some sugar, honey and wasabi powder.

Soon his odd mixture becomes fragrant, the freshness of it competing with the richness of baking brownies.

Time ticks by too quickly as you snatch the wasabi powder from Bakugou adding the smallest amount to powdered sugar, cocoa and milk as you make the frosting to your brownies.

You feel like you're ahead of time as your plate, eyes looking over to Bakugou who is garnishing ramekins with edible flowers and flakes of coconut.

"Fuck." You murmur before pipping on some icing. Smoothing it out with a knife. Plating it as Kirishima obnoxiously counts down.

"Time!" He yells. You're shaking before glancing at Bakugou who seems nervous himself. Again he guides you to the panel, you lean into him for a bit of support.

Your heart was racing, sweat still dripping down the nape of your neck and beading on your brow.

You couldn't tell who's dishes they favored and there was a chance you could very well lose.

You'd hate to admit but Bakugou's station smelt fucking amazing all night.

"Y/N!" Kirishima smiles a wide tooth smile, "Wasabi brownies. Interesting."

"You mean fucking fire." Shinso says.

"Its astounding how the chocolate adds to the heat with out one overpowering the other. A delicate scale was balanced today."

You find Bakugou's hand by his side. giving it a squeeze to keep yourself form laughing. He leans towards you and whispers into your ear.

"Bet you're regretting adding Flavor Town onto the board."

A giggle escapes your lips that drives Katuski mad.

"Togata would love this! Please save a square for him!"

The judges cleanse their palates before moving into Bakugou's dessert.

"So delicate." Shino adds, looking down at the purple flowers.

"Watch it." He bites but you again squeeze his hand, this time whispering to him

"That means he likes it. You did an amazing job plating."

He watches you smile as you drink in their comments about *his * dish.

"I like that you start and finish things with a refreshing yet memorable dish. The edible flowers add immense color to this dish, the wasabi heightens the sweetness of the honey and the coconut flakes add a little bit of both crunch and depth. Excellent."

"So pretty..." Tamkai stares at his dessert before adding a small bite into his mouth. His eyes flutter and you know then that you've lost.

That's two different judges with different meals that he has impressed. He squeezes your hands, you look up to him expecting a smug smile only to see nervousness.

"The judges will now debate. Please sit in the waiting room while they discuss who will be UA's top chef!"

"Where the fuck is that?" The blonde snarls.

"The living room!" He whispers as you drag an agitated Bakugou with you.

The two of you sit in silence, sinking into the couches with tired bodies.

Adrenaline can do that to you. Minutes tick by before you sigh out.

"I'm pretty sure you won. You..." You gush, "Amazing. That salad looked so damn good!"

Katuski cannot help the smile that spreads across his face as he watches you sing his praises.

"Honestly your southern dishes were something new to them. That's far better and seriously ramen as a breeding? Innovative as fuck." He sags in the couch closer to you. The two of you half fighting over who really one by pointing out the best moves the other did.

Gradually gravitating closer to one another with heatedexcitement fueled by friendly competition. The two of you are butting foreheads as you argue.

"But the flowers were stunning...." The vigor in your tone dies down as you stare into something else that else stunning.

Scarlet eyes sparkle like gems in the low light of the side table lamps. Suddenly you are hyper aware of your proximity to him. You try to scoot back only for your hip to hit the arm of the couch, barely moving a centimeter. You were safely nestled between the couch and his amazingly muscular arms.

Bakugou swallows his desire as he drinks you in this close, having never realizing how pretty you actually were.

Add that to your ability to kick ass on the battle field and in the kitchen had Bakugou looking at you in a whole new light. He seems to choke on his desire as one strong hand finds the nape of your neck.

"I bet nothing tastes as delicious as your lips." He says before pressing his own to yours.

The saying alone has your body flushed and a small whimper erupts in the back of your throat as you closed your eyes.

Shit.

You liked arrogant, smart mouthed, excellent chef handsome ass Bakugou.

And now that you've tasted him, you'll never want to eat anything else again.

You kiss him back with matched passion and the two of you forget about the competition for a moment. Foot steps had the two of you breaking apart, cheeks burning brighter than the boy's hair whose entered the living room just missing everything.

"They are ready to announce the winner." He turns on his heel, expecting the two of you to follow. Both of you share a look before standing. Bakugou wraps his arm around your waist pulling you close to him so he can whisper in the cockiest tone he can muster.

"After they announce me as winner. Let me make you dessert."

@we-starlight-in-the-making @kiribakuho @babybakuu @zbops @crimsondream-1 @alwaysmy crazy ass did it. I made the fic I wanted

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha crack #bnha fanfiction #bnha fun #bnha cook #katuski bakugou #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 4 years ago

Text

Officially Nowhere

“Sam! Where are we going?”

“Trust me, Cap. I know a place. We’re going somewhere safe.”

“Nat, you still with us?!”

“I’m good.” she said. Her breathing was ragged but she was holding on.

“She needs a medic. Fast.”

“I know. We’re 2 minutes out.”

They pulled up to a gate. Sam sped up to drive through. He silently thanked heaven that it wasn’t rigged with explosives. He’d keep that to himself. He knew you wouldn’t be pleased to have all of this commotion dropped in your lap but you’d help anyway. Steve jumped out of the car and grabbed Nat rushing her to your door. He went to go kick it in thinking the place was abandoned. Sam shouted, “WAIT!!” but it was too late. Steve had a gun to his head faster than he was able to release his leg. He froze in place looking to Sam who was running to his side.

“Y/N! It’s me! Don’t shoot!” Sam said putting up his hands.

“Wilson? What the fuck is this?”

“I’m sorry. We need your help. Romanoff is hurt. Please.”

“Lower your weapon, soldier” Steve said in a rather commanding way. You laughed. “I will as soon as she does” pointing to Nat with your chin. Nat had her weapon pointed at you.

“Everyone lets calm down. Y/N they are friendly. I trust them.” Your face softened a bit as Nat raised her hands. You holstered your weapon and stepped aside. “ Put her on the kitchen table. I’ll get my bag.” “Where are we?” asked Steve. “Officially? I am no one. You are nowhere. I’m not helping you. Unofficially I’m Y/N. I’m a former combat medic and this is my house. Nice to meet you. Now please. The table.”

You grabbed some supplies from a hall closet. Nat was talking so she seemed to be breathing ok. “Let’s see.” Steve hovered at her side. “Captain you’ll have to move so I can evaluate her injuries.” He moved out of the way and you got to work. “You know who I am?” He asked still watching you work. “Of course. Everyone does. Romanoff was it?” Nat nodded. “You were hit. Through and through by the looks of it. I can patch you up but you’ll need surgery to see if you’re bleeding internally. She needs to get to a hospital, Sam.”

“No. No hospital.” Nat said through gritted teeth. You gave her something for the pain. She started to drift off. “What did you give her?!” Steve shouted reaching for his gun. “Relax. It’s for pain. I don’t think your girlfriend wants to feel me rooting around inside a bullet wound.” He relaxed a little. Sam went to the fridge to get some water for Steve and a beer for himself. You finished sewing up the wound and swabbed her skin with disinfectant. “That will do for now. I have a spare bedroom in the back. We need to get her there to rest.” Steve picked up Nat and got her to the room. You started an IV and hooked her up to a few machines to monitor her. “She’ll be out for a while, Captain.” You patted him on the shoulder and pulled a chair to her bedside. “She’s lucky to have you.” As you stepped into the doorway he looked back and said, “Thank you, Y/N. I really can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate all you’ve done....and she’s not my girlfriend.”

You went back into the kitchen where Sam was already cleaning up. You opened a beer and got him another. “So. Wanna tell me what’s going on?” “Yeah. We’re fugitives. Hiding out from SHIELD, Hydra the US government. And, if that wasn’t enough, a brain washed super soldier who happens to be Cap’s best friend.” He sunk down onto the couch sighing heavily. You sat next to him laughing quietly to yourself. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just you. You always get mixed up in stupid ass shit. You’re like a trouble magnet.” He laughed half heartedly lying his head back.

“You have no idea. I’m glad I get to see you you know but not under these circumstances. How have you been doing?”

“You know me, Sam. I manage.”

“Have you been going out on jobs?”

“A few. Mild stuff. Search and rescues...assassinations. Nothing too strenuous.”

“What about the nightmares?”

“They are still around.”

You heard shuffling and saw Steve standing in the doorway. “Sorry. Nat’s awake.”

“Oh great. Let me go see about her.” Steve sat down in a big chair and let out a long tired sigh. “You hungry, man? Y/N has a big grill outside. I can throw something on.” With his eyes still closed he nodded and tried to will himself out of the chair to help. You came back with Nat at your side saying, “Look who’s back from the dead” Nat pressed her hand into her bandage stifling a laugh.

Sam jumped up to help her get situated. “Hey Y/N Steve and I are gonna get the grill going. What can I cook?”

“Oh I got it.”

“No, ma’am. You’ve done enough today. Put your feet up. We got it.” Sam said while he pushed you back down on the couch.

“Check the fridge. I have all kinds of meat in there. Grab what looks good.”

While they were rummaging through the kitchen you checked ok Nat again. “Y/N please. I’m fine. Take a load off.” And so you did. You sat quietly for several minutes watching the men out of the window. They seemed a little more at ease now chatting and laughing. You focused in on Steve. You wondered what he was really like when he wasn’t Captain America. He seemed worn out..worried. Nat was watching you watch him. You didn’t know it but you were biting your bottom lip. You did that when you were really thinking.

“He’s not bad to look at” she finally said. You startled at sound of her voice.

“No, he’s not. What’s his story? Girlfriend? Wife?”

Nat laughed, “he doesn’t date much. Kind of keeps to himself. You should see him on a mission though. The guy is a beast”

“I’ll bet he is.”

“What’s your story, Y/N? How many tours did you serve?”

“Three. Combat medic.”

“Is that how you know Sam?”

“Yeah. I saved his life a few times. Then he saved mine.”

“Can I ask why the Army thinks you were KIA?”

“Because they assumed that, when they left me on the side of the road to die, I actually did die. Thank goodness for Sam. He spotted me when he was out on patrol and took care of me. I owe him everything.”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Your own unit?!”

You chuckled “Yep. My own unit. I was the only woman. I had a nonconsensual run in with one of the guys. Asked to be transferred and swore I wouldn’t report. My last night on the base they took me out for a send off dinner. We never made it. A couple of them pulled me out of the Jeep. They took turns brutalizing and beating me. Pushed me down an embankment. I swear I have no idea how Sam saw me.” Nat’s mouth hung open and closed several times trying to find words. She was at a loss.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you. So you’re just hiding out here? All by yourself? What do you do for money? Physical contact with people?”

“I tend to avoid physical contact unless I have needs to fulfill.” You smiled to yourself. “As far as cash goes, when I was in the hospital I met some of the royal family from Wakanda. They were there on a good will visit meeting wounded civilians. They listened to my story and took me in. Put me to work. That’s why I can afford to stay in the lap of luxury.” You both laughed. She held your hand and squeezed. Giving you a shy half smile she said, “I’m so glad Sam found you.” You had tears in your eyes. You choked them back not wanting to give them any satisfaction. You don’t cry over that night anymore.

“Hey ladies! Soup’s on!” Sam shouted from the door.

You helped Nat out onto the patio. The four of you spent the evening talking and laughing like old friends. You and Steve were definitely flirting. You excused yourself to pick up the dishes. As soon as you were inside Sam an Nat pounced.

“Dude! You are totally flirting with her.” Sam said playfully. Steve waved him off.

“Come on, Cap. She’s flirting back. It’s adorable.” Nat teased.

Steve blushed. “She is isn’t she?”

“Get in there, man. Make a move.” said Sam as he nudged Steve’s arm. He shook his head “no” “GO!” they said in unison. He flushed crimson and sweat started to bead on his forehead. He went into the kitchen to help with the dishes. Steve kept looking out the window at the two of them who smiled like proud parents.

“Christ she’s going to eat him alive” Nat said still smiling.

“It’s hard to watch” Sam replied. The two of them went to bed leaving you two on your own.

“I’ll wash you dry?” You said as you threw Steve a towel.

“Yes, ma’am. So how do you manage to live off the grid like this? Must be lonely.”

“It can be. I work when I am asked. When I have needs to meet I take care of it.”

“I was under the impression that no one knew you existed.”

“I work for the Royal Family of Wakanda. It’s a long story. They’re the only ones.”

“What kind of work do you do for them?”

“I am a War Dog. Part of the central intelligence service of Wakanda.”

“So can you tell me what kinds of missions you go on?”

“Need to know, Captain.”

“I see. I hope you stay safe. And please call me Steve.” He rested his hands on the kitchen island watching you bend over to put away a pan. You could feel his eyes on you. You giggled to yourself.

“I’m the safest.” you say with a wink “And I rather like calling you Captain.” He cleared his throat and adjusted his pants to hide his arousal.

“Well I guess I’ll turn in.”

“Or you can stay up with me for a little bit. I don’t get much company I’m sure you can imagine. Let’s go out to the deck.”

You lit the fire pit and grabbed a couple of blankets. The air was crisp. The slight breeze felt good against your neck. You didn’t realize how warm you were. You pulled the blanket higher around your shoulders your skin shivering into goosebumps. You had a bottle of wine and a glass for each of you. “Red ok?” You poured way too much in his glass. “Red is fine. That’s plenty. Are you trying to get me drunk?” He laughed a little making your cheeks warm. “Me? Never.” “You do know I can’t get drunk? My metabolism is too fast. Alcohol burns right off. “ You plopped down next to him with an exaggerated hmph. “Well that puts a hitch in my plans.”

He smiled at you. This was not his Captain America smile. This smile spread on his lips very slowly like a cat that ate the canary. He rested his hand on your knee and said, “You don’t need to get me drunk.” You let out a small sigh and your eyes fluttered closed. You set your glass down and put your hand on top of his. You stared at each other for what felt like an eternity and you leaned in to kiss him. He was timid at first only softly pressing his lips against yours. “Is this ok?” you whispered. “Hell yes” he replied.

He bent his neck so you didn’t have to strain to meet him. You pressed your lips together slowly snaking your tongue inside his mouth. Your tongues met dancing together exploring each other. His fingers ran the length of your spine before settling at your hips. He pulled you on top of him without having to separate from you. You could feel how hard he was and you pressed down on him making him moan in your mouth. Your hands moved to his belt buckle removing his belt in one fluid motion. He unbuttoned your shirt pushing over your shoulders. You slipped your hand into his underwear stroking his impressive length the tip already dripping. Steve was horny to the point of pain. He moved his hips fucking your hand and was almost ready to cum then. “Wait....I don’t want to cum yet.” he said breathless dropping his head back. “Oh no, Captain, not yet.” Your voice was low and husky. Still straddling him you kissed the stubble on his jaw line down to the spot just below his ear. You felt his pulse racing against your lips. His skin was salty with sweat and smelled delicious. He was panting now. His hands were a vice grip on your hips silently begging you press down to give him release. You sat back on your heels taking off your shirt and bra giving him a little show. You stood up pulling your pants and panties down. He felt like you were moving in slow motion. You were back on him taking off his shirt. You trailed a finger over his abs marveling at the definition. The hair on his belly was sticky with his own juices. His cock looked like it was going to explode. You fisted the waistband of his pants and underwear in your hands and tugged them down. He lifted up a little to make it easier. Your eyes were locked on each other’s, Steve’s mouth open slightly breathing heavy. You slipped two fingers into his mouth and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “suck”. He obliged. Once they were wet enough you removed them and brought them down to your pussy. You leaned back so he could have an uninhibited view of your fingers dipping in. Your other hand was on your clit rubbing furiously. He steadied you with one arm at the small of your back. He wanted to touch you but you slapped his hand away. When you were almost to the point of orgasm you stopped sitting up abruptly. You lowered yourself onto his cock and rode him until you both exploded.

After a few minutes you rolled off of his lap onto the couch. You slapped your hand down on his thigh and said, “ What do you say, Captain? Up for round two?” His lips split into a devastating grin, “I can do this all day.” And so you did twice more. Once was in the shower where you scrubbed each other clean. He pressed your back against the cold tile driving himself into you while he held your legs. The last time was bent over the foot of your bed. When you finished he collapsed his full weight on top of you. Your breathing mirrored his both sated and exhausted. He trailed kisses on the back of your neck slapping your ass as he stood up. You crawled towards your pillow. He stretched out next to you. You didn’t speak. He pulled you onto his chest and held you. As you drifted off to sleep he kissed the top of your head. That was the first night in ages that you were nightmare free.

The next morning Sam was the first one up. He walked to the living room glancing out of the door going out to the deck. Your clothes were scattered on the ground. He chuckled to himself. Alright, Steve. He made his way to the kitchen to make coffee. Nat wandered in next, “Did I see underwear on the deck?” Sam looked over his shoulder, “Our little boy is growing up, Nat.”

You woke up feeling way too hot. Steve was sleeping with his body curled around you. You freed yourself and slid out of the bed trying not to wake him. He didn’t stir. You got dressed and snuck out of the room. When you got to the kitchen Nat and Sam were at the table chatting. “Morning. Ooh thanks for making coffee.”

“Y/N, wanna tell us what happened last night?” asked Sam

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Is Steve still sleeping?”

“Yep. Or I killed him. Not sure.”

Nat’s phone rang. She stepped outside to answer. She came back in interrupting your conversation. “We have to go. That was Hill. We know what Pierce is planning for Project Insight. I’ll fill you in on the ride. On the road in 10.” Sam was on his feet gathering his things. You grabbed Steve’s clothes. Back in your bedroom Steve was awake but still lying on the pillow. He was thinking about Bucky. You opened the door peeking in. “Hey. Time for you to go to work, Captain. Nat just got a phone call. She said on the road in 10.” You sat on the bed next to him. He held your hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss your finger tips. “I don’t want to go.”

“Ah well. You have a job to do.” He kissed your palm and rested it on his cheek. His eyes closed and he sighed deeply. “Can I see you again?” “You know where to find me.” You smiled and got off the bed, “Now March, soldier”

You said your goodbyes. You told them to come back to visit. You couldn’t help but feel a little pang of sadness. Sam wrapped you in a bear hug. “Be safe, man.” “Thanks for everything, Y/N.”

“Cap. We have to go” Nat shouted.

“Be there in a sec. I’ll come back soon.”

“You’d better. Be safe, Captain.” He kissed you deeply. You hugged him around his neck. Nat beeped the horn. He kissed you again and then he was gone.

Later you saw on the news three Helicarriers were destroyed and crashed into the Potomac. The report said Steve was shot. You grabbed your phone and called Sam. It rang once, “He’s ok.” You hung up. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath.

Once Steve was out of the hospital he said his goodbyes to Nat and Fury. He looked down at Bucky’s file. “You’re going after him.” “You don’t have to come with me. I have to make a pit stop though.” Sam smiled, “Where to?” Steve smiled back. “Officially? Nowhere.”

#captain america x reader #mcu smut #mcu x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #captain america smut

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sithsecrets · 5 years ago

Text

A Matter of Expediency - Part XI

After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

—

Part 11

4.5k words

Mentions: pregnancy, swearing, mild sexual content, discussions of past relationships, menstruation

—

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask your husband, hesitantly settling in his lap as he starts up his TIE-fighter, flipping switches and pushing buttons.

“Oh yes,” Kylo assures you, absently pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I would never put your in danger.”

You’re still not convinced, unsure about two people galivanting through space in a one-man vessel, but Kylo’s arm is strong around your waist, his words comforting. And honestly, you’re too excited to really be bothered, thrumming with anticipation at the notion of zooming around the ship with your husband after hours.

Kylo is careful as he guides your ship out of the hangar, exiting the Supremacy with care. But as soon as the two of you are fully out in the inky expanse of space, he punches the accelerator, sending the little craft off at an exhilarating speed. You giggle as Kylo whips you around the ship, squealing when he makes sharp twists and turns with master precision. Hux had told you that your husband was an excellent pilot, but you had no idea what that really meant, accustomed to traveling on casual transport vessels. But Kylo is being anything but casual, telling you to hold on as he executes rolls and loops and other tricks that make your heart jump up in your throat.

Clutching onto your husband tightly, you’re absolutely delighted to realize that he’s enjoying himself too, grinning against the side of your face as he tells you to brace yourself before he does something complex. Stars, he even laughs, the sound of his joy coming from deep in his chest. He loves this, you realize, loves to fly. Your husband, a serious man, a man with little time to himself and so much to do, loves to go out and do the one thing that probably makes him feel truly and supremely free. And what’s better still, he’s decided to share this hobby of his with you.

By the time Kylo lands the TIE back in hangar two, you’re breathless and giddy, flushed with elation from all that’s just happened. As soon as Kylo pops the door open to give the both of you a bit more air, you’re on him in an instant, pressing kisses to his face as you laugh and laugh. He kisses you back, holding you and smiling into your mouth.

“Did you have fun?” Kylo asks, finally peeling you away from him.

“More fun than I’ve ever had in my life!” you exclaim, turning to fall back against his chest with a sigh. Wistfully, you add, “Oh, we should do that every night.”

Your husband settles his arms around your middle, nuzzling into your hair. “If the Empress commands it, then so it shall be.”

You smile at that but say nothing, content to stare out at the stars glittering in the distance before you. Kylo’s got his little craft positioned so that the two of you can gaze out the back of the hangar, safe inside the climate preservers and blastshields. The two of you hold one another for a long while, sitting in comfortable silence until Kylo finally speaks.

“Did you have any lovers before me?” he asks, settling you in his lap.

“I told you the night we wed that you were my first,” you reply, brows drawing together in confusion. You thought the whole thing had been rather unforgettable, but maybe that was because you were the one who wiped a bit of blood from between your legs when all was said and done.

“Well of course,” Kylo says quickly, sensing your disconcertment. “But did you have any other… beloveds? A boyfriend, or just someone who cared for you?”

You shake your head. “No. Mila was very good at turning others against me, and there are many beautiful girls my age in my husband’s court. Everyone passed over me, I think.”

Kylo kisses the top of your head upon hearing this, arms holding your tighter. He hesitates as he goes to speak though, almost as if he’s choosing his words carefully. “Even the women who attended to you?”

