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proserpina-magnus · 3 years

Note

Can you do a young sirius black x reader fic where sirius and the reader are supposed to go to hogsmeade but the reader is having a depression episode

Thank you so much for this request, I absolutely can write a blurb(fic) for this! xoxo, I hope this helps!!!

One where you have a depressive episode [ Sirius Black ]

Word Count: 1.4k

[ Warnings: gender neutral reader, mention of triggers (nothing described), mention of depression, slight mention of nsfw (very brief), use of the word "pup" ]

You feel a type of dread fill in your stomach, wanting so desperately to get up and move. Your mind didn't care, holding you hostage with no motivation. Your dorm mates had already left, they all dressed in clean clothes and brushed teeth. They offered for you to join them, but you only let out a small; "Nah". Without much of an argument, they left you alone.

You remembered your date with your boyfriend, hoping he would just leave without you and hang out with his friends. Though, your wishes weren't compliant as you heard a loud knock on your door.

"I'm coming in. Please be naked," Sirius hopes with a laugh, usually his funny comments would make you laugh. You watched as Sirius walked in, his head peeking through the door with his hand over his eyes. You pull the covers closer to your body, watching as Sirius wiggles his fingers so he can look between them.

"Why are you still in bed! We're going to miss our date," Sirius exclaimed, walking in as he peered around your dorm. He closed the door behind him, making his way over to you.

"I'm not feeling well," you explain loosely, not given much of an indication of what part of you wasn't doing well. Sirius frowned, placing the back of his hand on your head.

"You don't feel warm, do you want me to take you to Madam Pomfrey?" Sirius asked, sinking onto his knees. He brushed some of your hair away from your face, waiting for your answer.

"No Sirius, not that kind of sick." You drawled, feeling some sort of embarrassment. You didn't want him to see you like this, though Sirius was too clingy not to tell.

"What kind of sick? Like you have a headache? Because surely madam Pomfrey has a potion for that," Sirius suggested, but you only rolled onto your back and stared up at the hanging curtain.

"No, like my mind is sick. I just don't want to do anything, 'm sorry," you apologize, feeling guilty for keeping him away from a Hogsmeade trip. Sirius fluttered his eyes, clueing in on what you meant.

"Oh pup, no need to apologize. Has this happened before?" Sirius asked, moving to sit on your bed. His knuckles rubbed your cheek, pinching it gently to get you to smile. Usually, it would make you giggle, but you only gently slapped his hand away.

"Few times, but I'm okay, go to Hogsmeade without me," you declared, taking in a heavy sigh. Sirius tilted his head, much like a confused dog.

"It's no fun without you, I'd rather stay here and hang out than go alone," he interjects, standing up. You give him a look, ready to protest but he only shakes his head and places a finger to his lips.

"Shh, just shhh," Sirius said, you go to say something again but he only moves his finger to press over your lip. "Shh,"

"I'll be right back pup, 'gonna go get some things to make you feel better," Sirius explains, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "But Sirius-"

"No buts, just stay here and look as beautiful as always," Sirius winked, skipping out of the room. You let your eyes closed, waiting for him to return.

You must have fallen asleep waiting because Sirius had gently woken you up with soft head pats. You blink your eyes open, looking towards your desk. Your desk is filled to the brim with all sorts of stuff, making you lean on your elbows to see what it is.

"How did you carry all this?" You asked, confused as you saw things range from Gatorade to a cute octopus plush. "I have my ways," Sirius shrugged, a smirk on his lips.

You pointed to the octopus plush, hoping Sirius would understand. Sirius had known, he leaned over to grab the plush and passed it to you.

"You can turn it inside out," Sirius explained, watching as you turned it around. The once yellow happy octopus turned into a frowning blue one. You raised your eyebrows, looking over at Sirius for an explanation. "He's unhappy,"

"Yeah, James suggested it to me. I want you to use this to explain to me how you're feeling," Sirius said, a sheepish grin on his face. "We don't have to use it, but if you like it and want to use it, we can,"

"No, I like it. So, whenever I'm...like this, I'll just turn it to the blue side and you'll understand?" You asked, playing with the plush as you squeeze it between your hands. Sirius nodded.

"Yes. If you're comfortable, can you just tell me some of your triggers so I can try and prevent this from happening?" Sirius asked, grabbing one of the Gatorade bottles as he opened it. He passed it to you, letting you take a drink before answering.

You told him some of your triggers, him being encouraging the whole time and thanking you. You smiled, feeling safe. You drank half of the Gatorade but felt your stomach pinch for food.

Sirius picked up on your expression, turning to the desk of stuff as he rummaged through it. You noticed his jumper, one of your favourite ones. Sirius turned around, one of Remus's chocolate bars in his hand.

"Did Remus let you take this?" You asked, Sirius made a shrug and a 'pshhh' sound. "Who cares. He'll understand, it's a dire situation. Now eat,"

You opened the chocolate bar, breaking off a piece as you held it out for Sirius. The raven-haired male only shook his head, curls shaking with his movement.

"You eat first," Sirius explained, his hand coming to rub your cheek briefly. You nodded, bringing the piece to your mouth as you chewed. It melted instantly, filling your mouth with a delicious taste. You instantly broke off another piece, doing the same process as the first one. Sirius watched with loving eyes, he felt a sense of proudness for you complying and eating.

Once you got through half of the chocolate bar, you passed a piece to Sirius. This time, he gladly excepted the offer. He groaned, flopping against your bed beside you. "Moony's chocolate is so much better when you take it without his permission,"

You laughed at his comment, letting him take another piece. Once the chocolate bar was finished, Sirius chucked the wrapper in the garbage. He rummaged through the pile of stuff again, finding some of Peter's exploding snaps.

"Wanna play?" He suggested you felt much better than you had at the beginning of the morning. The chocolate must have helped because you sat up and nodded.

"Only if I can wear your jumper," you negotiated, making eyes towards the jumper. Sirius chuckled, grabbing the jumper as he casts a small warming spell. You pulled the jumper over your head, feeling warmth and love. "You look so adorable, darling,"

"Oh shush, are these even your exploding snaps?" You asked, seeing Sirius look up with wide eyes and a guilty expression. He waved it off, shrugging as he distracted you with more compliments. "Look at your cute cheeks, I could just eat you up,"

"Sirius, who did you take this from?" You asked, brushing his hands away from you. Sirius shrugged, sitting on the chair. He passed you half of the exploding snaps, you watched him throw one to the ground, a loud snap appearing.

"It's only Peter, he won't care, he'll probably think he lost them," Sirius smiled, hoping to charm you over. You responded by throwing one of your exploding snaps. You both continued for a good while, snaps and crackles were the only exchange of words. After you both ran out, Sirius looked towards you with the most genuine smile he could produce.

"I care so much about you, I know I can't take this pain away from you. But if I could, I would. There isn't much I can do, but I'll try and do my best to make it bearable." Sirius said in a comforting tone, he meant it. You could almost see some tears in his eyes, but you distracted him by opening your arms for a hug.

Sirius instantly jumped from his chair to your embrace, wrapping you in his arms. His face buried into your neck, holding you in fear that he would lose you. You rest your head onto him, feeling his fingers rub your back. Sirius didn't care if he missed a Hogsmeade trip, he cared more about your security than he did about a silly date.

#james & peter & remus & sirius #sirius black #marauders #young marauders #young sirius x reader #young sirius black #young peter pettigrew #young remus lupin #sirius black x you #sirius black x gender neutral reader #sirius black blurb #sirius black fluff #young sirius imagine

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a-n-conrad · 3 years

Text

Dinner With May (PS4!Peter Parker x Reader)

[Summary: After the events of the PS4 Spider-man game, you find yourself and your boyfriend, Peter, having dinner at his aunt’s house. For some reason, Peter seemed even more anxious than usual. It wasn’t until you overheard a conversation between him and his aunt that you figured out why. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: PS4 Spider-man spoilers, not canon compliant, marriage/proposals, anxiety

Request: From my request survey (https://forms.gle/LbodcqZ7nxfGbNW96)]

It had been a chaotic month for you and Peter. Peter had been working almost nonstop as Spider-man, having to fight all of his biggest villains along with his mentor and the man that his aunt worked for, two men that he looked up to and trusted. He had been hurt fairly badly at certain points, and you had to patch him up when he did.

Not to mention, at one point Dr. Octavius had released a plague onto New York in an attempt to get revenge against Norman Osborn, and for the few days after that, you were helping Miles Morales and Peter’s Aunt May work to help all the people at the F.E.A.S.T. center that were going there for shelter as the city descended into chaos. By the end of it, May had gotten sick, Peter had broken multiple bones, and you and Miles had been almost killed a few different times. Peter was barely able to save May in time, and the clean-up still wasn’t done, but you guys were finally able to take a day to relax.

May had noticed that the two of you had been working nearly constantly, so she had invited the two of you over for dinner. May was a sweetheart. And she was an amazing cook, too so you were relatively excited to get to sit down for a nice meal with Peter and his aunt.

She was making your favorite, which you had told her a thousand times she didn’t need to do. But she was insistent. At this point, she switched between cooking your favorite meal and Peter’s every time the two of you went over for dinner.

You didn’t get the chance to go over to her house as much as you would like. You were busy enough with your job, and most nights Peter was gone before dinner to go stop crimes throughout the city. So more often than not, you were on your own for dinner, grabbing something quick from a shop that does takeout on your way home from work late in the evening.

But you had taken the day off of work to finally get a chance to relax, and you had insisted that Peter do the same, despite his protests that he was “totally fine” and “couldn’t take a day off”. Eventually, you had to get Miles to promise that he could handle one night on his own and that he would call Peter if anything came up that he needed help with. He was still pretty new to everything, but he could manage the petty crimes on his own.

- - - - -

The sun was already setting by the time the two of you got to May’s house. It had taken you almost an hour to get Peter out of the apartment that you shared, between him needed to call Miles to check-in and him nervously trying to make sure that he remembered everything. He apologized profusely for the entire trip over for making you late, and you spent the entire time trying to convince him that he didn’t need to apologize.

He had finally calmed down a bit by the time you got to his aunt’s house. He was always pretty anxious, especially when he wasn’t in his Spider-man suit, but somehow he seemed extra nervous tonight. You wondered if maybe his mental health had been suffering lately, after everything that had happened. You had to admit that you were starting to get a bit worried about him. You knew he could take care of himself, but sometimes he just didn’t. He had this bad habit of sacrificing his health and safety for the people around him and you were worried that he was doing that again.

So you hoped that dragging him to a nice dinner with his aunt would get him to take a bit of time for himself. She had been trying to get him to take better care of himself for as long as you could remember, so maybe she could do something to help convince him to take a few days to himself every once in a while. You didn’t want to make it seem like you were ganging up on him, but you had almost lost him a few times in the recent past and you weren’t ready for that.

“So which one of us do you think is going to insist on doing dishes after dinner first tonight,” You asked, your tone a bit teasing as you tried to lighten the mood a bit and distract Peter from his anxiety.

“Hmmm,” He pretended to think about it, the way he usually did when you teased him and he decided to play along, “Probably you, since you always seem to beat me to it.”

“Now that’s not true,” You place your hand over your heart in mock offense, like one of the ladies in a Victorian Era period drama, “I let you do the dishes on my birthday.”

He shook his head and chuckled a bit at that, before finally knocking on the door to his aunt’s house.

She opened the door with a smile on her face and the smell of amazing food wafting out of the kitchen. She greeted you each with a hug, letting you into the house like it was your house too. She had tried to convince you that you didn’t need to knock, but you insisted. You got a bit anxious when manners were in question. Maybe your anxiety was part of the reason that you and Peter worked so well together.

“It’s so nice to see you two,” May said as the two of you walked into the house. Her eyes almost started welling up with tears as she looked at you and Peter. Peter had officially revealed his identity as Spider-Man to her in the heat of everything happening and, while she had known the entire time, she had been incredibly worried for his safety with everything that was happening.

“It’s nice to see you too, Aunt May,” Peter almost melted as he walked into the living room. The tension seemed to drain from his shoulders as he looked at his aunt and took in the fact that she was safe, “How are feeling?”

“Just fine, Peter,” She said, her voice kind and reassuring in the way that you knew would calm Peter’s nerves a little, “I’ve been recovering pretty well, and it helps to get a day off to rest.”

You could tell that the last sentence was a little pointed, not in a scolding way, but instead in the way your mom did when she knew you hadn’t had any water all day. With a bit of teasing but mostly with care and concern for your wellbeing. And you could tell that he could hear it too by the slightly sheepish look that crossed his face.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re doing well,” You responded, unable to stop the smile from crossing your face. It was always kind of cute to see him come back home. You got to see him in a lot of different lights, as Peter Parker the scientist, the photographer, the awkward date, and of course, the city’s hero. But despite all of these different personas, you had to say that Peter Parker, the doting nephew was one of your favorites, “Thank you so much for inviting us over.”

“Of course, dear,” She turned to you with the same soft smile on her face, “You know you’re always welcome over, I’m just thankful that you managed to convince my nephew to take enough time off to come to visit me.”

You chuckle a little at that, “Of course, May. You know he’d come visit more if he wasn’t so busy with trying to stop every crime in New York.”

“Oh, I know. And I appreciate you looking out for him, dear.”

- - - - -

Dinner was nice. One of those moments that you wished you could freeze in time. You were warm and your stomach was full and you were smiling the entire time. It was the first time in a long time that you were pretty sure that nothing bad would happen for at least the next hour. You got to be domestic for just a little while, safe and happy and surrounded by the love of your life and his family.

“Alright, I’ll get started on the dishes,” You said when the meal ended, shooting a wink at Peter as you stand. May shot you the same exasperated look that she always did, but let you take her plate. She had given up on trying to stop you a long time ago, realizing that you would insist no matter what she said. Peter just chuckled a bit, remembering your conversation from earlier.

Doing dishes alone in the kitchen was nice sometimes. It was a moment for you to collect yourself. You loved May and Peter, and you didn’t mind spending the whole night with them, but sometimes a few moments of quiet was nice. The smell of the food still wafted around you, and the sound of the water rushing from the sink made you think of a waterfall sometimes, even though doing the dishes wasn’t exactly the most enjoyable chore.

Sometimes, if you focused, you could still hear the conversation that was going on in the dining room. You didn’t intend to eavesdrop or anything, you were just curious. Usually, they’d just alk about F.E.A.S.T. or maybe reminisce about when Peter was a child. It was just nice to listen in a bit on their small talk, getting to know what Peter was like with just his aunt and no one else around.

Today’s conversation was a bit different, though.

“So have you asked her yet, Peter?” You heard Aunt May ask, piquing your interest.

“No, of course not,” Peter sighed, “With everything that’s going on, all of the clean-up throughout the city, there really hasn’t been a good time.”

“I suppose that’s fair, Pete, but you’re going to have to ask eventually. Unless you don’t want to,” You were sure they were talking about you, but you weren’t quite sure exactly what he was planning on asking you. Well, maybe. But you didn’t want to assume. You didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“I do! I really do,” Peter responded, almost outraged at the idea that he didn’t actually want to ask, “I just want it to be perfect. And you know we’re so busy. This is my first day off since everything went down with Mr. Li, so I hardly have time to plan a romantic dinner.”

“Peter, you don’t have to plan out the perfect romantic dinner, I promise.”

“But what if she says no,” He sighed, sounding defeated, “It’s dangerous to be with me. I could put her in danger. And even if I don’t, what’s going to happen when she gets sick of having to take care of me? It’s not easy to deal with me running off all the time and coming back with cuts and broken bones.”

“No, it’s not easy,” May sighed, “But she’s been here for this long. She knows what she’s getting herself into, and she’s stayed this long. Has she ever asked you to stop what you were doing or to choose between her and Spider-man?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Then she’s not going to,” May explained, and you couldn’t help but nod, even though neither of them could see you, “She’s chosen to stay this long. If she was going to leave, she would’ve done it by now.”

There was a silence creeping out of the dining room as the conversation paused. You wondered if he believed it. Because May was right. It was hard, and you worried almost constantly about Peter, but you loved him. You loved him no matter how many dates he skipped out on to go fight crime or how many nights he woke you up at two in the morning to help patch him up after a fight. And you weren’t going anywhere.

The air felt heavy, and you felt your heart tighten a little. You knew Peter was a bit insecure and anxious. You knew that sometimes he didn’t feel good enough, he was overwhelmed and he felt as though the world was on his shoulder. But you had hoped that he knew that you would never think that he wasn’t good enough.

You weren’t quite sure what to do, but you couldn’t let him think like that. Before you could even think of a plan, you were walking into the dining room.

“Oh, uh, hey,” You could tell by the look on Peter’s face that he knew that you had heard their conversation, “How much of that could you hear?”

“All of it.”

All three of you froze for just a moment, before May stood up, “Well, why don’t I go finish the dishes while you two talk.”

“Peter, you know I’m not leaving, right?” You asked, sitting next to him as May walked out of the room.

“I know,” He sighed, “I just… You deserve so much better. I’m kind of a terrible boyfriend, (Y/N). I’m not super reliable, and I know I stress you out.”

“I’m stressed because I care about you, Pete. I love you and you’re constantly putting yourself in danger, but I understand it,” You explained, grabbing his hand on the table, “I love how much you want to help everyone, and I’ll always be here when you need me. I don’t mind if you have to run out on dates, because I know you still care. And you’re not a terrible boyfriend. You’re an incredibly caring person with the world on your shoulders, and you don’t have to do that alone, Pete. I’m right here, and I’m going to stay right here.”

You could see tears welling up in his eyes like he had been waiting for years to hear that. And maybe he had. You squeezed his hand lightly, hoping to reassure him a little. He looked up at you, looking at you like you were the only person in the world. Like if he had to trade the moon and all the stars in the sky to keep you safe, he would. Like you were the only thing that has ever and would ever matter.

“I love you, Pete,” You whispered, hoping it would finally get through to him.

“I love you too,” He replied, you saw his hand slip into his pocket, his fingers nervously fidgeting with something. You could tell he still had something on his mind, and you were pretty sure you knew what it was, but you didn’t want to push him. He’d ask when he was comfortable and you didn’t want to push him before that, “You heard the whole conversation, right?”

“Yes.”

“So, I’m sure you already know what I have to ask,” He sighed, sliding out of the chair and down to one knee, verifying your suspicions, “I wanted this to be more romantic, but, uh, well…”

You nod. You had a feeling he had already rehearsed the speech he was about to give at least twenty times, so you weren’t going to interrupt him, but you wanted to signal that he should keep going.

“(Y/N), I know it’s not easy to be with me. I’m flaky, I stay stupid stuff half the time, and I’d never wish the pressure of dating a superhero on anyone. But through all of this, you’re here, and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He took a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t know if I could do what I do without you. You make me feel like the weight of everything I do isn’t as much as it is. And you give me something to go home to, somewhere safe and warm. (Y/N), you’re my lifeline through all of this mess, and it would be the greatest honor of my life if you would marry me.”

You’re crying so hard by the end that you don’t even notice the ring he pulls out of his pocket. You’re too busy trying to look him in the eyes through your tears, “Of course I will.”

