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#and then i was like 'hmm well it's kinda thick and metally. let's turn on the light just in case.' AND WHABAM.... BLOOD ON MY HANDS
hua-fei-hua · 7 months
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it's definitely extremely funny that after i start writing a smut For Real (not clickbait) i proceed to receive. a fucking nosebleed. like this is anime.
#it's definitely Something that it also happened like. after i seem to have lost interest in writing it#BUT ALSO THE NOSEBLEED JUST LIKE. FUCKING HAPPENED???#LIKE I WAS TRYING TO SLEEP (had been for like an HOUR) AND THEN SUDDENLY. I FEEL THIS RUSH OF LIQUID OUT MY NOSE????#and i'm like 'oh it's like when i'm ill and have a runny nose.' but i also wasn't sentient enough to think 'but i'm not sick???'#however i WAS sentient enough to think 'what if it's a nosebleed? let's taste it' AS IF I HAD A NOSEBLEED IN THE LAST DECADE#and then i was like 'hmm well it's kinda thick and metally. let's turn on the light just in case.' AND WHABAM.... BLOOD ON MY HANDS#okay well that's a lie i also smeared some on my fingers n squinted at it in the dark n was like 'that's awful dark. it might be blood'#and THEN i turned on the light and saw all the blood. my sheets have tinie bloodstain on them now. and also my stuffed unicorn :c#and then it just like. wouldn't stop. but it has stopped now! huzzah#i almost went to the bathroom to get a wad of toilet paper but then i remember i still keep a box of tissues by my bedside#from my plague days when i Definitely Fucking Needed Those Things All The Live Long Day#(oh right i got vaccinated yesterday <33 well i guess two days ago now. we love inoculation!!! i'm doing my part :D)#anyway i'm now chillin in bed with the lights on and my head tilted back bc i'm worried#that if i just try to go back to sleep then my nose will just start gushing blood again#anyway i also went and got a glass of water. that's supposed to help right? right#anyway (2) we'll see what happens to that smut. i Need to be better than my archnemesis at this#tho considering she writes like Peak any two guys shit these days i imagine it would not be that hard!#花話
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cursed-domain · 3 years
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Shiny Toys
Toji has a gun and you think it’s. Neat.
WC ~2.1k
Thanks @yuurrrrrrr for sparking the idea, I hope you like the result
Contains: NSFW!! GUN. Gun play and fear play. There’s a gun, and use of it is threatened within a consensual sexual context. Threat recipient know’s she’s ~probably~ safe but… fear is part of the excitement for her.
Also uhh dick sucking, dacryphilia and maybe a splash of degradation
I was gonna do something chill for my first fic on here but then. this happened instead. oops.
———————————————————————
“You gotta leave soon?” you ask.
Toji shakes his head. “I got time. Just for you, y’know.”
“Sure.” You laugh, because you know you’re not that special. You’re just - convenient, and maybe even a little bit interesting. And also, perhaps, insane for even being here right now. Most of the guys you’ve shared a hotel room with don’t have that kind of body count. But… fuck it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been here with him, and it won’t be the last.
Toji has his feet kicked up on a table. Seeing him so relaxed, you wouldn’t guess what he was going to do once he left. Just a job, he calls it. One that pays real well. It makes your heartbeat race, seeing him so nonchalant about the power he holds. You wish you could say it was from fear.
“Gonna be an easy one today,” he says, folding his hands behind his head. “So I got plenty of time. Just gonna take an hour and a couple toys to get it done.”
You raise your eyebrows, smirking, and he cuts you off before you can even open your mouth. “Not that kind of toy. Fuck. You can’t turn that side of your brain off for one second.”
“You make it hard.”
“Hmm.” He’s smiling. This is somewhat rare. And potentially dangerous. “You wanna see my favorite? I got it in my pocket right now.”
“Favorite toy?” You should probably just bite your tongue now. “Thought that was me.”
“You’re fuckin hilarious.” His hand moves, lightning fast, and in it materializes a handgun. Casually pointed in your general direction. Safety on, of course. You’re pretty sure. “That’s why you’re a close second.”
You get up and come to stand at his side. He spins the gun casually in his hand. It’s small, compact, shiny - “Kinda pretty,” you say.
“Yeah.” He laughs. “Pretty. Until -“ he’s quick again. It materializes right against the side of your head. “Boom.” With his free hand, he mimics a gunshot.
“…Mhmm.” Your voice is faint, suddenly, different enough from usual to make him suspicious.
“Why so quiet?” He grabs your wrist, yanking you down to lean over him. “Did I scare you?”
“Kinda.” Fuck. You can feel yourself getting red. Getting hot. “But. Um.” You glance at the weapon, still held tight in his hand.
“Oh?” His grip tightens on your wrist, and he pulls you closer. “You liked that, didn’t you?”
“Um. Maybe…”
His grip tightens on your wrist. Then he nudges your temple with the opening of the cold metal barrel, and your brain goes blank again. And with him staring you down like this, forcing you to stay right where he wants you - reflexively, your thighs clench tightly together.
Toji notices everything. He has to. And even if he didn’t, you aren’t exactly subtle. “Knew you had a long, long list of turn-ons,” he laughs, “but this is new.” Keeping the barrel pressed against your head, he yanks your arm forward, forcing you to bend down to his eye level. He kicks his feet up off the table. “You’re a little slut for danger, aren’t you?”
Your brain isn’t working. The only option is the truth. “Yes. Mhmm.“
He yanks you into position again, depositing you on his lap. “You’re very lucky you’re mine right now.” His breath is hot in your ear, his teeth bared. “Because I’m gonna have some fun with this.”
The gun doesn’t budge. You squirm in his lap as his fingernails dig into your skin.
“Stay still,” he admonishes. “You’re being so impatient already. I haven’t even done anything yet.”
You could argue against this. His free hand is already riding very high on your thigh. And sitting like this, right between his legs, feeling him through his clothes - he knows it’s unreasonable to expect your patience. But cold metal is sliding across your cheek, now, so you manage to keep yourself quiet.
“You’re shaking. Scared? Or…” The barrel rubs up against your lips, and his hand slides between your legs.
“I like being scared,“ you whisper. “‘s really hot when you’re scary.”
He scoffs. “You haven’t seen me scary. Not yet. Do you really want to?”
You nod frantically. “Mhmm.”
“Hmm.” He nudges your mouth open with the edge of the barrel. “Think you’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”
Your eyes widen as the cylinder slides past your lips and shoves into your mouth. You whimper in a faint protest as it comes close to scraping the back of your throat.
“You’ve got your lips curled back. Don’t you?” He presses his fingers and palm hard against your cunt, through your clothes, forcing a whimper out of your stuffed mouth. “Bet your tongue is dragging along the bottom, too. Don’t be embarrassed. I like that. Means you’re well trained.”
You seem to be frozen in place. But you feel your head nod, up and down.
“Now,” he says. “In a second, if you behave yourself, I’m going to take this out of your mouth. But I’m going to keep it very close to your head. You’re going to thank me for letting you go, and then you’re going to get on your knees right there on the floor. And you’re gonna suck my cock like your life depends on it, because as far as you know, it might.”
You stay frozen. You can’t say anything, and you’re suddenly very scared of answering wrong. He wouldn’t do it. It’s not a real threat. It can’t be. But the amount of power he holds over you is making you dizzy and so, so hot. You rub your damp thighs together and let yourself believe it.
“Just nod again, sweetheart. You don’t even need to make a sound.”
You force yourself to move, just enough to do as he says.
“Good. Now, it feels like your mouth is really clamped down on this thing. And I don’t wanna hurt your precious lips on the way out. So open up a little wider, alright? Very good.” As promised, his hand stays close, hovering right beside your head as the other tugs on the waist of your skirt. “Now, what do you say?”
“Th -” You’re so short of breath that you have to start over. “Thank you. Thank you - for sparing me. And - and for letting me serve you. I’ll do so good for you. I promise.”
“Gonna hold you to that, sweetheart.”
You scramble to the floor right before he rises from his seat, turning around as he pulls the waist of his pants below his hips. His toy never leaves his hand, though, and soon he’s aiming it down, right at your skull.
“Strip for me before you start,” he orders. “Give me something nice to look at, yeah?”
“Mhmm. Yes, sir.” It takes longer than it should. Your hands shake as you pull your shirt over your head and fumble over the clasp of your bra.
Once you’re naked before him, Toji grabs your jaw and tilts your head back. Then he leans over you, and trails the barrel of his gun up your stomach, stopping to hold it upright between your tits, grinning as your eyes widen. “What’re you thinking about?” He shakes his head. “Dirty little slut.” Before he stands up, he spits into your open mouth, and without hesitation, you swallow it. “‘Least you know how to behave yourself.”
He reaches out to grab your hair, twisting his fingers through it before yanking you forward. “You’re making me impatient, now,” he says.“You’re too scared to move? Let’s see if I can get you so scared that you have to.” He let’s go of your hair, and then your entire body tenses as a click echoes out above you. “Safety’s off, sweetheart. Only one way to get it back on.”
Nononono…. You don’t dare give yourself a chance to protest. You lurch forward, letting all the cock you can fit into your mouth, holding back a gag as it penetrates your throat. It’s not even close to all the way down, either. You doubt you could take him all the way - doubt anyone could. You’re too big, you whined, the first time you tried. I can’t - ‘s too much. You come up for a breath, determined to show him you’ve improved. Show him you’re worth keeping.
“Slow down, princess.” He pushes your hair back from your face and trails his index finger down your jawline. “You’re so eager. I’ve taught you better than that. Done this enough times to know you gotta build up, right?”
You pull back and nod frantically, not daring to look up. “I - I’m sorry -“ you stammer. I could die. I really could -
“Start again. Nice and slow. Control yourself.” He grins crookedly, and places his hand firmly on the back of your head. “You’ll know when it’s time to change that. Alright?”
You squeak out an “mhmm,” not even giving yourself time to nod your head before you lick a thick, slow stripe up the underside of Toji’s cock. You’re not sure if you can control yourself enough to do anything more precise. You’re shaking, blinking hard and fast as you coat his shaft with your tongue. You manage to move up to the tip, enveloping it in your mouth as your tongue flicks gently underneath.
You don’t let yourself think. If you think, you’ll panic. Just one little twitch of his finger… and you asked for all of this. You’re fucking enjoying it.
You feel your tears welling up, but you don’t dare stop to wipe your eyes dry. You force yourself to follow your practiced motions, working your lips and tongue up and down his cock, over and over until the tears running down your cheeks mix with the drool overrunning the boundaries of your mouth.
Your eyes glance up at him, and you can tell from his expression that you are perfect. A perfect, terrified, sobbing, cock-hungry mess. Your jaw is tired, but you don’t dare stop. It’s almost a relief when he takes over, grabbing the back of your head and fucking hard into your open mouth, grinning wider as the beginnings of a gag bubble up in your throat. And there’s still more -
He lowers the gun for moment. Right in front of your face. Turned to the side so you can see his finger hovering over the trigger. “You wanna keep me happy, don’t you, love? Wanna keep yourself happy?”
A strange, pathetic little moan vibrates out of your mouth. Yes, you think. Anything -
“Then don’t you dare fucking struggle.”
Cold metal digs into your skull, and Toji’s nails dig into the back of your head as he forces you to stay still against the rutting of his hips. You whimper around the base of his cock as you try to resist the urge to pull back against his hand. Again and again, he forces as much as you’ve ever taken into your poor, exhausted throat. And of course, you don’t shy away one bit. Don’t even tug against his hand when you gag. There’s nothing you can do but let him fuck your throat raw.
Don’t try to stop, you tell yourself. Don’t fucking stop, or - or -
Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, you’re yanked back one last time. You look up, eyes still teary, as your tongue is coated with cum. You open your mouth wide so Toji can see it pooled before you swallow. There’s a click, and then something heavy clangs down on the table in front of you.
Toji’s hands, both empty, twist through your hair and then cup your face. He smiles down at you, holding you in place until your breaths slow and your heart rate steadies. “You wanna know something?
You nod, and he pulls you to your feet. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and leaning down to whisper his secret into your ear. “It was empty. Just hollow metal.”
“It…” you take a moment to understand. When you do, you bury your face in his shirt, suddenly blinking back tears all over again. “Toji… you fucking liar.”
“You wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun if I’d told you, princess. But I’m not quite that fucked up.” He grabs a fistful of your shirt and pulls you back, tipping your chin up with one finger. “Not around you, anyways.”
He’s grinning. Like a fucking psychopath. And it just makes you want to do it all again.
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dameronology · 3 years
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wait on {din djarin x reader}
summary: boba fett is a good therapist, and din djarin is spectacular at being nosey. the result? a much needed conversation. perhaps there’s a silver lining. {kinda based on this song}
warnings: angst, language, swearing, s2 spoilers
this one hurts a lil bit but i promise the ending is happy. enjoy!!
-jazz
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The air between you was thick, not unlike the beskar that the Mandalorian was wearing. 
It was funny, really, because you’d never minded the armour all that much before. Your ability to see straight through it and see Din Djarin for what he really was had been what made him fall in love with you, and you with him. Now, it felt like a barrier between you. Inches of thick metal and fabric, shielding him from the world around him. From you. The one person he usually held closest to his heart; the one person he’d let see his face for the first time in years. The man was hardly a conversationalist at the best of times but he’d opened up to you. Shared his world with you and intertwined it with yours. Built something with you that you'd both protect with your lives. 
Now, he was straying away. Forever attached by an invisible string, but with galaxies and galaxies between you. Even though he was mere inches from you, sat two seats over, there was a chilly air; if your relationship was a warm, welcoming house, the atmosphere he’d plunged you both into was the cold winter’s night on the other side of the glass. You wanted to go back, to drag him inside and slam and bolt the door behind you. Instead, you were forced to watch through the windows, knowing what was there but never quite truly getting close enough to let it envelope you. 
You couldn’t hold it against him. The last few weeks had been rough on you both, and it only come to a head today. Grogu had been taken by the Imps and the Crest had been blown up before your very eyes. It was one of those times that truly and wholly showed the difference between you and Din: you sought him out and he pulled away. You’d learnt a long time ago not to follow him. You wanted to. Fuck, you wanted to, but you’d learnt the hard way that it was a bad idea. 
Despite the icy silence and ache for your kidnapped toad son, you were still grateful for the fact Boba Fett had offered his ship as transport and shelter. You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was, but Din seemed to trust him, and so by extension, you did too. Things were a little cramped in the hull of the ship, but there was a spare sleeping quarters for you and the Mandalorian to squish into, assuming he’d let you. You didn’t want to ask him, because you were scared of the answer. 
Instead, you found yourself sat out on the dusty plains of...wherever the hell you were. Boba had parked the ship up overnight so that you could rest; it seemed to be some kind of desert planet. Not too different to Nevarro or Tatooine, but perhaps a little colder. The sky had long faded to black, casting a darkness over the sandy plains ahead of you. The chilly air was a welcome contrast against the stuffiness of the bedroom - it wasn’t even hot in there, just filled with some kind of inexplicable tension. And not the sexy kind; the regular, all-consuming type. You could feel it slowly etching into your frontal lobe, sinking in its claws and giving you a stress head-ache. Letting out a few deep breaths, you let the gusts of cold wind blow over your bare arms. 
‘A little cold out here, isn’t it?’
The voice was gravelly and unfamiliar, but one that you knew belonged to Boba Fett. 
‘Yeah, maybe.’ You didn’t turn around to look, instead letting your eyes stay focused on the distance. There was nothing ahead. Just darkness and sand. ‘Fresh air is nice, though.’
‘Or maybe the air inside is bad.’ He countered. Boba took a seat on the rock beside you, jokingly whacking his knee against yours. ‘What’s on your mind?’
‘Just...what happened today, I suppose.’ You replied. ‘We lost the kid, and our ship.’
‘You’re handling it better than your Mandalorian.’ He replied. 
‘I don’t think he’s my Mandalorian.’ You snorted. ‘He’s just...he doesn’t normally deal with so much at once. I think he just needs time to process it all, you know?’
‘Perhaps.’ Boba said. ‘And do you always make excuses for him?’
‘I beg your sweet pardon?’ You turned to look at him. 
‘Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but I’ve always been an observant man.’ He began. ‘I saw how you immediately went to him, to check on him, and how you fought beside him,  yet he’s barely even looked at you.’
‘Ouch.’ You muttered. ‘You might be observant you but certainly do not tread lightly.’
‘My apologies.’ He curtly nodded. 
‘It’s not always been like this.’ Your words felt forced. You were making excuses. ‘And it won’t always be.’
‘You know him better than anyone, or so I assume.’ Boba reminded you. ‘But don’t be afraid to remind him what he has, despite what he’s lost.’
He was right. Din could be distant, and he could be fucking ignorant without even trying, but you hadn’t strayed from his side once. Not for a second. It could be frustrating to deal, with but you loved him with your whole being, in a soul-consuming sorta way, and you knew he was capable of coming around. Your mother had always preached songs of love being patient and kind but as you saw it, it was frustrating, and at times the most inconvenient thing in the world. You must have had the patience of a saint to deal with him. He was just lucky he made it worth it (and that underneath all the armour, he wasn’t too bad to look at. It certainly helped his case). 
You let out a sad laugh. ‘I couldn’t. Di - Mando already struggles to express his feelings and I’d only make it worst if I said he wasn’t doing it well enough.’
‘You know your worth.’ Boba said. ‘Only you can decide if he appreciates it enough.’
‘He does.’ You quickly replied. ‘I know he does.’ 
He gave you a doubtful look, one that said I think you’re bullshitting, but I won’t disagree. He was simply sharing his observations, even if they were a little much. But the man hadn’t had any proper social interaction for a long time, so you could hardly blame him - and he had a sort of wise air to him, like he’d been round the block a couple times. He certainly seemed like the sort of person you should listen to.
‘I’ll leave you with this: the life of a Mandalorian is complicated.’ He dusted off his knees, before standing up. ‘You should make sure it’s worth it before you fully commit.’
‘I-’ you tried to speak, but you were cut off by the sound of a twig snapping under someone’s boot. Why the fuck were there twigs in the desert? More to the point, why was that your immediate thought? 
You both sharply turned around, coming face-to-face with a Mandalorian. Not a Mandalorian, but the Mandalorian. The one you’d just been talking about. The one whose heart would have been broken into a million tiny pieces if he’d even a word of what you just said. And, from the way his helmet tilted ever so slightly to the left, you figured he’d heard more than enough. Fuck. 
'Don’t let me stop you.’ His modulated voice wavered ever so slightly. ‘I’ll see you inside.’
He turned on his heel, heavy steps taking him back towards the Slave I. To anyone else, his body language hadn’t changed, but you could read him like a book. A complicated book, and one that was missing more than half its pages and was in a dozen different fucking languages, but one you’d read a thousand times. Understanding Din Djarin was hard, and you’d only just begun -  barely touched the surface in fact - but it was more than anyone else could say. 
‘Wait!’ You leapt up, almost comically falling over as you rushed after him. 
Sensing that his presence was probably not welcome, Boba returned to his seat on the rock, silently hoping that Fennec Shand was either a) asleep, or b) had enough common sense to stay the fuck out of the way of whatever was about to go down. 
‘I swear to maker if you shut that door -’ you were cut off by...the door shutting in your face. Djarin: 1. You: 0.
You let out a small groan, slamming your fist against it. 
‘Okay, maybe I deserved that.’ You quietly muttered. ‘But will you please listen to me?’
Silence. 
‘Fine.’ You splayed your fingers out against the metal. ‘Ice me out, Din Djarin. I’m more than used to it by now.’
There was a gruff hmm from the other side of the door. Had he really just taken offence to that?
‘It’s funny, really.’ You continued. ‘Because the part of that conversation you didn’t hear was me defending you. Like I always fucking do, because I know that despite everything, you’re a human being and you love me.’
There was a small thud, as though Din had placed his hand in a similar position to yours.
‘But Boba has a point.’ Your voice fell to a whisper. ‘I keep giving and I get nothing back. Instead of letting me in, you just shut me out and I know you’re upset at what he said but for the love of everything holy in this shitty world, do not prove him right.’
It was a risky ultimatum, and not one you’d seen coming. Your chest had tightened as soon as the words left your mouth, because you knew that if Din stayed silent, that was it. You’d have to let him go; to accept that you would never get back what you putting in. Before, you were able to convince yourself that you were okay with that but maybe, just maybe you weren’t. Waiting around for something that had no guarantee of happening was like beating a dead horse that had no guarantee of coming back to life. The only thing that was promised was emotional exhaustion and then eventual death. You would have liked to have found something between those two waypoints - whether Din Djarin could be the one to give it to you? You didn’t know. 
After a moment of silence, the door finally opened, and you came face to face with him. Like actually face to face with him; no helmet, no armour. Just a loose tunic and tired brown eyes, matched with lazily-shaven facial hair and knitted brows. That was Din. Your Din. 
‘Can I just...can I just talk for a moment?’ He asked. ‘I have something to say and I want to get it right.’
‘Of course.’ You nodded. 
‘I’m not hurt by what you said.’ He stated. ‘I know I don’t show you enough love and it hurts that I don’t know how, but I am trying. I promise you that much.’
You gave him a tearful smile. ‘Yeah, I know.’
‘I just wish that you could say it to me and not to him.’ He murmured. ‘I don’t want you to hold back on anything, ever. You can always come to me. Even if it’s about me.’
‘I get that.’ Your eyes fell to the floor. ‘It’s just that I know you’re trying your best and I’m scared you’ll think that your best isn’t enough.’ 
‘It’s not.’ Din’s words took you by surprise. ‘It’s not enough, but one day, I hope it will be.’
‘I don’t know what to say, because if I deny it-’
‘- you don’t have to say anything.’ He cut you off. ‘I want to give you the world. And I will, if you’ll be patient with me.’
You took every word as gospel as he said it. The Mandalorian was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. And to his credit, every promise he’d made to you before, he’d delivered on. You didn’t doubt for a second that this one would be the same. It wasn’t even naivety or wishful thinking. 
‘I mean, I’ve come this far.’ You tried to crack a joke. You finally looked up from the floor, his brown eyes meeting yours. 
‘I love you.’ He took your hands in his, words firm. ‘That’s all I can give you right now. I’m sorry.’
‘Din.’ The words barely come out as a whisper. ‘Never apologise. Please never apologise. I just...it’s nice to hear it, you know? A little more often than every time you almost die.’
‘Are the words enough on their own?’
‘Yes.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘Because I know you mean them.’
Din wrapped his arms you, pulling you tightly against his chest. It was warm and soft, miles away from the cold armour that so often greeted you. He held you tightly and with a new kind of might you were previously yet to experience, clinging onto you as though it were the last time. It wasn’t - it was far from the last time. Rather, it was the first time. The first time that he’d spoken of a future with you, or fully promised himself to you. You knew you would get there one day. You’d just needed him to say it himself before you could believe it. 
Din Djarin was giving you tiny little pieces on himself each day, and one day, you would have all of him. 
tags: @meshlababy @bo-kryze @poestardust @aqueencomplexx @princessxkenobi @cosmic-rich @captn-andor @buttercup--bee​ @maharani-radha​ @kat-r-in​
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ahtsumu · 3 years
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vignettes from a simple and good life ; miya osamu
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pairing: miya osamu x f!reader
synopsis: a year in review.
tag(s): fluff ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, kinda bad but i tried LOL ; wc: 1.3k
a/n: happy birthday to @bbytetsu​ ​! ik i said i wouldn’t write anything but i’m a woman of my own word. also sorry this isn’t geto LOL. anyway this is kinda different from anything i’ve ever done but i hope you like it! love u
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1.
he walks past you and suddenly the world’s aflame.
“um,” you stutter, turning around with wide eyes. “excuse me?”
cool grey irises hold your gaze expectantly.
he’s gorgeous.
“i–” you falter. there’s no way you can describe the feeling that made you turn around. the gravitational pull that sometimes occurs between strangers. perhaps the clever tugging of two red strings. separate melodies that converge at whim on a concord. it’s all so abstract, but that’s what you’re good at.
to your surprise, he just smiles. “same.”
2.
learning miya osamu is like learning to whistle: either you get it or you don’t.
you get it.
you get that he’s not at all the serious, stony-faced man he makes himself out as. that he’s hot-headed and petty but doesn’t want to be. that just because he’s not laughing doesn’t mean he’s not amused.
miya osamu is the dead of night and all the mischief that happens during it.
3.
seven a.m. is too early. osamu isn’t sure how he used to get up even earlier for morning practice, but then he remembers that that was when he loved volleyball. either way, it’s seven a.m. and for some god-forsaken reason, miya osamu is going on a hike.
(god-forsaken is a bit dramatic. it’s not all that bad – he’s just grumpy in the morning. actually, to think of it, it’s not bad at all…)
“one cappuccino," he tells the barista. and then his eyes widen. smiling, he adds, “and a matcha latte, please.”
4.
it dawns upon you in the passenger seat of his car.
“what?” he asks, feeling your eyes on him as he drives.
“… nothing.”
“tell me,” he laughs, squeezing your hand with his free one.