You balk at that, caught off-guard by the question. Memories flit through your mind like flashes of light, and for the first time in years, you think of Sabe’s hands, of the way her lips felt on your neck. The two of you had been so young then, barely Helda’s age when you first kissed each other in the dark. It was an innocent little tryst for the most part, two teenagers sneaking into each other’s beds to make out for a couple of hours while everyone else was asleep. There was only one time that something “serious” happened between the two of you, something that was a bit more than simple kissing. You had been so nervous when Sabe opened the front of your nightgown, self-conscious about your body back then. But her mouth was warm and soft and wet as she suckled at your breast, laving her tongue across your nipples in a way that made you sweat. She never touched you, never actually made you cum, but that was the first time you can remember really wanting to have sex with someone. No promises were made, you never courted one another, but you would be lying if you said there wasn’t a bit of puppy love at play all those years ago. Obviously, though, the little fling ended, fizzling out with the heat of the summer months. You thought Sabe had moved on forever and a day ago, but you’ve been rethinking the idea of that since her little post-engagement explosion.

“I see,” Kylo says softly, breaking you from your thoughts. Embarrassment washes over you then, staining your cheeks with crimson— he saw what you were thinking about.

“I don’t miss her,” you say at once, rushing to explain lest your husband mistake your reminiscing for longing or pining. “We were virtual children then, curious and bored and accessible to one other. I just don’t like how we ended our friendship is all. Sabe was very angry when I said I wanted to marry you, even after you offered me a chance to break things off. Myself and my other ladies ended up having a fight with her about it, and it was ugly. She was ugly.”

Kylo gives you a squeeze around the middle, comforting and companionable. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug, mildly upset and completely unaffected all at the same time. The little relationship you had with Sabe is all water under the bridge, old news from years ago that you look back on with fondness. But her cruel comments towards yourself and Lydia have not faded with time, and they still sour your image of her overall.

Tired of thinking about the matter, you shake your head to clear away of images of Sabe, of her mean eyes and her soft mouth. Reaching a hand back to toy with a lock of your husband’s hair, you decide it’s his turn in the hot seat.

“What about you?” you ask, inquiring about his past relationships. “I’m sure you had many beautiful lovers before me.”

Kylo plays it modest, simply saying, “I took women to my bed on occasion, yes, but they were never anyone special.”

You won’t let him get away that easily, though, pressing for details. “Who did you sleep with?”

Once again, your husband is casual, speaking the truth without boasting. “Women I met through diplomatic work, mostly. The parties and the dinners, you know how it is.”

In actuality, you don’t know how it is, but you nod companionably nonetheless. You’re an adult— you understand the basic premise of what he’s saying.

“You never had girlfriends, lovers you saw regularly?”

A shake of the head, and then, “None of them interested me. But I certainly didn’t string anyone along. I watch officers do that to people all the time, and it disgusts me to no end. My intentions were always clear from the outset.”

You admire and respect that sentiment, pleased to hear that your husband never went through a womanizing phase like so many men of station do. And not because he wasn’t desired, either, for you’re sure the women (and men) flung themselves at Kylo back in the day the same way they do now.

Your final question is perhaps your most invasive, but you think Kylo won’t be offended if you ask it. “What was your first time like?”

“When I was twenty-two, Supreme Leader Snoke sent me to negotiate a treaty on Valdera,” Kylo begins. “As you know, the President of Valdera and his Parliament like to partake in quite a bit of… merrymaking when they receive guests. They threw me a feast, and many important officials were there. Nearly all of them were drunk before we even began eating, but I didn’t feel comfortable becoming inebriated amongst strangers.”

You nod, pressing a kiss to your husband’s knuckles to show that you’re listening.

“Anyway, as I was having dinner and trying to ignore all of the foolishness going on around me, I felt as though I was being watched. When I looked down the table, I saw that it was a woman who was staring at me. She was seated in a dignitary’s lap, and I thought at first that she was his wife. But then I noticed that other women had come to the table as well, and I understood at once that she was some sort of concubine. Or a prostitute, maybe. In any case, she was very beautiful, and I could see everything she was picturing in her head as she looked me over.”

“She was fantasizing about you,” you say, and not without a bit of jealously. This woman is long gone, a relic of Kylo’s past, but you still can’t help yourself from being a bit miffed.

Your husband must sense the change in your mood, because he draws you closer to his chest, laughing lightly. “Yes, you possessive little thing, she was.”

Though you’re not ready to be done sulking just yet, you crack a smile nonetheless, unable to stay mad when Kylo’s teasing you and nuzzling his nose against your ear.

“Naturally,” Kylo continues, “I was a bit taken aback, but I didn’t say anything there at the table. A few hours later, I retired to my rooms for the night, and she came knocking not long after. I was unsure of myself, but I let her in anyway. She said she was there to spend the night with me, a gift from the President himself. I told her at once that she wasn’t obligated, that she didn’t have to stay if she wasn’t truly willing, but she was insistent, putting her hands all over me as she told me that she was tired of fucking old men. I warned her that I wouldn’t be much of a partner, given my inexperience, but she said that was no matter.

“She taught me much that night. All of the ways a man can fuck a woman, what to do with my hands and my mouth… She probably enjoyed the sex more than I did that first night, but I tried my best to please her.”

“I’m sure you did just fine,” you tell your husband, unable to fathom him being a bad fuck. “Did you see her again after that?”

“Yes, but only for the remainder of my stay.”

You pause, hesitant to hear the answer to this next question. “… Did you care for her? Or any of the others?”

Kylo says nothing for a moment, rearranging in his lap so that you two may look at one another a bit better. His face is set, expression serious as he cradles your cheek delicately in his palm. “I always treated my partners with respect, but none of them ever meant anything to me, not really.”

For just a moment there, in the chill of the hangar, you feel safe enough to lay bare one of the soft spots on your heart. “Do I mean something to you?” you whisper, too afraid to ask any louder than that.

“You are my wife,” Kylo replies, caressing your skin. You kiss your husband then, heart bursting at this quiet, almost unspoken admission of his love for you.

The two of you retire to bed not long after that, walking hand in hand back to your quarters. Kylo lets you hold him so tightly that night, falling asleep with his face pressed against your chest. You breathe in the scent of his hair as you nod off, warm and content.

---

Palgodu is just entering its winter months, the air nipping at your exposed face and ears as you walk up the steps of the royal castle. Snow hasn’t fallen yet, thankfully, but you step lightly anyway, not wanting to graze over an icy patch and go tumbling. Kylo is by your side, of course, shrouded in a black as per usual. He keeps you close, probably trying to warm you up himself even though you’re draped in furs and thick fabrics. The two of your take in the great castle before you together, noting the fine stonework and carpentry. It’s a sturdy building, built no doubt to keep warmth in and invaders out. Guards are lined up all along the front of the place, armed to the teeth. They may be there for you and Kylo’s benefit, a welcoming party of sorts, but you doubt it. If your planet just ended a civil war, you’d keep yourself covered on all sides as well.

King Eli awaits you and Kylo as soon as you enter the castle, grinning broadly as he welcomes the both of you to his home. The first thing you notice about the King is his size, for he is tall and wide, made exclusively of thick slabs of muscle. He would be imposing with his full beard and beastly hands, you think, if his demeanor were not so warm.

You and Kylo amble through a corridor just off the castle’s entrance hall, following in the King’s wake. You pass many tapestries along the way, precious pieces of handiwork that seem to depict the history of Palgodu. They turn your head, these works of art, and you find yourself studying them intently until you’re shown into a small receiving room at the end of the hall.

The first thing you feel when you lay eyes on the Queen Eleanor is envy. Before she even so much as speaks, you’re plagued with it, the jealousy you feel so white-hot in your veins that you’re afraid your skin will glow from the heat. She is heavy with child, the Queen, her stomach round and swollen underneath the skirt of her gown. To make matters worse, the bundle of blankets that she clutches to her chest is squirming, confirming that she already has a little one out here in the world as well. And then a young girl dashes out from the corner of the room, giggling as she evades being picked up by her nurse, and you feel as though you might actually burst into tears.

It’s idiotic, you know, to be jealous of a woman simply because she has children, but you can’t help the way your mind rages at the sight of Queen Eleanor and all the bounty of her womb. She has so much of what you want, so much of what you’re worried you’ll never be able to have. Still, it’s impossible to hate her for long— the Queen, like her husband, is just far too kind.

She welcomes you with open arms, beaming as she declares that she feels as if the both of you already know each other. And you sort of do, you suppose, given how much you’ve communicated these past few weeks. Like you, Queen Eleanor handles her regime’s charitable efforts, and you’ve spoken at length over comm about donations and food and a myriad of other subjects. She’s practical and a bit headstrong, passionate about protecting those who rely on her and her husband for help.

“I apologize for not meeting you right when you arrived,” Eleanor says to you. “The baby needed to eat, and Maudie is always so restless when she’s forced to stand still.”

Finally, you snap out of you sad little trance, remembering where you are and what you’re doing. “Oh please, don’t be sorry,” you reply, waving her off with a gesture and a sweet little laugh.

Though your feeling of envy pass quickly, the sudden burst of intense emotion does leave you feeling disoriented. The rest of the afternoon is mostly a blur, and you barely feel like you’re there as you and Kylo dress for dinner. You must put up a good front though, because neither Miriam nor Kylo says anything as about your demeanor as they interact with you.

Dinner consists of a large feast, and you’re grateful for the crowd around the table. There’s much talking and laughing, and you’re able to shrink back into the noise, more content with observing rather than participating tonight. You do feel a bit better though, fortified by your warm meal and a few sips of wine. And of course, Queen Eleanor continues to be a lovely friend, trying to rope you into conversations regarding the upcoming charity gala that the two of you have worked so hard on.

Just as you’re digging into your dessert, however, you feel it, that round, aching pain that most women know all too well. Your good mood evaporates immediately, overtaken by an empty sort of melancholy that’s even more painful than the cramping in your abdomen. Keenly aware of your audience (and the fact that you’re wearing black), you try desperately not to let your emotions show on your face. And stars does that take all you have, the task made even more arduous by the fact that your husband sits beside you. You don’t want him to perceive the shift in your mood, so you must guard your thoughts more closely than ever before.

Mercifully, your mask never slips, your defenses do not fail, and you’re able to excuse yourself from the table with ease. In a surprising turn of events, Kylo actually accepts King Eli’s invitation to play cards, and watching your husband walk away from you is perhaps the biggest relief of all in this moment.

The walk back to your chambers is relatively short, but your limbs are so heavy as you make the journey. Miriam is there waiting for you, but you have no heart to perform for her, stumbling into the ‘fresher with little more than a weary ‘hello’. When you check , your underwear are stained, just as you suspected. And though you already knew what happened the moment you felt your stomach cramp up at the table, this confirmation of your worst fear makes you breakdown completely.

Cleaning yourself up sloppily, you leave the ‘fresher with tears in your eyes, startled to find Miriam there in the doorway when you try to go back to the bedroom. She’s poised to get you whatever you may need, mouth already forming the words, “What can I do for you?” when the two of you lock eyes. You don’t know why you do it, but you collapse into Miriam’s arms right there, offering no explanation for your actions as you dissolve into sobs.

“What’s the matter?” you attendant asks quickly, supporting your weight as you sag against her. Miriam’s hands are on your back, in your hair, rubbing and petting and trying in vain to soothe you.

You draw back from Miriam’s chest, hiccupping pathetically. “I started my period,” you tell her, and the fact that you sound like a distraught twelve-year-old girl is not lost on you in the moment.

Miriam looks confused for a moment, asking, “Did you—?” But then her face dissolves into a look of sympathetic understanding, and she puts her arms around you again. “Oh. Oh, my lady.”

You beg for a bath, unable to do anything else as your attendant holds you close. Miriam does as you ask, letting the hot water run as she unlaces your gown and lets down your hair. Trying to be useful, you take off your jewelry on your own, but even this small task feels insurmountable in the midst of your breakdown.

The heat of your bathwater feels like a warm hug against your skin, but not even this serves to soothe your aching heart. Drawing your knees up to your chest, you curl in on yourself, choking on your own tears and sniffles. Miriam allows you to have a moment, sitting patiently by the bathtub as you settle yourself. Finally, she speaks.

“What’s the matter?” she asks softly, reaching out to stroke your hair again. You don’t brush her off, though your tone is less than charitable.

“I already told you,” you reply curtly, hugging your legs closer.

Miriam maintains her composure, speaking gently. “I know. But I have a feeling that this is about something more than a bit of blood in your underwear, Empress.”

Swallowing thickly, you contemplate whether or not you want to get into all of this right now. But Miriam is your only resource, really, the only older woman in your life that may be able to offer you a bit of advice.

“I just want to be pregnant,” you finally croak, voice raw from crying for so long. Miriam sighs at that, nodding solemnly.

“I know, my lady,” she says companionably, still carding her fingers through your hair. “Has the Supreme Leader said something to you? Gotten angry or expressed his dissatisfaction?”

“No,” you say quickly, moving to sit up now. Your head pounds, clogged with congestion from all your crying. “It’s… it’s the Queen.”

Miriam starts at that, eyes ablaze, her tone indignant. “Queen Eleanor said something to you?”

You can’t help but laugh then, touched by your attendant’s defense of you. “No,” you say, any joy you experienced just now dissipating. “She’s a lovely person, it’s just… It’s just her children. She has so many, and I—”

“And you have none,” Miriam cuts softly, finishing your sentence for you. You nod, chewing on your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“I just don’t understand it,” you declare, utterly bewildered. Miriam lathers up a rag, washing your body as she listens to you talk. “Kylo and I have sex nearly every night it feels like. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!”

“It’s not about what you’re doing,” Miriam soothes, rinsing you with her hands. “Sometimes these things just take time, that’s all.”

You throw a look Miriam’s way, eyebrows raised. “It only takes once.”

Miriam laughs a bit at that, nodding. “Yes,” she concedes, “technically once is enough. But that’s not the case for everyone.”

That makes you sigh, mostly because you know she’s right. Still, you can’t help but feel betrayed by your body, by your womb.

“Have I ever told you about the first woman I ever served?” Miriam asks, redirecting your attention away from your thoughts.

“No.”

“She was a senator’s wife,” your attendant begins, pouring shampoo into her hand now, “and she was desperate to get pregnant from the moment she got married. Like you, though, it didn’t happen for her right away, and she became rather upset. She began doing anything she could to conceive after a few months, drinking these disgusting teas, standing on her head after she and her husband had sex— just all sorts of nonsense. But after a year, she still had no child. Doctors assured her that she wasn’t barren, but of course she thought otherwise.

“After a lot of crying and wasting away in her bed, my mistress decided to just put the whole thing out of her mind. It destroyed her to do so, but she decided that perhaps she wasn’t supposed to be a mother. But do you know what happened after she quit fixating on the idea of getting pregnant?”

“She got pregnant,” you answer, already seeing where Miriam’s going with this story. She nods, confirming that you’re correct.

“That’s right. She went on to have another three children after she had that first baby, and they were all healthy and beautiful.” Miriam hooks her fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at her. “The same way yours will be. But you must relax, Empress. If you fester in this desire to bear a child, the stress will prevent you from getting the very thing you want so badly.”

You want to argue, to say that you aren’t working yourself up into a frenzy about having a baby, but that’s simply not the truth. You think of conceiving each and every time you and Kylo make love, you pray and yearn and hope as you as you wash him off your body. You even dream of it sometimes, giving birth, and not all of the things you see in your head are pleasant.

“Just enjoy being with your husband,” Miriam advises, almost as if she can read your mind. “If you relax and allow yourself to let go when the two of you make love, a baby will come quickly. I promise.”

You desperately want to believe you attendant, but your own anxiety forces you to remain unconvinced. Still, you’re grateful for the reassurance, figuring that everything will be brighter in the morning.

Kylo comes back from his card game not an hour after you get out of the tub, kissing you soundly as he grumbles about drunken aristocrat and a particularly poor hand that came his way during the event. You almost tell him about your little episode but ultimately refrain from doing so, figuring that it’s not worth the trouble. Still, your husband is intuitive as ever, asking you if everything’s all right as the two of you retire to bed.

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” you tell him, more than happy to snuggle down under his arm.

Kylo doesn’t press the matter, though you’re not sure he believes you. But he holds you close anyway, shielding you from the chill of the room.

That night, you dream that you’re running all through the Supremacy, chasing after a small child that giggles and squeals as they continuously evade your grasp. It’s frustrating, for they always seem to be just ahead of you, just around the corner or already running down the next hall over.

Just as you get close enough to grab the back of the child’s shirt, you wake up.

#kylo ren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren reader #ame #my writing #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #cw: pregnancy #cw: menstruation #tw: pregnancy #tw: menstruation

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firepiplup · 3 years ago

Text

How do i say no to people

You know that analogy about people with adhd having spoons for energy management or whatever? My spoons are on backorder from like 2 months ago and more got on that list now

The problem is that all of the things I'm being asked to do are Very Important Things

I have to feed my diabetic cat. This in itself is not a problem, however she's needs to eat at a specific time (12 hour spacing) and my current sleeping situation along with work do not allow this to happen consistently. Currently trying for 7:30, we'll see how it goes

My apartment has bedbugs, and there's no way in fucking hell I'm sleeping on my living room floor until my scumlord landlord actually gets the guy to come back to spray because he did spray but I'm still seeing adults and i "need to give the spray time to work" it's been fucking 2 weeks i don't know how is supposed to work but i feel like after 2 weeks whatever spray you did isn't going to get any stronger i just want to sleep in my own bed it's been like this since fucking March

With that part explained, I'm sleeping at my mom's house on the other side of town. This in itself isn't much of a problem, however as "payment" i have to take care of her dog in the morning, to practice because she's going on a week long vacation in October and none of her dogs can just be taken care of like normal dogs. He needs to wear a diaper to leave the room while i pick up his shit and soiled weewee pad and mop the floor, give him some time to be out of his room, and then feed him his special food mix. The other dog has allergies and probably will get into something he shouldn't, then not use the bathroom outside even though he literally has a doggy door that has constant access to the backyard. Neither dog get along with each other, which is why they are separated. Thank fuck the cat is just normal, this is why i prefer them

Now with THAT explained, it's difficult to take care of my own cat on time in the morning. But as the legendary Billy Mays says: But wait, there's more!

I just got rehired at my job working in a local understaffed pizzeria. My friend, ego also works there, is on vacation (good for her, she deserves it, absolutely no negativity towards her) so i have acquired her hours. So i now work 6 days a week, kinda sorta clopen but i guess it's more of opelose. Or a combination of both? Idk. The point here is, I'm then dealing with essentially running half a restaurant alone 6 days a week, with it not being 7 purely because the owner himself ALSO has the same work schedule as far as I'm aware, and wanted to give himself a day off, and since we are so understaffed it would be impossible unless we literally closed. My tasks include answering the phone, washing dishes, making sandwiches, making dinners, folding pizza boxes, and cleaning the tables/equipment on that side of the restaurant. So essentially everything except making pizzas, cleaning the pizza area, mopping in general, and driving. We generally close at 9, 10 on Friday and Saturday. Guess who was explicitly rehired to close those days? Guess how that's going to work with me having to be home around 7:30 to take care of my own cat? I have no idea either. It's only for about 3 weeks, but my mom, whom i have not asked for any additional help with anything, won't feed the cat while i have work, even though there isn't a guarantee that i can leave on time to THEN RETURN to close, because again I'm the only one on that side of the building. I understand the fear of the bedbugs, so that's probably it, but it still fucking sucks because the kitchen is on the other side of the apartment from the bedroom and there is literally no reason to go there to feed her. But i get it

Did we get to where i can do my own ADLs? Of course not. My neighbor is in the hospital, and her husband is blind. This is a new development that was only discovered an hour before starting this post (about 3:30 am for me). She's ok, it's for mental health reasons, and that's her own business about that. Her husband being blind is not a new development however. And he needs help taking care of the pets, specifically the birds. Which is fine, they just also need to eat on their own schedule. 8am, around lunchtime, and 8pm. Guess who's still at work? One of the birds is special needs because her beak got injured and needs to be essentially spoon fed. Which the blind husband can't do at all. Fairly simple task, but just adding to my obligations that are Very Important because they involve making sure things don't starve to death while my neighbor is in Crisis

Ok let's see, that's 4 Very Important Tasks/Obligations, and only one was originally my own voluntary one. Still not at taking care of myself yet, but i have my shelter, i have my job ("part time" minimum wage, hurray. Part time because even with me being there 6 fucking days a week open to close it still isn't technically enough hours for the state to recognize it as full time), and I'm taking care of *counting* about 8 pets for the next week. Will unemployment give me my money that I've been claiming since March? No? Will they let me claim with my new working hours that makes that while process even harder? Technically but it'll take over an hour for it to process and it doesn't even do that in the end? Well fuck, guess i have to wait to get paid on the books in cash and beg for a hand written paystub and have my hours worked written down. Glad i earned $100 this week, i hope now that my hours have increased i get some more

Next on the list, appointments. Because I'm a dumbass who can't remember shit if it isn't consistently recurring, i overbooked myself for next week. My much needed therapy appointment with my therapist that I've only met once and is the replacement for my much better therapist that i actually had a relationship with is supposed to have a session with me on Tuesday. Will i remember to do it this time? Possibly since i actually remembered it's on Tuesday. Will she send me the reminder text with the zoom link? Probably not. Wednesday, my one day off, thank fuck for that, is the main problem with the scheduling. My med appointment is for 11:30. Cool, can do. Driving lesson at 12. Oh, that's a little close, but i can manage that probably. I only average 1 lesson per year and a half, so it's fine, it's "healthy" to be nervous about operating a death machine powered by explosions. Have to go to social services to pick up, or attempt to, a new food stamps card. They probably close at 5, and add a Non Driver, i need to rely on someone to take me. The sooner the better, but it can't be during the lesson. Don't forget to take care of the creatures before and during all of this.

