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ofbeastsandwizards · 2 years

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THIS IS MY MESS [prt one] - avengers x reader

next chapter ->

a/n: here it is! the moment you’ve all been waiting for!! the first chapter of my timm rewrite!! I made sure to tag everyone I could find who asked to be tagged!! im so excited to finally re-release this jsjsjsjd anyways i didnt proof read this so ignore any mistakes.

pairing: avengers x teen! reader platonic

word count: 2550

warnings: use of ‘she/her’ pronouns on reader, a few curse words here and there, mention of parent death, near-death experience, heights

series summary: A 16 year old from Harlem finds herself ensnared in a tangle of problems when she literally falls into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the object of her absolute affection.

chapter summary: [Y/n] [L/n] usually likes to mind her own business. Especially after retrieving her favorite movies. But today, she took a different path, that may have changed her entire universe.

———

OUR UNIVERSE - PRESENT DAY NYC

[Y/n] [L/n] was a frequent visitor of Mel’s Comics, a ragtag little comic book shop in the heart of Harlem, New York.

Just a skip and a hop from her Grandmother’s apartment, it was one of the only places [Y/n] felt at home, it was a place she could feel herself, a place where expectation melted away like ice cream on warm summer’s day. It was her sanctuary.

And so, it was no surprise that Mel’s was also her supplier of all her Marvel needs. They kept their racks fully stocked, and it was the only comic book store she could find that housed the full collection of rentable Marvel Cinematic Universe content.

Of course, the MCU movies rarely lined the shelves with how often [Y/n] made it her mission to rent them to the very last second. Today was no different.

A mish-mash of movie phases were squished in her arms as she approached the checkout counter. The man running the counter, Jeremy, a lanky man in his thirties, with bleach-blonde hair and wire-rimmed spectacles, was a close friend of the young teenager.

Although they often only talked when [Y/n] spent her time occupying the peeling walls of Mel’s Comics, they got along splendidly.

Jeremy tilted his glasses away from his nose, and offered the young girl a kind smile. “Got another haul today, [N/n]?”

[Y/n] gave him a wide grin, nodding her head as she lugged the DVD’s onto the countertop.

Jeremy let out a dry laugh. “Geez, [Y/n], how many times are you going to watch these things? You know you can buy them, right?”

[Y/n] waved her hand dismissively. “Psh. Why take away the magic of coming here to rent them every week?”

Jeremy hummed, and continued to ring up the movies, and tapped away at his computer. [Y/n]’s name was always the first to pull up in the rental system, as she was oftentimes the only one to consistently rent the movies.

“Alrighty. With the family and friends discount, that’ll be-“

“Ten fifty.” [Y/n] finished, pulling out a wad of cash from her front jean pocket. Jeremy pulled the green paper out of her hands and counted it out, removing a few dollars from the cash register and handing it to [Y/n].

“I got my backpack today, so I think I can pass on the bag.” [Y/n] informed, and Jeremy nodded, pushing the stack of movies towards her. She pulled the backpack off her back, and shuffled the plastic containers into the large pocket of her bag, and zipped it closed. “Thanks, Jer!”

“Sure thing. And be careful out there, kid. It’s a bit icy today.”

[Y/n] laughed. “When am I not careful?” She pushed open the glass door, a small bell chiming as she exited the tiny shop. She stood outside for a moment, sucking in a deep breath of autumn air.

Ah, that fresh, tangy, New York air.

[Y/n]’s marvel obsession stretched far beyond her frequent stops at Mel’s, or reading the latest comic addition. Her obsession fueled her entire childhood, and the characters of the marvel universe acted as compensation for the many struggles she had met early on in life.

At only age 10, her father passed away from a severe case of pneumonia. He was a talented criminal investigator, who caught the sickness unexpectedly.

When [Y/n] was very little, she wanted to follow in her fathers footsteps, and had little interest in make-believe heroes. Why would she? Her father was already a real life hero in her eyes.

But life often has other plans. When her father died, her hope of real life heroes died with him. She began to doubt the goodness of the world, and she had nobody to run to.

With her mother out of the picture, all she had left was her grandmother, who was as feisty as they came. She could take care of herself, so she had no problem declaring guardianship over young [Y/n].

When she finally began to piece her life back together, she became fixated on the marvel universe. It offered an escape, a new outlook. A world where heroes really did exist. A world, where [Y/n] could finally see good again.

Clearing her head, she began to make her trek back home. Jeremy was right, the ground had a thin layer of cracked ice all over it, coating the side-walk in a death-trap of colder months.

Taking extra caution to avoid these icy patches, she slowed to a crawl, weaving her way around tourists, and everyday commuters.

She pulled her phone out from her pocket, earbuds already connected by the plug, and unlocked it. She scrolled through her music, careful not to become too absorbed in the screen of her phone.

Then, like a bolt of lightning shooting down the sidewalk, [Y/n] felt herself being shoved to the side by a shadowy figure. Her phone went flying to the ground, and she hit the brick wall of one the storefronts beside her.

Annoyance bubbling inside her, she quickly regained her composure. “Hey! Watch it!” She barked, but the figure was already booking it down the sidewalk. Her nose crinkled, and she bent down to retrieve her cracked phone.

Great.

When she stood back up, she noticed the figure disappearing into an alleyway, and she could feel curiosity begin to grow inside her.

Before she could stop herself, her feet began to carry her in their wake, and she slipped into the same alley. Finding it empty, save for a trash bin and a few empty beer cans, she became determined to locate the mysterious stranger.

Her eyes traced the walls of the alleyway, before landing on a ladder, connected to the fire-escape of the building to her right. It lead right up to the roof, and as she tilted her head upwards, she could see the figure slink out of view above her.

With a quick once over of her surroundings, she followed suit, cold hands gripping the rusted metal bars of the ladder, and she hoisted herself up, quickly ascending the tall height of the building.

With a quick glance down, which frightened her beyond what she could ever imagine, she continued her way up, slightly out of breath once she reached the top.

There was nothing but silence at the top of the building, besides the quiet whirring of the air conditioning units that supplied cool air to the apartments below.

Ahead of her, the figure, dawning all black clothing with a saggy hood pulled over their head, climbed the scaffolding-like ladder of a crane position just a few meters from the other side of the building.

“What the hell are they doing?” [Y/n] muttered under her breath, already making her way towards the crane. Some part of her brain was screaming “Stop!” At the top of it’s lungs, only the worst possibilities of what this person could possibly do at the top of a crane, 7 stories up, came to [Y/n]’s mind.

And so, reluctantly, her brain allowed her to give chase. She neared the crane, which she would have to make a bit of a jump for, and she could feel her heart beating out of her chest.

Inside her head, a war broke out.

I’m going to die. What am I doing? I need to go back.

But what if they’re going to jump? What if they’re going to sabotage the crane? What if somebody gets hurt, and you could have prevented it?

What if I get hurt?

What if you do, but you save a life?

The ever persistent vigilante inside her won the battle. She wrapped her fingers around the bars, leaning over the edge of the building, and pulling herself over with a heave and a sharp beat of her heart. She could swear she was falling to her death, when she realized she had made it safely onto the oddly designed ladder to the top.

She picked up her pace, clawing her way up the yellow colored crane, just a few paces behind the mysterious person.

Wanting to stop them before they hurt themself, or caused any damage, she decided to call out for them.

“Hey! Wait!”

They turned only for a moment at her words, but their face was hidden beneath a mask pulled up over their nose, but their eyes bore a striking resemblance to [Y/n]’s. They hesitated for only a second, before speeding towards the top, and disappearing over the edge.

Shit!

Biting down on her lower lip in frustration, she began to climb her way further up the crane, until her shivering body clawed itself onto the flattened area above. The figure was walking precariously down the narrow bridge of the crane, and [Y/n] clung to the bars of the bridge.

“Hey! What are you doing?” She called, voice quaking.

The figure did not turn this time, and only looked down at their wrist, as if checking the time.

“Oh God.” She whispered. She sucked in a breath, and pushed herself away from the only thing holding her high above the ground. She stood up. “Please, get down from here, you’re gonna get hurt.”

They turned around at this, and their eyes widened at [Y/n]. She was shaking like a leaf. Legs splayed out, trying to maximize the amount of balance she had. Her arms reached out to her sides to steady her. The person eyed her, and they seemed to want to pull forward and comfort the young girl, but instead, they squeezed their eyes shut.

The bars creaked under [Y/n]’s weight, and she could feel herself growing more and more light-headed.

“No. No, you need to get down. Please. It’s dangerous.” Their voice was low, but rang with power.

“Come on, please. You could fall.”

They held a hand out, as if trying to stop [Y/n] from talking. “Kid, you don’t know what you’re doing. You need to turn around, and get back down to safety.”

[Y/n] shook her head. “Not without you.”

“Kid, you’re just going to get yourself hurt.”

“Oh.” [Y/n] held back a sour chuckle. “That’s rich, considering you’re the one who came up here in the first place.”

They stood there for a moment, before checking their wrist again. [Y/n] noticed the clean, square surface attached to their wrist, and noted it was probably some sort of smart watch.

“I don’t have much time.” Their eyes didn’t leave the watch. A loud crack made their eyes snap upwards, paired with the startled scream leaving [Y/n]’s mouth.

The crane’s bars that were propping her up gave out, and now, clinging desperately to the rusted metal, she was hanging there, only a slip away from death.

For a moment, time stopped for the black-clad stranger. They watched as [Y/n] eyes shut in terror, and whimpers of fear escaped her lips. They felt themself being tugged towards her, wanting desperately to save them. But the clock was ticking.

They let out a struggled breath, and balanced their weight on the bars, shuffling back to where [Y/n] clung for dear life. They bent down to her level and their voice softened.

“Hey. Hey, open your eyes, okay? Take a deep breath for me.” [Y/n]’s body was quivering, but she complied, cracking open her eyes and letting the light flood in.

They tilted their head. “Look at me, okay?”

[Y/n] did as told, but still, fear, and confusion flooded her brain. Reaching a hand up to their face, they removed their mask, pulling it down under their chin.

What [Y/n] saw might have killed her right then and there, if it weren’t for the adrenaline already coursing through her veins.

It was her. Her face, on the stranger’s. Yes, older, and more sodden, but it was hers. A scar ran deeply over the corner of her lip, and bags clung to her eyes, but [Y/n] would know herself. And this was her.

Eyes wide, [Y/n]’s mind struggled desperately to wrap itself around this. Somebody who looked like her? Doppelgänger? Coincidence?

No. [Y/n] knew that there was no such thing as coincidence. Not like this, anyway.

Her identical, as [Y/n] mentally decided upon calling her, furrowed her brows in concern and placed her gloves hands over [Y/n]’s.

[Y/n]’s lips parted. “Who are you?” She managed.

“You shouldn’t have followed me. You let curiosity get the best of you.” She looked away. “I know how that is.”

[Y/n] shook her head. “I’m scared.”

“I’m running out of time, okay? You need to take my hand.”

“I can’t- I can’t.”

[Y/n] watched as her eyes narrowed. “I am on a mission, okay? A mission I cannot miss. I have ten seconds to get you down, and if you don’t take my hand, I’m going to leave you here.”

This frightened [Y/n] more, and the sound of snapping metal filled her ears. She could feel all her emotions building like a waterfall inside her, and tears began to sprout in her eyes. Her doppelgänger backed away after a few seconds.

With a tight-lipped frown, she said, “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

[Y/n]’s eyes opened, and she watched as she went back to her perch at the edge of the crane. Fear began to fill [Y/n]’s core, and she let out any sound that came to her.

[Y/n]’s screams filled her identical’s ears, and she tried her best to block it out. The seconds ticked away, before she tore her gaze off her stopwatch as her alarm sounded. Sparks filled the air below, turning everything a vibrant green color. They zapped and cracked like electricity, before they snapped apart to reveal a glowing portal, hovering above the ground, just below where [Y/n]’s identical stood.

It was dark on the other side, the sound of pattering rain present, mixed in with the unstable sound of crackling. She looked over her shoulder at [Y/n] who pleaded for mercy. Her right hand gave way as the bar snapped. Piercing screams filled the air and she began crying out for help.

[Y/n]’s identical was not as callous as she presented herself to be. She was not emotionless, as many of her colleagues in her world saw her as. She had a heart. She could feel pain, just as anyone could.

And the screams that her younger double was making broke her to the bone. She could stand it no longer, and with a harsh breath inward, and a curse under her breath, she lifted her hands, her power flowing through her finger tips.

She latched onto the portal through her energy, and she threw it towards [Y/n], whose grip was weakening, and she hastily positioned it beneath her flailing body.

With one last, “Fuck my life,” the powerful [Y/n] counterpart sealed the deal, as [Y/n] lost her hold and fell backwards, directly into the portal.

She watched as it sealed behind her, her alarm ringing from her watch

Damn. Working with the multiverse is hard.

———

tags:

@amillionworlds @ewitsceleste @ximaginx @purplekitten30 @inhumanwithpowers @lazyloversblog @xcharlottemikaelsonx @tired-butterfly @xoxmariaxox @mysticalcollectionheartme @xreaderandshits @lizlil @kai-writes-fan-fiction @bxby-riah

i apologize to those who no-longer wish to be on the tag list. pls message me if you don’t want to be included anymore :)

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anne-i-write · 3 years

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moriarty the patriot headcannons pt. 1

| requested by anon: Can you write about all male characters in moriarty has a same look of their children and hpw many children they want? |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader; sebastian x reader; fred x reader

word count: 2397

pt. 2: 221b boys

a/n: I DONT KNOW WHY I DIDNT WRITE THIS EARLIER IM SO SORRY THIS REQUEST HAS LITERALLY BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS

william: 487 words

with his whole plan to clean the world of the filthy nobles, william never really stopped to think about having children

well, until he met you

you both were in town one day and he saw you fondly watching a child speak with her mother

“i think two children would be nice”

“i didn’t even ask”

“i know, but the look you gave that mother was telling enough”

n e ways he is a simp and he did eventually give you what you wanted

fast forward a few years, you have two children: a boy and a girl

and they look exactly like their father

like,, it lowkey pains you how much they physically take after their father

you wanted to be like “oh they have your personality, but they look just like me!”

granted, your son took after you in an emotional sense but your daughter was a daddy’s girl through and through

like she looks like him, she acts like him, speaks like him, she even EATS like him

ok but the men w your children

fred is a freaking sweetheart ok

like he’ll watch over the kids when no one has the time and they love him too so they’ll help out in the garden which you are SO thankful for

tbh they only like uncle albert bc he brings them lil trinkets from when he gets back from london LMAO

louis doesn’t show it, but he absolutely adores your children and makes extra snacks for them at tea time

you caught onto this at one point bc for some REASON your kids would not stop bouncing off of the walls before bed and they told you uncle louis gave them chocolate

and sebastian loves messing w your kids bc,,, sebastian

but he accidentally made your son cry ONCE and he was at the mercy of every adult in the moriarty estate including the boy’s younger sister

needless to say, he watched his actions and words around your children after that

now, william

i’m just gonna say this straight out: most of the men never really thought about having kids (save john and albert)

but when you finally had kids, william had a different outlook on life

like fr,, this man works overtime now trying to get rid of the filth that is called nobles

he doesn’t want his kids to be raised in a world where just because you have more money than another means you get to look down on them

you still instill in them those good morals ofc

he also tries to be very present in their lives since he and his brother were raised as orphans

when he was younger, he didn’t mind it all much

but now that he had this small family and a brighter future, he did everything in his power to make sure they’re happy and grow up in a cleaner and kinder world

louis: 320 words

it took you a week to get him to at LEAST humor you

“if you could, how many kids do you want?”

“none”

like, this guy is so dedicated to his brother and his cause it is a WONDER you somehow wormed your way into his heart

but you did and honestly, the brothers are actually very happy that you’re with them

william especially

louis rarely emotes but when you came into their lives, you got louis pissed at one point and everyone was like,,,, wtf?? he has emotions???

anyways, his answer is one kid LMAO

and when you get that one kid, he looks just like louis

yall already KNOW that he’s ready to die for that child as soon as louis holds him in his arms

the only kid sebastian wouldnt even try to mess with

he can deal with william’s albert’s or fred’s kids but louis lowkey intimidates him so he’s as nice as he can be

that being said, louis teaches his kid how to properly handle stuff around the house

you want to cry bc ur son is just so??? the little kid just loves helping out no matter how small the task and he’s just so cute it hurts

even sebastian’s kinda like,, “aight he’s the only kid i will tolerate”

louis grew up with only his brothers so he also wants to give his son a shot at a normal family

is actually aware at how he thinks he’s indispensable for william’s cause and he doesn’t want his son to end up like him

he also teaches his son some badass fighting moves

oh and louis smiles a lot more too

cried bc his son saw the scar he got on his cheek, rubbed some dirt on his lil face and said “i have daddy’s cool scar now”

all in all his son is the best thing to happen to all of you

albert: 505 words

same as louis in the fact that it takes him a week to answer

“you know you haven’t even answered my question”

“i’m sorry, what did you say?”

“how many kids do you want?”

genuinely takes time to ponder that question

he hadn’t thought of that since his family adopted william and louis

but with you?

“i think two darling girls who take after their mother is enough for me”

pls he’d be so sweet 🥺🥺🥺

you two end up having a girl and a boy, who look just like their father

and tbh, you’re not even mad

you love them so much so when albert comes back north, the three of you are ecstatic

the happiness was short lived for albert tho

he found his son spending time with william and there’s nothing bad right????

“where’s your sister?”

“she’s with mr. moran”

his heart DROPPED

out of all the people in the manor

HIM

he sees the two running around the garden

it all happened as soon as albert’s daughter went up to sebastian and said “you’re very pretty! you’re my knight now!”

he decided to “adopt” the little girl and now he’s lowkey whipped

you found albert staring at sebastian playing with his daughter and updated him about everything going on

“but him??”

“he’s just a big softie for her let it go”

isn’t really surprised when he finds out they can fight a little

actually glad that they can hold their own, God forbid anything happens to them

otherwise mi6 has to deal w family matters lmao

“albert, she only tripped”

“you shouldve seen the fear in her eyes as she fell”

“IT WAS A STRAY COBBLESTONE”

would raise hell if anyone even THOUGHT ill of his kids

william and louis are the doting uncles

william more so than louis bc your kids have never seen louis smile

now they’re on a mission to make uncle louis smile

louis was on child duty one day and they managed to slip away

omyGOD he was stressed but also,, extremely worried

so when he found them he had the most genuine smile on his face

your daughter was like (・∀・)

she loves uncle louis

ofc your son adores his dad like,,, who else wouldn't feel awesome at the age of 10 if you found out your dad was a high ranking general

feels superior to sebastian bc of his dad

lmao this 4’5 kid thinks he can rule sebastian for some odd reason

the house is always dirty bc him and sebastian always prank each other

your daughter is trying to catch a butterfly but she can’t so fred helps

instantly loves fred

“is that what heartbreak is”

“i guess that’s what happens when you try to get close to my kids colonel”

albert is kind of afraid of turning into his dad but he has you and everyone else to remind him that: no you are not your father, you are so much better than him

loves your family with his entire being

sebastian: 844 words

“i see you looking at those kids and the answer is none”

lmao you’ll get so pouty around him bc you want kids dammit

that and he spoils you to no end so that's why you’re pouty lol

“fine we’ll only do one kid and bc one kid is all i can tolerate”

bruh

this man gives you three in four years LMFAO

two boys a year apart and a girl in the fourth year

you wanted to smack sebastian

when the two boys grew up, it was obvious they were already taking after their father in the physical sense

it was terrifying

they genuinely look like mini sebastians and you know everyone in the manor is afraid that you two birthed satan

and the satan was your eldest one

he’s just a feral sebastian moran in a tiny body

your second son, god bless him, looked just like his father but with fred’s temperament

and see, you were fine with your sons looking like their father

it was FINE right

you prayed to God that your third child would have at least some physical resemblance to you

your daughter was birthed, she grew up

and you cried

“HOW DO THEY ALL LOOK LIKE YOU”

“i’ve got some strong genetics, baby”

you sulk for a lil bit

but you accept it anyway because you love your goddamn kids

thankfully, your second and youngest child are both soft spoken and it's only your husband and his tiny clone bringing hell to earth

smacking sebastian bc all of your children suddenly started swearing up a storm at each other

“WHYD YOU HIT ME”

“YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO SWEARS AROUND THE KIDS”

finally sitting down and trying to convince them to stop swearing

“father does it!”

“your father’s stupid”

speaking of your daughter

she’s his little princess and no he will not take criticism

spoils her more than he spoils you

did she glance at a toy at a passing store?

he buys more toys than he should from said store

you have to physically hide some of his money bc there is only so much you can buy

and her older brothers are so caring you want to sob

if a person accidentally shoved her over bc she was tiny and they couldn’t see her

oh boy

get ready to restrain them like chihuahuas

“little sister will be protected at all costs”

since his second son is so different from him, sebastian actively makes time to talk about what the little boy is doing and what he’s getting from it

doesn’t want to be pushy and suffocating like his dad was so when his younger kid does want to be left alone to his devices, sebastian does so

but honestly loves that your second son is so literate

lddhsajdsfk what yall dont know is that they’re all in cahoots

kinda funny to see them all together bc they all take after their father so much it's like having three tiny sebastians go around town

anyways,,,, yall know the promised neverland right

you got ray, norman, and emma

granted one of them wasn’t as smart as ray but he definitely knew what stealth was

regular sibling rivalry was still a thing but if they could smell the pudding from the kitchen, they know they have to work together

sebastian caught his eldest smuggling biscuits into a small bag

he had half a mind to scold him

but then he ended up giving tips TO ALL HIS CHILDREN on how not to get caught next time—

bc of this they beg him to tell them some stories from afghanistan bc “there’s no way a man as old as dad knows this many stealth tactics”

louis is so fed up lmao

albert is in london most of the time so he just thanks the lord that he doesn’t have to deal w the propaganda that sebastian feeds his children about how “mr. albert is a bad man”

william is fine w it as long as they don’t trash the library

your younger ones love the library so they would cry at the thought of one of the books losing any of the pages

your second and your daughter are definitely the moriartys’ favorites

they don’t show it, but you just KNOW

your eldest could care less about that though

as long as you and his father still love him

and of course you both do

and fred is definitely your youngers favorite

they like to hang out in the garden

ok they still fight all the time though

just because your second child is soft spoken doesn't mean he’s afraid to throw hands

their sister likes to join in for the hell of it

but if someone wrongs any of the children

just because the younger ones are the moriartys’ favorite, doesn’t mean that they’re not gonna hunt someone down if they even think about trying to hurt the eldest too

yeah,,, good luck to them and their families

they got the entire moriarty estate coming after them

fred: 241 words

cmon yall are like,, young

but you did ask him bc you were curious if he thought about it

he wants one

and when yall do have the kid, you guys actually do have one kid and its a girl

since you both are young, you can immediately see a resemblance between her and her father

everyone who meets her would die for her

ABSOLUTE CUTIE

especially when she walks around the garden w her hand in her dad’s and he’s showing her all the plants and telling her how to take care of them

needless to say she grows up loving plants

any type of plant

the boys love giving her flowers or anything from bc she has the biggest smile every single time

no matter if it’s just a single rose or a rock

this was found out one time when sebastian gave her a rock bc everyone else had given her like,, two roses each

was afraid she was gonna cry

“thank you so much mr. moran! i will treasure this until i get old!”

she was like 4 at the time

and had the widest smile you’ve ever seen on her

guys u don’t understand she smiles a lot but this was like,, genuine happiness

but everyone was just,, i will destroy the world and myself if anything happens to her

fr it’s just sunshines and rainbows every single time she’s around

everyone just loves her ok

moriarty the patriot general taglist: @zoehanji

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #louis moriarty #louis james moriarty x reader #louis moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #albert moriarty #albert james moriarty x reader #albert moriarty x reader #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x reader #fred porlock

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chloe-online · 3 years

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loved and i lost

hi, atm chris is my comfort character (its bc of re vendetta rbjhe) so i wanted to write a lil something :) honestly with everything going on rn im not putting too much effort into it (hence the title) and i do apologize for that. also want to mention i probably didn't paragraph right but ignore it. i hope you enjoy anyway!

pairing: Chris redfield x fem!reader

its been four months. four months since you got that call from the BSAA breaking the news to you. ever since your life hasnt been the same. Chris Redfield, the love of your life, died on his mission and his body wasnt recovered. you couldnt even have closure, all you were told is that he was gone.

you let out a sigh at the memory. you were trying your best to take care of yourself but it was just really hard. having chris in your life meant that you had someone to look up to, someone to work for, but now that someone is gone.

you sighed, pouring the milk into your cheerios. if chris was here you would've cooked a proper meal, but cereal was easiest and it filled you up just enough that it would last you till tomorrow.

you sat out on the porch slowly lifting the spoon up to your mouth over and over. you looked up to the sky, there wasn't a star in sight. the stars were shimmering, and it made you take your meal and go back inside. you couldn't handle the memory of eating under the stars with chris.

you flushed your cereal down the toilet and went to place your bowl in the sink, which was overflowing with dirty dishes. you meant to do them but everytime you tried you physically couldn't. while you piling your empty bowl in the sink you decided that a shower was well needed.

you made your way to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. your hair was a mess, you've been wearing the same clothes for 3 days, and your face was smeared with makeup you tried doing earlier. you wanted to try and make yourself presentable because leon said he was coming over but you realized you couldn't let anyone see the state you were living in, so you canceled your plans with him and apologized.

you turned the water on, stripped yourself, and stepped into the warm shower. you just stood there for a few moments, soaking in the warmth. you were in and out in the span of 5ish minutes, you just wanted to clean yourself up a little bit and the warm water did that just fine.

you slipped into some black shorts and one of chris' shirts. it still smelled like him and it soothed you but at the same time it brought tears to your eyes. you missed him so much, it hurt. you curled up into bed and cuddled your blanket as if it was him. you couldn't stop the tears, they just kept coming.

you stayed like this for a long while. since you didn't finish what was supposed to be your dinner you thought it might be a good idea to get a small snack before you go to bed. as your feet touched the carpet you heard glass shatter from across the house.

there was no way it was leon or claire, they had a key so they would've came in through the front door. someone broke in. you scurried into the bathroom and locked the door. you put the passcode in on your phone and called chris' number, you knew he wouldn't pick up but you liked to leave voicemails, it made you feel safe. you tried your best to be quiet but you were crying and your voice was shakey.

"hi chris, i know you'll never get this but just pretending to talk to you is enough for me. someones in the house, I'm scared but i think I'm safe. i love you, i miss you so much baby," you managed to muster. you hung up and put your phone away.

it was silent for a while so you figured you'd just go check it out and if you felt uneasy, or if you knew someone was there still you'd call 911. the door opened with a creak and you tiptoed out to the kitchen.

you thought the coast was clear so you leaned your back onto the kitchen island, debating if you should continue to look around or if you should just lock yourself in the bathroom and deal with it in the morning. but when you put your back to the island it was already too late.

someone crept up from the other side and in seconds you were unconscious.

_________________________________________________

".... i love you, i miss you so much baby." *voicemail ends*

chris let out an angry sigh, this mission was too much. he knew he had to go make sure y/n was okay. her voice was shaky, and she sounded very scared.

four months ago he was assigned to a mission where he had to fake his death. ever since he'd get voicemails and text messages from you. it broke his heart to see how sad you were. this job was very important but he thought that you deserved to know that he was okay, it should've been like that from the beginning.

"hq I'm going home, i will be back."

"Alpha you cannot just abandon your post, this mission is important."

"i don't fucking care! i have to go make sure y/n is okay. someone broke in. canine and umber eyes are taking over till I'm back." Chris just hoped he wasnt too late

_________________________________________________

you were drugged, blindfolded, and tied up to one of the dining chairs. you could only hear them taking valuables, digging through drawers, cabinets, and any other storage unit you had. they paused and you could hear them pick up a picture frame and chuckle under their breath.

"well well, you're chris redfields girl? you're a fucking mess! there's no fucking way he put up with you. maybe that's why he died," those words hit pretty hard. tears threatened to start falling again. your lack of response clearly pissed him off.

"its your fault he's gone y'know, let that sink in. if you were good enough he'd still be here!" at this point he was grabbing your face, taunting you. he was obviously just trying to hurt your feelings, and it worked. satisfied with what he did, he threw your head back and let go.

"pathetic," at that moment there was a knock at the door. the robber voiced a very confused 'what the fuck?' you heard the door creak open followed by a loud thud. it sounded like someone hit the floor. grunts and sounds of fighting filled the room.

'is leon here to help me?' the sounds of fighting came to a stop and footsteps were heading your way. you felt a oddly familiar hand touch your shoulder.

"please don't hurt me, i don't want to leave my friends, we need each other."

"hey, hey baby its me," your blindfold was torn off and your eyes were met with chris' soft brown ones. once you were free of the chair you clung to Chris and buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"i thought you were gone, i missed you so much," you guys just held each other for a while. you pushed away and pulled chris into a kiss, which he gladly returned the favor.

"I'll explain what happened, i promise. just please come with me," you instantly agreed. chris was here and you couldn't be happier.

sorry for any typos, i hope you enjoyed!

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #chrisredfield #bsaa #re8 #resident evil vendetta #this isnt that good but i hope u enjoyed it anyway #im actuallyy proud of dis one #hehe #luv u

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himbodjarin · 3 years

Text

LUNAR; CH8

18+ ONLY Series Content: Graphic descriptions of gore and smut. Din Djarin/Third Person POV. Chapter Word Count: 8263 (im sorry) Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader - no use “y/n”

The Mandalorian is a driven warrior — traversing the galaxy in search of the ancient Jedi — but everyone has their weaknesses, and he’s no different. The Bounty Hunter possessed three in fact. One he’s discovered—The Child. The remaining two, though, he wasn’t aware of their existence. At least, not until he meets a valorous Sharpshooter underneath a moonless night sky; then he’s plummeting down a dark mission of self-discovery, questioning his morals and his Creed while the moon taunts him, the phases of the satellite corresponding to his personal revelations. However, the Girl has a dark past that may come to inflict hardships on the Mandalorian and the Child; it's up to the Bounty Hunter to decide her fate.

Read on AO3 / Series Masterlist

CHAPTER EIGHT: BLUE MILK PANCAKES

Mando still can’t grasp it actually happened—that he’d been so fortunate to experience such a jaw-dropping night with the Girl, with no ulterior motives no less. Back in his youth, when he was naive and desperate, it wasn’t exactly infrequent for a fling to take advantage of him; spend a quick few minutes so that one may eliminate him in his distraction or gain intel on private matters. The Girl didn’t try that—didn’t want that. She sought to provide him with sweet relief and nothing more, not even her own relief.

He felt so fucking worshipped.

Mando is the first of them to wake in the early rise of the sun. He sits there for a moment, savouring the gleaming rays shining through the viewport to warm his beskar and, consequently, his rigid body underneath. The Crest is coated in a layer of ice, corroding the durasteel beneath and, accompanied by the packed snow resting atop, it’s refrigerating the inside of the spacecraft. Mando slips on the discarded glove from overnight—a warmth surfacing his cheeks upon the reminder of last night’s events—and supplies friction to either hand in the prospect it’ll produce warmth. It’s wishful thinking.

Granting him the opportunity to adjust to his surroundings, Mando stretches in his chair and virtually moans at the pulsations ranging through his limbs. It starts at his shoulders and travels through his core, nudging against the wound on his back and easing the tension out of his muscles, and reaches to the bottom of his toes which practically curl with delight.

Mando considers removing the helmet to rub his eyes—the crust in the corners a botheration—lift it a tad in the least, but he doesn’t get the chance. The Child coos beside him, his little arms reaching up for assistance.

“How did you get up here?” he asks, placing him on his knees. The Child doesn’t answer—why would he—and concentrates on balancing across the joints to tinker with deactivated buttons of the nav controls. “Where to, kid?” Mando scans the system’s database for a paragon planet to hunker down for a few days; spend some time with the kid—and the Girl, of course—before being ripped away from the semi-domestic life and continue on his unwritten path of planet-hopping.

There’s a planet not too far; small population, plenty of wilderness for the kid to explore, and there’s not much traffic that passes through. It’s good, perfect almost, and Mando is hesitant to accept the temptation. The Child’s head rotates to look at his guardian, his large green ears twitching curiously. He sighs and sets the coordinates for the planet despite his better judgement. It’s too fortunate; the last ‘safe’ planet they visited ended up in him protecting an entire village and the kid almost being killed. Although, he’s made a trustworthy ally who’ll assist if something were to go down. He glances behind him at the Girl, raking his brown eyes across her contorted body in the seat.

“Hang on, kid.” Mando lifts himself out of the pilot chair, leaving behind a monitoring toddler in his place, and kneels beside the Girl in the passengers. She’s sleeping peacefully and he doesn’t disturb her, despite the positioning she’s managed to get herself into. It’s unpleasant on his eyes and it couldn’t be comfortable. With a tremble in his back muscles, he reaches behind his neck and peels the cloak from his armour to drape it across her figure, relying on it to provide at least a small portion of warmth to her. She clasps the garment slightly and a smile surfaces his lips, his leathers coming up to brush a stroke across her cheek faintly—only lasting a second or two before detaching from her like an uncooperative magnet. Once she’s finally soothed back into position, Mando retrieves the safety belt from beside her and secures it across her waist before grudgingly tearing away from the Girl. “Looks like you’re with me.”

The Child squeals with enjoyment as the Mandalorian returns to his seat.

“Shh,” he instructs, glancing back to see the Girl motionless. He sighs with relief.

Mando joins the buckle’s latches together and wraps an arm around the Child to secure him against himself. The thrusters wake with a roar and quake the craft’s hull, the ion accelerator chamber thawing the thrusters nozzles of their icy barricade—shit, the ice. It’ll pose a threat, a handicap at the minimum if it doesn’t defrost soon enough. He cringes as the Crest whines against the glacier's dominance on his landing gear, but with the newly-maintenance thrusters, it’s no match against the craft. It rips from the ice and retracts to the hull’s underbelly, allowing Mando to manipulate the ship through the sky and out of the atmosphere; slabs of ice and snow descend to the ground beneath them.

The feeble bumpiness fades into a smooth flight and Mando activates the autopilot controls. “Not so bad, huh?” He disconnects the buckle from his belt and slips out of the chair, letting the Child sit in the warm leather. “Don’t go touching things—and don’t wake her up,” he quickly adds, noting the Child’s inquisitive staring as though he hadn’t genuinely noticed her earlier.

Mando sighs and hopes he’ll listen to his request just this once.

The Crest’s hold had been cleaned, just as the Girl promised to do, hardly even a speck of dust surfaced the floor. She’d been busy—and he had just been preoccupied with himself. Mando sighs to himself and browses through his reserved clothing. It mostly consists of bunking apparel—a couple of loose shirts and favourable pants—that he hadn’t had the opportunity to put to use since he fostered the Child. He’s expected—required to remain on the defensive at all times with the Guild breathing down his neck.

He sorts through the articles and grabs the spare flight suit, his only other. It would be ideal to purchase another, especially now with this one having been ripped, but it wasn’t a necessity presently. The fabric in his hands smells of dirt and grime, residue from the lake he attempted to clean it in all those weeks ago, but it’s better than his current—tattered, bloody, sweaty, and cum-stained. What a combination.

Perhaps he should invest in a refresher for his Crest. That way he wouldn’t be hunched over in the dark corners of the hold, stripping the beskar steel from his body for anybody to stumble across. It didn’t provide much assurance being within eyeshot of the cockpit ladder and with the lack of places to conceal himself, his hurried movements advanced. Then again the sheer thought of the Girl seeing him like this—and joining him—isn’t unpleasant; it would make the situation a whole lot less embarrassing.

He peels the last of his beskar from his body and stacks it against the wall, reorienting himself to slip out of his boots. It’s been a while since he last stood without any armour, excluding the helmet, and it feels refreshing in a way. But it doesn’t feel right.

Mando wasted no time in replacing the flight suit, smoothing the fabric out with his gloves and reapplying the ensemble of beskar; each patch of steel fitting snugly where it belongs. It’s slightly more bearable, not having to feel his own mess rubbing against him on the inside of the fabric, and he shoves the dirty flight suit in replace of the clean. He’ll get around to washing it when he has the time—or burn it by virtue of the rip across the arm.

Speaking of arms, the bacta patch on his bicep had aided the wound significantly and within the next day or two, it should be healed. The lesion on his back was a different story. It’s still sore, somewhat better with a night’s rest, but it’ll be a while before he’s out there firing blasters with that same authority. It could cause jeopardy if he’s not cautious.

The Razor Crest abruptly rumbles and falls into a fit of tremors, hurling the Mandalorian against the stationary carbonite pods with fury. “Shit,” he growls and grips his bicep, pleading he won’t bleed through the fresh clothes so soon. It pulses again and the engines’ whining travels through the ventilation, discharging a high-pitched shriek followed by a low hum of a whistle.

“Man-fuck, Mando!” the Girl beckons from upstairs. Mando is quick on his feet up the ladder, clinging desperately to the rungs upon another spasm. “I was sleeping a-and the kid…” She doesn’t need to finish for him to understand, for the Child is sitting underneath the nav panel with colourful cords in his hands; wire coverings peeled away to expose the electricity hazards sparking in his fists.

“Kid, no!” Mando scolds and snatches the cables from his stubborn claws. He babbles a complaint to his guardian as he’s being relocated far away from the electricity. He’s completely dismantled it—Mando will need to implement an entirely new wiring system for the navigation controls alone; a job he’s not suited for. He turns to the Girl for support.

“Don’t look at me,” she raises her hands defensively, “I only know bits and pieces.”

Innocently burbling besides the Mandalorian, the Child watches as leather gloves track across the navigation controls urgently. He’s unbothered by the predicament they’re in—just glad that his guardian had returned to the cockpit’s cabin, it appears. Mando groans in annoyance, fumbling with the nav and fighting against it’s constant glitching. “We’re in luck. There’s a planet on the way. Tatooine. Someone can help us there.”

“Yeah. Heard of it,” she mutters, regrettably, and he wonders what that is all about but it can wait. It wasn’t the time to sweat over the small details. “We’re not going to crash, are we?”

He contemplates, glancing over the system’s diagnosis and dismisses the electrical yammering it erupts. “Shouldn't—there’ll just be a lot of turbulence.”

That there is—turbulence and a great deal of it. There’s too much to maintain an uncoiled stomach throughout the remainder of the short flight and they’re both surprised when they’re successful in their landing, especially without the contents of their stomach having been dumped over themselves. Peli Motto—an innovative mechanic but a bit too communicatory for the Mandalorian’s preference—stands in her hangar with two greasy hands on her hips, eyes squinting through the viewport to gaze up at Mando. Better have my credits ready to go this time, he can already hear her say and he sighs. Credits he did have, but they weren’t exactly his, and there wasn’t much to spare.

“I’ll see to her,” Mando announces and retrieves the Child, “would you care to join?”

The Girl seems hesitant and peers out the viewport curiously. “Do you trust her?”

Mando takes another glance outside. Peli’s droids are nearing his ship to begin operations but with one stern look from the woman, they back away from the craft. “I do.”

The Girl sighs and peels herself from her seat, fiddling with the cloak that had been laid across her body earlier. “This, uh-”

“Clip it on for me,” he instructs and turns, waiting for familiar hands to run across his shoulders. It takes a moment and he considers retrieving it himself, but he’s patient and it pays off—her fingers playing with the neck covering to manipulate the cloak into place, her digits stroking against the back of his neck underneath all the thick fabric. It’s therapeutic somehow or other. He doesn’t quite understand it himself, but feeling the Girl’s pressure against him relaxes him; eases his eyes closed until all he wants to do is sleep, in her arms preferably and with his head on her chest—his head, not his helmet. Mando wants to press his ear against her flesh and listen to her heartbeat, her breathing, but most of all he just wants to be touched and to touch another.

The Girl smoothes her hands out across the cloak, running her palm down his back and ending just before it reaches the curve at the bottom. “There you go.” She smiles. Fuck, her smile. It makes him want to say something stupid, something embarrassing just to get the same reaction out of her; he wants to be the cause of that smile on her face. She adds, “Thank you.”

Mando twists to face her again, his head tilting. “What for?”

“Buckling me up and, uh, giving me the cloak,” she confesses, a timid hue of pink on her cheeks—she was blushing. “You could have given it to the kid or just kept it yourself, but… you didn’t. So, thank you.”

He swallows and reaches his hand up—for what, he doesn’t know. It’s not until his digits touch the soft padding of her cheek that he notices he’s making a move, his strokes transforming into uncertain shakes. The Girl’s blush deepens at the contact and she places her hand atop his, giving a quick squeeze of reassurance.

With that, his head is back to sorting through indecent thoughts and actions—but none are related to those they had been previously; they’re not obscene nor lustful. It’s his Creed that they’re unethical towards. He imagines the Girl reaching for his helmet, her slender fingers brushing against his chin as she does so, and lifts the steel to unmask the face that’s been sealed away for a long, long time. If she tried to do it right here, right now, he’s not positive whether he would stop her.

“We shouldn’t keep her waiting, it’ll be rude.”

She can wait, is what he wants to say, instead, he murmurs a simple, “Right.”

The Child appears satisfied in Peli’s arms, a large smile on his face as he glares up at the Mandalorian ahead of him. He’s receiving every ounce of attention he can muster out of the woman. “You telling me this little one did all that? Maybe if you gave him a little more attention he wouldn’t be tearing out your cables!”

“What do you mean?” Mando ponders. She runs a finger across the kid’s batwing ears and gestures behind him in the distance where the Girl preoccupies herself tending to their blasters. “What are you getting at?”

“Oh, come on! Do I have to spell it out for you? Are you that oblivious?” She sighs and soothes the Child, “You’ve found yourself another lifeform to harbour—probably spending an awful lot of time with her, aren’t ya?”

He’s not oblivious, not in the slightest; he’s just trying to avoid coming to terms with the thoughts in his head. However, he hadn’t noticed his lack of bonding with the Child and he mentally scolds himself. Of course, the kid wants attention, all kids do, and he’s probably becoming rather frustrated at the inadvertent neglect as a by-product of Mando’s fantasies.

“I ain’t saying ya shouldn’t indulge a little,” Peli chuckles and wags her hairless eyebrows at the visor, “I don’t blame ya for that. It must be hard adapting to having a girl like that on board your ship.”

Mando quietly sighs under his helmet but a blush lines his cheeks nonetheless. He’s relieved she can’t see it. He grumbles, “Get to the point.”

“Point is, you can’t ignore a child like that,” she explains, “he’s an impish little critter—smart, too. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did that on purpose to get your attention.”

“He’s costing me a lot of credits for attention.” Black-brown eyes observe the looming figure of beskar and Mando softens slightly. Peli watches with interest and returns the toddler to his arms. “The Girl-”

“She’ll be fine,” she assures, “if she wants to help, I’ll be sure to give her a real workout—don’t worry she won’t be too drained.”

The Mandalorian commits a final leer at the mechanic, enough to cause her to pull her lips tight into a smirk, and he returns to the Girl’s side to exchange his goodbyes, “I’m going to head into town and see if there are any jobs available.”

The Girl raises an eyebrow in question and pauses polishing the blasters, “I’m not coming with you?”

Does she want to come with him? The vocoder emits a hum of thought but ultimately he knows she should stay behind this time, “Peli reckons I should spend time with the kid. Shouldn’t take too long—I’ll just head in and grab the kid a meal, look around for intel… I’ll be back before it’s dark.”

She nods, understanding. “I’ll—just wait here then.”

