#raise your hand if you wanna go back to the good old fandom days

[sinsofbeauty]

Red Stained Sunflower Pt. 3

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Pet Names, Suggestive Nsfw content, Cigarette mention/usage, SMUT!!, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected (Stay safe), slight choking, and more but I don’t wanna spoil the fun ;3

Requested?: Yeeee!!!

Overview: If the events that happened the night before weren't enough, then tonight sure as hell would be. After an awkward encounter, you find yourself alone with the man who has such a hold on you. Talking and playing around won’t compare to what you got yourself into tonight.

A/n: This is the last part of this little series!! If you would like to see more Johnny feel free to send me an ask/request! I got a couple in my inbox so I’ll be working on those! Johnny’s a little more soft but can be a bit aggressive in this one so if ya aint feeling it DNI!!

This chapter contains written NSFW content. Minors are advised to not interact!! Enjoy!

Red Stained Sunflower Pt.1 - Red Stained Sunflower Pt.2

You weren't prepared for really visiting the Slaughter home the next day. Your heart pumped strangely after Johnny left last night with his confident demeanor and witty remarks. You couldn't sleep all night from it. The man’s scent had still lingered in your room, especially on your bed where he decided to make himself comfortable. You hated him for that. You loved the thought of him but hated that he was constantly on your mind.

Now you were on your way to meet the man, telling your father that you would be at Maria’s for a bit. Lying, so that you could see the trouble that dipped so far into your heart. Walking along the dirt road in your favorite sundress and a small bag, you decided to go through the front instead of the back way close to the gardens like last time. It probably would be easier since it was getting late, the sun coming close to the horizon. 

You hurried your steps as your feet silently patted on the porch, before raising your hand to knock on the door. Your hand was mere centimeters away but suddenly stopped when you heard commotion coming from the other side. And it didn’t sound good either…

“Ya’ keep leavin’ without a trace and don’t tell nobody! The hell ya’ goin’ off to?!”

You carefully pushed your ear to the door to hear if anyone was nearby. If you can recall his name, it sounded like Drayton. The older gentleman who occasionally went by the name Cook among some members of the family. Given that he didn't seem to like your presence, you didn't actually talk to him all that much. When you laugh with Bubba and Nubbins, you may receive sidelong looks or little scoffs from the kitchen. He appeared agitated, and was questioning the person who had turned his mood so sour.

“That’s none of yer damn business, old man.” 

Oh… that’s who was getting interrogated. Johnny. What they were saying appeared to grab your attention, even though it shouldn't have startled you as much as it did. 

“It’s that girl again ain’t it? Ya’ keep goin’ out and followin’ ‘er like a gosh darn puppy!” Drayton had persisted in reprimanding Johnny, his aging voice hoarse with annoyance. “What’s so special ‘bout ‘er hm? She can’t do nothin’ for ya’-“

“Watch yer tone! Before ya’ start ta’ have a real problem on yer hands.”

Drayton and Johnny both appeared to be furious, but Johnny's stance was clearly more aggressive. Given that the older man made a comment regarding other girls, you weren't sure if they were talking about you or not. Your heart briefly ached as a result. You felt a tiny bit envious when you imagined Johnny with someone else. As you refocused on the exchanged words, you briefly dared to blink. 

“Calm ya’self Johnny!” Your ears twitch to the sound of Sissy’s voice. 

“Get off a me!” He growls, sudden footsteps approaching closer the door. “Yer quick ta’ start pointin’ fingers. Do I need ta’ remind ya’ how long ya’ left us fa’?”

“Don’t chu start yappin’ at me! Ya’ know what I needed ta’ do-“

“And I know what I’m doin’, so quit yer barkin!” 

You became aware that you were still listening in as footsteps began to move dangerously towards the door. You immediately moved away from the porch, to the side of the house where the bushes encumbered beneath the window. Bubba and Nubbins emerge from the door moments later once it had opened. You see from the bushes as the two enter the white pickup truck's back bay, with Sissy trailing behind them and moving toward the passenger-side door. Johnny is furiously flailing his arms behind Drayton as the older man stumbles out of the house.

When Johnny came closer, Drayton spun around and pointed a finger in his face as the younger man's brows furrowed. “She’s makin’ ya’ weak boy. Weak! And if I have ta’ tell ya’ ta’ leave ‘er alone again-!”

“What are ya’ so afraid of ol’ man?” The man’s eyelids lower in suspicion. “I don’t have ta’ explain anythin’ ta’ anybody, and I ain’t gonna let ya’ boss me ‘round like a kid.”

“So naive, wait until ya’ mother hears about this,” Cook chuckles, hopping into the truck. “Ya’ care ‘bout ‘er more than ya’ care ‘bout yer own family. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, once she realizes what you are, you’ll treat ‘em like the rest once she tries ta’ leave.” 

As you saw Drayton shut the door to the truck, his remarks caused your stomach to churn, giving you anxiety-filled butterflies. The vehicle had been started, and the engine was roaring as it backed into the driveway. Once it was turned around it drove off, leaving Johnny there speechless and heated as ever. You’ve never seen him so upset, so… filled with anger. He tightened his jaw and balled his fists into the palms of his hands, a vein protruding from the side of his temple. He looked like he could kill someone, right then and there. After a period of silence, he took a long breath in and let it out harshly.

“Yer terrible at hidin’.” 

As Johnny's statement rang across the air, your heart leaped and your eyes widened. Before turning around, he had let out an abrasive huff while his tongue prodded at the insides of his cheeks. “Ya’ can stop hidin’ darlin.” He only moves a few steps before his eyes and boots come to a complete stop on the ground. He was perceptive, and that was well noted. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his dark hair as his demeanor abruptly changed. “Come oooon, I know yer out here.”

Although you were uneasy, there was no use continuing to hide now that he had exposed you. A few seconds later, you emerged from the bushes, and Johnny's eyes shot open to meet yours. His chocolate brown eyes locked with yours at that very instant, and you could feel the rage and shame simmering behind them. With the broad grin that covered his face, he did a great job of hiding it. 

“How did you know I was here?” You asked, making him shrug his shoulders. “Could see yer footprints. They moved that way unlike the others,” His fingers pointed down to the ground, making you smirk and shake your head slightly. “Didn’t think ya’d be ‘ere so soon. Hell, thought ya’d go on and ditch me again~.” 

“Well… I uh, was thinking about it. After hearing all that.”

The smile on Johnny’s face faded as quick as it came, tilting his head slightly with the squint of his eyes. “How much did ya’ ‘ear?” He asked, stuffing his hands in his back pockets.

You fiddled with the fabric of your sundress, debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it just happened to be a bad time and you didn’t want to get caught knowing they were talking about you. It was reasonable, but then again… maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to lie right in Johnny’s face.

“Enough…” You said, making the man turn his head away. “I know Drayton didn’t like me that much but not as… much as I thought.”

Johnny shook his head, a chuckle coming from his mouth. “Heh, yeah. I got some explainin’ ta’ do don’t I?” The man had lifted his arm, hand gesturing to you as he began to approach. “Walk wit’ me?”

He smiles once again at your head nod when he approaches. He took hold of your shoulders and pulled you along with him as the two of you moved to the side of the house. “So… about that explaining?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m gettin’ to it.” Johnny rolled his eyes playfully, removing his arm from you to run his fingers through his hair again. “So impatient. Next thing I know yer gonna be bossin’ me ‘round!”

“Thought you didn’t like being told what to do.” You say, his eyes narrowing to stare at you in a playful side eye. 

“I don’t.” His voice cracks with excitement, making you giggle in response. 

Both of you had stopped, and Johnny had positioned himself on a car's damaged hood. He had rested against it, his arms crossed, and his head tilted to the side. The male had observed as your eyes silently absorbed the magnificence of the meadows. You were patiently waiting for him to resume speaking, but the breathtaking scenery fully captured your attention. The scene of the sunflowers gently colored by the sun's rays as they sway side to side in the wind. The man behind you, who had hummed at the sight, was the only one who managed to divert your attention away from the view.

Your head turns, staring Johnny with his half lidded eyes. “I should’ve brought my camera.” 

“Why didn’t you?”

“Forgot. I was so busy getting ready that I left it on my dresser.” You had fumbled through your bag in your hip, looking into it for something. 

“Got all dolled up just fa’ me? Ya’ shouldn’t have~.” Johnny was… staring a lot, and it was awfully distracting. You don’t even remember what it was that you were looking for. 

“Oh shut up.” You say, putting your bag away to your hip. “Come up with that explanation yet?”

Johnny sighed and rubbed the side of his stubbled cheek as another smile appeared on his face. “What do ya’ wanna know?”

There were many things you wished to know. Why Drayton didn't like you, whether his family disapproved of you, whether he is seeing someone else, and whatever part of him the older man was referring to. There was just a lot on the table, and you didn't have much time to gather everything from him given how soon the sun would set. “Has Drayton always had something against me?”

“Doesn’t like any girl I bring home,” Johnny explained. “Says it’s a distraction. Don’t know what the problem is when I can handle myself.” 

“Maybe he’s just worried about you?”

“Should worry ‘bout his damn self.” Johnny rolled his eyes at that.

“Okay,” You walk over to him and hop onto the hood of the car to take a seat. “Does the rest of your family… not like me?”

Johnny didn’t say anything for a moment, averting his eyes away from you as he thought about it. The man looked up at the sky, nodding his head slightly. “I… don’t really know.” He finally responded. “Sissy has her suspicions. Nubbins doesn’t really care, I know big boy likes ya’ a lot.” 

“Who Bubba?” 

“Yeaaah,” His grin starts to appear again. “He’s like a kid, likes it when ya’ spend time with ‘im. Yer much nicer than the rest of us.” 

Well that was good to know at least. You smile at that, nodding your head to the thought. “I’m glad that he likes it when I’m around. He’s like a puppy, so energetic when he’s happy. Speaking of-“

“Oh god,” Johnny sighs out loudly. “Don’t— Don’t listen to anythin’ he said beginnin’ with that!” 

“So you follow me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny groans out loud, shaking his head. “I don’t follow ya’!”

“What about the skatin’ rink?” 

“That was one time!” Johnny lifted his arms up as he exaggerated his lies. “That’s cause I wanted ta’ know what ya’s been doin’.”

“I mean you did break into my house,” You teased, making him huff in irritation. “Do you usually just go into places whenever you feel like it?”

The man cracked a bit, chuckling before shaking his head at you. “Breakin’ inta’ houses ain’t my usual thing. I like bein’ more… direct. If that’s whatcha call it.” Johnny shook his shoulders at the thoughts, giving the question more attention than he probably intended. “Maybe… I’ve seen ya’ a couple times in town.” 

“Sneaky thing aren’t you~.”

“Indeed I am~,” He realized right away that you were making fun of him. After pushing himself off the hood, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of crumpled smokes. 

“You’re not gonna smoke are you?” You ask with your eyebrows raised. “Those are bad y’know.”

“So nosey,” Johnny pulls out a cigarette and stuffs it into the side of his mouth. “Yer stressin’ me out with all these questions.”

“I can ask more.”

“Shut up.”

His grin seemed to morph into a naughty one when you were about to speak back to him. The chuckle that rumbled in his throat caused him to avert his eyes. He was aware of what you were about to say, and unlike yesterday, you were all by yourself with him. He smirked triumphantly and drew the lighter from his other pocket as you forced your mouth shut. However, you got an idea and got up off the car hood. You approach Johnny and snatch the cigarette out of his mouth. His expression was priceless and made you laugh out loud. 

“Uhm…hey?” He says reaching for the cigarette before you pull it back. He licks his lips with a sly grin, nodding his head. “Ohhh, okay. So that’s what we’re doin’ hm?”

“Maybe,” You reply. “Yer funny, now give it back before I take it.”

You stood there idly, not listening to a single word Johnny said. Johnny had taken that moment of silence to look over you, before his hand rushed to grab yours. It caught you off guard, your wrist with the cigarette being taken as he pulled you towards him. The front of your body collides with his, a small grunt coming from you. Looking up at the man your eyes widen. Cheeks flushed, you feel his other hand snake around your lower back to keep you there. Oh dear… what did you just get yourself into? “Tsk tsk. Yer playin’ a dangerous game here sweetheart.” Every word in Johnny's voice is dripping with seduction, like a warning sign. “If that’s whatcha wanna do, I’m all up fa’ the challenge~.” Johnny takes the cigarette from your hand and sticks it back in his mouth. What an absolute tease. The way your body effortlessly melted into him gave the man the confidence that he could get away with it. “What~? Wish I did somethin’ else wit’ ma’ mouth?” 

“If you wanted to, I’m sure you would have.” You say narrowing your eyes. 

“Oh really?” Johnny says, his hand behind your back moving to place itself on your abdomen. He moved you backwards, your hands coming in contact with the hood of the vehicle you sat on earlier. “What makes ya’ think I won’t?”

“I don’t know, maybe you do it to all your other little girlfriends.”

Your statement made Johnny laugh, having to take the smoke out of his mouth before it fell out. “Awww ya’ heard that too? Jealous~?” He made your lips purse, your eyes moving away to the side of you. “I’ll amuse ya’, so how ‘bout this. Yer the only one I’ve been talkin’ to fa’ a while.”

You look back up at Johnny, who had stuffed the cigarette back in its little box. “So amused,” You roll your eyes, trying to remove yourself away from Johnny but all he did was stand in your way. He was so close to you, that he practically had you pinned against the car and him. 

“Lookin’ a lil’ sour there honey.” He teased, the cigarette box being placed back in his pocket. “Still jealous~?”

“N-No…” You stammered, swallowing thickly when you tried to look away.

Johnny chuckles as he detects your lies. He was making you so anxious and driving you mad by imagining the other women he's seen. He was undeniably so close to your body that you would bump into him if you even attempted to move. His hands, which were still protected by his grime-stained gloves, advanced to your waist. When his face got close to yours, it made you hold your breath and your heart race.

“Can’t fool me darlin’, yer a terrible liar too.” His nose brushes against yours before he pulls his head back again. “I promise~, yer the only one I got eyes on.” Before you feel them move to your hips, the hold on your waist becomes tighter. You were raised back onto the car's hood a short while later. Johnny reached out and traced his fingertips along your exposed thighs without pausing. “Yer the only one I want.”

Once more, his face approaches yours, but this time he maintains his distance. The once-orange sky was beginning to turn dark, misty blue as the sun dropped below the horizon in the distance. The view in front of you now... drew you in more than ever, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him. Your head subconsciously turned in his direction as quiet breaths filled the chilly air in the silence. 

“I want you too…” You say quietly, making the man in front of you grin.

“Hm?” He hums, moving himself in between your legs. “Ya’ want me?”

The man takes one moment to remove his gloves while you nod your head. He places them beside you, grabs your legs, hooks them around his waist, then grabs your hips. 

“All of me?” 

Your hands that had been resting on the hood, came and cupped the sides of his cheeks. “Yes,” You reply. “I want all of you, Johnny.” 

“Ya’ sure?” The male wasn’t hesitant, he just knew what both of you were going to get into. You knew this yourself, and you nodded once more. “Good, cause I’mma keep ya’ aaaaall to myself~.” 

The man's lips had touched yours at that point. Your entire body experienced waves of arousal as well as butterflies throughout your stomach. His touch was felt, and the satisfaction from his lips lingered on your own. It appeared as though he was directing you through every step due to the way they moved so perfectly alongside yours. He tasted metallic and minty, with a hint of tobacco. 

He pulled back from the kiss as his bare hands took hold of the hem of your sundress and raised it just a bit. As he moved from your earlobe to the side of your neck, his lips made contact with your jaw. You start to gasp softly as Johnny grazes your neck with his teeth and nibbles on your tender flesh. He leaned down to your collarbone and softly sucked on the skin there, creating a small hickey in the process. A reminder of what was his.

“Drivin’ me crazy sweet pea,” He mumbled in the crook of your neck, his calloused hands massaging the top of your thighs. The more he dragged on his throbbing need for you, the more vigorously he kneaded them. “Might not be able ta’ hol’ back much longer.”

Your legs are still around Johnny's waist as he pulls away from you, but you move your eyes. They proceeded on to the growth that pressed up against his jeans and the obvious indent of his own erection in a sizable tent. You shiver at the sight.

“Gettin’ cold?” He asks, the man lifting you from the car hood.

“A little,” You half admit, your hands hanging onto his shoulders. “Didn’t think you’d care much.”

Johnny chuckles as he lowers you and unlocks the car door. The man poked his head inside and looked around as it rustled. The back window and the opposite side of the car were covered in sunflowers, and the only damage it appeared to have was a couple rips in the back seats. He moves and motions for you to enter with his hand. A hefty slap on the ass greets you as you crawl inside after taking the bag off your shoulder and throwing it within. You yelp as you turn to face Johnny, who dove with a grin on his face. 

Before climbing on top of you, he crept into the car and shut the door behind him. The man lowered his head back to your face as your back pressed up against the seat cushions and your head leaned forward. “I’ll warm ya’ up real good baby girl,” He adds as he presses his hands firmly on your lovely outfit. He raises it, revealing your (color) underwear, and wraps his fingers around them. 

Once he begins pushing the thin cloth up to your thighs, his lips come into touch with yours. As it slides down your ankles, he grabs them, taking them off your legs. He hums and pulls away from the kiss as you move your dress subtly with your hands to cover any views he might have.

“Hidin’ from me?” Your head slams against the seat as his enormous hand grabs both of your wrists and moves you lower with his other hand. He raises the clothing up to reveal you while pinning your arms above your head. As a result of Johnny's position, your legs were unable to even close completely, so he only huffed amusedly as you attempted. “Be a good girl and I might be gentle.” 

“You better be gentle,” You blurt out loud, earning a hefty laugh from Johnny.

“Riiiight, forget yer still a virgin~.” He sees you pucker your lips, Johnny taking the opportunity to peck them, making you groan. “Take this off will ya’? I wanna see everythin’.”

As you sit up to remove your sundress, Johnny draws back as you blink at him before nodding. You slipped your flats to the ground, nervously staring at Johnny as your sundress joined the pair of shoes. He had taken off his torn-up, black muscle shirt as you were doing this. The muscles you previously noticed were considerably more impressive up close. The scars, the little chest hair, and the flexed appearance of his arms. God, just looking at him made your pussy throb.

With such precision, he swiftly tossed his belt on the ground. Johnny’s boots were kicked off soon after, his jeans going down his legs and off his ankles. “God… jus’ look at ya’…” The man was in awe, his cock so strained that the boxers it held were pleading for release. He spread your legs open, looking down at you as he took in every inch of your body with his eyes. 

Johnny gives you another kiss, this time with his lips flowing against yours and his hands encircling you. He releases the clip from your bra, allowing it to fall as you adjust it to the side. The man was gentle, even attentive. His fingers stroked over you as if you were a work of art. A canvas that he was so tempted to ruin yet was too delicate to damage.

“Mmhn… I want you… Johnny…” Your words were said between kisses, the ones that got more rough with every passing moment.

Johnny pulls back, his pants evident while his lust for you grew immensely. “Yeah?” His voice is low, deep with pure emotion. 

You can feel his fingers rubbing against the slit in your pussy at that very instant. They have an unfamiliar, somewhat unusual feel about it that makes you flinch with curiosity. Before shutting, your eyes lock onto his, and as he rubs his thumb on your clit, you let out a gasp. Oh he knew what he was doing. This wasn’t his first rodeo. 

His eyes dart between you and your aching cunt as the pad of his thumb experimentally strokes your clit. You covered your face in embarrassment at the quiet grunts and tiny moans you let out. But Johnny appeared to enjoy it. How your confidence and shyness seem to win his favor equally. The unintentional bucking of your hips to increase your pleasure. 

“So wet fa’ me darlin’~,” Johnny purrs, his hand adjusting itself. “I could jus’…”

“Ahh~!”

With his words, Johnny’s finger enters your pussy. Your back begins to sag, and you whimper. The man does this while touching your breasts with his free hand and kissing them. You felt dizzy with excitement as he pinched your nipples and took them between his teeth. Your body burned at his touch and you wanted more. 

Your body tensed and jerked in response to the excitement that shot through your abdomen, his finger began curling in the most sensitive parts. Johnny was relentless, making sure that none of his actions left you even the tiniest bit untouched. That was until he slipped in another into your tight hole. This time it felt uncomfortable, and you expressed that feeling too.

