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thomasschabot · 1 year

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here comes your man

elias pettersson x director!fem!reader

great loves come around only once in a lifetime, and if you’re lucky enough they come back

word count: 3.6k

warnings: cursing, light allusion to sexual activity, alcohol consumption

a/n: this is my piece for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten in @antoineroussel’s winter fic exchange!! i hope you like it andi, i had a blast creating this angsty little world that eventually gets wrapped up with a hopeful little bow 🤍 as always, a million hugs and kisses go out to demi for organizing another majorly successful event!!!! props to @matthewtkachuk i guess for proofreading 0.5 seconds before i posted (love u b xx)

⭑⭒⭑

He’s impossible to forget, no matter how much you want to.

Elias Pettersson was the love of your life from the moment you laid eyes on him. It was a normal day, filled with redoing shots and redoing their blocking over and over because athletes are notoriously horrible listeners, until he came in and rocked your world as soon as he stepped in front of the camera to introduce herself. All kind eyes and confident smirks, Elias shook your hand and invited you to get drinks after finishing up so the pair of you could get to know each other better, seeing as you’ll also be following up north in a few weeks to shoot another promotional piece. The night had ended well into the morning, and you were inseparable from that moment on. Everyone around you was pleasantly surprised, knowing how much it took for you to let people in, but something about Elias just made you feel safe.

Things progressed quickly, but naturally, and eventually you moved in with him because his salary allowed for a much more prolific and comfortable lifestyle. You fit together naturally, like two sides of the same coin, and you loved him with every fibre of your being. Elias reciprocated, protecting you fiercely from overbearing Canucks fans and doing everything he could to show just how much he cared. Moments where hockey didn’t take precedence were rare, but he made them so special every single one was impossible to forget. Brock and Nils did their best to keep teasing from the team and other family members to a minimum but neither of you minded much — you were so in sync and had each other to get through whatever was going to get thrown at you.

Everything changed after the Canucks failed to make the playoffs for three consecutive years, though you understood why to a point. While the situation had been hard on you, watching him dissolve into a frustrated mess, it was excruciating on Elias — after all, he was the face of a rapidly sinking franchise. You did all you could to support him through the ups and down, taking time off work when he needed extra care and making sure he didn’t do anything that could cause too much stress and decrease the value of his sparse point production. Elias wasn’t shy about letting you know much he wanted to be back on top, picking fights when you would return from all-day shoots and giving you the cold shoulder for days when he returned from lost road trips. Despite his pain and hostility, you thought the pair of you were working through the issues, and you had been waiting for the perfect time to do the conventional and pop the question to your love.

The plan disintegrated after Elias left, crumbled like dust in the wind. You had been away on a promotional shoot with the rest of the team to hopefully quell discontented fans, with only him and a handful of Canucks staying in Vancouver to focus on recovering fully from their injuries before scattering to every corner of the world. No one had alerted you to his strange behavior, his recession into himself — whether it had been intentional or not you’re still not sure. When you entered the condo upon your return to the city there was nothing but silence and darkness instead of Elias’s laughter and excitement bouncing off the walls. He didn’t leave a note — just packed a bag and left. You tried to call him, but the number was out of service, and no one in his family responded to your panicked messages in haphazard Swedish. Elias’s close friends in Vancouver provided no details, and you were forced to live in a paid-off unit that used to belong to the one solid person in your life but now belongs to you. You assume he came back to the city at the start of the season, but you begged for a transfer to another department and no longer work on the sports media side of the firm, so you’ve got no way to be sure since you vowed to never engage in hockey again.

Time certainly hasn’t made it easier, despite your friends endearing statistics to prove the common saying, and you spend hours every day reliving what you once had. He’s everywhere — travel mug in your office from when he used to slip away from training to eat lunch with you and the commercials you did with him over the years replaying on television so you can never escape him and the love you’ve lost. He’s still in the apartment you once shared, trinkets and books and clothes left for you to pack up and donate. Elias Pettersson made it difficult for you to move on, no matter how desperately you want to.

⭒⭑⭒

“I call dibs on the left side!” Elias shouts, pushing past you and running full speed into the hotel room. It’s All-Star Weekend, and you’ve joined your boyfriend in sunny Southern California, ready to soak up some rays when not inside the chilly arena. You needed a break from work after months of near constant shoots, and Elias was all too willing to enjoy more time by your side, even if he technically had a job to do.

You frown, upset with him for picking the side you always sleep on. “But I always sleep on the left,” you whine, before realizing you sound like a child. Instead, you square your shoulders and enter the room while doing the best you can do pretend like it doesn’t bother you.

Elias laughs when he sees you, bright and bubbly in stark contrast to your broodiness. “Oh baby,” he coos, closing the distance between your bodies and wrapping his toned arms around your waist, “I just want to be able to protect you, stay between you and the door. These young guys are like dogs and I don’t trust them.”

His concern is endearing, and you’ve never been great at staying angry with Elias. Any and all negative emotions vanish the moment he kisses you. It’s tender, loving, but with a gentle buzz of electricity humming underneath to let you know her his intentions. You’d risk your life a thousand times over if it meant you got to kiss Elias whenever you wanted.

“Okay,” you sigh breathily when he finally pulls away, breathless and moving to deadbolt the door, as if preparing for a night with no distractions whatsoever.

“Okay?”

You look at him confused, as if he couldn’t have possibly forgotten what made you upset in the first place. “You can sleep on the left side of the bed, but only if I get to be the big spoon while we watch our show.”

Elias smiles. “That’s my girl.”

⭑⭒⭑

You’d do anything to have him call dibs on part of the room right now.

Instead, you open your hotel room door to find two double beds placed a perfect distance apart. You’re bunking with Emily, your new assistant, and while she’s friendly enough and the two of you get along well, she’s not the one you want to be sharing a hotel room with in Wisconsin in the middle of January. She isn’t the one you want to brush your teeth with and make small talk about the upcoming shoot with.

There’s no real reason for you to slam your duffel on the floor beside the bed left to you, but you do. Elias isn’t here, isn’t coming back, and you need to get the fuck over yourself. Knowing doesn’t make it any easier, and when you face plant into the stiff mattress and let out a gravelly scream Emily gets incredibly concerned. She’s noticed you’ve been off since arriving at the hotel — it wouldn’t take anyone remotely close to you to realize something’s got you down in a major way.

“What’s the matter?” she asks tentatively, worried her words might set you off further. “The idiots we’re going to film over the next couple of days stressing you out?”

Emily doesn’t see you roll your eyes because they’re tucked so close to the blanket it’s suffocating, but you can’t help it. Of course she’d think your issue was the job you both came here to do — she didn’t know Elias besides him being a superstar athlete or the fact you once loved him so much it made it difficult to breathe when he was around. You remind yourself it isn’t her fault and manage to muster up a response.

“It’s nothing, I swear. Sorry for making you think there was an issue, especially about the shoot. I’m excited to do it.”

There’s no way she bought the lousy excuse, but Emily is also smart enough to leave well enough alone. If she hears you sobbing in the shower she doesn’t mention it. When you eventually step out of the bathroom and walk towards the left bed Emily gave you without a fight, you can’t help but notice she doesn’t watch television to unwind. Instead, she’s set up a puzzle on the small coffee table in the room and is working in complete silence. It was something you did with Elias as a sort of grounding exercise, to distract you both from the horrors of the real world, and you’re confused why it isn’t common practice.. The silence in the room suddenly makes your ears ring and you cover them in an attempt to block out the pain and loneliness the sound represents because Elias isn’t ever going to pressure you into watching some fishing show ever again.

She isn’t clueless and refuses to believe there isn’t something seriously wrong with you when you refuse to even look in her direction. “Okay, what the hell is going on? If you don’t want to room with me just say so. They’re other crew members I can stay with, and they’ll probably be much nicer than you.”

“No,” you sigh, so exhausted by the weight of your emotions, “I don’t have an issue with bunking with you. This is just the first time I’ve had to stay in a hotel since breaking up with my boyfriend, and we spent a lot of time together in rooms pretty much identical to this one over the years. I guess I’m struggling more than I thought.”

Emily nods like she understands, and while you don’t think she really gets the gravity of your confession, it’s nice to know someone is there for you. When she asks about him and what he was like you laugh — how do you encompass Elias Pettersson into a single sentence? The task seems impossible but Emily is patient, letting you talk as much as you want. Once the words run out and you’ve cried enough tears to fill a swimming pool the two of you turn out the lights and try to sleep. There’s still an Elias sized hole in your soul, but having someone not skirt around her in conversation because they’re afraid to see your face fall is refreshing.

⭒⭑⭒

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You close your mouth, open it, and close it again, but no sound comes out. Elias is standing on the doorstep in a sharp all-black suit, red pocket square contrasting the darkness and knocking the breath out of your lungs. He had insisted on getting ready for your firm’s yearly charity gala separately, to ‘keep the mystery alive’, and you’re glad he left early this afternoon to get ready at Brock’s. If he hadn’t, neither of you would have made it to the event

“Shut up,” you grumble, pulling him inside and kissing him with the fire of a thousand suns. “You look like a classical sculpture.”

Elias giggles, runs a hand through his hair to tousle it to perfection, and reconnects your lips. “Me? This old thing? You’re the real smokeshow here, baby.”

The deep green long-sleeve dress you found in the back of your closest pales in comparison to what he’s wearing, but the way Elias is eyeing you makes it seem as though you’re wearing a tiara gifted personally by the Queen. A warmth creeps up the back of your neck and wraps around to your cheeks, fueling the fire for Elias to continue to marvel at you.

“Come on, you,” you sigh, looping an arm around Elias’s waist and leading him out the door. “We were supposed to pick up my boss nearly fifteen minutes ago.”

He doesn’t speak, knows you’re right, and follows you willingly. Elas does the driving, always has, and when he opens up your door he steals another quick kiss. Your laughter bounces off the roof of the car the entire way to the next destination.

⭑⭒⭑

The knock doesn’t belong to Elias. There’s no plan for him to accompany you to the gala this year. Hell, you don’t even know if he’s in the country. The Canucks schedule no longer takes up space in your mind given the split, and you don’t really even know if it’s technically hockey season anymore. You know all that, and yet you can’t stop yourself from hoping Elias will be on the other side of the door when you open it. He isn’t — it’s your friend James, looking incredibly dapper in a tuxedo that must be from his high school prom but somehow still fits. A corsage rests gingerly in his hand, and you could cry at the sight of it. The small bouquet is made of lilies and baby’s breath, known by everyone as Elias’s favourite flowers because they remind him of home.

“I thought you might want a piece of him with you tonight, even though it hurts a lot,” he says tenderly, and slips it onto your wrist. Tears well in your eyes, but they’re mostly the happy kind. Of course you wanted Elias with you, in any capacity you could get though your romance has long since gone cold, and the fact James didn’t hesitate to make it happen makes you cherish him more. Before his hand can leave yours you raise them both towards your face, placing a chaste kiss to the back of his in thanks.

He’s patient as you lock up and opens the car door for you like a true gentleman. Though you adore James Taylor and would probably follow him to war if he asked, he isn’t the person you want beside you. Your heart and soul yearns for Elias in a way no one else will ever understand. It’s sort of ridiculous that you’re still hoping because there’s been no contact for nearly ten months, but you’re a hopeless romantic at heart and want him to come back so badly. James doesn’t pretend to share your pain, which you’re incredibly thankful for, and is the only person in your life who isn’t pressuring you to get past the monumental loss that was Elias leaving.

“I miss him so much,” you sigh when the car stops at a red light.

There’s a beat of silence before he responds, as if he’s letting you feel just how much you miss your long-lost love at this very moment. “I know, kiddo. I know.” When you turn to face him, James offers a smile and turns the radio up a little louder. It takes a moment for the sound to reach your ears, but when it does you begin to cry again.

Through the crackling speakers of the old truck is the song you and Elias shared your first kiss to. It had happened on the make-shift dance floor of the wrap party for the third shoot the pair of you collaborated on , in front of everyone, but it had been absolutely perfect. You still remember the cheering from Quinn and a couple other teammates he brought along, and your friends’ fond smiles because they were relieved you finally let your guard down enough to love somebody. Time eclipses you, and you’re thrown back to that night for the rest of the song. You’re a little shaken up when the car jerks into park at the event space, and James gives you a moment to compose yourself before he leads you inside and stays close the rest of the night, always there to cheer you up when the loneliness begins to hover a little too close.

⭒⭑⭒

The years pass, torturously slow at first but then at a rapid-fire pace, and the pain of losing Elias turns into a dull ache that only flares occasionally. A passion project that started in your living room turned you away from sports related content and into the world of the silver screen, relocating you to Los Angeles and into one of the most in-demand directors for action movies that manage to still pack a gut-wrenching punch. Rarely do you have a spare moment to think these days, and almost never do you let the thoughts drift to your ex-boyfriend.

It’s been nearly five years since he walked out, smashed your life to smithereens without a second thought, and while you’ve healed from the trauma of it all there’s still the occasional moment where something reminds you of Elias and it makes it hard to breathe. Tonight, it’s the sight of a hockey game on the television of the dive bar you frequently haunt when you’re home for more than forty-eight hours. Shallow puff of air float through your mouth as you look for him on the screen, realizing that it’s a stupid idea because Vancouver isn’t even playing. You then remember how much fun you had watching Elias’s games, and you curse him for taking something joyous away from you. Another round of drinks is ordered, the bartender eyeing you wearily but complying, and you wallow in silence for longer than you’ll ever admit to anyone.

Hours pass and midnight is rapidly approaching. While you don’t have an early morning, not having to be at a table read until the late afternoon, you know you can’t hold your liquor the way you could when you were younger and staying out much later is going to cause more hassle than it’s worth.

“Could I trouble you for one more and the bill?”

It’s getting increasingly loud in the dive, and you have to yell to be heard. However, it still isn’t working, and the bar staff can’t seem to understand what it is you want. Damn them for making you spend more time here. You clear your throat, about to try again, when a voice you never thought you’d hear again speaks from behind.

“Combine her tab with mine and close it out, if that isn’t too much to ask?”

The hairs along the nape of your neck bristle. “I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much.” You refuse to turn around, knowing that if you do your resolve will crumble. Anger is the primary emotion when you think about Elias, but you also miss him so goddamn much. Never getting any closure makes things tricky.

A chuckle fans out behind you. “Never said you couldn’t. I do, however, think it’s the very least I could do for you.”

It’s true, and you let him know it. Still facing away from him, you don’t utter another word, even after the final drinks are brought around and everything is squared away. Elias doesn’t push you, knows your stony resolve still after all the time away. The silence is deafening as you wait for him to finish his beer before downing your cocktail. Not a word is uttered between the two of you, but the air is slowly losing its tension.

Eventually you turn towards him, haphazard and full of spite, though it’s lowering considerably. You hate the way he destroyed your life when he left, and you hate the way looking at him in the dim makes your heart soften considerably.

“I hate you.”

“You should.”

“Are you going to apologize?” you ask, unsure why it wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth.

Elias cocks a brow. “Will it make anything better?”

“I suppose not.”

Silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it isn’t like it used to be either, and you aren’t exactly sure what to do next. Elias decides for you. “I’d like to maybe work towards being friends again,” he speaks cautiously, as if he’s terrified of your reaction. “I don’t know many people in the city, or in southern California for that matter, and seeing the occasional friendly face would help out a lot.”

He explains that he was traded to Los Angeles in the off-season, and that though he knew you were around sometimes he didn’t want to reach out after all the pain you experienced because of him. You like that he doesn’t try to apologize or make excuses, just acknowledges he did a horrible thing and is content to sit with the consequences for the rest of his life.

You consider his proposal, thoroughly mull it over in your head, but you can’t find any logical reason to turn Elias down. Your parents taught you to give everyone a second chance, and it seems like you’ll be in complete control of whatever happens.

“We can do that. Just slowly.”

A nod of understanding comes from him, and with that he stands from the bar stool he’s occupied for the last little while. “I’ll see you around then. I kept my old number for convenience, so just give me a call when you’re ready.”

You nod, mimicking Elias’s previous action, and offer a short wave as he retreats into the busying street. Los Angeles is a city that comes alive in the night, and you can’t help but wonder if the universe sent Elias to you for a second chance because it knew just how much you still loved him. Maybe you find yourself hoping this proposed friendship drifts back to the way things were, but you’ll never tell a soul.

⭑⭒⭑

enjoy this fic? give it a reblog :) <3

#elias pettersson imagine #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson fic #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #by the skin of my teeth this isn't late!!!! taking it as a win

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rendevousz · 3 years

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little hacker

avengers x fem!teen!reader

characters: brief clint barton, tony stark, steve rogers, natasha romanoff, peter parker

summary: you hacked into tony's systems and he, along with the team, track you down.

warnings: mentions of death and a car crash, hacking written by someone who has no idea how it works

word count: 3241

note: hi um this is my first oneshot on tumblr i hope you like it!!

you were 14 when you first met the avengers. your family had gotten into a tragic car accident and you were the only one who made it out alive, leaving you in excessive guilt and burden; guilt because you were the only one granted a second chance at life and burden because you had to live your life, barely scraping by as you were dropped the responsibility of taking care of your sick grandmother.

at 11, where all that the kids your age had to worry about was whether their pocket money was enough to get themselves an after-school snack, you worried whether or not the money left to your name was enough to survive.

at 11, where girls worried about their changing bodies and asked their mothers about it, you had to figure it all out yourself and with the help of your trusty laptop, the only gadget you had, one that your dad had gifted to you after you had gotten 100s for all your tests at age 8. he thought you were his little prodigy and figured a laptop would treat you well. you took care of it well because while you didn't want to spend the last of your money left, —that was specifically set aside for your grandmother's hospital bills— you wanted to hold on to the laptop for as long as you could, as a reminder of your loving father, as well as the memories the item held, after you've watched movies with pretty much all of your passed family members on that laptop at different points in your life. that was why whenever the thing lagged due to how much you've been using it, you almost always figure out how to fix it until it was good as new.

at 12, while your classmates had their parents to protect them when they were out at night, you feared for your life whenever you were out past dark. which led you to learning self defence from youtube videos. you learned them pretty quickly and with your sharp-wittedness, you no longer feared to be out at night. you even had the honours of trying out your skills when some men thought they could get you just because you were smaller than them.

at 12, where kids your age were having fun, enjoying their childhood, you had no choice but to be mature and think for the good of yourself and your sick grandmother. you were forced to grow up and you were probably more mature and intelligent than the rest of your classmates combined.

and at 13, you realised that money wasn't going to grow on trees and the money you were left with wasn't going to last forever. it had to last until you were old enough to work. but with your grandmother's condition getting worse and worse, you were forced to drop out of school. you were upset because you loved it. you loved knowledge. but family came first and the only thing that your knowledge increased on was on computers.

which led to you being able to hack into tony stark's bank account at only 14. you had no other choice than to steal money and who better to steal it from than a guy whose pocket change could probably last you another five years or so? you knew who tony stark was, the whole world knows who he is. and you thought that maybe he would be too preoccupied with his alter ego saving the whole world, along with his group of earth's mightiest heroes that he wouldn't notice the tiny bit of money you'd stolen from him.

of course the billionaire had been alerted immediately by his AI when you'd accessed into his systems. "security breach?" he exclaimed, immediately dropping the tool he was tinkering his suit with in his lab.

he spent about 3 minutes, that was how long you took touring around in his systems, observing what you did in it. he watched as you did nothing about the highly confidential information he had and instead, stole....5 grand from his bank account? that was barely a scratch to his account. what was going on?

he had requested FRIDAY to track down the hacker, mainly because he was perplexed that someone had hacked into his well protected system just to steal a tiny bit of money but it seems that even FRIDAY couldn't track down where it came from.

he told the team and it was then that everyone worried how dangerous the hacker could possibly be.

"who steals just 5 grand after hacking into a billionaire's bank account?" clint frowned after tony had explained the whole situation. "i mean, if i managed to hack into your systems, i'd do way more than just steal a couple bucks."

"exactly. and who knows? they might just be waiting for the right moment to install dangerous malware into the system and until we find the culprit, they're roaming somewhere out there with all our confidential information right at the tip of their fingers. if they decide to use it against us..." tony trailed off, for once having a worried expression on his otherwise nonchalant face. he's never been this clueless about what to do with any sort of technical issues concerning the avengers or himself.

you on the other hand, after getting complacent that you weren't caught, kept doing so for the next couple months or so. you had no ill intentions, just trying to scrape by. the whole situation puzzled tony. he didn't care how much you've taken from him in total now, you were right; it was merely pocket change to him. but you were still considered a threat since you had free access to his systems and he didn't even know who you were or where you were.

that was until you made a tiny mistake, one that if tony wasn't spending every waking moment trying to track you down he wouldn't have noticed. and though it was a small mistake, it certainly was going to change how things ran from then on.

that afternoon, after having just gotten back from visiting your grandmother at the hospital, you were planning to get more money from the billionaire's bank account at the comfort of your own home. god, hospital bills were expensive. once you had had a little snack, you settled down on the couch and opened your laptop. but being the quick-witted person you were, before the screen in front of you lit up, you saw movement from behind you.

your heart raced. you could handle fighting people but those usually happened in alleys at nighttime. this was in your home, your safe place. you made sure to lock the doors and there weren't fire escapes outside your windows so how did the intruder get in?

you could tell they were trying to be inconspicuous to get to you and so you let them. you let the person think that they were going to get you without a fight but when they were right behind you, you swiftly turned your body around and jumped over the couch. the masked intruder let out a surprised yelp and the two of you fought for a bit. before you knew it, you had them pinned under you in just ten seconds.

"wha– how– what?" it sounded like a boy. you looked down at him and noticed his red and blue spandex suit. you frowned. wasn't this the friendly neighbourhood spiderman guy or something? why was a superhero breaking into your home?

he was coughing from your knee pressing down onto his chest and you lifted it slightly, enough for him to breathe but not enough to escape. he seemed grateful though because he muttered a seemingly embarrassed 'thanks'.

"get off the kid or i'll blast you off of him myself."

you look up and saw the iron man repulsor aimed right at you, and obviously iron man himself was standing right there in the middle of your small apartment. behind him stood a redhead, who you knew as the black widow, aiming a pistol at you, and a man with a shield, captain america. the spiderboy must've come in through the window and unlocked the door for them.

when you made eye contact with steve, he frowned in confusion. you looked way too young to be the culprit they had expected. he muttered a quiet 'wait, what?' before tony stark revealed himself, his iron man faceplate opening.

"um...kid? where are your parents? or guardian? we need to see them because there's been some highly illegal activity coming from this address." the man in the suit spoke. you stayed still, knee still pressing against the boy under you, frowning at the adults in the room. they noticed your apprehensiveness and slowly lowered their weapons. "we're not here to hurt you, you can release the boy now," steve told you gently.

you usually weren't one to trust easily but since these people were known superheroes, you reluctantly stood up, still anxious of the possibilities of what they could do to you. the spiderboy got up too and dusted his back, before going to stand next to steve. you were confused as to why these heroes were breaking in your home until you remembered what you had been up to for the past weeks. how could you forget when that was the only reason you were still surviving?

your eyes widened with fear when they met tony's soft ones. he looked at you with such care and worry that you were reminded of your late dad. the man in front of you wasn't the arrogant man you've watched on youtube. you felt bad for stealing from him now. you used to think that he deserved it, despite how little you took compared to how much he had. the man knelt down before you so he didn't appear so big in front of you, seeing your frightened expression. little did he know you were frightened for a totally different reason.

"anyone else living here, kid? because i tracked down this address and someone has been stealing money from me. i might need to have a little talk with them." he explained, looking around the house. you fiddled with the hem of your shirt nervously, scared of what would come once you came clean about your actions. you were scared you were going to be taken in for juvenile crime but you were also scared of the consequences of lying straight to their faces. so you took a deep breath before deciding to just tell the truth.

"t–that would be me, sir." you admitted in a small voice, avoiding eye contact with the billionaire you had been stealing from. a few shocked looks from the team and an incredulous 'what?' from tony had you biting the inside of your cheeks in fear.

"i'm truly sorry about that, sir. i..." you trailed off, debating whether or not to justify your actions because you thought that he might not even want to listen to it. "i had to pay off my grandmother's hospital bills because she is very sick. my family died a few years ago in a car crash and i was the only one who made it. i was left some money to my name but having to survive on that along with paying off nana's bills, it was bound to run out. i...i thought that since you were a billionaire, stealing a few thousands wouldn't matter to you...i'm so sorry, sir. i– i'll start working to pay you back.." you stuttered out, holding your hands together so it would minimise the shaking.

tony's mouth opened and closed, like fish out of water, not knowing what to say to you. he stood up and you were on the verge of breaking down right then and there, feeling as small as you did before he knelt before you. "p–please don't report me, sir. i– i don't know what would happen to my nana if you do.. i swear to you that i didn't mess with your other files. i only accessed the system for your bank account and that was it. i have no ill intentions, please don't report me.." you were now the one kneeling down in front of him, begging.

the team were flabbergasted at the scene unfolding before them and tony was quick to get you off your knees, which scared you even more because the death grip of his metal hands on your forearms had your mind running wild at the millions of possibilities of what he would do to you. was he going to kill you and leave you somewhere that people were never going to find your body? or was he going to dispose of you and use his power to remove you permanently from the system so no one came looking for you? he had the power to ruin your life and you feared that.

snapping you out of your mental breakdown, he spoke softly. "hey, it's okay." and that was when you realised the 'death grip' he had on your forearms had only been your paranoia getting the best of you. he was barely even touching you. your teary eyes looked up at his soft, brown ones in fear.

then he smiled at you.

"it's okay. i understand the reason why you did what you did. you're a good kid, your nana is so lucky to have you. what's your name?" he knelt down before you once again, knowing that him standing tall in his iron man suit terrified you. "y/n." you responded timidly.

"how old are you, y/n?" this time, it was steve who asked. you had forgotten that there were other people in the room, too consumed by your fear for your life a few moments ago. "i'm fourteen, mr america, sir." you whispered out, the sight of captain america in person intimidating you until you saw a kind smile on his face.

"you're pretty young to be doing what you've been doing, y/n. are you aware that you're the first person to be able to hack into my heavily protected, supposedly impenetrable network? many have tried to do so and failed, and they were really smart people too. have you been doing this for a while?" tony asked.

"um...my father gifted me this laptop when i was 8 because i did exceptionally well in school. he believed i was a child prodigy and let me have a laptop since he knew my studies wouldn't be affected by the distraction of entertainment. i used to only hack into games to cheat my way up the ranks but only recently i tried something else since i had nothing better to do and i've been out of school for a while now. i knew you were a billionaire so i tried just for the heck of it and surprised myself when i got in on the first try. and then i saw your bank account details and i really needed money so i stole some... again, i'm so sorry about that." you apologised, looking down at your feet.

he couldn't believe it. you were just messing around and you managed to get into his system? you, a mere fourteen year old who was out of school, managed to single handedly do what geniuses around the world had failed to do?

he was initially just going to have a talk with the hacker, and in case they were dangerous and had backup, he brought his own. but bringing steve, natasha and peter proved to be unnecessary when the culprit turned out to be you.

"where did you learn those moves?" natasha stepped closer towards you. you looked up at the redhead, noticing the glare she had on you when she aimed her pistols at you was replaced with curiosity.

you fiddled with the hem of your shirt even more, embarrassed to tell her that you learned to fight from a couple of youtube videos when she had gotten years of actual training. you were pathetic compared to her. "i, um, i learned them from some youtube videos."

her eyebrows raised in surprise at the revelation. you hadn't gotten professional training yet you moved like you had. peter had superhuman strength, agility and endurance yet you took him down in under ten seconds. sure it may have been a disadvantage to peter because he was caught off guard but he should've been able to take you down still.

now was tony going to let the chance of a lifetime slip by? no, of course he was immediately thinking of recruiting you. your dad had been right about you being a prodigy. you adapted to new skills quickly and you were perfect for recruitment.

"hey kid, wanna be an avenger?"

your eyes widened and your jaw dropped in shock. steve immediately turned to him, an incredulous look on his face as he glared dangerously at the billionaire. "stark, you wanna think about this for a minute?"

"thank about what, cap? you saw what she did to the spiderling. and she successfully hacked into my system on her first try and we took weeks to trace her. romanoff back me up here," he saw how impressed natasha was by you and he knew the redhead wasn't going to disagree. "stark's right, steve. she's only fourteen and she's capable of so much already. we need someone like her."

"exactly! she's only fourteen! this life is dangerous for her!" steve argued. peter then tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "hey, mr rogers, i'm a sixteen-year-old avenger and she took me down easily. not gonna lie, it hurt my pride, also my back when you flipped me over your shoulder," he turned to you but you didn't say anything because you couldn't see his facial expression. "but i think she's going to be okay, sir."

steve sighed before turning to you, the defeated expression on his face softening when you looked up at him with your doe eyes and a small smile. you didn't answer to tony just yet since it seemed that steve had a say in it as well but you were dying to say yes. not only were you not going to be reported for your crimes but to be recruited by iron man himself to be an avenger? who could say no to that? not you, at least, since you had nothing better to do with your life at the moment.

"well, what do you say, kid?"

your smile grew and you nodded happily. the team couldn't help but crack a smile at how happy you looked for the first time since they've encountered you.

"well, you should go pack your important stuff so we can go back to the tower. you're going to be moving in if you're an official member of the avengers." tony told you and you nodded, walking towards your room to start packing while the team sat on the couch to wait for you.

"wait, what's going to happen to my nana?" you turned back towards them, worry etched onto you face. "don't worry about it, kid. you can give me the details later and i'll settle it. she'll be in good hands." he assured. "okay." you mumbled in response.

you were actually going to be an avenger. "awesome.." you grinned to yourself as you packed.

#avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #tony stark x teen!reader #captain america x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #teen!reader #peter parker x reader #marvel #marvel x reader

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thebadbatch · 3 years

Note

Hey hey! Could I get an Echo x Male reader one?! But with prompts 3 & 13 from the romance section?! But could it be more fluffy and platonic..?? Like they’re best friends and reader just wants echo to come back alive and safe?? And reader has a habit of patting echo on his head a lot after successful missions?? And stuff?? And eventually tells echo why?? Because he just wants him safe and stuff?? I’m bad at explaining sorry :(( but thank you!!

A/N: I hope this is okay!!!! I really hope its what you were looking for! Echo is an absolute angel among us. Love you👉🏻👈🏻 (The person requesting is my boyfriend and I made him an Echo simp👀)

Echo x Male!Reader

Plot: Echo gets sent on a mission disguised as a droid once again. Things don't exactly turn out the way as planned so you have to go and save your best friend.

Warnings: None! Just a little violence.

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

Successful Mission.

"You do realise the risks of the mission don't you?" Echos stern voice spoke, his hands leaning against the side as his eyes stayed locked upon you. "It's a solo-mission, you've never done one before." You just rolled your eyes and lightly shoved him, he was always logical and followed the rules but this is one of the many times you had come up with a plan he doesn't necessarily agree with.

"Look it'll be fine and I know what i'm doing!" Tech passed you the holo map as you spoke, "I need to start somewhere and this is it." You gave a big smile to Echo before being passed any necessary gear by Hunter who was pretty wary of his brother right now. Tech soon took the holomap from you and re-examining it before speaking.

"Actually I think Echo's correct, there's too much resting on this mission." You instantly turned to face him and glared Practical daggers into his eyes.

"Be very careful with your next words." Echo just grinned and pushed you a little, an ongoing best friend thing between both of you. Tech gathered everybody back around the map, typing into his datapad.

"It's not that you don't have the skills because you do, but due to Echo being half droid he has a sixty-percent chance of being undetected throughout the entire duration of the mission." Tilting your head you attempted to read over Tech's shoulder at the information he was reading.

"What does being part droid have to do with the mission?" Hunter chimed in, eyes still glued on the holomap before him.

"This facility seems to be lenient to droids, so if Echo disguises as one then he will get in without fuss and retrieve the information we need." Echo just smiled at you with a smug look sprawled across his face.

"I guess that i've won then, huh?" With a light laugh he agreed to Tech's newer plan before moving away to grab the same droid disguise he had used on a previous mission. Tech had since moved to pilot the Marauder and lower us down to the correct coordinates to ensure a hidden entrance for Echo. Softly walking toward him you shared a light smile,

"You'll be safe, yeah?" He simply nodded as he closed the helmet over his face, standing and Prepping any necessities for the mission.

"I'll be fine, you know that." Pushing him gently you both shared a laugh as you walked him to the ramp, ready to say goodbye for the time being.

"Alright then, mission stealer." The ship finally landed causing the ramp to open revealing the misty planet and sand filled floors. Hunter soon appeared again, passing him a certain cdata device.

"Grab that information with the least fuss possible then get the heck out of there." He paused for a moment as the wind began to kick up resulting in the sand swirling in the air. "Remember to contact us if there are any issues, we'll be prepared to get you outta there." With a light nod he moved back and onto the sandy floor, gradually leaving your sight. The ramp soon closed and blocked out any source of light from the planet, Echo now completely on his own until he called for your help. Those were the parts of missions you dreaded, the looming thought of if he'd return or not. The stress was sometimes overbearing but it was going to be alright. He'd make it home safely just as he always does.

Echo had soon arrived, though dust coated his body, and he had made it in un-detected despite all of the storm troopers locking around. Upon arrival he was treated as terribly as the other droids under the Empire's watch but he was granted pretty quick access to the halls and rooms. Walking through the hallways he ensured he was alone before activating the previous holomap Tech had given him and viewed the room he needed to get to for the information. There were rumours that information of well wanted bounty hunters were kept here, something worth thousands of credits which was something the batch desperately needed. Sighing gently he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, he hated everything to do with the Empire so this wasn't exactly the most delightful mission he could be on. Usually he could just blast his way out, but not this time. Walking down and into the correct room, he applied his data chip into the console and began to type away everything Tech had instructed to do so. This was a simple in and out, that's all it was supposed to be.

"Ah, I didn't realize that we granted access to droids?" A voice spoke, a click of a gun causing Echo to flinch a little. "Now tell me, who might you be?" Sighing gently he pressed the final button and tried to grab the chip as sneakily as possible, turning around and putting his hands into the air.

"I'm C8-05, I was assigned to ensure systems were running correctly and make any needed repairs." He chuckled lightly, walking toward him.

"Is that so? I'm sure the admiral would love to hear this, don't you think?" Before you could say a word, the person grabbed Echo and began to push him toward the exit with the blaster trained against him. Clicking his wrist, he sent a rapid signal to the bad batch that he had been captured. This definitely wasn't turning out the way he had expected.

The signal rang through you like a blaster shot to the chest, it had gone wrong somewhere and somehow along the lines. You told him, you asked him if he could handle it but that persistent clone never gave up did he? Grabbing your blaster you turned to face the others,

"Are we all going in?" Hunter was the first to nod, grabbing his weapon and placing his helmet on him.

"Tech, stay here and guard the ship - prepare for take off at any given moment and if I say to leave then you leave." He simply nodded and ensured the systems were online and functional before allowing the rest of you to go on your way, Wrecker and Crosshair on alert behind you both. Upon arrival, you simply blasted your way through the wall of storm troopers. They could never blast with any accuracy anyway, so it wasn't really a bother. Crosshair moved forward, blasting those on higher ground until you managed to enter the hallway and rush through it with Wrecker blasting anything and anyone that stood in your way.

"What are the current coordinates of his position?" You panted whilst crouching behind the wall to avoid the rapid blaster fire. Hunter gazed at his comm device, signalling to Tech for the coordinates.

"Down the hallway, straight into the fifth cell - it's interrogation so let's move." Nodding quickly, you rushed through the hallways and straight into the correct cell, overly grateful for the batches' cover fire. When you first saw Echos face you couldn't help but smile at your best friend, thrilled to see him okay. That was until you heard a familiar click of a blaster against your head and Echos angry expression. This really wasn't going too well at all, was it? A swift blast made you flinch, but luckily it was Crosshair who had gently pushed past you after his kill equally as glad to see Echo okay.

"That was pretty awesome Cross!" Wreckers booming laugh interjected the painful and worried silence as you walked over to Echo and stood him up. Patting his head softly you couldn't help but spot his smile.

"Nice to see you too, y/n." He smiled but you only frowned back at him whilst still patting his head, a pout clearly on your face. "What?" You just shook your head and removed your hand, crossing your arms after returning your blaster against your thigh.

"I'm upset with you, you got yourself into danger. I need you here with me, what if I woke up one day and you were no longer here?" You paused to allow him to soak in your upset, "You can't keep being reckless." He just smiled gently and pulled you into a hug.

"I'm alright now, don't panic - I won't go anywhere." He laughed which made you smile and pat his head again once you pulled away.

"Why do you always pat my head?" He asked, confusion crossing his tone. Sighing softly you kept your gaze trained on Echo as you spoke,

"Well it's just nice to know you're actually here after our successful missions and knowing that you're safe. Just a habit to confirm that I suppose." He nodded, smiling at your sweet answer. Crosshair soon pushed between you both which made you lightly shove him.

"Hate to break it up but we should get moving unless you want this to be an unsuccessful mission." You just nodded and laughed at Echos' pout, trailing after the others to return to the Marauder.

Once you had returned to the attack shuttle and left the rather unpleasant planet things were a lot calmer. Your best friend, Echo, had lingered by you and had patted your head gently.

"Successful mission right?" He smiled at you which just made you laugh and nod.

"Another successful mission." You confirmed as you both proceeded to join the other batchers with the information to give back to Cid. Everything had worked out just as intended.

#Tbb #the bad batch #Bad batch #Clone force 99 #the bad batch x reader #Echo x reader #Male reader

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foli-vora · 3 years

Text

worlds collide

A/N: Hi, I’m in my feels tonight so have some angst! (That gif is breaking my fucking heart.)

Pairing: Din Djarin/gn!reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: violence, blood, death

+++

Din didn’t know how or when it happened. All he knew was that it did happen. He awoke, however long after the initial blast, in a startle, hand shooting to the beskar covering his face as he pushed himself into a sitting position. People were screaming, running erratic paths through the fire and debris. Stomach lodged firmly in his throat, he looks to his side where he expects to find the Child, his child, tucked up safe in the sack he had fashioned from old pieces of scrap material he found on the Crest.

He whips around in alarm when he finds nothing but ruins. Where was the kid? Why wasn’t he here? Dust coats the gloves covering his hands as he pushes through the remnants of fallen buildings around him, showing away piece after piece of rubble, desperation clawing away at his insides as he continuously comes up empty.

Where was the kid? The kid. Where was the kid?

And then a memory hits him.

Your smile. Not the polite half smiles you would offer others, mere strangers passing by on the streets, no. This smile was all his. The smile that he swears brings the stars he travels through to your eyes. The smile that is seared into his mind, that’s painted across his eyelids every time he finds a small amount of time to rest.

You grin up at him and make a sly little comment about his stiff armour digging into the soft sack carrying the sleeping baby, gently lifting it from across his body and hanging it upon your own, hand automatically rubbing soothing circles over the little lump through the coarse material.

“I told you he wouldn’t wake,” you shoot him a smirk, walking further ahead to admire the various materials and trinkets laid across tables throughout the market.

He pauses, coming to a stop between the bustling patrons, taking a moment to watch you. Watch the way you tread between the buyers, the way your hand automatically cradles the sack protectively if someone pushes too close, the way your eyes soak up each new object and entity you encounter with eager, curious eyes.

You notice the absence of his intimidating presence only a few steps ahead and turn to him questioningly. Tilting your head, you smile inquisitively, taking a small moment of your own to admire him and the incredible gleam of his armour against the bright backdrop of colourful banners and busying shoppers.

Peace.

That’s what he had felt in that moment. And though you had never seen him without the heavy helmet covering his face, he knew you saw him. In more than the physical sense. But where did it go wrong? When did the peace meet its end? When did it melt into the overwhelming sense of loss he feels now?

Your eyes flicker to something over his shoulder, brows pinching together. The immediate sense of dread that crashes over him the second your eyes widen in fear has him moving instantly, not caring about what’s there, what you’re seeing – just filled with the drowning need to reach you, to reach the child, to protect.

Had you called for him? In his current state, he doesn’t recall. The explosion had been so loud. He knew he had called for you – your name ripping from his modulator with a blinding urgency that left his throat feeling raw and then… nothing.

Frantic, he continues to push his way around, ignoring the people that pull on his armour-clad arms and beg for his aid. He doesn’t have time. He refuses to help them while you and the Child are missing. He won’t help a soul until he knows where you are, knows that you’re both unharmed, that you’re both safe.

He’s not sure what sound falls from his lips when he catches sight of your boots sticking out from beneath a piece of fallen wall. The breath gets sucked from his lungs, bile rises in his throat, and then he’s running, not caring about who he shoves down along the way – he just needs to get to you.

The adrenaline pulsing through his system has him hefting the piece of rubble off of you and then he’s on his knees, gloved hands gently, urgently, pushing at your shoulder until you’re on your back. He can’t see you, not the real you. Dust and blood cake your face and no matter how hard he scrubs along your skin; he can’t find you.

His hands follow along your frame, feeling along the side of your body and then… there he is. The Child chirps sadly, blinking dust from his wide eyes, and wiggles from the soiled sack, stumbling onto unsteady legs. He turns to look at you, large ears dropping in sorrow at the sight of your battered body.

“I know, kid. They’re gonna be fine.”

You were going to be fine, because there was no other option. You’d have a bump on the head, complain about it for a few days, get on his nerves, and then be fine. Healed. Alive.

He swears his heart jumps a beat when your face pinches, features contorting in discomfort. He hates knowing you’re in pain, but he’d take it. Quite happily. At least that meant you were still here, still with him. He waits, but your eyes don’t open and he gets impatient. He taps your cheek once, twice, again just a little bit harder.

Why aren’t you waking up?

He shakes you; hand locked firmly onto your shoulder, fingers digging into your skin. The desperation that’s leaking into his voice starts to intensify the longer your lashes stay against the skin of your cheeks. Come on. You’re alright. You’re alright. Wake up –

And then finally – Stars, finally – your eyes flutter. The two suns hovering in the sky blind you, and you lift a heavy hand with a groan to cover your face. Relief floods him in an overwhelming wave and he crumbles over your body like he’s just ran nonstop for miles. You’re okay. You’re fine, everything’s fine.

His hands are everywhere when you eventually sit up – cradling your ribs, supporting your shoulders, a gloved palm against your cheek as you blink blearily at the scene around you. What happened? You don’t have the strength to ask. His grip is tight as he holds your hands, gently pulling you to stand. He doesn’t move away once you’re on your feet and it’s a good thing, too – you tremble, head melting into a vicious spin, and your legs give out from under you.

He has you in his arms before you’re even halfway to the ground.

“I’ve got you.” Always.

He cradles you the entire hike back to the Crest, the Child cuddled up to your chest as he coos gently at you, keeping you awake and as alert as possible. Din doesn’t stop moving, powered purely by the desperation to get you back to the ship, back home, somewhere safe. He kicks blankets across the cold grated floor and delicately lies you down, careful not to jostle you too much.

Your face puckers in agony, but soon you relax with a soft exhale, watching him through tired eyes as he moves the kid to his hammock before rushing back to your side. The gloves come off in an urgent tug and soon you’re rewarded with the heat of his fingertips trailing across your skin. His touch disappears, and you wish you could voice your protest, wish you could beg him to put them back.

You watch as tanned hands reach and grasp at the helmet, pulling it up and off and then – oh. Din blinks down at you with wide brown eyes, assessing every bit of damage he could see without his visor hindering his view. A scratch here, a scrape there – nothing bacta won’t fix. You’re fine. Everything’s fine. His eyes fall back to yours, and he half smiles, somewhat shyly, as you study his previously secret features.

Beautiful.

Your hand moves, fingers desperate to feel the scruff covering his jawline, but it falls short and you try to frown in frustration but lack the strength to contort your features. His own hand shoots up and helps yours on its journey, and soon you can feel it – scratchy against the skin of your palm.

His other hand is warm across your forehead and you smile weakly at the look of pure adoration on his face, his dark eyes flicking over your features. He had no regrets removing his helmet. He would have removed it in front of you one day, anyway.

“I’ll get you some water, cyar’ika.” He murmurs, bending to press a soft kiss to your forehead. You weakly move your head ever so slightly, greedily chasing his lips with your own, desperate to feel them just once, and your heart bursts as he grins, eyes crinkling and dimple appearing. What a sight. He lets his nose trail softly against yours before moving to your lips. His kiss was everything you had dreamed – tender, loving… and it chased away the chill that seemed to have taken a hold of your body, even if just for a few seconds.

“D-Din –” Why is it so hard to speak? You feel so weak. You want to tell him so much. He needs to know what he means to you. You’ve never been able to say the words and now you’re filled with regret. But surely, he knows. He must. You need to thank him for… for everything. For showing you the stars, for making you believe in yourself, for showing you that it’s okay to stand your ground when someone tells you to move. Maker, you need to speak. He needs to know. “Din,”

He hushes you lightly, dancing his warm fingers across your jaw affectionately. “Save your strength, cyare.”