You dropped down to hug him, and he pulled you as close to him as he could. It was a firm hug, and you could tell he was focusing really hard on not squeezing too tight. So you hugged him tighter. You staying like that for a few moments, soaking his shirt with happy tears, before he pulled back from the hug to grab your hand and slide the ring onto your finger.

“Congratulations,” May interrupted from the doorway, a wide grin on her face and proud tears in her eyes, “Now what do you say we have some cake to celebrate?”

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

#ps4 spiderman #ps4 peter parker #spiderman #peter parker #spiderman x reader #Peter Parker x reader #PS4 pater parker x reader #ps4 spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel x reader

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misteria247 · 3 years

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Life in a village was a very familiar and boring thing you'd learned growing up. From the moment you were born, you had known nothing else but the village and its way of life. From the hot sun of the savanna hitting your back to the tiny huts that held your fellow villagers. All of these things were things that you knew and grew up with, the same routine everyday for as long as you could remember. A boring routine that you'd come to somewhat dread if you were being honest with yourself, however despite being old enough to leave the village you felt you couldn't. You knew nothing but the stories told of the world outside your village and you'd come to be somewhat anxious at the thought of leaving your home despite how bored you'd become. Plus you had another reason for staying in the quiet, sleepy village. Your beloved father, the chief leader of the village needed you. The two of you took care of one another, and you couldn't imagine life without him being somewhere nearby you.

So you stayed, doing your daily routine that had long since grown stale. You'd wake up and feed your livestock and then help your father and fellow villagers with whatever they needed without compliant. Though sometimes when night fell and you were alone with your thoughts you couldn't help but wish for something to change. For something exciting to happen to your usually mundane existence. However once those thoughts came through you quickly dismissed them not wanting to dwell on such things. After all you had your place among the village and even though it was dull you loved your home and the peace that you'd grown up in.

But what you'd failed to realize was that peace didn't last forever.

It'd been just another day for you. You'd woken up with the rising sun and went to feed your livestock before cleaning up and making breakfast for you and your father. The smell of food cooking had awoken him just as it always did and he'd sat down at the table to eat his meal. The two of you spoke about the errands that needed done when your father had let out a small coughing fit. You gazed at him in concern but he'd waved you off saying that it was nothing. You hesitantly let it go despite the unease you'd felt whenever you'd heard him cough. After you two finished eating you put the dishes away and giving your father a goodbye kiss on his cheek you left your hut and went to start your day. It was around mid day when you'd received the news. You'd been helping one of the older villagers with their garden when your father's adviser came running towards the hut, kicking up dust from behind him.

"Lady (Y/N)! Thank the gods I'd found you-!"

The adviser said in between pants. You stood up from your crouched position, wiping your hands off on your dress, a confused look on your face.

"What's the matter? You're practically out of breath-"

You'd started to say before you were interrupted by the adviser.

"It's your father! He's collapsed!"

The sentence sent an icy chill into your veins, your heart stopping for a moment.

"What?!? Take me to him now!"

You commanded already picking up your bag and ready to go. Everything after that was a blur to you. You followed the adviser back towards the place where your father was. Bursting into the hut you felt your stomach twist into knots when you took sight of him. Your father laid in bed, his skin pale and clammy. His breathing was wispy and rattling slightly as he struggled to breath. Whenever he'd gotten enough air he'd cough, the sound making your heart drop as you realized that the little coughing fit from this morning had gotten worse. The healer was with him, his withered face filled with a solemn look. You could barely process what he'd told you afterwards. Just bits and pieces of the conversation sticking to you like leeches onto your skin.

Severely sick, no known cure, doesn't have much time left.

It was a nightmare. A horrible nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. After you'd dismissed the healer and your father's adviser you'd took over taken care of your father. You refused to leave his side, staying with him all throughout the rest of the day and night. Whenever you weren't with him you searched for a cure to his illness. Soon that day turned into days, then days turned into weeks. The longer time passed the more bleak your father's fate became. With each passing day he grew worse and the healer as well as yourself were at a loss of what to do. So you turned to your father's sacred library and opened the ancient tomes to see if you could find anything, growing more and more desperate for something. Anything to save your beloved father. It was then you'd stumbled upon the legend, one that had been told for generations.

The kingdom of the Afterglow Savanna.

It was said that those who lived there were full of magic and had an abundance of healing herbs and other medicines. Those who sought help for illnesses and other things would go to the people of the land and seek guidance from them. However the land had vanished, no trace of the Afterglow Savanna remained and after many centuries passed the kingdom had been nothing more than a myth. A story told to children before bed or at campfires surrounded by companions. But now.....now you couldn't help but consider it as a possible route to check out. As you closed the tome again you heard your father's raspy rattling cough, the sound making your heart break slightly. Your father was running out of time.

'If there's even a small chance of this place being real.....if there's even a small chance that I can save my father.....then I'll take it. I won't know unless I try.'

With a newfound resolve you began to pack. You grabbed everything you deemed necessary, from the ancient book about the kingdom to food and water. Once your knapsack was full you wrote a note to the healer and the adviser, letting them know that you would be gone for a while and for them to keep an eye on the village. Once written and placed on the desk you silently made your way towards your father's bedroom. You took in the sight of him, his clammy skin and swallow breathing. With quiet steps you made your way to his bed and bent down to give him a kiss on his feverish forehead, fighting the sudden lump in your throat.

"I'll be back papa. I'm going to save you, no matter what. Just please.....hang on. I love you....."

You whispered softly to his unconscious body. With a great amount of effort you pulled yourself away from him and left the hut and disappeared into the night. You passed by all the homes that held your villagers before finally hitting the edge of the village. You stopped for a beat, sudden anxiety hitting you as you realized what exactly what you were planning to do dawned on you. For the first time in your life you were going to leave the village. The only home you'd ever known. You had no idea how you were going to do this, and for a brief moment you considered turning back around and forgetting this whole thing. Then you thought back to your father, remembering how he was before getting sick. You remembered how healthy his (S/C) skin was before it'd been pale and feverish. How the sun hit his hair that he braided with beads and other things and how his (E/C) hues sparkled with pride and love whenever he'd see something you'd accomplished. Your father who raised you when your mother died, your father who was the most important person in your life. Your father who was currently dying from an illness that had no known cure.

'If I turn around now then papa is going to die. I can't let that happen. Come on (Y/N), you can do this. You're the daughter of the greatest chief this village has ever known. A bloodline that is fearless. You can do this, it's in your blood.'

With a deep breath and with a straightened posture, you braced yourself and stepped out of the village line and made your way into the dusty lands that laid ahead of you. With a determined fire burning within your (E/C) eyes you started your journey.

You would save your father.

Even if it killed you.

*..........Hehehehe I know I've got several other things going on in the world of writing but......I couldn't help myself. I'd had this idea in my head for a bit on and off and I'd decided to write something for it. It's not really good but I enjoyed writing it! My thought process was along the lines of this: Princess from a small village goes on a life changing journey to save her father whose been affected by an unknown illness. Along the way she meets a few companions (cough Leona, Ruggie, and Jack) who all are searching for the kingdom of Afterglow Savanna for their own reasons. Possible romance between the two main characters (cough you and Leona). That's all I got so far shdhdhdhg. Anyways I don't know if I'll continue this but I hope you like it! Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!*

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fanfic-corner · 3 years

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Hi! One of my best friends came down with a stomach bug and isn't feeling to well. Do you have any fluffy fic's I can recommend to them? Thanks!<3

Oh, I’m sorry, I hope your friend gets better soon! These are just a few of my favourite fluffy fics, including some sweet Christmas related ones. Hopefully this is enough to keep your friend entertained until they get better!

Now Everything is Easy 'cause of You by chai_lattes on AO3. (1,353 words).

Tags: Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Jack Kline’s Parents, Fluff, Sharing a Bed.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Cas reflects on being human, being happy, and being a morning person.

absurd in the best way by clasch (@good-things-do-happen-dean) on AO3. (669 words).

Tags: Fluff.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Castiel tries to make a pie for Dean.

Snow Place Like Home (But My Home Is With You) by almaasi on AO3. (47,814 words).

Tags: Alternate Canon, Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Sam Ships It, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel’s First Christmas, Bed & Breakfast, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Smut, Marriage Proposal, POV Alternating.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: It’s Christmas Eve, and Dean, Sam and Castiel are snowed into a small town with a big festive spirit. They splurge on a fancy room in a B&B – hey, they deserve a treat. There’s a tiny plastic tree and a working TV, so they could perhaps overlook the lack of hot water and Dean having to bunk with Sam. Sleeping arrangements soon reach a happier equilibrium: Dean’s just cuddling Cas to keep him warm, he swears – the tingly feeling means nothing! Christmas Day arrives, and Cas still doesn’t have a gift for Dean. Dean doesn’t know what to give Cas, either. Sam has a few ideas, but will the other two truly understand what he means?

The Story of You and Me by the_diggler on AO3. (54,935 words).

Tags: Romance, Fluff, Domestic, Future Fic, Amnesia, Sexual Content, Bottom Castiel, Switching, Tattoos, Case Fic, Thriller, Drama, Angst, Surprise Pairing, Season 8, Canon Divergence.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Dean wakes up in bed next to a very human Castiel, and a journal in his own handwriting that tells him it’s two years in the future. The house looks a lot like Bobby’s, and Sam lives there too… He just can’t remember how they got from angels falling in the sky – to comfortable domesticity. While there is much in the journal Dean doesn’t remember, there is much of their story he’s always known. And as he settles into the routine of his new life and relationship with Castiel, it quickly becomes something he doesn’t know how to live without.

Boneless Wings by PallasPerilous on AO3. (4,333 words).

Tags: Crack, Wingfic, Domestic Fluff, Angelic Lore, Canon Compliant, Dean Winchester is So Done, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: For those of you perving along at home, Dean could absolutely provide a list of the hundred or so ways that having a boyfriend with giant fucking actual wings is super hot and/or awesome. This is not that list.

The Tea is Decaf by mnwood on AO3. (3,673 words).

Tags: POV Castiel, Fluff, Sign Language, Castiel in the Bunker, Canon Compliant, Sharing Clothes, Asexual Castiel, Gentle Dean, Non-Explicit Sex, Domestic, Established Relationship.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Based on this text post from thebloggerbloggerfun: “Listen, imagine Eileen sneaking out of Sam’s room at night to go to the bathroom or something and steps out into the hallway in one of Sam’s shirts only to see Cas trying to quietly leave Dean’s room while wearing one of Dean’s shirts and they both just stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before trying to muffle quiet laughter and now they have a late night club where they talk about life and gossip about the Winchesters in sign language"And this anon I received: "what if Eileen and Cas discover there are some things Sam and Dean both do in bed because Dean jokingly gave Sam pointers when they were younger and Sam took the advice”.

The Angel Cake Challenge by almaasi on AO3. (8,132 words).

Tags: Canon Universe, Fluff, Romance, Team Free Will 2.0, Day At The Beach, Mistaken For A Couple, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Food as a Metaphor For Love, Public Displays of Affection, Pet Names, Endearments, First Kiss, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Closeted Dean, Coming Out, No Prior Knowledge of Good Omens Needed.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: There’s a kooky gay couple sitting in this little beachside bistro, at the table next to Dean. Dean’s biggest mistake was telling them they looked cute together. Now they’ve noticed Cas, and they’re silently encouraging Dean to be as openly affectionate as them. Dean didn’t sign up for this challenge. But now? Hell, he’s in it to win it.

Once Upon a Time in a Disney Store by noxsoulmate on AO3. (23,237 words).

Tags: Disney, Castiel Works in a Store, Uncle Dean, Mary is Dean’s Niece, Fluff, Adorable, Awkwardness, The Little Mermaid, Christmas Fluff, Meddling Kids, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Marriage Proposal, Prince Dean, Prince Castiel, Weddings, Ice Skating.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: When Castiel Novak gets sick and loses his voice for a few days, he comes up with a clever trick to explain his lost voice to the kids in the Disney Store he works at. One little Mary Winchester, however, takes his note too serious and promptly starts a quest for his prince. Will her charming uncle be able to break the curse and be his one true love?

#ask and you shall receive #fic recs #destiel #ineffable husbands #fluff #spn #fanfiction

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mvnvgedmischief · 3 years

Text

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter: 4/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse

words: 3. 8 k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Sirius knew that work was going to be high stress all day. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about the way he would continuously have to talk to people, when all he wanted was some peace. He wanted downtime. Time when he didn’t have to think about how he needed his paycheck to put food on the table, clothes on his brother’s back, pay bills to keep his lights on, wifi for homework. Regulus occupied his thoughts at all times, protecting him was Sirius’s only priority these days. He didn’t have time for anything else. Not his friends, not his interests, not music. Nothing could come between his focus and his brother’s wellbeing, because if it did, Sirius would never forgive himself. The consequences were too dire. So instead, he just wished for downtime that wouldn’t come, and prayed for the weekend to approach even faster.

The weekend, when he could finally sleep again, albeit not well. The weekend, when he had the time to take a breath, even if it was only brief. Because his weekends were also spent finding ways to better equip his apartment for his younger brother, going to long grocery runs so Regulus had lunch to take to school, meal prepping all of the things he couldn’t bring himself to eat for dinner. He was definitely tired of all of the ways his mind was spiraling out, he didn’t have the time. He didn’t fault Regulus for it, it wasn’t the teen's presence in his life that was causing all this stress. It really was his own fault. A bit of crying at that first hearing had given Walburga and Orion the satisfaction of a victory over him at that first hearing, and they seemed to crave more of that chaos. They wanted to watch their children suffer, and this was how they chose to do that. So instead he spiraled in the privacy of his own home, because he could practically hear the words they burned into his mind whenever he saw them, and feel the ache of old beatings.

But it was only Thursday, and that meant he still had to do this all day, and then get berated by the rest of the team for not attending their weekly bonding happy hour. If he was lucky, no one would ask him to go. He knew he should be less terrified of them asking, most of the people on his team were his friends. There was simply the question of Remus, and Sirius didn’t have the time to be thinking about him in the first place.

He didn’t have time to think about the way his hair curled just the right way to fall into his eyes when he slept, or the way his caramel freckles made him look sunkist. He didn’t have time to think about the pink scars that ran down Remus’s face or how they got there. He definitely didn;’t have time to think of the comfort of his hand combing through Sirius’s own mop of unruly curls. So instead, he needs to put all of that out of his mind. It wasn’t going to help him do well at work. It wasn’t going to solve his problems. He didn’t have the time for this, nor did he have the emotional bandwidth. Perhaps that was why Sirius was conveniently avoiding the idea that he had asked Remus on a date. With some luck, Remus would think he was just an asshole who ghosted him. That was definitely complicated by the fact that they worked together, that he couldn’t just disappear. He wanted to, he really did, because there was simply no time.

He set up his deliverables as though he had made tons of them, because his employment in this company rode on it. Just two months ago, he was pegged to be promoted within the next two cycles, and now he could barely hold on to his sanity enough to handle his workload. He was so fucking tired, and he had so much on his plate. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the long day of meetings ahead of him. He had no true motivation to do his job right now, all he knew was that his exhaustion was no excuse. He knew that his boss, Alice, was giving him a whole lot of leeway right now. She was probably doing more than she should to help him. Being a mentor on the senior design team didn’t mean she needed to keep tabs on his personal life and pick up his slack.

“Sirius–”

When Sirius focused back into the meeting he was calling into, it occurred to him that they’re talking to him. So he did what he always did, blamed it on a shoddy connection.

“Oh, sorry, can you repeat that? My audio cut out.”

“Remus was saying that some of the poems could probably use illustrations, and he was wondering if you had any ideas on which ones needed it.”

“Thanks, Peter.” Sirius was glad that he knew the people on this team, that Peter and James were as close to him as anyone could be. Because otherwise, he’d probably be fucked.

“So I was looking through them, and I was thinking Bite, Magick, and Love I could probably use larger scale illustrations. But at the same time, we don’t want to crowd the book. How attached are you to the current order or page arrangement?”

It felt too close, but he was lucky that he had at least read the titles of some of the poems in the first half of the book. Sirius knew Remus didn’t actually know what his level of involvement was. He thought it was just doodles, but Sirius would be responsible for presenting everything from kearning and font choice within the pages, to illustration and cover art to the design team. He was integral to the success of this book as a product, and he needed to start acting like it.

“I’m pretty attached.” Remus sounded cold to Sirius, and he wondered what exactly he had done wrong in this meeting. And yet, he didn’t have time to think on it. He needed to keep things moving, keep getting valuable information out of the author. Hook up be damned, Sirius needed this book to actually get off the ground.

“Okay, well we should get a meeting on the calender to discuss. What poems and what scale of illustrations you want–”

“Shouldn’t you be deciding what the illustrations look like and the logistics of those. Isn’t that what you get paid for?” Remus really wasn’t making this easy on Sirius. But he had dealt with bigger demons and divas then whatever this attitude was. So he put on a light and airy smile, one they’d never know didn’t reach his eyes over the low quality webcam and nodded.

“If you’d like to take a hands off approach with the design work, that can absolutely be arranged. But in the case of a fledgling project with a new author, the design team, myself included, really hope to prioritize your artistic license so that we can get a better sense of your vision for your literature, should Quill move forward with other publications in the future. We can provide a completely in-house service, with as much input as you feel necessary during the design process, and deliver collateral towards the end of the project when final edits are done, if you would prefer, Mister Lupin.”

Sirius practically wanted to scream. He needed Remus to stop fucking with his job, with his livelihood. He couldn’t lose this project. He needed all of the billable hours he could get if he was going to justify the overtime he needed in order to provide for his brother. This was ridiculous. But his clinical and polite answer must have thrown Remus, because he didn’t get much more attitude out of him. The back and forth had ended. So instead, Sirius pulled up his deliverables for the week, which included new iterations for the covers, and twelve illustrations for the three poems he had mentioned.

He noticed the way Remus looked at his drawings, like he was pained by whatever his thoughts were, and Sirius wants to scream that he’s under no obligation to think that they’re good. But then he remembers that Remus seemed to be nitpicking on purpose, based on his critique of the design system itself. Sirius didn’t have the time to deal with that level of petty, just because he hadn’t been answering. He was too busy. He had too much on his plate. So instead he continues his presentation.

“I don’t like any of these. Maybe you should start over.” Remus sounded vindictive, even mean. Like he was doing this out of spite. Sirius could feel his heart drop in that moment. He didn’t want to start over. He didn’t have the time.

“What do you not like about them?” Sirius is trying to salvage his work while he can.

“The vibe is off.”

“Oh, is there something specific that throws it off or...” Sirius trailed off, wondering what exactly he needed to change.

“No, it’s the whole thing. All of them are just off.”

Sirius needed to think quick on his feet. He didn’t have the time to start from scratch, so he pulled up his original thumbnails that he had discussed with Remus.

“These are the original sketches we discussed. I moved forward with the ones we talked about. I’m happy to rework those sketches,” no, he wasn’t. “But if there’s another sketch that you think would fit your vision better, please let me know.” He felt like he was pleading with Remus not to hate his artwork. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a blow to his self esteem to hear that everything that he did was bad.