“later,” you promise, feeling giddy with realization.
osamu hums, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
5.
the light from his laptop illuminates osamu’s darkened bedroom, bathing both of you in a subtle blue glow. osamu looks down at your body tucked into his side and smiles. he whispers your name. “are you awake?”
there’s no reply – just the steady stream of your shallow breaths.
maybe you hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the middle of your movie night but now that you have, osamu doesn’t have the heart to wake you. it’s late, it’s still a little cold outside at night, and it’s not like you’re busy tomorrow morning…
and maybe he doesn’t want you to go. carefully, osamu shifts around to make you both comfortable, slings an arm over your waist, and closes his eyes.
you wake up to the smell of breakfast and the swingy tune of twenties jazz.
6.
how do you know it’s love?
you tell him that he feels like a soft blanket and a rollercoaster ride at the same time.
he laughs and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest right where his heart is.
“that’s how i know,” he says.
7.
when you step into his apartment, the first thing you notice is the mouthwatering scent floating out of the kitchen.
“babe?” you call out.
a muffled “kitchen!” reaches your ears.
the kitchen’s a mess of ingredients. and in the middle of the mess is your boyfriend. lo and behold, miya osamu is yet again experimenting with new recipes for onigiri miya, mixing potential fillings in a large metal bowl, wearing the “kiss the chef” apron you bought him a while back. he takes a bite of the stuff on his spoon and looks up at the ceiling in thought. not a single muscle in his face twitches, probably because he isn’t sure what to think of it.
you clear your throat. “hey, you.”
smiling, osamu spins around. “hi, angel. can you taste this and tell me whatcha think?” he spoons out some more of the mixture in the bowl, holding it out for you to try.
“sure,” you say, and you ignore the spoon, pressing your lips to osamu’s for a kiss instead. when you pull away, you lick your lips and hum. “needs more salt.”
the grin on his face is absolutely charmed. “i thought so, too.”
8.
what most people get wrong about miya osamu is that he doesn’t talk much.
he does.
(“and i told her she had the wrong place, but that woman just wouldn’t leave,” he complains, pacing around your living room with so much force that you think you might have to check on the rug once he’s gone. “held up the entire line, too. so embarrassin’. and then she said she’d leave us a one-star review, which is ridiculous because it’s not like i could make her a burrito, right? jesus. so i told her to go fu–”
“babe,” you laugh, pulling him gently towards the sofa.
osamu sits down beside you and inhales deeply. “so i tell her to go fuck herself–” he pauses when your hand runs through his jet black hair. seconds later, you feel his firm body melt against your arms.
“well, go on,” you say with a giggle. “what happened after?”)
osamu just doesn’t talk to most people.
9.
and when he isn’t talking, he’s thinking.
“i saw something funny earlier. if you were a tortured poet,” you ask on the walk home, “what would be the cringey quote people know you for?”
osamu raises his brows and looks up at the sky. “hmm,” he says, grinning. the two of you continue walking as he mulls over your question. a few minutes later, he says, “take not my silence for a lack of thought. i am always thinking. i am haunted by the magnitude of thoughts i can never put to spoken word.”
you stop in your tracks. “that was actually good,” you say in disbelief. “what the hell? ‘magnitude’? seriously?”
he shrugs and slings an arm over your shoulder. “i’ve been readin’ lately. forbes said somethin’ about good leaders readin’ books’.”
“are you actually haunted, though? ‘cause you can always tal–”
“no,” osamu laughs. “i like my thoughts. and if i really like ‘em, i just say ‘em. it’s a simple and good life.”
10.
“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, pressing kisses up your neck.
the air’s thick with tension and want and he needs to be closer – he needs every inch of your bare skin touching his and even then that wouldn’t be close enough.
but it’d be a great place to start.
“god, you’re so beautiful.”
11.
when he steps into your bedroom, you don't even notice.
“hey,” osamu says, knocking on the door.
jumping in your seat, you whip your head around to face the intruder. “you scared me,” you sigh.
“i texted you this morning and it’s almost midnight now,” he says, frowning. “had me worried.” osamu walks to your desk and observes your work over your shoulder.
“i’m sorry,” you apologize, tilting your head back against his chest. “this is due soon and i lost track of time. i’ve been at this since midnight last night.”
osamu’s frown deepens. “what?” he spins you around in your chair and studies your face with disbelief. but seeing the bags under your eyes and frazzled hair, he suddenly completely believes you. of course you’d procrastinate for days and then work yourself to the bone.
his firm hands find your shoulders and squeeze. “take a break.”
“‘samu–”
“or at least let me give you a little massage.”
12.
“when i stopped you in the street,” you say, “what was going through your mind?”
osamu laughs, the light sound melting into the mellow atmosphere of the restaurant. “nothing. absolutely nothing.”
“how romantic.”
“for the first time in my life,” he says, grey eyes twinkling, “my head went silent.”
he raises his glass of wine and takes a sip.
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remmushound · 3 years
Text
@brightlotusmoon @errorfreak88 Part 3 of my bay/rise crossover.
Leonardo didn't know where he was, and frankly he wasn’t sure he cared. He was more concerned about not knowing where April and Splinter and Donatello and Raphael were. His brothers— his family! He had reached out to them, felt his fingers brush against Splinters, and then they were being pulled apart again. Pulled away from each other. Then Leonardo was flying out of the rift, clinging with all his might to the only one he had managed to protect. Michelangelo. He landed hard, skipping across metal with solid thuds like a rock on water as he clung to the box turtle’s shell, his baby brother still hiding within. The bouncing eventually turned into a slide that brought Leonardo to crash against a wall. Pain shot through his extremities, but it only made him hold on to Michelangelo even tighter.
The minute they stopped, Michelangelo popped out his shell with a sharp yipe, his arms shooting out and wrapping around Leonardo to cling to him like a security blanket. Leonardo couldn’t help but smile and rubbed the younger mutants head in a comforting motion.
“It’s okay, hermano. Just a little bit of a bumpy ride.”
Michelangelo whimpered and his nose went back into his shell.
“Oh come on! Don’t be like that!”
Michelangelo pulled his arms and legs back in as well.
“Awww, come on~” Leonardo pushed himself away from the wall to lean over Michelangelo and peek into the shell as his shadowed face. “You know you wanna come out!”
“Where is out?” Michelangelo asked, his voice carrying a strange echo.
“Er…” Leonardo looked around. He didn't recognize the place, a giant metal ball with a spiraling floor design and a high ceiling, a blinking light at the top of it. He hummed and narrowed his eyes at the luring draw of the light, but didn't acknowledge it Past that. “Pokeball?”
“What? No we’re not!”
“Well how you gonna know if you don’t come out?”
Leonardo smirked and leaned back to give Michelangelo enough space to emerge. Michelangelo peeked his nose out once more.
“That’s it! Just a little more!” Leonardo encouraged.
Michelangelo’s full head poked out, and his neck too so he could look around at their surroundings. “Woah. This is so cool!”
“Cool isn’t exactly the word I’d use.” Leonardo whistled and stood up, reaching for his sword naturally. It was nowhere on his body.
“Hey uh— you don’t happen to have your yoyo, do you Miguel?”
“Um…” Michelangelo reached to his belt and frowned. “No. It’s gone somewhere… do you have your swords?”
“No.”
The structure gave a powerful groan and Michelangelo yelped, attaching himself to Leonardo’s side like glue. “It’s spooky here…”
Leonardo would be lying if he said that a similar anxiety hadn’t grown in his gut the moment they entered this strange place. Cold, dark, mechanical— everything Donatello loved, except without the eccentric nature. But he couldn’t be scared now. He has Michelangelo to look after, and right now his baby brother needed him.
“Hey hey hey, don’t get soft on me now!” Leonardo beamed, leaning down to Michelangelo’s level. “We just escaped the mother-freaking Shredder and you’re scared of a dingy little metal ball?”
“It’s not very little, Leo…”
Leonardo scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. “Potato potahto! Tomato tomatoh! Shredder, Giant Metal Ball of Doom! What’s the difference?”
Michelangelo didn't answer.
“The only one I can think of is that Shredder was waaaay scarier!”
“Oh really?”
Both turtles froze at the new voice. Leonardo gently placed his brother down, keeping an arm still wrapped around him to keep them both close.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” The new voice laughed in a mocking, wheezing tone, “Turn around.”
Leonardo could see no other option other than to obey. He gave Michelangelo a reassuring pat and held his brother just a little tighter before turning to face whoever it was that had called out to them.
The creature was big, a body near as broad as Raphael’s carapace and a shape that was loosely spherical. It’s entire body gleamed with a layer of slime that oozed out from folds on the sides of it’s head, and every so often a tentacle would reach up to gather the accumulating mucus and spread it throughout its body to keep itself moist. There was a crown on its head, a ridge higher than the rest of its body that slightly resembled the crown of certain dinosaurs. Leonardo could almost swear that whatever it was, was the brain of some massive creature, escaped from its body to do whatever it is that giant, tentacle-having brains do.
“Well?” The creature stroked feelers on it’s face, what could pass as lips parting to reveal tiny, dolphin-like teeth.
Leonardo only allowed himself enough time to blink before he forced his smile to come back and meet the strangers smirk. “Well what?”
The creature lunged forward, supported by pipes that extended out from the misproportioned battle suit, bringing it within inches of touching Leonardo. “Aren’t you scared?”
“Scared of what? A chewed up wad of bubble gum that gained sentience?”
It growled and one of its tentacles came down upon Leonardo, covering him in the thick, viscous coating of it’s body.
“Oh I’m sorry! Did I get some slime on you?”
Leonardo didn't flinch. He reached out a hand and poked the creature on the nose. “It is not slime, it is mucus!”
It growled and swatted Leonardo before pulling back again closer to its suit. “Who said you could touch me with your foul, disease-ridden hands?!”
“Hey hey hey!” Leonardo threw his hands up in surrender, “I bathe regularly! It’s Raphael you gotta look out for.”
“You think you’re funny, do you?” It squinted its eye at Leonardo.
“I think I’m adorable. Don’t you?” Leonardo put his hands under his chin and batted his eyes.
“I think you’re an obnoxious freak of nature.” It tried to draw forth a violent reaction, but Leonardo remained cool.
“Eh, aren’t we all?” Leonardo shrugged, “But this obnoxious freak of nature has a name. Do you?”
The creature seemed to consider Leonardo’s question for a moment before saying, “It’s Krang.”
Leonardo snickered.
“What?” Krang snapped, almost defensively, “What’s so funny?”
“Sorry— sorry!” Leonardo almost keeled over laughing.
“What’s so funny— what’s so funny, it’s just my name!”
“It’s just— ahahaha— did your mom hate you or something?”
Michelangelo started to finally get in on the laughing, and soon both brothers were almost falling over.
“I chose my own name— the Queen doesn’t have time to name all of us!” Krang defended, grunting as its features scrunched up.
“So you’re saying you have a face not even a mother could love?” Leonardo smirked, recovering from his laughter at will. “Man, that is depressing!”
“ENOUGH!” Krang shot two wired pipes forward to grab Michelangelo and Leonardo, squeezing them harshly. “Now you listen here, little turtles! I am not in the mood for games.” It’s eyes glanced between the brothers in an almost alien way, “And if all you’re going to do is play with me, then I’m going to put you away in my toybox.”
“Sounds fun!” Michelangelo piped.
“Fun?” Krang shifted to look at Michelangelo.
“Yeah! In a big box with a whole bunch of other people, having slumber parties every night!” Michelangelo hummed and sighed.
“Well, I’m glad you’re going to enjoy yourself. It’s an extended stay.”
Krang shifted slightly, its armor suit slow and topheavy, and at the press of a button on the suit the floor began to open up and reveal a spiraling display case. Rows upon rows of small, frozen containers. A thick layer of frosty smoke escaped through the opening and filtered out through vents. Krang hung the two brothers over the drop and loosened his grip just to feel the fear of his prisoners. Looking down into the endless abyss of bodies distorted by frost and age, Leonardo felt a sense of vertigo overtake him. It seemed Krang latched onto the fear almost immediately, judging by the evil expression on its face.
“Not so eager to visit the other toys now, are you?” Krang laughed and pulled Michelangelo and Leonardo back over solid ground, putting them down as the ground closed once more. “Now maybe you’ll play nicely.”
“Where are my brothers?” Leonardo demanded, “My family?”
“They’re fine. They were spit out somewhere or other. Does it really matter?”
“Yes.” Leonardo snarled.
“Hmm…” Krang rubbed their folds in concentration, “Then why don’t we make a deal, little turtle?”
“What kinda deal?” Leonardo returned to hugging his brother as Michelangelo cowered against him.
“I didn't just call you here to chat.”
“Well you’re sure doing a lot of talking anyway.” Leonardo grumbled under his breath.
“I brought you here for a far more important reason.” It folded its tentacles over its mouth.
“Care to share with the class?”
Krang huffed. “You have something that interests me— or more like had. You see, a year ago today I tried to take over the earth.”
Leonardo laughed. “Didn't do a good job— you didn't even make the news! I’m sure I would know if there was a broadcast about a giant brain in a robot suit tried to take over the planet.”
“Not your earth. A different earth.”
“There’s more than one?” Michelangelo asked.
“Oh, there is a plethora of earths, all slightly different from the last! But yours… intrigues me. It’s one of the more recent ones, and the use of your ‘mystic magic’ caught my attention.” Krang circled Leonardo like a cat with a mouse, “The way you teleport around with such ease, even without a beacon to guide you~”
“Spit it out, Gellatinous, I haven’t got all day.”
“You’re very impatient for someone whose at the mercy of one far smarter.”
“Eh, I can handle Donnie, but that has nothing to do with this.” Leonardo snarked off, “What do you want?”
“I have you, and I have your family, and I have your sword.”
“Great. And what does that have to do with the price of jelly doughnuts?”
“I want you to show me how to use the magic you possess, and afterwards I will let you and your brothers go back on your merry way!”
“I thought you were all knowing or whatever.”
“I never claimed that. I too need to learn like every creature does.”
“How do we know you’re not lying about letting us go?” Michelangelo pouted, sticking out his lip.
“Do I look like the lying type to you?”
“Yes.” Michelangelo and Leonardo said as one.
“Mm. Clever boys. Well, the answer is that you don’t know. But you don’t really have many choices either.”
“Mm. Fair.” Leonardo shrugged. “Whatchu need me to show you?”
“How to activate the rift that you’ve seemed to master.” Krang tapped its tentacles together.
“Oh that’s easy! You just take the sword and go woosh woosh,” Leonardo made vague gesture, “Then it goes all whoooooo whaaaaa bwaaaaa!” He made a motion of a rift opening. “Then you go all ‘take me so and so’ and badda bing badda boom, you’re done! That work?” Leonardo clicked his tongue and wink.
“What.” Krang narrowed his eyes.
“Well, you take the pointy part and go whish woosh, then slish slash, hundred yard dash, and you’re in Paris!”
“I— I don’t understand what you’re saying!”
“Well you take the thing and do the thing so it makes a thing then you go through the thing and bam: the thing is done! Take a break and get yourself a pizza for your hard work.”
“You’re getting on my nerves.”
“Exactly how many nerves does a brain have anyway?”
“I’M NOT A BRAIN I’M AN UTROM!”
“A who-trom?” Michelangelo tilted his head.
“AN UTROM!”
“You-tron?” Leonardo asked with a smirk.
“GRRR— just show me how to do it!” Krang pulled Leonardo’s sword out of thin air and dropped it into Leonardo’s hands. “And don’t think you can outsmart me!”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, K-Pop.” Leonardo took the sword and pointed it, dragging it to make a circle. His face illuminated the glow and he smiled.
“Yes!” Krang cheered, smilingly widely and holding out its tentacles to Leonardo. “Give it to me!”
“Yeeeeah, no.” Leonardo stared a moment and then winked before stepping through the blue and disappearing along with the mystic portal.
“NO!” Krang launched himself forward and grabbed at the space where the turtles had once been, “GET BACK HERE!”
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Text
Man’s Best Friend
Allen, walked the streets of downtown Boston. His breath was slightly visible and frost-covered everything he could see. It would have been beautiful to anyone, but him. The frost reminded him of the feeling in his soul, cold and sharp. 
His year had not been a good one. He had started welding school, but though his skills were on point, the classes were much more difficult than he realized. Each lecture and the remembering of various formulas left him cursing. Studying felt like learning a new language, while tutors felt out of reach.
To save money he decided to remain with his family in the south side of Boston, but the stress they caused made him not want to be there. Every day felt like another fight between him and his brothers. First, he and Oliver, were constantly going back and forth over things like his choice of school and his lack of a stable dating life. It wasn't his fault the ladies just fell at his feet. 
His brother Matt and him were always just angry with each other. Allen could not pinpoint what started their fighting, but whatever had caused it, created such intense animosity they both acted like fighting dogs. Sizing up each other up before going in for a chance to kill. 
The only one he was on some decent ground with was his brother François. Sure they fought a lot too. Moments of insults and crude language had become common between them. Despite that at the end of the day, Allen found comfort in his grumpy brother. Allen thought it was because François was the only one that would actually give some kind of feed back that was not an insult.
The more his thoughts lingered on school and home life, the more cold Allen could feel himself become. The fighting was taking its toll, and school was starting to become a chore. He wasn't sure how much longer he could go on. He felt himself getting close to sna-.
Woof
Allen's head rose, brown hair shifted with the shake of his head, his thoughts were temporarily forgotten. Was that a dog? Most of the strays he had seen seemed to live by a code of silence. Always watching but never barking. For all he knew it could be a stress induced hallucination.
Again a deep woof resonated along the empty streets. 
With the second bark Allen realized it was no mere hallucination. Almost against his will, Allen moved toward the source of the barking. He walked a few feet into an alley. 
It was dark, cold, and there were many different trash cans along the way. Some were silver and metal, others were green and plastic. Trash was thrown in various clumps along the walls. The smell around it made his nose wrinkle. By this point the dog had stopped barking. Its silence made him think that the dog had moved on until it barked again. 
He had come this far, he might as well continue on to find it. In his mind, Allen told himself at least it was an excuse as to why he stayed out so late. 
As his feet moved down the alley he noticed it was shorter than it first appeared. It quickly let out to an old train junction. It was gray in the late fall air and as he heard another bark, he changed his course.
Stepping over the dark steel train tracks, he heard the barking increase in intensity. Then as soon as it started, he heard it change into small whimpers and howls. 
The juncture had been abandoned and in its run down state, Allen had to avoid various holes left from its neglect. As he drew closer to the now whimpering dog, he noticed its source seemed to be in one of the holes he had worked to avoid. 
Looking down, Allen saw a huge dog. It had a dark coat, but it was covered in globs of thick dark mud and small splinters of wood. Allen assumed it was stuck due to the steep walls that prevented an escape. 
The sight alone made Allen's heart clench. This was man's best friend and it was left here to rot. Without a second thought, Allen was crouching down by the hole. Clicking his tongue Allen stretched his tan hand toward the beast of the hole.
It looked at him, before lifting its head to smell the outstretched hand. With no other reaction than the sniff, Allen took it as his go-ahead. 
His hands reached down and grabbed the beast by its scruff. The dog growled for just a second, but once Allen started lifting it stopped. With a couple of grunts and heaves of his toned biceps that dog was out.
With its tail wagging and tongue panting, the dog hopped around. Allen chuckled as the dog continued its romp and looked back up at him. He stood up, brushing the mud from his clothes. 
"You're free buddy."
He gave a firm pat to its head as he turned to walk away. 
It wasn't more than a few steps before Allen realized that he was being followed. Doing what most people do, he turned and attempted to shoo the dog away. 
The dog just stopped and looked at Allen. It's head cocked and showed confusion. Allen tried again and shooed at it. Instead of leaving it came closer and wagged its tail.
Allen sighed. The dog was kinda cute and it was cold outside. Maybe he could house the big idiot for the night. Then find it a good home, or its owner. Allen wasn't sure if the dog was microchipped and he didn't recall feeling a collar.
He patted his thigh as he turned back to walk home. The dog quickly followed wagging along side his savior. 
Their walk was quiet and as the sun set the street lights took over and casted a harsh golden gleam. Allen's once barely visible breathe turned into dragon's smoke as he and the dog moved silently in the streets to his home. 
Allen could see his home in the distance. Its red brick walls and white shutters made him groan. He knew he had to reach the house eventually, but he wished it wasn't so soon. 
Looking at his new furry friend, he gestured. 
"This is it, my gateway to hell."
In tandem they walked into the house. It was quiet and that was never a good sign. He felt the heavy stare from blue swirled eyes. Looking around Allen saw those eyes again in the corner of the living room. It was his older brother, Oliver.
"Allen, you're finally home... and you brought a disgusting mutt."
Allen could feel the vein in his forehead twitch. Clenching his jaw, he breathed out.
"He ain't disgusting. Just covered in mud. I'm gonna bathe it and find it a home."
Oliver snorted at his attitude. Did Allen really think that it was ok to bring such a filthy animal into his home.
"Allen, take it outside."
"No."
"Why not."
"It's cold and it maybe hurt."
Oliver rolled his eyes, he could careless for the mongrel and if it died so what. It was dirty and Allen should be listening to his elder.
"Allen I am going to ask you one more time. Refuse and be punished. Now, take it outside."
"No, it has a right to be here too."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Oliver threw a punch at Allen's stomach. Though smaller than him, Oliver's punch left him winded. The grunt spooked the dog and caused it to start barking.
Oliver looked over not amused. He thought it would be best to shut it up, after all Matt was out drinking with François and Allen didn't have the skills to save it. He'd make it quick and save them both the trouble. 
As Oliver reached for his knife, the dog pounced on him. Knocking them both on to the floor and the knife from Oliver's hand. It landed somewhere in the room.
Oliver held eye contact with the beast as it growled and something in those eyes made him freeze.
"Allen get this MUTT OFF ME!"
Allen having recovered some from the punch, looked amused at Oliver's fear. He couldn't help but wonder what happened to that condescending attitude from moments before. 
"Well Ollie, I could. But you said the dog was dirty. I guess I shouldn't touch it."
"ALLEN LIBERTY JONES! YOU GET THIS MONSTER OFF ME THIS INSTANT!"
Allen smirked at his yelling. It sounded shrill and panicked. He enjoyed having this power over his brother. Tapping his index finger to his chin, he thought.
"Hmm... If you allow me to keep it, I'll help."
"WHAT?! I thought you were gonna rehome it"
Allen explained that had been his original plan, but he just got too attached. How could he ever part with such a sweet doggy. After all Oliver and the big guy were getting along very well.
Oliver's eyes widened before narrowing into slits. Without turning his head toward Allen, Oliver attempted to spit curses at him. But before a full sentence was out, the dog growled louder and snapped its jaws.
"Alright! Fine, you can keep the horrid beast."
With a grin Allen stood and whistled. There was no hesitance from the dog as it stopped growling and walked to its new master. This behavior caused Allen to smile. What else could he have this dog do?
With a quick thanks to Oliver, Allen took the beast up to his room. Even in the dark of the room, Allen and the dog walked calmly into his black stone bathroom and started the cleaning process. 
It was no easy feat, but as he washed that dog he finally checked the gender. 
A male.
That means his scary dog privileges just went up even more. With a chuckle he leaned back and looked at the damp animal. With its eyes covered it kinda reminded Allen of a small bear and the growling from early helped set the image.
"I'm gonna call you Makwa. My bear."
Allen smiled and the dog gave a happy bark. This was going to be a great friendship.
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barney-james · 4 years
Text
Caught Solo || Bucky Barnes x Reader SMUT
 Requested: - {anon} please do more buck smut!! - {anon} Hi can you do another Bucky Barnes smut , with a daddy kink choking, spanking, dirty talk, breeding kink, and maybe You can start off by the reader catching him masterbating  plzz (Srry I’m a whore)
Warngings: masturbating, daddy kink, choking, spanking, dirty talk, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up ladies & gents), oral sex (male receiving), super fluffy ending
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You shoes echo on the tile in the empty hallway as you make your way towards the conference room where FRIDAY had called you to. You clutch your tablet to your chest, thinking why you’re being called. You checked the log and there weren’t any new missions, and you had completed all your reports. You push open the glass door carefully and see Steve sitting in a lounge chair by the window. Other than Steve, no one else is in the room. It seems as though he didn’t hear you come in, or hear the door close behind you. Confused, you walk around the conference table. You can hear your shoes on the floor still, so how has he not noticed your presence? 
“Steve?” you say softly. 
He jumps, startled slightly, and turns in the chair to look at you. 
“Did you call me? Are you okay?” you question.
“Oh - yeah. I’m fine.” He sighs. “Just kinda distracted, trying to keep up.”
You give him a sympathetic smile and lean against the arm rest of the chair opposite him.
“Anyways,” he says and turns his body in the chair so he’s facing you. “We’ve called Bucky like 10 times, but he isn’t responding. He has an old mission report that he hasn’t done. Will you please coax him into it?”
“Coax him?” you laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”
You push yourself from the chair and walk back down the hall and around several corners until you reach your boyfriends room, assuming that’s where he’d be if he’s not responding to FRIDAY. Saying you’re overly comfortable around him would be an understatement. Bucky is your best friend and your lover. He knows you better than anyone, and you’d like to think you know him like that. 