“E-Eh… it hurts…” You whine softly, your hands gripping on Johnny’s biceps.

“I know baby,” He says, sending a kiss to your jaw. “Need ta’ stretch ya’ out fa’ me.”

You were speechless when you considered that Johnny was bigger than his fingers. Your hand, let alone your fingers, were much smaller than his. The discomfort you are experiencing right now undoubtedly pales in comparison to what you saw—er, see—in his boxers. He appeared to be on the larger side. Jesus…

Your face twitches as you notice him starting to up his pace. As his motions intensify, the buildup in your abdomen begins to expand and keeps growing. He was skilled with his hands, and within minutes you were on the verge of bursting. As your pussy throbs on his digits, the space between your walls gets smaller as he stares at you with half-lidded eyes. He hums as a result of your hold on his biceps, which also serves as a visual cue that you are close.

“J-John-ny… ah~ s-slow down…” You whine out, your words not phasing him in the slightest. The discomfort had faded to pleasure, your head hitting the window as your legs started to shake.

Curling his fingers he presses against your g-spot, making you squeal. He was merciless, fucking you with his fingers alone made you dizzy. “Thought about this all fucking day,” He growls, his voice cracking with lust. “Always on ma’ damn mind… fuck~, wanna make ya’ cum darlin’.”

“I… wanna cum.” 

Johnny looks at you with a grin, his head tilting. “Ya’ wanna cum fa’ me baby?”

He nods slightly in response to your head nod. The man had corrected himself, lowering his body and bringing his face to your pussy. You tighten up as a new feeling begins abruptly, your eyes widening. Johnny places his tongue on the swollen bud of your genitalia, the muscle twitching as he started lapping at it. While his fingers occupy the space within, he suctions and pleases you with his lips. The sensation of lowering your hands and grabbing Johnny's hair in your fingers was irresistible. 

“Mmhn~! Johnny… fuck! J-Johnny ple-ase!” 

Johnny had been humming along to your moans as they reverberated around the vehicle. Your stomach's coil finally burst, your eyes clamped shut, and your back arched in ecstasy. As he holds you down, Johnny pulls his fingers out of your cunt and grabs your hips with both of his hands. Your climax is coursing through your body as he continues to devour your pussy. His hair was being held in place by your hands so tightly that you worried you may rip it out. Your thighs were gripping the sides of his head as if you were going to break his skull.

“N-No! Waitwaitwait– Johnny!!”

As his mouth violently began sucking on your clit, you begged him to stop. The man, however, remained still, and you then experienced a new feeling. Your cunt gushes, Johnny groaning before quickly removing his face away from your sensitive core. Your grip on his dark hair, which had been locked in your fingers, loosened as you panted. His hands holding onto your hips relaxed while he chuckled. The man licked his lips and then ran his tongue against his teeth as he raised himself to his knees, which kept him on the seat's cushions. You stare at him in the hot atmosphere of a cool night. His chin down to his chest was slickly covered in your juices, he wore it like a medal as it glistened on his skin. A giggle escaped his thin lips as he raised his hand to wipe his face. “Did I just–”

“Squirt all over me? Yes, yes you did~.”

You blushed madly, setting a hand over your mouth and looking away from him. “I… didn’t know I could do that.”

Johnny grinned, “These hands work wonders darlin’.” He ran his hand over your pussy again before patting it, making you jolt at his soft motions.

“Eh– Ah! H-Hey! I’m still sensitive...” You whined.

“Oh I know,” Johnny said, pulling the hem of his boxers down. His cock emerged from that piece of clothing after it had fallen. Although the image had your mouth watering, you were uneasy about having that inside of you. “Bein’ sensitive is the bes’ part. Yer gonna be screamin’ ma’ name as I fuck ya’ senseless~.” You gasp when Johnny moves in between your legs, pulling them apart as he grips his twitching cock. He pumps it slowly, taking a moment to coat your juices on his hard length. Moments later, he lines himself up with your hole, running the loose strands of his now messy hair back.

“You don’t need me to do anything? I mean– I can… you know…” You tried to find the right words, but feeling the head of his cock press against you distracted your thoughts. “Nah, we’ll get ta’ that some otha’ time.” He says, leaning down to you. “I jus’ wanna be inside ya’~.”

His lips make contact with yours, and the sudden penetration makes you tense up immediately. You try to release, but the more he pushes the more pain surged through your lower body. When he pulls back from you, he stares into your eyes, a sudden wickedness appearing in his own. All of a sudden he bucks his hips forward, his mouth opening agape when his full length is inside of you. You whimper out in pain and pleasure. You felt so full that your walls could only squeeze around him, and so sensitive that a simple adjustment made you groan with pleasure. “A… warning would’ve been nice.” You glare at him, the man taking your body and pulling you back down to lay on the cushions. “Oops~.” He purrs, a small moan coming from his throat. Johnny takes your legs and wraps them around his waist again. “Want me ta’ go slow?”

“So considerate,” You say, watching as the man comes down to you. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” 

The man pulls his hips back before slamming back into you, your eyes widening at the feeling. A shocked gasp wakens the night, and Johnny continues to fuck you like the man he is. Hard, deep, thrusts that send your toes curling, and your hands to dig into his back that you held onto for dear life. The jolts of pure pleasure send you into a state of ecstasy, your mouth sending out nothing but pure, uncontrollable moans. 

“God baby— fuck~! Yer clampin’ on me— shit— uh~.” Johnny moans at you, his eyes watching every single detail of how your body craves him. “All mine… all fuckin’ mine— god!”

His head dips to your neck, placing firm kisses as his hand grip the sides of your ass. He lifts you up slightly, his cock beginning to drill into your tight pussy. 

“AHH~!! Ohmygodohmygod~!!” Your voice sounded so beautiful, getting louder every moment he bucked his hips into you. 

Johnny mutters under his breath, stopping and pulling his cock out from you. “Turn around baby,” He motions, watching as you quickly get on your hands and knees. You wiggle your ass, making him tap one of the cheeks teasingly. “Fuckin’ tease.” 

“Your the one who stopped when it was getting good.” You roll your eyes.

He scoffed, slapping your ass in which made you jump. “Ass up ya’ little shit.”

You smile, arching your back as he positions himself against you once more. While Johnny stuffs his cock back inside of you, you chuckle as you feel both of his hands on your ass. Oh, if he wasn't ramming into you before, he sure was doing it now. This position made things a lot easier for him to access. In the deepest places, most sensitive areas, as soon as he hit that sweet spot that’s all he ever did. 

“Tryna get away~?” He grips your hips as you try to pull yourself away, pulling you back on his cock. You squeal, your head shoving itself down in the cushion of the seat while your legs shake tremendously. “Ahhh~ fuck yer tightenin’.”

“Feels s’ good— ah— fuckfuck mmhn~!” 

“Say it again,” Johnny bends down slightly to take your neck into his hand. “Fuckin’ say it again!”

Tears brim in your eyes as his thrusts make your stomach clench, your eyes practically rolling back into your skull. “It feels good!! AHH~!! You feel so good Johnny!!”

“That’s right love, take it~ Take it~!”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train as your body trembles. As Johnny continues to abuse your g-spot, you scream, your delightful climax intensifying to the point where tears are streaming down your face. As the man squeezed your neck, the shortage of oxygen caused you to start seeing stars as you gushed once more on him. Your voice breaks when he lets go of you, and your head is fuzzy as he fucks you for the remainder of your climax. 

His low murmurs and grunts escalate to become louder growls and moans. He gave you a hard slap on the ass and grasped it tightly. Both cheeks took turns getting reddened handprints. The man's thrusts were more eager, and he was grinning broadly. 

“I fuckin’ needed this— uh~ fuck I needed you~ Doin— mhm~ this ta’ me~…” Johnny threw his head back, taking in his own pleasure. The man was close to cumming, his thrusts starting to become sloppier than they were before. “I’m so close… Y/n, say my name.”

“Johnny…“ Your brain was mush, barely being able to comprehend what you had heard.

He slaps your ass, hard, making you yelp in surprise. “Louder~.”

“Johnny!” You moan louder.

Another firm slap, making you whimper out. “Scream my fuckin’ name~!” He positions himself, his cock pulling out to the tip before thrusting back in. 

“AH~! Johnny— FUCK~!” You scream out, the continuous jerk of his hips driving you wild. “Johnnyjohnnyjohnny— ohh my— MMHN~! JOHNNYYY~!!!”

“That’s… fuckin’… ohh~ fuck~  ha— ah ahhhh~.” 

Johnny stops moving and embraces your cunt with his pulsing cock. His hot cum shoots ribbons into your pussy, coating the walls of your womb with his thick sperm. His pants were just as heavy as yours, and the air in the car smelled strongly of sex. Your head turns to look back at him only to realize he had leaned down, his hand rubbing the small of your back as he huffed. Both of you stayed silent for a while, admiring each other, which was a little different for Johnny.

“You okay?” He asks breaking the airs silence, making you smile again.

“Yeah… just really hot.”

Johnny grinned and drew his cock away from you. Both of you sigh as the feeling suddenly slips away. He settles down and observes while you prepare to follow suit. When he notices you struggling, he smiles before grabbing your arm and bringing you near to him. “C’mere.” 

You move over to him, the side of your body pressing against his. Your entire body relaxes in his arm as your head lays against him, his body radiating a warm but comforting heat. Being around him made you feel safe… oddly enough. Though god, did your lower body throb like a mother fucker.

“Still gonna go with pretty boy on Friday?” His question lingered in the air for a few seconds before you turned your head to look at him. 

“I already canceled that,” You say, shrugging your shoulders. “I have plans.”

“So you do hm?” He says with a smirk. “And what are your plans?”

Johnny understood what you meant after only seeing you grin. He gave you one back, truly pleased with your choice. His expression caused your heart to melt. He knew he had you, he claimed you as his before you even knew it. Can he… really say that this is love? Is this how it actually felt? Like the others, you were drawn in, but there was something special about it. You were the one person he really desired and cared about. The mark of his prey had been on you, his print now painted red on your body. His little red stained sunflower. 

His, and his only.

@optimsluv @chernayawidow @yixxes @marriedtoeddie @iorbit @yoong1c0re @thedollmakerkai

Users striked out cannot be tagged

#johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny tcm #eventual smut #suggestive content #texas chainsaw game #x reader #tcm game #tcm smut #johnny slaughter smut #smut

[moonstruckme]

Hello my fave lovely! Could I request a small something about teacher reader and Stevie coming to visit her classroom(maybe he’s a teacher too and they teach upper elementary school 9-10 year olds?)

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting! I decided to make Steve a PE coach instead of a teacher, hope that's alright :)

(slightly terrified some big mouth fandom I don't know about is gonna find this because "Coach Steve," but I'm taking that risk)

coach!Steve x teacher!reader ♡ 573 words

The projector always puts the kids to sleep, but you’re trying to keep them alert enough to retain what an object noun is when there’s a knock at your door. It opens, and Steve’s head pokes through. 

Immediately, your kids are wide awake. 

“Coach H! Coach H!” Their voices are bulldozing over each other, competing for Steve’s attention. “Hi Coach H!”

“Hey guys.” Steve grins at them, unphased by the effects of his celebrity. “Can I borrow Miss Y/N for a sec?”

The kids know well enough that it’s not a question for them, and they look to you as you put down your dry marker, giving them all a stern look. “I’ll be right outside this door,” you warn them. “If I hear any chatter, it better be about grammar.” 

Of course, no sooner do you close the door behind you than a buzz of unapproved chatter starts up in the classroom. You ignore it. Steve’s hands find your shoulders, steering you away from the classroom window and then pressing you against the wall with the force of his kiss. 

“Stevie!” you chide, breaking away and looking around you in alarm. Thankfully, the hallway seems empty. 

“I’ll be right outside this door,” he croons in a girlish imitation of your voice. “You’re so tough with them, babe.” 

“I have to be,” you reply. “They’d walk all over me otherwise.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Otherwise, huh? So that wasn’t you I saw trading lunches with Maggie the other day because she didn’t want her peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

You flush. “I like peanut butter and jelly.” 

Steve grins, kissing your warm cheek. “My sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes at him as if he’s more annoying than endearing (you both know better, but the fun’s in the act). “What’re you doing here?” you ask him, crossing your arms. “You know how you rile them up when you come by. It’s gonna take me forever to get them back on task.” 

“Well first of all, I wanted to see you, didn’t realize that was a crime,” Steve says, grinning when you roll your eyes again, with even less feeling this time. He’s rubbing his hands up and down your arms, and soon he’s worked your hands free and is holding one in each of his. “And also, the second graders are testing today, so they’re not coming to PE. I’ll be free during your lunch.” 

You blink. “They’re having the second graders skip PE for testing? They’re going to be bouncing off the walls.” 

Steve shrugs. “Maybe they’re giving them extra recess after or something. I dunno, they didn’t ask me about it.” He squeezes your hands. “So, lunch.” A suave smile spreads across his face, and you know it’s meant as a joke but your knees go a bit wobbly anyway. “Wanna sit together?”

You bite your lip, but it’s useless; your smile can’t be contained. “Sounds good, handsome. My classroom? Eleven thirty?”

“It’s a date.” Steve leans forward again, and this time you oblige him, the kiss short but sweet enough to rot your teeth. “Okay, I’ve got fifth grade in five,” he says, letting go of your hands and walking backwards down the hallway. “Tell your kids I said to chill out.” 

“That’ll only make it worse,” you reply, laughing. “See you at lunch, Stevie.” 

He grins as he pushes the door open with his back, sunlight flooding the hallway. 

#coach!steve harrington #steve harrington au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x self insert #steve harrington #teacher!reader #steve harrington x teacher!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things au #stranger things fandom

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Five Little Ducks

Fandom: DC Comics, Batman

Summary: Bruce finds a magically de-aged Jason.

Chapters: 4/13

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Zatanna Zatara

Additional Tags: De-Aged Jason Todd, Magic, Babysitting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, POV Third Person, Bruce Wayne is Not Okay, Bruce Wayne Tries, Jason Todd Has Issues, Childhood Trauma

Chapter Four: Tag! You're It!

Bruce woke up to a punch in the nose and Jason screaming. "Where am I?" Jason asked. He was slightly taller, and his eyes were dark.

Bruce jumped out of bed, his eyes watering involuntarily at the force of the blow. "Jason-."

"Where am I?" Jason screamed.

He was older. Bruce could see a difference. Dick ran into the room, and Jason backed away from them, snatching the closest thing to him to use as a weapon. "Jason, you're not in any danger," Dick explained.

Jason burst into tears. "How did I get here? I was home with my dad," Jason cried, "I want my dad. He's gonna-. How did I get here? How do you know my name?" Jason ran a hand through his hair. "I was at home with my dad, and we played-. We were playing a game." Jason gasped for air. "And then I woke up next to him! And who are you?"

Bruce held his shirt up to his nose as it bled, and Dick held up his hands. "Jason, I need you to put the picture frame down and breathe... Tell me what you were playing with your dad," Dick replied to get Jason to refocus.

Jason wouldn't put the picture frame down but took a deep breath. "My name is Jason Todd. I was playing the lock game with my dad," Jason answered, "I want my dad. I don't wanna get in anybody's car... I want my dad to come and get me. Just let me call him. I wanna call him. I promise I won't call the police or nothin'. I only want my dad." Jason started getting agitated again, and Dick kept his hands up.

"Jason, what's the lock game? Let's go downstairs and use the phone while you talk to me. No one's trying to hurt you here," Dick reassured him.

"That's a lie! My dad says everybody hurts people! You get hurt by people, and you hurt people, then you die... That's what my dad says," Jason replied.

Dick glanced at Bruce, and Jason threw the picture frame at Dick and rushed past him out of the room and down the stairs. "We've gotta go get him," Bruce whispered.

"We know where he's going, and we can beat him there if we drive," Dick replied before chuckling. "Oh, he got you good. How old do you think he is now?"

"Shut up and get in the car," Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes as he followed Dick downstairs.

"He's older, though, isn't he?" Dick asked. Bruce nodded.

Dick and Bruce got in one of the cars in the garage and drove to Jason's apartment, where they waited for him to arrive. They sat in the kitchen out of the direct line of sight of the front door. Jason crept in nearly two hours later in pajamas. They were half a size too small. He was barefoot and drenched in sweat. "Dad? Dad, I'm home," Jason called before looking around and spotting Bruce and Dick. "What do you want with me?" Jason backed away toward the door.

"Jason, how old are you?" Dick asked.

"I'll be eight in August. And if you come near me, I'll scream. I swear I will," Jason replied, "And why is everything different? Where's the phone? Where's Mommy's CDs?" Jason started hyperventilating.

"Jason, relax. This can all be explained... But you're not gonna like this explanation. We've known you since you were twelve years old," Bruce whispered.

"I'm seven, you psychopath!" Jason yelled.

"Of course, you're seven now, but a few days ago, you were twenty-four years old and just as angry as you are now," Bruce explained, raising his voice.

"I'm not angry! I'm scared! If I was angry, I would've gone for your eyes! Now get out before my dad gets here and makes you both sorry you ever followed-."

"Jason, your father isn't coming. He's gone," Bruce snapped. Jason looked around the apartment, and he sank to the ground. He sobbed into his hands.

Somehow he knew Bruce was telling the truth. The room stayed silent until Jason could collect himself. "Is my mommy-? Is she okay?" Jason asked.

Bruce frowned and shook his head. Jason clutched his stomach. "Nooooo," Jason moaned as he tried to pull himself to his feet. Dick came close and offered Jason a hand, and Jason swatted it away. "No, no, no. I can't-. She said she was getting better." Jason stood up and stumbled to the kitchen sink, where he threw up. Bruce could see the difference in Jason's grief. In only two years, Jason's whole demeanor changed. It was like Bruce was looking at a completely different child. Bruce crouched down, still covered in blood from his nose.

"Please come back with us... You can get cleaned up and rest. Jason, I'm sorry. We only wanted to help," Bruce whispered.

Jason wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at Bruce. "Mommy's been away at the hospital, and Dad-. Dad's been great. He got a job, and it's been him and me for a few weeks. Dad was gonna-. He promised to take me to the park," Jason mumbled. Dick opened his arms, and Jason stumbled forward into Dick's embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Jason," Dick whispered.

Jason clutched Dick's shirt. "Dad was doing better... Mommy was gonna come home soon," Jason mumbled. Dick met eyes with Bruce.

"Bruce swore he'd do whatever he could to help you," Dick whispered, "He's a good man. He raised me... And he wants to raise you too... If you'll allow it."

"Why would he want me? I'm nobody," Jason whispered as he looked up at Dick.

"Not to me... Jason, you have no idea how important you are," Bruce replied. Dick let go of Jason and let Bruce hug him.

Jason hugged back. "I'm sorry I punched you in the face," Jason apologized.

"I'm just thankful you didn't break my nose. You've got one heck of a jab," Bruce smiled. It reminded him of the first time they met. Still, he couldn't figure out why Jason managed to age two years overnight. And Bruce couldn't get that comment out of his mind. Bruce thought he knew Jason, but he didn't know him. Not one bit. He couldn't even tell the difference between fear and anger for Jason... He would've gone for his eyes... Was that what Jason was that whole time? Scared? Was he pulling his punches, hoping for a better outcome someday? Was he asking for a change in Bruce? What was Jason so afraid of?

They'd have so many things to talk about whenever Jason grew up. Suddenly, he couldn't wait for Jason to get older again.

#batfam #fic #jason todd #bruce wayne #five little ducks fic #de-aged jason todd #catherine todd mention #willis todd mention #angst and fluff

[aquietwritingcorner]

At the Speed of a Runaway Horse

Title: At the Speed of a Runaway Horse Day: NA Fandom: TMNT 2k3 Usagi Yojimbo Word Count: 817  Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating:  K Characters: Miyamoto Usagi, Donatello Warning: Cuteness Summary: Usagi doesn’t understand everything that young Donatello is telling him. However, the boy seems to be quite enthusiastic, so who is Usagi to stop him?   Notes: Long story short on the backstory: there was a crisis involving the Time Scepter. Literally everything was a stake. Don sacrificed himself to save literally everything. The Time Scepter took that into account and instead of killing him/erasing him from existence, turned him back into a freshly mutated tot to live life all over again. Splinter and the Turtles are now raising him. He’s about eight here.  ff.net || AO3

______________________________ 

At the Speed of a Runaway Horse

Miyamoto Usagi was not sure how he ended up looking after the young Donatello, and yet, somehow, he had. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He often ended up with children near or around him. For some time, he had thought it was because the peasant children were not used to seeing a samurai so accessible to them, and he could not blame them for their curiosity. However, over time he had come to realize that it was something else about him that seemed to attract children to him.