Mando reciprocates her nod and hesitantly steps back, but the Girl’s fingers loop through his belt and draws him in close to her once again. He steadies himself with a hand on the dip of her waist, digits unconsciously poking into the flesh deeper, and he angles the helmet to her eye level in disarray.

The familiar weight of his blaster slips into position against his thigh but he doesn’t tear his eyes away to look, he doesn’t want to move at all. “Might need it,” she explains, her tone hushed, “it’s good to go.” She lightly taps the blaster with her free hand and he stiffens when her palm comes to rest atop it, the tips of her fingers brushing against the outside of his thigh.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Her lips curl into a cunning grin and she tries to hide it by lifting herself onto her toes and breathing through the fabric surrounding his neck. Mando’s muscles flex involuntarily and the hand on her hip slinks a path to the curve of her back, where he fists a bundle of poncho fabric in his leathers. She whispers, “How’s your back feeling?”

“It’s - it’s better.”

She exhales softly and he swears he can feel it through the cloth, warming his jugular with her gleaming words, “So, you won’t be needing my help tonight?” Mando groans as she weakly pats the lesion deep underneath his cloak—it doesn’t hurt, more or less stings like a Droch crawling through his skin and draining his energy, but that was the Girl’s disposition more so than the wound’s sensitivity.

“Well,” Mando clears his throat and steps closer—if that’s even possible—so his lower-half is pressing against her waist, evoking a hitch of his own breath from the contact. She’s so soft against him. “I might need a hand…”

She chuckles into his neck, sending the vibrations from her throat into his and it makes a beeline to his heart. It vortexes around the organ, a current so strong it’d be fatal to terminate the stream. Not that he wanted to stop it. It’s such a pleasant feeling, the phantoms of sunshine-esque tendrils applying a pacifying pressure that feels like that of an embrace; warm hands clasping his heart and delivering delicate kisses across the muscle. He can almost sense the cushioning of lips against the pulsing organ.

“Ya know, I’ve got more than just hands.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, practically drooling at the mere suggestion—he’d be so sluggish to drag it out as long as possible, every single touch of his deliberate to commit all her curves, bumps, even bruises, to memory. Store it away for a gloomy day, like a breach in the clouds; sunbeams breaking through the overcast and introducing a warmth like none other.

Mando cranes his neck to the side slightly and she takes the invite to burrow deeper. The blood in his neck is hot and the air in his helmet sultry. He wants to do nothing but drag her back to the ship and lock themselves away for the remainder of the day, but the irritated child on his hip is starting to get antsy. Mando gasps, “Need to - to take the kid out.”

She hums her sympathy against his neck, “Take your time. I’ll be here.”

Well, time was indeed taken, or however the saying goes.

The Mandalorian had been forced into conversations all day courtesy of the Child; he just couldn’t seem to stop touching things or feeding on display products of each stall they’d pass. Mando’s entire vocabulary had been decreased to continuous sorry’s and kid, no! It doesn’t just end there. The Child was inquisitive of all his surroundings, particularly places Mando couldn’t fit himself—it made for some awkward dialogue between him and the kiosk attendants when he’d be on his hands and knees rummaging around for a loose alien baby.

“I’m not stealing!” He’d reassure but it’d have the opposite effect and turn heads, people eyeing him with curiosity; a Mandalorian, like that in folklore, frantically chasing a little green toddler with something half-alive dangling from its mouth. He’s made a fool out of himself enough for a day. The Child, on the other hand, is still persistent—giving him somewhat of the silent treatment until Mando bargains a promise of food.

The Child attentively watches his food in the arms of the server, streaks of steam and a tender fragrance wafting in his direction as it settles onto the table ahead. “Thank you,” Mando nods and leans back in his seat, unequipping a small bag of leftover credits he could spare for the day and sliding it across the wooden surface, “do you know of any employment opportunities?”

“Regrettably not, sir,” the waiter replies and exchanges final pleasantries before returning behind the buffet to assist an unruly patron.

Mando sighs and returns his guard to the Child—who grabs a spoonful of scalding liquid and squeals in delight—and chews on the inside of his lip in thought. Tatooine is just as detestable as the last time he was here—the hustle and bustle never-ending. One would think that the Mandalorian could blend in with such an immense and diverse population, but his outright existence drew attention to himself; it’s becoming a ritual each time he steps foot inside a cantina. People’s discussions quickly cease as they scrutinise the warrior upon his entrance, contemplating whether they could neutralize him and pry the beskar steel from his body to sell in the black market. Some have tried and failed, of course. In his youth, Mando thrived off the sensation. It was empowering to have others tremble in their skin at the sheer sight of a Mandalorian, but he’s matured and those days are long since dead. He’s travel-worn, too exhausted to concern himself with people’s thoughts regarding him, so long as they weren’t orchestrating his downfall.

“I ain’t never seen a thing like this before,” a disembodied voice mutters from behind the Mandalorian, the shoddy cantina lighting casting a shadow across their table. Mando doesn’t tear his attention from the Child but reaches for his blaster nonetheless, the leathers fiddling with the hilt in preparation. “Where’d you get it?”

When he doesn’t reply, the figure shifts to come between him and the Child—a trandoshan with wide-set eyes and sharp pointed teeth, sneering at the man underneath the beskar. She’s got yellow-brown scaly skin and dons a protective piece underneath an unbuttoned shirt, with a hunting rifle across her back and a carbine strapped to her belt. She steals a chair from the closest table and swings it around to join the pair, placing her elbows on the table and looking back-and-forth between Mando and the Child.

“We’re looking to raise a youngling like this, maybe something a lil’ bit more competent than this one.” The Child’s green ears perk up at the stranger but just as quickly dismisses her, plunging the spoon into the womp rat stew for seconds or thirds—Mando wasn’t keeping track. She glances behind Mando and waves a hand and calls, “Bookoo, what d’ya think?”

Bookoo—a Wookiee decked with nothing more than a dual bandolier across his chest and a small satchel at his hip—appears into view, soaring over the accumulated individuals and extends a welcoming smile at Mando underneath the shaggy rug of his face. “Muawa, ur oh.”

“No? What, you think we’re gonna get anything better?”

Mando interrupts, tired of the banter, “He’s not going with you.”

“We have credits,” she taps the satchel on Bookoo’s hip, they clash against one another inside the leather.

“He’s not for sale.” Mando tears himself from his seat and shepherds the Child into his arms, ignoring the burbles and whines he emits as he tries to grab hold of the bowl. Mando turns for the exit, intently listening to the whispers of the pair behind him, but stops when called for.

“Uh-sir... Mandalorian, sir?” He turns on his heels and eyes the waiter who places two small packages stacked together atop the counter. “Your dessert, sir.”

The Trandoshan eyes the Mandalorian as he awkwardly balances the boxes in one arm and the Child in the other. She steps forwards once his hands are far from his blaster to make her claim, “I promised my group I’d bring back an apprentice, ya see? With a lil’ bit of training, that thing should be good to go. Ain’t that right, Bookoo?”

Bookoo steps back defensively, “Mu waa waa.”

“Stupid Wookiee,” she mutters and rises from her stool, her bare feet tapping against the cantina’s duracrete flooring. She places a claw on the counter in an attempt of intimidation, but she only sustains a pathetic reaction from the waiter. “What’s a Mandalorian need a child for anyways? You raising that thing to become one?”

“We’re done talking.”

“Aw, come on. We’re just having a small chat. No need to run for the dunes.”

The Mandalorian denies her the satisfaction of retaliation and continues outside. The familiar crunch of grit a welcoming sound through his filters—he never thought he’d be comforted by such a sound. The Trandoshan yells one last remark before he steers a corner, “If you change your mind, we’ll be here!”

He’s suspicious of their intentions—and uncertain whether they were tailing him—so he weaves through the night crowd, bumping and pushing the drunkards to and fro. Once he’s scampered plenty, and positive they hadn’t been stalking his footsteps, he returns to Peli’s hangar with a drowsy Child and now-cold dessert. Optimally, the kid will be tuckered out for the rest of the night but it was never a certainty—he just hopes he’ll give him some privacy for at least a few hours.

Peli wipes grease on a rag hanging from a belt hoop of her coveralls and offers Mando a smile, “I assume you got yourself a job?”

Mando shakes his head in defeat and delivers one of the takeaway boxes in her hands.

“What’s this?” She opens the box and her eyes practically light up with joy but it’s short-lived as she eyes him suspiciously, “Is this a bribe?”

“Just a nice gesture. I thought.”

“Hmm,” Peli hums and closes the box, nodding her head slightly. “Well, ‘bout that ship of yours… It’ll be two thousand.”

Two thousand. It’ll bleed their funds dry, but the Crest needs repairs. Without them, they’d be stranded here on Tatooine for the unforeseeable future—something Mando really couldn’t accommodate. There’s too much sand. Too many people. His calloused hands aren’t for sitting on; they’re created to work, and he won’t allow himself to leisure around a planet without performing some act.

The Girl won’t be pleased to hear he’s gone and spent a large sum of her earnings—not to mention how she’ll react when she ultimately comprehends she will be required to stay a little longer than expected. Mando feels his lips curling and he tries to smother it with reasoning; tries to tell himself he can’t keep her detained alongside him forever, but he’s obstinate and doesn’t take heed of his own advice. There’s a leap in his heart and a twisting in his stomach at the thought she’ll remain beside him for a little while longer—at least until he has the credits.

Perhaps the Child was onto something when he went and ripped all those wires out.

“That’s with a discount,” Peli adds.

“I should buy more of those.”

Peli scoffs at his jesting comment and tosses the takeaway parcel atop a flat surface. “The Girl. She’s good with her hands.”

If only she knew.

Something within the mechanic suggests that she does, in fact, know judging by the speculation written across her face; her squinted eyes waltzing his figure and her teeth chomping on the inside of her cheek to avoid voicing a sarcastic comment. The shield of beskar may disrupt his facial expressions—concealing them to only his cognisance—but his mannerisms are increasingly heightened to others and he’s gradually realising he’s not as proficient in masking them as he originally thought.

Mando swallows a thick lump in his throat and shifts his weight to one foot, his hip cocking out vaguely. “Is the maintenance finished?” he asks, shifting the topic to something he can reduce the awkwardness with.

Peli clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, “Oh, you mean the replacement of the entire navigational controls? Yeah, did it all by myself in a matter of a few hours. No help from my droids. No, it’s not done! Do you know anything about spacecraft restoration?”

“I typically leave that in the hands of...professionals.” Mando chooses carefully. “When will it be ready?”

“Me and your Girl are done for the night.”

His Girl?

Mando’s cheeks flush mildly, a faint tint of pink lining across his nose accompanied by a heat tackling the inside of his visor. Those two little words sound exceptional as the settle surrounding him, fogging his head with the seven letters—seven letters that he couldn’t relate to. They don’t belong to him; wouldn’t belong to him.

But he lets himself fantasise they could—they are.

His Girl.

Mando’s lips ghost underneath the beskar, mouthing the words to himself as though to test the waters; dipping his toes in the substance and sampling the texture before sinking into it, letting it engulf him. He thinks of His Girl’s lips and how soft, how gentle, they looked. Her lips are the sandy borders of a beach—sand he wouldn’t mind if it were to wedge its way through his flight suit to abuse his body— and her tongue, her saliva, are the waters; refreshing but salty, leaving him thirsty for more.

Peli drags him out of his daydreaming without realising it, “But it should be up and running before the suns’ at its peaks. So you better have my credits ready! I’m not free labour, ya know.”

“Don’t worry,” he groans, “you’ll get the payment.”

She crosses her arms taut over her chest and squints at him suspiciously, probably wondering how he’s going to manage to pay her, but her determination fades into moderate compassion with a deep exhale. “All right, gimme the kid.”

“What? Why?”

Her earthy eyes flick up to the cockpit’s viewport and Mando twists his body to observe. The top of the Girl’s head can be seen from his perspective, her arms raised high above her in a stretch and then just as quickly disappears out of sight. Peli teasingly shoves Mando’s shoulder and laughs, “Go on, I’ll take the kid for the night. I’ll even do it for free; reimbursement for the dessert.”

She’s a blessing in disguise—who’s he to decline such a persuasive offer?

“Just-” Peli stabilises the weight in her arms, the Child placidly dozing off in one, “I better not be hearing all that, okay? If you wake either me or the kid up-”

“Thank you.”

She watches him, stunned, and then shakes her head and mutters something under her breath. Mando doesn’t even feel tempted to know what she’s whispering to herself, he only has one thought on his mind: His Girl.

The Mandalorian reunites with the Girl in the cockpit’s cabin. She’s sitting on the floor tinkering with loose cabling with a craned neck to accommodate for the low-rise control board. Mando’s unsure whether he’s delighted to see her down there or disappointed; something within him expecting her to be somewhere less uncomfortable, awaiting his return—it’s a selfish thought and a very hormonal one at that. He sighs to himself and sits in the passenger’s seat, his elbows leaning on his knees to peer over her shoulder. “I thought Peli said you were finished?” Mando queries.

“She’s finished. I’m not.”

Mando breathes her name, introducing it to the cramped cockpit and it’s stale air, and she pauses a moment to turn her head and look into the magnetising visor. Now he’s the one pausing. It’s comical how he’s so easily conquered by a single glance. She doesn’t look at him like that in holoplays—where her eyes gleam in the low light hanging above and her mouth twitches when she’s restraining a smile—so why does his heart flutter and his blood surge through his veins? Rather, her eyebrows are crinkled with discouragement on account of uncooperative cords and there’s a streak of oil across her forehead—she looks just as gorgeous as ever.

Mando’s voice softens as he talks to her, “Take a break. It can wait until morning.”

She dismisses his recommendation, “It’s fine, I can keep going.”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

“Quoting me to myself now, are we?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “You’re persuasive.” She chuckles some and he delves into the rumbles, enveloping himself in the bubbliness of it. “I brought food. You can have some if you stop working.”

She quirks an eyebrow and eyes the package in his leathers. “What is it?”

“Come here and look.”

“Are you having some?”

Mando contemplates, but he already knows his answer. “I’m not hungry,” he lies.

“Neither am I.” She deceitfully smiles and returns to her labours—it’s arduous, her fingers firmly twining the wires together and unravelling others apart to reconnect to a bundle loosely hanging underneath the panel.

The Mandalorian had completely forgotten how stubborn she can be, especially with his thoughts distorted by the events of last night; she had been so adaptable and willing to aid him. It’s ridiculous to think they’re the same person. Jaw clenching with defeat, Mando sighs heavily and fiddles with the takeaway box. It’s lid lifts from its fastenings to expose a small stack of fluffy cobalt-coloured pancakes. They’re slightly soggy from the absorbed condiments and stone-cold, having been outside for far too long, but they’re a Tatooine delicacy he had yet to try before.

Mando glances at the Girl and rips the pancake into sections, simultaneously watching her exhaust herself. She groans dramatically and readjusts her position, practically laying on her stomach with her torso hoisted by her elbows. It allows for her to maneuver underneath the control panels—and allows Mando to drag his eyes lower.

His leathers slide underneath the bottom of his helm and dislodge it from position, the beskar expelling a sharp hiss of air. He freezes at the reminder but the Girl doesn’t seem interested in the newly discovered noise; he continues, elevating the hindrance just above his mouth to slot in a slice of torn pancake.

They’re soft like her hands and he lets himself imagine they are—pretends the sweetness of the syrup is actually his cum on her fingers or, better yet, her own slick. He’s reluctant to even chew, not wanting to shred the impure fantasy he’s created upon himself, so he doesn’t. Mando sits there with the pancake in his mouth just holding it there, letting his tongue flatten underneath it and suck the syrup out to relish in the bittersweetness.

It’s only once he’s drained it of its flavour that he finally devours the cake in hunger. It’d been a while since he last ate, but he repeats the process with the other sections he had torn apart—struggling to contain his self-control as he savours the sweetness and imagery of the Girl writhing underneath him.

Mando plops the tips of his leathers in his mouth and absorbs the residual syrup before aligning his helmet in place yet again, his hunger reasonably quenched—his thirst for the Girl, not so much. It doesn’t help matters when she reaches for a cord and her poncho rides up, unmasking the curves of her backside and revealing a splinters-worth of skin above the hem of her pants. He indulges at the sight of taunting skin and licks a drop of syrup from his lips, imagining his head between her thighs lapping at something sweeter—tangier. Mando feels so fucking undignified around her like his honour has been squeezed out of an over-absorbed rag; dripping through the gaps in his fingers and there’s nothing he can do to catch it before it vaporises before his eyes hardly leaving a trace in its wake.

It’s wholly improper how his eyes attack her unclothed skin, obsessing over it like a glass of water in the outskirts of Tatooine. Now that he thinks about it, his mouth is significantly parched and he’s forced to bite his lip to avoid reaching out for the temptation. Still, he hungers to run his fingers across the bare flesh and explore her bumps and curves with his tongue, dragging it over her neck and feel the rumbles of her moans as he sucked on a pulsing vein. Her moans—what a magnificent sound that must be.

The unspoken promise between them plays with the dark crevices of his imagination.

I’ve got more than hands.

Mando’s unsure if she meant it; she hadn’t indicated anything to him since his return. Is she expecting him to make the first move? If so, that’s torturous in itself.

Coffee-coloured eyes battle against the azure cakes and he confronts a moral dilemma. He has an inclination to satisfy the building arousal in his pants but it doesn’t align with his traitorous voice, “Eat.”

The Girl glances over her shoulder and Lord, he could get used to that view especially with him atop of her. She reverts her gaze to the opened box in his lap. “I’m not-”

“I’ve had one,” he confesses and tilts the box to show a stack of three remainders, “two each, but you can have my other.”

“When did you… Did you take off your helmet? In front of me?”

“Behind you,” he corrects.

She doesn’t find the humour in the situation, though, which surprises Mando. “What - what about your Creed? Fuck, Mando. You can’t…”

His expression softens underneath the visor and he sinks to his knees on the ground so he’s eye-level with the Girl, clasping one of her hands in his leathers. “Don’t concern yourself with that. I didn’t remove it entirely, just enough to eat. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal? Mando-”

Mando impolitely interrupts her by pushing a torn slab of blue through her parted lips—his digits lingering longer than necessary—and he chuckles at her shocked grimace.

She swallows and slaps his pauldron, “Rude!”

“Sit down and eat.”

The Girl conforms to his invitation and settles beside him, her back firmly planted against the durasteel wall of the cockpit. Mando awkwardly lowers to sit as well, the beskar clanking against the wall behind them but he doesn’t take any notice of it. It’d be like herding a group of Nexu—utterly impossible—if he tried to concentrate on anything but her thigh against his or her hand digging through the box on his lap.

She munches on a blue cake beside him and it takes everything in him to give her privacy and not drool over the sticky syrup running down her fingers. It’s like she can read him though, her unsoiled hand hooking two fingers on the underside of the helmet and dragging it to look at her. “What about you?”

“I’ve...had one.”

“One. I don’t want you passing out on me. Here, I’ll look away.”

Mando eyes the divided dessert between her fingers and the drop of golden syrup slowly making way to her third knuckle. She’s not looking at him and can’t identify whether he’s accepting her offer or not, but she doesn’t dare retract her hand; it just hovers in the air waiting for his leathers to grasp the food from her—they don’t. Something so much softer does, though.

Mando licks a long stripe along the underside of her fingers, tearing the pancake from her clutch with his tongue and reserving it in the cheek of his mouth for later—too preoccupied with the sugary concentrate coating her fingers. She tenses at the sensations. It’s overwhelming, consuming her thoughts and spitting them out in a pile of goo. It’s almost irresistible to not look at him, to not watch as he sucks on her fingers so fucking desperately, but she’s respectful of his Creed even if it kills her.

“Mando,” she whispers because it’s too quiet, too real.

His tongue is persistent, parting her fingers from each other and lapping at the syrup in the crevices of her knuckles. It’s so sweet and he moans around her fingers at the taste on the back of his tongue. Mando doesn’t concern himself with the potential of humiliation—he ought to look downright laughable right now—because she’s so sweet and soft in his mouth, far superior to the pancake he relished earlier. There’s a puny attempt to pull away on her behalf but with a firm grip on her wrist, she holds her position inside his mouth, especially when his teeth lock her digits in place, while her other hand finds the plate of thigh armour and hooks the fingers underneath.

“Shit,” she breathes and leans into him.

The Girl’s palm flattens against his chin and he stiffens his jaw, his movements slacking behind now that he’s focused on the warmth on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him so tenderly, no - he could but he didn’t want to; didn’t want to ruin the moment with the imagery of blaster fire and his mother’s last loving touch.

Her reassuring strokes against his cheeks with her free fingers urge him on and he sucked the final of the syrup from her digits before freeing them from his lips, placing a peck on the tips. Once the helmet is resealed, he finishes the neglected pancake in his mouth.

“You’re not as reserved as you act,” she chuckles, “where was that last night?”

Mando smiles. “Come here and let me show you.”

Where was all this confidence coming from?

He doesn’t care—he’s making a fucking move while he can.

The Girl contemplates him with a raised brow and a small smirk toying at her lips. It makes him want to know what she’s thinking—formulating—in that head of hers, but he’s not left in suspense for long. She braces a leg over his lap and straddles him, constricting her inner thighs against the outside of his and tilting his helmet back to look up at her.

Mando nearly stops breathing, his organs refusing to cooperate in unison with such an unknown weight atop of him. All that confidence from earlier completely obliterates with just one roll of her hips—maybe it wasn’t confidence but arrogance, he thinks. She’s devious, he can see the pleasure in her eyes at his unfolding below her.

“Are you looking at me?” she asks, a hand on either side of his helmet to steady his head.

He nods because he doesn’t trust himself not to whine if he opens his mouth.

She looks back at him and for a moment, just a second, he feels as though she can see him, and then she grinds down and sketches the outline of his stiffening cock below her heat—and fuck if it isn’t one of the friskiest things he’s ever beared witness to. There’s just something so unique about the eye contact when she’s unravelling him like a ball of yarn; he wants to gaze into her eyes without the guard ahead of him and break her apart. “F-fuck, you’re,”-she rolls her hips again, faster-“ah, you’re too - too good to me.”

“I know,” she quips.

Daunting. It’s so fucking daunting being so paralysed with arousal underneath the Girl, stripped down to an accumulated pile of whimpers and twitches as she takes her sweet time tormenting him—and he fucking enjoys every second of it. He’s fatigued from years of bounty hunting, years of being shot, stabbed, beaten, and it’s stimulating having somebody touch him so languidly and voluntarily care for him in such a way.

“Tell me what you want, Mando.”

He swallows.

It’s so fucking ironic. He’s never had more than a few thousand credits to his name at a time and yet, pinned below the Girl with her being so provocative, he feels like the richest man alive—because it couldn’t be luck; he’d never been so fortunate to as receiving a simple bounty commission, a beautiful girl extracting every drop of arousal out of him no less.

He moans her name and inches his fingers under her poncho, “Want - fuck, I need-”

Mando’s pleas are interrupted by a suspiciously familiar disembodied voice shouting, “Come on out and nobody gets hurt!” It’s a gruff, hoarse sound that oils the cogs in his mind. The Trandoshan. She must’ve followed him here…but he took precautions…

He can’t find it within himself to tear his hands away from the Girl to survey the threat outside, so she takes it upon herself to clamber off his lap leaving him cold and hard in his pants. Molten lava rises in his chest as he raises to his feet, staring out the viewport with such vengeance it almost surprises him. The Trandoshan firmly stands with Peli Motto beside her, the barrel of her carbine pressed against her temple, and the Child squirming in her adjacent limb.

“Shit!” he growls and slams a pair of closed fists against the nav controls. It whines upon impact and blips a malfunctioning screen at his outburst.

“Hey, calm down,” she soothes, a hand slipping into his.

“They have Peli! ...The kid.”

The Trandoshan leers at him through the viewport. “Leave that blaster of yours on the ship and get down ‘ere. No funny business either! I’ll fire a hole through her head otherwise. Then the Kid’s.” She accentuates her point by thrusting the barrel against Peli’s temple harder.

The Girl fishes his blaster out of his holster. “They haven’t seen me,” she explains. “I’ll wait until you get close enough to them but don’t try anything without me.”

It could work. It could fail. He didn’t have an alternative plan.

“Okay,” he agrees, understanding the moment between them is long gone.

With one final gawp outside, Mando pries himself away from the nav controls and heads downstairs, bare. It’s not as though he’s completely defenceless; the flamethrower in his vambraces had enough fuel to get him out of a pinch, the whipcord could serve a purpose if essential, and he still possessed his vibro-knife in his boot. None of that can compare to the comfort of a blaster in his hand though.

The Child and Peli Motto’s safety is his priority, so he’ll comply with the Girl’s strategy and get as close to the Trandoshan as possible. He’ll use brute force if necessary.

They’ve relocated to an open region in the hangar where it’ll be near impossible to shield everybody if a blaster fight ensues. Preferably, it won’t come to that. The Trandoshan flexes her finger against the trigger when Peli fidgets with her hands beside her. Mando vaguely shakes his head in her direction and examines the Child’s wellbeing in the yellow-brown scaly arms.

“I’m here.” He raises his hands to demonstrate his compliance, “Let them go and we’ll talk.”

She sneers at him, laughs. “No.” The blaster reels back and whips Peli over the head, knocking her unconscious in a piled heap on the ground. Mando moves forwards, his fists tightening with each step. “Hold it right there.” The Child whines against the cold barrel pressing into his wrinkled forehead. Mando stops hastily, his eyebrows twitching with rage.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“What do you need a child for?”

She smiles hauntingly, her sharp teeth locking together through her open-mouthed grin. “We don’t need one, but this one’s got a pricey bounty on its head,”—she aims for the flesh above his heart plate—“as do you.”

Guild members. Just his luck they’d be situated on Tatooine at the same time as he is.

The Mandalorian’s visor tilts to the Child in her arms, his eyes narrowing on the outstretched green claw. The kid’s eyes shut and his forehead wrinkles as he desperately tries to concentrate on something, and then it clicks in Mando’s head. His powers. The Child hadn’t used them since they took down the Mudhorn and Mando was beginning to think they had vanished, but they mustn’t have—he’s too focused on the air ahead of him.

The Trandoshan hasn’t noticed his fidgeting and Mando takes it upon himself to keep the barrel focused on him by stepping forwards, providing the Child time to figure out his abilities. “You won’t leave here alive,” he taunts.

She seems unfazed by his remarks, too confident in her plans. “Ah, what do we have here?” The Trandoshan asks curiously, peering over the Mandalorian’s figure and he whips his head to follow. The Girl is subdued in the arms of the acquainted Bookoo, who must’ve been anticipating resistance and remained obscured from their sight.

The Girl fights against his grip but he’s far too strong for her to overpower and she limps in defeat, glancing up behind her at the Wookiee; eyes enlarging and her mouth falling agape underneath the face-covering she donned for the occasion.

Then—the last thing the Mandalorian expects to hear—the Trandoshan exclaims her name in a greeting, “It’s been a while!”

_______________________________

“Muawa, ur oh” - no, thank you “Mu waa waa” - please leave me alone

A/N: Good lord I am so sorry for an 8k chapter, I really didn’t want to split it into two. However, with this one being so long the next might not be out until the middle of next week (if I can manage to actually concentrate for long enough to write). Let me know how you enjoyed it and if you want to be added to the taglist! PS I’m running of gifs...please help...what do yall search for such hd gifs?

taglist: @ohhersheybars, @greatcircle79

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years

Note

Cockwarming with Bucky 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

I hope you enjoy! (and whoops i added a daddy kink don’t mind me)

It’s too hot.

Waaay too fucking hot. But that’s what you get for hugging a super soldier—more like clinging to his equally slick and scorching skin—while he’s balls deep inside your weeping pussy.

While it is good being close to him like this, it’s been nothing but coiled torture for you, teasing you until you can’t take any more. What’s worse is that it’s only been ten minutes of Bucky sitting in his office chair, going over reports for the mission debrief he has to present in the morning, and you’re already a panting, pathetic mess. Can you really be blamed, though, when you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as he sits comfortably inside you, so deep that you can practically feel him bulging in your stomach. When you’ve been waiting for him to come home for weeks now, not touching yourself under his orders and promises of fucking your brains out until you can no longer stand. When every stretch of his muscles brushes against yours and you swear to fucking hell that if he moves one more time you’re going to scream.

“Bucky,” you whimper. “Please, I ne—mhgm.” He cuts you off with a slap to your sore ass.

“What was that, doll?” He raises an eyebrow, eyes stern and swirling with dark lust; your pussy clenches around his thick member, and a tick in his jaw is the only sign you get that lets you know it affected him.

“I’m sorry daddy.” You whine.

“I know,” he coos. “I just need you to wait just a little bit longer. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You bite your lip to hold back the protest rising in your chest and nod your head, clutching him closer to you to bury your face in his neck as you adjust your legs to get more comfortable. He plants a kiss on the side of your neck and goes back to typing.

Okay. Okay you can do this. Just breathe and ignore the fact that you’re sitting on top of him and you feel like you’re going to implode by the agonizing clicking on the keyboard and the painful, electric fluttering of your velvety walls as you fight the instinct to move. Just ignore all of that and you can make it through this.

Barely a minute goes by and you’re back to fidgeting on his lap, grumbling and whimpering at every little scratch of his cock against your sensitive walls.

“Darling,” he warns, not even turning away from his work.

“‘M sorry,” you’re quick to apologize. “I can’t just sit here with your dick in me and not fucking move.”

Your heart skips and your eyes widen as soon as you register your outburst. You wait with baited breath for your punishment—you hope that whatever it is, it gives you that delectable friction you’ve been begging for—but when you feel his shoulders and stomach trembling with gruff laughter, you lift your head away from his neck and muster the best pout you can make with the curve of your lips.

“Aww,” Bucky drawls mockingly. “Is my babygirl upset?” You shake your head. “Too fucking cockhungry for your own good, hm?” You nod, which makes him chuckle again; you can’t help but join in with your own. “I gotta do these reports baby, you know that. Why don’t you just go on your phone while I finish up?”

“It’s on the bed,” you sigh.

Bucky leans up and meets your lips with a sweet kiss that makes you moan, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You run your fingers through his soft hair and tug; the harsh bite on your bottom lip is a reminder of what’s to come, enlightening a delicious shiver through your core.

He wraps his arm around your waist, the cold metal digging into your feverish skin, and uses his legs to push the office chair back until your phone is at arms reach.

“Here,” he starts to hand it to you, but the stretch of his neck as he grabs it is too alluring to ignore and you dive in with sloppy kisses to the exposed flesh. He grunts and shifts, a flash of searing pleasure shooting from your cunt all throughout the rest of your body; you’re too wired to stop, adding teeth among the trails your tongue leaves and slowly, ever so carefully, start grinding against him so that the curls of his hair that trails down brushes against your pulsing clit.

“Oh you wanna play like that, huh?” He tsks, but try as he might to sound stern, the waver in his voice gets you to grin and, with a much harder and clearer thrust that earns you a warning squeeze against your thigh as your phone drops back on the bed with a bounce, you lean down to whisper hotly in his ear,

“Well, do your worst, daddy.”

Tags: @scarlett-berserker, @justlovetoreadfics, @lil-baby27, @mando-vibes, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch, @im-the-music-whore, @certifiedhunter, @domino-oh-damn, @okaydacre, @lemongrove, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd, @elusive-ivory, @dizzydazed, @bluejeancntrygrl, @dadzawas-eyebags, @moonstruck-witchy @our-mrlangdon, @parody-the-emi, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird, @vikingqueen28, @tedpicklez, @blunt-cake-yes, @agoldin, @lustriix, @readsalot73, @kateb013, @eupphoriaaa, @imalovernotahater, @everything-lost-and-unsaid, @dlmafa1, @hoodedbirdie, @drunkenliterary, @fioccodineveautunnale, @fangirlfree, @mrsparknuts, @amarvelousmandalorian, @ironheart-hanako, @sando-rann, @elena-myth, @adikaofmandalore, @cahooter, @charliepeaceout, @dreamgirl-67, @phoenixhalliwell, @acrylics-and-sunshine, @sunkissed-winter

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #reader insert #drabble #requests #smut #bucky barnes smut #marvel #fanfic #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfic

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

Text

The Mandalorian Chapter 15 reactions; *nobby nobbs voice* ‘s all gone a bit percychological, sir

- so from both chapter 6 and now this: rick famuyiwa is incredible at portraying prolonged discomfort and tension (and also at getting din’s endless love for that baby across through the stress of being separated from him. this is the very first episode with no baby in it at all, isn’t it? wow that’s a heartbreaking milestone to reach im crying)

I liked this episode SO MUCH but I had to pause it pretty often and take a breather because it all made me so viscerally uncomfortable on din’s behalf -- not just the armour and having to take the helmet off and be seen for the (almost, ilu IG-11) first time in decades, people keep touching him in this episode when he clearly doesn’t want them to but can’t stop it and it makes me want to claw my own skin off in sympathy, it’s so awful. that’s really neat film making to manage to keep that tension steady almost all the way through!!!

honestly this episode felt a little bit like psychological horror, with the cheering storm troopers and din in the wrong armour and clearly not digging it and there’s the palpable absence of baby and that ever present dread of being Perceived when you’re not ready for it; everything’s turned upside down from how it should be. and it’s playing with that discomfort both in the main character and in us, the audience, in having the familiar be made unfamiliar and also introducing these questions that shake up everything (that feeling you get of ‘but... if it’s not the helmet, and not the armour, but there’s his face, but we’ve only seen that face once before so it’s still basically new to us, is this... is this still him. is this still Dad’ (oooh I wonder if we’re... sort of getting some of the ??? the baby would be feeling about it too?) we’ve all imprinted on that t-shaped visor like little baby birds, and this was a very clever episode to break us out of that and start to really get used to the thought of him having several faces that are real simultaneously, in a way, and not just a voice. it’s all very smart and interesting and I’m sure I’ll have a lot of incoherent thoughts about this in the weeks to come lol)

- the actual reason din can’t take off the helmet is that if people were able to see his wide confused puppy eyes they would no longer find it in themselves to send him on long arduous side missions and would help him immediately just so he’d feel better, and that would rob us of like 80% of the content for this show

mayfeld in this episode: clearly a casualty of this. he literally sees one glimpse of the vulnerability there and then within five seconds goes on to materialize a few redeeming character traits after being a complete jackass for an episode and a half. (I mean. he was 100% still an imperial so I’m a bit ‘hm.’ about how easily especially cara let him off the hook, but with the way it was set up I guess it would have been quite shitty of them to just throw him back in prison so I mean I GUESS. I would be endlessly grateful someone got my awkward bff out of there alive and well too I suppose)

- I actually think din’s sense/integrity of self has gotten so much stronger and more resilient (though probably still quite fragile pls handle with care precious cargo within); if this had happened in the first season I think it might honestly just have killed him (and if it weren’t for IG-11 it probably would have lol)

- can you beLIEVE din is so bad at lying that they literally should plan for contingencies over it fjkasdlhfskajdhfsdj

- very grateful for the scene with the spear throw that’s basically there to reassure us ‘uh-huh, he absolutely knows how to use it, don’t worry about that part at least’

I want to make a whole post about that fight scene, though, it’s just so GOOD! there’s so much storytelling and characterization in it! even out of the armour din has some real hand to hand MOVES!! he clearly came out of that aching all over, he can barely get back in his seat!!!

- so what I’m mainly taking away from this is that din absolutely cuts his own hair and you know what? he does a good job considering the conditions he has to work under, I love him

I still find it so goddamn darling that he meticulously maintains that little mustache/stubble combo under there even when there’s every reason to believe no one will ever see it

I suppose we can also gather that he did not ask cobb about whatever insane feat of magic he’s come up with to avoid helmet hair, but I don’t care looking a bit frazzled and tousled is exactly right for him (he’s so put together when he’s in the armour and a MESS when he’s out of it and I l o v e it)

- boba fett is honestly so fucking hot in this I don’t know what to do with myself haha. he’s so CALM and CALCULATED and COLLECTED in his newly painted armour and he’s GOT THIS and he made that ‘I’ve got one of those faces. one of jango’s many, many, many faces’ joke and he’s so thicc now, he looks like he could easily lift me over his head with one hand and he’s just quietly steady and undramatically supportive and sdalfhsdjhfsa

- ...din does know who the clone troopers were, right. I mean of course he does. he has to. but does he though. I’m sure he does and just wasn’t thinking.

- no matter how stressful it was I’m still really grateful that in the end taking the helmet off was something din got to do himself -- it’s under some duress, but it’s still his choice and for the sake of the baby, and almost in two more manageable steps between putting on the storm trooper gear for a different helmet before taking it off altogether. it’s not something done to him by gideon, for example, that would be. so much yuckier and worse. he still has that control and agency intact, even if it’s been tested really hard, and now gideon doing that doesn’t hold the exact same nightmarish power anymore because there’s already a little space opened in din’s mind for different things it can mean, if you see what I mean. I’m not sure I see what I mean actually I just have a lot of feelings haha. so I guess thank you mayfeld for being decent about it and helping him towards that realization that he can still be himself outside these really really inflexible structures he’s set up around himself for like. stability and keeping himself upright for a really long time, and that even someone halfway decent won’t disrespect the boundaries he still has about it at any given moment. man there’s a lot in this episode isn’t there

- the sigh din gave when he saw even more pirates coming and knew he had to get back up... never has a single moment in cinema better captured how I feel about being alive. most relatable man in the world din djarin

- it was really cruel of them to make me listen to din’s dead bleak voice say ‘the child is gone’ again, it wrecks my heart every goddamn time

- again... I wish carano wasn’t Like That in real life because the cara & fennec scenes should have been everything I could ever dream. ah well fennec was still wonderful and if I just allow myself to think in-universe for a few seconds it was really touching that din would entrust cara with his entire armour, that’s some prime BrOTP energy right there

I love that we got two female characters who were just allies and working together, no competition or nothin’. listen the bar is low but it’s nice to see something actually leap gracefully over it as well lol

- this was one of those with some pretty big open plot holes (why, exactly, would a scan of a completely unknown face be helpful to get into this classified system lol), but a) I don’t care, the emotional storyline was so sound it doesn’t really matter and b) eh handwave handwave let’s say mayfeld programmed that little stick with the good shit and overrode the code saying there needed to be an identity match within the system, it’s all fine

- I know I joke a lot about this but din really is one of the most relatable characters I’ve ever had. just watching him struggle with eye contact and going pretty much nonverbal under enough stress is like. wow a bit close to home there could we, perhaps, nOT?? (honestly though these are trauma/anxiety things I really don’t see portrayed a lot, especially in protagonists, it’s so odd but healing to see it in a character I love and who’s EXTREMELY competent in many other settings)

- din repeating gideon’s speech back to him word for word (except for the crucial detail that he calls grogu ‘him’ instead of ‘it’ 😭😭😭) and saying nothing else is truly Everything. I’ve said some stuff about din’s deliberate and thoughtful relationship to language in the past and this is such an amazing example of it; he’s remembered that pitch perfect all this time, he’s kept it around in his head and mulled it over and then redeployed it to change the meaning of it completely from dehumanization to love. can you. can you even imagine. and it’s yet another example of his hilarious wonderful petty streak and I can never get enough of it fasjhdfkjalhs

- din always noticing the children first and foremost Y_______Y (the kids running by is the only thing you see him sort of acknowledge when he’s walking into the covert in season 1 too)

- please... please I just need him to be able to hold that baby against his chest all safe and sound and okay again I can’t it’s........ hh

NO SEASON END CLIFF HANGER ON THIS I AM B E G G I N G YOU

- I would be having some thoughts about how much space there actually is on slave 1 and what that might mean (do not kill boba again please don’t kill him again), but honestly there’s only ‘GET BABY’ hours in here now, I can’t speculate about anything

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta #this is an episode in the 'wow that was awesome but I need to go lie down in a quiet room for a while afterwards' tradition lol

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wkemeup · 5 years

Text

In the Embers

summary: Bucky finds his burdens weigh a little less when he’s with you pairing: bucky x reader word count: 4.6k warnings: self-loathing!bucky, PTSD symptoms, talkin bout ✨S P A C E✨ a/n: this was done for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan writing challenge! I had the prompt “I’m having a bonfire. You should join me” and because im incapable of writing fluff without first prefacing it with angst, I apologize. (Also included anon’s request of playing with Bucky’s hair)

The universe simply wouldn’t let Bucky Barnes set right all the wrongs he’d committed in his life. He was certain that in every attempt he made to step closer to the light, the cold embrace of a cruel, empty darkness would shove him several paces back and down into the abyss of a never-ending pit, leaving him with no way to climb back up to the surface.

The universe would find a way to keep him alienated from those who worked so tirelessly to help him, to make sure he stayed as lost and broken as Hydra made him to be, to ensure that he never made amends for his crimes the way he so desperately needed.

He was never meant for anything more, he supposed. He was tempting fate at it was, just simply continuing to live after all he’d done.

Perhaps he should have known his first mission with the Avengers would be a colossal failure. It was supposed to be simple, something to ease him back into the field; something his stupid, mushed up brain should have been able to comprehend, but he couldn’t even do that, could he?

No. Instead, when Bucky was meant to stand guard while Natasha finished downloading the software she was assigned to extract from the Hydra warehouse, he’d been distracted. He lost his focus for only a moment; his eyes having darted over to a room on his right. No, a cell. A prison.

It looked too much like the one he’d seen in his nightmares; the one he only got bits and pieces of in his memories. He recognized the cement flooring and the metal door with bars over the impenetrable glass. He knew the faint discoloration of red along the floor in the hallway leading into the room, like a bloodied body had been dragged and thrown inside without remorse. The smell of something decaying burned in his noise and his breath felt shallow in his lungs.

He knew this wasn’t where he was held. Steve had been able to track down enough answers for him to know Hydra had never kept him in South America, but it was just so familiar. He froze up, hands sweating and heart pounding so loud he was certain someone might hear it through the coms. His breaths were too pained, too fast, and he didn’t notice the Hydra agent come up on his left and lunge at Natasha.

A knife scraped along her arm as she attempted to dodge the attack and her yelp was the only thing that shocked Bucky back to his body. He rushed in to help, but it was already too late. The Hydra agent had managed to destroy the computer before the download was finished and alerted the entire building the Avengers were present.

Red flashing lights and sirens echoed in the halls as Natasha sprinted past him. She shot him a look; something of frustration and understanding mixed in one, and Bucky clenched his jaw so tightly he was sure it would never unlock again. He chased after her, escaping the influx of dozens of Hydra agents because he knew staying to fight wasn’t an option.

The jet was quiet on the way home. Fury had called in for an update and Bucky all but slumped into his seat in an effort to disappear as Steve reported the mission had failed. Stark, who was still getting used to the idea of having Bucky around in the first place, was grumbling under his breath, staring daggers at the reformed Winter Soldier and Bucky couldn’t help but think Steve should have just come out with it and told the director that he was the one that fucked up.

Steve was too understanding, too forgiving of his old friend, and everyone on the jet knew it. It was the disappointment in Steve’s eyes that hurt more than anything else. He thought Bucky was ready for something like this, thought Bucky was stronger than he was, but he wasn’t.

He was weak, and pathetic, and set to lose it at any given second. He was a raging mess of trauma and panic attacks and nothing he did seemed to make any of it better. Steve should have known not to trust him. He could barely trust himself.

Hours after the jet landed, Bucky sat alone in the dark of the living room, clutching at his hair enough to burn in his scalp, hunched over on his knees. He didn’t know why he even bothered to leave his room after the team returned, but the walls were just so white, his lack of belongings so evident, it left a kind of emptiness hanging in the air mirrored to that in his chest.

The whole team was elsewhere, no one around to witness his unbridled self-loathing and poor attempts to pull himself together. Steve and Stark were still holed up in meetings and attempting to explain why the team would need additional resources to run the mission again to extremely disgruntled higher ups in the Pentagon. Natasha and Sam were sparring down in the gym, getting out their frustration and testing the limits of their aching muscles. Clint was off at the farm with his family, where the guy belonged. Thor was still out in space doing who knows what.

And Bucky?

Bucky was alone.

Until, he heard the soft patter of footsteps sneaking down the hall, a light humming through the air that sent a shiver down his spine, just enough to lift his hands from his head and peak over the edge of the couch.

You whizzed around the kitchen, headphones in and swaying your hips along to a song Bucky could only vaguely hear; something with a light, melodic beat and lyrics you clearly didn’t know the words to. Smile on your face and wrapped up in dark black leggings, a sweatshirt that looked to be about twice your size, fuzzy slippers and a worn scarf, you gathered items from the pantry and set them on the countertop.

Bucky watched, not noticing that his anxiety had started to go down as you filtered through old cereal boxes and dug out a box of graham crackers from the back of the shelf and tossed a bag of marshmallows onto the counter. You dug into the plastic bag and popped one of the white clouds into your mouth with a content sigh, almost a moan, and Bucky found his lips curve just a little. Certainly not enough for anyone to notice, but enough that muscles were used that hadn’t been in a while.

Next, you snuck a block of a chocolate bar from the top shelf Bucky was almost positive belonged to Sam. As you turned back to the counter, gathering everything up in your hands, you froze, eyes falling on Bucky and a breath hitched in his lungs.

You slowly removed your headphones, raising an eyebrow as a smile easily pushed on your cheeks.

“Whatcha doin’ sitting in the dark like that?” you asked, voice sweet as ever and Bucky swore his face must have been beet red from the rush of heat in his cheeks.

He swallowed nervously, hands raking through his hair to tame the mess he’d created as he nearly ripped it out just moments earlier. He stood, slowly, and realizing his legs were a little numb from how long he’d been sitting there.

“Nothing,” he replied, straightening out the wrinkles on his pants. He looked down and realized he was still wearing his stealth suit. You must have noticed too because you started to laugh a little. It made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots.

He turned to leave, needed to get out before he made an even bigger fool of himself. You were the last person he wanted to know that he was as broken and damaged as the rest of them thought.

“Well, if you’re not doing anything,” you called after him, unbothered as Bucky tried to escape the room, a mischievous smile on your face as you gathered up your snacks. “I’m having a bonfire. You should join me.”

Bucky froze in his tracks, a careful look over his shoulder. “What?”

You nodded, walking closer to him. “I mean, you should change first. Can’t imagine Kevlar and thigh holsters will be very comfortable out there. Dress warm, alright?”

You turned to walk away, just assuming he’d come because you always did think the best of him, despite having absolutely no reason to. Bucky watched as you practically skipped down the rest of the hall, waiting impatiently by the elevator, and you sent him a beaming smile before you stepped inside. If Bucky didn’t know better, he might have thought he was dreaming.

He’d only been living at the compound for a few months now since his pardon and he’d largely kept to himself. He'd take long runs outside alone and eat most of his meals in his room. Never one to initiate interaction, though he agreed to spar with Steve and Sam on occasions. Throwing fists was easier than talking. Talking was how his demons seemed to fall out. He’d say the wrong thing or remind Steve that he wasn’t who he used to be and he’d just get those sad, disappointed eyes again.

Steve never meant to make him feel so unwanted. He knew that, but Steve longed for Bucky as he was before the war, forgetting that pieces of him were still right here; damaged and broken, but still here.

Things were different with you. You never once asked him to be anything he wasn’t. You never stepped around eggshells or treated him like he was something to be feared. You never left the room as soon as he’d walk in and often purposefully went out of your way to ask him what he was doing that day or to include him in whatever pop culture argument you were having with Sam, even though Bucky couldn’t begin to follow what you were talking about. You’d invite him to every movie night, no matter how often he declined. You encouraged him to come to the publicity events and promised to make fun of Sam the whole time if he came.

Try as you did, you never could get Bucky to open up.

Except for tonight, it seemed.

He appreciated your gesture more than he admitted; out loud and to himself. He did start to notice the way his stomach hurt when you’d be a day overdue on your check-in’s while on missions overseas and how he often glanced over to your spot on the couch when you weren’t around. He noticed that his heart skipped a little when you’d touch his shoulder as you walked by and how your smile seemed to always make him blush.

He put too many rules on himself; so easily giving into the voice that reminded him that he deserved to be alone and isolated and without someone as kind and forgiving as you. He wondered, if maybe he told that voice to shove it, if he could find an ounce of something other than self-deprecation tonight. Any time spent with you would be better than his original plan of allowing his guilt to swallow him whole.

Bucky was already changing out of his suit before he realized it; throwing on an old SHEILD crewneck from Steve and a pair of sweatpants he stole from the training center. The cold didn’t bother him much, but you’d been so sweet all wrapped up in your sweats, it made Bucky want to try for something normal.

You made Bucky want to be normal.

It was how he found himself standing at the edge of the compound, looking out into the dark field to the soft flicker of a fire. You sat curled up on a blanket, smiling and proud of your work. You didn’t notice him just yet and Bucky decided he liked the way you smiled to yourself when you thought no one was watching.

He started to make his way over to you and you nearly jumped as he approached, hand clutching at your chest to still your heart and you started to laugh.

“Bucky! You scared me!” you grinned, making room for him on the blanket and patting the surface next to you for him to sit down. He did so, amazed that the feel of your thigh against his didn’t scare him away. If anything, it made him want more.

“You’re surprised I came?” he asked softly, a semblance of a smile on his lips.

“Of course, I’m surprised, Bucky! You never come to anything I ask you to,” you replied and Bucky frowned, a twinge of guilt in his chest, but your smile was too bright for it to stay long as you continued, “but I’m really glad you did. Now I can give you partial blame for stealing Sam’s chocolate.”

A laugh escaped him before he could suppress it. It felt odd in his chest, but warm, welcoming maybe. “I see your true motives at work here.”

You shrugged, sending him that teasing grin that made his stomach twist, and you plopped a marshmallow on a metal stick and handed it over to him before doing another for yourself.

“You know how to make s’mores, right?” you asked, almost nervously, as Bucky eyes the marshmallow.

“Of course, doll, I wasn’t born in the stone age,” Bucky teased, surprised by his own voice.

“Just before sliced bread,” you shot back, grinning wildly and nudging at his shoulder. You didn’t seem to be affected at all that it was metal you touched, hard and cold beneath the surface of his sweatshirt. Bucky couldn’t help but smile.

***

Ten minutes later and Bucky had already consumed two whole s’mores before you got the perfect toast on a single marshmallow. You berated him for not caring about the ‘art’ of the s’more and that he under toasted or set them ablaze just to eat it sooner. He agreed and you shoved him playfully in the side.

“So where is everyone?” he asked, wiping the marshmallow from his lips, as you lit your third marshmallow on fire with an aggravated huff.

You stuck a new marshmallow on the end of your skewer and held it with careful precision over the flame. It was adorable, the way you squinted at the flames, determination over your features. After a moment, as you felt content with the ratio of flame to heat, you shrugged, answering his question, “right here”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Were you just going to do this by yourself if you didn’t see me in the living room?”

“Sometimes it’s nice to just get away for a while, have some place to think and just be,” you replied softly. “Besides, I like looking at the stars. It makes me feel small.”

If Bucky thought he had a decent read on you before, he was certainly at a loss now. “You like feeling small in the universe?”

“It reminds me that there are things out there that are bigger than myself,” you said, turning the marshmallow over the flame, a pleased smile on your face as the underside was toasted to the color you were looking for. “It reminds me that the little things I used spend days agonizing over only have power if I give it to them.”

The confusion must have read on Bucky’s face because you smiled at him, readjusting in your seat.

“We’re like these little blips,” you explained, pulling your marshmallow away from the flames, “and we only have this impossibly small amount of time here with so much before us and an eternity after we’re gone, and... I don’t know... I guess that makes me remember how important every moment is. I don’t want to spend my time here suffering, you know? I want to enjoy it. I want to do good with it and make it matter.”

Bucky nodded, looking up at the stars as you started to make your first s’more. The patterns of constellations were so clear outside of the city, imperfect patterns and arrays of tiny shiny specs in the sky, stretching out into the vast universe. Each one was a sun to its own solar system, each one surrounded by planets with potential life, and there were billions more than he could take in with his own eyes from this very small corner of a single world.

He knew what you meant about feeling small, though, he wasn’t quite sure how to get to the part about being thankful for his time here. If anything, if felt like his mark has been nothing but pain and violence and destruction. He should be sentenced to spend his time here agonizing over it, shouldn’t he?

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, noticing the contemplation on his face as you finally took a bite of your s’more and marshmallow oozed out the side. You groaned, eyes rolling back before you could catch yourself, and you giggled with full cheeks.

Bucky smiled at that. He might have forgotten entirely if he could just watch you do that again. “Nothing.”

“A face like that isn’t thinking about just nothing,” you retorted teasingly, shoving the rest of the sandwich into your mouth with a satisfied grin.

You had a bit of chocolate on the corner of your lips and Bucky’s hand reached out to brush it away without thinking. Your cheeks were warm from the fire, lips sticky from the marshmallows and the chocolate brushed off easily onto his thumb. He let his hand fall away and wiped it on the grass. He didn’t notice the way you watched him with a kind of awe that would have set his heart on fire.

“Come here,” you urged, pushing your legs out to lie flat on the blanket and gesturing to your lap. Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused, and you tugged on his shoulders, motioning for him to lay down.

Bucky didn’t quite know what to do, but he knew he’d do just about anything you asked, so he laid down along the blanket with his back pressed against the earth, his head resting on the soft cushion of your thigh.

“Look at the stars. They’re never ending. They go on for infinity and carry worlds of possibility. They’re limitless. Let them take some of your pain, Bucky,” you told him gently, leaning back to rest one hand against the grass as another gently wove into his scalp.

He flinched at first, surprised by the sudden action, but found himself soon melting against the movements as it sent waves of shivers through his head and down his spine.

He did as you instructed, trying to find purpose in the stars, focusing on the gentle lull of your fingers tracing patterns in his hair. He only saw what he could; something beautiful, something vast and endless, but nothing that could take any the guilt he carried.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever find a way to let go of that. It was engrained in him. It was a part of him. The things he did were unforgivable, irredeemable, and it was all consuming. It weighed on him unlike anything else and pushed him so far beneath the surface, his lungs were filled with dirt.

After a while, Bucky’s eyes started to drift, losing focus on the stars you so endearingly found hope in, letting himself fall into the soft embrace of your nails as they wove patterns on his scalp, drawing a calm about him he hadn’t known in years.

“I heard about the mission,” you said quietly, suddenly, like you’d been thinking about it for a while, and Bucky stiffened instantly under your touch, his heart skipping several beats, but your fingers continued to rake gently against his scalp, drawing him back to a sense of calm. “It’s not your fault, you know. They never should have sent you to a Hydra facility on your first mission in the field.”

There was a hint of anger in your voice, like you’d had this conversation before, like maybe you’d argued with someone about it, tried to stop it from happening and no one had listened. Bucky’s stomach started to hurt, thinking that maybe even you, who thought so highly of him, didn’t think he was good enough to be an Avenger.

“There were too many reminders there, you know?” you said, continuing as you looked up at the stars. “I kept thinking they should have sent you to Bratislava with me; ease you into the field by breaking up trafficking rings first and maybe stop a few drug shipments, not by sending you right back to the people who hurt you for so long. I don’t know what they were thinking.”

That surprised him. You wanted to work with him? He knew you didn’t usually take part in Hydra missions after your father had been exposed as one of the double agents in the attack on D.C. There were enough agents with vendettas against Hydra to take on the cause and you were plenty happy to take down bad guys without worldwide organizational skills.

“We’d make a good team, don’t you think?”

Bucky realized then that he wasn’t watching the stars anymore, he was watching you. The flicker of the fire illuminated your skin in soft waves of reds and yellows, warm flush in your cheeks. You glanced down at him, fingers still gently carding through his hair, and he wondered if he’d ever seen a more beautiful smile in his life.

“Yeah, think so,” he replied. He never wanted to raid a Hydra base again if he could spend more time with you like this.

You smiled at him, proud, before you looked back up at the stars. “You’re more than just a culmination of your actions, Bucky. I know you feel like the things you did under Hydra’s control have turned the universe against you and that you’ll never be able to make up for all of it, but you don’t have to save people from burning buildings and throw yourself straight into your trauma to prove you’re good, Buck.”

Bucky sat up slowly, letting your hand fall away from his hair and trace down the side his left arm until it rested delicately on his hand; the metal warm to the touch as it absorbed the heat of the flame. You turned to him, smiling sweetly, though your eyes were sad.

“The small moments count, too,” you said.

“I thought you said the universe took away the small things, that they didn’t matter?” he replied, confused, but you shook your head.

“Only the bad things, Buck; the things that cause you pain.”

“That’s convenient,” he teased, enjoying the way your nose scrunched up in feigned frustration.

“You forget that small moments of good can change someone’s entire day. They can make a world of difference,” you countered, your free hand reaching up to cup the side of his face. He shivered under your touch though he didn’t dare pull away. “The first day I saw you smile is a pretty good example of that, actually.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at that, surprised.

“I had just gotten into a fight with Fury over the mission he was trying to send me on, one I didn’t believe was the right call, and I was about to go hit a punching bag for hours until my knuckles bled,” you explained, thumb brushing gently along his cheekbone, “but then I saw you sitting in the kitchen with Steve. I don’t even know what you were talking about but Sam had dropped the entirety of his lunch plate on the floor and you just... you smiled. It was wide enough to see the dimples in your cheeks and the wrinkles by your eyes, and I forgot why I was so angry to begin with.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He shook his head. “I never knew you were there...”

“I could list dozens of other moments like that Bucky,” you said softly, “and they all add up. Like the days you’d leave out an extra cup of coffee for me on Wednesdays because you figured out I only drink it before my mandatory board meetings and how you always pick up the empty dishes of those sitting around you when you go to clean your own or when you offer to help new recruits struggling with their hand-to-hand in the training gym. Please don’t disregard those moments. They matter. If anything, they matter more because they’re small. These tiny little moments that make the smallest differences and create a chain effect of something... good.”

How long have you been picking up on things like that?

Did you also know that it was him that always made sure your stockpile of microwave popcorn was full or that he took Natasha’s shift training rookies once a week so the two of you could spend more time together, because he hated seeing you so disappointed each time your schedules clashed. Did you know that his heart eased a little when you walked in the room and the soft hum of your voice made his stomach twist in knots?

“Do you think I’m crazy?” you asked quietly, studying him for a reaction as he got lost in his own thoughts.

“No! No, of course not,” Bucky said, shaking his head, and reaching up for your wrist as you stared to pull your hand away from his face nervously. “I never considered that before, is all. I think I’ll have a lot of small moments to go before I can make up for all I’ve done.”

He said it in a teasing way, but you frowned.

“Not to me,” you said quietly, almost in a whisper. “You’re overflowing with good, Bucky, and I swear, I’m reminded of that every time I get to see you smile.”

Bucky paused, his heart aching and swelling with every word you say. He pulled your hand into his lap, holding it gently. “So, not very often then?”

You grinned, letting out a laugh, and it brought a smile to his face. “No, not very often, but it’s nice to see it now.”

“Might have to start smiling more, I guess,” he replied, a hitch in his breath as you leaned into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. You started to shove him down to the grass and he let out a heart-filled laugh, letting you lay down beside him along the blanket, head resting on his shoulder, arm draped over his chest.

“Can we just stay here a little longer?” you asked, glancing up at him and he swore he’d never say no to you again. He’d let you take him anywhere you wanted; to movie nights, to extravagant galas, to the ends of the Earth.

“As long as you want, doll,” he sighed, reveling in the warmth of the fire and the press of your body against his.

He’d stare at the stars for an eternity with you.

*insert that meme of Jenny Slate screaming about space*

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes x female reader #ldatfwc

2K notes · View notes

tsukidrama · 3 years

Note

i’m glad you could have your weekend off! i hope you had some rest :)

i’m really happy we agree so much on yelena! but also thank you for making me discover her more it’s been really interesting to talk about her!

same for zeke, season 4 managed to make me forget about what he did to erwin but it still happened and i never thought i’d cry for a man until he died. i was very sad but also kinda mad for feeling so devastated about a man lmao.

i’ve seen more lara tybur works lately, even a nsfw alphabet and honestly she DESERVES, if you ever write for her again i’ll gladly read it!!

i (re)read some of your annie fics today and she really is one of the best aot characters, i can’t believe i didn’t care about her at first. i thought she was so cold (partly because of the dub version of my country) and before knowing more about her and how marley works i really was mad at her for killing all these people but context is very important in her story. anyways i read your post rumbling headcanons and it’s so SOFT, annie really deserves it after everything she had to go through, especially since she thought she was gonna die at a really young age, she can fully enjoy her life now. i am also a big supporter of lesbian annie, i don’t like her with men and annie x armin makes me uncomfortable for some reason, people ship it because armin kept visiting her when she was in her crystal but it was him being obsessed while she couldn’t do anything and i don’t really see how it’s supposed to be romantic? so yeah i really don’t like that ship but if i have to be honest i don’t really like either of armin, eren or mikasa. all the side characters are so great and so interesting that the main ones can seem boring at times.

i’ve also read the great hair massacre of 857 and please it was so sweet and funny!! the whole conversation was already funny but then “There you go saying that gay shit again…” actually made me laugh out loud askljldfijdf. the dialogue in this fic was really great, it seemed so natural!! i really love seeing that side of annie, thank you for blessing us with that content! she was so in character too, the reference to her relationship with her dad was subtle but very welcomed, her tearing up after saying “i left” made my heart clench, her relationship with her father is very complex and you wrote it well!

after reading i got curious and wanted to see annie with actual bangs (apart from that flashback we got in season 4) and i couldn’t find anything, i really wish i could draw rn. oh and both the headcanons and the fic being in canon made me so happy too!! i know i’ve already said it but it’s so rare reading aot stuff in canon i really cherish canon fics when i find them! (that being said, I absolutely love your AUs, i guess i’m just a big fan of your writing!!)

annie kinda feels underrated sometimes which is weird because she seems present in a lot of fics and fanart but she doesn’t seem to have that many fans? especially compared to some others. she 100% deserves more love.

-j

you're so sweet 🥺 thank you. i've been a bit sick lately (chronic illness so nothing out of the ordinary unfortunately) so i'm definitely getting lots of rest!

of course! like i said it is ALWAYS my pleasure to spread the love for yelena. i told you i could make you like her 👀 i didn't even mean to get into her as much as i have but she's so interesting and hot. i'm glad you leaded up liking her!

I WILL NEVER FORGET AND I WILL NEVER FORGIVE! i cry about Erwin on a regular basis. i've always felt really strongly about his character and i feel his loss all the time in the final arcs of the story, every time hanji and levi are without him 💔 if there's any man worth making an exception for it's Erwin, that man chugs his respect women juice.

oh fuck yeah! good, it definitely is what she deserves. now i'm gonna go scour the lara tybur tag...

pppffft i was in the opposite situation - i loved her before i knew shit about her character and then felt like a traitor when i pieced together who she was and what she had done.... not sure when you got into snk but i watched season 1 the year it came out and kept up with it so i've really felt every cliffhanger in my bones. i started reading the manga after season 2 aired. my point is that i loved her through Annie all along with her flaws from the beginning, and i've never thought she was "good" per se but it's also obvious that she's affected by what she's done. i always figured there was more to her story than we knew; her reactions, the way she cries over the dead, and the fact that she gives up on her mission that's literally her purpose in life all indicate remorse beyond just regretting being caught. even way back in the day i was like: SHE DOES NOT WANT TO BE DOING THIS!! IM TELLING YOU! my brother would constantly be telling me to shut up slksajdfkj but in the end i was right! i just didn't realize that pretty much ALL of the warriors didn't want to be doing what they did, or how complex it all was. she really does deserve a peaceful life being able to do what she wants. i used to cry about her having to die at age 24 a lot, so the ending taking away the titan curse is just about the only part of the ending i vibe with.

yep, same. i absolutely despise that ship-that-must-not-be-named, in my opinion it's a disgrace for both of their characters, but especially hers. it's really creepy, i agree. i don't blame Annie, being in a crystal with only annoying ass people talking to you for 4 years just left her a little confused. armin is gay anyway, i literally just block ppl who post about the ship. i love Mikasa but the other two i agree are pretty crap characters overall.

heheh well there are the manga caps from 139 but it'll be a while before we have her bangs animated. i'm actually so proud of how the great hair massacre turned out, it was such a sweet and goofy story that shows the lighter part of Annie's personality. eee thank you as always and i'm especially happy you mentioned the dialogue! and how it felt natural, that's such a reassuring compliment ❤ and for the bit about her dad. i feel like i'm the only person who likes him alkjdfalksjd i know he's an asshole and he messed up bad but he does really care about Annie and he's important to her therefore her is important to me. can u tell that i have parents-in-law?

i agree! a lot of people seem to either have the attitude of "o yea she's pretty cool i guess" or the full on EVIL MALICIOUS BITCH!! SHE KILLED LEVI SQUAD REMEMBER THE YOYO! i will eternally point out the hypocrisy - Reiner and Zeke do just as bad and worse as she does but the fandom doesn't hate on them. whatever, i'm happy in my bubble over here!

#one time i got hate from an a/ru/an/i shipper telling me to go fuck myself with my faggot fantasies or something like that #and i was like hmm sounds nice will do. and tbh it is i highly recommend coming over here and joining me #j anon #tsuki answers #annie-isms #long post

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sarah-writes-marvel · 4 years

Text

Imposter: Avengers x gn!Reader (1/2)

S.S: I have alot of fics stashed away so Im just gonna kinda post all of them within the next few days. I know not many people have come across my acount so.... Anyways feel free to message me. Ill try and figure out how to make a masterlist so if people actually like my stories theyll be able to find them easier..

Warnings: None, a little itty bit of angst i guess

Word Count: ~1270

MASTERLIST Pt 2

==============================================

Brooke Huntington.The newest member to the Avengers. Has the ability to read minds and is an empath. Easy on the eyes, kind to anyone and everyone and yet she gave off an untrustworthy vibe.

She had been a SHIELD agent for the last 4 years before she finally revealed her “secret” in which Fury decided to put her on the team since Wanda was absent. Obviously the guys all feel head over heels for her. It took Nat a week until she trusted her.

Her powers worked through touch, so if she had brushed past someone, noticeably making contact, she’d collapse into emotional shock. Though, being the trained mercenary you are, you noticed the micro-touches that no one else did. Nothing ever happened when her shoulder brushed against someone else's or her finger grazed over someone’s knuckles.

Whenever she collapsed it was usually in front of a few of the men on the team, sometimes with Nat present, but always in front of the guys. You would watch her actions and she would purposefully place her hand closer to the hand of Bucky or Tony, and their fingers would brush over hers and she would collapse causing a frenzy amongst the team. But whenever it was just you and Nat around she would practically hug herself to avoid contact.

The team never listened to your reasonings that she was lying through her teeth, which in turn made you the outcast of the team. But you’d rather be the outcast than be fooled with her lies. It honestly made you sick to your stomach to see the guys coddle her every need, even Nat clung to her which she never did.

On her first day, Brooke had made the mistake to reach her hand out to you as she introduced herself,immediately retracting it and tried to cover her mistake with a lame excuse. Ever since then you've barely shared more than 20 words. She avoided you and you continued to observe her, picking up every micro-movement she made.

=============================================================

“Come on Y/K/N, Brooke’s making breakfast. She makes godly pancakes.” Steve gushed as he stopped at your door on his way to the kitchen. You could see Bucky and Sam behind him fighting about who she’d rather go on a date with.

“I’ll pass. I don't like pancakes.” you said returning to the open book on your lap.

“Whatever you love pancakes! We always had them after hard missions. You made them!” Steve exclaimed.

“Ya well, I don’t like them anymore,” you replied blatantly.

“What’s up with you kid? You’ve been acting off ever since Brooke joined the team.” Sam pointed out, pausing the battle of attraction with Bucky.

“Ya, we haven’t really seen you since she moved in,” Bucky added.

“Weird,” you said, emotionless, trying to get past the paragraph you've been stuck on since they arrived at my door.

“Come on. Come have breakfast.” Steve pleaded.

“I’d like to keep my appetite, and I know that if i join y’all downstairs it's gonna be you guys gushing about how good of a cook she is or whatever.” you said, finally turning the trio standing in my doorway.

“Are you jealous, doll?” Bucky mocked. You rolled your eyes at his accusation.

“Get out. Go eat breakfast. I’ll think about coming down.” you told them.

“She’s definitely jealous,” Sam whispered, loud enough for you to hear. You pulled a knife from your side table throwing it at the three, embedding it in the doorframe.

“Get out,” you said again sternly as they looked almost terrified.

The three of them practically ran down the hallway, leaving you to yourself once again. The silence of your room was broken by the hungry grumble from your stomach.

“Ugh.” you groan. “Fine. I’ll go get breakfast but I’m not eating her damn pancakes.” You marked my page and walked to the kitchen.

You gagged at the site once entering. Everyone was cooed and gushing over how Brooke flipped the pancakes, perfectly cooked on each side. You rolled your eyes and moved behind the group to the pantry.

“Hey Y/K/M, want some pancakes?” Brooke asked in her sticky sweet voice.

“It’s Y/N and no thanks. I don’t like pancakes. They’re too sweet for my taste.” you replied coldly as you opened the pantry and pulled out a pop tart, eliciting a whine from Thor.

“Oh, uhm ok.” she stuttered.

You earned a few hard looks from the team as you bit into the brown sugar and cinnamon pop tart.

“What recipe did you use for the pancakes?” you asked, ignoring the glares.

“Oh, I wrote it out on a piece of paper before moving in. It was my grandmother's recipe.” She said holding up a familiar piece of paper. It was your recipe.

“Hmm weird. Cause that’s my handwriting.” you said taking the sheet from the counter.

“Oh I guess I grabbed the wrong paper.” her face flushed in embarrassment.

“Ya whatever. If you need me, which it appears you don't, I'll be in my room. If I’m not there then don’t bother trying to find me.” you stated leaving the room, tossing the other untouched pop tart at Thor.

As soon as you left the kitchen, the hushed whispers reached your ears.

“What’s up with her?”

“I don’t know, she’ll come around eventually.”

“She's just a little jealous. Nothing to be worried about.”

You groaned and walked to your bedroom, changing into gym clothes and going to the gym to let off some steam.

An hour or so later of beating a poor punching bag, the door creaked open breaking your concentration.

“What part of don’t bother me don’t people get,” you grumbled turning to see Brooke in the doorway.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She said, her chocolate brown eyes widening like she was doing puppy dog eyes.

“What do you need?” you asked coldly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I just thought we could talk. Get to know each other a bit?” She offered, stepping closer to you and her voice was an octave higher than usual.

“No thanks, I like keeping to myself. Go find someone else to butter up sweetheart.” you pushed past her towards the towel rack, brushing against her shoulder. You heard her huff in frustration.

“What do you have against me?” she pouted her voice back to normal.

“Me? Having something against you? Never?” you turn to see her face in a scowl and her stance mimicking yours only a moment ago.

“Whatever, you haven’t talked to me since I came here, or even looked my way,” she argued.

“You're the one who has avoided any contact because you know you messed up the first day we met. I have my reasons to keep a distance.” you retorted.

“Whatever. I haven't avoided you.” She scoffed “You've been avoiding me because you're too scared. You're jealous that I’m better than you, aren’t you?”

“No, I don't trust you.” you said closing the distance between the two of you. “I find it odd that a Shield Agent of 4 years just came forward about having ‘powers’ and was immediately admitted to the Avengers. And right after Wanda left.” your voice was menacing.

“I- I don't. What are you talking about?” she stuttered backing away from me, her face flushed red.

“You may have everybody else fooled but I can see through you little act.You’re not that good of an actress. I know a liar when I see one.” you spit, spinning on your heels and leaving the gym.

================================================

S.S: Let me know what you thought! Pt 2 is linked at the top next to my masterlist!

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sotheywrotestories · 4 years

Text

Disease

This fic is NOT related to Covid-19 or self isolation

Request: Lokixreader, reader is sick or injured from a mission. @dreams-of-feysand

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Sickness, quarantine (not Covid related), language

Word Count: 1,599 words (she thicc)

This fic was started before the Covid-19 outbreak and is in no way related to current events. If such events are too triggering or make you uncomfortable, please scroll ahead. Any sickness related material will be placed under a cut.

Take care of yourself and check up on your friends, love you all

***

(Y/N) was careful about missions. Always. And if she wasn’t, Loki was. He watched her back when he knew he should really be worrying about himself, but he couldn’t help it, she was so fragile, in his mind, he never wanted anything to happen to her.

But he would never let anyone know what his true feelings to her were. He treated her as though she was just another Midgardian scum and that he was far above her in every way possible.

He knew he could get away with treating her like shit at the compound because that’s how he treated everyone and if he treated her even slightly differently, people would question him. It’s just easier to treat her the same as everyone else.

On the field was different. He looked like he was just concerned about her well being because she is his teammate, it doesn’t look like it has anything to do with his real, true, and raw feelings for her.

He never expected a large enemy inside the compound. Not even a physical enemy. He’s beyond prepared to fight any intruder that dared to threaten the well being of anyone in the compound, especially (Y/N).

He was not, however, prepared when the entire wing (Y/N)’s room was tucked into was put under quarantine. It happened in the night.

Loki vaguely remembered hearing loud noises late at night, but it being a hallway away, he didn’t have a care. It was the next morning, when the hallway had a plastic tarp over it, a giant yellow biohazard warning on the zip door.

“What…,” Loki pointed half-heartedly at the impromptu wall.

“(Y/N) contracted some weird disease on the last mission, we had to put her under quarantine,” Tony sipped on his coffee. “We don’t know how it’s transmitted so we’re taking every precaution.”

“Is she okay?” Loki asks.

“It just looks like a common cold right now, but none of her tests are coming back with anything we know,” Bruce said. “We are just treating it like a common cold, but I suppose we’ll see as time goes on.”

“Well,” Loki swallowed the lump in his throat. “She was foolish enough to get sick.”

***

Loki wasn’t concerned about catching this mystery disease. He’s a god. Certainly, some disease a Midgardian had couldn’t do anything.

He was worried about (Y/N) not doing well because of the disease. It slightly scared him that she had to be placed behind a sheet of plastic just because Tony and Bruce didn’t know what it was she had come down with.

But if it was just an alien cold? Even if it was just a cold would her mortal body be able to handle it?

So Loki poured himself into looking up every illness there was across the nine realms. Her symptoms developed rapidly from a runny nose to a headache and a stomach ache in between. Which helped Loki all of none, being since early every sickness had the same symptoms as any Midgardian cold.

“Brother,” Thor boomed. “I have returned from Asgard with the books you requested. I do not, however, understand your need for these books, they appear only be about sickness.”

“Yes, you buffoon, I’m being useful for once and seeing if I can try and figure out what illness plagues Lady (Y/N),” Loki snarled.

“She is the one you love,” Thor nodded.

“Excuse me?” Loki snapped his head up. “What did you say?”

“Oh, come now, Loki,” Thor tossed his hand to the side. “Anyone with two eyes can see how infatuated you are with Lady (Y/N).”

“…they can?” Loki paled.   Thor laughed, slapping a hand on Loki’s shoulder and leaving the library.

“You are not nearly as subtle as you think you are.”

***

“I wish to see (Y/N),” Loki said, standing at the zipper door of the plastic hallway.

“No can do, reindeer games. She’s sick we can’t risk exposure,” Tony said absentmindedly.

“I cannot get sick.”  “It’s not about you, Loki,” Bruce peered over his glasses. “It’s about whatever it is living on you and then finding its way out here.”

“I think I know what it is,” Loki finally turned to the science pair, glancing at Natasha tucked in the corner. “If I can be in the room with her, I can get a more accurate reading and perhaps rid her of this disease.”

Natasha laughed and sat a little straighter in her padded chair.

“Well, she doesn’t want to see you,” Natasha said. “She doesn’t want anyone to see her as sick as she is.”

“It bothers me not.”

Bruce sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Well, okay. If you’re so confident. But we’ll have to hose you down after and you’ll have to take every precaution.”

***

Loki waddled his way into (Y/N)’s room in a big, yellow hazmat suit.

“I’m here to help,” he smiled slightly.

“Lokes,” (Y/N) smiled, her eyes tired. “What’re you doing here.”

“I just said, I’m here to help.”

Loki maneuvered a chair to sit next to her bed and awkwardly sat in the giant plastic bag.

“I don’t think you can help with this one.”

And the look of her did deter Loki just a bit. Her hair was a little less vibrant and her eyes dulled to what they used to be. And she looked weak. Like her body was fighting something she just couldn’t handle.

“It’s alien.”

“Yes.”

Loki nodded. “You know this.”

“I know that we don’t know what it is, so ergo, yes, I know it’s alien.”

They were silent.

“What if I used magic to fix it,” Loki suggested.

“We cannot use your magic as a catch-all for every problem we face.”

“What if this problem can only be solved with magic?”

(Y/N) squinted at Loki.

“How much research have you put into this, Loki?” (Y/N) asked.

“Enough to know that there is no solution here on Midgard, or, if we ever found one it would be far past hat your body could handle.”

(Y/N) heaved a sigh and lied back in her bed. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“I don’t want to have to depend on your magic to get better.”

Loki bit his lip, debating whether or not this was the right time to confess his true feelings for the girl.

“(Y/N),” he cleared his throat. She turned her head. “I care far too much for you for you to deny what I can do to help you get over this mystery sickness.”

(Y/N) met his gaze one more time.

“Loki I need you to be so sure of this that I’m not going to get hurt, that no one else can possibly get sick from whatever it is you plan on doing.”

Loki nodded. “I can promise, (Y/N). Whether or not Ic are about the rest of the team, I would never do anything to endanger anyone you care about.”

***

Tony and Bruce joined the pair in their own hazmat suits, insisting they be present when Loki did whatever it was he thought could help (Y/N) get better.

“So what’s the plan here,” Tony plopped into a plastic chair.

“The plan,” Loki rolled his eyes, “is to use Seidr to move the virus from her body.”

“Where will it go?” Banner took notes on is StarkPad.

“Where would it be safest for it to go? Where can you send it, Lokes?” (Y/N) rasped from the bed.

“I can send it back to the planet it came from.”

“Do that,” Tony waved his hand, clearly done with the conversation that he started.

Loki nodded and looked back down at (Y/N), making sure she was ready for whatever it was he was about to do. He carefully removed the gloves from the suit and looked into her eyes.

“I believe in you, Lokes,” she sighed.

Oh, good, Loki thought. So if I mess up, that’s that, then.

Loki carefully grabbed her hands and focused his Seidr into taking all foreign substances from her body and sending them back to where they came from originally.

“You’re sure you don’t want any of this? For study?” He asked, his own eyes closing.

“No, we have what we need, we don’t want more of this around than necessary.”

It was a process all of fifteen minutes. By the end of it, (Y/N) already looked five times better.

“I feel so much better,” her body melted into the bed.

“You look better, Kid,” Tony stood up, smiling.

“All vitals are at a stable place.,” Bruce reported. “She’s virtually recovered.”

“Oh, good,” Loki ripped the mask off his suit, already tired of being confined to one bubble of plastic. “Now, you will feel like you just have a cold, so.”

Loki materialized a bowl of soup and a packet of tissues.

“I’m gonna leave, now,” Tony said, ripped the plastic off the walls. “You two…do what you do…Bruce? Wanna…get out of here.”

Bruce nodded, still tapping away at his pad and making casual observations.

“Soup?” (Y/N) laughed, her cheeks feeling hot.

“Is that not right?” Loki tore the rest of his suit off. “Wanda told me it can make mortals feel better.”

“Yeah, I mean, definitely just…wasn’t expecting you…to bring this, I guess.”

“I already told you, silly girl,” Loki rolled his eyes. “I care about you far more than I let on.”

"Well, (Y/N) took a slurp of soup. “I care about you, too.”

Though the sickness was scary, Loki couldn’t be more thankful for an opportunity to baby the one Midgardian he could more than tolerate.

Tags:

Permanent:

@im-not-an-egirl-im-baby @ima-fucking-nerd @embrace-themagic @fireboltrose5737@whatdafricklefrackle@peeterparkr @sherlokiantheatrenerd @legit-fandom-trash @abitchformarvel @dark-night-sky-99 @dreams-of-feysand

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #marvel x reader #covid-19 #covid #just in case #coronavirus

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harrywritingsbyme · 5 years

Text

Mixing business with Pleasure

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy. long and smutty.

Based off of this ask.

When you and harry met for the first time, and as cliche as it sounds, you both felt felt an instant connection. The both of you met a couple weeks after he signed his record deal and ever since that day, you guys were pretty much inseparable. You were one of the many people that made up as some would like to call it “The Harry Styles Dream Team”. You pretty much tracked and analyzed his music sales and streaming. Whether it be his song on some commercial or show to album sales, you kept track of all of it. You really enjoyed working with harry and the rest of the team; but more so harry than the others. He never failed to make your job more enjoyable when he came through headquarters. Whenever he was there, he made it his personal mission to stop by your office and sit with you even when you weren’t in the meetings. When you noticed he was always coming to see you whenever he was there, you started to pay a little extra attention to the shared team calendar. Whenever you saw that there were team meetings, you made sure to put a little more effort into your chosen outfit for the day; even if you weren’t required to be there. You just made sure you looked your best, you know, just in case he dropped past your office. Harry even started to spend a little more time in the mirror when he knew he had a meeting at Columbia. Instead of changing his t-shirt before he headed out, he changed his entire outfit before heading out to the routine check-in with the label. Whenever the both of you were in meetings, you never failed to notice his continuous glances at you across the board room table. And he never missed your glances at him across the table.

Today was a little different than normal. You both were in your regular monthly team meeting but the glances you both shared were more intense than usual. When he was talking, all you could think about was what you wanted harry to do to you on this table. You were entranced by the prominent vein running down his neck and how strong and pronounced his jawline was as he talked. You just wanted him to bend you over the table and ram into you over and over again. You watched his hands as he was getting his point across. Instead of waving his hands about over there, you wanted them on you, pinning them down as he continuously pounds into you. if you weren’t drolling already, now you were. “Y/N” one of your coworkers raises their voice to you, knocking you out of your trance. “I know you had something pertaining to album sales and everything like that prepared for today.” Rob says to you from across the table. “Umm…yeah” you say in a flustered manner. You get get up, and as soon as you’re shifting to your feet, you feel dampness between your legs and you bite your lip at the feeling. Once you get your presentation set up, you stand in front of the room. Your eyes land on harry, and your face heats up and your legs get a little weak. He’s leaned back in his chair with a smug smirk spread across his face as if he could read your thoughts. You let out shaky sigh and you go forward with your presentation.

Once you’re done and the meetings over and you make your way to your office to cool down a little. You close your office door and you flop down into your chair and you slump down, letting out a huff before getting yourself together. You sit back up when you hear a heavy knock on the door. When the door opens, harry steps through and and sits in front of your desk. “So, I was wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner with me tonight” he say and leans in with his elbows on his knees. “Im working a little later tonight, I hope thats okay.” “No problem at all” he says and leans in more resting his arms on your desk with is head in his hands. You mimic his actions and you just smile at each other. You both stay this way for a little bit before theres a knock at the door. He straightens up and you both look towards the door. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but we have to get to another meeting across town, so we better get going” Jeff says poking his head into the office. “I guess I’ll get going then” he says and the both of you stand and up. You both go in for a quick hug. You go to pull away from the hug but harry tugs you back before whispering in your ear. “Ill see you later” he says just below a whisper and he places a peck onto your cheek before pulling away. You send a quick wave to Jeff and you make it back around your desk.

For the rest of the day all you could think about was harry. It was around 6 when harry came back to pick you up for your unofficially official date. The two of you really liked each other, the only thing that was holding the both of you back was the fact that you worked together, and you didn’t want to damage your amazing professional relationship. But tonight, the both of you just decided to throw caution to the wind.

He made his way past security and up to your office, not before stopping at the bathroom and looking over his appearance. He knocks on the edge of your cracked door and steps in and closes it behind him. “Thats not fair, I didn’t get to change” you pout and you start shutting down your computer and tidying up your desk before the long awaited weekend. Once you’re done you grab your purse and you sit on your desk in front of harry. “So, where are we going for this dinner” you mention to harry. “Well I was able to squeeze in a reservation at the Italian restaurant you said you wanted to try.” Your heart swelled at his words. That intensified all of the feelings you had for him already. All you could think was ‘hopefully he feels the same way’. He stands up in front of you and you just stare up at him. He mirrors the same look you have in your eyes and the both of you lean into each other. The kiss feels like a surge of electricity shooting through your body. He cups his hands softly around the space between your neck and cheeks and deepens the kiss. You place your hands on his torso and you let his warm tongue glide between your lips. You let out a slight moan and you pull him closer to you. His hands slide down your body and they make their way down to your hips, and he pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. Your hands slide down a little more and they make their way to the edge of his shirt and they make their way to the waistband of his pants. He lets out a deep moan before he pulls away, leaving you breathless. “In that meeting all I could think about was taking you right against that table, and pounding into you over and over again” he growls and attaches his mouth to your neck. You let out a series of shaky moans before replying. “How about you bend me over this desk” you whisper/moan in his ear. He pulls away from your neck and he lustfully stares at you. You bite your lip and you start to play with the waistband of his pants. He wastes no time pulling you off of your desk and quickly spinning you around and pushing you against it.

He toys with the hem of your dress before pulling it up around your waist. He grips your ass with both of his hands and you moaned at the feeling of his rings against your hot skin. He gives each cheek a harsh slap and you let out a gasp and he let out a deep chuckle before proceeding to your panties. He notices the dampening spot and he presses his two fingers against it. You moan snd you lift up to look behind you, but he quickly presses your upper body back against the desk. He hooks his fingers around the lacy undergarment and he pulls them down your legs. He sees glistening strings of your arousal still attached to your panties and he lets out a moan at the sight. He then swiftly throws them haphazardly across the room. He spreads your legs and spreads your ass to get a better look at your soaked cunt. “So wet for me” he whispers before kneeling in between your legs and licks a stripe up your pussy, tasting your sweet juices. He lets out a moan and he goes deeper into you. Your moans turn intwines as you feel his scruff rubbing against you. “Fuck, please, I need you inside me” you whine and you push back against his mouth. “Taste so good” he muffles into you before standing back up behind you. You hear the fabric of his pants rustling behind you and you hear his pants hit the floor. He grabs your hips and he pushes his clothed cock against your bare cunt. The both of you moan and he swiftly pulls back before shoving his boxers down. He tugs on his cock before brushing his cock up and down your folds, painting his cock with your arousal. Without warning, he pulls back and slams his cock into your sopping hole. You let out a loud moan at the feeling of him stretching your hole to fit his massive cock inside you. He pulls out of you, just leaving the head in. “You want me to pound you into this desk?” He whispers pressing a hand on your lower back. You emit a yes in the form of a yes, and you hear him mumble a “Ill pound you into the desk alright” and thats when he snapped his hips up into yours. He continuously hammers into over and over again. You feel him deep inside of you and your toes curl at the pleasure. You try to grab onto something but instead its only making a bigger mess on the desk. “Such a pretty and tight cunt baby, gonna cum all my cock for me baby” he moans as he hits that soft and very sensitive spot deep inside you. At that moment you completely let go. You let out a series of loud moans, as you completely let go around him. “Thats it baby, cum on my cock” he pants as his thrusts begin to get sloppy, and his grip on your hips tighten as he nears his own release. “Where do you want my cum baby” he moans as he continues to thrust in and out go you. “Fuck, cum inside me” you moan in response. Those three words make his head spin and he lets go inside of you. He’s still slowly pushing into you, making sure his cum reaches the deepest part of you. You whimper at the feeling of his warm cum painting your walls. As he nears the end of the mind-blowing orgasm, his grip on you softens and he leans down with his cock still inside of you and he presses a kiss agains the back of your neck and you smile at the gesture. “Im going to pull out now” he say lowly. He slowly pulls out of you and you whimper at the lost feeling of fullness. But its quickly replaced with a moan when you feel his cum leaking out of you. He quickly goes to grab you panties and he slides them back up your legs that no more of his cum leaks out of you. He pulls his pants up and he helps you off the desk.

He pulls you down slowly and he leans against the desk with you wrapped up in his arms. “Well if I knew mixing business and pleasure with you was so good, I would’ve done it a long time ago” he whispers and you hit his chest. “What, that was the best sex I’ve ever had. Plus, the fact that I really like you makes this 100 times better” he whispers and places a kiss on your head and rubs your back. “I really like you too you whisper into his chest. You stay in this comfortable position with harry for a few minuets before you break the silence. “Im hungry” you mumble and you look up at him with a pout. He unwraps his arm from around you and checks his watch. “Well, were way past our reservation, but its a diner a couple blocks away from here” he says and peers down at you for a response. “That fine with me” you say to him before you grab your purse. He helps you clean up the mess you two made on your once tidy desk and you two head out. He intertwines your hands and the two of you share light kisses in the elevator down to the lobby. You step out of the building into the warm New York air and he ushers you to his car. He quickly opens the door for you and he jogs around to his side before getting in and speeding off. When you get to the diner you’re able to score a booth in the back so that the two of you can have some privacy. For the rest of the night the two of you stay cuddled up into each other, eating, laughing, sneaking kisses, and just enjoying your time together.

And when it came to you guys’ little rendezvous in you office, and the way he pounded you into your desk; it was only a taste of what was to come once you made it back to his place. He gave you more pleasure than you ever knew you could feel. Lets just say that you were very thankful that it was Friday, because if it wasn’t, you were definitely going to need to call out the next day.

Masterlist

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

and you’ll never feel left all alone // 1 // charlotte&lola (penny&jupiter)

Summary: Jupiter (Lola & Tommy’s kid) and Penny (Charlotte & Razzle’s kid) find some old home movies, and watch some old interviews on YouTube. This should be fine, right? Definitely not going to be a sad trip down memory lane.

A/N: I write for 3 people apparently; me, @missleenmilliet, and that one anon who was invested in Gabs’ blog abt these gals. But also fuck i love writing this, it’s so angsty and i love family dynamics and also insights into Lola and Tommy’s relationship post-kid but when they’re not together..... idk im a mess abt this.

----

The label on the video tape reads 'Christmas 1991' in Tommy's messy handwriting, and Jupiter doesn't quite know what possess them, but they put the tape in and press play.

"What'd you find?" Penny asks, looking up from a box of old notebooks that she'd been poring over, intrigued to hear the television start up.

"Home movies, I think."

“Hi Lily-pad,” the woman in the video looks and sounds like their mother, but so bright and young, and Jupiter is frozen, eyes glued to the screen.

They watch the recording, as a young child with dark hair and dark eyes runs into frame, almost barreling Lola over. The kid couldn’t be more than three or four, waddling, with hair so long it had to be put in braids, or it would be an untamable nightmare. Lola drops the duffle bag she'd been holding in favour of scooping up the kid, the young Jupiter, grinning so wide, so bright, kissing all over their face as they giggle, “I’ve missed you so much!” Lola exclaimed, and hugs the kid close, and the kid hugs her back.

“Momma!” The kid snuggles against Lola, smiling, “daddy, you were right!” They turn to look at whoever's behind the camera, and Lola's expression turns fond, her gaze focused on the child.

“Of course, Lily-pad, wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Lola assured them, holding their daughter in one arm, refusing to put them down, she bends to pick up her bag before finally turning her gaze to the camera, and her already bright smile widens.

"Where'd you find that old thing?" Lola asks, and young Jupiter's looking at the person behind the camera with a smile.

"Garage," comes Tommy's reply, and he steps forward when Jupiter makes insistent grabby-hands at the lense, and Tommy lets her take a hold on the camera, though his gentle 'careful, Liss' could still be heard, and full of curiosity, the toddler presses her face against the camera lense, much to Lola and Tommy's amusement.

"I forgot how cute you were back then," Penny nudges Jupiter in the ribs, the two of them side-by-side on the floor of Tommy's garage, having dusted off the old VCR and home movies.

"I don't remember this," Jupiter’s voice is quiet and they can't seem to look away.

The video follows as the trio walk through the halls of Tommy's mansion, the very building they were staying in now.

"How are Nikki and Mick?" Tommy asks, quick to add, "and Alice, of course."

"They're good, Nikki's doing really well, Alice especially has been super supportive, and Mick…" she trails off for a moment, "Mick is Mick." Is all she can offer, but Tommy seems to get it, enough to at least laugh.

"What are they doing today? We could have invited them."

"Nikki's fine, he sends his love by the way, he's hanging out with Slash and his missus, and a couple of other guys from the band; their kid's almost Penny's age, how wild is that?" Lola asks, and Tommy makes a noise in the back of his throat. "No, Duff won't be there," Lola knows without even having to hear his complaint, what's set him off on a mood. "He's holidaying in Australia this year."

"Hope he gets sunburnt," Tommy grumbles, "or eaten by a shark."

"Tommy…"

"Whatever, doesn't matter anyways, how are you? What have you been up to?" He asks, and they're in the living room now, and the camera catches it as Jupiter scampers from Lola's arms and heads into the bustling kitchen, announcing her arrival.

"I've been busy, of course, with the Alice collaboration, and I've been looking at renting a bigger office, hiring some interns," she sounds a little proud, and Tommy sets the camera down; neither are in frame.

"Really moving up in the world," Tommy's smile is clear in his voice.

"And, uh," Lola hesitates, and there's rustling like she's digging in her pockets, "ninety days." She says quietly, finally, and a silence follows.

"I'm so proud of you, dude, that's awesome." Tommy's voice is muffled, like he's speaking into her hair, and then there's movement from the camera as he's picking it up, focusing it on a mildly embarrassed Lola.

"I'm commemorating this moment;" Tommy told her, and Lola can't help her little, embarrassed smile as she holds up the little 90 Days Sober chip, "Merry Christmas, Lols, I'm so damn proud."

The video roughly cuts to a shot of Tommy in front of the Christmas tree, frowning at the camera, before double checking it was stable. When he moves away, the rest of the room is revealed. Tommy's parents sit on the sofa, watching young Jupiter, and what can only be a young Penny diligently shaking presents with their names on it.

Penny is almost six, strikingly blonde, and looks like a young woman on a mission, methodically going through all of her presents and trying to hear what was inside. Jupiter, however, watches Penny pick up a present, and follows suit, too young to read, to know if their name's on it, and when Penny shakes her present, Jupiter copies her tenuously, not quite grasping what they were doing. Penny catches the way Jupiter's watching her, and then looks at the present.

"That's not yours," Penny tells Jupiter, and gently takes the small box from her, "that's for Nana." And she puts it back beneath the tree, scouring the pile of presents, before she finds a small, soft, strangely shaped one and hands it to Jupiter. "This is for you." And she says it so matter-of-factly. Jupiter shakes it, confused, watching Penny for approval. "Can you hear what's inside?" Penny asks, and Jupiter shakes her head, looking a little concerned, as if she'd done something wrong.

"Well then why don't you open it up and see what's inside?" Lola offers, stepping into frame and sitting by the Christmas tree. Jupiter tears into the paper like a wild animal, and for a moment they're turned away, before they go still.

"He's got sticks like daddy," and they sound overjoyed, turning to excitedly show their grandparents the teddy bear wearing a black t-shirt with the Theatre of Pain mask on it, holding two plush drumsticks.

"And Penny, I know you're a bit old for bears," Lola started tentatively, reaching for a similarly shaped package near the base of the tree, handing it over to the blonde girl, "but your dad was a drummer too, just like your uncle." And Penny's far more subdued than Jupiter, who's climbed into her Grandfather's lap and started to air drum with the bear, already seemingly forgetting the rest of the room.

Penny's bear has a little, black tophat, and a black shirt with the cover of Hanoi Rocks' first album, 'Bangkok Shocks, Saigon Shakes, Hanoi Rocks' printed on it, and two little drumsticks. The bear is smiling.

"We match!" Jupiter exclaims, upon seeing Penny's bear, but Penny herself doesn't seem to notice, just gives Lola a tight hug.

“Oh,” it was Penny’s turn to go soft, in the present, watching the surprisingly high-quality recording of something she hadn’t even realise she would remember, “I’ve still got that bear somewhere.”

“I don’t.” Jupiter sounds like they regret that, “when I was twenty-something, you remember I burnt all the shit that Lola ever gave me.”

“Yeah, I remember your Y2k party.”

“I miss that bear,” Jupiter admits, almost inaudibly.

They watch as the family opens Christmas presents together, the girls getting a range of toys and clothes, all in pinks, purples, and blacks. Penny gets a set of glow in the dark stars for the ceiling of her room, and Jupiter gets a plush planet in tie-dyed neon purple.

And then there’s another cut, a strange angle, like the camera’s set on a coffee table, catching the side-profile of the piano and stool beside it. Lola’s sitting on said stool, watching Tommy as he makes sure the camera’s recording. She looks at Tommy with a quiet happiness, almost like she was content; with ankles crossed, wearing a thick, knitted sweater, she looks, for lack of a better word, domesticated.

Tommy looks back at her, and for just a moment, he pauses.

“What?” Lola half laughs, sounding more gentle than she’d usually ever let herself sound on camera.

“You just look really good,” Tommy grins, “healthy and shit; you look like you’re doing good.” After a moment, there comes a quiet giggle from off camera, and both Tommy and Lola turn, grinning.

It’s Penny and Jupiter, and Jupiter sits in Lola’s lap, and Tommy scoops up Penny and sits her in his lap when he joins Lola by the piano. The two dutifully inform the pair by the piano that Grandma and Grandpa Bass have gone upstairs to take a nap, and that they had been very well tucked in and kissed goodnight. It’s almost painfully adorable.

And Lola’s hands come up to the keys, and Jupiter uses her arms like armrests, and asks what’s happening.

“It’s tradition,” Penny tells her matter-of-factly, and Tommy presses a kiss to the top of his niece's head before agreeing.

“It’s a Christmas present I gave your mommy a long time ago,” Tommy told Jupiter, who was watching as Lola carefully played a few scales.

“A piano?” Jupiter asked, and Lola laughed gently, her fingers stilling for a moment.

“No, Lily-pad, he gave me the chance to get back to doing something I loved,” she said gently, before her fingers found the opening chords for Home Sweet Home. When Lola sings it, it sounds like a lullaby, and Tommy holds little Penny, watching in quiet awe.

“You know I'm a dreamer, but my heart's of gold, I had to run away high, so I wouldn’t come home low,” her voice catches, and Tommy fills in, matches her tone, her gentle singing, and Jupiter looks up at him, eyes bright and full of wonder as the song turns to a quiet duet between their parents.

And in the present, Jupiter doesn’t realise they’re crying until they feel the tear tracks beginning to dry on their cheeks.

“She always played that one,” Jupiter scrubs almost angrily at their cheeks, as if trying to erase the proof of their emotions before anyone could accuse them of having any of them. When all they hear is a choked noise beside them, they turn and Penny’s silently sobbing, not even trying to hide her tears.

“I- I forgot, f... fuck.” And then she’s fumbling, pulling out her phone, clicking and typing before pulling up a YouTube video.

HANOI ROCKS Razzle Dingley & Charlotte Lee Cutest Moments the title reads, and Penny flicks through to about the two minute mark. It’s an interview, the footage grainy, but Charlotte and Razzle are side by side on a sofa, his hand on her knee, and the pair look so elated.

“So do you, what do you put on for your daughter to go to sleep to? Is she nodding off to like, Motley Crue’s Kick Start My Heart? or Razzle, is she more of a Boulevard of Broken Dreams girl?” The reporter asks, tone light and a little teasing, and Penny’s parents laugh in the recording, and they catch how Razzle tips his head to lean against Charlotte just a little more.

“Pennylope’s gonna grow up to be a real rock an’ roller, I can tell you that, she’ll know all the words to my songs before she knows mam or dad, I’ll bet,” Razzle grins and it’s all teeth, but Charlotte doesn’t seem inclined to disagree.

“I tried to change her while listening to a demo of their new album, and she just wouldn’t stop dancing,” Charlotte adds, before her grin turns a little mischevious, “don’t tell Tommy I said this, but Motley’s stuff scares her half to death; I put on Shout at the Devil the other day and she started bawling her eyes out.” Which sets Razzle off laughing, nodding, and Charlotte tucks her arm in his; they’re almost sickeningly cute. Sitting like this, the studio lights catch the glint of their respective wedding rings.

“No, no, tell ‘em about that cute thing, though,” Razzle urges, nudging Charlotte’s knee, “tell ‘em about the Motley song she likes.”

“The one,” Charlotte emphasizes with a laugh, but obliges, “so yeah, there’s this one song she does like, and it’s one I’m quite fond of -”

“You’re biased,” Razzle goads her fondly, and Charlotte rolls her eyes.

“Am not -”

“Your cousin wrote it!”

“Co-wrote it! And that doesn’t make it less cute.”

“It is pretty fuckin’ cute.” Razzle agrees, and shuts up enough for Charlotte to actually finish the story, though he’s got this starry-eyed gaze the whole time.

“So Tommy and Nikki wrote this, actually partially for me and for, uh, not exactly sure what to call her, Lola, their assistant manager, I guess? Who they were sort of dating? It’s a whole things, but we’d all just been having an atrocious time on tour in like, eighty-two, all ready to go home, and I remember one night just seeing Lola and Nikki curled up at the back of the tour bus, Lola was almost asleep, and Nikki was being like,” she laughs, “uncharacteristically cute, saying stuff like, ‘not long now ‘till we’re home sweet home’ and I just remember Tommy absolutely just taking that phrase and running with it.” She takes a breath now, seeming much more gentle and honest, fidgeting a little, “and we just, it just sort of became an anthem between the four of us, a signal, like a little thing we’d start to hum if we were feeling homesick or needed some comfort, it wasn’t a romantic thing, it was just a need for human contact and connection, you know, a bat-signal for ‘I’m having a shit time please come hug me’.” Though she laughs, it’s far more honest than she’d probably intended, and it seems to occur to her as she takes a deep, shaking breath, just how honest she’s allowed herself to be. After a beat, she swallows heavy, tentatively humming the opening notes of the song, before looking to the camera, and then to Razzle. Her humming goes quiet. He drops a kiss to her shoulder in silent solidarity.

“Just, you know, just take this song and you’ll never feel left all alone,” she quotes the song, looking back at the camera as she smiles softly, and her hand moves to hold Razzle’s, “and when I hear that, it’s my family, like my real family with Tommy, and my band family, giving me support, and it reminds me every time Nic’s on tour that he’ll be back soon, and it’s the support I wanna give my daughter, my little Pennylope. That I’ll never be too far away.” She says with such heartfelt sincerity, before she laughs a little, and the interview cuts to a new clip in a jarring fashion, but Penny turns off her phone. Her hands are shaking, and she’s crying. Jupiter wraps her up in a hug.

“I just f- forgot about... we haven’t had family Christmas in so long and I just- it was their song, Jup, and now it’s our song, and I just... I miss it.” She tucks her face into the crook of Jupiter’s neck, and Jupiter has absolutely no idea what to say, knowing only that they’ve started crying again. For the longest time, they stay like that, the two of them holding each other in the dusty garage, with the home video paused in front of them.

Neither of them have seen Lola in person for a very long time, not properly, and the premiere of The Dirt doesn’t exactly count.

Silently, Penny moves away, moves to rewind the tape, to listen to the exchange, the song again. Jupiter is frozen, doesn’t even know what they feel, or how to process what is happening.

“It’s tradition.” Young Penny tells them both from the recording again, and she sounds so earnest it almost hurts.

“It’s a Christmas present I gave your mommy a long time ago,” Tommy, so young, so gentle and caring, smiles in the video.

“A piano?” Jupiter asked, voice high and young and curious, which makes Lola laugh, gentle and fond, a sound that makes present-day Jupiter’s heart ache.

“No, Lily-pad, he gave me the chance to get back to doing something I loved.”

#Tommy Lee #tommy lee imagine #lola x tommy #razzle dingley #razzle dingley x oc #razzle dingley imagine #the dirt #oc #motley crue #hanoi rocks #the angry lizard writes #lola & charlotte

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taesbetch · 5 years

Text

02 | Den Of Hybrids

Pairing: BTS x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Taking care of six hybrids can be a pain in the ass but when a stray needs y/ns help, y/n brings him home to his new family. Follow Y/n as she tries to help Taehyung (The new hybrid in town) fit in and continue to keep the other six alive along with other troubles that life brings.

Previous | Next

As the hybrids gathered in the lounge to watch re-runs of keeping up with the Kardashians a letter that sat on the counter caught your eye. Its electric blue envelope sent shivers down your spine, the design of it bring back memories of someone you would rather forget.

As you picked it up, the laughs of the hybrids halted as they sensed the change in your demeanour. Reading the letter, you stomach filled with dread. The news the letter presented made you want to vomit in horror.

“what’s wrong?” Namjoon asked worriedly as the seven boys waited for you to explain. Turning around to them you let out a huff of frustration.

“Aunt May is coming over”

“Let's just pack up and move” Yoongi suggested as his face showed the disdain that the words aunt may brought.

“aunt may?” taehyung asked in confusion as jungkook whined, clearly upset that she was coming to town. The group's mood was a mixture of sadness and dread, taehyung couldn’t understand what was so bad about the aunt may that had the whole rooms mood dropped in 0.2 seconds.

“She’s y/ns grandmothers’ sister” Namjoon explained to taehyung as he ran a hand through his hair.

“More like the devil! That woman has never had a good intention in her life since y/ns parents passed away she’s been acting like a guardian but all she really wants is the fortune. Old hag” jin exclaimed, his face going red from not taking a breath of air.

“when is she coming?” hoseok asked.

You scanned the piece of paper again, knowing you saw a date somewhere.

“she’s here in three days” You groaned. You had planned the next three days to a T, you were both busy with your book writing and running your businesses, not to mention the new addition to your crew; you didn’t have the energy for this woman.

“Can’t you just tell her we died in a car crash, so she won’t come to visit us anymore?” Yoongi whined as he folded his arms over his chest. You looked at the group with sympathetic eyes. Your aunt was always so rude to the hybrids, she has been a loud advocate when it came to disapproving getting hybrids. Never once had a nice word came out of that woman's mouth.

“well…anyway, we have a doctor’s appointment to-“ you started but couldn’t finish due the synchronised groaning from the boys.

“looks like this week is going to be a long one” You laughed the boys sighed, the mood grumpy and full of dread.

Night time fell and as the boys ate dinner you sat in your room finishing up on some work.

“y-y/n”

You looked up and smiled at your eldest bunny, a plate of food in his hand and a soft blush on his cheeks.

“jimin” You smiled as you pushed your laptop to the side, letting jimin sit in front of you “thank you for bringing my dinner” you finished as he placed it on your bedside table.

“of course!” he chirped his ears perked up excitedly.

“How are you doing? Are you feeling a little more comfortable?” you asked as he sat down, his sleeves pulled over his hands as he nervously looked you in the eyes.

He nodded happily his eyes watering a little which instantly had you worried. Before you could ask the nervous hybrid what happened you were engulfed in a tight hug.

“Jimin?” you asked as you hugged him back, the boy was affectionate, but this felt different it felt almost as if he was trying to love you back for all the things you had done for him. The way he held you tightly conveyed his message of never wanting to leave you and it made your heart swoon.

“I love you y/n, thank for looking after Yoongi and I. I know he can be a bit cold…but I know he’s grateful” Jimin confessed as he pulled away from you.

Patting his head, you smiled as his blush deepened to a dark red.

“Hey, I'll read you a bedtime story tonight mkay?” You asked knowing how much he loved being tucked in. A smile reaching his eyes made its way on its face as he did a few fist pumps in the air.

“oh! Can taehyung sleep in my room?” he asked as you grabbed your dinner, ready to dig in.

“well yea I mean If he would like to, I don’t see why not” you answered causing his smile to get bigger than you ever thought it could. You giggled as the boy hoped out, remembering when jimin would shake every time he moved around the house. Though he was still shy you began to see his joyful side and were grateful at his efforts to be a part of the family.

Breathing out you looked over at your work, slamming the computer shut before digging into your meal. You’ll deal with that shit later.

---

Even though 10 o clock was around the time everyone actually started going to sleep, you always did your roundly goodnights now, at 9, just because it was more convenient.

Knocking on Namjoons door you waited for him to answer as you looked over to the lounge watching Yoongi and jungkook playing video games.

“Come in!” He replied.

As you opened the door you saw him sitting on the ground and the amount of paper on the floor in front of him. You were incredibly confused, and it showed on your face.

“Hey bud, what’s going on?” you asked, moving into his room and motioning to the mess on the floor. Closing the door, you listened as Namjoon mumbled inaudible words. You sat down next him on the floor as you picked up a single page, looking at the small picture of a female hybrid in a corner.

“well I…you know my heat is next month,” he said softly his eyes avoiding yours.

“Ohhh, my little namjoon is choosing his mate” you cooed as you gripped him into a hug.

“Y/n! its embarrassing!” he whined as he pushed away from you, his whole face heating up as he hid his face in his hands.

“don’t be embarrassed! it's completely normal. Do you have any front runners you would like to meet?” You asked as you watched him eye a certain profile. The girl seemed to be a lioness, a perfect match for your lion hybrids as they tend to gravitate towards each other. Hybrids weren’t usually bothered with mating with other hybrid types but hybrid types like lions and bears were often a bit to rough to mate with others, thus they liked staying within their own group.

“well…i…her?” he asked as he passed you the girls page. You smiled at how nervous and shy he was, this wasn’t his first time going to the mating centre, or his first time picking a mating partner but every time he seemed to be as nervous as the last.

The mating centre was the best mating service in the country, its quite pricey but its completely worth it. The males get sent profiles of the females, then the males choose who they would like and send a request to meet back to the females. If the female deems the suitable the two will meet and she’ll pick her preferred partner out of the requests she has gotten.

“what if she doesn’t want to meet me? What if no female wants to meet me?” he asked, his eyes full of worry as he ran a hand through his hair.

Even though the system of picking could end in a broken-hearted male who has been rejected by all, the situation has never occurred. You didn’t know how they did it, but the centre had a way of making sure everyone was paired.

“Namjoon, you know that’s not gonna happen and if she doesn’t want to meet, you’ll we’ll find another one! You’ve got a month bud” You answered as he pouted.

“I know…here, if she doesn’t answer maybe these girls” He said as he gave you a small list of profiles all the girls staying within the cat family.

“and who knows! Maybe one of these girls could be your forever mate!” you chirped as you patted his shoulder.

“Maybe…goodnight y/n” He said before giving you a hug.

Leaving Namjoons room you moved to jungkook and Yoongi, getting ready to rip them a new asshole for having the t.v too loud.

“Hey! Turn that shit down, you know the rules!” You shouted as you pulled the most serious face you could.

Jungkook groaned before turning it down, his ears flopping down as you mumbled angrily.

“Y/nnnn don’t be mad” he whined as you placed your hands on your hips.

“jungkook you know you aren't supposed to be playing video games this late – your bunny senses will be stimulated and it will-“ you started only to be cut off.

“it will mess with my human ones yes yes I knowww, I'm sorry! I'm going to bed right now!” he exclaimed as he rose from the couch storming past you to go up to his bedroom.

“fine, goodnight” you shrugged, knowing there was no way that baby bunny was going to bed without his hug.

“Goodnight Yoongi” You smiled cheekily as you shuffled towards him, your arms open hoping he might hug you first, instead he just shrivelled back in disgust. You paused for a minute wondering if you should continue your mission. Dropping your arms, you pouted before starting to walk away.

“goodnight y/n” He mumbled back, even though it was quiet it still put a smile on your face.

Hoseok room door was slightly open when you approached it, knocking you heard the scrambling of items as he let out a worried squeak.

“Hoseok? You okay?” you asked as you slowly opened the door. You gasped as you saw the absolute mess of his room. His bed was broken, his table was flipped up side down, there was chlothes everywhere.

“OH MY GOD. JUNG HOSEOK, WHAT IN THE BLOODY FUCK!” you yelled as you examined all the wreckage he had made.

“I can explain!!” He yelled back as he waved his hands panicking

“Did you shift? I TOLD YOU TO GO OUTSIDE AND SHIFT EARLIER!”

“IM SORRY!! I DIDN’T LISTEN WHEN YOU TOLD ME TOO”

You looked at him in disbelief. Shaking your head, you let out a sigh before glaring at him.

“fine. You’re an adult, you can handle this” you said signalling to the room. “goodnight my sweet angel who will now forever listen to me” You added with a sinister smile as you left his room.

“Do I not get a hug!?!” he yelled as you walked away.

You groaned as you thought about having to deal with that knowing that the horse hybrid would not be able to deal with it himself, trying to shake of the thought of having to clean and rebuy you decided now would be a perfect time to read a bedtime story.

Laughter was erupting from jimin’s room. As you opened the door you watched as taehyung and jimin smiled at you in sync, the two of them clearly becoming very close friends.

“Whose ready for a story?” you asked as you slid in and closed the door. The two perked up excitedly before running towards jimin’s bed. You smiled as you opened jimin’s cabinet full of stories, some were proper books and others were targeted towards kids.

“okay bud, wanna read your favourite?” you asked as the two-left room for you in the middle. Jimin nodded his head as taehyung looked between you in anticipation.

Placing Namjoon files on top of jimin’s cabinet you took the book and climbed in between the two hybrids. Watching as taehyung copied jimin’s every action. After a while of reading the book you noticed jimin nudging your shoulder as he lay his head on your stomach asking for pats.

Scratching jimin’s ear you watched as taehyung looked at him in amazement.

“what’s he doing” Taehyung asked as he looked on in amazement.

“he’s purring” you answered as you continued jimin’s petting, his purring getting more intense.

“p-purring?” Taehyung asked, his face contorted into confusion.

“yea you know, when you get pet don’t you purr?” You asked as you closed the book, knowing that jimin would be falling asleep by now.

“w-well I’ve never been pet before” He answered quietly, his eyes locked on his hands as he played with them nervously. You looked at him in shock. A hybrid that’s never been pet before! Absurd! That was true torture.

“would you like to be pet, I promise ill be gentle” you suggested as his eyes flicked back to your hand in jimin’s hair. taehyung looked at you nervously before nodding his head, placing it on your stomach like jimin’s was.

You started slowly by caressing the top of his head, once you felt that he was comfortable you softly played with his ears causing a soft wine to come from his mouth as he nuzzled his head into your stomach.

Trying not giggle at his way of asking for more you started petting him like you would any of your other hybrids. As he started purring you tried your best not to swoon. Here were two of your newest hybrids, purring together. Letting them both drift of to dream land you tried your hardest to move the two too their pillows without awaking them.

A sign of trust was how nonchalant they were about you touching them in their sleep. Usually hybrids are always on alert so for them both to have their guard down around you was heart-warming.

Just as you managed to scoot of the bed, their sleep was interrupted by the abrupt opening of jimins door.

“Y/N I WANT MY HUG!” jungkook yelled.

---

The doctors was never a fun place to be. Every time you went the boy’s patience seemed to last less then the time previous.

“Y/n he finished my check up, can’t I go with Namjoon and Yoongi to the park!” Hoseok pleaded

“I don’t know, what if something happens and I’m not there” You said as hoseok finished his check up and jungkook went into the examination room for his.

“We’ll be careful!” Jin added as he pulled the best puppy dog face he could muster.

You sighed as the silence of the conversation left you hearing the voices of other people in the room.

“okay but wait for jungkook, I’ll send Yoongi and jimin once there done then taehyung and I will meet you there” You answered slowly.

The boys excitedly talked amongst themselves as you continued to comfort jimin.

“Honey, your brothers are coming out alive and well. Its gonna be okay, they are all really nice people” You said as you stroked his back, watching him shake anxiously.

“Jimin, ill even let you have my grey hoodie afterwards, you love that thing” Jin encouraged as everyone looked at the boy worriedly. You looked over at yoongi who also watched the ground nervously, trying to keep his body faced away from you.

“Yoongi are you okay? Is there something you two aren’t telling me?” you asked softly.

Jimins eyes scanned the place before he whimpered, tucking his head in your shoulder as he cried.

“are you gonna leave us here?” he cried, shocking not only you put the other hybrids as well.

“What?! Leave you here? Of course not, I would never” you answered as you hugged your bunny tightly. “was…was a doctors office where you were left last time?” you asked, the two of them nodding their heads sadly.

You sighed as you stroked jimins face, looking at yoongi sympathetically.

“I know! Ill go in with you both. Owners aren’t allowed in but other hybrids are! I’ve been with y/n since she was a baby so if that doesn’t put you at ease then I don’t know what will, this place is the best doctor’s office in town. Not gonna lie, I hate it too but its better than any other ones” Namjoon exclaimed.

You smiled at you leader lion, he always knew exactly how to take care of the other boys.

“How does that sound?” You asked as yoongi scooted closer to jimin, giving you a glance as he nodded his head.

“if Namjoon comes with us then…I’ll feel a lot better” jimin answered.

“then its settled, when they call you, all of you go up, Namjoon will know what to do” You said smiling at the three. As jungkook walked out and jimin was called you watched as the group dispersed. Jin, hoseok and jungkook off to go to the park; and the others going for their check-up.

You looked over at taehyung as he moved up to sit with you, no longer blocked by the elder boys.

“So what check-ups am I doing today?” He asked you.

“the doctor just wants to look at your previous records so we can see what type we’ll have to do, then we're gonna have to come back and do all of this unfortunately,” you said talking about what the others are doing.

Taehyung sighed as he placed his back against the chair rest.

“jin said we get ice cream after this” he stated as he looked at you for confirmation.

You were about to answer when you saw the familiar doctor exit his room, looking around for you and the name on his sheet he had never seen before.

“ah y/n!” he called. You and taehyung got up and moved towards him. Dr kai was the nicest doctor you’ve ever met. He took very good care of your hybrids and you knew he’d take good care of taehyung.

“this must be taehyung” He smiled as the two of you walked past him and into his office.

“Nice to meet you, I’m dr kai and I look after your brothers, so if you have any concerns about me you can talk to them, they’ve been dealing with me for years” He laughed. As he tapped away on his computer the two of you stayed silent. taehyung’s eyes were wide as he looked around the room, noticing how posh everything was.

“wow…okay” he whispered causing you to perk up.

“Taehyung…you’ve had a rough childhood I see. A lot of broken bones, some that were left a little too long. Suppressants for your heat – a lot of medication” He said as he looked at the boy suspiciously. Taehyung gulped as he shot you a worried look.

You were shocked to hear these things from the doctor. A hybrid child needs to be taken care of, they are extremely vulnerable to accidents and growing up with hybrid specialties is a challenge. Heat suppressants made you sick, it wasn’t natural and fought their instincts, the medication often made them sick and weak and the whole thing was only invented because owners can't be bothered to support their hybrids cycle.

“It seems as though you’ve never had a full heat cycle” he stated as he started writing down some notes.

You looked at taehyung shocked as he looked at the ground in embarrassment. You pouted before stroking his head supportively.

“well, it looks like a lot of problems caused by a bad owner are occurring here. Luckily it doesn’t look like too many physical impacts are going to have a permeant effect. y/n if you give him some hybrid vitamin A every day for the next three weeks it should help out with his energy levels as coming off heat suppressants can be quite challenging and…maybe get him some therapy…physical impacts are temporary, but the mental impact will affect his daily life. We’ll need to do a full body examination and most likely a blood test” He stated as he printed out medicine scripts

You nodded your head as you took in everything the doctor had told you.

“Ill be back I’m just going to send this through to the pharmacy” He stated as he got up and left.

The room was filled with silence as you waited for taehyung to say something.

“were you…abused? I mean maybe it was naïve of me to assume that you were just neglected” you sighed as you stroked his head some more, feeling horrible for anything he had endured.

“Do…I have to get therapy? I-I don’t really want to” he said softly as he played with his hands.

“well your gonna have to talk to someone about this, otherwise how are you going to progress in life?” You asked as he sighed knowing that you were right.

“well…what about you?” he asked as he looked at you with watery eyes.

“Do you wanna tell me about it?” you answered as you dropped your hand from his head. Even though you couldn’t give him the life advice a professional could you knew that you could provide closure and if that was all he wanted, then that was fine.

“i…I think I do”

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idontworkforsega · 5 years

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*drum rolls Presenting another list of cutegirlmayra’s amazing work! TA~DAH!!

“Boom!Sonamy: I need more jealous/concerned sonic please. Whatcha got miss?” | “Anymore Sonamy Sonic Boom headcanons” | “Ok, I got an idea! A Sonic Boom Prompt (doesn’t have to be necessarily sonamy-ish) where the gang go on a death defying mission! Like chock full of action! I’d be interested to see how you’d do this :)” | “I was thinking of a prompt that there is going to be a half hour special of Sonic Boom that features time travel where Eggman sends Sonic to the future and he meets the older version of the team, but they’re angry at him thinking he abandoned them! What do you think Mayra?? :3” | “Anymore Sonamy Sonic Boom headcanons?” | “Hiya~ it’s Alii. I got a prompt for ya! I was reading the other prompt that you wrote for an anon, and it definitely got me thinking: What were to happen if Sonic and Amy were official, but had to keep it hidden? I’m picturing them stumbling to do so, especially Amy. Try to keep them as canon as possible, which I know is hard, but it can be done!! Also, if you could, I would love to see how suspicious Tails gets. He’d probably pick up on Sonic’s change of behaviour? aa thank you!! xx” | “Ok this is just a Sonic Boom! Prompt, and you don’t have to do it if you don’t have time. Anyway, one of my major Sonic Boom headcanons for me is that all the team have mysterious pasts. So this would take place when they’re on their way to find Lyric and they find an old wise man in a temple they fall into. The man tells them they need to know their pasts in order to be a good team, so he uses his magic to help them see eachothers memories. I hope you get really detailed, but anything is great!” | “How about just headcanons for Knuckles (as in character development-ish)” | “Can you do a boom!prompt telling the story of when the gang met sonic for the first time? And possibly add some sonamy? Like what they first thought of him. (I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense xD) Thanks!” | “Mission Prompt for Sonamy” | “If you still are doing the meme prompt, can be the letter I with Sonamy? 👉👈” | “Hey, if you wouldn’t mind, could you do something with Sly/Carmelita with F from the second prompt meme? That would be amazing!” | “Mission: Prompt 4” | “Mission: Prompt” | “Oh oh oh! Can you do a boom!sonamy prompt where amy is totally stressed out bout stuff and almot pulling her hair out (not literally lol) and so sonic takes her out for a night on the town! If you please, :)” | “OKAYOKAYOKAY SO I SAW THE THING ABOUT HOW THE SONIC BOOM GANG WERE THE ORIGINAL ANCIENTS AND I TOTALLY FLIPPED COULD YOU DO A BOOM!SONAMY PROMPT BUT INSTEAD OF SONIC AND AMY YOU COULD WRITE ABOUT THE ANCIENT AMY AND ANCIENT SONIC AND THEIR STORY?? I AM SORRY BECAUSE YOU PROBABLY NEED MORE INFO TO WRITE ABOUT THAT BUT YOU COULD MAKE IT UP FOR ALL I CARE IM SORRY IM YELLING I JUST LOVE THIS IDEA (okay I’m calm now)” | “@elyzahere My internet isn’t letting me ask you this, so I’ll have to write it out here. Hope you don’t mind. ^,^’” | “Pssst, can you whip up a little modern!sonamy for me? I’ll leave the story or mood or Anything to whatever ya like, really! :D” | “Ok! A Sonic Boom Prompt where the gang is after a fox girl villain (who just so happens to be really pretty) who holds the last crystal fragment in her clutches. After drawing straws, Sonic is forced to flirt with her. That way, Amy, who has the best sneaking skills, would be able to take back the crystal piece. Amy hears them flirting and thinks Sonic is being serious and gets her heart broken…you do the rest!” | “Boom!sonamy prompt: Sonic and Amy have a flirting competition while no one is around XD” | “OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR DOING THE SLY COOPER AU!!! I actually loved, could you do another boom! sonamy sly cooper au? If you want, you don’t have to. But yeah, thanks!!! <3” | “Can you do a boom!sonamy prompt where sonic gets really beaten badly and amy is healing him? (cough cough beauty and the beast reference coughcough) And make it really fluffy! Feels galore if the missus don’t mind ;D Thanks dear!” | “have you got any lifestyle headcanons for the main sonic cast? like, a routine they always do, something they can’t stand, a particular belief they hold? this is just for any characters you like/ make headcanons about :P not really a prompt, just wondering :)” | “hey, a bit out of your norm, but could you please write something for the chaotix? headcanon, theories, anything like that? thanks very much, lovely :)” | “Here’s a prompt : Sonic Boom : Sonic and Amy are forced to share a room (or more importantly, a bed) after the team finds a village, can you write something about how they would react to that, and how they would make it work? That would be interesting!! (and evil >:D ) KAY BYE!!!” | “I would lile some cute fluff boom!sonamy, please! Whether it be flirting, singing, dancing, cuddling, anything!! Thank you, dear!” | “Okay, okay, I’m done messing with you~ Here’s a CANON prompt! (Modern) Sonic gets blasted by a laser that took his speed away! Now, he was to walk around like a normal person until Tails finds a way to fix him. WHAT WILL HE DO?!? (Just a little funny thingy)” | “Hey can I as for a special request..? Uhm, I know we all love sonamy ,everyone’s otp as well as mine and I really do love your cute stories but uh…I’m trying to get over someone and I was wondering if you could maybe make a story where Amy moves on..? Or where they except that they can’t be together and that’s it’s okay. I know it’s not very modern but maybe boom..? You don’t have to but I hold her dear to me and wonder how she would handle a break up/ getting over someone…” | “Prompt maybe: After a lot of arguing in the gang, the group decides to sit down and say nice things about each other (most of which are really corny) and then sonic and Amy’s turn gets quite cute and yea… :)” | “How about this for a prompt: Sticks sees this new guy in the village and likes him. Only problem is, SHE’S TOTALLY FREAKING OUT CAUSE SHE LIKES SOMEONE, THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE, SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO, and is generally freaked out (like her reaction to most things). So she tells Amy who tries to help. Take it away~” | “Heya! Could you do a Sonamy Boom Prompt that can be anything you want but on one condition: you have to include these three objects/things, in no particular order: 1. Enerbeams 2. Stars 3. A Distraction.” | “Prompt!(BOOM) (Since Amy is keeping this a secret, I decided to go that route) Sonic walks into Amy’s room to get some old books she asked for, when he stumbles upon a drawer full of love notes, poems even photos with red hearts drawn with marker around his face!! Of course, being the nosy hedgehog he is, he decides to read them all!! What will happen when Amy finds out? WILL she find out? How would Sonic react? What will be the concequences? MWAHAHAHA!” | “Prompt! Or two prompts! PLEASE! ANYTHING! MY SONAMY FIRE HAS BEEN REKINDLEDDDD😍😍” | “can you do a boom prompt about something in the 1920’s? like a detective thing? Sonic as the detective, amy as his client, knuckles and tails as the assistants? (and could you somehow add a hint of sonamy?) Idk thought it would be interesting. I’m sorry if this is weird XD” | “September cold: can you cheer me up? wildcard for sonic headcanons, whatever is on your beautiful mind :) thanks xxx” | “"strong amy” for her birthday? yes please! boom prompt maybe? however you want it…“ | "Can you do a boom sonamy prompt where sonic calls amy beautiful? Like he just says it and she freezes and is like "Wait what?”“ | "boom!sonamy prompt: Amy and sonic just being awkward around eachother, like their hands touch or something and they flip out? Just awkward and embarassing fluff!! Thaaaaank you!” | “Could you do a Sonamy Boom Prompt where Sonic and Amy are in a duo mission when after slightly flirting with each other, Sonics enerbeam goes hay wire! It ends up wrapping around them, forcing them to be quickly pushed together and they accidentally kiss….? (And try to mention somehow that enerbeam is controlled by actions from innermost thoughts or heart, so subconsciously, whether he knew it or not, Sonic wanted to give her a hug.😋) …did that make any sense at all?” | “Boom!Prompt, Knuckles’ backstory, where he use to be really small,and everyone kept calling him weak,then he decided to train himself,to become stronger and bigger.” | “Prompt! :(Modern) Sonic was running around at night when he noticed Amy sitting on a cliff, watching the stars. He gets confused, and nervously walks up to her. Turns out, she okay, and they end up just having a cute little conversation while laying rather close to one another (But not too close, according to Sonic XD), watching the stars! :D OOH! I just thought of something, PUT A SHOOTING STAR IN THERE TOO!X3 (P.S:Just so you know, not all of my prompts are for advice, I LOVE to read them!!:D)” | “Prompt :(Boom) While fighting Eggman, Knuckles gets separated from the team. As he finds his way home, he encounters a cute, young, and loud girl who claims that she’s lost her family. Being the hero he is, he agrees to help her. But, she’s a pest. She keeps setting off traps and gets into in danger, and she won’t shut up! Knuckles get’s irritated and yells at her. As the little girl ran off, he tried not to think about her safety, but, is Knuckles really a tough guy on the inside? Hint: NOPE!” | “Hmmm… Not sure if I want it a sonic and tails or Sonamy headcannon. But it’s where either sonic tries to ask tails about his "funny feelings” for Amy, trying to make sense of it, or just asking plain advise. OR tails finding out and confronting sonic about it (add some humor too? :D)“ | "Boom!Sonamy Headcanons (Cause they popped up in my head lol XD)” | “You may have already answered this, but what kind (if any) Sonamy moments do you think will be in Sonic Boom?” | “More Sonic boom headcannons please?” | “do you have any bonding headcanons for Knuckles and Amy in Boom? :)” | “Do you have any more Boom!Shadow headcannons?” | “Wait, question! For headcanon 49, what is Amy’s backstory?” | “So I heard that Shadow is confirmed to be in the Sonic!boom world. Got any headcannons between him and the gang?” | “Wait, you ship Tails and Sticks, right? I think you’re the one who got me shipping them :’D do you have any more headcanons about them? Because they’re ADORABLE.” | “Can you do a boom!sonamy prompt about sonic and amy raising a child? I don’t think you have done this before, have you?”

And while I was rechecking a few prompts on your blog…boy, I found the gold mine!! But I’m not sure if I already found some of them before and included it on the previous list I sent to you, and there are a few more lying around here that I am not so sure if I already submitted on the previous list…Can you please send the list back to me? Is that even possible?

If so, THANK YOU! ~ <3

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

Once again, thank you for this post! But like previously stated with (x) <-- your other list, it’s a little difficult to know which ones I’ve found and which ones I haven’t.

If anyone could let me know if I haven’t reblogged any of these, me and Cutegirlmayra would be very much obliged!

Thank you once more for your contribution in saving many of @cutegirlmayra’s amazing works! Continue to help the cause! We all want to be able to read her stuff in an easier way!

#Idontworkforsega #cutegirlmayra #prompt help #find my prompts!#submission

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