You grab the door handle and push open the door, about to speak when you see the sight in front of you. Bucky freezes, his hand still wrapped around himself as he looks at the intruder surprised, but he relaxes and continues his movements when he sees it’s just you.
“Buck, are you masturbating?” you kind of chuckle, rolling your eyes at him as you put your tablet down on the table by the door. 
“Like what you see, doll?” he smirks at you from his spot on the bed.
You give him a stern look and cross your arms as if to tell him he’s unbelievable. But you can’t deny the small pool forming in between your legs as you watch him work himself, completely exposed to you. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” he pouts, running his hand over his tip like you know he likes. 
You sigh and fake pout back at him. “Want some help?”
“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?” he asks, sitting up on one of his elbows to look at you. 
You bring your hand to your chin and scrunch your nose as if you’re thinking about it, still standing in his doorway. Bucky growls quietly as he pushes himself off of the bed and onto you, his hands immediately finding your plump ass after closing the door behind you, his lips attack yours needily. You wrap your arms around his neck and run your fingers into his hair, groaning softly at the pressure he’s kissing you with. His hands slide up to your waist as he guides you over to the bed, his lips never leaving yours. 
He pulls away when he feels your body pushed up against the bed, his eyes full of lust and hunger. His hands slide under your fitted t-shirt and grasp at your breasts underneath as he breathes hot air against your ear, the pool in your panties growing. His hands move down again, only to take hold of the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. He plants a soft bite on both of your breasts as his hands find the waist band of your leggings, fingers slipping under it and pushing the clothes down to your ankles. He gently taps your calf and you step out of the mess of leggings beneath you, and he discards them somewhere as he had done with your shirt. 
His hands firmly push your shoulders and you fall back onto the bed. He spreads your legs with one hand so he can stand between them while the other caresses your stomach. Bucky leans down and places a soft kiss on the side of your mouth and trails his lips down your jaw, making their way down your neck to your sweet spot he knows all too well, and he sucks there for a moment before continuing down to your collar bones, across your chest, and further to the soft skin of your belly. He places feather light kisses on your skin and his hands run up your torso, grazing your sides before landing to rest on your breasts. 
“Bucky,” you whimper, and his response is not so expected. 
His grasp on your boobs tightens, almost painfully as he squeezes them, and he bites into the soft flesh he had just been gently loving. “What was that, doll?”
You whimper but say nothing.
He grabs your chest harder and looks up at you. “What’re you supposed to call me, baby girl?” he encourages you, kissing back up to the valley between your covered breasts.
“Daddy,” you correct yourself in a breathless voice. 
He hums, pleased with your response, and stands up from the bed, dragging you with him by your arm. You’re lifted from your spot on the bed, and before you can protest, Bucky has turned you both around and laid back on the bed, waiting for you, all of his glory on full display. You know what he wants, and oblige to his silent demands as you straddle his waist, sitting on top of him. As your clothed core comes down on his bare member, you move you hips backwards and grind up against him, but still barely touching him, your panties only grazing his rock hard cock. 
His hands slide up your thighs, bringing you hips down fully onto him when they land on your waist. He moves his hands higher still until he reaches your breasts again, gives them a more gentle squeeze than before then wraps around your back, easily unclasping your bra. You slide the lacy material down your arms and grind your wet panties against him more as you lean down, his hands finding the bed sheets to fiddle with. You almost connect your lips to his, but just when they graze and he opens his mouth for a full kiss, you move your lips away and down his jaw, then his neck, letting your teeth graze his sensitive spot before placing a wet open mouth kiss on it and moving on. You kiss along the scared flesh where his metal arm meets his chest. Usually he’d protest, being self conscious about the raised skin, but you look up at him through your lashes with eyes full of nothing but love for the man laying before you. His metal hand leaves the spot by his side and snakes its way into your hair softly. You could marvel for days about how you love his left hand. While it is totally bad-ass and can stop bullets, throw people through walls, and so on, it can be so delicate and soft. It fills you with hope knowing that he can feel things normally through his prosthetic, like he does now, softly stroking your hair down as the lust leaves his eyes for a moment and he looks at you lovingly. 
You continue kissing down his side and over his hips, your lips now ghosting the throbbing tip of his cock, red, swollen, and dripping pre-cum. Continuing to skin your lips down his cock, when you get to the base, you flatten your tongue against the thick vein on his underside and slowly drag it up his length until you reach the tip again, going even slower as you approach his leaking slit. You lightly flick your tongue over him a few times before wrapping your lips around his head and sucking subtly.
Bucky throws his head back and groans, his grip on your hair tightening and making you groan against him, and the vibrations make his hips thrust towards you, but you pull back with a smirk on your face.
“You taste like fucking candy, Daddy,” you giggle innocently up at him. 
“Stop teasing me so much,” Bucky demanded. 
“If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning?” you look up at him seriously, still an innocent softness in your voice as you lightly pressed your tongue down on him again.
“Shut up,” he said, his teeth clenched, throwing his head back again.
You giggle, getting an evil idea. “Make me,” you murmur against him. 
His head pops up as he stairs down at you, the lust and hunger returning to his eyes. “What did you just say?”
“Make,” you say sternly, licking up his length again. “Me.”
He sits up, his grip on your hair tightening and he pulls your head back to make you look up at him from your spot kneeling on the ground. “If you insist, doll,”he growls in your ear. “But you should know, you can’t tease me like that and expect not to be punished.” At those words, your belly becomes a little warmer as you grow more excited. His metal hand leaves your hair and wraps around your throat. “I warned you.” he growls again, pressing his rock-hard cock into your ass-cheeks, then pushes you face down on the bed, holding you down to the mattress with only a hand on your back.
You can’t see what he’s doing, you can only vaguely see his form in your peripheral, but you jerk forwards at a sudden slap to your rear, a lovely stinging sensation filling your lower region. You gave a small excited yelp.
“Hmm, you know you like it, baby girl,” he murmurs enticingly, giving a small sound of approval. “Count for me, doll. Ten each.” 
“Yes, daddy,” you complied, and counted for each slap he landed on either cheek, giving a sweet whine at every impact.
Once you had counted to ten twice, and your ass was tomato red, Bucky rubbed his hands softly over your cheeks, and then moved them slowly between your thighs. He runs a thumb through your dripping folds and gives a dark chuckle. 
He hums to himself. “I love the effect I have I on you, baby doll,” he says, bending down and placing feather light kisses up your back. When his lips reach and graze the shell of your ear, he growls. “All for me, right?”
At a loss for words, all you can do is whimper, but for him that’s not enough. He removes his hand from your cunt, causing you to only whimper more. 
“Yes, Daddy,” you whine. “All for you. Just you. Always.” You push your hips back against him, trying to get him to touch your aching core even the slightest more. “Please, Buck. Please.”
You feel his body warmth leave you as he stands up, then a hand grabs your waist and flips you over, so your laying on your back. You look up at your boyfriend who’s smirking down at you, eyes full of lust and adoration. He balances himself above you with his knee pushed into the mattress, also effectively keeping your legs apart. He holds his rock-hard cock, sliding it between your folds to prepare himself. 
“Bucky, please,” you whine, looking at him with a pleading expression. His expression sterns as he stares at you. He presses himself into you the tinniest bit, not really going in, but enough to drive you crazy. His left hand finds your neck again, squeezing enough to let you breath but still put a delicious amount of pressure on you. You moan more, and he can feel your vocal vibrations from within your throat. “Daddy, please. I need you, so bad.”
He hums, pleased, and without warning, thrusts his thick, throbbing cock balls deep, making your moans go up in pitch and volume. Your moans mix with the melodic sound of his deep groans as he relishes the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around him. He can feel your rapid heartbeat through your cunt, and he gloats to himself. He’s the one that did that to you. Him.
“Move, Buck,” you continue to beg through gasping moans. “Please, Daddy.”
Bucky pulls out so far that his tip is barely even left inside you, and he pounds back into you. It feels amazing for him, as it always does, but he knows your body so well that he knows the current angle won’t do the most for you, won’t hit the perfect spot well enough. He grabs under your left knee and hikes your leg up over his shoulder, leaning down over your body and starts to pound into you at the new angle, satisfied with your reaction. Your moans become uncontrollable, almost screams, and every time he hits the spot, your walls contract around him. 
Ironically, your sinful moans sound angelic to him, the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, that he could listen to for the rest of his life. “Fuck, doll,” he moans. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock. Your perfect pussy was made for me. You were made for me.” He pants, catching his breath to urge you farther with his word, though he can feel that you won’t meed much coaxing. “You like it? Hmm? You like taking my cock deep? You like it when I tear you up, baby girl, like you were made for it?”
Pleasure, leaving you further speechless, you try to speak, but the only thing leaving your lips is a moan from the back of your throat. Unsatisfied with your response, his metal fingers wrap around your throat tighter. 
“Yes, Daddy,” you gasp out. “I like it. I love it. Fuck, Bucky, I love you.” your head is thrown so far back against the bad, your neck strains. The warm tingling begins to form in your gut from the intense pleasure Bucky delivers to you. 
“Oh, Y/n,” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasure. “I love you, more, baby. Don’t cum yet,” he instructs. “Wait for me. Oh, fuck. You’re so perfect. Every way.” He moans out, a sound you love more than words can express. His true voice in this vulnerable and intimate bare moment let out gives you more than just sexual pleasure. It pleases your soul, knowing he trusts you, and he really loves you. And it pleases your pride a little knowing that you have that effect on him. Your cheeks heat in a prominent blush as your heart overloads on his love.
He opens his eyes and looks at your beautiful, blissful face. He lets go of your throat, his cold hand moving up to gently cup your cheek in his hand. You instinctively lean into his touch, letting out a soft moan. “Look at me, baby. I want you to look at me as you cum,” he instructs.
Your eyes flutter open, locking with his. The lust in his eyes completely washed away, now only left with complete love and passion. 
“I want to cum in you so bad,” he breaths, still staring into your eyes.
“Do it,” you urge him. “Cum in me, Daddy.”
“Ugh, I’m gonna fill you with my cum, huh? Bury myself in you and give you a baby.”
“Cum in me, Buck, please. I love you, so much, please.”
You can tell he’s close to his climax when you feel his tip twitching inside you, but as he also takes notice to his approaching orgasm, he starts to hesitate, and almost pulls out of you.
You wrap your free leg around his waist, pulling his hips back into you. “Don’t you dare pull out, Buck. Cum in me, please. Cum in me, Bucky.”
“I’m gonna cum in you, oh fuck,” he moans, his head dropping at the immense pleasure. “Cum, baby, cum with me. Now.”
You let your orgasm finally rip though your body, your legs trembling as you moan so loud you’re almost screaming. Bucky silences you, taking your lips in a passionate kiss and dropping your leg off his shoulder. His hips jut forward, burying himself balls-deep in your pulsing hole, and stills other than the few small involuntary thrusts as he tries to get deeper. His hot seed paints your walls in long ropes as you whimper and moan against each other.
He thrusts a couple more times, ridding out your orgasms and resting his forehead against yours as you both catch your breath. He kisses your nose and lazily pulls his slowly softening length out of you. You let out one last tiny whimper as his warmth leaves you feeling empty. He sits back on his knees, taking in your sweating post-coital beauty. You can feel his cum starting to drip out of you, but you don’t say anything, knowing by the surprised smirk playing across his lips that he’s already noticed.
“Fuck, baby,” he says, using his right hand and fingers to push it back into you. “Gotta keep that in there.” His fingers linger over your sensitive clit a moment, and you jolt at the slightest pressure. He chuckles, both at your sensitive reaction and his own comment. He presses your his lips to yours softly, lovingly in one last kiss. When he pulls back and looks at you with all the love in the world, he brings his fingers to your mouth. You gladly part your lips and take his fingers in, sensually sucking the mixture of you both off of them. He groans and leans against the pillows, dragging you with him and holding you in his arms safely, kissing your hair.
You wrap your arms around your boyfriend as you lay against his chest. You giggle to yourself slightly in realization. 
“What?” he asks you with a smile. 
“I came to tell you that you have a report to do, Steve asked me to tell you because you weren’t responding. But I see now, you were quite busy.” You press soft open mouth kisses to his sweaty bare chest.
A chuckle shakes his chest as he shrugs off his responsibility. 
“Buck?” you inquire, resting your chin on his chest. 
“Hmm?” he hums lazily in his post orgasm sleepiness. 
“You never told me you wanted a kid,” you say softly.
When he doesn’t respond, you panic slightly. 
“Unless it was just a kink thing, that’s fine.”
He sits up, bringing you with him and cups your cheeks in his hands, looking deep into your eyes. You bite your bottom lip as you wait for him to speak. 
“You are the most perfect woman I have ever met. I love you so damn much. I want everything with you. You make me happier than I have been in a long time. I’m keeping that as long as I can. My heart already bursts with love for you, but if I saw a little you or me running around, my heart would bursts so much I die. But in a good way. You know I’m not great at words, Y/n. That’s why I hadn’t said anything. And even now I can’t seem to speak properly. I’m just trying to say I want everything with you, as long as you want it, too. You make me so happy, I’m fine with however you want.”
A tiny tear slips down your cheek. You chuckle at his inability to come across, but you know him well enough to know what he’s saying. 
“I love you so much, baby,” he says.
“I love you, Buck.” you connect your lips to his softly tasting your salty happy tears. “Let’s have a baby,” you giggle against his lips.
----
I’m dead.
707 notes · View notes
willadisastercry · 3 years
Text
Slow and steady... breathe.
tw: severe blood loss, needles, self surgery, loss of conciousness.
Lance wasn’t particularly aversed to needles, he just didn’t want to have to willingly stab himself with one, ya know? Everyone is distraught once they realize Lance is hurt and that they can’t be there to help him because they’re in the middle of nowhere and can’t leave their lions, so talking him through stitching himself back together is the best solution they have. If only Lance can stay awake long enough to fix himself up so he makes the journey.
“Is everyone alright?”
Keith’s voice jolted Lance from his slumped position after his body had gone lax with exhaustion and his mind wondered off. He almost didn’t catch Keith’s question with how intently he was staring at the floor in front of his pilot chair where a sizable puddle was beginning to form.
“Didn’t really account for having to bail so soon without checking in and we have a long way to go before he get back to where Coran had to move the castle...”
He wondered vaguely what he could’ve possibly spilled as he shrugged off the weariness from the battle they had just narrowly escaped. They were all spent after things went pear shaped and had to evade the hail of fire from galra blasters all the way up to their lion’s ramps.
Everyone ushered their respective ‘yes’s though, even Lance, but Keith decided to do a sound off for damage control anyway since they had a bit of a journey before they made it back to the castleship.
“Pidge? Did your shield hold up?”
Shield. Hmm. Lance knit his brows together as he forced his brain to work through the fog that addled it.
“Yeah, it did. I’m not hurt.”
Unlike Pidge, Lance wasn’t as lucky and his had cracked almost immediately in his one on one with the galra soldier that had discovered him. He’d taken post in a makeshift sniper hole between some storage crates to cover his team as they made their eacape.
“Good, how about you, Hunk?”
Lance wondered what else he was forgetting about the battle they’d just fought, maybe that’s why he felt so strange and out of it, why his mind was so slow.
What the fuck happened back there?
“—saw you take a few hits in close combat at the end there, you alright?”
Lance’s heart fluttered sadly as he recalled how he had been lining up a shot for the soldier that was advancing on Hunk when he’d been caught.
His scope had just zeroed in on the soldier when one that Lance wasn’t aware of made his own surprise attack, clutching the armor around his ankles so painfully that he was afraid it’d crack before yanking him backwards and away from his position.
He had cried out more at fact that he hadn’t gotten the shot in because that meant that Hunk would have to fight and he hated fighting. The guy was a goddamned pacifist in the middle of an intergalactic war, but his build made him look like a formidable threat and attracted unwanted attention during battle all the time.
Lance just wanted to spare his friend from having to engage in the thing he hated so much. But he couldn’t. He’d failed.
“I’m dandy, nothing more than a couple of bruises Coran’s special cream can fix.”
Those bruises were Lance’s fault. He had failed to protect him from that soldier, to protect him from having to do the thing he hated. It took all of him to stifle the broken sound that erupted in his throat as his stomach clenched with guilt.
“Okay, let me know if anything changes.”
Lance breathed shakily as he blinked back tears, but even when he wiped the wetness under his eyes they remained blurry, unfocused.
“Allura? You were with me but you had the quintessence—”
That’s what this entire mission was about...
Stealing a powerful vat of quitessence Pidge had been keeping tabs on with intel she’d stolen from a galra battleship en route to occupy a peaceful planet in the nearby solar system. Shiro wanted them to intercept the delivery so that there would be less catastrophe when they formed Voltron to defend the planet.
It was more than vital that they succeeded and Lance was determined, ready to do whatever he could to prove himself as a sharpshooter and make sure they secured what they were after.
“You can be at ease that I am uninjured and the quintessence is in tact.”
This bit of information did little to ease the rapidly increasing feeling of wrong that was consuming him. They had succeeded and he had done his job relatively well aside for one mistake, but that mistake had gotten Hunk hurt, and he was having a hard time reconciling that to make the success feel like a victory.
He was also having a hard time staying focused on Keith as he spoke with each of them, all of their voices as they recounted the battle muddling together, lost behind the ear piercing ringing that only he seemed to be affected by.
His breathing picked up and he was vaguely aware that he had started sweating, realizing he’d zoned out again just in time for his turn to check in with Keith.
“Great, and Lance? I know you were in a bit of a scuffle, are you all good?”
Five minutes ago he would have answered with a resounding yes, but as soon as he’d sat down in Blue the pump of adrenaline through his body slowed and the weariness had dripped away bit by bit to reveal that he actually felt incredibly weird. Of which was doubly confirmed with the near constant waves of concern Blue was sending him.
“Uhhm,” Lance paused, his mind blank.
For the first time in literally ever he had no idea what to say. His mind was in a thick haze as his body continued to try and come down from the massive high of combat and so he found he couldn’t really grasp what the strange feeling was exactly.
“I... I think I took a couple of direct blows after my shield... maybe my head because I sort of feel... I don’t know actually, just-just weird I guess...”
“Wait, your shield crapped out while you were fighting that soldier?”
Lance was slower to respond this time.
“Yeah, it cracked, my shield...” his words came out between increasingly ragged breaths.
“Well, that’s not promising. What do you mean by weird, do you think you might have a concussion?”
“Concussion...” he mused aloud, not really understanding why that was a concern before he reminded himself that he was fully missing a few key events from the end of the mission. He was faintly aware of worried fussing from Hunk and Allura as he racked his brain.
“Pidge, can you pull up a full visual of Lance?”
“On it!”
“...I don’t think I hit my head though. I mean, yeah, I guess I do feel a little dizzy maybe... and lightheaded... everything looks kinda strange too,” Lance rattled off as he took in his surroundings.
The lights of the panels and screens in front of him blurred and stretched if he moved his eyes too fast, so he tried to keep still and focus on just Keith’s face for now. It was pinched with concern but his voice divulged nothing but calm.
He could feel Blue nudging him, clearly worried over something because she had been withholding control of the steering for a while and was doing most of the piloting then.
“Easy girl, I’m alright,” Lance whispered.
He was becoming more lightheaded by the minute and his movements were now so sluggish he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to steer straight much longer anyway.
“Full screen visual should be popping up—
“Oh, crap!”
“Lance, what the hell?”
“Lance?” Keith’s voice was steady, breaking through the sea of concerned remarks pointedly.
For everyone else the entire view of Lance’s cockpit was now visible and so was the red that painted the front of his armor and much of the floor.
“Lance... do you know how long you’ve been bleeding?”
“Huh? I’m not-I didn’t get... wait, what do you—woah,” Lance had looked down to examine himself, certain there would be nothing.
But there was. And he was really confused because he hadn’t felt a thing but the sheet of red cascading down his armor from his side said otherwise.
He swallowed thickly, head swimming from the angle as he peered down at the grizzly sight. With the threat of passing out now a very real possibility, he brought his head back up to rest against the back of the chair and looked elsewhere as he fought the blood rush that threatened his ability to remain conscious. Something about seeing that much of his own blood was making him sick to his stomach.
“-nce! Lance, focus! Good, okay, so did the soldier have a sword or a blaster?”
He knit his brows together as he thought back on it. He remembers glinting metal that swooped down on him in short, swift arcs. The solider had a very long and very serrated knife, not a blaster. He didn’t even have enough time to transform his bayard before the soldier descended on him, his shield not lasting more than four hits before it shattered.
“A knife, he-he had a knife...”
He tried to ignore the resurgence of worried questions from his friends.
“Okay, can’t be that bad if you didn’t even notice, right?” Keith tried to put him at ease but it wasn’t really working.
He hadn’t noticed when it happened because he was quite literally battling for his life, losing a significant amount of blood in the time that had passed since then. And that scared him.
Because he wasn’t phsyically with the others, he was bleeding out and basically alone.
He was going to die... and his friends would get to watch.
“Lance, stop worrying and just focus on me okay?”
“R-right, sure. Um, what-what do I do though? We can’t just pull over... we’re in the middle of nowhere in outer space and the castle is too far... what if—I don’t want t—I can’t-can’t—“
“Lance! What did I just say? Stop worrying and listen to me!”
He dragged his eyes from the hole they were burning into Blue’s dashboard to meet Keith’s purple saucers.
“You’re okay. You’ve got a med kit in the cargo hold and we can talk you through how to patch yourself up, yeah? You’ll be fine.”
“Fine. Right, I-I’ll be fine.”
“Do you think you can stand? The med kit is on the wall behind you.”
“I can try...”
Lance scooted to the edge of the pilot chair and braced himself before rising onto his legs.
“Shit...”
The world spun before him as the new orientation produced another swell of blood from the comprised bit of his armor where he’d been... he didn’t even know what he’d been yet but he knew it wasn’t good.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, blinking away the static before starting for the back of the cockpit, using the wall to keep himself upright.
“Kit’s on the left.”
Walking felt weird. His legs were weak and didn’t seem to ever go where he intended, but they held his weight even when he’d acquired the bulky med kit and had use a bit more effort to lug it back to his pilot chair.
His friends were in the middle of a discussion Lance hadn’t heard and continued when he returned. He had to set the kit down before maneuvering carefully around the puddle to get himself seated in his chair.
He began tugging off the top half of his armor, starting with the gloves and elbow guards which came off painlessly. It was only when he moved to the top most pieces that he ran in to some issues. He inhaled sharply when tugging on his right shoulder guard pulled at whatever was waiting beneath his armor on his side.
“Hey hermano, just breathe, you’ve got it,” Hunk offered when Lance stopped.
He nodded and took another deep breath before continuing.
The left shoulder guard came off with little incident when he approached it with more caution, but now came the chest piece. He separated the clasps at the bottom and sides before leaning forward to slide the back piece out, the front piece falling away when he leaned back in his chair.
He gasped and was sure that his friends had too when they saw the gash in his side. It was long and wide, deepest towards his back and tapering off on his stomach just above his belly button.
Lance remembered it now. Once the shield finally shattered, he threw his hands over his head and rolled out from under a hit that would have killed him.
The soldier seethed at the evasion and launched at Lance again, giving him barely enough time to deploy his bayard before he was on him. Twisting around was all he could do to get more distance between them so he could take his shot, but he wasn’t quick enough. He caught the impending strike in his side anyway, the blade cutting into him due to his own momentum even after the soldier had stopped swinging and fell to his knees lifelessly.
He thought his armor had held, not aware of the splintering crack where the blade broke through the joint at the midsection.
“Okay, okay, hey! You’re still okay! You’re going to fix it and we’ll walk you through it, yeah?”
He nodded. The air in Blue seemed to be warmer than usual but it didn’t stop him from shivering now that his armor was off. All of the heat in his body seemed to be drawn to the hole in his side.
“Pidge, do you think—“
“Yeah, I’ve already patched Coran in and he’s got a whole set of medical diagrams pulled up... okay Lance, you ready?”
He attempted a ‘yes’ but his mouth was so dry he wasn’t sure he could separate his lips to speak so he hummed instead, his eyes wide and searching as he combed over the contents in the open kit below him despite the mounting pressure behind his eyes that made keeping them open a challenge.
“There’s a vial of yellow liquid and a syringe, grab those... also the sheers because you’ll need to cut away what’s left of the suit around the wound.”
He grumbled at the thought of stabbing himself with a needle but seemed to shift into a sort of auto pilot after that, moving methodically and ignoring the agony of the pulsing wound on his side now that he was aware of it.
His face paled visibly once he held the syringe up in front of him. The needle was big and the liquid in the vial looked like acid than it did medicine.
It was Allura interrupting his inner turmoil this time, her voice full of fear but sure.
“Lance, you can do this. It will hurt, but you will be grateful once you’ve administered it, trust me.”
“Whatever you say, princess...” he smirked meekly and Allura almost laughed.
Once he’d cut away a haphazard square from the material left around the entirety of his wound, Pidge explained how much of the liquid to pull into the vial and how much he should inject each time and where.