This was not his first time encountering the young Donatello. Indeed, he had visited not long after the ill-fated adventure that had led to the purple-banded turtle being de-aged. It had been quite a surprise to find that a warrior he had very much expected was now a small, wide-eyed toddler, eagerly learning about the world around him. While the child had been able to talk and walk, it was clear that he was not proficient in either and had required the care of his family. His family had dutifully looked after him, although it had been clear that they had still been reeling from what was essentially the loss of their brother.

Still, they had taken good care of their brother, and he was clearly growing up to be an inquisitive, healthy child. His intelligence was astounding, and Usagi was surprised by it every time he came over. He had realized only now, watching Donatello grow up again, just how formidable Donatello’s intellect had been, and he had been saddened that he had never had the time to know that facet of his friend.

He was, however, getting the chance to learn it now, and Usagi was both amused and lost as young Donatello took his hand and led him around the lair, to show him various projects he was working on. The young boy was chattering away at the speed of a runaway horse, but Usagi did not dare ask him to slow down, as he was having such a good time.

“—and Aunt April is showing me how to do coding and stuff for my projects, because she says that if I can learn to do that, then I can make a lot of things do a lot of things that they weren’t programed to do. This is the one I’m working on now! It’s a vacuum cleaner! It’s supposed to roam around the floor and pick up dirt and trash and stuff. But it’s not very smart and it doesn’t have very good sensors because it keeps trying to fall into the water—Did you know they won’t let me go in the pond by myself yet? I don’t know why, I’m eight years old and I’m a good swimmer! I can hold my breath for a long time! But they won’t let me. Even Leatherhead won’t let me, it’s not fair.”

Usagi had to suppress a smile. Some things never changed—such as children thinking that their guardians were too strict on them. “I’m sure that you are a very capable swimmer, Donatello. Your family is merely concerned about your safety.”

“Well, they don’t have to be THAT concerned. Anyway, I wanna make it so it doesn’t try to go off into the pond all of the time. So, I’m going to connect these sensors to it so that it can get more data, and then let that data feedback into a program.” He frowned a little. “Eventually I want to store the program in the vacuums—I wanna get more than one—and have a database for them to relay information to, so that they have a backup, but for right now, if I can program to a database that they can communicate to that will give them their commands then that’ll be good enough for me. But I want to program them so that they can see the danger and react ahead of time, instead of running into the danger and then reacting to it.”

If Usagi was perfectly honest, a majority of what Donatello had said went over his head. However, the last sentences shed some clarity on it, and he squatted down to look at the small, flat, round device that Donatello had.

“If I am understanding you correctly, Donatello, you are trying to make it so that this machine will react proactively to dangers instead of reactively to danger as it performs its job. And you will do that by giving it the ability to perceive more of its surroundings with these ‘sensors’ so that it can send for instructions when needed. Is that correct?”

Donatello beamed at him. “Yes! That’s absolutely correct, Uncle Usagi!” He reached out and patted Usagi’s knee. “You’re a really good listener!”

Once again, Usagi had to hide his amusement at this, instead nodding solemnly. “That is a high compliment, Donatello. Thank you.”

#TMNT #TMNT 2003 #TMNT 2k3 #TMNT AU #usagi yojimbo #Crossover #TMNT Donatello #miyamoto usagi

[yikes-00]

Hi, I’m new here and I just wanted to say: I’m a big fan of your writing! Thank you for your service!

So, if you’re still doing them, for the smut prompts:

"So...you wanna have sex?" (Hangster)

Please and thank you ❤️

Hello!! Oh my gosh that is SO SWEET of you to say. I’m so very glad you’re in this fandom. It’s a great place to be😊 I hope you enjoy this!! Also please feel free to dm me if your mind took it a different place and I will be happy to write another one!✨

WC: 490

Rating: E/Explicit

Tags: Public sex/they fuck on a car, exhibition (They’re outside), clothed sex, Protected sex

AN: Good vibes and sunshine!!! I hope everyone is having a good day✨💙

“So, you wanna have sex?” 

Jake turns. Bradley is leaning against the bar next to him, his glasses are tucked into the front of his shirt. A lazy smile that only shows on his face when Bradley is about to get exactly what he wants spreads over his face. 

“Why?” Jake’s question is asked with less forcefulness than he cares for. More a lingering doubt or insecurity than the venom that usually covers his words. 

Bradley shrugs. “I’m hot,” he says slowly leaning in. Old tricks work better than the new moves and Jake knows now why Bradley never leaves alone. “You’re hot. It’s closing time and we’re both alone.” 

“So I’m the last resort,” Jake grumbles. It sits low in his stomach. Half arousal, half annoyance that Jake isn’t sober enough to want to say no. 

Bradley shift. A warm thigh touches him before a finger hooks under Jake’s chin turning him to look at Bradley. 

“Or maybe,” Bradley says in a low voice, “I’ve been waiting for you to be alone, it’s just taken a few years.” 

Jake’s eyes flutter. “Yours or mine?” 

Bradley’s lips press hard against Jake’s. A surprised gasp leaves Jake which is quickly swallowed by Bradley. His tongue slides into Jake’s mouth as the fingers on his chin fan out until they’re gripping the back of Jake’s neck. The kiss breaks and Bradley looks desperate already. Flush high in his face and eyes dark.

“Too far.” 

Jake raises a brow. He downs his whiskey and throws bills on the counter before following Bradley out of the bar. The air is cool. Jake doesn't bother unbuttoning his shirt as he walks across the parking lot to the Bronco. Bradley pulls him in, his hands tight on Jake’s body as he turns Jake, pressing him against the driver’s door. 

Jake moans. Bradley’s fingers pull at his jeans until Bradley can get them around Jake’s thighs. Jake’s fingers tie into Bradley’s hair and tugs gently trying to get his mouth back. Bradley goes easy. Wet sounds of their mouth fill the night air. Jake keens softly as a finger presses into him. 

Bradley’s mouth devours him. One finger turns to two which turns to three. It’s wet and rough and messy and somehow hitting the spot inside Jake that makes him see stars. 

Jake whines at the loss of fingers. The sound of foil tearing cuts through the fog in Jake’s mind before Bradley’s hand hitches Jake’s thigh around his hips and slowly presses his cock against Jake’s rim. 

“Next time,” Bradley grunts out, “it’s going to be on a bed.” 

Jake moans as Bradley slides into him. It splits him open in all the right ways as Bradley pushes him harder against the Bronco. Fingers grab Jake’s face forcing him to look up into Bradley’s. 

“Next time,” Bradley’s voice is rough. His eyes are wild. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to leave my bed.” 

Jake moans as Bradley bottoms out and lets the white hot feeling burning through his veins consume him. 

#hangman smut #Hangster #Sereshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #Minors DNI

[thisisarcanereverie]

Checkmate (DARK! Moon Knight x Reader) Knight and Pawn series (FINAL CHAPTER)

Hey here it is!!! Thank you guys so much for sticking around and loving this series as much as you do. unfortunately all good things have to end, and this is the final chapter. (I know I kinda left ya at a cliff hanger.) I was originally was gonna post it a week from now but I kinda needed the distraction and next thing you know over 5k words later and I finished it.

Again thank you to everybody who loved this series!!

also don't be afraid to send asks or requests for fics!!

HERE IS MY ASK BOX

You love Marc. 

You have always loved Marc. 

You remind yourself of every good quality your husband has as you pace in front of the sink where three tests lay waiting. You were anxious and began to shake as time seemed to be moving aggravatingly slow. 

What if you were pregnant? How would he take it? How would you take it? 

Both of you didn’t grow up with the best examples, your parents died when you were young and were neglected by your guardians, meanwhile Marc’s mother was a terror and his father only excused her cruel actions and words. Would you both be able to handle raising someone, could you be better than them?

You had been mindlessly washing dishes earlier when you had cut your finger on a knife. You had hissed and looked to assess the damage, you dried your hands and went to put a bandaid on it or something. When you had that taken care of, you looked at the previously white rag, now stained with red. You had no idea why you were staring at it until this cold tingle went down your spine as your hand unconsciously drifted over your abdomen as the question came to mind. 

When was the last time you had your period?

It had only been a month since the wedding and Marc moving you and him back to the states where he bought a large home in a gated community. Apparently the community was for people like him, superheroes. You remember meeting quite a few of them, all of them with their wives. Wanda Maximoff and her wife being the friendliest out of all of them although Wanda’s wife seemed to be a ball of nerves sometimes.  

And before that you had a freak accident, you couldn’t remember it if you tried, and you have, only to be met with migraines so intense it made you vomit. You only remember feeling Marc holding you tightly against him and sobbing. You tried asking him about it only to be met with sad eyes and “I don’t wanna relive it.” 

And you can’t really remember much else before then, probably because life was so calm and normal that it just slipped your mind, time passes by quickly when you’re not paying attention. 

You just know you and Marc had always been together. 

The loud beeping of the timer echoed throughout the bathroom, ripping you from your thoughts. You debated looking at them, maybe if you didn’t know it would go away like it never happened, but at the same time you wanted to know. You didn’t know how to feel about it, you were sick to your stomach but at the same time you can’t stop picturing a tiny child with dark hair like their father and eyes like their mother, you can practically hear them laugh and hear their feet patter against the overall quiet home you live in and instead of it terrifying you. 

It made you feel warm and happy. 

You were terrified, an overall mess of conflicting emotions, you breathed in for a moment and much like ripping off a stubborn bandaid you quickly picked up all three tests. 

Pregnant

You guessed you were in shock because suddenly a still calmness enveloped you, similar to acceptance. You carefully hid the pregnancy test in an old box that Marc never went through in the back of the closet, not yet ready to share the news. 

You then went about the day like normal. 

You finished the dishes, swept the floor in the living room, painted in your home studio, and looked up a recipe for dinner. You just thanked god that the weekly tea and bunch that all the ladies of the community have was pushed back due to the rain. You don’t know how you would handle being around other people at this moment. 

You had finished cooking and were setting the table when you saw your husband walk through the door. At some point you just began to assume it’s Marc since Steven came out mostly for work and cuddling, while Jake has been allusive after the accident months ago. Almost like he was avoiding you. 

Oh god you just realized it wasn’t just Marc who you would have to break the news to, how would your boys handle it?

“Everything alright Starlight?” You hear Marc ask sweetly, his jacket had already been hung up and he was making his way to you, his eyes concerned, “you look pale, are you having those migraines again?” His hand went to hold your face when you flinched, an action that even shocked you. You were quick to grab his hand and kiss his open palm. You smiled at him and willed yourself to calm your excited nerves. 

“Everything is perfect Pretty Boy,” You assured him, “why don’t you get changed and I’ll finish setting the table.” Marc looked apprehensive before placing a kiss on your lips and a silent, “i’ll be right back”. 

Dinner had proceeded normally, Marc had practically inhaled his food, having skipped lunch to come home earlier to you. You both talked about your day, you had conveniently left out the three positive pregnancy tests currently hiding in the closet. 

Marc had helped with the dishes and at some point, some slow song began to play from the radio. Which led to him pulling you both away from the sink and to dancing in the middle of the kitchen, one hand on the small of your back and your hands playing with the ends of his hair. You both hummed to the song as love filled the room. You pressed your forehead against his as you both just swayed away any troubles. By the time the song ended, it felt like this morning had been days ago. 

You loved your life with Marc. 

But would Marc still feel the same way knowing that there was about to be a new member to your new family?

—

It had been days since you took those tests. 

With each day you felt like you were keeping a secret from him and you were getting anxious, not ever being able to keep a secret from Marc for long. And you knew Marc was getting suspicious, not letting him anywhere near the closet, staring out of windows a lot with a far off look, You knew he was being patient but you didn’t know how long that patience would last. 

Finally Marc had a day and night off from Steven’s business and from his Moon Knight duties and you decided today would be the day you told him. 

You had originally planned to do it in the morning, once again ripping the bandaid off, but was….pleasantly distracted by him. Multiple times….in a row. 

God it was no wonder you were in your current situation. 

Then you wanted to tell him at breakfast, but before you could Marc suggested taking a trip to the local beach. He had made sure when moving to move close to one, that dream of visiting the ocean and having you there with him came true. 

You decided that maybe Marc would react better in public. 

Then you got to the beach only to realize that maybe not there, in case he didn’t want this pregnancy you didn’t want this beach to become a tainted place. 

The day passed by quickly, before you knew it you went from laying on the beach enjoying the fresh salt tinted air before the sun was beginning to set on the horizon and you were both eating dinner at home. Having take out from your favorite place. 

There had been a moment of silence as you built up your courage. You knew you would have to put this delicately to him, he was always prone to hysterics. 

“Marc,” You said, He immediately perked up his attention solely on you. You never called him Marc, only your Pretty Boy. Whenever you called him Marc it was because he made you mad or you were serious. 

Both scared him. 

“Yes, my beautiful starlight.” Marc said, adding an extra adjective in front of your typical nickname, hoping the compliment might lighten whatever mood had taken over. 

“So the other day I cut my finger in the kitchen,” You said, Marc following every word, “I went to put a bandaid on it when something was brought to my attention.” 

Oh god did you know?!

Marc could feel his anxiety bubbling up as fear took a hold of him. 

“I’m late.” 

What?

Marc tilted his head in confusion as though he wasn’t following. 

“What um, what were you late for?” He asked nervously, not really following what plans you had made that day that would warrant the look on your face right now. 

“I wasn’t late for anything,” You gently explained as you held onto his hand, “I mean I’m late.”

Marc still wasn’t getting it. 

You sighed and decided to hell with subtlety. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

It seemed like Marc hadn’t heard you at first, he hadn’t moved in well over a minute since you told him. You were about to touch his shoulder when he slumped forward, limp. 

At first you were worried he had died from the shock, but his steady pulse and breathing indicated otherwise. After a few seconds, he came to. Although from the adorably confused look on his face that it wasn’t Marc. 

“Hello sweetheart,” Steven greeted with a sweet kiss to your cheek once he gained his barings, “forgive me for saying this, because I’m not complaining at all, but why am I here? I thought today was Marc’s day with you.” 

If Marc was completely oblivious with subtlety before you knew Steven would be more so. 

“I’m pregnant.” You said. 

Silence. 

“I thought your name was (Y/n)?” 

You loved him but right now your patience was thin. 

“No Steven,” You said calmly, placing a hand over your stomach, “We’re going to have a baby, I’m pregnant.” 

Silence once again filled the room before Steven started hyperventilating, you tried calming him down only for him to slump over, his frame once again limp as you concluded that he, indeed, passed out. 

And much like before not even five minutes later, he’s up again with another confused look. Only now, when his eyes land on you, you see immense guilt and sorrow in them. 

Those eyes hurt the most. 

“Hola Angel,” Jake greeted, his eyes looking away from you, “I didn’t know I was going to see you today.”

“I’m pregnant.” You stated, you saw him stiffen before his eyes immediately darted to yours. Searching for any hint of a joke, finding none he knew this was it…the point of no return. Marc had won, completely and utterly. 

You were doomed, and there was nothing Jake could do to save you. 

“Are, are you um…merida,” Jake cursed in Spanish as you saw a cold sweat break out on his forehead. This man who had killed more people than he could count and enjoyed it was breaking out in a cold sweat over the fact that you were pregnant, “Estas segura?”

“Si,” You said cradling his face, “Si mi Amor” 

Time seemed to move slowly around him, and for you as well as you waited for the reaction, waited for him to oppose, or to love it, you didn’t know which one you wanted. 

You weren’t sure much about anything.

Suddenly, much like the other two, he slumped forward, limp. Instead of being incredibly concerned, you waited patiently, knowing in a few seconds either Marc or Steven would pop back up. 

Sure enough, a few seconds later he’s revived, and at this point the nerves inside you were making you more impatient by the second. Once again by the look he gave you, you knew which one he was right now. Those dark eyes that held so much love that it scared you sometimes, love and obsession. 

“Are you done?” you asked impatiently, already quite annoyed by his fainting over the news. After a few minutes Marc nodded, although shakily. 

“How, uh, how long have you known?” 

“Almost a week,” You revealed, “I was in shock for the first day and a half, but I wanted to wait until you could freak out properly before telling you.” 

Silence passed between you as you reached for his hand and took it, squeezing it in comfort, to ground him from his thoughts. 

“What, um, shit,” Marc cursed, here he was freaking out while you were the one who was pregnant, “what do you want to do?” 

“I don’t know,” You said honestly, “I thought we could talk about this and decide together, you, me, Steven, and Jake.” You saw Marc grimince at the mention of Jake but understood where you came from. If he had it his way Jake wouldn’t get a vote or say anything, but as you’ve pointed out he was very much there. 

Even though Marc could still feel the sting of betrayal at the thought of him. 

“I’ll go first,” You said, pulling Marc from his thoughts, “I don’t know if we’re ready, I mean we never talked about it and we didn’t have the best examples growing up…but,” You paused, “I think we are not the people who raised us. You are not your mother, and I am not my guardian. I think if we both work hard and hold each other accountable, I think we may be able to pull it off.” You already knew you both wouldn’t be perfect, that you’ll fall short somewhere along the line. But a deep part of you, one that was selfish and irrational, wanted to give this a shot.  But you knew if Marc said no, along with Steven and Jake, then you knew not going through with the pregnancy would probably be a wise choice, you would not bring a kid into this world only to be rejected by the other person who made them. You just wouldn’t. 

Marc thought for a while, what would a kid with you look like? Memories of his past still haunted him, but all that he could see is a kid with dark curly hair and your eyes. He could see you laughing as you played with them, he could imagine the sleepless nights, the angsty teenage years, he could see going through it all with you. And you with a smile on your face as you’ve gotten what you deserve. 

A family and a home filled with unconditional love. 

Marc knew that if you both went through with this, you absolutely must never know about the events that lead up to this moment. Hiring a P.I to track you, you falling in love with that P.I only for Marc to kill him in front of you, threatening you, abducting you, killing those you loved in your name, and ultimately your attempt a few months previous to escape him, and how it ended with him sacrificing himself to keep you. 

Marc knew he didn’t deserve you, that what he did was fucked up beyond belief. He understood that quite well. 

But right now he can’t stop imagining a bundle in your arms, cooing as sunlight hit you. 

And he couldn’t say no. 

“She would be a wonderful mother,” Steven said in the mirror, Jake however was silent but Marc could sense it. Jake wanted this child just as much as Steven and him. 

“We will try our best,” Marc said finally, “I will read every parenting book ever made if that’s what it takes.”

You felt like crying, a massive weight was just lifted off of your shoulders and you felt like you could finally breathe. 

But as you wept into Marc’s chest and the night continued, a dark foreboding feeling lingered at the back of your mind. 

You weren’t sure what that was about. 

—

~8 months later~

You woke with a start, you clutched your chest as your heart beat rapidly. You felt damp, all over and you tried to even your breathing as you closed your eyes and counted back from a hundred. But every time you closed your eyes you would get these flashes. It wasn’t the first one, they would happen sporadically, never making sense, but they would always be accompanied with a strange sense of deja vu. Most of the time they didn’t make any sense and they didn’t last very long. Like you staring out of the window, you seemed to have a lot of flashes about staring out of a window, staring out into a world just beyond your reach. Then there are flashes of you reading books, and living inside this penthouse full of windows. 

Then there were others. 

You would be in some run down place with a woman with short curly brown hair, with freckles dusted along the apples of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. You don’t know why but you felt like you knew her, that you loved her to some degree.

But how could you love a woman you’ve never met?

Then there were days you were unfamiliar with, you were happy, you dressed in business attire and did a typical nine to five day. You came home with a satisfied smile on your face. 

But you don’t know who you were coming home to everyday. 