“No, I would suggest you start over.”

Sirius nodded, his mind immediately whirring with ways he could start over and re-design this project. He really didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to do hundreds of thumbnails to get set on thirty, only to be destroyed in a meeting again. Especially when Remus seemed so excited about all of his illustrations before the meetings. It felt like too much. He didn’t have the energy for this kind of behavior.

Luckily, Marlene directed the conversation away from Sirius’s work. The rest of the call went on without a hitch, like the only person who’s work Remus had a problem with was Sirius’s. He knew that it was more likely for Remus to have a problem with him, because design work was usually something an artist thought of as easy; however, this felt calculated and cold. If Sirius had been avoiding Remus before, it definitely wasn’t about to get better. So instead, he listened to the end of the meeting, and started the project all over again. He could do this. It was an unremarkable critique. It didn’t matter.

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hanideyumeron · 3 years

Note

Hi! Love your writing, it's really good! If it doesn't bother you, could you do a yugi amane (when it was alive) x a sick reader. Thank you!

forgive me friend for not doing this ;-; i hope you understand since this year has been so hectic. i don’t think this is my most best work but hey i tried hhh i still feel really confused when on tumblr so forgive me for that as well

Amane Yugi x sick reader

It was a normal day for everyone, that is, everyone except for Yugi Amane. His honey coloured eyes didn’t have that playful twinkle it always had and instead was narrowed in what seemed like concern. They darted over to the door of the classroom too much for his comfort, wondering if your bubbly figure would come any moment now. No one noticed it since it was only reg and most students were talking to each other. Yes, it was only reg, it would be fine, you’d come in at any time now. his thoughts were a mirage of worry and what-ifs that made his head swirl. However, the sounds of his reg class laughing and talking started to drown out those thoughts. He folded his arms and laid his head flat against the desk. With his swirling thoughts, the noise only worsened his mood and slowly turned into a headache. People could be so annoying sometimes.

In the end, you didn’t come.

Amane was at first worried since you believed in perfect attendance, wondering out loud where you were to his brother at break. He had looked at him and blinked with a smile, pointing out one big detail that Amane seemed to have missed “Amane, it was raining really hard yesterday, remember? She might have just got sick! Don’t worry too much,’kay?” Amane looked at his brother with a face of realisation, mouth-blown out like an ‘o’ while his eyes regained its twinkle. That was right, the huge droplets of water had refused to let go of their reign of the land when it was time to go home, and so through critical deduction of solutions, you and Tsukasa had a race to see who could run home the fastest.

Amane had voiced his concerns for the idea, but since you and his brother had already shot out into the rain, he sighed and followed the two of you but more slowly and of course with an umbrella. He didn’t know how Tsukasa wasn’t worried for you since it wasn’t like you to be off at all. You had once come into school when you had a tummy bug and made a scene when you ran to the nearest bathroom. If you went to school with an upset stomach, this must be even more serious. Amane was also confused about how Tsukasa didn’t get sick himself but didn’t bother to ask since it would have been a stupid question.

Even if Tsukasa said not to worry, of course, Amane started to worry more. It was like him after all, even if he rarely showed it. So when it was time to go home, he told Tsukasa to go home without him while he checked up on you. Tsukasa just smiled and nodded, not even asking if he could join him. Amane walked up to your house and opened the gate, walking in without forgetting to close it again. With three long strides to the front door, he knocked on the door loudly.

...No one came to the door.

He was expecting this. At least kind of. Your parents worked a lot and would leave you to your own devices. If you didn’t come and get the door then…

Amane frowned. Now he knew that you definitely weren’t okay. It didn’t sit right with him to just leave you alone to suffer from your illness. He’d feel like a bad friend since he knew of your sickness and didn’t try to help you. He looked around and settled on lifting a gardening pot that was laid on the ground near the front door to see if anything was under it and was relieved to see that a spare key was hidden there. Using it, he opened the door and walked in.

He felt a bit weird intruding into your house without notifying you first. It’s not as if he was breaking in, so why did it feel like it? Shaking the feeling off, he closed the door and took off his shoes peering through the main hallway of the house. “...Hello? [Y/n]?” Amane called out softly into the house. Silence echoed back and Amane’s eyes only narrowed in response. He left this bag slumped near the door of the house and slowly made his ascent to your room. The room was the nearest to him and was marked with your name etched into it to claim the room as yours.

Slowly, he opened the door, and instantly saw the darkness that enveloped it. The only light he saw was the small, dim beams of sunlight that peeked through from the curtains and to your bed. From what he could see, he could see your normally energetic self curled into a small ball, almost motionless if it weren’t for the slow breaths that you took. You looked wrecked, your normally soft hair now wet with sweat and stuck onto your forehead. Your eyes were shut closed in pain it seemed and your laboured breaths sounded wheezy and sore.

Amane frowned at this, the sight of you that sick made his heart writhe in pain. So with a quick smile, he set to work.

———-

Today had to be one of your worst days.

When you woke up, you woke up sticky and sore at nearly five in the morning. Your eyes felt like they had been staring into the sun for at least a day which left you with the rest of your senses to fend for you, but one problem, the rest of your senses weren’t even working. Your sense of smell was almost null since your nose kept on being blocked and the feeling of sneezing never left. Anything you touched felt warm to you and made you want to creep away from it from how warm you already felt. Your hearing was affected by your sense of smell, leaving you partly deaf as well.

Your mother had scolded you, saying how it was silly what you had done the day before. And through the whole lecture, your head and everything else got worse so you couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. In the end, she had left you alone in the house to go to work since it was too late to ask to be off today. Your dad was on a business trip that day and wouldn’t be home until late that week, so now you had no one to help you. But that was alright because all you wanted to do was to sleep.

When you opened your eyes for the first time since that morning, the first thing you comprehended was a wet and cold sensation on the top of your forehead. The next thing you noticed was a quiet hum of a song beside you. It sounded like a lullaby, coaxing you to sleep once more. It had made you smile, and before you knew it, you opened your eyes. The stinging hadn’t left, but at least you didn’t feel like opening them was a chore. The ceiling of your room was blurry, colours swirling in and out of view before a face appeared along with a smile. “Am I...dead?” You blurted out which made the owner of the face laugh a bit, sounding relieved to hear your voice. Then, hands reached out to your forehead and took off the cold that caressed your face. You groaned at the lack of comfort that brought, but as soon as you did, the face brought the cold back but only this time it was even colder and slightly wetter. You sighed in relief, the rush of oxygen actually feeling nice.

“No, you’re not dead,” the figure teased, and it was when you heard that familiar teasing and playful voice that you realised that the figure that was taking care of you was none other than Amane. Your eyes shot open as your mouth drew agape, panic and disbelief flooding your system when you realised that your best friend was the one taking care of you and not an angelic being from the clouds above. As soon as your head moved off the pillow, a rush of pain shot up your spine and into your head, making it apparent that you were also dehydrated. Amane, surprised at the sudden movement, slowly pushed you back down into the bed and placed the fallen wet cloth back on your forehead.

“Why are you here? You should be at your house!” You whined pathetically, glaring at him with as much annoyance as you could muster in that time. But seeing Amane’s worried lopsided smile made you sigh and look away, letting Amane continue with what he was doing.

The look made it very obvious to you that he wasn’t going anywhere. At least, not in a long time. He was the type of person that didn’t have a lot of friends and the friends that he did have he cherished like gold. Pushing him away would be futile and you knew it even if you were only a young teenager. But knowing that Amane too was a young teenager looking after you didn’t sit well with you either, so you opened your mouth to- “Don’t try, you’re too sick to move,” you turned back to Amane with a dumbfounded look. What? How did he know? With a smile he giggled at your confused expression “I live with a brother who gets sick like this sometimes. I’m used to it so don’t worry,” you pouted at that. It didn’t make you feel any less bad, but since he knew what he was doing put you at ease, you were at least a bit more compliant.

Amane babied you, helping you to sit up so you could read books on your shelf or just to keep you company. He brought you some soup your mother had quickly made for you and spoon-fed you despite your flustered attempts to make him stop. This only made him tease you more as he pretended it was an aeroplane like you would do for a toddler. Soon, the afternoon turned to evening, and Amane watched as your slightly more energetic self turned more and more tired until opening your eyes seemed like a chore. He had deemed it late enough and coaxed you into lying down, tucking you into bed. After keeping you company and also looking after you for the day he realised he too was tired. Now he just wanted to sleep.

“Goodbye [Y/n],” he said softly, seeing the way your eyes barely stayed open. You were fighting sleep, and for someone as sick as you, sleep would be very important for you “Get well soon, I’ll check up on you tomorrow,” he turned to leave, but before he could, you had grasped his hand to make him stay.

“It’s too late now, isn’t it? Don’t go now. I’ll feel worried for you,”

Amane looked out the window and noticed that it indeed was late. The street lamps were on, headlights of cars zoomed past leaving streaks of white in their wake and the sound of the crickets had finally made its way to his ears. Looking back to you, he saw the way that you were sitting up a bit since you reached out to grab his hand. Your eyes were pleading, of course, something you would muster to make Amane stay since he couldn’t say no to any puppy eyes, especially yours or Tsukasa’s. The reasonable answer was to stay with you since at night it was much more dangerous. So as Amane weighed his options, he let out a sigh and nodded, slipping under the covers with you. In your tired state, you had wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder. Amane was almost sure that with this close proximity that he was going to get sick as well, but for him it was worth it since he was able to hug you for a night.

“Mmm love you Amane,”

Amane felt his cheeks light up. Was that an accident? It must be. Maybe you just meant it platonically. Why was he even thinking about that? Of course, you meant it platonically. Was he getting sick already? Yeah, that had to be it. Smiling he closed his eyes, already feeling more tired than he was a second ago.

“...love you too,”

Amane was definitely sick. But his sickness was an entirely different sickness than the one that you had.

#yugi amane x reader #hanako x reader #tbhk x reader #tbhk #jshk x reader

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nastybuckybarnes · 4 years

Text

Bad Dream - Ten

Pairing: Dark!Steve X Reader

Summary: A year after wiping your memory and keeping you for himself, Steve Rogers is happy. Happier than he’s ever been. With you and your daughter, life couldn’t be any better. The only problem? You’re starting to remember things.

Warnings: Angst, Language, MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER

Word Count: 2.1K

A/n: Boom boom hit ‘em with a plot twist. Ahaha

!!!THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!!!

MADNESS MASTERLIST ~ BAD DREAM MASTERLIST

~*~

He’s kept his word.

It’s been eight days and he’s kept his word. He hasn’t hurt you or raised his voice at you. He’s been kind, sweet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he actually cares about you.

Do you know any better? There are times where you find yourself staring at him, a smile on your face while he plays with Sarah, before you remember exactly who he is and what he’s done to you.

But the scary part is, that those moments are happening more and more frequently.

~*~

“You hungry, darling?” Your stomach flips and you try to convince yourself it’s morning sickness, not the nickname he’s been calling you.

“Not really,” you reply automatically, voice soft and timid. Steve sighs and gently rests his hand on your knee, setting a plate of food down on the bedside table while looking into your eyes with something that resembles desperation.

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta eat, regain your strength. Doctor’s orders.” You watch as he picks the plate back up and sets it on the bed in front of you. There’s an omelette, a bunch of fruits, some toast, and a small yogurt cup. It looks delicious, but the thought of eating anything makes you wanna puke. And the thought of your mouth watering for something he’s providing you makes it that much worse.

Oblivious to your internal battle, he sets a fork down on the plate with a soft smile. “I’ve got all the food groups in here. I read somewhere that if your plate isn’t colourful then it isn’t healthy but I don’t know how true it is.” He looks up at you, those baby blues so entrancing that you find yourself momentarily forgetting everything he’s done to you and instead, allow yourself to enjoy the breakfast in bed.

You stare at him for a moment before caving with a sigh, popping a strawberry into your mouth and trying desperately to figure out his intentions.

He sees the questions burning behind your eyes and sets down the glass of water he was sipping.

“What is it?” He asks, blue eyes fixed on your face.

You find yourself torn between asking your questions and staying silent, the former a test of his boundaries and the latter a form of protecting yourself from any potential harm that may arise from unwanted questions.

“You can ask me. I won’t get mad, I swear. At least, not at you,” he adds the last part carefully and you take note of that before asking your questions.

“You said you picked me because you saw potential in me. For a family, a life,” you begin carefully, not wanting to push his buttons. He simply waits for you to continue, eyes still soft and curious.

“Why did you get so angry at me? Why were you so rough?” He exhales deeply and closes his eyes, knowing that this conversation was bound to happen if he truly wanted to make things better with you.

“I... I’m angry. I’m so fucking angry all the time and I took it out on you. I used you as an outlet in the worst possible way. I realize what I did was wrong but... I did it anyway. I guess because you’d been... programmed,” he hesitates on the word, gauging your reaction before continuing, “to obey me. To take every hit I sent your way and stay by my side through it all. I knew that I could do what I wanted and I’d get away with it.” You find yourself shocked by the humanity in his answer, the admission of guilt, of being wrong.

“Before you found out you were pregnant with Sarah, you and I were good together. We were perfect. I didn’t even need to... influence you. You were just so perfect for me. I want us to be like that again,” he murmurs.

“How are we supposed to get like that?” You ask quietly, not entirely hating the idea of being happy with a man who treats you right. He sighs heavily and rubs his eyes, suddenly looking exhausted and weary.

“I don’t know. But I know that I’m not going to hurt you. You’re carrying my baby, and I won’t hurt you. Even if you weren’t pregnant, I wouldn’t hurt you again.” His words hang heavy in the air as the two of you absorb them, him with his face in his hands and you with a strawberry stem in yours.

You’re quiet for a long time, thinking about everything he’s told you, everything you remember that you wish you could forget. An idea suddenly hits you full force, and your heart jumps in your chest at what it would mean.

“Could you... make me forget it? All the bad stuff? I... I’ll never be able to live a normal life while I have these memories. Can you get rid of them? Then we’ll live a normal life.” His eyes flash up to yours, hope igniting a flame in them as he nods slowly.

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” he whispers, wanting more than anything for you to forget and be his obedient little wife again.

“I’m sure,” you say quickly, almost too quickly. Almost.

“I’ll talk to Bucky about it. He’s the one with the book. But I don’t wanna do it until you’ve had time to properly think it over and really consider what you’re asking. I know that... you know you’re it for me. And I’m going to have you no matter what, but making our relationship work is a priority for me, especially now that we’ve got another baby on the way. But you’re mine, and you’ll always be mine. But if that’s what you really want, I’ll do it for you.”

You let out a shuddering breath as he stands up and heads to the door, Sarah’s cries grabbing his attention. With him gone, you take a few deep breaths, trying to come to terms with what you’ve requested of him.

~*~

“Are you sure that you want to forget?” Natasha asks, sitting across from you on the bed. You nod, eyes cast downwards. “I’m forced to stay with him anyway, I might as well be happy while doing it. I just... I want to know what it is, how it affects my brain. I don’t want to be forced into it, I want to learn about it.” She nods, unsure of how she feels about your request.

“Bucky has a book about it, it’s the one they used to control him. He’s had the words wiped from his mind but it explains how it works. I’m sure the two of them would understand if you read it, especially because of how... obedient you’re being.” She eyes you up and down for a moment before sighing.

“I wish it wasn’t like this for you,” she whispers, eyes on the baby in your arms. “Me too,” you agree. “But I know that there’s nothing I can do about it. This is my life, and nothing can change that. So I’d better make the best of it. If this is what leaves everyone feeling at least slightly happy, then I’ll do it.”

Her heart aches at the confession but she understands.

You lean down and plant a gentle kiss to Sarah’s head, smiling when she giggles.

“Steve loves her,” Nat says softly. You nod, looking at the beautiful baby in your arms. “I know. And she loves him. It’ll work. Maybe not in my favour, but it’ll work.” Unable to bear the way that you’re sacrificing your individuality, Natasha gets up and seeks out her friend, wanting to do whatever she can to make you happy. “Steve!” She calls. The blond looks up from his phone, eyebrows raised.

“I want the book. I want to teach her what’s happening to her.” He nods, setting his phone down on the couch beside himself.

“Bucky’s getting it. He should be back within an hour. I want her to be happy before we wipe her again. Buck says it makes it last longer when she’s compliant.” Nat feels sick to her stomach.

“Steve you can’t-” But Steve’s on his feet and rushing past her to the master bedroom, hearing your distressed cries before they reach Natasha’s ears.

He finds you struggling to get out of the bed, Sarah held in one arm.

“Bathroom,” you whisper weakly, one hand held tightly to your mouth. Natasha comes in and takes Sarah from your arms while Steve scoops you up in his and brings you to the bathroom, placing you in front of the toilet and holding your hair back while you gag.

When you finally stop heaving you fall back against steve's chest, bringing your hand up to wipe your face.

Steve's sharp inhale gets your attention and you open your eyes, horror filling you as you see the blood in the toilet and on the back of your hand.

You slowly turn to look up at him, fear in your eyes, and his own face mirrors your expression.

A sharp pain in your stomach makes you cry out, eyes shutting again as agony fills your lower abdomen.

"What's happening in there?!" Natasha demands, peaking her head in through the doorway. Her eyes land on you, hand against your stomach and face screwed up in pain, and she instantly knows what's happening.

"It's okay, darling. You're gonna be okay," Steve says softly, rubbing your back and trying to comfort you.

You squirm on the ground as pain overwhelms you, crying out again and reaching for the closest thing, which happens to be Steve's hand. You squeeze hard, sobbing as the pain sends bolts of fire up your spine and down through your pelvis.

"The doctor's on his way," Nat says, although she knows nothing can be done.

When you open your eyes everything is spinning, the world a blur, and you can hardly hear anything over the ringing in your ears.

"What do I do, Nat?" You don't hear her reply, too busy fighting the darkness that threatens to overtake you. Eventually, fighting becomes too hard, and you fall into the peaceful nothingness that takes the pain away.

~*~

"This is why you can't keep her the way you have been, Steve," Natasha scolds for the millionth time, standing by her friend who sits at the foot of the bed, redrimmed eyes trained on your unconscious face.

"I know," he whispers, trying to get the image of you on the ground, bleeding, out of his mind.

"And neither one of you knew she was pregnant?" She asks. He sighs and nods. "We didn't know how far along. I think both of us assumed she was only a month or two." You had been just over four months.

You scrunch your nose up in discomfort and slowly open your eyes, confused and slightly dazed.

"Hi sweetheart," Steve whispers, moving up on the bed to sit next to you so you can see him.

"What happened?" You ask, voice scratchy and hoarse.

"The doctor couldn't pinpoint one cause... but we... we lost the baby." You furrow your brows and shake your head, wincing slightly at the throb it causes.

"N-no." He nods, tears falling down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry." You look at Natasha desperately, hoping he's lying, but when she shakes her head solemnly you know it's true.

A strangled gasp leaves you and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"No," you repeat, softer this time.

"I'm sorry," Steve whispers again, holding your hand close to his face.

You tear your hand away from him and bring it to your stomach, fat tears rolling down your face as you realize how empty you feel.

"No!" You cry, curling in on yourself despite the pain. "No!" You hate him. You hate him with every fibre of your being. And you hate yourself for thinking that even for one moment you could be happy with him. He's taken one of the few shreds of light in your life and destroyed it.

Steve and Natasha leave you alone after a while, Steve to get Sarah and Nat to find Bucky.

The isolation gives you time to calm down and to think, and you quickly find yourself hatching a plan.

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7-seasof-fandom · 4 years

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Forgotten childhood friendships

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13727611/2/A-messy-family

I couldn't sleep last night, so here's a fic. I hope you enjoy it!

Big thank you to my lovely husband @deadliest-little-thing for proofreading this!! :) you're the best, love

"You know what, Vanya, I used to really like you," Five said, trying to not let his frustration show. It was hard though. They used to be so close, Vanya was the one person Five could go to when all the Umbrella Academy stuff was too much, she was the one person who understood how to get through to him when he was driving himself too far and she was one of the easiest to talk to. She had always understood him and he had understood her. They had trusted each other in a way that had felt so intimate and safe. Now he could barely recognize her and it stung. On top of that, the pain and confusion seemed to be one sided.

"Right, when I was quiet and compliant and did whatever you wanted me to," Vanya snapped back, giving him a challenging look. Five had to bite his tongue to not take her up on the unspoken dare. "Well, I'm done being controlled, Five," Vanya growled, stepping closer. He realized in horror that her eyes were starting to glow. He swallowed thickly, instinctively taking a step back. All safety Vanya had ever made him feel, vaporized like dew in the sun.

He was suddenly unsure of everything. The predator was suddenly prey. Five felt like he was in a free fall. He tried to breathe but instead his mouth just opened and closed, like a stranded fish gasping for oxygen.

Vanya gave him a triumphant smile, clearly enjoying his panic. Five tried to force his breathing under control. Just that one thing. He needed to be in control of that one thing in a situation where he suddenly had absolutely none. He felt like his whole world had done a 180 and it was still spinning.

"That's not what I meant," he tried, his voice pathetically hoarse and weak. He shook his head, trying to shake off the images that started to creep into his mind. Vanya let out a laugh. It sounded a terrible lot like her violin. Five felt nausea arise and once again had to swallow thickly. He rubbed at his sore chest, trying to force out another sentence. "I just meant that I miss the Vanya who cared about other people," he mumbled. He bit his cheek in an attempt to make sure nothing other than words came out, but it was in vain, as he had to rush past her to empty the content of his stomach into their father's favorite vase.

A weak groan escaped his lips as he leaned against the table, holding on to the vase, his arms were shaking under his weight. He could feel Vanya's glare from behind him and for a moment he was overwhelmed by the urge to run away and hide, but he was too weak, too exhausted. They were all gonna die- they were- he shook his head, snapping himself out of it. This wasn't the apocalypse, just an absolutely awful situation. He sucked in a shaky breath, turning around to face Vanya as he still leaned on the table for support.

Vanya gave him a look which was painfully familiar. Gosh he missed her... "You okay, Five?" she asked, worry seeping into every letter of the question. Five wanted to laugh, but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd have to pay the vase another visit, so instead he just stared at her, wondering at what point her becoming her own person had meant that they couldn't be friends. Sure, he was an asshole, he knew he was an asshole, but... he tried, right? It was hard, but he tried and somehow, with Vanya, it hadn't been as hard. But even so, he had clearly failed, because out of all of his siblings, Vanya actually seemed to be the one to despise him most.

"Five, I didn't get free of Dad and Leonard just for my own brother to tell me that he liked me better before I got to be myself and make my own choices," she hissed in frustration. Apparently she couldn't even call him out for his behavior without him playing the victim.

"That's not what I meant," he mumbled, choking on air mid sentence. He gasped, staring at a discoloured tile on the floor, wondering if it had always been like that. It seemed to sway from side to side, unable to stand still. Five realized, as his head hit the table, that he was the one struggling to stay still.

Then everything turned black until the sound of a violin playing overtook the darkness wirh a brightness so bright that it hurt and made his head puls and throb with pain. His whole body felt like it was burning up. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He couldn't- he bolted up from the bed, gasping for air. The violin music slowly faded away, instead turning into a familiar, comforting humming. Grace was by his side, a wet cloth in her hand. She grabbed his shoulder to support him and help him lay down, as he was overcome by dizziness.

Laying back down he noticed Vanya by the side of his bed, a worried look on her face. Made sense, she just almost killed them- then he realized the apocalypse was months ago. It had just been a nightmare. Then, what was she so worried about? He was brought out of his thoughts by the wet cloth being placed on his forehead. He shivered. Why was it so cold? Grace gently touched her hand against his cheek. It stung like ice. "You're burning up, sweetie," she told him, softly. Then she continued humming and doing the same stuff she would always do when any of them were sick. Then, to Five's dread, she left him and Vanya alone.

Five threw a quick glance at his sister, before reverting his eyes to the ceiling, trying to ignore the jolt of anxiety he felt when looking at her. Five was sick from pushing himself too far, as he had so many times before and for the first time in 45 years Vanya was by his side as she had been so many times before, only this time nothing was like it ever had been. He pressed his lips together, trying to hold back a whimper at how unfamiliar this familiar situation was, but to his great regret he failed.

He could hear Vanya shift in the chair beside him. "You shouldn't push yourself so much... I would've thought you knew better by now," there was worry in her voice, but also something else, something strange. It didn't sound right with Vanya's voice, but he had grown to become more acquainted with it than he'd like. "Especially with how you always tell everyone else what to do," she added, dismay shining through clearly in her voice. Five found himself wondering if she had really stayed with him while he was passed out just to continue their argument.

"Well, I've gotta make myself useful somehow," he mumbled. Ignoring the sting in his chest. Vanya looked at him with an alarm, but she didn't say anything. Five didn't want her to anyways. If he allowed his mind to get numb enough, he was back to being thirteen years old and him and Vanya were just enjoying each other's company in silence. They were good at that. Just sitting in silence, but still saying more than most. However, after he came back, it seemed like a thousand words didn't even hold up to one.

He let out a sigh. Things really were just so much simpler when you were a kid, weren't they? He tried to ignore Vanya's stare, instead fidgeting with the edge of his blanket. He remembered how he and Vanya had once built a fort out of the blankets and pillows from their room. Ben had helped. He really missed them a lot. Ben was dead, gone. Far away and out his of reach and even though Vanya was right there, right beside him, she somehow seemed to be even further away.

As he thought back to faded childhood memories, he couldn't help the stain that now was on them, caused by the thought that apparently Vanya didn't think fondly of them, like he did. Had she even wanted to be his friend or had he just forced her? He swallowed thickly, sending the bucket beside his bed a glance. Was he just as bad as their dad? He tightened his grip around the blanket, his hands visibly shaking from the tension, but what did that matter anyways?

He stared at the ceiling for what felt like forever, memory after memory replaying in his mind. Each of them stained. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. His mouth felt dry like sandpaper. His words broken and worn. Way too late. Vanya tilted her head, trying to catch his eyes, but he couldn't make himself meet hers. "I just wanted to be your friend. I thought I was," he continued, hoping she didn't notice the tear running down his cheek. It stung like a needle, as it fell down his skin.

Vanya felt like all air had been sucked out of her, as realization hit her and all satisfaction she had felt at Five's discomfort turned into guilt. She looked at her brother, who was very obviously trying to hide his tears, but at this point they were running freely. She leaned close, trying to help him wipe the tears away. As her hands made contact with his burning hot cheeks, he froze at her touch. For a moment she feared that he'd flinch away, but instead he leaned into it, allowing her to cup his cheek.

"I'm sorry too, Five... I didn't realize."

He looked at her for a moment, before closing his eyes and leaning his face even more against her hand. "It's a'ight," he mumbled, clearly struggling to hold back a yawn. "I'm an assssshole all the time, it's only... hmmm... it's only fair, y'know?" She didn't even get to respond before she was yanked forward as Five suddenly decided to lay back down. He apparently fell asleep right then and there and took her hand down with him. She couldn't hold back a laugh, which startled him awake.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Vanyyyya. You're soooo loud... I still love youu thoughhhh," He slurred, looking at her with sleepy puppy eyes. Vanya couldn't help the soft smile that spread across her face, even as she had to try to find a comfortable position with her hand stuck as Five's pillow. Five clumsily moved to the side, making room for her on the bed, but still not letting go of her hand. "It might as well be your hand now," she joked. Five just snorted, snuggling close to her as soon as she laid down beside him.

She ran her free hand through his hair, which she then realized was wet with sweat. "Ew," she mumbled, pulling him closer as she tried not to worry about how much he was clearly trembling. She took it as a good sign that he was holding on to her too. That meant he still had some strength left. She felt another sting of guilt. She hadn't realized how sick he was. Back when they were kids she was always the one he told, always the one who knew even if he didn't tell. Things were so much simpler back the, she thought, as she kissed the top of his head. They'd be okay though. They had each other, and it would obviously take a lot of work, but they could work this out. They always had.

#tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #fanfic

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trillgutterbug · 3 years

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ellic 4.0?

Tbh I'm like, there is Tanis fic?!?! Which, of course there is, it just never occurred to me to look for it 😅

there BARELY is tbh, and only one good nic/ellis fic (this one), which is really too bad because i ship it ferociously!!!! and i would love it if anyone wanted to come talk to me about it 👀👀 i really hope i finish this fic someday, but unfortunately doing so will require actually listening to tanis again lmao. i just did a whole relisten and barely survived it. (to be fair, i could just totally halfass the rest of this fic and that'd be about as canon-compliant as i could get, but i can't bring myself to do that.) anyway, it's set in season..... idk, 2...? whenever nic is working at pacifica, and so far it's all just ust.

(tw: aftermath of animal death)

At the end of Nic’s first break, Ellis stopped him on his way out the door. He was wearing his jacket again, zipped to the neck. His cheeks were flushed with exertion and he smelled of bright, fresh air.

“Nic,” he said, hands tucked in his pockets. “I’d like to show you something, if you have a moment.”

Nic hesitated, already gripping the door handle. “Okay… I’m just going out for my second period, though.”

“I know. What you need to see is in the woods. A discovery an employee just made.”

Something began squirming in Nic’s chest. A fluttering dread. “What is it?”

“I would prefer to show you.” Despite its gentleness, there was no room for negotiation in Ellis’ tone. His gaze was very direct, the position of his body next to the door as clear a message as the bright red EXIT sign above it.

Nic chewed the inside of his cheek, weighing his options. Without any surprise, he found the scales entirely unequal. As usual. “Alright,” he said at last. “Sure.” Taking his hand off the handle, he gestured Ellis forward. “After you.”

~*~

It wasn’t a long walk - seven minutes by Nic’s watch. Still, that was a third of his shift. He’d never known twenty-two minutes could fly by so quickly until he started this job. Ellis said very little, leading Nic down a winding series of trails that were vaguely familiar in the way every trail in these woods was familiar. The shades of dirt and trees, the shape of the land, were as recognizable to Nic as the quality of light in a Rembrandt.

“Where are we going?” he finally asked, when the quiet and the briskness of Ellis’ pace had worn through his last nerve. He'd turned on his voice recorder as soon as they left the facility, but so far it had mostly recorded dead air and a few birdsongs.

“Just up ahead,” Ellis replied without looking back.

“But what is it?”

“You’ll see.”

That was hardly a satisfactory answer, but, as it turned out, it was an accurate one. Nic knew what was coming before he even saw the clearing. Between one step and the next, he knew. His whole body seized. His muscles clenched like the hard involuntary shudder of incipient hypothermia. His feet dragged, slowed, and stopped. The Blur rushed up on him, snatching him under its thick cotton cloud before he could even consider fighting it. Distantly, through a high-pitched haze, he watched Ellis turn around.

Ellis didn’t seem surprised he’d stopped. He regarded Nic with a calm, curious expression. “Nic? What’s wrong?”

“I don't want to,” Nic heard himself say. His voice was low, firm. “I don't want to do this.”

Ellis took a step toward him. “What don't you want to do?”

“I don't want to see.”

Ellis watched him without speaking. It was unbearable, the inescapability of his gaze. Nic’s fists clenched. His heart began to pound. He thought about turning and running with an urgency so visceral his breath caught. If he was fast, if he was smart about it, he could get back to the facility before Ellis could stop him. He could get back to the road. He could run all the way back to his car, he could -

“It's alright,” Ellis said. “There's nothing here that can harm you.”

Nic shook his head. His chest hurt like his heart was going to burst through it. “You don't know that.”

Ellis came closer. He took his hands out of his jacket pockets. “Nic, what do you think I'm about to show you? What do you think is out here?”

Tears stung the back of Nic’s eyes. His mouth filled with the taste of salt. “I don't know,” he whispered.

Another step. “Are you sure about that?”

Nic shut his eyes. “I don’t want to know.”

“I think it's important that you do.” Ellis touched Nic’s wrist. “May I?”

Nic tried to say No, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. His throat had shut tight.

Ellis drew him forward with a warm, unyielding grip. “I'm right here with you,” he said. “I won't let anything happen.”

That was bullshit, of course. Even if Ellis had been trustworthy, he didn’t understand what the Blur was capable of, what Tanis could do. He just didn’t understand. But Nic obeyed the tug of his hand anyway. He followed, blind.

It was only around the next corner. Nic nearly walked into Ellis’ back when he stopped, then stood as still as he could, holding his breath. If he didn’t move, it wouldn’t see him. It wouldn’t catch him.

“Nic?” Ellis’ voice was very quiet. “Open your eyes.”

He didn’t want to. But he did as he was told.

Ellis was standing between Nic and the clearing, but Nic could see it over his shoulder. He could see the corpses, the piles of fur and feathers, the guts and the bones. He could smell rot. And, as if that seeing and smelling was an inoculation, an exorcism, the Blur receded. It drew away like a wave sucked back down a long beach. Nic was left standing cold and sick in the woods with dead animals at his feet and Cameron Ellis next to him, alone in his own mind.

“I didn't do this,” he said, before Ellis could speak. “I didn't.”

Ellis took a moment to respond. His hand, still on Nic’s, tightened. His thumb touched the bone of Nic’s wrist. “I’m afraid evidence suggests otherwise.”

The smell roiled in the back of Nic throat, churning his stomach. He turned his head to gag, but nothing came up except some sour spit. He breathed fast and ragged until he thought he could speak again. “What evidence?” he asked. It emerged as a croak.

“The test results for the blood swabbed from you on Friday,” said Ellis. “It's all animal. Birds and small mammals, some reptiles. The scraping from under your nails contained fur and feather keratin.”

Ellis’ soft words permitted no misunderstanding, even though Nic very badly wanted to misunderstand. He chanced another glance over Ellis’ shoulder. It was no less horrific this time, but he forced himself to keep looking, to comprehend what he was seeing. The eviscerated birds dangling from branches, the heaps of sticky flesh among the roots. Flashes of white bone, piles of feathers, torn flesh and fur. The flies. The flies were buzzing so loud.

“I couldn't do this,” he said. Even to himself, it sounded more like a question, a plea for agreement. “How could anyone do this?”

Ellis didn’t reply. He was looking at Nic, not the carnage around them.

Nic swallowed, twice and then three times. He began to shiver. “You don't think I did this. You can't think that.”

“I think…” said Ellis, measuring his words, “that you were not in your right mind when you were involved in what happened here. Whatever that was.” There was nothing judgmental in his gaze, only concern. Nic wanted to shrivel beneath the weight of it, recoil like something delicate and wet withdrawing from the sun, scalded by perception. “Do you remember anything at all?”

Nic shook his head. “No. No, I -” He trailed off, distracted again, aghast. “How would someone do this?” He felt like a broken record, the needle of his mind trapped in this one deep, gouged groove. “How would someone even catch…” There were crows, sparrows, squirrels. He saw the dull stretch of something spotted and leathery, a frog or salamander skin. A rabbit’s head, attached to the stump of its spine by a thin string of flesh. Was that the bloody, disembodied leg of a wolf, or was it...

His voice cracked. “How would I even catch all these animals?”

“I don't know, Nic,” Ellis said. “That's what we were hoping you could tell us."

#my fic #tanis #ellic #enjoy reading this while scrolling your show's tag terry #don't tell me my characterization is whack i know what i'm doing #the formatting on this looks crazy on mobile but fine on desktop so 🤔#what is the truth dot gif

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creamypudding · 3 years

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Woeful WIP Wednesday

Hi! This is the start of my Woeful WIP Wednesday series of posts which will happen on Wednesdays, duh. And before anyone gets up at me about it not being Wednesday yet... just remember time zones exist in this world, and yeah, it is actually Wednesday.

Other things about the name... Most of these WIPs I'm happy with so it's not the actual stories that are woeful. It's the fact that they are still WIPs and not finished that is woeful to me, hence the name, yeah? Ok 😄

So with that out of the way...

I've gone through all my folders and found the various bits and pieces of writing I've begun and let slide or abandoned. My hope is that by letting them be free on Tumblr I might either A) remember that these stories exist, B) perhaps get a renewed appreciation and motivation to poke them, C) give myself permission to never look at them again.

Some of these WIPs I 100% mean to finish one day. Some I know I won't. Some I have actually finished but haven't polished completely or something's getting in the way of me doing a final pass so I don't consider them worthy of going onto my Ao3 account just yet but hopefully will one day.

The WIPs I'm gonna upload are also of various lengths. I have some completed chapters that are thousands of words long, I have some that are mere hundreds of words long and are slips of ideas I started to formulate.

I have 10 AkuRoku WIPs and 6 Zakkura ones. Each week I'll post one WIP and the pattern will be 2 AkuRoku WIPs followed by 1 Zakkura to mix things up a bit. I'll blab a bit about the WIP and post the full WIP under the cut.

If there is anything in particular people would like to know about the stories or the creative process in future posts please let me know and I’ll incorporate more information if people are interested in that sort of thing. If you give me direction I can follow through.

I hope you will enjoy these WIPs and I trust you'll judge them way less harshly than what I judge my own writing.

So anyway, kicking things off I have a very short and sweet AkuRoku WIP.

I started this in May 2019 and it's technically 'done' but I haven't posted it because it's not done to my specific level of 'done-ness'. All it needs is a little polish. A little editing here and there. Fixing the grammatical and spelling errors, and fleshing it out in a few spots perhaps.

It's the 'fleshing out' bit that hasn't happened and that's truly stopping me from considering this a finished product.

This story is called ‘10 ways to fall in love’ but I never came up with 10 scenarios which I suspect is why this story will never be finished. I could change the name of it and if I ever post it I will change the name of it. In fact, most of the WIPs I post would have different names if they ever do go up on Ao3.

But going back to this specific WIP— it is a canon story spanning Days, KH2, KH3, and after, which is maybe the biggest culprit in regards to why I never finished this story. I don’t do well with canon-based story telling. It’s too much pressure to get everything canon-compliant. Do people ask for things to be right? Probably not so much, but my brain is very hyperfocused on getting things right, which is a huge road block to my creativity and the reason why I prefer AUs.

I don't have much else to say about this story but if you enjoy this, or any of the other WIP’s it would be great if you would let me know.

If others are passionate about these stories it might make me passionate about them again. But who knows.

Rated G

Word count - 951

10 ways to fall in love

What do you call it?

This feeling I have?

Love?

No. Too strong, or not strong enough

A name

A special name

Your name

It was always your name

That made me feel like I had a heart

They didn’t have a name for it. They didn’t even know if what they felt was real because how could a Nobody feel anything. For Axel it was just a ghost of a memory of his old life. For Roxas it was an endless source of confusion because these strange sensations fluttered in his body all the time when he was around Axel. It was incredibly dull at first but grew exponentially bigger with the passing days.

He couldn’t reconcile that even the most tedious missions were made fun when they were around each other - though he shouldn’t be able to have fun without a heart. What were any of the experiences that ever happened between them, without a heart? They felt nothing. They were Nobodies. They couldn't be anything other than empty husks.

That had always been the greatest lie which had been told to them, which they chose to believe, until it became impossible, though the denial sat rife in the way they denied their joy, sadness, and anger. But the strongest denial flowed from the warmth and nameless affections that fluttered in the chest and stomach when they were together. Such a thing was most unbelievable of all and merely a figment of the imagination - a vestige of when they were Somebodies, a quiet echo in a vast nothingness of their actual existence. Even for Roxas, with his half-formed ideas of his Somebodies life.

But none of these things mattered because Roxas disappeared and Axel died.

"He made me feel like I had a heart." A quiet whisper of a thought, made real and said aloud finally crumbled the paper-thin veneer which Axel had clung too, all too late to do anything about.

And he is reborn, and now knows better. Lea knows better. He understands his returned heart which aches and bleeds broken and shattered even as it is physically whole inside himself, pumping blood. His soul has gone, reappearing for fleeting moments when he sees Sora get a certain look in his eyes, or uses a turn of phrase. A spark exists and it jolts Lea every time closer to awareness - closer to a name.

And then he is in that most miserable of places, fighting a war that might never be won, but he must try because the promise of what lies ahead if he does win is worth every risk. He fights for his friends, present and gone, and then out of almost nowhere Lea's heart is returned and whole and stronger than ever before, and his memories are back, and he holds the two people most dear to him. He cannot lose them again and does everything in his power to protect them both, and it is a safe feeling because it stops him from thinking too hard or feeling too strongly the flutters and warmth, and the soothing in his heart.

But he feels it all again, and let's himself be overcome by it as the never-setting sun of Twilight Town is observed with his most favorite people in the whole wide world sitting next to him.

He scooches a little closer, seeking the warmth and reassurance of Roxas next to him. The tinkling laugh builds his own and drips deep down into his body and soul to become the best sound he's always known to miss.

Happiness engulfs him. But it is not the word he looks for when he sees Roxas walking, talking, laughing, grumbling, and eating ice cream. It is so much bigger and all-encompassing than this miniscule word for a feeling..

"I never stopped wanting you back. I never stopped fighting to get you back," he confesses in the evening on Destiny Island, during a rare moment alone on this summer vacation full of reunions and happy tidings.

"I know. I saw, I heard."

"You did?"

Roxas nods and swings his legs as they dangle off the pier the both of them at sitting on.

It warms Lea’s heart to know Roxas was never far away. “I think I felt you – there in Sora. When he got angry and frustrated.”

Roxas laughs. “I was always angry and frustrated in Sora. Everything felt so warm and fluffy inside of there.”

“Realy? Why would that make you angry?”

“Because it’s like eating nothing but honey – you get sick of it,” Roxas shakes his head, “But it’s worse because someone else is force-feeding it to you.”

"It's ok. Just seeing you – knowing you were there wanting to get me back was enough." Roxas leans, Lea receives and the feels which are always right there, in the middle of his chest ignite and burn so bright.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to help you."

Lea hugs him tight, almost too tight. Roxas writhes against his arms and just as Lea makes to let go Roxas gets his own arms around Lea and squeezed him, robbing him of his breath for a few seconds, but Lea feels he could happily die in Roxas' arms and savors the crush.

They both end up laughing against each other, inhaling deep breaths, rubbing their cheeks against each other and leaning their foreheads together.

Everything they ever felt for each other is still there, but stronger, because they have hearts and acceptance of their reality.

"Axel," Roxas' breath tickles Lea's lips. He doesn't care to correct Roxas. Roxas could call him a heartless and he wouldn't care because Roxas is back and with him.

"I don't want you to ever disappear again," Lea murmurs.

"I don't want you to ever suffer again," Roxas apologizes.

Lea cups Roxas' cheek, which is so soft and warm. "I never will as long as you're with me."

#woeful wip wednesday #akuroku #akrk #cream pudding writes #wip #probably mostly finished

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cutesuki--bakugou · 4 years

Text

Summer Solitude pt. 2

Main Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Koge Naegi (OC)

Story Rating: Explicit

Genre: Fluff / Romance / Domestic

Story Warnings: Cursing, brief sex (vaginal) and fingering, A LOT flirting, playful spanking, vague mentions of kinks, mostly fluff and just silliness

Words: 4,047

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3

Written for the @bnhabookclub ‘s members bingo event!

Crossed off: Trickery (not on my card, replacement of an accidental repeat)

Bingo Masterlist

Art in banner by me

“Get your hand off my booty. You’re gonna mess up my tan.”

“Tan? Utsuro, you don’t tan. You burn. You’re already pink, you know. You need more sunscreen.” Bakugou’s hand ran down along the back of Koge’s thigh, the pressure of his grip and natural roughness of his palms bringing a small sigh of pleasure from her lips. Laying on her stomach, she had sprawled out on a blanket the couple had placed in the grass near the water, soaking in some of the hot summer sun. Sitting beside her, Bakugou was content to munch on some watermelon, stabbing squares of the juicy fruit with his toothpick before bringing it to his lips. Along with his munching, he was a tad handsy, unable to really help touching Koge or stroking her skin, which was something the petite woman loved.

“I just put some on, like… ten minutes ago.” Turning her head, Koge rested her cheek against her folded forearms, eyes scanning his bare back. Each movement he made to pick up another piece of fruit flexed his broad shoulders and caused his muscles to ripple, bringing a heat to Koge’s cheeks that wasn’t at all related to the sun. Even his arm as it moved with his continuous slow stroking of her thigh had her stomach fluttering, nearly mesmerized by his form. What was worse, his skin was shiny and wet with remnants of the lake water, as he had just come back up from a quick dip while Koge soaked in the sun.

And as she watched a droplet of water slide down along his side, she knew that she had made a mistake making that bet earlier. Now she was really paying the price.

Koge knew that Bakugou could tell, too, and he wasn’t taking this challenge lightly. Sure, he wasn’t jumping her bones every second he could, but he was still doing exactly what Koge had expected. In between his more casual affection, he’d randomly toss in a more sensual touch, a lingering of his lips, or a flash of his crimson glare that could set Koge off in seconds. Even now as he focused on eating, his fingers trailed along her inner thigh, lightly brushing against her clothed sex. If he was doing it on purpose at the moment, she couldn’t be sure, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to ask and give away that she was struggling.

“Gimme a bite?” Koge smiled up at him as he glanced over his shoulder in response to her words, his cheek puffed out as he chewed. Compliant, Bakugou stabbed a new piece, leaning back and supporting himself with his elbow to easily bring the fruit to her lips. Koge was quick to open wide and hold it between her teeth while Bakugou pulled the stick back, humming softly in happiness as she ate the juicy treat. “Mmm! That watermelon is really sweet!”

“I can think of a few things that are sweeter.” Staying in his laid-back position, Bakugou licked some of the watermelon juice from his fingers, once again sending a heat rushing through Koge like a fire.

Jerk! He’s too good at this.

“Yeah, me too. Like grapes. Or just candy.”

“Sure, Utsuro.” Smirking in his silent, smug victory, Bakugou pushed his still damp hair back out of his face, the water slicking it back and causing it to cling to itself. “If that’s what comes to mind.”

Unable to handle gazing upon his glistening chest and abs, Koge shoved her face back into the blanket as casually as she could, silently screaming in her mind and cursing herself for being so stupid. “Is there something else that should have come to mind?”

“I already know something else came to mind.”

“I’m not saying it!”

“What? Struggling not to lose?”

Koge could hear the smirk in his voice, her skin tingling as his fingers lightly and slowly trailed down her spine. Huffing, she rolled over on her back away from him in hopes that he couldn’t reach her anymore. “I won’t lose!” Glowering at him, she pushed herself up to sit on her elbows, having to control the screaming urge to look down at his body. “You promised you wouldn’t try hard!”

Bakugou scoffed, taking a large bite out of a larger slice of watermelon, since all the little pieces had been eaten. It was as if he were purposefully showing off his impressive bite and teeth, which was just another turn on for Koge, who couldn’t help but imagine those teeth sinking into the skin of her inner thighs. “Utsuro, I’m not trying hard,” Bakugou paused to lick his lips, ignoring the juice of the fruit that dripped onto his chest from the slice in his hand. “You’re just horny. You can’t win.”

“I’m not. You are trying hard, everything you’re doing is so extra!”

“I’m just eating watermelon. It’s not my fault you’re seeing that as sexual.” Taking another bite, the blonde munched away before tossing the slice back into its large bowl, searching for a napkin that he used to wipe his mouth and chest of the dribbling juice. “Fuck that shit gets everywhere.”

Huffing, Koge flopped back to lay down, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared up at the blue sky. “I hate you.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“See, now you’re just working against yourself, jokes like that will get you no pussy.”

“Shut up,” Leaning over, Bakugou caressed her flushed cheek, kissing her lips softly. “You’re too cute to argue.”

“Don’t pull that with me,” Koge gripped onto his forearm lightly, not wanting him to back away. “You know I can’t resist your sweet talk.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bakugou kissed her again, scooting his body in closer to half-hover over her easier, one of his legs coming to rest casually between hers. “All I have to do is call you the B-word and you’re gonna lose that bet real quick.”

“Calling me a bitch only works in certain situations, love.”

“I don’t mean that B-word.”

Cheeks growing hotter, Koge narrowed her eyes at him, nudging his nose with hers lightly. “Don’t you dare. That’d be cheating! Especially with your voice still being a little raspy from losing it the other day while you were sick… You’d make me cum just from your voice.”

“Yeah?” Bakugou chuckled, letting his hand slide down from her cheek to instead rest on her stomach. “Then what? I’d make you cum with my voice, but that’s not enough for you.” His lips still dangerously close, Bakugou didn’t break eye contact with her as his fingers trailed down across her skin towards her hips. His touch was so light it made Koge’s entire body tingle in ticklish pleasure, almost finding it hard to not twitch away. “You’d need more.”

“You don’t know that.” The involuntary waver in her voice didn’t go undetected, a new smug smirk spreading across Bakugou’s lips.

“I do know. I know, because your slutty little body craves my fat cock inside you. It can’t be satisfied until I’ve fucked you into a crying stupor.” His lips were right up against hers now, brushing as he spoke and only teasing Koge’s parted mouth with a hint of a kiss. She knew exactly what he was doing, yet she couldn’t pull away or resist him, her breathing growing heavier with her anxious energy. She wanted him so bad, but how could she give in already, only a couple of hours after their bet had been placed? Instead of any protest, only one word could slip from her strangled throat.

“Katsuki…”

“That’s right, baby,” Bakugou’s smirk only grew more wicked at Koge’s physical reaction to the pet name, her body arching up into his touch as his hand slipped beneath her bikini bottoms, two of his fingers stroking along her already soaking wet cunt and teasing her clit just as the word left his mouth. “Say my name and give into me.” His lips crashed down onto hers without any resistance, her mouth even opening eagerly for him to completely take control. Suddenly, a rush of pleasure as his fingers dug into her needy pussy snapped Koge out of her haze, making her squeal and wiggling out from under him, fumbling to her feat.

“No, no, no! No! You aren’t allowed to do that! That’s SUPER try hard mode!” Pointing an accusing finger at him, Koge was only made more flustered as his smirk returned, her heart nearly leaping out of her mouth at the sight of him licking clean the fingers he had put inside her. “Katsuki!”

“Mm, delicious. Sweeter than watermelon.”

“Ugh!” With a stomp of her foot, Koge stormed off towards the lake, not looking back at her tease of a husband in hopes it would keep her away. “You’re not gonna win!”

“You know I like a challenge, Utsuro. That cute little ass of yours is going to be tied up tonight. Just wait.”

“No, you will be buying us a hot tub! That’s what’s gonna happen!”

Chuckling, Bakugou sat up, doing his best to ignore the aching of his cock, speaking quietly to himself. “I wonder if I should tell her they’ve already ordered one? Hm… Nah.”

…

“Katsuki, you’ve really gone all out on this! When did you have time to bring all this food up here? When you said we were going on a date, I didn’t expect all of this.” Koge couldn’t resist the bright smile on her face as she munched away on a delicious slice of seasoned beef, the light twinge of Bakugou’s favorite spices tickling her lips. “Yum!”

“I didn’t. I haven’t been here before, remember?” Bakugou glanced back at her over his shoulder, though most of his attention was on the pan where he had a variety of vegetables sautéing. Holding on firmly to the handle of the pan, he used quick and precise movements to flip the contents about, reminding Koge just how dwarfed her cooking skills were compared to his. “I had my dad help.”

“You’re so sneaky.” Koge narrowed her eyes at him, her stomach fluttering in happiness from his effort and attention to their needs for the weekend, as well as making sure she was truly enjoying herself. “You’re not trying to butter me up for something, are you?”

With a click of his tongue, Bakugou brought the still sizzling pan over towards her, using a set of tongs to grab and place the veggies onto her plate. “And what if I was?”

“Then I’d say yes no matter what.”

“Damn right.” After giving himself a portion on his own plate, Bakugou placed the pan back down on a cold burner of the stove, turning the other off while he was at it. “But no, I’m not. You deserve this.”

Cheeks flushing, Koge grew a bit timid from his words, pulling her legs up into her chair to sit cross legged. “Thank you, Katsuki… That means a lot to me.”

A kiss to the top of the head was given to her before Bakugou took his seat beside her, beginning to chow down on his food. “What do you think of this outdoor kitchen set up?”

“I like it!” Koge glanced around them, eyeing the covered patio they were sat under and the row of cabinets that sported an oven and sink. From their chairs at the round metal table they were eating on, they both had the perfect view of the lake and setting sun, which painted the sky with lilac, cream, and coral hues. The glistening water reflected the masterpiece, bringing about such a calming sense of serenity. It truly was heaven, made perfect by the delicious food and the love of the man beside her. “I love everything about this place. Especially just getting to be alone with you.”

“It’s been a long time. I don’t think we’ve gotten a full day to ourselves since Natsu was born. It’s so different from how it used to be.” Bakugou paused for a moment to eat, carefully shoveling some meat into his mouth with his chopsticks. “But, it just makes this more special. Reminds me of why and how much I love you.”

“Aw, Katsuki,” Koge scooted her chair up close to him, resting her head against his shoulder. “I love you. I know adjusting to being parents and being married is really hard, but… We’re getting through it together. And even though I know you don’t think you have, you’ve been as wonderful as always, to me and the kids. Sometimes I miss it being just you and me, but I wouldn’t trade what we have now for anything.”

“Me either. Here, you have a little-” Since Koge had been looking up at him, Bakugou took a moment to wipe her bottom lip lightly with his thumb, wiping away some stray sauce. Koge giggled, her face flushed and eyes never leaving his face.

“Sorry, I’m a bit messy.”

“Mm, yeah you are.” A deep hum rattled in his chest as he kissed her. “Messy, cute little sexy thing. If you get that sauce all over you, I’ll just end up having to clean you up myself.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Some extra sauce.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get some extra special sauce later.”

“You won’t!” Koge got one more kiss before she returned to eating, which Bakugou mimicked. “You’re not going to win. I’ve done so good. You haven’t gotten me since that nonsense with the B-word.”

“For now.”

With a roll of her eyes and a playful nudge to his side, the two fell silent to eat in peace, listening to the rippling water and the sounds of nighttime creatures around them. Once the two were done eating, Bakugou presented Koge with her favorite dessert of matcha mochi ice cream and chocolate syrup, which had her drooling and beaming with delight. By the time dinner was complete, the sun was set, blanketing the lake with darkness. The little backyard paradise was flooded with crackling light, however, as the firepit had been brought to life. Poking at the smoldering logs with a long poker, Bakugou shuffled them around until he was content, leaving it resting close by before approaching his wife.

With a gentle stroke to the top of her head, he flopped to sit down beside her on the bench she had picked, letting one arm rest around her shoulders. “How’s that?”

“It’s perfect.” Koge pulled her legs up into the seat, cuddling into and resting against his side. “I love this. I want everything to be just like this when we retire. Just at the coast instead.”

“Hm. I can see that. A private oceanfront place. Though up in the mountains would be fucking nice, too. Surrounded by trees.”

“But the bugs.”

“Fuck the bugs, they wouldn’t be that bad.”

“Hmm…” Koge turned a bit to rest her head against his shoulder, her hand sliding up his torso to his chest. “You know they would be. You’d have icky creepy crawlies all over you.”

“I already do. Two icky creepy crawlies that always climb all over me.”

“Only two?”

“Well, three. Counting you. The biggest creepy crawly.” Taking hold of her chin lightly to lift her head up, Bakugou placed a tender kiss on her lips, bringing a happy hum from her chest. “Grossest, too. I’ve never seen such a gross bug.”

“I’m like your flea. Always attached to you.”

Chuckling, Bakugou leaned back comfortably again, looking up at the night sky. “You are tiny like a flea. Damn, Utsuro, did you see the sky?”

“Hm?” Resting her head back down, Koge turned her gaze to look up at the stars, a small gasp leaving her lips. “Wow! You can’t see this back home!” The night sky was more magnificent than Koge had seen in many years, with twinkling stars and swirling streams of color within the inky and never-ending blackness. It made her feel so small to stare up into the unknown, yet she felt comforted by Bakugou’s strong arm around her, knowing that even if aliens did suddenly come down to attack the planet, at least he would be there with her though it all.

“Do you believe in aliens, Katsuki?”

“Do you think we’re the only living thing in the universe?”

“No.”

“Me either. Unless we’re nothing but a simulation.”

Koge giggled softly, still mesmerized by the sky above her. “Oh yeah? Then what would all the stars be? A hologram. Geez, that one start is really twinkling, you see it? Oh look! There’s the Taurus constellation! That’s your western zodiac sign, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I don’t really know a lot about them though.”

“They’re assholes.”

“Tch, oh yeah?!” Bakugou pinched her cheek playfully, making her whine and attempt to push him off her. “And what’s yours, huh? The one that’s a little bitch, I bet!”

“Scorpio! And that’s not a little bitch sign, that’s a bad bitch sign. Don’t make me have to prove it to you.”

“Oh, and what would you do, little flea?”

“Don’t you know anything about fleas, Katsuki? They bite,” In one fluid motion, Koge sunk her teeth into the side of his neck as she crawled up onto his lap, ignoring his curses. Although the first bite was the roughest, they grew significantly less visions as she trailed them down his neck to his shoulder, though she was stopped by the strap of his tank. “I’ll bite you all over!”

“Then I’ll just have to squish you, won’t I?” With one strong arm wrapped around her torso to keep her from squirming away, Bakugou brought his full palm down onto her ass, making her burst out into giggles and squeals. “No, no, you little bug, you’re not getting away!” Another slap had Koge struggling with all her might to get away, but her strength was nothing compared to the muscular man that had her trapped. A single glance at his face told her that he was enjoying it, too, the amused and malicious smirk on his lips giving it away.

“Katsuki! This isn’t fair! You can hold me down with one arm!” Koge retaliated with another rough bite, this time right below his earlobe. At first, a hiss was Bakugou’s only reaction, until he released a low growl deep in his chest, his large hand switching from spanking to groping. With his fingers splayed out across her cheek and a firm grip, he pulled her hips in up against his, presenting to her his very obvious and eagerly twitching cock beneath his shorts.

“You’d better watch it, Utsuro, or I’m going to make you lose that bet real quick.”

“You won’t.” Smirking against his skin, Koge nibbled her way along his jawline, ending with a bite and a tug to his earlobe. “You like it when I bite you, huh? You like to be bit just as much as you like to bite.”

A deep grunt escaped Bakugou’s throat as she pressed her hips tighter against his, putting pressure on his strained member in the same moment that her teeth sunk into his neck. “This is considered giving in, isn’t it?”

“Nope. There’s nothing in the rules about me teasing you. I have to give in to you enticing me.” Holding back a sigh of pleasure at the pressure against her clit and the feeling of his cock twitching between her legs, Koge let her fingers snake up into his blonde locks, massaging and tugging in time with her bites and rolling of her hips. “You’re so submissive today.”

“Don’t fucking call me that. You’ll regret it.” The slight whine in his voice immediately had Koge feeling rushed with a sexual power that she very rarely got to experience with him, and the thought of getting to push his buttons a bit clouded any other thought in her mind.

His grip on her hips have loosened, Koge was able to maneuver her hands down between their bodies, easily slipping his hard cock from his shorts. Taking hold of him, Koge’s heart nearly leapt out of her throat at the hitching breath he took in, her thumb rolling around his tip to tease him with the precum that had been dribbling down his shaft. “Poor thing.” Koge hummed, her lips and teeth sliding along his skin. “You’ve been trying so hard all day, and this is what happens? You end up whining and just letting me do whatever I want.”

Her touch became more aggressive, slipping one of her hands into her own shorts to coat it in her own slick while she pumped his cock. “Seeing you like this really gets to me, Katsuki. I just want to eat you up.”

Bakugou’s breath grew heavier the longer she pleasured him, until his hips began to buck up into her touch. “C’mon!” He hissed between his teeth, his face shoved into her shoulder. “I want to stick my cock in you so fucking bad. Let me fuck you!”

“I don’t think so, Katsuki.”

A trembling moan left his lips, his hands gripping onto her hips tightly in hopes that she wouldn’t move. “Yes! Baby, please,” Speaking directly into her ear now, his low and desperate voice had Koge’s head spinning, unable to think about anything else but him. “Please, baby. Let me fuck you. I need it.”

Moving on impulse, Koge shifted her clothing out of the way, shifting her hips up and sinking his entire cock into dripping, aching pussy all the way to the base, the pleasure immediately making Koge tremble and bite down onto her bottom lip. Though, before she could even think about moving her hips, Bakugou’s grip on them grew tighter, and a triumphant chuckle rattled in his chest.

“I fucking got you, Utsuro.”

“Wha- a-ah!!” Koge’s voice cracked into moans as Bakugou began to thrust his hips up into her, his entire demeanor flipping like a switch. Behind the hazy pleasure, Koge began to realize that he had been doing. He had used her craving for a bit of dominance against her, making her think that she was the one in control the entire time. “K-Katsuki! That’s mean!”

“You lose, Utsuro. Now shut up and take my fat cock like a good little slut.” His threatening growl in her ear immediately broke her into submission, gripping onto his shoulders tightly as she took over bouncing on his cock, slamming it within her from tip to base. “Good girl. Show me how much you’ve wanted that fucking cock.”

It was true that Koge had been craving him since the early morning hours, but with the bet they had set so early on, she had been pushing back against him so intently that she was sure she’d win. Yet, he was able to break her without even having to really touch her himself. Sure, she was frustrated with that, but there wasn’t a single thought in her mind that told her to stop. Just feeling his cock inside her, filling up every inch of her cunt had her feeling like she was going completely mad already. She wanted more. She needed more.

“Katsuki-!”

“What’s wrong? Fucking yourself on my cock not good enough for you?” Using his strength, Bakugou stopped her from bouncing, his dick slipping out of her and leaving her aching. Whining, Koge looked down between their bodies, able to see glistening threads of her slick still connecting them together. She was so horny she’d do anything for him at this point just so he would keep fucking her.

“I-I want you to fuck me, Katsuki. Please!”

“I won the bet, you know. Don’t you think I deserve my prize?”

Koge’s heart skipped a beat, growing nervous just from the thought of what he had wanted. A rough session of light bondage and a bit of knife play, which was something they had never tried before. They had researched it before, but never got around to it with children at home, but now they had an entire house and night to themselves. Yes, the unknown was scary, but how incredibly hot it made her had her answer slipping from her lips before she could really even think.

“Please do whatever you want to me, Katsuki.”

#bnhabookclub #bakugou #bakugou x oc #bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #bnha fanfiction #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha oc #oc #original character #bakugou x koge #koge #cutesuki-oc #bingo

59 notes · View notes

thepartyresponsible · 4 years

Text

welcome to the all fluff, all the time network. i said here that i was taking prompts, but i neglected to mention that i’m writing all of them as fluff. or as close to fluff as i can manage, anyway.

this one’s for the anon who asked for jason with anyone with the prompt “please don’t do this.”

it’s a standalone piece of a much longer hockey au. endgame is jason, bucky, and frank.

---

“Please don’t do this.”

“Oh,” Jason says, “I’m gonna do it.”

“Jason,” Bucky says. He leans over, as close as he can get. He’s pale, a little wide-eyed, bottom lip red from his attempts to bite back the pain. “Come on.”

The trainer doesn’t look up from carefully rotating Bucky’s arm, checking the range of motion, but Jason knows damn well that the little frown on his face is not good news.

They were on Injured Reserve together, him and Bucky. Back when Jason first got traded, when he showed up with – no shit – hundreds of stitches in his throat and exactly zero endearing personality traits. Barnes had been quiet, distracted, kinda lost in his head, but he’d always been so Goddamn nice. From day one, when Jason showed up exactly like some prissy, sullen bastard who’d never been traded, never expected to be traded, never wanted to suit up in anything other than Bats’ black and gold, Barnes had treated him like he was something worth keeping around.

And here they are, five games into Barnes’ big comeback, and Brock fucking Rumlow just took a swipe at Bucky’s freshly-healed arm.

Castle’s out sick, or this would be his responsibility. Hell, if Castle were playing tonight, Rumlow probably would’ve kept his fucking hands to himself.

The Avengers don’t need an enforcer. That’s not Jason’s job. But Jason considers himself a well-rounded player. He can fill in where he’s needed.

“I’m gonna fucking do it, Buck,” Jason says, eyeing his route, sighting his target. “I’m definitely gonna do it.”

“Todd,” Coulson says, tone kinda sharp but not angry like he means it, “we don’t need any theatrics right now.”

“Philly,” Jason says, “Philadelphia. Cream Cheese. All I’ve got is theatrics.”

Coulson sighs and turns his eyes skyward. He keeps Jason on the bench until the Avengers score on the power play, and then he sets him loose. As far as Jason’s concerned, that’s practically a benediction.

Thor heads in for a change, worried eyes pinned on Bucky, and Jason’s over the boards and racing up the ice a full two seconds too early, like too many men is a summation of his recent dating history and not a perfectly fucking legitimate penalty.

Not that his behavior would indicate he gives a good Goddamn about taking penalties right now.

He does – and he hopes Bruce notices this when he watches the tape later, hopes Alfred appreciates the depth of his personal growth – wait to drop his gloves until after Rumlow calls him a pretty boy and a bitch and a coward who lost his balls. He waits, like a professional, until Rumlow’s own gloves hit the ice before he throws a mean, messy uppercut directly to his throat.

Rumlow’s a good fighter. It’s why his fans love him. He floods his Instagram every summer with pictures of himself shirtless and sweating in a boxing ring. Jason shouldn’t know that, probably, but it’s not like he’s ever had a problem compartmentalizing I wanna fuck you and I wanna fuck you up when he needs to.

Rumlow fights like someone who knows how, who learned in a ring with his knuckles taped or behind a school with someone to hold the other kid’s arms back. He knows to go for weak points, mainly. It’s served him well so far.

Jason hasn’t been in a fight since the one that damn near killed him. And he never had any formal boxing lessons, but he grew up doing his best not to get stabbed to death in Gotham’s back alleys, and the result of that practical training is a fighting style Roy Harper once fondly described as honey badger on a life-altering hit of PCP.

Jason’s swallowing blood when it’s over. His knuckles are fucked, and there’s an unfriendly tingling in his gumline that suggests his emergency dentist might be about to earn herself another tropical vacation, but Rumlow’s flat out on the ice, and he’s bloodier than Jason, and that’s all that matters.

Jason goes, easy and compliant, when the linesman pulls him away. Wide-eyed and innocent, who, me? all the way to the bench because maybe it’ll make the officials more lenient. It must work well enough, because they both take five minute majors, but Jason dodges the instigator penalty, saved by Rumlow’s notorious willingness to fight anyone smaller than himself or maybe by the mercy of officials who just watched him slam his stick against Bucky’s arm like he was trying to split firewood.

A five minute major with 4:38 left in the third period. So that’s the end of Jason’s game, then. Worth it.

Bucky isn’t on the bench when Jason gets skates up, but Wilson gives him an approving clap on the shoulder as Jason shuffles toward the tunnel, and it settles Jason enough that he gets all the way through the trainer’s pestering, weathers them checking his teeth and patching his knuckles, and then walks himself to the locker room before his lungs forget how to process oxygen.

“I asked you not to,” Bucky says, long-suffering but still so fucking nice. He wraps his good hand around Jason’s neck and tips him forward. “Breathe.”

“Fucking,” Jason says, as he tries to focus on a sane breathing pattern. “Fuck you, Buck. I wasn’t gonna—we just got you back.”

He feels like his throat is closing up.

It’s the blood in his mouth, he thinks. And the blood he saw on the ice. The crowd, roaring like that. Bloodthirsty.

They’d been thirsty like that in Gotham when he squared off against Bane. Biggest fucking guy in the league, and there was Jason, scrappy and pissed off, fighting Bane because Bruce wouldn’t.

He’d known he was gonna get hurt. He’d been ready for that.

It was an accident, what happened. Bruce didn’t mean it, and Jason’s heard, if you watch the footage, you can see Bane trying to stop it, his giant hands grabbing for Jason as he falls.

Jason’s never watched it. He doesn’t need to see himself catch Bruce’s skate blade with his throat. He lived through it. That was enough.

“I had to, Buck,” Jason says. He’s got his head propped against Bucky’s shoulder, and Bucky, because he’s a nice guy, because he’s a good teammate, is running his hand through Jason’s incredibly disgusting, sweat-soaked hair. “He hit you, and Frank’s not here, and Rogers can’t leave the crease, so--”

“You’re sweet,” Bucky says, which is something no one has ever said to Jason.

“Had to,” Jason repeats. Because it’s not about being sweet. It’s about making sure everyone knows what’ll happen if they hurt his people.

“My arm’s gonna be fine,” Bucky says. “They took some x-rays, just to check. But it’s gonna be fine.”

Jason breathes out, and his lungs remember their function, and he can breathe again. “Good,” he says. He scrubs at his face. His hands barely come away bloody at all.

“Shit,” Bucky says, with a heavy sigh. He takes his hand out of Jason’s hand, slides his fingers carefully along his cheek to his jaw, and then he lifts Jason’s face toward the light. He frowns at the split lip, the forming bruise. “Frank’s gonna kill me.”

“What?” Jason says. He runs his tongue over his lip, and Bucky’s eyes track the movement. There’s a weird, wrung-out feeling twisting in the pit of Jason’s stomach. “I’m the one who didn’t— he just whacked the shit out of your arm, Buck. Right in front of me.”

Bucky smiles at him, crooked and a little rueful. He stares at him for a second longer, and then he pulls back. There is, faint but still audible, the roar of a hometown crowd getting a victory.

Well, they were up 4-1 when Jason went after Rumlow. Whatever Bruce, and Tim, and all of Gotham’s management think, Jason isn’t incapable of growth. He’s getting better. He is learning, finally, to pick his battles.

Maybe all he needed was to get the fuck out of Gotham. And someday he’ll probably even feel alright about being wrenched out of his hometown and discarded like trash down a storm drain.

“You should take a shower,” Bucky tells him. “Put some ice on those hands. The guys’ll wanna buy you drinks.”

After Jason’s second-to-last fight in Gotham, he watched from the penalty box while the other team scored the goal that won them the game. Bruce was so mad that nobody in the locker room spoke a word afterwards. Nobody talked to Jason at all.

After his last fight in Gotham, the Bats traded him while he was still in the hospital.

It’s been a long damn time since anyone bought him drinks after he fought for his team. Since back before Roy was traded. Since way back in the early days, when he was a rising star instead of a letdown and a liability.

“You think so?” Jason says, biting back a smile. “No shit?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. He’s smiling when he does it, so there’s no sting to it at all. “Go get cleaned up,” he says. “No one’s gonna let you in a bar with blood on your face.”

There are bars in Gotham that wouldn’t recognize him any other way. But Jason’s starting to think – with a stupid, flickering hope he’d left for dead years ago – that maybe things will be different now.

#writing #fic #fill #hockey au

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chemicalcindercat · 3 years

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For a brief second, as Miguel’s back collided with the table behind the couch, he was right back on those stairs, the sick crunching sound of his ribs and spine colliding with the railing and then the stairs in his ears, paired with the darkness of his coma swallowing him up.

How is Miguel supposed to win a fight against Kyler, when every other hit brings back awful memories?

Miguel has PTSD during the Season 3 Finale Fight Scene.

CONTAINS SEASON 3 SPOILERS, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Chapters: 1 (3,341 words)

Fandom: Cobra Kai (Youtube/Netflix Series)

Rating: T, (canon-typical violence, and language)

Relationships: Miguel Diaz and Johnny Lawrence

Additional Tags: angst, karate fight, season 3 spoilers, based off of the season 3 finale, canon-typical violence, canon compliant, i changed it up slightly, but not that much, i love Miguel, Miguel Diaz needs a hug, Johnny Lawrence tries to be a good sensei, ptsd, flashbacks, i used flashbacks as an excuse to write past scenes i really wanted to write, fight me

From the moment Kyler walked into the room, Miguel’s mind was already drifting. Brief memories of his past fights with the other boy floated around Miguel’s memory, too far away for him to focus on any of them, but too close for him to ignore them.

“It’s payback time, Rhea.”

Just like that, the snippets of past events were gone, blown away by the emotions welling up inside of Miguel at the sound of the asshole’s voice. Mostly anger, for all the times he couldn’t defend himself against them, but there was also some fear there as well. That was new. Since when was Miguel afraid of Kyler again? He hadn’t seen the bully much since he kicked Kyler’s ass in the cafeteria that day, but the few times he had seen the other boy, he definitely hadn’t been afraid of him anymore. So why was now any different? Why did the fact that Kyler had joined Cobra Kai surprise him, let alone scare him?

Miguel tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. If Cobra Kai wanted to randomly start a fight with them, they could handle themselves. They’d done it before.

...Even if last time Miguel was on Cobra kai’s side, and ended up in the hospital afterwards.

Miguel quickly leaned down and helped Bert up, the poor kid’s face covered in blood. He knew Bert wasn’t that much younger than him, and he could take a beating, but

nobody deserved to be thrown through a window like that.

Well, except for maybe Kyler or Robby.

“Let’s go,” said Kyler, as he, Hawk, and the rest of the Cobra Kai pupils- No wait, that wasn’t right, they didn’t deserve to call themselves Cobra Kai pupils. Not after turning their backs on Sensei Lawrence like that, not after choosing Kreese over them. Whatever Kreese was teaching them, it was not Cobra Kai Karate- stalked forward, and without thinking, the students of Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang Karate backed up, mentally preparing themselves to fight their former friends.

They didn’t get far. The door behind them slammed open, and Miguel (along with everyone else) whirled around to see none other than Tory, with two other Cobra Kai thugs standing there, trapping them in between the groups.

This wasn’t a spur of the moment fight, like Miguel had first thought. This was a thoroughly planned out ambush.

“Heard you were throwing a party,” Tory said as she stalked around the couch, reminding Miguel of a deadly predator. “Hope you don’t mind if we crash.”

Miguel felt Sam tense up beside him. “Tory, you don’t have to do this.” He said quickly, hoping that some part of the girl he had liked before the coma the fight at the school had happened was still left. The girl who kicked his ass at karate playfully, but never wanted to hurt anyone. At least, Miguel hadn’t thought she wanted to hurt anyone.

...Maybe Miguel had just been so hurt and angry, he was blind to what Tory was capable of.

Tory’s eyes narrowed. “It’s too late. This ends tonight.” She spat, taking a step forward. “NO MERCY!!”

And with that, all hell broke loose.

Miguel got into the battle stance Sensei Lawrence had taught him so long ago without even thinking about it, Sam mirroring him. Tory went straight for Sam, but Chris jumped in the way at the last second, and she gave him a punch to the stomach before pushing him to the side. After that, Miguel lost sight of her as one of the goons she had walked in with took a swing at him. Miguel easily dodged, grabbing the guy’s arm and using his weight against him to swing him away.

Someone else aimed for Miguel’s face, and he barely had enough time to register that this was not a teammate and he needed to duck, before sweeping the guy’s legs. Panting a little Miguel stood up, and quickly noted that the first guy was starting to get back up. He pushed him into the couch and retreated to a corner of the living room where he could see better.

There were just too many people. Looking around, it was hard to tell who was who, and for a brief moment Miguel worried about the possibility of accidentally attacking one of his own teammates. Those fears quickly vanished as he locked eyes with his target.

Kyler.

Kyler smirked and quickly walked across the room. (Well, none of the current Cobra Kai students really walked anymore, they all strided as if stalking their prey.) Miguel weakly kicked his face, barely phasing him. Kyler punched him in the gut, and then the face, knocking Miguel over.

“You call that a kick?? C’mon!” Kyler yelled as Miguel picked himself up off of the ground. He spun around, into a roundhouse kick, hitting Kyler with all of his strength.

It wasn’t enough.

Kyler grabbed his leg and swung him off balance, throwing Miguel towards the couch.

