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ms0milk · 1 year

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𝐀 𝐇𝐘𝐌𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 || 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

On a diplomatic trip far from home, Prince Bakugou must contend with his hatred for you. A woman who lives to take orders. The last thing the warrior prince needs is a babysitter but it’s a feat, not a coincidence, that you are the only apprentice to the captain of his royal guard. Feasts, balls, and festivities await you and your new friends at Takoba, and in the seaside kingdom you must reconcile with the idea that your prince is not so noble as the queen who raised him. All while something half dead and long forgotten festers on high tide.

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 [𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔] prince!bakugou x royal guard!(fem) reader, slow burn to eventual smut. y/n has a personality and it is business formal, she grows. individual chapters will have specific tags-warnings-ratings— in general please expect violence/descriptions of injuries, strong language, two aloof fools, the classic motley bnha crew, seaside shenanigans. bakugou is an absolute piece of work, y/n is professional to a fault and it drives him insane. travel companions ー civil teammates ー genuine enemies ー confused friends ー lovers. plenty of ridiculous tension accompanied by angst and 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄

❂ ー 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 this story has been my baby over the past few months (was this a direct response to mha ch 362? yes) — so I hope you cherish it as much as I do. I am not immune to roy/riza (fmab) and many of the dynamics in this au are heavily inspired by their relationship! just gotta build up that trust first (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ be prepared to absolutely hurtle this man out of harm's way TAGLIST | AO3

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆. ✦

You terrify him and it breaks his heart.

𝒐𝒏𝒆. 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩

In the warm forests of Aldera Castle you and the prince grew up in periphery. A soldier without magic and the boy who never spoke to her. Suddenly, he is your only responsibility.

𝒕𝒘𝒐. 𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

With the first day of travel under your belt and introductions well collected, your Alderan company finds time to unwind together. Thankfully, nothing bad ever happens around a campfire.

𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆. 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝

Are all carriages of the east made for prisoners of war? Prince Bakugou despises the close quarters and their snagging silver fixtures, but it is a special kind of fate that would deliver you to the safety of the sea and to the feet of the fire that bars your entrance. And deliver you together at that.

𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓. 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞

Hats off to dying!

𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆. 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

What a vivid dream you’ve made, of the prince and his heavy hands wrapped around your body.

𝒔𝒊𝒙. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐨𝐛𝐚

It is at exactly the wrong moment that you realize where all the guards have gone, and just how desperate you must appear for the prince to take such pleasure in destruction.

𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏. 𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

Would he treat you this way in the presence of others? Is it only when you're alone that hell raises?

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈

𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕. 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐰𝐨.)

In the immortal words of your prince, this was a dogshit idea for a dinner party. You are haunted by blue flames and scarred ghosts no matter how hard you focus on work, and a punishment for your distraction is in order.

𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆. 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐭

He has no right– your prince is a hypocrite and alone in a haunted seaside garden confrontation is, finally, inevitable.

𝒕𝒆𝒏. 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐟𝐨𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐰𝐨.)

You will eat the flame mage alive before he lays a finger on your prince, but why gods has Bakugou chosen now to fear for you? To treat you so gently?

𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏. 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

Thirty-one hours awake and every second spent thinking of you.

𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒆. 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

Gods help anyone that might try to hurt you, even if that person is the ocean, or a god– even if that person is you. You finally find your prince's bedchambers after a fight at sea.

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐤𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐠

The end of your fever comes with realizations. What happens when two people unable to speak stand too close for too long?

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈

𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

You always think you're well enough to train and if Bakugou has to tie you to a hospital bed himself he will, but he doesn't mean to watch you win for so long and he certainly doesn't mean to join you.

𝒇𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧

Can devotion come before forgiveness? can you control it? the last two sober Alderans carry their friends to bed.

𝒔𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬

You don’t mean to bite him, he startled you. You don’t mean to laugh together or beam about magic that is not yours. You do not mean to kiss him.

𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

(3/11)

#wanna be tagged?#leave a nice comment or fill out my taglist form!#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #mha #mha fantasy au #mha x reader #bnha #bnha fantasy au #bnha x reader #fantasy bakugou #fantasy bakugo #a hymn to black water

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sy-on-boy · 2 months

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My 2 cents on the plot / thematic relevance of Ch 95

This is not about advancing Plot B or showing Anya's school life (which is still true but has been discussed), but rather the overall theme of education and war. There was an excellent post about how Eden is at the frontline of the cold war and it is subtly shown through the innocent lens of the first graders (I can't find it now, would link it if I could). And I think that perfectly applies to Ch 95.

Quick recap on some references about education/students/war throughout the series (that I remember at the moment):

Sylvia gravely condemning the Berlint University Student Terrorists during the Doggy Crisis arc (Ch 20) and saying "did you learn nothing about war at your university?"

Henderson talking about his experience as a history teacher (Ch 27.5, Short Mission 4) and quote: "Yes, well, I have always maintained that there is nothing to be learned from the memorization of time lines. From the grand efforts with which our forefathers crafted society to the foolish notions that sent them racing to war, to not study the human element at history's root is to not understand history at all"

Note that Damian's best subject has been established to be history, and his family (father) has been involved in war, at least Donovan was PM during most of the war (established by Melinda in Ch 91). Donovan is also a graduated Imperial Scholar (Ch 64).

The Red Circus group started out as a peaceful student demonstration "advocating for peace and quality" (Ch 72) and "speaking out to protect the weakest members of our society". And Billy Squire said, "We were a respectable movement that fought for our cause with respectable means. It was the state that turned violent against us. So I'm not taking criticism from a member of the establishment (referring to Henderson, an educator). I'm gonna see to it that they reap what they've sown." Billy's daughter Biddy was killed by the state at a protest.

Less of a point, but Becky is the daughter of the CEO of a major military manufacturer. Despite their very likely involvement in military conflicts because they sell arms, the Blackbell cohort has been depicted positively so far: Becky being a kind, wonderful friend to Anya, Becky's father doting on her, and Martha again being kind and dignified (and also being an ex-soldier and acquainted with Henderson).

Eden Academy is a major setting for SxF and the themes of politics, education, and war are embedded in it. The students involved in protests/groups are older (the university students, Billy's daughter), but the political implications remain even among the youngest of the students— the first graders.

Hence, Ch 95. When mere first graders are shown to fight to gain connections, which can be political as pointed out by Henderson: "In the world of politics, dances serve as major social events". But of course, they are kids, so they see it more playfully and innocently, especially Becky with her shipper lens on.

Of course, there is also the aspect of getting to know other people better out of interest (the boys asking Anya and Becky to dance because they were impressed after the bus hijacking). But as people have mentioned, nobody mentions this to Damian despite him being equally involved in saving the class (all three of them got a star). The girls aren't interested in Damian as a person, they're interested in him as an asset because of his family and their power.

And I can see the teachers trying to diffuse the tension and create camaraderie with their friendly competition. To me, this reads as the teachers fully realizing "the battlefield of political maneuvering", and they want to remind the kids to have fun, to show good sportsmanship, to unite the kids, to operate as a class and be friendly with one another, and overall make it more lighthearted. It's nice to see the classes work together and get excited / win as a unit, especially compared to the more "individual" bits of fighting for a dance partner later.

We get a bit of comparison between Bill and Damian, with Bill showing good sportsmanship while Damian scoffs at him. But Damian ends up becoming ultra competitive and telling his classmates to not screw it up.

Like the Dodgeball chapter, Damian is clumsily attempting to lead the class by doing good in his quiz, while getting stressed and yelling at his peers when they don't succeed like he did. So he's not really a good leader. Like how him being good at history does not necessarily mean he is good at being peaceful (Short Mission 4 ends with Henderson staring in exasperation at Damian + Anya bickering with each other). But obviously, he is merely a child, and he is naturally immature.

At first Loid is all for advancing Plan B and analysed Anya's suitors in a rational (reductionist?) way by ranking them in terms of gaining intelligence, but he remembers this is just a dance, Anya is a kid, and she should do whatever she wants. Loid (and the adults) are very aware of the political side of the gala, but ultimately they want the kids to have fun and not worry / worry less about politics.

Because they're kids! They'll grow up and learn more and be politically active later, but right now, they're just kids. Kids who don't know much about the world but are eager to make the world a better place.

In the end, we get a panel of Anya and Loid "teaming up" to win Damian's hand for Plan B / world peace. The Damian-Anya dynamic is cushioned with the silly crushy feelings, but underneath it, Operation Strix continues to be a core motivation.

I find it interesting that Endo chooses to focus on the first graders and their innocent view of the world / politics. It's embedded everywhere and especially in a prominent school like Eden, but the kids don't really realise it / realise the severity of it. Heirs and heiresses are educated at Eden and grow up to have incredible influence and the power to shape the world. Our protagonist's best friend comes from a family that manufactures arms. Henderson mentions the importance of learning history to avoid making the same mistakes (ie. war).

So Ch 95 is a cute prom chapter. But I think it also helps to show the themes underneath the fun, bubbly interactions.

#spy x family spoilers #spy x family #spy x family manga #sxf analysis #meta #idk #what do i tag #long post

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avastrasposts · 1 day

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Big Sky Country - ch. 1

Cowboy!Frankie x OFC

Hi!

I'm really excited to post the first chapter of my new fic after posting a little snippet of it almost a month ago! In it we meet a cowboy version of Frankie as he returns to New York to patch things up with his "maybe girlfriend", but he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.

No age gap, OFC story, angsty as fuck in parts, some smut, and I'm putting poor Frankie through hell again (I love him, I swear...)

And a big shout out and thank you to @i-own-loki who made the beautiful banner!

Warnings can be found here - contains spoilers but please read if you know certain themes may be upsetting for you. This fic is dark in parts and I don't want to upset anyone.

Series Master List

Main Master list

Prologue

The Greyhound bus rumbled away down the pin straight highway, heading west, towards the darkening mountain range. The sun slowly sank behind the highest peaks, soon their shadows would touch her feet. Looking back, east, towards a past she’d left on a whim, she sighed and let her eyes drift up to the indigo sky. Big sky country indeed.

So alien to her eyes, so open to someone used to living their life surrounded by tall buildings, busy people, small trees in small parks.

Here, the open prairie gave speed to the cold wind that hurtled down from the mountain range, whipping dirt from the road, tugging at her loose hair. She briefly closed her eyes against the particles of dust, inhaled deeply, tasting it on her tongue, dry grass in the air, a hint of snow from the mountains. No way back now, the bus too far away to stop. Only her duffel bag and a phone number, hoping he’d pick up and let her in.

He pressed his thumb to the button with her name, the taxi behind him rolling away down the crowded street. The buzz from the intercom added another layer of noise to the assault on his ears.

He dropped his hand.

Waited.

Glanced down the street, letting the tall steel and glass buildings pull his gaze upwards, to the thin sliver of dirty gray sky visible above them. With a sigh he dropped his eyes down, towards the end of the long street, where the buildings seemed to merge into one solid wall. He knew he was looking west, could feel it in his bones, in the way his feet wanted to start walking towards it. Towards the tall mountain range behind his home.

He pressed his thumb against the button with her name on it again, the buzzer grated his skin. He had a way back, nothing stopping him from hailing a cab, climbing back on the Greyhound and heading west again.

But she was here. If he wanted to make this work, he needed to be here.

Chapter One

A wall of warm air hit Frankie as he pulled open the door to the bar, chatter spilling out onto the street. His shoulders pulled up to his ears, the environment uncomfortable to him and he stopped just inside the door, scanning the room for something familiar apart from the smell of stale beer in the air. This bar was the first one he saw that looked like it would maybe serve someone like him, a Texas boy, fresh off the bus from Montana. He’s pretty sure he still has horse dung stuck to the bottom of his cowboy boots, his old army duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

The door behind him opened again, cold air hitting the nape of his neck under the ball cap.

“You growing roots, old man?”

The line is followed by a man snorting and a hand on Frankie’s arm, pushing him to the side. He would snap, bite back with a threatening remark, or at the very least fix the man with his most intimidating soldier scowl. But he just took two steps to the side, his shoulders creeping closer to his ears as he tugged at his cap, the movement unintentional, a nervous habit. He knew he was out of place here, a stranger.

The young man, a yellow backpack slung over his shoulder and long hair pulled into a bun, shoved his way past Frankie, catching the eye of the woman behind the bar.

“Hey, dickwad! Behave yourself or I’ll have you barred,” she barked, her eyebrows furrowed as she jabbed her finger at the man and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of apology as he sauntered towards the bar.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he snarked, heading towards a loud crowd further in, walking away and ignoring the frown from the woman. She turned her attention to Frankie instead and looked him up and down, an appraising look, before meeting his eyes.

“You coming or going, cowboy?”

“Uuh..coming,” he managed to press out, picking up his feet and walking to the bar. He felt heat creep up his neck at being so easily pegged as a cowboy, an out of towner, swallowing down the urge to turn on his heel and bolt out the door. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and the woman behind it gave him a smile, setting down a coaster with a flick of her wrist.

“What can I get you? You look like you’ve traveled far.”

“Just a beer, thanks,” he said and she gave him a softer smile, pity flashing across her face.

“This is Brooklyn, cowboy, I’ve got twenty beers on tap and forty in bottles,” she said and he felt fatigue set in, can’t even order a normal fucking beer in this city. He sighed deeply, dropping his head between his shoulders. But the woman just chuckled in a low voice, tapping her hand on the bar just in front of him.

“Don’t despair, I’m a good bartender, I know what you’ll like.”

He picked up his head as she stepped away, grabbed a glass, and moved to a tap further down the bar. Shooting him a quick grin, she began to pull the pint, amber liquid filling the glass, topping off with a creamy white head. He watched her from under the bill of his cap, shouldn’t really appraise her, but he couldn't help it. The fitted jeans on her curves, and the faded bar uniform shirt tied at the waist instead of tucking it in, made his eyes drop down over her ass in a way a man trying to save his relationship with another woman should avoid. And she clocked him, checking her out when she turned towards him again, making him snap his eyes to his hands on the bar. Heat crept up his neck as he rubbed the small bullseye tattoo next to his thumb.

“Amber ale from a local brewery three blocks from here,” she said and placed the pint on the mat in front of him.

“Thanks,” he replied, watching the bubbles rise to the bottom of the head, “looks good.”

“One of my favorites, I’ve always had a soft spot for amber ale,” she nodded, picking up a cloth and returning to the never ending duty of cleaning glasses.

Frankie picked up the glass and took a long sip, humming as the ale slipped down his throat.

“Damn,” he said, “that’s good, that’s really good.”

“Told you,” the woman smiled at him and he gave her a quick smile in return before he took another sip.

She watched him from the corner of her eye as she moved around the bar, clean glasses getting wiped and stacked. Clearly a newcomer to the city, she’d called him ‘cowboy’ and he hadn’t protested, the boots and the duffel bag giving him away, even before she saw his uneasy eyes roam around the bar and his nervous shuffle. She’s used to assessing anyone who stepped in through the door, the loud ones, the quiet ones, the ones who are only coming to make trouble.

This man was one of the quiet ones, she doesn’t think he’s loud even when he’s in his own element, surrounded by friends.

As he took another long drink from his pint, she turned and picked up glass, catching his eyes on her. She smiled warmly at him, wanting to make him feel welcome, at least in this bar. The city outside is usually brutal to newcomers, and this one seemed to carry more of a burden than most.

“So you’re new to the city?” she asked him, moving back to his side of the bar, pushing long strands of ginger red hair back behind her ears before wiping another glass.

“Yeah, came in on the bus a few hours ago,” he replied and she nodded. He doesn’t look like he flew into the city, he’s got the tired face of someone who's spent too many hours leaning against a window, watching the Midwest slip past. But underneath the tired eyes there’s a warmth, a softness in the way he gives her a small crooked smile that makes a dimple appear on his right cheek.

“Spent two fucking days on it,” he sighed, rubbing a large hand over his face before he lifted his cap and swept his thick curls back. She was temporarily mesmerized by how they bounced back around his ears as he squashed the cap back down.

“Two days? Where did you come from, Texas?” she asked, her eyes widening at the thought of spending two whole days on a bus, but he shook his head.

“No, I think Texas is like three days, I came from Montana,” he took another long drag of his beer.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a weekend trip then”, she quipped, putting down the cloth, all the glasses done, and leaned back on the counter behind her. There’s more work to be done but the stranger chuckled softly at her joke and it pulled her in, making her smile in return.

“No, I’m here to stay with someone, my..ah-a friend, of sorts,” he said, “Gonna see if I can find some work around here, try a different type of life.”

“What do you do?” she asked, “Maybe I know someone who knows someone, that’s usually how it works here.”

“Back in Montana I work with horses, on a ranch,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the condensation on the beer glass, “Before that, I was a mechanic, cars, helicopters, anything really, I can usually fix it.”

“That’s a pretty handy skill,” she replied, sounding impressed and he gave a little shrug, as if the ability to fix helicopters was something inconsequential, “I’m sure you’ll find work, especially if you can fix old cars, lots of those around here.”

She turned and grabbed a notepad from next to the till, “What’s your name and number? I’ll keep it on hand and ask around for you.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised as he sat up a bit straighter, “Uh yeah, I’m Frankie, Frankie Morales.”

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” she smiled back at him and slid the notepad across the bar, “Write it down, and your number. I can’t promise anything, and I’m not recommending you to anyone, I’ll just let them know you’re looking for work.”

“Yeah, sure, of course, but anything helps,” he replied, grabbing the pen and jotting down his information.

“What’s your name?” he asked, as he passed the notepad back to her.

“Aisling,” she replied, slipping it in next to the till again.

“Do you own this place,” he asked, looking around the bar. When he looked back at her she was shaking her head.

“No, not at all, I’m just the bartender,” she said, “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna serve these guys.” She gave him a quick smile and headed down the bar to two men who had just sat down.

Frankie watched her as she took their orders, smiling and laughing easily as she pulled a beer for one of them. The men, her age, are both hanging on to her every word as she makes a joke, the blonde one clapping the other one on the shoulder with a loud howl. She winked at him and turned, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf to serve the other man. As she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to reach, her shirt rose up, a soft sliver of creamy skin exposed in the dim light of the bar. Frankie couldn’t help but stare at the glimpse black underwear peeking out above the edge of her jeans, a flash of lace, his mouth suddenly dry as his cock reacted. He dipped his head, but couldn't keep his eyes away, she swayed on her tiptoes, refusing to get the stepladder and her breasts pressed against the shirt as it rode up higher. Frankie had an image of her underneath him, all that soft flesh, warm and smooth under his rough palms, sweet smelling and whimpering.

She managed to slide the bottle off the shelf and grab a glass. Frankie peeled his eyes away, looking down at the now empty pint in his hands, pressed his thumb into the tattoo, forcing his thoughts in another direction. At the end of the bar, Aisling rang up the customers’ order and wiped down the bar before coming back towards him.

“Do you want another?” she asked, nodding towards the empty glass. Frankie considered it for a beat and then shook his head. He wanted a clear head when he went back to the apartment, he needed to say the right things to save the relationship with the woman who lived there. He already knew that not even in his head could he bring himself to call her ‘girlfriend’, he’s far from sure that’s what she is anymore, not with the way they left it.

“No, I can’t,” he said, “It was good though, what do I owe you?”

“Fourteen fifty,” Aisling replied and he tried not to cough at the price as he pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans.

She took his bills and he left her a tip on the bar that she deposited in the tip jar with a smile.

“Uhm…tell me,” Frankie said, absentmindedly tugging at his cap, “Do I really look that much like a cowboy?”

Aisling’s smile softened as she heard his nervous question, “Well…yeah, the cowboy boots are kinda a give away,” she replied, “It doesn’t exactly look like it’s a fashion choice, and the whole jeans, suede jacket, belt buckle look…” She motioned over his body as Frankie’s eyes dropped down to his jeans and belt, hidden from view by the counter.

“You’re good,” he said, a small chuckle escaping him, “You got all that just from when I came in?”

“Tricks of the trade,” she replied, “I need to know who steps into the bar and read them quickly.”

“So you assessed me as soon as I walked in? What else did you pick up on?” He was curious now and leaned forward on the counter as she laughed.

“Well, I’m cheating because we’ve been talking for a bit now. But you do look ‘new in town’ and I’d say ex-army maybe?”

“I guess the duffel bag gave it away?” Frankie smiled, glancing down at the old bag at his feet.

“No, they’re ten dollars at the army surplus stores,” Aisling replied, shaking her head, “But you sat down with your back against a corner, and I bet you can tell me exactly where the exits are and how many people are in here and which ones could give you trouble.”

Frankie raised his eyebrows in surprise at her and she shrugged.

“You’ve been scanning the room since you walked in.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he replied, letting his eyes roam across the room again, it’s instinct at this point, inherited from years in the army, “I quit the army years ago but it’s a habit I can’t seem to drop.”

“What did you do? Mechanic?” Aisling asked and Frankie shook his head.

“Helicopter pilot, which means I had to be able to fix anything, but mainly I flew things, anything really.”

Aisling gave him a closer second look and the pieces fell into place, his quiet demeanor, the way he held himself, not exactly folded in on himself, but as if he was trying to stay unseen and not be noticed unless he wanted to be. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries.

“What?” he asked as he noticed her eyes scanning him.

“Just building the picture,” she said, a small crooked smile, “You know us bartenders, always trying to figure out the story of our patrons.”

“Not much of a story,” he said, tugging at his cap and hiding his eyes, “just new in town, looking for work.”

“Everyone has a story, Frankie Morales.”

He shrugged at that and fumbled for his phone as it began to ring. Aisling gave him a quick smile and stepped away to let him answer in private.

Frankie’s jaw ticked as he saw the name on the screen, Eva. He’s been expecting her to call since he left her front door. Their front door, maybe. The truth is, he doesn’t know where they stand anymore. They’d met in Florida, after a doomed mission to South America that left so much pain inside him, and a rift between old friends. She’d been a calming presence, someone who seemed to have his back when his mind spiraled out of control. But she hadn’t been enough, being in Florida became oppressive, and it wasn’t just the humid heat. The old haunts from the days he’d spent trying to numb his brain with white powder, bars and venues filled with memories of the friends he’d lost, both those who’d died and those who still lived, it all became claustrophobic.

When Herb, his sponsor at the NA, first invited him to the ranch in Montana he’d scoffed at the idea. He was a pilot, not a ranch hand. But after a close call, nearly falling back into the habit, he’d taken him up on the offer and gone out there for two weeks. Herb had convinced him by talking about the clear, cool air making it easy to breathe, the open sky making the mind feel less claustrophobic. And he’d been right. The first evening they’d sat on the porch, the mountains at their back, the open prairie in front, and Frankie had looked up at the endless sky and it was almost as if he was back in a cockpit, flying close to the stars. Nothing encroached on his mind, no buzz in his ears, nothing tugged at his memories, just the open sky and an endless horizon.

The two weeks of hard ranch work, aching muscles, blistered hands, sealed the deal. If he wanted to truly start over, he needed to leave Florida and come here.

Eva had been enthusiastic at first, pulled in by Frankie’s talk of the horses, a new foal that had just been born, the small cabin they’d live in. He’d shared the pictures he’d taken, all rustic beams, sturdy wood furniture and a hammock on the porch. It looked like a romantic western dream and that’s what they both really thought it would be. And for the first few months they were happy.

But when Frankie found peace and calm in the solitude of the isolated ranch, felt free and unrestricted, she began to feel claustrophobic and suffocated. The nearest town, a forty-five minute drive away, didn’t offer much of anything. She found work online and began to resent the life he’d trapped her in. That was the word she’d used, trapped. When the fights became a daily occurrence, Frankie felt the familiar itch of wanting to escape come back. Starting, as always, in his feet and crawling up his body until he spent more time out on the ranch than in the cabin. And for every hour he stayed away, Eva resented their life more, resented him more.

Until eventually, one late evening when he came back after five days on the trails with a group of guests from a neighboring ranch, she’d left. Only a note saying she’d accepted a position in New York with the company she worked for. A line about needing a different type of life, no invitation to come with her, to follow her, just signed /E and that was it.

He’d called her, spent hours on the phone when she eventually picked up, begged her to come back. Offered to move to a ranch closer to a bigger town, find a compromise where he could still have the peace of the ranch life, but let her live her life too. But she loved New York, after the silent cabin, she craved the noise and the tempo of the city.

Eventually he agreed to come to New York, to see her new life and maybe find a place in it. But the city was an assault on his senses after so long on the ranch. The peace that his spiraling mind had finally found evaporated as he navigated the city, the metro, her friends, the bars. His feet itched, the skin around his nails was picked raw and he felt on edge, even in the apartment, his mind never getting a chance to be quiet.

Eva called it his need for control, to always have a plan of escape, a way out. He knew it was the years in the army that had shredded his sense of safety, left his nerves ragged and too exposed to the mundane background noise of a city. Maybe he’d be able to deal with it some day, but now, he needed the silence.

After two months in Brooklyn, he left. A loose promise from both of them to maybe try to patch things up, to try the long distance thing. But when he sent a text, saying he’d returned safely to the ranch, and she didn’t reply for two days, he knew it was over. And he didn’t miss her. He had loved her at some point, he thinks. But their lives didn’t match, their needs too different. And he saw that he should maybe not be with anyone while he laid down the foundations of a new life in a new place. He needed to find a way to live with himself, in silence, before he considered sharing his darkest sides with someone else.

And then Eva called. Six weeks after he’d left Brooklyn. He could hear the heavy traffic behind her as she walked down a street somewhere, leaving a clinic that had confirmed what she’d suspected.

“I’m pregnant, Frankie, and it’s yours.”

The words floored him, sent a sharp jolt of dread through his system, his feet tingling, then his scalp. A baby. In New York. But his baby, their child. And the dread was replaced by nerves, how would they do this? Would she want to raise the baby in New York or come back to Montana? He had space for a child here, a guest bedroom with a view of the mountains. It would be a perfect nursery, he could paint it, build a crib with Herb’s help, the nearby town was a good place to raise a family when the child was old enough to begin school. Without even stopping to think, he built a new life around the unborn child.

Or hell, even New York, he’d make himself put up with New York if that was what she wanted. The apartment only had one bedroom but maybe they could move further out, get a bigger place. He could renovate pretty much anything, he was sure of it. Maybe they could find a quiet neighborhood with trees, where his mind could find peace even in the city. Without even stopping, he built another new life around his, their, unborn child.

“I don’t know if I’m keeping it, but I wanted to tell you.”

Eva’s voice had been hard, letting him know that she was doing him a favor by telling him, letting him be part of it.

“I’ll come to New York, I’ll get a bus today,” Frankie pleaded, “Let’s talk this through, a few more days won’t make a difference.”

She’d conceded, and he’d thrown stuff into the old duffel bag, left a message with Herb, and driven to the crossroads where the Greyhound stopped.

Now he was here, in a Brooklyn bar, looking down at her name on his phone as he pressed the green button to answer.

Chapter 2

A/N: And we're off! I'm so nervous, I really hope you all will love this and follow along as I explore this new version of Frankie! I hope to post a new chapter every Sunday so fingers crossed life doesn't get in the way too much!

❤

Tagging the ususal suspects: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @casa-boiardi

#frankie morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier

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illbringthechaosmagic · 2 years

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Now Everyone Knows (closed RP with @theovercompensatinghero)

@theovercompensatinghero

Ben aka Soldier Boy was really happy with Wanda. She was everything that Crimson Countess wasn’t. Though he hadn’t even thought about her since he had met Wanda at Supes event, that he had been told by Vought to go to. It was their first public outing and though he had been giving talking points, he had rejected it outwardly. It was enough to be micromanaged but his relationship was off limits to Vought talking points.

So back to the present the interviewer was very interested to speak to them about their relationship, he had prepared for this and gone over what Wanda and he thought would be best to say but she had also said be yourself which he had never really heard before from anyone he dated. So he was smiling when the first question came to him.

“I think that Superheroes are just like anyone else, they have ups and downs in life and then they get back up. Wanda is someone who has helped me with my past and I look forward to exploring our future together.” He put an arm around her waist as he heard the next question to her was a bit curlier. He hated when the press did that. Give her a fair question too.

“Come on now, reframe the question better. You guys are better then that.”

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

Wanda hadn’t been looking for love when she had met Ben at the SupeCon. She had heard of him, had heard of his story but this had been the first time she had met him face to face. They seemed to hit it off straight away and before she knew it, they were a couple and deeply in love with each other. Vought though, were another thing entirely.

Red carpet events was something new to her. She had been to a few evening events with the Avengers, but that had only really involved having a couple drinks while talking to potential investors. So walking a red carpet with her new boyfriend, she couldn’t help but be nervous by it all. Ben was great however, keeping her close so she could relax. Walking up to the first interviewer, she glanced up at him before turning her attention to the other.

“Hey it’s alright,” she smiled, giving him a small squeeze. “But I would like to say that, I also am looking forward to spending time with my partner tonight. He’s really made me feel special.”

#theovercompensatinghero #ch: soldier boy

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hanasnx · 4 months

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-ˏ͛ ꒷꒰ the boys ⿻ m.list ꒷ˏ͛-

MINORS DNI 18+ ༄

"Oh, no, there ain't no rest for the wicked / But that ain't where our difference lies." — Chonny Jash. (2023). Ain't No Rest for the Wicked.

彡 ch: black noir 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ premiere ✩ drabble ✩ overstimulation ✩ secret relationship ✩ breeding kink

other ¡! ❞

✩ hickeys

彡 ch: soldier boy 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ infidelity

彡 ch: jordan li 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ face sitting ✩ ass guy

NAVI | M.LIST | RULES | LINKS | ABOUT

#masterlist #indy: series #indy: one shots #indy: drabbles #indy: headcanons #indy: edits #ch: noir #ch: ben #ch: jordan #black noir smut #black noir x reader #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x reader #jordan li smut #jordan li x reader #the boys smut #the boys x reader #gen v smut #gen v x reader

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queen-of-weird-girl-nation · 17 days

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Ok but Jason being treated as a robot by CH though. Like, they found him as a feral wild child and modded thin into a perfect soldier but they use the fact that he’s so perfect to dehumanise him. No one is that perfect, that good at following orders and rules. So Jason isn’t human, so why should he be treated like one? He’s a weapon. Not a person. Why should he be treated well, given constant love and affection as a child?

Alternatively! Jason staying as a feral little wolf boy and of course he’s being dehumanised. They’re using him, using the fact that he’s remorseless, a toddler who’s absolutely terrified but simultaneously so dangerous. Why should they like this feral unroman kid, why should they treat him with respect? He’s a crazy menace? They’re still going to use him, but oh my gods they’re gonna make him feel awful. Make him feel bad that he’s such a bad person, who cares if it’s all he knows and all they’re making him do?

Jason will never be human. Not to them

#take your pick #do you see my vision #jason grace #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #riordanverse #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo fandom #rick riordan #my child <3 #jason grace my child

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avoxrising · 5 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 22

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

A short but important chapter tonight!

Content Warnings - None

You jolt awake as the truck comes to a stop. It seems to be evening, meaning the hovercraft ride and drive took the whole day.

Peeta is let out of his truck first. You can’t see where they are taking him but he’s muttering things to himself and looks scared. A soldier opens your door and you are instructed to follow.

Getting out, you finally see who you and Peeta are joining. Gathered around Boggs are Katniss, Finnick, and a few other soldiers from District 13. They are sending you into battle.

Boggs and the others seem shocked by the two new arrivals and Boggs quickly cuffs Peeta, explaining to him that it’s just a precaution until he can get the situation figured out. You hold out your hands to him but he shakes his head. He wasn’t going to cuff you.

Boggs returns to the group and explains that Coin wants you and Peeta in the propos. Finnick explains to you both that your squad isn’t on the front lines, they’re just there to film propos and look cool. Boggs then explains the holo and pods and how we still need to be careful.

Finally, the group grows tense as they debate who will take watch and when. Your head hurts too much to listen so you make your way over to the wall and sit down.

“Are you feeling alright?” Finnick asks you, noticing your sluggish movements.

“Headache,” you mutter.

“How about you get some rest,” Finnick suggests, handing over his sleeping bag to you. “I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”

You wake up screaming an hour later, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Hey hey it’s ok,” Finnick states as he tries to calm you down. One of the soldiers makes a comment about how the screaming may reveal our location but he is quickly shut up by a glare from Finnick.

“Bad dream?” he asks you.

“Tick tock,” you mutter. “The clock… it… I need to talk to Peeta now.”

Finnick worriedly nods and goes to get Peeta. He comes back and is prepared to stay for your conversation but the look you give him tells him it’s a private convo so he leaves.

“Peeta?” you ask the boy, and maybe your only companion in this situation. “What’s happening to me?”

“I don’t know,” he responds. “What was your dream about?”

“Clocks,” you say, making Peeta freeze.

“They need to send you back to 13 now,” he states. “It’s not safe for you here. We need to go back!”

Peeta’s outburst garners the attention of the group, causing Boggs and Finnick to rush over.

“She can’t be here,” Peeta tells them. “All her progress is going away the longer she’s here. We can’t stop it. It’s too late. We need to get her out before it gets worse.”

“I can have a medic come check her out but unless it’s a medical emergency I’m afraid she can’t be evacuated,” Boggs states. “Soldier Y/L/N are you feeling alright?”

“Headache,” you mumble.

“If it gets worse I’ll call in medical,” Boggs states. “Until then I’m ordering you to rest. Soldier Odair, I’ll take you out of the rotation tonight so you can monitor her.”

Dinner comes and you are starving. You eat all of your food and some of Finnick’s too. The headache is still there but you’re starting to manage.

After dinner you curl up next to Finnick in your own sleeping bag. You won’t let him touch you but you’ve instructed him to sedate you if you start screaming again. Sleep comes too easily for you.

Tick tock

A poisonous fog crawls back into your mind as your head screams in pain. Your arms are on fire as the sound intensifies.

Tick tock!

Taglist:

@randomgurl2326 @mystargirl-interlude @uther-pendragon-is-an-ass @yourdailymemedelivery @americanprometheuss @l3xi3luv @noisyalmonddreamer @nordicvxid @teaganthemorningstar @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @justtrying2getby @lvsticm @notplutos @innercreationflower @nexxus13 @kachelleee @helluvafire @haymitchabernathyslover @memeorydotcom @frostsword @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @giverosespls @honethatty12 @just-levyy @dd122004dd @nekee-lilac02 @impeterporker @nox-the-gay-nerd @redsakura101 @hopefulatrocity @eddiemunson4ever @fangirlvibez @kittimbo @zucchinimalfoy @sleepy-roman @secretsicanthideanymore @writerofadream @vsnrly @mayonesavegana @lilifl0wer @finnickodaddy @abbersreads @fox-bee926 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @isasalom @yizhoutv @livingdead-reilly @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @faephoria @omwtkydttfym @iris1587

*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick angst #thg finnick #finnick #finnick fluff #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #mockingjay #the feral one

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kevcanwait · 2 months

Text

𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭...

Waah!: The boys reaction to realizing they yelled at you when you have past trauma with yelling.

Ya-hoo!: Mn in this had a "Military" childhood, Dad treated him like a soldier and was always yelling at him whether it be commands or verbal abuse.

Yay!: Is it obvious what I'm using to label the start of my fics? lol. Anyway, Waah! is the summary. Ya-hoo! is a brief explanation or backstory, and Yay! is authors note. I need a fourth character noise for Warnings...Oh yeah! will by warnings. (Also, if you haven't got it yet, Waluigi, Mario, Peach, Luigi)

Oh Yeah!: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Trauma Triggers, The boys are unintentional dicks, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, mentions of Blood, British Cigarette slur in Changbin's,

𝓑𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷 (598 Words)

The door of your apartment slammed shut, making you jump. He knows to not slam doors but you put aside your slight annoyance for him forgetting when you hear him muttering. You shuffle out of your room and head to the living room where you can hear the mutters more clearly. Something about a missing track and being behind a day since they had to re-record some lines.

"Hey, Channie..." You said softly as you gently crossed your arms. You may be a strong tall boy (tm) now but Chan was starting to scare you a bit. "I-I got us food...Wasn't sure what your wanted but I got your fav-" "Mn, Just shut the fuck up!" He yelled, turning towards you. "I saw the damn food but if you payed attention to your damn phone, you would've known that I ate with the boys." "Ch-Chan...Stop. Now." Your voice wavered as your eyes began to water. "Who are you to tell me to stop?!"

The phrase made you flinch, the flash of your father about to hit you after you told him to stop yelling at your siblings made you stumble back into the wall, bumping into the side table, knocking over a vase that shatters as you slid down the wall, your hands coming up to cover your head as you beg your father to not hurt you.

The moment "Appa, No, please!" left your mouth, Chan's anger and stress from the day immediately went out the window when he realized what just happened. "Shit, Shit, Mn, I'm sorry." He swore he'd never raise his voice and seeing you like this, curled against the wall shaking, crushed his heart. "Mn, hey, jagi, can you hear me?" A sob is all he gets in reply and he sighs as tears build up in his eyes. His eyes catch the glass around your leg and he notices that you landed on some of the pieces, a few small blood patches on your sweats. He knows he needs to be gentle but he can't let them get worse as he kneels in front of you to try and move you off and away from the glass. You fight against him, your hands trying to help you crawl away but your right ends up in the glass and you cry in pain this time. "Ah, shit." Your eyes snap open to first see your hand, then the glass around you. "I-I'm sorry, I-I'll clean this up." You go to stand but Chan stops you. "No, No, N/n, let's patch you up first." "B-But I-I have to clean with the wounds...t-to be tougher." "Mn, babe, look at me." You do so slowly and finally meet his teary gaze. "Ch-Channie..." A new set of tears fall and Chan scoops you up the best he can to get you away from the mess.

"I'm so sorry, N/n. I didn't mean to yell at you, I know better, I shouldn't have taken my stress of the day out on you, I am unbelievably sorry." His hug was tight as he cried into your shoulder. "I promise I won't do that again, I promise to be more aware of how I'm feeling. I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry." You shake in his hold but slowly you melt into him, his faint cologne and tight grip calming you down as you wrap your arms around him as well. Although your leg and palm stung, you were grounded enough to know that both of you were comforting one another in that moment.

𝓛𝓮𝓮 𝓚𝓷𝓸𝔀 (950 Words)

Minho asked you a few days ago if you could meet him at his place so the two of you could finally spend time together after what felt like an eternity since the last time you saw each other.

You arrived a few minutes before him and hastily set out the food you brought, homemade from your sibling you visited a day prior. His cats surrounded you, watching you curiously as you get the food out. When you were done, you smiled at the cats before making your way into the living room and sat on the floor, Soonie crawled into your lap as Dori sat in front of you and Doongi was happily purring next to Dori as you pat his head and scratch his chin. Pausing your pets on the cat in your lap, you pull your phone out of your pocket to see if there's any updates from Minho. Five minutes ago is a message saying he's almost there and Fifteen minutes ago is a message asking if you could feed the babies for him. You're quick to remove Soonie from your lap and stand up, gathering their dishes and food when the door opens but you jump when it slams shut.

"Mn?" His tone was firm and you felt a little scared but kept in mind that he just came from either the studio or the dorms, he must've not had a good day. "In here!" You call out. "I brought my siblings home made Kimbap and Pajeon for dinner. I also picked up-" "Where's their food?" "O-Oh, it's right here." You smile gently when he reaches your line of sight. "I'm just filling Dori's-" "I sent that twenty minutes ago." "I-I know, and I have the bowls right here, just give me-" "Why didn't you do it when I texted you?" "M-Min, it's not a big deal. Look, I have their bowls." "Not a big deal? You're starving them." "Oh come on, Minnie, you're being overdramatic."

You kneel down and set the bowls near the cats before standing up and turning towards your boyfriend. "See? Now they're fed." You sassed, going to walk past him to go to your food when he blocked your path. "Minho, what is wrong with you?" You snapped. He suddenly grabbed your wrists and you whimpered at the tightness. The backbone you gained over time from your childhood was suddenly out the window as fear crept up your spine. "O-Ow, Min, you're hurting me." "I don't care. I asked you to do one simple task and you blew it off."

Tears gathered in your eyes as your thrown back to the one night you didn't do the dishes, too busy trying to finish an important, grade-on-the-line school project, and your dad came home to see the half filled sink. He had grabbed you, dragging you into the kitchen. You complained that he was hurting you and that phrase was uttered before he threw you in front of the sink, you had a bruise on your side for a week.

The tears finally fell as you squeezed your eyes shut. "M-Minho, please stop, I'm sorry I didn't feed them earlier." "Why are you crying? There's no need to be crying, you don't have a reason to cry." He shoved you backwards and you stumble into Soonie's food bowl, spilling his food as he jumps away as another memory flashes, your father said the same thing when you cried after seeing him shove your mother to the ground. You whimper quietly, stuttering as you shrink in on yourself. "I'm sorry, Appa, I'll do better, I'm sorry." Your eyes open to see the food at your feet and you silently kneel down onto both of your knees to clean your mess.

Minho was frozen, mulling over his thoughts before he sighs. He realized what happened, the night prior he slept at the dorms and was so happy he'll get to see you the next day but he had woken up with a nasty headache, fighting through the slight throb in his temples at practice and at the studio. This was his fault, twenty minutes really wasn't a big deal to get mad over but he was tired, annoyed, and in pain, he just wanted you and his babies and when he saw them without food, he just broke. He sighs as he gets on the floor with you, picking up the food with you. When all of it was back in the bowl, you suddenly picked it up and hastily walked back to the kitchen.

Minho's eyes followed you, watching you dump the bowl before pouring new food back into it. "Mn-ie..." He stood when you came back in. A gentle hand on your bicep, he takes the bowl, setting it down for the mewling cat at his feet before placing his other hand on your other arm to turn you towards him. "Jagiya, I'm sorry." He bends his knees to try and look at your eyes, tears gathering but not falling. He sighs again, standing up straight and wrapping his arms around you. He didn't say anything, he just cradled you, rubbing your back as you let the tears fall and soak his hoodie. You could tell he felt bad, gentle kisses placed on the top of your head and a couple on your cheek or hoodie-clad shoulder while he swayed the both of you gently. You take a step to try and push yourself further into his hold, wrapping your arms around his middle and his arms tighten around you. "I love you, Mn...I'm sorry." You sob into his shoulder, burying your face further into his shoulder. "L-Love you, M-Min..."

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷 (635 Words)

You knew Changbin had a bad gym day and you did everything to cheer him up and make him feel better. You made him your noodle recipe from your mom that he absolutely loves, you drew him a warm bath when he texted a small ‘Almost home’. You sent him a quick message saying you love him and can't wait to see him but he didn't reply. Today must've been really bad, hopefully your little set up in your dining room will make him happy.

When Changbin came home, you smiled, finishing up dinner before walking out of the kitchen to greet your boyfriend, but as soon as you reached the entryway of your home, the air shifted and you realized that your Binnie was in a really bad mood as you made your way to the front door. “Hey, Bin.” “Hey.” “I, um, I drew you a bath…a-and I made your favorite recipe from my mom for dinner. It's ready when you finish your bath.” “Thanks.”

You wring your hands together before taking a stuttery inhale. “Y-You okay, Bin? I-Is there anything I can do…for you?” “No, you can't do anything.” “Excuse me?” “You can't do anything.” “Binnie, you don't mean that.” You give a weary smile and hesitant chuckle. “You just might be stressed and tired-” “Now you're suddenly aware of how I’m feeling? How would you know how I’m feeling?” “Bin-” “Stop, just stop.”

He shoves past you, his built shoulder shoving you into the wall and your left hand lands on the wall to stop yourself from colliding with the wall as you turn and watch Changbin walk away. “Bin, hey-” “I just told you to stop! Like I said, you can't do anything, you can't even listen properly.” His voice was rising the more he spoke and he turned back to you, taking slow steps towards you.

“Changbin, stop taking to me like that.” Your eyes grew glossy as you tried to hold in your tears. “Why are you crying? You're so pathetic.” “Changbin!” “Don't yell at me, you don't have a reason to yell at me!” Suddenly he's grabbing your arm and pulling you from the front door entryway to push you into the livingroom. Unfortunately, you managed to trip over the corner of your rug and you landed on your side at the same time your head connected to the side of the coffee table. You yelp in pain, feeling as if you were fifteen again when your dad found out you had a boyfriend, furious that his son was a ‘Weak Fag’ and ‘pathetic’ as you collided with the wall next to the television.

The tears fell and you let out a sob as your head pounded. You reach up to your temple and pull your hand back to find some blood, looking back up to see Changbin still standing there, staring, still angry as if he didn't realize what he just did.

You got up with shaky legs and ran to the bathroom, aiming to patch your wound but the first thing you do is slide down the door with a sob and pull your phone out, calling the first contact that you manage to navigate to. Meanwhile, Changbin tossed his hands up when you ran to the bathroom, amused that you ran away from him, still not aware of what just happened.

A few minutes later, the still unlocked front door was pushed open and he got a small glimpse of Felix rushing to the bathroom before Chan was slamming the door closed and pushing Changbin against the wall. “What the fuck-” “What is wrong with you?!” “What?” “You know he has abuse trauma, why the fuck did you do it?” “What do you mean?” Suddenly, Chan slaps him, and gestures to the room. “Look around, Changbin.” There's a few blood droplets next to the coffee table, staining your messed up rug from when you tripped, Felix trying to get you to open the bathroom door, and on the dining table were dishes ready for dinner. What really brought Changbin to reality was the number two balloon and what looked like a custom banner saying “I love you, Binnie, Happy Two Years.”

Fuck

Your guy's anniversary…

(I'm ending his here but if a pt.2/continuation is wanted, I'll get it to you :)...)

𝓗𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷 (1083 words)

With the couple years you guys have been together, you had finally gained courage to suggest that Hyunjin moved in with you. Not like move in physically, he still lives with the boys at the dorm, I mean you let him claim your guest room to be another art studio for him. It was already your own little work space but you donated the bed, cleaned it up, reorganized, and got new furniture to surprise him with it for your one year anniversary.

Now, most of your home is covered in paintings that he's made. Either permanently or just to get it out of the room. He was with the boys when you were cleaning around, your last room of the day being the studio. You didn't do much, knowing how Hyunjin likes his things where he puts them, the most you did was put blank canvases together in the corner and put things back where you knew they belonged and knew your boy wasn't using the item anymore.

You were moving to your side of the studio when your foot slips slightly and you notice a brush of his. It was still usable but the handle was messy and slight warn and the bristles were beginning to fray. Looking at his desk, you see the other brushes which seem to be in the same state. You didn't think about it to much before smiling, biting your lip to keep the grin from spreading too wide before making your way to a set of drawers next to your desk, a collective catch all and your lucky that he's never opened the bottom drawer which contains new brushes. Black handles with a gold metal holding clean brown bristles, custom made with a little engravings on them. "Forever my prince" and "Hwang No.1". You've had them for a while, waiting for the right moment to give them since whenever you brought up the topic, he'd say the ones he has are still useful but it wasn't about just replacing his brushes, one of the brushes engravings was "Ln Hyunjin." You finally were going to propose.

You collected the old brushes and moved them to the long drawer on your desk to hide them, throw them away later. You then got an unoccupied small white vase and placed the brushes in like a bouquet before writing and small note, a simple 'Just because gift ~Mn <3' that you place next to the vase. You would've given them physically but you had some errands to run with your sibling, that's why you were cleaning, killing time.

After running errands, you came back and heard small muttering in the studio, smiling when you see his shoes before it falls when you see the slight disarray your living room was in. "Damn it, Mn, what did you do with them?" You heard him huff. What did you do? Walking down the hall, you see a few of your new brushes for him and your chest grows tight. "Jinnie?" "Mn! Where are my brushes?" "D-Didn't you see I got you new ones?" "I didn't need new ones, Mn! The ones I had are ones I'm use to." "So because you didn't want to try out the ones I bought you, you throw them on the floor?" "Mn, I didn't need new ones to begin with! If you listened to me, I wouldn't be yelling at you!"

"If you listened to me, I wouldn't have to punish you!" Your dad yelled a day after he said "Listen closely, you don't say a word about what I did to mom, I won't punish you for not cleaning the truck like I told you to do." The same day you gave in and begged your teacher that day at school to help save your family. You just wanted away from that man, you didn't want to be near him anymore but when the cops showed up, he lied, and when they left, let's just say you missed a week of school due to some bruises and your father didn't want to get caught. That's when you realized he only cared about himself and how people see him.

"I-I'm sorry...Y-You always get m-me gifts, I-I was just returning th-the favor..." "Well, you didn't have to. Now where are they?" "I-In m-my desk..." You suddenly felt like a little boy again, you felt small, confined, trapped. You wipe at your eyes with the bottom of your palm, sniffing as you watch him kick the other brushes away. "J-Jin?" "What?" He snapped. "I-I'm sorry, J-Jin-nim, I'm sorry." Chocking back a sob, you step back and run out of the room. "Jin-nim?" Hyunjin mutters to himself confused before his eyes widen, looking at the brushes before the ones in his hands clatter to the floor and he's chasing after you. You were forced to call your father Mister Jin.

Your shoes were missing and your front door was open. "Shit." He quickly slid his shoes on before running out the door. He could see you not that far away as he was quick to catch up to you, wrapping his arms around you to stop you from walking farther. "Mn, Muse, hold on." He turned you around to face him, a hand on the side of your face to gently guide your gaze up to him. "Mn, I'm sorry." "What?" You blinked a couple times before you realized it was Jin. Your Jin. "Hyunjin?" "Yeah, it's okay. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to yell, I didn't mean to get rational, I-I don't know what came over me, I should've just asked." "Y-You didn't even see the brushes...Did you?" "N-Not really...I-I really am sorry."

You reach a hand up to his, leaning into his touch before you remove his hand and walk back home. When you return, to pull him to the studio, picking up the fan brush with his name. "This is your last name." "I know." You pull him further into the studio but he stops to look at the other brushes as you move to your desk drawer, reaching to the back to pull out a ring.

You turn around, admiring Hyunjin for a moment before walking over to him, placing a gentle hand on his elbow to get him to look at you before smiling when his eye catches the ring instead. "Mn..." "I know you...just yelled at me and I have so many problems but...be mine?"

Got carried away with Hyunjin's but I'm a writer who loves details but sorry this took so long. Ended up making this two parts cause I didn't know what to do for the maknae's cause my brain thinks they're too precious to hurt someone but I will think of something. For now, I hope you...enjoyed? It's kinda weird to say I hope you enjoyed this since it's a trauma fic 😬 N E WAYS, I just hope it's okay.

Tagging @lakee-jakee and @belladonna6-6-6 who commented on the original post of me asking if anyone wanted this. It do finally be done :)

#straykids x male #stray kids x male reader #male reader #stray kids #stray kids hyung line #bang chan x male reader #lee know x male reader #changbin x male reader #hyunjin x male reader

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marvelavengerspovs1 · 2 months

Text

Winter Wolf - Chapter 1

Winter Wolf Master List

Warnings: Mentions of violence, use of Y/N

Length: 956

A/N: Hi! Here's Ch. 1 of Winter Wolf, I don't think I'll always put a/n on the chapters because I have most of them already written out. I am going to keep the same schedule that I use on AO3 and only update every 2 weeks!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

You regret waking up this morning. Don't get it wrong, you love working with the Avengers. But you hate the constant bickering and fighting.

"You were supposed to go left!" Sam yells at Bucky.

"How was I supposed to know that!?"

"Because it is in every single action movie!"

"Boys!" You yell at them.

They look at you. "What!?"

"I'm going to let the yelling at me slide, but we are on a mission! Can the bickering wait until after the mission?" You give them a sharp look.

The boys roll their eyes but they continue to take out the oncoming Hydra operatives.

"It's clear on my end." You voice through the comms.

"I think Bucky could use some help." Sam chimes in.

You look over at Bucky when he suddenly gets knocked into an electrical panel. He tries to move his arm but it looks like it was fried.

"I can handle it, Sam!" Bucky yells.

You ignore Bucky and take out the Hydra worker. First a punch to the head, then you swept your leg under his. He falls to the ground and doesn't get back up.

You offer your hand to Bucky but he doesn't take it. "I told you I could take care of myself, Doll."

"I know, but it was fun." You smile at him while he gets up.

Something hits the back of your head and you fall forward. You roll over and see the same Hydra soldier standing above you with a metal pipe in his hand. He grabs your ankles and starts to drag you out of the building.

Before he could do anything else, Bucky tackles him. He punches him a few times before getting up to help you.

"Are you ok, Doll?"

"I told you I had him." You throw his words back at him.

"I know, but it was fun." He smirks at you. "Seriously, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" You touch the back of your head and flinch. "Ok, I may have a concussion or something, but I'm fine."

Bucky smiles at you before he leaves to make sure that the area is secure.

You and the rest of the Avengers finish the mission and head back to the compound in the Quinjet. Once you all get back to your rooms, shower, and get some fresh clothes, Tony calls you all in for a meeting.

"Good job tonight team."

"It would have gone better if Y/N didn't almost get kidnapped." Bucky looks at you.

You snort. "You're one to talk. Your arm short-circuited and I had to go save your ass."

Sam laughs. "She has a point, Buck."

Bucky looks at Sam. "Don't call me that."

"But Steve calls you that." Sam points at Steve who is sitting in the corner of the room.

"I've known him since we were kids." Bucky rolls his eyes at Sam before looking at you. "But all jokes aside, you did really well Y/N. You're even getting better at combat."

"Of course she is." Natasha gets up from her seat to stand next to you. She wraps her arm around your neck with a smile. "I'm training her."

"Alright. We still have some more missions to go on, but for now, we're done for the week." Tony says. You look at your phone and realize that it's Thursday. "We'll have a party tomorrow night and then you guys can take the weekend off. I'm having Friday get some last-minute details for the oncoming missions."

Tony dismisses the team and you all head to your rooms. You get in the elevator with Steve, Bucky, and Sam. They were all going to play a game of pool on the floor above yours.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" Steve asks you.

"Oh, I think I'm going to go see a movie."

"With your secret boyfriend?" Sam asks.

"Yes, with the secret boyfriend." You laugh.

You have been working with the Avengers for years but you have refused to disclose your romantic relationships with them. They mean well, but they become overprotective to the point that a relationship is impossible without them tagging along. The only time they knew about a boyfriend was when you first joined 5 years ago.

You had already been dating Jackson for a couple of months before you were recruited into the Avengers. Almost instantly they drove him away. Whenever Jackson would come around, the group wouldn't leave you guys alone. Thor would put Mjölnir on Jackson's things, knowing the mortal would not be able to do anything about it. Steve would try to be nice but he would just end up being awkward. Tony would just be... well, Tony. Natasha and Clint would be nice but gossip loud enough for Jackson to hear. Similar to Tony, Sam would just be himself. Bucky would always be in his room but when he wasn’t, he would be brooding in the corner of the room and make Jackson feel uncomfortable. The only people who didn't do anything were Wanda, Vision, and Bruce.

"So what will you guys be seeing?" Steve asks you.

"Probably an action movie," Sam laughs at his own innuendo.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You roll your eyes. “We’ll probably watch a comfort movie because it’s been a long week.”

“Oh, I loved Snow White!” Steve smiles at Bucky. “Do you remember when we first saw it?”

“You mean when we snuck into the movie theater and got kicked out almost immediately?”

“Captain America got kicked out of a movie theater?!” Sam asks excitedly.

You roll your eyes at them and the elevator opens to your floor.

"I'll see you, boys, later." And with that, you walk out of the elevator.

#avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

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