You only remembered something about amber eyes. Whenever you see flashes of amber eyes your heart always hurts, like it’s been stabbed and you have no idea why. Oftentimes you would leave to go to the bathroom and cry because of the pain in your chest. 

You didn’t want to worry Marc. 

Strangely enough you never had flashes of Marc, or Steven, or even Jake. 

For some reason it unsettled you. 

You go to move when you feel a pop, and suddenly you go from damp to soaked. You looked down and sure enough there was a puddle on the ground that wasn’t there before. 

Fuck

“Marc,” You say as he grumbled in return, “Marc,” You tried again as he stirred awake. 

“What is it, Starlight?” He asked, reaching for your hand, “another craving?”

“My water broke.” You said casually, a long moment passed before you felt him springing from his side of the bed and rushing over to you, almost slipping on the puddle in the process. 

“Ok,” He starts slowly, a complete contrast to his previous actions, “ok, stay um stay right there I’ll go get the hospital bag.” Before you could say anything, he was rushing around your home like a headless chicken. You smiled as you burned this memory into your mind, this memory of your goofball husband that you loved not remembering that he put the bag in the car a week ago. 

“Shit,” He curses looking in the mirror, “STEVEN DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO THE BAG!?!” You get up and start to look for the simplest thing to wear that wasn’t your night clothes. 

“I don’t know I don’t know,” Steven says as you calmly fish out a casual maternity sundress. It was a warm night and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be wearing jeans for a hot minute. 

“Idon’tknowIdon’tknow.” You hear Steven repeat as Marc switches back in order to calm Steven down. You casually put the sundress on and casually strolled by your husband to grab a pair of slippers. After slipping the shoes on without bending down which took a couple of minutes. After seeing that even after all that Marc still doesn’t remember you decide to help him. 

“Marc,” you said sweetly as he was still looking for the bag, “Marc,” You repeated as you touched his arm. He looked at you as if just remembering that you were there and that you were the one whose water was just broken. 

“You should sit down,” Marc said as he gently ushered you in a chair, “we may have to go without the bag we should get dressed-wait a minute,” Marc suddenly stops himself as he notices your change of attire, “when did you get dressed?”

“While you were running around like a headless chicken,” You answered simply, “and you put the bag in the trunk last week because you knew you were going to act like this.” 

“I don’t think that was my thoughtful planning.” Marc said, before the subtle change happened. The frightened look in his eyes was replaced with concerned but calm ones. 

“No, that would be me,” Jake said. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Steven asked before he changed back to Jake. 

“The Host never asked.” He replies before helping you out of the chair gently, “let’s go angel.” Jake calmly helped you to the backseat of the car, making sure you were taken care of before going and changing himself. It was just a shirt and sweatpants but better than the pair of boxers he was wearing before. 

—

The drive was relatively short to the hospital, however as soon as you got there the contractions started. 

Apparently, your contractions were happening sooner rather than the 12 or so hours later. 

Honestly, the whole birthing process was a blur to you, you felt the pain but you don’t remember Marc holding your hand. 

With each contraction you were back in those visions, those flashes, only this time they had Marc. 

You saw that curly haired woman again, and you saw them together, kissing. You felt your heart ache as you heard her name. 

Layla. 

Another contraction you saw yourself all bruised and battered, barely breathing as people beat you. And out the corner of your eye you saw Marc, dressed as Moon Knight, escape with Layla in his arms. 

Visions kept happening with each contraction, you and Marc fighting, a man named Alec, SWORD. 

You see yourself, trapped on the bus, you had never looked that afraid before, the look of terror etched to your face as you pounded against the door of the bus. You walked closer to Alec and Marc not expecting to hear them over your screams. 

“You’ll never have her,” Alec said his amber eyes were the ones that hurt you, “even if you kill me you’ll never have her.” 

“And why is that?” You hear Marc ask mockingly. You studied him, you could tell by the suit it was him, but he was…darker than you remembered. 

“Because I have something you’ll never have again,”

 a pause. 

“Her heart.” 

And with that, as quick as lightning, you saw Marc snap his neck and Alec lay lifeless on the ground. 

And those dull, unseeing, amber eyes seemed to stare at you, almost tauntingly. As if to say “you thought you could forget this?”

But how could you forget this, you remember this, you knew this was real, but it didn’t make sense. Memories of Marc, all the happy ones. Baking together, loving together, eating popcorn while watching trash tv together. 

Was any of it real?

You bellowed in pain, not just from the labor but it felt like your entire being was being split open, body and soul. 

In rapid flashes you could see what your life with Marc was truly like. 

You were angry with him, but deep down, you were also terrified. You fought everyday to keep your mind and spirit. 

You saw yourself entangled with him, the amount of conflict in you was palpable. You knew you didn’t want it, but you did at the same time. The amount of grief and shame that filled you as you saw yourself holding back the tears as you cleaned yourself up was overwhelming. 

Then events passed in a blur, Layla helping you escape with Jake's assistance, you and Layla talking, a week passing by and then Jake rushing you out. Saying it was for your safety. Then, in the rearview mirror, you saw it, the switch. Then Layla dying in the backseat, the way she lifelessly slumped haunted you. 

“You’re no better than your mother” Your voice echoed in your ears. 

“NONE OF THAT WAS REAL!” Marc’s voice bellowed. 

The cold click of a gun’s safety turning off. 

“NO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“Did you mean it when you said I was your world” your body felt like it was falling apart, atom by atom, “your moon and stars.” 

Just as you thought you were going to die, you heard it. 

A baby crying. 

Your baby. 

“Good,” You faintly hear as the world around you begins to fade into black as the pain ebbed away slowly, “You took everything from me, it’s about time I return the favor.” 

—

Marc couldn’t decide if he was in heaven. 

Or in hell. 

He cradled his newborn daughter in his arms, he was so worried. For months he had been secretly dreading this moment, the moment he became a father. But now as he’s holding her, all he could feel was a love he never knew he was capable of. Each and every part of him loved her. Jake and Steven were in awe and for once, quiet. He beamed as he noticed that she scrunched her nose much like you did, something that he knew she inherited from you. 

The fear was still there, and he suspected it always will be until the day he dies. 

But none of that mattered right now. 

Because his daughter was here. 

If he was being honest, he didn’t know how he would’ve handled a son. He suspects he wouldn’t react nearly this affectionately. 

But right now as he held onto your daughter he was worried. He was worried for you, you’ve been staring out that window a lot, the blank look in your eyes only disappeared when your daughter was in your arms. 

He handed his daughter off to the nurse for another check up, one that he had requested to make sure that everything was ok. He kissed her gently on the forehead before walking over to where you sat. Marc sat gently on the bed next to you, and tried to notice the slight flinch that your body gave. 

“What’s going on, Starlight?” Marc asked as he reached for your hand. You didn’t move your hand away but you also didn’t return the affection. 

You mumbled something so quietly he didn’t understand what you had said. 

“What?”

“Did you mean it?” You asked, not looking at him.

“What do you mean?” Marc asked. 

“Did you mean it when you said I was your world,” You said bitterly, “your moon and stars.” 

His blood ran cold as he saw your eyes and as the words tumbled out of your mouth. Those were one of the last words you spoke before…before the incident. 

“I remember,” you said, still not looking directly at him, “I remember it all.” 

Those were the words he never wanted to hear, he could handle anything else, but not that you remember. 

“I’ve been having these flashes since I found out I was pregnant,” You explained, “they were tame at first. Just me sitting sadly by a window, and then a girl I didn’t recognize, then this pair of amber eyes.” You took in a shaky breath, “the girl's name was Layla…she was my best friend and your first wife, and those amber eyes belonged to Alec or I guess his real name was Mack.” Marc fell to his knees, tears streamed down your face as he grasped both of your hands. He was on his knees for you, and you could barely look at him. “You killed them all.” 

“For us,” Marc said, grasping your hands tighter, “I did it all for us.” 

“How am I still alive?” You asked. 

“I made another deal,” Marc said as he realized it was no use hiding it all from you now, “with Khonshu. My life for yours.” You nodded blankly at the wall before letting out a shaky breath. 

“I couldn’t escape you in life,” You said, “and I couldn’t escape from you in death.” A long moment of silence ensued as you gave his hands a firm squeeze. 

“I’ve been thinking,” You said, “I’ve spent the last 24 hours thinking. I love our daughter, I love her more than I ever thought possible. She deserves the life we never got, one with loving parents and a nice home.” A spark of hope lit up inside him. “There may never be a day where I will come to forgive you. I will always remember what you did and that will haunt me forever, and the guilt that people died because of me and I repay them by playing house with their murderer will weigh on my shoulders until the day I die.” Your thumb strokes his knuckles, “but I love my daughter more than anything, she is my world, moon and stars. And I want her to live as happily as possible, and if that means I have to learn to love you despite what you’ve done then that means that’s something I have to do.” Marc started crying in your lap, from relief or sadness he couldn’t tell. 

“Smile Marc,” you said as you lifted his head and he saw your sweet smile and bitter eyes, “You’ve won.” 

—

You had decided to name her Eva June Spector. Named after the new life she breathed into you, and for the month she was born in. 

Sure enough appearance wise she took after her father, tanned skin, dark and curly hair, even the nose was a smaller version of his. But her eyes, her eyes were the same as yours. 

Eva loved her father, and Marc was an amazing father, sure he blundered here and there. But he was nothing like his parents, and neither were you. 

There were moments of affection between you two, it was almost impossible when you're constantly reminded that you made something wonderful with this man, but some days were too much for you and you couldn’t stand to look at him or to have him touch you. But you shoved it down in front of your daughter. 

Because you would walk through hell with a smile on your face for her. 

When you came back from the hospital you knew you weren’t the only one trapped within this gated community. 

You knew Wanda was possessive, and with that she was extremely possessive of her wife. The same with the ex Captain of America, the Winter Soldier, the Black Widow. This entire gated community was full of trapped people. 

And as it rained outside and with baby Eva on your lap, you sat across from Marc, a sly smile on his face as he moved his piece on the chess board. 

“Checkmate”

TAGLIST:

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#moon knight smut #x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #mcu moon knight #moon knight x y/n #dark!moonknight #dark steven grant x reader #dark marc spector x reader #dark jake lockely x reader #khonshu #mcu fandom #moon knight x reader smut #reader insert #female reader #x reader smut #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #oscar issac

[thesevenwondersofawitch]

Watching Picard season 3, episode 1. The Next Generation.

(Contains Major spoilers for the ep)

The music is so chill, tho I DO want to set the world on fire

Awww, pretty flowers

Uhhhhh, the masks are kinda random 👀

Interesting, one of Picards logs is playing 🤔

OH IT'S BEVERLY!!!

Wait oh found them?!

Oh no what happened to the crew member?🤔

OH HOLY SHIT

NO BEVERLY SHE'S BEEN SHOT

NOOOOOOOOO

Ngl, it's giving Ranger vibes

She's so badass I can't even I'm screaming

She just came out of the fog like a freaking angel of war

Oh noooo, she's bleeding

Is ANYONE gonna let the crew dude out?

OOOOOOOO SHE'S TRANSMITTING HER MESSAGE FROM THE TRAILER

LARIS! I THOUGHT SHE WASN'T GONNA BE IN THIS SEASON I'M SO HAPPY

Are they talking about his past relationships?

Oh

They're talking about a painting 😂😂😂

YEAH GEODRDI MY BABE

He runs a museum? Wasn't expecting that, but good for him😂

Awwww, Laris won't let the guy pack up Picard's painting

Ohhhh, so they're going on a trip, I thought they were going over his Will 😂

*sees the flute* I'm gonna sob it's fine

"I am not a man who needs a legacy." Dude you totally are that type of man😂

When I see that record player all I can think of is Q

Computer: "Unable to determine the location."

"Thanks for your help." I do not think that he was thankful for the help😂

OH MY GOD IT'S HIS OLD COM BADGE

I'M SCREAMING

I have literal chills

OH NY GOD IT'S BEVERLY I HAVE SO MUCH CHILL

"And Jean-Luc. No Starfleet. Trust no one." I'M SCREAMING OH MY GOD

I love Laris and Picard's talks by the fire

Dude, you've seriously haven't spoken to her in over 20 years? For shame dude

Oh, she cut everyone off😅

"You even tried to be Lovers, didn't you?" Man, I picked the absolute worst time to take a drink of pink lemonade, I nearly choked cause I couldn't help but burst out laughing 😂😂

I love how Laris is fully behind the fact that Beverly isn't paranoid

Picard: "I'll be back in a few days, maybe even less."

Laris: "Maybe even more."

Me: Or maybe he won't be back at all, and he'll die before you can ever see him again.

Oh fuck, she's gonna save him a seat😭 imagine if she's sitting there waiting for him only to get news he's died.

Their first (on screen) kiss!

I love that Guinan seals souvenirs😂

"That's 'Galaxy Class' to you young lady!" Riker is offended 😂

"Deanna and Kestra will appreciate the time away from me." Oh no, what happened (what did ya do Riker)

Picard totally wants to ask what happened but is holding his tongue, tho I wish he wouldn't cause I wanna know

WHAT HAD BEVERLY SO TERRIFIED!

So she cut off Deanna, Will AND Geordi as well, that definitely raises red flags since she was close with Deanna

RAFFI

I KNOW THAT WALK IT'S TOTALLY RAFFI

Oh God, the Daddy kink still lives? I hate it.

Nooo, Raffi's getting drugs😭

"My girlfriend left me." NOOOOOOOOOOOO

PLEASE LET THIS BE HER COVER 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I'm thinking it's a cover since she's really trying to get info

Who's the Red Lady? BEVERLY? SHE HAS RED HAIR! COULD IT BE ABOUT GOING AFTER HER

Oh, I would greatly like to kill this dude for hurting Raffi

OOOOOOOOOOO SHE IS UNDERCOVER YAY

I'm so proud of her for dropping the drug instead of using it😭

"I'm not sure about this plan."😂

"It's not a plan, it's a ruse." Same old Riker😂

THE TITAN

THAT MEANS SEEVVVVVVVEEEN!!!!! OH, I remember it from Lower Decks 😂

"The First Officer, on the other hand, I think you'll recognize." SEVEN

SEEEEVVVVVVVVEN!

(Actual footage ^ of the Saffi Fandom)

"Captain Shaw prefers that I use "Hansen," Admiral"

Oh hell no, I hate this Captain with a burning passion now cause how fucking DARE HE

The way that Picard paused to correct the one guy's posture and badge 😂

Oh Seven totally doesn't like the Captain 😂

*Ensign grins at Picard* Picard to Seven:"Is there something wrong with that Ensign?"

"Ensign La Forge, eyes on your station." I'M SCREAMING

Oh God, Riker is totally embarrassing her by bringing up her Nickname from the academy. If Deanna was there, she'd totally hack him and say: "Will!"

Seven's face when Picard said she should take the ship out😭 she was like a lil kid trying to hide how happy she was😭

*Picard tells Seven something way out of date in regards to flying then ship*

Seven:"It's all automated now."

Picard:"Oh... Of course." *Clears his throat awkwardly* "You're going to be a Captain before you know it, Commander Hansen."

Riker, grinning: "Excellent recovery, Admiral."

Picard: "Shut it, Will."

This Captain eating has me uncomfy

Dude, Picard was definitely not expecting this guy to be an ass

Riker looks like he would like to beat up the Captain 😂

Oh. Wow. I really hate this guy

Seven just watching the convo between them is a mood

Picard really should've done his homework on what stations were open

Seven is so helpful

Oh wow, he's even more of an asshole than I expected.

Honestly, I'm kinda shocked they're not gonna just knock the Captain unconscious and take control of the ship, saying that the Captain isn't feeling well😂

Seven watching Riker and Picard go has me wondering what her plan is🤔

AWWWWWW RAFFI'S GRANDBABY😭

"Good morning sweet girl"😭😭😭😭😭

Raffi's lil smile 😭

Raffi looks so done with her handler

Awwww, my poor babe, she's so tired

Did she just get discharged from Starfleet? Oh, just pulled up into from her file

"You are a warrior." The way Raffi's whole demeanor changed has me thinking she was brainwashed and this was saying was the trigger word to activate her

It would totally make sense since we know Worf fights her at one point

WHAT IF HE'S HER HANDLER

Oh my god, Riker and Picard are sleeping in bunkbeds 😂😂

Seven summoned them! Yay

Oh what is she planning

"You're gonna tell me what the hell you two are really doing here of I'm about to throw both of you out of an airlock and never look back." Aw, this reminds me of Voyager Seven😊

SHE MENTIONED JANEWAY!!!! I'M SCREAMING

Oh damn, Seven should go back to the Rangers, cause honestly I just want her to be happy and she doesn't seem to be.

Did she throw the Captain out of an airlock

Awwww, she ignored orders and brought them to the edge of federation space

I love how Seven followed her instincts

"I like that Seven." Same, Will, same.

The way everyone looked back as the Captain kinda fired Seven, they like her better

I feel like I should have an idea who Rachel Garrett is but I'm blanking

OH SHIT

Raffi's trying to get through to Starfleet, but it isn't working 👀

Oh I hope my babe doesn't witness an attack cause that could really traumatize her

OH NO

OH MY GOD, I HAVE CHILLS

The screaming of them is horrible 😭

She just witnessed a huge tragedy and wasn't able to do anything, that would definitely mess a person up

WAIT

Her son's family doesn't live in District Seven, do they?

WHAT IF THAT'S WHY SHE TRIES TO HAVE A FIGHT

"So long as we don't have to move or shot we should be fine." Me😂

The fact that Picard made Beverly a playlist instead of giving her flowers 😭😂

Wait wait wait

WHAT IF BEVERLY STOLE THE STUFF TO PROTECT IT AND WHOEVER ATTACKED HER STOLE IT AND USED IT TO ATTACK STARFLEET

Oh fuck, what the heck happened to her nose? It looks Alien

"Number one she's here" not me thinking his Dog was about to come running with a wagging tail😂

DUDE (Me to the guy who's holding Riker at gunpoint)

Does Beverly have another son?🤔

HOLY SHIT I WAS RIGHT

Wait, were they after him?🤔

I wonder who his dad is🤔

Wonder if his older brother ever showed up to take him to baseball games in the past 😂

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THAT'S HOW THEY END IT? OH COME ON

The older trek music has me so happy

If you'll need me, I'll be screaming and reading as much fanfic as I can until the next episode.

#thesevenwondersofawitch watches #star trek picard season 2 #the next generation #Picard s3 e1 #Picard #picard spoilers #star trek spoilers #star trek picard spoilers #captain jean luc picard #jean luc x laris #laris #will riker #will x deanna #deanna troi #Kestra Riker #beverly crusher #dr beverly crusher #captain riker #commander seven #commander Hansen #annika hansen #Starfleet #raffi musiker #seven x raffi #saffi #star trek watch through #tv show review #episode reactions #thesevenwondersofawitch #new trek

[luucarii]

lofty frustration

fandom: haikyuu

relationships: sugawara x reader

rating: g

word count: 800

post timeskip, self indulgent as all hell

disclaimer: i don’t write x reader content i just needed to get this out. #sugashouldveplayedmore

It was by complete chance that you found it, folded neatly in a plastic container in the back of your shared closet, buried under tote bags and whatever else you both haphazardly flung in there. 

Koushi always nudged that the two of you should make occasional cleaning a habit, to keep everything upright in the off chance Daichi would stop by after a shift to catch up or if you had felt the urge to host a little dinner party with friends of your own. It was a fun way to bond, somehow always finding a little trinket from one of your pasts that would lead to the two of you taking a “break” on the couch and telling old stories from high school.

But this was something you figured you would’ve seen earlier, a long time ago given how often the topic of Karasuno High would come up during dinner talks. Folded neatly in a plastic container in the back of your shared closet was the unmistakable black and orange of his volleyball team uniform.

“Koushi!”

It doesn’t take him long to poke his head through the door across the room. He bounds over to you in an instant and leans against the frame of the closet, overlooking you with quiet curiosity. You meet his eyes and an eager grin creases your lips. As you leap to your feet, you reach behind you and pull out the shirt and hold it over your body with a prideful giggle.

“Look what I found.”

“Ahh, I forgot I put that in there.” He shuts his eyes and lets out a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “That takes me back.”