“I’m sorry,”

Miguel let Robby’s arm drop to the floor. He didn’t mean for this to happen. He hadn’t wanted it to go this way. He wasn’t expecting Tory to start an all-out war like that, and somewhere along the way trying to break up Tory and Sam’s fight had turned into pinning Robby face down to the floor. Miguel let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in, and started to stand up.

A sudden elbow to the face, followed by a kick to the back as Robby flipped over and righted himself knocked Miguel down to his knees.

As Miguel struggled to get to his feet, all he could do was watch with wide eyes as a final kick to his chest made him lose balance.

And then he was falling.

In reality, Miguel knew he couldn’t have fallen for any longer than a couple seconds. However, in his panic, as his arms flailed for something to grab onto, the world seemed to slow down.

Time stood still.

The falling seemed to last forever.

All of the other fights stopped.

Everyone else was frozen, faces all a mix of shock and horror, eyes pinned on Miguel.

Nobody moved a muscle.

Miguel continued to fall.

Time resumed.

Just like that, it was over, and the world turned black.

Miguel couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t move.

For weeks he had been stuck in a wheelchair, trying to remember his fall. The only memories Miguel had were of trying to separate Sam and Tory, and then fighting Robby, showing Robby mercy, and then nothing. Everything else was either a blur, or darkness. He couldn’t remember being pushed, or falling. He wouldn’t have even known that it was all Robby’s fault if Hawk hadn’t explained what had happened to him.

When Miguel thought he wouldn’t be able to walk again, he wanted to remember the fight. He needed to. He needed to remember every last moment that led up to his coma, every last step he had taken, because if he wasn’t going to be able to walk again, the least life could do would be to let him remember his last steps.

Now that he remembered, however, he wished he could take it all back.

Miguel was stuck, frozen, everything hurt, he couldn’t move, his vision was going dark, he was going to fall for so long, and then hit the ground so hard, and he was going to be stuck in that stupid hospital and that stupid wheelchair all over again, he wouldn’t be able to walk, he wouldn’t be able to live, he wouldn’t be able to breathe-

Hands roughly grabbing his shoulders snapped Miguel out of it.

“Awww, are you gonna cry, Rhea?” Kyler laughed, dragging Miguel to his feet just to throw him on the ground. Before Miguel could get up, Kyler’s hands were on him again, dragging him up and slamming him into the wall. “Guess you could learn to walk again, but that useless Sensei of yours was too busy trying to be your daddy to teach you how to fight again.”

Miguel tried to dodge or fight back. Really, he did. But Kyler was punching him again, barely giving him time in between hits to register the pain, let alone to get his bearings together enough to hit back. Finally, as Kyler moved to get out of Tory’s way (was Sam running from her?) and dragged Miguel with him, Miguel managed to throw him off balance long enough to pull away. Kyler staggered to the side, and Miguel used the moment to land an uppercut punch to his jaw.

It was upsetting that his legs weren’t strong enough to land any hits, since Miguel was used to relying on his legs just as often and as naturally as he was his arms, but he knew that trying to fight Kyler with his legs would only lose him the fight.

So his arms it would be.

Kyler’s hand flew up to his mouth, checking for blood. He started to laugh when his hand came away clean. “Looks like your arms are just as weak as your legs. You’ll have to try a little harder than-”

Miguel cut him off with a punch to his chest. Kyler stumbled backwards, and then swung around with a kick aimed for Miguel’s side. Miguel moved to the side and grabbed Kyler’s leg, swinging him around and slamming him into the wall behind them with the same move Kyler had pulled on him earlier.

Miguel didn’t waste any time rejoicing, instead trying to punch Kyler in the face again. Kyler, however, wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice, and moved to the side at the last second, causing Miguel to punch a hole straight to the wall.

Kyler moved backwards into the kitchen. “C’mon, Rhea!” He baited, motioning with his hands for Miguel to follow. The other boy did, after sending a silent apology to Sam and the rest of the Larusso family in his mind, for destroying their house. “We’re not done yet, c’mon!” Miguel glared at Kyler as he followed. This asshole really didn’t ever shut his mouth, did he?

Miguel cried out, letting out a battle cry of sorts, and swung at Kyler. Blocking is a lot easier when you know your opponent won’t use his legs, however, and Kyler reflected every hit, even landing a few hits back on Miguel. After Kyler managed to block yet again, Miguel let his anger get the best of him, and kicked at Kyler without even thinking. The other boy easily dodged, and his reflection of the kick knocked Miguel back a little. The next time Miguel tried to punch him, Kyler flipped him over and slammed him into the ground.

Miguel barely registered the fact that Kyler and Hawk were high-fiving above him, before Kyler picked him off of the ground by the collar of his shirt and threw him into the wall. If Miguel didn’t have a concussion before, he probably did now. He cried out in pain, and tried to reflect the hits from the other boy, but his body was getting tired, still not used to all of this physical activity after being stuck in a wheelchair for so long, and his movements were becoming sluggish. Kyler slammed him into the wall once more, and started hitting him from behind.

“Oh shit!” Was all Miguel managed to cry out as he was slammed into a locker. He had managed to kick Kyler in the chest, but that was it. What was wrong with him?? He trained a little bit and suddenly thought he could take on four other boys?

They pulled him away from the locker and threw him onto the ground.

“Grab him up!” Kyler yelled from behind Miguel, as the other guys grabbed him by the ankles and started dragging him backwards.

“No! No no no!”

Miguel’s pleads were ignored as they pulled him further into the locker room. “Grab him! Kill him!” Kyler ordered.

Miguel managed to grab a hold of the corner and stop their attack, temporarily. “No! Let me go!” He begged, no longer caring about his pride. They would kill him, he knew they would. “Nooo!!”

They pulled him the rest of the way into the back of the locker room. Kyler grabbed a lacrosse stick and closed the chain-link door to the locker room, effectively trapping Miguel inside with them. The rest of the boys pulled Miguel to his feet and held him up, one holding each of his arms so he couldn’t pull away.

“You’re a dead man.” Kyler called as he walked over, a big smirk on his face, and pulled his arm back. He swung with his whole body, whacking Miguel in the gut with the lacrosse stick as hard as he could, before pulling back to do it again, and again. The boys yelled out cheers with every whack, drowning out the sound of Miguel’s pain.

After a couple hits, Miguel couldn’t hold himself up anymore. His legs gave out from under him, but the boys continued to hold him up long enough for Kyler to get one last hit in. Finally, they gave Miguel the relief of dropping to the ground. He lay there, trying not to cry, or throw up, or pass out.

Kyler walked over. “I’m not finished with you yet, Rhea!” He kicked Miguel in the face, and then nodded to encourage his friends to follow suit. Miguel was surrounded by all four boys, being kicked from every side. He curled in on himself, but it didn’t do much.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they got bored. Kyler lifted Miguel up by his skeleton hoodie, enough to hiss into his ear, “You better not forget who you’re messing with, Rhea. You brought this on yourself.”

With that, he let Miguel drop to the ground and walked away.

Miguel was shaking uncontrollably, but he tried to ignore his pain and focus on breathing. It felt like he couldn’t breathe, but if he didn’t breathe, he might pass out, and that could lead to even worse things.

In.

And out.

Miguel closed his eyes.

In.

And out.

He started to curl up again, but that caused more pain that it was worth, so he stopped.

In.

And out.

There were footsteps approaching.They were coming back. Maybe they decided they weren’t bored of him yet after all. Maybe they decided to kill him.

In.

And out.

“...Kid?”

Miguel opened his eyes to see Johnny standing over him, with his arm reached out, like he wanted to touch Miguel but was afraid he would break him. There was an emotion in the man’s eyes that Miguel knew he should’ve recognized, but he was in too much pain to try and put a name to it.

“...S-sen…sei…”

Johnny dropped to his knees next to his pupil. “Shhh, kid, don’t… Don’t say anything. Shit. Shit! ” Miguel flinched slightly. Johnny noticed, and lowered his voice significantly. “Shit, man, I’m sorry. Y… You’re gonna be okay, alright? You’re okay. Fuck.” He tried to help Miguel up, but after moving too fast, Miguel cried out in pain and dropped back to the ground.

“Shit, uh… Here… Come here…” Johnny gently looped one arm around Miguel’s waist, and used the other to hold under the kid’s knees. “Here, just… Yeah…” Slowly, but surely, he stood up. For a moment Miguel wondered how Johnny was strong enough to carry him, until he remembered that this was his sensei. Duh. “You think you can walk?” Johnny asked. Miguel nodded in response. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure whether or not he could walk. He thought (hoped) that once he was standing, he would be able to walk just fine. He didn’t want to burden Sensei anymore than he already did by losing a fight, being a pussy, and getting his ass handed to him.

Johnny slowly lowered Miguel’s feet to the ground, until the kid was standing with one arm wrapped around Johnny’s shoulders, so that the man could support his weight. It was painful for Miguel, but he wasn’t gonna tell his Sensei that. They took it one step at a time.

It wasn’t until later that night, when Miguel was trying to fall asleep, that he finally realized what that emotion in his Sensei’s eyes was.

Guilt.

And yet, despite that guilt that Miguel couldn’t make go away (no matter how hard he tried), his Sensei continued to train him. Continued to teach him. Continued to inspire him.

“If I’m extra harder on you, it’s only because you have the potential to be better than I ever was.”

Miguel caught a glimpse of Hawk and Demetri fighting side by side, together.

“I want you to know, no matter what happens…. I promise I’ll always be on your side.”

Memories of his Sensei flooded Miguel’s mind as Kyler continued to slam his fist into Miguel’s back.

“I don’t know if you can hear me kid, but I know you got it in you to pull through.”

Memories of going to see Twisted Sister live, something he wouldn’t have been able to do for a few more years (if at all) without his Sensei’s help. Of the hours they spent training just the two of them, even when they had already had practice with the rest of Cobra Kai that night. Of his Sensei giving him his gi and calling him his student for the first time.

“You just gotta keep fighting.”

Memories of celebrations, like the night Miguel had gone on his first date with Sam, and his Sensei had gotten Cobra Kai accepted back into the All Valley Tournament. Of trying to teach his Sensei how to use technology. Of going to get burgers and talking about the difficult parts of life.

“Never give up.”

Memories of times when his Sensei made decisions that didn’t seem the smartest, but made Miguel stronger in the long run. Like the pool, or the cement truck, or the fire on his foot. Of getting dating advice from his Sensei (and giving some in return). Of his Sensei teaching him how to freaking walk again, even after Miguel yelled at him in the hospital, and blamed him for everything, and told him to leave him alone.

Not once did his Sensei give up on him.

“You can do this. I know you can.”

Miguel pushed himself backwards. It caused him to take a hit to the face, but after everything else that had happened that night, it felt like nothing. Plus, more importantly, it gave him the opportunity to grab Kyler’s arm with his next attack, and pull him away, and then aim for his face. Kyler grabbed Miguel’s arm and dropped to the floor, flipping Miguel, but this time he was prepared, and landed on his feet. As he tried to pin Kyler down, Kyler kicked him in the chest, knocking him down.

Both boys picked themselves up off of the ground. “C’mon! C’mon, Rhea!” Kyler yelled. He started to run straight at Miguel. Without thinking about it, Miguel kicked.

His foot made contact, hard.

Kyler stumbled to the side, giving Miguel enough time to spin around and kick him again. The other boy managed to jump back in time this time, but Miguel wasn’t done yet. He leapt at Kyler, and twisted his body around mid-air so that he was tackling Kyler upside down, pinning him to the ground and stopping him for good (or at least for the rest of that night).

Miguel stayed there for a moment, kneeling over Kyler, trying to catch his breath.

“Thanks for the motivation.”

#Cobra Kai #Fanfic #cobra kai fanfic #cobra Kai fanfiction #miguel diaz #miguel diaz fanfiction #Johnny lawrence #Miguel and johnny #this fandom doesn’t have enough Gen fics #Specifically Miguel and Johnny fics #So i decided to write my own #this one is just a oneshot #but I’ll be posting more one shots soon

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years

Text

Sick Little Games: Eight

A/N: So. I avoided any graphic depictions of smut. There is no dubcon/noncon. But there IS manipulation and characters being and dealing with abuse. So. Proceed with caution. It is there, even if it isn’t graphic or in-depth.

A.C.

“I only have the one bed,” you tell Clint as your face heats.

The archer smiles a little and takes towels from you to go shower, “I’m not kicking a lady out of her bed,” he said, “I’ll take a blanket and the couch.”

“Clint-” you start making him turn to face you, “I’m sorry you came all the way out here.”

He gives you a crooked smile and leans on the bathroom door frame, “I’m not,” he answers. He watches as you turn and walk away. He wishes you were less vulnerable. Less sad. So he could feel right about wanting to ask you to get in the shower with him. Or wanting to tell you he doesn’t mind sharing your bed. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not to you. Not after the things he learned. He took a deep breath and sighed, feeling like an utter buffoon. He used to be good at reading people.

A trick from his Carnie days to figure out what bullshit would work best for the audience. But, as he plays the events back in his head, watching that back in his head, overlaid with what was happening, he could kick himself. For not seeing it. And then kick your ass for playing right into his hands.

But then. The team was your family. And what person expects their family to do them that dirty? Even if you’d had a family that had done it before. You just wanted so badly for someone to love you and prove that you weren’t the terrible person you thought you were. And Bucky knew it.

As Clint started the shower, he tried to calm down. He knew that if he came down angry, you’d misinterpret it and then quietly set about getting obnoxiously helpful and compliant to try and make it stop. You’d do anything he asked just to stop feeling like you were walking on eggshells... A feeling Clint knew well. And one he countered, usually, by being an obstinant asshole, stomping on the shells and the devil take the pieces. But that had ended about as well for him as it had for you. He sighed and stepped into the water, looking down at some of the scars on his body. He knew which ones were from what fight. Which ones were leftover from his parents. And he knew that whatever you’d learned to do to survive had been the only thing to do. That if you were still here, it had worked, and it wasn’t just going to go away. No matter how much he loved you.

________________________________

The Crush

Thor had had a sinking feeling in his stomach from the moment you left for the mission. He’d tried to tell Steve without telling Steve why it shouldn’t be you to go with Bucky but... How do you say to a man that his best friend. Who he trusts implicitly. Is going to hurt someone. And MAKE him listen. And what’s worse, Thor had had to watch all this from a distance. His suspicions aroused when suddenly. Publicly. Bucky was almost friendly to you instead of just occasionally civil.

So. When Steve put the two of you going undercover, Alarm bells had started ringing in his head. For a week or so, Thor had thought that Bucky had managed to choke the life out of the feelings you’d had for him. And it had been horrifying to watch him stoke them back up gently. And it only confirmed what he had thought he knew. That Bucky had known. The whole time that you harbored feelings for him, however quietly. And now he was going to play with them... Why he didn’t know. But bound as he was by the promise he had made, he couldn’t say a word. All he could do was pray to the Norns that this would end quickly.

It had taken effort to restrain a growl when Bucky had put a hand on your lower back to guide you up the steps. And more effort not to tell Bruce everything when the scientist noticed the tension in his shoulders.

_______________

“C’ mon, Doll,” Bucky said, giving you a charming little half-smile, “We’re gonna be late.”

You take a deep breath. This was terrifying for several reasons. Partly because you weren’t really a spy. But mostly because Bucky was sweet. Really nice. And you didn’t want it to stop.

“Don’t be scared,” he’d coaxed, “And remember to smile. We’re supposed to be a couple.” That’s what he’d whispered to you on the way off the plane to meet the HYDRA agents you were supposed to be convincing you were really double agents. You wanted to believe it was for the cover ID.

You wanted to. But you couldn’t.

Not when he traced idle patterns into your skin. Not when his lips found yours and cold metal fingers traced the scar on your belly. It was a daydream. He was saying things you’d spent hours imagining.

Heated skin and wet hungry kisses. The feel of him pushing between your thighs. Again. And again.

And you couldn’t tell him “no,” not when it felt that good. Not when he looked at you the way you wanted him to. Not even if you were still desperately trying to tell yourself it was just for the mission. It was beautiful. Even if the task was stressful. Even if you hated it and you hated the way the HYDRA agents pretended you didn’t exist.

Alone. With Bucky. It didn’t matter.

It wasn’t until the ride home. After three weeks. That it all went wrong. It started with, “I hope you don’t think any of that was real, Y/N.” and ended with, “I had to make them believe that you were mine. And this,” he’d said, cold metal fingers grazing your neck and the marks he’d put there, “Made it easy.”

He enjoys it. Watching your efforts to maintain. To hide the hollow feeling in your chest and nausea in your stomach. “I’d never-” you start, “I just-”

He snorted, “You’re not my type,” he said, “Are you even anyone’s type?”

Ice filled your belly and swirled through you. You felt chilled and hurt. Even if you knew it wasn’t real. You’d desperately wanted it to be. You’d wanted to believe the illusion. Because it felt so fucking good. Just to be loved. And you don’t know what to do. You feel raw. Exposed. But you mostly feel stupid.

And so. You stay quiet. There’s nothing to say. It’s already happened. It’s done. And had been done for weeks. Now all there was, was the grim reality that something you had wanted to have with someone who loved you was gone, and you couldn’t get that moment back.

You can’t face Thor, knowing that it’ll take him less than a second to understand what happened. To understand how fucking stupid you’d been. And you don’t think you can take it. Either way. Not derision or comfort. You’re not sure what you’d get, but you really can’t process either one. And you can’t tell Natasha. Not even when she raises an eyebrow at the marks on your throat. Silently telling you, she wants details later. You can’t take any of it.

It hurts. It all hurts. And all you want to do is cry.

____________

“Y/N?” Thor asked quietly, careful not to wake Bruce when he heard your soft knock on the door.

You look like you haven’t slept. Like you might be sick. And Thor’s heart breaks for you. He’d known from the second you dragged yourself to the debriefing on the mission. And gods if he hadn’t been furious. He’d not been able to speak to you, you’d been too careful to stay away. But that didn’t mean he didn’t try.

“I- I- I,” you start crying before you can get it out, and he pulls you out of the hall and into their room, hugging you tight.

“I know,” he said softly, “Shhh, sweetheart. We’re here. Whatever you need, okay?”

“I don’t know,” you sputter, accepting tissues Bruce is proffering.

Bruce had no idea what was going on. All he knew is that you weren’t okay. And hadn’t been for a while. So when Thor pulled you into their room to talk in private, he didn’t need to ask questions.

“Barnes is the father, isn’t he?” Thor asks softly, needing confirmation from you.

You nod, swallowing hard and cover your face with your hands. Bruce makes a soft sound of understanding and glances at Thor before going to make you something to drink.

For a few minutes, Thor keeps you against his side and just lets you cuddle close. Until you sit up to take the mug, Bruce is holding and wrap your trembling hands around it. “Don’t make decisions in crisis mode,” Bruce said gently, sitting on your other side. “People are stupid when they panic,” he continues, “You have time to think. So take it. Okay?”

Thor catches Bruce’s eye and smiles his thanks. Grateful that Bruce is half awake and thinking clearly. Thor had been about to start pressing on you, anxious to fix it. But as some of the tension left your shoulders and you relaxed into the warmth, and the blanket Thor had wrapped around you, he understood that that would be a bad idea. They don’t ask you questions. They don’t press. They just let you be, staying close and giving you warmth to snuggle into and drinks and snacks. Until you could sleep. However, fitfully, snuggled up with them on the sofa.

When you sit up, groggy, and Wrung out, Bruce kisses your head, “You okay?” he asked gently.

“I’m sorry I crashed so long,” you say, trying to deflect the question.

“That’s no an answer,” Thor scolded.

“I feel like someone hollowed out my head,” you answer after a long moment.

Bruce winced, “That’s never a good feeling,” he murmured, rubbing your neck gently.

You take a deep breath, “I should go,” you tell them.

“You don’t have to,” Bruce said, looking at Thor for help. He genuinely doesn’t think you need to be alone right now.

“I took up enough of your day,” you murmur.

Thor kisses your head, “Witchling,” he scolds gently.

“No,” you tell them, shaking your head, “I’ll be okay... I just. I need to move. I need to be doing something.”

“Be nice to yourself,” Bruce cautioned, watching you get to your feet. “And come find someone if you need them,” Thor said, “Whatever you need.”

You nod, “Thank you.” Your voice is quiet. Very quiet. But you seem better. At least. A little better. And as they watch you walk away, neither of them are sure what to do now. All they are sure of is that Bucky deserves to be punched in the face. And For once, Thor finds himself having to stop Bruce from doing the punching.

“I’m gonna tear him apart,” Bruce growls, turning a little green around the irises.

“Bruce,” Thor says quietly, “Don’t. Don’t draw attention to it. If you charge down there and cave-in that blackguard’s face, everyone is going to want to know why.”

“So,” he growled, starting to pant.

“And the witchling will have to tell them. Everyone. And instead of looking after herself, she’s going to start trying to placate all of us.”

It takes a minute. A long minute. And Thor wrapping him in a bear hug, but the words penetrate. “Is that why you haven’t done anything?”

“I made a promise,” he said, practically spitting the words out. “I found her crying when I went to ask her to read some cards for me... She wouldn’t tell me who she was in love with but... It did not take me long to find out.”

Bruce sighed, “I just... it’s so fucking gross. I don’t understand how he could do that.”

“I know,” Thor rumbled, kissing him gently, “But we’ll protect her. At least until she can do it herself.

____________

Clint leans on the door of your office, panting, “There you are!” he says, pointing an accusing finger at his dog. “Asshole’s had me chasing him all over the compound for a bath.”

“Hims not an asshole,” you say, stroking his ears fondly when he rested his head on your lap. “He’s been keeping me company.”

Clint mock grumbles and sits on the edge of your desk, making himself at home, “I should have checked here first... Lucky likes you more than me.”

“I just don’t give him baths,” you say, smiling a little.

“That and you’re nicer to look at,” he teases, anxious to get you to laugh. It was only partly true that he’d not known where to find Lucky. He’d woken up to find his dog gone, and when he’d gone to find you, figuring Lucky had wanted breakfast and had gone to get you for eggs and a bite of banana, he couldn’t find you either. But he had seen Thor. And Thor had told him carefully that you’d been feeling unwell so he’d walked you to medical from the training room.

It had taken Clint roughly 30 seconds to find Lucky waiting outside medical for you looking worried. “Good boy,” he said softly, “Look after our girl, huh?” Lucky whined, and Clint smiled a little, “No, I don’t know what’s wrong. But they’ll fix her up. You just keep her company... and you can have a stay of execution for a couple days.” The dog woofed softly. “No, not literally. But no bath. At least not this week,” Clint answered.

And he’d known after that EXACTLY where Lucky would be.

But you don’t laugh, you just look away.

“Are you okay?” Clint asked softly.

“Fine,” you tell him, feigning brightness. A tone of voice that makes Lucky press closer.

“Are you sure? I- Thor said you’d not felt well.” he pressed gently.

You tell him you're fine, but he doesn’t miss the crack in your voice and a sudden overbright look in your eyes before you look away again. When Clint left, feeling wrong-footed. Like he’d just stumbled into something incredibly painful, Lucky followed. And for a long moment, you sat at your desk and tried to work. You tried to focus. But you felt... you felt like you couldn’t breathe. And it was time to go.

_________

“Y/N?” Tony said, frowning, “Is everything okay?”

“I just... I have some things I need to do,” you say. You’re lying. Lying through your teeth, but you don’t want to answer questions.

“Anything we can help with?” Steve asks, folding his arms.

“No,” you blurt out, too fast.

“Your last mission-” Tony started.

“Was fine,” you tell them, “It all happened like we said in the debrief.” That’s the lie that makes Steve raise an eyebrow. He hadn’t missed the marks on your neck. Or how withdrawn you’d been.

Bucky had been similarly tight-lipped. Another disjointed piece.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Steve asked.

“Vaguely,” you answer. And that was true. That was the only thing you were capable of thinking. Because the only place you knew you were going was... just. Away.

Tags: @lancsnerd, @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway @etherealwaifgoddess, @stevieang, @beautybyfire, @sunmoonandbucky @mrsfox79, @bbmommy0902, @mendes-fan, @iheartsebastianstan, @wtfcas @pinknerdpanda, @process-pending, @ladifreakingda, @leasly, @coldbookworm, @hv-chw3, @past-perfect-future-tense, @starkrobb @beardburnsupersoldiers, @petlaufeyson, @queenoftheunderdark, @potatoheadthewise, @thehyperactiveteen, @thefridgeismybestie, @boyett514, @an-awkward-human-1, @sunshine-and-riverwater

#bucky x reader #clint barton #Bucky Barnes #clint barton x reader #Lucky #Thor x Bruce #Steve Rogers #Tony Stark #asshole!Bucky

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years

Text

Devil’s Backbone - Chapter 22

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x S.H.I.E.L.D. agent!Reader

Summary: With your team dead and your mission failed, you’ve been taken by the assassin to an unknown location and are at the mercy of your cruel tormentors. (This fic is explicit, 18+ only, dubcon in earlier chapters)

Chapter Warnings: Violence, blood, references to past sexual abuse, general Hydra creepiness

Word Count: 2.7k

AO3

(gif by @dailymarvel)

Step three: Once the highest threat is identified, eliminate it.

You rounded the corner and pulled the trigger over and over, giving Rumlow zero opportunity to return fire. You charged forward and quickly took cover behind a desk to your right; wood and glass dividers shattered above your head from bullet impacts.

On your knees, you shot around the corner of the desk in his direction, pulling back when you saw movement from his side. Even with the fresh pistol, you soon ran out of ammunition, but so did he. Once silence filled the room, Rumlow shouted.

“You’re out!”

“So are you!” you yelled back.

He chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

You saw red. The hurt, the betrayal, all of it flowed into your spine, and all you could imagine was Rumlow’s body at your feet.

“No! You don’t get to say that! You betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D.!”

“We are S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he responded in an amused tone.

“Then you betrayed our team! You betrayed me.”

Your voice shook from the force of your anger, and that was fine. What you hated was how easily the hurt bled into your words. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deep his betrayal had wounded you. Because it hurt fucking bad.

“This isn’t what I wanted.” There was a pause in which you thought you heard Rumlow sigh. “You were supposed to be with us by now.”

Your vision blurred and you blinked away the tears, refusing to shed them on his account.

“Did you do it?” You wanted him to say no, even now. “Did you order the hit on the convoy?”

His voice drifted over to you from across the room, and for a moment, he was your commander again. You could almost see him in your mind’s eye, pacing in front of the team with his hands clasped behind his back as he gave a mission briefing.

“Kartal was working for us. Or he was, until he got cold feet, or a conscience, or whatever the fuck. Pierce couldn’t have him going to the feds, though, could he? And I needed to weed out the weaker members of the team who I knew wouldn’t make the cut. More importantly, I made sure you were kept alive. I had you spared, Williams, because I knew you’d come around. With some persuasion.”

Your stomach roiled and your throat burned.

“I will never be a part of HYDRA,” you spit out.

“Kid,” he laughed, “haven’t you been paying attention? You’ve been HYDRA all along. You just didn’t know it.”

You couldn’t listen to one more word or you would scream. You pushed off from the desk you had been sitting against and stepped out into full view.

Maybe he heard you, or maybe he just knew you that well, because Rumlow did the same. He pulled the combat knife from his belt, twirling it between his fingers, his voice almost sympathetic. “It’s not too late, you know. Pierce wasn’t lying when he said he was impressed.”

Another twirl of his fingers, his smile just as razor sharp.

“Of course, he doesn’t know how sentimental you get. You’re a scrappy little shit, like a mongrel that just won’t die no matter how often it’s kicked and starved. First I thought it was really fuckin’ sad, but then I saw the one thing no one else did. Your potential.”

You tried not to react—failed—and your frown turned into a grimace. Rumlow’s smile widened to a grin.

“But in order to get there, you had to have the softness beaten outta ya. So I toughened you up, cut off all the baby fat. You gonna resent me for that, kid? After all I’ve done for you, you’re gonna turn this around and pretend I didn’t make you the best damn agent since Romanoff?”

His grin faded and dark clouds gathered over his eyes.

“You fuckin’ owe me everything, girl.”

Something within you broke, and you launched yourself at him before you could rethink your strategy. Your ferocity caught him by surprise; he nearly dropped the knife when you kicked at his arm. Rumlow held tight to his weapon and moved backwards, dodging out of range of your attacks.

You knew what he was doing, drawing you out and trying to exhaust you. The only way to counteract that was to close the distance, but then there was the knife to consider.

You picked up a filled three-inch binder from a desk, charged at him, and used the book to shield and deflect the slash of his knife.

It was no vibranium shield, but it worked; you got close enough to kick him hard in the gut. Rumlow rolled backward and stopped at a crouch, slowly standing up as he wiped the blood from his torn lip. His expression wasn’t so controlled now—there was real anger there.

“Pierce had such high hopes for you. You were gonna be our golden goose. HYDRA’s greatest project in history, until the asset went fucking nuclear and killed everyone on the goddamn medical team.”

The asset. The phrase stuck in your throat, tarry and sick and foul.

“What did you do to him?” you asked hoarsely.

Rumlow raised his knife again, readying himself for another round. You didn’t think he was going to answer, until he did.

“Same thing we were gonna do to you,” he said with a smirk. “Pump you full of super soldier serum—a special Soviet blend—and break your mind into itty-bitty pieces.” His smirk faded into a frown. “But then he fucked it all to hell, and we still don’t know why.”

He lunged.

You had been so shocked by his words you didn’t react in time. You managed to deflect his knife once before he slung his arm around your neck and pivoted you around, slamming you against his chest.

You wheezed, barely able to breathe as he held the knife in front of your face.

“How’d you do it, huh? How’d you get inside his head?” His warm breath hit your ear and you tried to twist away, but he held you in an unbreakable vice. “The asset was compliant one day, batshit crazy the next. Pierce was gonna wipe him that night, you know. Said you were a goddamn nuisance, a distraction. Some fuckin’ bullshit that was, weapons don’t get distracted. They have a purpose. They get used. And boy, did we use that fucker until he couldn’t be used anymore.”

Icicles trickled down your spine. Your mind couldn’t grasp the meaning of his words, wouldn’t grasp it.

“He killed the doctors, the technicians, almost everyone in the prison. I expected they’d find your body in a ditch somewhere, battered and broken, but there you were at the safe house, alive and whole. So, how’d you do it? How’d you take control?”

Rumlow’s warm breath hit the side of your face and you turned away, wincing. You struggled again but he had you trapped, helpless to do anything but listen to the horrible things he was saying.

“The guys on duty did say he visited your cell a few times. Is that why he’s outside right now, tryin’ to help Cap? You femme fatale’d him into obedience?”

You said nothing, baring your teeth and trying to pull his arm off your neck. It was pointless, given that the limb was almost pure, corded muscle.

Rumlow gave a bark of sharp laughter so sudden it startled you.

“Or… no. No, you didn’t do anything to him at all. It’s what he did to you.” Another laugh, delighted in a way that made your stomach twist. You said nothing, more focused on clawing at his arm then entertaining his nasty accusations. He ignored your struggles, you wondered if he could even feel the bite of your blunted nails.

“Shit, I didn’t know he had it in him,” he continued on, grating. “Christ. If you had any idea what Pierce had in store for you two, you’d realize how fuckin’ ironic that is. He got his dick wet and they didn’t even have to order him to do it. I mean… shit. That’s all sorts of perverted—“

You slammed your elbow back into his ribs and felt a satisfying crack. He howled in pain but somehow still held on as he stumbled backward, his grip even tighter now around your neck.

You wanted to cover your ears or scream or do something. Anything to make him stop.

And still he kept fucking talking.

“Yeah, got under your skin, didn’t I?” he growled through his staggered, labored breaths. “Not that it matters. The asset ain’t gonna remember you once we get our hands on him again. I can’t tell you how many times his brain has been scrambled. It’s a goddamn miracle he’s not a drooling vegetable at this point.”

You would have screamed at him if you had the air for it, but Rumlow had shifted his grip and the edges of your vision were starting to recede. The world was going quiet, distant… but not enough for you to miss the sensation of Rumlow gently stroking your hair.

“You don’t gotta worry about that, kid. I won’t let any of ‘em touch you,” he murmured into your ear. “When you belong to HYDRA, I’ll take good care of you.”

He fisted your hair tight enough to make the burns on your scalp light up with electric pain. You gasped as he slightly shook his fist, tears blurring your vision.

“And then,” he murmured, low and sinuous in your ear, “you’ll finally learn some fuckin’ gratitude.”

The thing that took hold of your body wasn’t you. It couldn’t be, because no single person could contain that much hatred.

You grabbed his wrist and jabbed it downward. The knife sliced through your side and cut straight through your jacket and down into Rumlow’s thigh.

Rumlow’s earlier scream was tame compared to the wild noise he made now, and he released you on reflex. He also made the mistake of letting go of the knife, and you yanked it free of his leg and whirled around, slashing at his shoulder. He stumbled backwards, red flowing over his corded muscles and smooth skin like a river through a dune sea.

You coughed and gasped for breath. Your face felt like a mask, unfamiliar and tight, and you couldn’t imagine what was across its surface.

He grinned at you, a red-tinged smile from his busted lip.

You could do it, right now. End it. He was off-balance, wounded, and no matter how disciplined he was the pain would slow him down.

Adjusting the knife if your grip, stalked forward, chest heaving as your muscles bunched for the attack—

A shadow blotted out the sunlight cast through the windows. It was moving fast, alarmingly so, and you skidded to a stop when you saw what it was.

A Helicarrier hurtling out of the sky at a steep angle, directly toward you.

Without a second look at Rumlow, you dropped the knife, spun and stumbled on the smooth tiled floor, and bolted. You didn’t turn to see if he had spotted the impeding airship.

You stabbed a finger into your ear comm and shouted, “Wilson! Please tell me you’re nearby!”

“Where the hell have you been?!” he shouted back, sounding very put-out. “We’ve been looking all over for you! Tell me where—“

The impact of the Helicarrier slamming into the Triskelion was enough to make you stumble and skid across the tilting floor, and it was more than enough to give Wilson his answer.

“Shit! You still there, Agent?”

“Not for long!” you yelled as you somehow managed to avoid a collapsing pile of building falling from the ceiling. “Forty-first floor! Northwest corner!”

There was no time to wait for confirmation. You hurled yourself at the window and curled into a ball just before impact. The glass shattered around you, the sound drowned out by the massive airship cleaving into the side of the building.

Your stomach twisted as you free-fell through the air, the ground rushing up at an alarming rate—

Wilson appeared just below you, rolling onto his back and grabbing you as you slammed into his chest. He managed to wrap his arms around you as he flew out from under the shower of collapsing tile and glass.

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled over the comm despite the fact he was also right in your ear. “Are all your S.H.I.E.L.D. agents this crazy?!”

“What happened to the Helicarriers?” you shouted, ignoring his first statement. You tried to twist your head around to look, but you couldn’t see anything but the river below. Panic rose in your throat. “Where’s Bucky?!”

Wilson banked and you gripped him tighter, feeling like a small lizard clinging to a very large bird. From your new vantage point, you saw there was only one Helicarrier still airborne, and it had been the one that had just sliced through a portion of the Triskelion and was now heading directly over the Potomac River.

“We’re still onboard,” Rogers answered, sounding out of breath.

“What? Why!” you cried out. “You’re heading for the river!”

“There was… falling debris,” he said, voice strained. “Bucky’s trapped. I’m digging him out.”

“Why are you doing this!” Bucky yelled over the comm. “Leave, Rogers!”

“Not gonna happen, Buck,” Rogers responded, his voice oddly soft. “Not without you.”

“We have to get to them!” you shouted to Wilson.

He must have agreed because he yelled, “Hold on, man!” He held onto you tight as he tilted through the air, the wind hitting your face and making your eyes water as he picked up speed. “We’re coming!”

“No, Sam, you gotta stay back. It’s too dangerous. This thing is falling apart around us.” The same resignation that had been in Bucky’s voice earlier was now in Roger’s.

“Don’t ask me to do that,” Wilson responded quickly. He sounded as anxious as you felt. He was approaching at a parallel angle to avoid the smoke and falling debris, and you could see the underside glass dome of the bridge and the damage inside.

“Move closer!” you yelled.

“I can’t!” he yelled back. “Too much shit in the air!”

“I don’t care!” You shouted hard enough to crack your voice, struggling in his arms now, trying to twist around so you could see the carrier better. “Move us in!”

“Woman! Knock it off or you’re gonna get us both killed!”

Despite his protests he angled his wings and banked toward the drifting carrier.

“Rogers!” you yelled into your earpiece. “We’re almost there!”

You were fifty feet away, close enough to see details inside the dome. It was a warzone, strewn with heavy crossbeams and collapsed walkways as the air filled with smoke and tongues of flame.

“There’s no time!” Rogers yelled, suddenly urgent. “You have to—“

An explosion ripped through the back of the ship. It was so hot and expansive that the shockwave hit you and Wilson like a solid object, causing him to tumble back through the air. He gripped you tightly around the waist and all you could do was hold onto his arms as the world spun sickeningly around you.

By the time he was steady again, the Helicarrier had split in two.

All the air left your lungs. The horrific sight above you blotted out the sky with fire and falling debris.

Wilson descended and landed on the riverbank nearby. You wanted to scream at him to take you back up, that it wasn’t too late. Instead, you watched the Helicarrier fall in broken pieces into the river. Your legs gave out and you collapsed onto your knees.

“Steve?”

Wilson’s voice was shaking. Desperate and pleading.

“Steve… are you there? Come on, man… Answer me.”

You touched a trembling finger to your comm to make sure it was on.

“Bucky?” Your voice was even more broken than Wilson’s. “Bucky, say something. Please? Bucky?”

You were both met with the finality of silence. The only sound that floated to you on the wind was the quiet rumble of the remnants of the Helicarrier falling into the Potomac.

Next Chapter

#devil's backbone #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes #brock rumlow #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fanfiction #reader fanfiction #the winter soldier fanfiction #hydra trash party #htp #sam wilson #steve rogers #captain america the winter soldier #shield #hydra #my writing #my fanfiction

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