Your eyes well as you watch him stand and leave. No, stay. Stay, please. He tries to be quick as he retrieves you a drink, but the water pressure on the Crest is questionable to say the least. He also fills a small bowl to start cleaning your skin of the filth that cakes it, desperate to see the horror of the day washed free from your skin. He returns after a short while, expertly juggling the many bits and pieces in his arms, and stops short of the makeshift bed.

You’re still. Completely unmoving. Your chest no longer moves, fighting for gasps of air. Your eyes were open, pointed to where he had disappeared into the fresher, but they lacked life. They’re vacant, hollow. They stare right through him. He all but drops everything in his arms, falling right beside you.

Swallowing around the bitter taste in his mouth, he tries to speak. “C-Cyare?”

His hands move to your face, and he recoils at the chill of your skin. Heat, you need heat. His thumbs rub across your cheeks, desperate to work some sort of friction against your skin. He wills your eyes to focus, to gaze back into his. Breathe. Maker, please, breathe.

“Cyar’ika, I’m here.” He moves closer, hands darting over your body, indecisive of where to touch, where to hold you. No. You’re fine. You’re fine. He feels the cracks start to form, his world quickly falling apart in his hands. “I’m here. Please, cyare – I’m here.”

Yes, he is… but you’re not.

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x gn!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars fic #mando #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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listentothelittlebird · 3 years

Text

So I wrote Waterbender Jason Todd and that was a blast (the series is Gotham’s White Lotus!) but I went through a ton of drafts for how Jason got reintegrated into the Batfam - and here’s one of the drafts!

Word Count: 2760 words

I like this one because it’s dramatic :) Enjoy!

(This draft essentially diverges directly after Burning Iceberg - some of the diversions can be seen in the tags!)

An explosion, Oracle’s words quickly filtering into their comms.

“I have eyes on the combustion bender. Looks like he’s still looking to complete his contract.”

Batman’s voice came next, barking an order for Robin to return to the Batcave.

“But-”

“Little bird, you should probably listen to the B-man,” Red Hood jumped in, “Seriously. Lay off this one for all of us, alright?”

Robin huffed, but obeyed.

The explosions followed Robin’s movements until Batman was able to intercept the bender. Red Hood dropped down soon after. Batgirl had taken to accompanying Robin back to the Batcave. Nightwing informed them that he was on his way to Gotham, likely to check up on Robin for his own assurance.

The blasts caused Red Hood to dart to one side, Batman to the other. Before the smoke filling the empty warehouse could clear, a blade was pressed to Jason’s neck.

“Where is my son?” the voice hissed. The Pit was long gone, but that did nothing to quell the snarl that answered the question.

“Nice to see you too, Talia,” Jason spat out. He could guess why Talia had come to Gotham - investigating the new mask that held his build, as well as the absence of one eight-year-old after his most recent mission.

“Where-” the sword dug deeper, “-is. My. Son.”

“Where do you think?” Jason snarked, “C’mon, Tals, you can’t be that much of an idiot. Detective it out yourself.”

Talia growled. “You poisoned my child’s thoughts,” Talia murmured darkly, “If not for you, Damian would have completed his mission successfully, and been ever closer to becoming a satisfactory Heir. I should have recognised your meddling from the start.”

Jason chuckled. The smoke was clearing, now, and from the comms, it seemed that Batman was apprehending the combustion bender. He hoped Oracle could hear him and had alerted the others.

“You kept Damian from his father,” Jason stated evenly, “The least I could do was tell the kid about his Dad and his brothers. You know, the brothers you never told him about? Not to mention his sister, too.”

“He is the blood-son.”

“He is the youngest son, and you’re gonna have to get through me and the rest of us if you so much as think of hiding him away again.”

Batman dropped down in front of them. Talia’s sword was still dangerously close to his neck, digging in slightly, nearly drawing blood.

“Back away from the Hood, Talia,” Batman growled, “This is between you and me.”

Talia stilled.

“You haven’t told him,” Talia realised.

Shit.

The sword was humming, growing warmer. Jason could feel the heat on his skin.

“You told me you wanted revenge. You told me you wanted your replacement gone,” Talia was on a roll, now, grasping greedily for control, “You told me you wanted him to pay. For not avenging you. For leaving The Joker walking.”

Jason shuddered at the mention of the Rogue. He could feel Talia’s shark-like grin at his neck.

“A shame,” she tutted, “You realised, didn’t you? That he never cared for you. No wonder you have yet to tell him the truth.”

Batman took a stuttering step forward. Jason tried to control his breathing, the blade heating up enough to burn. She was trying to get under his skin. Trying to…

Jason made sure to inject rage and malice into his next words, “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Talia.”

Underneath his jacket was a flask of water for emergencies.

“Oh?” Talia hummed menacingly, “And what may that be?”

Jason moved, breaking out of the hold. The sword flared into flames.

The jet of water knocked Talia back several paces, but not before she could take a slash at his helmet. The material melted into his lenses, and Jason cursed, ripping off the helmet just in time to block her blade with an ice-coated arm.

“The spirits. That was you.”

“Bingo. Looks like the Pit didn’t melt out your brains.”

Jason met the flurry of attacks steadily, bending the broken ice into water blasts and back to ice once more, dodging the flames and ignoring the singed marks on his clothes.

Another explosion. Jason’s gaze darted just enough to see that the combustion bender had returned, hands bound but still conscious.

“I should have never helped you,” Talia stated, a tone of finality, “It’s only right I bury you again.”

A bout of flames aimed for his face, forcing Jason to roll backwards, just out of reach. By the time he got back to his feet, Talia was standing beside the combustion bender, who was already in stance. Another explosion sounded, right above him.

Jason only had time to curl up and erect a crystal of ice around him before the warehouse roof fell.

He could taste the smoke on his lips, the dust of wood and cement. He waited one, two seconds, straining against the weight of the building against the ice, before digging into his jacket, pulling out a small comms unit and stuffing it into his ear.

“-you hear me? Hood!” Oracle was yelling.

“I’m under the warehouse,” Jason gasped out, coughing up the smoke and dirt and dust, “I’m- I’m underneath. I- please. Please get me out. Fuck.”

He was trembling. The ice creaked, painfully loud in the silence.

“I can’t-” his lips moved without his permission, “-can’t do this again. Shit. I- don’t make me do this again.”

Distantly, he registered that his voice was no longer modulated, like it was in his helmet.

“I found him,” came Batman’s grunt, and if Jason had enough space within the ice, he would have keeled over in relief. The soil beneath him rumbled, but Jason had long come to associate this specific tremble with earthbending. The earth opened, and Jason gasped as he dropped into the ditch, which closed and engulfed him in darkness.

“B?” Jason whispered, the sound echoing. He was vaguely aware of someone approaching him as his breath quickened.

“It’s me, Hood,” Batman’s voice sounded, and Jason sobbed.

“I- shit. Shit.”

“It’s alright,” Batman soothed, “It’s-”

Batman cut himself off, coming to a stop just in front of where Jason was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to quell his panicked breathing.

A hand on his shoulder pulled him into an upright position on his knees. Jason flinched as a flashlight was shined on his face, then gulped audibly as Batman visibly jolted back in shock. The light stayed trained on his face, even as Batman reached out slowly, as if scared he would disappear. His hand first found Jason’s arm, then his neck, pressing to his pulse, and then reached to his face, peeling off the red domino mask with a fragile touch.

A beat passed, where Jason stared into Batman’s cowl, desperately waiting for a reaction.

“Batman, what’s Hood’s status?” came through the comms.

“Jason?” he whispered. He tugged off his cowl, and Bruce’s eyes shone with flickering hope and brokenness.

Jason sucked in gulps of air in between his hitched breaths, enough for him to rasp out one word, “Dad.”

The light moved away from his face, a black gauntlet grasping tightly onto his arm, nearly bruising in its grip, pulling him roughly forward. Jason lost his balance, tipping straight into a tight hug that knocked the breath out of him, just as it knocked the first tears loose.

“Dad,” he whispered again, the grip around him tightening somehow, “Dad.”

“Jason,” Bruce returned just as reverently, “Oh, son, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’m-” Jason sobbed, gasping, “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know… how… how to tell you. Didn’t know what to say. I-”

Bruce shushed him quietly, and Jason dissolved into tears in his father’s arms.

“Jason?” Bruce had whispered, and then the words through the comms were too muffled to make out.

“Batman? Batman, are you there?” Dick tried again, sharing another concerned look with Tim. Bruce had gone silent, save for words that were too hard for them to make out. Cass placed a steadying hand on Dick’s shoulder, a silent sign of support.

“Tune into Red Hood’s comms,” Oracle chimed abruptly. Dick frowned, but did as told.

“-Dad,” the voice, unmodulated for the first time, cracked with emotion, and the two brothers froze. The voice bordered on familiarity, despite the lower tones and faint rasp.

Damian, who had been inattentive to the audio up until that point, straightened abruptly from where he had been scrutinising a batarang. He was by their side in moments, focused intently on the blank screen of the Batcomputer as if it could provide him the answers of the universe. Cass looked on with narrowed eyes, picking up the tension in their stances, tension for different reasons.

“I’m sorry,” was heard, dissolving into incoherent phrases that were shushed by another voice. Bruce, Dick’s brain supplied. That was Bruce comforting Red Hood- comforting-

“I’m not hearing things, am I?” Dick’s voice trembled, humour falling flat. Tim’s face was pinched beside him, vaguely pale, likely mirroring his own.

Beside them, Damian breathed deeply, in and out, and turned to them with a determined tilt to his frown.

“The brother I mentioned before,” Damian started, snapping Dick’s attention towards him, “The one who told me about the zoo, about hugs. He told me about you as well, Grayson.”

Damian met his eye with only a flicker of hesitation. “He told me you loved hugs, and other forms of physical affection. He told me you once ate a box of cereal and started doing cartwheels down the hallway. He said you taught him how to fly, and how to fall.”

“Prepare the medbay for smoke inhalation,” Batman’s voice intoned. Alfred had appeared on the steps to the Manor, already making his way towards the medical supplies. Tim and Cass shared a look, and followed.

“Jason Todd,” Dick blurted, Tim’s steps faltering, Cass freezing. Something clattered out of Alfred’s always-steady hands. “The brother you’re talking about. Is his name Jason Todd?”

Damian’s gaze, still wary and too-old from his childhood training, nodded with conviction.

Alfred paused at the bedside, taking a moment to stare at the absolute miracle in front of him, sleeping peacefully with the same expression he had once seen on a small malnourished boy. He had just managed to convince Master Bruce to wash up before staying vigil by Master Jason’s side, and Alfred was quietly glad for the moment to allow himself the time to take in Master Jason’s aged appearance.

Alfred rested a hand on Jason’s head, and allowed himself an indulgent brush through the young man’s hair, the tuft of white hair tangled into his raven hair.

“My dear boy,” Alfred whispered, “Words cannot describe how glad I am, to see you alive.”

Master Jason twitched slightly, eyes flitting open just enough to take in Alfred’s face. A small smirk made its way to his lips, a greeting as much as it was a sign of his relief. Master Jason hummed out something intelligible, but Alfred shushed the boy, and his eyes easily slid shut once more.

Jason jolted awake with a gasp.

“Jay,” came a soft rumble, “Jaylad. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

Jason flitted his gaze over the room, cataloguing everything he could see in the dim lighting, before familiarity met him with sudden certainty. His gaze drifted over to the speaker.

“It’s okay,” Bruce repeated softly, guiding Jason back to lying against the pillow.

“B-” Jason grimaced at his dry throat, “Bruce?”

Bruce offered him a cup of water. Jason squinted at it and lifted his hand, but Bruce’s hand lowered it before the water could so much as ripple. “No bending in the Manor,” Bruce huffed, his lips twitching into a small smile, “Alfred would have your head in no time.” Jason huffed a laugh as the cup was pressed into his hand.

When the cup had been emptied, Jason cast another glance over the room. It was Bruce’s bedroom, Bruce on a chair beside the bed, Jason in the bed, now propped up against the headboard.

“The bender,” Jason started, turning to eye Bruce, subconsciously checking for injuries. He had a nasty-looking bruise on his arm, but otherwise looked alright.

“He got away,” Bruce stated, “With Talia.” Bruce paused, visibly reigning himself in, settling for, “Jason… I have many questions.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jason agreed with a cringe, “There’s… a lot to cover.”

He blinked then, perking up once more, “Damian. Can I see Damian?”

“Talia let you meet him,” Bruce guessed. Jason nodded distractedly, shuffling himself out of the covers and inching towards the edge of the bed. He paused to sniff the baggy shirt he was wearing, and blinked at Bruce. “Am I wearing your clothes?”

“You are,” Bruce confirmed, lip ticked up in amusement. There was a concerned glint in his eyes as Jason stood up, swaying through a head-rush. Bruce’s hands stuttered towards him, but hesitated. Jason took the initiative and wrapped his arms tightly around Bruce, and Bruce hugged him back just as firmly.

“Damian’s having breakfast with the others,” Bruce spoke softly, “Are you… ready to see them? Or would you rather me bring Damian up alone?”

Jason hesitated.

“I kind of owe them all answers, don’t I? Let’s just get it over and done with. Rip it off like a band-aid.”

Bruce hummed, lingering in the hug for a long moment before finally letting his arms go loose. Jason pulled away with a small smile, Bruce brushing a hand over his face with an overly tender expression.

There was vague scuffling coming from the kitchen.

“Quick, grab the coffee, Dami!” Dick hollered with a laugh, easily swiping Tim into the air and holding him over his shoulder. Tim twisted with a feral kick at Dick’s face, which he easily dodged by maneuvering until Tim’s arms were pinned and his legs stuck out too far to hit anything substantial.

“Be careful, Masters,” Alfred called from where he was dealing with their pancakes, not once looking up to acknowledge the play-fighting.

Cassandra was watching from the side, the only one to acknowledge Bruce and Jason as they walked in, giving them a smile and a wave. She stepped towards Bruce first, pulling him into a short hug, and did the same for Jason. Jason froze unsurely, but Cassandra smiled into his collar and giggled. “Cass,” she murmured, pulling away to beam, “Hello, brother.”

Jason returned the smile tentatively. “Hello, sister,” he offered, Cass’ smile stretching wider. Bruce looked ready to burst with emotion.

Tim whined and slumped over in Dick’s grip as Damian, on Dick’s encouraging nod, poured away the coffee into the sink, “This is unfair! Absolutely unfair! It’s only been a week and I’m already suffering from middle-child syndrome. Unfair.”

Jason snuck up on Dick and pounced, tipping them both to the ground and grabbing Tim out of Dick’s hold. “Middle children have to stick together,” Jason nodded sagely, grinning widely as Tim stared down at him dazedly, from where he had ended up sprawled on top of him.

“Jay!” Dick chirped brightly, and Jason grunted as the older boy flopped on top of them both, “You’re awake!”

“Get off, Dickhead!” Jason managed to roll out from under him. One thing led to another, and suddenly Jason had himself wrapped in a Dick Grayson Hug that was definitely not stopping anytime soon. That was about the time he met Damian’s eye, and he gave the boy a warm smile.

“What did I tell you, Baby Bat?” he drawled, rolling his eyes and gesturing to Dick’s arms, “Dickie loves hugs. Can’t get away from him even if you tried.”

“Damn right,” Dick hummed happily, squeezing briefly, “You run now and I’ll hunt you down and hug you for even longer.”

Jason gave an answering pat to Dick’s shoulder in acknowledgement. To Damian, he shook his head in mock-annoyance. Damian stepped forward, then, and folded himself against Jason’s other side. Jason curled his arm around the boy, and Damian shoved himself more firmly against his side.

“Your eyes aren’t green,” Damian whispered.

“No, they’re not,” Jason agreed, “I… it’s a long story, but I managed to get rid of the Pit rage, and got my bending back, while I was at it.”

“We have time,” Tim pointed out, settling himself on the ground in front of the small pile of pressed-together bodies, “I don’t think you’ll be extracting yourself from Dick anytime soon, either.”

Jason huffed, smiling softly. “I’ll start from the beginning, then.”

#AU of an AU #Gotham's White Lotus #straight from the trash doc #batfam #Jason Todd #in this au Damian was sent to Titans tower and they both got blindsided by the combustion bender Talia sent right behind Damian #Damian was meant to take down Tim #but instead Damian Noped out of there with Tim's help #Jason was procrastinating getting back to Gotham by doing spiritbending as a White Lotus member #dark spirits were invading Gotham so he started being Red Hood on the streets while quietly spiritbending the dark spirits #I might share the other parts of the drafts eventually but this one's the main j u i c e #cw cursing #Jason gets buried under rubble #Talia al Ghul #bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #Dick Grayson #Cassandra Cain #Alfred Pennyworth #honestly really happy with this part in particular but the previous parts leading up to it just didn't flow right for me #fanfic

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lovehugsandcandy · 3 years

Text

just close enough (Logan x MC, RoD)

A/N: I am sorry, I have been very out of touch. I apologize for not responding to tags and chats. Things haven’t been great and I am surprised that I have anything for rodaw. Please keep tagging me on your stuff!

Pairing: Logan x MC, ROD

Length: ~1700 words

Rating/Warnings: N*FW (sorry, in rereading this, yeah, you probably shouldn’t read this at work)

Summary: Distance can be measured in miles and inches, and none of it is too far for Logan to travel.

He’s almost asleep, sliding into the hazy space between full alertness (how he spends every waking moment) and complete unconsciousness (where any dream he regretfully remembers is from a past best totally forgotten). The couch cushions are rough along his spine, spring digging into a shoulder blade, but he’s slept in worse places. He’s almost blessedly asleep, darkness warm and welcoming and-

“Logan?”

His eyes fly open and he jolts up, instantly awake. The room is in shadows, light of the moon filtering through the LA smog, bathing his surroundings in a sleepy glow. He turns his head; other than the call of his name, the loft is quiet, still. With a lifetime spent attuned for threats, he can sense that the calm in the air signals safety.

“Logan?” she slurs again, voice tinged with sleep.

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

He blinks, squinting over at the lump under his sheets. “What?”

“You’re too far away. Come here.”

God, he wants that, more than anything. In the daylight, when the corners of the shop gleam sharp and lethal, he knows it is too dangerous to get close. That distance is the one thing that will save her from mistakes he has spent a lifetime making and atoning for. But here, in the stillness of night, when the scratching fabric chafes his back and the siren in his bed calls, he feels his resolve weaken, scattering in shards to the floorboards to join the dust and grime underneath.

He pads over, the rhythm of his footsteps matching the soft sigh of her breath, and cautiously perches on the mattress, giving her a beat to reconsider before he swings his legs over and slides under the covers. She is soft and warm, coconut and sunshine next to his grease and oil, and she rolls over to edge soft on his side.

“Close enough?” he asks into the curls pillowing over his shoulder.

“Mmh… almost.”

He chuckles as he catalogues the space between them, an inch where her waist curves concave from his, a rumpled barrier of fabric where her feet are entangled. They could barely be closer, but somehow, he still agrees with Ellie.

The smile is still on his face as he drifts off into a contented sleep.

~~~~~

He’s not used to being in the passenger seat.

The view is different here, shifted, the rows of parked cars tilted and angled askew, but he sat relaxed, legs splayed and hair catching the wind the entire way. It’s a testament to her driving; she’s brilliant behind the wheel, beaming with every acceleration, leaning into every curve, and he can tell - she finds the call of the road freeing, just like he does. She’s come a long way from the shy bookworm whose path he stepped in front of. It’s barely been a few weeks, but it feels like forever.

He wishes it could go on forever.

He inhales harshly through his nose, recalling the day they met, the hushed conversations that preceded it. She deserves to know the truth and here, parked in this lot waiting on a disconcertingly mysterious job, seems like the perfect place to tell her.

But before he can find the words, she turns, fixing him with a devious smirk.

“Come here.” Her finger beckons and, just past it, a devious smirk glows in the multicolor shades alight from the dash.

“What do you…”

“Come here. You’re too far away.”

He leans forward, and the center console digs into his ribs. It doesn’t matter, not when she tugs on a strand of hair to pull him closer, so close he can map the lines of her smile with an intensity usually saved for fuel intake lines and racetracks. “Better?”

“Nope.”

He inches forward. “How about now?”

“Nope.” Her voice is teasing, soft, a whisper of air against his lips, the tingling of excitement before the fall.

He’s completely in her space, so close he can’t see beyond the dark of her eyes, the apples of her cheeks. There is no world beyond the girl in the driver’s seat. “Now?”

“... almost.” She breathes the response into his mouth as their lips finally meet; he realizes with a start that he will never be closer to anyone, here in this stadium parking lot, with his hands tangled in her hair and poisonous secrets in his heart.

Even when they are close as can be, he still feels the distance.

~~~~~

Logan’s just catching his breath, skating a shaking palm over her side. “Are you ready?” The words make him pause.

“No.” He blinks at her as she rests against the pillow in Vaughn’s spare bedroom, hair spilling down against the pillow; the strands curl around his finger as he absentmindedly runs his fingers in a tense pattern. He could never be ready for this, to see the one person he ever trusted, the one person he ever loved, race for their freedom on a pitch-black highway.

“We don’t really have a choice.”

“I know.”

“Logan, we need to do this.” She props herself up on her elbow, and his heart falls.

“I know. I just… I hate the thought of not being with you, not being able to protect you.”

She blinks down at him, and his fingers reach up to tangle in one graceful coil of hair strands soft on the pads on his fingers. “You know I can drive.”

“Of course, Troublemaker, I’ve seen you drive. I just… I don’t want you to be in danger. I hate that you’re going to be out there where I can’t help you.”

“I’ll be too far away?”

“Yeah.” For as close at they are now, where he can catalogue the distance between them (millimeters between his shoulder and hers, three inches between their lips, and no distance at all where his cock is just stirring, again, into the soft skin of her stomach), he knows that the waiting, the space on the highway --- it will wreck him.

She smiles, faintly, distantly, her eyes echoing his own pain. “I’m here right now.”

“You are.” He spins, hand on her hip pushing until he is over her, legs intertwined, fingertips around her waist, every inch of them aligned and in sync. “And I’m going to make the most of it.”

~~~~~

You’re too far away.

The words are high in the wind and he whips his head around frantically, as memories collide with the storm brewing outside. The first flake is a shock, pelting his forehead in an icy portent and, mere seconds later, the grey clouds above part in a mass of ice and slush.

It never snowed in LA.

Logan cranes his neck up to feel the full brunt of the storm hammer his face, each frosty blast a jolting reminder of how far he traveled from the last few months, the distance between him and his old stomping ground washed away as the frozen water melts over his face, droplets pouring down his brow and drenching his hair.

His face is frozen when he steps back into the shop, some run-down shithole he found in inner-city Detroit. Here, locals don’t ask questions, and there are no reminders of the mentor who was almost like a father and the girl who was almost like forever.

This time, they are miles and days and utter lives apart, and he worries that nothing on the earth will bring them together again.

~~~~~

The years flow like molasses. Fall edges into winter, which thaws into spring and heats into summer, and then it starts all over again, punishing, never ending.

The cities stack up almost as easily. After Detroit, it’s Miami, then Houston, a long stretch in Nashville before Milwaukee calls and then, finally, to the East Coast. He stops for a spell in DC, walking through shaded paths as the cherry blossoms sway above him. The pink defies imagination. He’s used to vehicle-grade candy paint, each car brighter and more audacious than the last, a parade of vibrant neons and sultry veneers that spin rainbows around tracks.

This pink is soft, petals even softer against his fingertips, and Logan feels an irrational stab of guilt for the calluses that dare grace the blossoms swaying in the wind. His dark past makes him unworthy to touch such beauty and, as he watches the petals flutter to the ground, he thinks of another beauty that slipped through his fingers.

He stays for a few months, enough to learn the grid of southeast DC and the bisecting avenues, but then spring tiptoes into summer. He’s used to the sun but the goddamn humidity makes his hair pouf into patterns he knows gentle fingers would soothe, so he heads north.

It’s a quick drive, the four lanes of 95 providing ample room to swerve and fly; he imagines another car with another driver speeding down these roads.

Finally, the wheels lead him to New York, where he trembles on a doorstep under flickering lights in this apartment building, fighting up five floors where every step made him want to vomit.

He breathes through his nose. He didn’t come all this way (trans versing the United States, multiple times, him and the Devore burning miles and gas but subsisting on memories and love) for nothing. His fingers shake and he rings the doorbell.

When it opens, she looks just as she does in his memory, eyes warm and bright, smile breaking out over the apples of her cheeks. His heart leaps.

“Logan?”

“Hi,” he breathes. He had been unsure of his reception but now, with her blinking up serenely at him, the years fade away and he’s brought back to the moment in front of her fathers house, watching the tears pool in her eyes and wishing futility on every star that life could be different.

They move at the same time; she jumps forward, and he pulls her in and their lips meet as if no time had passed, as if they had never been apart, as if distance were meaningless in the troublemaker's face who stole his heart.

“Close enough now?” He beams at her, smile so wide it hurts, cheeks pinching unfamiliarly, and he never wants to leave her side.

Her answering smile shines brighter than any shooting star he’s seen, and he knows he is right where he needs to be. “Finally.”

Tags:

Perma

@leelee10898, @client-327, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @choicesarehard, @burnsoslow, @zaffrenotes, @kat-tia801, @desiree-pow-35-1986, @ritachacha

ROD

@omgjasminesimone, @mskaneko, @alyssalauren

#logan x mc #rodaw #amy writes #playchoices fanfiction #rod choices #n*fw

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quinncupine · 3 years

Text

Taken Chapter 3: Just the Absolute Worst Day Off

Chapter Word Count: 2,219

Link: A03

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya/ Reader

Previous Chapter: Two

Next Chapter: Four

MASTERLIST

...

Izuku cancelling his plans with you that morning sucked but getting gassed, beaten up, and taken by force from your own home sucked ass. The worst part; you knew Izuku would watch that footage. It was pretty embarrassing to be so fully overwhelmed like that but at the same time it relieved you to know that he knew what had happened.

Once that idiot with the bright baby blue hair (which, by the way, did not suit him whatsoever) smashed your head in, you blacked out, unsure of how much time had passed. You woke up in some dingy room that smelled of moldy furniture with a hint of lemon. The sun was still out so maybe you weren’t asleep for that long, hopefully it was still the same day. You moved to sit up and the worn down couch underneath you whined, alerting the other person in the room.

Sitting on a window sill was a short blonde woman, staring outside. She had the whole grunge aesthetic going for her with the ripped denim and combat boots. Her pixie cut hair was frizzy and looked as though it were trying to escape her head. She regarded you with blank eyes before looking back outside.

You rubbed your head, it was throbbing but at least someone had the decency to wrap a bandage over it. “Where am I?”

The blonde didn’t look at you. “Not home.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Yeah, I gathered. Who are you?”

She sighed and leaned against the wall, swinging her leg off the sill. “Does it matter?”

What was this girls deal? You remembered her from the break-in but she seemed totally uninterested in anything now. At least she was talking to you. Having never been kidnapped before, this whole situation was a new one to work around. The good news was that you weren't restrained and this woman didn't seem to be carrying any sort of weapon. First things first, you had to get some answers.

“Well, I’d like to call you something or I could just call you Blondie.” You stood up slowly, rubbing your neck.

She rolled her eyes. “Kagome.”

She didn’t seem dangerous but you had to be careful, especially if the other two thugs were around somewhere. You didn’t fancy another meeting with them.

“So, uh, Kagome,” You looked around. “Wanna tell me why I’m here?”

“No.”

You deflated but spotted the door behind the couch. She wasn’t looking at you, maybe if you got a good head start, you might be able to run, at least until you found other people. From the window she was sitting at, you could hear cars passing every so often so at least you were somewhere populated.

You moved your head from side to side, testing out your balance. Pretty good, considering your unscheduled meeting with the floor earlier. You patted your pockets, looking for your phone.

“I’m not an idiot.” Kagome said, dangling your phone in front of her.

The phone swung slowly. She was holding it by the little Deku charm that Ochaco had given you for christmas last year. Izuku was so embarrassed but you thought it was adorable. Every time he saw the little chibi of himself he turned so red. It was quite funny to watch, but now, seeing it in her hands, you wanted to throttle her.

You huffed. Now wasn't a time to fly off the handle, you had to stay in control and get yourself out of this. You were a big girl, you didn't need to rely on Izuku, even though you wished he would just bust through the door and be done with this whole ordeal. But that didn't happen.

So back to plan A, the door. With luck, it would be unlocked, but luck didn’t seem to like you very much right now. It was a risk, but a risk you were willing to take. You would have to be fast, very fast. You took a deep breath to build up your courage. A fleeting glance at Kagome, sitting on the sill looking bored and you dashed around the couch.

Your heart raced ahead of you as you grabbed the handle. It was unlocked. Finally, something was going right. You flung the door open but waiting on the other side was Kagome. That was a left turn you were not expecting. You yelped as she pushed you back into the room, she was a lot stronger than she looked.

“Really?” She grabbed your wrist tightly and huffed. “Did you honestly expect that to work?”

You looked back at the window sill, it was empty. A quirk then, lovely. It was times like this you wished you had a quirk. But you’d lived this long without one and had to be creative in a world where you were at the disadvantage.

“Sit down before you hurt yourself.” Kagome shoved you back on the couch. “Don’t make me regret leaving you untied.”

You crossed your arms and glared at her. “Will you at least tell me where we are?”

She flashed you a dark look. “Why? Think that’ll help somehow? You just sit tight, he’ll be here soon.”

“Who?” That piqued your interest. “Are you trying to use me to lure Izuku into a trap? That’s not going to work you know.”

She rolled her eyes and jumped back on the sill. “I don’t see how she’s so special.” She muttered.

You examined the room. There wasn’t much in it besides a half broken desk shoved into a dusty corner, the couch you were currently sitting on, two moth eaten armchairs, and a rickety old coffee table. It could have been a break room or someone’s office at one point but it was obviously abandoned now. You looked for a weapon of some kind, maybe something you could use to distract her but the room was bare.

With a huff, you leaned back on the couch. “Can you at least tell me how long this is gonna take? This was supposed to be my day off you know, I don't get many of those.”

“Don’t you ever shut it.” She balled her fists.

“Can I at least look out the window? I don’t like enclosed spaces.” You asked quietly.

Kagome glared at you but eventually waved you over. “Fine, if it gets you to shut up.”

You walked over and glanced outside. The sun was pretty low in the sky and the fresh air blowing through the open window helped calm your nerves. The street was basically deserted, except for the occasional car that passed by. You didn’t recognize this area but you could see the skyline of downtown in the distance. You let out a small sigh of relief, you weren’t that far from home then.

“You’re not the boss are you?” You asked.

“Do I have to tape your mouth shut or what?” She growled.

“I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing, boss’s couldn’t be boss’s without people to follow them.” You stared out the window. “I’m just a nurse and believe me, those doctors can get pretty cocky, thinking they’re better than us. We do most of the work anyway.”

She smacked her head on the wall and opened her mouth to say something but the door opened instead and she almost fell out the window. You caught her wrist and pulled her in before she took the tumble.

“Ah my dear, I see you’re awake.” A tall skinny man in jeans and a polo entered the room. “I hope your head isn’t bothering you too much. I’ve brought some medicine if it is.”

You raised a brow. These people didn’t seem very vicious and they hadn’t really threatened you yet but there was just something dangerous about his smile that seemed to cut across his face. He was definitely not someone to mess around with, your only chance was to convince Kagome to let you go.

“And who are you?” You crossed your arms, trying hard not to show the tremble in your hands.

“Me?” He looked shocked. “You don’t remember me? You must have gotten hit harder than I thought. Let me look at that wound.” He came over to you but you quickly backed up, running into Kagome.

“Don’t touch me.” You growled, swatting his hand away.

He frowned but backed off.

A tremor shook the building and dust rained down from the ceiling, that was definitely not an earthquake. Something was going on above you and hope swelled in your chest, it had to be him.

“Those fools are going to bring the building down, I’m going to go check on them.” The man said and left the room.

You turned back to Kagome. “If you let me go now, I’ll forget I ever saw you.”

She shook her head. “Sorry, not gonna happen.”

“Then at least-” A second blast rocked the building so hard that you stumbled.

Kagome steadied herself on the windowsill and you saw the tip of your phone peeking out of her pocket. If you could get that, then you could call for help. You leaned against her, pressing your arm into her shoulder.

“You alright?” You asked, reaching into her pocket.

“I’m fine, get off.” She threw you off and you jumped back, your phone behind you.

Now, all you had to do was call him without her realizing. Easier said than done. You made your way over to the couch, baking up slowly, staring at the ceiling in mock fear. You sat down, the phone safely stashed in your hand.

Kagome’s own phone rang. She gazed at you before answering it but remained silent. She narrowed her eyes and leaned to look out the window, listening to whoever was on the other end.

You quickly glanced behind you, luckily your last call had been to him. You hit redial but you also accidently hit the speaker and the sound of the call echoed around the room.

Kagome whipped around, patting her pocket. “Clever.”

She suddenly appeared in front of you so fast that you barely had time to dodge her hand that tried to swipe the phone back. You kicked her in the stomach and she stumbled.

The phone clicked and you heard Izuku’s stiff voice answer. “Hello?”

You rolled off the couch as she tried to jump on top of you. “Izuku!” You cried into the phone. You tried to run to the door. “I’m do-” Kagome tackled you from behind and the phone flew out of your hands.

You landed on the floor, smacking your chin so hard your teeth rattled. The air flew out of your lungs as she pressed her knees into your back. You tried telling him that you were just below him but her knee was pressing so hard into your lungs that all that came out was a gasping groan.

“Stop! You cant!” She sounded scared and slammed a hand over your mouth.

You screamed every profanity you could at her but most of it was a muffled “mmpphh.”

The door opened and the man from before stepped in and picked up the phone. You could still hear Izuku frantically calling for you. He put the phone up to his ear and listened for a minute before opening his mouth. A horrible squeal tore through the room. You slapped your hands over your ears but even after it stopped, all you could hear was a deafening ringing and something warm dripping from your ears.

Behind you, Kagome fell off, clutching her own ears but she didn’t say anything.

“Really Kagome, can I not trust you with one simple task? Well, no matter, our ride is here. Please escort her down.” The man said as he pocketed the phone.

Kagome hauled you to your feet. You were about to lunge for the phone again, but the world did a three sixty and you would’ve fallen over if she didn’t have an iron grip on your arm. You were now outside the building, staring at a black car with tinted windows. You looked around, the world still spinning but you could make out an enormous ice structure that ran up the side of the building. That had to be Shoto but he was nowhere to be found. If Shoto was here, then Izuku was definitely here.

Before you had time to react, she shoved you inside the back of the car and slammed the door on you. You tried to open the door but she must have set the child locks, humiliating really. Next, you tried to kick out the windows but they must have been reinforced or you just weren't very strong. (Let's go with the former.) The car lurched forward, Kagome must have been up front, past the divider so you couldn't see her. You glared at the windows as if they were to blame, willing them to turn clear, but they didn't listen, You couldn’t see anything.

You were blind to the world.

Chapter 4

#midoriya izuku #pro hero Deku #pro hero todoroki #pro hero bakugo #deku #deku x reader #bnha #mha #izuku x reader #izuku x y/n #midoriya x reader #pro hero deku #pro hero midoriya #kidnapping #angst #minor injuries #reader insert #mystery #deku is the number one hero

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yaomomvs · 3 years

Text

ten duel commandments

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

a/n: listening to 10 duel commandments of hamilton gives me strong angst vibes so yeah. and idk is this is angst or just drama but it’s kinda inspired in the actual manga arc of this huge battle bc i’m in pain. reader’s quirk is basically earth bending like atla jajajaja. also might do a part two. idk

there are ten things you need to know.

number one.

the challenge, demand satisfaction. but not for you clearly, the temperature dropped. the alert rang in al school, another villain attack. this time it was real, this time you know there’s no thing such as flukes or surrender.

hands are shaking, barely managing to put your hero costume in the right way. the clock is ticking, you feel your classmates heavy breath. momo, mina, kota, ojiro.

him.

you make your way back to shoto. his shoulders relax at the sight of you. he holds your hands, the shiver stops. he attracts them to his chest. a kiss is stolen. you’ll make it, you are heroes. well somehow you are.

number two.

“we don’t have time to think!” kaminari snaps, he is not wrong. your professors are fighting, the plan was simple, but still the league was strong. only a fool would never admit that.

“we can’t go out there and just fight like pro heroes” momo talks back, her voice is cracked and the fear tears threaten to sneak out.

“let’s split in groups” you suggest. hope, that’s what you all need. you came to fight for a better world. for peace. “we can beat them, some of us should remain here to figure something out, while others... we’ll try to gain you guys some time”

you search for your boyfriend’s eyes. todoroki can’t stop looking at you. no, not you.

“(y/n) don’t even...”

“midoriya, you and some others are perceptive and logical, if we don’t do this we don’t have a chance”

“she’s right, and we have to do it now!” bakugou agrees, not quite liking the idea of splitting but it was the best option.

he knows they are right. but he didn’t want to let go your hand yet. you are very capable of protecting yourself, but still if something happened to you..

jirou places a hand on your shoulder and smiles to todoroki.

“we will have each other’s back” she assures your boyfriend, quite knowing how he feels. in fact no one wanted their friends and classmates to risk his life if they were not able to be there and help.

number three.

his heart doesn’t stop beating. each beat feels harder and quicker than before.

your eyes, those (y/e/c) dazzling eyes.

a hug, a passionate kiss, the clock stopping for a moment.

“please, just... stay together”

number four.

he lets your hand go, the explosions and screams, you hear them closer. the wind is cold, but blood is warm.

take a deep breath. take a huge step.

and so, you and your friends start running to the battle. there’s no way back.

but there is someone waiting for you at the end of the line.

just breathe.

have your seconds, meet face to face.

five.

his pulse increases. he searches for your hand. you are not there.

“midoriya are you sure that’s the only way?” yaoyorozu asked midoriya while quick standing up, they have no time to go through the plan all over again, but todoroki knows that she is just asking because the plan meant a huge risk for everyone.

she cared, and so did everyone.

“as the nerd said, the only thing those bastards have is time!” bakugou says while he starts running. “they know being surrounded by pros is going to be hard so they’ll try to be quick, so we’ll be faster”

“and so, that’s why we have to do it, if everything goes well, they’ll be gone in a moment” todoroki assures.

or at least he tries to trust.

because this needed to work, they currently can’t have the luxury of second chances.

and so they hurry.

number six.

he lefts a sigh of relief out when he divides you in the second line of cavalry.

blood and dirt on your face, your hands were moving as well as every inch of your body. your tired groans, your death glares to the villains. your ethereal posture.

angelic, he thinks while running to your group, he needed to explain the plan to as many people as he could.

you take a glance towards him, a sentiment of family runs through his head. a sentiment of comfort.

no, majestic. he corrects himself catching your glance.

a huge wall of ice is made between you and the horrific villain who tried to kills you, he takes care of him too, freezing his whole body.

a wall of opportunity was made.

he holds you like he’s never done before. that movement gave you a few seconds to breathe again. as well as to jirou, tsuyu and shoji. also the pros that were in charge of you.

your head on his shoulder, his heart on your palm.

a whisper, and a chance.

“i love you too”

seven!

“everyone got it?” todorki asks to the crowd. a few people reunited there.

four hero groups. a villain army. a cliff and one single opportunity.

they all nod, and so the time out is gone. momo creating cannons in the west along with heroes like gang orca and cementos. midoriya and eraser head in the north, with bunch of people two. bakugou at the south, flying with explosion with present mic and so many others behind him. and todoroki sliding with ice and you by his side. with so others at his side.

just hold a few more minutes, all you had to do is push and drop.

the crash happens, the heroes and the villains meet once again. you just have to keep pushing them back. you had to direct them to the corner of the cliff.

then you along with every other emitting quirk holder will just blast your full potential to break the cliff and let the villains fall for their destiny.

you can do it.

and you have to do it.

number eight.

confess your sins. the moment of truth, villains are despicable, ruin, and sometimes psychotic. but also, clever.

you take a step back, dabi is in front of you. you vaguely reincorporated when a huge wall of flames split you apart from todoroki.

“let’s dance, darling” he says, chaotically calm.

“believe me” your feet stuck to the ground, you clean the blood from your mouth with your sleeve “there is no better dancer than me”

you lift a earth barrier, he blows it away with fire. a big foot step and the ground shakes, causing him to unbalance. you push him a few meters away.

you wait.

you search.

you made it.

once you realize that you had push the villains to the place you exactly wanted them to be, you don’t wait. when present mic’s voice was heard all over the battlefield.

todoroki steps back leaving you and all the other heroes to do your thing.

but he doesn’t rest.

his on guard ready to react to anything that might put anyone in danger. that might put you in danger.

he concentrates himself, he is not going to lose.

he doesn’t see the huge villain going to his back, while transforming his hand to a gun.

you do.

you were holding the ground, a terrified look comes across your eyes.

and the time stops again, or at least it slows down.

a look to the cliff you were holding.

a gaze to your boyfriend. and the villain who is ready to kill him.

you can do it.

10 seconds, maybe.

you keep one hand in the ground holding it until the final sign shows up. the sign that meant “let the villains fall now”

and the other one, you quickly raise it to shouto’s direction.

your body hurts.

the villain with the gun is thrown away by a massive piece of soil that you created.

todoroki turns around. he freezes the villain.

you hold, just a little bit longer.

the cue is shouted.

and you feel how something pierces your stomach.

nine.

a heartrending scream.

todoroki’s throat hurts, everyone heard his scream.

a heart breaks.

and you still feel a cold metallic knife in you.

the energy you had starts fading away, you look around and see toga with a huge smile in her face.

the time still is slowed down.

you feel your feet part from the ground. you were now floating, small pieces of soil surrounded you.

you see todoroki, he is slowly getting far from you.

it’s breaks your heart now, his eyes, those beautiful heterochromatic eyes are desperate.

at least he is safe now.

you can go now.

an arm suddenly surrounds your waist, it hurts even more than before. you don’t know why, maybe they wanted to take you away so that your classmates suffer your loss.

dying is one thing.

but dying and being lost is something completely different.

and with the few energy that your body has, you search for your aggressor.

dabi smirks, evil. he is also holding toga with his free arm. your body enrages knowing they will escape.

villains are smart, but those two were brilliant.

you look around and see hundreds of other villains falling from the cliff.

your heartbeats slow down too.

just one more time.

you still divise him, now some feet away and higher from you.

black, everything is turning black.

‘shouto todoroki, my love’ you think ‘thank you’

‘thank you for letting me see you one last time’

and number ten.

he starts counting, everyone does.

he doesn’t care, he’ll jump.

he sees your figure, falling down from the cliff.

you body, having a knife through it.

your arm, stretched out trying to reach his. your arms calling out for someone to go your way and hold it.

you eyes, widened, terrified.

4 seconds.

his feet don’t stop, he has to reach you. his breathless, but he has to become your hero now. you were waiting for him.

he is tired, his body doesn’t seem to respond. he no longer has ice, or fire. he tries, but nothing happens.

in the limit of the cliff he still tries to jump.

someone grabs him by the collar of his suit.

11 seconds.

he watches you, being held by him. and her laughing at what she’s done to you.

todoroki’s body is shaking.

todoroki’s body is clueless.

he sees your eyes, one last time before all the dust covers you and your kidnappers.

his head hurts.

and all of that because he sees your eyes, fighting.

his soul leaves his body.

14 seconds.

because the last thing he sees of you is your eyes closing.

his heart stops.

and he knows he is not there to see them opening again.

“please... just”

hand to his chest, holding back the tears.

“STAY ALIVE” he shouts into the void of the cliff bottom.

one phrase.

one scream.

one echoed broken voice.

one tired hero army.

only 21 seconds.

and one heartbroken teenager was all the battle left.

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polaroid15 · 3 years

Text

With Great Power

FINAL CHAPTER!! 🥳'With great power comes saving the world'

Summary: Endgame, but with a lil' Peter-weilding-mjollnir twist :)

Read on Ao3 HERE

---------

Peter is back.

Peter is alive.

Tony looks at him in detached amazement. Because it’s really him, enthusiastic and animated as the day he had lost him.

“Do you remember when we were in space...”

His kid. Peter. Everything is a blur.

“...and then he started doing that yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time-”

Unable to prevent it another second, he pulls Peter into a hug, pressing his cheek into the kid’s hair. Peter stills under his touch, his light breaths filling Tony’s ears. It feels like a miracle.

“What are you doing?”

His throat is too tight to respond.

“Oh. This is nice.” Peter returns the hug, completing the orbit. And just like that it’s all worth it. Every damn sacrifice.

Everything clicks into place.

“God kiddo. I sure missed you,” he croaks. Peter curls his fingers into Tony’s back.

The battle rages on around them. Destruction, fear. It’s not over. They’re a spark in a dark room, a single seed of victory.

“I missed you too.”

They separate and a physical pain rips through Tony’s chest. The world around him is blurry and he works quickly to blink the moisture out of his eyes.

“Thanos can’t win,” Peter says.

“He’s strong.”

“We’re stronger. Together.”

Struggling to swallow his emotion, Tony places his hands on either side of Peter’s face and wipes his thumbs across his cheekbones. Not dust. Solid. Real. “What’s your plan kiddo?”

Because now, more than ever, Tony has something to fight for.

-----

Tony tries hard to stay with Peter, but they're too outnumbered, too outgunned. He loses him to the chaos not even fifteen minutes after their reunion and tries to ignore the building panic in his chest.

“FRI. Keep me updated on the kid.”

“Yes sir.”

He fights alongside his family and prays that Peter is right- that they can win. That soon, it will all be over.

Across the field, through dozens of falling alien soldiers, he sees Peter and his heart catches in his throat.

Because he’s carrying the gauntlet. It’s in his arms, and Tony can’t breathe. He turns to blast to the boy’s aid and is intercepted by half a dozen opponents.

Peter is on his own.

-----

Peter can count on one hand how many times he’s been more afraid than the moment he’s living right now. Sprinting with all his might with all infinity stones tucked against his chest.

The stones that had stolen five years from his life.

The stones that he doesn’t fully comprehend the consequences of yet.

Holding the gauntlet makes him a priority target. He flips and dodges and shoots webs, but he still gets hit.

Hard.

One particularly rough attack has him slammed into the earth, creating a crater with the sheer force of his body. Karen lights up his screen in ugly alerts about his health as he blinks stars out of his eyes. The alien that had landed him there appears above him, snarling and raising the hand to finish him off.

Peter closes his eyes.

The blow never comes.

Slowly, with every muscle in his body shaking, he opens his eyes. A woman stands above him, practically glowing with strength. Captain Marvel.

“Hi,” he wheezes. “I’m- I’m Peter Parker.”

“Hey Peter Parker. You got something for me?”

Though his body begs him to stay down, Peter forces his limbs into cooperation until he’s on his feet, grunting when it makes him dizzy. “I don’t know how you’re going to get it through all that.”

But the smile on Captain Marvel’s face gives him renowned confidence. He hands over his burden and sags when its weight leaves his hands.

-----

FRIDAY pushes Peter’s vitals in front of Tony’s eyes and he curses, feeling acid crawl up his throat. “Connect me to his com.”

There’s an explosion somewhere to his right. He hits the tail end of the blast and rolls across the rock, the breath knocked out of his chest. An alien falls out of the sky towards him and he shoots it away before it can hit him.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter gasps through the line. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You on the other hand- what were you thinking? Grabbing the gauntlet like that-”

“I had to! There was no other choice!”

“There’s always a choice, Pete. And you always choose the dangerous one.”

Peter’s laugh fills his ears and it’s almost enough to ebb away the biting edges of his anxiety. But then it tapers away into a shout, followed closely by webbing and clanging metal.

“Kid?” Tony prompts urgently. “You okay? Where are you?”

“F-fine. Ow. I’m fine Mr. Stark. I got him.”

“Where’s the gauntlet?”

“Captain Marvel.”

Tony dips in relief, trying to navigate the kid’s location. “Good, that’s good. Try and find somewhere safe, okay?”

“What? No! I- I have to help.”

“Kid, tap out. You have fifteen broken bones!”

“But Mr. Stark- that means I still have 191 working ones!”

Tony gapes, lost for words as he dodges another attack. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

If Peter responds, it’s lost to his ears. Something hits him hard in his side, so hard that for a moment it whites out his vision. He lands ungracefully, skidding and moaning. Peter’s voice is distant static in his ears and he tries desperately to hang onto it.

When he opens his eyes, Thanos stands above him.

-----

“Mr. Stark? Oh man. Can you hear me?”

Peter’s pulse is threatening to shoot straight through his skin. Tony’s ragged breaths fill his ears, sending shivers down his back. “Mr. Stark! Crap- Karen. Plot me a route to Mr. Stark’s location.”

The LED display maps out the route and Peter wastes no time. He slips through the battle like an arrow through water, his worry dulling every other instinct. When he crests a hill he sees his mentor pressed into the ground, Thanos’s boot grinding down on his chest.

“MR. STARK!”

Peter swings faster than he ever has in his life, heartbeat in his ears and his adrenaline giving him the strength he doesn’t have. With another violent scream he swings straight into Thanos’s side, kicking him in the head and effectively knocking him away from Tony’s writhing body. Thanos hits the ground hard, scrambling for purchase before rising to his feet. He stares at Peter with a sadistic sense of admiration.

Trying to block out Tony’s fight for air, Peter stands in front of him, arms splayed out wide. “Don’t touch him.”

“A fighter. I can respect that.” Thanos takes a step forward and Peter tenses. Behind him, he sees Captain America and Thor fighting a ten-foot tall giant. He thinks he sees Thor catch his eye. “But I am afraid your efforts are useless.”

“I won’t stop. I’m not afraid of you.”

But he is. Terrified.

“You would give your life for that man?” Thanos drawls, eyes darkening. From behind Peter, he hears Tony trying to get up and failing.

“Yes.”

“P-Peter. Go-”

But Peter doesn’t move. He blocks Thanos’s first punch and spins away from the second. The third he isn’t so lucky. It hits him hard in the chest and he flies back, skidding towards where Thor and Steve are fighting. Tony cries out. It’s the only thing keeping him conscious.

Thanos looms over Tony’s body, a look of victory on his face. “This man is the reason for this fight. He deserves to die.”

Peter can’t breathe. Thanos picks up a broken spear off the ground.

He raises it above Tony’s head.

“I am inevitable.”

A tug in Peter’s gut gives him what he needs to do next. In a blur of emotion and panic, he shoots to his feet and instead of looking at Tony, he turns to look at Thor. Surprisingly, the man’s eyes are locked onto his own. A millisecond of silent communication is all they need.

Thor throws his hammer. Peter reaches out his hand.

He catches it, the weapon feather-light in his hand. Before he can process the success he leaps forward with all his strength, swinging mjollnir as if it were destined, in this very moment, to be wielded by his hand.

Thanos’s eyes light in surprise. He shifts the spear towards Peter in futile defense, something like real fear in his eyes. Mjollnir, sparking with lightning, cracks hard against his head and he falls to the earth as if in slow motion. Peter stands above his body, limbs numb, chest heaving, and mjollnir curled tightly in his hand. Thanos doesn’t get up.

“P-Peter-”

Spinning around, Peter finds Tony fighting for air against a slab of jagged rock, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He moves his eyes from Peter’s face to the hammer in his hand, looking just as disbelieving as Peter feels.

“Mr. Stark!” he drops to his knees beside his fallen mentor, hands shaking as they reach out to assess the damage. “Are you- oh god- are you okay?”

But Tony merely blinks, his eyes still trained on the hammer.

“Mr. Stark?”

The shock on Tony’s face morphs into a smile. It makes a split on his lip bleed. “I always knew you’d be worthy,” he says softly.

And then he passes out.

-----

Peter defends Tony with the rest of his energy, Thor and Steve by his side. They fight until the army dissolves.

“Someone snapped,” Steve says, looking in awe over the battlefield. “It’s over.”

Over.

Peter falls back to the ground by Tony and shakes his shoulders. “Wake up Mr. Stark. We won.”

We won.

After more prompting, Tony groans and opens his eyes into slits. They widen after connecting with Peter. “Kid?” he whispers.

“We won Tony,” he says.

Tony chokes on a sob. Though obviously painful, he sits up and pulls Peter into a hug, and Peter returns the gesture with equal force. The dying embers of the battle fall around them, cries of victory still ringing out over the field.

“You called me Tony.”

Peter laughs, though it ends in a relieved sob. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Nope,” Tony interjects. To Peter’s surprise, he presses his lips into his hair. “You broke the seal. It’s Tony now, kiddo.”

Peter relaxes more fully against Tony’s hold, his adrenaline fading, the aches and pains of the battle starting to hit him like a freight train. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he says quietly, so only he can hear.

“Oh kiddo-”

They hug with the intent of never letting go.

-----

Later that night, safely back on earth, Tony finds Peter in medbay. Though bandaged head to toe himself, he’s running around busily by Bruce’s side, helping treat the rest of the team. Tony stands by the door, crossing his arms and admiring the sight with a warmth in his chest.

Thor comes to stand by his side. “Your son saved the world today.”

Your son. Tony doesn’t bother correcting him. “He did.”

“And by lifting Mjollner. That is no small feat.”

Tony smiles. He can’t help it. “I know.”

-----

When the chaos dies down, Tony tracks Peter to a vacant couch in the lab. He’s sprawled out on his back half asleep.

“Pete? What are you doing down here?”

Blinking sleepy at him, Peter shrugs. “S’quiet down here. Familiar. I missed it.”

His eyes sting again. God, Stark. Pull it together. “Mind if I sit?” he asks.

Peter shakes his head, moving to accommodate Tony with a smile. “I talked to May,” he tells him. “She’s safe. I’ll be able to see her tomorrow once the roads open back up.”

“That’s great news.”

“Yeah. Ned and MJ too. Everyone- everyone is safe.”

Tony smiles. It really is over. “I did it all for you, you know.”

A short silence. Peter shuffles to sit up further, his hair disheveled. “What did you say?”

“I did it all for you,” Tony repeats, looking stubbornly at the wall. “Time travel, I mean. I invented time travel to get you back.”

Peter chokes. Doesn’t speak.

“I wasn’t going to do it at first,” Tony continues, “when they first asked me. But then I saw this old picture of us and- and I knew I wouldn’t be able to live another day without at least trying.”

“Tony-”

“Five years was too long. I should have done it sooner and I’m sorry.”

“Tony!”

Finally, he looks. The kid’s eyes are glistening, his cheeks flushed red. Then, he smiles. “I can’t- I don’t- I don’t know what to say.”

Lips quirking, Tony pulls Peter into his side and ruffles his hair. “You don’t have to say anything, kiddo. You saved my bacon today more than once. By wielding a magic hammer, for the record.”

Peter makes a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat. “That was pretty cool, wasn’t it?”

A phrase pops into his head, something that Peter had told him years ago. “With great power comes great responsibility,” he says. “Your Uncle would’ve been proud.”

Peter moves to look at him, brown eyes impossibly wide. “You remember.”

“Of course I do. Don’t insult my memory. I know it’s been five years but I’m not that much older-”

Peter chuckles. For a moment, they sit in perfect silence. Tony could live in it for a hundred lifetimes.

“Thanks for bringing me back,” Peter whispers, eyelids drooping.

“You’re family Pete. Family stays together.” He pauses, smiles. “Speaking of which… you have a little sister.”

“What?!”

#peter parker #tony stark #protective peter parker #endgame #endgame fix it #mjollnir #peter is worthy #hurt peter parker #peter parker whump #found family #irondad #irondad fic #my fic #tony stark acting as peter parkers parental figure

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writingfeatherduster · 3 years

Text

A Warm Feeling

Chapter Two: Exhaustion

Summary: Sans is tired to the point of feeling ill. Once again, Grillby helps.

Warnings for this chapter: Nightmares, sleep deprivation, anxiety, almost 4000 words I had to loosely edit to fit a satisfying Tumblr format that surely got a little jumbled in the copy-paste process

Chapter One

Read this on Archive of Our Own or Wattpad!

“SANS! TIME TO GET UP, LAZYBONES! I’M MAKING BREAKFAST SPAGHETTI AND IF IT’S COLD BY THE TIME YOU GET DOWN HERE I’M NOT REHEATING IT FOR YOU!”

Sans’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Papyrus’s voice. He groaned, rolling over onto his side. It was the day after Grillby had walked him home, and he had just started to fall asleep. Leftover anxiety from his nightmare had kept him up all night, his mind tormenting him with ‘what ifs’ and memories of unpleasant past runs. Nightmares and anxiety weren’t uncommon for Sans, but it had been awhile since it was that bad. He wanted to just close his eyes and ignore his brother, but then again, warm breakfast spaghetti was much better than cold spaghetti.

Sans sat up and stretched in a vain attempt to relieve the aching in his bones, grabbing his hoodie and throwing it on before he made his way downstairs. “Alright, alright,” he mumbled, “I’m up. Geez Paps, no need to get so rattled up.”

Papyrus groaned from the kitchen. “That was a stretch even for you!”

“Hey, I just woke up. It’s the best I got.” Sans chuckled and made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of plates.

If Papyrus had pupils, his expression said that he’d be rolling his eyes. He focussed back on stirring his spaghetti sauce, letting his exasperation go for a moment. “So,” he said, “After work, I’m going to Undyne’s house to train, but I won’t be coming home. Dr. Alphys is letting Undyne borrow something called ‘anime’. Apparently it’s some kind of documentary about humans? Undyne wants me to spend the night to watch it with her and to teach me about human fighting! It may not be MTT TV, but it sounds educational!”

Something in Sans’s soul shivered at the idea of Papyrus being out of his sight the entire day. He really didn’t want to be alone in the house, and having his brother nearby helped him feel a bit more secure when his anxiety was running high. He wanted to ask Papyrus to stay home, but… how could he? Papyrus sounded really excited, and Sans felt stupid for being so clingy. “Sounds great, Paps,” Sans managed to mumble, grabbing forks and putting them on the table. Did they go on the right or the left of the plate? Eh, he couldn’t remember. He’d just put them at the top of the plate instead. Good enough.

Papyrus seemed to sense Sans's hesitation, voice taking on a tone of worry. "If… if that's not 'great', brother, I can ask Undyne if we could reschedule. I know you haven't been sleeping well, and that you get lonely when I'm not here…"

"Nah, Paps, it's fine," Sans attempted to reassure him. When Papyrus continued to look unconvinced, the shorter skeleton pulled on the best nonchalant smile he could manage. When Papyrus still looked unconvinced, he chuckled nervously. "Something in your expression tells me you're not going to take 'I'm fine' for an answer." He let the smile fade with a sigh, posture sagging. God, trying to appear fine as usual for even a minute had been exhausting. "Fine," he admitted, "I'm not doing great, but it's not a big deal, Paps. Definitely not a big enough deal for you to start cancelling plans."

"AHA!" Papyrus cried, brandishing a wooden spoon at Sans. "So you ADMIT that there is, in fact, a deal!"

"Sure," Sans chuckled, "I got plenty of deals. I'm selling wood carvings at three G a piece." Papyrus would've arched an eyebrow if he'd had one.

"Sans, you don't make wood carvings."

"That's why they're so cheap."

The taller skeleton groaned, nearly forgetting to take his sauce off the stove. "It doesn't work like- ugh, nevermind! I can see you don't want to talk about it. However," he continued, straightening up a bit to make a 'grand declaration', "If you need me for any reason, you need only call upon me, and I will return home!"

Sans smiled at his brother, his nerves briefly put at ease by Papyrus's antics. Yeah, Paps would only be a call away, right? Besides, Sans could handle a little nightmare or two on his own. He'd been fine. Everything would be fine.

Still, as the skeletons chatted over breakfast, Sans couldn't help the feeling of uneasy anticipation that followed him up. He could make it through one anxious evening on his own… right?

Sans wandered up to his post in the forest, grabbing a bottle of ketchup he’d left behind before going back around to the front and sitting down. He let his head fall back against the wood with a soft thunk. His bones ached in protest as he settled into the snow, causing him to groan. Usually he would just take a shortcut to his post from Snowdin, but he’d learned his lesson about a dozen resets ago. Shortcuts while tired? Never ended well. So, he’d had to walk all the way out to his post in the woods. He was pretty sure the walk had spent the last of the energy he had left. He would usually go all the way to the door in the woods, but even the thought of that little extra distance made him want to throw up. Or cry. Maybe both. It was just one of those days.

He took a swig from the ketchup bottle and kept his eyes on the snow-covered road, ignoring how the light reflecting off of it gave him a headache. He resolved to just keep an eye out for Frisk from his new favorite seat. It had been four days, so they could come out of the Ruins at any moment. Seriously, what was taking them so long? Sans almost wanted to just blast through the door and go find out himself. Eh, maybe on the next run. Wouldn’t that be a shock for Frisk? To see Sans in the Ruins? If he took a shortcut, maybe he could even get to them before Toriel.

Sans closed his eye sockets as he let his thoughts wander, sighing. He was actually starting to feel really comfortable. The snow was cold, yeah, but it took him way longer to get uncomfortably cold than other monsters, because of the whole ‘no skin’ thing. It must have snowed early that morning, because the top layer of powder was light and fluffy, supporting Sans’s back a bit more as he sank into it.

A tap on Sans’s shoulder caught his attention and he slowly opened his eyes. When he did, his whole body tensed.

Frisk.

The human child’s hands were covered in dust, and they were smirking as they tapped Sans awake with the tip of their toy knife. They raised it, and the skeleton didn’t even have a chance to react before-

Sans jolted awake with a shout, eye flaring blue as he gripped his chest, trying to steady his breathing as he oriented himself. He must have dozed off at some point without realizing. Shit. What if Frisk really had snuck up on him? What if Frisk snuck past him? He quickly straightened up and looked down the road. Thankfully, the snow leading down towards the door to the Ruins was untouched, bearing no human footprints, or any footprints at all. The fact that Sans wasn’t buried in snow proved that there hadn’t been any recent snowfall to cover up footprints, either. Frisk was still in the Ruins. For now, everyone in Snowdin was okay.

It occurred to Sans just how cold he’d gotten, a shiver running through him. Jeez, how long was he sitting in the snow? He really needed to start wearing a watch or something. His internal clock wasn’t super reliable when he was so tired his hands were shaking. Ignoring the protests of his joints, the skeleton got to his feet. He had to lean against his sentry post for a moment as a wave of dizziness came over him. Now that Sans had gotten a brief moment of rest, his body seemed determined to make him go back to sleep. At all costs. That couldn’t be good.

Sans turned and looked back the way he came. It was going to be a long walk home, and the longer he stayed up, the worse he felt. He could sleep at his station like he used to, sure, but after laying in the snow for who knows how long the cold was starting to get to him. He could wait until Papyrus came to check on him and ask his brother for help, but then Papyrus was sure to go home with him and fret. Frisk could show up at any moment… but what could Sans even do in this state? He probably couldn’t even stick to his usual routine, swaying tiredly on his feet as he contemplated his next move. Looking back down the road at the glistening snow, Sans made his choice. He was going home. Now. He’d get some rest before going to his Waterfall post. Then Papyrus wouldn’t suspect a thing, and Sans could recover a bit before Paps went to Undyne’s. After all, there was no way Sans was going to sleep with Papyrus gone.

Cutting through the woods to avoid most of the other sentry posts and puzzles, Sans made his way back towards Snowdin, stumbling a bit as he did. After a close call where he nearly lost his balance on the narrow wood bridge leading towards town, he was starting to think that he was developing a crush on his mattress. He did his best to look at least semi-alert as he walked through town, waving to others who acknowledged him as they went about their day.

As he passed Grillby’s, Sans slowed to a stop, looking up at the sign and briefly thinking about the night before. Come to think of it, he’d gotten a good few hours of sleep while he was sitting at Grillby’s bar. It wasn’t enough, considering those few hours probably accounted for most of the sleep Sans had gotten in the past four days, but he couldn’t imagine how much worse he would be feeling right then without it. Not only that, but Grillby had let Sans stay late, allowing the skeleton to have that much-needed rest without being disturbed. Grillby probably didn’t know how much that meant to him. Sans made a mental note to thank the bartender again later, not sure if he had given him a proper ‘thank you’ yet.

The door opening pulled Sans from his thoughts. Speak- or think- of the devil. Grillby had stepped outside, walking over to Sans with a slight frown. “Sans? Are you alright? You’ve been standing outside for a good ten minutes.”

Really? That long? Sans had been sure he only paused for a moment. “Yeah, I’m alright,” the skeleton mumbled, “Just lost in thought I guess.”

“Well,” Grillby said with a lingering hint of worry, “Why don’t you go ahead and come inside? I was about to break for lunch, myself, and I wouldn’t mind a bit of company.”

It took Sans a moment to catch up with what the bartender said, but when he did, he chuckled. “This isn’t a trick to make me rack up a larger tab, is it?”

Grillby couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth twitched upward slightly at the comment. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll take care of that yourself later. This one is on the house.”

Grillby led the way into the bar. It was pretty slow, the only patrons being the usuals that hung around taking up seats pretty much from open to close. Sans moved to go sit at his usual barstool, but was pleasantly surprised when Grillby put a hand on his shoulder and guided him past the bar and into the kitchen. The kitchen was surprisingly small and very clean. “Nice setup you got here, Grilbz,” Sans commented lightly. “I honestly kinda expected a fancier lineup, with how busy you get some nights. Color me impressed.”

If Sans didn’t know any better, he’d say Grillby was blushing. The bartender adjusted his glasses a bit, clearing his throat. “W-well, I light to keep a tight ship, and it’s just me back here. Anyway, there’s a couple of chairs and a small table in the back right corner, over there. I’ll cook us up some lunch, you make yourself comfortable,” Grillby said invitingly.

Sans didn’t have to be told twice. He made himself comfortable in a folding chair as he watched Grillby cook, sighing as his sore legs got some relief. The kitchen was comfortably warm, and Sans found himself in danger of falling asleep again, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Grillby glanced up at the skeleton, then looked back down at the stove, where he was toasting the bun for Sans’s burger. He carefully broke the silence, softly asking, “Did you get any sleep last night? You look exhausted.”

Sans shrugged, finding himself being surprisingly candid with Grillby. “A little. Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Grillby finished putting together the burger and grabbed a bottle of ketchup, walking over to Sans and putting both in front of him. “Perhaps you should stay here while I call your brother…”

“No!” Sans sat up straighter, then took a deep breath to calm himself down. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to worry him. He’s got plans tonight, and you know how he is. He’ll cancel to fret over me the second he thinks something is wrong.” He looked down at the plate and mumbled a, “Thanks, by the way,” before picking up the burger and biting into it. The warmth from the food seemed to spread through him, making him relax back into his chair again. Was it bad that all it took was a burger to put him at ease for a moment? He swallowed and sighed contently, then noticed that Grillby was watching him. “Really, Grillbz, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

Grillby debated with himself for a moment, then decided to let it go. “Alright, if you say so.” The timer on the fryer went off and he got up, taking out the fries and tossing them in salt before dumping them into a basket. To Sans’s surprise, Grillby got another basket out and lined it with paper, preparing a small salad for himself.

“Uh, Grillby?” Sans prompted with amusement, “Doesn’t a basket of fries cancel out like, all the health benefits of eating a salad?”

Grillby rolled his eyes. “For your information, I just happen to like salads. I prefer to have a light lunch, anyway.” He went over to the table and sat across from Sans. “Health has nothing to do with it. Besides, you’re one to talk. How many of my burgers do you eat a week? Excuse me, I meant a day?”

Sans set the already half-eaten burger down, putting his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay! Don’t go turning into Papyrus on me. My bro already gives me an earful about my eating habits, and I don’t even have ears.”

Grillby chuckled, starting to pick at his fries. “Well, just tell me that it’s because you like my cooking, and I’ll let it slide.”

Sans lowered his hands with a smirk. “Okay. It’s because I like your cooking. You make a mean burger, Grillbz, and I mean it.”

Okay, that time Grillby definitely blushed. “I-i- oh, um, thank you,” the bartender stammered, caught off guard. He didn’t think Sans would actually say it!

The skeleton laughed, wiping his hands on his shorts as he leaned back in his chair. He hadn’t felt this relaxed all day. It was… nice. “Thanks for this, Grillby. Sure beats eating lunch alone at home.” He picked up the ketchup bottle and took a long drink, setting the bottle down when he was done and leaning back in his chair. He was warm, he was fed… and he felt safe. Tucked in the corner of the quiet kitchen, Sans felt completely hidden from the world. He let his eyes drift closed, taking a deep breath…

And barely a moment later, he had finally fallen asleep.

Later that day, Sans stirred slightly, barely aware as someone draped something soft over him and lifted him out of the chair he’d fallen asleep in. He wanted to protest being carried, but instead he found himself curling into the chest of whoever was holding him, mumbling something incoherent that vaguely resembled the word ‘warm’. Whoever it was chuckled, a deep vibration in their chest that comforted the skeleton somehow. Sans sighed as he resigned himself to his new position, settling into the person’s arms…

The next thing he could remember was cold. He shivered slightly and the person carrying him paused to adjust the soft material Sans was wrapped in to cover him better. The snow crunched under their feet as they walked, and Sans could have sworn, for just a moment, that they were humming.

A sudden shift in angle caused Sans to squint his eyes open, confused. He was… in his bedroom, laying on his mattress. The only light in the room was the warm glow coming from the figure that was tucking a blanket over him. “Grillbz…?”

Grillby smiled down gently at Sans. “It’s alright,” he reassured, “Just go back to sleep.”

That was all the encouragement Sans needed.

When Sans woke up, light was filtering in through his window. A glance at his phone- when had he plugged that in?- informed him that it was a little past nine in the morning. By his standards, he was up early. By Papyrus’s standards, he’d slept in. He was definitely late for work.

Sans sat up and stretched, back and shoulders popping as everything shifted back into place. Something fell off his shoulders and he glanced down. That… wasn’t his blanket. Blinking in confusion, Sans picked up the warm black jacket he’d been wrapped in, confused. Come to think of it, how did he even get home? He had to admit, most of the day before had been a blur. He’d been exhausted out of his mind, after all. The last thing he could remember was eating lunch with Grillby.

Now that he was paying full attention to his situation, Sans realized that he felt surprisingly well rested. He hadn’t been disturbed by nightmares or resurfacing memories all night. When was the last time that had happened? His morning was just getting stranger and stranger, though not exactly in a bad way. Of course, now that he was sitting up, his bladder made its complaints known and he was forced to get out of bed. He could solve the jacket mystery later. For now, he supposed he should get his day started.

One trip to the bathroom and a shower later, and Sans was feeling more alert than he had in… he didn’t even know how long. The skeleton threw on some gym shorts and a t-shirt, heading back towards his room. That’s when Sans finally noticed him.

Glancing down into the living room, Sans did a double take. Grillby was laying on his side on the couch, glasses askew. There was a book sitting open on the floor, indicating that the bartender had fallen asleep reading. Grillby had not only taken Sans home, but had stayed with him, trying to stay awake in case his friend had another nightmare.

As Sans realized what had happened, he felt himself grow warm with embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to worry his friend, much less make him feel the need to stay the night! Despite that, Sans was actually kind of touched. No, he was definitely touched. Slipping back into his room, he grabbed the blue blanket off his mattress, quietly taking it downstairs and draping it over the sleeping fire monster. He made his way into the kitchen, thinking. He wasn’t a great cook, but hey, he could get some coffee started and at least try to operate the toaster.

Sans was just pulling the fifth and sixth pieces of burnt toast (seriously, how could anyone make a toaster this complicated) when he heard a yawn coming from the living room, followed by sleepy grumbling. He poured a cup of (thankfully not burned) coffee and headed that way, smiling a bit when he saw Grillby sitting up on the couch. “Hey. The librarians are going to get onto you if you keep leaving books laying on the floor. The pages get bent that way.”

Grillby sighed and rolled his eyes. “Good morning to you too,” he mumbled gruffly. “Did you sleep well?”

Okay, Sans should not have shivered when Grillby said that, but he certainly didn’t expect Grillby’s voice to be gravelly in that way when he woke up. It made the skeleton think of a campfire, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “U-um, pretty good,” Sans managed. He held the cup of coffee out, which Grillby accepted gratefully.

The two sat in silence for a moment, neither of them sure what to say. Finally, Grillby spoke up. “Are you feeling any better? You looked like you felt awful yesterday.”

Sans chuckled. “Honestly? I didn’t even know how bad I felt until I woke up feeling better this morning. Thanks for bringing me home. Again.” He glanced at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did you stay up late with me?” he asked shyly. “You really didn’t have to. But, um, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Grillby said simply. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I know that you can’t sleep without Papyrus home when you’re feeling anxious. Besides… I… well, I wanted to stay. I was worried.” He blushed and sipped on his coffee, not meeting Sans’s eyes.

“Worried?” Sans looked up at Grillby. This guy was just full of surprises lately, huh? “Aww, Grillbz,” Sans chuckled, unable to help teasing. “That was really sweet of you. I guess you can say you had a burning desire to help me?”

Grillby groaned. “Not before I’ve finished my coffee, Sans.”

You could have read this a day early! Stay updated on the latest chapters by viewing on Archive of Our Own or Wattpad. Also, if you've gotten this far, consider reblogging or just leaving a comment so other people can see this (and so I can stay motivated to keep writing). Thank you, and I hope you've enjoyed the story so far!

#undertale #sans #papyrus #grillby #sansby #sans x grillby #undertale fic #fanfic #my writing #dustywrites #how do you tag stuff #undertale a warm feeling #dusty fic

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wondersofdreaming · 3 years

Text

Lost Boys - NINE

Characters: August Walker / Captain Syverson / Walter Marshall

Word count: 1.204

Warnings: Guns. Explosion. Deception. Alcohol consumption. Cunning people. World domination.

Author’s note: Finally, after 6 months of being blocked to write this chapter, I found some inspiration to write this story again.

Divider by @firefly-graphics!

Everything in this story is a figment of my imagination, with inspiration and snippets from the movies ‘Mission: Impossible - Fallout’, ‘Sand Castle’, ‘Nomis/Night Hunter’. This is pure fanfiction. If something doesn’t make sense, it’s not supposed to.

I do now own any of the characters from the movies that I write about in this story. Only the OFC’s are mine.

Feedback is appreciated.

MASTERLIST

[ONE] [TWO] [THREE] [FOUR] [FIVE] [SIX] [SEVEN] [EIGHT] [TEN]

“August? Is that you?”

The woman looked Walter up and down until her gaze landed on Lucas who was standing behind him together with Melanie. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she collapsed. Walter caught her before she hit her head on the cold hardwood floor.

He lifted her into his muscular arms and carried her towards the living room. Walter carefully lay her on the worn sofa. Melanie trotted to the kitchen. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, the counters filled to the brim with canned food that looked brand new. She tried to turn on the tap for some water, but only a thick brown substance came out from the rusty pipes.

She then turned to the fridge and found it filled to the brim with bottled water, all with the same date printed on them. She grabbed one and went back to the living room, who was gaining consciousness.

“Who are you?” she mumbled, opening her eyes a little to look at the two brothers, who were standing at the door to the back garden. Both with a grim expression on their bearded faces. Their foreheads wrinkled in the exact same way.

“I’m Lucas, and this is my brother Walter. We are August’s brothers, in search for him,” Lucas started.

“Please, ma’am. Drink before you continue to speak,” Melanie urged her and handed the poor woman the bottle of water.

“I… I... don’t know anything,” she started sobbing. Her hands were shaking as she took another big gulp of water.

“Mrs Walker, it’s okay, take a deep breath for me,” Melanie took a few deep breaths with Amanda Walker. It took a few tries but she calmed down enough to stop shaking.

“Mrs…” Walter started saying.

“Amanda, please. I… I never liked being called that.”

“Amanda, when was the last time you saw your son?”

She pushed her brows together, trying to think. A few tears escaped her sorrow-filled eyes.

“It has been years. I haven’t seen him… since… since… sin…” Amanda started sobbing hysterically, throwing her arms around Melanie, who awkwardly patted her back. She cast a glance back to the brothers who looked as perplexed as she felt.

It took a while for Amanda Walker to stop crying, but she told them about the accident that had cost her daughter’s life. She blamed herself the entire time they were with her. She mumbled over and over that she should have picked up Ashley.

They gathered that Ashley was the smiling little girl in the photographs that were spread across the living room. August was in some of the pictures, but he wasn’t smiling or laughing. He was usually standing behind his sister with a protective hand on her shoulder. There was a thick layer of dust covering the frames and every other surface in the room.

“Amanda, is there someone we can call? Someone, who can come and stay with you?” Melanie asked.

“No, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, dears,” she gave them a sad smile and waved at them, as they drove away.

“They came asking for you, son,” Amanda told August through the burner phone.

“Did you play the vulnerable and sad woman?” August chuckled. He was thoroughly amused and impressed by his adoptive mother’s acting skills.

“Didn’t suspect a thing,” Amanda smiled. “But we have to start phase 2 soon. Your failure in Kashmir has set us back. Go in hiding for now. Wait for my message. Do not do anything stupid, August.”

“Yes, mommy,” August promised. What Amanda couldn’t see was that he had crossed his fingers behind his back, prompting that he was going to rebel against his mother and proceed with his own plans.

The brothers each opened a can of Guinness and plumbed down on the sofa. Walter let out a frustrated groan from deep within his chest, while Lucas was leaning his head back, squinting his eyes closed.

“I don’t believe her,” Melanie said out of the blue. The brothers turned their heads synchronically towards her. She was pacing the room. One hand beneath her chin, her face in deep concentration. She had pulled her hair into a ponytail which was swishing side to side behind her head.

“Mel, you’re going to wear out the carpet if you don’t stop,” Lucas said and took a large swig of his beer.

“There was something odd happening in that house,” she said. Walter took out his notebook and opened it to a fresh page.

“What did you see in the kitchen?” he asked and scribbled down everything she recollected.

“And did you notice that there weren’t any lights on?” Melanie asked.

“The entire house seemed to have been abandoned for quite some time,” Lucas grumbled, he shook the beer can and sucked out the remaining drops of beer.

“She is hiding something,” Melanie went back to pacing, “We have to go back tomorrow. We have to find out what she is up to. What she is hiding.”

The brothers nodded in agreement.

Melanie had woken up bright and early. She was making coffee in to-go mugs when Lucas emerged from his bedroom. He yawned, but after a few sips of the strong black coffee, he was wide awake. Donning an army green T-shirt and khaki shorts. Melanie helped him put the sling on, giggling a little, by hearing Lucas’ protests.

Walter walked out of his room bleary-eyed and in the same clothing as he wore the day before, a dark grey t-shirt and black jeans. He rubbed his eyes, grumbling a thank you for the coffee.

“Walter, have you been up all night?” Melanie asked, concerned as they walked towards their rented car.

“Yes, time is ticking and we need to find the lost brother.”

They arrived at the house, but no one answered the door. A ticking sound came from inside. Alerting the brothers. They each pulled a gun out of the holsters at their hips, which had been hidden by their shirt.

“Mel, get back in the car,” Lucas commanded. He slipped his injured arm out of the sling and motioned for Walter to walk on the left side of the house, while he took the right.

“But Luc…” Melanie started.

“Get back in the car, Melanie! I’m not asking again!”

Melanie was shocked at the hard commanding voice her older brother was using on her. She let out an annoyed huff and stomped away like an angry toddler.

She reached the car but was about to tell her brother to fuck off when she was hit by a blast from an explosion. Her body was thrown to the side of the truck and landed on the pavement. Her mind was knocked unconscious by the flying rubble.

“Mel!” a voice called for her, but she just wanted to go back to sleep. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, everything hurt.

“Melanie, you have to wake up,” it was Walter’s voice. She slowly opened her eyes, watching the identical face of her other brother’s, his blue eyes full of concern. A bleeding gash on his forehead was dripping on the pavement next to her.

“Walter,” she groaned, “What… what happened? Where is Luc?”

#Henry Cavill #This man #I need a drink #Lost Boys #Series #Triplets #August Walker #Captain Syverson #Walter Marshall #My story #Fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic

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dokoni-mo · 4 years

Text

Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 3)

(A/N: hello all yet again! welcome back to my little series here on this little cite!! :) I am so glad that y’all have been enjoying my series thus far. I have had a blast writing it and seeing y’all’s reactions to it. As always, please feel free to ask to be on the taglist for this, or just ask questions about the series in general! I love talking with yall :))) links for the previous chapters have been provided below. This is where the series is really gonna start picking up, so stay tuned!!! also, do I see the smut chapter on the horizon? I believe I do...)

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Four: [x]

WARNINGS: slight angst, a bit of crying, mentions of death (nothing too serious), cursing, otherwise none!!

Key: (F/N) = first name, (L/N) = last name

Word Count: ~4600

Peace and tranquility were two old friends that had not visited in a long time. Yet, they finally came for one today.

After cleaning yourself off that morning and hastily getting yourself ready, you had made your way over to the site of our new workstation: Lord Vader’s personal hangar, primarily used for entering and exiting the Super Star Destroyer on his TIE.

The walk to your new station was everything but pleasant. Everyone had seemed to know exactly what you were up to. This is partially due to the fact that you were now the talk-of-the-town amongst your peers. Some new-face baby coming here and getting one of the highest positions imaginable so damn quickly? Unheard of. Getting picked out personally by the Dark Lord himself? Impossible. Unimaginable. How could someone like (L/N) manage to pull off the impossible?

This was also partially due to the direction you were headed. Anyone walking this direction was always eyed by those around them, if they didn’t happen to look exactly like some odd mouse droid. Lord Vader’s hangar was located dangerously close to his personal quarters. Everyone knew that it was the number one unwritten rule of working on this empirical vessel: Do NOT enter Lord Vader’s personal quarters under any circumstance. Unless you wanted to be dead within a matter of mere seconds, do NOT enter that room. Everyone had heard the stories of those who had tried. A stormtrooper who came out with his neck snapped, a woman who was impaled with his lightsaber, each one more terrifying than the last. So, as your polished, black boots clacked right in that direction, it was only natural that you got some stares and silent prayers for your safety.

You thanked them silently and unconsciously, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

Following the directions that the old officer gave you, you eventually made your ways over to the new doors of the new hangar. The doors were almost exactly like him. Tall, dark, cold, unforgiving, to name a few characteristics. As you stood before them, you felt an odd feeling of nervousness in the bottom of your diaphragm, your fingers trembling all so slightly.

If I ever piss him off, you thought to yourself, there is no one around to hear me scream.

But who would care?

Who would dare challenge the Dark Lord himself?

No one. No one at all. So, don’t screw this up, (F/N).

Without turning your head, you let your eyes fall to the keypad adjacent to the door, it's buttons emanating a soft glow. Reaching out a hand, you punched in the digits that the old man gave you to allow you access into the hangar. You were surprised that the code actually worked, despite you knowing that it would. In the back of your head, you had still thought that maybe that old officer was somehow toying with you. That door opening was confirmation that this was no sick joke.

Stepping into that hangar almost felt like stepping right into the jaws of some beast. The hangar looked almost exactly like your last one, only smaller. However, you instantly noticed that it was much quieter than the one you had started with. Much emptier, too. The only thing within the whole hangar was one workbench full of tools, a few crates of unknown contents, one mechanic who’s heartbeat was thumping a mile a minute, and one destroyed TIE Advanced x1.

Despite the atmosphere of unease, you smiled brightly at your surroundings.

It was so quiet. Tranquil, even.

You were so happy to finally be able to work in peace.

As your first action as Darth Vader’s personal mechanic, you quickly ripped off your uniform jacket and threw it on the ground, giving it a kick and a stomp. You hated that thing. And, Lord Vader never seemed to mind you breaking your dress code. So, you decided that your new uniform was your pants, boots, goggles, and tank top.

Eat shit, Empire.

Your second action was to immediately get to work.

~~~

The silence was much more deafening than you had originally thought.

Yes, it was nice not having to listen to the annoying chatter of the other workers in your prior hangar, but this was something else. The silence had let you slip into your own thoughts far too often, much the opposite to your liking. Thinking let your mind wander, and you had a tendency to think about impossible scenarios. Going back home, seeing your family again, finding a new job, to name a few.

The diagnostic had returned nothing of great importance, thank the stars. Just some alerts of wires being fried. Nothing that you couldn’t handle.

Right now, sweat was leaving a heavy sheen on your forehead, and your arms and legs were screaming for some sort of rest. You were currently trying to make some progress to the destroyed wing of the craft, a way to take a break from trying to turn the damn computer back online. And, this wing was giving you no sort of break. Of course it wouldn’t, (F/N). Nothing is ever easy anymore.

You currently had the biggest wrench you had on your workbench wrapped tightly in your grasp, to the point where it made your knuckles white and your palms burn. Your nose and eyes were scrunched, your teeth bore for all to see as you tensed your shoulders and pulled the tool towards you with all your might. You needed this bolt off for you to gain access to the ligaments of the wing that held it onto the TIE. You had tried everything else to get it off (burning it off, freezing it off, and even praying to your maker while giving the ship a swift kick in the ass), but nothing had seemed to work. You were only left with one last tactic: hoping your brute strength was enough to pry off the stubborn piece of shit.

Tears had started to brim in your eyes from the stress of your pulling. Your arms were so tired, and your legs were equally as such. Relaxing your muscles suddenly, you loosened your grip on the wrench, finally allowing yourself to exhale. Panting in silence for a moment, you turned your hands over to inspect them. They were much redder than normal, and the joints in your fingers ached like hell.

Looking down at your hands in silence, you were overcome with an emotion you had no way of describing.

Why were you here? Why did you even accept this job in the first place? Things were so much simpler when the Empire hadn’t come to your home planet, when it was just you, mom, and dad. You could have run. You could have gone with them off-world, but you didn’t believe them. You didn’t believe that the Empire would totally destroy your home. You didn’t believe that the Empire would force you into working for them just so that you could have some sense of protection. You didn’t believe that if you had stepped into their hands, you would never see your home or parents again.

Liars, you had thought back then, mom and dad do not see the truth.

Oh, how wrong you were.

If you could turn back time right then and right there, you would punch your past self in the face for being so fucking blind.

You didn’t notice that you were crying until you felt something warm and wet drop against your palm. Focusing your attention back, you stared deeply at the small puddle on your palm. Letting your mind brew a few moments longer, you frowned deeply as you closed your eyes and bunched your hands into fists. You leaned against the surface of the TIE Advanced, covering your face from the outside world.

Maker above, please, grant me the power to turn back the hands of time. Even for just one day.

Your legs finally giving out, you slowly slid down the surface of the ship until you were crouched on the cold, shiny floor, your tears now only a slight trickle. Forgetting exactly where you were, why you were there, and who exactly was your boss, you sniffled as you allowed yourself to lay on the ground, your legs and arms sighing in relief.

Staring up at the ceiling above you, you had noticed that there was a small window garnishing the roof of the hangar. This had caused you to let out a small chuckle past your tears. Something added to this damn ship purely for aesthetics? You must be going crazy.

Looking at the window, you let your eyes be transfixed on the view that the tiny opening provided. The stars were just barely visible from your point of view, like miniscule flecks of dust. A fleeting moment of relaxation overtaking you, a thought quickly made its way across your brain.

I need to get back to work.

You made no attempt to do so as you felt your eyelids become heavier and heavier.

~~~

He had only the faintest idea of exactly how long you had been there when he found you.

He had sensed your force energy waver from halfway across the Super Star Destroyer. The sheer amount of anger and frustration emanating off of your person was surprising. He had thought that you were the more calm and collected type, but reminded himself that human emotions were common. It surprised him that someone as small as you could feel such overwhelming amounts of anger. Being a sith lord, he would say that he was almost impressed. However, something inside of him kept him from feeling as such.

Instead, he felt… saddened. He didn’t exactly know why.

As fast as your immense feeling of anger came, it went. Sensing this new feeling within you, his attention was piqued.

A deep sadness. A melancholy, even.

For a moment, he couldn’t tell where exactly he had felt such a thing before. He did not have to delve far into this memory before realizing exactly where he has sensed such strong feelings prior to now.

He had felt them from within himself.

As he was currently in a meeting with some high-ranking officers and a handful of moffs, he knew he couldn’t step away so suddenly and without warning without them pestering him. He did not like to be pestered. Yet, something deep down inside him told him to go to you, to check on you and make sure that you were…

No. He had more important matters to attend to, he told himself.

Continuing on with his meeting, he couldn’t help but feel an odd sensation bubble within the core of his being. It pulled him away from the meeting, and beckoned him to leave these people and direct his attention towards you.

There are more important matters to attend to, he had tried to tell himself, but his thoughts did nothing to silence the voice telling him to leave.

After a long moment or two, he felt what was left of his natural body stiffen beneath the leather and robotics that encased him. Honing in on your force energy once again, he felt a cold feeling run through the web of nerves that remained within his body. Your presence had faded suddenly, a shadow of itself only a few moments prior. He couldn’t tell what you were feeling.

Surprising him, he felt his mind race with various scenarios of what could have happened. Was something finally fixed on the ship? Had you inadvertently broken something further? Were you taking a break?

He clenched his fist when the most worrisome thought of all popped inside of his head, making all the others fade away into nothing.

Were you dead?

He tried in vain to calm himself of the thought and put it to rest. He had seen you only the night before, and you appeared to be in perfect health. You had even smiled. This did little to calm him, however. As he would try to focus on what these idiotic officers had to say, his mind would always slip back to you.

A great sense of frustration started to smother him whole, causing him to clench his fist even tighter. He was frustrated that he could not pay attention to the meeting. He was frustrated that he had to attend the meeting in the first place. He was frustrated that these officers and moffs were so damn stupid. However, most of all…

He was frustrated that he couldn’t go to you.

He was frustrated that you had such a profound effect on him. You were just his mechanic. Why did he care whether you were dead or alive? You could be replaced.

...couldn’t you?

The second that words were spoken to signal the end of the meeting, he had turned and exited the meeting room, the wind of his fast exit making his cape flutter behind him. He sensed that the other men in the room were confused and almost startled by his sudden departure, but he didn’t care. He had to go to his hangar immediately.

Marching past all the other workers of the Super Star Destroyer in his path, he ignored all who tried to grab his attention. Idiots. Fools. Worms.

Couldn’t they see that he was in a hurry?

But why was he?

Why was he so in need to see you? To hear your voice and see your eyes? To hear a report on your progress?

Because (F/N) is my mechanic. Nothing more, he told himself. Why did it feel like a lie?

Finally at the doors of his hangar, he punched in his code to the keypad and stepped through the doors. The space was eerily quiet, and this unnerved him. Were his suspicions true?

Hastily making his way over to your workstation, he couldn't help but notice the palm of your small hand capsized on the floor in front of his TIE, the rest of your body obscured by a crate in the way.

No.

This cannot be.

Quickening his pace, he moved his hand to extend in front of him. Reaching out with the force, he threw the crate covering the sight of you across the hangar, it’s landing making an unholy crashing noise.

As he drew closer to you, he noticed how you were laid on the floor, one hand stretched to an unknown receiver and the other pulled close to your chest. You were resting on your side, and, unsurprisingly, your jacket was long since discarded. He did not blame you for hating that infernal article of clothing.

Finally within conversation distance to you, he stopped his quick pace and pointed the face of his mask to look at the tiny frame at his feet. Watching you carefully, he noticed that your chest and shoulders were slowly rising and falling in a rhythmic beat.

You were alive.

He pretended not to notice the feeling of relief wash over him.

~~~

When you finally awoke again, you were immediately hit with three startling realizations.

Number one: you had no idea how much time had elapsed since you were looking at that window. Squinting your eyes to open slightly, you tried to process the time based on the amount of light within the hangar. This was hard to do, however, since you were still very groggy from your sleep. A for effort anyway.

Number two: you were no longer on the floor where you had originally laid down. You could tell this from the feeling of one of your legs dangling off the edge of the object you were laying on, as well as the same feeling in one of your hands. This was confirmed as you pulled in your hands close to your chest, turned your torso, and pushed yourself up with wobbling arms. Your mind was still very fuzzy, but you were just able to make out the foregin surface beneath you. From the patterns on its surface, you deduced that it was one of the crates that littered your workstation.

Number three, and probably the most frightening of all: you were not alone. After a moment of your grogginess slipping off of your body, your ears finally turned back into your consciousness. They told you of the noise they heard, and the fear you should be feeling as a result of it.

Heavy, mechanical, rhythmic, breath.

His breath.

Taking a quick glance up from the surface of the crate, you beckoned your eyes to tell you whether or not your two ears were the biggest liars in the galaxy or not. Of course, they weren’t. Before you was that silhouette you knew all too well.

Shit.

Quickly rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you scrambled to try and stand up and assume your attention stance. You found this difficult, however, since your muscles were still aching from before.

Oh maker, you thought, is this how I die?

“My Lord! Lord Vader!” you were able to say, your eyes finally able to focus on your boss. After a moment of processing the sight before you, you thought that maybe you were dreaming, or somehow hit your head on the way down to the ground. Lord Vader was about ten feet away from you, his buff arms folded across his large, taunt chest, and his gaze locked firmy on your frame. All of these were not surprising. What was surprising, is that he was doing all of this from a seated position upon another crate, only this one had obvious scratches and skid marks on it. Was it always like that?

You realized that this was the first time that you had ever seen Darth Vader sit down. He was always standing, always looming above everyone you ever saw. But, even as he was in a more neutral and open position, he was still very intimidating. If anything, he looked even bigger and more dominating than when he was standing up.

You hoped he didn’t notice how your cheeks turned pink as you beheld him before you.

“My Lord, my apologies you have to see me this way, I-I have no idea...” you began to speak. If he was going to kill you, he was sure taking his sweet time with it. He had every reason to do so. You were resting on the job. Not even pretending to do your job, on the first damn day no less! This would have been met with the harshest punishments by the officers. And, if the stories had taught you anything, Lord Vader’s would be even harsher.

Trying to formulate the rest of your apology, you were also trying again and again to stand at attention. Your arms and legs, however, had different plans. Their weakness kept you firmly in your sitting position upon the crate. This only made the internal panic for your life stronger. Lord Vader detested weakness. Saw it as only a burden, and would be eradicated swiftly and unkindly.

After a few attempts to stand and choke out an apology, Lord Vader rose from his sitting position, letting his strong arms fall to his sides. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. He was coming to kill you. You knew it. You would be dead here in a matter of minutes, sliced in two by his red saber.

Adrenaline kicking in, you hoped that the hormone would give you the strength to stand once again. Nothing.

Vader stepped slowly and decisively closer to you, his gaze still locked upon you. Despite the rapid beating of your heart and your brain telling you to run as fast as you could, you stayed put. Lowering your head, you stared down at your feet and sighed quietly, taking a long, slow blink. If he was going to kill you, you hoped that he would give you at least the mercy of making it as quick as possible.

Once he stopped about three feet away from you, you closed your eyes and braced yourself to hear the sound of his saber igniting in his grasp.

This never came.

Instead, you felt something heavy, strong, and leathery make contact with your left shoulder. It was enormous, and dwarfed the joint in almost every way. Picking up your head, you darted your eyes over to the source of the pressure. Following your gaze from the touch, you followed it to its source.

Lord Vader.

His hand was on your shoulder.

Maybe you really had hit your head on your way to the ground.

“(F/N),” he said, his mask pointed squarely on your face, “I have been waiting some time for you to awaken. Do you wish to tell me why I have found you in such a state?”

Oh yeah. You definitely hit your head on the way down.

Licking your bottom lip and swallowing, you paused a moment before responding. You decided to tell the truth. If he wanted me dead, you figured, he would’ve killed me already. He doesn’t seem the type to draw these things out.

“I… I was trying to loosen one of the bolts on your TIE, my Lord. I tried many methods to remove it, but none of them worked. So, I thought that I would try and just try and pry it off myself. I guess I tried too hard because I just felt so weak all the sudden… Please pardon me, my Lord, I was not trying to avoid my work.” You said, letting your gaze fall only briefly as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You felt your cheeks burn brighter the longer he had his hand on your shoulder.

“I see.” he said flatly, taking his hand off of you and placing it on his belt alongside his other hand. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since you felt something like it, but you quickly missed the feeling of his hand upon your body.

“I do hope that you have enough strength to continue on with the day, Miss (F/N). I can see that you are making good progress, and it would be a shame if you did not continue as such.” he continued, tilting his head to the side.

“Y-yes, My Lord. I can continue on with the day.”

“Good.” he responded. Lifting up his hand once again, he unfurled it from it's gripping position, pointing his palm towards the ceiling as he extended it within your gripping distance. It took you a second of staring at his hand dumbly for you to register what exactly he was doing. “Do not allow me to keep you occupied then, Miss (F/N).”

Flicking your gaze from his hand to his mask over and over again, you hesitantly lifted your hand, your fingers loose. Gently placing your hand within his, another shot of blush made its way onto your cheeks. Your hand was noticeably smaller than his, your palm and fingers being dwarfed by his own. You could barely wrap your hand around his.

Once your grip was secure, Lord Vader wrapped his robotic digits around your grasp. Cue another shot of blush on your cheeks. His grip was strong, secure, stable.

Deep down within you, you wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on other parts of your body.

Helping you bring you to your feet, Lord Vader flexed his arm to pull you up off the crate. The strong motion definitely helping you to your feet, your legs only wobbling in protest for a moment before allowing you to stand again.

You were now awfully close to Lord Vader.

Only about a foot away, your hand still wrapped tightly in his.

Realizing that you had forgotten to pull your hand back, you blushed for what seemed like the fifteen-millionth time that day and slowly pulled it back. You kept your neck craned as you looked up at him, your height different now more apparent than ever. Looking right into the eyes of his black, menacing mask you mumbled out a quiet thank you, my Lord.

The two of you stood dead-locked in a galaxy-wide championship of a staring contest for a long while. The only sound that interrupted the silence between two of you were his breath and the distant rumbling of the engines of the Super Star Destroyer. Many thoughts darted through your head as you looked right at him, trying to see if you could see his eyes beneath the mask’s.

What exactly is his game here? Why didn’t he just kill me? Am I that important? Of course not, I’m just a mechanic, he could always get another one. Then why? I wish I could see his face. Don’t think that, (F/N), that would never happen. I want him to touch me again. STOP THAT, (F/N). I don’t want him to leave. I want…

Stop humoring yourself, (F/N). He sees you as his mechanic. Nothing more.

It was him that broke the silence again. A simple sentence, nothing more.

“Do not dawdle any longer, (F/N). I will return again for another report at a later time.”

You gave him a nod and a courteous yes, my Lord before he turned to leave, walking off yet again.

Sighing to yourself, you returned to your earlier position, wrapping your hand around the wrench that was still wrapped around the bolt from before. You had hoped that the bolt would have just magically loosened itself from the time you had fallen asleep to now.

With a brief complaint from your arms, you tried pulling the wrench towards you once again. Big shocker, it still didn't move. Cursing to yourself silently, you tried again. Want an even bigger shocker? It still didn’t move. Surprising, isn’t it?

Taking a step back to try and think of some other way that you could pry off this bolt, you shook out the pain from your hands, your brow furrowing.

You thought that you must be hallucinating as you stared at the wrench. Without you even touching it, the wrench had started to turn towards you, taking the stubborn bolt along with it. Your confusion only grew as it repeated this motion a few more times until, suddenly, and without warning, the bolt came undone, crashing on the floor with the wrench. The sudden noise made you flinch and jump back, your mouth opening in a silent yelp.

You were beyond bewildered. How the hell did that happen? Are you high? Hallucinating?

Quickly putting two and two together, you turned your body to the door, your lips parting. Sure enough, there he was, his hand extended it the direction of the wrench and bolt, fingers relaxed. You couldn’t believe it. You had heard the stories of this power before, his power, but you didn’t believe them. You thought it had just been people exaggerating the level of his strength. But, now, you knew that it sure as fuck wasn’t.

You should have been scared. You should have cowered in fear, knowing that all the legends you heard were true. Yet, you didn’t. You couldn’t, even.

All you could do was smile. Smile like a dopey, bumbling idiot and laugh in disbelief.

You had no idea what came over you.

Calling out a hasty thank you, my Lord, you hoped that you didn’t look as girlish and giddy to him as you felt. You hadn’t smiled like this in such a long time.

Offering nothing more than a long look and a nod, Lord Vader left the hangar, leaving you alone there once more.

You ate an extra ration that night, the ghost of Vader’s touch still lingering in your nerves.

How you craved for him to do it again.

TAGS: @spaghetti-666 , @soullesstaco , @arsonistvoyager , @robin-obsessed , @glitter-rian , @captainrexstan , @easterncryptid , @deviatedwinter , @roseangel013bf , @danicalifxrnia

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #star wars fanfic

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bwemph · 4 years

Text

Amnesia

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 4,141

Summary: You and the Avengers are on a mission when you take a hit to the head, leading to amnesia. Steve and the rest of the Avengers struggle to cope as they realize it may not be temporary.

Warnings: Little angst, mild violence.

A/N: This is a fic from my old blog Purpleocity. All future fics will be posted here at bwemph :)

You let out a soft groan as you stretched and rolled over, facing Steve who lay on the bed next to you. He watched you with a loving gaze and smiled as you sleepily stared at him.

“Hello,” you said, placing a hand on his chest. He softly hummed in response and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How long was I asleep?” you asked.

He glanced over at the clock. It was almost half past two in the afternoon. “About a half hour. Do you feel better?”

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, scooting closer to him. “Yeah. I’m sleepy now.” You hid your face in his chest, smiling at the way it shook as he chuckled. He touched your cheek and you looked up at him again.

His eyes held such a joy you thought he might explode. “What? Are you okay?” you asked.

He laughed softly and pulled her into his embrace. “Yeah, I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

You hummed. “How much might that be?"

He cocked an eyebrow and looked as if he were going to make a little sarcastic comment, but the look melted and a gentle smile graced his features. "More than you can imagine.”

You bit your lip as you smiled. “I love you too.”

Steve’s chaste kiss found your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut as you returned it. You felt butterflies in your stomach and you rested a hand on his cheek before he pulled away.

“Hungry?” he asked.

You nodded. “Starved.”

“Lunch?”

“Sounds great.”

-----

You ducked as a punch was thrown at your head. You stood straight and grabbed your attacker’s arm, twisting it and then elbowing him in the side. You kicked his feet out from under him and then zapped him with your lightning, leaving him unconscious. Another HYDRA agent ran at you, brandishing a weapon. You swept his feet out from under him and electrocuted him.

Tony flew over and shot a repulsor beam at a cluster of HYDRA agents. Not long after, Natasha sprung from the shadows and began fighting a group of three people.

You glanced to the right and saw Steve being driven backward. He punched the agent in the stomach, then hit him across the face with his shield. The agent fell to the ground and Steve looked at you with a smile. It disappeared, sending a silent message.

You whipped around and shocked two agents that attempted to sneak up on you. You smirked as they tensed up and fell to the ground. Steve nodded to you, his smile reappearing.

“Captain Rogers!” Thor called from nearby to catch his attention. He shot a beam of his lighting and Steve deflected it, mowing down another group of agents.

More people flooded from the base they were raiding. Arrows fell from the sky, and you guessed Clint was nearby firing them off.

“Bruce, I think this is a code green,” Natasha said over comms.

“Are you sure?” his response came. She glanced at Steve, who nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure,” she replied. Bruce didn’t respond, but they heard a nearby roar from “the other guy”.

You were pulled behind Steve’s shield as a spray of bullets came from the large group of HYDRA agents. The Avengers were far outnumbered and outgunned, but you had your hopes high.

You gave a small smile to Steve, who winked in reply. You conjured a ball of lightning to your palm, sending it into the crowd of adversaries. Several cries were heard as they fell, but it only weakened their numbers by a fraction. The Hulk showed up quickly, jumping into the chaos.

“Avengers, asse—” Steve was cut off as he was knocked off his feet from a blast of an agent’s weapon.

You startled and reached in his direction. He lay there a little disoriented. “You good?” you asked.

He gathered his wits and pushed himself back to his feet. He nodded.

“Good,” you laughed, “I thought I’d have to call Life Alert.”

He glared and raised an eyebrow at you, but your teasing ended there. The Avengers collected and ran at the HYDRA agents in front of them. You shot bolts of lightning this way and that, sending agents tumbling and unconscious. Steve’s shield bounced off several agents, and back to him. You jumped up and kicked a HYDRA goon in the chest, propelling yourself from him and landing back on your feet before you knocked out another with a bolt of electricity.

“Y/N,” Steve called, hurling his shield, which hit three people before it came to you. You caught it and threw it back to Steve with a wink.

“I got you, babe,” you flirted. He would have made a little comeback but he was startled as you zapped a soldier behind him.

You occupied yourself with three agents who started ganging up on you. You were backed into a small half circle of trees. One pulled a gun on you. You lunged for his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. He let out a pained cry and elbowed you in the stomach. You held your abdomen and stumbled backwards.

You regained yourself and then quickly butterfly kicked him, sending him to the ground. The other two ran at you, but you rolled on your shoulder, shocking the one you just took down, then standing to face the other two. You dropped into a fighting stance and awaited the attackers’ next move. One ran at you and you thrust your hand to his chest, summoning all the electricity you could in a split second. He fell limp. Your other attacker made a grab for your neck, but you ducked and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, but didn’t fall. He made to punch you, but you drove your knee into his stomach while he was open. You elbowed him in the side of the head, but he caught your arm, twisting it and making you let out a sharp cry.

While you were occupied, your first foe pushed himself from the ground, dusting the dirt from his uniform. He saw the scuffle between you and your current adversary, and joined in. He threw a punch, but you pulled your arm free and blocked it, then ducked as the other tried to hit you as well. You dropped to the ground and swept the feet out from under one, while the other tried throwing another punch. You stood straight again and made to elbow the agent in the stomach, but he blocked. You punched; he blocked. You kicked; he blocked. You threw another punch, and then you found yourself being shoved backward from a kick. You yelped before you hit the tree, then suddenly you were on the ground.

You were seeing stars and losing your vision and hearing quickly. Your heart rate sped up. Both agents approached, but the last thing you remembered was two gunshots and their bodies falling limp to the ground.

Steve heard you cry out and he kicked a HYDRA agent, sending him backward. He looked in the direction of your voice and saw you hit a tree and fall to the ground, unmoving. His eyes widened.

“Natasha!” he called out. She followed his gaze, and as if she didn’t even think about it, shot down the two agents advancing on you. He nodded to Natasha in thanks.

Steve looked around the area, seeing this was a hopeless effort. “We need to retreat!” he said into comms.

“Copy that,” Tony replied. Steve put his shield on his back and ran to you, picking you up bridal style and holding you close to his chest. He was relieved when he saw you were merely unconscious.

“That’s right. You’re good,” he murmured more to himself than you. He jogged back toward the quinjet, hoping whatever injuries you’d sustained weren’t too severe.

-----

The flight back to New York seemed endless. Steve was relieved when they landed. They got you to the doctors as quick as they could.

He paced outside your room with his hands folded behind his back. He walked to the window and stared out at the setting sun.

“Captain Rogers,” Dr. Cho said, closing your door behind herself. Steve turned, a hopeful gleam in his eye. He took note of Dr. Cho’s calm nature, which must have meant you weren’t too severely injured.

“Is she alright?” he blurted. He pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair.

Dr. Cho held back a smile. “I ran a few tests on her. It looks like she’s received some head trauma. Pretty serious head trauma at that. It shouldn’t have too much of an effect. I’d imagine she’ll only be unconscious for a while.”

“Do you have an estimation of how long?” he asked.

Dr. Cho thought for a moment, placing a hand on her hip. “I’m not entirely sure. Anywhere between two to seven hours. Maybe even longer.”

Steve felt himself tense and sighed. “Can I see her?”

“Absolutely. Go on in.”

Steve nodded in thanks and opened your door. He saw you lying in your bed as if you were asleep. You looked very peaceful despite the little bruises and cuts that were scattered across your face. He approached the side of your bed and gazed at you with worry gripping him. He caressed your cheek and softly pressed a kiss to your forehead. He pulled up the stool from your desk and sat, folding his hands and resting his chin on them. He waited patiently.

Minutes passed slowly as he waited. He only left once or twice to get something to eat or stretch his legs after a couple hours, but he stayed by your side otherwise. He picked up a book from one of the shelves and started reading. He only got a couple chapters in before you stirred. He set the book aside and his eyes brightened as you crinkled your nose and slowly opened your eyes.

“Hey, Angelface.”

Confusion twisted your features for a moment. You were silent. “Um…” you slowly sat up. Your hand flew to your head. “Ow…”

“Yeah, you took quite a hit back there.”

You looked him over, your eyes searching him as if you were looking for something. “What happened?”

“We were raiding a HYDRA base and you hit your head. I’m so glad you’re alright.” Steve leaned over and hugged you. You tensed and politely nudged him back. You had a look of concern molding your features.

“Are you okay?” he asked, gently touching the side of your face.

You hesitated. “Um…do I know you?”

Steve knit hit eyebrows and withdrew his hand. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Steve.” You studied him for a long time. You scanned his features intently. When you didn’t reply, his heart dropped.

“Wait a second…” you mused. Steve felt a flicker of hope. “You’re Steve Rogers…Captain America!”

That wasn’t exactly the answer he was looking for.

“Wait…but you’re dead.” You looked just as confused as he did moments ago.

“I…I was, I guess.”

“Then how—”

“It’s a long story,” Steve cut in. “Hey, you’ve been out for a while, what do you say I go get you something to eat?”

“That’d be great. Thank you.”

Steve stood and left your room, quietly closing the door behind himself. He sighed and let his gaze drop to the floor.

“Cap, is Y/N okay?” Tony asked as he and Natasha approached. Steve hesitated. “She’s…fine.”

“But?” Natasha cued.

Steve closed his eyes again and looked out the window, turning to face it. “She doesn’t know who I am.”

Natasha tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” He turned back to Nat and Tony, “she has amnesia. She doesn’t remember me. She thinks…she thinks I’m still in the ice. I don’t even think she knows she’s an Avenger anymore.”

The words hurt to say. He hoped to God it was temporary.

“Let me talk to her,” Tony suggested. Steve shrugged, not stopping Tony as he entered your room.

-----

Questions stirred in your brain. You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing in this room, though it was vaguely familiar. You wondered if it was some sort of recovery room. You furrowed your brow as you thought about the fact that Captain America was awaiting your awakening. Someone knocked on the door, pulling you from your train of thought before it could go anywhere.

“Come in,” you called. When the door opened, you saw a familiar face. Then it came back to you. “Tony? What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you and approached the side of your bed. “I live here.”

“This is your apartment?”

He snickered. “You could call it that. It’s Stark Tower. I built it. This is your room.”

You squinted. “Really?”

Tony nodded. “Yep.” He sighed. “You have amnesia, Sparky.”

Sparky. You remembered that nickname. Where from though? You didn’t realize how quiet you were or how long you thought.

“Sparky?” Tony tried. “Y/N…”

You snapped out of your trance and looked to Tony. “I have a feeling we’re close…right?”

Tony nodded. “Somewhat. Not as close as you and Cap, but…”

“Cap?”

“Steve.”

You nodded. “How do I know him?” you asked.

You could tell Tony tried not to snicker. “You two are…you’re kinda…you guys…” He shut up and thought for a second. “He’s your boyfriend.”

You squinted at Tony. “I don’t have a…” you trailed off. You shared an awkward glance with him. “I’m sorry. I…I think I need to sleep. Everything’s a little fuzzy right now.”

“Yeah. Uh, you do that.” He took a few steps toward the door. “Let JARVIS know if you need anything.”

“Jarvis?”

Tony glanced upward. “The AI. You’ll meet him soon enough.”

You nodded as he walked away.

You watched him close the door. You then glanced around ‘your room’. You bit your lip and took in each of your surroundings. You flipped the blankets back and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You stood and paced to the window, glancing out over the city. The sun was setting slowly, casting an orange light along with shadows from the skyscrapers. You then crossed to your desk. You saw a picture of yourself and your mother smiling. You had vague memories of that day. You’d gone to a festival and gotten copious amounts of cotton candy and gotten sick. You pushed the thought aside and went on, running your fingertips over the top of the desk. You looked in the mirror and glanced at your reflection. You had a fairly decent wound on the side of your head and your eye was generously blackened, with several other scrapes and cuts about your features. You sighed and glanced at another picture. It was you and Captain Rogers. He stood with his arm around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You were smiling brightly in the picture, and a soft blush covered your cheeks. You stared at the picture for a long time.

You felt heat rise in your face the longer you stared. You wished you remembered that. It seemed like it must have been a wonderful thing, being in love with Captain America himself. You picked up the picture, looking at it for a few moments longer before you laid it on the desk face down. You went back to bed, falling asleep soon after pulling the blankets up over your shoulder and laying down your head.

-----

"You know, brooding isn’t gonna help you much.“ Natasha found Steve in the lounge staring at the wall.

"I’m not brooding–”

“You’re brooding.”

“…just thinking,” he finished with a small glare. She sat on the couch next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Whatcha thinking about?” she asked in a softer tone.

He rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Y/N.”

Natasha have him a sympathetic look. “I understand this is rough. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Probably not.” He stared at the wall again. “Thanks though.”

Natasha nodded in response and patted his shoulder. She stood and crossed to the doorway, stopping for a moment. She turned back to him. “Just let me know, 'kay?”

Steve nodded. He looked up with his puppy dog stare as she walked away.

-----

The days passed as they normally would for Steve, save for the lack of you. He was surprised with himself and how often he wanted to go see you just for a cuddle or a quick kiss and even to see how you were doing. He had also realized how often he would most nights end up falling asleep with you before you lost your memories. His drive to go to you and just snuggle your memories back was surprisingly intense. He fought it for your comfort’s sake.

Every couple days, you would get a random memory. They were mostly scattered pieces and random things like a picture you drew for a friend or your sixth birthday. There was a point when you remembered going to see your family. You couldn’t remember why you were doing that, but you were told it was because you’d been working with the Avengers and hadn’t seen your family in a while. You hadn’t had many memories of working with the Avengers at all. Anything having to do with your relationships with them was very fuzzy and distorted.

Steve would spend what time he could with you when you were in a central area and he wasn’t busy. You both got along pretty well, but it was hard having to start from square one again with you.

-----

“So are we going to address…you know,” you said, breaking the silence between the two of you as you looked through some old pictures of yourself on the iPad Tony had given you, “or are we going to act like it didn’t happen?” Steve was caught somewhat off guard by that, but he closed his book and looked up at you. “Well I figured since you don’t remember…I-I thought we’d leave it.”

“Oh come on, you act like it doesn’t hurt. It’s obvious that it bothers you.” You laughed softly and set aside your device. You tucked your legs under yourself as you locked your gaze with Steve’s. He didn’t respond to what you said. He simply cast his eyes downward, rolling his lips. You tilted your head at him. “I can tell it bothers you because you do that little thing where you run your fingers through your hair and sigh and you rest your hand on the back of your neck,” you prompted.

He perked up and looked to you. “Wait what?”

“I said–”

“No, no, you remembered something.”

“Oh.” You shrugged and bit your lip. “I kinda knew that I guess. Your mannerisms are very familiar. It’s partly why I sort of make an effort to be around you. You’re the most familiar thing I have right now.”

Steve found himself involuntary smiling. “Really?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. That and your voice. I like listening to you speak.”

He laughed quietly and moved from the chair diagonal to you to the couch cushion next to you, making sure he was at a friendly distance as not to cross any boundaries.

“That’s not my point though,” you reminded. Steve nodded. He exhaled and looked around the room.

“Well what is there to talk about?”

You looked at the floor and thought. “What happened? The day I lost my memories…I wanna know everything in as much detail as you can give.”

“Oh, well, um…”

He explained the mission and the situation. Your adorable flirting and the quips you threw at each other were some things he remembered with surprisingly vivid detail. You were surprised. He explained the way that you had been cornered and thrown back before you hit your head. He tried to keep the plane ride brief too.

“Honestly, I was worried you wouldn’t wake up. I–” he trailed off.

You waited in suspense. “You…?”

Steve shook his head and waved the matter off. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad you’re alright.” He sat back on the couch and folded his hands in his lap. You rested your hand ever so softly on his shoulder, making him look up and meet your eyes. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be.”

“No, I see how much this hurts you. I honestly wish I remembered what we had. It must have been great. I just…I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “Nothing you can do to fix it. It’s alright.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek. You blushed and stood, giving him a little smile before exiting the room. He watched you leave, a feeling of sadness hitting him. There you were, leaving again and you still weren’t his. He ran his fingers through his hair and then rested his hand on the back of his neck. He laughed softly when he noticed he actually does that.

-----

You ran a hand across the shelf in your closet with a sigh. Every now and then you would find something that would make you ask yourself if you actually wore that.

You left your closet and looked at the books on your bookshelf. You ran your fingertips over them and looked out at the cars driving by below. The sun was starting to sink behind the New York skyline. You sat on your bed and started staring into space.

You felt a sense of regret within, not for anything you had done, but for what you couldn’t do. You wanted to remember. You felt as if you had lost a piece of yourself with your memories. You had an amazing life. Hell, you were a superhero! That was your dream as a child with parents working with SHIELD. Not to mention what you must have had with Steve. He seemed like a great guy. You sighed again and lay back.

To your dismay, you found that your headboard was closer than you thought, and it collided with the back of your head. You let out a surprised yelp and you sat up quickly. Your hand flew to the back of your head. You felt your head ache, and stars spattered your vision. You swore under your breath and grit your teeth. That hurt a lot. Almost as much as when you hit it the first time, only there’s was less snow and you…wait a second.

Despite the throbbing headache you had now, you were smiling brightly and your heart jumped with joy. You stood and stumbled a couple steps, then hurried to Steve’s room.

When you got there, you didn’t even knock. you threw the door open and found Steve halfway to where you were. He froze mid step and wore a confused expression.

You smiled brightly. “Steve…” you breathed before running to him. You threw your arms around him and kissed him full on the lips with passion. You laughed and smiled into the kiss, placing your hands on either side of his neck. He reluctantly returned your kiss and rested his hands on your waist. You pulled back for a moment, laughing joyously.

“I remember!” you exclaimed. Steve’s eyes lit up, and he returned your ecstatic laughter. He picked you up and spun you around, and when you were back on your feet, his lips crashed into yours again.

You kissed and giggled and laughed and kissed some more. Steve would whisper “I love you” between each kiss, and each kiss grew more passionate.

You both ended up tangled together on the bed, all of your kisses and touches lost within a blur of joy and excitement.

You prolonged the kiss as much as you could, but eventually, you had to breathe. You hesitantly pulled away from each other. Steve rested his forehead on yours and wrapped his arms snug around your waist. He kissed your nose.

“I love you,” Steve murmured again as he buried his face in your shoulder, hugging you tightly.

“I love you too,” you replied equally as quiet. You still found yourself unable to stop smiling. You pushed yourself back a little so you could look into his eyes. You couldn’t quite tell what emotions were behind them, you just knew there were many. Your brow furrowed a little in confusion. “What?"

"I just love you so much,” he said, squeezing you.

“You said that already,” you teased.

He laughed. “I figured it was worth repeating. I missed having you.”

You smiled and ran your fingertips over his chest. “You’re the best,” you murmured sleepily.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Oh hush. Let me love you.” You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips again.

The pair of you shared many sleepy kisses and soft laughter as you dozed off.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #chris evans #the first avenger #the winter soldier #civil war #avengers #the avengers #endgame #infinity war #reader insert

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 4 years

Text

Heat Stroke Sith Obi Wan x Reader

Pairing: Sith obi wan x reader

Warnings: mild language, very mild violence, a hint of smut.

A.N. This is literal trash but wanted to post anyway😅 enjoy~

***************************************************

Oh this was hell...no actually I take that back, hell would be alot cooler than this godforsaken planet.

"Don't dawdle y/n, we have a mission to complete" your master scolded with a half glance behind him.

Sighing you looked up through hooded eyes and continued to drag you half bent body through the busy market place.

"I know master but it's sooo hot" you whined, feeling the burn of this planets 3 goddamn suns beating on your back.

"Don't be dramatic y/n" he said with a slight eye roll that you couldn't see but knew was there.

"Dramatic?!" You perked up annoyed "Master, you do remember I was born and raised on an ice planet dont you?"

"How could I not, you've only mentioned it a thousand times" he teased with a smirk.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" You quirked an irritated brow.

You watched as he smugly strode through the streets ahead of you.

"How are you not dying in those robes?" You caught up with him, sweat dripping down every inch of your body.

He shrugged, "This planet is hotter than those we've visited I admit, however it's a minor inconvenience at most. Perhaps it's because of how skilled I am with the force" he offered.

"What?! You cant regulate your body temperature through the force!"

"Wait.....can you?!?!?" You looked up at him in disbelief.

He shook his head with a laugh, "It seems we still have a long way to go with your training young one"

iT sEeMs wE sTiLl hAvE a lOnG wAy tO gO wItH yOuR tRaInIng you mocked in your mind. God how big was his ego-

"Oww" you felt a sharp slap on the back of your head through the force.

"It would also seem you need a lesson in respect" your master said sternly.

Whoops, gotta remember to keep those mind shields up..

You sheepishly apologized and decided to stay silent for awhile. Instead focusing on the many street vendors lining the streets.

After a while of walking Obi wan abruptly stopped,

"What is it?" You asked curiously standing up more alert now. You followed his line of vision and saw two men conversing quietly, one a green twilek and the other from an aquatic planet, a priorlik. Definitely not normal, priorliks avoided dessert planets like the galactic plague.

The men both stood up and you could faintly see them exchange a small parcel. They stepped away from each other leaving in opposite directions.

"I'll follow the priorlik, you go after the twilek, do not let him escape" he ordered and you quickly jumped into action.

You followed at a decent distance, not wanting to alert him until he was far enough from the main crowd. You weren't keen on causing a huge scene.

You wondered what information he had that your master was so interested in. You hoped it was worth you getting broiled like a casserole. you would literally die for a even a fleck of snow right now.

The twilek paused ahead and immediately you turned to a vendor, pretending to peruse the merchandise.

"Need any help miss?" You shook your head, "No, thank you, I think I have enough..." you paused looking down at the wares, "snakeskin underwear...." eww why would anyone ever want- Ah that's right-

You really had to work on not getting distracted.

Fuck, you couldn't see the green tails anymore. Speeding up the street you glanced down the surrounding alley ways.

Unfortunately he was facing you at the last one and took off running with a grunt.

Oh come one dont make me run, as if I wasnt hot enough already ugh...

You pushed through and began your pursuit. The criminal was quick for his size you had to admit. He seemed to know where he was going so you decided to jump onto the rooftops for a better view point.

You quickly surveyed the area and found a way to cut him off. Dashing to the side you jumped over several alleyways and gracefully flipped down onto the street in front of him.

He grinded to a halt, glaring at you, "Get out of my way"

"Hmmm I would, however I dont particularly feel like it sooo no". you unclipped the electro cuffs from your belt. "Let's do this the easy way please, I'm sick of being on this planet" you took a step closer and he withdrew two blasters from under his Cape.

Ugh fine we'll do it the hard way. With an eye roll you dodge the oncoming blasts easily.

"Come now there no need for-woah" you lost your footing for a moment barely missing a blast aimed at your head. That was weird...

Using the force you pushed the criminal back against the wall. He groaned attempting to get up but you pushed him once more. "I told you hah we could do this hah the easy hah way.." god why were you so out of breath?

Suddenly you felt incredibly lightheaded and had to press a hand against your forehead.

"Heh some sith you are, can't even handle the heat" he got to his feet picking up a discarded blaster.

Heat? Was that the reason?! Seriously?! You drew your saber, needing to end this quickly, you deflected his blasts, albeit very sloppily.

Then suddenly he pointed his weapon upwards and shot at the surrounding brick, causing a blanket of dust to envelop you. You coughed and cursed yourself for not being fast enough to evade it.

He laughed and turned around to escape.

"*Cough* oh no you don't" you weakly raised a hand and with much more concentration and focus than ever needed before, brought down a balcony on top of him. He gasped looking up but was too slow to move. You smirked at his unconcious form.

However it was quickly replaced with a frown as you felt yourself pitching to side.

Ouch

you groaned feeling the hard ground agitate your burnt skin however you were too exausted too move.

It was official, you hated this planet more than the stupid jedi.

You squinted as the bright rays beat down on your body relentlessly. If this is how I die, I'll die of embarrassment..wait no that doesn't make sense...arggh great now my brain is fried too.

Suddenly a shadow blocked your vision and you squinted trying to make out the form.

"Y/n?" Oh youd know that voice anywhere.

"Hey master..."

You heard the clanking of a trooper and an order to tie up the enemy.

Obi wan furrowed his brows confused, he could see no visible injury on your scantly clothed body.

Kneeling down he grasped your chin so you faced him, "What's wrong"?

"Mmi ot" you murmured lazily.

"Beg pardon?" He quirked a brow leaning closer.

"Hot" you managed to slip out.

He let out an scoff.

With a shake of his head he wound an arm around your back and another behind your knees scooping you up.

"You really are more trouble than your worth" he couldn't help but smirk.

"Mm" with another shake of his head he made his way back to the ship.

********************************

Later that evening...

"M-master please it's too c-cold" you shivered as the piece of ice continued sliding up and down your body relentlessly. Your master the culprit.

He tutted continuing his assault, "The whole mission I listened to you complain about the heat, now your complaining about the cold? I believe you need a lesson in endurance my dear..."

Ugh stupid smug bastard

"Ah ahh" you gasped as the ice cube suddenly slid impossibly close to your most sensitive area.

You looked up desperate and frustrated only to be met with Obi wans dangerously playfull gaze.

"And a lesson on keeping your mouth shut..."

Did I say that out loud?

"Not to worry though pet..." he climbed up over your shivering body leaning down beside your ear. "I have just the thing to keep that sharp tongue of yours busy" he whispered, the puff of hot air making you go dizzy.

As soon as heard the edge to his voice and saw the lustful glint in his eye, you knew you wouldn't be complaining for a long long long time..

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poepoe-thebunny · 3 years

Text

Rudy/Tony and Fam during Quarantine

Cause this is where my life is at, apparently. I thought I escaped the “quarantine fever writing” that everyone else got. Apparently I was wrong.

After another visit to the castle, the Thompson’s end up there in quarantine once miss rona hits the world. Thank god for WI-FI and working remotely, even if his parents look vaguely like zombies due to time zone differences. Tony can’t talk, his online schooling schedule is all sorts of weird and he’s pretty sure his teacher just wants to sleep until the whole thing is over. Honestly Tony can’t say he blames her.

The Sackville-bagg clan, as it turns out, is a surprisingly overprotective bunch when they need to be, especially now that they have accepted their humans into the fold. Even with catching up on modern medicine and germ theory, they won’t allow anything to happen to their precious humans.

(AU/headcanons incoming??

Rudy/Tony:

- Think Rudy was protective before? Think again.

- Rudy is over 300 years old, he’s old by human standards and he has met people who are old by vampire standards. He’s seen Things(TM) ok?

- He has been through more than one plague in his life. He has seen what it can do to the sick and the poor. He knows it’s a different now, that life-saving machines exist, that they’re working on a vaccine, that soap is widely available.

- But he also knows it’s not.

- Tony? Not going anywhere as far as he is concerned. Say hello to your prince, Rapunzel, cause Rudy is keeping Tony up in that tower if it kills him (again).

- He knows where all of Tony’s masks are, and where he puts the extras.

- He’ even shops online for masks with Tony, finding cool hand-sewn, gothic looking ones for Rudy himself to wear. He’s not sure if Corona even effects vampires, but Tony likes finding stuff to match his “aesthetic’ and it keeps his mortal happy.

- He waits on his mortal hand and foot in between videogames and watching Netflix. (Tony likes How to Train Your Dragon and Paranorman, Rudy likes The Little Prince and Kubo and the Two Strings.).

- Rudy’s first introduction to Tumblr is through Tony, and at one point they reach the Plague Doctor Aesthetics. While Rudy hasn’t spent much time in Italy, he doesn’t think they’re very accurate, and complains as such to his mortal.

- Rudy is surprisingly easily offended about historically inaccurate things, and it sends Tony into laughing fits.

- Rudy is Bad At Memes. Like, just in general he doesn’t always get them, and when Corona Memes become a thing he’s just constantly confused. Poor Rudy honestly.

- Tries to learn to cook healthy human food, except he hasn’t had any major kitchen experience in 200-odd years and it comes out as a disaster the first few times he tries it.

- It turns into a teaching session between him and the other adult humans, turns out the old couple who owns the castle like to feed people. Rudy walks into Tony’s room with a tray piled so high Tony can’t see his head.

-Always offering to fly around the castle to get things for Tony, even if he isn’t sick.

- TikTok dances. Tony shows him, then teaches him. Rudy is shockingly good at them, but Gregory thinks he’s cringy.

Gregory:

(Not me flexing my love of the good big brother trope, absolutely not, nope)

- Surprisingly rather take charge about the whole thing, he’s come around to the Thompson’s and the old couple.

- While his parents help when they can, they sort of take a step back, and let the three siblings explain what’s happening in the world to the clan (if they are there). Being the oldest, Gregory sort of defaults to being the leader.

-Checks in with the Thompson’s, as well as Otto and Emma (The old couple who run the place.) Asks if they need anything while they work/are in school etc.

- Warns the clan to be very careful when visiting, not just for the Thompson’s, but also because Otto and Emma are getting on in years and could become sick very easily. Always asks for a heads up before a family visit.

- Won’t tell anyone but, late at night if he’s not busy, he’ll do things around the castle for the humans, especially upkeep for Otto and Emma, while they sleep.

- Dusting hard to reach spots like chandeliers, organizing books in the old castle library, moving heavy furniture and stuff since he can fly.

-Low key drags Rudy and Anna into helping him clean

(”But Gregory, this is our home now too! I’m sure they don’t mind.”

“Humans are fragile, and they’re letting us stay here out of kindness, so don’t be rude. Clean up after yourself little brother.”

“He’s right you know.”

“Of course I am. And don’t think you’re getting out of cleaning the rafters Anna, and stop leaving your books everywhere for them to pick up.”

‘hmph.” )

- Of the vampires he’s lowkey the best at cooking human food. Tony, Rudy, and Anna just walk into the kitchen at night and Fredrick is just watching his eldest, genuinely amused, as he dances around the kitchen in a “Kill the Cook (Too late, I’m already dead)” apron, blasting out dad rock from the stereo.

-Bonds with the Thompsons over cooking human food, especially Tony’s dad after he teaches Gregory what an “air guitar” move is.

-Gregory discovers pinterest food aesthetics, and is a machine of baking, mixing, and decorating sweet candies/cakes/brownies. He wants his food to look pretty dang it.

- Anna and Rudy just watch, silently judging him.

Anna:

- She’s just thriving tbh.

- She has internet access now, and her brothers have never been more terrified.

-If Gregory is the vampire equivalent of a pinterest mommy, Anna is the vampire equivalent of creepy diy aesthetic tiktokers.

-Not like, bloody horror diy, but like, the subtly creepy but still sweet kind, like the Addams family or Coraline.

- She learned needle arts with her mom, so she’s out here sewing Coraline dolls, or patchwork dresses a la Nightmare Before Christmas cause she CAN.

-Makes her own handbag with those felt cartoonish vampire faces and big fake bat ears on the side.

-Learns more modern patterns and stuff, but will make masks for the humans as gifts, cause she doesn’t want them to get sick.

- After watching Coraline together, she made “Other Me” dolls of her brothers, button eyes included, and stuck them in their coffins. She would make them “move’ by flying them around to different rooms when her brothers weren’t looking, just to freak them out.

- Spoiler alert: it worked. They ran to Tony for help and she laughed over it for days.

- Anna loves adventure books to Rudy’s poetry and Gregory’s fables/folk tales. She hates being excluded from her brothers “adventures”.

-Tony introduces her to comics and video games and she just lives her best life.

-One of her favorite comic book character is Cassandra Cain/Blackbat/The Orphan.

- She loves books like Matilda, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Giver, as well as games like the Lara Croft/Tomb Raider series.

-VICIOUS at video games, this girl has no mercy, she will blue shell you so hard.

The Adults:

-Life is Hard(TM) right now, but the Thompson’s try to make the best of it. They’re very grateful to Otto and Emma for letting them stay.

-They’re both working remotely, so they’re a little messed up sleep schedule wise. But that’s ok, their vampire friends don’t seem to mind.

- Freda teaches Dottie how to make proper tea, cause she likes it and Dottie is sort of addicted to caffeine. Dottie teaches Freda how to make mochas and smoothies, Dottie likes mango-pineapple smoothies and Freda likes hot white chocolate mochas with cinnamon.

-Surprisingly, Frederick and Bob become pretty good friends. Frederick understands the stress of having to care for your family in very uncertain times, and the two men bond over unsure parental decisions.

-Bob is also surprisingly good at making Frederick loosen up, much to Freda and Dottie’s amusement. While initially awkward, they have a surprisingly snarky and sarcastic sort of friendship. Frederick deadpans insults at him and Bob cheerfully annoys him into Being Nice For Once while being completely aware of the fact that he’s annoying Frederick.

-Meals where Bob cooks often consists of him singing oldies into his spatula, making bad impression of certain singers, including Elvis and Cher. He is occasionally joined by Tony and Gregory, making the entire family laugh.

- Anna’s bones may be old, but she can hand sew like a goddess, and has occasionally taken to fixing up the kids’ torn clothes, as Dottie can barely keep straight lines and Freda prefers knitting.

- Someone (read: Freda) mentions that Frederick can play the cello, and after a rousing performance, it turns out that Otto can play an accordion, and of course Bob can play the guitar. A jam session occurs as the kids just stare in utter bewilderment.

- Tony’s grandparents were kinda hippies, so Bob and Dottie know a lot of oldies and folk songs, which while different than from what they normally hear, Otto and Anna connect too. They swap songs back and forth, and it turns out Dottie can do a mean Loretta lynn impression.

- Dottie likes the Beach Boys, and teaches the others how to Twist. As in, the dance, and Freda actually likes it quite a bit.

#the little vampire 3d #the little vampire #TLV #rudolf sackville-bagg #gregory sackville-bagg #anna sackville bagg #tony thompson #quarantine #is fever writing a thing???#I think it is #This is fever writing #Forgive me fandom for I have sinned

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