You cock an eyebrow, and with a hand on your hip, you lean closer to him.“Why don’t you have it hung up somewhere? I know you don’t play as much anymore but, yknow, I would’ve figured it’d be pretty important to keep in good shape.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze but laughs again. “Must’ve just forgotten about it.”

“Liar.” You narrow your eyes and push the t-shirt into his chest. “Go put it on, I wanna see you in it.”

“Y/N…” He sighs with a half smile but he knows he can’t say no to you.

He strips off the loose fitting clothes he wore while he cleaned the kitchen, a loose black t-shirt and some sweats (that honestly looked like yours the more you watched as he slid them off) and his uniform soon overtook his figure. For a moment, when you blinked, you could see him back in high school days, where his hair had less volume and his smile showed his passion for volleyball. 

“It still fits.” Koushi mumbles more to himself than to you and you can’t help but giggle. “Yeah… this takes me back…”

You close the distance between the two of you, smoothing out the fabric on his chest and brushing off pieces of lint on his shoulders. “Now, you're gonna tell me why you hid this away?”

“I didn’t mean to hide it.” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Uhuh?”

Koushi takes a breath. You search his eyes and find nothing but light. In flickers of shadows, you can see his old life as a setter, calls to Asahi to spike, affirmations of a nice receive to Daichi and in the same shadows were his time on bench, calling out for nice serves and reminding everyone on the field to calm down. You had heard stories, endless stories of the freak quicks from his teammates Kageyama and Hinata, of Yamaguchi’s jump floater servers and Nishinoya’s boundless energy in hitting what looked like impossible receives but in the flicker in his eyes you could feel the tension in your chest, the fist-clenching desperation of getting one more point, of winning one more match.

“I don’t regret anything. Not for a moment.” His voice is quiet, a soft, fluttering whisper. Koushi raises his hand, gripping his number in his fingers until the fabric wrinkles. “But I… I wish I could’ve played more. Felt the sweat run down my back, feel the rush of mind thinking about my next play, the sting of the ball hitting my hands…”

“Koushi…”

“I don’t regret anything.” He repeats and for a moment, the sight of his smile makes your heart pang. “Just lofty frustration.”

You reach up to curl your arms around his neck and press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips.

“You know… it’s been a while since I’ve watched you play.” A soft smile creases your lips. “Wouldn’t hurt to give Sawamura a call, maybe see if we can find a few people for a three-on-three?”

He doesn’t say a word but the smile on his face is beaming.

#haikyuu!! #sugawara koushi #sugawara drabble #sugawara x reader #i haven't posted a fic to tumblr in fucking years #pls bully me for i am brainrotting so hard #suga hurts my heart

[juuneaux]

What if I just came back to tumblr full time and pretended like my entire online community didn’t get scattered to the wind in the great tumblr purge...

#bizaartalk #Twitter is hard and terrible for art #raise your hand if you wanna go back to the good old fandom days

[asweetprologue]

Nili’s Benchmark Geraskier Fic Rec List

hey yall! I officially hit 750 followers (a few days ago, I blew past the benchmark without even realizing!), which is... insane. I truly can’t believe that so many people over the last year have enjoyed my presence in this fandom enough to continue to follow my work. you guys are so great and I love you all so much, so I decided to put together a gift for you!

this is a list of my favorite geraskier fics from the fandom, which I have been putting together over the last year or so. a few of these are big in the fandom, but a lot of them are smaller pieces that I feel deserve more attention! I have provided ao3 and tumblr links where I could find them, as well as ratings and summaries. Most of these are canon!verse because I’m not personally a big fan of modern au’s, but there will be a few of those scattered throughout as well. I’ve divided the fics into two sections: oneshots and multichapter. See the list below the cut!

Being in this fandom truly has gotten me through the pandemic in a big way and I have made so many good friends while here. thank you all for validating my weird obsession with these characters and enabling me in these trying times <3

Oneshots

all that was good, all that was fair (all that was me is gone) | M | 7517 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions Of Violence | @xdandelionxbloomx

Somewhere, deep in a forest, a man drags himself from his grave by sheer power of will. He lies gasping on the forest floor and does not know who or what he is. The world is wide and wonderful, though, and there is so much to see.

Or, Jaskier is so stubborn that he literally comes back from the dead.

Another fascinating addition to the mythology of the Witcher. Jaskier’s slow rediscovery of himself is so well done here. One I’ve come back to again and again. 

As Fast As Love Can Go | T | 9628 | @bygodstillam

There are Faeries in the Wood.

That's what everyone said, at least, not that there was any solid proof. Jaskier had tried, more than once, to find some. Just a hint somewhere, of a real story, of real magic. But all anyone seemed to have was stories.

Jaskier was determined to find proof. He wasn't expecting to find a witcher in the process.

Fascinating fic with some really interesting worldbuilding, and a fresh new take on True Love’s Kiss. Also with some great art by @hehearse!

beautiful, he stirs up still things | T | 2575 | @alittlebitmaybe

“You’re not asking me to dance,” says Geralt.

Jaskier turns his palm up on his knee, offering it. “I think you’ll find I am.”

Just them dancing. This is a lovely sort of pre-relationship dynamic. So soft.

Dialogue Prompt | NR | 2932 | @reinvent-and-believe

Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping

Geralt gets Jaskier a gift, which prompts some confessions.

Even a small love | E | 22,272 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con 

“Well,” Jaskier replies distractedly. “Lots of things want to strangle you.”

“You don’t.”

It isn’t a particularly troublesome accusation, or even necessarily an accusation at all.

This is one I read early on in the fandom, and it really stuck with me. The dynamic between Jaskier and Geralt is perfect, and the misunderstandings between them feel so realistic. The non-con is not extreme, but do mind the warnings. 

For the Space of a Heartbeat | T | 2021 | @drowningbydegrees

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Just sweet, morning after discussions. I love to see them talking for once.

Greensleeves | T | 10,414 | @rebrandedbard

When Geralt crosses paths with Jaskier in the spring, the world is dressed in green. Quite literally. Everyone everywhere is wearing green, and it all comes down to a song Jaskier has written that, to his mortification, has become popular throughout the Continent. It's torment, being forced to preform the song over and over again and have his heart broken anew. But who is this Lady Greensleeves the people say Jaskier is so maddeningly, heartbrokenly in love with? At the baron's wedding party, Geralt is determined to find out.

This is one of my personal faves - there’s just something about Jaskier’s feelings being put on blast while Geralt remains totally oblivious that I think is so very them. And the resolution at the end is delightful.

I Don’t Wanna Fall (If It’s Not In Love) | E | 13,902 | @writinglizards

The first time it's out of desperation. Things get rapidly out of hand from there.

OR the building of a relationship through mutual wank sessions.

I love everything Ashley writes, but this one was the first fic I read by her and it still has a warm place in my heart. I also highly recommend It’s Been A While (makes me cry every time) and Tell Me Honestly

Like a Storm, Like a Flood | T | 1065 | @valdomarx

Jaskier is leaving for the winter, and Geralt can't bear the thought of not seeing him for months.

It was soooo hard to pick only one fic by George, but this one is so soft and sweet and yearning I just had to go with it. This is really just about Geralt finally hitting a breaking point and saying enough is enough.

one flesh | E | 10,763 | WARNING: MCD 

“Well, then. I’m a ghost.” Jaskier spread his arms grandly. Geralt held his gaze for a moment, then dropped his head and laughed. Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “Do fill me in on what’s so funny.” It wasn’t funny. It was just so - ridiculous, the things Geralt’s fucked up brain would invent. This had to be the last nail in the sanity coffin, it just had to be.

Or: Jaskier is a ghost, and Geralt is a mess.

Jaskier dies and comes back as a ghost to haunt Geralt into taking care of himself. Geralt does not handle this gracefully. This fic is so sad and heartbreaking, but the ending is so sweet.

to render it transparent | E | 23,901

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

Sigh. This fic. This is a time travel fic - Geralt ends up in the future living with Jaskier on the coast, just after the mountain. It’s slow and beautiful and extremely bittersweet, all about how we choose to love people despite how much it can hurt us.

With All the Continent A Stage | M | 4745 | @greyduckgreygoose

Later, Geralt learned that the play was four hours long. Four hours long. It didn’t feel like it. Most of it passed by in a fever dream of ominous music, dance-fighting and dryads in gossamer leaves, swinging from hoops attached to the ceiling. Yennefer made an appearance, played by Priscilla in a glittering negligee. She sang a song to Geralt about putting him “Under Her Spell”, and they had a sensual dance number which was made a little strange by a sickened Jaskier (played by Jaskier) coughing loudly in the background.

(Jaskier invites Geralt to a musical production inspired by his own life.)

Jaskier basically writes Geralt a love letter in the form of a four hour long play. Geralt is an idiot about it.

Multi-Chapter Fics

A Lover’s Lament | M | 25,364 | @somedrunkpirate

So,” Jaskier begins, as casually as he can, “you are telling me, that in theory, if I were to be in love with someone — anyone — that person could well be in terrible danger?”

Of all terrible and ridiculous things that have threatened Geralt’s safety, Jaskier’d never thought that loving him might be what will get him killed.

I honestly can’t count the number of times I’ve read this fic. The monster is so interesting, and the mythos of it fits seamlessly into the world of the Witcher in my mind. Jaskier being so afraid that his feelings are going to put Geralt at risk, clearly unable to see that Geralt is going through the exact same thing. I think about the scene with them looking at each other almost daily. 

A Pair of Gloves, the Scent of Roses | M | 24,134 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence

In the bustling days before the Midsummer festival, Geralt is sent into the countryside to deal with a monster - with Jaskier once again by his side. But the bard has not forgiven him, and while he's not hiding his contempt for the Witcher, he is recalcitrant about revealing his true motives for joining him. As the hunt turns into a desperate mission to save an innocent man and the monster is not what is seems to be, Geralt learns a few new things about his old friend and decides to finally attempt to mend the rift between them...

This is one of my favorite’s in the fandom - it feels so believable, the world is so rich and the oc’s are convincing and charming. Geralt and Jaskier feel so honest here, stumbling around each other but still drawn together. Beautiful beautiful beautiful

Bearing the will of the flower | NR | 11,449 

The way Jaskier sees it, his hobby of following a witcher around was always pretty likely to get him killed.

The fact that it's happening now because the witcher in question doesn't love him, he thinks as he coughs up crumpled flowers, hardly makes a difference.

My favorite hanahaki fic in the fandom. I’m such a sucker for these, and these two idiots being so incapable of talking about their feelings really makes them prime candidates. 

Food of Love | T | 22,488 | @wallatile-qvibbler

I brought a dead princess back to life through the power of song is the kind of thing that would have got an eyebrow raise even from the stone-faced Geralt of Rivia, so it's a good thing he and Geralt will probably never see each other again.

(or: the one where Jaskier channels magic through his songs, and it almost never goes as expected.)

This is a Jaskier and Renfri centric fic, which wasn’t something I knew I wanted until I read this. Jaskier is a bard which in this AU comes with magical powers, but it feels so well integrated into the universe that I wish it was just... how the Witcher is. Renfri is so good here, and even though Jaskier and Geralt barely even interact you can feel the tension and love between them. Cannot recommend highly enough.

friends and allies of the witcher | T | 10,312 | @theamazingbard

Yennefer crawls over to her newest cellmate. They’re curled up on their side. Breathing, but only just. She’s not sure what she’s hoping for when she turns them over. Still isn’t when she sees that it is indeed Jaskier.

“Shit."

Yennefer and Jaskier each suffer in more ways than one at the hands of Nilfgaard.

Yennefer and Jaskier get capture by Nilfgaard and tossed into a cell together. Exactly what I want out of season 2 honestly. Their interactions are gold.

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope | E | 45,188 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con | @lesdemonium

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier's mother with Jaskier's obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the "gift" became more of a curse.

You know I’m not gonna make a rec list without listing Zoe’s Ella Enchanted au. Need I say more?

Silver and Copper | M | 56,139 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence | @kaer-cuan

Geralt is just supposed to pass through the quiet Lettenhove area. He's not anticipating being begged by its people to help save their viscount from a curse that keeps him from daylight. Lord Jaskier, they call him, and he's likely dying.

As Geralt struggles to untangle the ugly web of history that has lead to the increasingly complicated curse, he finds himself spending more and more time with the strange young viscount and wondering just what he might have been before the curse, and who he might be after. But things are not always as they seem, and as the curse tightens its grip on Jaskier, Geralt is forced to face the fear of failing yet another person whose choices were stolen from them.

Or-

Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

This is a fic that haunts me. It’s very scary in parts, and mind the tags - there are some very heavy themes here. But it’s beautiful and touching, and Jaskier feels very true to himself even though his origin is so different.

we could be married (and then we'd be happy) | E | 50,222 | @a-kind-of-merry-war

Jaskier reached into his pocket, fingers grasping around the little box. He pulled it out with what he hoped was a romantic flourish, flipping it open to reveal the simple gold band inside. “Geralt,” he said, confidently, cooly, like this wasn’t terrifying, “Will you marry me?”

Geralt and Jaskier fake marriage proposals to get free deserts and shit but it goes tits up when Vesemir catches them in the act. Not knowing how to fess up, they go along with it for a while, which is hell because they’re both pining like mad. As I said, I don’t love modern au’s, but it’s merry so of course this one had to end up on my list.

~

And that’s it! 20 fics for you, and hopefully you can all find one or two you haven’t read before. There are a lot of people and fics that I didn’t include in this list only because I was trying to not put a million down (which I could). I highly recommend anything by @wherethewordsare, @julek, @contemplativepancakes, @witcher-and-his-bard, and @inber, as well as those linked to fics above, and I’m sure there are others I forgot to mention. Yall have truly made being in this fandom worthwhile <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic recs #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #witcher #fic recs #fic rec #I'm certain i missed a lot of good ones I've read over the years but I didn't want to risk making this super fucking long anyways #if you didn't see your name listed it isn't bc I don't adore you and your fics it's because i'm stupid <333

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Synopsis: Heisenberg kidnaps the reader. And she’s pissed about it. And so is he. Turns out there’s a lot more to it than it seems, tw: kidnapping I’m not tagging for violence because it’s less graphic than even the mild stuff in canon. Like reader gets a concussion and a dislocated arm, that’s it.

A/N: first time ever writing for Resident Evil. I haven’t even played the games, only watched a play-through and immediately fell in love with this hobo. Honestly, there’s a lot of room to make a sequel or some more from this but I have commitment issues and it probably won’t happen.

Oh and one last thing! Do you think I should add resident evil: village to my fandoms I write for or no. Let me know please!

             It’s dark in your small cottage, claustrophobic with the way you stumble to the front door as fast as you can. You try to take deep breaths, but you can’t, not with someone chasing you. You cut through the kitchen, and when he reaches out to grab you, you slam the door to a cabinet as hard as you can. You can hear his pained yell.

             “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, (y/n),” he says.

             “I’ll make it as hard as I damn please!” You put your hand on the handle to the front door, twist and right before you manage to open it, a body slams into yours and you hear your arm pop. Loudly. And it burns at the elbow like someone poured gasoline on it and set it on fire.

             You can hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air on the crown of your head. “You put up a good fight, I’ll give you that much.” He presses his body further into yours, and you feel everything. The toned muscle under a layer of fat, the harsh fabric of his shirt and jacket, and the bulge that presses into the small of your back.

             “You’re so small,” he coos, like he’s talking to a dog, “I can’t wait to break you.”

             You manage to wiggle one arm free and jab him in the side as hard as you can with your elbow. You hear him say oof under his breath, and you take this as the opportunity to press your foot into the door and push back into him as hard as you can, to at least get him to stumble back.

             It doesn’t work, he just leans his whole-body weight on you and uses one hand to smash your head into the door. He could have done it harder, you reckon, but it still hurts like a mother fucker. “Shut the fuck up before I do something I regret.”

             “Like you don’t already regret breaking into my house and trying to kidnap me? Like you don’t regret slamming me into my door and dislocating my elbow? What are you going to do to me that you’ll regret? Huh?”

             He looks down at you through those yellow glasses of his, light from the glass peephole reflecting off of them but his hat shading the rest of his face. “I said shut the fuck up!” He presses your head even further into the door, and your temple digs into the frame. It hurts, and your eyes water from the pain.

             “Who even are you?!” You end up shouting. His grip loosens a little bit, just enough for you to move your head off the door frame and onto the actual door. “I’ve never met you in my goddamn life and you break into my house, say you love me, and try to kidnap me!”

             Something in him breaks, you can tell, the outline of his features look crestfallen. “You don’t know who I am?”

             “No… I don’t. And here you are in my house, chasing me around like I’m some goddamn animal you’re hunting.” Your eyes water. “I know you don’t mean a damn word you said this entire time.”

             “Shut your goddamn trap woman!” His grip on your hair tightens. “I love you and we both know it; I know everything about you.”

             “So, you’re a stalker? Huh, didn’t think I was pretty enough to have one.”

             “I knew you had a mouth on you, and it was attractive till it was pointed in my direction.” His voice is low and gravelly at this point, like a thin string that’s pulled taut and about to snap.

             “Well get used to it you fu-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, because a piece of metal from his hammer slams you hard in the face, knocking you out cold.

             When you wake up, it’s hard to open your eyes. It’s too bright and the room is spinning when you move your head up. That must be one hell of a bump on your forehead. You go to feel it, only to find you hands chained up to a metal pipe on the wall. Your feet are too, but that chain is a lot slacker.

             You’re lying down on the floor, a cheap scratchy blanket separating you from rough, worn down cement. It’s still hard and cold, but it didn’t scratch up your skin, so that’s something to be grateful for. You look around the room, only to find an old tv, that’s on, and playing static. That’s what was so bright, you realize.

             Suddenly the noise from the t.v. stops, and you hear a voice. It’s still sounds like static, but it’s audible enough to understand the words and recognize the voice. It’s the same guy who kidnapped you. You don’t really process what he’s saying, it’s just noise to you, and you close your eyes and curl up as best as you can. Maybe you’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.

             “Quit ignoring me girlie.”

             You snap out of your daydreaming. The days of that warm bed and leaky bathroom faucet are over, and this cruel situation is your reality for the time being.

             “Okay. Okay. But just quiet down my head hurts.”

             “I’d be sorry, but you brought that upon yourself,” he says.

             You can’t help but be snarky, you’re tired and already sick of this shit. “I’m sorry you don’t have the self-control to not kidnap people and knock them unconscious via flying pieces of metal.”

             “Touché.” You hear back.

             “Can you at least get me some Tylenol for my head or something.”

             “Why should I? After all the attitude you’ve given me, I should just leave you in there to starve.” Looks like he knows how to be snarky too.

             “Because you were the one who hit me in the head and locked me in here?”

             “Apologize and I’ll consider it.”

             You go back to your curled up position. “I guess I’ll just starve down here then.”

             The t.v. cuts off again, or you just tune him out, just run your hands along the chains to try and find a lock. You find the one attached to your left ankle and begin to plot your escape. Maybe you could pick the lock with a bobby pin? You run your hands through your hair, not only to find that it was down, but all of them were removed.

             You run your hands down your pajama pants. Maybe you have something in your pockets? They also turn up empty.

               “Are you looking for something to pick the lock with?” You hear from the t.v. You turn back to look at it, only to see his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and he’s taken off his worn-out bucket hat, so you can see his untamed salt and pepper hair. “I took the liberty of searching your person while you were knocked out. I highly doubt you’ll find something to pick the lock with.”

             “You’re an asshole, you know that.” You find yourself saying. To be fair, you probably shouldn’t, considering that he: is holding you hostage, threatening to leave you to starve, and is clearly a psychopath, despite his claims that he loves you.

             “Calm down, you know it makes me upset to see you mad.”

             You can’t help but raise your voice at him. “Quit fucking taunting me! You won this stupid ass game. You kidnapped me! You can come down here and kill me now!”

             “You think I wanna kill you?” He asks, you can tell he’s just as furious as you are. He chuckles lightly. “You know I love you. I did this for your own good! There are people out there. People who want to taint you and your innocence! People who want to hurt you!”

             “I can handle myself just fine! I had before your psycho ass came along and kidnapped me!” Your furious, desperately searching for a weak point on the pipe with your hands while you yell at the t.v.