He figured he’d need to get a move on with all of this from the way that everything seemed to be spinning and steeled himself for the first of numbing injections. It was to go right above his hip below the deepest part of the wound.
“Breathe...”
He waited for an inhale and went for it before he could panic.
“Shiiiit!”
Turns out the needle going in wasn’t what he should’ve been wary of because the altean medicine burned. He squirmed and cursed as he pushed in the allotted dose, practically seeing stars at the thought of administering five more of them.
“Relax buddy, you can do it.”
He pushed the next shot in quickly, starting with another before his body could protest and did that with the rest of them all in quick succession, not letting himself focus on the seering fire until he was done. Throwing his head back and doing his best to keep from writhing as much so he didn’t make the wound worse.
“Gah! Fuck, fuck, what the fuck is wrong with altean pain medicine?! Hurts-hurts more than the freaking knife wound—“
“Shut up, you’re okay. You won’t feel anything soon. Hard parts over, but now you gotta relax, freaking out on us is only gonna make things worse.”
Keith’s stupid for being right, but he is.
Don’t freak out. You can do this... you have to do this.
“Okay,” he huffed, “no freaking out.”
His voice was trembling almost as much as his hands as he let the empty syringe fall mindlessly to join the puddle of his own blood on the ground.
The pain in his side was diminishing now, the burning of the numbing medicine becoming a cool sting and then smoothing out into a hollow warmth. He tested the skin around it with his finger and couldn’t feel a thing, perfect.
“What’s next?”
“Ha,” Pidge laughed grimly, “now you have to put your money where your mouth is and thread an actual needle.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that too, the movement made something around the wound on his side twinge but he couldn’t really tell where or why with how numb it was now, which was probably a good thing.
“The pack of needles is in the sleeve... look for one that’s curved... size 3–yeah, that’s it. There is a clamp to guide the needle and a tweezer type tool to help tie it off, grab those. Now you need a couple packs of gauze and tape... the spool of polyester blend thread—wait how do atleans also have polyester? Right, focusing now, sorry! Okay, next is the antiseptic... yeah it’ll probably hurt but you’re not croaking over galra germs if we can help it... sorry Keith, you definitely don’t have galra germs.”
Keith just pinched the bridge of his nose but Hunk seemed to be amused by it, his light chuckle taking the edge off the intense worry written all over his face.
“We sure one of you can’t just do a little space walk over here?” Lance asked as he held up the bottle of antiseptic, “seriously don’t know how the mullet isn’t jumping at the opportunity to torture me, like come onnnnn! I know you’d enjoy it!”
“Shut up and listen to Pidge, the castle is still really far and Coran hasn’t been able to triangulate our location yet, so we’ve gotta keep moving.”
He grumbled pitifully but looked to Pidge’s face on the dashboard in front of him.
“You ever threaded a needle before? The sewing kind not the almost killing your friends trying to show off your piloting skills kind.”
“Ha-ha and no, but i’ve seen my máma do it... something like this I think... hey, I got it!”
“Damn, he really can thread the needle.”
“Thank you Hunk! Finally some recog—“
“Both of you be quiet. Lance, listen to me very carefully because now you have to stab yourself with it. Lock the clamp at the end of needle, you’ll hear a click. You won’t feel it when you start stabbing—stitching, probably just the motion, but you’re still bleeding so you’ve gotta hurry.”
Lance was well aware that he was still bleeding. His body wouldn’t let him forget. The color had all but left his face and he was drenched in sweat. And he seemed to shake steadily now no matter what he did to try and calm down, no doubt a side affect of half of his blood being beneath him instead of inside him. But he ignored it all and put his remaining energy into listening to Pidge.
“Start at the back where it’s deepest and hold the skin together... yep, good now bring the tip of the needle just below—left more, perfect. Coran says to angle it in the direction you want it to come out the other side... go as deep as halfway down the wound and don’t push too far in on the other side where it’s coming out... kay, now push it in, shit. Lance! LANCE!”
As soon as he had the needle situated as deep as it needed to go he lost the battle with how lightheaded he’d become. It had him slow and sluggish before but was now severely impeding his ability to remain conscious for his self surgery.
It wasn’t so much as the actual piercing his own skin that culminated with everything else for him to faint. More of the way he could feel it moving inside of him, like he could feel that the metal was cold by how it stood out against the heat of the wound, just not the actual cold of it or the pain part.
He didn’t know how long he’d been out when the voices of his teammates registered in his head again. They seemed worried, some of them distraught. Like Hunk, he was really scared about something, sounded a little mad the harder he listened.
“...if he doesn’t come around soon I’m going over there—no, I don’t care!”
“Just give him a minute!”
“Wait guys he’s moving.”
“Lance can you hear us?”
“Lance!”
Everything seemed so loud but muddled and indistinct all at the same time.
“Ugh, stop screaming...” he slurred, his head still hurt and he felt even lighter than he had before.
“Open you eyes, bud. You’re almost done, come on,” Keith urged.
Almost done his ass, he’d passed out just after getting the needle in, not even finishing the first stitch. This was going to be hell.
“The needle stayed in, you just have to get it through the other side and tie it off. Coran says you can space them out and skip a few, you just need to get it closed to staunch the flow.”
He hummed again and pried his eyes open wide to blink around wildly before he tried to sit up. But his limbs were so heavy even lifting his arm was hard, so he stayed where he’d slumped down, shoving his legs out farther to get his middle straight.
“J-just through the other side?”
“Yes, where you have it now is fine... just like pinch the skin and coax it through and don’t stab your finger like your about to, you’ll feel that!”
He wanted to laugh, he really did. Because this was so ridiculous. It was probably the dangerous amount of blood he’d already lost but he just found this so amusing.
Having to stitch a knife wound up while a lion flew him back to a castle that wasn’t really a castle—in space! All in space!
He wondered what he would’ve been doing back home if he weren’t here right now, probably nothing nearly as ridiculous.
“Lance, stay with us,” Hunk’s low voice pulled him from his mental tangent.
He rubbed his eye with the back of the hand holding the tweezer, it was covered in blood.
“You’ve got to tie it off now, so pull the thread through until just a little is left, like an inch—stop! Now unlock the clamp and grab that last inch, wrap the end with the needle around a couple of times, not tightly. Release the lock on the clamps but keep a hold of the end of the thread, grab where it comes out the other side and pull through then pull tight and cut, good, done!”
He took in mouthfuls of air like he’d just finished a race.
Shit, he could cry. This was hard and he just wanted to close his eyes and forget about everything. It didn’t hurt anymore. But he just wanted to be asleep and not have to focus so hard on stitching his own wound closed while his friends tried to make him feel better.
Because they couldn’t. Because this sucked and they couldn’t help him.
“You’re doing amazing Lance,” the princess remedied, her voice firm but soft all the same.
His heart felt warm with that, it was something he could hear his máma saying.
“Few more and then you can rest, bud.”
“Y-yeah, okay...”
It got increasingly difficult to keep his hand steady and after the fourth stitch he’d sort of gave up on trying. He resolved to do them quickly like the injections once he’d gotten the hang of it. But his energy was leaving him faster than he could stitch.
And then his heavy breaths and shaking hands made it hard for him to hold the skin together long enough to get the needle through, so eventually he resorted to holding his breath and stabbing wildly.
His friends grimaced every time he did that. They all felt horrible that they couldn’t be there to physically help him but also knew they needed to get to the castle as quickly as possibly.
So Pidge continued to guide him through each stitch and everyone else praised and encouraged him each time he finished one. Their voices pulling him back when he’d drift off into the pull of darkness that continued to tease and toy with him.
“-ng so good.”
“Keep going, bud.”
“-re so strong, Lance.”
“Only a few left... Coran says it looks good.”
He coughed on the dryness that had made its way down his throat and almost into his lungs with how tired every part of him was. Breathing hurt because he had absolutely nothing left on his body that didn’t, made so much worse with the strain of having to withhold air so he could get the needle though.
The wound was practically closed now and not bleeding much through the gaps where he’d forgone some stitches. He was at the part where it tapered. Pidge said it looked like one more would do and so he held his breath and shoved, whining when he poked his hand by accident, not even hearing what his friends were saying as he tied it off almost robotically, the muscle memory of having done it a dozen times now taking over as his mind remained elsewhere.
“-n you hear me?! Lance, Lance listen to me! You’re almost done, don’t go just yet.”
He forced his lidded eyes to look at Pidge, he could barely make out her face with how blurry everything had gotten.
“Open the gauze pads and place them over the wound... tape the bottom and only the bottom down completely then rip off a long enough piece for the top and sides... pour the antiseptic onto another piece of gauze, dab it over the wound, and press it all down before you pass out... got that?”
He huffed wearily and thought he did something of a nod, but it probably didn’t look like it because Pidge asked if he’d heard her again. He had. He was just done. He tore the gauze pads free form their packages and placed them over the wound before taping them down.
None of it looked pretty. Not the sutures, not the bandaging, none of it. But it would have to do. He opened the antiseptic and lost the cap in the process but couldn’t find it in him to care.
He looked up at the screen of worried faces in front of him.
“Go on, bud. It’ll only hurt for like a second and then you can sleep.”
“You can do it, you just stitched your skin back together, this is light work.”
“Once again, altean medicine hurts like hell, but it works. Trust me, Lance.”
Yeah. Trust the princess.
He closed his eyes and waited for it. He really wasn’t sure how anything could top the fire that was the pain medicine, but somehow the antiseptic achieved that. His vision whited and he thought he could hear himself screaming, but he felt too far away to be able to hear that.
He didn’t remember covering the wound with the gauze but apparently he’d gotten three sides stuck down before his head lolled to the side and gentle waves of assurance washed over him from Blue as everything faded to black.
He couldn’t be sure how much time had passed between then and the next time he woke up, but he didn’t have the energy to ask. He just knew that he was still in Blue from the pulse of assurances that surged back up again as soon as he came back to.
“Coran says he’s picking up Black on the radar, he’s making a worm hole now. I’m gonna fly next to Blue to be ready to grab her just in case she doesn’t get the memo...”
He must’ve groaned because someone was talking to him then.
“Oh! Not dead, that’s so good, hi Lance.”
Freaking Pidge. He might’ve laughed. He couldn’t remember.
“Hey dude... nah don’t try and move, just stay there.”
“Thanks for listening to us for once.”
“Lance, you’re so brave, you should be proud of yourself that you were able to do that.”
“Course, princess. Any-anything you say...” he smirked and tried to hold up his famous finger guns, earning some laughs from his teammates that faded quickly.
Blue was the last thing on his mind when he passed out again. She was proud of him too.
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monst · 4 years
Text
Imposter: Medbay
Tumblr media
Part 3: Medbay
An interactive bnha among us au:
Word count: 2,780
Warnings: This series contains descriptions of murder and dismemberment, Deception and morally questionable actions, Angst and betrayal. 
Tw: Death, No voting today but next update be prepared to eject someone... 
Masterlist -> Here
Taglist: @redbeanteax​ @tspice283​ @kurinhimenezu​  @simpforeveryone @ queenlibra134 @thewheezingwyvern​
      Your ass was beginning to numb, the firm material of the cot had long since become uncomfortable but there was not much else you could do but sit and observe. Amajiki was standing over various vials of russet liquid. At first you had been intrigued with the whirring of the machine watching as it prepped the blood to be analyzed, you sponged every word the doctor said finding all the little tidbits of information fascinating. 
Three hours later...well they weren’t as fascinating anymore. The mess of wires and scanners job was to speed up the process yet there had been no results and you for the umpteeth time a sigh slipped past your lips and fog happily clouded your visor. From your spot you heard the dark haired man chuckle at your expense. 
“It’ll only be a couple more hours (Name).” He informed. 
“Yay more waiting.” You deadpanned. “I dunno how you do it Tama.” 
A shrug lifted his shoulders and he carefully pulled up a vial with a pair of tongs. “I do it because I like it.” He mused as if it were obvious. “It’s akin to if I asked you why you like lasers.”
“It’s totally not the same thing.” You laughed. Amajiki was easy going if not a bit jittery, the last few hours with him taught you that although he was a bit shy he wasn’t a pushover. The proof of that lied in the empty cups of coffee you had been instructed to get him. 
“That’s...Odd.” You heard him murmur. 
“Hmm? What is?” Your legs pricked at standing up so quickly, a dull hum of electricity making them tingle and pulse. Your legs wobbled a bit as blood flowed back into them and as soon as you were able to you were quickly peering over his shoulder to see the ‘oddity’. 
“....It’s a vial of blood.” You sighed not seeing anything remotely different. 
“I thought I explained it to you?” He sighed. “When a Sticur hijacks a body it breaks it down, depending on the blood type and antigens present the deconstruction can either be quick or slow, or in the case of your blood not at all.” He relayed, holding up the sample of your blood. 
“Huh… Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You asked. 
“I’d wager it’s more of a bad thing.” He concluded. “Sure your body won’t break down but that just means the parasite has a sturdy and durable host. That and it makes it practically impossible for me to tell if your it’s current host.” 
“...So that’s why you tested my sample first?” You snorted. 
“Well if we’re going to be together for a while I need to make sure it’s not you, not that you’d give off any signs like hair whitening and the reddening of your scalera. Hmm there might be another way to tell…”
“And that way is?” You pressed, eager to show you weren’t ‘infected’ so to speak. 
You could see his eyes furrow beneath his visor, a bubbling red staining his cheeks. He turned around and opened a top cabinet and pulled out a plastic cup. 
“Ughh you’ve got to be kidding me!?” You groaned. He gave you a timid smile. “Wait I can’t leave you alone.”
“Don’t worry I’ll be fine.” He reassured, you were still hesitant but he  quickly showed you that the taser in Bakugou’s possession wasn’t the only weapon aboard. And as you walked to the cafeteria to get to the bathroom you wondered if anyone else knew that the doctor had a couple scalpels on hand…
Once in the cafeteria you beelined it towards the restroom, you hastily locked the door then began to remove the bulky suit. You had no issues with said unisex bathroom. It was a large space with a couple of stalls, sectioned off to the left were the showers. As almost everything on the vessel, it was in pristine condition but right now the clear reflective metal of the floor sent shivers down your spine. The silence in the large room was deafening and you quickly did your business, you sprang to wash your hands and shimmied the black suit on in record time. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when the vent pumping air into the space came to life, the rushing wind sound filled the room with an ominous pressure that had you sprinting out of there and rushing towards the medbay. You had just entered the hall, your eyes catching the sight of the soft blue glow of the room, just as you were about to a approach-
-Shlap-
You almost lost your footing as you reared back, the metallic door nearly swiping your face clean off. You exclaimed loudly, shock paralyzing your bones for a moment until panic began to seep into your pores. You came down on the door, your gloved fists hammering the metal. 
“Tamaki!” You called. Your mind raced, all manner of horrid happenings flashing across your brain. You had caught a glimpse of Tamaki’s back, he seemed to have been none the wiser when the door shut. And to you that could only mean one thing. 
“Fuck!” You swore, you struggled to pry the heavy doors open but only succeeded in bending your nails beneath your gloves. To make matters worse you couldn’t hear anything. The only sounds that accompanied your relentless assault on the door was the typical hum of Oxygen being pumped through filters. Dread encompassed your trembling bones, you weren’t sure if the silence of the room was more terrifying than if you would have been able to hear. 
Your cheeks were wet with tears when the door finally opened. Without a second thought you raced inside all thoughts of self-preservation abandoned as you took in the sight of the medbay. Your jaw slackened at the sight. The room was a disaster, test tubes were shattered onto the ground, their continents painting the wall like splatter art. The machine running the test was in terrible shape, a mess of stringed wires laid out of an open flap, it sickenly reminded you of intestines. 
Your eyes searched the room frantically, until you finally saw a body. You rushed over to the purple suit and hauled off the heavy slab of mattress that laid upon him. You let out a long chorus of nos as you tried to check for any signs of life. To your immense relief you couldn’t spot any lacerations. You quickly deduced that he must have lost consciousness and you hauled him over to another cot a million questions on your mind. You didn’t see anyone else in the room and you could feel the rush of adrenaline in your blood at the implication. 
You rushed towards the drawer Tamaki had shown you before you left but the scalpels were missing. With nothing to defend yourself with you proceeded to bind the doctor with makeshift binds. You had finished the last knot and almost as if on cue he began to stir. He groaned, and you could only guess at how he was feeling. He removed his helmet and sat up with a wince. He tried to move his hand to the back of his head when he noticed that his wrists were bound. 
“I don’t blame you.” He sighed. “It looks really suspicious from your end but I promise it wasn’t me.”
“...Then what...Happened?” 
“I don’t even know.” He breathed. “One moment I’m picking up Shinsou’s vial and the next the door slammed shut. Before I could even react someone pushed me and tossed one of these at me.” He recounted, fingers tapping the mattress. 
“I hit my head on the floor and everything spun for a minute. I saw a figure but everything was blurry...they were going to kill me but the door opened..The vent!” He shouted suddenly. His indigo eyes burned into your as he motioned towards the vent. “I’m positive that’s how they got away.”
“..But those vents are tiny, it’d be hard for a grown person to fit in there comfortably let alone one wearing this.” You reasoned, pinching the fabric of your suit. 
“It’s probably messing with its host’s skeletal structure.” Tamaki mused. “This could really help us figure out who it is.”
He motioned for you to undo his bindings and you decided to take that gamble and trust him. “The equipment’s wrecked.” He huffed. 
“So how are we going to figure it out if it’s broken?” You asked. 
“Two ways, the easy and dangerous way is to look for common signs, odd skeletal protrusions and unnatural movement included since they literally slid through a vent.”
“And the other?” You pressed. 
“The hard and fast way, we fix the machine and get more samples.” He summarized. “Luckily we have the necessary items to fix it in the storage area, we’ll grab the items and then come back. Hopefully by the time we come back the others will be taking a break in the cafeteria. We’ll tell them about the venting and grab more samples but for now.” He stood up with a wobbly and motioned you over. You didn’t hesitate in grabbing the heavy table, helping him slide it a top the vent. 
.
.
.
.
You both decided to walk through the cafeteira and head straight down as opposed to going the long way. To your annoyance the storage room was dimly lit. 
“You’d think that the Captain would have all the lights on at full power.” You huffed. 
“If he did that than other areas that are more important would get less energy.” Tamaki answered as he continued to souffle through boxes. 
“But still we're kinda in a situation where maybe having everything bright will help us see better….Oh I think I found it!” You chimed pointing at a thick box that laid underneath various others. 
“...Yeah that’s it alright.” The both of you set to work on freeing the box like a game of mahjong. 
“Careful.” He grunted, as he helped you lift a heavy box. 
“Hey guys what’s up?!” The box tumbled to the ground, it’s continents shattering when it kissed the floor. “Were those the backup light-bulbs?”
Your heart did a somersault when you heard a voice other than Tamaki’s, Mirio’s sudden presence spooked you, his lime green suit was hidden by tendrils of dark shadows. The glare of the low light reflected off his visor not allowing either of you to see his face. All in all he looked rather ominous and the fact that Tamaki bumped into the box behind him was proof enough that you weren’t the only one to think so. The both of you stared up at Mirio from your spot on the ground, ever so slightly you would inch back scared by his silence. 
As far as you have come to notice silence never came alone. “Ha!” He laughed, not knowing how hard that sound made you tense. “You guys should see the look on your faces.” He chuckled.  “Relax I’m not possessed by some demon alien from hell.” He continued raising his hands to show he meant no harm. 
Tamaki relaxed first, his brows furrowing, annoyed at the heart stopping scare. He made it a point to tell the gleeful blonde that his scare wasn’t appreciated. 
“Yeah now’s not the time to be playing like that.” You huffed allowing your heart rate to sink to normal. “And why are you here alone? Weren’t you paired with Bakugou?” You asked looking around for the other blonde security guard. 
“Oh yeah, I left him in the security room.” He shrugged. “We saw you guys heading down here from admin, there aren’t any cameras in here so Bakugou asked me to come down here to make sure you guys were safe.”
“But why didn’t the both of you come?” Tamaki asked. 
“Well you know how Bakugou is, He said there was something odd going on with someone, apparently they moved from room to room oddly, almost appearing out of nowhere, personally I think he’s getting paranoid so I left him checking that, that and he’s got the taser and his fists.” Mirio chuckled. 
“You know I’ve been meaning to ask about that.” You hummed. “Why is it that Bakugou has the taser and not you? Aren’t you in a higher position?” You asked. 
“Well yes I am... but he wanted it more than me, and as the bigger person I let him have it.” Mirio winked. You snorted but Mirio continued, “But in all honesty, Bakugou is someone I trust with my life so there was no reason as to why I wouldn’t have relented, he’s a hot head but he’s incredibly loyal- 
“Togata.” Tamaki interrupted, you both turned to him as he had gasped out his friends name, his face was sheet white, his pupils shrunken down to pen points. 
“You okay you don’t loo-
“I-Is there a vent in the security room?” He whispered. 
“Vent? Yeah I think there’s one. Why?”
You felt your pulse slow, time seeming to freeze as the weight of what Tamaki was implying hit you. Your head turned so quickly towards the dark-haired man that you heard the sharp pop of your neck. “Y-You mean? Oh god..”
“Hey what’s up with you two?” The both of you didn’t give Mirio another thought as you got to your feet and began to sprint down the hall. The buffy blonde quickly pursued. He shouted at Tamaki demanding why the both of you were acting so cryptic. 
“Vents! The parasite is using the vents to get around!?” Tamaki yelled back. 
“Shit.” Mirio cursed, his legs propelling him ahead of both of you, the lot of you rushed past the lower engine room and quickly turned the corner to see what you feared. 
Shindo was pounding on the metal of the door, He jumped in shock when he saw the three of you. “I don’t know what the hell is going on?!” He shouted “I was in the reactor room with Deku when he suddenly walked out, I didn’t think anything of it till I heard him scream, When I ran out to see this door was closed.” He rushed through his words panic lacing his tone. 
“Do you think he closed it?” He added.
“No, it was the imposter.” Tamaki hissed. “He can somehow close the doors.”
“Shindo do something!?” You shouted, tugging at his pink suit. Mirio was crashing against the door to no avail but you knew Shinso could open it. “Hack into the mainframe and unlock it.” 
“Oh fuck yes! Your right!” He pulled out a device from his suit and connected it to the pad on the door. “C’mon work.” He hissed. You looked down to what he was doing then up towards the door. 
“It’ll be okay. They’ll be okay. Bakugou is one hell of a fighter and Deku is nothing to sneeze at.” mirio tried to reassure. But his pacing let you know that he was worried. Your heart thumped loudly with every second that passed, the door was still locked and Shindo seemed to be sweating, tapping on the device harshly as it refused to cooperate. 
“C’mon can’t you make it open?” Tamaki mumbled. “Weren’t you bragging about being great at this.” 
“S-shut up, I’m under a lot of pressure right now and something is jammin- ah I got it!” You all breathed a sigh of relief as the door parted. You wished the door had remained shut. And you wished you could unsee what you saw. And you wished you could unhear Deku’s anguished screams as he held Bakugou’s unmoving body close..
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mythrilhusk · 3 years
Text
!!Kill Techno-sensei!! - Chapter Two
Words: 2,076 Chapter One (Last)  AO3 Version Chapter 3 (Next)
The class absorbs the threat, stunned, hushed. Quackity clenches his fists. "Why the fuck would you do that?" His defiance shatters the silence. 
"Because I can." Technoblade replies dismissively. "But I am here to teach, so please, open your textboo-"
"No." Quackity smirks, wearing a confidence he doesn't feel. "Why would you destroy the Earth? You're immortal, sure, but you seem like the kind of guy who's easily bored. What would you have left after your little temper tantrum?" 
One floppy ear flicks irritably. "You see, the idea is, I'd die as well." 
"If you want to die so fucking bad, why don't you just let us kill you, asshole?" 
"That kinda defeats the purpose of the threat. You see, you're completely correct in your assessment. I am bored." Technoblade's light yet nearly monotone voice grates on Quackity's nerves. "I'm simply too good. Unbeatable, even. I've searched and searched, but haven't found a single worthy foe." 
"So you failed!" Quackity crows, slamming his fist on the desk. Psychological warfare, baby.  
Tommy takes up the jeer as well, "You failed, big man, ho, ho!! Eat shit!"  
Technoblade scowls and buries his muzzle in the thick textbook. "Why don't we move on. Page three-hundre-" 
"Move on?? Move on?? You killed my family, Technoblade, you fucking killed them all! I can't fucking move on from that!" Quackity snarls. 
Exhaustion leaks from Technoblade's glower. "I've killed many families, Quackity. All for one goal." 
"Fuck you and your motherfucking anarchy!! You think I'm scared of you?? I- I-" The words choke in Quackity throat as Technoblade stands up. He shrinks in his seat.
"Stay away from him." Sapnap growls. 
Technoblade ignores the students completely, instead turning to the whiteboard and picking up a marker. "History is not circular." 
"What's the fucking point." Quackity grumbles under his breath. There's no winning against a man who'd have no qualms about punting him. 
"Nor is it straight." 
"Pfft, knew it. Now everyone who hates history will get cancelled for being homophobic." Tommy somehow manages to both lighten the mood and make everything worse at the same time. 
Technoblade doesn't get angry or annoyed, however. "Heh. History is pretty gay, not gonna lie. It's also-" He steps away from his crude drawing of a squiggly line, "a helix. History repeats itself in stages. Anyone want to guess why?" 
Tommy leans back in his chair. "Because you're fucking dumb, that's why." 
"Ranboo?" Technoblade addresses the creepy, quiet boy huddled over his desk in the back of the class. 
"Uh- well-" 
"Nothing ever stays the same, big guy." Tubbo interjects. "It's not as simple as stuffing it all into a one dimensional form. Who's to say it's even a line at all?"
Technoblade shrugs. "Fair, fair. Why don't y'all discuss." 
With that, most of the tension in the room dissolves. Groups form as students gravitate towards their friends. Chatter fills the former silence. Quackity forces himself to join in, laughing and pretending like everything is normal again. But nothing about this is normal. 
He can't kill Technoblade through sheer strength. But he could easily outwit him. The gears spin in his mind, working out a plot. 
++++
The first week has gone by uneventfully. Nobody's tried to kill Technoblade yet, who in turn has behaved like a responsible teacher, refraining from punting anyone. It's so boring. 
The last class of Friday ends with the bell, and the kids file out. Technoblade ignores the bitter glares from the little ‘gang’ that calls themselves Ducklings. They haven't attempted anything yet, and Technoblade doubts they'll ever find the guts to actually go through with their plots. Pity, really.
Tommy remains behind, trying to shoo Tubbo, who refuses to leave him. "Teacher!" Tommy stomps up to Techno and slams his notebook on the desk. He's a blustery scamp, but Technoblade has seen how he brightens the classroom and helps his peers. 
"Tommy." 
"Let me kill you." 
"Us." Tubbo corrects. 
"Let us kill you or else." 
"Or?" 
“I'll fail all my classes." Tommy grins, seeming confident he's found a bargaining chip. "And I'll tell everyone else to fail theirs, too. You'll be known as the worst fucking teacher to have ever teachered!" 
"Oh, the horror." Technoblade deadpans. He's got to admit, the kid has guts. "You think I care?" 
"You've gotta. You're our teacher, after all." 
"K." Technoblade doesn't smile. "I'm afraid I can't just let you kill me." 
"Then prepare to be failed upon!" 
"But." Techno holds up a hand. "But, if you try to pass your classes, I will teach you how to kill me. Deal?" 
Tubbo pipes up, "That will be adequate. Come on, Tommy." 
Technoblade waits until both are out of the classroom. He doesn't feel guilty at all. What should he feel guilty for, after all? Simmering rage burns in his chest, a constant companion to the acid in his mind. 
Next class, he promises himself. Next class, the training will begin. He'll be one step closer to achieving his goals. 
Technoblade rises and lets his human form melt away. The voices in his head scream, as they always have, as they always will, hundreds of thousands of souls trapped in here with him. His eyes-- all millions of them-- blink open as his hundreds of wings unfurl. Anyone who could see him now might name him a beast or an angel, and either could be correct. But Technoblade knows both are false promises. Humans can't create beasts or angels, after all. 
Demons, however, are apparently a different matter. 
++++
Ranboo only went back to get his notebook. He can't forget his notebook; that is the one thing he's not allowed to forget. Shadows seep from every corner of the classroom. He shivers as he hastily scrambles to his desk. 
His book isn't in his desk. Where is it?? He can't lose it. He rummages in the desk frantically. Where is it, where is it, where is it?? 
The window creaks, and Ranboo yelps, leaping away from the sudden draft. "Wh-who's there?" 
"Hey." The kind voice greets him from the darkness. "You're out late." 
"I- I just- uhh, who are you?" 
"Who are you?" 
"I- uhh, I'm Ranboo." He backs away to the door. On the floor, silver glints in a shaft of moonlight. The spiral of his notebook. Crap. The shadowed form leaps silently into the classroom and kneels to pick up the book. Crap, crap. "Uh- that's- that's mine, actually." 
"Is it, now?" The gentle mockery in his tone sets Ranboo on edge. 
"Yes, actually, so- so give it back. Please?" 
The mysterious form opens Ranboo's book and flips through it. "Interesting. Alright." He hands it back to Ranboo, who snatches it and scrambles for the door. "Actually, Ranboo, I wanted to talk to you." 
The words yank Ranboo to a halt. He wants to retort, he wants to say no, he wants to leave, but instead he turns back meekly. "Okay?" 
"You're in class 3-E, yeah?" 
"Y-yeah...?" 
"Good. That's good. Do you want your teacher to die?" 
"Huh?" Ranboo tenses, confused by the seeming non sequitor. "I- I mean." Does he want Technoblade to die? Does he want anyone to die, for that matter? "N-not necessarily?" 
"Hm. Alright." 
"Who are you?" Ranboo gathers what little courage he has and steps back towards the door. 
"You, hm, you can call me Dream." The man steps out of the shadows. The mask over his face grins eerily at Ranboo. "I've got a proposition for you, Ranboo." 
++++
"Metal melts in the bastard's skin, so anything with metal is a fucking waste of time." Quackity spreads the pages of his plan over the tree-house's table. 
"Maybe he's a vampire." Karl offers, sitting on the table and messing up Quackity's perfect layout. "Try wood stakes and garlic." 
"Vampires aren't real, dumbass." Connor rolls his eyes. 
"Well, neither are immortal pig-men mutants, but here we are." 
"He's a pig-man, not a vampire. Maybe try something for werewolves? Silver?" Sapnap joins in, swinging on the hammock. 
"He's not a fucking werewolf!" Quackity shoves Karl off the table. "Or a vampire. He's a motherfucking demon, that asshole is, and we need to fucking kill him!" 
"Language!!" The screech from the roof of the treehouse freezes everyone in place. 
"Karl." Quackity says calmly. "Who the fuck did you invite to our secret hideout?" 
"Nobody!" Karl cries. 
"Connor?" 
"He said he'd bring coke!" Connor cries. 
A short man dressed in goth black and red accents drops through the window and smiles at the Ducklings. "I did, but the cans burst on the way." 
"Not soda-" 
"Language!!" The man cries again, shushing Connor. "You kids shouldn't mess with bad stuff, anyway." 
"We don't." Quackity shoots a glare at Connor. "Anyway, it's none of your fucking business. Why the fuck are you here?? What do you want??" 
"I, uhh, just thought I'd help with your problem." The man grins. "You want to kill your teacher, right?" 
"Yeah? But-"
"Well, there you go! I can help you! Name's Bad, by the way. Badboyhalo." 
"How can you help? And what do you want in return??"
"Oh, hmm, how about seventy-five percent of the bounty." 
"Deal." Twenty-five percent of ten billion is still more than enough, and Quackity would prefer revenge on Technoblade over riches, anyway. "How do we kill him?" 
"I've got associates working on that tiny problem. We stole- uh, developed a way to hurt him temporarily, but he can't be killed unless you hit his heart, and his regen powers are too strong to let you reach that with any weapons we currently possess." 
"How the fuck do you know all this??" 
Bad smirks. "Social networking."
++++
Ranboo paces in the chilly alleyway, reading and re-reading his book as shivers wrack his body. He found it. Good. Everything is fine, now. He's fine. 
He shuts out the uneasiness caused by the blurry darkness over his memories. He's never had a good memory, which is why he has this book in the first place. 
He huddles in the corner of the grimy alley to complete his homework, and wonders briefly why there's a second notebook in his backpack also marked 'Do Not Read'. Maybe he forgot he already had one. No worries. It's fine. 
Everything is fine. 
++++
"Class." Technoblade greets his students as they file in. Quackity glares at the monster. He's in his piggy form today, his cloak swishing across the ground. 
"Rise." Tommy calls out the traditional honor given to teachers. But the class hadn't done this before for Technoblade. Quackity glances around at his fellow students, who all seem just as confused. He stands up. The others hesitantly follow his lead. 
"Bow." Tommy sets the example of a shallow bow. Then he straightens and draws a revolver. "Lock on!" 
Quackity stares as Tubbo, Eret, and Wilbur also draw out guns and take aim on Technoblade. 
"Heh??" Technoblade chuffs in confusion. 
"Target on Korosensei!" Tommy snaps out the order. "Fire!" 
"Korosensei??" Quackity's disbelieving laugh is drowned out by the ringing cracks of the guns and the shrill shrieks of students.
"HEH??" Technoblade chuffs again amidst the chaos. Quackity makes the signal to his gang as they stay out of the line of fire. 
"All stop!" Tommy barks. The gunfire ceases. 
Technoblade stares at his class, a tusky smile cracking across his muzzle. "For your first assassination attempt, that was four stars, kids." 
"Wow, that's really good!" Tubbo cheers and high-fives Tommy. 
"Out of ten." 
"Oh. Awww, come on, we deserve some credit for actually getting guns!" 
"You missed." Technoblade replies. "And you ruined my whiteboard." 
"That's your fault, innit, though, big man. If you'd've taken the bullets, the whiteboard would be alright." 
"That's true, that's true." Technoblade's smile fades into a scowl. "But you also put your classmates in danger." 
"They could've asked us what the plan was." Wilbur hums. "It's really their fault for sitting between us and you. And therefore it's your fault for assigning their seats there." 
"True." Eret agrees. "It's all Korosensei's fault."  
++++
Philza walks between his guards, Punz and Ponk, as the two escort him through the compound. "What happened?" He asks, faking calm. 
"Technoblade added another term to our deal." President Skeppy walks backwards in front of Philza. Beside him, Awesamdude keeps a hand on his holstered revolver. 
"Did he." 
"He wants his class trained for assassination. In return, he told us his weakness." 
"Hm." Philza smiles, hiding the whirlwind of chaos and bloodlust behind his eyes. "Pog."
@@@@ KOROSENSEI NEVER DIES @@@@
Chapter 3 (Next)
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a-blue-secret · 3 years
Text
CHAPTER XVI
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BACK TO THE MASTERLIST
Chapter XV | Chapter XVI | Chapter XVII
GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun
PAIRING: taegyu
WARNINGS: swearing, slight suggestive content (it’s like 3 words)
WORD COUNT: 4.8k+
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AN: This is kinda like a filler chapter, but not really a filler chapter because it explains Taehyun's ability and also gives an insight into Hueningkai's and Yeonjun's jobs so.. yeah. Enjoy!
SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?
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“Oh, that’s right,” Hueningkai said, getting out of his chair to sit next to Taehyun. “I said I’d help you with your ability, right?”
Taehyun sat up. “Oh yeah! Yeah, I remember.”
“Tell me, what was your ability again?”
“Foreign exchange,” Taehyun said. “I’m from the Jeo clan, and their ability is foreign exchange.”
“Hmm… foreign exchange…” Hueningkai pressed his fingers into his temples, and scrunched up his forehead, tongue slightly poking out of the corner of his mouth. Taehyun blinked at him.
“That’s his thinking face,” Yeonjun explained. “Kai here has the most incredible memorisation skills. Anything he memorises gets stored in his brain. Forever.”
“Queen Erajin always made me memorise all the books in the palace for this exact reason,” Hueningkai said, face still scrunched in concentration.
“ All the books?” Taehyun repeated, surprised. “Surely there must be thousands and thousands of books, if it’s a palace?”
Hueningkai hummed in confirmation, pressing his fingers further against the sides of his head. Taehyun let out a disbelieving gasp, sitting back.
“But it’s okay. It only took around five years.”
“Five years?” Taehyun said. “Wow, I guess you guys really did want to become spies.”
Hueningkai opened his eyes, and gave a smile. “It was our only option,” he said softly. He clapped his hands together. “But anyway! I think I’ve read something about the Jeo clan before, but I can’t remember exactly. That’s odd.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “It must be a pure Gojongja clan, because we don’t have many records of them in Aruyeo.” He nodded resolutely. “Yeah, that must be it. Otherwise I would have known about them. Taehyun, you guys have records of all the clans that ever existed, right?”
Taehyun nodded. “Yeah. In our Archive. Why?”
“I think if I saw the document about the Jeo clan, it would jog my memory,” Hueningkai said.
“Oh, would you like me to get it for you?” Taehyun asked.
“No, I’ll need to come with you,” Hueningkai said, rising from the bed. Yeonjun started in alarm, and grabbed Hueningkai’s wrist.
“Kai, that’s not safe! Are you sure?” Yeonjun said urgently.
“I’m a spy,” Hueningkai reminded Yeonjun. “I’ll be fine. Besides, it’ll be more cumbersome for Taehyun to carry a large, old document back to our room. Trust me, it’ll be okay.”
Yeonjun pursed his lips, and held tighter onto Hueningkai. “I’ll come with you, then.” When Hueningkai tried to protest, Yeonjun held up a hand. “If anything happens, I’ll put all the blame on me. I don't want you getting hurt.”
Hueningkai looked like he wanted to argue, but sighed, giving a small smile.He patted Yeonjun’s hand, which was still wrapped around his wrist. “Fine, if you insist.” He turned to Taehyun, giving a fake sigh of exasperation. “Older brothers, so overprotective,” he said.
Yeonjun flicked his forehead annoyedly. “Shush. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
“See what I mean? Ow! Okay, okay– I’ll stop! Come on Taehyun, lead the way.”
“How are you going to get around without being seen?” Taehyun asked curiously.
“I’m not,” Hueningkai said. “I’ll be walking around, plain as day, but I’ll blend in so invisibly you won’t be able to see me.”
Taehyun blinked, confused, but shrugged. “Okay.”
.・゜-: ✧ :-
“Here, the Archive,” Taehyun announced, stopping in front of a metal door protected by five guards. “With a titanium door 11 inches thick and multiple invisible lasers inside, it’s one of the most protected places in our palace.” He glanced at the guards. “Not to mention its excess of guards.”
“How do we get in, then? If it’s that guarded?” Yeonjun asked.
Taehyun gave a grin. “You forget. I’m the Grand Vizier. I’m allowed practically everywhere.” He nodded at one of the guards, and the guard produced a small key. “Thank you.” Taehyun walked up to the door and inserted the key into an almost invisible keyhole in the metal.
“Hang on, hang on,” Yeonjun said, as the door swung open. Taehyun turned to look at him. “You have all these guards and security, but it can be opened with a single key?”
Taehyun turned back to the door, and pushed the key more forcefully into the lock. The small key seemed to bend, and melted into the metal of the door. There was a green flickering from inside the room: an indication the lasers had been turned off.
“Every time a key is used, it is immediately replaced with a different one,” Taehyun said. “It has a different look, different lock combination, everything. So if someone tries to steal the key, it won’t work on the door because the lock will have already changed.”
Yeonjun raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow. That’s… wow. Really?”
Taehyun turned to the guard who had given him the key. The guard showed him a new key, this time rusted and red in colour.
“I don’t know how it works, but it just does,” Taehyun said, shrugging. “Anyway, come on. We don’t have all day.”
.・゜-: ✧ :-
“These cabinets on this wall are all full of the records of clans,” Taehyun said, opening one of the many cabinets inside the Archive.
“J will be in the middle,” Hueningkai said. “Come on.”
Taehyun flinched heavily, almost dropping the document he was holding. “Holy– where did you come from?”
Hueningkai quirked a grin. “I was with you the whole time. Did you forget?”
Taehyun clutched his chest, trying to slow his heartbeat. “No, I– I knew you were here, definitely–”
“I told you I could move invisibly,” Hueningkai said, still smiling at Taehyun’s shocked expression. “I didn’t even need to do anything, but I was still invisible. Cool, right?” He walked along the rows of cabinets, and opened one. “Ah, J! So the Jeo clan should be here somewhere…” Rustling of paper filled the room, but when Hueningkai’s head emerged from the drawer he just looked confused.
“What’s wrong?” Yeonjun asked, going over to where Hueningkai was.
“That’s odd,” Hueningkai said, stepping back to let Yeonjun search. “There’s no Jeo clan.”
“Really?” Taehyun said, confused. “I did my own research, and a Jeo clan definitely did exist.”
“The records suggest otherwise,” Yeonjun said, looking through the papers. He looked up. “Is there anywhere else that Gojongja may keep records of clans?”
“All I can think of is the Palace Library, but I know that library inside out–” Taehyun paused, remembering something Scholar Min had told him.
Back when Taehyun had first tried to find out about the explosive, Yoongi had told him that information about them wouldn’t be in a place he’d been to.
"You were looking in the wrong place. Spheres like these-" He rolled the marble in his palm- "aren't something you can access information on easily. They're in the section of the library I doubt you've been to."
"Which part? I assure you, I have been to every section of that library at least twice. I'm sure I know."
Yoongi chuckled. "Well, I assure you , that you have most certainly never been to the place which would hold information about these."
“Wait, Yoongi said something to me before,” Taehyun said. “Do you guys know how to access secret rooms you’ve never been into before?”
Hueningkai patted Yeonjun’s shoulder. “That’s this guy’s speciality.”
“Good. Yeonjun, I think there might be a secret room in the library which holds information about things people don’t look for. Do you think you could find it?”
Yeonjun raised his eyebrow. “Oh really?” He stretched his arms, cracking his knuckles. “I suppose I could give it a try. Let’s get going to the Palace Library.”
.・゜-: ✧ :-
Yeonjun carefully ran his fingers along the bookshelves, pausing every now and then to peer into the cracks of the wall. Taehyun and Hueningkai followed behind.
“Uh…” Taehyun looked behind him, and almost bumped into Hueningkai. “Does it always take him this long?”
“Shut up,” Yeonjun said. “It’s been a while, okay? Plus, this library is huge.” He straightened up, brushing the dust from his fingertips. “Okay, this isn’t going to work. It’ll take me five years if I do it like this. Though I may have the entire floor plan of Gojongja Palace memorised, I certainly cannot remember all the details of the library. Do you have the blueprints?”
A few short minutes later, Taehyun and Hueningkai were peering over Yeonjun’s shoulder as he eyed the map carefully.
“So? See anything useful?”
“Shh, I need to focus.” Yeonjun brought a finger to his lips, stopping Taehyun from pestering him anymore. “Plus, this is a library. We need to be quiet.”
Suddenly, Yeonjun slammed the map down on the table, yelling triumphantly. “Aha! Here!”
He was quickly shushed by Taehyun. “We’re in a library, we need to be quiet.”
Yeonjun glared at the smirking vizier, taking Taehyun’s hand away from his mouth. “Oh ha ha, very funny. Anyway, how did you not know there was a basement?”
“Huh?” Taehyun looked at the map, scrunching his eyebrows. “Basement?”
Yeonjun traced his finger along the lines, and circled a small indentation in one of the wall drawings. “See here? That means there must be a door. And, since it doesn’t lead to any hallways, there must be a lower layer of the library.”
“I did not know about that,” Taehyun said. “Come on, then! Lead the way!”
.・゜-: ✧ :-
Yeonjun rolled his shoulder uncomfortably, massaging his arm. “That door… it was so stiff. Ugh, I’m going to have arm pains now.”
Hueningkai gave a small laugh. “That’s what you get for shoving open the door. I’m pretty sure Taehyun would have had some key to open it.”
“Oh right. Why didn’t you say anything Taehyun?” Yeonjun complained, walking down. “Watch your step, guys. The last stair is really far from the ground.”
After reaching the door, the three of them descended down the stairs into the library basement. Yeonjun turned around in circles.
“Huh. There’s no light. Where are you guys?”
“Pfft– ow, what are you doing?” Taehyun held Yeonjun’s grabby hands away from him to prevent the Aruyeonan from manhandling his face again. “And duh, there’s no light. We’re underground, and we closed the door.”
Suddenly, there was a bright orange glow, and a ball of fire rolled into the center of the room, illuminating their faces. Yeonjun yelped, clinging onto Taehyun.
“Don’t worry, the fire is in the marble,” Hueningkai said. “This is a slow burner. It won’t last forever, but it’ll last long enough for us to find the document.” He pulled some more out of his pockets, and handed them to Taehyun and Yeonjun. “Let’s hurry.”
“These aren’t marbles, they’re footballs,” Taehyun murmured, struggling to hold the glass ball in one hand. “But yeah, let’s get going.”
The three of them separated, looking through the large underground library on their own. While searching for any important documents, Taehyun tutted.
“All I’ve found are erotic novels! What about you guys?” he called.
“Oh good, I’m not the only one! Hueningkai, have you found anything useful?” Yeonjun’s voice sounded to his left.
There was a yelp and the sound of paper dropping. Hueningkai didn’t answer. Taehyun waited, but there was silence. He cursed and hurried toward where the sound had come from.
Coming up to the bright light of Hueningkai’s fire, he saw Yeonjun already there, holding onto a shaken Hueningkai.
“Hyuka, are you okay? Answer me! Hueningkai!” Yeonjun shook Hueningkai, trying to get a response out of him.
“He- I saw him,” Hueningkai whispered, eyes wild. “Him. The lavender blue eyes… It was him Yeonjun, it was him!”
“Who? Who is it?” Taehyun asked.
“Hueningkai, listen, listen to me,” Yeonjun said urgently. “Listen. There’s no way he’s here, he’s just a myth, it’s okay. Why would he be here? It’s okay, it’s okay. See? He’s not here anymore.  It’s just you, me and Taehyun. It’s okay. Breathe with me. Come on, Hueningkai. Breathe.”
Hueningkai was still breathing heavily, face pale. But eventually, accompanied by Yeonjun’s patient breathing exercises, he calmed down, and the colour returned to his face. He spotted Taehyun standing there awkwardly, and gave an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, Taehyun, for having a panic attack and scaring you there.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Taehyun assured him. “As long as you’re okay.” He paused. “By the way, who is ‘he’?”
“No one,” Yeonjun responded quickly. “Just… a spy myth. That’s all.” He hesitated, still looking concernedly down at Hueningkai. “Taehyun? Why don’t you continue searching for the papers?”
Taehyun frowned. He wanted to stay with Hueningkai and make sure he was okay, but one look at Yeonjun’s pleading face and he reluctantly nodded his head. “Alright.”
As he walked away, he heard Yeonjun whisper urgently to Hueningkai.
“Please tell me you were hallucinating, Kai. Because about a week ago, I also thought I saw him in the palace halls…”
Their voices faded away, and Taehyun tilted his head in confusion. Though he and the spies were now more than just acquaintances, it still seemed there were a lot of things he was yet to understand about their spy world.
.・゜-: ✧ :-
“Hey, I found them,” Taehyun called. “I found the documents. But… it’s embarrassingly just a single piece of parchment.”
“Oh, let’s see.” Yeonjun walked over and looked at it. He frowned. “Oh, you’re right. It’s literally just one sheet.” He looked up at Hueningkai. “How will this help you?”
Hueningkai just shrugged, holding his hand out for the document. “It’ll jog my memory, I’m hoping.” He scanned the document up and down, and his eyes lit up. “Ah, that’s right. Foreign exchange, right?” He waved the paper in front of Taehyun’s face excitedly. “I remember! The reason the Jeo clan died out was because they were systematically killed one by one since their ability was so powerful! Wow, it’s all coming back to me now! The Jeo clan ability was a closely hidden secret in the beginning, so not many people came and took the surname Jeo, because they thought it was weak. That’s the reason why there aren’t any clan branches now. Anyway, the Jeos kept their ability so secret that people thought they had no ability. And that was so, so deadly for the people. Because the Jeos would come out of nowhere and suddenly start dominating and taking over things.
“Foreign exchange is a broad term. And yes, while a name doesn’t necessarily determine an ability, there really is not a more fitting description for the Jeo clan ability. If we were to speak technically, though, it’d be intercommunication between all things. They can speak using anything. Ah, it’s hard to explain, but they can speak any language, be it that of humans, animals, trees… heck, even charms. They could manipulate their voices to speak charms. It’s really quite fascinating, if you think about it.
“Soon, the Jeos spread like wildfire, killing and charming and taking over places. That is, until they grew too strong and the other clans of that era had to unite and ‘exterminate’ the Jeos. I remember, I read about this one famous incident that happened in the First Era, regarding the Yeosan Song clan and the Jeo clan. It was one man against the whole of the Yeosan Songs, and–”
“Okay, that’s enough with the info dump,” Yeonjun interrupted, holding up a hand to stop Hueningkai from rambling on any longer. “I think we get the idea.”
“Right, right.” Hueningkai rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Wow, I see why knowledge on clans is useful to Queen Erajin,” Yeonjun said, staring at Hueningkai. “You’re like an information bank. If we give you any sort of reference, you start spewing out all the information you know which is even remotely related to the subject. How do you remember all this stuff?”
“I absorb information like a sponge. That’s what all my tutors told me.”
“Wait, why does Queen Erajin want information about our clans though?” Taehyun interjected. “That’s part of the alliance, isn’t it? She wants our knowledge on clans, and also our forests. Do you know why?”
“Nope,” Yeonjun said, popping the ‘p’. “She just told me to say that it was something confidential within our court. I don’t actually know what it is. She does weird stuff, I tell you. One of the missions I went on for her was to go steal some flowers from this Lord, and burn the rest of the flowers so they couldn’t grow again.” He shrugged. “I never questioned it. It was never my place to question it. But it was always clear that these missions would be of the utmost benefit to Aruyeo. So I just went along with it.”
Taehyun tutted disapprovingly. “You’re like an obedient dog, aren’t you?”
Yeonjun glared, drawing himself up to his full height. “Shush. I’m more of a wild fox, you squirrel.”
Taehyun gasped. “Squirrel? How dare you!”
“Both of you, shut it,” Hueningkai called. He ruffled Yeonjun’s hair affectionately. “As for you, tiny big bro, don’t make fun of anyone’s height while I’m around. It doesn’t look good.”
Yeonjun pushed Hueningkai’s hand away, glaring at him with little menace. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Otherwise I’d have smashed all the bones in your hand.”
Hueningkai gave a grin. “I would have broken your fingers before you’d be able to do it.”
“Okay so anyway,” Taehyun interjected. “What about the ability, then? Foreign exchange? How do I like… activate it?”
“Ah. That.” Hueningkai scratched his neck. “I’m not actually too sure. It’s not exactly heard of for someone not to be able to use their ability.” At Taehyun’s frowny face, he reached out and patted the vizier’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m sure there will be some logic to figuring it out though. But first, shall we get out of here?”
.・゜-: ✧ :-
“So why do you want to figure it out anyway? You already have the Jinju Kang ability, right? You’re literally famous for how well you can use it. Why do you need to know about the Jeo clan ability?” Hueningkai asked.
The three of them were sitting on the bed inside Yeonjun’s room, in a mini circle. Hueningkai had his hands clasped together, with a frown on his face.
“Well, it’s because it’s my true ability I suppose,” Taehyun responded. “I want to know what I can actually do myself.”
Hueningkai nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. But what doesn’t is the fact you don’t know how to use this ability.”
He placed his hands down on the mattress, waving them around for emphasis as he talked. “It should be an ability ingrained into you from birth,” he said. “I’m not sure how Gojongja works, but in Aruyeo they held tuition classes to help the kids learn how to control their abilities. Do you have something like that here?”
“All learning on abilities is done independently, I think,” Taehyun responded. “Like you said, knowledge on how to use your ability is ingrained into you from birth, so all the learning we needed to do was just to make it stronger.”
“How do you mean?” Yeonjun asked.
“Like, when I was five, I could only make the grass move. I couldn’t make anything grow. But as I grew older, and my ability grew stronger, I’d practice and practice to get to the stage I am right now.” He held up his hand and conjured a small daisy to prove his point. Letting it bloom for a moment, he folded his hand and crushed the flower. “Like that.”
Yeonjun nodded thoughtfully. “Seeing as Hueningkai couldn’t remember much about the Jeo clan in the beginning, it must be a pure Gojongja clan, meaning the ability works the same way most Gojongja abilities do.”
“Right, right,” Hueningkai agreed. “So that means, since you haven’t used it before, it’s weak.”
“Like that of a newborn baby’s,” Taehyun said.
Hueningkai nodded. “Exactly. But even babies have knowledge of how to use their ability, so I’m just thinking…” He reached out for Taehyun’s hand, the hand in which the vizier had conjured a flower. “Is your Jinju Kang ability interfering with your capability to perform the Jeo ability?” Gently, he traced the lines along Taehyun’s palm, leaving a glowing path where his fingers had been.
“What are you doing?” Taehyun asked, trying to take his hand out of Hueningkai’s grip.
“No, stay there,” Yeonjun said, holding Taehyun’s arm in place. “Matter manipulation, remember? He’s trying to see something.”
“Okay but it’s kind of stressing me,” Taehyun said, watching as more of his palm started to glow.
“It’s okay. Trust me, and relax,” Hueningkai said, not looking up from Taehyun’s hand. “You won’t feel a thing.”
Taehyun hummed, still a little sceptical, but kept his arm steady to allow Hueningkai to do whatever he needed to do. The young Aruyeonan continued to stare at Taehyun’s palm, tracing more glowing patterns across the skin. After a few minutes, Taehyun spoke again.
“Are you trying to see through my skin into my bones?”
“No,” Hueningkai responded. “I’m trying to see through your bones into your ability.” At Taehyun’s confused silence, he began to explain. “There’s no scientific way to explain this as such, but there are other types of matter. Other than the ones we all know about: solids, liquids, and gases, there seem to be others. I don’t know, maybe it’s just because of my ability that I can see them. They’ve never been found out before, so I’m not sure if they’re truly accessible. But anyway, I’m trying to make your skin transparent, and turn the rest of you into another type of matter, which is linked to the magic of our abilities.”
Yeonjun frowned. “So there’s this type of matter which takes the form of abilities?”
“Technically, yeah,” Hueningkai said. “So I’m trying to turn the solid and liquid of your hand into that state of matter.”
“How will that help?” Taehyun asked.
“I’ll be able to see your ability, and identify how you can use the Jeo ability.”
Taehyun gave a soft gasp as his hand unexpectedly turned warm, as if put above the steam of a pot of boiling water. His skin turned translucent, showing all his flesh and bones, before it melted into a strange, sparkly substance. He stared curiously at the substance which appeared to be within his own hand.
“Wow,” was all he was able to say. “That’s pretty.”
Hueningkai gave an amused chuckle, watching the sparkly stuff swirl lazily in Taehyun’s hand. “We are but beings carved from moonshine and stardust,” he said. “That’s what Sir Yoongi always said.” He looked up at Taehyun, and the vizier’s hand stopped glowing, gradually turning back to normal. “He was probably just joking, though.”
“So did you find out what’s wrong with Taehyun’s ability?” Yeonjun asked. “I mean, why he couldn’t use it?”
“Yeah, I have,” Hueningkai said, chuckling slightly. “Ah, I’m so dumb! It’s obvious! It’s because Taehyun’s never attempted to speak in a foreign language before!”
Taehyun blinked, before smiling. “Oh, you’re right. I’ve never had to, so I guess that’s why.”
“They never made you learn a foreign language?” Yeonjun asked curiously.
“They didn’t need to,” Hueningkai said. “They didn’t need to, since Taehyun is already a master at all languages, right? It’s any form of communication, as well! You could probably go talk to a dog now, and it’d understand you.”
“Does that mean I’ll be able to understand dogs too?” Taehyun asked.
“Yeah, but it’ll probably take practice. Remember, your ability is weak, so you need to gradually build it up. Though actually, that might not be the case,” Hueningkai said musingly. “You said your ability grows with your age, right?”
Taehyun nodded. “But it’ll still be weak, because it hasn’t been used before.”
“Ah right, okay.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door, and Hueningkai messily scrambled under the bed. Yeonjun chuckled, and stood up to see who was at the door.
“Um, hello? I heard that Sir Taehyun was meant to be here.” A nervous-looking young boy stood at the door, clutching lots of loose pieces of parchment.
“Yes, I am,” Taehyun said, getting up and walking over to the door. “Ah, these must be information about the Lords, correct?”
“Y– yes, sir. They are.”
“Thank you. I’ll take these, then.”
The boy handed the papers to Taehyun and bowed several times, before shooting off down the hallway. Yeonjun watched him scurry away, chuckling, before closing the door.
“The nervous ones are the most adorable. They act as if you’re going to bite their head off with one wrong move.” He peered over Taehyun’s shoulder as the vizier leafed through the papers. “You’re doing work already? Taehyun, you’ve only just recovered from being sick! Kai, tell him! Since you were literally practically technically almost poisoned , there really is no need for you to go back to work so soon, Taehyun. See here, concentrating for so long will hurt your head, and you might fall over like you did last time! And we don’t know if you’re fully recovered yet, ‘cause you might have relapses or something, which will definitely not be good for you–”
“These papers are long overdue,” Taehyun said, ignoring Yeonjun’s scoldings. “I asked for them about a week ago. Oh well. Better late than never, I suppose.”
“–and it’s not good for your eyes looking at that tiny writing! Hey, Taehyun. Are you listening to me?”
Taehyun walked past Yeonjun, sitting down cross-legged on the carpeted floor. “Hueningkai, you can get up now. The runner boy has gone now.” Hueningkai poked his head out from under the bed, and crawled out to sit next to Taehyun.
“Ooh. Why are you looking at the background info of various Lords?” he asked.
“I’m replacing council members,” Taehyun replied. “These are all potential candidates.”
“Wait, let me see,” Yeonjun said, reaching for a paper. “I might know some of them.”
“Me too,” Hueningkai added, taking another parchment from Taehyun’s pile. “I may not get out of Aruyeo much, but people do come to our court.”
The three of them silently looked through the papers, the two spies occasionally speaking up to let Taehyun know anything additional they knew about certain people.
“This guy was in our military for six years,” Hueningkai said. “I remember him! He’s so handsome as well.”
“Don’t date a soldier,” Yeonjun reprimanded. “They make bad boyfriends.”
“Like spies are any better,” Hueningkai said. “Anyway, I’m just saying. He used to be in the military, so he’s probably good.”
“Speaking of the military, how is everything going with the riot? How has employing the military fared?” Yeonjun asked.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Taehyun smiled, putting down the parchment he’d been looking at. “It was successful! The soldiers retreated the day Beomgyu left, and no one was hurt.”
“That’s good.” A thought struck Hueningkai. “But if it would be that easy, why would they have rebelled?”
“Right? I didn’t understand that. But apparently loads of the soldiers overheard the citizens talking, and it sounded like they had been under a spell,” Taehyun said. He shrugged. “I dunno. There aren't any Lords who are spell-casters, at least according to my knowledge, so I’m not sure. They could have been threatened, but even that is unlikely.”
Yeonjun frowned. "When did you have time to hear that? You were still bedridden the day Beomgyu left!”
“It must have been when you went to your chambers to change clothes,” Hueningkai said, narrowing his eyes playfully. “That’s why you took three hours!”
Taehyun held his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. You caught me! But I can’t stay away from work for too long. So starting tomorrow, I’ll be resuming my duties as a vizier again. Full-time.”
Yeonjun sighed. “So that means tonight is your last night sleeping here, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
Hueningkai gasped, clapping his hands excitedly. “Then why don’t we all sleep in the bed?”
“What, together?” Taehyun said. “I don’t think–”
“Yes! Hueningkai, you’re a genius!” Yeonjun cheered. When Taehyun tried to protest, he picked up the vizier by the legs and flung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, before plopping him onto the bed, promptly diving onto the mattress next to him. “Come on, Kai!”
“Hey!” Taehyun flailed around for a pillow, and began hitting Yeonjun fervently. In retaliation, Yeonjun also picked up a cushion, hitting Taehyun with equal vigor. Suddenly, a huge bolster pillow hit both of their heads, almost knocking them over. They both paused, turning to slowly look at the offender. Hueningkai blinked, giggling nervously. Within a matter of seconds, Hueningkai was getting beaten up by two pillows, feathers flying everywhere.
The three of them ended up passed out on the bed, surrounded by destroyed pillows and piles of feathers, a tangled mess of limbs. In the morning, they’d have to deal with the white, fluffy mess they’d made, but for now, they were calm and content, far away in dreamland.
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delicatelyherdreams · 4 years
Text
Pragma(tic) 6: He Never Listens
Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader
Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]
Word Count: 5244
Warnings: Language
Pragma(tic) Masterlist
Previous 5: She Deals With a Pest
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“Where’s your head been lately, Buck?”
“Hmm? I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean,” Steve said turning his torso to face his best friend, “you’ve been distracted these past few weeks, and I want to know why.”
Bucky only shrugged, his eyes glazing over as he stared down at the mortal city before them. “I dunno, man. I guess I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” Steve was persistent, prodding, desperate to know what was troubling him. “Come on, man, you can tell me anything.”
This was true, but Bucky wasn’t sure he could tell him this: that he was still sneaking into the Underworld when their backs were turned or when he had a spare moment. He wasn’t sure that he could tell Steve that he was enchanted by the only goddess he was forbidden to talk with.
It’d been about two months since his and Hades’ first meeting, and he’d been down there a total of four times since. The first time, she caught him at the border and sent him back after a scolding. The second, he made it to beautiful Elysium, spooked a couple spirits, and had the time of his life before she dragged him out, less annoyed and more amused than the first. But these last two times, even though she told him that he wasn’t allowed to be down there and sent him back, she talked to him like he was an acquaintance. She answered his questions (“Where do you live?” “On the mountain.” “Is it lonely?” “Sometimes, but that’s why I have a dog and friends.” “Am I your friend?” “No.” “Are we ever going to be friends?” “I cannot say.”) and even gave him a smile. That was a personal accomplishment for him.
He felt like he was getting to her, breaking down the walls little by little. Gods, he knew he still had a long way to go, but he couldn’t help but feel proud that he’d gotten as far as he did. The last time he was down there, she didn’t even kick him out that harshly; she just walked him out as if walking guests out from a party and actually said “Goodbye, James” when she left. If that wasn’t progress, Bucky didn’t know what was.
Bucky pursed his lips, debating on how to tell his friend what was going on without really telling him what was going on. “I guess it’s just…” He trailed off, his brain running with ideas and words, none of which were good enough to conceal the truth.
“Yes? It’s just what?”
He nodded his head to the side, before finally saying, “There’s this girl, and I can’t get her out of my head. She’s so different from other people I’ve met before, and it’s wonderful. But I’m not sure how I feel about her or how she feels about me, y’know?” He sighed and lifted his head up to the sky to stare at the clouds. If he focused hard enough, he could almost make out her face in the patterns, as insane as it was. 
“I mean, kinda?” Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never really had that before. What’s her name?”
“Hade— Harriet.”
Steve snorted, his chest jolting with the sudden movement. “Hade-Harriet? What kind of name is that.”
Bucky could feel the color rising up his neck as it tried to creep on his cheeks. He turned his head away. “Her name is Harriet.” *Harriet.* Really? Was that the best he could come up with? Welp, it was going to have to work for now. “She’s really cool, but she’s also stubborn and strict. She’s really insistent on boundaries.”
“Uh-huh, and where did you meet her?”
*Dammit, Steve. Stop asking questions.*
“I—uh—I met her in the Mortal World. You and Sam were napping and I wanted to go shopping, so I went down to the mainland to see what stores there were. And we just kinda ran into each other, you know.”
Bucky was impressed with how easily he had fabricated the story, he just hoped that Steve bought it.
Steve didn’t, but he didn’t get a chance to call Bucky on his bullshit.
The wind picked up, swirling all around the two men. The grass spun around them, blowing violently, bringing the smell of plants along with it. The wind funneled, creating a narrow tube. The wind grew hazy, thick with grain and greens, as it moved to a spot in front of them.
Steve straightened up, his shoulders rolling back to appear more formal.
Bucky did the same, for he knew what this wind meant: the arrival of his mother.
When the wind cleared, a woman with dark hair to match Bucky’s and startling green eyes stood before them. She was dressed in a deep green suit, gold ornaments woven into her hair. She beamed down at the two, her eyes sparkling when she laid eyes on her son. “Hello, James,” she greeted, her voice as strong as her finest plants and her smile as warm as the sun that fed them.
“Mother!” Bucky rose to his full height, a good five inches taller than his mother, and took fast strides over to her to engulf her in a hug.
“Oh, my baby boy,” she said as she hugged him tightly. “It’s been too long! How are things? How are you doing? Staying out of trouble I assume?” 
“Oh yes, Mrs. B,” Steve chimed. “Sam and I have been doing a good job at keeping James here straight.”
She smiled. “Good. Speaking of which, where is Sam?”
“Oh, he’s down in the city grabbing us some cheeseburgers. He lost rock paper scissors and got sacrificed to go on the food run.”
At this, Winnifred frowned. “You know I don’t like you boys going down there. Why don’t you go up to Olympus for lunch instead? There’s this cafe that makes the best ambrosia ever! You simply must try it.”
Bucky gave her a polite smile. “Alright, Mother. We’ll go there next time for lunch.” He cleared his throat, starting to change the subject. “So, why have you come?”
“Oh, you know. I had a bit of a break at the office and decided to come visit my son, make sure he’s doing well and— Wait, what’s that smell?”
*Fuck.*
“Wh-What smell?” Bucky asked, trying so hard to keep his voice steady and even. He knew damn well what smell, but he wasn’t going to point that out.
His mother scrunched her nose in disgust. “It smells like death. What the—” She turned her eyes towards Bucky, seemingly fixating on him and glowering.
Bucky felt the color drain from his cheeks. He was done for. She knew. She knew it was him and—
“What the hell is happening here?” She marched towards him, passing him with an air of agitation. She stopped at a tree several yards behind the boys and stared at it with a glare. “James, this tree is dying, and you didn’t save it?” She reached out and pressed her palm flat against its trunk. Instantly the dark bark began to lighten with life as she rejuvenated it. “Honestly, James. You’re supposed to be a god of spring. The least you can do is keep alive what little area I gave you.” She shot a teasing smile at him over her shoulder.
Bucky almost laughed with relief, but instead, he adopted a more serious demeanor. “I’m sorry, Mother. I’ll do better next time.”
“You’d better if you want to become an even better god!” She pulled away from the tree before walking back to the boys. “Well, I’m sorry to have to leave so soon, but I only came for a short visit. Work is busy as ever in the spring and I need to keep tabs on all the harvests.” She smiled at Steve. “You tell Sam ‘hello’ for me and keep an eye on my boy, you hear?”
Steve nodded politely. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll keep him out of trouble.”
“Good. Then…” She turned to Bucky and held her arms out. “Give your mother one last hug.”
Bucky chuckled but complied. “Mother, you don’t have to treat me like a kid anymore. I’m more than a thousand years old.”
“I know, but you’ll always be my baby boy.” She kissed his cheek before pulling away from him. “I’ll see you soon, my child. Until the next time.” And just like that, she was gone; vanished into a cloud of grain and wheat.
As soon as she was gone, Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. He was always tense around his mother, even more so now that he had something to hide. He just hoped that she would never find out his dirty little secret.
———
It was another few days before Bucky was able to sneak away from Steve and Sam again. It was in the dead of the night, when they were sleeping, that Bucky crept away, staying as silent as possible. He walked away from the clearing that the boys had chosen to sleep in, and summoned a pair of dark jeans and a blue shirt to clothe him. The garments materialized on his body as they did for every god, taking the place of his pajamas. Using the cover of night, he slipped away.
A perk of being a god, even a minor, fledgling one like him, was the teleportation. With a destination on his mind, Bucky could travel anywhere on Heaven and Earth that he wanted. And it was through this, that Bucky appeared on Cape Matapan, a small landmass at the end of Greece’s Mani Peninsula. The mortals had said that the elaborate network of caves there concealed an entrance to Hades. They were right, although it was a difficult journey. But Bucky had been using these caves to get into the Underworld ever since Hades sealed off the Dikteon Cave and tightened security at the Acheron. She wasn’t quite aware of this entrance yet and Bucky wanted to keep it like that. After all, he was starting to run out of ways to sneak in under her nose.
Bucky took a couple of steps into the cave before pausing and leaning down. A flashlight was nestled against the wall of the cave, right where he’d left it the last time. His fingers wrapped around the metal cylinder of the flashlight and he flicked it on. The beam pierced the darkness of the cave, illuminating the tunnels ahead, and he began the short journey down.
Slopes and declines in the path took him deeper and deeper into the earth; and as he descended, he could feel the life seeping out of the air—a telltale sign that he was nearing his destination.
He walked for twenty or so minutes before he hit the end of the tunnel network. The cavern opened up slightly, still darkened with a black that swallowed up any and all light around. 
Bucky grinned. He’d made it down, and now all he had to do was take a step in. He flicked off the flashlight, plunging the cave into darkness and set it down on the ground before walking right into the mass of black before him. It was cold as always, stealing any sign of warmth and life from his bones, and it made him shudder, but he pushed on. Eventually he was tossed out onto the other side, right at the edge of a flower meadow. The cave behind him sealed, taking on the facade of being a simple wall, but Bucky knew what it was. He stumbled a bit as he emerged, but he caught his footing pretty quickly. He wasn’t going to fall like he had the first time, not when there were so many spirits around to bear witness to it.
He straightened up and looked over the area.
Shades milled about the field—the Asphodel Meadows, he thought it was called—all minding their own business as they floated aimlessly. Very few paid him any attention, but that didn’t bother him. The less attention he drew, the better. Beyond the Meadows, he saw the gates of Elysium rising high and the mountain right next to it. The black mansion at its peak was daunting as ever, and yet that was his destination. Bucky wondered how close he’d make it this time before Hades found him and sent him home.
Determined to at least make it to the base of her mountain, Bucky started walking. The shades around him parted, making a narrow path in his wake and allowing him easier means to reach his destination. Of course, he could’ve just walked through them, but that would’ve been rude and his mother had raised him to be a gentleman.
The mountain grew larger as he neared, towering over him and becoming more and more intimidating with every step. He could begin to make out the details of Hades’ mansion now and even see figures moving behind the frosted glass of the windows. She was home, and she had company. 
He hesitated. If Hades had guests over, as surprising as that would be, maybe he shouldn’t impose. He could always come back another time or—
“Back again, I see.”
He squeaked and whirled around, lifting his hands to defend himself in case of an attack. But none ever came.
Instead, Hades just crossed her arms and smirked, her red-coated lips quirked up with amusement. “Did I startle you, little prince?”
Bucky scoffed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “No. You just caught me off guard.”
“So I startled you?”
“Well… Maybe.” He shook his head and looked her over.
The other times he’d weaseled his way in and she’d come to greet him, she’d always looked professional, prim, and proper. She would always be adorned with a black business blazer, pressed pants, and an elegant pair of flats. Her eyes would always be shrouded with a smokey eye and her lips would always glow as red as her eyes. Her hair would always be styled, not a single hair out of place. But this time there was no makeup on her face that was apparent to him, strands of loose hair flew every-which-way in a fashion that was unruly but still attractive, and she was dressed in a more casual attire of black jeans that hugged her legs, a plain grey shirt that hung loosely from her shoulders, and black sneakers. 
If Bucky had an opinion, he would’ve said that she looked as attractive as ever, but he didn’t have an opinion. He lifted his chin with a smile. “How did you get down here so fast?”
“I sensed you coming. Using the shadows, I came to your side.” She gestured down to the shadows of the flowers that fell on the ground. She was standing in one like she’d just risen from it. 
“But I just saw you and someone else in the window and I thought that you had company.”
“Oh, I do,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “But it’s just Peggy. She was on her way out anyway; she has her own paperwork to get to.”
“Peggy? Goddess of magic, crossroads, ghosts—”
“And other things,” Hades confirmed. “The mortals call her Hecate, but her name is Peggy.” Hades turned her head away from him and looked up at the mansion on the mountain. “She’s up there with my dog. I sometimes think that she likes him more than she likes me.” She chuckled.
“I didn’t know you had a dog.” Bucky smiled softly at her, keeping his head down so he could see her easier and she could see his face.
She scrunched her nose. “Really? You seriously did not know that I have a dog? Cerberus is in nearly every myth about me, and he helps guard the entrance to the Underworld to make sure the souls don’t get out.”
Bucky had no idea. He never read the myths, he only knew some names of the other gods. With a sheepish laugh, he rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight from side to side. “N-No I didn’t. I—”
He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because, at that moment, Hades brought two fingers up to her mouth and whistled. The sound rang loud and clear through the still air and a crash followed it almost immediately.
Rapid movement from the mansion atop the mountain drew his eye, and he saw a black mass bounding down the path of the mountain. It was moving at a speed that shouldn’t have been possible for a normal dog, drawing dangerously close with every second. Bucky was tempted to run away—he’d never seen anything like this before—but Hades, with her calm demeanor as she watched the figure approaching with only an amused smile betraying her emotion, coaxed him to stay. He stood his ground, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the black mass.
As it neared, its details became clear. He saw the animal’s shaggy black fur shining in the dim light of the Underworld and its glowing red eyes staring at him and Hades. Its tongue was hanging out of its mouth, its lips spread wide as if it was grinning. When it came within three yards of the pair, it let out a loud yelp before leaping into the air right at Hades. Bucky was certain it was going to knock her down, but she opened her arms and caught him as easily as if it were a child.
She laughed, the sound music to Bucky’s ears, as the wolf-like creature attacked her face with its tongue. “Cerberus!” she cried, her voice as light and airy as Bucky had ever heard it. “Get down! I’ve taught you better than this.”
It was then that Bucky realized that this was her dog. His lips split back into a smile. “Well isn’t he a handsome thing.”
“You think this is great, you should see him at his full height.” She grinned down at her dog, cupping his face in her hands. “He’s huge, and all three of his heads come out. It’s sad though, I only have two hands and I can’t pet them all.”
Bucky snorted, but said nothing, opting to observe instead. He was fascinated with the scene in front of him. He’d never seen Hades so relaxed; she was always ushering him out as fast as she could, and it was amazing for him to see her like this. It made his heart race in his chest and his smile widen to an uncomfortable size. It made his head light and his stomach flip. It made him happy.
Hades pulled away from Cerberus and turned to look at Bucky. “I figured you two ought to be acquainted since he’ll be helping me kick you out from now on, or doing it himself if I’m too busy to deal with you.” She glanced at him through her eyelashes.
Bucky feigned being hurt and clutched his chest with his hand. “I’m not even going to have the pleasure of being escorted out by the Queen of the Underworld?”
“Not when she’s too busy dealing with queenly things to take care of your ass.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Now, come on. You know the drill.” She jerked her head in the direction of the Acheron. 
Bucky groaned. “Oh, come on! I just got here!”
“And now you’re just leaving.” She rubbed Cerberus’ head one more time before reaching forward and grabbing Bucky’s wrist. “I’ve got shit to deal with right now. Filing away souls, welcoming new Elysium residents, going over appeals for Elysium admittance; my job is never done.”
Bucky walked with her, staring at the hair on the back of her head and tracing the patterns of the strands. “Yeah? What else do you do?”
She shrugged, but answered, “A variety of things: manage the other gods down here, maintain border security, deal with difficult souls that want to cause disturbances, walk my dog, sometimes go around Elysium and mark up renovations that need to happen. You name it, I probably deal with it in one way or another. That’s what happens when you rule a realm.”
Bucky nodded, his eyes glinting with interest. “It seems like you really care about people down here.”
“Oh, I do,” Hades agreed. “They’re my subjects, mine to protect and guard. I love them like my family.” She smiled fondly, her lips twitching up as her eyes crinkled at the corners. “There’s a bunch of good people down here, but there are also some bad…” Her smile dissolved and her eyes flickered towards the far wall of the Underworld where the Phlegethon flowed. “But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is how you’ve managed to keep sneaking down here. Would you care to clue me in?”
He smirked. “You know, I would but then you’d just go and block it off and I’d never be able to return.”
“You’re damn right. You’re causing major security concerns whenever you get in without me knowing until you’re already down here.” She was deadly serious now, and Bucky could feel it radiating off her in waves. “If you can get in, then that means other things can too. And I don’t know if you’ve been made aware or not, but we’ve got some big-shot prisoners down here that enemies of the gods would just love to set free. If they were to find out that the Underworld has a security breach, then who knows what kind of chaos they could unleash.” She glanced at him, just barely turning her head in his direction. “I need to know, James. How are you getting in?”
Bucky nibbled at his lip and turned his head up. He was thinking. 
On one hand, he could see where Hades was coming from, and logically he knew he should tell her where his entrance was, but on the other he was afraid she was going to seal him out forever. He’d grown attached to the Underworld, finding it interesting, unique, and beautiful. He wanted to know more about it, explore it, and see what made Hades love it so. He wasn’t ready to give it up, but he knew he had to share. 
Bucky crossed his arms and pressed his lips together, reluctance rolling off him in waves, before admitting, “Cape Matapan. The myths said that if you go down deep enough into the caves, then you’ll reach the Underworld and, well, they’re right. I’ve used them the past couple of times.”
And at that, she smiled at him. Not one of the half-smiles she’d been giving him, but a full-blown smile that lit up her entire face. 
It made Bucky’s heart flutter with exhilaration, and he couldn’t help but think that he should do things to make her smile more. She was breathtaking; drop-dead gorgeous.
She continued to smile at him as she said, “Thank you, James. I really appreciate your honesty.”
He smiled back and nodded. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass, but there’s just something about being down here that I can’t quite put my finger on.”
She chuckled. “I know the feeling. It’s very peaceful and calm down here. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”
From there, they started walking in silence, drawing nearer and nearer towards the Acheron. At some point in time, they began to walk next to the Cocytus, the river that fed into the Acheron. The water wailed beside them, the pitiful cries of souls long past that had become trapped in the water’s rush filling the air. The sounds made shivers run down Bucky’s spine.
But it wasn’t just the noise that made Bucky uneasy, although Hades seemed unaffected, it was the figure standing about a dozen yards away from him and Hades.
The man lurking along the river bank was obviously a naiad. He sported the same blue tint to his skin that all water nymphs did, the water beside him only highlighting the features. His dark hair was coiffed and his jawline was marked with a short stubble that came from not shaving in a few days. His heavyset, brown eyes cut through the air as they stared at him and Hades, filling the air with suffocating intensity. His arms were crossed as his eyes trailed Hades. He watched her, studied her, with his unrelenting and almost predatory gaze. 
Bucky wasn’t sure why, but looking at that man watch Hades like she was his made Bucky’s blood boil. For the first time in his life, Bucky wanted to pick a fight with a man—this man. He sneered. “Who’s that?”
“Hmm?” Hades tore her gaze away from the road ahead and followed his line of sight towards the man on the river bank. She stiffened, her lips forming a hard line as she stared at him. “No one,” she murmured, but Bucky wasn’t entirely certain that was the truth.
He could feel his body gravitating towards hers protectively, his shoulders rolling back and his chest puffing out to make him seem more like a threat. He did all in his power to radiate “back off’ vibes, but he wasn’t sure how successful he actually was.
Successful or not, the naiad stayed away, opting to simply watch them as they passed.
They followed the river the rest of the way until it fed into the Acheron before stopping. 
Hades stood at the river’s edge, the water just barely missing her toes where they sat. She looked up at Bucky. “Well, I guess this is your stop.”
Bucky didn’t want it to be, but he said, “Yeah, I guess it is.” He looked down with a frown.
As if sensing his dismay, Hades sighed and dug into her pocket. “I cannot believe I am doing this,” she muttered, pulling out a small leather pouch. Bucky watched her with curiosity as she fiddled with the straps and held it out to him. “Here.”
Bucky took the pouch and pulled it open. Inside there lay about two dozen brown seeds, none of which Bucky recognized. His brows furrowed. “What are these?”
“They’re Asphodel seeds,” she answered, shifting her weight. “They’re what I use to get to the Underworld. You plant one, and a hole will open up for about thirty seconds. Jump in, and you’ll pop out here with only a flower in your stead. You’ll be deposited back into the Asphodel Meadows, but you’ll still be down here.”
Bucky stared at her, dumbfounded. “Wait, you mean you’re just giving me a key to the Underworld?”
“Yes I am, but don’t make me change my mind.” She rolled her eyes. “This is simply because I don’t want you hurting yourself trying to find a way in. And just because I gave you a way in doesn’t mean you can come down every day. You only have so many seeds and each is good for a one-time-one-way trip. There are no do-overs nor repeats, you hear?”
“I hear.” He smiled softly down at her. “Thank you, Hades.”
“(y/n).”
He blinked. “Excuse me?”
“My name. It’s (y/n). You keep calling me ‘Hades.’ No doubt you got that from the myths too, but that’s just the name the mortals gave me. (y/n) is my true name.” She shuffled her feet anxiously, but Bucky couldn’t have been happier.
He didn’t know why, and perhaps she didn’t either, but she was opening up to him. It made him happy, and he figured that if she was willing to share something, he should too. “Then my name is Bucky. Only my mother calls me ‘James.’ To everyone else I’m Bucky.”
Her nose crinkled. “Bucky? Where the Hades did they get that from?”
“My middle name: Buchanan. I know it’s a little weird, but it’s the most familiar name to me. James just feels so formal and uptight; I’d much rather be Bucky.”
“Bucky,” she repeated, testing out the syllables on her tongue. “Alright, Bucky it is.” She straightened up and smiled at him, holding out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky. My name is (y/n), goddess of the dead and Queen of the Underworld.”
Bucky took her hand, a matching smile adorning his face. Her hand was cold as death, but he didn’t care. The warm feeling the contact brought to his chest was worth it. “It’s my pleasure, (y/n). I’m Bucky, god of spring. I hope we can get along and be friends.”
“Yes… Friends… I think I could get used to that.” She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Then, until next time.”
“Until then.” Letting go of her hand, he pulled away and mounted the ferry that had come to take him home. His eyes never once left her, not even when the boat pushed off and into the river. He only lost sight of her when he crossed over into the Mortal World and a wall of mist and fog separated them. He sighed as she vanished, turning to the ferryman—Phil Coulson, he thought was his name.
Phil looked down at him sympathetically. “You’re never going to stop coming down, are you?”
“No, I don’t think I am.” Bucky smiled softly up at him. “I guess you’ll be seeing me a bit more often now.”
“Oh joy. Yet another god I have to deal with.” Phil rolled his eyes. “I just hope you’re less of a pain in my ass than the others.”
Bucky chuckled. “I will do my best to be better than them.”
“Then we’ll get along just fine.” Phil smiled as they came to the mortal side of the Acheron and stopped at the bank. It was dawn now, the sun was just barely rising above the horizon.
Bucky frowned in confusion. “Morning already? It was night when I left and I know I wasn’t down there for that long. How is already morning?”
“Time seems to flow faster works in the Underworld,” Phil said as he tied the ferry to the land. “They say that death feels like nothing.” He pulled the ferry to a stop in the Mortal World and turned to Bucky. “You take care of yourself, godling.”
“You too, Phil.” Bucky stepped off the ferry and appeared again just outside the field where Steve and Sam should’ve been sleeping. He had to be quiet. This early in the morning, his friends were easily aroused and he didn’t want them to know he’d left.
Bucky had teleported right behind a tree where he had a full view of the field. Steve and Sam should’ve been sleeping in the middle of the meadow, but there was one body missing. Bucky frowned and crouched down. Where was Steve? Did he get up early? Oh shit, did he notice that Bucky was missing? Bucky held his breath as his eyes scanned the field, searching for his friend desperately. 
“Looking for somebody?”
Bucky nearly screamed. He turned around, probably white with fear.
Steve had his hands on his hips and was glowering down at his best friend, his eyes intense and slightly pissed. “Where were you?”
“I… Uh…” Bucky had to lie, and lie now. “I went down the mountain to the village.” 
“No, you didn’t. I checked there. I checked the whole island.” Steve’s glare only intensified. “Now, where were you?”
Next 7: Her Thoughts Conflict
704 notes · View notes
almost-jack · 3 years
Text
Sex, Drugs,&Space Chaos Ch. 2 (A Smutty Handsome Jack Adventure)
FInd more chapters on my AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/27921886/chapters/68380147
P.S. I friggen love comments, indulge me y’all
Chapter 2: A Push, a Pull, and a Twist
Rei arrived at Jack’s office promptly at 5. The room was enormous, with Jack’s desk at the far end on a raised platform in front of three massive windows overlooking a vast expanse of black space speckled with shimmering stars. Rei couldn’t help but smile to herself upon seeing the room; of course Jack would rule Hyperion from a stage.
Jack was lounging, feet up on his desk and a cigarette dangling between his fingers. A pair of unfamiliar people, clearly not Hyperion employees, were seated in front of him, drinks in hand. Jack was talking animatedly to a tall, lanky young man with slicked back hair and a cybernetic arm who was hovering at his side. This looked like less of a company meeting and more of small soiree, but Rei wasn’t complaining. Jack called out to her as she approached.
“Ah, good!  Tiny cartel boss, meet the vault hunters. Vault hunters, tiny cartel boss,” he said cheerfully.
Rei decided to ignore the jab about her height and flashed him a crooked smile, relieved that he seemed to be in a very good mood.
“Is that my new title? I dig it,” she mused. Jack winked at her appreciatively.
“Have a seat. Rhys, pour our friend here a drink. What are you drinking, sweetheart?”
“Uhh whiskey neat, I guess,” she said, lowering herself into a chair. The tall man nodded and descended the steps of the platform to rummage around in Jack’s mini bar.
“This is your ace-in-the-hole, Jack? Really? She’s gonna get killed real quick down on Pandora,” growled a huge, muscular, bearded man with excessive cybernetics seated next to her. A tall, regal looking black woman dressed in a white fur lined coat leaned against his chair, eyeing Rei with equal skepticism.
“That’s why, Wilhelm, my dear, she’s not going down there to clean up that bandit filth. You are. You’re the brawn, she’s the brains. You clear the way and Rei will do the rest,” said Jack.
“You know, uh, I grew up on Pandora. I’ve held my own in more than a few fights,” Rei said with a hint of indignation in her voice. Her hand subconsciously drifted under her lab coat to the holster on her hip. She had decided not to take any chances and come armed with a pistol.
Jack’s eyebrows shot up.
“Hmm, is that so? There was nothing in your file about Pandora…”
“I’m sure you realize there’s a lot about me that’s not in Hyperion’s database. Besides, it’s not exactly something I advertise around Helios. People seem to have a lot of… misconceptions about Pandora. Thanks,” she said, taking the drink that Rhys handed her. “So what exactly is it that you want me to do for you?”
Jack grinned and took a drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in a crystal ashtray.
“So-ho-ho much, cupcake,” he said with a chuckle. “Let’s start with mining the hell out of that shithole planet Pandora. We’re going to gut it and pull out all the Eridium until it collapses in on it’s stupid little self, and you’re going to oversee it. Then you’re going to take all that sweet, sweet Eridium and figure out a way to charge me a vault key. And all those little bandits your lab buddies drugged and tortured until they became psychos? I want some of those, too. But obedient. I swear I’ll shoot them right between the friggin’ eyes if any of those little monsters so much as looks at me wrong. But that comes later.”
“And what about the moral implications of, you know, torture and destroying a planet and all that…?” asked Rei, peering at him over rim of her glass.
Jack looked at her blankly for a moment, then broke into peels of laughter.
“Really? Really? The ex-Pandoran drug lord is questioning my moral integrity? Or are you getting cold feet, here?” he said, cackling.
Rei wasn’t questioning Jack’s moral compass so much as trying to discern if he actually had one. She concluded that…well she still had no idea, not that it mattered much. Over the years Rei had learnt and re-learnt the same lesson; survival first, power second, morality…whenever it was convenient. It was how the Borderlands worked.
“So I’ll take that as permission to do whatever I need to do.”
“You’ve got a free pass, run wild! And kitten, I really can’t wait to what happens when I set you loose. All you have to do is sign-” he motioned towards Rhys, who pulled a piece of paper from a folder under his arm.  “Here,” said Jack, pointing to a blank line at the bottom of the page.
She liked the sound of that…complete freedom to do whatever questionable project her heart desired was all she had ever wanted. She took a sip of her drink feeling more at ease with Jack, optimistic that this situation might actually turn out well for her. Rei picked up the contract and began to skim it.
“Don’t bother reading it, cupcake. You either sign, or I give you a ten second head start before I start shooting,” said Jack, reaching for his own drink.
“Jack, darling, are you quite sure she’s trustworthy? Wilhelm and I have already proved our merit. Don’t you feel compelled to test our new comrade?” asked the expensive looking woman.
“Aurelia, your concern is adorable, really, it is,” Jack said, flashing her a charming, well-practiced smile. “But you don’t need to concern yourself with anything other than getting paid.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, frowning.
“Speak for yourself,” grunted Wilhelm.
“So,” said Jack, pushing a pen towards Rei, “what’s it gonna be, darlin’? Are we going to be buddies, or do I need to blow your brains out?”
Rei couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Oh wow, thanks for the ultimatum. I’ll need a minute to think about that one,” she said sarcastically, picking up the pen.
“Ooh, mouthy. Very, cute, kitten,” he said, sneering down at Rei as she signed the contract. “Ok kiddos, now that you’re all acquainted, you’ve got work to do. Off you go,” said Jack, waving a hand towards the door.  
Aurelia reached out and straightened Jack’s collar before giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“Do be careful, dear. I would hate for anything else to happen to that handsome face,” she cooed. She turned and followed Wilhelm out. Rei put her glass down and turned to leave as well.
“Ah-ah-ah. Not you, Rei. We’ve got a couple more things to discuss,” Jack said, eyeing her with a wolfish, almost hungry expression.
“Yes sir,” she said, taking a seat in Wilhelm’s recently vacated chair. She noticed that Rhys remained quietly behind Jack, watching her with a hint of concern.
“Rhysie, go get me a sandwich,” Jack said, without turning to look at him.
Rhys paused a moment, looking at Jack wonderingly, then shrugged and left.
As soon as the metal doors slid shut behind Rhys, Jack stood and rounded the desk. He perched on the edge directly in front of Rei, legs spread wide and arms folded over his puffed out chest, obviously trying to intimidate her.
“Aurelia’s got a point, kitten. How do I know you’re trustworthy?”
“Well I did just sign a binding contract under threat of death, so there’s that.”
“Is it really enough, though? Don’t think I didn’t notice that you showed up armed, today.”
“But sir, you’re always armed. Can you really blame me?”
Jack leaned in, his face less than a foot from her own.
“So what, you were going to shoot me if I scared ya? Nah. You wouldn’t dare,” he said, reaching out to cup her chin. He tilted her head up, exposing her neck to him. Rei didn’t resist, partially out of fear…but more so because something hot and dangerous was brewing deep in her stomach.
“No, sir. I wouldn’t shoot you. I don’t think that would be in my best interest,” she said softly.
“Good,” he said with a chuckle. Jack grabbed her by the lapels of her lab coat and pulled her out of her chair, forcing her to stand between his legs. He lowered his head to her neck and brushed his lips against her jaw, making her shiver slightly. Rei could have sworn he was inhaling her scent like some sort of animal.
“I like you, Rei. I don’t want to have to get rid of you. Don’t make me do that, ok?” he murmured in her ear.
“You like what I can do for you. You barely know me,” corrected Rei, putting a hand on his chest and trying to push gently away from his grasp, but Jack didn’t yield.
“Do you always get so hands-on with your employees, or am I just lucky?” she quipped sharply, pushing against his chest in earnest. Jack let go and sat back, leaning on his hands.
“Sorry pumpkin, did I misread the situation? I thought we had a fun little thing going. I’m attractive…you’re attractive…You seem kinda into me. Your little neck would fit so perfectly in my hand,” Jack extended a large hand towards her neck, but paused, letting it fall back onto the desk. He began to drum his fingers impatiently against the dark, polished wood, clearly displeased with being forced to practice some self control.
“But we can keep this strictly professional if you want,” he said, a hint of irritation in his voice.
“Hmm. Not sure, boss. First you don’t trust me, then you want to fuck me…I think you need to make up your mind,” Rei said, dropping her hand from Jack’s chest to his thigh. She slid her hand slowly up his leg, inching closer to the subtle bulge growing under his zipper.
“Since when are those two things mutually exclusive?” Jack purred, tucking her long, chestnut hair behind her ear to reveal a thick, silver cuff in her cartilage. He grinned and tugged gently on the loop of metal, leaning in so his face was inches from hers.
There was a sudden thunder of gunshots outside Jack’s door, followed by screams. Jack jerked back, looking around wildly, then reached for the intercom next to his computer, slamming his fist down on the call button.
“RHYS! What the goddamn hell was that?!” he growled.
“Jack, you better get out here…we’ve got a situation,” Rhys’ panicked voice crackled over the intercom.
“Wait here, kitten,” he said, standing and attempting to adjust himself to hide his growing erection. Rei took a step back to let him pass, snickering to herself.
“I promise this is going to be far less funny to you later,” Jack said menacingly, towering over her, nearly a foot taller.
“Sure. Go get ‘em tiger.”
Jack glared at her for a moment, then turned on his heel, sprinting across the enormous room and through the great metal doors. Rei waited a moment, then quietly followed, stopping at the doorframe to peer at the commotion outside. There, in the middle of the hallway, stood a burly man in a Hyperion guard uniform, an enormous machine gun in one hand and Rhys’ neck in the other.
Rei’s stomach sank; the shooter was one of her plugs, specifically Ian Lynch, who she had instructed to watch her back since discovering Jack’s intense interest in her. But what the hell had happened? Some of her distributers were thugs, sure, but they knew better than to get violent inside Hyperion headquarters.
Jack advanced on the man slowly, gun drawn, face twisted with rage.
“Don’t do anything stupid, asshole… That’s Hyperion property you’re screwing with.” he snarled.
“Hah! You’re not as ruthless as they say, Jackie boy, otherwise you would have just shot me already and let this twerp take a bullet to the head. You’re all talk, ain’t ya?” said the assailant.
Jack looked like he was seriously considering doing just that, gun aimed at the man’s head, but his finger was absent from the trigger.
Rei stepped out of the office, striding quickly down the hall.
“LYNCH. Drop him. Now,” she commanded, drawing her own gun from it’s holster.
“There you are, Barrett, you fucking weasel. I’ve been waiting for you,” he hissed.
“You know this guy? And Jesus fucking Christ kid, didn’t I say to wait in my office? You’re gonna get sh-“
“If it’s me you’re after, then what the fuck are you doing, Lynch?” asked Rei, cutting Jack off.
“I caught him eavesdropping, he was recording near your door” choked Rhys. Lynch gave him a hard shake.
“Shut up. Yeah, I was listening in on your little meeting. Sorry to interrupt just as you were about to let Handsome Jack bend you over his desk, bitch, but this little shit came along and blew my cover. Wasn’t gonna shoot anyone today, but he kinda gave me no choice. Little shit came at me with a stun baton.”
“So let him go and tell me what you fucking want already,” huffed Rei.
“I want the two of you,” he said, jerking his head toward Jack and Rei, “to stay the fuck away from Pandora. I don’t give a fuck what you do to your Hyperion lackeys- drug ‘em, torture ‘em, I don’t care- but you’re not getting anywhere near my people and you sure as hell aren’t taking over my planet. So I guess what I’m really saying is that I want you both dead.”
“A small time drug pusher with a hero complex. Cute,” said Rei smarmily. Jack stared at her, eyes wide with surprise.
“He’s one of yours?”
“Not my best and definitely not my brightest, but yeah. He seems to be forgetting that he agreed to sell some pretty dangerous shit to people on Helios just so I would get him off Pandora. Ease up on Rhys’ neck, or you’re gonna kill your only bargaining chip, Lynch,” Rei said, noticing Rhys squirming and struggling for breath as Lynch’s grip tightened in irritation.
“Alright, enough of this,” said Jack impatiently. He flipped on his cloaking device and vanished.
“STAY BACK! I’M FUCKING WARNING YOU, JACK!” Lynch shouted, looking around wildly. Rei took advantage of the distraction and hurled herself at Lynch, knocking both him and Rhys to the floor, just barely keeping her own footing by landing in a cat-like crouch. There was a sickening crack as an invisible force came smashing down on Lynch’s wrist, forcing him to release the gun. He howled in pain as Jack reappeared above him, kicking his gun across the hall. Jack aimed his own weapon at Lynch’s groin, a manic gleam in his eye.
“That’s better. Now let Rhysie go or I’ll shoot your fucking dick off.”
Lynch stared venomously at Jack for a moment, then loosened his grip on Rhys, allowing him to pull away and scramble to his feet.
“Good. Hand over that recording and I won’t torture you to death. I don’t really care if your little bandit friends know we’re coming for them, but I’m not ready to make that announcement just yet. I wanted it to be special,” Jack said with a mock pout.
“Why the fuck would I do that? Let’s be honest, Jack, you’re just going to kill me anyway,” spat Lynch, attempting to sit up on his elbows.
“You’re wrong,” said Rei, planting a boot on either side of his hips and crouching down so their faces were level. She placed the muzzle of her pistol gently between his eyes and leaned closer to whisper in his ear.
“I am going to kill you.” Rei pulled the trigger. The crack of gunfire resonated through the empty hall and a spray of crimson droplets spattered Rei’s face and lab coat. Lynch slumped back in a pool of his own blood and brain matter.
Jack stood motionless, mouth slightly agape, staring at Rei.
“That was…oh my god…so fuckin’ hot, I mean, I can’t even-“
“He’s wearing a wire. It’s still transmitting to somewhere…somewhere nearby,” interrupted Rhys.
He had pressed himself as flat as possible against a nearby wall, as if trying to make his lanky form disappear into the metal. He took a shaky step forward, gingerly rubbing a blossoming bruise around his neck.
“I picked it up with my Echo eye. Couldn’t figure out why that guy was lurking around Jack’s door, so I gave him a scan. Where are you going?” Rhys said, noticing Rei slowly backing away.
His Echo eye sparked to life and raked over her, his mouth falling open in surprise. The receiver for the wire was nestled in Rei’s pocket.
“Oh. Oh shit. You? Why?”
“WHAT DID YOU DO?” snarled Jack, stomping over to her so he could make the vast difference in their sizes all the more evident as he loomed over her. She looked up at him wearily, realizing the jig was up.
“I…gave it to him. I told him to tail you and try to get something… to blackmail you with… in case I didn’t like the terms of your deal,” she mumbled sheepishly.
“So why was he here now? Couldn’t you just record me yourself?” asked Jack in a low, dangerous hiss, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“I asked him to watch my back. Like I said before, it really wouldn’t be in my best interest to shoot you. But…Lynch could have easily done it and left Helios for a while, if need be.”
“You really are a fuckin’ weasel, you know that? Give me one good reason not to shoot you right now.”
“Jack, she just helped you save my life…” muttered Rhys.
“She’s also the one who almost got you killed.”
“Look, I’m not sorry for protecting myself, but I honestly didn’t mean for Lynch to do a damn thing at all unless- SHIT, OW!”
Rei cried out as he roughly grabbed both of her wrists with one large hand, hoisting her arms above her head, forcing her to drop her gun. He pulled her up until the steel toes of her boots barely brushed the floor and gently placed the barrel of his gun under her chin, tipping her head up to look at him, all the while crushing her wrists in his powerful grip.
“JACK! Knock it off! Come on, you need her, remember?” Rhys protested, loudly and firmly this time.
“Yeah, you need me,” Rei hissed.
Jack glared at her furiously as he gave her wrists a twist that made her whimper, then lowered her slowly.
“Congrats, sweetheart, that’s strike three. First you use my company to run your little drug ring, then you try to blackmail me, then you try to kill me? Looks like you just earned yourself an early ticket to Pandora. Normally I’d toss you in a holding cell and let you rot there until I need ya, but I don’t trust that you’ll be a good girl if I let you out of my sight. So you’re taking Rhysie’s place and coming with me to help take care of some business. So glad you’re not shy about murder. Hopefully you don’t have to kill anyone you know, but… I wouldn’t count on it,” he purred, his voice dripping with honey and poison as he gave her wrists another twist.
Rei shoved a knee into his groin, not hard enough to hurt him, but with enough force to serve as a warning. Much to her surprise, she felt him half hard inside his jeans. He was clearly enjoying menacing her. Rei pressed a little harder and his cock gave an interested twitch under her knee, sparking a twisted pang of lust in her stomach.
“You want a mountain of dead bandits? You got it boss. Nice rage boner, by the way,” she snickered. Jack released her and stepped back, adjusting himself once again to hide the bulge in his pants.
“Don’t push me, cupcake, I think it’s evident how much I want to break you right now. You’re on the next shuttle with me to Pandora, pack your shit and be at the departure terminal in two hours. Rhys, you keep an eye on her, I’ve got shit to do. Oh, and give me that,” he snarled, thrusting a large hand roughly into the pocket of her lab coat and rifling through it. He pulled out the receiver and a small joint, inspecting them both, then dropped the receiver and smashed it under the heel of his shoe.
“What’s this?” he said, waving the joint in Rei’s face.
“Just plain old weed. Take it, on the house. I can’t think of anyone who needs to chill the fuck out more than you, right now,” she said brazenly.
“So help me god, I am going to…”  Jack mimed strangling the air in front of him.
“My point exactly.”
He made an aggravated noise in the back of his throat and stomped back down the hall, leaving Rei eyeing Rhys suspiciously while he uncomfortably shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“Sorry about him. It’s really hard to calm him down when he gets like that,” Rhys said with a weary sigh.
“Nah, I would be pissed, too, if I were him. I would have kept monitoring him if I hadn’t been caught, and maybe not entirely for safety’s sake. If I have to destroy my home planet, I want to make sure I’m getting my fair share of the reward,” she said shrewdly.
“Well he shouldn’t have put his hands on you, at least. He can really do some damage if he’s not careful.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” said Rei, examining the angry red fingerprints around her wrists. “You seem to know him pretty well. What exactly are you to Jack? Personal assistant? Babysitter?”
Rhys laughed weakly. “Technically I was a middle management coder, but Jack took a special interest in me because…well, not to brag, but I’m a pretty great hacker,” he said with a hint of smugness. “So now I’m kind of…his protégé, I guess? But lately he’s been using me as an assistant because he freaking killed so many that no one wants the job anymore. He’s such a big, murderous baby sometimes.”
“Volatile psychopath is more like it.”
“Hah, yeah. You know…and don’t quote me on this because he’s pretty hard to read… but I think Jack was really disappointed about the whole blackmail thing. He seemed to really like you, kept talking about plans for his promising new “lab nerd”, and uh… something about bending you over his desk and uh…Well he was pretty excited that you weren’t a dude. And that you’re one of us,” Rhys said with a wink.
“What do you mean?”
“You know, attractive. In the 8 and up club. Grade A, Hyperion made.”
“God, you really are his protégé,” Rei said, picking up her gun and returning it to her holster.
“Hey, those are his words, not mine. You got a little something right here,” Rhys said, pointing to his cheek. Rei dragged her already bloodstained sleeve across her face, adding more crimson to it.
“Better?”
“You kinda just smeared it around…here.” Rhys wiped her cheek with the back of his hand, pausing just a moment too long before breaking contact. Rei raised an eyebrow and he blushed slightly.
“So, uh, we better get going,” he said, avoiding her gaze.
“Yep. Clearly I need a shower. Come on, Jack junior, let’s roll,” she said, taking off down the hall, Rhys hurrying after her.
16 notes · View notes
mysterioh · 4 years
Text
ticket to my heart || b.b.
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Cop!Reader
Summary: Bucky tries to flirt his way out of a speeding ticket. Unfortunately for you, it’s working.
W/C: ~2500 words
A/N: Written for the lovely @honeyvbarnes​ writing challenge. I know I’m a bit early but I just couldn’t wait! Hope you like it and Happy Super Early Birthday!
Warnings: Mild Language, Sad attempt at trying to be flirty.
Masterlist
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“Why did you have to pick the bushes?” Sam whined, “I hate the bushes.” 
You take off your helmet, shaking your head gently to free the strands sticking to your face. You look over to your partner-in-justice and can’t help but crack a smile. His thick, muscly arms were crossed against his chest, lips contorted into a disappointed pout that was too cute for words with chocolate brown eyes shooting sharp daggers in your direction. 
“C’mon, Sammy, it isn’t so bad,” you give him a lopsided smile. “You look like a pretty fairy princess.” 
“I’m a cop,” he bites, you hold back the urge to laugh but end up snorting instead. He rolls his eyes. The dense foliage you were hidden behind rustles in the rushing wind that comes with the cars zipping by the highway. 
“Why is it always the bushes?” he asks exasperated, letting his hands fall to his sides, “I hate bugs.” 
“Because,” you reached back and started to feel around in the compartment of the bike, “this is the only spot on the highway where we’re invisible,” you reminded, lips curling into a smile while pulling out your radar. “I hate it when they slow down when they see us.” 
Sam clicks his tongue then chuckles, “you’re brutal.” 
“I’m doing my job,” you pointed the radar at an SUV driving by. You scoffed, grudgingly at the driver’s adherence to the speed limit. 
“Holy crap!” Sam yells, jumping back in his motorbike, “it’s a spider!” 
You turn to him. “Where?” you asked, looking around. 
“Are you blind?” he hissed, pointing at the handle of his bike. “It’s right there!” he shouted, obnoxiously loud. “Kill it!” 
There’s nothing there!”  
“Yes it is!” he insisted, “Oh my God, it’s moving!” he cried, squirming away from the front of his bike. 
You lean over to get a better look and spot a tiny —minuscule, baby, small, microscopic— spider sitting on the handle minding its own business. 
You glare at him judgingly, but he doesn’t notice by how freaked out he is. You flick it away with a finger as if it was nothing and return to your work. Sam lets out a deep sigh of relief.
You roll your eyes while checking another car. 63 mph. So damn close. “You’re such a coward,” you grunted.
“Am not,” he retorted sharply. 
“Are too,” you bit back. 
“That thing was huge!” he defended. 
You aim the gun at another car when he starts to ramble about how much he hates the bushes. 
You whip your head back to him. “Dude it was this big,” you measured with your fingers, “Stop being so—” you cut yourself off when a flash of white flashes in the corner of your eye.
“Whoa,” Sam gaped.
“Officer,” you called, pointing the radar at the speeding car. Sam can hear the wicked grin in your voice. 
“Yes, officer?” he replies, all teeth and gums. 
“What’s the speed limit on this stretch of the highway?” you asked. 
“Sixty-five miles per hour,” he informed. 
“Now correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t seventy-nine bigger than sixty-five?” you asked, showing him the radar. 
Sam looks at you with the most despicable look plastered on his face. He takes his helmet and slips it on. The engine of your motorcycle whirls and you flip on the emergency lights. 
“This is gonna be fun.” 
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“I can’t believe you overslept!” Steve screamed into Bucky’s ear. Bucky moves the phone away from his ear. You could’ve heard Steve’s voice from a mile away. “Today’s the biggest deal of our lives and you’re not even here! Tony’s flipping out and I’m hiding under my desk because he’s throwing shit around.” 
“Tell him I’ll be there in five minutes.” 
“Five minutes my ass!” Steve hisses, “Where even are you?” 
His grip on the wheel grows tighter, mentally preparing himself for the blond’s impending and inevitable outrage. “On I-95, around exit forty,” Bucky replies cautiously. His ears started to ring at the sound of Steve’s ear-piercing screams and a distant siren coming closer as the seconds pass by. 
God no. Please, anything but that. 
He begins to slow down and turns to see who it is. He knows who it is. He’s had a run-in with the police more than once and he’s got a stack of speeding tickets to prove it.
Sam’s motorcycle comes up to his right and tells him to pull over. Bucky has a strong urge to just ignore him and speed past them. The possibility of losing his job was making him sway in his morals. 
He could do it and might even make a getaway. Hmm….
Yeah, he’d do it, if he wasn’t such a damn coward.
“Steve, I’m gonna put you on hold for a second,” He pulls over to the side.  
“NO, don’t put me on hol—” his voice cuts off when Bucky taps it anyway. He smirks at the screen of his phone. 
A tap comes at the window and he turns to come eye to eye with an officer. Not the guy, but a girl. 
Holy shit, she’s pretty. 
You tap the window again this time a bit harder and he breaks out of his trance, scrambling to push the button for the window. 
“Hi there,” you greeted with a smirk, prim but cocky. 
Scratch that, she’s hot. 
“H-hello, Officer,” he stutters. 
“Nice car you got here,” you lean back a bit to get a better look at the car. 
“M-Mercedes, miss,” he replies. 
You revert your gaze back to him and it sends sweet shivers down his spine. 
“Yeah?” you asked. He nods with a gulp, You let out a breathy chuckle, finding his timid behavior oddly cute. “Well Mr. Mercedes,” you sassed, “this ain’t the Autobahn, it’s a shitty highway to New York.” 
“Really? I didn’t notice,” he retorted with a grin. Your lips twist into a scowl and Bucky gets the feeling you are not amused. He panics on the inside. 
“You know the speed limit around here?” you questioned. 
“Uh—well, um,” he stammers for a few moments. “Seventy?”
You roll your eyes at him, shifting your stance onto one leg with one hand hugging the curve of your hip. “It’s sixty-five and you were running at seventy-nine. This ain’t the Daytona 500, kiddo.” 
“Yes, but you see,” he replies, “I’m actually late—”
“The law is the law,” you stated, “and everyone follows it. Now I’d like to see your registration, license, and insurance,” you extend your hand towards him.
He quickly turns and opens the glove compartment of his car and pulls out all of his papers and hands it to you. 
“I’ll be right back,” you grunt as you walk back to Sam and your motorbike. 
Bucky hits his head against his steering wheel and lets out a distressed exhale. 
This is it. He’s definitely fired now. You’re definitely going to give him a ticket. Steve and Tony are going to hate him. He’s gonna be dirt poor because he lost his job and nobody wants to hire a guy who can’t even wake up on time. He won’t be able to pay that ticket and then he’ll have to go to court. And the pretty cop is gonna be there, smiling at him all sweet as they drag him off to jail. 
Bucky’s head snaps up when he hears his phone ringing beside him on the seat. He picks up the phone call from Steve. 
It’s Tony.
“BARNES WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!?!” he shouted. 
“I’m-uh-,” he scratches his head. “On the way.” 
“On the way to where?” he hurls at him, “Mars?” 
“No, to Stark Industries,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I got into a bit of a bind, the cops pulled me over for speeding.”
“You’ve gotta be joking me,” Tony replies, sounding like he’s on the verge of crying. “I’m ruined. I’ve got a meeting with Pym Tech in ten minutes and my numbers guy is nowhere to be seen. Do you realize how much you’ve hurt me right now? You broke my fucking heart.” 
Bucky rolls his eyes. 
“Do something and get the hell out of there,” Tony ordered. 
“I can’t leave until they let me.”
“No one said you couldn’t.”
“No! Don’t do that!” Steve butts in. 
Bucky looks out the window and sees you checking his information. He pays close attention to the way your hair shines under the sun and how your rather modest uniform makes you look exceptionally hot. 
“But y’know,” he talks into the speaker. “She’s one cute officer.”
Tony snorts, “Yeah? How cute?” He was never one to not discuss women, even in the middle of a crisis. 
“Real cute, but hot at the same time,” Bucky replies. 
Steve snatches the phone from Tony, “Buck, don’t do anything stupid,” he ordered, knowing the way Bucky did things when it came to the ladies. 
“Too late,” Bucky smirked, hanging up on Steve. He throws his phone back onto the seat watching the way you strut towards him. Confident but elegant. 
“Everything’s good here,” you handed him his papers and he smirks. “You’ve got quite a history, Mr. Barnes.” 
“I’m bad with time,” Bucky said, “Always running late. Never late to a date though.” 
“That’s nice,” you reply in passing, filling out the ticket paper. 
“So…” he draws your attention towards him. His arm rests along the length of the window, making it hard for you to not notice the way his lean muscles stretch his shirt. “I don’t suppose there’s a way I can bribe my way out of this?” he asks innocuously, tracing his finger along the metal symbol on the steering wheel.   
You snort, returning to the notepad in hand, “For all the money you could bribe me with, you could just pay for the ticket.” 
“I wasn’t talking about money, Officer,” he smirks when you look over at him. 
“And what do you have in mind?” you jest just to see where this will take you. 
“I’m thinking, me, you, and a really nice cafe on the fancier side of New York.” 
You pause your writing and look over at him and raise a brow. His crystal blues eyes glimmer under the sun, pooling with harmless playfulness. Taking a closer look at him, you have to admit he’s kinda hot.
You shake your head, lips curling into a lazy smile, fingers returning to writing. “Nice try, but I’ll pass.”
Bucky slumps over his car and frowns. 
“What? You thought you were the first person to ever flirt with an officer?” you cackled, “it happens more often than you think.” 
“Thought I’d try anyway,” he says and shrugs. 
“I admire your honesty,” you compliment him. 
A soft smile spreads along his face. 
Get a hold of yourself, officer.
“So how about a date and a ticket?” he bargains. 
“You want a date with the chick that gave you a ticket?” you elaborated, a chuckle coloring your words. 
Bucky notices the soft pink dusting your cheeks and it’s immensely satisfying. “I mean if it’s someone as pretty as you, I’d be stupid not to take the chance.” 
You stop writing to clear your throat, the blush on your cheeks reaching your ears. “And what makes you think I’ll say yes?” you countered as coolly as possible. 
He shrugged, “I don’t think. I just hope?” he says sweetly. 
You smile at him for a second then shake your head. “Sorry to bring your hopes up but I’m not allowed to affiliate with others during work hours. So that’s a no from me,” you replied sternly, a bit harder than you wanted it to sound. 
“Damn,” he frowns slightly, “bad day for me I guess. I’m late for a meeting, possibly going to get fired because of it, and got two no’s from the pretty officer,” he lists on his fingers.
You huff, feeling unwanted compassion for the brunette. Usually, you weren’t this soft, but this guy had a charm to him that others didn’t. Damn bastard. This better not come to bite you in the ass later. 
“Alright, I’ll let you slide,” you give in, unwillingly. “Just this once.” 
Bucky grins from ear to ear making one creep onto your own. 
“But if I ever see you speeding again, I won’t be so nice and neither will anyone else,” you warned playfully. “So mind the speed limit please.” 
“Yes, of course.” 
“Have a nice day, Mr. Barnes,” you walk away but he calls you back. 
“Don’t you think I deserve a reminder of some sort?” he asks, faux innocence lacing his tone. “So I don’t speed anymore?” 
You turn back and smirk, feeling like you know what he’s talking about. “Like what?”
“Your number maybe?” he wonders, practically hanging out of his car. 
“My number?” you asked in mock confusion and a chuckle. “Now how would that help? I’m not allowed to do that.”
“A little rebellion never hurt anyone,” Bucky tempted with a sultry smile. 
“I won’t tell a soul, I promise,” he smiles. You’re unsure. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” he pledges with an action. 
You return to him with a chuckle and pull out the notepad. “I guess I can do that,” you nodded. Bucky quietly cheers to himself as you scribble something down. You rip out the piece of paper and hand it to him with a smile. Your fingers brush against his, firing goosebumps against his arm. His eyes look up to meet yours, sparkly under the sun. 
“Have a good day, Mr. Barnes,” you say, walking backwards to your motorcycle, almost bashfully. 
You get on your motorcycle and ride away with Sam. Both giving the brunette a wave before leaving. A few miles down, Sam finally asks: “You didn’t actually give him your number, did you?” 
You laughed, loud and bright. He doesn’t understand what’s so funny.
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Bucky exits the conference room. The meeting was a success and Pym Tech agreed to the deal for the new set of tablets Tony designed. Tony slams a hand on his shoulder. 
“Great work in there,” he cheers, beaming from ear to ear. 
“Thanks,” Bucky smiles. 
“So how’d it go with the officer?” he asks. 
Bucky laughs heartily and shakes his head, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I-uh- got her number,” he told him. 
“That’s great man!” Tony congratulated before being pulled to the side by one of the others. 
Bucky walks on towards his office digging his hand into his pocket. A pink scrap of paper twists through his fingers and he roars in laughter, startling those around him. He pulls it out just to admire your pretty handwriting.
911 
p.s. ask for the police. 
Guess that’s three no’s from the pretty officer. 
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PERMANENT TAGLIST: @dancingunicorn113​ @marshyrebelcloud​ @chuckennuggets1213​ @miraclesoflove​
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victimeyez · 3 years
Text
Buck and Fletcher 2: Electric Boogaloo
Fanfic for @knivestothroats In The Woods Somewhere - click for masterlist
This one is actually so long I had to break it into parts, tags will be listed at the beginning of each chapter for the chapter, and links to the other parts here:
Part 1: X Part 2: X Part 3: Here Part 4: X Part 5: X
Buck becomes the unwilling guinea pig for the trainees while Fletcher is away.
Tags: Captive whumpee, multiple whumpers, intimate whumper, suggestive behavior/jokes, electricity torture, graphic depictions of torture, the trainees are super fun to write, bondage, being dragged/manhandled, gags, not medically accurate don’t @ me
Buck did his best, but he was easily captured by Petrova and the others. He screamed into his pillow while they bound his arms behind him, tape wrapped in a thick layer from his wrists to his elbows, wrenching his shoulders back painfully and holding them there. 
Scared, angry tears wet the pillow beneath him as he sobbed. As ridiculous as it was, all he could think about was how incredibly betrayed he felt. He had asked Fletcher nicely, Fletcher had agreed, locked him in, and then...what, gave them the key anyways? Fletcher could do whatever they wanted to to him with absolutely no repercussions, why even bother lying to him? Whenever he thought he might have a clue about Fletcher, they turned around and confused him all over again. Buck seemed to always be wrong about them - and it always got him hurt.
Dayal finished binding him, straddling his ass in the bed and enjoying the humiliating position a little too much. He ground his hips against Buck’s ass, making the prone man whimper into his bed.
“Come on Buck, don’t you wanna play?”
Buck felt hands sink into the mattress on both sides as Dayal leaned in, nuzzling into his hair, before Petrova swatted him.
“No time for that, we have experiment to do.”
Dayal chuckled but pulled away, hopping off Buck.
“Another time then, if you’re lucky.”
“Gross,” De Luca commented helpfully. 
“Shut up and help me.” 
In their greatest display of teamwork yet, they dragged a squirming Buck out of the room and all the way into the kitchen.
Buck was already getting tired from fighting, but his vigor renewed when he saw the car battery on the table.
He almost got away for a moment, trying to scramble to his feet to run, but a hard kick to the crotch brought him back to the ground.
“Nice,” said Petrova.
“Thanks,” O’Connor replied, a little proud.
They cuffed him to one of the sturdier wooden chairs, sat beside the car battery on the table. A pair of metal clamps were already attached to the battery, the other end resting on a ceramic heat pad, the kind you put a hot pot onto so it doesn’t damage the table. Buck almost laughed at the absurdity, but was quickly distracted by De Luca putting on a pair of thick gloves.
“Okay Buck, we are going to shock you now, and you tell us how you feel, okay?”
“Start low, if we start too high he won’t be any good for us,” O’Connor instructed, flipping open a small notebook and producing a pen.
De Luca picked up the clamps, opening and closing them absently for a moment in thought.
“Should we put a wallet in his mouth or something? Can’t he bite his tongue?” 
“Eh, I think that’s for seizures,” Dayal replied.
“What’s the difference?” Perova interjected, her eyebrows quirked.
“You know, you’re not actually supposed to put a wallet in someone’s mouth if they’re having a seizure? You’re just supposed to hold them still on the ground and like, cradle their head, kinda.” O’Connor mused, nibbling the tip of her pen.
“Well, if he bites off his tongue, Fletcher might get mad.” De Luca looked at Buck seemingly deep in thought. 
“I think we should do it just in case, just when I’m shocking him.”
“Well I’m not putting my wallet in his mouth, he’ll drool all over it.”
“Dayal could volunteer his dick,” De Luca mused, and Dayal flipped him off from across the table.
“Just use a dishcloth or something, let’s do this.” Perova sounded exasperated. 
Dayal hopped up and grabbed the dish towel from the handle of the oven, holding it taught between his fists like a garroting wire as he walked towards Buck, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
“Open up, Buckaroo.”
Buck, who had largely been in shock, finally started to process what was about to happen and moaned in fear as Dayal approached.
“No, please, come on - did Fletcher put you up to this? You can - can’t you look this stuff up online?!”
He resisted opening his mouth for Dayal, who shrugged to their little audience before freeing a hand, pinching the soft spots of Buck’s jaw in one hand to force it open. Buck hissed in pain but couldn’t resist, and as soon as his mouth cracked open Dayal stuffed it full of dish towel until he gagged.
“You’ll keep that there if you know what’s good for you.”
Buck just moaned, tears trickling down the sides of his face. His mouth was stuffed too full, his teeth forced apart, and it hurt his jaw. He tried to move it a little with his tongue to a more comfortable position, but it only made him choke.
“Start low, only like, 9 Volts.” 
O’Connor scribbled it down, and looked up expectantly at De Luca, who adjusted the voltmeter.
Buck screamed into his gag when De Luca held up a knife, but he just rolled his eyes and split Buck’s shirt down the middle, exposing him. With his shoulders forced back, Buck was arched forward, and he felt unbearably vulnerable.
Dayal picked up the clamps, touching them together to produce a small spark that made Buck flinch.
“Uhh...take one, I guess.” He touched the clamps to Buck’s chest and he jerked, forcing out a cry into his makeshift gag, and after a moment the clamps were pulled away. Dayal pulled the gag back out, letting him take in a shaky breath.
“How did that feel? Also, on a scale of one to ten, how much did that hurt?”
Buck flexed his sore jaw, trying to will his frantic heartbeat to slow.
“Come on Buck, don’t be a bitch about it.” De Luca rolled his eyes.
Buck stayed silent. He didn’t want to participate in their little experiment any more than he already had to.
Petrova tapped her fingers on the table impatiently.
“You know Buck, if you not tell us, then we can skip to higher voltages.”
Buck swallowed, his mouth impossibly dry.
“It was...uncomfortable, not so much very painful but very...unpleasant,” Buck closed his eyes, fighting back a sob.
O’Connor scribbled down a note and then looked up, nodding to De Luca. 
“Let’s try 12 next.”
Buck opened his mouth to protest, but Dayal took the opportunity and stuffed the towel back in. De Luca adjusted the voltage again and pressed the clamps to Buck’s chest with little flourish. 
Buck jolted hard, squeezing his eyes shut hard. Every muscle in his body tightened painfully and buzzed, and there was a hot pain where the clamps touched him. When they pulled away and the towel was removed, he opened his eyes again, blinking painful tears from them
“How did that feel?”
Buck’s body felt weak and twitchy. It was deeply uncomfortable, and he pressed his feet hard against the floor just to try to get some feeling in them.
“Buck.”
“Tingles...tingly? It hurts….my muscles are going...weak.” Trying to talk made his teeth feel like they were buzzing.
He could hear O’Connor’s pen scratching across the paper.
“And on a scale of one to ten?”
“Could I get some water?” His mouth was so dry.
“One to ten, then you can have some water.”
“Ten like….worst pain ever?”
O’Connor tapped the end of her pen against her lips. 
“Hmm...ten like, I would tell you anything you wanted to know to get you to stop.”
“Ten.”
De Luca snorted and Petrova rolled her eyes.
“Ten like, I’d rather get stabbed than do that again. And that is real choice,” Petrova offered. 
Buck shut his eyes tight until he thought he could see little flashes of light behind them.
“F...five, maybe?”
Petrova nodded and a cup of water was tipped to his lips, making him splutter at first before he drank deeply. He emptied it and whined when Dayal took the cup away.
“You’ll get another once you take 120.”
De Luca prodded at Buck’s chest with a gloved finger, making him gasp in pain.
“He’s pretty pinked here, a decent burn. Might blister.”
O’Connor nodded and wrote some more on her pad, before flipping to a new page.
“Let’s jump to 30, I don’t want this to take all day.”
Buck fought the gag again, but didn’t have much strength and Dayal got his way even easier than before.
“Take three.”
~
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