Ok. Great. There's an hour before work. Time to shower, because it's so fucking hot I'll be sweating like crazy by the time i get around the corner to the pizzeria, with me literally getting out and dressed and then walking out the door. Glad i finally did still to take care of myself. Eating? I might have something i can heat up quickly while the cat eats and so i can take my own meds. Dishes? Those are going to have to wait, i hope the heat wave doesn't get too bad, but it's been like this for a while, still slowly chipping away at them. Sleep? Severe insomnia. I partially blame the bed, my mattress is so comfortable, i hope the bedbugs like it because i can't fucking use it right now. I'd be sleeping so fucking soundly if i were in my own bed, and yet here i am. Maybe i should take the Trazodone now. I just hope I'll wake up on time. Oh look I'm exhausted, can't afford to buy comparatively better prepared coffee from Dunkin, so i guess my shitty at home coffee is going to have to do. Black because i don't have any creamer or milk or lactose free milk in my house. Just the way i hate it. Gonna have to deal with that i guess, maybe I'll learn to like it

The coffee pot lives in my fridge now. I'm worried to put it with the other dishes because if it sits there, not being washed like everything else, then i won't even have the option of coffee. It's just water and ground up beans, I'm sure it's fine

Maybe i can find some kind of coping skill/hobby to help me through my limited me time. Let's see.... I like to crochet, and that helps me get through the dishes by letting me alternate between them and a row/round on one of my many started projects. What? It's in a giant garbage bag with a bedbug treatment stick because of the damn ass bedbugs? Can't open it for at least another week and even then there isn't a place to put the yarn safely? Well fuck. I found that really helpful with keeping me grounded. Umm, well looking online, i should *checks notes* buy new yarn in the meantime and keep it somewhere safe. Uh, well, i can't afford more yarn now and i have nowhere to put it. Videogames it is maybe? Oh fuck now I've hyper focused too long on pokemon, rhythm heaven, and whatever daily games i do, i think i have 5 of those of varying lengths of time spent on them

Did i remember to brush my teeth? No. Do i remember that i should and then when i get out of the shower so i forget to actually execute? Yes. Have i gone insane? Probably

How many spoons is a person supposed to have per day? It takes more for me just to get through the day in general. Why does everyone need me to do their Very Important Tasks? Why is there never anyone else? Can my neighbor just not buy more birds when she gets home from Crisis?

I just want to have good mental health, why is this so hard

#adhd #autistic adult #bedbugs #pizza #cats #birds #diabetes #anxiety #rant #exhaustion #dogs #work #spoons

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hopes4gf · 4 years ago

Text

Wings of Fire (A MHA Fanfic): The Storm

The day consists of quirk trials where we test the lengths our quirks can go. I stand over a canister of gasoline and light the canister with my flames. The flames appear blue to the eye, unlike Shoto’s which is red. I focus my eyes on the flame, watching it swish and move as my eyes narrow. I focus on the center of it and watch it grow. Then, I try the opposite, making it shrink until there’s only ash.

A crowd forms behind me.

”Woah! That was awesome. I’ve never seen fire look like that,” A girl with a long dark ponytail says behind me.

”It’s a gene thing,” I say, starting to feel the heat.

I hyperventilate as I feel myself start to sweat.

”Are those the side effects?” She asks.

”Yeah. I-I start to sweat profusely. But my ice softens it,” I say using my other hand to cool down, placing it across my neck.

”You wouldn’t last a day with me, hot stuff. With me there’s no cool down,” Bakugo taunts.

”And what makes you think I’m interested in you or your quirk?” I ask.

”Nitroglycerin and sweat create naturally from my skin, that’s what makes my explosions work,” Bakugo says, putting out his hands to show off his palm explosions.

”Aww little fireworks, how cute for someone with such a big ego,” I say, rolling my eyes.

”Shut up, woman!” Bakugo says stubbornly.

”Bite me,” I say through gritted teeth.

I roll my eyes and return to my training before I realize that the girl is still standing next to me.

”Fascinated, huh?” I ask.

”Oh! I just...I wish I had such a cool mix of quirks,” She says shyly.

”What is your quirk?” I ask.

She hesitates.

”I- I can create things...through my chest. As long as I eat enough food, I can sprout anything out of my chest,” She says.

”That’ll sure be a hit with the boys. And plus you’re a nice looking girl,” I say confidently.

”You think so?” She asks.

”Sure, I mean your pretty and you’ve been nice to me so far. Why not?” I say.

”That means a lot coming from someone so beautiful,” She says.

I stop in my tracks.

”That's the first time I’ve ever heard that,” I laugh.

”You’ve never been called beautiful?” She asks.

”Nope,” I say.

”Not even by your dad? You know, when you go out on a date or if you’re going to dinner?” She asks.

I huff and think of my memories of my father.

”My dad was never kind to me. He doesn’t know what emotions are like. He’s cold-hearted even for a hero with a fire quirk. If you ask me, he’s an asshole. If you ask everyone else, he’s a saint,” I say honestly.

”I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me. I shouldn’t have gotten so personal,” She says nervously.

”It’s fine. The names Aki by the way,” I say.

”Momo Yaoyozuru,” Momo introduces.

”What a name! Can I just call you Momo-chan?” I ask.

”Sure!” Momo agrees.

We take a break for lunch and I pop in my headphones when I grab my lunch. I get a couple of spring rolls, some honey butter chips and a Dr. Pepper. I take my tray and scan the room for somewhere to sit. The group from class sits together all except Bakugo, who is no where to be found.

I shrug and I take my lunch and search for a place to eat.

I find an empty classroom and I sit in the back hopping on the back table.

I much on my spring rolls, looking out the window to think.

So many different quirks, so many different characters, meanwhile everyone idolizes me. What did I do to deserve all this? This praise and attention is nothing like at home. The world has no idea what I’ve been through. I just don’t know why.

Suddenly, the classroom door opens.

”What the hell are you doing here?” Bakugo says, revealing himself.

I roll my eyes and take off my headphones, hopping off the table.

”I figured your little goons didn’t want me around. Shouldn’t you be with them?” I ask.

”You think I’d really hang with those losers? Pfft, no way. They’d rather stick to your kind of crowd,” Bakugo scoffs.

”‘My kind of crowd’? The hell does that mean?” I ask.

”You think you’re so slick, huh? I know you put up a front to make yourself look good just because you're a big old celebrity,” Bakugo says, stepping towards me.

”I don’t have to make myself look good for anyone. And for your information, I’m not a celebrity, I’m not hot stuff, and I’m certainly not a loser. Now, let me eat my damn lunch,” I spit back at him.

His eyes widen softly at my words. Then he tsks, looking away and blushing.

”Whatever. I’m leaving,” Bakugo says.

”Actually...I kind of like your company,” I say.

Bakugo raises a brow, and a smirk appears on his face.

”Oh really now? Have you changed your mind about me?” Bakugo asks slyly.

“Not sure yet, I thought I was a loser to you,” I say.

”You tease,” Bakugo scoffs through his smirk.

”See ya later, hot stuff,” Bakugo says with a wink.

”Oh shut up, you angry Pomeranian,” I say with a smile.

”Oi! Don’t call me that,” Bakugo says.

”Okay then, ‘suki,” I say, making up a cute nickname to tick him off.

”First name basis huh? Kinda cute coming from those lips of yours,” He flirts.

”It was fucking joke, ditto,” I say returning to my usual tone.

Bakugo’s smirk fades and he exits the room, leaving me alone once again.

——————————————

I wait for Shoto at the front of the school to walk home.

He appears soon with that same concerned look on his face.

”You okay?” I ask.

”Yeah, dad just told me that he won’t be home until later tonight. There’s a situation with some villains in Kyushu, he wants be there before All Might does,” Shoto explains.

”Speaking of All Might, he looks just about worn out. That’s probably why dad’s taking advantage that he’s here at UA,” I comment.

”Hey, Todoroki-chan!” Mina calls, waving to me from the other side of the gate.

”Hi, Ashido-chan,” I wave back.

”Why didn’t you sit with us at lunch today?” Sero asks.

”I got a little caught up with registration, you know. Getting some paperwork filled out,” I lie.

I peak a glance at Bakugo who stands beside Kirishima, staring with that familiar glare.

”Anyways, these knuckle-heads were just doing what they do, so you didn’t miss much,” Kirishima explains.

”Catch you tomorrow?” Mina asks.

”Sure!” I say, before returning to Shoto’s side.

”First day and you're already making friends with the class clowns?” Shoto asks.

”What’d you expect? They’re fun. Everything can’t be serious all the time, and plus we’re going to be together for the next three years,” I say.

”We have a lot at stake though. Just try not to embarrass yourself too much,” Shoto says.

”So this is what this is about. Me embarrassing our family? Our family was embarrassed by our own actions the minute Touya left. And the minute Dad decided to start ‘training you’ and the minute mom gave you that scar,” I scoff.

”That’s not what I meant, Aki,” Shoto says.

”So then what did you mean?” I ask.

”I’m trying to protect you from yourself. You can be reckless sometimes. I don’t want you making a fool of yourself with dad’s eyes on you. I’m just trying to help you prove to dad that your capable of these responsibilities,” Shoto explains.

”If I’m capable of doing these responsibilities, I don’t need help doing them. The one has to prove that to dad is me. You already made a mark in his book, that’s for sure,” I scoff.

Shoto lets out a sigh and we walk to the train station together.

”Welcome home twins! How was your dad at school!” Fuyumi shouts from the kitchen as she cooks.

”It was okay,” Shoto says calmly.

”It was great! I made some friends our teacher’s...interesting,” I say honestly, switching to my house shoes.

”Well, I guess that’s hero school for you! I mean I can personally say that being a teacher is hard, I mean-“

”Here we go again,” Shoto and I say at once, rolling our eyes.

Fuyumi goes on a familiar ramble about her being a teacher and me and Shoto continue our routine. Eating our pre-dinner snacks.

I sit on the couch by Natsu, who’s focused on his game of Overwatch.

”What’s up, Aki?” The college student says.

”Nothing much. You get any serious kills?” I ask.

”I got a quadruple kill at the beginning of the game. By the way, did you switch mains? I saw you had more game time with Widow than Sombra on your account,” Natsu says.

I slap his arm and he flinched from the pain.

”Why’d you look through my account?” I yell.

”Aki, stop hitting your brother!” Fuyumi says from the kitchen.

”Sorry Fuyumi,” Me and Natsu say in unison.

I huff at Natsu and he refocuses on his game, stealing a pocky stick from my package.

”H-Hey!” I exclaim.

Natsu laughs as he munched on the snack while moving the joysticks and pressing the buttons on his controller.

”You wanna play a match?” Natsu asks.

I nod and snatch the controller from him.

Me and Natsu go back and forth playing rounds, while eating snacks.

”Aki, go wash up. Dinner’s almost ready,” Fuyumi reminds.

”Sure,” I say, handing the controller back to Natsu.

I drag my feet behind he walking the long halls of our home to the stairs towards the bathroom. I turn on the shower and turn it to the hot water. The bathroom starts to fill with steam and I inhale it, making my tense muscles relax.

The best part of my day...where I get to unwind and wash off the negative energy.

Later, I throw on a baggy t-shirt and some shorts and head to the dinner table.

”Aki, you got a letter from Mom,” Shoto reminds me, handing me a white envelope.

I take the letter and put it to the side.

Fuyumi gives me my plate of food and we all start to eat.

”Shoto, did you make any friends?” Fuyumi asks.

”A couple,” Shoto says shyly.

”That’s great! It’s good to have a couple friends when going into high school,” Fuyumi says.

”Sure, but it can get real competitive. There’s this one guy that I’m holding out for though,” I say.

”You mean, he peeks your interest? Romantically?” Fuyumi asks.

Shoto practically spits out his own food from laughing.

”No! I mean, he flirts with me but he’s a total jackass. A total bully,” I say rolling my eyes.

”Maybe it’ll be like one of those romance mangas where the bad boy softens up with the good girl,” Natsu comments.

Him and Shoto laugh at the situation.

”You think I’m the good girl? That’s more suited for any of the other girls at UA. But certainly not me,” I scoff.

“She‘s got a point. Her comedic timing overpowers his egotistical comments. I would know because I’m a witness to it,” Shoto says.

”See?” I nod.

”Como sea (whatever it is), I think you should start looking for a boyfriend, you're coming of age and your gonna be sixteen in January,” Fuyumi says.

”Ayy, la cumpleañera,” Natsu says jokingly, rubbing my head like a small child.

”I get it! Anyways, I’m not so worried about that though. I’m just trying to focus on my studies right now,” I say.

“If you wanted to focus you’d be sitting at the front of class with me and not joking around with that group in the back,” Shoto comments.

”Loosen up, bro! You think I want to be cracking joke 24-7? The work is all that matters to me and if I make friends or even get a boyfriend along the way, fine by me. The thing that’s important to me is making you all proud,” I say to my siblings.

They all give me a small smile before continuing back to our dinner.

The next day, we are assigned to go to the support classes and request hero costumes for our training. I walk with Momo towards the support class.

"Hey guys, I'm Mei Hatsume! I'm essentially in charge of the support class and I'll be helping you with some of my babies!" A girl with pink hair and steampunk clothes says.

"Babies?!" we all exclaim.

"My projects, silly," Mei says.

We wipe sweat from our brows and move into the workshop.

"So, what kind of costume are you getting? I mean.. since your quirk doesn't allow much...leeway," I say, looking glancing down at her chest.

"Even Todoroki-chan is intimidated," Denki says, standing next to Mineta, a short kid with grapes for hair.

"Don't make me scold you, Kaminari," I scoff, catching his dialogue.

Denki blushes furiously and Mineta laughs at him.

"You're gonna get scolded by the pretty girl!" Mineta teases.

I turn back to Yaoyozuru and roll my eyes.

"Well, I was thinking of something that is a little more fitted since my quirk comes from...my chest. But I might need something that's similar to Midnight's," Momo explains shyly.

"You mean something provocative?" Mina asks, sneaking behind her.

"Shh! The boys will get ideas," Momo scolds, hushing the alien girl down.

"I need a strong material that doesn't break through my acid," Mina says.

"I need a costume that weighs me down," Uraraka says, joining the conversation.

"Because of your quirk?" I ask her.

"I can make things float! It seems weird but when I activate my floating, I lose control sometimes, so I need something to weigh me down a bit," Uraraka explains.

"Actually, that's kinda cool!" Asui, a girl with long green hair and a frog quirk says, also joining.

"I wish I had such a cool quirk," A voice says.

We all turn and see Hagakure, the invisible hero standing behind us.

"What do you mean? Your invisible! That's the most practical quirk," Jiro says.

"I think Todoroki-chan's quirk is awesome! She can control fire and ice," Momo says.

The girls turn to me with wonder in their eyes.

"That's so freaking cool!" Mina says.

"That's like having two quirks," Uraraka says.

"Sort of. But it's kind of hard to balance. I'm not effected by my ice quirk but if I use my fire quirk too often, I pass out," I explain, scratching my neck nervously.

"So you'll need something that distributes both quirks evenly," Mei says, barging in.

"Yeah, you could say that," I say nervously.

"I would say that since your quirk comes from your hands, that some metal wrist plates would regulate the temperatures of your quirk so you don't overheat. Where else do you think you might need plating?" Mei asks.

"My waist, it gets sore when I switch back and forth," I say.

"Hmm, how about a metal corset? Regulates your temperature, form fitting, not too tight, and since the cold doesn't bother you, you'd be nice and loose. the most it'll be is a bit heavy, so are you good with carrying weight?" Mei suggests.

"Yeah, sure I am," I say confidently.

"Nice, then underneath we can just have a loose and airy sheen fabric. Let's say, almost a mini-dress. I think perriwinkle would look best on you," Mei says, jotting it down in her journal.

"My fire is blue, so that fits," I say with a giggle.

"Woah!" The girl exclaim.

"Great! I'll have some of my assistants work on that! It's not too complicated unlike the boys's costumes," Mei comments.

I give her a smile before she turns to the other girls.

"Say, Aki. You think you could score me date with your brother, he's kinda hot for a 15 year old," Mina jokes.

"Jeez, Ashido," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"What, he's a good-looking guy," Mina says.

"He is kinda cute, and he's sweet too," Momo says.

"And how would you know that?" I ask her.

"First of all, I sit next to him in class, second I listen to his conversations from time to time, and thirdly he gave me his number," Momo says confidently.

"My shy ass brother gave you his number?" I ask, shocked from her words.

"Yeah, I don't know why but he seems a little interested," Momo says shyly.

My eyes widen from her words. I can hardly believe that Shoto would even want a girlfriend, being so busy with his focus on his hero work. As days go by, I can hardly recognize my brother, my father's influence on him starting to shine on him as he interacts with our classmates and gains tasks. I can practically see the gears in his head turning as he thinks to himself. But to think he'd want a relationship? That's odd indeed.

"Good luck with that one, he won't say much. And if he does, call me for advice," I say to Momo.

"Yeah, sure. I mean you are his twin," Momo giggles.

The bell rings for lunch and we all go to cafeteria.

As I pick up my lunch, I glance behind me and see the groups sitting together.

I grab my usual lunch, and walk to the familiar classroom with my headphones in.

I open the door and immediately rip my headphones off my ears.

Bakugo sits on the table in the back of the classroom, waiting for me.

"I knew you'd come back here," Bakugo says slyly.

"Leave me alone, Bakugo," I scoff.

"What happened to that cute nickname you gave me? And don't say your sick of me, cause you and I both know you wouldn't be here if you were at least interested in me," Bakugo asks, recalling the last time we were together.

"God, you're such an idiot. I could care less about whether or not your interested in me. All I said was I liked your company. It didn't have to go farther than that," I say, grabbing a spring roll.

"Fine, why do you even come in here anyways?" Bakugo asks out of boredom.

"To think, get away from people like you, process things," I say.

"But thought-"

"Yeah, I do like your company but don't you think your ego gets a little bigger around other people?" I ask.

"Sure, but it's a competitive school. And when your trying to prove your the best, competition is your number one enemy, people who'll try to drag your ass into the pits of hell," Bakugo says, honestly but harshly.

"You're starting to sound like my father," I comment.

"Endeavor? That old man can rot in hell too. He's a good for nothing piece of shit if you ask me," Bakugo adds.

His comment peeks my interest.

"You don't like Endeavor, huh?" I ask.

"Hell no. No offence by the way," Bakugo says.

"I didn't read you as the type to apologize but it's all good. If anything I have more reason to hate him too," I say snarkily.

"But he's your dad," Bakugo says, trying to justify my opinion.

"Yeah, and a shitty one too. But you don't need to know the details...at least not yet," I say, taking a sip of my drink.

"Spill it, Todoroki," Bakugo orders.

"I said...not yet," I bite back.

"Whatever, fucking tease," Bakugo tsks.

"Angry pomeranian," I tsk.

"Stop calling me that!" Bakugo exclaims.

"Whatever, your hairs' spikey and you're blond, so to me you look like a pomeranian," I comment.

"And to me, you're a refrigerated hot Cheeto," Bakugo adds.

"At least I'm tasty," I wink.

Bakugo growls and mutters under his breath at my comment.

"What? You never had a girl talk back to you before?" I ask.

"No," He mutters.

"Well then, I guess that serves me as the first girl who's ever had to put up with your ass," I say snarkily.

Bakugo stands up and pins me to the table.

"Listen, woman. I'm tired of this little act, are you scared of me? Intimidated? Is that why you keep treating me like I'm a kid?" Bakugo growls.

"You're cute when you're angry," I say through a smirk.

Bakugo rolls his eyes.

"I'm not scared of you, I just think you've never had your buttons pushed because you think everything in life is gonna get handed to you," I say honestly.

"Says the daughter of the number two hero," Bakugo snarls.

"Says the boy who hasn't even had a girlfriend yet. I don't know what they fed you back in middle school, but you won't get a single girl with that narcissistic mindset," I say.

'And what? You gonna straighten me out? Teach me to be soft and shit?" Bakugo says.

'I didn't say that. What I mean is, if you wanna talk to me, your gonna have to grow some balls first," I spit.

Bakugo starts to make small explosions from his palms but before he can do anything I freeze the table completely. I slip out from under him.

"Oi! Where the hell do you think you're going? You're not gonna leave me here!" Bakugo yells.

"Yes I am," I say turning to him with a smile, before closing door of the classroom and walking towards the cafeteria.

I spot the group and Mina waves to me.

"Finally!" Mina exclaims, pulling a chair out for me.

I sit with the group and can faintly hear the loud scream of Bakugo from the halls.

I smirk to myself and join the group's conversation.

#bnha bakugou #bnha #bnha shoto todoroki #bnha oc #bnha fanfiction #bnha manga spoilers #bnha hawks #wingsoffire

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ma-sulevin · 5 years ago

Photo

I really have nothing to say for myself.

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Female Deputy Rating: E Warnings: Canon-typical violence, but nothing particularly explicit I don’t think Word Count: 6576, chapter eight of fourteen (I think).

Read it on AO3 instead and say nice things.

---

Boomer finds her before anyone else does. He flops right down by her side and heaves a great sigh, like he knows what she’s gone through and he’s tired of it too, and she lets her bare feet soak in the water of Clagett Bay while she pets his belly.

It’s peaceful, sitting in the quiet and listening to the birds singing and the occasional splash of a fish rising too close to the surface to get a bug, and if she was any other person sitting here under any other circumstances, she’d be able to relax.

But she’s not — she’s Mattie Covington, ex-EMT, junior deputy, would-be savior of Hope County, and she’s fucking furious.

She’s smoked through most of her cigarettes by the time Sharky shows up with Hurk at his side, feeling jittery and nauseated and fit to fucking burst. Sharky’s hopping out of the Jeep before it’s really parked, jogging over to her on his long legs while she stubs out her cigarette on the dock and hauls herself to her feet.

He wraps her up in a hug that first knocks her back a step and then lifts her off her feet, a hug so tight she can’t breathe but doesn’t care because she hadn’t realized how much she missed the lingering scent of sweat and kerosene until she has her face buried in the collar of his hoodie. She gasps out a sob, clenches her teeth to hold it back, unwilling to start crying now when they have so much more to do.

When Sharky finally puts her down, he only puts enough space between them to cup her jaw in his big hands. His eyes — blue like the Seeds’ but so much kinder, full of so much more warmth and love — scour her face like he can figure out everything she’s been through just by taking stock of the bruises, and then he kisses her right in the center of her forehead and she has to fight back the tears all over again.

“You good, chica?”

She shrugs a little. “I’m all in one piece.” It’s about all she can say at this point. She’s alive and uninjured beyond bruises and sore muscles, but she’s hungry and tired and so pissed she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s practically vibrating with it.

“C’mon now, don’t hog the deputy!” Hurk appears in Mattie’s line of vision, bouncing off to Sharky’s side. “It’s my turn for a hug!”

Sharky glances over his shoulder at him then gives Mattie a searching look before he lets her go. He steps aside and lets her walk past him, arms up to hug Hurk around the neck. He hugs her back with as much enthusiasm as he does everything else, squeezing hard enough to crack her back as he lifts her off her feet too. He shakes her a little, makes her laugh, then puts her down.

“You damn near gave me’n Sharky a heart attack!” He says, loud, like any of this is under her control. “You can’t be letting Jacob’s guys get to you like that. A person’s brain can only handle being washed so many times before it gets all soggy!”

That’s not what she was expecting him to say, not even a little, and all the annoyance in her whooshes out in a burst of laughter that surprises all three of them. Boomer yips and jumps up to put his front paws on her chest, knocking her back until Sharky catches her with his hands on her shoulders and starts to laugh too.