             “And what would have happened if I didn’t?” He asks you, “lady supersized bitch in the castle would have gotten to you first… I can’t have that.”

             “I’m sorry who?” You ask. Suddenly things have gotten more confusing.

             “I’m not the only one who’s after you,” he clarifies. “You think I’m the one who’s a psychopath, there’s a woman out there who wants to drink your blood and eat your flesh! And monster that wants to drown you and swallow you whole-”

             “Slow down! I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”

             “Don’t interrupt me! I want what’s best for you!” You can hear him take a deep breath. “I’m going to bring you upstairs and explain everything. And you’re going to behave, am I clear?”

             You just nod your head.

             “Good. Now stop trying to find a weak point on that pipe to get loose before I get down there. It has carbon monoxide in there, you’ll poison yourself before you get to that door.”

             You immediately stop twisting the connector and drop your hands to your sides.

             “Good girl…” His praise makes you want to vomit. “Now stay still while I come get you.”

             When he comes down and opens that iron door and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, you can’t help but comment on it. “Am I a bag of potatoes to you?”

             “Don’t complain, I could be like that Dimitrescu bitch and turn you into wine.”

             You shut up immediately and grasp the back of his coat for balance. You don’t know why, but his empty threats scare you immensely. You watch the hallways blur into one another, trying to see if you can find a window, or an escape rout of some sort, hell, even a vent he couldn’t fit in but you could would work well.

             He smacks your thigh. Not hard, but enough for a slight sting and to get your attention. “We’re in the center of the factory, there’s no need for you to be tracking an escape route, especially because you won’t be leaving any time soon.”

             Eventually, you end up in a small office like space, with a desk, a cork board with several pictures of people on it, and a large grate that leads to a tunnel downwards. He pulls the metal chair out of the corner with his powers and places you in the chair. “Stay.”

             “So…” He turns towards the cork board. “Since your out of town, I’ll explain the run-down-“

             “I don’t really care for the details.” You stand up from the chair and go to walk towards him, but he crosses the room in a second and slams you back down.

             “I told you to stay in that goddamn chair!” He opens his mouth to explain but a whirring noise starts out of nowhere. It’s loud, obnoxious, and coming from the vent. He opens it. “Shut your goddamn trap!”

             “Anyhow, (Y/N),” he starts, “the other three lords decided that they’re interested in you, for whatever their reasons are. I’m assuming they want to kill you.”

             “That’s a veeeeeery extreme assumption.” You roll your eyes, and prop your head on your hands.

             “Well two of them are well know for turning people into dolls and drinking their blood,” he says casually, “it’s only a fair assumption they want to do the same with you.”

             “I’m sorry they what?”

             He turns to you, surprised for a moment that you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Super-sized bitch over here,” a sharp piece of metal lands on the photo of a pale, middle aged woman with bold red lipstick and a black hat, “is one of the other three lords, known for drinking the blood of girls like yourself. Wouldn’t suggest meeting her, she’s not that pleasant.”

             “Known for?”

             “Sort of, most of the towns people don’t know,” he turns to you and leans on the table by the cork board, “they’re too busy worshipping Mother Miranda.”

             “I’ve heard her name before,” you say, “doesn’t she protect the town?”

             You can sense the anger you caused before you can take it back.

             “That Miranda bitch doesn’t protect anybody from shit. She’s the one causing all the issues, kidnapping people and mutating them, killing them and throwing their lives away like table scraps.” You slams his hand on the table and you visibly flinch. He quickly apologizes.

             “You keep mentioning ‘the other three lords’ how many are there, and who’s the one your excluding in that statement?” You question as soon as you get the chance. He’s talking, loudly, quickly and it’s filling up the space in the room with an anxious sort of white noise.

             “Pardon me,” he says, and waltzes over, almost over-dramatically. He brings your hand to his lips and places a light kiss. You can feel his stubble and chapped lips on the top of your hand. He desperately needs to use chap-stick. “I’m Heisenberg, one of the four lords, but you can call me Karl.”

             “Okay… Karl.” You test the name out on your tongue. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m here?”

             He gets down on one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Oh (Y/N), I’m going to treat you how you deserve, like a princess.”

#resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #yandere karl heisenberg #yandere heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #yandere karl heisenberg x reader #tw: kidnapping

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Guest Side Story

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: T Word Count: 3214

Summary: Sam told Bucky not to flirt with Sarah. But this is her house, so Bucky's pretty sure she makes the rules.

Bucky’s missed white lies. Ones that don’t hurt anybody.

“Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your coat, James Barnes?” “No, Ma. ’Course not.”

“And you’re sure this dame knows it’s my arm she’ll be on?” “Sure, Steve. She’s been after me to fix the two of you up for weeks.”

Stuff like that.

Past few years, Bucky’s either been transparent or a brick wall, all lies or all truth. Which one he loses more sleep over just depended on the day. The most human thing, he’s learning, is to work with a little of both: fact and fiction. Give something here, hold something back there. Lying doesn’t have to be mean-spirited and telling the truth doesn’t have to make him feel hollow and guilty. Maybe you can only realize this kinda thing when you find your way home, even if the home isn’t yours.

Bucky’s standing in the kitchen listening to Cass teach him how to fish. It’s purely theoretical, no gear involved, just the overexaggerated motion of Cass’s arm as he mimes casting. Laughing, Bucky lightly grabs the boy’s elbow before it can collide with the refrigerator on an especially big swing. Cass downsizes his demonstration without pausing the excited flow of his instructions.

AJ catches Bucky’s eye; from the look on his face, he’s beginning to suspect that Bucky might already know how to fish. While Cass is focused hard on his hands pretending to show how to fit live bait onto a hook, Bucky smiles at AJ over the smaller boy’s head and raises a finger to his lips. White lies. Let Cass believe he’s the expert.

When Cass is winding down, Bucky moves around him with a grin, carrying an empty plate to the sink.

“I got it!” AJ declares, whisking it from Bucky’s hand and pumping a squirt of dish soap in the center while his other hand runs the hot water.

Cass slotted the Pop-Tarts the plate lately held into the toaster for him (no better end-of-the-day snack, Bucky was told) and now AJ’s cleaning up. They’re a hospitable family, all day long. No phoniness, no insincere offers of help that they’re hoping Bucky won’t take them up on. He actually had to race the kids to the shed to store a toolbox earlier. On the boat, Bucky has room to put in the effort for the Wilsons, but inside the walls of their home he’s not allowed to do a damn thing because he’s a guest. Per square foot of property, he doesn’t think he’s ever been treated this well in someone else’s house.

“Fine,” Bucky concedes, “but I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And don’t get up early to drink a glass of orange juice and try to wash it before I’m awake, ’cause I’ll be listening.”

The boys giggle and Bucky leans against the counter, hovering while AJ hands the plate off for Cass to wipe dry and pretending not to listen to Sam and Sarah talking in the next room.

…But there isn’t a full wall separating the kitchen from the living room and Sam knows Bucky’s hearing’s good, right? He doesn’t think they’re discussing anything that private and if Sam’s annoyed with him later for what he supposes Bucky might’ve heard, Bucky’ll just offer up another white lie and swear he couldn’t hear a thing. And Sarah… Sarah wouldn’t think any worse of him if she knew. Bucky imagines she’d have a lot of compassion for his frequent urge to give Sam a hard time just for the hell of it. He flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, just to see her, and concentrates on what they’re saying, giving himself vague permission because he overheard his name.

“This was your idea,” Sarah’s saying. “You brought the stray cat home, just like when we were kids.”

“Don’t compare him to something cute,” Sam complains. Bucky’s mouth tenses to keep his smile from spreading too far.

“He is a guest in my home, Sam, and he’s more than earned it after the work he’s been putting in with the boat.”

“And what about the work you’ve been putting in watching him do that work?”

“Sam. Grow up.” Sarah’s voice is playful and Bucky almost turns, wondering what her expression looks like.

“So you’ve just been appreciating his skill with a wrench and some sandpaper,” Sam says skeptically.

“If I’m also appreciating his shoulders in that shirt— if—” she emphasizes when Sam tries to interrupt, “—it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Ok, you definitely can’t have him sleeping on the couch.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Try to sneak him to my bedroom after lights out? With you listening, trying to catch us? Uh uh. Your sister is a grown woman with two children, a home, and a boat she couldn’t manage to sell, and she can lust where she damn well pleases.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh and AJ gives him a funny look. Kid’s too perceptive.

“He’s tricky,” Sam lectures. “You can’t see it, but I do. I’ve been around him a hell of a lot more. You think he smiles like that at everybody? If he smiles at me at all, I gotta assume he just looked up and saw a meteor hurtling towards where we’re standing and is only smiling because we’ve got seconds to live and I won’t be able to tell anybody.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re telling me your friend is charming. That’s what you’re describing. Don’t I deserve to be charmed? Where else is he gonna sleep, huh? With you? In one of the boys’ little beds while they share the other one? Because I know you’re not suggesting we skip the pretense and put him right in with me.”

Sam lets out a noise of obvious frustration.

“Time to intervene,” Bucky tells Cass and AJ, leaving them to swap confused shrugs in the kitchen as he saunters into the living room.

“Hey,” Sam greets stonily, arms crossed over his chest.

Just for fun, Bucky decides to be all the friendlier.

“It’s so great of you to put me up. Thanks, Sarah. This beats a hotel by a mile.”

“Our gourmet kitchen does offer an impressive range of sugary cereal,” she jokes. “I might even cook you boys a special breakfast tomorrow before you head back to the dock.”

Bucky’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t wanna—”

“No, it’s no trouble—”

“Well, that would be—”

“Both of you stop it,” Sam orders.

“Sam, go outside,” Sarah orders right back. “Play some tag with your nephews.”

“Sarah, I’m beat. We’ve been working on that boat all day.”

“Mhmm, you and the rest of the neighbourhood. You worked all day and you come home and there’s still two kids to entertain. But guess what?” She smiles deviously at her brother and throws a few fake punches at his stomach. “You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon! Looks like you’re special after all. Me and Bucky here know you’ve still got some gas in the tank. Go on.”

Sam looks fairly planted to the spot as he glares from his sister to Bucky, but he eventually moves with a lurching step.

“I’m gonna be right outside,” he warns.

Bucky sidesteps out of his path and says nothing, though it’s hard to resist the instinct to egg him on.

“We’re gonna have a super-secret discussion about which towels he can use,” Sarah goads at her brother’s back.

Sam ignores her, corralling his nephews in the kitchen and guiding them out the door into the fading daylight with a hand on each of their narrow backs.

“Great kids,” Bucky observes.

Sarah nods, watching her family disappear, then turns to him.

“We’re not really gonna talk about towels.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise in surprise and delighted anticipation until Sarah grabs a folded blanket off the back of the couch and passes it to him.

“We’re making up the couch.”

“Oh.”

This is ok too. Actually, really nice, standing next to Sarah and unfolding the blanket as she stuffs a pillow into a clean case. Her eyes find his already on her and he swears he almost blushes; he’s been smoothing out the same crease in this blanket for a good thirty seconds with no result, just watching her easy movements, the way she flips her braids back when they fall forward over her shoulder.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” she says, lingering once they’re done.

“I woulda slept on the floor. A closet, even, like Harry Potter.”

“You read Harry Potter? Don’t tell the boys—they’ll be bugging you to play wizards with them.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, I just watched the movie.”

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“You really better not bring it up then,” Sarah advises. “They’d try to tell you everything at once.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in out of my depth.”

It feels like a significant look they exchange after his words. Bucky wants it to be—he thinks he does—but he feels awkward, romantically clumsy. Heartstrings tied together like shoelaces, waiting to trip him up. He’s been telling himself she’s only being kind, but after eavesdropping on her conversation with Sam, he knows she’s interested. In his shoulders at the very minimum. Was that right? His shoulders? Just in case, Bucky does his best to square them. Can’t hurt.

He’s fucking ecstatic when Sarah does glance down briefly, her gaze returning to his face with something flustered in it. Sure, she’s a mom and she runs a business, but it’s like she told Sam: she deserves to be charmed. Bucky’s not entirely sure he’s doing it right though.

“So,” she says, “Sam was just being a pain when he tried to convince me you can’t sleep on the couch because you’ve got a bad back, right?”

Bucky sighs but keeps smiling. It’s natural in her presence.

“I’d say that’s him making old-man jokes about me.”

“I apologize for my brother and his bad manners.”

“Ah, he’s not totally wrong,” he concedes, perching on the arm of the couch. “These last few birthdays have required more candles than you could fit on a cake.”

“Then you just have to get yourself a bigger cake.”

Bucky laughs.

“I guess optimism’s pretty much a family trait?”

“We work at it. They say you need to take the good with the bad, but they don’t tell you that means creating the good out of nothing a lot of the time, if you want any at all. The Wilsons worked that out some time ago, so we mostly do alright.”

“It’s a good feeling to be around,” he tells Sarah earnestly. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet. “Feels good, being around you.”

“We’re… I’m happy you could stay with us.”

The light’s softened in the room and her voice has gone with it. Bucky shifts on his feet.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he assures her.

Sarah’s eyelashes flutter when she looks from his mouth to his eyes. Probably too try-hard to bite his lip now. God, Sam thinks Bucky’s so suave with Sarah, but it feels like he’s only got one move and it’s fucking smiling. Some Casanova he is. Sarah, meanwhile, is beautiful and authoritative and generous and moving closer to toss the pillow he’ll rest his head on tonight onto the couch.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” she asks, gaze slipping from one of his eyes to the other. “Another pillow? Pajamas?”

“I’ve got some, but…”

“But?”

Sarah gives him a questioning look and Bucky starts summoning the courage to make a move. He’ll touch her waist—no, take her hand. He’ll cup her sweet face so there’s no doubt what he means.

“But,” he picks up, “if I get cold in the night…”

There’s longing in her eyes, Bucky knows it, but Sam bangs in the screen door right then, one nephew squealing where he’s been slung over Sam’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam announces loudly to the house at large, “that’s it! No more gas in the tank! Everybody get to bed!”

Sarah appears sorry as she steps back. Bucky almost reaches out to pull her in, to take another shot with another lousy line. Shit, he’s bad at this.

“There are more blankets in the hall closet,” she says, and slips away.

“Thank you,” he calls after her.

Sam walks past, Cass still dangling upside-down over his back while AJ runs ahead, and watches Bucky like a hawk (or some other bird of prey) as he digs through his overnight bag. What’s Sam expecting him to pull out? A strip of condoms? Bucky extracts a green toothbrush and holds it up with an expression of fake wonder. Sam rolls his eyes and heads off down the hall.

They are going to bed early, barely 9pm. That’s probably late for the kids though. Bucky’s pleasantly weary after a day outdoors, more working than talking, feeling like part of something as the Wilsons’ community came together to repair the boat. Seeing Sarah throughout. Flashing Bucky a smile while she spoke to a neighbour, grasping his outstretched hand to let him help her aboard so she could see their progress, checking Sam’s work like she’s his foreman while Bucky grinned and watched the siblings good-naturedly pick at each other. Sam was probably out like a light and Bucky should be too.

He’s not.

He can’t get to sleep right away, but it’s peaceful to lie here on the couch, on his back, while the house gets dark and darker. Sarah left the nearest window cracked for him and a gentle breeze washes in with the chirp of insects. Bucky’s already looking forward to being woken by the sun streaming through in the morning. It’d be good to get from now to daylight in a single stretch of sleep; that’s what he fantasizes about while he lies on his back: no nightmares. His head’s propped up by the pillow he tells himself smells like Sarah, though it probably just smells like her laundry soap.

It’s hard to put his finger on what’s missing, why he can’t fall asleep, until he hears the soft shuffle of footsteps on carpet. They’re too close together to be Sam’s—either hesitant or made by child-sized feet. Bucky cranes his neck around, expecting to see someone walk past on their way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His gaze roams over nothing for a minute, then he slumps back as the footsteps retreat. Maybe it was Sam after all, getting up to look in on his nephews or something. It’s the sorta thing Bucky would do if he were an uncle; he’d treasure the time with those kids, try to remember everything about his visit so he could hang on to it when he found himself half a world away, in Berlin or Riga or Madripoor.

He’s settling, trapping the blanket against his chest with a heavy hand, when he hears the footsteps approach again. Then back away seconds later. Slowly, Bucky starts to smile to himself. It’s Sarah. Can only be her. She’s either trying to psych herself up to come in here and talk to him and failing, or trying to resist venturing down the hall and succeeding.

On her next attempt, she gets closer, and Bucky sits up, kicking the blanket aside, and drops his feet to the floor in anticipation of her rounding the corner. He’s nervously gripping the couch cushion on either side of his knees when she does.

“You sneaking past Sam?” he asks quietly.

Sarah jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me. I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

Bucky shrugs, dreamily fixated on her smile. One of her neighbours turns on their porchlight and now Sarah can probably see his smile too.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

“Shoot. Did you need something else?”

Kinda funny how she’s pretending she was coming out here for another reason and is just making a detour for him. He knows better, but he’s got enough remnants of being a gentleman not to call her out on it.

“Nah. It’s nothing to do with you.” Bucky stares at her a few seconds and changes his mind. “You know what? Actually, it is you.”

“What is?” Sarah asks with a hushed, confused laugh.

“The reason I can’t get to sleep. Sarah…”

But she smiles and does what he did to the boys earlier—holds a finger to her lips.

With the confidence of a woman at ease in her own home and her own body, she steps forward. She wore a yellow t-shirt today, but the one she wears now is pale pink. It’s loose and worn and reveals the strong, elegant curve of her shoulder when she moves and it slips. Gazing up at her, Bucky shifts until he feels the back of the couch. His hands hover in the air as Sarah digs one knee, then the other, into the cushion on either side of him. She lowers herself onto his thighs.

Moving slow like the hour, deep like the black sky, Bucky runs his hands up her back.

Sarah’s palms land on his shoulders and, smiling, she confesses to him, “I like these.”

He’s smirking when she ducks her head to kiss him.

Now that he has her here—on his lap, in his arms—Bucky forgets every way he wanted to touch her earlier. How he was gonna woo her with tender contact applied just right. Well, thank god for Sarah. She sets the pace of the kiss and, when his hands go still at her upper back, reaches around to bring one of them back down to her waist. He can feel that there’s no bra beneath her shirt.

“Rusty,” he breathes when their mouths slide apart.

“You were on that old boat all day,” she reminds him. “You know I’ve got patience for rusty.”

Still, Bucky wants to do a little better, prove that maybe he’s what she had in mind when she decided he was worth smiling at. He cradles Sarah closer, pulling her in, dipping his fingers into the valley of her spine when she arches into him. They kiss firmer, then faster. At her quick nod of encouragement, he moves his hands to her hips. Lower.

“Sarah?” Sam slurs sleepily from down the hall. “You outta bed?”

Sarah presses a hand to Bucky’s chest and pushes off his lap, other hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. He chuckles too.

“As the Falcon, timing is one of his greatest strengths.”

“And as his sister,” Sarah counters, “it gets on my last nerve.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna say that, but…” Bucky grins.

“Sarah?” Sam calls out again.

She sighs.

“Is he trying to wake the boys?” She takes a step away from the couch, wearing a regretful smile. “I better go.”

Bucky catches himself before he can blurt out I’ll miss you. Overeager fool.

“See you in the morning?” Sarah checks, something shy about her now, but not in a bad way. Cautiously hopeful, Bucky thinks. He’s been feeling that way himself.

He gives her one more smile for the road.

“You bet.”

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #bucky x sarah #Sarah Wilson

[alpineandbucky]

happy day two of doMAYstic! quick note for this ficlet: it takes place in my sunshine 'verse, but you don't have to have read that first!

based off of this post about steve's baby shoes

Fandom: Marvel/Captain America Pairing: Steve Rogers/James “Bucky” Barnes Rating: General Audiences Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Slice of Life

“Last box!” Steve calls out as he unceremoniously drops the box labeled ‘towels and stuff’ on the bathroom counter. 

“Thanks, Stevie,” Bucky hollers back, his voice echoing through the mostly-empty house. Boxes are stacked all over the home, the contents of their shared apartment divided into categories such as ‘kitchen’ and ‘bucky’s things!!!’. “Might wanna go ahead and unbox them,” he continues. “I don’t know about you, pal, but I’m gonna want a shower tonight.” 

Steve laughs as he tears off the tape and begins unpacking the towels. The linens are shoved haphazardly into the box, evidence that Bucky had a hand in the packing. Instead of folding the towels and placing them in the box in any semblance of order, it seems that Bucky had simply scooped them off of the shelf and straight into the box. 

It would be infuriating if Steve didn’t love him so damn much. 

He pulls each towel out of the box, folding it carefully before stacking them on the counter for them to use later. By the time he reaches the bottom of the pile, Steve can’t help but wonder how they ended up with so many towels. Steve only ever uses one for both his hair and body, and sure, Bucky’s a fan of wrapping his hair up after a bath, but there’s no reason that two people need twelve towels. 

“Buck, we’ve gotta get rid of some of these,” Steve says, voice raised so that Bucky can hear him where he is, padding around in the connected bedroom. “I don’t even know what we would do with this many–” His voice trails off as a small canvas bag falls out from amidst the towels. 

This must be the aforementioned ‘and stuff,’ he realizes. 

The bag is small, and Steve cradles it in the palm of his hand as he takes a closer look. The drawstring is pulled tight, and the contents are soft to the touch. Steve’s never seen the bag before, and he can’t help but feel curious about the small parcel nestled in his hand. 

The contrast between this package and the rest of the box’s contents is stark; while the towels were carelessly thrown in, the bag was obviously wrapped with care, padded between the various linens. 

Steve pulls the drawstring loose and tips the bag over with a glance toward the door, catching the contents in an open palm. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the tiny, infant-sized shoes that come tumbling out.

“Uh, Buck?” Steve says, his wide eyes still glued to the shoes in his hands. They’re small, tinier than shoes have any right to be, and Steve wants to coo at how cute they are, despite his confusion.

“What’s up?” Bucky asks as his head pops through the doorway, hand resting on the jamb as he leans in. His gaze shifts from Steve to the shoes in his hand, and a soft smile takes over his features. “Oh, good, you found them.”

“Uh,” Steve blinks, his brow furrowing as he stares at the shoes. “What– What are they, exactly?” 

Bucky pushes off the doorway and makes his way into the bathroom, tucking himself between Steve and the counter before plucking the shoes out of Steve’s hand and resting them on a metal palm. “They’re yours.”

Steve feels like they’re having two separate conversations, can’t make sense of what Bucky is saying, as he remains unable to pull his eyes from the tiny shoes. “Uh,” he says again, and Bucky laughs. 

“They were on display in that new exhibit’a yours,” he explains, raising his eyebrows as if Steve were the one being ridiculous. Steve leans closer, peering at the shoes balanced atop Bucky’s fancy new prosthetic hand. Now that Bucky’s said as much, it’s obvious that the shoes are anything but modern. They’re old and worn; the fabric that was surely once white is now a hazy yellow. 

“Why are they here?” Steve can’t help but ask. Bucky’s cheeks pink up at the question, the humor leaving his eyes as he places the shoes on the counter beside him, taking Steve’s hands in his own. 

“Well,” he starts, “I saw ’em when Sam and I were there a few months back, and I swear I couldn’t stop thinking about ’em. They’ve just,” he cuts himself off with a shake of his head expression becoming pinched. “They’ve taken so much from you, Steve. I couldn’t let them take these, too.” 

Bucky looks so earnest, so steadfast, that Steve can’t help but squeeze his hand. “Buck,” he starts, but Bucky barrels on before Steve can get the words out. 

“So I stole them. I mean, what are they gonna do? Arrest me?” he laughs again, eyes crinkling at the humor in his own joke, and Steve finds himself chuckling along. 

“Bucky,” he chides, though there is no heat behind the words. Unpacking forgotten, Steve pulls Bucky into his arms and presses a soft kiss to his lips. Bucky’s arms come up to wrap around his middle, chin hooked over his shoulder as he holds Steve close.

written for @domaystic day two, prompt: unboxing and finding something from the past

#domaystic2022 #day 2 #stucky #stevebucky #stucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #liloau #allie writes #ficlet

[crispyjenkins]

Rexobi. I really just wanna see Rex and Obi-wan drinking together and complaining about the disaster that is Anakin Skywalker. They decide to team up to get anakin to calm the heck down and to talk about his feelings. Anakin doesn’t realize what’s going on but gets the idea he needs to play matchmaker with his master and his captain. He thinks he’s the smart one but he’s really not

(i have once again chickened out of your full prompt and instead give you the leadup to rexobi getting anakin to talk about his feelings. 

i uhhh may be unable to think of anything but a rexobi au à la this post by @norcumii and @dharmaavocado about roleswap-ish senior padawan obi hella vibing with this mutant clone that can’t get above the rank of captain even as an arc trooper because the kaminoans are Like That, and qui-gon is going spare, because between anakin somehow being allowed to be in charge of a whole battalion and obi-wan picking fights with every single seperatist leader, he and cody never get a moment of peace. and like. just obi and rex being dumbass 20 year olds trying to deal with a general/master like anakin in the middle of a war. i don’t have TIME for that though

thank you for the prompt as always, i think this is the only rexobi/obex prompt i’ve ever gotten and this ship is criminally underappreciated. like?? kadavo?? anyways here’s whatever this is)

Alt+R to Quick Reblog on Desktop, Hold the Reblog Symbol to Quick Reblog on Mobile

 Not for the first time, Rex wishes Kote were the one here dealing with this, because “how to comfort your favorite Jedi” hadn’t exactly been covered in ARC training – actually, Alpha probably withheld the information on purpose, the fucker.

  But Kote is on the other side of the galaxy with the 187th and just as upset they’re not here in Rex’s stead: it’s barely a month off General Kenobi returning to his own face, and Rex knows his vod would strangle the entire Senate if given even half a chance for deploying them separately on their general’s first mission back after the Hardeen... incident. 

  And Fett’s Ghost knows Rex’s own general is going to pitch a fit when he finds out Rex is here instead of taking leave like the rest of the 501st, but Kote certainly wasn’t about to let Kenobi go all the way to Alderaan unguarded so soon after his supposed death; and honestly, Rex would have been offended if they had asked anybody else to do it. Thankfully, Kenobi hadn’t seemed offended when Rex had shown up at the Jedi Temple’s flight hangar before he could take off; instead, he had been rather amused. 

  Even luckier, Alderaan is barely a day’s jump from Coruscant, so they don’t have to spend too much time awkwardly pretending that Rex hadn’t attended the man’s funeral in Kote's place (that he would have attended anyways), or that Rex doesn’t know Anakin hasn’t spoken to his former master since their debrief to the High Council about Cad Bane. Which Rex should absolutely not know in the first place, but Anakin is his friend, for better or for worse, and Ahsoka thinks her master airs far too many of his grievances to his captain.

  It isn't until their cruiser is making the descent over Alderaan that Kenobi finally addresses the tension between them, which only proves that Kenobi is well aware of it, but had put it off as long as he could. It's a humanising observation, that Rex wishes he could have had when he isn't the only vod in a ten mile radius that isn't the pilot, because at least then he wouldn't be the sole receiver of the soft smile Kenobi gives him as he joins Rex to wait by the shuttle's access hatch.

  Rex thanks his progenitor's laughing corpse he has his bucket on, because all he can do is stare. 

  "You are worried about Anakin," Kenobi says matter of factly, though not unkindly, and Rex lets out a breath that's almost a laugh. 

  "I promise I am far more discrete with my thoughts in the field, sir."

  Kenobi chuckles warmly, tucking his arms behind his back to watch the planet under them grow larger as they approach. "Do try not to worry so much, my dear, this will all resolve itself in time." 

  It's hard to stare right at his gentle assuredness, so Rex looks away. "You have far more faith in his ability to forgive than I, sir."

  That laugh strains at the edges. "Yes, well, I'm afraid some of my lessons seem to have been... lacking."

  Rex has regs carbon-printed on his brain, he knows that even without the direct chain of command, the soft push and pull of his relationship with Kenobi, the steady, serene growth of it, is... problematic, for so many reasons that he wouldn't know where to start. Not least of all is rank, how much more important a Jedi is than a replaceable CC-track washout, but, well, Rex had washed out for being too emotional, so it's not as if he's exactly unused to reacting to things inappropriately for a good little soldier.

  "It's not my place, sir," he murmurs, remembering Kadavo, remembering Umbara, remembering the hand Kenobi had laid on his shoulder for far too long after the Blue Shadow virus, and has Rex really been this gone since then? "just say the word and I won't mention it again. But just because Kote isn't here doesn't mean you have to... shoulder all of this alone."

  In fact, it's wildly not his place to make such an offer, however implicit, but that month on Kadavo did happen, and Rex isn't so self-deprecating to believe he  hadn't had a heavy hand in helping Kenobi make it out on the other side as well as he did. He doesn't think so little of the bond they had formed then, to believe that Obi-Wan is unaware of it. 

  Not when he smiles at Rex like that, like he's a warm cup of caf after a week in the trenches, like Rex is... worthy of such sincere affection. 

  As the shuttle settles around them and the pilot announces their arrival over comm, Obi-Wan simply says, "I did not for a moment believe I was, my dear."

-

  "You and Rex seem close."

  Normally Obi-Wan can feel Anakin coming from an entire corridor away, but he also knows Quinlan has been teaching him a few Shadow tricks, so he isn't entirely surprised when Anakin appears at his elbow in the empty bridge looking like a smug necu.

  Aside from eating firstmeal with Kote in the mess, Obi-Wan hasn't even seen Rex today, much less interacted with him: as he understands it, Rex is trying to round up the remaining 501st shinies that are running around the Negotiator, so Obi-Wan really doesn't know where Anakin had gotten that notion. Recently, at least. 

  Anakin rolls his eyes and scoffs, leaning back on the railing next to him and crossing his arms. "Please, Master, even Snips has noticed."

  Obi-Wan refrains from telling him that anyone with a modicum more self-awareness than him has noticed. Be that as it may, "This is one of those times where I truly don't know what you're trying to say, my dear: I have been close with Rex since he was in the 212th."

  It isn't even an exaggeration, that there had been... something between them before Anakin whisked Rex away to his own battalion after his knighting, though back then it had been nothing more than friendship. If he recalls correctly, and he does, the cleanup of the Ryloth capitol had been the first time since then that they had worked closely, while Anakin had been on the ground with the locals and Mace had been with General Syndulla, and Obi-Wan had found he still quite enjoyed the way they worked together. Their time on Naboo combating the Blue Shadow virus had only endeared the captain more to him —he does remember a slip in propriety in his relief that Rex had been rescued safely with Padmé and Ahsoka, a hand left too long on the captain's shoulder until Kote had called him away— enough that Obi-Wan had been both relieved and horrified that it was Rex there to support him on Kadavo.

  "Cody said Rex was the one to go with you to Alderaan; you sure nothing 'happened' while you were there?" Anakin chuckles to himself like he's being incredibly clever, like there isn’t a hickey visible over the collar of his under tunic.

  Obi-Wan raises a brow slowly and refrains from rolling his eyes. "Despite what you may believe, Anakin, not everyone leaps into committed relationships after life-threatening situations." Not that Alderaan had been life-threatening, it had actually been as close to actual leave as Obi-Wan has had the entire war.

  "Please, it took Padmé and I ages to–" 

  Anakin seems to swallow his tongue, then, face rapidly going purple, and it really is a miracle the entire Republic doesn’t know about his marriage; the GAR certainly does.

  Sighing, Obi-Wan checks the chrono and decides it isn't too early for another cup of tea. "If you have a specific question about my relationship with Captain Rex, I do wish you’d be direct, my dear."

  Anakin splutters. "Relationship?!"

  "Great Maker, Anakin, you’re easier to spook than a half-starved blurrg." He pats Anakin’s arm, his sonbrother floundering for anything other than abject confoundment, as Obi-Wan turns away from the bridge to go locate both tea, and his commander to hopefully finalise their newest mission orders. "Don't worry," he calls over his shoulder, "I'll actually let you come to the wedding, unlike someone."

  Not that Obi-Wan has any such plans, Maker knows he and Rex have yet to address their feelings in the first place, but he'd be lying if part of him doesn't want to conspire with the captain in question —and perhaps Ahsoka— to see just how far they could take this before Anakin realises they're stringing him along. 

 Remarkably, Rex is waiting by Obi-Wan’s office with a flimsi cup of tea and a harried smile that promised quite the day chasing after shinies, and Obi-Wan decides conning his former apprentice can wait.

Mando’a: vod/e — “brother/s”, “comrade/s”, “sibling/s”, technically gender neutral but used most often in fandom as “brother/s”

#crispy writes #rexobi #obex #pre relationship #everybody get on the fucking kote train choo choo #non binary cody #someone please come ship this with me we're so dry for fanart #prequel trilogy #clone wars #ask #theclonewarsbrokeme #prompt #fill #sonbrother will never not amuse me #there is a lot less angst and injury in this than initially planned #but then realised what i'd written was basically 'got me in a tricky situation' by dharmaavocado #so #almost no angst for y'all today #*does a lil jig* feelin disgusting about all these likes from people that preach about reblogging from artists #like i'm not mad just confused #😔

[stellar-imagines]

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝stupid rumour.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Bakugou Katsuki ]

「 Bakugou who has a crush on you ― the transfer student who has trouble speaking and writing Japanese but can understand the language He helps you on your language skills and develops a crush on you. Then you heard rumours of Bakugou liking Uraraka and you started become distant.」

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

"I thought I told how to do this one so many times and how did you manage to fuck it up?" Bakugou groaned, looking through your midterm paper.

"I'm really trying my best but kanji is just no good for me alright?" you grumbled, snatching the paper from his hands. It was quite embarrassing to be struggling with Japanese literature and other subjects.

Sure you were born and raised in Japan but due to some business issues, your family had to move to [Preferred Country]. And to be honest, you spent most of your life in [Preferred Country] instead of Japan so you weren't really familiar with kanji at all. It wasn't only kanji, its just the Japanese language in general. You didn't have much problems talking but when it comes to reading and writing, it was a problem so when it comes to studying, you were in big trouble. You have been whining about failing your tests and Bakugou — who happened to be your personal tutor. He got tired of your whining and decided to help you in hopes of making you shut up.

You can't really tell why Bakugou decided to help you in the first place. The two of you never got along that well to begin with. The ash blonde was very competitive by nature and when you showed promise during training, he seemed to have made you his target somehow. Bakugou never actually cared about the people in the class but you were different somehow. He was always easy to rile up and you enjoy messing around with him sometimes. It was almost safe to say that you spend most of your time with him. 

Since the day you transferred into UA, you struggled with your studies. Kanji now appeared to be an alien language to you and during tests, you struggled to understand the question. Bakugou picks up the scattered paper on your desk one by one, skimming through your mistakes and assessing your performance. You didn’t do that bad and only failed Japanese History and Literature. Your scores were really low and it barely hit the passing mark. 

Sometimes you like to think that you and Bakugou had something special but you're just a transfer student. Bakugou and Uraraka probably have a relationship that you could never understand. He respects Uraraka's strength after that one incident during the Sports Festival tournament. You stared at the two who happened to be queueing for lunch, having a conversation that you can't hear from where you were sitting. After a while, you took your eyes off them and sipped your drink.

"Do you think he likes her, [First Name]?"

"I'm sorry what?" you blinked, turning your attention towards Hagakure who sat across you.

"I'm talking about Ochaco-chan and Bakugou-kun!" the invisible girl gushed, her sleeves waving about to show her excitement. You blinked a couple of times, unable to process. Judging from her tone, you assumed that she thought you understood what was going on between the two. However, that wasn't the case, you yourself are clueless.

"But [First Name]-chan and Bakugou-kun are close in their own way too! Something going on between the two of you?" Ashido who was sitting next to you decided to direct the topic towards you instead.

"Nothing is going on between us. In fact, I think at some point he's gonna stop teaching me because of how I always disturb him." you muttered with a chuckle.

"Typical Bakugou. You can still join our studying sessions if you want. My offer still stands." Yaoyorozu smiled gently. You shook your head in response and gave the same answer as you did when the black haired girl proposed the idea to you.

Originally, it was Aizawa who forced Bakugou to tutor you in the first place. You had failed your tests miserably at first and your homeroom teacher seemed to notice that you struggled with communication sometimes. And Aizawa had this crazy idea to assign Bakugou to tutor you. He had hoped that the ash blonde will grow to become more social and cooperative. Honestly, you thought that it was such a bad idea at first. Bakugou was very rough with his words, impatient and is short tempered. You've tried to be nice and dismiss his behavior but at some point you just found him very amusing. You weren't sure if the two of you actually got along well or not.

However, you like to think that you both are actually on good terms. Even though he gets frustrated whenever you struggle to solve a question, he would leave you alone and give you pointers. He also likes to reward you with small treats like your favorite snacks and drinks. Bakugou also pays attention to your behavior a lot. Since the two of you are always studying everyday after school, there will be times where you will be so worn out from training. If that's the case, Bakugou will go easier on you.

"I've heard from someone that Bakugou has feelings for her since first year." Hagakure whispered as she saw Uraraka approach the table. The conversation was cut short when your brown haired friend arrived at the table with her pork katsu don. She looked between everyone, wondering why you all grew silent all of a sudden.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asked, taking a seat next to you. Acting completely natural like a smartass you were, you decided to just continue eating your lunch as if you were never a part of the conversation to begin with.

"We were talking about how there's this rumour of Bakugou having a crush on you since first year." Ashido chirped. Uraraka let out a noise akin to surprise before waving her hands defensively.

"Wh-Wha!? That's not possible!" she said quickly before glancing over at the ash blonde and then towards you.

"Why not?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"W-Well, that's because....." the girl seemed a bit nervous and you see her glancing at Bakugou a couple of times.

You rested your elbow on the table, letting out a knowing hum. It didn't take long for you to get the hint that Uraraka might actually reciprocate his feelings. A small frown was etched on your face as you looked away from the girl seated next to you. Bakugou would never just suddenly stop to stare at someone, especially knowing that he can be caught staring. It was just as you had suspected earlier. 'To think that I thought there's something special between me and Bakugou.' you thought to yourself, keeping yourself out of the conversation while the girls teased Uraraka for getting so defensive.

The next day, Bakugou was packing his things and thinking ahead. He could already hear you grumbling something to yourself as you cleared your own desk, preparing to head back. There was a homework assigned to everyone and you will — for sure — be begging him to help you with it, even though its due in 2 weeks and you have plenty of time. Just as he was about to call out your name, Kaminari and Kirishima approached his desk.

“Hey Bakugou! Some of us are planning to go watch a movie after school, want to join?" Kirishima asked. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at this, looking slightly annoyed.

"Why would I wanna go with you extras?" the ash blonde grumbled.

"Because it will be fun! Everyone is coming right?" Kaminari turned towards the group of girls that has gathered around your desk.

"Yeah, most of us are!" Ashido chirped happily. 

"Come on Bakugou-kun! I think its a great opportunity for you and [First Name]-chan to take a break once in a while. And besides, she's been looking forward to this movie." Uraraka told the ash blonde.

Bakugou glanced over at you, seeing that you were somewhat looking forward to relax today. It was Friday, and probably the best day to take a break from all that studying. The ash blonde had been pushing you a bit too hard and maybe this is his chance. Bakugou reluctantly agreed but not before telling them to not chose some stupid movie. He shook his head, telling himself that he's not doing this just because he thinks that you deserve a break and that he likes you or anything. Just as he finished packing, he looked over towards you, seeing Hagakure approach your table with a skip.

"[First Name], let's go watch a movie! Even Bakugou is joining! Ochaco-chan just invited him." she exclaimed, motioning to the ash blonde who glared back at her. Your excitement died down a bit, glancing between your invisible friend and Bakugou.

"Um, I think I will pass! I think I'm gonna start with that homework we're given, it's gonna take me a while to finish that after all." you said, quickly gathering your items.

Seeing you leave the class quickly made him confused. Uraraka muttered about how weird it was for you to skip out on going out, especially knowing that you were all going to go watch a movie that you have been looking forward to for so long. Bakugou decided that it was not worth his time to think too much into it and leave you be. He's not your babysitter and it doesn't matter to him what you do anyways. All while he was watching movie, he was thinking about how you should've been here watching the movie.