She wipes her eyes as she catches her breath. “You’ll just have to help me bring him down, then. Think we can handle it?”

Hurk beams at her and rests his hands on his hips. “Oh, absolutely. I’m ready to go. What’s the plan, boss?”

She doesn't know. But she knows who does.

---

Eli’s suggestion for breaking down Jacob’s hold on the mountain is not that dissimilar to what Dutch told her to do in the valley: burn it to the ground. He gives her all the information they have about the cult’s activities in the Whitetails, the outposts and the supply lines and the wolf beacons, marking each one for her on a park map liberated from the Visitor’s Center.

Wheaty asks her to find him more music stashed throughout the mountains, in people’s cabins and in their bunkers, and she agrees with a laugh. He’s a cute kid and he doesn’t deserve to see all this shit happening around him. If he wants records to play over a Whitetail Militia radio station, then he’s going to get records to play over a Whitetail Militia radio station even if it kills her in the process (and, she knows, it probably will).

Jude asks about Staci again, eyes red-rimmed, and they cry together when Mattie says he’s still locked up. Jude doesn’t need to know the exact details. Staci’s doing what he can, and what he wants to tell Jude when Mattie finally gets him out of there is his business.

And she’s definitely going to get him out of there, no matter how many times she dies on the way.

Sharky is forbidden from using his flamethrower in the mountains with the woods so dry, and he pouts about it for as long as it takes him to come up with a plan to do as much damage as he can otherwise. He cheers up when Mattie promises he can use explosives on the wolf beacons, backing up her promise at the first one they find just south of the den.

The sound and sight of the explosion, and the peggie fight they get into afterwards, is worth it to see Sharky’s delighted cheer and little dance. These are the things she has to focus on if she doesn’t want to completely fucking lose it.

She can’t rescue Staci if she completely fucking loses it.

They find records here and there, and Mattie dutifully piles them up in the back of the Jeep. There are dozens, albums and artists she’s never heard of but that Hurk and Sharky occasionally recognize. Her music knowledge contains a huge blind spot from growing up in such a conservative place — basically everything before she became an EMT is a big empty space.

She doesn’t mention this to the boys.

She just lets them have their fun.

They don’t hear anything from Jacob again until after they take back the PIN-K0 radar station, blowing up several of his helicopters and leaving them to burn on the surrounding mountainside. Eli cheers her on over the radio, praising her, saying people are joining the Whitetails in greater numbers now that she’s out here giving them hope (“Actions speak louder than words!” he says, and she listens silently as she washes peggie blood off her face in the PIN-K0 bathroom), and as soon as he’s done encouraging her, Jacob takes his turn.

His voice is low over the radio, gravely, and she grimaces while she stands there listening. She crosses her arms and leans against the skin with her hip, turning the volume down so there’s less chance of Sharky or Hurk overhearing whatever the fuck is about to come out of Jacob Seed’s mouth.

“The human brain is a fascinating thing,” he says, tone so fuckin’ casual like they’re having this conversation over lunch. “Once you start poking around in there, it’s surprising what you get it to do under the right circumstances. You’re familiar with the term ‘classical conditioning,’ right, Deputy?” He doesn’t wait for a response, and why would he? He doesn’t care. This is about intimidation, not about having a real conversation with her. “It’s when a conditioned stimulus, say a song, leads to a reflective response. In this case… to train, to kill, to sacrifice.”

Well… okay. That’s fucking forboding. She tries not to think about what he’s training her for, but there are honestly only so many things. If he doesn’t want her at his side like he’s got Staci, then…

“You managed to escape for a little bit, but whenever I want, I can have you back here with me. But you’ve got time to play your little games; I’ll let you know when it’s time to come home. Only you…”

She wants to gag when he sings the first two words of that goddamn song, but she fights the impulse, swallowing hard as her mouth begins to water a bit.

Eli said she’d been de-conditioned, but just hearing him say those words… Maybe she can get Wheaty to de-condition her again when she takes him all the records. He’ll probably do anything for her once he gets his hands on all these new albums.

Jacob doesn’t say anything else, and she doesn’t say anything back.

He doesn’t really want to hear what she has to say. He’s only interested in conditioning her for whatever he’s got planned and making her talk to Joseph to hear his fucking shitty life story.

She takes the radio with her and goes back to find Sharky and Hurk, who are already drinking while they wait for Eli’s boys to come take over the station. She joins them, drinking more slowly, and watches as they pass out in a snoring pile.

She kisses Sharky’s forehead and brushes his messy hair away from his face, heart twisting when he smiles and murmurs her name in his sleep.

She’s just sitting on the side of the road when Jacob’s men come for her again. There’s no reason to put the boys in jeopardy this time.

---

She’s thoroughly unsurprised when she wakes up in Jacob’s cages, her brain fogged from who knows how many doses of bliss and her stomach sticking to her spine from hunger. Jacob’s methods have always been achingly simple: bliss, starvation, and dehydration, then the godawful simulation where she has to kill other captives and militia members alike (which unfortunately means more bliss).

She cannot wait to kill him.

She manages to turn her head to the side despite the aching, and the guy who was in her here with her last time is still here. He’s dead, and a wolf is gnawing on his leg, trying to pull him close enough to the bars to make a real meal out of him. She’s not scared or surprised, just jealous that the wolf gets to eat and she doesn’t.

She stares back up at the sky through the top of the cage and sighs.

If she’s awake now, she just has to wait until Jacob decides to show up.

He’s goddamn lucky she’s too hungry to fucking move. She wants to gouge his eyes out with her bare hands, maybe feed them to the wolves he keeps, maybe give them to Joseph as a present.

Is that too on the nose for Joseph, given his history of gouging people’s eyes out? Will he appreciate the stylistic choice?

She’s still thinking about this, staring up at the ice-blue sky, when she hears Staci’s quiet voice from near her feet. She pushes herself up onto her elbows, sweat breaking out on her forehead at the effort, and watches as he reaches between the bars with one hand to put a metal bowl full of… dog food? Undercooked ground beef? Something she’d normally never think of eating on the floor in front of her.

He gives her a wild look when she doesn’t move right away, pushing it forward once toward her.

She tries to remember what she’s seen on Naked and Afraid — a human body can go twenty-one days without food, but she doesn’t think it’s been quite that long. If she catches something from the food, that’ll dehydrate her, and she’s not keen on trying to fight off food poisoning or a parasite in the middle of Jacob’s camp.

He’s as likely to just dump her ass out in the woods as anything else if she gets sick, probably tell her that if she was strong enough she wouldn’t have gotten sick, like this is another one of his fucking Darwinian tests.

Staci’s not having it. “Eat!” he hisses, voice so low that no one in the other cages will be able to hear. He looks like shit, worse than she thinks she probably looks, and the rage she felt at Jacob a moment ago comes back full force. She uses it to push herself up and forward, aiming at grabbing Staci before he moves away from the bars, but he scurries back and stands up out of her reach.

“Staci, come—” she cuts herself off, snapping her teeth together when he shakes his head at her and assumes the same position he was in the last time she saw him, hands clasped together, shoulders back, head bowed. Jacob’s behind him, smirking, strutting up like he has all the time in the world like a goddamn fucking asshole.

This close, she can smell the meat, and her mouth waters again. She gives in and grabs a handful, intent on eating what she can before Jacob moves the rest of the way in and announces whatever he has planned for her.

She needs the strength, food poisoning be damned. Staying alive is more important.

She doesn’t know how much time she’ll get back if she does die, if the black white black will dump her back moments before death like usual or back to this point to eat the stupid food, or if starving to death instead of getting shot or strangled or stabbed or exploded will mean she’ll actually have to stay dead.

She doesn’t know the rules, but she’s not permanently dying because she thought she was too good to eat the food presented to her when shit got rough.

Half of it’s gone when Jacob sits down in front of the cage and fucking smirks at her.

“Seven days,” Jacob says, his voice the same cold drawl that always comes over the radio. “You must be hun gry .”

She glares at him and doesn’t respond.

Staci looks from her to Jacob and back again, hands clasped so hard his knuckles are white, then he takes a breath and moves to stand by Jacob’s side. Mattie keeps her eyes on him as she listens to Jacob’s monologue, watching as he picks up a knife and studies it before bringing the edge of it to Jacob’s neck.

Slit his throat, she wants to say, tries to tell him with her eyes, but he doesn’t look at her.

“Did you know it takes ten days for civilization to collapse? Yup. You take away a man’s basic needs and he’ll revert to his primordial instincts in just ten days. It’s a difficult thing to understand unless you’ve lived it,” he adds, and Mattie wants to spit at him. What the fuck does he think she’s been doing?

“I was in Iraq during the first Gulf War,” he says, ignoring the dry scrape of Staci’s blade across his throat. “82nd Airborne, All-Americans, hoo-rah. One night, there was an ambush. Me’n this guy named Miller got separated from the unit, no food, no radio. Nearest base… two hundred klicks to the south, so we just start walkin’.”

Staci finishes tidying Jacob’s beard and goes to stand behind him again, hands clasped in front, head down. Mattie watches him instead of Jacob, doesn’t care whatever the fuck Jacob’s up to by telling her his sad fuckin’ backstory, just cares about how she’s going to get herself and Staci out of here at the same time.

“Well, by the third day I knew we were lost. Day six… ran out of water. You know what that’s like, don’tcha? Difficult to swallow.”

She does snap her gaze to him when he takes a long swig of water from a canteen and then spits it out just in front of her cage. Her lips are so dry she’s afraid they’re going to be permanently cracked, and he’s just spitting water for shits and giggles as part of his ongoing psychological torture experiment.

He might be the worst Seed.

“On the seventh day, Miller’s legs started going all wonky.” He moves in his chair to face her more directly, like he’s excited to tell this part of the story and wants to make sure she’s really paying attention. “Did ya know your brain starts to eat your muscles in order to survive?” He chuckles, looks her up and down once in a way she absolutely does not fucking care for, and adds, “That’s why you’re so goddamn skinny.”

She bares her teeth to him, and he smiles right back.

“And by the eighth day, the wolves were closing in, and I looked at Miller and I could tell we’re as good as dead. And I accepted that. And in that acceptance… came clarity. You see, I wasn’t just looking at Miller.” He stands, reaching through the bars of the cage to grab the front of her shirt, twisting and pulling as he goes to haul her to her feet. “I was looking at an opportunity. It wasn’t something I wanted… it was something that I had to do. It was… it was my test. Now you see, Miller’s sacrifice wasn’t about me walking out of that desert—”

Here, Staci hands Jacob the music box. He doesn’t look at Mattie when he does it, even though she sends him a look of outraged betrayal. How could he? Right now? While she’s trying to help him?

Jacob starts to wind the box as he talks, and she steps away, covering her ears with her hands. She can barely hear Jacob’s words, the growling of the wolf next to her. “It was about bringing me here. The weak have their purpose. You’ll understand that soon enough.”

He opens the music box, and she falls unconscious.

There was bliss in the meat.

---

“Wake up, wake up! Open your eyes!”

She does, obedient still, bliss just faded out of her system enough for her to be able to force her body back to consciousness. She aches all over, her muscles, her stomach, her lips, her scalp…

The phantom hotel comes back to her, the one she fought through before, the one she fought through again. Jacob’s voice praising her as she killed stranger after stranger, Staci yelling for her to kill, to hunt, to sacrifice.

“Wake up! Rook!”

Staci’s here, now, frantic whispers and hushed voice unlike how he was before. She rolls onto her front, forces herself up onto her hands and knees, then up to her feet as Staci pulls something out of his pocket and holds it up.

“I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?” She just stares, silent. Is this a trap? Why now? “And we’re gonna get out of here, okay? Only you. Only you.”

Oh, Staci. Oh, Staci.

Even with what she’s lived through, she can’t imagine what Jacob’s done to him.

He’s finding his strength, fighting back, saving her life and saving his even though she came here to help him. She’s too tired to keep the tears from her eyes, just lets them well and spill over silently as Staci unlocks her cage and snaps at another man who wants to escape.

“You have to get out of here before it starts again. ” He sounds desperate, wild, almost feral, and she wipes at her face with dirty hands and nods at him, still silent, still obedient.

He tells her to follow him, and she does, winding through the compound without speaking another word to each other. She watches the way he walks, shoulders still hunched, eyes constantly scanning for people, watching to make sure he has everything right and they can really escape this time.

She thought Jacob broke him, but Staci was just biding his time.

She brushes away more tears as they walk into a building through a back door, pausing long enough for Staci to lock it back behind them so they won’t be followed, then up rickety stairs into an inner room.

Jacob’s room.

Mattie pushes the door shut behind her and Staci grabs her shoulders to stop her, to pull her attention to him.

“He knows you’re ready,” he says. “To do it. Look.” He pulls her to the closest desk, taps a picture of Eli right on the forehead. “The trials. See?” He pulls her to a map on the wall, covered with annotations, red string, pictures of Whitetail members. “He’s got it all planned out. He mimes holding a shotgun, gestures as he starts to talk faster and faster, “One, two, three. One two three. Onetwothree then he’s got you. It becomes second nature. Routine. He gets in your head. And you don’t even realize it.”

She shakes her head at him and he grabs her shoulders again. He shakes her, not hard, just enough to drive his point home. “You can’t go back, you understand?”

He tries to walk away and she follows him, stumbling over her own feet when he turns back and raises his voice. “You can’t ever go back!” Another tear slips free and he holds up a hand, a placating gesture that does little to calm her nerves. “Come on. The truck’s gotta be there, gotta get on the truck.”

He hands her a duffel bag, and she takes it, not sure what’s happening.

“It’s almost time.” He tugs her again, pulls her out onto a balcony overlooking the front drive of the compound, holds her elbow as he says, “I studied the route for weeks.”

She believes him. He’s had weeks to study it.

There’s a truck sitting across the circular drive, someone sitting patiently in the front seat.

It’s their escape. It’s so close she can taste it, taste the freedom. She’ll be able to get Staci back to Jude, back to Joey, back to Earl and safety.

“It’s the only way out. You’ll be safe if you don’t—”

Far off cries cut him short, and he turns. Cold sweat breaks out over her body, dread seeping through every pore.

They know she’s gone.

Only one person would have let her out.

They’re coming.

“No, no, no, no, NO! Not yet, not yet!” Alarms blare, lights start to flash, the truck below them starts to move. Staci’s panicking, his plan unraveling, and she doesn’t know what to do or even what the plan was to start.

“Staci,” she croaks, voice so hoarse she barely makes any noise. “Staci?”

He doesn’t sound like he hears her, murmuring a heartfelt fuck as he tugs at his hair.

Only you… can make the world seem bright…

Her vision starts to flash red, pricks of white light floating around the edges, and she tries to reach for him, but he’s screaming and covering his ears.

It’s like he snaps out of it completely when her fingertips brush his elbow.

He stands up straight, arms by his side, and he stares at her, head cocked to the side. He says, simply, “Sorry,” and then pushes her off the balcony.

She falls without even a scream, unafraid but still trying to pull him with her, and hits the back of the leaving truck hard enough to go unconscious.

At least the song can’t reach her here.

---

She’s not sure how long she’s been unconscious, but it’s daytime, and when she rolls to stand she falls off the top of the truck and knocks her shoulder out of socket. She howls through gritted teeth, pushes herself upright while she holds her useless left arm with her right hand.

Her radio squawks alive from the duffle still looped around her shoulders.

“Deputy, you copy? It’s Eli. I dunno where you’ve gone and disappeared to, but shit, we really kicked the hornet’s nest. I know you’re probably out there trying to get your friend Pratt back, but us Whitetails could still use a hand. Anyways. You know where to find us. Talk soon. Over and out.”

His voice disappears in a burst of static, and she kicks a nearby rock in a fit of impotent rage.

Staci said she can’t go back, but she can’t stay away. She can’t kill Jacob without their help, can’t get him to come out of the Veteran’s Center to get him away from his men without their support. Saving Staci and stopping the cult’s activities here all hinges on killing Jacob Seed.

She kicks the rock again and sets out walking along the center of the road towards the Wolf’s Den, still cradling her left arm.

---

Sharky meets her down the hill from the militia hideout, hat missing and face grim. He skids to a stop in front of her, but she just keeps going until she bumps into his chest and leans her entire weight against him, trusting him to hold her up. He does, arms around her back and chin on top of her head. She ignores the lingering pain and nuzzles her face into his chest, inhaling to get his scent deep into her lungs.

“Jacob gotcha?” Sharky’s voice is a whisper, or as close to a whisper as he ever gets, and she nods against his chest. His arms tighten around her, jostling her bad shoulder. She whines but doesn’t pull away, doesn’t tell him what the problem is because she doesn’t want him to push her back.

“Last time, I woke up in Boshaw Manor. This time, Hurky and I woke up at the radar station still, hungover’n cold, and you weren’t anywhere we could find you.” She tucks her face harder against his chest as he continues carefully, like he’s choosing each word before he says it instead of spitting them all out like he usually does. “We looked… all over the mountain for you, talked to that girl who runs the bait shop now, and the guy at the FANG Center, and Jess, and I like her’n all, but she’s scary sometimes…” He cuts himself off and she feels him sigh before he starts again. “How did Jacob manage to get you without hurting the rest of us?”

Silence stretches between them, Sharky holding out longer than she’d have guessed was possible before she makes herself answer.

“I just… I knew he was coming for me, so I just went out and had a smoke after you fell asleep.”

Another long, long pause.

“So he would have an easier time kidnapping you?”

“So you wouldn’t get hurt.” She does pull away then, standing up straight and taking a half-step back so she can see him. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, lines around his eyes deepening the longer she watches him. “Sharky, I—”

“I can’t get hurt,” he says, cutting her off, voice getting louder. She tries to shush him, but he keeps going, talking over her: “We could’ve stopped them from taking you! You didn’t have to give up!”

“I didn’t give up, Sharky! I was just trying to keep you safe.”

“You let them take you away from me!”

“They were going to take me anyway! They have every other time! I just saved you having to drive back over here from the Henbane!” She’s too tired for this, and tears pool in her eyes once more, spilling over and wetting her cheeks.

“Shit, Mat, I wanna keep you safe too. You understand?” She nods, miserable. “You think I felt safer runnin’ around the mountain looking for you?”

She shakes her head, miserable. “I’m sorry.”

He heaves a heavy sigh, reaches out with both hands to wipe at her tears. She leans into the touch, sniffling, and follows him when he says, “C’mon, let’s get your arm looked at.”

Inside the Wolf’s Den, Eli pops her shoulder back into socket for her, grimacing sympathetically when she suddenly bursts into tears at the feeling. He leaves her alone with Tylenol and Sharky and permission to use the Den’s showers, and then he makes himself scarce.

By the time she’s taken her medicine and emerged clean from the shower, Sharky’s smiling again, argument apparently forgotten. She curls up against his chest and goes to sleep, exhausted down to her very bones.

She doesn’t know what else to do.

---

They spend two more days in the Wolf’s Den, radios off, letting Mattie gain her strength back. She sleeps more than she has since the helicopter crash, waking up every now and then to find Sharky and cuddle up against him once more. He sits, patient and vibrating with energy, combing his fingers through her hair until she finally wakes up to eat.

They make love quietly the morning before they leave, murmured words of love and apology passed from kiss to kiss with each breath. He moves inside her with slow thrusts while she clings to his shoulders, legs locked around the back of his thighs, muffling their moans with lips pressed tight together.

She comes near silent, just a gasp of Shaky’s name in his ear, and he follows her, burying a moan into the side of her neck as he spills fruitlessly into his condom.

They dress quietly, check their weapons and ammunition before moving to find Eli. They find Wheaty first, who pushes through a face red enough to let her know they weren’t as quiet as they thought to ask for more vinyl if they find it, and then they find Eli who points to more things on their map for them to take care of, someone at the old Grandview that needs to be rescued.

It’s really never ending.

They leave without an argument.

---

Jess finds them again near the hotel, announces her presence by shooting a rabbit as it tries to run across the path in front of Mattie and disappear into the underbrush. Mattie freezes when the rabbit falls dead, then turns and glares behind her as Jess emerges from the tree line with a grin.

“Well, fuck you, too,” Mattie greets.

Jess snickers. “You had Sharky all worked up while you was gone. I thought you could use a good scare.”

Mattie grimaces, then gives Jess a light punch to the arm. If she was anyone else, she’d give her a hug. “Comin’ with?”

“Yep.” Jess picks up the rabbit and pulls her arrow free. “Figured you could use the help.”

“Thanks, man!” Sharky says, sounding as cheerful as ever.

She cocks her head and looks up at him from under her hood. “You got your flamethrowin’ license, Sharky?”

He beams at her, absolutely grins with all his teeth showing, and Mattie’s already muffling her laugh when he says, “I don’t need one.”

Jess looks from Sharky to Mattie, who nods with a shrug, still laughing because this is so far out of her control and the opposite of what she thought her life in Hope County would be like, and then she looks back at Sharky and deadpans, “Well that’s fucken terrifying.”

Sharky booms with laughter, and the girls join him. The sound attracts something from nearby, the underbrush rustling in a way that makes Mattie pull her handgun up in case it’s one of those white wolves, and then Boomer leaps out from behind the nearest tree onto the they’re on and spins in an excited circle.

“Oh, there’s my boy!” Mattie holsters her gun again and reaches for Boomer with both hands. He jumps up to put muddy front paws on her chest and licks her face while she laughs and scratches behind his ears.

Behind her, Sharky makes a vague noise of disgust. “You know dogs spend most of the day licking their own assholes, right?”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t do the same if you could.” She glances over her shoulder at him and winks as he splutters and then bursts into laughter again, grinning and shooting a wink at Jess who looks like she isn’t sure whether she should laugh or be disgusted too. She settles on a sigh and a little chuckle, and Mattie considers the joke a success.

With their little group now twice as large, it takes them a few more minutes to get settled into a plan, but they agree to take the Grandview back the same way they took the Elk Jaw Lodge. It’s a solid plan, one that’s proven to work, and they walk the rest of the way there with as much silence as they can possibly manage.

(It’s not much silence. Sharky chatters and Jess sends back sarcastic comments while Mattie tries to muffle her laughter. It’s a wonder Jacob’s men don’t intercept them on the way to the hotel.)

The place is crawling with peggies even before they get there, and they spend a good thirty minutes scouting the place out before even making plans. Mattie watches the guards through her binoculars, checks out the stacks of materials waiting outside, tries to figure out the best way to get in without anyone getting hurt.

Just because they always start over again doesn’t mean it’s pleasant.

She wants to avoid that gun wrenching pain of seeing Sharky bleeding out. If she never feels that kind of anguish again, it’ll be too soon.

She leaves Jess covering the outside of the building, picking off stray peggies, and sneaks into the hotel with her pistol in her hand. She plays the world’s worst game of hide and seek with the cultists inside, sneaking around behind their backs, hiding behind furniture, ducking behind open doors and holding her breath when cultists get too close.

The man she was sent to find is tied to a chair on the third floor, unguarded, surrounded by a sound system set up to play one of Jacob’s lessons over and over while the same images she remembers from her first kidnapping session play on a loop. There’s blood dripping down his face from his eyes and his ears, and seeing him there makes a chill go down her spine, nausea roll in her stomach.

This is where Eli and Wheaty found her.

This is what they were doing to her.

She switches the tape he was being forced to listen to with the one Wheaty gave her, and the soothing sounds of metal music blast through the hotel’s sound system.

She turns the volume up.

Fuck the peggies.

The lyrics of “Get Free” echo around the property, and she can’t hear over it to see where anyone else is. She lowers herself to a crouch and tries to go out the way she came, but a peggie literally trips over her as they try to walk through the same door at the same time.

His steel-toed boot makes solid contact with her calf and they both fall, but she recovers faster, spinning to put herself on top of him before he can use his size against her. She pulls a knife free of her boot and shoves it straight through the soft part of his throat and rips it out again. He gurgles, eyes wide and blood spewing from the wound and his mouth to splash against her face, but she can’t even bring herself to care.

She stabs him again to put an end to his misery, wipes her blade on his shirt, and tucks it back in its place.

Once she makes it to the second floor, she can hear the peggies scrambling, shrieking at each other to be heard over the music, and she uses their distraction to start picking them off one by one.

Eli’s voice comes over her radio and she has to duck behind a couch and hold the receiver up to her ear to hear him warning her more peggies are coming from the lake with boats and helicopters.

They really don’t want her to take this hotel from them, but they’re shit out of luck.

Whatever hell she’s trapped in means they have absolutely no way of winning.

I’m gonna get free, I’m gonna get free, I’m gonna--

She’s exhausted to the point of shaking by the time the last peggie sniper is dead and Eli radios back to let her know his men are coming to get Briggs. She hasn’t fully recovered from her last trip to Jacob’s compound, her body protesting the abuse by threatening to shut down no matter what’s happening around her, with cold sweat dripping into her eyes and bile at the back of her throat.

Sharky spots her first as soon as she steps out of the tree line back into the Grandview’s parking lot, thrusts his shotgun into Jess’ surprised hands so he can jog over and catch Mattie when the vertigo makes her too weak to stand up. She falls forward into his embrace, and he scoops her up like she weighs nothing.

Maybe Jacob’s right and she is too goddamn skinny.

The thought makes her giggle, then she can’t stop, nearly delirious as Sharky carries her inside and sets her down on a couch that’s covered in dust and blood. He starts pawing at her face and torso, checking for wounds as she squeezes her eyes closed and tries to force herself to stop laughing.

“This ain’t funny,” he snaps, voice tense and gruff.

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” Mattie tries to protest but he doesn’t listen, and when she opens her eyes to give him a reassuring smile Jess is standing almost directly above her looking right down at her too.

Eli’s voice comes back over the radio, praising her even as Jess and Sharky try to figure out whether she’s actually injured or not. She manages to wave them off and grabs for her radio again, the world not spinning so fast now that she’s horizontal.

“You know, you proved everyone wrong, Dep, everyone except me. Always knew you were the real deal. I’ll see you back at the Den, soldier. Take care.”

Mattie’s just pushing the talk button down to say she needs some time before they can make it back when she hears the tell-tale thwap of an arrow flying by and finding its mark. Jess drops from Mattie’s field of vision with a silent cry, mouth open and eyes unseeing as a peggie arrow ends her life as unceremoniously as Mattie has ended every peggie’s life so far.

Mattie opens her mouth to scream for Sharky, but he’s already starting to pull Mattie from the couch to shield her body with his. She lets him manipulate her the way he wants, even though she knows it’s useless. She wraps her arms around him and presses a kiss to his cheek as more arrows sail through open windows and hit the couch, the wall behind them, and finally his shoulder.

She tries to yank it free, more worried about the bliss on the tip than any blood loss that will follow its removal, but he goes limp over her. Her body runs cold again, reacting even though she knows he’ll likely wake up in the hotel with a headache and anger at the peggies, and she bites her tongue until she feels blood to keep herself from screaming.

They should have just run.

An arrow hits her shoulder as she starts to shimmy out from under Sharky’s body, and she makes it halfway out before unconsciousness claims her.

#sharky boshaw #sharky x deputy #far cry 5 #oc: mattie covington #my writing

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brightsun-and-darkmidnight · 5 years ago

Text

Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder

TITLE: Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 33 / ?

AUTHOR: brightsun-and-dark midnight

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki falling in love with a Midgardian and his words to Thor about Jane during Dark World coming back to haunt him. “It would be a heartbeat. You would never be ready.”

RATING: M for Mature

NOTES/WARNINGS: ~▪︎~FOR THE WHOLE STORY~▪︎~

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Check Masterlist. It's going to be a long read. I try to keep each chapter around 3,000 words.

My Ao3: brightsun_and_darkmidnight

!-!TRIGGER WARNING(S)!-!

So many triggers, read ALL of them!

Swearing. Angst. Death. Depression. Violence. Self-harm. Regret. Carelessness for safety. Doubts. Torture. NSFW. Smut. Fluff. And Of Course- Mischief.

Summary: Everyone needs to get used to the new schedule and Alicia has heartbreaking news for Loki.

~ ~ ENJOY ~ ~

Loki moved the food tray away from Alicia when she started to fall asleep.

Emma took her spot at the head of the bed with her hands to Alicia's temples.

Hassiba stood quickly and went out the door.

Loki watched as Alicia's body started to jerk and her breath became ragged. Before Loki was at Alicia's side nurses ran into the room and Hassiba gently pulled Loki to the far corner of the room.

Hassiba held onto Loki's arm. "Let them do their jobs. Alicia will be fine."

Her glowing eyes gave him comfort in the knowledge she seen further ahead than anyone in the room. Hassiba smiled at Loki and he gave her a nod.

Loki watched as Alicia's body became still and the healers relaxed. Emma was still at Alicia's head.

Loki felt a pat on his arm and then Hassiba asked for chairs. Loki helped the elderly woman sit down and then stood and watched Alicia's body lay still.

"Have a seat with me. Don't protest, I will get my way sooner or later." Hassiba gave him a sweet motherly smile.

Loki pressed his lips together as he stared towards Emma who was still going strong with guiding the visions.

"Move the chair beside me you silly boy."

Loki breathed slowly to try to calm his racing heart but moved the chair to sit with the wise witch. He couldn't help the questions racing in his mind...If this was the reaction to Alicia's visions in her dreams he was not sure his heart could handle it. What was she seeing that made her body react that way? What was her worst vision?

Hassiba asked the extra nurse for some tea and crackers. "They make really good tea here."

Loki glanced at the elder. "Not like Alicia's but it is good."

"I do not recall ever seeing you on edge for one person. Her tea must be amazing."

Loki shifted more comfortably in his seat.

Hassiba chuckled, "I heard you proposed to her. She is going to be your once in a lifetime, the love for all your existence, and I think she is a very wise choice." Hassiba thanked the nurse once a tray set for two with tea necessities and crackers. "Drink some tea, it will calm that stomach of yours."

Loki made a cup for himself and took a sip to satisfy the elder, knowing she was ahead of every protest. He wondered if Alicia would be forced to use her present visions to see like Hassiba and if she would be all knowing like Hassiba.

Loki observed the bright eyes that were clouded over pupils. "Was it hard to get used to using present visions to see?"

"At first." Hassiba took another bite of cracker dipped in tea. "I eventually decided being ahead of everyone is not so bad." She leaned close to whisper, "I am very good at board games now."

Loki was able to smile and whispered back, "your secret is safe with me."

Hassiba laughed.

Alicia was asleep for only an hour before she woke with sweat glistening across her body.

Emma definitely looked like she had better days. She had dark bags under her eyes and she could barely keep herself standing so the other nurses helped her to the bed Loki and Hassiba had prepared for Emma to rest in.

Hassiba patted Loki's arm before going to Alicia. He stood back to give everyone room but made sure to be closer to Alicia's bed.

Hassiba took the notebook and sat on Alicia's bed. "Ok dear. Let's talk about those visions."

Alicia was still tired but she explained how the first dreams dealt with Marcibeth and how she felt her body react.

"I went to the place they had my father. In order for him to be safe I exchanged myself… Marcibeth was there and left with him… I seen Loki and then an explosion, just like the visions I drew. I woke in a healing room, also like the vision I drew." Alicie rubbed her temples due to a headache. "I seen Luit and Edward in custody. Then I found Marcibeth, she was injured and then Luit was there. Marcibeth didn't make it."

Hassiba hummed as she wrote down the notes. "My dear. It sounds like that ring your sister gave you is giving your magic issues. The enchantment does not let you use magic against her and it seems to be giving you issues even in your visions." Hassiba flipped the page. "Anymore you can tell me?"

Alicia tried to blink back tears. "Well not much. Everything after Marcibeth is a blur. I still saw space and also a large silhouette. It has to Bifrost related."

Hassiba's eerie eyes searched Alicia's. "Well dear did you feel threatened?"

Alicia's eyebrows scrunched in thought as she glanced at the familiar posture of Loki. "To a point."

"Alright dear. Well the Bifrost still has a while before being completed, so I guess we have time before this, large figure, gets involved." Hassiba smiled as she closed her notebook. "I will be around. Let Emma rest for a while, she needs to get used to a new schedule." The elder rose to her feet slowly.

Alicia nodded as she made the bed rise so she sat up. "Will there be a time when Emma doesn't need to look in my dreams?"

"Maybe but with the way your body reacts to some of your visions. I am going to say not for a long time." Hassiba spoke as she held Alicia's hand, "Loki why has this ring been left on her?"

Loki stood next to Alicia and glared at the ring. "The enchantment stays in effect until the item is removed. Due to knowing Luit does get to Alicia everyone decided keeping the ring on is the best option."

The old witch hummed in thought. "It is a clever trap." She cupped Alicia's hand in both of hers, "it is your sister who gave you this safety from others but she is hurting you in the process."

Alicia was tempted to take her hand from the woman's grasp but left it as she explained. "Marcibeth has a unique way of making me stronger."

"I know Dear." Hassiba gave a little tap to her hand before letting go. "It is your choice to remove that ring. For now, go relax in the bath."

Alicia felt the sweat still pouring out of her. "That sounds like a good idea."

Alicia moved to get up and Loki helped her into the wheelchair.

Loki left no room to argue with the tone he used. "You need to rest."

At Alicia's huff Hassiba laughed as she said her goodbye.

Alicia looked upwards to Loki while he pushed her into the bathroom. She felt her head get dizzy from the odd way she held her neck. She groaned. "I hate this."

Loki excused the nurses after the bath water was ready.

Loki had to peal the gown off of Alicia. "Its a new system. New schedules for everyone and with your visions in your dreams you will not feel rested. Easy Love."

Alicia let Loki steady her from a near fall. "I feel useless. Like a burden to everyone."

Loki gently picked her up and set her in the tub. "You are no such thing. While things changed it does not mean you are a hindrance to anyone." Loki let Alicia sit in the huge bath with bubbles. "Visions in dreams are the hardest to cope with. Your mind will never get a real moment to relax."

Alicia let her head back onto the pillow with a sigh. The bubbles popping in protest of her movement. Alicia loved the moment of silence when Loki paused. It was heavenly and peaceful. Her mind went blank for a moment due to little stimulus.

Alicia soaked in the tub for a long time then washed herself.

Alicia stood while Loki helped her out of the bath and wrapped a large towel around her.

"Do you feel better?"

Alicia sighed as she dried herself off. "Yeah. Thank you for letting me relax."

Loki stated, "You relaxed instantly as soon as it was quiet."

It was silent again but Alicia's mind was occupied with Christmas.

"Loki… I know we decided on giving the kids money but could we do Christmas shopping today?"

"Of course. It would probably be best to put in the orders today so they get here." Loki gave her a smile. "I already have Christmas taken care of. They are going to be here for dinner. I gave the recipes to the cooks. Everyone can relax."

Alicia smiled with happy tears. "Thank you so much."

During their shopping Alicia gave Loki control of many things. Alicia insisted on mainly learning stuff and Loki got a few fun things. It was fun to shop for gifts for little children. Susan and Michael got a relaxation package at a spa, an appointment with the Kitten Master for new clothes, as well as a date night with a little "coupon book" to watch the kids for varying times.

Alicia smiled at the receipts for everything. "I think they are really going to like all of this stuff."

Loki agreed. "I think so too."

Up until Christmas day everyone tried to get used to their new schedules

Hassiba closed her notebook then smiled sweetly at Alicia. "Dear, do not worry so much. Worry means you have to deal with things more than once. This time your vision said your sister lives."

Alicia glared at her hands. "This one time. This one version."

"Things will work out. No matter what you must go through."

Alicia grumbled, "You talk so positively."

"Years of being pessimistic taught me how to see the good. 4,685 years of knowledge and seeing many years ahead helped with life lessons."

Alice looked at the glowing eyes of the witch and inwardly cursed her poor eyesight because she could not see much of her other features. She grabbed her glasses off the table and felt her eyes straining to adjust to the new way of seeing. She could see drastically better but the substantial difference from blurry with little details to seeing the intricate designs on the far wall was too much. Alicia rubbed her temples and groaned.

Hassiba asked, "Why do you refuse to use present visions?"

Alicia answered annoyed with the repeated conversation, "I want to experience things the same time as everyone else."

"Ah yes. You are 10 seconds ahead of everyone. It's not so bad being ahead. It gives you extra time to think of peaceful solutions."

Alicia glanced at the eerie eyes. "How far ahead are you?"

"I choose to be a whole 2 minutes ahead now. But I have seen this all already."

Alicia yawned as she noticed Emma snoring in her own bed. At least Emma was able to walk herself a little further and tuck herself in now.

"I'm sure Loki will be here any moment to see you before breakfast." Hassiba smiled with a small laugh. "That darling boy cares so much. Years of bad interactions left him… drained but you have breathed life into him no one else could."

Alicia remained silent as the elder rambled. All Alicia could do was think of Marcibeth and how it hurt so much to dream of her. She was her sister and somehow she just doesn't make it. All because of Luit and Edward, but that didn't make sense either.

"Alright. Enjoy your breakfast. I will be here when you wake again."

Alicia forced a smile, "Thank you Hassiba. Your efforts are appreciated."

"Do not worry so much for Emma. She is strong and just as stubborn as you are." Hassiba stopped at the door and smiled to the floor before leaving.

Alicia sat and waited for Loki, resting her eyes as she did so. She felt empty and useless. How much help was she as a witch if she couldn't gather information for herself? The things dealing with Marcibeth were slowed but hurt her the most, even in her dreams Alicia felt the distress of her body.

There was little doubt Marcibeth was a descendant of Luit by now. Alicia's tests showed she was about 25% Asgardian but not of Luit. Of course the book that held Alicia's bloodline was one that failed to survive Ragnarok.

Since no one tested Marcibeth no one knew how much Asgardian she had. Everything left Alicia wondering more about her mother… Angela never showed signs of being a witch but she always drew people. Thus being one of Alicia's favorite things to draw.

Was Marcus the Asgardian? He didn't use a wide variety of magic much but he did use it more than Angela did.

There was a knock at the door and Alicia knew who it was instantly.

Alicia mumbled. "Nothing new. Well.. other than my sister survived."

"Its great news love." Loki went to Alicia's side and held her hand.

Alicia could not look at him as tears escaped her closed eyes. "I see so many things...like, having and not having a family."

Loki did his best to keep his face neutral as his heart broke.

He looked forward to the days of children. He was going to steal fries like Michael did with Justin and Emily, the day of the festival. He was going to teach his children everything and protect everyone from harm.

Alicia glanced at Loki and she croaked out an apology.

"Sorry."

Her eyes closed and the tears poured down her face and began to soak her hospital gown. Her mouth opened but nothing happened, no sound, not even a breath was heard. Her hands went to her face as she tried to hide, or contain the heart constricting breath and desperately held back cry.

Loki was already holding her at the first twitch of her lips.

"Shh. Darling. My love. Everything is going to be alright. We will be together, I will love you always. No matter what, you are the love of my life."

"You want fam.. children."

Alicia breathed heavily and Loki kept rocking her.

Alicia cried more. "And we might not."

Loki kissed her head and held her tighter, "And that will be ok. I need you. We are a team and we will figure our future out."

"We talked. Dreamed.."

Loki waited to talk because the lump in his throat grew to the point it was too painful. She wailed as she held onto him and he knew his tears were wetting her hair. He kissed a heavily drenched area of her scalp and did his best to speak but found himself struggling.

"Day by day if we need to. We will find out what will work for us. I love you and always will."

Alicia started to calm down at some point as he left her cry her sorrows away. Loki did his best to comfort her, but his heart was breaking off in larger pieces as she repeatedly apologized. Somehow he was laying in her bed as she calmed down.

She sniffed before asking. "Always?"

Loki placed a lingering kiss to her forehead, "Always."

Loki held her for a while until their breakfast arrived.

#loki #Heartbeat: A Fragile Reminder #brightsun-and-darkmidnight #check triggers #check description #chapter 33

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themockingcrows · 5 years ago

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Companionship Through Circuitry Ch. 3: Uploading

Not all uploads are created equal. Bro/Hal Also available on AO3!

Upload me, Bro.

“Don’t you need a stronger interface than that? Would you even work with that thing?”

I was designed to functionally overwrite data when necessary, and if that means re-writing the code of a simple wrecker then so be it. Upload me.

Bro sighed a bit. He had his reservations now that he was starting to get used to Hal’s voice and attitude, and the concept of potentially losing him because he didn’t want to take a lengthy detour was kind of obnoxious. But hey, what did he know, he was just a post-war guy taking directions from an AI who seemed to know his own capabilities far better. Against his better judgement, Bro took the shades off of his face and fished out the connection cable, following Hal’s advice to locate where an entry port could be positioned based on the make and model of the machinery at hand.

The massive structure was meant to replace cranes for more basic movements, the continuous track treads far superior to wheels and the mobility vastly improved. The behemoth whirred to life a few moments after Ambrose finished the upload cycle, glasses still gently dangling by their cord till he ducked forward and tucked them somewhere less conspicuous. The droid moved its appendages, orienting itself as Hal took control and sussed out the operational maneuvers for each piece. It was a strangely human motion, the sensors of the face looking down at the pincer hands before giving them a whirl and twirl, clicking them together a few times to gauge the pressure.

Right. Step back.

Thank fuck this was temporary. Hearing the modulation of Hal’s voice was jarring, booming and decidedly electric from the audio core even with its damage and residue. When he stood fully upright, many times taller than Ambrose, it was with the soft screech of abused metal and rust. This wasn’t going to last forever, but it should last long enough to move a few barriers out of the way. Hal whirred forward excitedly and clasped both pincers into the edge of a stacked vehicle long since crashed, tugging it a few times before the body gave way to motion and the entire pile began to move. Ambrose wasn’t certain what all would be beyond where they could see, but he had a feeling that getting through the blockade would open up some options.

Or, you know, trap him underground to die a horrible death. But who’s keeping track of anything, right?

With much whirring and churning metal, Hal eventually moved several wrecked cars that had acted as a barricade between them and the rest of the bridge that seemed sturdy enough to cross as far as he could see. So the asphalt was gone in a few places, the girders and skeletal aspects of the bridge were still plenty intact for a man and a pair of sunglasses to pass unhindered so long as they didn’t gain too much attention. Or at least got away from the ruckus of attention they were currently causing right now.

I changed my mind, can I stay in this longer?

“No. You cleared the junk and I can cross now, get back in the glasses so we can leave,” Bro said, already sensing where this was going.

What if there’s more junk on the other side of the bridge? Or in the center? Wouldn’t it be handy to have someone who would be able to move it easier? Hal asked, giving his hands another whirr for emphasis as if Bro could have somehow forgotten the difference between a set of pointed shades as a fully fledged wrecker droid.

“I said no. How much power does that thing have left anyways?”

Enough to enjoy getting over the bridge in style.

“And if I don’t feel like travelin’ with a gigantic fuckin’ target on my back?” Bro asked. “What then, hm? Everything in a mile prolly heard all this noise, you’re not exactly dainty with your maneuverin’.”

I believe you’d benefit more from me in this shape for a while. I’m enjoying having hands, that’s a bonus. And being able to move where I want to, Hal said as he backed up and did a quick turn as he could on the tracks. I could serve as a shield if required, or lift things to be a shield for you.

Bro ran his tongue over his teeth. The offer DID sound kind of appealing when put like that… but he knew it’d bite him in the ass just as soon, knowing his luck. He shook his head and went over towards the shades, tapping them with his fingers.

“Nope. In you go.”

But what if I just followed along behind you.

“And if we get separated how’m I supposed to get to your body then, huh? Want me to get there on my own, without you, and put somethin’ stupid in there?” Ambrose asked with a smirk. “The best body they could have created for you, the body your creator dude wanted for you, all goin’ to waste so I have someone to play Pong with.”

Hal was silent for a moment before the massive droid looked down with a creak of metal. He could practically hear him squinting.

You wouldn’t dare.

“Spoken like someone who doesn’t know me very well,” Ambrose said with a shrug, both hands lifted up for emphasis at how helpless he was in the situation overall. “You think I wouldn’t kill to have a good quality droid be my butler and play stupid games with me? Dude, my kid left for the city already, who’s gonna fill the void for me now if not that or a bitchy AI.”

The droid looked towards the bridge again, sensors trying to run how he’d normally run to assess risks before realizing the hardware just wasn’t up to spec to do what he wanted to do. This body was made for moving things, for lifting and toting, for sorting, not for detecting stealth routes a companion could take to an objective. Ever so slowly the droid bowed down and let its arms go limp, the shades chiming and beeping a short time later to alert Ambrose it was time to remove the connection and put him back on safely. While Ambrose wouldn’t say he missed having the weight on his face and the shade over his eyes, there was no denying a bit of fondness for the habit. It was nice not having his retinas toasted.

“I see my offer was too much to resist.”

You’re a bastard. I’ll not have my body sullied like that. If it does something foolish it will be because I will it to do something foolish, not any other way.

“Sure thing,” Ambrose said as he started up the bridge, pulling his blade out to keep it at the ready, grip light. He resisted the temptation to spin it or do bored tosses like he would while at home or doing detail work on it, keeping his hands ready to put lethal force behind the steel at a moments notice. The bridge itself seemed like it had been used in the past as shelter, or a lookout point. Chairs were arranged beneath a sheet metal roof with a standee wall against the side of a toppled truck, and garbage lay strewn about the broken glass that crunched beneath Bro’s boots. At every turn there could be a human being or worse.. yet all seemed quiet for now. Abandoned. Empty.

Packrat by nature, Bro took a moment to peer into different cars that they passed to see if any of them had been used as more shelter, or used to store any spare belongings that nobody would miss. There didn’t seem to be much on hand, however. Spent shells, empty cans and bottles, ragged blankets, clothes that reeked of sweat and in one car the sweet sickly smell of feces. One front seat had a few gadgets that slowed Ambrose’s steps to peek however, grinning in amusement.

“Oh, hey, I remember readin’ about these things,” he mused, reaching through broken glass to pick up a blocky hand held game system with a melted looking cartridge. The screen was cracked, but the buttons looked well worn. Must’ve taken a lot of abuse to wind up like that, those things were supposedly indestructible in their time. He dropped it back onto the seat it had come from and the bit of bones that rested here and there as well. The original owner? An art project by some bored creep? Hard to guess honestly and not really his place to wonder about.

There’s something else there, Hal pointed out, zeroing in the target t’s to direct Bro’s attention to the keychain looking item shaped like an egg. He reached again and plucked it up, rubbing a thumb over the dirty screen with a hum. A flip over and he nodded a bit.

“Some other kinda game I guess..? Looks like it’s self contained and takes a smaller battery. Doubt it’s like yours, is it?”

No, most likely that type of device ran on a watch battery. Do you not know what it is?

“Is it not a game?”

It is a game where you are tasked with keeping a small creature alive by meeting all of its needs and wants.

Bro snorted. “I’ve raised a baby, I think I can live without a game reproducin’ the experience.”

Yet.. it had been some of the best years of his life. Boiling water to make sure it was safe for Dave’s baby bath, washing hair so fine it was barely there. Messy cheeks in the high chair as he figured out how to feed himself, skinned knees and bandages, late night visitors to his bed whenever there was an electrical storm outside or when the winds screamed out over the desert like hungry dogs. Those big red eyes in the dark asking if it was safe when people came too close to their hidden home, listening to the distant explosions of deterrents and traps going off left and right. Those same red eyes staring up at him for the tenth, the hundreth, the thousandth time he’d knocked him down to make him get back up and keep fighting.

Bro swallowed hard for a moment, throat suddenly uncomfortably dry. He knew it was wrong. He knew deep down it had been too much, but there was no choice. Not when the world wouldn’t hesitate even a single second before putting a bullet in his head if he didn’t take the initiative and attack first. He could tell himself that a thousand times and yet it didn’t change anything.

Bro closed his hand around the toy and stuck it into his pocket without a second’s hesitation.

“Might make for a fun project later though. Maybe I can re-program it, give it a better battery. Somethin’ simple like a time waster to take the edge off should be easy.”

How many pet projects do you intend to keep on your person?

“As many as I feel like, considerin’ one is already on my face. What, suddenly attached to the idea of being an only child?”

I am not a child. If anything, I would prefer if you spoke to me like an adult instead of like one of your wards. Keep it in mind, Bro.

“Yes Mom.”

That is not what I meant when I sai-

“I’m kidding,” Ambrose said as he fished his hand back out of his pocket and continued to walk, suddenly less interested in browsing the potential second hand belongings than he was about getting off the bridge and continuing Northwards. He’d dallied too long as it was, and while things seemed plenty deserted up here, he didn’t want that to stop being a thing any time soon thanks to their broadcast position.

You know, I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before. But I have radio functionality, if you would enjoy to listen to something as you walk.

He snorted. “Yeah? The same ten stations, no thanks. Propaganda, interviews with dumbasses, or the same fifty songs over and over. Nobody knows how to find decent music, and the songs that’re any good get played so often you get sick of them. Nobody makes anything new either.”

I also possess some selections Dirk enjoyed, if you would prefer listening to those. They may prove to be something more to your taste, he was particular about what he listened to.

“Particular how?”

He was particularly ardent in enjoying what he liked and stubbornly sitting through what he didn’t like before deleting it from any device he listened to it on. Let me play a sample, Hal offered before going quiet and chiming softly to signal he was changing focus.

Bro stopped walking when the music started, quiet near his ears to not block out incoming noise but loud enough to hear the quickly pronounced words and heavy beat, the tempo driving into his skull enough that he tapped his foot in time with it. Soon he was bobbing his head, catching the tune even without knowing the words, and smirking in amusement.

“Not quite what I’m used to, no. But it’s nice. Feel free to keep’em coming while we head on, yeah? Turn them off if you detect something approaching,” he instructed.

But of course, Bro. I’m not an idiot, said Hal in a more modulated voice than usual behind the thrum of the music.

When he began to walk again, the beat added a new cadence to his step and made the walking go by quicker than before. In no time at all he was over the bridge and on the other side of the water, taking in his surroundings with the same eyes of the curious and the mildly kleptomanic. Every new venue was a new opportunity, especially when there were what looked like stores in the distance. Hell, now that he had his new pet project he’d need a few parts, wouldn’t he?

“...Mm. Hal, that sign says ‘Toys’ in part of the name, right?”

It would seem so. It was likely a location of the Time For Toys brand from before the war, Hal offered. It could potentially be something else, but the orientation of those letters makes the likelihood of it being anything else quite low.

“Perfect. Let’s go shoppin’.”

Giving another glance to the toy in his pocket, guessing what size of batteries to keep an eye out for adjustments sake later on, Bro strode towards the building bearing the toy slogan and let himself inside without a second thought.

Perhaps he should have thought twice. There were few places as unnerving as an abandoned toy shop that had sat this long through destruction and disuse. Rows and rows of figurines, dolls, moth eaten soft toys, accessories, and toy cars rested on the shelves and from dangling sorting rods that stuck out at even intervals. Everything was silent save for his footsteps, and Hal kept focusing the t’s on various rodents that were startled by the sudden invasion. As far as humans went, it seemed most had stayed clear. There just wasn’t much use for toys after the war he supposed.

...Okay, bullshit, he kind of wished he’d known this place existed when Dave was a baby. He probably would have loved a lot of these things, instead of making do with the things Bro could make him. Smuppets were amazing, and so were the other puppets and the electronic things, but sometimes a kid just needs a teddybear. He poked one with blue button eyes and sawdust stuffed feet, its floppy soft arms resting alongside its torso with fabric claw tips resting alongside its thighs. The bear fell over with a soft whump and a bit of dust in the air, leaving Bro free to quietly explore the graveyard of toys.

Past a section of toy balls that had long since deflated, baseballs and mitts, were electronic toys. Dollies that talked and horses and dogs and cats that made realistic noises seemed to be all the rage, but along with them hung more of the egg shaped toy he had in his pocket in different colors, still in the package. Whistling softly, still nodding along with the tempo on the song Hal continued to play, he grabbed several of the packages and batteries from the end of the display cap to stuff into his bag.

That was when he saw it. Soft, fluffy, and apparently capable of movement and speech. The small creature was hard to decipher at a glance species wise. It had a beak and two big eyes that could apparently blink when they weren’t staring into your soul, a small sensor in its forehead, and two massive ears. Two fat, pudgy paws rested at its base in front of a set of wheels that offered free movement.

Furby.

An apt name, Bro supposed. The little thing was furry as hell, soft to his rough fingered touch and fairly sweet looking with its black and white fur pattern. The external fluff seemed to safeguard a sizeable chunk of electronics from what he could guess thanks to a testing squeeze. ...Interesting.

What are you so distracted by now.

“You think you’d be capable of driving one of these?” Bro asked curiously. “It’s got wheels and seems like it can maneuver around on its own from an AI. Talks too.”

I’d rather die. So there is your answer.

“But it’s possible,” Bro continued. “You were able to work that droid back there just fine. Think of how useful this would be for checking out crowded buildings.”

Wouldn’t an RC car be more useful for exploration purposes.

“Hey, I never said I wouldn’t mod this thing,” Bro said as he continued to feel the edges of the furby before turning it and cutting the edge of its fur open, removing the skin messily to get a better look at what lay beneath. “Look. See? A lot of these guts’re useless. Could take them out, put better power and mobility, maybe add a weapon.. Maybe connect the innards of a walkie talkie in there too, or some radio parts to keep in contact.”

It was a whole new project idea. The egg toy was one thing, but this. This was something entirely new. And the fact that Hal hated it so much on sight was kind of appealing.

Are you implying you plan to weaponize a furby.

“Yes. I’m also implyin’ I’d like to see you pilot the damn thing if I can make it work how I want it to. Could set you loose on a floor and let you roll around doin’ your own damn thing, keep shit off you left and right, let me know what you see. You’d be able to help me out.”

And the reason I couldn’t do that with the big droid is…?

“Batteries, bein’ inconspicuous, and portability. I can stuff one of these things in my bag easy, and nobody would expect one of these to be anything important,” he hummed, mind already going wild. Dave would love it.

No, Dave would probably hate it and say he was taunting God but Dave wasn’t here right now and Bro was itching to customize. He glanced back the way he’d come before putting his tongue between his teeth, thinking.. and then grabbing another furby identical to the one he’d de-skinned. He’d need to strip it cleaner, treat it nicer, figure out how these fuckers ticked. Manual was probably in the box somewhere, but even if it wasn’t how hard would it be to figure out a children’s toy?

“I think I know where we’re campin’ tonight. Lemme just grab a few things and we’ll find a spot to nest down.”

I’m never touching that thing, I have no idea why you look like a child with a new toy.

“Because I’m a man-child with several new toys,” corrected Bro as he wandered the aisles, looking for radios or walkie talkies. Paydirt came in the form of a pair of ‘authentic army navy walkie talkies’ whose authenticity he seriously doubted even with their rather pretty camouflage patterning just based on the materials he felt beneath his fingers. These casings would be easy enough to pop with his hands, let alone with his tools, they could really have stood to make these sturdier. He’d kill for a good blowtorch though, maybe make some kind of a shell underneath the furby fur to-

You’re a maniac. You do know that, correct? I can’t hear your thoughts but the things you’re looking at are alarming when placed with the potential logic.

“I think you mean genius, thanks. Shoosh now, I’m tryin’ to find Frankenfurb some more parts,” Bro hummed, tucking the walkie talkies beneath his arm before finding a shopping basket. There. Much better. Like a pre-war man he wandered the aisles, snagging things that looked useful or interesting or, in the case of his eventual sleeping, soft. His sleeping spot back behind the main register ina protected circle of countertops was soon piled high with plushes and surreptitiously dotted with his electronic findings and various tidbits he planned to use for parts. Doll clothes, while overall worthless to him, still had elastic bands inside of them and the fabric wasn’t flammable. Useful. He even found a child size pair of sunglasses he’d already made plans for, so long as he was able to control the melting properly.

Peeling off his boots and settling back with his supper, Bro opened his bag and set to work toying with his new toys. First everything had to be opened and examined, taken apart, and in some places scrapped entirely down to their base components until he had a small pile of tidbits at his disposal. The toy from earlier seemed to be damaged even when he tried to power it on, but the new packaged replacements just needed to have their old battery removed and replaced with something new to turn on. He already knew how he wanted to update it, especially since there seemed to be a data port that would fit Hal’s cable to it. He failed to say it, but it would be a good emergency backup for transportation should anything ever happen to the shades.

The furby would be his prize. Off went its two toned furry skin, out came its voice box and innards, and in went an assortment of new parts.. Including a salvaged port from one of the extra egg toys Bro had grabbed. He’d worked well into the night by the time he put the skin back on and proudly wiped the beak clean before adding the tiny shades, grinning proudly at it.

“Might need some more tweakin’, and I wanna get a proper laser to put in the thing.. But for now it should be able to move around easier and communicate back to the matchin’ walkie talkie,” he said, gesturing over to his creation with both hands and a wide smile.

It’s hideous.

“You’re gonna be in there eventually, Hal, mark my words.”

If it comes down to being a matter of life or death, I consider my life to have been a full one until you can repair me properly.

“You’d rather be dead than have some mobility and autonomy while helpin’ me out?” Bro asked, rummaging in his bag for some water to quench his thirst, using a bit more to wipe his face with now that sleep was settling into his brain.

Did I fucking stutter.

“All I hear is someone who’s bitchy and in denial about the frankenfurb.”

Bro’s vision faded briefly to display those red eyes once more, though this time they were giving a decided roll before his vision faded back in.

When a furby is on the line, Bro, I will be as bitchy as I please.

#bro strider #lil hal #brohal #stridercest #homestuck #my fic

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im-tops-bottom · 6 years ago

Text

Tony and Bucky made a bet one night during sex.

Bucky said that they can have sex around each Avenger (that was an adult and at least over 21) without them noticing.

Tony said that the Avengers are really smart and they will find out.

If Bucky one then he gets a week filled with doing all sorts of dirty things to Tony involving toys and Tony wasn't allowed to cum until the week is up.

If Tony won then Bucky had to do his paperwork for both SI, SHIELD and Steve Rogers (because sometimes people tend to leave out things in their notes when they hand them over to Coulson and leave out even more things but include everything they left out when handing another mission report over to Steve. Unless you are Tony, Bucky, Loki and Clint who like to be the biggest trolls known to man) for an entire month.

Bucky knew he was going to win. Tony thought amd prayed he would win.

Things weren't looking so good for Tony when they had already gone through most of the members already. Hell! When they were doing behind Bruce's back, poor distraught Peter had walked in and afterwards begged Tony to create a machine to wipe his memory blank clean of that moment because he didn't need to see his fake parents over the top PDA. He also told them that he is going to stay away from them until their stupid bet is over and warned all the other kids about it too.

Tony lost complete faith in humanity when not even Loki caught them. Bucky just laughed while Tony was raging up in their room. It took Bucky to fuck Tony into tge mattress to get the distressed genius to calm the fuck down.

It wasn't until they reached the last two people when things got interesting. Not because it was the last two people but because it was the hardest pair to ever get away with anything. Steve and Natasha.

Tony says he wants to up the ante. He tells Bucky that if he can get away with it with both Steve and Nat at the same time then he will, with no complaints, dive deep into Bucky's kink list for a year. He had snuck into Bucky's top right drawer one night, curious about what was in Bucky's kink book and he had to gulp because om the very last page it had said 'start up a Dom/sub relationship with Tony Stark' with all the adorable things he wants to do for Tony once he has fucked Tony into deep subspace. One of them was make Tony eat, drink and sleep like a normal person. Another one was see how long he can keep Tony into subspace and just cuddle him throughout the entire thing.

Bucky tells him that if they get caught then he will take care of every Avenger scandal and do their washing for an entire year. It causes both of them to shudder because when Hulk sweats, the hulk god damn sweats amd it ain't a pretty sight. Hard to get him to reach that point but it does miraculously happens. They smirk and say game on before going to bed at "wait it's only 8pm?" "Sleep Tony. You're gonna need it. It's literally your ass on the line"

Bucky wakes Tony up at 4 in the morning amd takes his sweet time opening Tony up. Alot of tongue was involved on his part as eating Tony out is his favorite passtime. He fucks Tony until they both cum. He shoves one of Tony's homemade vibrators inside Tony making sure to keep the cum in. This is bigger than his already giant dick and has interesting settings. The controller for it also controls a special cock ring as well which he carefully puts on Tony as he makes him hard again. Another interesting feature of the controller is that it also controls small chainless clamps that he clips on to Tony's very sensitive nipples. He carries Tony into the shower before getting them both changed.

Once Tony calms down a bit, it's 6 am so they head down to grab some breakfast before heading out for a run with Steve and Sam.

Bucky can't help but snicker amd snort Everytime Steve looks worryingly at Tony who has trouble running enough as it is without Bucky having to turn everything on. Bucky just tells Steve to keep on running and he'll keep an eye on Tony. As Steve gets far enough away from them, Bucky cracks up laughing as Tony yelps because he turns everything on to the highest setting. As soon as Steve turns around he turns them off just in case. He does this to Tony throughout the entire run.

"I'm thought it was both Steve and Nat, winter sexyland?"

"why not get a headstart? That was a good wake up call on what's going to happen throughout the entire day."

After a full day of torture, Natasha and Clint both return home from a mission. They have their showers and Tony orders in as they made it just in time for movie night. Tony groans as Bucky tells Friday to play the loudest action movie with a good rating. Tony hears Clint snort before saying "Fri long story short, just play a Michael bay movie list". The lights dim as Bruce hands out bowls of popcorn, chips and drinks.

Bucky pulls Tony onto his lap before getting comfortable. They were on the loveseat that is slightly far away from everyone but they can still see if they look out of the corner of their eyes. It made it slightly easier for them to try and not get caught. Both Tony amd Bucky's hearts starting to pick up the pace because this is it. Steve, Nat and Clint were om the couch on the opposite side of them.

Bucky leans down and breathes into Tony's ear before deeply voicing out "it's showtime baby boy. I'm gonna make you cum so hard and they won't know what happened until it's too late. I'm gonna win this bet. Once I claim victory, I'm gonna carry you upstairs so i can fuck you so hard you won't remember your name or be able to walk, let alone sit down for an entire week."

Tony grinds down onto Bucky and smirks as he hears a low groan in his ear. "I may have been wrong with most of the Avengers and Peter didn't count, but watch this. They will notice an you will pretty much be the in-house Maid. Don't worry, I'll even get Friday to get sets of maid outfits".

As soon as tony closes his mouth, everything becomes a blur for him.

Bucky is having way too much fun.

Once Tony has joined the real world again, it's 2;35pm and his eyes open to a smug looking Bucky who has just gotten out of the shower. He rolls onto his stomach and groans loudly into the pillow causing Bucky to laugh.

"i take it you won?"

"barely"

Tony looks up in confusion.

"what happened?"

"well after you came so hard that you passed out, there was a loud explosion in the movie so it drowned out your moan. I apologized to everyone saying that if they heard moaning or groaning, I do apologise, because tony has food poisoning. They didn't even question it"

"ok and where does the 'barely' fit in?"

"well since we agreed that the bet ended at midnight last night, i proudly carried you off to our room. This morning when I woke up, I entered the kitchen and got hounded on by a blushing Steve who wasn't impressed when him and Nat had put two and two together. They watched all the footage the security cameras captured before speaking to Peter who told them what the plan was. Nat was busy telling everyone else what we had been doing behind their backs this whole week. After chewing my head off he told me to make sure you were okay and yo check up on you"

"okay well that makes sense"

"thank God it took them all night to figure it out. Don't know what I would have done if I lost"

"probably go into hiding"

"no that's your style and everyone is gonna make sure that you don't do it until we fulfill what we bargained for. Oh I am so happy. I got a book full of stuff we can do and we have a whole year to complete it. God I love you so much Tony"

Tony whimpers before going back to groaning into the pillow. "Yeah yeah yeah love you too buckaroo. Now bring me some damn painkillers, water and food before I lose my shit"

Bucky chuckles as he kisses Tony's head before running out of the room in excitement while screaming "I won. I am the champion. The champ is here so bow down bitches"

Tony chuckles as he hears everyone scream out "shut the fuck up Bucky". God he loves that a brilliant man.

#winteriron #not suitable for kids #nc-17 #smut #bets are made #The Bet #The Bet Series

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katsukikitten · 5 years ago

Text

Princess prt 4

You lie awake, waiting on baited breath to hear his own slow. Still you are unsure. He may be hot tempered but he is the master at even breathing, even when he was sprinting full speed with your weight, cradled in those strong arms. People, guards you assume, walk near the tent in unpredictable rounds interfering with the moisture radius you've set alarming you to a possible threat.

Eventually exaustion pulls you under so hard and so fast that you cannot keep up with your normal radius.

Something pulls at the water in the air, calling it forth and instantly you react.

Contorting yourself, half turned at the waist, to aim your dominate hand at the threat. Holding a large bald man who is covered in tattoos by his blood.

Steaming water stays stooped in time, forever cascading into a mostly empty tub. Your breathing becomes ragged, he had generated so much water, had gotten much too close.

He could have killed you if he wished. You squeeze your hold on him and his eyes bulge just a bit. He cannot fight back like Father did.

As you watch his face twist in horror you feel something sing deep into your bones before you smell the heavy tang of blood, so much of it you can taste it in your mouth as if misted in the air.

The power calls to you to do it, you've done it countless times.

What's one more?

"*Princess*." A husky growl, and a tight grip on your hip, "I would appreciate if you didn't kill my favorite bath filler. He is one of the few in his family who can call upon it so hot."

You turn to face the King slowly, when you meet his eyes you begin to feel more than just the man's frantic heart beat and rushing blood.

More than the dark call of your power.

Starting with the heated touch of his skin to yours followed by the searing pain of your left cheek. Some how in the middle of the night you flipped onto your left, smothering your wound. You throw your hold with a flick of the wrist and the sound of water filling a tub returns almost drowned out by a man gasping for breath.

Birds sing, thankful for another morning. You clench your jaw and slowly exhale through your nose. The smell of spice already begins to fill the yurt.

Scarlet eyes look over the other figure in the room before holding onto yours.

You offer him nothing but a heated, overly alert gaze as the rest of the world moves on. He stands and you wrap yourself in the cool white sheets to sit as the man bows to the ash blonde.

"Thank you Mizu." Katsuki dismisses but before Mizu leaves you pipe up.

"There is only one tub?" Venom drips over every syllable as you feel you know the answer.

"Ah how could I forget about you Princess," He leans over and passes a small bucket to Mizu, "Fill this one for the lady."

"That will not be enough!"

"I've got rags. You can sponge yourself. What with your leg wound you cant submerge it." He hisses as he gets into the over sized tub letting out the smallest of sighs as he plunges himself shoulder deep.

The water is hot enough that you see sweat already forming on his brow.

Mizu fills the small bucket and gives the smallest bow before leaving. You stand and snatch the bucket up. It is more a size for washing ones face than their whole body.

Plus you *need* to submerge it to heal it.

You step into the tub and his face becomes that much more heated.

Red with anger, blush.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He lashes but you still sit across from him.

You have more than enough room to keep your knees slightly extended that your feet are between his outstretched ones. Should you wish you could fully extend your legs and your feet would only reach his knees. The water comes up to your collar bone when you slouch.

"No one shares bath water with the King. Not even his queen." A growl so dark, had he not been engulfed in water explosions would have skittered across his skin in warning. You glare into his intense crimson eyes.

"Then it is a good thing that I have no King." You growl, feathers ruffled so early in the morning that only being enveloped in your weapon would make you feel better. You ignore his lingering glare as you begin to work your calf wound first, by the time the bath is over it should be nothing but a scar. But your face....

Well your face will be different story.

You attempt to collect water from the smaller bucket and splash it onto your face.

Your wound feels as if it coils away and you cannot help but wince. Your face contorts, worsening the second heart beat that is your cheek.

All the while scarlet eyes rover over the stitches that feel as if they are pulling your skin apart instead of together.

He watches many failed attempts before he grabs onto your wrist, with a steel grip.

"You'll never get it clean that way dumbass." He snarls, reaching for a white rag, he dips it into your little bucket of water making a come here motion with the rag.

You look at him with such malice that he snorts, eyes shifting away before coming back full force.

"Never had a face injury I see. They are more delicate than most wounds huh?" It is then do you look at him with sharp enough eyes to see the ever so faint scars upon his own face and even throat.

Faded with time, age and possibly proper treatment.

"Know that we are in my element." You growl before adjusting yourself to sit on your knees between his, you hold his once more to deliver a final threat, "Know at any second I could strip you of your sweat and drown you with it."

He gives a cruel smile in response before you close your eyes. He is gentle, much more gentle than the one they called Momo last night. Your eyes flutter as he wipes away the old ointment and some dried blood and you sink your nails into your thighs to avoid biting your swollen lip. He is even more gentle with your bottom lip as you feel a single digit follow over the curvature of it. Somehow you relax into his touch, time stretches and only the sound of sloshing water can be heard.

Before your eyes snap open to feel a fast approaching figure, they stay focused over the shoulder of the King who seems to watch your tension.

A ruby red head barges into the tent, sounding exasperated as he speaks.

"Your majesty I respect your decision but what the fuck?"

Then garnet eyes widen, cheeks slightly flushed as he bows.

"Princess. I beg your pardon." He gives his back to you both, "So she *is* your queen then."

"She isnt my Queen!" "I'm no one's Queen!"

We both yell with such fury but all that Prince Kirishima does is laugh.

"What is he doing here? In the badlands and not in the mountains."

A smile laced with mischief captured his almost kissable lips.

"He is my general." Katsuki says, placing the rag onto the side of the tub to dry.

"How could he be? He is a prince of his own lands."

"I started as a poor boy traveling the bad lands. I grew up with King Bakugou. He took me under his wing, taught me to best utilize my quirk. The mountain people, just like the badlandians do not go by lineage. They go by power, if you defeat the former King then you've earned the title. I'm repaying my debt by being his general as well. " Kirishima speaks and your eyes narrow.

Does this mean he murdered his own father?

"Did you not say you were a Prince at my auction?" You watch as Katsuki dunks his head under for just a second.

He is too trusting.

When he comes back up he runs his hands through his wet hair and some of it clings to his forehead, it's odd not to see it in it's usually spiked mess.

Your heart races.

"All titles are trivial when it comes to the High King aren't they?" Kiri asks peeking over his shoulder to see more of your exposed sunkissed skin. Only to get a cold glare from the king himself as he steps from the bath, wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Give me a moment and we can speak privately, General. As for you Princess I'll put ointment on your wound when you're done soaking." He sets down two fine bottles of creamy white liquid. Shampoo and conditioner you guess.

"You may speak in my audience. You'll need it considering you're now at war with the High King." With Bakugo out of the water you stretch to your hearts content. Practically moaning at the heat of the water.

Bakugo growls, turning to say something to you only half dressed.

"She's right. We are most likely at war." Eijirou inturpts and you smile satisfactory at him.

Eijirou sits in one of the two blood red chairs, the one that faces you in the tub, ruby eyes glitter as they stare at you. You've adjusted yourself to a better view for Eijirou to admire without realizing it. You sit straight now so you can focus and hear but that leaves the top of your breasts exposed to air.

Exposed to a hungry man with a toothy smile.

That is before a stern looking Bakugo looms over him.

Eiji stands to sit in the chair that gives you his back as Bakugou takes his seat with you in his sights. He stares coolly at your relaxed face as you lean your head back for a moment. Displaying your throat for him, he swallows the thought of his teeth nipping at that tender skin.

He looks to his general, forcing himself not to admire your body once more.

"She will be an excellent bargaining chip." Katsuki speaks and you roll your eyes.

"A bargaining chip that made the High King bow on his *knees* in front of thousands upon thousands of people and four foreign princes." You comment eyes still closed, "Not to mention you whisked this bargaining chip away before he could commit homicide on his own daughter in front of the crowd. That alone would have worked towards your advantage better than letting me live. Many would have questioned his sanity. His stability to rule. Instead you supported my declaration for war."

You slowly open your eyes to stare up at the ceiling of the tent, you realize now that the black canvas above is painted with flecks of silver and gold stars. You curse yourself for losing your observing touch all from wounding yourself.

Especially damning considering what is to come.

"She has a point." Kiri speaks up. Burning red eyes flick away from you and pierce into his general.

"How long do you think it will take your father to rebuild his ships?" Kiri looks over his shoulder and you shrug.

"Doesn't matter. I think this time he will wait for us to come to him but I won't know for sure until he sends a scout." You subconsciously swirl the water into the air with your fingers as you think, "If its Ares then war is coming to us and it's coming hard, if he sends any other brother then he's planning on waiting it out."

"That's right if King Toben sent you or Ares then it meant he wasn't playing around." Kiri comments, eyes still trailing in your direction.

You are surprised that the Prince of the Mountains would know that. It is not common knowledge and none have lived long enough to tell. Ares and yourself were on strick orders to kill on sight until Father arrived. You go to comment before you are rudely interrupted.

"Either way I will get what I want." Katsuki hisses, "General another time. Princess you've soaked long enough."

You glare with such intensity that any other man would quiver. But never the Barbadian King. You stand despite the general still being present and Bakugou gives you such a look that plants would whither beneath his heated gaze.

Kirishima silently enjoys the show, the curvature of your hips, your broad strong shoulders and your soft supple looking tits. He salivates at the thought of tasting you, that is until he sees his King turn to face him.

Kirishima bows, before exiting, "Another day my King."

He does not understand the King's hostility if he is so agaisnt keeping you.

"I see you have no shame." Katsuki passes you a fine towel. One that is neither too rough or soft. You take it greedily and begin drying yourself off, you start with your face, and the kind fabric pulls harshly on the rough stitch on your lip. You let out the smallest whimper trying hard to keep your eyes from tearing. An angry sigh fills the remaining silence of the tent.

"Gentle dumbass." He growls, tenderly disentangling the fabric, "You'll pull the stitch. That is unless you want Momo to have to start over again."

You shake your head as he pops the top of a small jar filled with a thick translucent gel. You hold still as swift fingers work over the stitches so softly that you barely feel them on your cheek.

You watch his blood red eyes as he works. They are hard, focused before they linger on your lips, something in them changes. He slowly drags his finger over your lip, it moves to the pad of his middle finger before he let's it go. You feel heat on your cheeks for no damn good reason. You turn away quickly.

"Thank you." You says harshly, "but next time I will apply it myself. My clothes?"

You hear him slam the jar down, before he produces the black outfit with the white fur.

"No way in hell." You snarl in his mother tongue. He chuckles.

"It's that or your towel Princess." He replies smoothly, his accent having almost a low drawl in his first language, "How did you learn? I've been dying to know since your argument with the old man."

"I must know all the languages of the kingdom, other wise how will I ever know when they conspire agaisnt me." You snatch the clothes from his capable hands before throwing the towel on the floor.

Still you hesitate. If you put this on will they think you his queen? Won't you be back at square one?

You smirk to yourself as you pull yourself into the tight but comfortable pants and the low cut vest adorned with contrasting white fur.

The King's slight blush confirms what you already know, that you look fucking killer.

No, with this outfit you will not be his queen. You will be the High Queen even if it's the last thing you do.

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader

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winryofresembool · 6 years ago

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EdWin one-shot: Laundry day

Summary: Doing your laundry can lead to unexpected confessions.

A/N: my part of the fic trade with @edxwin-elric! I used the fluff prompt “No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” for this fic. (I guess I could have taken this to an entirely different direction but didn’t :-D). And, since this is (another) confession fic, I also used @kittykatz009‘s prompt “I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.” because I really don’t think you’d want to read 23526436 confession fics from me. I hope you don’t mind me combining them, since this is kinda long-ish (for a one-shot). Please enjoy and review!!

Words: 2340+

Genre: ultra fluff (aka cotton candy, named by @kilmartin85).

Warnings: swearing (Pinako ♥)

“Edward Elric! Where the hell are you? We are supposed to do laundry today!”

Up in his room, Ed closed the book he was reading dramatically and let out a deep sigh. He had beaten the god himself and saved the entire country, yet that didn’t give him free pass on boring things like household chores. To be fair, though, Ed hated being useless, so he didn’t actually mind helping around. He just found bickering with Winry too enjoyable.

“Didn’t we just do the laundry last week? Why do we have to do it again?” he yelled back, preparing for an explosion.

“DO YOU ENJOY USING DIRTY CLOTHES? I am NOT touching your underwear, you jerk!”

“Alright, alright! No need to yell. Just give me a second!” He started piling all the clothes he had thrown around the room onto his bed hastily, not wanting to make Winry any angrier. For some reason, he had become a bit more careful about that lately.

Al peeked inside Ed’s room and snickered.

“I recommend you hurry, brother. There might still be someone in Resembool who didn’t hear about Fullmetal Alchemist, the hero of the people, having to wash his dirty boxers himself.”

Ed threw the closest piece of clothing (lucky for Al, only a T-shirt) at his brother and fumed of anger.

“Laugh ahead, Al. There will be a day when Winry and the old hag will decide you are strong enough to be their slave as well.”

“You know I would help them already if they let me. Unlike some people, I don’t feel the need to complain about every chore I’m supposed to do.”

“Har de har.”

Ed picked up the pile of clothes from the bed and made Al a face when he handed him the T-shirt he had thrown but left from the room without saying another word.

When he sauntered into the laundry room (earning a pointed look for his purposefully lazy appearance), Winry was already washing her own clothes in a huge bucket filled with water and soap. Some richer families already had machines to do this job, and Ed had suggested the Rockbells get one too since he had money to buy them one. However, Pinako refused, saying that they were still perfectly capable of doing this with their own hands so there was no need to waste money on such unnecessary devices.

“Finally. I was about to come and drag you here,” Winry noted, not lifting her gaze from the overalls she was currently trying to scrub clean. There was no way she’d ever get the oil stains off it, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

“Why is it so important to you that I wash my clothes? It’s not like you have to wear them or anything…” Ed grunted as he filled his own bucket with warm water. Then he pulled his hoodie off to avoid getting it wet, giving Winry a nice view to his strong, bare arms, and put the rubber gloves on.

“Yes, but I have to smell you,” she pointed out, trying to not get too distracted by Ed’s appearance. “Clothes start smelling, Ed, especially when you sweat a lot, and trust me, no one in this house wants to deal with your stink.”

“I do not smell that bad!”

“Then what’s that weird stench that comes through your door every time I walk past it?”

“I… it’s… I don’t know! It’s probably Al!”

“Right.” Winry sighed.

“How about we just stay quiet for a while and finish this?” Ed pointed towards the mountain of laundry, and for once both of them agreed on something.

Soon enough, they had more clean than dirty clothes in their hands and Ed decided it was safe to speak again.

“How’s your apprenticeship going? Are you done with it soon?”

Winry was genuinely pleased that Ed seemed interested in her work. Before Al and his return, he had never asked about it.

“It’s going nicely. I think I’ll be done within the next few months!” she exclaimed happily. “Did I mention I’m gonna go to Rush Valley next week again? Garfiel wants to see how I’ve progressed, and you guys don’t really need me here anymore…”

“Don’t say that!” Ed said unexpectedly. “Who will make me do my laundry when you’re not around? Who will make me cook and clean and fix the broken roof and so on?”

Winry frowned at him. “I know you would do those things either way, you’re just pretending to be a tough guy whose job is to complain a bit first. And Granny is always here to keep you guys in line if you suddenly forget how to function.”

“I… We just like to, you know, have you around here,” Ed said sheepishly.

“Even though I should probably be honored, I need to remind you that I’m only going to be away for a couple of weeks. You guys were gone for years. How do you think I was feeling when I never even heard anything from you?”

“Sorry, Winry!” Ed squeaked before she had a chance to throw something at him. “We needed to focus on getting Al’s body back 100 per cent, and besides, I thought you’d understand. It was to protect you… and to avoid getting distracted.

“What do you mean by ‘getting distracted’? I don’t understand you, Ed.”

“I’m really bad at explaining this stuff, but… this place was the only home we had left, and had we come back, it would have been so easy to forget our mission and get too relaxed. Do you think we’d be here if we had slacked off?”

“No! But you guys never called, never let me know if you were OK… Would it really have ruined everything if you had talked with us two minutes on the phone?”

“You don’t understand!”

“What do I not understand?” Winry was practically yelling now. Here they went again, she groaned in her mind. Why could they not have a civil conversation anymore?

Ed had already passed the point in which he cared about what kind of consequences his next words might have.

“Have you ever considered that perhaps one of the reasons why I didn’t want to contact you was that I cared about you too damn much? That when I heard your voice or saw your face I was afraid I’d forget what I was supposed to do?! What if someone had found out how important you are to us? What if someone had tried to find out about our plans through you? They could have hurt you!”

“What?” Winry stared at him with wide eyes. Was he really saying what she thought he was?

“Don’t make me repeat it.” Ed said coldly and turned away from her.

“You are making me even more confused than I was before! Give me an honest answer to one question: does what you just said mean that you have been in love with me all this time?”

“I don’t… they all say… YES.” He nearly yelled the final word.

“You idiot,” Winry sighed and put the shirt she was washing back into the bucket, getting up and sitting down next to Ed. “How long were you going to keep that inside you?”

“I was going to tell you eventually.” He still couldn’t look at her. “This wasn’t really how I planned to do it…”

Winry set her hand on Ed’s knee and said: “It’s OK. I don’t care. I… have been keeping things from you too. I was scared you’d freak out if I told you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Edward Elric, the youngest state alchemist ever, yet still so dense… Hey, could you help me hang this sheet?” She suddenly suggested.

“Huh? What…”

Before Ed had time to react, Winry threw the damp sheet on them and pulled Ed up, setting her hands on his shoulders. Ed couldn’t see much, but soon he felt something moist that definitely wasn’t the sheet against his lips. It was warm and soft, making Ed shiver a bit. The sensation was over too soon, but Winry’s voice said: “Sorry… I just found it easier to do this way.” She took a deep breath and continued: “I love you too, you weirdo. Have loved for a long time now.”

“Why haven’t you told me earlier?”

“I think I could ask you the same question,” Winry snorted and pushed some of Ed’s hair aside so she could see his face slightly better under the damb sheet.

“Fair enough. But, um, why are we still under this thing? It’s wet and cold!”

“This may sound ridiculous, but in so many stories that I read as a child the prince and princess or whatever kissed in the rain… and I wanted to try that. Well, it’s not raining now so I had to improvise a bit.” Despite the cool cover, Winry felt her cheeks warm.

“OK, but we’re not kissing, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Jerk. We can always fix that!”

“OK.”

Lips met lips again, this time more eagerly, and since he was now prepared for the kiss, Ed took the lead. He snuck his hands into her hair and tilted his head to get a better access to her lips. Just when he thought he had gotten the hang of it, the door opened.

“Why is it so quiet here? Are you two slacking off? OH!”

Pinako spotted the feet under the sheet in the middle of the room and grinned at the sight.

“I was starting to wonder when you’d make the move, pipsqueak. You guys have been frustrating me ever since the boys came back, so it’s about time. Just make sure you’re not having sex under my roof when I’m nearby! And for fuck’s sake, don’t mess that sheet or you’ll get an earful.”

“Granny!” both youngsters screamed and threw the sheet off them, rushing to hang it on the clothes line.

The couple continued doing their laundry in an awkward silence as Pinako kept observing them. When they were finally done, Ed, who had noticed Winry seemed a bit cold after getting her clothes wet, handed her the white hoodie he had worn earlier.

“Here. You probably need it more than I do,” he said awkwardly, and Winry took the hoodie happily, enjoying the softness against her skin.

“Thanks.” Winry smiled and sighed of relief when she saw her granny finally leaving them alone.

“About that earlier…” she said quietly. “I think we should do that again sometime.” “Yeah, when the old hag isn’t nearby.” Ed stated. It was the second time that day they agreed on something.

…

Five days later, Ed, Al and Winry were waiting for Winry’s train to arrive to the Resembool station. Ed had secretly wished Al would let him walk Winry there alone, but unfortunately the younger Elric had been bored and wanted to take the opportunity to tease him mercilessly about his new relationship. Pinako had of course told him about the events of the laundry room, and after that Ed’s life had been a “living hell” (a couple of times Ed had thought fighting a Homunculus was easier than facing both Al and Pinako who always had those knowing smirks on their faces when they saw him, looking ready to taunt him). To Winry, Al had told that he was happy for them, and that he had been wishing his brother would finally admit the inevitable.

As they were standing at the platform, Winry noticed that Ed was staring at her with a weird look on his face.

“What?” she raised her eyebrow.

“What what?” Ed asked.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong?”

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

“Oh.”

Winry was wearing the very same hoodie Ed had given her in the laundry room, not even realizing there was anything weird about it. When she had picked her outfit for that day, she had been pretty nervous about the upcoming evaluation with Garfiel (although Ed had claimed she was already better than anyone in Rush Valley), and the hoodie had seemed comforting in that moment. Maybe it made her feel that way because it was Ed’s, she had concluded in her mind.

“It suits you.” Ed said when Al ran a little farther to pet a cat that was walking by.

“Huh?”

She wasn’t used to Ed giving her such direct compliments, but she definitely wasn’t going to complain about this change.

“Do you mind if I keep it?” she asked then.

“Naah, I have plenty of them in my wardrobe…” Ed rubbed the back of his neck in a way that had become familiar to Winry during the years they had known each other.

“Good. Oh, I guess this is it,” she noted when she saw the train approaching the station. “Hey, Al, I gotta go!” she yelled at her friend who was now holding the cat in his arms and waved at Winry with its paw. “I’ll see you later! Please don’t traumatize that cat!”

“You know I wouldn’t!” Al yelled back and set the poor feline that had been meowing loudly back down.

“See you, Winry,” Ed said and snuck a kiss on Winry’s cheek when he saw Al wasn’t watching. When Winry was lifting her luggage into the train, he took a deep breath and added: “And don’t forget: I-I lo-love you.”

“What?” Winry genuinely didn’t hear what he said because the train was whistling loudly, signing the passengers it was about to leave.

“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering… but clearly, that failed.” He said much louder, not noticing Al was now in the hearing distance.

“Silly. Love you too,” Winry said before stepping inside the train and waving the brothers through the window.

“Aww, brother, I didn’t know you were so sweet!” Al said when the train disappeared from their view.

“Fuck off, Alphonse.” Ed growled, his face almost the color of burgundy.

#edwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #my fics #fullmetal alchemist #also i /promise/ to not write any more confessions at least before something happens in lcmti #y'all get bored with them :S

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kaette-kita-slayers · 7 years ago

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Slayers Smash 5-1 - The Shadow in the Blue Sea

In addition to the interviews, I'm hoping to go through a bunch of the short stories and write up detailed summaries, starting with Slayers Smash, since I don't think that there's much out there in English about these. (I might go back and cover some of my favorites from Special, though.)

Anyway, I'm starting with the first story in Smash v.5. No particular reason for the choice, other than I just bought the book and read it for the first time. :)

The Shadow in the Blue Sea

The story opens with Lina in a restaurant in the port city of Oakman, confronting the visibly nervous proprietor. Some sorcerers from the local guild had brought her there to have croff fish, a seasonal specialty, but Lina was immediately able to tell that she had actually been served sword mackerel. She had briefly considered not saying anything, not wanting to embarrass her companions, but then decided she couldn't let him get away with it (plus she wanted the real fish!)

Trying to figure out what to say to Lina, the man glances over at the other sorcerers for some reason, but they are suddenly interrupted by the sound of a bell outside, and shouts of "It's him! He's here!"

Lina jumps up and runs outside, followed by the other sorcerers, and finds a crowd gathered, all staring out at the ocean. In the distance, she can see a small island and some boats; all of the latter are fleeing back to the port. Suddenly, a shadow rises from the depths and leaps into the air, washing several boats away.

"... What the heck was that...?" I muttered unconsciously. The thing had already sunk back into the ocean.

It was about the size of a reasonably large dragon, and it looked like what you would get if you took a mackerel pike, made it really huge, then added gangly limbs. More than anything else, it looked like a child's drawing of a fish with arms and legs added as a joke.

The fish (?) jumps around a few more times, tossing the ships, then vanishes. As the townspeople go to assess the damage, Lina demands answers from the other sorcerers. After some embarrassed silence, one of the group, a forty-ish man named Quantum, offers to explain everything, and they head for the Oakman Sorcerer's Guild.

Quantum dejectedly tells Lina that the guild had been hired to investigate why the croff fish, already difficult to catch, had been steadily decreasing in number. They discovered that the croff fish are a variety of sword mackerel that tends to be delicate and not very fertile. Unfortunately, ceasing fishing would destroy the town's livelihood, so they turned to sorcerous methods to solve the problem. They first experimented with creating copies, but found that was too costly, so their next idea was to create fish chimeras---specifically, to make a giant version of the fish by combining it with a water dragon, a Ragon fishman, and some bamboo shoots (for flavor).

"I... I see..." I gave a vague reply.

Setting the bamboo shoots aside for now, I had questions about who, exactly, knew what a water dragon or Ragon fishman tasted like, and why, but I let it slide since the answer would probably be terrifying.

Dubbing their creation the "Macro Croff", they released it into the ocean, where it quickly grew far beyond its predicted size and became a nuisance. Then they heard that Lina was on her way to the city...

"If Lina Inverse, so famous for having only two modes: eating and rampaging, found out that she couldn't get croff fish, she'd go berserk, no mistake!"

"Hey!"

"It was clear as day she'd cause massive damage to the city! The Macro Croff wouldn't even compare!

So the only thing we could do was fool her with some imitation fish so that she wouldn't notice anything was odd, and have her leave peacefully---and fast!"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" I screamed. Quantum jumped and broke out in a cold sweat, finally realizing what he'd let slip running his mouth.

"Uh, no, when I said we were going to fool you, I meant in a good way, not a bad way!"

"How could I possibly take anything you just said in a 'good way'? I was sure you were going to hire me to take out the Macro Croff, or something like that."

"Hire you? Oh, no, we certainly wouldn't do that!" Quantum said in response to my grumbling, waving his hands frantically and continuing, "If we asked you to do something like that, the whole place would be wrecked---er, I mean, wrecked in a good way, of course!"

... Does this guy think that he can redeem anything by following it with "in a good way"?

Lina restrains her anger, not wanting to prove the sorcerers right, and argues that the rumors about her are overblown; it's just that there are times when she has to resort to violence to keep a situation from getting even worse. Quantum immediately asks her to take care of the Macro Croff for them, and Lina agrees, in return for a fee and a full-course meal of croff fish.

Two days later, she sets out before dawn on a fishing boat, her plan to have an entire fleet of boats fishing to draw out the Macro Croff, then attack. After a while spent quietly waiting, the fisherman piloting the boat suddenly begins putting up his tools and tells her that her target has appeared. Although Lina can't see anything yet, she trusts that he knows what he's talking about from experience and orders him to head back to the port like he normally would. Chanting a spell under her breath, she notices signs of panic from the other boats and the surrounding wildlife.

A dark shape appears in the water, heading for the fleet, and when it jumps, Lina fires off a Dragon Slave. In the split second before it hits, the fish tears some scales from its body, throws them into the air, and the the spell hits them instead. Lina can't believe her eyes.

After the explosion, the fish is nowhere to be seen, and the fisherman assumes he was killed, but Lina knows better.

That evening, Lina returns to the inn she's staying at, since there's nothing else to do---everything closes and opens early, to fit the fishermen's schedule. She analyzes what happened earlier. A Dragon Slave will naturally target whatever it's used against, but the Macro Croff managed to fool it by creating another target made of pieces of itself---the scales. Thinking up a defense like that would naturally require a high level of intelligence, not to mean knowledge the fish couldn't possibly have, so Lina finally writes it off as an instinctive reaction that coincidentally worked.

However it came about, the fish now knows how to defend against a Dragon Slave, and Lina is sure it wasn't killed, since no body was found. She brainstorms, trying to figure out how to kill it. Anything that would leave a body behind is out, since she suspects that if anything is left, they'll have it cooked and served to her instead of the promised croff fish---she doesn't want to eat some weird chimera.

Lina's thoughts are interrupted by a knock. She gets up to answer the door, wondering who it could be when the city is mostly asleep, and stops when she realizes the sound came from the opposite direction, where the window is. She decides that it must have been a bird or something, because she's on the second floor. Then she hears it again.

Then it hit me.

Normally, no one would ever use Levitation and show up for a visit outside your window, but unfortunately, I have an acquaintance who's anything but normal.

Lina sighs and opens the shutters, solely because she knows said acquaintance will force her way in if Lina doesn't. She is greeted instead by the sight of a gigantic fish head, and the Macro Croff apologizes with flawless politeness for disturbing her. As she stands there, dumbfounded, he tells her that he's aware that she would likely kill him if they had another confrontation, so he's there to explain his position and hopefully find a peaceful solution.

"You can talk," was the first thing out of my mouth after my brain finally began working again.

"Yes, it's a hobby of mine," the Macro Croff replied.

A hobby. Okay then.

He tells Lina that he met the fish of his dreams, but her mother refused to let them marry because he isn't a mackerel. In the end, they managed to get her to agree, but only on the condition that he stop the humans from fishing.

He has taken care not to kill anyone, since he feels grateful to the humans who created him, whatever their intentions might have been, plus...

"If I took human lives, the hatred would only lead to greater resentment, and in the end, possibly even all-out war between man and mackerel."

Yeah, pretty sure that's not gonna happen.

At the end of his story, he begs Lina to leave him alone, bowing his head. She thinks for a moment, and then tells him he's not serious enough about his love. She points out that he's fighting a battle that can never be won permanently, and that even if she gives up and leaves, they'll just hire another sorcerer or warrior to kill him. His girlfriend's mother was obviously just trying to keep him occupied, not give him a chance. Lina recommends that the Macro Croff just run away with his love, since she wouldn't want him to die fighting humans.

I could see the moon and stars in the night sky.

I'm standing here, giving advice on romance to a giant fish outside my window, in the dead of night. What's wrong with this picture?

Pushing aside questions about what was wrong with my life, I continued...

The Macro Croff agrees and leaves.

The next day, Lina and Quantum gather the city's fishermen to tell them it's safe to go out on the ocean. The men are naturally doubtful, of course, and while Lina is trying to persuade them, the Macro Croff suddenly splashes down in front of them. Lina demands to know what in the world is going on, and he tells her that his mother-in-law found out what he was planning and tossed him all the way to the port. Everyone is shocked to find that not only can the fish speak, Lina seems to know him. Annoyed, Lina gives a one-sentence explanation, which they have no choice but to accept.

Lina asks what kind of fish the Macro Croff's mother-in-law is, and he replies that she's a mackerel, of course, just a bit larger than usual, as they can see for themselves. Lina searches the water for a giant shadow, but sees nothing. A fisherman recalls that his grandfather once told him there was some enormous creature out there. They then notice that the island looks like it's moving, and the Macro Croff confirms that the "island" is really the tip of her fin.

"You said she was a mackerel! A MACKEREL! Not some weird monster!"

"She's always been on the large side. She told me she was bullied as a child because of it."

"That is not the issue!"

Quantum points out that fish will keep growing as long as they live, and that the Demon's Ocean isn't far away. Lina is skeptical of the idea that Mazoku influence is the cause, but everyone else accepts it.

Leaving aside the question of how the mackerel came to be, Lina prepares to take her out, but the Macro Croff begs her to stop and threatens to fight back if she's killed. They're interrupted by a single fisherman, who suggests that maybe they could just stop catching mackerel.

Problem solved! Humanity and mackerels establish a peace treaty, with the humans agreeing to release any mackerels accidentally caught, and the mackerels agreeing to raise croff fish for them. Lina gets her reward, and everyone is happy. Except the croff fish.

Notes

Not much, except that the Macro Croff is actually called the Croff Macro, but that doesn't quite work in English.

#slayers #slayers smash #slayers smash v.5

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pancakpop · 7 years ago

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b l i n d s p o t || wen junhui

summary: as an assassin junhui knows the many rules in the game; assume nothing, trust your gut, don’t ever look back—chances are you aren’t alone and never become vulnerable. but with you he lets some of the rules go out the window. who would have thought that a man like him would love a person like you. [unedited]

genre: fluff, angst, humor || warning: foul language, verbal fighting

pairing: assassin!junhui x gender neutral reader

masterlist

Agent Wen Junhui / Location: home / Time: 14:37:17 / Assignment: none

If you truly knew how much blood he had on his hands; the blood of the innocent and guilty or the decisions that he’s made when it came to his job you would surely hate him.

You would turn your back on him in fear and leave him all alone in this cold world, nothing being front and center of his universe anymore. He was too attached to you from the beginning; wanting to hear your voice every single day, wanting to feel you underneath him. His teacher had said to him ‘vulnerability makes a man weak and when a man is weak he is unable to do nothing’.

Vulnerable he was whenever you touched him in the right places. You made him weak and at times he was bitter at you for making a man like him feel things that no else could make him feel. Not the women and men that—before you of course—he had sexual adventures with, and certainly not his own family whom he hasn’t reached out to in months after that explosive holiday get together.

It was two in the morning when he got back from his two day assignment which he had completed successfully as always. The blood of his target dried on his hand which he waited until he reached home to wash off.

You were almost always ’asleep’ by this time whenever Junhui told you not to wait up but that was lie, he knew it and you knew that he knew that you were simply laying in bed with the small light in the bathroom on so that you could read or do whatever you normally did.

You weren’t playing pretend today, not when you missed your husband so much and your head hurt and you needed some water to flush down the ibuprofen.

“Oh you’re up.” Junhui smiles at you softly as you walk over to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. It fades just as quickly as it came once he notices that you look like shit. “You okay?”

“My head just hurts it’s nothing. How was work did you find something useful?”

All you knew about him was that he was spy for the government and that his agency dubbed him their most talented and valuable spy and that’s why you went days and weeks without seeing him sometimes. You loved what he did, you loved that he was actively saving lives and trying to make a change in the world.

If only you knew.

Junhui massaged the back of his neck trying to get that knot out. “Yeah it was good, I’m just so fucking tired and hungry.”

“Do they not feed you? Tsk tsk I’m going to have to talk to your boss about that, go take a shower while I make something, you smell.”

“I love you so much.”

“I know.”

He chuckled, “brat.”

“You don’t complain in the bedroom. Go take a shower seriously you smell like sweat, grease and fuckery.”

“How does fuckery even smell like?”

“You. Go before you stink up my kitchen.”

“Your kitchen? You seem to forget who built this house in the first place.”

“You built it I’ll give you that. But you built it for me so it’s my kitchen. Junhui go freshen up—“

“I want a hug and a kiss first.” He reaches for you but you step back with your hand putting distance between the two of you.

You shook your head, “you must have lost your damn mind I swear.” That still doesn’t stop him as he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms tight to make sure you wouldn’t go anywhere. It was a struggle at first given that you were a strong person by default but he was even stronger.

“I told you I was going to get my hug.”

“Jokes on you because you because you didn’t get a kiss.”

“Oh honey I’m going to be getting more than that. You smell a little rough now as well so join me in the shower.”

It shocked you when you saw Junhui still laying in bed with you the next morning. Most days you found yourself alone while he went into work early or ran around the neighborhood a few times to get in some morning cardio. But there he was sleeping, the most peaceful state you’ve seen him in. His work was stressing him out, it was causing him to grow strands of gray, worry lines appearing lightly on his face. He was too young to be looking as if the world had beat him to be ground again and again.

But that’s what happened. And it was not good, not good at all.

You debated on making breakfast or not, finally settling on reheating leftovers from earlier in the week. You left a plate for him on the counter not bothering to wake him up because he needed those extra hours of rest and you were use to eating alone when he was away.

“What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk...urgently.”

“Not right here.”

You watched your husband and the other man walk around the house and into the backyard. Staying hidden just as Jun told you to you crept to the window that overlooked your small yard, you crouched down making sure your face and head was out of sight.

It was wrong to pry but when a man shows up at your home in the middle of the afternoon to speak about urgent matters of course you wanted to know as much as him. Was your husband in danger? Were you in danger? What the fuck was going on?

“What the fuck happened now?”

“He knows Wen. He fucking knows everything.”

“Knows what.”

“That the agency took his wife and children out, more specifically he knows that it was you. He’s coming for your head.”

“I see. Thanks for stopping by I’ll show you out.”

“Man what the hell are you talking about? What we going to do now?”

“We aren’t going to do anything. I’ll handle this my way.”

Night fell and you managed to act normal despite figuring out that your husband- the same man that claimed that he was a spy who was helping the country and saving people was the same man who was possibly responsible for countless of murders of innocent people. For what?

A few extra cash.

You wanted to speak nothing to him of it, afraid that if you did say something it would end on his terms and not yours. But even as you hoped to lay down and forget about everything by sleeping that knife of curiosity kept stabbing you and stabbing you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“What was that man doing here earlier?”

Junhui turned towards you, “it was nothing important-”

“He said he had to speak to you urgently. So what was so urgent?”

“It was work related,” he rubbed his eyes. “Go to sleep.”

“I don’t think I can sleep knowing that my husband is a lying piece of shit.” You hadn’t mean to say that of course, but you were angry at the world, angry with yourself for not figuring it out sooner. But most importantly you were angry at him for getting the two of you in this mess. “You’ve been lying to me for years, our entire marriage is built on a lie. So yes I want to fucking know what he said to you -even though I know- because I needed you tell me the truth for what and-”

“Not everything is a lie; this marriage isn’t a lie, my love for you isn’t a lie and yes I should have been honest but who the fuck tells their spouse that they’re an assassin! Who does that because I don’t so you can go ahead and punish me for it!” He turned his back to you, his whole body shaking. “I don’t care cause I’m going to sleep.”

You hadn’t thought about how sad his eyes were until now. How hurt he sounded when he defended the fact that your love for each other was real. You were the happiness in his life and it killed him to think that you were rethinking everything. It killed you to finally see that things weren’t as colorful as he had made it out to be.

But there was no rewind button to set things right, and if there was you would press it with no hesitation.

- Tee

#wen junhui #jun #jun seventeen #jun imagines #jun x reader #assassin!jun #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #fluff #angst

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queercapwriting · 7 years ago

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Hi! I don't know if your taking prompts or not so feel free to ignore this if not but I I love this trope lol. Here we go: Sanvers' first house. Maggie watches Alex mow the lawn and gets all hot and bothered bc her sweaty, dirty wife is hot af. Fun things begin if you catch my drift :)

They’ve talked about wanting a lifetime of firsts.

Alex was the first to bring up a house, because frankly, the idea had always terrified Maggie.

She’d been so used to running for so long.

Running toward safety; running for survival; running because she didn’t know how else to exist; running because it was habit; running because she didn’t know how to stop.

But Alex made her want to stop.

Well, not stop, not exactly.

Because they would always be running, both as individuals and together.

Because with Alex?

With Alex, she wanted to both run and be stable; with Alex, freedom and security weren’t contradictory. They were complimentary.

They were perfect.

So they buy a house, because when Alex tells her she wants that to be part of their lifetime of firsts, she cries just like she did when Alex proposed.

Because she’s shocked, because she wants it. God, she wants it.

So they drink wine on balconies and they lay in each other’s laps and they research and they make lists and they fantasize.

How many rooms, what kind of style, location, location, location, rankings of whether it’s more important to have a garage or a pool, discussions of ‘do we ever really use the kitchen anyway’ and ‘yes, babe, if J’onn permits it, we can have a separate space for your weapons.’

Buying a house involves a lot of firsts, and they both revel in each one.

But this one? This particular first?

Is going to be fun.

“Danvers, you grew up on the beach, you’ve never – “

“There’s grass in Midvale, Maggie.”

“Okay, but there’s like, only grass in Blue Springs, Danvers.”

“And why would I make my beautiful wife feel like she’s back in Nebraska, huh? Come on, babe, it’ll be fun. I don’t mind, honestly.”

Maggie tilts her head and squints and sighs.

“You gonna wear that?” she asks, gesturing lightly at Alex’s tank top and cut offs and boots.

“Problem?” Alex asks.

Maggie tries to swallow, but her throat is too dry. “Nope. I mean… if you really don’t mind? To be honest, I always hated cutting the grass – “

Alex positively squeals with excitement. “Excellent! I’ll be outside, then!” She leans in and kisses her lips, and Maggie wants to deepen the kiss, wants to pull Alex into her body and never let go, but Alex is out the door before Maggie can even open her eyes.

“Nerd,” she mutters under her breath with a smile.

“Takes one to know one!” Alex calls over her shoulder.

“My wife has superhuman hearing,” Maggie murmurs, still grinning.

“No I don’t, you’re just predictable!” Alex shouts again, this time over the roar of the lawn mower coming to life.

Maggie chuckles and shakes her head and wanders into the kitchen – their kitchen – to do the dishes from Kara’s homemade brunch this morning.

She doesn’t expect to feel like she’s just gotten an electric shock, particle accelerator explosion style, when she looks out the window above the sink to see her wife looking… like that.

Because it’s only been ten minutes, but it’s absurdly hot outside, and Alex must have fished a bandanna out of the garage because now it’s tied around her head, stained slightly in sweat, just as Alex’s calves are getting stained slightly with dirt, with the remains of sheared blades of grass.

She has to concentrate to put the plate she’d been washing down so she doesn’t just drop it, break it.

Because hot damn, her wife is… well, hot.

“Damn, Danvers,” she rasps to herself, watching as Alex wipes sweat away from her forehead with a shrug of her shoulder. Maggie rinses and dries her hands, eyes still transfixed on the sight out their window, and checks the weather on her phone.

Yep. Over 90 degrees.

Which has everything to do with how sweaty and dirty Alex has gotten in so short a time, but absolutely nothing to do with what she’s doing to Maggie’s body right now.

Well, maybe it has a little something to do with it. Because it’s the sweat and dirt that are driving her out of her mind.

She tries to gulp, but her throat is too dry. She grabs a glass, fills it, takes a sip or two – eyes still focused on her wife – refills it, and tears her eyes away from Alex for a moment.

She bites her lip and looks down at her own body. She checks her fly and shimmies around slightly so her shirt is positioned just so, runs her fingers through her hair so it falls around her face just so.

She clears her throat and she heads to the doorway, immediately regretting not calling Alex inside instead, because the heat compared with the house’s central air hits her hard.

“Thirsty, Danvers?” she calls, leaning on their doorway like she’s not already burning up.

Both because of the temperature and because of the sweat and dirt clinging to her wife’s body like someone painted the stains onto her skin and clothes.

She has to shout again, because Alex doesn’t hear her. But when she does, her grin is so wide, so earnest, that Maggie melts.

And it definitely has nothing to do with the sun.

Alex flips off the mower, trots over and takes the glass gratefully but hesitates before kissing Maggie.

“I’m kinda gross,” she gives a disclaimer when Maggie frowns, which makes Maggie bite her lip as she drags her eyes slowly up and down Alex’s body.

“Gross isn’t the word I’d use,” she rasps, and Alex nearly chokes on her water at the tone in her voice.

“Yeah?” she splutters, trying so hard to be smooth that Maggie lets it slide.

“Mmhmm,” Maggie takes the glass from her and kneels slowly to set it down on the porch. She runs her fingers over Alex’s lower legs, and Alex’s shivers as her fingernails scrape through the sweat on her shins, ghosting over without actually touching the dirt on her calves.

“Maggie, we’re… we’re outside,” she croaks, and Maggie stands immediately.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I – “

“No, hey, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. This… this is literally why we got such a private back yard, I just… I was flirting, I’m sorry, I didn’t want… I didn’t want you to stop.”

Maggie tilts her head. “Babe, you sure?” she asks, and Alex backhands sweat off her face, leaving a streak of dirt there that just turns Maggie on harder, as she nods eagerly.

Maggie nods, too, as she kneels again, slower this time. “Change your mind at any point, Danvers,” she tells her, and Alex smiles.

“So uh… gross isn’t the word you’d use. What uh… what word would you use?”

“Fucking sexy,” Maggie asks with her eyes before unzipping Alex’s cut-off jeans.

“That’s two words,” Alex wheezes as she nods before getting impatient and unzipping her cut-offs herself.

“Someone’s eager,” Maggie chuckles, and Alex tosses her head back and moans.

“Both of us, I’d say,” she hisses as Maggie tugs her jeans down and her underwear aside.

“May I?” she asks, and they both chuckle as Alex, in her eagerness to lift one of her legs onto Maggie’s shoulder, forgets that her shorts are still sort of on, and nearly falls.

“Mmm, maybe I should go down on you later,” Maggie teases, and something flashes in Alex’s eyes, then.

Something Maggie didn’t want to ask her for, because she knows this mood of Alex’s is somewhat temperamental, but god, has seeing her like this made her want it.

“What, Danvers?” she asks breathlessly, even though she already knows.

“Stand up?” Alex asks, and her voice is already ragged, already wrecked from the sight of Maggie on her knees, wanting to go down on her.

Maggie stands.

“Turn around,” Alex demands, and Maggie hisses with pleasure because she knows Alex’s demands are always questions.

“Yes,” she whispers, “but kiss me first?”

So Alex does. Alex does, and Maggie swoons, pressing her body against the damp heat that is Alex, flush against the barely-there restraint and raw need that is her wife.

“You’re so damn hot,” she murmurs into Alex’s mouth, against Alex’s tongue, and when Alex moans, Maggie pulls back.

“You can turn me around now,” she invites, and Alex spins her around and presses her against the back wall of their house so fast they both need to pause, need to breathe each other in.

“You good?” Alex makes sure, and Maggie grinds her ass back into Alex as answer.

“Yeah. You?” she confirms, and Alex answers by bracing herself against the wall with one dirt-stained hand just above Maggie’s head, by putting her other hand on Maggie’s waist and pulling her even closer into her body.

“Fuck,” Maggie murmurs, and Alex grins into her shoulder blades.

“Exactly,” she husks, and Maggie whines and grinds back into her, finding a rough and needy rhythm that isn’t exactly a first, but is exactly perfect.

“So I can’t exactly touch you right now,” Alex tightens her grip on Maggie’s hip, on her jeans. “All that dirt and sweat that seems to turn you on so much.”

Maggie moans and Alex’s hand on her hip, Alex’s body against the back of her thighs, her ass, stabilize her more than the ground or the wall she’s pressed against ever could.

“Danvers,” she manages.

“Color?” Alex checks.

“Green as that damn grass,” Maggie chokes, and they both chuckle.

“So since I can’t touch you like I want to right now, you wanna be a good girl for me and do me a favor?”

“Fuck, Danvers.”

“Is that a yes, Sawyer?”

“Yes, fuck, Alex, yes.”

“Good girl. Can you touch yourself for me, Mags? I wanna make you come so damn hard, fucking you like this, holding you like this. The backyard of our new house… who knew lawn mowing could be so… fuck, that’s right, baby,” Alex pants as Maggie shifts so she’s braced on the wall with only one hand, slipping the other down her jeans.

“You good, Ally?” Maggie gasps, because Alex goes quiet, her breathing ragged, at the sight in front of her, in her arms.

“Perfect, Maggie, yeah. I love you so much,” she tells her, and it’s that, more than anything, that tosses Maggie over the edge.

Alex holds her steady and whispers how much she loves her as she rides out her waves.

“I love you too,” Maggie sighs, her forehead against the back of Alex’s hand, which she’d shifted to prevent Maggie from hitting her head against the wall.

“So you were saying something about fucking me yourself?” Maggie asks as Alex kisses her shoulders, her back, her hair, the nape of her neck.

Alex groans softly. “And you were saying something about going down on me,” Alex grins into Maggie’s skin, and Maggie moans like she does when she tries amazing food.

“Shower?” she turns her face to ask, her eyes still hazy from her orgasm, but glistening with excitement all the same.

“Oh yes,” Alex grins, and they’re not sure if they’re tugging each other up the stairs or racing up the stairs, but either way, their clothes come off somewhere along the way as they make out and giggle and shriek and tickle their way through their first house.

#sanvers #sanvers smut #domestic sanvers #sanvers minific #domestic sanvers smut #needs to be a thing

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