Just when he thought your behavior on that day was only you not being your normal self ― you did something that he had never expected before. It happened on the day after the movies. He had already expected you to be knocking onto his door and begging him to explain to you about all the homeworks that were given and about that Science quiz on Monday. Sure you came to his room with a handful of your notes and textbooks ― like usual. Your hair was slightly messy from hurrying to meet up with him at the same time ― like usual. It was nothing out of the ordinary, something you both were accustomed to. You always came late, looking like you just rolled off the bed and went straight here.

It was the same old routine until he heard those words.

"Sorry Bakugou! I'm going to be studying with Momo-chan today, she's offered to partner up for the Japanese History project." you announced.

"Hah?" was all Bakugou could only respond with. He was confused. Normally, you would be begging him to become your partner because you're so used to him. What has changed in you?

"Also.....she offered to help me with my studies so you don't have to waste your time on me anymore. Thanks, Bakugou. I won't be bothering you starting from today onwards." you bowed and quickly left him behind.

'Whatever, I don't care.' was what Bakugou said to himself.

There was so much that he wanted to tell you. But he made no effort to call out to you as you hurriedly made a run for it to the elevator. He shouldn't be bothered by this so much. After all, he was only teaching you because Aizawa told him to. The ash blonde told himself that over and over but he couldn't help but longingly stare at your back as you ran away from him as if he was the plague. 'There's no turning back on this. I made up my mind to not be a burden anymore!’ you told yourself. From that point on, you made it a goal to not interact with Bakugou at all.

He was already confused to why you decided to have him to stop tutoring you in the first place. Bakugou didn't seem to bothered by it that much but it did make a lot of people ask him about what happened between the two of you. The two of you were normally seen together most of time and to see you both on your own is just weird. You were now spending time with the girls most of the time and instead of Bakugou, you had moved on to asking other people to assist you with homework.

He wasn't going to lie but the thought of you running to others and asking for help didn't sit well with him.

Today after school, you were seen in the common area doing your homework together with Yaoyorozu. Bakugou had went down from his room to get himself a drink. Now that he doesn't have to teach you anymore, he was much more free. He could finish his homework much faster than usual. Bakugou watched as you grinned happily after being praised for getting some work done. On his way to the kitchen, he passed by Kirishima who looked like he was taking a break from his own studying. 

"Hey, did you two have an argument or something?" Kirishima asked Bakugou who had opened the fridge to get his drink.

"Hah? What you on about?"

"I'm talking about [First Name]. All of a sudden you stopped partnering with her and tutoring her." the red haired mentioned as he looked over at you.

"Why should I care what she does anyway? She's not my girlfriend!" he said, glancing at you in hopes that you did not hear him at all. Lucky for him, you were too immersed in the conversation that you were having with your partner to even care about what was going on in the kitchen.

"But don't you both like each other or something?"

"Who said that!?"

"It's pretty obvious, bro."

Bakugou really doesn't want to admit it but he really likes you ― a bit too much that its starting to get obvious. He was now starting to get worried that you might catch on to his feelings. He looked at you for a moment, watching as you worked on a few tough questions, eyes narrowed at the book in front of you. It was a habit that he learned after being with you for so long and he never said it out loud but you look very cute like that. After a while, Midoriya and Uraraka joined you and Yaoyorozu. Bakugou's eyes narrowed at Midoriya who was helping you with some of the questions.

That should've been him! ― was what he told himself. 

Little did he know, you heard the commotion in the kitchen. Though whatever Kirishima and Bakugou was talking about was unknown to you, you could feel them looking at you. Shaking your head in response, you reminded yourself that you vowed to not get in Bakugou's way anymore. When Midoriya and Uraraka joined your study session, you decided to just focus on your homework now. You can’t lie about the fact that you missed Bakugou’s company. Even though he was always impatient and complaining about how slow you are, he never once left you on your own. Not to mention, he was surprisingly a great teacher.

The Bakusquad ― Bakugou never really liked and approval of that name ― were hanging out in the common area. Bakugou was here against his will, dragged by Kirishima and Kaminari who wanted to play some games together. At the dining table, a few students from Class 1-A were gathered around sharing some treats while the Bakusquad played some games by the couch. Bakugou was seated on one end of the two seater sofa, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and rethinking his life choices.

"There was this rumour that you like Uraraka or something." Kirishima mused while he looked through his phone.

"What?" Kaminari suddenly perked up, drawing his attention away from the video game.

"Hah?" Bakugou raised an eyebrow.

”I’m talking about Bakubro here!” the red head male spoke a bit louder to gain the other boys’ attention.

”Oh now that you mention it, I remember! There was this rumour going on about Bakugou liking Uraraka or something.” Sero piped up, not drawing his eyes away from the game he was playing against Kaminari.

“I thought Bakugou was dating [Last Name] already.” Kaminari pointed out.

”I know right?! I know they both like each other but are afraid to admit it.” Kirishima added in with a triumphant smile.

“No one fucking said that.” Bakugou glared at the boys who began to give him the looks.

”Come on, you were so overprotective of her at that one time when we studied in the library together!” Kirishima started, now his posture upright and eyes filled with determination.

”Oh right! When there were these random people hitting on her, you sure told them off!” Kaminari added to Kirishima’s anecdote.

”But there seems to be some tension between the two of you right now.” the blonde hummed, pausing the game to turn his attention to the conversation.

It took him that conversation to actually realize how much your ignorance has affected him. Not only did you decide not to ask for his help anymore, but you made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. You avoided sitting with him during lunch, not partnering up with him during hero training and clearly turning down invites from your friends whenever you hear that Bakugou will be joining as well. He had confronted you in front of everyone, demanding you to meet up with him. 

And of course, it was hard to run away when he asked you right in front of everyone. The only solution Bakugou came up to get you back and clear this up was to confess his undying love to you. 

You were really nervous to talk to him and for some reason, you had a feeling that you were going to have your heart broken. Bakugou, by all means, isn't oblivious and notices a lot of things around you. So it was no surprise that he realized that something is up with you and that you are ignoring him. He probably has figured out the reason behind you avoiding him already. And you couldn't help but think your reason was really dumb.

“Look, I have no idea what you’re telling but let me just say this.” you started it first, as you don’t wanna regret not saying anything any sooner.

”But I want to tell you that I don’t want to get in your way anymore. And I approve if you want to date Ochaco-chan." you were fiddling with your fingers. So you were aware of this rumour but never made the move to ask Bakugou himself if this was true and decided to just blindly believe in some stupid rumour that some random extra had spread. Bakugou almost wanted to strangle whoever did this because it gave you stupid ideas.

"You are a fucking idiot for believing in some extra's words instead of asking me. Why the hell did you avoid me instead of confront me about the rumours, hah?" the ash blonde was trying his best to remain calm and patient.

"Because.....I was afraid that those rumours are true." you admitted.

"And I'm here to tell you that its not fucking true. Round Face is madly in love with fucking Deku and she's not even trying to hide it. Everyone fucking knows that." he told you.

"So you don't like her?" you asked.

"Stop doubting my words." he flicked your forehead. You shut your eyes and rubbed at the sore spot, muttering a few words about how unnecessary that forehead flick was. Seeing how you looked very unconvinced with his words, his hands squeezed your cheeks together and forced you to make eye contact with him.

"Listen to me, you little shit. I am going to say this once and I am not going to repeat this. Because I have no fucking idea why you are so blind to all of this. You can be dumb at lot of things and frankly, I'm glad that you are." he sighed and you let out a gasp, offended by his words.

"Hey, I'm not dumb―" he cuts you off by squeezing your cheeks to the point where your words were all muffled.

"You're so helpless in your studies without me, its like you can't live without me. But it makes me feel special because you never ask someone else for help and always look for me. Even though you're shit at your studies, you have a really freaking strong quirk. You can be so fucking annoying and drive me insane sometimes but goddamn, how can you be so fucking adorable at the same time?" Bakugou started to get a bit frustrated now and he almost couldn't believe the words he was saying right now. 

You reached to grab his hands and pried them off your face to allow yourself to speak.

"I am not going to listen to you do this any further―"

Once again, Bakugou cuts you off by leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips. You were startled but after a brief seconds, you started to kiss him back. It's what you imagined it to be like, sweet yet fiery at the same time. You melt into the kiss, lifting a hand to cup his cheek while he cards his hand through your hair. You were the one to pull away first, taking a deep breath and you held your gaze. Bakugou looks oddly calm but you could see the red tint on your cheeks that was starting to reach the tips of his ears.

"You're red."

"Oh shut up, you're ruining the fucking mood."

Total: 3593 words Published: 07.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Not angsty at all actually. At least in my opinion. We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! We decided to let you readers decide where you're from  Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are closed! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

#stellar-imagines #scenario #bnha:bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha scenarios #bnha headcanon #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia headcanons #boku no hero academia scenarios #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia x reader #mha #mha headcanon #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha scenarios #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia scenarios #my hero academia headcanons #reader insert #fanfic

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Pepsi Raspberry

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader/you

Warnings: There's a fight and Reader's ex left her with some issues, but nothing super traumatic. Frankie is super cute (and a little needy). I just threw this together on a slow day at work, apologies in advance for errors.

Summary: You fight with Frankie. That's it that's the plot.

A/N: This was honestly supposed to be a piece about feminism and female independence in a relationship but I can't be trusted around Frankie, he totally bippity-boppity-booped me into forgivance. Dickhead. Also I struggled for two and a half hours with the title and that's why it's shit. I hate titles.

Words: 2,416

A loud noise wakes you up, your heart missing a beat. For a moment, you're completely still in bed, scared out of your mind. That was definitely the sound of the front door opening and closing, and someone crashing into a chair. You're as stiff as a board, your first thought being that this is it, this is how you'll die, by the hand of a home invader who's probably going to assault you first and then kill you, or maybe kidnap you and do god knows what to you…

You hear cursing and as you recognize the voice you also realize that if someone wanted to break in, they'd probably at least try to be stealthy about it.

"Frankie?" You mean for it to be a call but it's just a breathless whimper. You wet your lips, finding your mouth too dry.

Heavy, staggering footsteps bring the unknown visitor to the bedroom door and you reach out to turn on your bedside lamp. Blinking blearily towards the soft light is indeed Frankie, a sheepish smile on his face.

"The hell are you doing?" Your fright-induced stiffness leaving your body, you sit up in bed and glare at your boyfriend who was supposed to sleep at his own place tonight after his night out with the boys. His eyes are unfocused and his face shiny, and it's clearly been a good night. You glance at the nightstand, where the red light diodes of the clock tell you that the time is barely three am.

“Sorry, baby. Did I wake ya? There was… there was a chair in the entry. Did you move a chair? There never was a chair there before. Stubbed my toe.”

He limps over to the bed, trying to look as sober as possible while unbuttoning his shirt – “trying” being the operative word, as he’s clearly lost control of his fine motoric skills. He ends up pulling the flannel over his head, but it gets stuck, and he topples over his side of the bed. You draw back a little, wrinkling your nose. He smells of stale beer and cigarettes and moreover: he was supposed to go home. You had both agreed that you'd spend Saturday night apart for once, him catching up with his friends, you with yours, and he'd go home where he could spend Sunday nursing his hangover while you got some cleaning done in your apartment.

“What you are doing here?” you demand again, anger replacing fear. “Can I send you to the shower or will you drown?”

“I’m not a good swimmer,” Frankie acknowledges ruefully as he clumsily rolls over in bed and attempts the next step of getting undressed: undoing his fly and getting his tight jeans off. “Here, baby, gimme a hand, you’re so good at this…” “You deal with it yourself,” you say sternly, in no mood to help. The whole idea of spending one night apart was to get a good night’s sleep – something you rarely get in the same bed as Frankie as both of you are usually too voracious for each other to think about sleep – and for you not to have to worry about a hung-over boyfriend the following morning. On top of that, you’re furious with him for scaring the shit out of you by stumbling in at three in the morning. You almost regret giving him a key but then again: if he didn’t have one it could have been even worse, he could have gone full on Stanley Kowalski outside your window.

“Ah, baby, c’mon… Don’t be like that. Help an old man out.”

Frankie tilts his head up and looks at you with imploring eyes, upside down from you. Half of him is hanging outside the bed and the rest is slipping off, and he looks like he might fall asleep any second. You might as well help him before he goes limp and ends up on the floor.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter and crawl over to his side of the bed before climbing out. As you bend over to pick up his legs and lift them onto the mattress, Frankie manages to slap your ass.

“Baby. Hey, baby. Let’s have sex.”

“Not gonna happen.”

You unzip his jeans and yank them down carelessly, pulling Frankie down the bed in the process.

“Whoa, wild thing,” he murmurs thickly, his eyes falling shut. “Careful of the joystick, you don’ wanna damage that or you won’ be able to fly anymore…”

You don’t bother with an answer, he’s not going to remember it anyway. You help him off with the t-shirt as well and when you’re about to tuck him in, he grabs you by your wrist with a move much quicker than you had thought him capable of in his state. He pulls you down over him, the other hand squeezing your ass.

“Sex,” he mumbles. “Love you, baby, and I wanna be in you fo’eva.”

You try to avoid the smelly, wet kisses that he keeps pressing to your neck and shoulder. While you can appreciate him being horny for you in any situation, you’re still mad about him being here at all.

“You need sleep and I want it,” you tell him as you squirm out of his hold. Returning to your side of bed, you ignore the puppy eyes look he gives you as you turn off the lights.

“Not sleepy,” Frankie protests weakly before he’s out cold. He starts to snore loudly and you sigh in exasperation.

You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.

You barely sleep for the remainder of the night and when you finally give up and get out of bed, you're in a pissy mood. Not even two cups of coffee and the fancy bread rolls you bought at the bakery yesterday to treat yourself this Sunday morning make you feel better. You down a painkiller to combat the beginnings of the headache you feel creeping up on you before starting on your chore list. The clearing of the closets in the hall is the first task and you get to it, trying to find some satisfaction in the fact that you're getting your things in order.

As the hours pass by, you do your best to work around the tasks on your list that would generate noise, such as vacuuming. You may be pissed at Frankie but you're decent enough to let him sleep for a little while longer. However, you finally face the fact that if you're to get everything done in time for you to actually enjoy the rest of your day off and open that novel you've been dying to read, you're going to have to start the vacuum cleaer. If Frankie wanted to sleep until three pm he should have gone home.

When you turn off the vacuum cleaner, you hear Frankie groan in the bedroom.

“Babe?”

You're not really in the mood to talk to him but you go check on him, just in case he needs help to get to the bathroom. Nursing his hangover is the last thing you want to do today but you also don't want to clean up vomit.

He looks like a wreck with his hair standing out in every direction where it's not plastered to his skull, puffy eyes, and pale face.

“Morning.” Your tone is short but he doesn't seem to notice. He grunts and rubs his forehead with one hand, the other reaching out of bed towards you.

“C'mere. I wanna cuddle.”

“You smell,” you shake your head. “Get up already, I want to change the sheets.”

He groans again and retracts his arm, draping it over his forehead.

“One more minute. Or hour. It's so early and my head is killing me.”

“Not my problem, Frankie.”

Frowning, he looks at you, clearly bothered by the sunlight washing the room in light. You don't offer any explanations.

“Is there coffee?” he asks eventually.

“No.”

“Can you make some?”

“Make it yourself.”

He blinks at you, surprised.

“What's wrong, baby?”

You go to the other side of the bed, grab the pillow and start to take off the pillowcase.

“Just get out of bed. I have shit to do.”

Frankie sits up slowly, his head clearly bothering him when he moves from a horizontal recline to a vertical seat. He takes a moment, eyes closed and hand on his bare, soft stomach, before looking up at you.

“What's up with you?”

There's a hint of accusation in his voice and that does it for you. You slam down the pillow onto the bed and cross your arms in front of your chest as you glare at him.

“You scared the shit out of me last night, Frankie! I thought I was being burglared!”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he mumbles, his apology meaning nothing to you because you can clearly see that he doesn't understand the terror you felt last night.

“We agreed that we'd spend the night apart, what the hell did you come here for and ruin my sleep and my morning?” you demand, raising your voice a little despite yourself. Frankie hates yelling. “Did you think I'd take care of you, tip-toe around you all day, serve you coffee in bed and junk food on the couch while you get to feel sorry for drinking too much?”

“What, no, what are you – “ Frankie seems utterly confused, the state of him most likely partly to blame. “Can you please keep your voice down?”

You pull at the duvet, stuck partly underneath him. “Move.”

“Jesus...” he mutters as he slowly gets out of bed. He stands still for a moment as if to recalibrate as he adjusts his boxers, before sluggishly dragging himself to the bathroom. You strip the bed and as soon as Frankie's out of the bathroom and heading into the kitchen, you take the sheets to the washing-machine and start it. And just because you're feeling like a bitch, you throw Frankie's clothes out of the bedroom, letting them land on the floor, before vacuuming.

When you're stowing away the vacuum cleaner into the cleaning closet, Frankie confronts you. He's now dressed but that doesn't help his half-dead appearance.

“Why are you being like this?” He's still struggling to understand you. It's typical Frankie: he always tries to talk about things, bring clarity into every issue.

“Like what? What am I like?"” You're being a brat, you know, but you have no desire to be an adult right now. Frankie really doesn't seem to understand: the frown seems permanently etched into his face and he looks so different from his usual soft, easy-going self.

“Mean. You're being mean!” The last word comes out harshly and you can tell Frankie's losing his customary cool.

“So when I have plans to spend a day apart from you and be my own person, I'm being mean?” you spit. He looks at you like you're suddenly speaking in a foreign language.

“What are you even talking about?” The exasperation is plain to see, and it somehow makes you even angrier.

“This isn't your mama's bed and breakfast that you can just check into whenever you feel like it, Frankie!”

“Fuck,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can't deal with this right now.” He pulls out his phone. “I'm getting an Uber.”

“Good!” you quip. “Fuck off home, like you should've done at three in the fucking morning!”

Without waiting for a reply, you stomp into the bedroom and slam the door. A few seconds later, you hear the front door slam as well.

[+++]

Sorry I showed up unannounced in the middle of the night. I just missed you. Didn’t want to go home and sleep without you. Call me, okay? I Love you.

You stare at the text message and feel bad, no, not bad: really fucking awful. It took you a few hours to calm down; hours that you spent playing angry music while finishing your list of chores. Afterwards, you didn’t feel that satisfying sense of accomplishment you usually experience after a good cleaning. Your head still hurt, so you went to your newly made bed which smelled fresh and nice even with the spread on top. You slept until late afternoon and woke up by the beep signaling the text.

You’re conflicted. The fact that he missed you is so sweet but there’s something about the statement that annoys you. He’s a grown-ass man, for chrissakes, and he should be able to be without his girlfriend for one single fucking night. And then guilting you into calling him with I-love-you’s and his fragile feelings? Fuck that noise.

And still. You know what Frankie’s like: physical, devoted, kind. He’s not like anyone you’ve ever been with. Not like your last boyfriend, who would pull shit like this all the time: show up at your place at all hours of the day (or night) whenever he wanted something from you. Sex. Comfort. Sympathy. Who would text and call you all the time when you were out with friends because he couldn’t find his way to the fridge without your help.

Reluctantly, you hit the speed dial button to Frankie, and he picks up almost immediately, saying your name with barely contained urgency.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

“Hi. You okay?” Such a Frankie thing to do, make sure you’re okay after a fight where, technically, he’s the injured party.

“Not really. You?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You mean the hangover or this morning?”

You hear the smile in his voice. “Both, but I meant the hangover.”

You exhale in an amused little sniff.

“I’m sorry, Frankie. Do you… wanna come over?”

“I’d love to. Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Neither have I. I’ll pick something up. Burgers from that place you like?”

Your stomach rumbles at the mention of burgers but you’re more concerned with the sudden tears that rise in your eyes. Oh, Frankie.

“That would be great,” you manage, wiping at your eyes. Get a fucking grip!

“Parmesan fries?” he queries, but all he gets from you is a sob. “Baby?”

“I love you,” you sniffle. “You’re the best.”

“Aww, babe. I love you, too.”

You draw a deep breath to calm down, a little embarrassed at your emotional outburst. It’s not like you, but it’s been a weird day.

“You still there?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Pepsi Raspberry for you?”

You start crying.

#my fic #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader